#and as usual the list of okay foods they gave me is reduced even more by my usual restrictions.

[trauma-trove]

I hate that I'm held at social gunpoint to never EVER be anything but picture perfect niceness while doctors and nurses bully me and treat me like shit. It drives me insane. I tried being transparent with my last nurse about how my dietary problems, thyroid probpems, and chronic pain treatment was really going to interfere with a procedure and that I wanted to schedule it AFTER my other appointments and procedures. She told me "well, I can't do anything about that. The doctor wants it done." I tore the instructions she gave me right in front of her. They were salvageable. I could tape them together. But she looked at me like I called her a fucking slur.

"Oh but think of the doctor/nurse/receptionist you're doing that to! Every time a patient loses it, more medical practitioners leave the field!"

I.

Don't.

Care.

You're DOING this TO ME. I have the right of being the victim here. If someone is pushed and forced and coerced and bullied and assaulted enough times, they have a right to treat their offenders like shit.

I'm fucking sick of it.

[idontplaytrack]

An Angel

College!Amber Appleton x fem!reader(platonic)

warnings: fluff, coarse language, mentions/description of depression & anxiety, mentions of losing a parent

In which, Amber Appleton calls reader an angel and causes her to get flustered

Amber was your roommate at Carnegie Mellon, she was shy, but when you needed help with anything, she’d never say no to you. She was now a good friend of yours- one of your closest friends in college. Not to mention, she was practically the perfect roommate: always cleans up after herself, helps keep the place clean even when it was supposedly your turn (your classes seem to be more hectic than hers). And she understood it. You thought it was fair to make it up to her if she took your turn doing chores- usually you’d get her a drink or dessert of some sort, on your way back to campus after visiting family.

When you left the dorm on Friday afternoon, she’d just gotten back from her last class of the day. And she did not look good- she seemed so pale, you were terrified that she’d pass out without anyone around. And despite your protests, she insisted you went home for the weekend to see your family, knowing how much it meant to you. That was Amber for you- always putting others first. You knew about her losing her father to an undiagnosed heart condition, then her mother to a car accident, maybe that was why she was so insistent of you going to see your own family every chance you got. Amber’a told you that to her, family was everything. Until it wasn’t, because she didn’t have anyone anymore. Well, she said she had her friends in high school, but now, everyone lost contact with the exception of two friends. But even then, they barely ever talked.

Anyway, you were now in your car, driving back to the campus- well, the dorm. Your Mom made you some extra soup for Amber after hearing you mention that she was ill. Also, you’d made Amber text you periodically. Because…let’s face it. You were deathly worried about that girl. She doesn’t like asking for help. She fears it, almost. And that absolutely ticks you off. Why was she like that? I mean, you knew why. But still, ugh.

Oh, and her last text?

————

“Amber?” You called out.

“My gosh, why are you back early?”

“Told you I’d see for myself, didn’t I? My family sees enough of me.” You laugh, “My little siblings are asking why I’m always home. I dunno what to tell them.”

She cracked a smile.

“Did you eat?” You asked.

“What? Of course I have been eating.” She sat up.

“Good.” You nodded, “Okay, my Mom gave us extra food and soup - so you’d better eat up later.”

“Alright.” She sighs softly, a chuckle escapes her lips, “Tell your Mom I said thank you.”

“I will.” You assured, putting down the plastic bag containing the Tupperwares. “Did the fever break?”

“Came back this morning.” She mumbled.

“Are you sure this is just a cold?”

“Yes. I’m not throwing up, so it’s not the flu or a stomach bug. Nothing else hurts other than my head.” She listed.

“Okay, okay.” You laughed lightly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat, “I’m gonna take a shower real quick, you…don’t try and do anything to make yourself pass out.”

She laughs heartily, “I’m just gonna be sitting here or walking to the kitchen to refill my water bottle. Promise.”

“Okay, Amber.” You let out another laugh before disappearing into the bathroom with a fresh change of clothes and your towel.

Okay, at least she was fine when you were done with your shower- she’d dozed off while watching some random movie on her laptop. You paused the video, put her laptop on her desk then draped the blanket over her properly. Last thing you did, was to feel her forehead with the back of your hand: she was a little warm, but you figured you could probably let her sweat it out with this nap first instead of waking her up to take a dose of fever reducer. It was really quiet, so you thought she’d actually passed out. Meanwhile, you located your own laptop and resumed working on a paper you’d pressed pause on- you were fresh out of the shower, your mug filled with your favourite coffee, your headphones were on as your favourite songs played through them. It was the perfect scenario for productivity.

After a little over an hour, you decided you were done. Saving the document, you yawned, a little tired. But, you were satisfied you completed the work- though, you still needed to proofread it and make edits after this. Your gaze lands on Amber who was beginning to stir in her sleep. Removing your headphones, you hear the girl let out a groan as she moved around in her slumber. Your ears perked up in concern as you approached her sleeping figure - watching her like a hawk to decide your next move. Within seconds, though, she was awake. You ask if she was okay. “I’m uh, gonna need that fever medicine.”

“As you wish.” You shrugged, walking back to the cabinet above the bathroom sink to retrieve the bottle. You hand it to her as she took a sip of water to hydrate, making her dry throat feel better. “Your head really hurts, doesn’t it?” You questioned knowingly. She admitted it with a nod of her head as she tilted it up to aid the swallowing of the pill. “I was supposed to take another dose anyway - so, right on time. Thanks.”

“I think you’d better eat a little bit, y’know. It’s not good to take that on an empty stomach.” You took out the Tupperwares from its bag, then going to grab a bowl and set of cutlery.

“Okay.” She doesn’t protest, “You should eat some too if you haven’t. It’s been awhile since you first got back.”

“I will,” You flashed her a smile as you filled the bowl with the sopita your Mom cooked.

“Thank you.” She says while stirring the food with her spoon, she watches the pieces float around in the bowl.

“What? What for?”

“For taking care of me. For caring.” Amber purses her lips together, “It’s been pretty hard for me to make friends that even make it out of the lecture halls. Barely anyone ever reaches out to me again, and it’s just something that I’ve gotten used to, I guess. Why are you so nice to me?”

“Of course I am. You’ve been a great friend- always nice to me, happy to help. If you’re nice to me, you’ll know. However of course, if you aren’t, you’ll also know because I’ll tell you like it is.”

“You’re an angel.” She remarked, you nearly choked on your mouthful of noodles and veggies. She watched you, alarmed, then quickly patted your back.

“I’m fine.” You chuckled awkwardly.

“I mean it, though. This is really nice of you. You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Amber, listen to me. You’re my friend and I care about you, just like you do for me.” You inevitably let a sigh escape.

“I’m just…not used to it, accepting help.” She finally admitted.

“Yeah.”

“I know, I have been going to therapy but I still have a lot of work to do.”

“All progress is progress.” You smiled.

[tomtenadia]

Families - part 2

This is the following part to the fic I wrote for the prompt Single parents.

PART 1

It will likely have one or two more parts.

-----

A few months had passed and the season shifted and winter had eventually fallen on Orynth, bringing snow and its usual cold temperatures. The arrival of winter meant as well winter festival and if there was something Orynth excelled at was to celebrate that season and the solstice. The usual winter fair was sprawling in the central area of town, with food vendors, stalls and the major attraction; the ice rink.

The fair was the reason why now Rowan was in his car with his daughter, driving to Aelin’s place to pick up her and Aisling. 

They had kept their promise and the four of them had become quite close. The girls would have sleepovers and Aelin had been more than happy to look after Astrid when Rowan was on a night shift at the hospital. On a handful of occasions, on his day off he had reciprocated and Aisling spent the day with them.

Once the fair had started, Rowan had asked Aelin and her daughter to go out skating. He loved skating, and ice and everything connected with winter. Astrid instead had become obsessed with skating after her dad took her to a hockey game. At eight she was now totally hooked and had also asked to join a club, so Rowan had signed up to a junior ice hockey team and now his daughter was looking forward to show off her skills on the ice.

They arrived at the house not long after and Aelin and Aisling were on the pavement waiting for them.

“Hello stranger,” said Aelin getting in the car seat behind him and with her hand brushed his shoulder. Although nothing official had happened between them he had not missed the sneaky glances, the shy touches that both of them had been exchanging.

“Hi Astrid,” she added brushing the girl’s head “looking forward to show off? Your dad tells me that you are really good on the skates.”

The girl beamed proudly “I have been teaching dad. He is clumsy.”

Rowan chuckled “I am just rusty. I used to play hockey, but I haven’t been much on the ice in a long time, young lady.” He replied saving his dignity. He listened to Aelin engage with his daughter and a part of him was jealous of her easiness. He loved his daughter and did his best to keep her happy, but sometimes he felt like he did not have the same connection that Astrid had with Aelin. He blamed it on him being a man, he just hoped he was not letting her down.

Once all parked up they got off the car and started walking to the ice rink.

“Dad, can we have hot chocolate later?”

“If you behave.” 

Astrid grabbed her own skates from the trunk and hugged her dad “I always do.”

They let the girl walk in front of them and Aelin hooked her arms with Rowan’s as they reached the rink “I have a confession.” She said quietly, searching for his green eyes.

Rowan lifted an eyebrow in a question.

“I don’t know how to skate.”

Rowan chuckled and patted her hand “it’s fine, I’ve got you.”

Aelin’s heart raced at those words. Maybe she was imagining more than what he actually meant but for an instant she felt as if there was a deeper meaning in that statement.

At the ticket booth Rowan paid for all of them and they grabbed their gear. Astrid and Aisling already at the rink side and ready to go.

“Dad, can we go?” Shouted an impatient Astrid.

Rowan exchanged a glance with Aelin and she shrugged.

“Go, but be careful and keep an eye on Aisling. She is not as good a skater as you.”

Astrid grinned and the two girls disappeared on the ice.

In the meantime Aelin had sat down and was donning her ice skates. Rowan crouched down and helped her. Then he sat next to her and donned his pair. Once ready he helped her stand. Gently he fixed her scarf around her neck “it’s cold.” He told her while his finger lingered a bit longer than needed. 

“Let’s go,” he told her while offering her a gloved hand. Aelin took it and together they entered the rink. Aelin felt unstable the second she set foot on the ice and crashed against him. Rowan pulled her closer to him “steady.” He looked at her and huffed a laugh.

“Are you making fun of me?” She asked outraged at his reaction.

“No,” he shook his head and fixed her wooly hat “your hat was askew and it made you look cute.”

“Rowan Whitethorn,” her hand on his chest “are you flirting with me?”

Rowan winked and moved a bit away and left her but Aelin shouted that she needed help, so Rowan came back, grabbed her hands and turned around so that he was skating backwards and pulling her with him.

“Show off.”

“I told you I played hockey.”

“Were you good?”

 He made her pirouette slowly and laughed “I almost went professional but during one game I injured my knee pretty badly and I had to give up.”

“That sucks.”

Rowan shrugged “I went into med school instead. I ended up finding another path I loved.”

She crashed again against his chest and loved the feeling of her cheek against his hard muscles. And his scent. Rowan smelled of pine and snow. She inhaled deeply and a moment later she felt his strong arms around her “You and I should go on a date.” He said quietly while he kept dragging her around the rink. She looked up at him and saw tenderness in his green eyes. She hadn’t imagined it. The feelings, whatever was blossoming between was there had not been her imagination.

“If I survive this ice skating outing, you can take me out.”

“Good,” in that instant their daughters whizzed past them and Aelin laughed “they are having fun.”

“Astrid has been counting the days for this evening. She really likes it when you two are around.”

“She is not the only one…” and she hugged him tighter and Rowan squeezed her shoulders.

“I have a very good babysitter, She has been doing it for years. She can be trusted.” He explained to her “I can’t use my neighbour at night. She is elderly and she only helps me during the day.”

Aelin nodded “if you trust her I am happy, but we will have to pay her double and I want to cover my share.”

Rowan was about to protest but Aelin stopped him with a finger on his lips “No buts. She is looking after my daughter as well, so it’s on me too. Don’t fight me on this.”

Rowan’s hand rose in a yielding motion “you win.”

The evening ended without incidents and they all made it out of the rink alive. They had dinner at one of the vendors, the four of them sitting at the picnic tables in the warm area. Aelin even convinced him to eat a chocolate covered pretzel.

Eventually the evening came to an end with Rowan claiming that it was getting close to bed time for the girls and when they tried to protest Aelin joined him in saying that they had school the following day and promising another evening out not on a school night.

Rowan drove Aelin and Aisling back home and on the door they agreed on a day for their fate and Aelin sealed the deal with a kiss on his cheek.

—

It was the Saturday and Aelin was in front of Rowan’s door with Aisling at her side “Will you promise you will be nice? The young lady is here to look after you and Astrid.” 

Yes, mum.” 

Aelin rang the bell and Rowan opened the door and she gasped. He had worn a pair of jeans, a black shirt and he was now donning his coat. Her heart raced madly in her chest. The man was even more stunning than usual.

“Sorry we are a bit late, there was traffic.”

Rowan shook his head and motioned to come inside.

Astrid came running down the stairs and the two girls disappeared upstairs once again. The two adults had a few words with the babysitter and eventually left.

“Do you think Evangeline will be okay with two of them?”

Rowan laughed “I imparted upon Astrid the need to behave or I will reduce her book money allowance.”

“That is cruel,” commented Aelin who loved the idea that he gave his daughter an allowance to buy books.

“But it works. Since she had started reading she always needs to have a book with her. She loves it. I used the no hockey threat two days ago so I have to change from time to time.”

Aelin joined his hand on the gear “I am glad we are doing this.”

“Me too,” he replied, squeezing her hand back while at the traffic lights “I have been meaning to ask for a while but I never knew if it was just me or you reciprocated as well. Then the ice rink evening I had my answer so I gathered my courage and asked.”

Aelin laughed “I had the same debate. I kept thinking that it was just me.”

They arrived at the restaurant ten minutes later and as he helped her to get out of the car Rowan could not look away from her. Aelin was wearing a lovely blue dress that matched her eyes, her hair was tied up in a lovely French braid. She looked amazing. Once inside the restaurants, they sat, and Aelin could not believe where she was. He had taken her to a very high end restaurant, one she had read about but always thought was far out of her league. She was glad she had dressed nicely.

“How did you pull this off? Even a uni lecturer like me knows that this place has a crazy waiting list.”

Rowan laughed “The wife of one my colleagues, she is the head chef here. I just asked a favour.”

“This place is classy.” Aelin added “I hope that it’s not one of those places where the price is bigger than the portions.”

Rowan chuckled and filled her glass with wine “Definitely not, I promise. The food is really superb.”

They ordered and their food came very quickly and Aelin was impressed by the plates in front of her. The food looked amazing and the portions definitely generous.

She took a few bites then a sip of wine and braced herself for the conversation she wanted to have with him and hoped it did not ruin the atmosphere.

“Rowan, where are we going with this?” She asked, looking at him “We have daughters. Two girls who like each other very much and connect because they both have something in common.” She paused to gather her thoughts “I know it’s just the first date, but our situation is different. I have to think about Aisling. Allowing you in means letting you in her life as well. I can’t do flings, Rowan.” She finished quietly.

Rowan sighed and took a bite of his food, then placed his fork down and took her hand “I had the same speech ready in my head. Our daughters have the priority and I agree, we need to be careful. All I can say is that you are the first woman since my wife died that I ever felt any interest in.” He brought their twinned hands to his mouth “You are incredible and I want this to work out and not just for our daughters. I think we need some happiness.”

Aelin almost burst into tears “I want this too. You have no idea how much. But I am so rusty.”

“Hey,” he reached out with his hand and stroked her cheek “I am rusty too, but there is no rush. One step at a time.”

Aelin nodded and they went back to eating for a moment.

“Do you think we should tell the girls?” Rowan’s question was cautious.

“Let’s have a few more dates than we can just tell them.”

Rowan nodded.

The meal finished, the bill came and now they were walking in the park while snowflakes fell from the sky.

Rowan took her hand in his “it’s snowing.”

Aelin freed it and walked a few step away from him and started circling under the snow, her mouth wide open. Rowan stared at her and laughed at the scene and at the joy emanating from Aelin. And while he stared at her, dancing in the snow he realised that his feelings for her were far deeper that he thought. In the few months they had gotten closer he realised that she made him happy. Aelin made him feel again the array of emotions that he thought he had lost a long time ago. She made him feel alive and in that instant he realised he wanted her in his life. With him and Astrid. The four of them.

He took a step toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. She looked up at him and the smile she gave him was pure sunlight. He kissed her. Deeply while his hand brushed her face. She opened for him and Rowan put all his love into the kiss.

“I love you.” He said softly against her lips, not letting her go. Never letting her go. They were each other light out of the pit that their lives had been for almost eight years.

A second chance at being a family.

At a dream broken too early.

“I love you, Rowan.”

[morganaspendragonss]

dealing in danger

for the wonderful erin's birthday!!! (@halsteadmarchs) this is literally nothing like your original prompt skdshjkl hence why i made it into a new post but i hope you like it!!!

i did however manage to include the dialogue prompt you requested! 40 - "Hasn't this addiction done enough damage already?" from the angst section of this list

title from can you hear me by anson seabra

ao3 | 1.9k | pre-series, drug addiction, overdose, questionable parenting decisions

TK is not supposed to be hearing this. Not that his parents have ever seemed to care about what he does or doesn’t hear; his entire childhood was spent listening to the harsh whispers that drifted through through the walls and doors of their apartment. He could tune them out, if he chose, but these days the arguments seem to increasingly be about him, and TK thinks he has a right to know about his own life.

Especially when so little of it seems to belong to him anymore.

He’s been living under lock and key ever since he fucked up and accidentally left his stash out in the open a week ago. It was a rookie mistake, but in his defense, he’d been pretty fucking high at the time. Granted, that defense hadn’t gone over particularly well with his mother, but TK thinks it’s a valid excuse. He’d woken up that morning to a pounding headache and a dry mouth and his parents waiting for him on the couch with several baggies of pills in front of them. He’d pretty much been dragged straight to the doctor’s, and he’d only managed to avoid a stint in rehab by some miracle.

Said miracle being, an impassioned plea to his dad and a promise that TK had no intention of keeping to play things by his rules. His mom had tried to object, but TK is an adult, more or less, and he lives with his dad anyway. She can hardly enforce something she’s not around to bear witness to.

Or, at least, that was the theory. In reality, his mom has been here most days, and at least three quarters of those days have featured an argument over their different approaches to this situation.

“You know it will end up worse for him if we force it!” his dad is saying, probably violently gesturing towards TK’s room.

“And if we don’t?” his mom demands, her tone matching his exactly. “Our son has clearly been doing this for long enough that he knows how to hide it from us; what makes you think that you can control it now when you’ve obviously failed to up until now?”

“Oh, that’s rich! TK has two parents, you know!”

“He lives under your roof! He probably did drugs right under your nose; maybe if you were ever home, you would have noticed!”

And so it goes.

It’s the same every time—his parents passing the blame back and forth, ultimately getting nowhere and only really serving to piss each other off more. TK is kind of tired of it, but it’s pretty much the only entertainment he gets these days, so.

He’s kind of just waiting for the day when they realise that things were better before. Back when he was at one friend or another’s house getting high and they never had to bother about keeping an eye on him. No-one could deny that those days had been happier, for all of them.

But, hey, it’s not as if they want TK’s opinion anyway. It’s only his life and all.

“Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage already?”

That’s new. TK sits up straight, ear practically pressed to the door to hear; his dad seems to have finally realised that he can hear their every word, and has adjusted his volume accordingly.

His mom seems just as lost. “What are you talking about, Owen?”

“Have you looked at our son recently?” There’s something hard in his dad’s voice that TK has never heard before, not even when they found out about the drugs, and it takes him aback. “He’s not well.”

“Which is why he needs to be in rehab—”

“Which is why he needs to be with us. Come on, Gwyn, you think this whole thing isn’t our fault?”

TK raises a brow. In reality, the drugs had probably only been a quarter about his parents, if that, but it’s classic Owen Strand to think that the world revolves around him.

“I know that.”

And classic Gwyneth Morgan to agree with him.

“We were never there for him, and now look where we are. You said it yourself—none of us even noticed that he was...what he was doing. It was an accident that we did find out. If we send him away for months, he’s not going to see it as us trying to help him; he’s going to see it as us not wanting to deal with him.

“TK looks bad now, but imagine what time there would do to him. His addiction has already hurt us all enough; now it’s time for us to start managing that. You know I’m right, Gwyn.”

There’s a long pause after his dad has finished speaking before his mother mumbles something that TK takes to be an agreement. He’s not listening now anyway, his father’s words on repeat in his mind.

Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage already?

He’s not well.

...hurt us all enough

He’s right. His dad is right.

TK has hurt his parents enough. And he’s pretty sure that his dad knows he’s already figuring out a plan to go back to the drugs; he’s just choosing to ignore it because he doesn’t want to believe it.

But there’s a simple solution to this, and TK doesn’t know why he didn’t see it before.

He’s the problem, so to fix it, he just needs to not be around.

Simple.

So, that night, TK quietly steals the cash from his dad’s wallet, picks the lock on the apartment door, and creeps out into the night.

*

It’s pathetically easy to not be found if you don’t want to be. TK knows that by now his parents will have gone through every possible channel to find him, but he’s abandoned all his old haunts and used his dad’s money to get as far away from Manhattan as possible. He makes sure to keep outside of the 252’s service area, changes his name, and even buys some hair dye and new clothes to reduce the chances of him being recognised as fair as possible.

He has no money left by the time he feels safe, but that’s okay. There are other ways of paying for what he needs, after all.

TK survives almost two weeks in his new life. He steals food, grabs dropped money, and sleeps on the streets, or sometimes in a bed if that’s what his dealer of choice prefers for that night. It’s obviously nowhere near as comfortable as his old life was, but needs must, and TK knows how to adapt.

Anyway, at least he’s not trapped with his parents and their constant arguing anymore. At least he can get Oxy pretty much when he wants, in exchange for a quick fuck or two. And he knows that he can’t keep this up indefinitely. He knows that, sooner or later, his choices are going to catch up with him.

Thing is, TK gave up on old age a long time ago. Live fast, die young—that’s how it goes, right? It doesn’t sound so bad to him.

Or, it doesn’t, until his mistakes do finally find him again.

That night, he does his usual business, a baggie of pills for him, a blowjob for his dealer, and then it’s over. He’ll be on the streets tonight—apparently his dealer had ‘other matters’ to take care of—but TK doesn’t mind. It’s a balmy night, and alleyways can be surprisingly cosy if you know how to make them so.

Drugs, it turns out, work a treat.

TK doesn’t bother inspecting the pills as he tips them back, dry swallowing one after the other. Even if he had, it’s doubtful that he would have noticed anything off—and, later, he has to wonder if he would have cared if he had.

Slowly, the high begins to wash over him, and TK feels happy. He’s flying, but then it feels like something slams into him, and panic seizes his chest as he crashes back down to earth.

His body isn’t moving—TK can’t move—but he has this swooping sensation in his stomach and dread growing slowly in him. Something is horribly, horribly wrong, but his brain can’t think beyond helpcan’tbreathedyingDAD—

TK twitches and chokes, and then there’s no time for thinking anything as his head drops to his chest and his eyes fall shut.

*

Owen stares down at his son, lying comatose in a hospital bed. It’s only been two weeks since he fled the apartment, but already he looks so different, so much worse. Apart from the dyed hair and the streaks of grime on his face, it’s obvious that he’s lost a horrific amount of weight—weight TK could ill afford to lose.

There are deep purple bags under his eyes and his hair is limp and greasy to the touch. Nevertheless, Owen reaches out anyway, tangling his fingers in the strands as he prays for TK to open his eyes.

Worse, TK’s body is a patchwork of bruises and cuts, some in places that leave little doubt as to what he was doing to pay for the drugs. Owen feels sick to think about it, the idea of his 20-year old son out on the streets, doing...doing...that for something he thought he needed.

Jesus.

The doctors have told them that TK was lucky he was found when he was. Apparently, his dealer had fucked him over, given him much stronger drugs than TK normally took, causing him to overdose. On top of that, they’d been a bad batch, so TK wouldn’t have even had time to go looking for help if he’d known what was happening.

And there’s a thought niggling at Owen. He thought he knew his son, but looking at him now, he realises that he’s never been more wrong. Because Owen wonders whether or not TK would have gone for help if there was time, and he has no idea of the answer.

Heels click behind him, bringing him out of his thoughts. Owen knows what’s coming before Gwyn speaks, but he doesn’t try to stop her.

“Hasn’t this addiction don’t enough damage already?” she parrots, her tone cold and harsh.

Owen sighs. “Gwyn—”

“I accept my role in this, Owen,” she says, marching to stand on the other side of the bed, “but if you had just listened to me before then none of us would even be here. TK might not have been happy at rehab, but he wouldn’t be in a coma after almost dying either.”

“I know.”

“You know,” she scoffs. “Listen to me, Owen. We tried doing this your way, and look how it ended up. If—” Gwyn gasps and breaks off, sudden tears filling her eyes. She turns to look out the window for a moment, blinking hard, but she’s still not quite fully composed when she faces Owen again. “When he wakes up, we’re going to do what we should have done three weeks ago, and we are going to fix this.”

“I know,” Owen repeats, his voice a whisper. Gwyn seems startled by his ready acceptance, but Owen looks at TK’s pale, thin, bruised face, and he realises that a second chance is the last chance they’re going to get.

And he’s not going to lose his son.

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Detroit Evolution Character Studies.

If you haven’t seen the absolutely lovely Reed900 fan film Detroit Evolution by @/octopunkmedia, I highly recommend it. (This also contains spoilers for it so watch before reading this.) I’m not done with these character studies as I plan to do one more for both characters.

Essentially, these are scenes taken directly from the film where I wrote it out, action, words, and all, as well as tried to capture what I thought they would be feeling/thinking in those moments as a way of learning to write the character’s voices (or my version of them). Word Count: 2,345 TW: Cursing, blood/ injury/ death mention, brief mention of food.

Nines

Timestamp: 11:22

He carried the full coffee mug from the break room to Gavin’s desk, a spring in his steady step. Placing the mug down, he looked at Gavin, a challenge in his eyes.

Gavin looked up from his phone. “Thank god.”

Nines held back a sigh. “I hate you.”

“You love me.” Gavin sassed back.

Nines pushed at Gavin’s feet that were propped up on the desk. “Move your feet.” He listened to the small sound of surprise that came from the human and sat where the feet had been, waiting for Gavin to stop spinning. “Have you been reviewing the case?” He glanced at the inactive computer screen.

Gavin sat straighter in the chair and leaned forward. “You know me. When do I stop?” He pulled up the case file on his computer. “Our victim’s an AC900, right? That happens to be a model designed for athletics and endurance. So, her thirium pump is one of the most valuable out there.”

Nines tilted his head. “You think the killer could have black market motivations?”

“You can’t rule it out. Not with how advanced that part is. So, once I made that genius deduction, I went through a list of my contacts in the android parts market and they got back to me with some common drop sites for black market deals.”

Nines was wary of where this was going, his LED circling to yellow. “Contacts? There are black market dealers who collude with the DPD?”

Gavin sat back, posture relaxed. “They give me intel, I stay off their back.”

“That doesn’t seem legal.” it defied his sense of logic to work with criminals to catch other criminals, even if the method had some merit.

Gavin spun his chair to face him, voice becoming defensive. “Okay, Nines. Sometimes you gotta bend the rules if you want to catch a bigger fuckin’ fish, alright? I know it’s not your protocol or whatever but, that’s why you got me.” He took a sip of his coffee, looking pleased with himself.

Nines leaned on his hand. “How would I ever succeed without your obstinance and rule breaking?” Sarcasm was something he’d mastered soon after deviating and used often with Gavin.

Gavin set his mug down, crossing his hands over his lap. “Yeah, you got a real funny way of saying ‘experience and wisdom’.”

“Wisdom?” Nines almost scoffed. “Gavin, I have a database in my brain containing over two hundred thousand words in the English language and I believe you found the one that least applies to yourself.”

Gavin looked up at him. “Shuuuut the fuck up.” He reached forward to tap his keyboard, bringing their attention back to the case. “Look, if we can intercept some dealers and bring ‘em in, we’ll find out if our victim’s thirium pump has been making the rounds. That could lead us straight to the killer.” He looked at Nines for his opinion.

Nines hummed. “It’s a good start, but waiting for a dealer to cross our path could mean it could take weeks to find a lead.” His LED went to blue as he thought it over.

“Thought of that too, smartass. There are definitely some sites where black market activity is hot.” He pointed at the screen and Nines turned to look. “These apartments out in Ferndale and Slide Docks-” he moved to point at another part of the map on the screen. “-here.”

Nines considered the information and screen. “We’ll need to split up to cover both.”

“Nah, you won’t have to miss me.” He gestured to the new detective with his mug. “We’ll get Chris on one of them while we go to the other.”

Nines looked at Chris, who seemed to have a lot on his mind. “He’s been quiet, since Jericho.”

Gavin busied himself with gathering his things. “Okay. Maybe work will take his mind off of it.”

Nines hummed, watching him. “Burying troubles in work is your usual approach.”

Gavin stood and rounded his chair, blowing a kiss to Nines sarcastically. Nines turned his head in time to notice Gavin flip him off behind Nines’ back. He smiled at the antics and followed the detective.

Nines

Timestamp: 54:00

‘I need you to come back to me, Nines.’

Nines could hear Gavin, even as he was trying to search every line of his code for a way to fix this corruption.

‘You are my partner. Come back to me, Nines.’

Nines heard a glitch in the garden before Gavin’s voice spoke again, closer this time, different. “Hey, tin can.”

He looked up to see his simulation of Gavin standing there. Calling his name, Nines ran over to him. He said his name again as he tried to hold him, only to be met with loose pixels and glitching code. He took a step back, anger in his voice. “What did she do to you?”

Gavin’s voice was distorted and his pixels were out of sync. “Code’s all buggy from Ada. You gotta delete me. Delete all of this, start from scratch.”

“Delete it?” Nines felt panic rise in him at that. “No, I can’t do that. This is where I process everything. I can’t just erase it.”

“You can rebuild another one after.” Gavin looked up into the trees. “Doesn’t even have to be a garden. Hell, make it a theme park, I don’t know.” He looked back at Nines.

“I can’t rebuild you.” His voice softened. Nines had spent pain-staking hours programming Gavin’s code and making him as close to the real thing as possible and now he was being told to delete it all? He wanted nothing more than to just hold Gavin.

“Look. You don’t have to give a shit about me. It’s all just fucking fantasy, Nines. You got the real thing up there. And the only way to get back there is to let go of all of this.”

‘Come back to me, Nines.’

The Gavin standing before him glitched again and Nines nodded slightly. “Okay.” He moved away, unable to look at him as he did this.

‘I need you. I need you to come back to me, Nines.’

With the real Gavin’s voice echoing in his ears, Nines carefully and ruthlessly tore down every line of code he had to. Thoughts of the past few days, images of his friends and Gavin, tumbled through his mind as he destroyed his sanctuary, the place he went to relax and to process and feel safe. A place that had been tainted by Ada’s forced entrance.

As soon as the last zero was deleted, Nines regained full control of himself.

Gavin

Timestamp: 24:30

Gavin grunted as another fist connected with his face, breaking his nose. Faintly he heard a voice call his name. A hand reached out but instead of a punch- He jolted awake, hands reaching to fight off his attacker, whoever's hands were now on his shoulders, fighting him back. Nines’ voice broke through the fog of sleep and Gavin stared at him, calming down just a bit as he found one of Nines’ hands on his chest, the other holding his right wrist gently. Nines gave one more, comforting, “”it’s not real, you’re safe,” before releasing Gavin and standing up.

Gavin shifted, moving to sit up against his headboard as he tried to calm his breathing. He shifted the pillows behind him, all too aware of Nines’ concerned gaze.

When his breathing was slower, Gavin spoke. “What- What’re you still doing here?” He knew Nines had mentioned reviewing case files but thought he would have left, bored of Gavin. Most did.

“I stayed to review our case files.” Nines’ voice was soft, as if Gavin were a deer that would startle at a too-loud sound. “I heard you struggling.” He moved away from the bed a step or two. “I’ll go get you some water.”

Gavin shifted positions, shaking his head. “No, no, no, I”m fine. I’m fine.” If he repeated it enough, maybe he’d believe it himself. He cursed a few times, softly, as he tried to find a comfortable position.

Nines sat back down on the edge of the bed. Gavin cursed again, the loudest sound in the room being his still heavy breathing. He leaned his head back against the wall, too exhausted to care. “Guess now you know why I don’t sleep.”

“What were you dreaming about?” Gavin was grateful for the lack of judgement in Nines’ voice.

Gavin dropped his head down, shaking it as he stared at his sheets. “Nothing. I don’t even remember.” Not a complete lie, it was reduced to fear and feelings and flashes of memory now, so distorted from what it once was. “Probably bore you, if I did.”

There was a small smile in Nines’ voice, still soft but now holding a note of affection. “Learning more about you would never bore me, Gavin.”  Gavin didn’t quite believe him and Nines kept talking. “Would you like me to stay with you? Research shows that physical touch is good for humans, it releases serotonin which has a calming effect-”

Gavin’s skin crawled at the thought of touch and he began protesting as Nines continued. “-I think that-” Nines heard his protests and stopped.

“No.” Gavin shook his head, breathing almost under control. “I’ll take my chances with the cat.”

“Okay.” Nines stood. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He turned and began to walk to the door.

Before Nines could reach it, Gavin spoke. “It was about this one night.” He looked up at Nines, wondering if the android knew the level of trust Gavin was showing. “It just makes me feel like I’m back there.”

He paused as Nines came back to sit on the side of the bed where he’d been before.

He took a deep breath. “I was a dumb kid. Dropped out of high school, fell in with some shitheads dealing red ice for a little while. I just . . . I just couldn’t do it. I stopped. And they fucked me up, kicked me out. I’m wandering around the streets of Detroit, bloodied to shit, nowhere to go. Fowler found me. He was on patrol. He just, put me in his car, drove me to a diner. Bought me coffee. Told me I could intern at the DPD for a little while. Have something to do, you know.”

Nines listened patiently, only commenting at the end. “Sounds like a happy ending. Why is it a nightmare?”

Gavin’s eyes turned haunted. “‘Cause every time it replays in my head, he doesn’t show. And I just die out there. Bleeding in the fucking snow and no one cares.”

Nines stood, looking like he was prepared to go back to the living room. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”

Gavin looked up at him, his face illuminated by the light of the window, and didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he just slid over and hoped he understood.

Nines did, his LED glowing yellow in the dark room  as he moved to sit where Gavin had been. He gingerly turned so his cloth-covered back was toward Gavin. The human appreciated the gesture, feeling comfortable and vulnerable enough to extend his hand, palm up, to Nines. The android carefully took it, his synthetic skin retracting but Gavin brushed that off as him offering less skinship.

Gavin’s breathing stuttered slightly but he slowly placed his head on Nines’ shoulder blade and shoulder. He felt Nines rest his head on Gavin’s, the android’s thumb running over the back of the human’s hand.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll have you scrapped for parts.” There was no bite to Gavin’s words.

Nines shook his head. “Empty promises,” he said, a smile in his voice.

Gavin

Timestamp: 57:19

“I think I can help with that.” Nines’ voice came from the doorway.

Chris called his name while Gavin looked on in disbelief. Tina stood by Nines, Gavin was vaguely aware of her trying to get Chris to leave Gavin and Nines alone but he only had eyes for the android.

Nines stepped into the room as the two left. “Distracting yourself with work at two A.M.? Now I know you missed me.”

Gavin’s shock wore off at the playful banter. “You undead asshole. How did you wake up?”

They both approached, almost meeting in the middle of the room, as Nines spoke. “I heard you. Your voice broke through.”

Gavin backed up a few steps even as Nines continued advancing. “Goddammit. You mean you- you- you heard everything I said?”

Nines smiled. “Every word. A force you can’t live without?”

“I . . . hate you.” There was barely any force in his words.

Nines finally reached him, that soft smile still on his face as understanding shone in his eyes. “You love me.”

Gavin looked up at him and their eyes met. He looked down to see Nines’ skin retract on his hand, gently taking it into his own hands. Nines’ other hand came up to cup Gavin’s cheek and draw his gaze back to his face. Gavin closed his eyes, getting used to such tender touches, before opening them and looking at Nines. Then, they were kissing, both putting the emotions they couldn’t put to words into it.

When they broke apart, Gavin panted for a moment before speaking. “What dipshit programmed you to do that?”

Nines laughed, sounding just as out of breath as Gavin felt. “I’m the most advanced android ever made, detective.”

Gavin threw his head back dramatically, Nines’ hand sliding down to his neck. “Oh, you are such a fucking prick.”

“Takes one to know one.” Nines snarked back.

Gavin sniffed, finally noticing what Nines was wearing. “This is my jacket?”

“Yeah, you left it at CyberLife. They didn’t keep my clothes.” He laughed and looked around. “I see you’ve been making progress without me.”

“Yeah, uh. Guess we’ve got some catching up to do.”

Nines didn’t respond, simply leaned down for another kiss.

[kyotakumrau]

2020.12.21 The World You Live In at Zepp Tokyo, 2nd event report

Fujieda again started with greetings, introduced himself and Takabayashi and then asked for applause for the band members.

And we got quite a surprise!

Kaoru and Toshiya came on stage!

Thus making Tokyo the only place where band members changed for each slot/session. As much as I'd love to see Kyo again I was happy as my friend only went to Tokyo and she's Toshiya's fan😊

F: please introduce yourself.

Kaoru: you already did lol. I'm Kaoru.

T: I'm Toshiya.

F: the last video you just watched was different from other sessions. The trailer for the concert film screenings that will start from February. It's something only you know right now. As you can imagine from the title it will be something similar to this, with the band members coming for the talk after.

K talked a bit about the situation as well.

T: it's still difficult to hold concerts, but this is something we can do. So I hope you will look forward to it.

Next F started the 'merch items introduction corner', he passed the items to the members.

K: I was watching the 1st slot and we talked about them in Osaka, too. (he talked more about the items and what members said)

F: yes, everything can fit in the pouch so it's a very useful item. You can buy all merch items and put then in the pouch and take home like that. Let's look at Toshiya's big pick key chains (he pronunced that very carefully😂)

They talked about members signs and company logos when suddenly K requested to have to lights in the venue set brighter so he could see everyone.

After that F announced they wil start with questions from the fans, passed the part of papers to others, but K gave his to F saying it's better if he chooses.

T: ok, I have a good one! 'It was Die's birthday yesterday, did you send him a birthday message? And are there any memorable presents you've received in the past?'

T: I got a bicycle. I was really happy at first, but then it was stolen from the parking area.

F: when was it?

T (I didn't catch it but from the context it must have been quite early on in their career)

F: during the tour?

T: yeah, we were always giving each other something for our birthdays, every year, but as years passed it got more difficult to choose something good and we then just stopped.

F: how about you, K?

K: I got a Mickey Mouse, about this size (he showed us with his hand, about 1m tall).

F: 'how do you deal with feeling tired?'

K: I go for a massage.

F: only during the tour?

K: anytime.

F: when the most? When writing songs?

K (laughing): but we're always writing songs

T: for me it's sauna.

F: do you often go when just staying at home?

T: for example after the gym

Ta: 'what did you eat most often during the stay at home period?'

K: ...what did I eat, what about you, Tooru?

Ta: sausages.

The whole venue kinda rotfled 🤣🤣🤣

F: that's cute😆

Ta: it's something I can usually only eat at home.

K: ...something I was really into...(still thinking)....(thinking)

F: for me it was Jiro-ken ramen.

T: at home?! So you weren't really staying at home?

F: I gained some weight after the overseas tour. I started to diet then, and one day a week, a cheat day, I could eat whatever I wanted. My cheat choice was Jiro, either at the restaurants or to take away.

K: ...what was it for me...

F: maybe nabe you talked about before? (in Osaka)

K wasn't impressed 😆

T: canned mackerel for me.

F: for when you drink etc? No, just like that?

They all laughed here a bit.

Suddenly K jumped in with a new topic.

K: in Osaka you talked about the theme behind Kyo's outfit, you said it was pink but he pointed his green hair as the main point.

F: that was difficult.

K: tbh I also thought the main idea was pink (he also talked about Kyo's use of Kansai dialect)

T: 'what were you able to do after becoming an adult?'

F: there's a lot of food people start eating when they grow up.

T: food topic again? 😆

F: for example for me it was raisins.

T: as I get older I can drink more. When we just debuted I couldn't drink at all.

F: drinking wine?

T: おっさんだから・'cause I'm an old guy.

K started talking about the food he couldn't handle when he was small but the next question kinda made me forget it 😅

' 'wet cat food is actually quite good, have you ever tried?'

F: I have a cat and sometimes when I give my cat wet food some will get on my fingers. I'd just lick it. You know some of it, the mackerel or tuna, it looks so good.

T: please send me a video when you eat cat food next time.

😂

(but to be fair most of canned cat food in Japan is 100% fish🤷‍♀️)

K: 'when you can tour again what local specialities do you want to eat?'

F: motsunabe in Fukuoka

T: miso type?

F: of course (if not Shinya would kill him)

K: what did you eat in Sendai?

F: bento

K: in Nagoya?

F: nothing special

T: we had normal bento, but it was miso katsu (Nagoya's style cutlet)

F: but if it's not in a restaurant it's not the same. Anything you want to eat, T?

T: Beki soba from Niigata.

F: have you tried it before?

T: when we went there on a tour, I really like soba.

They talked but more about food, tare katsu, okonomiyaki from Hiro and Jiro again.

T: is Jiro really that good?

F: 😍

K: I've tried it before, but it's (just) okay.

F: it's all about how the noodles taste (type of flour etc)

(more food talk, choosing between salt and tare options)

K: 'what's your favorite onigiri (rice ball)?'

F: how about you, K?

K: I don't eat onigiri.

T: Me also, but if I have to choose it's sujiko/salted salmon roe.

K (about not eating onigiri much): right, you only eat soba.

T then told us the story how much he loved salmon roe even as a child. When he was quite small he went shopping to the local supermarket with his grandmother. When he saw salmon roe in the shop he just started eating it directly from the shelf/container. Of course when his grandmother and supermarket staff found out it got very noisy, but because he was so young it was forgiven.

(back to onigiri topic)

Ta: salmon for me.

F: oh that is nice, I love the most tamago-kake-gohan rice ball (TKG is a very simple, traditional Japanese breakfast dish - just rice with a raw egg eaten with soy sauce, sometimes other toppings), the Newdays chain is selling them

K: the chain operates only in this area, no?

F explained that there are Newdays in other places too, fe Sendai. He also really got into explaining all pros incl the tasty gooey filling inside of the rice ball.

K (imitating F) oh that's nice 😂

F: 'it got so cold recently, what's your favourite season?'

T: spring or fall, I don't hate winter but I definitely don't like summer.

K: fall. (he said as this year wasn't too cold he could go out a bit during breaks)

F: so 2~3 weeks ago was your fav time.

K: here in Tokyo at least.

F: 'as we're staying home much more now do you have a recommended tv series or a channel?' (not just a movie)

K: Cobra kai.

F: ah, you tweeted about it.

K: it will be on Netflix next month, the 3rd season.

K talked about The Karate Kid (Japanese title 'Best Kid').

F: I don't know it.

Ta: me too.

K (shocked): you're serious???

T: I know, of course.

F: 'Best Kid'? 'Best Fit?'

T: just stop it🙃

F: how about your recommendation, T?

T: The BOYS on Prime.

K: I haven't seen it, but it seems interesting.

T: it is! I also like BOSCH. I'm just watching like after work and so on.

After that K talked about how cinema with the capacity reduced by half was nice because you could put your bag on the seat next to you etc, but recently came back to the full house (Demon Slayer did that...)

F: 'how do you feel being in front of people first time in a while?'

T: I'm sorry it has to be done this way

F: don't say that😆

(missed K's reply)

T: it's tiring to be in front of people.

F: but we do it in an interesting way.

T: yeah.

T: 'what's your favourite game? Even including older ones like famicon?'

K: games?

T: Spelunker on Amicon😆

T/K in agreement: where you die so quickly

K: PS5 is so popular, I didn't win.

F: it seems Kyo won once but the information he submitted had a mistake.

K: I applied for Sony's lottery and Big Camera's.

F: you don't want PS5, T?

T: recently I don't play.

K: what about the... what was it Tsushima?

They all reacted with 'ah'

F: what kind of game is it?

K: don't ask me😅 but it looks interesting.

T: it seems to be very popular abroad.

F: 'what's your favourite way to eat ozoni?'

(A new year soup with rice cakes)

Ta: the soy sauce based soup, with grilled mochi.

F: but what ingredients do you add?

K: isn't that way too detailed??

Ta (tries): spring onion etc

K listed grilled mochi, spinach, carrot etc. Then he told us about his family tradition to properly make rice cakes for New year, pounding was so loud even if you wanted to watch tv, you couldn't. But then they had enough for a month.

T: soy sauce style.

F: with miso or?

T: I said soy sauce.

F: what ingredients?

T: rice cakes, spinach, and what is that... (he started to make circles with his hand) ...?

F: naruto?

T (yeah that/nods)

F: in my family we do soy sauce, rice cakes, carrot, fish cakes etc.

K (ignoring F comment that they should finish now, in a teasing way): what about osechi, which dishes do you like?

F: konbu maki or kurikinton.

K: how about you, T?

T: that egg dish that is kinda like this (he gestured the shape again)?

Ta: tatemaki?

F: datemaki!

T: I think it's datemaki.

K: I like that beef roll with carrot and green beans inside (its 牛肉の八幡巻き)

F (making very dreamy face): Aaaaaaah that😍 green beans are so good.

F: ok, thank you all.

K: what about Tooru (Ta)?

F: it's time, sorry.

Last comments.

Toshiya: thank you all for gathering here despite the COVID situation. It's difficult to do concerts now so we tried doing film screenings. In difficult times like this it's not only about the band members, there's our staff and also the venues. I'd love to play concerts again, please wait for us.

Kaoru: it is a difficult situation to share my personal opinion... if we can't do the concerts in a way everyone can enjoy... enjoy, it will affect our relationship of mutual trust. I think this (COVID) situation will continue for some time still, so I think it's better to go with the film screening events. But we will keep checking the situation. Please stay healthy and I hope all of you will come to watch it.

[440mxs-wife]

Merry Ketchmas

Pairing: Arthur Ketch x reader. Other characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 5600-ish (I seem incapable of writing anything short)

Warnings: Slight description of injuries, a kitchen mishap, a little angst but mostly fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was mid-morning, and you were partway through your to-do list for the day. You took a basket of dirty clothes to the laundry room then loaded them into the machine to be washed. You added soap and set the dial for the correct cycle, humming as you left the room.

You had returned to the library and were about to resume reading when the bunker doors flew open. Sam and Dean were trying to maneuver down the spiral staircase, carrying someone in between them.

"Sweetheart?? A little help please?" Dean called.

You ran to the bottom of the stairs to see who was wounded and the extent of the injuries. Your heart flew into your throat as you recognized the man being carried down the stairs. It's Ketch. He's been hurt. Your mind went into overdrive with worry as the trio reached the bottom stair. "What happened?" you asked.

"Werewolf's claws got Ketch in the left leg, and we think he also might have sprained his right ankle," Sam informed you.

"I certainly hope you lads have stocked up on the good anesthetic this time. Not that cheap swill you usually drink," a distinctly British-accented voice drawled.

"All right, I'll meet you guys in the infirmary," you called over your shoulder. You raced ahead of the boys to get everything ready.

"Oh, good, a pretty nurse is here to doctor me back to health. Or, is it a pretty doctor is here to nurse me back to health? Hmm? Lads?" Ketch asked as he began to chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, pretty nurse, pretty doctor," Dean muttered. "Let's just get you to the infirmary in one piece," he grumbled. Dean was thankful that you were out of earshot before Ketch made his 'nurse/doctor' comments.

By the time the boys arrived in the infirmary, you had the medical supplies set up, such as suture kits and bandages. You also had a washcloth with a basin of warm water on standby.

When they entered the infirmary, you took a quick glance at what you could see of Ketch's injuries. Although he was wearing black pants, you could see the sheen of fresh blood splotches on them. A makeshift bandage was tied around his leg to try and reduce the blood loss.

"All right, fellas, let's get him up on this bed so I can get to work," you directed.

"Darling, shouldn't you allow me to take you out for dinner and dancing first before you get me into bed?" Ketch smirked.

You rolled your eyes at his remark, but your lips were twitching, trying to hold back a grin. You grabbed the scissors to cut his pants leg away so you could see what his wound looked like. You cleared your throat and stared straight into his ocean-blue eyes before speaking.

"Now, be still Arthur, and don't move. If you don't do as I say, I might 'accidentally' slip with these scissors and rid you of something you'd rather keep," you warned. Your voice sounded so ominous that even Sam and Dean backed away from you. "Will you two please hold him so I can cut this away and see what I'm dealing with?" you asked.

From that point on, Ketch mostly behaved himself for the rest of the time it took you to clean his wounds and stitch him up. He was quiet, except for the occasional hiss of pain, at which you mumbled your apologies. Ketch assured you he knew you were doing your best to tend to his medical needs.

You saw that his right ankle was a bit swollen, but determined that it was only lightly sprained. As a precaution, you wrapped it in a flexible bandage, then propped it up on a few pillows to keep it elevated.

As you finished, his adrenaline seemed to have worn off, because he was starting to fall asleep. He was also grumbling about being in pain, so you gave him one of the pain pills from the cabinet. Ketch popped it in his mouth and washed it down with the bottle of water you gave him. You gestured for Sam to hand you one of the extra blankets laying on the other bed. You then draped it over Ketch to keep him warm and from possibly going into shock.

Before you could completely escape, Ketch sat up a bit and caught your hand in his. "Goodnight, Love. See you in the morning," he replied with a drowsy smile, then collapsed back on to the pillow, fast asleep.

You grinned back at the handsome--now snoring--Brit and turned to lean over him. You placed a feather-light kiss to his forehead and directed your attention to Sam and Dean. They both eyed you with quizzical looks on their faces. "What? Oh, shut up," you muttered.

Dean chuckled. "We didn't say anything, did we Sam?" he asked, to which Sam shook his head in amusement.

"Let's just go see about you two idjits, hmm?" you grumbled.

Fortunately, Sam's and Dean's injuries consisted of cuts and scrapes, nothing major or requiring stitches. While they showered and changed clothes, you got to work preparing a pot of chili for dinner. As you put together the components for the chili, you thought about the man currently recovering in your infirmary.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You first met Arthur Ketch after he rescued Gabriel from Asmodeus, and had brought the archangel to the bunker. At the time, Ketch was working for the Prince of Hell as a means of survival after the final battle with the British Men of Letters. When Ketch saw what was happening to Gabriel, he felt it was worth the risk to his own safety to rescue the archangel. Although Ketch wasn't fully trusted by Sam and Dean, he was at least no longer considered an enemy. You, however, had always found him somewhat fascinating.

Arthur Ketch....certainly a handsome devil, with his dark brown, almost black hair and captivating, aqua-colored eyes. His suave and confident demeanor, not to mention that sexy accent drew women in like a magnet. You were no exception, but considering the type of women he was used to being with, you knew you didn't stand a chance. So, you settled for working with him on a few cases here and there. And you tried like hell to keep in mind that his attempts at flirting with you didn't mean a damn thing.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you didn't even hear Dean come into the kitchen. He placed his hand on your shoulder, which caused you to jump a little, but you quickly recovered. "For cryin' out loud, Dean, warn a girl next time. Scared me half to death," you chided, putting your hand on your heart.

Dean chuckled a little, but apologized for scaring you. "Hey, you okay?" he asked. "You seem a bit distracted right now. Doesn't have anything to do with you having a crush on a certain British patient in the infirmary right now, does it?" he wondered with a smirk.

"I'm fine, Dean. And no, I'm not distra--wait, what are you talking about?!?" you exclaimed.

"I'm talking about your crush on Ketch. It's not like it's the first time I noticed something there, either. Remember that one time you were paired up on that siren hunt, where you were a singer in a nightclub?" he asked. "I could tell that Ketch was definitely 'intrigued' as he would say," Dean remarked.

Sam appeared in the doorway, and had heard what his brother said to you about Ketch. "Yeah, I remember that case. He seemed like he was interested in you, told me that you had the 'voice of an angel'. AND said he was a bit jealous of the guys in the audience you paid attention to during your performances," Sam added.

You continued to stir the chili, not exactly sure what to say to Sam's and Dean's remarks. You remembered the hunt they were talking about. At one point, you thought there might have been something between you and Ketch. Then as soon as it was there, it also seemed to quickly disappear, as did the man himself. Today was the first time in months that you had seen or even heard anything from Arthur Ketch.

"Guys, I hear what you're saying, but I don't think he has any 'feelings' like that for me. Anyway, he's used to being with a higher caliber of female companion. You know, more worldly and refined. I'm just....me," you finished softly.

"Sweetheart, you know--" Dean started but you interrupted.

"No, Dean. I'd really rather not talk about it anymore, so change of subject. Christmas is coming up, and I want to know, what kinds of special foods do you guys want me to make?" you asked, then held up your hand. "Before you say it, Dean, I already know you want pie. I'm asking for other ideas, because I'm starting a supply list," you said.

The boys each thought about it while you continued to work on making dinner. In the end, Sam requested chicken wings and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. In addition to pie, Dean requested meatballs with barbecue sauce and chili-cheese dip.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You wondered if you should ask Ketch about his food preferences, but you didn't want to wake him. With any luck, he was still getting that much-needed rest from his werewolf encounter. With his injuries, there was no way he was going anywhere until well after Christmas, possibly even New Years.

After some research, you found that there were some subtle differences in American vs. British traditions at Christmas. To pull this off, you would be needing supplies not only from the supermarket, but also from a craft store. You made note of these items as you worked.

Making this happen for Ketch had grown to become very important for you. Chances were, it had been a long time since he'd celebrated Christmas properly, if at all. You were determined to show him that he has a family of sorts with you and the Winchesters.

For your grocery list, you wrote down what you would need based on what Sam and Dean had told you earlier in the day. You added a few things for yourself, like for making cinnamon rolls and a breakfast quiche. Your list also included a small turkey, parsnips, Brussels sprouts and tea as items for a British Christmas meal.

In addition to the food, you needed supplies from a crafts store to make Christmas crackers. You'd seen them enough on those British rom-com TV shows and movies you love to watch. You were familiar with the concept of a paper tube covered in foil and twisted at both ends. Two people each take an end, then you both pull until it pops open. What comes out from the inside the tube is usually a small trinket and a paper crown.

After dinner, you stopped by Dean's room and gave him your list. Although he grumbled a little, he agreed to find a craft store that would have what you need. You gave him a hug and thanked him for seeing how important this was to you. He teased you a little more about your crush then got serious for a moment.

"Hey? For what it's worth? I think you are just as beautiful and worthy of Ketch's attention as any of those other type of women you talked about. You're smart, funny, caring and do an amazing job of running this place.

"You have one of the biggest hearts out of anyone I know, because you're always thinking of others first. All of that is part of what makes you beautiful, and if Ketch can't see that, he's not worth your time," Dean finished. He pulled you back for one last hug and kissed the top of your head.

"Thanks, Dean. For everything, running my errands and for everything you said. Goodnight," you replied.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he returned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After leaving Dean's door, you went back to your room to change into some pajamas. Your plan for the evening was to check on Ketch, then hang around for a while in case he woke up. You grabbed your book from your nightstand and headed for the infirmary.

You walked over to Ketch's bedside and could see that he hadn't moved much since you put in his stitches. You touched your wrist to his forehead to feel if he had a fever, which could indicate an infection, but his temp felt normal.

Your hand caressed his face as it slid down from his forehead, with your thumb gently stroking his cheek. He seemed to lean into your touch and a noise of contentment escaped his lips. You withdrew your hand, but placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Once you were satisfied with Ketch's condition, you pulled a chair up close to the right side of his bed and sat so you were facing him. You opened your book to read, but it wasn't long before your eyelids began to droop closed from exhaustion.

Your grip on your book eventually relaxed enough to let it slip off your lap and onto the floor. Eyes still closed, you turned in your chair so that you could lean over and place your crossed elbows on the side of Ketch's bed. Then you rested your head on your left elbow and drifted back to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You woke to the feeling of someone gently running his fingers through your hair. A couple of times, you'd swear a soft pair of lips pressed themselves to your temple in a lingering kiss. You smiled then opened your eyes, gasping in surprise to find Ketch propped up on one elbow, grinning at you.

"Good morning, darling," he drawled. "I see you drew the short straw for patient watch duties," he quipped.

You giggled. "Good morning to you, Arthur. We didn't draw straws, I came down here of my own accord," you assured him. "Now that we're both conscious, what would you like for breakfast? I can make eggs, pancakes, French toast, omelets so take your pick," you remarked.

"I see this is a full-service infirmary," he chuckled. "In that case, I would love an omelet with whatever ingredients you have on hand, along with a few rashers of bacon? Perhaps a few slices of buttered toast? If I may, that is," Ketch replied.

"Absolutely, it's no problem at all. I think I have some onions, mushrooms, some diced ham and definitely cheese," you remarked, rising from your chair. "Give me a few minutes to take a shower, then I'll get all that put together for you and bring it in here," you said.

"Sounds wonderful, love. In the meantime, could you perhaps help me to the toilet facilities?" Ketch asked.

"Here, I've got it," Sam called out, much to your relief.

"Thank you, Sam," you replied. "I'll be back as soon as I can with your breakfast," you said over your shoulder as you left the infirmary.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Did she stay here all night?" Ketch asked as Sam helped him to the bathroom.

Sam shrugged. "She might have, I dunno. All I know is that after dinner, she was researching something. Next thing I knew, she had given Dean a list of stuff to get at the supermarket and a craft store today," he replied.

"A craft store?!? What on earth would she need from there?" Ketch asked incredulously.

Sam hesitated before answering. It was a perfectly normal question, but to answer it would give away your surprise of a British-style Christmas for Ketch. "She has a project she's working on, and I can't tell you any more than that right now," he answered.

Ketch eased his way back into his bed, being careful to prop up his sprained ankle. "Hmm. Certainly very mysterious, Sam. In any case, whatever it is she's working on will undoubtedly be a rousing success," he remarked.

After about 30 minutes, you reentered the infirmary, breakfast tray in hand. "Here we are, breakfast is ready!" you grinned. You waited until Ketch seemed settled and ready to be served. "We have an omelet with onions, diced ham, mushrooms and cheese, six slices of bacon and four slices of buttered toast. Let me tell you, getting six slices of bacon set aside for you with Dean around was nothing short of a miracle," you chattered.

Ketch looked at the plate of breakfast fare before him and his mouth began to water. "This looks fabulous, darling. Thank you," Ketch remarked softly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the compliment and the endearment. "Well," you replied shakily. "Ring when you're done or if you need anything else. I have some Christmas preparations to attend to. A surprise for you-um, I mean, ev-everyone," you stammered.

"What are you up to, my little minx?" Ketch said as he playfully narrowed his gaze.

"N-nothing, Arthur. Well, something, but you'll see when the time is right," you replied with a wink as you left the infirmary. You tried to slow your hammering heart from his flirting in the amount of time it took to walk back to the library.

While you waited for Dean to return from the errands you'd given him, you tidied up the kitchen from making breakfast. By the time you had finished the dishes, Dean had returned from the supermarket and the craft store. He assisted you with preparing the fresh turkey for roasting in the oven and helped clean and cut the vegetables.

Once dinner was in the oven, you turned your attention to making the Christmas Crackers and paper crowns. Sam popped in to check your progress, and to see if he could help you with anything. You sent him to one of the bunker's storage rooms, #12, because you had seen some Christmas decorations while snooping around one day.

What Sam had found was a tree, lights, some garland and you added your box of ornaments from your childhood. He called Dean in to the library, and the two of them got to work putting up the tree and decorating it. You continued to work on constructing the Christmas Crackers until you had a decent supply of them, all ready for popping.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You took a short break and went to your room for some packages you'd bought earlier in the week. When you returned to the library, you brought out your stocking and the ones you had purchased for each of the boys. One for Sam, one for Dean and one for Arthur, because you knew they were hunting together around the holiday. You bought Arthur a stocking in the hope that he would maybe stick around the bunker and celebrate.

After bringing out the stockings and ornaments, you went into the kitchen to check on dinner. The closer you got to the kitchen, the more something didn't smell quite right. "Oh, no no no no no," you panicked. You quickened your pace and yanked open the oven door, only to have a cloud of thick smoke come rolling out of it. “Dammit!” you shouted.

Sam must have been right behind you and reached the kitchen in time to see the cloud coming from the oven. He yelled for Dean, who gently but firmly ushered you out of the way so he could help Sam to get rid of the smoke. They brought in a couple of large industrial-sized floor fans to push the smoke from the kitchen and out the back door.

You sank into one of the chairs at the Map Table, numbly staring at the floor. Silent tears streamed steadily down your face. You couldn't understand what went wrong, how Christmas dinner was now ruined. As soon as it was safe, you were going back to the kitchen to clean up your mess and figure out what happened.

Sam and Dean walked over to you at the Map Table. Each of them laid a hand on your shoulders and knelt in front of you. You slowly lifted your head to look at them. "Are you guys okay? Anyone get burned or anything?" you asked, your voice thick with emotion.

"No, we're fine. We had to throw out dinner, pan and all. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I know what this meant to you," Dean replied softly.

You gave a half-hearted shrug. "It's not your fault, Dean, or yours Sam. It was mine. Somewhere I made a mistake, and now dinner is ruined. I really wanted this to be a special dinner. For all of us, but especially for Arthur.

"I really wanted to give him a bit of home, observe some English traditions. I doubt he's had an opportunity to celebrate many Christmases in his current and former line of work, much like us. I guess I can't even do that right," you sniffled. "If you guys don't mind, I think I want to be alone for a while," you said as you stood up from your chair, headed for your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ketch cleared his throat as a way to announce his presence. "Lads? Is everything all right? I heard shouting and smelled smoke," he asked. Ketch had found a pair of crutches and hobbled his way into the War Room.

Sam explained to Ketch what had happened, that you had researched British Christmas traditions. He said you were trying to make a traditional British Christmas dinner for all of them, but that it somehow went wrong. "She went to check on dinner, but when she opened the oven door, a bunch of smoke came rolling out. She's pretty upset about it, too. Wanted to make this special for all of us, but especially for you," Sam finished.

"So that's what the little sweetheart was working on, with the craft store list and all," he mused. Ketch felt a warmth in his heart to know that you had gone to such lengths to try and make his Christmas special. Then, he recalled everything you'd done for him since he limped in from the last hunt. You did seem to pay particularly close attention to him and his medical care after the werewolf injuries.

Before Sam mentioned it, Ketch didn't know anything about the type of research you'd done. However, he did remember that you were a bit flustered this morning when talking about your plans for the day. When you add it up, he realized that you'd done those things because you care for him. Maybe even have feelings for him, seeing him as more than a friend.

Ketch started to examine his feelings about you. He's seen how you interact with people, how you give the best of yourself to each and every person. When he limped down the bunker stairs, he noticed how scared and worried you were for him. He saw how you pushed those thoughts to the side in favor of focusing solely on the job of healing his injuries. He knows you're tough enough to run this bunker as well as you do.

But Ketch knows you also have your softer side, with your smile and your laughter, which lighten his heart. When you talk about a particular subject that interests you, your eyes seem to sparkle like the stars in the night sky. And though your hands appear to be soft and delicate, he knows from experience that they are strong and steady. Hands that he wouldn't mind if they explored his body as his hands took their time to learn yours.

"Where is she? I need to speak with her," Ketch asked.

A grinning Sam and Dean both pointed in the direction of your room. They each took a side and escorted Ketch to your bedroom door to make sure he got there safely. Once they were at your door, Sam and Dean left Ketch to speak with you alone, because they had their own mission.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You sat on the edge of your bed for what felt like hours, going over in your mind how things had gone so wrong. The Christmas Crackers had been made, and you thought maybe you should at least share that with Ketch and the boys. You decided to end the self-pity party, and salvage what was left of your attempt at a British Christmas.

As you opened your door, you gasped when you noticed Ketch, standing at your door on his crutches, hand raised as if ready to knock. "Arthur? What are you doing out of bed? Are you all right?" you asked. You took a deep breath to keep yourself from rambling any more. "Please, come in," you said as you guided him into your room and closed the door.

There wasn't anywhere available for Ketch to sit in his current condition, so you helped him to sit up on your bed. His back was against the headboard, with the pillows you put behind him. "I'm just fine, love," Ketch affirmed as he watched you climb up onto the bed, facing him. "Well, I was fine, until I heard about dinner," he replied.

You dropped your gaze to your hands in your lap. "Yeah, me too. I'm so sorry, Arthur. I really wanted to give you a traditional British Christmas. I made Christmas Crackers, which is why Dean had to go to the craft store," you chuckled lightly.

"I confess, I was a bit curious about that when Sam mentioned it," Ketch chuckled in return.

"Well, dinner was supposed to be an oven-roasted turkey with parsnips and Brussels sprouts. That went up in smoke, and I have no idea what I did wrong," you sighed. You looked away, because tears were threatening to start again.

Ketch leaned forward and reached for you to tilt your face up with his index finger. "Maybe it wasn't anything you did, sometimes these things just happen, darling. But, do you know what the upside is?" he asked, to which you shook your head. "You get a chance to make new traditions," he replied with a wink.

"Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate your understanding," you answered shyly.

"I must say, though, I'm flattered. No woman has ever gone to such lengths to capture my attention," he started. "But then again, you've always had it, along with my heart," Ketch remarked softly.

You felt your cheeks get warm again as the meaning behind his words sunk in. "Arthur, what are you saying? That you like me, as in more than a friend?" you whispered as you shifted nearer to him on the bed.

Ketch carefully moved forward, his hand sliding around to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. With your eyes trained on Ketch's face, you inched closer until your mouths were nearly touching. "So beautiful.....," he said as he smiled softly before closing the gap and capturing your lips with his own.

You sighed into the kiss, reveling in the softness of Ketch's lips as they moved in tandem with yours. His tongue swept across your bottom lip requesting entrance, which you readily granted. Your hands moved up to cradle his face, with your thumbs caressing his cheeks. A small moan escaped your lips, which encouraged Ketch to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss broke, it left both you and Ketch trying to catch your breath. "Wow," you whispered. "That was amazing, Arthur," you remarked.

"Even better than I had imagined," Ketch murmured. "Ever since that siren case, I've been thinking what a mistake it was to have left you, my darling. I hope you can forgive me for being away so long," he said.

You shook your head. "Nothing to forgive, Arthur. I understand the nature of this life. As long as you know that there's a heart, right here, waiting for you to come home to," you affirmed.

"How fortunate I am that you have entrusted me with this heart of yours," Ketch murmured. He took your hand and held it to his chest, above his heart. "Then it is only fitting that as I have your heart, so shall you have mine," he declared.

"Sounds like a perfect arrangement. And have no fear, because I will keep it safe," you promised.

You and Ketch continued to talk in your room, with your conversation occasionally punctuated by kisses and tender touches. Some kisses long and luxurious, designed to take your breath away and succeeding in their mission.

Some kisses were hot and feverish, only going so far until you reluctantly pulled back. You were mindful that Ketch was still recuperating from injuries. However, he hinted that he was looking forward to picking up where he left off after receiving an 'all-clear' on his recovery. Ketch was pleased to see the color rise in your cheeks at his suggestion.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While you and Ketch were sorting things out between you, Sam and Dean had run into town to replace the ruined turkey dinner. Fortunately, your favorite Chinese restaurant was still open, so they brought back a variety of entrées and appetizers to choose from.

You fixed a plate for Arthur, complete with a little of everything. You placed it in front of him and leaned down for a slow, tender kiss, which he was all too willing to give. This turn of events did not go unnoticed by Sam and Dean, though neither of them said anything. Dean, however, gave you a knowing wink and squeezed your shoulder as you fixed a plate for yourself.

After dinner was finished and the leftovers were put away, you suggested for you all to watch a Christmas movie. You helped Arthur to get situated in a corner of the couch, his right leg stretched out parallel to the back cushions.

Once he was comfortable, he held out his arms, inviting you to snuggle with him. You carefully positioned yourself between his legs, your back leaning against his chest. You covered your bottom halves with the quilt your mother had made for you. Ketch closed his arms around you and took both of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, drawing a sigh of contentment from you.

For some unknown reason, Dean was allowed to pick the movie for the evening. For a moment, you thought he was going to pick Die Hard. However, he picked White Christmas, because he knew it was your favorite. From within Ketch's arms, you turned as best as you could to catch Dean's attention and sent him a silent thanks. He winked back and settled in to watch the show.

When the movie was over, Sam and Dean noticed that you and Ketch had both fallen asleep. The boys chuckled, but were happy that you'd found each other and finally confessed your feelings. "They look so cute together," Sam remarked.

"Disgustingly so," Dean agreed. He reached down and gently shook your shoulder, which was enough to wake you.

In turn, you nudged Ketch to wake him up. "Arthur?" you mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Mmm, yes darling?" he replied.

"Time to wake up, so we can go to bed," you murmured as you slowly stood. You held out your hands to assist him in getting up from the couch. Once Ketch managed to maneuver into a standing position, he wrapped his arms around you.

"Shall we, sweetheart?" Ketch asked, then he pecked your lips.

"Right this way, my love," you answered, handing him the crutches. When he had them under control, you slowly walked to your room. You nudged open the door with your foot as you guided Ketch through to the inside. "Bed's big enough for two. Unless you'd rather sleep alone in the drafty infirmary?" you questioned.

"No, no, this is fine. I know I said something about dinner and dancing before you get me into bed. But I suppose it would be all right, since we've done dinner and a movie," he quipped, a sly grin crossing his face.

You giggled, remembering his earlier attempts at flirtation while injured. "You're right, we have had dinner and a movie. Not sure you're ready for dancing quite yet, though," you replied. "Can't wait for that," you remarked huskily.

Ketch climbed back up into the bed as he had done before and waited for you to come out of the bathroom in your pajamas. You were dressed in red plaid flannel pajama pants and a rock band T-shirt. Ketch held his arm out for you to snuggle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder. Once you were settled, he curled his arm around you, holding you close to his side.

You wrapped your left arm around Ketch's midsection and tilted your head up to catch a glimpse of his ocean-blue eyes. Ketch leaned in to press his lips to your forehead, then pulled back a little to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "What are you thinking, my love?" he asked.

"I'm thinking....we didn't get to celebrate with the Christmas Crackers I made," you pretended to pout, then broke into a shy smile. "Nah, what I'm really thinking is how happy I am to have you in my life. I love you, Arthur," you replied softly.

"Well, I was kind of anxious to see how your Christmas Crackers turned out, so I could compare them to what I remember from childhood," he remarked. His response earned him a playful swat on his chest from you, then he tightened his embrace a little. "I also am happy to have you in my life, darling. I love you too," he declared, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, sweet kiss.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @janicho88 @yourelivingwrong @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @jensengirl83 @supernatural-jackles @deangirl93 @ellewritesfix05 @idreamofplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @winchesterprincessbride

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Can you write something for Yami where his s/o had a very stressful day and she is really exhausted when she gets home and he's really sweet and takes care of her by cooking her food and massaging her? It's only 4pm here and I'm really tired because I'm so busy today, I really could need Yami right now 🥺😂

Of course sweetness 🥰💕💕

You were walking back to the Black bull’s base after a hard training session. It was only mid-afternoon, but after working yourself to the bone like that, it could just as well have been 3 am. Your muscles ached, but you barely even noticed it as your head was stuck in overdrive. Thoughts ran through your head, new ideas on how to improve, what to do next, who to ask, the list went on and on, not really landing on anything conclusive.

You opened the door and collapsed on the couch. Vanessa was passed out in her usual spot with a bottle in hand, Gauche was string at a picture of Marie by the table. You could hear Luck and Magna rough housing somewhere nearby, and Grey covering in a corner. There wasn’t the usual smell of food, so Charmy must have been out tending her garden or gathering ingredients. On a normal day, you would have enjoyed the atmosphere, but today you could only groan into the sofa cushions.

You tilted your head from the cushions just enough to massage your temples while frowning. You could feel words whirling in your throat, words you didn’t really want bursting out to your friends, but at this rate it was either that or then popping a vein in your forehead. “Guys, keep it down.” Said a familiar voice.

Yami was standing next to the sofa, with his cigarette in hand, looking into the direction of the ruckus caused by Luck and Magna. You looked at him with gratitude, and the twisting and turning in your lungs eased. “Okay, princess, let’s go,” he said while picking you up from the couch and onto his shoulder as if you were weightless. You could feel your face bursting into flame. “Y-Yami, I can still walk with my own-“ You tried to persuade him, but were interrupted. “ I know. But you like it better this way, don’t ya?” He asked casually, and he was right. You did like him sweeping you from your feet, but still you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit embarrassed.

Yami carried you to your shared bedroom and laid you down onto the bed. “Wait just a moment,” he simply said and walked to the bathroom. You could hear a faucet turning on and water hitting the bathtub. A smile tugged your lips as he popped back into the bedroom. “Thank you,” you told him, words fluttering into the air. “Don’t mention in,” he said as he sat on the bed next to you and started taking your shoes off. “Hmm?” You uttered at the action, but it soon dawned onto you that he was going to give you a foot massage. His rugged hands worked your feet effortlessly. You leaned back into the bed and concentrated on the sensation. You melted under his touch and it felt like his touch sent warm waves coursing through all your body. Initially he kept up small talk about your training routine, but as you drifted off into bliss, his questions reduced.

After a while he got up and returned to the bathroom to turn the water off. You followed him, still a bit drowsy from the treatment you just received. Yami was next to the tub, stirring some lavender scented soap that you had bought into the water. “There you go. It’s good for what ails ya.” He said with a sweet smile on his face instead of the usual grin that he has. “Hmm? And you don’t want to get in with me?” You cued at him while slowly removing the top layer of your clothes. He chuckled heartily as he got up and walked to you. “You know I’d love to, but then you’d hardly get to relax.” He smirked and squeezed your ass. “But maybe later,” he continued and kissed your forehead on his way out of the bathroom.

You slipped into the bath and sank in. The scent of lavender twirling around you and the hot water causing warmth to spread into your sore muscles and joints. Your mind was now at peace, no more turmoil of ideas, just peace and quiet. Barely noticing time passing, you ran a sponge over your skin just enjoying the moment.

After a while Yami popped his head into the bathroom. “Ready to get in?” You inquired and he chuckled again. “Now, now. If I wouldn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to seduce me.” You smirked at him. “Well what if I am?” He took a clean towel from the shelf and handed it towards you. “Too late. I already am,” he said as he smirked back.

You took the towel as you got out of the bath. The air felt a bit cold against your skin, but after Yami had helped you get wrapped in the towel, you didn’t notice it anymore. “Your food is getting cold”, he said with a proud smile on his face. “My food?” He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I can’t say I’m much of a cook, but I figured that you must be hungry so I decided to make your favourite.” Your jaw dropped and eye lids opened wide. “You mean, you made…?” “Yeah.” You threw your hands around him and hugged him tight. Feeling his strong arms around you, holding you safe and warm, made your smile stretch from ear to ear.

He led you out to the bedroom where the scent of food already lingered. You could feel your mouth watering and your heart pounding in your chest in face of this gesture. He guided you to a chair to eat and gave you a neck and shoulder massage as you ate, savouring each bite. You truly felt lucky to have him in your life.

Later Yami held you close as you laid together in bed. You could feel his heartbeat calming you down as you drifted into sleep with a smile imprinted on your face.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

When He’s Sick

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: sick!dean (it’s a thing, trust me), man flu (most women in relationships, also maybe some gay men would know the constant struggles when their man is sick the ‘man flu’ (usually it’s a cold)), mentions of depression, mentions of panic attacks, fluffiness

Word Count: 2,466

a/n: was reading @supernatural-jackles​ preference list, the title is same as her preference when the boys are sick. Here’s my imagination running wild when I should be preparing to post 7 Days to Die. But, Dammit Jen’s so good, plus, Jen, I hope this is okay...I never talked ahead of time with you about it, this happened spontaneously....I guess read and let me know if it’s all good. If not I’ll remove it.

~

They had been in the town for a number of days. Hunt finished, long finished. But it turns out, someone, somewhere, somehow, the boys got sick with a nasty virus.

Sam was the first down and out. Not throwing up, but heating up with a fever. But his gut feeling like he isn’t going to last. Even if he ate something light on his stomach.

Y/N offered a small variety of foods to the giant. Saltines, applesauce, banana, toast, mashed potatoes, soup, anything light. But he turned it down.

She heard retching in the bathroom. That leaves with the older Winchester. Now when he’s sick, he’s sick. Really sick. Hearing him lose the contents of last night’s supper told her he wasn’t going to be able to keep anything solid down. At least not heavy. But they need to eat something.

He came out after washing up, pale as a ghost. If not dead already. It worried her, seeing how pale he was.

“Any leads on Dick?” He asks, words slurred. A garbled burp escaped. Only to turn into another throw up session. When he felt something coming up, he turned at his heel to make it to the toilet.

It had been weeks since Bobby’s death, Dean was running himself ragged finding Dick. Both him and Sam both wanted revenge. But at least, Sam knows when to stop to sleep and eat. But Dean, has one speed. Go.

She could only shake her head. He needs to take a break.

“You are in no condition to keep this up Dean.” She says from the door.

“Rain or shine, I’m hunting Dick.” He says. He hears her snort. “Oh grow up.” he groans as another wave hit him. Only making him groan louder, unable to throw up.

She took the time to head out to grab some supplies for them before they leave to head to the hunters cabin where they hid out, but also primarily lived.

Grabbing canned soups, broth, and even grabbed a thing of potatoes to mash up. She had weird, not so traditional ways of getting nourishment when sick but also something to be easy on the stomach.

Driving back she heads to their room. Sam still in bed, sound asleep. She hears a moan from the kitchen. To find Dean on the floor.

“Dean!” she says, concerned. Dropping the groceries on the table before rushing over to help him up.

“I’m fine.” He slurs.

“You’re not fine, you’re on the kitchen floor for no reason.” She says, helping him up.

She could feel the muscles in his arms trembling, they were fatigued.

“The floor moved on me.” He mumbles.

As she struggles to get him up right, she had his back at her chest, so his head fell back on her shoulder. He was out of it. But she wraps an arm around to touch his forehead.

“Dean, you’re burning up. We need to cool you off.” She says. Pushing him up to his feet.

“Seriously, I’m fine.” He continues.

He’s up, but knees weak nearly gave out. She has his arm around her shoulder as she practically dragged him to his bed. When his but landed on the side of the bed he didn’t stop the rest of his body to fall onto the bed with a significant bounce.

“No you’re not. You got something, you and Sam both. You threw up, and are running a fever. You need to stop and rest. It’s not gonna kill you.” She says.

He didn’t have the energy to fight her. He doesn’t even fight her when she takes his boots off. Undressing him down to his t-shirt and boxers, tucking him in bed under a thin layer of sheets.

I’m gonna have to play nurse. She thought.

Pulling the thermometer out on the boys. Sam rang a temperature in the hundreds, but it was easily manageable.

“102, just rest up Sam, ‘kay?” she says.

Sam nods. “No problem, this sucks.” He groans.

“I’m making some soup and mashed potatoes. It’s cream of chicken and veggie soup. What’s best is you could also put some of the soup on the potatoes.” She suggests.

“Sounds good, my stomach has calmed down some, so I’ll try some.” He says.

“That’s good.” She says.

“How’s Dean?” he asked.

“His fever is nearing 104, he ate a few saltines before taking the fever reducer. He’ll try to throw up, but it just turns into dry heaves, I can tell they hurt. Whatever he got, it’s worse than what you have.” She says.

“If he gets worse?” he asks.

“He might need to go to the hospital then. For all I know it’s just the flu.” She says.

“The flu can get bad though.” Sam goes.

“In kids and the immunocompromised. And the elderly…And the uninsured…” she listed.

Sam chuckled. “It’s so sad how it’s preventable, but the government makes it a fucking hassle to just take care of your own health.” He says.

“And they die as the end result, because the meds they need or the care they need are too much for them, and they can’t get them. It’s wrong on so many levels. It’s like they’re bullies stealing our lunch money, they’re holding it out of reach and we’re too short to grab it.” she says.

“That’s what I was thinking of saying. But I’m not thinking straight.” He says.

“It’s the fever. Rest up Sammy. I’ll tell the caretaker we’re staying until you two are a little better. At least better enough for the road trip back to the cabin.” She suggests.

“I know I could, him I’m worried about.” Sam says. She nods, agreeing.

 She was only able to get them the room for a couple of more hours before they had to move out. Sam was able to eat her soup and potatoes, Dean not so much. The smell of the food made him gag.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I just made it look like your food smells awful, and it don’t. it smells amazing, my stomach is just in knots.” Dean whines, rolling on his side in his bed.

“It’s okay Dean, I know. I could tell you wanted to try but your stomach is making it rough. I’ll just pack it up in some topper wear and I’ll pack us up and drive us back.” She says.

“Um, no, you’re not driving my car.” Dean says, trying to get up. Only to dry heave while getting up, lurching forward, nothing coming up.

“Dean, you’re in no condition. Neither is Sam. I couldn’t get us to stay longer. You’re just going to have to deal with it.” she says. “I’ll help you out to the car when we’re ready.” She says.

 The drive was smoother than it could have been. Dean passed out in the back seat; Sam curled up in his usual sleeping position when it came to sitting in the passenger seat.

She didn’t like driving older vehicles. They drove like boats, and this was worse, it was a truck. The year wasn’t that far off, but it was old enough. The four door truck had comfy, inviting seats that took Sam and Dean into dreamland in the instant they got comfortable.

She managed to get the cabin just fine, unpacking without jostling them awake. She got their beds ready with cleaner sheets, Sam was easy to wake up. He was eager to get into a bed. Dean was reluctant, already cozy and relaxed he was content with sleeping in the truck.

“Dean, you can’t stay in here. You’ll make your fever worse.” She says, nudging him awake more.

“Fine.” He mumbles, sitting up sluggishly. Shoulders slumped.

“Come on Dean, I’ll help you.” She says.

“I can walk myself.” He snaps. He’s grumpy.

She snapped her hand away from him, letting him walk himself. But kept to herself after that. But it didn’t really stop her from checking in on him.

Cleaning the cabin she put on her phone her music she’d sing to while doing such chores. Grew up on country music she listened to some old Keith Urban Music, from his albums Defy Gravity, Love, Pain and the Whole Crazy thing, and Be Here, she dusted singing along to Standin’ Right in Front of You.

“Y/N, please stop singing! I’m trying to sleep!” she heard Dean shout from his room.

Feeling guilty, she just hummed the song as she cleaned. She felt bad for a minute, the feeling sticking with her throughout her cleaning.

She cooked up more soup for the boys, cleaned, and once done she just jammed out on the couch with the TV on Spanish Soap Operas. Trying to shake the guilt feeling she had early, as it crept back up on her.

 That night, after the boys ate and got situated for bed, one Winchester had something on his mind.

She was watching cable television, surfing here and there trying to get away from Spanish Soaps, but always finding her way back when finding nothing else on. She heard the floor creak behind her.

Her headphones were off, music off, just relaxing watching TV, she turned to see the older Winchester standing adjacent of the couch. Looking exhausted.

“You’re not coming to bed?” he asked. Voice still rough from being sick.

“I’m not tired. Besides, you need the bed. You’re still sick.” She says softly.

“You’ve been cleaning all day, taking care of me and Sam, you’ve got to be exhausted.” He says, something off about his tone.

“Dean, it’s fine. Just go back to bed, rest.” She says kindly.

He doesn’t say anything to that, but sits on the couch with her.

“Do you even like Spanish Soap Operas?” he asks, hiding a chuckle.

“I don’t like Soap Operas period.” She says. “But we got only cable TV, and it’s 2 in the morning. There’s nothing on.” She says.

“I’m sensing there’s more going on.” Dean goes.

“Dean, why are you up in the first place?” She asks. “You’re sick, you need to rest to get better.” She adds.

“Well see, there’s this girl. She’s more than a friend to me. I’ve been kind of a dick to her lately.” He says.

“Dean, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have babied you; I should have kept it down when I was cleaning. It’s fine.” She says.

“And I know how sensitive you are, and can be. You love to take care of those you love. I’m the same way.” He says. “I guess I was more mad at myself for getting sick, I was so fixated on finding Dick I even didn’t care how sick I got.” He adds.

“You got a drive in you it’s scary, but it’s fine Dean. You’re only human. You have limitations, we all do. But you got to recognize your physical limitations and give yourself a break, and then get back at it again when you’re better.” She says.

“Back at you sweetheart.” He goes.

“Huh?” she asks.

“You got to know your mental limitations too. I’ve noticed how quiet you’ve been getting since we got sick. Plus, in the past, I’ve seen it happen. Sam mentioned it to me, Bobby knew it. Depression. It’s no joke Y/N. You got to take care of yourself mentally too.” Dean says.

She locks up, her walls going on. And he sees her tense. “And it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. but you can’t bottle it up. You got to deal with it. But you don’t have to do it alone.” He adds.

She nods, fiddling with her fingers.

“What has that demon told you in your head lately?” he asks.

“I’m not doing good enough to care for you or Sam.” She says quietly. Voice beginning to crack. “Stop trying.” She adds.

“You know that’s bull shit right?” he asks. He can see her shake her head.

“You snapped at me, yelled at me to keep it down.” she says. “That’s when it started getting bad.” She adds.

“And now?” he asks.

“It’s saying he’s going to throw you out; he doesn’t want you or your issues. You’re too much for him.” She says. Her throat holding back a sob.

“I’d never do that to you. You’re more than my friend, you’re my girl. I know I haven’t been the best friend lately. But I’m here now. Yes I’m sick, but I want to be there for my girl.” He says. “I’ll kick this demons ass for you, just tell me what you need.” He adds.

“I’m about to have a panic attack, I can feel it come on, can you hold me through it?” she asks, her voice disappearing.

Not saying a word, he invites her in his arms, and the two cuddle on the couch as she cries her eyes out, shakes and trembles, and works to get her breathing under control.

After a while she fallen asleep in the Older Winchester’s arms, when a wooden creak can be heard in the living room.

“How is she holding up?” Sam asks, walking in.

“She’s asleep now, that was a bad attack from the looks of it.” Dean says.

“How are you feeling by the way?” Sam asks.

“Better, but still a little under the weather. You?” He says.

“A bit better. Just a sore throat now.” Sam answers.

“I say we take care of her tomorrow, even if she’s not sick, but she needs us.” Dean says.

“I agree with that.” Sam says. “You up to carrying her or?” He asks.

“Dude, I’m exhausted. And I really don’t want to move her. Just grab us a blanket and some pillows, we’ll crash here.” Dean says with a groan.

“Sure thing.” Sam says with a tired smile. Heading into Dean’s room, grabbing a few blankets, a couple of pillows and heads back to the couch covering them up, and handing Dean the pillows.

“Night Jerk.” Sam goes.

“Night Bitch.” Dean says.

 Sun rose high that morning. Dean woke up with, feeling a warm spot on his chest. Seeing her still asleep, not moving from her spot.

Brushing a strand of hair back, his fingers grace over her forehead. His brows furrow when he feels how warm she feels.

She moans, waking up, causing a dry cough.

“Sounds like someone got sick.” Dean says.

“I feel sick too.” She says, her voice rough and scratchy.

“I finally get to return the favor, and take care of you for a change.” He says with a big grin, hugging her close making her giggle.

“I’m loving it so far.” She says hugging him back.

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 10/2/2020

~

Dean Taglist:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​

[miss-dr-reid]

This is calm, and it's, Doctor #6

A little something different for this one.

~Spencer's POV~

After I ordered the food to be delivered, I turned around to see y/n had disappeared from her perch on the stool. I walked around the bench, looked down the hall and saw no movement. I walked over to the lounge and found her resting, looking so peaceful.

Her face looked soft, lips parted slightly. Her arms cuddled the cushion tocher chest while her legs were called up, fitting into the lounge. Not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber, I grabbed a book and sat at the table behind her. I sat on the side of the table that allowed me to see her face whenever I looked up from my book.

She was so beautiful in so many ways. In the week I've known her, I've noticed myself wanting to be around her as much as possible. She was so smart, but humble enough that she never really corrected anyone if that hadn't called her 'Doctor', so much so, that maybe people didn't even realise.

I looked up from my book as she stirred, taking in a deep breath, smacking her lips to get her quietly as she exhaled. My heart skipped a beat as I watched. After a while of reading, there was a knock on the door, 'Dinner', I thought as I walked over and opened the door.

Happy to see my dinner in the hands of the delivery man, I handed him a $10 tip and he went on his way. I closed the door and popped the bag onto the bench. I unpacked by he bag on the bench, ensuring everything was there b

"Vegetable omelette, fried rice, beef and black bean..." Quietly listing them to myself as I set them in the bench, followed by the complimentary prawn chips. I headed over for the lounge.

"Y/N," I kneeled next to her on the ground, "y/n, dinner is here." I tapped her hand which was wrapped around her wrist, holding her arms together.

One eye popped open slightly, looking at me.

"Dinner?" Her voice, a whisper.

"Yeah!" I confirmed. She grabbed my hand, surprising me. I hadn't realised that I had rested mine on hers after waking her. She used me to help herself up, throwing her feet to the ground, yawning and stretching.

I got up and walked back to the kitchen, grabbing plates and cutlery for each of us. Y/N took the stool where she had been before laying down. I took the one next to her, handing over the plate and cutlery I got for her. Her face screwed up as I handed over the cutlery.

"What?" I asked, thinking something was wrong. She picked up the fork I had given her,

"A fork? Do you have chopsticks?" She asking, faking offence.

I grabbed out the complimentary ones from the bottom of the bag and gave them to her. Satisfied with her utensils, she proceeded to pour some of each dish onto her plate.

"You gonna eat those?" She gestured toward the prawn chips. I shook my head, sliding them her way. She happily accepted them, opening the bag and diving right in. I watched as she pulled out chips, inspecting each one. After watching for a while, I reduced that she was looking for 'bowl-shaped' chips so she could pile as much food onto it as possible.

I let out a little laugh as I realised. I was so intrigued in how she chose to are, I couldn't help but watch. As much as it usually revolted me, I was too invested to stop. After picking the perfect chip, scooping as much food onto it as possible, she'd try eat it all in one go.

"You right?" She asked, snapping me out of my trance I hadn't realised I was in. Her eyes watched my face as I nodded, not knowing what to say.

"I- I've never seen anyone eat like that." was all I could manage.

"I'm not just anyone, Spence." She joked, wiggling her eyebrows and elbowing my arm. I faked an injury, grabbing my arm with an "Ow!". Even though 'Spence' was a nickname used my most people I know, the way Y/N says it makes it sound so good. And, when she calls me 'Doctor', something happens inside me, I can't even describe it. The thought of her saying my name makes my heart race.

We finished eating dinner and I wanted the few dishes we had messed, Y/N watched me Street I had declined her offer of help. I noticed her watching my hands, and looking up to my face every now and then, her own face resting on her propped up hand.

Once I was done, I dried my hands on the tea towel that was in the bench. I took the couple of steps over to the bench opposite Y/N. Leaning on my elbows, I looked over her face, her eyes slightly droopy, but not necessarily tired, I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Spence..." she said soft and slightly hoarse, "can we listen to some music?"

"Oh yeah. I have a Google Home, so, to for it." I told her.

"Hey Google," she started, "Play 'Moo' by Doja Cat." She called, a smirk filling her lips. I was confused, so I focused on Google.

"Bitch, I'm a cow." It started. I was taken aback and Y/N laughed, quickly changing the song.

"Hey Google, play 'Crazy Little thing called Love." She hopped off the stool and walked to the empty area between the bench and table.

The song started and she started dancing. Her voice filled the room, full of passion. I was enjoying watching her perform until she gestured for me to join her. I shook my head, stiffening at the idea of dancing.

"Please Spence, it'll loosen you up, and we all need to chill out." She almost begged, fluttering her eyelashes, while holding her arms out toward me, a grabbing motion played on her fingers.

Seeing this side of Y/N was strange, but comforting. The entire time I had known her, she was always serious. Happy to have a laugh, but never too much fun. I unwillingly obliged only because I wanted to see her smile again, and she did as I stated toward her.

She didn't get my hands like o thought she would, instead she swayed her body in time with the music causing me to follow along. I did enjoy this more than I was expecting to. I think, because of her. She was singing, dancing and almost performing a whole concert.

She stopped in her tracks, smirking at me as she called for Google to play another song.

#Where have all the good men gone

and where are all the gods?

Where's the streetwise Hercules

To fight the rising odds#

She sang along, hitting every note, I was in awe. After the song, she decided one okay change was necessary. The music changed to the artist 'Bruno Mars', her body language changed. She went from partying and jumping around, to smooth fluid, alluring moves.

"Got anything to drink?" Her voice, breaking my thoughts one more time, "Anything adult?" She emphasised.

Thinking for a second, I did have some whiskey that I was gifted and never drank. I grabbed the bottle bedroom the top shelf of an overhead cupboard. I collected a glass from another, scooped some ice from the freezer, and poured out a drink into the glass, sliding the glass over to her across the bench.

She took it, sniffed it, swirled it and took a sip. She swallowed it all up after getting a taste, tapping the glass on the counter and with her best western accent,

"Another, barkeep!" She mustered out. I poured another, and she downed it. She got up to resume her dancing. I put the lid on the bottle and left it on the bench.

I walked around and sat on the stool, enjoying watching her sing and dance, relaxing as the drinks styles in her system. She danced for a while, eventually joining me as I wandered over to the lounge. She brought the whiskey, her glass and one for me. Not being a big drinker, I declined. She didn't press but left the glass on the coffee table in front of us.

"I guess you're staying tonight?" I asked, watching her pour another drink.

"Oh, shit!" She stopped, looking up at me, "Spence, I'm sorry! I can go- I- I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you don't want me here!" Worry in her voice as she realised there had been no official invitation for her to stay. She didn't need one. I was over the moon to have company that wasn't my brain and numerous books.

"No, you're not going anywhere. I have some spare clothes that I'm sure will fit you if you feel like changing. Please, Y/N, you are more than welcome to stay tonight and whenever else you'd like to." I assured her, placing my hand on my shoulder, only removing it once she relaxed.

She let out a breathy sigh and laid back against the lounge, exhaling deeply. Her hands grabbed each side of her face and pulled down slowly until they teachers her chin.

"I would love to get changed." She whispered and rolled her head to look at me.

I tilted my head so it was same angle as hers,

"Come on." I reached for her hand, she smiled at me as she took it in hers. She trailed closely behind as I led her to my room. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off, and she kicked than back and forth.

I opened my wardrobe and rifled through the racks, finding an old plain grey tee. I took it out and laid it next to her on the bed. Y/N's hand ran over it as I dove back in to my wardrobe. I found a pair of darker grey tracks and laid them on top of the shirt.

"There's a spare towel hanging in the bathroom if you'd like to shower. I'll be in the loungeroom, reading most likely." I spoke, putting my hands in my pockets, shifting from heel to toe not wanting to leave.

Her looked me up and down, with raised eyebrows. When she got back to my face, she glanced between me and the door.

"Oh, right!" I spun on my heels and left, closing the door behind me. "Idiot. You work together. What do you even want from her!?" I asked myself once I was out of earshot.

Entering the loungeroom, music was still playing. A new song came on and I decided to listen to it, trying to get an idea of the music Y/N likes.

#I found a love, for me# I clicked on the lyrics tab of the Google Home screen.

#Darling, just dive right in

Follow my lead# I hadn't realised that I had started swaying to the song.

Arms wrapped around my waist, a face rested on my back. I stiffened at the sudden touch. I turned, Y/N only loosened her grip enough for me to spin around. She looked up at me, smiling contently. Her arms still wrapped around my waist, she rested her face on my chest. She started swaying, causing us both to sway. I rested my arms over her shoulders, one hand on top of her head, under my chin.

As we were swaying, she shifted her arms from my waist to my shoulders, my arms from her shoulders to her waist. Her fingers made their way up my neck and to the back of my head, playing with the curls that day there. My hands responded, rubbing her back slowly up and down.

I wanted to hold her there forever. To kiss the top of her head. To pick her up and just hold her.

But, we work together. We're friends, mates. It can't happen. She doesn't even like me like that.

His can't happen.... Right?

[angst-king]

Misery loves Company pt 2

Ito had become worried as her son had slept all day, it was six thirty now, she was making dinner. All day she’d been having a bad feeling about Eijirou, that what he was going through wouldn’t end well but. She shook this off and reminded herself that Eijirou was tough and that he’d be okay even with this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. Even though she knew Eijirou wouldn’t have much of an appetite, he needed to eat something, and soup was better than nothing. Putting some soup into a food thermos which could hold the perfect amount of food she knew Eijirou could stomach, she grabs a spoon and heads up to the teen’s room. 

Coming up to his room, she could hear the muffled sound of coughing, thick wet coughing. Knocking on the door, she peers in and is confused as she sees Eijirou on the floor shaking and coughing next to his bed. “Eijirou? Sweetie, are you okay?” She asked as she set down the thermos and spoon onto the nightstand. “M-mom, h-help” Was all his raspy strained vocal cords could get out as he gasped and sputtered. She rushed down to the floor beside him and asked. “What's wrong baby? Why are you on the floor?” She pulled Eijirou close to her and he continued to shake. “S-so much p-pain momma, i-i can’t breathe-” He coughed hard and Ito grabbed the bucket just in time for him to vomit. When he’s able to talk about it he whimpers and grunts.  “I-it feels like someone’s sitting on my chest, poking me with a taser and yanking on my bones, while I'm in the freezer section of the store.” This made Ito nervous, she quickly reached to feel Eijirou’s forehead and pulled it away just as fast. He’s burning up! It's like over the hours he’s just gotten worse! His coughing is getting longer and more frequent, and he’s in so much pain that he can hardly move on his own. He looks pale, very pale. Her alarm bells are ringing louder and louder as Eijirou is clinging to her with a weak grip. She can hear him struggling to breath, she can hear his wheezing and congested breaths, he’s panting. What she didn’t know was that while Eijirou was sleeping, he’d had a seizure, which was a reason for why he was so shaky, he also was cold. Well that was the bad fever talking but he felt cold nonetheless. Snatching the thermometer and uncasing it, she asked Eijirou to open his mouth. He's too weak to keep it in his mouth on his own so she has to hold it steady under the boy’s tongue for him. “ 39.4” Her eyes widened as his temperature went up two degrees! She needed to get him to the hospital, she knew he wouldn’t like it but she had to, this wasn’t something they could just let him sleep through. 

“Eijirou sweetie, we need to go to the ER. I know you don’t like it but we have to.” She says moving with urgency and purpose, she picks him up and sets him on the bed and grabs what she needs. She knew they were gonna strip him of his pajamas and shoes there so she didn’t even bother to grab him shoes or socks. She grabbed his medical bag, the list of his medications and records, she went into her room and grabbed her phone, purse and keys. She put on shoes before coming back to carry Eijirou who wordlessly agreed to going to the ER. He only nodded when she said they were going to the hospital. His limbs loosely dangling, she did her best to not jostle him around as she took him to the car. Buckling him up she puts his medical bag in the back seat, her purse on the floor of the passenger seat and turns on the house alarm. 

She’s impatient as the garage door takes its time opening itself up and she makes it a quick task to get out and close the door without staying in the driveway a second longer. She’s on the road, she’s not speeding but she’d definitely be using the speeding limit range to the fullest. Eijirou is coughing up a storm, luckily there are trash bags for instances like these. Ito was trying to keep calm, trying to keep her adrenaline from making decisions for her. It didn’t help that mid car ride Eijirou had another seizure, she knew how to handle those seeing as there wasn’t much she could do she kept an eye on him as she drove.

When she pulled into the ER parking lot, she swiftly found a spot and parked. Unlocking the car doors she gets out, grabs her purse and Eijirou’s bag from the back before getting Eijirou out of the car. “Come on hun, lets go'' She says trying to hide her worry in her voice even though Eijirou is half conscious. Shutting the door with her foot she is almost running with the boy in her arms. Dashing into the ER the doors open and she calls out “HELP I need help please!” A nurse comes over, all eyes are on them but Ito doesn’t care. “What’s wrong ma’am?” The nurse asked hustling over to her, Ito explained to her “My son has Cystic fibrosis, CIDP, and epilepsy and he’s been having a bit of a flare up for a week and he just got so much worse today. His fever is 102, he’s coughing more than usual, he can’t move there much on his own, and he says it feels like someone is sitting on his chest and pulling on his bones. He’s had two seizures today, and he’s barely alert. The nurse nods and calls for another nurse to grab a gurney. “Okay ma’am, what’s your son’s name and how old is he?” “His name is Kirishima Eijirou, and he’s14.” “Okay- set him on the gurney, we’ll take him to a bay room, follow us.” The gurney arrives and Ito places the boy on that, he’s a bit curled up still coughing and shaking hard. The other nurse takes the lead and pushes Eijirou to the bay area. Ito isn’t far behind the nurse she’d met with  as they go down the hallways. The nurses grab a doctor and things get moving. Giving the doctor the run down after he introduces himself to Ito as Dr Shidori, the nurses are hooking Eijirou up to multiple wires, lines, and machines. While this is going on Ito is asked multiple questions about EIjirou like. “How long has he been having a flare up for?” “When did he start going down hill?” “has he eaten or consumed anything during his flare ups” “what medications and treatments is he on?” “Is he allergic to anything?” Ito didn’t have trouble answering their quickly asked questions as the staff moved like a well oiled machine. 

Ito felt two different feelings tugging at her, wanting to stay with her son, and needing to leave him. She wanted to stay not knowing whether he’d live or, staying to keep her son calm and to let him know she hadn’t abandoned him but. She felt so out of place though with the rush of people around her, in a way feeling useless, able to do much of anything but stand there and watch and answer questions or give permission. She didn’t really know what to do about this, there were so many emotions running through her, anxiety, hope, hopelessness, sadness. Finally her answer was given to her when the room began to slow down and the doctor began to explain things. They allowed her to sit in the chair next to Eijirou's bedside.  “Alright Mrs Kirishima, we’ve got some time to talk.” The doctor started, Ito nodded, brushing back her hair behind her ears. “First things first, Eijirou needs to be hospitalized, from what you’ve told me this isn’t the first time he would be hospitalized. The flare up he is having is proving that one, his stomach isn’t absorbing his food and that means he’s very vitamin, minerals and elementally deficient, which means his immune system is weak also. I’m sure you understand this right?”  He asked before continuing, Ito nodded once more so the doctor kept going. “We can not do the same type of monitoring as an inpatient long stay hospital can. You know why and you know that places that you’ve taken Eijirou to before will be able to observe him, do better testing and care for him….Another reason I mention this is because cold and flu season is starting a little earlier than what I’ve expected and it would be safer for him to be admitted they get him all better before hand or see what needs to be done so we’re not just releasing him back out to get tens times worse to the point where it could be too late. We can do some of his breathing treatments and stuff here, but it won't be as efficient. I will have a nurse call in to the local children’s hospital, and they will get things sorted out from there.” Taking in a deep breath, Ito sighed “okay, when do you think he will be transferred?” “I will have a nurse call and will get right back to you with that answer”  Ito could understand why the doctor didn’t have an answer for her on the spot and could appreciate his honesty. “Now about Eijirou, his body isn’t receiving or taking on the medications he’s being given and he’s not taking on food either but we will give him supplementary food seeing as first of all he might not have the energy to eat, second it will boost up his sugar wich he needs but for right now he’s getting everything through IVs. We’ve given him fever reducer, epileptic medication,  we didn’t have the type that he is on right now but we have one that works for the majority of young patients his age. He’s also getting potassium which is another reason for his trembling, his muscles were so tense from lack of potassium. We gave him a mix of midazolam and vitamin D as well. We’re just here to monitor his condition and give him as much help as possible till he’s transferred.” Ito sighed for what felt like the millionth time, she hated having to have her son be hospitalized in a long stay facility but she knew it was gonna be good for him. 

All she could do was nod, when the doctor left them be for the night in the ICU. She contemplated making a phone call, it was about ten pm now, much later and Ito was restless. She didn’t know if she should call Emily or not? The other definitely deserved to know but she didn’t know whether she should call her now. Maybe she should call when she’s got more information so she doesn’t have to call Emily twice? Why wait though? Eijirou just had a medical emergency, he could die tonight! Ito knew she wouldn’t be sleeping any easier if she didn’t at least try to call Emily. Grabbing her phone, she called her wife. She didn’t hope to  hard for her wife to pick up. Knowing most of the time it was a varying range of hit or miss, and it was mainly miss.

A little shocked the woman had picked up, she smiles hearing Emily’s voice. “Hi babe, d’you call to say goodnight?” “u-um no actually, we need to talk….it's about Eijirou.” Ito’s voice trails and Emily can hear in her voice this isn’t good news at all. “O-okay, well I’m here, what’s wrong with Eijirou?” The military woman sighs, Ito explains to Emily that their son is getting sicker and is going to be admitted to a long stay hospital for a while to see if they can get him better. When Ito was done Emily spoke softly,“i-I’m sorry you have to go through this with him a-alone babe. I-I wish I could be there I really really do.” you could hear sympathy but also regret. There were many days and nights where Emily contemplated her career path. Why would she join the army when she had a chronically ill son at home!?! Why didn’t she stay to help? Why put all of this on poor Ito who took the job of being a parent and business woman just to go back to her home country and join the military?! 

It seemed selfish but this was her dream. Emily from a young age wanted to carry on the legacy of going into the military for her family. She had the dedication and spirit for it and when opportunity struck she took it but. She contemplated her choices. It was a year after Eijirou was born when she started to really contemplate going into the military and was given the chance. Ito and her talked it over numerous nights and Ito supported her the entire way there when the decision was made. Emily knew she’d be leaving her wife and son behind eventually but they didn’t know what she’d be leaving Ito to deal with as Ejirou’s sickness didn’t show up completely until he was six. Emily had left a year before then and when Eijirou was first diagnosed with CF and epilepsy it broke her heart, especially since he would be hospitalized for a long stay for the first time. She knew that for both Ito and Eijirou that being hospitalized and not being able to see the other as frequently as they would’ve before can be a bit traumatic. Still Ito always reassured Emily that she didn’t have to give up on being in the military for them, that they were fine.

Ito could hear the regret in her wife’s voice and spoke gently. “Emi, you have nothing to be sorry for. I know that you always feel bad for leaving me with Eijirou but. We made this decision together, and I don’t ever want you to feel bad about this. This was inevitable once we found out Eijirou was chronically ill and sure things would be a bit easier if you were here but, we’re doing great. I know that you wish you could be here in person to support us but, we feel your support all the way from North america...We love you so much Emi, you’ll be able to facetime him, and who knows, maybe you might be able to see him in person.” “Th-thanks Ito, i-i….I just hope he gets better, or I’ll at least be able to see him soon...I miss you both so much.” her voice cracking at the end Ito could tell her lover was crying. It hurt her to hear the other so upset, and she could understand why the woman felt this way. “Hey babe, I’ll update you when I get more information okay….I love you” “Okay love, I love you too.” They hang up, Ito puts her phone into her purse and gets herself comfortable in the hospital so she could try and get some sleep.

In the morning a nurse came in to check on Eijirou as well as inform Ito about the long stay at the hospital. They discussed the hospital, about how long Eijirou would stay there and who they’d talk to about treatment plans. Truthfully Eijirou’s stay duration would depend on how his body responds to treatment and Ito knew this, this wasn’t new information so luckily the discussion wasn’t very long, Eijirou would be admitted in by tomorrow morning. The day was rather boring, calling her work to tell her about her son being hospitalized as a way of keeping them informed and ready for any random call off days. Since she had the time, she headed home and backed a two week stay bag of clothes and things she knew he could take with him to the hospital. 

Conversations with doctors, filling out papers and making sure everyone was on the same page, Eijirou was soon transferred to Tokyo’s children's long stay hospital.

[thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild]

25 more things I learned during a global pandemic from your Local Teenage Train wreck :) (Pt. 2)

1. Gaining weight is okay. Losing weight is okay. Bodies fluctuate and are inconsistent. Just make sure that you’re trying your best to be healthy, whatever that means for you. 

2. School is hard, especially during a global. freaking. pandemic. Don’t beat yourself up if it’s harder to get up in the morning or your grades aren’t as high as they usually are. It’s hard right now. 

3. You’re mental health comes above all. School, responsibilities, and personal projects are not worth your time if it’s affecting your mental health. If your gut is telling you to take a break, take a break!

4. If you feel lonely, get a plant to keep in your room. Do some research as to that plants do best with the type of lighting in your room, and figure out some basic care instructions. Have someone to take care of besides yourself. Name your plants, and take care of them. 

5. Even if you’re not good at writing, I suggest you keep a journal during this time. It kept me sane over the summer, and even though I eventually stopped because of limited time with school starting back up, it helped to keep me sane in the worst of the pandemic. 

6. If you’re spiritual (or even if you’re not) learn how to do shadow work. This isn’t anything that has to be spiritual or done in just one religion. It’s basically giving yourself a chance and a space to be open and honest with yourself and to learn what you might need to work on through writing. If you google it, you can find a more in depth explanation, and prompts to start doing it. You basically give yourself a prompt. They can be questions like “What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone else or yourself?” or they can be a little less heavy like “What are five non physical things that you genuinely like about yourself?”. This can be pretty heavy, and can dig up some unwanted emotions, but that’s the whole point; to deal with the emotions you may have been repressing and letting fester inside of you. 

7. On days when you’re not feeling well mentally, take a break. It’s okay to drop everything and get an extra hour of sleep, read, or do something else to make yourself feel better.

8. After hard days, I know the last thing you want to do is get up and continue on, but here are some ways to do it:

- lay out an outfit that’s put together, but not as over the top. No sweat pants or crappy clothes, but it doesn’t have to be your usual put together outfits with a full face of makeup. A nice crewneck and a nice pair of black athletic leggings can go a long way. 

-wear your comfort jewelry. I wear my beaded necklace that I bought for myself,  the silver ring my grandma gave me and the gold cross ring that my mom gave to me when I got confirmed. 

-eat breakfast. A handful of cereal will do. Anything. But eat something. I like to make oatmeal. It sounds boring but if you make it right, it tastes just perfect for mornings when you don’t feel hungry but know inside that you are. Recipe is next on the list :)

-go to school. I know you want to lay in bed. I know the last place you want to be is a crowded building full of pubescent teens that aren’t nice, but go. Go to learn. Go to absorb knowledge like a sponge, and don’t worry if you fail and lose some of the water, because you can always soak it up later. 

-if you have practice, rehearsal, a game, whatever, be gentle on yourself. Today might not be your best day physically, because the brain controls everything. Forgive yourself if you can’t land that double pirouette, get to the high note, or make that assist. You’re abilities are stagnant, and they’re going to change depending on how you feel

-When you get home, turn off your phone. Friends, social media, etc. can wait. Set a timer for one hour. Do work for just that hour. When the timer rings, finish what you were doing and then stop. Now have a 20 minute break and do something that’s not screen related. Read a book, draw something; heck, stare at the wall for 20 minutes and space out. When the timer rings, do another hour and repeat the same process until it’s all done. 

-have a playlist you listen to to heal you. Sad boi hours are ok, just make sure to have a playlist of songs that get you moving again. 

-Sleep. Even if that means putting off work for tomorrow. It’s ok. You really need it. 

9. Oatmeal seems gross until you know how to prepare it. When you do, it’s revolutionary. It’s a high volume, low calorie food, so you’ll stay full for a while without overeating, all while consuming less calories than you would with a traditional breakfast cereal. 

The right way to make it: 

-measure out half a cup of old fashioned oats. Not steel cut. Those aren’t as good. 

-MOST IMPORTANT STEP: add half a cup of water and half a cup of milk of your choice. I personally like almond milk because it’s kind of sweet already even when it’s unsweetened. 

-SECOND MOST IMPORTANT STEP: add a pinch of salt, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and allspice, and a teaspoon or two of maple syrup. This is what makes it taste palatable. It’s less sugar than store-bought, and tastes amazing. 

-Microwave that shit for one minute and stir. It should look kind of lumpy, but not a ton. Then, put another minute on. Stir at every half increment. (After 30 seconds, every 15 seconds, and then every 7) This is so it doesn’t boil over. Then, take it out, stir it one last time, and let it sit for a second. 

-Wash up some berries to put in it. I love blueberries and or blackberries. 

perfect oatmeal every. single. time. Feel free to add more toppings like nuts or if you wanna treat yourself chocolate or substitute the spices, but this is honestly one of my favorite breakfasts that keeps me full throughout the day. 

10. Learn a new language. Yes, Duolingo is annoying, but do it. Find one that you’ll like to learn and that’s easy for you. Try them on like old clothes and find one that fits just right. For me, it’s French. Expose yourself to that language. Listen to music, read books (or try to) and watch movies with subtitles. Soon enough, you’ll be eager to learn more. 

11. Learn how to use notion.com. It’s super amazing. You can literally keep track of your entire life there. It’s pretty fun to use as well. I made schedules for each day after school, a reading log, a want to read list, a personal habit tracker, etc, and they’re all extremely helpful. 

12. Make a list of things you weren’t allowed to do as a kid and do one every day. Heal your inner child by finally itching the spot that may not have been scratched for years. 

13. Learn how to make origami stars. They’re really easy, and I can’t recommend Maqaroon’s (Joanna’s) video on how to make them enough. Once you’ve got it down, get yourself a nice big jar and write down things you’re grateful for on the slips of paper you’re going to fold. Fill up your gratitude jar and make a wish once it’s full. It will come true. 

14. Have 30 minutes a day to put your phone down and read. Yes. You will have to sacrifice something to do this, but it’s so important and good for not only information retention and learning, but for mental health as well. Even if you have to get up half an hour earlier to do it, it’s worth it. 

15. It’s okay to be alone, but learn to recognize the difference between alone and lonely. If you’re lonely, here are some things to do:

-write a letter to a friend. It’s something nice you can do for yourself and others, and it’s not feeding into the toxic instant reply culture that we live in

-read a book or watch a show that gets you to connect with the characters, even if that means (I've said it before and I’ll say it again) rereading a favorite ya series or binging atla for the fiftieth time. It’s good for the soul.

-take a walk and smile at the people you see coming past. Again, it’s good for the soul. 

-go to the coffee shop and ask the barista to make you a drink that tastes like “_____” (insert whatever you want there. It could be a color, song, feeling, etc.) It’s weird and uncomfortable, but it gives you a conversation starter and 9.9 times out of 10 a really good drink. (Also helpful for when you think the barrista’s cute)

-Reading in general. It opens up so many new worlds with the turn of a page. 

16. Monitor your food intake. No, don’t restrict your food intake, monitor it. This means first seeing exactly what your putting in your body and altering it to gradually improve to a clean diet. Humans weren’t built to process all the preservatives, additives and sugars found in most processed food (cereals, chips, anything in a foil bag that’s either really sweet or really salty) and it’s important to cut down and if possible eliminate as much as you can of it out of your diet. Food is fuel, and you truly are what you eat. You’ll notice that by increasing your vegetable intake, reducing white processed sugars and carbs*, and cutting out sodas/extra sugars, that you’ll feel better. This isn’t a weight loss thing, but you may start to trim down a little bit once you go more intense with it. You don’t have to eliminate anything fully, and please enjoy your favorite “bad” foods! Everything in moderation is perfect! Just make sure that you’re getting the good stuff in there too! *Side note, do NOT cut out carbs! See my post on how I’m losing weight to get more into depth on this. 

17. Buy fresh flowers for yourself. Who says that you have to wait for someone else? That’s completely false, and you should totally treat yourself to a nice bouquet on occasion, especially in the dead of winter. 

18. The whole idea of self love is flawed. Loving yourself has nothing to do with the way you look. Loving yourself comes with genuinely loving your life. If you don't love the way you’re living, change it. Make and set goals. Fail at achieving those goals. Get back up and try again until you finally get it, but make sure that whatever you’re doing, you’re doing to love the life you live. Life doesn’t live you. You live life.

19. Have candles and incense. (Or a diffuser if you’re not allowed to burn stuff) Making your environment smell good makes a huge difference

20. Once you turn 18, get a tattoo. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Pick something small and get it behind your ear, on your ankle, wrist, fingers, whatever. You’ll love having the memory when your old. 

21. Realize your worth. We often put ourselves down because we think that valuing ourselves is equivalent to selfishness. It’s not. At all. You are just as important as everyone else. Your voice matters too. 

22. Go to art museums

23. Go to free concerts in the park

24. Expose yourself to new art, ideas, and literature

25. Life is gonna suck sometimes. It’s just how it is. That doesn’t mean a bad day’s gonna last forever. As cheesy as it is, keep your head up :)

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #321

i’m exploring the deepest recesses of tumblr to unearth super old surveys, so you can expect an onslaught of ‘em.

When someone is tailgating you, do you drive faster or slower? I drive the same speed, even though it makes me incredibly uncomfortable. What place outside of your own home do you spend the most time at? My sister's place. Have you ever been snorkeling? No. Do most of your relatives live in the same state/province as you? No; only my parents and immediate sisters live here. Have you ever participated in a medical study? No. Is there a food you hate that everyone else seems to like? Especially where I live, fried chicken. It's disgusting. Have you ever had to evacuate from a natural disaster? No. Do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? Numerous, actually. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have a driver's license, never mind anything else. What job does you significant other have? I’m single. When you were in elementary school, what was a typical afternoon like once you got home from school? I did my homework right away; well, after having a snack. After that, I was most likely on the computer playing Neopets or Webkinz, or something on the PlayStation. Is your favorite movie part of a series? Yes. Have you ever played in a water puddle? Sure, as a kid. I loved that. Have you ever played in a mud puddle? I don't think so. Have you ever kissed someone (outside) in the rain? Yes. He did it purely to be romantic, lol. Have you ever lost control of your car in the rain? No, thank fuck. Have you ever had to attend summer school? No. Have you ever experienced a summer where the temperature exceeded 120'F/49'C? Yikes, no, not that high. The highest we usually get is below 110. Do you live in a hot or cold (normally) climate? Hot. It sucks. Has your community ever had a “smog alert”? No. Have you ever raked leaves, and then played in them? Oh, absolutely as a kid. Dad would rake a pile just for us kids. Have they ever cancelled school because it was too hot? At least once, yes. Have you ever had to shovel snow? No. Have you ever experienced “cat’s breath”, where the wind was so powerful it took your breath away, literally? Yep, especially when I visited Sara and we went on a walk. It was fucking outrageous. Safe to say I didn't last long on that walk. Has your/or have you been in a car that was stuck in a snowstorm? No. What does your MySpace profile look like? I haven't seen it since that site was still "a thing." I do remember, however, that it was COVERED in meerkats, haha. Pictures, facts, etc. And my page song was "Pocketful of Sunshine" by Natasha Beddingfield lmao. Do you like living in the country or city better? Country, 100%. I'm not a city gal by any means. Do you have a big backyard? No, it's very small. Not used to that at all. What is your favorite Adam Sandler movie? I don't know, he's in too many to choose lmao. What was the last thing that surprised you? Apparently a rocket crashed today after launch. What color hair did your first crush have? Brown. Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building? No. I... didn't even know those existed lmao I feel dumb. Who was the last person that said something that warmed your heart? I'm not sure, but I'm quite certain my niece or nephew would be involved there, haha. What is your favorite park? I don't have one. Have you ever felt an earthquake? No. Do you believe anyone is asexual? ???????????? Yes???????????? Were you abused? No. Have you ever missed a deadline? Yeah. Can you tell Mary-Kate and Ashley apart in pictures? I haven't seen them in an eternity, idk. Describe your fondest memory: I don't really want to... but I'll entertain the question. It's hard to choose, and they just about all include Jason. I think what I hold closest though was our dance to "Stairway to Heaven" after prom in the headlights of his car in my front yard. It's something that physically hurts to remember. What song makes you cry every time you hear it? Let's set aside my "trigger songs" for this. "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade does it very easily. How often do you break your promises? I almost never do. I don't bullshit around with promises. I've only ever broken ones I'd forgotten I'd made, if my memory serves me right. How long do you take in the shower, on average? Not even 10 minutes. Do you have your MySpace/Facebook profile set to a "friends only" setting? Yes. Did your last kiss mean anything? Why or why not? Of course it did. I care very, very deeply for her. Are your summers usually boring and relaxing, or busy and interesting? "Summers are hot and miserable." <<<< mood Tell me a crazy thing you did as a child. I don't really think I did anything "crazy" as a child, just weird. Like pretending to be a father penguin arranging rocks to mock a nest. I was fuckin weird. How many best friends do you have? One. When you’re upset, who do you wanna talk to the most? Either Sara, Mom, or nobody. Opinion on Daughtry? They're nice. "No Surprise" is positively beautiful. Do you like country music? Noooooo. What’s been the most awkward situation you've been in? Okay, possible TMI. Basically, Jason's parents arrived home way, way earlier than they were supposed to and my panicky ass couldn't find my clothes quickly, and when I finally did, I had to dress as quickly as possible in his tiny-ass closet while he distracted his mom and dad lmfao. I'ma just say it was a very close call to me melting into a mortified puddle. I look back on it and laugh now, but the absolute, throbbing fear I felt was NOT funny back then lmfao. Don’t you love that feeling when you look at someone and you just melt? <3 That is genuinely one of the best feelings in the entire world. Do you prefer male or female singers? I have no preference. So what are you planning for this summer? Nothing, really... Who knows where the Covid situation will be then. What’s a good book? In general for absolutely anyone, Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. It is a book about pacifism that is so very deep and emotional. For women, I highly recommend The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. As a woman myself, the concept of the book is terrifying, to be reduced to reproduction machines without rights, so it's something you can really feel as a female. It's a book that definitely makes you want to fight for women's rights. Is it awkward for you when your parents talk to you about boys etc… No. I'm a grown woman. Now if she asked about my sex life (if I had one), I'd feel a bit weird, but not very. Do you like it when guys play with your hair? Yeah. Ever cried when you had to say goodbye to someone? Well of course. Over multiple people. Have your parents ever hated one of your boyfriends/girlfriends? No. Have you ever dreamt of someone you barely know? Indeed. Do you have a blood donor’s card? Yep. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? I had to before surgery. Has anyone seen you naked in the last week? No. What kind of doctor did you go to the last time you went? It was via phone, but I talked with my psychiatrist a few days ago. Does your ex still think about you? I'm sure Sara and Girt do, as they're my good friends, but idk if either think of me romantically. I would hope Jason at least remembers me with some degree of care in his heart... As for Juan, Aaron, and Tyler, idk if they do and I don't really care. What has been bothering you a lot lately? My weight. Are you trustworthy? I think so, yes. Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? Yeah, but it definitely depends on the situation. Which literary character would you dress up as, if you had to choose one? Speaking of The Handmaid's Tale, for Halloween one year, I really, really want to take some cool photos of me dressed as a handmaid with a (obviously fake) blood splatter over my stomach. What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? Being born with the mom I have, probably. I have no idea. None. Of where I'd be without her. Do you miss college? Sigh, sometimes... but I'm not going back. No chance. Dropping out three times due to my mental state hints at a clear pattern. Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? Yeah, accidentally. Except with my physical science teacher in HS that eventually became my "other mom" and most recently our landlord, even. I call her "Mama" sometimes. What was the name of your first imaginary friend? It was a wolf whose name I don't remember. What color was your nursery when you were a baby? No clue. What is your favorite arcade game? I desperately wanna go to a location that has Silent Hill: The Arcade. :/ That's on my bucket list. It's very rare. Are you allergic to grass? No. Do you remember to water plants? I don’t have any plants to water. What is your favorite fall drink? I don't drink any "fall" drinks. Favorite winter drink? Hot chocolate! Favorite spring drink? There are "spring" drinks? Favorite summer drink? Gimme a nice, cold margarita. Name three creative people you know. Sara, Tez, and Mini are some of the most creative people I've ever written with. Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. Mark in like a million different ways, I look up greatly to Jeffree Star's work ethic (say what you will about him personally, but holy shit does mama WORK), and Emzotic for her incredible growth after trauma that's left her more confident than ever, and she's amazing with animals and just a darling overall. Does anyone know who your current crush is? Yeah, I'm pretty open about it. Have you ever been scammed? Not successfully, no. Which song describes your life? I relate to "Get Up" by Mother Mother a lot at this point in my life. If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason? Probably because I open up so slowly/am very secretive of myself when someone might be trying to get close. People have also criticized my laziness. Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with? YouTube. At least I think Tez was the last person I gave my number to. Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? Hunter, my neighbor growing up. Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? My therapist. I had to leave group due to severe abdominal cramping. It was just my period, but he just wanted to check. What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine? Probably a soda back when I was still in school. Has anyone given you butterflies recently? Actually yeah; I had a memory of Sara that caused 'em to revisit me. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? I'm going to exclude my puppy-dog crush (Dylan) and talk about my first "real" crush, Sebastian. I liked him because we had very similar interests, he was really friendly, nice, and funny, and he clearly trusted me a lot because he actually confided in me regarding the relationship he was in that was struggling and causing him a lot of pain. I thought he was attractive, too. Ngl, I wonder sometimes where we could have gone if he hadn't been dating the girl, because I'm 90% sure he was into me, too. In current times, he very recently got engaged! Super happy for him. Which parent do you identify with the most? My ma. What do you think you cook or bake the best? Scrambled eggs, I guess. That's just about all I CAN make, haha. My family likes 'em. I always use American cheese, salt, pepper, and a bit of hot sauce. What embarrasses you the most in front of other people? Admitting I RP. If you had to choose one thing you were most passionate about, what would it be and why? Of actually important things, gay rights. If we're talkin' passionate about anything, then the answer's meerkats, duh. Who are you most envious of—real or fictional—and why? A rival photographer that lives here. I absolutely hate admitting that, but yeah, I'm extremely envious of her. She gets way more traffic than I do by a long shot, even though I, from a completely modest and honest standpoint, genuinely think I do better work than her. It's just frustrating. All about who you know in this business. How old is the most expired item in your fridge? Supposedly our milk expired on the 1st, but it smells just fine? And mind you, I am very cautious with expiration dates, and I've found milk typically starts to smell bad a few days earlier than the date to me. This jug is an outlier. What are your favorite style of underwear? I'm a fat old lady that likes high-waisted underwear. What’s the saddest song you’ve ever heard? Maybe "The Ballad of Dwight Fry" by Alice Cooper. I could name tons, though. How about the sweetest song? Maybe "Easy to Love You" by Theory of a Deadman. Another song I struggle to listen to because it was one of mine and Jason's "songs." Do you know how to play dominoes? No. Are you proud of what you’re doing with your heart and time right now? Not in the least. Why or why not? I'm just wasting time. Doing nothing with true meaning, and I seem unable to get over this low point I'm in. How many bones have you broken? One. Well, I was told "fractured," but apparently that's the same thing as broken? Have you ever won anything? Big or small? Yeah, multiple things. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Animals like cats or dogs. Pets, basically. I would feel WAY too weird. Has anything/anyone every saved your life before? Yes. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try? If I'm embarrassed by it, why would I share it with whoever reads these? What is the most important memory you have and why? When I decided it was truly time to move on from Jason. Why that's my most important is obvious: it changed my mindset and life in general. Is there something you wish you had said sorry for but never did? God, I hope Jason read my apology email I last sent him. I finally accepted I did wrong, too, and I want to know that he knows that. Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My youngest niece's first birthday was mid-February. What’s a musical instrument you think sounds really beautiful? The violin. Do you play that instrument? I wish I could. Do you have a favorite type of pasta? (like a shape of noodles, not dish) Just spaghetti noodles, ig. How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once. Who sent the last e-mail you got? My PHP therapist sent me the Zoom link to our group session. Do you have a favorite shape? Out of basic ones, circles. What’s the last song you bought/downloaded? I don't recall. Probably something by 3TEETH. Have you ever been on a trapeze? Hell nah. Do you buy chocolate after Valentine’s Day when it goes on sale? No. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? I met a poet at the psych hospital once. I also have an old friend who had something published in a magazine, I think. Do you own a polaroid camera? No, but I'd love to to take more ~aesthetic~ photographs sometimes. What is something you think is underrated? Snakes! :( They're not scary or gross, nor do they in any way deserve to be killed. I wish the worth of snakes was seen much more clearly. They are spectacular, intriguing animals. Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? Once it hits like 65*F, I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? I hope beyond hope that I have a job I enjoy. And that I'm driving again. What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? I used to loooove video editing, but I've lost all motivation for it. Do you have any exercise equipment in your home? Somewhere we have this one stretchy thing that I have no idea what it's called, then there are two sets of small weights somewhere. Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? New York. Farthest south? Florida. East? Well, ya can't go more east in NC unless you want to drive into the ocean... lol. West? Illinois. If you have/want children, will you raise them similar to the way you were raised? If I had kids, I would in some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no. Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? Nothing strange, no. What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? I don't know. Not very high. Do you have an ebook reader? (iPad, Kindle, etc.) No. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? 2017, ig. What is the last random act of kindness you did? I guess you could consider a loving text to Sara a random act of kindness?

[sandersstudies]

Quirky - Chapter 7

A High School Superhero AU - Sanders Sides

(Will add tag list in a reblog! If I miss you, please let me know ASAP - As always, asks, comments, messages, reblogs, and keysmashes are more than welcome.)

Attention: This chapter has some mild sensitive content. Warnings in tags!

Chapter Six

Chapter Five

Chapter Four

Chapter Three

Chapter Two

Chapter One

You can now also find the fic with the same username and title on AO3 :) Feel free to stop by and leave kudos!

***

Roman wasn’t used to shrinking down into his shoulders, but found himself doing it as he walked from the school to the street. He took quick glances toward the road, watching for the car his mother had promised to send. Rafaela, Kenny, and Kai passed, with Rafaela swinging into her mom’s car and the boys climbing onto the school bus. If there was anyone Roman didn’t want to see him, it was those three. Oh, and maybe Patton and his mind-hearing quirk.

The white Subaru he’d been waiting for pulled up, and Roman exchanged the family code phrase with the driver before he slid inside and the car pulled away. Private drivers were just one advantage of having ex-hero parents. Roman leaned against the window and caught a glimpse of Virgil and Logan walking in the same direction. Those two had certainly become real buddies, now. He supposed it came with being weak-quirked.

But then again, Roman remembered, maybe Virgil wasn’t weak-quirked. Roman still wasn’t sure what had happened to that beam in the Ruins Zone, but it didn’t seem like the work of somebody like Virgil. What was next, Logan blowing up a building? Roman was tempted to force a laugh when one didn’t rise naturally. He hadn’t been laughing much lately. Virgil’s weird little stunt today hadn’t helped. Roman’s mind had raced through the scene a dozen times unbidden. The feeling of his knuckles slamming against the wall (two of his fingers had scraped and bled). The harsh light overhead, blocked by the heavy shadows of the ruins. The groaning that had become a roar over his head, and the dark shadow over him vanishing as the beam flew away. Turning to see Virgil. “Shut up, lightbulb.” It was interesting. Roman hadn’t seen Virgil bristle quite so much before. For a second, he could actually imagine the pipsqueak passing the entrance exam with that kind of annoying spunk.

Roman felt warm with anger, and squashed the feeling down his throat. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He began counting street lights, and got to twenty-four before the car pulled into the parking lot of West Izuku Hospital.

“Thanks,” he said as he got out.

“Would you like me to wait for you, Mr. Lightflight?” the driver asked.

“No, that’s okay, thanks. I’ll call in a bit.”

Roman felt himself shrinking again as he walked through the revolving door of the hospital and up to the receptionist’s desk. The secretary was the same woman who’d greeted him yesterday, and she double-checked the room number for him before he thanked her and walked toward the elevators.

When the doors opened, a doctor and nurse got off before Roman got on. As he did so, someone shouted, “hold the elevator!” from somewhere behind him, and he turned to press his hand against the sliding door. A middle-aged woman with a load of balloons skittered inside, the bumbling balloons making dull bonking noises as their bloated bodies bent against the door and one another. Once the woman was inside, the balloons took up most of the elevator, and Roman was struck by the sudden image of the elevator ascending through the hospital ceiling and floating away with the power of helium.

“Thank you, young man,” the woman said. “Could you press floor three, please?”

Roman obliged, also pressing the button for the fifth floor.

“Sorry about the balloons,” the woman said. “My sister just had twins, a boy and a girl, so I just had to pick up balloons for both of them.” The mass of pink and blue seemed self-explanatory to Roman, but he hummed in understanding, and the woman took it as a cue to go on. “My sister just loves balloons. Usually I bring flowers when there’s a new baby, but I thought she’d like this better. Who are you visiting today?” Before Roman could answer, the elevator chimed and the woman clucked. “Oh, this is my stop. Have a nice day!” The balloons squeezed and complained squeakily again as she got off, but finally gave in and popped out of the door to follow her down the hallway of the maternity ward. No one else got on, and Roman rode alone to floor five.

“It’s Roman, isn’t it?” one of the nurses at yet another desk said as he got off the elevator. Roman didn’t like the dripping sympathy in her voice, but he nodded.

“Your dad’s awake now, I’m sure he’ll be very happy to see you.” She smiled with only her lips. “Would you like me to show you the way again?”

“I can find it myself,” Roman said. “Thanks, though.”

“Just let us know if you need anything.”

Roman hummed another response and hurried down the hallway. He counted floor tiles for an excuse to look at his feet, only glancing up to keep track of room numbers. He reached thirty-two tiles, because 519 was at the end of the hall. He knocked on the doorframe before entering.

The Flying Falcon peered up from behind a newspaper. He’d been reduced to his civilian state, wearing a pair of reading glasses and a hospital gown. All his hospital paperwork, of course, had listed him as Joseph Martin.

“Hey, son,” he said, extending one splinted hand toward a seat near his bed. “The nurses told me you came by before school this morning, sorry for sleeping in.”

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Roman said, standing just inside the door. His eyes were drawn to his fathers’ chest, now covered by a hospital gown.

“Come on and sit,” Roman’s father insisted.

Roman sunk into the seat. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, don’t worry about it.” He waved his un-splinted hand dismissively. “Did Mamá tell you what the doctors said? A sprained wrist, and two fractured ribs that-”

“Punctured the lung,” Roman finished. “I heard.”

“That was some car accident,” he went on, shuffling the pages of his newspaper. “I think I’m very lucky.”

“Right,” Roman said.

***

Rafaela, Kenny, and Kai had completely vanished by the time Roman raced down the alley after them, police sirens still ringing in his ears. He didn’t remember much of his sprint home, only arriving at the front door and fumbling for his key to let himself in. He opened the door and drew it closed silently behind him. His chest was heaving, and he felt like someone had wrapped their first around his esophagus. He started for the stairs when he realized there was a light shining from under his parents’ bedroom door. There was a hushed voice speaking upstairs.

Roman swallowed. Maybe if he was quiet, he could sneak up the stairs and into his room before his mother even realized he’d been gone. He took two steps upward in silence, and took the third with more confidence, only to have it squeal under his weight. He froze.

“One minute, please,” he heard. There was a shuffle before the door of his parents’ room swung open and his mother’s face peered out.

“Eres tu, mi principito?” she asked. She rubbed one eye. Both were red, but there were no tears on her cheeks. “What are you doing up so late, sweetheart?”

“Sorry for waking you up, Mamá,” he muttered. His mouth was dry. “I was just getting some water.”

“You’re sweating,” his mother said, setting down her phone and walking down the stairs. “Do you feel sick?” She pressed her palm against his forehead.

“I feel fine.”

She gently cupped his face. “Hey, honey, I have something to tell you, okay?”

Roman couldn’t make eye contact, so he stared past her ear. “What?”

“Your father was in an accident on his drive back from the university,” she said. “He’s gonna be okay, but I’m going to go to the emergency room to see him.”

“I’m coming too.”

“Oh, honey, you know I want you to, but if you’re not feeling well-” She touched his forehead again.

“I’m okay.”

She paused for a moment and blinked softly at him. “Okay. Take my keys and start the car. I’m going to wrap up this phone call and be right out.”

“Is Dad on the phone?”

“It’s our old agent from hero work,” she said, starting up the stairs. “Lola, you remember her?”

“Calling about a car accident?” Roman said, sudden anger rising in him.Was this agent lying to his mother, or was his mother lying to him?

“They...monitor these things, honey,” the one-time Lady Lightbringer said without turning around. “It’ll be okay, I’ll be right out.”

***

“Mamá told me that Lola Brown called,” Roman said.

“That’s right,” his father said, staring down at the newspaper. “Very nice of her. You see this here?” He held up the paper. There was a photo of Multi-Man, an old one from the height of his hero career, and a headline about his arrest.

“Yeah, everybody at school is talking about it,” Roman said.

Joseph nodded and sucked his lip. “He was a really good man,” he said. “Interned at my agency when he wasn’t much older than you. Very bright kid, really dedicated to hero work. Can’t imagine what happened.”

“What did happen?” Roman asked, feeling anger in his stomach again. “What did he do?”

His father chuckled. “It’s all hearsay, of course,” he said. “Some kind of attack outside city hall. If I hadn’t been in that car accident maybe I’d have trotted up there myself!” He laughed, and his hand flew to his side. “Ah, this is just another sign it’s time for me to leave hero work in the past. I’m getting to be too old.”

“You’re not old, Dad,” Roman said, trying to sound cheerful.

“Not too old yet,” Joseph admitted. “Still too young to like being cooped up in here. They say it’ll be another couple days before this thing can come out.” He prodded the tube that was snaking out of the sleeve of his hospital gown.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said. “Did Mamá visit today?”

“She dropped by and brought lunch,” he responded. “I’m not much of a fan of hospital food.”

“She didn’t really tell me much about the accident,” Roman said cautiously. “What happened?”

Joseph paused and rustled the pages of his newspaper. “Gee, I...well you know what, I barely remember it. One of those funny things that happens, I suppose.” He tapped his forehead. “Doctors say I was lucky to have no concussion. But tell me about school, Ro,” he said, swerving from the topic. “I missed your first week, how’s it been?”

“Well, you heard about Mr. Sanders,” Roman said. Joseph smiled sympathetically. Roman went on. “A bunch of the students were really upset, and all.”

“Does ‘a bunch of students’ include one named Roman Lightflight?”

Roman shrugged. “Trying to focus on studying, I guess.”

Joseph grinned. “Just like your mom,” he said. “My very first semester at UA, I remember she was top of the class. Everybody, even the teachers, started saying, ‘that Ximena Alcérreca, she’s the one to beat!’ I miss the old place, every once in a while.”

Roman faked a smile of pride at the comparison to his mother, but wilted internally, knowing that the praise was given unfairly. He couldn’t remember a single thing Mr. Picani had said in literature all week. Had he even had a pencil out for biology?

“Do they still set you right to work with training?” his father asked.

“We did a bomb exercise,” Roman said. “Heroes against villains. I was a hero.”

“Well, that wasn’t just for the exercise,” Joseph said. “Did you win?”

“...Yeah.”

“That’s good! That’s great! I’m sure your classmates were blown away!” His eyes had lit up (less literally than Roman’s often did), and Roman wondered if his father was remembering his own time at UA. “Mamá said your class had a field trip to USJ today, how was that?”

Roman saw Virgil, cheeks flushed with anger and purple hair bristling and hazel eyes flashing, illuminated a moment in his head. He shifted to hide his scratched hand behind him. “It was okay.”

“Your class had fun?”

Roman swallowed. “Yeah, well, it’s nice having some kids from middle school there.”

“I’d hope so,” Joseph said. “It’s the best prep school in the area. Rafaela and Kai and….Kenny, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Going to ditch your old man today to hang out with your pals, then?”

“No,” Roman said, a little too sharply. Joseph paused.

“Been a falling out?” he asked.

Roman shrugged.

“It happens,” Joseph insisted, shifting his weight in the hospital bed so he could reach Roman’s shoulder. “When a group of people move to a new stage in life, like high school, sometimes they start to go their separate ways,” he said. “It’s not a bad thing. Sometimes it makes you realize who your real friends are.”

Roman stifled the pain in the center of his chest. “It’s just tough,” he said. He straightened his shoulders. “But I’m gonna do it, Dad. I’m going to graduate and be a hero and everything.”

“Well, don’t underestimate the power of having friends by your side,” his father responded. “Being a hero doesn’t always mean going it alone.” One of his hands wandered vaguely to his chest and rested over where his broken ribs were. He seemed to suddenly come to himself and spoke again. “Any new friends, then?”

“Not really,” Roman admitted. “Well, there’s this one kid…”

His father didn’t fill the gap.

“There’s this other kid who got in on recommendation,” Roman said. “Patton something.”

“Nice kid?”

“I guess so.”

“Powerful quirk, I’ll bet.”

There was a pause. “I think I’m gonna get going, Dad,” Roman said, standing up and shouldering his backpack. “I want to get home and...study.”

Joseph looked taken aback only a moment, and then nodded vigorously. “Exactly what I like to hear,” he said. “Well, give your old man a hug and I’ll let you head out. Probably gets pretty stuffy sitting too long in a hospital, huh?”

Roman reached in for a hug, awkward from his father’s angle. “I’m really glad you’re doing okay.”

“Well, no car accident is going to knock down the Flying Falcon, is it?” Joseph Martin asked triumphantly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

Roman made a point not to make eye contact with the nurses as he shuffled into the elevator. As he descended, he made a brief call to his driver. The elevator picked up two men from the fourth floor and then sunk to the first. Roman’s phone buzzed cheerily with a text message as he stepped off.

Rafaela. Hey dude I know stuff is weird but whatevers going on w your dad i hope everythings ok

He swiped to dismiss the text and started to put his phone in his pocket. It buzzed again and Roman felt a crinkle of anger in his cheeks before he saw the word “Mamá” on the screen.

Know you’re probably still at the hospital, have to head out for a little while and might be hard to get a hold of. Contact Lola if there’s an emergency. Pizza in the freezer for you. <3

<3 U, Roman replied. His ride arrived quickly, and Roman drummed his fingers against the side of the car as he climbed in.

“Back home, Mr. Lightflight?” the driver said, already turning in that direction.

“Take me to city hall, first.”

***

Roman had watched his mother’s face from the first moment they entered the emergency room (which was calmer than he’d expected). The one-time top hero was not one to show her vulnerability. But Roman had felt her grip a little too light on his arm, had heard her voice a little too high, had seen her leg bounce with anxious waiting. They had entered the place where the Flying Falcon was flightless on the gurney, chest half-exposed to reveal bruises and a small tube protruding from his chest. It was only for a moment when, as she held her husband’s hand, Roman had seen the fire of Lady Lightbringer in the tears suspended in her amber eyes but not falling. When she had stood to touch Roman’s shoulder, she was strengthened instead of wavering, and for a moment Roman had been afraid of his own mother.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Doing the Right Thing

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2,535

Warnings: all angst, killing oneself but not because of depression, major character death

Summary: As the Apocalypse goes on, all you can do is try and survive. But then you get bit, and now you need to think about Sam and Dean instead of yourself.

Squared Filled: Apocalypse // Hiding an injury // Campfire // Getting shot

Fandom: Supernatural

Author’s Note: This is for @heavenandhellbingo and @badthingshappenbingo and @spndeanbingo and @spnclassicbingo respectively and this is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

“Isn’t it not the best idea to split up?” you asked as you got into town. People infected with the Croatoan virus, or Croats, were roaming around looking for their next meal. There were three things you needed from town: medicine, food, and weapons. There were three of you, so Dean thought it would be best to split up so that everything goes by faster, and you could get to base camp sooner.

Before making it to town, Dean had found the perfect campground which was too far from any Croats to find. As long as you get the stuff you need, then you should be fine for the next few weeks. There was a freshwater lake next to the campgrounds which is where you’ll be getting your water from now on. When you thought about the Apocalypse, you didn't think the Croatoan virus was the way to end all things. You thought angels and demons would at least have something to do with it, but no, it was something way worse.

At least with demons and angels, you can still survive if they’re inside you.

“Look, we need three kinds of supplies and there are three of us. It’s easier to just split up instead of giving the Croats time to find us. Just go in, get what you need, and meet back at the checkpoint. Everyone clear on what they’re supposed to be doing?” Dean asked as he took charge. There were no humans that could be saved from an incurable disease so you three weren't hunters anymore. The only thing you’ll hunt is Croats, and you’ll hunt them until the day you die. Purifying the world of these people is the only thing you can do to save it. As long as there are two people on Earth, they can rebuild to make this a better place.

“Fine,” you sighed as you three split off to grab what you were assigned. The pharmacy was only a few stores down, so you got there pretty quickly to get the medicine and other supplies you might need for a few weeks. Then, when those run out, you would have to make another run and then another run and then fifty more runs until you can’t run anymore.

The streets were quiet, and you did your best to carefully enter the pharmacy without getting the attention of the Croats. The pharmacy was trashed, but you were easily able to maneuver through the aisles until you found what you were looking for. The gun you always carried was strapped to your hip just in case you came into contact with a Croat and needed to kill them to survive.

Grabbing the medicine you needed, you packed your backpack before going over to the feminine hygiene section and stocking up on tampons, razors, toothbrushes, and toothpaste. Everything you considered to be valuable, you took and packed it away in the very big and sturdy backpack you stole from some sporting goods store. This was the endgame now, and it was each man for himself. If you saw something you needed, you damn well made sure you got that item.

Sam and Dean counted on you to get everything, especially Dean. When the world went to shit, he leaned on you more than usual. He depended on you to make him feel human and depended on his brother to make him feel sane. Without you, the system would go to shit, as it would if Sam or Dean were to be gone. Dean had been your rock for most things even before the apocalypse which is why it made sense to date him. He had been a pretty fantastic friend, but he was even a better boyfriend.

Grabbing the last thing on your list, you were pretty proud of yourself for keeping quiet this whole time until you tripped over a child’s toy in the aisle and knocked over an entire shelf. The noise was so loud that you thought that someone from the other side of the world could hear it. Freezing in your spot, you held your breath as you listened for any kind of scuttle or movement that would indicate Croats heading your way. The place was dead quiet except for the echo of the fall, and you made the conscious decision to escape the place.

Stepping into plain view of anyone who could be watching, you headed for the door when you were tackled by a person. Your backpack skidded across the floor as a Croat snarled, trying to sink his teeth into your skin. The Croat smelled of death as his skin rotted, and he leaned down to get a bite, but you held him at arm’s length to keep his mouth away from you. The closer he got, the more you noticed he was bleeding from his cheek, and it was a pretty big cut too. If any of his blood were to get inside your body, then it was game over for you.

Kicking the Croat where the sun don’t shine, the most amount of damage it did was able to throw him off you while you reached for your gun. The Croat was easily able to shake off the attack before running at you. Extending your arm to shoot at him, he flung his arms wildly, knocking the gun out of your hand. Kicking at his knee, you hoped it would at least get him down, which it did, but he managed to scratch you with his long and jagged nails.

Crying out in pain, you tried to ignore the sting while you ran for your gun which was by your backpack. The Croat got up before pouncing on your back, and you caught yourself wishing you fought harder to stay together. This Croat was hell-bent on either turning you or killing you, and since you were kind of rusty from not hunting, it was getting harder to get away from him. The Croat noticed your open wound, and he twisted your arm back before letting his own blood drop into your wound.

“No!” you yelled as you found that last ounce of strength in you to subdue him. While the Croat was down, you grabbed your gun and shot him multiple times in the head before you were certain he was dead. Letting out a shaky breath, you looked at your wound that you knew was tainted with the poison. Even though it was painless, you felt the virus slowly spreading through your body. It was only a matter of time before you were killing Sam and Dean, and the only cure for the Croatoan virus was to kill the host that had it. Sam and Dean would have to kill you sooner rather than later before you ended up killing one of them.

The virus took about three to four hours to finally take effect, so you had some time before you had to tell them the heartbreaking news. Untying your jacket from your waist, you put it on to hide the bite on your arm. Grabbing your backpack, you slung it over your shoulder before leaving the store. Maybe you should have dumped the feminine products and grabbed some more medicine since you wouldn’t need them anymore, but then the brothers would become suspicious since you complained about running out of tampons a few days ago.

Approaching the meeting point, you saw the brothers talking lowly. When they heard a twig snap, they both whipped out their guns before noticing it was you. Dean could see the tiredness in your eyes, but then again, you three were always tired so he didn’t really worry too much about it.

“You okay? You’re usually here first,” Dean commented.

“Yeah. I had to kill a Croat, but I’m fine. He’s dead and I got the medicine and other supplies,” you said as you motioned to your backpack. The brothers nodded before the trek back to the campsite started. It was far since you didn’t want the Croats finding out where you three were staying, so you grew tired from walking the long distance. The virus was spreading fast, and you knew you would be very tired before gaining extreme strength and speed.

The brothers were taking the lead and chatting, so it gave you a chance to admire the way they were since you wouldn’t be around to enjoy it much more. There was the option of just leaving the brothers to let the virus take over, but you would rather die than become one of them.

“You sure you’re okay? You’re awfully quiet back there,” Dean commented as he brought you closer to him and Sam as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t realize this walk would be so long,” you chuckled.

“When we get back, we can cook some of the beans I found. There was a lot of peanuts and food that have a long shelf life, so I grabbed as much as I could with that,” Sam said as he reached the site you three had to call home. There was the option of going back to the Bunker, but even that wasn’t safe anymore. The virus started around Lebanon so the Bunker was right in the middle of Croat territory. It was much safer just to keep moving.

“Good, I’m starving,” you chuckled humorlessly. Dean knew there was something wrong with you, but he didn’t want to voice what he was dreading. Maybe if he didn't say it, then it wouldn’t be true and you would be alright. Since the trek back to camp was about an hour, you only had three until you would be too strong to kill. Your time was running out. By the time you got back to camp, it was already getting dark so Dean started a small fire while Sam took the supplies and began organizing them to reduce the amount of clutter in the backpacks.

“You sure you’re okay sweetheart?” Dean asked with worry in his eyes. Seeing the concern there, it scared you into being quiet so the only thing you could do was nod silently. Dean sighed as he got the fire going, and he took a seat while Sam started cooking something simple. It was good to have fire knowledge and basic survival skills because this was your life—well their life. Your life was running out and fast.

Your breathing picked up to short gasps, and your eyes were starting to become red where it would be white. Your fingers were itching to destroy anything, something only the virus was giving to you. Croats were inherently violent, and it was only a matter of time before you were destroying this campsite or trying to infect Sam and Dean. Sam was safe, you knew this, because of the demon blood, but Dean was fair game. It wouldn’t be fair to them if you took yourself and Dean away from Sam, so you knew you had to say something.

“Guys?” you asked in a small voice, almost as if you were scared they would be mad at you for getting infected. Both brothers stopped chatting to look at you with concerned looks.

“Whoa, you don’t look too good,” Sam said when he noticed your bloodshot eyes and how sunken they looked.

“Don’t say it,” Dean whispered, already knowing what you were going to say.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried as you took off your jacket to show them your wound. It was more purple and red than before, but that was only the virus doing its job.

“What—Are you infected?” Sam asked.

“He came up by surprise and I was a little rusty. He got me before I could get to him. I only have a few hours before I become feral. I only have a short time before I don’t know between right and wrong. I can feel myself slipping,” you cried.

“No, we can fix this. We got medicine,” Dean panicked as he got up to go to the fresh stash.

“It won’t work,” Sam said solemnly.

“No! There has to be something we can do!” Dean yelled.

“There is something you can do,” you sighed as you took out your gun.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Dean asked when he figured out what you really meant.

“I don’t want to be one of them. I don’t want to be the thing you two hunt. You have to kill me now before I turn completely and try to kill you,” you sniffled as you wiped your nose.

“No,” Dean whimpered as his knees buckled.

“I can’t believe this,” Sam said as tears left his eyes. Dean had tears as well, but they refused to fall on their terms.

“Please, you have to kill me.”

“I can’t do it,” Dean sighed. Getting up from your spot, you approached the older brother while keeping your wound away from his.

“Dean Winchester, it has been my honor to be your girlfriend and friend. I wish things could have been different, but I can’t change what happened. I pray to God that this virus goes away so that you two can live out the rest of your long lives. Sam, you’ve been my best friend through it all, and I hate to leave you like this. I didn’t want your last memory of me to be this… thing. I love you both so much, but I have to go now or else it’ll be too late. I have to go now while I still have my humanity,” you cried as you began to cough up blood into your hand.

“I can’t do it,” Dean whispered as he finally let the tears fall.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to look away because I’ll do it. I’ll do it in the water so that I’ll drown and the fish can have me. I don’t want my body to be here as a reminder. I don’t have much time left, I have to do it now.”

“No,” Dean whimpered.

“I love you so much,” you cried as you kissed his cheek with chapped lips. Sam was crying when you gave him his kiss, and you gripped your favorite gun as you walked away from them. Dean’s natural instinct was to go to you, but Sam held him back and made sure they both weren't looking. They knew you needed to do this, and they knew you needed to do it now whether they liked it or not.

Dean stared at the ground as he waited to hear the final shot, the shot which would tell him you would no longer be in his life. The waiting was torture, and both brothers stayed silent in anticipation.

One.

Two.

Three.

Dean flinched as tears cascaded down his cheeks when he heard the gun go off. Sam held his brother’s shoulders as a sign of comfort when they heard a splash indicating you had fallen in the water. It took everything in Dean not to follow in your footsteps, but he couldn’t leave his baby brother all alone.

You wouldn't have wanted that.

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[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 50

The past week has been an abominably wild ride. I’m in the U.S, and we have had entirely too many shooting recently.  Add to that the fact that our election season is starting to ramp up, and the vitriol is spewing at work.  I’m a very opinionated person when it comes to politics and human rights (this really shouldn’t be a surprise if you’ve followed this far), and I try to keep the majority of it out of this story and off this blog.  That said, I’m down for some discourse if any of you want to message me.

Moving to the actual story: This chapter gives a bit of insight into where the story is going next, plus some of the background stuff I always have cluttering up my head.  It always gives me good material to show the different personalities and skill sets of the main and secondary characters.  Overall, I really like how this chapter turned out.

And don’t worry - that difficult conversation is coming very soon.

I managed to compose myself by the time the men came into my sister’s public room, but only just.  I hardly noticed the jostling on the couch as Tyche refused to move from my side and allow Maverick and Conor to sandwich me in between them like usual.  She elbowed me to get my attention, and only then did I realize that she was still sitting next to me. Maverick on my other side, with Conor on the floor leaning against mine and Maverick’s legs.

Antoine looked so amused at the situation, I thought he might explode. When I arched an eyebrow at him, he just shook his head and settled into the one perfectly empty chair.  “So, the festival?” he ventured.

Thank you for the safe ground, I thought before responding. “Overall, huge success.  I still have to debrief with Alistair tomorrow, but preliminary reports are pretty good.  There was a minor kerfluffle with a vendor before everything got set up, but we got that resolved pretty tidily.  I think so, at least.”

Tyche shook her head. “I don’t recall any vendor issues.”

“Exactly,” I pointed out. “Originally, there was going to be a location that specialized in a certain pork product, and Alistair caught it when the vendor wanted to be stationed where the Jainist cuisine ended up being.”

“But that was between….” Maverick trailed off, horrified. Conor’s shoulders shook with laughter, resulting in getting a swat on both shoulders – one from the pilot, one from my sister.  “Dude, it’s not funny!  That’s just deliberately being rude.  You don’t put pork between two groups who have religious prohibitions against it!”

Conor held his hands up in surrender. “I’m laughing at the tongue-lashing our Sophie probably gave the poor sod, I swear!”

“Actually, I didn’t.” Four heads turned to stare at me in disbelief. “Seriously. It was so much worse than you’re thinking, but I managed not to chew anyone out… much.  Remember all the gourmet bacon that was everywhere at the festival?  That was the guy.  For whatever reason, the vendor and Simon thought there was nothing wrong with having a bacon-themed stall.”

“At the same event that was intended to help everyone recover from the attack on the ship by a certain terrorist group?” Antoine asked quietly, in a tone that I had learned meant he was boiling mad.

“Yep,” I popped the last consonant in emphasis.  “I called him, pointed out how tasteless it was, and we decided instead to let the other alcoves feature the wares. To his credit, it never even crossed his mind that it was a bad idea. He was focused on the flavor list, and the vendor was focused on showing off like everyone else was.”

He nodded thoughtfully as my sister spoke. “So, the bacon gets out there, in the best possible way, without anyone being distracted by the connotation.”

“Pretty much. And, honestly? I think that particular vendor got better coverage than anyone else at the event… that stuff was everywhere.  Maple and bacon donuts, chocolates with candied bacon, on burgers, wrapped around seafood, you name it.”

“And that was the only vendor issue?” she asked.

I nodded, before switching gears. “Now, I want to hear about the low-stim portion of the event.  I have the official reports from everyone, and Alistair is going to give the highlights tomorrow, but I want to get an idea from you three how it plays against the regular session.”  Automatically, I started playing with Conor’s hair, just because it was by my hand. I had no idea how many times I had done that in the past, but I was very conscious of it right now.

Maverick spoke up, snapping me out of my distracted thoughts. “Well, it was a lot calmer, better lit, pretty much as intended.  With a very few exceptions, the vendors were much more relaxed during the low-stimulus session, too. I think that had a positive impact on the attendees, since they felt less like a bother.”

“There was definitely less resistance from the vendors in regards to food preferences in the earlier portion,” Antoine added.  “In the first session, when presented with a list of foods that were not an option, they largely cooperated. However, when we went back, this dropped by an estimated thirty percent.”

“That’s disappointing,” I muttered.

Maverick reached over to squeeze my hand gently. “Hey, on the plus side, the Japanese vendor kept the natto covered the entire time.”

“That was surprisingly popular,” my sister pointed out.  “Probably the novelty, from what you two told me about it. We may need to be on the lookout for natto-eating challenges in the near future.”

I shook with revulsion before composing myself. “To be fair, there are people who do actually like it, and it’s supposed to be very nutritious.  Don’t let our bias stop you from trying it. Just… please don’t do it when either of us is around?”

Conor took that chance to jump into the conversation. “Any of the typical disturbances you would see from a big event like that? Fights, drunk and disorderlies, that kind of thing?”

“I haven’t heard anything,” I responded cautiously. “And the alcohol was limited to two drinks per attendee, non-transferable.  Even at The Undine, the drinks were low or no content after each person had their allotment.  Xiomara will have the exact data, though.”

“Oh!” Tyche grabbed my arm for attention. “The quiet rooms? Huge success. I ducked in several of them both times I was there, and even toward the end of the festival, people were really respectful of them. Any groups were small, and they kept their voices at a whisper or a very low – “ She waved her hand at the word she was looking for. “Mutter. Not mutter. The other one. But that, yeah.”

Antoine chuckled at her excitement. “Yes, the attendees were keeping the noise to a minimum, as she says. It felt very much like walking into a library. You may receive some requests to keep the rooms in place, Sophia.”

Regretfully, I shook my head.  “I wish we could, but the majority of the space we used for the festival was only loaned to us by people who actually live there.  If those people want to keep the rooms as they are, they are more than welcome to the free re-decorating, but those are still private residences.  In fact, most of the people have already moved back in.” A collective groan came from everyone in the room, Conor going so far as to bury his face in my knee out of disappointment. “The best I can do is offer the design plans freely to everyone on the Ark, and I can talk to the Council about the demand for spaces like that. Maybe we can set up a few small libraries or botanical gardens throughout the ship, if Miys is okay with it.”

“I think the botanical gardens will go over well,” Conor offered, glancing up. “Noah is fond of air-cleaning plants, it turns out.  Calls them little trooplings.”  When Maverick furrowed his brows so hard it looked like it hurt, our resident pseudo-botanist clarified. “Hujylsogox are mycogenetic, which means they evolved from fungus-like lifeforms.  Mushrooms grow in colonies, clusters, and troops.  The word’s probably not the same, but the closest the translators can get to the concept of a baby Hujylsogox is ‘troopling’.”

“But why would Miys compare plants to baby-thems?” Maverick asked, glancing around for explanation.  Tyche, Antoine, and I just stared at Conor, waiting for an explanation.

With a sigh, he continued. “Noah – or Miys – absorbs nutrients and sustenance from the air, constantly.  It has to be supplemented with rations, sure, but it’s a function they can’t control.  Miys jokes about not having a sense of smell, but they can definitely tell how clean the air is, and they’re sensitive to caustic fumes.”

“Just like the plants,” Tyche ventured.

He nodded. “It’s really similar. The plants are a bit less sensitive to things like fumes from spicy foods, though.”  Tyche and I flushed at the reminder of the time we ran Miys out of my quarters while making dinner.  Antoine smiled, but Conor roared with laughter and told the story to Maverick.

When he finished, Tyche jumped in. “In our defense, we didn’t know the smell of the chili sauce reducing would give Noah actual burns.  The fumes or vapor, or whatever you want to call it, had run a couple people off, but Noah told us before that they don’t have noses, so it never occurred to us that it would be a problem.”

“Nothing in what you just said argues against the fact that you two were deliberately cooking and eating something so spicy that people ran away and one needed treatment for burns,” Maverick pointed out.

“Miys pointed that out, too,” I admitted. “Okay, new topic, before I die of embarrassment. Festival is out of the way, so the gravity adjustment is scheduled for two days from now.”

Antoine leaned forward with laser-focus. “We need to expect increased anxiety and paranoia, along with some fatigue.”

Tyche and I nodded, while Maverick made a noise of agreement. Conor glanced around at all of us. “Okay, superbrains, tell the dumb lug what I’m not understanding here.”

I rolled my eyes at the self-assigned appellation - he had just given us a  small lecture on the similarities between Miys biology and that of a potted plant -  and gestured for Antoine, following the evening’s convention of deferring to the people with the most expertise. He nodded and explained, “The increase in gravity will only be five-percent of Earth gravity, putting the entire ship at 1.1. It is not enough for anyone to really notice, beyond some minor discomfort, as everyone has already adjusted to the initial increase to 1.05. However, our brains know something is ‘not right’ for lack of a better term.  Not necessarily wrong or dangerous, but not the same and not what we have grown to consider normal, similar to if everything was moved two centimeters to the left – just because you cannot tell exactly what changed, it does not mean you cannot tell something has changed.  This results in increased anxiety and sometimes paranoia.”

Conor nodded as it started to make sense to him. “Even knowing ahead of time that the gravity will be adjusting, it can still happen?”

I snorted violently. “Never expect people to read all their mail.”

“Good point,” he conceded.  “How many total adjustments to gravity are we going to have?”

“Ten, total,” Tyche answered as she flicked open her data pad, shrugging apologetically. “I know, I know. Family rule: no data pads on dinner nights. But I don’t have all the information memorized, and this is a good discussion.”  Scrolling through the information, she stopped and mimed tapping a screen. “Kepler 442b has half-again as much gravity as Earth, which is more than our scientists Before had initially estimated.  Its star is slightly bluer than Sol, but not quite as bright. It isn’t tidally locked, but just barely.  A year there is about three Terran months, with the days half that long. It’s also colder than Earth, due to its star being smaller, but not by much once you compensate for Terran global warming and Kepler 442b having a denser atmosphere.” She scowled up at me. “We need to name our new home, you know. I thought you were going to work on that.”

“I’ve had a lot on my plate,” I objected before sighing and slouching against the back of her couch. “But you’re right. We need to get on that. I want to do an Ark-wide poll, but I need to set the criteria and have it approved by the Council, first. Nobody actually wants to name our second chance ‘Colony McPlanetface’, and I would like to weed out the multitudinous variations of home or dirt.”

“Have people submitting ideas include a justification,” Maverick pointed out. “That will weed out a lot of people who aren’t serious, if they have to include an essay.”

I grinned widely at him, squeezing his arm in affection. “That’s a great idea, actually.  Granted, I don’t look forward to reading all those essays – even if a single-digit percent of people submit, that’s still hundreds – but at least it will limit the submissions that are intended as a joke.”  I thought for a moment. “And… if we include the criteria that the name cannot be certain words or versions of certain words, Zach can probably write a program to weed those out, as well.”  I turned to my sister and Antoine, nudging Conor gently.

“Start thinking of names we don’t want to see.  I’ll send a message to the Council tomorrow asking for their input and running the idea by them tentatively.  And whoever is keeping track, add Goldilocks to that list.  It was unoriginal to start with, and now it just feels cursed.”

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