#i keep saying to myself i would love summer once i get a top surgery but!!!! im not really sure!!

[chaotictomtom]

head hurts so much I HATE YOU SUMMER I HATE YOUUUU :'(((((((

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Spell Book - Page 32: Transformation Spells

Natsume x FtM!Reader

A/N: *throws this at you at Mach speed* LET HIM SUPPORT YOU.

Will I write a MtF! version for Natsume? Maybe in the future, I only had this idea and this is also a way to test my knowledge a bit. If you have an idea though feel free to send it in I want all Natsume lovers to feel supported by this cringey magician :D

-------

Confiding in someone isn’t always easy, even more so when it comes to sharing that you’re not what you were assigned at birth. Growing up as a girl had it’s ups and downs and while he, like anyone else has things he’d love to change about his past, he wants to change his present so he can be the man he’s always been in the future.

But sharing such a thing with someone isn’t easy, especially with your loved ones.

Especially with your significant other.

But he did, terrified out of his mind, he told him. And just like magic his fears were cast aside with the smile Natsume gave him and the knowing, welcoming warm eyes of his gaze.

It’s been months since then, Lives and Idol work taking up both of their time as idol and producer. But once everything settled they finally had a shared break together and decided to spend the time together at Natsume’s home.

Seated on the rug in Natsume’s room they stroke the ball of fluff that’s apparently one of the two family cats. Her name is “Luna” a black cat that engulfs his lap, he can only guess the other cats name.

“Now before we begIN, I will show you some of the items you will need for the speLL.”

Natsume says rummaging through his closet removing this and that out of the way. A few contents in the boxes clink and clack or sound like pouring sand. Others give off the pungent sent of herbs and burnt parchment.

Just what did he have in there?

He doesn’t get to wonder long before Natsume slides a slightly dusty box out from the bottom of his closet. He opens it, whipping the dust on his pants before lifting a thick dark band of shiny fabric in both hands.

“This is one of the items I wore when first going about this sort of maGIC. Wear one with pride but be careFUL, if the binder is too small it can be dangerous for your healTH, so be sure to pick one that fits you well but lets you breaTHE. I can help you measure yourself if need BE.”

Natsume hands the old garment, a thick band of soft and stretchy fabric, into their curious hands. He watches as they pull and stretch the binder this way and that and fiddle with the hooks on one of it’s sides.

“This type is often used after chest surgeRY, to keep your chest is place-” Natsume lifts two binders from the box, both resembling tank tops, though one was more like a crop top. “I recommend this sort during the sumMER, if you like swimming you can get away with people thinking they’re swim gear or a tank top of courSE.”

“AlthouGH...” His face scrunches up in distaste. “I also don’t recommend wearing one during sumMER, you’ll just be cooking yourself aLIVE. Especially when things get past 30 Celcius with the dreaded humidiTY.”

They both shudder at the thought. Japan’s Summers are brutal.

“You can of course choose not to binD, it’s up to personal preferenCE.” He pushes the box towards him to get a closer look at everything. Natsume slides up beside them with his laptop in tow. There’s two windows with multiple tabs open, one with clinical writing and another with items in many colors and styles.

“This is just one part of many steps you can take to transiTION, it’s entirely up to you how much or how little you would like to alter your LIFE. I’ve done this myself and while every experience is differenT, I’ll gladly guide you through IT.”

He holds his hand that’s stopped petting Luna, and places a kiss to the back of it.

“Just know that I love you regardless of what you decide to do, you’re the man I fell for after all.”

[navalcriminalimagines]

Taken & Found - 1

Request 1: Hey there! I'd really like to see a comforting Gibbs after the reader was kidnapped?

Request 2: Could ya do something with the reader being kidnapped and tortured in captivity for a long time and after she was rescued and came back Gibbs tries to get her to talk about what happened to her so he can figure out how to help/comfort her?

Request 3: May I request something with Gibbs and scared reader? Maybe they’re like trapped somewhere or she’s going under for a surgery? You can decide reader’s fate!

This is a two-part fic. This part is basically full angst, focused on Gibbs and the comforting, healing focus on Reader will come in the second part. I wanted to separate both.

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

TW: angst, kidnapping, mention of suicide, depression, slight alcoholism

Words count: 3k

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99

She was supposed to be thirty-five years old today.

And it was one of those very rare days Gibbs didn’t want to get out of bed.

He spent the night working on his boat in the basement, thinking about what his life would be if anything had happened. But he would never know, would he? No matter how bad he wished Shannon and Kelly weren’t dead, how bad he wished you were here with him… all of this happened. And he found himself alone in his basement.

Well, not entirely alone. He had a bottle of bourbon to keep him company, and Fraser, an old black labrador. Your old black lab. Your furry baby, as you used to say.

You rescued it when it was just a puppy, a couple of years before you joined NCIS. So, Gibbs has always known you with this loving thing. At some point, you would even take him to the office and Fraser’s favorite spot was under Gibbs’s desk.

Gibbs never wanted to get attached to the dog. Fraser wasn’t his, it was yours and he respected that. But somehow, you both made your way to his heart.

But only Fraser was still here.

Taking a sip of bourbon directly out of the bottle, his eyes landed on your pet, curled up in the armchair Gibbs put here years ago after you made a remark. “You know, you should put something down here. An armchair or something for people who visit.” You said, while caressing the wood with your fingertips. God did he wish he was the boat at this very moment.

“People who visit never stick around.” He answered, sternly.

“I stick around,” you grinned.

Indeed, you did stick around. A lot. Probably too much.

Would’ve saved him the heartbreak if you didn’t.

A week later, an armchair was down his basement.

With the bottle still in his hand, Gibbs sat next to Fraser and started to toy the blankie. Well, technically, it was not a blankie. It was a tee-shirt. One of yours. The one you left at his house, two years ago.

The top, representing one of your favorite bands, was destroyed now. Fraser chewed it, curled against it nonstop for two years, it was now just some cotton with dog’s hair on it. It didn’t have your smell anymore, it had Fraser’s, but Gibbs never had the strength to take it away from the dog to wash it.

He never had the strength to do much after you disappeared.

When it was clear to the team that you had been taken, kidnapped, abducted or whatever, Gibbs searched for you for weeks, probably mouths. He still does, to be honest, just not 24/7 anymore.

The first weeks, he asked - or actually, ordered - Abby to take care of Fraser. Gibbs was spending all of his time away, looking for you, he couldn’t take care of someone - well, a living thing. The lab tech happily obliged, but Fraser’s health quickly deteriorated. The dog wasn’t eating, or drinking. All he did was lay on the floor, waiting for his mum to come back.

“What, Abby? I don’t—“ not a welcoming way to answer the phone but she didn’t hold it against him.

“I know you’re busy, Gibbs, but I’m taking Fraser to the vet. He’s not okay at all.”

Abby heard her boss taking a deep breath. “Which vet? I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

The dog was clearly letting himself die. Without you, he didn’t see the point of living and Gibbs understood that. If he told anyone what he did after he got Fraser from the vet, they would think he was crazy. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t care about anything, anymore.

Fraser was depressed and there was nothing the vet could do about it. So, they let Gibbs take him home.

And he took him home. His real home; your apartment. Fraser immediately lay on your bed and cried. “You’re reading my mind, Fra.” Gibbs muttered to himself, while preparing a bowl for the pet.

Gibbs had been in your room a few times, but he never paid attention to your stuff. All his attention was on you and your body when it happened. But as he was sitting on the floor, his back against your bed, he allowed himself to take a look around. It was very much you. Minimalist with your touch. He saw your guitar, your messy wardrobe, candles and some Polaroid pictures of people you love. Gibbs never paid attention to those pictures until this moment and one grabbed his attention.

A picture of him. You could see him from afar, aiming to throw a ball. He remembered that night but he never knew you took a picture.

Ziva had invited him to throw a few balls on a baseball field. It was a nice summer night and they had just saved many people from getting blown up. It was also the first night you kissed him. In his basement, you teased him like you always did and ended up with your lips on his. He wasn’t ready for it at that moment, and when he realised what had happened, you were already gone.

Gibbs held the picture in his hand and before sitting back exactly where he was, he went to the kitchen, grabbed what he had prepared and came back.

Fraser was still laying on your bed, his face on your pillow. Gibbs carried him in his arms, the labrador didn’t even fight back or anything. He put him in front of the bowl and Gibbs sat across. “You wanna die, Fra, huh?” The dog looked at him with horrifying sadness in his eyes. “You and me both, buddy. So let’s do this.”

Gibbs put the picture next to the bowl and grabbed his gun and the bottle of whiskey. “I know you know that salmon. Eat it, choke, and when you take your last breath, I’ll pull the trigger.” He said, pressing the gun against his temple.

Fraser is deadly allergic to salmon. When he was a few months old, you fed him some and the reaction was almost instantaneous. Luckily, you took him to the vet right on time for them to save him. “Salmon is banned from the house.” you said on the ride home.

The dog didn’t move one bit. With his face still resting on the floor, he kept looking at the man. Gibbs swore he saw tears in the damn dog’s eyes. “So? Whatcha waiting for? Eat it. It’s good salmon, trust me.” He said, drinking the brown liquor.

If Fraser could talk, he would’ve told him; ‘I may let myself die, but you’re damn crazy.’ Which would’ve been fair.

Gibbs was going crazy. It was the last straw. The last punch in the guts he could take. He had reached his limit.

He was finally letting himself love again and get loved in return. And someone took that away from him. All over again.

He got it, the universe hates him for some reasons. Why would he keep pushing it then?

Gibbs stayed up all night, drinking and waiting for Fraser to eat the fish and die. So he could pull the trigger and end this once and for all.

But Fra never did. Instead, around 5am, the dog went to grab something from the bathroom and put it on Gibbs’ lap. It was one of his hoodies. A hoodie you stole from him. Gibbs buried his nose in it and he could smell you. For the first time in many years, he let himself cry. He cried like a fucking baby, under the watch of your fucking dog.

At some point, he felt that Fraser was trying to nudge his nose in the hoodie too. “We’ll find her, Fra. We have to.”

If Gibbs had killed himself, along with Fraser, it would’ve meant you were gone forever. Because eventually, people would’ve stopped looking for you. They would’ve stopped thinking about you and just pretended you’re dead.

But Gibbs knew you weren’t dead. He knew it deep inside him. Because if you were dead, Fraser would’ve eaten the salmon and he would’ve pulled the trigger.

Laying in his bed, Gibbs turned on his side and found himself face to face with Fraser. The dog was sleeping and snoring. That’s what he does most of his time. Fra was still depressed, but he didn’t let himself die anymore. He eats and drinks the bare minimum. He doesn’t play anymore though. He used to be a happy, playful and loving dog. Now he’s just laying around, waiting for you to come back.

Just like Gibbs.

They both lost weight. Gibbs didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. His hair was longer than it has never been, and his beard was prominent now. You would probably freak out if you saw him like this. You would order him to shave and get his marine haircut back. You would feed him - and Fraser - until they are full. He just wished you were here.

He reached for Fraser’s head and pet him for a moment. “The boat is done and I can’t even offer it to her.” He sadly whispered. It’s been his plan a long time before you were gone. Building a boat after and for you. Now it was your thirty-fifth birthday, the boat was fucking done but he coudn’t teach you how to operate it like he promised.

For the next two weeks, Gibbs would stay in the basement, and stare at the finished product. There was nothing left to do on it, so he just sat behind the wheel, files on his lap and bourdon in one hand. His use of alcohol has never been higher than it is now. You’d scold him if you knew.

Maybe he’s self-destructing, hoping you’d show up and make everything right again. It was stupid, since you didn’t leave on your own. You were taken. Someone took you, and god knows what they were doing to you. This awoke a rage he never knew he had. He’d kill that - or those - person with his bare hands if he ever has a chance.

A month after your birthday, Gibbs was basically falling asleep in his boat, relatively drunk. Fraser was on his lap - he doesn’t realise he’s not a puppy anymore - when the dog shot his head up. “Easy, that’s just Fornell.” Gibbs mumbled, recognizing his friend’s footsteps.

“My two favorite depressed boys.” Tobias greeted them. He gently patted Fraser’s head and looked at his friend. “I need you to sober up, Gibbs. We need to talk about something important.”

“Just say whatever you have to say. I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah, right.” Tobias grabbed the bottle from Gibbs’s hand and checked how empty it was. But Tobias knew only one thing would make him react, so he went straight to the point. “It’s about Y/N, Gibbs. Get your ass—“

Before the FBI agent could finish his sentence, Gibbs had practically thrown Fraser away. The poor dog looked at him with hurt in his eyes. It was only then that Gibbs saw the file his friend was holding against his chest. He didn’t think twice and tore it out of his grip. Tobias let him.

There wasn’t much in the file, just a picture.

A picture of you.

You looked different, thinner, your hair was shorter and in a completely different color. You looked like a homeless woman.

Gibbs’s jaw dropped. His head was spinning so fast, he needed to sit again. He touched the picture with his fingertips so softly, hoping it was like touching you. A lot of things were going through his mind at this moment, he actually drew a blank. “It was taken two days ago. In Wyoming.”

Gibbs didn’t need more.

Tobias had everything planned before he showed up at Gibbs’s place. One of the FBI private planes was waiting for them, in order to take them off to Wyoming. He had asked Emily if she could dogsit Fraser for a few days, and he even called Vance to let him know he was taking Gibbs with him.

In the plane, he told Gibbs how he came across this picture and all of the info he had, which wasn’t much to be honest. As far as they knew, you were in one city of Wyoming two days ago. Maybe you were gone by now.

But all Gibbs could focus on was that picture. He didn’t take his eyes off it since he opened the file. This was you. You were alive. Whatever happened, whatever the reasons you found yourself here, you were fucking alive.

Tobias looked at his friend. He’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he didn’t see the tear rolling down his cheek. “How you feeling?” He tentatively asked.

“I—I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

“She’s alive. We know it. We’ll find her.”

“I’ve always known she was alive.”

No doubt he did.

It was hard for Tobias to tame Gibbs after they landed. The agent was already barking orders at everybody and anybody, he was ready to organize a fucking manhunt to find you. But the first place they went was where the picture was taken. Gibbs spent hours in the area, while Tobias went to see the local cops. When he tried to check on Gibbs, the man never answered.

In the picture, you were looking at the surveillance camera. You knew you were being watched. You did it on purpose, Gibbs was sure of it. You must have left a clue somewhere around.

You looked scared, someone must have been following you. But he knew from what Tobias said; there wasn’t much more on the video. You were briefly seen and then disappeared, again. “Talk to me, Y/N.” Gibbs thought to himself while looking around.

It was only around noon that it hit him. He finally saw it.

Right there on the graffiti wall.

“Born to lose, live to win.”

Your handwriting. This sentence. Your tattoo.

You must have written this to let him know he should look at this wall. So he did. He studied those graffitis for a long moment, until he saw what he needed to see.

Numbers. GPS coordinates.

He called McGee, not paying attention to the missed calls he had. He gave him the coordinates and Tim gave him an address.

Was that it? The nightmare was finally over? He would go to this address, find you and take you home. Finally.

Fucking finally.

He felt dizzy while running to the address. It wasn’t that far away, and there was no way he’d wait for Fornell or a cab. So, he jogged to this fucking house. When he was standing in front of it, his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would stop.

But he couldn’t die now. He would die after he found you but not now.

He didn’t care about procedures or anything. He grabbed his gun, and let himself in the house by knocking out the door. A man was sitting there, on the couch.

The house was pure filth. The man seemed to be a bit younger than him, and he looked like a psychopath. Which he is, considering he took you.

The man was standing in his living room, his hands up as Gibbs pointed the gun at him. In a flash, Gibbs was standing right in front of the man, the gun pressed against his throat. The man looked scared, he didn’t even try to fight. “What the hell, man? Who are you? What do—“

“Shut your mouth. Where is she?” Gibbs asked, suppressing the urge to beat the man to death right now. That would come later. He needed to find you first.

“Who? There’s no—“

Gibbs’s knee hit him right in his crotch and that bastard fell on the floor. “You’re living the final hour of your life, you better tell me where the hell is Y/N, before I watch life leaving your fucking eyes.”

“I—I—“

Seeing his hesitation, Gibbs punched him. “Where?!” He yelled, but the man stayed silent. “Fine.”

Gibbs grabbed the guy by his collar to put him back up. He was physically impressive, but the adrenaline running through Gibbs’s veins gave him incredible strength. He threw him on the first chair he saw and immediately cuffed him to it. He punched him once more, harder this time.

His nose and lips were bloody, but of course it wasn’t enough. Gibbs fought a lot in his life. To defend himself or to arrest someone, but never, had he been filled with that much rage and anger. He didn’t think twice before his boot hit the man directly in his face, knocking him unconscious. He stared as the man fell on the floor along with the chair he was cuffed to.

He needed to find you. Right now.

No need to be a federal agent to know a psychopath would hold you captive somewhere private.

So he immediately looked for a basement, which he quickly found and he saw the door.

A reinforced door with quite a few locks. Keys. He needed keys that he found in the man’s pocket. Although he was still laying on the floor, fighting to regain consciousness, Gibbs kicked him again, in the stomach this time. He wasn’t holding back his strength one bit. He will kill him anyway.

As he was unlocking the door, his hands were shaking like they never did before. His heart was still pounding in his chest. He still felt dizzy.

He was sure his heart actually stopped when he spotted you on the one-person bed. You were holding your knees against your chest. It was dark, but it was you. You were there, a few feet in front of him. He didn’t even know what to do.

But you did.

When you realised who was standing in front of you, you weakly jumped off the bed and rushed into his arms.

The only thing that kept you alive all this time; knowing that he would find you.

You felt even smaller than you already were. With your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest, Gibbs felt you crying.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid he may hurt you. Afraid you would disappear again. “You found me.” he heard you whispering.

That he did.

[collecting-stories]

Break - JJ Maybank

Request: May I request 17 and 27 with JJ? 💕💕 I love your writing / Request: Hi! I love your stories so much, you are very talented. Do you think you could do one where you get hurt in some way and JJ is super protective and worried and takes care of u or something along those lines? / Request: Love your stories so much! I was wondering if you would do one where the reader is the one that fell out of the hawks nest not john b and then jj is super protective of you and takes care of u or something along those lines. Thank u!

A/N: This took a lot longer to write than expected!

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

If relationships were balanced symbiotic unions like Pope said they were then you were definitely the calm to JJ’s storm. The rational, cautious, slow to action, voice of reason that levelled him out and made sure that things didn’t get out of hand. You never jumped head first into anything. It was why Kiara insisted that you go with John B up to the Hawks Nest to meet Sarah.  

“I’m just going to get the map Kie,” John B argued, blocking the door of the Twinkie. You were sitting beside JJ, his arm around your shoulder while you leaned into him.  

“I don’t mind,” you offered, “you won’t even know I’m there. You can mack on her all you want.”

“I’m not macking on Sarah Cameron. I’m here for a map and nothing else.”

“Well I don’t believe you.” Kiara said, reiterating the point she’d been making since she found out about John B and Sarah. She didn’t trust that something wasn’t going on between them.  

“Fine.” John B snapped, “you can come.”  

You climbed out of the Twinkie, following John B to the Hawks Nest. You hung back once you got to the top of the deck, leaving John B and Sarah to talk while you tried to keep and eye on the Twinkie in the distance. It was hard, without power on the island and the headlights on the Twinkie dimmer than most, but you could see at least a hint of a glow in the distance. Better than watching John B flirt with Sarah after insisting that this was nothing personal and he was only in it for the map.  

“John B, we need to get going.” You reminded, turning toward him and Sarah, missing the other set of headlights that pulled up in the distance.  

“In a minute.” He waved you off, attention still fixed on the kook princess and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes as you stepped up to the platform that they were standing on.  

JJ, Pope, and Kiara sat waiting in the van, Kiara still focused on the fact that John B was up there with Sarah Cameron. Pope listened sympathetically but JJ sat there on the floor rolling a joint while Kiara made herself more and more annoyed. None of them noticed the extra set of headlights either, all too engrossed in what they were doing to pay any attention to playing look out like they were supposed to.  

All you remembered was running over to push Topper away from Sarah and all JJ remembered was the sound of John B’s voice, screaming for help against the otherwise quiet night. Kiara had been the first one to hear it, shushing the other two and then taking off when she realized what the sound was. The three of them tore across the field to the Hawks Nest, where John B was kneeling over you, laying on the ground, on your back.  

“Shit! Are you okay? Are you bleeding?” Pope asked, dropping down by your head, pressing his hands to either side of your face to stabilize you when he realized you weren’t moving. Kiara grabbed your hand, Sarah already holding the other while she tried to calm you down.  

“What happened?” JJ was frantic, voice cracking as he looked to John B for answers.  

“It doesn’t matter right now, we need an ambulance.” Sarah commented, “John B.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” John B replied, running for the Twinkie.  

“JJ,” you tried to move your head to see your boyfriend but Pope held onto you. “JJ.”

“Hey, I’m right here, I’m right here.” He promised, leaning over so you could see him. He looked up at Pope, “can’t we just take her?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“She said she can’t feel her legs.” Sarah cut in, “before you ran up, she said-”

“What does that mean?” JJ asked.  

As all four of them started to talk you could feel your head swimming. They felt like they were getting further and further away from you, slowly drowning out as the sound of sirens in the distance took over. Kiara let go of your hand to run out and meet the paramedics. The only thing you could fell was Pope, his hands still pressing against the sides of your head gently, stabilizing you even as the EMT pushed everyone away. JJ’s voice was the last one to fade out.

JJ wasn’t unfamiliar with hospitals. He’d been in them plenty of times but always for himself. The time he had a concussion, the time he broke his ankle, the time he needed stitches. But he’d never been the one in the waiting room. John B took Sarah home to change but Kiara and Pope stayed with him, trying to be as reassuring as possible. When your mom got there JJ nearly sobbed out an apology, taking full blame despite John B telling them that it was Topper who had pushed you off the Hawks Nest during an altercation.  

He paced the hallway, stood outside with Pope to vape, downed three cups of coffee despite hating the stuff, and finally collapsed in one of the chairs in the waiting room, falling asleep only because of exhaustion. When he was woken up again it was by Kiara, changed back into regular clothes that her dad had brought her, telling him that they were allowed to see you.  

“Pope and I figured you should go first.” Kiara said, voice soft as she rubbed JJ’s back. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself before he got up and headed down the hall to your room.  

You were alone when he entered, your mom having stepped out to give you and JJ some alone time to talk. She wasn’t mad at your boyfriend though he felt like she should be. His hands were shaking and his whole body felt like it was clammy. You were alone but you were also awake and you moved you shifted when you heard the door open.

“JJ,” you smiled, the morphin made everything feel light and breezy like you were floating. It drew your mind away from what the doctor had told your mom, you had a hairline fracture in your vertebrae. They could go in tomorrow and do emergency surgery but you’d be in a chair for at least six weeks.  

There were a million things JJ wanted to say to you. Things that would make this better, easier. Honest things about how scared he was, how terrified that it was even worse than it was. But instead he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“What were you thinking? Were you trying to get yourself killed?” He exclaimed, voice cracking at the end, sounding as terrified as he felt.  

“Didn’t exactly jump off the deck myself.” You replied, eyes fluttering as the morphine kicked in.  

“I know, I know,” JJ insisted, shaking his head. He walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and taking your hand in his. You smiled, holding his hand in yours.  “When I saw you laying on the ground...”

“It’s okay.” You promised, “the doctor said I’ll be okay, everything’ll be normal again.”

JJ nodded, using his free hand to rub at the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He’d been so sure when he came up on you, laying on the ground, that you were gone. He’d frozen as he’d watched Pope hold you and Kiara promise that things would be okay. It looked, after all, like they might be but that didn’t erase the fear or ease the panic.  

“When I see Topper-”

“Jay, just lay with me for a little while please?” You asked, tugging on his hand gently, “can we think about Topper later?”

“Right.” He lifted his legs up, careful not to hurt you further as he laid beside you in the hospital bed.  

-

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[remys-lucky-franc]

Kissing Prompt #27 - Queen of Thieves (Remy)

I know everyone else who was doing these has probably finished working on them already - I’m a slow writer I’m afraid - but I get there in the end - and I’ve really loved working on these prompts ☺️ This is the 2nd last one I have on my list (unless I get any more requests!) - this was requested for Remy and it’s # 27: kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

Written from Remy’s POV

Word Count ~ 1400 words

May have gone a litte bit off piste here - it’s not much exchanged as just given really, but I hope you enjoy it anyway 💜

—- [MORE] [[MORE]]

“Come on, Niko, hurry!”

I hiss quietly at my new friend as he slips through the shutter I’ve prised open. I try to be as discrete as I can. I’ve been on the streets for long enough now to know the importance of disappearing into the shadows, of moving quickly. Niko hasn’t mastered this yet: he snags the edge of his expensive-looking sweater on the rough metal frame, curses under his breath in what I’m sure is his native language, and wrestles to free himself while he tries to keep hold of the kitten. I cast one final glance around the alley before I deftly unhook him and slip through the shutter behind him.

He shoots me that haughty look that I’ve become accustomed to in the past few days, “I had it.”

I fix him with a wink and a grin that say, ‘oh, really?’ as I slip past him, through the storage room and into the waiting area of the medical practice. It’s Friday evening and this place won’t reopen until Monday morning’s first surgery - it’s somewhere safe and warm that we can sleep for a couple of nights. It has a small kitchenette where I can throw together some food for us using a few ingredients I pilfered from a grocery store earlier, plus whatever is left over in the staff fridge. But the best part is that there’s a television and a couple of plush waiting room sofas where we can maybe catch a few hours of sleep. Not that either of us sleep much - just enough to sustain us through the next day: never more.

Once I’ve got my bearings, I set to work on our food and discover a pack of cold cuts that will be perfect for Elizabeth. I call out to Nikolai and get no answer. I try again. And again... Uneasy, I grab a kitchen knife and make my way from room to room silently, stealthily, my heart swelling inside my chest. I scan each doorway as I make my way down the hallway until I reach the main consultation room, and find Niko sitting cross-legged amongst a pile of books, utterly absorbed. I swear under my breath, relieved. I drop down to crouch by him, curious, lifting up one thick tomb,

“Principles and Mechanisms of Clinical Toxicology?”

Nikolai barely grunts in response; too engrossed in what he’s reading.

I check the cover of the textbook in his hand. ‘The Basic Science of Poisons’... I swallow: this is definitely not a weird or intense topic for a runaway fifteen year old - not at all... I tilt my head at him, awaiting some sort of explanation. An acknowledgement? Something? Anything? Niko?

When nothing comes, I tut at him and shake my head in irritation. I return to the half-prepared food feeling slightly disconcerted by my new friend’s fascination with toxins and mortality. He’s so guarded: I can’t help but wonder what his secrets are and what exactly it is that he’s running from? Eventually I reason that I have my fair share of skeletons too, so I won’t pry. He might tell me someday, if he really wants to.

Later that evening, after we’ve eaten, chatted and watched some easy movie on the TV in the waiting room, we turn in for the night. It’s early March and despite the bright Parisian sunshine, there’s a definite chill in the air reminding us that summer isn’t with us quite yet. After some rummaging, I’ve found some pillows and rough hospital blankets in the store cupboard to keep the cold out and make us a little more comfortable. I take the smaller of the two sofas, but Nikolai’s spindly, long legs still dangle over the edges of his when he lies down: he looks so cramped and awkward. Still, it’s luxury compared to the exposed rooftop we slept on on top of our jackets for the past two nights. The sickly moonlight provides no comfort. You can see your breath while you shiver beneath it - little wonder neither of us did more than doze for a few minutes, waiting for the rays of the morning sun to return and restore some warmth and life to us. It sounds so romantic and fanciful, a life of adventure on the streets - going where you like, doing what you want, no parents to answer to - but it’s not. It’s hard on the streets: harder than I imagined it could ever be. But by now, I’m used to it. Niko isn’t yet, so I’ll look out for him.

I’m not sure how much later it is that I’m yanked from sleep by the sound of anguished screams. On my feet in seconds, heart racing, I’m half-dazed and scrambling to find Nikolai’s attacker. I whirl around in the darkness again and again and again, scanning, searching... Until I realise. There’s no one else here. Only me, a frightened kitten and the pale, dark-haired boy asleep on the sofa, thrashing and wailing in a tongue that I can’t understand. Instinctively I kneel by the sofa and lay the back of my hand against his forehead as he flinches away from my touch; he’s stone-cold and drenched in sweat. I speak his name, quietly at first, trying to lure him back from whatever horror grips him behind those blue eyes, then louder, and louder. My hands grip his arms as I gently try to shake him out of it, but it’s no use! He twists and pulls against me, gasps and shouts. As I finally manage to jerk him awake he leaps clear of the sofa, tears stream down his waxy cheeks as he backs away from me, sobs catching in his throat as he calls for Elizabeth. I pause and hold my hands up to show him I mean no harm as I crawl to where he sits, back pinned to the wall, head in his hands, nose buried in her soft grey fur.

“Niko, it’s ok? You’re going to be ok...”

I slip in beside him on the tiled floor, shoulder to shoulder, and peer across at him; I’ve never seen anyone look so fragile and shattered, and all I want in the world is to stop this before he fractures completely. I loop my arm around his shoulders and feel him bristle for a second before he relaxes into me in spite of himself. I know he’s both taller and older than me, but in this moment he looks so young and so very small. He reminds me of my younger brother when we shared a bedroom and he would have a bad dream. He would never call for our maman, always for me: only for me. Although it was simple imaginary monsters under a seven-year-old’s bed that I had to vanquish back then. Now with Nikolai and his demons, I find myself doing as I would with Etienne when we were little; I pull Nikolai closer until both he and Elizabeth are in my lap and his head rests against my chest, the calming rhythm of my heartbeat thrums in his ear.

He tries to protest, mumbling that he’s fine, to leave him be. But he’s not, that much is very, very clear. He shakes like an autumn leaf; brittle and exhausted. I rock our bodies slowly from side to side, mouthing soothing platitudes because they’re all that I have: what else can I say to him when I don’t understand what’s going on? I mop his brow and brush his hair back from his tear-streaked face, softly pressing silent kisses into his crown. I calm and hush him until he eventually snaps fully out of whatever God-awful night terror this was, stiffens to his usual stature and slips away from me with an embarrassed look on his pinched features, the little cat twisting around his ankles as he goes.

I watch after him wordlessly and drop back onto my sofa, sliding under my blankets before he returns. I haven’t known Nikolai for very long at all, but I already understand enough to know that he won’t want a post-mortem of what just happened. When he reappears in the doorway, I ask simply, “Better now?”, and am quite satisfied with the curt nod and tight-lipped smile I’m met with, an accord that we won’t speak of this tomorrow.

[heloflor]

So, I have set myself the objective to finish prologue 2 of “As Time Passes” before the end of the month but then the Dennis fic got in the way…

To make it up, and because I kind of want to show stuff about this prologue, here’s a fluffy and angsty WIP about Dakota post top surgery. And yeah, I guess he’s pretty young in the fic for surgery but I like to imagine that, on a social scale, things got better in the future so people being trans are a normal occurence. Also progress was made on a technological level so it’s very safe for teens (bottom surgery isn’t before 16 though since it’s longer and more difficult).

And for context : there are four siblings. Enzie (23, caretaker of the other three), Bettie (19, studies abroad but came back for the summer), Donnie (15, lives with Enzie), Vinnie (13, lives with Enzie). Because I can’t draw, the designs of the siblings OCs can be found on my miitopia game if you’re curious.

Anyways. Enjoy !

(1k words work ahead)

.

July 10, 2144

.

.

Vinnie was in the bathroom, shirtless, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked the exact same as he did a few days ago, aside from one small difference.

He now had two scars on either side of his chest.

He stared at it for a long moment. He had been let out of the hospital only a few hours ago and didn’t have had the time to look at his scars yet.

If Vinnie had to be honest, seeing those scars felt weird.

“Vinnie ?”, Enzie’s voice was followed by a knock on the door.

“You can come in.”, the teen replied, never breaking eye-contact with his reflection.

“How are you feeling, piccino ?”, the older brother asked. “Does it hurt ?”

“No, it’s fine…at least I think ?”, Vinnie replied. He let a finger trace one of the scars.

“Don’t touch it.”, Enzie warned, taking his brother’s hand away. “You don’t want to get it infected.”, Vinnie glanced at the adult and, noticing his expression, quickly understood his brother was serious.

“I know, I know.”, the teen replied defensively. He looked back at the mirror, at his scars. “It’s just…”, he made a hand gesture towards the mirror. “you know ?...”

“Keep going.”, Enzie encouraged, setting himself against the counter.

“It’s just…it’s just…strange, to suddenly see my body look like this. It’s weird to know I had surgery. I mean, my breast didn’t even have time to grow.”

“And that’s a good thing, right ?”, Enzie’s voice was suddenly filled with concern.

“O-of course it’s a good thing !”, Vinnie was quick to reassure. The last thing he wanted was for Enzie to think he just wasted an important amount of money. “I’m happy about it, I swear ! It’s just…I look different. That’s all.”

“Well, if you’re happy about it, that’s good.”, the older brother replied. He then stayed still, his eyes closed. When Vinnie noticed it, he immediately raised an eyebrow.

“You’re thinking about something.”, the teen pointed out.

“I am.”, Enzie smiled. “I’m thinking about the three of you.”, the older brother reopened his eyes, looking ahead of him. “Between Bettie studying abroad, Donnie on the path to become a nurse and now you getting your own life as well…”, he sighed. “You all are growing too fast.”

“Yeah.”, Vinnie teased. “Soon we’ll all be out of your hair.”

Enzie chuckled. “As if that would stop me from seeing you as the babies you once were…”, another sigh. “It feels like only yesterday I was taking you all away from Claudia’s clutches.”

“…I guess it’s been a while.”, the younger brother thought out loud. He smiled. “A lot sure has changed.”

Enzie straightened himself. “And I believe it all changed for the better, don’t you think ?”, the two brothers shared a look and Enzie smiled warmly. “I’m glad to see you all be happy, even if things aren’t always easy.”

Vinnie smiled back. “I’m glad you’re doing better too.”, he replied.

Enzie glanced away, his smile faltering. “yeah…”, he whispered.

Vinnie kept looking at his older brother for a few more moments. Noticing the man wasn’t budging, the younger brother went back to look at his reflection. He let his arms rest on the counter, making sure not to touch his scars as the discussion they just had replayed in his head.

“Say…what do you think they became ?”, he asked.

“huh ?”

“Mamma and papà, I mean.”, Vinnie explained, bracing himself when he noticed his brother glancing down, his gentle expression from earlier completely gone and replaced by a building rage. “What do you think they beca-“

“Does it ever matter ?”, Enzie interrupted. “They never bothered for us. Why should we care about them ?”, he spatted.

“I was just asking…”, Vinnie mumbled, avoiding looking at Enzie. He should’ve expected such an answer…

“…”, Enzie sighed. “I guess…”, he started with a calmer voice. “I guess mam- I guess Claudia’s happy she doesn’t have us as a burden anymore. She probably went back to do illegal stuff for money full-time. As for Pietro…”, Enzie’s eyes filled with anger again. “He’s probably alone and miserable, struggling to get by. That’s everything he deserves...”

Vinnie was uncomfortable by the way Enzie talked about their father. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. Their parents were terrible people. Trying to get their love would only leave him miserable. But at the same time…

Vinnie’s thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey.”, his older brother said. “There’s no point thinking about the past, alright ? We’re here now. We’re safe now.”, his grip on Vinnie’s shoulder tightened. “I won’t let anything happen to the three of you.”

Vinnie could only nod at his brother’s words. Eventually, Enzie pointed towards the door. Vinnie followed suit, understanding the message. It was soon time for the older brother to make dinner, and Vinnie really needed to put a shirt back on now.

.

“There he is !”, Vinnie was startled as Bettie’s voice filled his ears. He turned towards his approaching sister. “Look at that manly man over here !”, she reached her brothers and immediately got a hold on Vinnie, ruffling his hair with all her strength.

“Bettie !”, Vinnie tried to protest despite his own amusement.

“To think I used to believe you were a girl when we were kids ! What was I thinking !?”, the older sister finally let go of him, instead putting her hands on Vinnie’s shoulders. “Just look at you now ! You’re going to impress all the girls looking like such a man.~ ”

“And the boys !”, the younger brother added.

“And the boys !”, she corrected herself.

“Bettie, come on.”, Enzie gently reprimanded. “He’s only thirteen.”

“So what ? I was thirteen when I started getting into girls.”, the sister replied with a shrug. She ruffled Vinnie hair again, this time much more nicely. “Let him live, he’s not a baby anymore. I mean, look at him ! Look at that man over here !”, she joked again.

“I know.”, the oldest sibling replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. It seemed like Enzie really was going to have trouble letting his siblings go…Vinnie couldn’t blame his brother for it. He was always willing to sacrifice everything for them...They were the most important thing he had going on in life…

“And speaking of girls.”, Bettie continued, stopping Vinnie’s from going too far in his thoughts. “I have a certain someone to call. See you at dinner !”, and at that, she walked away.

“Bettie, wait !”, Vinnie called after a few seconds of hesitation.

“What ?”

Before she could react, the younger brother ran back to her and hugged her, almost making the both of them fall between his speed and her surprise.

“Thank you. For the compliments, I mean.”

It took a short instant before the sister returned his embrace. “Always, patatino.”, they pulled away. “Now, how about you try to find a way to scare Donnie using those ?”, she playfully asked, pointing at his scars.

“I’ll see what I can do.”, Vinnie replied with a laugh. Seemingly satisfied, Bettie let go of him and went to her bedroom. Vinnie did the same. He still had a shirt to put on.

.

As he walked with Bettie’s last words still in mind, he found himself glance down at his chest, at the scars that were now permanently going to be here. He smiled.

That change was weird, for sure.

But that was the kind of weird change he could get used to.

[captainjimothycarter]

Prompt 12 for Winterhawk please? :)

We dated in high school but then you moved away but now you’re back in town. Winterhawk.

 My baaaabies.

--

Hey you. It’s Bucky. – JB

I know, weirdly texting you outta the blue after not talking to you for a few years but I’m back in town and I ran into Natasha and she mentioned you. – JB

I was wondering if you wanted to catch up? Go out for a drink or two. Feel free to say no. – JB

Just let me know, don’t leave me hanging. – JB

“What the hell,” Clint breathed, shoving his phone into Natasha’s face with a frustrated look on his. She just raised an eyebrow at him and shrugged her shoulders. Universal language in Natasha-speak for not my problem. “You told him about me?! You know we broke up years ago.”

“He asked about you,” she sighed, leaning back into her chair so it balanced on two legs. “He was curious, fluttering around the subject of you. And, Barton, I know you still pine after him and don’t sit here and lie to me and tell me otherwise.”

Clint grunted as he sat back on his own chair, looking down at the text messages again. His thumbs trembled, hovering over the letters, unsure of what to say. Natasha was right. They’d broken up on mutual terms, so Bucky could go to college in California and be with his family and Clint could stay in Brooklyn and do God knows what.

The thing was, he did still pine after this man. Like really wanted him. He’d tried dating a few guys and gals here and there but nothing felt the same. He wasn’t comparing them to James at all, it just never reached that level of happiness and trust he had with this man.

“Besides, Clint, he still wants you too. I didn’t tell him anything, I left that up to you.”

Somehow, Clint both loved and hated Natasha for that fact. He just looked up at her with soft, blue eyes and sighed, typing back a quick message.

Sounds great. Meet you at Luke’s at 10? - CB

An almost instant reply and one that shouldn’t’ had made his heart leap, but it did. Great. Can’t wait to see you again and tell you about my metal arm. – JB

--

Turns out, they’d both changed over the five years since high school graduation. Bucky had graduated within two years of college and spent the last three in the military. The military wasn’t his top choice and he despised it to a point but it was a constant check he could send back to his baby sister after their parents had died.

Clint sympathized with the man, he really did. He knew how much the man begrudgingly had to swallow his pride in other to join the military to help raise his baby sister. That wasn’t fair on him at all, but that was James alright. One to step up to the plate and do what needs to be done, no matter the cost. Long as the decision was the right one. He was a firm believer in doing the wrong thing for the right reason.

Three years in the military, four tours, and all Sargeant James Barnes got to come home with was a missing metal arm, severe PTSD, a distrust of closed-off spaces and loud noises, and no help from the government what so ever. That’s why he came back to Brooklyn, still just as loud as California but Becca was out here in college, so he could stay with her. And Natasha had taken up the man’s case to get the back pay he was owed for disability.

“Top it off, Nat got in me in contact with the Starks? They’re the leading minds behinds robotic prosthetics and I’m sorta their test dummy.” Bucky picked up his left hand and let the soft lights of the dingy bar shine on it, wiggling his fingers in Clint’s direction. “Works like a charm, if you ask me. Sorta gets stuck sometimes and if it gets wet, I gotta spend a while drying the gears, but for first-timers it’s amazing. Surgery wasn’t that bad either, connecting it to my nerves and all. I can even feel with it, but it's not the same as with my flesh hand, just a metal thing to tell me something is hot or cold.”

Clint was in awe of it, really. He watched the gears move to accommodate the fingers moving, plates shifting one over the other to help the digits move. He reached out to touch it, finding it smooth, all along except for his palm where it was ridged. “Beautiful,” he breathed, his cheeks flushing as he became fully aware he was still holding onto his hand and jerked his hand back. “S-sorry, it looks…good.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” Bucky had let his hair grow out, says it made him feel different from before where he had to keep it properly trimmed and off his collar. It felt like breaking the rules that still lingered on his mind, the beard too. Natasha must’ve helped him braid his hair just because there’s no way this man was that elegant with his hair. “So, what about you? What’s happened to you? You’ve…changed. In a good way! Not bad!”

Clint laughed, just because he’d never seen Bucky so flustered before. The man’s cheeks grew a darker red at the laugh, turning to drain the beer before he could say anything else. “Come on, Buck, I know I’m different. I just…uh didn’t know how to say that to you? Or anyone, hell even myself.”

Bucky just cocked his brow and let his eyes roam over the tall, muscular figure that was now Clint Barton. He admired the way the man start to flush the brightest shade of pink. “Well, I’m glad that you did, buddy. You look amazing.”

“Yeah, well when your hate for yourself starts to manifest into an obsession in the gym and bow and arrows…” Clint shrugged, clearing his throat. “The full names Clint Francis Barton now. I got it officially changed last summer, been on hormones for over two years now.”

“Well, I gotta say, you look so much happier now.” His metal arm threw over Clint’s shoulder and squeezed him tightly to his chest. “Like you’ve really blossomed. You’re not hiding yourself or snapping at people. You’ve really come a long way, Clint. I think the name suits you better but not Francis, we’re finding you something better.”

“You are not. Barney helped me pick out that name!” Clint pouted, but still not moving against Bucky’s chest. He was still a good few inches taller than him and yet laying on his chest felt like home. Thankfully Bucky was never one to throw a fit when it came to dating people taller than him.

“Nahhh, who cares what Barney picked out? It doesn’t fit you.” Bucky barely got to move out of the way before Barney, their bartender for the evening threw a soiled rag at his face.

“I do!” The Barton brothers both said at once, making the veteran pause before laughing.

“Alright, alright. The name stays. Geez. Francis.”

This is the first time Clint’s laughed like this in weeks, months even. He’s happier around Bucky, surer, more confident now that he knew Bucky wasn’t going to be against him coming out. Not that the thought he would, but that fear was there, always on the surface. It’s one thing that made him stop talking to Bucky, that what if…

Because Bucky’s opinion, Clint quickly found out as the night waned on and they got deeper into their drinks, the man’s opinion still meant everything to him.

“Wanna go back to my place?” Clint mused, face flushed from the alcohol, and jerking his chin towards the door. “Just moved in. We could break the bed in.”

Bucky snorted behind his hand, rolling his eyes. “You’re so terrible at flirting.”

“Wait is that a yes?” Clint had never looked more adorable to this man then confused, the way his nose scrunched up.

Instead of answering, Bucky leaned closer and just brushed his lips over Clint’s, the blonde smiling against his lips.

That was a yes.

[404fmdminjung]

famed idol life / career meme

notes: i started doing responses one by one, but then i thought it’d be better to do one big mass-post instead of flooding dash all at once. thank you to all that sent in! appreciate u all :~) (if anyone has any numbers they need, please feel free to like this or just let me know, even if i already sent in an ask!)

2. what are your favorite b-sides/non-title tracks you’ve released?

“i like diana. there’s something moody, sultry about it with a touch of elegance. it’s almost like cheap wine on a long friday — contrasting, but it somehow fits. plus, sooah helped out on that track which becomes the cherry icing on top. perhaps, there’s something better coming out on my next album, where there’s too many b-sides that i’d cherry pick myself to be my favorite. for that, look out at the sea, captain.”

3. what is your least favorite song (title track or b-side) you’ve released?

“i don’t think there’s a least favorite. if there were, then i wouldn’t have partook in any of it — my personality’s in it or out of it. there’s no in between, especially where my voice plays a part. i don’t want to touch things where my heart doesn’t lie, that’d just be cruel. wouldn’t it? if it doesn’t relieve my soul a bit, then i don’t think i’d dip my toes in those waters.”

6. what is one thing (a concept, a genre, an outfit, etc.) you would least like your company make you do?

“i’d like to do house funk, maybe house-pop. you’ve seen elements in it in knight’s old releases, and even the oldies like decipher’s done it. unity’s dabbled in it somewhat in their b-sides, and considering fuse has amassed a long bridge of different concepts — the spectrum’s large. i’d like to wear hawaiian t-shirts and prance around to some summer house-funk, and that’s something i think the general public can all dance around in their rooms to.”

8. if you could be in any idol group, which one would you choose?

“i’ve grown accustomed to fuse — i like being in fuse. i don’t think i’d fit anywhere else, though i would say bee would be a nice change for the summer fun. i’d even enjoy myself to be in unity had i been a boy. can you imagine? the fun that would come out of belting welcome to my playground, and singing the tunes to touch. that’d be a girl’s dream come true.”

9. if you could say one thing to your ceo, what would it be?

“you’re the prettiest person i’ve ever seen. in the whole country, out of all the women in the world — you’re the standard of beauty. but i’m sure the whole world knows that by now, don’t they? i thank you for giving fuse some of the best songs, and though i’ve never met you face by face, i’d like to believe you’re better than what’s shown from face value. but, still — my wannabe face is you but no amount of plastic surgery would turn me into you, would it?”

10. if you were auditioning for your company today, what would you perform for your audition, or what would you change from your original audition?

“i don’t think i’d repeat the dance, nor attempt to dance to something like seo taeji and boys. if i recall, i did h.o.t’s we are the future, and snsd’s kissing you with a ruler i had in my back pocket. in retrospect, that was my standard of dancing — if only i’d known it’d become a bad memory to highlight the work i have left. maybe, i’d only stick to kissing you, ruler version while singing something more melodically acceptable than finkl’s now.”

11. if you could do any special stage, what would it be and who would it be with?

“i don’t know — i don’t know many things when it comes to these mix and match scenarios. i know i’d like to make a stage where i can dance freely as if i’m in the comfort of my own home. perhaps to a song like gee, or even oh — even willing to dabble in lipstick’s genie if it means dressing up like a sailor and going ahoy. i’d want to do the stage with jeonghwa, sooah, and well — i don’t have that many friends to give you a special stage, oops.”

13. if you could become a model or ambassador for any brand, what would you choose?

”again, i’ve been blessed and satiated with each and every opportunity given. working with dior has been a smooth sailing ride as well as cartier — perhaps, given the option i wouldn’t opt for pathere de cartier but a different line. still, nothing really takes away from the heart and soul of their jewelry, which i appreciate with my cup of tea. i’d continue to work with dior, and if hermes would ever take the punch — i’d even have an affair with them.”

14. if you could be on any variety show, which one (or which type of one) would you want to be on?

“knowing brothers — i really watch that show. or even, 전지적 참견 시점 — those are the shows i keep tabs of on a weekly basis. i'd love my manager to have her time to shine and steal the hearts of the world with her variety work. she’s a very funny person you know. as for knowing brothers? that’s a given knowing how quick the crowd is on their feet and the little mini-games that come from each episode. i hurt my stomach each time from laughing along so many times.”

16. what changes would you implement if you were the ceo of your company?

“a free-for-all. i’ve never wanted to become a ceo, but had i been granted the opportunity to rule on all floors, i’d implement a few things. mandatory art classes, and creative freedom to the album jackets for all my artists. no dating-bans, let it all air out — most of all, i’d let them do as they wished as long has it harmed nobody else and they could handle the aftermath. no restrictions, roam free, bunnies.”

17. what do you do to relieve the stress of idol life?

“call me pretentious or call me a sell-out, i do what any other normal person does. i like sitting in the cafes with my notebook out, sketching. i sketch people that come in and out, or the people that decide to sit next to me. if i’m home, i’m painting on canvas with my record player crooning in the background or knitting a sweater to wear next winter. on a really adventurous day, you’ll see me playing the pole or stretching my limbs at pilates. but that’s on a non-lazy day.”

18. what tips would you give to a trainee about to debut?

“wear your skin like armor, and let it thicken as time goes on. no need to get hurt by words, and instead roll with the punches — learn to accept the hate that comes, and be scrutinized underneath a microscope. sometimes, you don’t know if it’s really reality, but the faster you assimilate yourself, the quicker you learn to glide past your career. think of everything as a catch-22, only there’s no real safety net.”

19. what was the hardest part of being a trainee?

“getting along with the other people and have them stay away from getting to know me. it’s obvious, the trainee life is temporary — there’s going to be those that debut and those that don’t, so why pry further than you have to? everyone should’ve been given the basic privacy instead of trying to play formalities and get along. other than that, i hated dance practice and i still do. dance isn’t a strong suit, and having someone force me to follow a tempo i can’t march to was no fun at all.”

20. did you enjoy the lifestyle of a trainee or of a debuted idol more?

“i liked being a debuted idol far better, only because there was a layer of privacy given to me. ironically, i was suddenly in the public eye. yet, it still allowed some layer of anonymity within the inner circle and the day to day people i interacted with. starting from a sea of trainees, and having it dwindle to a group of my members — it all made it easier to handle in the end. besides, i was getting no sleep regardless trainee or not.”

22. describe your dream sub-unit (members and concept).

“take the fuse darker concepts — peekaboo, bad boy, psycho. and merge it into one, all while getting rid of the dresses too short to dress in. wrap it all together, and you get my favorite concept. i like mystery, and latent meanings behind pretty tunes, and being able to do that each comeback would be a dream. surely, the audience might get bored of it, but i wouldn’t and i’m allowed to be selfish, aren’t i? my dream sub-unit, i’d take sooah. without sooah, i don’t know what i’d do, really. she’s like a mini-mom, three years younger. then, i’d take kiana for the dance that sooah and i can’t handle. i suppose i’d add suji in there because i don’t think anyone can belt like she does, no offense to kiana. but there’s a heartier belt when suji does it. sorry to our leader, i guess.”

23. out of the following six options, would you rather be allowed to play a major hand in the lyrics, production, choreography, styling, music videos, or concepts you release?

“i started off in lyrics, so i’ll stay loyal till the end. i’ll keep to the lyrics, so i can continue to write the stories my heart wants to say. sometimes, i’ll fall into cliches, but that’s okay. if it’s not in music production or the general content of the song, i suppose i’d take a dabble in styling — and stop dressing myself in the short skirts making it impossible to dance. really, those are the only two things i’ll be selfish for.”

25. what is your least favorite part of being an idol?

“waking up early, not having enough time to draw — those would just be the superficial things, right? but really, there’s pros and cons to any jobs, just ask any office worker with a nine to five. however, if i’m given a sliver of honesty to wave my grievances, i’d like to mention that i don’t like working in short skirts that get shorter each comeback. i don’t like getting mauled by the public of who i make eye contact with or who i work with — i don’t like getting over criticized and the list goes on.”

26. what is your favorite part of being an idol?

“i’ve always been a story teller. i like crafting stories and telling my world for how i see it, and given this opportunity in music, i’m able to do so. i like playing with instruments, sketching out things for an album idea — the creative process while meeting new people along the way. it’s a journey, an adventure and most of all, it avoids stagnation. i’m on the move, go go go.”

27. would you rather be incredibly famous with a terrible reputation and hated by most or be fairly unknown with a good reputation and adored by those who know of you? why?

“i’m already disliked by most — they don’t like the way i dress, who i’m friends with or the manner in which i present myself. but i’m given the opportunity to ignore these things along the way, and learn to handle things bit by bit. given the choice, i’d rather hide in anonymity with the few around me enjoying my presence. i’ve learned by now, public opinion doesn’t correlate to much as it’s nothing more than a crow perched far away as poe would say.”

29. what have you learned about yourself and/or society since becoming a celebrity?

“i’ve only been taught life skills, such as time management and patience. in hindsight, i’ve learned how cruel people are to judge things from what they see at surface level. the world’s superficial — that’s a bitter pill to swallow. i don’t know much about myself as i haven’t gotten that part figured out. instead, i’ve just learned that the world is cruel and the people in it amount to little to no positivity — go figure.”

[professional-benaddict]

♥️ Red Heart, White Box ⬜️ lV

A collab between myself and @questionablewritings xx

Mafia AU, boss Tony, pet/plaything +18 Peter, bodyguard Steve, bodyguard Bucky, underground doctor Stephen, gun violence, shootings, GSW, body modification, non con organ donation, threats and use of violence, manipulation, gaslighting, 2.1k

Or there is a confrontation and life somehow goes on.

part one - part two - part three

Part lV - The A+ Blood Type

Reaching the ward door, Steve tried to steady his shaky legs. He couldn’t remember being this terrified since going to his first active war zone. It seemed like another lifetime, but at the same time he was right back in that dessert. Although Bucky being at his side remained the same, his trust towards his superiors was not the same. But, he still tried his hardest to enter quietly and calmly. Oh, God, how could he face Peter? 

Luckily, Peter seemed to be fast asleep on his bed, and peacefully at that, with no pained lines on his face nor any fists clenching at sheets. He lay there perfectly still, breathing calmly and slowly. Nothing could disturb his peace, or so Steve hoped at least. Next to the bed, Tony was leaning over with one of Peter’s hands clasped in his own, and his lips brushing over his knuckles tenderly. Without turning his attention away from Peter, Tony spoke to Steve who had entered. 

“What?” 

“Uhm- boss? Strange and the others would like to speak with you.” Steve lied, when actually he was the one who wanted to speak with him. Giving Peter’s hand one last kiss, Tony rose from his bedside and straightened his shirt. His tie was loosened, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“This better be important.” Tony mused as he headed to the door. Steve had to bite his tongue to stop himself from spilling it all out right there and then. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, and brought him back to the present as he followed his boss to the main clinic. 

When they rounded the corner, and Tony lay his eyes on the scene in front of him with all Stephen, Mordo and Wong all tied up, the boss subconsciously pulled out his own gun. His fingers had been itching for it ever since Peter had gotten shot, but he did not point it at anyone. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Tony asked his bodyguards who were clearly at fault for this. Bucky swore he saw Stephen’s lips twitch into a smile behind his gag. 

“Boss, listen.” Bucky started and approached Tony, with gun still in hand, but he held it all relaxed. Their hostages did not exactly pose a threat in their current states of immobility and bondage. “We all saw Peter got shot, right? You caught him when he fell, and you held him until you passed him over to us, right? How could he have hurt his stomach and started bleeding internally from that?”

“Buck, what are you trying to-“

“No, no, listen! That just doesn’t make fucking sense. We found organs, human organs, in the supply closets. These fuckers are stealing organs from the people they are so called helping!” Bucky accused and pointed to the three hostages on the floor. Stephen seemed to perk up a bit at being addressed, and Steve could see that he was trying to escape from his bonds. While Bucky continued, Steve stepped closer and held the gun at Stephen again to keep him still. 

“What are you saying, Buck?” Tony asked. Bucky had to swallow thickly to get his voice to cooperate. 

“Sir, they stole Peter’s kidney.” 

Tony sniffled the air at that and blinked calmly. Bucky did not understand any of it. Why hadn’t Tony shot Stephen and his helpers already?

“Tony, they-“ 

“What makes you think they did?” Tony asked, not fazed at all. Baffled at the question, but still obedient, Bucky went and grabbed the organ transport box that Mordo had brought out. 

“What blood type is Peter?” Bucky asked, but when Tony seemed reluctant to answer, the bodyguard repeated his question. “What blood type is he?!”

“A+.” 

“A+, and what’s in here, huh?” Bucky asked rhetorically, and opened the white box to reveal a human organ in a plastic bag, surrounded by sterile ice. When Steve saw the kidney himself, he gagged a bit, but tried his best to hide it. “A human fucking kidney, marked as blood type A+ and the date when we arrived. Is that not proof enough? Or should we get the doctor to cut Peter open again and we’ll see that he is missing an organ?” 

Bucky was worked up, clearly. There was sweat dripping down his brow and his eyes were wide, like a predators’ eyes during a hunt. But, that did not make Tony the prey, but rather a rival predator. How could he be a part of the pack if he was so unfazed at the revelation that the doctor had turned on them behind their backs and harmed Peter like that? Unless…. 

“You will not tell Peter about this. Ever. Is that understood?” Tony ordered calmly, and both Steve and Bucky felt their shoulders deflate. 

“Boss-“ Bucky started, only to be cut off by Tony bellowing. 

“Is that understood?!” 

“You fucking knew…” Bucky breathed out, like he had been kicked in the chest. And in a way, he very much had been. 

“You fucking asshole.” Steve said through gritted teeth, his gun still pointed at Stephen, but the daggers behind his words were aimed at Tony. “How could you do that? You love Peter! And more importantly, he loves you. He would die for you, and this is how you treat him?” 

“You both know money is tight, so I had to. We’ll be getting fifty percent of Peter’s kidney later today. That is if you release Strange, so he can make the deal happen.” Tony said, and tipped his head down as a command to release the hostages. But, Steve nor Bucky gave in that easily. 

“What? And we’ll be coming back here so that ass can take Peter’s other kidney for even more cash?” Bucky accused Tony, his nostrils flaring. But, the boss took it as a joke and chuckled. 

“I’ll find other ways to use Peter. You’ll all be busy bees soon.” Tony said to both his bodyguards. “Now, release them.” The boss repeated before returning to the ward to see Peter, and this time Bucky and Steve did obey and cut the ropes around Stephen, Mordo and Wong’s hands with their pocketknives. 

All three of the medical professional rose from the floor and shoved the mafia guards away from them, then rubbed at their sore wrists. Stephen was the first to look at the bodyguards after stretching out his arms, and he came up to Steve with his head high again, just as confident as before. Then, swinging his left hand back, the doctor punched Steve square in the face as payback. He would have punched with his right dominant hand to get maximum strength and impact, but that could result in injury to his own hand as well, and that could affect his surgical skills. Still, blood gushed out of Steve’s nose, and the blonde cursed multiple times while trying to pinch his nose to stop the bleed. Once again, Steve tasted metallic blood in his mouth. 

A week later, Peter was back on his feet, at least for a few minutes at a time. Tony was helping him walk up and down the ward multiple times a day, like the doctor had instructed to aid the recovery process. For each day that passed, Peter was looking more and more like himself, and feeling like it too. On the fifth day, he had enough energy to actually get up and brush his teeth. The boy would never have guessed that he would miss brushing his teeth. On that same day, Stephen had made the transfer of the fifty percent that he had promised Tony, and the latter was very much pleased at seeing the four zeros in his bank account. In his good mood, Tony was even more encouraging and outright dotting as he helped Peter walk later that afternoon. 

“Ahh, thanks, Daddy. I gotta watch my step more from now on.” Peter chuckled breathily, and placed a gentle hand on top of the bandage on his side. “I can’t be keeping you from work too long.” Watching the two from across the ward, Steve bit his tongue. 

“I’ll be right here, baby, always. I’m not going anywhere and you don’t have to worry about the money. I got it all covered, so you don’t focus on being pretty, like always.” Tony smiled sweetly in reply and kissed the boy’s temple. That was the final drop, and Steve had to physically leave the ward to gather himself. Out in the hall, he met Bucky and sighed heavily. 

“How do we live with this? Peter doesn’t know shit, and- Tony’s acting like nothing happened?”

“We- we just don’t tell Peter.” Bucky sighed just as heavily. 

And they kept that promise. A month later, when life was returning more or less back to normal at the mansion, Bucky and Steve continued to work for Tony. And so did Peter, or at least as much as he could muster while still healing from his two surgeries. The boy still slept most of the time, but when he was awake, he was always eager to help Tony with his business. 

On one particularly hot summer evening, while Tony was working in his office, Peter was lounging around the mansion in nothing except what seemed like a thong peaking out from under a pair of low cut denim shorts. Steve and Bucky were both stood outside of the office door, in their usual work suits. In the same hallway, Peter was pacing back and forth, clearly eager for his older boyfriend to finish his work so that they could spend some time together. 

With Peter’s torso bare, one could easily see the two scars on his body. The one on his shoulder had knots of skin in the center where the bullet had penetrated, then two straight lines crossing it laterally from the scalpel. But, then there was the perfectly straight line just below his last rib on his left side. Bucky and Steve had been watching that one all afternoon. 

“Do you think it’s ugly?” Peter asked sadly, making Bucky and Steve snap out of their shared daydream, or more like nightmare, about how that scar came to be. And Peter had no idea…

“Oh, God, no, Peter! I’m sorry, I just- I haven’t seen it yet is all.” Bucky covered up as best as he could and let his fingers gently take hold of the boy’s forearm. He wasn’t going to let the boy go believing he wasn’t the most stunning creature on Earth. “You’re a beauty, Peter, you know that?”

“You’re just as stunning as before.” Steve added to comfort Peter. 

“I know.” Peter giggled, looking up at Bucky while batting his lashes. “You said that the first time Tony introduced us.” 

“I believe I said you were ‘fucking stunning’ and then Tony had told me not to speak to you like that.” Bucky chuckled, and Peter giggled along. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle too. The boy made the sun almost look pale with how he was beaming with goodness and beauty. 

“And you didn’t listen.” The boy pointed out to Bucky. 

“No, I didn’t.” Bucky admitted with a shrug of his shoulder. They three of them laughed softly, and for a few seconds life was just like before. Before all that happened. 

“Does it hurt still?” Steve asked and ghosted both his hands over Peter’s scars on each side of his body. The boy shook his head. 

“No, it’s just harder to move still. Like- Tony and I’ll tried it last week, but I couldn’t handle it.” Peter admitted with a nervous giggle. “But, we are going to try again tonight.” He added more hopefully. 

“Just let me know if you need any help.” Bucky said cheekily from behind Peter, making the boy giggle again. But, the boy did not stay much longer since he saw the office door open and Tony exited. Like a puppy, Peter bounced over to him and let himself be embraced by his boyfriend. The boss’ hands held onto the boy’s back possessively. 

“Hey, bambino. You’re dressed lightly, you tease. Couldn’t wait for Daddy to finish his work, huh?” Tony said all condescendingly with a purr, and Bucky and Steve watched Peter lap it up. The boy swayed his hips, and whispered something into Tony’s ear that made him growl and grab onto Peter’s ass, making him yelp then giggle. 

In that moment, Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. They both knew they couldn’t ever leave. Not because they both had a deal with Tony to protect him from his enemies for the rest of their life, but because now they had to protect Peter from Tony. 

Tag list:  @buckettbarnes @prettyboy-parker @starkerplusstrange @sugar-and-spice-parker @xsmallplum @starkerdreams @mynerdrage @kyattogaaru @im-a-slut-for-alucards-belt @sxdnxy-jxhnsxn @suddenlyhotimsuddenlycool @everyonelovespetey @ironspiidey @gipumar @the-secret-avenger @bee-a-garbage-shipper @thewolffearsher @firefandoming @starker-rays​ 

[alounuitte]

cactus blossoms

(or, some can only bloom with water from the desert sky.)

Adam needs some support while he recovers from a surgery, and Shiro volunteers to be his best friend's roommate for the summer after their first year in the Garrison. Somehow, it turns out he's not the only one Adam gets a chance to get closer to, and an operation isn't the only thing he's recovering from. (pre-relationship, but no romance will be in this.)

chapter 8.

Shiro can tell Adam’s worried; all afternoon on Saturday he can barely sit still, nervous energy threaded through him like a live wire. Even while he’s laying on the couch reading, he keeps fidgeting and biting at his nails, his brow furrowed in a frown as his eyes skim the pages of his book.

“You okay?” Shiro asks him, when he sighs and sets down his book for the third time in two hours, climbing to his feet.

“Fine,” he says, but he’s wringing his hands together as he crosses the room to look out the windows at the desert.

“You’re on edge,” Shiro points out, leaning against the counter. “Do you want to do something so you’re not just sitting around?”

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “Like what?”

Shiro shrugs. “I don’t know - play a video game? Go for a run? Finish unpacking your stuff?”

“I’m not much of a runner,” Adam says, shaking his head. “And the other stuff is melacha.” Shiro’s lack of comprehension must show on his face, because Adam glances over at him and laughs shakily. “Um - work, sort of. Things you don’t - Jews don’t do on Shabbat, we’re supposed to relax.”

“Yeah, you don’t seem like you’re relaxing,” Shiro points out. “And I think if you chew your nails down any farther you’re gonna start bleeding.”

Adam’s eyes go wide and he looks down at his hands, grimacing as he examines his fingers. “Oh,” he replies faintly.

“So if you can’t play video games or unpack, what can you do?” Shiro prompts him. “There’s gotta be something that’ll keep your mind busy so you’re not stressing out so much.”

Adam shrugs. “Read, or spend time with family, or friends. Study, or pray, or sing. Playing games is okay, I guess, if they’re not on the computer, or gambling games.”

“Hm,” he muses, considering this. “Like strategy games? I think Sam’s got a chess set in his office. I’m not very good, though, so you’ll probably beat me pretty easy.”

For the first time all day, a genuine smile crosses Adam’s face. “Is he here today?” he asks. “I wouldn’t mind playing a game or two if you can borrow it. Maybe I’ll give you some tips.”

—

Shiro retrieves the chess set from Sam’s office, leaving a note on the desk to say that he’s borrowed it for the weekend, and they sit on the floor and play chess for the rest of the afternoon, talking aimlessly between moves, until the sky outside the windows is melting from blue into pale violet and a few stars begin to twinkle into view above the horizon.

“I think that’s a checkmate,” Adam says as he carefully sets down his remaining tower.

Shiro laughs, leaning in to knock over his king for the third time. “I told you I’m no good,” he says, grinning.

“I think you did better that time,” Adam says as he gets to his feet, laughing a little himself. “Thanks for that, I haven’t had anyone to play with since I got here.” He crosses to the kitchen to grab a bottle of juice before heading back towards the divided bedroom.

“Maybe by the end of the summer I’ll be able to beat you,” Shiro jokes, and stretches, pushing himself up off the floor and trying to ignore the stiff protest in his legs. “I’m gonna get some fresh air before bed, I think.”

“Hey, wait a sec,” Adam says, pausing at the edge of the partition separating their rooms. Shiro looks over at him and sees him shift uncertainly, his shoulders hunched. “Um - I know I said I don’t really like running, but…”

“Yeah?” Shiro prompts him when he doesn’t continue.

“If you’d be willing to wait a few minutes so I can do havdalah, it might be nice to go out on a walk, for a little bit?” Adam says, looking down at the ground. “Just around the edges of base, maybe, if you’d wanna come with me.”

Shiro beams at him, bouncing eagerly on his toes. “I’d love to, yeah,” he agrees. “Take your time, I’ll wait for you.”

Adam smiles back and ducks around the corner to his half of the room, and Shiro can hear him singing softly to himself on the other side of the partition. He stretches while he waits, listening to the indistinct murmur of Adam’s voice as he warms up the muscles in his legs. There’s a good chance he’s going to regret going out on a walk when he’s already been running today, but as long as he’s careful he thinks he can manage the trip around the base, and the fatigue will be a problem he can worry about tomorrow. He takes Sundays off, anyways.

A few minutes later, Adam emerges in shorts and a t-shirt, a half-zipped hoodie thrown overtop to keep warm in the evening chill. “Ready?” Shiro asks, grinning, as he goes to pull on his running shoes.

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, nodding. “Let’s go.”

—

They end up taking one of the trails just outside of base, the dirt track taking them out into the open desert and up along the rocky ridge half a mile east, the red stone painted blue and purple in the fading dusk light.

“Can we stop for a minute?” Adam asks as they reach the top of the rise; he’s panting a little, clearly out of breath from the climb.

“Sure,” Shiro says, shrugging. “I’m following you, man. You okay?”

He nods, sitting down on the edge of a rocky outcropping. “Just need to catch my breath.”

Shiro drops down next to him, stretching his legs out across the path and wrapping his arms around himself, the cool air making him shiver now that they’ve stopped moving. “How are you feeling?” he asks after a long moment of silence.

Adam sighs, leaning back on his hands to look up at the sky. “In general, or about Monday?” he asks with a shaky laugh.

“I mean, both, I guess,” Shiro says. “I know you’re worried, but it’s gotta be exciting, too, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Adam says, and gives him a wry smile. “Maybe once I’m better I’ll start playing sports again. Stuff for fun, I mean, not just training.”

“Maybe you’ll come running with me once in a while,” Shiro teases. “You know, give me some motivation.”

“And get up at four in the morning?” Adam says, laughing. “Keep dreaming, Shirogane.”

--

“I’m going to do something stupid,” he says Sunday morning, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll say some moronic thing and make a fool of myself and--”

“To who?” Shiro asks, bewildered. “Most of the cadets have already left, and we’re not even living in cadet’s quarters for the summer anyways. Who’s going to hear you say something stupid?”

“You are!” Adam says, looking up again in despair.

Shiro shakes his head slowly, frowning. “What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you?” he asks.

“No - well - I don’t know,” Adam stammers, and sighs, slumping back against the couch. “No, you wouldn’t do that. But I don’t - like that I might say things I won’t even remember.”

“You want me to record it?” Shiro offers.

Adam’s mouth twists up as he looks away. “That’s stupid,” he mumbles, his shoulders hunching.

“Okay,” Shiro says, shrugging. “Sorry, I just thought maybe it’d help to be able to see.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Adam asks, quietly, “You wouldn’t show anyone, right?”

“No!” Shiro says, gaping at him in dismay. “Of course I - why the hell would I do that?”

“I… guess you wouldn’t,” Adam says, fidgeting with his glasses. “I just want to be sure.”

“I can send it to you and delete it right away,” Shiro assures him. “After that you can do whatever you want with it.”

“Hm,” Adam muses, biting his lip as he considers this. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.” He hesitates, glances over at Shiro with a frown. “You’d really do that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Shiro says. “I wouldn’t offer otherwise.”

“Okay,” Adam says, and sighs. “If you really don’t mind.”

—

It rains most of the afternoon, but by evening the sky clears, and Shiro can see the sun sinking towards the desert from the open windows of their quarters as he heats up water for tea in the kitchen.

“Is that all you’re gonna eat?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as Adam spreads jam on a slice of toast. “You know you can’t eat anything past eight, right?”

Adam shrugs, leaning against the counter and looking out the window as he nibbles at his toast. “Not really hungry,” he mumbles. “I’ll be okay.”

Shiro frowns, looking over the stiffness of his shoulders, the way his fingers curl and uncurl around the hem of his t-shirt, the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unable to stand still. “If you’re sure,” he says slowly. “Hey, you wanna go up to the roof and see the sunset?”

“What,” Adam says dryly, “you don’t want to run out into the middle of the desert today?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and Shiro laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t want you to wear yourself out before your surgery,” he says lightly as he grabs his thermos from the cabinet. He’s been resting all day, but he’s still not sure he’s up for a run after overdoing it yesterday, and he wants to be in top form tomorrow for anything Adam needs.

“I don't think we're really allowed up there," Adam adds, putting his plate in the sink. "Aren't we going to get in trouble?"

"Nah, I go up there all the time," Shiro says. "Anyways, no one really checks until curfew, and that's not for an hour still."

Adam considers this, frowning, and sighs. "I guess I'll come up with you if you're going," he agrees.

“Great,” Shiro says cheerfully. “Hey, hand me your thermos, it’ll be nicer with something warm to drink.”

He drops two teabags in each of their thermoses and fills them up with water while Adam pulls his shoes on, and they leave the quarters together, heading up to the roof to watch the sun sink into the desert.

--

Shiro is up before dawn to go running like usual, but he ends up thinking better of it today, knowing Adam’s going to need him ready to provide support. Instead he watches out the windows as the sky grows lighter, and is delighted to see splashes of color strewn across the rocky landscape past the outer wall, where the lean, tough plant life has suddenly burst into bloom after the rain.

“Morning,” Adam says as he emerges from his side of the room, his hair still tousled from sleep and his glasses set crookedly on his nose.

“You’re up early,” Shiro says, surprised. “Your procedure’s not for another two hours, is it?”

Adam shakes his head, hunching his shoulders. “Can’t get back to sleep,” he says quietly. “At this point I might as well stay up.”

“Well, on the bright side, you’ll probably sleep plenty from the anaesthesia,” Shiro points out with a wry smile

Adam doesn’t laugh, his shoulders still drawn in tightly, and Shiro’s smile drops from his face.

“Hey,” he says softly, crossing the room to put a hand on Adam’s shoulder, and realizes he’s shaking. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“I know that,” he mutters, looking away. “It’s not like it’s a high risk procedure, or anything, I know I’m just being stupid—“

“Whoa, hold on, I didn’t say that,” Shiro protests. “I don’t think that, it’s okay that you’re still nervous. I mean, this is kind of a big deal!”

“But I,” Adam protests, and breaks off, his hands curled into fists in front of him, his teeth worrying at his lower lip as he looks around the room at anything but Shiro.

“It’s okay,” Shiro repeats, squeezing his shoulder firmly. “I know you’re worried. Just try and breathe, alright?”

He shuts his eyes and focuses on his own breathing, listening as Adam’s slows to match. When he opens his eyes again, Adam is looking up at him, and manages a slight smile when Shiro meets his gaze.

“There you go,” Shiro says, smiling back. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, and laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks.”

--

Half an hour before Adam’s appointment, they leave their quarters and walk down to medical together for him to check in. He’s fidgety and restless, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie to keep them still, except when he reaches up to needlessly adjust his glasses again.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Shiro reminds him when he hesitates outside the waiting room door, and reaches to put a hand on his shoulder.

Adam tenses briefly at the touch, then sighs and relaxes slightly, closing his eyes as he swallows hard. “Yeah,” he agrees, and nods, managing a faint smile. “Thanks.”

“Checking in for a procedure?” asks the receptionist as they enter.

“Weismann,” Adam mumbles without looking at her. “E-I-S, not I-S-E.”

“Got it,” she says, tapping at her keyboard. “Any relation to—?”

“Probably,” Adam sighs before she can finish her question. Shiro raises an eyebrow.

“Eight a.m. with Dr Jordan?” the receptionist asks. “Lauren - oh, wait - Commander Montgomery as your contact?”

“Does she let senior staff call her that?” Shiro asks, amused. “She hates when students call her Commander.” The receptionist blinks at him, puzzled, but Adam laughs, ducking his head farther to hide his grin. Shiro beams.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Adam confirms.

“You’re checked in,” the receptionist tells him. “Dr Jordan just got in, he should be with you shortly. Go ahead and have a seat.”

Adam nods and crosses the room to sit down, Shiro trailing after him. “Thanks,” Adam mutters as Shiro takes the seat next to him. “I think she was gonna ask more about my parents if you didn’t jump in.”

“No problem,” Shiro whispers back, and drapes his arm over the back of the chair, not quite touching him. “That sounds like the last thing you need right now.”

Adam smiles wryly and leans back in his seat, resting against Shiro's arm. His hands curl and uncurl in his lap, restless, and he tugs absently at the hem of his sweatshirt as he looks around the room. When the door opens he sits up quickly, needlessly straightening his glasses as he looks over towards the doctor approaching. "Cadet Weismann, right?" the man says, offering a hand.

"I'm Dr Jordan, it's nice to meet you.""Yes, sir," Adam says, and swallows hard as he gets to his feet. "It's a pleasure."

"Come on back," Dr Jordan says, gesturing to the door, and Adam glances back at Shiro, biting his lip.

"Good luck with your procedure," Shiro tells him, standing to clap him on the shoulder and flash him a smile. "Text me when you're out, okay?"

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling back shakily. "I'll see you in a few hours." 

[onlyyyariii]

My Alpha

Part One

Liana’s point of view

*******

"Hey Madi wanna hang tonight after work?"

"Of course Liana."

Madison and I haven't been able to hang out much since graduation. I've been busy with work and applying to colleges. I really want to go to the University of San Francisco (really don't even know if that's a real school). They have a good acting program.

"Okay I'll meet you at your house, after 5?"

"Yeah my shift's over at 4:30."

"Alright, have fun with your coffee."

I work at a coffee shop. Locally owned of course, but it paid well. Usually I'd work six hour shifts.

"Oh I will. I'll make you a pumpkin spice, if you'd like."

"You already know." she laughs.

"Okay I'm at the shop I'll have to let you go. Love you."

"Love you too.”

I hang up and walk into Coffee Central. Opening the door, I can smell the scents of autumn. Pumpkin, maple, and cinnamon getting stronger as I head behind the counter. I take a deep breath in through my nose. Letting it out when I feel dizzy. Strong arms wrap around my waist as I go to grab myself a cup. I smile and blush, knowing it's my boyfriend.

"Aaron." I say, tilting my head to the right.

His warm breath hits the side of my neck making me shiver.

"You smell good."

"Thank you."

He plants a kiss to my neck, then lets go of me.

"How's your sister doing?"

"Lindsey?"

"Yeah, is she okay?"

"She has a stomach bug."

"Oh."

His sister, Lindsey, is eight years old and when I was over his house a few days ago, she threw up on me. It wasn't the most pleasant thing but I have experience with kids. I used to babysit as a job. A bunch of mom's in the town love me for it.

"I'm going to hang out with Madi after work today. I just wanted to let you know in case you wanted to go out."

"No, I'm hanging out with Jack and Bryant."

"Okay."

[After Work]

I go home and take a quick shower, before changing into some sweats and a tank top. Walking into the kitchen, I'm met with the lovely face of my mother.

"Hi Momma."

"Hey Li, is Madison coming over?"

"We're going to watch movies if that's alright."

"Perfectly fine. I have to go back to the hospital anyways, there's a craniotomy at seven. Before that I have to check in on a few patients."

My mother works in our local hospital as a neurosurgeon. It's pretty cool how she managed to have a kid while going through college and medical school. Not to mention, being the best single mom out there. Her job is really awesome, although she can't tell me the name of the people she works on, she tells me what surgery they'll need to get.

"Cool. So you won't be home til late?"

"I won't be coming back tonight. I have rounds tomorrow morning at 5."

"Alright," I walk over and hug her, "bye Momma, have a good surgery."

"I'll try."

She grabs her bag then makes her way to the front door. Opening it she finds that Madi is about to knock.

"Come in Madison. Wouldn't want you to get cold."

She passes her and walks in.

"Hey Madi ready for a movie marathon?"

"As long as I can pick the movies."

"Okay."

I walk into the kitchen to make the popcorn while she finds us movies. When the popcorn is finished I pore it into a big bowl and bring it to the living room. I pull down the blanket she's set up and slip in beside her. Our couch turns into a bed if you get the jist.

"What are we watching?" I ask, handing her the bowl.

"Harry Potter series, you in?"

"Of course I'm in."

We laugh as she presses play on the first movie. We sit and watch movie after movie until we're on the Goblet of Fire. I yawn and look over at her. She has a blank look on her face.

"Madison, what's wrong?"

She shakes her head and looks at me.

"I'm sorry I have to go."

"Why, what happened?"

"Nothing, I just forgot I was invited to a party."

"Oh."

She gets up from the bed and grabs her jacket.

"Well let me get dressed and I could come-"

"No Liana! Did I say you were invited too?"

"Madi if it's just a party, what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that you always invite yourself places you aren't wanted!"

Tears sprung to my eyes, "You don't want me there?"

"No I don't.”

With that she left, slamming the door on her way out. I walked into the living room turning the TV off and grabbing my jacket. Why would she do something like this? This is so unlike her. She's never like this, at least with me she's not. We've been best friends since middle school, of course we've had our fair share of fights along the way, but this one seemed personal. I lock the door on the way out. A nice walk should do me some good. I walk behind my house to the woods. For years, I have been walking the same path. Taking a deep breath I smell the trees around me. Oak, maple, pine, even birch. I continue walking as leaves crunch beneath my feet. The sound of a laugh goes by my ear. I whip around to look behind me, finding no one. Keeping my head up, I continue to walk until I hear another laugh.

"He's coming!" A girl runs by me laughing.

"You have to hide."

"He'll get you."

I look at these girls as they run by me. What are they talking about? Girls run by me at a fast pace, climbing up trees and hiding behind them.

"What's going on?" I say, lightly.

"The mating tradition."

"Mating... what?"

A girl shushes me as leaves crunch in front of us. I lean against the tree, scared out of my mind. What did they mean mating tradition? I take a deep breath and focus on the smell of maple. Maple is my favorite smell of course. Leaning my head back against the tree I let out a sigh. Terrified to move, I try to be as still as possible. The faint sound of sniffing hits me like a ton of bricks. I'm going to die and I didn't even get to tell my mother I loved her. I didn't get to say goodbye to Aaron or apologize to Maddy for being in her business 24/7. A tear slips down my cheek. I didn't get to go to college and I didn't get to fall in love. I'll never get to experience the pain of childbirth or the happiness of marriage.

Opening my eyes I'm met with a boy. He glances over at me. Running up to me he places his hands on the sides of my face. One hand grips my jaw as the other tears off my jacket. His face goes to my neck as I shake with fear. I try my hardest not to breath. He takes a deep breath, then lets out a groan. A shaky breath leaves my body. The feeling of wet warmth blossoms on my neck. He licked me! I'm shivering from the cold and my eyes start closing from over exhaustion. I feel arms snake around my waist and under my knees. I quickly grab onto whoever picked me up, scared of falling back to the ground. I lay there as the person continues walking.

I awake when I'm placed down on the ground.

"A human?"

"Yes father."

"You're sure, this is the one? It's going to be a hard relationship."

"She is the one. It doesn't matter how hard it will be."

"Very well then. Take her to the house and let Zyrie clean her up."

"Of course."

I'm picked back up into the strong arms and carried once more. I let my head rest against the chest of whoever carries me, drifting off into a light slumber.

+++++

I awake sometime later on a soft bed. Opening my eyes I notice I'm not in my bedroom. So last night wasn't a dream.

"How are you feeling?"

I look to my right at a girl with dark red hair and freckles adorning her light skin. Her blue eyes stare at me with concern. She has a mark between her neck and shoulder in the shape of a moon. It looks like a tattoo.

"I'm okay," I say, my voice still deep from just being woken up, "I'm a bit thirsty."

"I'll be right back with a drink."

"Thank you."

As she gets up to leave I notice the boy behind her. He leans up against the wall. She nods at him before walking out and closing the door.

"Who are you?" I glare at him.

"Ethan Dolan. Son of Sean and Lisa Dolan. Alpha and Luna of this pack."

"Pack? What are you talking about?"

"We're werewolves."

"That's not possible. They aren't real." I say with a laugh.

"They're very much real."

I go silent for a moment. The boy, Ethan, walks over and kneels in front of me.

"Your name?" He asks, with a scowl on his face.

"Liana, Liana Summers."

“Liana..."

My name rolls off his tongue. I shiver as his voice seems to run through me. He gets up and begins to walk out.

"Ethan!" I call.

He turns around and looks at me. His gaze turning into a hard glare.

"What's a mate?"

"A mate means you are my other half. A soulmate, if you will. When we... um mate, I would mark you. Meaning you are mine. You would mark me. But since you're not a wolf I don't know how it would work!" He screamed the last sentence.

My body shuddered in fear and cowered away from him. It was as if I thought he was going to hit me. He glances at me, his gaze softening.

"When we mark each other, a bond will be formed. Through this bond you and I would share emotions. For example when you feel pain as will I, if you're sad then I'm sad. We could speak to each other-"

"Wait so you're saying mating is... having sex?"

"To be blunt, yes. And-"

"Then marking would be... biting me?"

"Yes but-"

"No absolutely not. I do not want you biting me anytime soon. I don't even know you and you already licked me! I have a boyfriend and a life I can't just-"

"Liana stop."

In a second he's hovering over top of me, pinning my hands above my head. I look at him as fear flashes through my mind again. He leans into my neck to smell me.

"You smell like maple and vanilla and fear. You have nothing to be afraid of. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Y-you s-scare m-me." I stutter.

He leans back into my neck and licks me. I let out a shaky breath. I can't say I don't like it. He plants a kiss to where he licked.

"Your heart beats faster when I get near you. I know you feel something."

He rolls off of me and walks out of the room. As soon as he opens the door I notice the girl standing out there. She lightly bows to him and then joins me in the room. She closes the door but I continue to watch it.

"Don't worry about him. He's an Alpha they tend to be intimidating."

"He's my mate, my alpha?"

"Yes, he seems- well his wolf seems to have chosen you."

"His wolf?"

"The wolf side of him is drawn to you."

"Drawn to me how?"

"Your scent smells like everything he's ever wanted. His wolf already loves you, but it may take some time for him to. It's not everyday that a wolves mate is human."

"I'm very sorry. I don't understand this all too well."

"That's quite alright. No one here is going to hurt you, seeing as your the next Luna."

"The next what?"

"You'll see."

*******

Alrighty! This is part one. There are about nine more chapters completed. Let me know if you want another chapter tonight! Also send in requests for Madi and Liana if you have any.

Taglist: @blindedbythelightt @fangdolan @grantzarrr

[shark-myths]

@alienfuckeronmain tagged me to deep-search my soul with these questions, and it is the exact distraction I was looking for! no pressure to do this one, pals, but i tag @carbonbased000 @leyley09 @shoeboxofphotographs12 @glitterandrocketfuel @allkindsofplatinumandpercocet @setting-in-a-honeymoon @toorational and anyone i’ve forgotten!

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? does anyone like blue pens? who is this product made for

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? the city, cuz i spent 7 consecutive years very broke in rural areas with homophobia neighbors and having things to do is so thrilling. but i imagine one day retreating into the desert and living far from my nearest neighbors

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? I have learned all the skills I am interested in right now, because learning new things is an a+ quarantine activity. maybe the ability to do physics? i would like to be proficient in physics and i am deeply not

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Never

5. What was your favourite book as a child? all of them! I have always read like i’m running out of time and often get stressed when i think about how few books i will be able to read in my lifetime. as a child I reread Lord of the Rings and Robin McKinley and the Holly Black Tithe series the most, and i was OBSESSED with those gold-paged books with ribbon bookmarks that were diaries of girls from different historical periods, and i have never been able to read historical fiction since.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? I hated baths passionately until my chronic pain reached a tipping point, and since then i have learned to really enjoy the long hot soak with a drink and a book. (i didn’t like showers either until very recently. life support tasks felt like a huge waste of time until i got a partner who helped me figure out how to enjoy them)

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? i have always wanted to be one of tolkien’s elves! I want a long life filled with learning languages and reading books and existing in green peaceful spaces, and then i want to be able to die when i am done.

8. Paper or electronic books? I like paper better--I’ve been building a library slowly my whole life--but my kindle has been life-saving during the pandemic when i couldn’t go to the library.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? right now i’m doing all my work remotely and clothes feel meaningless, but i have a plain black tank top that i feel really comfortable in

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? I don’t like my name at all--it’s Kaylie--because it is so aggressively peppy and feminine. it doesn’t sounds like an adult’s name; it evokes exclamation points and pigtails. i have always wished for a severe, no-nonsense name like joan, or a pretty but to-the-point name like eva.

11. Who is a mentor to you? Leslie Knope

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? I used to fantasize about being a famous writer, and now in my field i do wish i had a name that mattered or was considered esteemed or expert in something in some way. I would love to have a research job where i had paid time to publish! but i don’t want it enough to work on it outside of my capitalist mandatory labor hours, because i don’t have enough time for my loved ones as it is

13. Are you a restless sleeper? lately yes, since my cat died in january i have slept like absolute hell

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? not really, but i am a thoughtful one

15. Which element best represents you? earth

16. Who do you want to be closer to? physically i want to be closer to my long-distance pals like @alienfuckeronmain @newleafover @time-less @immoral-crow @leyley09 (leyna let’s have a movie night when i’m done moving???)

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? pretty much all my friends i used to regularly hang out with, sam who moved to seattle, sam who lives in madison, all the people i listed above

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. I used to play going to work. i’d pack up a backgammon case as a briefcase, grab my stuffed gorilla, and go write in notebooks and move pieces of paper around

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? I am an extremely boring person and all I eat is popcorn and bread

20. What are you most thankful for? having an able body that works to support me and keep me whole, having a partner who makes me feel truly cared for 

21. Do you like spicy food? yep!

22. Have you ever met someone famous? once at c2e2 i met george r.r. martin and no one else cared he existed because got wasn’t a show yet, so i awkwardly went up to him and proclaimed my love for his work, and then he trapped me in a long conversation about vampires

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? a journal! i have since i was pretty small, they take up a full shelf of a bookcase

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? pen, and i have lots of Special Pens that i only use for a particular purpose or project, because i am a huge raging...

25. What is your star sign? virgo

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? crunchy and without milk

27. What would you want your legacy to be? personally, that I wrote things that meant something to the people who read them; professionally, that i removed barriers to accessing healthcare for trans and gender expansive people

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? see above--I completely adore reading. last book was Sisters of the Vast Black and currently i’m reading The House in the Cerulean Sea and it’s totally charming. I’ve been reading really quality science and nonfiction writing too, please send me your recommendations

29. How do you show someone you love them? I make them breakfast, I tell them so constantly, I send them things in the mail, I bring them small interesting gifts, and I say every nice thought I have about them out loud 

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? not especially, but it’s fun to chew on 

31. What are you afraid of? surgery

32. What is your favourite scent? smoke from blown-out candles, lavender, laundry detergent my loved ones use

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? whatever they’ve told me to call them? this seems like common courtesy

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I do so much less clinical work and work fewer hours in general, I would run for office so I could influence policy and stop wasting my fucking time on the ground level, I would spend more time writing, I would spend so much more time with my family, I would devote the time to running longer distances again in a way that doesn’t aggravate my busted knee

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? the ocean!

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? oh i would definitely spend that on something stupid and self-indulgent i wanted, like a pete wentz hoodie

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? YES! when i was kid every summer i’d be sent to jesus camp, which thank god because that’s what got me into fanfiction, and it was in the middle of nowhere, wisconsin, and you could see the entire milky way and shooting stars blaze across that thing ALL THE TIME, and it shook me to my foundation every summer and for a time i mistook that feeling for faith in god instead of wonder at the infinite being and possibility that is our generous universe

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? i have none of my own but my partner has a 5 year old, so quite against my intention i have become a parent-adjacent person. i try to teach him about emotional accountability for the effect of his actions on others

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? the next tattoo i want is a big snake crawling up my mostly bare left arm

40. What can you hear now? my laptop fan

41. Where do you feel the safest? when i’m protecting someone else

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? my relationship with my body

43. Of you could travel back to any era, what would it be? i’d really like to be a gentleman of leisure in a jane austen novel

44. What is your most used emoji? the purple heart

45. Describe yourself using one word. earnest

46. What do you regret the most? not going to a 4-year university and having a #college experience. it’s one of my most stinging regrets because it was not a decision i got to make for myself

47. Last movie you saw? what is a movie theater? what does it feel like to be in one? the last movie i watched is charlie’s angels from the early 2000s because that was an unexamined sexual awakening for me--lucy liu being efficient in leather has never left me, efficiency is the single trait i most attracted to--and i wanted my boyfriend to see how bad it is

48. Last tv show you watched? either Kipo and the age of the wonderbeasts or star trek tng!

49. Invent a word and its meaning. instead i will say that i think the most beautiful english word is ache. my favorite way of creating things is transforming and remixing what already exists, which makes writing with words someone else invented the ideal challenge and pastime 

(i really loved doing this! it was nice to talk about myself at the end of a workweek. thank you @alienfuckeronmain !)

[coffeewithcalypso]

I guess I could do a proper post instead of after-a-whole-bottle-of-wine-and-health-scare-from-my-cat post. Seriously though she really freaked me out. She started walking almost like she was having a stroke or possibly like she got something on her paw she didn’t like (think the kitten mittens sketch but just one leg). A few minutes later she was running up and down the stairs and acting like I was the idiot for my worry. But she’s like fourteen and all I can think about is her dying and me being all alone in these four rooms. Alright, we’re not off to a good start. I may have to break this up like it’s a real blog or something because I feel like it’s going to be long and disjointed on it’s own.

I think about death a lot. Not in a suicidal way, just in a that’s a thing too way. Which is not say that I don’t love living. Travel, food, wine, friends, there are great joys in being alive. There are great struggles too. Death is a permanent off button. I just wouldn’t have to worry any more. I often weigh both sides of this in my head. I worry a little when the scales of the living side loses something because the death side is a stable weight. “I think about death so much it feels like a memory.” 

The past year and half have been fragile. I spent almost all last year clawing my way back from a break up that I did to myself. I had friends, and travel, and wine, and my cat though, a brief bought of therapy and I started this year feeling much better. I had a year of travel and things planned. None of this is new for people who actually read this. Quarantine happened though and my extroverted self spiraled a bit through but using a lot of what I learned last year I was able to stay pretty stable. 

I got a newer car that maybe I didn’t love but it was going to be reliable and had all the features I wanted. It’s a Subaru and makes me feel like a fake because I hate the outdoors, the sun, and most things related to outdoor activities, particularly in the summer. I tend to change cars every 5-6 years, basically at the end of a note because I’d rather a controlled note than a surprise mechanic bill, but I usually get the same car at least once more. My cars usually feel more like a home than the place I live in. I moved a lot in college. Even at my last place I was starting to let myself feel at home and my landlady kicked me out. Oops, my bad. The universe caught me slipping and fixed it. I can’t move into an identical house but I can get a same or similar car. I think this is also part of my obsession with games like Animal Crossing and Stardew, things with a home element. I just want a home.

I dyed my hair back to brown. I adored my blue hair. It felt right. People complimented me on it. That was nice and made me happy. But I think it made other people happy too. The people who complimented me on it always seemed so excited by this bouncing mop of blue. As excited as I was. I had it for six years and it was getting unhealthy (and was expensive but we’re getting to money). So I dyed it back to my natural color. My dad was excited, so much so he reimbursed me for the cost of the coloring. So now I look like a well behaved, status quo bank teller. I do comfort myself by acknowledging that when I protest now I lend more legitimacy with my status quo hair. I look like a good citizen that politicians would take more seriously, not some blue haired liberal snowflake.

Last month during my yearly exam my doctor said my uterus felt tilted and to get an ultrasound. Within four weeks I was getting put under for a quick outpatient surgery to remove a cyst. I have insurance like a responsible adult. I have a silver plan insurance too. I figured it’s expensive but so is healthcare and I want to be covered. Well apparently the numbers changed this year and I didn’t notice. All the numbers were staggering. To make matters worse a quick surgery turned into a fully invasive surgery to remove endometriosis I never suspected I had. It had spread to my appendix so that came out too. I had to stay overnight at the hospital. Now instead of meeting my deductible I’m assuming I’ll be hitting my max out of pocket for sure. And that’s assuming they don’t find a way to get more money out of me. 

I had a bout of… I don’t want to call it body dysmorphia but of body separateness? after my surgery. I felt so apart from it, so betrayed by it. I didn’t understand how it could do this to me when I feed it healthy foods and don’t get mad at it for not losing weight and generally try to appreciate it and it would just plunge me into debt on a whim. I did some grounding mediations focused specifically on like body scans and stuff. I realized what I was mad at was a for profit system that refused to take care of the people it was supposed to be taking care of but being mad at my body and punishing it was easier but that wasn’t what I should be doing. I still let myself cheat and have some sugar when I knew I shouldn’t have.

And now my biggest thing is money. And I know everything I’m about to say is drowning in privilege so there’s that. But this new debt is all I can think about. I’ve been so fortunate to never be in debt before, other than a car or whatever. I don’t even have a credit card. I’m so careful with money. I save tons to travel because I adore traveling and maybe I should have just been saving but at least I never went on a trip until I could afford it. I was thinking about maybe finally buying a house this year so I could have a sense of home that wasn’t on four wheels. My sister keeps saying to set up a payment plan and then buy a house anyway. But how can I do expensive things when I have this debt hanging over me? I can’t do anything big until this paid off. And god knows when that will be. I was finally, finally at a place where I was comfortable money-wise. Not secure but content. I could buy things without thinking too much about it. Now my whole life feels defined by “can’t”. Everything is something I can’t buy unless it’s an absolute need, no matter how cheap. Can’t buy a $15 top when you could put that $15 into your medical fund. Shame. I know I won’t lose my apartment and my family is probably going to pay for some of my bills and promise I can pay them back and then not let me. I think my dad already gave the hospital some money and won’t tell me if he did or not or how much. I should be grateful for this but really it’s just embarrassing. I’m the failure, charity child now. It hurts my pride and my family is not discrete so literally aunt, uncle, and cousin probably knows now. Yes wounded pride is better than homelessness. I hate it though. I don’t know who I am or what I’m supposed to do or how to exist anymore. I am nothing that I was. I feel unrecognizable

But I’ll be fine. As my grandmother and I say when we’re checking in with each other, “I’ll be fine. What else can you be?” Be fine or be dead. There’s not really another alternative on the living side of the scales

[jawnjendes]

no one can replace me | shawn mendes

university au SUMMER, shawn x goth gf/oc

masterlist | playlist

**let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist

Days off were meant for sleeping in and being comfortably lazy. I slept until 2PM, far later than I ever slept before, and I felt anything but comfortable. The only productive thing I did was move myself from the bed to the couch in the living room, taking the massive comforter with me. Shawn wasn't home, so I was able to binge as much Grey's Anatomy in order to fill the void in my chest as I could. I really thought I would be able to sleep off the void…

I was lying on my side, a dead look on my face, but I was still invested in a particularly emotional episode. As sad as it was to see Jo Karev's life fall to pieces, it felt almost cathartic to cry over that than my own crap. I cried a lot these days, it was very unlike me. However, I still made sure to keep it private. I didn't want my boyfriend worrying about me anymore than he already did.

It was after 5 o’clock when I heard the lock on the front door jiggle, indicating that Shawn was home. I quickly grabbed the remote and switched to some 90s cartoon. The swift movement of reaching for the remote on the table was a deep contrast compared to how I’ve been all day, so it left me winded and fatigued. Although, the fatigue wasn’t just from moving or the cuts on my belly. I couldn’t even sit up to greet my boyfriend.

Shawn seemed unfazed by my potato state as his footsteps were constant through the apartment. His steps got closer, and I saw him standing by me from my peripherals. Wordlessly, Shawn placed a black gift back on the coffee table, directly in front of my line of vision.

The bag was shiny, and had purple tissue paper sticking out of the top. Just the sight of it caused my brows to knit together.

“Why…?” I asked, my voice unnaturally soft.

“It’s a peace offering,” Shawn explained, “and it’s also an anniversary gift. Come on, sit up.”

I didn’t need the help anymore, but Shawn still went to my side and supported my waist as I sat up straight. Then, I leaned over and grabbed the gift bag, pulling out the tissue. Inside was a red box with the white Nintendo Switch logo on. I pulled it out and discovered a pro controller, and my mouth fell open. This was the limited edition, white controller with the Princess Zelda design. I was rendered speechless.

“We hit six months a couple of weeks ago,” Shawn explained. “I think you were in surgery, so we missed it. And I know you love Zelda, and I know you’ve mentioned this controller before.”

“How many oversized bears did you have to fight to get this?” I finally asked.

Shawn laughed. “Well, it was the last one at EB Games. I saw one guy looking at it when I walked in, so I snatched it when he wasn’t looking.”

A small smile creeped up on my face as I stared at the controller in wonder. It was a sweet gesture, given the absolute bullshit that happened yesterday. “Thank you. I can’t wait to use it.” Then I placed the box back on the table. “I have something for you too.”

“You do?” Shawn smiled, pleasantly surprised.

I nodded and got up from the couch. I felt bad about how our sixth month was spent, even if it was all out of our control. Obviously, there was no time to get him a gift like what he had gotten me, but I did have something in mind. I didn’t think we would still be here for this to happen.

I found my black, tattered wallet and went back out to the living room. As cliche and cheesy as it was, I had to say a few words before presenting the thing. “I’m not gonna lie, my pessimistic ass and my mile high walls made me think we wouldn’t make it this far.”

“Good start,” Shawn replied, mildly amused.

“But,” I continued, “I’m glad I was proved wrong, so uh…” I unzipped my wallet and poked around through one of the credit card pockets.

“You’re giving me money?”

“Shut up.”

It took a minute to get the tiny item out of the tight pocket, but I got it. I presented Shawn with a red guitar pick. The label on it had scratched off long ago, but that’s okay. It wasn’t about the condition of the pick.

“A long time ago, I saw Rise Against in concert,” I told him. “It was… honestly, probably one of the happiest days of my life. I went with my cousin, and she convinced me to mosh our way to the barriers. We did, and I got hit in the face on the way, but we made it to the front. I had a nosebleed, and the lead singer noticed that. He actually saw blood all over my face, and he gave me his pick.” I paused. “That pick means a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me, so I figured I should put those two things together.”

Shawn was looking at the pick in the palm of his hand as he listened to my story. The smile on his face only grew with every word, and he was beaming when he finally met my eyes. Then, he stood up, towering over me with open arms.

“I love it, and I love you.” He gently cupped my face and pulled me in for a kiss.

Feeling his lips against mine brought back certain feelings I hadn’t felt in a hot minute. My arms went around his middle, gently scrunching up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the skin underneath. Shawn smiled against my lips.

“Mm, so we’re celebrating our anniversary today?” I asked when we broke apart.

“I guess we are,” he replied, twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers. “What do you wanna do?”

“Quiet night in?” I suggested, wiggling my eyebrows.

He thought about it. “Well… we spend a lot of time between these walls. How about a movie?”

That threw me off a little bit. Shawn never said no to spending the night together between the sheets. But he was right though, we needed to get out of this apartment. “Yeah, we can do a movie.”

~

As much of a homebody as I am, it felt nice to leave the apartment for a little bit. It felt good to doll myself up for a date night. I missed carving out my eyebrows and wearing black eyeshadow. I missed wearing my long, black cardigan and combat boots.

Shawn and I went to the theatre downtown and caught the newest Disney film, on his choosing. That was only because the last time we went to the movies, I made the choice. The last time we went to the movies was also when I started feeling pain, but I didn’t want to bring that up.

I stayed away from literally every food offered at the theatre, and not just because of my mandatory diet. Shawn didn’t eat anything either, so I wasn’t alone. That gave us more time to cuddle on the fancy reclining seats in the theatre. It was pretty much what we would do at home, except we were bound by society’s rules to stay quiet for the duration of the movie.

It was a lovely time. Going to the movies was the one thing to get us out of our heads for a little bit. We didn’t have to talk, we could just be with each other. The mood was light and sweet, and it followed us back into the car.

But, you know… light and dark. Things are always balanced.

Shawn turned on the radio as soon as he roared the car to life. Of course, of fucking course, the Halsey song of my nightmares (as opposed to Nightmare, which is a bop) was in the middle of playing. Things within me turned in a second, and everything lost its color. Half of me wanted to punch the radio into silence, and the other half wanted me to curl up in a ball and let the void take me away. Luca’s words came out of the tiny box in my mind and circled around me.

“I probably know you better than Shawn does. And you hate that, huh?”

My breathing went short again, and I could only hear that directly in my ears. I squeezed my hands into fists, trying to bring myself back to Earth.

“You’re not singing,” Shawn pointed out. “I thought you loved this song.”

I wanted to talk, wanted to explain. But we just had a good evening, and I didn’t want to cry all over it. When did I become such an emotional mess?

I shook my head in response.

He glanced at me every so often, but he kept his eyes on the road. “No, you don’t like this song?” he asked.

Once again, I shook my head.

“Okay, I’ll change it.”

The song stopped, and then Shawn reached for my hand. My mood kept on. My legs felt numb, and my hands felt tingly and weird. I walked carefully when we got back to the apartment, like I was going to dismember myself and collapse. I followed Shawn’s steps, bringing all the grey with me.

“I know you’re a quiet person,” he said as we entered the bedroom, “but this is just weird. Are you okay?”

This would be something I’d take up with Callie, but I was no longer her patient. That was on my own doing, so I couldn’t be mad. There were a lot of feelings built up in my chest, and I couldn’t name a majority of them. That was why I needed Callie.

I also needed to bring my spirit back into my body. Without thinking, I slammed the palm of my hand on the bedroom door. The loud smack! startled Shawn, but the sting caused me to make a face and ground me once again.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I felt like I was floating…”

He was just as speechless. “Uh… do you - should I…?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” I told him, my eyes still staring off into space. “I mean, I do, but… I don’t.”

“Should I be worried?” he asked.

“No?”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, let’s start there.”

We sat at the foot of the bed. Shawn gave me an expectant look, but I was still silent for a moment. Perhaps I was just overreacting and being a little too dramatic.

“I had a conversation with Luca,” I started, suddenly hesitant. “Nothing bad, just… I don’t know.”

“What did he do?” Shawn asked. “I know you said not to worry, but I’m a little worried.”

I explained the inexplicably off putting conversation I had with Luca, rubbing my hands together sporadically. It was probably confusing without know our entire history, but that was a whole other spiel. They say talking it out helps, but I just felt like I was getting crazier by the second. I felt like I was just overreacting.

“Listen,” Shawn said when I finished rambling, “I don’t love that he knows you so well either. I definitely don’t love what most of your relationship consisted of. But you’ve known each other for a couple of years, much longer than you and I have known each other. He’s just trying to get to you.”

“I know. He loves to challenge me. Normally, I don’t care, and I’m used to it, but this one fucked me up.”

Shawn nodded. “Is that why you slept most of the day?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“I can tell when you’re sleep deprived now. Like, you wear a lot of black, but you look… comfortable and at peace with it. When you're tired, or sad... you look like the world ended."

He held his hand open on my lap, and I laced our fingers together. Was this a weird situation? Was it weird to talk about your ex to your current person?

“Can I tell you something?” Shawn asked after a minute.

“Yeah.” I had to stop myself from sounding too eager. At this point, I’d give anything to not talk about me and my shit anymore. I think I was thinking too hard about this whole thing.

He shifted a little bit, the way one does when they’re about to drop some scalding tea. “When I was seventeen, I dated this girl. Well, I thought I was dating her. She asked me to be her boyfriend, but the only time we spent together was in the backseat of her car, or at her house when her parents weren’t home. She really didn’t want much from me, apart from the obvious.”

“She was playing you,” I replied.

“And I one hundred percent knew it,” Shawn added with a chuckle. “But I really liked her, so I let her do what she wanted. I guess you could say that’s one reason why I was never in a serious, stable relationship until now. It’s like you say, I couldn’t trust anyone.”

That was certainly a side of Shawn I hadn’t heard of. He told me he didn’t have much experience with his love life. Then, I found out he slept around much like I did. Now, I found out he had his own version of Luca. Why was I labeled the mysterious one?

“How come you never told me this before?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “We all have things we don’t talk about. I’m sure there’s still things you haven’t told me.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s true.”

“So just know, you’re not the only one with a toxic ex. I know how you feel.”

At least he doesn’t work with his ex. At least his anxiety wasn’t intensified to the point of isolation and self destruction. Plus, it was easier for Shawn to open up than it was for me. His heart was in the right place, though. His big, warm heart made my stone cold one beat a little faster, I knew that much.

"You know how powerless you are being with someone like that," I said without realizing what I was doing.

"Yeah," he said. "You know they're not good for you, they only want you at their convenience, but you'd do anything for them."

Oof, he really does know.

"But," he added, "it feels so much better when you're finally free of them. And it feels fucking great to be in a much better place than they are. Realizing you deserve better is like waking up from a bad dream."

"It's like coming up for fresh air."

Shawn looked at me, eyes sparkling. He now held my hand in both of his. "Meeting you was like coming up for fresh air."

I smiled, and placed my one free hand over his. "I know that quote is from Grey's, you can't fool me."

"Hey, can I not relate heavily to the words of Derek Shepherd?" he said with a laugh.

He wasn't wrong. I related a lot of lyrics from his own songs, but I could tell him that another time.

_____

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @mendesromano @ilsolee @1-800-khalid-mendussy 

[thefernchild-blog]

New Decade, New Page

In February, I hit the big 3-0  Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal.  It’s just a day and year.  But it is really starting to sink in how much has changed over the years.  As of last week, I’ve been with my job for one year, with no immediate plans to make any changes.  I would like to move up a bit to a better paying company within the next 4 or 5 years, but I want to get a few things out of the way before I shake things up for myself financially.  

It’s just crazy, you know? A whole decade ago I was 20.  I was a baby still.  I was figuring out who I am, and what I wanted in life.  Let’s be honest though. I am still figuring all of that out.  I was job hopping.  Pretty much living off of my mother and bad decisions.  My life was basically going no where. Thankfully I had an amazing person come into my life at 21 and she helped me get my shit together.  It was a very unhealthy relationship.  But it is what it is at this point.  

Now I am 30.  I am about to move into my very first place of my own. (It still counts even though I am not paying rent and it’s owned by my brother.  My first time having utilities in my name!) I’ve been a truck driver with my company for a full year.  I have actual job options available to me if I want to switch companies.  I can literally go almost anywhere that I want to for work, with both my licensing, endorsements, and experience.  If nothing else has ever made me feel like a true “grown up”... this does.  I love my career.  I will do this for the rest of my life, if possible.  I have (mostly) recovered from my Top Surgery and Hysto back in December.  This will be my first summer looking more the way I want to, and it’s exciting.  I have a new-to-me Prius.  It’s 15 years old, but she runs like a champ and saves me tons on fuel.  Majorly important due to the fact that I work 60 miles from my terminal.  Things are definitely looking up in so many ways... But I’m still restless.  

Up until mid-January, I was planning a wedding to an awesome woman.  But after my surgery my hormones were off so I was a bit grouchy.  Between that and just being exhausted and worn out from recovering from two major surgeries, I wasn’t really in a place to learn to change in the ways she was asking.  I’m not saying it was 100% her fault.  But there should have been more meeting in the middle, and lower expectations.  It is what it is at this point.  The reason that I bring it up, is because I decided to try all of the dating apps.  I’ve joined facebook groups.  I’ve kind of started trying it all.  I’d love someone to share my life with, but my situation is so difficult and complicated that I don’t feel that it’s fair to bring anyone in.  I care for my mother, aunt, and grandmother.  I do a bunch for my sister as well.  My mother and aunt will eventually live with me.  I am in the process of trying to get them to decide where they even want to live, and whether we want to gut the house they’re in and make it handicap accessible, or if we want to build on some nearby land.  If I can even find some decently priced land that’s livable near us.  My aunt is 65 years old, and this is the only home she has ever known.  My mother on the other hand is willing to leave.  She would pick up and move to be closer to my oldest sister and her kids.  I’d gladly go to Texas with her, but we can’t abandon my aunt.  It is just kind of a sucky situation.  I love my mother and I don’t resent her in any way for me ending up the one handling everything.  It’s more directed at my siblings.  But once again, it is what it is.  

On top of wanting someone in my life, I keep wavering back and forth on whether I want kids.  I know that I can’t biologically have any at this point, and that’s fine. I purposely ended this crazy train right here.  I have some genetic factors that I don’t want to purposely pass on, or risk passing on.  I’m fine with that part of things. I’m adopted and I had a great life, so I know there are other options.  I just don’t feel like it’s fair to bring someone into this mess that is my life, and then expect them to essentially be a single parent. I don’t live in my semi, but I am on the road a ton.  I’m gone 3 or 4 nights a week during the summer.  Yeah, I may be able to make some minor changes to be home a bit more but then that’s a pretty ugly cut in my pay.  

I don’t know where life is going from here. I feel restless, and have a bad case of wanderlust.  I want to go place and do things.  But I can’t.  Because I have this awesome job that lets me afford to do these things, but does not allow me the time to do them.  

There is no real point to this page.  I just want to have someplace in private that I can vent and discuss my feelings with no risk of my family or friends running across my page.  

[reverieinsimlish]

Shift Change

“When they were calling for those three beds from one day, I have to admit I was happily thinking not for us!” Lara said with her usual sassy aplomb and mashing the best button, the one for the ground floor and parking lot.

I leaned back against the side of the elevator and crossed my legs as it started to whoosh down. I felt relieved to get off the floor without getting a new patient whose paperwork would keep me stuck in the hospital far past the end of my 12 hour shift, too. “Yeah,” I agreed, “was worried for a minute they’d bring them up at 18:55 and we’d have to take them.″

She laughed, “They love to do that!”

“And it isn’t even Shelley day!” I added, referring to Wednesdays, when one urologist notoriously turned procedures meant to go home into overnight stays at shift change.

The elevator stopped on the third floor. Two secretaries, going by their maroon scrubs, entered. Middle aged and graying, I knew Molly, since I occasionally had to retrieve special wound dressings from her. The other, I didn’t know. I assumed she must work in obstetrics, a wing I hadn’t visited since the last time I had a baby, almost 8 years ago. 

Patsy, the shift supervisor stood nearby, looking at her phone. “Hold the door a minute,” Patsy said and Lara pressed her stubby thumb with its tomato orange nail polish on the door open button while Molly held her arm in front of the door. 

I had seen the out of order sign, and knew that only one staff elevator was running that day. Two nurses in gray scrubs and cloth caps sewn from pastel printed fabric rounded the corner. Operating Room staff wore that color. They squeezed past the plump secretary into the elevator and Patsy followed. 

One of the OR nurses carried a red bio-hazard bag with a rounded lump about 18 inches long in the bottom. I had just returned from a hiatus this week, and hadn’t met this pair. Curious, I wanted to ask what they had, but I shouldn’t. And if I had, they couldn’t tell me.

“Where you headed with that? Lab?” Lara asked, her finger hovering over the level selection buttons.

“Morgue,” Patsy answered. 

Lara and I exchanged a look. The floor we’d stopped on only housed surgery and, more ominously, obstetrics.

“Is that-- Is that from today?” the younger secretary asked. She had make-up on and her blonde hair pulled into a high pony tail. She stared at the bag with a frown, her eyes bulging.

“Yeah,” Patsy said, with a tone of voice that implied DUH!

A hush fell over everyone, but Patsy just kept thumbing her phone nonchalantly. Suddenly, I couldn’t take my eyes from the bag, trying to judge the size and shape of the contents. When an aging OR nurse had brought back a patient from PACU, I remembered she said that one suite had delays because of a D&C  add on. But the thing in the bag seemed way too big and solidly formed for that kind of procedure. It couldn’t be what I thought it was. 

We all filed out of the elevator and down the hall solemnly and silently. The morgue was three doors down from the time clock, so we all trudged in the same direction. The younger secretary walked right by the clock until Molly scanned her badge and the familiar bing-bong sounded. 

“Oh, Lordy!” the blonde exclaimed, turning around and returning, “I nearly forgot to clock out!”

Patsy and the OR nurses passed us with their burden. The secretary, Lara, and I scanned our badges and made for the exit. I glimpsed Patsy opening a small bottom drawer in the morgue as I went by. Molly beat us all to the door to parking and swiped her badge again and we heard the short beep that indicated the door would unlock for a few seconds. She opened the door and Indian summer heat wafted over us. 

“What did you mean, from earlier?” Lara asked the secretary once the four of us trailed down the ramp.

“Dr. Merritt did a D&C this morning. She hardly looked pregnant, though...” the girl answered.

“Surely they’d treat a baby with more dignity than throwing it in a bag and lugging it out like trash!” Lara exclaimed and hefted her tote higher on her shoulder. I’d worked with her a couple of years, and I could tell she was getting indignant.

I covered my mouth with my hand. I agreed. Every stillborn I’d seen as large as that bag had been dressed. Had photos taken. Spent time in the room letting the family say goodbye. Taken away by morticians in small caskets. But, they’d been wanted. What would they do with an unwanted... body? I’d already made plans to meet friends at the bar after work, but now I thought I might need something stronger than a glass of wine. 

“Oh God! You don’t think that was!.... That?” the young secretary stammered. But we all thought it. It didn’t make any sense, but we thought it anyway.

Every shift in the hospital was emotional Jenga. I built up my defense structure in the morning, then some situation punched a hole in it and more stress stacked right back up on top. It might be a rude doctor or family member. It might be a heartbreaking situation. It might be the overwhelming feeling of needing to be in three or four places at once and only able to be in one. The idea that the place I worked would so callously handle a dead baby tumbled my pieces across the table top.   

Lara suddenly stopped, “Wait a minute! Dr. Easter was doing that BKA! I bet it was the leg!”

I stopped next to her. “The leg?” My eyebrows furrowed. I remembered Wendy said something about needing to get her BKA prepped when she asked me to help her by checking another patients finger stick and hanging an antibiotic. I thought about the dimensions of the bag. “Was she a large lady? Do you know?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “I had her a few months ago when they amputated just the two toes!” 

“They take that to the morgue?” the blonde asked.

“Yes!” Lara shouted.

Molly stopped at the ruckus and turned around. “Yup, that was the leg!” She laughed at us, “You guys are somethin’ else!” She trundled off, still shaking her head.

We started walking again. A leg. I sat in my stifling car waiting for the air conditioning to make it tolerable and cackled to myself . A leg. It was terrible. A woman lost half her leg. It was a tragedy. Still, it was just a piece, and she’d live. I decided wine would work, after all. Somehow, I could stand a leg in a bag.