#i told you it was an issue two weeks after surgery when you could’ve helped me

[snzluv3r]

gf officially went through being gaslit at the doctors with me 🎉🙈 held me while i cried afterwards so that was a nice little touch

[tup-ika-5385]

Knockout Chapter 8:

Chapter Summary:

Assessments are done and plans are made, but one thing becomes clear- they have to get off Kamino.

Fic Summary:

Six months after the trials of Umbara, Tup and Dogma are growing into themselves as well-established members of the 501st. Tup's been training more with Fives and Jesse, set on an ARC trooper promotion, and even Dogma has found a place in medical, where his intense focus and organization are both needed and appreciated.

While practicing for his medic exams, Dogma find some worrying abnormalities in Tup's numbers, making some worrying discoveries. As Tup's condition worsens, help comes from unlikely sources as Dogma, Kix, Fives, and Hardcase fight to discover the truth and save their brother.

Chapter 8:

After another hour in the Bad Batch’s barracks, Dogma had almost acclimated to the smell. Wrecker was doing a lot better, and Crosshair had settled in an uneasy truce, still not trusting this many regs in their barracks, but much less likely to be a threat. Dogma guessed that neither of them liked feeling useless when their brothers were in pain. 

Fives had finally briefed Dogma, Hardcase, and Patch on their current situation after Patch had done a few assessments on Tup, and Dogma’s head was still reeling. Technological components– inside his brother’s head?! Suddenly, the Kaminoan’s response was starting to make a lot more sense, except… when did it get there? 

As batchmates, Dogma and Tup had probably never been separated for more than a day, before their deployment, and even then, something like brain surgery would be pretty hard to hide, even if Tup were trying. And it still didn’t explain the other medics’ reactions, so eager to hunt down a brother without explanation– and an injured one, at that.

Dogma shook his head; he’d go crazy trying to figure it out on his own, especially with his current sleep deficit. Fives had already conked out, sprawled out on the ground like he was still in the middle of a campaign. He’d definitely slept in worse, and Tup hadn’t been far behind him, but Dogma knew any efforts to sleep right now would be wasted, so instead he settled in next to patch and Kix, listening to them go through the assessment results. 

“So, after having Tup do a modified version of the WCPA, and a couple physical assessments, I’d say that physically, he’s well on the mend, and will probably be fully recovered in about a week. He might have some residual balance issues and need more sleep than usual, but he’ll be alright. Mentally, there’s a couple things we’ll have to keep a close eye on.”

He paused, looking towards Dogma, “You remember what we talked about with executive functioning, right?”

“Yeah, it’s starting tasks, planning, and follow-through, right?” Dogma confirmed, relieved to know that his training was already coming in handy.

Patch nodded, “That’s right, and it’s something that Tup’s having some trouble with, right now. The assessment I used had him practice scheduling appointments, training, the like. I asked him certain questions about two and five minutes in, which he’s supposed to ignore, according to the instructions at the beginning, and he was told to let me know when seven minutes had passed, according to the chrono I set up. During the assessment, he scheduled everything correctly, just a bit longer than average, which could’ve easily been exhaustion, but was easily distracted when I asked him questions, and forgot the seven-minute marker entirely.”

He paused before continuing. “There were also a few times, outside of the regular assessment where I noticed he’d have more emotional responses than normal. Correct me if I’m wrong, but Tup never struck me as someone with a hair-trigger anger response.” At that, he looked at Dogma, who shrugged sheepishly. 

Tup had overheard one of Crosshair’s more caustic comments, asking, “What kind of a name is Dogma, anyways?” and hadn’t thought twice about jumping to Dogma’s defense almost aggressively, at least until his eyes started tearing up, and he’d flushed in humiliation. No harm had been done; Dogma could handle a blunt question or two, but seeing the distress on his batchmate’s face had worried him more than a little.

“He’s always been protective of me, but… his restraint is usually a little better, and the tears are unusual.” Dogma commented quietly, eyes trailing down to find his batchmate still fast asleep, taking comfort in watching his chest rise and fall. Sure, Tup used to cry a lot as a cadet, but Dogma hadn’t seen this many tears in a while– not since they were still in their cadet blues, rather than the reds given out to older cadets.

Patch nodded in understanding, rubbing his face tiredly as he talked. “With the brain, there’s a lot of stuff we just don’t know, but it’s likely that he’ll keep having difficulties.”

“For how long?” Dogma asked before he could stop himself.

“Could be a week, could be a month… could be a lot longer than that. It is something we can help with– there’s lots of mindfulness strategies and coping strategies he can learn to use, to give him a little more time to process his emotions. And for the other stuff, he’ll probably need reminders, check-ins, probably not too different from what you’ve already got set up for a couple other vode in the 501st.” 

Patch smiled, looking back to where Hardcase and Wrecker had settled after wearing themselves out. Even before Umbara, Rex and the other commanding officers had already made a habit of sending short written mission briefings to a couple vode mid-mission, Hardcase included, for those who needed a little more help remembering the specifics, and it wouldn’t be too hard to add Tup to that list. 

“He’s got a good support system, and I’ll always be available over comm to make suggestions about what might help, but it’ll be a while ‘till we know more about what he needs.”

Glancing back at Kix, Patch asked, “Do you still have that, uh, tumor? I didn’t get a good look at it earlier.”

Kix nodded, reaching into his utility belt and handing it over with a grimace. “Still can’t believe this was inside of him– makes you wonder what the Kaminoans had planned for it, after Dogma’s unplanned adventure in medbay.”

At that, the group sat in still silence, at least until they were interrupted by Tech. “Is that an inhibitor chip?”

Kix’s eyes widened, “What?”

“An inhibitor chip– they’re utilized by the Kaminoans for behavioral modification. We all have one.” Tech replied, looking bored. “Or, at least, I assume we all have one, but given our deviant nature–”

“That must be why the other medics were acting strange!” Dogma exclaimed before glancing back at Tup to make sure he didn’t wake him. “Nothing else would make sense– medic’s don’t just–”

“Perhaps not in your experience, but I would hesitate to insist that these troopers were not just… following orders.” Tech responded, all-too-familiar with regs responding less-than-kindly to those deemed different; a descriptor that now included Tup, apparently.

His words stirred another memory of Tup, half-conscious and mumbling, “good soldiers follow orders,” prompting another question. “Exactly what behaviors do these chips modify, then?” ‘And why didn’t it work on me?’ Dogma wondered to himself.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too,” Fives chimed in, having woken up from his lothcat-nap, carefully sliding out from under Tup. “Cuz when I looked for information on this so-called ‘inhibitor chip,’ I got nothing– not even a mention or a scanned image, ‘cept the one we pulled from Tup.”

Tech frowned, rocking a bit as he thought. “I am not sure. I did not pursue that line of thought when I first learned of the chip, but I believe I have the data saved somewhere.” He said, before beginning to search through his mountain of datachits and detritus for the second time that night. Hunter looked like he was about to argue for a moment– he was probably the only reason there was a walkable path in their barracks at all– before relenting, just as curious as the rest of them.

“Here it is!” Tech called, pulling out a datachit that looked identical to the others, but with the numbers 02-157 written on the side; it wasn’t an organizational scheme Dogma recognized.

“The file itself was encrypted, which is why I didn’t choose to open it before– doing so would likely alert the Kaminoans, and it’s possible that it would display the datapad’s location as well, so I would wait until you were off-planet to do so.” He cautioned them with a warning look before handing the file over to Fives. 

“We’ll keep that in mind, thanks vod.” Fives gave him a grateful nod, glad to be doing something. 

“That brings us back to our current predicament, though. We can’t stay here, as grateful as we are for your hospitality,” Fives paused, addressing Hunter, who nodded. “But with Tup’s current condition, stealth’s definitely the better option. Even if we get to a hangar, I’d be shocked if they hadn’t already locked down everything with hyperspace capabilities.” He put a hand on his chin, thinking.

“Actually, we might not need one– a ship with hyperspace, I mean.” Patch offered with a grin. “The 104th should still be in-orbit… it wouldn’t be hard to rendezvous with them and get a different ship– maybe even learn more about this chip while we’re at it.”

“Good plan,” Fives grinned in return. “Speaking of which, I should check back with AZ– last I heard, he was looking into potential insertion dates for the, uh, chips.”

With that, he got out his comm and called the droid. “AZ! What’s the status on those scans you were taking?”

“Oh, hello ARC Trooper Five-s!” A cheery metallic voice called, and Crosshair rolled his eyes from where he’d been listening in. “I have been ordered to report to the maintenance bay for a system wipe, but I shall transmit the data to you at once. One moment please.”

“What?!”

“It appears that the Kaminoans do not recognize the social-emotional benefits of doctor-patient confidentiality, and took offense when I did not share the identity of Patient Tup.”

Fives sighed, “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. I don’t get how you can be so chipper about it– if I was being reconned, I’d be furious.” After all, it was nearly the same thing, and the little med-droid had started to grow on Fives, like some kind of invasive fungus.

AZ-3 hummed. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have human emotions– but I do not!” He replied cheerily before something beeped. “The data is now transmitted.”

Kix’s datapad buzzed, and the medic nodded that the data had been received. “It confirms what we knew; that all troopers past tubies have one of these chips. But I still wanna know who has control of them. Nala Se, obviously, but who else?”

“Can’t be anyone good, if they’re trying this hard to keep them a secret. This is starting to smell like a Separatist plot to me.” Fives frowned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Sure, call him paranoid, but since Umbara, it didn’t take much to make him doubt other’s motives, and he’d never trusted the Kaminoans much in the first place.

Turning to Tech, he asked, “Tech, could you– is there any way to change AZ’s–”

Tech hummed an affirmative, tapping away at his datapad. “Already done. The system will register the droid as already having been wiped– assuming its number is the same one registered to that comm device, and it should be free to return to its duties.” He said, adjusting his goggles. Hunter might not like it when he intervened, worrying he’d get in trouble with the Kaminoans, but Tech found great satisfaction in disrupting the Kaminoan’s plans, even just a little.

“Hear that, AZ? You should be good to go. Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Care is not required, as I am a droid. Goodbye!” AZ-3 replied, cutting off the comm channel abruptly, earning a weary chuckle from Fives. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

He turned towards Hunter and the rest of the Bad Batch, who had already done so much to help clones who were practically strangers to them. “I know I have no right to ask this of you– you’ve already done so much to help us, to help Tup, and we couldn’t be more grateful. I know us ‘regs’ haven’t treated you well in the past, but you and your squad have treated us with kindness we haven’t earned. If you ever need anything, you are welcome with the 501st anytime.” 

He drew himself up into a firm salute, which was mirrored by the other conscious troopers– Hardcase and Tup were still fast asleep. Hunter nodded his head in acceptance, giving them a rare smile. “I’ve gotta say, it’s been nice spending time with regs who aren’t about to throw down with one of my brothers.” 

He glanced at Crosshair for approval, knowing if he didn’t, he’d be hearing about it for the next month. Thankfully Crosshair shrugged, glancing at the regs as if to say, ‘Whatever gets out of my space soonest,’ so Hunter turned back to Fives.

Despite a few bumps in the road, this was probably the most peaceful interaction his squad had ever had with the regs– and these ones actually saw them as vode, which was parsecs above what he could say for most of the shinies still on Kamino. “Now, what did you say you need?” Unfortunately, the Marauder was still undergoing repairs after their latest mission, so they couldn’t just give them a ride.

Fives grinned. “We could use a distraction…”

___________________

Turns out, the Bad Batch had a plan for exactly that, and within ten minutes, their squad was heading towards the nearest hangar completely unobstructed. With the combination of Tech’s computer skills, Crosshair’s pinpoint accuracy when it came to identifying and shutting down cameras, and of course, Wrecker’s ability to draw attention wherever he went, it wasn’t long before they were in possession of a small ship that wouldn’t be missed for 24 hours. 

They were home free– assuming they didn’t crash along the way.

“I thought you said you knew how to fly!” Patch yelped, his face a ghastly shade of green as he tried to keep his breaths even as he resolutely refused to look out the viewscreen. His aviophobia had gotten a lot better since his posting with the 501st, but this– he cursed as Hardcase made another loop and a muffled “Oops,” could be heard in the cockpit– was not flying.

“I’ve flown before!” Hardcase shouted back, dodging the last of the sensor arrays as they made their way up into the atmosphere. He twisted the ship around a few more times for good measure, hoping to keep the Kaminoans off their scent, and Patch’s heart stuttered with every jerking movement.

“Umbara categorically does not count!” Dogma griped, inclined to agree with Patch. The sooner they were back on firm ground, the better.

“I mean I’ve practiced some with the General, he’s been helping me to–”

“Watch the controls!!!” Kix cried in despair as Hardcase pulled up on the brakes and they definitely left a mark on the 104th’s hangar floor.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” Hardcase called as the ship came to a full and complete stop, probably smoking a little bit, but otherwise in one piece. “There!”

Kix let out a relieved sigh, clutching his chest. “Remind me to never fly with you again, vod.” He said before walking out the exit ramp, giving a hand to Patch when his legs shook, still looking more than a little green.

“You good, vod?”

Patch let out a slow breath, only just managing to hold down his rations while he nodded. He wasn’t usually one prone to space-sickness, but at least he had an excuse for not noticing their audience until he nearly ran into Commander Wolffe. “Easy there, Patch.” 

“Wolffe!” Patch brightened immediately, leaning in to clasp his brother’s wrist, receiving a hearty thump on the back.

“It’s good to see you, vod. Welcome home.” Wolffe rumbled softly, drawing him in.

Patch choked up a little bit, responding just as quietly. “It’s good to be home.”

It’s been more than a year since he was back with the 104th, and even with everything else going on, it meant so much to be here– and to be with his brothers again, so he took a moment to settle in Wolffe's firm grip before pulling away. 

He glanced around, noticing their little welcoming party included most of the Wolfpack, as well as General Koon.

“Thanks for letting us crash here, General.” Hardcase joked, watching as the landing crew gave the ship one last spray with a fire-extinguisher. “We’ve heard a lot of good things about you, sir.”

“You are most welcome, young Hardcase. It is an honor to meet Patch's brothers from the 501st.” General Plo offered, smiling under his mask as he greeted the group. “Come, I hear we have much to discuss.” He said, beckoning them forward so they could share what they learned.

____________

AO3 Link:

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Light Under The Door

MAJOR TW FOR SELF HARM!

Au where Deku dies oops-

Warnings: angst, self harm, main character death

You first realized something was wrong when he wore long sleeves at home as well as at work. Usually, as soon as he got through the door, he’d ditch that uncomfortable looking yellow suit and don one of his much-too-large shirts, or sometimes even just skip into his flannel pajamas. 

For a good week, though, he had been choosing to wear his loose fitting winter shirts to bed and even while he relaxed at home. 

That wouldn’t have been overly strange on its own, all except that it was in the middle of summer. 

That, and he’d always slink away when you grabbed for his wrist or sleeve. He’d pretend as if it were nothing, and you believed him. 

That was until you got home from the store a little earlier than expected. His car was outside, so he was definately home, but the house was utterly and totally silent. 

You should have at least been able to hear him clicking away at his keyboard, or sipping some tea, or watching television. 

You silently placed your bags down, approaching the bathroom door quietly. You heard quiet hisses and hiccups from just beyond the door. 

It was unlocked and open a crack. You knocked quietly, calling out to him.

“Toshi, are you alright?”

He gasped, dropping something and audibly scrambling for the door. 

He peered out of the crack and into your eyes. 

“I’m fine,” he breathed, flashing a fake smile. He tried to close the door the rest of the way, but you put your foot in between the door and the frame, stopping it. 

He didn’t fight back. As you entered the scene, he hunched himself against the wall and covered his face. All he was wearing was a pair of boxers.

Your breath hitched as you saw what was going on. Upon seeing the abandoned razorblade and tiny droplets of blood, you knew.

"Don't...don't say anything. I already know," he grimaced, shaking his head. He’d struggled with self harm before, way back in his youth, but thankfully kicked the habit. Well, for the most part. One thing he always hated was being scolded for it, or being told how utterly stupid he is for doing something so harmful to himself.

It just reminded him of how he lets them down. How he let you down. Himself.

Him.

You held back tears. It's your turn to be strong now. For him.

You firmly grabbed him by his upper arm.

"Baby, look at me. Look at me," you breathed shakily. He did so, revealing his tear stained, ashamed face. He'd been hiding this for a long while. You could tell that much by the look in his eyes and his clenched jaw.

Your heart panged. This isn't him.

"I...I know you think..." He warbled, his voice cracking before breaking again.

"I don't think anything, baby boy. It's okay. It's alright. Just breathe for a second for me, okay?"

He slumped pitifully into your embrace, letting himself sob relentlessly into your shoulder. You weren’t exactly sure what to do with his bloodied body other than hold him there, for a moment or two. 

His upper thighs, which you’d expect to be pale and pasty like the rest of his body, were instead covered in shades of reds and pinks where he had freshly harmed himself, and in browns and purples where he had allowed the lines to scar over. 

His arms, too, were covered with these sickeningly familiar scars as well as freshly bloodied lines carved across his flesh. 

He’d definitely been hiding this from you for a while. A long while, at that. 

You whispered in his ear, “Oh, baby...you don’t deserve any of this...”

He clutched at your clothes, balling up the material in his fists.

“you...you wouldn’t say that if...” he let go of you.

 He couldn’t escape it. The scream. The blood. The utter helplessness.

His face.

He hit himself in the head, trying to knock the memory out of his mind.

You grabbed both of his wrists. This utter violence would have scared you anyways, but with it directed towards someone you loved so much, it was terrifying.

“I’ve killed people! They’re dead!” he screamed.

“You didn’t kill anyone, Toshinori! What-”

“No! They-he- died right in front of me!” he sobbed, collapsing into the floor in front of you. 

He gritted his teeth. 

“I couldn’t even show my face at their...at his funeral...” 

You held in your own cry, remembering when it all happened. It was so fast. No one could have predicted it. 

In the end, the boy had saved a classmate, but at the cost of his own life. 

Toshi was at the scene, screaming for him, but it was too late. He was gone in an instant. 

For weeks afterward, he didn’t leave his bedroom. He barely ate. What he did eat was just what you’d nearly force down his throat to keep him breathing. He just laid there, in the bed you shared, with the curtains drawn and his phone turned off, for entirely too long.

It absolutely killed you to see him like this. What killed you more, though, was when the boy’s mom wouldn’t stop calling, texting, and even knocking at the door. She would sob words of forgiveness, begging you to please tell him that she wasn’t angry at him for breaking that promise they made not so long ago. To tell him that something like this would’ve happened even if they’d never met. 

To tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That she didn’t blame him.

But no matter how much she pleaded, you just couldn’t talk to him about it. Whenever you so much as brought up her name, or mentioned anything alluding to...him...Toshi would just break down.

Just like he was now. 

You took his face in both of your palms, gritting your teeth and making him look at you.

He could barely see you holding back tears of your own through his blurred eyes.

“It was not your fault.” You asserted.

“...but-“

“It was not your fault.”

“I could have... he...”

“No. You didn’t kill that boy. Nothing you could’ve done would have stopped what happened from happening.”

Toshinori looked into your eyes, replaying that scene in his mind.

He couldn’t have magically teleported in front of that car. A healing quirk, nor any amount of surgeries or doctors could have undone the severe internal damage that it caused.

It was an utter accident.

He closed his eyes, squeezing the memory out of his brain. The blood was what haunted him the most. It was everywhere. More than he’d ever seen in his entire life, even being a pro hero for a good portion of his life and seeing horrific crimes.

The boy’s eyes glazed over mere moments after the collision, not even able to speak or respond to the rush of people surrounding him. Toshi had to essentially fight his way between the hoards of onlookers to get close to him. To stroke his cheek. To tell him that it was okay to go.

That he was a hero.

That he was proud of him.

He closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath and holding your hand to his chest. Your heart ached as you noted his shaky, skinnied fingers.

“You don’t deserve any of this, honey,” you repeated, bringing his head to your chest and stroking his hair. He was done crying. He just needed you.

His breathing calmed down after a good while of keeping him there, just existing with him for these moments without criticism and without judgement.

“Toshi, can you let me clean you up a little?” You murmured. He nodded silently.

“But... please don’t... I-I... just...” he muttered as you stood up.

“I’m not going to judge you, baby. It’s okay. I’m going to make sure you didn’t go too deep, and just help the bleeding stop. I’m not going to judge you for anything,” you assured him. His lower lip quivered and he nodded again. You left, grabbing the first aid kit and a bottle of water.

First, you handed him the water, instructing him to drink. He tried to refuse at first, protesting that he was fine, but after a little coercion, he took a little sip. Later, that sip turned into thirsty gulps. The bottle was nearly empty when he was done.

He was definitely thirstier than he thought.

These days, it was easy to ignore what his body needed. Hunger passed eventually, and so did thirst, and so did pain. Rather than deal with the issue, he’d usually just ride out the discomfort. He just couldn’t find it in him to care anymore.

So, for now, you had to do it for him.

You gently inspected his wounds. You sighed with relief as you noticed that he hadn’t gone deep enough to need a trip to the hospital for stitches.

He winced as the astringent met with his raw flesh, but you were there to soothingly comfort him with gentle touches and praise.

Soon, he was all bandaged up. He looked up at you, reaching for your cheek. He mouthed a thank you before placing a tiny kiss on your other hand. You kissed him on the forehead in return, helping him stand up and walk into the bedroom, assisting him to ease under the comforter and switched off the light before joining him.

You two coiled into one another, each warming the other’s body gently. Your breaths synced up harmoniously as you both drifted into a much needed afternoon nap.

When you woke up, there was no interrogating. No demanding to know where all his razor blades were hidden. No begging him to seek therapy.

You knew what struggling was like. None of that would help in the end. It’d only push him deeper into his own darkness.

So you settled on doing what you felt that you needed when you were in the same place he was: simply being there for him, and being ready with open arms to take on his problems when he couldn’t bear them any longer.

And he couldn’t.

Not on his own, anyways.

———

The next morning, when you woke up, Toshi was waiting for you in the kitchen. He’d already made you your favorite coffee and some honeyed toast.

After you ate, he gently took your hand.

“Will you help me with something?”

You nod, smiling sweetly.

He looked away. Shame burned his soul.

“They’re hidden in the medicine cabinet, in a box all the way in the back. Please, can you... get rid of them for me?” He whispered. You nodded.

“Are there any more?” You gently question. He shook his head, sighing.

“I’m really sorry for all of this trouble I’ve put you through...” he apologized. He was trying his best to stay strong, to appear okay and unbothered, but his voice was already cracking a little.

You shake your head.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m happy I can be here for you. I’m going to go take care of that for you now, okay?”

He nodded.

———

Recovery was slow but steady. You never asked if or when he relapsed, but when he’d lock himself in the bathroom, you couldn’t help but freeze and wonder if he was hurting himself.

But soon, his scars started to heal. He began wearing t shirts again. He started to laugh a little bit more.

And finally, he took Inko’s call.

You didn’t hear their full conversation, and you didn’t wish to eavesdrop. What you did know, though, was how different he was once he hung up from that call that lasted a good three hours.

He was lighter.

It was as if he’d been carrying an earth shattering weight on his back for centuries, and finally was just able to put it down.

He slowly became himself again, the darkness fading away at the touch of the warm sunlight within him.

——

[tsrookie]

This Is Me Trying

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Alyssa Brooks)

A/N: Hey everyone! Soooo I was actually planning to scrap this fic, since I seriously couldn’t think about practically after Chapter 11. But then Chapter 12 came out, and boom! My brain finally decided to finish this! @kaavyaethanramsey Thank you so much for pre-reading! And a special thanks to @openheart12 for being totally chill with me taking this song for inspiration even though she had plans to do the same!

Song Inspiration: This Is Me Trying by Taylor Swift. I’m going to do some shameless promo for Taylor since her label ain’t bothering with that🙄

STREAM FOLKLORE!

Word Count: 3600+

Warning(s): One curse word

Summary: My version of Ethan’s thoughts after the MK heist. This man is NOT EASY to write!

——————————

Edenbrook was mostly quiet during the night shift. Most doctors left as soon as their time was up, not wanting to spend any more time in the hospital than they already had to.

But that wasn’t the case for a certain diagnostician.

The lamp on Ethan’s desk shone with a clear light in a stark contrast to his confusing thoughts. His mind was clouded. Clouded with thoughts of her.

Dr. Alyssa Brooks, the one he had hand selected from a thousand applications, the resident who had taken Edenbrook by storm as just a mere intern, and the woman who now held his heart.

He’d kissed her twice in less than two days. He couldn’t be the emotionless robot he had pretended to be for 10 years. He wanted to throw away everything to just hold her in his arms without a worry in the world. He didn’t want to just stand next to her. He wanted to be with her. But he had no idea how.

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting

I had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting

I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back

I have a lot of regrets about that

His mind automatically took him back to one of the most painful nights of his life: The night he’d returned from the Amazon.

“You’re an idiot Ramsey. An absolute moron. You know she’ll be there, then why the hell are you going there?!”, he’d scolded himself as his legs, as though they had a mind of their own, took him to Donahue’s.

He had no idea how she would react to seeing him. He was, after all, the man who was a complete coward and ran away from her and his feelings for her.

He wouldn’t have blamed her if she was in the arms of that scalpel jockey. At least he would treat her the way she’d deserved to be treated. Unlike him, who only knew to run. He had hoped that she would’ve buried her feelings for him.

The look on her face said it all. The pain, the betrayal, but also the care and concern, was plain to see in her brown doe-like eyes. Two months apart had done nothing to help either of them. He’d still cared for her way more than a mentor was supposed to care for a mentee. And then she’d kissed him.

In those few seconds, he’d felt more air in his lungs than he had ever felt in two months in the Amazon forest. He’d desperately wanted to kiss her back. He’d wanted to let her know that he cared about her more than she could possibly comprehend. But he didn’t.

It almost killed him to tell her that they had to reset. But he didn’t know what else to do at that point. That would forever remain one of his biggest regrets. He’d put them both through so much of pain that he could never forgive himself. He’d hurt her so much. Yet, she’d never given up on them.

He shook his head to bring himself back to the present. He looked into his wristwatch. 12:30 am. It was past midnight. He had to go home as he was past the point of trying to get any work done.

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout

Could’ve followed my fears all the way down

And maybe I don’t quite know what to say

But I’m here in your doorway

He drove out of the hospital and his eyes caught a flash of red walking on the pavement. “Alyssa?” She whipped her head around, recognizing his voice. She looked exhausted, but he wouldn’t blame her, knowing the day she had. Her ginger roots were all over her face and her clothes were completely wrinkled.

“Hey Ethan...”, she croaked in a raspy voice.

“Why on earth are you walking home? I thought you always took the train.”

“The station seemed overcrowded. Wasn’t in the mood to bump into any frat boys.”, she chuckled lightly.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.”, he said. She opened her mouth to protest, but decided against it seeing the deadpan look on his face.

Her eyes were trained on the road. He glanced at her a couple of times but it didn’t seem like she noticed. She didn’t seem as lively as she was after they’d returned from Mass Kenmore. Something was nagging her, and he was determined to find out what.

“Is everything okay?”, he asked gently, not wanting to push her.

“Hmm... yeah it’s fine... everything’s fine.”, she replied unconvincingly.

“Alyssa...”

He took her hand in his and pulled over at her doorstep. “What’s wrong?”, he asked again, looking straight into her eyes. They were glassy and rimmed with red. His eyes slightly widened, realizing that she had been crying.

“It’s... a lot Ethan. First, it’s Kyra. She’s going to have major surgery. An extrapleural pneumonectomy. It could either save her, or...”, she trailed off, biting her trembling lip. He held her hand tighter, to try and give her the strength to continue. She took a deep breath and continued.

“I’m terrified about what could happen to her. I know I said that I could handle it this morning, but having her in this literal life of death situation... I just can’t”, she choked out a sob.

He immediately wrapped his arms around her on instinct. Her fragile frame trembled as she cried into his shirt. His heart broke to see her like this. He knew that Kyra had a slim chance of survival, but seeing the impact on Alyssa was too much to bear. He’d been through the same situation when Dolores died, and she’d helped him get through it. No matter what was to happen to Kyra, he was going to stand by her side through it all.

“And Raf...”, she suddenly said in receding sobs. “Raf’s leaving town and I have no idea why. It’s completely out of the blue and I’m really worried about him. He hasn’t been the same since the beginning of this year, and now he just decides to leave Boston.”

Ethan was surprised as well. He had known the paramedic only for a couple of months and even he was surprised at his decision to leave. He seemed to love his hometown and it seemed completely out of character for him to leave like this.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know that she was going through so much. It hurt him beyond anything to see her in her most vulnerable state.

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

“Alyssa, I...”

He searched for the right words to say. He had comforted plenty of patients in the past, but nothing had prepared him to hold Alyssa in his arms.

“I know that I can’t take all this away, no matter how much I want to. But if you ever need anyone to talk to, or just want me around, I’ll be there. That’s a promise.”

He owed it to her. He owed her the world and more. She’d stood by him and been his rock through all his issues with his mother. He wanted to be there for her. He had to at least try.

“Thank you Ethan...”, she said with a soft smile that was enough to light up his whole world. He reluctantly let her go with a kiss to her hand. “Sleep well Alyssa.”

They told me all of my cages were mental

So I got wasted like all my potential

And my words shoot to kill when I’m mad

I have a lot of regrets about that

His lips still tingled from touching her hand. “Heaven knows how I’m going to keep up this pathetic act.” As he drove along the nearly empty streets, his mind went back to the most stupid decision of his life...

“You can’t live life like this Ethan. You can’t keep isolating yourself from her.”, Naveen had told him when he had made the foolish decision to run away to the Amazon. The old man had always known what went on in Ethan’s mind. There wasn’t a day where Naveen hadn’t chided him for locking himself up in his own cage. But he didn’t know what to do. His walls were up too high for anyone to climb over them.

But then Alyssa barged into his life. She broke into the invisible cage he had alienated himself in. All his high walls came up short for her. No one else had broken through his soul like her. He watched the walls he had built for over twenty years come falling down for her.

But despite all that, he had majorly screwed up. He had been nothing but rude and cold for weeks in her second year thanks to Gwyneth Monroe and Leland Bloom. He was furious at the board, but deep down he had known that the team would change a lot due to the budget cuts. He knew that it was completely unfair to direct his anger at her and everyone else in the hospital. But he didn’t know what else to do. His values and Naveen’s vision had been compromised, and that clouded his mind from thinking of anything else.

The regret and guilt in her eyes had pained him immensely. As time passed, he had accepted the fact that the fault wasn’t hers and that he was truly thankful to her for making the decision he was dreading. But he had no idea how to tell her all of that. His words and actions had hurt her and there was no going back and changing them. And it wasn’t even the first time. Hurting her repeatedly was all he ever did.

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here

Pouring out my heart to a stranger

But I didn’t pour the whiskey

He remembered his days from med school. After Tobias had betrayed him by stealing Serena Jane, he didn’t bother with romance. He completely submerged himself in his studies. His peers found true happiness and love while he had accomplished more than anyone could have dreamed of, but stayed unhappy.

Whenever he opened up, he would just go through a world of pain. Tobias was the only person who he had truly trusted. But then he had stabbed him in the back in every way possible. He hadn’t planned to let Naveen in, but the old man had become like a second father to him. And then he had nearly died, which had terrified Ethan more than he had let on. He shouldn’t have let anyone in after that.

But then there was Alyssa.

His Rookie. He knew damn well that that nickname had become a term of endearment. That was why he rarely called her that after her second year began. He didn’t want to get her hopes up only to hurt her again.

He fell asleep with all these thoughts tormenting him.

The next day was pretty dull. He hadn’t seen her in the morning since the team didn’t have any new patients. He knew that she was probably working on Kyra’s case in her free time and didn’t want to impose. By the end of his shift, he was questioning his decision to even show up at work as it was incredibly tedious and monotonous without Alyssa by his side.

He found himself sitting at Donahue’s, with his eyes flicking to the door every once in thirty seconds in hopes that she would walk in. “You look like you haven’t slept properly in days”, said Reggie’s voice. “I mean, I know you’re busy as hell, but you at least used to look like you were a normal human back then.”, he chuckled. Ethan let out a heavy sigh as he stared at his untouched glass of whiskey. “You okay?”

Ethan considered Reggie to be a... good acquaintance, which was more than he considered three-fourth of the people in the hospital to be. But was he about to pour his heart out to him?

He looked down at his full glass and realized he didn’t even need the alcohol to express his agony. He just couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s... Alyssa.”, he said as his eyes filled with pain.

“Tell me.”, Reggie said as he leaned on the bar countertop.

“I don’t know what to do about her. She’s a brilliant young doctor and my mentee. She has the skill and potential to become one of the greatest doctors the world has ever seen. And I need to push her to be that. Caring about her... that’ll get in the way. I might start being lenient with her if I’m with her. And I don’t want that to hinder her development...” He trailed off as a lump formed in his throat.

Opening up like this brought the bitter truth to light. There were too many professional obstacles for them to be a normal couple. But those were nothing compared to their emotional issues.

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

At least I’m trying

He took a deep breath as he continued, “I don’t even know why she would want me. I’ve done nothing, absolutely nothing but cause her pain from the very start. I was the one who first kissed her. I was the one who lead her on. I was, sorry, am the coward who broke her heart by running away to the Amazon. I dragged her into the mess that is my personal life. But she still wants to stay. She’s by my side whenever I need her and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay her for everything she’s done for me.” He choked out a small sob. He loathed himself.

She was the last person on the planet who he ever wanted to hurt, but that was all he had ever done. Trying to make up for all that pain seemed nearly impossible.

“I don’t deserve her Reggie... I just don’t. I don’t even know how I fell in so deep. It all just... happened. And now I’m stuck in a dilemma where I need to be the best mentor I can be for her but I also can’t live a life without her as something so much more than just my mentee! I want her to be my-”

He stopped as he suddenly realised what he was about to say. He was about to admit that he wanted her to be his girlfriend. He wanted an actual relationship with her.

Reggie smiled knowingly at him. “Say it Ethan. Say it out loud so that you can finally accept it for yourself.” “I... I want to be in a relationship with her.”, he said. He let out a breath that he didn’t realized he’d been holding. He felt free.

And it’s hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound

It’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you

You’re a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

He suddenly heard a laugh. Her laugh. His favourite sound in the whole world.

He whipped his head towards the source of the sound and sure enough, she was there. She was in the middle of what seemed like a drunken dance off with Lahela. But he didn’t look even half as drunk as Alyssa. Her eyes were hooded and worn out. Her clothes were all wrinkled up, but she didn’t seem to care at all, which was quite a surprise.

Something told him that she had overworked herself and was drinking to combat the exhaustion. But the way she moved made him feel otherwise. The way her hips swayed slowed in the dim light of Donahue’s sent his thoughts into the gutter.

His mind flashed with memories of the night she had won her ethics hearing. The way she had flashed a lopsided grin at him when he’d lied to a resident while leaving the bar. Her incredibly messy yet perfect room. The night they’d last slept together. The night he’d last felt her body perfectly intertwine with his. It all seemed like nothing but a distant memory now, with all that had happened. But he could never forget that night, no matter how hard he tried.

He let out a sigh as he looked at Reggie. “I think it’s better if I left now... It’s for the best if she doesn’t notice me.”

“Too late for that, since your Rookie is on her way to the bar right now”, came a reply with a smirk. Ethan let out a frustrated sigh, but he found himself unable to suppress the slight smile on his face as she made her way towards him.

“Ethaaan! What a *hiccup* wonderful surpriiise! I had noo idea you’d *hiccup* be here!”, she said in a singsong voice.

“Dr. Broo- Alyssa, what exactly do you think you’re doing near the bar in this state?”, he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Juuuust a few more *hiccup* drinks. I’m purrrrfectly fine.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. It seemed like it was now up to him to make sure she could at least walk straight.

“No. You are not having any more. I can’t handle a hungover member on my team when the Senator arrives.”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“Actually I am.”, he smirked as he ushered her out of the bar.

And I just wanted you to know

That this is me trying (Maybe I don't quite know what to say)

I just wanted you to know

That this is me trying

The cold Boston air hit them in the face as they got outside. Winter was coming, and it seemed that his favourite resident had forgotten to bring a coat to combat the chilly weather.

It didn’t take him more than a second to realize she was shivering. Wordlessly, he took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up at him in surprise, her glassy eyes filling with life. He looked away on instinct, but couldn’t suppress the smile at the corner of his lips on seeing her in his clothes.

“Hey... I dunno if I’ve *hiccup* said this before, but I’m really glad to have you in my corner *hiccup* ya know. The past few days have been... so overwhelming and... I would’ve *hiccup* lost my mind if it wasn’t for you.”

He turned to look at her. Her brown eyes were filled with sincerity and... something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something new. Something... affectionate.

If she could be wasted and still manage to talk to him with complete honesty, then his sober mind could do just the same.

He took her hands in his. They were cold, and sent a jolt of electricity through him. “Alyssa, I meant what I said yesterday. If you ever need me, for anything, at any time, I’ll be there. Nothing will ever change that, no matter what... changes between us.”

He saw her face light up at his words, and he realized that he had quite the same expression himself.

He didn’t know whether she was going to ask him anything further of the topic of... them. It seemed like she decided not to, and he was grateful for it. He still didn’t know what exactly to do, but he knew that it was foolish to keep pushing her away.

“Alyssa where on earth- Oh!”

Doctor Trinh’s eyes widened as she witnessed the tender exchange between them. Her expression morphed from shock to utter delight as she saw their joined hands. If it was someone else, Ethan would’ve immediately pulled away. But this was Alyssa’s best friend, and a doctor who he knew he could trust with their secret, especially since she had seen him come out of her room the previous year.

“I’ll umm... tell Jackie that it’ll take a while.”, she said sheepishly as she turned away from the pair.

“No it’s alright. I need to *hiccup* get some rest before tomorrow. We’re done here. Unless... there’s *hiccup* anything else you want to say?”, she asked as his eyes locked with hers again.

“Yeah... just that I don’t want you to worry too much. Everything’s going to be okay Alyssa.”, he said with a smile that mirrored hers. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, as she reluctantly pulled away from him for the night.

“Thank you Ethan... for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The ghost of a smile adorned his face as he went back to his car. He wasn’t sure about how she felt about everything. Hell, he still wasn’t sure about how he was feeling. But it was something beautiful. Something he hadn’t felt for anyone he had been involved with. Something that filled his heart with joy. Something he had thought that was impossible for him to feel since his mother had left him at eleven.

Love. Ethan Ramsey was in love with Alyssa Brooks.

The very idea terrified him. The worry of losing someone he loved had been rooted his mind since childhood. But she was different. His heart opened up to her in a way it had done with no one before.

It was going to be a long road, filled with obstacles and barriers. He didn’t even know if she felt the same about him. But he wanted to try. His life would never be complete without her in it, and the thought of a reset could never cross his mind again. Changing his view on the world was worth a try when it came to her. Because she was worth the risk. “She always has been.”

At least I'm trying

——————————

A/N 2: Hope you guys liked it! I’ve shamelessly included Louis Tomlinson and GoT references even though it’s supposed to be inspired from a Taylor Swift song😬 Let me know if you found them! And I hope I managed to stay true to the fact that our man is super oblivious to the fact that MC is head over heels for him as well😅 I tried to make this one seem like an actual fic instead of a kinda boring narration that I did last time. As always, constructive criticism is much appreciated❤️

Taglist: @kaavyaethanramsey @ohramsey @aylamwrites @caseyvalentineramsey @ohvamsey @starrystarrytrouble @dxnicaramsey @decadentwinnerjudgedream @nithya @mrsmatsuo-ramsey @imonlybibecauseofethanramsey @rookiefromedenbrook @bratzlahela @eramsey28 @the-pale-goddess @ohchoices @wellhelloramsey @pitchblackstars @mvalentine @swiftlydarcy @utterlyinevitable @angela8756 @akshara16 @sushiharrington @drethanramslay @lion-ess24 @whippedforethanfreakingramsey

Sorry if some of the tags don’t work😓 Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

[amelialincoln]

the baby is dropping and is hard for Amelia to sleep, sit, walk, gets tired easily.

Good Days

Link knew that it was in his best interest to pay attention to what Bailey was telling him. She was going on about Richard’s recovery and how he should be monitoring him more closely. Link wasn’t about to tell his boss that her best friend was the least of his concerns right now.

He had about ten far more critical patients and had no issue with leaving Webber to be taken care of by perfectly capable residents. Bailey, of course, thought differently. On top of Link’s ten emergent patients, what was really distracting Link was the view he had of Amelia out of the corner of his eye. She’d been due last week and as Carina had told them many times, first babies usually come early. But this wasn’t Amelia’s first baby and despite him telling her that being honest with her doctor, which she obviously knew, was extremely important, Amelia had decided against it. Though judging by how the baby had recently dropped into a birthing position, her due date seemed to be quickly approaching and Amelia was, and this is a nice way to put it, miserable. She was not able to find comfort in any position but most of all her back had been killing her from carrying the weight of her rather large bump. Amelia had stated that carrying Link’s massive baby in her five foot frame was nearly impossible. Carina had almost scoffed at their child’s rather impressive margins. Amelia was positive that if this baby stretched her any further, she wouldn’t be able to balance on her own two feet. Link watched her sympathetically as Amelia waddled very slowly over to the nurses station, placed her Ipad down, and rested her head on the counter.

“Dr. Lincoln, are you listening to me?” Bailey snapped. Link glanced down to find her fuming. If there was anything the chief of surgery didn’t enjoy, it was being ignored. She followed his fleeting gaze and finally noticed that the concern in his eyes was not directed at Richard but at his girlfriend. On a normal day this would infuriate her but instead she felt herself sympathize. It seemed as though every doctor at the hospital was trying to get Amelia to take the rest of her pregnancy off. Amelia would engage their requests for about a day before returning to surgery, complaining that she was more uncomfortable at home with nothing to do rather than when she was distracted at work. And while the neurosurgeon was usually outgoing and talkative, she’d become quiet and exhausted. “Oh for god sake. That woman is going to give birth while removing a gliosarcoma.”

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” Link grumbled, excusing himself from his and Bailey’s conversation. His girlfriend didn’t notice him until he placed a soothing hand on her lower back, pressing deeply into a pressure point. She winced in response, stifling a groan.

“How was surgery?” He had given up trying to get Amelia not to operate. She glanced up at him, appearing to be half asleep.

“It was fine. Spinal surgeries can be kind of difficult with my…” she glanced around, she’d been adamant about not letting her pregnancy affect her work, “condition. I’m having trouble leaning over the surgical table.” Her voice was hushed.

“Well what’s that telling you?” A smile played on his lips.

“I operated with my last pregnancy up until I gave birth, it was never an issue.” Link couldn’t bring himself to remind her that her last baby wasn’t constantly moving around and kicking her in the bladder.  

“And how are your feet?”

“Sore. Obese people deserve more credit.”

“You’re not obese,” he sighed, tired of this specific topic of conversation. She rolled her eyes, seeming to not have the energy for an argument. Instead she took his hand softly and placed it on the underside of her bump. Link felt the baby roll lazily inside her. He’d stopped kicking about a week ago and now his movements had become more constricted, as if he were running out of room.

“Your son is ready to come out.” She glanced up at him tiredly before grabbing her Ipad. Link watched herself become immersed in her work as she flipped through the updates of her patients. At first he hadn’t understood why Amelia had been so insistent on staying at work when it seemed like it only brought her more fatigue. He finally noticed that Amelia barely ever looked tired while she was deep in thought. He refrained from trying to lessen her workload after that.

“Are you nervous?” It was something he’d been wondering about for a while.

“About birth?” She asked him, looking up at him with a puzzled expression.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I guess being a guy we don’t really think about it. I mean I’m obviously not excited to see you in pain but it's never really crossed my mind about how daunting it must be for you.”

“Well it’s less of an unknown now.” She quieted her voice. “I know what to expect this time. I am nervous but...this time it’s not for nothing.” Her eyes fell to the floor and her hand moved to sooth her bump affectionately. “I know that sounds awful. I just think that being able to focus on holding our healthy baby in my arms at the end of it all will make it a lot easier.”

“That makes sense.” Was all Link could think of to say. He wrung his hands, wishing he could’ve been there for her. With all she’d been through sometimes it seemed as if she had lived a completely other lifetime. Link always had trouble trying to piece together the L.A. timeline. Amelia would laugh and say that Addison would tell him everything when she came for the birth. She would regretfully add that, at times, she was too high to make sense of it either. Link personally thought that it was in Addison’s best interest to be here now considering that Amelia seemed like she was going to pop. But Addison had been wrapping up the ends of a case and told her ‘sister’ (what Amelia referred to her as) that she would be there as soon as possible. Cutting it a bit close in Link’s opinion.

“You’re going to love Addison.” It was as if she’d read his mind. “You don’t have much to live up to in terms of boyfriends.” She bit back a grin as he straightened up proudly. “And she’s used to my accidental pregnancies by now.”

“How many have there been?” Link stared at her in shock.

“Only two,” she assured him, chuckling at his response. “And a rather unfortunate scare in high school.”

“And to think you pride yourself in educating others about birth control.” He thought back to the night at the conference when Amelia insisted he wore a condom, despite her being on the pill.

“I am extremely careful.”

“And look where that got us.” They both glanced at Amelia’s swollen abdomen.

“It appears you may be right about that.” They both couldn’t help but burst out laughing, receiving a couple of distasteful looks their way from nurses, who were obviously eavesdropping on their conversation. The entire situation only made the surgeons laugh harder, imagining the gossip behind Amelia’s accidental pregnancy. They were doctors, you’d think the couple could manage to enjoy worry free sex. As she was laughing Amelia couldn’t help but glance up at the man she’d begun to adore, to love, she found herself realizing. If someone had told her where her and Link’s relationship would have led nine months ago she wouldn’t have believed them and she found herself feeling incredibly grateful. For the first time in her life, she realized she had nothing to run from anymore.

[towerfandoms]

Would you consider doing a pt 2 to Hanahaki Disease where everyone finds out about the surgery? 😖😖

Of course you can! Thank you so much for requesting this. First part can be found here. I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.2k

CW/TW: nothing much, mentions of hospital and not being able to breath.

Genre: angst, not as bad as the last one though. a lot of Endorsi comforting the reader <3

Hanahaki Disease (2)

Y/n!” came a foreign voice startling you out of your pleasant thoughts. You stood there confused as you couldn’t pinpoint exactly whose voice it was, thought it was familiar.

You turned around, still with a smile on your lips.

“Hm?” you replied, taking in the sight of the person in front of you.

He had an angelic smile, velvety laugh, porcelain skin and piercing, bright blue eyes. He was the definition of perfection. You questioned to yourself if he was hand-carved by the Greek Gods themselves.

“Are you ok? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days?”

“I’m so sorry if this sounds rude but do we know each other?”

——————————————————————————

Khun stood there still, in shock. For the first time the blue haired man was speechless. Whatever he was expecting after not talking to you normally for weeks certainly wasn’t this. And it wasn’t just the blank look on your face that irked him, it was also your tone. You were talking so formally and polite it made him feel disgusted.

It had been a couple of weeks since your confession. You two hadn’t spoken much bar an occasional greeting or discussing of plans. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he had missed you. A lot. Despite everything that’s happened, you two were best friends and it hurt not talking to you. But he had wanted to give you space. Now he almost regrets that.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked, anger masking his confusion and hurt though he knew the answer deep down. He knew it wasn’t. Khun was a perceptive person, so he could tell that you weren’t messing around.

“No? I just had surgery though so I guess i’m still a little out of it,” you replied almost breathlessly. Not only was he a work of art, he had a beautiful, almost velvety voice to match

“Surgery? Why didn’t you tell anyone? We’ve been worried sick about you for the past few days!”

You were gone for three days and nobody knew where you were. Sure you didn’t have to tell anyone but it’d be nice if you had even left a note.

Thinking back, why didn’t you tell anyone? You felt bad that your friends were worried about you. You hadn’t been yourself but you didn’t want to worry them anymore. You didn’t realize how long the operation would take.

“I’m sorry. I thought everyone was busy and didn’t want to worry them more,” came your sheepish reply.

“Y/n, we‘re your friends. You could’ve at least told us.” he scolded. Though his tone was harsh it wasn’t hard to see the lines of worry across his forehead.

It was really weird, you thought. You could remember everyone else quite clearly. Why couldn’t you remember him? He seemed so familiar too. And why did you even have the surgery in the first place? The answer was right there in the back of your brain but you couldn’t reach it.

Khun

Khun? What the hell was a Khun?

No, not what.

Who?

“Khun…?” you asked uncertainly.

You could almost see some of the tension roll off his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s my name,” his tone was rather harsh but for some reason he was rather easy to read. You could tell how stressed he was.

Khun could also read you easily. He noticed your still confused look and sighed.

“I’m gonna call Endorsi, maybe she’ll know what’s up,” with that Khun sauntered off with the intention of finding your best friend and getting answers.

Almost immediately as he left the room Endorsi came running in. You could hear the man named Khun scoff and continue walking down the hallway, leaving you two alone.

“Don’t hate me but I was listening into your conversation and i just can’t help but worry,” she babbled breathlessly. “What’s wrong? Did you have surgery. Can you remember me? Please don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me. Otherwise I’ll have to slap it out of you,”

She was joking,,, or at least you hoped.

Without giving you time to respond she wrapped her arms around you and rested her forehead against your shoulder. You instinctively hugged her back.

“You didn’t actually forget me did you?” she mumbled sadly into your shoulder.

“What! No, of course not! How could I ever forget one of my closest friends.” you replied with the most certainty you could muster. It was true though. You could remember every little detail about her. She was rather hard to forget.

Upon hearing that Endorsis mood took a complete 180. “Yay, ok now can you please explain everything?”

“I can try but the truth is I don’t remember anything myself. I had a surgery for three days but now I don’t even remember what it was for. I think it was for lung disease.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You can tell friends anything. We could’ve gone through this together. Man that must’ve been so scary having surgery alone,”

“No it wasn’t actually that bad. But the issue is I can’t remember that Khun man qnd he looks really sad about it. “

“Khun, sad? I doubt it,” she snorted. “This sounds really familiar though. There’s actually been a lot of cases lately where people had surgery for something in their lungs and forgetting about their loved ones when they wake up. I think it’s something in the anaesthetic.”

“Oh…” you trailed off unsure.

“Yeah, I think it was like Hananene illness or something.”

Hanahaki

You felt like you were in the hospital again. You could hear the nurses and doctors arguing throwing that cursed word around. You kept trying to take big gulps of air but it felt like you were drowning. It was so painful. Your lungs were bursting even though there was nothing in them.

Except those wretched blue flowers.

“Earth to y/n. Earth to y/n. You ok? You look like you just remembered a ghost.” Endorsis head was no longer on your shoulder, instead her arms were gripping them, lightly shaking you.

“It was Hanahaki disease,” you said a little too quickly.

“Oh yeah it was- Wait! Did you have Hanahaki disease?”

You nodded a bit ashamedly, looking to the side.

“And it was Khun who you were in love with, that’s why you’ve forgotten him,”she whispered softly with the sudden realization.

“I can’t remember a thing about him though. I could barely even recall his name,”

Endorsi looked at you with such sadness sadness in her eyes you were scared she was going to start crying.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve known.”

You were taken aback by her strange kindness.

“Hey, it’s fine. Besides I’m alive and I’ve forgotten him so it doesn’t really matter now” you weren’t sure who you were trying to reassure.

“Still, I’m not sure how we’re going to tell him,”

“Tell who, what?” asked Shibisu, entering the room with Bam and Hatz.

Endorsi turned to you and gave you a look that said it was going to be a long night.

Silently you agreed.

A/n: sorry for leaving it off here but i did it for two reasons. one otheriwse it was gonna be a long ass story. and two, to see if people wanted a next part. literally one dm/ inbox message and i’ll do it cuz i really enjoy writing this. thank you! oh also if y’all wanna make it someone else x reader. or we could even do a little bit of khun secretly being in love and wants her back. possibilities are endless, lemme know !

[silverlightqueen]

Cursed

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

wizard!Seungmin x human!reader - crack comedy, y/n’s a bit of a spoilt brat and Seungmin is not down for it lol

Word Count: 3k+

Summary - Seungmin is the best wizard in town. Poisoned by a pixie? Battered by a troll? Bitten by a were? Whatever the magical injury, Seungmin can fix it in the bat of an eyelid. So when y/n is cursed by a witch and needs his help, she expects to leave his lair curseless only a few minutes later. But her plan… doesn’t quite go to plan.

Warnings: y/n is a total judgemental bitch lmao and Seungmin wants to teach her a lesson, brief mention of blood and vomit, I think that’s it but please let me know if I missed else!

a/n: and here is the seventh instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you @silverlightprincess​ for being the best (she didn’t proofread this either but she’s about to read it after I post it and check for mistakes which I will go back and edit lmao). please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts too x

taglist: @kodzu-ken​ @cloudsgathering​ @silverlightprincess

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‘Hi, how can I help?’ the receptionist says, looking up from her computer to give me a friendly smile. ‘Hi, I’ve got an appointment with Dr Kim at 1.30,’ I say, and she blinks at me in surprise before looking at her computer, clicking away. ‘Ah, y/n y/l/n, is it? You booked yesterday?’ ‘Yes, that’s me.’ ‘You’re lucky to get an appointment with Dr Kim so late. And during his lunch break, too! Do you know him?’ she asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘I used to. We… went to school together.’ ‘Oh, that’s nice! Well, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here,’ she says cheerily, and I give her a weak smile before turning to take a seat.

The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery is unlike any Doctors’ Surgery I’ve ever seen before; the reception is relatively normal, with its cold lighting, linoleum flooring and hard backed chairs, but the patients are quite… abnormal. A man is sat two seats away from me, his body covered in hair and long sharp claws protruding from his fingers – I hear him telling the fairy beside him, whose wings are wilted and colourless, that he hasn’t been able to fully turn into his wolf form or his human form for weeks. Opposite them, a vampire sits with a bucket in his lap, vomiting blood into it every few moments, and the centaur stood beside his seat with his tail wrapped in a bloody bandage rubs his back soothingly. I think I’m the only human in here.

Normally, I’d have driven out to the Doctors’ Surgery in the next district – everyone knows that The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery caters specifically to magical injuries – but I somehow don’t think my problem can be solved by a human doctor. When I phoned the surgery yesterday, I asked for the next possible appointment. I was told by the receptionist that that wouldn’t be until mid-November, which never would’ve worked. So I did what I swore I wouldn’t do, and asked the receptionist to ask Dr Kim if he had any availability for y/n y/l/n. The receptionist sounded sceptical, but he put me on hold anyway, and came back to tell me that Dr Kim said he could just about fit me in.

‘Miss y/l/n? Dr Kim is ready to see you in Room 13,’ the receptionist calls out, and I rise from my chair, passing the vomiting vampire with a wince. I head down the clinical corridor, white bar lights flickering overhead, and when I reach Room 13, I take a deep breath and raise my hand to the door. I knock once, twice, and then wait to be told to come in. I hear nothing. I roll my eyes, knocking again a few moments later, and then I hear him call out, ‘Come in!’

I turn the handle, tentatively opening the door and slipping into the room. Whilst the reception may have looked like any old Doctors’ Surgery, Room 13 certainly does not. The walls are black and purple, flickering yellow lamps casting an eerie glow and providing the brightness that the room needs due to having no windows. The floor is an ugly brown and red patterned carpet, the kind you find in a decades old manor house, and wooden shelves and chests of drawers are dotted around the room, covered with various suspicious looking bottles and jars. Old tapestries hang on the walls, and mismatched armchairs and beanbags sit around the rickety table in the middle of the room – I suppose it’s more of a kitchen island type thing than a table – which has a crystal ball, magic wands and various mystical objects sitting atop it. The only things in the room that don’t look otherworldly or ancient are the laptop on the table, and the man stood in front of it, typing away.

He doesn’t look up when I walk in, so I just shut the door behind me, throwing myself down onto the comfiest looking armchair, practically sinking into it. I busy myself with filing my freshly done nails – I love my nail lady, but she can somehow never get them all even – whilst I wait for him to be done. ‘I just cleaned the room and you’re getting nail filings everywhere,’ he says after a few minutes, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Are you sure you cleaned it? It looks a state,’ I say dryly, and he lets out a little laugh as I pull a flask out of my bag. I get up from my seat and hand him the flask, ignoring his raised eyebrow. ‘Wait, is this-’ ‘Iced americano. The way you like it,’ I say, and he grins, taking it from me with badly hidden excitement. ‘Look at you. Sweetening me up,’ he observes amusedly, and I roll my eyes again. ‘I was making it for myself but now I feel a little sick, so you can have it,’ I lie, and he just gives me a suspicious side-eye before sipping from the flask and letting out a blissful sigh.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asks after a few seconds, and I sigh, dragging one of the higher chairs over to the table and sitting on it, not wanting to be a few feet shorter than him in the armchair. ‘I need your help with something,’ I say, and he looks surprised. ‘Wait, you’re actually here to be treated?’ ‘Um… yes. Why else would I be here?’ I ask confusedly, and he hesitates. ‘Thought you might be here to… see me,’ he says quietly, and I feel a little awkward. ‘I… Seungmin, you have to understand w-’ ‘I understand, y/n, I completely understand, and I don’t blame you. It’s just that I’ve… missed you. And I don’t mean I’ve missed our relationship. I’ve missed you in my life. You don’t even show up to family events anymore, and my mum keeps asking why she hasn’t seen you. I don’t have the heart to tell her what happened,’ he murmurs, my heart twisting with guilt. I’m not quite sure what to say, desperately wracking my brains, but there isn’t anything to say, so we’re both silent.

Seungmin and I grew up living in houses opposite each other. Our parents were best friends, so we were best friends. We remained that way through nursery, all of school, and into our adult lives too. I was quite proud of having a wizard best friend who could solve nearly any problem I ever had. He made sure I never failed any tests, hurt myself, got into trouble, and he fixed anything I ever broke, found everything I ever lost, made sure nothing bad ever happened to me. And then we did the worst thing we could’ve done, and we fell in love with each other. Two years later, I had aged two years, and Seungmin had not – wizards are immortal, and so he stopped aging from the age of 18. 22-year-old me was dating 18-year-old Seungmin. It doesn’t seem like much of an issue, but I started thinking about the future. What about when I turned 30, and Seungmin still hadn’t aged a day into adulthood? When we’d had a child together, and he looked more like the kid’s sibling than the father?

‘Anyway… what’s wrong? Why’d you need my help?’ he asks, and I sigh deeply. ‘Basically… I was at the club with Chaeryeong the other night, and we were in the toilets, and I was putting on lipgloss. This girl next to me asked if she could use it, and I was like, ‘um, no’, because who shares lipgloss with a stranger in a club, and she got angry and started saying, ‘you think you’re so gorgeous, and you think you’re better than me,’ and basically went off on one, so I may have retaliated slightly, and turns out she was a witch, so she put a curse on me,’ I explain all in one breath, and Seungmin raises a sceptical eyebrow. ‘You wanna tell me what really happened?’ he asks, and I blink once, twice, before sighing.

‘She asked to borrow my lipgloss and I was kinda drunk and I may have been a bit of a bitch and told her she needed more than just lipgloss to fix her face,’ I admit ashamedly, and Seungmin’s mouth falls open. ‘y/n!’ ‘What? It’s not like I lied! Her makeup was terrible! It was the completely wrong colour for her skin, she hadn’t blended it, her eyelashes weren’t the right shape for her eyes and she hadn’t glued them on properly so they were hanging off, her eyeshadow clashed with her lipstick, it was all terrible! I wasn’t about to let her put my expensive ass lipgloss on top of that god-awful lipstick. So I tried to give her some girl-to-girl advice, but I was drunk so it came out the wrong way!’ I say defensively, Seungmin shaking his head at me in disbelief.

‘Did you tell her all those things? ‘…I may have, yes.’ ‘You’re such a bitch, y/n. Maybe she did her makeup like that on purpose. Maybe no one’s ever taught her how to do makeup. You didn’t need to come for her like that. God,’ he says, voice laced with shock and disappointment, and I feel like a little kid being told off by their teacher. ‘I apologised when she started crying b-’ ‘You made her cry?’ he demands, voice going up a few octaves, and I pout. ‘I didn’t mean to! I apologised, but she was already angry, so she cursed me,’ I say in a small voice, Seungmin’s unimpressed gaze making me feel quite ashamed. Not that I didn’t already! He’s just making me feel worse.

‘What was the curse she put on you?’ he asks, and I let out an angry noise just at the thought of it. ‘That I’ll age to look quadruple how old I actually am,’ I spit, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘I’ve never heard that before. She probably just said it to scare you.’ ‘That’s what I thought. Until this happened,’ I say, turning my head away and lifting up my hair to reveal the base of my neck. I hear him suck in a breath, knowing he’s seeing the lock of hair at the back of my head, the one that’s now a powdery grey colour, wiry and ratty amongst the perfectly healthy hair that I put so much effort into looking after.

‘My body’s getting achy and I’ve got all these pains everywhere that I didn’t have a couple days ago. So I think the curse is real, Seungmin,’ I say seriously, and he nods, looking thoughtful. ‘So you want me to lift the curse off you?’ he asks, and I nod, giving him my best wide innocent eyes. ‘Can you do it?’ I ask, and he’s silent for a moment before replying, ‘I can. But I won’t.’ My heart drops, my mouth falling open slightly, and I blink at him a few times before I say, ‘what do you mean, you won’t?’ ‘I won’t lift the curse off you. You were rude and bitchy to that girl and not once have you shown me that you feel guilty about it. Instead, you’re sat here defending yourself and complaining about her like a little brat, so I think this should teach you a lesson,’ he says simply, and I stare at him in shock.

‘You’re joking, right? I demand, anger flaring through me at the way his eyes sparkle with mirth. ‘No, I’m being serious, actually. You judged that girl based on how she looked – I’m sure if she was conventionally pretty, with flawless makeup, you’d have lent her your lipgloss without a second thought, and probably becomes best friends with her too. That girl might have been the nicest person you’d ever come across. But you wouldn’t know, because you were mean to her. Now, the shoe will be on the other foot. You’ve coasted through life getting what you want because you’re pretty, and now that you’ll look all wrinkly and saggy, we’ll see how you like being on the receiving end of people’s judgement,’ he says cheerfully, my mouth falling open more and more as he speaks.

‘Seungmin, I’m sorry for being a bitch. I really am, and I do regret it. But surely that slightly bitchy behaviour doesn’t warrant this. Me looking like an ancient pensioner! I’ve learnt my lesson. Please don’t do this,’ I say desperately, starting to actually worry that he might not lift the curse. ‘Hmm, I don’t know if you have learnt your lesson, y/n. It’s not like I can take your word for it, because if I didn’t know you any better, you’d have gotten away with telling me a twisted version of what really happened. You’re a compulsive liar. So, I apologise, but I won’t be lifting the curse,’ he says seriously, but his lips are quirked up at the corners, making me realise he’s actually amused by this situation.

‘Seungmin, this isn’t a joke! You cannot let this happen to me!’ I shriek, panic making my hands shake, and he raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Shouting won’t make me change my mind,’ he says dryly, the two of us staring at each other, very different emotions in our gazes, and he sighs a few moments later. ‘How about this? When you show a true act of selflessness and generosity without any kind of judgement, the curse will break,’ he says, taking my hands into his as he speaks, and when I register his words, I snatch them away angrily. ‘No! I don’t want any stupid conditions or things I have to do! Just take the fucking curse off me, Min!’ I scream, fury making my voice waver, and he just laughs.

‘You took your hands away too late – it’s done now. This will teach you your lesson,’ he grins, and I want to literally throw myself across the table and teach him a lesson instead. ‘Seungie, please,’ I pout, stooping lower than I ever thought I would, and he hesitates for a moment before shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘No, y/n. It’s done. Try not to judge someone based on their appearance for once, and you’ll be rewarded for it,’ he says mildly, and I just stare at him in disbelief for a few moments. ‘Are you doing this because I dumped you?’ I ask, unable to believe he simply wants to teach me a lesson, and he bursts out into laughter. ‘Flattering yourself a little there, aren’t you? No, y/n, that’s not why. Stop trying to find reasons to play this down. There are no other factors for this punishment other than your nasty behaviour.’ ‘Punishment? What are you, my dad? You don’t get to punish me!’ ‘I know you better than your dad does, better than anyone else does, and I know you’re better than this. I’m trying to help you.’ ‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it!’ I exclaim, silence falling between us.

‘If that’s all, y/n-’ ‘If that’s all? If that’s all?’ ‘Yes. If that’s all, you can leave. I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break, and then I’ve got another appointment. So you can go,’ he says with a small grin, effectively dismissing me like a parent sends a child to their room, and I let out an angry huff. ‘I can’t believe this. Some shitty doctor you are,’ I say childishly, bitter about this lesson he’s trying to teach me, and he just rolls his eyes amusedly. ‘My thousands of satisfied patients say otherwise. But that’s okay – you can’t please everyone. Especially not judgemental little brats,’ he grins, and I let out a shrill noise of rage, pushing myself up off the seat and grabbing my bag from the armchair.

‘And I’ll take this!’ I exclaim pettily, snatching the half-empty flask from the table, and he just laughs at me, making me feel even more murderous than I already do. ‘You’ll thank me eventually, y/n,’ he says gently, and I let out another angry huff. ‘I doubt it,’ I hiss, stomping towards the door and, just as I think I can’t be any more immature, I kick the shelves nearest me, watching as it wobbles and falls over to the side before stopping mid-air. ‘Really? How childish of you,’ Seungmin says amusedly, one hand outstretched in the direction of the shelves, his magic holding them up, and I let out an angry scream, sounding a lot like Regina George when she was putting herself in the Burn Book to get back at Cady. Is this really what I’ve become? How embarrassing,

‘I’ll see you at Jackson’s for Halloween,’ he calls out behind me as I reach the door. ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ I hiss venomously, ‘my brittle bones may have already given way by then. God knows if I’ll even be able to walk, thanks to you!’ ‘No, y/n, you only have yourself to blame for this,’ he says, as he shakes his head with a sad smile. ‘Oh, cut out all the philosophical teaching-moment shit,’ I spit, wrenching open the door. As I do so, one of my nails flies off my finger. Not just the fake nail my technician put on this morning. The entire nail.

I hold back a gag, hearing Seungmin stifling laughter behind me, and I look away from it, feeling quite sick. My eyes meet Seungmin’s, and he must take pity on me when he sees how they’re full of angry and helpless tears, and he waves a hand in my direction. When I look down at my hand again, the nail is back in place, good as new. I look back at him in surprise, and he looks a little embarrassed. ‘No more of your nails will fall out. But I’m not fixing anything else for you. Now go, before your stupid pretty face convinces me to lift the curse,’ he says, and I feel a little hope spark in my chest. ‘Seungie, p-’ ‘Nuh-uh. Get outta here. Now.’ ‘But S-‘ ‘y/n, I will call security!’

[dontcare77ghj]

Jealous

Clint x reader x Bucky

I don’t know why but my last two posts were once again deleted. Thank the Gods I learnt my lesson and keep them in a document now. Requested by @nickmxller. This is for you.

Wanda liked to call herself the matchmaker of the Tower. She has set up Sam with his girlfriend, herself and Natasha, and the three of you.

She has first set up Clint and Bucky. The inhabitants of the Tower had gotten sick and tired of watching the boys pine over one another. And Wanda did something about it. She pushed the two together and forced them to admit their feelings for one another.

Wanda had met you at a yoga class and had brought you around the Tower one day. You weren’t a superhero or an enhanced, you were merely a civilian. Your visits to the Tower became much more frequent when Wanda worked out you liked the boys, and they thought of you the same way.

Wanda had set you up on a blind date four months after meeting Clint and Bucky. You had gone in expecting someone to get your mind off the two, not for it to be the two.

The three of you had been together for almost two years, and you knew anything you could about one another. There were a lot others knew about the three of you, but there was one thing you don’t think they’d ever know or understand. Just how jealous Clint and Bucky could get.

“No, Miranda needs the day off Thursday. Her mother’s going into surgery.” You said, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear. “And Julie’s out of town, so don’t even go there.”

“Okay, I can do Thursday if you cover my Saturday morning,” Rhys said, making you smile. “I have a date with my potential soulmate Saturday.”

“Done. Are you still okay working Wednesday afternoon?” You asked,  looking down at your schedule.

“Might as well. I got nothing better to do. Unlike you.” He chuckled.

“Charming, Rhys. Did you talk to all your other bosses like that?” You quizzed him as your cheeks burnt bright red.

“Nope. But they would’ve fired me if I did.” He said as the elevator opened behind you.

“Don’t think I won’t fire you.” You rolled your eyes. “I totally could fire you.”

“You could not fire me. You felt bad for an hour because you couldn’t give that old woman what she wanted.” He laughed as Clint sat beside you. “Besides, you love me.”

“Moria’s a regular, and she’s a sweetheart.” You defended yourself. “I gotta go. Remember Thursday.” You told him.

“Of course. See you, boss.” Rhys said before hanging up.

“How was the meeting?” You asked, leaning over to kiss Clint in greeting.

“Boring. I wanted to leave.” Clint told you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “He wouldn’t let me.”

“Steve would’ve killed you.” Bucky sat, taking a seat on your other side. “And then Natasha would. I quite like you being alive, hotshot.”

“As do I.” You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Who was on the phone, doll?” Bucky asked, taking a strand of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Rhys. I hired him a couple weeks ago.” You told him. “He’s a good worker. Apprenticed under some pretty good bakers, always early, he’s a model employee.”

“Sounds like you really like him, sweetheart,” Clint commented.

“He’s a good work friend.” You shrugged.

“Is he friends with other employees?” Bucky asked. “Getting along with others? Not causing any ripples?”

“Ripples?” You raised a brow. “Your age is showing, Buck.” You smirked as Clint laughed.

“That’s mean,” Bucky whined. “You two are mean.”

“Not mean. Sarcastic.” Clint explained. “We’re sarcastic, Buck.”

“Anyway,” You sighed, turning to face Bucky. “He has caused no issues. He’s good with everyone.”

“That’s good,” Clint said. “That’s very good.”

“Yeah, it is.” You hummed. “Oh, I brought back your favorite from the shop. I made extras just for you.” You said, jumping up from the couch.

“That’s great, doll,” Bucky said.

“What would we do without you, Y/N?” Clint asked.

“Starve.” You responded from the kitchen. “Get off your butts. I’m not bringing it to you, so you’ll have to come to me.”

“Do I smell cake?” Clint asked as he snaked his arms around your waist.

“An almost ruined cake.” You said, patting his hand. “You almost gave me a heart attack, I could’ve dropped the bowl.”

“Yeah, Clint, you almost gave her a heart attack,” Bucky smirked, moving next to you. “No cake for you.” He added, pressing a kiss to your lips. Bucky pulled away and quickly swiped his finger through the cake batter and stuck it in his mouth.

“James Barnes.” You scolded, pulling the bowl away from him. “I’m still using this.”

“Yeah, James,” Clint smirked. “She’s still using it.” He said, dipping his own finger in the bowl.

“Clinton.” You sighed, pulling out of his grasp. You moved with the bowl to the other side of the table and raised a brow at your smug men. “Why do I let the two of you visit when you do this every time?” You asked, a faint smile on your face.

“Because you love us,” Bucky said, rounding the table. He made you put the batter down as he pulled you into an embrace.

“I suppose that’s a good reason.” You shrugged, leaning up to kiss the man.

“And who would tell you that this needs more chocolate,” Clint added, pulling the bowl towards him.

“And you ruined the moment,” Bucky said as you moved next to Clint.

“Are you sure?” You asked, leaning over his shoulder. “I thought it was pretty chocolatey anyway.”

“Everything needs more chocolate.” Clint smiled at you, reaching over to kiss you. “Do you have white chips?”

“Do I have white chips? What kind of bakery do you think I’m running?” You teased the man as you pulled away. “Do you only want white chips?” You asked, moving into the pantry.

“Dark ones too,” Clint said. “That’ll work.”

“Something smells good,” Rhys said, entering as you exited the pantry. “And I’m not talking about you.” He added, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Save the charm for the bar.” You smiled, ducking under his arm. “Buck, Clint, this is Rhys. Rhys, these are my partners, Bucky and Clint.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rhys said, putting his hand out to Bucky. “Y/N talks a lot about you.”

“Likewise, with you.” Bucky nodded, shaking Rhys’s hand with his metal one.

“Y/N, there’s someone out front who wants to talk to you,” Rhys said, turning to you.

“Did they look angry or not?” You sighed, pulling off your apron.

“It could just be their face.” Rhys shrugged. “Your necklace is under your shirt here.” Rhys stopped you and pulled your necklace out from under your shirt.

“Thanks. Wish me luck.” You said before moving into the front of the store.

Rhys was not wrong. The woman wasn’t mad at anything, she just had a bitch face as she placed a large order. As you entered the backroom, there was palpable tension between the men.

“Everything okay?” You asked the men.

“Everything’s great, doll. Just getting to know Rhys here.” Bucky told you.

“Are you free for lunch, sweetheart?” Clint asked.

“I have to finish with the batter.” You told him.

“I can do it for you, Y/N.” Rhys volunteered. “Go out, have lunch, have some fun.” He pushed you.

“Thanks, Rhys.” You said, hugging the man.

“Of course, hon.”

“Alright, let’s go.” You said as Clint wrapped an arm around your waist, and Bucky took your hand.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Clint asked, leaning in closer to you.

“Once or twice.” You smiled, resting your back against the bar.

“You look beautiful,” Clint said, holding your chin and kissing you.

“And you look handsome.” You responded once you pulled away.

“And you two are too sweet for your own good,” Bucky said, appearing suddenly. “Tony told me to tell you two that it’s a party, and that’s he’s getting a spray bottle if you look like you’re getting heated.”

After the team had completed another successful mission, Tony had decided it was time for another party. Instead of inviting hundreds of strangers, like he usually would, the party had been reserved for Avengers, partners, and friends.

“Tony’s just mad that Pepper’s late.” You commented, grabbing a new drink.

“You’re not wrong there, doll.” Bucky chuckled as Clint curled into his side.

“Ooh, speaking of late.” You said, noticing who was arriving.

“What’s he doing here?” Clint asked, noticing Rhys entering.

“I invited him.” You said, kissing your men on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a minute, I love you.” You told them before making your way over to Rhys. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Rhys said, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “Are you going to introduce me to this mystery man now?”

“Right this way.” You smirked, leading him into the party’s fold.

You had left Rhys with the man you wanted to set him up with and made your way to the bar. You hadn’t even opened your mouth to order a drink when you were pulled away.

“What’s the big idea?” You asked as Bucky pulled you out of the party with Clint by his side.

“Quiet.” Clint grit out as the three of you walked into a dark hall of the Tower.

“What are the two of you doing?” You asked as you stopped. You let out a quiet grunt as Bucky pushed you into a wall.

You were once again denied the opportunity to speak as Bucky smashed his lips to yours.

“Buck, what?” You gasped as he pulled away. You weren’t given an answer as Clint pushed Bucky out the way and silenced you with his own lips. “What’s brought this on?” You panted as Clint pulled away and shoved his face in your neck.

“Fucking Rhys,” Bucky growled. “He had his hands all over you, and you didn’t do anything.”

“Wait, Rhys? That’s what this is all about?” You asked, pushing Clint away. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Sweetheart, he’s always touching you, and helping you and flirting with you,” Clint grumbled. “The worst part is you never seem to notice.”

“Oh, my God. I love you two, I really do, but you need to work on communication.” You sighed, brushing the hair out of your face. “You know Rhys is gay, right?”

“But he’s always touching you.” Bucky protested.

“He’s extremely friendly. He hangs off everyone he meets.” You told him. “I brought him here because Wanda and I want to set him up with Steve.” You explained.

“With Steve?” Clint questioned slowly.

“Yes with Steve. Wanda thinks they’ll be good together.” You said. “Maybe if the two of you had just come to me and said you were jealous of Rhys,”

“We weren’t jealous.” Clint protested.

“Then what the hell was that back there?” You asked, raising a brow. Clint didn’t answer and looked down. “If the two of you had just said something, I could have told you about the plan. I could have told you he was just a friend. In fact I did tell you that, several times I believe.” You finished, crossing your arms.

“We’re sorry, doll.” Bucky said after a second. “We just didn’t want you to think we didn’t trust you. We didn’t want you to know that we were,”

“Insecure?” You asked as he trailed off.

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“I love the two of you. I love you Bucky Barnes and I love you Clint Barton. Nothing and no-one is going to change that. Don’t you see? I only want the two of you.” You said, taking one of both their hands into yours.

“And we love you.” Clint said, squeezing your hand tightly.

“How about we skip going back to the party, and just head back to our room?” You suggested.

“Have I ever told you, you have the best ideas?” Bucky asked you.

“No, but I look forward to hearing it more.” You smirked as you began to tug the men towards the elevator.

Remember to ask if you want to be tagged. Taglists are always open. If you enjoy my writing please consider buying me a coffee.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @miyaeadys-blog @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover

[roadtohappy]

Why I detransitioned

I mentioned it briefly in response to someone else’s post, but I believe this subject deserves a post of its own. It included the statement: “I detransitioned because my identity changed, and I don’t regret my transition”, to which I expressed how much it resonated with me - and here’s why.

I was, I am, and I always will be transgender. As a young girl, I developed gender dysphoria. To anyone who’s unfamiliar with what that means, gender dysphoria is a term used to describe the emotional pain and distress a person experiences when their biological sex and their self-perceived gender do not match - a body/brain incongruence, if you will.

When I came out of the closet and told my family and peers that I identified as male, I had already spent a considerable amount of time contemplating my situation. I questioned myself constantly, and doubted every answer. I did this prior to, and after coming out, and even during my social and medical transition. Not because I was unsure of myself, but because I needed to know if there was any chance that my gender dysphoria could’ve been caused by something other than simply being transgender. It was important for me to unveil and deal with any underlying issues that could’ve been linked to my gender-identity, because it’s better to find out early on and stop before you find yourself overwhelmed with regret later in life if it turns out that you were actually mistaken. I asked myself the same questions constantly; “Am I being influenced by my peers? Media? Online communities?” “Is my brain using this as a defense mechanism to mask childhood trauma?” “Am I using my trans identity to escape from my past/present problems?” “Do I have any undiagnosed psychiatric or medical conditions that could alter how I perceive myself?” “Can I learn to cope with my gender dysphoria without transitioning?” “Am I trying to mend the absence of my father and lack of male role models by becoming male myself?” “Do I have any unhealthy ideas of what it means to be a woman?” “Do I have enough strong female role models in my life?” “Am I simply not ready to become a woman yet? if so, why?”

-These are all questions you should never ever be afraid to ask yourself, no matter where you are in your transition - whether you’re in the closet or out. Early, mid or late-transition; it is never a bad time to discover yourself and make the best choices for yourself, wherever they may lead you. This is not at all meant to discourage anyone from transitioning, but rather inspire people to ask them self the right questions.

As I mentioned in my introduction-post; I started living as a boy at 15, meaning I wore boy’s clothes, and went by a male name and male pronouns. I started taking male hormones when I was 18. If you’re unfamiliar with what hormone therapy does for trans people, it essentially means that you’re taking hormones regularly to induce a second puberty in order to bring on characteristics of your identified gender. I’m now 21 years old and I had chest-masculinization surgery 8 months ago. I never wanted to go any further than hormones and top-surgery, as my dysphoria mainly revolved around my feminine voice and other minor characteristics, and my breasts. The further I progressed into my transition, my gender dysphoria decreased, as you’d expect. After having my top-surgery, I also no longer feel dysphoric about my chest. To my surprise, I now feel completely comfortable with my natural body, including my femininity.

Early 2020 when the lockdown started, I began to spend more time alone by myself, going on long nature walks and exploring my thoughts through art and creative activities as a way to “unlearn” some of the unhealthy masking-behaviors I’ve taught myself over the years, in order to fit in better among other people. (Very common coping mechanism in autistic people, apparently.) As I began this process of “un-masking” I made it my top-priority to stop caring so much about what other people think of me or how other people expect me to look, talk and act. My new mindset became something along the lines of “Okay, the way my brain is built means that I experience the world and process information differently from other people, which also means that my actions and feelings are based on a different set of experiences than other people. I will no longer measure my worth by my ability to blend in and be ‘normal’, and I will no longer apologize for being different.” And so began a whole new level of self-exploration. I played around with some of my old make-up, I started taking up fun activities that most people would deem feminine - and it didn’t make me feel dysphoric at all. In fact, I liked it. I was unapologetically leaning into my feminine side and it felt good, it felt right, it felt safe - an experience I was never able to have before I transitioned.

When the semester came to an end a few weeks ago, I found myself in a weird position. I now have two completely empty months ahead of me, I truly detest big changes like that. A solid everyday schedule sort of functions as a mental “anchor” for me. Because no matter what happens in my life, I know one thing for certain; I will go to sleep tonight, wake up in the morning, do my morning routine and get ready, get the bus at exactly 7:41AM and arrive at school 10-15 minutes later depending on the traffic. I then attend class and adhere to the school’s timetables for the next 6 hours. I get the bus home and change into my uniform, work for 5 hours, go home and do my homework, make dinner, do something fun or watch youtube, go to bed - and the cycle continues. These little “anchors” make me feel secure and grounded, they help me cope with a world that can feel chaotic and overwhelming at times. 

So last day of school arrives and I’m like “shit, what now?? One day I’m at school and suddenly there’s just *nothing* for two months?? Not only that, but I’ve just discovered that there’s a whole new side of me that I’m now free to explore since my gender dysphoria decided to evaporate into thin air.” Everything around me was changing, even myself - and that’s the moment when I decided that maybe it was time to give Testosterone a break. Whether temporary or permanently, doesn’t matter. It’s not like my body is going anywhere and I can always just resume hormone therapy again if I want to. But for now, it was time to just take a break, let go of everything and truly get to know myself. My transition is complete, and I am ready to continue this journey in a new direction. It’s been a month now, and I’m happy to say I’ve had a lot of fun just enjoying the time off and being my authentic self. I haven’t really told anyone I’m detransitioning. I’m just kinda doing my own thing, and if people want to run along with it and refer to be as female at some point then that’s their choice, I don’t really care to be honest. Name-wise, I might just jokingly suggest “Jane” when people ask, since it’s so similar to “Jake”.  I get weird looks from people when I’m out in public, because I’m starting to pass as female again, but my voice is unmistakably masculine - I like my voice though, so I don’t care what they think. If people ask why my voice is so deep, I just tell them the truth: “I am a woman, but my body was testosterone-dominant for 3 years, hence the voice.” Simple as, lol. Not only that, but I am a whole, grown ass adult, I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.

On the topic of irreversible changes, there is one important thing that I cannot stress enough; My decision to detransition does not come from a place of regret, I have loved and cherished every step of this process. I’ve heard a lot of people say this about detransitioners but I don’t have “reverse-dysphoria”, why would I?  Man or woman, I love myself and my body regardless. I absolutely needed to transition from female to male in order to be happy, I could not have attained this level of happiness otherwise. I would not have been able to accept or even come to terms with my femininity if I hadn’t transitioned. I’m still on the same journey as before, I simply took a new path.

Anyway, I best end this wall of text because it’s 3:00AM and I’m going on a 9km hike with a friend in the morning, I can’t waiiiitttt!

[farfromsugafanfic]

My Mom’s Pregnancy & What Happened

This week has been among one of the worst of my life. A variety of factors within my personal and professional life contributed to this. However, the thing that took the cake was that my mom got pregnant.

Allow me to explain.

While in almost every other circumstance, my mom getting pregnant would be a happy occasion. While edging close to 50, it wouldn’t be impossible for her to carry a healthy baby to term without issue. There’s only one problem. My mom doesn’t have a uterus.

When I was a kid, my mom had a hysterectomy where her uterus was removed to treat endometriosis and other issues. Her ovaries and Fallopian tubes were left, however, my mom had had her tubes tied some years before.

In every way, it should’ve been nearly impossible for my mom to get pregnant. And, since she did not have a uterus for the embryo to implant itself, the pregnancy was ectopic.

Ectopic pregnancies refer to when a baby implants itself in a structure other than the uterus. This most common occurs in the Fallopian tubes, which is where my mom’s pregnancy was.

Ectopic pregnancies are extremely dangerous. The two main risks are: 1). The ovary or tube bursting causing massive amounts of internal bleeding and causing the person to bleed to death 2). Sepsis which is where an infection reaches the bloodstream. Sepsis often comes with a 50% chance of survival.

My mom had been feeling tired and off for a few weeks. This past week she began to vomit and even remarked to my stepdad, “This feels like the morning sickness I had with [my brother’s name].” She eventually felt bad enough that she went to the doctor.

The baby survived almost to 16 weeks. Nearly 4 months. That is absolutely insane for an ectopic pregnancy. By the time the pregnancy was discovered, the placenta was gone. Doctors believed that the baby had a placenta at one point, or else the baby would have died long before.

The baby had no chance of survival. While alive for a short time after discovery, the baby died within a day. Since the baby had no chance, the doctors told my mom to abort the baby since he was going to die anyway. The medication would not be available for a day.

The baby, who we found out was a boy, died before my mom took the medication. However, unlike a traditional miscarriage, due to my mom’s altered anatomy, she still needed to take the medication to remove the baby from her body. If she did not, she risked either her tube bursting or sepsis.

Doctors gave her large doses of antibiotics to prevent infection and sepsis. At this point on the second day after the baby died, my mom’s tube was about to burst.

My mother is one of the strongest people I know. She was a single mom for most of my life, a breast cancer survivor, survived and dealt with four decades of emotional abuse, and always worked hard to give my brother and I a good life.

This is the most broken I have ever seen her. When I was finally able to come and stay with her, she told me about how she cried when the cashier asked her how she was, had to leave the grocery store when she saw a mom buying diapers, and she still believes this is somehow her fault.

My mom is physically improving everyday. She is still on a 4000mg dose of antibiotics (that is inordinately high) which is taking a toll on her body. She still feels pain and gets tired. But she’s getting better.

Mentally, she still can’t see kids too much. She is still crying a lot. But, I have been able to provide her comfort that I feel only a daughter and other woman can provide. Normally, my mom lives only with my stepdad and brother. I think having another woman in the house who can understand this on a level they cannot has been helpful.

For me, this was scary. I almost lost my mom to breast cancer when I was young. While I was not aware of it at the time, I still think everyday about the cancer returning. I am especially close with my mom and the thought of losing her, especially to something like this, made me want to burn the world down.

I thought of the people who would value the life of her dead baby over her. How they would condemn her to death along with her child. I wish I could erase the guilt my mom feels. I wish I could erase the pain and the hurt. I wish this never would’ve happened.

For a few days, even after taking the medication, the situation was tenuous. My mom had a fever and her tube was on the cusp of bursting. She could’ve been rushed into emergency surgery at any minute. As someone with anxiety already, I found myself the closest to a mental breakdown than I have for years.

The one person I cannot lose in this world is my mom. And I almost did.

It is going to take some time for my family and I to recover from this. We are planning a memorial for the baby and need some time to allow our mental health to improve.

For me personally, I am looking into psychiatric evaluation, more extensive therapy, and possibly medication. While I have been working towards all those things for a month or so now, this made it an absolutely necessity.

I truly hope that none of you experience this. My mom had no choice but to let the baby die. We had no choice but to wait and watch and hope my mom’s condition would improve.

Please be patient with me as I take some time off from writing. Thank you 💜

Alyce

[nattikay]

.

Just trying to sort out some thoughts, came here cuz not sure where else to do it. Might delete later.

So we’ve had Maisie for almost a week now an honestly, it’s...caused me a lot more stress than I’d expected it to. Don’t get me wrong, I like her, and I don’t plan to give her back to the shelter or anything, good gracious, no--but tbh I feel a little guilty for not being ~euphoric~ over the whole scenario, and I’m just trying to work out why.

Don’t worry she is being well taken care of! This is an emotional issue, not an ability-to-care-for issue.

I think some of it may have its roots in our old cat, Harry Pawter. We got Harry when I was around 9 years old and I loved him. However, being a child when we got him, I was never really super good at taking care of him; most of the animal care wound up falling on my parents. 

Harry, for the most part, was a pretty good cat most of his life, but he started developing health problems around his last two years or so. By this point I was in high school, and for all intents and purposes should’ve been old enough and responsible enough to step in and help take proper care of him. But by that point, I hadn’t really formed those habits and...I never really did. Not as much as I should have. And looking back...tbh I feel really bad about it, and wonder if I didn’t love him as much as I should have, or as much as I thought I did. My dad would certainly imply at much when he got frustrated with the cat, and that...kinda sunk its way into my brain, I guess.

I’ve mentioned before that we lost Harry my freshman year of college, my very first semester. But I haven’t told the whole story, because well...I feel really bad about it. But maybe it’ll be good to get it off my chest.

See, Harry’s health had been declining for a while at that point (he was now 9 years old btw). He was struggling to keep himself clean and having more and more accidents outside the litterbox. My dad took him to the vet, and the vet suspected he may have had a brain tumor. All this was happening recently after I started my first semester of college, so I wasn’t home at the time, only getting this info via phone calls. 

My dad didn’t want to pay for expensive tests and surgeries for a cat, so was considering putting him down. I was obviously not in favor of that idea, so we decided that we’d wait until I came home for Christmas and then discuss what to do about the Harry situation.

But we never got the chance. Around November, there was some sort of leak under the fridge or something (I don’t remember the details; again I wasn’t home at the time) and we had to get a lot of work done in there to fix it, which included having all the tiles completely removed and huge fans placed in the kitchen to blow away the ensuing dust. In order to keep Harry out of the way of the construction, we wound up regulating him to the screened-in back patio (and for further context: Harry had always been an indoor-only cat, and never showed much interest in going outside). Needless to say, on top of his health concerns, this construction and jarring change in environment was probably really stressful for him. One day, he found his way out of the patio...and never came back. 

We...don’t really know for sure what happened to him after that. I like to say that he passed away rather than ran away, partly because he didn’t really have great survival skills and between that and his already-present health issues, well...I don’t think he would’ve survived long as a stray, and I prefer to imagine that his suffering ended as quickly and painlessly as possible. Even if he did manage to survive for a while then, he’s almost certainly gone now, given that he’d be nearly 15 by this point...but I digress.

All that said...idk, I guess I never really got any proper closure with Harry. And the more I learn about how to properly care for a cat, especially doing all the research I’ve been doing for Maisie...well, the worse I feel for him.

It’s not that we were bad owners, per se, and we certainly weren’t malicious in any way...but man, we could’ve done so much better. Harry was definitely overfed and undergroomed and we didn’t really know how to deal with his issues later in life...again, we weren’t malicious, but I think we were ignorant. I can’t really blame myself in the early years given that I was a literal child but by the time I reached high school and the like...idk I just feel like I could have and should have done so much better. I wonder how many issues could’ve been resolved if we’d been more attentive, more vigilant. Had been willing to put in more effort than just “meh fill up his food bowl twice a day and have Dad change the litter once in a while”.

And with all that considered, well...let’s just say I have doubts as to my prowess as a cat guardian. I want to make sure what went wrong with Harry goes right with Maisie and I just...idk. It’s just been a lot more emotional pressure than I expected it to be, even more so considering I haven’t yet quite formed the emotional bond with Maisie that I felt with Harry (not that I necessarily should have expected to at this point, given that we’ve only had Maisie for less than a week whereas we had Harry for nine years). But still.

And I mean, it’s not like taking care of Maisie has been difficult from an objective standpoint. It boils down to just feeding her (and making sure it’s the right amount of food), cleaning her litterbox, and playing with her, all of which are pretty simple and straightforward (well actually trying to figure out the right amount of food for her age and size has been a bit of a chore but I digress). 

Again, it’s not the tasks themselves that are an issue...it’s, I guess, the emotional baggage, or something. Knowing that as my cat the responsibility rests squarely on my shoulders (as opposed to having Harry where my parents took up most of the tasks) probably contributes as well.

Probably doesn’t help that this was a rather sudden development as well. It was only a week ago that we even seriously entertained the possibility of getting a new cat, and now here we are. It all happened so fast, it...almost doesn’t seem real.

Then again, not much has been feeling “real” to me lately. But that’s a separate issue and one for my therapist. :P

I also, despite all objective evidence to the contrary, feel almost like I’m being a burden my bringing Maisie into the house. I know that I shouldn’t...it wasn’t even my idea. My brother made the suggestion, my mom endorsed it, my dad ultimately agreed. The whole family seems to like her, even my dad who is by far the least of a cat-person out of all of us has pet her and talked soft to her (I expected him to mostly ignore her).

But...well, ok, another (shorter) storytime. My parents, while they don’t dislike pets, have had enough of them to last their lives, especially after Harry’s troubled final years, which we kids (regrettably) did not do much to help with despite being older by then. About a year or two after we lost Harry, a family in our church was giving away a bunny for adoption after their two dogs didn’t take well to it. My sister, who has always loved bunnies, begged and begged and begged to adopt it, and after promising and promising to take care of it, my parents finally relented. Alas, the bunny did not wind up being as friendly and cuddly as my sister expected, and after a few weeks she lost interest in it, leaving the bulk of the care responsibilities to our youngest brother (who, to his credit, did pretty well...honestly he’s just pretty good with animals in general, of all types...dogs are his top preference but he’ll happily work with just about anything). Not long later, the poor bunny injured itself, and upon doing some research my parents found that bunnies rarely heal properly from that type of injury (I forget what it was exactly, again I was away in college at the time so don’t recall all the details) and that the most humane option was to put it down. We only had that bunny for a few months.

After that, my dad was (understandably) hesitant to bring another pet into the house, however hard we promise to care for it, cuz last time he relented he got burned and a poor bunny had to suffer. When he agreed to let us get a new cat, he included the (reasonable) stipulation that if it ever seems like we’re not taking proper care of kitty, he’s allowed to make the call to give her up back to the shelter.

Now, I have absolutely zero intentions of pulling a sister-and-the-bunny on Maisie, and I very much plan to take as good care of her as possible. But...you can see how there’s some emotional pressure there, yeah? ^^; 

I feel like I have to be an absolutely flawless owner else I’ve let everyone down and proven that my promises to care for her were just talk. I’m afraid people will get mad at Maisie for doing Cat Things and I’ll take the fall and it’ll be assumed I’m not taking proper care of her because I can’t train her well enough. I’m afraid any inconvenience that naturally comes from owning and animal will by default get pinned on me, that I’ll be at fault because I’m the one who technically owns her, I brought her into the house, were it not for me we wouldn’t be dealing with Animal Inconvenience. 

And yes I know that’s irrational...I know my brain is exaggerating and none of them really expect an 8 month old kitten to have flawless behavior or blame me for it and as long as I’m keeping her happy and healthy it’s fine...and yet...

I don't know.

Pressure, I guess. A big life change that happened pretty suddenly and it’s gonna take a little while for it to become the new normal...I’ve just gotta hang on until it does, I guess...

anyways...

R.I.P. Harry Pawter, 2005-2014

(last picture we ever got of him)

Maisie, I will do my best ;_;

(first picture I ever got of her...which, I am just now realizing, is similar to the last pic of Harry ;n;)

[bigskydreaming]

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

Hey everyone, so I need some help with my monthly insurance premiums again, because living continues to be pricey as hell. We’re getting close to the finish line though, I’m optimistic. I finally got on my doctor’s schedule for my next appointment - to go over the last CT scan I got done a couple weeks ago, the one to fit me for the prosthetic joint. It’s next Thursday morning, and this will be the appointment where she tests out actual prosthetics and makes the determination as to whether we go with a premade or a custom. From there, we can order whichever one we go with and expedite the preauthorization approval for my surgery with my insurance, and finally get an answer on how much of the surgery they’ll cover. It’s 25K out of pocket, so this has been the big thing I’ve been waiting on an answer on, that kinda everything else hinges on from here.

Once I do have that answer, I’ll finally set up a gofundme for everything that’s left to pay. I’ve been putting that off because I’m trying to only do one of those if at all possible, for various reasons like taxes, etc - but once I have the estimate for how much of the surgery I need to cover upfront, I’ll set one up to help out with whatever I need help with for that, and for the living expenses I’ll need for the two to three weeks I’m told to expect I’ll be bedridden through recovery, post surgery.

I know I’ve been leaning on you guys for a lot, but I wanted to show you just how much none of this would be possible without your help - 

Essentially, my expenses for the last nine months have been rent and food (which given my circumstances living out of a motel and not being able to cook/store food comes to a couple thousand a month), phone (about eighty a month), out of pocket expenses for all the consults and appointments I had before getting insurance in January, and since January, insurance ($809 a month) plus co-pays and out of pocket expenses for the stuff my insurance still doesn’t cover (since January this has been $354 for one consultation, $350 for one CT scan, $340 for one co-pay, $225 for one round of tests not covered, couple others I can’t find at the moment). That’s everything my money goes towards, pretty much the second it comes in.

Since I started doing donation posts back in December when I was about to get kicked out of the motel, you guys have donated about $2700 all in all, across the last five months. And although that sounds like a big number just from looking at it, its so much bigger than even that, when you consider that’s basically the only thing that’s enabled me to even HAVE my super-pricey insurance. I take no days off, I take every single job I can find no matter how low the rate, and even busting my ass 24/7, I’m still a thousand bucks behind on what I owe them in rent here at the motel, haven’t paid my cell phone this month yet, and have maxed out my two $300 limit credit cards, lmao - just as an example of where I’m at any given day. There is ZERO chance I would’ve been able to afford this insurance on my own, and ZERO chance that without it, I’d ever have made it this close to finally having an end to all this, and a chance at regaining my old quality of life/lack of chronic pain. Like, I was flat out told I NEEDED to get that MRI in February, not just to rule out whether or not a tumor was responsible, but to pin down the underlying causes of the joint destruction, because they weren’t going to go ahead with the surgery until they could conclusively determine whether the new joint would just erode all over again. 

(Don’t think I ever mentioned on here, but what they basically discovered was that my condyle had some time in the past been I guess....bent? a little? or just shifted just enough that over the years it was steadily getting jammed more and more up under my skull instead of flush with the joint, with it constantly eroding over the years from the friction until about a year and a half ago when it hit critical mass and had worn through enough that the remainder just snapped off, which is what caused all this. Doctors have been asking me ever since then about trauma to my face that could’ve caused it, and I kept saying I couldn’t think of anything cuz I was assuming they meant just in the last few years, but these later scans were detailed enough to zero in on the oldest stress/fracture marks on the bone and estimate an age to those initial fractures and turns out all this Drama started a good fifteen years ago. When lol the gaybashing that keeps on giving saw me taking a couple kicks to the head that I honestly never really thought all that much about after my face healed up in a few weeks, as I was always focused on the emotional aftermath of all that and never even thought about the possibility there’d been longterm damage I wasn’t aware of at the time, yaaaaay). 

ANYWAY. this is what my insurance covered from that MRI:

Like, and that’s just one step of this whole long as hell process. So I am completely, 100% serious when I say that I would not be where I’m at now without this specific insurance, and I would not be able to afford it without your help. Medicare was never going to cover these specific procedures because my specific jaw issues fall into such a weird gray area between medical and dental that they were batting it back and forth from various offices for months arguing about necessity of procedures and whose responsibility various procedures were, with my health and ability to even function steadily declining all the while. If things kept going the way they had been, before I got insurance and finally got jumpstarted on the right track, it wouldn’t be far off from now where I reached the point where I was just completely unable to function and yet still had bureaucrats telling me over the phone my needs didn’t match the threshold of medical necessity....and at least now, by the time I hit that point, I’ll have a solution in the works.

I know you guys have been seeing these posts from me a lot and so I just wanted to show something tangible as to the effect your help has had and is continuing to have. I’ll still be needing to make them for probably at least a couple months to come, but like, there is a finish line for me at least, and every time I see it, the fact that I can see it at all reminds me of how much support I’ve had to get here and I get all these Feelings and ugh they’re just the worst, but also the best, so...yeah. In summation, you continue to rock my world, and thanks.

[pleasedontgethurt]

Trust your instincts

May this be a lesson for you all. Warning: long post, but this is important

As some of you know, about a year ago, I made the decision to take up on my now previous job despite I knew it could end after the fixed term was over, as it did. I was very iffy about taking up on the offer, as it meant moving to a new city and my life turning entirely upside down, leaving behind pretty much everything I knew and never looking back, and taking a huge risk of ending up worse off than I already was. I ended up taking the offer regardless. It was the hardest decision I ever made, and the countless hours I spent in regret crying in agony are proof of that. 

To this day, I find myself missing so many things from my old home. First of all, my old home itself, how cheap it was to live there, the feeling of home, the nature, the lakes, the activities related to those, the quietness, the people, the places, even the few shops, stores and restaurants I frequented (some of which that became very important to me), the memories, the simplicity of living there, and how almost everything I needed was but a short walking distance away. I miss being able to trust people, I miss how clean it was in comparison... It was also close to where my parents live, closer to where my boyfriend lives, and would now be even closer to where my brother and his family live, and was in general close to where my roots are. I’m the kind of a person that when I get attached, it’s strong and doesn’t wear out even after I know it’s over, it’s just how I am. But I couldn’t thrive there, and I knew that.

I don’t miss my old job and all the issues I had there, or not being able to travel much, I don’t miss the nonexistent job opportunities, the apartment being way too small for my needs, or not having many friends in real life. I still don’t really have any, but at least the potential is there. I don’t miss only having 5 Pokémon Go gyms and 11 Pokéstops in town, or the lack of options in terms of church, hobbies, libraries, services, you name it. I don’t miss not having many people of my age around and most people around being middle aged people and the elderly. I don’t miss the overall lack of opportunities related to anything. I don’t miss the hopelessness of it all, how the town was and still is slowly dying and withering away, or how far away everything was from there. I especially don’t miss how many years of my life I wasted in there thinking everything was hopeless and that there was no hope for anything to improve. I thought leaving would be too great of a risk to lose what little I already had, and ended up all but murdering the plans I had for my future, and for my career. How bad the place (with my former job) affected my physical and mental health overall in addition to all this is best left unmentioned. 

I ended up taking up on the offer because I knew that if I didn’t, I’d end up regretting it the rest of my life, deep inside I always knew this was something I’d need to do eventually anyway, I secretly always wanted to move here, and the way my then-current job was going, I felt I really had no choice. It was like jumping off a sinking ship. 

I had known for a long time something was wrong with my former boss / customer I was aiding in my old job, but nobody would really take me seriously. Instead, close to everything would be blamed on me. Everything from unpaid bills (she sometimes refused to sign them due to paranoid delusions) to her disagreeability to cooperate, every conflict, everything was blamed on me, when I was simply trying to hold all the threads together and make sure everything ran smoothly and according to all laws and reason, to the absolute best of my ability. It went to the point that I’d even spend some of my own money to buy her supplies if she refused to go to the store. I’d try to make her dress up in -30 degrees in winter when going out so that she wouldn’t get sick, as she insisted she didn’t need to dress up warmly, and offered to cook her anything she wanted but she insisted only eating the same thing every single day and then blamed it on me. Due to the same condition why she had ended up in a wheelchair, she was incapable of so much as dialing up a phone call that wasn’t pre-programmed in her phone, but she also didn’t understand everything she was told, which was a newer development alongside the delusions. I took care of almost all of her current affairs with the bank, the pharmacy, the health center, the town social services, the insurance company, and the accounting, especially whenever there was some kind of a mess, and as the result I’d repeatedly get told by her that I was trying to take advantage of or con her somehow. She would often insist something needed to be done in a certain way when she in reality had no idea what she was talking about, would mix two similar things together critically even if they had nothing to do with each other, and trying to clear things up would always lead into some kind of a conflict as this eventually meant I couldn’t perform my duties. I even ended up not taking sick leaves often due to there not always being someone to replace me, and just took every temper tantrum, every lie, every insult, every misunderstanding, every argument with her and her family who likewise blamed it all on me, at a huge cost to my mental health and tried my absolute best to find good solutions and do something about it, but was met with a wall after another... Nobody would really help me and tell me what I should do, I didn’t know who else to ask and anything the family told me either wouldn’t help or made everything worse. After some time, I just… got used to it. It was all my fault, I thought. I just wasn’t good enough an employee, regardless that I went way past the line of duty in fulfilling my responsibilities (and some things that should never have been my responsibility to begin with), but it felt like it was worthless and futile. Once she started to turn violent on me, I knew I had to go. It only happened like three times, but I knew I couldn’t go on, I had to leave. Something was very wrong, I could no longer handle all the bullshit, things would only be getting worse if I stayed, and I’d very likely eventually lose the job. As it turns out, my instincts had been 100% correct. 

Just as I’m writing this, about two hours ago I received a curious phone call from the daughter of my former boss in my old town. Some mess with some paperwork I was somehow supposed to know what to do with, but aside that, she mentioned something that made my heart skip a beat. My former boss had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s some time ago, and had been in a surgery for breast cancer this summer. There was no apology, nothing, but I knew this was her way of letting me know I had been right all along, and it would likely be the only closure I’d be getting. Now I finally know I really had done my best, I had done nothing so wrong to have deserved the treatment I got, and it was 100% the right decision to leave. She didn’t specify much, aside that things had gone south quick. I don’t know how much longer she has left, let alone how much longer she can still have personal assistants until she is permanently institutionalized, but that’s a one-way street. There’s no way out of this anymore. Had I waited until now, my chances of finding a new job would have been so much worse than they are now. Staying would’ve been a huge mistake.

Had known what I do now, I’d make the decision in a heartbeat. In hindsight, there was no way I could’ve been expected to stand the amount of bullshit I did. I’m hecking proud of myself for handling everything as well as I did as the situation really was hopeless, but also sad I didn’t jump ship sooner. There was no way I could’ve been able to or even be qualified to treat her anymore.

The new job was short lived as it was fixed-term, but it gave me vital job experience and lifted up my professional self-esteem, I made lots of important new contacts and have the best job opportunities in the country available to me now. If before I was applying to jobs due to lack of options, it’s now an overabundance of options. There’s more competition of each position though, 100 applicants or more per positions seems to be a pretty good average here, and I’m having a bit of a hard time choosing which jobs I should concentrate my efforts in as I’m very slow at applying jobs, and it can take up to a week or more for me to perfect an application. Nothing has turned up yet, but I’m not losing hope. I’m out of the hell I was in, and regardless of the new hardships I’ve faced, I’m still better off now than I was then.

TL;DR: trust your instincts. Sometimes things are just as bad or even worse as they seem, and giving up is not automatically a failure but may save you from even worse hardships. Don’t stay in a bad place in fear of things getting worse. Sometimes an opportunity that requires a huge step is the only or the best chance you’ll get. And even if things got worse for a while, they can still turn out for the better overall in the end.

[elle-stevens]

The Break Up Blog - Day One Hundred and Forty Nine

My VPN is acting up again, so I’m blogging using my laptop tonight instead. 

It’s been nice doing lots of typing on my laptop in recent days. My Cat and Robbie story is taking shape in a delightfully romantic way. 

Who knew that Ariana Grande could be such a useful muse? I feel like a large portion of the world population could’ve clued me in on this fact a long time ago, hee hee. 

Today was my last official day at my old job. 

I took some time to walk around the school running track track and roam the hallways first thing in the morning. It felt surreal poking my head in through the doors of the homerooms where I taught so many of my students English, or tried to teach them at least. 

I felt a bit like a ghost in a haunted house since most of the students are officially on holiday now and the classrooms were eerily empty. 

After that, the day whizzed by with me helping C prepare some materials for her Murder/Detective winter vacation class. Lol, she’s really stoked about getting ready for police training when she goes back to the States in a month, so she’s turning her old students into miniature police detectives investigating crime scenes. 

It’s an unusual concept for a children’s class, but I’m sure they’re having a blast learning new life skills from C. Plus, filling mini ziplock bags with powdered sugar and pretending it was cocaine was priceless! 

When it finally came down to leaving, I went around my whole office to greet my colleagues one last time. It felt good to do that, even with my colleagues I barely interacted with for two years. I wanted all of them to know in some way that any help or kindness they gave me has always been greatly appreciated. 

It felt nice showing a bit of my emotions at work and hugging my colleagues and exchanging Wechat contacts with a few of them. I hope they won’t forget me; I hope I won’t forget them either. 

CI walked me out of school too because he didn’t want me to walk outside alone after saying goodbye to everyone, which was very thoughtful of him. And then he even hugged me goodbye outside the bus station near our respective homes, which surprised me in a good way. CI’s even more reserved than me and not big on expressing affection through physical contact. So I wasn’t planning to hug him goodbye today because I wanted to respect his personal boundaries. So it was nice that he broke his usual rules with me. Even though we only worked together for a year, I’m glad I met him. He’s such a great guy and become a good friend over time. I hope that he’ll still reach out whenever he needs help with stuff or just wants to chat. I’ll do my best to look out for him this year, especially with C heading back to the States. I’ll do the same with AS too since PE and his wife will be moving to the States too at the end of his work contract in August. 

I went to the bank afterwards to withdraw some cash and just walked around near my neighbourhood for a bit. I felt pretty sad and lost after leaving my workplace. This is a new chapter in my life and I’m still not quite sure how to feel about it. 

I got home and opened a gift and read a letter that one of my colleagues gave me yesterday. I just broke down and cried a for a while after that. The letter itself was simple enough, but the sentiment just wrung my insides out like a wet sponge. I sent some voice messages to other colleagues I didn’t get a chance to see before I left. 

CH, G and D messaged me throughout the day, which was good too. I avoided messaging my loved ones all day because I was feeling emotional about my last day at work and wasn’t ready to delve into it just yet. But I’m glad they broke down my emotional barriers to check in on me. It’s nice to know that I have so many people in my life who are constantly looking out for me. 

I sent H a voice message too even though we saw each other before we both left the office today. She left earlier than me because she had to go home and pack, she’s going back permanently to Korea. She’ll come back to China briefly next month, so hopefully we can have a meal or coffee together before she departs for good. I finally told her that X and I broke up and she was very sweet and encouraging about it, telling me I deserved better and that I’ll be ok in the end. 

Even if I let H confirm her strange ‘Columbo-esque’ suspicions about my breakup bordering on practicing witchcraft (H legit guessed at all the right reasons why X and I broke up months when she gossipped about it with C without me telling her anything, it was freaky!), I feel ok about it now. I don’t want to hold onto any more bad feelings that happened at work, in either a professional or personal sense. I’m also glad I told H that she did a great job as our manager last year, even if it wasn’t always the case. I don’t want her to go away from our school feeling like she failed at managing all of us. She has a lot of good points and overall, she was still a great colleague to work with the past two years.  

I also told PE and AS more about what went down with X. We ended up at a bar after having a farewell dinner for all the teachers leaving my school last night. I was intoxicated at that point and the three of us were talking about sex and relationships. They were very sympathetic and it meant a lot to get some things off my chest. Maybe by telling more people about what happened with X, I’m slowly freeing myself from the burden of carrying her haunting memory with me everywhere I go. 

She’s invading less of my thoughts these days, especially when I’m feeling horny. That’s been very helpful not having X’s face pop into my head at awkward moments. I still think of her from time to time. It’s mostly negative thoughts about how much she sucks as a person. Other times, they’re sweet memories about little things she did that made me smile or made me happy in general. 

She was my first properly long-term relationship; of course I’m going to carry her with me for a little while longer. 

At least till I meet someone new that I love for a lot longer than X. 

A part of me thinks that I’m ready to fall in love again. 

But then I have moments like last night where I’m wandering around drunk in my city for the umpteenth time in 6 months and I feel like just another lost soul who doesn’t want to let love into my heart again. 

My birthday is coming up next week and I’ve decided to have a simple birthday dinner with my friends on Saturday instead of Wednesday, which is when my real birthday happens. I’m still not ready to acknowledge the day, as shitty as that sounds. 

It is pretty bad considering I’m lucky to be alive. Not in the sense that something bad happened to me and I almost died, but in the sense that it’s a blessing to live out a new day every single day. Instead I’m treating my birthday like it’s something horrible and disgusting, like it wasn’t one of the few things that my parents actually did right together as a couple. 

Ok, that sounded so much weirder out of my head and in written form, but you all know what I mean. 

My point is that I should be happier I get to celebrate another birthday. I’m being an idiot just because I’m turning 35, I’m single and living away from home while celebrating my birthday. 

Hence why I’ll still celebrate my birthday with my friends, but maybe just have a ‘me’ day on my real birthday. And I can still call my family on my birthday and celebrate with them. 

So yeah, I’m taking baby steps on the road to happiness and finding newer and healthier ways to deal with my issues. My therapist is out of commission these days because she has Stage 0 breast cancer and had surgery recently. So she’s recuperating at home and not seeing her patients till February so her medical insurance pays out as promised. That’s ok with me, I’m putting on my ‘big girl pants’ and trying not to need her for anything till I see her in person in February when I go home to see my family. 

So in the meantime, I’ll try not to indulge in self-destructive behaviour from now on. After my birthday, I’m going to stave off drinking for a while too. I need to take better care of my health in light of my gastritis. I just hope I can get better medication to help me with my acid reflux and dry mouth in the future. 

I made spaghetti bolognaise for dinner and slept for a few hours. Now I’m up blogging and chatting to different people through SNS. I have to get up early tomorrow to do a health check for my new Chinese work visa for this year.I hope everything goes well at the hospital since my Mandarin is still pretty shite. I hope I can get enough rest and hopefully take another nap tomorrow when I get back from the hospital. 

What? 

I have a month to myself before I visit my family in South Africa. I’m definitely going to celebrate that fact by catching up on sleep, my ever elusive friend. 

I’m a bit too tired to type up more of my new story now, but I broke my 7-year streak of not writing fanfics at work this week. So in-between cleaning out my work cupboard and cleaning my work desk, I typed up my Cat and Robbie romance, tee hee. 

Alright, time for bed. Sleep and peaceful thoughts are coming to me more easily these days now that I’m moving on gradually from all the bad shit that happened in 2019. 

For now, things are good :-)

[thebrochtuarachs]

A Right To Claim

A little expansion of Claire and Laoghaire's confrontation (1x10) plus a little imagined post-scene fic if Jamie has seen the entire thing.

A/N: Gosh, I love this scene so much. In this time in the books and series, Claire was still on the fence between her old and new life but it's in major moments like these where she's clearly falling (or fallen) in love with Jamie that I love most.

This post scene has been in my prompt for a while and after rewatching the episodes, I found the inspiration to write it. This prompt has probably been written before but I hope you like and enjoy!

Claire’s walk to the kitchen went surprisingly quick, her feet dragging her faster than she intended. It was nearly lunchtime and the kitchen will soon be bustling with hurry to feed the clansmen at Leoch.

She and Jamie rose a little late in the day. He left their bed first to help Alec in the stables while first on her agenda is a little chat with a certain blonde who left a little something underneath her bed last night.

Early in the morning, Jamie warned her against what she wanted to do, even going so far as trying to make her forget by giving her a full English breakfast to boot (nice try, Jamie!) but she couldn’t get over the idea of Laoghaire going to their private bedroom unannounced and unwelcome. At first, she understood the lassie’s frustration of “losing” (ugh!) Jamie but the ill-wish under her and Jamie’s bed was unsettling and she had to do something before it escalated even further.

Her mind was calm at first but with each step closer to Laoghaire, holding the damned item in her hand, she was surprised to find an anger – was it anger? - bubble inside her that threatened to come out.

She spotted Mrs. Fitz and Laoghaire, immediately asking for a private conversation with her granddaughter, which she obliged. Now, alone, Laoghaire broke the ice.

“If ye have something to say, say it. I have chores to tend to” Claire didn’t like her tone. She really didn’t and it was pushing her buttons. Claire might’ve – just might’ve - underestimated her a bit.

“Look familiar?” Claire raised the offending stick in front of her.

“Why should it?” Laoghaire innocently said back.

“Because you placed it under my bed” Claire accused.

“What cause would I have to do such a thing?” Laoghaire really wanted to play the dumb card and Claire had to restrain herself from completely lashing out. She took a deep breath and decided to try to talk to her rationally, hoping this path would work.

“Look, I know you have deep feelings for Jamie and that when tender regard is denied, it can be very hurtful, especially in one so young as yourself. I even understand why your jealousy would be directed at me, even though I never conspired to take Jamie away from you.” Claire even surprised herself at the lecture she was suddenly giving. Questions raced in her mind to her sudden claim of Jamie. They were married after all, that’s a big reason, she tried to justify to herself but deep in her gut, Claire knew it wasn’t just that.

It clicked then – it wasn’t just anger for Laoghaire that she felt but a possession of Jamie and all that he was that proceeded from their coupling last night. It was an unexpected realization that she, maybe, wasn’t ready to fully acknowledge just yet but here it was, in display and in full force. “The truth is, he was never yours to begin with.” The words were out of Claire’s mouth even before she comprehended what she just said.

“That’s a lie! Jamie Fraser was – and is – mine!” Laoghaire bit back at Claire, no longer hiding in shadows of her innocence. “And you did us both a wrong past bearing when you stole him away!”

“You’re mistaken, child!” Claire said through gritted teeth. She emphasized on using the word “child” hoping it would put Laoghaire back to her place. The girl knew nothing of what happened in the last 4 weeks of her marriage – how it came to be and how it has grown beyond what any of them could imagine.

“My poor Jamie, trapped in a loveless marriage, forced to share his bed with a cold English bitch” the girl held no bars but Claire thought of last night and could laugh at how inaccurate she was. Trapped, no. Loveless, definitely not. Forced, negative. “He must have to get himself swine drunk every night before he can stand to plow your field.”

Next thing Claire knew was her hand swung and made contact with Laoghaire’s cheek. It was slightly involuntary but she did not feel any regret whatsoever. “I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry” Claire said with as much sincerity as she could but she Laoghaire knew which buttons to press and should’ve, at least, seen that coming.

She didn’t intent to get violent but something about Laoghaire just made her blood boil. Claire knew of Laoghaire’s affections for Jamie, heck, in the few days they’ve been back at Castle Leoch and the story of their marriage broke through the highlands, she heard more and more stories from different girls and women, who, apparently, have lusted over Jamie for years. They spoke gaelic when talking about such matters and sure, she didn’t understand it all but she understood enough. Claire felt a little jealousy but more so pride because at the end of the day, she knew which bed Jamie laid his head on.

Laoghaire held her reddening cheek and Claire saw a shift in her demeanor that told her that it was on. “Aye, I did put that ill-wish ‘neath yer bed in the hope that it would make Jamie hate ye as much as I do.” she confessed. “He belongs with me, and one day, it will be so.” She declared.

“Well, I hope the price you paid wasn’t too dear because that will never happen” Claire said confidently, stepping closer to Laoghaire, using her tall frame to her advantage, but her opponent was going to fight her cause.

“Yer wrong about Jamie just as ye’re wrong about yer friend, Geillis. It was she who sold me the ill wish” Claire’s glass face betrayed her and Laoghaire immediately saw through it. “It surprises ye, doesn’t it? Good.”

She could not believe her friend will do that. Surely, she had no idea what the Laoghaire was to make use of it. But Geillis was there when Jamie took Laoghaire’s beating, been here long enough to learn of the castle’s gossip – that’s not important, she’ll deal with that later.

“Just stay away from me AND my husband.” Claire said in finality, making sure to emphasize who Jamie belonged to then walked away.

Her cheeks were slightly warm from the silly fight with Laoghaire. Damn her and damn Jamie for choosing this woman to have a “swiving” with. She decided to walk back to her surgery hoping to get distance from Laoghaire and the sure gossip she’ll spread around about how Claire mistreated her or something else she’ll make up. More gossip around is sure coming her way.

She opened the door to her surgery to find Jamie sitting on one of tables.

“Jamie! What are you doing here? Are you hurt?” In two strides, she was in front of him, the healer in her in full active mode, rummaging through each part of his body, looking for something wrong.

“Aye, I think there’s a splinter in my hand” Jamie help out in hand and she took it, bringing it close to her face, examining closely how he could’ve managed such a thing in his hand’s calloused state. Just as she was to protest that she can’t see anything, in one swift motion, Jamie grabbed her face and pulled to his lips for a hasty kiss.

Claire went weak to the knees but thankfully, was able to grab at the back of Jamie’s neck for support. The kiss went on and on as if air weren’t an issue, their hands eventually taking stock from Jamie’s curls to Claire’s waist, their heated moment ending with ragged breathes, foreheads close together, Claire perfectly settled between Jamie’s legs with a smile blooming from their lips.

Mine and no one else’s, she professed in her mind.

“Bloody Scot” she joked, tugging him close. This, she thought. This is what it is all about. Just them, in peace, in privacy, in passion, holding each other, whispering sweet nothings to another, trusting, touching, kissing and so much more that they couldn’t (or wouldn’t) define.

“Your bloody scot” Jamie teased back and it hit Claire. She tried to pull away but Jamie chased her with another kiss to her lips and she settled back.

“How much did you hear?” Claire asked, curious. She nor Laoghaire heard anybody enter.

“All of it.” Jamie replied. He was about to grab some bannocks from the kitchen, hoping to find Claire afterwards for some afternoon delight but stopped when he heard her voice echo through the hallways, became surprised when he heard her talking to Laoghaire. He didn’t want Claire to talk to the lass but of course, she didn’t listen to him. Despite that, Jamie was curious and hung back to watch the discussion happen. He had to fight the urge to cut at Laoghaire but his heart swelled each time Claire defended their marriage – he did not need to interfere after all.

“I heard ye demand answers but Laoghaire was acting too innocent. Then ye tried to reason with her but she got triggered and started laying claim on me and insulting our bed. Then my second favorite part, Sassenach, was when yer hand came flying to her cheek. I had to keep myself from cheering ye on.” Jamie kissed her cheek softly sensing her growing embarrassment.

“You don’t mind that I did? Everybody in the castle probably knows about it by now. Do you know the rumors being spread around me?” Claire said, suddenly feeling insecure and vulnerable of Jamie’s coming honest answer.

“No. I knew before I marrit ye that you’d not be the meek and obedient type, Sassenach…that ye’re one fierce lassie who’d always speak her mind, stand up to others especially those in the wrong. No, Claire, I dinna mind. And those rumors around, I kent they aren’t true.” Jamie knew her, the kind of woman she was, the kind not of this century and he didn’t mind at all and if Claire was reading him right, he looked a little proud even.

“What else did you hear?” Claire asked, willing to hear more.

“Then she confessed to putting the ill-wish between us then said something about Geillis, then my favorite thing – when you told her to stay away from me and you” he kissed her on her other cheek. “I ken how it feels when I lay claim to ye but it feels so much better hearing ye say it to other people” Jamie turned to explore her neck and she could feel his smile as he peppered her with soft kisses along the path.

“Jamie?” she called out, her voice a different tone that had him stop his ministrations and look directly in her amber eyes.

“You are mine?” Claire softly but bluntly asked. In the heat of passion, Jamie laid claim on her and now she’s laying and declaring one on him. She needed to know and hear directly from him that there is no one else as long as they were together.

Jamie couldn’t believe the slight hesitation in her tone. Hadn’t she known that she’s owned him since the first time I saw her? That he panicked when she said that she can’t marry him? That every part of his life is now better because of her? She probably didn’t know yet – and now is not the time but he can offer her something else for the meantime.

“Always, mo nighean donn. Always.” He replied and he saw her entire face light up in approval. She brought their lips together again and what started as tenderness, slowly built up to a growing need that led them to finally christen the surgery with their love.

They had their first major fight as a couple and overcame it. Now, everything was set right with them again but the future loomed still unsure. But it didn’t matter because what was important was they wanted each other, they said as much last night in darkness of the evening and proved it again in the morning and it was enough.

They couldn’t say those words yet but now, they had a deeper understanding of their relationship and the feelings within them. There was something more between them and it was a powerful thing that neither of them could stop or deny. What else to do than surrender to it and let it run its course to wherever it takes them.

Unspoken but not for long.

I love you.

I love you, too.

[canaryatlaw]

okay, so today was pretty good. I woke up to my alarm at 11:45 for PT, got ready and walked there. The session was fine, nothing very remarkable about it. Afterwards when I was walking home there were people from charities out canvasing which is a fairly common sight, I ended up stopping and talking to a guy from one called People’s Action who are working to end mass incarceration  and advocate for a fairer legal system (I told him up front that I was a student and had no income so I couldn’t donate, but we had a pleasant conversation anyway). We were very much on the same wavelength about things, we talked about the new DA in Philadelphia and how he was instrumental in getting Meek Mills released from prison recently, he was talking about reforms the Chicago SA has been instituting and I was telling him about the JTDC and how there were children locked up in there for sometimes over a year. They’re currently pushing for a bill that’s in the Illinois legislature to end money bail throughout the state, basically meaning if someone is arrested on a low level offense, they would be booked and processed, but then released subject to bail conditions such as ankle monitoring and such, the idea being that nobody stays in jail simply because they can’t afford to pay their way out, which is a huge reason for incarceration and the main cause behind most of the inmates at the Cook County Jail right now (note jail is different than prison, prisons don’t usually house people who are pre-trial). So he gave me the name of that legislation and how I could talk to my elected representatives about supporting it (he said he was pretty sure the rep for where I live was signed on, but it’s always good to let them know we’re supporting their position). So that was a pleasant little discussion (pleasant being a relative term, of course). So I got home and started on my baking projects for the day, one being the bread I wanted to make into cheesy garlic bread. I had bought a package of frozen pizza dough a while back, and there’s a recipe on the back to turn it into italian bread instead, and I had let the last one I had thaw out yesterday so I could cook it today, first I had to split it into two loaves and then leave it to rise for 2-3 hours, so I set that up, then started working on my caramels. It was the same recipe I used before and liked, I’ve just learned to change up the temperatures according to how I like them lol mainly leaving them on longer so they get harder and chewier, which is how I like them. there were a few potentially dicey moments when I was adding the heavy cream and butter (if you’ve ever made caramel before you know when you add the heavy cream it legit starts bubbling violently and can be rather intense) probably because I added too much too quickly, and it threatened to bubble over but eventually subsided. I then left them on until they got to like 260 instead of 240 like the recipe said before taking it off the stove and pouring it into a pan to harden, then topped it with sea salt because any good caramel has to be salted these days. It was around 4 at that point and they were supposed to sit for 3 1/2 hours, so I had some time obviously. I did the dishes in the sink, then finally started to finish cleaning my room. I had done a good bit of it last week with cleaning up the clothes that were really the main issue, but I just had a lot of other clutter and random things hanging about that I mainly stuffed either under my bed or in my closet, because those are really the only places I have to put stuff, lol. Hopefully this weekend I can get around to pulling out my clothing and deciding what I want to do with what exactly, keep it or hand, or store, or donate, so hopefully that will work out. Around 5:30 when the bread was done rising I put it in the oven, then when it was done I sliced one of the loaves open and started the cheesy garlic bread part, which is actually very easy because it’s only melted butter, garlic powder, and shredded cheese (of course you could go for the more authentic garlic flavoring by using actual garlic, but in my experience the garlic powder tastes fine). Once that was done I sat down on the couch and had some time to kill before Arrow came on, so I watched last week’s Blindspot that I hadn’t gotten around to yet. I think I only have last night’s Krypton to catch up on now, though I’ll have another Blindspot episode to watch tomorrow night, but it’s the season finale so I’m almost done with that. I’m gonna have to find some good shows to binge over the summer when all my shows are over and I need to decompress from bar studying. Soon enough after that it was Arrow time. Now, to be clear, the only reason I was watching was for Dinah Drake, Black Siren, and Sara Lance, I didn't really give a fuck about anybody else (besides like, Quentin, I guess). Oliver I really don’t give a shit about at this point, and even Felicity has become pretty meh to me because they can’t seem to write her as a character independent from her relationship with Oliver. The opening with them attacking the police prescient with the FBI was pretty bad ass, and done really well, so they get credit for that. The episode went on, I was worried for a moment that they were gonna kill off Rene when they had him call his daughter and I was like OH GOD DO NOT DO THIS TO ME so I was glad they got out of there alive. Then there was Quentin clearly only caring about getting Laurel back, and I’m sorry but I refuse to believe you can GPS track A FUCKING PACEMAKER even when I know they’ve done it with someone else on here at some point, but as soon as he said it to Oliver I was like okay that’s gonna be important so it was good that that was picked up soon. I mean, literally everyone knew they were gonna kill Quentin, and that it’d most likely be in the form of him sacrificing himself to save Laurel, so when he quite literally took a bullet for her that wasn’t really a surprise. When she called him “Dad” my heart definitely broke a little bit. Then everyone else stormed in and I was really just wanting Laurel to rip that stupid collar off her neck and scream at Diaz, but actually having Dinah come to her assist and help her get Quentin out of there was like, such a really well done moment for both of them, I loved it. Then of course there was Oliver being stupid with Diaz and not just putting a fucking arrow into him like he should’ve, like you could’ve grabbed that USB data off his neck if he stopped breathing??? We know thinking isn’t your strong suit buddy but come on. Not gonna lie, Laurel coming in and being like “oh, that movie you were talking about, it was old yeller” before literally blasting him off the building with her scream was so fucking great, I just wish it had actually killed him so we didn’t have to deal with anymore of this bullshit. If he’s actually like, a villain next season I’m gonna be pissed because he needs to just be done. Then of course we had everybody at the hospital with Quentin in ~stable~ condition going into surgery, and getting to have a nice long goodbye chat with Oliver, only for them to have Sara show up after he already went into surgery so she didn’t get FUCKING SAY GOODBYE to her FUCKING FATHER and just shows up in time to hear that he’s dead, because has the universe not dealt Sara Lance enough heartbreak already, you really gotta keep killing the people she loves???? that shit pissed me off, because it would’ve been so fucking easy for them to have her there earlier and at least get to say goodbye, this was just being unnecessarily cruel. I did appreciate that she at least got to speak to Black Siren, I would’ve liked a more in-depth conversation but it’s a start at least. I did of course feel for Laurel as well, we know she has to be dealing with a lot of grief and heartbreak based on the relationship her and Quentin had built up over the last season and him quite literally becoming a father to her. And now of course she has nobody, like who is going to help her now? the only other person who maybe would was Oliver, and OH WAIT he’s getting taken off to prison now. I mean, I guess they could have Dinah reach out to her which my DinahSiren shipper heart would adore, I would be really happy if that happened for next season, but I don’t really want to get my hopes up about it. But yeah, about that whole Oliver getting arrested thing. I know I was going on two weeks ago about how brilliant it was that they ended the case the way they did because it put double jeopardy rules into play so they couldn’t try him again, but double jeopardy doesn’t apply to federal charges (which is frankly something a lot of people, myself included, think is unconstitutional, but it’s the law for now), so he could be charged under federal statutes for crimes, however they would have to establish federal jurisdiction over the crimes, such as them occurring on federal land, or a series of other factors, because federal and state jurisdiction isn't always concurrent. It is of course very rare that federal charges are brought after someone is acquitted of state charges for the reasons I outlined above, it may not be double jeopardy by law but a lot of people view it that way regardless. They also made it really unclear as to what his situation was, like was he getting charged and going to trial or had he essentially entered a plea of some sort? I mean, if the charge is for like 35 murders (or however many they can claim federal jurisdiction for) there’s no way he’s getting an actual plea less than life in prison without parole (as opposed to the death penalty) so idk how that would work. but I really didn’t feel emotionally invested in that plot at all because I just didn’t believe the stakes, like sure he may spend a few months in prison until next season starts but we all know he’s going to get out and somehow take up his vigilante identity again. I wasn’t surprised that he went public about being the green arrow, I mean, Oliver did it in season 10 of Smallville so at this point I was pretty sure it was gonna be happening any time now. As far as the scene of him walking through the prison to his cell, that’s bullshit, because they would have him in protective custody being that like half the people in the prison want to kill him. but yeah, I guess that’s where we’re leaving off for now. I honestly really hope they make season 7 the last, it’s a solid place to end a series without it getting too drawn out (because let’s be real, it’s already being drawn out) and at this point I feel like they’re just getting close to Oliver’s narrative journey. Of course the characters can still be a part of the universe and show up in crossovers or just make cameos in the different shows, so it’s not like they'd really be going anywhere permanently. As far as the news coming out of the CW Upfronts today, I did chuckle a little at Supergirl getting moved to the Sunday night slot and Legends permanently taking over Monday (sorry SG fans) and it leading into Arrow, because that’s apparently the way they want to do things now. As far as the fact that Batwoman/Kate Kane is going to be part of the crossover next year, I can’t have much of an opinion there because I’m not terribly invested in the Batman mythos to the point where I’d really have any knowledge about her, the most I’ve really seen was watching Batman The Animated Series and of course that isn’t very much, so I guess we’ll have to see where they go with that. Someone on twitter said Legends should be leading the crossover next season, which I very much agree with, they've definitely earned it at this point. Well, once Arrow was over I just watched the Great British Baking Show Masterclass which is just the two judges making their perfect versions of the different challenges they had the contestants make in the bake off, because it’s very soft and British and does not hurt me the way the Arrowverse does, so that was pleasant, and I watched that until I started getting ready for bed. I have an early morning, it’ll be my first day at my mini internship at the DV Clinic, just on Fridays through the end of June. I would really have liked to have known about the NY job by now so I could have a better idea of how I stand there, but I guess I’ll just have to be pulling out all the stops to make myself the most useful worker that they won’t want me to leave, whether I end up needing a job or not. That’s the plan, anyway, as far as things I’ve already done there I’m pretty good at all of them, I can do OPs of course and I’ve interviewed clients, both over the phone and in person, and of course I can step up in court on status updates and such which it sounds like would be most of what I’m doing in court, so that’s all good. Well, it’s 12:30 am and I have to wake up at 6:55 am to get there by 8:30, so I really should be getting to bed now. Goodnight my loves. Happy Friday.