#i tried to go back to the psych office i used to go to but bc its been so long they consider me a new client

[treypug]

💊

[dovveri]

ordinarily

synopsis: you’re having a few issues with your sex life so you decide to start seeing a sex therapist with your boyfriend

warnings: reader receiving, cheating, lots of sex talk bcs this entire fic is literally set around sex, fingering, clitoral stimulus, vibrators, dildos + strap on, sana watches reader masturbate

w/c: 7.8k

a/n: if u didn't know im a psych student and this idea came to me at 3am while cramming sexual dysfunctions for my finals and i ltr wrote this in a few hours bcs i was OBSESSED - that being said this is all still fictional bcs... let's be honest i js wanted to have sex with dr sana but some of the facts are still real! the treatment however... not so real LMAO

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“ms. l/n?”

“yes!” you scramble upwards at the sound of your name, pulling your boyfriend up with you and walking briskly towards the woman who’s called you. she offers a kind smile, gesturing for you to follow her.

“is it alright if i bring my boyfriend along?”

she nods, “yes that’s fine. it’s actually customary that both partners are here for appointments like these.”

she leads you towards her office, a clean, organised room with a small couch next to the doctor’s table and chair, and what looks like an upgraded version of a classic examination table.

she seats you both and rolls her chair forward so she’s facing the both of you when she talks. “so how can i help you today ms. l/n?” her eyes are kind, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“u-um just y/n is fine dr. …” you glance to her badge, “minatozaki.”

“alright y/n. sana is fine for me too then.” she smiles.

“r-right sana. so we’ve just been having some trouble with our- um- sex life recently and i think it’s mainly my fault.”

she frowns a little, picking up a notepad on her table to jot down some things, “why would you think that?”

“um well- i- i haven’t um- i’ve never had a penis in me before. my previous male partners would only ever use their hands or mouth but because we were getting a little more serious than that, i wanted to let ben-“ you glance at your boyfriend who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat a little, “be the first and we’ve tried for a while now but it’s always just too painful? and i know everyone says the pain passes and whatever but it never seems to pass for me…” you blush, getting progressively embarrassed as you go on.

"i see. do you mind if i ask you a few questions about your sex life?"

you nod, feeling intimidated by the things she's jotting down into her notepad.

"how long has this been going on?"

"umm- i'd say we've tried to have penetrative sex for about 2 months now?"

"have you ever experienced anything like this before?"

"no."

"do you have any history of previous mental health problems?"

"not really, no."

"when you attempt to have sex, do you engage in foreplay?"

"u-um... yes."

"and are you able to secrete natural lubricant from that?"

ben lets out an undignifed snort. you elbow him, face burning red when sana looks up from her notepad, narrowing her eyes at ben who shrinks in his seat, covering his mouth.

"u-um yes i think so."

"ben? is this true?" sana's eyes are locked on ben.

"sorry doc are you asking me if my girlfriend gets wet?"

"for lack of better words yes."

"well yes she gets plenty wet. i always make sure she's turned on before i go in. if you’re asking about if i'm good at sex then yes. i am. plenty of girls in the past have cum because of me."

"i didn't ask that but thank you for your contribution." sana says a little sarcastically, looking back towards you and then down to her notepad. you elbow ben again in response who glances at you slightly annoyed, the tips of his ears red.

"what sorts of foreplay activity do you engage in, does it arouse you, and on average how long would you say your foreplay would go on for?"

"i- um- i-"

"this is a safe space. everything i'm asking is purely for diagnosis reasons, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, i deal with lots of clients everyday who come in and have talked about much more bizarre things and none of them are nearly as attractive as you are which makes it a lot worse when someone comes in here claiming they have sexual proclivities towards aliens or otherworldly beings."

you blush, the throwaway compliment in there didn't fly past you. "do people really ask about that?"

sana chuckles a little, "oh you'd be surprised the things people come in here about."

you laugh a little in response as well, feeling more comfortable around the doctor, "um well i guess we do all the normal stuff. kissing, whatever, um it usually lasts about... 10 minutes?" you turn to ben who shakes his head a little so you correct yourself, "20 minutes maybe. and um yeah i guess it does arouse me."

sana hums, making a few more notes, "are your nipples sensitive? your breasts? does he play with them? what about your clitoris?"

"i- um- yes... to all of those."

"have you ever orgasmed before?"

"i- yes."

she senses the hesitation in your voice, looking up curiously, "have you orgasmed during sexual relations with ben?"

you shuffle in your seat a little uncomfortably. ben looks at you expectedly, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"yes. yes she has." ben replies for you instead when he realises you're not responding.

sana's eyes cut to his with a scowl forming on her face, "did you know only 64.4% of women are able to reach their orgasm during sex? and that number is even lower when the sex is just penetrative? in comparison, 91.3% of men reach their orgasm, in fact, sexual dysfunction in men is actually more common when men orgasm too fast."

ben raises an eyebrow defiantly, "your point doc?"

"that it's normal for women not to reach orgasm. and normal for them to fake it when their boyfriends are pretentious assholes that think they have the best game in the world but in reality, have inflated egos that would easily be shattered if he found out he wasn't as good as he thought he was. most of these women care too much about hurting their partner's feelings than to tell the truth."

ben leans forward aggressively, ignoring your protests for him to sit back down, "i don't know what kinda whack patients you got in here doc but i'm not one of them. i don't need anyone to worry about my feelings like you women do."

sana rolls her eyes, not backing down from his intimidation, "do you have any problems with sexual activity? come too fast? not able to get it up? not able to come?"

ben sputters, "w-what?! who do you think i am?!"

"it's a yes or no question."

"no! i don't have any of those problems! i told you i'm not one of your weird patients!"

"alright that's all we'll be needing from you today. i think this session will be much more productive for y/n if you leave the room. so if you'd please-" she stands up and opens the door, indicating for him to leave.

"what? you can't just kick me out! this is my girlfriend! i'm just as involved in this as she is!"

"actually, since you haven't admitted to having any problems with sex, and you've both said that foreplay and arousal is adequate, there's nothing more that involves you. so yes, i can kick you out."

ben looks back at you, his face red, but you push him forward, "just go ben don't make a scene. i'll see you outside." he frowns, sending a final glare to sana before stomping out the room.

sana closes the door softly after him, settling back down with a sigh.

"i'm so sorry about him i didn't know he would react like that i-"

"it's okay y/n. this is actually quite common. sexual dysfunction is often severely underreported in men, because of the masculine standards they put themselves up to, lots of them won't seek treatment. that's why most of the clients we get are women who come in here with their boyfriends, and a lot of the time these boyfriends don't think they have anything to do with the women's sexual dysfunction, and a lot of them can't accept that they do."

"but you just said-"

"i know what i said. and it's true that if your foreplay is indeed enough and arousing for you, and that this isn't because of any sexual dysfunction he may have, then it no longer directly regards him. however, just because it doesn't directly involve him, doesn't mean it's got absolutely nothing to do with him. i do think i have an idea of what you're going through, but to confirm i'd like to ask a couple more questions if that's okay with you? and hopefully you can be fully honest with me now that ben isn't here."

you shuffle in your seat a little. "yeah of course."

she smiles, going back to her notepad, "so backtracking a bit, i'm assuming ben hasn't been able to make you orgasm?"

you blush, shaking your head.

"how about with previous partners? is there anything they've done that's helped you reach that orgasm or are there any similarities you can think about between them?"

"mm well for one, i've only ever been able to come when i'm with women."

"oh?" sana looks up again over her specs, a twinkle in her eye.

"u-um yeah and with them it's mostly um, using their hands or oral, and even then i normally need at least some clitoral stimulation to come. i have tried using dildos before but i also find it a little too painful, but i'm at least able to bear it when it's with a woman, with ben i kinda just push him off because it's all too much."

"i see. that's quite normal. most women do require clitoral stimulation to be able to orgasm. a very small proportion of women are actually able to come from penetration alone. do you masturbate?"

you blush again, fiddling with your fingers, but her friendly smile reassures you, "yes. well- less since i've been with ben because he doesn't really like it when he finds out i've touched myself. he gets a little offended and always says i don't need to masturbate when i have him. he takes offense because he thinks i'm doing it since he's not doing a good enough job or something."

"hmm." she hums, jotting something else down, "is he doing a good enough job? i know you said foreplay was fine but i just wanted to check in on that again."

"he's alright i guess. like most men i've been with in the past he does kinda rush things a little, and he does do foreplay it's just a little rougher than i like sometimes. i also think um-" you blush, eyes flickering around the room.

"mm?" sana smiles gently again, encouraging you.

"i think he has trouble finding my clit? or i don't know he always kinda fumbles around when he fingers me so his hands always brush against my clit a little too rough and then he presses down on parts where he thinks it is and asks me if it feels good."

sana hums again, writing down some more notes before the next question. "so back to masturbation, before ben, how often would you say you masturbated?"

"oh u-um, maybe like once a month?"

"and you're able to make yourself come?"

"sometimes. sometimes it just gets too tiring and i end up just falling asleep."

"i see." sana writes a few finishing notes and then places her notepad on the table. "so from what you've told me today, it would seem like you have something called genito-pelvic pain or penetration disorder. normally this sort of behaviour has to go on for at least 6 months before it is diagnosable, but even though it’s only been two months for you, we can still work on ways to improve your symptoms. so there's nothing physically wrong with you or your body, this is more of a cognitive response to a fear of pain from penetration. what happens is because of this fear, you're vaginal muscles tighten when you're about to have sex, they're trying to protect you from this invasive thing that's going to enter your body and that it thinks will cause you a lot of pain. this is why it's so much more painful when someone does penetrate you, because you're muscles are already working actively to try and push it out, they only get tighter and tighter making sex more painful for you. this kinda creates this cycle of fear because it does hurt when you have sex, so the next time it happens, your muscles learn to anticipate this pain and try to close you off from this external invasion. does that kinda make sense?"

you nod a little hazily, the words floating around in your head.

"it's a good thing that you're still able to take penetration though. in some extreme cases women's vaginas have been sealed so tight penis penetration is impossible. now there aren't any medications for this unfortunately, but the main treatment is to unlearn this fear that's maintaining the disorder, and eventually you'll be able to engage in sex that is enjoyable for you again."

"how would i unlearn that?"

"well first of all, masturbation helps. a lot. you say you were only really doing it once a month in the past but actually, masturbating weekly or even twice a week is perfectly normal. and i know you said your boyfriend doesn't really like it but... well it's your body right? if he can't make you feel good then you need to start learning how to make yourself feel good. you need to start turning sex into a positive experience again. later down the line, that also means a lot more foreplay than what you're currently doing. i'm talking like an hour at least. using lube as well will be extremely useful, even if you are wet, it always helps to be fully prepared for that first penetration. i know this all sounds like a lot right now so we'll start slow. would you mind getting up on the examination table and taking off your pants and underwear. i'd like to examine your pelvic muscles a little more closely."

you nod, shuffling onto your feet and beginning to strip out of your clothes. sana pays you no mind, grabbing a new pair of gloves and slipping them on. you figure sana has done this plenty of times in the past, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. well... aside from the fact that sana was really pretty and her really pretty hands were about to be touching you and-

she's turning back around when you lay on the examination table, hands crossed on your stomach, fiddling with your fingers. you avoid her gaze but catch the way her eyes linger a little on your legs. she moves closer towards you, you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, feeling the tips of your ears go red at the attention.

she giggles a little and you're confused, "y/n you have to open your legs for me to be able to see anything."

"oh right i- um-" you shyly spread your legs apart, revealing your cleanly shaven lips.

sana squeezes something into her hand, "this is just lube. to see your pelvic muscles in action means i'll have to part your walls so i'm just lubricating them to make it a little more comfortable for you." she looks up at you, waiting for your consent, and when you nod, she gets straight to work.

you gasp at the cold feeling of the lubricant running down your folds, wiggling a little. then, sana's hands come in and start massaging the lube along your folds, spreading it so it covers the entire surface area of your core, fingers gentle as she spreads the liquid. your breath catches a little when she bypasses your clit, squeezing your hands together, and trying your best to not make any inappropriate sounds while in your doctor's office.

you sneak a glance down at her, watching the way she has her lip caught between her teeth while she focuses, eyes glued to your folds. she spreads your lips and starts applying the lube on your inner folds as well, meticulous with her work, making sure no slice of skin was missed.

"i'm going to start prodding around your entrance now alright?"

you can only choke out a hum in response, not trusting your voice to give away the fact that this was turning you on very much.

one of her fingers glides down to your entrance, her other hand still holding your lips open, and she starts to poke gently at your entrance, you can feel when a short fingernail dips in just slightly, wiggling around a little to try and loosen you up. at this point you're kinda glad sana went with the lube because it meant she couldn't tell she was actually getting you spectacularly wet on her own, your own slick mixing with the lube she's spread all over.

she starts pushing a finger in very slowly, but you cringe a little and shuffle your hips when she's about a knuckle in. she pulls out gently, "hurts?"

you nod, "a little."

she starts pressing gently against your folds again, "i'm just going to try massage your folds from the outside, hopefully it'll get your muscles to relax a little with some stimulation."

it is relaxing, the way she's gently pressing into you, it’s certainly never like anything you’ve felt before, it turns you on, but also eases you, it’s a combination you’ve never experienced.

when she gently runs a finger over the hood of your clit your hips jerk and you gasp.

“sorry! too much?” sana backs away quickly, hands raised so you can see she’s no longer touching you.

you inhale, forcing yourself to look at her, your gaze a little blurry, eyes lidded, “n-no. that was- g-good actually.” your voice is a lot scratchier than it was, you can’t believe how turned on you are from just minutes of being with her. “a-actually would it- um- are you allowed to take your gloves off? like if you want to! you don’t have to if you think it’s gross or anything i just think it could help a little so you can feel exactly where your skin and nails touch me.”

sana raises an eyebrow, seeming to consider you, and you want to crawl back into your pants, run away and never see be seen in public again the longer she takes to regard you.

but then wordlessly, she takes her gloves off, flicking them into the bin and reaching for the bottle of lube.

“oh um- you don’t have to. i’m wet enough i think.”

sana smirks then, squeezing some into her palm, “oh sweetie i know. remember what i said about lubing up anyway though? there can never be too much lube.”

you blush at the pet name, gritting your teeth when you feel the cool liquid and the soft touch of her fingers again. except this time it’s so much more real, you can feel every single brush, every stroke, every movement of her fingers against you. when she brushes against your clit again, you can’t help the faint moan you let out. your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you feel her still her movements against you. “s-sorry i-“

“it’s okay. you can make as many sounds as you want. just relax. stop thinking sweetie.” she brushes over your clit again, with a little more purpose this time, and you let out another whimper, trying to stop your hips from grinding against her hand.

the next few minutes are torturous. you're biting back moans every 2 seconds, focusing on keeping your hips solidly on the examination table, hands clenched tight together, you’re so wet you can hear the way she's sliding through your folds much more easily now, able to insert the entire length of her fingernail in with each stroke downwards. your breathing has gotten observably heavier, each inhale and exhale is strained, and you certainly couldn’t look at sana anymore, eyes glazed, just trying to focus on not giving yourself away.

"i’m gonna try go in again now okay?"

you nod, a little desperately, closing your eyes to block out the sight of her between your legs.

she gently prods at your entrance, now able to slide a knuckle in fairly easily, you feel like jelly around her, unable to control your own movements when you jolt downwards, sucking in more of her finger and moaning at the feeling.

“alright?”

“mhm just- just do it.”

“do what sweetie?”

“just- you know-“

“hmm?” she slips a little further in, and you clench around her, your muscles trying to trap her inside of you.

“f-fuck- i- yeah- fuck-“

she giggles a little and you flush, you realise again that she’s very attractive and very good with her hands and those hands are now inching even deeper into you, and before you know it, she’s got her entire finger buried inside of you.

you’re breathless at the feeling.

“painful at all?”

“n-no. not at all. feels- um- g-good.”

you can hear the smirk in her voice when she teases, “you feel good.”

you clench around her at the praise, unaware that sana’s trying her very best to stay as professional as possible, despite wanting so badly to rid you of all your clothes and fuck you until you were moulded to only be able to take her.

“relax baby. i’m going to slide back out now okay?”

you whine when you feel her retreating slowly, your walls gripping her finger, urging her to stay inside. but she comes out until just the tip of her finger is in you, and then pushes in again, filling you up deliciously.

you exhale deeply, back arching at the feeling.

“good?”

“fuck- so fucking good oh god-“

she’s pulling out and pushing in again, slow and careful, watching your body for any signs of pain and fixed on the way your face contorts in pleasure at the feeling of being sexually satisfied for the first time in months.

“think you can take another?” you peek open your eyes to find that sana looks slightly more dishevelled than before, her breathing also a little irregular now, her voice low with lust. you gulp at the sight.

“y-yeah.”

now that you've caught a glimpse of her, you can't look away, your eyes tracing the way her gaze is a little clouded, her tongue peaking out to wet her lips. then she's pushing in again with a second finger, rubbing your clit lightly with her other hand and pressing down onto the external parts of your folds to get you to loosen up.

you suck her in easily, whimpering a little when she stops and looks up at you in concern.

"k-keep going p-please- i can take it- fuck-"

so she continues her journey, pressing in deeper, and deeper, until she's able to fit two fingers snugly inside of you. you moan when she fills you up, pulsing around her, muttering curses and hands moving to hold onto the sides of the examination table.

but then, sana's pulling out again, and this time she doesn't come back. she clears her throat, moving towards the sink in her office to wash herself up.

you clamber onto your elbows hazily, completely soaked and watch in confusion as she dries her hands, her cheeks flushed.

"i think that's enough for today y/n. you can use the sink and this towel here to clean yourself up and get dressed. i'll wait for you outside." she doesn't spare you another glance and slips outside the room, closing it behind her to give you some privacy.

you take a second to recover because what the fuck just happened? you can only follow her instructions dumbly, picking up the towel she's left for you and cleaning yourself up, still incredibly sensitive when you twitch with each swipe along your folds. you put your clothes back on and rearrange your hair so that it doesn't look like you were just about to come mere minutes ago.

once you're tidied up and you've cleared your mind, or at least pushed all the lustful thoughts about being fucked into the table aside, you step outside the office, looking around to find that sana's with ben at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.

you clear your throat to announce your presence when you walk up to them. ben seems to have calmed down and he kisses your cheek sweetly when you sidle up next to him. you take note of the way sana eyes the action, her grip on the pen getting just a little tighter.

"alright y/n. i talked with ben to get an idea of your availability so i hope it's okay that i've booked you in for another session in about 2 weeks."

"yes that's fine!" your voice comes out unintentionally higher than you meant it to. the nerves and confusion hitting you at once.

"and i'll also set you a little homework. like we talked about, masturbation is key to getting better. so here's a self-care kit, it's got a clitoral vibrator and a few different dildo sizes as well as a couple of bottles of lube. i want you to try using the vibrator first, get used to the feeling of orgasming, and then start to bring in the smallest dildo. ben can watch if you want him to or help, but just remember what i said about making sex a positive experience. that's the main purpose of all of this, just relearning that sex is good and that it’s meant to be fun and enjoyable. i'll check with you in 2 weeks how the progress is going and we'll go from there. any questions?"

the entire time she talks to you, she barely looks into your eyes, it's clear she's already discussed all of this with ben who looks more than happy to be a bystander to your sexual pleasure if it meant he would be able to have sex with you later on. you find yourself a little disappointed that she won't acknowledge you. you shake your head no, and she slides you a few forms and the self-care package she mentioned, discreetly wrapped and in a cute little takeaway bag.

"great i'll see you in two weeks y/n. if you'll excuse me now." she sidesteps you and walks briskly back into her office, your eyes trail after her, but you shake the feelings from your head, refocusing on the present and the way ben has his arm wrapped around you.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

it's a fortnight later and you're sitting in a familiar waiting room, this time without ben because you convinced him to stay behind after his retaliatory actions the last time he was here. maybe you also just wanted to see sana alone but you weren't going to tell him that.

if you were being honest, sana hasn't left your mind once since you left the clinic two weeks ago. even when you were completing her assigned homework tasks, it wasn't broad muscles and rugged facial hair that you were thinking of, no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts always drifted back to the way sana had handled you so carefully, the way her fingers felt inside you, how she paid attention to every single reaction you made, every small sound, twitch, how attentive she was. and sometimes your thoughts drifted into territory that was a little more imaginative. those usually consisted of sana using the various toys she'd given you to bring you to heights you weren't able to bring yourself to.

"y/n?"

your head snaps up at the voice. you beam seeing her, she has her hair up today, pretty earrings and perfect features accentuated. she smiles in response at you, gesturing you to follow her to her office.

you settle into the familiar office again, much more relaxed and excited than the last time you were here.

"i see you're looking a lot more chipper than 2 weeks ago." sana comments with a smile, grabbing her notepad that you recognise from last week.

"just happy to see you again."

her smile fades a little at that, but you don't let that discourage you.

"right... so tell me how your fortnight has been. have you attempted to have sex with your boyfriend again? uh... bryson was it? or brendan?"

"ben. and no we haven't had sex again. i also took your advice and let masturbation be just a personal experience. he asked to watch and help but i told him it would be better if he didn't."

"that's good to hear. how has the masturbation been?"

"great! you were right! i've forgotten what having sex just for the sake of doing it for myself felt like. i've spent so long thinking i enjoyed it when i was really just an item for my partner's satisfaction. in a sense that brought me joy as well, being able to provide a source of happiness for them, but i realised that that's not a healthy thing to keep doing."

sana smiles genuinely, "very good y/n. i'm glad that masturbation has helped you realised that. how about your vaginal muscles? did you try using the dildos in the self care package?"

"um- yes i did but- i was actually hoping- uh-"

"hmm? what is it?"

"well i still haven't really been able to cum from using the dildos, only from the vibrator. it's not as painful anymore to put them in, and i'm still working up the sizes, but it still doesn't really feel good? like it just feels like there's something in me, it doesn't really derive pleasure or anything like that."

sana hums, thinking a little, writing down a few notes before closing her notepad. "would you show me?"

"i- um- sorry what?"

"how you've been masturbating. it may be something with the technique, but if it's something else more serious, i'd need to know about it."

"oh! yeah of course." you stumble upwards, repeating your movements from 2 weeks ago, stripping of your clothes, except this time, you take your top off as well.

sana yelps and turns around at your abrupt show of skin.

"something wrong sana?"

"oh- um- no nothing i just thought- um- i didn't think there was reason for your top to be off as well-"

"you wanted to see how i touched myself right? i generally try and stimulate my tits as well since my nipples are quite sensitive."

"right... yes of course." she turns around again, avoiding your gaze and looking to the floor, waiting for you to get on the examination table.

your lips quirk a little at how shy she's being, "is something the matter sana? you see naked bodies all the time in this line of work don't you? and you pretty much saw me naked last time as well..."

sana blushes even brighter, "um- well- yes but- most of my patients tend to be middle aged and they certainly aren't as attractive as you are."

"you think i'm attractive?" you're laid on the examination table now, head turned to the side so you can watch as the doctor fumbles where she's seated, still not looking at you.

"i- um- well- forgive me- i'm trying really hard to be professional right now and-"

"is that why you left in such a hurry during our last session?" you start trailing your hands over yourself, finding yourself easily aroused in the presence of the other woman.

"oh- um- well- yes i- i didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"

you moan gently when a practiced hand glides up to squeeze softly at a tit, the other sliding down slowly towards your centre. "you could never make me uncomfortable sana. well actually... i was only really uncomfortable when you left me so empty last time. i couldn't wait to go home and try out the toys you gave me, i haven't felt so turned on in so long and i needed to get that out of my system as soon as i could." you're trying to get a rise out of her, but everything you're saying is the truth anyway.

sana's eyes are on you now, wide and a little shocked at the words coming out of your mouth, and you revel in the way that meant her eyes now travelled your body. you try and angle yourself so she can see the way you squeeze at your breast, brushing over a nipple lightly with your palm and watching it pebble in reaction, your other hand dipping down to trace along your folds, finding that you're already dripping, the fact that the object of your sexual desires for the last 2 weeks is now only inches away from you, watching you touch yourself, driving you further off the edge of sanity.

"y/n..." sana's voice comes out almost 2 octaves lower than her usual register. you catch the way she wets her lips and crosses her legs.

"i'm so wet already i don't even need lube. and i know you kept saying to use it no matter what and trust me i did when i got myself off at home, but right now, just look-" you bring your hand up from between your legs, making an obscene display of licking your fingers and sucking on them, making sure she could see the arousal that coated your fingers.

sana's jaw tightens at the sight, she shuffles a little in her seat, unconsciously moving closer towards you.

"you don't have to worry about being unprofessional sana. i promise i want this just as much as you do right now." you slide your hand back down yourself, finding your clit easily after the practice you've gotten over the last fortnight, and rubbing circles around it.

"bold of you to assume i want this. this is my job after all." you leak at the register in her voice, it's something you've only been able to imagine in your fantasies.

"you don't want me?" you pout a little, turning onto your side so your entire body is facing her, your arm pushing your breasts together while a finger tugs gently on a nipple, your other hand still rubbing fast little circles into your clit.

sana chuckles darkly, her eyes closing, she seems to be trying to force herself to keep still.

"because just to be clear... i've thought about how you touched me every single time i came these past two weeks." your breath hitches when you recall the way you'd vigorously rub one out to her, sometimes multiple times a day ever since you started masturbating again. "i- oh fuck- no one has gotten me that turned on in such a short amount of time ever- nng- and i'd think about the way you felt inside me, and how careful and gentle you were- fuck- and then i'd think about how rough you could get as well- oh- and how i'd try and be so good for you- can you- can you pass me the dildo? i think i can slide the smallest one in now-"

she gets up from her seat wordlessly, exuding a dark aura that makes you clench your thighs in anticipation. she moves towards your bag, digging for the package and pulling it out, taking the smallest dildo and then moving back towards you. her pupils are blown, hungrily drinking you in, your fingers speed up just a little at the attention.

you reach out a hand mid-moan, asking for her to pass you the toy.

but she clicks her tongue, pushing your hand away gently and lubing up the toy herself.

you gulp, turning so you're laid flat on your back again, spreading your legs so she can see just how wet you were.

her eyes meet yours briefly, and you adore the way she checks in and makes sure you're okay with this, and you nod, giving her permission before she's sliding the dildo into you.

"oh shit-"

sana hums, pushing the little gold dildo in further, transfixed on the way your fingers move just a little rougher around your clit with every centimetre.

when she's completely inside you moan, clenching around the dildo, it was a comfortable size inside you.

"any pain?" her voice is rough, laced with barely concealed lust.

you whine, "n-no- you can move."

she starts pulling out, and it is almost painful the threat of being empty leaving you desperate, grinding down to try and keep her inside you, but she pushes back in, just a second faster this time and you moan unabashedly.

"f-fuck-" she starts up a rhythm, pulling out of you, then pushing back in, each time a second faster than the last.

you rub your clit, faster, harder, pulling on your nipple, switching to the other one to make sure both were attended to, you've never been built up this quickly. even when you were masturbating you had taken her advice and teased yourself for at least an hour before you got anywhere close to cumming.

you crave her, eyes lidded watching the way the veins in her arms become a little more visible when she thrusts in a little harder. you can hear the examination table shaking under you, you can't keep still at all, trying to meet her on each thrust, the tools and materials clattering about loudly. the possibility that someone could hear you outside flies across your mind but you can barely give it a second thought, in fact, it turns you on even more knowing that you were getting fucked by the most gorgeous doctor that you've been obsessed with the last fortnight, and on the other side of the door everyone was just going about their regular days, having no idea the heights of pleasure she was bringing you to.

"o-oh s-sana oh my god- holy fuck-"

"hmm? good?"

"yes yes so good- oh my god you feel so good inside me i'm gonna- oh fuck-"

"do you mind if i..."

you look down at her, vision a little blurry but you can tell she's asking to do something, "yes yes oh god- whatever- you can do whatever you want to me- oh fuck-"

you feel a soft hand come to rest on your stomach, sliding down to just a little below your belly button, and then it presses down just gently, "oh fuck!" your hips jolt upwards, pleasure running up your spine.

sana stops the pressure but keeps her hand on your lower stomach, "was that okay?"

"god yes- oh sana you're gonna make me cum please-"

so she presses down again, a little harder this time, and you feel the coil in you snap, white enroaching your vision, your thighs shaking, head tilted back, a high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth, feeling completely breathless.

sana waits for you to come down patiently, helping you through your orgasm, continuing her thrusts into your cunt but slower and much gentler.

eventually, you feel your back and hips meet the surface of the examination table under you again, breathing heavily and opening your eyes slowly.

sana's moved next to you, brushing strands of hair out of your face, you preen into her touch. but the next thing she does has you clenching tightly around the dildo that's still inside you. she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in and making a show of wrapping her tongue around them. "exquisite."

you blush, clenching your thighs together at the sight.

she gives you a slow once-over again, before exhaling shakily and turning away, moving to the sink to clean up a little. you struggle a little to sit up, still recovering from your mind-shaking orgasm, and you're about to pull the dildo out of you when she speaks up again, still with her back turned to you.

"keep it inside you. that'll be your homework task for the next fortnight until our next session." she turns around, seeming to have collected herself a little better, her eyes fixed only on your face, purposely avoiding the rest of your body.

you sluggishly start to clean yourself up, wincing a little each time you accidentally move the dildo inside you.

"so you are able to come from penetration, you don't have to worry about that. and it's normal that you need some clitoral or other stimulation to be able to orgasm, often just penetration isn't enough. for the next fortnight i want you to continue masturbating, but i want you to practice leaving a dildo inside yourself afterwards, so your vaginal muscles get used to the feeling of something being inside. you can slowly work your way up the sizes, just don't push yourself and make sure you stop if it starts becoming too painful."

you nod, trying to bring your breathing back to a normal pace while you slip your clothes back on.

"alright. were there any other concerns you wanted to talk about?"

you shake your head, coming to a stand.

"okay. you can make the next appointment with the receptionist out front. i'll see you in 2 weeks y/n."

you nod, again, walking out the door when she opens it for you, but turning back before she can close it catching her a little by surprise, "thank you sana. i look forward to seeing you again soon." your voice is still a little scratchy but sana blushes, pursing her lips and nodding, closing the door after you.

you sigh a little dreamily, feeling more blissed out than you've been in a long time.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

this continues between the two of you for a few months.

you loved teasing sana and getting her out of her professional state. once you had worn lingerie under your coat to see her. you laugh remembering the way her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as you took off your coat when you were in the privacy of her office. you'd let her fuck you however she wanted, and then you'd use each new experience to get you off during the fortnight that she'd give you new exercises, all increasing in intensity to help build you up to being able to take an average sized penis.

your favourite one to think about was that week that ben started complaining about how you'd been seeing sana for so long that surely you'd be able to take him by now. he insisted on coming to your next appointment but he was forced to sit outside and wait for you. little did he know you were on the other side of the door, a hand clamped over your mouth, the other holding you up against the door with your breasts pressed against it while sana railed into you from behind. of course she kept harnesses in her office. she had said they were mainly there for educational purposes, to show people how to put one on properly so it was safe and wasn't hurting anyone, it was just an added benefit that she also used them to pound into you with increasing dildo sizes each fortnight.

you lean onto your elbows while you watch her wash off the dildo she had just used on you. it was the biggest one yet and you're still fluttering a little remembering the way it filled you up while you rode her.

"what?" she turns around, drying off the dildo and slipping it back into your bag, pulling her shirt back on.

"just think you're nice to look at."

she rolls her eyes playfully, "shut up y/n."

you wiggle your eyebrows, "make me."

she glances at you, narrowing her eyes a little but making no effort to move closer, "as if you could go another round. you came so hard just then."

you giggle and sigh in satisfaction, resting your cheek on a hand, "i did. you're so good at what you do."

sana hums, finishing getting dressed and looking semi-presentable, settling back into her seat, but her expression changes a little while she studies you.

"what's up?"

"... have you tried having sex again with your boyfriend?"

"i told you i haven't."

she hums again, mind drifting elsewhere and you shrug, sitting up and starting to clean yourself up. "you can try now y'know? you were able to take that dildo and that's pretty much the average size of a penis already. unless he's bigger than that...?"

you scoff, shuffling into your pants, "no. he's actually smaller than the one you just used on me."

"then you should try having sex again."

you pull your shirt over your head, thinking over what she's saying. instead of sitting down in your own seat you climb into her lap, her arms wrapping around you automatically, hands gripping your waist while you make yourself comfortable. "doesn't that mean i won't be able to see you anymore?"

sana chuckles a little emptily, "i'm your sex therapist y/n. you knew this was going to end eventually."

"yeah but you don't fuck your other clients do you?"

sana laughs then, you feast in the sound. "no, no i don't."

"good. i was actually thinking..."

"hm?" she brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing slightly.

"would you... i don't know... like... i think about you when i get off yeah but i also think about you like... all the time..."

"mhm."

"so i was wondering if... i don't know if you felt the same if you wanted to like hang out outside of here? and like i don't mean to have sex i mean like go on a date maybe...?" you're shy, bringing this question up, blushing and avoiding her eyes.

"you have a boyfriend y/n." she deadpans.

"well yeah but i was thinking of breaking up with him anyway. now that you're bringing up having sex with him again i don't want that, and i don't want to stop seeing you. i guess just- just the threat that this all might be over soon- well i don't want it to be over. i like you sana." you say a little more firmly this time, meeting her eyes with decisiveness.

sana smiles then, all eyes, leaning in to peck you gently, "come back in a fortnight and we'll see. if you're no longer with him then... maaaybe i'll let you take me out."

your eyes brighten at her response, jumping out of her lap with excitement, "really?! oh my god i'll call him right now and do it-" you're reaching for your phone in your bag when she laughs, pulling you back into her

"don't do it over the phone silly. not even he deserves that."

you pout a little but it’s quickly wiped away when sana kisses you, lips slotting perfectly against yours with practiced ease. you sigh into her, addicted to the feeling, the taste, the smell of her. it was probably the easiest decision of your life, choosing your sex therapist over your boyfriend.

[beestriker015]

Yandere Lusamine x male s/o

It’s fairly well known amongst employees of the Aether Foundation that the once bubbly and kind personality of their president took a sharp turn for the worst when Lusamine’s husband disappeared several years ago, even to the point of driving her own two children away, which only helped to damage her psyche even more.

Whether it be to find something/someone new to bestow her affections onto, or perhaps to cure a well hidden loneliness, Lusamine eventually began obsessing over something other than Ultra Wormholes and pokémon, that being a man named s/o.

S/o is a nice looking man in his early thirties who used to work for Silph Co. in the Kanto region during his younger years before joining the Aether Foundation due to his love of caring for pokémon.

“Hello Miss Lusamine! My name is s/o, and it’s an honor to be working for you.”

This was what s/o said upon meeting his new boss for the first time after being hired to be her assistant, thus kicking off Lusamine’s obsession.

“Yes! He’s the one! I can tell already that this man is worthy of the love so many seem to throw away! I will make him mine soon enough.”

Aether’s president thinks to herself before turning to s/o and smiling sweetly at him.

“Such good manners. I like that. I look forward to having you by my side s/o.”

She tells him in a tone that both flusters him and unnerves him slightly.

“T-thank you ma’am. I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations.”

“Glad to hear it. Now come along s/o, there’s already work that needs to be done.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Following Lusamine to her office, s/o begins his first day working at the Aether Foundation.

Working for Lusamine was rather strange to s/o.

Despite being his boss, she seemed to be doting and almost…loving to him.

Yet s/o didn’t think much of it, and in fact actually enjoyed it due to developing a crush on Lusamine.

The more time they spent together, the more Lusamine’s unhealthy attraction to s/o grew.

“I can’t hold back anymore! The longer I wait, the more I risk some other woman sinking her claws into my darling s/o! He is the only person deserving of my love, and I will not lose him!”

She tells herself before deciding to confess to s/o first thing in the morning.

“Before we go over our itinerary for the day. There’s something you need to know s/o.”

“W-what is it ma’am?”

He asks in a shaky voice, fearing he’s about to be fired.

“I’ll get straight to the point. I want you to be mine.”

She says with a blank expression, which changes to a small smile once seeing her darling’s flustered expression.

“C-can you repeat that please? I might have misheard you.”

“You heard me just fine s/o. Ever since you’ve started working for me, I’ve become romantically attracted to you. I repeat, will you be mine?”

Not wanting to pass the chance to be with his crush, s/o nods and smiles.

“I’d like that. Honestly, I kinda fell in love with you not long after I became your assistant.

Hearing this brings a great big smile to Lusamine’s face as her heart beats faster, incredibly happy that her darling loves her back.

“Oh s/o! Come here so that I may shower you with my love!”

She pulls him into a bone-crushing embrace and kisses him passionately.

“I’m yours now my love, just as you are mine, and I will never let you go.”

Lusamine whispers into s/o’s ear, thus officially making them a couple.

Unknowingly dating a yandere can be problematic at times because Lusamine very much tries to isolate s/o from his friends, family, and coworkers.

If s/o ever questions her behavior, his girlfriend manipulates him into believing whatever lie she comes up with.

“I’ve heard them say awful things behind your back my love, so it’s best that you cut them out of your life and focus on me. You know I would never treat you badly, unlike those wretched people.”

Due to being incredibly trusting, s/o believes everything Lusamine tells him, much to her glee.

Lusamine gets jealous very easily, and if she sees another woman talking or Arceus forbid flirting with s/o, bad things are about to happen.

While not a murderous kind of yandere, Lusamine has the money and connections to ruin the lives of anyone she deems a threat to her relationship with s/o.

A woman flirted with s/o?

Well, she will soon gets a call from work telling her that she’s fired, and unfortunately for her, no other reputable business or company will be hiring her thanks to Lusamine.

“Hmph! That’s what the harlot gets for messing with what’s mine.”

Lusamine thinks to herself while smiles like a lunatic after receiving the news.

One benefit from being in a relationship with the president of the Aether Foundation is that s/o is constantly showered with gifts, whether it be clothes, jewelry, trinkets, or anything else.

Nothing is too grand or expensive for Lusamine’s darling s/o.

“Honey, I appreciate everything you do for me, but you didn’t have to get me this.”

“Nonsense, you deserve it for being such a loyal and loving boyfriend.”

“But a weeklong stay at a villa in Undella Town? That’s all the way in Unova!”

“Yes, considering it a reward for all your hard work as my assistant. It’s about time you and I take a vacation together don’t you agree?”

Lusamine is also incredibly affectionate with s/o, even in front of her employees.

“Have you seen the way the President acts around her assistant?”

“Yeah, she seems so much happier than before. It’s like Miss Lusamine’s back to her old self again.”

A pair of employees whisper to each other while watching Lusamine cling to s/o with a happy smile on her face while touring the Conservation Area of Aether Paradise.

If s/o has any pokémon under his care, they automatically become Lusamine’s favorite pokémon.

After all, if these pokémon belong to her beloved darling, then they’re worthy of her love as well.

“Look at you. You’re all so beautiful! Much like your trainer, but to a lesser degree of course.”

She tells s/o’s pokémon with adoration in her voice, although they are slightly scared of her due to sensing the crazy vibes of their trainer’s girlfriend.

Because of the age difference between her and s/o, Lusamine often feels insecure about their relationship.

“My darling says he loves me, but what if he meets someone younger! I’m a previously married woman in her 40s with two ungrateful children! Not that I’d ever let him leave me, but what if s/o woke up one day and decided he no longer wants my love?!”

This thought drives Lusamine to the brink of insanity, but luckily s/o reins her in and does his best to reassure his girlfriend, unaware of her darker thoughts.

“I don’t care that you’re older than me, or that you had a family before we got together. I love you Lusamine, and I’m never gonna leave you.”

“D-do you promise?”

She asks him, letting the more innocent and child-like side of her personality shine through.

“Yes. I’d never lie or joke about something like that babe, you know that.”

S/o’s reassurance calms her down quite a bit as she hugs him tightly.

“Thank you my darling s/o. You truly are deserving of all my love and affection, even more so than the rarest pokémon in the world.”

Not long after this, Lusamine asks for her beloved’s hand in marriage one day after having a very romantic evening together, which he happily accepts.

“S/o, the light of my life, will you make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?”

Before she can even get on one knee and pull out the ring, s/o gets up from the table and nods with a very ecstatic smile on his face, much to her delight.

“Yes! Absolutely! I love you Lusamine!”

He hugs her with happy tears in his eyes as she chuckles and smiles softly with a crazed twinkle in her eyes before speaking.

“I love you too my dear, and once we’re married, our love will be eternal.”

Despite her previous husband and children leaving her (at least in her twisted point of view), Lusamine takes solace in knowing that s/o, the lone person worthy of her immense love, will never abandon her like they did, and if someone foolishly dares try to steal the object of her obsession away, well…

The experiments Lusamine and the Aether Foundation plan on conducting involving Ultra Wormholes will require a few test subjects….whether they’re willing or not.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Let's Talk About That

I came all this way just to feel this pain (4)

Warnings: talks of mental health (PTSD, anxiety, panic attacks), mentions of death/dying, anger issues, angst and fluff

Word count: 1,969

A/N: listen I love rewatching Marvel movies but having to watch civil war and pause every 5 seconds for the accords scenes killed me, but it would have bothered me if the lines weren't accurate so here you go.

May 19th 2016

You were in your office when Natasha came round telling you that you had to go to the meeting room. The secretary of state was here to talk with the Avengers. You knew this couldn't be good, but you got up with your laptop in hand just in case you needed it. 

All of you sat around the meeting room while Secretary Ross spoke, "The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives, but while a great many people see you as heroes there are some who would prefer the word 'Vigilantes'." Your grip on Wanda's thigh tightens and her hand goes over yours. Trying not to cause a scene, but you must have squeezed a little too tightly. You release it completely, balling and unballing your fist.

"And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?" Natasha asks.

"How about dangerous?" He replies. "What would you call a group of U.S. based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who frankly seem unconcerned with what they leave behind." Ross speaks freely, but you interject.

"Excuse me Sir, but if you'd have gone over my notes thoroughly about everyone's after mission session when things go good and when things go not great there is in fact a difference in their psyches. This team though we are enhanced individuals still have emotions and feelings. We still care about others and it's the exact reason we do what we do. Just because the world doesn't see them break down. I do." You stand up. "Tony has severe anxiety and suffers from panic attacks when things go wrong. Steve and Natasha have PTSD. Wanda," you look at her and she nods, " thinks every goddamn day about how she could have done better in Lagos. If she had been able to hold on a second longer than no one would have gotten hurt that day. Those lives every one of them rests on her mind." You tell him though he doesn't seem to care much as he shows a video, you sit back down, moving closer to Wanda and she holds your hand, your fingers intertwining. 

"New York, Washington D.C." He's showing the group's past failures as you look over at Steve and Natasha, watching their faces pale as both try to stay in the moment. "Sokovia." The battle for Sokovia from Ultron, the one you missed. You feel her hand squeeze yours as you move your other hand to her thigh to try and soothe her, "Lagos." The footage starts playing of the building that got caught in the blast Wanda had tried to contain. The close up of a dead girl in the ruble is shown and you can feel her shift as you pull her against your chest and whisper, 

"Don't look. I've got you."

"Alright that's enough." Steve calls out. I mouth a thank you to him as I let Wanda go once the footage stops. 

"Good to know we'll need a group therapy session after this." You say flatly. As you turn back to the front of the room.

"For the past four years you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate, but I think we have a solution." He hands over a binder to you. 

"The Sokovia Accords?" You ask, thumbing through it with Wanda.

"Approved by 117 Countries. It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead you'll operate under the supervision of the United Nations panel. Only when and if that panel deems it necessary." Ross informs you all. 

"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we've done that." Steve interjects.

"Tell me Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now? If I misplaced a couple of mega 30 ton nukes you can bet there would be consequences. Compromise, reassurance, that's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground." Ross states. 

"So," Rhodey starts. "There are contingencies?" 

"Three days from now the U.N. meets in Vienna to ratify the accords." Ross tells us and you see Steve finally acknowledge Tony sitting in the corner away from the rest of us. "Talk it over."

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Natasha asks. Ross stops his exit from the room. 

"Then you retire." Ross answers.

"Sir. I'm 19." You remind him

"Good thing you went to college already. Whole life ahead of you unlike the rest of your team." He says and you've never wanted to break someone's neck more and once he and his men leave the room, you hand your laptop to Wanda and have everyone back up from the table as you slam my fist into it, reducing it to rubble. 

"You're paying for that." Tony mentions.

"You pay me. So you're paying for that." You remind him and you're lucky it wasn't his face." You say taking your laptop back from Wanda. "Thank you sweet girl."

As the tension in the room simmered and Secretary Ross exited, leaving the group to grapple with the weight of his ultimatum, a heavy silence settled over you. You could feel the collective unease radiating from your teammates, each grappling with their own thoughts and emotions in the wake of his proposition. The mix of all the feelings makes you nauseous.

Turning to face your fellow Avengers, you could see the turmoil etched on their faces, the weight of Ross's words bearing down upon us like a crushing weight. But amidst the uncertainty and fear, there was also a glimmer of determination in their eyes, a silent vow to stand together in the face of adversity.

"We need to talk," Steve's voice cut through the silence, his gaze sweeping across the room as he addressed each of you in turn. "This isn't a decision to be made lightly. We need to weigh the consequences, consider our options, and come to a consensus as a team."

You nodded in agreement, your mind already racing with the implications of Ross's proposal. The Sokovia Accords represented a fundamental shift in the way the Avengers would operate, a relinquishing of your autonomy in exchange for the illusion of oversight. But at what cost? Would you be forced to compromise your principles, to bend to the will of bureaucrats and politicians who viewed you as nothing more than tools to be wielded at their whim?

As the group dispersed from the meeting room, each lost in your own thoughts, you felt Wanda's hand slip into yours, her touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of uncertainty that raged within you currently. With her by your side, you knew that whatever decision we ultimately made, you would face it together, united in your commitment to stand up for what you believed in, no matter the consequences. And as you retreated to the solace of our shared quarters, you knew that your journey was far from over, that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and trials, but that so long as you faced them together, you would emerge stronger, more resilient, than ever before.

===========================================================

As the team goes back and forth arguing sides of right and wrong and if things are better in your hands or in the U.N. Wanda speaks up, "You're saying they'll come for me." Before you can speak, Vision does beside you after you had nudged your way in when he tried to sit next to Wanda, "We would protect you." 

"They'll come for me too. Wanda was given powers by the mind stone." You flick it on Vision's forehead, he flinches a bit, but you know it doesn't hurt, not like your own, "But this stone in my chest is a ticking time bomb. Something I've never told you guys is I have never once used 100% of my power. I had talked with Thor who knew about the stones." You gently touch your purple stone, reacting to your touch with a soft glow. "This stone in the past was held and wielded by Celestials, Gods in their own rights, used to decimate worlds." You look around the room. Faces of various degrees of worried or scared or nervous. "If I were to lose control...there's a possibility there won't be an Earth anymore. I know how dangerous I am with this stone, but much like Tony's arc reactor, If we extract this from me. I'm going to die. Last time Bruce did a check up for me...the stone...the stone is wrapped around my heart and lungs. Bruce and I did some tests of moving the stone around and we came to the conclusion it's more than likely to make my lungs collapse and my heart stop if it's pulled out." You look down, unable to look at any of them. "If they take me it might be for the better, but no matter what. I want to keep fighting and keep helping. If I sign that...I'm signing over to my own arrest basically." 

"Well it sounds like that might be a good thing." Tony states. 

"Fuck you Tony! I've only ever wanted to help people! I never want to hurt or kill people! I'd rather just go live my life as a psychiatrist! Work a normal day and come home to a nice home cooked meal, but I can't just do that! You brought me into this world. Now if you want me to stand down, I guess you'll have to take me out." You state before leaving. You hear Wanda follow behind you, catching up as she holds your hand and arm. 

"That is probably the scariest couple with the powers they possess." You hear Tony say just before the two of you get out of hearing range.

As you two left the heated discussion behind, Wanda's hand in yours providing a grounding reassurance, a silent acknowledgment of the challenges you faced together. The weight of the impending decision pressed down on your shoulders, each step echoing the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind.

The two of you found solace in a quiet corner of the compound, away from the prying eyes and the cacophony of conflicting opinions. The moon cast a gentle glow over you as you turned to face Wanda, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and determination.

"I can't believe they'd even suggest something like this," Wanda murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "To turn against our own, to put us in a position where we have to choose between our principles and our freedom."

"They're scared," you replied, gently squeezing her hand. "Scared of what we can do, scared of the power we wield. But we can't let fear dictate our choices. We need to stand up for what we believe is right, even if it means going against those we once called allies."

Wanda nodded, a quiet resolve settling over her features. "I won't let them take you, Y/N. No matter what they decide. We'll find a way to navigate through this mess together."

A mixture of gratitude and warmth enveloped you as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "And I won't let them take you either. We'll face whatever comes our way, side by side."

As the night stretched before you, uncertainty lingering in the air, the two of you stood united against the challenges that awaited you. The Avengers, once a symbol of unity, found themselves at a crossroads, and the choices we made in the days to come would shape the course of our future, both as individuals and as a team.

[crazyk-imagine]

Stealing is Not the Answer, but It Could Be

Pairing: Shawn Spencer x Detective!reader

Characters: Shawn Spencer, Detective!reader, Burton "Gus" Guster, Chief Vicks, Carlton Lassiter, Buzz McNab

Warnings: Fluff, humor, Shawn being Shawn, Gus and reade being besties, Shawn trying to use his Shawn psych, Shawn trying to steal something, reader putting Shawn in his place, Shawn and Gus doing shenanigans

Word Count: 615

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk into the department, aiming for chief Vicks office when you hear an alarming statement from your favorite chaotic duo.

“Sometimes I think it would be easier to steal something than ask for it,” Shawn blurts out.

You owlishly blink, wondering if you heard that correctly.

“That is both frightening and alarming, Shawn.”

He turns to face you, putting on an innocent face. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree.”

You look over his head to see what his buddy’s expression is. “Gus?”

He nods, gesturing to you. “I’m with her.”

“What? Gus? Aw, come on.”

He shakes his head, “I am not agreeing with you on stealing. Last time I agreed with you, we wound up in jail.”

“That was here though!”

He turns towards Shawn, “Lassie kept us there for five hours.”

“Yes, but then Buzz let us out.”

Gus shakes his head, “no, I’m not going back in there.” He stands up, whispering in your ear, “I almost had to pee in front of the other people locked up. You know how I feel about that.”

You nod, patting his shoulder to comfort him. “I know, Gus. I know.”

“Well, this has been nice.” Shawn tries to slip past you, “I’ll be off now.”

You shake your head. “Not so fast.” You hook your arm in his and pull him back. “Where do you think you’re going with the chief's favorite figurine?”

He yanks his arm from you, “how dare you! How could you even- okay, that was a little dramatic even for me but look at it.” He presses his face against the fish figurine. “It’s so cute.”

You shake your head, “put it back.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “It was just a harmless little prank."

“Harmless or not, you tried to steal in a police station, how smart is that?”

“You tell him.”

“Can it, Gus.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shawn snorts, “ma’am? What are in the 1950’s and you're the little harmless housewife?”

“No, it’s called I have respect for those who are in a higher power than me.”

You smile at him, “thank you, Gus.”

The doors open.

“Anything I can help you three with?”

“Actually-”

You cut the psychic off and grab his arm. “Nope, thanks, chief. Keep being awesome.”

You sit him down at his dad’s desk and stand in front of him, holding a pen and a piece of paper. “Now make with your chicken scratch and write, stealing is not the answer fifty times.”

He opens his mouth to whine.

“Whine and I’ll add twenty-five.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smile, patting his shoulders, “attaboy.”

Gus covers his mouth to hide his amusement.

“Come on, Gus. Let’s go make like Shawn’s humor and scram.”

-

“Hey! Where are you two going?”

“To get some jerk chicken and a pineapple smoothie.”

“I want to come!”

“No!”

“That sounds amazing,” the pharmaceutical rep adds.

“I know right.” You close the door only to be hit with a breeze before the car shakes.

“Here. Now let’s go.”

You grab the paper. “Wow, you already, did it?”

You look in the left corner, “wait- nineteen- this is from when we were fourteen.”

“You never specified when I had to write it.”

“Shawn that’s not- that’s actually really good, you got me.”

He lets out a victory chuckle. “See, Gus. I told you; it would work.”

You gasp, “how dare you. Gus, I thought we were besties.”

“Uh- you see the thing is-”

You shake your head, “no. I’ve been betrayed enough.”

You lean against your arm, watching the world go by as he drives, unable to hide your smile as Shawn tries to bug you and tell you it was all him.  

-

Tag list

@kmc1989

[bullet-prooflove]

The first time Jack Dayton comes without pain

Tagging: @soultrysworld @kmc1989 @livingonthehems @tess-love @mandy426

Companion piece to:

The First Time (NSFW) - Jack reveals his secret during your first time together.

The Professor (NSFW) - Jack and you share an intimate moment in your office.

Cartier - Jack tries to build some healthier habits to vent his stress.

Bali - A vacation in Bali leads Jack to make some life changes.

Jack loves the feel of your lips on his skin, the way you’re fingertips ghost over his scars as you kiss each and every one of them. He has never felt as revered for as he does in this moment with your mouth exploring every inch of him. Your tongue laps over his cock and he exhales at the sensation before his thumb traces over the apple of your cheek.

“I can’t come like that.” He says apologetically, his cheeks flushing at the admission.

“You don’t like it?” You ask him, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

“No I do, I just…”

You understand then. Jack can’t come without pain, without the sensation of nails biting into his skin or teeth biting down on flesh. You’re the first person he’s ever revealed that secret to, the only one. You can’t imagine what it must have been like for him to have a woman on her knees, trying to race to a finish line he’s never going to get to.

“I’m defective.” He had told you after the first night you’d spent together. The two of you had been sitting in his kitchen sipping bottles of water, you were wrapped up in his robe and he was still wearing his shirt. “That’s something wrong with me, that’s why I need…”

“You’re not defective. There’s nothing wrong with needing something different.” You had said as you took up residence in his lap, your fingertips chasing along his jaw, guiding his gaze up to meet yours. “And we both know how much I like different.”

Jack thinks he falls a little bit more in love with you in that moment.  

“Let’s forget about the end game.” You tell him in the present, pumping him lightly with your hand. “Just focus on the sensation, how good it feels to have my mouth on you…”

He groans then because your lips wrap around the tip of his dick and he’s plunged straight into heaven. It’s different knowing there’s no pressure, he can actually get out of his own head, enjoy the act. His palm comes to rest on the nape of your neck as he begins to move with you, thrusting into that sweet velvet cavern.

Euphoria starts to flood his senses, it crashes through his body like a wave as you take him deeper into the confines of your mouth. It feels like he’s drowning, like every time his head breaks the surface, he’s forced under again, dragged back down into the ecstasy. It’s intense, overwhelming and entirely unexpected because Jack he’s never gotten this far before without pain, he’s never felt this damn good.

“Amélie.” He whispers and your hand seeks out his, fingers entwining and that intimacy, it anchors him. It reminds him that it’s safe to let go, there’s no expectations, now judgment, there’s just you, only you.

“Amélie.” He says again and it comes out like a choked sob because already he’s climaxing, his release spilling down your throat as every single one of this nerve endings light up like the Fourth of July.

It’s too much, far too much. It consumes Jack entirely, leaving tears smeared across his cheeks as you kiss your way back up his body.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying” He says as your fingertips chase the salt from his features.

“You’re allowed to be vulnerable.” You whisper as you cradle him close and he melts into your embrace because this is what he needs in the moment, this sense of connection. He’s never had that before you, there’s never been anyone so attuned to his psyche, his needs. “I know you’re used to being this impenetrable man but you don’t have to be like that with me. You can just be Jack.”

Just Jack, he thinks as he buries his face into the curve of your throat. He hasn’t been just Jack in a very long time.

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bi-bard]

Misdiagnosis - James Wilson Imagine (House M.D)

Title: Misdiagnosis

Pairing: James Wilson X Reader

Word Count: 1,108 words

Warning(s): none that I'm aware of

Summary: [Season 4, Episode 9] After discovering he had misdiagnosed a patient, Wilson is left in a spiral of thoughts. (Y/n) tries to pull him out of it.

Author's Note: A while ago, I had a House MD OC. I deleted it because I wasn't happy with it. The planning was shaky, and I didn't really like the OC's storyline. So, I went back, I replanned it, and now we have a better House MD OC that I am much happier with. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

FIND MORE OF THIS OC BY CLICKING HERE

-----------------------------

It wasn't common that Greg voiced his concerns to me.

Even when he did, he was never clear about them. He acted like he didn't care and was just making jokes about other people's misery. I could usually see through it.

So, when he came in joking about how James was going to be sued by a patient because the patient was going to live, I understood what he was saying.

"And why did you tell that patient that they had a solid case," I asked, folding my hands together and resting my chin on them.

He dramatically scoffed. "You think it's me?"

"You have very weird ways of intervening when you think someone is being stupid," I shrugged. "Plus, no lawyer would actually tell him that he had an actual case because he was going to live."

House sighed and plopped onto the chair on the other side of my desk.

"Now, why did you do that?"

"Because Wilson was being an idiot," he explained.

"More detail, please."

"He was going to pay that man because he gave that man good news."

"And now, you're here because you want me to go get him to agree with you?"

"Use your psychologist babble."

"You can't only acknowledge my job when you need me to do something."

"I can if I'm asking you to help our friend avoid becoming self-destructive."

"Self-destructive?"

"You won't know for sure unless you talk to him."

Greg pushed himself out of the chair and walked out of my office. I let out a huff and shook my head. He knew exactly how to get under my skin. Asshole.

I found myself outside James's office a little while later. I sighed before knocking on the door. He pulled the door open.

"How did one of you learn to knock and the other one sometimes climbs across to my balcony," James asked.

I just shrugged. He motioned for me to walk in. I took a moment to look out at the balcony once I had.

"You could put tinfoil along the top," I said. James had his eyebrows furrowed when I looked at him. "Like when you have a cat that keeps jumping onto your counter. You put tinfoil along the top and something about the noise spooks them."

"Are you comparing your brother to a cat?"

"It's probably the nicest thing I've compared him to."

James laughed and shook his head, going to walk back to his desk.

"Were you really going to pay a patient for giving him good news," I asked.

He paused, looking at me for a moment before speaking, "House sent you here?"

"He said you were becoming self-destructive," I replied. "Not that I really believe him, but I was very curious-"

"It was 6,000 dollars-"

"Why?" my eyes went wide.

"I... I gave him six months to live," he explained. "He needed the money after he sold his house. He had a trip to Venice planned! I... I wanted to help him."

"This is about the false positive patient?"

"Yes!"

I sighed. "Okay..."

"Don't psychoanalyze me."

"Your guilt surrounding your patients is unhealthy-"

"(Y/n)!"

"Listen to me," I stepped forward and leaned on the desk. "I can't say why, but I think you're feeling unnecessary guilt around events that aren't your fault."

"I gave that man the wrong diagnosis-"

"Because of a false positive," I replied. "At the end of the day, medicine is a field with very little control. I think your guilt is an attempt to control what you can't."

He didn't respond to that.

"I should know... I deal with the human psyche," I shrugged. "Even more variables than the physical body."

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Wrong diagnoses happen," I continued. "Sometimes they're completely out of our control. And sometimes they work out for the better, sometimes they don't. This last patient was one of the good outcomes, no matter how that man sees it. You cannot control the actions of another person when they believe that they are facing the end of their life or how they choose to handle learning that they aren't. You are not responsible for that. You are responsible for giving that man the correct diagnosis. That's it."

James continued looking at me for a moment before sighing and responding, "I see why Cuddy hired you."

"She does better with two voices of reason than one."

He grinned at me. I pushed myself back, so I was standing up straight again.

"So, do I still have to worry about you becoming self-destructive," I asked.

He scoffed. "I'm not the self-destructive one in your life."

"Yeah, but you're more willing to let people help you," I replied.

I opened my arms and waved him over. He raised an eyebrow at me. I just waved him over again.

He walked over and let me pull him into a hug.

"You're doing a good job, James," I muttered. "I promise."

"Thanks," he mumbled before stepping back and grinning at me. "You have no idea how much hearing that means to me."

I don't think I could've formed a good response to that statement. I don't know if there was one. Saying something like "you're welcome" risked the chance of looking egotistical. Trying to shrug it off could've looked ungrateful. No response felt like it was good enough.

I didn't have to worry about that for long.

I barely had a moment to overthink my response before James leaned over and pressed his lips to mine.

I leaned back a few seconds later out of complete shock.

"I... I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I... I don't know why I did that-"

"It's okay," I stopped him. I started walking toward the door. "Really, it's fine. Just fine. I just... I have a lot of work to do. This was meant to be a quick visit. I'll... I'll see you later."

"(Y/n)-"

"I'll see you later," I repeated before leaving and closing the door behind me.

I looked around, feeling like everyone knew what happened or could easily figure it out by looking at me. I shook my head. Spotlight effect. I knew that.

"Shit," I muttered to myself before running my hands over my face and starting to walk back to my office.

It wasn't that the kiss was bad. It was the exact opposite. It was perfect. That was the problem.

It felt like years of friendship were teetering very delicately on a rope and whatever happened in James's office tried to push it off. And I couldn't tell if I would've been upset but that idea or not.

And that terrified me.

-----------------------------

Navigation Guide

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[anxious-lee]

A Sudden Diversion - A Lackadaisy Tickle Fic

Lee: Freckle

Lers: Ivy and Rocky

----

Evidently, plowing an automobile through several thickets and insisting it is a "short-cut" is dangerous.

This may have been a revelation to Rocky, but Freckle could have told him that from the beginning. In fact, he tried.

Yet, here they were: in the Lackadaisy's cluttered garage, mending the battering inflicted on their poor vehicle. The car was nicked and scratched from the shrubbery, not unlike its occupants. The engine compartment would have been just fine had the frenzied tom Rocky not rammed it into a tree's trunk. All in all, the damages were unnecessary and very expensive. To say that Miss Mitzi was peeved at the three stooges would be an understatement. Due to the speakeasy's lack of adequate funds, the car's repairs would need to be done by Rocky, Ivy, and Freckle, as reparations for ruining the car in the first place. Freckle supposed that being placed on mechanic duty wasn't the worst punishment Miss Mitzi could have dealt. Although, if anyone should have to be saddled with this chore, it should be Rocky. He's the one who made the mess in the first place.

But, perhaps it was for the best. It was safer in the garage than it was out there on the liquor-lined battlefield.

All three colleagues sat, working away silently. Or rather, almost silently, as Rocky could only take the deafening quiet for so long before he broke out into a hum. Some tune that neither Freckle nor Ives recognized. The musician himself was made useful by patching up the old paint job, while the two lovers dug through their toolbox, looking for the appropriate equipment to repair the engine.

Freckle had seen plenty of danger in his lifetime with his cousin. Hell, toughing through peril was practically his best trait as an officer in training. But each adventure wore down a little bit more of his psyche. And some nights, like tonight, there was nothing left to wear.

He was exhausted, both from the team's little excursion and the mental power it took not to have a panic attack.

Ivy, who sat at his right, learned over time to recognize these feelings through observation. Because odds were, Freckle wouldn't say it directly. She could pretty much discern and dissect every Freckle frown.

She was gonna make him smile.

She began with a little smirk of her own.

"Car maintenance isn't the peachiest job in the world, but at least we get some quality time together," Ivy said, batting her eyelids.

Brought out of his daze by the sudden sound of her voice, Freckle glanced up at Ivy quickly. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly at her flirtatious remarks.

But Ivy wasn't going to stop there.

"Y'know, I hardly ever get to witness you in your element. Tinkering away with your gadgets, and gizmos, and... whosiwhatsits, " she finished with a flippant backhand toward the toolbox.

Freckle seemed bashful to turn bashful at that.

"Oh. I'm no professional. My mum taught me everything I know, and when it became just me and her in that house, I had to step in and help with the maintenance. If I'm being honest, I'm more familiar with the back-end of a kitchen sink than I am with motor vehicle repair," he cringed.

"Relentlessly humble, as always," Rocky piped in suddenly, "Ol' Freckle Face never could take a compliment, however deserved or warranted."

"Yeah! C'mon McMurray, you're doing most of the heavy lifting here! Little did Miss M. know that when she hired a gunman, she also hired a handyman," said Ivy.

The extra attention was getting to Freckle, so much so that he hadn't noticed when his cheeks began to burn hot.

"It's really not a big deal-"

"I'll say it is, and no take-backsies!" Ivy declared. For emphasis, she burrowed a single claw into his armpit.

Freckle tittered softly and tilted his body away from his attacker.

"Kheehehe, quit it," he near-whispered.

"What will you do if I dont?" Ivy dared playfully.

What to answer with, Freckle hadn't the faintest. His upturned mouth opened and shut a few times, hoping that the perfect reasoning would spring from his lips at any moment. Finally, he spoke.

"We're not gohonna finish our wohork," he retorted lamely.

"Oh yeah? Is that what it is you're scared of? The job?" purred Ivy. She once again buried her pointer claw into the crook of his underarm. It took some more digging than the first time due to Freckle's attempts to keep his arm flat against his side. When she settled into her target, she scritched everywhere she could reach.

"Yehes!" Freckle said, much louder and desperate than he intended. He was squirming a little more now, bent in a seventy-degree angle, but still holding down his position. The first giggle, he couldn't control. The second, third, and fourth, however, he was determined to swallow down. His lips pressed into a wobbly smile, hoping that if he didn't laugh, she wouldn't continue.

That only made her tickle harder.

"You trying to hold it in? Good luck, 'cause my little brothers tried the same trick, and it did not last long," warned Ivy.

And it was true. Before long, his firmly shut lips did nothing to prevent his giggles from escaping. They sounded more like pleaful whimpers.

It wasn't that Freckle hated her little games, but succumbing to something so childish as tickling was easier said than done. Not to mention the fact that they were in public, where any one of the speakeasy's employees could walk in on them.

Within a matter of seconds, Ivy brought both claws into both armpits and was tickling away.

Freckle gave a laugh of surprise, a notch louder than before. He knew there was no fighting her now. The tingly electricity on both sides of his body overtook him, and he slid to the floor, with his back pressed against it. Ivy followed, now hooked by his incredible laughter.

"You crazy kids ought to keep your hands off of each other. Otherwise, people might get the idea that you two are les amoureux," Rocky called from his place at the car, voice shining with sarcasm. He was watching them now and smirking unsympathetically at his troubled cousin.

"We are les amoureux, Rocky," Ivy called back.

For some reason, Ivy holding a conversation with Rocky while Freckle was underneath her laughing pitifully was making the sensation worse. As his face burned brighter, Freckle turned his head away from her in an attempt to save himself the embarrassment of having her look upon his cheesy face.

"Awh~! Poor boy is embarrassed!" Ivy cooed, taking one hand away from his arm and cupping his cheek with it, pulling his face back to her.

"You are practically burning up!" she gasped, "Are you blushing~?"

The saints above could not help poor Freckle now.

He didn't grace that question with an answer and instead whined through his laughter. This could not get more humiliating.

"I missed that big smile! And that laugh. I love it when you laugh. It's so cute!" the feisty woman squealed.

"Nohoho, it's nohohot!" Freckle squealed louder. His paws, which had been tucked in like T-Rex arms to his chest, were now covering everywhere on his face he could reach.

"It's a shame that me admiring you flusters you so terribly, because I'm not going to stop any time soon. You're all mine to adore, Calvin McMurray~"

Holy hell.

The teasing's subject cried out in ticklish agony and released a new wave of laughter.

"This would be easier if- you know- I'll think I'll just- there we go!" Ivy maneuvered herself to sit behind Freckle's head while she pinned his hands under her knees. Now he was on full display, with no hope of saving his dignity.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle~" she teased as both hands came back down to lightly skitter over and across his belly. Freckle laughed uproariously, unable to hold anything back, his pure-hearted cackle ringing out throughout the garage.

It was almost more than he could bear.

Almost.

"DOHOHONT SAHAY THAT!"

"Why not?"

"IT MAHAKES IT WOHORSE!"

"Ah, good tip! Definitely will be making use out of this. Kitchee kitchee kitchee kitchee coo~!"

Ivy moved her paws towards his hips, squeezing them faster than was merciful.

Freckle's laugh deepened in pitch immediately, sounding more like a maniacal cackle.

"Pretty good targets, Miss Pepper, but you're neglecting some key players in this game of torture!" said Rocky.

"It's not torture! He's fine! Aren't you, sweetie?"

Freckle almost said no, but he was too busy laughing. Laughing from an attack he let happen. If he really detested it, he could have ended this from the beginning, and he knew that. But there was no real danger here. Not with Ivy. Not with Rocky, either. He knew they would never hurt him.

Nevertheless, when one is being pinned down and tickled stupid, the only thought your mind will allow is 'STOP'.

Rocky strode over to Ivy's side and looked down at his cousin.

"Me and Freckle used to get into many a battle such as these when we were little tykes. I triumphed them all, naturally, and I still remember his spots," the tomcat gave Ivy a wink and planted himself on Freckle's legs. "You go for the neck, I'll go for the knees."

"ROHOCKY!!" cried Freckle, betrayed.

"Ooo! Those are good ones!" cheered Ivy.

"ISN'T AHANYONE GOING TO WOHORK ON THE CAHAHAR?!"

"No", they both replied.

They began their double team attack on Freckle's tickle spots. Ivy went to work fluttering in every crevice of his neck, while Rocky rubbed and squeezed his kneecaps, occasionally giving a swift scribble to the undersides.

Freckle couldn't believe how absurd this scenario was. Here he was, now shrieking and giggling shrilly like a small child, while his two closest teammates were tickling him to pieces. He didn't bother to question it any more, simply surrendering to his silly fate and taking the opportunity to let everything go. He had been harboring so much guilt and anxiety over the past few days. Over the past few weeks even. What better time to abandon all sensible thought, what better time to look away from his reality of crime and war, what better time to simply be with his friends, safe and at peace, then now?

But he still needed to breathe, so Ivy let up and released his hands from her hold. Rocky dismounted from his legs and backed away cheerily to give the man some space.

Freckle immediately wrapped his arms around his waist and tucked his legs into himself, tail swishing wildly as he let out his remaining chuckles. As he caught his breath, he looked up at Ivy.

Ivy's expression was kind. "You feeling ok?"

Freckle couldn't stop grinning, and it wasn't from the tickles.

"Y-yeah," he sighed in relief.

"Yes, good man, laughing yourself up a storm, now come on, let's take a break from the car and head to the bar downstairs!" said Rocky.

"You mean after the break we just took from our work?" Ivy smirked.

"I don't know about you two, but all this horseplay has worked up my thirst. Whadd'ya say, Baby Face? Want to grab a beer?" Rocky reached a hand down to help him up.

Freckle was repulsed by the idea of drinking alcohol himself, but Rocky knew that as well, using it as a conversational turn of phrase.

The orange cat softened in agreement.

"Sure."

Rock wasted no time in trotting out the door, hungry for an ice cold scotch.

The two stragglers, now alone, slowly followed behind. As they walked, Ivy stretched an experimental pinkie out to Freckle's. He wasted no time in linking his paw with hers and pulling her to his side.

Not the worst of punishments, indeed.

-------

You know what, I eventually got hungry enough for lackadaisy fic that I wrote one myself. I haven't completed a fic in well over a year, but this franchise is beyond inspiring enough to birth this fic ❤️

@veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @kasey-writes-stuff @ticklyfluffstuff

[blind-seeing]

Some really fun things about being a visually impaired black woman is getting lost in my mom's white suburban neighborhood trying to ask people for directions and instead getting the door slammed in my face and the cops called :-) at my last apartment place my neighbor's decided I was acting weird when I tried to help somebody's stray cat, coaxing him slowly out of the trash ridden woods

The police report said I had purple hair. I am bald.

It said there was blood all over my bathroom. It was a pink Bud light. I do not have hot pink strawberry flavored margarita blood, sorry.

I said good morning, and the white teenagers that handcuffed me in my pajamas in front of my own apartment said that this showed that I had a clear misunderstanding of time , was unstable

I go out at night time because I can see better then

When I was Baker acted and institutionalized I had several, several orderlies imply or outright insist that my visual impairment was just in my head and I should just try harder to see???

Imagine having bright lights shined in your face and having no access to your cane to be able to move around and being unable to use your hands to feel around and being told to walk just walk just walk just walk just walk to the back of the cop car for the crime of??????? Been blind

Apparently I was "behaving aggressively" because I took a step towards ... people who I could not see. Trying to get a closer view.

I said why am I in handcuffs why am I in handcuffs why am I in handcuffs

She says "because you tried to touch me"

I related this to a doctor later in the psych ward, trying to explain what happened to me and how I ended up there. I kept my voice level for a little bit but when I got to the last part what officer Smith said I was screaming, legit sounded like a demon saying I'M HERE BECAUSE I TRIED TO TOUCH A HUMAN BEING

IDK how the Baker act is still in effect

Which by the way they wrote that I "thought cats were speaking to me"

And then later there when I wanted to play the freaking piano instead of being locked inside all day, I was dragged by six people, had a needle jabbed into my thigh

Then I was told that I was attacking people

(I was sitting down when I was grabbed)

Flashing people

Still don't know what that was about

I mean I did walk out of the shower without a shirt on but that's because all the clothes they provided were blue plastic... They told me I can't do that cuz there's men on the ward.... Okay sounds like a you problem

They edited the body cam footage and the footage in the hospital to make me look unreasonable and aggressive

Frankly I'm amazed I'm still alive

They put me on six different medications for my "psychosis" and none for my very contagious ringworm

That I got from the stray Cat I was trying to help

So many different medications it messed up my eyes

I couldn't...... Look ahead of me at all

My eyes kept flinging up and backwards into the right

Completely unable to focus them or control them

But yeah it's all for my own good right :-)

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 12

A mass casualty incident results in a close call as Joel tries to figure out what he can live with. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1 - 11, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence. Whole fic is very violent and smutty so Minors DNI, 18+ only. No use of Y/N.

Length: 4.8k

Tuesday, April 7, 2009 - 6 months later 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Andrew was leaned back in the office chair behind the front counter of the clinic, looking up at you. “I’m pretty sure you could set that man on fire and he’d still worship the ground you walk on.”

“There’s something wrong,” you shook your head, perched on the desk, your nails rapping on the underside of the table top. “Something’s going on, I can feel it. It’s like he’s pulling away from me…” 

It was a slow day in the clinic. You’d had three patients in three hours. But you weren’t about to SAY it was a slow day in the clinic, that was a sure fire way to get flooded with emergent patients and make it so you were stuck here all night. 

Of course, the way things had been with Joel lately, being stuck there all night might be a bonus.

“You could try actually talking to him you know,” he said. “Maybe ask if there’s something wrong…” 

“Is that what you and Jess do?” You teased. “Talk about your feelings like adults?” 

He laughed.

“Adults seems like a strong word for it but,” he shrugged. “Have you ever told him anything that happened? Anything at all? Or have you just tried pretending as though we still live sometime before the world ended?” 

“You’ve become more of a smartass in your 20s,” you glared at him. He snorted and you sighed. “You know, Joel and I dated for three years before. Two of those were long distance. And that was somehow easier than this.” 

“Well his kid died and you’re hiding everything that traumatized you when the world ended so that’s part of it,” he said dryly. 

“Jess needs to stop giving you psych major advice,” you muttered. 

“No, the QZ just needs a therapist so you can go work your shit out.” 

Marta, a girl who had just started working at the clinic came and leaned on the counter. 

“Man, it’s slow today,” she sighed, looking bored. You and Andrew both groaned. She frowned. “What?”

“You’ve cursed us,” Andrew muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever happens in the next 10 minutes? On you.” 

“What’s going to happen?” She scoffed. “It’s been dead all day.” 

“Stop making it worse!” You groaned. 

“It’ll be fine,” she said. “You’ll see.” 

Nine minutes later, a security guard from the main gate ran up, out of breath and splattered in blood. 

“Convoy from Atlanta got swarmed,” he was panting. “Need medical, everyone you can spare.” 

“Shit,” Marta said. 

You ran and grabbed the go bags of emergency supplies, sending Marta to go grab Dr. Lee and Dr. Elias from home. 

“Kristen,” you yelled to the one remaining nurse in the floor as you ran out the door. “Hold down the fort and try to keep everyone alive until we get back!”

“Dammit Marta,” she muttered, sitting down at the front desk and glaring at the door, almost daring anyone else to come in. 

You, Dr. Martin, Lucy - another nurse - and Andrew ran clear across the QZ, loaded down with medical equipment until you reached the front gate. 

It was absolute chaos. People were bloody, moaning. Someone - a kid - was screaming. Your ears rang, tension growing in your chest. You dug your nails into your palm, grounding yourself, and took over. 

“Set up a supply station there,” you pointed to an alcove of a building that should provide shelter in case a spring ran decided to move through. “Andrew, you’re lead on triage with Lucy. Lucy, you handle everything yellow down. Move yellow to the clinic when you can. Flag Martin or I for orange and higher. Security can do infection scans once we’re through triage unless there’s a visible bite, overnight holding for green and blue transfers at the main gate, we don’t have the kind of room at the clinic for this…”

“This is fucked,” Andrew looked out at the 100 or so people. 

“And it was a slow day,” you muttered. 

You all jumped into action, Andrew and Lucy only getting one or two patients in before flagging more emergent injuries. One person had part of a steering column lodged in their stomach and you got security to rush him to the clinic to get stabilized until you could get there. Another had an almost totally amputated arm and you completed the amputation in the field with Andrew holding him down. You stitched chest wounds closed, set exposed bones. Blood that wasn’t yours was on your face. Lee and Elias showed up about an hour in.

“We’ve got it,” Martin said, working on a head lac that looked like it came from a skull fracture. “Go handle surgical.” 

You just gave him a nod, racing back across the QZ and directly into a scrub room. 

Kristen had managed to stabilize the patient with part of a car in his stomach - her trauma nurse skills from before the outbreak being infinitely handy in the QZ - and it took you hours to patch him up. 

You were relieved that Martin was back when you got done, working with other patients that he’d stabilized in the field. 

“They’re doing infection testing now,” he said by way of greeting. “These folks are cleared to go into holding but there’s a lot of failures at the gate. Can you run some euth kits down?” 

You glanced at the clock. It was pushing midnight. You were still covered in blood. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’ve got it.” 

You gathered the supplies and ran, again, back across the QZ to the gate. Your legs were tired. You wanted to just lay down and sleep in the road. Or at least have the luxury of trudging to the place where you’d be killing people. But you had to run. If you didn’t move quickly, people who could have been spared the horror of turning would need to be shot instead of humanely injected, putting them out of their misery before the misery truly began. 

You still hated it. 

Security directed you to holding. There were about two dozen people who were pinging as infected. You gave them a quick examination - confirming a bite - and tried to tell them what was about to happen in a way that wasn’t horrific. But how did you tell someone you were about to kill them - even if it would be painless, even if it would be a mercy - and not have it be horrifying? 

Some were numb, just nodding along. You asked if they had anything they wanted to say, anyone they wanted to leave a message for. Few did. Others were inconsolable, screaming and sobbing. You stayed with them until they fell unconscious - which only took a few minutes - and tried to set your feelings aside until you were done. 

It was after 2 a.m. when you reached the teenaged girl’s room. 

You saw her through the pane of glass in the door first. She was sitting on the bed, staring into space. Her face was wet. 

“Oh no,” you breathed. You couldn’t help it. You knocked once and then opened the door. 

“Hi there,” you gave her a sad smile. 

“You’re here to kill me aren’t you?” She asked, her eyes wide. 

“I need to check you over first,” you said. “Confirm…” 

She stuck her arm out, a bite mark at her wrist. 

“Then yes,” you sighed. “I’m here to kill you.” 

She sniffed once and then nodded. 

“I can tell you it’ll be better this way,” you said softly. “I’ve seen people turn. It’s hard. This is better. Like falling asleep after a really long, hard day.” 

“I don’t want to die,” she was crying. “I didn’t even do anything yet, no one is going to remember me yet…” 

“What about your family?” You asked, cautiously taking a seat beside her. She didn’t object. 

“My parents died out there,” she nodded toward the gate. “Before we made it this far. We were supposed to be coming here, FEDRA sent my dad here…” 

You nodded slowly. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Bethany,” she sniffed. “Beth.” 

“Beth,” you said. She nodded. “Would it be OK if I remembered you? I’d like to remember you.” 

“You don’t even know me,” her chin quivered. 

“We have a few minutes,” you said, glancing at her wrist. “Tell me some things about you. How old are you?” 

“I’m 13,” she said. 

“What do you like to do?” You asked.

She paused for a moment. 

“I played soccer, before,” she said. Her tears were slowing. “I scored three goals in the last game I remember. My dad called it a hat trick.” 

“That’s impressive,” you smiled. You brushed some of her hair back from her face. “You must be good.” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah, I am.” 

“What else do you like?” You asked. “What makes you feel something?” 

“I write poems,” she said, looking down at her lap. 

“Poems?” You asked. 

“They’re not very good,” she shrugged. “But I like them. They help me think, understand what I’m feeling. I’m not great at making them rhyme, though.” 

“Poems don’t have to rhyme,” you said. “They just need to capture a feeling. Do your poems capture a feeling?” 

“I think so,” she shrugged. 

“Then they’re good.” 

You glanced at her wrist again, the signs of Cordyceps working their way up her arm to her brain. 

“I need to inject you now, Beth,” you said. “You’ll be awake for a few minutes after that. We can keep talking if you want.” 

“Will you stay with me after?” She asked. “I don’t want to die alone…” 

“I’ll stay,” you said. She nodded. “What’s one thing you’ll miss about Atlanta? Did you live there a while?” 

“Since I was nine,” she sniffed. You prepped the syringe. “I liked the weather. It was always warm there.” 

“Just a small poke,” you said, pressing the needle into her arm and pushing down the plunger. You pulled it back and massaged the spot on her arm gently. “I bet it is always warm there. I went to college in Texas, it was always warm there. It was nice. I miss that, too.” 

She looked at you. 

“If I lie down, will you hold me?” She asked. You nodded. She stretched out on the cot and you lay behind her, tugging her back against you. She snuggled into your body. “Can you stay until I…” 

“I’ll stay,” you said quietly. “Is there anything you want to tell anyone? I can find someone, get them a message…” 

“My friend, Cara, in Atlanta,” she said. “Can you just tell her goodbye for me? That I’ll miss her?” 

“Is she 13 like you?” You asked. She just nodded. “I can find her.” 

“Thank you,” she said. She was quiet for a minute. “I think I’m going to miss the sky. I always liked the sun and the clouds and the stars. It was so big. And the moon. I always wanted to be someone who got to walk on the moon.” 

“It’s a good goal,” you said. You could feel some of the tension leaving her body. “You’d be a good astronaut."

She nodded a little. 

“I’m getting tired,” she said. “Really tired…” 

“It’s OK Beth,” you kept holding her. 

“There are poems, in my bag,” she said, her voice fading. “Can you keep one for me?” 

“I’ll keep them all,” you said. You held her closer, stroked her hair. “It’s OK, Beth. It’s OK.” 

You held her until she stopped breathing. 

You were numb as you gently pulled yourself from her body, going to her bag in the corner. Inside there was a notebook. The pages were crinkled and the cover was peeling but it was almost filled with poems. Your eyes couldn’t seem to focus enough to actually read any, but you held it to your chest and went to the next room. 

You weren’t paying as much attention as you should have been when security let you into the next room. You were focused on not crying, trying to treat the person you were about to kill with the dignity they deserved. 

“Hi there,” you said. 

He turned toward you and ran, arms outstretched, teeth bared. It took you a moment to understand what was happening, process it fully. You barely had a chance to scream before he collided with you. 

You tried to hold him back but he was large and you were tired, your arms giving out quickly as your hands instinctively clutched the notebook and the euthanasia kit. The man’s mouth got near your throat just as security burst in the door and shot him, covering you with blood. They pulled him off you and screamed for something but you couldn’t really understand what. It was like they were speaking a different language. They pulled you up and moved you to the cot and you sat there, staring into space for a moment. You set the kit and the notebook down as one of the guards gently took your chin and tilted your head, examining your neck. 

“No!” 

Andrew’s voice snapped you out of your own head. You blinked for a moment, surprised to see him there, surprised to hear him screaming. He tried to come in the room but a guard held him back. 

“She’s not…” he was straining in the guard’s arms. “You’re wrong!” 

It confused you for a moment. You weren’t sure what he was yelling about, it didn’t make sense. 

“We haven’t tested yet,” the guard said. “It doesn’t look like a distinct bite, it could just have been a cut in the scuffle and it’s nothing…” 

You frowned, your hand cupping your throat. There was a sharp pain at the side. Your hand had a smear of blood when you pulled it away. 

“I got bit?” You looked up at the guards for a moment. 

For a moment, part of you was relieved. If you’d been bitten, you could just be euthanized and that was that. You wouldn’t have to keep trying anymore. No more days where you killed more people than you saved, no more wondering what the child you lost would be like now, no more trying to figure out why the person you loved more than anything else was growing distant. 

“We don’t know that,” the guard said quickly. “We’ll get a scanner in here in just a second…” 

As if on cue, Elias ran in, eyes wide. 

“They don’t know yet,” Andrew said quickly. 

“I’ve got a scanner,” Elias said, pushing past the guard who was busy holding Andrew in place. He all but ran to you, kneeling at your side and taking your arm. You felt the prick as it collected a sample and waited a moment. The scanner glowed green. Elias’ shoulders relaxed. 

“Negative,” he held it up to show you. 

“Thank fuck,” Andrew sighed from the doorway.

“It could be a false negative,” you said.

“It’s not,” he said, voice certain, his eyes soft. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen Elias like this. He’d taken you under his wing, worked with you for years. He was probably the closest thing you had to a father. You just hadn’t realized he might have felt the same way about you. “You’ll be fine, hear me? You’re going to be fine.”  

“Do we move her to holding?” One of the guards asked. “We can’t leave her in here with…” 

“We can take her to the clinic,” Andrew said quickly. “She should be at the clinic.” 

You barely remembered the walk across the QZ. Your legs were heavy. Andrew’s arm was around your shoulder. There were guards around you. You were still covered in blood. 

“I’m going to go get Joel,” Andrew said from the other side of the bars as soon as you were in holding. 

“No,” you shook your head. “No, don’t… that’s OK.” 

“He’d want to be here,” he frowned. 

“It’s fine,” you said. “Don’t drag him down here, it’s just 12 hours, I’ll be fine. He doesn’t even need to know, he has to work early tomorrow anyway…” 

“Can’t have you back here,” the guard said to Andrew. 

“Oh come on,” he protested but the guard shook his head. Andrew narrowed his eyes at him. “Fine.” He looked to you. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. I’ll be back here in 12 hours. You’ll be fine.” 

You smiled a little and nodded, waiting until he left before you let exhaustion and numbness consume you. 

***

“Don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, Joel,” Tommy snapped as they sat in their sparsely furnished living room, beers in hand. 

“It hasn’t gotten better,” Joel replied, taking a drink. “I don’t think I can keep doin’ this.” 

“At some point that girl is gonna stop forgiving you for being a dumbass and she’s not gonna take you back,” Tommy warned. Joel sighed. 

“Maybe she should,” he said, swirling the beer in his glass. 

For Joel, adjusting to QZ life had been shit. He wasn’t used to existing with people anymore, functioning with rules and not just taking what he needed when he needed it. He’d blown the three chances you’d gotten him for permanent job placements. He’d been so bored doing building repair he’d snapped at his coworkers one too many times. His manager at the warehouse job had been a fucking jackass and didn’t take too kindly to Joel telling him so. The third one really hadn’t been his fault, a guy on the delivery crew he was on cat called a girl who couldn’t have been more than 14. Joel decked him in the middle of the street. 

“Don’t know why I can’t just come work in the clinic with you,” he muttered one evening, sitting at your kitchen table.  

“Really?” You’d raised your eyebrows at him, incredulous. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “You must have something that needs doing.” 

“Well yeah,” you laughed a little. “But Joel, come on. You have no medical experience or interest in getting any. Your bedside manner is shit….” 

You trailed off. He waited for you to finish. 

“And?” He asked. You sighed. 

“And…” you looked at the ceiling for a moment before looking at him again. “I helped set that clinic up. It means a lot to me. I don’t want to damage it by convincing my boss to hire my boyfriend only to have him punch the first guy who looks at me funny.” 

He ground his teeth before getting up and going for the door. 

“Joel,” you sighed. “Please don’t…” 

“Should go check on Tommy,” he muttered. “Haven’t seen ‘em in a few days.” 

He stalked out and didn’t come back for two days. He’d been stuck doing odd jobs ever since. 

The unease at being away from you hadn’t gotten any better. Every time you weren’t near, he felt sick. His chest got tight, his stomach turned. He couldn’t handle it. He knew he couldn’t live his life glued to your side, always touching you, always knowing you were OK. He knew that. But he wasn’t sure he could live his life loving you, either. It was too scary, too painful. It was like his mind was bracing for the worst, all the time. Anything at all was better than being caught off guard by losing you. It was self preservation, trying to not love you. He wouldn’t be capable of surviving your loss. It would be safer to cut things off when he had control. He’d stay alive if he could just fucking do it. Love was just too big a risk. 

“You really just want to live in misery for the rest of your goddamn life?” Tommy asked, getting worked up. “Because that seems to be what you’re gunnin’ for.” 

“I just want to not be afraid all the fuckin’ time,” he snapped. “I want something quiet and easy, something that isn’t overwhelming all the goddamn time. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

“Fuckin’ moron,” Tommy muttered, downing the rest of his beer and going to bed. 

Joel stayed up for a while after, staring into nothing, trying to imagine what life without you would be. He could still keep an eye on you. Check in, make sure you were safe. But if there was some distance, maybe he could pull himself away from you. Have some hope of disentangling himself from you enough that it wouldn’t destroy him if you got hurt. It was the end of the world, you were going to get hurt at some point. You were safer in the QZ than outside it, the life you’d built here was relatively safe. But at some point, you’d get attacked by a patient, piss off FEDRA, get bit by an errant infected that had worked its way inside the walls of the QZ. It was coming. He could feel it coming. He needed to be far enough away from you when it happened that it didn’t kill him. Otherwise what had been the fucking point of all this? He had to live for Tommy at the very least. Keep his kid brother’s nose clean. He couldn’t do that and lose you, not like this. 

He got up early, worked a shift dealing with some sewer maintenance. Wednesdays were shorter days for you so he decided to go to your place after getting cleaned up. He hadn’t figured out how to extract himself from you yet, not really. He used that as is excuse for still showing up at your place almost every damn day. It was self preservation. He needed to be near you until he could figure out how to not be. 

But there was something off about your apartment when he walked in. The air was oddly stale, like it hadn’t been disturbed in more than a day. The note he’d written to tell you he was planning to sleep at his place was in the spot where he’d left it on your table. It was like you hadn’t even touched it. You hadn’t been home. 

Oh God, you hadn’t been home. 

He ran out so fast he had to double back to lock your doors. He took the stairs two at a time, the fist that wrapped around his chest when you weren’t near gripping tighter. He ran for the clinic. Fuck, he hoped you made it to the clinic yesterday. If he hadn’t, he’d have to rip the fucking city apart to find you. He would, he didn’t give a fuck, but a starting point… he needed a starting point. 

He ripped the doors open. Andrew wasn’t at the front desk, instead a woman he’d seen in passing but whose name he’d never bothered to learn was sitting there. 

“Mr. Miller,” she called but he ignored her, going for the doors leading to the back. He yanked them open and started checking exam rooms. No sign of you. He yelled your name, looking around for some sign of you, someone who knew where you were. The woman from the desk caught up to him. 

“Mr. Miller,” she said. He looked down at her. “She’s back in holding…” 

His legs damn near gave out. 

“Holding?” He fought to keep his voice steady. His head spun. The grip on his chest got tighter. “What… how…” 

“There was an incident early this morning,” she checked her watch. “She should be free to go any minute now. Andrew is waiting too…” 

“Where?” He asked, looking around. He’d spent almost no time back in the exam area, he didn’t know where shit was. The woman pointed him down a hall and he ran for it until he almost ran into you, tucked into Andrew’s side with his arm around you, a blanket over you. You were covered in blood, staring straight ahead like you were in a daze. 

“Good of you to fucking show up,” Andrew glared at him. 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“Convoy from Atlanta got overrun by infected,” he muttered, continuing to guide you through the clinic. “We were out doing what we could until well after fuckin’ midnight. Guards said she didn’t sleep either… Around 3 a.m. she was doing euthanasias when one turned earlier than they expected. We thought it might have gotten her on the throat, the scanner was negative but there was a scratch… She was already so covered in blood we weren’t sure what it was from…” 

“Oh Baby,” he went to hold your face but you flinched away from him, clutching something in your arms closer to your chest. A notebook. He frowned. “Can I see that?” 

He went to take it from you but you pulled it away. 

“She was like Jessica,” your voice was flat. “I killed her, too…” 

Joel frowned, looking from you to Andrew. 

“Shit,” he muttered. “Let’s just get her home…” 

The three of you got odd looks from everyone around you, two large men helping the dazed, bloody woman home. No one dared stop them, though. Joel let you into your apartment. Andrew peeled the blanket off you slowly. You were still in the clothes you’d worn the day before but they were caked in blood and mud. You clutched the notebook to your chest. 

“Hey,” Andrew said, brushing your hair back. “Can I leave you with him? Is that OK? Will you be OK?” 

You frowned a little but nodded. 

“Good,” he kissed your forehead. “I need to go see Jess, give her an update… Don’t shut down on me, OK?” 

You nodded again. He looked to Joel. 

“She goes totally non-responsive?” He said. “Come get me. Immediately.”

“Non-responsive?” Joel asked, keeping a hand on you. 

“I’ve only seen her do it once,” he said. “It took a lot to get her there but last night was fucking awful…” 

“I’ve got her,” Joel said. Andrew looked him up and down. 

“Fuckin’ better,” he muttered, giving you a last look before turning to go. 

Joel needed to get you cleaned up. He tried to extract the notebook from your grasp but you held tight. 

“Baby, you have to let this go,” he said gently. 

“I told her I’d keep it,” you said softly. He wasn’t sure he’d seen you blink yet. “I promised…” 

“You can have it back after you shower,” he said. Your hold on the notebook loosened and he was able to pull it away. He steered you to the bathroom and turned on the water as he slowly, carefully removed your bloody clothes. 

“She was like Jessica,” you said again. Your voice was quiet. 

“Who was?” He asked, hesitant to push you too far. 

“Beth,” your eyes met his for the first time. “I killed her, too. She wanted to live, too.” 

Joel got your shirt over your head. 

“Who was Jessica?” He asked quietly. Your eyes searched his for a moment. 

“Louisa’s daughter,” you said eventually. “She called me after you did that night. She was afraid. Louisa had turned, she needed help. I picked her up. I killed… There was a neighbor. She had a collie named Rebel, Louisa used to sing ‘Rebel Rebel’ when they’d walk by the house… She’d turned, too. I killed her, got Jessica out. 

“We were OK for a while,” you were staring at Joel’s chest now but it was like he wasn’t even there. “Found Andrew in the woods. But, on my birthday, we got overrun by infected… I held them off but one came from the side, got her from there. We were so close to a check point, they saw the bite, they killed her… I didn’t see it coming, not the infected, not them shooting her… She was so scared, Joel. I held her, tried to make it better… She didn’t want to die and I let her… I told her I’d keep her safe and I let her die…” 

Joel pulled you into his chest, his arms going around you so tight he should have been worried that he was going to break you but he just couldn’t hold you close enough. 

“It’s OK Baby,” he said, voice cracking. He was drowning memories of that night. Running with Sarah, promising to protect her, feeling her die in his arms… You were still covered in blood. 

He finished getting you undressed and helped you into the shower. He stepped in with you, fully clothed. He carefully tipped your head back, rinsing the blood from your hair before moving on to the rest of you. 

“It’s OK Baby,” he said again. 

It took time to get you cleaned up. He helped you into sweats and put you to bed when you got out of the shower. He climbed in beside you and you wrapped around him, clinging to him. He looked down at you, his chest still tight. You were going to be the death of him. He could feel it. If he didn’t get some distance soon, loving you was going to kill him.

A/N: I did warn you that drama was coming. I'm sorry to say that things are going to get worse for Joel and our FMC for a while before they get better. But they will get better EVENTUALLY. It'll just take some time. And some plot points.

Thank you again for reading and interacting! Reading your thoughts and feelings about this piece is such a joy, I appreciate each and every one of you. So much love!

[thespiritssaidso]

“That’s My Shirt!” “No, That’s MY Shirt!”

Summary: Shawn’s been stealing Lassiter’s shirts (and frankly looking a lot better in them, if Shawn had to say so himself). Lassiter tries to retaliate, but fails in the worst way possible.

—————

It had been the third time this week that Lassiter had found Shawn wearing his casual shirts. They looked good on him, if Lassiter was being honest. And he liked seeing Shawn wear his clothes, but that wasn’t the point.

Lassiter was going through his closet when he had an idea. He peaked over his shoulder to see if Shawn was awake.

He was not. In fact, Lassiter didn’t think he’d ever seen him more asleep than right now. There was a small bit of drool dribbling from the corner of Shawn’s mouth and onto the pillow. His arms and legs were spread askew all over the bed, bent in unnatural positions. It looked extremely uncomfortable, but Shawn somehow made it seem like he could stay in that position until the end of time.

Quietly, so as not to further disturb him, he opened up Shawn’s shirt drawer. Surely he had some kind of nice button up shirt he could wear under his suit.

Surprisingly, there was in fact one. Actually, there were seemed to be at least three that he could see.

They did look familiar, however, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen them. Maybe Shawn had worn one on one of their dates?

Lassiter shook it off, and proceeded to choose a shirt that went with the navy blue jacket he had pre-picked already: a pink shirt that was so pale it was almost white. He slipped into it and buttoned it up.

As he tightened and straightened out his tie in the mirror, he looked back to Shawn, who hadn’t moved a single inch. Treading carefully on the hardwood floor, he snuck over and kissed Shawn gently on the forehead.

Shawn gave a small, slightly open-mouth, smile in his sleep, as if his subconscious knew his lover was giving him a small good morning kiss.

———

“Gus, I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.”

“Too bad, because we are.”

“It’s a movie, dude! A movie about time travel, it doesn’t have to make sense!”

“I know it’s just a movie, Shawn. But they should’ve at least catered to the scientists in the audience.”

“Gus, don’t be the broken flux capaciter.” Gus tsched at that. Shawn continued. “So what if Marty saw his future kid-”

“It shouldn’t have been possible! If he went forward in time then-”

“-Then he would’ve disappeared from the present, meaning his future self wouldn’t exist, and his son wouldn’t exist either.”

“Exactly, Shawn!”

“Whatever man. It’s still a good movie.”

“You know that’s right.” They shared a fist bump.

With that note, they both left the blueberry and walked into the station.

Shawn had woken up that morning to an empty bed, which wasn’t unusual, but it did make him feel a little bit lonely. But he definitely wasn’t going to bring it up to Gus, nooo no no no. Gus didn’t even know he and Lassiter were together. He’d probably lose his mind if he found out they had been sleeping with each other.

He walked to the psych office — since he left his bike in his dad’s garage — met up with Gus, and convinced him to by him a smoothie for breakfast, which was what they were both currently sipping on as they wandered into the precinct.

“Let’s see if good old Chief has any cases for us, preferably a good paying one.”

“I hear that. It’s been a while since Psych got paid.”

They were halfway to the Chief’s office when they ran into Lassiter, who was busy looking at a case file while walking.

Shawn was about to make a comment on Lassiter’s apparel, when he actually got a good look at said apparel.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?” Shawn asked at the same time Gus also asked “Is that my shirt?!”.

“Because, Shawn. I-” Lassiter donned a confused look. “Wait a minute. Your shirt, Guster?”

Gus nodded. “Yeah! That’s mine! How did you-” He turned to look at Shawn. “Shawn, I swear if you stole another one of my shirts…”

Shawn shrugged. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

“But then… why are you wearing it, Lassie?” Gus looked confused.

In a slightly more hushed tone so no one else but the other two could hear, Lassiter said, “Because it was in Shawn’s dresser. I was looking for something to wear and found this.”

Gus returned with an equally quiet voice. “Why were you going through Shawn’s dresser? I thought you hated him!”

His face pinched in confusion. “We’re dating. We live together. Did Shawn not tell you?”

Shawn watched as his best friends face twisted into one of complete shock, and decided to step in. “Hey, Carlytown, can I steal you for bit?” Not waiting for an answer, he gently began to steer Lassiter towards the conference room, away from a sputtering Gus.

The both walked in, Lassiter immediately pacing from one end of the room to the other. As Shawn shut the door and closed all the blinds, Lassiter stopped pacing and turned to face him. “You haven’t told Guster? Your best friend?”

“Why are you wearing that shirt?”

“I thought you told him everything!”

“Why are you wearing that shirt?”

Lassiter took a deep breath. “Because I had thought it was yours, Shawn. You keep stealing mine so I thought I might try it too. Except it’s obviously not…”

Shawn felt a big grin grow. “That’s really cute, babe. And don’t get me wrong, you look fantastic in that, even though it’s not mine.” Shawn reached out and started fiddling with the buttons on the shirt, messing around with the tie as well. “Although I think it’d look better off.”

He gently grabbed Shawn’s hand. “Shawn, you know how I feel about you doing this in public…”

Shawn nodded, clearing his throat. “Right.”

Lassiter shook his head. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell Guster. I assumed he was the first person you told.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll smooth it all out with him as soon as possible. Right now, probably.”

“Okay, just make sure you explain it to him outside the station. I’m still not ready to let everyone know I’m… well, that we’re…”

“Don’t worry Lassibabe, I’ve got it covered.”

—————

ao3 link

[bradshawsbaby]

Letters to My Love // Part II

Georgia on My Mind

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: For those of you who may not be aware, the United States established an emergency wartime agency known as the Office of Censorship during World War II. The purpose of the agency was to censor any sensitive information contained in letters being exchanged between servicemembers and their loved ones, in case the letters fell into enemy hands. Information that could have been censored included specific locations, as well as information regarding supplies and military operations. For the sake of authenticity, you may see some of this censorship in Bob’s letters.

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

The title for this chapter comes from the Glenn Miller song of the same name.

Dedication: Dedicated as always to @luminousnotmatter​, who gives the best pep talks when I’m psyching myself out!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war, Bob being a sweet cinnamon roll, lots of fluff.

May 28, 1942

To the Sweet Peach from Georgia,

Hi. How are you?

Gosh, that’s a terrible way to start a letter, isn’t it? I’ve tried a hundred times to come up with something more clever or witty, but each time, I’ve ended up scrapping it and I think pretty soon the Navy is going to have something to say about the amount of paper I’ve wasted. This is the farthest I’ve gotten, and I think I’m just going to have to stick with it.

I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to write this. I know it’ll take even longer for you to get it. I hope you haven’t forgotten me by now. I’m sure there’s been plenty of other lucky fellas who have been clamoring for your hand at the USO dances since I shipped out. And if you don’t feel like writing back, please know that you don’t have to. I’m already in your debt for the wonderful night we shared, and I’ll always be thankful to you for making my last night back home so special. If that’s all I get—well, I’m a lucky man indeed.

I think back on that night all the time. Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny—you remember them?—they won’t let me forget it. Even if I wanted to (which I certainly don’t), they wouldn’t let me forget. That’s another reason why it took me so long to write you—though my mother always taught me not to make excuses. But every time I would sit down and try, the boys would razz me about how I owe them big time for us meeting. They seem to want to take all the credit for dragging me to the dance that night.

Don’t tell them I said this, but I think they’re right. Going to the dance that night was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and I’m glad the fellas convinced me to do it.

Now that they consider themselves the saviors of the night, they’ve been trying to give me tips on what to say to you in my letter—the only letters I’ve ever really written are to my parents and little brothers, so I guess they think I could use the help. According to Tommy Boy, I should spend the whole letter telling you how beautiful you are and complimenting each and every one of your features. He’s not wrong, but I worry I’d never be able to finish writing the letter if I did that. Benny’s advice doesn’t really bear repeating—Paul smacked him over the head for it, if that gives you any indication.

Paul is the one who told me to write from the heart—to just tell you anything that comes to mind, like we’re having a conversation. Kind of like that night when you took me on the stroll down King Street. I’ve never found it as easy to talk to anyone as I did that night, so I figure Paul’s onto something there. I’ve decided to take his advice, much to Tommy Boy’s and Benny’s annoyance.

I know the war is probably the last thing you want to be thinking about, but I figured I should maybe update you on where I am. Or maybe that’s too presumptuous on my part. If it is, I apologize. I’m not sure if they’ll even let me tell you this, but my squadron has officially arrived in [REDACTED]. This isn’t exactly how I imagined my first time in Europe would be, but we’re safe at the moment and I suppose that’s all I can really hope for right now. It’s certainly given my mother some peace of mind, which I’m thankful for.

You want to know something? Every time I’m feeling a little down, or missing something about home, I think back to that little ice cream parlor in Charleston and the way your smile lit up when I somehow managed to make you laugh, and things don’t seem so dark and dreary anymore. I still have that little ice cream cone wrapper you gave me, by the way—the one with your address? I have it tucked away in my trunk as a memento from my last night stateside. I know I’ve said it already, but I would say it a thousand times more—thank you for that night. It meant more to me than you could ever know.

Okay, I think that’s enough rambling on about myself. How have you been? I hope you’ve been well. I hope there are days when you forget this war is even happening, though I know that’s a rather tall order. I hope you smile and laugh every day, because you really do have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen—Tommy Boy is rudely peeking over my shoulder right now and he approves of that compliment.

How are Dottie and Paddy and little Frankie? I remember that Frankie is only a month or so younger than Paul, Jr., so I imagine that they’ll be hitting a lot of their milestones around the same time. Paul received a letter from home just yesterday, and Natasha was happy to report that their boy has been laughing up a storm as of late. Paul was proud as could be to tell us all, but I think he’s a little sad, too, that he’s missing it. I still try to remind him that he’ll see them again soon.

Would you mind passing along my best to Paddy? Tell him I’m looking forward to another card game the next time I’m in Goose Creek. That goes for all the fellas in the squadron.

I’m including an address where you can send any letters you’d like to write. Again, please don’t feel like you have to. But if you’d like to, you can send your letters to Washington and they’ll make sure they get to me, wherever I am.

I’m sending you all my very best from across the Atlantic, and I hope you’re doing well, whatever you may be up to at this very moment.

Stay safe and, if it’s not too much trouble, maybe spare a thought for us every once in a while? It sure would mean a lot, especially coming from someone as special as you.

Sincerely Yours,

Ensign Robert Floyd

AKA, Bobby

June 12, 1942

Dear Bobby,

I admit that I’ve never been one for letter writing myself—funny that two people who seem to have no knack for dancing or writing letters seem to have found each other—but I think that “Hi. How are you?” is a perfectly lovely way to start a letter.

I’ll start mine by answering your question—I’m doing very well, thank you. And I’ll even ask a question of my own—how are you? I know you said in your letter that you were safe, wherever you may be in Europe—they did censor it—and I hope very much that that’s still the case.

I was so happy to receive your letter in the mail. It was the loveliest surprise! I know you had promised to write, and I believe you to be a man of your word, but I suppose there was a part of me that worried, like you, that that night in Charleston was the only night we’d have. If so, I’d more than cherish the memories, but I admit that hearing from you put a big smile on my face.

Of course I remember Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny! They sound like they would get on quite well with Dottie—she’s still very smug about the role that SHE played in our meeting that night. According to my big sister, we have her to thank for twisting my arm until I signed up to volunteer with the USO, without which we, according to her, never would have stumbled upon each other at the dance. Paddy teases her all the time that she gives herself too much credit, and that soon her head is going to get so big, it isn’t going to fit through the door. Naturally, she’s the one who went to fetch the mail the day your letter arrived and you should have seen the way she tormented me, dancing around the house with it like a child on Christmas morning—if I didn’t love her so much, I really would have absolutely screamed.

Dottie should probably be the newest member of your squadron—just like your friends, she’s been very insistent on providing lots of unsolicited advice about what I should include in my letter. She’s an absolute doll, but she often seems to forget that she and I are very different people, and that includes when it comes to letter writing. But I will take some of her advice, and let you know that the night we met was wonderful, and I’m just as grateful for the time we got to spend together. I’ve heard “Someone to Watch Over Me” a few times since that night, and every time, I can’t help but think of you.

I rather like Paul’s advice though—to write as though we’re having a conversation. I feel the same way that you do. Talking to you that night was so easy. I meant what I said on that bench on King Street—I feel as though I’ve known you so much longer than that one night. I like the idea of continuing our conversation through our letters. Just like with our dancing, I suppose we’ll help each other get the hang of it, right?

The thought of you still having that silly little ice cream cone wrapper makes me smile. Please don’t be surprised by that—you truly do have a knack for making me smile and laugh. And if the remembrance of that night can make the darkness of this war feel any lighter—even for just a moment—then I’m so glad. We’re all doing okay back here in Charleston, and I hope with all my heart that you are as well, wherever you may be right now.

Paddy’s been working long hours, and he’s often exhausted when he comes home at night, but today is one of his rare days off, so he took Dottie and Frankie on a walk to the park. He shot me a wink as they were leaving—I think he was purposely trying to get my sister out of the house so that I could write my letter to you without her “helpful” assistance. They’re all doing very well though, thank you for asking! Paddy said he’s more than ready for a match of Rummy when you all get home.

Paul must be bursting with pride in his family—though we didn’t speak long at the dance, I could tell how much he loves Natasha. If it’s even possible, I’m sure he loves his children even more. Being separated from them must be so hard, but he’s so lucky to have a wonderful friend like you. I remember what you said about the two of you always having each other’s backs. That’s important, especially at a time like this. I hope and pray that you always will be there for each other, and that you’ll help each other get home. Same goes for all your friends.

I’m not sure if this will be helpful to you at all, and if it’s not please let me know, but I thought I might describe for you what the day is like today in Charleston to give you a taste of home. Well, I know that Charleston isn’t really home for you, but since I can’t get to Iowa at the moment, I thought this might be the next best thing. I’m sitting at our table in the kitchen right now, and the window and back door are open. It’s a sunny day here in Charleston, though it is rather brutally hot. South Carolina tends to get that way this time of year. It reminds me quite a bit of summers back home in Georgia—by the way, I was touched to see that you remembered. Maybe one day we’ll get to enjoy some Georgia peaches together. Anyway, the birds are chirping outside—it’s still fairly early in the day, so there is a light breeze. I wish I could bottle up some of this good weather and send it to you, but since I can’t, please know that I’m hoping the sun is shining down on you right now. I know you need good weather for flying.

Bobby, I want you to know that that night at the dance was very special to me, too. You keep thanking me, but I feel like I should be the one thanking you. I’ve volunteered at a couple dances since then, but none have been anywhere near as wonderful. I’ll be saving a dance for you, for when you come home. If you’d like, that is.

I think of you and your friends every day, and I wish nothing more than your safe return. Thank you for your service, Bobby. Thank you for fighting to keep us safe.

I hope this letter gets to you soon, and I look forward to hearing back from you.

All my best,

The Sweet Peach from Georgia

[biancastoaster]

A Lily By Any Other Name (Is Still a Lily)

Category: Gen

Fandom: Psych (TV 2006)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Author Decided Not to Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Carlton Lassiter & OC

Characters: Lily M. Lassiter (OC), Carlton Lassiter, Carlton Lassiter's father, Shawn Spencer

Additional Tags: character death, misgendering, deadnaming, all that fun stuff, OC insert, sad Lassiter, flashbacks, homophobia, transphobia, little brother Lassiter, no beta we die like yin

Summary: Carlton visits his older sister. 

Author’s Notes: Lassiter needed an older sibling, I think it would’ve been good for him. 

I hope you guys like this, it took me a month to write. 

~~~~~~

At his desk, Carlton checked the time. Not yet. 

5 minutes went by before he checked again, and slumped back in his chair in disappointment when he saw it hadn’t been long since he last looked. 

This repeated until it finally was time. He quickly got ready to go. But just before he stood up to leave, Carlton grabbed a small file and put it inside his briefcase. He snapped the clasps shut and briskly began his way from his new office to his car. 

Halfway through the corridor, he’s stopped by an all too familiar voice. 

“Lassie! Where you going?” 

Carlton heaved a deep, exasperated sigh. Without even looking to see who it was, he kept walking away. “Not that it’s any of your business Spencer, but I’m visiting a family member.” 

Shawn caught up, ambling alongside Carlton. “Ooo, who? Is it Lauren? No wait, I got it: it’s your mother…s.”

He rolled his eyes. “None of them. I’m visiting my older sister, Lily.”

Shawn gave a look of surprise. “I didn’t know you had an older sister! Hold on, does she know you named your kid after her?”

Lassiter briskly walked out the door, Shawn still on his tail. “No, that’s why I’m visiting her today.”

“Doooes Marlowe know?”

“Yes, in fact she was the one who encouraged the name.”

“No no no, not that. Well, actually, yeah that too. But, does she know you’re visiting your sister without her?”

“Yes, she’s well aware I’m- you know what, I’m not entertaining this anymore. I need to leave now, I don’t want to be late.”

~~~

1974

It was dark out, the pitch black of night covering the neighborhood in a blanket, the sky dotted with little pinpricks of stars.  

Carlton Lassiter was in his bed, and he was tossing and turning in his sleep, mumbling nonsensical words to himself. 

He eventually woke up with a gasp. He was shaking, and he reached up to feel tear tracks on his face. He could’ve sworn that… 

But no. He was here, at home, safe in his bed. 

He wiped the remaining tears from his face, and tried to go back to sleep. But the adrenaline still lingered, keeping him awake and scared. Shadows seemed to loom from the corners, taking the form of monsters and blank figures. 

Eventually, he couldn’t take being alone in his room anymore. Grabbing his blanket, he gently hopped off his bed and onto the floor, and began making his way to his parents room. 

But right before Carlton even touched the doorknob, he hesitated. He didn’t want to bother them with something like this. His dad would probably just send him back to his room. And besides, their light was turned off, meaning his parents were fast asleep. 

So he kept going down the hall, and up the stairs. 

Carlton crept past the dining room and kitchen, and made his way to his brother Liam’s room. There was a tiny bit of light shining from under the door, nearly invisible to the untrained eye. 

He grabbed the doorknob, and as it made a small jiggling sound the light quickly turned off.

Carlton gently opened the door. “Liam?”

From the bed in the corner of the room, a head belonging to his 12 year old brother popped up from underneath the covers. “CJ? What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

He found himself unable to answer, his face screwing up and tears falling once more. 

Liam sat up, immediately concerned for his little brother. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here.”

Carlton complied, clambering onto the bed and sinking into his older brother’s arms.

“It’s okay, just let it out.”

And he did, slowly hiccuping his way through telling Liam about the whole bad dream. 

The whole time, Liam sat there, rubbing Carlton’s back periodically to try and soothe him, like he had seen people on tv do. 

After sitting for a minute, Carlton sniffled, looking up at Liam. “What were you doing before I came in?”

“Ohh, just rereading The Hobbit.” 

“Can you- can you read it to me?” 

Liam smiled. “Of course. Did you want me to start at the beginning, or where I’m at?”

“Where you left off.”

“Alright then. Get comfy, come on, CJ.”

As Carlton snuggled under the covers, Liam reached under the first pillow and grabbed the book and pen light he had hidden just before Carlton came in. 

He cleared his throat, reading out loud, “As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and a jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves…”

Carlton slowly began to become more and more drowsy as the gentle timbre of his brother’s voice lulled him to sleep. 

“He looked out of the window. The stars were out in a dark sky above the trees. He thought of the jewels of the dwarves shining in dark caverns…”

Right when he was about succumb completely to sleep, he felt Liam gently put away the book and turn out the light once more. 

~~~

present

Carlton carefully pulled into a small strip mall, right in front of a store called ‘The Flower Corner’. 

He walked in, and stood at the desk, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the lady behind the desk. 

She looked up and saw him, and quickly stood up. “Oh hello, sir! How can I help you today?”

“I’m here to pickup a bouquet. It should be under Lassiter.”

“Of course, just one second.” She tapped a few keys on her keyboard, clicking a bit with her mouse as well. “Alright then, I’ll go ahead and grab it from the back.”

Carlton began awkwardly drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited for the employee to get back. 

“Alright, here they are!” 

He looked up and saw a beautiful bunch of flowers, a mix of pink lilies and carnations, all expertly wrapped in decorative plastic to hold it all together. 

As he paid, the cashier asked, “Who are the flowers for?” 

“My sister, Lily.” 

“Awww! Well, I can definitely see why you chose the lilies, then. I’m sure she’ll love them.”

Carlton nodded stiffly. The whole interaction felt awkward to him, and he hated awkward situations. So once he had gotten the bouquet paid for, he tried his best not to run out the door. 

~~~

1976

Carlton was riding in the back of his father’s car, on the way to pick up Liam from his friend’s house. 

He couldn’t remember his name, but he was pretty sure Liam’s friend was on the football team along with Liam himself. 

Looking out the window as they pulled up to the curb next to the house, he saw figures moving around behind the windows, presumably his brother and his friend saying goodbye.  

To his surprise, Carlton watched as his older brother walked out with a girl he didn’t recognize, instead of another guy. Maybe it was Liam’s friend’s sister? 

They had stopped at the entryway to continue a conversation, talking very animatedly, using dramatic hand gestures and exaggerated expressions. 

The two — along with Carlton — were startled when his dad honked the horn. 

Liam gave an apologetic look to the girl, and she burst into laughter. They exchanged a few more words before she gave him an energetic hug, which he equally returned. 

In the rearview mirror, Carlton saw a grin forming on his father. It was very clear what he thought the hug between the two had meant. But Carlton could just tell it wasn’t that kind of hug. He’d seen his parents hug, and girls and boys — couples — hug each other public. However, he had also seen girls hugging girls — their best friends — as well. That’s what kind of hug his brother and the girl had reminded him of.

As Liam climbed into the car, his dad gave him a look. “So, who was that?” 

Liam buckled in. “Just Chuck’s sister, she’s really nice.”

“Really nice, huh?” 

Carlton caught the suggestive look on his dad at the same time Liam did. “No, dad, it’s not- she’s just nice, I barely even know her.” 

His dad laughed. “That’s how it always starts. Soon enough you’ll be all over each other.”

It was then that Carlton noticed his brother’s face. It was red. The same shade of red his mother had at the end of the day when she finally took off her makeup. 

Not red in embarrassment from his father’s comments. He looked as if he’d been rubbing it continuously to get something off.

‘Was that what Liam had been doing? Wearing makeup?’

Later that day, Carlton confronted him, demanding to know the truth. Eventually, Liam caved. 

“Okay, okay, fine. Chuck wasn’t actually there, he had something come up. But Linda was, and… she uh… needed someone to model some of her makeup for her, and she asked me since we have really close skin tones.” Liam twisted his hands. “Her words, not mine.”

Carlton was young, only 8, but he knew when his brother was lying. However, he also knew when he should and shouldn’t pressure Liam with more questions, and decided to leave it alone. 

~~~

present

Carlton pulled out of the flower shop, and onto the road once more. 

He’d been driving for at least another 5 minutes when he hit a pothole that he heard a particularly loud bump from the back. He thought it was his briefcase for a minute, but a quick glance at the passenger seat told him that wasn’t true. There was something — or someone — in the trunk. 

Carlton pulled over to the side of the road, and grabbed his gun from his holster and cocked it. 

He pointed it at the trunk door, and quickly opened it. “Freeze!”

Light flossed the trunk, and a very familiar high pitched girlish scream emerged from inside. “Nonono don’t shoot!” 

“Spencer? What the hell are you doing here?”

Shawn clumsily clambered out of the trunk, tripping momentarily before regaining his balance. “I just wanted to meet your mystery sister, man. I’ve known you for what, 8 years? And I’ve never heard you talk about you ‘big sister Lily’.”

Carlton took a deep breath. “Spencer…” he briefly thought about ditching him on the side of the road. But a quick look told him that would be inhumane. And probably illegal. He ran a hand down his face exhaustedly. “Fine. You can come.” Shawn pumped a fist. “But you’re sitting in the back.”

“Tch.” Shawn made a dissapointed face, but got in the backseat anyway. 

~~~

1978

Carlton was hiding in his room, trying his best to drown out Liam and his father’s argument they were having just down the hall. 

Liam had been caught underneath the bleachers at the track, locking lips with the captain of the football team. Chuck, Liam’s so-called best friend, was the one to catch them, snitching on the couple to Carlton’s father. 

Which was what the current argument between the two was about.  

Everything was mostly muffled, thanks to Carlton shoving a pillow over his head to drown out the noise, but he definitely heard his father say something along the lines of ‘not raising his son to be a faggot’. 

At this, Liam raised his voice even more, becoming sou loud it permeated through the pillow. “I’m not gay, Dad!”

“Oh really? And how’s that, huh?”

“Because I’m a girl!”

There was a tense silence, shortly broken by the sound of a sharp slap, followed by quick footsteps running down the hall and up the stairs. Carlton could practically feel the slam of his brother’s- no, not brother, his sister’s bedroom door reverberating through the house. 

He waited for the sound of his father following after, but there was nothing.

Quietly, he opened his door. Carlton silently tiptoed upstairs, making sure he didn’t make too much sound. After a short trip, he made it upstairs, gently knocking on the door to his sister’s bedroom.   

“Are you alright-” he opens the door, and stops. So does Liam, who’s in the middle of shoving a t-shirt into a slowly overflowing backpack. “Liam? What are you doing?” 

Carlton sees her wince at the name. “I just… need some space from dad. I’m gonna stay at a friend’s house for a bit, wait for him to cool down a bit.”

“But, why is he mad at you for being a girl?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, buddy. Some people just, I can’t- they’re not really-” Her face started to scrunch up, eyes filling with tears. “But don’t worry, I won’t be gone for long, okay?”

He didn’t understand, but he nodded anyway. “Okay…”

She slung her backpack over her shoulder, and slid the window leading outside open. Just before slipping out, she paused and turned around. “Hey Carlton, can I ask you a favor?”

He perked up a little. “What is it?”

She scooted to the edge of the window, prepping to jump down. “Remember how you asked all of us to stop calling you CJ?” 

At least Carlton was able to understand this. “Yeah. It felt like a girly name to me.”

She smiled. “That’s kind of what I’m doing. ‘Liam’ doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, what do you want me to call you?”

“Lily. Just call me Lily instead.”

“Lily.” He tested it out “Okay. Bye Lily.”

“Bye Carlton. I’ll see you soon.” And with that, she jumped from the windowsill and landed nimbly on the soft grass far below. Lily wasted no time in booking it down the road, her figure quickly fading from sight as the night swallowed her. 

~~~

Present

Carlton’s hands subconsciously gripped the steering wheel as he remembered that night. He did get to see her again after that. Very soon, in fact. Just not in the way he had hoped. 

It had been a hit and run. There was only one bystander, and they hadn’t been close enough to see the car’s details in the pitch black of night. 

Carlton remembered sitting in the hospital waiting room with his parents and Lauren, the latter of whom was napping in her baby carrier, anxiously anticipating any news of Lily’s condition. 

He remembered someone coming out and whispering to his parents solemnly, something about Liam’sconditions, and how he wasn’t going to make it. 

He remembered going to her room and being told to say his goodbyes to Liam, seeing her broken and damaged body lying limply on the hospital bed. 

He remembered begging her still unmoving body to come back, to not leave him alone. 

He remembered being dragged away, tears flowing like a river as her heart monitor flatlined. 

He remembered his father reprimanding him, telling him he was tarnishing Liam’s memory by calling her Lily. 

He remembered that was the night that the last shred of respect he had for his dad crumbled away. 

It was as though he had just gotten to know his big sister, and then she was yanked away from him. 

As much as he hated it, it was the final push he needed in finalizing his decision of pursuing a career as a police officer, then head detective, then his current position as Chief of police. 

“Wait, Lassie this is-” Shawn cut himself off, immediately realized where they were going. “Oh man. I- I’m sorry, I had-”

“It’s fine, Spencer. You didn’t know.” Carlton said, his tone uncharacteristically soft.  

He pulled his car onto a gravelly path, bumping slightly along as he searched for-

There. He could see it from here. It wasn’t like it could be moved, but he almost always lost it in the sea of granite and marble, and would have to go on a search. 

He parked, and reached into the passenger seat where his briefcase and the bouquet still sat. 

“I’ll just- just wait here, Lassie. Me and dead people… it’s really depressing.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to come anyway, Spencer.” Just before he closed the door, he pointed a threatening finger at Shawn. “You touch anything in here and I will not hesitate to shoot you. Copy?” 

Shawn said nothing, simply giving him a mock salute. Carlton rolled his eyes and shut the door. 

He walked up to a gray marble tombstone. The area had been mowed recently, so there was still some grass clippings scattered on the base of it. 

Liam Lily Mark Lassiter 

1962-1978

son daughter, brother sister, friend

Carlton smiled a bit to himself. Normally, he was opposed to defacement of property, but this was an exception in his eyes. Lily deserved to have her true name on the stone that marked her final resting place. 

He kneeled down and, after brushing away the grass clippings, gently set the bouquet in front of the tombstone, making sure none of the words were obscured. He’d already taken the plastic wrapping off. The world didn’t need more trash littered everywhere. 

“Hey Lily. I know it’s been a while. A few months, actually.” 

Carlton shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. “I got promoted. I’m Chief of police now, like I’ve always worked for.” 

The tombstone sat silently.

“Uhmm, Marlowe gave birth, too. In the back of a food truck, of all places. Of course, it was all Spencer’s and Guster’s fault. I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you, huh?” 

Silence.

He continued. “It’s a girl, and god she is so beautiful. She has your eyes. We named her after you.” 

Still silence. 

“I have something else.” He reached beside him for his briefcase, and pulled out the file from earlier. “I managed to get your name legally changed. It was one hell of a legal battle, but Mom and Althea and I managed it. You’ll be getting a new tombstone soon, one with your real name.”

Taking a deep breath, he went on. “I miss you, Lily. But, not as much as I used to. I hope you don’t mind.”

A gentle breeze brushed by him, ruffling his hair. 

Carlton cleared his throat. “I’m… not good at saying goodbye. Even after all these visits. You’d think I’d get the hang of it by now.” 

Somewhere in a nearby tree, a bird tittered. 

“Okay, I’ll try to come back sooner next time. I know you don’t like waiting.” He packed up his briefcase once more, and turned away, heading back to his car. 

~~~

Bonus: 

Lily watched as he left, swinging her feet from the tombstone, a soft smile playing on her lips. She looked exactly how she had when she died, but somehow emulated an air of femininity she would never have been able to achieve while alive. 

She waved, even though she knew her little brother wouldn’t see it. “Bye, Carlton.”

[obsidiancreates]

One Undead To Another (Chapter 11)

Gus sleeps for most of the day, and when he wakes up he immediately calls Father Wesley. 

“Gus! What a surprise, how’re you doing?”

“I’m uh… yeah, anyway.”

“Oh. That bad?”

“Father, what do you know about vampires? Specifically how to proof a home against them?”

“Vampires? I’m afraid I’m less versed in vampires than demons, my boy. For one thing, demons are real.”

“Well… how would I keep a demon that acts like a vampire out of my house?”

“Rephrasing it doesn’t change my sphere of knowledge, Gus. However, I would generally advise keeping holy items very near your person. Do you have anything like a rosary necklace?”

“No. I’ll look for one online.”

“Good, good. Now, if you’re truly convinced an unholy creature is out for you, I also advise keeping a bible in every room, and staying far away from any demonic or occult activity or items.”

“Way ahead of you. … Kind of.”

“What else, ahum… I can bless a bottle of water for you over the phone.”

“That works?”

“I don’t see why it shouldn’t.”

“Alright, holy water… now, do you know where to get bedsheets with crosses all over them?”

“Not personally… but I know several of the students here at the university have asked during confession if sleeping on bedsheets with Jesus’s face on them is a sin, so I believe you’ll find what you need online or in specialty shops.”

“Great. Now, let’s talk about the ethics of using bible pages as wallpaper.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“God.” Shawn waits. Nothing.

“Oh my go-” Immediate coughing, ash puffing out as he tries to cover his mouth.

“Okay,” he wheezes. He picks up the receipt, his own handwriting now following Gus’s as he adds to the list. He adds Can’t claim God to it. Good thing he doesn’t believe in God anyway. Should he? Probably not. Is Gus going to keep believing in God after all this? The vampire thing is kind of confirming his existence, but the psychic thing is negating it, so… what’s even the deal there?

“Any chance anyone wants to clear that up for me?”

No vision, voices, or Feelings.

“Great. Well, my throat is just about shot.” More than, actually– he’s pretty sure it’s bleeding from how dry it is, especially now. “Any chance I can receive a little divine guidance on how to not kill people and get some blood at the same time? Blood bank doesn’t count, that’s a cop-out and a cliche.”

“... Come on. Give me something to work with. I’m not– I’m not used to being this… this lost, okay? I…”

Died. Made a bad decision, got into a bad situation, and died. No clever last-minute saves, no stalling until Lassie and Jules got there, no sitting in The Blueberry knowing he would store the incident away as Another Fun Anecdote. 

He died. 

And now he could hurt the people he loves most. And he’s always been reckless, and impulsive, and inconsiderate of consequence, and it’s gotten his loved ones into trouble in the past, but now that trouble is him and it feels…

… It actually feels worryingly normal, just… more present. The little twist, whisper, condemnation in the back of his head whenever something went horribly wrong and everyone else paid for it is stronger now. And that means he should start really listening to it.

But it’s all he’s listening to, apparently. He scoffs. “Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.

He gets on his bike and heads for the Psych office. Sure, he could do his research at home, but he always works better in the office anyway.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Juliet wakes up, the first thing she does is call her partner.

“O’Hara?”

“Carlton, how much do either of us know about vampires?”

“I read Dracula once in highschool.”

“That’s what I was afraid of… we’re going to need to either do our own research, or rely on Gus to direct us how to handle this.”

“Way ahead of you, O’Hara.”

“... How?”

“I called McNab to tell him to look for any preserved journals or personal items in the remains of that mansion. By the way, apparently Spencer told the whole department we’re sick.”

“Oh my god, that’s right, he went down there. Did Buzz say anything? Did Shawn act… okay?”

“He said Spencer kept his motorcycle helmet on the whole time and sounded like someone took a sander to his throat.”

“Buzz said that.”

“Well… I’m paraphrasing.”

“Right. Okay, well, hopefully Buzz finds something for us. But we should make a plan for if he doesn’t.”

“How? The only source of information we can actually consider even moderately reliable is whatever that cult left behind.”

“Well, I’m about ninety percent sure that as soon as Gus vampire-proofs his house, he and Shawn will start doing incredibly stupid and dangerous experiments to test what’s real and what’s not.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“We’ll have to offer to help.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Today of all days,” Chief Vick mutters, sorting through files to make room for the one coming in later. “Henry, I know this isn’t exactly in your job description but–”

“I’ll visit the scene, Karen.”

“Thank you. With your son and both of my best detectives out today, we may as well be looking at a cold case without your help. Now, the house burned down is the same one they all visited in connection with the three murders from earlier this week. Lassiter and O’Hara had dismissed the residents as suspects, but in my opinion this feels like some kind of act of revenge. We’ve got a reported six bodies, all burnt to nothing but ash and bones.”

“Ash and bones, huh?” Henry seems to mull something over in his head, pursing his lips and nodding. “Any witness reports?”

“None, it’s a secluded area. Even the road leading up to the driveway is practically abandoned.”

“Why would anyone live in an area like that?”

“Your son thought it was because the group staying there weren’t planning on sticking around for long.”

“Because of the murders.”

“Precisely. You know, I have to say I didn’t understand Lassiter and O’Hara’s hunches, on this one. I think your son was onto something. I I want you keeping an eye out for signs of other foul play while you’re there, anything that suggests these investors weren’t being honest, about their intentions for visiting.”

“Nothing suspicious slips by me, Karen. You know that.”

“Good. Now get going.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

McNab picks over the remains of the basement, eyes wide as he pulls out another horror-movie style wiggle-bladed dagger. “Detective Lassiter is going to be really upset he’s missing out on this search.”

“DIdn’t even know the guy could get sick,” the crime CSI guy says, snapping a photo of one of the piles of bones. “Or the psychic. Or Detective O’Hara. The other guy, yeah.”

“I know. Shawn getting sick seems impossible. … Should we send them all a get-well card?”

“Yeah, sure, and I’ll let Lassiter know I’ve got a squirrel feeder in my yard.”

“... I’m going to pick one up on the way back to the station.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Henry pulls up to Gus’s apartment complex, walks up to the door, and knocks.

He hears a cough (too immediate, too rough, he can practically hear Gus dramatically doubling over like when he and Shawn were kids playing something that involved them dying), a “One second!” and then footsteps.

Gus answers the door in a hastily thrown on robe (belt is loosely tied, button-up shirt clearly visible underneath) and sleep slippers (the toe cover is bent on the left one, Gus shoved them on in a panic). “Mr. Spencer?” (forced raspiness to the voice, he coughs into his hand like he’s on a soap opera, no visible irritation in his throat when he’s coughing).

“Gus. Yeah, Shawn swung by earlier, said you were all sick, figured I’d check in and make sure this wasn’t some lame-ass stunt to get out of a case he was being blocked on.”

“Oh, uh, no. No, all must’ve caught someone from one of the suspects, maybe.”

“Yeah, Shawn sounded like hell. You uh, sound a little less under weather, though.”

“My immune system is just highly evolved.”

“Mmm-hmm. You know, Shawn’s throat was really the only symptom he had, actually. He had his helmet on the whole time, too.”

“Forgetting to take his bike helmet off doesn’t seem like a symptom to you?”

“Kid, he forgot to put on pants before coming to me for advice last week.”

“Right. Well um–” His rasp is slipping, voice going in and out of its normal sound. “– I’m going to go back to bed now.”

“Sure, sure. Just wanted to double-check. Oh, and uh, before I go.”

“Yes?”

“Where were you and Shawn last night?”

Gus’s face doesn’t know what to do– so he’s thinking about how to react. He settles on confusion after a beat. “Well, I was in bed all night. Sawing logs, counting sheep, catching sweet Z’s, snoring up a storm.”

“And Shawn?”

“Not sure. Probably doing the same, or watching a horror movie.”

“Horror movie.”

“Or, any, movie.”

“... Alright. Well, rest up, we’ve got a big update in your current case. House of a group of suspects burned down last night.”

“What? Oh… no!” 

Henry smirks. Just like he remembers from the school plays. “Bye, Guster.”

He leaves, and hears the door slam shut behind him. His smirk falls off as he goes over the information in his head. It’s all adding up to a concerning picture.

He’s certain was there, at that house, while it burned down. The raspy throat is obviously because he inhaled smoke and ash, the refusal to take off the helmet probably to hide signs of an altercation, and ‘everyone being sick’ just about waves a big old flag saying ‘FOUR PARTY COVER-UP’ in his face. He doubts Shawn would burn a place down on purpose, but the old ‘grease fire in the bathroom distraction’ is a plan Shawn’s thrown out more than once, both in his childhood and adulthood.

And this time, six people ended up dead.

But why would Lassiter and Juliet cover that up for him? Gus, that’s no surprise, Juliet is, but Lassiter is the most perplexing part of this puzzle.

He gets into the black-and-white and turns on the siren so he can get to the scene as fast as possible. His son might’ve accidentally manslaughter six people pulling a dumb stunt to fake psychic with. He’ll be damned if he lets Officer McNab find evidence of that before he does.

He needs to gather enough to confront Shawn with, after all.

[vibratingskull]

The last farewell

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

Tags : Angst/hurt/comfort, physical remission, hospital, reader is disabled

You spend your time in the hospital learning how to walk again when Thrawn visits you with an unexpected demand

FemaleReader x Thrawn

“Another step”, the meddroid proposes its voice echoing in the gymnase. 

You hold down the parallel bar and take another step, unsure. 

You're trembling, searching for your balance on those robotic legs. You're not used to them yet. They feel foreign to you despite connecting to your nervous system. Your muscles are shaking as you relearn how to walk. 

You lost so much. 

“Continue the rehabilitation, you are on the right track!” the droid speaks with what is surely supposed to be coded as excitement in the voice, but it just comes out weird. 

You sit on your wheelchair and take out the legs, you still have an immense hill ahead of you. 

You sigh. You're tired. 

“Let's go to your room,” the droid informe stepping forward to push you. 

“No. I'll do it myself,” you decide, waving at him to get out of your way. 

You roll in the hallway, lost in your thoughts. You have so much work ahead of you, so much to reconquer… You're supposed to receive the visit of lower officers but you don't want their pity thrown in your face, you need peace. 

You want peace. 

You arrive at his room. 

You don't get your hopes up, but you can't help it. 

You pass the door… and sigh. 

Vez is still in a coma. 

You roll up to his bed. 

“Hello friend. It is particularly sunny today, you would love to stroll in the garden and sketch some plants.“

He is unresponsive. It's not like a doctor told you he would wake up soon, but it still pains you to see. 

If they have been cruel to you, they have been down right animalistic to Vez. His legs have been cut and he lost both of his lekkus. You're not totally aware of what it entails but you remember the lekkus hold some brain tissues. The docs say he will not have long term brain damages but you doubt he will see it that way. What they took was irreplaceable and you're afraid of his reaction. 

For now he's sleeping peacefully as you were, unaware of his body's damages. Like you his brain puts him in a deep sleep to prevent him from damaging his psyche, docs say he will wake up when the brain will have finished processing what happened but he can still hear around him and feel some sensations. So you come here everyday to talk, to vent, to speak of everything and nothing, trying to put him at ease the best you can. You take his hands, caress his forehead, his cheek, you tell him tales of Ryloth and your own planet, anything you could think about. After the Chimaera left you both at a military hospital you observed these habits religiously. Thrawn wanted first to put Vez in a civil hospital but you refused and fought him on that until he surrendered. You wanted to be here when your friend woke up. 

“I'm making progress with the legs, I thought they would be heavier but once they have been connected to your nervous system they are so light.“

Your hand reaches for the metallic apparatus they jabbed in your spine to control the legs and grazes it lightly.

“We don't stop medical progress,” you say almost to yourself.

You hear his bed neighbor cough, you tilt your head to see if they need help. 

“By the way, yesterday your mom tried to see you. She can't because it's a military hospital but your family is worried about you. I could discuss a bit with her, you're so alike it is fascinating, you caress his cheek, you take his hand and squeeze it. Don't worry, I'll ask Thrawn to put pressure on the direction so she could see you.” 

“A Grand Admiral influence is not supposed to be used as such,” a voice rises behind you. 

You jump in your wheelchair before turning your head to Thrawn, hands clasped behind his back with an interrogative gaze. 

“You scared me,” you chastise him. “How did you know I was here ?” 

“I knew you would not be present at your own meeting with the officers, you were not in the gymnase, it was the only logical option.” 

You nod. Of course. He comes to sit next to you and observe the body of Vez in silence. 

“He did not wake up?” He asks with a soft voice. 

“Not yet,” you shake your head. “The doctors aren't optimistic.“

He nods in silence. 

”Why are you here ?” You inquire. 

He turns towards you with a puzzled look. 

“To give you what you asked me,” he responds like it was obvious. 

You can see the bag he's transporting

“Yes of course, but what are you doing here, on Coruscant ?” 

“I have a martial court about how I supposedly almost destroyed a city to retrieve you.” 

You flush. 

“Didn't you ?” You tease. 

“Absolutely not, each parameter was studied to do the least damage possible, but it was impossible not to deal some damage to the buildings nearby. The arrest of a large slave abductors demanded some sacrifices.” 

He sounds almost angry, but you know better. You hide your smile, it is pretty funny to see Thrawn flounder in politics, it has an innocent and moving side to it. Without thinking about it you take his hand and kiss it. He looks you in the eyes with an unreadable expression. You immediately regret it, maybe he doesn't like physical demonstration of affection in public… 

“Let me escort you to your room,” he says. 

He rises and goes to push your wheelchair, once again you refuse. 

“No, no, no. I can do it. Let me do it.” 

You head towards the room, side by side, he gently adjusts his pace to yours. You advance in silence in the corridors. 

You really hope you didn't cross a line with him… 

You enter, he goes straight to open the window while you maneuver to go to bed. He closes and locks the door and sits on the bed. You look at him with sorry spelled in your eyes. He grasps your hand and caresses it with his thumbs. 

“ I heard you will soon be interrogated by the ISB agents.”

“In three days,” you sigh,” it promises to be hilarious.”

“It is for the good of the Empire.”

“Sure…”

You gulp, in reality you try as much as you can to not think about what happened or you feel yourself overflowed by hate, anger and sorrow. 

It’s eating you alive, terrifying you. You may or may have not exaggerated certain symptoms to get a higher dosage of the drugs to get high and forget. You don’t brag about it to Thrawn, obviously.

“ The date of the trial have been chosen,” he continues

You dig your nails in the sheet.

“Okay…”

Thrawn already explained to you how Nather was surprised by the flash operation, how him and his goons fighted in each rooms, how much lives he took, how he almost made the entire structure collapse on itself with everyone under it when he realized he was trapped but was swiftly disarmed by a precise shot of one of the Stormtroopers. Now he remains silent, surrounded by his army of lawyers in the prisons of the Empire, he refuses to give any intel or names to the ISB agents, hiding behind his pride and his fan. As a prominent Governor he doesn't get the rough treatment, but they are not nice to him either, he holds on surprisingly well. 

You’re not ecstatic at the idea of seeing him again, even in the perspective of his own trial. You’re happy justice will be served, but you don’t know how you’ll react in his present. Will you burst into tears or try to kill him on the spot? Maybe you will go into a deafening torpor and dissociate completely from your body. You don’t know… for now the simple idea of seeing him again makes you sick. 

Thrawn puts your hand to his lips and kisses it delicately. 

“I know it is painful and uncomfortable, but it must be done, he tries to comfort you, be strong.”

You gulp.

“ … Will you be with me?”

“ I have to give my own testimony, so yes. I will be at your side.”

You feel relieved to hear that, knowing that you won’t be alone in this trial alleviate the pain and ease the knot in your stomach.

Thrawn reaches for the bag, changing the difficult subject

“I brought you what you asked for.”

You take it to verify what it holds. You found your purse, the key to your apartment, some holos, your personal datapad… You thank him with a heartfelt smile. He nods with a serious face. 

“There is also an important matter I wish to discuss with you,” he says with the most stern face. 

“Okay ?” 

You brace yourself, he looks a bit tense and that scares you. What could possibly put him in this state ? Are you both suspected in the affair? Did you do something wrong? Outside of getting yourself imprisoned like a damn rookie. Is he gonna criticize your tactical decisions on that day? Is he entangled in problems after helping you out? Did they criticize him for engaging in armed conflicts while on supposed vacation. Come to think of it, he surely didn't take any vacations and planned this from the beginning. 

You look at him ready for any slap across the face, but he manages to surprise you. 

“(Y/n), would you live with me?” 

The air is punched out of your lungs and you can't think straight during three seconds 

“ Would I… What ?” 

By reflex you retract your hand from his and pull the sheet over yourself. 

“Would you live with me?” 

“Yes, I heard the first-I mean… Urgh... Why ?” 

He holds his chin like he is gathering arguments. 

“I do not think you will be able to keep the apartment Governor Satlove is paying for you.” 

You tried to push that thought away so many times, but he's right, unfortunately. 

“And I am already living in the apartment you rent me, I think we should try.”

Well, you didn’t see him as that keen but it looks like you were wrong. And you can’t help a snarky remark.

“ Isn’t it just an adroit ploy to stop paying me your rent?” You grin.

“ No, I am serious, I think we can both benefit from that idea.”

“ I know. It’s a joke. I was joking.”

He looks like he’s computing the info. 

You munch on your lower lip, feeling like a little girl. You giggle, squirming on the bed like a child. 

You never lived with one of your… partners? 

“It seemed to me like a good solution, but I understand you would not appreciate the idea,” he tempers.

“No, no, no! It’s a good idea! It’s just… It’s so sudden.”

“ I figured that is what people like us tend to do.”

“ And what “people like us” are?” You ask.

He seems to think about it.

“Ch'an'ecivon'ot.”

“I have no idea what that means.” You smile wryly

“In basic you would say…” He caresses your hand with the tip of his fingers “Soulmates.”

You freeze again, processing the info.

“That is what we are then?” you ask breathlessly. “Isn’t it a tad dramatic?”

“You think?” He smiles lightly “I thought about us and I liked how that sounded.”

He seems to notice your reluctance.

“I shocked you.”

“No? No, no,no” You try and temper “It’s just that you're coming out really strong and serious and…”

“Yes, I am serious. I am serious about our relationship. Are you not?”

“I… Didn’t have time to properly think about it.” You admit.

He gauges you up and down.

“Do you love me?” he asks bluntly.

You're so taken aback, being cornered like that. Your mouth and throat are dry, you open your lips to speak but nothing comes out.

You love him.

You do, oh yes you do.

But you never worded it, and even less spoke it out loud.

He seems to relax and smile sadly at your discomfited expression.

“Pardon me. It is wrong of me to ask you without telling you first. I should not have put you in a corner like that.” He gently holds your face and kiss your forehead, “Do not fret, cha’cah.”

You slowly relax under his touch.

“Alright, I must go now. I wish you a rapid recovery… “

He seems to hesitate. 

“And come back to me quickly,” he said it so low you almost didn’t hear it.

But you did hear it.

He kisses your forehead and leaves the room.

You look in your purse if he didn’t put your comlink in, but find something else. With a raised eyebrow you take out the envelope simply signed with “Eli”. You completely forgot about that. You never took the time to read the last letter your friend left for you.  You open it carefully, taking ou the folded sheet of paper.

“ (Y/n), I hope this letter finds you better than when I left. I must leave to help Thrawn, but I trust we will see each other again, if you stay by his side it is bound to happen, I am sure. Do not leave his side, it is the most secure place in all the galaxy, and I have reason to think you are not safe. I had the occasion to speak with Governor Satlove alone, and this man sent shivers down my spine, I see nothing behind his eyes but a black void. I do not trust this man (Y/n) and so should you, something is not right with him. He made some inappropriate advances and tried to convert me to his church without my interest. I pushed him back but he insisted. There is something about him downright animalistic and uncivilized despite the dignity he drapes himself in. I had the occasion to speak about it with Thrawn and he agreed with me. Do not refuse the help of a friend, and accept my warning. I picked upon your disdain towards me recently, and even though I don’t know why I want you safe. If I ever did something to anger you, know that I am truly sorry. I wish I could tell you face to face, but I have to go. 

Farewell my friend, I hope to see you under better auspices.

Eli.”

This time tears roll down freely, your body is shaken by sobs, your hands holding the letter tremble erratically. 

“Eli… Oh Eli…” You cry.

How could you? How could you doubt him? Your own friend. But maybe you don’t deserve to call him friend after how you treated him. You hold the letter against your heart. He never deceived you, it’s all Nather’s fault, isolating you more and more, until you had no friend remaining. But he couldn’t get rid of Thrawn and Eli completely. And he won’t be able anymore…

“Hey, girl! How are you feeling?”

You raise your head in surprise, an overjoyed Karyn is here but her expression changes immediately when she sees you crying. She immediately sits on the bed and takes your hand.

“What’s happening (Y/n)?”

“Eli… Eli…“ You can’t formulate a proper sentence.

She takes you in her arms and cradles you.

”We will find him. I promise,” she assures.

She doesn't know the truth, and it is not your place to reveal it. So you just hug her back, squeezing her in your arm, appreciating the warmth of a friend.

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

[empressofthewind]

I made a comprehensive list of every time Mello and Near interact/mention each other/think about each other in the manga (minus a few brief mentions because they didn’t feel notable enough; things like Near saying that Light wants him and Mello dead, etc). I compiled this for my own reference, but I figured someone else might find it useful so here it is!

Chapter 59

-         Mello walks past a room at Wammy’s House where Near is sitting and appears to look in

-         Mello and Near are called into Roger’s office and informed of L’s death

 Chapter 60

-         Mello thinks about how much he wants to beat Near, establishing their rivalry and Mello’s primary motivation throughout the mafia arc

 Chapter 61

-         Continuation of Roger’s office scene

-         There is a flashback where Mello receives a paper graded less than Near’s and glances back to see a crowd of students admiring Near’s score

-         Mello hands L’s role over to Near

-         Near is quite willing to work with Mello and looks sad, or perhaps a little annoyed, when he leaves

 Chapter 62

-         Near pulls Mello’s photo out of… where exactly?? His shirt???

 Chapter 63

-         Near says “it might be better if the notebook moves from the hands of the Japanese police into someone else’s possession”. I find this line interesting because the context suggests that he wants Mello to get the notebook; he’s talking about how he’s going to let L, who he sees as incompetent, deal with the kidnapping, i.e., he assumes L will fail to negotiate and the Death Note will be handed over to the mafia, so the line suggests that this could be a good thing (or at least the lesser of two evils, in which the mafia having the Death Note is more favourable than the task force having the Death Note). Maybe Near assumes that Mello acquiring the Death Note will result in the SPK ultimately getting more information about it, which isn’t technically wrong, but there is the intermediate step that many of his employees will be killed... there is no indication that he predicted that, though

 Chapter 64

-         Near looks like he’s smiling each time Mello outsmarts Light. Per my previous ramble, this could be another sign that he wants Mello to acquire the Death Note and is excited that Light is failing to prevent this. Alternatively, he finds it funny that Light is so incompetent. Or a combination of the two.

 Chapter 65

-         Near interrogates Mr Yagami about whether Mello was eating chocolate, and sort of compliments his plan by describing it as “elaborate”

 Chapter 66

-         Mello kills most of the SPK’s members

-         Near tells Light about Mello

-         The task force receives the drawings of Mello and Near, in addition to information about Wammy’s House

 Chapter 67

-         Near tells Light he is going to capture Mello and tries to explain Mello’s thought process behind sparing Chief Yagami and certain members of the SPK – it’s clear he understands Mello’s psyche in depth, and also feels that he is one of the people who matters to Mello (“Kira, you and L are all just people standing in his way”), though obviously not in a positive way

-         Near states that “Mello isn’t stupid”

 Chapter 68

-         Mello requests that the president tell him all the SPK’s movements, meanwhile Near tries to track Mello

 Chapter 75

-         Near mentions Mello when discussing the fact that the task force joined up with Kira

-         He says the words “Luckily, Mello escaped”, suggesting that he is happy Mello survived. There are several ways to interpret this. A) He believes Mello will cooperate with him at some point, which is also supported in chapter 76. B) He believes Mello has the knowledge and skills to track down Kira on his own (and to Near, either of them catching Kira is a victory). C) He did not want Mello to die for sentimental reasons. Mello is someone he grew up with and canonically, he likes and cares about Mello. I could realistically believe that Kira aside, Near was just glad that Mello lived

 Chapter 76

-         Light says, “Near would probably believe Mello” and damn right he would

-         Near once again analyses Mello’s thought process and basically implies that he needs Mello in order to progress through the case. He asks his team to give Mello all their information if they come into contact with him

-         Mello thinks about Near whilst an attractive woman showers in front of him

-         Mello visits Near’s headquarters in his classic dramatic fashion and Near welcomes him

 Chapter 77

-         Near defends Mello when Gevanni and Rester act wary of him

-         Near compliments Mello’s achievements in the case thus far, which Mello misinterprets as Near using him as a tool

-         Near gives back Mello’s photo (once again, pulling it out of his shirt) in exchange for information

-         “Dear Mello” is written on the back of the photo which indicates to Mello that Near always intended to give it back and wasn’t just holding it for future blackmail or with some other malicious intent

-         Mello gives his iconic “I’ll be waiting for you” line

 Chapter 78

-         Near lies to the task force about the circumstances of Mello’s visit

-         Light tries to convince Near that Mello is lying to him, but Near doesn’t even entertain the notion

-         Near says “I believe Mello over a Shinigami”

-         Near volunteers to write Mello’s name in the Death Note, expecting the task force to say no

 Chapter 79

-         Mello sends Mogi to the SPK headquarters and tells Near he’s good at interrogating; Near is impressed with Mello’s plans

-         Near justifies Mello’s questionable actions to Mogi

-         Near’s hideout gets raided two days later whilst Mello is still on the phone, which suggests that they’ve been working together to interrogate Mogi for those two days (or they’ve at least been in contact with each other)

-         Light proposes that Mello was responsible for the attack which Near doesn’t buy for a second

 Chapter 80

-         Near tells Mello that he’s going to escape from the SPK building

-         Mello looks annoyed when the raid happens – it could be because his plan was interrupted, or some rare semblance of concern for Near’s wellbeing (I am firmly of the belief that he never wanted Near to get hurt or die, even if it was just because a victory by default is not a victory in his eyes), or it could also be related the fact that Near is discarding a very large portion of a fortune that Mello was a potential heir to

 Chapter 82

-         Near explains Mello’s thought process in detail to Aizawa with the context of their upbringing at Wammy’s House

 Chapter 83

-         Near asks Lidner to give Mello information about the case, except that Light is L as he has faith that Mello will also reach that conclusion – presumably, if Mello independently identifies Light as the prime suspect, it would strengthen his conviction

-         Mello correctly assumes that Near wanted Lidner to give him all his information, but does a lot of mental gymnastics to convince himself that they’re just doing favours for one another rather than outright working together

 Chapter 85

-         Mello tries to guess what Near was thinking when he gave Mello information, nothing particularly notable but it’s interesting that they both have a good understanding of one another and their thought processes/working styles

 Chapter 86

-         Continuation of Mello pondering Near’s intentions in giving him information. Interesting to note that he doesn’t come across as angry at all when he thinks about Near – the interaction in chapter 77 was tense but it really feels like he mellows out after that (pun intended)

 Chapter 90

-         Near mentions that Mello is a wanted criminal, and that he “lets his emotions control him”

 Chapter 94

-         This is the first time Near’s finger puppets are shown, and Mello’s puppet is positioned next to his in the collection. They seem to be arranged by organisation (so the SPK’s puppets are together, the task force’s puppets are together, and Near and Mello’s are side-by-side in the middle)

 Chapter 99

-         Near is frustrated by Mello interfering, and asks Lidner to stop him “at all costs” – this is one of the few times that Near seems genuinely angry in the manga

-         Near mentions that Mello wouldn’t respond if he contacted him

 Chapter 100

-         There isn’t much shown of Near’s reaction to Mello’s death (even his facial expressions are hidden) and he is very quick to cut Lidner off when she’s about to mention him

 Chapter 103

-         Near retrieves Mello’s puppet and gives him credit for the victory. His eyes are obscured in these panels

 Chapter 104

-         Near goes into detail about why he owes the victory to Mello, and explains that he has always believed the two of them could only surpass L together rather than alone

-         Lidner mentions that in her last conversation with Mello, he said “I guess I’m going to have to do it”, and when he’s shown, he looks very sombre – Near doesn’t believe he thought far ahead enough to know that the notebook in Near’s possession was fake, but there is an implication that the act of kidnapping Takada was done in an effort to assist Near, rather than surpass him as was his goal in the beginning

-         Mello’s eyes are obscured in the panel that’s shown of him, and Near’s eyes are obscured most of the time whilst he’s talking about Mello – this doesn’t necessarily mean anything but it makes them look sad. I find it hard to believe this wasn’t deliberate

 Chapter 108

-         Near is shown eating a bar of chocolate