#med change ups are never fun this one just happened at an unfortunate time in general probably.

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[truths33k3r4]

CHAPTER 8 - Hidden Scars

Raphael raised his hands defensively.

 “ Am I wrong?? ”

Leo dropped his shoulders and bobbed his head at his far-from-sensitive brother. He was still being mindful of the pointed syringe in his hand, but still wanted to show his disapproval of Raph’s comment.

“ Really, Raph? “

His crimson-detailed brother only shrugged, raising his eyebrows. He opened his mouth, most likely about to spout out another hurtful comment, or perhaps a weakly-supported defense, but was interrupted by their youngest brother making his way through the still open doorway of the Med Bay.

“ Yeah, dude. That’s rich hearing YOU complain about someone's fear of needles.”

Raphael’s face instantly changed. His calm relaxed eyes grew wide the tiniest bit, forcing his pupils to constrict. His open mouth closed, hiding the spit he gulped down. His posture became tight as his arms crossed over his plastron, almost like a shield over his prideful, yet sensitive heart.

“ Yeah whatever.. “ Raph mumbled as he rolled his eyes.

Mikey smirked as understanding washed over his face. He immediately recognized the opening for relentless teasing and payback for the MANY times Raph had made fun of him for his phobias.

‘ Time to taste your own medicine, big bro. ‘

“ No please, Raph, tell us all about the times you’ve been SO brave when it came to getting a shot. Tell the whole class! “ Mikey gestured to Leo and Don. ( Probably not Lotus, seeing how she was still….out of commission.)

Raph’s shoulders rose as they dug further into his plastron. 

“ Shut up. “ Raph hissed through gritted teeth.

Unfortunately, Raph’s growing annoyance only fueled Mikey’s thirst for vengeance.

“ Tell us all about the time dad found you hiding in the tv cupboard. “ Mikey was now speaking in a demeaning, baby-like tone, “ Was it because you were scaaaared of a wittle needleeee??? “

Raph’s shoulders now escalated nearly to his ears, as he gritted and bared his sharp teeth. 

He was the only one of his brothers to have fangs, and often used such a trait to scare them when they were kids. They would joke sometimes that when God created Raph, He knew that he would have the temper of a lion, so he gave him teeth to match.

All throughout their childhood Raph would growl, bite, and sometimes even hiss when he was upset or scared. The brothers would call it his “ Feral Mode”.

.. and Mikey was poking the lion like a laughing baboon with a death wish..

“ SHUT UP, MIKEY. “ Raph warned. 

Leo’s posture straightened at the sound of Raph’s growing anger. 

He was unsure as to why the current conversation was causing Raph to get so.. TENSE.. Thanks to his lessons with Sensei, Raphael had actually made lots of progress with his temper. 

..So what’s happening now??

Out of all the brothers, Raph and Leo would fight the most growing up.. So he knew when Raph had reached his breaking point.

… and he was nearly there.

“ Mikey, lay off. We get your point, now drop it. “ Leo was trying with all his might to protect any survivors from the imminent eruption of flame and seething anger about to go off. 

Mikey chose to continue poking, shrugging off Leo’s warning.

“ Nahhhh he’s the tough big brother! Only babies fear things. Right, Raph? Isn’t that what you said to me when we were kids? “ 

Mikey’s voice was only seeped with innocent instigation. There was no poison on his tongue. Not a word was meant to truly HURT. Just.. a little payback now and then was rare. So you take it when you can get it. Afterall, his brothers and him would always tease each other. It never really caused bad blood. Perhaps a playful wrestling match on the ground, but nothing else.

Raph’s hands began to shake.

Mikey didn’t notice.

BUT DON DID.

It all clicked in his brain as to what was happening in his twin’s mind. The same awful memories blazed in his own, like a forest fire fueled by fear. 

Flashes of being chained to the hard floor blinked in and out. The sight of his twin.. being strapped down to a table. 

The eerie glow of green, painful liquid filling his veins-

- the screaming-

Don blinked. He shook his head to rid it of the horrid visions attempting to alter his reality. That’s all bad dreams were.. Just fantasies. Fantasies can’t hurt you.

… But Don knew. He knew what happened to them wasn’t just the bad dreams he was plagued with every time he tried to sleep. 

It was real.

It happened.

He was there in that lab. And so was Raph.

He knew he needed to act fast.

Don’s gaze shot to his unknowing little brother with far more threat than he would’ve liked it to. He walked to the side of Mikey, gripping the youngest’s shoulder with his hand.

“ Mikey..”

His youngest brother turned his head the tiniest bit, still with the same smile on his face. 

Raph turned his face away, as well as his body.

Don saw he wasn’t getting through to his ignorant little brother, so he turned him around using his tightening grip on the youngest’s shoulder.

“ -OW. Don! Ow- what?? “ Mikey nearly shouted, pulling away from Don’s vice of a grip. 

He didn’t mean to hurt Mikey. But that’s what you get when you don’t listen. At least now he’s paying attention.

“ Mikey, please, that’s enough. “ Don stated quickly.

The seriousness in his older brother’s tone mixed with the unrelenting gaze of his eyes, made Mikey instantly question his methods of said payback. His eyes fell to being full of remorse as he gave Don a “ What did I do wrong? “ kind of look.

Don disconnected his gaze on Mikey and walked to go join Raph. Before he reached his twin, he turned around and signed to Mikey,

‘ Mistake. None. Knowledge. No. Raph. Fine. ‘

( You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t know. Raph will be fine. )

Don stopped in front of Raph, and deliberately made it so Leo or Mikey couldn’t tell what he was saying.

Leo noticed how Don didn’t immediately touch Raph, but withheld until after he spoke something. Raph nodded minutely and the two walked out of the Med Bay, Don’s hands guiding his twin’s body out the door.

Mikey barely caught it, but he knew he could see Raph wipe something from his face.

‘ There’s no way.. ‘ Mikey thought. ' What- what did I do to him? ‘

Mikey turned to face Leo, with eyes beginning to fill with tears. 

“ Did…” Mikey squeaked, barely holding his composure; His breaking voice failing to hide his shame, 

 “ .. did I do that to him? “

Leo looked at his youngest brother with just as many questions on his face. His eyes softened as he gave a weak smile.

“.. I don’t….I don’t think so, Mikey. I.. I don’t know what that was about either. “

Leo’s voice overflowed with concern for his brothers. So much had happened in the past 6 days.. So many horrible things.. 

And like the good leader and oldest brother he was supposed to be, he left his brothers to suffer.

ALONE.

Well.. that was fun. :) Enjoy!

To God be the glory!

Masterpost <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[aria-ashryver]

heyoooo it's ur friendly local biohazard, just having a quick health check in under the cut!

(don't listen to my lies when i say "quick", it's never quick haha)

look at me being all worried about being late to see my doctor when he's away on vacation anyway and I had to chat with a different oncologist lol

So! I haven't really done any ✨Kicking Caesar's Kneecaps✨ chats in a while, so this is me just checking in!

So far my chemo journey has gone

3 months of weekly chemotherapy and hormone antibody treatments

1 month off (bc of peripheral neuropathy damage)

restarting the chemo regime at a 25% lower dose, with the expectation that I'll be needing an additional 3 months (today would mark one month since I restarted!)

BUT HEYYYY guess who has two thumbs that don't work anymore and an increased sensitivity to peripheral neuropathy!!!

(dark humour is dark?)

ok, it's not quite that bad yet. Yet being the operative word unfortunately.

For those who don't know, chemotherapy can effect the peripheral nerves in your body -- for some people, this means damage to nerves in the hands/feet/wrists/arms that can sometimes be permanent.

Not everyone gets nerve damage, and some get it worse than others.

I just so happen to be one of those lucky chumps with sensitive nerves!! While the month long break from chemo certainly helped reduce the intensity, the nerve damage in my hands is definitely spreading again.

What was initially just a bit of numbness/tingliness in the tip of my right thumb has since progressed into;

constant numbness/tingling sensations in my right thumb down to the heel of my thumb

static sensations across both palms and all of my fingers (which fortunately comes and goes)

occasional shooting nerve pain up my right arm, all the way from palm to armpit

extreme nerve sensitivity when I bend both of my wrists

tendon pain in both hands if i overexert myself

which is all kinds of not fun! And also goes a ways to explain why it's so damn hard for me to write at the moment! lol.

The doctors have therefore made a decision to pause my chemo for another two weeks, which is good in the sense that they are hopeful the break will halt some of the progressing nerve damage, but also lowkey infuriating because I would really like to get off this goddamn ride, you know?

Depending on how things go, my treatment plan might need to be changed again, so that I am getting less chemotherapy every week over a long period of weeks

which, like... 😑🙃🙃🙃🙃

...i just wanna be done with this, you know??

in happier news, all the other symptoms are calming down a little bit -- I haven't needed any anti-nausea meds in a few weeks, I'm not getting as many nosebleeds, the muscle pain and spasms seem to have stopped, I'm a little less fatigued -- there's still a whole host of shit going wrong, don't get me wrong, chemo still absolutely SUCKS ASS, but I'm really grateful that I've been able to get a decent nights sleep for the first time in months this past week 🥰💖

I also needed to get some urgent scans last week (I had some weird symptoms I'd never seen before and they were worried about potential fluid retention in my heart -- heart damage is the other big-concerning-possibly-permanent-damage thing chemo can bring about), but as it turns out, my body was just being a little bitch and my heart scans look good!!

i guess the tl;dr of this whole thing is just chemo blows and my hands are broken, but my heart isn't which is great, my sprit isn't, which is also great, and overall I'm feeling a hell of a lot better this week, despite being annoyed at the fact that I might have to do chemo for longer than i expected

here, have a sign I happened across on my walk to get a blood test yesterday. fitting, no?

if you are here reading this, i'm wishing you light and joy and love 🌻

[bettsfic]

Betts, I’m having a really hard time writing my fic. It’s incredibly long which doesn’t help but even updating the next chapter feels impossible. I’m so amazed—not only by how often you’re able to update, but by the sheer quality of your writing. I have a tendency to get too flowery and incoherent, so I’m scared to rush. But this unfortunately means I update every few months. All of my readers have virtually abandoned my story and I can’t blame them. Can I get some advice on how you’ve built the skills needed to update fast with good writing? Any suggestions you might have?

i can't remember if i've talked about this yet, but i was on a med to help with my sensory issues and it really, really fucked with me. and even though i was like, twitching a lot and had restless legs and fatigue, i stayed on it because it was doing what it set out to do: light and sound didn't bother me at all (i didn't even need to put on headphones when the lawn was mowed), and i wasn't snappish and mean like i get sometimes when i'm not masking. i was able to do everything i needed to do in a day with ease, without even making a detailed to do list (a thing i've done nearly every day since i was 18). i could make difficult phone calls. i could change my routine at a moment's notice or go somewhere when i felt like it without having to gear up for it. in other words, it had taken away a lot of my autism symptoms. for six months it was like someone else was living in my body. someone it turns out i didn't like at all.

i wasn't writing. i couldn't write. normally my brain is so full of words, if i don't get them down it can sometimes become physically painful. i've suspected for a long time i have hypergraphia, because the words don't even have to be coherent, they just have to be out. before i started writing fiction, i wrote a lot of flat-out nonsense. when i was a teenager, i kept long-running notebooks with friends. i was on AIM all the time. i religiously journaled and kept a blog detailing my daily life. and then when texting became a thing, my life got immeasurably better. i have always, always preferred writing to speaking, and i feel like i can't actually know a person until i've read their writing. i remember when i first got an email address and my dad sent me an email, i was like, ah! i can finally see you! and you're way weirder than i thought!

anyway it took a long time but eventually i found fanfic and now everyone who's ever known me can breathe a lot easier since i'm no longer texting them a million times a day with totally banal thoughts.

which is all to say, when i was on that med, my brain was utterly silent. it was terrifying. it felt like i'd had a major piece of me cut off and there was a time i was honestly so scared i'd never write again, that whatever spark i had was gone. i was so bored i contemplated going out, like actually leaving my house, for fun, and i was like, oh so this is why people do things.

because there were no words happening, when i did sit down to write (which was the one thing i still had to schedule, the opposite of how it usually is, and by that i mean i'm writing all the time by default and have to schedule everything else like eating and running errands), it was tedious, because i had to make them up on the spot instead of them just being there. it's the difference between buying apples and picking them yourself. when you buy them, there's a whole little mountain to choose from. you don't have to take a single step. but picking them yourself, you've gotta go out and find them, and it takes a lot longer.

there were other things i couldn't do either, like conflict and scene crafting. i couldn't really see the future of a given story, whereas before, i didn't even have to think about it. it was just all there waiting for me and all i had to do was put it on the page.

of course, there is a horrific downside to this, and that is that i'm virtually unfunctional in day to day life while i'm in the process of writing something. that's why i love residencies so much. they're made specifically for people with maladaptive behaviors like mine, like, here's a room, here's a desk, here's a hundred bucks for groceries, have at it.

i signed my apartment lease in april and i still haven't unpacked. some days i sit down at my desk at 10am and i blink and it's 2am and i don't know what happened, but i have 10k new words that i had absolutely no control over creating. thankfully i've developed good habits to make sure i get all the work done i have to get done, but it's always a struggle and honestly i can't see myself ever being able to work a full-time job again, unless i go back on that awful med.

the point is, for six months i wasn't writing, and because i wasn't writing i fell into a very deep depression. coupled with the fact nothing was in my brain, i wasn't talking much to anyone, wasn't engaging much online, wasn't reading, wasn't cooking, wasn't cleaning. all i could do was sleep and watch youtube videos. the highlight of my day was my coaching calls and the work i was doing for ofic, where i could feel a little like myself again.

as you can see from this very long post, i got taken off that med and put on a new one that's rendered me once more a ball of words and nothing else. my psychiatrist, bless her, didn't even question me when i said i preferred to be an obsessive maladaptive daydreamer who doesn't live in reality than...whatever i'd turned into. a task-doer i guess. i think what i'm going through now, the 200k in a few months thing, is all the build-up of being on that med.

anyway, everyone's brain is different and therefore their relationship and approach to writing is different. i think we have far less control over these things than we think. or at least i do. i certainly know some ass-in-chair 8am writers for whom writing is genuinely work like any other, and they have daily word goals and once they hit them they go outside and run a marathon or whatever.

other than those few people, i don't think any writer is happy with the pace at which they write. i would love to have the patience you do to get flowery with my writing, but my sentences have always been spare and simple. i've learned to make that work to my advantage i think, but it still remains: i am never going to be a writer of pretty things. and that made me sad for a long time, but it also makes me appreciate a beautiful, complex sentence so much more, because it's something i can't really do.

i don't think writing slow is a weakness and i don't think writing fast is a strength. our minds move at the pace they move and there's not much we can do about it. i think a lot about a girl i used to know in the MFA who wrote microfiction, and her daily word count goal was six. six words. i think about donna tartt, one of my favorite authors, and how she's published one book a decade, three books in a career. and i also think about those writers who churn out book after book after book and even if they're good quality, they're all kind of the same, and that's because writing speed is directly related to the speed at which you make decisions. if you're always falling back on the same story structures, sentence structures, scene pacing, and character archetypes, yeah, you can write pretty fast. writing, at its simplest, is deciding what word comes next, over and over and over again. and so i write fic fast because my writing style is just my inner monologue, the characters are already established, and in terms of plot all i really have to do is figure out the happily ever after.

but it also took me 3 years to write my short story collection. i have novels i've been working on for 5 or 6 years now. i have hundreds of thousands of words of prose in various WIPs that will have to be completely rewritten because of how sloppy they are and how they don't get the work done i want them to be doing. so i definitely understand what it is to write slow, and how frustrating it can be when you're just eager to be finished.

i'm sorry your readers have abandoned your story and i'm sorry i don't have more practical advice for you. my only real advice is to relish in the process and enjoy any minute you spend crafting a sentence you can be proud of.

[lysung]

happy first times - bang chan

you and bang chan's daughter comes back home from school earlier than expected and started acting weird, as if she's hiding something.

A/N: hi hi! sorry for being so inactive, uni had me messed up the whole year :( anyways. it's been quite some time since i wrote and posted anything in here, and i haven't been practicing english often either, i'm not sure if i'm doing anything right in here but i hope it's understandable and enjoyable 😭 also, i'm not sure how things work where you live, but at the elementary school where i studied, if you weren't feeling well, felt lots of pain or anything like this, and no one were home to get you back home, someone specific would drop you home. i wrote this based on this vague memory. you can pretend this happens where you live too if it doesn't lol and a fun fact: i've been struggling trying to pay attention to stuff that i wondered if my mind was still working properly, and after watching a clip of chan talking about periods, i was more than sure it was working very well 🥴. took the chance to write this.

genre: fluff

cw: overflowing cuteness, bang chan being the best man ever you'll ba your eyes out because you still can't believe someone this precious exist.

reader's gender is neutral! your daughter can be biological or adopted if you want to, all up to you! feel comfortable <3

this wasn't proofread because it's literally 6am when i'm posting this and maybe i didn't sleep at all just to finish this, but i'll try to remember to do so later today! pls tell me if you find any mistake too <3

hope you guys enjoy it! requests are open ✨

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

[09:50]

today is a sunny, fresh and bright day. bang chan, your husband, is taking some time off after his promotions were finally over. although you still had to go to work, today's the day when you're supposed to leave earlier. today just couldn't feel any better than this.

while waiting for you, chan was watching tv until he hears a noise coming from the front door. immediately he thought you would be home, but got confused as he saw your daughter coming in by herself.

- baby? what are you doing here this early? you're supposed to be at-

- iknow, i know. one of my teachers had to leave earlier today and she left me here, because you just wouldn't pick up your phone... — she cut him off with a sad and tired gaze, and chan instantly regretted leaving his phone so far from him earlier.

- ohhhh, i'm sorry so sorry my angeeel — he hugged her while carressing her hair, and she just responded with a quiet yet lovely "it's okay, dad" — but are you okay? what happened that you had to come back home this early?

- i just... don't feel good, my stomach aches way too much... but you don't have to worry, they just- they told me to take some medicine and rest for today — she explained, her voice crackling a bit, as if she was looking for the right words and was about to cry.

chan noticed her unusual behaviour and expressions. at first, he didn't intend to tell her about it or get mad, and just decided to pay extra attention for the rest of the day. as she distanced herself from him, he notices something else - the vivid red stain on her pants, on the inner side of her legs.

reality never hit him this hard. both of you were aware she was growing up, that's just how tome works, but once again, time felt like flying. as if watching her taking her first steps, saying her first words, making her first dawings and friends... everything felt like it hadn't been this long. every moment felt like a blessing. everything gives you two a specific feeling that probably no one will ever be able to put in perfect words.

chan felt his eyes tearing up as so many memories flashed one after another, finding himself at loss of words from the insane mix of feelings.

she turned to him to ask for something, just to find him with his head down, coverig his own face with one hand, sobbing quietly. the feeling of rgret instantly filled her up, as she was still confused and scared, fearing bad things to happen. she was so afraid and ashamed that she could barely tell or show it to anyone at school. but she calms down as she hears his words noticeably filled with love:

- my baby... i love you so much. but do you know what's happening to you now? — chan got closer to his precious daughter to hold her face with his hands and stare deeply into her eyes.

- ah, n-no... it's nothing bad, right? everything is gonna be fine, right? — she asked, fear still clear on her eyes and voice.

- no, it's nothing bad. you're just growing up and this is completely normal for you. i'll grab you a cup of warm water, sit down and i'll tell you everything i know about it. but relax, you're fine, baby. — he calmed her down while trying to control his proud smile, and ended with a kiss on her forehead before leaving, taking a little longer as expected to get a bag of warm water as well.

sat down next to each other, she drank her water calmly as she listened to her dad. she always knew how understanding chan can be, but this sudden situation made every kind of thought come to her head to the point nothing from the outside world would get in or make sense to her. yet, each and every word that came out of him would tranquilize her more and more. he felt like heaven to her, and she couldn't feel any more safer and happier with her precious dad.

while she showered and changed, chan left to buy meds and chocolate, hoping it would make her feel at least a little bit better. he spent the next few hours taking care of her as much as possible - making hot chocolate for her, listening to everything she wanted to say, watching her favorite series with her, massaging her wherever it hurted, trying his best to make her feel as comfortable as possible.

- honey, i'm home! — you announced happily after a long and exausting day. work felt endless and you couldn't wait to eat a little bit and sleep a little more. you were about to say something more, until you found the loves of your life sleeping next to each other on your sofabed, a movie playing on the tv, mugs on the tables next to them - a cute, calm smile on your sleeping daughter's face.

you went to the kitchen to grab water and noticed a paper on the table, which said "don't be scared, she's growing up faster than we thought and had her period at school today. she's fine! sorry for not telling you earlier. love you!"

you watched them sleep a little bit more. it was the best view you could have - your incredible and beautiful family. the moment also made you tear up a little bit, but it didn't take long for you to hold it and lay with them. it was unfortunate that you couldn't take care of your daughter as well, but there was nothing to worry or feel upset about. you knew both you and your daughter would be safe and sound if you have bang chan - the best friend, husband, dad and person.

you two couldn't love him any more than this.

[bex-la-get]

Take Care of You (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack

Special Appearance: Tobias Carrick

Word count: 2175

Summary: When Ethan falls sick, Nat steps in to take care of him.

Rating: T

Author’s Note: Hi, hello. It’s been a crappy week and I’m emotionally/physically exhausted. So here’s some fluff to counter the bad week. This is unedited, so please forgive any mistakes. Hope you like it. 💙

Ethan never got sick. Ever. Despite working in a hospital, surrounded by sick people on a daily basis, Ethan always managed to stay as healthy as possible. He had prided himself on his strong immune system and seemingly inability to fall ill.

Until today, that is. He woke with so much pressure in his sinuses, he thought his head would burst. Getting out of bed was a feat in itself, as his whole body ached. He sniffled as he made his way to the bathroom and nearly jumped at his own reflection: his eyes were puffy, his nose was red, and his posture was significantly slouched. He tried to stand up straight but only groaned as his body protested the movement. Today was going to be long. 

Pushing through, he swallowed a couple of DayQuils with his morning coffee, stuffed some tissues into his pocket, and gave Jenner a pat on the head before sluggishly making his way to work. 

Arriving at the hospital, he noticed the looks of surprise and concern that people gave him as he passed. He didn’t know why; it was just a little cold. It wasn’t like he had grown a second head. He rolled his eyes and continued towards the seventh floor, ignoring everyone he walked past. 

Finally arriving in the Diagnostics Office, he found himself breathing heavier than normal. As he sat at his desk, he attempted to take a deep breath but instead triggered a coughing fit. He grabbed a nearby Kleenex and coughed hard, his body wracking with the movement. He took a deep breath and coughed one last time before his lungs took pity on him and stopped causing him distress. Ethan groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 

“Ethan? You okay, man?” a voice said.

Ethan looked up to find Tobias looking at him with concern. He hadn’t even heard his old friend come in. He nodded and sighed. “Yeah; just a little under the weather today, is all.”

“If you’re not feeling well, you should probably go home,” Tobias suggested. “There’s no point in pushing yourself to further exhaustion.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’m fine; I just need the DayQuil to kick in.”

Tobias pursed his lips then clicked his tongue. “If you say so; Nat’s not gonna be happy to see you like this though.”

“See who like what?” the aforementioned doctor asked as she walked into the room. Natalie looked to Tobias first then Ethan, her eyes widening. “Woah, are you okay?” She quickly made her way over to Ethan and rested the back of her hand to his forehead. 

He weakly brushed her hand away. “I’m fine, Nat. Just a little under the weather.”

“I’d say more than a little; you look terrible!” She exclaimed. He frowned and she gave him a small smile. “Sorry babe, but it’s true.”

“I also walked in on him having a serious coughing fit a moment ago,” Tobias said. Ethan glared at Tobias but the latter deliberately avoided eye contact with him, choosing to look at his phone instead.

Natalie gently placed her hand on Ethan’s cheek and turned his face towards her so she could look at him. He watched as her eyes scanned his face and knew she was trying to figure out how sick he really was. He both loved and hated how well she knew him sometimes. “You should go home, Ethan.”

“I’m fine,” he argued. “I already took some meds, they just need to kick in.”

She pulled out her stethoscope and pointed it at him threateningly. “Go home or I’ll admit you.”

Tobias coughed back a chuckle and Ethan raised an eyebrow. “You do remember I’m your boss, right?”

She nodded as she put the headset into her ears and placed the cold chestpiece against his chest, making him jump. “You’re my boss, my boyfriend, and now, my patient. Breathe in.”

“Nat, this is ridiculous--” he argued but stopped when she glared at him.

“Breathe. In.” she repeated. Shaking his head in reply, he did as she said and found taking a breath was difficult. He fought the cough he could feel bubbling up but to no avail; thankfully, however, this cough was not nearly as violent as the last one. Nat pulled the chestpiece away and nodded. “Yeah, you’re a mess. You’re going home.” He opened his mouth to protest but she held up her hand. “Don’t argue with me on this. You’re in no state to work, let alone be around other sick patients.” 

She pulled out a prescription pad, scribbled something down then turned to Tobias and handed it to him. “Tobias, can you send this down to the pharmacy so they can get it filled? I’ll pick it up when it’s ready.”

He nodded and took the form. “Sure thing.” He turned to Ethan and smiled sympathetically. “Get better soon, Ethan. Nat’s not as fun to be around when she’s in charge.”

Natalie rolled her eyes and smirked as Tobias made his way out of the office. She turned back to Ethan and softened her gaze as he frowned and sniffled. She caressed his cheek with her hand. “I love you.”

His frown shifted to a small smile. “I love you too.” He sneezed.

“You see why I’m sending you home, right?”

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah; I do. I hate being sick. I always feel so useless.”

“You are still human, my love; and humans get sick from time to time. It’s normal.” She crouched in front of him and took his hands in hers. “I’ll come over after my shift and make you some soup, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that--” he weakly protested.

She shook her head. “I want to; let me take care of you, baby. Please.”

Sighing, he nodded and stood, bringing Natalie up with him. He reached for her but hesitated as he didn’t want to make her ill. She smiled at him and stood on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

He nodded. Sighing, he left the hospital and made his way home, his head in a fog for most of the journey. After safely arriving home, he changed into some more comfortable clothing, with the intention of getting some work done on his laptop; but the bed looked just so inviting. I guess I could lay down for a few minutes, he thought. Gently, he laid on the bed and closed his eyes. Five minutes is all I need. Within seconds, his body relaxed and he began to emit quiet snores, work completely forgotten.

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

Several Hours Later

Ethan woke to the muffled sounds of the television and someone shuffling around in his kitchen. He groaned and got out of bed, padding his way to the source of the noise. As he exited the bedroom, he was greeted with the various sights of onion, tomato, and meat that were cooking on the stovetop. Unfortunately, due to his stuffed sinuses, he could barely smell anything but he presumed it was heavenly.

“Hi,” a voice said. He turned his attention to the source and smiled as Natalie approached him, throwing a hand towel over her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” he replied, truthfully.

She gently brought his forehead to her lips as she judged his temperature. She hummed as she pulled away. “You’re warm.” She turned around and grabbed a small box out of her purse then handed it to him. He looked it over appraisingly, realizing this must be the prescription Nat wrote out earlier. “Take one of these now; it should lower your fever and help you feel better. Go get comfortable, the soup will be ready soon.”

“You didn’t have to do all this, Nat,” he began.

“Of course I did,” she said, cutting him off. She rested a gentle hand on his back and guided him towards the sofa. “Now, relax and get comfy. I’m almost done.”

Ethan did as she said, plopping down on the couch. He opened the prescription box and took the prescribed medication as Jenner trotted over and rested his head in his master’s lap. Ethan patted the pup’s head soothingly, giving him a tired smile. “Has she been giving you orders today, too?” he asked.

“Unlike you, Jenner is a spectacular patient,” Nat answered from the kitchen. “He’s been very good and even earned himself a few treats for being so good.”

“Did you, now?” Ethan mused, looking down at Jenner. The pup, none the wiser to the conversation happening about him, simply wagged his tail and gave his best doggy smile to his owner. Ethan chuckled. “Good dog.”

Taking the remote, he flipped to the Classic Film channel and sunk lower onto the couch. He felt his body begin to shiver and grabbed the nearby throw blanket, covering himself with it. “God, this is awful. I hate being sick.”

“I know, my love,” Nat soothed. “But the meds I gave you should help. They just need time to kick in. And,” she walked over and placed a bowl of hot soup in front of him on the coffee table, “this should help too. It’s an old family recipe of Dani’s. It works wonders.”

“Speaking from experience?” he asked, leaning over, letting the steam from the hot bowl wash over his face. 

Nat nodded. “Yep. Both Dani and I got the flu within a week of each other when we were still living together. She made this soup for us and we both felt better almost immediately. I’m convinced it’s got magic powers.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.” He pulled the coffee table a little closer to the couch and smiled at Nat. “Thank you for making this.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, returning his smile. “Now, eat. I’ll be right there.”

Lacking the energy to argue, he did as she said, bringing a spoonful of the hot soup to his lips. Within minutes, Ethan felt the hot liquid warm up his body, which had been starting to feel cold. Nat smiled as she joined him with her own bowl, nodding in approval as he steadily ate. 

Nat filled him in on what he missed at work while they ate, which hadn’t been much, thankfully. Their new patient wouldn’t be admitted for another week so the team had just done some prep and research today but nothing else beyond that. Ethan asked a few questions as Nat explained but otherwise, remained quiet through their conversation. Nat raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “You’re being unusually cooperative. What’s the matter?”

He chuckled and placed his near empty bowl on the coffee table. “Nothing. I’m just feeling a little drained, is all.”

“Mm, I’m not surprised. When you get sick, it hits you like a freight train.”

He frowned. “Thanks.”

Nat chuckled and settled deeper into the couch. She opened her arms and gestured towards herself with her fingers. “C’mere.”

Needing no further invitation, Ethan maneuvered himself into Nat’s embrace, covering them both with the throw blanket he had still been wearing. As he relaxed in her arms, he wondered aloud, “Aren’t you worried about getting sick?”

She hummed. “Nah. But even if I was, it wouldn’t stop me from being here.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I would take care of you, anytime.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you, Nat. You’re too good for me.”

“No, I’m not,” she replied, smiling. “We’re just the right amount of good for each other.” She kissed his head. “Can I get you anything else?”

He shook his head, tightening his hold around her midsection. “No. Just you.”

“I’m right here,” Nat reassured. 

“Love you,” Ethan murmured, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you too. Now, rest.” She gently leaned over and took the remote from the coffee table.

“Don’t watch the next episode of Bake Off without me,” Ethan said, his voice drowsy.

Nat chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare. When you’re feeling better, we’ll pick up where we left off.” When he didn’t respond, she glanced down to find that Ethan had fallen asleep. Smiling to herself, she turned on an old favorite film of hers and watched, while running her fingers up and down Ethan’s back. 

It would be a few more days before Ethan was back in top shape; but Nat took care of him the entire time. From bringing him food to ensuring he rested instead of working, Nat took better care of Ethan than he had ever done himself when he had been sick in the past. He’d never been so well taken care of before, and it made him all the more grateful to have her in his life. He’d always hoped she’d take over the DT for him one day; and after the way she cared for him, he knew the team would be in the best possible hands. And so would he.

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[utterlyinevitable]

Hi! I really like your fics! Especially 'The Conference'. I have a fic request: Ethan x MC revealed to only the gang - not the whole hospital. It's totally fine if you don't do it! Thanks for considering my request! 💞

Sorry for taking a million years to get to this. Also sorry that it’s trash ♥

Telling Friends

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Summary: It’s sometime after the toxin incident and Becca tells her roommates about her budding relationship. Though one of them has some issues with it... Trope: Fluff, People Find Out About Them; Platonic Gang 

________________________________________

Becca walked carefully into her apartment, immediately greeted by the sweet aroma of chocolate chip muffins and the sight of two of her roommates on their hideous, thrifted yellow couch that makes this place a home.

“Oh, good. You’re all here,” She sighed with a contented smile as she kicked off her shoes.

“Think we should be more shocked you’re here,” Jackie retorted, barely looking up from her phone.

Normally Becca would roll her eyes or respond with something snarky, but not today. Today the roommates had something to talk about; all of which revolved around why she’s barely been home lately.  

“Where’ve you been?” Elijah added, the whites of his teeth sparkling in the midday sunshine peering through the window.

“And in yesterday’s clothes,” Jackie followed up. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” 

Becca dropped her bag and coat by the door before bounding across the room to take her place on the sofa between her two friends. 

“There’s something you guys should know. And I need you to keep it secret.” She glared pointedly at Jackie. 

“Did you pull a heist without us?”  

Elijah added, “Yeah because if so, no, I will never forgive you.” 

“No. I would never. It’s just…” Becca trailed, moving to settle further into the cushions. She took a deep readying breath. Exhaled. And continued; “Really sensitive and important, and I don’t want to do anything to screw it up. But I also don’t want to keep sneaking around…” 

“Are you back with Raf?” Jackie questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Since he kind of imploded his life for you?” 

After the incident, Rafael Aviero broke things off with his childhood sweetheart because of the lingering feelings he still harbored for her. Now he wasn’t moving away, he didn’t have Sora, and he didn’t have... 

“Um… no,” Becca responded, looking down at the cushion. 

Before her guilt could set in fully, the room erupted in a high-pitched, delighted squeal. 

“Oh my god!” Sienna rounded the kitchen island quickly, her battered hands clasping around the wooden spoon, “Really!?” 

“What?” Jackie asked at the same time Elijah questioned, “What’re we missing?” 

The two girls locked eyes and Becca made the slightest of confirming motions. 

Becca took a deep inhale, eyes never leaving Sienna’s. The absolute delight in her best friend’s dark eyes were giving her all the courage she needed. “I’ve been spending a lot of time at Ethan’s. We’ve been dating for a while.” 

“Since when?” 

“The memorial, basically.” 

“Shit,” Jackie lamented. “I’m happy for you, Bec. But damn” - a coy smirk appeared on her lips - “No wonder that guy’s been friendlier than usual.” 

“Finally!” Elijah exclaimed in a rush of air, like it was a breath he’s been holding in for far too long. All three pairs of eyes were on him. “Sienna and I caught Dr. Ramsey leaving the morning after her hearing.” 

Jackie’s jaw dropped past the floor and into the basement. 

The rest of the gang brought her up to speed on how that ended up happening and how no one knew Ramsey slept over, and of course the unfortunate ending to that tale.  

“How’s that going to work?” 

“Strictly professional at the hospital.” Becca affirmed the sentiment with a flippant wave of her hands and the smallest of smiles. “Nothing’s going to change.” 

“Except for how soft he is around you.” 

“He’s not soft on me. If anything he’s harsher with me because of our relationship.” 

The roommates talked more about the logistics of her relationship and how often Ethan will be staying over. Jackie set some ground rules for that, to which Becca rolled her eyes and agreed they would never ever have sex anywhere other than her bedroom when in the apartment. 

When the conversation waned Becca asked; 

“I was thinking about inviting him to Thanksgiving. Unless that’d be weird?” 

Elijah chuckled, “It’ll definitely be weird.”

Sienna waved him off and grabbed her friend’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’d be happy to have him, Becca.” 

The two girls shared a moment. It wasn’t a question that Sienna was overjoyed at Becca’s happiness - this was everything they’ve been dreaming about happening since early intern year. Though there was something quite bittersweet - Becca got a second chance with Ethan, while Sienna will never know what could have been. In their tightened grip neither could forget Danny. 

Becca’s lips parted, about to whisper condolences and affirmations that things are going to get better. But Elijah spoke first;  

“Getting to know Dr. Ramsey will be a real treat. Think he’d be down to watch the MCU in succession?”

As she turned towards him a broad smile took over Becca’s features. “As long as there’s scotch I’m sure he’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t believe you’ve been sneaking around with him.” Jackie lamented once more.  

“What’s Dr. Ramsey even like outside the hospital? He doesn’t seem like fun.” 

“Ethan’s a lot -” 

Aurora emerged, cutting Becca off with a disbelieving, “You’re dating Dr. Ramsey?”  

Something in her new friend’s tone threw Becca off kilter. So much so she threw up walls as quick and high as could be, ready to defend defend defend. She was afraid of her friends not taking to the news and Aurora’s tone really confirmed Becca’s worst fears. 

“Uh, yeah,” was all she could respond. 

“Gross. I’m happy for you but... gross. Are we forgetting he dated my aunt for years?” 

“Oh shit. Yeah,” Elijah muttered from the sidelines.  

Quickly Becca added, “They were never serious.” 

She was going to say ‘in love’ but thought better of it. She loves him dearly and knows he feels the same way, but they haven’t said it yet. The first time she uses that word next to his name it should be to him and him alone.  

The retort was swift and icy, “Are you?” 

Aurora didn’t anticipate the answer, she knew her friend and thought this was just another one of her impulses. Becca had a tendency to bounce from interest to interest, heart to heart; and after everything that’s happened recently maybe she’s just finding comfort in the man who kept her alive. 

Both sets of deep coffee-colored eyes met, both Aurora and Becca’s features schooled so stoic and unwavering in their position. A simple “Yes” dancing off Becca’s tongue. The word accompanied by the splendid thought that Ethan Ramsey was hers. 

Aurora Emery didn’t miss the tug of a smile tugging at the corners of Becca’s mouth.  

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll support you, but this is weird as fuck.”

***

Later that evening Aurora was in her room, sitting on her bed with a textbook in her lap. A knock sounded from her ajar door, and not a few seconds later Becca’s head peeked through the crack.  

“Hey, can we talk?” 

Aurora shut the book. “I think we need to.” 

She shifted on the bed to make room at the foot among all her papers. 

Once settled, sitting cross-legged, Becca broke the small flits of tension. “I’m sorry this is weird for you.” 

“Thanks.” Aurora forced a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sorry about the outburst. I don’t know enough about your relationship to comment.” 

“I don’t know enough about their relationship,” Becca admitted shyly. She fiddled with her hands in her lap. “Ethan doesn’t really talk about it. Just that he appreciates and respects the fuck out of Dr. Emery.” 

“Aunt Harper didn’t talk about it either. All I know is what I’ve overheard and saw. They go way back - I remember them together before I got into med school.” 

They let that sink in for a moment. Becca chewed on her lip as she mindfully ran through the semi-apparent timeline. “So this is weird,” she stated. 

“Really weird,” Aurora agreed with a chortle.   

Some more time passed by on a pause. The two amicably working through this oddity in their lives. Both their thoughts taking them in many directions. Though Becca’s moving further and further into territory she knew Ethan never wanted to wander back through. 

“Was he around a lot?” she finally asked in the smallest of voices. 

If Aurora picked up on her friend’s insecurity she didn’t make it apparent.  

“Sometimes,” she began. “He’d spend some holidays and milestones with the family. I don’t think he ever enjoyed it. A bunch of doctors eating and drinking all the time, everyone knows how much he hates spending time with colleagues.” Aurora tried to brush the last remark off as a joke to lighten the mood. 

She could see the ghost of a smile hanging on Becca’s lips.  

“He went for her.” It wasn’t a question  

Aurora simply nodded. 

“He’s a good guy,” Becca sighed. She looked up at Aurora with the most lovestruck look the young Emery has ever encountered. Right then and there she knew that this certainly was not one of her friend’s whims. It was, and had, the power of a whole new universe. 

“What the two of you see in him I’ll never know,” Aurora scoffed in feigned mockery. 

Becca was just about to comment - to say just how much of a different man Ethan was to Dr. Ramsey - when Aurora added; 

“But you shouldn’t worry about me, you should probably talk to Bryce.” 

Becca’s eyes went wide and her jaw stiffened. 

If anyone was going to address the other blatantly obvious elephant in the friend group, Aurora realized, it had to be her. Might as well kill two birds with one stone whilst they buried the hatchet. 

“We all know you’ve been hooking up for a while.” 

If words could kill Aurora was certain she just decapitated Becca. The poor girl went stark and ghostly. It was as if she hadn’t even considered telling her booty call she’s seeing someone else. 

Aurora trailed, “I don’t know exactly what went down but...” 

Neither wanted her to break Bryce Lahela’s heart.   

___________________

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations 

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[hopelessromanticvirgo]

Sincerely, Always Yours

Chapter 27 Part 1

Chapter 26

“Don’t cry.”

“Don’t cry.”

“Don’t cry.”

Robbe keeps repeating it in his head but his body betrays him.

He feels his eyes getting blurry and he curses himself.

He curses himself for being this week.

He lights up the cigarette and takes a big inhale out of it.

It’s past midnight, already year 2021.

He was doing quite alright when he got back to Milan’s even if she was there, circling around Sander like he was her toy and only entertainment.

Robbe also didn’t leave his side so in the end Sander was stuck between Robbe and Britt every damn second.

One time he had to go to the bathroom and Robbe almost followed him inside.

So pathetic and embarrassing.

And Sander was trying his best to be with Robbe, for a second he even thought that he was trying to get rid of Britt and be with him instead but of course it wasn’t true at all.

Robbe was alright until just 30min ago when the countdown for new year started.

And that bitch had the audacity to kiss his Sander right in front of his face, make him bend his head a little bit by pulling his sweater down, crashing their lips together as the others screamed “one” and Robbe wanted to say that Sander didn’t kiss back but unfortunately, that would be a total lie.

Jens tried to make him feel better by whispering “don’t worry, you will be kissing him at midnight next year” in his ear but it didn’t help Robbe at all.

And here he was, on the balcony, sitting down on the old piece of stars Milan kept there for sitting and Robbe has no idea why, smoking a cigarette, fresh tears getting ready to fall down on his cheeks.

“Fuck.” He whispered and closed his eyes, which automatically made his tears fall.

“Don’t cry.” He keeps whispering over and over again, putting out the cigarette, hugging his knees, putting his head down between them.

He wants to go home so desperately, he doesn’t care if he will be alone or not in there, at least he won’t worry about anybody seeing him cry on the new year’s party which is filled with his friends.

His friends and her.

His friends, his Sander and her.

Robbe knows that he tries to be with him, so he can’t really blame Sander at all.

In fact, Jens was right. Sander just found out that she was also going to come.

And that means that Robbe has nobody to blame.

Nobody but Jana and the fucking universe which was hardcore laughing at him right now.

He knew it would be like this the moment Jens told him that she was there with Sander.

He’s so tired of seeing her hands going up and down on his body, touching him every time she wants to, with no problem, like it’s normal and Robbe desperately wants to be her. A person who can just hug Sander whenever they want to, kiss him, snuggle into his touch and nobody will look at him weirdly.

He really wants to.

But like some cruel person or world or anybody already decided, Robbe doesn’t deserve good things in life, and he especially doesn’t deserve someone like Sander, but in his defense, Britt doesn’t deserve him too.

“Robbe?” And like he felt that the boy was thinking about him, Sander walked on the balcony.

“There you are. I have been looking for you.” Before he managed to get close to the weeping loner, Robbe quickly wiped his tears away and no matter how much his heart warmed up because Sander came here to look for him, he really preferred to be alone right now.

He sat down next to him, Robbe nodded his head, acknowledging his presence but didn’t say anything else.

“Hey. Look at me.” Sander said and it took everything for Robbe not to burst out in tears right there and then again.

Sander put his hand on his shoulder and made him turn around towards him and that’s when Robbe looked up and thought “fuck, he’s so pretty” in his head like every time he does when they are together.

It was dark out, only street lights lighting up the balcony and of course there was some light coming from the room, from at the apartment but they were sitting a little away from the balcony door so they couldn’t see each other that well but even if Sander’s figure and face wasn’t as clear as they would be in the daylight, he still was the most beautiful man in the world that Robbe’s ever seen.

“Talk to me.” He said with his usual soft voice and that’s when Robbe realized how close they were sitting next to each other.

But Robbe couldn’t say a word, he knew he’d break immediately. And also, what was he suppose to say?

“Are those tears I see?” He heard the boy whispered now with pain in his voice and Robbe sniffed, couldn’t control his self and his emotions anymore.

And that’s what it took for Sander to realize that he was indeed in pain and seeing him sitting in the dark, with tears running down his cheeks was killing him.

“Come here, you silly goose.” He whispered and opened his arms, immediately Robbe was glued to his side, with Sander’s arm on his shoulder, keeping him close to his chest, Robbe being able to smell his perfume, which was coming from his neck.

That’s all it took for Robbe to completely break down, he was glad that the sounds coming from him was muffled in Sander’s sweater, he could hear the older boy whispering “shh, tell me what’s wrong” and other sweet things in his hair but he couldn’t answer, he could hardly breathe from the way he couldn’t stop crying.

He’s been holding everything inside for so long already and now it finally burst open.

“Don’t want to talk to me?” Sander tried again and sadly chuckled when he felt Robbe violently shaking his head.

“Seeing you hurt makes me sad Robin.” He whispered in his hair, his fingers running through his brown locks and the feeling made Robbe cry even harder.

“Fuck.”

“Control yourself.”

He tried to calm down his breathing but whenever he felt Sander’s fingers on his scalp, his crying was getting worse.

“Come on, Robbe. You’re alright now. I’m here. You can talk to me. But please stop crying now, I’m worried. It’s been long enough now. I was waiting for you to let it all out but please, you’re hurting me.”

And the last sentence was probably all it took since the moment the words left Sander’s mouth, Robbe looked up from his place on Sander’s chest and he gulped, only now noticing how close they were to each other and couldn’t help but blushed.

“There’s my pretty boy.” Sander smiled at him and Robbe felt like a toddler, like an older brother was taking care of him after his parents got mad at him from failing a math test, and he hated this feeling, and wanted to push away from Sander but couldn’t bring himself to. He doesn’t get this close to his body every day and now he couldn’t pull away until Sander would tell him to.

Can I stay here forever?

“You know that I won’t let you go until you tell me what’s wrong, right?”

Never let me go.

I’ve been holding so many secrets in my heart which are harder to hide than I thought, so please, don’t ever let me go. Keep me close to your body and I will stay right here silently, adoring you as long as you will want me.

Robbe had to lie. And he had to lie quickly, because he knew Sander, and he knew that the boy would never let this topic go.

“Hey. Look at me. Look at me.” Sander said when Robbe looked down at his knees, away from Sander’s face. And when Robbe didn’t move a muscle, he put both of his palms on his cheeks and made him look up.

“It’s - it’s a - uh - it’s -“ Robbe was looking anywhere but at his eyes, he felt so weak under his gaze, felt like all his feeling were on display for everyone and specifically Sander to see.

“Eyes up here, Robin.” He was still holding his face but unfortunately, couldn’t make his eyes stay still.

Robbe felt like he couldn’t breathe and for the first time ever, he didn’t know if it was a bad thing or a good thing.

Robbe looked up and pierced his eyes into Sander’s own.

Have I told you how petty your eyes are before?

It was dark but Robbe didn’t need any light to see, he knew each of Sander’s features by heart.

They were so close and without even realizing it, Robbe started to lean in, lost in his eyes, buried in his burning feelings.

Either Sander didn’t notice Robbe getting closer than usual to his face or he didn’t make a comment about it, which made Robbe want to try to go even further.

He was mesmerized and without even rethinking his actions, he got so close that their noses were touching and if Sander didn’t notice it before, now he had to since he literally looked down at Robbe before staring at his eyes again and that was the exact moment when Robbe, who was pulling his body closer and closer before, slipped on his shoe, lost his body control and balance and literally fell on Sander’s shoulder, pulling the boy backwards with him too, crashing into him more than he did before.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m tipsy.” He added quickly, wishing the ground would swallow him.

“It’s alright.” Sander smiled at him which warmed his heart and made him sure that everything was totally still okay between them.

He breathed out.

“I’m still waiting.”

Robbe knew that.

“It’s just my mom. I’m worried about her. She changed her medication and it’s not been that long since she started regularly taking them and now I’m worried and I’m not sure if her sister will keep up with her meds like I do and I - what if something bad happens because I’m not there with her and it will be my fault and I’m here, supposed to be having fun and -“ Robbe was talking fast, it was leaving the effect of being nervous, which he honestly was but in reality, he was talking fast because he didn’t know what to say.

He hates this.

He hates lying to Sander. (His mom was doing perfectly with her new medication and he was so happy because of that.)

He’s always hated it.

And he specifically hates it now because of how softly Sander is looking at him.

“You’re so precious.” Sander started and it made Robbe hate himself even more. “I’m sure she will be fine, Robbe. Nothing will happen, okay? And don’t even think about blaming yourself. Don’t even dare to blame yourself. You’re the most perfect son anybody could ask for. And I’m not just saying that, okay? You are. How can you not be?”

And Robbe feels like crying again.

“Thank you.” He means everything in those two words.

Thank you for being here.

Thank you for existing.

“Is my puppy feeling better now?” He smirked at him and raised his eyebrow and Robbe didn’t know if he wanted to punch him for making him feel this embarrassed and effected or to hug him from making him feel so soft and loved.

He nodded his head and was about to make a comment about how Sander needs to stop calling him by every living creature on this earth, teasingly, obviously loving the nicknames deep down in his heart, when somebody walked on the balcony and Robbe was sure, he’d fight that person and he almost shrieked when he saw a blonde hair but in the end, it was just Amber.

“Are you two having your own party out there? Come inside.” She quickly said and left as soon as she came out.

“Want to go back? We can stay here or go home if you want to.” Sander said calmly but Robbe shook his head, he wanted to go home but he still felt like he had to be here for at least a little bit more so they stood up and went inside.

This time Robbe was a little bit charged for the ‘’event’’ and lasted longer than he did, before he had to get alone to control himself again and hold his arms down so they wouldn’t rip any or Britt’s hair off.

* * *

It started as soon as they got back inside, with Britt hanging on his shoulders but Sander didn’t leave Robbe’s side, so in the end he was third wheeling those two together again while wishing he was dead, deep into the ground.

But when Sander was making sure that he was feeling alright from time to time, his heart couldn’t help but start beating faster every time he’d feel Sander’s fingers on his back, touching him quickly and disappearing again but it was enough for Robbe.

It was actually more than enough.

But this time the devil was here, and she wasn’t wearing Prada, instead she was wearing Sander’s body, literally.

Not even a second went when she’d let him go and get away from her sight.

Only exception was when Robbe and Sander were on the balcony together, apparently because Jana was showing her new clothes she got so the bitch was busy.

Not only Robbe was completely furious with Jana, she also didn’t help him at all.

“Get her out of my sight.” How can Robbe tell Jana this without actually saying these words.

Then things got bad again and he locked himself up in the bathroom, washing his face over and over again.

It was already getting pretty late and this time he really couldn’t wait to go home.

He didn’t know how long he was stuck in there, in the room, in his own head.

His mood was already at the edge and it dropped down the hell when he walked out and realized that something was off.

Something was awfully wrong.

And that something was Sander’s absence from the room.

“Where’s Sander?” He rushed to Jens’s side and before the boy even had any time to answer, Robbe looked around and saw that Britt wasn’t there as well.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Where is he? Jens answer me right now.” He demanded when his friend wasn’t telling him what he wanted to hear.

“Hey. Calm down now. He will be right back. She -“ He started calmly but Robbe interrupted him.

“What do you mean he will be right back? Where is he? Where did he go?” He panicked and felt something got stuck in his throat.

Robbe knew the answer.

Robbe knew where he was.

“Oh, Robbe, I know he’s your friend but sometimes you got to let him be alone with his girlfriend.” Jana walked up to them and heard their conversation.

“It’s late already. Britt’s parents were calling her so Sander left to drop her off.” She said and walked away again, like she didn’t casually just drop the biggest exploding bomb on Robbe’s head.

“He left?” Robbe gritted through his teeth, his blood starting to boil.

He left me here.

He left me and went with her.

He left me.

“Hey, hey. Listen to me.” Jens started, already sensing that his mind was starting to spin, put both of his palms on his shoulders so the panicked and angry boy would focus on him and what he was saying.

“It’s almost 3am. You don’t think Sander would let any girl walk alone at this time of the day right? His girlfriend or not.” Jens tried to let him see his reasons and Robbe’s brain finally started to overcome the thought of Sander leaving him alone and started to think clearly.

Jens was right.

“He was waiting for you to come out of the bathroom so he could let you know but you were there for a long time. And I told him that I’d give you the information. Relax now, okay?” He was talking slowly, letting Robbe adjust to what he was telling him.

Breath in.

Breath out.

“You hear me?”

“Yes, yes. You’re right. Sorry. Sorry. You’re right.” 

“I know I am. Your boyfriend’s a gentleman, don’t you remember? He will be right back.”

And Robbe could only nod his head, breathing heavily.

He calmed down a bit, hearing Jens telling him this made him loosen up. 

And he was desperately waiting for Sander to come back to him.

Every time he’d hear the footsteps, his eyes would lock on the door.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Hoping.

He didn’t lose hope and didn’t stop eyeing the door either.

He didn’t stop for a very long time.

Then his mind started playing tricks on him, imagines of why Sander was late and what they must be doing at this exact moment playing though his head. Robbe was yelling at them to go away but new and new scenes were tormenting his poor brain, breathing getting harder and harder for him.

Not even the cold water was helping him.

Milan’s “drink up” echoing in his brain.

He looked at the door for the last time before he took another shot.

The door didn’t open.

Chapter 27.2

[danijimenezv]

Amiga! These questions are bit different:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Amiga these are genius dksaldnafjcsajd I am in love with this! The angst and longing from Book 1 is just delicious

Not Yet Wed Questions

The setting for this answers is: Post Miami, but before he quit.

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought __________

Jill: Wow.

Ethan: Care to clarify?

Jill: *blushes* Well, the first time I saw you was taking control of a medical emergency. It was amazing, and I was a bit awestruck. Of course, right after that, I thought that you were a handsome asshole.

Ethan: Of course.

Jill: …You’re not answering?

Ethan: I don’t feel like answering.

Jill: Okay, that’s either really good or really bad.

Ethan: You’re going to let it get to your head.

Jill: Really? Well now I’m intrigued. Do tell, Dr. Ramsey.

Ethan: I thought you were proficient.

Jill: Proficient? Seriously?

Ethan: You were just an intern on your first day, and you still jumped into action when a woman needed help. It was… not what I expected.

Jill: *grins smugly* So you were just as awestruck, is that what you’re saying?

Ethan: That’s not what I said.

Jill: It’s what I heard.

Ethan: I knew you would let it get to your head.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Both: Fuck. *laugh*

Jill: Dr. Ramsey doesn’t regularly curse out loud, instead you can see the intention written all over his face. But I have caught him saying “fuck” a few times.

Ethan: On the other hand, Dr. Valentine curses like a sailor. Even for the smallest of things, you can hear her whispering “fuck” under her breath.

Jill: He also uses “goddammit” and “Christ” a lot.

Ethan: And when it’s not a situation, but a person, she uses “fucker”.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Jill: Deep blue.

Ethan: Whiskey.

Jill: You know, I feel honored to be compared to whiskey. I know how much you value it.

Ethan: *stutters and blushes* What? I-I don’t… It wasn’t like that.

Jill: *smirks* Suuuuure.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Jill: That’s a hard one.

Ethan: You’re exaggerating.

Jill: I’m not. You hate a lot of people.

Ethan: Hate is an overdramatic word.

Jill: Well, okay, then you strongly dislike a lot of people.

Ethan: Closer.

Jill: Does Nash count as coworker now that he has a deal with the team?

Ethan: Unfortunately.

Jill: Okay, so first Nash, and then in no particular order Dr. Cyrus, Dr. Wen, Dr. Toussaint…

Ethan: Those are more than three.

Jill: And I can keep going. Dr. Mirrielees, Dr. Rosario… June? I don’t know her personally, but I heard you complain about her the other day, so…

Ethan: Eavesdropping again, were you?

Jill: Never, just passing by and paying attention to my surroundings, like a good diagnostician should.

Ethan: Right. You forgot yourself.

Jill: Uh-uh, you don’t fool me. I’m possibly one of the few interns you tolerate.

Ethan: *sighs but doesn’t deny it* Round it up, Rookie. No point stretching out the answer.

Jill: Okay, fine. I guess mainly Nash, Cyrus, and Wen. And also probably some intern, or a handful of them. Not including me, obviously.

Ethan: Hrm, I think the most annoying of them is your partner on the Knoblauch case. The squirmy one.

Jill: Landry? Really? I admit he can get a bit annoying at times, but he’s just really nervous around you.

Ethan: Well, I don’t like him.

Jill: Your turn to answer.

Ethan: I would go with Nash as well, but other than that, I don’t think you hate any other coworker. Dr. Valentine seems to get along with everyone, it’s… disconcerting.

Jill: It’s called being a people person. But I do find Dr. Cyrus and Dr. Lozoya irritating. Don’t tell them, though.

Ethan: I do believe, however, that I made it to that list at some point.

Jill: What makes you say that?

Ethan: Your impertinence and constant point to defy me.

Jill: I defy you because I can. That doesn’t mean I hate you.

*Ethan is stunned into silence*

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Ethan: She sometimes snorts when she laughs.

Jill: Oh my God, you’ve heard that?!

Ethan: What’s wrong with that?

Jill: That’s not endearing, that’s embarrassing!

Ethan: She also scrunches up her nose or bites her lip when she’s too focused on something. It’s cute.

Jill: *stares at him with wide eyes* You think I’m cute?

Ethan: I think your quirks are cute.

Jill: Right… Dr. Ramsey places a finger on his temple, either when he’s deep in thought or when he’s fighting the urge to strangle someone, usually an intern. He also pinches the bridge of his nose a lot, especially when he’s annoyed.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

*They stare at each other pointedly, and then look away, blushing.*

Jill: *clears her throat* I don’t do crushes.

Ethan: *raises an eyebrow in challenge* Lahela?

Jill: Not a crush.

Ethan: Then what was he, exactly?

Jill: Friend with benefits.

Ethan: *chokes up* Christ…

Jill: Well, you asked!

Ethan: Is he still?

Jill: No, not anymore. Not since before… you know…

Ethan: Ah… *looks away*

Jill: Anyway… I would say your crush is probably Chief Emery. Or, well, me.

Ethan: *in a warning tone* Jillian.

Jill: What? Bree said this was off the record. Someone has to acknowledge what happened, and you’re clearly not going to, so might as well be me.

*Ethan looks down regretfully*

Never have I ever

Jill: Ohhh, I love this game! And look, we even got paddles with I have/I have never.

Ethan: What are we, in high school?

Jill: Would you rather do it with drinks? During work hours?

Ethan: *sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose* Let’s get this over with.

Jill: Knew it.

come into work hungover

*Both raise the ‘I have never’ paddle.*

Ethan: I admit, I was not expecting that.

Jill: You just have to think the worse of me always, don’t you?

Ethan: Speaking as someone that saw you party up at Donahue’s the night after your first shift, yes.

Jill: Okay, fair, but I have an advantage over the rest of people.

Ethan: Which is?

Jill: Genetically speaking, the Valentines don’t get hangovers.

Ethan: You say that now because you’re young.

Jill: My brother is not, and he still doesn’t know what having a hangover is like. And we’ve obviously tried it out.

Ethan: Okay, I’ll concede. That’s an unfair advantage.

*Jill grins widely and winks*

had a fistfight

*Ethan lifts the ‘I have never’ paddle*

Jill: Liar. You told me you punched Nash.

Ethan: For it to be a fight, the counterpart has to actually throw a punch as well. Nash never got the chance.

Jill: Okay, then I never have either.

Ethan: *blinks in surprise* You’ve punched someone?

Jill: A kid at school bullied my little sister once.

Ethan: Once?

Jill: Yes. I gave him a black eye, and he never dared to say anything else about Ivy.

Ethan: How heroic.

Jill: *shrugs* My sister was mortified, as the delicate princess she is, but I think it was worth it.

Ethan: It’s a little hard to imagine, given your height.

Jill: The smallest are always the feistiest ones. We’re like Chihuahuas.

been kicked out of a bar

*The two of them raise the ‘I have’ paddle*

Jill: You?

Ethan: A friend of mine from med school got a little carried away. What about you?

Jill: I was busted with a fake I.D.

Ethan: You went to a bar when you were underage?

Jill: Does it make it better if I say I wasn’t drinking?

Ethan: Why else would you go to a bar?

Jill: It was initiation week at Léman Prep.

Ethan: *blinks several times in confusion* I’ll pretend to know what you’re talking about.

Jill: Well, you know how high school was like. If I hadn’t done that, they would’ve eaten me alive. It was survival 101.

Ethan: What happened afterwards?

Jill: I made the headlines, and my grandparents had to pay a shit ton of money and pull a lot of strings to bury the scandal. And I got the biggest lecture and grounding of my life.

gotten a tattoo

*Both show the ‘I have never’ paddle*

Ethan: It’s not my thing.

Jill: Neither is mine.

broken someone’s heart

Jill: I have. My older sister nicknamed me ‘heartbreaker’ during my high school years.

Ethan: And you say this proudly?

Jill: I’m not proud of it, I’m just saying it how it is. I’ve always been clear with people about what I want and what I don’t. I don’t lead them on with false promises, but a few of them tried to change my mind, unsuccessfully.

Ethan: Well, I don’t think I have.

*Ethan lifts the ‘I have never’ paddle. Immediately, Jillian takes it from him and switches it for the ‘I have’ paddle. She doesn’t say anything else, just looks away, pained, and Ethan just stares at her aghast.*

been in love

*Both choose the ‘I have never’*

Ethan: I don’t believe in being in love.

Jill: I do, but I don’t think it’s for me. I had to watch my older sister almost lose herself from the heartbreak it brought her, and I don’t want that…

For Jillian (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Jill: Professionally speaking, I see him still at Edenbrook, running the diagnostics team. He’s really committed to the team’s vision, helping those who have nowhere else to go. Probably with a new book out and a lot more of research published as well. He’s brilliant like that. Personally… I think he’s too self-sabotaging to actually achieve something in that area. Although, I don’t rule out the possibility of Dr. Ramsey rekindling his romance with Chief Emery. I’ve seen the way they look at each other, and I’m no idiot, something is still there… Either way, I do hope he finds someone that makes him happy. He’s a great man, and he certainly deserves it.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Jill: I want to say his intelligence, but it’s actually his heart. Underneath all that grumpiness and mean remarks, he actually has a heart of gold, so full of compassion. He cares so much about his patients, and even about interns under his supervision. He goes out of his way for them, and that tells a lot about the kind of man he is.

Last thing he texted you?

Jill: “Dr. Valentine, the results we were waiting on are out. Please make your way to my office. I need another perspective, in case I missed something.” Always so formal.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Jill: *chuckles bitterly* He wouldn’t… ask me out, I mean. Ethan is a man with a serious black and white view of the world, including his moral stand. I already tried to climb the walls he set around himself, and I ended up falling flat on my ass. So I don’t think it would ever happen. If, miraculously, he hit his head, forgot about his current dilemma and asked me out on a date… I’d say yes, in a heartbeat. But I don’t think that’s in the cards.

For Ethan (Jillian is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Professionally, I see Dr. Valentine surpassing just about any doctor. She’s one of the brightest minds I’ve seen, so it wouldn’t be hard to picture her becoming a big name in medicine. I hope she’ll be in the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook, but she could land anywhere and still have a successful career, wherever she’ll go. Probably with a book written and research published, maybe even winning awards. She’s that great. Personally, still close with her friends. On the romantic front, I’m not sure… From what I’ve seen, Jillian is not one to settle down. I’ve seen her rejecting good relationship prospects without so much as a second glance, and I’ve heard around that she doesn’t want to commit to anyone… which is good for her, because that means she won’t allow her personal life to interfere with her professional success. Though, I do wish she finds someone that makes her happy, someone worthy of her, that can give her everything she wants and deserves. I hope she finds exactly what she’s looking for.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: She’s not listening, is she…? *runs a hand over his face in frustration* I know I’m not supposed to, but I find everything about her attractive, from her physical looks to her intelligence, ambition and compassion. But mainly, I think it would be her charm. I know most men would say the same thing, it’s her signature, but the way she carries herself with confidence and charisma, without truly realizing the effect she has on everyone else… She’s witty and flirty, and warm, and… just herself.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: “I doubt you missed anything, but I’ll be right there.”

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: I know for a fact that she wouldn’t ask that. Like I said before, Jillian Valentine is not one to date. Off the record and hypothetically speaking, if our situation was different, I would say yes, without a doubt. Even if I don’t deserve her, even if I’m not worthy of her, I know she’s an incredible woman, and I’d be lucky if she decided she wanted to be with me. But I know better, that’s all hypothetical. In reality, she’s still an intern, running for a spot in my team. Not only would it be unethical and inappropriate, but it also would be damaging to her career and her reputation. She’s worked too hard to get exactly where she is, and I care too much about her to hurt her like that, so it’d be a no.

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst, @takeharryandgo, @aestheticartsx, @choicesfanaf, @fireycookie, @liaromancewriter, @trappedinfanfiction, @tsrookie, @genevievemd, @lucy-268, @writinghereandthere, @queencarb, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @ohchoices, @anntoldst0ries, @bluebellot, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @mysticaurathings, @iemcpbchoices, @itsjustamesshonestly, @shanzay44, @lsdw-blog, @heauxplesslydevoted, @starryeyedrookie, @casey-v​, @mercury84choices, @chaoticchopshopheart, @quixoticdreamer16

[stxphxn-strange]

i found the one, he changed my life (what now?) [i’d love it if we made it, pt. 3]

a/n: holy SHIT i am so happy about the way this turned out, this continues the story of college AU!tony dealing with his ex and the pressure he puts on himself to be honest with his friends. (title from “what now” by rihanna) TW: discussion of abusive relationships, mention of surgery, unhealthy/stalking behaviors, and i think that’s it but pls lmk if there’s anything else i should tag

summary: “He’s obsessed with you [...] I think he loves me, I feel certain that he loves me. But he feels some kind of way about you, and it’s creepy,” Bucky elaborated, leaving Anthony at a loss for words.

“It’s a nice day, seasonal allergies aside,” Anthony remarked.

“I would put flowers in your hair and be all cute and shit but I’m trying not to make you sneeze,” Stephen replied. “That would be unfortunate.”

Anthony laughed lightly and rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder. “You can still pet my head though, that would be nice.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re terrible at subtlety?” Stephen asked, beginning to play with Anthony’s hair.

“I think you did this morning,” Anthony replied. “Because you’re obnoxious.”

“Isn’t that why you love me?” Stephen teased, batting his eyelashes.

“It’s one of many reasons,” Anthony said, a soft smile on his face. “It is really nice out though.”

“Listen I know I’m always on time, but can we make an exception today?” Christine sat across from the couple, her auburn hair made extra bright by the sunlight as she pulled it out of her face. “Sorry I’m late.”

“The way that you’re literally not sorry at all makes that apology for me,” Stephen said. “Don’t worry about it though, we’ve just been hanging out. Where’s Hope?”

“Inside, for some reason,” Christine replied with a shrug.

“Probably because it’s allergy season,” Anthony commented, rolling his eyes as he sneezed again.

“He complains, despite begging me to sit outside with him,” Stephen added.

“That doesn’t sound like me, but go off I guess,” Anthony replied, picking up his phone. “Hey Rhodey, what’s up?”

“Are you running errands by chance?” Rhodey asked.

“Nope, I’m sitting outside with Steph and Christine,” Anthony said. “Why, do you need something?”

“I was just going to ask if I could send you a short list of things I wanted. Not a big deal but I’m out of cereal,” Rhodey replied.

“Text it to me anyway, I don’t think I’m going out but if I do I’ll get whatever you want,” Anthony said with a shrug.

“You’re the best Tones. By the way are you feeling better?” Rhodey asked.

“A little bit. It’s nice just sitting outside,” Anthony replied. “I dunno. I’m not thinking about it.”

“Fair enough. Enjoy the fresh air, don’t worry about the cereal though! See you later.”

“Bye Rhodey, everyone say bye!”

Christine and Stephen shouted their goodbyes as Anthony ended the call.

“You good?” Christine asked kindly.

“Yeah, sorta.” Anthony shrugged again. “I just didn’t sleep a lot last night, so that wasn’t fun. I’ve been stressed out about… things. Turns out it actually is weird to have one of your friends dating your ex.”

Christine hummed. “Tea. I thought there was something bothering you, like more than just the awkwardness. I can read you well enough by now. So what’s wrong?”

“Honestly I don’t want to tell you this exact minute because I feel like the only person who should hear this privately is Bucky. I’ll have to see how I feel after I talk with him, and if I’m okay then I’ll probably tell everyone in the group all at once. I just don’t want to repeat the same story over and over again, that’s going to wear me down,” Anthony replied. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh my god dude that’s fine! No stress,” Christine rushed to assure him. “You just seem sad and I want to help but I also don’t want you to make yourself feel worse, that’s not fair to you.”

Anthony breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Christine.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Christine said.

Anthony sneezed again, not seeing the need to reply beyond that. There was just nothing else to say.

“Let’s go inside,” Stephen suggested. “It’s getting kinda gross out anyway.”

“Oh sorry, that’s because I’m out here. I’ll leave.” Anthony jokingly moved to stand up, laughing raucously when Stephen pulled him into a hug before he even stood.

“Nooo, you’re good! You stay,” Stephen replied. “The sun is out because you’re here.”

Anthony blushed and buried his head against Stephen’s collarbone. “Oh hush.”

Christine stood up. “I may as well go inside while you two idiots keep flirting, now my allergies are acting up.”

“You’re not allergic to pollen,” Stephen remarked, standing up and offering Anthony his hand.

“I’m not allergic to most things, but I’m allergic to your bullshit,” Christine quipped. “I feel like I tell you that at least once a week.”

Anthony laughed and stood up, smiling as he wrapped his arms around Stephen’s waist.

“In all seriousness, you’re cute together,” Christine continued.

“Oh we know,” Anthony said. “How was your day Christine?”

The trio headed inside as Christine thought about how to answer.

“Honestly I don’t think anything even happened today.” she finally said. “Hope and I had breakfast together and I quite literally ran into Carol in the library. It was nice to catch up with her though because I feel like I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Now that I think about it, I also feel like I haven’t seen Carol in a long time,” Stephen said.

“We didn’t talk for too long since we were in the library, but she seems good,” Christine replied. “I think she and Val are still unpacking so they’ve been focused on that, y’know?”

“Makes sense. Props to them for moving in the middle of the year, that’s too much for me. That’s why I’m making everyone wait until the summer,” Anthony said.

“You’re not making anyone wait, you’re just making sense,” Stephen corrected him. “Moving is stressful enough, I don’t want to deal with it during exam season and neither does anyone else.”

“Can I plan your housewarming party?” Christine asked, opening the apartment door.

“Who said anything about a housewarming party?” Anthony replied.

“Wong said I could throw one once you’re all moved in,” Christine explained. “We don’t have a contract in writing yet, but that’s because—”

“Because I never said you could throw us a party!” Wong shouted from the living room. He was sitting in his usual armchair by the window, half paying attention to whatever show Bucky and an all too familiar blond were watching. “Also Bucky is here again, and he brought a friend.”

“Boyfriend,” Bucky chimed in. “We’re going to dinner soon, I just left my jacket here the other day and then I decided I’d introduce Steve to you guys. So yeah, this is my boyfriend Steve. Steve, this is Christine, Stephen, and I think you know Tony. I heard there’s a history there or something.”

Bucky was trying his best to prematurely make the best of an awkward situation, but Steve was the only one who found any humor in what he said.

The offending blond laughed and nodded, his expression unreadable in a way that made Anthony freeze. He was looking with condescension at their entwined hands, like he didn’t approve of Stephen and Anthony finally being together. With an arrogant sniff, he got off his high horse long enough to respond. “I know him and Stephen, actually. You both look good.”

“Thanks,” Stephen replied, his teeth bared in a forced, blatantly hostile grin.

Anthony rubbed at his eyes, tearing up from the situation and his allergies. “Yeah good to see you too, if you’ll excuse me I need to take some allergy medication.” He couldn’t run and hide in the bathroom fast enough, and he knew everyone in the room could see him trembling.

Stephen let his genuine emotion break through his façade for a moment, frowning as he watched Anthony retreat. His steely look of disapproval returned a minute later as he sat down in the kitchen, eavesdropping on the group’s conversation.

“Mind if I get some water? I didn’t get to hydrate as much today,” Steve asked.

Stephen, pretending to be busy, glared at his phone like he was reading a poorly worded email. He paid little attention to the blond as he bumbled around the kitchen, following Wong’s directions on where to find cups and the Brita and other shit.

“So you’ve finally come back to the city, hm? Tony used to tell me about how you both grew up here and how New York never left you,” Steve asked Stephen. He was making an extremely poor attempt to sound friendly, but all he did was make the med student extremely uncomfortable.

Stephen gave a forced laugh. “Yeah, they couldn’t keep me away.”

“Seems like you couldn’t keep yourself away from Tony either, not with the amount of times he cheated on me with you,” Steve remarked.

“Listen, we both know that’s not true and I barely want to give you the time of day. You know damn well he never cheated on you and I don’t have to justify myself to you. After all, you were the cheater. If you think I’m just going to roll over in my own apartment and let you run your mouth like that, especially knowing how badly you treated my Anthony, then you’ve got another thing coming,” Stephen snapped. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Clearly anyone who thinks I’m aggressive and controlling hasn’t met you,” Steve said, closing the fridge and leaving Stephen fuming in the kitchen.

After 15 minutes of ignoring some small talk, Stephen had had enough. Anthony was still hiding somewhere and Stephen was just over Steve being in his apartment. He was trying not to be too angry, because Bucky didn’t know about how Steve and Anthony’s breakup or relationship went. Stephen couldn’t, and didn’t, blame him.

But Steve was a coward and a jerk, and Stephen wouldn’t touch him with an 11 foot pole. Stephen wouldn’t even get close to him to shove him headfirst out the door, actually.

“I’m gonna be in my room studying if you guys need anything, enjoy your dinner Bucky!” He said, waving at his friends in the living room and pointedly ignoring Steve.

“Thanks man! If you want to hang out later, maybe on a double date or something—”

“Oh I’d love that!” Steve chimed in, unprovoked and uninvited.

“Depends on what Ant’s doing, I know I’m pretty busy tonight but if he wants to go out then we’ll let you know,” Stephen said firmly. He heard the bathroom door open behind him and Anthony’s light footsteps in the hall.

“I think I’ll just run to the bathroom before we leave, if that’s alright?” Steve asked.

“Are you asking me?” Stephen replied, ignoring him and heading in the direction of his bedroom. “Don’t you dare patronize me.”

Anthony was standing nervously outside Stephen’s room, staring at the floor. He looked horrified and meek, pressing his back against the wall and hoping he’d disappear out of Steve’s gaze.

But of course he wasn’t that lucky. Sometimes it felt like he’d never truly get away from the way Steve used to look at him and was apparently still looking at him.

Anthony looked up as Stephen gently tapped his shoulder. “Hey… you alright?”

He forced himself to nod, tears still pooling in his eyes from either anxiety or allergies. Maybe both. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just—”

“Oh there you are Tony! Bucky and I are leaving, so I thought I’d say goodbye,” Steve said, lingering in the doorway to the bathroom. “Maybe we could go for a double date later? If you’re allowed to, that is. I always said Strange was a controlling downgrade, didn’t I?”

“Good thing I never listened when you said that, because I’m much happier now,” Anthony muttered.

“Aww, don’t be a bad sport! It’ll be just like the glory days.” Steve appeared to be ignoring his current relationship to flirt with Anthony, stepping out of the doorway and leaning closer (read: too close for comfort) to him.

“I don’t know about that,” Anthony said, his voice taut. “I wouldn’t want to be around you for much longer. Seeing you is already making me think about our… could you call it a relationship?”

“You’re so funny Tony, just as funny as I remember.” Steve sounded like a content house cat as he quite literally purred at Tony. “I miss that humor. I just miss you.”

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual.”

++++

“Not to state the obvious, but I hate that guy,” Stephen muttered, storming into the kitchen a few hours later.

“Is Ant okay?” Wong hadn’t moved from his seat in the living room, except for the fact that he was laying across the armchair sideways and there were three more mystery novels next to him.

“He’s sleeping. Even before all of that shit went down,” Stephen began, gesturing to the air in front of him, “We were outside for long enough that even if he won’t admit it, his allergies are bothering him.”

“How long were you outside for before I came to sit with you guys?” Christine asked.

“Maybe 90 minutes? Long enough to be considered too long,” Stephen replied. “It doesn’t matter. Did you guys eat yet?”

“No, we were waiting on you and Pepper. She said she’d be back by 7,” Christine said.

“What do you want? I’m open to suggestions,” Stephen asked. “I kinda want to make pasta but I know I’m not good enough at it so it wouldn’t make Anthony happy.”

“Don’t be stupid, Stephen. It absolutely would, and you know that,” Christine scolded him. “Do whatever you feel like! And I think pasta sounds nice.”

Stephen nodded. “Fair enough. I’m making ravioli and none of you can stop me. We deserve it.”

“Oh no Stephen don’t do that, don’t make something that you like to cook and that we all like to eat,” Wong teased. “Christine, he’s too powerful, we have to stop him.”

Stephen humorously rolled his eyes. “Anthony is the one who gave me a good recipe, so technically we all have him to thank for enabling me. Except not right now. Let him sleep.”

++++

“Oh by the way, I told Bucky that I’d get coffee with him later and we’re going to talk about whatever the hell happened this weekend,” Anthony said. “Do you want me to bring you back anything while I’m out?”

“Hmm… I don’t think so.” Stephen drew a heart on the back of Anthony’s hand with his thumb, something he noticed himself doing a lot.

Anthony always rewarded him for the gesture with the smallest, shyest smile that Stephen thought was the most adorable thing ever. “Text me if you change your mind, yeah?”

“Okay, I will.” Stephen smiled back at him, lovingly brushing Anthony’s hair out of his face. “Also if I send you a list will you help me decide on a movie for tonight?”

“Not sure you’re asking the right person, but sure,” Anthony replied.

“That’s subjective. I think I’m asking the right person,” Stephen said. “You’ve never steered me wrong before.”

“I hope I never do.” Anthony pressed a soft, sweet kiss to Stephen’s lips. “But knowing you, you’ll definitely change your mind about wanting a tea or something.”

“If I do, I’ll tell you,” Stephen replied, smiling into the kiss. “Promise. Have a good day, and good luck later.”

“I think I’m going to need it,” Anthony said with a little nervous laugh.

“Would a kiss help your luck?” Stephen couldn’t keep a neutral face. “I never imagined myself saying that. Or getting to kiss you.”

“Stop it, don’t make me blush this early in the day,” Anthony replied. “In all seriousness, I love you. And your kisses are magical, who’s to say they aren’t lucky?”

++++

Anthony couldn’t say whether or not he felt lucky later that day, because the only thing he felt was nervous. Bucky looked just as nervous and sheepish as Anthony did, and his internal monologue had already switched to guilt. They exchanged small talk and pleasantries while they waited for their coffee, their mutual discomfort becoming more and more tangible by the minute.

Most people joked that Anthony talked to hear the sound of his own voice, but today he was so nervous he couldn’t hear himself think. He didn’t know what to say or even where to start. Thankfully, Bucky blurted out a question before Anthony thought about how to start the conversation.

“How long were you two together?”

“Two and a half years, give or take. And I didn’t cheat on him with Stephen.”

“I didn’t think so. I wasn’t even going to ask about that.” Bucky smiled, trying to somehow calm Anthony down with his expression. “Who broke it off?”

“Me. Sometimes I feel like I did it a lot later than I should have, honestly.” Anthony shrugged. “I wasn’t ever happy in that relationship. I wanted to be, and I did everything I could to make it work even at my own expense, but eventually I had to end it. I’m happier now, but sometimes I still… I shouldn’t say any of this to you, not if you’re happy.”

“You know what bothers me, though?”

Anthony wasn’t expecting that. “What’s up?”

“I don’t think he’s over you. And that doesn’t bother me in a jealous sense, I’m not like that, but I feel almost used. Especially after this weekend,” Bucky said.

“What do you mean?” That worried Anthony for a lot of reasons, and he couldn’t decide which one was the most important.

“Tony, he's obsessed with you. The entire time we were driving Sunday night he wouldn’t stop talking about you, to the point where it was weird. I started to feel like he used me to see you,” Bucky replied. “One time I showed him a group picture, this was like six months ago, from that time we went out ice skating and ever since then he’s been pestering me about you. I don’t even think it has anything to do with me, if that makes sense.”

“I’m not following,” Anthony admitted. “Not entirely, anyway.”

“I think he loves me, I feel certain that he loves me. But he feels some kind of way about you, and it’s creepy,” Bucky said. “Now as I said it’s not jealousy, I just think it’s a bit disturbing that he’s so hung up on you.”

Anthony nodded slowly. “Yeah, I don’t like that. He didn’t want me to dump him but I had to, there’s no two ways about it. What happened Sunday?”

“We had a disagreement. I told him I felt used and he wasn’t happy about that, but he didn’t deny it either,” Bucky replied. “I was hoping he’d drop the whole thing but I don’t think he’s going to. I don’t think he’s going to ever get over you, honestly.”

“Damn. I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that.” Anthony nervously ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to pull at it. “Um… yeah I don’t really know what to think or what to say.”

“Neither do I,” Bucky admitted. “I really want to try things out with him and see how they continue, but I also don’t think he’s going to change. Now that he’s actually seen you, I feel like it’s only going to be more awkward.”

“Oh about that, I’m sorry I didn’t want to go out the other day,” Anthony said. “I was going to try and make myself power through it, but… just being around him for however long you guys were in the apartment was way too much. I got really anxious and just hid in Stephen’s room. And then, on an unrelated note, I ended up sleeping for 14 hours or something.”

“I’m sorry if I was forceful. I didn’t know how to subtly ask if he was making you uncomfortable in the moment, but I could see it,” Bucky replied. “I don’t blame you.”

Anthony shrugged. “Dude I’m at a loss, generally speaking. I don’t know what to say about everything you just told me, but honestly I’m feeling a little sick.”

“Are you going to see Stephen? I’m meeting Christine, so if you want I’ll walk with you,” Bucky offered.

Anthony nodded. “Sure.”

“I really am sorry, Tony. For everything this weekend, and if something I said upset you after your wisdom tooth surgery,” Bucky said.

“It’s not your fault. I’ve been stressing about how to tell everyone about that relationship for too long and the way I felt when I woke up just reminded me of something I still don’t really want to talk about,” Anthony replied. “There’s a lot I’m holding back, even from you, but I’m just not ready to go into all of that yet.”

“I won’t be upset if you tell me,” Bucky tried to comfort him.

“It’s less about that and more the fact that I don’t want to even think about it. I don’t want to think about him,” Anthony said. “I don’t want to hear his voice, or see him, or even hear about him, if I’m being honest. And I feel bad, because I know you love him, but—”

“But you’re my friend, and I care about you. Plus you’re way too polite to be direct when something or someone upsets you and I think that does more harm than good. You just end up keeping everything to yourself, and you don’t have to,” Bucky interrupted. “You don’t have to be a closed book all the time.”

Anthony smiled at that. “Stephen’s said that to me before. I don’t know why, but I like that phrasing. I’m not one to open up in general, even though I trust everyone in our friend group, but this feels like it’s too much to get into the open right now. Someday I’ll be ready, but not today. It doesn’t help that this weekend was honestly too soon.”

“That’s fair man,” Bucky replied. “I don’t have to tell you that Stephen loves the shit out of you, and you deserve that.”

“I could go on and on about Steph probably endlessly,” Anthony said, hiding his face as he blushed.

“Everyone knows that, even people who have never met either of you know that!” Bucky teased. “But honestly, are you okay?”

Anthony shrugged. “Yes and no. I just need time.”

“I understand. And I am really, really sorry about this weekend,” Bucky replied. “Forgive me?”

Anthony shook his head. “Do I need to? It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not, but still… I’m sorry. I hope that means something, at least.”

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @taruyison @chocopiggy @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @merlynthedisasterchild @kitkatfat15 @maya-custodios-dionach @katninjagirl97

[thiswasinevitableid]

for mermay, 24 indruck nsfw?

Here you go! 24 was Lighthouse, and I made it a continuation of this space mermay fill. NOTE: this fill contains oviposition.

Communication Log between Lieutenant of the Amnesty and Chief Astrobotantist Duck Newton.

Joseph: Storm is forecasted to last four days at least. We won’t be able to land on Atlantia to pick you up until it passes.

Duck: Roger that. We should be fine here; ‘Drid says the storms are dangerous for spacecrafts and travel but not for buildings. I’ll keep testing the specimens we found in the meantime.

Joseph: if it gets too dangerous, let us know and we’ll try to get an emergency retrieval ship to you.

Duck: Will do. Duck out.

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

Atlantia, one of the four moons of the planet Oceana, is off limits to most. It’s home to precious minerals that the residents of the moon Aquaria have been known to go to war over, fighting to see who controls the territory in which the substance resides. To avoid these conflicts, the whole moon was declared a public resource, and all but the native Atlantians must acquire elaborate permits to visit. Outsiders are practically forbidden.

Unless said outsider is married to one of the most valuable individuals in the whole lunar system and said individual is suddenly very willing to throw his weight around for the sake of his beloved’s research.

Indrid’s negotiations were only able to secure permission for him and Duck, not the rest of the Amnesty, and so Duck spent the better part of two weeks scouring the plant life and trying to discern if the mineral make-up of the soil produced plants more likely to contain the curative properties he’s searching for. When the storm picked up, rendering the surface of the moon unsafe, Indrid apologized profusely for not foreseeing the change in the futures. Duck pointed out that it was sudden enough that the two of them had already arrived at the pick-up spot before the storm turned violent.

Of places to be sheltering during a storm, an Oceanic Beacon is at once an excellent and terrifying choice. It’s a combination of a lighthouse and landing strip, alerting travelers to the presence of land and the location to dock their craft. Because light from the beacon has to reach a massive distance into the sky and across the waves, the building lives beneath a dome of specially engineered, see-through glass. A storm has never so much as cracked one. But it means that Duck has a perfect view of the gigantic waves washing over them which, while awe-inspiring, makes his lizard brain certain he’s about to drown.

So he spends most of his time in the terrestrial rooms researching to keep his mind off the weather. Except for when Indrid swims up from the heavily fortified subaquatic portion of the lighthouse to visit him. Then he devotes every last bit of his energy to his husband. Most of the Aquariads he meets are shocked to discover he’s not only happy to be married to the eerie, formidable seer, but that he actively misses him when he’s out on his missions.

“The others are not too worried I hope?” Indrid swims to him as he comes down the stairs from the communication pad.

“Nope.” Duck pulls off the top of his uniform, “once you knew we had food to last over a month if we had to, I got a hell of a lot calmer too.” He drops into the pool, water carrying a hint of heat, as Indrid curls the celestial expanse of his tail around his waist. Duck is a strong swimmer, but Indrid’s ability to carry him to and fro without getting so much as winded makes him want to feign helplessness and spend his days in those undulating scales.

“In that case, sweet one, care to join me for a swim before dinner?”

Duck smiles, “You know it, sugar” and draws the alien in for a kiss as the lights of the beacon make gemstones of the salt spray on the glass.

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

Two days down, two to go, and Indrid wishes he could enjoy their little impromptu second honeymoon to it’s fullest (he’d taken Duck on a proper one his first visit back after joining the others on their expedition). His body has other plans; it seems to have caught on to the fact his partner keeps coming and going, and that if he wishes to have offspring with said partner, he needs to be ready (never mind that he and Duck cannot have offspring through any sort of biological means). So when Duck’s scent fills his nose and his laugh floods his ears, his body decides to fill his ovipositor.

Thus, he’s spent the last three days increasingly uncomfortable, the weight noticeable in his abdomen. His initial plan was to excuse himself early in the evening when they got home and masturbate until they were all released. But the beacon, while spacious, has very few rooms closed off, and the water is so clear that there are a high number of futures in which Duck catches him in the act.

Which is why, as the human sleeps a very safe distance from the edge of the pool (“‘Drid, if I fall in the worse that’ll happen is I get a hell of a wake up call” “yes but I cannot bear even the slightest risk of you drowning”), Indrid is squirming in an attempt to get comfortable. He doesn’t even realize he’s chirping in frustration until Duck murmurs his name.

“It, it is nothing sweet one, go back to sleep.”

“Darlin, your spots are goin’ green.” Duck indicates the flickers of sickly chartreuse in the water, “you feelin sick?”

“No. Or, ah, not in the sense you are thinkingoh, ohhh” he sighs, rubbing his face against Duck’s palm as the human gauges whether he’s feverish, “but I am achy and restless.”

“And hot, christ ‘Drid, there are med supplies here right? I mean, I got some in my bag, but they’re for humans-”

“I am not sick. It’s this” He rolls onto his back so Duck can see his cock straining to emerge.

“Sugar, you know you can ask for help with that any time.” Duck’s smile is sweet sin.

“No, it’s” Indrid whines as the tip emerges, the bulge of the first egg painfully obvious.

“Oh. Huh. Kinda figured you weren’t due for that again for a year or so. Not sure why; guess I just assumed Aquariads had a matin season.”

“Unfortunately it can happen quite often. If, if you do not mind, I will excuse myself and deal with it. It’s to the point where the eggs need to come out sooner rather than later.”

“Sure. Or, uh, if you want, I could, uh, help you out?”

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

The widening of Indrid’s eyes and the shock of orange that travels up his tail and fin suggests Duck has just done something remarkable.

“Surprise you, sugar?” He tucks a strand of silver hair the behind the aliens fanned out ear.

“Yes. There, there were no futures where you offered, why in the name of the deep did you?” His colors have turned nervous, but Duck spots occasional bursts of desire.

“Because” He sits up, patting his lap so his husband will rest his head in it and let Duck rub the knots in his neck, “you’re my ‘Drid; I wanna help you out, make you feel good too. And uh, I gotta admit, I been a little curious about it. Plus that holo-porn compendium you sent me while I was gone time before involved it a lot and it seems like it could be fun.”

“So you did watch it” Indrid looks up, grinning.

“Course I did. Gotta learn how to please my Aquariad husband.” He teases, kissing Indrid’s forehead.

“You need no help in that area whatsoever. I could not ask for a finer husband, human or otherwise.” Indrid kisses Duck’s belly through his thin shirt, then pauses, “you are not offering this out of a feeling of obligation, right?”

“Right. I want to do this with you, ‘Drid. Cross my heart.”

Red eyes skate up to his face, “In that case, disrobe and get in the water at once.”

Duck sinks into the clear depths the instant he’s naked, Indrid swimming back only long enough for him to get in before crowding him against the edge of the pool.

“My love.” Indrid purrs, kisses so languid and gentle they almost disguise the heat in his fingertips as gropes Duck’s ass, the force with which his tail forces his legs apart.

“You know itAHhh, fuck, fuckin love that” he groans as the tendriled tip of his cock teases Duck’s own, “so, uh, this gonna be that different from the way we normally do this?”

“For starters, I will not cum until all the eggs are deposited.” Indrid’s fin flickers pink, “and it will be more intense on your end, not only because of the stretch but because I have to be rather, ah, vigorous in order to make sure they all come out.”

“As opposed to all those times you don’t fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.” Duck snickers, wrapping his legs around the dark scales to help ease Indrid’s cock into him.

“It’s not my fault you are the most delectable, ah, ‘piece of ass’ I have ever seen. Did I use that correctly?”

“Yep” Duck tips his head back, allowing Indrid to kiss it as he pauses his thrust so his tendrils can stroke his G-spot before continuing deeper, “you been watchin earth porn for ideas?”

“Indeed. I also found some featuring an actor who looks rather like you, and watched it an embarrassing amount during your absences.” He chirps as he bottoms out and Duck toys with the sensitive band in his fin as Indrid positions them so the bottom half of his tail is flat against the wall, which lets him keep Duck pinned to it.

“You are going to squirm, and I do not want you doing so and coming off my cock.”

“Seem mighty confident you’re gonna get that reaction.” Duck nips his ear.

Indrid’s sharp-toothed grin takes on a hungry glint, “The futures tell me so. But since you seem to doubt them…”

“AhFUCK!” Duck’s back bangs into the wall as Indrid pulls halfway out and then drives back into him, “fuckyeah, sugar that feels so fuckin goodOHwhatthefuck” the bumps in Indrid’s cock are moving, the ones towards the base of the shaft grinding on Duck’s dick as they do.

“Nmmmm, I told you I was pent up, oh, oh yes, yes sweet one, get ready to take the firstAHhhnnn.”

“Jesusfuck” Duck bucks his hips as the first egg pushes into him. It’s not hard like a birds egg, more soft and squishy, but all the same his body convulses as it registers something inside him. His brain, however, sends a moan from his mouth because as alien as the sensation may be, the fact it’s Indrid doing it makes him wetter and harder than he’s been in weeks.

Better still is the look on Indrid’s face, his head tipped back in bliss as he fucks him. It’s only when he looks down that Duck sees the tears threatening his eyes.

“You, I, I’ve, you are letting me lay in you, letting me mate with you, no, no one has ever let me do this before.”

The heat spiking through him on the word mate changes to fierce affection at the thought that Indrid was denied such closeness, or any closeness, for so long.

“Oh darlin, c’mere” he guides the alien into a kiss, then moans as another egg presses into him. Indrid swallows the sound down, keeps Duck in the kiss until the pressure has subsided.

“Such a lovely little mate.”

“Do my best.”

Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “That is why this has been so frequent, you know. I am so very enamored with you that the primal parts of my system want nothing more than to fill you with my eggs, keep you here pampered and fucked out until we have a whole little school swimming about the house. I, ahhhn, I could even look after them on my own while you are away. Or, or if we decide that is not for us I want to lay in you every day so no one else will ever dare to think you could be theirs.”

“Not a fuckin chance, fuck, darlin” his thighs tighten around his tail as another egg pulses out of the tip, “it’s so fuckin hot when you talk like that.”

“Really? I was afraid I was babbling. OhOHohdear, ah, this is unexpected.”

“Uh-”

“Not in a bad way, but I am so aroused the eggs are going to start coming out more quickly. Which means, my darling husband, I suggest you hold on.”

“Way ahead of youUUUshit, fuck” his hands switch from gripping Indrid’s shoulders to thrown around them for dear life as Indrid bounces him roughly on his dick. There’s not pause between the fourth and fifth egg and he’s starting to feel full, squirms when the sixth egg almost pushes Indrid’s cock free.

“I, I told you so.” Indrid purrs, hands holding tight to Duck’s ass as another egg emerges, “but you are not going anywhere, little human. You are, nnng, staying right here, taking every last one of them, because you are my mate and if I want you full to burst you will be.”

“Holy fuck, ‘Drid” Duck buries his face in his husbands neck as his cock shifts backwards. The tip opens wider, covering all of Duck’s folds as the tendrils return to his dick, “fuck, fuck, sugar I’m gonna cum.”

“Yesss” Indrid growls, tail rippling as he forces the next egg into place, “that’s it, sweet one, cum for me, cum while I stuff you full, my perfect, perfect, wonderful one.”

Duck can’t even get words out as his orgasm races through him, muscles spasming in new ways around the eggs. He whines as Indrid continues bouncing him, eggs shifting and keeping his muscles from relaxing, tendrils keeping a rapid tempo on his dick.

“Oh, ohohohoh I am close, ohyes, Duck, my sweet Duck, you take me so well, take a little more, be a good mate and take the last one, take my cum, you are going to hold all of it until I am satisfied that you are mine AH, ahhhhyes” he trills and Duck grunts as he’s stretched wider by the last egg and flood of cum. Indrid clings to him, chirping and trilling as his tail twitches, until his cock retracts. Then it’s just the storm and the sound of their joint panting as Indrid swims them weakly backwards to a shallow section of the pool.

“Here” the alien guides Duck to recline half out of the water, “if you spread your legs and relax, most of them will fall out on their own.”

“Gotcha.” Duck can neither keep his eyes open nor stay upright, so Indrid adjusts so the human is resting atop him, back against his chest. One by one, the eggs slip out dissolving in the water after a few moments. The last two prove stubborn and Indrid massages his abdomen, cooing about how wonderfully he did, until they too slip away.

“Thank you.” Indrid murmurs, nestling his chin on his shoulder.

“Any time, darlin. Or, uh, maybe not too many times back to back. Not sure my junk can take it. Still, better we did that than tryin it up my ass. Woulda lead to some awkward med records and my crew never lettin me live it down.”

“Do not be so sure. I suspect Joseph would have been envious.”

Duck snorts a laugh, looking over his shoulder in surprise.

“I read his sexual preferences on those forms they made you each submit.” Then he smiles like a sunrise welcoming Duck home, “but I think I made the right choice, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sugar, I do.”

[joonbugg]

Some TWs for mentions of meds and indirect mentions of covid

Hey,

First off, I know I don’t have much of a following here, but for those that are still here, I’m still here too. I apologize for my absence for over a month now, 2022 has been very rocky on this end.

I hope I don’t come off as pretentious because I’m certainly not the only one that’s been going through it.

I am also aware of the events happening in Europe right now and I hope I don’t come off as insensitive now or at any point in the future. I never thought I’d see the day when a war broke out, but I also don’t know what I was expecting. I hope this entire post doesn’t come off as insensitive.

—————

I started taking a new medication mid-January and, whether you have or haven’t been through that process, it’s a process. It actually just got changed again the other day so I’m back at it, but it’s going a bit better this time. (I say very lightly, it’s only been 3 days). It took a lot out of me the first time and I was not feeling well at all. But I am a bit better now. If you’re going through the same thing right now, stay strong and stick with it. It’s for the greater good.

Everything that happened with Jimin and then Taehyung, hit kinda hard. For a very long time I was just sitting with this feeling of “it’s only a matter of time before something serious happens to them.” Sure enough, Christmas rolled around and boom, 3 members down. Then Jimin had a very unexpected double whammy and that was scary. Coincidently, I still had that “matter of time” feeling (it’s very overwhelming) and for some reason, I kept thinking something was going to happen to Taehyung. Sure enough, you know the rest of the story. It all hit really hard. I know I’m not that only one in that either though. I’m glad the boys are all very strong and healthy. I’m glad to be seeing them back in the studio and back with each and I believe all the members heal each other in some way.

On a happier note, I made it to my birthday. I’m 19!!!! My birthday was February 15th and I had actually planned to make a little comeback and give you an update then, but unfortunately, Tae tested positive that day. I didn’t want to come off as insensitive about the situation, so I didn’t post anything. Idk, it just didn’t feel right to. I tried not to let it get me down though and it was a pretty good day. I waited to write this until we got the word that he was alright. So…. Yay!!!! My birthday and Taehyung is okay!!!!

Happy birthday Hobi!!! 🎉💜🥳

The vlives have been fun 😊

Holy shit!!!!! BTS coming to Las Vegas!!!!!! Good for them. Manifesting good health for the rest of 2022. Also can we talk about the fact that BTS are filling up 2 stadiums at a time. One with the actual concert and a live-streamed concert?!!!!!! Truly the greatest.

Anyways, those are the main things that have been going on with me for the past month. Sorry, again about the absence. I feel guilty for the people I interact with bc y’all need support too. Hopefully, things will get better and I’ll try my best to be here more often.

Let’s be happy and try to find the light. It’s not easy, but it’s always there and you deserve to find it.

[copperbadge]

Hi. I love your blog! I’m in the middle of a second major depressive episode (my first was in my teens) and like you were, I’m unemployed and living with my parents. I’m now on medication and getting help and applying for jobs, but no luck so far. How did you ‘turn your life around’ and how long did it take you – going from depressed to starting a successful career in the non-profit world? Any advice on how I could do the same?

Oh, Anon. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but in no way did I turn my life around, and I definitely didn’t build a career intentionally. 

A lot of the below is general advice -- you are already doing great! -- but I figure some people who are where you are but not quite as far along could be helped by it. Thanks for the opportunity :)

So, here’s the thing: depression is the kind of mental illness that can just be with you for the rest of your life even when it’s not impacting your life. Some depression is situational and therefore (theoretically) escapable, but some of us are just never going to forge enough serotonin on a regular enough schedule. So it’s not a matter of beating depression or backing away from it, but of learning good coping mechanisms: how to recognize an episode is coming, how to keep functioning in a depressive episode, when to ask for help. 

And unfortunately while I can tell you what works for me, this is going to vary by person. Some people feel sad all the time; some people feel numb; some people feel okay but are overly impacted by minor setbacks or frustrations, or can do normal life stuff but any deviation from routine sends them into a spiral. These are just examples; there are more. My methods of coping are stuff like building lists, making sure that those lists have stuff like “communicate with friends” on them, being on specific platforms that make that communication easy, and inasmuch as I can, avoiding drama and volatile emotions. Doing the bare minimum of housework to keep myself from being MORE depressed. Making sure my work gets done so that I keep my job, even if I feel like other parts of my life might be out of control. 

And as I’ve recently mentioned, I write fiction as a stress response. If I’m not writing but I’m doing okay -- keeping my house clean, feeling good, having fun -- that’s fine. Not optimal, I like writing, but it’s fine. If I’m writing, I’m probably a little stressed, but I’m managing it. If I’m not writing AND I’m not functioning well, or I know I’m unhappy, then I know that the depression is probably worse than I think it is, and I need to go into survival mode. 

Some people need meds -- taken year round, even when you’re not depressed. There’s no shame in that and if you aren’t currently using medication, I would recommend at least investigating its use to see if it could help. [ETA: Sorry I 100% missed the part where you are on medication, but this is still useful for others so I’m leaving it in.]

So like...”how long did it take me” is a tough question to answer because I’m still in it. I will be, all my life, and once I came to accept that, I could figure out ways to keep it from devastating me. How long it took me to establish good coping mechanisms? Well, I was diagnosed at 17, which is a rough age to be when it starts happening, but I managed to survive college (barely) and I feel like I had a pretty good handle on managing it by the time I was, I guess about 25. The point at which I was unemployed and living with my parents was the absolute low point of my life, when I was 23-24, but that was compounded by external factors. As soon as I got out of my parents’ house, things improved; as soon as I had a job, even a truly shitty one, I felt like life was survivable. (A huge coping mechanism in those days was actually Netflix, back when it was a mail-you-a-DVD service, because I knew at least a few times a week I would get mail addressed to me with a nice surprise in it.) 

And the thing about being here now is -- my parents gave me three grand to get out of the house, find a place of my own, and survive 2-3 months until I could find a job. I couldn’t have done any of what I’ve done without three solid thousand dollars, and even then I got lucky. I quit my first, super shitty job (the only time I have EVER quit a job) and got a job with my last place of work literally two week before the 2008 financial crisis hit. That job happened to be a very visible if very ground-floor administrative position, and from there I was able to impress people who wanted to hire me up to the next administrative level, and from there I was promoted into the department because I showed an active and visible interest in the work they did. That was intentional, but literally nothing before it was anything other than “I need a job and this one offers health insurance.”  

Once you have a job in which advancement is possible, which again is a matter somewhat of luck, advancing is just a matter of maintaining a good work-life balance while doing good work and showing you’re interested in supporting the mission of the company. Documenting the work you do, asking for raises, asking or applying for advancement -- putting yourself forward. That’s not so hard. But that’s kind of like starting on third base and telling someone you just need to run 90 feet. You’ve got to get to third base first and for me that was a lot of luck. 

But here’s the kicker: you can’t win the lottery unless you buy a ticket. So for you, right now, waiting on that opportunity, your job is to keep yourself alive and reasonably looked-after, gather all the energy you have, and start figuring out a game plan. Whether that’s a shitty job that you agree with yourself you’ll only do for a year, or asking your parents for a huge financial leap of faith if they’re able -- three grand was a LOT for my parents but they knew it was probably going to save my life -- or applying to better jobs that could push you up the ladder. And of course we’re in a pandemic so like, fuck the world, all of this is just that much harder. But people are being hired, and people are moving into apartments, and going to therapy, and doing their best. So there’s hope, as long as you start homebrewing it first. 

The thing that has helped me the most in the last twenty years, and which I think may be most helpful and simultaneously most frustrating to you, is that I never just said “I don’t like where I am or what I’m feeling”. I started there, absolutely, but then I asked, “What can I change to stop feeling this way?”

You have to rule out “nothing” as an answer. You probably will have to sit with the question for a while, maybe even a few weeks. You may need to google some weird shit to figure it out. And maybe what you do is a stupid stop-gap like buying yourself a $1 blind box toy once a week so you can feel surprise at something again. Maybe you admit that right now you need to pass the baton and you unfollow or blacklist political activism and activists and just fill your social media with people making dumb dad jokes and posting cat pictures. Maybe that gives your brain breathing room to find more permanent solutions.

But once you get in the habit of “how can I change this”, solutions do start to appear. 

So, yeah. Truth is I worked super hard but I also got super lucky. But part of being lucky was being there when the luck finally hit. So I’m wishing you, wholeheartedly, the best of luck. 

(Also if your parents have money and aren’t assholes I can’t recommend “Make them give you a long-term loan to get on your feet” strongly enough.)

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 4 of 16

Oh god, I’m growing attached to this relationship...

In other news, computer still dead and I’m tired and idk how to feel about this chapter. I’m slowing down lmao. But here it is anyway

~~~~~~~~~~

To say Gally was pissed that you went into the maze would be an understatement, even if you just went down the main corridor to help the boys get Alby inside the Glade.

Thankfully Gally didn’t have time to scold you too much, because after making sure Alby was situated in the Med-jacks care, the Keepers called a meeting to discuss the whole situation.

This should be fun...

As always, it was a little tough corralling everyone into council hall. But after everyone settled into their seats, Gally stood up to speak first after glancing your way for a moment.

“Things are changing.” Gally started. “There’s no denying that. First, Ben gets stung in broad daylight, and then Alby. And now our Greenie here has taken it upon himself to go into the maze. Which is a clear violation of our rules here.”

“Yeah, but he saved Alby’s life.” Frypan voiced, some Gladers nodding into agreement.

“Did he?” He countered. “For three years, we have coexisted with these things, and now you’ve killed one of them.” He pointed at Thomas. “Who knows what that means for us?”

“Well, what do you suggest we do?” Newt asked calmly.

“He has to be punished.” Gally said like it was the obvious action, making the whole room speak up with their disagreements, including you.

You scoffed. “You think he should be punished because he tried to save his life?”

Gally glared at you. “He still broke the rules.”

“So I guess that means Y/N has to be punished too.” Minho voiced, gaining the attention of the other Gladers. “She went into the maze.”

Gally rolled his eyes. “Not like that Greenie did.”

“Rules are rules, right, Gally? Or are you suggesting Y/N should get special treatment cause she’s a girl, or cause she’s special to you?”

“Minho.” Newt interrupted, sighing in frustration. “You were there with him. What do you think?”

Minho threw Gally a glare before sighing softly. “I think...in all the time we’ve been here, no one’s ever killed a Griever before. When I turned tail and ran, this dumb shank stood behind to help Alby. Look, I don’t know if he’s brave or stupid...whatever it is, we need more of it. I say we make him a Runner.”

“A Runner? What? Minho, let’s not jump the gun here, alright?” Fry voiced, along with everyone else voicing their opinions, even Chuck trying to get a chant in Thomas’ favor going, but failing.

“If you want to throw the newbie a parade, that’s fine. Go ahead. But if there is one thing that I know about the maze, it is that you do not-”

A rumbling and sudden blaring horn interrupted Gally, echoing around the entire Glade and making your ears hurt. But you knew that noise, it was what you heard when you came up in the Box. But it’s not even close to a month yet. Nothing is supposed to be coming up yet. So, what the hell is happening?

Gally and Newt ran out, taking off toward the Box immediately, you and the rest of the Gladers following closely behind.

You quickly made it to the Box, standing beside Gally as he and Newt opened the doors.

“What the hell?” You whispered as everyone crowded around the Box, Thomas pushing his way to the front.

“It’s another girl.” Newt said, looking up to the group in confusion, and to you briefly. “I think she’s dead...”

The girl was fair, long dark hair slightly covering her face. She was unconscious, but thankfully she was still breathing from what you could see. You looked to her hand, seeing that there was something she was clutching onto. “What’s in her hand?”

Newt leaned over and gently grabbed what was in her hand, a piece of paper. “She’s the last one...ever.” Newt read, once again looking up in confusion.

The girl mumbled in her state, and you could’ve sworn you heard your name come from her mouth. “Did you hear-”

The girl gasped loudly, interrupting your question and causing everyone to jump in shock, her eyes opening wide. “Thomas.” She panted, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and falling back into unconsciousness.

Everyone looked to Thomas, who looked just as in shock as all the other Gladers.

“Y/N, help me bring her up, will ya?” Newt asked.

“Why me?”

“Well, you’re...ya know...” You rolled your eyes, reluctantly hopping down into the Box and helping Newt carry the girl out and handing her over to the Med-jacks care. Thankfully, your arm was mostly healed from Ben’s attack, well, the sprained part anyway. “We’ve got it from here, Y/N, thank you.”

You nodded, but you didn’t leave. You stared at the girl, feeling a familiar feeling, almost like with Thomas. It was different, but the same. You felt a headache coming on just by trying to make sense of this feeling that you don’t remember ever having, but you knew you had nonetheless.

“Y/N?” Newt snapped you out of your trance.

“Uh, sorry. I’ll leave now.”

You left the room in a hurry, almost running into Thomas and Minho in the process. “You good?” Minho asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just feeling a little headache.” You smiled weakly.

Thomas gave you a look, and you knew he wasn’t buying it. But you had a feeling he didn’t have the time to call you out so you pushed past them and headed to the watering station.

You just needed water, that was probably it. You’ll be fine once you have some water.

You sighed in relief once you took some gulps of the water from the faucet. It wasn’t cold, but it still felt nice. Your headache didn’t go away unfortunately.

When you saw Gally walking over to you, part of you just wanted to leave. But knowing him, he probably wouldn’t let you leave so easily without talking to him. You turned around to lean against the makeshift sink, tapping your foot impatiently as you prepared yourself for a probable exhausting conversation.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You huffed.

“Get the girl to the Med-jacks okay?”

“Yep.”

“What happened to your thumb?”

You lifted your hand up to your face, looking over your thumb. The peeled off skin had already scarred over. It didn’t hurt when you didn’t think about it, but now that Gally pointed it out, you felt the pulsing throbs of pain from the little wound.

“Irrelevant. What do you want?” You asked, briefly sucking on your thumb to try and ease the pain.

“What the hell is up with you, huh? I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad at you.” Gally huffed.

“You kept trying to make me believe that Thomas and Minho were already dead, Gally. You didn’t even try to think anything else.” You crossed your arms.

A tense pause before Gally spoke again.

“That was a really stupid thing you did today, you know. Going into the maze.”

You rolled your eyes. “I barely went five feet.”

“Minho was right.” Gally sighed. “I can’t give you special treatment. You’ll have to be punished along with the Greenie.”

“I wouldn’t need or want special treatment anyway, especially from you.”

Gally chuckled bitterly. “Just yesterday you told me you liked me, and now you’re acting like you hate me. God, if that girl acts anything like you-”

“What, huh?” You interrupted harshly.

One of the Builders came running up to you and Gally, panting in exhaustion when he finally reached you. “What is it?”

“That Greenie and a bunch of other Gladers ran into the maze.”

You quickly snapped your head towards your fellow Builder. “What?” You yelped. “When?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

Gally’s face quickly contorted in anger, shaking his head before storming off. “Where are you going?” You asked, struggling to keep up with his long legs.

“Finding Newt. If that Greenie comes back alive, there’s no way he’s not gonna be punished now.”

It was hard to argue with Gally when he set his mind to something, especially when it’s about something that he was probably right about. There was no argument that you could’ve made that would help Thomas, the boy really just loved looking for trouble.

You stopped following after Gally, and went to find Chuck to see him already at the maze doors. “Gally’s on a warpath.”

“What do you mean?” Chuck stuttered, startled by your sudden presence beside him and looking around nervously.

“Thomas went into the maze again, but you already know that, don’t you.” You smirked, causing Chuck to blush. “Gally found out about it. Make sure he knows when he gets back, okay, bud?”

Chuck quickly nodded, nervously smiling as you ruffled his curly hair.

When they got back, you stood outside council hall. You weren’t allowed in the meeting, since it was Keepers only. But you paced back and forth, trying not to bite the same thumb that you did this morning.

You really had to work on your nervous tics.

You looked up expectantly when you heard the building’s doors open, an angry looking Gally storming out and walking past you. “Wait, what happened?” You asked, jogging to keep up with his pace.

“Newt made that shank a Runner.”

You were speechless. A Runner? You didn’t think Thomas would get appointed with such a job so early on. “That’s it?”

Gally suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing you to almost trip and fall when you tried to stop mid jog. “Why are you talking to me, huh? If you hate me, shouldn’t you be ignoring me?” He said, glaring at you as he spoke.

“I never said I hated you. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Gally scoffed. “I’m being dramatic? Yeah, right.” He started to walk again, but you got in his way.

“Gally, wait.” Gally stopped, even though he could’ve easily moved you out of the way. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t hate you. I don’t. I was mad at you, is all.” You looked down nervously from his intense gaze.

Gally sighed softly, gently bringing you into a hug, tender much like the one he gave you yesterday. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or anything.”

“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly. “So, what was the verdict?”

Gally scratched the back of his neck and bit his lip nervously. “Uh, well, a night in the Pit with no food or water.”

“For him?”

“For both of you.” You closed your eyes and nodded, you weren’t really surprised. “I would’ve tried to lessen your punishment if we had made up earlier.”

You shook your head and smiled. “It’s alright, Gal. I can handle the Pit. It’s not like I haven’t spent a couple nights there anyway.”

Gally grinned and chuckled, starting to walk to the Builder’s area right beside you, making sure that you could keep up with him. “Right, right, I remember. You certainly taught Winston to never catcall you ever again. Poor shank couldn’t even walk right for days after you kicked him.”

“Shouldn’t have commented on my tits.” You shrugged, smirking slightly as you remembered Gally’s laugh when it happened.

“It was pretty badass, in my opinion.” Gally playfully knocked himself against you.

“Alby didn’t seem to think so.”

“You shouldn’t have been punished for that. Even I thought it was stupid.”

“Thanks, Captain.” You smiled softly, the smile itching to grow wider when Gally’s face flushed red.

“The girl’s awake!”

You and Gally both turned to see all the Gladers surrounding the watch tower, all ducking the various rocks that were being thrown off. “That’s probably not good...” You mumbled, taking off with Gally towards the commotion.

As soon as you both got to the base of the tower, it didn’t even take a minute before Gally got frustrated with the girl. But you were more frustrated even more by all the boys that seemed to be having fun. You understood how the girl was feeling after all.

“Guys, maybe we should give her some space!” You tried yelling over the ruckus, to no avail.

Not really a surprise there.

Seeing Newt in the crowd, you walked up to him while trying to dodge the rocks in the process. “I don’t think she likes us very much.” He chuckled when he noticed you next to him.

“Well no wonder, she’s probably terrified. You guys aren’t even giving her time to adjust here.”

“We just wanna know why she’s here, that’s all! I didn’t think being curious was a crime!” Fry voiced.

“It’s not! But we’ll have to ask her when she’s ready.” You insisted, then yelping in pain when a rock landed on top of your head. “Ow...”

“Throw one more of those things!” Gally yelled, quickly being interrupted by a rock landing on his head. You tried not to laugh at the comedic timing...

Thankfully, the Med-jacks brought Thomas back from wherever he was and you quickly ran to him. “Go on and talk to her, Greenie.”

“What? Why me?”

“She said your name, Thomas. Out of all the guys here, you’ll be the one she talks to...probably.”

“Not to butt in,” Jeff voiced from beside you, “but she was saying your name in her sleep too.”

“Uh, what?”

~~~~~~~~~~

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

Two Bisexuals Are Your Co-Captains

ao3

“I solved racism,” Mariner says, kicking open the ready room door. This should not be physically possible, as doors have progressed past the need to be opened, and are, in fact, automatic.

Boimler, whose face is currently one with the synthetic wooden desk, gives her a thumbs up but doesn’t move beyond that.

“Okay, I lied, I didn’t solve racism,” Mariner admits. “It’s still a problem in our galaxy. But, I did solve our captain problem!” she tries. This does get Boimler to remove his face from it’s fixture on the desk.

“You did?” he blinks up at her, creases in his face from where it had been smooshed against the hard surface.

Mariner dumps an honest-to-god paper file on his desk. “Check it out, twink.”

Boimler swipes the file, frowning as nothing happens when he taps it. Mariner helps him out, flipping the cover over. “So there’s this really nifty rule back from like 2039 that allows for two acting captains to co-pilot the ship simultaneously.”

“Are you serious?” Boimler groans.

“As Legato Infection,” Mariner confirms. “It was apparently instated for missions where the crew is like. Separated or some shit and need more than one captain coordinating. Because Starfleet was also part of the air force for a while, co-captains were basically just co-pilots. Like this was a whole thing. But it got overwritten with the First Officer Act of 2048 that instated First Officers as a fill in instead of a co-captain, able to make decisions and delegate, but it was never technically outlawed. Meaning…”

“We could technically take advantage of the loophole and-”

“Co-Captains!” Mariner punches the air. “You know what this means?”

Boimler blinks at her blankly. Beckett applauds herself over the alliteration, as she throws an arm over his shoulder. “It’s our ship,” she whispers dramatically, already envisioning the communist flags with selfies of her and Boimler printed on them.

“Or it could just be your ship,” Boimler says, fear in his eyes.

Beckett grabs his collar, dragging him up to eye level. “Our ship.”

________

“Beckett no,” Freeman says flatly. Ever since The Incident--the one where the ship was overrun with the Pakleds that took out the entirety of senior command--she’s been in medbay, wrapped up in so many bandages she looks like a mummy from one of those really old movies Boimler is obsessed with.

“Beckett yes ,” Mariner says, taking a slurp of her cherry limeade slurpee. “You named me First Officer!”

“Then why does Boimler-”

“Ransom also named him First Officer!”

“So your brain jumped to Co-Captains ?” Mariner can’t see her mom’s expression, but from her squinty eyes she’s pretty sure it’s disapproving. “That is the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“You can’t call your daughter dumb!” Mariner throws her hands up in the air.

“Mariner, you’re dumb.”

“That’s against parent rules! Everything I do is supposed to be a fucking delight!”

Freeman turns her judgy eyes to Boimler, who had been staring off into the middle distance, probably traumatized by all of the shrieking the mother and daughter duo had been doing since they entered medbay. Whatever, it’s not Mariner’s fault that her mom’s kneejerk reaction to her daughter charging into medbay with a bat'leth and no shirt on was to shriek like a goddamn banshee.

“You know what,” Freeman says, eyes locked on Boimler. “I’m already having a bad fucking week. Go ahead, make it worse I dare you .”

“Uhm-”

“We absolutely will do that,” Beckett promises, crossing her heart.

_____

“ ATTENTION ALL PERSONAL ,” Mariner says, over the ship’s speakers. D’Vana, from her position at the First Officer’s station, gives her a Disappointed Look. Mariner gives her a thumbs up back.

“ DUE TO OUR EXCRUCIATING CIRCUMSTANCES AND THE LACK OF COMMUNICATION BETWEEN YOUR FORMER CAPTAIN AND HER FIRST OFFICER, ENSIGN BOIMLER AND I WILL BE YOUR CO-CAPTAINS TONIGHT. OR FOREVER, WE HAVEN’T DECIDED YET.”

“Mariner, what are you doing?” Boimler says, storming onto the Bridge. Mariner, who had hacked the Bridge speakers to play Demi Lovato’s Confident every time Boimler entered, is pleased to note that nobody had figured out how to turn that off yet. Unfortunately for her, however, Boimler didn’t recognize his girlboss powers, and had been yelling at her every time it happened.

“I’m letting the ship know about our change in command, oh Co-Captain of mine,” Mariner says over the booming bass and Demi Lovato’s dulcet tones. In the corner of her eye, the vulcan side character that everyone thought was a Cool Guy, bopped his head to the music.

Boimler sighs, pressing his palms into his eyes. “So we’re actually doing this?”

“Dude, I already made us friendship jackets. That shit had a no refunds policy.” She pulls a leather jacket that had been draped over their helmsman's head--bad for ship navigation, but good for dramatic effect--and throws it at Boimler. Boimler unfolds the pink monstrosity, sighing deeply at the neon-yellow glitter words Gatekeep Girlboss Gaslight emblazoned on the back.

“Is this really necessary?”

“It’s ABSOLUTELY necessary,” Mariner says, standing up. She turns around, showing Boimler her purple jacket which says Malewife Mansplain Manipulate in snot-green glitter.

“HOW DOES THAT MATCH.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HOW DOES THAT MATCH.” Her voice echoes strangely, alerting her to the fact that the shipwide comms are still in use. She reaches over, flicking the switch off and turns back to Boimler, hands on her hips. “Is this an anxiety thing again? Do you need to go back on medication?”

“I don’t need to be on meds!”

“Then why won’t you wear our super secret special jackets!”

“Because mine is hot pink and says girlboss on the back!”

Mariner lets out a gasp. “Are you saying... Boimler are you adhering to GENDER ROLES?”

“No-no stop it -”

“You! You of ALL PEOPLE-”

“Mariner, cut it out!”

“LET IT BE KNOWN THAT BRAD BOIMLER IS A-”

Boimler pulls the jacket on so violently that he somehow elbows himself in the eye. The pink really does go with his hair-which Mariner knows for a fact he dyes himself every three weeks. “There! Happy?”

“So so happy.” Mariner hands him a martini from the tray she had brought in and nailed to the arm of the captain’s chair. The one she hands to Boimler has a rainbow umbrella in it. “So, first order of business. I think we need car seats for short people.”

“Excuse me.”

Mariner picks up her own martini glass and takes a chug, choking on the strawberry chunks she had grinded into it a few minutes before Boimler got here. “You know, car seats? That shit you put babies in because cars are a danger to humanity but we keep buying them? I think the shorties on this ship deserve some protection.”

Boimler drains his glass. “Fine, whatever, I don’t even care anymore.”

______

Mariner is commissioning the previously mentioned communist flags with hers and Boimler’s faces printed on them, when Tendi comes into the ready room. She is wearing the face of complete and utter defeat that everyone else had been wearing since the Co-Captains had been instated. Mariner insists it’s because they’re sad that she and Boimler wouldn’t get to be captains forever. Boimler says it’s because everyone’s writing their suicide notes to their familes.

“Mariner, we need to talk,” Tendi says, using the opening line to every break up Mariner’s been a part of and seen on tv. Which is really weird because she didn’t think she and Tendi were in a relationship.

“I’m all ears,” Mariner says, which is a dumb fucking line because clearly she isn’t , but people say that all the time.

“I don’t want to be your First Officer,” Tendi says, crossing her arms. “It was fun for the first week, but after you made it mandatory to do the Macarena during the first ten minutes of each hour, morale has been down.”

“Hmm,” Mariner pets Boimler’s therapy cat, Dishwasher, thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll make that one optional. Any other requests?”

Tendi sighs. “No,” she admits. “To be honest, the ship is running at 98%, which is the highest any ship in Starfleet has ever run. I think Brad orgasmed when he heard about that.”

“You call him Brad ?” Mariner stares up at her friend, aghast.

“That’s his name?”

“Yeah, and his cat’s name is Dishwasher , but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to call her that!” Dishwasher growls at her name. Mariner shushes her, hands clamped over her ears. “She turns into a murder-rage machine when you call her by her given name! How do we know Boimler isn’t the same?”

“Because I call him Brad all the time!” Tendi hisses back, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Oh my god, he’s probably serial killing as we speak. I hope you’re ready to talk to the victim’s families and let them know that their loved one’s died because you couldn’t help yourself.”

Tendi stares at Mariner for a full minute. “Resignation,” she reiterates, pointing at Mariner. “I want to be a gross ensign scrubbing the deck again. Nepotism sucks .”

“Fine, you’re demoted. Go enjoy mediocrity.”

“I will.” Tendi storms out, kicking the door shut. Which again, is completely, 100% impossible because it’s the 23rd century or whatever-Mariner’s not keeping count-and automatic doors are now a Thing.

Mariner hacks their speaker systems to play the Wii Shop Channel Music-a reliac of the past only alluded to on private groupchats and servers- to play whenever Tendi entered a room. It’s the least she could do.

______

“As your First Officer,” a reluctant Rutherford says reluctantly, “I am here to remind you that that would be a very bad idea .”

“Rutherford, who’s the boss around here?” Mariner asks, hands on her hips.

Rutherford sighs. “You.”

“And as the boss, who makes all the decisions around here?”

Another sigh. “ You .”

“Then why are you being a killjoy over my decision to get down and dirty with my Co-Captain?”

Rutherford makes a shriek-y noise, like those boys who got their testicles cut off in the old days so they could sing opera. “Mariner, I’m serious, don’t do it .”

“Is it against regulation?”

“No,” Rutherford groans. “You’re both the same rank-”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You can’t sleep with Boimler just because you can!”

“That’s not why I’m going to sleep with Boimler,” Mariner waves him off. “I was sitting on his lap the other day-”

“Oh my god -”

“-in the Captain's chair--ooh we should look into getting another one of those, TWO chairs are better than one--”

“Mariner, to the point please.”

“Oh, yeah, so I’m in his lap and I maay have backed up a little too far and bumped up against-”

“Stop literally stop .”

“Yeah, so turns out Boimler is PACKING and I gotta hop on that train, so to speak.”

“Okay, you know what?” Rutherford shoves his padd at Mariner. “I quit, I can’t do this. I want to be a lower decks ensign again.”

“Wow, you’re like, the seventeenth person this week to quit. Which, coincidentally, is exactly how long I’ve been captain.”

“Yeah, weird coincidence,” Rutherford deadpans.

_____

“I may have fucked up, Mom,” Mariner shrieks, waltzing into medbay with all the grace of a duck pulling off a white bread heist. “I think you should take captaincy back.”

Freeman, who had fully recovered two days ago, but refused to engage in the chaos Mariner was purposely causing on her ship, looks up from where she’s reclining with her long island ice tea and swimwear magazines. “Really now?”

“ Yes . All of my friends hate me and I found out Boimler has purple pubs.”

Freeman almost drops her drink. “ What .”

“Tell me about it. Don’t get me wrong, we’re still fucking, but like. Wow, I thought he dyed everything. Turns out that shit is natural.”

Freeman covers her face with one hand. “No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re keeping the ship.”

“WHAT.”

“I already spoke to your father,” Freeman gives her daughter a shark-like smile. “We agreed that this position of authority has been good for you. And, considering, the ship is running better than any ship in Starfleet since the inception of the Federation, the Admiralty wants you and Boimler to stay on.”

“ WHAT .”

“They think it’s an interesting social experiment that merits more research. Congratulations, you and your fuck-buddy are now ginnypigs.”

___

“I think, as a sign of protest, we should rename the ship,” Mariner says, draped across the desk in the ready room. Boimler, sprawled out all over the desk chair, snorts. The room has been completely revamped in pride flags and the previously mentioned communist flags. Mariner thinks it’s her best interior design work, but Boimler claims it’s an eyesore.

“What would we name it?” he asks, humoring her.

Mariner considers it, taking a swig of vodka. “Okay, hear me out. Q and Picard’s Loveboat.”

Boimler grabs the bottle out of her hand, taking a chug. “You know what? This might as well happen.”

They submit the formal request on Boimler’s padd a few minutes later and are both pleasantly-at least in Mariner’s case-surprised that it goes through. It’s likely that the guy in charge of filtering these requests is either very very bored or very very underpaid and either way Mariner likes his energy.

A few days later, they have Q AND PICARD’S LOVEBOAT stamped across the side of the ship in comic sans-a truly underappreciated font from ye olden days that Mariner dug up one night on the wayback machine.

It takes exactly four weeks for the Admiralty to catch wind of it-by then she and Boimler had been Co-Captains for almost two months-and, well, there isn’t much they can do about it.

She does receive a rather long voicemail from her dad that she promptly deletes. She’s not about that energy.

_____

“Boims, Boims, Boims,” Mariner chants, crawling into his bed. Boimler lets out a shriek as her ice cold toes slide up against his bare thigh.

“So you know how our ship got renamed so easily?” she says, once Boimler had stopped screaming. “Well, I found the dude who approved it. Nice kid, I want his gender. Anyway, looks like my dad is getting a new ship and they're getting someone to christen it.”

“Oh my god,” Boimler says faintly, turning his face into his pillow.

“I may have gotten us on the list of possible people to christen it. As in, the kid hacked the server for me and we're the only people on that list.”

Boimler looks like he's regretting everything ever. He also looks like he's kind of in love with her. Mariner inspires that kind of duality in people. “What are we going to name it?” his voice has a tinge of fear in it that both of them get off on. The kink is strong with this couple.

Mariner grins.

_______

THE DADMIRAL: ACT OF REBELLION OR GENIUS?

Ash H. Beiggs

Many of you may remember the highly criticized decision Starfleet made when instating “Co-Captains” on the starship Q and Picard’s Loveboat ( formally known as the USS CERRITOS). Well, Captains Bradward P. Boimler and Beckett E. Mariner are back with bigger and bolder headlines to make.

The chaotic young duo are renowned Federation-wide not only for running the tightest ship in Starfleet, but for their unorthodox methods. Captain Mariner in particular has been praised for her innovating thinking and usual personality. When asked about her decision to name Admiral Mariner’s ship The Dadmiral she simply claimed that “Mohammad had his mountain, Jesus had his followers and [she] had a molotov cocktail and nothing to lose.” Captain Boimler declined to comment.

The actual christening of The Dadmiral was reported as a “spectacle to behold” by many onlookers. Captain Mariner was seen streaking through the aforementioned ship, with a bottle of vodka in one hand. Her Co-Captain was not far behind her, but was reportably more restrained. The actual christening was completed by Captain Mariner who “yeeted the vodka” into the ships warp core, shouting “ One of us. One of us,” in rapid succession until she was removed by security.

Neither Admiral Mariner or Captain Freeman are available to comment at this time.

[everamazingfe]

The Kumbaya Approach

Fic Summary: Trevor is the captain of his own ship and is in need of a new pilot when his old one abandons the crew. Fortunately, his trusty engineer Gavin knows of a good one. Unfortunately, the cargo he brings along with him is a little more dangerous than they anticipated. 

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Words: 15113 Pairings: Michael/Jeremy, Trevor/Alfredo Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence and blood

Notes: This was written for the Secret Springfairy fic exchange in the @rtwritingcommunity discord for @doolray! This was a ton of fun to write, I hope you enjoy, and big thanks to @fornhaus for proofreading/editing! Check the source for a link to read it on A 0 3!

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“What do you mean you quit?” 

“I mean I quit. I’m done with this bucket of bolts. Every day there’s a new problem, a new critical failure, a new busted part, and I’m sick of it! What kind of commander can’t get a handle on his own ship?”

“Hey! Those problems aren’t my fault, it’s the-”

“-The ship’s AI, right. Heard that one a thousand times. But they’re part of the crew, too. Which means they’re your responsibility. And if you can’t keep them under control and keep your ship in shape, I’m out of here at the next port.” 

The arguments had gone on like this for several days, nearly a week now, and it was the same thing every time. Jeremy would yell about how he was sick of being on the ship and lay down blame for its problems, and Trevor would defend himself against the barrage of insults instead of trying to change the other’s mind. He knew that was a futile effort, and he knew better than to fight losing battles.

The pair were silent for a long time, staring each other down. Jeremy was looking for a reason to get more wound up, to start yelling all over again. Telling off his commander for mistakes that everyone had seemingly let slide for far too long felt really good, and he wanted to keep going. Meanwhile, Trevor was calming down and calculating his next move very carefully. It was fine if his crew wanted to question his authority, they did it plenty and he never took it personally. But as far as he was concerned, Jeremy was no longer crew and no longer privy to that same mercy. After all, he’d quit.

“Fine. You can empty your quarters out and sleep in the observation deck, then. You’re no longer a member of this crew, so you no longer get to stay in crew cabins,” he stated after a few long moments, his tone cold. 

Jeremy blinked in surprise, not expecting Trevor to actually do anything about it. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. You don’t get a room anymore, those are reserved for the crew. If you’re unhappy with that arrangement, I can tell Lindsay to get the airlock open for you.” 

“You know... If I leave, Michael’s gonna go with me. He goes where I go,” he reminded, though he was no longer yelling confidently. He was stumbling and faltering. Trevor had called his bluff effectively, and it was hard to keep up steam. 

“Then you can help each other clean out your quarters and keep each other warm on the deck,” he responded, shrugging casually. “Finding a new science officer will be just as easy as finding a new pilot.”

“And just how do you expect to get to the next port safely?”

Trevor chuckled softly, smiling. “Lindsay is more than equipped with satisfactory navigational skills, isn’t that right Linds?”

The comms system beeped to life, and a cheerful voice was heard over the speakers. “That’s right, Commander! Jack’s charting us a course as we speak. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

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

There was some truth to Lindsay’s words. They were equipped with the best-in-the-market autopilot functionality, but Jack was not charting a course. The entirety of the crew was gathered around a large monitor in the communications bay, watching the whole ordeal unfold through Lindsay’s eyes. There were bets on how it would end. Most of the money was on it ending in blows at this point. 

“Like hell I’m going with him!” Michael shouted, waving his hands and scoffing in disbelief as he looked at the screen. “I’m not idiot enough to throw away a good job when I’ve got it. I mean, sure the place is a shithole, no offense Linds-” 

“None taken.”

“-But like… It’s not like we have to do anything. If I try and find another crew, they may make me do actual work! Can you imagine? I am not going anywhere.”

“I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice,” Jack said from beside him, the others all nodding in agreement. “I think you’re gonna have to go with him.” 

Michael huffed, rolling his eyes and turning up the volume on the terminal. “If there’s one thing you fuckers should’ve learned about me right now, it’s this: I don’t have to do shit. Especially not for my boyfriend.” 

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

Jeremy grumbled to himself as he packed up his things. Michael was, of course, no help. He just stood in the doorway and spectated, making snide remarks when he saw fit. 

“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you could be on my side with this,” Jeremy said, balling up a shirt and throwing it at him. “Or at the very least, help me pack.”

Michael laughed, knocking away the shirt before it hit him in the face. “Fuck no, you dug this hole yourself. I’m not the moron who quit.”

“This place is a shithole and you know it.”

“Yeah, but you never have to fix any of it! You just have to sit there in your comfy pilot chair and wait for Gavin to do it.” Had Michael always been a little jealous of his boyfriend’s job? A little bit. The med bay was cold and unwelcoming, but the cockpit was cushy and warm. Plus, with Lindsay on board, the pilot didn’t really have to do much at all unless their systems went down. Which, to be fair, did happen a lot. “You pilots are always so snooty. You knew what you were getting into when you took this gig, you can’t expect it to be like the Ritz now.”

“Just fucking go,” Jeremy muttered, swiping up the last of his clothes from the floor. “Don’t even bother visiting, either.” The comment hurt them both, but that didn’t make him mean it any less. He didn’t want Michael to visit, he wanted him to stay at the port with him. 

The other just laughed heartily and shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

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

The observation deck was, as it always was, cold and lonely. The warm blankets and fluffy pillows that were on his bed were technically part of the quarters he had previously taken residence in, so all Jeremy had to sleep on was the metal floor, cushioned by his clothing and a few other soft belongings. The things that he owned that were unfit for laying on were stacked around him. The observation deck’s window was huge, and as he laid there unable to sleep, the vastness of space no longer brought him the same comfort it had when he was in the pilot’s seat. 

“Hey, Lindsay?”

The comms beeped to life once more. “Yes, Jeremy?”

“Am I making a mistake?” He asked, sitting up and leaning back against the stack. 

There were a few long seconds of contemplative silence before they spoke again. “Yeah, you are. A huge one, I’d say.”

“That’s not really comforting... I don’t suppose Trevor would be willing to… Reconsider?”

“No, I don’t think so. You insulted the ship. The commander takes that personally.” Lindsay did too, but they figured that Jeremy already felt guilty enough without them piling on as well. 

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it.” 

“Do I, though? Because I really don’t think I do,” they stated. Maybe Jeremy didn’t feel as guilty as they had hoped, so their politeness parameters were temporarily suspended. “This is a ship made from stolen parts, what do you expect? For everything to run perfectly all the time? If you wanted that, you should’ve signed up for one of the legal spacefarers out there,” they quipped. If they had eyes, they would have rolled them. 

Jeremy sighed heavily, sinking down the wall and burying his face in his hands. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take Trevor up on that airlock offer, he was sure he’d be happy to oblige.

“Is Michael going with you?” Lindsay asked after a few minutes, breaking the silence and sounding innocent enough. Jeremy couldn’t tell whether they wanted a yes or a no, but there was no use lying to them. They’d seen Jeremy packing alone, his quarters empty while Michael’s were still very much full. 

“No,” he responded, shaking his head, “No, he’s not. He’s gonna be staying on board.”

“Oh, good. I like him. I’d be sad if he left.”

“But you’re not sad that I’m leaving?” There was no response to his words, just the comms beeping to signal that Lindsay wouldn’t be answering more of his questions. Jeremy sighed again and lowered his hands, staring back out at the stars. “I don’t even think that Michael’s sad that I’m leaving,” he muttered to himself, laying back down in his pile of clothes and shoving an old jacket under his head for a makeshift pillow.

He couldn’t exactly blame him for it, either. Maybe he could’ve been a better boyfriend, maybe he should’ve just bitten his tongue and held back whatever criticisms he had of Trevor and the ship. But part of this felt like it was inevitable, like he was always going to blow up like this. The worst part was that he didn’t even feel guilty about any of it, he was only sorry that speaking up had the consequences that it had. It was hard to have any regrets about it when he fully believed he was doing the right thing, though.

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

It only took them another week to reach the nearest spaceport, some podunk trading and tourist hub located pretty centrally to all the bigger colonies. Trevor liked it because they’d be able to stock up on supplies without having to scrounge or overpay. That was something that desperately needed doing, the last few ports had single rations sold for thousands of credits or reasonably priced ones that were nearly a century past date. Plus, they’d have pretty good odds at finding a replacement pilot there too. Jeremy liked it because it didn’t seem like the worst place to be booted onto, he could find work with another crew or in the port pretty easily. Everyone else liked it because being at port meant a few days of rest. Lindsay didn’t have to worry about some of the more power-hungry systems that came with flying a ship, which meant that Gavin didn’t have to run around making patchwork repairs at every hour of the day. But for some, their work didn’t stop. Matt always had to keep his ear to the radio for any incoming transmissions, and Michael and Fiona could only leave their experiments and samples unattended for so long before there were catastrophic results.

Reaching port this time was different this time around, though. They’d never had to say goodbye to one of their own before. Jeremy had been permitted one last night on the ship, but in the morning he’d have to go. To honor that last night, Gavin and Michael decided to organize a going away party for their fellow lad, complete with drinks and proper food (not just freeze-dried rations that pretended to be edible) and parting gifts. 

It made Jeremy feel better about going when he saw how sad everyone seemed to be, how sincere they were in expressing how much they would miss him. He’d convinced himself that they all hated him for speaking out the way that he had, no one had come to speak to him in the observation deck and the only time he saw anyone was when he was brought his rations, but the party was a good indication that they didn’t hate him: they just pitied him. 

Michael was certainly the most upset, despite the fact that he’d pretended to be unbothered only a week prior. Even if they had to do it from lightyears away, they promised each other they’d find a way to make things work. The communication technology was there, they’d still be able to talk. Michael was just glad that he wouldn’t have to worry too much about Jeremy while he was gone. It was a busy port, there’d be plenty of people around looking to hire a skilled pilot. And even if he couldn’t find work right away, it was safe enough that he could stay there for a while without running into any trouble unless he went looking. 

Despite all the fun of the festivities, Trevor’s absence was hard to miss. Jeremy had to admit that he’d been foolish for expecting it, but not getting a final goodbye from his former commander stung. 

However, Trevor had decided that his day was best spent working instead of partying, arranging for fresh shipments of supplies to be loaded into the cargo bay and beginning his search for a new pilot. The first task was successful, the latter one… Not so much. No one was really giving him the time of day, not believing him when he told them he captained his own ship and could afford to pay handsomely for work. Or they simply weren’t interested in the cargo that would need to be transported. After he was fed a lot of bullshit from people who clearly didn’t know anything trying to weasel their way onto his ship, he reached his limit and returned to the ship, thoroughly disheartened by the end of the night.

Trevor spent the evening in his quarters, agonizing over the situation for a few hours. There were a few solid candidates when he looked past all their unfavorable qualities, but he still wasn’t thrilled about any of them. Everyone was busy partying with Jeremy, he was grateful for the peace while he tried to work something out. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was Lindsay’s chime. Usually that signaled that he’d been working for too long and it was time to get some rest, so he began to stand up, stretching his arms out over his head to ease away the stiffness.

“Commander, Gavin’s outside the door. Should I let him in?” They asked, sending a feed to his terminal of the lad standing outside the doors. He sat back down slowly, squinting as he looked at the grainy footage on the screen. 

“Does he look like he’s carrying any stink bombs? I can’t tell.” 

There were a few moments of silent examination before the comms beeped to life again. “Nope, he’s clear.” 

Trevor waved in approval then, twisting around in his chair to face the door. “Let him in, then.” 

The doors slid open to reveal Gavin standing there, fortunately empty-handed, with a smile on his face. “Commander! Missed you at the party, you should’ve been there! I saved you a bev, if you want it.” 

“No thanks. Some of us had actual work to do, y’know.” He paused, looking the other up and down. It was always hard to read Gavin, he was always brimming with so much energy, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was excited stimming or covering up for anxious nerves. There was no telling what he wanted to share. “I really hope you didn’t come here just to chastise me for not going to a party for someone who couldn’t stop insulting the ship every chance he got.”

“Nah, I get it. No one insults our Lindsay and gets away with it. But… I do think I can help with some of your problems.” Trevor arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “I know a pilot at this port. He’s one of the best. Well, actually, he is the best. And! He owes me a favor! So he’ll definitely be taking the job.”

“If he’s the best, how can you be sure he’s not currently in a crew?”

Gavin laughed at that, and Trevor’s face turned to one of confusion. “He’s rather picky about the jobs he takes. And, like I said: He owes me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, biting his lip as he thought it over. Gavin hadn’t led him astray before, it was how they’d ended up with Michael and Fiona on the crew, but it all felt a little too good to be true. Coincidences made him uneasy, but what choice did he have? “How soon can I meet him?”

“Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“I’d like to, yeah. After breakfast. Lindsay, set an alarm for the engineering bay to make sure Gavin wakes up in time.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Hey!”

Trevor grinned as the other pouted. “Anything else, Gav?”

Gavin flipped him off before breaking out into a grin of his own. “Nope! That’s it. I should get back to the engines ‘case they bust again, but I’m happy to be of service. See you tomorrow, Trev.”

“See you tomorrow, Gavin. Get some rest, don’t stay up too late pestering Matt.”

“Will do, won’t do, goodnight!”

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

The next morning came soon enough, the crew having breakfast together for a change since Michael had been kind enough to grab some fresh ingredients and cook them a nice meal. It was refreshing to have real food, not just the usual freeze-dried rations or nutrient slurries they normally relied on. And real coffee was always a treat, though no one would dare insult Fiona’s synthesized seaweed coffee replacement for fear of losing the one caffeine source they had between stops. 

After the meal, Gavin and Trevor set out as planned. They had a pilot to search for, and the lad wouldn’t stop ranting and raving about how great this guy was supposed to be. Trevor just hoped that he was going to live up to all the hype.

“When you said this guy is picky about the jobs he takes, just how picky did you mean?” He asked as they searched through the first hotspot. There were a few places this mysterious pilot liked to hang out in apparently, and there was no telling which one he’d be at. 

Gavin chuckled softly, glancing over at Trevor with a smile until he realized he was being serious. Then, he just shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. He won’t complain about the ship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Kind of. I just want to make sure he’s not too high class to run the sort of jobs we run.”

“Oh, trust me. He’s not. He is exactly low class enough to run these sort of jobs. But, y’know, like everyone else he wants to make sure the money’s real, and that he’s not gonna end up space dust.” 

“Fair enough.” Those were reasonable requests, and ones that were easy enough for Trevor to guarantee. No one on his crew ever ran out of credits, and no one had gotten seriously injured on a job. The ‘on the job’ part was the most important part of that sentence, because injuries did still happen around the ship, despite everyone’s best efforts. 

Spots two and three were as equally bust as the first one, but Gavin was just as determined as he’d been at breakfast. Trevor, not so much. It was well past mid-day by the time they reached the fifth spot, some sort of hotel and lounge for people to catch their breath and put their feet up. 

The moment they stepped in the door, there was a big beaming grin on Gavin’s face. “Fredo!” He shouted, raising his arms as he cheered. “Took us long enough to find you!”

The man in question was seated casually on a sofa, nose buried in a magazine, though his attention was broken by Gavin’s shouting cutting through the ambiance. “Gavin?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he set his magazine aside and stood. “What the hell are you doing so far out?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit of a long story,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss the question as he walked up to the man and wrapped an arm around him. He dragged him over to Trevor, still beaming. “Trevor, this is Alfredo. Best pilot on this side of the universe. On both sides, probably, but he doesn’t like to brag. And Alfredo, this is Trevor. He’s the big boss of the Morrigan.”

“I, uh… Yeah, that’s me. I’m the cap- The commander.”

“Cat got your tongue, Commander?” Alfredo asked, smirking as the other’s face tinted red. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else and chat. There’s way too many people listening in out here.”

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

They ended up in Alfredo’s room, crowded around the small table underneath a dim light. However, Trevor didn’t need a lot of light to get a read on someone, and he noticed a lot of things about their potential new pilot in a short time. He didn’t fidget like Gavin did, each movement seemed like it was with purpose, but sometimes he’d flex his fingers and roll his wrists. It told him that he was as experienced as Gavin said, because Jeremy had started to do the same thing after a long time behind the helm. His jacket was well worn, the red still bright in some spots but faded in others, and patched in places where it’d been damaged. That told him that Alfredo wasn’t afraid of a fight, and he was resourceful enough to not let good things go to waste. All good things, in his book. 

“So, what’s your offer?” Alfredo asked, breaking the silence once they’d all gotten settled around the table. 

“My… Offer?” 

“Yeah. If I work for you, what do I get?”

Trevor and Gavin looked at each other for a moment, the latter stunned by the bluntness of the question, but the former was used to unprofessionalism like that. In fact, he preferred it. “Well, for starters, a spot on the ship. You get your own private quarters. However, you really are there as a backup to our ship’s computer in case things get extra… Challenging. They’re good, but there’s limits to every AI.”

Alfredo’s eyebrows raised at that. He’d never been on a ship that had a computer like that on it before. “Sounds like a fancy ship.”

Gavin snorted out a laugh, shaking his head quickly. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s all cobbled together, and the only reason we ended up with Lindsay was because their system was gonna be salvage otherwise.” 

“Right…” He cleared his throat, looking back to Trevor. “What about money?”

“We all get an equal cut of the credits. We’re all important on the Morrigan, no one gets more or less than anyone else.” Everyone put in a lot of work to keep the ship running smoothly, sometimes Trevor felt like he wasn’t doing enough in comparison. Every now and then, he’d take less from his own cut to give everyone else a little more. It felt fair. “And we kind of just go wherever when we’re not running jobs.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few moments, thinking things over. He knew he owed Gavin a favor, but at the same time this whole deal seemed too good to be true. No commander was ever this reasonable, this good to his crew. “Can you go wait outside for a minute? I’d like to talk to Gavin,” he said finally, and Trevor was happy to oblige. He didn’t take his eyes off the other man until the door closing forced him too, then they were fixed on Gavin. “This smells like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you Fredy, it’s not. We all get an equal cut, the rooms are pretty damn lush, and the jobs are alright. I don’t do much but patch up the ship after them, but we haven’t had any major hull breaches yet.” He seemed quite proud of himself for that, but deflated when Alfredo didn’t respond in kind. 

“Yeah, but what about your last pilot? What happened to them? No one just leaves a gig this good.”

“Ah, well… Actually, some do. There were a few… Disagreements. He wasn’t happy on the ship, and Trevor doesn’t like when people insult the Morrigan, or Lindsay,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t sure either of the men involved would be happy if the story started to get spread. “But it’s a good ship, a good crew, and Trevor’s a good man. Plus, you owe me.”

“I know, and that’s the worst part!” He groaned, slumping forward with his face in his hands. “I hate owing you, you always make people pay you back in the worst possible ways!”

“Oi! I’m getting you a job!”

“Yeah, and it all sounds shady as shit! I know you’re smugglers, but damn. Trevor’s cold.”

Gavin just chuckled softly, because he couldn’t exactly disagree with him. The commander had his moments, but didn’t everyone? “Look, Fredo. You need this, and we need you. So just… Take the job, would you?” 

Alfredo chewed the inside his lip as he thought it over, letting out a long sigh after a minute. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Gavin said with a grin, clapping Alfredo on the shoulder before yelling for Trevor to come back inside. 

He genuinely couldn’t guess what they had been talking about in there, but judging by the look on Gavin’s face it was something good. “You’ve decided, then?” He asked Alfredo as he took his seat again.

“He has! He said that he’d joi-“

“-Gavin, dude. Let me talk,” he said, swatting at the other man to get him to shut up. “I’ll join your crew, on one condition…” He trailed off, wanting to gauge the other’s response before he continued.

“And that is?” Trevor asked, arching an eyebrow and waiting for him to go on. 

“I have some cargo I need to get off this asteroid. It’ll be a win/win for the both of us: You get to see how good I fly, I get this job off my back, and you, me, and your crew get to split the money.”

It’d be a good reason to get out of the spaceport faster too. Trevor wasn’t planning on leaving until they had a job anyway and now one had fallen right into their laps with a new pilot in hand. “Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, reaching a hand out for Alfredo to shake and smiling across the table at him. It was a genuine smile, the facade of the stern negotiator falling away. 

Alfredo grinned right back at him, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Hell yes.”

“We can get into the details of the job back on the ship, but I wanna introduce you to your new crew first.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love them, Fredo. They’re all brilliant.” 

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

The Morrigan welcomed its commander back onto the ship with a cheerful musical tone, the doors sliding open as he approached with Gavin and Alfredo in tow. 

“Oh, now who’s this?” Lindsay asked, curious about the new arrival. If they were being honest, they hadn’t expected Gavin to be telling the truth about knowing a pilot, or for Trevor to be convincing enough to get him to join. Their expectations weren’t pessimistic, just realistic. They knew their crew.

“Lindsay! Hey there, perfect timing,” Trevor said with a grin as Gavin scurried off to go gather the rest of the crew. “This is Alfredo, he’s gonna be our new pilot! And Alfredo, this is Lindsay, our ship's computer, and your co-pilot. If you have any questions about the ship, they’ll be the one to ask.”

“That’s right!” They chirped, “Not to brag or anything, but I know more about this ship than anyone, except maybe Gavin. We’re about equal, but don’t tell him I said that!”

Alfredo chuckled, amused by just how much personality this supposed AI had. “Are you sure there’s not a person on the other side of those comms, commander?”

Trevor simply shook his head. “Nope, just a Lindsay!” He answered, motioning for Alfredo to follow him as he led him further into the ship. Doors opened and shut behind them automatically as they went, which meant that Lindsay was keeping a close eye on them. They’d really taken Jeremy’s comments about the ship to heart, and they had to make sure the new guy wasn’t going to say the same thing. 

“No offense, but… How does a ship like this afford a computer like that? I know how much these jobs make, and how much those things cost, and… The math just isn’t adding up.”

The speakers beeped to life with a gentle tone, and Lindsay spoke up for themselves. “I was a rejected version of an even more advanced system, but because of how advanced I still was, they couldn’t just shut me down and wipe out all my data. So, they put me up for sale instead.”

“We got a pretty good deal on them, actually. No one really wants a buggy AI, too much of a risk or whatever, but for a smuggling crew who doesn’t care about perfection, they’re perfect.” The bugs that the programmers had rejected Lindsay for were hardly even bugs in Trevor’s eyes, they were just things that made them too hard to control. There was no speech filter, no way to control them or make them do whatever you wanted, which is why they’d been rejected. You had to treat them like a person, and their programmers had hated that. 

Alfredo was genuinely impressed by the state of the ship, and how smoothly things seemed to run on the surface. Lindsay gave him a quick brief on the engine the ship was powered by and some tips for when he was at the controls to help work around some of its quirks. By the time their spiel was done, they’d reached the bridge where everyone had been gathered so they could get introductions out of the way all at once instead of hunting people down one by one.

The Morrigan was no small ship, and its crew matched it. It was, by far, the largest smuggling ship that Alfredo had ever stepped foot in. Probably the happiest as well. Every role had a person to fill it, and none of them seemed to have many complaints either. 

The first person to speak up and introduce herself was Jack, the ship’s navigations officer. She worked with Lindsay to chart their courses, keeping in mind everything that they’d have to avoid ranging from rogue space debris to the ever annoying authorities. The three of them would be working very closely together, so Alfredo was glad that she spoke up first. 

Michael and Fiona introduced themselves next, the former being the ship’s medical officer and physician while the latter was a scientist. She had her own experiments to run, but she also spent a lot of time helping Michael keep everyone on board the ship healthy. It was a much more difficult task than one would expect, apparently. Alfredo asked Fiona what she was doing on the ship, but she refused to say anything more than “nunya business,” and Trevor insisted that it was better if he didn’t know, so he dropped the subject. 

The communications officer introduced himself after that. Matt was more quiet and reserved than everyone else seemed to be, but he still seemed quite content in his role. It seemed like there wasn’t much to do - there were no aliens trying to make contact, or even that many other ships for that matter - so he spent a lot of his time misusing the comms to catch up on radio shows from Earth or the other space outposts. 

“Alright! Well, feel free to hang out with everyone for a bit,” Trevor said, noticeably relieved that everyone seemed to like Alfredo, and vice-versa. It was a good first step. Gavin was usually a pretty good judge of character, but one could never be too careful. 

“You’re not gonna stick around?” Alfredo asked, frowning a little. “You can’t just leave me alone with these guys.” That comment was hushed, he didn’t want anyone else to hear. 

“Sure I can. I’ve got some work to do, and besides, they don’t bite.” He looked pointedly at Michael. “Usually.” Alfredo whirled around to follow Trevor’s gaze, eyes going wide as Michael snarled at him. The pair broke out into laughter, making Alfredo huff in displeasure.

“That’s not funny, man.”

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist. Just… Relax.” He put his hands on the other’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Everyone here is great, they’re the nicest people on this side of the galaxy. You’re gonna have to get to know them eventually, so you might as well start now. I got some work I gotta do to get us loaded up, but come up to my quarters later. We need to hammer out the details of that job so we can get outta here soon.”

Alfredo nodded slowly, mumbling a confirmation and watching as Trevor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Michael and Gavin slammed a hand down onto each of his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance as they whirled him around. 

“C’mon, Alfredo! We’ve still got some booze leftover from Jeremy’s going away party,” Michael told him with a wicked grin, “Jack makes the best drinks, you gotta try one.”

“I dunno... I just joined, is that really smart?”

“Is what smart?” 

“Drinking.”

“Nah,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head quickly. “Drinking’s always smart, trust me.”

Alfredo rolled his eyes. He knew firsthand that trusting Gavin was a bad idea when it came to alcohol, but on the other hand… Maybe it’d be a good way to get more comfortable around everyone. He was still a little wary, and a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the crew, some help feeling more at ease was definitely welcome. It was called liquid courage for a reason. 

And after a few drinks, he certainly felt more at ease. At the same time, it was weird being accepted so quickly. Sometimes he was stuck on his own, even when he was on a crew. Space had a tendency to be a very lonely and isolating place, it seemed like these people were well aware of the fact, and worked hard to make sure no one fell victim to its clutches. Fiona saw him standing off to the side, trying to edge away from all the excitement, and dragged him right into it. Jack gave him drinks when she spotted an empty cup, alternating between alcoholic and not to make sure he didn’t end up too far gone. And Michael and Gavin were something else entirely, wasting no time in filling him in on the latest ship gossip and ongoing pranks. Ultimately, he decided that he’d made a good choice in trusting Gavin and joining the Morrigan. 

When the festivities died down and everyone began to clean up and retreat to their quarters, Alfredo took it as his sign to go and find Trevor and discuss the job with him. Finding his quarters was easy enough, but he hesitated outside. 

“He already knows you’re there, you know,” Lindsay piped up, giggling when they saw Alfredo jump and search around for the source of their voice. It was all around them, coming through every speaker in that part of the hall. “He’s got a video feed that shows the hall outside of his door. Put it in after Gavin pranked him a few too many times,” they added, this time only speaking from the nearest speaker. 

“Yeah, Gavin’s always been one for pranks.” He stepped closer to the door, but still didn’t go in.

They hummed softly, some sensors whirring in a far off room of the Morrigan. “Why are you hesitating?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because!” Alfredo gestured in exasperation, activating the door’s motion sensor. He jumped again as it slid open, staring through it and making eye contact with Trevor, who was seated at his desk and smiling knowingly. 

“Thank you, Lindsay.”

“Any time, commander! That trick never fails.”

Alfredo looked at Trevor with wide eyes, stammering out an excuse that was immediately waved off. “Just come on in, there’s no use putting it off,” he told him. “The sooner we get things sorted, the sooner we can get out of the port.”

“Why the rush?” He asked as he stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him with a loud thunk. “It’s pretty nice, as far as spaceports go.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a disgruntled former pilot hanging around here now, and I really don’t want him deciding that he wants to get revenge.”

“Fair enough.” Alfredo sat down in the chair across from Trevor, watching him from across the desk. When the other didn’t speak right away, he took it as an opportunity to do so instead. “So, the job. It’s several crates of cargo, will you have enough space in the hold for all of that?”

“How many is several, exactly?”

“About ten, all pretty decently sized. A yard or two each way, at least.”

Trevor chuckled, nodding as he made a note. “Oh yeah, we’ll have plenty of room. I’ve got some supplies getting loaded up tomorrow, if you talk to a man named Geoff at the mercantile he’ll be sure to slip ‘em in, make sure no one suspects anything.”

Alfredo raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s it? No questions about the cargo?”

Trevor let out a long sigh at that, lifting his eyes from his notebook to look at him. “Usually, I don’t want to know. It’s not my business to know. I’m not paid to know,” he explained, waiting until the other nodded in understanding to carry on. “But, since you brought it up, I feel like I should ask… Is it alive?”

“Uh… Yeah, it is.”

“Is it people? Cause I don’t do that shit.”

“What? No. No! It’s… Well, it’s-“

“Is it gonna break out of the crates and kill us in our sleep?”

Alfredo didn’t have an immediate answer to that one. Trevor didn’t find that comforting. 

“Probably not?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, gauging each other’s reactions until Trevor broke the silence. “Works for me! Like I said, talk to Geoff at the mercantile, let him know where you keep everything, he’ll get it all worked out.” He extended his hand, offering it to Alfredo for him to shake. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Alfredo.”

“Likewise,” the other man said, reaching out and giving Trevor’s hand a firm shake. “The Morrigan seems like a real nice ship, I can’t wait to see how they fly.”

With that, Alfredo took his leave, but Trevor kept his eyes on the door long after he walked out. 

The comms beeped to life, and Lindsay spoke from a speaker on Trevor’s desk. “I like him already.”

“Yeah, I do too,” he said whimsically before shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his mind and pointing a finger at the speaker. “I never said that. You didn’t hear that.”

“Of course, Commander. I heard nothing.”

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

The cargo was loaded up without issue the following day. All Alfredo had to do was give the boxes a small mark once they were in the hold, that way they’d know what was the smuggled cargo, but that was an easy enough task. They spent a few more hours at the port, letting everyone do a small tour around for some shopping and giving Michael a chance to say some goodbyes to Jeremy before they set out. 

“Alright, let’s see how this baby flies,” Alfredo said with a grin once he was in the pilot’s seat, cracking his knuckles. This was the one place where he truly felt confident and in his element, and it was so good to be back where he belonged. “Jack, we got a course set?”

“Yup, Lindsay’s got all the info, and there should be a copy of it there on your terminal,” Jack said from her station, turning in her seat to look at Alfredo and give him a thumbs up. She grinned as she got one in return. 

“Sweet. Lindsay, you ready to take off?” 

A few melodic beeps came through the speakers as they checked in with Gavin to make sure the engines were all in working order, then they spoke. “I am! Gavin’s on standby in case anything goes wrong, too.”

“Perfect, start the launch sequence for me, please?”

“Ooh, how polite! I like this one,” they hummed, and Jack laughed softly from her station at the way Alfredo’s cheeks tinged pink. “Sure thing, Fredo. One launch sequence, coming right up!”

The Morrigan shook and creaked as the engines fired up, groaning with effort as the sound roared through the engineering bay and echoed around the spaceport. It was a big ship that required a lot of power to get going, even more so to break away from the gravitational field surrounding the port, and every time they took the crew was terrified that it would come apart at the seams under the pressure. But, like it did every time before, it pulled through, and it wasn’t long until they were up in the atmosphere and out into space. 

“Wow,” Alfredo breathed, slumping back in his chair once things had stabilized. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “Is it always like that?”

Trevor chuckled from behind him, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, pretty much.” He walked up and patted Alfredo on the shoulder, making eye contact with him in the window’s reflection before looking past it at the stars. “Get used to it, buddy.” The clanking of the ship he’d long since learned to tune out, but seeing the stars? It never got old to him. They were just as beautiful every time he saw them, and it was easy to get lost looking at them as they went by. 

“Guess I’m gonna have to.” It was clear that Trevor was lost in thought, so Alfredo just nudged his hand from his shoulder and leaned to look around him at Jack. “How we lookin’? Smooth sailing?”

“Smooth sailing. No asteroids, no authorities, no other ships if we’re lucky. I’ll let you know if that changes, though. It’ll take us a while to get to our next stop, few days at the most.”

“Can this thing handle lightspeed?”

Jack and Lindsay both broke out into laughter, and even Trevor snapped out of his trance to join in. 

“Absolutely not,” Lindsay told him, laughing brightly. They took great pride in the Morrigan, but even they knew its limits. “We’ve been trying to get our hands on a new warp drive for a while now, but no such luck. We’re stuck inside this solar system for the time being, unfortunately.”

“Put my cut from the job towards one, then.” Trevor’s eyebrows shot up, and he met Alfredo’s eyes through the reflection once more. “I’m serious. The further you can travel, the better jobs you can get.” And even for short distances, Alfredo wasn’t really one for travelling at a space snail’s pace. “The better jobs you get, the more money you make.” 

Trevor couldn’t disagree with that logic, so he simply just nodded in approval. “I’ll start putting my cut towards one too, then.” 

“Seriously?” Jack piped up, “like Gavin doesn’t have enough to fix around here?”

The commander turned towards her, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone’s free to spend their cut on whatever they like, and that’s how Alfredo and I are choosing to use ours. Do I say anything when you spend it on baseball cards just cause Geoff and Gav talked about ‘em?”

“No…”

“No, I don’t. So, you mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.” Trevor could take a ribbing as good as the rest of the ship’s crew, but there were some things he just wouldn’t take. The ship was still a very sore subject for him. Jack let out a long sigh but nodded, knowing that there was no use in pushing the matter further. “So, Alfredo. You don’t have to stay here all the time, Lindsay’ll put an alarm out if there’s any immediate threats you’re needed for. I don’t expect you to be sitting here all day, every day. That’d just be mean.”

Alfredo nodded in understanding, spinning around in the chair to get a look at Trevor. “I’ll probably hang out here most of the day, though. Nice view, y’know? Plus I wouldn’t want Lindsay and Jack to get bored,” he joked, cracking a smile. 

“Good plan.” Trevor nodded in approval before he spun around to leave, though he lingered just out of sight. Alfredo was agreeable, almost too agreeable. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the guy, or that he cared if he was a troublemaker, but it was certainly an oddity to have a crewmember that actually wanted to do their job. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. 

Jack scoffed from her seat once she thought Trevor was gone, glancing over at Alfredo from her terminal. “You let him walk all over you, dude.”

“He’s the boss, I’m gonna listen to him,” he responded simply, looking to her for barely a second before his eyes were back on the stars. 

“Yeah, but you can push back a little, he’s not gonna bite your head off for it.”

“He gets enough of that from the rest of you assholes.”

“Whoa, okay. Just trying to help.” 

Alfredo turned in his chair then, meeting Jack’s eyes. “I don’t need your help. Did you hear what Trevor said? ‘You mind your business, I’ll mind mine?’ That goes for me too.” He’d put up with enough bullshit from the other crews he’d been a part of and jobs he’d taken, and he wasn’t going to let this be like the rest of them. He knew the difference between letting himself get pushed over and keeping his head below the fenceline so he didn’t end up losing it. 

They stared each other down for a few long moments, sizing each other up. Jack realized then that she’d misjudged Alfredo. He wasn’t some rookie pilot pulled off the streets, he was the real deal, and he wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone. On the other hand, Alfredo realized that he’d judged Jack correctly, and he didn’t like antagonists much. He knew he’d warm up to her eventually, he had to if he didn’t want this whole thing to fall through, but that was an awfully bad start. 

Lindsay couldn’t stand the tension that was building in the room, making the air so thick that the vent system was having a hard time sucking it up for purification. So they did the only thing they could to break it: Sound a station-wide alarm. Trevor had to come out of his hiding spot then, running up to the main console to check the system. 

“Lindsay, what the hell’s going on?!” He asked, having to shout over the blaring alarm. 

“I don’t know, the alarm just started going off!” They shouted back, sounding panicked, although it was all an act. They pretended to flounder for a moment, making sure that there was enough time for the tension to fade entirely and that Alfredo and Jack had forgotten about their spat before they killed the alarm. “There! All sorted, I think it was just a crossed wire or something. Crazy, huh?” They could tell that Trevor didn’t quite believe them, but at least Jack and Alfredo had gotten back to work. “Maybe you should stick around for a bit, commander. Just to make sure nothing like that happens again.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he took a seat in the commander’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the console in front of him. There was no way to tell what they were playing at, but keeping an eye on the new recruit wasn’t exactly a bad idea, especially if Jack was going to be giving him trouble. “I think you’re right, Lindsay. Can’t be having any trouble on the bridge now, can we? Good call.”

“No commander, we can’t. And thank you.”

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

Things were quiet for a few days. Too quiet. There were the usual pranks and fights and other nonsense, but there were no large scale problems. Any commander would be happy about that and proud of their crew for avoiding disaster, but not Trevor. On the Morrigan, that meant there was a ticking time bomb hidden somewhere on the ship, and it was only a matter of time until it blew. He allowed himself to sleep, but only for a few hours at a time, and when he was awake he was on constant patrol. The previous longest record for going without a major incident was about three days, and it was now encroaching on a week. He wasn’t counting the detour they’d had to make to avoid some random authorities patrolling the system as a major incident, just a minor setback, so they were still due for something. 

When it hit a week since their last incident, he was almost convinced that he could relax, that he could let his guard down and accept that there was nothing waiting just around the bend for him. Almost. Barely a second after that thought crossed his mind, he heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind him.

“Hey, Trevor-boy!” Gavin called out for him, making him spin on his heels. “So, got a bit of a problem for you.” It was weird seeing someone relieved to learn there was a problem, but Trevor certainly looked that way. “There’s a lot of uh… Banging, coming from the storage deck.”

“Have you gone down there to check it out?” He asked, already knowing the answer before he even asked. 

“Absolutely not! Are you insane? Michael won’t go either, before you ask, you’re gonna have to go down there and look,” he informed him, and Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, don’t give me that! We don’t know what Alfredo brought on board, and I’m not trying to get eaten.”

“He promised me it wouldn’t kill us in our sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t kill us when we’re awake, though.”

Trevor sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment as he thought his next words over carefully. “Lindsay?” He called, his attention no longer on Gavin as he began to walk

The speaker system chimed to life, and Lindsay greeted the two of them cheerfully. “Yes, commander?”

“Where’s Alfredo?” 

There was a beat of silence as they checked all of their ocular systems. “He’s in the bridge, why?”

“Have him meet me down by the storage bay, would you? And have Michael bring down a few weapons, I don’t know what we’re dealing with. Can you tell if anything’s started moving down there?”

“There is a lot of movement down there, but I think whatever it is, it’s still in the crates.” The comms system buzzed as they went quiet, searching the cargo bay to make sure they weren’t sending their crew down into certain death. “Yeah, no, it’s definitely still contained.” There was a beat of silence before they whispered, “for now.”

That brought some relief, at least. Still, he didn’t want to go in there with nothing, just in case. At least they managed to hit a new record. He’d have to mark it on his calendar when he got back up to his quarters. 

He let Gavin get back to work somewhere along the way down to the bottom of the ship, waiting outside the door to the hold and tapping his foot as he waited for Alfredo and Michael to join him. As he opened his mouth to ask Lindsay to let them know he was waiting, he heard the telltale sound of yelling that signalled Michael’s approach. Alfredo was much quieter, but he had no doubt that he was in tow.

Still, he was impatient. Trevor always was when it came to the safety of his crew. If there was anything that had the potential to harm them, he wanted it dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no room for wasting time. He already had his hand out as Michael rounded the corner, and he didn’t lower it until he felt the weight of a gun settled in it. 

“Gave you your usual rifle, boss. Figured you’d want something reliable,” he explained, watching as Trevor inspected the rifle to make sure it was up to his standards. “Gave Fredo the harpoon gun, figured it might be handy and he said he’s used one of those before. Plus pistols for the both of you. Try not to miss your shots, though. Gavin’ll be pissed if he has to do a hull repair.” 

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll take it from here, but…” He trailed off, noticing that Michael himself was also armed with a variety of weapons. “Standby out here, just in case. Lindsay’ll let you know if we run into trouble.” They nodded at each other in understanding, the doors to the cargo bay sliding open in front of them. “Let’s go.”

Alfredo could only give a tiny nod himself, following behind the commander as they stepped into the hold. It was bright, the lights at full blast to make sure there weren’t any shadows to hide in. But that wasn’t enough to stop him from being nervous. His hands didn’t shake, but he was chewing on his bottom lip so much that it was starting to bleed, and every little noise made him raise the harpoon gun and aim. 

“You wanna tell me what’s in those crates?” Trevor asked as they worked their way towards the center of the hold, checking every nook and cranny as Lindsay kept them updated on any movement around them that was out of the ordinary. “I was fine with not knowing before, but-“ He was cut off by the sound of wood scraping against metal, dull thuds as whatever was inside of them grew restless. “But because of things like that, I can’t let things slide anymore.”

The other man hesitated, continuing to bite at his lip, but Trevor’s gaze was piercing and it made his blood run cold against his tongue. Nothing got past the commander, even the smallest of lies. “Plants. It’s plants.”

“Plants don’t move like that,” Trevor pointed out, and Alfredo couldn’t exactly refute his claim. “Now, what the hell is actually in these crates?”

“I’m being serious. It’s plants.” A beat of silence, more piercing stares, before he continued. “Mutant plants that were definitely overfed a ton of fertilizer and who only knows what else, but… Yeah. Plants.”

“Mutant… Plants?” The words fell slowly off of Trevor’s tongue, processing what they meant at the same time they left his mouth. “Just how mutant, exactly?”

“Depends. Some of ‘em are still pretty plant-like, but… Others are getting pretty close to Audrey II territory.” 

“As much as I appreciate the comparison, I’d appreciate a little more seriousness even more.” Alfredo murmured an apology, but Trevor’s silence made it clear that the time for talking was over. 

After a few more paces they reached the crates, specially marked to make it stand out from all of the other similar crates, but only to the trained eye. Sure enough, there was some banging coming from inside the crate, as well as some angry hissing, but it wasn’t exactly loud enough to be heard from the engineering deck, especially not over the roar of the engines either. If Gavin was able to hear it, it had to be something much bigger, much louder. 

They began to inspect the crates one by one, making sure each one was intact and tightening whatever screws had started to get knocked loose by the thrashing within. All the noise and movement had Trevor on edge, his heart racing and normally steady hands shaking each time he had to touch one of the boxes. 

“That’s all of them. Nine crates, all secure.”

Alfredo frowned, eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes flicked from crate to crate. “There should be ten here.” They both counted, and re-counted, and counted one last time for good measure. Sure enough, there were only nine crates with no sign of a tenth. 

“Lindsay, double-check the manifest for me?” They did, which only confirmed that there was a crate missing. Trevor’s face mirrored the pilot’s then, concern etched deep into their features. “Alfredo? Any explanations?” 

“Alright, this isn’t my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is, but I would still like an explanation. Or at least some way to make sense of… This.”

Alfredo shifted, uncomfortable under Trevor’s gaze. “Well… Best guess is that… Either Geoff miscounted or left one off the ship, or-“

“-Which is pretty likely-“

“-Or one of the plants escaped. Which is also pretty likely. Maybe even more likely.”

“Well. Shit.” They both hoisted up their weapons simultaneously, knowing that they couldn’t afford to get caught off guard by anything. “Lindsay, lock down the cargo bay! Nothing gets in or out of here, not even the two of us. If anything starts moving other than us or those crates, you tell us immediately, got it?”

“Sure thing, commander. There’s just… One teensy-tiny problem.”

Trevor groaned loudly, looking up at the speaker. “And that is what, exactly?”

“Well, you see… There’s so much movement in those crates that… I kinda can’t see any movement anywhere else in the ship, and especially not in the cargo bay. It throws my whole system off, I can’t see anything.”

He whirled around to look at Alfredo upon hearing that, rifle still raised, and for a second he thought that the commander was going to shoot him right where he stood. The thought crossed Trevor’s mind, he wasn’t going to lie about that, but he decided that it would be unwise. He needed someone to watch his back, even if that someone was the one who got him into this mess. Turning back around and marching on, he let out a very slow, very shaky breath as he tried to control his anger. 

“Alfredo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You and I are going to stay in here and keep watch on the rest of these crates to make sure no more of these…” He trailed off, glaring back at the crates before his gaze was back on Alfredo. “Things escape before we reach our destination. Michael and Jack are going to be patrolling the rest of the ship to keep everyone else safe. I don’t know what the hell these things are capable of, and I’m assuming you don’t either, so we need to be on high alert. Got it?” 

Alfredo nodded quickly. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now… Lindsay, how far away are we?”

“We’re about a day out. I’ll try and push the engines so we can get there faster but-”

“Don’t bother, I’d rather not blow the ship. Alfredo and I are just going to have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied.” 

A day stuck in the cargo hold with the commander, who was very armed and very angry, really wasn’t ideal for Alfredo, but he acknowledged that there were worse punishments he could be given. He was just glad that he’d already opted to put his cut towards the ship, because there was no way he’d be given all of it after this. 

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

“Got any sevens?”

“No, go fish. Got any threes?”

“Nope, go fishin’! Got any… Got any aces?”

There was a long moment of silence, and then: “This would be easier with cards. I don’t remember what I have or don’t have anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It had been several hours since the start of the cargo bay lockdown, and they were already running out of things to do. They’d searched the hold over and over until they found scrapes in the floor that lead to a splintered crate at the far end, but nothing that told them where the plant monster had run off to. Then, they reinforced all the remaining crates, doing what they could to make sure nothing else would try to escape and end up succeeding in their attempt. After that, they’d sort of run out of things to do to keep busy. “Imaginary Go Fish” was only entertaining the first time (though Trevor would disagree), and Lindsay had shut off all their sensors in the hold in an attempt to get everything else back in working order so they could help Michael and Jack. Not only were they cut off from the rest of the crew, but they were alone for the next twenty or so hours. 

“At least we’re down here with the supplies so we don’t starve,” Alfredo muttered, trying to find any possible brightside to the situation. 

Trevor hummed in agreement, standing up and shaking out his arms. “Yeah, at least we won’t starve,” he agreed, the slightest hint of mockery in his tone. He had yet to outright voice his displeasure, but he was sure Alfredo could put the pieces together. After stretching, he checked his watch. “Time for another walk around. You stay put.” 

Slumping against a crate, Alfredo nodded, making sure he had his own weapon in hand as Trevor readied his own and walked off. They did this every half hour or so. Trevor made him do the first few, but he must’ve gotten tired of sitting around because it was the first time he’d offered to go. 

His footsteps echoed off the thick metal walls of the hold, and Alfredo listened intently to them. The only other sounds were the dull thuds of the contained plant monsters and the usual creaks and groans of the Morrigan itself, but those were easy to tune out once they droned on long enough. When the footsteps stopped, it was like the hold went completely silent. 

He was immediately on edge, standing up quickly and hoisting the harpoon gun up as he went. “Trevor?” he called, taking a few hesitant steps forward. When there wasn’t an immediate response, he took a few more, heading towards where he’d last heard the other’s footsteps come from. 

“I’m fine,” Trevor called back after a minute, “Just stay there, everything’s fine!”

“You don’t sound too sure,” was the response he got, and he just let out a huff. 

It was true, he wasn’t too sure, because in a corner Alfredo had surely overlooked on his previous patrols, the plant had taken over. Its thorny vines stretched across the floors and up the walls, writhing and squirming as it supported the weight of what looked like a giant flower bud but… Flowers weren’t supposed to have teeth. That was the one thing that had been consistent across the planets he’d been to. Plants didn’t have teeth. “I’m not,” he muttered to himself, wondering why the hell he’d agreed to take this job in the first place. You needed a pilot, he reminded himself as he took slow, careful steps back in an effort not to startle the thing. But I don’t think we needed one this badly.

“What’s going on? I’m coming over there.”

Trevor turned around slowly, carefully, just in time to see Alfredo running up. “No, don’t!” he shouted, putting a hand up to stop him, but something stopped him instead. 

A vine wrapped itself tight around his arm, the thorns digging in deep and latching on. It had been resting peacefully before, able to slumber without being disturbed by the occasional movement and noise from the two men, but Trevor’s sudden shouting had woken it up. And it was not pleased. 

He cried out in pain, instinctively trying to pull his arm free, but it only made the vine hold on even tighter. It reminded him of those finger traps Jeremy had brought on board one time: the more he pulled, the more it constricted his arm. But unlike those finger traps, it had no intentions of letting go once Trevor relaxed. 

Alfredo stood there in shock, eyes wide and frozen in place until the commander barked out an order. He didn’t even register the words, just that he needed to move, and he needed to move now. Gavin was going to kill him for the damage later, but there was no time to aim the harpoon gun properly before he was pulling the trigger. Though it missed the bud by a few feet, the harpoon did manage to sever a few of its tendrils. The plant monster let out an ear-piercing shriek, untangling itself from Trevor in order to start scaling the wall and worming its way into an air vent. The metal of the grate covering it bent and snapped from the force, and the ends of several vines hung out through the remaining slats. 

“Nice work,” Trevor managed through gritted teeth, trying to pretend like his arm wasn’t bleeding as badly as it was and didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. Alfredo saw through the act in less than a second, retrieving the harpoon before dropping the gun and approaching Trevor. 

“That looks… Bad. I should’ve given you my jacket,” he muttered, pushing his sleeve up to get a better look at the damage. Bruises were already starting to form where the vine itself had been, and there were several grisly cuts from the thorns, all bleeding pretty badly. “Fuck… Lindsay! We need Michael down here, now!”

Trevor pushed Alfredo’s hands off him before sinking to his knees and gripping his arm, trying to cover at least one of the cuts in an effort to stop the flow of blood. Whatever wasn’t soaked up by his shirt dripped down to the floor, creating a pretty sizable puddle beneath him that began to soak into the knees of his pants as well. “They can’t hear you… They shut down all their sensors for this room, remember?” There were a lot of flaws in their plan, he saw that now. But at least he knew that the beast was for sure in the cargo bay, not that there was anything that could be done about that right then. “There’s… There may be some emergency supplies by the door, Michael makes sure there’s some in every room.” Accidents happened everywhere, and the lad hated having to run all the way back to the medbay for a bandage every time someone got hurt. 

Once Alfredo had retrieved the medkit, he helped Trevor to his feet and guided him back to their makeshift campsite. The further they were from that vent, the better off they were, though the plant monster would easily be able to follow the trail of blood Trevor left behind right to them. They sat down together there, Trevor still clutching his arm as he leaned back against the crates with a soft groan. He was feeling a bit woozy, 

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna bandage this up for now, hopefully that stops the bleeding, or at least slows it,” Alfredo murmured, popping the kit open and breathing out an audible sigh of relief when he saw that it was fully stocked. “Thank the stars,” he breathed, almost smiling as he grabbed a roll of gauze and began to wrap up Trevor’s arm. He was silent as he worked, faltering when the other spoke up. 

“Can we please talk?” he asked softly, eyes meeting Alfredo’s when he looked up. “I’d really like something else to focus on other than the pain.” 

“I thought you were mad at me?”

“I was… I am, but… I’d still rather talk than sit in silence.”

“Oh.” He continued to wrap his arm, securing it with some tape once he was done. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything. Something. I really don’t care.” He held his arm to his chest, cradling it in an effort to soothe the pain. 

“Well, how’d you become in charge of your own ship?” Alfredo asked, settling in beside him and leaning against the crate as he began to rummage through the medkit. 

Trevor chuckled quietly, turning his head to look over at the other. “Now that is a very long story, but… I guess we’ve got the time.” He checked his watch, taking a deep breath. “I worked on a lot of ships that treated their crews like shit. Treated their ships like shit too, honestly. I bailed on one before my contract was up once I had enough credits saved up, hid at one of the starports until they stopped searching for me, and then… I bought a ship of my own. It was small at first, real small. Couldn’t do much with it, couldn’t really go anywhere with it either, but I managed to swing a few small jobs.” He stared off into the distance as he spoke, looking out the small port windows at the stars outside the ship. It had been a while since he’d thought about any of this, even longer since he’d talked about it, but there was a fond smile as he did. “I don’t miss any of the bullshit at the start.”

Alfredo listened intently, a small stack of things from the kit forming in front of him. More gauze, disinfectant, rags, a suture and thread. He wasn’t really thrilled about the prospect of stitching up Trevor, but those wounds were so deep that something more needed to be done. “I don’t think anyone here misses the bullshit at the start. I sure had my fair share.” 

“How did you get started, then?”

“I used to be a pilot back on Earth. I was good at my job, really good, so they bumped me up to piloting shuttles between the colonies. After a while, I guess I got sick of seeing the same places over and over again,” he explained, letting out a soft ‘a ha!’ as he pulled a bottle of painkillers from the bottom of the kit. “Lotta ships need good pilots, and they paid better than the other gig, so I jumped ship, so to speak.” Shaking out a few pills, he passed them to Trevor who swallowed them down dry with a grimace. Anything to help the pain. “Never really wanted to own my ship, seemed like too much work, but… I was cool with piloting them. I get paid to see space, how cool is that?”

“It is a lot of work,” he agreed, still trying to get the pills down. “Sometimes, it’s too much work. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.” 

Alfredo was quiet for a few long moments, the silence hanging heavy between them. “Will this be worth it?” 

“Yes.” Trevor didn’t need to think about his answer as much as Alfredo had needed to think about his question. “Absolutely. You seem surprised.”

“But you got hurt. That thing could have killed you!”

“But it’s still in the cargo bay, and it didn’t hurt anyone in my crew. Better me than anyone else.” His crew was his family, and if he had to get hurt to keep them safe, so be it. It was a small price he was willing to pay. 

Alfredo scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t get you.”

“What?”

“No commander gives this much of a shit about their crew.” No captain gave their crew an equal cut, they always took more for themselves. No captain would sacrifice themself for their crew, they always forced their crew to do the sacrificing for them. No captain would adopt a broken AI like one would a stray cat. It just didn’t happen. “Not a single one. I’ve been trying to figure out your game from the start, and I just… I can’t.” The laughing only added to his confusion. 

“I know. No other commander does, but I do. And you’re gonna have to get used to it, Alfredo. All those assholes on the other side of the door are my family, and I’d sooner die for them than let anything bad happen to them,” he stated firmly, making sure the other was looking at him and meeting his eyes as he spoke. “There’s no game, no ulterior motive. You’re part of that family now too, so you’re just gonna have to learn to live with it.”

It had been a long time since Alfredo had been a part of any family, since anyone had accepted him so completely so quickly. While he didn’t fully trust Trevor just yet, he trusted him more than he had a few minutes ago. “Alright. I’ll learn to live with it.”

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

Alfredo was silent as he worked to stitch up Trevor’s arm, hands steady as he did so. He’d spent some time cleaning up the now dried blood, disinfecting the wounds and getting a better look at them. Some of the cuts were only surface wounds, already scabbed over and barely noticeable, but others were pretty gruesome. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to freak Trevor out, but he was pretty sure that he could see bone in a few of them. “Michael’s gonna have to redo these, but they’ll hold for now,” he murmured, tying off the last one and bandaging him up again before things got too bloody again. 

“How bad am I, doc? Am I gonna make it?” Trevor asked, really glad that he’d taken some more painkillers because he couldn’t imagine all of those stitches would feel great in a few minutes. 

“Yeah,” Alfredo said with a soft smile, taping down the end of the gauze. “You’ll make it.” I hope. 

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

As hour six rolled around, the comms hissed with static and a few musical beeps, surprising Alfredo and making him lift his head. He and Trevor had decided that sleeping was a pretty good way to kill time, so the commander had ended up fast asleep and slumped with his head on Alfredo’s shoulder. The other man hadn’t been so lucky, wide awake and checking every few minutes to make sure that he hadn’t gone and died on him. 

“Lindsay?” he asked softly, hoping they’d see the situation and match his tone. 

“Alfredo! What the hell happened?” They could see everything the second their cameras were back online: The broken vent grate, the vines coming out of the grate, the severed tendrils on the floor, the puddle and trail of brown dried blood leading to Alfredo and a very injured Trevor. “Is he… He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, he’s alive. We found the plant, and it… It got him good,” he explained, tipping his head forward to make sure Trevor was still asleep. “I patched him up, but… He’s gonna need a lot more than some stitches.”

“I’ll get Michael to come down-”

“No,” he stated, and Lindsay let out a soft scoff of indignation. “No one else comes down here. If you lift the lockdown, that thing’ll get free run of the station through the vents. We’ll be fine… We’ve got food and water, this kit’s got enough supplies to last us, and… I think as long as we leave it alone, it’ll leave us alone.” 

Lindsay hummed as they scanned the room. The plants in the crates had calmed down a little bit, and as far as they could tell the one in the vents was perfectly still, only shifting every now and then but not making any grand movements. “What should we do, then?”

“Make sure everyone else evacuates the ship the second we touch down and send Michael down here with a flamethrower. We’ll take a bit of a hit to our pay because we’ll be short a crate, but I don’t care. I want that thing dead.” 

“I’m sure the commander feels the same way… Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” They asked, dimming the lights a little. If it was dark, the plants would probably stay calmer. It would make sleeping a little easier for the pair as well. 

Alfredo bit his lip, shrugging a shoulder before shaking his head. “No, but I’m trying to be optimistic.” He leaned his head back against the crate and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief he’d been holding for far too long. With Lindsay back, it meant he wasn’t alone. There was a buffer between him and the commander, someone to help fill the silence. 

They were quiet for a few minutes as they relayed information to the rest of the crew, before the comms crackled in the hold once more. “You should try and sleep too, ‘Fredo. Now that we know where it is, I can keep an eye on it.” 

“No, I gotta make sure he’s still breathing.”

“I can keep an eye on him too. The crates are quiet, so all my sensors are in working order. His heart rate is normal, if a bit weak, but he’s breathing fine. You should rest.”

He didn’t really have the energy to argue with them further, so he relented. “Wake us in a few hours. I’m gonna have to change his bandages and clean those wounds. Michael’ll kill me if I let those get infected.”

“Yes, he will.”

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

As hour twelve rolled around, Lindsay brightened the lights slowly and chimed softly to wake the pilot and the commander. They hoped that the plants wouldn’t be disturbed as well, but considering how long it took the pair to wake up, they weren’t really too concerned. 

“Trevor,” Alfredo said softly, jostling him gently with his shoulder. His ass and his neck ached from sleeping on the hard metal floor in such an awkward position, and he was sure that the other man would need another round of painkillers too. “Trevor, c’mon man. Wake up.” 

He did so with great reluctance, groaning softly as he registered several different aches and pains. “Was this really necessary?”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta change your bandages so Michael won’t have to cut off your arm,” he said, encouraging him to sit up before reaching for the supplies in front of him. “Or my head.”

Trevor laughed softly, starting to stretch his arms out over his head before he stopped short, wincing and clutching his bandaged arm to his chest. “Fuck… I thought that was a dream,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I wish it was,” Alfredo sighed, “But while you were sleeping, we got Lindsay back. So that’s good, at least. Told them everything. They wanted to send Michael down here, but I told them not to.”

“And why the hell did you do that?” Trevor winced as Alfredo started to unwrap the gauze. Despite how careful he was being, it still pulled at the cuts uncomfortably. 

“Because,” he started, murmuring an apology when he saw him wince and trying to go slower. “If the lockdown gets lifted, that thing can go through the vents and go anywhere it wants, which is bad.”

Trevor hummed in agreement, but it was reluctant. He didn’t like knowing Alfredo had been giving orders while he’d been asleep, even if they were the same ones he would’ve given. “What’d you tell them to do, then?”

“Keep the lockdown going, evacuate everyone once we land, and then send Michael down here. With a flamethrower.”

“Good thinking.”

“Why, thank you.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence then, Alfredo removing the last of the gauze and cleaning up his arm. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, so now it was just a focus on preventing infection, which he hoped would be easy enough. It would be even easier once they got back on solid ground, when Michael could actually get in here and kill the thing. Bullets probably wouldn’t do the trick, they’d just piss Gavin off by causing damage to the ship, but fire was pretty damn effective in every circumstance. 

“Lindsay?” Trevor called softly, feeling instantly comforted when he heard their voice over the speakers. “Where is the thing? Still in the vent?”

“Yep. Still in the vent. It’s almost cute like this, even if it did try to eat you.”

“It didn’t… It didn’t try to eat me.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, commander. Oh, and Matt would like me to tell you that he thinks it’s hilarious you got your ass kicked by a plant.”

Trevor huffed, rolling his eyes and sinking back against the crates. Even when he was isolated from his crew, they still found a way to pester him. 

Beside him, Alfredo shrugged off his jacket, flipping it inside out so the soft lining was visible before balling it up. “You should get some more rest,” he said as he held it out to Trevor. “It’s not much, but it’ll be better for your neck than the crate.”

He hesitated a moment before taking it, sinking right down to the floor to lay flat since he had a pillow now. “It’s weird seeing you without your jacket on.” Alfredo had been wearing it from the moment he’d met him until now, he hadn’t seen him with it off once. 

“He even wears it to bed,” Lindsay piped up, laughing as Alfredo’s face went as red as the leather. 

“I do not!” He shouted defensively, glaring up at the ceiling.  “It’s just part of my style, that’s all.” 

“Relax,” Trevor chuckled, reaching out blindly to pat Alfredo’s arm. He missed and hit leg instead, but neither of them said anything. “I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s a good style, I like it.” He turned his head, looking up at Alfredo with a small smile. 

The other couldn’t help but smile back, getting comfortable against the box behind him. He didn’t know why that compliment made him feel so warm, but he was lucky that his face was already red from Lindsay’s teasing so it didn’t give him away. “Thanks, Trev.”

“Anytime, Fredo.” 

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

The hours rolled by easily, the pair spending most of them asleep because there wasn’t much else to do. They woke up a few times so Alfredo could change the bandages, munching on some rations at one point since the last meal they’d had was breakfast that morning. Chatting with Lindsay was another good way to pass the time, too. They were able to keep the crew updated on the situation down in the hold, and keep the commander updated on things going on on the other side of the door. There wasn’t much going on, just a lot of worry, but Trevor still didn’t want to be out of the loop. 

Once they’d slept as much as they could and talked to Lindsay until there was nothing more to talk about, they decided to do the only thing they could to pass the final few hours before the ship landed: Talk to each other. 

“You said you used to work on Earth. What was that like?” Trevor asked, looking down at Alfredo. They swapped who got to use the jacket-pillow every couple of hours, and since they weren’t going to be sleeping anymore Trevor had decided to surrender it back to its original owner (even though it was still technically his turn for another thirty minutes). 

“You’ve never been?” he asked, sticking an arm beneath his head to prop himself up as he looked back at the commander, who shook his head. “I mean, it was fine? I guess? Kinda boring compared to space. The sky was always the same, and there were way too many people. Have you seriously never been to Earth?”

“No, I grew up out in the Terra 2 colony. Then I got sucked up into a spacer crew, and that was it. Never saw any reason to go once I got the Morrigan, and now without a warp drive we’re too far out.”

“I’m shocked a job hasn’t taken you there, people there are always looking for stuff smuggled in from the far reaches,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Customs was a bitch to get by, but he still had a few buddies down there who’d be willing to let them through. He was sure of it. “Once we get that drive, we’ll pick up a few jobs that’ll take us there.”

“Whatever you say, man. But you didn’t exactly make it sound worth the hype.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely not, but still. I can’t believe you’ve never been!” 

Talking to Trevor was a lot easier than it had been before. He wasn’t as scared of him, and a lot of the distrust had faded. The feeling was mutual, as well. The commander wasn’t angry at Alfredo anymore, because ultimately, none of this was his fault. He was the one who hadn’t checked in on the cargo sooner, he was the one who’d startled the monster, all of this fell on his shoulders because it was his ship and he was responsible for everything that happened on it.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor said out of nowhere, almost startling Alfredo with the suddenness of it. “I’m sorry I blamed all this on you.”

“It’s fine.” He hadn’t been expecting an apology from the commander. Maybe a month or two on bathroom cleaning duty, sure, but not an apology. “We both had our fuckups in this mess.”

“We did, but it’s unfair to blame the whole thing on you. Most of it, sure?” Alfredo cut him a look, and he just laughed. “Kidding. I’m kidding! Don’t give me that. It’s really more like… Fifty/fifty.”

“Sixty/forty. You’re the sixty.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.” 

They grinned at each other, oblivious to the way the ship began to creak and groan around them as Lindsay initiated the landing sequence. The plants in the crates kicked up again, but the one in the vents was still. 

“You know what? You’re alright, Fredo. Gavin was right about you.” 

Alfredo’s face matched his jacket all over again, and he had to fight hard to get the words out despite how flustered he was. Trevor hadn’t called him by any sort of nickname until now, it made him feel good to know that the commander was finally warming up to him. “What… What did he say about me, exactly?”

“That you were the best of the best. And he was right. Normally he’s not right about these things, but… He nailed it with you.”

“You sure you’re not still woozy from blood loss?” Alfredo asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat up, meeting Trevor’s eyes. “Because I know we just did that whole heartfelt apology thing, but… I definitely almost got you killed.”

He shook his head fervently. “No, you didn’t. You saved my life.” 

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you die.” 

“And I owe you big time for that.”

The ship jostled as it landed on uneven earth, and Alfredo grabbed onto Trevor quickly to prevent him from sliding around with the crates around them. Even as things settled, he didn’t let go, hearing something hiss in annoyance from the far end of the cargo hold. 

“Lindsay… Please tell us Michael’s on his way,” Trevor said, sinking back into the pilot in an effort to hide as he scrambled to grab the harpoon gun. 

“He’s outside the door, we’re just waiting for everyone to be off the ship so I can lift the lockdown. I suggest staying out of his way… He’s been wanting to use that thing for the last eighteen hours, and I don’t think anything’s gonna get in his way.”

“If he dies, Alfredo’s the new medical officer.”

“Noted.”

Using a flamethrower while they were in flight was unwise because of the oxygen rich environment, but back on terra firma it was the perfect weapon for dealing with unruly plant monsters. Michael’s cackles of delight echoed off the walls, mixing with the roar of the weapon and the shrieks of the plant as it burned. The noises kicked off another escape attempt in the other crates, but the reinforcements they’d made held firm. Only a few crates of supplies got caught up in the crossfire, and Michael was relatively unharmed aside from the ash staining his lab coat. 

Alfredo let the harpoon drop from his hands once he realized he wouldn’t be needing it, instead helping Trevor to his feet and keeping him steady as they made their way to the bay doors. “Michael,” he said, watching as the man kept scorching the charred remains. “Michael!” He stopped firing quickly, whirling around with wide eyes. “Stop dicking around, Trevor needs help.” 

“A thank you would’ve been nice,” Michael muttered as he dropped the weapon, knowing he’d need his hands free to help Trevor. 

“Thank you, Michael. Now help him, please?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lindsay told me that you were trying to steal my job, I just hope you didn’t make things worse,” he said as he swapped places with Alfredo, supporting Trevor’s weight to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “Alright, Trevor-boy, let’s get you to the infirmary.” He started to lead him out of the cargo hold, and Alfredo watched them go for a second before turning to start cleaning the mess they’d left behind up. 

Trevor stopped after a few paces, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re not coming?” he asked, the smallest hint of a frown etched into his features. 

“Uh.” Alfredo blinked, not sure how to answer. “No?”

“Yes, you are. C’mon.”

“Why?”

“I need someone there for moral support. Michael’s not as gentle as you are and I need someone’s hand to hold while he patches me up.” Trevor cracked a grin despite the fact that he wasn’t telling a joke, and Alfredo mirrored the expression after a moment to process exactly what he’d said. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he insisted, holding out his hand towards him as Michael began to pull him along. 

Alfredo jogged to catch up to them, abandoning the task at hand in favor of taking Trevor’s hand. He was happy to have escaped the cargo bay alive, and even happier to know that he was back in the commander’s good graces. Their relationship was different, stronger and a lot friendlier than it had been now that they were no longer wary of each other. Trevor couldn’t think of a single member of the crew that he would’ve rather gone through that ordeal with, either. 

“Thanks for not letting the boss die, Fredo,” Michael said, cutting into the silence once they reached the infirmary. 

“Yeah, thanks for not letting me die, Fredo,” Trevor agreed, smiling kindly at him and giving his hand a squeeze. 

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”