#than 'one med cat was slightly bad at parenting so all of them are'

[wygolvillage]

i just remembered when i saw a post that said it was bad to dislike moth flight because she is adhd coded

[talatomaz]

kidnapped | hailey upton x fem!reader

a/n: of course, I have to make everything angsty since hurt-comfort is my fave genre 😁

this is based off 5x16 (chicago med) but instead of nat being kidnapped, it’s the reader.

requested by anon: “a hailey upton x female reader. where the reader works at 51 or med and both hailey and the reader have hidden their relationship from everyone.”

warnings: mentions of blood/guns. kidnapping (past and present). sexual references

word count: 2.4k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

after reader gets kidnapped by a murderer, hailey finds herself losing her mind because, though nobody else knows, her and reader have been in a relationship for almost a year and she is the love of her life

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Okay, I’m at work now. Have a great day, love.”

“You too, baby. Bye.”

You smiled as your girlfriend disconnected the call.

You had been dating Hailey for just under a year and you couldn’t help but be a bit pleased that the two of you had managed to keep it a secret this long.

With you working in Chicago Med and Hailey working in Intelligence, there was a lot of overlap with your work and considering you all spent your free time at Molly’s, it was a surprise that no one knew of your relationship.

You’d met Hailey almost two years ago. She had brought in a young teenager who’d been a victim of a home invasion - her parents had been brutally murdered leaving her as the sole survivor.

Hailey had remained by her side the entire time and you couldn’t help but appreciate that. Many detectives tended to just leave the injured with you or your fellow colleagues and then go off to work their respective cases.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, mind you. But there was something about the way that Hailey cared for this child that had just captivated your heart.

And since that day, you’d found yourself pining, for lack of a better word, over the blonde. But what you hadn’t realised was that she had felt the exact same way about you.

For several months, the two of you found yourself dancing around your feelings, both on the precipice of revealing your feelings before relenting at the last second. It was only until Ruzek had hit on you one night at Molly’s that had Hailey finally revealing how she felt about you.

You remembered how she stood there, cheeks red from the cold, eyes full of jealousy and black with lust. Suffice it to say, you couldn’t help but mentally thank Adam for unwittingly hitting on you because it had allowed you to finally be with the detective. And almost a year down the line, you were stronger than ever.

“Morning, Dr L/N!”

Blinking, you gathered your thoughts and turned to see Dr Marcel walking towards you. Furrowing your brows, you spoke, “Didn’t your shift start an hour ago?”

“Forgot my badge in my car. I should superglue it to my forehead.”

Returning his laugh, you spoke, “Think a stapler might work better.”

As you were about to walk away, your head whipped around to face a man running up the two of you. You immediately noticed the blood staining his hands and before you could speak, his voice came out in a frantic and rapid pants. Partly because he was running but mostly, you assumed, because of fear.

“Help! My wife. She’s in labour. She’s bleeding real bad.”

Glancing over at Crockett, you saw that his expression mirrored yours and, without hesitation, the two of you ran after the man, following him to his car to help his wife.

You were shocked, however, when upon approaching the van, you saw a man lay bleeding on the floor. His hand raised, a gun in his palm. Though it was winter, the sun still beamed and the light glistened off the metal, threatening to blind you.

“Give me your phones and get in.” The man, who’d come running up to you just moments before, said harshly.

“You don’t have to do this.” You said calmly, obeying his orders.

You weren’t sure how your voice came out so steady when it felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you before his gun would surely kill you.

“I’m the surgeon, alright. Let her go.”

Crockett’s attempts to reason with the two men were futile as they shouted for the two of you to get in.

Holding your breath, you willed yourself to calm down, needing to believe that Hailey would soon be looking for you.

God, please let Hailey find you.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Get up.”

Turning to look behind you, the man, who’d tricked you this morning, opened the van doors and you fought to hide a shiver as the cold Chicago air blasted through you.

You looked over at Marcel who tried to sit up as best he could, “I’m the surgeon. Let me go. I know what to get.”

“Cuff him. Do it.”

Catching the set of handcuffs that had been thrown in your face, you followed the man’s orders and, with a solemn look, you cuffed your friend to the bar above his head.

“Come on.”

You bit your tongue to prevent a curse leaving your lips as the man, what could only be described as, yanked you out of the van and held you tight to his side.

“Make any stupid moves and you and your friend both die.”

After picking up some supplies, you approached the checkout and silently pleaded at the cashier with your eyes, wishing that he could see the panic in your eyes and alarm someone to your predicament.

When it became obvious that that wasn’t going to happen, you began to lose hope before catching a glimpse of a security camera in the corner of your eye. Glancing up at your kidnapper, you saw he was preoccupied with paying, giving you a brief moment of reprieve to remove your hospital badge, letting it fall to the marble ground.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.” The man said, feigning a nurturing tone as he spoke to you through clenched teeth.

You winced at his harsh grip and followed him back to the van where you helped Marcel perform surgery to repair the bullet wound in the man’s leg, whom you assumed to be the brother of the driver.

Hailey frowned as she looked at the text she had sent you a few hours earlier; the one tick indicating that you hadn’t read it yet.

Where were you?

She tried to reason with herself, believing that maybe you were busy in the ER but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened.

And Jay and Voight’s secrecy only seemed to add to her panic.

For the past few hours, her partner had been leaving the district and then coming back with a schooled look on his face that Hailey knew he used to conceal his worry.

And it didn’t help that whenever his phone rang, he left to privately answer it and immediately went to Voight’s office, closing the door which people only did in serious situations.

When Jay left Voight’s office, Hailey got up from her chair and grabbed Jay’s arm, dragging him into the dingy break room.

“What’s going on?”

“What?” Halstead crossed his arms, his attempts to feign confusion failing miserably.

“Never play poker, Jay. What’s going on?” Hailey repeated.

Jay sighed, “Dr L/N and Marcel have been kidnapped.”

The blood drained from Hailey’s face as she grew visibly pale. Trying to keep her voice as steady as she could, she spoke, “What?”

“Maggie found their phones in the car park. There was blood on them and we lifted a partial print and matched it to Tyler Clemons. A convicted murderer.”

Hailey leaned against the table when she felt her knees buckle beneath her.

Halstead stared at her in concern but before he could question it, his phone rang.

Hailey watched silently as he hummed in response to the other person on the line. When he disconnected, he looked at the blonde, his eyes filled with unbridled relief.

“I think we’ve found them. Gear up. I’ll tell Voight.”

Without hesitation, Hailey immediately rushed out the door and ran downstairs to get ready.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“This is Detective Jay Halstead with the Chicago Police Department.”

Your shoulders slumped in relief as you heard your friend’s voice be projected through, what you assumed was, a megaphone.

The two men had taken you to their mother’s home where you gained clarity on the reasoning for their actions.

The injured man, who you learned was called Tyler, had a young son diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything you or Marcel could do, and instead, you’d been forced to restrain yourself to the wooden chairs you were currently sitting on.

You listened as Halstead announced that the house was surrounded, hoping that Hailey was outside but simultaneously wishing that she wasn’t in fear of it going sideways - you didn’t want her to see your dead body.

“Here. Uncuff her.”

You held your breath as Tyler threw the keys at Crockett, not wanting to say a word in case he ended up changing his mind.

After he freed you, you rubbed your wrists, slightly wincing at the red marks that had risen on your tanned skin. Then you began to protest when Tyler made it obvious that he was only letting you go but after some persuasion from your friend, you reluctantly left Crockett in the house.

Opening the front door to the suburban home, you felt another wave of cold air run through you and you raised your hands in a surrendering gesture.

“Patrol, stand down. Friendly coming out.” Jay had yelled and then you found yourself being hurried behind shields to where Jay stood.

And Hailey.

The moment you laid eyes on the blonde, you fell into her arms as she held you fiercely against her.

Her arms wrapped tightly around you before she pulled you back. Her eyes roamed over you, trying to look for any injuries.

“I’m okay.” You whispered, your hands on hers.

Her eyes filled with tears as she tugged you back towards her and kissed you. The kiss was passionate, laced with the ferocity that often came with almost losing someone you love.

Pulling away once more, you rested your forehead against hers and breathed out, your breath coming out in harsh pants.

“I think the cat’s out of the bag now.”

You laughed dryly as you glanced up, noticing Halstead, Maggie, Natalie and April staring at you both with wide eyes.

“I don’t care.”

And you could tell she truly didn’t when she kissed you again, more tender this time.

“God, I thought I’d lost you. I was so worried.”

“I’m okay, baby. I’m right here.”

You reassured your girlfriend as you embraced her once more, wanting nothing more than to feel her bare skin on yours, devoid of the winter clothing she was currently wearing.

“I love you so much, y/n. I never want to be without you again.” Hailey whispered harshly, gently rocking you in her arms, her hand cradling your head against her chest.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“I’m glad to see you’re okay, y/n.”

“Thanks, Kev.”

Almost everyone had gathered at Molly’s despite it being past midnight. You’d all collectively decided that, after the day you’d had, you needed a drink. Marcel had stayed for a while and you thanked him for looking after you whilst you were taken. Hailey also expressed her gratitude to the surgeon which he accepted graciously before deciding to turn in for the night.

You were currently sitting in a booth, cuddled up against Hailey, her arm wrapped comfortably around your waist.

Since the house, she hadn’t left your side once, not when you were getting checked out by the paramedics nor when you were giving your statement to the police.

And whilst being by your side, she also never let her hands leave you. Whether it be a hand on yours or her arm around your waist, she was never not touching you.

To be truthful, you were grateful because her touch grounded you and made you feel safe in a situation where your sense of security had been shattered.

“That was a smart move, dropping your badge on the gas station’s floor.” Halstead commented, sipping his beer.

“Did what I had to do. Speaking of which, Maggie, I’m gonna need that back so I can go to work tomorrow.”

Just as Maggie was about to hand the badge over to you, she snatched it out of your reach.

“Um, I don’t think so. You are taking a few days off, at the minimum.”

You raised your brows, challenging her when she spoke again.

“L/N, if I see you in my ER tomorrow, I’m gonna cuff you to your bed.” Maggie said, making everyone else around you laugh.

“Hey, if anyone’s cuffing y/n to the bed, it’s gonna be me.”

You blushed profusely at Hailey’s comment, the redness of your cheeks contrasting with your tanned skin.

“Kinky.” Jay commented before abruptly closing his mouth when Hailey stared at him.

“Now, how the hell did you manage to keep this a secret for a year?”

“Yeah, aren’t you supposed to be detectives?” Natalie joked, looking at Burgess, Atwater and Halstead.

“Guess we’re just great at keeping secrets. And it became kinda fun, I guess.” You shrugged, glancing up into Hailey’s eyes and she smiled at you.

“Yeah, it became like a game to us. To see how long we could keep it secret.”

“Probably could have kept it secret much longer if you hadn’t kissed me like that.” You chuckled, planting a soft kiss on Hailey’s lips when she playfully frowned.

“Says the one who got kidnapped.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I got kidnapped again.”

“Again?!”

Everyone except Hailey stilled as they all stared at you.

“It’s a long story.” You stated.

It wasn’t that difficult to talk about now but it still left you uncomfortable and you wished you could will the words back into your mouth.

Sensing your discomfort, Hailey answered for you.

“A story for another day. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Nodding, you stood up and hugged your friends goodbye and then left the bar, your hand clutched tightly in Hailey’s.

“Are you okay?” She leant down slightly to kiss your cheek and then whispered in your ear.

Not wanting to lie but not able to find the right words either, you ended up shrugging instead. At that, Hailey brought your joined hands up to her lips where she gently placed a kiss on yours.

“I’m here for you, baby. Tonight and every other night.” Hailey said, alluding to the bad memories that would surely plague your sleep.

Since being with Hailey, the night terrors you’d once had about your past had become more infrequent.

Though, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. The trauma of almost dying coupled with your previous abduction would ensure your lack of sleep.

But you would have Hailey next to you, so it wasn’t that much of a bother.

You may not feel safe in the world but you did feel safe in her arms and that was enough for you.

[squirrelcrow-po3]

some cats i want to know (more) about! i dunno if they've been talked about already i have a bad memory BUT: hollyleaf, cinderheart, willowshine, heathertail, hazeltail, icecloud, ferncloud, foxleap. feel free to take a pick or none or all i dont mind! anyway have a good day :]

tysm!! firstly, the canon three dont really exist in my rewrite. they have counterparts since their parents are squirrelflight and crowfeather! they follow similar story beats as the canon three but have different personalities and slightly different motives. they are cherryflight (hollyleaf) who is upbeat but strict and has gifted kid syndrome, sunchaser (lionblaze) who is bitter and self centered, and feathermist (jayfeather) who is overly empathetic and complaisant.

for the others

cinderheart: im not entirely sure what to do with her in my rewrite tbh. since she really isn't sunchaser’s love interest. i’d love to give her an entirely different character arc independent of him! i would just have to think it through.

willowshine: ough shes a good one. since in my rewrite, hawkfrost and mothwing switch ranks, hawkfrost is her mentor as riverclan’s med cat. so she is heavily traumatized by having a cruel mentor. and later in the fanmade arc, she is riverclan’s only high rank left after most of the clan cats are killed. and when shadowclan annexes them, she trains juniperpaw since shadowclan has no medicine cat. and she is very much disturbed by his ambition and cruelty because it reminds her of hawkfrost. in the rewrite,, she’s more withdrawn.

heathertail: another character i changed a lot! firstly, they are a they/them nonbinary cat! secondly, they are the kit of mudclaw instead, who is exiled from windclan rather than dying. they are sunchaser’s main love interest but they are both not good cats! they are on and off mates throughout po3 and oots. and after they have kits, they break up permanently and mostly use the kits to hurt one another.

hazeltail: i don’t have much for her, but i kinda wanted her to want to know more about her father! it would be interesting if she felt out of place in thunderclan for a bit, especially in her apprenticeship.

icecloud: also haven’t thought much about her either :[

ferncloud: now she’s a side character i have thought of! she is not mates with dustpelt. i changed it so that thornclaw is a rogue kit brought into thunderclan, so they are mates! ferncloud became a mother early into her life because she admired her mother, but also somewhat out of a feeling of obligation. she does love thornclaw! but sometimes she wishes she stayed a warrior longer. she also dies in po3 during the fire scene,, mostly for more emotional impact. but she is actually reborn as ivypool!! since in my rewrite, the three + dovewing and ivypool are reincarnations of cats introduced in the series rather than random tribe cats we don't care about lmao

foxleap: i have a little bit about him! he actually gets a mate! he’s in a poly triad with poppyfrost and berrynose! he does die in oots but he’s lived on by cherrykit and molekit

[sneezyminniejo]

Hi, can I request a sneezy Jimin with cat allergies? Thank uu

This 100% got away from me, but I hope you enjoy

You Don’t Always Outgrow Things

The seven members of BTS had decided it was time to get another pet. They loved Yeontan, but felt bad about constantly leaving him at the dorms alone, so they decided to get him a companion. They didn’t feel like they could properly accommodate a second dog, so they decided on getting a cat.

Jimin was super excited at the prospect of getting a cat. He hadn’t been able to have a cat nor a dog when he was a kid because his parents were allergic. Truthfully he was slightly allergic to cats when he was kid as well, but he hoped he was one of the people that outgrew his allergy, so he never felt the need to tell the others about it.

A couple hours after they had gotten the cat moved into the dorm and settled, it was becoming apparent to Jimin that he hadn’t outgrown his allergy. His nose had been getting itchy, and his eyes had been watering a bit as well. Because he didn’t want to disappoint the others with the bad news, Jimin decided that he was going to try to play off his symptoms as the beginning of a cold until he could buy some allergy meds.

“Heptschh, hetschh.” Jimin had sneezed for the fifth time in two hours and he could see some looks of concern beginning to form on the other members’ faces. Jungkook got up and grabbed a box of tissues, bringing it over to the third youngest. Meanwhile Yoongi had disappeared into his room. “Here hyung, you sound like you could use some tissues.”

Jimin gratefully took the offered tissues and began to blow his nose. By the time he had finished Yoongi had reappeared holding a thermometer. “Open up Jimin-ah. You’ve been sneezing a lot today, and you might be getting sick. I want to take your temperature to see if you have a fever.” Jimin wanted to protest at getting his temperature taken, but he knew it was either that or admit to his allergy, so he just went along with it.

When the thermometer beeped, Yoongi was quick to take it and look at the reading. “98.4, If you are getting sick, it might just be a cold. How do you feel?” Jimin sighed before speaking. “I feel okay hyung. At the moment it’s pretty much just in my nose and sinuses, probably just a head cold.” Jimin lied, but Yoongi and the others accepted the answer. Seokjin had disappeared at some point and came back with a tray of tea for everyone.

Things weren’t getting much better as the afternoon progressed. Jimin found himself constantly rubbing at his nose in an attempt to quell the ever present itch, and every so often he’d break out into small fits of messy and itchy sneezes. The others were getting more and more concerned about Jimin’s well being, but no one really wanted to press the matter, except for the second youngest.

“Jimin-hyung? Do you want any medicine? It might help with some of your symptoms.” Jimin was only able to nod before pitching forward into a tissue for the upteenth time that day. “Heh-tschh. Me-medicine wou-would be gre-heptschhh great Tae-ah, thank you.” Yoongi was about to get up to look at their medicine stash, but Taehyung stopped him. “I’ve got it hyung.” Taehyung quickly left and returned shortly with the medicine and a glass of water. Jimin quickly took it after Taehyung explained that it was merely a decongestant and painkiller for the headache he had most certainly developed from all the sneezing.

After a little while, Jimin’s headache began to fade along with a small amount of the congestion. He knew however, that unless he could get his hands on some allergy meds, his symptoms weren’t going to get any better anytime soon.

Namjoon and Hoseok had decided they wanted to go to the store to grab some groceries, as they had completely forgotten to shop for themselves when they were getting the pet supplies. Jimin asked to go with, and even though the two older members were hesitant to let their sick dongsaeng leave the dorm, they couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes.

At the store Jimin tried to sneak a box of antihistamines into their shopping cart, but was caught by Hoseok who turned to the cart at just the right time. Hoseok looked extremely confused, but before he could ask anything, Jimin cut in. “They���re for Jungkook, he asked to grab some on our way out.” Hoseok merely nodded knowing that the pollen count was supposed to get pretty high this week. To be on the safe side he grabbed another box and put it in the cart along with the box Jimin had grabbed. They also picked up a few more boxes of tissues for Jimin’s sneezy cold and apparently Jungkook’s impending allergies.

When they arrived home, the trio began to unpack the bags. “Jungkook, here’s the antihistamines you requested.” Hoseok called. Jungkook came out of his room looking confused and was about to say something before he caught Jimin giving him a pleading look. “Right, thanks hyungs. You all are life savers.” Jungkook took the medication and went back to his room.

Now that Jimin was back in the environment with his allergen, his sinuses were burning again. He needed to get the medication from Jungkook. He was almost at Jungkook’s door, when his breath began hitching. He managed to make it to the door before he couldn’t hold back anymore. “Heh-itschh, heptschh, hep-TIEW.” The last one ended up being louder than the other ones, as he hadn’t been able to stifle the force of it. Jimin was able to hear a slightly muffled ‘bless you’ from Jungkook on the other side of the door before it opened.

Jungkook gave Jimin a sympathetic look as he walked into the room. He also didn’t feel like partaking in any smalltalk, so he got straight to the point. “Okay, hyung. Why did I pretend that I asked for allergy meds? I have plenty right now.” Jimin sighed before plucking a tissue from the nightstand and blew his nose before responding. “I don’t have a cold Kook-ah. I’m allergic to cats.” 

Jungkook stared at Jimin, dumbfounded at the revelation. “So your plan was what exactly, secretly take antihistamines and if anybody asked why we were getting more you were going to say they’re for me?” Jimin nodded, a blush creeping up his cheeks out of embarrassment. “Hyung, you need to tell the others, we can’t keep the cat if you’re allergic.”

Jimin’s eyes became wide at that statement “No, everyone was so excited about the cat. I don’t want to disappoint anybody. Let me see how I fare on the meds first, and if I don’t get any better then I’ll tell them.” Jungkook really wanted to tell Jimin was being stupid, but he looked so determined to make it work, he decided to let it slide. “Okay hyung, if the meds aren’t working after they kick in, I’m telling the others.” Jimin agreed to that quickly and took the meds and left.

Now that Jimin was properly medicated, he was doing significantly better. He was still sneezing occasionally, but not nearly as much as earlier. However, he was still sneezing at least once every half hour or so and Jungkook decided that that wasn’t good enough, especially since the plan was keeping the cat. Jungkook decided to call a group meeting.

Everyone looked very confused once the meeting started, because normally they’re only called if there’s a problem that needs to be addressed. “So Kook-ah, why did you call a meeting?” asked Seokjin, genuinely concerned that he had somehow missed tension amongst his dongsaengs. Jungkook got straight to the point. “Jimin hyung has been hiding something, and I feel that it needs to be shared. If he doesn’t say anything I will.”

All eyes turned to Jimin, who was subconsciously rubbing at his  nose. He was so preoccupied with it and how to formulate his answer, he didn’t notice the cat jump onto his lap. But he certainly noticed when the cat’s tail brushed under his nose though. “Heptschh, het-ischh, hicktiew,itshchh, ngxt.” Taehyung was quick to offer some tissues to the slightly older member.

Once Jimin finished blowing his nose he started speaking. “Jungkook’s right, I have been hiding something all day. I’m not sick and I don’t have a cold.” The other members were about to cut in with their own objections, but Jimin held up a hand signalling for them to wait. “I’m allergic to cats. I was really hoping that I had outgrown the allergy, but I clearly haven’t. I didn’t want to disappoint you guys, and I don’t want to get rid of the cat.”

Namjoon sighed as he weighed their options. The easiest and quickest fist of course, would be to take the cat back to the shelter, but he knew Jimin would beat himself up over it. The second option was to leave things be, which Namjoon didn’t really think was viable based on how symptomatic Jimin was. Before he could ponder any more options, Hoseok chimed in.

“Jimin-ah, what if we schedule you an appointment with an allergist? You can probably get an allergy shot or some prescription allergy meds that will be more effective than what we bought at the store.” Jimin nodded excitedly at the idea, and Namjoon was quick to call their manager to schedule an appointment.”

The appointment had managed to be scheduled for the next day, and the doctor gave Jimin a shot saying that if that didn’t resolve his symptoms to his desire, he should take some over the counter meds as well. When Jimin arrived home, the first thing he did was go find the cat to see if the shot was working. To his glee, Jimin’s symptoms had almost entirely disappeared. “Now that that’s taken care of we still need to name the cat.” said Jungkook. Jimin smiled widely and said “Seokyeong, because she’s like a beautiful little flower petal.” All the members agreed happily.

Yeontan warmed up rather quickly to his new playmate, and they soon became best friends. It soon became rather normal for the members to find both Yeontan and Seokyeong curled up together on the same bed. They would also play with each other throughout the day, which relieved all of them, because it meant they succeeded in finding their pup a playmate so he wouldn't be alone so much anymore.

[headoverjojo]

Aaah La Squandra with a Witch S/o please! One with all the spells, potions/cauldrons and familiar. It would be also funny to think of their reactions XD

Hi there darling! Ooooh it was so fun to write those hcs while I was doing the usual HP marathon :,) (And yes, you said please and I’m grateful, thank you :3) Soooo, here we go! I apologise for possible mistakes here and there, I’m too tired to revise now, unfortunately, but I hope to be able to do it soon! And I hope you’ll like my answer :3

La Squadra di Esecuzione with a witch s/o

(Under the cut for length!)

Risotto Nero

Risotto was enchanted by his s/o’s energy. When he was with her, he always felt a sort of thrill, like sparkles. It made him feel… alive. He always craved to be with her, to talk with her, spending his time with her… she was so knowledgeable! She was the only one he liked to talk to for more than few minutes. She had such a peculiar view of the world, it was so refreshing… she saw magic in everything, from a gust of wind to a starry night. His world had always been full of darkness, gloom and regret; his s/o slowly started to make him to see the world in another way, in a more positive way. And she always took care of him! She always claimed she preferred herbal infusions to meds, and she loved to prepare herbal mixtures for her boyfriend. He soon noticed that, as he drunk her herbal tea on a daily basis, he was starting to feel less tired, to feel well rested even if he slept just few hours, to feel energetic and lively as he hadn’t do in ages. It almost seemed… magic!

And he was right, even if he found out just after a while, when his s/o finally decided to reveal to him what she was for real. Risotto didn’t find really hard to believe her; all in all, stands exist, so why witches should not? After a first moment of surprise, he grew more and more curious about her witchy life: how was being a witch in the 21th century? She was so glad to show him her real nature! For the first time, she brought him to her home, and he was immediately thrown into her magic world. Her house was almost like he was picturing it: there were dried herbs hanging on wooden beams, candles, thick and old books… on her clothes hanger there was even a pointed hat! In the centre of the “living room”, there was even a boiling cauldron! She explained him what she did, and that she wasn’t an evil witch, of course, but one who liked to help people. She even prepared for him one of her “herbal teas” -he now knew those were potions- to soothe his tiredness, while he was there with her!

Lastly, she made him meet her familiar, a wonderful big black cat with a long and fluffy fur. She was a bit worried, as her familiar was really selective and aggressive with people he didn’t like, but, in the end, she had nothing to worry about. Her familiar loved Risotto! He let Risotto per him, and he purred as he comfortably spread on Risotto’s lap to enjoy his caresses. She was amazed! She never saw her familiar act like this… and she took it as a good omen. Risotto was really her soulmate!

Prosciutto

Prosciutto never believed in magic. He is a practical man, who believes in what he can see. This doesn’t mean he won’t ever believe in magic; after all, stands exist. He can see them, so they exist. If he’ll ever see real magic, then he’ll believe in magic. And, well, with his s/o, he might even start to believe that magic is real. She’s the most incredible person he has ever met; she’s smart, witty, she seems to know things out of this world. Sometimes she even seems to prophesy few events, especially when he’s about to go on a mission - “business trips”,  as he calls them-; every time she told him to be extra cautious and careful, she was right and, thanks to her, he saved his neck more than one time. Even when he came home injured, she prepared for him a couple of herbal balms to apply to his wounds. He liked them; they soothed the pain and it seemed that, thanks to those balms, his wounds healed faster. He didn’t know if it was just an impression or something more… but it did work, and this was enough to make him happy.

He finally found out the truth when his injuries were too much even for her balms. She hastily carried him to her home, to heal him properly. When he finally woke up, he found himself in a real witchy home: there were candles, ancient tomes, herbs, crystals… even a broom in a corner! And, when his girlfriend came in again, with a fuming cup, she explained him everything, even showing him what she could do. With a simple spell, she fixed his ripped jacket under his marvelled eyes. She showed him how she could manipulate the light, and she reassured him: she was a good witch who had just good intentions! He needed a little to absorb everything; his world had been completely changed! Still… he wasn’t angry or scared; he was more… marvelled and curious. When he came to her kitchen, where she was mixing something in a big cauldron, he asked her how she could do that. How did magic work? Where did she learn to use it? There were so many things he wanted to know!

While she was filling him with information, her familiar, a majestic barn owl, flew inside. The owl perched on his witch’s shoulder, staring at Prosciutto with his intense black eyes, as he was studying that peculiar human. She huffed a laugh, petting the owl, and told him to be good with their guest; even if a little weary, the barn owl approached Prosciutto. Just when he was sure that the man wasn’t a treat for his witch, the owl warmed up on him, becoming friendly; now he was sure that man would have been stably part of their life!

Pesci

Pesci was always fascinated by witches, wizards, magic in general. He even bought the first Harry Potter books when they came out, charmed by the magical context. When he shared his passion with his s/o, he was amazed to find in her a fellow enthusiast! She too seemed to have a deep knowledge of magical lore, and she loved to read books about wizards and witches with him, often pointing out few affirmations and fixing them, or laughing at others, saying that it was too absurd even for witches! And, when Pesci asked her how witches actually did a certain thing, she always knew the right answer. However, Pesci never thought she was a real witch; she had an incredible imagination, but witches, wizards, dragons… they didn’t exist in real world. The existence of stands was already weird enough, but, somehow, justified: stands were, all in all, the embodied full potential of a person. But what was magic, then? A more sophisticated form of stands?  Or something else? He often pondered about it, before sleeping, but he never got a real answer until his s/o invited him to her home for the first time.

The moment he entered their home, it was like being thrown into a witchy house. It wasn’t dark or gloomy, but full of colors and light; a lot of weird plants were around, on the various tables and even hanged on the walls. A lot of books were scattered around, and she apologised for her messy house, while she trotted around picking up books and papers. While he was distracted, she whispered a spell, sending the books on their right places on the many bookshelves. However, Pesci turned around in time to see the last couple of books flying on their own to their spots. He couldn’t speak. Just… how?! There weren’t threads, it wasn’t a trick! Could that be… real magic? He had to know. And his s/o, instead of trying to deny or justify what just happened, told him the truth: she was a witch. A real one, you know… spells, potions, pointed hat, flying broom, boiling cauldron and so on. Pesci felt like he was about to pass out. His beloved s/o was a witch! That was amazing, fantastic!! He wanted to know more about her and her world! His genuine enthusiasm made her huff a laugh and sigh in relief. She was so scared to be rejected!

Lastly, he met her familiar, a funny small bat. Seeing that Pesci was a little uncomfortable, she reassured him: her familiar was a fruit bat! And, after few mango slices, he became really affectionate, rubbing his tiny head on Pesci, who was, by now, totally enamored. Her familiar was so cute, just like her!

Formaggio

In Formaggio’s opinion, magic and such were just crap, bullshits that parents invented for their kids to make them fall asleep faster. Formaggio didn’t grow up surrounded by tales before sleeping, magic and books; his childhood was made of violence, empty alcohol bottles and hours spent hiding in the closet, trying to escape his drunk father’s rage. He was the product of his childhood: a pragmatic, disenchanted man who hid himself behind a funny façade. And, being so pragmatic and tied to the real and concrete world, he liked how his s/o, instead, seemed more carefree, more interested into things out of this world: magic, esoterism, spirituality… it wasn’t so bad. Around her, nothing was what it seemed, and it was impossible to get bored; she just seemed to attract weird and unexplainable events that even a pragmatic person like him couldn’t justify! And he found it extremely intriguing. He wanted to know more about it and about his s/o! And he had the chance to do so when he could go to her place for the first time.

It should have been a normal movie night. Usually, they did it in his flat, but, well… Illuso still had to clean it from his last target’s blood, so it wasn’t a good idea to go there. His s/o didn’t hesitate a second, and, instead, invited him to her house. He entered her home, curious, but she wasn’t the one who had opened the door, as her voice was coming from a bit far, maybe from the kitchen. He looked around, and the first thing that hit him was that her house had… spooky vibes. Candles, books, herbs, little gems… everything was scattered around, but, in that mess, Formaggio didn’t feel a sort of caresselness, but it was like everything was right where it should have been. He stopped in his tracks when he eyed a couple of cauldrons, one slightly bigger than the other, on the big table. The ladles were… moving alone. He scurried near, to check if it was some kind of trick, but nothing. The ladles were just common wood ladles and they were moving alone. Now that he paid attention, there were many things that were moving alone. He spotted a book flying to its shelf, crystals were vibing… he understood what was going on, even if he was still baffled. And, when his s/o came in with a owl perched on her shoulder, his thoughts got a confirmation: she was a witch. He wasn’t scared, or horrified, tho. Deep in his heart, he had always known it. He just huffed a laugh, when he saw his s/o’s anxious face, and hugged her tightly, making her sigh in relief. Finding out that his girlfriend was a witch wasn’t surely enough to make him break up with her!

Melone

Even if Melone is a doctor, a scientist, he hasn’t a closed mind. He’s always open to new theories, new researches and, why not, new conception of reality; all in all, stands, which shouldn’t exist, according to science, exist. So why should he ban something from existence because he can’t see it, or because he still doesn’t know it? This part of him makes his s/o glow in happiness. It makes her comfortable enough to talk about what she knows; herbs, stars, spells… Melone never thought she was just making it all up, or that she was crazy. He thought that she believed in those things for real; and he honestly found her knowledge really fascinating. He often mixed his science to her knowledge, sometimes for work, sometimes just for personal researches. She was baffled and delighted by the results. A wonderful union of science and magic… this was the future! It opened up to so many possibilities… After the umpteenth experiment, she decided to finally reveal what she really was. She wasn’t scared or uncertain: she knew that, deep in his heart, he already knew. And that he would have accepted her as who she was, without rejecting her.

She chose to invite him to her home, in order to reveal him her true self. Entering her home, Melone was welcomed by herbs and plants. There were plants everywhere, potted plants, plants in tiny glasses filled with water, plants in big vases… and the aroma of dried herbs filled the air, so fresh and balsamic… her house smelled of clean, of healing herbs. It made him feel… safe, comfortable. He entered her living room, and, on a big round table, he saw a lot of small pewter cauldrons, various vials and glass ladles. His s/o was carefully putting in the nearest cauldron what seemed a sort of chopped root. She smiled at him, when she saw him, and she just said: “Mandragora. It’s really good for healing potions.”. She knew Melone had understood everything the moment he had entered her house. And Melone didn’t complain, he wasn’t shocked or scared or disgusted. He just smiled at her, reaching her side and, with a kiss on her temple, he asked her what kind of potions were boiling in the cauldrons. She was a witch, evidently, and so? She was a good witch, a healer. A sort of doctor, like him. And he loved her, witch or not.

While she was explaining him her potions, an ermine climbed him, perching on his shoulder. His s/o was incredibly surprised: her familiar usually wasn’t so open to people he had never seen… Melone had to be really special! Not that she doubted it. She had always known that her Melone was an incredible person!

Illuso

Thanks to his stand, Illuso always lived between two worlds: the real one, and the world behind the mirror. He, better than anyone else, knew that reality wasn’t just what they could see and touch, but that there was way more, things that humans still couldn’t analyze, things that humans couldn’t comprehend. He had always been fascinated by these things, things that were beyond human perception and, sometimes, knowledge. He met his s/o thanks to this attitude of his, all in all; both were attending a seminar about paranormal events. After the seminary, they kept chatting, and he was so interested to her theories, her thoughts… it seemed like she knew those things for real, like she practiced them every day. It made him incredibly curious… he wanted to go deeper, to know her better. From friends, they became lovers, and he had never felt so blessed. She was everything he would have wanted and way more; with her he could be totally honest, for the first time, even vulnerable… he even revealed her his stand power. His honesty and trust made her feel grateful and honored; she wanted to return them fully, revealing her most precious secret: her true self.

Illuso came to her home through mirrors, like she allowed him to do. His eyes widened when he saw all the candles, the self-moving objects, the spell books… and his girlfriend, busy disinfesting a curtain from small, winged creatures. When she spotted him, she smiled shyly, hoping wholeheartedly not to scare him, or worse. She didn’t have to worry, however: he wasn’t scared or angry, but just genuinely fascinated. He was loving everything: her house, her wand, her spellings… she was a witch. He, who had always searched around for paranormal events and people, had the “paranormal” right at his side. And he was happy to finally see her like who she really was, without masks, without fear. He would have kept her secret to his grave, and, meanwhile, he would have done everything to help her with her… witchy things, as much as he could. She felt tears building up in her eyes when she heard his words; she couldn’t be happier!

After a while, and while he was browsing one of her book, a big crow, the blackest crow he had ever seen, perched on his shoulder, cawing. He turned to it, curious, meeting the crow’s black, intelligent eyes. She came with a couple of mugs, surprised to see her familiar on Illuso’s shoulder. And he wasn’t even aggressive… this meant just one thing: her familiar had accepted Illuso in their family!

Ghiaccio

To be honest, Ghiaccio never stopped to think about magic, or if it could exist. He simply didn’t care; he had a job to do, he had to focus totally on it, if he didn’t want to die. If something proved itself to be true and real, then he had no problems in believing in it; he did so with stands. One moment he didn’t believe in their existence, the moment he had obtained a stand he started to believe in them without hesitation. His s/o had to spend with him a good amount of time to understand it once and for all. She wanted to be sure he was more than ready to know her secret… and, meanwhile, she enjoyed her time with him. When he wasn’t angry or nervous, Ghiaccio was a really interesting person, knowledgeable, reliable, precise… she liked it so much. And, as further proof of his sincere love for her, he didn’t get angry at her when she was messy or when she rambled about spells, potions, herbs -fictional things, he thought-, as he would have done, instead, with basically everyone else. This and other factors, in the end, convinced her it was time to tell him her secret. She wanted their relationship to be as more honest as possible, and it couldn’t be so, if she was hiding from him what she truly was!

She straight up said she wanted to talk to him, at her place. Ghiaccio was a bit nervous; first of all, a “We need to talk” wasn’t a good sign, ever. Second, he had never been at her place… so it might be something really good or something really bad. He bought a nice bouquet while he was going to her place, hoping that, in case, those could at least sweeten her and make everything less painful. When he entered her place -he had seen strange places, but hers was the strangest of them all, and not in a negative way-, he immediately prompted her to tell him what she had to say: did she want to broke up with him? She had to tell him immediately! His vehemence startled her, but then she laughed, caressing his cheek and telling him that no, she didn’t want to break up with him. She just wanted to… tell him something and then he should have decided what to do. So, without waiting more, she spilled the truth, while petting a big fluffy cat: she was a witch. And she could prove it! With a simple spell, she turned a book into a tortoise, under Ghiaccio’s incredulous eyes. So… so it was all true… magic was real. And she had proved it… after that, he had no more doubts and he accepted it easily: it was true, he had seen it. And he was glad his s/o decided to be totally sincere with him; it was really meaningful to him!

[ghostmartyr]

how a life can move from the darkness [3/?]

| 1 | 2 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Eren had never really had a problem with anxiety, before the drugs and post traumatic stress. Anger, sure, by his mother’s account, but he was usually on the outside looking in with thoughts of the whole crashing down around their ears. He’d worked out a whole program with Armin during finals and AP tests, and not for his benefit.

Holding the bag full of water, with a very tiny red and black striped lionfish inside, all Eren could think about was what a terrible fish parent he was going to be, and that was if they made it back to the apartment without dropping it.

He was so tiny. It was a he, and he was so much smaller than the ones in all the books and pamphlets and the store. Large enough to catch any bad health signs, but still small, and Eren thought that his preoccupation with that meant bad things for how the rest of the day would go.

“I can…” Historia had offered, belatedly, on their way out of the shop.

“I’ve got him,” Eren had said.

Eren wanted to blame it on the drugs. Hating himself for his problems was an easy, distracting burn, even if he kept saying in group it was something he was working on. Freaking out over tiny things because he’d blown up all the larger things was definitely his own damn fault.

Because this was one of the few problems his head had the wrong idea about, they made it through the door with limited drama. The tiny fish and its bag were safely introduced to the bucket they’d prepped for the bit of acclimating it to the tank water, and then it was just taking the right water out and putting the right water in. No dying fish on the floor, flopping about in a puddle of water too small to breathe. Just him and Historia, methodically going through the steps.

Functional people taking care of their new pet.

Eren had volunteered to take on most of the tank duties, not having the stomach for the live food it would need for the start. Historia could handle feeding. He’d gotten used to looking in on the tank and testing the water. The routine was good for him. Hopefully it would be good for the fish, too.

“Do we have a name yet?” he asked.

Historia, already adjusted to the amount of staring the new fish would be on the receiving end of, shrugged from her side of the bucket. “I’ve never been good with names,” she said.

Eren had named Mikasa’s first cat Acker. Armin had called it a travesty. That had been the word for the day on his calendar.

Eren looked around the apartment surreptitiously. Frieda brought over books sometimes. Most of the front room was still so sterile it could pass for a brand new hotel, and Historia never left her textbooks out. Frieda was a little looser, and liked bestsellers with giant names on the covers.

“…Benjamin?”

“Sure.”

By the end of the day, Benjamin the lionfish was safe in his tank, swimming around the rock features cautiously. It was hard to imagine that he would ever need the massive space, but too much was healthier than too little, and if he was anything like a kitten, he’d pop into adult size before they knew it.

“Eren?” Historia asked, twenty minutes into the silent viewing of the replacement for the wall. “Why didn’t you want a pet that could crawl around?”

Historia mentioned to him once that she had trouble remembering to care. One of the reasons she had for not speaking up much at meetings. That part she hadn’t said, Eren just put two and two together. Sometimes, though, she’d remember. Being the only person she was ever around, usually it got aimed at him. She wasn’t bad at it.

“I’m not a very organized addict,” Eren said bluntly. He’d told Petra the same thing, in early meetings, where he was still kicking himself for all the ways he’d done the addiction part wrong. “If I relapse, I’m not poisoning some animal on the way down.”

“Oh,” Historia said.

There wasn’t much else that could be said about that. Eren appreciated that Historia didn’t try. The silence was comfortable instead of the usual deadness, and even with Benjamin mostly hiding, spending the afternoon hanging out with their new pet felt… normal. Almost like they’d made the choice to get a fish themselves instead of his roommate’s big sister instructing them on how to learn how to be human again.

Armin would have loved a picture. Mikasa, too.

His mood took a dip. Concentrating on the tank didn’t pull it back up very fast. Eren thought of both of them when he’d first grabbed the seashell feature in the front corner of the tank. That had caused its own problems, and Historia was the one who placed it in the tank.

Benjamin peeked out from one of his new hiding places.

Eren snapped a shot. Part reflex, maybe part proud new fish parent.

He didn’t have to send it. He told his racing heart and surging temper that, and kept himself trained on the easy bubbling of the tank, and the swirls where Benjamin’s small spines flicked through the water. He didn’t have to send it.

He wanted to. They’d want him to. That was the whole ugly picture, wasn’t it?

----

The nightmares had never gone away. Hopped up on pain meds, that had been hard to admit. Sober, it was harder to deny. Sober, Eren could remember how much worse the pills had made them. The dreams would wake him up in the middle of the night, just as the prescripted relief wore off, leaving him in a demented haze of pain and desperation.

That was where it all started, and it never finished.

Eren didn’t panic when he woke up at three in the morning anymore. He still woke up at three in the morning, feeling blood on his hands and the need to hit things. Lately, his pillow was good enough.

Benjamin helped. He wasn’t awake when Eren would walk out with a blanket and sit under his tank, but it was a weird comfort anyway. He got into a rhythm with the nightmares. Wake up, hit something or don’t, go out and keep the fish company.

Wake up, hit something, go out and spot a creepy shadow outside Historia’s bedroom door, was not part of the system.

Eren was just working out how fast he could tackle the intruder to the floor when they turned around, and a shot of light from Historia’s open door illuminated Frieda.

Who had crept into their apartment at three in the morning to watch her sister sleep.

Eren wasn’t going to tackle her to the floor, but he wasn’t sure he felt any safer.

He could see enough of her face to catch a flinch before the smile he was used to softened the razor edge stillness of the night. She nodded her head down the hallway, back towards the living areas of the apartment, and closed Historia’s door with a silent swish.

Eren let her walk down the hall first. He wasn’t sure what that said about him, but the aftershocks of his nightmare weren’t as comfortably distant as they’d been when he stepped out the hall.

He followed Frieda into the kitchen, where she flicked the lights on at their lowest level. They still hurt his eyes. She sighed and leaned against the counter.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked, gentle as Mikasa’s cat.

The current one had mauled Eren the last time he saw her. A lot of things would be simpler if its owner understood that was the correct reaction.

“No,” he said. “Nightmares.”

She put on her sympathetic parent face. He’d asked, and Historia said she didn’t have any children, but it was not a sisterly expression. There was too much unconditional acceptance for it to be anything but practiced. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

She opened a drawer, pulling out the hot chocolate mix she’d stashed there a month ago. A pan followed, and she walked over to the fridge for some milk. Eren watched until the stress-filled tingling along the back of his neck demanded more than the unsettled disquiet in his stomach.

“What are you doing here this late?”

Another flinch snagged Frieda’s smile. When it vanished, she looked like her sister. He didn’t know her well enough to know if the familiarity was good or not.

“You’re not the only one with sleep problems, I’m afraid,” she said, starting the stove. “I wanted to make sure Historia was safe and sound.”

She made it sound normal. “You do that a lot?”

Frieda cast a tired look over her shoulder, which should have brought on another comparison to Historia, with the number of times he’d watched his roommate stumble to bed, but it mostly reminded Eren of his reflection.

“More than it will do either one of us good to think about.”

It was three in the morning, and his—mom always said he didn’t know how to watch his mouth. “That’s creepy,” he said.

Frieda huffed out a laugh that sounded genuine enough. “I try to be discreet.”

“You don’t think that makes it worse?”

She rolled her eyes at him, but too kindly to put Eren’s hackles up any further. “Eren, this is not behavior you are going to push me into apologizing for,” she said. She took two mugs out of the cupboard. “Embarrassing as it is, my peace of mind concerning my family members is a deal more significant than how off-putting you find it.”

“Historia wouldn’t like it, either,” he said.

“So let’s agree not to bring it up to her, shall we?”

Eren scowled at the floor.

Frieda maneuvered herself to his side of the kitchen and patted him on the head. “Now, about your nightmares. Your mother said they were a nightly spectacle when you were living with her. Have they gotten any better?”

“They’re fine,” Eren said automatically.

“Eren,” Frieda said, “we wouldn’t both be standing here if we were fine.”

He had the suspicion this was how she talked to the kids she worked with. It didn’t make him feel great about himself, but nothing did, really. “Then what about you? You already know all my problems.”

The gentleness in her eyes evaporated, as steady as it stayed in her voice. “My problems are Historia’s problems, so I’m afraid you won’t be getting a word out of me.”

He couldn’t argue that. That didn’t kill the urge. He wished his pajamas had pockets. His hands wanted something to do, and all of the things that came to mind were bad. More generally he wanted to go back to bed if being awake was going to go like this.

A few minutes of silent, distracted exhaustion, which his mom would call stubbornness, passed, ending with Frieda pressing a warm mug into his hands.

“Careful,” she said. “Don’t burn your tongue.”

Eren didn’t take a sip. Frieda took several, not following her own advice going by spasms across her face.

“Are yours getting any better?” he asked. “The nightmares?”

Her mug shielded her mouth. “They’ve been worse.”

They shared in the quiet, for a little bit. Eren half-hoped Historia would wake up, completing their screwed up trio and bringing some balance to the strangeness.

She didn’t, and Frieda left when she finished her hot chocolate.

----

“Frieda will probably be coming by more often,” Historia said, instead of good morning.

It was Eren’s day off, for all of his work, which already made for a rough day, and she was stepping over him to feed Benjamin some guppies. Watching that was not something he needed when he was awake, forget mostly asleep. He blinked groggily up at his fully conscious roommate.

“Why?” he asked.

“The anniversary of our father’s death is coming up.” Historia paused. “She’s sensitive.”

Eren didn’t feel any more awake in the stunned wake of that understatement, but he knew that he needed to be. He rubbed a fist over his eyes and let his blanket fall from his shoulders. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m the one who killed him,” Historia said, answering the question.

Eren thought he was a decent roommate. He kept to his laundry schedule, remembered his nights to cook dinner, checked Benjamin’s water and said hi to him regularly, and didn’t leave out any dishes overnight. The maid service meant a lot of the other things he did right didn’t leave much impact, but he still did them.

He wasn’t sure he was that great a sponsor. Historia helped him through more than he felt comfortable keeping track of. She listened to everything he said in group and at home, and never judged him for any of it. Most of their friendship happened by accident like that. Just having someone there made everything easier for him.

Meanwhile, he didn’t even know what it was she’d got hooked on.

The dead father conversation had yet to go well. Partnering it with upcoming anniversaries was a recipe for disaster.

Historia was his friend.

Eren asked the question he’d wondered for weeks. “Was he why you were in juvie?”

Historia was staring at Benjamin devouring the guppies. Her fingertips were dipped in his water.

“I took a plea,” she said. “Frieda didn’t want me to. She said it wasn’t my fault. It was self-defense.”

The suggestion layered in the words made Eren’s blood heat. He didn’t know much about parenting, but if Historia’s father had done something that had made self-defense a plausible defense, the man deserved to be dead, and Eren had half a mind to dig him up and send him right back.

Historia’s closed-off expression kept him from going there, though. That, and a new question. One that he didn’t think he’d have to ask with anyone else he knew. Except maybe Annie.

“…Was it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

More of her rested on top of Benjamin’s tank. The sleeve of her shirt was in the water now. Eren didn’t bother pretending that something like that mattered in the current atmosphere. He kept his eyes on Historia, waiting for some sign of what his job was in a conversation like this.

“I don’t think he wanted to be the person he was,” Historia said. “I don’t think he really wanted to hurt anyone. Even me.”

His job probably wasn’t to tell Historia that he was glad her dad was dead.

“Frieda thinks it was her fault.”

Eren frowned. “How come?” And their father or the murder?

Historia shrugged again, absently casting ripples. “I could get hit by a bus and she’d still blame herself.” She made eye contact briefly, but it skittered away. She kept talking. “She thinks I’m her responsibility. Because of what our father did. Because of what happened. Because of a lot of things, I guess. She doesn’t want to blame it on me, so she makes it her fault.” Historia flicked the water from her hands, eyes dull as the droplets splashed the surface.

“It’s my fault,” she said.

She said it with a lot of conviction for someone who was wrong.

“It doesn’t sound like it is,” Eren said. “It sounds like it’s your dad’s fault.”

Historia looked down at him. “He didn’t get me addicted to heroin, Eren.”

Eren had spent so much time with Reiner that his eyes automatically went to her arms for track marks. She was wearing long sleeves. She always wore long sleeves, now that he thought about it. Even the borrowed baseball uniform had covered her up to her elbows. When he made his way back to her face she was glaring at him.

Putting that aside, because he really was the worst sponsor, Eren tried to come up with something to say that would actually be helpful.

“…You don’t think killing him had anything to do with that?”

Her glower lost its heat. She pulled out of the water and rested her chin on her waiting arms.

“I made a lot of choices, Eren,” she said after a moment. “Whatever else happened, I’m the one who made them.” Benjamin’s spines flashed by as he searched for more food. “You know what that’s like, right?”

That wasn’t a fair question. Anyone who paid any attention at all in group knew the answer to that, and Historia had nothing else to do since she kept her mouth shut the whole time.

“Look,” Eren tried, wondering how much damage it would do if he told Historia her sister watched her sleep occasionally, “I don’t get all of what’s gone on with you and your family, but it sounds like you’re beating yourself up for a mess your dad caused. You and Frieda. If it was bad enough that you killed him over it, don’t you think you can hate him for it instead of yourselves?”

He thought that sounded like the kind of sense the shrink he’d seen had tried on him. That wasn’t a promising sign, but Historia was hearing it sober, and she wasn’t the one throwing up in public batting cage trash cans.

She didn’t show any sign of hearing him.

He didn’t want to be okay with that. It was like when Armin would smile and say thank you for Eren complimenting some amazing thing he did, then turn around and not believe any of it. Eren had spent years thinking Armin listened to that stuff before he learned better. Learning better had taken spotting a lot of hidden tears. He hated remembering it. He didn’t want that for Historia, but he wasn’t the guy who knew the right things to say with this crap. His friends weren’t supposed to be the ones who hated themselves. They were great. A little beat up and then some with Historia, but there wasn’t any reason for her to think doing a few stupid things made her a bad person. She wasn’t like him.

That might have been the better thing to say. Instead they were both watching Benjamin swim around.

When Historia spoke, it sounded like a ticking clock.

“Eren?” she asked. “With your dad… was it anything like…”

“No,” Eren said instantly.

Nausea and guilt swirled in his gut, the ever-present anger soothing it to a boiling point, but he didn’t have time for it if it didn’t feel like helping his friend. His fists were clenched around his blanket, and pushed against something real and dark instead of a stupid tragedy, he could say the fucking words.

He could feel the blood on his hands, and he could see the light leaving his dad’s eyes, and he could hear the cracked and broken watch his mom had given him for their anniversary, and he remembered just fine how it was all his fault.

But no one had tried to send him to jail over it. Because they hadn’t seen guilt as enough of a reason. Because it wasn’t really the same at all.

“It was an accident.”

Historia turned away from him and Benjamin.

“Good,” she said. “It’s worse when it’s on purpose.”

----

The nice thing about having a fish was that something in the apartment wasn’t broken. The tank on its own had already thrown a lot of structure at them to deal with, but with the addition of Benjamin, there was a thing living in the house that was actually happy. Eren had photos.

Photos he wasn’t sending anyone. Historia had her own collection. Frieda wasn’t his to text. His mom might have liked a few, but Eren though after everything, it was kinder not to remind her that she was the only person her adult son felt comfortable contacting. Reiner was a client.

Zeke wouldn’t really care.

They sold aquarium features that looked like baseballs. Maybe that would help. Only that was the kind of dysfunction Benjamin was meant to be a step in overcoming.

Mikasa would like photos.

Armin would too.

That was where the consequences of Benjamin being the only living thing in the house that wasn’t broken came in.

Eren could watch him swimming for hours, even if he and Historia had both learned that they shouldn’t give themselves permission to do that. Benjamin was alive, and beautiful, and he was theirs. An undeniable positive they were responsible for. There was some peace in that.

Only he couldn’t show anyone who would care. Because of all the things he’d screwed up, he’d had to go for the one thing he should have been willing to suffer anything to protect. He’d turned them into just another broken thing.

Eren sorted through his pictures under the soothing bubbling of the tank.

Broken things got fixed sometimes.

Didn’t they?

----

“I have a problem with making amends.”

THWOCK

“It’s not about working up the nerve, or thinking of a way to do it.”

THWOCK

“I know I have a lot to make up for, and I’m going to.”

THWOCK

“The problem is…”

Eren slammed the tennis ball into the ragged community center wall.

THWOCK

He hated meetings.

“The problem is,” he’d said, feeling like the child he was, whining about kindergarten arguments instead of any of the real, violent issues burning him alive, even though they were all the same damn thing thanks to his everything, “they’re going to forgive me.”

He hadn’t stuck around after that. He should have, and he knew he should have, but it wasn’t going to do the group much good having to pick up a folding chair going through a window or a person, and that’s where the talk was headed.

He’d walked outside, found the tennis ball, and started attacking the wall instead.

THWOCK

He didn’t know what he’d expected, bringing it up.

Like everyone was supposed to feel sorry for him? Commiserate? A circle of people who were trying to get back on their feet, they were supposed to give him advice about rejecting everyone who’d tried to pull him back up?

THWOCK

Or maybe they’d hear all that and agree with him, and stop trying to make the burn of hunger in his veins okay, or act like it wasn’t there, and tell him he never should have even tried to make his way out of the pit as long as he was bringing all the scum he’d picked up on the bottom back up with him.

THWOCK

He hated meetings. So much.

THWOCK

He ran a shaking hand through his hair, the other one numbed with the force of the tennis ball pounding back into it. The tingling felt good. It felt like all the pain he’d been too much of a coward to face.

He threw the ball again.

THWOCK

Historia showed up at some point. A small shift out of the corner of his eye. He tossed the ball her way, and she caught it. Yelena and Zeke had both asked her about joining them for baseball practice. She hadn’t gotten back to them, but Eren had helped her buy her own glove and break it in.

She threw it back, and Eren caught it, and it was like being small and playing catch with his brother while they still had a dad to watch. Back and forth. No conversation because there was nothing to say.

“Do you want to talk?”

Eren didn’t feel very bad when his next throw almost hit her face, and he hated himself and her and the cracked asphalt under his shoes, and wondered if he’d stayed and ate one of Petra’s awful cookies if he’d still be thinking about pills, and how they felt sliding down his throat.

Historia threw the ball back, and Eren caught it.

“They text you a lot,” Historia said. “Your friends.”

The ball almost went over her shoulder.

Historia didn’t take the hint. “I don’t think they’re going to give up.”

Eren gripped the tennis ball. He didn’t throw it. He thought about popping it with his bare hands, and part of him was frothing to start tearing and ripping the damn thing apart because it was there and whole and he fucking wasn’t.

“They should,” he said hoarsely. It was as close to human as he had left.

Historia was considering the wall more than she was looking at him, with the pause in their game of catch. That should have worked to keep the impending meltdown from bubbling over. It was, maybe.

Then she said, “They love you,” and Eren lost it.

He launched the tennis ball right at her, caring very little what she chose to do about that, and shouted. The words scraped his lungs raw. “I know!”

It hit like a hurricane, tossing his sanity and hate and pain through his chest and the rest of him without care, torching the darkness and letting it bleed straight out of him. “I know they love me! I know they’re the best friends I could ask for! But they’re my best friends, and I don’t want them anywhere near a fucking waste of space like me! That’s all I have left to offer them, and they should fucking listen instead of trying to make all of this okay again!”

His eyes were burning. His everything was burning, but his eyes were reaching back into his throat and tightening it around all the words he’d wanted to scream since Zeke took him to rehab.

He screamed them. “I stole pills off Armin’s granddad! That’s how they found out! I stole my best friend’s grandfather’s meds because I couldn’t get through an hour-long visit without fucking myself up!”

The tears were coming and Eren couldn’t care. “And that wasn’t enough. That wasn’t enough to convince them they should all stay the fuck away from me, so they just keep trying instead of hating me!” His voice cracked.

“They should hate me. I...” His fingernails dug deep into his palms. He hoped they bled. “I hate me.”

Stillness found its way back to the empty community center parking lot. He stared down at the ground while his hands shook and he tried to keep the tears from turning into sobs . Gravel shifted around the rough area Historia was planted in, too painfully close and too far away.

He heard her take a breath. Maybe take a step away or towards him.

THWOCK

Pain exploded across Eren’s face, the unexpected force of the blow sent him tumbling to the asphalt.

The tennis ball bounced better than he did.

He was on the ground, clutching his eye, every punch he’d ever taken popping back to life in his scrambled nerves. It had been too long since he’d fought anyone, or even sparred, and the familiarity of brute force crashing into him was gone. All the practice and built up experience collapsed and let his body wail like this was all new.

It hurt.

Historia’s storming footsteps brought her next to him. It wasn’t for comfort.

“Don’t say that.” Her voice was throaty and beyond cold, chilling Eren’s insides, almost distracting from the stunned realization that Historia had just thrown a tennis ball at his face. Hard. Her inhales came sharply. “Don’t.”

Eren opened the eye not covered by both of his hands. He saw a very blurry, starred world full of grays and a spot of bright yellow where Historia was standing. It took a moment for the focus to come back, and for enough tears to leak out for that to matter.

Historia was wearing a look he didn’t recognize from the mirror. Or from anywhere else.

“You shouldn’t hate yourself,” she said. Shaking. Meeting his eye solidly and shaking. Eren didn’t know why that, of all of it, made him want to start really crying. “I don’t know the right words, or how to convince you, but… don’t. That’s…” Something struggled to life in her face. “No one should feel that way.”

He was crying.

There was also blood dripping down his nose. Eren smudged it away with his thumb. They both watched more of it drip onto his jeans. Historia’s hands made a halfhearted motion to help, then seemed to realize she couldn’t do much about blood.

She didn’t try to hug him. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

He missed Armin. Suddenly and as desperate as any of his vices.

He missed his friends.

[next]

[flyingkiki]

Flavor: Vanilla

Quarantine gives me a lot of time to write. Played around with this sexy little idea because I cannot get enough of this adorable pair.

I’ll be working on the requests and prompts you sent me. I’m still accepting requests. Has to be Tim/Rae though, so we can populate this fandom more. Please expect more in the coming days! 

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this! 

Some smutness up ahead.

~~~

“Dude that looks nasty.”

Tim hissed as he tried taking off his uniform. He sent a Jason the best withering glare he could muster through the haze of pain. Killer Croc had gotten him good in the fight earlier, taking a large swipe along the left hip. He gingerly tried to peel his uniform away from the wound. He stumbled towards the med bay where Alfred was already waiting to help treat his wounds.

Dropping cowl, gloves, and utility belt on the table, Tim walked towards the med table. He tried his best to hoist himself on the table without aggravating the wounds too much. What little movement he did though still had blood oozing out of the claw marks. Tim groaned.

“Those are quite a few, Master Tim.” Alfred inspected the wounds worriedly before pulling all medical supplies closer.

Tim groaned as Alfred tried to tug some of his uniform out of the way. He didn’t bother pulling off the rest of his top, Tim didn’t see the need to. “Yeah. That fight was nasty.”

“You have such bad shape, Drake.” Damian commented from the entrance of the med bay. He crossed his arms and gave his older brother an annoyed look.

Tim craned his neck to glare at the little monster of a 10 year-old. “Says the kid that got throw into the sewer.”

“You should go take a shower, Master Damian,” commented Alfred while prepping some of the gauzes.

“Yeah, buddy.” Jason sauntered into the med bay, patting Damian on the head as he passed him. “You stink.”

Damian growled. “Shut up, Todd.”

Tim sighed and leaned back on the table with his elbows to give Alfred better access to the wound. He looked between Jason and Damian, and gave them both a withering glare. “Don’t you to two have anything better to do than stand around here? Like maybe help Bruce with the report?”

“Nah, I hate filing reports,” Jason shrugged and noisily plunked down in one of the steel med chairs. “You’re more entertaining.”

“I like seeing you in pain.” Damian replied, not bothering to move from the entrance of the med bay.

Tim winced as Alfred began cleaning out the wound. “Geez, I feel loved.”

Alfred struggled with cleaning out the claw mark that extended towards Tim’s back. He tried to push the other half of Tim’s uniform away. “Master Tim, perhaps it’s best you remove your uniform completely. I can’t clean this out properly.”

“Uh, fine.” Tim winced and sat up, struggling to get the other half of his uniform off. Unceremoniously dropping it on the floor next to the med table, he gave Alfred an apologetic look. “I’ll pick it up later.”

“Hm,” Alfred did not seem very impressed. Studying his charge’s abdomen one more time, the old man paused, hummed, and continued with his work.

Jason absently fiddled with his phone. Ignoring Tim’s wince, he looked at the younger man curiously. “You up for some pizza and beer? I know this one place that makes a mean thin crust pizza and that fancy black garlic,”

Damian crossed his arms. “Alfred makes better pizza. Don’t go out and eat trash.”

Briefly looking at the young boy, Alfred his eyes softened slightly and he tilted his head just a little bit. “Thank you, Master Damian,”

Tim inhaled sharply when Alfred stitched one of the claw marks closed. Wincing through the pain, he tried to look at Jason. “Nah, man. I don’t think painkillers and beer is such a good idea tonight. I’m heading home after this,”

“Pfft. Pain meds never stopped me,” Jason swung his feet up on one of the extra med tables, much to Alfred’s annoyance. “Nothing happened to me, see?”

“Hah!” Tim laughed through a rather painful stitch. “Beg to differ.”

“Master Jason, could you be so kind and get one of the bigger gauzes in that medical cabinet next to you?” Alfred did not even bother looking up from tending to Tim’s wound.

“Sure,” Jason stood up and rummaged through the cabinet. Pulling out a couple of gauzes, he walked up to Tim and Alfred and placed them on the medical tray. Looking over Alfred’s shoulder he looked at the wounds and whistled. “That’s gonna scar,” Jason straightened and placed his hands behind his back as he continued to talk to Tim. “Imma give you my scarring cream. It works wonders, like I can walk around shirtless at the beach without having to worry about a shitton of scars. It doesn’t work on all of them, but, hey, the ladies always like some battle scars, so that’s okay. You just got to make sure you rub it in properly into the scar, and –”

Jason paused and blinked at his new discovery. A wide grin grew on his face and he switched his gaze between Tim’s pained face and his pelvis. “You kinky little shit.”

“Your mouth Master Jason!”

“What the?” Blue eyes flew open and Tim gave Jason an incredulous look. “What?”

Jason looked like the cat that ate all the cream and walked around the med table, much to Tim’s complete annoyance. Alfred being above all the petty teasing that would unfold in a few minutes, ignored the two brothers and continued with his work. Jason stopped on the other side of the med table and cast Tim a sly grin.

“Never thought you had a kinky bone in you,” crossing his arms, Jason grinned at Tim’s bewildered expression. He bounced on his heels lightly and cocked his head teasingly. “Always assumed you’d be a vanilla sex kind of guy, but this, you make me proud, baby bird.”

Tim looked beyond bewildered and tried to glare at Jason through the haze of pain. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Jason smirked and easily pointed down at Tim’s exposed hip bone on his uninjured side.

Tim frowned and looked down at what Jason was pointing at. His eyes widened and he immediately turned bright red. “Err,”

Jason tutted softly and gave Tim an amused look. “I didn’t know you were sleeping with someone – or seeing somebody for that matter.”

Still incredibly fluster, Tim leaned heavily on his arms and tried he best not to pitch forward and punch the shit eating grin off Jason’s face. He winced when Alfred silently continued patching him up. How long did this take?! “That’s none of your business, Jason.”

Jason looked delighted. “So there is someone!” He clapped his hands in glee once and bounced on his heels, his white tuft of hair falling into his eyes. “Who?”

“What’s going on?” An unmasked Batman stepped into the med bay and skeptically watched Jason patronize Tim.

Damian crossed his arms and threw an uninterested look at his father. “Jason is interrogating Tim about his sex life.”

Bruce threw his 10-year old son a bewildered look while trying to listen in on what Jason was saying. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation, Bruce was sure he needed a Tylenol to fight off the migraine that was slowly starting to build. Looking down at his son, he basically told him to scram. “Go to bed, Damian.”

“But –”

“Take a shower and go to bed. You reek,”

Damian frowned and turned on his heels, marching out of the med bay. Satisfied that at least his minor son was out of the room for whatever sex talk Jason was shouting to high heavens, Bruce sighed. Sometimes it was hard being a father.

“It’s none of your business, Jason.” Tim frowned, his blush still wild and red on his face.

“I make it my business!”

“No you –” Tim paused as Bruce appeared next to Jason. Jason also stopped teasing but continued to give Tim a wide grin.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked looking at his son.

Tim shrugged. “Yeah. We’re almost done anyway. It’s not too bad after all,”

“Hmm,” Bruce nodded. Surveying Tim’s body for any other injuries, his eyes stopped at Tim’s hip. He felt his jaw tighten just a fraction of an inch and he stared at the little red marks on his son’s pelvis. Bite marks. Jesus Christ, he respected his son’s private life but – Bruce tried not to roll his eyes in exasperation. Ignoring Jason’s snickering, Bruce looked back up into the eyes of a highly embarrassed Tim, and he raised an eyebrow. “Make sure to invite your girlfriend to dinner with us one of these days.”

And with that, Bruce turned and left his two sons. He badly needed a Tylenol. Parenting grown men was hard. He could hear Jason howl with laughter.

“Ha!” Jason grinned, taking extreme pleasure out of the embarrassing situation.

Tim groaned loudly in embarrassment and threw himself back on the table, slightly wincing at the impact. Alfred sent him an amused look before finishing up his work.

~

It was close to midnight once Tim finally, finally, made it back to his apartment. He was still in substantial amount of pain, and embarrassment, once he pulled himself into his apartment. All he wanted was to crawl into bed, down a couple more painkillers, and sleep through tomorrow. Adult or not, it was mortifying to have your parent discover how active your sex life could be.

The hallway lights were on when he stepped into his apartment. He was sure that he had switched off all lights remotely. He was also sure that his security system would have detected an intruder. Surveying the hallway for any signs of an intruder, he visibly relaxed when he spotted a pair of familiar boots neatly stacked against his running shoes. Tim smiled.

Sighing softly, Tim pulled off his shoes and placed them next to the boots. Dropping off his keys in the little bowl in the foyer, he padded silently into his huge living room. Walking quietly towards his huge black sofa, he quirked his lips at the sight of long, pale legs and soft swell of a butt with black lace panties sticking out of a bundle of grey throw blanket. Smiling softly at the familiar sight, his gaze lingered at the tempting ass that peeked out of the blanket.

Walking around the sofa, Tim faintly wondered if he should wake her. Thinking it would be best to wake her so she could move into the bedroom with him (since he was in no capacity to pick her up, lest potentially bust his stitches), Tim slowly crouched down and gently touched the bundle of blanket where he could see a bunch of hair poking out.

“Hey,” Tim whispered softly, smiling when the blankets stirred.

Sleepy purple eyes popped out of the blankets. They blinked sleepily at him before a hand underneath the blankets pulled the blanket away and her face came into view. “Hey,”

Tim reached out and pushed some errand purple hair away from her face. “I didn’t know you’d be coming over tonight,”

Her lips quirked a fraction of an inch and she sat up, allowing the blanket to pool around her bare legs. She watched him crouched by the sofa and she eyed him carefully. “Dick mentioned Killer Croc’s attack tonight and I heard what happened.” Her gaze dropped to his torso. She placed her hand on his arm propped on the sofa and gently tugged him onto the sofa. “I slipped out of the tower as soon as I could.”

Tim grunted softly and sat down next to her, wincing slightly at the movement. Smiling at her, he dropped his hand on her bare thigh and squeezed. “Thanks, Rae.” He eyed her curiously.

Raven pushed her purple hair out of her eyes and stared at him. “Do you want something to eat?”

Tim tilted his head and sent her an amused look. “You’re gonna cook?”

“Hmm,” Raven stood up and smirked when Tim eyed her bare legs appreciatively. She nudged his hand away with her knee when it creeped up her leg and under the oversized shirt she was wearing. “I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Tim chuckled and watched her disappear into his kitchen. He heard her pull out their mugs from cupboards and other items she’d need for making coffee and tea. “You didn’t have to sneak out tonight, Rae,” he called into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I know. But I know you,” there was a soft clatter in the kitchen followed by the familiar aroma of coffee. “You’re going to pull your stitches and I’d rather you don’t bleed all over the bed. We just changed the sheets.”

Tim watched Raven reappear into his living with two steaming mugs. A small, playful smile was dancing on her lips as she handed him his coffee and she carefully sat down next to him. “I am touched over your concern of our bedsheets,” he teased and squeezed her thigh.

Raven hid her smile behind her mug and took a small sip. Carefully draping one of her legs over his left leg, she settled comfortably into the couch. Tim’s hand absently stroked her leg and they settled back comfortably.

Tim ran over the evening’s events to her, detailing parts of the fight and Killer Croc’s motive that evening. Raven did not look pleased for the most part of Tim’s storytelling.

“That was a reckless move,” Raven frowned.

Tim shrugged. “He would have gotten away with the kryptonite,”

“Still reckless.” She rolled her eyes when Tim chuckled. Pulling her leg away from his lap, she grabbed Tim’s empty coffee mug and placed their mugs on the coffee table in front of them.  Sitting up next to him, she raised an eyebrow. “Take your shirt off.”

Tim grinned at her and his left hand slid up her bare thigh teasingly. “If you want me naked all you have to do is ask.”

Her lips twitched at his playfulness. “I want to save our bedsheets. Those are my favorite,”

Tim chuckled and slowly tried to remove his white t-shirt. Wincing when he raised his arms, Raven leaned forward and helped him remove the shirt. Sighing, he leaned back to get more comfortable on the sofa with his both of his arms draped over the back of the couch and watched Raven inspect his upper body carefully. His eyes softened. “You don’t have to heal me you know,”

Raven’s expression softened and she offered him a smile. “I want to.” Gently placing her hand on his chest, she leaned forward and offered him a soft kiss on the lips.

Pulling back, Raven started pulling the bloody bandages away from Tim’s body. She paid rapt attention for any discomfort and her frown deepened when she saw the four claw marks that ran across his side. She recognized Alfred’s handiwork easily with the neat stitching but she frowned at how red and bloody the wound remained. She gently touched the side of the wound making Tim inhale sharply and his stomach contract. A little blood slowly oozed out of the stitched wound.

“Sorry,” Raven whispered, she cast an apologetic look at Tim. She sat up straighter and concentrated on the wound. Her hands began to softly flash white and they hovered over the wound as she slowly began the process of healing Tim.

Over the months they had been together, Tim discovered that he enjoyed the feeling of Raven’s powers slipping into and over his body. Despite how people would describe her as cold and deadly, her powers were warm and gentle when they could be. He quickly learned how giving and warm Raven could be, a side which only a very few knew about.

Tim felt the pain of his wound slowly ebb away and his body warmed as Raven’s healing process slowly finished. He felt the familiar tingle of skin restoring. He stared at Raven as she kept an intent eye on his wound. When the soft glow of her hands slowly faded away, he watched her sigh softly and gently ran her left hand along his now injury-free side. His muscles contracted at the warm touch and his body felt infinitely better than it had moments ago.

“There,” whispered Raven. She blinked, feeling a bit woozy from using her healing powers. She cast Tim a small satisfied smile. “Not even a scar.” Her fingers danced over his now healed side and watched the muscle contract under her touch.

Tim grinned and pulled her closer, tucking her into his side. His left hand slid down her back and rested on the dip of her hips. “I have the best and most beautiful doctor to heal me.” Tim kissed the crown of her head.

Raven chuckled into his neck. “You don’t think Alfred will be jealous?” She absently allowed her fingers to dance across his chest, tracing faint scars and moving along defined muscle.

“Al can tend wounds just fine. But he’s not as beautiful as you,” Tim grinned at Raven, who rolled her eyes in response. He absently stroked her hip and made himself more comfortable on the sofa just holding her.

Tucking her head under Tim’s chin, she relaxed hearing his steady breathing and heartbeat. Her fingers absently danced across his chest, tracing scars, and muscle lines and watching as his muscle contracted under her fingertips. Her hand stopped however along Tim’s abs (one of her favorite body parts on him, really), when she caught sight of something embarrassingly familiar.

“Is that?” Raven pushed herself into an upright position and stared Tim’s pelvis, exposed by his low hanging sweatpants.

“Oh,” Tim laughed sheepishly and watched as Raven stared at the love bite on the lower right side of his abdomen, just where his sharp v-line began. Her handiwork from the other night. “I forgot that was there.”

Raven blinked. “And everyone saw this?” To her horror Tim nodded.

“Bruce said to bring my girlfriend over for dinner,”

“Bruce saw?” Raven sighed loudly and dropped her head on Tim’s chest. She listened to Tim’s heartbeat, feeling totally mortified. She felt Tim soothingly rub her back.

“So, would you?”

She lifted her head and gave him a confused look. “Would I what?”

“Come over to the manor for dinner?”

They’ve been together for close to a year already but kept their relationship mostly to themselves. Tim respected that Raven was a very private person. Mainly because they wanted to stay out of the prying eyes of the media. And he knew she worried over Bruce’s reaction over them being in a relationship. Bruce was after all part of the Justice League that once shunned Raven for her demon heritage, that was a wound that Tim knew Raven still carried out around with her. He watched as a look of worry crossed her face.

“They’ll love you.”

Tim gave her an assuring smile and squeezed her hip. He felt his insides warm when she offered him a small smile. He knew that he was lucky to catch these quiet moments with Raven.

“Okay,” she breathed softly and smiled when Tim’s smile widened. Leaning forward, she offered him a long kiss and leaned into him. Pulling away, she tapped his chest with her fingertips and eyed him seriously. “But only after a couple of weeks. I don’t want Batman’s first impression of me being the secret girlfriend that gave his son a hickey next to his penis. My history with him isn’t all too great to begin with.”

Tim laughed and tucked her into his side. His hand slid down her back and sneakily slipped over her lace clad ass. Tim was always very touchy and he grinned when Raven wiggled her ass a little. Absently playing with the edge her underwear, he cleared this throat. “Well, fat chance,” he began. “Jason was there and I doubt he’ll ever let us live this down.”

“Ugh,” Raven dropped her head against his chest.

Tim chuckled. “Jason is an asshole sometimes.”

“All of the time,” Raven mumbled into his chest.

Tim squeezed her hip and nudged her gently. “He said he was surprised that I was into kinky stuff,”

“Oh?” Raven looked up at him and threw him a bewildered look.

Tim grinned playfully when he realized he caught her attention. Cupping her ass, he gave her butt cheek a gentle squeeze. “He said he thought I was only into vanilla sex.”

Raven propped herself up on his chest and raised an eyebrow at a highly amused Tim. “Vanilla sex?”

Tim gave her a cheeky grin and gave her butt another hearty squeeze. “Right?”

Raven pressed her body against his and kissed the underside of his chin. She tutted and sent him a playful grin before casting her eyes down his body and allowing her hand to trail down his chest and abs. Her fingertips ghosted over the dips of his abs and she watched in satisfaction as his muscles contracted. Sliding her palm further down she, smiled when Tim shifted and her hand lay dangerously low on his lower abdomen and she teasingly slid her fingers along the love bite by the sharp v-cut of his hips. “Jason has no idea what he’s talking about,” hummed Raven lowly and smirked when Tim inhaled sharply.

Raven’s fingers teasingly slipped over his low hung sweatpants and she watched in satisfaction at the growing bulge in front of her. She felt him shift and inhale deeply. Raven hummed softly when Tim pulled her closer, relishing the warm press of her body against his.

Nipping his chin playfully, Raven sat up and pressed her hands on his chest. With one fluid motion, she straddled him and rolled her hips into his. Sighing softly at the movement, Tim gripped her the swell of her hips tightly, knowing she’d enjoy the pressure.

Raven rolled her hips and felt his hard cock press against her core. She felt her body burn with desire as she relished the warm contact of their bodies. She felt the Tim’s strong emotions possessively lap against her, she practically purred as her own emotions tangled with his. Gripping his broad shoulders for support, she pitched forward and kissed Tim.

Long, callused fingers gripped her hips roughly, pushing her hips sharply into his. Tim groaned at the contact and allowed one of his hands to slip under her shirt and travel up her bare back. He caught her lips in a heady, desperate kiss. Each kiss was dragging out something primal within them and his fingers dug into her hips, earning him a satisfying roll of her hips and a soft moan.

Raven pulled back slightly, trying to desperately catch her breath. Shifting under her, Tim sat up and made swift work to rid her of her t-shirt. Relishing the feel of skin to skin contact, he sighed softy and kissed her neck. He felt his cock twitch painfully as Raven continued her dangerous rhythm against him. He felt her fingers dig into his shoulders as his hand teasingly ghosted over her left breast before sliding behind her head and tangling into her purple hair. Tugging her hair gently, he angled her head and stole a searing kiss, tongue sliding over hers, and drinking a throaty moan greedily.

“Please,”

Only Raven could ignite such a delicious, delirious fire within him. Groaning softly, he easily picked her up and laid her onto their oversized couch. One of the main reasons why they bought this ridiculously big couch was for couch sex, if they were being honest. Easily tugging off his sweatpants and underwear and her lacy panties, he pressed himself on top of her and hiked her left leg around his hip.

“Fuck,” Tim breathed into her neck at the sensation of her wet, hot heat brush against his cock. Groping her breast, he kissed her neck softly before nibbling on the tender flesh. Pulling away, he kissed her soundly on the lips and nipped her lower lip earning a soft groan and a tantalizing roll of her hips.

“Tim,”

Humming softly, Tim lowered his head and captured one of Raven’s nipples in between his lips. Suckling and nibbling at the perk peak, Tim felt his cock throb painfully at the intoxicating keening noises Raven was making. He palmed her other breast and rolled the other nipple in between his finger.

“I need you,”

It was like a mad scramble of limbs, as Raven became desperate for release. Releasing her nipple, Tim quickly came to his knees in between her legs and positioned his cock at her entrance. Holding her writhing hips and greedily drinking in her disheveled hair and hooded eyes, Tim felt a mad rush of emotions for the intoxicating woman below him. Squeezing her hip, he quickly entered her hot heat in one fluid motion and pressed his whole body over her. Filling her to the hilt, both of them groaned loudly.

“Yes!”

Their movements were loud, wet, and frantic. With what limited space they had left on the couch, Raven wrapped both of her legs around Tim’s hips and frantically met each of his thrusts with her hips, moaning at the delicious friction. She felt full and hot, and so dangerously close of toppling over the edge.

Raven’s fingers dug into hard biceps as Tim continued to fill her to the hilt, his movements more frantic and his groans hot against her ear. Hiking up her right leg just a little higher, Raven clenched around his cock and she let out a throaty moan as he continued to hit just the right spot. She arched her back and pressed herself into his hard body.

“Raven. Fuck,”

“Tim – Oh!” Raven closed her eyes, dangerously close to her own orgasm.

Tim whispered her name like a prayer and pistoned into her, their hips meeting in a frantic haze. The wet sound of sex and moans filled the living room. Groaning loudly, he felt stars explode behind his eyes and felt his release explode just as Raven clenched around him and moaned his name. Collapsing on top of her, they frantically they rode out their orgasms. Tim nibbled her neck, making her moan and clench around his cock.

After a few more strokes, they collapsed against each other in a sweaty tangle of limbs. Raven felt herself slowly come down from the delirious high, and she wrapped her sweaty arms around Tim’s shoulders. Relishing the close contact, she softly squeezed him.

“I love you,” She whispered into his sweaty neck.

Breathing unsteadily against her neck, Tim lifted his head and gave her a languid smile. “I love you too,” he whispered. Leaning down, he tenderly kissed her.

Raven groaned softly as Tim pulled out of her, the sensation sending delicious shivers down her spine. She sighed tiredly when he adjusted their position on the sofa and rolled her on top of him. Gathering her in his arms, Tim kissed her softly once more and pulled her closer. Raven sighed contently as he gently ran his hands up and down her spine. Tim loved to cuddle.

“That was amazing,” he whispered hoarsely into her hair.

Raven chuckled sleepily and snuggled into his embrace further. “So insatiable,”

Tim laughed and squeezed her. “Jason knows shit.”

[audrey-lim]

Raw Nerves - A Good Doctor Fic

It’s ME returned from the void to throw more good doctor fic at y’all before I retreat beneath my troll bridge once more. This one features Morgan and Audrey because they don’t get enough love so I have to give it to them. And I will. 

Title: Raw Nerves

Summary: Morgan's RA causes her to make a mistake during surgery that rattles her. She goes to Audrey determined to resign, and confesses her newly diagnosed RA. Audrey has other ideas. Canon compliant up to 3x15. 

Excerpt: : '“You did that today. You were ready to give up on all of your ambitions, on the thing that you have worked for, set aside your pride, and all your hopes for your own future in order to do what you felt needed to be done for your patients. I’m proud of you.” 

The shaky smile that lit Morgan’s face at that was both heartening and depressing. Heartening because it was obvious that it meant something coming from her; that she carried enough weight with Morgan for her pride to matter. Depressing because it was obvious they were words she’d rarely heard.'

Link: AO3 

“Doctor Lim?”

Audrey paused, about to enter her office, and turned to find Morgan hovering outside it, hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides, looking tense.

“Doctor Reznick, can I help you?”

She was fairly sure she could. Audrey knew an ambush when she saw one. Reznick had been waiting for her to get back and after the events of the day, she wasn’t all too surprised to find her here.

Taking a deep breath, Morgan said shakily, as though she was having to force out every word, “I would like to remove myself from the residency program. I no longer think that I’m capable of dealing with it.”

Audrey blinked. It took a lot to surprise her. She’d been a trauma surgeon for the better part of twenty years. She’d seen every ugly, gory, messy piece of humanity; both inside and out. This surprised her.

“I wanted to thank you for this opportunity,” Morgan continued. She had now clasped her shaking hands in front of her. It seemed to be taking every bit of composure and grit she’d built up since starting her residency to get through this. “It’s been an honour working with you, Doctor Lim. I learned a lot.”

She only just managed to choke out the last word. Then she stood almost defiantly, head held high, back almost painfully straight, and gave Audrey a slight nod.

A beat of silence followed this emotional pronouncement, both women staring at each other as the moment swelled. Audrey burst it. She’d never been one for dramatics. That was firmly Neil’s department.

“Come in here,” she said, nodding towards her office, stepping inside and then holding the door.

Morgan remained standing stiffly, eyes glassy, a muscle feathering in her jaw as she fought to control herself.

“Please,” she bit out, finally, “Don’t make this any harder than it already is. I don’t want it to be drawn out, I don’t want to be processed, and fill out paperwork. I don’t want you to hold my hand and tell me I’ve done a good job and I should be proud of myself, and that I shouldn’t think I’m weak or whatever other managerial bullshit you’re required to spout now as my chief. I just...I just want to go. Please.”

That last word undercut the strong defiance in the rest of her little speech.

Audrey was unimpressed.

It had been a long fucking day. She was tired, she was sore, she was pissed off. She wanted to go home, open a bottle of beer, and put on one of the gardening shows she taped and would never reveal to anyone outside of her bad-tempered cat that she watched willingly.

“Morgan,” she said, emphasising the word with as much ‘I don’t have the energy for bullshit right now’ tone as she could muster, which was a lot, “I’m not asking you to come in and have a cup of tea with me as your mentor or friend. I’m telling you to get into my office as your chief of surgery. Do you understand?”

“Okay,” Morgan said, finally. 

She stiffly moved into the room and Audrey hurried her on with a wave of the hand before closing the door and tilting the blinds. The hospital was designed in a very open, minimalist style with plenty of glass walls and doors to let in the light. It was great for her plants, but she had never liked the feeling of existing in a fish bowl, with passersby able to ogle her whenever they felt like it.

Audrey moved behind her desk and sat down, gesturing Morgan towards the chair opposite her. She sat slowly, still looking a little thrown. Clearly whatever she’d expected Audrey’s reaction to be, it hadn’t been this.

She leaned down and rummaged in a drawer for a moment before pulling out a box of tissues, which she nudged pointedly across the desk.

Morgan stared at them then, with a touch of her usual arrogance, said, “I haven’t cried in front of another person since I was eight.”

“Maybe you should,” she observed mildly, steepling her fingers in front of her, reminding herself irresistibly of her first chief of surgery.

Morgan blinked incredulously, the context of the situation temporarily lost to the situation, “This? From you?”

Audrey raised her eyebrows.

“I just mean,” Morgan amended, forcibly softening her tone, “That you’re not exactly the most...Emotionally frivolous person I’ve ever met.”

She smiled at that. Emotionally frivolous. She had to remember that. Neil would get a kick out of it, she was pretty sure, and immediately resolved never to let him hear it.

“Fair,” she conceded, “But I’m not devoid of emotion; I just control it. There’s a difference. And I also know when controlling and holding everything back is no longer the best course of action. Sometimes you need to let a wound bleed before you can patch it up. So-” she pushed the tissues closer still to Morgan with the aid of a pen.

Morgan drew the box to the edge of the table in a small sign of acquiescence, but didn’t take one. Well, miracles took a little bit more work than the impossible, she’d take what she could get.

“You have been the most obviously ambitious and driven resident at this hospital from day one,” Audrey said bluntly, leaning forward, hands clasped once more.

She didn’t see the point in beating about the bush. Not this late in the day. And not with Morgan. Straight talking was a trait they both shared and appreciated in each other.

“Tell me why you want to leave now. Without any mention from me or Doctor Melendez. And more importantly, without any kind of fight.”

“I could have killed that boy today,” Morgan whispered shakily.

“You didn’t,” Audrey pointed out.

Confronting your own mortality was hard enough. Confronting the fact that you were fully responsible for another human being’s mortality was something else. Even the hardest, most reserved and arrogant surgeons she’d ever worked with had met that beast and been shaken by it. She sure as hell had.

“I could have,” Morgan said, more forcefully. Her voice broke back down to that of a frightened child realising how small they really were in the face of the world for the first time again as she added, “That scares me.”

“Good,” Audrey said bluntly.

One of her previous mentors had observed that, with her scalpel, she had all the true delicacy that a surgeon needed. With her words, however, she could somehow have all the subtlety of a scalpel. She figured there were times for scalpels, and times for sledgehammers, and that was just how she was.

Morgan looked up from her focused contemplation of her own hands looking shocked. Audrey rather liked being able to produce that effect in her. In any of her residents. It was good to challenge them, push them out of their comfort zones, tease something new from them.

“We’re not superhuman,” she went on, when it became clear Morgan wasn’t going to be able to find a reply to that. For once. “You fucked up. It happens. Surgeons are trained to achieve perfection every single time, with every single thing that they do. That’s because when we don’t people can die.”

“Well I definitely fucked up today,” Morgan whispered, shuddering.

She stared down at her hands again, as though she could still see the mess she had made stained upon them. That might linger for a while. Audrey hoped it did. She still had blood on her hands after years of scrubbing. If she ever lost that she’d leave this profession she loved and never come back.

“You did,” Audrey agreed. No point sugar-coating it. “That’s the fact of the matter. The big secret that everyone knows about surgeons; and no-one wants to admit. That mistakes can happen. We’re flawed. We’re human. Shit’s going to happen.”

Morgan shook her head slightly.

Audrey knew that feeling. She had believed she could be perfect. She had believed she could get through all her surgeries flawlessly and never make a mistake. She’d believed that herself. When it had all come crashing down it had nearly crushed her.

There were a lot of make or break moments on the road to surgery. This was usually one of the first. How did you deal with your first big error. What did you do when you realised how easily you could kill someone? A lot of people couldn’t handle that kind of responsibility.

Med school was all about saving lives. Helping patients. Doing good. Beating the odds. Changing lives.

Residency was when the real world kicked back in. That was when you remembered that the harsh realities hadn’t disappeared while you were buried in books. And that those who had the power to save lives; equally had the power to lose them.

“You fucked up,” Audrey said, drawing Morgan’s eyes back to her, “But you handled it. You put that boy’s life in danger with your mistake. Then you saved it. He’ll go home tomorrow with his parents and his life will change for the better because of what you did today.”

“It could so easily have gone the other way. His parents could be going home right now making funeral arrangements because of me.”

“But they’re not. That’s also because of you. A monkey could nick an artery in the middle of surgery - anyone can do that. Not everyone can handle the situation afterwards. That’s the difference,” Audrey said.

Morgan blinked. Audrey enjoyed the effect of her processing the rollercoaster of that little nugget of advice for a moment.

Then she said, more seriously, “If we kicked out every resident who made a mistake during a surgery the world would very quickly run out of future surgeons.

“I don’t want to leave because I made a mistake,” Morgan said rigidly, her jaw clenched, that same feeling that she was having to force out every syllable back in her tone again, “I want to leave because I should never have been able to make that mistake in the first place.”

The deep breath she sucked in to compose herself shook audibly in the quiet of her office. Morgan hesitated, then reluctantly yanked a tissue from the box in front of her and proceeded to twist it between her hands, fraying it.

“I should never have been in that OR today. I shouldn’t have been in one for a while,” she finally got out, with the same aura of a person relieving the darkest sins of their soul in a confessions box.  

“Why not?” Audrey pushed.

Sometimes you had to apply a little pressure, cause a little pain, to get to the root of a problem before you could yank it out and stitch up the wound.

Morgan stared at the tissue she was now shredding between her fingers without really seeing it. Audrey was impressed with her steel as she managed to swallow, actually look up with her head high, when she spoke next.

“A few weeks ago you noticed that I was...Shaky during the tracheal surgery. I told you that I hit my finger with a hammer while I was hanging a painting at home…”

Morgan closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. The words were barely distinct when they came, but they came. For that Audrey commended her more than anything she had yet seen from the young woman.

“I lied to you.”

The admission hung heavy in the air for a moment, both of them hearing it and processing the implications, the enormity of this moment in the life of Morgan Reznick.

“The truth is,” Morgan said, her whole body shaking along with her words now. “The truth is that I-” She broke off and reached for another tissue, having successfully crumpled the first into a mulch of confetti in her agitation. She used this one to dab at her eyes which had started shedding tears against her concrete will. “The truth is that I...I…”

“You have rheumatoid arthritis,” Audrey said, gently.

She’d heard enough. Morgan had done enough to convince her she was ready to tell her the truth and trust her with this most vulnerable new aspect of her existence. She wasn’t cruel. She was a mentor. She was there to challenge, and push, but also to guide and assist where she was needed.

Morgan stared at her, eyes wide, every other emotion forgotten for a moment in the face of her shock.

“How did you know?”

Audrey gave her a rueful smile. “You told me that you hit your hand with a hammer, Morgan. I’ve never seen more perfectly manicured hands in my life,” Morgan gave a small watery smile, staring down at them. “No cuts, no bruising, no marks whatsoever,” Audrey said, shaking her head. “In future if you’re going to lie to my face, at least put some effort in.”

Morgan huffed a soft laugh at that, dabbing her eyes. “To be fair I was under a lot of pressure.”

“Well I’m glad you stitch better under pressure than you lie,” Audrey observed.

“That’s why I became a surgeon and not a lawyer,” Morgan joked. Then her face crumpled and she had to bite her lip hard to stop herself crying. Audrey was about to reach out to her when she coughed and said, with forced composure, “How did you know it was RA, though? It could have been something else, something other than what I’d said.”

Audrey sighed heavily. “I’m not an idiot, Morgan,” she said flatly. “You have a family history. I have eyes. And you decided to confide in Glassman who, for the record, lies even worse under pressure than you do.”

“He promised me that he’d give me a chance; that he wouldn't’ say anything to anyone,” Morgan mumbled.

“And he didn’t,” Audrey admitted, “Not until I implied that I already knew and then, well…” she trailed off with a shrug.

“So...So how long have you known exactly?” Morgan asked, now frowning slightly.

“A few months or so,” Audrey replied calmly.

“So you’ve just been waiting for this,” Morgan said, gesturing stiffly, “Ever since you figured it out?”

It was obvious she was trying to control the anger and frustration Audrey had known this would provoke in her. She was largely failing.

“Yes, I have,” she said evenly.

Morgan scoffs, shaking her head. Audrey sat up a little straighter and prepared herself with the rebuttals she had worked out for this eventual confrontation. Morgan surprised her however, “Then why didn’t you just fire me on the spot as soon as you found out? Why did you let me keep going on as a resident when you knew I was...Compromised,” she spoke that last word as though it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Audrey leaned back, considering her. She’d expected an angry tirade about why she had let Morgan continue in pain and fear all this time without reaching out to her. She wouldn’t at all have blamed her for asking that; it was a valid question. She’d spent a long time weighing the pros and cons of each option.

She took a moment to adjust to the altered trajectory of the conversation, then said carefully, and honestly, “I wanted to see how you handled the situation. That’s part of being a good attending. If you dive in the second one of your residents makes a mistake, or encounters an issue, and fix it for them, they’ll never learn or grow. Neither will you. You’re always learning in this job and anyone can have an idea you would never have thought of. You miss those opportunities if you’re too quick to assert what you think is right onto a situation.”

Morgan nodded stiffly, and Audrey softened her tone and added more gently, “It’s not easy. And this is not a decision that I took lightly in any way. But...You received a setback. I wanted to see how you recovered. And you did. The same way you did today in surgery. You dealt with it before it became a problem that I had to intervene in because you no longer cope with it yourself.”

“So you just...You used it as a test?” Morgan said, sounding hurt and betrayed, in spite of herself, Audrey knew.

The relationship between an attending and a resident was a lot more intimate than someone who hadn’t experienced it could ever understand. There was a lot of trust, that went both ways. But especially from the residents. Their attending was someone they could look up to, someone they knew would have their back, be in their corner, but who also made all the decisions in their day-to-day lives.

It was a relationship with a big, natural power imbalance, and it was difficult to negotiate from both sides.

Audrey loved it. She loved being able to teach, being able to learn from her residents. She loved being able to guide, and train, and help her surgeons thrive. And she thought she was suited to it.

She’d met attendings who worked the way Morgan assumed she had. She’d had them use those tactics, and play those games, with her. And the betrayal cut deep.

“No,” she said, voice still gentle, “This isn’t a game, Morgan. This is your life, your career, your dream. I get that,” Morgan looked up at her, a kind of desperation in her eyes, seeking that validation, the validation of someone who understood her and her love for this job.

“But you didn’t say anything,” her voice wasn’t as accusatory as it had been a moment ago, but there was still an element of distrust in it.

“No, I didn’t.” She took a deep breath, wondering how exactly to explain herself, “Being a good surgeon is about more than knowledge or skill-”

“You have to care,” Morgan interrupted, with thinly veiled sarcasm.

Audrey smiled, thinly, “We all care, Morgan,” she said wryly. “Maybe not as openly as someone like Claire, or as abstractly as someone like Shaun, but no-one does this job if they don’t care. That’s a given. I don’t care what anyone says, how aloof they appear, how emotionally frivolous,” she caught Morgan’s eye and they shared a small smile, “They care.”

“I do,” Morgan mumbled, a little unnecessarily, but she could be forgiven under the circumstances.

“You can teach surgery,” Audrey said, “You can teach technique, and medicine, and even how to cope under the kind of pressure situations we face. But you will never be a truly great surgeon if you can't be aware of your own flaws and manage to overcome them.”

Morgan swallowed, and Audrey was sure she felt this was going to go in the direction of ‘your RA is a flaw you can’t overcome, so you can never be a great surgeon’. It wasn’t. She was kind of offended Morgan still expected her to go that conventional route. Audrey was many things but she tried, as a rule, to never be conventional.

“ You have to be able to take yourself out of the equation. You have to be able to make decisions beyond yourself - to ignore your own feelings, your own beliefs, and judgements. Your hopes and dreams, and demons, all need to go inside a little box in your head that you throw out of a window every morning before you come to work. You have to be able to do what is right for your patients, no matter what it costs you, or how hard that might be.”

She saw a faint spark of hope rekindle in Morgan’s eyes, and endeavoured to tease it into something stronger, bring back that fire she was known for.

“You did that today. You were ready to give up on all of your ambitions, on the thing that you have worked for, set aside your pride, and all your hopes for your own future in order to do what you felt needed to be done for your patients. I’m proud of you.”

The shaky smile that lit Morgan’s face at that was both heartening and depressing. Heartening because it was obvious that it meant something coming from her; that she carried enough weight with Morgan for her pride to matter. Depressing because it was obvious they were words she’d rarely heard.

“This really wasn’t a test?” she whispered the words as though they were a question, but both of them knew it wasn’t. Not really.

“Life is a test,” Audrey said, frowning slightly at how unfortunately philosophical that had sounded. “This is just something that you had to face during the course of it. It was a choice you had to make. It’s a choice that every resident will have to make before they qualify. Or they won’t. It’ll come from different places, and affect you all in different ways...But it always comes.”

“So if I hadn’t done this...If I hadn’t come to you and told you the truth…”

“If you hadn’t been able to make this decision I would have made it for you,” Audrey relied brutally. “But today you showed me that you could. You have the self-awareness and understanding to put aside your ambitions, and your dreams, and your fears and admit when you can’t do something.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t come to you sooner,” Morgan said, slowly. “Both in the sense that I feel guilty for lying to you by omission for as long as I did...But also because I think it would have made things a lot easier for me.”

“Being a resident is tough. It’s competitive and it can be cutthroat. Showing weakness or vulnerability to your superior is tough, too. Especially as a woman. Especially as a woman with a newly diagnosed disability.” Morgan flinched slightly at the use of the word, but didn’t challenge it. “I get it,” Audrey said, nodding.

“That day you confronted me in the locker room - you figured that I’d made a complaint preemptively to try and protect myself...It just made me so sure that if I came to you about any of this...You’d fire me on the spot,” Morgan admitted quietly, addressing the mess of tissues still clutched in her hand.

Audrey sighed heavily at that. “I know,” she said ruefully, “But I had to impress upon you that certain tactics weren’t going to work with me, and that you’d only cause more harm with them.”

“I understand,” Morgan said, nodding, “But...You knew then, right?” She nodded. “I know what you said about seeing how I coped and having to make decisions but...Why didn’t you just come out and confront me then and there? Force me to deal with it, to make the choice then?”

“I considered it,” Audrey said honestly, “But I decided that forcing this out of you before you were ready wasn’t going to be very productive. I didn’t want you to feel like I was another odd stacked against you in the hand you’ve been dealt. I thought that the likelihood of you responding was low, and that the chances of you turning defensive and lashing out were pretty high.”

“You just...Let me struggle alone,” Morgan said, her face becoming more closed as she said it.

“Yes,” Audrey admitted quietly.

It hurt to say. It hurt to hear. But it needed to be said. She wasn’t going to lie and deny that she caused pain. She just had to lay it bare and hope it had been worth it.

“Why?” Morgan breathed. She knew. They both knew. But Audrey understood why she had to ask. “Why didn’t you help me?” she said, voice breaking. “I- I needed help.”

It took all of Audrey’s self-control not to flinch at that.

“I know,” she said, as gently as she could. She reached across her desk and gently squeezed Morgan’s clasped hands. She waited until she looked at her to add, “BUt you couldn’t ask for that help. You couldn’t admit to needing it. Before today, you wouldn’t have been able to accept it, either, even if I had tried to give it to you.”

“You couldn’t have known that,” Morgan accused, shaking her head and pulling back.

“But I did,” Audrey said quietly. She had to proceed carefully, now. Her scalpel was balanced precariously in the middle of a network of raw nerves. One wrong move would do irreparable damage. “We know our residents a lot better than they think we do. A lot better than you all probably want to think about,” she added musingly. “But I also know,” she went on, before Morgan could interrupt, “Because I’ve been where you are now.”

Morgan looked startled, “You have-” she began, and Audrey swiftly intervened to correct.

“Not exactly where you are,” she said, and Morgan deflated a little. “But you still remind me of myself when I was a resident.” Morgan looked up again, head cocked slightly to one side, looking genuinely curious now.

As a general rule she tried not to reveal too much of herself to her residents. Her personal life was hers. She wasn’t the most fiercely private person at the hospital. But there were lines, and boundaries, and in her experience it was best to be careful when crossing them. This was one of the times she felt it would be a benefit to share her experiences as a person, not just a doctor.

“I was underestimated, too,” she began, “I was smart, driven, ambitious, and talented.” There was no point denying your own worth to anyone; least of all yourself. “I was also the one they waited on to fail every day. I was the one they wanted to see fail. And so I had to be twice as good every step of the way to prove them wrong.”

Morgan nodded, a small, unconscious thing, Audrey’s words resonating with her.

“For me ‘they’ were my superiors in the program - dusty old white men who felt challenged and threatened by very existence in their hospital.”

“With good reason,” Morgan muttered.

She blushed, telling Audrey the words had slipped out accidentally. But she smirked, pleased. “Quite,” she agreed.

Neil had confessed to her over drinks that he was never sure how she’d restrained herself from breaking bones in their chief’s body on more than one occasion. She told him she’d satisfied herself with breaking all of his records in surgery instead. Which she had. Repeatedly.

She took a breath and softened as she returned to the task at hand, “Your ‘they are your family. And, more importantly, yourself.”

Morgan glanced up at her, apparently both wanting, needing her to go on, to understand...And also terrified that she actually might.

Audrey went carefully, slowly, “You need to prove to yourself that you should be here. You need to know that all the bridges you’ve burned, all the opportunities you’ve turned down, all the things you’ve sacrificed, all the fights that you’ve had...You need to know they were worth it.”

Morgan met her eyes then slowly, tremulously, she nodded.

Audrey smiled sadly and continued, “Living every day under that kind of pressure..Eventually it breaks you.”

Morgan shook her head in disbelief, “I find it hard to imagine you ever breaking.”

The smile Audrey gave her this time was rueful. She would have loved that to be true herself, but she knew damn well it wasn’t.

“Oh believe me, I broke,” she said with a humourless laugh. “It wasn’t pleasant. But it forced me to finally ask for help, and to acknowledge something about this job it takes a long time for most residents to realise.”

“That we aren’t invincible?” Morgan said quietly.

Audrey understood that feeling, too. There was a rush to surgery that she had never been able to replicate. Not with her bike, not with sex, not with anything. Knowing that you had saved a person’s life; that they would be dead without you...It could very quickly go to your head, make you believe that you could do anything.

Coping once that bubble burst and the dam it had kept on the real world crumpled and it all came rushing back in was tough.

“Yes,” she agreed, “But it taught me that we don’t exist in a vacuum. No matter how good you are, no matter how many things you can do, no-one can do everything alone. No matter how much they might want to,” she added, correctly interpreting the wry look on Morgan’s face. “And we’re human. Holding yourself to impossible standards every day is only going to truly change one person - yourself.”

Morgan blinked, surprised. “But you did change people’s minds, didn’t you? You proved yourself to your superiors - all the men who thought you couldn’t do this job. You proved them wrong.”

“I did,” Audrey said, “But it didn’t change as much as I thought it would at the time. Everyone else will think what they want to think, regardless of what you do. Their thoughts won’t affect how you do your job. Destroying yourself trying to prove a point to them will.”

“This is all very inspiring and everything, Doctor Lim,” Morgan said shakily, staring down at her hands again, “But there’s a major difference in our stories.” She raised her head and looked Audrey in the eyes when she said, “You didn’t have a chronic incurable condition eroding away your nerves.”

“No,” Audrey agreed gently, “But I had to deal with a lot of prejudice - which, believe me, can be just as chronic, painful, and incurable as rheumatoid arthritis. Not to mention the effect it has on the nerves.”

Morgan managed a weak smile at that, but it quickly faded as she sobered once more, shaking her head, staring down at her hands again with a look of such betrayal in her eyes it hurt to watch.

“It’s not the same,” she whispered, tears forming again, despite her obvious attempts to hold them back.

“No,” Audrey said again, and Morgan looked up at her once more. “BUt they’ll say the same thing to you that they said to me,” she told her. “The same thing that they said to Murphy. They’ll tell you that you can’t.”

“And they’ll be right,” Morgan interrupted with a hysterical note to her words now.

“They don’t get to decide that,” Audrey cut in firmly. “You do. You proved that to me today. If you know what you can’t do, if you understand your limitations, then you know what you can do, and you understand your own capabilities.”

“And that’s enough?” Morgan said, with obvious disbelief.

“It’s enough for me,” Audrey replied.

She’d made her decision on this. One of her friends from med school had specialised in rheumatology and they’d had a lot of late night conversations and dinner meetings about this. The condition was damaging, but it was also variable, and relied a lot on the individual’s understanding of their own well-being and function day to day. She’d decided that if Morgan could prove she could master that, she still had a place at this hospital on her team.

The visible relief that flooded Morgan’s body seemed for a moment to sweep away every bit of pain she was in. Her eyes brightened again, and for the first time in weeks, Audrey felt that fire from her again.

“It will not be unconditional,” she said quickly. She didn’t want to ruin this moment for Morgan, but at the same time she had to establish boundaries. “I will trust you. If you tell me that you can do something, then I will let you do it. But I also need to know when you can’t do something, or if you’re unsure at all.”

Morgan bit her lip, and Audrey thought she could sense the reason for her hesitation, so clarified.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal. I don’t need you to come in here every morning with a neon sign detailing where you’re at on a pain scale. We can work a system between us - but I do need to know.”

“Of course,” Morgan said. She was nodding eagerly now, sitting up straighter, perching on the edge of her seat, looking alive and intent, ready to do whatever it took to be a good doctor.

“And you’re to keep seeing your rheumatologist regularly,” Audrey went on, “I would like to be kept up to date with your progress, your meds, any new symptoms. If things get worse, if they get better. I’d like to know your options.”

“Alright,” Morgan said, though she looked a little more uncertain.

“This is not something I can force you to give me,” Audrey clarified, “It’s your choice to divulge those things to me, and it’s your right to keep them from me, but it will help me, which will help you, if I understand as much about your condition as I can.”

“I’ll forward you over all of my notes tonight,” Morgan promised, a spark of defiant resolution in her eyes that Audrey decided against challenging.

“I also think,” she went on, tone softening as she knew how this was likely to be received, “That you should tell the team about this.”

Morgan balked visibly at that, which Audrey understood. The competition the program fostered between them all was good, and generally healthy, producing good results, but it made it difficult to confide weaknesses. This was something that frustrated her, as understanding the weaknesses of your coworkers was as important as knowing their strengths.

She raised a placating hand, “Like I said, it’s not something I’m going to force you into. I know that it’s hard, I know that you don’t want to, but I think that it might help.”

“I don’t want them to treat me differently,” Morgan said quietly.

“I know. But you should be,” she started. “You have a disability, Morgan,” Audrey said, as gently as she could while not sugar-coating the facts of the matter. “That’s hard to accept, I know that. But it does change things. And it means that some things will have to be changed in order to manage that. Accommodation is not a bad word, and having team members who understand what you’re going through and can support you will not make you weak, or less talented, or less deserving of a place among them.”

“I know,” Morgan said, “Logically I know all of that. It’s the same advice that I would give to a patient in my position reacting the way that I am but…”

“But emotion is the death of all logic,” Audrey said with a sigh, “Humanity throughout history has struggled with this. I don’t expect you to come up with a solution for it in an afternoon.” Morgan relaxed at those words. “But I do think you should at least consider what I’ve said,” she added firmly.

“I will,” she promised in turn.

“Alright then,” Audrey said, pushing her chair back and getting to her feet. She could almost taste the kiss of the fresh air on her skin and she was ready to embrace it on her ride home.

“Morgan remained sitting, looking a little shell shocked by the abrupt end of their meeting. “You’re...You’re really not getting rid of me?” she said, as though she felt stupid asking but couldn’t stop herself.

“No, I’m not,” Audrey said with a small smile. “Not unless you want to tell me right now that you don’t think you can contribute anything to this team anymore. That’s the only reason I would have for letting you go. Are you going to tell me that?”

“No,” Morgan said defiantly, also getting to her feet. “I can. I will.”

Audrey smiled. “Good. Then go. Do.”

Morgan actually smiled. It had been a long time since she’d seen that expression on her face.

Audrey stepped out from behind her desk and moved towards the door. “Then I think we’re done. Good night, Doctor Reznick.”

Morgan smiled and marched briskly to the door, which Audrey was now holding open for her. “Good night, Doctor Lim,” she said formally, giving her a small nod.

She moved to walk out of the office, hesitated, then, in a sudden rush, turned and pulled Audrey into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” Morgan breathed in her ear, squeezing her a little more tightly than was strictly necessary, “I promise I won’t let you down.”

Audrey recovered from the shock of the move and patted Morgan on the back a few times until she released her.

“You’re welcome,” she said warmly, “And I know you won’t.” Morgan nodded again, looking confident and renewed. “See you tomorrow,” Audrey said with a smile.

Morgan smiled back, “See you tomorrow.”

[ruthoakenshield]

The Lady in Black Leather (chapter 8)

The Lady in Black Leather (chapter 7)

You get back to the apartment with Aiden and Scarlett and they let you go off to your room. You sit down on the bed and sigh. It would be easier on you if you just moved in with Richard, but you truly felt you just needed a break from living with men and had a place of your own.

You took off your corset, carefully hanging it up to air out. You decided to get a few more so you weren’t wearing the same two all the time, if your finances allowed it this month. You took off your skinny jeans, socks, underwear and shirt and tossed everything into the laundry basket in the closet. Then you went into the bathroom, let down your hair and climbed into the shower.

You stood there under the warm water thinking about Richard, wondering if he was in his shower right now. You giggled at him calling you addicting. As you washed your hair and showered, you thought about your conversations with him since you met him and how he treated you.

You thought about your conversation with Graham in the bookstore and the car as he drove you to Richard’s place. You suddenly realized there was no way he could’ve gotten to the studio from Richard’s place in the short amount of time there was between you texting Scarlett and you arriving at the studio. You realized that Graham was one of the last people to leave the shop yesterday. You wondered if he knew about Richard’s party, maybe even convinced Richard to have one so they could hook you two up, and had planned with Scarlett to pick you up and take you to the party!

You chuckled, thinking back on all that Graham has said to you. He was always encouraging you to give Richard a chance and to let him date you. Was he trying to set you up with Richard? Was Scarlett and Aiden in on it too? You wondered.

You missed your parents, the way Graham talked to you in the car, reminded you of how your dad and grandpa talked to you. They often didn’t like the men you dated. Would they have liked Richard and his friends if heart attacks and strokes hadn’t claimed their lives? You hoped so.

You realized these friends all were different than what you and Scarlett normally would hang out with. Maybe it was a good thing for the two of you to meet them at the Squawking Raven that night, and maybe it was a good thing Scarlett went home with Aiden. It sure has changed both of your lives for seemingly the better.

You were still thinking about all of this when you got out of the shower and dried off. You wrapped the towel around you and walked into your room to find a box sitting on your bed. You looked around puzzled. Walking over to it you noticed a note.

Opening it, you found a message from Graham.

“Hey, sweetheart. I hope ya had fun at Rich’s party last night. Hope ya don’t mind, but I saw this and thought it would look smashing on ya for maybe a first date with Rich or a special event. He adores ya, Sweetheart. We all do. Enjoy the gift, it’s from all of us. We’re rooting for ya!” - Graham.

You open the box and see a gorgeous black velvet strapless gown with a black and silver brocade underbust corset. You are speechless. It looks like something someone would wear on the red carpet! You pull the dress out of the box and hold it up to you. It is floor length with a small train. Under the dress is a set of beautiful black and silver jewelry: A short collar length necklace with earrings and bracelet and a stunning ring.

You wonder what Graham knows that you don’t. You giggle and try the dress on. It is a little big on you, but you could have it taken in easily enough. You try on the corset and it fits you like a glove. You dance around the room giggling.

When you finally calm down, you put the jewlery in your jewelry box, then carefully put the dress back in the box since it will need to be altered slightly. You look for tags indicating where it was bought, but find none. You run your hand along the velvet and know that if you wear it around Richard, he won’t be able to stop petting you all night long. You grin.

You decide to wear the corset today as a teaser, and to thank Graham for it if you see him. You dig through your clothes and find your other pair of leather pants, the ones that fit a little looser, have cut outs on the lower legs, and are thicker leather. Then you pull out a long sleeve off the shoulder black shirt to put under the corset.

After you get dressed, you carefully comb out and oil your hair and then start to put it into one long five strand braid. You call for Scarlett to help you since you can only reach so far. Aiden follows her into your room and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you standing in front of the mirror in the corset and leather pants.

Scarlett comes over and helps you finish the braid and then helps you weave a silver ribbon through the braid, tying it off at the bottom.

You turn and go to the small jewelry box and dig around for your silver dangly earrings and necklace and put them on.

You turn and ask, “So??? Does this look okay?”

He looks at Scarlett, who is smirking, and he nods, completely at a loss for words.

Scarlett looks down at the box. “I take it you opened the gift?” she asks. You nod. “Yeah. It’s a gorgeous dress and I love the corset and jewelry. I’m gonna need to have the dress altered though, it’s a little big on me.” You say sheepishly.

“Did Graham really get these for me?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

Scarlet beams, “Yup… with a little help.” She smirks. We were out shopping with him yesterday, since the rest of the guys had to work at the studio doing filming. He mentioned seeing us shopping and how he was trying to hook you and Rich up.” She giggled.

“He said Rich had mentioned wanting to take you to a certain place maybe for a first date if Rich could screw up enough courage to ask you out, and asked me if you had anything fancy to wear for it. I told him no, since we just purged your closet and it would take a while to build it back up. Don’t worry, Sweetheart, I told him you’re on an all black clothing kick lately, but that a splash of color here and there should be considered on special occasions.” She tells you giggling.

Aiden just watches the two of you with a knowing smirk. Trying to gauge your reaction to the very expensive gift. You looked down at the dress again and ran your fingers over the soft velvet.

“If I wear this, Rich will be petting me all night long. He already can’t seem to keep his paws off of me!” you giggle.

Scarlett just chuckles, “Is that a bad thing?” she asks, grinning like a Cheshire cat. You grin mischievously, “It depends.” You say with a wink.

“So where does he want to take me for a first date?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

Both Aiden and Scarlett grin, “We’re not allowed to tell you. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” They tell you.

You roll your eyes. “Well I guess I had better find a place to have this taken in then, so it is ready whenever he decides to ask me on said date.” You tell them.

They both giggle. “Graham said he’ll take you to have it fitted properly closer to the date. For now, though you should hang it up, so it doesn’t crease, Har.” Scarlett tells you as she pulls it out of the box again. She holds it up to you and grins picturing it on you with the corset. Nodding, she walks into your closet and hangs it up on one of the velvet lined hangers.

“So now what are you going to do?” Aiden asks.

“I think I’ll sit down and figure out my finances now. I have a tentative schedule worked out with Todd, so I can figure out approximately how much take home pay I will be getting each month. He is paying me more than what I had expected, so we’ll see how things turn out.” You tell him.

“Ok, well we were gonna go out for a bit. Are you going to be all right here by yourself?” they ask.

You nod. “Yeah, just make sure you lock the door when you leave.” You tell them.

They nod, “Okay, Harley. Call if you need anything or a ride anywhere.” Aiden tells you.

Then they head out.

You dig around in your stuff till you have all your bills and a notebook. Sitting everything down on the kitchen counter, you sit on the bar stool and start writing down all your bills:

·       Electricity

·       Phone

·       Internet

·       Spotify

·       Hulu

·       Netflix

·       Renter’s insurance

·       Health insurance

·       Hospital bills

·       Clinic bills

·       Food, toiletries

You call the electricity company and ask them to disconnect the power to your old apartment tomorrow morning because you are moving out. You pay the bill and thank them.

Next you look up how much food a dog eats per month. You write it down and then look up how much it will cost for that much dog food each month. You add it to the list of bills. Then you look up costs for stuff like flea and tick meds, heartworm meds, and pet grooming. You add that all to the list as well.

Finally, you factor in the rent for the new place.

It will be tight for a few months, but you think you can swing it on your own if your friends who promised to help with the start up costs for the dog follow through with their promise.

You search online for what breeds of dogs make good guard dogs and look at the pictures.

You like the Akitas, Belgian Malinois, Belgian Sheepdogs, Belgian Tervuren, German Shepherds, and Siberian Huskies.

You text Todd that you would like the apartment, and that you’re meeting Alex at the precinct at 1pm. You tell him you could meet him after that. He tells you he will call the O’Malleys and set up a time with them then call you back.

After talking with Todd, you hang up and then text Richard.

“Um, hi, it’s me, Harley. Would I be able to get a ride to the precinct that Alex works at for 1pm so I can give him my keys? Scarlett and Aiden are out for a bit and I don’t want to bother them. If you can’t that’s ok. I will call a taxi. Let me know.”

He calls you back a minute later and tells you he can give you a ride. You tell him you’re at Aiden’s apartment and he can pick you up there. “Would you want to give me a ride to my new apartment so I can sign the lease too?” you ask shyly.

“Sweetheart, for you, I’d move heaven and earth to help you however you need.” He tells you. You giggle. “Thanks, Rich.” You tell him.

“Let me finish what I’m workin’ on here, and I will be over in about 20 minutes.” He tells you. You thank him again and the two of you hang up.

You text Alex and ask for the address of the Precinct and ask if it is ok if you bring your new boyfriend with. He texts you back “Here’s the address. (insert precinct address). And do I need to run a background check on the guy? 😉 J/k.”

Chuckling, you text back, “Well, It’s Richard Armitage, so I think I’ll be safe with him. 😉 but don’t tell anyone. He likes his privacy and he just asked me to be his girl this morning after he finally worked up the nerve. ***giggles***.”

“Congrats!” he texts back. “I love his acting!” he tells you. “See you two at the precinct. You’re secret is safe with me!” he tells you.

“Thanks Alex. By the way, I’m heading over to sign the lease with the O’Malleys when I get done at the precinct! 😊” you text him.

“Great! Do you just want us to bring your stuff there?” he asks.

“Can we put it in storage till my day off?” you ask. “I’m still trying to get some stuff worked out here on my end.” You ask.

“Sure thing, Harley. Just let us know when you want it moved and the guys said they’ll come move it in for you on their day off.” He texts back.

“ok. Thanks!” you reply.

You are feeling more optimistic now and decide to go to your room and put some makeup on. You do so and add your ylang ylang perfume oil on your neck by your ears and a drop on your wrists. You grin and look at yourself in the mirror. You really like the corset that Graham bought for you and suspect Scarlett helped him pick it out since she knows your sizes.

You get a text a few minutes later that Richard is on his way.

Wandering into the closet, you try to decide which boots you want to wear. You decide to put the knee-high heels on so you’re a little taller standing next to Richard. You wonder if he will like how you look today.

You pick out the high-low jacket with the purple lining once you check the weather on your phone. You don’t want to be caught in the rain, and the app says it’s supposed to be a sunny and nice day, so you pick the high-low jacket.

Digging around in the closet, you find your black messenger bag and transfer your phone charging cords, speakers, phone, wallet and earbuds into it. You take your pouch that you had tied to your corset the other night and put it into the messenger bag as well.

You put your brush, comb, some hair ties and hairpins and your perfume oil into a little container and put it in your bag as well. You make a mental note to get a travel toothbrush, deodorant, container for your hair oil, and travel comb and brush set to keep with you in case you are kidnapped by your friends again and end up stuck at someone’s house overnight.

You chuckle and walk into the living room with your bag and coat just as you hear the doorbell ring. Walking over to the door, you open it and find Richard standing there with a bouquet of flowers. He sees you and gives you a big smile. “Hey, Love, you look amazing this morning!” he tells you as you take the flowers and give him a kiss.”

He follows you into the kitchen and you dig around for a vase or something to put the flowers in. Richard chuckles and opens up a cabinet on the top side of the fridge that you couldn’t reach and finds a vase for you. “Here, Love.” He tells you as he hands it to you.

Thanking him, you fill it with water and dump the powder packet of plant food in and then cut the flower stems and place them in the vase. “They smell amazing, Richard, thank you!”

You place the flowers on the counter and then notice he has a card for you. He hands it to you, and you read it. You look up at him and try not to cry. “Rich, you’re gonna make me cry and ruin my makeup!” you tell him. He chuckles and says, “Well, it’s a good thing we haven’t left yet then!” he says as he cups your face and gives you a searing kiss.

He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he kisses you. When you both finally come up for air, he chuckles and tells you he is so happy you agreed to date him and be his girl. He asks you if you got your finances figured out and you nod. You show him your paper and the notes.

He frowns. “It’s gonna be really tight for you, Hun.” He says a little worried. “You sure you want to go this route? My offer still stands.” He says.

“I know, Rich.” You tell him as you snuggle into his arms. “But I’ve lived with someone or another ever since my parents died. I’ve never had a place that is just my own. It is something I need to try once at least. If I need help with bills, I promise I will let someone know.” You tell him.

He hugs you and sighs. “All right, Sweetheart. Now where is this precinct I need to get you to by 1pm?” he asks. You give him the address and he puts it into his phone’s navigation. “Oh! That won’t be too far from here. We have some time yet. Want to go get some lunch?” he asks.

You nod. “Oh, wait, I gotta go get something out of my backpack! I almost forgot about it!” you tell him as you run to your room. You dig in your bag and look for the restraining order. You momentarily panic when you can’t find it, but then check your jacket you wore yesterday and find it in the pocket. You grab the change you forgot to give to Todd as well.

You put the restraining order in your messenger bag’s front pocket and tell Rich it’s there in case anything happens to you. Then you grab a baggie and put Todd’s change from lunch yesterday in it and toss it in the messenger bag as well.

Your phone starts to ring, and you pick it up. You see it’s Todd and he tells you to meet him at the apartment for 2pm. He asks if you need a ride and you tell him, no, you will get a ride there. “I’ll text you the address, so you have it.” He tells you. You thank him and hang up. A moment later you receive the text with the address, and forward it to Richard with a note, “Here is my new address. 😊”

Rich looks down at the text and chuckles. He helps you into your jacket and you sling the messenger bag across your body. “Ready!” you say and give him a hug, pulling him down for a kiss. “Someone’s in a good mood today!” he chuckles. “Mmmmm, you smell divine, Sweetheart! I might have to just kiss you here all day.” He teases.

You chuckle and he nibbles your neck as he backs you to the door casing. You giggle and manage to squeak out, “Rich, we need to go get lunch!”

He looks up from nuzzling your neck and gives you a mischievous look. “I have my lunch right here.” He says and gives you a little squeeze. You squeak and he chuckles.

“Ok, ok. We’ll go get you some food.” He says in a mock offended tone, making you giggle and give him the stink eye.

“Be good or you won’t get your surprise.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow. You just grin and head for the door. He follows and you both slip out into the hallway. You lock the door and text Scarlet where you’re going, and that Rich is taking you to run some errands.

She replies, “Okay, have fun! 😉”

The two of you walk down to the elevator and wait for it after you push the down button. Rich grabs your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours and kisses the back of your hand.

“Would you like to go look at some potential dogs with me and Graham when we get done with your apartment stuff?” he asks. “I saw you had made a list of some you liked.”

You nod. “Sure, if we have time.” You tell him. He grins and nods. The elevator arrives and whisks you both down to the ground floor and Richard escorts you out to his BMW and the two of you take off.

“Where do you want to go eat at, Love?” he asks. You think for a bit, then grin. “How about we get a pizza, and a bottle of wine and have a picnic by the lake?” you ask.

He looks at you surprised, and you grin. “All right, Love, whatever makes you happy.” He tells you with a chuckle. You look at him for a moment, what would you pick if it was up to you?” you ask, curious.

He grins and says, “That will be a surprise. For now, we’ll get you your pizza and wine.” He smirks.

You raise your eyebrow, but don’t question him further. You look out at the passing scenery and sigh contentedly. He glances over at you then back to the road. He gives your hand a squeeze. “You all right, Love?” he asks after a little bit.

You nod. “I’m just curious. It seems like Graham was having fun playing matchmaker.” You reply as you look over at Richard. He keeps a straight face, despite knowing he asked Graham to do so after hearing him rant about you all afternoon and especially after meeting you at the bar. “Is that so?” he asks. “What makes you say that?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“He just encourages me a lot when we talk, and he is always talking about you and how you’d take care of me and would be a great boyfriend for me.” You tell him. “I think he and Scarlett planned to kidnap me after work yesterday so I would have to come to the party. There is no way he could’ve gotten from your place to the studio in the amount of time that lapsed between me texting Scarlett and me arriving.

He was already in the car, and it was parked on the side of the street when I got there with Todd after looking at the apartment. The engine on Graham’s jaguar was cold, so he had been there long enough that the hood was cool to the touch.

Now that I think of it, he had been into my work earlier yesterday afternoon and we had to shoo him out along with a bunch of other guests when we closed.” You tell him as you put your free hand to your chin and rub it, thinking.

Richard glances at you and you see a surprised look on his face.

You grin. “I think he knew about your party and planned to ‘conveniently’ be nearby to pick me up and used Aiden’s tendency to get hammered as an excuse. I suppose Scarlett texted him where to pick me up and he just went there, parked and read his book till I showed up.” You say.

Richard struggled to keep a straight face, annoyed that you figured out their plot to get you to the party so quickly.

“Is that so?” he replies. “Well, Graham likes you, sweetheart. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had fun meddling like that. He kind of thinks of you as his kid, you know.” He tells you.

You look at Richard in disbelief. “What?”

He grins seeing you thrown off track. “Yup. Scarlett told him you didn’t have any family left so I guess he took it upon himself to take you under his wing and be a father figure.” He chuckles. “He even gave me ‘the talk’ and told me that if I screwed up enough courage to ask you out, that I better be good to you or he’d beat my head in.” Richard chuckles.

You put your head in your hand and groan, making Richard laugh. “Don’t worry, Sweetheart, he is thoroughly enjoying it. He doesn’t get to see his girls very often cuz of his acting. So, let him have his fun. I don’t mind.” Rich tells you.

“All right.” You say as Richard pulls into a pizza place and the two of you get out of his car. You both head into the pizza place and order a medium pepperoni pizza. They tell you it will be ready in about 15 minutes.

Richard asks if there’s a liquor store anywhere nearby and they tell you there’s one a block away. He asks if you want to wait here for the pizza or come with him. You opt to join him, and you pay for the pizza and then tell them you’ll be back in 15 minutes.

Rich ushers you to the car and opens the door for you. You get in and the two of you head for the liquor store. You think about getting wine, then realize that you’re meeting with cops afterward. You mention it to Rich and say, “Maybe we better do something that is not alcoholic this time since we will be meeting with cops and a retired officer and detective.” You suggest. He pulls over and parks on the side of the road.

He smirks and nods. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, now that you mention it. What did you have in mind then?” he asks.

“What kind of pop do you like? I don’t have pop often, but I’d be okay with pop this time.” You tell him.

Chuckling, he says, “I’ll drink almost any pop, sweetheart.”

You grin. “Rootbeer it is then!” and he grins and rolls his eyes. He leans over the center console and grabs your face and kisses you. “You’re just so cute.” He tells you with laughing eyes.

You give him a beaming smile and tell him, “You’re cute too! Sweet cheeks.” You smirk.

You see his ears get pink and he grins and kisses you again. The two of you spend your 15 minute wait for the pizza in the car, kissing and talking. Then he drives back to the pizza shop and you run in while he waits and you grab the pizza, plates, napkins, and buy two 20oz bottles of root beer and head back to the car.

You hand the pizza to him and put the bag with the rest of the stuff on the floor by your feet, and then buckle up. He hands you the pizza back and he pulls out of the parking lot and heads for the lake. The two of you find a nice spot with a picnic table and sit down to eat.

It’s a beautiful day and the two of you have a fun time. Some ducks come over and you toss them the inside part of the crust from your pizza and they happily eat it. Richard takes a couple pictures of you feeding the ducks out of your hand and then the two of you pack up and head back to the car.

He leans against it and pulls you in for a kiss. “That was fun, Sweetheart. We should do this again sometime.” He tells you. You nod.

“Ready to head out?” he asks, as he looks at his watch.

“Yup.” You reply.

He stands up and opens the door for you and helps you in, then closes the door and gets in on his side.

The two of you head over to the precinct and arrive a little before 1pm.

@dondarrion16 @criminally-supernatural @hilary456 @fizzyxcustard @thetherianthropydaily @ratv0miit @emrfangirl @midnight-reader-morning-sleeper

[divineluce]

You’re Sworda Wrong || Mina & Luce

Location: Excalibur

Tagging: @drowningisinevitable & @divineluce

“Alrighty, wrap it up folks. Nice job today.” The instructor said. Luce pulled her fencing mask off and gave her sparring partner a high five, sweat dripping down the side of her face. Throwing her gloves and helmet into her bag, she gently laid her training sword inside before zipping the whole thing up neatly. “We still on for this weekend?” She asked. When she received an affirmative thumbs up, Luce nodded and headed out of the practice studio. Still warm from spending the last hour smacking people with blunt swords, she kept her jacket slung between the shoulder strap of her equipment bag as she entered the main storefront of Excalibur. Did she really need another sword? No. But did she want to look at them? Yes, yes she did. Besides, if she ever got the nerve to try and go all flame-on with one of her swords… she’d need a replacement, right? Humming to herself, she looked at the various display cases before noticing a young woman standing off to the side-- she’d been in the practice room, watching, hadn’t she? Tilting her head to the case in front of her, Luce spoke up, “See something you like?”

Sometimes, Mina liked to watch the fencing classes at Excalibur. Not often; being around that many people who could possibly be wardens and not understand that she was also a warden made her incredibly nervous, especially without her dad around to help her. But she liked watching sword fights, and she liked looking at the swords in the main shop as well, so she occasionally allowed herself to come in and watch. She was always glancing about, trying to blend into the wall, hoping no one would take too much off an interest in her. She’d been eyeing a set of daggers, wondering if she could get a nice pair of gloves so that the metal wouldn’t burn her too badly, when a woman spoke up and almost startled Mina out of her skin. Literally; with all the weirdness going on in White Crest, she’d been jumpy and nervous and one second away from forming scales and jumping in the nearest body of freshwater just about any chance she got. “Oh!” she yelped. “I mean, not really. Or just looking! I mean, it all looks nice!” She looked between the woman to the swords and then back. Could she just disappear into the wall, please? But the other woman was intriguing to Mina, the way she carried herself. She reminded Mina of a few of the hunters she’d met during her day.

When the other woman jolted, Luce flinched in response, shifting away. “Christ!” She swore, hand tightening around her bag. “A bit tightly wound there, huh?” She commented with a slight shake of her head. Eh. She probably didn’t mean anything by the response, there was a lot of shit going around town and it had everyone on edge. Even her. Which is why she was here in the first place-- nothing like doing some sparring and sword training to calm down after a long day. Rubbing her forehead, she sighed. “Sorry. Kinda on edge.” She said before laughing at her dumb sword pun. Folding her arms in front of her, Luce scrutinized the woman for a moment. There was something about her that seemed familiar. “You’ve come by here a couple times before, haven’t you?”

Mina laughed nervously. “Ha! Yeah, um, sorry! I’m sorry! I’m. Yeah.” She ran her hands through her hair nervously. God, she was making a terrible impression. She watched the other woman closely, the way she reacted. “On edge, yeah, same here. Lots of, um, weirdness going on lately. I’m sorry. I didn’t. I didn’t mean to startle you for startling me.” She laughed a bit breathlessly. “Not that I think you did it on purpose! I know you didn’t! I’m pretty sure!” Mina was going to go crawl in the lake as soon as she left her and just die. She was sure of it. As the other woman looked at her, Mina tried to shrink back a bit more. “Ah, well, yes! Yes, I come by and I watch and I look around. Sometimes. It’s a nice store, a cool store.” 

Listening to the younger woman ramble, Luce tilted her head slightly in mild amusement. “Fair. There’s a lot of shit going on. Hope you’re staying safe out there. And, if you’re looking for a little extra protection, this place isn’t a bad shop for it.” She said with an easy grin. Maybe that would help this anxious lady just chill out a little bit. Not that Luce couldn’t deal with anxious-- she had an anxiety ridden cactus cat living with her that honestly needed prescription meds. But, she didn’t super need that energy around her either. “It’s a good place. They do swordsmanship lessons in the back throughout the week, they have a calendar posted with times, if you want to check it out. It’s a good way to stay in shape and meet people.” 

“I know how to stay safe, yes,” Mina said, the half-truth coming easily. Lying made her feel ill, but she’d spent twenty-three years figuring out ways to work around it. And, even if she didn’t stay conventionally safe, Mina always did what she thought was safe for her. Unless people needed help. “Extra protection would be nice, though! I’ve always thought about getting more protection.” She had plenty, especially when it came to firearms, really, but she liked blades; they were so shiny. “I like coming by, but, um, I’m a much better observer. I’d be a bit silly, trying to sword fight. It’s been awhile.” Not that she couldn’t. Mina had more than enough scars to prove that she’d learned and become more than capable at handling bladed weaponry. But no one really needed to know that. “You come here pretty often, too, don’t you?” 

“Glad to hear it.” Luce said with a nod at the taller woman. If she said she knew how to stay safe, she’d take her at her word. And if she was bluffing, well. The girl would figure out what it meant to bluff about being safe in White Crest all on her own. “Well, there’s plenty to spare. I bought this,” She said, sticking her hand in the pocket of her joggers before pulling out one of her silver knuckle dusters, “here. They have a lot of variety.” Putting the weapon away, she quirked an eyebrow. “Been a while? You know swords, then?” She asked, intrigued. There weren’t too many people who already knew how to fight before they started taking classes at Excalibur. And the handful that did were really good at it. “Mhm, a couple times a week. Like I said, it’s a good way to stay in shape.”

Hoping her smile was reassuring, Mina nodded back. “Totally. All about safety!” She looked around the store at all the different blades.Yes, there was certainly a lot. “You could probably arm the entire city and still have plenty to spare,” she murmured, more to herself but loud enough to be heard. She glanced at the knuckle dusters; silver, a nice metal, not one that stung. She knew what steel knuckle dusters felt like to the temple. She wondered if this woman was a beast hunter. Silver was an interesting choice. She scratched at the back of her neck. “My, um, my dad. He had me learn different types of weapons growing up. We sparred a bit with swords, daggers, the like. I wasn’t,” she laughed, “I mean, I wasn’t great.” Yeah, it would make sense if this woman was a beast hunter. Frequented Excalibur, silver, training in swordsmanship. “Well, you’re very good! You seem to win more than you lose.”

Catching the other woman’s words, she laughed. “Calling it a city’s generous. It’s a college town.” Luce said with a shrug. “But, the college helps keep us going. Though, I’d kinda hate to see what some of the college kids I’ve seen would do with a sword.” She said with a shudder, thinking back to her latest trio of dumb fraternity brothers who had decided to get their frat’s letters tattooed. They totally weren’t going to regret that at all. “Huh. Cool. Sounds like a fun father-daughter hobby.” She said with a nod. Better than what her parents had pushed upon her. Studying fire magic and flaunting it for gain, not giving it the respect it deserved. The other woman’s observation caught her off guard-- yeah, she was pretty good. But, it was surprising that she noticed. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve been doing this for a bit now.” Extending a hand, Luce offered a polite smile. “I’m Luce, by the way.”

“Ah, well, yes, I suppose city is kind of gracious,” Mina said, smiling a bit and running her fingers through her hair. “Yes, the college is actually one of the reasons I’m here. I’m a masters student and thought White Crest would be as good a place as any to settle in the states!” Nothing like a supernaturally invested town to really encourage you to study math. And hunt monsters, but that was another story. “Yes, I wouldn’t give very many college students swords, especially not freshmen. Perhaps,” she looked around the store, tried to do some mental math, “Suppose there’s about fifty to a hundred people in town who actually know what they’re doing with weapons. They could be armed to the teeth with plenty to spare if they all came by here!” Mina thought a bit about fighting with her dad, the cuts and bruises and burns. She smiled. “It was pretty fun, yes. I learned a lot. He’s a great teacher.” He taught her how to survive, even if she wasn’t always that good at it. Mina perked up at the other woman mentioning that she’d been doing this for awhile. Yes, definitely a hunter. Mina wondered how long. “Really? That’s so neat. What got you into this? I’m Mina. Mina Fitzroy.” She took Luce’s hand, hoping her own wasn’t too cold and clammy. “Ah, it’s very nice to meet you!”

Nodding along, Luce smiled politely. College, as she’d found out, wasn’t here thing. She’d given it a whirl, hated every second of it, and get lucky as all get out that she’d found Ink Inc. when she did. “Cool. What do you study?” She asked. “Fifty to a hundred? That’s a lot, don’t you think?” She asked, gesturing to the people who were coming out of the training room. “Out of the folks here, there are about… eh. Let’s say 25-30 competent people with a sword. Maybe UMWC has some fencers hiding around I don’t know about, but I’d say fifty tops.” She said. “Neat. Well, if he ever comes to visit, you should bring him around here. I’m sure some folks in the class would benefit from a lesson or two from him.” The woman’s hand was a little cold, but most people felt cold to her. Fire magic had a tendency to do that-- it made her run warmer than everyone else and, as a result, everyone else felt just a bit chilly to her. “Nice to meet you too.” This normally would have been her out to leave the conversation, but Mina’s question had her stuck. “Ah, it just seemed like something interesting to stay busy. Besides, it’s something that tests your mind and body, which not a lot of other activities do.”

“Ah, well, math,” Mina said a bit sheepishly. She’d fooled around in undergrad, only really studying things that struck her interest, and had ended up with a general studies degree in three subjects that couldn’t be more different: German, math, and music. When applying for a masters program, she’d just gone with the one that might possibly be useful (and with the least amount of people in it). The degree was just a cover anyway. She knew what she was in White Crest to do. “Well, you know, a hundred might be a bit much, but I’m certain there’s more than fifty. Say that between twenty-five and thirty attend classes here. Then there’s people like me,” hunters who don’t do classes, “who might be a little shy about this kind of thing. There’s approximately 15,000 people, plus 5,000 university students. Say another ten to twenty are like me. Factor in the people that think they know what they’re doing, and the number might be a bit larger than you think.” Mina hoped she didn’t sound dumb. She was blushing a bit as she went through the numbers off the top of her head. She paled a bit at the thought of her father coming back anytime soon with her not even being close to fulfilling her promise. “Oh, well, I mean, he’s on business, probably won’t be here for some time. But I can ask!” She thought he’d probably like a chance to show off. “Oh, totally, it’s really good exercise!” She cocked her head a bit. “Have you always lived in White Crest, or are you fairly new, like me?”

Listening to the woman rattle off all the mental math, Luce did her best to hide her grimace with a strained smile. Math wasn’t her thing. Sure, her art might have some basic principles of math interwoven into the designs, but she mostly just went off visual balance. How did it feel when she stepped back and looked at it? Was it still identifiable from a distance? “I can see why you’re in grad school for math. Better you than me, I never finished college.” She said with a slight laugh, folding her arms across her chest. Noticing the way that the woman seemed to balk at the idea of her dad being anywhere, Luce made a mental note not to bring that up again. “Makes sense. If he happens by in that case.” She said with a nod. Glancing over her shoulder pointedly, Luce nodded. “I’ve lived here my entire life. Probably live and die here.” She said with a wry grin.

Mina was probably a bit splotchy from blushing, just a bit. “Yes, well, college isn’t for everyone, and it’s kind of lame, most of the time, and then you’ve got to figure out what to do with your degree or whether you want to pursue something more or where you’re going to get money and…” She trailed off, noticing Luce’s tattoo sleeves as the other woman crossed her arms. “Your tattoos are really lovely, by the way,” she said distractedly. She blinked, smiled. “But, yes, certainly, yes. I’ll ask him the next time we talk if he’d like to come teach a class or two. He, ah, he likes to show off, occasionally.” She smiled just a bit at that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Mina loved her father, but she’d never broken a promise before. She dreaded to think what would happen if she did. But it was interesting that Luce had lived here her whole life. Made sense. White Crest would be a hotbed for hunters. “It’s a nice place to grow up, yes? A little strange, but it seems nice.”

Mina continued to ramble on, which at least meant that Luce didn’t have to say anything. It was easier for her to just listen and nod. “Yep. It sure wasn’t for me.” She shrugged. When she pointed out her sleeves, Luce nodded. “Thanks. I designed them myself. Didn’t do it myself, obviously, but yeah.” She said with a grin. She was proud of her sleeves-- the geometric line art of her left arm and the flowers on her right, they were very different but worked to balance out each other. Give and take, nature and man, it was all a balance. Which reminded her… she needed to get another tattoo on her thigh to balance out her most recent one. “It’s a cool place. Definitely weird, though, for sure. There’s a lot of odd stuff that happens around here, but you get used to it after a while.”

“They’re very pretty,” Mina murmured. She liked tattoos, liked seeing art on skin. However, between a fear of needles and a desire to not stand out anymore than she had to, She’d never gone through with actually getting anything done. “You’re very talented. Are you an artist?” A side gig, maybe? Most hunters had those, though, admittedly, artist was a new one for her to hear about. Still, she was working with math of all things; definitely not a traditional hunter pursuit. Not that she was a traditional hunter by any means. Luce did seem a bit different from the usual hunter type. It was kind of neat, actually. “Right, yes. The twenty-four hour night. The fish rain.” She had, admittedly, tried some of the sky fish. It was actually quite good. “Blood puddles, a few months back. Definitely an odd place, but interesting. I can see why people would want to live here and never leave.” Plenty of hunter grounds, at the very least.

“Mhm. Of the tattoo variety, specifically. I work at Ink Inc., best tattoo parlor in town. Only one too.” Luce said with a smile. Ulfric would probably not like that joke, but he wasn’t here right now. Her boss was a nice guy, but it was always good to watch your words around him. She’d heard of more than a few nosey customers getting just a little too in his business and paying for it. “Ah, yeah. Good old fish rain... “ She said, wrinkling her nose at the memory. The entire town had reeked for more than a month, the decaying fish bodies littered all over the streets. Even her cabin hadn’t been spared by the rain. “Mm. Some people want to leave, but can’t. There are things that keep us here, you know?” Luce said with a shrug. Her family, mostly.

“Oh neat!” Mina said. A tattoo artist actually seemed a bit more, well “kick-ass” than just a regular artist. It seemed like a cool job indeed, and Luce had the skills for it. Mina mimicked the other woman when she scrunched up her nose, “Yes, it did smell rather bad for awhile after it stopped.” The fish was nice, though. Which, Mina lived next to (and, on some nights, in) a lake; getting fresh fish wasn’t a problem. But she didn’t do saltwater fishing much. That had been nice. Her eyes widened minutely when Luce mentioned that things kept her in White Crest. What could possibly be keeping her in White Crest besides hunting? This was suddenly becoming very real for Mina. What if Luce was a warden? What if she mistook Mina for some sort of evil Fae? Her abdomen was still healing from where Montgomery tried to slice her open. “Right, yes, of course. People stay in towns like White Crest for all sorts of reasons, I suppose.”

“Eh. It’s a job.” Luce replied. A lot of people found her job to be something “edgy” or “alternative” but, at the end of the day, it was just another form of art. Just because it was permanently on someone’s skin, that didn’t make it any less than any other sort of art. “Yeah. But, at least it’s over. Which, you know, I’ll take it.” She said with an offhand gesture. Shifting the weight from her foot to stand in a more comfortable position, Luce nodded affably. “Yeah. It be like that sometimes.” She said, resisting the urge to continue the rest of the meme. Sometimes she forgot that it wasn’t “socially appropriate” to just talk in Vine and meme references all the time. “Anyhow…” Luce said, voice petering off, hoping it would give her an out from the conversation. 

“Still, you get to make art for other people and see them enjoy something beautiful on their bodies. It’s neat,” Mina said. She wondered if they’d been talking for too long. Had she said anything that would give her away? Something that marked her as inhuman? She couldn’t remember. “At least the darkness doesn’t smell.” She probably hadn’t. Probably? Distractedly, she said, “It really do.” She missed Vine. What if her cold, clammy hands gave her away? Did she have any lingering scales from her swim that morning? As Luce trailed off, Mina saw her out. “Right, yes! You’re probably very busy. And,” she looked at her phone, not even really looking at the time. “Oh, my, it’s getting a bit late. I should. Homework! Very nice to meet you!” Giving what she hoped was a pleasant smile, Mina darted out of Excalibur. Well, she hoped that her first interaction with a hunter went well.

[complicatedandstained]

The Other Day at Hot Topic: Do No Harm

It feels a little bit like the role of Vanitas has been recast halfway through their shift. 

The guy has started doing his work like a regular human being, going as far as offering to help Roxas finish restocking the piercing display and then not giving him shit about it. 

Although, to be fair, this could be because Vanitas was losing patience. Roxas, admittedly, has absolutely and entirely no idea what he is doing. Aqua had assumed Roxas knew a lot more about which metal stabs through which piece of skin than he does. 

Actually, Vanitas has taken to not talking to Roxas at all. He has his headphones back on and, if his volume is any indication, is doing his damnedest to broadcast his music throughout the entire store. Roxas has to refrain from singing along when Fall Out Boy comes on. 

But either way Roxas slices it, it’s a definite improvement. 

And then this super old man comes in, chugging along on a walker with balloons tied to his wrist. Orbiting him is a chattering, hyperactive, wholesomely chubby child, the kind of child you kind of want to hug. 

The old man has a scowl etched onto his face like it’s been there a while. He almost immediately begins to grumble about the low lighting and the loud music and the tight spaces between the aisles that make navigation with a walker near impossible. 

The child is wearing an extremely yellow Wilderness Explorer uniform, and explore he does—every square inch of the store seemingly all at once. He bumps off of display cases and walls like a human pinball, poking at the cheeks of stuffed animals and brushing his hands through the fabrics.

The old man continues his complaining from the front as he eyes the display cases, muttering about the dark colors and the flimsy material and the skimpy cuts. 

Vanitas keeps glancing between the two of them from his station near Anime where he’s restocking the Hello Kitty plush. Roxas imagines he’s examining camera angles, trying to decide who would be easier to take out first. Another glare the old man’s direction, and Roxas decides to step in, before his coworker does.

“Hey there! After anything in particular today?” Roxas asks. He’s halfway through adding new buttons to the magnetic boards of the display case by the register, and he holds out a handful with a smile. “Button?”

The old man looks taken aback. “Thanks, but,” the old man offers a quiet smile in return, tugging at the lapel of a worn suit jacket, where he has a round, pop bottle cap of his own pinned, “I have the only button I need.” 

Roxas feels a strange tingling in his chest at the sudden softness in the gruff man’s tone. Someone special must have given it to him. For a split second Roxas pictures Axel, hands splayed, eyes bright, telling him about stained glass windows.  

The conversation shatters as a childlike someone shouts, “I found it! I found it!” followed immediately by the sound of several hundred small boxes crashing down, and then a delayed, much quieter, “Uh-oh.”

“Russell…” the old man groans, shutting his eyes. 

The old man has stopped near the entrance, as he cannot easily navigate the tight passages between Hot Topic’s displays, so Roxas nods to him. “I’ll make sure he’s alright.”  

Roxas power walks through the aisles, until he gets to the wall-length Funko Pop display. Half a shelf is on the floor between Vanitas and the chubby, adorable scout, who has a single box clutched to his chest.

“This is the one!” The child beams and waves the box close enough to Vanitas face that Roxas is concerned the kid will lose a finger. “The Snipe! I found it!” 

Roxas freezes as Vanitas’ face twitches. With rigid movements the guy yanks down his headphones, says flatly, “Congratulations.”

Compared to all the potential curse words Roxas feared would leave his mouth, Roxas considers this reply basically praiseworthy. 

Vanitas eyes flit down to the mess again, his arms crossing, and the kid notices. 

“I am sorry about the mess,” Russell says, his bright voice painstakingly articulate, like maybe English isn’t his first language. Russell frowns, his dark eyebrows dipping low, troubled, dimples appearing in his round cheeks. “I will help you clean it up though!”  

Roxas takes a step forward, fully prepared to bodily restrain Vanitas if need be. 

“Psh.” Vanitas swats his hand toward the pile dismissively. “I’ve seen worse.”

Roxas is ready to give Vanitas a promotion at this point.

“Why don’t you go show Gramps your weird-as—weird-butt...bird thing.” 

“Okay!” Russell nods purposefully and then frowns, laughs. “Mr. Fredrickson is not my Grandpa though.” Vanitas’ face scrunches in mild confusion. “Oh?”

“Mr. Fredrickson is my best friend.” 

This is perhaps the single sweetest and saddest thing Roxas has ever heard.

With another radiant smile missing a couple key teeth, the child hugs his find to his chest once more and toddles off to the front of the store, chattering to the box, “I think I’ll call you ‘Kevin.’”

And for just a second, before Vanitas slips his headphones back on, with a slightly miffed shake of his head, Roxas thinks he sees Vanitas smile. 

*

Vanitas’ headphones have been off for a half hour now. Once Roxas had checked out Russell and Mr. Fredrickson, the Hot Topic workers set to doing serious damage control on the Pop Funkos. This entailed extensive sorting by platform, movie, and sale price, and some minor bickering about characters belong where, which made it abundantly clear that Roxas is the bigger nerd of the two and that Vanitas knows a weird amount about Star Wars.  

“God.” Vanitas passes Roxas the last couple obscure collectibles and whines, “Ordinarily, I’d just shove them all back on the shelf, and be done with it. Fucking kid. Fucking Axel. Fucking…” He leans forward to fix the one box threatening to fall back over. 

Roxas had thought Vanitas wanted to get fired, and now suddenly he’s vying for employee of the month. He shakes his head, sliding a hand in his pocket and looking out across the empty store.  “I don’t get you.”  

Vanitas lifts an angry-looking Hello Kitty penguin plush from the ground beside him and stares into its eyes like he sees some wisdom there. “You think I should just shut up and do my job, right?”

For a second Roxas wonders what the chances are that Vanitas hadn’t heard him and is simply talking to the penguin, but he decides those chances are fairly low. “It’d be easier…” Roxas mutters, fishing a few furry Chococat eye masks out of a cardboard box on the floor to help Vanitas with the display. 

“Wrong. You want to know why I wanted to get fired? This ‘job’ is a waste of my fucking time. I should be studying, interning. Literally scratching my eyeballs out would be more productive than this.” He lifts a Hello Kitty plush dressed as a cheeseburger up and shoves it in Roxas’ face like he’s trying to suffocate him and the plushie both.

Roxas rolls his eyes, and pushes Cheeseburger Kitty away. “Yeah, I’m sure the eyeball scratching pay is great…” I’ll ask Xion’s cat and get back to you.

“Ugh.” Vanitas adjusts a stack of Hello Kitty notebooks (regrettably not burger-themed) and accepts a handful of cat head topped gel pens from Roxas to add to the display cup beside it. This done he glowers at Roxas impatiently. “I forgot you don’t know shit. Look. I didn’t work my ass off getting a full ride to med school to wind up slaving away next to a bunch of sexually frustrated, punk wannabes.”

Roxas should be more offended about the last bit, but his brain gets stuck elsewhere. “You’re in med school?” A smile hits him in spite of himself. “Did they not warn you about the Hippocratic Oath?” 

Vanitas rams his shoulder into Roxas’ not hard enough to hurt, not light enough to be friendly. “Shut the fuck up.” Roxas considers Vanitas’ situation again, wondering why Vanitas is opening up to him now. “So, if you got a full ride, why work here?”

Vanitas sighs and shifts a few Sanrio nail polish sets over, then checks his own glossy white paint. “How much do you know about Xemnas?” Roxas glances up from his digging through the box. “The sexiest man alive?” Vanitas cringes, his fists balling up. “I fucking hate this place.”

“You…” Roxas hands him a couple more boxes of the polish sets, “disagree?” 

“He’s my uncle,” Vanitas says with venom. “He recently collected the family inheritance. He’s only in his thirties, and now he’s rich. Like, the filthy kind.” 

“Oh.” Roxas feels an uncomfortable pang his chest. Basically, Vanitas is telling him someone in his family recently died. So, either Vanitas is actually upset about that, or Vanitas didn’t know them that well and is just pissed he got the short end of the stick. But wouldn’t Vanitas’ parents have been next in line? Maybe they’d all been skipped?  “I’m sorry.” 

Vanitas doesn’t seem to hear him, pushes on, “Dear Uncle Xemnas is supposed to be helping me pay my rent and my bills, but he’s gotten it into his head that I need to learn to ‘be responsible’ and ‘make friends’ and all that elementary school bullshit. So now I’m working this stupid fucking minimum wage job. And if I don’t, I’m on my own.” 

Vanitas isn’t even looking at him anymore, he’s gripping the metal shelf of the display so hard his knuckles have gone bloodless. The sleeve of his blazer has slipped down, and Roxas can see tattoos running up from his wrist, red and blue veins, like his skin’s been flipped inside out. Med school, huh? Inheritance, suspension, friends… 

Roxas wonders if maybe Vanitas was just in desperate need of someone to dump this to. But why me? And how misanthropic do you have to be for your sexy uncle to blackmail you into having coworkers?

Then again, he did try to punch me in the face.  

“I mean…” Roxas considers patting Vanitas on the back with the Hello Kitty in his hand, but stops himself because he doesn’t want either to be ripped to shreds. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Vanitas whirls on him, face contorting. Roxas congratulates himself on the instinct not to give the guy a soothing pat. 

“You would say that. It’s fucking ridiculous. So what if I almost got suspended? I didn’t. So what if I don’t have any friends? I don’t need them.” Vanitas has gotten up in Roxas’ space again, the words harsh and direct, straight in his face. Roxas can feel a little spit fly. Roxas takes a long look at him, taking in what he’s heard, and maybe it’s just because Vanitas reminds him so much of a young Sora throwing a temper tantrum, or maybe it’s the two fights they’ve had earlier, but Roxas can’t bring himself to be angry with the guy any more. In fact, he’s starting to pity him a little bit. Roxas stares levelly, offers calmly, “Maybe friends would help.” 

Vanitas sneers, seizes Roxas’ shirt in his fists. Roxas lets him. 

“Wake up, sunshine. You’re not in elementary school anymore. Friendship isn’t magic. People always let you down. They let you down or they leave. Axel’s going to let you down. It’s better not to get attached.” Vanitas shoves Roxas’ chest and stalks off a few steps, but Roxas, being a black belt, catches himself easily, which seems to piss Vanitas off further when he glances back to see him still standing there. 

“You’re right,” Roxas says. 

“Huh?”

“Nobody’s perfect.” One of Roxas’ hands leave his pockets, lifts in a shrug. “Sometimes my best friends screw up. Sometimes they screw up a lot.” He almost laughs, thinking of Hayner, how many times he’s had to climb out of bed to pick him up, stumbling drunk. “But so do I.” I mean I dated Seifer, for Pete’s sake. He hadn’t thought anyone would forgive him for that, but, somehow, they had. “And at the end of the day, isn’t it enough that they care about me and that they tried?”

Roxas shifts his other hand out of its pocket, bringing a pack of Pop Rocks with it. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with Axel. Maybe he is going to hurt me, but maybe our friendship is going to be amazing. I’m not going to let maybe stop me from trying. And neither should you.” 

“Ugh.” Vanitas runs his fingers down his face like he’s trying to scrub it clean. But when he drops them his tone seems more level, “Forget the advice, you’re a hopeless sap.”  

Roxas smiles sadly. “Whatever you say, Vanitas.”

Vanitas eyes him, more wary than annoyed. “You’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

Roxas shrugs. “Maybe I am. What about Aqua?”

Vanitas stiffens. Roxas feels like he’s just watched his defenses go up, an invisible shield. 

Vanitas flexes his hand against the stuffed animal he’s holding a few times. “What about her?” he says at last.

Roxas keeps his words soft, “You guys are friends, aren’t you?”

“She’s not my friend,” Vanitas counters, words quiet but forceful. His nostrils flare, staring at Roxas and then he turns sharply, like he doesn’t want to look at Roxas anymore, and goes back to shoving stuffed animals onto a shelf with unnecessary force. “She’s a hopeless sap like you. That’s why I’m standing here balls deep in Hello Kitty merch. Doing my fucking job. Tell Axel that.”

Roxas has no idea what to make of this. There’s obviously a lot of shit going down with Vanitas that he doesn’t know the first thing about. He decides it’s time to tap out. Defuse this situation before Vanitas makes with the punching again. 

Vanitas is still waiting for a reply. 

Roxas frowns a bit. “The Hello Kitty thing, or...?”

Vanitas takes a step forward, like a bull stomping its foot before the charge. 

Roxas raises his hands in surrender accordingly. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell him you were doing your damn job. Gees.”

There’s a tense moment as Vanitas considers Roxas’ sincerity and then he nods. “Thank you.” He tosses another Cheeseburger Kitty at Roxas’ face.  “Now fuck off.”

[avpdpunpun]

i disappeared for 3/4ths a year here’s an update?

its been 4 months since my queue ran out and way longer since i wrote an actual post. 8 months about? i think i last posted when i impulse quit a job that was bad for my mental health and just kept getting worse.

sometimes i wonder when ppl who blog about mental illness disappear if they’ve died. there was a big user i used to follow who did, and i still occasionally think about it sometimes, so i figure its nice to post updates sometimes. and being able to look back on posts ive written and reflect on them/what state of mind i was in can be helpful even if it can be embarrassing/dangerous because its so easy to fall back into those thinking habits 

after quitting my job i did basically nothing for 6 months haha. at some point i managed to clean out my room which i had done the bare minimum on for years because of depression, took out more built up trash than i thought was possible to fit into my small space. its disgusting but the only thing i struggle to keep up with now at least is vacuuming and putting clothes away so my space is a lot cleaner and it makes me happier. your living space can really have an effect on your mood bless you marie kondo

after my post about having an anxiety attack taking my test i got my drivers license in march. i saw the same lady again after going somewhere else and i think she just let me pass because she felt bad haha. i never finished drivers ed and i still get anxiety about driving unfamiliar routes but my skills and confidence have improved a lot. i managed to drive 2 hours to a big city to visit a friend! i literally didnt have a choice in getting my license, but its still something i can be proud of. like, when i have to explain it to people, it feels extremely shitty that i didnt get it until i was 20, and only about 5 months ago too but... for someone who struggles as much as me, i have to be proud of it my small accomplishments or i’ll have nothing.

at some point something in my brain just snapped and i literally havent been able to cry? for a long time in those 6 months i felt like i was right on the edge of breaking down mentally but never actually crossing that line and it was honestly one of the weirdest things ive experienced. i almost wanted to have a breakdown again just to get rid of the feeling and reach a catharsis like... i used to be a fucking crybaby almost but i. cant. anymore. but i think ive mostly moved away from this point... still feel kinda weird tho.

i didnt end up signing up to a local school fo gen eds. its still on my mind for the vague future because there’s topics i want to learn about (psychology, natural resources, languages...) and maybe try to pursue for a career but really i just wanted a way to get out of my toxic house, even if it meant going into debt to live in a shitty dorm. 

in the last 30 days though life has been moving extremely quickly for me. i dont think i couldve lived with myself much longer being a useless adult basically living in my basement bedroom of my parents house, especially with my younger siblings getting nearer to adult milestones, plus my savings were starting to run out.

so literally next weekend, i’m moving out! and i make enough money right now that with the rough budget i have established, if its accurate, i’ll have a decent amount of wiggle room and hopefully wont be ruining my mental health just trying to make ends meet.

it took a long time of searching but i managed to find a job that hasnt made me suicidal and has slightly more than the MIT living wage for my area lol. im a janitor now! we’ll see how long it lasts but a lot of the factors from my last two jobs that contributed to my failing mental health are gone. i rarely have to interact with other people, and if i do its my coworkers, of who i tend to only see for minutes per day, or the other people working in the building i clean who at most i have to say hi and have a nice night to lol. i get to listen to music and podcasts for 8 hours and its very routine heavy. i have to clock out after the 8 hours is up so i literally cant be forced into overtime. a lot of people dont respect cleaning jobs like this but honestly who gives a fuck, its something i can handle mentally and support myself with. its still hard adjusting to 40 hours. i know its the standard, but the standard is rly tough for me, but i think i can do it long term.

all of this has been achieved through sheer self hatred and impulse alone, and im very nervous about moving in with 3 other people even if 1 of them ive known for 8 years, and i dont think its even properly hit me yet. literally cant register that i have to fend 100% for myself but also ill be away from my toxic family! i can bring my cat with me, who before this i got to see at MOST once a week!

a dude ive known online for two or more years is moving to my area too for college and he’s so sweet and kind, i feel better talking to him than i have 99% of people in my life and im so lucky to know him. ive been forced to talk about personal things i was kind of dreading (not his fault, just a result of our relationship going to go from online -> irl and things id have to address beforehand) and honestly i didnt even mind it that much when i just got it over with and talked about it to him! vulnerability is literally the thing i struggle with the most in interpersonal relationships and is a huge block for me in every way and in even the most mundane life situations but like... he’s honestly the best and im getting emotional writing this and its weird af because i straight up dont GET emotional about other people. ive absolutely developed a stupid fucking crush on him recently and i THINK hes been receptive to flirting and i cant tell if he flirts back because we already say i love you and are wholesome af but honestly no clue if he’s into (trans) dudes but honestly? even if it doesnt work out im so happy to be friends with him and im so excited to finally meet him!! i really think knowing him has helped me improve myself 

i’ve always thought that if i could literally just achieve the bare minimum in life that things would naturally get better. like i’m still mentally ill and get paranoid about peoples intentions and i think if my boss yelled at me id have an anxiety attack on the spot. im still depressed and hate that i have low energy and that it’s still rly hard doing basic chores. 

but like a huge part of my problem was that i felt like i literally couldn’t TRY to connect with people if i couldn’t face having to tell them bare info about myself, like “oh i cant drive” or “i dont have a job” or that i was living with my parents but not even making PROGRESS on getting out. like how could i make friends or go on dates if i literally couldnt contribute shit or admit these things i was so ashamed of? a lot of my self image was shaped by this because my entire life i havent been mentally well enough to do as well as i should have.

but like. i feel like im finally doing these basic things!! i dont have to hate myself so much anymore! i dont look badly on other mentally ill ppl who are less lucky than i/havent been able to do those things yet/might not ever and are still in the same situation i was 2 months ago but the self hatred is strong pls understand.

i dont know yet if i could afford twice yearly drs visits for meds or anything and probably not therapy. i dont even know what my insurance is yet haha. but i’ll see

i need to figure out at what point in my life im going to be able to never contact a single person in my family ever again, considering i’ll be a 20 min drive away and they will know the precise location of where i live, and if i’ll ever feel safe enough in society to start hrt but :^) you know :^) i can at least present more masculinely in the meantime!

i dont rly know how to conclude this... i’m not trying to brag either im just very nervous and excited about where my life might be going for the first time ever? maybe? in my entire life? i have no clue what to pursue after moving out, but i can figure it out. and just... that there’s hope even if youre as fucked up and mentally ill as i am lmao!

[socknerd]

yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy christmas is OVER now just to get thru the weird fucking xmas-nye limbo period where things in general have a tenuous connection with time and reality

anyway i managed to make things thru even with having forgotten my antidepressants 2 days in a row lololol. i currently remedying that but it’ll be several hrs b4 the withdrawals stop and also my emotions stop flailing, and hopefully i don’t throw up in the meantime from going straight back into a high dose.

also i managed to make it thru with some socialisation tho probs not as much as i should have lol. had to skip out on my parents reasonably abruptly and my mum was like “is something wrong?” HAH like i’m gonna answer that truthfully, of COURSE shit’s wrong you keep deadnaming and misgendering me and getting offended if anyone tries to correct you, and i’ve had years of “no talking back” getting literally beat into me, so. and neither my dad nor my sisters are much better. and then i had to spend some time around extended fam which was better bc they at least are good to my face and some of them are genuine family, so. but gods i spent the whole day going “i shoulda stayed at home with the cats”.

christmas is fucking weird anyway. i don’t really celebrate it myself and would be totally happy for it to disappear. i’m not christian, so there’s no jesus to celebrate. i don’t mind the celebrating family and friends and the movement of seasons w/e tho. also it was bigger when i was younger, and somewhat christian, and when it was more of a thing bc the trip to extended family was more of a deal bc i lived further away and there was more of an effort on all sides to connect. now ... it’s an obligation at best. plus nan died about 10 yrs back and grandpa since then has just kinda disappeared and got caught up in his new family.

anyway christmas just brings up a ton of shit and when i got home yesterday i was just so tired and my brain just kept going over how most of my family treats me like shit overall and how i can’t come to terms with that.

now let’s hopefully survive the next week. and then on. it’s gonna be rough tbh. i have even less money to survive on these days than i did before bc i need to pay health insurance to live a reasonably ok life, so i have just enough for food petrol and rent now. gonna be fun when an emergency comes up, or i need to pay for my meds, or my car, or w/e. and i srsly don’t have the capacity to work or study rn but no one’s listening to me when i’m trying to explain this to them or ask for help and if they don’t help then i can’t even get the tiny amount of govt assistance money i’m getting rn that’s keeping me alive. and bc i can’t really work or study or w/e and have extremely little motivation and no capacity to make goals, my life feels empty and meaningless and that doesn’t make wanting to survive easier.

like. i’m doing the best i ever have in my life. and it still sucks this bad. and i don’t want to kill myself most of the time but wanting to exist isn’t rly a thing.

anyway the antidepressants and coffee seem to be kicking in so i feel slightly better now. wtf. ugh.

[science-lings]

Peter Parker’s Parental Support Group Part 2

Pepper had met Peter sure, she understood why her fiance was so protective and caring towards him, the kid was like a mini version of Tony. Unfortunately, that included his self-care habits. Needless to say, he had none.

In some ways, Peter was worse than Tony. Peter had school to deal with as well as the incessant need to impress his mentor. (Which he already did on multiple occasions, judging by the way Tony talked about him and all of his little accomplishments.) Peter also spent all of his free time being a vigilante and saving cats for old ladies. This all meant that Peter never slept and after a while, it was affecting him.

Pepper had been working on some paperwork in her office at the tower and was honestly sick of it and ready to go a few floors up to pass out in her big comfy bed next to Tony, who was likely not even sleeping and just playing with some over-the-top idea on a Stark brand tablet if he wasn’t in the workshop.

Thankfully, F.R.I.D.A.Y. gave her a reason to leave her office. It wasn’t the reason she had expected though.

“Boss? I am programmed to inform you that my creator and the spider-ling have fallen asleep in the workshop. Due to them having panic disorders or heightened senses, I am not allowed to wake them up. I would advise checking up on them.” The AI said calmly.

“Save a few pictures in our personal database. I’ll be right there.” Pepper automatically smiled at the image that she imagined.

“I’m already ahead of you boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded like she was smiling if she had a face. Pepper made her way back to her penthouse and said goodbye to the rest of the late night workers on her way there.

The workshop attached to the top private floors for Tony’s convenience. It made it incredibly easy for Pepper to get to as it was practically its own floor. Pepper tried to be as quiet as she could as to not disturb the sleeping genius’ and her curiosity was a little bit overwhelming.

Pepper was not disappointed. Although they weren’t immediately visible, it didn’t take long to find them. Tony was slumped over a desk with his head in his arms, slightly tilted to one side.  This was the side where Peter was leaning against him. Peter’s hair was a little wild, indicating that he didn’t fall asleep attached to Tony, he just got there. In any case, it was adorable.

While Tony and Peter snoozed in unison, Pepper made the picture F.R.I.D.A.Y. took her cellphone background and she debated whether to let them sleep or wake them up so they don’t get sore. Pepper compromised by bringing in a few blankets and pillows from the nearby home theater and set them up to make sure her boys wouldn’t wake up with full body cramps.

Peter adjusted himself and blinked his eyes half open and miles away from awake. He looked at her with a confused expression but seemed oblivious to his closeness to Tony.

“MsPotts?” Peter slurred only a little louder than a whisper.

“You can go back to sleep Peter. You looked kind of tired,” Pepper said as she gave into the urge to comb her fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered for a moment, obviously too out of it to really process anything.

“Okay…” Peter sighed and went back to his place resting on Tony’s side. Pepper smiled a bit and kissed both of her boys on their scalps before leaving to have some well needed alone time.

Neither Tony nor Peter had to know that she had kept an eye on them through F.R.I.D.A.Y. and she saw when Tony woke up and carried Peter to his bedroom in the tower. She also saw, in HD, Tony tuck the kid in with heart-crushing gentleness.

Needless to say, she saved the video and planned on watching it every time Tony tried to convinse the world of his heartlessness.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

New Messages

To: May Parker

From: Pepper Potts

Pepper: I think you would apreciate this.

Pepper sent Naptime.png

May: Holy fuck. I have a new phone background.

Pepper: Too bad, I’m already having it framed. I’m hanging several copies around the tower tomorrow.

May: You should get a painting commissioned of it.

Pepper: I like the way you think…

May: Hang it in your office at the tower.

Pepper: I was thinking about the lobby instead. There's a picture of Howard that I want to replace.

May: Tony's father always looks grumpy anyway.

Pepper: Haven’t you been working all day? It’s late, you should get some sleep.

May: You’re literally the CEO of a massive company. You should get sleep too.

Pepper: You literally work 12 hours a day. Go to sleep.

May: no u

Pepper: Fine. goodnight.

May: wait no

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Pepper formally joined the club of Peter’s parental figures when he made her almost have her first heart attack.

Tony was gone, figuring out some Avengers things, and Pepper just had to keep an eye on Peter’s suit status on the edge of her screen while she worked. Easy peasy. It was only easy peasy for the first two days.

Then Peter got stabbed. And Pepper was too far away to have Happy drive her. So she did something that she didn’t believe she would need to do in a less than apocalyptic scenario. She activated the rescue protocol.

During one of his tech binges, Tony had made her a suit that he assured would just be for emergencies. He didn’t plan on her doing what he did but he wanted to do all he could to protect her if something bad happened. Instead of using it to protect her, Pepper decided to use it to help the kid that had slowly become part of her family.

She had been in her office at the time, not really working on something terribly important or urgent when F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed her of the situation. Because of course, Peter wouldn’t want help and his AI would be required to go behind his back. Pepper was thankful for the tattletale protocol.

“-said not to call- oh hey Ms. Potts...” Peter said nervously through her earpiece.

“Cut the shit Pete, what happened.” She said quickly, not wanting to waste any time. Peter was silent for a moment before he answered timidly.

“I got stabbed… “

“How much blood have you lost?” Pepper asked as she got out of her chair and started to run towards where the emergency suit was held behind a secret door.  

“It’s not that bad… I’m fine…”

“Karen?”

“Peter has lost twelve ounces of blood so far.”

“Come on-” Peter protested.

“Hang tight, I’m on my way.” Pepper hung up and let the red and white suit fold around her body. She wasn’t used to it but it wasn’t as weird as it had once been. Thankfully Tony had given her a crash course in the suit when he made it so she wasn’t a complete amateur on flying in metal suits.

She shot out of an opened hatch in the wall and followed the information on her visor. The information was kind of overwhelming and chaotic but Pepper was used to chaos and a lot of information at once so this wasn’t much of a change for her. She flew for about a mile before diving into an ally where Peter had taken shelter.

Pepper’s helmet folded back as she looked worriedly at the teenager. He had bled a lot but not completely horrifyingly so. She could patch up a knife wound… probably. She knew basic first aid and with Peter’s healing factor, it wouldn’t be too hard of a problem to fix. The wound was small and not even that deep, it didn’t touch any of his organs and the only problem seemed to be the blood loss and the pain.

Peter may have yelped a bit when Pepper picked him up bridal style but didn’t seem outwardly in horrible pain after a moment of getting settled in her arms. Pepper took off quickly with plenty of soft reassurances to the kid.

In no time she flew them to the med bay of the tower and put him on one of the medical beds. Pepper got out of her suit and rushed to the medical supplies. Thankfully the injury wasn’t too serious because she had no idea what she was doing. She did assume that she was doing better than anything the reckless teenager could come up with.

Peter kept apologizing but Pepper brushed it off. She wrapped his wound in black medical bandages that constricted enough to stop or slow the bleeding but not too much.

Pepper gave Peter some strong painkillers that were a product of Doctor Cho’s medical genius. The painkillers made Peter tired enough to pass out which gave Pepper the opportunity to notify May and Tony of what happened in a new group chat. She sent a picture to prove that Peter was fine.

The birth of the group chat began something that none of them could have expected. A sort of comradery over Peter was created and it led to some pretty great moments.

But that was another story.  

[7wanderingpaws]

A Windy Encounter (GOT7 Jinyoung) 2

A/N: The second part is here! Thank you for reading and liking <3

Pairing: Jinyoung x reader

Genre:  Pretty Woman AU

Word count: 2.1K

:part 2: Before the reunion

It was maybe the next week, when you finally managed to get him out of your mind. His behaviour that night was overwhelming and you have never met a man who held himself the way Jinyoung did. There was so much strong, controlling aura around him and yet he seemed like the best candidate for a diplomat.

You were just going over the central nervous system as one of the thousand questions for the entrance exam, when you heard your phone beep. Alexandra was asking when you would come for the makeover for tonight.

You sighed, feeling your soul deflating. To be honest, you were slowly regretting for getting yourself into this horrible business. Not only it wasn’t in your personality, but the threat that Jenna would open her immature mouth was sending you into a scaredy cat mode.

That is why instead of focusing on your fear, you sat and crammed almost the whole day before it was time to leave again.

You behaved well - you ate your dinner (all of it), cleaned up the kitchen, leaving your parents and Jenna to go rest after the whole day of farming.

You did your farming job yesterday, so it was your rest day but you definitely felt like you were more tired and sleepy than before.

With a sigh, you closed the heavy book, being stuck on the question number 679 and sat for a few minutes, collecting your slowed-down thoughts. Dread took over your face when you imagined going back tonight but as the entrance exam was nearing, you were thinking of dropping the awful job so you could focus. You could pull a few more nights to get just a bit more money for school fees.

Yeah, you thought to yourself as you stood up, stretching. You could do that.

Quickly jumping to your calendar, you counted the days of the work you had left so you could prepare your manager for your departure. Two more weeks.

Oh my. You could totally do that!

 It was around 2am when you decided it was the best time to announce it. (It was absolutely not the best time to announce it as the bar was busy and many important clients were present).

Since there were no clients you were occupied with, you bravely searched for your manager who was giving out orders, smiling sleazily at the customers and when his eyes landed on your approaching figure, it even widened.

“Oh, my beautiful Y/N!” he said cheerfully, giving a slap to your butt. You frowned but tried to hide it quickly with a smile. There shouldn’t be any bad feelings when you were just about to leave him. “Did you use more makeup today? You look so gorgeous.”

“I have something to discuss with you,” you announced politely, ignoring his behaviour.

He waved his hand before you could continue. “Yeah, yeah, listen, the group from last week arrived again. They asked for you so we can talk after you are done with them, okay?”

“What group?”

Your manager sighed, irritated. “Did you already forget?”

Ah. He meant those. Was Jinyoung here too? You thought eagerly before returning back to your topic. “But I do need to tell you this right now.”

“Okay, okay, whatever,” he was waving his hand again and suddenly he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, pushing you towards the VIP booth. You clenched your teeth.

“I’m quitting.”

Just as suddenly the pushing started, it ended just as so too. The manager stilled and you imagined his face was turning green and blue. So you turned to face him but he wasn’t looking at you. Frowning, you glanced towards where his eyes were fixated just to spot Jinyoung. Oh god. No.

“Ah, Mr Park, what a pleasure to see you here,” started your manager, his entire attitude rapidly changing. “She is right here, just as you requested.”

“Thank you,” said Jinyoung, walking towards you with a gentleman smile. As he stood close to you, he uttered your name and you thought you haven’t heard correctly. Did he request you? And the way he said your name... “Did I interrupt something just now?” he asked suddenly, looking at your manager quizzically.

“No!”

“Yes.”

Jinyoung looked at you, for a moment surprised. You were surprised too. “Oh, then I wouldn’t want to bother.”

“But of course you do not bother, Mr Park. I will talk to her later after she is done,” said your manager, bowing to Jinyoung slightly while he looked at you up, glaring silently. Idiot.

“I can come pick you up later,” whispered to you Jinyoung.

Your heart stopped. “Actually, I told him everything I wanted,” you spilled quickly, suddenly eager to be with him alone and ask what he wanted from you out of all the beautiful ladies present today at the bar. “We can go.”

As Jinyoung took your hand gently, an electric shock flashed through your insides when you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. There was always this feeling from intertwined hands – they just felt so intimate in a way.

You were so out you forgot to glare back at your manager who also saw the gesture as he straightened back up from his bow.

“Is everything okay?” You heard Jinyoung ask as he was leading you through the yet another busy bar. Another VIP room was in front of you – not the one your manager was pushing you towards. Wasn’t it supposed to be with the other guys as well?

Oh, right, Jinyoung requested you. Did he want you all for himself? What was his intention? These questions were eating you away as you entered the booth, luxurious champagne ready with loads of ice and two glasses. So it was really just the two of you. Holy moly...

“Nothing,” you said as you sat down where Jinyoung motioned for you. “I just quitted the job, but I guess he hasn’t realised it yet.”

Jinyoung sat down opposite you which was another surprising point. In this bar, no man and woman sat as far as 50 centimetres away from each other. Park Jinyoung sat down on the exact opposite site from you. “That’s good news,” he said, making himself comfortable.

Your eyebrow shot up. “Oh? If you don’t want to see me here, why did you request me?” you asked, although you were hopeful he wouldn’t agree to your words. That would hurt.

Jinyoung smirked. “It means I can have you all for myself.”

“What do you mean?”

He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. “I have a request for you. You can disagree, but I think you will be more than in.”

You sighed, adjusting your short skirt. “I just quit my job, Mr Park. And if I recall correctly, last time we saw each other I reminded you that we are not for personal use. If that is not the case, then I will decline your offer to work for your strip club you are secretly leading, before you will have the opportunity to ask me.”

The man opposite you was swallowing your words until they sank in and he started to laugh hardly, eye wrinkles forming around his eyes. Realising only now, you never saw him as much as smile that way, let alone laugh. It was definitely a pleasant thing to watch and hear.

“I like you too much already,” he said once he recovered.

You didn’t understand what he was trying to imply. His words were not adding up.

“But yeah, I can see you do not understand, miss Y/N,” he continued, observing you, entertained. “I would like to ask you to accompany me to a few galas.”

Wait.

He... What?

That left you speechless. His words were still not adding up in your poor, tired mind. Just a few hours ago you were yawning widely, thinking about how to cram the entire human central nervous system into your poor brain and now this frigging handsome and obviously successful and rich man was asking you, you who are as poor as it could be for low class people, to accompany him for some posh, expensive galas? You didn’t even own nice clothes.

“That is absolutely not a problem,” replied Jinyoung. Your eyes widened when you realised you said that last sentence out loud. Shit. “I am paying for everything – dress, make-up, accommodation, food, whatever you wish for, consider it already taken care of.”

Your mouth went dry. This is ridiculous. Did you fall asleep over the med books and this was your wildest dream?

“Are you...” you trailed off, clearing your throat. “I may seem naive to you, but I am not.  If this is some kind of joke, I will not fall for it.”

Jinyoung’s face turned serious quickly. “It isn’t actually a joke. The truth is, I am single and I do need a company that I can take to these events.”

“I don’t even know you,” you retorted quickly, not listening to his words properly, “and you might as well sell me for organs or rape me.”

Jinyoung smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes as before. “I understand and know where you are coming from. I will pay for all the hours you are going to be away from your home, so you won’t have to be in this bar anymore. I will give you much more than they offer here and I assure your safety and protection.”

You frowned and shook your head no. “I’m sorry. Why me? You know how I am, how I look when I’m not here. I’m just a simple person, Mr Park. It doesn’t make sense why out of all the beautiful ladies here, you would choose me.”

This was finally something that Jinyoung didn’t have a direct answer for and although your heart fell a bit, you still felt a little pride nudging at you for calling him out. “I just wish to get to know you better,” he said after a minute of silence - as if he was choosing his words carefully. “If you need some time to process and think it through, I understand.”

“Where are the galas happening?”

“In Seoul.”

Too far. “For how long?”

“There will be three galas exactly. One next week, and the other two later in the month or the next month, I’m not sure. It is a matter of 2 days per each gala.”

Pursing your lips, you inhaled a big amount of air, hoping it would get enough oxygen for you to function well. “I need a bit of time.”

“That’s okay with me,” he said, smiling gently. He stood up and took something out of the pockets of his expensive business trousers. “Here. This is my personal card with all the contact information. You can call me and let me know how you decided.”

You nodded and with a polite smile, took the card. Park Jinyoung. He is living in Seoul after all. It still wouldn’t say what on Earth he was working.

“If you decide to come, I will give you a ride.”

You looked up at him to see him staring directly into your eyes. Not once did you feel his eyes travelling bravely down your exposed body. Or at least it was overexposed for your liking. As you were sitting, the skirt just barely managed to cover your butt. You breasts were almost jumping out of the tight dress, breathing restrictions had to be taken as a natural disadvantage of being sexy it seemed so.

But Park Jinyoung not once disrespected you in any way.

“So, I will take my leave,” he said since you didn’t say anything to him, bowing his head subtly.

And he seemed like he was saying the truth.             He seemed like he would keep his words. He seemed like he would pay you a good amount.

Maybe you could share with your family? Finally buy them some warm clothes for the tough winter? And you could definitely pay for some med school expanses. And Jenna wouldn’t have anything against you if it would come to it.

Even if she would tell the truth to your parents, you could stand up for yourself.

And Park Jinyoung would not be in your life afterwards anymore. That’s what you assumed. This was all a formal thing, right? You could try to give it a go and still back up-

“Okay,” you blurted out, making Jinyoung stop right in the doorway. He turned around with a pleasantly surprised expression and you suddenly remembered the way he took your hand today. The way he whispered in your ear. You inhaled. “I will do it.”

[relucant]

i am legit so terrified my mother is going to give herself a stroke before i escape in a week. and because she cares about nothing except her own anxiety and the cat, despite my begging her in literal tears to help put a plan in place for what happens to my father if that does happen, to the shock of no one, she has done zero to make that happen even a little.

i mean, the cat is sick, which obviously puts her even more on edge than always -- i love the cat more than life itself and i would take a bullet for him in an instant, but he is pretty much her therapy animal and the only thing keeping her even remotely tethered to this earth. and he’s 11, and has liver problems, so yeah. it’s scary. but like, it’s also basically textbook UTI -- which last week at the vet, even before he started feeling sick, the vet was like “i’m going to go ahead and test him for a UTI, i think it might be possible.” i hate it when people are like “oh, it’s okay, he’ll be fine!” because maybe he won’t be, and that’s terrifying, but also like... the cat’s having some intestinal ickiness and doesn’t feel good isn’t quite apocalyptic yet.

and my father is garbage to be in the same room as, absolutely, but like... there’s also ways to cope somewhat with him, and she just is in such a constant spiral of literally paralytic anxiety that she just... won’t do absolutely anything to make her life slightly less miserable even it requires changing her behavior even a tiny bit.

“he just... he just came in here earlier, and just, i had all the magazines stacked up on the chair, and he just picked them up and threw them on the bed!” okay yeah, because he’s an asshole with dementia, but like, can you tell him not to do that? “stop attacking me!”

having a full-on panic attack, sucking in breaths, finally gasping out, “he- he came in here, and he said he was going to do laundry!” while bursting into full sobbing. “he- he can’t do his laundry! he doesn’t use bleach, and he- he just throws his underwear full of shit into the laundry!” yeah dude, that’s fucking awful. but erupting in earsplitting shrieks of “NO YOU CAN’T FUCKING WASH YOUR UNDERWEAR YOU HAVE A PAIR BECAUSE I JUST FUCKING CHECKED” well, have you considered, “no, don’t, they need to be bleached, i’ll do it tomorrow.” 

obviously, “calm down” has never made any situation better in the entire history of anything, ever. and her situation sucks. mine is probably worse in the immediate, because i have two parents who don’t know or care that, like, i’m a human being and not their maid/emotional support punching bag, respectively, but i have a way out, and she doesn’t, so that’s awful. and it’s going to be awful, at least until he dies, but again, like, it doesn’t have to be absolutely, intentionally as horrifying awful as it can possibly be, because making anything a little better would require her, like, doing something.

i keep trying to get on her case about looking into, like, actually getting treatment for her crippling anxiety disorder, even though i’ve been on this futile merrygoround for at least a decade and the circle never changes, because she’s so wrapped up in her cocoon of anxiety i don’t think she wants it to change.

every single time i bring up the possibility of just talking to someone about how bad it is -- like, i dunno, her shrink to start with, who it’s a miracle i even finally got her to go to that even, and i am dubious she’ll continue after i leave, even though she likes her shrink and also her shrink will come to the house, or even just her GP, who she also likes -- she just immediately reverts into, like, “well, maybe i should just start taking my xanax every day again.” no like, dude, that’s like... not a treatment for chronic anxiety. “well it says anxiety on the bottle.” yes. for like... a plane trip.

this exact back and forth has happened probably 50+ times, and she just deletes it and reuses it over and over.

“but -- but i don’t want to quit drinking! i can’t, not right now with what’s going on!” like honestly fair enough, that train has left the station. so like... okay, don’t. if you go to a doctor who refuses to treat you unless you quit drinking, like... go to a different doctor. i asked my shrink, and she’s kinda like yeah, obviously, drinking isn’t great on psych meds, but for most anxiety meds, it mostly just decreases their effectiveness (and don’t drive, which she doesn’t anyway), not kill you, and still probably better than nothing.

and then after the xanax response, and then the drinking response, she just shuts down any further attempt at the conversation and starts crying about whatever asshole thing my father last did, which she completely did not in any way at any time ask or tell him to, like, not do that. until she’s so upset she starts banshee shrieking at him for doing a thing she never once told him not to do. (or vice versa)

and i realized the other night that what gets to me so much (among a million other things) is like... the exact shitty ways he behaviors towards her, and that she comes sobbing to me about, are like... unsettlingly similar to ways she behaviors towards me, if in different ways.

like, come into her room, sit down, talk blankly at her about stupid shit and then get annoyed when she tries to actually respond? kiiinda like every time she comes into my room, sits down, complains to me about the exact same thing she complained about last night, and then gets upset when i try to have a back and forth conversation.

“he just -- he just says the same thing, over and over! five times in the last two days if we have money for the gardener! he’s asked me twice today what the baby’s name is! he told me three times he’s going to go get the mail! it’s like talking to a r*tarded toddler!” (excuse that word, not sure how to rephrase)

yes mom, and that’s the 10th time this week you’ve said it’s like talking to a toddler, and i’ve said yes, it is like talking to a toddler, because he has dementia, he cannot form new memories, and two minutes later you just wail that it’s like talking to a toddler, again.

and the cycle continues, because i know perfectly well it’s as pointless to think there’s any chance of her making any significant changes in her behavior or grasp on her mental health, any more so than my father whose brain is nearly chewed up and spat out by now. but she’s still in there just enough that i can’t help feeling like i could almost get through to her if i could figure out how. and when she’s not near my father, like when we were up in new jersey with my brother and sister in law and baby nephew, her anxiety abated to the point that lke, yeah, she still had a meltdown when faced with like, a single step, despite being surrounded by three able-bodied adult humans, but overall, mentally, was like at like 70% a fairly normal elderly woman, kinda dotty but doting on her grandchild and puppies and basking in at least one of her children turning out with an apple pie life (about 15 years later, but still pretty perfect). and so i’m haunted by all the what-ifs, what if she can just survive until my father dies and she’ll be okay, so maybe i can still help, so maybe i should keep trying, even though i know, i know, i know.

and i try to keep in mind that it’s also easier for me because, like, my father more or less likes me, as a person -- i don’t think he’s ever loved me, or is capable of love (except for our pets, which honestly is a fairly big redeeming factor, i suppose) but he thinks i’m interesting, and my brother, and that if he was manipulated into having kids by whatever the hell he used to do, his resentment of our existence is tempered somewhat by the fact that he’s kinda pleased with how we turned out, and i have one or two pleasant memories of sitting on the trunk of his old car as a small child pointing out the pleiades, or drunkenly reciting ts eliot on the kitchen floor. my mother does not get that leeway; he thinks (or acts, at least) that since he did his duty and got married and procreated, her entire existence should be devoted to his convenience -- not even comfort, just convenience, and making herself exist as little as possible.

which plays into the cycle again because then i, unfairly, resent my mother for that more than him, because it genuinely did not occur to me even as a precocious kid that fathers were supposed to, like, love their children until i was at least in middle school if not later; it still jars me sometimes, bitterly, when i see dads who are just like in love with their kids. but my mom was my mom, so as it became clear that she never actually wanted to, like, parent anyone either, she’s the one my hurt and pissiness channels to.

anyway if anyone actually read all of this, i know i say the same shit over and over about this, but it’s so complicated not many of the few people i talk to one on one know what’s going, and i don’t want to over-vent, but i feel like i’m about to claw my skin off with the anger and frustration and regret, so thanks.

in a funny-scary sign-off, so i finally convinced my mother to get a mini-freezer so i can stock it full of real food before i bounce to eurasia next week, and it came today; instructions said to let it sit for a few hours after getting it in place before plugging it in, so i hauled it into a convenient dining room corner and forgot it. fast forward i come out to the kitchen to check on the huge vat of minestone soup i’m making and my father is lumbering triumphantly out of the kitchen pantry with a frayed probably 40 year old extension cord in his hand.

i blink at him, immediately concerned. he’s like, “i think i’ll go ahead and hook up that new... thing-a-ma-jig! ‘cause the thing on the plug, it’s got the three things [prongs], but the things in the walls, they’ve only got the two things! so i’m gonna just go ahead and plug it in here!”

i’m like, “NONONONONONONO!” because like (a) common sense and (b) the manual was specifically like do not do NOT use an extension cord, and if you MUST make ABSOLUTELY SURE it has these EXACT SPECIFICATIONS and is IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM SOME DECREPIT CORD-SNAKE YOU DUG OUT OF THE DUSTY BOWELS OF YOUR KITCHEN PANTRY (i may have exaggerated that last bit). he’s like what?? i explain that to him, in fewer words, and that i in fact have an adapter specifically to convert two-prong to three-prong.

he’s mystified, demands explanation of how that works; i try to elaborate, that i put the two prong end in the wall and plug the freezer into the three-prong end, and just blank looks. “well i don’t think that’s going to work, i think we should just use this.” i just kinda take it, tell him i’ve got it under control, ignore his aggrieved hissing, and walk away.

i go to tell my mom this, because like gallows humor or gtfo i guess -- she’s like jesus even i realize that’s not a good idea -- and only then do i realize that the extension cord he had so proudly produced was in fact a two prong... to a two prong. so either he didn’t notice that, or more likely, just intended to jam the two prongs into the extension cord and just leave the third prong kinda just... out.

and it’s sad as hell, because dude was an electrical engineer who worked at the absolute cutting-edge of the aerospace industry, like literally worked on apollo 11 at cape canaveral and dementia has eaten his brain to the point he doesn’t understand plugs. but. sometimes you take the laughs where you can get it.

anyway one week one day from right now my plane takes off so please can just like (a) my cat (b) my mother and (c) my father hang on that long (in that order) until i have enough distance to get my fucking head on straight again for a tiny little bit.