#which is how i had to find out every vet in the city stopped treating gerbils apparently!

[wild-at-mind]

There’s a lot I don’t miss about keeping gerbils. But oh my god, when you hold them and kiss one of their lil ears and it feels like a flower petal. I keep thinking about it I’m gonna cry. :’0

[xenospacebabe]

Broken Wings

Hawks drabble

A/N: So I imagine for some reason that regular doctors and surgeons are capable of treating Hawks to a fault. But when it comes to his wings, they’re a bit...lost?

Summary: After coping with treating injuries to his wings by himself, Hawks finds himself with a more serious injury than he can handle. He can’t open his wings, or fly. The pain is mind numbing. He finds himself breaking into an animal clinic for some help.

Warning: Broken bones. Mild language

HawksxReader

7am. The doors don’t open until 8:30, but you still had things to do from yesterday that weren’t even started. Clutching your steel tumblr full of coffee that’ll barely scratch the surface of your exhaustion, you stifled a yawn and crawled out of your car. Barely remembering to lock it. You always parked on the side of the building so as not to take up any spaces in front. The key missed the lock a few times before eventually sliding inside and turning to the side.

The moment you turned on the lights, a couple of dogs in the back already started barking, hungry for breakfast and ready to go home. Your veterinary clinic was modest in size, but it was always busy. It was your father’s practice before he retired and passed it down to you after finishing school. Now it was all yours. It was hard work, but your clients were loyal. Many of them have been around since the place opened almost 30 years ago. You were the vet that people would recommend to their friends who needed help and had struggles affording it. Your clinic was the one that everyone knew cared the most about patients rather than money. And it showed. While your profits were great, it wasn’t what you were concerned the most about.

After setting down your things in your office, you tied back your hair into a high ponytail and took a long drink of your “breakfast.” You looked at the white board on your wall, deciding which surgery from yesterday to start on first. Picking the cat spay, you headed towards the back to get started. Passing surgery and into the kennels, you found your patient and greeted her with a sweet voice and scratches on her cheeks.

“Good morning, Sadie. You ready, sweet girl? C’mon.” The cat whined tiredly as you scooped her into your arms to bring into the surgical room. But when you lifted your head and looked inside you screamed. Unfortunately, this spooked your cat and she bolted out of your arms to hide under the kennels.

“AH SHIT! Sadie! Sadie c’mere girl! Who are you?!” There sitting on your operating counter was a man. A shirtless man with enormous wings that nearly filled the small room. He was covered in decently serious lacerations and wounds that made the surface of his skin look like a blue, black, green, and purple water color canvas. He looked terrible with deep bags under his eyes. However, he looked at you through messy strands of hair that hung in his face with a tired but smug expression.

“Really? You don’t know who I am?” He said, his voice croaking out with a subtle groan of pain. Your eyes shifted from his, those golden pools that shined like the sun, to the massive crimson wings. They, too, looked to be in disarray. Feathers stuck out in random places, others crumpled, many painted in blood. However his left hung in a slightly abnormal manner.

“I’m sorry. You shocked me all of a sudden. You’re Hawks right? What are you doing here? How did you even get in? The doors were all locked.” As you finished your statement, a single red feather lifted in mid air and hovered, showing you its bent up quill. He picked the lock with the feather and locked it behind him.

“Sorry. I just-..mmgghh...I think it’s broken. And the clowns at the city hospital the commission would send me to aren’t capable of fixing it. I found you online, you do exotics, right? Birds and stuff?”

All the while he was explaining his situation, you were assessing his condition. The area that connected the wing to his back appeared incredibly swollen, and slightly out of place. Without thinking, you reached out to palpate the area causing him to immediately flinch and groan out loud.

“Sorry! Sorry. I’m used to my patients being-...well animals. But yes, I’m a small animal and exotics vet. There’s a couple birds I’ve been treating for a long time.” Now this time, as you were talking, Hawks had his eyes trained on you. He was listening to every word you spoke intently. “Some of them were my dad’s patients before he retired. Shows how old they can get.”

Hawks braced the cold steel of the table, crouching forward some. His skin seemed damp with sweat, the pain he was in must have been affecting his body temperature. You needed to act quickly if you were going to save his wing.

“Okay, so. I have to touch it. I need to get a couple xrays to see if we have any breaks and we’ll go from there. I don’t....all I have are sedatives for animals. Would that..?”

“It’s fine, ain’t no pain out there that I can’t handle.” He looked at you with a charming smirk, clearly flexing his pain threshold to impress you. Because he looked you up and down and liked what he saw. Even in those scrubs which were relatively form fitting but patterened in cartoon cats and dogs.

“I’m serious. This is really going to hurt. Are you-“

“I said I can handle it.” Hawks snapped, frustrated with the questions now. He just wanted the pain to stop. And besides, that cute look on your blushing face was too good to miss.

“Alright...well...first you need to help me find my cat that you scared off.”

“You mean this one?” Appearing in front of you held under the arms and the butt by a trio of feathers was your very angry, very sleepy cat. You sighed in relief and retrieved her into your arms. It took some settling to calm her down but you were a natural with all animals. It came so easily. She was comfortable in her kennel when you set her back inside and you felt your brain shift gears.

You first had to get your hands on the wing. Just to get a feel of what you were working with. You’d never seen such beautiful, red feathers before. Even though you saw parrots and other birds daily. These were just...breathtaking. But even the most beautiful wings didn’t stop the pain of broken bones. Hawks groaned behind tight lips when you gently palpated the swollen wing. Inside you felt the distinct break and slight crunchiness that accompanied it. The growling in his throat didn’t frighten you, after all, you dealt with aggressive animals day in and day out.

“Y-you almost finished there, Doc? Agghh...” He finally outwardly complained when you flexed his wing. Your hands were gentle but it was still nearly unbearable. Slowly and carefully, you folded his wing back down into its natural resting position.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I know it hurts. But thank you for holding still. Alright. Let’s do some xrays.”

After some struggling and repositioning, and many awkward brushes of hands and faces, you and Hawks were successful in taking some clear shots of what you determined was a broken wing. You didn’t notice his eyes on you as you explained it to him. The room was dark, illuminated only by the backlight box that made it possible to see the xray photos. But he was studying your face quite intently.

The space between your eyebrows crinkled a little when you would point to a specific spot on the xray in concentration. When you were quiet in thought, your tongue pressed against your cheek or you nibbled your bottom lip. The slope of your nose was accentuated by the pale shine of the light box to make it look like you had a cute button nose. Everything you were saying filled his ears but didn’t register as anything coherent. Eventually, you noticed.

“Hawks? Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Your voice brought him out of the trance he’d slipped into and he blinked rapidly to soothe his eyes. He hadn’t blinked once.

“Oh! Uh-...aheh...I’m fine. And please...call me Keigo.”

“Keigo?”

“Yeah, that’s my real name. Hawks is just my hero name. I can trust you, yeah?” He looked down at you with those eyes that you swore were glowing and swallowed harshly. Suddenly your throat was dry.

“R-right! I knew that. Keigo...so...like I said. The break is pretty clean. Luckily there’s no fragments or splinters that would make a problem.”

“So what can you do to fix me?” He lied, though, about being in pain. Broken bones were painful enough. But a broken bone that carried the heavy weight of his wing was absolutely agonizing. However, years of working as a pro hero conditioned him into hiding his pain from his enemies.

“Well, there isn’t a lot we can do. Other than immobilize the wing so the bone can heal back together.”

That got his attention.

“Immobilize? You mean I can’t-“

“Fly. Yeah. Not forever, but for a while. You’d have to come back every now and then for xrays so I can see how the healing is progressing. Given the size, I’d imagine...6 weeks?”

6 weeks? Of no flying? Hawks hadn’t spent that long out of the sky in so long that he wasn’t sure he remembered what it felt like to walk anywhere. You could see the panic in his eyes, beads of sweat formed on his neck and forehead. So you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him. He froze, not sure of what to do.

“Sorry! Sorry.” You quickly withdrew your hand. “That’s a habit. I always try to comfort the parents of my patients when they get difficult news.”

“No no, it’s-...you just surprised me.” He reached for your hand and returned it to his shoulder which was still bare. You hadn’t even realized he hadn’t redressed after finishing the radiographs. Your palm rested on his shoulder, his skin was warm to the touch. Your thumb gently stroked the end of his collarbone as you often did to support your clients. Beneath your fingers you felt the impressive muscle he had, in spite of appearing relatively lean, the muscle tone of his torso was quite defined. You imagined it had to be in order for him to fight villains and hold himself aloft while flying.

“I know it’s a difficult thing to hear. Your wings take you everywhere, I’m sure. But this won’t last forever, okay?” Something about your voice was so soothing to his fried nerves. But you’d never know because of how cool and composed he made himself appear.

“You don’t mind?” Hawks felt his anxiety dissolve when he thought about getting to see you next. It was a strange feeling, but he knew he could trust you. Those pretty eyes of yours really spoke volumes.

“Of course not. Now let’s get you taped up and on your way. I’m sure you’re exhausted, no doubt whatever broke your wing has you worn out.”

“Heh you can say that again.” There it was, his suave and too-cool demeanor. But you didn’t mind it. You were sure it was just a front he was used to keeping up. After all, you were just a civilian and he couldn’t afford to let anyone know just how weak he was.

You managed to tape and place Hawks’ wing in a makeshift splint. He refused any medication but you could tell by the way he white knuckled the table that he was in pain. A majority of the time, your patients were under anesthesia when setting broken bones. So you had to be careful this time about how heavy handed you were. By the time you were finished, you had less than 10 minutes to get him out the door before your techs and kennel attendants showed up for work.

“Come see me in a week. We’ll take more xrays and make any adjustments if you need them. Try to keep the splint dry, and rest. I mean it, Hawks.”

“Alright, Doc. I’ll be a good little bird just for you.” The winged hero winked at you as he slipped out the back door. You felt your heart leap into your throat and cheeks burn up as a result. Just as he disappeared, you heard the sounds of your employees coming in and quickly closed the door and composed yourself.

“Morning, Doc!” One of them said as you appeared in the exam area. You smiled and waved, reaching into the pocket of your white coat with your other hand. Something was in there. You looked inside and saw red. A feather. Unbeknownst to you, Hawks had slipped one of his feathers into your pocket. You couldn’t fathom why, but you felt a strange sense of comfort when you ran the tip of your finger along the center spine. It quivered when you did so.

“Ungh...” In an alley a block away, Hawks had to brace a brick wall with one hand. His insides trembled as he sensed you touching his feather. Even he didn’t know why he left one with you. But the thought of parting made him remarkably...sad?

“Get it together, Keigo...” He muttered to himself, shaking his head and continuing back home. It would be a long 6 weeks out of the sky, but at least he’d be able to see you.

A/N: This was longer than I anticipated omg. Does anyone think I should continue?

[quinncupine]

Hiiii quinn! I never realised you did requests but if it would be fine (and also because its my sole goal) could you do a boom boom boi and izubby with having their own cat or dog as a pet??? I'm seriously thinking that boom boom boi would be both a cat and dog person, don't u agree? (Ily lots and don't feel pressured to do this if you have a lot of stuff going on!)

Hi Dorki! I'm finally making my way through my requests and I was really excited to write this one! Okay, hope you like it!

Quinns Masterlist

Wanna request something?

The Boys with Pets

Word Count: 1,750

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo!

Warnings: dogs, cats, cursing

Izuku Midoriya

Now Izuku loves pretty much all animals, but I can totally see him getting a dog. Dogs are loyal and full of energy just like a certain green-haired hero. The perfect duo.

He would probably rescue one from the pound, the one with the biggest, saddest, cutest eyes because how could he not? But someone has to go with him because he'd try to rescue them all if there was no one there to stop him. Once a hero, always a hero I suppose.

I'm thinking for names, he would definitely pick a name that reflects his favorite heroes. Don't be surprised if he names his dog something super cheesy like Mighty or Rocky…

Wait, okay, I've decided, he names his dog Mighty and that is the hill I will die on.

The life of a hero is quite busy so when he goes off on long missions, he drops the dog off at his mom's house. Inko has fallen in love with this sweet pup, so much so that she sometimes begs him to stop by with the dog for a visit. It's the closest thing she's got to grandbabies at the moment, she'll take what she can get :)

Now, this cute pup draws in the attention of just about everyone so he's gotten an influx of attention and a few numbers slipped in his hand during their walks, much to his flustered surprise.

Best wingman ever.

This dog goes on regular runs with Izuku and sometimes even helps him with training. I'm thinking a Collie or an Aussie would just be the perfect fit for him to keep up with his personality and lifestyle. He needs an active dog!

I can see it now, he goes on his daily morning runs with this cute Lil furry training buddy and they race the whole way! A few regulars on the trail know about this and it's become sort of a tradition to cheer the two on as they pass.

 ...

The morning air was crisp with the slight scent of the coming autumn, the perfect morning for a run. Izuku, dressed in his usual training wear, had a steady rhythm going for the last forty minutes, letting out even, controlled breaths. This was the easy part of the run, a warm-up if anything, and he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. The canine jogging by his side was enjoying the dewy morning air as well, tongue happily flopping out the side of her mouth. The shared morning ritual between man and man's best friend: Mighty.

Her tail picked up speed, wagging uncontrollably as they neared the bend where the giant jagged rock towered over the path. It was the place marker to start the race. A three-mile run to the top of the hill located at the center of the park. It was also Mighty's favorite part of the morning.

"Ready girl?" Izuku grinned down at the ecstatic dog who barked in reply.

The instant the two of them passed the big rock, they both broke out in full speed, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Happy barks filled the air as she gained the upper hand. Izuku laughed as the dog turned to look back at him lagging behind her. He always did these races without his quirk to assist him. It was only fair and it helped him work on his natural stamina in case he was ever in a situation where he couldn't use his quirk. Always good to be prepared.

He watched as she bounded up the first steep hill on the trail. There were a few small hills on this route, but this one was the hardest to climb and Mighty had the advantage with her four legs so she always managed to pull ahead first. She stopped at the top and barked him on before quickly disappearing over the crest.

When he reached the top, he stopped for just a second to take in his surroundings. This part of the park was a heavily wooded area with numerous trails that many people used to hike or run. It also served as a great view of the city skyline and he couldn't help but stop and admire the rising sun from between the foggy buildings every time. Then Mighty barked to pull him out of his thoughts.

"It's not over yet!" He called after her and raced down the hill, putting on an extra burst of speed to easily close the distance.

Tail wagging, she nipped playfully at his feet as they sprinted along the path, side by side. There weren't many people out this early so he usually had the trail to himself. The only sounds were the wind in the trees, the leaves crunching under feet and paws, Mighty barking beside him, and his own unrestrained glee as they ran together.

These were the mornings he loved. Just the two of them, away from the stresses that came with pro-hero work. He wouldn't trade being a hero for anything, but sometimes it got to be too much so coming here to clear his mind with a little run was always a cathartic release, only made better by the furry companion by his side.

The short bridge that arched over the creek signaled the last mile. Getting more serious, Izuku pulled ahead of Mighty, not able to hold back the giant grin as he streaked across the bridge, startling a few birds off the railings which Mighty barked at as she came up behind him.

Up ahead was a large open meadow with a small duck pond near the center. A few benches were scattered about the path and he saw the same elderly couple sitting in their usual spot with a bag of rice and seed to feed the plethora of ducks waddling around their feet.

"You got him this time Mighty!" The old man looked up as the two of them zipped down the path towards the couple.

"Show 'em what girls can do!" The woman cracked a smile, waving her hands.

"Morning Mr. and Mrs. Fujino!" Izuku waved as he passed. "Don't count me out yet!"

Mighty barked her greeting and took a detour, herding some ducks closer to the couple then with a quick lick to Mr. Fujino's hand, she sprinted back to catch up to Izuku.

The Fujino's marked the last leg of the race. The only thing left was to climb the top of the largest hill in the park to the old oak tree at the top. That was the finishing line. It was always a gamble as to who finished first every day, but Mighty sure had a competitive spirit.

Izuku pumped his legs as he steadily made his way up to the dirt trail, Mighty just behind him before she suddenly veered left and disappeared into the shrubbery. He was so focused on the tree that slowly came into view just around the curve as he neared the top that he didn't notice.

Just as the path leveled out, almost to the finish line, he glanced back to see no sign of his dog. The tree was a few feet away when a furry mass ambushed him from the side, knocking him clean off his feet. The pro hero landed in the grass with a heavy Oof. Sitting on his chest was Mighty, looking quite proud of herself.

"Cheater!" He laughed, trying his best to hold back the slobbery licks she was determined to give him. "Okay, okay, I'll call it a tie!"

 Katsuki Bakugo

Now Katsuki on the other hand would totally be a cat person. Not that he has anything against dogs, but cats are more his style. They don't need constant attention and are pretty much self-sufficient. Just the way he likes it.

That being said, Katuski would go all out on toys and the latest gizmos to take care of his cat. Has a self-cleaning litter box, a waterfall bowl, an automatic feeder, etc. You get the picture.

Oh, and toys galore. If he has space, this cat is getting a personal jungle gym that lets him walk up to the ceiling. S.P.O.I.L.E.D.

Doesn't like to tell people just how much he actually loves this cat because he's never been one to express emotions, but this cat just gets him to his core. They share the same wavelength and he appreciates that. The cat is the only one he trusts to open up to, so sometimes you might catch him ranting to the poor thing who just stares back with big wide eyes and occasional meows. Yup, totally gets him.

I see him with a super chill cat, like maybe a Ragdoll or a Russian Blue. Something that tolerates his constant screaming and explosions.

This guy is just as bad at names. It'll definitely be something long and dramatic like Lord Cat Explosion Demon God of Furballs. Yep. He doesn't take criticism so most people call him Lord Furballs, much to his disdain.

Katsuki won't ask for attention from the cat, but the little furry feline is a total cuddler and will often find itself curled up in his lap or even on his neck if Katsuki's sitting on the couch. You better believe this guy won't be moving until that cat decides it's time to move. He's been late to meetings with friends because of this cuddly cat.

He's a hero so this cat is definitely being treated right. Katuski is no slacker when it comes to caring for his lil buddy. The vet is on speed dial should anything ever happen.

Did someone say a custom-made collar that matches his hero costume to a tee?

He's never loved anything more.

 ...

"Uh, hey Bakubro, why is your cat glaring at me?" Ejiro asked, staring down at the feline.

"What?" Katsuki didn't even bother to look up from his laptop.

"Your cat. It's giving me the evil eye. I thought it was supposed to be friendly." The red-haired hero frowned, not able to break eye contact with the cat. "I don’t think it likes me."

The small furry creature had lazily curled up in the sunspot next to Katsuki's feet, purring away without a care in the world. It seemed harmless enough, except for the heavy glare it was shooting Ejiro's way.

"Heh," Katsuki finally glanced down and crossed his arms. "He's not glaring. That's just his face."

"Ah," Ejiro nodded, "like father like son."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"

Taglist: @thecindy @peachsenpie @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10 @freckledoriya

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

[untitledtheunknown]

RE: ROGUE; TEAM UPDATE

Pulled some strings, called in a few favors, but think I have our next merc group set up. Least the makings of it, few odd bodies we may pick up along the way. Running out of chances to end this thing going on with Umbra. NC is about to get a lot messier if the rat problem isn't dealt with and think this is our best shot.

First things though, sent that message like a month ago that The Veils are looking to move West, they're moving into Cali for whatever reason Azera has seen. Lord just follows her orders, but the rest of the clan follows them to death. Well, they're finally making the move which has both been a good and bad thing for us and our Nomad friends out in the Badlands. They're making quick work of some Wraith encampments, but Lord has no interest in allies, he'll start, if he hasn't already, wiping out every clan that's in their way. This is where we need to start making deals, Aldecaldos ain't gonna just give up their territory, Wraiths aren't getting a choice, and we can't have just a sit down with Lord and Azera.

Where our first new agent comes in; they have a daughter, Silver. She runs a lot of their military ops, likes her guns big and the explosions bigger. She's agreed to work with me, and by extension you, as she is compassionate, she wants to find that middle ground that doesn't involve the mindless slaughter of other "noble" clans. She's going to be our muscle, she has access to a armory of weapons of war, explosives, tanks, gun galore - you name it, she has access to it. She works with us, we work with her, she can convince at least her mother to have the other clans spared. Have to pull our weight that they're worth saving, satisfy Lord's bloodlust, because biggest fear is it wont stop at the city line. She has her own motives for wanting to get close, long story about situations going on back at base. Tell you some other time, probably sooner than later, but yeah. Silver is good, she's young, but she grew up with Vets and Panzerboys, she knows her shit and knows how to take orders just as well as dish them out. Her team comes first, just don't treat her as a rookie.

Emile Martinez, may of heard of her under the name Red Ring. I know you said to get a Netrunner, but trust me on her, she's better than any Runner you can find. Techie Crystaljock, she does everything old school. She knows viruses and net shutouts better than anyone. Hell, how many times she's been under investigation by NetWatch for potential RABBIDS outbreak? They really think she's the second coming of the Net wipe out, and I don't blame them. She can clear a 5 story building in 10sec flat; stealth is always an option, stealth killing the whole gang is another one. Contagion and viruses are her specialties, all her bugs are made by her and controlled strictly by her. She works on old school tech and uses old programs that are so out of date new systems can't block them out. But if we need, she is an expert hacker, she can crack most systems and override almost every security program she can get into. She just ain't about committing her life to cyberspace. She rather pull them into the real world. She's a bit wild, and has a temper, may push back. But she's damn good at what she does and her expertise in older tech may just be the foot up we need on these rats.

Now, I really need you to trust me on this next one. Håkan Rikusson, ex-Panzerboy out of Sweden, he had an incident several years back. Cyberpsychosis, but you know that's just a scape goat they use when they don't want to figure out what's going on with someone mentally. He had an incident, freaked out, like 3 people were injured and no deaths. Thing is when the cops, or Max or who the fuck ever went in to neutralize him; he did their job for them. Had burned out his eyes with some type of acid, sewn his mouth shut and was bound to the kitchen table. Took him to medical and besides the self inflicted injuries, he was completely fine, sound of mind even. This is where I need you to trust me, I'm putting my own name on the line for him, I know this guy, I've worked with him and he gets shit done. He thinks he's a reincarnation of Loki... don't know if it's how he copes with whatever happened or what. But he's got more tech in him now then he did then, and he pulls contracts for the likes of Arasaka, Militech, OASIS, you name it. He's a stealth guy, he gets in, cops data, takes what's needed and gets out. Not to mention he's a damn good fighter in hand to hand, and melee style. Guns he can do, but ain't his style.

Kelvy is also back in NC, may have stopped by the bar by now, dunno. She's going to be helping with recon, already fed her what I've got on the cult situation and where it started. She's not going flat out and asking. As much as I hate to say it - we can't go for a straight attack on this, Umbra needs to make the first move. We need to take them down slow but steady, wait for the slip and make our moves. What ounce of sanity he had is slipping away, he's going to get messy, just hope we'll have enough time on that.

Crew will be in NC in a couple days, Silver is already here, can get you two introduced. Meanwhile have my people working the Corpos in Inferno Luxuria, seeing what loose lips can spill on insider knowledge. I'm going to keep Ker in Vegas for another week, see if anything else comes up on this stalker issue. Damion has muscle from the Kings watching him... that's another story. Lot of those lately, need to catch up.

- Valor

[mosaicofdreamsanddragons]

Scholarly Pursuits

Tang enjoys an evening of scholarly pursuits. At least that’s what he tells the others. They don't need to know about the heist. 

Or: Upon the fear that MK might be under the circlet’s curse Tang resolves to find the activation spell and destroy it. 

Link for ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446992

It had started with a Monkey King story, as so much in Tang’s life seemed to nowadays. MK was cleaning up the mess his clone had left in Pigsy’s shop and he’d seemed so down Tang had offered a story. MK’s morose “Anything that doesn’t have clones in it,” was to be expected really. Poor kid had been through a lot.

He ran through all the stories he knew in his mind for one that didn’t involve clones or a duplicate and replace. “How about the time Monkey King attained immortality for the first time? Or perhaps how he met one of his friends?”

MK looked up from where he was sweeping. “What’s the first adventure he had with the Monk?” he said.

Tang smiled and began a story of a Monk who freed a Monkey from under a mountain, their initial clashes with a tiger and bandits, and the resulting fight over the Monkey’s viciousness that split their company until a mysterious old women who was far more then she seemed provided a hat which tightened on command. The story had its desired effect as MK had all but forgotten the broom and the now spotless floor, in favor of perching near Tang and hanging onto his every word.

“Did the circlet work cause of what was said or is it based on who said it?” he said pulling out his unauthorized autobiography and scribbling something down.

“Well…” Tang began but he was cut off by an annoyed shout.

“Stop distracting the kid!” came Pigsy’s angry voice as he stomped into the room, only to do a double take at the spotless floors. “Hhhnf,” he said. “Good job kid, you get the rest of the night off.” MK let out a happy squeal of delight and rushed up the stairs leaving Tang alone with Pigsy.

“Take out tonight?” Tang suggested but Pigsy was not listening to him.

“A circlet that tightens upon command?” said Pigsy. “Any chance that’s going to bother him?”

Tang did not let his shock at Pigsy asking for his knowledge on Monkey king stories show on his face. Instead he pushed his glasses up and smiled. “He’s not wearing one is he? So it’s irrelevant.”

Pigsy huffed and moved off, “I suppose it’s not like anyone remembers how to activate it now,” he muttered.

And Tang’s blood ran cold.

Pigsy continued on oblivious. “How can you even be hungry when you spent all day….” But the words had muted into white noise, taking a backseat to the cacophony in Tang’s brain.

Because Pigsy’s assumption was wrong. Someone did know how to activate the circlet. Tang knew, he’d learned it.

…and that meant others could too.

“…And we aren’t getting takeout when we have perfectly good leftovers!” Pigsy’s indignation finally blasting through the bombshells in Tang’s head.

He nodded and followed the pig, taking care to keep his trademark smirk on his face. No point in worrying him further. And it’s not like the kid had been wearing a circlet at any time. There was nothing to worry about.

  When he’d still been young and naïve, before he’d packed his bags and gone as far west as his meager saving would send him (only two cities over and right into Pigsy’s noodle shop) he’d attended university and managed to secure a job working under a professor in charge of the archives. Aware of his fascination with the Monkey King and thrilled to pass on the love of folklore studies to another, the professor had one day shown him an old papyrus, “And this here is the spell to activate the Monkey King’s headband.”

“Really?” said Tang committing the words to memory. “Does it work?”

“Of course not!” said his professor. “That’s just a story. But this does show us the importance the myth had in the past….”

He was huddle against Sandy and Mei watching MK return to life for the second time in one day. He burst from a stone, just like all the stories, looking exactly how Tang had always envisioned the Monkey king: hovering in the air in front of the sun, wielding a staff, and a faint glowing band across his head.

This was not a story.

This was not a dream.

This was a memory.

   He sat bolt upright and all sense of sleep gone. After checking to make sure he hadn’t woken Pigsy, he slipped onto the balcony to think. He let the cool night air chase any last remnants of sleep from him; he would need his whole mind for this.

The facts were simple. The Monkey King’s circlet caused terrible pain when activated. Tang had seen the fragments of an ancient paper with writing on it and been told it was the activation spell for the circlet. MK had appeared to have a circlet on his head during his first fight against the demon bull king.

It was the unknowns that were less straightforward. He didn’t know if the Monkey King’s circlet could be activated by anyone with the spell or if the speaker mattered. He didn’t know if anyone else had attempted to learn the spell since he’d seen it in a dusty archive. He didn’t know if MK really even had the circlet on him or if it was just some cool aesthetic he’d created with his own powers in the heat of the moment.

And MK knew and worked with the actual Monkey King. Surely he would know if his successor had inherited his circlet. And surely he’d do something about it? Right?

Tang felt his hands clench on the cold iron balcony railing. He stared at it for a moment and then took a deep breath and forced himself relax. His fingers uncurled and he tucked them into his pockets before lifting his gaze to MK’s balcony.

Fact: He’d memorized the words within moments. That information was still out there and easily accessible to any enemy who could fool a university’s security system.

Fact: Tang could not afford this risk, not with MK at stake.

“But what can I do about it?” he wondered aloud. “It’s not like I can pull of a heist by myself.” A rustle in the trees caught his attention and he froze realizing what he’d just said aloud. He scanned the area for eavesdroppers (or worse, Pigsy) but there was only an orange bird rustling around in the plants on a nearby balcony. He had avoided trouble this time but the warning was still there. If he was going to do this, no one could possibly know.

  All good heists require plans. And the best require simple plans with straightforward execution so when it all failed in the third act, he could still figure his way out. The barebones of this plan was simple: get into the university, hope the passcode for the archive vault hadn’t changed since he was a student, destroy a priceless piece of ancient papyrus, get out. He could take the bus.

Then the morning news caught his attention and he had a better idea.

“Mei,” he said sliding his phone over to her, “Could you do me a favor?”

“Sure!” she said glancing curiously down from the top picture to the article beneath it. “What do you need?”

“Could you sign up as a last minute competitor at this race for me?” said Tang.

Mei skimmed the details of the race. “I don’t know,” she said brow furrowed. “This is in the next town over and I’m not familiar with the track.”

“It could be good practice for the big race coming up,” said Tang, “or you could do it just for the fun of racing. Either way I was heading into the town and I figured why not head in together?”

“So you need a ride?” said Mei.

“And to test out my Mei merchandise,” he said holding up the flags he’d made for her. He’d been working on a hat too but she didn’t need to know about that disaster until he managed to fix it.

She looked from his tiny Mei flag and back down to the phone. “I guess it could be fun.” Her smile returned and she bounced on her chair. “Yeah. It’ll be fun!”

Tang smiled as he closed his phone on the picture of his old professor standing next to the judges in a crowd shot. His old professor was not a racer. But his old professor’s spouse was on the panel of judges for this competition. Which could very easily mean he’d be there for support. And he would know the new passcode for the archives. If there was a new passcode. The trick would be to get him talking.

And he had just the conversation starter.

  “Sandy,” he said greeting the tall blue river demon. “Could I by any chance borrow one of your therapy cats for a little trip?”

“Where ya headed?” said Sandy. “Not all of them like long term travel.”

“Mei’s got a race in the next town over,” Tang explained.

“Say no more!” said Sandy cheerfully. “Therapy cats are excellent for pre-race jitters! This is the track she doesn’t know right? The one she signed up for last minute?”

“The very same,” said Tang.

“Ordinarily I’d say you should take Mo,” said Sandy. “He’s the best for differing travel, but he’s got a vet appointment. Don’t worry though, I’m sure one of the others would be willing to help.” He started shifting through his many cats, asking them if they’d like to accompany Mei.

Tang glanced about the room. He’d need a cat that was nondescript in case this went poorly, but it would need to be able to help Mei with said pre-race jitters. He should probably just leave this to Sandy, he knew his cats best and…he felt something brush up against his legs. A fluffy orange cat looked up at him, golden eyes meeting his. He reached down to pet it but it darted off, only to turn back around and look at him like Well? What are you waiting for?

If Tang did not know Mo, this would be strange cat behavior. But he followed the cat into the kitchen…oh it wanted food. “I don’t know where Sandy keeps the cat treats,” he said.

The cat gave him what can only be described as a dirty look before hopping on the counter, grabbing a something from a basket, and placing it down in front of Tang.

“Do you want me to play?” he said reaching down and picking up…Sandy’s wallet. The cat was a little pickpocket. The cat could fetch wallets, wallets which might contain things like passcodes to old archives. He met the gold eyes of the orange cat as it smirked, smirked!, at him. You ready for a heist? it seemed to say.

“Sandy,” he said lifting the cat up. “I think I found the perfect one.”

  Mei loved the cat. “Just look at its little green stripe!” she said. “It matches my jacket! He’s the perfect little mascot!” and the cat seemed to like her happily playing with him to calm herself down. He even put up with her dancing around with him in a fit of pre-race jitters and had greatly enjoyed the ride over.

“He sure loves to race!” she grinned, setting the cat on the front of her motorcycle. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait with Mr. Tang!”

Tang smiled as he accepted the cat and waved Mei over to the starting line. Then he joined the booth with the friends and family of the other competitors, right below the judges. Time for part one of the heist.

“Okay,” he whispered to the cat. “It’s all up to you.” The cat looked at him and flashed the smirk it seemed only to display around him. Then it darted up the stairs towards the judges box.

As Tang watched the race he tried to keep his focus on how Mei was doing and how well she was taking these curves despite being new to the track and not on how he’d just hitched his heist on a cat being able to steal the wallet of his old professor. But he held his ground.

Mei was baited into taking a turn wrong by a more experienced racer. The centripetal force caused her motorcycle to teeter. And Tang felt his anxiety well up inside him. He leaned forward. What if the cat was just a cat and he was imagining all of this? What if his professor saw him and realized his aim? What if Mei didn’t make the turn and it was all his fault for suggesting this fun family outing during a heist?

Mei threw herself to one side causing her whole motorcycle to right itself and zoomed ahead. Tang let out the breath he’d been holding into a cheer before falling back into the chair he didn’t realize he’d risen from.

Only to land on something. He shifted his weight to find a leather wallet. He glanced up to see the cat a few seats above him grinning at him like Why are you so surprised?

He turned this attention back to his find and carefully flipped the wallet open, credit cards, debit cards, ID, coupons, ah ha!

Slipped behind a faculty ID was a small piece of paper with a 1410 written on it. He smiled…

…and slipped the paper back into the wallet.

The cat batted him with its paws. Why did you do that?

“Less…” he glanced around at the cheering fans around him, “…obvious” he whispered.

The cat looked at him. Then it batted the wallet through the gaps in the stands until it fell to the ground below them.

“What did you do that for!” he whisper-shouted as the crowed around him roared.

The cat innocently licked its paw and rubbed its ears. Less obvious he could almost hear innocently repeated back at him.

It…was a good point. This way the professor would not even have to know he was here and the crime wouldn’t be traced to the disappearing wallet. He’d just assumed it had fallen from his pocket to the ground below. Tang could work with this.

Mei pushed the racer who had tricked her out of the track. Tang rose to cheer, loosing himself in the race. All he had to do now was wait and support his kid.

Mei placed bronze. Tang was thrilled. Bronze on a track she hadn’t even prepped for! He ran down the stands to give her a congratulatory hug. She excitedly jumped around the track, bonze metal swinging, and he found himself swept up in her joy. The cat decided to celebrate too by stealing his flag and running around waving it in the air and sticking it in the faces off all the other contestants.

Eventually though, Mei had to head back and grabbed the overexcited kitty. “You sure you don’t want a ride back?” she said.

“No I’ve still got some scholarly pursuits in this city,” said Tang. “Go enjoy your night of celebration with the others. Pigsy said he’d have the race playing at his store, so they’ll be ready and waiting for some celebratory partying.”

Pleased at the prospect of some fun at home, she headed off bundling the cat into the motorcycle. It was less then pleased and when it finally gave up on struggling it looked back at him with big sad eyes How could you abandon me partner? He ignored it. Between the cat’s sadness and Sandy’s wrath, he’d take the former.

He waved and turned back to head towards the bus station. A glimpse of golden shimmer caught his eye but he ignored it. He was on his own now.

It was up to him.

  The only person who noticed the cat turn into a hair upon its return to Sandy’s home was Mo. Mo, being used to this nonsense by now, just went about his day as normal.

  The bus ride to the next town over was uneventful and that gave him time to plan. He’d made it this far without drawing attention to himself, no point in loosing that now, so he bought an obnoxious sweatshirt that screamed college student to the skies and a hat he could pull over his eyes. Then he took off his glasses slipping them into a bland backpack and braced himself for the future headache.

He would like to say he looked the part. But after all these years all he could hope for was that he’d be mistaken for a professor or that no one got close enough to determine his age.

The school was laid out the same way he remembered it and it was quite easy to get into the library above the archives, find a book to read, and head down to the basement to use the reading nook set up there. Conveniently able to watch the comings and goings by the archive door, while looking the very picture of a diligent student seeking a quite study spot.  

So convincing in fact, actual college students had the exact same idea. There were four or five of them sitting in the nook. Well then, looks like this was a game of patience. Fortunately for him, while he had never attempted a heist before, he was quite the expert on waiting games.

Nearly five hours later most of the students had headed off towards the main floor and the remaining two were getting antsy. The silver one’s leg wouldn’t stop moving and the gold one was nervously glancing at the archive door, and then at him, and then at the exit.

Finally the gold one turned and whispered loudly to the silver one, “I don’t think he’s going to leave. Should we knock him out?”

“Can you do it quietly?” said the silver one “What if someone hears?”

Hmmmm. He could use this. “Gentleman,” he began. “It seems we are about the same business tonight. Perhaps an unlikely truce? I don’t ask what business you have with the archives, and you don’t ask what business I have.”

Silver and Gold looked at each other. “You just had to pick today for this” “Excuse me you said no one ever tries to rob places on weekdays!” “Well now we’re in the middle of another person’s heist!” “I know that I have ears.” “What do we do?” “We could team up” “No way! That always leads to betrayal!” “We could just continue like we never saw him?” “Yeah, we’ll just pretend we never saw each other.”

Tang took the opportunity to head over to the archive and type in the passcode. The door slid open but the noise caught the attention of Gold and Silver and they darted in behind him. He’d hoped they wouldn’t notice but as they wandered away from the books and over to the museum pieces he figured he might as well just get what he came for.

Even after all these years, he still remembered where the band-tightening spell had been. Reaching into the vault he withdrew the fragile paper from its spot among the rare books. Carefully he put on his glasses to read the lines, he couldn’t risk destroying the wrong paper, that would mean the loss of a priceless piece of history. Even this one was a priceless window into the past an…bang!

He could hear Gold and Silver arguing behind him. Something about not being able to carry all of whatever they were after. Gold and Silver two thieves that could easily walk over here, read the spell, and be able to hurt his boy. He took of his glasses and slipped them into his backpack, removing what had been in there before: a lighter.

It was a tad old fashioned but it did the trick. The flick of a cap and the paper burned to nothing in his hands.

Then the fire alarms went off.

Tang slammed the door to the books room closed so they wouldn’t get damaged by the sprinklers and sprinted for the exit. Gold and Silver followed hot on his heals but couldn’t quite keep up with the five large objects in their arms. Tang dove thought the door but they weren’t going to make it. So Gold dropped what he was carrying grabbed Silver and leapt through the door with a hint of magic.

They barreled into Tang but he barely registered that they were still holding on to a calabash. Instead is focus was on sprinting to the exit.

He burst from the building into a massive panicking crowd of college students rushing about like someone had yelled there would be free food but failed to give directions.

He could use this. He let himself match the frantic paces of the students and let the crowd provide cover to slip through an old hole in the fence towards the dorms. One he’d used many a time as a student late for class. He was pretty sure it had a gap in the security system too, as it had never been fixed. So he slipped through and stepped to the side, throwing off his college sweatshirt and his hat and pulling out his glasses.

Tang walked to a bus stop and took the next bus home. It was an uneventful ride.

  That night the robbery was all over the news. He watched the broadcast while eating noodles at Pigsy’s shop. “While no clear leads have been found. It is suspected that two of the culprits appeared in this photo taken moments after the crime.” Tang looked up to see fuzzy photos of Gold and Silver sprinting into the crowd. “A third accomplish is suspected, but while discarded clothes were found matching the image above, it is unclear if its tied to the case or not as all footage from the heist itself has been replaced with footage of this bird.” A video played of golden bird with magnificent red and green feathers preening in front of a security camera while a loud bang could be heard in the background. “Donors to the archive, including the Long family, have called an investigation of the security …”

Tang smiled smugly to himself. Nothing like a job well done.

[justkending]

Just Roommates. Chapter 27.

Series Summary: These two college friends have had years to grow together. Each being the others support system, adventure buddy, movie night partner, and dorky roommates. That is until things start coming to a new light in their relationship. At least for him… Is there something else there? Is it possible? Were these feelings always there?

Pairing: (Modern) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Fluff, Adulting, sexy-times mentions, language.

Word Count: 2700+

A/N: This is a very simple chapter, but I needed it for the next chapter:) Hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 27:

"That's perfect right there! Thank you!"

Y/N was instructing the movers bringing in the last of their furniture while her and Wanda started unloading items for the kitchen. Steve, Sam, Clint, Wanda, and Vision had all pitched in their cars as ways to help with moving the smaller boxes from their flat. Nat and Maria were going to be there within the next hour.

Bucky was out by the cars with Steve bringing in a few more hauls of the boxes.

"So, when's the engagement party?" Steve asked.

"I honestly think Y/N's just going to count this move in party as the engagement party. She's not one for all the formal events. Which I'm perfectly fine with," Bucky smiled, re-adjusting his grip on the larger box as they walked up the porch.

"Really? How are we supposed to get you two gifts if we didn't know this was the engagement party?" Steve asked.

"Don't act like you guys didn't all bring some housewarming gift. I saw you all casually trying to hide your little gift bags and stuff. Horrible hiding by the way," Bucky chuckled as Steve opened the door for to the two of them.

"Housewarming gifts are different from engagement gift," the blonde countered.

"I guess, but we really don't need anything. We just want to hang out with you guys in our new home. That's enough for us both," Bucky shrugged, putting the boxes down and turning to see Wanda and Y/N laughing in the kitchen.

"You know, Bucky, just a year ago you would be all over the material things. Something I think Bonnie would have played a part in and also been ecstatic for," Steve smiled looking at his friend. "The fact that's not even a thought for you shows how lucky you got Buck. You and Y/N both got lucky."

Bucky couldn't looked away from Y/N. She was in her 'moving overalls' as she called them since apparently she had so many they all had a special purpose. Her hair was in a messy bun with a head scarf wrapped keeping her wayward curls out of her face. Failing at at its job, but still cute nonetheless. One of the overall shoulders wasn't hooked and was hanging off her shoulder. She was laughing and pointing something out to Wanda in the living room.

"I did get lucky. The woman has taught me more things than I cared to know existed. And because of that I'm a lot more content and happy with my life." Bucky sent a single nod and smile after making eye contact with Y/N who blushed and winked back at him. "I'm on a high Steve, and I haven't fell from it in 6+ months."

"I feel you brother," Steve said squeezing Bucky's shoulder.

"You feel me?" Bucky said with a small laugh knowing Steve was as single as could be. "How do you-" When Steve's reaction was just a dopey smile as if he were lost in space, Bucky's eyebrows shot up. "You punk! You're seeing someone and you didn't tell me?!"

"Hey, hey. Quiet!" Steve said, putting his hands out in surrender. "I-I just wanted to see how things would go and didn't want anyone to get their hopes up, but... Yeah... There's a girl."

"Steve, that's amazing!" Bucky said, pulling him into a hug. "How long?"

"Remember Dr. Erskine from your charity gala?" Bucky nodded. "One of his shadows for his work happens to be in the geriatric field, and he mentioned the senior home to her. She came by for a visit to see the home for some research and we kinda hit it off." Steve had a blush creeping up his neck and was rubbing the back of it in nerves.

"Well, what's her name? What was she doing research for? How old is she? Blonde or Brunette? Or maybe redhead-" Bucky started spouting out questions.

"Her name is Margaret, but she goes by Peggy. She does different funding for senior homes and is doing research in veterans history. She's trying to write a book right now about different stories of WWII vets and Vietnam vets. She's just a few years older than me," Steve answered with a laugh. "And brunette. The most beautiful brown hair and brown eyes I've ever seen on a woman..."

Bucky watched as Steve once again drifted into a dream world. He knew how that went considering it happened to him practically every time he thought of Y/N.

"I'm happy for you Stevie. And don't worry, I'll keep it on the down low. I know how important the beginning of a relationship is, and with our friend group, I'm not going to chance ruining that," Bucky laughed half joking, half being serious.

"You can tell Y/N. Just  Y/N though," Steve laughed.

"Ok, good. That was my next question..." Bucky grinned.

"Come on. Let's get you moved in," Steve nudged as they went back outside for another load.

___________

"Y/N, this place is going to be beautiful!" Nat said, raising her glass as the group of friends sat in the living room on the new furniture.

There were boxes scattered everywhere in their designated rooms, some opened but not unpacked. Only things out were some coasters for the end tables, and a few accent pillows that came with the couches today.

"It's true. I saw some of the decorations you have boxed up, and just by the looks of it this place is going to be stunning," Maria nodded, taking a sip of her wine.

"How many bedrooms?" Clinton budded in.

"Four including the master. So enough for you guys to crash if you ever get too drunk to leave," Bucky winked wrapping his arms around Y/N's middle on the chair they were snuggled into.

"Careful to make that offer. I may never leave," Sam laughed with a smirk.

"Everyone but you," Bucky said with a fake glare.

"You see how he treats me, Y/N? So mean and for no reason," Sam fake pouted.

"Oh, quit it you two. Always teasing the other until someone actually gets their feelings hurt," Y/N waved them off. "Sam, you are more than welcome to stay here when you want."

"Thank you," he said in a proud tone as if he won.

"Of course after day 3 there will be a rent fee," Y/N added with a smirk of her own as she took a long sip of her drink.

"Hey!" Sam said, choking on his drink a little.

"That's my girl," Bucky laughed.

"So what did you guys decide on for the flat? Are you going to sell it or..." Wanda asked turning to them from where she was sat by Vis.

"I'm going to rent it out for cheap to some college kids. No point in bumping the price when I don't really need the extra money. I remember how hard it was for people to find affordable housing during that time, and that way I can still keep it. It's already paid off," Bucky answered.

"That's a good idea and sweet of you. College me would have jumped for a place to stay like that for cheap," Nat nodded.

"Y/N thought of it. I was going to sell it, but made better sense to just rent it out," Bucky shrugged.

"Ok, enough boring adult talk! Tell us how it happened!" Maria jumped in.

"Gotta be more specific sis," Y/N laughed.

"The proposal! We've all seen the ring! Now give us the details!"

"Ok, ok. You wanna tell it or me?" Y/N turned to Bucky who just smiled and shrugged.

"We both can, but you start."

"Ok," she smiled before turning to the group. "So we came out here just to set up some lights and see the finished product of the house."

The rest of the story later, the girls were ooing and aweing at the sentiment. The men just grinning and sending smirks to Bucky for the romantic kind of man he apparently had been hiding from them.

After some more catching up, Y/N giving the girls room tours as well as sharing her decor ideas, while Bucky took the guys out and showed them the land and what they planned to build, the crew started packing up.

Bucky and Y/N said goodbye to everyone as they packed into their cars, and waved to them until they were out the driveway and headed back to the city.

Y/N let out a sigh and turned back to the house. Bucky followed and wrapped his arms around her as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"We have a lot of unboxing to do," she said.

"Yep, but we unpacked a lot tonight. Let's save the rest for tomorrow."

"Yeah, ok." She turned back and gave him a hug as she fell into him. "I love you."

"I love you even more Y/N. Let's go to bed."

________

The next night, Bucky got a call from work saying they had a business trip that Stark had set up for the two to travel and speak with a few investors on some new projects. Something that was bound to take place in the merger. It just so happened to come up when the two were moving in and had a shit ton of boxes to unpack.

"How long?" Y/N asked once Bucky got done explaining Starks travel plans, and they unboxed some items for one of the guest rooms.

"Sounds like a couple of weeks. No more than two, hopefully only one," Bucky sighed. "I can see if I can make it shorter. I don't want to leave you to unpack all by yourself, and maybe the investors-"

"What are you talking about?" Y/N laughed, stopping and turning to Bucky from the bedside table she was organizing. "You don't have to make your work shorter just because I need help unpacking some boxes."

"Well, no, but-"

"I know what you're doing B. It's not going to work."

"I'm not doing anything..." Bucky mumbled, looking down at the bed frame he was currently screwing in the last few pieces into place for.

"You don't want to travel with Stark for up to two weeks, and you're using moving as an excuse. Nope. Nuh uh. You're going mister," she said matter a factly as she plugged in the bed side lamp and brushed her hands off.

"And what if I don't want to go cause I don't want to leave you?" Bucky said with a raised eyebrow standing up.

"It's your work Bucky. You're going to have to leave sometimes to take care of business." Her hands were crossed over her chest and hip popped. Bucky places his hands on his hips in an attempt to mock her sass.

"You want me out of the house or something?" he joked.

"No... I've just noticed you've been pushing work to the side, and trying to distract yourself from it and using the house as an excuse."

"I'm not-"

"James Buchanan Barnes. You have a huge, crazy busy, growing, multimillion dollar business to run. You can't keep distancing yourself from it just because you don't like Stark all that much," she said, taking a step closer and Bucky matched her.

He paused. She was right. He had been finding any excuse to work from home, or only going in during times Stark wasn't there. He still was extremely annoyed by the man, and the less time he spent with him the better. On the other hand he had been really excited about living with Y/N and being with her more now that they were engaged. 

Screw knowing each other for years. The man was in the honeymoon phase still, and hadn't even glimpsed outside of the puppy love he had for her.

"But what if I don't want to..." he pouted moving closer and putting his hands on her hips as he pulled her in.

"Sucks. You're the big boss man whether you like it or not," she shrugged, still crossing her arms with a playful gleam in her eyes.

"You're kinda scary. You know that?" Bucky chuckled tilting his head to her.

"When I need to be, yes. That's not new news," she said with a sly smirk. "So on that note. Let's get you packed for your trip."

"But-"

"Nope! No excuses bossman!" she said walking out the door to their room.

_________

Y/N was right. This was a big opportunity for the business, and even though Bucky was getting comfortable spending his time with Y/n in their new house, and as a newly engaged couple, he did need to get out and actually work.

The trip ended up being a week and half. Y/N having to stay behind to handle some housing things like plumbing, gas, land surveying and all that fun stuff. That and she still had her job as a personal trainer/ yoga instructor, so she couldn't just up and leave with only a day's notice for almost two weeks.

The two facetimed and talked every night and day. Y/N showing him new places she had got around to decorating and layouts and ideas for the land.

What Bucky didn't know was that Y/N had the girls over almost every night to help her finish up unpacking and decorating before he came home. Sometimes Steve and Sam too if she needed some more heavy duty help.

"Y/N, this is all so stunning. He's going to be so surprised when he gets home," Nat smiled as they all stood looking at the newly decorated home.

"Really? You think? It's not too much is it?" she questioned bringing her hand to her chin as she examined the room they were currently in.

"He's going to love it Y/N. Anything you do he loves, but this is crazy impressive," Steve added as he packed up his tool box. "You ever thought about interior design?"

"That's what Bucky said," Y/N laughed. "And now that I have so many people asking me that," she looked at Maria, Wanda, and Nat who had also been commenting on it all day, "It's starting to sound like a possible fun side-job."

"Well, I'll pay you to come revamp my apartment if you do anything close to this," Maria grinned, taking a swig from a beer bottle.

"You got it," Y/N laughed. "Ok, I need to go pick him up from the airport in about an hour, so I'm going to go get changed and do a few last minute things. Thanks again you guys for coming out here and helping."

"Anytime! Maria and I love the scenic drive here, and it gives us a chance to see your fucking gorgeous home," Nat smirked bumping her hip with Y/N.

"That and you know you can always call if you need a handy man when Bucks not here," Steve added, picking up the tool box.

"Thanks for that Stevie. I appreciate you," she said giving him a small peck on the cheek.

"Yeah, I'm just here for the free alcohol," Wanda teased as she downed the rest of her beer. "Helps when Nat's driving."

The crew laughed at the red head and started heading for the door.

"Let us know what he thinks! And when you guys are ready, we can have a housewarming party since it's all done!" Nat shouted as she walked to the car.

"Will do! Love you guys! Drive safe!" Y/N shouted and waved from the porch as they loaded up and made their way down the long driveway.

Once they were out of sight, Y/N turned to look at the finished product of their home. The lights on the porch were hung and turned on. The inside was lit up and bringing life and a sense of comfort to it.

"How did I get so lucky?" Y/N sighed as she thought about the life that was to come with her special person. All she had to do was pick him up from the airport, and yet another milestone would be made.

(Ok pictures are coming next chapter!) 

Just Roommates:

@starfirerules​ @buckys-blunders​ @alexxcorona113​ @tcc-gizmachine​ @vrgelivvvv​ @nighttwingg​ @firefly-in-darkness​ @mizzzpink​ @poppunkdork​ @nerdygirlwithacrush​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​ @ellaenchanted91​ @sebbbystaaan​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @zeilenkrieg​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravic​ @traceyaudette​ @kakakatey​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @snffbeebee​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @marvelfansworld​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​ @naomi02hook​ @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​​ @gh0stgurl​​ @cs-please​​ @carls1022​​ @jjlevin​​ @rainbowkisses31​​ @carls1022​​ @anise-d-castle6​​ @deannotmoose​​ @their-bibliophile​​ @kitkatd7​

[anon-e-miss]

I started daydreaming on my walk about Prowl adopting this abandoned mecha-puppy. The pup is very weak and hurt, but feels imminently safe in Prowls servos. The rest of the bots are perplexed by seeing their stand off-is SIC carry around this wiggly pupper. x) But Jazz is just smitten, and bonds with the floofer as well. Which in turn makes Prowl fall in love with him too. <3

The poor mutt was pockmarked with rusted wounds. It was clear he had been badly neglected and for some time a that. It had been a decavorn since Praxus had been destroyed, and Prowl had not expected to find anything alive in the crater. Certainly not a mongrel like this. Just what had he been fuelling on for all this time? There were no settlement anywhere near the crater. What remained of Praxus was little more than their shattered sewage systems. It was riddled with toxins. No one approved of Prowl’s regular pilgrimage to the site, not that he bothered to ask for permission.

As Prowl approached, crooning softly, the cyber-puppy quivered. He tucked his tail between his legs and dropped his helm, whining quietly. Prowl knelt as he got within arms reach and held his servo out to the sickly cyber-puppy. Though he trembled, the pup licked Prowl’s servo and started to wag his tail.

“I bet you have not fuelled in some time,” Prowl said as he gently stroked the pup’s helm. He had a rust infection, at least, and worn pads on his paws. That was no matter, it could all be mended. He took a ration from his subspace and opened it. “Here you are. It is only mid-grade so it should not upset your systems.”

Clearly the pup was starved, he lap every drop from the cube in a matter of nanokliks. It would do no good to give the poor cyper-puppy re-fuelling syndrome so Prowl resisted the beast’s plaintive whine and did not give him any more. He lifted the pup up and cradled him to his chassis. The beast did not resist at all but licked Prowl’s face with unbridled enthusiasm. Alone in the ruins of his city, Prowl dared chuckle.

“Ratchet will be able to put you to rights. I suppose I will half to designate you... I will have to think about it. I have not had a cyber-dog since I was a mechling.

Ratchet had been prepared for Prowl to return with some worrying contamination. He had not been prepared for Prowl to return with a pet. All the same, the medic did not grouse that he was not a vet, but rather took charge of the wiggly pup. Once the rust was cleaned up, the and his wounds sealed the pup came absolutely alive. When Ratchet set him down on the floor the pup took one great leap, right into Prowl’s arms and joyfully licked his face.

“Maybe he’ll remind you to fuel yourself,” Ratchet said. “He could be good for you.”

“Thank you Ratchet.”

The pup’s paws were still tender and Prowl carried him out to the courtyard so he could do his... business as it were. The smooth terrain excited the cyber-puppy and he spun around in circles before running off to sniff the nearest trees. Prowl scolded the pup gently as he went wild. Typical of a puppy, he had no care for his limitations. Prowl lifted him up to examine his paws. His freshly healed pads did not appear to have suffered any ill affects. The pup licked his face, once again, and Prowl stroked his helm.

He was not oblivious, he knew Bots were watching but he simply pretended they were not there. As soon as Prowl put the pup down again, he was bounding around barking with joy and sniffing at everything, and everyone. So overcome with excitement, he chased his tail around and around until he caught it. He stop and stared up at Prowl as if to ask: what do I do now?

“You don’t have two bits to rub together, do you?” Prowl said. “I am going to call you Two  Bit... Wait!”

He bound off again and lunged at the newcomer, music pumping from speakers located at his hips. Two Bit howled in time with the beat. Oh Primus that was going to get old very quickly. Prowl walked up and tried to draw Two Bit away from Jazz. Of course as soon as he scooped the pup up, he was licking at his face again.

“Got yerself a cyber-dog, Prowl?” Jazz asked.

“I found him in Praxus.”

“I ‘spose he must o’ been waitin’ for ya.”

“That is an interesting thought,” Prowl replied. “I hope he did not scuff you paint. I will need to train him.”

“It don’t matter. I don’t suppose ya’d like a helpin’ servo? Trainin’m I mean.”

“If you are offering. I have not had a pet since I was a mechling.”

“‘M game.”

***

“Two Bit, where ‘m I ‘spose to recharge?” Jazz asked.

“On the floor,” Prowl replied, a little drowsy. He had not expected Jazz to be back from his mission yet. “Or perhaps in his berth.”

“Ha. Who’d o’ thought something so little would get this big?”

Two Bit had grown into a hulking beast of a cyber-dog. His helm reached Prowl’s shoulder. It was difficult to keep treats out of his reach. Thankfully he had not figured out how to open the upper cabinets but Prowl figured it was only a matter of time. He nudged the cyber-dog. Two Bit whined and grumbled but he got up and begrudgingly lumbered down to the end of the berth.

“That’s right Bit, if ya don’t wanna get banished, you gotta stick to YER spot.”

“Perhaps you could lure him to his berth with a treat.”

“Oh?”

“I would like to welcome you back... properly.”

“I’ll give’m the whole canister!”

[searchingwardrobes]

Start of Time: 9/9

Here it is! The end of this journey! This has always been a gift for @teamhook​, and my dear, I hope this ending brightens your day after all you have been through! I always knew this was where it would lead, with these exact bits of dialogue inspired by the song by Gabrielle Aplin that you shared with me. I even incorporated some lines from the song into the closing scene for you. Sending you lots of love, my friend!

Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook​​​ on her birthday.

Rating: T

Trigger warning: Alice Jones appears in this fic and Alice and Henry are both Killian’s adopted children with Milah. Henry isn’t Emma’s. Positive past Millian. No Neal.

Words: about 3k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  @snowbellewells​​​ @kmomof4​​​@jennjenn615​​​ @kday426​​​ @let-it-raines​​​ @bethacaciakay​​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​​ @thislassishooked​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​@whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​ @snidgetsafan​​​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​ @distant-rose​​@shireness-says​​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​​ @optomisticgirl​​​​ @spartanguard​​​​ @branlovestowrite​​​​ @welllpthisishappening​​​​ @stahlop​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​ @scientificapricot​​​ @wellhellotragic​​​ @vvbooklady1256​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​ @superchocovian​​​ @nikkiemms​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​  @ultraluckycatnd​​​ @ohmakemeahercules​

It was awkwardly silent in the elevator. Honestly, it had been awkwardly silent the majority of the time between her and Walsh ever since she got home. Yet it seemed to hang even heavier between them since the doctor’s appointment earlier.

The elevator stopped at her floor, and the ding when the doors opened only punctuated the silence. Emma dug in her purse for her keys, and wished like every other time Walsh rode up with her how to politely send him away. He hadn’t pushed her for anything physical - mostly. He just whined like an oversized baby about it, constantly asking her when things would get back to normal.

In that sense, today’s appointment was almost a relief.

“Well, thanks for walking me up,” Emma told him as she grasped her keys.

Walsh gave her a smile that he must have thought was charming. It wasn’t.

“Come on now, Emma, you can’t let your fiance in for a few minutes?”

She pressed her hand firmly to his chest as he leaned in. “You’re not my fiance.”

“Of course I am. You just don’t remember.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, first of all, you heard the doctor today. Chances are, I won’t ever remember.”

“Chances is the word. You heard him, there’s always a chance. Especially if I jog your memory.”

He went to put his arms around her, and for the first time, Emma had to shove him off. It sent her heart beating erratically, and not in a pleasant way. It also sent anger flaring through her veins.

“God, do you even listen to me?” she shouted. She had tried so hard since she got back to New York to cooperate, hoping that following the lead of Walsh and Regina would bring her memories rushing back. Now she was sick of it.

“Actually I do,” Walsh snapped, “which is why I know you aren’t even trying to remember.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You act like I’m doing this on purpose. And no, you don’t listen, because I wasn’t finished. Second, I don’t have a ring, Walsh.” Emma waved her hand in front of him.

“People don’t need a ring to get engaged.”

“I also listened to your message,” she bit out. “You proposed, but I never accepted. You may not need a ring, genius, but the girl has to actually say yes.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Well, I am now.”

Walsh blinked. “Emma, seriously, this isn’t you.”

“No Walsh, it is me! Maybe this whole experience has changed me, maybe I’ll never fully remember who I was before, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have always been hesitant to marry you.” Emma pressed her fist, still clutching her keys, to her chest. “I know you and Regina keep treating me like a wounded puppy, but I do remember some things clearly. I was getting away to Maine because I was stressed and confused. I was unsure of so many things, including us.”

Walsh’s face fell, as if he were finally beginning to understand. “But I thought we were so good together.”

Emma was able to smile at him. She stepped closer, and laid a hand on his arm. “You were comfortable - safe. Being with you didn’t risk my heart because my feelings were on the surface. Your proposal brought all of that into focus.”

“So what you’re saying is, you were always going to say no.”

Emma nodded, truly feeling sorry for Walsh for the first time. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember our first date or how we met, but I do remember that.”

Walsh nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping. He gave her a platonic hug, and Emma accepted it. Then he walked away from her, and when the elevator doors closed behind him, Emma sagged with relief against her door.

The phone in her jacket pocket vibrated, and she pulled it out to see text messages from her bandmates pop up one after another.

How did the appointment go? - Elsa

Did the doctor have good news? Are you getting your memories back? I’m dying with worry here! - Anna

Calling to check on you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but have you dumped Walsh yet? - Ruby

I wanna hear more about this hot vet you were snowed in with. And don’t tell me he wasn’t hot, I can read between the lines. - Ruby

Emma smiled as she scrolled through the messages. It was strange the way a brain injury worked. The moment she walked through her front door and saw her three best friends waiting for her, memories had flooded her. She didn’t remember anything but confusing feelings where Walsh was concerned, she couldn’t remember this supposed solo career Regina kept going on about, but she did remember these three amazing women. She couldn’t remember performing, but memories had returned of the times they spent together both on the road and before they hit it big. She also remembered the words to every single one of their songs. The doctor had explained to her that the brain was a complex organ. His theory was that she had retained her emotional memories, but not the details of her life.

Bizarre didn’t begin to cover it.

Emma locked the door behind her, toed off her shoes, and dropped her keys in the catch all by the door. She collapsed onto a couch that was too hard in a room that was too cold. The view of the city skyline outside her window seemed foreign. With a sigh, she moved to her bedroom, shooting off texts to her friends as she went. She slipped into a pair of comfortable pajamas, collapsed onto her bed, and grabbed the tv remote.

This was apparently her life, and she simply had no idea what to do with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Checkmate!” Liam crowed with satisfaction, but his face fell when he looked across the chess board to find Killian staring absently at the chess pieces. “Little brother? I beat you. Again.”

Killian sighed and knocked over some of the pieces in frustration. “Sorry. I guess I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

Liam frowned. “This is still about Wendy, isn’t it?”

“Emma,” Killian corrected him as he ran a hand wearily down his face, “her name is actually Emma. Emma Swan.” His hand dropped to his lap, and he studied his brother warily. “And please spare me the I told you so.”

Liam leaned back, both hands lifted in the air in surrender. “I’m not going to say that, trust me. This is a situation where I hate being right.”

Killian arched a brow. “My brother? Hates being right? Who are you and what have you done to my real brother?”

“Haha, very funny. Seriously though, I liked her. I liked how happy you were when she was here. If the situation had been different -”

Killian cut him off. “But it wasn’t. She has a life, a career, a fiance somewhere else. God, I was such a fool.”

“No, you weren’t. You were generous in offering your home to her. I was wrong, Killian. You did the right thing. I can’t believe I was so callous towards her.”

Killian drummed his fingers on the table as he regarded Liam. “You never seem to realize what an ass you’re being to the women in my life until it’s too late.”

Liam leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his fisted hands. “With Milah, you’re right. When you adopted Henry, I still gave her hell. I worried a child was just another novelty to her. But then she was such a wonderful mother, then you got Alice, and . . . .”

Liam trailed off with a long sigh. Killian’s brow furrowed in shock.

“I thought you didn’t soften towards her until she got sick. Why didn’t you say anything? Try to mend things with her?”

“You know how bloody stubborn I am. I’m sorry, Killian, I would do it all differently if I had the chance.”

“I know.” Killian could never stay angry at his brother for long. He loved him too much.

“Besides, who says it's too late with Wendy - I mean Emma. She may be missing you just as much as you’re missing her.”

Killian absentmindedly picked up a pawn and twirled it between his fingers. “Doubtful. She’s a bloody rock star, for God’s sake.”

“The kids miss her too, don’t they?” “Aye.”

“She said she’d keep in touch.”

“People always say that. Then they never do.”

“Give her time. None of this can be easy.”

Killian was about to counter that Emma had no reason to think of them now that her memories had most likely returned, but before he could, there was a knock at the door. He gave his brother a confused look. It was late, and the kids were already asleep. Who could possibly be knocking? He hurried to the door, looked through the keyhole, then swore under his breath to find the view blocked by greenery. Alice had made a wreath for the door, and he couldn’t see a damn thing past her handiwork. He wrenched the door open, expecting it to be a local farmer with a livestock emergency.

It wasn’t a farmer.

“Emma,” he breathed in awe.

She smiled, and it was like the sun came out.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you call me that.”

Killian chuckled as he scratched behind his ear. “Well, I’m a bit embarrassed that I didn’t

recognize you. Let’s just say it’s mostly Radio Disney around here. And something about K-Pop which I don’t really -”

“I was never engaged,” Emma blurted out.

“Oh?”

Emma twisted her hands nervously and shrugged. “He proposed, but I never accepted.” She trailed off, her gaze darting to her feet. “It felt important for you to know that.”

“There’s no need to explain,” he told her gently. “I’m just glad you’re getting your memories back.”

“I’m not,” she said, her gaze flying back to lock on his.

“What do you mean?”

She bit on her lower lip. “I mean, I don’t have my memories back. I remember bits and pieces, feelings mostly.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Look, there’s something I just gotta say, alright?”

Killian nodded. He’d been sort of speechless anyway since he opened the door.

She licked her lips nervously before plunging in. “The doctors say I might never get my memories back. Not all of them, anyway. But I’m okay with that because what little I remember either isn’t that great or it’s fantastic.” She winced as she closed her eyes for a second. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, “but I’m still listening.”

She returned his smile with a wobbly one of her own. “Right. So, I remember that I was a foster kid. I must have been since I was a baby because that’s all I remember. I don’t remember any of the places I lived or who I lived with. All I remember is that I never had a home.”

His heart broke for her and the sheen of tears in her eyes, but he didn't interrupt.

“I remember I ran away all the time. I just figured that when you really have a home, when you leave, you just miss it. So my whole childhood, I just kept running waiting to feel that, but I never did. Then I found my band. And I got to keep running, on the road you know? But it was okay because my family was running with me. I think that’s why they’re the only people I remember. Except -”

She paused, and a look of fear flashed over her face. He took a step closer and took her hand. “Except?” he prompted.

“Except you. And the kids.” She winced again, shaking her head and laughing. “Not that I wouldn’t remember you, I mean I met you after. What I’m trying to say is . . . I miss you. When I left here, I missed it all so much. My band - the people in it - were home, but that was ending. And then I met you - and Alice and Henry. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s like my life got a reset that day you found me. I want to start time, right here. With you.”

Killian searched her face, scarcely daring to believe this was real. He reached up with a shaking hand and traced her jaw with his finger.

“What about your career?” he asked softly. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage of her while she was in a vulnerable place.

She smiled at him as a single tear slipped down her face. “I never wanted that career. I loved the band - the people, I mean. But not the performing or the limelight. I just want to play and write songs on my guitar. I can do that anywhere.”

He let hope expand his heart for the first time. He cupped her face with both hands, catching her tear with his thumb.

“Stay with me?” he asked her.

Emma’s eyes crinkled at the force of her smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Killian bent slowly to press his lips to hers in a tender kiss. She sighed and tilted her head, allowing him more access. He threaded his fingers through her soft hair as his tongue lazily explored her mouth. Emma pulled back and smiled with such blinding happiness, he could hardly take it in. Then her eyes fluttered closed, and she captured his lips again. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He never wanted to let her go.

I'm an atom in a sea of nothing, looking for another to combine. Maybe we could be the start of something. Be together at the start of time.

Rolling Stone Magazine - Two Years Later:

. . . The Grammy’s this year brought one big surprise: Emma Swan Jones, former member of the female rock band Wendy Sewed it On, took home the Song of the Year award for penning Ruby Lucas’s number one smash hit “The Song in Your Heart.” The romantic power ballad was a slight departure for the normally angst-filled alternative rock Swan-Jones was known for when she was part of Wendy Sewed it On. Yet her new hyphenated last name along with her acceptance speech may give her fans a hint for the change. In her speech, she thanked “my true love, my husband Killian. Words can’t say enough how much you mean to me or how you’ve inspired me. I wouldn’t have this award without you, babe.” Judging by the baby bump she was proudly showing off beneath her Elie Saab couture gown on the red carpet, Emma Swan Jones is very happy with her man which may mean more romantic ballads from her in the future . . .

[asterekmess]

S3A - E7

So, I’m starting this episode right after finishing the last one, and I’m still kinda riled up from that bullshit. Let’s get to pissing me off and breaking my heart then. Blood/gore mention warnings for this episode.

Exercise your eyes! Read More!

Let’s just jump right in:

Starting right off with forcing myself into putting the tag in. Scott literally just listened to his mother say that giving this woman something to lessen the pain of her injuries could complicate things and make it harder to treat her. This is like an important medical thing. While yes, it’s really upsetting that she would need to keep being in pain, she needs to be able to identify and explain what exactly she’s feeling to the doctor who is going to be arrive really soon (though I have no idea why the nurses aren’t able to get these people set up. That’s what they did with me? I didn’t see a doctor for like an hour, but they didn’t make me sit in the fucking waiting room before dealing with the blood.) Her pain level will have a direct effect on how quickly she’s seen. This moment is meant to show Scott being soft-hearted, but with the doctor only ten minutes away, he could literally be making this woman’s life a whole lot worse by taking away her pain right now. There is a reason why after I was given pain killers for my surgery I wasn’t allowed to be near any heavy objects. Her pain is keeping her from irritating her wound. She could fuck herself up if she stops responding to the signals her body is trying to send her. This is not the right way to make Scott look kind. He looks like an idiot who doesn’t even listen to his nurse mom.

WHo the FUCK would keep driving with a bunch of bugs in the car? She’s not even on the interstate! PULL OVER IDIOT.

I’m actually agreeing with Scott on this one. I have no idea how medically accurate what melissa just did was, but it look pretty damn cool.

WHat the hell is this conversation? First off, Ethan, you made VERY clear in the last episode that you want to bite Danny even after he said no. Even if that was the possession talking, it was based on what YOU wanted. Danny’s not safe with you. Second, what is this bullshit about knowing Lydia is the important one? Important to Stiles and ALlison maybe. Scott literally never talks to Lydia. THIRD how exactly did you guys come up with that idea when you went after them on the FIRST DAY? You sniff him on them? cus’ if so your noses are damaged.

what...what is with this ghost car shit? She was in the middle of the city, more than ten minutes away from the hospital and behind the traffic caused by the ten car pileup. How did the car drive itself ALL THE WAY here?

Ethan. you’re an alpha. you have night vision. You shouldn’t need to ask what the fucking MOTH in the middle of the driver’s seat is.

HI NOAH! I’ll be honest. I missed you. You’re a really good actor and you just make me feel all safe. WHich is weird bc I hate father figures and I hate cops. Linden Ashby is just too good, I guess.

It’s so frustrating watching Deucalion walk around with humans pretending to be blind. Because he is. He is Pretending to be blind. He’s already proved like a dozen times that he can see just fine when he turns on the Alpha eyes. Which doesn’t make SENSE because Deaton said his iris’ were permanently damaged. He doesn’t have two different sets of eyes! And it sucks, bc they put in these little things that it would’ve been awesome to see if they included an actual blind person properly. The casual use of the cane, taking someone’s elbow and the trust that implies, and even this. Having (that looks like ethan’s coat) Ethan explain what’s in front of Deucalion, describing the scene to him.

DEREK YOUR SECURITY SYSTEM SUCKS. HOW DID THEY DO THAT WITHOUT YOU WAKING UP? WITHOUT CORA NOTICING?

Also, Cora, you look amazing, can you please be my friend and can I hug you? I love your shirt.

I HATE THIS BITCH. Fuck you Julia.

uhh....why is an English teacher filling in for a chemistry/geometry teacher? That’s not how substitutes work. Making a joke out of it doesn’t make it make any more sense. SHe shouldn’t be doing that, especially if Harris has been missing for a while.

So your office can keep werewolves out, but not darach? Okay, let me go full conspiracy theorist here. we only know Deaton saw the moths because we see it. He just tells Scott that he’s going to be taken. This is a story that Scott is telling, so he couldn’t know that deaton saw the moths unless deaton told him. Julia is currently teaching a class. Are you seriously saying she doesn’t need to be involved at all in order to do these kidnappings? She can just put them on a timer and let the autmoatic spellwork do the job for her? OR Is deaton lying about being taken, and this is just a test he came up with to force Scott’s “True Alpha”ness to the surface? JUlia clearly had other plans for her sacrifice. I don’t think Deaton was a ‘distraction’ to keep Scott from finding the actual sacrifice. I think it was Deaton using the situation to his advantage.

why does deaton have a canine acupressure chart on his wall? I’ve never seen a vet’s office have that. Does he do alternative medicine for dogs??

BOYD. ISAAC. MY BOYS. I can’t tell you how much I love this. It’s so sneaky and annoying and so pack-ish I just love it so much.

BOYD YOU ARE A GENIUS BOY AND I LOVE YOU.

I swear, like ninety percent of what the ‘adults’ in this show say is ‘go back to school.’ ‘shouldn’t you be in school’ yadda yadda. Like, they want so badly to write the teens as though they never have to go to class, so they just make them constantly skip and ignore that these are fucking teenagers who would never be able to get out of school that easily, and they handwave it with someone occasionally going ‘hmm, weird that they aren’t in school’ and then just ignoring it? Truancy is like a THING that you can get in major trouble for. At least Boyd and Isaac called in sick. You know how you could have avoided all this class bullshit? PUT THE FUCKING SEASON DURING THE SUMMERTIME DUMBASSES.

It just hurts seeing Stiles beg for Scott not to make him tell his dad, and then turn right around and admit that it’s not okay for him to let other people suffer just because it scares him that he might lose his only parent. Like, he walks into that sacrifice with eyes wide fucking open and it hurts.

I’m not talking about these dumb sex scenes anymore. I’m so tired of them.

OKay, can we talk about the fire alarm thing though? It sounds like a jokey kind of thing with Aiden teasing Lydia about wanting to leave during the fire alarm but... Remember how Lydia was haunted by Peter’s burnt corpse? How she can hear the cries of the dead, and how she went wandering into the crumbling remains of the Hale house? There’s every chance that Lydia remembers the fire through Peter’s eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was forever freaked by fire alarms.

Man, Cora and Lydia, together? The sass involved? If I didn’t ship Allydia so hard, I’d totally ship Cora and Lydia.

ONce again, I wanna point out that AIDEN IS A MURDERER. Literally all it would take is someone Explaining to Lydia that he is serial killer and she’d never touch him again.

Cora and Stiles together? I’m loving it. I just, wanna point out that when Scott showed up Cora couldn’t have given less of a shit. But here....Cora doesn’t remotely question Stiles’ authority here. She immediately goes along with it and when he tells her to let go of Cora she does. Even though she has no real reason to. When she asks about the spirit board, it’s a legit question and she doesn’t argue or make fun.

PLus there’s the whole ‘Well do you know any spirits” which straight up just confirms for me that ghosts and shit are real in this universe. I trust the Hales as lore sources and Cora’s matter-of-fact tone is good enough for me.

jesus christ i wanna get deucalion and Peter in a room together and watch them just...monologue random facts and trivia at each other endlessly. “Lacrosse was originally played by Native Americans.” “Do you know what a metronome is?” Guys. come on.

Exasperated Stiles is literally my favorite Stiles. “We’re trying to save lives here for the love of god” “YOU”RE SOMETHING, OKay? JUST put out your Hand” It’s so fucking good.

Someone EXPLAIN TO ME how Scott learned to do fucking gymnastics. WHEN DID HE LEARN THIS? I hate this bullshit “I’m a werewolf, so I can do anything” shit. Especially since it’s LITERALLY just Scott they let do it. Everyone else has to actually do the work to learn it.

So...how exactly does Deucalion know where Deaton is? This literally just supports my theory that Deaton set the whole thing up.

ALSO, since I already have the tag I feel no shame in pointing out that Scott didn’t even HESITATE when he learned Derek was going to die. He immediately asked about Deaton. Yeah yeah, Deaton is a father figure to him, but if that’s an acceptable excuse for Scott to use now, then it should count as an acceptable one when it’s STILES” FATHER BEING THREATENED (but I digress, we’re not there yet.)

How did I never notice that Lydia’s Left handed?

andd.....how did Lydia know that? How did Scott know that? What did Deucalion say that even remotely hints at Danny? Scott doesn’t know about Danny’s paper...what?

Fuck yeah, vengeful Boyd. I dig it.

uh....why couldn’t allison just stand next to Scott in the closet. you know, like she did while he was getting in? Also, why was Allison hiding with him anyway? It’s HER HOUSE and HER BEDROOM.

um....okay, i know that we all like the sterek fics where they have to hide in the closet and one of them pops a boner...but I’mma be real, it’s a lot more uncomfortable when I know she broke up with Scott and they’ve been in there for like ten seconds. Plus there’s the whole knowing that she DEFINITELY has enough room to move away and so does he. *shrug*

Side note: Allison where the fuck do you get these clothes? THey’re both awesome and...kinda weird? Did you buy that dress in france?

okay, i’ll admit it, i do actually kinda like the camera angle through the map, with the blacklight lighting up the symbols (though the symbols flash on and off a little too fast). It’s kinda cool.

uh, how would taking the picture help? You don’t have the blacklight over it? None of the markings are visible anymore

why does Chris keep walking in and out? AND WHY DIDN”T ALLISON DO THAT THE FIRST TIME?

Stiles in plaid and Converse? Yes. Yes. please. That’s so my aesthetic I’m so fucking jealous. He looks COMFY.

This whole interaction is just so fucking weird XD

But like, why would Stiles know to go through Danny’s stuff instead of just asking him why he might’ve been targeted??

HOW WOULD THEY KNOW TO CUT THE POWER? THIS DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Why does the ALpha pack keep showing up with way more information than they should have? It’s so annoying! It’s one thing if Morrell is feeding them information, but she wouldn’t have KNOWN about this! This was a good plan and there’s NO REASON the Alphas should’ve known what Boyd, Isaac, and Derek were doing! What the fuck?

....god i love Derek’s red eyes.

....god i hate that I know where this is going.

....god i wish he’d just let them tear her apart.

I know that it’s meant to be setting up the cora/stiles thing, but I love that she doesn’t hesitate to touch him, and that when she stops him it’s with a very quiet “stop.” She’s really gentle with him, which is just fucking nice. Werewolves taking care to be gentle with Stiles is like...nice.

Since when did Scott know about the plan with Boyd and Isaac? Since when did Stiles know? Is Boyd seriously texting Cora while Derek and Kali are fighting, or did he text her as soon as the power was cut?

is this the first time we see a werewolf bounce off the mountain ash? I mean, I think so, but we also see Peter in S1 try to get past some. There’s no glowing when he comes into contact with the shield. It’s the same with Isaac and Erica in s2. I mean...I guess they’re just trying to upgrade the ash stuff? I gotta say though, I kinda prefered when there were no special effects. It seemed cooler when literally the only thing making it work was belief and having this totally invisible barrier that Peter couldn’t cross. It was cool.

....i think i’m procrastinating seeing the end of this fight. I’m gonna fucking cry.

Why...why does Isaac turn and yell ‘wait’ to Boyd when he was the one running forward to Julia? I am confusion.

Dude, if Alphas could break through mountain ash barriers then Talia Hale WOULDN”T HAVE DIED. THE HALE PACK WOULDn’T HAVE DIED.

I wanna point out here, that this fight between Derek and Kali makes sense for once. Him losing makes sense. We know that the Alphas are much older than they look, or at least Kali, Deucalion and Ennis were. Aiden and Ethan don’t show up in that flashback. ANyway, Kali’s probably in her thirties or forties. SHe’s much older than Derek and she’s been fighting for a lot longer, not to mention fighting to kill.

Seriously, someone get my boy a quarterstaff to knock her feet away.

I really really don’t understand this stuff. Why is it whenever people (I mean Derek, because it’s literally always Derek) get forced to use their werewolf claws/teeth (because again I cannot believe this is happening more than once) he for some reason can’t just...shift back? Retract his claws and fangs? Derek has amazing control, he should totally have been able to do it. With the venom it made sense, he was paralyzed. But now??

What exactly was the fucking point of having Scott break the mountain ash barrier, just to have the sheriff show up and shoot Deaton down? That was literally useless.

also, Noah is an amazing shot. Hot damn.

ALSO. LIterally all this info about true alphas is being whispered to Scott when he’s all alone? How the fuck am i supposed to trust that deaton even ever said that shit to Scott? He could totally be lying about it.

WHAT KIND OF TOTAL BULLSHIT BACKWARDS ASS PLOTLINE IS THIS? After half the season being about Deucalion attacking Derek and trying to get him into the pack, suddenly “Deucalion isn’t after Derek, he’s after you” WHAT? THat’s the STUPIDEST LAZIEST SHIT I’VE EVER SEEN.

and to end my rant BOYD SHOULD NOT HAVE DIED. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? PETER STUCK HIS ENTIRE HAND THROUGH DEREK”S CHEST IN SEASON 1 WHIL IN HIS ALPHA FORM AND THREW HIM INTO A WALL AND DEREK SURVIVED JUST FINE. WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE???

Final Thoughts: No. No, no, no no, no, and no. The ‘plotline’ of this episode is literally like fifteen things that have nothing to do with each other.

Admittedly, there were a few nice moments. Cora, Lydia, and Stiles was an awesome trio. Boyd, Isaac, and Derek was an awesome trio. The sheriff? Amazing. Melissa? A fucking hero. Danny, a genius saint.

All in all, I’m going to tear this episode to shreds in order to rewrite it. Get fucked, Davis.

[glacecakes]

Alchemy Lullaby (6/?)

Chapter 6: Varian makes a friend! Too bad it's not human. Meanwhile, Rapunzel and Eugene have a mini crisis.

Sorry for the delay! I wanted this chapter done a few days ago but my cat is very sick atm. She has a vet appt in 7 hours, hopefully we'll get her back to normal! She's not dying just a nasty infection. tbh I'm not majorly thrilled with this chapter but whatever it's cute it's harmless. Warning Varian is feral and eats a worm

Read the rest here 

The palace gardens sprawled out, carpeting the world with green. Small feet raced across bristles of grass, pale skin contrasting the dirt that was quickly sticking to his toes. Varian giggled at the sensation, marveling in it. It was so different from the dirt lining Corona’s roads. He didn’t have to worry about dust kicked up by horses or sharp trash. 

The six months on the street left Varian more mature than his fellow kids, though Varian thought he was just born smart like that. He hopped around, happily examining everything he could, from the way the grass blades danced to a small ladybug crawling across a leaf. His eyes sparkled with a childlike wonder as he explored.

The ladybug flew around him, circling to land. Varian followed it in rapid circles. He spun around and around until he was too dizzy, and fell to the grass giggling. He seized the opportunity. Being closer to the ground meant new things to discover! He crawled along until he reached the flower bed. Small buck teeth stuck out of his grin, face flush with delight as a butterfly landed on the morning glories. But wait, what was that wiggling? Ooooh….

From atop the castle porch, his father sat with his girlfriend and family. “He’s getting more and more adventurous everyday. It’s…. Both great and terrible?” He ran a hand through slightly messy hair. His legs hadn’t ached this much since his thieving days. 

The king hummed in agreement, narrowing his eyes at where Varian played. He’d invited both of them to tea, but the smaller chair sat long abandoned. “Yes, he is certainly… spunky.”

Rapunzel snorted into her cup. Her mother elbowed her in the sides. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Eugene continued, not noticing the women. “I adore him, I love him! But he drives me crazy sometimes. Like, the other day. He flipped out because I didn’t cut up his grapes. Grapes! I say ok, I’ll cut your grapes in half. He flips out at that too.” It had certainly been a sight, Varian screaming like he’d been stabbed, wailing on the floor while Eugene sat there and let him cry it out. 

“Children have a hard time comparing emotions and memories,” Arianna placed a soothing hand on Eugene’s shoulder. “They think the simplest upset is the worst thing that’s ever happened to them.”

Eugene gave her a blank stare. “I know the worst thing that happened to him.”

“Which one, the abandonment or the kidnapping?” Rapunzel muttered into her tea. Arianna elbowed her harder, and the princess coughed up some tea. 

“My point is,” Arianna paid no heed to her daughter slowly dying. “Varian is still very young, it’s going to get easier.”

“Eugene!”

The man in question turned to see Varian racing towards him. One hand tucked into his pocket, holding his treasure close. The other stretched out to grab his dad’s hand. “Eugene! I got you somethin’!”

The man in question placed a hand over his heart delicately. “For moi? Oh, kid, you shouldn’t have!” Varian dug his toes into the pavement with a blush. “But uh… what is it?” A flower, perhaps? If that was the case he might actually melt.

The child pulled his hand out of his pocket and placed a crumbling pile of dirt into his hand. And atop the dirt was… worms. 

So many worms. 

Like, did the kid dig up every worm he could find? 

“...Thanks….?” Eugene managed, trying not to drop the whole pile in disgust. He couldn’t break the kid’s heart like that! He trusted Eugene enough to share his interests! 

“I saw you were all having snacks, so I brought some!” Varian chirped. “See?” He grabbed one from the pile and before Eugene could scream, placed it in his mouth.

Frederick nearly gagged, while Rapunzel couldn’t hold in her laughter any longer. She laughed harder when she saw Eugene’s horror-stricken face. Her boyfriend’s eyes were bulging out of his sockets, one twitching slightly, mouth slack in pure shock and agony. 

Finally he snapped out of his trance, leaping forward to pry his mouth open. Instead of standing still and letting him, like a good boy, Varian shrieked and raced back into the gardens. The kid was fast, too. He’d mastered evasion on the streets, so Eugene was really no challenge. Especially when there were trees to climb into and bushes to hide in! Choosing the later, Varian ducked into a small brush. He covered his mouth. 

“Varian, come on! Worms aren’t for people, they’re for animals, like birds, and raccoons…!” 

Speaking of the latter, soft chittering filled Varian’s ears. He turned around and came face to face with a raccoon. 

He’d seen some before, and even joined a few in scavenging through city trash. But this one was tiny! It’s fair fur was bristled and puffed up, the creature backed up into the bush’s branches. Varian scooted forward, and it skittered in fear.

“It’s ok, I’m hiding too!” Varian whispered through a mouth of worm. Wait! Eugene said raccoons eat worms, right? He spit it out. The poor creature wiggled weakly in his palm as he held it out. One sniff, two, and then the raccoon ate the treat. Its whiskers tickled the child’s palms, and it licked the hand when there was nothing left. Varian broke into giggles. “It tickles!” Slowly, like he saw older kids play with their pets, he reached out his other hand and ran it through soft fur. The animal nuzzled into the touch.

“I’m Varian,” He grinned toothily. “I’m four and a half! You’re a baby, like me, right?” The raccoon glanced up, its beady eyes staring deep into Varian’s. 

The child opened his mouth to speak more, only for large hands to yoink him out of the bush. 

Eugene stared down disapprovingly. “Young man, we have snacks right here! Why on earth do you need to eat worms!?” 

Varian didn’t seem guilty in the slightest. “It’s like spaghetti!” 

“Wha- I- It is definitely not like spaghetti!” Eugene ran a frazzled hand through his hair. He glanced back at the table, silently motioning his eyes between Rapunzel and Varian in a clear plea for help. The princess shrugged. 

Well, he could explain to Varian why it was bad to eat worms later. One thing at a time. “Come on, Varian, let’s go get your teeth brushed.” At this Varian groaned. He’d already brushed his teeth today! Now he had to do it again? Reluctantly the small child let Eugene drag him back inside.

He glanced back at the bushes, where his furry friend poked its head out. “I’ll be back!” The child whispered.

-

Frederick stirred his tea, brow furrowing. “It gets easier, huh dear?”

The queen didn’t look up. “You’re just mad Varian didn’t draw you into his family portrait.” 

“He drew Quirin but not me-!”

-

Varian ended up spending the rest of the day indoors, much to his chagrin. Part of him assumed it was punishment for trying to eat the worm (he kept telling Eugene he didn’t eat it, but Eugene didn’t believe him for a second), but in actuality, it was because an old friend of Eugene’s stopped by. Eugene had been helping Varian brush his teeth when Rapunzel poked her head in and let him know of their guest. The second Lance laid eyes on him, he wrapped the toddler into a crushing hug. “Flynn! I can’t believe I’m an uncle! And you didn’t tell me! Imagine my shock, I’m visiting Corona and I find out you stole a child!” 

Varian squirmed, alarmed at the sudden hug from a stranger. Wait… Flynn? As in, Flynn Rider? Flynn Eugene reads about every night before bed Rider? Varian opened his mouth to ask, when he was cut off. 

“Hang on, you stole Varian?” Rapunzel’s brow furrowed. “You said you picked him up off the streets!” 

“I did!” Eugene exclaimed. “I just… picked him up right in front of his abusive mother.”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, heavily amused. “Did she relinquish her parental rights?” 

“Well, no, but,” Eugene sputtered. 

Gripping her hair in distress, Rapunzel shrieked, “Eugene! You kidnapped Varian!” 

Eugene flinched. “She kicked him!? What was I supposed to do?”

“Get the guards!” 

The princess was near hysterical in fury. She laughed. “Ok, no one panic. We just broke the law and kidnapped a child, so technically we don’t even have full custody of him and if anyone found out Eugene would go to jail and Varian would go back to his biological parents!” She gasped for breath, before turning to her boyfriend with unblinking eyes.

Oh damn was he in major trouble. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Lance chimed in, readjusting so Varian was on his shoulders. “How about you and I go for a walk, I’ll tell you about the crazy stuff me and your dad got into!” With that, he promptly bolted out the room, Cassandra following shortly after. 

The door shut behind her, and Eugene was alone with his death staring him in the face. 

“Eugene, what on Earth were you thinking?” She moaned, running a hand through long blonde strands. She paced back and forth. “You’ve only been pardoned for 6 months and then you go and kidnap a child! In front of his mother! You’re so lucky she didn’t try to find him! Or press charges!”

“Because she abandoned him!” Eugene crossed his arms. “Blondie, I never lied. I found him on the streets, he said his mom left him. We ran into her by coincidence, and she kicked him when he tried to hug her.” His voice shook at the memory. Even now, after Varian was in his new, loving family, thinking about her made him sick. 

“I get it, I technically kidnapped him,” He looked down at the floor. “But I don’t regret it for a second. And I’m not giving back. I’d be sending him to his death… or worse.” 

There’s quiet for a moment. And then Rapunzel sighs. Her furious facade fractures. 

“I don’t want to send him back, either.” She lets out a weak laugh. “I never saw myself becoming a mother so soon. But whatever he needs… I want to be there for him.” Her eyes hardened. “And I can’t do that if he’s not officially your son. If he’s never your son, he can’t become our son someday.” Gently, she took his hands into her own.  

“I know,” Eugene whispered. He leaned down, resting his forehead on hers. “I’ll make it official, I promise.”

-

“You’re making it official!?” Eugene yelped.

The king raised a confused eyebrow. “That’s an odd way to put it, but sure. We’re holding a ball to welcome Varian to the castle.” 

Rapunzel looked like she had swallowed a whole lemon. “I don’t understand… why are we doing this?” 

“Because your father is mad Varian doesn’t like him,” Arianna piped up, not looking up from her book. The man in question’s eye twitched.

“Varian is Eugene’s son, and therefore he will be royalty when you two get married… and part of our family.” The last part was spoken harshly, more directed at his wife. Frederick paused to think. “He is legally your son, right? I know you found him on the streets, but did you ever find his parents?”

Eugene and Rapunzel shared a look. It was a silent argument, panic in both of their eyes. 

“Nope,” she said. “No parents!”

She ignored the horror on Eugene’s face. 

Frederick glanced back and forth between them, eyes critical. It was if all the air had been sucked from the room, the only sound came from the ticking of a clock.

Frederick brightened. “Well, alright!” He turned around, oblivious to the sighs of relief from both Rapunzel and Eugene. “He’ll need a bit of teaching, some basic manners, and ballroom clothes…” Rambling filled the room, ideas and plans and lessons.

“Are you sure about this?” Eugene whispered. 

“Yea!” Was all Rapunzel could muster. “We’re in this together.”

“...This is gonna go terribly.”

“Probably.”

-

The next week was one of the best and worst weeks of Varian’s life. 

Well, it probably wasn’t nearly as bad as his weeks on the street, but to a toddler, boring was just as bad as dangerous. And by god was it boring. He had to sit and listen while Cassie and Rapunzel taught him how to eat, how to dance, how to stand– 

Since he was still very young, he didn’t need to learn anything particularly tricky, it was more about manners. Saying please and thank you, bowing, that kind of stuff. But to a feral child who stole to survive, he couldn’t care less about not slurping soup and introducing himself.

“Ok Varian, let’s try this again.” Rapunzel curtsied to the child. “My name is Rapunzel de Sonne.”

Varian bowed, back straight, just like Cassie told him. “I’m Varian Fitz…. Fith…. Fitzbert.” Cassandra snickered. 

Rising back up, Rapunzel sighed fondly. “Fitzherbert. Your name is Varian Fitzherbert.”

“Fizzybee.”

“Fitzherbert.”

“Fibucket.”

“Fitzherbert.”

“Fitzfuckbert!”

She turned white as a sheet at the last one.

The highlight of his days came around lunchtime. Cassie would catch up with Eugene and Rapunzel, discuss something or other that Varian wasn’t really interested in. He’d eat his sandwich, grab his apple, and then trek into the garden where his friend was waiting. 

The first day after the worm incident, he’d brought his apple to eat for himself. But the little raccoon had stolen it right from his hand. Varian was shocked! 

“I used to steal apples too!” He told the raccoon. “But Eugene told me it wasn’t nice to steal from people. And then Uncle Lance showed up, and apparently Eugene used to steal! Like me! And that’s why he likes me so much!” The animal chittered.

“Can you keep a secret?” Grey ears flicked in Varian’s direction. “I wanna be like Eugene when I grow up.”

The raccoon blinked. It didn’t seem to understand Varian, but that was ok! He liked having a friend. And it seemed his furry friend did too! He climbed up onto Varian’s shoulder, nuzzling into black hair. Varian giggled wildly. 

“That tickles!” He squeaked, and the raccoon purred. Tiny giggles slowly faded into the ether. A small head peeked over the bushes to see Cassandra happily enacting today’s lessons. Eugene’s knees buckled at the story, and little Varian sighed.

“I keep messing up,” He whispered. “I don’t wanna make Eugene sad… but this stuff is so… stupid! And boring!” He pouted. 

The raccoon purred louder. Vibrations rung in Varian’s ear, calming him. The child smiled once more. 

“You’re really soft, and nice, and cuddly,” He cooed. Carefully, his tiny hand patted the animal on the head, and he got a lick on the cheek for his efforts. “I wish I could take you with me! Then it wouldn’t be so boring.”

After the ball, he’ll introduce his friend to Eugene. They both loved him, they were bound to get along, right? 

Right!

-

“Oh, look at you!” Lance clasped his hands together, eyes lighting up. “You look so handsome in your suit!” 

Varian squirmed, uncomfortable in the suit. It had only been a few minutes and he was starting to feel hot in the getup. Its ruffles scratched at his neck, and the coat was tight around his torso. And the shoes pinched in all the wrong places, making it hurt to walk. He felt so stiff, so unnatural! A few tears budded in his eyes as he fidgeted.

“Where’s Eugene?” He mumbled. 

“Right here. Looking good, hairstripe!” Eugene poked his nose, prompting happy kicks. “You ready to show those stuffy nobles why you’re the best?”

“Yea!” Instantly, Varian forgot what he was so upset about. Eugene was here! Eugene made all his problems go away. He eagerly toddled into the big, outstretched arms, relishing the hug. They separated, but Eugene still gripped onto his son’s hand. The throne room opened with a flourish, revealing a massive crowd. Nobles of all sizes and creeds, from all over Corona and then some. They all stared at the little family, some with polite smiles, others with thinly veiled disgust. 

Ohhh boy. Varian squeezed Eugene’s hand a little tighter. 

“You got this, kid. Just remember what Cassandra taught you,” the man whispered.

Rapunzel stood from her throne. “Lords and ladies, I present the Fitzherbert family for the first time!” She shot the two of them an encouraging grin. The hall erupted into polite applause as they stepped into the room. 

Now that their introduction was over, it was time to mingle. The King had made sure to invite a few noble families, so Varian wasn’t the only kid by a long shot. Still, he clung to Eugene’s leg like a limpet, hiding when scary faces got too close. He let Eugene do all the talking, his cute face was charming enough. Some noble ladies would lean down to his level to say hi, and of course Varian would say hi back, but it was all too much! Outside of introductions, he had no idea what to say. Eugene seemed to know what to do like it was second nature, effortlessly exuding charisma. As long as Varian behaved, Eugene would do the talking, and the nobility would be on their side in no time.

Just another reason Varian wanted to be like Eugene.

“He’s so precious!” One woman gushed, reaching down to pinch his cheek. Varian winced but didn’t complain. 

“Hello, I’m Varian Fitz...fitzbert.” He mumbled. Oh no! He still couldn’t get his own last name right! He hid his face in Eugene’s pants. The woman didn’t seem to care though, in fact, she seemed to love it. 

“So polite and quiet, too! Not like my Shelby, that’s for sure.” She motioned for a boy to come to her side. No more than 9, his frizzy red hair was slicked back into a neat ponytail. “Shelby, this is Varian, he’s the princess’s stepson.”

“Ah, not yet, we’re just dating,” Eugene flushed. “But he’s just as much her son as he is mine.” 

Shelby rolled his eyes and waved to Varian, but the little boy didn’t wave back. He looked big and mean! When Varian was on his own, a bunch of older kids used to taunt him. They’d take his food, or push him into puddles, or throw things at him! Shelby looked like a kid who’d do the same. 

“Hey,” Eugene whispered. “Why don’t you go out to the garden? I think that’s where the other kids are playing.”

Garden? Varian could go see his friend! He nodded eagerly, slipping away from Eugene, but not before giving his leg one last hug. 

He didn’t notice Shelby silently following him. 

The gardens were completely different at night. During the day, sunshine filtered through the trees, bathing everything in a whimsical glow. Varian could happily get lost in that grove for hours. But once the sun went down, everything became quieter, more peaceful. The flowers all closed their buds and the bugs went to sleep. Tonight, the only life was the children playing around in the grass. 

Varian was the youngest of them all. He shuffled on the balcony, unsure of how to get down there without being seen. 

“Hey, everyone!” Varian whipped around to see who yelled, it was Shelby! “The little tyke came to play!” 

All eyes turned to him. Varian shrunk under their gazes. He didn’t want to hang with the big kids! He just wanted his raccoon friend!

Just as before, Varian bowed. “I’m Varian Fitzberhert.” 

One of the kids laughed at his butchering. “Hey, pipsqueak. I’m Tyrone. And my mom put me in charge.”

“Did not!” A girl piped up. “You’re in charge of your siblings, not all of us!”

“We’re all related, it counts!” 

“Does not!”

“Does too!” 

“You’re all related?” Varian butt in. Heads whipped around to stare at him and he regretted it. 

Tyrone smirked. “Yea, all nobility is part of the royal family, dummy. But you’re not part of the family. You’re just some dumb, poor kid.”

Varian stomped his foot in frustration. “No I’m not! Rapunzel’s a princess, and she’s gonna be my momma someday!”

Shelby laughed from behind him. “That doesn’t count! Where’s your real mom?”

“Um...”

The kids circled around him, growing closer. Their faces all showed malice, darker and teasing. Just like the ones from the street. “Your real mom. Where is she?” Shelby repeated.

A single tear swelled in Varian’s eye. “I dunno…”

“Exactly. Not Corona. Cuz she’s some random peasant.” The boy got up in Varian’s face. “And so are you. Just a dirty street kid who the princess took pity on. Well don’t get used to it.” With that, he pushed Varian down. With a cry, he tumbled into the dirt. His hair brushed a familiar bush, leaves getting stuck in his stripe. “You’ll be back on the streets when she gets bored.”

No… they wouldn’t do that, would they?

The thought alone was scary enough. That tear fell. Then another. Varian hiccupped, sad and alone. 

The bush behind him rustled, and a familiar tongue licked the tears away from his cheek. 

His raccoon friend burst from the bush, launching itself at Shelby with a screech. The kid flailed around, crying for Tyrone and the others to help, but they scattered. The wild animal jumped off of Shelby and onto the ground, hissing. Not letting anyone dare get close to Varian. 

“What is that thing!?” Tyrone shrieked. “Get it out of here!”

Varian tilted his head. Had none of them ever seen a raccoon before? “He’s just my friend!” 

The kids didn’t seem to take that as a good thing. Instead, they all bolted up the steps of the balcony, back inside. He could even hear one of them crying for their mom. 

The toddler glanced at his friend, confused. What on Earth was that all about? The raccoon didn’t seem to care, purring and nuzzling his friend.

“I gotta admit, this party has been a pretty big success,” Cassandra muttered. She, Rapunzel, Eugene, and Lance were hanging out by one of the bannisters, taking a break from socializing. “I keep hearing everyone talk about how cute Varian is.”

“I know from experience, rich folk are willing to overlook your past if you give them something nice to look at,” Lance joked, elbowing Eugene. The man rolled his eyes but smiled. Neither of them were wrong. 

“Speaking of Varian, where did he go?” Rapunzel asked.

Eugene pointed to the patio door. “He went to play with the other kids.”

As soon as those words were spoken, the balcony doors burst open, sending a flood of kids inside. They all scrambled to their respective parents, babbling about a creature, dirt, gross, tell the king to make it go away!

“What on Earth…?” Eugene muttered. “Where’s Varian?”

He poked his head out the still open door, and gasped in horror.

Varian sat on the grass, covered head to toe in dirt, laughing and petting a raccoon. An honest to god raccoon!

“Varian!” He yelled. “The heck are you doing?” 

Varian glanced up and grinned. “Hi Eugene!” Standing up, he toddled over to his family, the raccoon following right behind. Eugene’s yelling prompted another noble to peek outside as well, and gasped.

Varian came up to the door, staring at both Eugene and the noble. He bowed perfectly. “Hi, I’m Varian Fitzherbert, and this is my friend, Ruddiger!” 

[tetedurfarm]

Do you have any advice for getting into keeping rabbits? I was looking into getting a couple for meat production and possibly starting to learn to tan pelts but I don’t want to get confused over all the conflicting info on the internet about wire flooring and such things.

ugh, it’s so frustrating, isn’t it?  with pretty much every other animal you can just google “how to raise x” and get tons of good advice, but the rabbit results are dominated by HRS forums that will crucify you for even mentioning breeding, much less meat production. 

so here’s some points i’ve learned from experience to help you out:

1. wire flooring is not evil.  in fact it’s great.  it’s clean, it’s sanitary, there’s airflow if you use it in a hutch, and if you do it right you won’t have foot problems (unless you’re raising rex or giant breeds, but even then there’s easy fixes like my lattice mats.)

here’s what you’re looking for:  1″x0.5″ grid 16g - 14g wire.  if you order your cages from a manufacturer like Bass Equipment (my preferred cagemaker,) or Klubertanz, this will come standard.  if you make your own cages or buy from a feed store, it’s a bit more hit and miss.  

make sure the half-inch wires are on top when you build your cages, so the weight is distributed properly:

see how the smaller gaps are “on top”?

vs this side.  (shoutout to me having like twenty cages all in pieces in my living room to get these nice reference pics ;p)

i also recommend you get your floors galvanized after weld; they’ll last a long longer that way!

–

2. babysaver wire is called that for a reason.  babysaver is when there’s a 1x0.5 grid near the bottom of a cage.  it’s there to keep kits from falling out of the cage, and helps prevent predators from easily pulling kits out.

this is a cage with babysaver.  it does what it’s meant to.  i use these for my doe cages, and even if a kit gets dragged out of the nest, as long as i find it in time, it’ll survive because it didn’t roll out and get snatched by something off the ground.

vs one without:

i use these for bucks and my growout pens for older kits.  they are cheaper than babysaver cages, but it’s worth the money to keep your babies safe.

–

3. invest in a good pair of j-clip pliers.  even if you buy prefab cages, often times they’re cheaply made and you’ll need to fill in gaps so they don’t fall apart so easily.  it’s also good to keep them around just because, because after a while the clips can get rusty and fall off, and you’ll need to replace them occasionally.

good on left, not so good on right.  the ones on the left cost my about fifteen bucks from my favourite hilariously-named rabbit supply site:  Rabbitnipples.com.  the ones on the right were like $8 at my local feed store.  so a significant markup, but VERY worth it.  the good pliers are more comfortable to hold in your hand, and make much nicer/more secure crimps than the cheap ones.  i often have to crimp clips twice or more with cheap pliers, because of the way they’re shaped:

the good pliers have a solid mouth that make a clean loop with no pointy outy bits.  and they can double as removers if you mess one up!

this is topical because i lost my good pliers and had to order new ones, and in the meantime i built four cages and my palms are so sore/bruised from the cheap pliers.  don’t be like me.

–

4. vets kinda aren’t worth it.  one of the things you’ll see on HRS sites is that vets are ABSOLUTELY necessary.  i don’t hate vets, but they chronically have no idea how to treat rabbits, often making them worse or causing them to die because they administered a med that’s safe for cats but not rabbits.  they also often subscribe to HRS rhetoric that pellets are evil and rabbits should only eat hay and greens, which is…wrong (i’ll get to that in a minute.)  if you can find a good vet it may be worth it for one or two rabbits, but once you get into the double-digits, it’s just not worth it.  exotics vets are expensive, and i can’t afford $50 just for a consult for thirty rabbits.  learn how to treat everyday ailments like sore feet, wounds, abscesses, eye infections, stasis/bloating, and birthing issues on your own.  i suggest joining up with a meat rabbit forum (i like rabbittalk.net,) and going through their articles on rabbit medicine and herbology.  if i can’t fix it myself, that rabbit is soup.  and if a rabbit chronically has health issues, don’t use it as a breeder.  bad immune systems/teeth/feet/etc are hereditary.

–

5. things will die.  get used to it.  with livestock comes deadstock.  if you can’t handle animals dying, including newborn babies, or having to euthanize animals (including newborn babies,) don’t get livestock.  if you can’t look your food in the eye and thank it for its sacrifices, then don’t get livestock.  this is not a place for bleeding hearts.

–

6. don’t breed a new doe by herself.  rabbits are running on hormones only for their first litters, and sometimes they mess it up.  having an experienced doe kindle alongside her that you can foster to gives the new doe’s kits the best chance of survival in case she doesn’t get it quite right.  this ties in with the last point, though - you’re gonna have dead babies.  sometimes you have to make the babies dead yourself, because mama screwed up and the foster already has eight of her own.  not everyone has a n’rithaa who can nurse nineteen and not break a sweat, and the kindest thing to do is pick the strongest and cull the weaker ones so mama doesn’t have so many to feed.

–

7. feed them pellets until you know what you’re doing.  pellets are formulated to be perfect nutrition for rabbits.  they are the healthiest option imo, and definitely the easiest.  it can take a few tries to find a feed that works for you, but they’re generally not too expensive and if your animals keep weight and make babies, then they’re fine.  trying to feed fodder only is expensive, time-consuming, and often ends up with animals not getting enough vitamins that cause bone issues, bloating, and tooth problems.  i am 100% convinced this is at least half of the reason why you see a lot of house rabbits that go into stasis a lot and have bad teeth.  (The other half is they’re always poorly bred byb rabbits, but that’s another conversation.)  fodder can be done well, but unless you really have the time/resources to grow appropriate plants or have a lot of pasture to graze on (and no worms/cocci or other bad things in your soil,) pellets and hay are perfect.  especially if you show.

–

8. if you wanna get into tanning, just get a synth tan, and don’t expect fur rabbits to be an ideal meat producer.  fur doesn’t prime until the animal is about six months old, and typically you’ll be slaughtering them for meat around 12 or 16 weeks.  so if you want to produce fur, either stop caring about the quality of your hides, or get ready to spend more in feed while you grow them to prime.  i know it’s popular to use rabbits as a dual-purpose animal, but you need to set expectations lol.  so far i’ve found rabbits that are half rex produce really nice furs before “prime” age, but they still take longer to grow out than my meat-specific rabbits.  dual purpose really just means “not that great at one or both purposes.”

also just don’t even bother with brain/egg tanning and get you a synth tan like Rittel’s or Trubond.  “natural” tans have too much of a learning curve, require smoking to make them waterproof, and the results are subpar.  synth tans are cheap, easy, usually safe to put down a train if you’re on city water/toss outside if you’re on septic, and will produce a waterproof skin that’ll last forever.  

also alum isn’t a tan.  if you get it wet it’ll start rotting again.  if you wanna make clothes or rugs, use a real tan.  please.  i beg of you.

–

9. auto-water systems are godly but don’t waste your money on expensive ones.  if you don’t know this, i’m disabled, and i like to make things easy on myself so i’m not having to fill 39458639458 bottles a day.  it sucks.  auto-water systems are SUPER convenient because you only have to refill the reservoir every few days and keep an eye on the nipples to make sure they aren’t clogged.

the problem is:  they leak.  all the time.  forever.  when i first got started i used cheap water nipples from amazon and was annoyed at how often they’d start leaking, or were leaking right out of the package.  so i switched to the more expensive Edstrom system that you can order online from places like rabbitnipples.com, bunnyrabbit.com, the bean farm, and bass equipment.  problem is, those leaked just as bad, and the edstrom water nipples cost FIVE DOLLARS EACH.  when half the nipples leak directly out of the box, i’ve just wasted $20+.  at least the ones from amazon are like $20 for a bag of 100.  if they’re all gonna leak anyway, at least i won’t go broke having to replace them all.

–

i can’t think of anything else off top my head so i’mma cap it here.  i’ve been doing this for five years and learned many many things the hard way so hopefully you won’t have to!

[fanfic-fangirl]

The Beginning Chapter 1

Pairing- Bucky/Winter Soldier x Mutant Reader

A Winter Soldier/Reader Alternate Timeline Fan-fic. This is book 1 of my series, The Spring Soldier. Takes place after Captain America: The First Avenger but before the Avengers.

A/N: So, I started this fic in 2017, so when reading, please keep that in mind. It’s still not complete, but I’m working on wrapping it up!

Summary:

The reader is a mutant, who has been hiding her abilities since they manifested, she’s never told anyone, not even her parents. She was too afraid they would turn on her or register her and she’d be taken away. She’s a veterinarian living alone on her farm. Both her parents are dead, having left the farm to her. She lives in a small rural town outside New York City.

One night, she hears gun shots and assumes it’s poachers she knows she won’t find anything if she goes out during the night and also risks the poachers turning on her, so she waits til morning, to see if she can find the potentially injured animal. She goes into the barn, having followed her cat and finds an unconscious and injured Winter Soldier. Having a soft spot for injured strays, she decides she’s going to help him until he wakes.

When he does finally wake, everything changes and her secret is exposed. She never expected her life to go in such a drastic direction, but, now that she’s on this path, she’s determined to travel it with him.

First Meetings

She had heard the gunshots and the dogs late last night, which she assumed were from poachers.  She knew there was no point in going out to find them, so, instead, she got up early to find the animal that more than likely got away.  Hopefully she'd be able to find it and nurse it back to health, before releasing it.  Worst case scenario, the animal had gotten away and been so wounded, it had died during the night, she hoped that wasn't the case.

While walking to her barn, her cat walked up to her, weaving between her legs.  He always greeted her whenever she came outside.  He was another animal she had rescued, he had been hit by a car and she found him on her way home one evening. She brought him back, fixed him up and he hasn't left since.

Who is she, you ask, her name is ___ ___, a veterinarian living in the rural area near Long Island, New York.  She had a private practice on her farm there, she saw a few animals at her home, more often than not, she made house calls for the animals that were too large to be brought in.  It was something she loved and had wanted to do her entire life.  When her Father died from a heart attack, she moved back in to help her mother who had had a stroke a few months before.  Her mother's health quickly began to decline and she died a few months later.  Now, it was just her, alone on her farm and she wouldn't have it any other way.  Of course, that didn't stop some of the local busy bodies in town, from trying their hardest to set her up with their sons and nephews.  They just couldn't understand how such a young woman would be happy living alone without a man to help her.

Of course, there were other reasons as to why she preferred to stay single.  She was what they called, a mutant.  She was one of the lucky ones, though, her mutant power wasn't obvious, so as far as anyone knew, she was a normal human. She had even kept the secret from her parents, she knew that if they found out, they'd send her to one of the mutant camps to have her “cured”.  She rather liked her power, it allowed her a lot of freedom.  She was one of the mutants blessed with the gift of wings, but her wings weren't like the others.  They weren't always exposed, she was able to absorb them into her body, the downfall to that, the mass of her wings had to go somewhere, so it would be distributed through her body as excess fat cells, which made her a little on the hefty side.  There were many nights, when she couldn't sleep, on those nights, she would just fly around instead.  She would fly to clear her head, to help her stop thinking about how her life hadn't gone the way she had thought.

Like now, here she was, out in the snow, getting ready to find the animal some poachers had been hunting last night.  She followed her cat, who she had named, Lucky, not the most original, but he was lucky she had come across him, otherwise he wouldn't be here to greet her every time she came outside.

“Hey, Lucky, you're awfully affectionate this morning.” She smiled, bending down to pick him up.  He nuzzled against her face, always happy to see her, he let out a small meow, then squirmed out of her arms and ran into the barn.

“What's wrong, Lucky?  You're usually a little more affectionate than that.” She asked, following the black and white cat into the barn.

When she opened the door, Lucky was standing there, waiting for her, he let out another cry and ran further into the barn, towards the back door.

“Lucky, what are you doing?” She asked, continuing to follow her cat.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw where Lucky had stopped.  He was sitting on the lap of a man.  A very injured man.

“Oh, shit!  Mister, hey mister!  Are you ok?” She asked running over and kneeling next to the man who had managed to sit himself in the chair she left by the back door. She quickly grabbed his left arm to feel for a pulse, but it was cold and very firm.  She pulled the glove off, gasping at the metal that was shinning back at her.  Remembering she needed to know if he was still alive or not, she decided not to take the chance his other arm was also metal, she felt for a pulse on his neck.  She found it. Faint, but it was there.

“I think we've found another Lucky.” She smiled down at her cat, who was still sitting in the man's lap.

“He doesn't look light.  How am I going to  get him into the house?” She asked, moving his hair out of his face, so she could get a better look at him.

“Handsome.  Shit, I bet he's who the dogs were looking for last night.  Whoever was looking for you, I sure hope you're the good guy.” She sighed, kneeling with her back towards him, pulling his arms over her shoulders, so she could carry him on her back.

It took all of her strength, but she managed to stand up with him on her back.  Slowly, she made it into her house and to her bedroom on the first floor.  Normally she would have given the guest one of the bedrooms on the second floor, but she knew she wouldn't be able to carry him all the way up the stairs.

Once she got the stranger situated in her bed, she took a minute to look him over.  He was covered in blood, she assumed most of it was his.  She went to her office where she kept all her veterinary supplies, grabbed a few things and headed back to her patient.  She lay everything out on her dresser, the IV, needles, gloves, scissors, cotton swabs, iodine, and various other things she would use to clean him up.  She was prepared to give him stitches, but once she got his shirt cut open and off, she found no open wounds, a few scratches and bruises, but nothing too serious.

“Wow, you really are one lucky guy. Got away with just a few scrapes and bruises.” She then looked at his metal arm and took it in her hand.

“I wonder if you were running from whoever did this to you?  Don't worry, mister, you're safe from whoever wants to hurt you, here.  What kind of monsters did this to a person?

” She sighed, gently placing his metal arm back on the bed so she could begin cleaning the few open wounds he did have.

It didn't take her long to clean him up and get him all set up with an IV, she figured he was dehydrated and since she wasn't sure how long he would be out, she didn't want to take the chance of his recovery not going as fast as it could because he wasn't getting the nutrients his body needed.

Now that he was fully treated, she began to take off his shoes.  While she was looking up at him, she noticed a hole in his pants, it was wet, with what she assumed, was blood.  Looking up at Lucky, who was laying on the man's chest, watching her, she sighed and  asked, “How did I not think to look at his legs for injuries.  Mister, I'm really sorry about this, I'm not trying to be a perv or anything.”

She got up and grabbed the scissors that she had set on the night stand next to the bed, then back to the bottom of his pants and began to cut them off.  Lucky let out a little meow to remind her that he was watching.

“I know, don't worry, I'm not going to do anything.  Damn, this is embarrassing!” She replied, thankful the man was out cold and couldn't see the inevitable blush that was forming.  Sure, she had studied some human anatomy in school, but never on an actual person.  There was a reason she became a vet instead of a doctor, besides trying to keep her mutant ability a secret, the thought of having to deal with naked people, made her extremely uncomfortable.  More specifically, having to deal with partially naked men telling her about their ailments.  Nope, animals would be much easier to deal with, no chance of embarrassment there, and no judgmental thoughts to worry about.

Once she finally managed to cut his pants away, that's where she saw it, there was a bullet hole in his leg.  Sliding her hand under his leg, she felt for an exit wound, she didn't feel anything, which meant the bullet was still inside.

“Looks like I'm gonna have to dig that out.  Lucky, don't let Lucky 2 get up.” She said deciding to give the stranger some kind of name.  Running back to her office to get some foresnips to try and dig the bullet out.  She wasn't gone long, Lucky was still lying on the man's chest, continuing to watch her.

“You know, we really should call him something other than mister or Lucky 2, how about we just call him Luke until he wakes up to tell us his real name?” She asked Lucky as she began to dig inside the wound for the bullet, Lucky just replied with a soft meow.  As she was digging in his leg, he began to groan and squirm, she looked up, seeing the look of pain on his face, she felt bad, but there was nothing she could do about the pain.  She could feel the bullet and didn't want to go back to the office to find the local anesthetic she had.  It would take to long to wait for it to kick in, not to mention, she almost had the bullet out.  He began to fidget his leg more, so she had to put part of her weight on it to finish pulling the bullet out.

“I'm really sorry, Luke, but the bullet is almost out.  Just bear with me a little longer.” She grunted as she finally pulled the bullet out of the wound.

“There!  Got it, now, let's stitch that bad boy closed.” She said, placing the bullet on a towel she had lying next to her on the floor.  Once the bullet was out, Luke had calmed down and stopped moving, his breathing was slightly labored, but he seemed to be calming down.  Looking back at the wound, she had a thought.  “You know, maybe I should numb this first.  Don't want to risk him waking up and freaking out on me.” So again, she got up and went find the cream of local anesthetic, she hoped it would numb the area just enough so she could get the stitches in without him squirming all over the place.  If she was going to do the stitches right, she wanted him to be as still as possible.

“Ok, almost done!” She smiled at Lucky, who had jumped back on Luke's chest, he had jumped off when Luke started squirming while the bullet was being removed.

___ rubbed a fair amount of the cream into Luke's leg around the wound once she got it cleaned up and added a cauterizing agent so it would stop bleeding.  She gave it about five minutes, before she started stitching the wound closed.  Once closed, she wrapped his leg to prevent any infection from getting into it.  She stood up and looked at her handy work, she was quite impressed with herself, especially considering she'd never done any kind of procedure on a human before.  Then, realizing the man was half naked, she blushed again and turned away.

“Right, we need to get you some pants.  I think I still have some of my dad's old sweats upstairs. They should fit well enough.  Be right back, Lucky.” she said, leaving the room and making her way upstairs to her parents old room.

After their deaths a few years ago, she had decided to leave their room the way it was.  She just couldn't bring herself to change it.  Even though they were gone and she knew they were never coming back, it still brought comfort to her, knowing their room was still there, just as they had left it.

She stood in the doorway a few minutes, after opening the door, to look at the room.  It had been a few months since she had last felt the need to enter.  On the nights when she would have really bad nightmares, she would come in here and sleep.  The room still smelled like her parents and she found it comforting when she would have nightmares, it was like they were still here, helping her.

She took a deep breath and walking into the room, straight to the dresser.  She didn't have to look for long, since she knew where her father kept all his clothes.  She used to help her mother put laundry away when she was still too small to help with the outside chores.  Once she had a pair in her hand, she closed the drawer and walked to the door.  She stopped and turned around, taking one last look before she closed the door and made her way back downstairs.

“You know, Lucky, maybe I should finally get around to changing mom and dad's bedroom.  I've always wanted a library and I think mom and dad would like it if I turned their room into a library.  What do you think?” She asked as she walked back into the room, looking at her cat, he just gave her a slow blink in response.

“Yea, you're right, maybe once spring rolls around, then we can consider turning it into a library.” She chuckled, as she struggled to put the pants on Luke.  “Man, you're heavier than you look!” she grunted as she finally got them up to his waist.  The she stood up and took a step back, looking over her work, smiling.

“That should do it for now.  I'll be back in a few hours to check on you again.” She said, as she threw a blanket over him, covering Lucky, who didn't mind at all.  He'd crawl out from underneath when he was ready.  Now that he was all cleaned up and tucked in, she cleaned up the mess she had made, with everything in the bowl she brought in, she took one final look at the man, before shutting the door, leaving enough of a crack so Lucky could come and go as he pleased.

  The next couple of days were quiet, she went about her daily routine, checking on Luke every few hours, changing his bandages as needed and cleaning up the mess from when he would urinate in his sleep.  Now she was really wishing she had learned about catheters in school, but you usually didn't use them for animals, so she saw no need to keep any on hand.  She made a note, that the next time she ordered supplies, she would definitely be ordering catheters.  She doubted she would ever use them, but she'd rather have them on hand anyway.

  It was early evening on the fourth day after she found Luke in her barn.  She had come home from a particularly messy job and just finished her shower.  Now that she was all clean, she made a fire, since it had started to snow and it was her main source of heat in the house.  Once she had the fire going, she decided to cook dinner.  She was reheating left over spaghetti.  She had her favorite mix tape playing while she cooked, singing and dancing along with it.  Completely oblivious to the movements that were happening in her bedroom.

Luke had woken up.  He blinked a few times and looked around the room.  This was definitely not a HYDRA installation.  He sat up and cringed when he felt the pinch in his arm and pain in his leg.  He looked at his arm first, seeing the IV, he quickly pulled it out.  Though it didn't look like HYDRA, he wouldn't put it passed them to put him in a setting like this to test him, make sure he was loyal.  He winced as he moved his leg, feeling the pain from the bullet he remembered being shot with.  Even though he had been injected with the super soldier serum, it didn't do to much in helping him heal faster.  It helped a little, but not as much as he would have liked.

As he tried to get up, he heard a meow, looking down next to his feet, there sat a black and white tabby. They starred at each other for a minute, before the cat got up and rubbed up against his legs.  He smiled at the action and wondered what kind of HYDRA agent would have a cat as a pet.  Then he noticed music coming from the other side of the cracked door.  He slowly got up and did his best to limp over to the door, upon opening it, he was hit with something he wasn't sure if he had ever smelt before.  Just what kind of HYDRA agent was this?  They had a cat, listening to music and cooked their own food?  His curiosity getting the better of him, he slowly and as quietly as he could, crept to where the music was coming from.

He was shocked when he saw her.  She was definitely not an agent he had ever seen before.  She was short in stature, with long (h/c) hair and a little on the chunky side. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt with shorts that came to mid-thigh and she was dancing and singing along to her music while she cooked.  This was definitely not the normal behavior of a HYDRA agent, not to mention she would be considered unfit as an agent and would never be allowed in the field.  Her guard was down and she was alone, this also went against all HYDRA protocol.  Then he remembered how he had gotten injured.  He had disobeyed a direct order during a mission and managed to get away.  He remembered running through the forest and being chased, but the memory starts to get fuzzy after he was shot.

Though he doubted she was  HYDRA, he couldn't be to sure and felt it best to keep his guard up.  Lost in thought, he quickly looked up when she screamed and he heard glass shattering. His presence clearly startled her.  Did she expect him to stay in bed after he woke up?

  ___ was definitely not expecting her patient to be up so soon.  She thought he would have been out a few more days, so when she turned around and saw him standing in the doorway to her kitchen, she couldn't help but scream and drop her bowl of spaghetti, jumping back as the hot sauce hit her legs.  She fell when her foot landed on a sharp piece of ceramic, falling on the food and shattered ceramic, getting a few more cuts as she tried to get up.  He cautiously walked over to her and offered her his flesh hand.  She looked up at it, then him and smiled.

“Sorry, you startled me.  You'd been asleep for so long, I was beginning to think you weren't ever going to wake up.” She said, scooting back so her back hit the cabinet behind her.  Once she had her uninjured foot stable and not on any sharp ceramic pieces, she took his hand and let him help her stand up.

“Thank you.” She said as she adjusted the weight on her good foot and placed booth hands on the counter behind her to help stabilize her.  “How are you feeling?” she asked before limping over to her fridge and digging out the broom she kept in the space between the fridge and the wall.  All Luke did was watch her, still certain this was a ruse to get him to drop his guard.

She stopped and looked at him, waiting for an answer, but all he did was stare back at her.

“You look better, that's for sure.” She still smiled as she hobbled back over the mess she had made, stopping to get something from under the sink, he tensed and was ready to attack, thinking she was getting a weapon of some kind, he relaxed a little when he saw her grab a dust pan and a towel.

“How's your leg?  I did the best I could getting the bullet out and did a decent job on the stitches. You'll have a scar, but something tells me you don't really mind scars.” she said as she looked at his left shoulder, where metal met skin.  He, too, looked at his bare shoulder, then back at her, wondering why she wasn't fazed by it at all.  She had bent down and was picking up the large pieces of the ceramic bowl she had dropped.

“You can sit down, you know.  I'll have this cleaned up in just a minute, then I can set up a bowl for you.  I hope you like spaghetti.” She said, not even bothering to look up at him as she continued to clean up her mess.  She did find it odd at how quiet he was.  If she was in his shoes, she'd be asking all kinds of questions about where she was and who he was and what happened.  She just figured he was still a little confused and disoriented from being unconscious for so long.  She was sure he'd talk when he was ready.

She smiled a little when she heard the chair move and give a small creak when weight was added to it.

“My name's ___, by the way.”

He just looked at her quizzically and his brows furrowed.  Was she expecting him to tell her his name in return?

“I didn't know your name, so I've been calling you Luke.” She said, sitting on her haunches and looking up at him.

“Luke?” He said, it didn't sound or feel familiar, so he was sure that wasn't his name.  His concentration was broken by a small meow and something brushing up against his legs.

“And that's Lucky, he's the one who found you in my barn and he's been keeping watch over you while you slept.  Only left to go to the bathroom and eat, otherwise, he was in the room with you the whole time.  He doesn't usually take to strangers so quickly, but I'm glad he likes you.” She said with a small chuckle.

He groaned and clutched his head in pain, slamming his fist on the table as images of people quickly flashed in his mind, it was as if they were screaming to be remembered.  ___ looked up at him, startled by the loud noise. Seeing the distress he was in, she quickly got up, forgetting about the pain in her own foot, and ran over to him, kneeling next to him. Her hand on one shoulder, while the other one ran through his hair, getting it out of his face so she could get a better look at him, trying to see if there was a wound she had missed that might be causing him pain now.  She didn't see anything.

“Luke, are you ok?  What's wrong?” She asked, her hand quickly moving down the side of his face, over his cheek and under his jaw, lifting it up to look at her.

Once the pain had gone and the images had stopped, he opened his eyes and looked straight into hers.  They were full of nothing but concern.  Not a look he was accustomed to seeing.

“I don't remember my name, but I know that's not it.”  He opened his eyes when he heard her let out a small chuckle, the look of concern was gone and was replaced with a smile.  Again, not something he was used to seeing on the people he worked for.

“I figured as much, but sadly, it's gonna have to do until you remember yours.  Are you hungry?” she asked, standing up and limping over to the stove.

That's when he noticed the trail of blood her foot was leaving.

“You're bleeding.” He said, looking up at her.  He watched as she turned to look at him, then at the floor, seeing the blood she left as she stepped.

“I guess I am.  Well, let me make you a bowl, then I'll go patch my foot up and join you.” she said, returning to her original task of getting him something to eat.  Once she set it down in front of him, she sat down as well, clearly forgetting about her foot again.

“It's been a few days since you've had anything solid in you.  Make sure you eat slow, so you don't throw it up right away.  You're stomach needs to get used to having solids in it.  If this is too much for you to handle, I have some soup that I could heat up instead.  I probably should have tried that first.” she mumbled the last part more to herself than to him.

He looked at her, still smiling at him. He was a little weary of the fact that she wasn't eating anything. It made him think she had put something in his food.  Even though he watched everything she had done, and didn't see her add anything, he couldn't be too sure.  She was a stranger and for all he knew, she wanted to kill him.

“Is it too hot?  Should I heat up the soup instead?” She asked, worried as to why he wasn't eating.

She went to get up, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrist, looking at the contact, she sat back down and looked at him, that look of concern gracing her features once again.

“Why are you being so nice and helping me?” he asked, his grip on her wrist tightening, she winced at the increase in pressure.

“I don't know.” She replied, trying to pull her wrist out of his grasp, only causing him to hold it tighter.

“Did they order you to help me?  Is this some kind of test?” He asked his voice harsher, his grip tightening still.

His eyes never left hers.  He watched as they began to water.  Watched for any indication she was HYDRA, that this was a test of loyalty, a test to see how he would react if he thought he wasn't being monitored, if he thought he had truly succeeded in escaping them. He watched as panic took over her features, as she struggled to free herself.

“Ow, you're hurting me!  Let go!” She said, her voice laced with the first signs of panic and the look on her face quickly changing to that of fear.  He watched as she tried to pry his hand off her wrist, but she was no match for his strength.

“Who are you working for!” He demanded as he practically yelled at her.

She could feel the panic as it began to bubble up to the surface.  She knew that if she let it take over, she wouldn't be able to keep her wings hidden.  The last thing she wanted to do was expose her secret to him, but the tighter his grip got and the angrier he looked, the harder and harder it was to keep the overwhelming feeling of panic under control.  Then, when he yelled at her, demanding to know who she worked for, she lost it.

“I SAID, LET GO!” She screamed as wings exploded from her back.

Luke was bowled over and pushed across the floor by the wind that her wings created as they burst forth from her back, hitting the wall behind him.  Eyes wide, he looked up to see the girl standing in front of him, her shirt barely hanging on to her shoulders, her shorts in tatters on the floor.  She was panting and her eyes conveyed nothing but fear and panic as she crossed her arms over her chest, cradling the wrist he had been holding and also preventing her shirt from completely falling off and exposing all of her to the stranger laying on her kitchen floor.

That's when he knew.  He knew there was no way she was a HYDRA agent.  If she was, he would have heard about her, he would have gone on missions with her.  He would know if HYDRA had an angel on their side.

Luke never took his eyes off her as he eased himself up into a sitting position.  Leaning against the wall, letting it support him as he tried to process what had just happened. He let his eyes wander up and down, noticing how her appearance had changed.  She was slimmer now, her face still held that look of panic and fear.  He had seen that look many times in people before he killed them.  She was afraid for her life.

“I'm sorry.” Luke said as he finally moved to stand up.  Once he was stable, he went to take a step towards her, but she only limped back.

“I thought you were trying to hurt me.” He said as he bent over and set the chair he had been sitting in, up right, then sat in it.  Trying his best to show her that he wasn't going to hurt her.

“Why would I fix you up, just to try to hurt you later?” she asked, after a few minutes of silence and once she was sure he wasn't going to try and hurt her again.

“Because that's the kind of thing the people I work for would do.” He answered, letting out a heavy sigh as he did.

“The people you work for are messed up.” She scoffed as she took a few hesitant steps towards one of the chairs sitting at the table.

“I know.  It's ok, you can sit down. I'm not going to hurt you.” he said as he looked down at his metal arm.  He really hated that arm.

“Are the people you work for the one's who gave you that arm?” she asked, finally sitting down in the chair.  Luke just nodded.

“Are they also the one's who shot you?  And the reason I found you passed out in my barn?” She asked, pulling the shirt up on her shoulder, as it had slid down a little when she walked to her chair.

Again, he just nodded.

“The people you work for really suck!” she huffed.

He couldn't help but give a small smile at her words, the smile quickly disappeared as he realized they would be looking for him.  Which meant, she wasn't safe and if HYDRA found out about her and her ability, they would stop at nothing to have her.

“I should go, you're not safe if I stay.” He said with a scowl as he stood up.

“What!  No, you can't go!  You're not fully healed.” She almost yelled as she did her best to run towards him and grab his arm.

“It doesn't matter, as long as I'm here, you won't be safe.” he said, not bothering to turn around and look at her.

“I don't care who you work for! You're not leaving here until you're fully healed.  Besides, I'm sure they would have found you and captured you by now if they were still looking for you.” She said, stepping so she was now in front of him and giving him a small smile as she blocked his way to the backdoor in her kitchen.

He really did want to stay. He couldn't remember anyone ever having been this caring towards him. It made him feel almost human.

“Come on, at least stay until that wound on your leg closes up.  Then, once it's all better, you can leave if you want.  Besides, it's snowing outside.  How far do you think you're going to get, dressed like that.” She smirked, looking down at his sweatpants and bare feet.

He looked down, realizing she was right and sighed.

“You're right.”

“I know.  Now come on, sit back down at the table and I'll heat your dinner back up.” She said, grabbing his hand and turning him so he was now facing the kitchen.  He had almost forgot that she was hurt until he saw her limp to the table and grab the bowl she had made for him, then quickly looking away as it dawned on him that her backside was completely exposed, parts hidden because of her wings. He was fascinated by her wings, they were almost as long as she was tall and they reminded him of a Raven, the color a deep, glistening onyx. He wanted to touch them and see if they were as soft as they looked.

“Your foot.”  He said, remembering her limp and forcing himself to not focus on her wings, as he was still standing there, now staring at the floor.

“Hmm, oh yea.” she said as she looked down to see how she was favoring the injured one.

“Guess I forgot with all the excitement.  But, hey, at least it's stopped bleeding.” She joked as she walked to the microwave and put his bowl in.

“You should go take care of it.  I can heat my dinner.” Luke said as he walked to where she was standing, he wasn't quite sure how to address her shredded clothing, Trying not to get to close, as her wings were a little intimidating.

“No, it's fine.  What kind of host would I be, if I let you heat your own food?” she chuckled, then gasped and stood rigid as she felt a hand run across the edge her wing.

“They're beautiful.” Luke whispered, not able to contain his desire to touch them. Then, noticing her stiff reaction, he quickly removing his hand. “Sorry, I didn't mean to...”

“No, it's ok, it just surprised me, is all.  No one's ever touched them, let alone seen them. You can touch them, again, you know, if you'd want to.” She said, almost in a whisper, relieved he couldn't see the heat that was spreading across her face. She opened the microwave door and gave his food a few stirs, before placing it back in the microwave for another minute.

“How did you get them?” Luke asked, allowing his flesh hand to reach back up and run along the edge, then over her soft feathers, he couldn't help but stare as he did. He didn't see that she had placed her hands on the counter, supporting herself as she went weak in the knees. She appreciated how gentle his touch was. Wanting him to touch more, she let her wings expand as much as they could in the kitchen. Understanding what she was asking, he brought his metallic hand up and ran it along the arm of her other wing, she hung her head forward as she let out a low moan. The sensation wasn't sexual in nature at all, it felt more like when someone lightly massaged aching muscles.

“I guess I was just born with them.” her voice light and airy after letting a few minutes of silence pass, before answering him, allowing herself to enjoy the sensation of his touch. It was a completely new experience, hands gently caressing her wings, she had no idea they would be so sensitive.

“What do you mean?” he asked, reluctantly pulling his hands away and letting them fall back to his sides. It took a moment for her to realize that he had removed his hands. Once she did, she took a few deep breaths, clearing her throat as she focused her attention back on heating up his food.

“I'm what they call a mutant.  Mutant abilities don't usually manifest themselves until puberty.  So, I didn't know until I was about fourteen.  Um, can we talk about something else?  I'm not very comfortable talking about them.  Like I said, you're kind of the only person who's ever seen them.” she couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the pseudo-affectionate moment they had just shared

The microwave beeped, signaling it's job was done.  ___ took out the bowl and stirred it a few more times, then turned to hand the bowl to Luke.

“It should be hot enough, if not, just pop it back in the microwave for another minute or so.  I have to go take care of my foot.” she said, avoiding making eye contact with him, her voice still very quiet.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry.” He said, taking the bowl from her.

“It's ok.  Like I said, I've just never talked to anyone about it.” she turned to leave, but then stopped and added, “If you'd like something to drink, there's cups in the cupboard next to the fridge.  I'll be back in a minute.” Then she limped out the door and headed to what he assumed was the bathroom.  He watched her go, realizing her shirt had been shredded by the exposure of her wings.  He also noticed the scars on her back, he assumed those were from when she drew out her wings and he couldn't help but wonder if the process was painful or not.  Coming out of his thoughts, he stirred the contents of the bowl a few times, then set it down on the table before getting a cup and filling it with water.  He felt bad for asking about such a sensitive subject, but he couldn't help himself.

  Luke was washing his bowl and cup when she came back into the room.  He noticed that her wings were gone, her mood seemed to be brighter and she was fully dressed.

“How was it?” she asked, sitting at the table across from where he had been, acting as if nothing had happened.

“Good, thank you.” he answered as he walked back to the table and sat down.

“I'm sorry about earlier.” She said, looking down at her hands that she played with nervously.

“It's ok, I'm the one that should be apologizing.” he said, watching her fidget.

“Let's just say we're both sorry and leave it at that.” She replied with a nervous smile, hoping he would drop the issue and they could talk about something else.

She was relieved when he nodded in agreement and let out a heavy sigh.

“So, where are you from?” She asked, trying her best at making small talk.

“I don't remember.” he replied, looking to the side.

“Then how do you remember who you work for?”

He let out a heavy sigh, deciding to take the chance and trust her.  If she really was a HYDRA agent, the worst that would happen is he would be beaten and wiped before being put back in the cryo-freeze.

“Before you found me.  The people I work for, after my missions are complete, freeze me until I'm needed for another mission.  I have no idea who I was before or how old I am.  They have a way of erasing my memories after every mission before I'm put back to sleep.”

___ listened in horror as he told her of the things he's remembered doing and the people he works for.  She listened as he told her about the events that led up to her finding him.  Once he was done talking he looked up to see her hand covering her mouth and tears falling down  her chubby cheeks.

He was surprised by her reaction.  The sorrow that was written across her face was not the look he was expecting to see when he looked at her.  He expected to see disgust and disdain, not sorrow and sympathy.

“Oh Luke, that's absolutely horrible! No wonder you ran away.” She said, reaching her hand across the table and resting it on top of his flesh hand.

“I want you to know, you are welcome to stay here as long as you want.  I will keep you as safe as I can, for as long as I can.” She gave him a gentle smile as she looked up at him.

“Thank you, but like I said before, they'll be looking for me, if they aren't already.  If they find me here with you and they find out about your wings, they will take you.”

“Why don't you let me worry about that.  Like I said, you can stay here as long as you want.  I mean, I could use some help with some of the outside chores.” Her smile got a little bigger as she sat back in her chair.  He couldn't help but give her a small smile back.  The chance to do some normal tasks was very appealing and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of feeling somewhat like a normal human being.

[thatsparrow]

(fleabag/priest • read on ao3)

I love you, too.

It'll pass.

Much like God, that last bit turned out to be a lie. 

—

It's two years later and things are—fine, actually. Good, even. Cashiers ask you how you are, and you say, "I'm doing well, thanks," and it doesn't even feel like a lie. The cafe is, somehow, still a success—enough so that you can afford to do things like buy a new awning and replace the linoleum. You even spend a weekend with drop-cloths spread out over your nice, recently-replaced linoleum and give the interior a new coat of paint. You choose this pastel, light-washed teal color that looked cheery on the swatches but mostly reminds you of watered-down mouthwash. Still, when the sun comes in during the afternoons, it looks nice. You get compliments on it.

All the guinea pig pictures are still up, of course.

Both Hillary and Stephanie (who is, you remind people, actually a hamster) are also doing well, which feels like a miracle. A few months back, Hillary caught some sort of guinea pig flu and that had led to an emergency vet visit and several very-panicked Google searches about guinea pig lifespans, but then she'd gotten better and apparently they live for four-to-eight years anyway, so, she'll likely be around for ages yet.

(Hamsters, on the other hand, only live about two. Sorry, Stephanie.)

That banker—or, former banker? You never did find out what his new job was—still comes by. At least once a month, and usually on Chatty Wednesdays. He brings his wife, too, as he'd said he would. She has kind eyes—which is the sort of description you don't use very often, but suits her—and is both soft-spoken and full of questions. You learn that she bakes, because of course she does, and every so often she brings along a cloth-lined basket of lavender cookies or rose-frosted cupcakes or something equally Martha Stewart. They're fucking delicious, too.

Claire still commutes from Finland, but less often, now that she lives there. She has an apartment in London for when she visits that's obscenely beautiful and rarely-ever used—dark granite countertops and these funny-looking geometric sofas and lots of tasteful artwork (though, none of them done by your cunt stepmother). It should all be gathering dust, but Claire pays someone to clean it once a week and to keep the fridge stocked (on the off chance she comes for a sudden visit, which she never does). Sometimes, when you've been out late and your own place is too far away, you stay there for the night. Claire did give you a spare key, after all, and it seems a shame that no one is getting any use out of those million-thread count sheets or the quinoa salads in the fridge. You don't particularly like quinoa, but that isn't the point. 

The two of you don't talk often, but often enough. You know that she's busy, and when she does call, it doesn't feel like an obligation. Like, sure, maybe your sister needs a calendar reminder to phone you, but when she does, she sounds genuinely happy to hear from you. (She also just sounds genuinely happy about her life, which is such a wonderful change of pace.) Tall, blonde, beautiful, Finnish Klare posts pictures of the two of them on Facebook sometimes (yes, you got a Facebook just to friend him)—mostly selfies, all taken by him, of him and Claire in various corners of the world. Stern-looking, northern cities where the sun doesn't rise part of the year, and bright, fruit-flavored beaches where the sun never sets. Claire looks half-annoyed in all of them, but the kind of annoyance that's covering up how pleased she really is. Like she isn't allowed to look too happy about her tall, blonde, beautiful, Finnish boyfriend and how much he clearly adores his tall, brunette, equally-beautiful, British girlfriend.

"If you have a child, will you also name it Claire?"

"What? Don't be silly, we're not having a child. I don't even know if we're going to get married."

(She does, and they are.)

"You could spell it with a ch so it's a little bit different. Something silly and American, like C-h-l-a-y-r-e."

"Stop it."

(She's smiling on the other end of the phone. You expect they'll announce the pregnancy by the end of the year.)

"It's gender-neutral, too, so you're set either way. Come on—you both have perfect bones and perfect hair and it'd be such a shame to waste that. "

"You're ridiculous."

"Always, but I think I'd be a great Aunt to little Chlayre."

"I'm going, now."

Apparently, having sex with someone who has the same name as you is weird, but you get used to it. And, apparently, the sex has been so amazing anyway that it's worth a little weirdness. Good for her. God knows she needed it.

(Speaking of God—)

He moved parishes shortly after the wedding. Not God, of course, but—well, you know. You'd thought it a little dramatic to move entire cities just because you'd had sex, but it was also arguably less dramatic than his leaving the Church, so. Likely he had made the right call. You probably would have ended up hating each other by the end, anyway, if he'd stayed. It wouldn't have worked out, because when do these things ever? It's good that he left. (It isn't.) It is.

Still.

You think about him less than you used to, less than in the days after—I love you, too. It'll pass—the bus stop, when it was all still so fresh and new. When you were feeling dramatic (drunk), you'd liken it to the feeling of having lost a limb, like he'd taken one of your hands or some vital organ when he'd walked away. When you're feeling less dramatic (sober), you liken it to having lost something you'd only been promised—something fanciful, like someone told you that they'd invented the ability to breathe underwater and it had all turned out to be a lie. 

Except it wasn't a lie. He did love you. He just loved God more.

One afternoon, you'd been running errands that had happened to take you past the church (six blocks out of your way, actually, but close enough) and ducked inside—not even to say anything, just to see him, maybe—but it had been empty except for Pam arranging some pamphlets at the front. You'd asked about him, because of course you had, and she'd said he was "gone."

"Gone gone? Like—"

(Dead?)

"No, sorry, my mistake. Moved. This lovely parish on the coast whose own priest passed away a few weeks ago. A little quiet, but he says it's very charming."

"You've spoken to him, then?"

"Yes, of course."

Of course—like it's so simple.

You leave ten minutes later, after Pam's talked you into donating another ten pounds to the collection and volunteering at another church event the coming weekend, but it doesn't really hit you until you're nearly back at the cafe that he's—gone. Not dead gone, but might as well be. That, much like Harry taking that stupid dinosaur toy, he'd wanted to close the door permanently. Maybe he knew you well enough to know that you'd come back to the church someday, or maybe he knew himself well enough to figure it was only a matter of time before he turned up on your doorstep, and so he'd taken the choice away from you both. What a stupid, frustratingly-adult thing of him to do.

You hate him and love him a little bit more for it.

You don't really know what moving on looks like, but you figure it out. You drink a lot, at first, and then a little bit less. You stop feeling weepy whenever you see a Bible, or a G&T, or photos from the wedding. Rebound sex isn't as good as you'd imagined (except with the Hot Misogynist), and so you quit bringing people home quite so often—at least until you can stop comparing everyone to him. You still masturbate over him, of course, but it feels less like a need and more like a way to treat yourself. Like, if you eat all of that kale salad and only have a glass of wine with dinner, then tonight you can wank over his stupid strong arms and his stupid beautiful neck and that stupid little smile of his. If you just make it through a whole lunch with your dad and your cunt stepmother and not say anything too profane, then you get to touch yourself and imagine waking up with him in the morning and him making you pancakes and other sickeningly domestic fantasies.

It's been two years, so of course you've moved on, but you've moved on in a way that lets you keep loving him. Perhaps it's irresponsible, but you're not willing to let him go entirely. Not yet, anyway.

 —

 Then, your cunt stepmother announces that she and your father are adopting a baby.

"I'm sorry, what—"

"You've got to be fucking kidding—"

They'd waited until Claire was in town to make the announcement. They'd invited you both over for tea, and you should've known something was strange about that, but then you're sitting in the garden with a mouthful of Earl Gray and your cunt stepmother says she's adopting and you have to flip a coin between spitting out the tea all over her tasteful linens or scalding the inside of your throat.

You end up swallowing the sip, but it's a close call.

"Well, you know, I've never really ruled out having children—it's such a blessed, beautiful part of life—but, unfortunately, I can no longer conceive naturally, and so your father and I have been discussing—"

(It wasn't a discussion.)

"—and we submitted the applications and met with a mother this week. Lovely girl, terribly awful home life, can't afford to raise the baby on her own, but she's just got the most marvelous cheek bones."

(Cunt.)

"Anyway, she's due in a couple of weeks and then we'll be bringing little Felicity home—"

(Felicity?)

"—and we'd just love it if you two were there for the christening."

"Yeah, because this family has such a great record with godmothers."

Your cunt stepmother is still smiling but the look she's giving you is acidic enough to peel paint.

"Oh, look, I don't know." Claire's grip on the teacup is so tight, you're surprised she hasn't cracked the porcelain. "I've just taken time off to come home, and I'm really not sure I'll be able to again so soon—"

"No, but you must—mustn't she, darling? Your father just couldn't bear it if you weren't there for such an important day, and we did so miss you at the wedding reception."

(Two years, and she still hasn't let that go.)

"Say you will, Claire. Please? Promise us you'll be there." How your cunt stepmother manages to look so pleading is a mystery, but fuck her if she doesn't have it nailed. Your father is still mostly silent, as he's been throughout this whole ordeal, but Claire must see something in his expression because she relents with a, "Yes, fine, alright. I'll be there."

For the christening. The christening of the baby they're adopting. Your father's going to be in his fucking seventies at the kid's graduation.

"Oh, how marvelous! It won't be for a few months or so after the birth, so you should have plenty of time to get everything in order. The whole thing will be just splendid."

(It won't be.)

 —

 The day of the christening creeps up like a bad dream.

(You know those events when you think you'd rather get a bikini wax and then take a bath in lemon juice than attend? This is one of those days.)

You found a dress that seems like a good church dress, a boat-neck, sky-blue thing that doesn't really do anything for your figure, but it is a christening, so. You get there early because your cunt stepmother asked you to (demanded it), and because Claire will be getting there early as well, and maybe the two of you can sneak some of the church wine. You figure you'll probably be handing out programs or directing people to their seats or whatever else happens at a christening. It'll last about an hour, and then there will be a tasteful reception with champagne and sparkling cider and your dad and cunt stepmother showing off baby Felicity in her white, wedding-like christening gown, and then you can go home and forget the whole thing ever happened.

That's the plan, anyway.

You get to the church a half-hour before the christening starts (which is still later than you were meant to be here, but fuck it) and your cunt stepmother is already in—well, a tizzy. She's wearing this funny, artsy-looking gown that's patterned like stained glass and you wish it looked worse on her than it does. She's not yet holding baby Felicity (because this day isn't really about baby Felicity) but she is deep in conversation with the priest up near the altar, who's already dressed in his own decorative christening robes. Then your cunt stepmother looks up and sees you standing in the aisle, half-debating whether you could hide under the pews, and she's calling out your name and saying, "Thank God you're finally here—sorry, Father," and, "Oh, do you remember—?"

(It's him.)

"—he's the priest who officiated our wedding. He's not in the parish anymore—such a shame—but when I knew we'd be adopting little Felicity, I contacted him to find out if he'd be willing to perform the ceremony. Such a dear, isn't he?"

(It's him.)

"I do so love the symmetry of it. And it seemed such a hassle trying to find another priest we'd connect with when we already knew such a nice fellow."

(It's him, it's him—fuck me—it's him.)

He smiles when he sees you, a nice, polite, church smile. Of course, he's had however many weeks to prepare for this whereas you've just had an anvil dropped on you like you're Wile E. fucking Coyote.

"Pleasure to see you again," he says. He even sounds sincere.

"Likewise—" you say, but then your cunt stepmother is coming down from the altar and shepherding you into the back and putting you to work folding programs—"Make sure you're lining up the corners, dear,"—and you've never hated her quite so much. Of course, if it weren't for her and baby Felicity and the whole stupid christening, he wouldn't be here in the first place, but you're willing to ignore that for the sake of hating her. Fuck, he'd looked good, too. And here you are in your fucking church-appropriate dress folding fucking programs and by the end of the day he'll be gone back to the fucking coast and—

You need a cigarette, or ten. Fuck the programs.

It's quiet in the alley, enough so for you to take a couple of slow, deep, wonderfully nicotine-filled breaths and get yourself together. It'll be fine. It'll be miserable, but it'll also be fine. You'll sit in the pew, and you'll watch him perform the ceremony, and try very hard not to think about how beautiful he is underneath the fancy christening robes, and tonight you'll drink yourself unconscious and then wake up tomorrow and forget the whole day ever happened. It'll be the worst day of your life, but then it will be over.

(Second-worst, actually.)

The cigarette is nearly burned down to your fingernails, and you're about to stub it out when you hear the side door opening, and you say, "Sorry, Dad, I'll be there in a moment, I'm just—"

"Got a light?"

It's him.

(It's him.)

You nod, your breath feeling very shallow as he comes up next to you, leans in towards you with the tip of his cigarette. The orange light looks like paint on his skin, like he's been pulled from a Renaissance painting. He still smells the same.

"Aren't you worried about ash on your—" you gesture down at the fancy christening robes.

"Not really." He exhales, slow; his hand is shaking a little. "I doubt anyone but your stepmother would notice, anyway."

The thought gives you a sudden rush of satisfaction. Fuck, you do love him.

"I tried to quit for a while," he says after another breath, the smoke hovering in front of him, "then found I didn't really want to."

(You hope he isn't actually talking about cigarettes.)

"Better than me—I've never even tried to give it up."

(You, at least, are definitely not talking about cigarettes.)

"How have you been?" he asks.

(Miserable, then less miserable, then better, and now miserable all over again.)

"Good, actually. Haven't run myself out of business yet, so. That's something. How about you?"

"I was pretty lonely, for a while. New parish and all that. But it's not so bad now, and I quite like being so close to the water."

(You're happy that he's doing well, and also a little unhappy that he isn't doing worse.)

"That sounds nice, actually. And it's good of you, to have come all the way back for the christening. You didn't have to."

He's giving you a look. You hope it's the sort of look that means, yes, I did.

"Well, your stepmother can be awfully persistent."

"Yeah, well, she's a cunt."

He laughs at that, both amused and unsurprised. "I don't think I can mention that during my speech."

"No, probably not."

His own cigarette is nearly gone; you'll have to go inside, soon, and then the moment will be over. You really, really don't want it to be over.

"Do you ever think about moving back?" Your palms somehow feel very dry and very sweaty at once.

"Sometimes. Often, if I'm being honest, but—" he exhales instead of finishing the sentence. "There's plenty to keep me busy where I am now."

"And how's—God?" You're just fishing for time now. Badly. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Mostly the same. A bit disappointed in the state of the world, but still filled with an infinite capacity for love, forgiveness, et cetera."

"Right. I think I remember something like that in the Bible."

"Love, forgiveness, et cetera?"

"Exactly."

He laughs again, then pauses. "Do you still have it, then? The one I gave you, I mean."

(You know what he meant.)

"Yeah, I've got it somewhere." 

(In your nightstand, but he doesn't need to know that.)

He nods, then lets his own cigarette fall to the pavement.

"Well, I should—"

"You should probably—"

If you were braver, you might kiss him. If he were braver, he might kiss you. You don't really want him to leave, and he doesn't particularly look like he wants to go, but without being brave, neither of you knows what's supposed to happen next. He'd go back inside and then go back to his new parish, probably, and you'd never see him again. It's painful, how much you don't want that.

"Can I ask you something?"

He looks both curious and a little afraid for the question. "Yeah, of course."

He'll be going anyway, whether or not if you fuck this up. There's no reason not to try—other than that you're a little bit of a coward, but that's not really an excuse.

"You said it would pass." You feel a little dizzy. "Did it?" His jaw goes tight a little, like there's a wire running through it. "I'm just—curious, I guess." You take a slow breath. Fuck, what you wouldn't give for another cigarette right now, or an IV filled with whiskey. "Because it didn't, for me."

At that, he lets go of whatever tension he was holding in his jaw. He lets out a half-laugh that seems—relieved, almost. "No?"

You shake your head.

"No. It didn't for me, either. I feel like I've spent the last few years cheating on God—loving him and loving you."

There it is, in the open then. I love you, too.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You want to kiss him, or maybe have him fuck you against the wall. You think he probably would, too. It's exhausting, feeling this elated and miserable at once; by the time you go back inside, you hope the needle has landed on one or the other, you almost don't care which.

"What does that mean, then?"

He laughs again. "Fuck if I know. Like I haven't wasted two years trying to figure that out." He sighs, impossibly weary. "I still don't want to leave the church."

"Okay."

"But I don't want to spend any more time without you, either."

"Okay."

"It would help if you said anything else."

"I would, if I knew what else to say."

(Kiss me, fuck me, marry me—none of those are particularly solution-oriented, though.)

"It's been a while since we were friends. We might not like each other anymore."

(Bullshit. To the friends part and the not liking each other part.)

"Yeah, maybe."

"We could still end up hating each other."

(We wouldn't.)

"Also true."

"But—I could come back. See you again. See if this is still—"

(It is.)

"I'd like that."

He nods, weighty, like you were just discussing how to solve world hunger instead of whether or not he'll move a forty-minute drive back inland. 

"I should actually get back inside, now, before your stepmother castrates me—"

(Which would be a shame, now, after all that.)

"—but I'll be in touch? If you want?"

"I—yeah. Yes, I do."

He nods, and then he's stepping away, back towards the side door and the interior of the church. You wish he'd moved the other way, wish he'd push you up against the pitted brick wall and kiss you like it'd kill him to do anything else, but he doesn't. He's already in his fancy christening robes, after all, and it'd be a shame to wrinkle them now. Besides, you've waited two years. You can wait a few weeks or months more. You can wait, and then the two of you will figure out what happens next. He loves you as much as he loves God, and that already feels like a better place to start.

You brush the ash from your own dress and go back inside.

(You had said this was a love story.) 

[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and Melting Walls (3/8) “Making Adjustments”

General

Summary: Emile lets Remy take Virgil to work. Negotiations ensue.

Tags: Emile, Remy, cat virgil, mentions of kidnapping but no actual kidnapping, nervousness, cat treats, boxes, cute shit, snuggles, crushing on your boss, arguing with cats, remy is being salty all the time, swearing, bitch bitch remy, phone calls, mentions of work, ew social, Remy hates people but he is valid, loneliness, pining, subtle lovey lovey.

Virgil and Emile are referred to by they/them pronouns.

i do not think there is any to be applied. If you need me to add anything, please contact me here or on my tumblr (spacegayparty, spacegaywritings)

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 // all.

tumblr:  1 / 2 / 3 (you are here) / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8.

  My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Story under the cut // Word count: 4,4k

   “No.. I can’t. You don’t get it, I cannot come for the life of me!”

 Remy gripped the phone in his hand tighter. His knuckles turned white. Not once in his life had he even dreamed of a scenario of this sort. No nightmare could ever reach into the depth of his personal fears like this. He was enraged, somewhat nervous. One of his hands was on the couch scratch the smooth, cool surface.

Reality was much crueller than imagination could ever be. Real life wrote stories that nobody could come up with - history was the perfect piece of evidence. People fighting alligators and smuggling foxes or colour-coding genitals. Human society was so fucked up, people did not even realise it. The most unbelievable shit happened all the time.

 Right now, it was happening to him. Despite this, he tried, he really tried to get this right.

 “Remy, you can’t just tell me you are not coming and then not give me a reason. Is anything wrong? Do you need help?”

 Emile’s voice dropped from a somewhat sharp and scolding sound into the usually concerned sound. That pal was just made to care about others, weren’t they?

Even now they were more supposed to get upset and threaten him, when they were just worried about him. Remy wanted to roll his eyes at the display of pure wholesomeness but he did not have it in him to tease them about this.

 “Okay, listen here. I know that is a shit thing to do. You guys are not prepared to be without me but I got some kinda emergency here, honey. I can’t handle work right now, not with them around. Or not around - Sorry, boss.”

 The man carefully brushed over the kitten in his lap, the shivering little thing meowing pitifully. They were wailing out the feelings Remy gritted into his teeth.

 “Alright, alright- wait. Wait a minute right there. What do you mean? Is anyone holding you against your will? Remy, I am concerned about you.”

 Remy blinked for a moment at how much the whole conversation as much as Emile’s reactions to his words were a fucked over roller coaster that went back and forth and off-track periodically but irregularly so. It was unpredictable and honestly so draining. But understandably, the pal had some worries for their employees, especially Remy since he got into big piles of sick days due to his chronic migraines and physical issues. Still, it was a little absurd to expect him to be kidnapped. He was way to sassy to stay put.

 “Uh, I mean, I would like to go to work but staying at home always sounds nicer than, like, being productive. Sounds like a big nappy time to me, if you are asking me, honey.”

 Right after saying that, Remy realised that he was still sort of talking to his boss and probably should choose his words with at least a BIT more care, as of this moment. Emile was nice but they were not some dumb idiot who would let Remy do whatever with them.

 “Uh, okay. Let me explain, honey. I picked up this cat and I don’t know, like, whose it is and I put up those papers and put ads on PhotoAlbum in several groups (it was a lot of work, sweetie. Would not recommend. Totally busted my weekend! So rude.). I also posted to some page that deals with missing animals of this area and all that kinda shit. I still got, like, a sweet nothing and the cat is really sad and they won’t let me go out. I am - I don’t want to leave the cat alone. You know, Virgil might all up and fuck over my flat and I have nobody to babysit them - catsit them? Whatever.”

 Silence engulfed their phone call for a moment.

Remy was met with nothing but more little mewls which he quickly stilled by brushing further over their soft fur. Were cats supposed to have more dense fur than this? It felt a little thin, especially for winter coming up. Was that a black cat thing? The vet had not mentioned anything about that. Just to give the cat a stable and proper diet at, like, a scheduled time because stability. Which made sense and all but... Ugh, maybe he had to go there again or ask the internet or just get a book.

 Emile cleared his throat after a while.

The doctor really did know how to get some attention. For some unknown reason, it felt like one of the hottest things to Remy how the man could just draw the attention back to him with the most subtle gestures on this fucking planet. They were still considered to be nice and soft and all that kinda fun stuff when they were actually not just sweet and adorable. Emile could be serious and it was almost frightening to know them in control. 

 "Remy, if neither you nor your cat - " 

 "Virgil. Their name is Virgil." 

 "Alright. If you are healthy and so is Virgil, I don't think I can excuse you at work. As much as I would like to, you are our one and only receptionist." 

 Remy's heart fell and he let out an audible sigh. It felt like pushing bricks through his windpipe when he could have breathed regular oxygen. 

Whether his employer was hot or not, he couldn't just treat them like a friend or talk to them like some guy he wanted to hook up with. Okay, he kinda did but he tried to not listen to those thoughts. For once in a lifetime, Remy actually felt somewhat bad talking to Emile. He wanted to tell them off and never like his boss again. His chest was a fierce burning and he wanted them to regret being inconsiderate of the little kitten. 

 Didn’t they know Virgil was an abandoned stray? They were confused and all alone in the middle of winter in a big, heartless city!

 "I appreciate your honesty, still. But Remy, listen. If your cat is new and you are scared of leaving him -" 

 "They. Virgil gets they /hem pronouns because they are a special person and deserved not to be misgendered." 

 "Alright. If you don't want them to be home alone, how about we make work a little more home for hi- them." 

 Remy pressed his lips into a thin line. For a moment, he hummed in deliberation. 

 "What do you mean?" 

 Virgil meowed on his chest and patted the phone in interested. Remy was sure they wanted to play. Emile received a little thud on their end.

 "We keep your door closed and a little darker and hang up signs for people to try and be quiet so they can sleep. Cats sleep almost all day. Much more than we need." 

 The receptionist nodded but realised that Emile could probably not see that. 

 "Sounds okay." 

 Emile let out a hum. 

 "You would really do that? I'll get ready and come over with them." 

 His boss let out a laugh. Remy's queer heart was blooming in delight. Maybe they were not bad. They just had obligations too and these needed to be fulfilled. Other than Remy, Emile was running a business and needed his employees. Remy only had a void on his lap and softness in his heart.

 Of course! Why didn't Remy think about that. Any kind of doctor needed to take an oath, swearing to protect all life. Emile had to prioritise their clients. 

 The cat meowed and Emile giggled again. 

 "Hello Virgil! See you later, I hope" 

 Remy's heart was beating so fast, he nearly swooned loud enough for Emile to hear him. His eyes closed and the sugar-sweet smile on his face refused to leave. Instead, it revelled on his lips for another few moments. 

 "I'll pack up and see you in a few." 

 Emile smiled, unbeknownst to Remy.

 “Can’t wait to see you at work, Remy.”

 *

 Upon arrival, Virgil ducked away and cuddled up to Remy's chest. They were snuggled up under his jacket which they shared with Remy. Such a humble gesture. Whenever the cat heard a sound, they cuddled closer and flinched away from any source of sound other than Remy. 

His footsteps? All okay. 

Someone coughing? Fucking illegal. 

 Remy was more than happy to know he brought about as much food and little things for Virgil to ease up and calm down. It should ease them up. But he couldn't change the smell and make it more comfortable for the cat to relax faster instead of hiding away a lot. 

It was still a wonder to him that Virgil was so trustworthy with him but then again, they all assumed they had been socialised before. But he didn't find a single person claiming to own the little void. Not yet, at least.

 The man walked over to his little "office" only to be stopped from stepping inside. 

A sign, as promised. But that one wasn't for the others to be quiet. It was for him to move into the bigger office. 

 “Reception moved to the main office.”

 .. The main office was much bigger and Remy didn't know how Emile made it a usable working space for him and at the same time an adequate living space for Virgil but he would give it a try. If not, he would need to get some student to catsit his baby for a few hours every day. It wasn't like he desperately needed these bucks, anyway. It was okay. And he was willing and happy to spend it on his Virgil when they needed it more. He himself was glad, already. He had books and nice things but Virgil had nobody and had yet to be picked up by their original home.

 A happy void was a good void and he wanted his void to be their best at all times. At least for the time being.

 Virgil meowed and pawed at Remy. There was hesitation in their movement and after that, they stayed quiet as if to wait for their friend to reply to their request. The man just gently hushed the kitten by stroking over their black fur and humming a bit, quietly so.

The surroundings were so white, so new and it smelled of stingy disinfectant sprays and other things. One of the walls was pastel pink. It was not just cold but also warm but not warm like Remy was warm. Or Virgil, for that matter. He was just glad to wear his sunglasses loyally.

 Virgil curled further into the black jacket.

 “It’s okay, Queen, you will be fine”, he promised.

 He made it to the office. The only time he had been in this place was when he had applied for this position not too long ago. A few years, maybe. This was Emile’s personal office. He was standing in his office and his things were in here. Emile usually did not have too many things around but the pictures and the pastel walls were giving off a warm vibe. Again, it was not the Remy-kind of warmth but it was warm nonetheless and it made him feel funny things he could not quite place.

Sometimes he forgot there was more than his own working space. That, and the fact that Emile had his own practice close to his home. He had probably been here early and had used the time to move furniture and accommodate Remy.

 Literally, what kind of employer would ever do this?

 This office was innocent and playful like going to the kindergarten or being on a swing. It was simple and natural. Natural despite pastels being a little less naturally occurring, especially in a city like the one they were living in. Still, it was a soft colour and had some sort of soothing effect on him.

 Remy carefully nudged the door close behind him and brought Virgil over to the table where he was supposed to sit and work. The desk was larger and the wood looked like oak, perhaps. He was not the type of guy to know much about things. He just liked books and partying. He was a simple soul.

 But his boss? He seemed to mind. Emile must haven taken time to invest in a certain vibe this office would convey. Maybe it was a psychology thing It calmed him down for sure.

 Now, while the walls and pictures screamed Emile, they also hummed Remy’s tone. His desk was filled with little pictures and decorations he had brought to make himself more at home.

That was about the only delight he could relish in, working as an assistant or secretary or however people wanted to call his profession. Whatever, he was just there to welcome clients and give them some treatment plans he had printed according to Emile’s orders. Sometimes he would make appointments with people and negotiate about finances and payment plans. He checked prescriptions and other things, too. He mostly took care of all the social interactions beside the actual treatment Emile gave.

 Yeah, Emile had it all figured out and believe it or not, Remy was actually great at keeping some order together and be somewhat effective with people. He kept track of every person and their schedules. He just knew which days to propose and which days, dates and times were impossible due to things such as soccer practice for the kids or school or religious rituals and family traditions.

 Say whatever you want, Remy was good enough at his job to keep it yet still flip off enough people.

 However, now he needed to settle down and enjoy the new space.

Or, well, absolutely hate how much it smelled of Emile and how it felt warm like them and their sweaters. Having the hots for his boss or uh, higher-up, was definitely the best thing to ever happen to him. Maybe not the best but it was entertaining to say the least. Virgil, on the other hand, was quite..quiet.

 The smol kitten was put onto the desk with care. Remy was handling a precious piece of creature right there after all. He watched them for a moment, the cat just crouching down and looking at him with wide, heterochromatic eyes.

Right into his heart and soul.

 “I love you too, royal stray. Now let me work before I get fired, Queen of salt”, Remy offered and let his bag down.

 He made some space, turned on the computer and gently nudged the cat. Virgil refused to budge and stayed put in front of the keyboard.

 “Kitten, I gotta work. Wanna sit on my lap? You can cuddle with me while I work.”

 Remy looked at them but there was no answer. Were cats the clever ones? Or was this dogs?

Well, whatever, it’s not like Virgil would just suddenly all up and speak actual words. This was not a magical place after all, it was just a boring office.

Or a warm office, actually. Not that it really mattered. (It did, to him.)

 “Caaat, come on, I need to work.”

 Remy put his arms around Virgil to at least type his log-in data into the computer and get his whole shit set up and finally started. After some time, he could start receiving calls and schedule things again. It was bad enough he was so late. He probably had a ton of emails to check about how some people needed to reschedule something or needed an extra appointment, maybe even an emergency one.

 People, right?

 Nothing was ever right with people, it was inconsistent. Apparently, cats were not really as consistent either.

Maybe living things just sucked and Remy did not know how to deal with that.

The black blob of fur was still unmoving and even with the arms awkwardly surrounding them, they would not take any more action than purring.

 Purring. Fucking purring.

 “Virgil, come on. Quit your bullshit and move, you are not supposed to be comfortable in my working space.”

 “Meow”

 “Yeah, meow you too, little bitch.”

 Remy rolled his eyes, looking for his brain so he could interrogate why the fuck he was actually arguing with a cat. Like talking to his brain was actually more sensible than discussing things with a cat and somewhat expecting a rational answer.

 “Okay, Queen, how about that: We can find you a box. You like boxes and I should have a box here - for paper. I swear, I will go totally feral if they threw this away. Anyway, I will just take away the paper and you can get all comfortable in the box, just like at my place.”

 Virgil looked at him, purring and vibrating in interest. The sparkling eyes fixed on the man and Remy nodded. The void seemed to be pleased by this suggestion. Remy was allowed to breathe around the feral beast for a little longer. Great. 

The secretariat let himself drop into his swivel chair and he quickly rolled over to the printer and took the stash of printing paper out for the sake of making space for his kitty friend. Damn yes, he was glad Emile had not thrown this away. He would have trusted them to do such things.

 “Oh Virgil~”, he purred out in a voice akin to songs more than simple words, “come here, kitty kitty.”

 The kitten looked over, tail swishing around for a moment. They looked as if they were ready to get up and maybe even cooperate for a second. What a day of fucking miracles.

 Remy experimentally patted the box and Virgil slowly moved over, purring still and with passion It sounded like the whole room was driven by the engine that was nothing but Virgil’s curious sounds. They were unique and even if Remy was sighing in exasperation at how much time the cat took to INSPECT AN EMPTY BOX OF CARDBOARD, he was smiling.

 Eventually, Virgil was done sniffing and patting the box with paws and nose. They actually stepped into the small space and settled into the space like cat pudding.

Wasn’t there some stupid shit of cats being liquid? He did not remember it quite well but he was sure there was something like that.

 “There you go, little void. I got a treat for you, you are doing so well.”

 He quickly pulled a little snack out of his bag and handed it to his kitten who took it immediately.

Virgil’s nose was twitching for a moment and their little teeth crunched on the small treat as if this was the most festive and fancy meal they would ever receive. Those teeth looked like straight out of some vampire novel.

But was that shit really so tasty for cats?

 ..He kinda wanted to try that but he was human and he would probably hate that shit. He also kinda felt odd about the idea of eating Virgil’s food. He had his own food, seriously. He had such dummy thicc ideas sometimes.

 “You are the best little void”, Remy cooed and softly bonked their heads together.

 Virgil’s insistent purring gradually seeped into the human. Closing his eyes, Remy just stayed in place and brushed his hand through the little kitten’s charcoal fur for a little while longer. It was warm. Warm like hugs were warm and drinking hot chocolate or similar drinks that made him feel fuzzy and sleepy.

Maybe he met the kitty cat in winter, so he would be warmer and not the cat themself.

  “You two sure look comfortable!~”

 Remy ripped himself away from the dark kitten, his head whipping around so quickly, he could hear it giving off the sound of something breaking. Oops, neck. Sorry, not sorry. His reaction was so quick and violent, someone might have thought he was a teenager whose parents walked in on him pleasing himself. As expected (yet somewhat at the same time, not really), the boss themself was standing there and looking at Remy and Virgil cuddling. Emile chuckled but apologised at the scare they had driven into the others.

 The coffee-lover could do no more but raise an eloquent eyebrow instead of stuttering up some weak apology. He was not about that kind of speech anyway. Too much work. Instead, he was the type of person to, well, arch an eyebrow at his boss.

Virgil’s colourful eyes were focused on the intruder. They stared into Emile’s soul. 

 “Virgil is doing okay”, he replied as he pulled up his work email account and scheduling programme to put the things together.

 Oh dear coffee bean, he still needed to check voice mail for all the info he had missed. Emile pressed their lips into a thin line for a moment before letting them pop back out.

 “You know, you can tell me these things first things in the morning instead of not coming and sending me ominous texts. I am more than inclined to helping you when I know that you are in need of certain accommodations.”

 Remy nodded but kept his eyes on the screen. For a brief moment, the man glanced over at his boss and clicked his tongue. He acknowledged them for just long enough to be somewhat polite.

 “Thanks.”

 He shrugged and Virgil meowed…in agreement?

 “Aw your kitten is so cute! Where did you get them again?”

 The doctor came into the office and slowly approached the kitten. Their back arched a bit, making them smaller. Virgil shrunk away from them and their ears changed position.

 Remy gingerly grabbed the little box of void and pulled them closer in. The kitten’s eyes widened and their body tensed, seemingly jumping into a position to pounce onto the intruder or flee within the blink of an eye. If need be, they were prepared.

The man gently eased the kitten with small movements. He brushed the fur down until the void was in a more regular position but their small muscle strands were still obviously tensed up under his displays of affection.

 “They are shy. I found them around the trash in a side alley on my way home”, he explained curtly as he gently consoled the kitten who settled into the box once more.

 Safe box, good box.

Best little void.

 Remy was so proud of them for relaxing and trusting him. The flee stance was away and the cat did not look like they were a small kindergarten kid some big adult suddenly started yelling at for apparently no understandable reason. The kitten was doing well.

 “It’s okay, little Queen, bad Em will bow to your wishes, little darling.”

 Emile straightened their posture and smiled at the two before them, waving.

Could they do anything better than wave? They felt like an outsider watching an intimacy they would never be a part of. Like a child watching the perfect family from the other side of the window.

It was so warm and so far away. The own world was so cool.

 Yet it was another kind of warm. Not smiles and soft words warm, it was more than reassurance and paid trust. There was a whole relationship in this warmth. It had established within just a few days. The time span was so strikingly short, the individual was genuinely shocked to have missed so much of Remy’s life in just a moment.

 Emile pressed their lips together again and sighed.

 “I just wanted to let you know that you can have the office if that helps. I will stack cat food and toys for the kitten, if you want to. I hope that helps you accommodate. But I need you to help me plan the refurbishment of your old office, then. Got any time during lunch break?”

 Remy shrugged.

 “I mean, if I do not have to catch up on anything else, sure. I cannot go out with Virgil. This is too much for them.”

 He glanced at them and gently pulled the kitten-box closer to his stomach.

 “You okay there?”

 Virgil meowed and was rewarded yet another pat on the head. The cat pushed against the gentle hand, eyes squeezed shut. Remy looked at them instead of his boss.

 “Okay, good. Now let me work, you demanding little bitch. I got your business to handle and finances to take care of.”

 The cat slowly blinked at him and he chuckled. Emile cleared his throat.

 “Good then. I’ll leave you to it.”

 “Yeah whatever”, he cooed before he redirected his attention to the screen before him where he started scanning the first emails with plan changes. His right put down the notes of it with little abbreviations. Mrs. Shuster was probably running late again. He really needed to have a talk about this with Emile.

 Talking about this, the pal was still standing there, abandoned eyes on the unattending Remy. He was patting Virgil with one hand and started clicking and reading at incredibly fast speed with his other hand.

Emile did not notice they were staring, standing still as they were captivated by the simple scene before them. When Remy’s cool eyes, shaded by sunglasses, suddenly looked at them, they realised they had yet to leave.

 “Anyway, I gotta get this stuff done. Need anything else?”

 His boss shook their head with a smile softer than butter in the sun.

 “I will leave you two to it. See you later, Remy, Virgil.”

 They nodded their head at each name and looked at the two. The void was basically invisible under the desk and in Remy’s lap.

Just safe and protected as the needed it.

 Emile left, swallowing the odd tightness in their throat.

[fibrofox]

I've always been an ambitious person. In grade 11 (2013/14), the school counselor asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. My answer?

a) Attain my Ph.D in a science (neuroscience or another biology related field)

b) Become Prime Minister of Canada

or

c) Become secretary general of the UN.

Well, I haven't gotten any degrees, joined a political party, been elected, or anything like that. I decided that veterinary medicine was what I wanted to pursue. I loved the hands on work, the science, and the figuring out what's wrong with this patient aspect of working in vet med.

I've had headaches most of my life, but they got worse after a concussion in 2015. My menstrual cycle has also been problematic. I remember in the eighth grade, I was lying on the floor in gym class because of the pain. The teacher asked me if there was any way I could be pregnant, because I looked worse than her friend who was in the hospital with morning sickness. I said no, I've never even kissed a boy.

I was seeing a neurologist in the summer of 2016 for my headaches, who suggested I try Botox. Thirty-two needles and a ton of anxiety later, my migraines were bearable, enough that I was able to go to college. The Botox made it so my headaches were less severe and less frequent... For a while.

By January 2017, the Botox was no longer helping, at all. I tried the injections again, and while waiting for them to work, I missed 5 weeks of school. At that point, I had no hope of catching up, so I withdrew from college. I was then put on amitriptyline, and gained 20lbs over the next few months. I fell into a deep depression. If I was unable to go to college, and unable to even function like a remotely normal human, what the hell was the point in living? I felt like a financial and emotional drain on my family and significant other. My neurologist said that since the Botox stopped working, there was nothing else he could do for me. This was the person who was supposed to solve my problems. Not even the doctor who had gone to post-secondary for over a decade could fix me, or even suggest how to move forward. As you can imagine, this made me extremely angry.

I don't really remember much of 2017 after I withdrew from college. There was a few fun events (a wedding, a trip to the city with my boyfriend). I eventually was able to work 2 half days a week at a antique store. The ONLY reason I was able to work was because my boss was incredibly understanding. There were days I would get a migraine halfway through getting ready for work, and he was always okay with me not coming in, even at the last minute. Despite the immense guilt I felt for calling in sick, having a job gave me a sense of purpose, albeit small.

In 2018, I finally got into a pain program. There, I saw a nurse practitioner who said my symptoms sounded like fibromyalgia. I didn't realise that normal people aren't exhausted all the time, or have body aches, or brain fog. For the past few years, I thought I just wasn't trying hard enough. I thought if I just pushed myself harder, or thought more positively, I would be able to lead a normal life. I blamed myself for not being able to finish college. I had no idea all my symptoms were NOT normal. I didn't realise normal 21 year olds don't need a 3 hour nap after vacuuming. Until August 2018, all of my symptoms were treated as separate issues.

I was soon diagnosed with fibromyalgia by my family doctor, and started a new medication. At the same time, I started a new part time job; one that I could do 85% of it from my bed, and the other 15% was one day a week. Within a few weeks of being on my new medication, I noticed I wasn't fatigued as easily, and that I had more energy. I still slept most of the day after a busy work day, but I was ABLE to function every Wednesday from noon until 10PM. This was something I hadn't been able to do for almost 2 years. I started taking online classes, just one at a time.

Like I told my therapist, I like a sticky brain. I firmly believe in being a lifelong learner, and I know I'm at my best when I'm filling my head with knowledge. Summer 2018 I had a good sized garden. I've read that having your hands in the dirt is good for your mental health, and being surrounded by plants and butterflies and a cool breeze on a hot summer's day does wonders for one's sense of self. Covered in dirt in a sundress is the most comfortable I am. Sure, my back aches after spending 5 minutes pulling stubborn weeds or dodging thorns in the raspberry bush, but it was going to be sore laying in bed too.

From gardening, I planted new goals. Goals like being kind and understanding. Goals like learning about chicken behaviour or knitting a new scarf. Making candles or trying a new recipe. Reading a new book. Understanding the world a bit more.

I still need opioid pain relief. I still have severe migraines. There's still days when I can't get out of bed because my body is simultaneously on fire and frozen solid. I'm still angry it took so long to find out what's wrong with me. I'm angry that I'm stuck with this for life. I still long to go back to college. At least now I have a word, instead of “I feel like a steaming pile of garbage ALL THE TIME” I also have attainable goals. This year I'm trying to grow more flowers and veggies. I'm trying to read more. I'm working on a children's book. I'm writing more, and listening more. Fibro is a life sentence (for now), but how I choose to deal with it is up to me. So I choose to continue searching for a reason to stay alive. I focus on what I CAN control (like which varieties of tomatoes I plant).

Some days the only reason I get up is because I know my chickens rely on me for food and water. Some days I want nothing more than to not wake up; to not have to face another day in a body that tries to self destruct.

I don't know what my purpose in life is. I don't know if I even have one. But I'll keep on trying. Because the sun will rise, and I will try again.