#I am not a doctor I just took biology twice

[little-pondhead]

The Folly of Men -

Chapter 1: #355E3B

AO3 - MASTERPOST

[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]

[Fair warning, guys: Canon is a ball pit, and I’m throwing a baby into it. I have no clue what's happening. Feel free to point out mistakes!]

-

Danny was starting to hate the color green. It was the color of death.

Green reminded him of the portal that killed him, and the electricity that was constantly humming under his skin. It reminded him of being on the wrong end of an ecto-blaster and having to dodge for dear life. It reminded him of choking plants that swallowed him whole and tried to turn him into fertilizer. It reminded him of his glowing eyes and how they seemed to take up his entire face when he looked at himself in the mirror.

And right now, as he lay weakly on his side, grasping at fresh wounds with shaky fingers as he tried to ice them closed, the green blood that was splattered everywhere reminded him he wasn’t human.

Not anymore.

-

Green was a familiar color to Ra’s al Ghul. It was the color of life. 

Green reminded him of the Lazarus Pits, mostly. When it was the reason he’d lived such a long life, how could it not be the first thing he thought of? Green also reminded him of his cloak and the warmth it wrapped him in during the cold desert nights when his wife was still alive. Of the beauty he saw in the natural world and why he wanted to protect it. It reminded him of his green eyes that have been passed down through his very few children and grandchildren. Green was the color of the al Ghuls and represented the power he’d amassed through centuries of hard work. 

And right now, as he stood before the Well of Sins, Ra’s was reminded of a secret contract that was buried deep within his personal records, and the monster he’d made it with. The Gardener, the creature called itself, was a being who had crawled out of a Lazarus Pit years ago in search of Ra’s. Its flesh was made from thorny vines and grasses intertwined, and its eyes were tiny red blooms that glowed and made him feel sick just thinking about it. It had forced him into the contract, exchanging power and knowledge in return for a promise of help in the near future. 

‘Near future,’ my ass. Timothy Drake's fleeting voice flickered in his mind, and he could only agree with his subconscious's crude words. It seemed like the only appropriate term as it had already been several centuries since the contract was made, and the being had yet to claim its part of the deal.

He watched, mind racing, as the Well of Sins started swirling frantically. He was alone, with his attendants on standby. Should he call them in? No. Whatever was causing the strange reaction in the pool had something to do with that contract. He could feel it. A power was tugging at his heart, drawing him closer to the edge of the green waters. He loathed to admit it, but this was beyond his scientific understanding. He just knew that every time he tried to look away and leave, his whole body felt like it was alight with flame.

So he stood. And he stared. For hours, possibly, before the first sign of something new caught his attention. A screeching sound was echoing from the bottom of the pool. It slowly got louder and higher pitched as the stone floor started glowing so bright Ra's almost risked the pain of glancing away.

A large head was making its way through the bottom of the pool. It went slowly to accommodate large shoulders, followed by a wide chest and narrow waist. The figure paid no mind to the churning of the Well of Sins and broke the surface of the waters with the ease of a seasoned swimmer. The screeching sound echoed wildly, bouncing unnaturally throughout the chamber, sounding more like incomprehensible words. Ra's wanted to plug his ears with wax and banish the figure back where it came from. Instead, he didn't even twitch an eye.

The Gardener stood before him. And it was carrying a body.

"Master of Lazarusss," it hissed, inclining its head in acknowledgment, but making no move to exit the pool. "Too long has it been, has it not? I've come to collect on my part of the deal."

Ra's nodded in return. Higher being or not, he refused to bow to anyone. "I've expected this, Gardener." He said roughly. Despite learning their language years ago, the sharp chirps and clicks made by the dead were difficult to sound out. It was like he was trying to mimic a broken radio. "Although it's taken longer than I expected for your arrival."

The Gardener clicked its beak in annoyance. "Don't give me flowery words, Pretender. It was not my choice whether to appear before you or not. The Scepter of our realm visited me long ago and commanded me thus; I only now see her vision behind it."

"I...see." He did not see, thank you very much. That was more information in two sentences than he'd ever managed to get from the Gardener. Were there others at play in this little contract of theirs? He did not like the idea of that. "And I assume this whole thing has something to do with the boy in your arms?"

The Gardener let out a low humming sound that seemed to originate from its chest and echo in Ra’s bones. It glanced down, turning the body over gently to let Ra's see his face. The boy was just a child, no older than sixteen. He was deathly pale and seemed eerily stiff, just as if rigor mortis had set in. His white hair was plastered to his forehead from the water, and his clothes were nothing more than rags. Thick green blood was leaking from several wounds and pooling underneath his skin. It wasn't hard to guess what the Gardener was about to ask.

"This is our Guardian and one of the last of his kind. His haunt is not safe anymore, and I task you with his care for the foreseeable future."

Without waiting for a response, the Gardener sloshed forward to set the boy oh-so-gently upon the edge of the pool, taking care that his thorns did not pierce the child. A few vines cupped his face gently as if the Gardener was sad about the boy's state of being.

The assassin made no move to step forward and claim him. "What iske?" He asked. Ra’s voice caught on the last syllable, and he had to repeat the question again properly. Annoying.

The Gardener didn’t seem to mind and just stepped back, relinquishing its hold completely. "He is our Guardian." It repeated. "Care for him well. His fraid will be on the hunt for him and return any harm tenfold. But earn his loyalty, and the power of the Infinite Realms will be at your fingertips. Good luck, Master of Lazarus."

With that, the Gardener disappeared beneath the waves of the Well of Sins, and the waters calmed. The only proof that someone had been there was the sopping wet teen that lay at Ra's feet.

Ra's stared at the boy. The tugging in his heart was a bind, he realized. And it was tying him to the boy. Well, caring for a dead child shouldn't be that hard. Despite his disagreement with Talia over the matter, Jason Todd had turned out just fine, hasn’t he?

With the contract heavy on his mind, Ra's turned and left the boy lying there, clicking his jaw and calling for his attendants to collect him. The Lazarus Pits had gifted him with a new heir, it seemed.

-

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

In another world, a redheaded girl was on the edge of a rampage. Her scream echoed down the suburban street her house was on, and the neighbors sighed quietly and locked their windows shut, not realizing the severity of the question. They were used to this family's antics, and the girl's screaming as a result.

But this could not be written off as 'family antics.'

Jasmine Fenton, nicknamed ‘Jazz,’ was positively furious. Red-faced, she stood before her parents with steam coming from her ears and a bat in hand. 

“Jazzy-pants, we-” her father tried.

“Nope!” Jazz put up a hand to stop him. “Never mind, I don’t want to hear it. I already know.” 

She whirled around, tuning out her parents' protests as she stormed through their house. Correction, her parent’s house. If she had her way, Jazz would never see these metal and unloving walls ever again. Neither would her brother, once she found him. 

Her phone rang, and she flipped it open with a snap, leaving the bat at the end of the hallway. Only a few people had her number, and it sure as hell wasn’t her parents calling her. “What.” She barked, shoving the phone between her shoulder and ear as she dug through Danny’s closet. His bug-out bag hadn’t been moved. 

“It’s Tucker.”

“We have a code green and a code yellow.” She ground out. Good, the ecto-dejecto shots were up to date. The less time she spends in that god-forsaken lab, the better. 

“Fuck.” Tucker swore. Rustling was heard and she heard another voice in the background. “I’m putting you on speaker.” 

Jazz re-packed the bag quickly, adding in some non-essentials that she knew Danny would appreciate. After it was settled on her shoulders, she switched the phone back to her hand for a better grip. “Is Sam there?”

“I’m here.” The girl responded. 

Jazz tripped over her bedroom carpet in her rush to her room. She cursed but recovered and started ransacking her closet and drawers. “Good. One of you needs to contact Danielle. Our parents sold Danny out, and the GIW took him while I was gone yesterday. I’m going ghost and getting him back. Tell Danielle she’s in danger since they have her ecto-signature now.”

“We’re going with you.” Sam said firmly. There was more rustling, and Jazz guessed they were looking for their own emergency bags. “I don’t care how long it takes; we’ll get him back.” 

“Are you going to shut down the portal?” Tucker asked. 

Jazz paused, considering it. In the original plan, Danny was in charge of shutting down the portal while Jazz and the others took care of the Fentons, GIW, and everything else. It was personal for him; his final resting place. But now that Danny was missing, and they needed a reliable escape route. 

“Not permanently.” She decided. “I’ll figure out how to turn it off temporarily, or put a shield up, but Danny will need to be the one to make that call.” 

Tucker started typing furiously on his laptop, muttering under his breath until he got to the file he wanted. “Sam and I will take care of the town defenses, and Dani’s on her way from New Zealand. She’ll be here in a few hours. I’m sending you a bug; plug it into the Fenton’s security systems, and it’ll lock them out of the house for now. Only do it after you’re done in the labs. Sam’s gone off and is pulling some strings to get all the ghosts in town back to the Zone. I’ll start tracking Danny and shutting down all the Fenton and GIW equipment I can find.”

“Thanks, Tucker. I’ll meet you guys at Nasty Burger in two hours; pass that message to Danielle.”

“Sure thing. Oh, and Jazz?”

“Yeah, Tuck?” Jazz started counting her hidden wads of cash, making sure it was all there. They never wanted to believe the Fentons would go this far, but she was glad they’d made contingency plans just in case. 

She could hear Tucker’s silent snarl as he said his parting remark. “Leave enough of them behind for the rest of us.”

Jazz laughed, a little hysterical. “I’ll try.” She said, bidding him farewell. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure she could look at her parents ever again. But she knew, deep in her bones, that if they tried to stop her, there wouldn’t even be ashes left from the hell she would raise. 

-

Gotham was caught in a storm. It was one of those ugly, howling summer storms that threw water in your eyes and bit your skin with a vengeance. Damian squinted, trying to make out the sight of Spoiler and Signal through the rain, but even their bright uniforms were lost in the shadows.

He tightened his grip on his grappling hook as a particularly harsh wind tried to throw him around like a ragdoll. Water seeped into his collar, making him shiver. A beep echoed in his ear, and he risked taking one hand off the line to answer his comms.

"Robin," Oracle was practically shouting in his ear over the storm. "Signal made it to the Cave. Spoiler is rounding up Condiment King, and then she'll do the same. You can go back now."

Damian tsked. "Father is still out here," he replied. "I shall not return until he does."

"Robin-" Oracle sighed.

Another gust of wind made him grunt, and he cut the call to refocus on scaling the building. The only good thing that came from such a wild storm was that most of the villains were smart enough to stay inside. Splitting up in such conditions always left a sour taste in his mouth, but Damian understood it was necessary to cover as much ground as possible during times of emergency.

He wasn't sure this counted as an emergency, but Todd was certainly treating it as such. The citizens of Crime Alley were being hit hard. Enough to the point where Red Hood had openly invited the Bats onto his turf to help with the flooding and evacuation from some unstable buildings. Batman and Red Robin had gone, leaving Robin and Orphan to cover their patrol routes.

Finally, finding purchase on the rough brick, Damian quickly hauled himself up to safety. Some of his equipment was ruined, and his costume was soaked. Truly, this storm had come out of nowhere.

His comms clicked back to life. "Robin." Cain's clipped tone was somehow louder than Oracle's voice.

"I'm here," he replied, scowling at the oily mud on his shoes. Damned pollution.

"Home," Orphan said simply.

Damian scowled even harder. He could argue with Oracle without issue, but he barely won when it came to speaking with Orphan. "...Fine." He sniffed. "I shall return."

"Good." Damian could hear the smile in her voice. "Agent A has cocoa."

"I'll consider it." He said stiffly. He imagined his adoptive sister smiling slyly and glancing toward the sky before the comms switched off, leaving him to his thoughts again. After checking his grapple to ensure it still worked, he started picking his way through the building at a snail's pace, letting himself get distracted whenever he spotted someone in trouble. The Batcave would be warmer and dryer than the streets, but not everyone had a dry place to return to. Every little bit helped in the long run, and even Damian wouldn't pass by a lost child in the rain.

The only thing that bothered him more than the dark clouds overhead and fresh hail on the way home was the unnatural feeling on his spine. It felt like someone was watching him, judging him. But when he looked, nobody was there.

-

The stars were gone.

Danny felt weightless as he floated, staring at the space where the stars were supposed to be. He felt lighter than normal. Danny was surrounded by colors that flowed and ebbed like the tide, taking him deeper into this mysterious space. Golden fish and silver deer wove past him as fire and ice trailed behind, and yet he couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to get up. He just laid there silently. A bone deep exhaustion was settling into him, but sleep refused him.

“Ghost Child.”

Oh, Danny was dreaming. He was already asleep.

He didn’t turn his head, nor acknowledge when the stars returned to his line of sight. The stars wrapped around him like a curtain, cutting off the rest of the dreamscape. Two bright eyes, burning like red giants, peered down at him as thin hands cupped his body.

“Ghost Child.” The voice repeated again, speaking in his mind even as the words were swallowed by the silence of space.

Danny turned his head slowly. “Nocturn,” he murmured. These too, were snatched from his throat and lost. The cold seeped into his chest and he hiccuped. He couldn’t speak. Not that he really wanted to.

Luckily, Nocturn seemed to understand him just fine. He cradled Danny gently, bringing him closer to his chest. Something shifted in the fabric of space, and suddenly Danny was being laid to rest on the smooth stone of a crescent moon, as pearly white as his own hair. He sighed as the coolness of the moon seeped into his body, soothing aches and burns he didn’t remember getting.

“Where are we?” He wanted to ask.

Nocturn blinked slowly at him, his face twisted down towards Danny. His ram’s horns glinted as a glowing blue jay landed on them and started preening itself. Danny wanted to fly with the bird. His body didn't move.

“Sleep, Ghost Child.” Nocturn hummed. The moon vibrated beneath Danny, soothing the electric currents that kept him awake no matter what he did. Danny’s eyes started sliding shut as Nocturn’s song wrapped around him like a lullaby.

The others… Danny’s mind whispered.

Are safe. The song replied. Rest, young guardian. Your people are safe. You did well.

That was all he needed to hear. Danny let himself fall into slumber, relief flooding his mind. Yes, his people were safe. He did well. He deserved some rest.

As the young ghost fell into a dreamless sleep, a real sleep, Nocturn gently tucked the boy in with a blanket made from his own starry robes, shifting the fabric once more to hide away his core, and the boy who was resting on it. The bluejay on his head chirped indignantly from the movement and flew away, leaving a trail of smoke behind.

Nocturn paid it no mind. Warnings from Fate were never a good idea to ignore, but the bird was but a memory of a life that had long since passed. It only stuck around because of the dreams that kept feeding it. The ghost let his lullaby continue as he returned to his work, taking care to move slowly.

Undergrowth was taking care of his physical body, so he would care for the boy's mind. Vortex was off to round up the little ghostlings who had scattered like dandelion seeds, and the Master of Time was keeping an eye on the rest of Phantom's fraid while they rampaged in the mortal realms. After the stunt he pulled to protect the Realms, it was the least the elder ghosts could do.

-

"Is the boy awake?" Ra's asked sharply, entering the private rooms he had set aside for the boy.

The attending nurse, an older man born with no tongue, bowed his head and signed, 'No, sir. Vitals are off. He is a cold corpse.'

Ra's regarded the boy. It has been several weeks since the Gardener dropped the boy off in his care, and he hadn't awoken once throughout the entire time. He truly looked like a regular dead teenager, if you exclude the unnaturally white hair.

The Demon's Head bent over the boy's bed, tugging open an eyelid to see if he would react. Nothing. However, he noted the boy's eyes were green, which he was mildly pleased about. Green was such a lovely color, and this boy seemed surrounded in it.

A sharp knock echoed from the door, and Ra's granted the other party permission to enter. His best phlebotomist, a man named Paz, entered, holding a stack of papers as thick as his thumb. He bowed to Ra's as soon as he saw him.

"The results?" Ra's asked.

Paz immediately handed over his work, fully confident that Ra's understood everything he'd written. "For all purposes, the boy is dead." He said in a thick accent. He spoke in halted Arabic, as he'd only lived in 'Eth Alth'eban for a short time. "He has no circulation. No heart to move blood, or lungs to breathe. We must move him every hour to prevent postmortem lividity. He has undergone an extensive autopsy process, but it seems it was stopped before his brain was removed. No organs remain in his body otherwise.”

Ra's examined the papers. They were reports from different scientists and doctors, all of whom had been assigned to examine and work on the boy. Most of them said the same thing. The boy was dead and had been for a while. If the Well of Sins didn't do anything when he first exited the waters, what good would it do now?

He flicked his eyes up. "But you think otherwise," he stated.

Paz nodded enthusiastically. "The boy is dead, but his blood is alive!" He tapped a green folder that was poking out from the bottom of the pile. Ra's shuffled the papers off to the nurse and opened it. Printed off charts had been scribbled over with Paz’s frantic notes, documenting his thought process.

The phlebotomist rambled excitedly as his boss read his work, gesturing wildly. “It’s incredible! Most of his red blood cells have died off, and he has an abnormal amount of white blood cells, which indicate some kind of infection. But his plates-“

‘Platelets.’

“Platelets,” Paz nodded his thanks to the nurse for correcting his speech. “The boy’s platelets are still alive, and are actually trying to heal his injuries! We recorded a time-lapse last week to confirm it. The process is incredibly slow, even compared to human healing, but there’s a difference! Because of the absence of red blood cells, the plasma left in his body has practically doubled in volume, even though there’s no circulation to keep it moving. We’ve noticed a collection of stem cells at the base of his skull has started growing as well, and whatever it’s producing is being released into the body at regular intervals.”

“What kind of cells are they?”

“Unsure. At first, we thought it was cancerous in nature.” Paz tapped the corner of the folder again, prompting Ra’s to turn the page. “And while these cells are certainly growing as fast as unchecked cancer, rather than doing harm, we’ve taken samples and noted that they’re merging with whatever original matter has been left in the boy’s body. Bonding, like glue! The healing process is periodically speeding up with every release, the plasma has started circulating on its own, and the white blood cell count is diminishing. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s filling in for everything that’s missing, and keeping what is there, alive. Dr. Vanessa hypothesized that within the month, it may even start replacing the boy’s organs.”

Ra’s looked up from the research. “These photos look like plant cells, is this an example or actual recordings of the activity?”

Paz wrinkled his nose. “Those are evidence of the activity. For some reason, cellulose is present within his body, and the mysterious stem cells seem to be a mix of both plant and animal matter. It’s hard to track even with our technology, but it looks like the cellulose is forming a sort of…skeleton? Frame? I’m not sure what the right word is, but Dr. Vanessa says they might start regrowing in another month. If that’s true, this would be a huge breakthrough in the realm of organ transplants and other medical fields!”

The Demon’s Head hummed, flipping through the work again and considering the man’s words. “Very good,” he praised. Paz beamed like a child at his words. “Unfortunately, I shall be releasing you of your duty, and your tongue is too loose for your head.”

“What-“ Paz’s eyes widened as he gurgled, his words cut off. Ra’s twisted his wrist, driving home the dagger he’d planted in the man’s heart. He had no use for men who talked too much.

Paz fell to the floor, convulsing as he tried to weakly remove the weapon still sticking out of his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he went pale as his blood seeped out onto the floor.

Ra’s barely spared the dying man a glance, taking back the extra stack of papers from the nurse and neatly stepped around him to exit the room. “Clean that up,” he said over his shoulder.

The old nurse bowed his head, waiting patiently for the foolish doctor to finish dying before he got out the mop.

This is why the nurse had survived so long; he knew how to stay silent.

-

[Nocturn tucking Danny in to rest. Ghost speech says, "Rest well, ghost child"]

#pondhead writes #the folly of men fic #dpxdc #long post #really long post #no beta we die like Danny #I rewrote this three times #this was gonna be longer but the plot got away from me so we're doing more than one part now #the whole point of this is to get me back into writing more so i guess it's working?? #i literally did so much googling for this #even watched timeline videos but i'm pretty sure i'm still wrong #literally what is dc lore anymore #i'd rather learn about kingdom hearts lore at this point #literally I am summoning all of my brain snails to bring this together #not medically accurate!!! #I am not a doctor I just took biology twice

[awlumii]

# — pairing: (barista)spidey!kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, spider-man (kazuha), barista!kazuha (briefly), beidou, chongyun, barbara, shinobu (mentioned)

# — warnings: mentions of minor character death

# — summary: happy birthday, dear spider-man~ 🎶

# — tags: fluff, brief angst, hurt/comfort(-ish), yes there's kisses involved who do you think i am

# — notes: here it is! a birthday fic for my special boy on his special day 🥺 i took a couple hours out of yesterday to churn this one out, and i want to thank @the-travelling-witch @catcze @kazeyu and @kazu-sun for reading this ahead of time to both give me advice and boost my confidence! i love you guys vvv much and i couldn't have posted this without your help 💕 like always, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

wanna join the tag list?

✦ — 🕷 + 🍁 — ✦

Silence is a privilege. You learned this very early on. To be silent, to bask in the stillness of a room, is a privilege not often awarded to people like you. You’re an energizer; a people chaser. You seek chaos and the wreckage that comes with it all so you can find something to fix within it. People flee from crime scenes and accidents, but you invite them. Of course you have to be careful when taking pride in a fact like that -- it’s not like you want people to get hurt, but how else would you be able to pursue your passion?

From the time you were young, you sought to help others in their greatest times of need. You were the first to help an injured kid to their parents when they got hurt on the playground and the first to dial the paramedics during a freak accident; you were the first to drop some sneaky medical facts on your teachers in your high school biology courses and the first to volunteer to dissect something for your lab courses. “The Good Samaritan”, your peers called you. “Our school’s very own guardian angel.” So it came as a surprise to no one that you got a full ride scholarship to the best university in the city with acceptance into their competitive medical program. You dove headfirst into your studies immediately after your high school graduation in hopes of getting ahead of the program when orientation started.

It’s hard for you to say anything bad about the whole thing, really. But if you had to conjure up a single complaint, it’s that your field is so noisy. The beeping of the pagers, the crackle of overhead intercoms, the rushed medical jargon falling from fellow doctor’s lips like waterfalls, the groans and cries of agonized patients and distressed families. There’s no time for peace. You regret it at times -- being as wound up as you are 24/7 is bound to take a toll on your health one day -- but the pros outweigh the cons most of the time. Besides, you tell yourself, you’re not a resident just yet; you can have peace and quiet at home at the end of the day, right? Right.

As of late, however, you’ve been wrong. Peace and quiet is nothing but a dream to you now and it’s all thanks to the city’s “beloved” vigilante.

Standing at the taller end of five feet (he’ll never give you an exact number), Spider-Man has become the sole reason why you can only hope and pray to the powers that be for a night of pure silence. He doesn’t swing by every night (thank the stars), but he’s in your apartment, lying half-dead on your carpet on most days which is enough to make you want to start pulling out your hair. You’d think that a man with enough flesh wounds to kill a normal person twice over would be silent as he gets treated, but no, he somehow manages to weave bizarre topics out of thin air whenever he’s with you. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly smart, smarter than he likes to let on, and snarky, too. Sometimes, you want to take off the mask that he wears, ball it up, and shove it in his mouth.

..Oh, but who are you kidding? Annoying as he might be, you’ve got a thing for the man, even if you don’t know who he is. He’ll drop by during the daytime whenever he sees you alone and sometimes, he’ll even give you things that he picked up during his little patrols -- plushies from outside vendors, wildflowers from the park… Once, he gave you a freshly clipped rose from a florist that was doing handouts not too far from where you were seated. The truth is that you like him and sometimes, you wonder if he likes you, too. It’d be complicated thanks to your existing crush on the cute barista of the cafe that you frequent, but it’d be a nice change of pace.

(Ah, love. Yet another noisy thing that you’re not quite sure you want to actually let into your life.)

Speaking of a change of pace, tonight is a quiet one. You’re not quite sure if that’s a good thing yet. You’ve heard sirens in various spots around your apartment, but each one died down within twenty minutes. You took that as a sign that Spider-Man’s been swinging here and there, which means that he’s bound to drop by sometime soon. So, rather than let your guard down, you decided to stand on your balcony with a comfy sweater pulled over your head. The night air is crisp and cool, albeit a bit stuffy from all the cars zipping about. When you exhale, you can see your breath coming out in puffs of white smoke. It’s nice -- the chill keeps you alert.

You let your mind wander while you wait for your patient to arrive. Embarrassingly enough, the first thing your thoughts drift to is the barista that you saw this morning. Kazuha’s always so upbeat during the day, even more so when he sees you (a fact that does very little to quell the excited thrumming in your veins whenever you see his face). He looked a little more tired today than he does normally -- when asked if he was okay, he merely told you not to worry too much about him. You’d agreed so as to not overwhelm him, but that didn’t stop you from stealing glances the entire time you were there. He caught you at some point and gave you a wink -- just thinking about it sends your stomach aflutter. It would be terrible if something was wrong with him, you think. Would you be able to help him?

You don’t get to think about it much more as a figure sailing through the air catches your eye. Spider-Man is so easy to spot, even in the darkness above the streetlights. You tense, somewhat hoping he doesn’t spot you. If he doesn’t, you could maybe get around to fantasizing about Kazuha a little more. Unfortunately for you and your potential fantasies, he does; Spider-Man changes course right before your eyes and lands on your balcony railing. He doesn’t lose balance once, instead remaining in a steady crouching position with ease. He really is something to behold.

You stretch languidly, relishing in the way your bones pop. “Alright,” you say as you turn towards your balcony door, “where’s it hurt this time?”

To your surprise and immediate concern, Spider-Man doesn’t speak right away. He adjusts himself so that he’s sitting on your railing instead, with one leg pulled up to his chest and the other dangling towards the floor. “No injuries tonight, doc’.” He rests his cheek on his knee and turns his head to face you. “I just wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

If it were a few months prior, you would’ve said no. Now, the very thought of turning him away causes needles to press at your chest. You close your balcony door and head back over, resting your arms on the railing beside him. “Of course.”

Spider-Man must hear something in your voice that you don’t, because he shakes his head slightly. “You can say no, lovebug. I don’t want to bother you.”

“If you were bothering me, I would’ve told you to leave.” You frown at him. There’s negativity rolling off of him in waves. That’s not like him at all. “Are you okay?”

“I…” He reaches for the back of his neck before pausing. He lets his arm drop. Was he about to--? “I don’t know.”

You nudge him gently with your shoulder. Go on, you say silently. What’s up?

Spider-Man picks up on your invitation and sighs. “Do you… like your birthday, by any chance?”

“Me?” You tilt your head curiously. “I guess so. Why?”

“I guess I’m really not normal.” He turns his head, looking past you and into your apartment. “I don’t like mine at all.”

You connect the dots rather quickly. You’d feign excitement, but clearly, doing so would do nothing. If anything, it might make things awkward. “Is… today your birthday, Spider-Man?” When he nods, you make a small humming noise. “Would me saying ‘happy birthday’ cheer you up, or..?”

“If it’s you,” he says, his voice soft, “then yes, probably.” You don’t say it right away. You hesitate because of his tone, but he takes the opportunity to keep speaking. “I lost someone important to me a few years ago today.” He inhales sharply. “And a few more in the years prior. Today’s more of a day of mourning than anything else.”

Your heart shatters. You wonder if he knows how small he sounds. “I--”

“They say you shouldn’t spend your birthday alone,” he continues, “so I decided to stop by. You’re all I have left, lovebug.” You can hear the fake smile in his voice when he speaks again. “You’re going to have a hard time getting me off your back. Sorry.”

You don’t know what to say. The silence lingers and all that can be heard is the sound of cars rolling by on the street below. A car horn blares every so often at the light nearby, but you still remain quiet.

Is that why he always comes back? Because really and truly, he has no one else in his life? You can’t say the same for yourself -- you have Kazuha to keep your heart and mind occupied during your down time; you have Beidou, Hu Tao, and Chongyun to keep you busy at school; you have Barbara and Shinobu to keep you on your toes at work. You have friends, people to fall back on. But Spider-Man… doesn’t. And it’s not like you can just introduce him to your friends, either.

To think that you’ve been complaining about him when all he’s been doing is spending time with the only person who gives him the proper time of day.

The guilt that seizes you makes you hiss softly. What do you do now? You’ve had tender and serious moments with Spider-Man before, but this is too different. Do you apologize for being an asshole? What good would that even do? Do you make a gift for him on the spot? No; that might make him feel worse…

“I’m grateful for you.” Spider-Man’s voice cuts your thoughts short. “I really am. I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess. I hope you can forgive me.”

“If I… didn’t want to be involved,” you manage, “I would have told you to stay away a long time ago. Don’t apologize; I want to be by your side.”

Again, you hear a sharp intake of breath. “That’s--”

“Dangerous? Stupid? Yeah, I’m aware. But since I’ve never told you this out loud before, you’re my friend, Spider-Man.” You rest a hand on top of his without looking him in the eye. “Whether you knew that or not, we’re friends.” It feels weird to say, but you mean every word. Of course, friends don’t think about unmasking each other and kissing them every once in a while, but you’re not going to dwell on that. Your face starts to burn. “I wouldn’t want to be rid of you at all.” You say honestly.

Spider-Man moves his hand so that he’s holding yours. “...I appreciate it.” He says after a brief pause.

And once again, there is silence. It’s one that you can bask in, you find, especially when Spider-Man’s grip on your hand tightens. His presence is comforting, and only now do you realize that he thinks the same of you. The city marches on below your balcony, everyone encased in the same chilly autumn breeze that causes rigid goosebumps to rise on your skin. It’s nice, this silence. Is this the stillness that you’ve been missing out on because of Spider-Man? What are the odds that you’d finally be able to enjoy it with him?

You shudder and sneeze suddenly, shocking the both of you. Spider-Man jolts but eases into a laugh. “Are you cold?” He asks.

You sniff and tug the hood of your sweater up over your head. “No,” you grumble. “You’re cold. I’m just peachy.”

Spider-Man hops down and leads you inside, his fingers still intertwined with yours. “You’re a horrible liar,” he jokes. Once you’re inside, he stands in the threshold and laughs again. “You’re shaking.”

“Why couldn’t your birthday be during the summer or something?” You whine and make yourself small in your sweater. “It’s fucking cold outside.”

“What can I say, I like the fall more.”

“Whatever.” You ball your hands into fists inside your sweater pockets. “You’re not coming inside?”

Spider-Man shakes his head. “Something could still happen. I’m going to head back out.”

An idea comes to mind. It’s a stupid idea, a really, really, really stupid idea, but it's an idea nonetheless. You don't have much in the way of material goods to give him -- it'd be a cold day in hell before you coughed up one of your expensive medical supplies (as if he had any use for those with his speedy healing) -- and despite knowing him for as long as you have, he has yet to give any real hints as to what it is he likes. When you think about it, you realize that Spider-Man's been super careful as to not give you any kind of clues as to what kind of person he is without the mask. All of his likes and dislikes are a complete mystery to you, unfortunately.

Well, almost all of them. He's told you time and time again that he likes this one thing — one person.

“B-Before you do,” you stammer, “what’re your thoughts on birthday gifts?”

You can practically feel the confused look he gives you. “Why?”

Rather than let the embarrassment consume you, you let your body move on its own accord. You walk closer to him and place your hands on either side of his face. “Stay still.” You whisper. Without waiting for his question, you lean forward and place a kiss on his lips right over his mask. You can feel them just beneath the cloth and hear the noise of surprise that he makes, but you don’t let it stop you. You stay there for just a moment longer before pulling away. Your face heats up to an impossible degree and you keep your head turned away to avoid further humiliation. Spider-Man is completely quiet, likely with shock, and it makes you want to bury your head in a hole. He's told you before how much he likes you; even if he was joking, he's said it too many times for you to consider it as just a joke. A kiss should suffice as a gift, right? “Happy birthday," you mutter. “Now go--”

Before you finish speaking, a gloved hand comes over your eyes. You start to question what the hell he’s doing, but a pair of uncovered lips cover your own, silencing your protests. You melt into the kiss after a brief moment of shock and Spider-Man pulls you in closer with his free hand. Closer, closer, and closer still. He kisses you like you're something gentle, fragile, prone to break at any moment. And yet he tilts his head and nips at your bottom lip, kissing you deeply, like you mean something to him.

Friends don't kiss like this.

You can’t think. You can’t move. It’s just you and your masked vigilante and the sound of sirens outside.

The sound is what causes Spider-Man to pull away after a while. He doesn’t uncover your eyes right away and you hear fabric moving -- likely him fixing his mask. When he moves his hand, your vision feels hazy and your throat tight. You stand there in limbo, the two of you just staring at each other. You tug on the strings of your hoodie gently. “You should, um… you should get going.”

You wonder how he’s looking at you right now. Spider-Man clears his throat. “I… Yeah. You’re right.” He starts to reach for you, but he drops his hand and balls it into a fist by his side. “Will I… see you tomorrow?”

It’s a hesitant question -- a request, if not anything else. Am I allowed to see you tomorrow? You nod without hesitation. Who are you to refuse him? “Yeah.”

Spider-Man’s shoulders drop with relief. “Okay. Then…” He walks backwards onto your balcony and raises two fingers in his usual salute. “...Thank you for the birthday gift.” And with a push backwards, he tumbles off of your balcony and zips into the biting autumn night, leaving you in your living room.

You walk forward and close the door to your balcony. You turn your eyes to the clock on the wall. 12:00 AM, it reads. It’s October 30th. Your kiss was the last and only gift he'd received yesterday.

✦ happy happy happy birthday, kazuha.. i hope he enjoys his day with his new family 🥺💕💗

✦ i'll make an origins post about spidey!kazuha someday, hehe

#[ ✍️🏽 — scribbles! ] #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #it feels nice being able to post smth again 🥺

[reidandweep]

Something Bigger Than Us

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Hi guys, I am back after an eventful few months. Had to deal with some personal stuff, but I am back now and writing more! So, to celebrate, heres some fluff with our favourite genius!!

Word Count- 4026 words

Warnings- Fluff, mention of bodily liquids in the case, mentions of murder.

The beauty of love is that, you can fall into it with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time. - Ritu Ghatourey.

Sitting in the subway cart, Spencer indulged in the book in his hands. It had been a gift from Penelope as she had always told him he had to read more fictional works. So, there Spencer was, on his day off, travelling to the science museum and reading ‘The Maze Runner’. He was taking more time than he needed; slowing down his reading speed to prolong the story to fit his entire journey. He was so engrossed that he nearly didn’t notice the subway cart come to a stop and the doors open, a woman walking inside. What made Spencer glance up from the novel in his hands was the slight change of weight near his feet. Looking away from his novel, he didn’t expect to see said woman sitting on the subway cart floor. Spencer glanced around to see multiple seats available, yet there this person was. Sat on the ground.

“Did you want to sit here?”

Spencer had found many women pretty in his life. He had found a few to be gorgeous. But this woman, she was breath taking. As she lifted her gaze to stare into his, Spencer felt a warmth he never felt. A moment. A spark.

The woman smiled up at Spencer.

“No, it’s okay. I quite like sitting on the floor. I can feel the wheels moving more.”

Spencer looked at the woman puzzled.

She couldn’t help but let her smile grow.

“Sit down and feel.”

Spencer’s brain went blank at the woman’s request. He knew how much bacteria there was on the floor and could not imagine doing such a thing as sitting on it.

“On average, more than 9 million people ride the subway every day. That’s 18 million feet on that floor. They could have stepped in anything. The number of bacteria is unimaginable.”

The woman shrugged.

“So, that’s 18 million feet and my butt. At least I can say I enjoyed my subway ride more because I felt the wheels on the tracks.”

The warmth in Spencer’s chest spread the more he looked at her. Before he even realised, Spencer found himself sliding from his seat and onto the subway floor next to her. She was right. You could feel the wheels thumping against the tracks.

“It’s like a heartbeat.”

The woman looked at the floor of the carriage with a smile.

“People ride the subway every day and never think about how amazing it is that this thing was created. That we can hop on something that could take us wherever we desired to in our city. They treat it like it's nothing. But it moves like we do, and it stops like we do.”

The woman looked up at Spencer.

“It has a heartbeat. Just like you and I.”

In his whole life, Spencer had never heard someone describe anything in such a way that made it feel human; that made him feel so human.

“So, where are we going?”

“We?”

The woman smiled and stood from the ground, holding her hand out for Spencer to take. He did so without a thought. It was like being around her made him forget everything.

“Yes, we? I had no plans but then I met you and it seems you had plans so now I do to. So, where are we going mister…?”

Spencer straightened his satchel, his hands gripping the straps. The warmth that had spread from his chest now burnt in the hand he had held hers with for those few seconds.

“My names Spencer. Spencer Reid. I’m actually a doctor but not a medical one. I have three PHD’s and three bachelor’s Degrees, but none of them are remotely medical. I could go into that field if I wanted to but…”

Spencer stopped himself as he realised, he was rambling.

The woman leaned against the pole to her side and looked at Spencer in earnest.

“You were saying you could go into the medical field if you wanted to but…”

She was actually listening to his rambling and she even seemed to be interested.

Spencer’s hands gripped his satchel tighter.

“But I have enough to focus on with work already.”

The woman nodded her head in understanding.

“Well, Dr Spencer Reid, my name is Y/F/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N. My title is just regular old miss. Unfortunately, I have no PHDs, but I do have a bachelor’s degree in Film Studies which I’m presuming is nowhere near exciting as what you have yours in. I could never have gone into the medical field because I hated biology and preferred chemistry at school as I liked drawing the chemical equations more than learning about photosynthesis. The only part I liked about biology was learning about thalidomide, which is really grim, but it was fascinating.”

Whilst she spoke, Spencer couldn’t help but notice the movement of her hands. Her nails on her right hand were painted a different colour to the ones on her left. Just like how he wore different socks on each foot. He liked that they unknowingly matched.

“Now we are no longer strangers, I think you need to tell me where we are going?”

Spencer looked towards the doors and noticed that they were actually soon to arrive to his stop.

“I was going to visit the museum. The next stop is my one.”

Y/N looked at the door and nodded.

“Cool. So, can I join?”

Even though she had already said she was joining him twice, Spencer did not think she actually meant it. He stuttered through his words as his thoughts blazed around his head.

Y/N could see his mind going into overdrive.

“Hey.”

Spencer looked down at the shorter woman in front of him. He wondered why she seemed so worried.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I tend to come off as quite strong but something about you tells me I need to know more. I want to know more. Spend more time with you. I’d love to see the things Dr Spencer Reid, who has three PHDs and was reading one of my favourite books when I hopped on the train, had planned to see today. I will only join you if it is something you want.”

Spencer felt the subway cart come to a stop and saw the doors in his peripheral open.

He was tired of living life through the view of work before anything else. The few moments of happiness he had was taken away by not allowing himself to be spontaneous. To be with them in person. So, for the second time that day, Spencer grabbed a hold of Y/N’s hand, ignoring the facts and statistics of germs and bacteria running through his mind.

Pulling her towards the doors, the pair stepped off the subway cart and onto the platform.

People walked around the pair as they stood facing each other, staring at one another with their hands entwined.

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I would like if you would join me to the museum. I would like to spend more time with you too.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s words. With the hand still not in his grasp, Y/N lifted her arm towards the subway exist.

“Well, lead the way Dr Spencer Reid.”

Spencer did just that.

In silence the pair walked the short distance from the subway station to the museum. Their hands interlocked at their sides as Y/N looked around at the buildings by them. Spencer couldn’t help but glance towards the woman. He couldn’t understand why he felt so different with her. The warmth in his chest was still there, and it felt as though it was growing and spreading with every breath he took. His hand in her own was something he wished to never lose. It was like being enveloped in the softest blanket known to man. This stranger who sat by his feet on the subway has made him feel more comfortable and step out of his comfort zone more than any of his friends or family ever have. But why?

Coming to the doors of the museum, Spencer opened the door for Y/N to enter before him; letting go of her hand to do so. He felt empty without her hand in his. He couldn’t believe how empty his palm now felt.

“I’ve never been to this museum before.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked look on Spencer’s face. As though what she said was the most shocking thing he had ever heard.

Before she could even make a joke about his expression, Spencer suddenly turned down a corridor.

“Woah! Slow down Doc!”

Spencer slowed down his pace.

“I’m sorry. It’s just this is my favourite place and I want to show you everything it has to offer.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s bashful behaviour. She couldn’t help her own cheeks blushing at the thought that this kind man wanted to show her around his favourite place. To think she had only met him a mere hour before.

Giving Spencer’s a comforting smile, Y/N bumped her shoulder with his own.

“I have a feeling that I am going to learn a lot with you as my tour guide.”

Spencer led the way as they walked through the corridors, reciting information about each exhibit they come across, stuttering when he felt Y/N’s hands brush his own as they walked side by side.

Just as Spencer was about the point Y/N to the next exhibit, he felt her hands slowly clasp around his own. Her smooth fingers fitting perfectly into the gaps between his rough appendages.

“Is this okay?”

Spencer smiled in delight, squeezing her hand in reassurance as he pulled Y/N in the direction they had been heading.

Walking hand in hand down the hall, Spencer silently led Y/N to one of his favourite parts of the museum. As they entered the room, Y/N’s eyes could not miss the large rock exhibited in the middle of the room, people sporadically standing around the object.

“What is that?”

Spencer’s chest became warm at the look of wonder on Y/N’s face as they walked closer to the exhibit.

“That is the Willamette Meteorite. It was found in Oregon and is the largest ever meteorite found in the United States and the sixth largest in the world. The smooth surface melted during its blazing entry into the atmosphere, while the pits formed on the Earth's surface. Iron meteorites form when large enough asteroids have had molten interiors catastrophically collide with other asteroids. These huge collisions blast out material from the molten iron core of the asteroid on orbits that reach Earth after millions of years.”

Y/N continued her wonderous gaze as they let go of Spencer’s hand, walking around the meteorite, taking in every crevice and crater. Spencer could usually spend hours staring at the meteor, but right now he could not tear his haze away from Y/N as she took her time looking at the artefact.

Turning to look at Spencer, Y/N wanted to find out more.

“How was it made? Like is it a piece of something much bigger?”

Spencer looked at the meteorite that stood much taller than all of them.

“The internal structure, made of metallic iron, suggests that billions of years ago, an early planet orbiting the Sun was shattered, perhaps in a collision with another protoplanet. The fragment was probably part of the planet’s iron-nickel core. While planets, including Earth gradually formed and matured, this fragment orbited the Sun. It was hit at least twice by other planetary fragments, knocking it into a collision course with Earth. Over many centuries, rainwater interacting with its iron sulphide deposits produced sulfuric acid, which slowly etched and carved large cavities.”

Spencer waited for a response, but as the seconds passed in silence. Had he freaked her out? Had he gone too far? Spencer moved his gaze from the meteor to Y/N, to see her staring at the meteorite in awe.

“Woah.”

Spencer laughed at her exclamation. His head dipping down to try and cover his reddening cheeks.

“Woah indeed.”

Y/N couldn’t help the blush now invading her cheeks. Walking back towards Spencer, Y/N nudged the genius’s shoulder with her own, gaining his attention. Spencer turned his head to look back at Y/N.

“It’s crazy how we get to look at something that was once part of something much bigger. Something that could have housed life and all sorts of wonderous things and yet, here sits part of its core, on our planet, in one of our museums. Now a part of something much bigger again.”

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other in silence. Taking in the moment and her words. Both of them acknowledging that they too were part of something much bigger, much more meaningful than they had every thought about.

A clicking sound broke the moment.

Turning around, Spencer and Y/N both saw an older gentleman pointing a polaroid camera towards the pair.

Realising that the pair had turned around the gentleman walked up towards them and handed over the picture.

“It still has to develop.”

Y/N looked down at the picture in Spencer’s hand as it slowly developed.

“Can you take another one? Just so we can have one each.”

The man nodded at Y/N question, stepping back to where he stood before.

Y/N moved her hand to clasp Spencer’s once more, tilting her head to lay on his shoulder, a smile blossomed on her face as she looked towards the camera.

Spencer’s own gaze was fixed on her. His eyes taking in the slope of her nose and the feel of her hair tickling his neck. Usually, if he was ever this close to anyone, let alone a woman, he would start to sweat and panic. And yet, all Spencer could feel was what he could only describe as serene. Spencer had never felt serene until now.

Being shaken out of his stare by the click of the man’s camera once more, Spencer looked to see the man handing Y/N the picture as she rummaged through her bag.

“No need to pay me.”

Y/N shook her head.

“I insist.”

The man moved forward, placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I gave you the picture because sometimes it is nice to look back where it all began.”

The old man looked Spencer in the eye and gave him a wink, causing Spencer to blush.

“Both of you, enjoy your day, and may I suggest if you get hungry, try Giovani’s Café down the street.”

Spencer cocked his head.

“Is it good?”

The man laughed as he walked backwards, nodded his head.

“I should know, I am Giovanni after all!”

Laughter rumbled from the pair as they watched the older gentlemen walk out the door, his polaroid camera in hand. As their laughter died, Y/N looked down at the now developed picture in her hand. Spencer in turn looked at his own.

The picture was beautiful. With the light from outside cascading through the windows, creating almost a halo of light around the pair, the meteorite had never looked bigger than when Spencer saw the back of his and Y/N’s figures standing in front of it. But what Spencer couldn’t take his eyes away from was the fact that in the picture, Y/N was not looking at the meteorite. She was looking at him. If he looked hard enough, he could see a smile on her face. So soft and so beautiful.

The comforting silence of the pair looking at their polaroids was suddenly shattered when Spencer’s ringtone filled the air. Spencer couldn’t help but let his shoulders drop in disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this.”

Y/N smiled in acknowledgment,

“Go ahead, I’m just going to take a look over here.”

Spencer nodded as he watched her walk across the hall, examining the pictures and their information plaques as he answered his phone.

“Hello.”

“We got a case Pretty Boy. Wheels up in 50 minutes.”

Spencer rubbed his head at Morgan’s voice.

“Okay.”

Morgan could hear the disappointment in Spencer’s tone.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Spencer kept his eyes on Y/N as he took a second to answer.

“Yeah. But I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

Morgan chuckled.

“Okay, Genius, see you later.”

Spencer hung up his phone. Walking towards where Y/N still stood, he tapped the woman on her shoulder.

As she turned, Y/N took in Spencer’s solemn look.

“Is everything okay?”

Spencer shook his head.

“Work called. I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

Y/N smiled in understanding.

“Work is work, whatever it may be. No need to be sorry. I had an amazing day that I didn’t think I would have.”

Spencer stared Y/N in her eyes, a little smile adorning his face.

“I did too. I have to go. But can we meet again?”

Y/N nodded her head, her own smile lighting her face.

“Yeah. I would like that.

Spencer grinned as he began to turn around, walking towards the corridors exit, waving as he left. He began to walk down the stairs when he suddenly heard his name.

“Spencer, wait!”

Spencer turned around to see Y/N running down the stairs towards him, polaroid in hand.

Stopping in front of him, as Y/N stood on the steps above Spencer, she was nearly as tall as the boy wonder.

“You dropped this.”

“Thank you.”

As Spencer went to reach for the picture, Y/N pulled it out of his reach.

He watched with bated breath as she carefully put the picture in the breast pocket of his jacket, tapping his jacket where the picture now safely sat.

“Now go before your boss gets angry at you for being late.”

Laughing at her truthful words, Spencer once again waved towards the girl, rushing down the steps as he looked at his watch, realising that he was going to be late. But even with that knowledge, as he opened the exit door of the museum, Spencer turned to wave goodbye to Y/N once more. Watching as she waved back, before he allowed the door to close behind him.

Spencer walked to the jet as briskly as he could, breathing heavily from the sprint through the airport, just about getting through easily with his badge.

Trotting up the steps, Spencer leaped into the jet, quickly taking the seat next to Emily, his breath heavy as he took in deep breaths.

The team ceased their conversation, all looking at Spencer in confusion and worry.

“Sorry I’m late, what’s the case?”

Spencer ignored the strange looks and elongated silence.

Hotch quickly broke it.

“We’re heading to Akron, Ohio. We got two murdered couples with the men both being found with used condoms on and Viagra in their systems. In both cases, the husbands were killed with a silenced 9-millimeter, the wife was stabbed multiple times. We’re meeting up with the Akron P.D when we get there. Everything you need is in the file.”

Spencer nodded his head as he grabbed the file from Hotch, opening the papers as the plane took off.

Briskly looking through the file, Spencer began to detail notes in his notebook about possible suspects and details the others may have missed. But as he scribbled, Spencer could feel the stares of Emily, Morgan, and JJ as they all sat by him. Fed up, Spencer lifted his head, flittering his gaze between them all.

“Can I help?”

“Why was you late?”

Spencer looked at Morgan.

“I was at the museum.”

“That’s the truth but why was you late?”

Spencer turned his eyes to Emily, confusion littering his features.

“I was at the museum, I had to get on the subway and get here.”

JJ tilted her head as Spencer looked between the trio.

The weight of their gazes quickly caused him to break.

“I was late because I was at the museum with someone.”

At his statement, everyone on the jet turned towards Spencer. Even Hotch had Spencer’s undivided attention.

Emily twisted to face the genius, a smirk on her face as she crossed her arms.

“Go on Romeo, tell us all about them.”

Spencer knew he could not get out of this. So, he began to begrudgingly tell his team about his day and the person he spent it with.

“Then after the gentleman took our picture, I got the call. I said goodbye and rushed over here.”

The team all looked at Spencer with mixtures of pride and happiness.

“Did you get her number?”

The looks soon turned to disbelief as Spencer bowed his head in shock.

“You had an amazing day with a woman you don’t know, which is something unlike you, and you failed to get her number? Pretty boy, I am very disappointed. I’ve taught you better than that.”

Shaking his head at Morgan’s playful words, Spencer couldn’t help his own disappointment take over. He can’t believe he didn’t ask her for her number. Rossi walked over and patted the man on his shoulder in reassurance.

“At least you got a picture to remember her.”

Spencer slowly nodded, solemnly reaching into his breast pocket to pull the picture out. But, as Spencer looked at the picture, he realised that she had handed him the second picture they had taken.

Spencer looked at the polaroid and couldn’t believe how comfortable he looked with her. Their hands interlaced as Y/N smiled brightly towards the camera. Spencer’s smile was directed towards the woman next time him, warm and content. He had never looked so at peace before. Yet, he still forgot to ask for her number.

As Spencer was about the place the picture back in his pocket, he paused his movement as Hotch spoke up.

“If I was you, I would check the back of that picture Reid.”

Looking at the people in front of him, he could see that they were all now smiling, looking at him expectedly, waiting for the man to look at the back of the picture. Flipping the picture over, Spencer couldn’t help the smile that blossomed over his face. His eyes crinkling from how large it was. On the back of the picture, a message was written.

“Meeting you made me feel part of something much bigger. Something I would love to explore. Give me a call if you want to as well.”

Underneath the message lay Y/N’s phone number.

Spencer lifted his head and looked around at his team. Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he began to stand.

“I’m just going to…”

Emily pushed him up as the rest of the team laughed.

“Hurry up and call her Spence, no point in waiting!”

Spencer nodded his head in a flurry as JJ shooed him to the back of the jet.

Walking passed the team, Rossi and Derek patted him on the back, as Hotch nodded his head. They were all happy for him.

Walking into the jet’s toilet, Spencer locked the door and pulled out his phone. Flipping the picture in his opposing hand, he quickly dialled the number, clicking the call button before he could change his mind.

Just as he contemplated hanging up, the ringing stopped, and he heard an answer.

“Hello?”

“I want to be a part of something bigger. I want to explore it too.”

“Really?”

Spencer could feel the smile radiating from Y/N over the phone. A breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he realised, he was nodding his head instead of talking.

“Really.”

Spencer was not the type of person to sit in the bathroom on a plane talking to someone on the phone that he only met that morning. Even more so, having met that someone because they sat on the floor of the subway instead of the seats. Yet, here he was, in the bathroom talking to Y/N and getting to know her more. Spencer felt like the Willamette Meteorite. He had been broken and steered down different courses over the years, feeling like he would never be part of anything bigger than the family that was his team. But now, he felt like he was finally going to be a part of something bigger. Something extraordinary.

Never expected to meet you. When I met you I never expected you to become my everything and more than I could have ever dreamed of. - Maria Ana Bulquerin.

A/N- Thank you for the support. If you wish to in anyway, Please donate to the link below.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #mgg #mathew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #spencer reid x reader #mgg imagine #mgg oneshot #spencer reid one shot #derek morgan #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #jennifer jereau #david rossi #bau team #bau imagine

[vizkopa]

Satisfaction (Law x Mink!Reader)

Word Count: 2360

Fem!Reader

WARNING: NSFW

~

It wasn’t until midday that Law noticed one among the crew was missing. He frowned to himself, trying to recall if [Name] had been at breakfast, but he realised he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her the entire day.

Bepo sidled up to him after lunch, wringing his furry white paws.

“Captain, [Name] didn’t want me to say anything, but I’m worried about her.”

Law’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? Is she sick? Why didn’t she come to me?”

The bear hesitated. “Ah, not sick, exactly…”

Law’s frown deepened. “Then what…?”

“She’s… in heat, Captain.”

Law blinked. The words had been so completely unexpected that for a moment, he was thrown off guard. “What—? Wait, is this a mink thing?”

Bepo nodded sadly. “It doesn’t happen very often, maybe once or twice a year, but going through it alone is…” He shuddered. “She’s hurting bad.”

Law was still struggling to get his head around the idea. Even though he’d lived in close quarters with the polar bear mink for years, there was still so much to learn about the species. [Name] was a recent addition to his crew, a snow leopard mink rescued from an auction house, and only the second mink he’d met to date, so he was far from an expert on their anatomy.

“But you…? I’ve never seen— You’ve never…”

Bepo understood without Law having to finish his sentence. “I’m a bear, I only rut once a year, and even then, you’d be hard pressed to tell.” He smiled sheepishly. “There aren’t exactly many good candidates for me on a ship of mostly men. But [Name]… Cat minks go into heat more frequently than others. And being around all these male pheromones, her instincts are probably going crazy.”

Law rubbed his temple. “What can we do about it? Can’t you… help her?”

Bepo blushed so furiously it even showed through his fur. “I, uh… offered… But she doesn’t want my help. She doesn’t want anyone else to know. I only found out because, well… I can smell her.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Bepo shrugged. “You’re a doctor, maybe you can give her something for the fever at the very least?”

Law nodded, still trying to process the new information. He tried hard not to imagine what [Name] would be like in heat, her face flushed pink, her chest heaving, her… No. He couldn’t think of his crew mate that way, not when she was hurting. Bepo had said she didn’t want help and Law would not take advantage of her like that.

After a moment’s thought, he went to his office to dig out a cooling pack and some acetaminophen and went to stand outside [Name]’s door. He rapped lightly on it.

“[Name]-ya?” he called softly.

There was a long pause, then a small voice said: “Come in.”

Law was not prepared for the wall of hot, humid air that hit him as he entered the room. He almost took a step back it was so stifling. He could smell sweat, and a sickly sweet, heady scent that made his head spin. He shut the door quietly behind him and approached the pile of blankets on the bed.

[Name] peeked out at him and he caught only a glimpse of her wide pupils and tear stained cheeks before she buried her face in her hands. Her fluffy, rounded ears sat flat against her head and her tail curled sadly around her hunched form.

“I told Bepo I didn’t want any help.”

“He was worried. I’m worried.”

“I’ll be fine. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He placed a hand across her forehead. She was burning up. He tried to ignore the way she leaned into his touch, keening quietly. “You’re hurting,” he said. “I brought you some things that might help the fever, but… I don’t know what more I can do.”

She shook her head so his hand fell away, but he didn’t miss the whimper that escaped her at the loss of contact. “That’s more than enough. Thank you.”

“Bepo said he… offered to help? Is that… is that something you need? I’m sure anyone on the crew would be happy to…” But she shook her head furiously at his words.

“No. No, I don’t want them to see me like this. It’s… embarrassing…”

Law frowned. “There’s nothing embarrassing about biology, [Name]-ya.”

She snorted. “Easy for you to say, you don’t have to go through this uncontrollable horniness every few months.”

“How long do they typically last?”

She shuddered. “I once had one last a full week,” she said quietly. She shook her head, as if trying to dispel the memory. “But usually only a few days.”

Law was stunned. “…I had no idea. I wish there was something more I could do to help.”

She smiled ruefully and Law could not help but notice her canines looked considerably longer and sharper than usual. He wasn’t sure if it was the stifling heat of the room, or the way she unconsciously ran her wet tongue over her teeth that had his pulse rushing in his ears.

She cocked her head. “Your heart is beating awfully fast, Captain…” she said softly.

Law swallowed thickly. This heat, this dizzying sweetness was going to make him do something he was going to regret. He stood hastily from the bed. “I should leave you to it. Call me if you need anything.” He left the cooling pack and medicine on the bed side table and had barely taken two steps towards the door when she called him back.

“Law…”

God, the way she said his name. Was she intentionally trying to shatter his resolve? Or was it just the cocktail of the pheromones and the warmth of the room and the pink flush of her skin beneath silken fur that made him want her so badly? He hadn’t heard her rise from the bed, but suddenly she was behind him, her front pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his middle. Her long tail curled over his hip to brush the sliver of skin between his shirt and jeans. He shivered even though she was like a furnace at his back.

“Don’t go.”

Her hands crawled their way up his shirt and he felt the sting of her elongated nails against his skin. Her mouth was warm and wet at the back of his neck. Her tongue was rough but strangely pleasant. Absently, he wondered what that tongue would feel like elsewhere…

“[Name]-ya…” he said in warning. To his ears though, it sounded as if he was pleading.

“If you’re worried I’m not in my right mind, don’t be. I’m perfectly in control of my actions, otherwise I would have jumped Bepo when I had the chance.” She nuzzled her nose into his neck, a deep purr rising in her throat. “You just smell so good.”

“Do you want my help?” Though his skin crawled with want, he would no nothing until he heard it from her lips.

“Please, Captain~ I need you.”

It was all he needed to cast aside his remaining inhibitions. He turned in her arms and she gasped at the sudden proximity of his face to hers. He took the opportunity to capture her lips in a searing kiss. His hands skimmed down her sides, her thin tank top clinging to her sweat-damp skin, and grasped her tightly beneath her thighs as he lifted her into his arms.

She clung to him, arms tight around his neck and her hips rocking desperately against his. He groaned into her mouth as she did so, his body responding more strongly than it ever had, and he felt rather than heard her purring when the bulge in his jeans ground into her core.

Law wasted no time laying her back on the bed amongst the twisted sheets. He broke away from the kiss for a moment to pull his shirt over his head and discard it in some dark corner of the room, before diving back in to leave a trail of wet kisses along her exposed collar bone.

She arched into him, her short, sharp breaths and gasps only fuelling him onward. His fingers brushed the stiff peaks of her nipple through her shirt and the high, needy moan she let out made his cock twitch impatiently. He urged it to wait just a little longer. He wanted this to last.

Deft fingers inched below the waistband of her shorts and swiped over her dripping core. He swore under his breath.

“Oh, [Name]-ya, your soaking. You should have come to me sooner.”

She only whimpered in response, bucking her hips into his hand. He thought it best not to tease her too long. He dragged her sodden shorts and underwear down her legs and they quickly joined his shirt on the floor. There was no resistance when he slid his first finger into her waiting heat and he soon added a second, curling them in a come-hither motion that had her writhing against the sheets. He barely had to brush her clit with his thumb before she was falling apart beneath him, her pussy gripping his fingers tightly as waves of pleasure wracked her thighs.

Her spasms had barely subsided when she began tugging at his belt, her hands shaking from the aftermath of her orgasm. Law helped her along and his jeans had barely reached his ankles when she was pulling him down into another searing kiss. He didn’t even have time to think, but he pulled himself away just long enough to ask:

“Are you sure about this, [Name]-ya?”

“I’ve never been more sure. Please, fuck me. Now.”

He didn’t need telling twice. It took all his resolve not to plunge into her all at once, though he need not have worried. She was so warm and welcoming for him, he couldn’t help but swear under his breath at the feel of her encompassing him so completely. Her hips jerked beneath his but he pressed them to the mattress to keep her still, a muscles in his jaw working furiously as he fought the urge to come then and there. He had never felt anything like it before.

“Law~”

Her voice was fucked out and desperate, and though he felt like he would explode any second, he couldn’t leave her high and dry when she’d been hurting so long. He began to move, slowly at first, but quickly picking up pace. Her cries and moans echoed in the humid room and Law spared a thought for his crewmates, who must all know what they were doing by now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. All that mattered was [Name]—warm and wet and pliant beneath him.

Her fur was like velvet under his wandering fingers. He dragged them through the black and grey rosettes that blossomed on her thighs, and up her sides, taking her shirt with them to reveal the white fur of her stomach and breasts, the barely-visible pink of her nipples. He dropped his head to one of them and sucked and she encourage him with an arch of her back and a mewl of pleasure. Her fingers wound there way into his hair and he felt this scrape of her nails—claws?—on his scalp, and made a shudder shoot down his spine and straight to his cock.

So much for wanting to make this last.

Then he felt her coming again, her walls gripping him tightly, and he knew he was done for. The tugging at his hair became a sting as her whole body tensed and suddenly he was releasing inside her, so sudden and intense, it left him dazed for a moment.

Before he could pull out, [Name] seized his shoulders and flipped him easily onto his back, looking down at him with a smug grin that brough to mind a cat that had just won a play fight. Still buried deep inside her, his cock twitched back to life at the sight of her straddling him, her fur damp with sweat and her luminous eyes gleaming in the semi-darkness. She stretched, cat-like, and tugged her shirt over her head, finally revealing all of her to him. If he hadn’t already been trying to catch his breath from their last round, it would have been gone in an instant.

She rode him, a languorous pace that drove him nearly to insanity. She chased her own pleasure, her eyes closed and head falling back, her mouth hanging open just enough to reveal her pointed canines. Law was enraptured. Perhaps it was the after-effects of his recent orgasm, but in that moment she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. His own pleasure was negligible, an afterthought. His brain was consumed only by the need to see her fall apart again, for her needs to be sated by his hands and his body.

One of his hands left its place on her silky thigh and smoothed over the skin of her stomach down to where their bodies joined. He pressed a thumb to her clit, matching her pace with slow circles around the sensitive bud. A loud mewl let him know he’d struck gold, and her hips picked up their pace against his. He wasn’t sure if he had another climax in him so soon but then she was coming around him and it was all so much, he couldn’t hold back. His orgasm dragged on so long it almost began to hurt and when, finally, the waves subsided, she collapsed onto his chest, her body heaving with his as they panted for breath.

It was a long time before either of them moved. Then [Name] let out a wide yawn. “Wow,” she said simply.

Law chuckled. “Satisfied?” he asked.

“For now,” she said with a smile. Then she yawned widely again and rolled to the side, curling up in the crook of his arm and promptly falling asleep. Law thought it best that he followed her example.

He had a feeling he’d need all the sleep he could get over the coming days.

#one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #one piece fanfic #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece imagines #one piece scenarios #smut #lemon #mink #mink reader

[uwuwriting]

Hawks w/ fem!reader who’s struggling to conceive

Request: If you're still accepting bnha requests, I was hoping you can write one for Hawks and his s/o (defs can be gender neutral, trans, etc.). I've become attached to the kiddos you have written for them and I'm wondering, what if they had trouble conceiving? From IVF to surrogacy, not everyone has an easy time making kids. Whatever route they take is up to you (whatever fits best), but I think it would be a sweet moment where they dont think they can ever have kids then BAM! Suddenly, twins. - @sykandron​ 

I’ve been reading some hc from other fandoms *cough* Haikyuu *cough* and I felt that it was about time to tackle this ask. Since I’m a 17 year old toddler you would assume that I know nothing about this. But I study biology and that doesn’t make this any easier bc I don’t know a single thing about this topic. So I did my research and I tried my best. Hope you like it. Love yaa. 💖💖💖

warnings: triggering content, trouble conceiving, some depressive thoughts. 

-Keigo and you have been together since high school and he married you last year. 

-Even though he’s a pro hero which is a very stressful and time consuming job, it doesn’t take him much time before he wants to start a family. 

-You are in love that’s for sure so a person made form your love is not hard to imagine but you are beyond concerned. 

-Keigo doesn’t have much time for himself and as much as you don’t mind not seeing him for long amounts of time but a child needs to see their father. 

-And you don’t believe that you can raise a child on your own. 

-Your relationship has been built on trust and communication, so you sit down and talk everything through him.

-If he’s being honest he has been concerned about the time he will get to spend with his child as well because he’s number 2....and that’s a handful.

-So you made an agreement.

-You would make a schedule that Keigo would have to follow unless something urgent came up and he would try to minimize his time spent at work. 

-You would give this schedule a try for a month and if he could keep it up you would begin to try for a baby. 

-Surprisingly he made it work and had to leave for an emergency only four times.

-So you got to baby making and you went at it for months. 

-When you got no results even after trying the “best” positions and eating specific foods that would make you more fertile, you started getting discouraged. 

-Keigo suggested going to the doctor to check if something was wrong, with both of you. 

-After your appointment you had to wait for some days before you could get your results back.

-And boy if they weren’t disappointing. 

-Turns out that you both had problems of your own, Keigo not having a strong enough seed and you having an overly hostile environment so conceiving would be a challenge. 

-To say your were devastated was an understatement. 

-You closed yourself off and for the first time in your relationship, there was no communication. 

-Keigo tried talking to you, tried to pull you out of your own thoughts, but to no avail. 

-Your brain was working against you and it showed. 

-You wouldn’t eat, you slept longer and became sloppy in the workplace. 

-He would find you bawling your eyes out in the bathroom and then coming out with a hollow look.

-It was killing him as much as it was killing you.

-So he did some research. 

-And when I say some I mean that he went to like 15 doctors and bought 50+ books about the issue and he came up with around 10 solutions to your problem. 

-Of course the last two on the list were the ones you wanted to avoid, adoption and sperm donation, not that you minded adopting but you wanted a small Keigo to be honest and the idea of donation was off the table. 

-You felt very uncomfortable with the idea. 

-So after he talked to you and convinced you to try what he found, you agreed to try for a year.

-If nothing came of it you would adopt.

-And that’s how it all started. 

-Vitamins and special pills, doctor appointments and hormonal treatments. 

-Nothing seemed to work and you were staring to get disappointed. 

-It was nearing the end of the deadline you had set when you started throwing up in the morning. 

-Your appetite changed and everything smelled awful, your feelings were all over the place and you couldn’t seem to control your tears. 

-Keigo was the logical one for once and took you to the doctor.

-When he came inside the room with the results of your tests with a smile so wide and bright that it blinded you, you knew something was up. 

- “I’m happy to announce that you made it! You are pregnant dear.”

-You swear that the whole clinic heard your squeals. 

-Keigo went full dad mode even though it would be some time before the baby could actually be seen on a sonogram.

-He changed his work schedule even more, staying home longer and minimizing his patrols. 

-Sure he was the number 2 hero but his baby is his top priority and you cannot change my mind. 

-When you got your first sonogram and saw them, Keigo had been called in for an emergency and try as he might he couldn’t avoid it. 

-You had to push him out of the clinic because he wouldn’t leave. 

- “The public is in danger you dumb bird!”

- “I AM NOT MISSING MY CHILD!”

-What in the world??

-You got home before him and you waited patiently, sonogram in hand and two champagne glasses one for actual champagne and one for some apple juice. 

-The moment he stepped through the door he rushed to you and would’ve tackled you if you weren’t pregnant. 

- “Are they healthy? Is everything alright? I don’t like that smile you’ve got. Is it the baby or because I ate your Doritos, I swear I’m going to buy you more!”

- “YOU ATE MY DORITOS????”

-When you raised your hands in the air he saw the pictures you were holding and he focused on that and that alone. 

-You followed his gaze and giggled, patting the space next to you and pecking him on the cheek. 

-He looked at the images in front of him and....was confused beyond belief. 

-Is..is that a baby? It looks like a shadow. Is it a shadow? Are all babies shadows? Shadow babies....

-Seeing the look on his face you let a hearty laugh before grabbing his hands and making them into fists. 

-You brought them together and traced one of them with one finger while your other hand was tracing one shadow on the sonogram. 

- “That’s one baby and that’s another baby.”

-He froze, looking at his fists with his brows furrowed until it hit him.

-Twins.

-He was having twins. 

-All this hard work for a baby and he had been blessed with two.

-He looked at you then, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as a smile made its way on his face. 

-He hugged you tightly, his tears wetting his your shirt and a string of ‘thank you’s and ‘I love you’s spilling from his mouth. 

-He was truly happy with his family.

-Just him, you and your two nuggies against the world. 

BONUS:

- “Weak sperm my ass I got you pregnant twice in one go.”

- “It doesn’t work that way you dumb KFC meal.”

- “Chicken nugget juniors disagree with you. Ain’t that right my little chicks??”

TAG TEAM AY: @brattyquirks​ , @the-arcana-fan-fic​

#my hero academia keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #bnha keigo #keigo x you #hawks x reader #mha hawks #domestic hawks #hawks #bnha

[pokelolmc]

Ectoberweek Day 2: (Pulse)

Sadly, my Ectoberweek submissions are a few days behind because of...pesonal reasons. This is what happens when I wing it last-minute, I guess (also, this one turned out much longer than I anticipated).

This one is also a crossover, with Doctor Who (featuring the Ninth Doctor), but hopefully it’s not too much trouble to get the gist of if you haven’t seen it:

ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13729906/2/EctoberWeek-2020-Collection

‘A faint spectre of a familiar wheezing noise—something roughly halfway between an electric train engine and some contraption from the mind of H.G Wells—drifted through Danny’s window, bolting him unceremoniously up off of his bed in a messy paradox of fear and excitement. A quick ghost-aided hop out of the second-floor window landed Danny safely onto the manicured lawn of his backyard with nary a giveaway crunch of grass. He leapt into a hurried sprint out to his front yard and down the footpath, a prayer on his lips that Jazz—or, god forbid, his parents—wouldn’t find it odd he locked his bedroom door for something as mundane as an alleged “nap”.

He couldn’t tell them why he was leaving, not without admitting a secret he dreaded they wouldn’t understand.

He sadly had little justification to convince him they would, considering the misery of the past hellish year that slipped by his hitherto closest loved ones completely unnoticed, let alone understood. The only person who could understand his discomfort was a once-stranger who had properly noticed, pulled him back to his feet and saved him when everyone else couldn’t.

For someone as guarded in lies as Danny, the hefty pile of trust he invested in the Doctor after only half a year still continually stunned him…

…For all the time that he had been a halfa, Danny adamantly ignored the implications of his own modified biology. As he zeroed his focus in on his early superhero-esque impression of the outcome, the notion of becoming something not entirely human sat tightly folded and stuffed into the belly of his mental closet where it could no longer hurt him—out of sight, out of mind. The notion of an otherworldly, freakish creature—one of the only two on the entire planet—alone amongst a crowd of normal humans, ready to tear him apart should they find out he was not one of their kind…

It reared its ugly head out of depths of his psyche in his nightmares.

An unfortunate doubt had burrowed its deep way into his heart that, no matter how well his family and friends knew him, the intricacies of his situation were impossible for them to understand— unlike him, they all remained fully human…powerless, mundane, living without fear of being found out as something else… Vlad, for all that he was Danny’s fellow in physical nature, remained his moral opposite. Danny lost count of just how many times that broken record had replayed his denial of Plasmius’s contemptible deal to the stubborn maniac. By all accounts, he should’ve had no one to turn to.

However, for all of the paranoid secrecy that lodged the topic close to the vest, Danny felt fare more at ease breaching it with the Doctor, minus the unpleasantness of the touchy subject matter tasting bitter in his mouth…

…“…Something wrong?”

“Can we talk about it inside...?”

The Doctor nodded carefully, letting Danny into the vast exterior of the disguised time machine and locking the door behind him.

The teenager shuffled in as the Doctor paced to a cooler bag resting beyond the edge of the main console to grab a drink for them both, returning to break his companion’s awkward silence.

“I assume this is something difficult, then?”

“Well…yeah.” Danny responded pathetically, rubbing the back of his neck as he averted the man’s gaze. “It kind of occurred to me earlier, but I’ve never wanted to think about it…”

Those ancient eyes pierced immediately into him.

“Does it have to do with your family?”

“No!” he stammered hastily, “It’s just…”

His throat moved as if possessed, his voice lowering carefully from a reflex honed for reasons he wished never had to be.

“I…what do I do?  …What if people find out what I am?”…

The Doctor’s eyes blinked almost owlishly for such a scant second that Danny wasn’t even sure if he had just been imagining it, before his features schooled into a pensive frown.

“Oh…”

“I can’t take it! I told myself I was normal, still normal, forever…but I’m just deluding myself!” his hands clenched tightly into shaking fists by his sides, “I’ll never be a normal human like everyone else again! I have powers they don’t; DNA that’s different to theirs—how different is my body, even, to a normal human’s?! How much physical, undeniable proof is there that I’m not normal?!  Have I got some sort of freaky biology that would set me apart from everyone in a hospital—that as soon as they took a look at me, they’d know I wasn’t like them?! A monster?! A weird thing that needs to be locked up?! What am I supposed to do when everyone finds out that I’m some freak?! How…how can I live with something like that?!”…

…“Danny, there’s nothing ‘freakish’ about being other than human; normalcy is in the eye of the beholder.”

Danny’s gaze sank to the floor, fighting a losing battle to keep his face restrained, eyes dodging away from the Doctor as he put a hand on the teen’s shoulder.

“You say that…but you don’t know what people are like.”

“Oh, I think a good 700 years of being acquainted with Earth had made sure I know.” The Doctor scoffed.

“You don’t know what being human is like! You don’t know what I’ve lost!” ripped itself from Danny’s trembling throat.

“I don’t, I’ll admit that—but for all it’s worth, why does it have to be something to mourn? There’s nothing wrong with having biology different to a human’s, and that’s not going to change what you’re worth or take away your ability to find a place to call your own.”

“What about my parents and the people in town? Even Tucker and Sam, forgetting what they already know, would still find me weird if they found out how deep it went! It would matter to them!”

“—You already know I’m not human; you just said so.” the Doctor replied simply.

“Do you think it would matter to me?”

Danny choked on a dumbfounded stutter.

“I…I don’t know.”

The older of the duo tapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder, trying to coax the younger’s gaze upwards, with a thoughtful pause…

“Danny, did you know I have two hearts?”

Danny snapped up to look him in the eye.

“It’s true!” the alien crowed in mock defence, “You must’ve forgotten if you don’t remember! I’m sure I’ve mentioned it at least once!”

A cocked brow from the boy told him to return to seriousness, “For all I look like a human to you, Danny, Time Lord biology has quite a few major differences on the inside; mainly, two hearts—additionally, also a respiratory bypass system in the same area. It’s quite useful in situations of air blockages. That is a clear, solid reminder that would prove me vastly different to any human who took a look—and they have, too...a hospital had the unfortunate shock of taking my bloods and chest x-rays in the 1970’s. It’s happened quite a few times since.”

Leather wrinkled as he rolled up one sleeve in response to Danny’s gaping face, offering his bare wrist to him.

“Go ahead—feel my pulse; it’s right there, double time—the vascular valves have to work twice as fast to keep up with a second heart.”

Danny cocked an eyebrow, taken aback for a few short seconds before gingerly taking the Doctor’s wrist in his hand…

…As Danny fumbled to find the right spot and gesture, the Doctor mimed with his own free hand on the wrist to guide Danny on the correct position.

He fought down the light tremors of emotion in his hand as he tried to focus on the right spot beneath the time traveller’s skin, tactile attention peeled for any slight movement.

Thump-thump,

The hybrid’s eyes shot as wide open as dinner plates.

A beat rippled under the pads of his fingers, rapidly fluttering in quickly succeeding rounds of two each third of a second…

…Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump…

A vague fog spilled into his brain an isolated fact from tenth-grade science—a snippet of the teacher’s comparisons to show the rough scale of average resting heart rates.

The Doctor’s pulse hurried like a human pumped up on terrifying high of adrenaline…all, incredibly, while still at rest. Such a pace remained impossible for a human heart to handle alone…

A chest far more bizarre than any of the freakish physiological anomalies he had ever fathomed or dreaded discovering in his own mutated body.

“How…how fast is that?” Danny stammered in awe, pulling his hand away.

“Roughly around 126 beats per minute, resting.” The Doctor grinned proudly, “That can go up to 150 when I’m running. The hearts themselves are even faster than the pulse—in rounds of four. You think that’s too different from human for you to have no problems with?”…

… He glanced over the other’s smaller frame.

“Want to try yours? Take some vitals to see if there’s anything different we need to know of?”

Danny frowned, unease starting to pool in the bottom of his stomach.      

“But, we’re in Amity Park…”

“We’re in Amity Park in the TARDIS” he corrected, “safe from any prying eyes—those walls are impenetrable. There’s no better place than here to take a look—and knowing how your own body adapted to ectoplasm will very likely come in handy later.

If not now, that’s alright—but consider it for later some time; self-knowledge is very important, and courage starts with stepping up to face what frightens you.”

“No…I’ll give it a go now.” Danny decided hesitantly.

“Alright, then.” The Doctor strolled briskly down a branching corridor, disappearing down the amber hallway.

The console room fell into silence, only broken by the faint drone of the TARDIS engines in the background. Left to his own devices in the empty room, curiosity lightly crept in over the upset in Danny’s chest, tempting him into a quick glance at his own wrist.

He’d gotten to check the Doctor’s pulse…so what about his own?...”

Read full story from beginning under cut:

A faint spectre of a familiar wheezing noise—something roughly halfway between an electric train engine and some contraption from the mind of H.G Wells—drifted through Danny’s window. He sprung up off of his bed with the suddenness of a wound-up spring, in a messy paradox of fear and excitement. Hardly a blade of backyard grass crunched under his step as he ejected himself, ghost-aided, from the second story window. He leapt into a hurried sprint out to his front yard and down the footpath, a prayer on his lips that Jazz—or, god forbid, his parents—wouldn’t find it odd he locked his bedroom door for something as mundane as an alleged “nap”.

He couldn’t tell them why he was leaving, not without admitting a secret he dreaded they wouldn’t understand.

He sadly had little justification to convince him they would, considering the misery of the past hellish year that slipped by his hitherto closest loved ones completely unnoticed, let alone understood. The only person who could understand his discomfort was a once-stranger who had properly noticed, pulled him back to his feet and saved him when everyone else couldn’t.

For someone as guarded in lies as Danny, the hefty pile of trust he invested in the Doctor after only sixth months still baffled his own judgement.

Sheer serendipity had smashed them into each other in the dirty, deserted alleys of Amity Park in the heat of late spring—in retrospect, it was only sensible that Amity Park’s run-ragged local protector was pulled head-first into the Doctor’s mission to chase down an alien threat to the town. Danny’s experience with danger, quick thinking and compassion received the unbelievable surprise of an approving eye from the peculiar “traveller”—and at the end of an averted crisis, their exchange switched from a currency of snarky banter to their inevitably unveiling secrets. Two pairs of light sapphires locked into each other’s depths, piercing through the icy surfaces to glimpse at mutually familiar reflections of loneliness and pain. With the planting of a hand on Danny’s shoulder, and the man’s lighthearted switch to a casual offer to take him on a trip (he owed the boy one for the help, was his excuse), and Danny had finally witnessed the unthinkable: the miraculous salvaging of the hitherto unsalvageable.

His childhood dream of becoming an astronaut, struck down by the brutal consequences of recklessly buckling to peer pressure at fourteen (sacrificing one half of his life to get his powers, and the other half to the ungrateful town he used them for), had somehow been resurrected from the ashes. In the blinding abyss of despair that tore from him all motivation and vision of his own meaning and future, he had finally regained sight of what he had longed for so long ago:

He was offered a chance to see the stars.

…not just gazing at constellations from the roof he vastly preferred to the entire home that sat underneath, but a chance to spare a glance up close and personal—on the densely populated planets pulled into the stars’ orbits. To bask in the colourful evidence of those stars in an alien sunrise, and set foot on the moons and asteroids bizarre geological impossibilities called their ancient homes…

One trip turned into a second…which, unsurprisingly, turned into a third…

From there, the call of Danny’s responsibility to stay in Amity brought a semi-regular schedule of visits back and forth—from Danny relearning what hope felt like from the firsthand wonders of space, to the Doctor’s frequent check-in visits to the child’s haunted hometown. Hours filled with conversation and strengthening rapport that Danny’s busy double life deprived him of having with his family and friends. A fresh perspective on the universe leapt into his life out of the blue and sat, in a worn leather jacket and raven buzz-cut, listening to his pain and pushing him to heal.

That report nagged at Danny from the recesses of his mind, insisting on the only person he could take his dredged-up dilemma to.

For all the time that he had been a halfa, Danny adamantly ignored the implications of his own modified biology. As he distracted himself with his earlier superhero-esque impression of gaining ghost powers, the notion of becoming something not entirely human sat tightly folded and stuffed into the underbelly of his mental closet where it couldn’t hurt him—out of sight, out of mind. The concept of an otherworldly, freakish creature—one of the only two on the entire planet—alone in a crowd of normal humans with the tenacity to tear him apart as soon as they knew…

It reared its ugly head in his nightmares.

An unfortunate doubt burrowed a deep beeline into his heart that, no matter how well his family and friends knew him, the intricacies of his situation were impossible for them to understand. Unlike him, they all remained fully human…powerless, mundane, living without fear of being found out as something else… Vlad, for all that he was Danny’s fellow in physical nature, remained his moral opposite. Danny lost count of just how many times that broken record had replayed his denial of Plasmius’s contemptible deal to the stubborn maniac. By all accounts, the second halfa should’ve had no one to turn to.

However, for all of the paranoid secrecy that lodged the topic close to the vest, Danny felt almost entirely at ease breaching it with the Doctor—minus the unpleasant sting of the touchy subject matter tasting bitter in his mouth.

His hasty feet scraped to a stop at a sliver of blue wood past a corner. Relieving his straining lungs, his legs strolled the last few metres steadily of their own accord, ceasing before he bumped into the hilariously unfitting shape of a 1960’s British police box at the mouth of an alleyway. An unearthly glow pulsed faintly from the lantern atop the booth, tinting the deep Aegean-blue paint with scant patches of flashing turquoise. A soft orange glow streamed out in beams from the two windows on a pair of double doors at the entrance. Danny’s fingers reached up, sensitively, to the sturdy corner framing of the booth, his eyes catching the ebony sign that read “POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX” along the length of the roof. A shudder through the wood brushed feather-light underneath his fingertips in greeting, the warm purr of an impossibly ancient—and just as volatile—housecat eagerly welcoming its familiar guest.

After a quick rap on the doors, they swung open with a long creak, accompanied by a Northern British accent rising in a pleasant tenor.

“Ah, Danny—right on time again!” faded eyebrows shot up a bare forehead under the familiar black buzz-cut. A welcoming smile spread over half the distance from one embarrassingly prominent ear to another.

“I heard you landing.” the forced cheer in Danny’s words fell in ruins to the awkward, shaky tumble they came out in.

The grin quickly turned into a serious frown, those electric blue irises lowering their gaze in concern.

“…Something wrong?”

“Can we talk about it inside...?”

The Doctor nodded carefully, letting Danny into the vast exterior of the disguised time machine and locking the door behind him.

The teenager shuffled in as the Doctor paced to a cooler bag resting beyond the edge of the main console to grab a drink for them both. He broke his companion’s awkward silence.

“I assume this is something difficult, then?”

“Well…yeah.” Pathetic as it was, it was all the response Danny could momentarily muster. His gaze darted from one side to the other and he rubbed the back of his neck, “It kind of occurred to me earlier, but I’ve never wanted to think about it…”

Those ancient eyes pierced immediately into him with a protective air.

“Does it have to do with your parents?”

“No!” he stammered hastily, “—not exactly, it’s just…”

His throat moved as if possessed, his voice lowering carefully from a reflex honed for reasons he wished never had to be.

“I…what do I do? …What if people find out what I am...?”

The Doctor’s eyes blinked almost owlishly for such a scant second that Danny wasn’t even sure if he had just been imagining it, before his features schooled into a pensive frown.

“Oh…”

“I can’t take it! I told myself I was normal, still normal, forever…but I’m just deluding myself!” his hands clenched tightly into shaking fists by his sides, “I’ll never be a normal human like everyone else again! I have powers they don’t; DNA that’s different to theirs—how different is my body, even, to a normal human’s?! How much physical, undeniable proof is there that I’m not normal?!  Have I got some sort of freaky biology that would set me apart from everyone in a hospital—that as soon as they took a look at me, they’d know I wasn’t like them?! A monster?! A weird thing that needs to be locked up?! What am I supposed to do when everyone finds out that I’m some freak?! How…how can I live with something like that?!”

Silence.

“Danny, there’s nothing ‘freakish’ about being other than human; normalcy is in the eye of the beholder.”

Danny’s gaze sank to the floor, fighting a losing battle to keep his face restrained, eyes dodging away from the Doctor as he put a hand on the teen’s shoulder.

“You say that…but you don’t know what people are like.”

“Oh, I think a good 700 years of being acquainted with Earth had made sure I know.” The Doctor scoffed.

“You don’t know what being human is like! You don’t know what I’ve lost!” ripped itself from Danny’s trembling throat.

“I don’t, I’ll admit that—but for all it’s worth, why does it have to be something to mourn? There’s nothing wrong with having biology different to a human’s, and that’s not going to change what you’re worth or take away your ability to find a place to call your own.”

“What about my parents and the people in town? Even Tucker and Sam, forgetting what they already know, would still find me weird if they found out how deep it went! It would matter to them!”

“—You already know I’m not human; you just said so.” the Doctor replied simply.

“Do you think it would matter to me?”

Danny choked on a dumbfounded stutter.

“I…I don’t know.”

The older of the duo tapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder, trying to coax the younger’s gaze upwards, with a thoughtful pause…

“Danny, did you know I have two hearts?”

Danny snapped up to look him in the eye.

“It’s true!” the alien crowed in mock defence, “You must’ve forgotten if you don’t remember! I’m sure I’ve mentioned it at least once!”

A cocked brow from the boy told him to return to seriousness, “For all I look like a human to you, Danny, Time Lord biology has quite a few major differences on the inside; mainly, two hearts—additionally, also a respiratory bypass system in the same area. It’s quite useful in situations of air blockages. That is a clear, solid reminder that would prove me vastly different to any human who took a look—and they have, too...a hospital had the unfortunate shock of taking my bloods and chest x-rays in the 1970’s. It’s happened quite a few times since.”

Leather wrinkled as he rolled up one sleeve in response to Danny’s gaping face, offering his bare wrist to him.

“Go ahead—feel my pulse; it’s right there, double time—the vascular valves have to work twice as fast to keep up with a second heart.”

Danny cocked an eyebrow, taken aback for a few short seconds before gingerly taking the Doctor’s wrist in his hand.

“Umm…how do I check for a pulse?”

“Take your index and middle finger together and put them on the wrist, underneath the base of the thumb; there’s a palpable vein there in most ‘humanoid’ species, a similar one in Time Lords as well.” As Danny fumbled to find the right spot and gesture, the Doctor mimed with his own free hand on the wrist to guide Danny on the correct position.

He fought down the light tremors of emotion in his hand as he tried to focus on the right spot beneath the time traveller’s skin, tactile attention peeled for any slight movement.

Thump-thump,

The hybrid’s eyes shot as wide open as dinner plates.

A beat rippled under the pads of his fingers, rapidly fluttering in quickly succeeding rounds of two each third of a second. It throbbed as fast as the metal-style Dumpty Humpty song he’d listened to on loop for the last two months, accelerated beyond the rabbiting thud of his heart in his chest when he ran himself ragged in the two-minute mile in ninth grade. The very rhythm of life that kept the Doctor in the universe, pushing his physiology onward, spoke clearly of the hidden contents of his ribcage.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump…

A vague fog spilled into his brain an isolated fact from tenth-grade science—a snippet of the teacher’s comparisons to show the rough scale of average resting heart rates.

The Doctor’s pulse hurried like a human pumped up on terrifying high of adrenaline…all, incredibly, while still at rest. Such a pace remained impossible for a human heart to handle alone…

A chest far more bizarre than any of the freakish physiological anomalies he had ever fathomed or dreaded discovering in his own mutated body.

“How…how fast is that?” Danny stammered in awe, pulling his hand away.

“Roughly around 126 beats per minute, resting.” The Doctor grinned proudly, “That can go up to 150 when I’m running. The hearts themselves are even faster than the pulse—in rounds of four. You think that’s too different from human for you to have no problems with?”

Sixth months of travels, venting and understanding, everything he owed the miraculous alien in front of him, won out beyond questioning.

The halfa shook his head vigorously.

“No…never…”

“Well, with the body I’ve got, yours certainly wouldn’t ever a problem for me. Even if there are people in your town who wouldn’t accept you, I do—and there will be other people out there in the larger universe who would, too. Even if you lose one place, you don’t lose the ability to find another—and I’m sure there are people already in your town who would find a closer place with too. From what you’ve said of your friends and sister, I’m sure they’d handle it fine in the end.”

“But I’m pretty sure they couldn’t take something like that in stride.”

“Oh, come on! What’s a little non-human physiology between friends?” the Doctor jabbed warmly, “An initial shock, inevitable as it is, wouldn’t end bonds that old just like that!”

He glanced over the other’s smaller frame.

“Want to try yours? Take some vitals to see if there’s anything different we need to know of?”

Danny frowned, unease starting to pool in the bottom of his stomach.      

“But, we’re in Amity Park…”

“We’re in Amity Park in the TARDIS” he corrected, “safe from any prying eyes—those walls are impenetrable. There’s no better place than here to take a look—and knowing how your own body adapted to ectoplasm will very likely come in handy later.

If not now, that’s alright—but consider it for later some time; self-knowledge is very important, and courage starts with stepping up to face what frightens you.”

“No…I’ll give it a go now.” Danny decided hesitantly.

“Alright, then.” The Doctor strolled briskly down a branching corridor, disappearing down the amber hallway.

The console room fell into silence, only broken by the faint drone of the TARDIS engines in the background. Left to his own devices in the empty room, curiosity lightly crept in over the upset in Danny’s chest, tempting him into a quick glance at his own wrist.

He’d gotten to check the Doctor’s pulse…so what about his own?

A bombardment from his brain halted that train of thought at a railroad crossing, forcing it to make way of a nuisance little car that jeered, ‘Try, and you’ll seal that proof in stone; if that pulse is anything non-human, you’re never unseeing that, you frea—’

Danny pounced at the scathing thought in defensive irritation as it sent his hands into another series of light shivers. Another part of him stepped in to remind him of the Doctor’s words—receiving a reluctant welcome by his conscious.

How different would it be? Was it any different from a full human’s at all? How different was it when he hadn’t really had a strong concept of what a normal human pulse actually felt like in comparison to his own? Using his own heartbeat as a frame of comparison for the Doctor’s was one thing—a point of reference to compare his pulse to another normal person’s, he did not have.

He pulled a deep, slow current of air into his lungs, trying to settle his nerves again as he fumbled with the posture of the middle and index finger, stumbling embarrassingly for a few seconds to find their claim on the thumb-side of his other wrist.

His nostrils flared with another deep breath as he steeled himself in anticipation, seconds dragging their heavy feet as he searched for a feeling of movement in his veins.

He froze in astonishment as plodding pulse gently thrummed to his touch.

Thump…thump…thump…

His…

That was his.

The giver of his own life—half-life—the very perpetuator of his existence; the fundamental thing that kept him alive from the inside, human and post-…the emissary of the complex organic pump at the centre of his once-human body…

A dizzying rush of…something indescribable surged through his body, bringing a surreal tickle of cold everywhere it flowed; the hairs on his arm stood straight upwards atop a desert of countless goosebumps cluttering his thin skin. A breath caught itself in his throat, straining his diaphragm as it pulled tightly around his chest. The sluggish pulse accelerated to a more vigorous flutter under the light touch, as adrenaline hit in the snap-short second his body screamed for air—responding to his own emotions in real time, like a viewing window cut neatly into the exterior steel plating of a mechanical marvel, giving a tantalising glimpse of a small section of the mechanism inside as it continued playing its part in the unknown, concealed whole…

He snapped out of his reverie as the Time Lord re-emerged into the console room, his arms cradling a steel bin stacked with medical equipment, a stethoscope coiled around his neck.

“…You know, I thought you weren’t that kind of doctor…?” Danny probed with shy wit.

“I am now!” he grinned, sapphire orbs glimmering humorously as a quick yank saved a digital thermometer from falling to its death off the top of the overflowing pile.

His head took on a slight tilt like a contemplative owl as he lay down his cargo and eyed the halfa’s fingers drawing a pattern into the skin of his wrist as his mouth seemed to temporarily malfunction.

“My pulse…it’s there.”

“Well, that’s one thing you have over other ghosts, then.”

The halfa probed hesitantly, “Is it too slow? …Is it human?”

“Hold on, let me take a look.” The Doctor insisted, brows squashed downwards in a neat line of concentration as thick, calloused hands took a hold of Danny’s wrist. The concentrated frown descended further as his throat hummed in thought for a few, lagging moments.

“That’s rather slow,” he rated, “Usually, the average resting rate for humans is between sixty and eighty beats per minute. Considering that you’re hardly an elite athlete, you wouldn’t be expected to go below forty to fifty at a healthy rhythm…but here it is.”

An uncomfortable gulp didn’t cure the tension in Danny’s throat.

“…how slow?”

The Doctor’s face stilled for a scant second in a familiar schooling of intense focus; six months of seeing the Time Lord in action told Danny that superhumanly precise calculations of the flow of time were running through that head, measuring speed in all but brief moment, like a supercomputer.

“…45 beats per minute, rounding up the half-seconds.”

“Damn…” his gobsmacked mouth fell open.

“It’s the ghost half affecting the human one, likely.” His friend explained simply. A pair of leather clad arms burrowed into the box and returned with handheld metallic box, snaking around a cuff of rough cloth on a length of rubber tubing, “What would be interesting is to see whether your blood pressure compensates for the heart rate in any manner—and what it does to your temperature, for that matter.”

Danny grimaced in anticipation as the blood pressure cuff slipped over his bicep. For some inexplicable reason, insistent check-ups back in the forgotten times his parents fretted constantly over a risk of childhood ecto-contamination had given him a mild aversion to blood pressure machines. It left a mark so strong, that being thrown violently across the pavement by a volatile ghost while fighting remained a more tolerable preference to having his blood pressure taken.

“It won’t take long,” the Doctor insisted as he picked up the thermometer he’d intercepted earlier, “Just stay still.”

Danny’s upper arm pressed in on itself like a squashed balloon about to burst; he ground his teeth together as a few, unpleasant seconds passed, relief flooding through him as the crushing push of the cuff retracted and gave his limb free room again. The few seconds of a thermometer pressing against his middle ear lasted for a few less, far more comfortable seconds before it chimed a small, synthesised beep.

He watched the Doctor’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

“Well, your blood pressure seems to be within normal human range–not compensating for the slow blood flow at all, something else must be at work...” the Time Lord quickly evened his voice, hastily attempting to salvage the second that he looked taken aback, “…your temperature, though…that’s 26 degrees.”

“WHAT!?”

The Doctor locked onto Danny with a dumbfounded look, “…Celsius.”

Danny groaned.

“You almost gave me a heart attack! …what is it in Fahrenheit?”

“78.8, almost 79.”

“Oh…wow, that’s cold. Average people are around 90-something, right?”

“Yes; 79 would be hypothermic for full humans.” he continued, his voice leaking a hint of fascination, trailing off lightly into a short, pensive silence…

“You’re not a lot colder than I am…” his voice tumbled out airy and absent, hints of buried emotion leaking through his cracks in his straining voice…

…such a foreign tone from the elder that Danny froze.

“Time Lord core temperatures sit generally at around 12 degrees Celsius—around 53 in Fahrenheit. ” he continued, “Any human that cold would be on the brink of death—or already dead.”

As soon as the cracks opened, they sealed themselves shut—the Doctor’s voice evening to a low, serious tone leaking with hints of curiosity, leaving little trace that tension had ever been there, “Whatever is happening in your body, the ghost aspect of your biology is somehow enhancing or interfering with the human body; there has to be a trace of something sourcing all of that…”

Danny blinked as the azure light of a Sonic Screwdriver emerged out of the Doctor’s pocket and intruded into the path of his vision. The shining spot smeared a line of light, alongside the device’s typical warped buzzing, as it swept through the air in all directions along Danny’s body. He fidgeted bemusedly as the screwdriver’s whine spiked to a much higher pitch as it aligned with his chest.

“The scan has just found ectoplasmic energy readings trailing through your entire body,” Danny’s elder translated as he pulled the Sonic Screwdriver back with a deft flick of the wrist, “and it’s all gathering in one place in your chest, like streams of energy all flowing into one, teeming reservoir. There, it’s a singular point of high ectoplasmic concentration, but the overall energy doesn’t seem stationary; it seems to continue flowing around the body, become attracted to the centre point and travel through it before flowing out again, temporarily spiking the energy level in that point.”

“I don’t get it…” Danny frowned.

“It’s like a…core…” The Doctor reasoned, “Like planets have cores, and atoms have nuclei; there’s a central ‘core’ of denser energy all held together in one localised area, and the rest of the energy flows around it, like an atmosphere. As the energy changes, it’s attracted closer to the centre; the centre is the waypoint that keeps all of the ectoplasm in your body on a leash—keeps it flowing and cohesive. I wouldn’t be surprised if it also controlled your ghost half itself.”

In essence, it’s highly likely that ‘core’ is keeping your ghost form together.”

The words assaulted Danny’s ears like a crack of thunder.

His hand glided to his chest, attention peeled for a single movement, a charge, anything…a sign that wasn’t the tell-tale beat of his heart…

As he settled in the very centre—just to the right of his trudging heartbeat—he found it.

A wave of surreal, visceral lightness overwhelmed him, flooding through his very bones.

A rapid, blurry buzzing flashed in and out of existence under his palm, pulsating in his chest like a crackling electrical circuit. Dizzying confusion flooded him as fear and resentment gave way to a profound sense of relief, of near-euphoria. A spark of life erupted from the blurry sphere in his chest to every tissue, every muscle, every vein and bone in his being.

His whole body stiffened in surprise, his diaphragm forcing his lungs to take in a stuttering gasp of awe.

A desperate voice cried out in familiarity from somewhere deep within him, a cry for help, a cry for acceptance…and an overwhelming sense of oneness.

‘…This is me.’

His weak knees threatened to give out underneath him, and the concerned Doctor bolted forward to grapple him under his arms as he collapsed to the TARDIS floor like a ragdoll.

“What happened?!” the words rushed out in a tense demand.

Danny’s head snapped upwards in a swift, stiff motion; their wide eyes locked. Young sapphires bore for relentless, painstaking seconds into ancient ones.

“I can feel it…” he breathed, “It’s there...”

The Doctor’s hands flew to the stethoscope around his neck, hastily uncoiling and fitting the two prongs in his ears in a frenzy as his instructions under pressure came out, clear and sharp.

“That’s it—I’m taking a look. Shirt up, now!”

Lifting the hem of his own shirt became a fumbling mess in the boy’s dazed state as the alien placed the bell end on his chest. The cold metal of the stethoscope sent shots of ice through Danny’s skin.

Seconds drudged on in the apprehensive silence as the Time Lord listened.

“…It’s pulsing…” he concluded at last in a daze.

“That buzzing in and out, right?”

“Yes—can hear the vibration.” He elaborated, “It’s very clearly there, lodged almost over your heart; it’s nearly completely mixed in with its motions…”

His voice lowered thoughtfully.

“They appear to be working in conjunction. As the heart beats, the ectoplasmic core flares up, then quickly peters out...”

A mud of dissonance lurked in Danny’s gut as those lips twitched into a restrained smile—he could’ve sworn those worn eyes above them flickered with a glimpse of conflicting melancholy.

“In a way,” the Doctor proposed, voice trailing off absently, “it functions like a second heart…”

The smile widened warmly, though hints of vulnerable emotion cracked through a strained veil of positivity.

“In a way, you almost have two hearts as well…or perhaps one and-a-half hearts is more accurate, considering its difference to a proper organ.”

The Doctor reached down and grabbed him by the wrist to haul him to his feet; Danny’s other hand clenched instinctively on that similarly cold joint above the clamping hand in response. Two vastly conflicting pulses thundered through the pair’s sensitive tactile reception as they pulled on each other’s weight—one too rapid to be a human not sprinting down a racetrack, the other too plodding and slow for one not in a deep slumber.

Two pulses at opposite ends of a spectrum of the blatantly unearthly, but simultaneously indicators of a vaguely similar common ground…

…common enough to flood Danny’s bones with a primal, euphoric relief of belonging.

“I haven’t met anyone like that in a while—we could start a club, the two of us!” the Doctor smiled proudly, “The two-hearts club…or approximately-two-hearts, I suppose.”

“Y-yeah,” Danny grinned as his uneasy legs strengthened beneath him; the realisation that he was standing without help didn’t loosen his grip on the wrist in his hand.

“The ectoplasmic output is like background electrical interference in your chest, though, so you’ll certainly never want others to be looking at you on an electrocardiogram,” he interjected casually, “but otherwise, you’re perfectly fine.

…just remember, ‘fine’ and ‘human’ are not the same. If you can’t trust your own word, trust mine—not being ‘normal’ or ‘human’ in  the eyes of planet Earth doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. Even if you came across all the close-minded humans out there who’d be happy to shove that opinion down your throat—aware of your secret or not—don’t give them that power over you and they can’t take away the fact that you’re not wrong.”

A small grin split across the half-ghost, half-human hybrid’s face.

Even if for just a small while, he could believe that.

#danny phantom #ectoberweek2020 #ectoberweek2020 day 2 #pulse #doctor who #crossover #danny fenton #ninth doctor #nonhuman biology

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXIX: Mother of the Forest

When I received the call, an open refrigerator door hummed as its light leaked through to the dim space that was my apartment. Its light chill came as a breeze while I placed a bag of grapes within. Automatic, robotic, subconscious movements: standing in place, pivoting from one item to the next. I once heard that every seven years, the human body becomes anew, the old self having died out. There was a faint memory of a self of mine, a few deaths ago, long before the idea of having children ever came to pass, who stood and bagged groceries for minimum wage, and wondering how she would balance work and getting through high school.

In that same moment, I repeated that past life, in a more private setting. Just an hour prior, I had been the customer in line at the checkout counter. The woman behind me who I assumed to be one life older than I, arguing with the cashier over an expired coupon. Her spittle flew over the counter, and the scrawny and zoned out worker covered his face with the back of his arm as a means to protect himself.

I’m better than that. I’m not that kind of person, I often told myself, although if I had any sense of honesty, I often was. Something about the desire to be right, even when you know you don’t have a case, held such a sweet and sour taste; some of the grapes in the fridge had already spoiled from my last grocery visit.

My hand reached for the bottle of cranberry juice, but it soon became out of reach as my phone vibrated right beside it. There was a disconnect – a momentary hesitation – where I stood in place.

Just put that juice away, then answer it, my thoughts buzzed and scraped across my ears. Who was I to deny them? I had no expectations that the call would amount to anything of substance. If I had to guess, it might have been my boss, ready to beg and guilt trip me into working on one of my days off. That was a foolish decision, as I didn’t even notice the name on display on the screen. If I had, I would have picked up right away.

So it buzzed. Twice. On the third buzz, the refrigerator door swung closed and I picked up the phone. That was when I saw the name on the phone and a magnetic pull from below sent all the blood in me to sink down to the tip of my soles. When I tried to speak, I thought I would only manage a gasping breath. But instead, it was a normal, if gasping, voice:

“Demetria? Is that you?”

Not since I last heard from her, several months back, did I ever think I would hear from her again. No, maybe that was unrealistic. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I would hear from her at all: a simple hi every now and then sent through text, happy mother’s day or happy birthday messages. Those were the least (or most) I could hope for. But what it was instead was a belief that she had gone down the same path of the rest of my children and was too busy with her own life to think much of me.

So when she told me the truth, that she had dropped out of college, moved to the arctic over some crush, and worked as a waitress in a restaurant, I was elated. Any shock or sense of betrayal I may have felt didn’t register because there she was, alive, and wanting to come home. One of my children actually wanted to see me! It was enough to make me want to tap my shoes together and do a little jig!

After our conversation, however, I had no choice but to be aware of the environment I was in: empty, so empty. Every little space was covered by every day objects or some assortment of clutter. Paper towel rolls, post-it notes, bowls of fake fruit, tea and coffee cups, a box of makeup from that time I was suckered into buying from a friend’s multilevel-marketing gig. That was just a small sample of things which took up space on the kitchen counters. That didn’t even cover the hallways or the living room.

It was funny, really: when my kids lived with me, I’d get onto them about cleaning the house and made sure they did so. But when it came to me, alone and (in my own mind) free, I pretty much said, “fuck it, this is my space” and let the clutter do its thing.

Well, it sure did its thing, didn’t it? Hopefully Demetria wouldn’t mind.

When it came time to meet her, I felt the pervasive feeling that she wasn’t someone I recognized. It wasn’t the green hair, although that I didn’t expect. Nor was it her coming out, which although the notion never crossed my mind, didn’t really come as a surprise, either. Her loss of interest in her studies? Unfortunate, but not unheard of, especially when one attends university. Her new interest in knives? Concerning, but I could live with it.

No, it must have been something else. Even when she tried to revert to her old self, who I knew her as, I could tell there was something different. What it was, I just couldn’t place, but a thought crept in which brought shivers across my spine:

Maybe she’s not different and maybe I just never knew her very well to begin with.

That thought didn’t know what she was talking about. As far back as I could remember, Demetria was someone withdrawn and preferred her alone time. She valued hers and others’ hygiene and was quick to judge others, but also seemed to have a good heart deep down (at least, I’d like to think so). I always tried to give her her space, as I knew I would have wanted the same if I were her.

But there were little things which made me wonder if I was perhaps living with a different Demetria than the one I raised. One such example was when I sat at the sofa, watching one of my soap operas, Young and the Breastless, when I took a quick glance beside me to see none other than Demetria, pacing about and reading a book. Well...I assumed she was reading, but the book was upside down. She shook her head while she paced, flipping from page to page.

“Nope. I just can’t get into this,” she muttered, and it sounded less disappointed and more like she hadn’t yet given up hope that she would. I leaned forward and saw the title of the book: ‘Banana Fish.’

“What’cha up to?” I asked, and the show no longer took up my attention, instead becoming white noise.

“I’m trying to get back into marine biology, so I figured I’d read a new fish textbook, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get into it,” she explained and peered up from her book.

“Are you sure it’s about fish? I see a couple of guys on the cover,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I’m assuming it’s one of those edutainment-type deals. Y’know, like Pajama Sam. Anyway, they haven’t actually talked about fish yet, but maybe it’s a slowburn textbook.”

Call it mother’s intuition, but something told me that book had nothing to do with actual fish. Props to her for trying to get back into her old interest, but she ought not to force herself.

“You know, you don’t have to get back into marine biology,” I suggested, “maybe pick up a new interest. What about knives?” That was such a weak suggestion, but it was something.

Even with her glasses on, she squinted, although it seemed less like a vision thing and more for effect, as if to say, “are you crazy, mom?!” It was weird to admit, too, but I already missed her green hair and as much as she tried to appear and act like her old self, it only seemed to highlight how much she had changed.

“What am I gonna do? Knive-ology? I don’t think that’s a thing,” she snapped her fingers for added effect.

Her old self would have just said something like, “I don’t want to make a career of that.”

I knew she had returned home due to having such a rough time with someone, but if anything, she had been more expressive. At least, around the house. I still couldn’t get her to go outside. Through every cycle of one’s life, it seemed at the core, some things remained.

Another day, I was watching a different soap opera on my day at work, this show called ‘The Good Doctor’ (yeah, generic name, I know).

“Good doctor! Your patient is having heart complications!” The assistant rushed to the good doctor in a panic. The good doctor sat at his desk with a suede suit and a polka dot tie and looked up, a bushy eyebrow raised.

“What’s the complications?” He asked, before pushing himself out from his seat.

“It’s complicated! Hurry!” The assistant urged the good doctor, who then rushed into the patient’s room. In the room, the patient leaned up from his bed, a shriveled up old man.

“Are you a good doctor?” He asked, a gravelly voice.

“I am the good doctor,” the good doctor replied, rather humbly, too.

“My heart keeps beating,” the patient moaned. “I don’t know why.”

“That’s what hearts do,” the good doctor answered, and a smile spread across the patient’s face.

“Wow, thanks doc. I’m cured!”

My viewing experience was interrupted by a plop as I turned to my right to see Demetria’s face looking back at me while she hung off from the top of the couch upside down.

“What’cha watchin’?” She asked in a tone that indicated that she was bored and didn’t really care.

“The Good Doctor,” I told her as I tried to keep my attention fixed on the show.

“Gee, I sure hope so,” she snickered. “If I was at the hospital, I know I’d want to be seen by the good doctor, not the bad one.”

I nudged her.

“Since when are you such a smart-ass?” I asked.

“You missed a lot of character arcs,” she continued the snark. “I went through several developments and regressions, and now I’m here.”

“I can see that,” I teased right back. Yes, two of us could be sarcastic.

“No, but for real, I’ve always been like this,” her voice turned quiet, contemplative. “I’ve just usually kept it in my head.”

That. That never occurred to me.

“Well, it’s fun,” I remarked. “I’m really glad to have you around.”

Her (glasses-less) eyes widened, then turned to a near-squint.

“You are?” She sounded quite puzzled by such a statement. As if it weren’t obvious to her.

“Of course! You’re my kid!”

“What about your other kids?” She pointed out.

“I love them, too, but they never come visit me. Well, Hestia does sometimes, but that’s still rare. It gets lonely here, you know.”

“What assholes,” she scoffed. I nudged her again.

“Those are your siblings you’re talking about!” I scolded, something I didn’t think I had to do. Oh well, it was a playful scold. “They’re good people, they’re just busy much of the time. Hestia’s an architect and works with various non-profit groups on the side. Hermes has his job as a fitness instructor. Then there’s Log...he’s busy being Log.”

“Sheesh, what’s with all these Greek myth names, anyway?”

I drummed up a storm of laughter, something which wasn’t really funny, but sometimes I just laughed to reminisce.

“Funny story about that…” I caught my breath. “Back when I was your age, I won a contest to go study abroad in Greece.”

“Did it come with a time machine?” She butted in.

“Are you gonna keep snarking or you gonna let me tell you?” I shot back. In response, she slunk down the couch, then sat up in a flurry of movements.

“Fire away, cap’n!” She gave me some goofy salute.

“So while I was at some museums, I met this nice Turkish guy and we hit things off pretty well. We went to a nice cafe and I got to unload my love of myth to him. That’s when he laughed and told me he was half-Greek himself, and he was visiting some family. After I went back to the states, we kept in touch as penpals and sent letters to each other back and forth. You probably don’t need me to tell you the rest.” I stopped myself. If I were to continue, it would have been a much longer story than it needed to be.

“Uh, yeah I do. What’s that got to do with giving us weird names?”

“Well, you know how there’s that tradition in our family to name ourselves after trees. My mom named me Sequoia, and she was Cypress. So when I had my first kid, all the relatives wanted to know what tree-related name I would give them. I gave it some thought and then decided that I wanted to do something different, so chose the name of a goddess I loved, Hestia.”

“Ugh, Hestia,” Demetria groaned, “it’s always ‘Hestia is bestia’ and ‘is there nothing Hestia can’t do?’ It’s grating.”

While I admit the praises seemed rather excessive, I was proud of her, just as much as I was proud of all my children in some way or another.

“Next came Hermes, and at that point, the whole family was up in arms, begging and pleading for just one tree name. So I compromised and said that if I had a third kid, I’d name them something tree-related. That seemed to get them off my back.”

“Thus, lo and behold, Log was born,” Demetria raised her head up and put her hand to her chest, almost singing out the words. Talk about dramatic.

“But then, you were born, just a few years after Log. I really didn’t expect to have another kid, and I figured to balance things out, I’d name you Sycamore. But then I decided: fuck it. You’re Demetria. And the rest was history.”

Yes. I was sure she heard the explanation before, but I suppose it bore repeating. It was just a shame that she never got to meet her father.

“What was he like?” She once asked me.

“He was a kind man. Patient, loved to listen to others. Never had a mean bone in his body. You would have liked him, I’m sure.”

“Would I have?”

“Maybe. I suppose it’s hard to say.”

Yes. Just a few months before Demetria was to come into this world, Beet Root (he took my last name) lost his life in a car accident. It was hard, to say the least. More than hard. But what else could I do? I couldn’t just stop raising my kids. So I continued on, through the grief and confusion. So it may have gone that she was born with a little bit of grief and confusion as well.

At least with the way things were, there was more time we could spend together. More things I could learn about her. There were still things I would have liked to see from her, though: making friends, finding a job, getting outside more. All things she didn’t seem to want anything to do with. I mean, she came out to me, didn’t that mean she wanted a girlfriend? It wouldn’t happen if she didn’t try.

I know, I’ll help her out, I thought in the middle of my shift. While my main job was working front desk at the Himbo Hotel, I’d sometimes work as a part-time taxi driver on the side. It didn’t pay a lot, but it was fun to meet different people, sometimes.

One person that I picked up was a tall and twig-like girl with blue and pink pastel colored denim clothing (jacket and pants) and hot pink hair.

“Are you Macie?” I asked as I rolled down my window.

“I might be,” she replied, then got in through the backdoor.

Once she was in, I let curiosity get the better of me.

“So...I’ve got a daughter,” I mentioned.

“Yeah? You want me to babysit her?” She asked offhand.

“No, no, I was just wondering if you’d like to meet her.”

“Why?”

“Well...she’s gay…” As soon as those words left my mouth, I saw her put the back of her hand over her mouth in the rearview mirror and laugh.

“Okay then, what’s she like?”

“Hmm...well...she likes...knives?” I just realized how hard it was to describe her to someone else.

“No thanks, I’m not into the hardcore type.”

“She’s not hardcore! It’s just an aesthetic thing...I think. She also likes to work out, and she’s got a bachelor’s degree in zoology.”

There. I think I listed enough positive traits.

Macie shrugged.

“All right, I’ll bite. I’ll write down my number. But if it turns out to be one of those weird catfishy things, I’m blocking both of you and leaving a one star review.”

I gulped, but couldn’t help but whisper a triumphant “yes!”

After I dropped her off at her destination, I returned home and raced to Demetria’s room to deliver the good news. I knocked on her door and after a few successive pounds, she opened up. She stood with a small towel over her forehead, a black tank top on, and working up a sweat.

“Hey! Guess what? I got a girl’s number!” I couldn’t wait for a greeting, I just had to tell her.

“Aw, you didn’t even give me time to guess…” She turned her head and looked down, disappointed.

“Aren’t you excited?”

“Oh, yeah, grats.”

“No, not for me! For you!”

“Oh. Not interested,” she turned away.

“Come on, you might like her! At the least, you might make a friend!” I urged her. She should’ve at least tried.

“I don’t wanna make any friends, especially not with someone I know nothing about.”

“It’s not good to shut yourself off in your room!” I pleaded.

“You never had a problem with it before.”

...She had a point. I shouldn’t have minded so much, but I just really wanted to help her out and didn’t know how.

“You’re right. I hope you’ve had a good day,” I softened my voice, then closed her door.

Other than watch TV and eat together, we didn’t really interact much. That was fine, we didn’t have to, but she should’ve at least interacted with someone. What I saw in her wasn’t someone who was in her room all the time, indulging in her study. Instead, I got the notion that she was deliberately avoiding going outside. As if there was something out there that she was afraid of. If that was the case, I didn’t know what.

There was one girl I managed to get her to speak to, though. Granted, it was her sister, but it was something. Especially since I knew how much she didn’t like to spend time around her siblings.

I had a video call set up with Hestia on my laptop.

“Hey mom, how’s things been?” She asked, her bright smile ever-present on her face. She was seated at the dining room in her own apartment, a much more effervescent air surrounded her while her tucked back teal hair took up a large part of the top of the screen.

“I’m good, things have been great, actually. Demetria’s living with me now,” I told her.

“Oh? I remember how freaked out you were a while back ago. It’s good to know she’s okay.”

“I know, right? Apparently she went to the arctic for a while because of a crush.”

Hestia laughed, a sort of high-pitched “ohoho” laugh.

“She always did do her own thing, didn’t she? I regret not being closer with her, but what’s done is done and there’s no room for regrets.”

“You could come visit,” I suggested. And it wasn’t just that I was lonely. “Maybe you two could hang out or something.”

Hestia put her index finger on her chin and hummed.

“I would like to, but you know how busy I can be. I won’t rule it out, though, ‘kay?”

I sighed. That was the best I could hope for, wasn’t it?

“By the way, it turns out she’s gay.”

Again, hum.

“I’m not surprised at all,” she replied, that same kind voice as ever. “Did you hear about Hermes’ new boyfriend?”

I shook my head.

“No, what’s he like?”

“No idea! But he says he has one, and he seems happy, so that’s all that matters, right?”

“Heh, guess so. Say, how’s things with your girlfriend?”

“Good, good. Aphrodite’s been helping me volunteer at an animal rescue on my days off.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Maybe you and Demetria can bond over your love of women,” I suggested. That was met with another hum.

“That’s a decent enough idea, but everyone experiences love differently, so we may be too different to relate to one another.”

Just because it wouldn’t be exactly the same, that didn’t mean the two couldn’t relate, could it? That just didn’t make sense to me. Yet when I could have voiced as much, I didn’t.

“Would you like to talk to her right now? I could go get her,” I instead said.

“Of course, I’d love to say hello to my dear sister!”

“Demetria!” I called for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she made sluggish motions toward the dining room. After rubbing her eyes, she looked my way.

“What?” She groaned.

“Wanna say hi to Hestia?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, then looked at the laptop screen. “’Sup?”

“Why hello, Demetria! You’re looking as cute as ever!” Hestia oozed joy from the swaying of her head.

“Uh, thanks. You’re looking tryhard as ever, yourself,” she replied in a flat, deadpan tone. I nudged her.

“Be nice,” I whispered. She looked up at me in response, a wide-eyed and pathetic expression on her face.

“No puppy dog eyes, either.”

“How have you been, Demetria?” Hestia seemed to wave off the snarky remark, “do you still shut yourself off in your room?”

My face felt like it was about to turn red, but Demetria seemed unfazed.

“I shut myself off in your mom,” she shot right back. As if she was some grade-schooler.

“Ew. We have the same mom.”

Yes. That same mom was listening to the two of them as they spoke.

“Uh...well…” Demetria stammered as she struggled to save face.

I snickered. Now both girls looked at me and in unison asked, “what’s so funny?”

“It’s nice to see you two get along so well,” I remarked.

The two laughed as well at that notion.

“Yes, I agree,” Hestia proclaimed, “it was nice to hear from you, my dear sister. You look well.”

“Yeah, later, spoiled princess,” Demetria shrugged, then walked away. Then, the unexpected happened:

“Butthead!” Hestia yelled back, and stuck her tongue out. Upon realizing what she had done, she put both hands over her mouth. I shook my head.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“I don’t know, that was rather unbecoming of me. Do forgive me,” she spoke all fancy, then gave me puppy dog eyes as well.

“You’re ten years older than her! You’re supposed to set a good example!” I cried out. To that, she raised and index finger and with her eyes closed, gave a triumphant smile.

“Actually, we’re both adults, so if anything, she should know better than to have such an attitude!” She declared.

Once again, I shook my head.

“Talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too, mom! Do give Demetria my sincerest of apologies!”

The video call ended. As much as that (began and) ended in bickering, it was still progress. They spoke to each other. Baby steps. Maybe after that, she would branch out a little more and –

I could only wish.

About a week after that conversation, I got off work and noticed a text on my phone. I opened up the message and I felt my heart caught in a bear trap:

Demetria: Hey, try not to worry too much when you get home, but I won’t be there. I went outside and got a smoothie like you wanted me to. It was good, but it got me thinking how I the whole time I’ve been with you, I’ve felt stuck. Not stuck because of you, but stuck because I haven’t found any interest that I’ve felt passionate about. I don’t know what I want to do and it frightens me. So I’ve decided to go off and try to figure things out. I’ll see if I can stay with Juniper for a little while, maybe a change in environment will help. Love you, and goodbye for now.

I rushed home. I tried texting her back, but it wouldn’t send. I tried calling, only to receive dead air.

Her phone must be off. But why? Is she in danger?

Frantic, unsure of what else to do, I called Juniper.

“Hey, is Demetria with you?” I asked, as Juniper answered right away.

“No? Not unless she’s hiding somewhere. Why?” She seemed genuinely puzzled by my question, meanwhile I was still hyperventilating.

“She left me a message. Said she’d be with you.”

“Huh. I haven’t heard anything like that. But maybe she’s on her way? I dunno.”

“Okay. Just. Let me know if you see her, okay?”

“Sure thing! Hope she’s doing all right!”

“Me too.”

I hung up. Next was Hestia, but not because I thought she’d know Demetria’s whereabouts, but just because I needed someone to vent to. The phone kept ringing, but there was no answer. Then it timed out.

Of course. Because she’s always doing something.

However, just a minute later, Hestia called back.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” She greeted.

“Demetria. She...she…” I had trouble getting it all out.

“Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. She ran off.”

“Oh my…”

“I don’t know what to do. She left a message saying she’d see if she could stay with Juniper.”

“So maybe she’s with Juniper.”

“I called her and she said Demetria’s not there. I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I can tell. When did you last see her?”

“This morning. Right before work.”

“That’s probably why. I’d say it takes more than an afternoon to reach Juniper’s place.”

Right. That thought never occurred to me. But then, where would she stay on her way there? Motels? What if something bad happened there?

“I’m just...I really thought she would stay. I gave her her space. I let her do whatever. But she didn’t want to make friends and she didn’t want to leave the house and –”

“...Sounds like she left the house, though,” Hestia pointed out.

“You’re right. I should be happy. She’ll be fine. She was fine before.”

“Mom.”

“What is it, dear?”

“Chill. She’s an adult. Just let her do her thing. She’s always been an independent person, so let her be. If she wants to come back, just tell her ‘no, I’ve made my choice.’”

I balked.

“I couldn’t do that!”

“I’m not saying to be mean. Look, I know this family’s known for being overly nice, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a pushover. It’s bad enough you’re a worrywart.”

“I just don’t want to be too tough. I remember how Juniper’s mom was and I told myself I wouldn’t be like her.”

“You’re not…” Hestia muttered, then continued, “you’re afraid of letting her go, aren’t you?”

That struck me. Not because of how harsh it was. No, her tone of voice was sympathetic, if anything.

“I just wanted to spend more time with her,” I began to tear up, “She didn’t stay for very long and I thought I could have some company.”

“I understand. It probably gets lonely.”

“It does…”

“It’s not too late for you, either. You can try to make friends, you can go out and have fun. You should take care of yourself, too.”

“You’re right,” my voice turned weepy, but I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. I gotta go, mom. I’m busy petting goats at a petting zoo. Did you know that statistically, one in five goats don’t get pet?”

“One of your volunteer works?” I asked.

“You know it.”

The call ended after that. So once again I was left in an empty house, full of clutter. Days went by, the same routine, and I waited for some update, some word as to where she was. So far, nothing. At a certain point, I considered adopting a ferret. I hadn’t quite decided yet, but it might help.

#remoras full #wriitng #stories #this chapter is on the short side #I admit this chapter is kind of rough in terms of quality #but thats okay #im allowed a not so good chapter every now and then

[cozywritings]

Stitches: ch1

Summary: Transferring to a new college two years in seemed crazy, but so was being a fashion major that was being double housed in a dorm building with medical majors. Meeting Shawn was a bonus to the arrangement, and everything else that happens, well, that was just fate. 

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Explaining to people that you were going to college for fashion merchandising was always a fun conversation. You usually got weird stares or the famous question “what can you do with that?” But that’s what you wanted to to. So now here you stood, in front of your dorm hall, your final suitcase in hand as you took it all in, in it’s old beige bricked glory.

For the next two years, this was your home, and as much as you’d miss seeing your family every day, you’ve lived with them for the first 20 years of your life.

When your parents dropped you off, your mom told you “Don’t think I don’t want updates every night during dinner, especially about boys. And classes. But mostly boys.” She’s always been very pushy about you having a boyfriend. Or at least one that treated you correctly.

Since you were a transfer, luckily you didn’t have to live by the usual first year dorm rules. So while you were required to spend at least a semester in a dorm, you could choose a single room., so you were on the housing website at midnight on choosing day. Sure it was more expensive than a double occupany, but your college fund your parents set up paid for your tuition, so you got one of the lucky single rooms. Considering your odd sleeping habits, your need to listen to music while you study, and a few personal reasons,  it was really best for everyone that you had a single room. Plus, now you could binge watch Gossip Girl and Project Runway on repeat without judgement.

What you just learned, however, was that your dorm was one of the few on campus that was housed by two majors. Usually they try to keep students together by major so studying is easier, but yours wasn’t just fashion majors, you were sharing a dorm with med students. Which was an odd combination, but the biology building was on one side of the dorm and the business building was on the other, and fashion majors were required to have a business minor. So it made logical sense in terms of location.

Walking into your new room, you saw all the opportunities for decor. The walls were totally bare, the bed was light enough for you to easily move it around the room, and there was a small package of dorm safe hanging hooks on the desk in the corner, along with a list of things that you were allowed to do and what was restricted.

Dropping your suitcase to the floor, you walked over to the desk and began reading your list to see if you could get a mini fridge.however, a soft knock on your door startled you, and you dropped the paper, letting it flitter down to the carpet.

You opened the door to see a tall brunette holding out a small gift bag and giving you a really nervous smile. “Hi, I’m Emily. I live just down the hall and I, uh, wanted to drop this off.” She looked at you with big eyes as you took the bag from her and smiled. “It’s got um, some popcorn and a bottle of soda in it and a few snacks and stuff. Oh! And a few school supplies.”

She was obviously very nervous, a freshamn. Technically you were too, but you understood being 18 and trying to make friends in college. Even if your first two years where at a comminuty college. She was probably doing this to meet new people and try to find some friends.

“Hi. Thank you so much! This is actually really cute and I love Dr. Pepper, it remonds me of home. It’s really nice to meet you.” The two of you finished your introductions. You learned that she was a first year med student, and that the RA’s were showing a movie being the hall’s big study loft tonight, and that’s why she put the snack bags together.

“So I guess I’ll see you tonight?” She asked, excited to have a new friend.

“Of course! I love Pretty Woman, it’s one of my absolute favorites.” Emily squealed and clapped her hands before walking off the deliver the rest of her treats the other residents. “Oh and Emily, if you ever need anything, I’m always here. Just be sure to knock twice so I know it’s you.” Her smile got even bigger, if that was possible.

“Thank you so much! You’re so sweet. I’ll see you tonight!” After waving goodbye, you closed you door and looked around your empty room again, thanking the gods you had a whole room and bathroom to yourself. You’d never lived alone before, well technically you weren’t alone, but it was close enough.

Wondering out loud to yourself you asked. “What am I going to do in here?” You eventually decided you thought the desk would look better by the window, for a pretty view while studying, and the bed would be best on the opposite wall. Tha t would make it easier to see your tv that you’s put on your dresser. When you were able to find someone to lift that heavy thing onto it, and how you were going to move it all, you had no idea. But for now you could at least plan out where the rest of your things could go, and put up the things you knew wouldn’t be in the way of the rearranging.

Things were going along rather smoothly until you heard a loud thud against the outside of your door. Opening it carefully, a tall guy with glasses tumbled into your room. “Oh fuck! I’m so sorry I stumbled over my own two feet.” He laughed, face a bright pink in embarassment.

“Oh, no, It’s alright, are you okay?” you asked and he stood up and nodded, brushing off his jeans.

“Yeah I’m good, I just have two left feet and the world’s worst balance. I’m Kyle by the way!” He smiled, sticking out a hand. You gave him the same intro you gave to Emily, he was also a fashion merchandising major, the first one you’ve met today. “So if you need any help just come get me. I took most of the intro classes already so I can give you my notes. If you’d like.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “You’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much. Are you going to this movie thing tonight?” You asked, hoping he’d join and Emily wouldn’t be ubset that you brought an extra person.

“Yeah, who would pass up a movie night? Also it’s got pizza and snacks and it’s kinda just a greeting party. Last year’s was really cool.” You talked for a few more minutes before saying goodbye after sharing phone numbers, then you were left to get ready. This thing seemed like it would have a lot more people than you thought, so you decided to take a shower after working on your room.

A few hours later, and your bedroom was now fully put together, kind of. You made sure that your sheets where clean and your bed was freshly made with the brand new white quilt your mom got you. All of your school supplies were put away respectively, and your clothes were all put in the small dresser and closet.

After taking your shower you called your mom. “Hey sweetie. All moved in and comfy?” She asked, excited for you. She was a little bummed that she wasn’t able to stay and help you unpack, but her job was demanding, and you understood. Besides, you had to grow up eventually.

“Yeah. I just took a shower. They’re playing Pretty Woman in the loft tonight so I’m going to go watch it. It’s like I never even left home honestly. That’s probably exactly what I’d be doing tonight anyways.” She laughed, knowing how you watched this movie almost every weekend and it eventually became a family tradition on Friday nights.

“Oh honey I miss you so much already! Your room is all empty and your father is already talking about a men cave.” She groaned, already fearful of the idea.

“You’re not letting him turn my room into a man cave. That’s stupid.”

“Well duh, he’s lucky I let him put his football stuff up in the living room.”

The two of you talked for a good ten minutes before she brought up the topic of boys. “Well honey, just remember. You’re living with soon to be doctors. Imagine scoring a hot doctor. Like a McDreamy of your own!”

Your mom always watched Grey’s Anatomy with you, and you laughed at her comment. “Okay mom, I’ve gotta get ready. This thing starts in an hour and I’ve got to make sure I look worthy of a hot doctor.” Your mom put your dad on the phone to say goodbye before you hung up and turned your music on, tossing your phone onto your bed.

Your mother's words in mind, you decided to redo your makeup for the movie night. Who knows, you really might just meet someone. But you’re doubtful they’d be interested in you.

Looking yourself over in the mirror, your loose and slightly messy curls, the vintage long sleeve from your cousin, and your black jeans looked presentable enough. Slipping on your vans you grabbed your snacks from Emily and your phone and made your way to the loft.

“Hey, you came!” Emily smiled when you walked in, a group of other students sat around her on the fluffy bean bags and waved with her. Kyle was with them as well, so you made your way over to them. Most of them looked like first years, but then again, so did you.

Emily went around introducing everyone “There’s a few more I know are coming. I met them last, they were talking about coming but I just don’t know where they- oh hey!” Her smile bright as her eyes shifted to look at the new arrivals.

When you turned to look for yourself, you were expecting another freshman, maybe another girl like you, who decided to show up in something other than pyjamas.

However, the person in front of you was not definatelynot a freashman, or female. He was tall and handsome. Extremely handsome. Your fingers twitched in the need to touch the curls on his head and his eyes were the most beautiful thing you’d seen.

His jeans were probably as tight as yours, and you wanted to know what was under that beige hoodie more than anything in the world, but you were getting way ahead of yourself. You hadn’t even spoken to him yet.

“Guys, this is Shawn!” Emily announced “Actually, he lives just across the hall from you.” She said, placing a hand on your shoulder. before she bent down and whispered “he’s also a junior, like you. He’s gonna be a doctor.”

Looking back at the gorgeous man before you, you watched as he grabbed a bag of popcorn and plopped down into the beanbag next to you. “Hey, I’m Shawn. We’re neighbors right? Emily was telling me about you.”

You nodded, unable to speak. “Yeah. I live just across the hall apparently.” His eyes were so pretty, and his smile was unlike anything you’d ever seen. I was almost impossible to not smile with him.

“Yeah I saw you moving in earlier. If you need any help rearranging the room just come ask. I usually study in my room anyways so I’m almost always there.” You nodded, making a mental note to ask him to help you move the tv as well

“How did you know I was thinking about rearranging the room?” You questioned, stealing a few pieces popcorn from the bag that he’d tilted towards you as an offering.

He just shrugged, “When I first moved in I wanted to do it too. I thought the desk would look better by the door, that way I could put my bed by the window so I could look out over the courtyard. Plus the sun in my face really wakes me up” he let out a soft chuckle. It was almost like everything about him was enchanting.

Smirking a little you popped the popcorn into your mouth before speaking again. “I’m going to have to take you up on that offer. I was actually going to rearrange today until I realized I needed some help. So I’m assuming you’re in a single room as well?” He nodded, grabbing a slice of pizza and a water bottle.

“Yeah I got lucky since I’m a junior but also real close to graduating next year with my program internship. l want to specialise in Pediatric Surgery.” You looked over at him in shock. There was no way he was already about to graduate, especially in a field like that. This was a man after your heart. “I know I know, I’m young. But in my 11th and 12th year I ended up at a special center for Medical studies so I got started early. I’m hoping to get into a residency soon, and wow I am talking about myself a lot. What about you?”

You smiled, giving him an earful himself of your love for fashion and how you hoped to one day work in New York, LA or even Paris or Milan. What surprised you was how interested he seemed. It was like he actually cared about what you were telling him as opposed to being obligated to listen to you drone on and on about trends and the color patterns for next fall.

“So, I was thinking tomorrow about going around campus and just finding where everything is. Are there any suggestions for the perfect studying spot? Or where to get the best foor or decaf coffee?” He swallowed his mouth full of pizza before answering.

“I’ll one up you. I’ll show them to you myself.” Before you could say anything else, a dorm adviser announced that they were about to start the movie and the lights went out as the opening credits rolled. When you felt a nudge on your shoulder, you looked over to see Shawn offering you a blanket from the backpack he brought with him, noticing your slight shaking due to the temperature of the room. You didn’t even realise how cold you were until you wrapped it around yourself, whispering a small “Thank you.” You finally situated yourself into the fuzzy bean bag, snuggling into the blue fleece.

You took a deep breath to relax and had to stop yourself from humming at the smell of cologne that lingered on the fabric. It had a nice sandalwood scent mixed with a bit of vanilla and you had to keep from audibly moaning at the smell. So instead you focused on the movie, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth. Trying to ignore the literal greek god only 6 inches from you on the grey bean bag was nearly impossible, especially since he kept looking over at you.

It was almost midnight when the movie ended, half of the dorm had fallen asleep on the floor, Emily and a few others in the group included. The rest had left right at the end of the movie to sleep in their own beds. To be honest, you weren’t far behind, but there was no way you were getting up, you were wrapped up in this blanket, Shawn falling asleep on your shoulder. You didn’t have to heart to wake him.

Technically you didn’t have classes for another week, so thankfully someone decided to start another movie. It would’ve been boring to try to fall asleep to the main menu repeating over and over until someone decided to turn it off. You smiled as the beginning music of The Great Gatsby filled the large study room. The DiCaprio version would always be the better. So you settled back into the bean bag chair, wrapping yourself tighter into the blanket, deciding to fight sleep in favor of another one of your favorite movies.

Right when Nick walks into the parlor where Jordan and Daisy are lounging, Shawn rolled over in his sleep. At first it was fine, that is, until he kept rolling and ended up halfway on top of you. His head on your shoulder and his arm draped across you, his leg curled up on top of yours as he got comfortable.

You thought about waking him or moving him off, but he looked too peaceful. Too cute. And his body heat mixed with the blanket was keeping you comfortably warm. So you let him stay there, it wasn’t like he was hurting anything.

Throughout the movie, Shawn would move slightly closer. Obviously it wasn’t on purpose, and at one point, Cheryl, another girl you’d met earlier in the night, woke up and offered to help you get out from under him. She said her girlfriend likes to cuddle so  she got really good at sneaking away since she likes to be at the gym by 5am.

“No thanks, I’m pretty comfortable and I wanna finish this movie. But thank you.” She smiled down at you, bidding you a goodnight.

“You just want to bask in the glory of the hot doctor in training sleeping on you.” She whispered, pointing a perfectly manicured nail at you.

Laughing softly, you looked up at her before shifting your eyes back down to Shawn. “You got me. Now go to sleep. You’ve gotta be up early for the gym tomorrow.”

With a laugh and a wave, she walked off, leaving only you and a few others awake to finish the movie. But that suited you just fine. No one to ask questions because they were lost due to their negligence of reading the book.

As the movie came to an end, so did your energy and willpower to stay awake. Looking down at the boy asleep on you and the room full of college students who would probably hate themselves for falling asleep on the floor, you closed your eyes. Joining the rest of the group in slumber, waiting for the aftermath in the morning.

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfiction #Shawn writing #shawn fluff #med student shawn #college shawn #shawn mendes writing #shawn fanfic #my fic #stitches

[sprnklersplashes]

heart of stone (18/?)

AO3

The sky is grey as Cady crosses the front yard to school, a dark, dusty kind of grey. She pulls her jacket tighter around her body; the air gets colder every day. She doesn’t hate winter, but she doesn’t love it either. She tilts her head up to the sky, a heavy weight in her heart as she misses the sun and the blue sky and fluffy white clouds. The world feels so small when the weather is like this.

She rubs her hand over her face, a low groan escaping her lips of its own accord. It’s not just the cold that makes her wish she was still in her bed; she doesn’t think she’s been this tired before, ever. The kind of low-battery, foggy-brained, running on fumes kind of tired. She blinks heavily and shakes her head, her exhaustion settling into her bones as the day ahead stretches out before her.

Last night hadn’t been ideal.

Sleep hadn’t come easily. Every time she got under the covers she was up again not five minutes later, her body feeling like there was a live current running through it. She gave up fairly quickly, instead distracting herself the best way she knew she could; by opening her textbook and working through the pages until she found she had finished the chapter. And so she turned it over and started the next one. They hadn’t covered that yet, but it was fine. She knew that she could teach it to herself, and that’s exactly what she did. Time melted away, just her and her pen and what became pages of notes that must have been legible that one point but blurred and distorted and turned into black scribbles that were one degree away from senseless.

She had her phone too. She keeps it on all night now. Just in case she had told herself, but it’s not like anything came from it. Not at that hour of the night. Not that there had been anything earlier either. Not a text, not a phone call. No posts from her either.

Three days. That had been how long it had been since she last heard from her in any capacity.

Cady shakes her head, cursing at herself under her breath. She rubs her eyes, debating whether or not she has time to run to the shop at the end of the road and buy breakfast. She had ended up crashing out some time after 2 am only to be woken up by her mom what felt like minutes later, hysterically telling her she was late for school. And her overtired, overworked brain took a minute to compute it before she jumped off the bed and before she knew it she was running down the stairs and thanking God for her dad being able to give her a ride there. If it isn’t cool for a senior to be driven to school by her parents, she really, really couldn’t care less.

She takes a deep breath and reaches into her pocket. She feels herself becoming more centred, her feet once again planted on the ground, and she realises that in her haste this morning, she’d forgotten to check her phone. Not like it’s a necessity for her, but it’s nice to keep up with the rest of the world and she won’t get a chance to check it properly for a few hours. Just in case there’s something important there that she can’t miss.

So she takes her phone out and pauses for a minute before turning on her data. Duh, Cady, what else would you do? Not like you can use the WiFi way out here. And she waits and she watches. Watches as her calendar reminds her she has a tutoring session after school today, watches the Mathlete groupchat pile up, watches as people like her tweet. She sorts through each like, and her heart falls a little more each time. She tenses when she gets a message and deflates when she sees it’s from Taylor, asking to borrow her biology notes. She goes through her apps and her messages one by one, checking every icon that pops up, some twice, before she finally nods and accepts it.

Nothing from Janis.

She adjusts her bag on her shoulder. She honestly doesn’t know if she’s allowed to feel this way. Whatever she’s feeling. Just… three days without talking to her girlfriend is harder than a lot of people might think it is. Maybe she’s just being dramatic. She probably is. After all, Janis seemed fine the last time she saw her. She just misses her, misses her presence, misses holding her hand and doing nothing with her. And at least-

Bam!

Pain bursts across her cheek, her cold skin turning hot in its wake as something smacks her in the face. She stumbles and almost falls, her balance failing her until the last possible moment. She closes her eyes tightly until the world feels steady again and she catches her breath. When she opens them, there’s a soccer ball rolling across the ground.

“Hey… are you okay?” There’s a hand on her shoulder and she turns around, finding herself facing a couple of awkward-looking freshman boys, all with zipped-up jackets and glad in gloves and beanies. She blinks at them, words catching in her throat. Whatever they asked her, it had faded away the moment they said it.

“We’re sorry,” one of them says. “We didn’t mean to. He-he just doesn’t know how hard he can kick.”

“It’s…. it’s fine,” she manages. She clears her throat again and straightens up. “It’s really fine. I’m fine.” She is. It’s just a soccer ball, no matter how hard it gets kicked. They didn’t mean it, and the pain is next to nothing now, a slightly warm flush to her cheek the only indication that it even happened. She’s okay. It didn’t even hurt that much.

Then why is she crying?

She backs away from them, away from their wide eyes and confused worry, as the yard begins to spin. She covers her mouth just as another sob wrecks through her body and this one is so loud that everyone hears it.

She sees herself turn away from them, sees the school get closer and closer and then she’s tearing through the halls, her head down and her hair falling past it. Hands come on her shoulder and fall away in the next second. She doesn’t know where she’s headed, why she’s running, all that she knows is that she can’t be where she is now.

She falls into a bathroom stall and pulls the lock over it, securing her in. She presses her back against the wall and pulls her knees against her chest. Her chest hurts, her throat, her head. Hurts from holding it back and shoving it down. This is the worst place she could be, confined in four walls all so close to her and the door bolted, even if that was her own choice. And who knows who else out there, listening to her.

She wishes she were on the roof staring at the sky, or in the park, or better still, back in Kenya, standing atop a cliff with no-one looking at her. Where she could scream until her throat is torn apart and cry until there was nothing left in her. If she was there she could let her voice mix with the wind and be carried away by the wind, let out everything she’s kept locked up inside. But instead she’s in here instead, and she has class, so all she can do is swallow her feelings and cry into her knees until the bell rings. It helps, but not by much.

Damian doesn’t say anything when she sits next to him. But he does hold her hand tighter than he ever has before.

                                                                                               *****

If Cady was exhausted that morning, she stumbles through her door eight and a half hours later a complete corpse. Not a figure of speech; she catches sight of herself in the mirror and flinches at what she sees. Her skin is paple and dark smudges stand out under her eyes, her hair is tangled and messy and falling out of the ponytail-bun she put it in at lunch. She leans against the wall and leans her head against the wall as a long rush of breath escapes her lungs. She keeps her eyes open only because she feels if she closes them, she’ll pass out right here.

At least she’ll probably fall asleep easier tonight.

She pushes herself off the wall and heads to the kitchen. Her lunchbox is still mostly full; she wasn’t really hungry today. Maybe she’ll reuse it tomorrow, she thinks. Her hand is on the doorknob and she’s two seconds away from turning it until she hears a voice that’s familiar but doesn’t belong in her house.

“And you’ve seen them work before?”

“Oh they worked wonders on the kids in Africa,” her mom says. “And we don’t need them here. You take as many as you need, Lauren.”

Cady’s eyes go wide. Janis’ mom? In her house? She presses a hand to her mouth and slowly lifts her hand from the doorknob. She presses herself against the wall and freezes, all her attention focussed on what’s on the other side of the door.

“Thanks so much,” Laura sighs. “I mean when Janis mentioned these, I know she wasn’t thinking about herself, but you know, I think they’ll be perfect for her.” She chuckles, but it doesn’t sound right. Too dark. “That is, if she’ll agree to eat them.”

“Well we have ones with little chocolate chips in them,” her mom adds. But Cady knows that isn’t what Laura meant, and her mom must know it too. “And the kids back in Kenya all liked them. As did Cady’s friend last year. Besides, they just take up space here now.” Kalteen bars, Cady realises, and among the prick of guilt, she puts the pieces together and feels sick at what it must mean. “If nothing else, it’s worth a try.”

“It is,” she agrees. “Probably healthier than bulk buying her donuts and letting her rip into them.”

“You do not.”

“Last week Alex came in with a whole box,” Laura says. “Her doctor doesn’t disapprove. Anything to keep her weight up, he says. Everything else goes out the window.”

Cady closes her eyes, her nails digging into her cheeks as she pictures Janis, her Janis, and how thin she is now. Her collarbone poking out of her skin, how loose her bracelets are on her wrists now. How when she holds their hand, Cady feels like she might crush her if they hold too tightly. She never told her she was worried about it, but she can never ignore it either. She just didn’t know if it was something to worry about.

Well, guess she has an answer now.

“She’s digging her heels in about the meat thing though,” she goes on. “I can’t count how many times she and Alex have had that talk. She swears she’ll wither away before she eats an animal.”

That’s my girl Cady thinks, pride blooming in their chest.  

“Well, she’s stubborn,” Cady’s mom says with a note of admiration. “You couldn’t shake that out of her.”

“I know,” Laura sighs. “Kind of wish I could though.” Cady takes a step backwards at that. She feels as though she’s crossed a line just by listening. That this isn’t any of her business, even if it is about Janis. Not every detail of her girlfriend’s life is about her. “Anyway, thanks for these, Rachel.”

“Oh, any time Laura.” Cady pauses. She doesn’t think her and Janis’ moms have ever exchanged more than a few words with each other. Not hostile, but not friendly either. Just casual, polite, formal conversations while one waited for their daughter to be ready. Heck, one day she and Janis had actually tried to quote “parent trap our parents” (Janis’ choice of words) and try to force them into being best friends. Cady had been cautiously optimistic, but gave up before Janis did, reminding her that they can’t force their moms to bond. If it happened, it’ll happen.

Who knew that when it did, it would be over Kalteen bars?

“And… Cady?” Laura asks, and she jumps at it, looking over her shoulder like she’s about to be caught. “How’s she holding up?”

“Oh she’s… she’s holding,” her mom says. “Tough as nails that one.” There’s a pause, and then, “I’m so glad they found Janis. You know, I never thought I’d see Cady as happy as they were when we first moved here, but then I see them with Janis and it’s just…” She sighs. “You know.”

“Yeah. Janis is the same,” Laura says. “You know… oh she’ll kill me if I tell you this. But sometimes when Janis is on painkillers at the hospital… she’ll just start babbling on about Cady.” She laughs, and her mom does too. Cady doesn’t, but her cheeks glow pink. “I’m just so glad she’s got Cady. I mean she’s always had Damian, but still. I think Cady’s keeping her sane, you know?”

Cady gasps a little. She her eyes are wet, but unlike this morning, she’s not hurt. She’s never doubted that Janis likes her. She’s wondered why sometimes, but she’s not really doubted it before. She just never thought she meant that much to her either. And dare she say it… it feels good.

Cady hears the scraping of chairs and jumps from the wall, running over to the door and opening it. When the kitchen door opens, she’s just stepping through it, twirling her keychain around her finger.

“Mrs Sarkisian,” they greet. “Um, Laura. Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just came round for coffee,” she explains. She shifts her large shopping bag behind her. “How was school?”

“Oh you know,” they say. “Same old, same old.”

“So your mom tells me that you’ve applied to Carnegie Mellon,” she says. “That’s a great school. You’re applying for math, right?”

“Yep, that’s right,” she replies. “Uh, it’s mathematical sciences, so it’s tough, but it’s everything I love, so…” She tugs on the straps of her backpack, the tension visible only to her. “So… how’s Janis doing?”

“You know,” Laura says. “Powering through it. She misses you.”

“I miss her too.” Her hands tighten on the straps. “Would you tell her for me?” Laura’s face softens at her request.

“Of course I will, kid.” Laura pats her shoulder, a fond smile on her face before turning to Cady’s mom. Cady’s eyes are drawn to Laura’s bag, where the boxes of Kalteen bars are sitting. They seem to burn through the fabric and fill the room with smoke. They hold Cady’s attention to tightly that she doesn’t even notice Laura leaving until the door is closing behind her and her car starts up in the driveway.

“So… how was school?” her mom asks.  

“Fine,” she says.

“And how was your tutoring?”

“Hm?”

“Your tutoring,” she says again. “After school, you said you were tutoring.”

“Oh yeah, that was fine,” she says. She folds her arms tightly over her chest. There’s a phantom sting on her cheek from where the ball hit her this morning, even if the redness has long since faded. As have the tears, but the worry never does. She can see the Kalteen bar in her mind’s eye, sitting on Janis’ table, and wonders if she’ll ever tell her.

“I’m going to go start my homework,” she mutters, and she’s running up the stairs before her mom can say anything else.

                                                                                               *****

Cady jolts awake, a yelp emitting from her throat and a high-pitched ringing in her ears. She pushes herself, her hair a tangled mess in front of her face and blinks until her eyes can stay open on their own. Her room doesn’t feel familiar at first, her bed not her own. She waits, panting heavily like she’s finished running, until the ringing dies down and the ground beneath her starts to feel solid. She drags a hand over her face and shakes her head, her mind feeling rusty and lagging like an old car engine.

It takes her a minute to register another sound, not in her head, and another minute still for her to put two and two together and reach under her pillow to grab her phone and turn off the alarm.

She does know it’s wrong for her to sleep with her phone under her pillow like that. It’s a fairly recent decision, taken after one day when the impossible happened and Janis texted her when she was asleep. It’s not the best plan, the health risks alone would kill her poor father if he found out, but it’s fine. She’s made it this far without something happening to her, and it’ll only be another two months. And besides, it wakes her up.

She pushes herself off the bed and wobbles as she rises, her legs unsteady. She stretches out her back, her spine creaking like an old rocking chair. Damian has made jokes about his body feeling like an old man’s, and while she’s laughed, she���s never understood it until now.

When she turns around, she’s greeted with the sight of her textbooks and notes strewn across the bed and around the floor, mostly sprawled open and all tossed haphazardly. She rubs the back of her neck, embarrassed even if she’s alone. The sight of her books treated so carelessly unsettles her, almost making her guilty. She’s used to treating her school things with respect, or at least being gentle with them. Her friends call her type A, or a nerd, but she knows how lucky she is to have books like these. Since her first day in North Shore, she’s treated them with the care they deserve.

She makes up for her misstep by picking them up carefully, smoothing out the bent spines and creased pages. She realises she doesn’t actually remember “going” to bed last night, other than moving her studying from the desk to the bed. As she picks up her notes she finds highlighters and pens as well, hiding in the folds of her duvet. It comes back to her, sitting up with the pages against her legs as she worked, and then a fuzzy image of her lying down comes to mind. She’s pretty sure the light was still on when she did, as she told herself it was just for a minute.

“Famous last words, Cady,” she whispers to herself. Satisfied with how her bed looks, she slides her phone out of the waistband of her jeans, having almost forgotten to check it. Like she ever could, really. It was a habit she picked up in her plastic days and has hardened in the last months, and one she pays for with headaches and itchy eyes. She honestly wishes that she could stop, but she keeps going anyway, her one excuse is that it’ll end once this is all back to normal.

And sometimes, it pays off, like today, when at the top of the screen is a message from Janis, and her heart does a flip. It’s a long one too, two actually because it’s Janis and of course she did that. One hand types in her passcode while the other dances and fidgets at her side.

‘Hi babe,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry, I know it’s been a hot minute. I’ve just felt pretty out of it these past few days. Nothing I can’t handle. Anyway, miss ur face a lot. And the rest of u. So what’s happening on ur end?’

Cady presses her hand to her mouth to keep the squeal inside. In amongst the delight and the ecstasy of it, there’s this immense feeling of relief washing over her, coming from too many places for her to pin down. But it doesn’t matter. Janis is texting her, and that means she’s fine, and that’s all that matters.

‘I really am sorry it’s been so long. I wasn’t like, really sick or anything, I was just really tired a lot of the time and I didn’t want to text you when I wasn’t physically capable of holding a conversation. And I know you’re busy with school and Mathletes and stuff. Anyway, yeah, still miss ur face. Text me when u can???’

Cady sits down on the desk, pressing her thumb into the wood as she reads the messages again, once for joy and the second because well…. Janis was tired, she says. That’s not abnormal, she’s tired most of the time. So it shouldn’t bother her like it does.

She takes a deep breath and replies, telling her that it’s fine that she’s been quiet (it is) and that she misses her too (she does) and that she’s been seriously busy (she wishes that weren’t true) and then finishes it off with a reminder that she misses her (because it’s seriously, seriously true). She hovers for a minute, waiting for a reply that doesn’t come. Of course, she thinks. She’s probably on a round right now.

She’s downstairs when it hits her that Janis didn’t mention the Kalteen bars at all, and she doesn’t know how she feels about that.

                                                                                               ******

“You doing okay?” Damian asks her. They’re standing at his locker; the hallway mostly empty which is a miracle in itself. This one time on this one day is one of the few times the two of them can run to their lockers without being swamped, and the added bonus is that they can hang out for a few minutes too. Right now, Damian is looking at them through narrowed eyes, seemingly searching for an answer. They just shrug at him and tug on the straps of their backpack.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You just seem a little bit… on edge today,” he says. “Something happen?”

“No, no.” They shake their head firmly, their ponytail swinging with the momentum. It’s only now that they realise they’re tossing their phone between their hands. They turn it on quickly before making a point of shoving it in their pocket. They shake their hands out, ignoring they feel without it. “Nothing like that, really. In fact, I’m great.” He raises an eyebrow, which translates to a rather sarcastic-sounding really?

Cady has to wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that she can now understand Damian’s eyebrow movements.

“Well, I got a text from Janis this morning,” they say, folding their arms for emphasis. “So yeah, I’m doing pretty good.”

“Oh,” he says, and his lips curl into a smirk and then to a smile, his face growing soft. Something in the air shifts, the tension fading as the few people in the hallway fade away and he says gently, “I’m glad she’s back.”

“Yeah,” they whisper as he closes his locker. “Same here.”

It’s more than just having her back; they think as Damian slings his arm around their shoulders and walks them down the hall. Yes, they missed her, but it’s more a confirmation than anything else; that she’s okay, despite everything, that mentally and physically she’s doing what she needs to be doing. That she’s on the right track, and soon they’ll all be back to normal.

They wonder if Damian feels the same, if he has a similar prick of anxiety every time his phone buzzes. He seems to be handling this far better than they are, dancing along where they’re stumbling. Not that he isn’t worried, he’s just handling it better than they are. They’re glad of it and they sure as hell hope

Damian leaves them off at their history class. He gives them a friendly pat on their head, but his smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes, a look on his face that if they didn’t know any better, they’d call worried.

“You take care of yourself, okay?” he asks, his voice all gentle and soft.

“Sure,” they say, although they don’t quite get what he means. The question came out of the blue. “Um… you too.” He nods and pats her shoulder again, that look of parental concern staying in his eyes. There’s an awkward pause, and Cady’s about to turn to go into the class before he pulls them into a quick, tight hug. He squeezes their shoulder one last time before he finally walks away, the ghosts of his arms still lingering around her body.

Cady stands and watches him go, waving to some people, chatting to others. He looks the same as he always has, just Damian, bundle of laughs, giver of hugs, human teddy bear Damian. And they feel immensely stupid. This whole time they’ve been assuming that Damian is handling this thing pretty well, better than they are anyway. They guessed it helped that he comes equipped with a sunny outlook on life, and so believed he was fine. All it took was a hug to prove them wrong, and he probably didn’t even know he was doing it.

They turn and head into the classroom, a feeling of helplessness clinging to their back.

The history lesson is interestingly enough. History isn’t a particular strong suit of Cady’s, but they don’t hate it either. It’s kind of fascinating, learning about the past, there’s just so much information to consume and regurgitate. And reading, so much reading, cherry picking the ‘important parts’. Unlike math, where everything is important. Janis likes it though. She’s even said that even if she’s planning on doing art next year, she might apply for history as a back-up. Cady doesn’t quite understand the appeal of it, and while it’s usually interesting enough to keep their brain engaged, today they’re far too distracted to pay attention.

About halfway through the class, when Ms Winters is still getting to the point about the industrial revolution, Cady feels their phone vibrating against their leg. They almost drop their pencil in shock, their eyes bulging wide. As they look around, they can see no-one else heard it, although they also feel the weight of more than a few looks on them, their expressions half-concern, half-pity. Like ‘oh poor Cady whose girlfriend has cancer’.

Their cheeks flame red, but they slide their phone out of their pocket anyway, eyes trained in front of them until the last possible minute. Another trick from their plastic days. Their fingers swipe across the screen as though guided by invisible hands and when the moment is right, when Ms Winters’ back is turned completely, their eyes move downwards.

They’ve barely started replying to Janis before their name is called and they actually leave the seat for a moment when they jump. When they look back up, they’re met with the sympathetic eyes of their classmates and the irritated gaze of their teacher, stopped in the middle of writing. The word “legislation” is half written on the whiteboard.

“Something you’d like to share, Cady?” she asks.

“No.” They swallow and their throat feels like sandpaper. They clear their throat and try again, louder this time. “No ma’am.”

“Mm-hm.” Ms Winters steps over in their direction. “And what’s on your lap, Cady?”

“Nothing.” They turn the phone over and attempt to press it between their legs, knowing putting it in their pocket is too much of a risk. Ms Winter’s eyes harden and Cady’s stomach drops.

“I’m not an idiot, Cady,” she says. “And I’ve been teaching a long time. I’ve found out people far more subtle than you are right now.” She holds out her hand and Cady bites back a scream. “Hand it over.”

“No.” They aren’t sure they actually said it at first, convinced it was just something in their head, until they see the disbelieved expression on Ms Winters’ face.

Around them there are two types of people. Those who watch on with concern and those who watch like it’s the latest episode of their favourite drama.

“I’m sorry?” she asks.

“Sorry,” they mumble. “I just-I can’t. I can’t give you it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because-” It sticks in their throat. There are words in their mind, true as true can be. But when they open their mouth, nothing comes out, but their grip on their phone grows tighter. Anxiety builds and builds inside them and they’re just left stuttering, their face growing hotter and Ms Winters getting more impatient. Eventually they look up at her through blurred eyes and whisper “Please.”

“Nice try, Cady,” she says, not unkind but not kind. “But you know the rules. Hand it over and you can have it back later.”

Cady looks around as if someone will help her, but no-one does. Of course no-one does, what can they do except look upset and mouth ‘I’m sorry’ at them.

Slowly, they hand their phone over, the air feeling more like mud that they drag their arm through. Ms Winters takes their phone and they let out a little squeak when it’s taken away. Like she’s taken away a limb instead of a phone.

They can’t pay attention for the rest of the class. They can’t even work up the effort to pick up their pen. They can only sit there with their dry eyes and empty chest, their mind spiralling as they watch the minutes crawl slowly by.

When the bell rings, they make a beeline for the desk.

“Ms Winters?” Their voice sounds so far away. Ms Winters looks up at them, a flicker of annoyance behind her glasses, and Cady clenches their fist at their side. That’s not what’s needed here. “Can I have my phone back? Please?”

“Cady,” she sighs. She looks away from her computer and leans on her desk. “I know you’re a good student. And I know you have some exceptional circumstances this year. But” she emphasises. “I can’t be seen giving out special treatment to students. You know the rules and you know my class policy on phones.” She turns her attention back to her screen and waves Cady dismissively. “You can come back and get it at the end of the day.”

“No!” They sound so strong now, strong enough to shake the trees outside. Now it’s Ms Winters’ turn to jump. “Look I’m sorry, but you can’t take away my phone. Okay I’m begging you. Give me detention, make me do lines, make me do all your marking, I don’t care. Just give me my freaking phone!” They’re so worked up they just about remember to slip in a “Please.”

“Cady-”

“Yes, your policy,” they interrupt. “I know you have a policy on phones, but you haven’t had to enact it on me yet. Come on I’ve had a great record this year. So just give me my damn phone.” Their hands are shaking, tears running down their face. It’s only through sheer willpower they don’t drop their knees. “Come on!”

“I don’t like your tone much,” she says.

“Frankly, I don’t care!” Cady snaps. “I don’t care how you feel about my tone or anything. All I care about is you giving me my damn property back, you cow!”

Ms Winters hears the words before Cady hears them themselves. The ringing in Cady’s hears starts to clear and they hear what they said echoed back at them at double the volume, and their hands fly to their mouth.

That isn’t them. That’s not how they talk to people, to anyone, let alone teachers. Not even when they were plastic. It’s like they set off a bomb in the middle of the classroom and now they’re standing in the debris, watching the smoke clear and being shocked when they see the match in their hand.

It’s then that they realise they didn’t say cow, they in fact said something else, and they feel sick.

Ms Winters splutters at first, but then her face hardens and Cady gulps.

“Well,” she begins. “In all my years of teaching, I don’t think I have ever been spoken to by a student like that,” she whispers. Cady opens their mouth to apologise, but all that comes out is a squeak. “I’ll give a call to Mr Duvall. And see what your parents think of this.”

Cady lets out a gasp and it turns into a sob. It doesn’t feel real, nothing from the past half an hour does. It shouldn’t be, they’re not this kind of person, they know they aren’t. They’ve spent every day making sure they don’t become this. It’s like they’re standing outside watching this happen.

They turn around and head out the door, not daring to ask for their phone this time.

After school, they head down to Mr Duvall’s office. According to his secretary, their parents are on their way. Just the words your parents makes their stomach turn. Maybe the people passing will think they’re sick, pale as they are. They suspect the secretary must think that too, because she moved the trash can closer to them and asked them if they wanted some water.

Ms Winters stalks past them, giving them no more than a sideways glance before heading into the office and for the first time since history class, Cady feels angry. Ms Norbury would never treat them like this. And as out of line as they were, they like to think they might have earned a little bit of sympathy.

“Cady!”

They turn to their mother’s voice, equal parts angry and worried. Their dad is with her, looking bewildered. They shrink into the seat like a little kid and pick at their nails, tearing them off their hands. Their parents take seats on either side of them and they’ve never felt so claustrophobic.

“What happened kid?”

“Didn’t Mr Duvall tell you?” they ask. “I yelled at a teacher.”

“He told us, yes,” their mom says. “But we want to hear your version of events, Cady.” Her hand is on their shoulder and all they can think is how they don’t deserve it. “What happened?”

“She-she took my phone off me.” They realise how pathetic they sound when they say it. “She wouldn’t give it back and I-” Their breath hitches in their throat and their dad wipes their tears before they can.

“And… why were you on your phone in class, Cady?” he asks softly. He reaches over and squeezes their hand. “Or should we guess?”

“I-” They shake their head, the voice in their head urging them to keep it inside. Because if they start now they might never stop. But on the other hand, this weight hurts so much.

They have to take three deep breaths before they can say it.

“I was texting Janis.” Her mom hums in agreement, her hand on their back. “And… I don’t know. I’ve missed her so much.” They look straight ahead at the wall. It’s the truth, but not the real one. “And I…. I keep thinking what if something happens and she calls me and I’m not there to pick up the phone.”

“Something good or something bad?” her mom asks.

“I don’t know,” they confess. “Bad, I guess. I don’t know. I just keep thinking what if there’s some massive development and I don’t know about it. What if-” They almost can’t bear to say it. “I keep thinking what if she’s suffering or she’s really, really sick and I don’t know about it?” They bury their face in their hands. “I’m so scared that next time I see the text from her that it’ll be bad news.” They let out a shuddering breath. “And what if she’s sitting waiting for me to reply and feeling like I don’t care? What if the last thing she saw me say was something stupid?” They press their hands against their mouth. “I can’t… I just can’t-” They choke on something and the last defence comes tumbling down. “And I’m worried all the time. I’m worried about her losing weight and I’m worried about her being sick and about her being tired and I’m just so worried all the freaking time! And I’m tired of it!”

They fall silent after that, slumped forward, exhausted from telling them, from living it. On some level they must have known it, but it feels like they’re realising most of it for the first time. Their head spins with it, Pandora’s Box opened and all that darkness swirling around her mind, threatening to sweep them up and let them get lost in it.

“Oh, Binti,” their mom sighs. “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us about this?”

“Guess I thought I had it under control,” they mumble. They sniffle. “I was wrong.”

“And that’s okay,” their mom says. “It’s okay that you were wrong. What’s important is how you move forward.”

How they move forward? They can’t see forward. They can’t even see right now.

“Mom,” they say quietly. “I know about the Kalteen bars.” Their mom freezes beside them, fingers curling in their hair.

“Oh,” is all she says. Then her arm is around their shoulders and squeezing tightly.

“I… I don’t know how to handle this,” they confess in a broken voice. “I don’t know what to do anymore.!

“That’s what we’re here for,” their dad says. “Okay? We’ll go home, we’ll figure all this out. We’ll make this okay.” He rubs his hand on their leg. “We’ll fix this Cady. Have a big, long talk about it.” He rubs her cheek. “Get all those nasty emotions out. Then we’ll work out what to do, okay?” He strokes her hair. “You aren’t doing this alone, sweetheart.” They feel, more than see, their parents’ eyes meeting over their head. “You shouldn’t have had to. But now we’ll fix it.”

It sounds nice. And even better than that, it sounds doable.

“Okay,” they whisper. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“Great,” their mom says. Just then, the door creaks open, and Mr Duvall asks if they’d like to come in. Ms Winters is already on the other side of the glass and Cady tenses.

“All right.” Their mom stands up and straightens their dress, hitching their purse on their shoulder. “Now, I’ve got a few choice words for this teacher of yours.”

#mean girls the musical #cadnis #mean girls fanfic #cady heron #janis sarkisian #cady x janis #mean girls broadway #fic: heart of stone

[missbeautyandherbeast]

Enough (now on the right blog)

Donatello x Reader

Summary: All your life you had been ‘overweight’. And no one would let you forget it, and certainly not your family. A few years and moving out seemed to fade the problem a bit but there were still side effects. But nothing you couldn’t handle... right? You had a new life and an incredibly loving boyfriend to always pick you up...right?

A/N: This is deep stuff. Please, all of you, read with caution. this isn’t a light topic and I know that. I am not asking for advice or your opinion, I am writing about my feelings and experiences through an outlet that lets me sort through them easier. This is a sensitive subject for many of you as it is me, be a decent person.

Warnings: Eating disorders, body dysmorphia, panic attack, fluff I promise.

@im-a-loser-for-tmnt-deactivated

I had known the turtles for a few years. They found me my senior year of high school and I was halfway through my college career, it deciding to run longer than I thought because I switched my plans so that I was going to double major.

 Raph teased me constantly about my intelligence and good girl persona and I let it slide. He was jealous. I could live with that. And I had, from a lot of other people too. And I knew I was smart; my 34 ACT score was attesting to that. I didn’t brag though. Donnie did enough of that on my behalf. 

Before we had gotten together, I would lend him my textbooks. Whether it was Calculus, or Latin, he went through each one, always asking for more. I eventually got a library card just so that I could keep getting him more books. That turned into us studying together—I needed my Latin book after all, and though learning it sucked hard, it wasn’t as bad when Donnie was by my side trying to untangle the language with me. Now that I was in my third semester of it, we were both pretty good and had well over a thousand flash cards. 

I could tell that he was disappointed by my lack of science textbooks. He knew that I was an English and Classics major, I didn’t need science for that. I took my social science of Psychology during my first semester. He never pressed me on it, but I could always see his eyes searching for them with each book I brought.

 I had my prejudices against science. Were they reasonable? Yes, but not in the way that anyone else would, think. And Donnie didn’t know I had them at all, yet he was smart, he probably inferred it. He still didn’t press it. Until one night when we were talking about something completely different did the topic come up. 

“You need to eat.” His eyes narrowed, offering me the mostly empty box of pizza.

 It smelled mouthwatering and looked so appetizing, but I refrained. I had already eaten twice today. That was all I allowed myself. 

“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled, closing my eyes and leaning back on the couch. “Just tired.” 

“Because you haven’t eaten enough.” His tone was a bit harsher than before, and he said it as if it were obvious. 

“I ate today!” I almost growled. “What more do you want?” 

“You need more energy,” He backed down at my aggressive tone. “You’re doing a lot more these days, all of the back and forth from here to home to college. You need energy.” 

I looked up at him to see a soft expression on his face, pleading. I shook my head and folded my arms.

 “No,” I whispered, unsure of my voice. “I’m not going to.”

 He sighed and threw the box onto the coffee table then rubbed his face, giving into my stubbornness.

 “And why not?”

Maybe my battle wasn’t over. 

“Because I will throw up.” I tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible, but Donnie knew me, he could hear the pain and sadness underneath.

 Without a word he pulled me into his lap, cradling me as if I were the most precious thing in the world. I wanted that to be true, but it felt so far from the truth. 

“You know you’re beautiful,” He murmured into my hair softly. 

I wanted that to be true too. Shrugging, I rolled my eyes. He chuckled sadly. 

“I guess it doesn’t help that I think you're sexy then?” He mused slightly.

 I almost laughed. I would have if this weren’t the subject. Instead, I held my tongue. He sighed again, something thoughtful this time. 

“Of all the things, why would you fret over your looks, my love?” He pondered. “You seem to like me, and I’m not exactly the ideal body image.” His joke wasn’t lost on me, I just wasn’t in the mood. 

“You weren’t raised being told to look like an athlete and being so far from one,” I whispered. “And now... I’m in a school with thousands of volleyball players and sorority girls and...” I trailed off. 

“No one wants them any more love, if you haven’t noticed, you’re kind of in style right now. Call it what you may, a fad or something more, but you are accepted in society as well as in my heart.” He murmured, rubbing my arm. “And speaking medically, you’re fine too.”

 I went absolutely rigid at his last sentence. Suddenly I needed out. I couldn’t take him touching me. My senses shut themselves down, as the words I yearned to scream clawed their way up my throat. 

“I will never be accepted medically. I will always be overweight and unfit to every doctor and physician.” I bit out venomously, making my way out of his arms. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. “And I can’t change that.” 

My voice sounded uneven as I balled my hands into fists. Donnie was shocked at my outburst and quickly tried to pacify me. 

“Those charts are always wrong, Y/n, love.” He stood, coming toward me. “They account for male body types, not females, and you’re biologically different,” I backed away, shaking my head. 

“Please, just leave me alone,” I begged and headed for his room, the one we shared whenever I stayed. 

I slid down against the closed door and no longer fought against my tears. Sobs wracked my frame as I tried to curl up smaller and smaller. 

I was never enough. I could never be enough. Science would never accept me. It would always tell me I’m wrong. It will always tell me that I’m not beautiful. How can I argue with what everyone calls fact? 

There was a small knock on the door, maybe an hour later. 

“Y/n?”

 It was Donnie. Of course, it was. His voice was small and timid. 

“Love, please,” He begged. “I’m so sorry. I know I went overboard. I’m not used to hearing you talk like that, hurting so badly. Please, don’t shut me out. I’m glad you told me,” He paused, as if he were to debate continuing. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to what you were actually trying to tell me. I’m sorry that I butted in and overreacted. Please, I didn’t mean to make it worse like I did.” I could hear him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

 Silent tears made their way down my face once more at his words. I pulled myself off the floor and headed for the bathroom. After a long hot shower with the water scorching my skin, I found an old hoodie that I could hide in for the night before I made my way to Don’s lab.

 He was there, like I knew he would be, staring blankly at his computers, not giving them much attention. I paused and bit my lip. Something in my action tipped off his acute senses. “

Y/n?” He asked, his eyes hopeful and filled with sorrow.

“I showered,” I announced slowly as if the task were more of a feat. 

He gave a soft smile and opened his arms for me. I made my way to him slowly and curled up in his lap. “I know I didn’t help the way I wanted to,” He confessed in a low voice. “M’sorry baby girl,” 

I didn’t speak for some time and I didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Society accepts me.” I began. “You accept me, even I do at times, but...” I shook my head. “They never will.”

 We both went silent at my words, Donnie absentmindedly rubbing my arm again. 

“It’s why I hate science. And will never take a biology class.” My voice was hoarse. “And why I don’t go to the doctors when I’m sick.” I chose my next words carefully. “They put me on trial with false facts. Facts that change over the years... and I’m still found guilty. I’ll never be enough for them.” 

Donnie nodded at my little speech and rocked me gently. “You’ll always be enough for me,” He pulled me closer, “Right where you are. All the hurt and brokenness, it’s enough to me.” 

For the first time in my life, I was enough for someone, just the way I was.

#donatello x reader #donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2016 #tmnt donatello 2016 #eating disoder things #body dysmorphia #you're beautiful #i promise #itll be okay

[radramblog]

<untitled uni ramble, i guess>

I’m about 4 or so months away from finishing my master’s degree, and I’m not sure what I’m doing after that.

(fair warning this ended up way more bitter and resentful than I expected :v )

In high school I definitely knew I wanted to do science, but beyond that, I didn’t know what I wanted. After I had a particularly awful teacher in year 10, and realised he was one of the school’s primary physics teachers, I elected not to pursue that line, inadvertently crushing child me’s wanting to be an astronomer (and, though it would take a while to drive the point home, dad wanting me to be an engineer like him). To be fair, I probably would have bounced off of it pretty hard, too much complicated maths I could never really get my head around. At that point my mum was still pushing for me to be a doctor (did she ever really stop?), so hey, Human Biology looks good, and I was pretty good at Chemistry and it runs in the family so why not, right?

The latter took much better than the former, and while I would continue Chemistry into my undergrad, any human element of the biology I studied was left at the door. Rather, I split my options as wide as possible in first year, trying to sample bits of Biochemistry, Genetics, and Pharmacology, the former of which being the main one to resonate with me. Chemistry, I thought, was a shoe-in, but I might as well get the double degree going, since I’m clearly capable of it.

And then I got sick of Chemistry. Failing the last unit definitely didn’t help, having basically only one friend in it didn’t either (I knew a few others in Biochem-related fields and had made a few mates in that course). I felt burned out on it, felt like I was only really completing that unit out of obligation and restriction rather than wanting to do it. I suppose no-one really wants to repeat a unit- that year, 2019, I’d argue was the worst (certainly the most wasteful) of my life, and having that failure weighing down on me didn’t help. But I got through it, and now I have a nice shiny piece of paper that says congratulations you’re good at science. It’s a shame my grandmother, a professor of Organic Chemistry in her time and a large part of the inspiration for me to go down that path, couldn’t see me reach that milestone.

But that piece of paper doesn’t say that I’m good enough at science to get a real job.

For that you need postgrad in this day and age, and its likely that still wouldn’t be enough. My options were twofold- Masters or Honours, Chemistry or Biochemistry. The latter was simple, I just wanted to drop Chem like it was hot, I’d been burned before (literally once or twice), and the former was made easier by the realisations that A. Masters would only take 3 semesters if I didn’t fuck it up and B. Honours isn’t universally recognised, particularly in the United States since I have a citizenship there. So I just audibled into that degree, and here I am now, 2/3rds of the way through it.

Maybe I’m just down because COVID has made Uni the last year a massive pain, despite my surprisingly solid marks. I haven’t been in the lab since 2019, after all, and another year beyond that for a Biochem lab specifically. But either way I’m beginning to wonder what the point of this is. Research is not something that’s a great idea to get into if you want a stable career, especially here these days, but I don’t want to sell my soul to some massive corporate lab. What else is there for a biochemist to do, though? Where else can I apply these skills, ones that depression and imposter syndrome barely let me acknowledge? I just don’t know, and I’m sick of people asking me what I want to do, because it feels like I’ve just gone with the flow for the past…forever.

Uni starts again in a week and a half. 12 weeks (plus a few for exams) later, I should have an actual, honest to god, postgraduate degree. Where the hell do I go from there?

#ramble #personal #real shit

[perspective-series]

Exposed Perspective (7)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Guilt, fear, panic, being trapped, people being used/treated like test subjects and injury.

THIS IS THE THIRD STORY IN A TRILOGY. READ “A Third Perspective” AND “Switched Perspectives” FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE!

(Check the reblog for the links to the previous chapters and the TWO prequels!)

———————————————————————————————

“Fascinating.” Dee breathed, staring down through the lens as he turned the knobs this way and that. “Oh, simply marvelous!” It was in this tedious fashion he continued, inspecting every inch of Virgil’s hair first. As he moved onto the blood slide, a pounding at the door startled the professor so much that he nearly dropped it entirely.

 Virgil jumped, startled at the sudden sound. Patton, too, jumped awake and both looked at each other as they recognized the sound. They grinned, it had to be their humans!

“Be careful!” Dee yelled to the other side of the door, quite irritated by the interruption that had nearly destroyed his progress. Of course, he was sure it was just those meddling kids again.

“Dr. Dee?” A voice that was most certainly not one of the previous students made the dean pale. “May we come in?”

 The borrowers’ smiles fell. That wasn’t Logan, Roman, or Thomas’ voice. They looked at each other with panic. 

“Oh, ah, not right now!” Dee hurried to explain, already attempting to push the table closer to the door. “I am quite preoccupied at the moment and unable to open the door-” Before he was able to succeed, the door creaked open, revealing four figures on the other side.

“Well, it’s a good thing I have a key myself, then.” Dr. Picani noted, flanked by three friendly faces who looked ready to murder the dean. Dee gulped.

 The borrowers’ panic left as soon as they saw their three friends. “Guys!” They both shouted at the same time, though Patton’s shout came out a little quieter as he was still a bit dizzy. The fourth human with them threw them off but if he was willing to help them out then they couldn’t complain.

“Virgil!” “Patton!” All three students rushed over to the cage, relief flooding their features as they completely ignored Picani’s startled looks. Dee tried to step in front of them briefly, only for Roman to promptly punch him in the nose. The dean groaned, falling to the ground and clutching his face.

“Roman!” Picani gasped, shocked at his behavior. 

“Sorry professor,” Roman said, not at all sounding sorry as he didn’t even look over his shoulder before joining the others.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked worriedly, practiced hands unlocking the cage.

 “We are now,” Virgil said as he grinned up at Logan and helped Patton up, Patton swayed on his feet and Virgil winced. “But Patton might need some help. Dee took a lot of blood from him.” Patton just nodded.

Logan only nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he carefully scooped up Patton. 

Roman stepped forwards next, putting a hand out for Virgil.

 Virgil climbed on readily and happily, settling down in the center of Roman’s palm. “I am so glad you guys are here.” Virgil felt as though he could cry.

 Patton just barely registered he was being held now and looked up at Logan with a tired smile. “Hi, Logan.” Patton greeted, his words slightly slurred.

“Hi Patton,” Logan said softly, holding Patton close to his chest.

“...what happened to your hair?” Roman raised an eyebrow as he pulled Virgil out.

 “Ugh, he happened.” Virgil pointed to Dee, who was still on the floor, with one hand as the other went to where his hair was cut. Virgil grinned though. “Nice punch by the way.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, looking pleased with himself despite the fact his knuckles were bruised.

“How dare you.” Dee snarled, getting to his feet by clutching the edge of the table. “You come in here, defile my work, invade my sacred zone-!”

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Thomas commented, ducking around Dee towards the door. The other two followed, both clutching their borrowers possessively. 

“Hold on a moment.” Picani put out an arm, stopping them all in their tracks. His eyes lingered on the tiny people. “I think you all still have a lot of explaining to do.”

 Virgil flinched, suddenly remembering the fourth human that had come in with all of them. He grit his teeth. He was tired of all these humans stopping him from leaving. He just wanted to go home. “Alright, fine.” Virgil surprised himself by speaking. “He kidnapped us and tried to run experiments on us while completely ignoring the fact that we are sentient beings with feelings. End of story, now let us go home already!”

“How could you do such a thing?” Thomas turned to Dee, looking distraught. He still couldn’t believe a human was capable of such malice.

“Thieves!” Dee protested. “Liars, hooligans, the lot of them.” 

“Ah...perhaps this would be a good time for a more...civil discussion.” Picani took a moment to look sternly at Roman, who didn’t even look sheepish.

“It’s not my fault his face appeared so punchable, professor.” Roman shrugged. As Picani’s gaze grew harsher, Roman had the good sense to duck his head and at least attempt to look repentant.

“Upstairs, my office, all of you.” Picani paused, looking at Logan. “It seems your claims were well-founded after all.”

The students began to follow Picani upstairs, as did a begrudging Dee. Both Logan and Roman kept him at a safe distance, keeping an eye on their respective borrowers.

 As the borrowers were brought along, Patton looked up at Logan. Things were getting a little clearer which was nice. “Who’s that? Patton asked Logan, motioning towards the new human.

 Virgil, hearing Pat’s question, couldn’t help but wonder the same thing.

“Doctor Picani,” Logan explained in a hushed tone. “He’s the true head of the natural sciences department, which makes him Dee’s superior.” 

“Sorry about him.” Roman looked down at Virgil apologetically. “We didn’t want to get any other humans involved, but… we really didn’t have any other options.”

 “It’s...okay. He got you to us and us away from Dee. That’s all that matters.” Though Virgil glared at Picani’s head. “As long as he stays on our side...we should be fine.” Virgil wasn’t too keen to trust another person of science though, not so soon anyway.

The group reached Picani’s office, a large room with a wooden oval desk. On one side Dee sat down, and on the other, the students sat. Picani went into an adjacent room, pulling out an ice pack and offering it to Dee before taking a seat next to his fellow professor.

“Thank you, Picani,” Dee said in an almost sickeningly sweet tone, clearly trying to get on his colleague’s good side. 

“Dee, do you know why you’re here?” Picani asked, looking concerned.

“You took pity on a few students who wanted to sabotage my work.” Dee shrugged, glaring across the table.

“It’s for a far more serious reason, actually,” Picani explained. “Logan here believes you are guilty of illegal experimentation.”

“Oh, is that so?” Dee leaned over the table towards Logan. “I think he’s just mad because I took his pet away.” 

“They’re not. Pets.” Logan growled, his fingers curling protectively around Patton. “How dare you accuse them of such a title when they each possess more humanity than you could ever hope to achieve.”

 “Yeah!” Patton exclaimed.

  “Also, he literally just admitted to kidnapping us, which I believe is illegal, right?” Virgil said, directing his words at Picani.

“Ah, yes that would be correct.” Picani nodded, still looking a bit thrown off. “I’m sorry, who are you, exactly?”

 Virgil sighed. “I’m Virgil and that’s Patton.”

 “Hi!” Patton waved.

 “Like I said before, we’re the sentient beings Dee kidnapped and planned to experiment on.” Virgil crossed his arms.

“I see.” Picani’s eyebrows furrowed.

“This is all just a big misunderstanding!” Dee protested, leaning back to look over at Picani pleadingly. “Surely you can understand a single mistake in my long history of beneficial research to this institution.”

“One mistake, huh?” Roman scoffed.

“I have in my possession files indicating over two decades’ worth of ‘mistakes’,” Logan explained, adjusting his glasses. “Countless violations of the human code of ethics throughout your means of research that you so tactfully hide in your papers yet fail to hide in the video evidence you’ve accumulated of every interaction.”

Dee paled. “How did you…?”

“I have a certain interest in computer hacking,” Logan smirked. “Consider this payback for all your cruel grading these last few weeks. Which, coincidentally, is biased and also illegal.” 

Indeed, ever since Dee had turned on Logan the biology student had set to work digging up dirt on his foul professor in the hopes of having the faculty member removed from the institution. It seemed his hard work was finally paying off.  

“Logan sent me the files and the evidence speaks for itself.” Picani shook his head sadly. “I wanted to give you the chance to share your side of the story before I take this case to the board of trustees.”

Dee looked across the table, eyeing the group with a certain amount of scrutiny. “So it seems I’ve finally met my match…” He chuckled softly.

 “Heck yeah, you did! You won’t be bothering us anymore!” Virgil yelled at Dee and smirked smugly. 

 Patton, who was slowly but surely getting less dizzy, grinned. That was definitely a nice thought. Not having to deal with Dee anymore.

“Dee, this is no laughing matter,” Picani explained sternly. “It’s very possible that you will go to jail for this.”

“Oh, most certainly.” Dee looked almost bored, pulling out his phone with his free hand. 

“...what are you doing?” Thomas asked, confused. The professor didn’t answer.

“Hold this, boy.” Dee tossed the ice pack at Thomas who caught it with a startled yelp. Now free to use both hands, Dee typed twice as quickly. 

“What tricks are you playing, villain?” Roman sneered, leaning over the table to try and view Dee’s phone.

“All scientists are entitled to their secrets.” Dee looked meaningfully at Logan. “Of course, given the fact you’ve ruined me, I have no need for secret-keeping anymore.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Logan frowned. He didn’t like being unsure. 

“Aaaand send.” Dee hit one final button, repocketing his phone with a smirk. There was a quiet ping, and Picani pulled out his own phone.

 Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked between Dee and then at Picani’s phone before his head snapped to Dee once more in sudden realization. “...You didn’t.” Virgil said, voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to believe it had actually happened.

 Patton was still confused. “Did what?” Why was Virgil looking so pale?

“One mass email sent out to every faculty member of the college of natural sciences.” Dee held up a single finger, looking pleased with himself.

“Dee, why...why would you send this?” Picani frowned at the email’s contents. “This is just your laboratory recording from earlier today. All it does is prove your guilt.”

“Oh, it does far more than that.” Dee chuckled darkly. 

“...oh no.” Logan paled, catching on as well.

“Oh yes.” Dee grinned, leaning over and addressing the borrowers directly. “Guess who’s not a secret anymore.”

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #borrowers #borrower!patton #borrower!virgil #human!deceit #human!roman #human!logan #human!picani #character!thomas #platonic #lamp #exposed perspective #part 7

[rainecloud020604]

below the cut is a bit of a long venty self reflection.. tw: sensitive topics, the specifics are in the tags

so with quartinteen going on i’ve had a lot of time to look at myself and my actions, i have a bad habit of over analyzing things and ripping them apart. including myself.

i’ve noticed that i keep a lot of things to myself to the point where its unhealthy, i dont tell people when im upset, i dont tell people that im hurt, i dont even tell my parents when i feel sick anymore unless i feel like im dying and need medicine and maybe a trip to the doctor. Im still scared to do that...

i get made fun of and mocked, told im overreacting when im sick or hurt by my parents. its really affected me, being told to walk it off cause im being a baby or im being a drama queen for attention i dont really want. its at the point where i have fallen into a habit of lying about my health, some days i feel like utter shit and i know it will show, i will tell some people, not my parents, my friends i talk to that day. it’s gotten to the point where i was ready to kill myself because my parents wouldnt listen and take me to a doctor after i could eat or drink anything for two weeks without immediately rushing to the bathroom, that was new years eve... i almost did, it took a lot to not do that, and i scared myself, i was scared to call a hotline, i was scared to move, go downstairs, speak, after i spent 30 minutes breaking down and begging my parents to take me to a doctor i was done with life and done with trying. This really affected me and shook me up for months, it was the first time in years i had ever thought about doing that, i felt horrible and miserable cause i scared a lot of people that night. 

my mental health is even worse than my physical health all the time, i normally wont talk about it when its bad unless someone asks, i’ve been brushed off so many times by my family i no longer have that confidence i used to. my dad for the longest of time told me my depression didnt exist until my doctor did, he told me i was lying for attention, he told me i didnt have anxiety, i didnt have anything wrong and i needed to shut up and pay attention, push through it and shut up. mental health issues were tabo around my parents for ages, when we got kicked out of our house and moved in with some friends my mental issues really showed through, this was around the time i joined tumblr, my parents would fight constantly and i fled here for safety, it was clear i had something wrong, all of my sibling do as well, my brother has anger issues and doesnt know how to cope with that, he tends to hit things and hit me when angry cause i pissed him off or was in his way, he’s 11 and three times my size. im 16. my sister has anxiety and depression as well, she always drags herself down and fakes a smile to everything, she cant handle being yelled at anymore. we all have faced abuse from my parents, and then moving into a super toxic and worse place for a year made everything worse, my parents stressed and fighting to the point where we would hide and cry cause it was so much. partially through that year i snapped at my best friends dad for being homophobic, racist and sexist, i said a few things and got suspended from my school while there was a sexual predator on the campus after my friends, he was never arrested and he tried to contact me recently because he was bored. i was broken for awhile but going to the magnet school i met some people who helped me. i made a new friend. that place that was toxic we left after they tried framing us for a bed bug issue and tried making us clean the entire house, and the guy who was my dads formal best friend called my mom a few nasty things and called us all lazy and ungrateful. i had a bike stolen during the move and they refused to give it back. we stayed in a hotel for a bit, i became everyones therapist for a few days, my brothers, sisters, moms and even my dads, i couldnt vent to anyone. we moved in with my grandma, my step grandpa turned out to be an abusive asshole and attacked my aunt and almost attacked my mom and grandma one night when we were going to bed, i had both my brother and sister in my room hiding and crying, i was comforting them and telling them the yelling would be over soon. 

my grandma had her ac detroyed, license plate stolen, other stuff stolen from her as well, i was scared to walk to school for a month and had to look at the door at all times. one day he randomly busted through the door and i broke down scared as hell because i was in line of sight and the first person he saw, and was in the same room as him. it took me awhile to recover from that. later on i started failing my classes, i couldnt keep up because my old school wasnt where they were, i was ahead but behind because my motivation slacked and i didnt want to be there, i started getting really sick, i went to try to see my guidance counselor one day because i was ready to break down at everything and i needed to talk to someone and possibly go home, i saw a different one, they recommended a mental health counselor and i start counseling sessions, when i checked out the nurse shamed me for not going to her and checking out. i walked home that day and cried. i started counseling sessions after that, i was still scared to speak about all of these issues, some weeks i didnt see her, others i did, the first day my ela teacher flipper her shit cause i was late that day to her class after i was at a counseling session for part of her class cause i needed to say things and speak. i lost the confidence to talk to me ela teacher after that. she would have issues with the fact that i couldnt speak loudly at times, part of the year she hated the fact that i drew in her class to focus, it took me twice explaining it before she would let me. later on that year she accused me of doing other classwork and make me hold up what i was drawing rather than walking over, i cried the rest of her class and had a panic attack in biology venting to a friend. my parents told me i was being dramatic after breaking down and explaining how my day went. i started to stop speaking up about my issues entirely to them. 

i’ve had issues when i am sick at school, i’ve gotten grounded for going home sick, after i was told i could call home, it was because the nurse said i looked tired, she also had told my dad that he knew me better than she did so she was unsure, he told me in the car i put the family to shame and made him look bad, took away my devices, left for work while i took a nap, i woke up still sick and felt even worse mentally, i forced myself to walk and finish up the rest of the school day. it took my mom yelling at my dad to get my devices back, he guilt tripped me after giving them back and i felt horrible for the weekend. 

my dad started saying i was faking being sick to skip school, keep in mind i have never skipped a day in my life and have always enjoyed going to school, he was just pissed off. my mental health was affecting my physical health, i wasnt able to see my mental health counselor for a month, when i needed to most. 

i started developing and eating disorder again, i started to only eat one meal a day, starve myself for existing, i’ve been fighting it for awhile, it decided to get worse, i am still fighting it. i am at a point where i can handle two meals a day again which is progress. 

when quartinteen started, that ment i was stuck at home, unable to focus on my classes anymore, and my counseling sessions were done in zoom, i wasnt ever in a safe place to openly speak. i tried pushing for therapy, my parents considered and agreed, they tried to figure something out and never got back to it. everything has gotten worse, not only in my head but the world around me...

keep in mind all this, happened in two years. most of the belittling and breaking me down however has gone on for most of my life.

i dont want sympathy, i want to get this off my damn chest, i dont want attention, i was this at hand so when i need to point at something that happened to me i have to reference to while im breaking down. im sorry about all this mess and wasting time typing this out and that right now isnt the time to hear me whine. 

#rainecloud020604 vents #vent post #vent #tw: abuse #tw: eating problems #tw: ed mention #tw: suicide mention #tw: guilt tripping #tw: neglect #tw: panic attack #tw: self harm mention #ask to tag

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

The Fallen, 9/17

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 9/17.

Pairings: Nine x Rose.

A/N: Tagging @thebookster on her demand.

“We've all fallen, but at the same time we're not broken. There is the hint that we are going to get up again.” - Amy Lee.

CHAPTER 9:

The Doctor woke up a few hours later. He was feeling groggy and nauseous. He tried to get up but his limbs weren’t responsive. He slumped back on the floor. Waited a couple minutes. Or hours. Tried to sit up. His mind was clouded, he couldn’t think straight. Whatever they had drugged him with this time, it was a strong one and it wasn’t wearing off easily. He groaned and rolled on his side so he wouldn’t choke on his vomit if he was sick. His head bumped against the foot of the busted bed. Pain exploded; black dots filled his sight. He stayed still. That was for the best. Stay still and wait until he felt better. He had expected Jeremy to attack again on the next day. He didn’t see him, nor any of his pets. Nash didn’t even come. Jeremy was certainly keeping her away. Isolating the patient when he was gonna need help was a strategy to have him getting desperate. Deprived from food, water and from a person checking on him while he was recovering from torture and a strong dose of drugs was dangerous but it could be worse. The Wolf didn’t show up. The drugs had weakened the Time Entity. Worse than when they had weakened his human host. But the worst was yet to come. Indeed, his biggest problem wasn’t to see no one. It was quite a relief actually. He could be in peace in that tiny cell that stunk like Hell. No, his biggest problem was the drugs. Lately, they had taken him out of his cell regularly. Scared of what he could do, they were drugging him to make him as innocent and soft as a kitty. His body had developed an addiction to those substances and now he was gonna get detoxified the hard way. For days, he was as sick as a dog. He was vomiting and trembling and sweating. Whenever he was getting a bit of sleep, he was dreaming of Jeremy getting what he wanted; of him torturing Rose to get him; dreaming of all the bad adventures when he was traveling through time and space. He was dehydrated and in a rough shape. However, he never begged for water and food. Not even meds. He handled it all by himself. When someone finally opened the door days later, he was lying on his side on the cold dirty ground. He was barely awake. He didn’t move at all – couldn’t really – when he was kicked in the ribs. Not even a sound. There was a laugh that would have given the chills to anyone able to react and he was chained up again. No drugs. What did they have in store for him this time? Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t gonna please him. Someone pulled him up. He was so weak that he couldn’t stand on his own. He collapsed on the person beside him, closed his eyes. The walls of the room he was in were pale lilac. He smiled. It reminded him of the flashy pink of Rose’s walls in Jackie’s tiny flat. The woman would never know how many nights he really spent in that room with Rose, how many nights he had spent, sat in the dark, watching Rose sleeping. Humans needed a ridiculous amount of sleep. It was annoying. He was always so bored when she was sleeping. He could have gone on an adventure alone but it was better with two. He couldn’t stand solitude anymore. Having Rose by his side was all he desired. “You look rough, Doctor.” This time, he was the one lying in a miserable condition with a glassy look and block up ears and she was the one sitting on the edge of his bed with a mocking smile. She was getting her revenge for all the times he had mocked her for her weak condition. “Time Lords don’t get sick.” “You’re gonna tel me you’re burning up because of your superior biology?” “My body adjusts its temperature.” “You just forgot that you’re human now.” The Doctor blinked. It was true. Even with a part of the Time Vortex in his mind, he remained an ordinary human who was vulnerable to every germ. Rose had a strong immune system. She wasn’t falling sick that much. But she was always in a rough shape whenever her period hit. Something he would never understand. “You have to wake up, Doctor.” Her voice was an echo. Yet, she was just beside him. Her hands were touching his naked body respectfully. Caring gestures: a hand on his forehead to check for fever, a hand holding his. She cleaned his face with a cold wet rag. Everything he would have done for her. “You wouldn’t miss the birth of this new star! Come on, Doctor. It won’t happen for another trillion years.” “What do you know about stars, little human?” he croaked. “More than you if you sleep for another full day.” “I do not sleep. I meditate.” “It’s time to wake up now.” He opened his eyes reluctantly. The walls were grey and the bed was more comfortable than usual. He scanned the surroundings. There was no one around. The place was unfamiliar. It wasn’t Rose’s room, not even his. There wasn’t the usual hum of the TARDIS. He wasn’t in his ship. He slowly sat up. His body was still but it didn’t hurt. Not anymore. Strangely, he felt quite good. Exhausted as if he had gone through Hell and back, but good. He laced around the room. The only way out was locked. The other door was the door of a bathroom. A very tiny bathroom. He was wearing a white cotton outfit. “You have gone through a terrible week. I understand that you might be confused.” He turned around. There was a woman in the room. He hadn’t even heard the door. He was disappointed to find out it wasn’t Rose. The woman was older. She was relieved to see him awake. He was supposed to recognise her. His mind was making attempts to send him signals. He rubbed his face, tapped his forehead with his thumb but nothing came. Nothing until she put a hand on his shoulder. Her aura hit him. She was not a human being. She was a shapeshifter, and one of the most dangerous. “I don’t know what you’ve done to Jeremy but he has left after your last meeting and hasn’t come back yet.” Jeremy. The flash of a man looking just like him. But in his eyes… nothing but the darkness. A dark void. The devil in person. Or almost. He was there to hunt the Time Lords and steal their secrets, their technology, their longevity. Other species had just been a funny exercise but now was the time to beat the final boss. If you could find the secrets of the universe’s keepers, you would be unstoppable. But the Wolf had preferred ruining his brain than giving in. “Where’s Rose? What has he done to her?” He moved away from her touch. He was uneasy around her. His mind was trying to retrieve his missing memories. Rose was there. She had been taking care of him. She had been talking to him. Or had they made him believe she was there? Had they brought her here and taken her away from him? “She’s not here,” answered the woman. “She has never been here. Your friend… you’re keeping her safe. You refuse to tell Jeremy where she is.” The Doctor remained silent. His brain was overwhelmed with thoughts. It was too much. The woman gently led him to the bed and forced him to sit down before he felt bad. The last few weeks had been hard on him. He should go slow. She didn’t want him to dive back. He was still recovering. “They initiated your detoxification. They were planning on giving you drugs again when you’d be the most vulnerable. But you ruined their plans and I stepped in. Brought you up here, helped you through. You’ve been hallucinating.” “I do not hallucinate.” “With the fever you had, you definitely were.” “Why am I here?” “You won’t be here for much longer.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. Her tone was determined. She was gonna get him out of here. Today. He just needed to trust and follow her. Jeremy was away and she had distributed laced coffees to his pets. The path was free from obstacles but they had little time. She took him all the way down to the basement, to the deepest core of this asylum. His mind was flashing memories he had tried to forget. The yellow room, the purple room, the red room. All rooms of torture. That was why he hesitated to enter the green room. It was pretty naked compared to the others. Just a table with a computer and headsets to monitor a brain’s activity. He had come here before. Once or twice. This was all a blur. “We will make them believe that we did a monitoring session.” She was already working on launching the computer and headsets. She wanted a telepathic conversation with him but couldn’t do it freely. This room was the only way to do it without suspicion. The wolf inside him trusted this woman, this Nash, so the Doctor stepped in, placed the headset on his head and let Nash connect him to the system. There was a whole recording room behind the green room. Nash was fake-recording. She had gone through this process before. Not here, but it had happened. The Doctor let her in his mind and she was surprised by the nakedness and austerity of the place. She had expected it to be livelier, more colourful, but it was just a dark room with locked doors. There were two men. They were identical. A perfect copy of each other. One of the them was the Doctor, the other was Maxence. One was asleep in a corner, the other was standing straight, his arms folded on his chest, next to a silver Wolf. From the look in his eyes, he was the human host and not the Time Lord. Another surprise. ‘The Doctor has been off for a long time,’ he explained. ‘It has been me all along.’ ‘You were convincing. No one noticed anything.’ ‘We share the same memories. I know everything about him and he knows everything about me.’ ‘You all played your cards wonderfully but we don’t have much time. We need to talk.’ Her gaze was on the Wolf. It was the one in charge there. None of them blinked when Maxence collapsed to the ground. The Wolf had temporarily neutralised him to have a proper conversation with Nash. She was right. Maxence had done a fantastic job at taking the Doctor’s place. The two of them were the two sides of the same coin. That was why Maxence had been chosen to be the incarnation of this Doctor who survived the Time War. He was a strong man who had survived the worst in human terms, who had handled the burden of the Doctor like no other would have been able to. It was time to reward him for all the sacrifices he had made for the sake of the universe…

To be continued...

The Fallen © | 2019 | Tous droits réservés.

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English version:

AO3 || TS.

#doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #doctor x rose #dwfic #the fallen

[angryrabbit42]

Bonus Tracks

Here it is, my DW Secret Santa offering for @a-rose-by-any-other-doctor  @dwsecretsanta Merry Doctor-y Christmas!

I went overboard, friend. It’s going to be 5 parts and multiple Doctors.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925084/chapters/52330858

Chapter 1 - Remixed

NORWAY - BLOODY STUPID COLD BAD WOLF DAY

He looked so like Him.

Rose sat back, up against the headboard in a small room in Norway. She had managed a quick shower in the cold en suite, cursing the entire time. Her armor had been peeled off and dropped to the floor in puddles of blue, black, and magenta. She didn’t need it anymore tonight. The universe was saved. Dressed in a thin set of pajamas, she watched the new Doctor, her single-hearted Doctor buzzing about. A fire was burning merrily in the fireplace thanks to his industry, backlighting everything with a soft red-gold glow. She was the opposite of energetic yet comforted by his quick movements. He had always been manic. Normal. He was behaving normally.

Rose wasn’t sure if she was...behaving normally. Exhaustion thrummed threw every muscle, every pore, even the marrow in Rose’s bones felt heavy with exhaustion, the languid weight that held her pinned to the double bed. The only bed in the room. A bed that they were going to share… She and he were going to share. An alcoholic like warmth rushed through her at the thought. It had been ages since she’d shared a bed with anyone. And he wasn’t just anyone… He was the Doctor even if he was down a heart, he still had the gob and a pert little bottom.. Rose smiled softly. He mirrored it, eyes lit with something akin to wonder. Yep. Definitely sharing a bed with that one...if he ever stopped moving. Currently, he was pulling odd and ends out of his pockets. Rose arched a brow at the tiny plastic dinosaur that appeared in his hand like magic. He winked and added the tiny green toy to the mounting pile.

Rose’s mind drifted back to earlier. The beach had been cold, freezing even. The Tardis had left them there shivering. And if that wasn’t the best thing ever, the sky waited just long enough for the other Doctor to break her heart to open up and unleash a storm. Rose had instantly known how Sarah Jane had felt in Aberdeen. The crushing depression threatened to overwhelm her until the meta crisis had become her anchor with his hot slightly more human hand. Rose had kept slipping her gaze to his long, lanky, familiar, form. Every third time he caught her looking. His expression had been hard to read. He had either been smug or terrified or both. Rose had squeezed his hand to reassure one of them, either of them.

Mum had tried hard to get Pete to turn up with hoppers but Pete Tyler was adamant that the weather rolling in (icy rain with a hint of hail) would screw with them and the Doctor had made a face that Rose took as agreement. The trio had trudged off the beach to the small bed and breakfast that Rose had been hoping was going to be nothing but a bad memory. The cozy place filled her with dread. She flashed on the memory of being alone in a room, knowing the Doctor wasn’t coming to save her.

The Doctor had squeezed her hand. Rose had squeezed back. It was a whole conversation. He told her she wasn’t alone. She told him he wasn’t either. They had grinned. Jackie had rolled her eyes and handed them one single key. The Doctor’s eyebrows went up. Jackie rolled her eyes before leaving them blessedly alone.

“Alright?” Rose had asked.

“Yeah, yes, yes of course,” he had agreed happily. The Doctor had given her a bright boyish grin when she pressed the key into his palm. “Can’t say I want you out of my sight for oh a week.”

“A fortnight at least,” Rose had agreed, devouring each little Doctorish inch of him. His hand in hers was not as hot as a human hand, not as cool as a time lord one. He squeezed and she squeezed back, a hysterical giggle escaping her.

The pile was growing. He was on the bed now, opposite her, muttering. “That’s useful,” he said putting what looked like a small deck of cards onto the bed. There was already a cricket ball, string, two bananas, two sonic screwdrivers, one the normal one and an older model that looked like something a regular little ‘D’ doctor would check your ears with. No less than three rubber ducks appeared. A bar of soap that she recognized as her favorite from that little pink planet was dropped next to three unlimited credit sticks, a pile of largish diamonds, a box that said, ‘useful things’ in the Doctor’s loose loopy scrawl, and a pair of her hoop earrings. Rose swiped the soap and her earrings. A small protest escaped him as she deposited them onto her nightstand.

“What on Earth are you looking for in there?” Rose asked, letting her body sink back down into the bed, comfy.

Large brown eyes met hers, a worried frown appearing between his eyes. “I took it. I know I did! I slipped it in one of the pockets. I was too busy with other things to remember which… It’s important… for us,” he said cryptically and started rummaging again.

“We need sleep,” Rose suggested, patting the space beside her.

“Oh,” he paused. “Am I going to need regular sleep now? Like every night now? Woof.” He made a face, prompting a laugh.

“No more superior biology,” she sang.

He scoffed. “Half-human, not even, one-quarter human, Rose. Full of superior body bits. Still all superior biology brains,” he muttered as he rummaged. It was making her mental. “We can figure out my sleeping needs later. Soon as I… Nope.” He dumped a package of crisps into her waiting hands. She opened them and nibbled on them. The bite of vinegar made her grin. He kept on. “I need to make sure. Promise it’s worth it,” he added with a wink.

“Did you leave the… other? Doctor with anything?” Rose asked, careful not to call him anything stupid like ‘original’ or ‘real’ when this Doctor was too Doctory not to be THE Doctor. She did feel a pang of sadness for him, shoving it violently away since that Doctor had left her, er, them behind. She hoped he was happy with his choice. She’d never stop loving him. She didn’t think there was a version of the Doctor out there in the universe that she didn’t or wouldn’t love given half a chance.

“Nope!” he exclaimed. “I got all the good stuff and the best bit.”

“What’s the best bit?” Rose asked, sticking her tongue between her teeth to grin at him.

He beamed, eyes twinkling. They watched each other for a few moments reveling in being together again. Rose wondered if he was thinking about that kiss on the beach as much as she was. A pink tinge hit his cheeks and he averted his gaze back to his pockets. Oh yeah, he was thinking about it.

Rose got up on her knees. “What are we looking for?”

“Surprise, a surprise, it’s probably at the bottom. The best bits are always at the bottom. Prizes in the cereal box, Crackerjacks, jam on most Festoonian desserts… Or in the other pocket. Ow!” He hissed pulling his fingers loose and shaking off a mousetrap.

Laughing, Rose slid into his personal space. His scent was strong and familiar if mixed a bit with wet wool, and burnt electronics. The Doctor held his breath, watching her get closer. He swallowed convulsively. Rose winked, shoving her hand into the opposite pocket, leaning heavily against him. Her fingers were in what felt like Space. His pocket was chilly and massive and things were floating. He grabbed her arm to steady her. She felt for anything interesting. Her fingers gripped something twice but it felt like a fish and wriggled away. The Doctor had wrapped both arms around her, to balance her.

A weird singing seemed to be humming in the back of her mind. She concentrated on it, opening her hand wide and willing things to come to hand. Something scratchy and warm slipped by. Rose thought it might have been what the Doctor wanted. Reaching again, thinking about the scratchy texture, Rose was surprised when a thick envelope smacked into her palm. She gripped it, pulling it free of his pocket. “This it?”

Rose held up the thick cream envelope. The Doctor’s brows rose in surprise. Keeping one arm wrapped around her, effectively holding her in a half hug, he plucked it from her fingers and turned it over. Swirls like clocks and dots and weird circles with bites out of them decorated the envelope in blue ink. Rose could still hear the singing as he gripped her. It changed and flipped around a bit and Rose got the feeling of intense curiosity pulsing just under his skin. “What is it?”

“No idea,” he replied. “I don’t recall ever seeing this before,” he said, indicating the circles. She had seen them on notes around the Tardis before or on the console. “It’s for you,” he drawled, dragging the words out like taffy.

“How do you know it’s for me?” Rose asked, taking the envelope back.

He shrugged, “It’s my handwriting. I think I can read my own handwriting.”

“What does it say?” Rose asked, eying the swirls.

“Give this to Rose.”

“Oh,” she remarked.

“Oh,” he agreed.

“So, this wasn’t what you were looking for then?” Rose gathered as she moved away from him, to lean against the headboard once more.

The Doctor shook his head no, eyes blazing with curiosity.

“Should I open it? D’you think?” Rose thought it felt thick. Was it a letter from the other Doctor?

“Up to you,” he replied as he swept most of the debris from his pockets off the bed. He kept the box of useful things, the bananas, and the sonic screwdrivers. He then sat cross-legged in front of her. “Could be a message from me. Him me… Not me, me.”

“Would that bother you?” she asked, frowning.

He looked away. “Nah. Open it.”

Rose opened the envelope. It was a letter. Rose unfolded the paper carefully. The Doctor’s loopy scrawl appeared in the same blue ink as the clockwork language.

“Hand the first page to me,” the letter said and under that was his language. A message for him from Him. Wordlessly, she handed it to him. He took it, left brow at maximum arch. He scanned his page, eyes widening in surprise.

“What does it say?” Rose asked.

He waved her off. “Keep reading yours.”

The second page began, “Rose Marion Tyler, I once told you that I was a bit lost until you found me. Now it’s your turn to recover something that was lost. It’s up to you whether you want to know what I know. What you’ve forgotten… You may find at this exact point in time that you are thoroughly done with me. This me, not that me sitting across from you, the lucky sod.”

“I took these memories from you to preserve a few timelines. Want them back? Tell that grinning idiot across from you, ‘yes.’ He’ll know what to do. Also, tell him that it’s in the left-hand pocket but best wait until tomorrow for that. Let him stew in anxiety for a bit. He gets the happy ending. Let me enjoy his discomfort, even though I don’t deserve even that small pleasure from you.”

“Rose,” the Doctor’s voice was soft, “when we erm when we were touching earlier, could you feel me? Not my skin obviously or my jacket… Me. My,” he scratched at his sideburn, “mind? Just now… just then.”

Rose bit her lip. Was this the question the other Doctor was referring to? “Yes, um, yeah I think so. It was like singing or humming like in the Tardis.”

A magnificent grin lit up the Doctor’s face. “Oh, that’s--that’s brilliant, top-notch, really that’s…” he let out a boyish giggle. “Great. Good. Still telepathic then. Okay,” he glanced down at the paper.

“What does it say?” Rose asked. “No hang on, what does that mean? Still telepathic?”

“Oh, erm, I wasn’t sure. Some of my senses are still adjusting to this universe and this body. Still fizzing a bit. S’good though means that this,” he held up the paper with its clockwork language, “is a block list.”

Rose’s exhausted brain just fizzled out. “What-?”

Excitement made the Doctor crawl closer to her. “A block list. These words unlock memory blocks. Like keys. Say them in the right place, say the mindscape where they were generated and bam! Unlocked memories! We have blocked memories. Brilliant! We have more memories of us! Who wouldn’t want more memories of us! I love memories of us, honestly, the ones without you are a bit rubbish. This is like the DVD extras of our life! Do you want them?”

“What-?” Rose asked again.

“Do you want them?” The Doctor huffed. “Our new old memories, Rose,” he whined. “Don’t you want to know what they are? Don’t you want the bonus footage?” He reached out and grabbed her hands swinging them out and in. Tingling pings of happiness were slipping into her skin and shooting pink happy sparks into her heart. When she didn’t answer the pinks turned a bit blue.

“Is that a no?” He let her hands go.

“Wait, I’m tired, and a bit slow here. You’ve erased some of my memories?”

“I haven’t erased anything,” the Doctor exclaimed, insulted. “I would never. That’s incredibly… Never, I would never.” He caught her gaze, holding it, “Not unless the memories meant your death. It’s not done, Rose. That’s never--”

“Blocked then,” Rose said, laying a soothing arm on his shoulders, dragging it up and down.

“Temporarily blocked to prevent paradoxes, probably?” he popped all the ‘p’s and Rose suddenly remembered that she often wanted to strangle him when he got like this. Then laughed because she had missed that feeling and half-forgotten it, buried under other better memories. “What?”

“Jus’ I forgot how exasperating you are,” she exclaimed, suffusing it with fondness.

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Do you have to,” she tapped her head.

He nodded, frowning. “Don’t you want me to?”

“Not opposed to it,” Rose said, mulling it over. Her brain was too mushy for all this.

“Yes? Or no. Your choice.” the Doctor said, practically vibrating with interest.

Rose pulled him into a hug. “Yes. As long as I can stay very still.”

“Oh, yes, yeah that would be optimal, actually. Here-”

The Doctor spun them so he was leaning against the headboard. He draped her across his lap, placing a pillow there to cushion her head. Rose was dizzy with how fast she had been rearranged. The Doctor was surprisingly comfy for someone so bony. She kept that thought to herself, grinning as he finger-combed her hair. Rose resisted the urge to purr as warm fingers settled along her temples. A strange staticky buzzing surrounded her thoughts.

“Alright?” he asked.

Rose grounded herself in the static and little pings of colors and emotions seemed to be buried in it like when she was a kid and the TV fuzzed. “Yeah, yes, go ahead.”

The buzzing smoothed into the edges of her mind. Energy flickered through her in warm spikes and swirls. It was as if she could feel him sinking his fingers down through the skin of her face and down into the bones and past that into the grey matter of her brain. Once there, colors burst into existence and bright feelings of affection. Rose’s own thoughts were lazy with exhaustion and overwhelmed with processing the last few days. She managed a friendly wave for him.

A soothing pulse raced through her. Rose felt her limbs respond by releasing tension. His voice in her head was low and warm. “Here we go. I’ve found the blocks.”

“What do they look like?” Rose asked.

“Like jelly babies,” he remarked. “This is definitely me. I did this. I can undo this.”

“How?”

“One by one with a magic word,” the Doctor said whimsically.

“Open sesame?” Rose offered.

Gently the feeling of mirth suffused her. Rose felt her body relax farther into his. The scent of peppermint and hot chocolate rose around her. The edges of the golden snitch were already cracking and the Doctor whispered the first word into her mind.

#dwsecretsanta #Doctor/Rose

[ladyshilya]

Roswell New Mexico: Stay (I Missed You)

Let’s see if Max is really dead and if he how they are going to bring him back. Also how are they going to tell everyone about Rosa.

Episode starts off with Max and Liz in bed, well I would have thought that was promising but the way it was shot made me think it was a dream. I was right because then we see Liz crying over Max’s dead body. Rosa comes in wanting to know why Liz looks different, what happened to Max and talking about Isobel seeing her the night before. Liz tells Rosa that didn’t happen yesterday. It cuts to Liz talking with her father because she is taking the grant and moving away.

In the next scene we get a funeral which I thought was for Max but it was for Noah. When they had Michael come in drunk it really made me believe it was for Max. Isobel is up there trying to talk about Noah but she is having a hard time because well he was an asshole and she has lost her brother. After looking a photo that had Max in Isobel flashes to when she see’s Max’s body. Isobel decides that they should put him in the pod and not tell anyone about him. Basically have everyone believe he is out of town. At the house later Isobel and Liz get into a fight but I am sure a staged one because Liz says I’m sorry twice to get Liz to respond. When Michael follows Liz outside we find out that she has had Rosa at Max’s house and she is leaving town with her sister.

Rosa keeps having dreams of Noah which makes sense since he was obsessed with her and put her I a pod. Liz concerned about her Rosa has Kyle do a check up on her but he can find nothing wrong. It seems that Max healed everything wrong with her and she knows that Kyle is her half brother. Isobel really wants to believe there is a way to get Max back but Michael shows her how his heart is shriveled up and dead from what he did. Basically Max had a heart attack bringing back Rosa.

When Rosa and Liz arrive at hotel Liz breaks down crying and Rosa can hear her. I have never been that distraught that I went into the shower with clothes on. I have been distraught before, I think I have a huge aversion to getting my clothes wet. While sleeping Rosa has another nightmare and Liz makes Rosa tell her what happened. They discover that Noah has been in Rosa’s dreams which is one because she never met him. He did do everything through Isobel while Rosa was alive but I dunno maybe she saw him once. Maybe he did some mind visit while she was in the pod. Anything is possible he was an obsessed alien. Liz realizes that Rosa has a connection to Max because she knows things she shouldn’t. This means that Max is alive is some way and explains why his hand print has not faded.

Alex and Kyle head to the morgue to grab Noah’s body so they can do a heart transplant. Noah’s boys is still there because if you burn an alien it releases a toxin so that would be a bad idea. When they get there they find a different body on the slab. When they confront the doctor he told them he though Alex took the body since the guy looked just like him. It seems that Alex’s brother Flint has the body. Alex tries to get his brother to give back the body but he won’t and is head to Area 51. Rosa sees a car on the driving on the other side of the road and things it would be the perfect car to transport something anonymously. Since Flint was an ass, Rosa grabs the wheel from Liz and turns the car.

Flint wakes up from the crash and the body is gone. With Michael’s help they were able to get the Noah’s body to an area to take out his heart. Michael explains what he knows about them and their biology. He seems to think it’s organic tech, which makes Liz happy because tech can be repaired. When they open up Noah’s body all they find is a shriveled heart that can’t be uses. When Liz is talking with Rosa later she tells Rosa she studied restorative medicine because of what happened to Rosa. Liz plans on bring back Noah’s heart so it can be used on Max. Max gave her back the one thing that she wanted so now she is going to bring him back.

Rosa has another dream with Noah in in and he is choking her but he stopped form lighting from Max. Max does not look do great at all. It seems that Rosa is the only person Max can talk to and he was her to stop Liz from bringing him back. Wait, why what does Max know?

While all of this is going on Michael is having to deal with Maria being upset with him that he hasn’t called her back after their kiss. Michael tells her he is not the best at relationship and really doesn’t do them. Alex leave Michael a guitar but Michael gives it back. Alex give Michael the intake file on his mother and tell him there has to be more and he will help him find it. Michael doesn’t want to find out more and he pushes Alex away saying they are not good for each other. Michael hits a girl at the bar Maria works at and even kisses her in front of Maria. Michael also get punched from the girl guy and Maria kicks him out of the bar and takes his keys. I get it Michael has to do the loner thing but really can’t he have one of them. Right now I lean more towards Alex but really I would be happy if they let Michael do the polyam thing and have both of them.

Maria also has to deal with her mother leaving the nursing home that she has her in . It seems that sometimes Maria’s mother is lucid but she was talking about Rosa recently. On her last escape there is a light and then we see Maria looking for mother. All that is left on the ground is the bracelet her mother was carrying. I will admit to being really intrigued but Maria’s mother.

Isobel is dealing with the fact she keeps having memories of Noah. She even goes as far as to train and work on her powers so she can get stronger. When Isobel is visiting with Max wondering why can’t feel him but can still feel Noah. Isobel uses the ultrasound machine that is there and it looks like she is pregnant. Well I guess we know why she can’t get rid of Noah because a part of him is inside of her.

Well it was good start to the season. It’s not going to be an easy task to bring back Max. I think we all knew everyone was going to do everything they could to make it happen. I am guessing Liz is not going to California now. Also if they stay in town someone is going to find Rosa. Why doesn’t Max want Liz to bring him back? What does he know? What is Isobel going to do about the baby? What happened to Maria’s mother? So many questions to be answered and many more that are not listed. I really hope they do not do a whole love triangle with Michael because he is bi, let him be polyamorous. It might take some time but Maria and Alex are friends I am sure they can find a way to share. Seriously lets have multiple healthy representations on TV.

Until next episode where the group continues to find a way to bring back Max. Max continues asking Rosa to make sure they don’t accomplish it.

#roswell #roswell new mexico #Roswell reboot #roswell cw #roswell spoilers #roswell new mexico spoilers #roswell nm