#i already know so many things ill do differently next time and it just went in the oven

[userlando]

that anon is a genuis? the showering one 🥺

okay okay I’m still gonna write a full on fic but I wanted to do the showering together rn because I have no shame, but but I hope you enjoy this lil fluffy thing

take care of you (2.k words) lando norris x fem!reader sickfic

You were never sick, and that’s why Lando was getting worried. The both of you had always laughed at the thought of being ill, boasting a little too much about your amazing immune systems and now it’s come to bite you in the ass.

It had started as - what you thought was - a hangover, having a little too much to drink at the bar where Max had practically forced you to come two days ago. Lando hadn’t really been feeling it, still a little sore from the race a few days prior and in need of a night in where he could just relax. But you’d both gone eventually, had a good time and then you’d woken up violently ill the next morning.

Lando had set aside his aversion to vomit, quietly gagging as he tried to nurse you back to health. But it had become clear that it wasn’t just the aftermath of the night before coming to haunt you. Your nose had turned stuffy, voice hoarse and your fevers were running high. Dangerously so. Lando had never seen you so drained of energy before and it was starting to scare him.

He’d ignored your protests of staying away, not wanting him to catch whatever the fuck was making you feel like death was knocking on your front door but Lando was nothing but stubborn, glaring angrily at you when you tried to wave him off.

Max had dropped in to dump a plastic bag of medicine and everything a pharmacy held before fleeing, saying that whatever you had, he didn’t want it. You just wished Lando had the same attitude.

You didn’t want to admit it out loud though, that a part of you was glad that you had your best friend by your side to look after your basic needs when you couldn't. He always ran cold and it was a great advantage as he sat by your side as you went in and out of consciousness, placing his chilly hand on your forehead and cheek to hopefully stave off the fever.

By day two, he’d had enough. His stomach was twisting in worry, and he’d rang his mum three times - looking for advice or anything to help with her in a different country. You’d been a little delirious, skin slick with sweat as you laid on the bed; barely conscious and drifting between that place where you're not quite lucid, but you're also not completely knocked out. Lando would’ve thought that you were sleeping if it weren’t for the mouth breathing and little whimpers you occasionally let out when the pain in your head spiked out of nowhere.

It was three in the morning when you sniffled, waking up from your doze and blinking at him. You looked so miserable that he couldn’t help but feel sorry for you, brushing a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead and ignoring the fact that your hair was absolutely soaking. Anxiety was already gripping his heart in a fist and he couldn't handle feeding into it anymore, in fear of it bursting at the seams.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, voice quiet as to not worsen your headache but you still groaned like he’d put a megaphone to your ear and screamed into it.

You made a pathetic attempt at shaking your head, and the little gesture made him smile in endearment when you nuzzled the side of your face against the pillow; squishing your nose and mouth into the damp fabric.

“No.” You murmured. “‘s so hot.”

He glanced at the one too many covers and blankets on you, thinking that maybe he’d gone overboard with his mum’s advice to ‘let you sweat your fever out’.

“I know, bug.” He frowned a little. “You’ll be okay soon.”

“I feel like I’ve taken a nap in the devil’s arse.” You complained and Lando laughed, a bit relieved that your humour was still there.

He thought back on his mum’s advice that he’d immediately brushed off with heated cheeks as soon as the words left her mouth. Let her have a shower, it’ll do wonders for her, poor girl.

How was Lando supposed to get you in the shower when you hadn’t even left the bed for days? He glanced down at you and sucked his teeth, hands going to push the covers from your body before he could second guess himself. You made a sound of confusion when he grabbed at your hands, helping you sit up.

“What are you doin’?” Your speech was a little slurred, exhaustion clinging to your very soul and Lando ignored the pang in his chest at your rare vulnerability.

He’d ever only seen you like this when you were pissed out of your mind drunk, or when you were really sad. Or sick.

“We’re taking a shower.” He said, helping you stand up and you went easily, leaning heavily on him because the room was fucking spinning and he’d just said we.

The slow realisation made you yelp as he walked the both of you to the bathroom, and you gripped his hoodie in your hands in a lousy effort to stop him from walking any further.

“We? You’re not seeing me naked.” You said, feeling a little panicked at that thought.

Lando gave you a look you couldn’t decipher, pushing the door open with his foot and guiding you inside. He flipped down the toilet seat lid and gently sat you down and any other day you would've laughed at how much he acted like his mother when she fussed over her son or even you.

“Then we’re showering in our clothes.” He said, like it was that simple but it really wasn't that simple.

“We’re not.” You frowned but immediately stopped because fuck, that hurt your head. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll shower tomorrow when I've got my strength up.”

“You said that yesterday. You’re literally laying in your pool of sweat.” He pointed in the direction of your bedroom as if to get his point across and your mouth pursed in displeasure.

“You said you wouldn’t mention that.”

Lando’s eyebrows climbed to his forehead in exasperation and you flushed hotly. It was embarrassing and he’d promised not to make fun of you. Not that he was making fun of you, but still.

“You’re being an idiot.” He said, watching you pout a little at that and immediately feeling bad. He backtracked. “I mean… I don’t want you feeling faint and falling when I’m not here. I promise I won’t be a creep and look.”

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief and Lando placed both of his hands on his hips as he exhaled, the tips of his ear turning a nice shade of pink.

“Fine. I won’t look too much.” He swept a hand in the air. “Can we please get you in the shower? You’re starting to stink.”

“Now you know how I feel every day around you.” You muttered, ignoring Lando as he repeated your words in a mocking tone. “Okay, can you at least just… Look away?”

He regarded you with a contemplative look before nodding slowly, turning around and you stared at his back for a few seconds before starting to undress. Lando was patient, keeping his eyes firmly on the sink as he heard the shuffle of clothes and your noises behind him. You made a small sound that let him know that you were done and he stretched a hand out without turning or looking, offering his support as you stepped into the shower with weak legs.

You didn’t want to admit that he was right. You were in no shape or form to wash yourself without risking blacking out, but Lando thankfully didn’t say a thing as he let you draw the shower drapes to cover you.

You stood quietly, shivering and a little nervous as you heard him undress, nausea roiling your stomach and tying it into knots and you couldn’t figure out if it was because you were nervous or simply sick. It must’ve been a combination of two, you decided, thoughts spiralling until Lando’s voice echoed in the bathroom.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded before you realised that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah.” You flattened your palm against the tiled wall when you started feeling a little dizzy, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can you hurry? I’m feeling sick.”

The weakness in your voice must’ve triggered your best friend into action because he pulled the drapes aside and stepped in, grabbing your hand like it was a normal and every day occurrence to be standing in the shower. Naked.

You opened your eyes to find him looking intensely at your face, eyebrows pulled together worriedly and you gave him a shaky smile.

“Do you wanna lean on me?” He asked, tilting his head to look you in the eyes.

You were about to shake your head when you felt your world tilt on its axis, stumbling a little and Lando was quick to wrap his arms around you. He pulled you into his embrace and took some of your weight off your feet, trying not to think about how incredibly naked and warm you were against him.

He exhaled, feeling your hands weakly rest on his back; like you were welcoming his help and it made something warm bloom in his chest.

“I’m going to turn the shower on now, okay?” He walked the two of you to the corner before reaching back and turning the knob.

There was a sputtering sound before the spray came, and you could feel the cold mist as the shower head splattered cold water by your feet. You hummed in delight, leaning your forehead against Lando’s shoulder and closing your eyes.

“I feel like shit.” You confessed quietly between the two of you and Lando’s hand came up to brush the hair down your neck in quiet comfort. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Don’t mention it. You know I always will.” There was something in his voice that you couldn’t quite decipher, but you let it go when he took a step back into the shower once he’d deemed it warm enough.

The lukewarm water felt like heaven as it pelted down the both of you, washing away the sweat and everything you’d managed to accumulate these past few days. You hummed in pleasure, feeling your hair soak and you pushed your head off his shoulder to look at your best friend.

He was busy making out the hundreds of different bottles, looking lost before he finally found the shampoo bottle. The sight would’ve made you laugh if you had any strength left, but you settled for an amused smile that Lando clocked as soon as he turned his attention back to you.

“Shut up.” He said, seeing the clear laughter in your eyes and you raised your eyebrows as if to say hey, I didn’t say anything. “Turn around and let me wash your hair.”

You weren’t about to protest, doing just that and placing the palm of your hand against the wall to keep yourself upright.

Lando quickly washed your hair, the suds of the shampoo sliding down your face and getting in your eyes and it wasn’t as relaxing as one would’ve thought but he did the job and you couldn’t complain. He even went as far as conditioning your hair, rinsing it off gently before you offered to do the same for him.

“You don’t have to do that.” He scrunched his nose. “You look like you’re two seconds away from falling asleep.”

“Put your head down and shut up. Let me wash your hair.” You tried to sound stern, but you ended up sounding a little ridiculous with your stuffy nose and Lando grinned before complying.

The smile on his face vanished when he realised that he had, in the process, put himself in direct eyesight of your naked body and he struggled not to tense up as he heard the cap of the bottle pop, staring hard at your bare feet instead.

You did a way better job at washing his hair, digging your nails pleasantly around his skull and massaging his curls thoroughly before rinsing the suds off. Lando didn’t realise how relaxed he’d became until he tried to stand upright, hair drooping over his face and dripping wet.

His breath stuttered when you let out a hoarse laugh, pushing the hair out of his face and the movement was so intimate that Lando had a hard time breathing, wondering what the fuck was happening.

You didn’t seem bothered by the gesture though, none the wiser as you picked up a loofah and pushed it into his hands. He blinked down at it like it was a foreign object, trying to make sense of what exactly you were asking of him.

“You want me to wash you?” His voice went high, almost in a squeak and you shot a questioning look at him.

“Yes.” You decided on replying before frowning, adding: “Is that weird? I can do it if —“

“No, no. Um, I can do it, just —“ He was flustered, turning a little in the small space of your shower and trying not to yelp when his arm brushed your naked skin. “Body wash. I need body wash.”

Your face was on fire, watching him pop the cap of the body wash and ripping it off in the process. He made a little sound in his throat but didn’t dare to pick the broken cap off the floor, squirting the liquid onto the loofah before waving it in front of you.

You turned around, figuring that it was maybe a little easier if you weren’t in each others faces and Lando must’ve felt the same because he blew out a breath and started washing your back, albeit a little timidly.

He gained confidence after a few moments, finishing scrubbing you before doing himself and you didn’t call him out on him using your sponge because really, he’d probably done it a million times whenever he showered at your place.

The both of you stepped out, and he was there to immediately wrap you up in a towel before doing the same to himself. You didn’t want to acknowledge your heart, how it was speeding up abnormally so at the sight of him and how sweet he was being. Taking care of you, sending updates to your mum with how you were and assuring her that you were being taken care of. He knew how much of a worrier she was, and it made something immense swell in your chest as he rubbed a second towel over your hair, gentle and so very careful not to snag your hair or accidentally hurt you.

“What?” He halted when he pulled the towel away, revealing your face and your eyes staring at him. He wasn’t sure if it was the shampoo that had gotten in your eyes but they looked like they were on the verge of welling up.

“Nothing.” You replied, voice thick and so obviously lying but Lando didn’t touch on the subject. He made sure to ask later, when the air wasn’t so charged and you weren't teetering on the brink of death.

“Get into bed, I’ll bring you fresh clothes.” He said as he steered the both of you back to your bedroom. Lando stopped as he eyed your bed, a little critically. “You know what, let’s go to the couch instead.”

You laughed, voice a little thick and you reached a hand to weakly slap at his arm.

“What?” He grinned. “We need to change the sheets. Or maybe even burn them.”

“You’re a prick!” The way your voice cracked made Lando cackle, yelping when you shoved him a lot harder than he had anticipated.

Your words may have sounded malicious, but there was an undertone that your best friend couldn’t help but latch onto.

It sounded a lot like, I love you.

don't look at me, i love pain. anyways, hope you enjoyed this little drabble as i go crawling back into my cave to write something better than this. (also how did this turn into 2.6k words? i need help)

#zee's asks 💌 #f1 blurb #lando norris #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x reader #f1 fics

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface

WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)

NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!

Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock

Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year. 

Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make. 

A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks. 

“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath. 

“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?” 

“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?” 

“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.” 

There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.

“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest. 

“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son. 

“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed. 

Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.

“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do. 

Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy. 

When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood. 

You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more. 

“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you. 

Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him. 

“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down. 

“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.” 

Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him. 

“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.” 

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might. 

So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House. 

“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?” 

“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James. 

“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you. 

“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you. 

“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily. 

“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly. 

You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head. 

“Who’s blood is on your shirt?” 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.” 

“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son. 

“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.” 

“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?” 

“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?” 

“That’s not what I-,” 

“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.” 

James sighed and chose to ignore your comment, 

“Where is he?” he asked. 

“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.” 

James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son. 

When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest. 

You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU. 

You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son. 

James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold. 

You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most. 

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.

It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally. 

“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked. 

“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head. 

“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.” 

“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area. 

“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.” 

“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.” 

“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?” 

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.” 

“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked. 

“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor. 

“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,” 

“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated. 

The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.” 

James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented. 

“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked. 

“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.

“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James. 

“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?” 

Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together. 

“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.” 

Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.

“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.” 

You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs. 

James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands. 

“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.” 

“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said. 

“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed. 

“No, no it’s not.” 

You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you. 

You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest. 

While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself. 

“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away. 

“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted. 

You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck. 

“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier. 

“No, why?” 

“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?” 

“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked. 

“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.” 

You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?” 

“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.” 

“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.

You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him. 

James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news. 

Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle. 

You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to. 

A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own. 

“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed. 

“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian. 

With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes. 

You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe. 

“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand. 

“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.” 

You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours. 

You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings. 

“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.” 

“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled. 

“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process. 

“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off. 

“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.” 

“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him. 

“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.” 

Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up. 

He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period. 

“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.” 

James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap. 

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face. 

“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.” 

“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station. 

Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators. 

The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food. 

“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.” 

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.

“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.” 

James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head. 

“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.” 

You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.

When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party. 

You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done. 

As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital. 

You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital. 

When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh. 

“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.” 

“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork. 

You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it. 

James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand. 

Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths. 

“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked. 

“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.” 

“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.” 

“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”

“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted. 

—

You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late. 

“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”

“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time. 

“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.” 

Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private. 

“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!” 

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.” 

“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?” 

“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?” 

“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.” 

James placed his hands on his hips and said, 

“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,” 

“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.” 

When he said nothing you continued. 

“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.” 

James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head, 

“Okay,” he said simply. 

You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents. 

“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital. 

“No, not this time,” you shook your head. 

“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together. 

“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?” 

Julian was content with your answer and left it at that. 

Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up. 

One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening. 

Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end. 

“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?” 

“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.” 

“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked. 

“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.” 

You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying. 

“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,” 

You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside. 

“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.” 

James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen. 

“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea. 

“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.” 

“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass. 

“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.” 

“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded. 

“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.” 

You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding. 

“These are all good ideas,” you started. 

“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?” 

“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.” 

James shook his head. 

“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.” 

“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly. 

“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.” 

“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.” 

You took a sip of your tea and said,

“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.” 

James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.” 

“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light. 

“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?” 

“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.” 

You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him. 

“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?” 

Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen. 

You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing. 

When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him. 

“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.” 

“She does, does she,” James looked over at you. 

“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.” 

James pressed his lips together and sighed, 

“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.” 

“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head. 

James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room. 

“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses. 

“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.” 

“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.” 

“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress. 

You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room. 

James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him. 

“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”

You nodded your head, 

“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…” 

“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled. 

“James I’m begging you-,” 

“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head. 

“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out. 

You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch. 

—

Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married. 

Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food. 

You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island. 

“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad. 

“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you. 

“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.” 

Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example. 

“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.” 

That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked. 

“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.

“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.” 

“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled. 

James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.

“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.” 

You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing. 

“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.” 

“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded. 

“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.” 

“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh. 

“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head. 

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!” 

“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.” 

“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head. 

“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug. 

“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.” 

“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable. 

When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad. 

“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked. 

“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.” 

“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.” 

“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded. 

“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.” 

“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James. 

After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit. 

“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.” 

“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?” 

You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.” 

“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked. 

“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.” 

“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.” 

You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.” 

Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room. 

Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep. 

Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed. 

“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked. 

“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed. 

“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.” 

“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright. 

“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?” 

Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James. 

It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up. 

“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice. 

“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?” 

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.” 

“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.

“It’s possible, was there anything else?” 

“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks. 

“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.” 

“James-,” 

“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.” 

“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive. 

James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him. 

When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in. 

“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!” 

“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.” 

You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay. 

You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back. 

“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband. 

“No,” he stated just as firmly. 

“James-,” 

“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away. 

“James, let me go.”

“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter. 

“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you. 

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.” 

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.” 

James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple. 

You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.

Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?” 

Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake. 

“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?” 

“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.” 

“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.” 

You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian. 

“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.” 

“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward. 

When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together. 

“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible. 

“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted. 

“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs. 

You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.

—

“Mom…Mom, Dad?” 

Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face. 

“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.” 

“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you. 

“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders. 

“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh. 

“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed. 

“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?” 

“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.” 

“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?” 

“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.” 

“Is it dangerous?” he asked. 

You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details. 

“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.” 

“Promise?” Julian whispered. 

“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.” 

“I love you guys too.” 

Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out. 

It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop. 

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said. 

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.” 

“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested. 

You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together. 

“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?” 

House was silent so James explained, 

“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.” 

“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.” 

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted. 

He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office. 

“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked. 

“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside. 

He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label. 

“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically. 

“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back. 

“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?” 

“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand. 

“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you. 

“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach. 

“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one. 

“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head. 

“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.” 

“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned. 

“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.” 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.” 

“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.” 

You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago. 

“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.” 

You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking. 

Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well. 

As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic. 

“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian. 

“He does?” 

“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,” 

“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively. 

“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours. 

“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.” 

“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.” 

“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.” 

James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.” 

“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply. 

“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…” 

You shook your head. 

“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.” 

James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son. 

“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.” 

“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect. 

—

“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job. 

“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing. 

“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle. 

“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.” 

He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins. 

“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.” 

“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked. 

“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.” 

“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.” 

You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself. 

You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine. 

In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other. 

“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.” 

You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page. 

Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look. 

You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes. 

“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo. 

“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.” 

“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added. 

You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant. 

That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy. 

You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous. 

At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant  reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach. 

You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again. 

You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel. 

All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look. 

You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you. 

Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.

James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you. 

“Can I keep this one?” he asked. 

You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph. 

It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp. 

Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head. 

“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”

“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face. 

Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications. 

Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies. 

You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red. 

3:07

You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower. 

When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head. 

You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening. 

“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.” 

“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son. 

“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless. 

“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained. 

“And what were you doing up?” you asked. 

“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”

You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands. 

“So, is everything okay?” 

“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower. 

“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water. 

“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you. 

“A bad dream?” he asked. 

“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”

James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs. 

“Was it about us?” 

He took your silence as a yes. 

James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned  forward sitting on the bathroom counter. 

“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest. 

“Would you tell me?” 

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled. 

There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again, 

“What was it about?” 

You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak. 

“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.” 

“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.” 

“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.

“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”

“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.” 

You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.

James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure. 

“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt. 

When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently. 

You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter. 

“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered. 

“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head. 

He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say. 

“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.” 

James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?” 

“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted. 

“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused. 

“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.” 

James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you. 

“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.” 

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer. 

James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you. 

You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian. 

“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door. 

“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face. 

“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes. 

You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him. 

“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.” 

Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James. 

“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him. 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Just this once.” 

James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed. 

When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep. 

You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair. 

One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’. 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad. 

“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?” 

Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own. 

—

“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.” 

“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.” 

“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked. 

“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you. 

“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said. 

James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this. 

“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him. 

“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?” 

“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled. 

You looked up at James and he shrugged. 

“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her. 

You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“You hungry?” he asked. 

“I could eat,” you nodded your head. 

“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested. 

You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?” 

“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?” 

You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go. 

James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings. 

Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married. 

“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch. 

“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.

“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow. 

“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you. 

“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink. 

“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?” 

“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized. 

James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you. 

“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.” 

You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired. 

“Do I have to?” you asked. 

“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled. 

“What do you want me to say?” you asked. 

“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly. 

You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.” 

“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.” 

“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.” 

James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak, 

“Can I ask you something?” he settled on. 

“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island. 

“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?” 

Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question. 

“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough. 

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again. 

“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.” 

James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern. 

“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.

“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.” 

James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent. 

“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.” 

“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.” 

“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer. 

“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted. 

“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls. 

He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.” 

“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?” 

“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”

“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes. 

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?” 

You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him. 

“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.” 

“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.” 

“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.” 

“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again. 

You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear. 

“James,” you breathed. 

“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.” 

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice. 

“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart. 

You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks. 

“Jamie?” 

James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname. 

“Yes, my love.” 

“Can I count on you?” 

You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that. 

“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.” 

James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face. 

And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time. 

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #hate crimes md #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson fanfic #james wilson fic

[inmyheadimobsessed]

Want You Extensively

pairing: shuri ✘ black!fem!reader

summary: you and shuri broke up, and you're trying to get over her (not really). shuri makes it exceedingly hard to do so.

word count: 5024

contains: angst, jealousy, possessive!shuri, slight public smut (18+), fluff, wakanda forever spoilers

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: please do not ask me any questions about this fic. i won't be able to answer any of them lmaoo. and fear not, there will be a pt. 2 with full on smut. the only reason it's not here is because it was already too long. stay tuned for that! thank you to my mutual who helped with the translations! enjoy <33

translations: sthandwa - my love, mtuwam - my person, ndiyak'thembisa - i promise you

════

part one | part two

Entering Shuri’s lab felt different, like there was a cloud of something looming over and around you as you stepped off the elevator. How many times had you come down here over the years as a means of escape? Just watching her work was enough to help you unwind, usually. You had not been to her lab in months, not since the day she took the heart-shaped herb. She’d never asked you why, and it was something you found yourself appreciating.

As you walked toward her, her quiet little hums to the song playing increased in volume. It made you smile. Griot announced your arrival and she whipped around to catch your eyes, and her own grin grew.

“Hello my love.” She kissed your cheek and you sat in the seat beside her. “It has been a minute since you were last down here, what brings you by?”

Images of that night replayed in your head. It was your first time witnessing Shuri drowning in that much rage, it scared you, but you understood her emotions completely; you understood her actions. Losing your mother in such a violent way, watching her life leave her body before your very eyes was a feeling you knew all too well. Grief was no stranger to you. All consuming vengeance was no stranger to you. So it did not surprise you when she turned to you for support in her plans. Shuri wanted Namor dead, and you were eager to do absolutely anything to help her achieve that.

“I wanted to see you. It feels as though we keep missing each other.”

She shot you a look and huffed a soft chuckle, “So it seems.”

Your brows furrowed at her expression, but you chose not to speak on it. Instead, your attention shifted to what she was doing. It looked like yet another update to her Kimoyo beads, as if they needed more updates. This was not surprising behavior for your girlfriend, Shuri’s excessive desire to improve and enhance was one of the things you loved about her. This need had only increased since losing both her brother and mother.

It was what brought her comfort, and you liked that she had something to pour herself into.

You poked her cheek, wanting her to focus her attention on you, “And what are your plans after you leave the lab for the night?”

Her eyes did not move from the device before her as she spoke, “I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

An awkward silence enveloped the space you were in with her. This is how most days went with the two of you now: prolonged time apart, clipped conversations, not to mention the lack of intimacy. The energy in your relationship was off, it had been for a while. You felt it and so did she, what stung was neither of you putting in effort to fix it.

“I had a chance to speak with Riri earlier. I invited her here for a visit next month.” Shuri continued fiddling with her beads.

You sighed, knowing this would mean more time apart for the two of you. “Are we in a good enough place to be entertaining guests?” Your chest tightened a little when it dawned on you that more time away from Shuri would not bother you as it should. Indifference was a feeling you loathed, and feeling indifferent about your relationship made you ill.

She dropped her tools then, fully taking you in for the first time in far too long. Her eyes were still as striking as you remembered, and you missed being under their gaze. Her face expressed she noted the ambiguity in your question, and she was not fond of it.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Was my question not clear?” Your tone was snippy; irritated, but was that not why you said it that way? So that Shuri would pick up on it?

Her laugh was dry and low, “You have been making many things quite clear recently.”

“I suppose it is my turn to ask you what you mean by that.” But you knew exactly what she meant. You knew her pulling away stemmed from you doing the same, though you were not ready to admit that to her just yet.

The glare she shot you exposed your deepest kept secrets, pulling them all the way out. “Am I to believe you’re not aware of what I mean? Oh sthandwa, you forget I know you best.”

Her tone was deep and dark, it reminded you of the ocean and the newly revealed dangers that lurked beneath it. You could not pull your eyes away from hers, and you could feel the tears tugging on them.

“If there is something you would like to say, my Queen, by all means…”

“If there is something I would like to say? Me?”

You folded your arms across your chest. You did not come down here to pick a fight, truly. But if it was what she wanted then so be it. “Are you not the Queen?”

“Why would you suggest we aren’t in a good place? Is that how you feel about us?”

Your words came out soft and hesitant, “Is that how you think I feel?”

“When was the last time you told me how you felt about anything? I have to watch for subtle hints to gain any insight on your emotions.” Shuri dragged her hands down her face in frustration.

“I did not come here to fight with you Shuri.”

Her eyes bore holes into your face, intense as usual. But now they harbored something different and you couldn’t make it out. Though you knew she was frustrated, you could not help basking in her beauty.

“It does not need to be a fight, but we need to have a conversation. Something isn’t right.”

You bit your lip as you eyed her. Her eyes were softer now. Clearer, more readable, and you sighed. “Nothing is right.”

“I don’t understand.” She tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.

You knew what you were about to say would knock the wind out of her, thinking it sure knocked the wind out of you. “Ever since the fight with Namor and the Talokanils, I realized we were just leading each other down a dangerous path. Your desire to seek vengeance for your mother was just, I know that and I will forever believe that. But I let you sink too deep into it. I could’ve stopped you, but I knew I was actively choosing not to. I knew what it would be like for you, and yet I did nothing.”

“You did not make me do anything, every action was of my own volition.”

You were crying now, feeling your chest constrict. “But I could have stopped you.”

“No. You could not.” Shuri wiped her own tears away as she stepped towards you to grab your hands.

Her fingers around yours centered you a little, but they did nothing to quell the pain in your heart; they did nothing to stop the erratic beating. “I do not think we bring out the best in one another anymore.”

“What are you saying?” Her words were unsteady as she clung to your hands. Shuri’s grip was fierce, her amplified strength adding to the pressure.

“I cannot do this, I’m sorry.” Desperation glazed her eyes over, and seeing it tugged on every muscle in your body, making them tender and sore. You were hurting her. Shuri was already hurting; grieving, and now losing you would just pile on top of that. Bile scratched the back of your throat and you swallowed it back down.

“Please, don't give up on us. It will get better, ndiyak'thembisa.”

You sniffed, scorching tears flowing heavily from your eyes like a dam, “It has been months. If this is what getting better looks like, I want no part in it.”

“We just have to try, my darling.”

“This is not working for me anymore, and you are lying to yourself if you believe it is for you. Shuri, if you can tell me it still feels the same for you, I will stay. I will try harder. Tell me that and have it be the truth, I will stop this.”

“Do not do this.”

“Something has been off with us for longer than either of us were willing to admit. I gave you time, I gave myself time. But I’d sooner realize time was not on our side.” You pulled your hands from between hers, balling them into fists. There was a beat of hesitation — a moment of reluctance as you breathed in the finality hovering above you both. You drank in her saddened features, and you took note of the acceptance there.

Shuri cleared her throat, “I suppose you’re right. We are not the same. I am not the same.”

“You need time to find yourself again Shuri, time to mourn in the way you deserve. I want the world for you, but right now… Right now I do not believe I am the one who can gift that to you, my love.” Your hand cupped her tear stained face and she gripped your wrist. She nodded and nuzzled into your touch as she wept.

You could tell she knew you were right, you’d known how she felt for a while. You pulled her in for a hug, it was tight, and it was long, and it was something each of you needed. You inhaled her scent for the last time, letting it clog all your senses. You wanted it to linger; to last.

Slowly, you let each other go, and you took a lengthy look into those eyes you loved so much.

After a beat, you glanced down at your chest where the pendant she crafted for you sat. “A symbol of my love for you.” She’d said when she clasped it around your neck. You’d never taken it off before, not once, until now. You put the necklace in her hand and closed it. Shuri said nothing, only watched you with bloodshot eyes.

“Take care of yourself, mtuwam.” You kissed her knuckles, then her cheek, and then you were out the way you came with tears clouding your vision.

•••

Waking up in your own bed, alone, was a feeling you were unfamiliar with even three and a half weeks after your break up. And it was not something you saw yourself growing fond of.

You missed having Shuri’s duvet wrapped around you, crafted from the finest threads in all of Wakanda. You longed to be awoken by her lips on your neck, your chest, your stomach. Watching her head descend and disappear under said duvet, mouth eager to perform immoral acts between your thighs as you squirmed above her.

But truthfully speaking, you had been missing that long before you ended things. You just missed her. Seeing her around the city only made your quest to move on harder.

Obviously you’d avoided her; ducking into an alley when you saw her at the market, waiting for her to leave restaurants before you entered. It was pathetic really, but you did not trust your ability to behave normally around her. You knew your strengths; your weaknesses, and the Queen of your country just so happened to be your biggest weakness.

Riri had messaged you a few days ago asking if her invitation was still open, having not heard back from Shuri. She seemed excited to return to Wakanda and you hadn’t the heart to cancel on her. Besides, you did miss her a lot and you could use a distraction from all things Shuri.

“Um, hold up. What do you mean you and Shuri broke up?” Riri had disbelief painted all over her face. She dropped her phone on your bed, making sure she heard you correctly. It was a reaction you were used to getting when telling others, reliving the entire ordeal as you watched the news wash through them. Shock, disbelief, acceptance, sympathy.

The same rollercoaster of emotions you’d experienced yourself, though the acceptance part was still running from you. Everyone you knew expected you and Shuri to last forever. You expected you and Shuri to last forever. But believing in forever was nothing other than a child’s fantasy. Nothing lasted that long. Not love, and certainly not life.

You continued swooping your edges in front of your vanity as you nodded in response. “Yes.”

“Are you okay?” Riri’s tone was genuine and you gave her a half smile in the mirror.

“It’s hard, but I am trying to be. Which is why I am excited to take you out tonight. Nightlife in the city will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before!”

She hopped off her spot on your bed and headed to the closet, “Yay!”

You decided to take Riri to all of your favorite spots. You guys ate dinner at your favorite restaurant, giving her a chance to try Wakandan cuisine, which she loved. You had ice cream for dessert, and you were now off to one of the most popular clubs in the city.

Stepping into the club sent a rush down your spine. Riri automatically dragged you to the dance floor and soon you were swinging your body to the bass of the song. The beat reverberated through you and through your bosom, sending jolts of thrill this way and that.

Your way too short dress rode up with every pop of your hip, Shuri hated the dress for that very reason. But you did not care, and you made no efforts to pull it down.

To your right, Riri was grinding on an extremely tall girl and looked to be having the time of her life. You grabbed the closest person and threw your arms around their neck and they didn't protest. Their hands snaked around your waist, pressing their front closer to yours. Their cologne was strong and oaky, and you couldn't help the feeling of wanting to bathe in it.

You threw your head back, a joyous giggle flying from within you. Moments like these were rare for you, moments where you just got to let loose, and you tried to soak them up as often as time allowed. The only thing that would make this moment even better was alcohol.

The stranger’s hands roamed your tight blue dress: sliding, slipping, squeezing. Touch starved and needy, you allowed every bit of it. Fingers danced along your butt as you pushed back against them to a new song with your eyes closed.

They leaned down to whisper in your ear then, liquor heavy on their breath, “Are you attempting to get me into trouble?”

“Depends. What sort of trouble do you usually get into?” Your voice coated in seduction. You were unaware you even still remembered how to flirt with people who weren't Shuri. It was strange, but in a good way you supposed.

“Definitely not the kind that would garner attention from the Black Panther herself.” They noted your confusion and pointed across the room.

And there she was, back leaned against the bar, glass of something brown clasped tightly in her fist. In that damned purple tracksuit she knew drove you absolutely insane. Her eyes were shielded by her shades, but you knew they were fixed on you, and on the person who clung to you. Even from this distance you could see the tight twitch in her jaw. She was visibly irritated and failed to hide it.

She barely moved, despite knowing you were watching her. If she insisted on staring, you'd give her the show she so desperately desired.

You spun to face them, grabbing their face in your palms, “Don't give her the attention she's seeking. Just dance with me.”

The two of you were back to being all over each other in no time, but even with your back turned away from her, you could still feel the sting of Shuri’s gaze stalking every move you made. She would not move from the bar because she knew you too well. She knew at some point you would need to get a drink, and she was devious enough to wait it out.

Shuri’s ability to drag situations out, prolong the inevitable, was always something you admired, but it became a bother when it interfered with you getting what you wanted. Especially in the bedroom. Riri seemed to notice Shuri’s arrival and her reaction was vastly different from your own.

“Oh my god. Shuri’s here? Do we say hi? I wanna say hi.” She waved at your ex girlfriend and Shuri lifted her glass in acknowledgement.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed her wrist, leaving the person you were dancing with behind, “We may as well get it over with now. Her highness is very fond of games, but I’m in no mood.” A bit hypocritical, you concluded, seeing as you were just rubbing your ass on someone else’s crotch while she watched. Just add it to the growing list of things you refused to care about on this night. This night was supposed to be fun and Shuri-less, and it certainly was your plan to have it remain that way.

A smirk climbed to her face as you approached the bar, but you ignored it.

“Three shots of whatever is strongest please.” The woman behind the bar nodded and got right on it. You watched out the side of your eye as Riri and Shuri caught up. Soon the two were cracking jokes and laughing. You were fighting a grin as you overheard their conversation. Because Shuri’s laugh was infectious like that. You grabbed the shots placed in front of you and headed to Riri, placing one in her hand.

“Is that other one for me, sthandwa?”

You scoffed at her. Honestly you didn’t know why her being here was annoying you this much. After downing both glasses of the potent liquid, you finally decided to speak to her, “Why are you here?”

“Am I not allowed to be here?” She studied you through her tinted glasses, eyeing you from head to toe. Your long legs were exposed and your dress stopped slightly above mid-thigh. Being under her attentive gaze again was lighting you up on the inside, and you found yourself wanting her to continue.

“And why are you wearing that?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You know how much I despise that dress.” She smirked.

“Some people like me in this dress.” You shot Shuri a winning grin before requesting another drink, something fruity this time.

Her chuckle was low and jeering, “If you are referring to that buffoon you were attempting to tease me with, I’d say I’m disappointed. Whoever that was would not know what to do with you in that thing. Let alone how to get you out of it. It is a hassle.”

Riri cleared her throat as she struggled to hop onto one of the bar stools. Her face tattled on all her inner thoughts, eyes bulging out her head at Shuri’s words. Even you were unsure of how to respond to Shuri.

“How did you know we would be here?” You sipped your drink, tilting your head to eye her. If she was going to dress like that, it was obviously apparent that you would check her out. No doubt she did it for exactly that reason. She looked sexy, but that was not abnormal. You just hadn't had the chance to see her sexiness up close in a very long while. You squeezed your legs together in protest to your body’s reaction.

Shuri pointed to your wrist where your Kimoyo beads sat. “I always know where you are, darling. Even when you are hiding from me.” It had never dawned on you that Shuri might be tracking you. Realization sunk in then. All those times you’d almost run into her she’d known you were near. Knowing she was surveilling you without your permission should make you angry; should, but it only made your innards all the more gooey. Though you were apart, she still kept you close.

You blushed at the thought and that smile you were wrestling with finally won. It was brief, and you caught yourself, and so did Shuri.

“Since when do you repeat outfits?” You deadpanned, wanting this conversation to shift immediately, before you said something you couldn’t take back.

Her little laugh was cute and you rolled your eyes, “Are my clothes a bother to you? I quite like this tracksuit.” She looked down at her attire, then back up at you. Not once did she move from her position against the bar and it bugged you.

“No. I like it.”

“You admit you like it? Riri, did you hear that, eh? I know you heard that.” Riri nodded uncomfortably from her seat, shooting a thumbs up. She was on her third drink, slurping loudly in attempts to block out your conversation with Shuri.

Her boldness was growing infuriating. “I used to like it, is what I meant.”

“You used to like a lot of things about me. Used to love many things. My mind wonders if you still do.” She stepped forward, decreasing the sizable gap between the two of you. The familiar aroma of her perfume pulled you in involuntarily. Shuri looked down at how close your bodies were. Her eyes found yours through her lenses and you scoffed at the expression on her face. She was amused, she found you amusing.

“Why are you doing this?” Your words barely a whisper.

“Because I miss you. I miss all of you.” She took off her sunglasses, letting you catch a glimpse of those gorgeous eyes you missed terribly. They twinkled, even under the low club lights, and they stole your breath away.

You gasped, “Don't.”

She continued despite your protest, “I miss seeing you everyday. I miss kissing you, touching you. I miss making you shout my–”

“Uh uh! I’m out! If y’all need me, I’ma be somewhere that isn’t… here.” Riri scurried off after downing her last shot. Leaving you alone with her Majesty. Wonderful.

The smirk that climbed onto Shuri’s face shook your core. She was too good at this, you were supposed to be moving on. Before she could get her next sentence out, the person you were dancing with appeared, wrapping you in their arms. You giggled into the hold, appreciating the distraction. But when you found Shuri’s eyes, fear for them grew inside you.

You wiggled out of their touch, trying to signal that they should leave. But it was no use. Shuri’s rage was as tangible as ever. Her grin seemed pure to any onlookers, but you knew better. It was murderous and vengeful, and bred only chaos. Shuri grabbed the taller and much larger stranger by the shoulder and they were airborne, crashing into a pool table, splitting it right down the middle.

She stooped to where they landed, “Touching her like that in my presence should mean your death. Luckily for you I am only here to make my girl happy tonight. But, if I even get the slightest inkling that you are near her again, trust I will not be this generous. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes your majesty.” She was on her feet then, turning to you. Seeing her like that was driving unspeakable thoughts straight through your mind. She asked you to dance, and you nodded. Words were not something you could muster at the moment.

She pulled you to the dance floor, positioning herself behind you. Instinctively, you reached for her hand to place them on your hips. Feeling her fingers through the thin material of your skimpy dress kickstarted the thumping in between your thighs. Swaying to the music, Shuri’s lips found your throat. Her teeth grazed your neck and you whimpered. “Would it be inappropriate to ask you how wet you are right now?”

Her question made you dizzy, inebriated you more than any drop of alcohol could. You bit your lip, dragging her hand under your dress to answer her question. Her fingers sat on the outside of your thong for a few beats before she slowly stroked you on top of the fabric. She hissed in your ear. The thumping in your panties shifted to desperate pounding. Shuri was meticulous with her strokes, teasing you all the while. The song changed and the bodies surrounding you kept on dancing, completely oblivious to what you and the Queen were up to.

Her mouth kept sucking on your neck as her fingers hovered over your core.

“Want you.” You hummed and it drove her mad. She slipped her hand under your waistband and her digits circled your hole. She spun you to face her before shoving her way inside you. Your moans were soft and fragile, completely inaudible in the booming club. But Shuri heard them, for they were meant only for her ears. She pumped you slowly at first, then her pace turned ravenous, and you were already at the edge. Having not been touched like this in a while, it did not take much for you to reach your peak. Seconds away from your orgasm, Shuri ripped both fingers from your pussy with a dark grin.

She brought them to her mouth and sucked. Your confused pout only made her grin darker, “While I do miss feeling you and tasting you, you should have thought twice about what parading that fool in front of me would mean for you. You know where to find me when you are ready to apologize.”

You watched her leave the club entirely, followed by a few members of the Dora Milaje. Anger and unfulfillment burned inside you. Damn her. And damn those wonderfully talented fingers of hers.

•••

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache. You’d stayed at the club longer after Shuri left, wanting to drink her out of your memory. Riri encouraged the behavior, but obviously all attempts failed. After getting ready for the day without waking Riri, you took your Kimoyo beads off, and you were out the door.

Stepping into the lab brought back too many painful memories, but you were here to mend all of that. You had a speech prepared, it was perfectly worded, pauses in all the right spots. But when you saw her, you froze. Your feet forgot what the act of walking was, your lips went numb, mouth dry, and every syllable in your brain jumbled.

When she spotted you, she couldn’t help the hearty laugh that came out of her. She held her stomach and doubled over.

“The last time you were down here you broke my heart. Am I to prepare for a similar interaction?” Her words jarred you as she spoke them. How did she do it? How was she able to remain so witty through all of this?

You exhaled, “Your behavior last night was unacceptable and cruel.”

“Do I need to mention your breaking my heart again?” She pressed her back against her desk and eyed you.

“This is not funny.”

“And yet I’m laughing.” Shuri crossed her arms with a grin. Why was she like this?

You moved toward her and she startled. Good. You were back in control now. “I came here for one thing and one thing only.”

You dragged your finger down her chest, stopping at the little bit of exposed skin below her crop top. Her breath hitched, it was low, but you heard it. It pleased you to be teasing her in the way she teased you last night.

“To issue that apology I requested?” She squeaked. How adorable.

“Nope.”

Her brow quirked, of course she was enjoying this still. “So what then?”

“I want my necklace back.” You exhaled, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a tad. You couldn’t let her win.

“Ah. I see. Well I’m sorry to say, that necklace belongs to my girlfriend. Last I checked, that was not you anymore.” She beamed down at you, but there was hurt simmering there in her gorgeous eyes.

You poked her belly button and she jerked, bringing forth a chuckle from you. “I would like my status switched back, your majesty. If you would so graciously allow it.” You curtseyed and dipped your head.

“I am feeling quite generous today. I might just be able to grant your request, I suppose.”

You had to conceal your squeal because you had more to say. Your blood was rushing in your veins, you could feel every drop move, whooshing past one another at lightning speed. “I know there is more to be discussed between us, but I just want to say this: I love you. Loving you is the easiest thing I have ever chosen to do. Because of course it is, you are easy to love. And I was wrong before, we do bring out the best in each other. You bring out the best in me, and I am sorry. You suggested we try before, I want that. You are all that I want.”

“Are you finished?” You nodded and wiped a lone tear from your face. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes.” You barely got the word out before Shuri was tilting your chin and pressing her lips to yours. They connected like puzzle pieces. The sensation flooding through you was the most euphoric. Only Bast knew just how much you missed her. Hunger and greed clawed at your throat as the kiss grew hotter, but it still managed to remain as tender as ever. She pulled away, eyes sparkling like the sun and lighting you all the way up.

“My necklace?” Your eyes were pleading and she ate it up.

Shuri shook her head, “I decide when I will return that. You, my darling, will just have to wait.” Her toothy smile said it all; Shuri was hellbent on torturing you. She wanted to drive you insane beyond repair. And you were going to let her.

#shuri x black!reader #lyricswriting #shuri x black!fem reader #shuri x reader #shuri fic #myworks #black panther #wakanda forever #shuri x fem!reader #letitia wright #shuri smut #shuri #shuri x y/n #shuri x f!reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri udaku

[stelladess]

I feel a bit annoyed by people saying Firefly is the star rail version of Kallen. As a fan of both characters I feel they got next to nothing in common whatsoever. They dont look similar, they arnt similar people, they dont have similar backgrounds or motives... there is just nothing really. It feels like reducing them to Stelle/Caelus girlfriend (this one is supported by the story but I feel like much of what makes Firefly and this ship interesting gets overlooked, admittedly some of it assumes the theory about Firefly being SAM is true and some lore knowledge about SAM but even without taking that into account Firefly is a great character in her own right) and Otto´s girlfriend (which, as a huge Otto fan, I will say, of course has its own issues and I do not like the romantic interpretation with them, the previous era versions of them are different people and dont count for this imo and there is no evidence at all Kallen of the current era was into Otto and also Kolosten heavily suggests it wasnt even a romance thing for Otto either) I highly recommend people read the prequel comic focused on Kallen, its when Kallen is younger then when we see her in flashbacks, set before meeting Sakura (i highly recommend also checking out that whole story at some point even if it can be a bit awkwardly time gated in game and slightly confusing) in HI3 so her personality/demeanor is a bit different from how she was by then (she is a lot more naive for one) but I think its still a good introduction to see why Kallen is a good character and a good showcase of how she isnt like Firefly at all and doesnt require sitting trough all of Kolosten and several side stuff in game to get to, so its a convenient starting place to see if you want to see more about Kallen. Which I hope anyone reading this ends up wanting to but even if not thats fine and is why I recommend starting here since its an easy read with very nice art and a fairly self contained story. Also if you dont play HI3 and am just curious on Kallen because of what other people are saying. Elan Palatinus: https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/ Some spoilers for Penacony mentioned below here....

Firefly I dont wanna go too deep into character analysis here cause some of it relies heavily on an unproven theory, ill probably write about her more later though. But either way I feel like she is a very well written character, her desire to indulge in some escapism to get a break from her harsh reality with her terminal illness, her determination to find the watchmaker´s legacy despite the risk, her clearly having gotten a lot of experience dealing with dangerous situations despite seemingly wanting to just live a normal happy life, she hasnt been in the game very long (yet, the boss that "killed" her whole gimmick is that you can free the souls it claims so im not so sure she is actually gone, also you can see a Firefly leave her body before she dissolves shortly before Sam shows up...) but she is already very strongly characterized even with her limited screentime. If the theory that she is Sam is also true then it would add an extra layer to her closeness with Stelle in that some lore about Sam suggests Sam was artifically created for the purpose of fighting against the swarm, so she likely would relate to Stelle on account of the whole... being made to fullfill a purpose thing. As a stellaron hunter in this case she would also know about that quite likely so I like the theory. Idunno I just feel frustrated how characters often feel like they get boiled down to just their archetype or role (and sometimes not even any of those but just completely unrecognizable) when they are actually very interesting and well written characters. I want people to appreciate the writing that went into these amazing characters, not just these two but also many other examples but I wont ramble on here. So I strongly recommend people read more about them if at all curious, altough be careful since there are tons of leaks and spoilers in general going around regarding anything Penacony related, so with Firefly it might be best to wait a bit if spoilers are a concern.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hi3rd #hi3 #hsr firefly #kallen kaslana #honkai impact

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 10

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: This chapter contains mugging, memory loss, traumatic brain injury. This fic as a whole contains sex, language, violence, mental illness.

Word Count: 3164

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Author’s Note: I’m back! Obviously, it took me sooo long to figure out how to write this next chapter, but I finally got it together. I really appreciate your patience in the meantime & hope you enjoy reading it. The plan is to post more regularly soon (Chapter 11 is almost done).

“Makeup is an art,” Chantelle and Tina had explained to you the night before. “Think of your face as a canvas.”

Despite all their well-intentioned beauty coaching, the cold, hard truth was you still had no idea what the hell you were doing - you couldn’t even keep the differences between moisturizer, foundation and concealer straight in your brain. And after twenty minutes of attempting to “paint” your face like the natural-born Rembrandt they were convinced you were, you’d stared back at your reflection in the mirror and decided you looked like a clown…and not in a sexy-Arthur-Fleck kinda way.  

Exasperated, you’d washed everything off, opting instead for a tiny bit of mascara, lip gloss and powder.

But then there was the issue of your hair. You’d burned your fingers on Tina’s flat iron before managing to get things somewhat under control. But as soon as you stepped out onto the street the rain began to fall, causing your already-unruly mane to frizz up completely by the time you reached the subway.

Chantelle’s handpicked outfit, however, remained the only unblemished element of tonight's ensemble: her tight-fitting angora sweater did things for your non-existent cleavage you’d never imagined possible. You’d be sure to thank her profusely later…even though she thought you were going out with someone else tonight.

You’d never cared how you looked in front of a guy before…but Arthur Fleck wasn’t just a guy. To say he’d gotten under your skin was, perhaps, the understatement of your life: you were becoming crazy about the man.

You didn't know how you were going to survive this date. You could barely hold it together in Arthur’s presence without wanting to reach out and smother him with affection, and the kiss between you earlier today had only solidified your deepest desires. You wanted Arthur in so many ways…ways you didn’t even understand yet. It reminded you of the first time you’d ever rode the Giant Dipper at Amusement Mile: the sensation of your stomach flying up into your throat as you went over that first terrifying drop…a disconcerting mix of fear and exhilaration. Was this what being in love felt like?

***

The bouncer at Pogo’s frowned as you handed him your ID.

“Are you…um…are you alright, miss?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

You were thrown off by the question. “Of course. Why?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…have you looked in a mirror recently?”

You shook your head. The jerk was actually making fun of how bad your hair and makeup had turned out. People in this city really didn’t know how to act.

“Wow, you’re hilarious,” you rolled your eyes at him, snatching back your ID. “Can I please go inside now? My friend’s about to go on.”

You pushed past the rude bouncer and entered the club, scanning the room feverishly for an empty seat. Spotting one parallel to the center of the stage, your eyes lit up and you rushed over to claim it. As you sat down, a strange chill ran up your spine as you slowly began to realize: everyone was staring at you. Faces of concern and mockery swam around you, and you weren’t sure why.

Oh shit, you thought. Do I have something on my face?

Unfortunately, you hadn’t brought a compact mirror (Tina and Chantelle had given you a five minute lecture on the importance of always carrying on in your purse), so you couldn’t check. And you couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom because then you’d lose your seat. You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, then glanced at your watch and saw the glass was cracked.

Weird. You hadn’t remembered smashing it against anything on the way over.

Your concerns about your appearance, however, were quickly dissolved as the current act wrapped and the emcee took the mic.

“This next comic describes himself as a lifelong Gotham resident who from a young age was told that ‘his purpose in life was to bring laughter and joy into this cold, dark world.’ Umm. Okay? Please help me welcome Arthur Fleck!”

You applauded along with the rest of the half-faded crowd as relief washed over you. Thank God you hadn’t missed him. As Arthur took the stage, your heart began to throb again. There were simply simply no words to describe how incredible he looked tonight. His red vest. The crisp, white button-down shirt underneath it. The matching slacks.

And his hair. His hair.

You were certain his hair was going to be the death of you. How was it possible that you and that gorgeous hair inhabited the same planet without the entire world imploding?

Arthur squinted out at the crowd before speaking. You knew he was searching for you, needing to see you in the audience, needing to know you were there for him. And you were. When the two of you locked eyes, he smiled. You smiled back at him and everything else fell away. It was you and Arthur again. And nothing else in this cold, dark world mattered.

You didn’t care that Arthur had a laughing episode at the beginning of his act. You didn’t care that basically all his jokes fell flat, either. You didn’t care about any of that. All you cared about was how proud you were of him. So proud, you felt like you could burst into a million pieces.

When he finished his set, you leapt to your feet, clapping and screaming. Arthur blushed from the stage, embarrassed…and pleased. Everyone was staring at you, then back at Arthur, then back at you in dazed confusion. Two weirdo peas in a pod…and proud.

“We’re gonna take a short break,” the emcee announced.

A moment later, you and Arthur found each other at the back of the club.

“You were amazing, Arthur!” you exclaimed as you threw your arms around him.

“I'm so glad you came tonight…” he hummed into your ear. Of course, your depraved mind twisted the meaning of those two words in your head, and you found yourself having to stifle a blushing smile. You felt your body quaver with excitement at being next to him once again.

“Wait a minute…” Arthur pulled back to look at you, shock and concern flooding his face.

“Y/N, what…what happened to you?”

You blinked. “What? Nothing happened to me.”

“You’re…you’re hurt.” Arthur looked you up and down, then lifted your hands to eye-level. Bruises in the shape of what looked like fingers and fingertips lined the insides of your wrists. You frowned at the sight, utterly confused.

“Y/N, who…who did this to you?”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “I mean…I have a slight headache, but, y’know,  it’s probably just the rain.”  

“Y/N, look at me. Tell me what happened. Can you remember?”

It took a minute for your brain to register Arthur’s question, which you realized was a little strange.

“Well,” you inhaled, trying hard to formulate your thoughts. “I got on the subway…I know that. And I took it all the way to…well, whatever this stop was near here, you know? And then I got off the train and went up the stairs…and then…” you looked up into Arthur’s beautiful eyes. “And then I was here. Watching you perform for the very first time. And I’m so proud of you, Arthur!” you squealed as if you’d seen him for the first time tonight all over again.

“You don’t remember anything else? You must have hit your head.”

“I'm fine!”

“Y/N,” Arthur’s worried eyes blinked at you. “I don’t think you are. I think I need to take you to the hospital.”

“But it’s our big date!” you wailed. “I got all dressed up and everything!”

At that moment, a few Wall Street bro types brushed past and snickered at Arthur.

“Nice set, freak. In case you didn’t get the memo: you’re supposed to tell the jokes and the audience is supposed to laugh…not the other way around.”

"He has a laughing condition, you assholes!" you snarled at them without hesitation.

To everyone’s surprise, the bros paused, thrown off by the fact you’d called them out.

“Sorry…” Arthur interjected, glancing at the dudes apologetically. “She’s…she’s not feeling well.”

Arthur shot you a desperate please-shut-your-mouth-before-you-get-us-both-killed look, but you could see there was a tiny, triumphant smile curling up his lips underneath it. Still, the words were flying out of your mouth and there wasn’t much you could do to stop them.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling well,” you continued loudly, glowering at them. “Maybe if assholes would shut their fat faces and stop acting ignorant, I’d feel better.”

“Okay, you’re coming with me now!” Arthur wrapped his arm around your shoulders and scooted you towards the door. You looked over your shoulder to see them staring after you, dumbfounded. The sight of it made you laugh.

“Y/N,” Arthur pulled you into him as soon as you were outside. “I’m taking you to Gotham Hospital. We’ve gotta get you checked out.”

“No, Arthur!” you protested. You didn’t exactly know why you were so opposed to the idea, but your first instinct was to protest.

“I’m worried about you,” he emphasized. “I’m fine!”

“Y/N, please. Please? Just do it for me. Just so I know you’re okay.”

“Okay.”

You’d switched it up so quickly, Arthur blinked in disbelief. He cleared his throat, nodding.

“Uh…okay. Good. Let’s go.”

**

“This is not where I expected to end up tonight,” you lamented. Arthur sat next to you, a clipboard given to him by the nurse at the front desk in his lap. He was trying to fill out your paperwork for you.

“Um. Your last name is…L/N right?”

“Yeah” You smiled at him. “How’d you know?”

Arthur blushed. “I…might have looked at your timecard. I was…curious about you. This was before…you know…we became...closer.”

“That’s so sweet! I looked at your timecard, too!”

Arthur stifled a laugh. “What’s your date of birth?”

He patiently wrote in all the answers and brought the completed forms back up to the desk.

“I’m surprised there aren’t more people here,” you observed, looking around at the handful of other patients. “It is a Friday night, after all.”

“It’s only ten o’clock,” Arthur reasoned. “My guess is things get crazier out there in a couple hours or so.”

“I feel like things are flying out of my mouth tonight without any filter,” you blurted. “And I’m not even that angry.”

“I feel like they are, too,” Arthur agreed. “But, that’s okay. I’m glad you agreed to come here. I’m…I’m still worried about you.”  

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning in. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Arthur looked a little startled, but he nodded.

“How do you get your hair to look so good all the time?”

Arthur’s eyebrows arched and he laughed.

“I'm serious!”

“No…I'm sorry,” he demurred, looking down at the tile floor. “It's just that nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“Nobody ever said your hair looks incredible?” you asked. “Like it's the most gorgeous hair in the world? Nobody ever approached you to do shampoo commercials?”

“Maybe that's my true calling,” he joked.

“What shampoo do you use?”

"That's a personal question," Arthur teased as the door to the back of the ER swung open.

“L/N? F/N L/N?” the nurse called out.

You leapt to your feet. “Oh! That’s me.”

“Do you want me to wait here?” Arthur asked.

“Are you kidding?” You extended your hand and pulled him up. “Of course I want you to come. You’re my emotional support clown.”

**

After weighing you, taking your blood pressure, asking if you had any allergies to any medications and all the other boring details that entailed a medical visit, the nurse set you up in an examination room and read through your paperwork, pursing her lips as she centered in on the handwritten scrawl (Arthur’s handwriting of course) that explained why you’d come to the ER in the first place.

“It says here you…think you hit your head?”

“He thinks I hit my head,” you clarified, jerking said head towards Arthur. “I’m still not sure. There’s a big gap in my memory from tonight and I don’t know why.”

“There are bruises on her arms,” Arthur added. “She came to meet me and she looked…disheveled. Like someone had…”

He paused. The nurse looked you up and down.

“You don’t remember what happened to cause the bruises?”

You shrugged. “I can be clumsy sometimes.”

“You’re not…that clumsy,” Arthur murmured under his breath. “I mean,” he looked up at the nurse. “She’s a dancer. She’s…one of the most graceful people I’ve ever seen.”

“Arthur, that is so sweet!” you exclaimed.

The nurse shot you both a skeptical look, then smiled. “Your husband obviously cares for you a great deal.”

“Oh,” Arthur blushed. “I’m…not her-”

“Yes, he’s a wonderful husband!” you interjected, flashing him a slightly maniacal smile. “So protective of me. I couldn’t ask for a better one.”

“It sounds like you might have taken a fall,” the nurse continued, jotting down a few notes on your chart. “But the bruises on your wrists do look like they were caused by someone else’s hands.”

“My watch is broken, too,” you blurted.

“I’m wondering if maybe you were mugged. It happens to women in Gotham all the time, unfortunately.”

“But I still have all my money,” you pointed out, opening up your purse to show off your untouched wallet.

“Maybe you fought them off,” Arthur suggested. It wasn’t a completely outlandish notion. You were known to bring out the feistiness if the wrong people pushed your buttons.

“In any case, we’ll run some tests to check for concussion and other injuries.”

The nurse opened a drawer and handed you a light blue paper robe. “You can put this on. I’ll inform the doctor and he’ll check you over.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said.

“Of course. He should be by in just a minute.”

“What a nice lady,” you said to Arthur after she left you alone. “Don’t always meet people like that around here.”

“Very nice,” Arthur agreed. He cleared his throat. “Um…do you want me to leave, or…turn around while you get changed?”

You blinked, the reality of everything that had happened tonight finally hitting you.

“I just can’t believe this is how tonight turned out.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked softly.

“I had a whole outfit planned, Arthur! And my hair and makeup. I wanted to impress you and look beautiful for you tonight.”

“Y/N…” Arthur stood up to face you. “You are beautiful. No matter what. All I care about is that you’re okay.”

You sighed, moved by his sweet words, but you still felt utterly crestfallen and defeated. “I ruined our first date. And your big stand-up debut. I wanted tonight to be perfect so bad…”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Arthur interrupted. “I…” he paused. “Of course I wish none of this had happened to you. This city is…awful. In so many ways.” He paused, taking your hand into his. “But…I just love being with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, as long as we’re together.”

You wanted to kiss him again, but suddenly the door flew open and a man in a white coat suddenly stood before you both.

“I hear somebody got banged up tonight.”

** Dr. White’s bedside manner was on the complete other end of the spectrum of your nice nurse’s from a few minutes before, but you’d come to expect that from men with MDs. After performing the perfunctory tests of shining a light in your eyes, examining your body for additional trauma or bruising (none was found) and asking you a few routine questions, he announced his evaluation:

“My guess is you got mugged. Maybe the muggers chickened out before they could actually…you know…mug you. It does look like you’ve got a concussion.”

“What can you do for that?”Arthur asked, concerned.

The doctor snorted at what he obviously deemed a dumb question. “Not much. Just wait it out. Don’t go to sleep for a while.”

“What happens if I fall asleep?” you asked.

“You could die.”

“Oh.”

“Your brain’ll heal itself,” the doctor continued. “Might take a little time. Just try to take it easy and don’t be in places where this could happen to you again.”

“You mean the entire city?” you asked, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him. You knew what he meant, but the slight insinuation that getting mugged was somehow your fault didn’t sit great with you.

“What can I say?” Dr. White shook his head and shrugged. “Welcome to Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here all my life,” you informed him dryly. “Gotham’s a jungle.”

“Then welcome to the jungle.”

**

“Are you hungry?” Arthur asked in the lobby of the hospital. It was past midnight. “There’s a diner down the street people seem to like.” He paused. “That is…if it’s not too late for you.”

The way you saw it, you’d stay up all night with Arthur if he’d have you.

“Let’s go to the diner. I could really go for a cheeseburger."

Arthur laughed. “Okay.”

The rain had stopped and the air outside felt crisp and freshly-washed. For a brief moment, it made you forget that the garbage strike in Gotham had just entered its seventh week.

You and Arthur moved through the crowded sidewalk together, stumbling through the endless obstacles of people and garbage. A startling headline caught your eye as you walked past a newsstand, and you stopped in your tracks to read it:  

KILLER CLOWN ON THE LOOSE. LATEST NEWS ON THE MURDERS, PAGE TWO.

Beneath was a drawing of a vampiric clown.

“Can you believe that?” you asked.

Arthur paused alongside you, his eyes wide as he soaked in the headline.

“I watched this on the news last night."

Arthur nodded, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. “They worked at Wayne Enterprises. All three of them.”

You rolled your eyes. “That figures.”

Arthur cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?”

You continued, lowering your voice. “Between you and me, I actually knew one of them. Back when I was still at college. He was a complete asshole, and that’s putting it nicely.” You sighed. “And if I had to guess, those ‘friends’ of his were cut from the exact same cloth. But it looks like he finally picked the wrong person to fuck with. And I can’t say I’m shedding any tears.”

Arthur nodded slowly, taking in your words.

“I’m sorry,” you stopped yourself. “You must think I’m crazy for talking like this.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Three less pricks in Gotham City,” you quipped. “Only a million more to go!”

Arthur threw back his head and laughed. You took it as a good sign: despite the traumatic brain injury and the chaotic night you’d shared, his smile still made you go weak at the knees.

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck imagine #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #joker #joker fanfiction #joker 2019 #joaquin phoenix joker #joaquin phoenix #slow burn #friends to lovers #age gap relationship #gotham city is awful #phoenix!joker x reader

[stupidrant]

Regarding Skjoldr, I personally would go as far as to say if he got more screen time or was a regular NPC in the actual gameplay he'd be no less compelling and popular than Atreus. He has a memorable design and knows how to appreciate people. Skjoldr expressed his gratitude and admiration of Angrboda helping everyone out - along with her wolves - after Ragnarok even before Atreus mentioned her to anyone when he came to (even though Atreus knew Angrboda almost got herself killed when she protected him and Kratos during the battle and then came back for them to show them the exit). I don't blame Atreus for being spaced out because he went through a lot himself (both emotionally and physically) and once he reunited with Angrboda he thanked her for saving them and gently held her hands (one of their many classical budding romance moments).

But in the next games it is important for Atreus to learn to acknowledge just how much Angrboda has done for him and his family, completely selflessly, with no benefit for herself, risking her life and health and, unlike him, having NO support system at all. Angrboda knew that according to the prophesies (that led to her parents' deaths, no less) she was not a part of Loki's story after Ironwood. Which meant there was a great chance she could have died during Ragnarok. But she went out there, fought by his side and saved Atreus and everyone anyway (again, knowing that doing so, even if she lives, might bring her no personal happiness because Atreus/Loki would still go off on his own and possibly forget about her).

My main concern with Skjoldr is him having a bigger role and becoming Thrud's love interest (I would like to see them together because narratively it makes sense even though I don't actively ship them; at least nowhere near as much as Atreboda) would attract the omnipresent trolls who would pit him and Atreus against each other in order to put down Atreus (like they do with Thrud and Angrboda). Trolls already treat Angrboda as Atreus's extension and hate her by association but, as I noted in my other reply, they still want Atreus to be a prize/reward for Thrud. It's only a matter of time before they shift the "reward" status to Skjoldr.

What concerns me even more is the developers themselves going that route with Skjoldr. Thrud is obviously set up to have a Valkyrie arc, especially after retrieving her father's hammer. Skjoldr, sadly, might end up being forced into the "disposable love interest/fridged partner" trope, possibly with his tragic death sparking rage/revenge arc for Thrud (maybe with Atreus/Angrboda helping Thrud overcome it and not succumb to it). So my hope is that the writers don't resort to this cliched and trite scenario and don't just write off his character.

I definitely can see atreus starting to voice more of his appreciation and support for angrboda as hes already done some of this already in rag. She deserves all the love for sure ❤️ i do think skjoldr will be a bit popular next game if they invest in him more since they might go the route of the story of the danish king marrying the valkyrie and i honestly hope they do 🥺

thats crazy you mentioned the whole thing of the fandom possibly going in that faux “love triangle” direction with AST bcuz i was thinking something else completely different but i will talk abt that another time. for now ill just say im very happy atreboda is a duo and NOT in a trio and i hope that continues on regarding their relationship lol

#Much to think abt #atreus #angrboda #skjoldr #thrud #god of war #god of war ragnarok #asks #gowr

[ghostoffuturespast]

hey ghostie i was gna get specific for the ask game but I wanna know *all* of it now, the acronyms, the full names, all of em! are they for cyberpunk or other fandoms? no matter how much there is to know, i wanna know! talking about an idea helps a lot, i speak from experience! thanks for the mention, ill get on the wip game soon, too! ❤️

WIP Game Here

Thank you for the ask! I appreciate it :) They are all Cyberpunk 2077 things lol. I’ve largely been a lurker in other fandoms until this one, and this is the first one that finally compelled me to make stuff and that I’ve had the bravery to share. Don’t have many snippets at the moment, all of what I have so far is already out there. Since you asked for all of them though, I shall dish and give you a bit of a peak behind the curtain on how all this got started…

(I’m sorry, this got very rambly.)

And def tag me when you do yours! I will come find you and your wips! 🧡

SIG - So It Goes

(The title is based off the radio song from the game that you can listen to on Morro Rock. Never officially released and credited to the fictional band Fingers and the Outlaws in the game. Officially sung by Ryan Kattner, the front singer of the band Man Man.)

SIG is my current V/River conspiracy theory long fic that I’m working on, and the project is coming up on its two year anniversary. It’s also my first fic. I’m hoping to wrap it up this spring so I can move on to other creative endeavors. There are a lot of art projects, fandom and non-fandom related, that I’ve held off on because of this and I miss those hobbies. I also feel like I’ve been missing out a lot in the writing corner of the fandom too because a lot of new writers have popped up on the scene since I started (back when there was still a monopoly on the tag, but that’s a different story) and everyone else seems to be having fun reading everyone else’s fics, except me… Reading’s complicated for me right now. Writing this had a lot of ups and downs, but overall I’ve loved telling this story, learned a lot, and I’m really proud of it!

I think most people get into fic writing for the ships, the romance, the smut, the processing of internalized trauma, a more satisfactory ending, weird niche interests… And don’t get me wrong there’s a lot of appeal with all that, and definitely those aspects in my own work. But this whole thing got started because of conspiracy theories. I fucking love mysteries and puzzles, so after playing the sun ending and then I spotting Mr. Blue Eyes on the balcony during the conclusion of Dream On, I just about lost my damn mind. I went down the rabbit hole, spent hours reading shards and messages in the game, combed reddit theory posts, and started picking up on all the hints and foreshadowing of something larger looming throughout the game.

I initially didn’t have any answers when I made the decision to start this fic (fuck, high probability I still don’t), it was largely me brainstorming and trying to figure out what kind of story I wanted to write. Seeing if I could even piece things together. But in the process of thinking all that through, I came up with this little theory. I thought it was pretty mind blowing at the time (still think it is) but it’s been my little secret since I got here and I’m very anxious to finally share it.

Most people probably would have just written a theory post and been done with it, but I decided to turn mine into a fan fic lol. Which may or not have been a mistake, we’ll see. This is either gonna be game changing or everyone is going to think it’s dumb and I’m gonna be wearing a dunce cap for the next fifty years.

River Ward. The other half of my reason for writing this fic. I actually wasn’t sure if I liked him at first, it took me a while to warm up to him. But the more I got to know him, the more I started to like him. The more he grew on me. He got hotter over time. Plus, I’ve got a fondness for detective characters and unusual coats, so I should’ve seen it coming.

River’s gotten a lot of flak from this fandom. People claim he’s boring. He’s a cop, so acab. Being unemployed and living in a trailer park with your sister, niece, and nephews isn’t a particularly redeeming quality. I don’t agree with most of those statements, but I do agree with the folks who do appreciate his character, that in terms of development, he absolutely got shafted in the game. This fic is also an attempt to rectify that.

For as underdeveloped as his story arc was, there’s a lot of nuance to his character that I think gets glossed over by the game and most people. We didn’t get much, but out of what we did get, it’s been interesting trying to piece a story together that’s in line with what we got. And I did mention earlier that I like puzzles.

I’ve noticed that a lot of folks tend to lean very hard into the cop aspect of his character, but as far as I’m concerned, River Ward doesn’t give a shit about the law. Conducting an off the record investigation, intimidating a confidential informant, illegally obtaining evidence, breaking into a restricted lab, committing arson for your ex so she can pass a medical exam, conducting another investigation after being suspended; those are not the actions of a man who holds the letter of the law above all else. Those are the actions of man who is determined to get to the bottom of things, and protect people, all while navigating a system that is anything but equitable or fair. They are the actions of a man who is willing to go above and beyond for the people he cares about, even to his own detriment. His own safety. For River Ward, it was never about the law, it’s about justice. And pursuing that sometimes involves breaking the rules.

River is also Pomo. Which is something that was only added in subsequent patches, heavily glossed over in the game, and is only disclosed if you choose to actually romance him. But he’s Indigenous. Native American. And yet he still made a conscious decision to join the NCPD. Given the historical participation by law enforcement and government institutions in North America, and around the world, in the cultural erasure and mass genocide of entire nations, tribes, and communities of people. And given the current state of issues regarding law and judicial enforcement on tribal lands, I think River's character is a rather poignant reflection. Of wanting to good, of wanting the world to be better, but being confined in systems that simply won't allow that. There's a billion other little details I could ramble on about, but his character had the capacity to walk a very fine line of complexities which the game never really did justice to.

Diversity and representation in media are important to me, and I want this fic to reflect that. Being bi-racial, I didn’t get very much of it growing up, so if I can provide representation, even in some small capacity, I think it’s better than nothing. And while I don’t know if I’m achieving that, well, shit if I’m not trying.

I wouldn’t say this story was really meant to be original, but rather to fill in the gaps on the story we got and for me to practice writing. Practice telling a story. CP2077 is a violent game set in a violent world. And I somehow managed to start writing a story that accidentally ended up being a love letter to aikido. (Much to my chagrin. It’s everywhere. In everything. I cannot escape it.) Aikido is a martial art that translates “to the way of peace” or “the path of harmony.” Yet again, another study in dichotomies. How can a martial art, an art form designed to inflict violence, be peaceful? Aikido is as much of a martial art as it is a philosophy. We train to practice and learn that philosophy.

One of the major themes I’m exploring in this fic series is the nature of violence. What it is, the forms it takes, how cyclical it is, that it is a relationship - violence requires your participation. So the question ends up being: how do you break cycles of violence when you live in a world where you are beholden to it? V and River are very much two characters that are caught up in cycles of violence. Will they find peace? I don’t know, but maybe they can find out together.

From The Top

(This one isn’t named after a song. I just decided to start from the beginning.)

From The Top is the VP project I started up last spring where I’ve been taking storyboard style photos of all the main missions. Plus whatever else I feel like. I take all of my photos on PS5 in vanilla photomode and randomly started snapping pictures just because. I did landscape photos, shared a few. Got a bit of nice feedback from people who cared to look and then started branching out. I eventually got to the point where I started a new playthrough for the sole purpose of snapping photos.

Taking VP is very different from writing for me. I don’t have to think about. I don’t agonize about making sure every tiny detail is just right, because for the most part I don’t have very much control It’s candid, intuitive, experimental, it’s straight up play. I simply wait for opportunities to present themselves and capture whatever I think looks or feels interesting to me. It’s easy for me to walk away from it if it doesn’t do well when I post. Unlike my writing, there’s no ego attached to it.

I’m getting to the tail end of this project, I still have a couple of the base game missions to get through, but I’d also like to do Phantom Liberty as well. Not sure what my VP career is going to look like after this, might go into soft retirement. But that’s okay.

NR - Night Running

(Named after Night Running by Cage the Elephant)

Is a sleeper wip that’s currently in the notes, brainstorming, and kitchen drawer phase. It’s part 2 of my Nothing Comes Before Night City series. So It Goes is part 1.

It takes a long time for me to mull over and ruminate on ideas, so this document is largely just a repository for notes and thoughts. Jamming the utensils in the drawer until I’m ready to organize them. I have a very broad idea of what I’d like to happen in this fic, key moments I’d like to hit, but there’s still a lot of refinement that needs to happen, and stories this involved require me outlining. I do already have a running set list of songs to draw from though.

Les Preludes

(Named after Les Preludes by Franz Liszt)

Another sleeper wip, also in the brainstorming phase. These are meant to be one-shots or short stories from the Nothing Comes Before Night City series. Moments I mentioned in the series, but can’t fit into the larger story. Character studies and background lore from V, River, Johnny, Jackie, a couple of OCs and whatever else I can think of.

I will probably start casually working on these after I finish SIG and while I’m outlining NR. I’d like the series to go in chronological order. Should be fun. And I think it’ll be good practice for being more concise. Unlike, this response...

If you stuck around for this TedTalk and made it all the way to the end, thank you! 👻

#wip game #ask away! #tag you're it #cyberpunk 2077 #from the top #fic: so it goes #works in progress #long post #river ward #nothing comes before night city

[riaaanna]

Queen Fanclub Convention 2023 Part 1: First Impressions

Hello again! This will be another series of posts on my time at the Official Queen Fanclub Convention 2023! This is the first time I've ever joined the convention, and I signed up as a member last year just to be able to go here.

The convention ran from 6-9 October 2023 and took place at Haven Golden Sands Holiday Park, Mablethorpe. Mablethorpe is in the east, which I've never really been to and trains don't really go there from Manchester. Apparently this has been the traditional venue over the years. It's a holiday park by the beach where we stay in caravans and the main events took place in a big hall. I was a bit wary of it at first because it was unfamiliar but it turned out to be quite nice.

Travelling there would have been a chore from Manchester. I would have had to take a total of four(?) hours of train with two changes and get off at Skegness before taking an hour of shuttle to the venue. But fortunately I didn't have to, thanks to my friend and saviour Ian who very kindly allowed me to tag along from Stafford (only an hour from Manchester) all the way to Mablethorpe. He was the reason I survived the entire convention so big cheers to him from here on!

Here's the full programme for the convention! As you can see lots of fun things ahead - but we'll cover the first welcome night for now!

I decided to arrive as per schedule but it was already so crowded and I struggled to find a spot, until I managed to get one at the back near the bar. So learned my lesson from then on to always come in early if I ever want to get a good spot to see the stage and screens clearly (and avoid the horribly noisy bar). While a good portion of people were properly paying attention to the event there was also about half the room who were just chattering among themselves and catching up with each other. So from early on I could already tell that the place is full of regulars, treating the event as a reunion more than anything. (Looking at photos from previous years, you can tell that "Queen Convention" banner on the stage has been reused too many times lol)

It was a bit intimidating to come in as a newbie (and I missed that newbie welcome session too). I told the reception desk I was new and they were very welcoming. I didn't expect them to do anything for me but then just before the event started, Queen Fanclub president herself Jacky came up to my table just to say hello to me the newbie! She was so nice and really made sure I felt welcome. The picture below is from a later night but here is she!

It was about an hour ish of meeting new friends (including Priscilla who ended up being great company through the entire weekend - big shoutout to her!! 🥺💖) and chatting before the event started. Jacky made a lovely welcome speech, which specifically made sure newbies feel welconed right after our chat! And we received a welcome video from Brian - filmed on the first day of the QAL tour in the US just before they went on stage. Credits to David Taylor for the first part of the video which I merged with mine (Brian's part).

Afterwards there was also Doug Bogie (left) making an appearance on stage. He is apparently an active regular at the Queen Convention, being involved behind the scenes and everything, which I didn't know and is pretty cool. Aside from him Barry Mitchell was also quite active but has apparently recently taken ill (right), so we all sent him well wishes (and later on wrote on a huge get well soon card for him).

And finally - the band of the night! Live Killers (a Queen tribute band) took the stage and this was the second time I saw them live, the first being in Montreux. They were with a different vocalist iirc, but they were just as fantastic! And as a bonus... Tim Staffell made a surprise appearance on stage and sang Doin' Alright with the band!

Overall a great first night! I didn't want to stay up too late so I could prepare for the next full day. The next few posts will mostly focus on each guest panel, as they're the highlights and main reasons for me coming to the convention. As always thank you for reading!

#queen band #freddie mercury #brian may #roger taylor #john deacon #tim staffell #queen convention #Ri goes to UK #Youtube

[experiment14-12]

I'm just gonna go on a rant real quick, on

Why 2021 - 2024 are the Worst Years of my Life

TRIGGER WARNING: May contain references of violence, and illness. The reader's discretion is advised.

Ever since March 13th of 2020, about 4 years ago, the world has gone downhill because of the fear of death. The Coronavirus ruined everything. I'll give you my rundown.

In 2020, COVID kicked everyone's ass. The USA was quarantined for two weeks. Toilet paper was vanishing left and right. Everyone stayed home for what seemed like forever.

In 2021, Friday Night Funkin' became the hot new thing. I made two new blogs. I met @oogaboogaspookyman for the first time, and his actions will forever change how I see things, for the better. My boyfriend moved away to another state, so we had to part ways. My negligent sister (she was living with me, my brother and my mom at the time) whom I will call Jessica, has finally moved out of our house. Things were going great for the first 10 months, but then December 5th came. My mom was diagnosed with COVID. Now, WE had to stay home for 2 MORE weeks. My narcissistic sister (who only had 1 kid at the time) whom I will call Karen, stayed with us. Everyone was trapped in their rooms. I had my own, my brother had HIS own, my sister and her son shared one, my mom had her own, you know the drill. It was kind of cool, staying home for 2 weeks, finally having my own room after a decade of sharing one with at least one of my brothers. It felt like I could do anything without anyone looking. We were quarantined, so why not? Once the quarantine was lifted, it was already Christmastime, and we only had a week to shop. After the quarantine was lifted, I felt my first case of derealization. Words cannot describe how awful it felt. Everything was blurry, but... not blurry... at the same time. It felt like everything was shifting, but not moving. I remembered myself standing in my room, feeling really weirded out and scared that everything was losing its form. Then, it stopped. I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night.

In 2022, Sonic.EXE became popular again. I finally got a Meta Quest 2 VR headset. Karen officially moved in with us. That was her first mistake. She should've just stayed with my drunk-as-all-hell dad who lived next door. I was introduced to Ori and the Blind Forest. I loved it. It became my favorite game. Then, what clicked in my head, verified me as... a furry. That just made matters worse. People at school made fun of/bullied me for being an "EwW fUrRy WhY dOn't YoU cHoOsE a DiFfErEnT pAtH???" I became more violent as time went on. Why are people like this? Why do people call someone out for the stupidest reasons?

In 2023, I was invited to the dark side of the moon. New peeps in the world (and my house) so my two sisters, Karen, and another who I will call Georgia, had kids. Georgia and her boyfriend were driven out of their house by roaches, so they moved with us. Both of my sisters became greedy little shit stains. Now, we have 3 maggots running around the house. I suffered through my second case of derealization. This time, I'm sharing a room with my brother yet again. I hate it. But, I'm sure glad I have a Wii again. My hyperfixation is now Night in the Woods again. We went camping. It was fun. It was... fine...

Now, 2 months ago, my aunt, who I will call Dorothy, passed away due to an overdose. This rocked me to my core. Rest in peace, aunt Dorothy. The house, in shambles. My sanity, running low. Poppy Playtime Chapter 3 came out. I now have a new hyperfixation: the Smiling Critters. Things were not looking good.

It is now March 4th, 2024. I feel like absolute shit. I have too many assignments and projects to catch up on. My life is becoming more and more similar to Mae Borowski's.

I now know how @thelonelyfeline feels.

My life is starting to become the vibes of this song.

#Spotify

[hatbox-apologist]

Love's Dark Afflictions

Warnings: Romance, a bit of blood, mention of grief, mention of murder, canon divergence

Preface: You already know this story, so I’ll make it easy on you and summarize. The first paragraph summarizes parts 1 through 3 and most of part 4 from The Ghost In My Heart and details small changes of events. Then it picks back up, but things feel a little different than before.

You were fairly new to New Orleans when you got an invitation to a party at Gracey Manor. The party went swimmingly, even getting a second invitation by Master William Gracey for a picnic, but it wasn’t meant to be, since you had to go on a 3 week trip out of state. When you returned, William Gracey informed you that Eleanor Gracey had fallen ill with yellow fever and died before you had gotten back, making your return a sour one. 3 months later you hear from other socialites that William Gracey hasn’t been seen since Eleanor died so you go to check on him and he is a mess so you take pity on him and take care of him. You do this for a month until you get impatient and start researching ways to communicate with the dead. You find just the right books that tell you it’s possible through seances, of course you are going to need a medium. So you used your status to find one. Her name was Madame Leota, and she came at a very high price, but you haggled it down to $3. In the first seance, the ghost chose to speak through Madame Leota, but it wasn’t Eleanor, so you had to try again the next night, and you kept trying each midnight. Eventually you get impatient yet again, but this time for good reason, after so many seances costing you more and more each night, you could no longer afford to keep up your chateau so William offered you a room in the Mansion to stay in. So this time, instead of looking in books, you go into the heart of New Orleans looking for more ways to summon her. You found your way into backrooms, cellars, dark alleyways, and even some sideshow tents. You heard about so many different ways of contacting the dead, but one that stuck out to you the most was a sort of occult ritual that required blood sacrifice. You were curious about it and became fascinated by it, but never acted on your interest. You never told William or Madame Leota of your fascination with it because you knew they wouldn’t approve, of course who would. You kept your fascination a secret and your thoughts silent.

Finally, the day had come, the first year anniversary of it all. This time, you felt something needed to be different. Something had to change, so you take matters into your own hands. You remembered something about the cult ritual you witnessed a few months ago. You saw them using animal blood and bones, this gave you an idea. So you go out hunting in the morning with a few servants and down a few small games, saying it was for the kitchen to prepare for dinner that night in celebration of the anniversary. When they were picking them clean of meat, you told them to keep some of the bones for broth. When they had finished, you snuck into the kitchen and took a handful of small, unbroken, clean, and dry bones, just as the ritual specified. Then you let some of the game's blood from the chopping block drip onto a handkerchief. You wrap the bones in the handkerchief and bind it with twine and hide it in your waist coat before anyone can see and sneak back out.

Before you knew it was time for the seance again, though this time you were a little more confident in summoning Eleanor. "In a merry mood today, y/n?" Madame Leota asks at the smirk on your face when you sit in your usual place in the seance room, but with a smile on your face. "Well, of course, it's the 1st anniversary, a thing to celebrate, is it not?" You say. "I suppose it is." She says, smiling. She clears her throat and begins as usual. “Serpents and spiders, tail of a rat; call in the spirits, wherever they’re at.” Madame Leota says, and the seance begins. the crystal ball glows and levitates. You feel like someone or something is trying to say something to you, but it all just comes out in jumbled hushed whispers. “Anything yet?” William asks Madame Leota. “No, nothing.” she says, concentrating. “I hear something. It sounds like they’re trying but can’t quite find the words?” You say tilting your head. “Hmm. They chose you? That’s odd. Wizards and witches, wherever you dwell, give us a hint by ringing a bell!” Madame Leota gestures to a brass bell on the table, but again, nothing happens. “Wrap on a table. It's time to respond! Send us a message from somewhere beyond!” shouted Madame Leota, slamming her hand down on the table. And finally you saw him. Only his head showed through the crystal ball. His face burned into your memory. His wicked grin and his crazed eyes. His eyes darted over to you and noticed the entranced look on your face. “You.” he says and tilts his head down at you. Suddenly, you felt his soul, his aura, his overpowering madness, and insatiable bloodlust overwhelmed you. The darkness you thought you had silenced reawakened in you. Your face blushed a vibrant red hue. “Y/n? What is it? What’s happening.” William asked concerned. You were speechless. It felt like he had taken the air right out of your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. The head grinned from ear to ear at your reaction, and then suddenly you saw all his murders flash by your eyes in an instant, and you saw them as if looking through his eyes. You felt his fiendish glee as blood sprinkled his face like beautiful crimson freckles. He never so much as blinked away from the gruesome display. You felt your heart skip a beat, and it scared you more than what you had just witnessed. Then his head vanished from the ball, and you frantically looked around the room. You peek behind your chair to find him standing there, hunched over with a cane in one hand and a glowing hatbox in the other. His head, now inside the hatbox, illuminates the corner of the room in a bright yellow light. “Boo!” he says and chuckles at you when you jump. “No no no! Shut it down! Shut it down!” You practically scream to Madame Leota. While keeping eye contact with the hatbox ghost. He takes a menacing step towards you, scraping his other foot across the floor. “You can’t banish me, foolish mortal.” he cackles out. Madame Leota lights the sage and waves it around the space to get him to leave, but he stands unwavering. “Aww, that won’t hurt me. You know better than that.” he scoffs and continues towards you. William grabs the bell and starts ringing in the direction where you’re looking. “Ugh! Such noise!” The ghost says and dematerializes. You turned around to see if the crystal ball had stopped glowing, and it did. So you slump back down in your chair, knowing the portal had closed.

Your heart racing in your chest, you pant, gripping the arms of the chair to stop yourself from quaking. “Is everyone alright?” you pant out. “Yes.” Madame Leota says calming down. “Yes, but are you alright?” William says concerned. “For now. Though, we need to banish that ghost back to the region beyond. I don’t know who or what that ghost is, but it’s evil and maddening.” You say darkly. His face flashes in your memory, it’s all you see behind your eyelids when you so much as blink, it makes your heart skip even though you try to suppress it. “I’ll see what I can do to find a banishment.” Madame Leota says opening her book, William still looks concerned at you but says nothing. “I’m going to go for a gin.” You say trying desperately to stand while your legs quake against your will. “Would you like to borrow my cane?” Madame Leota says, seeing you struggle. “Yes, thank you.” You say, accepting her cane and then hobble up the stairs to the living room.

You call a servant for a gin and sit down on a sofa. You sigh and put your elbows on your knees to cradle your head. You close your eyes only for a moment and see his face again. “Your gin?” the servant says, making your heart leap out of your chest, and you fall back onto the sofa. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you.” the servant says. “No, no, it's alright.” You say, taking the gin and downing half of it. “Rough night?” the servant says observing you. “Extremely.” You say running your hand down your face. “Penny for your thoughts?” the servant asks, looking down at your trembling figure. “Not a chance. Not tonight.” You say downing the rest of the gin. “Oh not even the slightest detail?” the servant says, but the voice isn’t the one you heard before. It was his. Your eyes go wide, and you look up at the servant. Their nose is bleeding, and their eyes have dark circles under them. “You!” You shoot up and grab the servant by the collar. “I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-” the servant pleads. You drag the servant by the collar to the seance room. “Y/n?! What in the world are you doing?!” William says, and Madame Leota looks up from her book and gasps. “He’s using this servant as a puppet!” You say to them confidently. William and Madame Leota look at you puzzled. “Look they have blood-” and as you look over, the servant looks right as rain, just as they appeared before. Your face falls. “But they were just - Their nose was bleeding, and their eyes-” you say, studying the servant's face. “Dear… maybe you should get some rest.” Madame Leota suggests gently as to not stir you. “No please, you must believe me.” You plead, looking back at them. “William?” You look at William. He opens his mouth, then closes it and takes a moment to think and dismay dawns on his face. “Maybe you do need some rest. After the events of the night.” He looks up at you while hanging his head. You look back at the servant, who is still fearfully looking at you. You retract your hand from their collar, and it trembles terribly as you do so, so you cover it with your other hand to stop it from shaking so much. You look skittishly back at them now, questioning your own sanity in the matter. William tries to say something and reach out to you, but you run out of the seance room to your guest bedroom.

You run in and shut the door, leaning on it as soon as you shut it. You cover your face, and tears burn your eyes. You crumple in on yourself and slide down the door until you sit on the floor. Why did you have to go and ruin things like this? You knew you summoned the hatbox ghost. It was all your fault. What were you thinking? Mucking about with cult ritual practices. Now Madame Leota and William think you've gone insane. They'll never trust you again. You sit there in choked sobs with your thoughts, poisoning your mind for a while until a soft knock is heard on the door. “Yes?” You choke out. “Hello, I know you may not want to hear from me right now, but Master Gracey sent another gin to you.” it was the servant from earlier that you had hallucinated to be the hatbox ghost. You stand up, wiping your tears and open the door to see the servant. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” The servant puts their hand up in surrender. You walk over and sit down on a bench at your vanity, motioning for the servant to come in. “Ah, I’m glad to see we’re on good terms then.” they say cheerfully.

They walk in and set your gin down on the vanity, and you immediately pick it up and down it all. “Is there anything else you’ll be needing tonight?” the servant says, but this time again it’s him. You whip your head up at the servant to see their nose bleeding again, and the dark circles had returned to under their eyes. “Demon! Leave before I demolish you, you wretched fiend.” You say through gritted teeth and stand up slowly. “Oh, what a tease with such threats. They do not match your pristine looks, so I doubt they’re anything but empty.” He taunts through the servant’s mouth and throws a gesture in the air, and the door to your room closes quietly. You grab the servant by the shoulder and throw them against the wall. “Ah, now that’s surprising. Not so empty after all. But do remember the precious servant’s body. I'm only borrowing it after all.” He says, trying to remind you that you can’t hurt him while he uses the servant. “Then let him go. I want to see your face.” You said sternly, still gripping the servant’s shoulder against the wall. The ghost laughs, “Alright, if you insist.” “NO. Not here, out in the hall.” You demand pointing at the door. The ghost scoffs and walks the servant out and closes the door.

A moment passes, and you hear the servant walk away. “There, never say I didn’t help your reputation.” He says from somewhere in the room. “Materialize. I demand it.” you say. “Already done, my dear.” he says right behind you. You spin around and again pin him against the wall. “Ugh with this again?” He says frustrated. “Who are you, and why are you here?” you demand. “Well, I’m Alistair Crump, and you and your medium friend summoned me, obviously. I doubt if the tragic and pathetic looking man had anything to do with it.” he says smugly. “No, why have you come to haunt me. Alistair.” You say more directly, using his name now to make a point. The ghost splits a smile at this. “By the rosieness of your cheeks, I would say you know.” he says, raising a brow. You blush even more under his gaze. “Nevermind that.” You say and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m here to see why you took such an interest in me.” he said, finally answering the question. “Who says I took interest in you?” You say, and the ghost scoffs and gestures to your current position. You step back and fold your arms. “Is that truly why you’re here? To torment me?” you say, glaring at him. “I saw something in you when we connected-” He reaches out to you, but you grab his wrist midair. “May I?” he says, raising a brow. And you look at his hand then at his face. He doesn’t seem to have a weapon either, so you release his wrist cautiously. “Thank you.” he says and slowly, gently cups your cheek, and your heart pounds out of your chest, making him giggle at your reddening face. “I saw it in you.” he says, studying your features. “Saw what?” you ask suspiciously. “That darkness. The bloodlust. And moreover, a morbid curiosity.” He says, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. You let him stay there even though you’re incredibly vulnerable. “I never thought another could feel the way I do.” He hums and lets his hand fall away from your face. You miss his touch but only for a moment when you remember who he is and what he’s done.

“I… I don’t want to feel this way. It’s… wrong.” You say, and he lets out a giggle. “Wrong?” He questions. “You killed dozens of innocent people, Alistair!” You confront him. “Yes, but you know how it felt. I felt your pretty little heart racing in your chest when I showed you my sins. You enjoyed it, and you weren’t even the one committing them!” he retorts, leaving you flustered. “You crave it now, I just know it.” He says. “No, I don’t!” You demand and take a step towards him, and he takes a step back. “I know you do! I can feel it in you!” He says. “You’re evil!” You say, and take another step, and he takes another step back. “Maybe, but I know you can be so much worse than I ever was!” He says, hitting his back against the wall unexpectedly. “I am not a murderer!” you say and punch the wall near an inch away from his head, leaving a sizable hole in it. The ghost bursts out laughing in your face. You pull your fist out of the wall and look at your bloodied knuckles in horror at what you’d just done. You take a stumble taking a step back, still staring at your fist in terror. Alistair steps up to you, not even the slightest bit afraid. He puts his hand under your fist and unravels your fingers in his palm. He brushes the debris off your bloody knuckles and brings it up to his lips, and gently kisses the back of your hand. You feel yourself melt into his touch and choose not to resist your feelings. “You caused such beautiful destruction, my dear. It’s quite the step in the right direction.” He says, holding your hand in his. You drop to your knees, still keeping your hand in his. So in love with this corpse of a man and so overwhelmed with emotion, you felt your internal battle shift for the worst.

“What darker side of me does this reveal? “What will become of me?” You say, now shaking and beginning to cry again. “Oh dear, don’t cry.” He says, taking his other hand and picking up your chin to look up at him. “Don’t you see? This is merely the dawn of you. You can do so much more than just this.” He says, gesturing to the wall. He notices how tired you look and how your eyes are dilated and red from all your crying. “But for now, I know mortals need their beauty rest, so I suggest you get some sleep before you look as ghoulish as some of your ghostly residents.” He says, helping you up. He guides you over to your bed and pulls up the covers for you. You climb in, and Alistair dims the lights in the room, your eyes already half lidded. “Now sleep tight.” he says and dematerializes. You let your exhausted body finally relax, and sleep comes easy to you.

Chapter 2

#haunted mansion #the haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #hatbox ghost #william gracey #master gracey #alistair crump #madame leota #disneys haunted mansion #alistair crump x reader #alistair crump x you #hatbox ghost x reader #the hatbox ghost

[plural-culture-is]

i fear that i may be a system in denial or something along those lines.

for years of my life, ive struggled with three voices in my head, dissociation, derealization, depersonalization, way-too-over-the-top delusions, hallucinations here and there, and never feeling like who im supposed to be. a few months ago, i thought that it could have to do with undiagnosed schizophrenia or some type of schizo-related disorder (because of the delusions and hallucinations). but recently, ive noticed that these things are all getting worse.

there are more voices. its no longer just the three. and i feel like i should know these voices, even though i dont. they're still strangers to me.

my struggles with dissociation, derealization, and depersonalization have gotten worse---especially the derealization and depersonalization.

my main delusion has been growing stronger and stronger, becoming more and more severe. (though the strength of it tends to vary, so...)

nothing's gone on with the hallucinations. at least, i dont think so. i haven't been paying attention.

and my feelings of never feeling "right" or "correct" have gotten so much stronger. i cant go ten minutes without thinking, is this who i really am? am i faking who i am? if im faking my identity, who am i really? why dont i know who i truly am? will i ever learn who i truly am? am i the only one who cant figure out who they are? why do i never feel like im my true self? why do i always faking who i am? how do i act like my true self? does my true self even exist at this point? and et cetera.

i dont think im a system. i dont want to be a system. i dont want to be plural. i already struggle enough with my neurodevelopmental and physical disabilities. i already struggle enough my mental health and with trauma. i dont need the struggles of having did or osdd or something related. i dont want the struggles, either.

but the more and more i research did for my system character in one of my books, i find more that i can relate to. as i mentioned earlier, i used to think that i might be schizophrenic due to my delusions and hallucinations. but just the other day as i was doing more research about did for my character, i found out that its possible for systems and plurals to often struggle with those things. and my brain went down a deep rabbit hole, like, well fuck shit balls, could i possibly be plural? did my trauma fuck me up that much???

as i went down that rabbit hole, i realized that i dont remember a lot of my childhood. i remember a few specific memories, most of which are either traumatic or just funny memories that ive told as stories numerous times. other than that, i know next to nothing. i also have times where i cant remember shit about anything. my name, my age, my address, what schools ive gone to, what school i go to now, what i did ten hours ago, what i did five seconds ago, et cetera. ive also noticed that im constantly remembering those things wrong. "how old are you?" someone could ask. "im thirteen years old," ill say, then correct myself, "no, wait, im x years old." ive even said that im seven years old when im in fact much older than that. people could ask me, "what's your name?" and ill answer with something that's not my name. could be a nickname from school, a nickname from the many summer camps ive gone to, my pen name for my books, or a random name in general. and there are so many examples that i could give.

back to my doing research stuff for my character, i was going through one website when i found an infographic. it was a simple thing; just five common symptoms of dissociative identity disorder. it listed...

~ inability to remember large portions of your childhood

~ out-of-body experiences, hallucinations, and/or flashbacks

~ suicidal thoughts or self-harm

~ differences in handwriting and changing levels of functioning

~ episodes of memory loss

if i dont experience them now, ive experienced all of them before. the first one, i just mentioned. the second one happens all of the fucking time. the third one happens on a daily basis. the first half of the fourth i haven't really noticed, but the second half is very true. and i just talked about the fifth one.

i dont know if i just have some type of dissociative disorder or im just crazy. but i cant get it out of my head that i might be a system or a system in early development. (dont really know how to explain what i mean by "in early development," but ill try to: what i mean is that im in the early developing stages where dissociation starts happening frequently and alters start forming, but switches arent possible yet.) that or ive been forcing myself---if i am plural and in denial---to act like a normal person, just like ive been doing with autism and adhd.

do you have any advice on how to figure out if im a system or not??? i dont have access to a therapist or psychologist due to my parents not believing in mental illness and things like that.

sorry, we've just stopped accepting am I plural asks, so this one goes out to the public

also, here's our resources for questioning systems

#not plural culture #am i plural #plural system #plurality #actuallyplural #anonymous

[scattered-winter]

Say, what are some characters you feel like had a metric ton of potential that was completely scrapped by the writers?

i feel like it would be cheating if i said all of them so. ill try and be more specific lmao <3 i was gonna show restraint and only do a few but FUCK IT you're getting the entire essay

coran. i know he's meant to be the Comic Relief character but idk. its possible to have a comic relief character who also has gravity and emotion, ykw ??? like idk i feel like all the show/fandom ever talks about is how allura lost everything (which is TRUE. SHE DID. IM NOT TRYING TO MINIMIZE THAT AT ALL.) but idk. allura was young enough that she probably didn't really have an established life on altea yet but coran??? he was an adult. fully grown, probably had friends or coworkers, even a partner and family. idk idk he lost as much as if not more than allura did and the writers barely ever acknowledged it. he isn't allowed to connect with any of the characters or have any actual genuine moments because he's supposed to be The Funny One. idk if the writing actually aknowledged his grief and trauma more, but still made him so lighthearted and goofy, that would be FASCINATING. HE STILL HAS HOPE. HE CAN STILL LAUGH. ET CETERA. but noooo he's just Silly with nothing deeper to it. sigh

in that same vein, hunk. again, he's often comic relief (and that comic relief is usually a fat joke

lotor. ik a lot of ppl have mixed opinions on the guy (fair) but like. he had SO much potential to be so many different things but i think the writers just. had too many things they wanted him to be. so his writing was all over the place because they couldn't make up their minds

haggar......again. i had SUCH a hard time pinning down any of her motives or characterization when she was the Main Villain (which to be fair might have been due to the fact that i was Mentally Checked The Fuck Out by the time s7/s8 rolled around) but like ??? i still have no idea what she was trying to do as the main villain in s7/8. she was such a menacing villain in the first few seasons but then the writing got soo confusing and needlessly complicated and i completely lost interest in anything about her character

shiro. the fact that he went through So Much but still gave the blade of marmora enough hope to risk everything to rescue him and kickstart the events of s1 ??? the fact that he Continued to go through So Much but was still a rock for the team and was still goofy and fun and dorky and lovable ?????? and ALL THAT to not even be in the show for the next 5 or so seasons and then be permanently sidelined when he DOES come back. what the fuck. like they tried to have an atlas metaphor later on to try and bring him back into the narrative but it was MEANINGLESS. sooo much wasted potential. a narrative about healing....finding love + family + connection......ending the war that has caused so much pain for Him Personally......man. we could have had it ALL

keith. i legiterally don't even recognize keith after s3 like !!! who is this man !!!!! he had abandonment + anger issues from being alone his Whole Life and instead of finding a close-knit family in space, he was isolated again and again and again, and shoved into a role he didn't want and wasn't meant for, and by the end bro was UNRECOGNIZABLE. in theory i LOVE the concept of keith learning to rely on his team more and take more of a leadership role as he grows as a person + teammate, but they had the PERFECT opportunity to do that already with keith being red paladin!!!!!!!! the red paladin is voltron's right hand!!!!!!! if the black isn't there, then red steps up to take charge!!!!!! idk. it would have been so so so so cool if shiro was only missing Temporarily and keith had to work through his own grief/fear/etc and take up the mantle of red paladin to keep the team together just long enough until shiro got back because he would NOT want that shit long-term. idk. i know keith literally got most of the storylines and arcs in the show but i still think he had wasted potential because most of those arcs fundamentally misunderstood him as a character and turned him into something he wasn't. idk

allura. she lost her ENTIRE FAMILY her ENTIRE CULTURE her ENTIRE SPECIES and it doesn't stop there lol !!!! over the course of the show she lost LITERALLY EVERYTHING. the castle of lions (the last remnant of her home), her tiara thingie (last thing she had left of her family), AND her life. what the fuuuck what the fuck. EVEN WITH the other alteans w romelle's group, allura still got discarded. like idk. she grieved her whole people and tried so hard to lead this resistance and then after she's grown so much and become a powerful leader and warrior she becomes queen of new altea. that would have been SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

matt. he was alone in space for YEARS. like its unclear how long it was between shiro saving him from the arena and pidge finally finding him, but it was at LEAST a year, probably longer. he was a prisoner for most of that time, separated from the only two people he knew, and likely thinking they're both dead. no way to be rescued. no way to escape. and THEN when he IS rescued by the rebels, he's alone still because he's the only human!!! none of them can speak his language!!! he can't go home!!!! and ofc he fights the galra as part of the resistance and is this badass rebel leader but the show doesn't shed ANY light on how he got there. how he turned from nerdy little scientist to badass rebel leader in a space war. and just. idk. there was barely ANY matt screentime and there was so much wasted potential there

and i could keep going. i could have an essay for every single character. but alas i am sooo fucking sleepy so i must cap it here </3

#sigh. they really did every single character so so so so so so so dirty #i literally cant decide who got it worse because they all had it SO BAD. #anyway uh. there may or may not be some slight spoilers for quintenary stars in here. because that rewrite is fixing everything i hate #and much of what i hate is in this post godbless <3 #anyway TY TY i do love rambling about things i hate. i <3 being a hater #voltron #quintenary stars series #xpegasusuniverse

[bramble-scramble]

Music of the Night - Chapter Four

We are SO back! It’s been a while, but @hostess-of-horror​’s Phandrow playlist got me going again! ...Also I wrote half of this on a plane; it was very annoying, but worth doing.

In today’s chapter I bring in another thread of fate, and we learn this is not exclusively a Phandrow story. I expect things to get a good bit more viscerally disturbing next chapter, but as of now it’s just regular old depressing!

Chapter One - In Sleep He Sang to Me

Chapter Two - Do I Dream Again?

Chapter Three - Our Strange Duet

Chapter Four - To Glance Behind

The warden awoke, as was his tendency, with the first light of dawn. He quickly arose, prepared himself, and gathered up a number of things. Then he set off from his house and through the forest, with a pack on his back and swinging a bucket, and his little cloud in tow. His heart filled up with the twin thrills of excitement and terror, not knowing the state in which he would find the patient for whom he had come to care so deeply.

When he finally reached the cabin, he pushed its loose door open with some trepidation. He peered into the dim interior, streaks of sunlight from its windows and its many cracks and holes illuminating the motes of dust that the presence of new inhabitants had stirred up. The huddled, goopy mass still lay on the bed, his half-masked face towards the wall.

"Phantom?" said Woodrow nervously as he stepped inside.

The ghost's ears perked up, and with a slow but steady movement, he turned around to face the newcomer.

"Monsieur Woodrow!" he croaked. Then his visible eye went wide, as he brought his big paws to his mouth. "Voilà, I speak!"

"You- you speak!" echoed the warden, dumbfounded. He rushed over, placed his bucket on the ground, and kneeled near the bedside.

"It is a surprise even to me," said the ghost. His voice was low and creaky, yet the joy in it was unmistakable. "The darkmess must be in remission today."

"Oh, I certainly hope!" said Woodrow, reeling at the sweet sound of his patient's words, beautiful even under their distortion. "And not just today, but forevermore. I have come to help with that, such as I can."

The singer pushed himself into a sitting position. "You already have, sweet and precious poet."

"Well, well," murmured the warden, looking away so as to hide the blush he felt once again. What a helpless fool he must look in the eye of such a known charmer...! He set his pack upon the chair, and reached into it.

"Anyway!" he announced, "I have brought you some books to keep you occupied, in the times when I am gone. Poetry- not mine." He set the volumes down on the bedside table, and noticed then that his own journal was still there. Had Phantom....? Well, he would ask about that later.

"But most importantly," he continued, taking out a small blocky package, covered in parchment. He began unwrapping it, Phantom's ears twitching at the pleasant crinkly noise, and then his nose twitching at the floral scent it began to emit.

"Is that... soap?" he enquired.

"Indeed it is," said the warden. "But no normal soap. This is a precious thing our planetfolk devised, and have been making such as they are able." He held the bar in front of Phantom- it was a an off-white in color, with darker speckles throughout, not too different from a fine vanilla ice cream. "Made from flowers that grow in bright glades, deep in the forest's heart. It's formulated to dissolve darkmess from the skin and fur."

He could see an excitement building on Phantom's face, and quickly continued with a frown. "Alas- it cannot cure one of an illness contracted from prolonged exposure, or ingestion."

The singer's smile faded almost at once. "Ah, I suppose that would be too much to hope." He forced a smile again, and a defeated chuckle. "Besides, I'd have needed to eat soap, anyway. And no one wants that."

Woodrow smiled, but not without sadness. "We are working on further cures, my friend," he assured his patient, touching his paw. "Between our resourceful villagers, and the work of our forest's guardian, it is surely only a matter of time. Hold fast. I shall take care of you 'til that day."

Phantom nodded, and looked into his protector's eyes. He was close enough to see beyond the darkness of his spectacles, and their eyes met, and held.

“I am most fortunate to have fallen into the hands of such a caretaker,” he said. “You are my good luck charm, my portafortuna. May I call you that?”

Something came upon Woodrow that he had not experienced for a long, long time - a full-on laugh.

“What?!” said Phantom. “Do you not like it?”

“It’s lovely,” said Woodrow, suppressing himself after a moment. “It just... took me by surprise, that is all.”

Phantom smiled at him, blinking with false demureness. He knew the poet’s reputation, and he knew well the effect that such a nickname would produce... and he was rather pleased.

"....Now," said Woodrow, leaving the bar of soap on the bedside and standing up with the bucket. "There is a well outside, that was used by this shack's erstwhile resident. I shall bring you back some water. Are you... are you able to wash yourself?"

Phantom opened his mouth, then closed it again with a sly smile, before saying, "And what would happen if I said no?"

Woodrow's ears shot straight up. "Well- well, I did consider the possibility, that if you were weak, or-or unconscious, that - that, if need be, I should- that- that I should do it. Should wash you." He swallowed. "But as you are in better health than I could have hoped..."

"Are you perhaps disappointed?"

"I- I am glad you are well," said Woodrow, at a loss… and his cloud gave a little crackle of thunder- a laugh, thought Phantom, or a callout?

"Well, no matter," said the ghost, grinning. "I'll do what I can, but I may need your help regardless.

In a few minutes Woodrow found himself at the well nearby the hut, so flustered that he could hardly draw water without spilling it. And now his dream of the previous night, which he had nigh forgotten, suddenly came back to him- along with its warm terror and piercing, agonizing bliss. He tried to put it out of his mind and focus on the task at hand, and soon he came back into the cabin, set the bucket at Phantom’s bedside, and produced a few little towels from his pack.

“I shall leave you to it, while I go on a brief inspection of the woods,” said the warden. “I’ll try to return in no more than an hour.” Behind their spectacles, his eyes darted over the figure before him, splotched and speckled with the pestilent slime; and he thought in delight how the next time he saw him, his fine fur would be near untarnished; and then another thought struck him.

“You know, Mr. Phantom- no offense, but your clothes are quite… contaminated. You ought not to put them back on, after you cleanse yourself.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he said. “But, alas, I managed to bring nothing else with me. I have little else to my name at this juncture besides my gramophone and the clothes upon my back. So, well- I suppose there is nothing wrong with going about as most of our kind do, although it is not in my nature- why, it is not even my birthday suit, or my merge-day suit, as it were-”

“Oh!” said Woodrow, who was in such a permanent state of being red at this point that he might as well be a fire Spark, “I- well, indeed, most of us on Palette Prime choose to go clothed, so perhaps I can… find…” he trailed off, looking at his own coat, comparing his noodly frame and long sleeves to Phantom’s own, and knew it would never work.

“Worry not if you can’t,” said the ghost. “It’s a rare rabbid indeed who can trade clothes with my robust and magnificent form.”

“Actually,” the poet continued, “...I believe I know where I can get some clothes that may fit you. I shall go to fetch them, on my inspection of the woods, while you bathe yourself.”

“Really!” said Phantom, rather surprised. “You must grow big on this planet, I suppose. Like the trees.”

“Well, some of us,” said the warden. “And some of us have bigness thrust upon us.” And he left Phantom, somewhat in confusion, to his bucket and washcloth, as he set off once more through the Spellbound Woods.

—

It was quite a long walk, especially with the warden’s naturally slow pace, though he tried to hurry as much as he was able. Along the way, he went through the motions of inspecting the forest, as was his duty… it seemed much unchanged from the day before; trees discolored and barren, darkmess tendrils stretched between trunks and ground like dense cobwebs. Not since the Great Leaf Blight had he seen the forest in such a state, only this time it wasn’t his fault. A small comfort.

The whole thing was distressing, and where he was going filled him just as much with a sense of wrongness. His desperate mind wandered to the small bit of hope and promise onto which it had so tightly latched: the idea of Phantom growing healthy again under his care… today he would be clean, and once they found a way to put a stop to his ever-flowing fount of darkness he would be cured for good. He would grow vibrant and animated and energetic, his lips and ears no longer pallid… maybe they could even get that mask off. Yes, there was hope left in this world. There was someone he could save, even if he hadn’t been able to save….

And suddenly he was at his destination.

Once one of the coziest places in all of Palette Prime, the little house fashioned out of a tree stump now gave off an aura of foreboding. Its windows were boarded, the scaffolding that climbed up from its top was falling apart, and even the creatures of the forest seemed to grow quiet in its presence and give the place a wide berth.

Woodrow sighed and rummaged around in an inner pocket. He found and withdrew a small key; it was he who had ordered the house locked up, after all. He inserted the key into its lock, turned it, and let himself in.

The furniture inside was disheveled, but nothing in the familiar den was missing- other than the most prized axe which once hung on the wall. Puddles of darkmess littered the floor here and there, and Woodrow stepped over them with the practice of one who dodged puddles every day in his own home. Only those were the harmless, blessed water of his own cloud; once thought a curse, now clearly a guardian.

He made his way to the back, into the bedroom. It felt wrong… even in the best of times, he rarely found himself here, in his best friend’s most private space. The quilt on the bed was unkempt, littered with a few leaves that were nigh turning to dust. Half-finished carvings were knocked about on the desk. And against one wall- there. The wardrobe.

Woodrow opened it and peered inside, in the dim light that filtered in between window-boards. He saw what he expected to see: overalls, red checkered flannels… and he hesitated. He could not give those to Phantom; no, not because they would look silly on him, but because… because such was already the distinctive look of someone else. He would look too much like him… it would be disturbing, wrong, upsetting…

And so he pushed the flannels to the side, and at the very rear of the rack, he could make out a few dress shirts. He had seen them worn only once or twice in his friend’s life. Surely said friend would not miss them… Woodrow pulled a dark blue one off its hanger, and a grey one. That ought to do, for now. He didn’t want to take too much; after all-

“WARDEN!” came a voice, high-pitched, yet somehow as mighty as the crack of a falling tree. The poet nearly jumped out of his skin, and he dropped the shirts and turned to see a small figure hovering in the bedroom doorway.

“Oh, D-dryad, it’s- it’s only you-”

“I heard the noise, I saw his door open, and I thought someone had broke in. And now I see that it’s true. What are you DOING here?!” she thundered. Her eyes were like a forest fire, burning with all the colors of autumn.

“I… I was borrowing…”

“You were TAKING from him,” she snarled, and her wilting leaves swayed like a flame.

Woodrow frowned and stepped forward, suddenly determined to fight back for once in his life. “Yes, I was taking things he would not miss, for a good cause. You know that he would always seek to help a creature in need, if he could. And someone needs these clothes more than he does right now.”

The forest spirit still had not calmed down. “Do you think,” she hissed, “that just because you’re the warden, you have the right-”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “I think as his best friend, I have the right. I know what he would want.”

“What he would want has little to do with this, and you know it. And do you think you loved him more than me?! Do you think you do now? Your mind and your eyes and your heart are only for your precious darkmess-seeping singer right now, and you’ll even steal from your best friend because of it. Perhaps it was a mistake- maybe I should call the heroes. On you, as much as your Phantom.”

Woodrow paused, the ability to defend himself draining all at once. “I… am sorry, Dryad,” he said, bending down to pick up the dropped clothing. “I did have my misgivings about this whole endeavor. Perhaps it is more inappropriate than I had realized. Forgive me.”

But Dryad’s ferocity had also died down. Indeed, all the anger had left the room. When Woodrow stood back up, he found her with her face in her tiny paws; and when she lowered them and met his eyes again, she looked more weary than he had ever seen her.

“No,” she said softly, “You are right. It is I who should apologize. I just… coming in here, seeing his things, smelling his scent again… thinking a thief had broken in, and seeing it was YOU of all people… I couldn’t handle it all, for a moment.”

Woodrow draped the shirts on one arm, and reached out to Dryad’s shoulder with his other.

“I’m sorry to have startled you. Had I known you were in the area, I would have consulted you. You loved him as much as I, and you ought to have been asked…”

“But you’re right.” She hook her leafy head. “We’ve been keeping this place locked up, in hopes for the day when he returns to himself. But in the meantime, he’d want to help as many people as he could. That’s what he’d be doing, if he… if he was with us. He would be helping.” 

Woodrow forced his mouth into a smile. “Indeed. And rest assured, when he comes back to himself, I’ll make sure he gets these clothes back. Phantom can fend for himself then.”

“Y-yes,” said Dryad. “When he returns to us. Now, you… return to your beloved.”

With a solemn nod, and barely registering her last word, Woodrow bid her goodbye and hurried out with the clothes. At the front door he turned and looked back, down the hallway into the bedroom. The last he saw of Dryad that day, she was by the wardrobe, holding the sleeve of one of Sweetlopek’s more familiar red shirts, and sobbing into it.

#mario + rabbids #mario plus rabbids #mario rpgs #phandrow #the phantom of the bwahpera #woodrow #ts woodrow #sparks of despair

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Could you write a joker x reader? Reader is an apprentice to the prosthetic guy but doesn’t know he’s using children, reader is just trying to learn from someone well versed and ends up seeing joker a lot and one thing leads to another ? Thank you very much

you're welcome!

fun fact I LOVE THIS OMG <3

When you first joined Noah’s Ark Circus, they all joyfully declared you a third-stringer.

You’re not a performer; far from it. You keep to the tents, mainly the medical tent wherein your mentor works. It’s a place of healing, quiet and out of the spotlight that many of the others seem drawn to.

It doesn’t bother you at all. Doc keeps you busy, even if there’s no one to treat at any given moment. There are other things for you to do, and things that he can teach you. Thank the Lord he took you in and is willing to let you study under him. Already you’ve learned so much.

Reviewing some of the texts he’s left you is one of the few ways you’re able to pass the time while Doc is away. You’re not sure where he is, exactly, but he told you he had to fetch some more supplies from town. What kind of shoppe he went to for such things is beyond you. Maybe he’ll show you someday.

For now, there are no illnesses or injuries, thank goodness, and you’re alone in the medical tent. So you read. You sit and commit things to memory and test yourself.

That’s how you stay, fairly idle, until the tent’s ‘door’ is parted and you hear footsteps in the grass and dirt. Upon looking up, you’re faced with the circus ringleader, JOKER.

To say you’ve had feelings for him since shortly after you met him would be fairly accurate. He’s a handsome man, with sunset-orange hair that reaches past his shoulders and the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen. His smile… it makes your heart melt.

He’s been here in the medical tent pretty frequently ― making visits every couple of days, per Doc’s orders, since he’s got a prosthetic arm. It needs checking up on often, to make sure things are going alright. (Though, if Doc is to be believed, he’s chuckled about having to chase Joker down before, with the man sometimes going a week without having Doc check up. You wonder what’s changed that he’s doing better about that now.)

You won’t complain. You like getting to see him. He always has a new joke for you, and despite that he seems quite shy about letting you examine his prosthetic, you find the technology fascinating. It probably isn’t nearly as much to him… he’s expressed before that he doesn’t like that he’s ‘missing pieces’. You can imagine he’s suffered a lot at the hands of other people’s cruelty because he’s different.

All these people are different. No one is exactly the same. You wish you could find the words to say something like that. You just… don’t know how to go about it without making it sound like you’re dismissing his struggles. Ah, well.

“Afternoon, Joker,” you call as you set your book to the side for now. “How are rehearsals going?”

He uses his prosthetic hand to tip an imaginary hat to you, smile ever present. However, there’s also the distinct look of discomfort on his features. “Afternoon, m’ lovely! Aren’t ye a sight f’r sore eyes. Rehearsals are goin’. Eh, well…”

His other hand is held up so that you can plainly see why he looks to be in pain. A cut across his palm, not especially deep but definitely dripping some blood. “Had a li’l accident. Comes wit’ the territory, I s’pose. Doc ain’t round?”

“Oh, dear! I’d say you had an accident.” Your romantic feelings for him get gently pushed to the side in favor of concern over his wound, and you wave him over toward you. “Doc had to go into town to pick up some things, he said… I offered to go so he wouldn’t have trouble getting around, but he says he likes getting out once in a while. Come here, though, have a seat. I think I can patch you up. What happened?”

He offers a mirthless chuckle, sitting down on the cot next to where you’re studying. “Ah, well, let’s jus’ say I ain’t gonna be takin’ Dagger’s job anytime soon, aye? ‘Parently I don’t know the right end ‘f a knife from the wrong one! Found a point, though, hehe.”

You shake your head. “Still making jokes even when you’re hurt? Tsk, if that doesn’t sound like a man married to his job.”

“Awh, no. I jus’ don’t want ye tae worry, ye knoo?” As soon as you turn toward him with a roll of bandages and a bucket of water, he holds out his hand. “I ‘ad worse than this, so don’t fret, alrigh’?”

You dip a rag in the water, and wring it a bit before reaching to start cleaning the cut on his hand. “No promises. Try not to flinch, okay? Grit your teeth if you have to; this might be a little uncomfortable.”

He does his best, you think. You can practically feel his whole body tense up as you make long, careful strokes down the injury to make sure it gets rinsed as well as you can manage. A hiss of pain even gets sucked through his teeth and you can tell from the look on his face that it isn’t pleasant.

“There we are,” you murmur once you finish that part, resting the rag on the edge of the bucket. “The worst part’s done. It looks like it’s stopped bleeding, since there wasn’t too much that came off while I was cleaning it. I’ll bandage it and let you get back to work. Although,” you add in a teasing tone, “if you wanted an excuse to take a little rest, I’d say you’ve got one.”

He laughs, and thankfully it sounds a little stronger than he seemed while you were cleaning the cut. “By God, I got s’me bad luck, aye? Ain’t enough I’m missin’ a ‘and, I gotta ‘urt the other one. Be useless before long. Bloke wit’out either of his ‘ands ain’t good for much, is he?”

You fall quiet for a minute as you unroll the bandage. You begin to wrap it around his hand, making sure that it’s secure but not overly tight. At the risk of your silence making him think you agree with him, you gingerly run your fingers over his palm after you’ve tied off the bandage with a small knot to keep in place.

“I think you’re good for plenty, Joker.” Even though he goes wide-eyed when you do it, you bring his hand up to your face and press a feather-light kiss to his palm. “That prosthetic Doc gave you allows you to have another hand. And this cut isn’t so bad, even though you should rest it a bit. Honestly, even if you couldn’t use both of your hands, I think you’d still find a way to be amazing.”

His face turns pink, then he lets out a breath of a laugh through his nose. “Maybe y’re the one who needs some medical attention. Got a fever ‘r somethin’? Scramblin’ y’r brains?”

“Oh, please.” You sit down on the cot next to him. “Don’t try to make me laugh. I’m trying to tell you that I have feelings for you.” If only your heart would stop pounding like it’s about to jump out of your chest. “You wouldn’t… happen to have anything to tell me, would you?”

“Ah. Well… no. Nothin’ tae say.” In stark contrast, however, he lets his injured hand curl lightly around your fingers. “… Migh’ ‘ave somethin’ tae do, though.”

With that, he leans forward… and hesitates. He’s so close, you can feel his anxious breath, warm against your lips. He wants it. He’s just too afraid to go for it. You can imagine that other people has beaten him down so thoroughly, the thought that no one who isn’t like him could love him has been engraved onto his heart.

He wants it. He doesn’t think you do. This despite the fact that you’ve just told him you like him. What has the world done to this poor, sweet man?

Well. That’s fine. You’ll just have to engrave something else over his heart, something much kinder.

So you lean forward to meet him halfway, taking his lips against yours. Once you’re there, he’s eager to reciprocate, pressing in against you like he’s been craving for it his whole life.

God, if there were only some way to lock a tent the way you’d lock a bedroom. All you can pray is that Doc doesn’t pick this moment to return.

You feel like perhaps you’ve convinced Joker to take that rest after all, because it’s not long before you’re lying on the cot with him. You’re content to kiss him like this until he feels relaxed enough to go back to the practice tent.

But then you twine your fingers into the bony fingers of his prosthetic, and he shudders like he thinks you’re going to pull away from him. “A-ah, hey…” he mumbles against your lips. “Ye shouldn’t… I mean… ye oughta focus on my good ‘and, darlin’…”

“Hm… but I don’t see a bad hand that you have.” You smile, and kiss him again. Twice as hard this time.

“You’ll have to keep up with your visits here, sweetheart. So I can examine your hand. I’ll need an excuse to hold it, after all.”

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Joker #reader insert #romantic #fluff #hurt/comfort #me sobbing in the background like #one hell of a queue

[van-yangyin]

TW tw: mental breakdown, tw: illness, it's abour our dog (Lea and me), just in case

A month and a few days ago I guess you have seen how I've done practically nothing on this blog, just writing challenges and little else. That's because some time ago Yuka, the puppy of our family (me and @lea-heartscxiv among them) didn't eat any fodder, and started scratching the wall with her mouth. At first we didn't take it as something so serious, in fact we thought it was the fodder, because she did eat the homemade food. But the night of the 6th to the 7th July, during the night she became very immobile and only breathed (although the first thing shouted was that she was dead, which was something quite shocking, before seeing her breathing) so we decided to take her to the vet, first we went to one and she told us that Yuka was anemic, that she ate very little and that lacked red blood cells, she needed a blood transfusion and they referred us to another vet. We went to the other vet and they did the same tests as at the other vet because the information they sent to them was insufficient and poorly done. They did an analysis and an ultrasound, in the analysis they found insufficient red blood cells as in the other vet and in the ultrasound they found that she has a fairly large tumor in the stomach which is what causes anemia, as the tumor causes the vitamins in the food to reject the vitamins provided.

The first operation is very expensive, of the three options we were given from $1600 to $2600 the most expensive (more or less) and it is also the first of many, not counting chemotherapies. It's a hereditary disease, she's 10 years old and her father died when he was 13 years old because of the same thing, so surely it was something that had to happen to her. In the end, much to our regret, we have decided not to operate her, because of the financial issue and because we don't want her to spend the last years of her life with operations and all that entails both physically and psychologically. This week until next week we're administering pills and liquids that protect her stomach so that she can eat again, the problem is that it's decisive that she eats, otherwise we will have to go back to the vet and see what we can do. And just today she doesn't want to eat anything and has vomited the pill along with the food we have given her. We have already had another dog with tumor in the past, in fact she had threetumors and died at the age of 15 without any operation, in fact she died because got lost and her condition when she was found was very weak (I was still a toddler). Although we know that every dog is different, when it has to happen it will happen and in the meantime she will be surrounded by lots of love and lots of cuddles, be it one, two, three, four, five years or whatever.

Lately that's why I haven't had the energy to sit down and start organizing posts of Custom Content to share. I've only been able to draw, write and create half-made custom content that isn't even well done, because of this lack of emotional energy.

I hope you can understand my situation. It's not that I'm leaving everything half done, it's just that my mental energy is only focused on Yuka, just like it's with Lea. We're starting again to publishing but for Costum Content part I don't want to share anything at the moment, because I can't do things in mood I'm in and then later regret what I've shared because I hated the final result.

I'm already starting to process everything that is going on and waiting for this week to see how everything progresses and if Yuka will finally eat or not, and get the energy she's missing. It's so heartbreaking to see how she wouldn't stand still before and now she's not even able to walk down a step from the door to go into the house. All she can do is just lie in the yard. But unlike the other day, now every time we go to her, she gets up and wags her tail, which was very difficult for her the pasts days.

#tw: mental breakdown #tw: illness #it's abour our dog (Lea and me) #non sims #although it's about it at the end #lea-heartscxiv #van-yangyin

[honeybeewhereartthee]

My Darling Dolls AU: Theory of time travel, No place as Home.

< Previous || Table of Content || Next >

Drip

Drop

You were haft asleep but you felt something wet against your skin. You hear whimper and crying as your been held closer to that person holding you. "Sorry. I'm sorry I was out..." You hear familiar voice whimpers.

"I w-wanted to go home but I don't want to alert everyone that something is wrong with you.... You wanted to have the live concert debut to be successful... It's the first time you ask that me something. But I don't know what to do anymore. I don't want to leave you alone to just suddenly felt sick when I realize your being reckless..." You hear him whisper his thoughts.

"... I shouldn't left those two with you." You could hear him held anger but not to the two dolls but probably to his poor decision. He thought that you would be lonely if almost everyone is out being idol, so he let the two haunted dolls souls that you been close those days with you.

He never thought you'll... Do something he feared you'll try when your young. When he first saw you made a doll, he fear being replace but the fear you'll be a dollmaker is far greater.

His memories don't go well with the default things that should be remember by doll in batch but his instinct tell him you being a dollmaker is a bad thing. He doesn't care how many dolls you have! just don't become a doll maker...! But he already scene sign of you experience the aftermath of being a doll maker.

...

[ Do you know if someone is on their life end, their memories of their life would flash on their eyes, and when their close to death doors their soul would leave their body...? What if one would not just watch the memories and interact with memories and live in that time period...? Reliving the time as their soul will possess that time period self...? Won't it be a perfect time travel, mayoi?]

He remembers you saying those words to him years ago, acting strange out of the blue. It was the time he never show his human form in front of you but you seems to know that his a darling doll at that spare moment.

it was in that time where your elementary classmate taken him away from you and pulled his limbs off and stuffing to bully you but when you come to find him, you cried so much in front of him before you pause and start fixing the mess. At that moment your not longer that young innocent child but someone else of different timeline.

Usually fixing minor problem is fine but his state at that time is problematic and needed of a doll maker to fix it. But as if your a doll maker and use to fixing darling dolls you easily fix him yet you felt ill that night.

But you were with your human friend 'kana' even how sick you are, you still escort your friend back home safely before you went on a rampage to the unfortunate kids who taken him that day earlier.

"..." He watch you from the open zipper of your bag as you grab hold of the three kids from the corner of the outside of the arcade and start to beat them up by pressing acupuncture | pressure point on their body making them groan in pain and paralyze in the ground and even unconscious while moaning in pain.

Your eyes looking murderous as you dust yourself and dragging the three back to their respective houses without being spotted. Dumping them to the front gate, you left for another trip. [ I'm such a petty person... ] He heard you say that time as you kiss his doll forehead.

[ I hope mayoi don't think I'm scary because I'm such a petty person... ] Tear fall from your eyes as you waited in the cab to arrive in the last stop of the night. 'i.. I will never think that!' he wanted to say but his too cowardly to speak out because he fear you think his disgusting or weird.

[ Oh right... You still won't answer back... ] You mumble as you chuckle to yourself, the two of you arrive in a mansion. You were sketching something in a paper while doing so. Earlier you borrow the art supply of Kana to do something before you part ways with your friend.

You then told him about a theory of time travel. But never explained why you think that or why you thought of that. You never become interested in time travel as far he knows.

But when you talk to the guard about something about report about certain family being involved with black market and illegal things. You give him the paper your sketching earlier and at that time he saw it's a photo and not a drawing.

'...weren't you just sketching in that paper just now...? How did it become a photo... Wait... Could it be this what they call photorealism...!?' he don't know what to say as you given a 'false' proof but such thing become reality as the head of the family dig in to the matter and it turn out to be the truth.

Under one night a family that hidden their dirt for so long is dragged into the ground because of how petty you are.

The young master of the family come out of his room and saw you.

Enjoying some treat they are serving you since your a great help and your shamelessly talking to the madam.

"How can a sweet child witness something daring like that?" The madam says as she look at you cutely eating the cookies while holding mayoi.

["I dunno. But you made really nice cookies madam!"] You smiled sweetly.

"Oh my... What a cute child!" Like that you manage to get the scary madam on your side.

"... I don't know we have a visitor."

"Oh Madara. Finally you come back. Look at this poor cute child, aren't they cute?" Madara's 'mother' look sternly at her child who just come back from training and Shinkai household.

["Hello~~ mama~"] the madam is looking at Madara isn't able to see you looking at Madara with knowing look.

Madam: "Mama? Why you calling Madara that dear?"

MC:["Cause mama is from MAdara. Ehehe~ 💕 wait...was is it a bad name?"] Crocodile tears about to fall, the madam suddenly felt guilty for questioning an innocent child.

Madam:"No.no it's fine. I'm sure Madara won't mind."

Madara: "Yup~ I won't mind at all~" through he would like to question why your in his house right now.

Mayoi watch the scene in confusion but he don't hear much as when you ask where the bathroom is and Madara escort you, you left him with the madam with a soft kiss on his forehead. ["Be right back~" ]*chuu chuu. Kissing his forehead you left.

when you come back Madara seems to acting along with you. When you went home that night, you were out cold and he have to take care of you in secret. So you would be back in shape in the next day.

His worried but he can never ask what's wrong with you but all he can do is watch as time goes by with you acting odd but when the last day you acting strange. You both watch the night sky full of stars you hugged him whisper goodbye:

[ "I miss your soft plushie form... *Chuu chuu.] You mumble to him. [But I guess it's time to wake up because my mayoi would be dying with worry... ] You hopelessly chuckle.

[I hope mayoi wont fear to appear before me in your beautiful form. Because your not disgusting or ugly. Your my precious mayoi, my family and the one who been with me for so long... My memories start with you, always remember your my number one doll and my precious phantom of the opera... ehehe~] you start to yawn.

"I... Do you know ...?" He don't realize his start speaking to you. He suddenly want to burry himself in a hole because you look at him in his plushie eyes as if looking at his true self. He wanted to run away but you hugged him before he does so. Chuckling as you hug him like his your precious treasure you hold dear to your heart.

[ "The I of this time don't know yet. But I do. Hopefully you won't tell this to my present self. Who won't remember clearly of the event but what I wish to remember. Through memories are just memories, bad memories don't need to be remember, only happy times needed to be remember...] You lay your head to the soft grass, and view the beautiful night sky.

[ *Yawn... I remember now why I get kicked out from the school when they discovered I was involved with those stupid classmate of mine being beaten up... When I just press their pressure point... they are lucky I don't rip their limbs off because of what they did to you.] He could hear anger from your voice.

He can't believe you would be so mad if "I'm just a doll.. I won't feel pain... My disgusting self is aware how I look to other kids..." He utter with full of safe hate. He don't blame the children because he have a weird smile that would probably creep children out.

Only you who able to appreciate his so called Phantom beauty is an odd ball. His precious beloved owner.

He wish you won't dirty your hands just because he was damage. He won't feel pain, it's not the first time either that children did such horrible things.

[ Ahaha. Mayoi is so cute. I think kids are blind. Your the most beautiful doll and person in the world.] You confess. [ I love you very much. ] You added as slowly you slept and return to your normal self.

"Hmm... Oh. Did I slept off...?? Uwuh mayoi~ I have a bad dream! Some nitwit destroyed you and you were gone!" You cried the moment you return to consciousness.

"Mwah mwah my mayoi is safe and sound. Eheh. It's just a bad dream." You stood up and hugged mayoi as well give kisses all over his face and the part that you dream was rip off. and happily went home.

You mumble about your dream, you also dream of his human form. You said he was very beautiful but he still is even in doll form. He listens to your ramble and thinking about your words earlier. You said in your dream mayoi can speak like magic! You want to hear him speak too! Even through that's impossible to happen.

"Do you not... Think of me as ugly ...?" He finally spoke his first words to you for the first time.

"... *Gasp. Mayoi can speak! Uwuaaah my dream come trueee." Your child self was surprised but you hugged him in excitement with no sign of fear whatsoever. "MAYOI IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL!" You says with full honestly as you hug him, sharing your body heat to him, making him feel warm and dizzy with the love he felt.

He felt the endless supply of love you give him all those years went passes the limit many times but all those time he fear to appear before finally give up and before you was mayoi in his human form the same age as you, who hugged you, his very precious human.

"I.. I love you too, mc." He said with red bashful self. Not sure if it's a reply to your words earlier or your endless confession to him since long ago.

"I love you too! Eheh! I'm so happy!" You said smiling like an precious bean who can't do harm to the world. Even so if you did, mayoi careless about it, you could burn the world and your still an angel in his eyes. Your an angel who accepted and give him home.

Through your words about the theory of time travel cross his mind. He wonder what you did to cost you to be in dare situation. Through those thoughts never resurface till years later.

...

succumbing to memories of the past, as tears continue to fall from his eyes, tears his not able to do before as a doll. You reach out to hug him back. "Who bullied mayoi. I'll bully them back. Just tell me their name and address." You jokingly says as you open your eyes.

"Hicc??? M-MC--" surprised but become a blushing mess as he realize you been awake and how close the two you are. "It's not what it look like--" he reasoned out. "What does it supposed to look like, huh Mayoi-san?" He heard one of the twins who is watching the scene since the beginning ask with a cheeky smile. "Yup, you were so close to MC, you don't even notice there's three dolls beside you. Ignoring us like we're wind!" The other cried crocodile tears.

"Phantom is lucky I aren't going to horn you down because we're in front of MC." The mama bison who also watch the scene added with a teasing voice through still held threatening meaning in his words.

"Hicc...!! IMSORRY IM DISGUSTING! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!" with no self esteem and easy to bully mayoi is already on his knees.

"you three are very rude." You pout as you squish the three teasing darling dolls. You pulled mayoi back to the bed and off the floor and he hugged you crying how bad he is for not being there for you. "It's okii. Mayoi is busy." You said as you pat his head, comforting him. Before you return to punishing the three bullies by squishing them playfully.

"Awww. MC really siding with Mayoi-san!"

"How unfair!"

"My child is bullying mama?"

The three tried to find justice of your prejudice.

"Hmmp. Bullying mayoi is off limits." You claim. You went and grab the needle and pin as your still not done with both the twin dolls. "MC!" You hear mayoi cried hopelessly as you finally finish the doll. Through you don't feel draw back at that time. "Done." You look proudly at your work and pat mayoi who's crying again.

"*Chuu *chuu *chuu. Good morning Yuuta, good morning Hinata and good morning Madara. Love you three very much." You says with a bright smile. They then transform back to their human form.

"Yey were human again!"

" Yosh! Let's cause some mischief!" The twins clap their hand together happy to finally able to be human after a long period of time.

They look one another with great prank they have in mind to commence to the oblivious people in the house.

Like that time when they spike the cake. It was so funny' they both giggle to themselves. "Oh my..." Madara who saw the mischievous gaze of the two darling dolls twin pranksters can't help but sigh but he remembers your words and look at you in wonders: does that mean you don't hate him anymore?

"Mayoi stop crying. I'm not gonna die lol I'm a bad child. I will not die because only good people die young." You comforted mayoi who want to throw your sewing kit away from you.

"B-but-- being doll maker is bad for you!" He cried as he dodge you attempt of trying to get the tools of yours. He have a height and you don't. So trying to use it in advantage. your hopeless against him.

"Oh yeah, yuuta kun~ shall we hide away MC sewing material as our first prank?"

"Oho? That's a good plan aniki! Let's do that!" The twins went and help mayoi and gotten the sewing materials and run off the room to who knows where with your tool, leaving with you the two.

"Sigh, that was expensive set ok." You mumble with a smile.

"Anyway time to eat breakfast!" Holding the hands of the two who look at you with eyes widen. You held their hand and pulled them to the dining table where everyone is awaiting for you.

Introducing the twins as haunted dolls and you as the one who made the doll body they now posses don't come without a shock but seeing how your not worried about it made them remember that, you really are too obsessed with dolls not caring if their haunted or not.

Making them sigh in unison. The meal never been that enjoyable as the whole group is full again after a long time of being away from one another. There's no place as home after all.

A/N: 👀 what do you guys think of the theory of time travel? Hopefully it answer some questions about the last chapter. And yes if you notice base on the past memories in the point of view of mayoi. It happened again. 👀 But what would cost that? 😱 What recklessness will you do again?

Find out next time in dragon ball z-- (get slapped)!! Anyway here's an art of mayoi ùwú. I'll make tarot card like for others too. But next time. Sorry for no update for a while. Was busy with my 20 days challenge lol.

PS: just Comment or PM if you wanna be added in the tag list.

TAG LIST : @allimili @valeriele3

#ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars #enstar x reader #enstar #mayoi Ayase x reader #yuuta aoi x reader #hinata aoi x reader #Madara Mikejima x reader #my Darling Dolls AU #my Darling Doll AU #mayoi Ayase #madara mikejima #Hinata aoi #yuuta aoi #my art #-> bee art