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obxsummer · 1 year

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Lifetime Without You // JJ Maybank

pairing: platonic!pogues x maybank!reader

summary: it's been nine years since you've set foot on the beaches of the obx. you're excited for this new chapter, but first, you have to tell your brother jj that you're back. needless to say, he's not happy.

request: Separated forcefully or for reasons you can't control, run into each other again years later on accident. With jjs sister? Maybe their mom took her when she left and they meet again?

warnings: angst, violence, mentions of abuse, death/cancer

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The warm sun on your skin did more to calm your nerves than you expected. For the first time in nine years, you were back in the place you called home. OBX looked the same for the most part -- only a few differences and missing stores you could tell from the first glance. Figure Eight had definitely expanded and that you weren’t surprised about in the slightest.

It was bittersweet to be back here. The change had been rough and you never thought you’d step foot back here this fast, but life did throw you a curveball every now and then. Part of you didn’t expect to even see JJ here, having no idea if he even still would be here. You just knew you couldn’t stay in California any longer.

Nine years ago, when your mom finally reached her breaking point with your dad, she didn’t hesitate to grab you and leave behind the life you were living. You just remembered being nine years old, watching your brother get left behind in a way that hurt your heart so bad you cried for a week straight every day. Your mom tried to convince you that he would be fine, that the house would get better without the two of you there but you couldn’t fully believe her.

Years went past, you grew up and went to high school out in a small town in California. Your life in Outer Banks almost didn’t exist. You’d pushed away so much of the bad, that it was weird to think about what you had here. That is until your mom had been diagnosed with cancer when you turned fourteen. You had just hit the point of being able to reach out to JJ yourself, holding on to the bit of hope that maybe you could get him out of there. Your mom needed you though, and you couldn’t bail on her. So you stayed through it all and held her hand goodbye when it came to it. Grieving was hard, and you still didn’t think you’d seen the end of it in the past six months since her passing.

Your mom did everything she could to support you, collecting up a good amount of savings in the hopes you would go to college. You had work of your own, doing enough to help where you could. She had lucked out on a wealthy boyfriend-turned-fiancé leaving behind his earnings to her. Like you said before, curveballs.

You had a good foundation beneath you, but you couldn’t stay here with the memories she had left. Packing and choosing a condo in Outer Banks probably wasn’t on the list of wishes she had for you, but you had to go home. You had to see what you left behind before moving on.

Unpacking took a little motivation but you had most items shipped to avoid dealing with renting a moving truck. It would take a while to get everything exactly how you liked it but you just really wanted to get as settled in as possible so you could cruise the island for a bit. It felt weird to be back here, especially when all you could think about is how everything was when you left so many years ago.

The drive to the grocery store felt weird, especially when you realized you’d never driven these roads by yourself. You’d always had your mom in the car when you were younger, rarely ever your dad but still. Hopes were high that you could get in and out of the grocery without seeing anyone who would possibly recognize you.

Your wish was almost granted as you piled food into your cart with no end goal in mind on what to really get. The cashier greeted you kindly and made your checkout process smooth and before you knew it, you were loading everything into the trunk of your car.

“Y/N? Y/N Maybank, is that you?” You bit your lip at the voice and turned around to meet the gaze of none other than Rafe Cameron staring you down. Growing up, Rafe had been a pain in your ass but your dad always reassured you that guys were mean when they liked a girl. You, however, refused to put up with that outdated bullshit and gave the Cameron boy a piece of your mind before you left.

“Rafe, hi.” You offered him a tightknit smile as you shoved your last bag into the car. Out of everyone you could’ve run into, he wasn’t the worst one. You just hoped he didn’t make a scene out of it.

The blond boy had definitely grown up and was surrounded by two other people. You recognized one as Topper and the other you were unfamiliar with. Rafe blinked at the sight of you. “Wow, um. How-How are you? I haven’t seen you in-”

“Nine years?” You answered for him with a small laugh. “Yeah. It’s been a while but evidently, I can’t get away from here for too long.”

Rafe nodded. “Damn. Well, we’re having a party tonight at my place if you want to come. Catch up with everyone. It’s probably nothing like those West Coast parties you’re used to but hey, nothing beats an OBX showdown.”

You considered it for a moment, not sure if that was truly how you wanted to spend one of your first nights back but offered him a shrug. “Sure, I’ll think about it. Nice to see you guys!”

After putting your cart away, you climbed behind the wheel of the new Jeep that had once belonged to your mom. Letting out a deep sigh, your forehead pressed against the palms of your hands.

You really hoped Rafe didn’t see JJ before you did.

Unpacking the groceries was easy and soon enough, you had a semi-stable home surrounding you for the time being. There were still a few knickknack things that needed organized but those could wait until a different day.

If you were being honest, you were nervous about this so-called ‘party’ you’d been invited to. On the bright side, it gave you a chance to unwind and act your age for once. Taking care of your mom had been hard and you’d been forced to grow up a lot sooner than you would’ve liked. On the other hand, you could risk fucking up whatever relationship was left with JJ if he didn’t want to see you.

Deciding just to go for it, you forced yourself to get ready. You debated for a while before settling that a pair of jeans and a tank top would be suitable enough. You quickly fixed your hair and makeup before starting the small walk to where you knew the Cameron house was.

The music was already cranking when you arrived at the end of the driveway. Taking a deep breath, you walked the remaining distance to the backyard where it seemed all the people were crowding. Your eyes landed on the various coolers lining the side of the house. You grabbed a drink for yourself before wandering into the mass of people. Rafe was right, parties in Cali were usually a lot bigger, but for the most part, this was normal to you.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” Rafe’s voice was suddenly behind you, breaking your train of thought. “Listen, your Pogue brother’s over there somewhere but-”

“JJ’s here?” You cut him off with wide eyes. Suddenly, you were too sober to see your brother for the first time in almost a decade.

Rafe laughed at the concern on your face, “Yeah, yeah. But hey, listen, I got some friends I want you to meet first, okay?”

You nodded, letting him pull you along throughout the party. You’d reconnected with Topper and met their friend Kelce who you had seen in the parking lot earlier. Rafe swore the OBX had only gotten better since you’d left, but looking at the white powdery substance on the table in front of you and the glazed look in his eyes, you were starting to doubt him.

Excusing yourself to find another drink, you shuffled your way through the crowd that had definitely grown since you first arrived. You reached in to grab another drink when someone bumped into you.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t even-”

Your head snapped up at the familiar voice. “John B?”

The boy in front of you was definitely not a kid anymore. You gaped at his newfound height as he towered you by a good few inches. The bandana around his neck was new, same with his fluffy, curly hair that used to be short. He’d definitely filled out his form as he grew, making you wonder what your brother looked like.

“Holy shit. Y/N?” John B’s face was the definition of surprise as he stared back at you. As you all had grown up, you’d found each other on social media but nothing looked the same as standing in front of each other years later.

“Hi!” Your smile was infectious as you wrapped him in a tight hug. You were thankful to see a familiar face amongst the strangers you’d been surrounded by.

John B pulled back a moment later. “Does JJ know you’re here?”

You didn’t have a chance to answer before yelling interrupted from across the yard. You shared a glance with John B before the two of you took off running. You never forgot the trouble your brother would get himself into as a kid. Part of you hoped he would grow out of it as he got older, but you also had no idea what he dealt with after you left.

Following John B around everyone, your eyes caught sight of a group arguing. Rafe was somehow at the forefront and shoved someone’s chest before punches started getting thrown. John B must’ve seen something you didn’t and rushed towards the altercation without a second thought.

Hovering on the outside of the crowd, you watched as John B managed to grab someone from the fight and practically push them out of the way before Rafe let out a loud laugh. To your shock, he turned to find you in the crowd and pointed your way. “See Y/N! This is all you have to look forward to with your brother! Starting fights he can’t finish and always running his damn mouth.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you moved forward when Rafe took a jump again at the person in front of him. Pushing people aside, you managed to get in between the two before they started fighting. You shoved Rafe’s chest aggressively to get him out of the way so you could actually figure out what the hell was going on. Turning around, your gaze landed on the specific person you’d been looking for, yet the same person you’d been trying to avoid the whole night.

JJ stared back at you, his lip cut and face swelling by the second, but it was still him. It was still the boy you left all those years ago with tears in your eyes as your mom dragged you out to the car. You couldn’t gauge his reaction very well, couldn’t tell if he was pissed you were in front of him or if he was glad to see you.

You tuned out Rafe’s taunting behind you, suddenly well aware of how many people were watching your small family reunion. You snapped out of it when JJ took off out of the mini-circle that had formed.

“JJ!” You followed quickly behind him but he didn’t slow his pace and continued to run away from whatever had just happened. You stopped short, knowing damn well you couldn’t keep up with him and clearly, he didn’t want to see you.

John B was close behind you. “Y/N, hey.” You turned around to see the group that had followed him. Pope and Kie had grown so much, the sight of them almost overwhelming as you took in the people who you’d once been so close to.

“Oh, my God!” Kie practically burst into excitement and lunged forward to hug you tightly. You let out a relieved sigh, glad that someone was happy to see you.

Pope hugged you next, height towering over you the same way John B’s did. You didn’t even know where to start with them, let alone what you were going to say to JJ when you had a chance to talk to him.

“When did you get back?” Pope asked when he stepped back. The four of you moved further away from the party, all fun moods killed by JJ storming off.

“Yesterday,” You said as you followed them along the path to the beach. “I didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t know if it was a good idea. And now, I’m realizing it wasn’t.”

“JJ will get over it. He probably just needs some space.” Kiara gave a dismissive wave before turning to you with expecting eyes. “I, however, need to know where you’re staying.”

You shrugged. “We can go there if you want. It’s just up here.” The three of them followed along and made mindless conversation, asking you about your drive and your time in California. You managed to dodge all conversation relating to your mom, promising you’d explain everything after you talked to JJ. He deserved to hear it first, especially after you bombarded him at the party.

Walking into your new place, you watched the trio explore with wide eyes. Kie clearly had her share of this life, John B and Pope not so much. You were more than grateful for what you had at your hands, but you’d been through hell to get here.

You spent the remainder of the night catching up with the three Pogues who reassured you that JJ wanted space. You definitely hadn’t expected the pain they had been through; Kie’s Kook year, Big John going missing, the constant harassment from Rafe and other Kooks.

Once the early hours of the morning hit, you offered for them to stay but they agreed on heading back to the Chateau in hopes that JJ would be there and they could try to talk to him some. After giving each of them a hug, you locked your door and made your way to your bed in hopes that you could get some sleep and hopefully, get everything back on track with JJ in the morning.

Part of you wished you would’ve just chased JJ down last night so you didn’t have to deal with the situation in front of you. You weren’t 100% sure why you’d bother to come here, but after not seeing JJ this morning and Kiara saying he left them sometime early, you weren’t sure where else to look. The deck wood creaked under your feet before you pulled the screen door open and emersed yourself in the life your father and brother had been living since you left.

Your dad’s beaten truck was in the driveway alongside a dirt bike that you figured was JJ’s. The mess of discarded alcohol, leftover drugs on the table, and various old prescription bottles lingered on the once spotless outdoor patio set that your mom had bought. Your heart hurt as you realized how worn your childhood home was.

You crouched down to grab one of the orange containers to read the label. The medicine wasn’t familiar to you, but the lack of your dad’s name on it told you everything you needed to know. This is exactly what you wished never happened when your mom said she was leaving. You loved her dearly, but leaving JJ here was something you’d never forgive her for.

Suddenly, the front door slammed open as someone made their way out on the porch. You jerked up in surprise only to come face to face with the man that you called a father. He looked horrible, much worse than when you packed up and left. You could only guess his life went downhill from there and he never bothered to try and be anything better.

“Can I help you with something since you already invited yourself in?”

You had to admit, you weren’t surprised that he didn’t recognize you, but part of you had hoped he would. You liked to think you looked like your mom in some ways - ways that he would happily remember. “Hi, Dad.”

The name seemed to freeze him in his spot as he stared at you. You didn’t know what to expect. He could easily kick you off his property without a second thought. After a moment of processing, he broke into a laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned. Come give your old man a hug, Y/N.”

You stood there semi-awkwardly as he pulled you into a tight embrace. You could practically smell the alcohol dripping off him and his ratty t-shirt.

“I never thought your mom would let you back here,” Luke laughed and stepped back to make himself comfortable on the couch, popping a beer in the process. “How is she by the way?”

“Is JJ here?” You ignored his question and tried to get to the whole point of why you came here.

The scoff that came out of his mouth had you glaring without a second thought. “He’s in his room, pouting like a bitch!” He made sure to annunciate the last word loud enough that JJ could definitely hear him walls away. “Feel free.”

Accepting his dismissive wave as enough of an invitation, you pulled open the door and made your way into the disaster of a house. Shattered picture frames lined the floor, misplaced clothes strewn next to them. You didn’t dare look at the kitchen for fear of what might be growing in it from the lack of upkeep you’d seen so far.

Your feet guided you toward the door that had always led to your brother’s room. You convinced yourself that talking everything out would help, but now that you were standing here, it all seemed much harder.

“What?” JJ’s voice was full of pure annoyance once you knocked. You waited a moment before opening it to reveal his room just as you had remembered it. Granted, the posters had changed over the years, but it was still the same to you.

“Hi,” Was all you could muster up to say once you made eye contact with him.

He moved quickly to yank you into his room and shut the door behind you. “Are you crazy? Why the hell would you come here?”

You shrugged in defense. “I-I didn’t know where else to find you. Kiara said you weren’t with them and-”

“Kie?” He repeated the girl’s name as he glared at you. “You saw my friends?”

“Yes, JJ! When you stormed off last night and left-”

“Why the hell are you here?!”

The question was asked with such veracity you were stunned into silence. You gaped at him, shocked that he was being so hostile to you after all these years. It wasn’t like you had a choice in leaving with your mom.

“JJ, I just want to talk.” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you let out a breath. “I have so much to tell you, a-and I haven’t seen you in so long. I know things are different but…”

JJ was silent for a moment as he stared at you. There were so many emotions in his mind, so many things he wanted to say to you, but he couldn’t help the feeling of agony that was deep in his chest. For so long, he’d envied you. He was full of rage, pain, and anger that you got to leave the Outer Banks for life with your mom. It hurt more than he ever let on, more than he ever told the Pogues.

“Please get out.”

The request made your heart sink as you looked back at him, tears on your cheeks now. “JJ, please.” You refused to believe after everything, the one person you were holding out for wanted nothing to do with you.

He shook his head. “Not here, not now. Not with him listening.” His voice quieted as he nudged his hand toward the general direction of where your father was sitting. “I’ll find you later and we can talk, okay?”

You brushed the tears from your cheeks and nodded. It wasn’t worth arguing over why he didn’t just come with you at that moment. Turning on your heel, you walked from his room before stopping short to face him again.

“JJ.” He looked up at you in confusion. “For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry.”

You didn’t hear anything for hours, opting to finish unpacking the rest of your belongings in hopes that it would take your mind off everything. Your dad had characteristically passed out by the time you’d left the house earlier that day. You had no interest in patching a relationship with him, especially based on what you’d seen.

You had just finished ordering some pizza for dinner, too exhausted to try and attempt to cook something, when the doorbell rang. You knew damn well your food wasn’t here that quickly.

JJ stood on the other side of it, looking positively exhausted. You stepped aside wordlessly to let him in, figuring he got your address from one of his friends on his way since you didn’t tell him. He was quiet as he observed the main floor of your new home, taking in the cleanliness and organization.

“I have pizza coming… do you-do you want some water or something to drink?”

His expression didn’t shift as he nodded to your question. You wondered if this was the new JJ - the quiet, reserved individual in your living room right now. You were inclined to doubt it, especially with the way Kiara, John B, and Pope had been talking last night.

“Is Mom dead?"

The question sucked all the air from your lungs, your new glassware threatening to slip from your fingers as it filled with water. You hesitated for a moment before turning to face him.

JJ was already looking at you, your reaction telling him everything as he nodded slightly. “I knew you wouldn’t come back here by yourself if she was still in California.”

“I came back because I wanted to start a new chapter here, hopefully with you,” You admitted as you handed the glass of water to him. “We owe ourselves that much, JJ. To start fresh without the pain of our parents and childhood lingering on us.”

Your brother was quiet as he swirled the water around, his mind still on the question he had asked. “Were you with her when it happened?”

“For every second,” You whispered as tears burned your eyes as you recounted the endless nights and painful days. “I wanted to tell you but she said it wasn’t right to drop it on you.”

JJ nodded solemnly, for once not fighting on a decision that was made on his behalf. It didn’t hurt any less, though; grieving the loss of someone you loved deeply yet barely knew. The two of you had grown up so different in the recent half of your lives.

“Does Dad still…” You didn’t have the guts to finish the question, hoping your question would be declined.

Your heart shattered when JJ nodded. “Got worse once you guys left, the drinking and… everything else.” He took a deep breath. “I usually stay at John B’s. Rarely go back unless I absolutely have to.”

“You can stay here. With me.” You weren’t really asking, but rather speaking it into existence. You refused to let your brother wonder where he belonged in the OBX any longer. Even if he hated you, having him in a safe environment would make you feel endlessly better.

The doorbell ringing interrupted whatever JJ was going to say if he was going to say anything. You moved to the front door to pay the delivery person and collect your food, thanking them graciously before placing it on the granite countertops. You grabbed two freshly cleaned plates, handing one to JJ before selecting your choice of pizza and appetizer. JJ grabbed his own before following you to the couch to sit.

“She was diagnosed with leukemia six years ago. Her fiancé, Michael had passed away two years prior. Richest man I’ve ever met, the best man I have ever met,” You let out a small laugh at the memory. “He was great. You would’ve loved him. They loved each other. Anyway, treatment was going well and suddenly it stopped working. Everything got worse, really fast. I was balancing school, a job, and being there for her, until one day… it all just stopped and she was gone. I graduated by myself, packed everything up, sold her house, and moved here.

“She loved you, more than you probably know. We talked about you all the time. I tried so hard to convince her to come back, to send you a plane ticket to get you out to Cali with us. I think she was scared of facing a situation she partially created, you know? Begged her to at least let me fly out. That was instantly shot down. But, the world works in weird ways and here we are.”

JJ watched you carefully, munching on his pizza as he did. He never noticed how exhausted you looked - like the weight of the world had been on your shoulders for years. It probably had been, he said to himself.

“I know me coming back is probably a storm in your usual forecast,” You continued, “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. So I figured just randomly showing up would give me an idea. Guess not.” You finished up your slice of pizza and set the empty plate on the ottoman.

“I’m sorry for being so shitty,” JJ blurted. He wasn’t sure what else to say.

You shook your head at him. “It’s okay, promise. I don’t blame you. I was extremely overwhelming.”

The two of you sat in a comforting quiet for a few moments as JJ finished up his food. He couldn’t lie, this was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. Sure, he loved the Pogues and they’d always be his number one, but to have you back was a game-changer. It shifted everything he’d known since you had been taken to California all those years ago.

“If the offer to stay here is still on the table, I’d really like to take it.”

Maybe things were looking up for both of you after all.

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#outer banks #outer banks x reader #obx x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #outer banks x you #jj maybank x sister!reader #jj maybank #kiara carrera #john b routledge #pope heyward #pogues x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #maybank!reader imagines #maybank!reader

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courtforshort15 · 1 year

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Chapter 5

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem Reader

Word Count: 6,200

Summary: It's a Wednesday when the sky quite literally opens up above you. The Battle of New York rages around you, and the only thing that gets you through is the stranger standing next to you. Matthew Murdock is more than he seems, keeping you safe in a city that is literally crumbling around you, and even once the dust settles, his hand is the only thing you don't want to let go of.

Trigger warning: None really, just some references to violence

Chapter Index

Thank you to @hellskitchens-whore, @lazyxsquirrel, @pokemonandcatsmostly, @infinityisbright, and @dorothleah for some of the ideas💜

When you were younger, still in the hormone-infused chaos they called high-school, your mother was diagnosed with cancer.

You spent countless hours by her side, accompanying her to chemo sessions after class, skipping school to take care of her when your father couldn't quite get away from work, staying up far too late to finish homework because your mother had a strict routine of meds and care she needed before she fell asleep. You rearranged your entire life to help her, and not once did you regret a single second.

And through every appointment, through every bad day your mother had, you stayed by her side and kept hope alive, naïve but exceedingly helpless as she wilted away in front of you, doing your best to ignore the rings around her eyes and gray hue that settled underneath her skin.

Her death hit you hard, in ways you were still trying to process, every day adding a brick to the foundation you’ve been trying to build back up since she left. Months of praying and taking care of her blew up in your face, all your hard work and missed classes tossed down a drain as she took her last breaths. You were there when she passed, her perpetually cold, dry hand in yours, your heart begging her to stay while your mouth told her it was okay for her to rest, desperate to give her a sense of peace in her final moments, even as you shattered from the inside out.

You'd spent so much time hoping for a better outcome, selfish in your prayers to keep her with you, a naïve sense of achievement every time she finished a chemo round with a smile on her face. You know now that those smiles had been solely for you, solely for your comfort, and that she hid her pain from you as long as she could, fully aware that she was not going to live to see you go to your senior prom or graduate from high school.

Years later, the agony still hits you, still festers inside of you, lying in wait to remind you that life could be cruel and unforgiving. You hadn't been prepared for your mother's death, even though you had months to accept the possibility, and though you’ve tried to to push it away, sometimes it still feels like you're back there with her, holding her hand as she slowly fades away.

The betrayal of your hope and prayers had left you feeling hollow, left you feeling bitter, the pain sharp and acidic.

And while the shadowed pain of the past has little to do with whatever mess is currently feeding on the streets of New York City, finding the collapsed entrance to the subway station offers a similar feeling of betrayal and helplessness in the face of your dwindling chances of survival.

"Fuck," Matt swears as the entrance comes into your view, somehow aware of the situation before you can open your mouth to tell him . He runs over to the staircase that has all but disappeared in a pile of rubble, the brick and stone from a semi-collapsed building effectively sealing the entrance shut. A rock goes flying across the street, angrily kicked into the air by a dress shoe that has obviously seen better days. The man growls under his breath, shoulders stiff and face twisted in a snarl you’ve yet to see. He stands off to the side, and you watch as his hands clench in fists as he raises them to rest on his hips.

It claws at your throat, this surge of powerlessness, and you can do nothing more than bend over and place your hands on your knees, panting with adrenaline as it courses through your system, the feeling of barbed wire scraping along the walls of every vein. The adrenaline has been helpful thus far, pushing you despite the ache in various parts of your body, but now it chokes you, your lungs trying and almost failing to drag air in as you stare at the haven that’s simultaneously right before you and somehow still out of your reach.

Your torn hands reach up and pull at your hair, head tilting upwards as panic threatens to spill tears down your face.

"We need–we need a new game plan," you tell him quietly once you've regained a semblance of composure, taking in the form of the man that stands a few feet away from you, his frame simultaneously defeated and agitated. You walk over to him on shaky legs, avoiding the stone that litters the sidewalk, and grab the hand that's resting on his hip as he tilts his head downward and continues to frown harshly at the cement he can’t see. At your touch, he snaps his head back up, and just like that, determination settles back on his face, and the expression helps you steel your nerves. “Let’s…let's get away from the street.”

He gives a sharp nod, the motion almost mechanical, and without a word of protest, he lets you pull him quickly into the nearest alley that sits halfway down the block. It won’t offer a ton of shelter, the buildings are only a few stories on either side, but it’s worth the effort of movement if it means keeping you just slightly safer and out of view than being so close to the street. The jog is a short one, and your shoes clack loudly on the concrete with every step, but the sound barely registers over the noise of the city. Once you're deep enough into the alley, you drop his hand and lean against the brick.

Matt stands on the opposite side of the alley as you, lithe and broad-shouldered, and lets his body fall back into it, resting against the brick wall of the building with a heavy groan. He crosses his arms over his chest and twists his face into a glare of frustration. A crash sounds from a few blocks away, and you can’t help but flinch even as you keep your eyes trained on him.

“So what do we want to do?” you ask, cutting to the chase, knowing a decision needs to be made, and fast. You watch as his head lulls against the wall behind him. “Either we find somewhere to stay inside–”

“No.”

“--or we find a new subway station, if that’s the route we want to go. I think there’s one around here somewhere, but I’m not exactly sure where. I do know that there’s one off of 57th, though.”

“That’s six blocks from here,” he quickly objects with a subtle shake of his head, still frowning. “Would you be able to make it there in those shoes?”

Your chin lifts up, the motion somewhat defensive. “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

Matt stands up straighter, something about your tone pulling him out of his head. “Of course,” he immediately agrees. “I didn’t mean—I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. Six blocks is normally nothing, but now we’re literally walking through a war zone. Things are bound to catch us off guard.”

“Right,” you mumble, because honestly, the shoes are a concern, and you can’t fault him for worrying about it. “But I’ll make it work, so don’t worry about me. Like I said, I’m not exactly sure where the nearest station is, and I don’t think wandering around looking for it is the best move. Do you?”

“No, you’re right,” he responds with a nod of his head. A brief ray of sunshine lights the alley, peeking out from the heavy dust and smoke littering the air of the city, and you catch a quick glimpse of the red tone that exists throughout his dark hair. “Normally I’d have a better idea of where one is based on…,” he inhales sharply, seemingly thinking about something before shaking his head abruptly and continuing, “based on the sounds and vibrations of the subways underneath the streets, but they’ve–they’ve stopped running.”

“You can hear the subways underneath the street?” you ask incredulously. Your eyes widen drastically as you take in the new piece of information. Hearing something coming from a few blocks away was one thing, but hearing through layers of concrete and asphalt was completely different.

How on Earth…?

The look on his face is slightly pained, as if he can’t decide if he should have told you or not, but he pushes forward anyway, the information already out there and not something he can retract. “Yes,” he says slowly, hesitantly, and again you get the feeling that he’s just given you a key or hint to whatever puzzle exists inside his mind. “But it’s not helpful right now. Not if they’re not running.”

“Jesus,” you say with a loud exhale, eyes still wide as you consider the way his body seems to be somehow defensive, as if nervous of what you’ll think and already pushing you away. “That’s amazing, and I–and I am interested in hearing more, but…it’s definitely not the right moment.”

“Not at all.” The grimace has shifted into a wry grin.

“Great.” Your agreement is swift, acknowledging the quick awkwardness that had settled and washed away within the span of a quick second, before lifting yourself up from where you’re leaning against the scratchy brick wall. “You said after all this, so I’ll bombard you with questions after.”

“Yes. After.”

The confirmation sends a quick thrill down your spine, but you do your best to ignore it.

You don’t let the silence drift on, still needing to fill the space with a desperate plan for survival. “Anyway,” you begin as you begin pacing up and down the alley, just a few steps in each direction, “the station is off of 57th. I think it’s six blocks up and two blocks east, but hopefully getting further away from Stark Tower works in our favor. I don’t–-I wish I knew where the other ones are, but I think this might just be our best bet. We’ll just…have to make it work, I guess.”

Matt takes a deep breath, chest rising and falling as he considers the idea. His hands return to his hips, a position you’ve noticed he takes frequently when he’s thinking, the color of his shirt dirty beyond redemption. Your left hand throbs underneath the tie he had given you, the color a molted blue and black that’s been soaked with red.

Somehow, he’s able to track the way your left hand clenches slightly, and you wonder if he has a way to sense your grimace, too. “How’s the hand?”

“Sore,” you tell him honestly because there’s really no reason to hide the discomfort. “Throbbing, actually. Feels like it’s still bleeding.”

Matt winces. “It is.”

“Great,” you respond weakly, sucking in a breath, not bothering to question how he knows. You cradle your hand to your chest and glance down at it with a frown. “That’s…great. How’s the head?”

“I’ll live,” he says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, carefully avoiding the side that’s been cut. The motion still appears to be agitated, but the look on his face no longer seems so severe, and it puts you more at ease. “‘Tis but a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

You can’t help the choked laugh that bursts out. “Did you–did you just quote Monty Python?”

For just a brief moment, something so fleeting you’re not sure if you saw it right, a wicked smile slides across his face. It’s gone before you’re able to capture the image in your head, but it was there.

“You’re just a sarcastic little shit, aren’t you?” you ask rhetorically with a shake of your head, unable to hide the amusement despite the situation. “In the middle of a goddamn alien invasion and you’re cracking jokes.”

Matt gives a simple shrug of his shoulders, another small grin lighting his face before it changes into something more serious, head shifting slightly so that his left ear is more firmly aimed in the direction of the alley’s entrance. With a quiet and pronounced exhale, you turn your attention back to the matter at hand, letting go of the quick moment where Matt’s wicked smile had briefly distracted you from the city that reeked with terror.

As if on cue, a sound of a loud explosion soars across the buildings in midtown, and though it’s too far to feel the heat of the flames that have erupted, you immediately see the plume of smoke that begins drifting into the sky. It’s enough to draw the fear back in and under your skin.

“Right,” you say after a moment, clearing your throat loudly and stepping towards the entrance of the alley way. The thought of being open and on the street still makes you nervous, it has since you left the bookstore, but it’s not really something that can be helped at this point. “Are you ready?”

“Is this the part where you ask me to come with you if I want to live?”

“Jesus, Matt.”

“I’m starting to think that’s your standard response to things that scare or surprise you.”

There’s a strangled noise that starts in your throat and hisses out between your teeth as you swing your head to look at where he's standing just a few feet behind you. “I don’t—”

“As a Catholic, I feel like I should be offended,” he tells you with a quick upturn of his mouth as he steps up to your side. “But I suppose I’ll let it slide.”

You stare at him in surprise, unsure of where the attitude had suddenly come in. “How…gracious of you,” is all you can think of to say, mouth still gaping slightly. You’re fairly positive he’s joking, his sense of humor dry and sarcastic, but you’re still unsure. “I think we should…” Your voice trails off, and before you can start your train of thought again, there’s a large flash of light and the distant sound of roaring thunder.

Jaw hanging open, you look up, eyes aimed far above the surrounding skyscrapers as what appears to be multiple flashes of lightning strike across a sky that’s darkened suddenly. It startles you, the image unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, multiple bolts streaking up towards the gaping hole in the sky. The things pouring from the open wound in the atmosphere are only stalled slightly, a few disappearing back into the hole, but nothing seems to change or ultimately slow their entrance into the space above New York.

The source of the lightning seems to be a building far off in the distance, because there’s no way it’s been caused by a storm, but it’s too far away and too far out of sight for you to tell exactly where it’s coming from. It rocks you to your core, the event yet another reminder that what’s happening is completely out of your control, just a helpless citizen forced to react to a situation that you never would have thought was possible in a million years.

“What the hell?” you whisper, body frozen and eyes wide. While you had been staring up, Matt had appeared directly behind you, and you find yourself leaning slightly into him, your back to his chest, one of his hands on your hip as if in effort to keep you still and upright. You’re grateful for the support, feeling slightly woozy from the sight and a racing mind trying to make sense of it all.

“Was that lightning?” Matt asks incredulously, the voice in your ear rough and sounding increasingly alarmed. “I didn’t hear a storm come in, but I felt the electricity. I don’t understand.”

“There isn’t a storm,” you respond in confirmation. The small motion of you shaking your head brushes lightly against the man standing behind you, the sound of your hair sliding against the suit jacket miniscule. “The sky got slightly darker, but there aren’t even any clouds out right now.”

Matt shifts so that he comes to stand at your side instead, though his hand on your hip doesn’t entirely disappear. “It’s so fucking bizarre,” he says as tilts his head upwards, facing a sky that’s under such chaos you’re unsure how it’ll ever seem normal again. “Everything about this is so…”

“Yeah,” you whisper in quiet agreement, because even without the words being said explicitly, you know what he’s trying to say. Your eyes drift back down, grimacing again at the scene of the street and the subway entrance that’s been all but erased by fallen concrete. “We probably should–”

Matt’s face turns from puzzlement into something grim, the weight of the next stage of the journey sliding back into the front of his mind. “Right.”

“Is it safe to leave?”

He cocks his head and frowns in concentration, the image of his intense focus making you shiver slightly, curious about what it would feel like to have his complete laser-like focus on you instead. But before you think on it further, he nods. “It’s safe. Let’s go.”

You find yourself trailing behind him again, though this time he stays closer, and the pace the two of you keep is similar to the first time. Fast enough that the journey shouldn’t take too long should no interruptions come, but not so fast that you’re at a huge risk for falling. You’re relatively clumsy by nature, unfortunately, and while you’ve mastered the art of walking leisurely in heels, this faster pace is much more difficult. He’s still there to help you regain your balance should you stumble, and you’ve long since stopped flushing every time you do, simply clutching at his forearms briefly before continuing to move forward.

There’s no room for heated cheeks in the end of the world, especially for a man who can’t see them anyway.

Every street corner you step off of, every block you walk through, looks exactly the same as the ones stretching out behind you. Scorched concrete and compounded cars, shattered windows and crumbling brick, devoid of life with the exception of the two of you. At one point, you swear you see a few faces looking down at you from the third floor of a brownstone, but Matt pulls you along swiftly enough that you flash your eyes back down to watch each step you take carefully, if only to keep you from tripping.

Each step you take seems to burn more and more, even while the overall movements blend together in your journey to the subway station. The two of you stay as close to the sides of the buildings as possible, if for nothing more than to be able to duck into a shop’s entrance should you need to. You’ve been keeping track of the street signs for obvious reasons, each green sign both taunting and encouraging you on, white lettering telling you you’re close while also reminding you just how far away you are.

Something crashes into a building somewhere blocks behind you, but you hardly have time to react or process the sound. Your mind is still focused on your feet, still focused on the fact that you’re halfway between 54th and 55th and therefore only two blocks away from the station, when Matt lurches to a complete stop for the second time today.

This time you’re unable to dip around him, having only been half a step behind him, and you crash straight into his back. His body doesn’t move an inch under the force alone, the collision of your body abrupt though otherwise unharmful. His form is seemingly glued and frozen to the ground, but he does shift slightly to help steady you. He lets go abruptly, hands falling limply to his sides, head turned to something across the street.

You move so that you’re in front of him, eyes drifting over his face in confusion. Just like before, his skin has lost most of its color, his black rectangular lenses and the blood on the side of his face a sharp, almost unwelcome contrast. His lips part as he takes in a deep breath, one that seems entirely too shaky for your liking.

“Matt?” you ask quietly, knowing he’ll hear the near whisper even above the sounds of the city. “What’s wrong? Do you hear something?”

He doesn’t answer your question, merely blurting out one of his own. “The building across the street. What–what does it look like?”

“What?”

“The building,” he repeats, the sound dry and in the beginning stages of something that’s bordering panic. “Is it—tell me what it looks like.”

Frowning, you turn so that you’re facing the street, even as you grab his hand and pull him closer to the building behind you, wanting to keep as close to the brick as possible and out of the way of something flying by. You’ve entered a block that seems to be made up of small shops and buildings that are only a few stories high, different from the towering office buildings that exist just a little further away. It’s an interesting little section of Hell’s Kitchen, seeming older than other parts of the neighborhood, but it’s no more or no less shaken up by the events of today.

Your eyes land on the building that sits directly across from you, taking in the fading paint and the cracked window. Eyeing the door that looks run down and its rusted hinges, you briefly think about what it might have looked like in its youth. It’s certainly nothing impressive as it is, and you wonder why it's caught his attention so suddenly, even if he’s unable to see it.

Your eyes drift back to Matt’s face. “You mean Fogwell’s?”

He nods, and the motion is so stiff, it’s almost like the muscles in his neck have lost the flexibility to move.

“I mean…it’s old,” you say honestly, turning your face back to the building, utterly bewildered at the conversation. “Could use some paint, but–”

“No, I mean…is it damaged? Still there, mostly intact? Or is it–” he asks, licking his lips, hands shaking at his side, his words rushed and seemingly difficult to force out, if the halting speech is anything to go by. Your mouth parts into an oh as you realize what he had been needing from you. “I can’t–I can’t be sure, and–”

“It’s fine, Matt,” you say gently, hating the look of panic that’s been crossing over his face, the expression pretty foreign on the man who has been practically dragging you to safety, spine made of steel and frame made of immovable stone. “There’s a crack in the window, and it looks like maybe a few bricks were knocked loose, but it’s there. Still standing.”

You’re unprepared for the way his body seems to sag in relief, and you let out a startled yelp as you wrap an arm around his shoulders. You push him into the wall you’ve been standing next to, hoping the brick will at least help you in your effort to keep him from tilting over. He lets the outside of the building keep him up, as you’d been hoping, resting his body weight against it and breathing harshly as his head tilts forward, mouth open as he takes in a gasping breath.

Shifting so that you’re standing in front of him rather than off to the side, you step as close as possible without plastering yourself to him, hands bracing against his shoulders should he tip forward. It’s like the fight has temporarily drained out of his body, nothing left but torn ligaments and bone, a heavy frame without muscle to keep it standing.

A shaky hand comes up to your side, fingers ghosting over the fabric, before he’s got the silk of your blouse wrapped in his hand. The warmth of his palm by your hip is almost startling, because while it continues to be a bright and warm spring day, nothing will ever compare to the heat of someone else’s skin pressed against yours, even from over the fabric of your shirt.

“You okay?” you ask after a moment, your eyes trailing over his face as his head shifts so that it’s now resting against the wall behind him. He nods in answer, tongue once again running itself over his bottom lip briefly. “Do you need a few moments?”

Matt shakes his head slowly, and you don’t miss the way his hand further tightens around the fabric at your side. “We should keep moving.”

“Sure,” you agree quietly. “But if you need a minute to just…we can stay for a few, Matt. We can just slide a few feet to the left, there’s an awning we can hang under to keep us out of sight.”

The man in front of you doesn’t move an inch, other than to take a deep, shuddering breath. Making an executive decision, you pull away slightly, moving your arms down from his shoulders to his upper arms to help pull him with you as you slide the three feet between open sky and the dark green awning.

He pants, though certainly not from physical exertion, and it makes you feel like whatever battle he’s fighting, or whatever he’s running from, solely exists in his mind, some sort of festering wound that’s been triggered by the block you’ve been walking down. You have a history of panic attacks, a history of your mind and body freezing to the point where no rational thought or movement can get out, so you’re well aware of what one feels like. You’re not necessarily used to seeing them on others, though, so it takes you a moment to figure out what’s going on.

The man has managed to keep himself together far better than you have since everything started, offering his hand and pulling you along like it had become his sole focus in life to keep you safe. You aren’t quite sure how to handle someone’s undivided attention, often shying away from the spotlight and those who might get too close, but even with all the chaos going on around you, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s taken your life in his hand, as if getting you through this is just as important to him as his own fate.

His shoulders have hardly wavered since you met him, and you’re not entirely surprised that something has finally managed to knock him over, even if only for a few minutes.

You’ve seen his anger and frustration and sadness, but you haven’t yet seen him mirror the same level of panic on his face that you know has been on yours the entire time. And while now certainly isn’t the best time to have a breakdown, exposed and on the sidewalk with nothing but cloth covering your heads, you don’t feel like it would be fair to ignore his panic when he has done nothing but try to soothe yours. He deserves every little piece of care and consideration he’s given you, and you want nothing more than to give it to him, regardless of how inconvenient.

Reaching up, mind resolved, you brush a lock of dark hair off of his forehead, careful to avoid the small gash that hasn’t yet stopped bleeding completely. “Hey,” you say, trying to draw his attention to you, but you can tell easily it doesn’t really work. His head stays tilted down, mouth parted, as his hand shakes lightly at your hip. “Matt. Matt.”

He shakes his head, and through the dark lenses of his glasses, you can see his eyes darting around wildly.

“Matt,” you try again as your hand trails down the side of his face. His skin is suddenly cool to the touch despite the heat outside, and you can’t help the way your eyes widen slightly in alarm. “The building is fine.”

“You–you promise?” His voice sounds so broken, so child-like, that it unsettles you.

“I promise.” You slide a finger under his chin to raise it up, but the movement must startle him because he jerks his face to the side with a gasp.

Unwilling to cause him any further distress, you bring your hand back down to his shoulder, hoping the pressure will both keep him standing while also grounding him. You’ve been through this before, a thousand different thoughts and fears racing through your mind, and sometimes the things that have brought you back are the most subtle ones. Wind on your face, a certain cloth or texture beneath your fingertips, really anything and everything to center your focus back to the present and out of your head.

Matt gradually pulls himself back together, and while in any other setting you may have wanted to give him more time to process, you know time is of the essence, so you don’t question or argue against his need to snap back. Whatever control he’s displayed since you met him creeps back into his features, but there’s a level of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before, one you get the impression he hasn’t shared with many others.

“You ok?” you ask quietly, watching as he slides back into himself more and more by the second, the panic slowly receding from his face and his breathing evening out.

“I’m…fine,” he responds, his voice barely a whisper before he clears his throat. “I’m good.”

You can’t help the way your hand reaches back up to brush a piece of hair back, noting with satisfaction the way his skin has regained some of its heat and color. He doesn’t shift away from the movement, so you allow your hand to linger for a second before falling back down.

You’re all too aware of how long panic can stick around, long after the physical symptoms have left, and you’re one hundred percent sure that whatever had just happened, whatever had left him so panicked, has a long history rooted somewhere inside his head.

“The building…does it mean something to you?”

The man nods reluctantly as he swallows. His head lifts so that it rests against the brick behind him, dark hair clashing with the red that’s been covered in a sheen of dust. “I…we should really get going, it’s not important.”

As if trying to prove his point about the building’s lack of value, he abruptly tries to push you back, ready to continue on with the trek up to 57th. The movement is gentle, despite its apparent urgency, but you press your hands back into his shoulders when he shifts to push off of the brick. Interestingly enough, he doesn’t really fight against you, simply allowing himself to fall back, as if he’s still struggling to regain some strength.

“Seems to me that might be pretty important, though.”

The face he gives you is extremely pained, mouth twisted into a frown that looks like he’s almost pleading with you not to say anything more. But when you don’t move from in front of him, he all but wilts again with a sigh. “I used to spend a lot of time there,” he says quietly after a few moments of hesitation. “It was important to me, important to my dad. I’d hate for it to just be…gone.”

The pain of losing a parent is something you can relate to, and the sad tilt of your mouth relays the ache you feel inside, though it’s an image no one is around to see. It’s been years since you last saw your mother smile, last heard her voice, and the loss is something a person never really heals from, despite the amount of time that’s passed.

You know exactly why the potential loss of this building hit him the way it did.

“It’s one of the last things you have of him.”

“...yeah.”

You twist your head to look back over your shoulder, eyeing the fading paint and the brick that has certainly seen better days. The building is in unassuming, almost an eyesore compared to the newer buildings on either side, but there’s a certain charm to it, despite the way its been run down by the decades it’s likely been there.

“I…with everything going on, I somehow skipped that we were going to run right by it,” Matt whispers, and you turn your head back around just in time for him to slide a hand down his face as he sighs in some sort of acceptance. “I’m glad to know it’s okay.”

You’re quiet for a moment before you open your mouth to respond. “When this is over, I’ll come back with you,” you tell him softly. You’re not quite sure what makes you offer it, nor are you sure why your hand lifts to his shoulder to rest gently on his cheek, but you refuse to resist both impulses. “When it’s all over, we’ll come back and I’ll describe every single brick for you.”

He stills.

Matt has barely moved since he collapsed against the wall in relief, just the slow instances of tangling his hand in your shirt and half-heartedly trying to continue the journey north, but somehow, this halting of movement is much more pronounced.

It seems like he isn’t breathing, the rise and fall of his chest stumbling to a stop, his eyes motionless and not flitting blindly over the street behind you. It’s dramatic, the stillness of his body, and it immediately makes you feel like you’ve overstepped.

You begin pulling back, eyes wide. “Sorry, we don’t have–”

“Yes.” The word is said so quietly, especially with the sounds of destruction and chaos in the background, but you feel like you hear all three letters said individually. “Yes. I’d…want that.”

“You’re…sure?”

“Yes,” he repeats, and you can’t describe how the brief moment of elation floods through you, because what is there to be elated about while the city that homes over a million people is destroyed around you? But it doesn’t stop you from having that moment, that one beautiful moment, or joy. He’s not saying yes to coming back here, or at least that’s not all he’s saying yes to.

In some weird, twisted way, you get the impression that maybe he's saying yes to…you.

In what capacity, you're not sure, but the idea is out there in the open, now. It's not the right time to talk about it, not while it feels like New York is crumbling all around you, but it doesn't stop the savage uptick in your heart.

“Okay,” you say, clearing your throat and ruining the moment intentionally because you know it’s time to continue the movement to 57th. You’ve only a few blocks to go, but they still feel like an entire lifetime away. “We should get going. Are you ready?”

He nods his head, hands suddenly settling on both your hips and pushing you backwards gently as he completely lifts himself off of the brick. Once he’s up, he still doesn’t increase the distance between you, so you’re left staring up at him slightly as he settles back to his full height.

Eyes trailing over the fact that’s slightly covered with dust and blood, you take a step back, watching as he rolls his neck. Something about his posture indicates that he’s ready to go, so you turn on your heel and start walking, knowing he’ll catch up and soon pass you. Before you can even make it three feet, Matt suddenly yanks you back, and with a surprised cry, you fall into him.

“Matt–”

“There’s someone in there,” is all he says as he steadies you, his head facing the buildings on the other side of the street, lips parted in confusion before settling in a hard line. “I can hear their heartbeat, they’re–they’re hurt.”

“Hear their heartbeat–”

And then Matt, who has hardly left your side since this all began, pushes you back against the wall and bolts across the street with nothing more than a “Stay there!” shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back!”

Stunned, you stare at his back as he makes his way around the abandoned cars and random bricks and concrete that’s been thrown onto the asphalt.

Heartbeat?

He can hear a heartbeat?

You’re frozen for just a few seconds longer, mind twisting this way and that, trying to take in, trying to understand this new tidbit of information he’s given you. But you don’t think there’s a way to even begin understanding what he’s said, not without a proper explanation on his end, so you rapidly shove it to the side.

“It’s…not the weirdest thing that’s happened today,” you say under your breath, and, as if on cue, a sudden ball of fire soars through the sky from a goddamn flying alien proves your point. The ground shudders and a not-so-distant building rumbles, the sound telling you that it’s just one or two fireballs away from crashing to the ground altogether.

The thought of being in or near a building when something falls is terrifying, the memory resurfacing of diving under the sink while the bookstore groaned around you, protected by nothing more than a slab of concrete and a hand covering your head. But the idea of not being at Matt’s side, the thought of going through any of this without him, is more terrifying, and so before he has even made it to the entrance of the Fogwell’s, you’re following behind him.

#matt murdock #Daredevil #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x fem reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #battle of new york

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chubby-kiyo · 4 months

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Okay. Time to do Goodbye Despair edition of appearance headcanons

Teruteru Hanamura - (He/Him Hyper pan sexual) I don’t actually hate his design, he looks like the plump chef decorations everyone had in their kitchen in the 90s. He has thick hair and uses a ridiculous amount of pomade and hairspray to style it. (How he doesn’t catch on fire doing flambé is beyond me)

Ultimate Imposter - (They/Them intersex pansexual) They have to hide all of their natural features as part of their talent, but I feel like they probably have a somewhat feminine build. Due to their weight, they can pass more easily as any gender without being questioned (and maybe with some shape wear to help seal the deal) and this is pretty gender affirming for them.

Mahiru Koizumi - (She/They, Lesbian) She is midsized with a small tummy pooch and kind of pear shaped. Her freckles extend to her shoulders and back, and she has somewhat crooked teeth, but in kind of an endearing way. Has a small nose ring.

Peko Pekoyama - (She/Her, grey asexual) Slim and muscular with very little curvature, not that she needs a big pair of jugs to slow her down. She has really long thin fingers, and 9 times out of ten they are ice cold. She also has several scars from weapons training.

Ibuki Mioda - (They/She, pansexual) Built like a board. Just no hips or chest to spare, but they prefer a more androgynous style anyway, as is popular in the scene. Always has raccoon eyes, and will rub or picked at her face, smearing them in the process. Septum and tongue piercings and stretched lobes. Also has light acne scars.

Hiyoko Saonji - (She/Her, Lesbian) Looks like she’s 12. Her hair is very reactive to humidity and she is prone to turning into a poodle if it gets wet. Has a sizable front tooth gap, which only serves to make her look more childish.

Mikan Tsumiki - (She/Her, bisexual-female pref) She is plus sized and has wider hips, which she bumps into stuff with all the time. She has a round face and a button nose, which are always rosy pink, because of how often she is crying. Just chronically puffy eyes.

Gundam Tanaka - (They/Them, pansexual) They are kind of average/slim and don’t have much in the way of muscle. There’s just not as much under those robes as you might expect. Wears corpse paint and other trad goth makeup often but hates going out without at least using a light/white foundation. Black lipstick is a must for special occasions, and they always carry at least one lint roller to maintain their perfect black clothes with the hammies. Has a septum piercing and stretched lobes.

Nekomaru Nidai-(He/Him, Bisexual, female pref) Obviously built like a Greek god. Is very particular about his manscaping, and you bet your ass his fades are always on point. His hands are so fucking huge and blocky that it’s almost comical to see him holding someone else’s hand. His chest is hairy, and he has eyebrow and nipple piercings.

Nagito Komaeda - (He/They, gay) The man is dying of cancer. He is deathly pale and skinny. If he wasn’t a wacko, any sane person would be concerned for him. His hair is dry and coarse, in an over processed bleach kind of way. Has dark circles and yellowing teeth. Somehow though, he still manages to have a smooth, soft baby face and unnaturally clear skin. Is lacking in the eyebrow department, but has white double lashes on Satoru Gojo’s level.

Chiaki Nanami - (She/Her, pan) She is chubby. Like not just on the cusp of plus size, but a few sizes deep. Has stretch marks on her hips, chest, and stomach. Pale skin and puffy eyes from poor sleeping habits. American girl doll teeth and frizzy hair from falling asleep on random surfaces.

Kazuichi Souda (He/They, bisexual female pref) Has a bit of pudge from eating processed junk all the time, but doesn’t seem to mind. He had braces as a kid, so his teeth are perfectly straight and really the only tight laced thing about the guy. Has shaved sides and hates washing his hair, so he uses the beanie to cover up the greasy bits and his little black roots when they grow out. Breaks out easily, and has some acne scars. Pierced nostrils, tongue, and stretched ears.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu - (He/Him FtM, ace spec?) Kind of scrawny and will just never be tall. Freckles on his shoulders and back. Has a tiny amount of peach fuzz over his top lip and is really hoping it will start to fill in. Blonde eyebrows that are barely visible to begin with, that he still insists on shaving slits into. Pierced ears.

Sonia Nevermind - (She/Her, pansexual) Petite all around. Dainty little hands and the softest skin. Very fine hair, and like Fuyuhiko, she is a bit lacking in eyebrow definition, but she has to fill them in. Has a small upturned nose and definitely does the princess peach lip thing.

Akane Owari - (She/Her, pansexual) Muscular and thick all over. As much as she definitely has abs, having them visibly defined is generally speaking, not healthy for most women, so they’re under a smooth soft tummy. She has a wider button nose and full lips that she would love to put gloss on if it didn’t interfere with her snacking. Has somewhat crooked teeth and her hair is consistently tangled.

Hajime Hinata - (He/Him, pansexual) Buff arms. All around pretty stocky but not fat. Stubby thick hands. Tans easily and has the worst farmers’ tan from his stupid polo shirt. Gets freckles across his nose when he’s in the sun a lot. He has bushy eyebrows that could use some attention and thick lips.

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tg-pilled · 2 months

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Tokyo Ghoul Characters as MCR songs

This is for shits and giggles, please don't take this too serious. I originally wanted to cover Every album and compare Every song to a character from each album and then realized nobody cares that deeply so here is a brief version!

Kaneki - Famous Last Words - "Can you see my eyes are shining bright? 'Cause I'm out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror and I'm so weak. Is it hard understanding, I'm incomplete?"

Haise - AMBULANCE - "And we will wear our masks again, out after dark, 'cause we are up for everything it takes, and we are not the same."

Ginshi - Cancer - "But counting down the days to go, it just ain't living, and I just hope you know that if you say goodbye today, I'd ask you to be true because the hardest part of this is leaving you."

Urie - Sleep - "Don't you breathe for me, undeserving of your sympathy, 'cause there ain't no way I'm sorry for what I did."

Mutsuki - DESTROYA - "With duct-tape scars on my honey, they don't like who you are. You won't like where we'll go, brother, protect me now."

Saiko - The Kids from Yesterday - "All the cameras watch the accidents and stars you hate. They only care if you can bleed. Does the television make you feel the pills you ate or every person that you need to be?"

Arima - The Foundations of Decay - "Let the flesh submit itself to gravity. Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame. Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain. Now if your convictions were a passing phase, may your ashes feed the river in the morning rays. And as the vermin crawls we lay in the foundations of decay."

Hide - The World is Ugly - "These are their hearts, but their hearts don't beat like ours. They burn 'cause they are all afraid. But mine beats twice as hard, 'cause the world is ugly, but you're beautiful to me."

Touka - The Ghost of You - "At the top of my lungs in my arms she dies, she dies. At the end of the world, or the last thing I see, you are never coming home."

Hinami - Cemetary Drive - "If you want, I'll keep on crying. Did you get what you deserve? Is this what you always want me for? I miss you."

Ayato - Thank You for the Venom - "I keep a gun in the book you gave me. Hallelujah, lock and load. Black is the kiss, the touch of the serpent son."

Nishiki - The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You - "Gaze into her killing jar, I'd sometimes stare for hours. She even poked the holes so I can breathe."

Eto - Give 'Em Hell Kid - "Some might say we are made from the sharpest things you say. We are young and we don't care. Your dreams and your hopeless hair. We never wanted it to be this way for all our lives."

Naki - The Only Hope for Me is You - "Because you're the only hope for me. And if we can't find where we belong, we'll have to make it on our own."

Takizawa - House of Wolves - "Tell me I'm an angel, take this to my grave. Tell me I'm a bad man, kick me like a stray."

Tsukiyama - Romance - There's no lyrics but the vibe is *chefs kiss*

Uta - I Never Told You What I Do for a Living - "It ain't the money and it sure as hell ain't just for the fame, it's for the bodies I claim and lose. Only go so far 'til you bury them so deep and down we go, down."

Renji - Headfirst for Halos - "And as the fragments of my skull begin to fall, fall on your tongue like pixie dust, just think happy thoughts, and we'll fly home."

Juuzou - Mama - "Well, mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue. You should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son."

Rize - Our Lady of Sorrows - "We could be perfect lovers one last night, and die like star-crossed lovers when we fight."

Akira - Skylines and Turnstiles - "We walk in single file. We light our rails and punch our time. Ride escalators colder than a cell. The broken city-sky, like butane on my skin, stolen from my eyes."

Amon - Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back - "For all of us who've seen the light, salute the dead and lead the fight. Who gives a damn if we lose the war? Let the walls come down, let the engines roar."

Feel free to add your own interpretations but these are songs that I think relate to the characters! :)

#tokyo ghoul #mcr #tgre #tg kaneki #tg:re

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rita · 1 year

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Want a Break from the Ads? by @rita (parisol on substack, rita on tumblr); Data Center upgrade to occur Saturday, May 18 and Sunday, May 19; "Coquilles", Hannibal; Richard Siken on his poem Real Estate; From Detroit Public Library Annual Report 1984-85; @porchbirds on central emotions of poets; @rita on writing about gore; How to see the Green Comet C/2022 E3 (ZTF) in the sky; Large, Deep Antarctic Ozone Hole in 2020; Melanoma skin cancer rates in 2020; Woman reading a newpaper; Hypotheticals by @rita; “Let Every Pansy Bloom” banner at the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day pride parade. June 25, 1978; Poem in Noisy Mouthfuls by Chen Chen; When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities by Chen Chen; Cell diagrams; About Ocean Vuong on Poetry Foundation

#txt #mine #webweaving #is this weird of me to do ? maybe. whatever #ok to rb #gore #edit: i removed one of the images. please reblog this version instead!

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ireton · 1 year

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DISCLAIMER: Please do your own research and come to your own conclusions.

When you tell someone a medicine for dogs cured your cancer, you better be ready for some skeptics, but Joe Tippens says it saved his life, and the lives of others.

Now, even cancer researchers are open to the possibility it might be true."My stomach, my neck, my liver, my pancreas, my bladder, my bones -- it was everywhere," Tippens said. Tippens said he was told to go home, call hospice and say his goodbyes two years ago. The doctors were unanimous, he was going to die of small cell lung cancer.

"Once that kind of cancer goes that far afield, the odds of survival are less than 1 percent, and median life expectancy is three months," Tippens said. Tippens said he went from 220 pounds to 110. "I was a skeleton with skin hanging off of it," he said. "It was difficult."

But that was January of 2017. Today, Tippens is very much alive and what he credits for his survival has doctors scratching their heads, and the rest of us raising eyebrows. "About half the people think I'm just crazy," he said. "And about half the people want to know more and dig deeper."

Tippens said he received a tip from a veterinarian, of all people. And in his desperation, he turned from people medicine to dog medicine. Specifically, something you give your dog when it has worms. "The truth is stranger than fiction, you know?" Tippens said, laughing. Just three months later, Tippens says, his cancer was gone.

"I'm usually skeptical, and I was and maybe still am about this one," said Stephen Prescott, president of the Oklahoma Medical Research Foundation. "But there's interesting background to this." Cancer researchers like Prescott are skeptical, but they also are not dismissing this anti-parasitic's potential. He says Tippens is not the first person to potentially benefit, and not the last.

"Scientists and many credible places have done work on this for years," Prescott said. But was it the de-wormer, or was it something else? Tippens took the dog medicine with daily vitamin E supplements and CBD oil. He was also taking an experimental cancer-fighting drug. But Tippens says out of the 1,100 patients on that clinical trial, he was the only one cleared of cancer.

Tippens says he was saved by the dog de-wormer and he plans to take it for the rest of his life. "My insurance company spent $1.2 million on me with traditional means before I switched to a $5 a week medicine that actually saved me," he said. Prescott says he's now working with Tippens to organize a case study.

"We're going to do it and see if we can confirm, in a very rigorous and clinical sort of way, that these patients had that kind of response," Prescott said. As for Tippens: "I've got over 40 success stories other than me," he said. He's sharing his story on an online blog that has been read more than 100,000 times. Most of the feedback is positive, or curious.

Some accuse Tippens of giving cancer patients false hope. "Oh, how do I answer that?" he sighed. "I mean, if I've saved one other person other than me, it's worth it to me." All we know for sure is that Tippens is alive. In time, perhaps we'll also know if this medicine made for man's best friend might also be man's newest cancer cure.

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astrologichole · 2 years

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The signs and what they look for in a partner

Aries: wants a partner that is willing to balance out their sometimes-lack-of-containment side, someone who appreciates the amount of effort they put into their partner, wants a partner who can match their understanding for life yet challenge their core understandings, someone who wants to adventure with them

Taurus: wants a partner who will be gentle and caring with them, someone who will understand when they need a moment to think things over before impulsively continuing a conversation or argument, someone who wants to be in their company often, a partner who doesn’t try to change them or challenge what they believe in or like in life, someone who spoils them

Gemini: wants a partner who truly loves them for better or worse, a partner who can engage them in intellectual conversation, someone who can make them feel comfortable in their own skin, a partner who is honest and doesn’t try to hide how they feel or avoid difficult conversations, a partner they can be critical of without it being a detriment to their relationship (not overly sensitive)

Cancer: wants a partner who can truly be their backbone and be sensitive to their feelings, a partner who sees their worldliness and understands that they are sometimes troubled but ultimately incredibly loving, a partner who values the finer things in life and knows how to slow down and enjoy the moment, a partner who is in it for the long run and enjoys quality time together above anything else

Leo: wants a partner who is patient and understanding that they aren’t perfect, a partner who can enjoy a fast paced life but especially values the slow intimate moments when they’re alone together, someone who isn’t afraid to speak their mind and stay true to their convictions, someone who is willing to help them achieve what they set out to do and won’t interrupt their grind

Virgo: wants a partner who prioritizes life and takes life seriously but still knows how to have fun, a partner who is complicated and engaging, not just someone who is either/or but the whole package, a partner who can really understand when they’re struggling since they themselves don’t always know how to say that they are, someone who is creative yet practical and can get shit done when needed

Libra: wants a partner who just gets them, someone that knows what they’re thinking naturally and can interpret some of the more ambiguous things they say or think, a partner who is considerate and is a natural communicator, someone who gives back to them as much as they do their partner, someone who values art and sophistication

Scorpio: wants a partner who is as crazy as they are, a partner who can distinguish and understand their emotions as they are rapidly changing, someone who understands that their nature is very push and pull but they ultimately want you to want them, someone open with their emotions and isn’t afraid to be vulnerable, someone who understands their intimacy as art

Sagittarius: wants a partner who loves to live life to the fullest, a partner who can keep up with their constantly changing pace of life, someone who can equally enjoy periods of isolation where it’s just the two of them, a partner who is open and honest even if their partner thinks it might hurt their feelings, a partner who trusts them and comes to them for help or guidance as their nature is often to be sincere and upfront

Capricorn: wants a partner that doesn’t need constant validation and can simply pick up on their needs and wants with little affirmation, a partner who is serious about life and goes at it with vigor, someone who truly feels like a foundation for them as they often struggle to feel content with someone for life, someone they can trust is dedicated to them and trusts them fully

Aquarius: wants a partner that will validate and affirm their feelings, a partner who is chill and doesn’t mind taking life a little slower, a partner who doesn’t push them to be someone they’re not, someone who is non-conforming and really stands out amongst a crowd, someone who doesn’t need to change for them, someone who they feel really wants to be with them and values their personality and uniqueness

Pisces: wants a partner that is sensitive and nurturing, a partner who validates them and reminds them often that they are loved, someone who really listens to their emotions and tries their best to understand them, a partner who cares about others as much as they do, someone who is super affectionate and romantic, a partner who is curious about the world and is knowledgeable in more ways than just intellectually

#aquarius #aries #astrology #cancer #capricorn #gemini #leo #libra #pisces #sagittarius #scorpio #taurus #virgo #zodiac

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narutodivorcearcreal · 2 months

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Fight clubbers ranked by me based on how much i like them. very long.

1. Fem narrator - cuter than regular narrator (to me she looks the same except for the obvious). coworkers think shes a “mildly effete teenage boy” (via jacksprostate). she has acne from the copius amounts of foundation needed to cover her fight club bruises. she has a virgin mary complex (fears spontaneous pregnancy despite not having sex). she has a collection of 37831 kitchenwares because she doesn’t make enough money to buy furniture as a hobby, and despite this she eats mustard for dinner. if she ever had a pregnancy scare she would kill herself immediately. her morning routine is weighing herself and riding her exercise bike religiously. she’s sooo afraid of becoming a parent or married or pregnant. she has penetration anxiety. what’s not to love.

2. Fem Tyler - Looks exactly like tyler with crazier sideburns and boobs. doesnt have sex with marlon not because shes lesbian (shes not real idk i dont consider her or tyler to have any specific sexuality) but because narrators fear of pregnancy and penetration is so deep it extends to her. likes narrator more than m tyler likes m narrator but still throughly sick of her shit by the end. To me shes a coyote but she would LARP as a hyena. kind of wants to kill marlon but they’re still besties. worst boyfriend ever. Also shes very hot to me sorry.

3. Regular Narrator - The Guy of all time. truly a fascinating specimen. many many things deeply wrong with him. he took all his issues and made them into one guy. he is inertia personified. i think if he doenst kill himself post canon and survives until 2009 he has a blank grindr account where he scrolls through all the guys in the area without actually messaging any of them. but he probably is dead by then.

4. Regular Marla - I love her so dearly. Her in the book and narrator was so cute… so sad they cut out a lot of their closer moments in the movie. Idk she wants him to shove sleeping pills up his ass girl best friends forever objectively… and her calling narrator in the psych ward.. Her madonna-whore complex towards herself where she can only see herself as a human shitstain when she’s so tender… she lets tyler hurt her and she keeps coming back when narrators an asshole… she asks narrator to check her for cancer and tries to keep him awake and watches him kill a person and shes still there. what can i say it makes me ill. And she’s going to die young… everything about her is so tragic. She wants someone to love her……..

5. Male Marla/Marlon - tfw your best/only friend who semierotically puts out cigarettes on you was actually a split personality. when he’s walking with narrator through the gardens he assumes she got on meds or something because she doenst look like she wants to skin him alive anymore. as project mayhem grows he has to perform increasingly complex maneuvers to get to paper street house and narrator without getting his balls cut off.

6. Regular Tyler - “i could fix him” except “him” was also tyler and he could not, in fact, fix him. tried to get narrator to make impactful decisions and change but narrator imprinted on him like a baby duck and became totally dependent on tyler. like the idea that tyler is alive post canon but pretends to be dead because he’s so sick of narrator’s shit.

7. My fight club OC Brandon Pitchard - never actually joined fight club. tries to hook up with narrator in a gay bar september 9th 2001 and gets punched in the face. Buddhist.

#fight club #f fight club #fem fight club

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barbielore · 2 months

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February 4th is World Cancer day so I wanted to take a moment to briefly acknowledge this. As I have posted about before last October, Barbie has a history with the subject of cancer as her creator Ruth Handler was herself a survivor. As a result it is no surprise that Barbie has had tie-in dolls with the Susan G Komen foundation.

Also worth noting is that Mattel has an ongoing collaboration with CureSearch, a childhood cancer charity. Mattel's contribution here is with Brave Barbie, a doll line now running for over 10 years.

To quote the Executive Director of Mattel Children's Foundation and Corporate Philanthropy, Nancy Molenda, as quoted in the linked article on the CureSearch website:

Brave Barbie is given to children that are going through difficult cancer treatments so that they can see themselves and feel comforted that they’re not going through this alone.

Brave Barbies are donated to children fighting childhood cancer and depict either a light-skinned or a darker-skinned doll with no hair as well as a 'natural' coloured wig, a cute multi-coloured wig and a bandanna.

Mattel has also produced another doll in a similar range; friend of Barbie Ella, who was not for retail sale, but available only by donation to childrens hospitals, and depicted a friend of Barbie experiencing hair loss due to chemotherapy.

Cancer is a tragedy that affects many people and I am not going to ask you to donate to any particular charity or to engage in any particular kind of activism but I do encourage you to seek out a charity that suits you and that you personally would like to see support behind, if you are in a position where charity work or donations are right for you at the moment.

#barbie #ella friend of barbie #bald barbies #cancer #childhood cancer #susan g komen #world cancer day #brave barbie #curesearch

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candles-by-mokosh · 10 months

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Sun Kissed Hair ☀️

A simple glamour to naturally lighten hair, using the magic (and science) of the sun

If you like this spell, please check out my Etsy for more magical goodies! I really appreciate the support!

Rumor has it that sitting out in the sun for long periods of time can lighten your hair. The sun can lighten hair of any shade, but people with lighter hair tend to get the best results. If you have dark hair, the lightening won’t be as dramatic.

Remember: Always wear sunscreen when you’re outside – according to the Skin Cancer Foundation, 1 in 5 Americans will develop skin cancer by the time they’re 70, making it the most common form of cancer in the U.S. I’m not a medical professional, nor am I any sort of health authority. What you do is your actions, not mine. Please practice basic safety and common sense!

It’s true that the sun can lighten your hair, but you may need to take some extra steps to help it along. The sun and other natural hair lightening ingredients can be unpredictable and potentially damaging. Invest in a good conditioner and sunscreen before starting your quest for sun-kissed locks!

Sun Kissed Spray

☀️ Mix two parts warm water and one part juice from lemons in a clean spray bottle.

☀️ Wet all your hair or just the parts you want lightened.

☀️ Spray the lemon mixture onto your wet hair.

☀️ Sit in the sun for 1–2 hours to activate the lemon

☀️ Rinse thoroughly and condition hair.

☀️ Repeat as necessary!

Love & Light,

Mokosh 🌻

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and-then-there-were-n0ne · 1 month

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The medical transitioning of children has become one of the most controversial and polarising issues of our time. For some, it is a medical scandal. For others, life-saving treatment.

So, when hundreds of messages were leaked from an internal forum of doctors and mental health workers from the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, it was bound to spark interest. WPATH describes itself as an “interdisciplinary professional and educational organisation devoted to transgender health”. Most significantly, it produces standards of care (SOC) which, it claims, articulate “professional consensus” about how best to help people with gender dysphoria.

Despite its grand title, WPATH is neither solely a professional body – a significant proportion of its membership are activists – nor does it represent the “world” view on how to care for this group of people. There is no global agreement on best practice. The leaked messages (and the odd recording) – dubbed the WPATH files – are disturbing. In one video, doctors acknowledge that patients are sometimes too young to fully understand the consequences of puberty blockers and hormones for their fertility. “It’s always a good theory that you talk about fertility preservation with a 14-year-old, but I know I’m talking to a blank wall,” one Canadian endocrinologist says.

WPATH’s president, Dr Marci Bowers, comments on the impact of early blocking of puberty on sexual function in adulthood. “To date,” she writes, “I’m unaware of an individual claiming ability to orgasm when they were blocked at Tanner 2.” Tanner stage 2 is the beginning of puberty. It can be as young as nine in girls.

Elsewhere, there are extraordinary discussions on how to manage “trans clients” with dissociative identity disorder (what used to be called multiple personality disorder) when “not all the alters have the same gender identity”. Surgeons talk about procedures that result in bodies that don’t exist in nature: those with both sets of genitals – the “phallus-preserving vaginoplasty”; double mastectomies that don’t have nipples; “nullification” surgery, where there are no genitals at all, just smooth skin. And doctors discuss the possibility that 16-year-old patients have liver cancer as the result of taking hormones. The problem is not necessarily the discussions themselves, but that the organisation is not so open when speaking publicly.

The views of WPATH matter to the UK. For years, the organisation and its SOC have been cited as a source of “best practice” for trans healthcare by numerous medical bodies, including the British Medical Association and the General Medical Council – and still is. The Royal College of Psychiatrists refers to WPATH in its own recommendations for care.

Most relevant is that WPATH is cited as “good practice” in the current service specifications underpinning youth and adult gender clinics in England and Scotland, albeit in both cases it is WPATH’s previous SOC that is mentioned. The most recent version does away with all age limits from the beginning of puberty for hormones and surgical interventions, other than female to male genital surgery, and contains a chapter on eunuchs.

Several staff at England’s NHS adult gender clinics are not just members of WPATH (one is the former president), but authors of that current SOC. So too was Susie Green, the former boss of the young people’s charity Mermaids; a lack of medical expertise does not exclude either membership of WPATH or the power to influence policy.

England’s only NHS children’s gender clinic – the Gender Identity Development Service (Gids) at London’s Tavistock and Portman NHS Foundation Trust – will close its doors at the end of March, having been earmarked for closure since July 2022. But the 2016 service specification still underpinning Gids states that “the service will be delivered in line with” WPATH 7. While Gids was generally more cautious than other WPATH practitioners, clinicians I spoke to for my book, Time to Think, also relayed how young people claiming to have multiple personalities, or who identified with another race, could be referred for puberty blockers.

Gids staff have also presented at WPATH conferences for the past decade, including the most recent, held in 2022. This doesn’t imply agreement with WPATH’s principles, but association with the group becomes harder to justify as its views become more extreme.

It is difficult to see how the Department of Health’s assertion that NHS England “moved away from WPATH guidelines more than five years ago” holds.

What is true is that there is no mention of WPATH in updated guidance that will underpin the new youth gender services opening on 1 April. What’s more, NHS England has made it clear that WPATH’s views are irrelevant to its core recommendation that puberty blockers will no longer be available as part of routine clinical practice.

There is a battle raging over how best to care for children and young people struggling with their gender identity, with ever increasing numbers of European countries choosing to take a more cautious, less medical, approach after finding the evidence base underpinning those treatments to be wanting. NHS England insists that new services will operate in accordance with recommendations of the independent Cass review, and that it is well placed to develop policies “in line with clinical evidence and expertise”. But it won’t be easy. There is already discussion among professionals working in gender services planning a pushback against Cass’s as yet unpublished final recommendations.

It was difficult for Gids to stand up to external pressures, allowing the care it offered to suffer. At the same time, NHS England failed in its duty to provide proper oversight. Both they and those in charge of the new services must do better if they are to avoid the mistakes of the past. Without proper, evidence-based guidance on what good practice looks like, organisations like WPATH will continue to have influence.

#transgender #radical feminism #wpath #feminism #trans kids

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 month

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By: Hannah Barnes

Published: Mar 10, 2024

The medical transitioning of children has become one of the most controversial and polarising issues of our time. For some, it is a medical scandal. For others, life-saving treatment.

It is difficult to see how the Department of Health’s assertion that NHS England “moved away from WPATH guidelines more than five years ago” holds.

Hannah Barnes is associate editor at the New Statesman and author of Time to Think: The Inside Story of the Collapse of the Tavistock’s Gender Service for Children

The same institutions that were defending themselves by saying, "we're following WPATH best practice," will soon be saying, "WPATH was only a guide or starting point."

The backpedal has already begun.

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worldwidehoodrat · 1 year

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Not an Ugly Sweater || J. Avery

You guys... oh my goodness! I tried hard on this one, but this is not edited since it was pretty late and I have to be somewhere in the morning. So will be edited later! Enjoy!!

Day 18 Ugly Sweater Contest

It was time for the annual Ugly Christmas sweater contest at Gray-Solan Memorial, and even though he is now the person in charge of the hospital, Jackson still likes to show his face from time to time. He does surgeries while he is out on business, and whatnot, so why not is what he thought until his mother came into his office asking him if he found a date yet.

“No, mom, I do not have a date, and I don’t need one. I’m going to chat up some potential investors and meet with my friends, don’t think a date is needed for that.” “Oh, goodness Jackson, I’m not getting younger, nor has the cancer stopped. I need more than one grandchild from you before I kick the bucket.” “Ma!”

Catherine walked out of the office as if she said nothing, but to him she said everything, it was the harsh reality that he was sort of running away from. Going to the party was his way of getting out and forgetting his stressors for the moment.

The drive to the hospital was short, walking into the side lobby which was transformed for the Christmas party, it was beautiful, but you can also tell Christmas threw up in the room, but Jackson didn’t have time to sit around. He needed to get more money into the foundation for the hospital so they can make some much-needed repairs and updates, so he started doing what he did best.

Talking to everyone who came up to him or who he knew from his past, was a strategy he had, never judge anyone from the cover, everyone has something somewhere, and so far it has worked, bought in over three hundred grand the night alone. One could say that Jackson was riding on a high of good luck.

“I’ll have what he’s having.”

A woman appeared at his side. Jackson didn’t know whether to engage or not since he was used to woman throwing themselves at him, so he did a quick glance over and she was beautiful. He could tell her skin was soft to the touch by the way the lights bounced off her deep skin tone. She was in scrubs and on the top in black marker was ‘Ugly Sweater’

“I guess that could work too.”

The woman glanced up at Jackson before looking down at her shirt and nodding with a small chuckle leaving her mouth.

“Being a doctor is hard man, this is my best effort.”

Jackson was intrigued by the short sentence she gave which caused him to change his posture. He leaned on his elbow which sat on the bar top as he interlocked his fingers giving the woman his attention.

“Uh-oh, don’t want the nurses bitting my head off for talking to “Sexy Avery”.”

The woman tried to grab her drink and go but she was stopped by his hand coming out and blocking her path.

“You know I’m your boss right.” “Congratulations?” “I could fire you.” “And lose your cohead of neuro? Tell Bailey, I’m sure she would love that.”

Jackson was becoming more and more enticed by the woman before him, he wanted to know more, he needed to know more.

“What’s your name?”

With much sass the looked down at the badge that was clipped to the front of her scrubs.

“You see, I knew they made these for a reason.” “Alright smart ass, I get it.” “Zena Stickland.” “Aht, aht, don’t drop my MD. I worked hard for that.”

A laugh filled the space between them before Jackson went back to check her out. She wasn’t too tall nor too short for him, so they would have paired together well in photos. She was beyond a piece of work just from the short conversations he had with her now, but it was nothing that he couldn’t handle, and on top of that she was not treating him like her ‘boss’ but instead like a normal person.

Xena watched the taller man closely making sure he wouldn’t make any weird movements toward her. Yes, she knew who Jackson Avery was, yes, she also knew he was her boss, no she didn’t truly care, enough to not get her fired, but not enough to grovel at his feet.

Xena downed the whiskey shot before dropping a twenty on the countertop.

“You know the drinks are free.” “Yeah, but people here tip shit, so why not give the boy something nice.”

She showed him her pearly white before attempting to walk away. Jackson knew it was now or never with her so he followed behind her. Xena knew he was behind her so she started to walk in circles hoping the man would get the hint, that was until she was paged to one of her critical patients.

“What's going on?” “We don’t know, he started crashing, and before we could act... he leveled out.”

Xena picked up the tablet that already had the patient chart up. His levels were normal, nothing out of the ordinary, not even a point above or below normal.

“Run another MRI. I need to know what’s going on. Page me when it’s in okay.”

The nurse nodded and Xena went to walk out but she ran into a chest instead. Xena cursed as she backed up to come face-to-face with Jackson. The woman rolled her eyes as her hand made its way to his chest to move him from his path.

“Nina, I want that MRI Stat okay. Move whoever the hell you gotta move to get me my scans.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Xena had her mind full of possible answers to his reaction but nothing was coming up. Jackson didn’t know if she needed space or help, he was a tad bit lost but truthfully, he shouldn’t have been there.

“Are you done following me Avery…”

Jackson only stopped his movements because she spoke to him. Xena was slowly but surely getting fed up with him being on her ass, and right over her shoulder. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to talk to him, the woman was just trying to be friendly and now it is coming to bite her back in the ass.

“Xena! Jackson! There you guys are!”

Meredith turns the corner looking a bit flushed as she was able to catch up to the duo. Meredith gave her friend a look which was returned with a small head shake before she could even conjure up a thought.

“You guys placed in the contest. Everyone is waiting for you two.” “Wait, me?” “Her?”

Jackson, and Xena both yelped out, gaining some attention from the staff around. Xena looked down at her scrubs and shook her head not even sure why they chose her, Jackson was thinking the same thing but this was giving him more time with her so he didn’t care about who voted and why.

Meredith reached out for both of their hands and drug them back to the main area so they could accept their prizes. Xena glanced over at Jackson and the man did the same giving her a slight smirk as he gestured to her “ugly Sweater”.

“I bet you first place.”

Xena wanted to flick him off, but would that be right to flick off your boss regardless of how annoying they may be? Xena weighed her options before sticking her finger up at him, this garnered her a hearty laugh from the man, even threw his head back and everything.

When they made it back to the party cheers and claps came from everywhere as they climbed the stage. Xena could tell that this was something normal for him. He was a natural, smiling and waving at everyone. It was second nature to him, while Xena was stuck.

Stage fright was in and of her. Even growing up when her mother signed her up for the neighborhood talent show. She is a dancer, but only ever danced in her room and for her family, anything outside of that was too much for her anxiety. That day was a nightmare for her and she told her mother that she was quitting dance.

That was the last time that she stepped on a stage. This... this was horror for her. Jackson looked over at Xena and could see that her breathing increased, a small layer of sweat covered her forehead, and her hand was rubbing against her thigh. She was having a panic attack. Jackson tried not to make it noticeable since that would defeat the whole purpose of him helping her.

Jackson walked over to her and made it seem like he wanted a picture with her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, making sure he had a firm grip on her.

“Jackson... I... Get me-” “I know, just hold on for a couple of minutes.”

Owen, being chosen as the host this year, was explaining why they chose him and Xena for the contest, and before they could even receive the places for the winning, she was out like a light. Jackson knew it was coming, he bared her weight as she passed out, quickly changing sides as he moved his other hand to protect her head and neck.

Owen was fast to come to help. They quickly got her on a gurney and got her out of harms way away from everyone. This was worrying Jackson, the doctor in him started to itch to order test, but he knew he needed to stand back and let those who were actually on call do their jobs Meradith being one of them helped.

“What happened?” “She had a panic attack. Her norepinephrine was high, and triggered her fight or flight... she did the latter half as we see. She is fine Jackson, and should wake up in a few.”

Meredith could see that his worry was eating at him, but also that he was a bit smitten with her friend, something that she has to keep in mind to bother Xena later about.

A few hours have passed since Xena was bought into a spare patient room. Jackson was starting to worry a little that she hasn’t even moved a finger since she passed out. The man was so close to ordering his own labs to try and figure her out. When the thought came to his mind, Xena started to twitch just a bit.

“Xena?”

Jackson was quick to be at her bedside. He wanted his face to be the first one she saw every worry line; he wanted her to know that he cared.

Xena’s hand immediately went to her head as her hand went to cover her eyes from the bright lights. The woman could put two and two together to figure out what happened, and she was a little embarrassed to admit it.

She passed out in front of all of the hospital and patients! This would go up there of the worst days of her life. She sat up kind of fast, forcing all of the blood to rush from her head making her a little dizzy.

“Whoa. There tiger you might wanna slow it down.”

Xena knew that voice. He wouldn’t be at her bedside, he wouldn’t be caring about her, and she isn’t even up to par enough to be on his radar. Why would be at her bedside.

“I’m fine, thank you.” “Yeah, you’re welcome. What kind of doctor would I be if I let you hit the ground?”

If Xena could roll her eyes without her head hurting, she would. She glanced around for water before finding the cup and taking a sip. The silence between them was comfortable, it was safe to say that she wanted to keep it. It made her feel safe with him.

Jackson moved to reach for something on the table beside the bed and sat it in her lap.

“You got second place by the way... still have ways to go.”

Xena glared at him playfully before pushing his hands away from her lap. Before she could say anything, Jackson got up from the chair, not before giving her a longing look while he closed the door. Maybe it wouldn’t be bad to give pretty boy a shot... right?

#feedback always appreciated #thanks for reading #oc #ctcwc22 #13 days of christmas #grays anatomy #jackson avery imagine #jackson avery #jackson avery x reader

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