#sorry if this sounds off my meds wore off like three hours ago

[mitamicah]

Oh telling things, just talking like 👀👀👀👀.

Oh i once ripped my pants from sitting in the snow too long, had a big hole in my pants and had to walk home like that (was only a five minutes walk and i was seven)

I once fell off a pony and no one noticed 😃, i just sat there and waited until they came back, greeted me and then were completely surprised, because they had not noticed. The pony was sweet :3☺️☺️☺️

I went into haunted house as a child and afterwards it took two adults and almost twenty minutes to get me off my neighbour, i held onto that poor boy for dear life while screaming and crying. He wore a vampire costume and i was a witch or cat.

I used go be obsessed with wearing a dinosaur costume 😃😃. I also used to have a hat with cat ears and eye holes but grew out of it 😔.

I have a horrible sense of orientation, its almost criminal. I once drank half a bottle of sleeping medicine (sleep issues due to other meds) and slept for 18 hours.

Oh and i got hit by cars a few times but never something bad, sturdy bones and strong kitty.

My twin (my most beloved) and I usually plan multiple movies days, our record is three movies in one day, nine hours in the cinema.

My twin and I once "attacked" each other with stamps and had to walk through the entire building to wash our stained faces because there was only one working sink.

I am terrible on skates, i once fell and managed to land in the only puddle, my entire back and thighs and butt were soaking wet. And cold.

I went to school in a hospital for some time and that was interesting, smallest school i ever went to. I think i still have the clay bowl I made somewhere. And i will never forgive the nurse in another hospital for just turning the tv off i was watching a movie and have to this day not been able to find it again and it was almost 13 years ago, was very uncool.

I once slept through fireworks going off right next to my room, and through a pillow thrown at my face to check if I was still alive, i also once rolled on top of someone and slept through the other person pushing me back on my side.

Hopefully your day will turn better 💛💛💛

Wait ... how is that even possible OVO oh no I am so sorry that sounds horrible but also hilarious at the same time :'D xD

Another incidence on 'how did that even happen' x'D that is a cute story tho - just a silly little time with a pony x'D

Awww sweet summer child (litterally) :'3 <333 sounds like the neighbour was somewhat patient with you tho, that's nice :'D

Ngl dinosaur costumes are cool :D!!! oh no I hate when that happens :'3 would we just stay the right size for our comfort clothes forever :'D

I can relate to the bad location skills x'D

Oh wow that is a long ass nap OVO I have tried something similar (20 hours but not because of sleep medicine but just pure old exhaustion) and it is very disorienting :'D

I am not sure if I should say that you are very lucky or unlucky for that one :'D this cat definitely have nine lives x'D

Awwwn I love that - normalize sibling dates :'D <3

Hahahahaah that sounds like a lovely and silly memory x'D

Oh nooooo :'D whelp you have more experience on skates than I do it seems which is not hard since I never trusted myself on skates x'D hahaha

I agree, not cool of the nurse :'3 must've been a movie you were quite into as well if you still remember so far after the fact OVO

Wait .... how OVO? I would've been acting like a scared/angsty cat or dog if that happened to me :'D

Thank you for sharing all these fun little facts and stories Jay ^V^ I hope it is alright I submit this :'D? otherwise let me know and I'll take it down <33

#a wall of silly facts and stories #gotta love it!! #replies

[breezyfeather]

I just got a pair of noise canceling headphones for my birthday and I wore them on my commute home (for context, it’s a 30 minute bus ride in a city in Japan followed by a 15 minute walk on a reasonably busy road) and I feel like a whole other person. I didn’t even listen to anything for most of the ride; just the drowned out sound.

I’ve always known I’m overly sensitive. When I was a kid, I couldn’t stand clothing tags, certain clothing textures, styles—hell, I turned 25 three days ago and I only 6 months ago discovered I can’t tolerate skirts bc I despise the sensation of my thighs brushing each other. Solution? Long undershorts. Now I love skirts and they’re all I wear.

I still can’t stand being sticky or sweaty or slimy. My hair is too long rn so I’m wearing it tied in a ponytail, but it keeps brushing the back of my neck and irritating me. Next thing I’ll buy is a hair clip, since it’s almost winter and I’m not cutting it rn.

Anyway, when I was a 2nd grader I got caught in the bathroom during a fire drill. Traumatized me; couldn’t stand piercing noises before that, had a meltdown every time one occurred after for the next 3 years.

I can’t process conversations in loud environments, especially those where lots of people are talking. Imagine how trying to navigate a country whose language you aren’t fluent in feels.

I moved into an apartment almost a year ago and was really agitated in my space, especially at night; took me a while to figure out it was my light. It’s one of those cold fluorescent bulbs which casts bluish white light and is not even all that bright. So I bought an LED strip with a color changing function; set it to a custom color that’s sort of peach-ish? Now I can exist in my space and not want to stab someone.

WOW going through and categorizing all the things I’m super picky about has made me really aware of my neurodivergence. I’m a vegetarian bc I can’t stand the texture of meat, and now the idea of eating a sentient creature makes my stomach turn to the point that I can’t keep it down if I do. I can’t stand Yankee Candle because of how obnoxiously pungent all of the scents are, and I’m super aware of perfume and cologne if anyone is wearing it—even laundry detergent. Weird that I love coffee and bitter foods yet can’t tolerate cilantro (but that might be the soap gene), and I love curry and spicy food. Can’t stand sharp cheeses, milk chocolate, or licorice.

The ADHD sensory processing issues are insane. I’m so mad it took me 25 years to really grasp how much sound effects me. I had a basic idea but OW.

I’m almost afraid to take off the headphones now. Everything is so quiet and gentle and soft. I’m not ready for the assault when I lift them off my ears.

…

Well it’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but eesh. I’m gonna rely on these way too much if I’m not careful. Didn’t some guy get tinnitus because he wore his noise canceling headphones too often?

Sorry for the ramble but my meds wore off like 2 hours ago and it’s Friday night. Thanks for reading, if anyone did.

#adhd #actually adhd #sensory processing issues #sound #noise canceling headphones #sensory processing disorder #neurodivergence #autism #neurodivergent

[twothirdsgenius]

I don’t want to wade into the “adhd diagnosis from afar discourse” BUT please tell me more about how your self-expression changed before and after treatment.

Oh yeah it’s showtime 😎 Also hey! As a fun little experiment, I’m going to set a reminder to myself going to respond to this tomorrow when I’m on my meds, because mine wore off about two hours ago and so I might not make sense ☠️ I will also avoid talking about dan in this area but like I have a lot of things to say about that if anyone wants to slide into my dms 👀

First thing worth mentioning is that there’s actually three official forms of ADHD, and I have combined type (both inattentive and hyperactive). I’ve been on meds for three years, and I’m 23 so I got a diagnosis much earlier than many who are also afab. I also had a lot of traumatic experiences in school at the hands of teachers who frequently humiliated me in front of my classmates whenever I would say something odd, and so I tried to just stop talking altogether but my impulsivity never let me stop and so it was just this never ending story. These experiences definitely had an impact on how I expressed myself before meds. I had a really hard time formulating thoughts and then having those thoughts leave my mouth the way I intended them to. I would often get really snappy and lash out at people and I would get super impatient with people because they were taking too long to finish what they were saying and so I would just finish their sentences for them and I was usually exactly on the money? Because my brain was So Fast but it was too fast for me to finish a thought or finish a sentence and so I would just sound like a rude fucking nutcase. I would just ramble, it was like the verbal form of trying to play darts with your eyes closed. Sometimes I would just trail off mid-sentence (still do when my meds aren’t active) because Brain.exe would just crash for no reason!!

Before meds, trying to express myself was like there was a bunch of cogs in my brain that would otherwise be perfectly functional, but there was one single cog that was jammed and couldn’t move and so all of the other cogs were stuck too. And so during conversations I would try and contribute but there was a stuck cog that fucked everything up and so whatever came out of my mouth was what it was.

I think this is why I got so into writing as a kid. I felt stupid whenever I would talk out loud but when I wrote it was like physical proof that I wasn’t an idiot. People used to call me the r word a lot, although tbf that was just as much about my dyscalculia as it was about my ADHD (both are comorbidities, fun fact)

The first time I took my starter dosage of adderall, I actually broke down into tears because it was the first time I had ever felt calm. The cobwebs got cleared and that one damned cog got unstuck and I started talking again. Really talking, not stumbling through my words. It took me a long time to realize this but the real me is the person I am when my brain is working properly with the aid of my meds. I’m much more patient, I’m much quicker to forgive people and less likely to get angry even if someone were to directly provoke me and I’m much more talkative when I’m on my meds. I’m more likely to strike up conversations with strangers (I live in the midwest and this skill has become very useful because people will just talk to you??) and I have an easier time talking to my friends.

I also have an easier time talking to myself. I’m much more patient with myself. I’m much more forgiving towards myself. And this has a lot to do with both the therapy I’ve done and!! because my meds help so much with my impulse control!!

I’m so sorry I wrote like the fucking Iliad in response but I’m always down to talk about this so thank you very much I appreciate this ask more than you know

#🖤🖤🖤 #adhd.jpg

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

False alarm

Steve Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: You ran away from the Avengers years ago, not knowing how to deal with feelings for a certain someone. But when you find out about a threat to humanity, you have to deliver it to the tower. You planned on dying there but your old friends refused to let you go.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 2848

Broken and bruised, you sit down on a couch in the common room. You know Stark’s systems are mere seconds from rebooting and detecting you as an intruder but you couldn’t care less. Right now, you need a place to bleed out in peace, and what better place than your former employer’s couch. And there it goes. You know Friday is too advanced to just turn on lights and sirens but you hear a scuffling and the opening and closing of doors as well as guns getting readied. And still, you couldn’t care less. Because, if it really comes down to it, there are two scenarios that could happen. Best case: They realize it’s you, listen to what you have to say, and patch you up. Worst case: They shoot you on accident or on purpose and put you out of your misery. Either is fine with you. Though with the pain you are experiencing, you’d rather die than have to go through recovery. ‘Y/n?‘ You pull your head up with the last bits of strength you still possess and look at a few familiar faces. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Natasha Romanoff. ‘Hi,‘ you say weakly, ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I just wanted to bleed out peacefully.‘ Tony rushes towards you and sits down beside you. ‘Why’d have to you pick the couch?‘ His words were supposed to come out as joking and sarcastic but there’s hurt in them. And it could be delusion from losing a lot of blood, but you would’ve sworn you saw a tear fall onto his cheek. ‘The floor was uncomfortable,‘ you explain to him with a grin that looks crooked. You had intended to sound cocky, like the grin you always wore when you had sass wars with Stark. Instead, your words came out desperate. ‘I have a black rug right there,‘ his voice sounds shaky. Steve and Natasha walk over and the lights turn on. They kneel down next to you. ‘What happened to you, y/n,‘ Steve asks you, worried as always. He had always been a great guy. You’re not quite sure why you decided you didn’t like him anymore. ‘I- shit,‘ you cuss at the pain as you try to move yourself to sit up a bit more. Both Steve and Tony jump towards you to support you, but you brush their hands away. The only reason they’re not rushing you to a doctor right now is because they know how stubborn you can be. You take a deep breath. ‘I found something,’ you tell them and point at the bag you dropped a few steps into the common room, ‘it’s in my bag. They came after me.’ Your breathing becomes heavier and suddenly you realize you might actually die today. ‘What’s going on?‘ Bruce comes strolling into the room looking tired more than anything until he notices you on the couch. That man doesn’t ever run, but he damn near sprints towards you. ‘Oh shit. We need to get her medical help.‘ ‘No, you need to get my bag,‘ you tell them sternly, ‘it’s more important than my life.‘ Natasha is the only one who does as you say, although she does it with tears in her eyes. ‘Everything is on the USB,‘ you tell her. She nods and runs off to the lab. It is only then that you take a relaxed breath. ‘Ok, now you can help me.‘ None of the men waste any time getting you to the med bay. While they get things ready, you tell them a self-evaluation as well as your blood type to get them ready faster. It is only then that they realize where most of the bleeding is coming from. ‘Jesus Christ woman,‘ Tony looks at you in awe, ‘you lost half an arm and you still managed to come here?‘ ‘Just patch me up,‘ you snap at him. He nods. ‘On it.‘ He takes off the rag that you clumsily wrapped around it in an attempt to lessen the bleeding. ‘God, that’s nasty,‘ Tony gags but continues on while Steve works on some smaller cuts and Bruce gets some blood ready. ‘Hey Tony,‘ you try to speak but your voice sounds shaky and weak. You feel your consciousness fade away more and more with every breath you take. ‘Yes, dear?‘ ‘If I make it, will you get me a cool metal arm like Bucky’s?‘ ‘Of course. You want the metal metal or the black metal?‘ ‘Metal metal,‘ you smile, ‘that one was way cooler.‘ And suddenly you’re slipping. It’s like one of those dreams where you feel like you’re falling, only you’re not landing. You keep falling and falling and falling and falling and...

. ‘How is she doing?‘ Tony walks into the med bay with three cups of coffee. One for him, one for Bruce who came to do a checkup, and one for Steve who has been here for the last few days without moving. ‘Stable,‘ Bruce says shortly, ‘but Steve told me her heartbeat increased a few times during the night as well as her brain activity.‘ ‘That’s good, right?‘ ‘Better than we could’ve expected.‘ Tony smiles meekly. ‘I guess I better get working on that arm for her.‘ The door slams open and Natasha rushes in. She looks just as exhausted as Steve and both Bruce and Tony doubt she has had any sleep the past days. ‘It’s a weaponized gas,‘ she tells the three, ‘she found out that Hydra is working on a damn weaponized gas. A biological weapon.‘ She takes over one of the screens in the med bay that wasn’t used and projects her findings. ‘I think we all know how zombies work,‘ she starts her explanation, ‘well, Hydra is planning on making the whole world zombies. Not to bend them to their will, but to make them compliant so they can analyze everyone and make the useless kill themselves. The gas dies down after only a week and will be untraceable after.‘ ‘Let’s get to work.‘ . Bruised, tired, and broken Steve sits down at the side of your bed again. The man hasn’t even taken the time to take off his suit or take a shower. Right when the jet landed, he rushed back to you with Bucky following shortly behind to check on him. He smiles at the sight of you while Bucky leans against the doorpost. He’s worried for his friend, as anyone would be. He had known you for a little bit before you left. No one really knows why you left or how you left without a trace. All they knew is what you left on a note and the note really didn’t say much. Just that it was all too much for you. And yet here you are. You just helped save the world from great misery and you don’t even know it. How did all this happen? Steve lets his head hang. ‘Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me but I need you to know that we did it,’ he tells your unconscious body, ‘we stopped them and no one died except for some Hydra scum. And Stark promised to start working on your arm tomorrow, so you better wake up so his work doesn’t go to waste.’ He looks up at Bucky for a second who seems to have teary eyes as well. Slowly, more Avengers come walking in. Bruce takes a seat at a desk, Tony sits down on top of the desk, Natasha sits down next to Steve, even Sam decided to come to support you even though he doesn’t really know you so he just leans against the doorframe with Bucky, Peter doesn’t know you either but stands behind Bucky and Sam to silently support everyone in the room. ‘I think I speak for all of us when I say we missed you,‘ Steve continues, ‘work has been different without you around. And though we all wanted you back, I don’t think any of us would’ve wanted to see you like this. We miss you.‘ ‘Speak for yourself,‘ Tony comments through tears, ‘she bled on my couch.‘ . Your USB had more information on it than just the gas. Peter and Bruce have been trying to decipher it for a week or two when Peter takes another look at you through the glass walls of the lab. ‘Doctor Bruce, I know it’s a bit strange to ask this late, but who is she?‘ Bruce peeks up from his work and walks over to the kid. He looks through the glass and sees her steady heartbeat and active brain. Your brain had been active for some time now and yet you still weren’t waking up. ‘Y/n Y/l/n,‘ he smiles, ‘think Natasha, but more motherly. In fact, there was this running joke that she would be a great mother but she’d always say she already has too many kids to take care of here. She was a great agent, but one day she just up and left. None of us knew where she went or how she disappeared without a trace but she did. We hadn’t seen her in years when she turned up.‘ Peter nods at his explanation but continues to stare. Lost in thoughts, he starts twiddling with his fingers while Bruce turns back to work. Peter sees Steve come into the med bay like he had done many times this week. Most times he’d stay for an hour or so to talk to her about anything and everything. Some others tried to talk to her too but most got too emotional. Not Steve. If they’d let him, he’d sit there the whole damn day. He’d sleep by her side if the bed was big enough. He was there whenever there was a change in her activities. ‘Why is Steve so fond of her?‘ ‘They were friends. She’s known him from the start and she’s always trusted him,‘ Bruce tells the kid, ‘she trusted him when he found out Hydra was infiltrating Shield, she trusted him when he told her Bucky had saved him, and she trusted him when he said they could trust Bucky. She’s been there for him every step of the way. I think there was something more there but I’m not sure.‘ Peter nods and gets back to work. Steve deserves some privacy with her. So he and Bruce continue to decode Hydra files. . ‘Steve Rogers, the alarm has been set off. There is activity in the kitchen. The activity seems harmless.‘ Steve groans at the sound of Friday’s voice. ‘Why are you waking me?‘ ‘Tony has already been alerted. He asked to wake the others as this might have to do with the USB agent Y/n brought in.‘ That’s all it takes to get Steve on his feet. He quickly puts on the first clothes he finds which are joggers and a T-shirt. He sneaks into the hallway, meeting with Natasha who is already wielding a gun. The two stalk slowly towards the kitchen where it seems someone has put on the lights. They go into high alert. Either this is a very cocky Hydra agent or someone who doesn’t have clearance to be here at night. As they go around the corner they find- ‘Oh, hi,‘ you say casually. They look at you with their jaws on the ground. To be fair, it must be a funny scene. You’re not used to eating with one hand and your bowl keeps slipping away from you every time you dig your spoon a little too deep into the ice cream you found. So you’re sitting hunched over, holding back the bowl with your stump and your elbow on your other arm while instantaneously trying to eat the ice cream. It’s a mess. Or it could be the fact that you’re awake. Who knows? You surely don’t. You honestly feel like you’ve just had a very good night’s rest. ‘What are- Why- How-‘ Steve stutters his words, not really sure how to react to you. ‘It’s ice cream,‘ you tell him, ‘I was hungry, and I’m not quite sure how I’m managing this but it’s going.‘ He looks at you like you’ve just told him you’re a flat earther. He doesn’t understand a thing coming out of your mouth while you’re just answering his questions. Natasha finally lowers her gun. ‘What he means to say is: why the hell are you out of bed and how are you acting so casual when you’ve been in a coma for weeks?’ ‘Weeks? I thought I just slept through the day. I had a really nice dream,‘ you smile, ‘Steve and I were sitting on the rooftop and we were just talking about everything that has been going on these past years. Though I’m sure I imagined most of it.‘ A small smile appears on Steve’s face. You heard him in your sleep. He pulls you into a tight hug and doesn’t let go until Bruce and Tony come running into the kitchen. ‘Y/n is go- oh,‘ Tony looks surprised to see you sitting at the table with a bowl of ice cream. Just as confuses as Steve had looked, if not more. ‘We though you- oh well, that’s fine I guess.‘ ‘Say, Tony, am I still getting that arm because this is terrible,‘ you joke as you attempt to eat the ice cream again. ‘I-‘ he stops himself for a second to reevaluate what he was going to say, ‘no, why the hell are you ok? You’ve been in a coma for weeks.‘ ‘I know. Steve told me,‘ you sigh, ‘honestly, thank you for telling me that. I thought I had lost my strength overnight. I had such a hard time walking.‘ ‘You should rest,‘ Natasha states. ‘Why? You just told me I’ve been in a coma for weeks. I’ve had enough rest,‘ you stubbornly try to cross your arms only to realize you only have 1.5 arms. They watch the smile on your face falter for a second before a yawn leaves your lips. ‘Ok, sure, that’s on me. Where do I sleep? Because I’m not taking the couch if that thing still has dried blood on it.‘ ‘It’s your blood,‘ Tony snaps at you. ‘I know, that doesn’t make it less disgusting.‘ Tony rubs his forehead. Ah, that’s where all his headaches went. You took them with you when you left. ‘You can stay with me,’ Steve offers. You smile. ‘I’d like that.’ . ‘There you go. Try to move your fingers.‘ You marvel at the shiny vibranium arm that is now attached to the remainder of your arm. You don’t try to move quite yet, scared that it might not work and you’ll be excited about nothing. It’s already a strange feeling though. You can see your metal limb, but your body is not understanding that it’s a part of your body. You look at Steve, who is sat next to you, for a second, hoping to get some encouragement from him. He grabs your normal hand and squeezes it gently as he smiles at you. ‘You can do it,’ he tells you but it sounds like a promise. Carefully, you focus on moving a finger. Tony watches hopefully when your index finger starts to move a little bit. You try to move your thumb and watch it move. It still doesn’t register in your head that that is your limb, but it is doing it. Then you try to turn your hand and it works too. And then comes the big thing. Actually lifting your arm. You focus on trying to lift it as hard as you can. It comes off the table just a little bit and suddenly it clicks. ‘Holy shit,‘ you cuss excitedly, ‘Steve, are you seeing this?‘ Steve has tears in his eyes as he watches the excitement double in your face. ‘I am.‘ ‘This is insane. Wow,‘ you awe, moving around more and more, ‘Tony, this is amazing. You are the best.‘ ‘Don’t praise me yet. Try picking something up.‘ Steve puts his cup of coffee down in front of you and you move the metal arm to pick it up. The whole thing looks a bit clumsy, like a baby giraffe walking for the first time, but you’re doing it. You’re actually picking up the cup. ‘Stark, you did it,‘ Steve praises with a huge grin on his face. ‘This is so fucking cool,‘ you look amazed at your arm. ‘Language.‘ ‘Yes cap,‘ you turn to Tony, ‘so what’s next?’ ‘I don’t know, you tell me,’ he says. You look at Steve and frown for a second. He nods. ‘I think I’ve left some loose ends here,’ you tell Tony while continuing to look at Steve, ‘I’d like to get a chance to tie them up.’ ‘Sure, but if Morgan can’t be the flower girl, you’re out.’ Your lips pull into a loving smile, your eyes still glued to Steve. He looks hopeful and that’s all you need. ‘Deal.’

#steve x reader #steve x female reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #captain america #captain america fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you

[bad-bitch-beauchamp]

Songs About Me: Chapter Five

Thanks for your continued support for these sweet artsy bairns! Here’s the next installment! I read all of your kind comments and they mean the absolute world to me.

READ ON AO3

Louisburg Square, Beacon Hill, Boston

Claire was just walking up to the picturesque green of Louisburg Square, where her townhouse sat facing the gardens, when her phone began an incessant buzzing. She had her hands full after stopping at the market for dinner staples (otherwise known as a box of Velveeta Shells & Cheese). She was fumbling with her purse and muttering a not-so-quiet “Shit,” when she dropped her keys on the porch. When she stooped lower to get the keys, more toiletries from the market spilled onto the ground and rolled down the steps while her phone continued to buzz. “Oh fuck it all to hell… Oh hello, Mr. Grant!” Claire’s next door neighbor was a kind man, but always appeared perplexed -- whether by her uncontrollable hair, clothes splattered with dirt from the shop, or simply by wondering how she came to be the owner of one of the most coveted real estate properties in New England, Claire would never know.

“Hello dear. Are you alright over there?” His brow was knit as Claire shoved her scattered belongings back into their various bags all while muttering under her breath as to not offend the old man’s sensibilities. She stood, and realized he had most definitely already heard her vocabulary choices.

“Oh, I’m fine, just one of those days!” One of those days where you fall head over heels for the strange guy you met last night and then all your shit falls on the sidewalk because your brain is short-circuiting.

“Well as always, if you need anything, I’m just here and happy to help.”

“Thank you! One day I’ll absolutely take you up on it -- I’m usually less of a mess!” She tried to joke it off, but it sounded a little too much like she was trying to justify herself to neighbor, and herself.

Mr. Grant smiled. “Of course, dear. Ah, you seem to be very popular today!”

Claire’s phone went off for at least the fifth time. She tried to reign in her annoyance, said her goodbyes to the man, and using her foot to kick a back of groceries inside the doorway finally made it inside. She dug around her bag for the phone ready to lash out at whatever telemarketer couldn’t take a hint, but stopped.

Two missed phone calls, four missed texts. The caller left a voicemail for each call. She pressed play on the earlier one.

“Hi Sassenach, uh, Claire, I guess I should call ye Claire since that’s yer name, huh? Shit. Hold on… Okay, let me start over. Hello Claire, this is Jamie. James. James Fraser? From the bookshop and the karaoke, ye ken? Of course she kens, ye damn eedjit… Me! Not you! Oh god this is literally the worst call I’ve ever made in my life. Fuck it, I’m just going to try again.” The voicemail abruptly ended. Claire was in stitches at his earnest attempt to just talk to her. At least he wasn’t lying when she heard him say she wouldn’t have to wait long at all for message from him. She pressed play on the second voicemail.

“Hello Claire, I hope this message finds ye well. It was verra nice to see ye today at my shop. It may be the cool, relaxed thing tae do would be to not call ye right away, but ye make me feel anything but cool and relaxed and under control. Ye make me feel… like there’s something different between us, mo nighean donn. As I told ye in the shop, I dinna think I can wait another week to see ye. If you would do me the honor of saying yes, I would verra much like to take ye out for dinner and drinks. Or anything ye wanted to do, really. Dinner and drinks was just my idea… okay I think I’m getting flustered again so I’m going to quit while I’m ahead. Okay thanks, talk to you soon hopefully, bye. Oh, and this is Jamie Fraser.”

Her laughter had died out the moment he said how she made him feel. Is that really how he felt about her? Did he mean it? Claire had a feeling that Jamie Fraser from the bookshop and the karaoke, ye ken didn’t ever say things he didn’t mean. She fell into the couch facing the big bay window, and breathed. Her breath came in heavy, her heartbeats fast. Her thoughts were swirling and her mind racing and everything felt light around here. A little breathlessly, she opened her text app to a number she didn’t recognize.

[[phone]]: Hello Claire, this is James Fraser from Fraser Literature and from karaoke last night at The 21st Amendment.

Claire actually laughed out loud now. As if she could forget who he was! He had turned her world upside down at the bar, she sang in his shop, she gave him her phone number less than an hour ago! She added his number to her contacts before reading his following texts.

[Jamie]: Okay that was weirdly formal, sorry

[Jamie]: Could ye do me a favor and just delete the first voicemail?

[Jamie]: I was hoping we could maybe set up a time for the date I mentioned earlier at the shop? I would really like to see ye again before next week.

[Jamie]: And maybe before we have to hang out with the Spanish Inquisition. ;)

Claire laughed through her nose at that last one; apparently, Jamie had been grilled about their relationship? Interaction? by Rupert and Angus like Claire had been by Joe and Geillis. She reread all the messages he’d sent her before responding.

[Claire]: Hello James Fraser, owner of Fraser Literature and karaoke. I do indeed remember and even if I didn’t, you’ve reminded me several times in your many incessant texts/voicemails. ;)

Three dots immediately popped up, disappeared, popped up, and a next text appeared.

[Jamie]: I told ye to delete the first voicemail! You weren’t supposed to hear my rambling!

[Claire]: Uh huh, seems likely. ;) Maybe I have a super power that renders you useless around me?

[Jamie]: Well lass you're not far off.

[Jamie]: How’s about that date? What are you doing tonight?

[Claire]: Lol, you’re not tired of seeing my face yet?

[Jamie]: Not yet, not ever.

[Jamie]: Sooooooooo, dinner? ;)

Eventually, they decided on a little Italian place close to Claire’s place. Claire paced around the upstairs bedroom, trying out an outfit only to rip it off and throw it in a pile on the floor. She’d walk to the bathroom, evaluate her look, give a deep breath out her nose, and was now at the point of yelling about how she had no clothes. But, she remembered. In a garment bag at the back of her closet hung a blood-orange dress. A square neckline gave way to a triangle dip in the middle, the hem came just to the middle of her thigh with a cinched waistline.. She smiled, sadly. The last time she wore the dress, she was still in med school. Frank had asked her out to “a dinner with a few medical friends” and promised she could make a few connections to help her down the road. Claire ended up discarded at the door until Frank needed to show her off to a classmate or professor or colleague. She learned he hadn’t told anyone she was also studying medicine, telling her he “wanted to let you stand on your own, darling.” The last time she had worn that dress, she realized she wouldn’t resign herself to a life of being second-best to her partner, to a group of strangers, or to anyone. Tonight was the perfect time to remind herself she was taking things into her own hands yet again -- with Jamie at her side. Her smile turned genuine, and she pulled it off the hanger.

-- -- --

Jamie knew this was unusual. Claire wasn’t the first girl he’d ever been interested in, but if he had any choice in the matter, she would be the last one. Rationally, he should’ve been talking himself out of planning a future with the girl from the bar, but he couldn’t help himself. When he was in high school in Scotland, he kissed a girl who smelled like hairspray and spun sugar and he didn’t like that at all. He kissed a few lasses before rugby games and they’d tell him it was all for good luck. He enjoyed them (didn’t every red-blooded teenage boy enjoy kisses before sports games?), but enjoyment was the extent of it. In college, he had met Annalise. She was smart and kind and lovely, and so bonny. She’d loved his family, loved him. And he had loved her, too. Their relationship started after their first year at school when they became close friends and confidants. She was truly one of the best friends he’d ever had, outside of the lads. When he said he was leaving Scotland to pursue his dreams in the states, she said she was being “abandoned”. Jamie considered asking her to come with him to build a life, but reconsidered. After many long conversations, many tears, many honest words… they had decided their relationship was based in comfort. They loved each other, there was no doubt about that. They loved each other because of their close friendship, their proximity to each other at school, their families’ friendship that developed because of their own. When Jamie confronted Annalise about his realization that he would forever be grateful for her, but didn’t see a romantic future together, she had cried and told him she was so happy -- she felt the same. They split amicably and continued to call and text when they could. Friendships like theirs didn’t just dissipate.

With Claire, things felt… different. Emotional, raw, honest, profound. It felt like something he couldn’t quite place. Something he didn’t have words for. The mere thought of her made his pulse quicken, made his breath catch in his chest. Their connection last night at the bar, their physical connection at the bookshop (god, how it felt to be touched by her…) , their easy banter over text, and then when she gave him her address… he had to sit down. He knew her address exactly. He’d passed it every time he went home, or went to work, or went anywhere at all. She lived in Louisburg Square, across the garden and just to the right of a place he knew intimately. She lived across the garden and just to the right, of his place. They were neighbors. He never knew. He thought back to telling her how they must have just been missing each other for years, but god, he never knew how close they really were.

Jamie finished tying up his leather boots and took a look in the mirror. Hair brushed back, curls falling at his neck, a light blue button-up, a leather jacket. Not too bad. Still not good enough for her, though. He tugged at the neck of his shirt, and left his townhouse. He made his way up his side of the square, and stopped not ten feet up the sidewalk. He saw her. From the second floor, Claire was illuminated by soft light in the window, gauzy curtains framing her. He could only watch in awe as her head tilted to the side to fit an earring to her ear. She reached for a brush and started to comb out a curl. Jamie sighed contentedly when he noticed her hair was still down, curled around her face, wild as ever. Claire gave up with the brush and settled herself to smoothing down creases in her wee dress with delicate hands. Hands that had touched him, healed him, had literally written her name over his heart. She was... ethereal. Tearing his eyes away from the window, he managed to send her a message:

[Jamie]: On my way there Sassenach

[Claire]: No worries, take your time. See you soon!

Jamie rounded the center garden and up to her steps. The light from the window was still glowing, but he could no longer see her. One more text:

[Jamie]: Just outside

He walked up the steps, raised his knuckles to the brass knocker, and paused. First step to forever… His phone buzzed.

[Claire]: I thought I said to take your time? ;) seriously, how’d you get here so fast? Just a sec and I’ll be down!

He did knock then, answered her text to say there was no rush, he wasn’t going anywhere. Behind the door he heard a literal run down the stairs and he stifled a chuckle. There was a jingle of keys, a fairly loud, “Shit!” as the keys hit the floor, a scuttle of shoes around the entry, and the door opened.

Here we go, lad.

#songs about me fic #in which tessaactually tries fan fic #outlander fan fic #outlander fan fiction #jamie x claire #the frasers #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp

[louiseleblancdiggory]

TS EPIPHANY!!! FOR ROWAELIN!! please make it angsty but don't fully break my heart

You know what moving means? Means no internet for a few days. I am so sorry that it’s taking so long to post but I am using my phone’s hotspot for this and it doesn’t load. The OUAD chapter 5 is done but I can’t post it because it’s too big. I’ll probably have a better internet tmr and the posts will go back to normal. Anyways, enjoy this one!!

Warnings: death, car crashes, loss of baby

Epiphany

--

Aelin’s hands were drenched in blood.

Her heart rate picked up, and although she was trained not to lose focus, not to let emotions take over, Aelin could feel the panic creeping into her mind. She didn’t know that to do, not this time, and that final sense of powerlessness was gut wrenching.

She had felt that many times before, but this one situation was different.

This was a kid.

“Doctor Whitethorn.” Aelin spoke, raising her eyes from the little girl on the operating table. She stared at man in front of her, only his deep pine green eyes showing above his mask. He didn’t even blink at what was happening, didn’t even comment on the slight tremor on her voice. He just looked back down, an almost imperceptible crease forming between his brows.

She had gotten a position at Orynth Medical Center a few months ago, and since she had been planning on going back home from Rifthold for ages, she took up the opportunity. The surgical department was amazing, twice as big as Rifthold’s one and three times better equipped. Everything in the hospital looked new and well treated, and the doctors gave their lives to make sure all the patients were treated well. Everyone had been welcoming, and she already had friends at the hospital.

Whitethorn, however, wasn’t one of them.

It’s not that Aelin didn’t like him, or that he didn’t like her. It was just that he was an extremely reserved and quiet man. No one in their department really knew the guy, and he had only a handful of colleagues he bothered talking sometimes in the whole hospital. He and Aelin had had numerous surgeries together since she transferred and he was always professionally polite, never undermining her work or suggestions even though he was years her senior and definitely had been to more surgeries than she had. No, Doctor Whitethorn was a good work partner, just not a friend. Not that Aelin cared, to be honest.

Although having friends at the hospital and a good work partner were good things, that really wasn’t the thing she mostly focused on. That particular thing would be the fact that she was finally working at the OMC. It was what she had dreamed since she was fourteen and had decided she was going to be a surgeon, and after seventeen she was finally there.

Aelin loved being a surgeon. She loved the challenge, loved the science of it. Above all, she loved helping. After losing her parents at the age of thirteen, Aelin had felt an immense and almost incurable sense of defeat and powerlessness. The type of feeling that made your whole body seem heavy and light at the same time, like you were drowning into your own emotions and everything you wanted to do was to curl in your bed and try to keep your head above the water just enough to survive. She had hated that feeling, and hated death.

The moment her parents died in a car accident and she survived, Aelin Galathynius decided she hated death.

She hated that there was no coming back. Hated that there was nothing left after it. She hated the fear that her love for her parents would diminish after the years wore on her, hated the fear that she would forget her mom’s laugh or her dad’s smiles. She had videos and photos, yes, but then there was the fact that she would never feel her dad’s embrace again, or her mom’s soft fingers through her golden waves. The more Aelin thought of it, the more she realized how much of her parents she had lost that day, how much of it would only be a dying ember in her memory instead of a lively flame in her life.

And so, at the age of fourteen, Aelin had had her first epiphany. Her parents couldn’t have been saved, but she would give her life and soul in making sure that no one would go through the pain and deep mourning she went through.

But now it was happening again.

As Aelin looked at the little girl on the table, she had to bite her lower lip to keep the emotions in. She had to focus solely on the technical part of it, because if she didn’t, Aelin would picture herself on that table, small and fragile as she had been almost twenty years ago.

She and Rowan, along with their team, were trying frantically to stop the bleeding. Frantically trying to wipe it out so they could see the organs, could see what needed to be fixed. She heard some residents talking among themselves, heard Whitethorn giving them orders. Everything was too loud and too muffled at the same time, the beeping of the machines wails against her ears.

“Doc, I think she’s crashing out.” Her throat was burning, and Aelin had the urge to scream. “Whitethorn, I think—“

She choked on her own words. There were things that even she couldn’t speak about. That she couldn’t say out loud.

The girl was bleeding out, and there was nothing left to do. It was supposed to be a happy day, Aelin had heard the mom lamenting as they rushed the girl in. It was her birthday, and they had spent the whole day at the beach celebrating. They were leaving to go get dinner when it happened. The crash had been straight into the back of the car, where she had been sitting, and there was only as much as they could do to try to save her.

So Aelin watched her breathing in and watched her breathing out.

Watched her bleeding out.

And watched her die.

The moment the machine made that hellish sound, Aelin just wanted to lay down and cry.

“Time of death, seven forty three, pm.” Doctor Whitethorn announced, taking a step back from the body. Aelin was still holding the little girl’s body, her eyes fixated on her. “I’ll let the residents close her up, but Doctor Allsbrook if you could please supervise it.”

Aelin didn’t know if he had given her any orders. She just stopped listening, only half paying attention to the people walking around her. It was so different from most days, the days when they succeeded. Normally, the residents would be excited about doing some work, but today they just seemed… tired.

Aelin was also tired.

“Galathynius?” Aelin felt a big hand on her shoulder, making her turn her head to the side to encounter Whitethorn’s eyes.

She shook herself, taking several steps back. She didn’t say a word, didn’t reply to his silent inquire. She just rushed into the cleaning room, taking off all the bloodied scrubs and gloves. She ripped her mask away from her face, not looking back at the door that would take to the operation room.

She knew she should tell the family, knew she should be professional, knew that death was a natural thing.

Knew that it came with the job.

Knew all that, but it didn’t make it hurt less.

So she just exited the room, almost running to one of the most silent and secluded hallways in the whole building. It was mostly used to storage of tables and chairs, and doctors rarely used it. Patients weren’t even allowed.

She didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to deal with anything. She just wanted silence for five minutes while fighting a pain that threatened to drag her to a place she had spent so long trying to crawl out of.

She rested against one of the walls, slowly sitting down. She hugged her knees, putting her head down and finally letting the burning tears fall.

It wasn’t that she had never lost a patient before. But car crashes and kids always got to her, and both together were enough to make her almost reconsider everything. Looking at the girl made her remember when it was her parents on those tables, both not coming back. Hearing the mom’s screams made her think of what would have happened if she had died and her parents hadn’t.

Made her wonder if she would have preferred that.

Aelin lost track of time, sitting there for minutes or maybe hours. She only bothered to raise her head when she heard quiet and steady footsteps coming her direction. She felt more than saw a body sitting by her side, and a small part of her mustered energy enough to feel slightly embarrassed by the fact Doctor Whitethorn was seeing her like this.

She was also confused why he was there. They weren’t friends, had never talked outside of work hours about, well, work. Actually, Aelin didn’t think she had ever said his first name, or heard him saying hers.

“Does it get easier, Rowan?” Aelin asked, resting her head against the wall. Since she arrived, she had made sure to always seem confident and professional. She was young and a woman, she didn’t need more reasons to be undermined. But she was so tired right now, and he had been there with her.

“Some do.” He said, his voice cold as always, but without its harshness. “Ones like today? No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Which ones do?” Aelin said, turning her head to Rowan.

“When the person is old, when you know they lived a good and full life. When you know that death is a better alternative than living forever in pain.” He shrugged, sighing. “Death is never easy but some… some are easier.”

“Do you wish all of them were?” Aelin wasn’t thinking about what she was asking, and maybe she would regret this later. She had never thought she would have such conversation with Rowan Whitethorn.

“I think that for some people, death is technical. Not ideal, but it happens, so what?” He rested his head against the wall too. “But I think that if death doesn’t affect you anymore, you have been numbed by all of this. And it doesn’t matter what they tell you in med school, Aelin, feeling are always important when you work daily with people’s lives.”

Aelin felt tears pricking her eyes, and she bit her cheeks. “She was a kid.”

He nodded mournfully. “Kids are never easy.”

“I don’t know her name.” She whispered.

“Elena.” Rowan said, empathy showing on his green eyes. “Her name was Elena and today was her eight birthday.”

At that, Aelin felt the tears falling down her face again. Normally, she would have wiped them off, especially because she was in front if her senior coworker. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it, and she had the feeling Rowan didn’t really mind it. He just let her cry, keeping her silent company as she felt the tears taking away some of the weight off of her body.

“Aren’t you gonna give a hard time about professionalism?” Aelin asked when the tears ended, her mind a lot clearer.

She could have sworn Rowan’s mouth pulled into a small smile. “You’re a doctor, Aelin. A human doctor, not a robot. I’m not gonna fight with you about being sad about a kid passing away in front of you. You are alive and dealing with death daily, of course you will fear and hate it. I just hope you don’t forget to enjoy the rest of the job or even your life because of it.”

Something in those words made Aelin relax, all the tension slowly leaving her body. She was still mourning the little girl, but it didn’t feel like it was going to crush her. It had been so long since Aelin had stopped therapy, so long since someone reminded her that she was still supposed to live.

“Have you ever cried?”

“Yes, of course.” Rowan’s brows furrowed. “Something med school doesn’t cover is that the patients, the people we have to save, are someone’s daughter or mother. I mean, they do, but also don’t. Speaking doesn’t cover a shred of the feeling that losing a patient is. I have been here for six years as a doctor, longer than that because of residency,, and some cases still manage to get to me.”

Aelin nodded, understanding what he meant even though she had been there for less than two years plus residency.

“My parents died in a car accident when I was fourteen.” She blurted out. She was a very secretive person about her past, and couldn’t understand what had gotten into her to tell Rowan who was basically a stranger. “I— I was there. Car crashes usually get to me very personally.”

“Oh.” That was all he said about it, and something warmed inside Aelin’s chest. She hated all the pity glances and sorries she always got whenever she told it to someone. She hated the I-understand-yous. Rowan just sitting in silence with her, keeping her company while she recomposed herself was everything she wished people would do. She didn’t need pity, only empathy. “Is that why you became a doctor?”

“I hated death, so I decided to go into the field that would help me stop it.”

He nodded, spreading his legs in front of him. “My ex girlfriend got pregnant when we were seventeen. We were young but I was still ecstatic about being a dad. The baby died during birth, and that moment I think I hated death too. I was going to business school and changed to pre med the day I had forces enough to get out of bed. Kids usually get to me very personally.”

Aelin’s throat tightened at that, and she almost started crying again. Gods, she needed to get a grip on herself.

Just as he had sat there silently as she cried, Aelin sat silently as he mourned his baby. She laid her head on his shoulder, and Rowan adjusted himself to make her more comfortable.

They just sat there in silent, both lost in their own thoughts but keeping each other company.

Maybe she should have tried befriending Rowan before. It would make sense that he was the one who really understood her— they were both doctors, both in the same department. Aelin had thought that because their personalities were so different, they couldn’t really have anything to talk about.

Apparently she was wrong.

Aelin might even have dozed off for twenty minutes, her dreams filled with the faces of her parents and Elena and every single other patients she had lost. In her dreams, Aelin could hear Rowan’s words over and over about how she was alive and how she had to enjoy life even if she feared and hated death constantly. Even with the faces of the people she lost taunting her, Aelin wasn’t nervous or tense or sad, Rowan’s words soothing her even in her dreams.

And like it had happened when she was fourteen, Aelin had her second epiphany. She had the sudden and deep realization that life was fleeting. She knew that, of course, since she worked with life and death everyday, but she had never actually understood it. She realized that Rowan had been right since the beginning, deaths are easier to accept when you knew a person lived their life to the fullest, and that’s what Aelin wanted to herself.

“Galathynius.” Rowan muttered, and Aelin snapped her eyes open. “Time to go home.”

She took her head from his shoulders, staring at him as he got up. “You want me to talk to the parents with you?”

“I already did that.”

She nodded, smiling a little at him. “Thank you.”

Rowan scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t worry. Really.”

Aelin got up, running her hands through her hair to pull it from her bun. “You’re nicer than I thought you would be.”

Rowan scoffed, walking by her side as they went to the lockers to get their belongings and go home. “Wouldn’t be the first person at the hospital to think I’m an asshole, don’t worry.”

Aelin laughed, attracting the eyes of a few nurses and doctors standing nearby. They watched as Aelin talked to Rowan, their faces drawn in shock. Rowan tensed, moving his shoulders uncomfortably.

“I didn’t think you were an asshole. Just quiet.” Aelin smiled humorously. “And obviously not a great appreciator of being the center of attention.”

Rowan relaxed slightly, smiling a bit at her. “Different from you, I assume.”

“I am a young soul.”

“Are you implying I am old?”

“You are six years older than me.” She was fully smiling now.

“Five. You’re on your first year, I’m on my sixth. It’s a five year difference.” He was smiling more broadly now.

“I skipped eight grade.” She smirked at him, dramatically throwing her hair as their entered the locker room. “A genius, I know.”

Rowan snorted, grabbing his things as Aelin grabbed hers. She finished before he did, and a strange feeling took upon her. Should she wait for him? Juts because he was friendly towards her, did that mean they were becoming friends? And even if they were, was she supposed to walk out with him? Maybe he was only being nice to take her out of her misery, and honestly didn’t actually want to spend time with her.

Aelin considered only waving goodbye and going to her car, but the prospect of being alone made her nervous. It’s not like she felt as if she was gonna drown if she was left alone with her thoughts anymore, but having company as a distraction was nice. She didn’t want to go to her apartment and eat takeout alone just yet. She wanted to live a little, take her mind out of work and enjoy normal, simple moments.

Maybe that’s why, without thinking further, Aelin walked to the door and stopped, turning back to Rowan. “Hey, wanna grab a beer or something? I don’t want to go home and drown in my own misery just yet.”

She should have been more delicate about it, but Rowan had seen her cry and talk about her past trauma already. He certainly could guess what Aelin would do if she was left alone.

He closed his locker, putting on his glasses and a jacket. He stared at her, giving another one of his small smiles before gesturing forward with a hand. “Lead the way, Galathynius.”

Tags:

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#rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin angst #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin oneshot #rowaelin #rowanaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass au #throne of glass oneshot #tog fanfic #tog #tog fanfiction #angst #mardu writes #writing #answered #rowaelin ts #rowaelin epiphany #epiphany

[cudan2]

Starbucks and Skin Grafts

Spring Break Shadowing Part 2

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,206

Summary: You’re starting your second day of shadowing with Dr. Cullen and get to learn more about him.

A/N: I underestimated the amount of research I’d have to do for this series woops. I’m pre-dent and not pre-med, so if anyone here is actually a doctor or a med student or even knows more about medicine than I do, feel free to tell me what details I should change! (I really did try my best though, but it’s turning out to be more Grey’s Anatomy-esque) 

Anyways, this is #4 on my headcanon list. 

Masterlist

XXX

When the train stops at the 168th Street Station, you make your first task of the day to find Doctor Cullen. The campus is growing to be familiar territory, but it’s still massive and you find yourself getting lost on the main surgical floor despite already getting directions from a receptionist. Your frustration begin growing as you turn another corner and realize you’re still as lost as before.

“Just the person I’ve been looking for!” a familiar voice calls out. You turn to look over your shoulder and find the doctor you’d spent the last fifteen minutes searching for. He’s wearing a white coat and lacking the scrub cap from the previous day. So he’s blonde, you notice, not a single strand out of place. You take several steps towards him to meet him halfway.

“Good morning, Doctor Cullen. I’m sorry for not meeting with you earlier. It might have been a little difficult to track you down,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Don’t worry, it can certainly take weeks to learn how to navigate this hospital. I’ve just finished doing my morning rounds, so there is about twenty minutes before I meet for a pre-op. Why don’t we grab some coffee and get to know each other a bit more?” Before you can even give an answer, your stomach growls loudly and you mentally berate yourself for not eating anything beforehand. “Perhaps a little less coffee and some more food would be beneficial for you instead,” Doctor Cullen chuckles.

By the time you reach the Starbucks on the first floor of the hospital, you’ve learned the basics about him and vice versa. He’s a plastic surgeon, this was his first year as an attending, he moved here about five months ago, actually started working here four months ago, and attended University of Washington in Seattle for both his undergrad and medical school.

Meanwhile, you currently attend school away from home at New York University, you’re in your third year of college, majoring in biology, minoring in psychology, and on track to graduate a semester early.

“Hey, Doc! The usual as always?” you hear as you make it to the front of the Starbucks line with Doctor Cullen.

“Good morning, Emily. Yes, the usual as always.”

“Sounds good! Will that be all?” Both the barista and the doctor look towards at you.

You splutter out your intended order and lean towards Doctor Cullen as Emily is writing your name on a cup. “You really don’t have to pay for the food and stuff. I mean, I brought cash so–”

“Think of it as compensation. I can’t imagine how many people actually enjoy being up this early in the morning, especially seeing how this is your spring break. Besides, I think you’ll find you need the energy to keep up with me today. I must warn you though, it won’t all lap appys and fun like with Doctor Stone.”  

“I like a good challenge,” you smirk at him. He gazes back at you with a twinkle in his eyes and a soft smile and you can’t help the fact that your heart starts beating just a little faster.  

Another barista call your names out and you’re suddenly reminded that this is the real world.

“Thanks for the breakfast,” you quickly say, breaking eye contact and grabbing the orders from the counter. Stop thinking about how pretty his eyes are, you tell yourself, even if they do look like pure amber. Doctor Cullen follows suite and goes to grab his grande-sized cup.

“Careful, wouldn’t want to burn the surgeon hands,” you notice the amount steam coming out of the lid and hand him a sleeve for the cup. When he accepts the sleeve from your outstretched arm, you see a peculiar expression on his face and hear a soft chuckle from him before he thanks you. It’s almost as though he knew something you didn’t.

The two of you walk back to his office so he can grab his notes on the patient. On the way there, he tells you more about his daily life as a plastic surgeon as you eat. He’s done so many different procedures that you can barely keep track of the list. There’s a lot less liposuctions and facelifts – those were for the cosmetic surgeons – and more reconstructions and repairs in his line of work.    

“The patient you’re about to meet was in a car accident two years ago,” Doctor Cullen explains. “He received extensive burns to the face and neck, all of which have scarred over now. Our goal is to reduce the scarring and give him back some mobility.”

Before you can ask any questions, Doctor Cullen is already knocking on the patient’s door and entering. The door opens to reveal the patient sitting up in bed along and a woman standing beside him. The other two doctors in the room wore ceil blue scrubs – residents, you note, following Doctor Cullen into the room.  

“There’s the man of the hour!” The woman exclaims.

“Mom!” The patient lets out an exasperated groan.

“What? As if you aren’t excited to see the handsome doctor either, Tyler!” You try your best not to laugh but can see the two residents smother their own smiles behind fake coughs. Doctor Cullen is the one to accept the indirect compliment and bids both the patient and his mother a hello.

“Tyler, I have a student shadowing me for the week, if you wouldn’t mind another pair of eyes in the room?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind. I’ve definitely experienced a whole lot worse,” Tyler responds.

“Perfect. Doctor Wang, would you present the case?”

One of the residents looks up from her charts and begins reciting the details as if it were second nature. “Tyler Sardella, age 24, scheduled for scar revision.”

“And what procedures will we be performing today?”

“We’ll be planting an autograft and doing a Z-plasty to minimize the appearance of scarring. Skin grafting will help give a bigger range of motion in the neck, accelerate the healing process, and prevent any future scarring.” Her words exude confidence and you hope to sound like that one day. Skin graft and Z-plasty... you’re not entirely familiar with the terms but store them in the back of your head. After all, you’re here to learn.

Doctor Cullen gives a nod of approval to Doctor Wang and turns back to Tyler. “Tyler, do you have any last-minute questions before we send you to the OR?”

“Nope! I’m so ready to turn my head 180 degrees again.”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you soon then.”

You give a quick nod to Tyler and his mother as both Doctor Cullen and you take your leave. The two residents reconvene with their attending several minutes later and exchange words before they both head off to prepare for the surgery.

You stand around awkwardly for a moment as Doctor Cullen looks over the charts. He suddenly calls your name out, eyes still scanning over his notes.

Your response is to stand up just slightly straighter as you say, “Yes?”

“What procedures will we be performing on Tyler?”

Well shit, you certainly weren’t expecting him to ask you that.

“Um, you’re planting a skin graft, an autograft to be more specific, and then doing a Z-plasty.” You’re unsure and your voice shows it. Of course you could regurgitate words, but it’s hard to explain any further when you didn’t know the meanings to those words.

Doctor Cullen looks up from his charts with that twinkle in his eyes again and a smirk playing on his lips. “Correct!” he exclaims and laughs when he sees the petrified expression you’re wearing from being caught off guard. “Y/N, I did warn you it wasn’t going to be easy. However, I may have failed to mention it was going to be me making your experience here more difficult.”

“Why though?”

“What can I say? I like to keep my students on their toes. It keeps things interesting.”

You huffed and followed him to the OR. Challenge accepted.

Scrubbed – check, PPE – check, scrub cap – well, that was for Doctor Cullen, but check. He’s still scrubbing when you hear him.

“Are you sure you want to be in there? It’s going to take approximately three hours.”

“You told me that,” you remind him. “And I told you that I like a challenge.”

“Alright, but please let me know if you feel any fatigue. I can ask one of the nurses to bring in a chair or you can step out for some air–”

“I will be fine,” you insist. “I sit all day in class, standing for three hours will be a good change of pace.” The concern etched into his face is almost endearing, but really, you’re going to be fine.

Everything and everyone is prepped and ready to go by the time you two enter the OR. You make sure to stand in an area that gives you a perfect view of the surgery but would not get in the way of anyone else. Doctor Cullen has his loupes on and you start feeling the high that comes with observing any sort of surgical procedure. It’s not every day that a mere undergrad like you can witness this kind of stuff.

Two hours later, you are still engrossed in the surgery. There’s 80s music playing in the background at the request of the two residents from earlier, who are now chatting away. About fifteen minutes in, Doctor Cullen had properly introduced you to his residents, Lily Wang and Jaime Montes.

Doctor Stone was great and all, but there is something about the blonde doctor that really makes him stand out as a surgeon to you. He’s able to cut and suture whilst explaining the entire procedure to you. He makes all of this seem so... effortless. Although Lily and Jaime are working as much as Doctor Cullen, it’s clear who the leader in the room is.

“You said you went to University of Washington for your undergrad and med school. What made you decide to work here instead of staying in Seattle?” you ask Doctor Cullen suddenly. The conversations around you die down. It seems you aren’t the only one curious about the surgeon.

“I suppose it felt like the right decision at the time.” He glances hesitantly at you from the head of the table before looking back to his work. You can tell there’s more to the story. “I previously worked in a hospital in a small town called Forks.”

“Forks? As in the thing you eat with?” Jaime asks and everyone around you laughs.

“Yes, Forks. It had less than 4,000 inhabitants, so you can imagine the lack of cases like these. The other residents would have gone crazy. It was peaceful for some time but I was ready to move on. It’s a silly notion now that I say it out loud, but I wanted to make an impact on the people I treated.”

“You weren’t making a difference in Forks,” you say. It isn’t a question, but a statement.

“Exactly. One of my deciding factors in working for Columbia was its resources and size. Here, I could save more people to the best of my ability with the most advance resources available.”

Once the surgery reaches its conclusion, you go scrub out with Doctor Cullen as everyone else stays to finish up. You unceremoniously flop onto the bench outside the OR, propriety be damned. Your feet are sore and you wish you could be wearing scrubs and sneakers instead of business-casual clothing.

A water bottle enters your peripheral and you look up to the person handing it to you. Doctor Cullen’s scrub cap is gone once again and his blonde hair is slightly astray.

“Thanks,” is all you can say as you grab the bottle and take a nice, long drink from it. “Nice hair by the way.” Doctor Cullen has the audacity to look down rather bashfully and runs a hand through his hair. Great, now he looks even more attractive.

“You survived,” he says.    

“I did.”

“I’m impressed.”

You let out a snort.

“You’re impressed? You, Lily, and Jaime were the ones doing everything. I literally stood there for three and a half hours! I should be the one that’s impressed.”

“You showed resilience. I have a feeling most students your age would have given in for a chair at least.”

“Yeah, I did tell you I like a challenge,” you point out, even if you did feel like never standing again.

“You also asked very good questions, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You have a lot of potential in this field whether you think it or not. Now go get some lunch, you deserve a break.” He sticks out a hand and you grab it to get up. Damn, his hands are cold. “I have some paperwork to file, so I’ll catch up with you later.”

“I’ll see you then,” you say and begin walking in the direction of the cafeteria.

“Y/N!” you hear him halfway down the hallway and turn to look over your shoulder. “How are we treating the donor site wound?”

You decide to keep walking.

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #carlisle cullen imagine #twilight imagines #twilight reboot #twilight revival #twilight saga #twilight #I also never intended on this part to be so long #it just happened #i know nothing about plastic surgery #please do not attack me on my lack of medical knowledge #i only know teeth #doctor daddy cullen #twilight fanfic

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 59

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 26. Go to previous. Go to next. TW: Body horror, nightmare sequence, unreality, incongruous chronology. Self-absorbed.

Lol, we haven’t had a flashback episode yet in Second Instar, have we? Have fun, ‘cause ‘Choly’s not. In the future this becomes another installment in ‘Choly’s Rexford Press Originals. (:

_________________________________

As he muddled through prescription fulfillment, Carey looked over his shoulder yet again. He saw the customer he anticipated finally entered the drugstore, and hastily finished up his current order. The thirty-some man he’d called earlier that morning had dusty blond side-parted hair, and stood as short as Carey, but seemed more sawed off than grown that way. Owing to the nature of the medication, as the head chemist, only he could take the customer. He pulled the pencil box size prescription carton from the cage, and confirmed it did in fact indicate it was for ‘Sal Mendez.’ He watched Angel busying itself in the front end straightening aisles, and waited until Sal was next in line before hopping onto the other register to wave him over. Mentally unable to set down the box on the counter, he kept it in both hands.

“Apologies, again, Mister Mendez, how it took weeks to get this filled. Calmex is one of the most rationed chems in the country at the moment.”

“I know. I know. But it. I talked to my doc.” Sal frowned to himself, and repeatedly smoothed at his short sleeve silk button down shirt as he eyed the various hard candies at the front counter at length. He eventually looked up at his chemist with a crumpled resignation. “The Milque wasn’t cutting it. You... you sure you don’t need it more? You look peaked, Doc.”

Carey glanced down, at the lab coat tossed over his favorite ochre jumpsuit, the cobalt scarf tucked like a cravat into his collar, and his navy oxfords. He lingered on the unfamiliar braces on both wrists and both ankles, but readily dismissed their explanation as unimportant. What mattered was that he didn’t look the part of his vocation, and a head chemist had to command reassurance and reliability. It was one thing to be haggard, but another altogether if he looked it. Well, that just wouldn’t do! He thought to what Hawthorne could usually put his hands on pretty quick, and weighed his choices against what he thought Sal might find most useful. With a big, wide grin, he straightened and patted at the Milquetoast display on the counter.

“Milquetoast is completely and totally safe. Fantastic for insomnia, shakes and nerves, headaches, nausea, you name it. But... I wouldn’t recommend using it alongside this prescription. Or with alcohol, were you to have access to any.” He leaned in and turned off his customer service voice, to discuss the consultation more privately. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you some Day Tripper, if you can water me down. I’ll even take moonshine at this point, Sal. Between you and me, I thought I was done having this war effort kill me inside-out.”

Sal’s jaw dropped a moment before he, too, leaned in with a nervous smile.

“For you, Mister Carey, I will find you something very nice. Really, though. Should I be worried? To take this? My doctor said it’s tranquilizer. She explained it all to me, but that was weeks ago...”

“Alan!”

Gretchen Nordstern didn’t seem all that gangling from where she sat on the far counter in a Peter Pan collar tea dress with the confidence to match a pair of trousers, chewing a lit cigarillo and taking notes against her lap with the phone receiver wedged between her shoulder and cheek. Her low, dark bun wore a colorful crocheted snood.

“You’ve spent half an hour with that client.” She didn’t have to look up to impose, waving him off with her free hand. “Let Mary and Trudy handle front end already.”

Carey hemmed a spell, unsure how that could be true. But he didn’t want to question his boss. He stared off in her direction as he addressed Sal.

“I, I’m sorry, Mister Mendez. I’ve got others to see to. If you’ve any questions...”

When he turned to his customer, he trailed off. Sal had vanished.

Gretchen shoved into his hands a letterhead with a handful of scripts. He stuttered, glancing it over. Med-X. Clarimentin. Immunoluxe. His eyes glazed over the usual orders until he encountered the words Psycho (Cyclomorphine Chloride). His heart hiccuped, and his eyes briefly lost focus.

“Wh-- Gretchen, please. Please. Please tell me this is some kind of-- How did this-- How did-- It’s on the--” He cleared his throat and whet his lips, but it didn’t help. He shakily pointed to the line on her invoice. “How is this on the market, ma’am.”

“Don’t be such a worrywort. It’s government approved. It underwent rigorous testing before it hit the market. What could possibly be wrong with the stuff!”

He couldn’t argue without breaching military confidentiality. Walden Drugs had to make ends meet somehow, right? And if whoever was getting the Psycho had a prescription for it, at the very least they’d be taking it under a physician’s supervision. He knew the dwindling prescription numbers didn’t mean people weren’t getting sick or injured less often: it meant more people were dying. Between the malcontent of the Canadian annexation, the endless crisis against the Chinese causing the deepest economic depression the country had ever suffered, and the mounting volume of riots taking place on home soil, the United States teetered on a second Civil War. And yet, these factors didn’t explicate in his mind why people had begun to drop like flies as of late.

Usually hear from Jacob by now.

He frowned as he dialed the Lexington branch to call in the Psycho prescription order, and got to completing the invoice Gretchen had given him. He and Jacob had planned that morning to have lunch together at the malt shop. He decided to go check on him and Sal. He hung up his lab coat in the mudroom, and waved to his coworkers to let the two ladies know he’d be stepping out.

“Angel, I’m going on break.”

“Right along, then, Sir!”

The Mister Handy followed at his side.

He popped his head into the small bed and breakfast across the way, wedged between the Wright’s Inn at the corner opposite the drugstore, and the bookstore further down. When he didn’t see Sal, he approached the check-in and asked after him of the young attendant in a chignon and sheath dress. She indicated no one had seen him since the morning. He declined her offer to take a message for him, shook his head, thanked her, and left.

It sat uneasy with him, but he chalked it up to still feeling awful about the local call for cyclomorphine. Nothing that he wanted as far away from him as possible ever stayed very far away for long.

Once a Pick-R-Up passed, he jaywalked with Angel to the hardware store at the corner. Only a few customers loitered, some genuinely lost without advice from an employee, others genuinely considering unattended theft. He got to the foot of the employees-only stairwell, but stopped short of scaling it. His gut quivered.

“Angel, be a dear. Pop up and see if you can find Jacob.”

“Certainly!” It came back quickly. “Not a soul on the roof, Sir.”

He frowned and gestured that they leave. His leg felt tight and stiff, but he shrugged it off.

Hm. Was I limping earlier? No, I’ve had this limp a long time already.

On his way back down the street, Carey glanced in the windows of the malt shop. Jacob wasn’t there either, nor Sal. Jacob’s car was still parked outside the hardware store. The repairman was disinclined to go anywhere on foot all that much if he could avoid it, so Carey doubted his roommate had gone home for lunch without saying anything about it. He gave up on the idea of malt shop food, as he preferred to share it. Instead, he sat down across the street from the drugstore, on the Wright’s Inn’s spacious porch, with a Nuka Cherry from their vending machine and an order of three arancini from Piretti’s Bakery. Sometimes the texture of the rice balls reminded him of ezhiki, and he got a bit homesick.

I should just stick to Melancholia. There’s only one flavor of toska to it.

He noticed the construction sounds in front of the municipal plutonium well had ceased. He glanced up with his mouth full to see there were no workers in the street. He supposed it was their lunchtime, too. When he finished eating, he required Angel’s help to stand again.

Am I starting to feel my age, or am I just that full?

He returned to work. Once he had on his coat again and come back out to the front end, he saw some kids poorly picking the lock on the adult care case. He side-eyed Angel, who handed him the keys. Spinning the wrist coil on a finger, he strolled up with confidence that belied his limp.

“Hey there, gentlemen! Looking to buy some No-Gesta today, I see. A fine choice in preventative care!”

The boys sputtered in embarrassment at being caught trying to shoplift. Angel simply hovered behind them to cut off their back escape route out of the drugstore, while Carey withdrew an entire case of product. They followed the veteran in service uniform speechlessly to the counter. The older one scrambled through his pockets along the way, desperate to figure out if he even had enough to buy what they’d intended to steal.

“I’ll tell you what!” the chemist announced--in his stress of recognizing he’d put on the wrong white coat, a little too loudly--though they seemed largely alone all the same. “They’re usually fifteen dollars each, but if you buy six, I’ll give ‘em to you for seventy-five.”

“Gee, that’s awful generous of you,” the older one started, urging the younger one to play along, so as to curb the possibility Carey might call the police on them. “Bruce, you wanna go in on this with me fifty-fifty?”

“Only if that’s the only thing-- never mind. Lemme count how much I got.” He produced a fistful of wadded papers Carey could tell weren’t money. “I’ve got twenty-eight bucks. What about you, Jeb?”

“Thirteen. Awful.”

Carey smiled with a twisted, cool benevolence as he set two out of the case and nudged what was left toward the boys.

“How about just four, then. Hm?” He wagged an eyebrow and held out his upturned palm expectantly. They uncertainly exchanged all their cash for the prophylactic kits with entendred packaging which resembled an exclamation point but reminded of something else entirely. He tucked them into a paper bag and folded it off lackadaisically, then handed it to them. “Off you are, then!”

Mary walked up soon after he shooed off the boys. The older squared, thick woman, in a pencil dress and cardigan, held a hand to her mouth to hush herself, aghast.

“You sold No-Gesta to some high schoolers?”

“You’d rather they have stolen it?” He shrugged at her. “Age means nothing whether someone needs that sort of care. They’ll copulate, whether or not they can get things like No-Gesta--and wouldn’t you rather they did so safely?” He tucked the vaguely paper-like wad into the register, and his glasses dipped off his nose, caught from falling by his eyeglass chain. “Besides, a sale’s a sale, and customers get scarce.”

Why haven’t I been more worried where everybody’s gotten off to?

He looked out to find Jacob’s car had been left, abandoned and askew, run up onto the sidewalk. Like it was, morning of the bombs. The cognitive disconnect insisted he had no idea what he could have meant. He slipped his glasses back in place.

“Hey, Angel...” He cleared his throat. “Have you-- Have you seen Jacob?”

“What a silly question, Sir! Just look down!”

He did, and succumbed to fever, short breath, and sweats. His legs writhed, granular, tumescent, and grotesque, more like a filariasis than the countless bodies he knew comprised them. The tightness and swelling paralyzed him from the waist down, and kept him upright in substitute of bones or any meaningful ligature. He identified Duchesne among the clumped, corpuscular rivulets, and choked up.

He looked up. Gretchen, Mary, and Trudy were nowhere to be seen.

He didn’t have to look down again to understand he’d soaked them up as well. He dry heaved, to no effect. Desperate to reach help from someone, anyone, he tried to walk to the phone at the other end of the counter, only to fall after a single step. And he continued falling, into himself, having become an infinite labyrinth of flesh, a Klein bottle of grief.

Concord’s empty because I subsumed everyone. He cried, slipping through narrow, trembling corridors of sopping tissue. I’m the sole survivor of Vault 111 because I stole survival opportunity from them all. I stole this from my customers and coworkers. From my neighbors. From Jacob. Everyone gave their lives, so I could keep living.

And for what!

Go to Next »»»

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 #fo4 fanfic #sole survivor #the anatomy of melancholy #melancholy #angel #mister handy #concord #nightmare sequence #body horror #flashback

[cyi-can-you-imagine]

Starved (Chapter 19)

Chapter 19 The Beach

Dean’s gun was in his hand two seconds after he opened the door. “Sammy?” Dean yelled in horrified concern. John turned to look at him, dropping his hand from Sam’s throat. He smiled, snapped his fingers, and disappeared.

Sam was pressed up against the headboard, as if a hand still held him there. His eyes were closed tight. The moment Dean reached his brother, Sam let out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Mine.” The whisper Dean heard next to his ear sent shivers down his spine. He knew that voice.

He felt hands push him back, away from Sam.

“What the hell?” came Bobby’s yell from behind him.

The air around Sam seemed to move. To pulse. He was no longer yelling, but Dean could see him writhing on the bed, trying to get away from unseen hands holding him down.

“Dean!” Sam yelled.

It was only a few seconds after John disappeared that Dean lunged forward, but it seemed like much, much longer. Bobby had grabbed his rifle and it was at this point he held the gun up. He pointed it directly at Sam, and fired.

The rock salt capsule hit the headboard just behind Sam’s left ear. The area next to him was suddenly filled with greyish-black smoke, which disappeared just as quickly. Sam, released from his father’s grip, slumped onto the bed.

“Fuck,” Bobby whispered.

Dean immediately scooped Sam into his arms, but Sam was non responsive. He was breathing, but would not open his eyes. His body shook.

Dean closed his eyes as he held his brother close, slowly turning him so he could look at his shoulder.

“Please. Please no. Please let it not be there. Please let John have failed.”

But Dean knew. He knew it would be there. Sam’s left shoulder came into view, and there, carved into his brother’s beautiful skin, was the same symbol that was carved into John’s. Blood dripped down Sam’s back from the wound, and Dean just grabbed the sheets beside him to clean him up.

“Bobby. Uh…Med Kit?” he didn’t really know how to speak right now.

Bobby didn’t either, obviously, since Dean had to ask him three times to hurry up.

Sam lay warm and limp in Dean’s arms. His breathing was slow and steady, as if he were sleeping.

Dean cleaned the injury with antiseptic and put a bandage on it.

“When’s your witch friend coming?” His voice was calm. Stoic. He didn’t even look at Bobby.

“Tomorrow morning. He’s already on his way. So is Rufus. And he’ll be here in about,” Bobby looked down at his watch and frowned. “An hour.” He looked back up at his boys and wanted to cry.

Dean was holding Sam, his eyes looking straight ahead, holding tightly to Sam’s limp body. He put kiss after kiss into his brother’s hair. He whispered into Sam’s ear. Bobby couldn’t hear what Dean was saying, but he was pretty sure he knew anyway.

“I’m going to get some clean sheets. I’ll uh, be right back.” Bobby left, taking the med kit with him.

Dean continued whispering softly. “I love you so much Sammy. I’ll never leave you alone again. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. I swear, when I get my hands on him…”

Sam stirred slowly in his arms. His words were so quiet, so painfully whispered, Dean almost thought he was imagining it.

“He’s already here.”

At the same moment, Dean heard a large commotion downstairs. He turned away from Sam and towards the door.

Downstairs, the front door slammed open. “Where the fuck is he?” The voice was not angry, but concerned. Dean jumped a little at the fierceness in the voice, but also he felt relieved. Help was here. Rufus was here. He heard Bobby chuckle. “Upstairs Rufus. Be careful, Dean’s not doin’ so well…” their voices faded away as Dean turned back towards his brother.

“Come on Sammy, wake up, come back to me.” But Sam did not stir, nor did he speak again.

***

Ten minutes later, Rufus came upstairs, a cup in his hands. Dean could tell it was steaming.

“Hey Dean,”

Rufus had dark eyes. Kind of almost terrifying. He was a badass, never took no shit from no one. But Dean knew him better than that. Rufus had a heart. It had just been broken so many times, he didn’t usually let it show.

Heartless was easier.

“This is for you, Dean. Drink up.” Dean wanted to ask what it was, but you just didn’t question Rufus. Dean trusted him completely, and knew there was a reason for everything he did. But Rufus sensed his hesitation.

“To calm your nerves. It’ll help. Drink. It doesn’t taste good when it’s cold.”

Dean placed Sam gently on the bed, making sure both his knee and shoulder were in comfortable positions. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind Sam’s hair and turned back to Rufus.

He took the cup and smelled it, startled a little at the smell. It smelled sweet. He looked at Rufus and raised his eyebrows. Rufus nodded, waving his hand telling Dean to hurry up.

Dean drank it quickly.

“Warm. Smooth. Right? Whiskey, lemon, and honey. Plus a little something of my own.” Rufus patted his shirt pocket and winked.

Dean did feel relaxed. Not only did it feel amazing going down his throat, his whole body seemed to just melt.

“See? It’s all good.” Rufus smiled, which was rare. He took the cup from Dean and patted his cheek. (See? He has heart).

Dean moved to sit in the chair beside the bed while Rufus went to look at Sam. Dean sat forward, hands folded. His elbows rested on his knees. He spread his legs slightly, placing his feet firmly on the ground. He closed his eyes. If he’d only stayed with Sam, none of this would have happened. Dean took complete blame in this. It was all on him. But when the room started spinning, he forgot all that and leaned back.

“Rufus?” he asked, trying not to sound scared.

“Relax Dean, the spinning only lasts a few minutes. Hang in there, it gets better.” Rufus was busy checking Sam’s scar as he spoke. He didn’t seem concerned.

Dean swallowed and nodded. He turned to watch Rufus rolling Sam over and pulling back the bandage. . The bleeding had stopped.

But there would definitely be a scar. There was no way to stitch that up.  Sam did not react when Rufus pushed on it gently, but Dean winced.

He had failed to protect his brother. He closed his eyes again, letting the room spin, allowing himself to feel the nausea. He deserved it, dammit. He just waited. Sam was in good hands. He let himself float away.

***

He opened his eyes and blinked. The room was bright. No. No, he wasn’t in the room. He was…on a beach? He was on a towel in the sand. He sat up and blinked. What the hell? He frantically looked around him. There did not seem to be any danger nearby. Just a beach. An empty beach. Beside him, laying on the towel was his beautiful brother. Just lying there with his hands behind his head. He was smiling. He wore board shorts and nothing else. Dean looked down at himself and saw he was also only in swimming trunks.

“You alright big bro?” Sam asked beneath his sunglasses. Dean jumped.

“Yeah, just…where are we? Are – are you ok? Wait! Sit up!” He demanded. Sam sat up and took off his glasses, his eyebrows furrowed. “You ok, Dean?” Dean turned him quickly and looked at his bare shoulder. Nothing. Just bare, beautiful skin.

“Look at yourself, Sam! You’re –“

“Yeah I know, I noticed it right away. Awesome, right?”

“Sam, where are we?” Sam looked around, squinting into the sun. Dean noticed his beautiful kaleidoscope eyes. The practically sparkled.

“I don’t know Dean, but it’s pretty cool, don’t you think?” He looked back at Dean, smiling.

“Are you…are we…is this…”

Sam laughed. “Yeah Dean, we’re both here. Both asleep but not. I guess we can talk to each other here. I’m ok, Dean. Right now? Inside my head? I’m ok. But I know it’s not real. I need to wake up. I know you’ll wake me up. Keep trying.” He smiled.

“How is this…how are you…” “Dean, for gods sakes, stop trying to analyze it and just go with it, ok? We’re here, we’re together, it’s…it’s good. And…” Sam looked around. He put his hand up, spreading it wide. “…there’s no one here. We are alone Dean. Alone. We’re not sick, or hurt, or…damaged…we can….just…” Sam pulled Dean back down to the towel.

It was hot. So hot, it baked into their warm, dry skin.

Sam’s beautiful, unbruised, unscarred, tanned, perfect skin.

Dean shuddered. He looked deep into Sam’s eyes and nodded. “Yeah Sammy. I can do that. Let’s uh…let’s go in the water, yeah?”

Sam smiled. “Yeah Dean.” His smile was big, so genuine, so clearly hopelessly in love, it almost broke Dean’s heart.

They ran into the water together, hand in hand. Sam’s knee showed no sign of a limp, no scarring whatsoever.

There was no one, anywhere for miles. The ocean was softly lapping up against the shore.

They walked slowly, hand in hand. Up to their waists now, the water slowly pushing them together with each pulse, Dean reached for Sam. He pulled him close, their mouths crashing together.

“I’m sorry Sam, I’m so sorry, I tried,” Dean managed between kisses,

“Shhh, Dean let it go here. That’s for out there. Just kiss me.”

And Dean did, he pulled his little brother close, slowly slipping off his brothers swim trunks, pushing the last part down with his toes, letting them float to the surface. Sam took off Dean’s trunks too, and when they popped to the surface, he grabbed them both and put them on the nearby pier. (That wasn’t there thirty seconds ago., Dean thought).

“Where did that come from?” asked Dean.

“I said shut up, Dean. Come here.” But Sam’s voice was low, not harsh. Dean stepped forward, pulling Sam against him so their chests pressed together.

“God Sammy, you’re beautiful.” He ran his hands down Sam’s face. Here, he was perfect. And they were safe. But Dean choked back a sob. Literally all of Sam’s issues were just gone. Here, wherever they were, Sam was perfect again. And Dean didn’t want to leave.

He put his hand on the back of Sam’s neck. Pulling fiercely but not forcefully, he brought Sam’s lips to his.

“Sammy,” he breathed softly into his brother’s mouth.

“De – “ was Sam’s soft reply.

They stood there, in the water, Sam’s arms now wrapped around each other.

“Dean…?”  Sam’s voice called out again. It sounded a little more painful than sensual. More afraid. Dean opened his eyes.

“Baby?” Dean asked, concerned.

But Sam just smiled and nodded, indicating he was ok.

Dean took Sam’s face in his and looked deep into his eyes. Sam bit his lower lip.

“God Sam. Get so hard looking at you. Think of sliding my cock in your pretty mouth, watching you on your knees, sucking me off as you look up at me with your gorgeous eyes.”

A small sound escaped Sam’s lips.

“You like that?” You like the idea of sucking your big brother’s cock? Right here, yeah? On this beach where no one can see us? You can do whatever you want here, baby.”

“Yeah.” Sam tilted his head backward and his eyes rolled back in pleasure as Dean leaned in, devouring the soft, unmarked neck beneath him.  Sam grabbed on to Dean tighter. Pulling.  No…pushing?

Dean kissed Sam’s hand and brought it down below the water line to his dick. So stunningly hard, and Sam gasped at the feel of it. He instinctly wrapped his hand around it and started pumping.

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam gasped, when Dean reciprocated.

They stroked each other, lazily at first, then with increased passion and desire. Faster and faster, until both were shivering and calling each other’s name.

Sam moaned under his brother’s touch.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect baby boy. You feel so good.” Dean held their bodies together, enjoying the coolness of the water as all evidence of what they had just done washed away with the waves.

They just held each other.

Dean tried to lean in, to feel those lips again. “God, I love you, baby…”

But Sam pulled back sharply. His bangs, wet and clinging to his forehead, covered his eyes slightly - but Dean still saw it.

Black, Like tar.

“Let go.” The voice was not Sam’s.  But it was familiar.

Not-Sam reached up and pinched his ear, hard.

“Dean wake up!” This voice was Sam’s again, eyes sunflower for a flash before they quickly changed back to black.

“Mine,” the voice said.

His ear hurt.

He opened his eyes.

***

Still sitting in the chair, he saw both Bobby and Rufus together the bed, books open, and papers strewn across Sam’s lap. He was still unconscious, but grimacing slightly.

Dean tried to sit up, but he still felt held down by the heaviness of whatever it was Rufus gave him.

He tried to call out but his voice wouldn’t work. Still too heavy, too sedated, he couldn’t warn them.

***

Bobby checked his notes again while Rufus looked at the book. He looked from the book to Sam’s shoulder and back again. He squinted and turned the book around. Looking at the picture from different angles.

“Hey Bobby?” Two pairs of eyes turned to look at him, although Rufus only was looking at one. hope hanging in both.

“The scar. It’s backwards.”

Right then, Sam opened his eyes.

Dean still couldn’t move.

Sam looked directly at him and smiled.

Black, like tar, thought Dean.

Starved taglist:

@charliebradbury1104, @sammys-dimpless, @adsp-wincestj2, @vania-montoya, @ netaelex,   @bobbie3939 @mtngirlforever @dontknowmyname215 @j2sunflowerbaby @ alex2029

#CYIDaddy #wincest #weecest #Starved

[the-walking-memelords]

A2 - Chapter 2: Not So Out of The Woods

Chapter 1

Series is rated M

Word Count: 2427

Clementine brings a few of the school members to meet with Layla and her caravan, but suspicious activity in the woods drowns Clementine in a fear she hasn't felt in years.

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It had been hours since the sun abandoned them.

Clementine paced back and forth under the silver light of the moon mingling with the fire of the torches. What remained of her half-amputated leg strained against her prosthetic, the pain making her limp more noticeable.

Where the fuck are they?

“They’ll be back anytime now, hun.” Ruby said from a nearby picnic table, cardigan pulled tight around her to fight off the night chill. Her voice was optimistic, but her foot tapped rapidly in worry.

The young woman carefully ran her fingers over the thin braids along the right side of her head, the rest of her hair hanging loose on her left. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of Louis’ gentle touch after he finally convinced her to let him do her hair.

But pretending he was there only drew attention to the fact that he wasn’t, and neither was AJ. After losing him not once, but twice, Clementine begged that third time’s the charm wouldn't mean losing him forever.

Calm down you’re overthinking this.

Louis wouldn’t let anything happen to AJ, and Aasim was probably the smartest one of them all. He knew how to keep them out of danger.

Clementine had run out of things to keep herself busy as the time ticked on, far beyond the point they were supposed to return. The bowls were washed, patrols were done, the watchtower was deemed structurally sound. Nothing left to do but wait as the night grew colder.

“See anything?” She called up to the two standing on the watchtower.

“Not much.” Violet joked, trying to be lighthearted in the absence of their class-clown. Her vision was mostly gone, completely blind in her right eye, but she still knew a walker when she saw one.

She wore her short icy blonde hair in a half ponytail, keeping the strands out of her peripheral vision. A black patch covered her dead eye, tied in a messy knot behind her head. Tennessee convinced her to let him decorate it, painting the flower she was named after with impressive detail.

“It’s too dark to see very far.” Tennesee pointed out.

“They’ll signal when they’re close.”

Tenn was now about the age Clementine was when she first came to the school. Even though he had essentially grown up, he was still that sweet and artistic boy she had met. The only thing that majorly changed about his personality was he had taken to covering the scars on the side of his head. The navy blue beanie was pulled down over the tops of his ears, obscuring most of the burn marks. Ever since they started interacting with other groups, the people would stare and whisper. The boy found it annoying enough to hide his scars. Violet was pissed enough that she wanted to fight a few of them, and she would have if he hadn’t convinced her to drop it. Though it was not so much as she dropped it as she grumbled along with the boy’s wishes and gave death-glares to anyone whose eyes lingered too long.

A long whistle came from beyond the gate, a sound that started low then quickly swooped high. Both Ruby and Clem bolted from their places towards the gate to see three innocently-smiling faces.

“I can explain-” Louis didn’t get a chance to lead with that explanation before Clementine wrapped her arms tightly around both him and AJ. Aasim smiled and playfully rolled his eyes before wrapping an arm around Ruby and giving them some space, mentally preparing for the lecture he was about to get.

“What the hell took you so long?” She bit back tears of both relief and frustration.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that.” Louis searched for a way to dig himself out of this hole.

“We were tracking a deer and went a little too far.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t find it?”

“I did.” The boy piped up.

“I shot it but it ran away into a bunch of walkers”

“Shit.” Clementine swore.

“We need to be more careful if walkers are starting to group up like that again. That’s how herds form.”

“We should see if there’s anything we can salvage before we head to the meetup point.” Louis decided.

“Bones, antlers, parts of the hide if it isn’t too chewed up. Anything we could trade with. Plus if we run into the smelly patrol that ruined our hunt, we could take ‘em out before their gang gets too big.”

“Sounds like a decent plan.” Clem agreed.

“We should leave a little earlier if we’re gonna find that deer.”

As the excitement died down a wave of exhaustion and drowsiness fell over the group and they began heading back to the dormitories. Clementine nodded to Louis and AJ as she turned to follow the Vi and Tenn, only taking a few steps before her legs were lifted out from under her. The young woman let out a gasped yelp as she looked up to see Louis smiling down at her as he carried her bridal style.

“What the hell are you doing?” Clem asked as her cheeks became warm.

“You only limp like that when your leg hurts.” He said plainly as he continued to carry her towards their room with no intention of putting her down until they arrived.

“Why are you like this.” She groaned but was unable to stop the curl of her smile

“‘Cause I love you.” Louis replied with a quick yet exaggerated kiss to her forehead.

---

The next morning the three of them set out along with Aasim, Mitch, and Brody. Waving goodbye to those who stayed to watch the school and memorizing their requests once they met up with the caravan.

“You think Layla picked up some new weapons this round?” Mitch asked with a devious smile.

“Oh, hush.” Brody scolded him, pulling her braid over her shoulder.

“Don’t you have enough knives?”

“You can never have enough knives.” The brunet smiled as he draped his arm around the short girl’s shoulder.

“Meds and ammo are top priority.” Clementine reminded, machete clutched tight in her hand as she kept an eye out for any movement among the trees.

“We need to start saving for winter. Hope you all brushed up on your haggling skills.”

They followed AJ’s lead deep into the woods until they finally came upon the clearing from the night before. The area was surprisingly devoid of walkers. The grasshoppers that fled each of their steps and the buzzing flies were the only things moving in this field.

“There it is.” AJ said with a tinge of disgust at what the animal looked like now. It wasn’t much more than a skeleton. The white of bone was more prominent than even the red of the blood, most of the meat and entrails stripped away making it nearly unrecognizable from the animal he had killed.

“Not quite the feeding frenzy I expected.” Louis joked. 

“They made quick work of this fella.”

Aasim moved in closer to take a look with his by now expert hunter’s eyes. He ran his hand over a few of the ribs, feeling the texture of the bone for any imperfections.

“A few scratches but no breaks or teeth marks.” He confirmed with a mildly impressed expression.

“These will be good material for crafting.”

Clementine knelt carefully in the blood-soaked grass, prodding the carcass with her knife to examine its insides. She scrunched her nose at the vile smell, batting away the swarm of flies to investigate what she suspected from afar.

“Look at this one.” Clem beckoned him to where her blade pointed, using it to push back a piece of meat to fully show the laceration embedded into one of its ribs. It was smooth and deep against the otherwise nearly immaculate bone.

“Does that look like a knife mark to you?”

“Could be.” Aasim speculated.

“Not sure what anyone would want from a mostly-eaten deer carcass if they weren’t after the same things we are.”

“What if it wasn’t mostly-eaten when they found it.” Clementine bit her lip at the possibility.

“I mean look at it, does it look like any walker food you’ve ever seen?”

“What are you saying?” Mitch’s eyes narrowed quizzically as he defensively scanned the area around them.

“This animal wasn’t mauled, it was dressed.”

Her words hung heavy in the open clearing. They were used to interacting with others at this point. Layla’s caravan seemed to have new members every time she passed through telling tales of the other communities triumphs and woes alike. Despite all of this, no good soul could erase that happened five years ago, and the wooden replacement for her limb was a constant reminder.

“You think there’s someone sneakin’ around out here?” Brody said with a tone of worry. It was uncommon for her to come to trade meets and Clementine didn’t want something like this to put her off the idea.

“Someone who knows how to move walkers?” Louis added, not helping the red head’s anxiety.

“Let’s take what we came here for and head to the meetup spot” The young woman decided, accepting Louis’ hand to help her off the ground.

“We’re pretty far from the school. Whoever did this may never find us and if they do we’ll handle it.”

Something isn’t right here...

A body crashed loudly through the bushes at the edge of the clearing. The walker snarled through the cloth around its face as it reached for Mitch first. The freckled man smirked as he unsheathed one of his favourites knives from his belt. It had a wide steel blade that was serrated and slightly curved. He took his weapon and effortlessly fell the walker in one quick stab. 

“It’s just like the others.” AJ said in almost a whisper.

“What?” Clementine turned to see the boy with a puzzled expression across his face.

“I killed two walkers yesterday and they both had that.” 

Clementine could now see what he was talking about. The fabric tied over the walker’s face had a symbol of fangs painted over it. Clementine stared frozen at the symbol, a faint memory tugging at her brain. It sent a chill up her spine as adrenalin began to charge her system. It felt like something her mind wanted desperately to forget, but those fangs sunk in deep until she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.

Get out of my head!

“What’s wrong?” Louis’ fingers intertwined with her own.

“We need to leave.” She said in a hoarse whisper, barely audible to herself over the sound of her rapidly beating heart.

Louis squeezed her hand and nodded. He knew Clem would explain later, no longer being the type to keep many secrets from him. Some fragments of her memory were best left unspoken, but she could no longer bring herself to straight-up lie. The young woman nodded in agreement and leaned into him slightly as she continued to plead internally to not have a panic attack right there. “They’re gone.” AJ said as he searched the field. “I killed two just like that one but now they’re gone.” The only walkers among them were the one that mitch had just killed and another one with a bullet hole between its eyes. Dead walkers didn’t just get back up and walk away.

“There’s more of them.” Clementine said as she and the others joined him with weapons drawn. 

Footsteps moved through the trees but in the wrong direction, moving farther away and gaining speed.

That isn’t a walker.

“Hey!” Clementine shouted as she chased down the unknown onlooker, ignoring the shouts from those behind her.

Leaves rained down all around them as Clementine followed the flash of blonde hair that weaved between the trees threatening to outpace her as her prosthetic slowed her down considerably. Clementine called to the girl the whole way, but she was unrelenting in her escape attempt.

What had she seen?

What did she know?

This wasn’t something she could let go. Not with everything she’d built. If her past was sneaking up behind her to slit her throat she wanted to be ready to right back. 

Lady Luck must have had mercy on her at that moment as her target was sent sprawling to the ground with a cry, her ankle catching on a thick root. The girl crawled towards a boulder, whipping around and brandishing a small blade just as Clementine caught up.

“W-Why were you watching us? Who… Who are you?” Clementine choked out her questions as she tried to catch her breath.

The girl glared back through her wild straw-coloured hair with a snarl on her lips. The sight of her closer resembled a wild animal than what appeared to be a teenage girl. 

“Get away from me.” She hissed, one hand clutching her knife and the other around her ankle.

“Who are you with?” Clementine hesitantly took a few steps forward.

The girl uses the bolder to help her stand and her bared teeth shape into a wicked smile. Clementine continues her failing interrogation but now her hand is slowly drifting to the sheath on the back of her belt. 

She looks about ready to slit my throat.

Clementine pulled her machete out of her sheath as she asked one final question.

“What do you know about the fangs?”

“Clementine!” Louis yelled from somewhere not too far back.

The distraction was just enough for Clem to lose focus when the girl charged with a crazed scream. She slashed at Clem with her knife, only managing a shallow but long gash from her collar bone across her shoulder as she jumped back. The girl didn’t go for a second attack, booking it past her into the forest just as Clementine’s group found her.

“Don't!” She yelled not to the fleeing girl but to her friends as they tried to go after her.

“She’s fucking feral.”

Clementine pressed the collar of her now torn shirt against the stinging cut, the already red fabric staining darker with the droplets of blood that trickled out.

“You got hurt!” AJ exclaimed when he saw her hand tightly pressed to her skin

“I’m okay.” She tried to smile reassuringly, but it quickly fell flat.

“You sure?” Louis moved her hand to take a closer look, huffing at the injury.

Clementine wanted nothing more than to go back to the school. Back to her home. But unfortunately, they still had work to do.

“Let’s just find the caravan.”

#twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg aj #clouis #my writing #the walking dead game

[takadasaiko]

Houseguest Chapter Nine

FFN II AO3

Summary: Tony trusts Cap with a story he doesn't often share and they receive bad news in regards to the stolen alien tech.

Chapter Nine: Consequences of Warnings Ignored

Sneider hadn't lied. The old man had warned him that his ribs were going to feel worse before they felt better. Sometime around three in the morning the painkillers had worn off just enough for the pain to slice through the trippy dreams he had been having and wake him up coughing and sputtering. He rolled to his side, curling in on himself as he did his best to will his body under control. His best wasn't cutting it. He was going to hurl, but he had no idea how to get himself up and out of bed, much less to the bathroom.

"I gotcha, Tones," a familiar voice said, and he squinted to see a trash can being held ready for him. He dove for it, emptying what little he had in his stomach until there was less than nothing left. He sank down, draped against the edge of the bed and focused on breathing for a long moment.

He could hear Rhodey shuffling, taking the trash can to the bathroom and running water in it. Tony couldn't muster the energy to move, just listen, and he heard his friend's footsteps returning. "Just like old times, huh?" he rasped, the joke sounding weak even to him.

"Yeah, I don't remember old times including as many broken bones," Rhodey huffed, moving back into his line of sight. It looked like he'd pilfered a pair of sweatpants and an MIT hoodie that Tony thought he actually remembered stealing from Rhodey years before. Well, he supposed that was fair.

"Cracked ribs, not broken," he corrected as his gaze slid past his friend to a chair not too far from the bed.

"Oh yeah? How's that foot?"

A blanket was slung over the back of the chair that wasn't usually there. "Rude. Did you sleep in a chair? I have guest rooms you know."

"Yeah, six of them. When do you ever have that many people stay over?"

"I like to have options."

Rhodey snorted. "I can't hear you from the guest bedroom."

"You worried about me, Rhodes?" Tony teased, but the other man's expression was more serious.

"Always these days, Tones. How're you feeling?"

Tony gave a dramatic groan. "Like a building exploded with me inside of it about thirty-six hours ago."

"That good, huh?"

"Oh yeah. That and I took pain meds on an empty stomach."

"Could be why you woke up like you did."

"Leaning in that direction, yeah."

Rhodey reached forward, the back of his hand pressed against Tony's forehead like he was checking for a fever and looked satisfied with the results. "You should -"

"I apologize for the interruption," JARVIS' voice cut in, "but I've just received a report that the transfer vehicle and police escort that was taking Ms Mira to a new holding facility was attacked."

"Just now?" Tony demanded. "It's the middle of the night."

"Probably avoiding morning traffic," Rhodey mused.

"How bad, J?"

"The reports are still coming in, but there appears to have been an explosion. Three confirmed fatalities currently, but medical is on its way."

Tony felt his chest tighten, his anxiety levels on the rise and he tried to think through them. He needed more information. More data. He couldn't do anything unless he had all the facts. "Explosion? Where?" He shifted, steeling himself.

Rhodey turned a half panicked look on him. "No no no. You stay down."

He had barely started the struggle to sit when two hands pushed gently against his shoulders, forcing him back against the pillows. "I have to help -"

"You're not in any condition to go help anyone right now."

Brown eyes met a darker set. "I tried to warn him."

Rhodey's determination shifted into an expression Tony couldn't quite place. It wasn't pity. He knew better than that, but where Tony felt the sudden onslaught of guilt at not being able to make Ito see reason and that failure costing likely good cops their lives, Rhodey seemed to join him somewhere on that spectrum of pain. "I know you did, buddy," he answered softly. "Listen, try to get some more sleep. You know I have enough contacts to run something down. As soon as I've got something I'll let you know. Okay?"

He still felt the overwhelming need to act, to make sure that this didn't happen again, but Tony found himself nodding and accepting Rhodey's admittedly reasonable proposal.

"Right. I'm gonna go wake Rogers up and -"

"Why?"

Rhodey snorted. "Because if someone isn't here you're gonna faceplant into the floor when you try to get up the second I'm out the door. C'mon, man. I know you." He reached forward, his touch brief on the side of Tony's face. "Get some rest. I'll call it in as soon as I've got it."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He turned towards the door and paused. "I know you won't believe me, but this wasn't your fault, Tones."

And then he was gone, leaving Tony to loose a trembling, pained breath as he squeezed his eyes shut, his imagination filling in the gaps of JARVIS' limited report.

                                                     ___________

Colonel Rhodes was convinced that if someone wasn't watching Tony that he would try to slip out of the house as soon as Rhodes was gone. It seemed like a stretch until Steve poked his head into the presumably sleeping man's room to find it empty. A quick search through the bedroom and a call into the adjacent bathroom suite confirmed it.

Panic threatened his sleep deprived mind. Five minutes. He'd been responsible for Stark for five minutes and he'd lost him. Fantastic.

Just as quick as the panic had threatened, Steve pushed it aside. It wasn't useful anyway. Never had been. No, he needed to think this through. It hadn't been long since Rhodes had left, and as slow as he'd been moving a few hours before when they had all turned in for the night, he couldn't have gotten dressed and out the door yet. Maybe the garage? Or….

He stopped. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Where's Tony? Is he still in the house?"

"Mr Stark is in the kitchen," the AI answered briskly and Steve was off.

Down the stairs and into the kitchen, there was no immediate sign of the missing Stark. The coffee pot was on and brewing, but the lights were dimmed.

"Rhodey tell you what happened?"

Steve startled just a little at the unexpected voice from the room just beyond the kitchen. He followed it to find Tony curled into a chair, that old robe wrapped around him, and a tablet in hand. He flicked at it and the video feed he was looking at projected out so that Steve could see the mangled mess of vehicles left behind from the explosion.

"Two local cops are dead, one US Marshal," Tony said, his voice raw sounding and there was none of his usual enthusiasm.

"How?"

"Still waiting on more intel, but it happened when they were transferring our woman. If I were to take a guess, I'd bet she found a way to smuggle a piece of the alien tech with her and set it off."

Steve looked him over as subtly as he could. He looked exhausted and in no small amount of pain still. "Maybe you should get some sleep while we wait? It could be a while."

"I can't sleep."

"Just -"

"No."

The snap took Steve off guard and he stiffened. Tony must have seen the reaction because he loosed a long breath. "Sorry. I'm just…. I need to figure this out. There could be more out there. Until we figure out who these people are and if they got any more of it…" He squeezed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I can't let anybody else get hurt."

You only fight for yourself. That's what Steve has told Tony when they'd first met. He'd seen footage, he'd read reports. He had thought he knew him, but all he'd seen was the image Tony projected for the world. This man - bruised, beaten, and heartbroken over the lives he couldn't save - somehow seemed so much more real than the mask of bravado that he usually wore. Steve took a careful seat across from him and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"What?" Tony prompted tiredly.

"You said you created the Iron Man suit to make sure your tech didn't hurt anyone."

"Yeah," he managed, not sounding like he liked where this was going. Steve would have to tread carefully.

"SHIELD's files are… thin on what happened in Afghanistan, but that's where it started, right?"

Tony managed to look even more uncomfortable than before. "What are you asking, Cap?"

"What happened there? What made you choose this?"

Tony looked at him for a long moment and Steve thought the dark haired man might tell him to mind his own business. His reasons were his own, and when Tony uncurled and stood, he was pretty sure that was what he was expected to take away. He didn't move, but watched as the injured man limped slowly back towards the kitchen. "You coming or are you gonna make me shout?"

His invitations left a lot to be desired, but at least Steve was certain that's what it was. He followed, doing his best to keep his movements casual and unhurried. Tony looked uncomfortable enough with the subject as it stood.

The other man moved stiffly to the coffee pot, his voice soft and distant as he spoke. "I was there for a presentation. The Jericho Missile. The convoy escorting us back to base was hit and I was taken. Spent about three months there and built the suit to get out."

"That's about where the SHIELD files end. I just… I guess I'm asking what got you from there to being willing to get blown skyhigh."

Tony snorted. "I could ask you the same thing." He turned to lean back against the cabinets and sip at his steaming coffee. "There was a man I worked with. A… mentor. He was close with my dad. I found out he was selling my weapons to terrorists. This -" he taped the ARC reactor set into his chest - "keeps the shrapnel from my own bomb away from my heart. They were using those weapons on local families to keep them under their thumb. They ripped airmen to pieces with them to get to me. I swore I wouldn't let anyone use one of my designs like that again."

"The early missions that you ran," Steve breathed. "The ones with near to no information on them."

"They were to destroy my stolen tech."

Steve loosed a breath. That had been the missing piece. It made more sense now, and he knew he'd misjudged the other man early on. He knew it now more than ever. "I'm sorry."

That seemed to startle him out of the increasingly brooding mood he had been sinking into as he spoke. "Huh? For what?"

"The things I said before New York."

Tony ducked his head a little. "Yeah, well, you turned out to be more than just some hopped up super soldier so… live and learn, right?"

"Guess so," Steve murmured, the corner of his lips quirking up.

If Tony was going to offer anything further, he didn't get the chance. There was a loud chime that must have been the doorbell and he shot a questioning lol towards the front door. "J, what've we got?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm unable to get a clear visual of the individual for ID recognition."

Steve frowned. That didn't sound good.

"Show me what you dohave," Tony answered irritably.

An image popped up on the tablet he'd left on the kitchen island and Steve leaned in for a closer look. The man on the porch was slender, medium height, and very good at making sure his baseball cap shielded his face from view. Tony pushes a breath out through his nose. "I'll be damned. I think that's Ito."

Now that he said it, the figure did resemble the police captain. "What would he be doing here?"

"Won't know until we talk to him. Jarvis, let him in."

                                                    ___________

TBC

Notes: For a story that I never actually meant to write, this thing has grown like crazy....

And it's almost done. I just wrapped up the writing for chapter 10 and I think, at most, there may be 12 chapters all together. Watch it somehow turn into 20. That'd be just like my traitor brain to add on another arc to prove me wrong. :P

For those of you that celebrate, I want to wish you a very happy Chunukkah and a Merry Christmas! I hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday, and here's hoping that I can get the next chapter up by New Year! :D

Next Time: Danger follows Ito to Tony's doorstep.

#MCU fanfiction #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #James Rhodes #Iron Man #Captain America

[lokisgame]

Just As Friends [2]

[part 1] 

She won, two out of three, then they did a few rounds of steady backstroke to rest, letting their thoughts float aimlessly. Mulder watched the lights reflected of water onto the ceiling, hearing nothing but his own measured breathing, weightless, happy. Even loosing to her felt good, fair. She didn't gloat, she didn't try anything, simply threw herself into the competition, unafraid, ready to give 100 percent. He had a feeling she did that with everything, and the thought made him smile. He glanced to his left and saw pale, slender arms draw graceful arcs above the surface. They passed the final flags and turned around to go back. He waited for her at, what he realized, was the deep end of the pool, five and a half feet was nothing for him, but for her it meant treading water to keep breathing. Crossing the last few yards in a slow breaststroke, she didn't stop when he reached out for her. “Let's take a minute.” Her hand on his shoulder, meeting half way, and a second later her arms were around his neck, thighs around his waist. Scully smiled when his arms closed around her, hands gallantly above the waist. Mulder touched bare skin, the back of her suit cut out deep, and his cheeks colored when their eyes met; so much for suave. She kept smiling, though, pulling herself closer, her embrace warm, soft breasts just a layer of fabric away. Her chin landed on his shoulder and he held her close, trying to think friendly thoughts. "Thanks,” she sighed into his ear, and let the water take her weight as he kept her from sinking. In that moment, she trusted him. "Any time," he said, hugging her lightly and she hugged him back.

"You can study at my place, if you want," he offered, as the doors closed behind them. "No, but thanks," she smiled, hiking the gym bag on her shoulder a little higher, "if they haven't worn each other out by now, the guy would have to be an olympic gold medalist in bed." Mulder filed that away to think about later. "Okay, but let me walk you home anyway, it's late." "Don't you have your own studying to do?" "I'll manage." He smiled and pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, "C'mon, you'll catch a cold." "Doctors don't get sick," she said, pushing the hood back, "don't you know that?" "Yes, they do," he pulled it up again, chuckling. "I can't see you," she whined, trying to fix it. "Yeah, I'm brilliant and handsome, such a shame," he scoffed, putting arm around her shoulders, hand resting lightly on the top of her head, to keep her from throwing the hood back. "Stop it, if I can do it, so can you." She looked up, and true enough, his face was shadowed by the enormous hood of his navy blue windbreaker. "You look like you just got off the deck of a fishing trawler." "Arrrgh," Mulder growled making her giggle, and picked a path that lead back to the dorms. "I was going for clandestine meeting in a dark alley, but I'll take it." "Sure, Captain." Mulder let go and the night became just a little bit colder than it was a second ago. 15 minutes later they stopped in front of her dorm complex. Somewhere above, through a cracked window, they could hear a girl scream, short staccato yelps of ecstasy and then a piercing cry, someone on another floor cheered, hands clapping. Scully groaned shaking her head in resignation, Mulder chuckled. "What are they on?" "My offer stands." "You don't mind?" He nudged her a little, to get moving, "let's get your stuff." Different speakers blared behind closed doors, as they walked down the corridor to her place. People coped as they could, by creating noise of their own. A girl, tall and slender, wearing jeans and a crop-top that said 'I can't, I'm in med school' went past them, rocking her hips and smiling at Mulder, like she could. "It will take just a minute." Scully said, unlocking the door and flicking the lights on. The room was small but neat, books stacked, notes only slightly askew in their binders, charts stuck to walls with tape mixed with pictures and polaroids, stemming from a black and white print of Einstein, his tongue stuck out to the wold. "I thought you were a med student." He said, trying to understand the connection. "I did my undergrad thesis in physics." She said, emptying the gym bag onto the floor and hanging out the wet towel over the back of a chair, before packing thick volumes into it. "And you switched to medicine?" "Long story," she zipped up the bag and went for the bathroom, the tap started, water splashed. The towel slipped to the floor and Mulder went to pick it up, taking a glance at her desk, more books and lecture notes. A framed picture of what had to be younger Scully caught his attention, her arm around a slightly younger boy, one tooth missing from his grin. Behind them, a tall man had his arms around a younger version of himself and a girl, matching them in height, but willowy instead of solid. All red-haired and freckled to varying degrees, smiling to the camera. Her family, father, two brothers and a sister, all five of them happy. "Okay, I'm good to go." She said, coming back, drying her hands. He glanced up, feeling guilty of snooping, but she came to his side, pointing to the picture. "That's Bill and Missy, Ahab and my baby brother, Charlie." She smelled like apple pie and just a hint chlorine. "Cute," he put the picture back, next to a huge mug filled with highlighter rainbow, "let's go." Before she opened her mouth to argue, he took her bag and swung it over his shoulder, leading her out and just as Scully was locking the doors, the moaning started again. "You've got to be kidding me," she sighed, shaking her head. "Maybe they're scared of the Russian judge." Mulder grinned, and taking her lightly by the arm, made her walk faster. She looked puzzled for a second, but he winked at her and as they passed the lovers' room, he pounded one fist on the door. "Keep it down, will ya!" He yelled and grabbing her hand, they ran. Scully laughed as they stumbled down the stairs.

They shared the couch, Scully curled up in one end, Mulder stretched out in the other. Silence reigned, broken only by rustle of pages, soft thumps of textbooks against the coffee table and occasional crack of sunflower seed. Nursing second mug of black coffee, Scully leaned back on the arm rest, stretching her legs. His hand landed on her crossed ankles, petting them absently, eyes never leaving the paragraph he was reading. Sometime past 1 am, she ended up lying down on the seat, with her legs bent at the knee and draped over his, sharing the cramped space. The book she was reading a minute ago, lay open on the floor. Mulder took the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the two of them, letting himself rest too, just for a few minutes. The swim had really taken it out of him. Curling up a little he felt her shift, limbs growing heavier with sleep. He noticed the diagram she was studying; human heart with all it’s cross-sections, every part marked and labeled in Latin, and wondered, which parts held the people she loved, and if there was any room left, for one, Fox William Mulder.

#x files fanfic #msr fanfic #fluff #just as friends #college au

[sleepywinchester]

Unusual | Chapter 24

Summary: It’s always hard to say goodbye. 

Autor: @sleepywinchester | prev. deanwinchester-af

Pairings: Dean x Katherine

Characters: Dean Winchester, Katherine Pierce, Sam Winchester.

Words: 3k+

Warnings: Fluff / Angst

Title: The Second Trial

A/N: ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I UPDATED THISSSSS. Even though I did already upload this chapter in Wattpadd ages ago, I forgot I did not do here. For the smol people that are still interested in this series, this is for you. xoxox

Tags: @fandommaniacx you’re the most loyal reader to this fic, thankyou. *hugs*

Feedback is always appreciated it <3

“Wow,” I exclaimed with wide eyes as I saw Kevin’s extremely dark circles under his eyes. “You look like crap.” The boy sighed as he held onto his frying pan as if his life depended on it. “Sorry.” I shrugged trying to ease the harshness of my words.

“Thanks. I know I look like crap, I feel like it too.” Kevin said as he walked back and forth around his ship.

Dean, Sam and I glanced around for a second, looking at all the mess around this place.

“What’s going on, Kev?” Dean spoke. “What’s with the S.O.S?”

“It’s him,” Kevin replied glaring at the shielded window.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Who?”

“Crowley!” He glared at me. “He’s in my head!”

“He’s in your head…?” Sam asked full of doubt.

Dean and I couldn’t help but stare at Kevin as if he was completely crazy. Crowley could be the King of Hell but he didn’t have that kind of power. Kevin continued to stroll back and forth.

“Stop,” I told him. “You’re gonna make a hole.”

“He. Is. In. My. Head.” Kevin rose his tone. “Do you know what that means?!”

“Yes. It means we need to up your anxiety meds.” Dean stood next to me. “Kevin, you are dreaming. Look if that son of a bitch knew where you were, don’t you think he’d do a hell lot worse than just messing with your head?”

“Where’s Garth?” Sam asked in the back.

Kevin shook his head, fully exasperated that Sam would ask for Garth in this situation.

“On a case - or the dentist, I don’t know. He hasn’t been here in weeks.”

“Hey.” I gained his attention. “What’s that you needed to tell us?”

Dean stood a couple feet next to me. He rubbed his forehead as he told Kevin to put the frying pan down. Kevin sighed deeply and placed the pan on the table as he grabbed one of his notebooks.

“I translated the second trial from the tablet.” He said walking towards us.

“You… Stinky, crazy, prophet! Nice work!” Dean cheered up.

Kevin backed up from the hug. “If Crowley is in my head… He knows!”

“Relax,” I told him. “He is not in your head. What’s the second trial?”

The prophet sighed deeply one more time, still annoyed that no one would take this threat seriously. Ignoring the lack of focus, he continued to tell us the second trial.

“A soul has to be rescued from hell and delivered into heaven,” Kevin said.

“Rescue a soul from hell… Like actually go to hell?” Sam's voice was uncertain. “How do you get a soul into Heaven?” He glanced at me. “How do you even get a soul out of hell.”

“If we can get into Purgatory, we can get into Hell,” I told them.

Dean rose his eyebrow, “Last time I checked, you were not the Key of Purgatory anymore.”

“Let’s just say Purgatory is like Hell’s neighbor.” I spoke to them as I walked around the place. “t has some sort of portal that gets you into hell.”

“Like a backdoor?” Dean asked.

I was walking behind Kevin when I stopped and looked at Dean, “Exactly.”

“So, how do we get in there?” Dean scowled.

Continuing by walking around and reached Dean’s side. “Rogue reapers. For the right price, they can smuggle you into Purgatory and then into Hell.”

“I thought you were the only one who could do such thing.” Sam looked at me with doubt in his eyes, as if I’ve been lying to him all this time.

“I’m supposed to be the only key but those bastards can get anywhere if they put their minds to it,” I replied with total honesty. “All we have to do is find a reaper and we’ll be going first class to Purgatory.”

“Alright,” Dean cleared his throat. “Where’s can we find a reaper?”

“I know the business, I do not know the locations…” I said with a shrug but the continued speaking, “but I am pretty sure a demon knows where to find one.”

/ / /

“Ajay,” Dean called out the name of the rogue reaper as we approached him.

The reaper didn’t show much emotion when we stood in front of him.  

Ajay’s eyes landed on me, “Word is that you were in Purgatory.”

I arched an eyebrow and with a smirk I replied. “Guess they were wrong.”

“We want to do business,” Sam spoke up.

“Why would you two do business with me when you’re rolling with the Key of Purgatory.”

“I am not the key anymore,” I said before Sam or Dean could speak for me. “I’m pretty sure you’ve heard what happened so spare me the gossiping section. Can you get us to Hell, yes or no?” I spoke with a tough tone.

Ajay smirked, “For someone with no power, you still have some attitude.”

“Oh, I can still kill you if I wanted to.” I glared at Ajay with a dull look.

He backed away, “Alright. Going to Hell is not cheap though.”

“How much?” Sam asked.

“You three are resourceful,” Ajay said passing his glance through the three of us. “I do this for you guys and one day, you’ll owe me a favor.”

“Have we met?” Dean tilted his head a little.

“I am the reaper who took Bobby Singer to hell,” Ajay said.

Instantly our eyes were wide open at this new piece of information.

“He can’t be in hell,” Dean yelled. “He’s not supposed to.”

“Well… If you’re not in the boss good list, no way you cross the friendly skies.” Ajay said totally unbothered.

“How much for two tickets down and three back?” Dean asked without even thinking.

“Two?” I glared at him. “I am not staying behind.”

“Hell yes, you are.” Dean snapped. “You can’t go back to Purgatory.” He turned to Ajay, “How much!?”

“Dean,” Sam called his brother with a raised tone.

“What?!” Dean turned to Sam.

Sam motioned to take a couple steps back from Ajay to talk. Dean sighed harshly rolling his eyes but followed his brother. All I could see in Dean’s eyes was the desperation to take Bobby out of hell in that exact minute.

“What the hell are you thinking?” Sam

“You heard the guy, Bobby is in hell. We are gonna spring him.” Dean hushed back with attitude in his tone. “I don’t even know why are we discussing this.”

“We’ve been over this, I have to do the trials solo,” Sam told him. “Neither of you can go to Purgatory or Hell with me.”

“This is Bobby we’re talking about Sam,” Dean said.

It took almost Sam had to convince Dean and me into letting him go alone. Ajay told us how it was going to work and it seemed pretty easy. Dean and I watched from the end of the alley as Ajay took Sam into Purgatory. Once their bodies disappeared behind the wall full of graffiti, I let a deep sigh out.

Dean began to walk back and forth as the minutes passed and it began to give me anxiety. I wanted to tell him something that would comfort him but he’s been to both places Sam is going and neither is a good place for anyone to be.

“Calm down,” I told Dean. “Sam is a big boy, he can take care of himself.”

“I can’t and he doesn’t…” Dean clenched his jaw. “Bobby is in Hell… Sam is alone going through the two most damned placed in existence. He shouldn’t be alone and we both know it.”

Reaching Dean, I took his hand and stared into his eyes. “Sam is going to be fine. He can take care of himself, don’t underestimate your little brother.” I said with a soft smile. “We’ll be back in 24 hours, everything we’ll be over by then.”

It took Dean a moment to agree and leave the alley and go to Kevin’s place. He and I rented a motel room to spend the night, once it was the morning we went back to Kevin’s.

“Hey Kevin, come here and grab some of these eggs,” Dean shouted as he cooked scrambled eggs in the kitchen. I walked up to him and touched his shoulder. “Yours are already served, babe.”

I gave him a kiss on the cheek as I grabbed my plate. Turning around I come across with Kevin’s mess of a table, living room and place in general.

Letting a sigh out, I sat down at the table. “I miss the bunker,” I murmured.

“You and me both,” Dean agreed as he kept cooking. “Kev! Come on, man! You can’t hide forever!”

“He hasn’t left that closet since last night?” I asked taking a bite of the crunchy bacon.

“No,” Dean turned his head when the front door got open and Kevin walked in. We both looked confused at the prophet who suddenly was walking outside. “What happened to be scared?”

Even though he was back to being out and about, he still looked like crap and scared out of his mind. Kevin grabbed a piece of bacon as he continued to walk back and forth.

“I’m still scared but now I made a preemptive move.” He told us.

I couldn’t help but frown at his words and actions. “Sorry - a what? And why?”

“I can’t sit here with the table like a....” Kevin shook his head, “like a sitting duck. Crowley is breathing down my ass. I had to get rid of the table just to take off some of the pressure.”

I stood up the second I heard Kev got rid of the tablet.

“Wait.” I snapped.

“Getting rid of it?!” Dean snapped on top of me.

Kevin shook his head. “Temporarily.” He glanced at Dean, “I hid it.”

“Where?” Dean’s voice sounded more like a growl now.

Kevin arched his brow. “If I tell you where it’s not hidden, is it?”

“Kevin!” Dean snapped. “Tell me where the damn tablet is, or I swear to-” He was trying to keep his calm but the anger was slowly building up. Dean to deep breath in and out. I reached Dean’s side, holding subtly his arm, my eyes still looking at Kevin. “Where did you put it?”

“I am not telling you,” Kevin told us, the scowl on his forehead letting us know that there was no way in hell the location of that tablet was going to come out of his mouth.

"Kids. They're so cute when they're little." A voice joined us, making everyone spun towards it. She wore a perfectly neat grey pantsuit and her chin up high. "Then they turn into teenagers, and the party's over." She said as she slowly approaching us. The more she approached us, the more I gripped my knife tighter. "We haven't been formally introduced, Dean, Katherine. My name is Naomi." If I couldn't see through her fake politeness, I'd say she looked like a good person. Dean protectively stood in front of me, both of us shooting cautious glares at her.

“Oh, I know who you are and I know what you did to Cass.” Dean’s voice reflected so much anger towards her.

Naomi began to speak about a lot of stuff, saying how much she helped or thinks she helped and not damaged Cass, When she finished her monologue, she vanished into thin air, just like all other angels tend to do.

“I hate angels.” I groaned under my breath as Dean drove. “Except Cass,” I looked at him, “he’s okay-ish.”

Dean let out a small scoff. “Well, he is not in the good list... “ I felt his eyes on me, so I looked at him. “At the moment.”

We strolled into the ally, the taxi was parked there with someone sitting in the driver's seat. Once we were close enough, we noticed Ajay’s was sitting there but with blood dripping down his neck. He was dead and with that, Dean instantly started to panic.

“Who are you calling?!” I asked when I saw him reach for his phone.

“Benny.” He replied instantly.

Him saying our friend’s name didn’t make sense any sense at first.

“Benny?” When I spoke his name out loud it was when it hit me. “Dean. No.”

“That’s the only way!” He snapped back, his eyes were wide and scared of what might happen to his family. “He’s my little brother, Kat. Benny can bring him back, just like we did.”

I turned away and took a deep breath, looking at the street and not believing myself for what I was about to say. “Call him.”

I did not sleep that night, I couldn’t. When the sun came up and we met with Benny in the ally. He appeared next to me, with the same big smile as always, which I returned with the same smile and hug. I stood aside as Dean explained the situation to him, avoiding any eye contact as Dean spoke to him.

Benny whistled taking a couple steps to his left. “When Dean Winchester asks for a favor, he’s sure not screwing around.”

“Sending you back there is the last thing I ever wanted to do.” Dean’s voice was shaky. He was scared and ashamed for asking this to his friend.

“I know, I know,” Benny replied.

“But is my little brother stuck down there…” Dean told him.

“This would be the little brother who wants to kill me?” Benny rose an eyebrow.

"You got access to the place," Dean said

"By "access" you mean, "getting beheaded"?" Benny said

"Yeah, you're right-" Dean's voice break, "I-It's too much. It's not like I've exactly been there for you lately."

"Oh, come on, Dean. Both of you know I love a challenge." Benny said

My glance went up to see Benny's face. "You're serious?" Dean and I, asked in sync.

"Hey, he's your brother. I say let's do this." Benny said

"I owe you," Dean said

Benny shook his head, "You don't owe me nothing. Truth is, I've could use a break from all of this."

"It really been that tough?"

"I'm not a good fit, Dean. Not with the vampires, and for sure not with the humans. I don't belong." His eyes holding up tears looked at me, "And after a while... That starts to wear on you."  He looks down for a bit, chuckling sadly to himself. I got closer to Dean, when he held my hand, I felt how shaky he was. Benny gaze at us with a half grin, "I'm glad you two finally realized it."

Dean and I smiled sadly and weakly. Slowly letting go of Dean's hand and slide my hand inside my jacket's pocket, then took out the little vile of my blood in it and a paper with the words of the ritual. Reaching Benny, I took his hand and place the flask and the paper on it. "You know the drill, tell Sam to drop the blood in the ground where the portal is, then say the magical words and we'll be waiting for you guys."

His frown got more pronounced, "I thought you couldn't do that anymore."

I sighed, “I shouldn’t, that might be the drop of power I have but I don’t care for it. I want you and Sam to come back, and this is how you guys do that.” I told him with hope in my eyes.

Benny hugged me tightly, "Take care of Dean and yourself... Love you, darling."

"I love you too," I whispered on his shoulder, not wanting to let go but time was ticking. I broke the hug, taking a couple steps back, whipping off my tears.

"Let's get on with this," Benny said.

Dean stared at him for a little longer, "Are you sure about this?"

"Not my first rodeo, man," Benny replied with a smirk.

I couldn’t bear to see how Dean took out his machete and prepared to kill his friend. I ran both of my hands through my hair, moving my head both sides. "I- I can't watch this," I said with a cracking voice, turning around, focusing my look on the floor. Trying to pull me together in order to not have a breakdown. My heart stopped and my breathing got cut off when I heard the sound of the knife cutting Benny's head, then when it dropped.

"Don't turn around," Dean told me.

Closing my eyes, I didn't respond - just focusing my thoughts that I'll see Benny when he gets top side with Sam. Dean literally hauls his ass off to Maine. We were there in the middle of the night. We hiked till the location we landed on our trip out of Purgatory.

"It's weird... They should've been here by now." I muttered walking around.

Dean sighed, "They'll be here."

Suddenly a brilliant flash of light appeared, followed by grunts. Seconds later Sam walked out of the bushes. Dean hugged him on sight, relieved his brother is here.

"So..." I catch my breath, "Now you understand why I hated my home?"

Sam chuckled, tired from the day he’s had. "Totally."

"Did you get him out?" Dean said.

Sam's expression changed instantly. "Only Bobby."

"What?" I snapped.

Sam looked at me, "Benny uh- he got us out. A bunch of vamps showed, and he used himself as bait. I get the feeling that even if that didn't happen, he didn't want to come back, you know?" I clench my jaw, holding all these mixed emotions in. "I'm sorry." I gave him a weak smile, understanding now the words he told me.  Sam finished the ritual, taking Bobby's soul out of his arm. Suddenly on his way up, it's stopped.  But he made it up, after an apparition of Crowley and Naomi. This trial hit him more than the first, now both of his arms glowed and the drops on his knees groaning of pain. Dean glanced at me, the concern is obvious. I pursed my lips, slowly shaking my head. This is not good.

"You're the closest thing I had to a brother..." I said on top of Benny's grave. Dean and I buried him, burning his bones didn't seem right. Maybe one day, he can get out or we might end up in there again. Who knows. A chuckle escaped out of me, "I'll miss you, Benny." Was the last thing I said before turning and getting inside the Impala. Once in there, I slept all the ride back to Kevin's place. Which was completely empty. Maybe he was right, maybe Crowley was in his head or he just bailed on us, who knows.

#dean winchester fic #dean fanfiction #dean x katherine #unusual #elsie writes

[so-langelo]

Your mouth is like medicine

It was so much fun to write this omggggg Hope you guys like it Ari xxx 

Title: Make you feel loved -Cade

Will swears that fire hydrant was not there this morning.

There was an emergency at the hospital and as the doctor on call, he had to practically sprint there. At 5 am, when he was still half asleep, you have to cut him some slack that he didn’t notice the bright red fire hydrant.

On his lunch break, he saw a policeman writing a ticket for an idiot who parked right next to a fire hydrant. Imagine his surprise when he realized that was his car. 

“Oh fucking shit. This is just great.”, Will muttered.

He put on his best fake smile, “Officer! Hi. I’m here and I was just about to move my car. I’m a doctor at the hospital and there was an emergency. I didn’t notice the hydrant. Please, and can you just let me off with a warning?” 

“Sorry, doc. The law is the law. I’m sure though, being a doctor, you can pay off this ticket with no problem.”, the police officer raised an eyebrow at Will. 

Because Will was closer to the officer, he could now properly see the the man, and and in all of Will’s 26 years, he has never seen a man as beautiful as him. 

He was shorter than WIll by a couple inches. He was slim shouldered, but his arms were fit from years of training probably. He looked like he was around Will’s age, probably a bit younger. He had a strong jawline and deep olive skin. His dark hair that was slicked back and his dark shades covered his eyes. 

In normal circumstances, Wil would have thought the officer was cute, but right at this moment, when he was writing Will a ticket.... Damn it. He was still cute. 

Will tugged at his blond hair in frustration. “Yeah, I’m a doctor. I’m a new doctor, just out of med school, so I’ll probably be in debt for the at least half of my life. I really can’t afford a ticket right now.”

The officer took off his shades and placed them on his head. The officer had dark eyes that seemed to go on forever. Will would be lying if he said he didn’t catch his breath. 

“Fine, doc. I’ll let you go this time.”, he pointed at Will seriously, “Just don’t do it again. I might not be the one that catches you next time, and trust me my collegues won’t break for pretty doctors,” Will felt a blush come to his face, and the officer grinned. 

“Thank you. Oh my goodness and i promise I won’t. I’m Will Solace. Thank you again, Officer...”

“Nico di Angelo. It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Solace.”, Nico smiled.

“Hey, rookie. Where the hell are you? Boss needs us at the station.”, the radio at Nico’s wasit suddenly spoke up, making Will jump. 

“What the hell did I say about calling me rookie, Grace. I’m coming.”, Nico rolled his eyes, as if the person on the other end would see him. 

“Well duty calls. See you again, doc. Hopefully, it’s not because you parked illegally.”, Nico winked before putting his shades back on and retreating to his police car.

“Thank you again, Officer di Angelo.”, Will waved slightly and hoped his smile didn’t look as dorky as he thought.

Will wasn’t sure, but before Nico drove off, Will caught a blush decorating the policeman’s cheeks.

For the next three weeks, Will tried desprately hard to not daydream of the police officer with the pretty eyes, but Will greatly failed. 

Nico di Angelo infiltrated his mind with his boyish grin and long eyelashes and toned arms- Will has to stop. He doesn’t want to stop.

While Will was just finishing up his last patient in the emergency room, a fellow doctor bardged in. “Solace. A robbery happened; four blocks away. It’s was really bad. Wounded police officers and victims on their way here.”

Sirens began blaring in his head. 

What if Nico was injured? What if Nico died?

He suddenly scolded himself. He had a job to do; this was not the time for this. He put on his game face and readied himself for what he had to do.

He heard the police cars and the ambulances, and a few moments later the worst patients were rolled in. 

Will’s heart clenched at the sight of them. This is why he became a doctor, to help people. And these people needed all the help they could get. 

For the next three hours and 45 minutes, he helped a woman who was shot in the arm twice. A man whose knee cap was split apart. A policewoman who had knife wounds on her thigh.

By the end of it, WIll was exhausted. The police officers were still there; some with their collegues who were injured, and the others who were still on duty. Will sneakily tried to look for Nico, but he couldn’t find him. He was probably off duty already. 

When Will went to the break room, where he seriously needed a bottle of water, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

Nico wore his titled smile, and his hair was messier, probably from running his hands through it a ton. He seemed paler, but Will blamed it on the flourecent hospital lights. His arms were crossed over his stomach. 

“Hi, doc. Didn’t expect seeing you here.” The joke was carried by sarcasm and  a slight accent. Something European. Italian?

“Nico, it’s Will. And I was looking for you earl-”, Will was interupted by Nico collapsing into his arms. On the side of his stomach were blood seeping through his uniform. The years of training and 6 months in the ER took over Will, and he carried Nico, who was meek and trying to keep awake. He ordered a nurse to prepare an operating room. 

“Holy shit, Nico. What the hell. Why didn’t you get treated.” Will chided the other.

“Despite me bleeding out, this is kind of romantic, right? I fainted in your arms and you caught me and now you’re trying to save my life.”, The words were a whisper that came from pale lips.

Finally, they wheeled Nico into the room, and Will started to work. Apparently there was a stab wound in his side. It wasn’t deep, but it was deep enough. After almost four hours, Nico certainly lost a crap ton of blood. 

It took an hour to stitch Nico and get him stable. Will watched his vitals for another half hour to make sure. They wheeled Nico into a room, and when Will made sure he had no more patients, he decided to visit Nico. 

He was going up to Nico’s room to check on him, and when he opened the door, he saw a tall man sitting on the chair by Nico’s bed. He had shocking white-blonde hair, and broad shoulders. He turned around to look who entered, and his electric blue eyes seemed to take one look at him and know all of his secrets. He wore a police uniform identical to Nico’s. He was like a blond intimidating Superman. 

“Are you the doctor Nico’s been telling me all about?”, a smile split his face, and Will noticed a scar on his upper lip.  

Will expected to see the other awake, but Nico was sound asleep. He looked so peaceful. Will was pleased to see the color returning to his cheeks.

“I’m just the doctor that stitched him up. I’m no big deal.”, Will smiled at the man.

The blond laughed. “Jason Grace. Nice to meet you. Thank you for stitching this idiot up”

“Dr. Will Solace. It’s no problem. Only doing my job.”, WIll returned the smile. 

“Paging, Dr. Solace. Paging, Dr. Solace.” A voice interupted them. 

“I guess I have to go. Nice to meet you, Jason. Tell Nico... Tell him to rest up and stay off his feet for a while. Doctor’s orders.”, Will exited the room, trying to hide his dssapointment with a smile. He never got to talk to Nico. 

A week passed and Will was going home at midnight, again feeling exhausted. 

There were few cars driving on the road this hour. Will just wanted to go home, and sleep for preferably a month.

About three blocks away from his house, a siren went on behind him, and made him pull over. 

“Oh my God. This can’t be happening.”, Will laid his head on his steering wheel an closed his eyes, cursing his life. 

He heard the officer’s footsteps approach his open window, “Officer, I wasn’t speeding, but if I was it was proably because I just worked a 15 hour shift. I just want to fucking sleep, and my house is just three blo-

“You know. You should really take a day off.”, Nico’s tilted smile woke Will up like a double shot of expresso.

“How about you? You just got stabbed a week ago, if I remember correctly.” The golden flecks in Nico’s dark eyes danced playfully in the streetlight. 

“A really pretty doctor stitiched me up, and now I’m good as new. I never got to say thank you.”, Will felt a familiar blush on his face. 

“Is that why you pulled me over at midnight? To say thank you and call me pretty?”, Will raised an eyebrow, in faux annoyance. 

For the first time since they met, Nico looked nervous. His olive suddenly had a pink hue to it and his eyes couldn’t meet Will’s. “Well, I was just wondering... If you... When... you have that day off, would you like to go out me?”

“I’d... like that. I’d love to Nico. Saturday, then?”, Will mirrored Nico’s ear to ear smile. When Nico smiled, Will felt all the tiredness leave his body. He felt his heart was about to burst. It was absoluetly addicting. 

Nico leaned in and softly kissed Will’s lips. He felt the small grin on Nico’s lips. Nico tasted of too sweet coffee and cinnamon. Will felt strange, a good strange. He knew it was too early to be in love, but the kiss just felt so right, it was hard not believe that he was meant to kiss those lips for the rest of his life.

#solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #will solace #nico di angelo #nico x will #will x nico #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #toa #trials of apollo #ari tries to write

[firstade-universe]

Clexa prompt: Clarke fussing and worrying over Lexa after a serious injury

“Come on, Eli. Come join Mama.” Lexa patted empty spot on the bed next to her and watched as her son looked around hesitantly. His bright blue eyes looked between the bed and the door as he shifted on his feet.

“But Mommy said I can’t bother you.” He whispered. Lexa frowned and clenched her jaw. It had been a month. A month of prodding and poking and fussing and being woken up to take meds every four hours. But mostly it had been a month of pain and not being able to hold her family like normal, like she wanted. Since the accident it was the only thing she wanted. The only difference being that the last week she had been at home instead of the hospital, but still the same pattern wore on. The four year old spitting image of Clarke didn’t quite comprehend what was going on, just that his Mama was hurt, but she’s getting better. “You know what else Mommy said? She said you have to help me feel better. You know what would make me feel better?” The tiny blonde shook his head, indicating that he didn’t know. “Cuddles make me feel better.”

With that, Eli sprung into action, climbing up the foot of the bed and coming to a stop on his knees next to Lexa. If she wasn’t afraid he’d pout at her, she would laugh at how comically slow he laid himself down and turned his body towards hers, molding himself there for the first time in a month.

She dropped a kiss on the top of his head and sighed contentedly. “Tell me about school. Is that Aden boy still hoarding all of the legos?” This launched Eli into an epic tale of the trials and tribulations of preschool.

Meanwhile, downstairs

“I’m just so exhausted, Anya. I thought it was going to be easier having her home, but it’s not.” Clarke sighed into the camera on the laptop. Skyping Anya, Lexa’s best friend and the one that introduced them all of those years ago, was her only solace in the day so far.

“Clarke, she’s healing. She’ll be better in no time. It’s just a little while longer and everything will be back to normal.” Anya tried, but she could tell her words weren’t making any impact. “I love you three, you know that. If I could be there, I would be. I am sorry you’re doing this alone.”

As if on cue, an alarm for Lexa’s medicine sounded and the blonde dropped her hands into her face and rubbed with a sigh. “Every time one of those goes off I remember how we almost lost her, it’s a nightmare. Gotta go Ahn, duty calls. Love you.”

“Love you too, kiddo.” The screen winked out and Clarke sighed for another long second before she stood from the island bar stool and grabbed the meds from the container on the counter. She filled a glass of water and slowly made her way up the stairs. As she got closer to the master bedroom, the one her and Lexa have shared for the past seven years, she hears excited jabbering coming her son. She stopped, hand on the door knob ear pressed toward the opening and smiled as she heard the story of the two princess who should have never fallen in love, but did. A tale Lexa made up when he was only about a year old, about their love. Now, Eli knew it by heart and told it when he was sleepy. She slowly pushed the door open and was met with the site of wide blue eyes and for the first time in a month, shining green ones.

“Elijah Jacob Griffin-Woods, what are you doing in that bed?” Clarke cocked her head to the side and watched as her son gulped and looked between her and his Mama.

“Mama said she needed cuddles to feel better.” He squeaked and patted the bed next to him. “Come on Mommy!”

“Mama needs to rest and be calm.” Clarke countered, pointing her gaze at her wife.

“Clarke. For god’s sake I need a break.” Lexa finally snapped. “I need a break of the hovering and eggshells and meds and the fuc- the fussing. I just want to hang with Eli. I just want to hold you, but you won’t stop for two seconds and relax enough to let me. I’m not dying! I’m right here.”

“But you almost did!” Clarke all but screamed. “Eli, baby. Please go to your room or down to the living room. Mama and I need to have a talk.” The boy nodded with wide eyes, not use to his mom’s arguing, and slid off the bed. He rushed passed her and out the door, then it click closed behind him. “You almost died and I was terrified. So I am sorry if I hover, if I care. I can’t fucking help it Lex! You should have seen you in that bed on the first night. I have never been more scared of anything in my life.” Tears ran down pale cheeks as she yelled, anger about the situation, fear about it taking over. She didn’t register it as Lexa struggled to stand and move toward her, but eventually she was wrapped in a tight embrace. “You should be in bed.”

“Shut up and let me hold you.” Lexa whispered quietly. They stood there for a long minute, until Clarke felt Lexa sway a bit. “I’m sorry. Okay? I am sorry I scared you. I get that it was traumatic for you as well and I apologize for not taking that into consideration. But I need my wife back, alright? I need you Clarke, not a nurse. You. I need you to cuddle with me at night and I need our son to tell me his preschool woes. I need normal. I’ll call the number they gave us and get a nurse okay? I know I still have more recovery to go, but I need the love of my life and you need a break.”

Clarke nodded breathed out a sigh of relief, then helped Lexa back into the bed, careful of the wound on her stomach and side. “I’ll go get Eli and we can all take a nap, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.” When Lexa woke up an hour and a half later with her two favorite people in the world at her side, she felt better than she had all month.

[shadilver-week]

Prompt- Shadow got sick somehow and Silver has to take care of him

UM YES BLEASE

“Shadow?” Silver called, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the cool air conditioning of his boyfriend’s house. “I got your meds!”

His greeting was met with a cry of agony from upstairs. The albino stopped in his tracks, and shortly after remembered that he shouldn’t be surprised at such an anomaly. Shadow had felt under the weather for almost a week, until Silver finally convinced him to see a doctor the day before. Well, ‘under the weather’ was a generous phrase; Shadow felt more buried than anything at that point. Silver began up the stairs, and winced as another groan echoed through the house.

The albino tapped his timid knuckles on Shadow’s bedroom door, and peeked inside. “Shads?”

The ultimate life form looked the worse for wear; truly, it had to be the most vulnerable Silver had ever seen him. Curled up in the fetal position on his bed, face buried in his pillows, clutching his side - Shadow wasn’t right. It was almost scary, how odd of a situation it was. Silver creeped forward, distracting himself with the long-ignored television program that lit the room. He flicked a lamp on, and seated himself on the bedside.

“Shads?” Silver pursued, “How do you feel, edgy?”

“What do you think?” Shadow returned crossly before gingerly rolling onto his back, “It feels like I’m laying on a chaos spear.” He gritted his teeth, yelped, and clutched his side once more. “Where the hell have you been? That stuff wore off like an hour ago!”

Silver’s voice remained soft. “Sorry, traffic was crazy. I’m sorry you feel so bad…”

“I’m dying!”

Silver reached in his paper bag and pulled out a bottle of pills, satisfied by the way it rattled as he twirled it around. The white top was popped off. “Two, right?”

Shadow shook his head. “Three. They said my body’s so different that they have to- ah!”

Silver nodded, and hurried his movements as he slid Shadow his cup of lemonade on the nightstand. Shadow’s eyes shot wide at the pills, and it was then that Silver could make out some tears welling up in them. The ebony one swallowed hard. “Uh…”

Silver tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I… choked trying to swallow those last ones…”

The albino wrinkled his brow, but nodded. “Okay, one sec.”

Silver spent a few minutes downstairs before returning with a grin. In his hands, he held a cup of applesauce and a spoon. “I didn’t think the ultimate life form would have any trouble with some tiny pills.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“It’s okay, Blaze has the same problem.” Silver helped Shadow sit up, and then handed him the dreaded pills along with the applesauce. “I doubt you’re used to taking these, anyways.”

Shadow leaned over, groaning and grabbing at his side again. “I’ve never felt pain like this before…”

“Kidney stones just sound terrible.” Silver ran his hand over his boyfriend’s quills. “Here, put one of the pills on the spoon, and eat the applesauce with it.”

Shadow did as he was told, and was surprised by how easily the medicine went down. “See? That’s not so bad.” Silver smiled. “Don’t forget to drink your lemonade, they said it would help a lot.”

“Silver?”

“Yeah?”

Shadow bit his lip as he shifted onto his side. His tone was serene; his demeanor had completely changed from when Silver arrived. “Would you… would you be okay with staying here for a while?”

The albino chuckled. “Of course, Shads.”

The two laid down together for quite some time. Silver hugged Shadow from behind, running his hand along the ebony one’s aching flank all the while. He continued to do so even after Shadow drifted off to sleep, likely the best rest he had gotten all week. Silver eventually reached for the remote to turn the television off, and accidentally woke Shadow in the process.

“Sorry, Shads,” Silver whispered.

Shadow turned over with a lazy smile, and rested his hand on Silver’s, causing both of them to blush. “Thank you, Silv. For all your help with this.”

Silver was taken aback by Shadow’s sudden tenderness. “Any time. I couldn’t just let you suffer here.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Shadow admitted, diverting his eyes as he ran a few groggy fingers over his inflicted side - thankfully numb by that point.

The albino couldn’t form a response, and instead smiled again as he drew closer to Shadow. They locked lips as gently as they could, just to ensure they wouldn’t upset the calmness they had created. Silver giggled, “I’m sure it’s the meds talking, but I’ll take it. I love you too, edgy.”

“That reminds me,” Shadow muttered, “don’t you dare tell anyone I couldn’t swallow pills.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?”

“I mean it, Silver!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Silver!”

#shadilver #mod dark #thANK U I LOVE THINGS LIKE THIS #also i figured that shad couldn't get like a virus or a bug so i just went with kidney stones #bc it's something internal and also i have too much experience with them thEY S U C K #but shad will be ok he has a floofy bf to take care of him now #also random hc that silv can call shad edgy without getting punched #so now he calls him that as a term of endearment #he might've gotten punched the first time tho #also sorry this is kinda sucky i was trying to work on this between schoolwork lmfao #randomcitizen12