#I’m so glad I’m hopped up on anxiety meds right now

[phawareglobal]

Kaitlyn Salonga - phaware® interview 424

Canadian pulmonary hypertension patient, Kaitlyn Salonga discusses the impact PH has had on her job, her relationship and her mental wellbeing. 

My name is Kaitlyn Solanga. I'm from Vancouver, BC. I have been a patient of idiopathic PH since December, 2018. For about six months before I was in the hospital, I was having a hard time sleeping through the night. I'd wake up gasping for air. I wasn't sure what was wrong. I thought it was anxiety. At work I started to notice that I couldn't walk as far as I used to be able to without having to catch my breath. It got to the point where I couldn't walk across the street without having to pause. I went to get a puffer refilled once by a tele-doctor. They said, "You don't have asthma. Why are you getting a puffer refilled? You need to go get a chest x-ray." The next day I went to go get a chest x-ray, and I was admitted to the hospital for a month right before Christmas. That was how I spent my holiday season of 2018. It took about seven days for anybody to even say the words pulmonary hypertension. I was bounced around from hospital to hospital, because not every hospital, as I learned, has the same resources for tests and stuff. It just so happened that Vancouver is the lung center. At the time I was in a different city, so I had to get transferred over there and learn a whole new medical system and meet whole new doctors that said, "Okay, all of these other tests came back negative. Turns out you have pulmonary hypertension." For me, I was so far along that just going on oral meds wasn't really an option. It was straight to one of the IV pumps. Our nurse at the time described that to me. The first thing I remember asking is, "Oh, so I don't get to go swimming anymore?" I've tried a couple of things. I have tried like a water skiing jacket. I initially tested that out to see if it could help me wash my hair because that's one of the huge pain points of being on a pump is taking showers, doing the full hair wash because it's no longer hop in the bathroom, a five minute process. It is now, put the dressing on, put the gauze between, tape everything up. If you're really, really careful, you do the Glad Press'n Seal routine over the line and everything like that. I've tried a couple things. None of them have been fully swim-proof, but I'm hopeful. Unfortunately, the pump process was a two-parter for me, because it took them a while to get somebody who can actually do the Hickman line insertion. For the first week or so, I was on a PICC line, which means there is an IV in my arm instead of going straight through my chest. That was pain that I didn't need to experience. Then of course, I remember the worst parts of the procedure where they put my Hickman line in, unfortunately, but that led to actually being able to get on the medicine. Titrating was not fun. It was a lot of headaches and fatigue, but eventually you get a sweet spot where the medicine works for you and you can kind of walk again. You can walk across the street, you can walk to the grocery store, you can lift your groceries. That was a really, really nice point to get to, but it was a lot of work to get there. Originally when I was diagnosed, I was in a very high demand leadership role on a finance team, which was not ready to accommodate any sort of accessibility or time off needs. Once my short-term disability was up with that company, I actually had to leave it because their long-term disability options weren't going to work for me. Then I took a couple years off to just relearn how to become mobile, have time to titrate up more for my meds and stuff like that. Eventually I got to a point where I could work 30 hours a week, so not full-time, but enough to bring in a little bit of income, do it independently, and still be able to balance all of my medical issues at the same time. I was essentially in quarantine about a year longer than everybody else. Because I was diagnosed at the end of 2018, I kind of spent a little bit of time feeling kind of awful because of all the titrating. Then COVID happened. It was extra scary as somebody who was extra vulnerable. I was really careful to stay inside, kind of minimized my interactions with people who were in my life who had traveled or anything like that. It was really isolating and lonely for a while. I had a very good support system of virtual supports that I could reach out to. Because I was diagnosed in December, 2018, I just missed the last PHA Canada conference that was held in Vancouver, my hometown, by about three months. Every single time somebody tells me, "Oh, we had the last conference in Vancouver," I'm like, "I just missed it," so that's too bad but I was not without very good resources and supports. My nurses were very communicative. Everybody says they've got the best team, and I'm like, "No, I've got the best team." They were very quick to give me resources to PHA Canada and set me up with a counselor to kind of just work through all of this offline. It's very interesting being here solo. I recently left my partner of 11 years because they decided that they did not want to financially support a sick person anymore, which is something very harsh to hear. It really opened my eyes to a better version of life that I could be living maybe without somebody who felt that way about me. I am here and I am looking at these people with their husbands and their children and their mothers and their siblings that are all here to support them, and I'm very aware that I am doing a lot on my own. I unfortunately am estranged from some of my family and a lot of my friends are located a little bit further away from me than it is really accessible. I live alone in a studio apartment, but I'm trying to make it work. A lot of the space is dedicated to boxes of syringes and cassettes and everything like that, but it's a space that's mine and it's a new beginning. It's hard. It's definitely not easy. I do feel alone a lot of the time, but I know that I am not without people who I can reach out to if it gets to be at that point. Unfortunately, life doesn't stop for PH. It keeps on going, and it's unfortunately not the worst thing that I'm dealing with or that I have ever dealt with in my life. My body really just goes into fight or flight mode. I know I have to get this done to get through the day. So yeah, I'll mix even if the rest of my life is falling apart and even if I just had to pick up all of my stuff from my ex's house, but there's still tomorrow. Everybody's different. It's no use comparing your experience to someone else's to see at three months they were doing this much and maybe at three months you are still titrating up and still getting rid of these side effects and still going through all of that. There's no use saying, "Oh, my six minute walk test wasn't as good as theirs." Everybody's got their own experience and their own bodies, and eventually you'll find something that works for you that will be your saving grace. A lot of what I struggled with in the beginning was just learning how to get dressed in the morning with a pump and this tubing and where do I insert it? Does it go through the sleeve? Does it go through the collar of the shirt? Of course, it's different for men and women. We have to work with a bra or something like that. Where are you going to wear this giant game boy sized thing? How I perceived myself in the mirror was a very large hurdle that I had to come over, but I was very fortunate recently to work with another differently abled artist, and we actually did a boudoir photo shoot of me and my pump, where I was the feature and not my pump. I even wore my CPAP for it. It was the most really liberating and celebratory experience that I could not be more proud of those photos. My name's Kaitlyn Solanga, and I'm aware that I'm rare.

Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Follow us on social @phaware Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware Share your story: [email protected] @phacanada 

Listen and View more on the official phaware™ podcast site

#pulmonary hypertension #phaware #rare disease #lung disease #clinical trials #podcast #PH #asthma

[thealternatemind]

guess who was possibly exposed to covid cuz of shitty anti-maskers at an event I had to report on for work and now has to get triaged and tested? 😎

#I hate life #I’m so glad I’m hopped up on anxiety meds right now #normally I would be freaking out #super proud of myself for how I’m handling this #but I’m still pissed lol

[supernatural-jackles]

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 14

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 14

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,510

Warnings: Minor Angst, Mentions of Semi- Forced Prostitution, Manipulation,  Ketch is a HUGE douchebag, Anxiety, Sickness, FLUFF!

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Are you ready to hate Ketch more? Happy Sunday!! As always, I love hearing your thoughts on this story!! Only two parts left after this!! Happy reading!! 

Finally!

You were free.

 You walked out of the building with your head held high. You had just finished your last final for the semester and you had a great feeling about it. Not only was it your easiest exam, but it was also your longest. It was a simple essay about the things you had learned in the class throughout the semester and how they are relevant to your life outside of the class. It was simple and you finished it in record time. Now you were free until next semester. You had all of Christmas break to relax and spend time with your boyfriend.

 It was your turn to pick up the groceries this week. Dean had wanted you to grab him some shampoo, and a stick of deodorant. That was all he needed. You on the other hand needed a bunch of things. You were out of tampons and running low on pain meds for the monthly visit from Mother Nature. The fridge was practically empty, and the freezer was no better.

 You grabbed a cart before entering the store. It was pretty empty for just after one in the afternoon. Everyone was at work, which was going to make shopping a little easier. You went about your usual routine. Starting with fruits and vegetables. You had certain things you needed in order to make dinner. Dean liked to have lettuce in the house at all times because of how useful it was. Tacos, burgers, salads. So many purposes. You picked up some carrots, onions  and celery too, knowing it was going to get cold. It was always good to have for soup.

 You turned down the aisle you needed the most, grabbing a box of tampons off the shelf, along with a box of pads, just in case. Your cart was getting pretty full with all of the stuff you threw in on your way to this aisle. You headed straight, knowing that Dean’s shampoo would be at the other end when you hit something.

 “Y/N,” the female voice breathed out. Your eyes darted up, not believing what you were seeing. The last person you wanted to see, well, one of the last people you wanted to see anyways. Hell, you were surprised she spoke. 

 “Jo,” you scoffed, taking your cart to move away from her.

 “Y/N, wait,” she called out.

 “What? What do you want Jo?” you rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up in defeat. Her stomach was huge. She had to be seven months along by now, at least. You had to admit to yourself, it was a little funny to see her in this situation.

 “To apologize,” she frowned. “Can - can I take you out to lunch, please. I promise, one lunch and I’ll leave you be.”

 “What’s the point?” you sighed.

 “We were best friends at one point,” she sniffled.

 “Were,” you pointed out.

 “Please. I just - I want to explain things,” she shrugged. “Please. You can hate me all you want after. But I’d really like to tell you everything.”

 “Okay,” you nodded. “One lunch.”

 “I’ll meet you at Benny’s in twenty?” she told you.

 “Yeah,” you agreed.

 You went about the rest of your groceries. Your mind was reeling over what just happened. What could she possibly have to say to you, especially after all this time? She had Ketch, and she had a baby on the way. She was wasting her time, and quite frankly, so were you. There was nothing more she could say to make amends for all she did. She had proven she didn’t care about you long ago. 

 You paid for your groceries and headed back out to your car. Thankfully, you didn’t buy anything frozen so you could afford to sit for a little while without things melting. You didn’t think this lunch was going to last long whatsoever. You had visions of you storming out on her. Or worse, seeing Ketch there with her. You really didn’t want to do this. Why did you have to be a good person? Why did you have to listen to that tiny voice in the back of your head that was telling you to hear her out. 

 You pulled into the parking lot at Benny’s, taking the first available spot around the side of the building. You swallowed hard, knowing full well you should have ditched and headed home. You held your head high, willing yourself to stay confident. You didn’t want her to see you were weak or hurt by this. You were over this now. You were over Ketch and you had moved on. Your life was going better than it had been for a long time. You weren’t about to resort back to how things were before. 

 Jo was sitting in one of the booths that the group of you used to sit in late at night when you were drunk. They served the best of everything in this diner. It was a shock that you and Dean hadn’t eaten here yet. He’d like everything here, you thought to yourself. She had her hands out in front of her, linked together. You could see she was nervous. She had every right to be after what she had done to you.

 “Hi,” you greeted her. Her head flicked up, her eyes meeting yours.

 “Hi,” she swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

 “I’m a woman of my word,” you said plainly, taking a seat in front of her. You kept your expression emotionless. 

 “Y/N, I’m so sorry, for everything,” she breathed out. “Words can’t even begin to describe how sorry I am for what I’ve done to you.”

 “You’re damn right,” you scoffed. “There is nothing you can say that is going to make up for two years of it, Jo. Nothing. I don’t know what your intentions were when you wanted to talk, but if you thought I was just going to forgive you and we’d be best friends again, then you are stupid.”

 “Y/N, I’m not expecting your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I just wanted you to know my side of it. I should have told you about it. I really should have, but I was in trouble,” she began. “I- I was running out of money about two years ago. My mom only left me a little bit of money, the rest had to go towards paying off her debts, and everything else. I needed a job, so I asked Ketch if he could get me a job somewhere. A waitress at the country club, anything! I was desperate. I had nothing. I was about to be kicked out of my apartment.  He told me he had a job for me and to show up at his place at nine. I thought I was helping with a party or something. Turns out he was offering me money to sleep with Mick. So I did. I made a couple of grand for a couple of nights. I thought that was it. I had enough to keep my apartment, and I got the job on campus like I told you.  Then he told me that he’d pay me more for a threesome. I figured the extra cash would help so I agreed.  I didn’t know it was him until after the fact. He’s been paying me to keep quiet about it and to keep sleeping with him. He didn’t want to screw things up with you. He does love you, I want you to know that that part wasn’t made up. He was pissed and heartbroken when you didn’t show up for the wedding. I found out I was pregnant a few days after the wedding-”

 “I’m sorry, but he didn’t love me if he was sleeping with you,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry that things turned out that way for you, I am. But I wish someone would have told me I was wasting my time on him. I could have been happy with someone else. I was going to marry him! Why didn’t you stop that? Why weren’t you my friend? Why was he more important than that?”

 “You’re right. I realize that now. I’m nearly eight months pregnant with his baby; a baby he doesn’t want. I screwed up my life. I know he’s not going to stick around when I have her,” she admitted. “But I want you to know that he’s not over you. He’s convinced that he’s going to win you back. He’s just giving you space.”

 “I’m with someone else now,” you shared. “Ketch is dead to me as far as I’m concerned.”

 “Good for you. I hope this one treats you much better than he did. You deserve so much better than Ketch was to you. He controlled you too much. You look happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. You haven’t messed your life up like I have.”

 “It’s not completely your fault,” you shrugged. “You didn’t exactly have a choice.”

 “I had choices, I just made the wrong ones until I couldn’t get out of them,” she swallowed hard. “I’m glad you’re okay after all of it. I’m glad nothing happened to you. You deserve a better life than what was given to you.”

 “It took me a long time to be okay,” you admitted. “I - I wish you the best with your life, and your baby. Congratulations on the girl, by the way. I hope for your sake, he sticks around to help you. For once, he should pay for his mistakes.”

 “Who knows with him,” she whispered. “His parents are being more than supportive. Makes up for him.”

 “Good. I’m glad,” you nodded.

 “I should let you go, get back to your boyfriend and your life. You’ve got groceries,” she reminded you. “Thank you for coming.”

 “Yeah,” you breathed out. “Good luck with everything.”

 “Can - can I call you after she’s born?” she questioned.

 “Sure,” you agreed. “Take care.”

 You hopped back in your car, peeling out of the parking lot to head home. There was a part of you that felt really bad for her. It all started because she needed money. All because her mom died suddenly and she couldn’t handle things on her own. She made bad choices after bad choices and ended up in an even worse situation with a monster. You understood where she was coming from. You were happy you sat down with her and learned what you did. Ketch was an asshole, but then again you already knew that. It just sucked it took her this long to come forward. It didn’t matter to you at this point. You were over it. 

 You pulled into the driveway, finding Dean’s car still sitting in it’s usual spot. Was he home from work early today? It was rare for him to be home early. You managed to take all the bags inside in one go. The front door was already unlocked for you, and quite frankly, you couldn’t wait to see your handsome boyfriend when you walked inside.

 “Dean, I’m home,” you called out as you shut the door. Pure silence. Not a single sound from the house. You shrugged it off as you kicked your shoes off, taking the grocery bags to the kitchen.

 You began unpacking them, putting everything on the counters before putting them in their respective places in the house. It looked like a lot more in the cart than it did when you had it on the kitchen counter.

 “Hi,” his deep voice called out. You smiled, turning around to face him. Your face dropped when you saw him. His nose was red, his eyes a little puffy. He looked exhausted standing there in a green henley and pyjama pants.

 “Hi handsome,” you cocked your head to the side. “No offense babe, but you look a little under the weather.”

 “I caught a damn cold,” he pouted. Your heart melted at how adorable his pout was. He could get you in a lot of trouble with a face like that.

 “Poor baby,” you frowned. “I can make you some soup if you want?”

 “Would you mind? I feel like shit - no I feel worse than shit,” he admitted. “My nose is stuffy, my head is pounding. My throat is killing me. The worst part is that I can’t even kiss my girlfriend when she gets home from finishing her last exam.”

 “Come kiss my cheek,” you smiled. “I’m not afraid of your germs.”

 He slowly stepped over to you, a smile creeping up on his lips. You reached your arm out, your heart rate picking up as he grew closer, slipping into your hold. His lips pressed against your cheek, lingering a little longer than you anticipated.

 “How did your final go?” he asked you, moving to sit on top of the counter.

 “Aced it,” you grinned. “As you can see I went grocery shopping. Any kind of soup you want?”

 “Can you make tomato rice?” he pleaded, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

 “Anything for that face,” you beamed. “I want you to go into my bathroom, the drawer on the left. There is some dayquil in there that should help you feel a bit better. I’ll give you the nyquil before bed tonight.”

 “Thank you,” he muttered. “I’ll take these with me.” He grabbed the two boxes of yours off the counter before heading to your room. You smiled as you watched him walk away.

 You managed to get the rest of the groceries away without a problem. You felt bad for Dean. Having a cold was the worst and he sounded like he was suffering. You could only hope that the dayquil helped him, along with the soup you were making. You didn’t like seeing him sick.

 “Y/N,” he called out, his voice coming out raspy.

 “Hmm?” you cocked your eyebrow, glancing over at him.

 “I would help but-”

 “Go lay down. I’ll bring your soup in for you in a little bit. I’ll hold you later, play with your hair the way you like it,” you assured him.

 “I’m so damn lucky to have you,” he muttered the best he could.

 “Nah, that’s me,” you winked.

 You pulled out the supplies you needed to make his tomato and rice soup. You couldn’t have been more thankful for the vegetables you picked up. You had everything you needed to make it. You just hoped it was good. You hoped it made him feel a million times better. You didn’t like seeing him sick like this. He looked miserable.

 It took about an hour to get the soup done. It looked and smelled delicious. You couldn’t wait to try it for the first time. You placed two bowls on a tray you had tucked away in a cupboard, along with two glasses of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers.

 You walked over to Dean, seeing him curled up on the couch with a blanket covering his body. He was exhausted. You just wanted to hold him until he felt better. He had what looked to be Snow Day, playing on the tv. Not that he was paying attention.

 “Babe, time for some soup,” you whispered, nudging him awake. He let out a groan, shifting from his lying position just a little.

 “Sorry,” he mumbled, “tired.”

 “I know,” you frowned. “I’ve got your soup, and some crackers. I hope this makes you feel a little better.”

 “Me too,” he let out a dry laugh. “Thank you for making me this.”

 “‘Course, boyfriend,” you giggled. “I hope you like it.”

 “I’m sure I will,” he nodded, taking the spoon off the tray. The steam coming off the soup was still pretty strong. You took a spoonful, blowing on it before taking your first bite. The flavours hit your taste buds instantly. It was delicious. One of the nicest soups you had ever made. Dean looked like he was enjoying it. “This is delicious, sweetheart.”

 “Thank you,” you beamed at him. “Fingers crossed this makes you feel better.”

 “Just seeing you makes me feel better,” he shared with you.

 “You’re such a sap,” you giggled. “I love that about you.”

 “I gotta make up for not being able to kiss you for the next couple of days,” he shrugged.

 “You’re cute,” you smiled softly. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

 “I’m the lucky one,” he shrugged. “How was your day anyways?”

 “Interesting,” you started. “I uh- I ran into Jo in the grocery store. She asked me to have lunch with her.”

 “Did you end up going?” he questioned, taking another bite of his soup.

 “Yeah, I did. We didn’t eat lunch or anything, but I heard what she had to say,” you began. “She told me about what happened between her and Ketch. How it all got started. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it at first. But I was kind of glad she told me. She was having money problems after her mom died, and Ketch offered her money to sleep with his friend. It ended up that he was paying her to sleep with him and to keep it quiet after that. She told me that he loves me and all that jazz. He’s apparently heartbroken that we’re over and he doesn’t want anything to do with her or their kid.”

 “That really doesn’t surprise me all that much,” he admitted. “Did she apologize to you?”

 “Yeah,” you nodded. “She did. But we’re never going to be friends like we were before. Or even acquaintances.”

 “Yeah, I wouldn’t be either. I’m glad she apologized to you though. She owned you that much. It's a little sad it took her this long to do it.”

 “Yeah,” you agreed. “I told her that part of my life was over and I had moved on with someone pretty great.” you nudged him. You looked over at him, seeing the smile appear across his cheeks. You liked seeing him smile like that. You knew you did a good job of making him feel wanted and that was something he needed.

 “I’m not that great,” he shrugged. “Better than Ketch in some ways-”

 “Dean Winchester, one, don’t you dare compare yourself to someone like Ketch, ever! And second, you are the best person I know,” you argued.

 “Y/N, I can’t give you what he surely could have. I’m not rich or have connections like he does-”

 “And I’m not asking you to,” you assured him, letting out a breath. You glanced over at him, seeing the sad look in his eyes. That same sad look he wore for a little while when he moved in all those months ago. He had the same look he had from time to time when he didn’t feel so great. “Dean, that’s not really the problem is it?”

 “I just- I’m having an off day, and I’m not sure I deserve you.”

 “C’mere,” you muttered. He placed his half eaten bowl of soup on the table in front of the couch, you doing the same. There was no way you were letting him feel like this. He shifted closer to you and you opened your arms up for him to move into. He rested his head on your shoulder, melting into your hold. You pressed your lips against his heated forehead before resting your cheek on his head.

 “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

 “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You know that,” you stated. “Ketch isn’t half the man you are. He may have more money than he needs, and connections to a lot of people. That’s what my mom wants. Not me. I don’t care how much you make, or what kind of job you have. I care about you. I care about the person you are, and the relationship we have. Nothing materialistic matters to me. Not in the same way it does to everyone else I grew up with. As far as I’m concerned, this is exactly where I want to be. You’re exactly who I want to be with. My best friend.”

 “Me too,” he nodded.

 “Good,” you smiled softly. “I’ll always be here for you. Whether it’s when you’re dying from sickness, or your head’s not okay. I’ll always be here to make sure you’re okay, Dean.”

 “Goes the same the other way around,” he sniffled before clearing his raspy throat. “I love you, you know that?”

 You swore, your heart was going to leap out of your chest. Dean just muttered those three words to you. He said them first. He had a fever of one hundred and something, and you knew he was high on cold medication, but he still said them. Your lip curled upwards, tugging him closer to you before you placed another kiss to the top of his head.

 “I know,” you nodded. “I love you too.”

 “Really?” he asked, his voice going a little higher than normal.

 “Really,” you stated. “My poor sick boyfriend.”

 “Is it okay that I said it?” he mumbled. “It’s not too fast?”

 “Not too fast,” you whispered. “Thank you for saying them. Means a lot to me that you do.”

 “Means a lot that you do too,” he said lowly. “I’m pretty sure I took nyquil.”

  “I’m pretty sure you did too, babe,” you giggled. “Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

  “Mhhh good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your responses and comments are what keep me sharing stories like this one! 

#The Man on the Side of the Road #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester One Shot #Dean Winchester Imagine #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fanfic #Dean one shot #Dean Imagine #Dean fanfic #Dean Drabble #Dean Winchester Drabble #Supernatural #Supernatural One Shot #Supernatural Imagine #Supernatural Fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural x Reader #SPN #SPN One Shot #SPN Imagine #SPN Fanfic #SPN Drabble #SPN Fanfiction #supernatural-jackles

[wazzupmrstark]

breaking curfew [part eight] || th x reader

A/N: day idk of quarantine. time is meaningless. 

Summary: When you got the job to be a counselor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. But you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. In fact, you thought you’d never have to see Tom Holland again. But he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? What kind of asshole would do something like that?

Warnings: swearing, prescription drugs, alcohol mention, anxiety mention

What I listened to while writing: the breaking curfew playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter​ + CALM by 5sos

Word Count: 2.4k

Series Masterlist

You’ve only been x-rayed twice in your entire life- not counting regular trips to the dentist- before now. Once when you thought you broke your ankle, (but it was really just sprained) and another time when you had pneumonia. Still, neither of those times had been quite as intense as this. Maybe that was because your mom wasn’t with you like she had been before. Or maybe it was because Tom, the boy who was pretending to be your boyfriend, the one that had just undressed you minutes ago, was standing just a few feet away behind the glass. Or in all honesty, maybe it was because you were hopped up on codeine, but who could say?

The x-ray technician draped the lead apron over you and told you to hold your breath while she ran back to operate the machine. She had you lay in a few different positions and had a nurse help her move your arm gingerly each time to lessen the strain on your end. 

It was a painful process, but they moved as fast as they could so that you were back in your room within a few minutes. 

“How’re you feeling?” Tom asked as he sat back in the plastic chair by your bedside. 

“Kinda dizzy.”

“Yeah, you couldn’t walk five steps without running into a wall, I practically had to carry you back here.”

“Fuck off!”

“Glad the pain meds haven’t completely altered your personality,” he said, shaking his head. 

“I feel a little nauseous too,” you added and rolled your neck uncomfortably.

Tom sat up a little more, eyebrows raised in concern. “Are you going to throw up? Do I need to get someone?”

“It’s probably fine,” you shrugged.

“I don’t know about that...  you took those meds on an empty stomach- and that’s probably why you’re smashed to hell too.”

“It’s fiiine, Tom.” You yawned. “I just wanna nap.”

He chuckled and pulled the sheet that had been gathered around your waist up to your shoulders and laid it gently over them. 

“That seems like a good idea.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Good night, y/n.”

It felt like you blinked and you were being shaken awake again. You groaned and attempted to sit up on your elbows, cursing when you tried to put pressure on your injured arm.

“Easy, easy,” Tom said, helping you lay back down on your back. “Um, the doctor’s here, babe.”

“Babe?” you wondered aloud, still clearly disoriented as fuck. 

“Yeah, love. He’s here to tell you about your arm.”

Tom was pretending to be your boyfriend. Right. That made a lot more sense. Why else would he call you babe? 

The doctor introduced himself to you and Tom and talked briefly about what he was looking for in the x-rays as he set them up in the light display for you both to see. 

“So the bad news is that your arm is broken,” he explained, and you felt your heart sink even though you knew it was coming. “But the good news is that it’s just a minor fracture- barely visible on your radius there. It’ll only take about four to six weeks to heal in a cast, and you’ll be good as new.”

You bit your bottom lip wilted visibly. “Six weeks? The summer will be over by then!”

“It shouldn’t be an issue, unless you’re involved in a super active sport or-”

“We’re camp counselors-” Tom said abruptly, irritation at the edge of his voice.

“Oh, yes well you might run into some complications, but you should still be able to do most everything. Even with a cast.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” he nodded. “I’ll print out a couple pamphlets and some other literature for you on how to care for your arm and cast and etcetera, and you should be fine.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’ll also prescribe you some pain killers. Probably not as strong as the codeine they gave you earlier, but a lighter dosage for a few days before switching to extra-strength ibuprofen might help you get back into the swing of things.”

You just nodded, not really understanding any of the words he was saying. You hoped Tom absorbed more of it than you did because you were honestly checked the fuck out. 

“I’m just going to grab the plaster and gauze for your cast and I’ll be right back. What’s your favorite color?”

“Orange,” you said without a second thought.

Tom waited until the doctor was gone before giving you a confused look. “Why’d you say that?”

You gave him the same look back. “What do you mean?”

“Orange isn’t your favorite color.”

“Says who?”

“Your favorite color’s always been green.”

“H-how’d you know that?”

“You really think I don’t remember you cheating your way onto the green team at mega relay every summer?”

“I would not cheat!” you argued.

“You’re supposed to pick a headband out of the box randomly! I don’t think peeking through your fingers and conveniently grabbing a green one every single time counts as random.”

“Well you don’t have any evidence, so good luck proving that in court.”

Tom held his hands up in surrender. “Damn, who said anything about court?”

“I just like being prepared.”

“But wait, why did you get orange?”

You shook your head absentmindedly and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s Theo’s favorite color. I thought she’d like it.” 

“That’s... really sweet.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Holland. I can be nice sometimes.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Before you could say anything snarky back the doctor came back in with a written prescription and everything he needed to set and wrap your arm. You tensed and looked away as he set to work on it, using an alcoholic wipe to sanitize your hand and forearm before wrapping it.  

“You can hold her other hand if you want, Tom,” the doctor said, probably thinking that would reassure you, even though in reality it made you way more anxious. 

You had reached for his hand just a few minutes ago, unprompted. But in your defense, you were very out of it. You were still out of it now, but the thought doing it again was ironically making your hands sweat. You guys didn’t really know each other... like that, and even though it was just pretend it felt weirdly intimate.You wouldn’t blame him if he stayed put where he was.

But to your surprise, Tom didn’t even hesitate before grabbing your hand and interlocking his fingers with yours. His palm was a little clammy too, which was a relief. You didn’t want to be the only one with a sweaty hand and gross him out or something, even if you were the one in agonizing pain. 

You squeezed tight as your arm was moved into position for the cast. It hurt like a bitch and for a hot second the nausea returned and you thought you might pass out. 

“So, how did you guys meet?” the doctor asked casually as he worked. “Tom, if I’m not mistaken you’re English? And y/n you’re not? How did that play out?”

“We met at work,” Tom said without missing a beat. 

You were kind of taken aback by how seriously he was taking his role. It really didn’t matter if he was actually your boyfriend or not, it’s not like he’d get kicked out if they found out he wasn’t. 

“At the summer camp?”

“Yeah, it’s really well-known for its international program. We get a lot of campers from all over.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Are you long distance during the year then?”

You and Tom traded looks with each other. Why did you have to get stuck with the chattiest orthopedic surgeon ever? Your fucking luck.

“We are, yeah.” Tom answered for you both again. “We trade off who visits who. We’ve both been in school so we don’t get to see each other very often, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Summers must be nice then, no? You get to see each other all the time.”

He forced a chuckle. “You have no idea.”

-

The girls practically tackled you the second you got back to camp, and you were immediately bombarded with a chorus of “can I sign it? can I sign it?” from every single one of them. 

“You can all sign it!” you promised. “After you brush your teeth!”

You had never seen them so excited to get ready for bed ever. They were almost giddy about it. 

Your arm was still pretty sore, and the pills were starting to wear off, but you were glad to finally be back in your cabin. You couldn’t wait to knock the heck out and sleep for as long as possible. 

The ride back from the emergency room had been much more peaceful than the ride there. Zendaya was a little pissed you’d disappeared from the waiting room without a word, she was mostly just glad you were getting to go home and rest. You ate your fries and chicken nuggets in the car, and accidentally ended up dozing off on Tom a few times, only to be jostled awake by bumps in the road. 

And now that the day was winding down you could relax and spend some time with your campers. 

“Me first!” Theo exclaimed, racing up to you with toothpaste still in her mouth. You laughed as she scribbled her name in jagged letters across your arm, putting a smiley face in the O. “We have the same favorite color!”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her so you just laughed and nodded. “Now, go spit your toothpaste out before you choke!”

May was next. She signed her name right where your pinky was, almost as if she was trying to hide it. Amalia wrote her name in cursive just above your elbow, Grace signed her name with a heart at the end right next to Amalia’s, and Eva scrawled hers on top of your hand at the edge of your cast. 

You admired the girls’ masterpiece and showed it off to them. “What do you guys think?”

“It’s cool!” Amalia said, and the other girls added their agreements. “I’ve always wanted a cast!”

“Me too!” Grace chimed in. “Or crutches!” 

“I think it’ll definitely make me stand out,” you said as you sat on the floor and settled against one of the bunks for your girls’ daily Good Night Circle. 

“Maybe it’ll help you get a boyfriend!” Theo piped up, now wearing her big metal retainers.

“Or a girlfriend?” Evangeline pointed out very matter-of-factly.

The others were quick to jump on board. 

“Maybe one of the other counselors will see it and fall in love with you!”

“Do you want a boyfriend or a girlfriend?”

“We could help you!”

“Yeah! My dad says I’m a really good matchmaker!”

“You girls are silly!” you said, sighing in exasperation. “I think it’s time for bed.” 

There was less resistance than usual- maybe they were taking pity on you because you were broken- but there were still the typical whines and protests as you tucked them in. 

“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” you said in a singsong voice as turned off the lights and climbed into your own bed. 

And you finally.... laid there staring at the ceiling. For hours. Despite being completely drained in every sense of the word, you couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing and you couldn’t get comfortable with your arm bent at a weird angle. And were you remembering everything that had happened that day wrong- or had Tom actually helped you get undressed? And then get dressed? Had he really held your hand? Twice?

You wiggled your fingers as if the movement would replicate the feeling of his hand in yours, or give you an answer of some kind, but of course there was nothing. Just that same emptiness you felt in the pit of your stomach. 

Realistically, you knew all of those things really had happened, and even if you couldn’t remember the specifics, you remembered the little things. Like the pink tint that highlighted Tom’s cheeks when he edged the straps of your swimsuit down your shoulders, or the rough calluses that had tickled your palms when you held hands with him. They reminded you that it wasn’t all some weird dream... or nightmare, rather. 

You pushed your covers off, suddenly feeling very hot. You sat upright and took a few deep breaths to steady yourself, trying to force all the thoughts from your mind. Thinking about Tom in a positive manner was one of, if not the number one way your brain could betray you. Even barely brushing the subject had you breaking out into a cold sweat. The boy was really living rent free in your mind and not in a good way. 

Everything felt wrong, and not for the first time this summer you wished you could pour yourself a drink. Maybe it wouldn’t help with any of your problems, but it sure would take the edge off. 

Even though it was futile, you flopped back on your bed in the hope that sleep would have mercy on you and finally let you rest. You shut your eyes and tried a few of the meditation methods you’d learned from YouTube to make yourself sleepy, but even then you couldn’t shake the low buzz of anxiety that nudged at the back of your mind.

Fucking Tom Holland. 

If you weren’t going to get any sleep you might as well waste time on your phone. You unlocked it, fought the urge to google ‘can you pass out if you punch yourself hard enough,’ and opened Twitter instead. You didn’t need to show up to breakfast with a black eye and a broken arm tomorrow morning. 

Your eyelids were finally starting to feel heavy and the screen on your phone was getting dimmer and dimmer as you began to drift off when sudden knocking at your window startled you out of your half-asleep state. 

The first thought you had was that someone was trying to break in, but then you remembered that you were at a summer camp and there was literally nothing valuable in the cabin so you let yourself relax a little bit. 

When you squinted a bit, you recognized the figure on the other side of the glass and flicked them off with your casted hand, even though you were fairly sure they couldn’t see you sitting there in the dark. It was confirmed when they knocked again and you had to scramble to push open the window so they wouldn’t wake your campers- at this God-forsaken hour. 

“What the fuck do you want?”

this one was tricky to get figure out but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[poisonedapples]

Roman Gets Help 1/5: Bad Nights

Part One: Virgil

Part Summary: Roman is always trying to make his anxiety more manageable with a bunch of different tactics. But a disorder is a disorder, and some days are worse than others. But at least his best friend Virgil is around to help.

Part of the Service Dog AU!

Pairings: Platonic Prinxiety

Warnings: Past panic attacks, medication, anxiety, Remus making poop jokes because he’s Remus, swearing and food mentions

Word Count: 2,751

Taglist: @hold-our-destiny @pricklyfish777 @romansleftshoulderpad

Notes: Cornybird on Ao3 deserves Many Squishmallows for editing so much of my stuff, including this. So send visual squishmallow vibes to her, she deserves it

Virgil really should have known something was weird when Roman didn’t text back.

The two had made plans during lunch to meet up at Roman’s house so he could help with Virgil’s Spanish homework. Roman was infinitely better with language stuff than Virgil could ever dream to be, and even when the work was done, it was always nice to hang out in his room and get away from his wild parents every once in a while. But since Roman left school early and Virgil had to stay after for band practice, he hadn’t heard or seen Roman in a while.

That in itself wasn’t weird, though. What was weird was that when Virgil texted him that he was on his way, Roman didn’t respond. Not even with an emoji reaction or a simple ‘okay’. But even then, what was even weirder was that Virgil was right outside his door, texting Roman to open it for him, and he still wasn’t responding.

Virgil checked the last three messages he sent to Roman’s phone. All of them were marked as delivered but not read, which was also very concerning. What could Roman be doing that he hadn’t checked his phone in thirty minutes? Virgil got anxious when he didn’t read messages immediately, let alone waiting half an hour.

Virgil sent him one last text before putting his phone away. You there? I’m outside.

No response. Virgil knocked on the door and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting and shifting on his feet for someone to open the door. After a couple minutes, he started to think Roman had just forgotten.

However, a slight spark of hope rose up in him at the sound of the front door opening. But when Virgil looked up from his shoes to the person at the door, he felt his shoulders sag.

It wasn’t Roman who had opened the door. There was no shy and apologetic smile with Princess right under his feet. Instead, it was his bastard brother in ripped jeans and a green tank top, blowing bubblegum like a bully in a 90s Nickelodeon show.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite emo! What brings you here, Raven Way?” Remus asked, leaning on the door frame with a cocky smile.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’ve already used that one.”

“It’s my favorite nickname for you. It’s the perfect brand of insulting. It has spice to it.”

“I’m glad you’re entertained then. Is Roman out somewhere?”

Remus cocked an eyebrow. “No, he’s been up in his room. Last I checked he was as passed out as a corpse.”

“Okay...can I come in then?”

Remus smiled and opened the door for Virgil, taking a bow as he stepped inside. Virgil rolled his eyes again. This guy is so fucking weird. “You know where his room and the shitter is. Just follow the trail of dog hair to his royal highness.”

“You terrify me, Remus.”

“Good! That’s the aesthetic I’m going for. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a bigass thing of chili dip in the fridge that may or may not be expired. We’ll see!” Virgil’s eyes narrowed as Remus skipped back to the kitchen and right to the fridge, but he really didn’t want to be around for that mess. Instead, Virgil went upstairs and turned left to Roman’s room, the colorful Disney decorations covering his door. Virgil knocked twice, but when met with no answer, he came inside anyway.

The first thing Virgil noticed was the lights. The windows and blinds were shut tight so no sunlight could get through while Roman’s fairy lights around his room were turned on. The soft twinkling gave the room a feeling of calmness, but the sight on the bed was more concerning than tranquil. Princess was sat down on top of the bed comforter with two arms wrapped around her, Roman blending in with the sheets he was under as he shoved his face in his dog’s fur. At least she didn’t seem to mind.

Roman looked up at the sound of the door opening. Virgil felt his heart sink when he saw the tear streaks down his face and his messed up hair, but Roman tried his best to respond to Virgil anyway. “Hey…”

Virgil took off his shoes and threw his backpack onto the floor next to the door. “Hey, dude. You look like shit.”

Roman made a strange huff sound, probably meant to be a laugh. “Thanks.”

He buried his face back into Princess’ fur, and Virgil felt that pang of worry grow stronger. He moved to the other side of the bed, sitting alongside Roman and his pile of blankets and pillows. “You okay?”

Roman shrugged. “I’m doing better.”

“What happened?”

“Panic attack.”

Virgil sucked the air through his teeth as a way to say yikes. “Seems like it was a pretty bad one.”

Princess rolled over onto Roman’s chest, and Roman cuddled even closer than what Virgil thought was possible. He looked so small when he did that. “Worse than usual.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“No. Sometimes it just happens.” Roman kissed the top of Princess’ head. “Anxiety just...does that.”

“Yeah, I get it. Trust me, out of everyone you know, I’d probably be the one to understand it the most.”

“...Yeah.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of them. Virgil didn’t actually know what to do when Roman was like this. He’s stopped him from having panic attacks in the past, but he’d never seen him look this bad. Roman was curled in on himself under the covers, gripping onto Princess for dear life in an attempt to soothe himself. His pile of stuffed animals usually spread around the bed were now in a giant pile around his body, and his weighted blanket poked out from under the comforter too. It looked like he was trying his hardest to get comfortable, and Virgil didn’t know what else he could do. A distraction? A nap?

Well, only one way to find out.

Virgil took a deep breath in. “...Is there any way I can help?”

Roman shrugged again. “Not that I know.”

“Did you take a nap? That usually helps me the most.”

“I just woke up. My meds knocked me out.”

“Your meds?”

Roman took a pill bottle from his nightstand and showed it to Virgil. He read the confusing label that all medicine bottles have, but the name of the pills was long and unfamiliar in Virgil’s mind. Roman placed them back once Virgil got a good look and curled in on himself more. “Panic attack meds. They help you calm down really quick when you’re having an attack. They always put me to sleep after. Remus likes to call them my tranquilizer dart.”

Virgil snorted. “I mean...accurate name. I’ve just never seen you with those before.”

“I only take them on bad days. My therapist warned me about how I shouldn’t take them after every panic attack, because then I’ll never learn how to deal with them on my own, and I might get addicted. Which I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, I know about the addiction thing. I used to be on anti-anxiety until last year.”

Roman tilted his head up to look at Virgil for the first time. “Really?”

“Yup. I got eased off them after a while, though. Now I just take an antidepressant, which honestly isn’t much. I think everyone in our friend group is on some kind of meds.”

“...Patton?” Roman asked.

“Patton’s one depressed mother fucker. I say that out of love, but yes, he’s also on antidepressants.”

“And Logan?”

“...Dude. Epilepsy.”

Roman let out a silent oh. “...I forgot you take meds for that.”

“Our brains are fucked up and we accept this.”

Roman flashed a small smile but didn’t respond. After that, the two had fell silent as Virgil awkwardly patted a beat on his leg to put his nervous fidgeting to use.

What do you do for someone getting out of a panic attack? It was obvious Roman wasn’t in a talking mood, but it was killing him inside to just...sit there while he looked so helpless. But he’d never had to deal with this with a friend before. The worst he’d dealt with were Patton’s bad depression days, and those had nothing on how horrible Roman looked right now. And if he already took a nap...what else were you supposed to do after a panic attack?

Virgil thought back to his own experiences. Of course, Virgil’s anxiety was nothing compared to Roman’s, but it was better than nothing. And comfort worked no matter how bad you felt, even if it was only a little.

He thought back to his own parents. How his mom would hold him and let him cry into his shoulder if he needed to, but that was too awkward for him to do with Roman. His dad would let him curl up and watch him play games on the console, which could maybe work…

...Then Virgil remembered another thing his mom did once after one of his worst panic attacks. It might be a bit embarrassing because of intimacy, but it would help Roman feel better. And that’s all that matters.

“I’m gonna go get some stuff, okay?” Virgil said, “You stay right here.”

Roman hummed. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but okay.”

With that, Virgil hopped out of Roman’s bed and left the bedroom.

First, he needed a water bottle. Roman probably had some water when he took his meds, but it likely wasn’t enough to stop a headache after all the crying. Virgil went downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. While he was there, he looked through the rest of the fridge and noticed that there was no container of chili dip in there anymore. Gross.

Expired chili dip aside, he would need a face rag as well. Virgil went through a hallway on the first floor to the older bathroom downstairs, looking through the drawers for a decent cloth. A small one was hidden in the back of the drawer with some bottles of face wash and lotion, so Virgil grabbed that and took a mental note to put it back later. He stood in front of the faucet and stared at it for a while.

Was cold or hot water better for getting tears off someone’s face? Warm water seemed like it’d be more comfortable, but cold water could also be more refreshing. He thought about the possibilities for a while and settled on warm based on his own preferences, turning the hot and cold handles to where the water was only slightly warm, wetting a side of the cloth then turning the faucet off.

Before he left the bathroom, Virgil grabbed a couple squares of toilet paper and then headed out the door. He was back in Roman’s room not even five minutes later, setting his stuff on the nightstand for a second as he grabbed his DS from his bag and turned it on. Roman glanced up from the bed with a confused look, but didn’t say anything. Virgil came back next to the bed and motioned for Roman to move to the middle. Reluctantly, and with some shifting of Princess still at his side, Roman did so.

Virgil sat in Roman’s old spot and grabbed the wad of toilet paper. “Here, sit up and blow your nose. The last thing you need right now is more breathing problems.”

Roman grunted as she shimmied out from under his weighted blanket to sit up against the headboard of his bed. He took the toilet paper from Virgil and blew. “...Thanks.”

“No problem. Now just stick with me for this next part, because I’m not good with touchy-touchy shit, so this’ll be a little awkward.”

Roman gave Virgil a confused look, but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed the damp cloth and silently tilted Roman’s head to face him. Virgil tentatively lifted the cloth to his face and wiped the tears from under his eyes, the gesture mixed with the warm water making Roman hum in content. Virgil didn’t acknowledge what was happening, he just wiped off his friend’s face, flipping to the dry part of the cloth to dry him off after.

“There. That should help you feel less gross, anyway.”

“Thanks...it helped.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Virgil set the cloth to the side and handed Roman the water bottle. “And drink this, it’ll help with that nasty headache you probably have.”

Roman twisted the cap open and chugged the bottle, finishing half of it in record speed before putting it down again. Virgil could tell by how fast he chugged it that his head was probably throbbing.

“Feeling a little better now?” Roman nodded. “Wanna watch me play Harvest Moon until you probably pass out again?”

He nodded again, Virgil scooting closer to him so Roman could place his head on his shoulder as he watched. His hand combed through Princess’ fur as Princess trapped the other under her paw to lick. Most people would think it was gross, but considering licking was one of her grounding techniques, he was desensitized to it by now. “Which one do you have?”

“A New Beginning. I’ll show you all my cows because they’re bomb as fuck. My first cow is named Oven and I have a baby one named Chaos.”

Roman laughed as Virgil started up the game. “Awesome. You play it often?”

“Eh, sometimes. It’s not my favorite game, but I carry it with me because it’s good for calming anxiety down. All I gotta do is feed my animals and mine and shit. Nothing else matters, you know?”

Roman nodded as best he could from Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil loaded up his save file and started to show Roman around his farm, mostly skipping the crops and going straight to the pets and farm animals with the most ridiculous names Virgil could get away with using only six letters. Virgil chatted away about his game and read all the speech bubbles out loud, showing off his wife who he swears he married platonically since his character was obviously gay and talking about his rivalry with the hair stylist. Roman wasn’t responding much, just a few hums and little laughs here and there, but Virgil didn’t mind. So long as his friend was feeling better, that was all that mattered.

A while later, Virgil was baking desserts for a contest being held in town when he spoke up again. “I’m shit at cooking good stuff in this game, but I can make some neat pancakes, apparently. I’m gonna make this contest my bitch.”

There was no response. That wasn’t very strange in itself, but usually when Virgil sweared, Roman at least made a small huff of a laugh from his shoulder. But this time, he was completely quiet. Virgil looked over at his shoulder when he almost awwww’ed out loud.

Roman had fallen back asleep, his mouth open slightly with his arms cuddling Princess extra close as she seemed to relax alongside him. He was adorable, and in a moment of softness that Virgil would deny to the end of his days, he helped Roman to lay back in bed and brushed the hair out of his face. Roman still clung slightly to him even as he slept, so Virgil accepted his fate and moved to curl up alongside him, continuing his game with a smile on his face.

“Your sleep schedule is gonna be absolutely fucked, dude.” Virgil said. There was no response, obviously, and Virgil didn’t talk to his sleeping friend after that. He just took a mental note to tell his parents he was staying the night before it got too late and kept caring for his farm.

Maybe later he’d wake Roman up and get him some dinner, letting him recharge and take a shower before they actually had to go to bed. He’d be too awake to actually sleep at first, but the company of his friend and the comfort of his dog would keep him calm through that, even when Roman hated being awake past eleven. Patton may even find out and tease Virgil about having a heart after all, which Virgil would deny until the end of his days. But his edgy reputation wasn’t what mattered right now.

Instead, Virgil smiled and cuddled closer as Roman slept peacefully.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #service dog au #ts roman #ts virgil #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety #food mention #panic attack mention #ts remus #remus sanders #medication mention

[reddieorrnot]

Eddie tries Richie’s clothes on as a joke but Richie loves it

aww this ones cute, thanks anon :) hope you enjoy!

“The ‘rents said you could sleep over”

Eddie smiled into the telephone, feeling a little stupid realizing no one could see him. Then again, it was better than Richie actually seeing the plastered grin on Eddie’s face. Eddie had had a stressful week at school, studying for hard tests and track meets nearly every day at school, it was a Friday afternoon and he needed to spend his night in an enjoyable way. For most teenagers, that would have meant a party or sneaking into a bar with a fake ID, not for Eddie. His idea of relaxing and having fun at the same time simply consisted of hanging out at the Tozier household. There, he knew he would find comfort in Mr. Tozier’s jokes and Mrs. Tozier’s unmatchable affection. Lastly, he knew he would also spend time with Richie Tozier, his favorite person. He’d never admit that last part out loud though. There were a lot of things involving Richie in Eddie’s mind that he wouldn't say out loud. Things that had been boiling up for a while now. 

“Oh cool, I’ll get packing then.” Eddie replied looking around his room, already mentally picturing what to wear and bring. 

“While you’re lying to your mother’s beautiful face about how you’ll be at Billy boy’s house instead of mine, give her a big fat kiss for me,” a light laugh came from Richie's side of the call. Unfortunately, all that got out of Eddie was an eye roll. 

“I think I speak for all women when I say she’d decline the kiss. Anyways, I’ll be over in like an hour.”

“All women huh? You saying I could still get a nice o’ smacking on the lips from you, cutie?” 

“That’s my cue to hang up.”

“Wait-”

Eddie put the phone down, ending the call and letting out a small chuckle. He knew Richie’s comments were just for fun and jokes, but sometimes Eddie couldn’t help but picture the things he said. 

What if he could kiss Richie what if Richie wanted that too? Pushing those thoughts aside, Eddie turned his back on the phone and looked around his room, trying to decide what to change into, as he had been lounging in the same clothes he had worn to school that day. Walking over to his closet, he picked out something simple enough to look decent around Richie’s family. No effort was rude, always. Picking up a white t-shirt and some light jeans, he made his way over to the bathroom, grabbing his towel additionally on the way out. Even if Eddie had done an hour of track after school today, he would have still needed to wash up before heading out to Richie’s. Sure, he could shower at the Tozier’s, but there’s something about using one’s own bathroom that doesn’t match any others. Eddie found it funny that here he was, looking at himself in his bathroom mirror before hopping in the shower, and Richie was probably just getting high at this exact moment to some loud band. 

After a quick wash, the curly headed boy decided to remain as just that. Instead of blowing drying his hair, he would just let it air dry, meaning his curls would be wild and free for the night. His mother hated when he didn’t keep his hair straight and neat, but she wasn’t going to home until far later than when Eddie would leave. She had loosened up over the years. But it wasn’t a type of loosened up where she understood that Eddie was growing and deserved some more freedom. It was the type that indicated she had just stopped caring. She spoke to herself a lot, mostly only acknowledged Eddie to yell at him about chores in the house and getting his meds. To be honest, Eddie believed that his mother's head had become so clouded by all the food she ate and how much television she watched every day, that there wasn’t much space to comprehend anything else. 

He grabbed a duffel bag and first stuffed it with some things from his bathroom. Those things including his toothbrush, his mouthwash, and basically just a sweep of his hand pushing all the medication in his cabinet into the bag. Deep down, he knew all the pills his mother had given him growing up didn’t actually do anything. But for some reason, he felt weird without taking the placebos. Mike once told him that it could be linked to anxiety, and just feeling more normal when Eddie did something he grew up used to doing. Eddie just accepted it though, not trying to fight the urge to bring his inhaler everywhere or these pills when he spent the night somewhere. Most of his friends understood where he was coming from. Richie though, always rolled his eyes when Eddie brought his bag full of meds. 

Eddie kind of liked that though, he enjoyed it when Richie would say, “You don’t need that bullshit.”

It made Eddie feel strong. 

Suddenly there was a knock downstairs at the front door, catching Eddie off guard. He clutched his duffel bag’s strap in confusion, keeping it on his shoulder. Eddie walked down the stairs wondering if it could be his mother, but that didn’t make any sense. Why would she knock? She had also told him multiple times she’d be out late. Peeking through the peephole, Eddie let out a relief sigh, but then was filled with confusion once more. He opened the door with scrunched eyebrows. 

“Why?”

Richie stood in front of him with a smile from ear to ear, “I came to pick you up! Couldn’t wait a whole hour to see you, my Eds.”

“Don’t call me-” Eddie was interrupted as Richie took the duffel bag from his grasp.

“Come on, let’s just go! Maggie was making some food when I left, and it smelled good.”

Eddie shrugged, “Alright, let me just leave my mom a note. How’d you know she wasn’t here, anyways? Could’ve risked her seeing you.”

Eddie spun on his heel and retracted to the kitchen to grab a pen and paper. Writing his mother a short note that he had a project to do with Bill and would just be spending the night there. There was little chance she would actually even read the note, but there was also a little chance she would even notice Eddie was gone. 

“I lied, I came FOR your mom, like I do every night, and wanted to show you that she’d never deny a kiss from this hunk,” Richie expressed as he flexed his bicep, or as much of a bicep he had, “Was quite a disappointment when I noticed her car wasn’t outside, but then I realized I could always just take you home tonight instead.” 

Now that it was something said in person, Eddie couldn’t hide his pink cheeks behind a telephone. He always got a bit red when Richie made jokes about his best friend, if Richie noticed, he never said anything. 

“Shut it, fucker. I’m hungry and want your mom’s food.”

Letting out a loud laugh, the taller boy draped his arm around Eddie. Fortunately, Eddie didn’t move away, he let the arm engulf him and grabbed the spare house key to lock the door behind him as they walked out. Richie rambled about his day,, talking of his horrible math teacher and the way today’s cafeteria lunch sucked horribly. 

As they got into Richie’s car, Eddie let out a soft laugh. “You wouldn’t have to eat the cafeteria food if you actually remember to pack a lunch sometimes.”

Starting the car, Richie slightly nodded, “I guess, but for some reason I feel like eating that trash-” 

“You are what you eat!”

“Sure, funny, now shut up,” Richie continued through Eddie’s fit of giggles, “I feel like eating that junk builds character in a way. Like how trauma makes people funny, that’’s why our friend group is so fucking funny.”

Eddie just looked out the window, watching the houses pass, “I guess so, you still could just bring lunch from home.”

Richie didn’t say anything to that, and instead turned on the radio and just drove. Eddie liked driving with Richie, it made him feel calm. Doing anything with Richie made Eddie feel some sort of underlying emotions of calmness. Even if Richie was batshit crazy sometimes, and liked to smoke cigarettes on top of buildings after midnight. Even when Eddie followed him and scraped his knee climbing the ladder to the roof of a store, he felt calm. Maybe not as calm as he did right now, but in his heart he felt calm. Richie just sort of felt like home. 

They were both silent until Richie’s house, but it was nice. 

“We have arrived at your castle, my majesty.” Richie broke the silence as they pulled into his driveway. 

“Majesty? Finally decided to show me the credit I deserve, I see.” Eddie told him as he opened his car door and got out. Instinctively reaching for his bag, he realized Richie had already grabbed it from the back. Feeling thankful for the action, he just gave the dork a smile when Richie walked around the car to face Eddie, duffel bag in hand. As they walked up to the front door, Richie just pushed it open without having to unlock it.

Not everyone thinks the door constantly needs to be locked no matter what, Eddie thought to himself. 

“Eddie! Is that you?” A sweet woman's voice rang through the house.

“Thanks mom! Glad to see you too!” Richie replied first, obviously joking but making sure to chime in annoyance in his tone. 

Maggie appeared in the living room from the kitchen, looking as beautiful as she always did. Richie’s genes didn’t just come from his father. Maggie looked 10 years younger than her age, bright eyes and perfect smile catching anyone's attention. She was tall and lean, yet still had a warm feeling to her aura no matter who she spoke to. The jet black hair that usually cascaded down her back was in a bun, seemingly to be out of the way as she cooked. 

“Oh Richard, you know I love you. My favorite friend of yours is here though, let me give him some attention.” Eddie felt bashful as he was pulled into a hug by the women who had always treated him more like a son then the one he came home to every day. Her hugs were like heaven. 

“I’m gonna take your bag upstairs, Eds.”

Eddie didn’t have the energy to correct Richie, who was already going up the stairs to his room. Instead, he followed Maggie into the kitchen as she asked about his day and he did the same. Turns out, she had been making cherry pie. The smell made Eddie’s stomach ache as he remembered he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch at school. Maggie must have heard his stomach’s growl since she chuckled and started taking out two plates. 

“Oh gee mom, so when Eddie isn’t here yet I can’t have a slice but when he arrives we can feast? Seems a bit unfair to me.” Richie’s presence was made known as he stepped into the kitchen, eyes locked on the pie. 

“Pie is always better when you enjoy it with those you love!” Maggie claimed as she turned to cut two pieces for the boys. Neither of them noticed how their eyes widened in the exact same ways. “Here you two are, have them at the table and be careful, cherry stains.”

Richie and Eddie both nodded and moved to the dining table. Taking their seats, Eddie marveled at Maggie’s baking. While he did that, Richie wasted no time taking the first bite. 

“Mom!’ Richie said with a full mouth, “My taste buds thank you!”

The visible food in Richie’s mouth and the loud smacking of his chews made the other boy cringe as he took a fork of the pie. Maggie laughed in reply and her footsteps up the stairs were identifiable, along with the shutting of her room door. It tasted better than any desert Eddie had ever tried before. Not that his mom let him eat many sugary things, so basically it was the best desert Maggie had ever fed him. Overwhelmed with excitement to grab another bite, Eddie didn’t pay enough attention to how much of a hold his fork had actually gotten on the next piece. As said fork was brought to Eddie’s mouth, the piece of pie fell off, trailing down Eddie’s white shirt. 

“Fuck,” Eddie let out, remembering the cherries did, in fact, leave stains. 

“Uh oh, is it your chest’s time of month?” 

“Real funny, dumbass. I gotta change out of this and see if running it under water helps at all.”

Getting up, Eddie quickly left the dining table, quick enough to miss Richie sighing and kissing a piece of pie on his fork. “I’ll be back soon, my love, must go help my other love with a crisis.”

They made their way up the stairs and Eddie headed to Richie’s room, knowing he had an attached bathroom there. Eddie wasn’t really thinking of anything besides cleaning his shirt, so the second Richie passed him when entering the room, Eddie closed the door behind him and went to take his shirt off. 

“Alright, so you can just lean and put that bad boy under the sink and-” Richie stopped in his tracks when he faced Eddie, who was now shirtless with the stained garment in his hands. 

“What?” Eddie’s face flushed in embarrassment, realizing he was now essentially half naked in front of a guy he’d liked for years. Of course, this wasn’t unusual, but the timing felt weird. They weren’t swimming or just relaxing on a hot day. Eddie was just shirtless in Richie’s room, not to mention without warning after shutting Richie’s door. Still, Eddie’s first thought was to defend himself. “You got some joke to make?” He angrily said. 

Richie just stood there for a second, staring. Finally he choked out, “No! No… You uh, you looked toned. Very nice. I mean you look very nice.” 

Raising an eyebrow and putting a hand on his hip, Eddie questioned, “No joke?” 

“No joke.”

“Oh, well… Thank you. Guess I’ve been losing weight from track and then building muscle.” Eddie noticed Richie’s unbreakable stare, wondering if this is what always happened when Eddie was shirtless. Had he just never noticed? What else didn’t he notice? Without saying anything, Eddie proceeded to the bathroom, leaving Richie stuck in his trance. He turned the water on, not sure whether to make it cold or hot, but he wasn’t even sure if this would help anything. He tried rubbing the fabric together, just letting it soak, and even applying some hand wash. But nothing helped. Accepting defeat, Eddie turned off the water and walked back into Richie’s room.

“Where’s my bag? Can you toss me a shirt I packed?”

Richie nodded and walked to his closet, pulling out Eddie’s duffel bag and searching through it. “Hey… Eds? Only your meds are in here.”

Rubbing his hand over his eyes n frustration, Eddie wanted to call Richie stupid for a second, wondering how that was possible. But quickly he remembered how he never did grab any clothes, and had just opened the door for Richie after stocking his bag with pills and left. Richie looked at Eddie, waiting for a response. At first, Eddie could just sigh. It wasn’t that big of a deal ,but he had a bad week, this was supposed to be relaxing.

“I never grabbed any clothes. You knocked at the door while I was grabbing the pills and my inhaler and took my bag. I didn’t realize that was all i had, should’ve noticed at some point the weight was unreasonable.”

“Is it my fault?” Richie pouted, genuinely apologetic.

Tilting his head to the side, Eddie felt bad. “No ‘Chee, it isn’t your fault. Just a dumb mistake on my part, I can just borrow some clothes from you, right?” Eddie joked with a laugh to lighten the mood. Without needing an answer, Eddie kept the joke going by walking to Richie’s closet. He knew this was bound to make the taller boy smile, something that would also make Eddie happy. Eddie looked for a second, then grabbed some band t-shirt he didn’t know of. The shirt was black and brown, with the band’s name written across. It must have been new, because Eddie hadn’t seen this shirt worn a lot. He knew Richie wouldn’t mind though, and as Eddie slipped it on, he took note of how soft the fabric was. It was also very over sized, seen as Richie was a tall guy. 

Eddie smiled as he walked out of the closet (and made a mental joke to himself) to look at Richie. Expecting a grin or some sort of joke about Eddie being so tiny, instead he was once more greeted by Richie’s staring.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, concerned at the amount of attention he was getting, short on or off.

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Now it was Eddie’s turn to be speechless. He was taken aback and didn’t know what to say. What his brain wanted to say, was that Richie had it all wrong. That Richie was the gorgeous one. Richie and his black hair that just was perfectly messy, his smile that could melt anyone's heart, his sharp jawline, the way he spoke with his hands. Especially his laugh, it was like someone playing a harp to Eddie’s ears. That’s what Eddie wanted to say. Sadly, he didn’t have the courage to.

“Not really.” 

“Shut up.” 

 Instead, Eddie mustered up all the courage he did have, and walked to Richie, wrapping him in an embrace. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled into Richie’s chest. 

Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie, letting out a breath. They stood like that for a while before Eddie finally pulled away.

“You have the right to wear any of my clothes, literally. Take it all. Leaving me butt naked is worth seeing you wear my shit. It’s like sexy in a domestic kinda way.” Richie said scratching his chin in thought. 

“You’re too much Tozier, get your head out of your ass,” Eddie laughed out loudly, secretly wishing he could tell if Richie was serious or not.

Guess he’d find out at some point.

#reddie #richie tozier #it #eddie kaspbrak #richie x eddie #eddie x richie #maggie tozier #reddie fic

[eyeless-cunt]

I was planning on posting the most recent chapter earlier but I forgot and to make up for it here is chapter 4 👊😔

(submission) aka i didn’t write this it was submitted to me uwu 🌸

Witness Protection

You know the drill

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"So why do you look so uncomfortable?" You tilt your head. He remained silent. "Hey, come on, after what just happened I deserve to know something about you,"

"What just happened doesn't matter," He stated, back to using that monotone voice. You huff.

"We kissed!"

"You and I both know it meant nothing,"

"But still-!"

"Dropping the subject now," he shut up. You groan and smack your head against the window. You mutter an ow, sitting up properly.

"Does the radio work?" He shrugged. You reach over and try to turn it on, only met by static on all of the channels before it shut itself off. "Great," you grumble quietly to yourself. You pat a small beat on your lap, the silence driving you mad.

"Stop that," your head rolls back against the headrest on the seat, rolling your eyes and glaring at him.

"Well then do you have any idea what I could do to entertain myself? Don't get me wrong I'm really enjoying these 'chats' of ours where I try to strike up a conversation and you completely ignore me, but I'm kind of going insane," you groan loudly. "There's like nothing for me to dooo,"

"Play a road trip game or something,"

"You need two or more people for those, and you're highkey too boring for them,"

"I'm going to pretend I know what highkey is and tell you to figure out how to do it yourself," You groan again, leaning forward to smack your head on the dashboard space right above the glove box.

"I spy with my little eye, an annoying bitch," you huff, crossing your arms.

"You?" Your eye twitches. "No? Damn. Ok, my turn, I spy with my little eye an annoying little cunt that is going to be gutted and left to bleed out in a river if she doesn't shut her fucking mouth,"

"Lemme guess. You?" He made a 'wrong' buzzer sound.

"Wrong, try again,"

"Me?" you sigh.

"Bingo, now shut up," You grumble some unheard curses and lean your elbow on the weird arm rest thing on the side of the door, resting your head in your open palm. There was a long silence. It felt like it must've been half an hour, at least.

"I'm still bored,"

"It's only been 10 minutes since you told me that," he stated.

"Feels like longer, now entertain me,"

"In case you don't remember, I kidnapped you and am in no way obligated to entertain you,"

"Can't I like, borrow your phone or something?"

"I would be an idiot to let a hostage use my phone," It's becoming painfully clear that he is not going to cave anytime soon. You sigh and stare out the window, watching other cars pass by with a half lidded expression. "Eat or something,"

"Bored eating is how I get fat,"

"Then suffer in silence," Another silence washed over you, the uncomfortable humming of the vehicle becoming the only thing you could use from drifting off into insanity. The car stopped after a long while, and he climbed out.

"Where are you going?"

"To eat," You raise a brow.

"Why would you need to get out to eat?" He smiled at you, condescendingly. The effect of the meds had worn off by this point, revealing sharpened teeth. You gag, remembering what he had eaten back at the hotel. "Yeah, please do that far away from me,"

"Planning on it, I don't need puke in my truck," He slammed his door shut. It is only five minutes after he's left the truck that you are even more bored than before. Yet another heavy groan leaves you. Patting a small beat on your legs seemed to help, but only barely. You glance behind you, seeing him in the back of the truck. Well, you could only see his back, as he had it facing the cab section of the truck. Should you go out and bother him? One on hand, there was a strong possibility of you vomiting up your lunch from earlier. But on the other hand, he was your only source of entertainment. Your boredom won over your common sense and you unbuckle, trying your door. Child locked, of course. Your gaze flicked to his door. Glancing back out the back window, you sneakily climb onto the drivers side seat, trying the door handle. The door popped open and you felt like cheering. You wouldn't though. If he was gonna be mad about you sneaking out of the car you might as well spook him too by surprising him.

A small tune hits your ears as you step out of the truck, closing the door quietly. Your footsteps fell silently on the dirt as you approached. Granted, the heels made walking uncomfortable, but you'd rather suffer through the curse that is your work shoes than walk around barefoot. Random thought aside, the tune sounded like quiet singing. It was barely audible, barely above a whisper, but pleasant sounding. Your brain caught up with your ears and eyes and quickly came to the conclusion that Jack was singing, very softly. The song was unfamiliar to you, but his voice did sound nice, so you quietly hop onto the bed of the truck, next to him, all while ignoring the empty freezer bags that used to hold what you knew to be some poor man's insides. He paused for what seemed to be an instrumental break, as he nodded his head a little to the rhythm in his head.

"For a murderer, you're pretty good at singing," you comment, breaking the silence. Nothing will ever compare to the joy you felt as Jack's eye sockets shot open, and he squeaked loudly, standing in an apparent flight reflex before almost tripping over the rim of the bed in his shock. However, you did not laugh, for you were no fool. Although it was increasingly tempting as his grey face grew to be a bright red, non existent eyes widening in pure shock, terror, or embarrassment.

"How much," he muttered, blinking with a gulp.

"What?"

"How much did you hear," he elaborated.

"Not much, I've only been here for maybe a minute or so,"

"Too much," he took a shaky breath.

"What?" he repeatedly shook his head.

"Too much," he muttered again before muttering something very quietly to himself.

"Truck. Now," he vaulted himself over the edge. You raise a brow and climb off the bed of the vehicle. He gripped your arm and guided you to your side of the truck, opening the door. "In," You scurry in, clicking the seat belt into place. He seemed… stressed. He climbed in a little bit after, seemingly having cleaned up the remnants of his meal.

"So uh-,"

"Don't- don't talk,"

"But-,"

"Shhhh," he whispered, holding a shaky index finger to his lips to signify silence. With a deep breath, he strapped in and turned the car on, getting back on the road. Despite the radio not working, the clock did, and you stared at it. For an hour. You knew because you had watched an hour pass on the old digital display. Finally, he sighed.

"You can talk now, I guess,"

"What the hell was that?"

"Probably a nice mix of anxiety and embarrassment smooshed together to create a hellish combination of wanting to die,"

"You have anxiety?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you nod slowly.

"You're singing was nice," you murmur.

"Uh, thanks," he muttered. "I don't uh- I don't typically like people listening-,"

"That would be totally understandable if you weren't that good at it,"

"If you think complimenting me will make me let you go, you're wrong," he visibly tightened his grip on the steering wheel, the black fabric of his gloves pulling taut.

"Wasn't what I was going for, but ok,"

"Then what were you going for," he sighed heavily.

"Could you sing something? Like, louder than a whisper?"

"No," his response was immediate. "Absolutely not,"

"What? It's not like I'll be able to tell anyone," he did a small leg bounce.

"Will you shut up about being bored if I sing one song?" A hum and a nod from you give him his confirmation. "Shit…," he sighed under his breath. "Did you have a song in mind?"

"No," he groans quietly.

"Not a single one?"

"No," you shake your head. "Hadn't planned on you saying yes, so just pick one you like," He threw his hand up in what could only be exasperation.

"Fine, fine," he took a deep breath, looking about ready to start. "Do I have to do this?"

"If you want me to shut up," He whined under his breath.

"But-,"

"Stop stalling and you can get it over with," You lean forward to see his face, which is still beet red with embarrassment, but this time with pursed lips.

"Gah, fine," he huffed, defeated. With another deep breath, he began. "I can't get a hold, hold on myself, tossin' and turnin' and screaming' for help. So much to say, so many words, but sometimes, you're lookin' so good that it hurts,'' You blinked slowly, eyes slowly widening. He'd probably stop if you said anything, so you remain quiet and avert your eyes from his head, leaning your head in your open palm again as you listened to the song. It wasn't a very fast paced or high energy song, making it sort of soothing to listen to. Mixed with his strangely superb singing voice, it melded together into a calming melody that was slowly making you relax and be ready for a nap.

"I know I'm not right, I'm messed in the head, so hurt me, desert me, just leave me for dead. I'm thinkin' 'bout thinkin', now my sun is shrinking'. I know I can float, but I'm sinking' instead. I don't wanna lose you, glad that I knew you, don't wanna be in my own head," he seemed to be enjoying himself as much as you were, except he wasn't dozing off like you. As he neared the last few sound effect things that were in the song, you had closed your eyes, breathing slower. In your half asleep state, your brain registered that he had finished singing, but it didn't matter to you as you slipped into unconsciousness, willingly this time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was out cold and he sighed in relief, leaning his head against the back of the seat. Never again. Never again will he sing like that for someone else. Too much pressure on him to make it sound good, even if he didn't give a flying fuck about her opinion of him. Her sleeping form made him realize just how tired he was and he yawned. He'd gotten a max of two hours the night before, and even then they were the suckiest two hours of his life. This just meant he needed to get to his next hotel set up. He pulled the car over again and pulled out his phone, scrolling through nearby hotels. The closest was two hours away. He groaned silently and checked the bookings for it anyway. There were also no double beds. Peachy. Just peachy. His bottom lid twitched before he smacked his forehead on the broken horn again, sighing heavily in exasperation. No doubt she was going to bitch, but he really didn't have a choice. He needed proper sleep and she'd have to deal. He booked one of the rooms and took a breath to recollect himself before shutting his phone off and stuffing it back in his pocket. If he was lucky this place would have booze or something, it would be great to have a nice bottle of whiskey or something when dealing with this woman. The drive was obviously quiet, her soft snores the only noise to drown out the sound of everything wrong with his truck. In the silence, his mind wandered, as it usually did, which led him to the question of what the hell was this woman's name. It had been on her name tag, probably, but that had been stained with blood and removed earlier that day. Damn, he didn't even know what it began with.

Regardless, he drove in complete silence. Fastest two hours of his life, if he was being honest. With how tired he was, the promise of a nice bed and possibly alcohol made him a little giddy. The parking lot of the hotel came into view and he cheered quietly.

"Yes!" he sighed in slight celebration, pulling into the lot and quickly finding a place to park. He shut the car off and got his pills and took two. He liked to call them 'normal pills' because they made him look, well, normal. Anyway, he climbed out of the car and walked to her side, opening the door and climbing up on the step. The button clicked once he pushed it, and the seatbelt came up to go back to it's weird resting position against the side of the cab. He scooped her up bridal style. He was going to have to sell the dating thing again, not wanting to risk the weird look his mind guaranteed would be sent his way. He shook his head, removing the thought from his mind and hopping off the step, using his shoulder to push the door closed. With a quick grip adjustment, he headed for the door, barely making it through the sliding doors, as he was too impatient to wait for them to open fully. He did the usual checking in process, the person at the front desk only glancing at the sleeping woman in his arms.

"Girlfriend?" They hum. He nodded. "Keep any noise you make tonight to yourselves,"

"What?"

"Be quiet," They clarified. He flushed up at what they had implied, and began to stammer over some of his words. They snort. "Calm yourself down boy," He swallowed.

"S-Sorry," They shake their head.

"Anyway, the pool is that way, the exercise room is right next to it, there's a bar over by the breakfast area. Pool hours are 9 AM - 11 PM, same with the exercise room. Bar is open from 7 PM - 6 AM," They hand him his key card. He nods a thank you and hurries to the stairs. It's more than a few floors up, but he didn't feel like going to find the elevator just yet. The woman stirred in her sleep, but he was too absorbed by his thoughts to notice.

"Jack?" He almost dropped her down the stairs in fright.

"Yeah?" he shook his head, resuming his climb.

"Where are we?"

"The next hotel,"

"Oh… what city are we in?"

"Only a fool would tell his hostage what city he's moved her to," he huffed. "And I am no fool," She grumbled.

"Dammit,"

"Don't pout about that, I've been fairly decent to you so far," She glanced up at him, brows furrowed.

"Yeah, but why?"

"You're more obedient when you're well taken care of,"

"Oh really? And what proof do you have for that?"

"You didn't tell that woman I had kidnapped you," he hummed.

"Because you were right next to me,"

"You've listened to my orders, more so when I'm not being violent,"

"I-,"

"You aren't resisting now, either, especially since you have the chance," That one was a test. He just told her she had a chance to escape. She remained still, cradled in his arms. "You aren't going to even try?"

"The stairs are really steep, I don't wanna risk falling," He nodded.

"Fair," He glanced down. "But I would fall too, wouldn't I?" More testing. He had to be sure she wouldnt run off on him if he had to leave her alone in the room for something.

"Just because you kidnapped me doesn't mean I want you to fall to your doom on a hotel staircase," she crossed her arms, huffing.

"Ok, Ok," he stopped talking. She continued to pout while he made his way up the rest of the stairs, onto their floor. Their room was at the end of the hall. He grunted as he shifted her onto one arm. She grew a bit flustered, probably because she was being held on one arm and that was kind of weird. He pulled the key card out of his pocket.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ok ok ok, yeah, he's pretty cute when he's 'normal' looking. But now he's holding you on one arm. He's fucking strong. Like, really strong. 'Lord give me strength,' You think to yourself. He slides the card into the slot and opens the door, shifting you back so he was using both arms to hold you. He walked in and threw you on the bed.

"Why- why is there only one bed?" you tilt your head.

"There weren't any double bed rooms available when I booked it,"

"So we'll be sleeping on the same bed?"

"I don't care if you sleep on the floor, or the bed, or even the bathtub," he shrugged.

"Bed sounds comfy,"

"Then sleep on the bed, I'm too tired to care," he flopped back first onto the bed, sighing in relief.

"What if we accidentally spoon though?"

"Oh nooo, physical contact, what ever will we dooo??" Sarcasm was evident.

"You know for a guy who panicked when I saw him singing you're awfully chill about straight up cuddling me," He shrugged.

"I'm tired, and tired me just does not give a shit," he rubbed his eyes. "Besides, human bodies are cooler than demon ones, you'd be like the cold side of a pillow,"

"What the fuck," He let out a strained laugh.

"Sorry," he sat up, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm gonna go get my stuff, you gotta promise to stay here,"

"I make no promises," you cross your arms.

"I could always lock you in the bathroom with no means of entertainment, or you can stay out here, in a decent, air conditioned room, with a tv. Your choice," You sigh.

"Fine," a quiet grumble leaves you.

"I'll bring the clothes and toiletries up first, so you can take a shower,"

"Are you saying I need one?"

"We both need one, I'm just saying yours will probably take longer," You mull it over.

"Fine," He gave a thumbs up and stood.

"I'll be back," He left the room. You sigh and crawl onto the bed fully, closing your eyes.

#I MISSED THESE SO MUCH #THEYRE SO GOOD #SOSOSO GOOD #creepypasta #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta x reader #witness protection #submisson #submission

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Lunacy Fringe (Chapter 15)

Sorry updates have been slow. I have fibromyalgia and I’m having a really bad flare-up. I’m having to take more of my pain meds which are super strong so they’re knocking me on my ass and I’m struggling to just function as a human right now loool

--------------------

When they got inside the gates Daryl felt the relief flood his body. The first pharmacy had been a bust, they had managed to get in but there was nothing left. The second one was a gold mine though but it hadn't been easy. He was thankful Aaron was with him and the three others were competent enough to help. If he had been stuck with assholes that hindered him and getting the meds back to his people, he might have just left them behind. The three others had distracted the walkers in the parking lot letting Daryl and Aaron slip in. It was dangerous but it worked. They dispatched the few stragglers and got to work. Daryl had a list of the shit they needed but he grabbed a bunch of other shit too in case they needed it. He had no plans to return here.

He jumped out of the car, a bag slung over each shoulder as he all but ran to the infirmary. Rick was sat on the steps looking forlorn and Daryl's heart sank. Rick frowned when he saw him and stood up, walking over.

“Did you get them?” he asked hopefully, making Daryl nod feeling pleased he had done his job. He handed the bags over to Rick and watched the relief pass over his face. But then it was replaced with worry.

“We need to talk,” Rick said carefully and Daryl stood up taller like he was bracing himself for bad news,

“He dead?” he asked, his voice wavering a little. Rick knew he was referring to Glenn and he shook his head feeling upset and worried about the words about to leave his lips.

“Brother… Zoey’s sick,” he lamented, so much pain behind his haunted eyes as he watched Daryl’s face fall.

The usually stoic man was able to hide his emotions well but right now Rick saw every single one that passed on his face. The main ones being fear and heartbreak.

“I need to see ‘er,” he said firmly, his voice rougher than usual. He went to walk past but Rick sidestepped him, making Daryl growl as he glared at him.

“I can't risk it, Daryl. You know that. She's in safe hands and we have what we need now. She should get better,” Rick said cautiously.

“Should? Man, that ain’t ‘nough for me! Let me see ‘er!” he roared not caring who heard him at this late hour as he went to move passed. Rick blocked him again, his face sterner now. He knew he was hurting and he got it, but he wasn't letting him in.

“I said no! We need you here Daryl. Safe and well. I ain't riskin' you gettin' sick too. I know you’re worried, I get it. But there ain't nothin' else we can do right now but get the medication to her and hope it works,” Rick hated that he couldn't just let him in, but if Daryl got sick and he ended up dead, it would be a huge loss for him and not something he was willing to go through. Maybe he was being selfish but he didn't care. They needed him here.

“I ain’t even say goodbye to her ‘fore I left. I need to see her. Rick… if anythin’ happens to her… I can't…” he shook his head as he lowered it, his lower lip quivering a little at the pain settling deep into his bones. Rick stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, tilting his head as he tried to catch his eyes.

“Look, if she gets worse I’ll let you in to talk to her. But I think she’ll be just fine. Go home and get some rest alright? I’ll be there to keep you updated on any changes,” Rick said, his voice low and soothing. Daryl knew he was using his diplomatic cop voice on him but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was hurting and he couldn't even go to see her. He nodded and trudged off back home. She was sick and the last thing she needed was him causing a huge scene outside just to get in to see her.

He hated that he hadn't said goodbye to her. He knew she would have been worried about him. And then she was sick all on her own without him there to help her. He sat on the couch, head in his hands. He wouldn't be able to sleep, he knew that much. He needed to stay awake in case anything happened. He really hoped they got the meds back in time and that she would be okay. The thought of her getting worse, of having to go in there to say goodbye, it made him feel sick. He couldn't lose someone else. He just couldn't. Each loss was getting harder and harder to cope with now and Zoey meant more to him than anyone else. He hated that he hadn't told her how he really felt about her, unaware he actually had.

Dread settled like a heavy weight in his stomach as the bunny hopped over. He picked it up and set it on his lap as he stroked it. It was her bunny, the one she had saved. She was far too compassionate and caring for this new world even after all she went through but that's why he loved her. He couldn't find a word for how he felt about her, love didn't seem to cut it for him. He never thought he would feel this way about anyone, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And now he was at risk of losing her, losing his lifeline.

Hours passed with him sat here staring into space. No one had come to talk to him but it was relieving. No news was good news. The door suddenly opened and Rick came in and Daryl watched him as the bile rose into his throat.

“She's fine,” Rick said instantly as he shut the door. Knowing Daryl would be expecting the worst. He came over, sitting on the coffee table right in front of Daryl who sagged in the chair. The relief was evident on his face that she was okay.

“We gave them all the meds. Now it's just a waitin' game to see if they work,” Rick said quietly, his face tired and worn. Daryl nodded as he looked down.

“The fuck happened?” he asked wearily.

“I don't know. Me and Maggie were outside the infirmary when she came over. We knew she was sick right away. She looked bad. She was coughing and coughed up some blood. Denise said it could have been from her throat with how hard she was coughin'. Then she passed out,” Rick explained carefully. Each word felt like a knife stabbing Daryl's heart. That he hadn't been there to help her at all.

“She was the last one to get sick. She's got more of a chance than anyone else of pullin' through this if the meds work,” Rick mumbled tiredly. Daryl chewed his thumb just looking down. Rick could see it all over him, that he was expecting the worst to happen, preparing himself for it. Rick leaned forward a little patting his knee.

“You gotta have hope brother. I know its hard. All the shit we’ve been through, all the people we lost. But you gotta have the hope she'll pull through. You gotta be strong. For her,” Rick insisted. Daryl finally met his eyes. It was hard to have hope. Hope never got him anywhere in life. But he knew what Rick was saying. He did need to be strong for her. He wasn't the one sick. She was probably terrified in there without him. He knew how much comfort she took in him. And he wasn't here to soothe her.

“She awake?” Daryl asked as he kept chewing his thumb.

“She’s in and out of it. Keeps askin' for you when she wakes up but then she's gone again,” Rick explained, his heart clenching at the guilt all over Daryl's face.

“As soon as she's out of the woods you can go and see her. But you know why I can let you go in yet right?” Rick asked with a frown. His own guilt eating at him for keeping Daryl away from the girl. Daryl nodded. He did get it. The last thing they needed was the whole community getting sick.

“Hows Glenn?” he stopped chewing his thumb because it started to hurt too much and went back to petting the bunny. Just like Zoey would do for comfort.

“He's hangin' on. His fevers pretty bad but Maggie and Denise are doin' all they can to bring it down,” Rick sighed. Daryl felt for the man. He looked so worn down and he knew he was shouldering the blame for all of this, despite the fact it was out of their control.

Days, four fucking days had passed and he hadn't been allowed to see her. They were all responding well to the meds, their fevers reducing, but it was slow progress and he still couldn't see her yet. He felt like he was losing his damn mind. Pacing around the house or harassing Rick for information about her and how she was. He knew this was how she felt every time he left the walls. Just cooped up in the house worrying like this. It made him feel so guilty for ever leaving. He knew what he was feeling now would only be a fraction of how she felt with her anxiety the way it was. Rick had told him she was awake now and she kept pleading to see him, it broke his heart. Luckily Maggie was there and she would sit with her and try to calm her down.

He got up and walked outside, ready to go and talk to Rick again, only to find Rick walking up his path. His heart sank again. It always did when he saw him now, expecting bad news. To hear she got worse or that she died in her fucking sleep.

“I spoke to Denise and she thinks you should be able to see her now. We put her in the room upstairs on her own. Because she was the last to get sick, she responded quicker than the others to the meds. We didn't want her to get sick again so she's on her own out of the way,” Rick explained. Daryl felt like he might cry out of relief and nodded, all but running to the infirmary.

When he got there he walked right in, giving Glenn and Maggie a nod as he walked past. Glenn looked better, not as sick as Rick had described and Daryl was glad it seemed like things were looking up. He took the stairs two at a time, the nerves and excitement of seeing her overwhelming him. He opened the door and walked inside, watching as she sat up straighter looking like a spooked animal, the fear all over her face and it broke his heart. Seeing her after convincing himself she was going to die made his heart shatter in his chest and he ran over to her. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her in a hug as he tried to stop the onslaught of tears that were fighting him. She sobbed helplessly as she clung to him like a lost child and it only hurt him more.

He moved to sit on the bed, still holding her as he stroked her hair, burying his nose in it and letting her scent soothe him. She was okay and alive. They were silent as she cried and he fought his own tears, soaking each other in. They both knew the gravity of the situation and it had jarred them both. When she finally moved away she wiped her watery eyes as he looked at her. She still looked a little paler than usual, he dreaded to think what she looked like when she was worse.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her voice shaky and rough sounding from all the coughing she had been doing. His heart squeezed in his chest.

“I missed ya too,” he replied, his own voice thick with emotion.

She took his hand, shaking her head as another sob left her lips and she kissed his knuckles affectionately. It seemed to be something she did a lot and it always made his insides turn to mush. She had been so frightened here without him. Being kept away from him like this was her own personal hell. Finally seeing him again made her feel all sorts of things and she was overwhelmed.

“I love you,” she blurted, looking up at him so earnestly he felt like the air got sucked out of his lungs. The words caught him off guard. He knew he felt that way about her but he hadn't told her yet because he was convinced she wouldn't feel the same. And now she was outright telling him. It felt like a flock of birds were in his stomach, fluttering as they tried to escape. The worry and fear of losing her was still bubbling under the surface and her words seemed to break the dam. He lowered his head as a choked sob left his lips, his chest heaving. She watched him forlornly, her own tears trailing down her cheeks. She was nervous that he hadn't said anything but he was so sad it was killing her.

“I love ya too,” he sobbed brokenly, trying to tell his brain she was okay, that she wasn't going to die. That he wouldn't lose the most important person in his life. Her heart expanded at his words and she pulled him closer, kissing him softly. Denise had told her she shouldn't be contagious anymore and she was glad. She had needed Daryl more than anything. When they broke apart he rested his forehead on hers, his chest still heaving as he tried to calm himself.

“I thought… “ he couldn't even finish his sentence, the thought hurting him in every way. He shook his head as he tried to suppress another sob.

“I know. But I’m here. You're here. We’re both okay,” she soothed, stroking his cheek and making him look at her. He inhaled deeply, leaning into her touch as it grounded him. Bringing him back to the here and now where they were indeed both fine and well. He gave her a little smile as he hand came up and buried itself in her long dark hair. The air around them felt lighter now they knew how they felt about one another. Like the heavy burden of keeping it to themselves had been lifted.

Daryl never would have thought she felt the same way, he would have told her sooner if he knew. He still didn't understand it. How someone as amazing as her would want him. Yet here she was, with him and declaring her love for him. It made him feel good. Maybe things were looking up for once.

“You know, you actually told me you loved me the night you got drunk,” she said with a wry smile as she wiped her eyes, trying to lighten the mood. Now he had said it back to her she felt like she could mention it. He squinted a little, his brain suddenly remembering and his cheeks tinged pink as she laughed lightly.

“You fell right asleep too so I never had the chance to ask if you meant it,” she smiled softly, still holding his hand. He looked at her, leaning in and brushing the tip of his nose against hers.

“‘Course I meant it. Didn't mean to say it when I was drunk but I fuckin’ meant it,” he whispered, her breathing hitching a little at their closeness. It always made her head spin. He captured her lips in a needy kiss. One she willingly melted into as she kissed him back. They had been used to being separated for days when Daryl left the walls but this was different. Daryl had put himself in huge danger and she had been so sick they didn't know if she would pull through. They had missed each other and both dealt with their own worries.

They were panting when they broke apart and she opened her big blue eyes to look into his. Daryl’s lips quirked into a smile, one she mirrored as she just stayed close to him, wanting to soak him in as much as she could.

“I love ya,” he murmured against her lips, feeling so fucking wonderful and light that he could freely say that now without worry. The amount of times he had almost just blurted it out to her when the feeling overwhelmed him. She grinned at him, her cheeks a pretty pink colour.

“I love you too,” she replied with a smile, making a warmth spread through his chest. He was so grateful she was okay. Grateful it looked like Glenn would be okay and the others. The good thing was that they had grabbed so much medication that if something like this happened again, they would be prepared next time and hopefully it wouldn't get this bad.

He remembered what Rick said about having hope. Something he never had in his life because he always felt like it was pointless. But now he found himself with a little spark of hope in his chest. Hope that things were getting better. Hope that he would be able to live out his life here with his girl and they could both be happy. That he could truly be happy for once. Maybe this hope thing wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog @walkingdead-dixon @of-storms-and-sadness @lonewolf471

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic

[find-the-eyes]

I’ll Try Anything Once: Chapter 45

Written by: Allegra, Sol

Edited by: Allegra, Beth

That night, Nick woke up with sore legs and a dull, throbbing pain in his chest. He opened his eyes slowly, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. He saw Alex peacefully sleeping next to him on the beanbag chair and knew that if he gathered up his strength, he could wake him up. Nick didn’t want to worry Alex. Worrying Alex was his worst fear. Although they talked everything out, Nick was still afraid that Alex would overstep his boundaries again if his condition worsened.

Shaking his concern and dazed by the pain, Nick reached his arm out to wake Alex, gently poking his shoulder. Just a small amount of pressure on his finger sent waves of sharp pain shooting up his arm and to his chest. He tried not to cry as he waited for a response from Alex.

“...Nick?” Alex asked as he opened his eyes, his voice soft from sleep. “What’s wrong?”

Nick could barely answer, anxiety about the pain piling on top of the pain itself. He struggled to verbalize fragments of various words and phrases.

“Does something hurt?” Alex asked, sitting up so he could face Nick.

Nick nodded as he tried to sit up as well. He couldn’t read the emotion on Alex’s face through his blurred vision, his tears welling up and turning everything hazy.

“Ah, okay…” Alex stroked Nick’s hair gently. “I think your pain meds have worn off. They’re supposed to be given every eight hours, but I think you had them early because you went to sleep early. That’s not a problem. Would you like to come with me to get your meds?”

Nick nodded again and helped as Alex sat him up. The pain in his chest was still dull. Nothing to worry about. Right?

“Do you want to walk or go on wheels?”

“Wheels, please,” Nick choked out, wheezing against the pain in his chest.

Alex lifted Nick into his wheelchair and began wheeling him to the kitchen. 

“It’s… dark?” Nick asked, wondering if Alex would turn on a light.

“Oh, uh, I’ll get a flashlight!” Alex ran back to his room to grab his flashlight from the top drawer of his dresser. “There we go.” He shined the flashlight towards the end of the hallway.

“Why not just…” Nick motioned at a light switch.

“Wouldn’t want to wake Steck.”

Nick shrugged and adjusted his ventilator mask. He felt another wave of pain radiating from his chest. 

“You alright?” Nick nodded. Alex opened the refrigerator and got out Nick’s pain medicine. “Do you need the full dose?” 

Nick nodded again. He smiled at Alex’s concern, and his smile widened when he felt a soft tail brush against his legs. “Steck!” he said, leaning awkwardly over the ventilator to pet him. Alex walked over with the medication dosing cup and a glass of water and grinned at the sight.

“Do you want to hold Steck after you take this?” Alex asked, sliding the mask off Nick’s face.

Nick nodded earnestly, quickly downing his medicine and a few sips of water. “Ready!” Alex giggled and placed Steckrübe in Nick’s lap after he put Nick’s mask back on. Nick held him close, scratching between his ears and whispering to him in German. Alex’s heart thumped in his chest and he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.

After a few moments, Alex instinctively grabbed the handles of the wheelchair to roll Nick back to bed, but he stopped himself. “Are you ready to go back to bed now?”

“Wait,” Nick said quietly. “I want to…” He let go of Steck, who hopped down onto the floor, and shifted to get a better hold on the ventilator. Then he grabbed the wheels on his chair and began rolling himself into the living room. Alex walked behind him, fighting the urge to help. Clearly Nick had something in mind.

Nick rolled himself to the window and pulled the shades open. Although the lights of the city were bright, Nick could see the stars outside, finally. It had been a long time since he had seen them. When Nick pointed to something, Alex leaned in to join him. “Moon…” Nick smiled.

Alex wrapped his arms around Nick’s shoulders. “The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” Nick just nodded, his eyes still on the sky. “We could go stargazing sometime, if you want…”

“Really?!” Nick leaned his head back to look up at Alex. “I’ve never been…”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, excited at the prospect. He looked up at Alex again. “I think I’m ready...for bed now.”

Alex wheeled Nick back to the bedroom and helped him back out of the chair. He then helped him get into his bed, smiling as Nick curled up beneath the blankets.

“Are you feeling better?” Alex asked as he settled into his beanbag chair.

Nick blinked a few times and then shook his head. “It still hurts.”

“Want me to sleep with you tonight?”

“Can you…?” 

Without a word, Alex slipped under the covers beside Nick, tangling his legs with Nick’s and pulling him close. “Alright?”

“Of course,” Nick smiled. “And thank you…”

“For what?”

“For asking…for listening.”

Alex smiled as Nick nestled himself into his pillow and quickly fell asleep. “Goodnight, Nick,” he whispered.

--

That morning, Alex awoke to a loud buzzing on the nightstand. It was a phone call from his mother, who immediately began asking if he was planning on coming home for Christmas. Alex half-listened to her rambling, still groggy after only a few hours' sleep.

“I was planning on it, but…” Alex said once he was able to get a word in edgewise. He looked back at Nick, who was still peacefully asleep, Steckrübe by his side and the ventilator humming on the nightstand. He had to tell her. "I don't think I can come home."

"What?!"

"I'm sorry for telling you so late, but...Nick has been...not well lately. He's been really sick and he's not even supposed to leave the flat. I can't leave him here alone."

The tone of Alex's mother's voice shifted. "What? Nick is sick?! What happened to him?"

"Long story. I really can't leave him, and he's not allowed to travel right now, so…"

“Oh…”

“I promise I’ll be back sometime soon, alright?”

“Alright.” Alex noticed the hint of resignation in his mother’s voice. “You’re sure Nick can’t just come with you? He’s always welcome here, you know.”

“I know,” Alex said sadly. “But he can’t go on a plane until he’s fully healed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Alex’s mother’s voice was lighter now. “I’m glad you have each other. You’ve seemed a lot happier since you met him.”

“Yeah,” Alex said quietly. He wondered if his mother could tell that he was smiling. “I am.”

By the time Alex hung up with his mother, Nick was awake and patting Steckrübe gently. Alex heard Steck’s soft meows and turned around.

“You’re up early!” Alex went over to Nick and sat down next to him.

“I heard you… on the phone,” Nick said softly, looking up into Alex’s eyes.

“Oh! Are you okay with staying here for Christmas?”

Nick nodded, “Can’t go… anywhere else.”

“That’s very true. Want breakfast?” Nick nodded vigorously. "In bed?" Nick's eyes lit up and he nodded harder. Alex kissed his forehead. "Alright. Be back soon!"

Unfortunately, when Alex opened the refrigerator to grab the smoothie ingredients, there were none to be found. There wasn't much of anything left, aside from a few slices of shrink-wrapped cheese, some butter, and a few assorted condiments. He figured that Nick would be fine with just some toast - until he checked the counter and discovered that they were also out of bread. Alex groaned and made his way back down the hall, where Nick was still petting Steck.

"That was fast," Nick said, looking perplexed.

"Yeah, we have, like, no food," Alex said with a grimace. "We're going to have to go to the store..." He envisioned the entire process - getting Nick changed into some proper clothes, putting him in the wheelchair, bringing him down to the car and helping him get in, folding up the wheelchair, repeating the entire process in reverse at the store…

"I can...stay home."

"What?'

"I'll stay home," Nick repeated, more firmly this time. 

The next words out of Alex's mouth were almost I'm not leaving you home by yourself before he remembered his promise from the previous day. He swallowed hard. "Okay…you're sure?"

"I'm fine…I'll just rest...with Steck," Nick said. He scratched Steck's chin.

"Okay. You'll call me if you need me, right?"

"I'll be fine…" Nick sensed Alex's uneasiness and added, "I'll call you...if I need you."

Alex nodded and gave him a wave. "Alright. Be back soon."

--

Alex stood in the produce section, examining boxes of strawberries and deciding which more fun and exotic fruits they would go with. Maybe Nick would like a starfruit smoothie? Was it worth it to spend five quid to shred up a starfruit, or would Nick like to eat it sliced instead? Alex sighed and picked up a starfruit, considering it before placing it in his basket.

Every time Alex bought something new for Nick, like fuzzy socks or a new type of fruit or a brand new sweatshirt, he realized that it was often the first time Nick had ever experienced it. How had he gone his entire life without wearing fuzzy socks? Alex eyed a box of cherries and went to examine it to make sure they were ripe. You could never trust ‘fresh’ produce in Glasgow winters, at least according to Paul. Alex decided that the cherries were fresh and put them in his basket. As he went to shop for bread and some other essentials, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Alex?” A familiar cheery voice said from behind him.

Alex turned around to see Julian with a basket full of sweets and other snacks. He greeted him politely, not sure why Julian was so eager to see him. He had only spoken to him when picking Nick up from class a few times after Julian walked him out. 

"Where's Nick?" he asked with a bright smile, clutching the basket in one hand and running the other through his floppy curls. "I haven't seen him in so long! Is he ok? Did he go back to Germany? I miss Steckrübe too! Is he doing alright?"

“He’s doing alright now,” Alex smiled, “and so is Steckrübe.”

“What do you mean, now? Did something happen?”

“Yeah, uh…” Alex sighed, “Nick was in the hospital for a month. He popped his lung trying to stage dive and went into respiratory failure. He’s doing alright now, but he’s still on a ventilator and quarantined in the flat.”

“A ventilator? That doesn’t sound good! How does that work? Can he breathe alright? What happens if Steck's fur gets in it?!” Julian, although quite alarmed, somehow still looked cheery.

Alex explained how the ventilator worked and told Julian that Nick was completely fine and on his way to a full recovery.

“So he’ll be able to walk soon and go to class?”

“Yeah, hopefully,” Alex affirmed Julian’s concerns. 

"Great! Can I bring him a get well gift later? Does he want some snacks?"

Alex was amazed that one person could be full of so many questions. "Yeah? I guess he does?"

Before Julian could embark on another barrage of questions about Nick, a woman with curly brown hair pushed her trolley up beside them. “Who’s this, Julian?”

“Mum! This is Alex, Nick’s flatmate! I told you about him, remember? He brought his cat to class and then disappeared? Well, I just found out he’s been really sick and quarantined in his flat and I’d like to bring him a gift later! Is that alright?”

“You’re sure you can bring a gift if he’s quarantined?”

Julian looked to Alex for an answer. Alex nodded. “As long as you don’t have any particularly harmful germs about you.”

“Is he contagious?”

“No, it was an injury.”

Julian’s mum looked back and forth between the two men. “In that case… I guess you can go after we’re done here. I’ll walk you there.”

“I’ll go look for a gift, then! See you later, Alex!” Julian took off to look for a plushie for Nick, leaving Alex with his mum.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Alex,” she smiled warmly. She was a calmer presence compared to Julian, and Alex wondered how she was so patient with him.

Alex made his way to check out after finding everything he needed for Nick’s breakfast and meals for the next week. As he paid for his items, he couldn’t help but wonder how Nick was such good friends with Julian. They were complete opposites in every way, and Alex knew that Julian had definitely latched onto Nick rather than the other way around.

Once he reached his flat, Alex greeted Nick and immediately started throwing together a breakfast for him. He decided to slice the starfruit rather than blending it.

“Julian’s coming over today,” Alex said to Nick as he placed his breakfast down on the nightstand.

Nick grinned as Alex removed the mask and gave him his breakfast. Breathing without the mask was still a bit of a challenge, but being unable to consume solid food for weeks had truly made him appreciate eating, so he was happy to put up with it for a short time. He picked up a piece of toast with both hands and nibbled on it carefully. "Really? When?"

“He said he was coming as soon as he finished shopping, so… he should be here soon. Do you want to get ready?”

As soon as Nick nodded and put his toast down, Alex heard the doorbell. “That must be him. Stay here, I’ll get it.” He slipped Nick’s mask on and ran to get the door. Alex welcomed Julian into the flat and noticed that he was holding a gift bag.

“Where’s Nick? Is he awake? I’m sorry I came so early; I wasn’t expecting to visit!” 

Alex just laughed in response and led Julian to Nick’s bedroom. He opened the door slowly, anticipating Julian’s reaction and his onslaught of questions. Julian peeked around the door frame and gasped at the sight of Nick. Alex could have sworn he saw Julian visibly deflate. And for once, Julian didn't have words.

When Nick saw Julian, his eyes instantly lit up. He nudged Steckrübe, who was sleeping beside him.

Julian took a deep breath and slowly approached Nick. He opened the gift bag and smiled. “A birthday gift and a get well gift!” 

Nick reached into the bag and pulled out a lobster plushie and a koala plushie. He hugged the plushies with as much strength as he could and then placed them down next to Steckrübe.

“Can you talk with that mask on?” Julian asked, wondering if Nick was being quiet on purpose or not.

Nick nodded. “A little.”

“Does it hurt?”

Nick thought for a moment. “Without medicine… yeah.”

Julian nodded thoughtfully. “Is Steck happy you’re home? I heard you were away for a month! Do you remember any of it?”

At the mention of his name, Steck’s ears perked up and he let out a small meow. Nick didn’t answer any of the questions, too tired and out of it to speak that much.

“Steck!” Julian gasped and patted Steckrübe’s head. “Are you alright, Nick? Can you breathe? I’m sorry if I’m interrupting your breakfast. Did you finish your breakfast?”

After Nick once again didn’t answer fully, Alex intejected. “Nick’s still not feeling well. He can’t talk all that much. Right, Nick?” Nick looked up at Alex and nodded, relieved that Alex had jumped in to help this time. After this reminder, Julian sat down in the beanbag beside Nick and tried to talk a bit more slowly.

Alex smiled and went to the kitchen to clean up from breakfast. He could still hear Julian rambling away in the other room about what Nick missed in class and how bad he felt for him, although he couldn’t hear Nick offering anything in return. But Julian was obviously responding to something, considering he was taking little breaks between his rambles. By the time Alex came back into the room, Julian was telling a story and using Steckrübe to act out one of the characters as Nick laughed along quietly. Holding Steckrübe was a huge sign of trust from Nick, and Julian had entered the VIP friend-of-Steck club.

Julian was mid-sentence when his mum rang to tell him that he had been at Alex and Nick’s flat for too long. He sighed as he listened to her and then hung up. “My mum wants me to go,” he sighed, reminding Alex of just how young he still was. “It was nice seeing you guys! Can I come over again soon?" He looked expectantly between Alex and Nick.

Nick nodded furiously, which made both Alex and Julian giggle. "I think that's a yes," Alex smiled.

"Ok! See you guys!" Julian gave them a wave and headed out of the flat, a noticeable spring in his step.

Alex turned back to Nick. “What did you two talk about?”

Nick smiled, “School, music… Steck…” 

Alex laughed softly. “That’s great, Nick. I didn’t know you were so close with Julian!”

Nick nodded, “he’s my… only friend at school.” He paused, then added, "I think I'm...his only friend too."

"Yeah? I guess I can see that." Alex admired how perceptive Nick was, even if he didn't always show it. "But I'm glad you two found each other."

"Yeah," Nick agreed. 

“Want to get ready for the day now? I think you need a bath…”

“I’m smelly… I know…” Nick looked up at Alex with a grin.

"I mean, I wasn't going to say anything, but..." Alex returned Nick's smile. It felt good to see Nick so happy. He leaned down and gave Nick a kiss on the forehead. "Love you."

Nick beamed and bonked Alex's face with his mask. "Love you too."

#illtryanythingonce #allfanfic #franz ferdinand

[tarisilmarwen]

Splinters: Insulated

(I hate shots and having bloodwork done so I gotta inflict those feelings on Ezra too because shut up it totally works for the story anyway.

TW: Needles.)

---

Ezra fidgeted on the examination table, hearing the med droids shuffle around behind him, as Leslynn poked and prodded at his shoulders and arms, glancing down every so often at her scanner.

Apparently he'd strained himself a little too much cleaning off the Ghost. There was a soreness in his shoulders that refused to go away. Leslynn was checking him for pulled muscles now.

She examined him silently, eyes focused on her work, and Ezra's fidgeting grew more and more agitated the longer she refused to follow the script that had been playing persistently in his head, didn't speak the words that he'd been waiting for and dreading ever since Hera had noticed him wincing in pain and ordered him to go see the medic.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Aren't you going to say it?" he asked, blurting out the words.

Absently, she replied, "Say what, Ezra?"

"'I told you so.'"

She pinched along his left bicep. "What would be the point in that?" she said. "I'm sure you're already beating yourself up for it plenty."

Ezra sighed, even as a quiet relief trickled down through his throat. "Well... you're not wrong about that," he told her.

Leslynn stepped back, rubbing a hand across her face. "Right, well, good news is that it doesn't look like you've pulled anything, but you have overstrained both deltoids and trapeziuses. You'll be fine in a day or two but you're going to need—"

"Let me guess..." Ezra interrupted, a groan in his voice. "Rest."

The doctor smiled faintly. "Just avoiding strenuous labor should do." She handed her scanner off to one of the med droids. "Can't do anything about your massive guilt-complex though, I'm afraid," she added as a joke.

That made Ezra chuckle. "Let me worry about that, Doc. I don't think that's exactly your area of expertise," he teased back.

"That's the Ezra Bridger I know," smiled Leslynn, demeanor brightening.

Ezra swung his feet, hopping down off the table. "Am I done?" he asked.

"Not quite." Leslynn hesitated, looking suddenly uncomfortable. She coughed into her fist. "There's been an infection going around in the ranks. I'm sure you've heard."

Ezra nodded. "Yeah. Wedge caught it yesterday, was a snot-covered bundle of blankets last I saw him." He squinted, staring off, trying to recall what Wedge had called it. "Balma-something flu?"

"Balmorra flu," Leslynn corrected. "I don't suppose you've ever been inoculated against it? Or had it previously?" she asked, tone slightly hopeful.

He shook his head. "Not likely."

Leslynn's expression dimmed. "Rebel Command wants me to immunize anyone who hasn't caught it yet," she explained. "To keep the spread down."

That hung in the air a moment.

"...Oh," Ezra said, realizing the implications. He tried to ignore the winch tightening in his throat, the nervous way his pulse pricked up. "Are—are you sure you have to—? I can't—" He reorganized his thoughts. "Can I just catch it and suffer through it and get it over with that way?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes skeptically. "Do you really want to?"

Ezra thought back to Wedge's greenish, sweat-covered face and slumped his shoulders.

"No," he admitted, dropping his eyes to the floor.

A silence stretched out. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, uncomfortably loud.

He felt Leslynn stepping closer.

"Would you... like someone else to be here in the room with you?" she offered.

He inhaled slowly, his breath shaking, vibrating like his hands were now. "No," he started to say. "I—I think I'm—I can handle—"

He stopped, squeezing his eyes closed.

Don't be stubborn, you idiot, he chided himself.

He opened his eyes again, looking up at Dr. Leslynn. "Can... can you call Kanan?" he said timidly.

She nodded, stepping back and looking for her comlink.

Ezra moved back towards the examination table, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself while he waited.

***

Kanan walked through the door only a few minutes later, soft smile on his face.

"Hey kid," he called, coming forward. "I'm glad you called for me."

Ezra was staring down at the table, his teeth pressing together. "This is stupid," he muttered. "It's just a shot. Just a litle nee—needle," he said, his voice stumbling and hitching over the word. "I should be able to handle this." His hands crept up towards his head, fingers scratching through his hair.

"Easy," Kanan told him, reaching out and grabbing one of his hands, pulling it firmly away from digging into his scalp. "Let's just focus on what we need to do for now. Don't think about what you should be able to handle. Trust me," he said, squeezing Ezra's hand. "It doesn't help."

Kanan was right. Of course he was. But that nagging little negative voice in his head—sounded like Pryce most days—kept whispering to him.

He clenched his jaw tighter, forcing himself to tune it out.

Leslynn had her tray next to her, just out of Ezra's line of sight, and stepped in front of it as she turned to face the two Jedi.

Kanan alerted to her movement. "You're ready?" he guessed.

Leslynn nodded, then, remembering with a wince that Kanan couldn't see it, added verbally, "I am. Go ahead and do your..." She trailed off, making wide gestures with her hands. "...Force... thing..."

Kanan's other hand came around Ezra's, clasping the boy's palm tightly with both of his. "All right," he said. "Just like we did on the Ghost. Focus."

Ezra let his eyes fall closed, prying his jaws apart and taking in a slow breath.

He reached out, the Force coming into focus like a warm pocket of air around him.

Emotion, yet peace, he recited inside his head.

He felt Leslynn pushing up his sleeve, and his skin prickled with goosebumps.

Passion, yet serenity.

He wondered idly why the mantra Kanan had taught him was slightly different than the one he'd heard studying the Jedi holocron.

Maybe Kanan had learned a different version.

He risked peeking an eye open and regretted it when he saw the syringe. It was much thinner than the ones they'd used on him on the Chimaera, but that didn't stop the flickers of panic that started to creep through the warm edges of the Force.

Leslynn stepped over to the table, her face grimacing apologetically.

"It'll be quick," she promised.

Ezra nodded, closing his eyes again and bracing himself, his throat dry.

Echoes sounded dully outside the circle of calm surrounding him and Kanan. Ezra concentrated on his own breathing, keeping to a quiet corner of his mind. Nervous trickles pulsed through his veins.

There was a small pinprick.

Ezra gasped sharply, his hand mashing Kanan's. His face screwed tightly. Fragments of Pryce's voice pounded in his head.

"Ezra?" Kanan called, tone laced with worry.

Ezra let out the breath he was holding, letting his memories and emotions disappear into the Force. "I'm okay!" he wheezed. "I'm... I'm okay."

Leslynn was dabbing at his arm with an antiseptic swab. Ezra blinked. Was it already over?

His breathing steadied, the pings of anxiety in his head fading away.

"All done!" Leslynn chirped brightly. She sealed a bacta patch onto the injection site and stepped back with a smile. "You handled that very well, Ezra."

Ezra felt the corners of his mouth twitching up, mingled relief and pride vibrating through him.

"Not bad, kid," Kanan complimented warmly, patting his hand. He stood, pulling Ezra to his feet. "Come on," he said. "Let's go see if Hera's back from her mission."

He followed after Kanan, pulling down his sleeve, frowning slightly as he noticed the scars still left from all the other injections.

He put it out of mind.

---

The ever-customary Chapter Notes!

1. Still no therapists, but at least Kanan's around! And has calming Force techniques.

2. Leslynn is not quite over being dragged into Kanan and Ezra's Battle Meditation back in "Cracks In The Mirror" and would prefer they do their weird Jedi magic without her this time thank you very much.

3. A slightly altered version of the Jedi Code appears in the Kanan: The Last Padawan comic, as taught to him by Depa Bilaba.  And I always found it fascinating in the way it was altered and how fitting it was for Depa--AKA Miss Trained By "I'll Just Invent A New Lightsaber Form That Lets Me Safely Channel Dark Side Energy Without Falling" Mace Windu--to have learned it that way.  So the unconventional Jedi teachings continue to get passed down.

4. And now we see Ezra starting to make a bit of progress in his recovery, namely, not avoiding offered help and finding healthier coping mechanisms than being a workaholic. (For now at least.)

Next chapter's probably also gonna be a bit on the short side before I hit you with a couple longer ones. Thanks for sticking with me, readers!

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #space dad and his precious pumpkin child #fanfiction #prompt fics

[bondedbrotherhood-blog]

Familiar tension

written by @MurhderBDB  @TenaciousDoctor and @SympathAssassin

Murh:  

Fuck this shit  *Jane was the first person to get my aggressive vibe and she was visibly cautious.  Not that I could blame her but my aggression was not aimed at her or anyone here.  It was aimed at those fucking lessers that kept coming at us on 10th.  It was as if they were crawling out of the walls and kept multiplying.  We all took a hit.  In some way or another.  I took a bullet to the abdomen and here I was.  Pissed the fuck off and Jane has to deal with it.  I felt a great deal of relief that she didn’t refer me to the human doc or send me to Havers’s.  But that didn’t change my mood.*

Stitch me up.  I want to go back out there and get those fuckers!

Jane:  *Every room in the medwing had one or two casualties in, and between Manny, myself and Ehlena we were working down the priority list as fast and effectively as we could.  Murh’s aggression added frustration to an already stressful night, and I wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit*

You’re not going anywhere.  Sit your ass down and keep quiet so I can do my work.  If you don’t cooperate, I will transfer you to Harvers’s clinic.  Are we clear?

*The response was a half hearted nod and I expected as much, but I was done being bullied by Murh and his anger issues.  The past few months between Murh and Manny screwed me up and I almost lost myself in the process.  Now that I was done dealing with the both of them, I was back on track to being myself.

I cleaned the wound and removed the bullet after anaesthetising the area.  One good thing about my vampire patients were that they handled pain very well.  After stitching up the wound, I turned and left the room to check in on Xhex who had come in earlier after a fight at the club turned nasty and Rehv insisted she gets checked out by us.

Walking into the room, I picked up Xhex’s chart and removed the pen from the pocket of my white coat*

How are we doing?  Wanna tell me what happened and where it hurts?

Xhex:  

Opening an eye looking around. Where the fuck am l? The events from the night before started to come back to me, I was outside the club when a disturbance had happened. Some humans had began fighting in the queue, they were getting impatient and decided to take their frustration out on each other. I had come outside to break it up when I felt a sharp pain in my lower back, I had been literally stabbed in the back. Fuck those fuckers were going to pay for this. I lost my concentration for a second letting my symphath side loose, feeding off their pain and abuse. A face abruptly came into view, Trez was shaking his head.

“Boss says you're going to the manse clinic where you can heal properly. He saw everything from his office”

Before I could protest Trez had bundled me into his car and had drove me up to the gargoyled monstrosity. Trez carried me to the clinic where the human female  doctor was waiting for our arrival. How I am going to kick Rehv’s ass for this, he knew full well how much I hated clinics. My anxiety rose, I thrashed against Trez till the female doctor and stuck a needle into my arm. It was lights out.

Waking in the bed in the clinic wondering on how long I had been here when the door opened. The human female doctor entered, she picked up the clipboard looking at what was written on it.

“How you feeling? Are you going to tell me what happened?”

I hated sharing, I wasn't going stay here for a second longer, I had business to sort out.

“No offense but I can heal quick. I need to be out of here”

Getting out of the bed, I stood up, my feet and legs baring my weight. Right bathroom, shower and dressed. I took one step forward and collapsed in a heap by the bed.

Murh:

*Jane treated me like another patient.  It pissed me off to be treated like I was nothing but a patient of hers.  I was more.  I demanded more.  But I kept my mouth shut because right now I was gonna blow my lid and fuck things up even more than I had before.  I bit down hard on my tongue tasting blood as Jane finished up and left the room.

I felt aggravated and pissed as hell.  Why the fuck did this female have this mind fucking dominance over me.  I wanted to let go with everything I fucking had in me but every time I heard her voice or saw her or even the mention of her name had me doing backflips.  FUCK.  

I listened as Jane opened the door of the room next to mine.  A sudden chill hit me and I wanted to stab something.  I had no fucking idea why I felt like this but it was a vigorous and nauceating feeling.  My stomach twisted and I fell back against the pillows.*

Jane:  *My green eyes flickered over Xhex, scanning for any visible injuries.  I didn’t get a chance to examine her while she was out cold because the med wing filled up so fast but Rehv wouldn’t have told Trez to bring her here if there wasn’t a reason.

As she spoke my eyes kept scanning for signs of discomfort.  She hid the pain well, but as she stood, her legs gave way causing me to lunge forward and grab hold of her.  On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say she was a 10 at being stubborn.  And that put her into the normal category around here*

Easy there.  Let’s get you back on the bed and check you out, okay?

*I didn’t expect a response since Xhex would be pissed at her inability to just get up and walk out.  Using my shoulder I half created a crutch to get her back on the bed and once she was lying down, I started to examine her body.  She had a laceration on her back but other than that everything checked out*  

You’re gonna be just fine, but this laceration is deep and needs internal and external stitches.  I’m going to give you a local anesthetic to numb the general area.  You won’t feel a thing.

Xhex:

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This female will probably think I'm weak, I'm beyond weak but having to use her as a crutch was embarrassing, was a sign that I was not altogether healed up. This was fucking great.

The female doctor went on about having stitches, my body froze at the thought of needles and being prodded and poked, but the female was soothing, her voice gentle as she explained to me what she was going to do. Nodding my head slightly agreeing to this, if I wanted out I had to let her do her thing.

I tried to relax, I had to get out of my head. My body began to hum, the last time my body did this was when he was about. He couldn't be here, the last time I saw him was when he followed me up north to the Symphath colony, when he found out what I truly was. If only I had told him my true nature, if only I had stopped him from following me, if only…

The last I knew of him was on that ghost hunting program, he was the ghost at the B & B in Charleston, South Carolina. He was going by the name of Eliahu Rathboone. I had to admit that was such a shock to see that face stare out from the tv screen.

Murh:

*Staring at the ceiling I wasn’t sure if I was glad to be lying down or pissed off to be in here.  My skin was crawling with a strange sense and a familiar scent that lingered nearby, but I shut it off.  My mind refused to go there.  I wouldn’t even allow myself to think about that scent or who it belonged to.  It’s not like she was here anyway.  It was my mind playing tricks on me.  Yeah.  That was it.

Maybe Jane was right about my mental health but I didn’t give a fuck.  The only thing keeping me sane now was fighting and fucking.  And as soon as I was healed up enough I’d be out there finding and killer lessers and fucking everything that moves.

If Jane came back in here I could maybe persuade her to lose the clothes and hop up on the bed.  The thought of Jane naked and climbing on top of me to ride my cock had me rock hard.*

Jane:  *I sensed a shift in the air as soon as it happened, but I wasn’t sure what it was about.  The atmosphere changed so suddenly and drastically, I had to get up and go have a look to see if there was any evidence of something going down.  I opened the door and popped my head out to look left and right down the tunnels and listen for any commotion, but there was nothing going on.  Weird.

The door swung closed with a soft click as I headed back to Xhex and started prepping for the procedure.  Once she was lying on her stomach, I prepared the injection and took a seat on the rolling stool.  Her eyes followed my every move and her discomfort with needles was evident when I brought the syringe closer*

Tell me a bit more about yourself for medical reasons.  Is there anything in your past, health wise, that I should be aware of?

*The slight diversion worked and I numbed the area around the laceration as well as inside it before Xhex finished telling her story*

Xhex:   

Rolling onto my front for the female doctor to do her thing, but I stiffened as I saw the needle.

“There's nothing medically wrong with me. Hate needles from a past experience”

Shut the fuck up or she be asking more questions I told myself. Luckily she didn't ask any more after that, once the needle had pierced my flesh she got on with stitching my wound up.

When she was done the female doctor helped me onto my back, I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, but when I place my foot onto the floor I couldn't feel a thing.

“What have you done to me? I need out of here like now”

Panic rose inside of me, I tried not to show it on my face. I had to get out of here, away from him. I don't want to know what he would do if he found me here. Shout, yell, trying to kill me. In a way I don't blame him for what I did, but for now it would be safer for others that I bailed now.

“I need out of here NOW!!”

Murh:

*My blood turned cold. The combination of aggression and arousal fucked with my mind. My hand shot down to my cock and gripped tight.  Balls throbbing.  Head spinning.  Cock twitching.  Up. Down.  My hand moved and worked my cock at a slow pace.  Images flashed between blinks. Female after female.  Faces without names.  The numerous females I fucked over the years to get one female out of my mind.  Her face haunted me and I wanted her memory gone.  I wanted the memory of what I saw when I went to find her in that cologny gone.  

By the grace of sheer will the images stopped and I closed my eyes seeing nothing.  A blank canvas.  

My hand kept up the slow stroking.  My eyes stayed closed.  The blank canvas remained long enough to get my aggression under some control and bring my focus back to my arousal.  Release was my aim.  I couldn’t give a fuck about messing all over the sheets.

My hand started pumping faster.  The door opened but I didn’t need to look.  Her scent gave her away and made my cock perform as if it was part of a circus.  Twitch.  Throb. Tingle.

Jane:  *The internal and external stitching went over smoothly, but Xhex still looked tense.  After I dressed the wound, I turned to take my gloves off and place all the gauze and instruments in the stainless steel bowl.  Xhex’s panicked voice brought me whirling around*  

Wait!!  The anesthetic has to wear off first.

*I leaned in and helped Xhex back on to the bed to lie on her side*

I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable, but it won’t take too long and then you will be out of here.  I do recommend that you take two days off to rest and heal up.  

*My words weren’t registering with Xhex.  She was too tense to listen to me, which caused me to change tactic*

Let me go check on the patient next door and when I return, I will take you up to one of the rooms and you can sleep there for a few hours.  I can’t discharge you if you don’t cooperate, and this way you won’t need to be around all the medical things.

*That got her attention and a nod confirmed her intention of a least listening for now.  I gave her a warm smile and turned to go back to Murh’s room, only to find…  Omg…*  Murh, what are you doing?

Xhex:   

The female doctor reassured me that she would have me put into another room. Anything to be away from this room with the medical equipment and of the scent of him.

“I’ll stay till I walk again, I cannot promise for the two days off. I'm needed at the…. Well let's say I'm good at my job”

I heard the doctor go next door where I heard her gasp in astonishment or was it in disgust? Had to be in disgust.

A nurse came in, helping me to the room above the medical ward, I hated being this useless, hated having to be dependent on another. Soon I was settled into the new room. As soon as the anesthetic wore off I was out of here. Another thing I was glad of was there wasn't the scent of him, I was sure I had smelt his scent, I had convinced myself but why now was my mind throwing this spanner at me.

Murh:  

*My hand slid up and down my cock.  My head rolled back on the pillow and FUCK.  Jane walked in and her scent sent me over the edge.  Hips thrusting up to meet the pace my hand was setting.  Jane mumbled something and then turned around to leave the room.  My growl was loud enough to shatter some of the glass in the room.  The words that followed were strained with need and full of warning.*  

You better fucking stay!

*Jane opened the door to speak in hushed tones to another female and then she closed the door and was at my side.  My hand shot out and gripped her arm.  She stood too far away.  I wanted her closer.  I wanted her hand to be doing the stroking.*  

Take over Jane.

*It wasn’t a request.  It was a order.*

Jane:   *As soon as I walked into the room, I turned around and called Ehlena over to help Xhex to a room upstairs.  When I turned back and closed the door, the sight that greeted me was interesting and disturbing.  I was rather familiar with the needs of the vampire males.  There had been many times I had to leave the room for one of them to get their hand action on, but Murh’s words… or rather the order he barked at me, pissed me off like nobody’s business.  

I turned to my right and grabbed a towel and tossed it over at him*

Clean up after yourself and don’t tear your stitches.  I’m going to check on the other patients and Manny will be back to check in on you soon.

*There was growling and cursing and whatever else, but I ignored it and walked out the room, closing the door behind me.  Leaving Murh alone with his hand*  #FamiliarTension   #BondedBrothers  

[megape]

Gifts (Blog Post)

Hi, I haven’t made a blog post in awhile regarding my growth, but that’s because I’ve been in a wishy-washy way of thinking. A lot of decisions are in my life right now, at least it feels like it, and I suppose they tend to overwhelm me. But I’ve been on new meds and I’m super stoked to see if they help out so anyway, regardless of this way of thinking, I’ve been bestowed a new healthier one! It’s like a new pair of glasses!! (Get ready for the sappiness because you guys that I tagged know I love you all to bits and if you don’t it’s about to be obvious.)

There’s a lot to point out for me in this blog post so I’m just going to ramble a bit as always.

First off, my relationship with YHWH hasn’t been the best lately. I dunno, I’ve been distant because of my depression. It got so bad a month or two ago that suicide was all I had thought about. For years I had prayed for a miracle, like They would swoop down and save me from my illness. I think I may have disregarded a lot of what They did for me on a day-to-day basis because I was looking for Them to take the Depression/Anxiety away and not just to help me through it. This put a toll on the relationship. Especially when it got to those suicidal thoughts I was having. I kept asking Them, “Am I suppose to die young? Am I being punished? Do I deserve this? Why am I hurting so much? Where are you?” 

And I remember one night I was crying to Them, specifically Him because I needed a father that night, and I told Him if he couldn’t be there beside me (which was a lie I was telling myself because of course He was right there beside me) that the least He could do was make me laugh. Ironically the next day was Easter so YHWH decided to bust out some dad jokes to make me feel better. He asked me, “What’s a bunny’s favorite way to hop?” And I remember sniffling in confusion as if he was about to tell me the stupidest joke known to man. And he responded, “To the Blitzkrieg hop! Get it? Because bunnies hop and the Blitzkrieg Bop is a song?”

I got a little off tangent, but the point of saying this experience is because that was a miracle. I may not of thought about it as so at the time, but They spoke to me and I let myself hear Them. 

It wasn’t until like two weeks or so ago that my therapist was telling me that maybe They had been sending miracles this entire time and I just never noticed because I was so stuck in my box of depression/anxiety. Which was true because I had more faith that my depression would consume me than that YHWH could save me! 

So she started to ask me the things I had been praying for and ways that They had been providing for those prayers already. I liked the way she worded it too, she called them “gifts.” So I started thinking about things differently and picked out scenarios in my head that were probably gifts from YHWH to help subdue my depression/anxiety.

One of the biggest wishes I’ve had is to not feel lonely. Specifically I kept praying for a romantic partner, but I never stopped to realize that in order to get there I had to have friends to create that from. And regardless of that, They provided me with plenty of friends when I needed it most and I completely disregarded it because it wasn’t a boyfriend or girlfriend. To point out, I sometimes appreciate the way the wind blows and completely forget to appreciate the fact that I had my best friend come down from Canada for over a week. I miss huge things because I get so stuck in the gloom that I look for tiny things too much. They’ve blessed me with some amazing people in my life right now and I never stopped to realize that they’ve been planted in my life as gifts to help with my depression/anxiety. This entire struggle where I ask for all these different prayer requests are being answered in smaller and bigger ways than I’ve cared to notice. I’ve been so stuck in my box that I haven’t gotten the chance to thank them for actually being a part of my healing.

I kept wanting Them to rescue me from my illness, but I forgot that in order to be saved I have to acknowledge and use the tools given to me so that I can be saved! It’s like someone throwing down a rope or giving me a boat or throwing me a float while i’m stuck in water. I kept wanting them to just take me from the water and didn’t realize they were giving me SO many options to get out and I just had to use the tools given to me. Granted, this healing will take time, but that’s why They’ve provided lots of tools and opportunities. 

So in essence of this realization I’m going to list some things off that have made me super happy and were probably gifts that They’ve been handing to me to help myself heal and grow.

-I made a really amazing friend at my old job and he’s been with me through thick and thin at this point. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s constantly reassuring me he’ll stay by my side and ilhsm. I don’t know what I’d do with you Chris.

-The friends who kept me going through school. Wow, I don’t think I would have made it without your support and goofy antics.

-Um, I went to Pride last year and that was SO much fun!!!!!!

-I have the opportunity to go to this church that’s nondenominational and they’ve been really accepting and loving. I also might try a universalist church because I feel like I want to go and create a community in order to help push me forward in healing.

-I made a super fucking awesome friend through this cute lil dating app and he’s been like the light of my life lately. Honestly I’ve done so many fun things with him these past couple months and he’s opened my life up to Dungeons and Dragons so that’s pretty radical!!! You may not know it, but you’ve been a really big blessing to my life. I’m glad you’re here on this planet at the same time as me. Sorry about the sappiness, but it’s true. :p

-I have this sweet lil bb of a friend that always checks in on me and sends me cute and funny things despite the fact that I’ve been a distant friend to her. ilysm Snikkers <3

-There’s yet another friend who has been there since practically my childhood who I’ve connected with progressively more as I’ve grown up. She’s amazing and funny and we laugh so much when we’re together. Whether it was webkinz and One Direction or to laughing about boys and sexuality you have been the best, Faith.

-My therapist. <3

-I have a really big imagination and it helps being able to create characters, I guess sort of like imaginary friends, that I can go through it with. Also, my imagination helps me have more faith that YHWH is beside me because I can imagine what it would be like and know that it’s happening. Even though I can’t “see” YHWH holding my hand or dancing in the car with me... I can imagine it and know that that’s exactly what’s going on.. even if my (earthly(?)) eyes can’t witness it yet. 

-I have the raddest and most amazing internet friend in the entire universe. She’s constantly there through thick and thin and wants to help even though I push her away sometimes. She’s been a definite miracle from God because I prayed for her a long time ago and she’s stayed in my life for MANY years now! wow, claps to you my best friend and soul sister

-My parents are the bomb. they’re funny and constantly asking how I’m doing and wanting to help in any way they can. They ask me all the time what they can do if I’m feeling sad and help me when I’m stressed. They’ve come along for a tough journey and I’m glad YHWH gave me parents that handle my issues with love. Though it may be hard at times and we may not see eye-to-eye they have always been there to learn and grow beside me.

-And lastly, all of these people and experiences (plus so many more I didn’t list, but will list below) have fulfilled my love languages in ways I never noticed until now. Like, YHWH has provided me with some pretty wicked people and I never really stopped to say thank you to anyone. 

So thank you:

To my friends @youcant-takemysky @imagine-starco @el-ahrairahthefakeghost @hamilzies @pontmarius and the others who don’t have tumblrs or I didn’t mention here. Here’s to the fun memories and quality time, conversations, words of encouragement, acts of service, physical affection, and gifts along the way. To me you’ve been gifts I couldn’t be more thankful for!

Sorry if this is too sappy for you; I just want everyone to know I love them unconditionally. If you know me, are getting to know me, or are a complete stranger: our interactions together make life worth living. If we can all give love and learn to receive it we can make this world a better place. :) ~

#spiritual #blog post #healing #depression #anxiety #YHWH #god #friendship #relationships #love #agape

[futureoutoffocus]

I saw a post by @denerims that inspired me with a gertchase prompt. The kids arrive at the hostel (a missing mansion that was swallowed by an earthquake) and decide to live there, but gert and chase start fighting about picking their rooms.

I tried my best to follow the prompt, but I ended up loosely following it. Thanks for the prompt @rowansdagger!! Hope you like it!

A couple of notes: It’s my first fic for the Runaways fandom and Gert/Chase pairing. Completely unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine. Also, English is not my first language. Any feedback is welcome!

Read on on AO3 here.

Why don’t you stay?

Chase remembers it a week after running away. He berates himself for not thinking it earlier, but he’ll blame it on the stress. After the bus station, where they found out they were framed for murder by the police, they managed to get their hands on a van. They slept on it for a few days. But they knew they couldn’t continue like that. Which is when Chase finally remembered he knew a place they could stay in.

Chase was staring at Gert calming Molly down when he remembered the hostel he found in one of the times he just needed to get out of the house avoiding his dad. He came back many times over the years, especially when his dad was in one of his moods. Then he entered high school and decided it was time to let things go, so he stopped going.

“Why didn’t you said anything days ago?” Gert says, as soon as he tells the group about the place. He shrugs.

“I didn’t remember it until now,” he admits.

Gert rolls her eyes, muttering something about him being an idiot.

“Well let’s check it out then,” Karolina says.

The hostel is an abandoned mansion. And it’s underground, so even though it looks old and not as safe as it should, Alex approves of it immediately. The place needs work, but Karolina is already thinking of ways to improve the place. The hostel has enough rooms so that each of them can have one.

“I can’t believe you hid this from us for a week,” Alex says while the six of them stand in the middle of the hallway where the rooms are. His tone is not accusatory, just tired.

“It is clearly too much to ask of him to remember useful stuff,” Gert mutters. Chase knows she’s been struggling with her anxiety, so he takes all the insults she throws his way. Now that they have a place to stay, he can focus on finding a way to get her meds.

“Alright, so who’s getting what room?” Nico asks.

Gert tunes out of the conversation then. She keeps eyeing the place, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. The building is old and she isn’t sure what would happen if another earthquake happens. They will probably die crushed in the building and no one will ever find their bodies. Old Lace senses her anxiety and gets closer to her.

“Can I get the master bedroom?” asks Molly, as soon as they step into the room. She’s excited that they will finally get to sleep in a bed.

Gert takes in the room. It is pretty huge and even has its own bathroom. It definitely is a place for a couple and Nico and Karolina should get to enjoy that.

“I think we should leave that room to Nico and Karolina,” Gert says, sending them a smirk. Karolina blushes while Nico just rolls her eyes, crossing her arms.

Alex, who’s deep in thought, offers another solution.

“Actually, Gert, I think you should have it. You need the extra space for Old Lace,” he reasons.

“No, it’s fine. Molly can have it,” Gert says immediately, trying to offer a smile. She can’t stop thinking about how flimsy the walls look. They won’t survive an earthquake, she thinks.

“I agree with Alex, Gert. You take this room,” Chase adds.

“Well nobody asked you, jockstrap,” she snaps.

Molly tries to suppress a laugh at seeing Chase’s kicked puppy face appear.

“I’m just saying it makes sense for you to have the bigger room, so that you and Old Lace can be comfortable,” he insists. And Molly wishes her sister would stop self-sabotaging herself.

“Can’t you just shut up for a minute?” she snaps. “You couldn’t even think of this place until now. I just want you to leave me alone!”

Chase’s face falls. He nods once more before leaving the room. He knows she’s going through a hard time and wants to avoid any confrontation.

It’s much later, when everyone it’s in their new rooms – Karolina and Molly end up convincing Gert that it was okay for her to take the room. Molly is across the hall from her; Alex in the one next to Molly. Chase snubbed the room next to Gert’s. Nico and Karolina in the room next to his – although officially, Karolina’s room is the one across the hall from Nico’s. But everyone knows the truth.

Chase is tired. He’s happy they get to sleep on actual beds, but he can’t help but feel guilty about having taking so long in thinking about this place. A voice in his head that sounds a lot like his dad tells him that of course he couldn’t do something as simple as remembering a place. He can’t even take care of them with something as simple as that. So Chase is tired, but his body doesn’t want to go to sleep. He moves around the bed trying to force himself to sleep. He’s about to fall asleep when he hears a soft knock on his door.

Chase gets up groggily wearing shorts and a T-shirt and opens the door to find Gert on the other side. She fidgets with the hem of her his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, not meeting his eyes. Chase stares at her, still a little confused and surprised to see her there.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For snapping at you earlier,” she whispers. Chase thinks she looks adorable. “I just- I-”

“Hey, I get it, alright?” he assures her, stopping himself from hugging her. They still haven’t talked about what happened at the dance. At least properly talked about it.

They stare at each other in silence. Chase wishes he could be brave enough to tell her how important she is to him, how he wants to give her the world, tell her that he will protect her and Molly and everyone else, no matter what.

“I’ll go back to my room before Old Lace starts making noise and wakes everyone up,” Gert says, wishing she could tell him that she didn’t mean when she said their hook up was a one-time thing.

“Ok,” he whispers, a little disappointed.

“Goodnight, Chase,” she says quietly, heading for her room.

Chase wishes her a goodnight and closes his door. He curses himself for not being brave enough to confess his feelings for Gert.

Chase jolts awake, breathing heavily. He takes a moment to realize it was just a dream. A nightmare, more than a dream. Or is it? The hostel is too quiet, and he needs to make sure it was actually a dream. So he hastily gets up and heads to Gert’s room. He stops himself outside her door, trying to calm his breath. He knocks softly, but insistently, and waits for a few minutes before opening the door. He just wants to see for himself that she’s okay.

He looks at Old Lace, who acknowledges Chase, but realizes he’s not a threat so she stays put. Gert wakes up groggily.

“Chase, what are you doing here?” she asks, rubbing her eyes. She was about to fall asleep.

“I-” he is not so sure how to respond to that.

Gert notices the fear in his eyes and pats the spot next to her in the bed. He takes her up on her offer, hopping on the bed and sitting next to her.

“What happened?” she asks.

“I- I just needed to see you were OK,” he admits, softly. “I had a nightmare. He was hurting you, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I just-”

He starts breathing heavily again, the memories of the nightmare too real. Gert takes his hands in hers. She turns his head to make him look at her.

“Hey, Chase, breathe, okay?” she whispers. “I’m fine, we’re all fine.”

Chase buries his face in her neck, hugging her tightly. Gert doesn’t let go. She adjusts in the bed, and they end up lying down, Chase still hugging her. And both of them are too tired to overthink the situation.

“I won’t let my father ever get near you,” Chase whispers when both of them are relaxed and about to fall asleep. “I promise.”

When Chase wakes up the next day, the first thing he notices is Gert still wrapped in his arms. He nuzzles her neck, taking her in. Gert slowly wakes up, and for a split second tenses, before relaxing in Chase’s arms. She knows she can’t let this be a thing, but she can enjoy it for a few more minutes. Old Lace breaks the mood when she growls.

“She’s hungry,” Gert explains just as her own stomach rumbles.

Chase laughs. “Looks like she’s not the only one.”

Gert elbows him while he laughs. He tightens her hold on her. Old Lace growls again, and Gert sighs.

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” she says, disentangling herself from Chase and putting her glasses on.

Chase stares at her as she gets up and puts some shoes on.

“Chase, stop,” Gert says.

“Sorry,” he says, offering her a small smile. “And thank you,” he adds. “For letting me crash here last night.”

“Of course. Our situation isn’t ideal, I’m sure we all have nightmares. I’m glad I could help,”

“Right,” he says.

Gert gives him one last look before leaving the room, Old Lace behind her. Chase lies back down in the bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s been a while since he’s felt so at peace, and he wants to prolong that feeling for a little longer. Of course, he was naive to think that would last.

The door opens abruptly and Karolina barges into the room.

“Hey Gert, Alex is thinking on getting some groceries and he wants to-” Karolina stops when she sees Chase, who sits abruptly when the door opens. “You’re not Gert,” she says.

“Yeah, she’s feeding Old Lace,” he explains, scratching the back of his neck.

Karolina smirks at him. “I understand now why you were so adamant on Gert taking this room,” she teases him.

“Shut up, Karolina,” he says, finally pulling the covers off him and getting up. He figures he should go do something productive, like making the place more livable.

Karolina is about to leave when he talks.

“Can you not tell anyone about this?” he asks. “Gert and I haven’t really talked about it and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable,” he tells her.

Karolina nods. “Of course, Chase, although you guys should really talk,”

“I know,” Chase admits, defeatedly.

“I hope you know that whatever is going on between you guys, we’re gonna support it. You both deserve some happiness, especially in the middle of this mess,” she says, her face softening at the end.

Chase nods, leaving Gert’s room and heading to his own to change his clothes. Karolina was right, he knew that he and Gert needed to talk. Eventually. But first, they needed to work on fixing the hostel, and maybe thinking on a long-term plan.

///

A/N: I’m not very satisfied with the ending, but I felt I just needed to post it. I might do a second part later. Thanks for reading it!

#asks #gertchase #gertchase fic #Gert x Chase #my fics #runaways fic #Gert Yorkes #Chase Stein #my writing

[firemedicdiaz]

The Long Kiss Goodbye

Fandom: Star Trek AOS. Pairing: Leonard McCoy X Reader. Prompt: Soulmate AU where a person’s scars disappear when their soulmate kisses them away. Word Count: 2872. Warnings: injury, bleeding. Rating: Teen+. Genre: fluff. Summary: When Leonard McCoy had kissed you goodnight, you’d never in your wildest dreams imagined that you’d found your soulmate. Author’s Note: Oh look, I wrote more fluff.  It’s almost like I’ve pigeonholed myself as a fluff writer…

You’re bursting with joy on the inside, and it’s reflected by a radiant smile on the outside as you sweep across the dance floor in the arms of the Enterprise’s chief medical officer.  

Before tonight’s festivities you would never have guessed that Leonard was a dancer.  In fact, you’d been flat-out shocked when he’d approached you where you were standing with a few other crew members on the outskirts of the dance floor at Starfleet’s annual Founders’ Gala.  Until he’d spoken to you, you’d had no idea he was even aware of your existence, let alone that he knew your name.  You’d happily accepted the dance, though, and several had come between that first one and the current one.

Now, over an hour later, your feet are sore and you feel like your heart is going to splinter apart at the seams from the thrill of spending a rather intimate evening with the handsome doctor, but you dare not complain.  You simply let yourself be guided around the room and shown a great time.

The night winds down after a while, and when the two of you finally stop dancing, you notice Dr. McCoy’s hands lingering at your waist and palm.  The heat of his touch radiates through the layers of your dress uniform and you feel it spreading through your body as he stays close in the wake of the music.

“Looks like the party’s dying down,” he says softly.  “Would you like another dance, or are you going to call it quits?”

You nod in response, reluctantly slipping your one hand from his to step back a little.

“I should get going,” you reply.  “I’m due back on the Enterprise first thing tomorrow.”

Leonard smiles and nods, letting go of you at last but holding a hand out.

“Would you like an escort up to your quarters?”  He asks. “You never know what’s lurking in the dark out there.”

You laugh and agree with another nod, taking his proffered hand and giving it a grateful squeeze.

“I would love that,” you say brightly.

He gestures toward the double doors at the back of the hall.

“Lead the way, Lieutenant Y/L/N,” he says politely.

You glance over at him as the two of you stride off toward the doors at a leisurely pace.

“Please, call me Y/N,” you insist.

“Y/N it is,” he agrees.  “Then you can call me Leonard.”

The two of you leave the hall hand in hand and you take a slow, deep breath of cool evening air as it wraps around you.  Your uniform jacket wards off the chill but you lean into Leonard’s warmth regardless, glad for the excuse for the proximity.  The walk to your temporary quarters isn’t a long one, and so you drink in as much of him as you can for as long as you’re able.

A few minutes later, the two of you stop in front of your door and you smile softly.

“Well, this is me,” you say.  “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Leonard.”

The name is still foreign on your tongue, but the smile it draws from him is heartwarming and beautiful.

“It was my pleasure, sugar,” he insists.

You watch as he dips his head as he brings your hand up to his mouth, brushing a gentle kiss over your knuckles. It’s barely a brush of his lips, but it’s enough to make your heart go wild in your chest.  You feel your cheeks heat at his attentions and you wave in what you hope isn’t too awkward a way as he lets go of your hand.

“Goodnight,” you say brightly as you swipe your ID card against the keypad beside your door and slide it open.

“Goodnight,” Leonard echoes with a wink before turning and making his way to his own quarters.

You watch him go until he rounds a corner at the end of the hall and then promptly lock yourself in your quarters, squealing in delight.  You’re still riding the high as you strip out of your dress uniform and get ready for bed. You know that once you’re back on the ship things will undoubtedly go back to being business as usual for you, but in the meantime you plan on capitalizing on every second of wakefulness and spend that time burning the evening’s events into your memory.

The next morning you find yourself still smiling softly as you board the shuttle that will take you back to the Enterprise.  You fulfill your duties on board with a renewed zest for life and even your fellow crew members notice the change in your disposition.

“You look like the cat that caught the canary,” Scotty says pointedly as he stands over you while you work on some circuitry under a console.

“Can’t a person ever just have a good day?”  You ask with feigned reproach.

“Och, alright,” Scotty gives in.  “I’ll leave you be, then.”

You laugh as he stalks away to get back to his own duties, redoubling your efforts so that you can finish up sooner.

The rest of the day passes by without incident and so does the next, and the one after that.  It’s on the day that the Enterprise finally launches back off on another mission that you break your happy-go-lucky streak.  

As you’re working on a plasma conduit in one of the ship’s many Jefferies tubes, your wrench slips and you catch your hand on an exposed piece of metal.  It’s lethally sharp and you can feel the blood dripping down your fingers as you grasp at thin air, your wrench already having fallen too far.

Bringing your hand up, you wrap a spare rag from your tool kit around it with a hiss, pointing your head lamp down so you can get a better look at the wound.  You carefully peel the cloth away with a wince, thanking the stars that at least the scar the injury will leave behind will fit in with all of the others on your knuckles from years in engineering.  As you flash your light on your knuckles, however, you’re confused by the sudden and conspicuous complete lack of the scars that have been there for most of your adult life.

“What the hell?”  You breathe.

You wrack your brain for possible explanations and you gasp as you realize what’s happened.

“No way,” you whisper.

You think back to the night of the gala, to the sweet farewell Leonard had given you as he’d dropped you off at your temporary quarters.  He’d kissed your hand in the same spot all of your old scars had disappeared from.

Frantically wrapping your bleeding fingers back up, you glance at your other hand instead, finding all of your usual scars there still present and accounted for.  Panicking a little, you don’t even realize you’ve made a noise of distress until you hear an echoing call from elsewhere in the same Jefferies tube.

“Are you alright?”  Scotty’s voice booms around you.

“Yeah,” you call back shakily.  “I think I should get down to sick bay, though…”

You hear scrabbling and scraping and moments later, Scotty’s head is sticking out from the horizontal tube running perpendicular to yours.  He spies the bloodied rag wrapped around your injured hand and nods.

“Can you make it on your own?”  He asks.

You nod uneasily and take a deep breath to steel yourself for the journey.

“Take it easy,” Scotty tells you softly. “And take as long as you need.”

You smile at him weakly and pack up your tool kit as he disappears back into the tube to continue his own work. Climbing down the ladder carefully, you find an exit and step out conveniently close to the med bay.  You make the short trip down the rest of the hall and walk into the medical wing, glancing at the nurse behind the desk and holding up your wrapped hand.

“Have a seat right over there,” she says, gesturing to an empty bio bed a short hop away.  “Dr. McCoy will be right with you.”

Your anxiety crescendos at the sound of his name and you numbly do as you’re told.  Climbing onto the bio bed, you hang your head and stare unseeingly at the slowly reddening towel around your hand, wondering just how in the world you’re going to break the news to the doctor.  You’ve always dreamed of meeting your soulmate, but for some reason you’d always envisioned the realization being a mutual one.  You’d never once considered that the task of opening the dialogue might fall to you.

“Y/N!”  Dr. McCoy’s voice penetrates your thoughts, bringing your head snapping up.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You lift up your bloodied arm, smiling wryly up at him, feeling a wave of nausea wash over you from the combined blood loss and anxiety.

“Oh, you know, I just missed you is all,” you joke weakly.  “Thought I’d come by and say hi.”

You can tell that Leonard knows something is off by the way his expression turns serious as he studies you. He reaches out and gently puts a hand on your shoulder, applying a bit of pressure to encourage you to lie down. You do as you’re directed and stare up at the bolts in the ceiling while the doctor goes to get a start on your assessment.

“I’m going to give you something for the pain,” Dr. McCoy informs you.  “If you’re anxious, I can give you a little something to help with that, too.”

You almost say yes, but hesitate at the last moment.

“No, thank you,” you grind out.  “I’m okay.”

He nods as he preps the analgesic hypo.

“If at any time that changes, you let me know,” he instructs you.  “Little pinch here.”

You barely even feel the bite of the hypospray but you feel its effects very quickly.  The pain in your hand dulls to a throb and then recedes entirely as the medication makes its way through your system, and by the time Leonard unwraps the rag from around your hand, you can’t feel a thing.

“You really did a number on yourself here,” he says from his spot at your side, glancing up at you briefly.  “This is going to need a deep closure before I run the dermal regenerator over it.  You’re going to be here for a little while.”

“Not a problem,” you say with a sigh. “Scotty’s got me covered.”

Leonard nods and flags down one of his nurses to assist in the procedure.  They work together seamlessly to set up their equipment and put a layer of stitches in at the very base of the wound over where you’d cut into muscle. All the while, you’re preoccupied with thoughts of the conversation you know you’re going to have to have some time very soon.

“How’re you doing up there?”  Dr. McCoy asks as he puts the finishing touches on the stitches.  “Still with us?”

“Yes sir,” you reply.

“Well, we’ll be done here in just a second and then we’ll get your hand in the regenerator,” he explains.  “You’ll be good to go in another half hour or so.”

You make a non-committal noise of acknowledgment and get back to your fretting as he and the nurse finish up working on your wound.  Minutes later, your hand is resting at your side as the doctor carefully runs the dermal regenerator over it in precise, controlled sweeps.  The warmth and tingling the instrument causes as it works offer a welcome distraction from your thoughts and you focus on the sensations as time ticks by.

The treatment is over all too soon and you’re chewing the inside of your lip as Dr. McCoy offers you a hand up. The world spins a little as you sit upright and you sag forward.  Leonard catches you with a hand on either of your shoulders and leans in closer to meet your unfocused gaze.

“Alright, sugar?”  He asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.  “I’m fine, just a dizzy spell.  I’m okay.”

He looks unconvinced but he lets go of you anyway, moving to grab the dressing supplies as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.  The wound is well healed after the dermal regeneration, but it’s still somewhat raw and so you let him get a start on covering it up for the remainder of the healing period.

“You know, you’re not like the other engineers,” he comments as he carefully wraps a length of gauze around your hand to hold the dressing in place.  “You’ve got a lot fewer scars on your hands than I’m used to seeing on people in your line of work.”

Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest and it doesn’t escape Leonard’s notice as the bio bed sounds a couple of chirps in response to your fluctuating vital signs.  

“That’s not entirely accurate,” you say lightly, your mouth suddenly dry.

The doctor glances up at you, his eyes scanning your expression.

“What do you mean?”  He asks.

You sigh shakily and hold up your uninjured hand with its latticework of small scars all over your knuckles.  He examines it closely, reaching up as he finishes your dressing to gently run his fingertips over the marks, undoubtedly comparing the skin there to the skin on your other hand.

“Does one hand have all the bad luck?” He jokes.

You shake your head.

“The other one looked like this, too,” you explain slowly.  “All until a few days ago…”

Leonard considers you with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You’ve met your soulmate?”  He asks with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It appears so,” you reply, hoping he’ll figure it out on his own.

“Congratulations,” he says softly. “I’m sure you two are perfect for each other.”

“I hope so,” you continue.  “I haven’t gotten to spend more than a couple of hours with him so far, but I have high hopes.  Our first date of sorts was pretty romantic.”

You can practically see the wheels in his head turning as he puts all of the pieces together.  When his eyes widen a fraction, you know he’s met with the possibility that he’s your soulmate and when he clearly starts to flounder in wondering whether he should ask, you decide to save him the trouble.

“It was you,” you say, suddenly shy. “When you kissed me goodnight. You made those scars disappear.”

Leonard is quiet for a long moment.

“When did you figure it out?”  He asks.

“Right after I cut myself,” you reply. “I’m so used to having scars all down my knuckles that I noticed the second I stopped to look at them.”

Leonard nods and smiles kindly, reaching out to take both of your hands in his.  You curl your fingers around his and watch him as he inspects the knuckles on both hands again before looking up at you.

“Scarred or not, I think your hands are beautiful,” Leonard says softly.  “Just like the rest of you.  You looked like an angel in the ballroom that night, and I couldn’t believe the good fortune I had when you said yes to a dance.”

You feel your face heat and you avert your gaze for a few moments to collect your thoughts.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about those dances,” you admit.

“I hope you weren’t so lost in thought that you injured yourself today,” Leonard says in concern.

You laugh at his worry and shake your head, squeezing his hands.

“Not at all,” you say emphatically. “That was because I’m clumsy as hell. That’s really how I’ve amassed so many scars over the years.  Occupational hazards are one thing, but I’ve been collecting these marks my whole life, and my hands aren’t the only things that have suffered.”

“Well, I’d like to go through and catalogue every one of your scars some day,” Leonard says softly, letting go of one of your hands so he can nudge your chin up to get you to look at him again. “Just so I can have an itemized list for if you ever want me to kiss any more of them away.”

You feel almost dizzy with giddiness at his words and you nod in agreement as you shift around to slip off of the bio bed.

“How about we start slow?”  You suggest.  “Dinner in my quarters after Alpha?”

He steps aside to let you pass as you move to leave med bay and you glance over your shoulder as you wait for a response.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says warmly.

You grin in acknowledgement and wave over your shoulder as you make your way back to engineering.  The grin that won’t leave your lips draws a few curious glances as you get back to your duties but thankfully no one asks what’s got you looking like you’re won the lottery.

The rest of the day goes by in a flash and you walk with a spring in your step as you make your way to your quarters, excited to start the next chapter of your life with your soulmate by your side at last.

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[ec-sanderssides]

Touch-Starved II

So this got long. Prince kind of came in and stole the show, and then I realized that I had a whole to go before I reached the end. I hope you like it. Especially since there’ somehow 600 of you now, and that’s terrifying. So yeah, really hope this turned out all right. Also @slutsanders, tumblr is not letting me tag you for some reason. So if someone else could tag them that would be great. And please let me know if you want to try and tag you on the later parts as well. Anyway Part I is here. Part III Part IV

Anxiety was hiding.

He had been for the past three days. He’d been living off tap water and the granola bars he kept in his room, but unfortunately those hadn’t lasted very long, and now he was hungry. But if he wanted to get food, he’d have to go to the kitchen, where he might see the others.

Anxiety knew he couldn’t avoid them forever, but he didn’t know how to face them. Didn’t know how to face their newfound pity. Anxiety could admit it, he was scared. He’d gotten used to being alone, to being overlooked, and now that was changing.

Part of him wanted to be hopeful, to think that maybe this was a good thing. But mostly he was just scared. What if he got used to the attention and then once they deemed him “fixed enough” they left him alone again? Or worse what if trying to spend time with them made them realize why they were better off without him?

Anxiety curled up tighter on his bed. He wished he’d never said anything.Then nothing would have changed. It wasn’t like he needed physical contact anyway. Logic was wrong.

His stomach growled, and he cringed. While he may not have needed physical contact, he did need food. He glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight. The others were probably asleep. Maybe if he went now, he could grab some food and make it back without seeing anyone.

As his stomach growled again, Anxiety made up his mind. It was worth a shot. Carefully and quietly, he crept out of his room, cringing at the slight creaking of the door. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he made his way to the kitchen.

Not wanting to risk turning on the light, he began to grope around in the dark. He pulled more granola bars out of the pantry, as well as a loaf of bread, and a box of crackers. Setting them on the counter, he then moved to the fridge, hoping to at least grab some fruit.

But when he opened the fridge, he was stunned. Sitting on the middle shelf was a foil-covered plate with a note reading For Anxiety on top of it in Morality’s handwriting. He pulled it out, staring at it in disbelief.

Morality had left this, for him? Even though he didn’t know if Anxiety would even see it? Had he been doing this every night?

“You should eat that,” a voice remarked from behind. “Morality will be thrilled.”

Startled at the unexpected noise, Anxiety’s hands fumbled with the plate, and dropped it. It fell to the ground and shattered, the ceramic shards now scattered around his bare feet. He hissed in pain as some of them cut into his skin.

“Woah, easy there” the voice spoke up again. It was Prince.

A hand reached out to grab his shoulder, but Anxiety shrugged it away. He didn’t need this.

“I’m just trying to help,” Prince said exasperatedly, “Hold on, I’ll get the light.”

After a few moments and the sound of shuffling, Anxiety screwed his eyes shut at the sudden brightness as the lights flickered on.

“Well that looks bad,” Prince remarked, staring at Anxiety’s feet.

“No shit,” Anxiety muttered, staring at the ground.

Prince approached him cautiously. “Don’t freak out,” he told him.

“Why would I freak-“

But before Anxiety could finish asking his question. Prince’s hands were on his waist, swinging him up and over, depositing him on the counter. As soon as the hands loosened their grip, he jerked back, glaring at Prince.

Prince looked unrepentant.

“I needed to get you out of the way to clean this up,” he explained, “And I didn’t want to risk you stepping on any of it.”

Anxiety supposed he could see the sense in that. Grudgingly. He stayed still on the counter as Prince fetched a broom and pan and began sweeping up the mess. From the looks of it, Morality had made him chicken and peas. Anxiety regretted dropping the plate.

Once the mess had been swept up and thrown away, Prince turned back to Anxiety.

“Alright, Black Veil Bride,” he said, “Let’s get those cuts cleaned up.”

“I can do it myself,” Anxiety snapped, eager for this encounter to end.

Prince didn’t look impressed. “I’m sure,” he replied sarcastically, “But I have more experience treating injuries than you, and besides, it is somewhat my fault that you obtained them. Now hold still.”

Running a washcloth under some water, and grabbing a med kit from under the sink, Prince approached, picking up Anxiety’s right foot. Anxiety resisted the urge to squirm in discomfort. He was all to aware of Prince’s closeness, all too aware that this surge of concern was only motivated by pity.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Like in his last conversation with Logic, he felt almost frozen in place, staring as Prince gently wiped away the blood.

“These aren’t as bad as they looked,” Prince murmured. “They’re actually quite shallow. I’ll finish cleaning them out and then put some bandages on them.”

Anxiety had only meant to say sure, but what came out of his mouth was, “Why do you care?”

Prince looked up, frowning. “I know we don’t always get along,” he said, “But that doesn’t mean I’d leave you here bleeding.”

“Not- not just this,” Anxiety said, feeling as though the words were bubbling out of him with little conscious thought. “This whole thing, the whole touch thing. Why do you care? It’s not like it matters”

Prince’s grip on his foot tightened, before he let out a long slow breath.

“You know how I’ve rescued maidens from towers in the past?” he asked, seemingly quite randomly.

“Yeah?” Anxiety drawled, not sure where this was going.

“Do you know what they said the worst part of being in those towers was,” Prince said, now looking much more solemn than Anxiety was used to seeing him. “They said the worst part was the loneliness. The way they felt isolated from anyone and everyone. I remember one girl refused to let go of me for some hours, because she was afraid I’d turn out not to be real if she let go.”

“Okay, what does this have to do with me,” Anxiety asked, feeling slightly uneasy.

“Anxiety, you weren’t locked in a tower, but we did leave you alone,” Prince said softly. “We shouldn’t have. I, at least, should have known better. We may argue, but you’re still part of this family, you’re still under my protection. And I failed you. Please let me make it up.”

Anxiety could only stare. Prince looked genuinely remorseful. And pleading. His eyes begged Anxiety to say yes.

He didn’t need help though, really, no matter what Prince might think. But as he opened his mouth to tell him that, Anxiety couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead he just muttered, “Just finish bandaging my feet, I want to go to bed.”

“Of course,” Prince said, his eyes still watching Anxiety. “I’ll do that now.”

Sitting in uncomfortable silence, Anxiety watched as Prince cleaned and bandaged his feet. He was being surprisingly gentle, and Anxiety didn’t know what to make of it.

When he had finished, Prince stepped back. “There,” he said, “All done. You can go back to bed now. Although,” and here he hesitated, “It might still hurt a little to walk. I could- I could carry you if you like?”

“I can walk,” Anxiety snapped, but on seeing Prince recoil, he relented slightly.

“It’s not that bad,” he insisted, looking away. And then more quietly, forcing out the words. “But thanks for offering I guess.”

Prince smiled at him. “It’s no trouble,” he replied. “I’ll let you make your way back to your room now. Hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow? It’s not the same, having no one to banter with.”

Anxiety groaned internally. He’d really be an asshole if he said no. He supposed he could make an appearance. “Yeah, I guess,” he said, hopping off the counter, suppressing a wince. Okay, that actually did sting a little.

“I’m glad,” Prince said, now looking much more cheerful. “Well then, good night, Anxiety.”

With his last words, he reached out to give a quick squeeze of Anxiety’s shoulder before drawing back, almost too quick for Anxiety to react.

“Night” Anxiety replied, aware that his face was tinted red. He was so tired of this bullshit.

He trudged back towards his room. But despite his wish to just go to sleep and forget everything, Prince’s words kept floating through his mind.

The worst part was the loneliness. You’re still part of this family.

Anxiety groaned, he still couldn’t believe how guilty Prince had sounded. And Logic had sounded the same when he’d last talked to him. He just didn’t get it. But they were so determined. It was ridiculous.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, reluctantly, I can indulge them a little. For their sake, not mine. Just enough so they wouldn’t feel so freaking guilty. Then everything would go back to normal.

Anxiety rolled over. He’d deal with this in the morning.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #touch-starved #fanfic #my fic #I really hope this is okay #I'm so nervous #touch-starved has been my most popular fic #so I'm really worried this doesn't live up to it #@slutsanders

[i-hope-youre-hopeful]

Everything is a mess

I don’t think this will help but I’ll say it all anyway. I have feelings for a high schooler that I can’t get past and that’s not the weirdest thing to happen to me this week. It was rough being around him all week. And it’s not over. Literally everything reminds me of him. I saw him from a distance and felt my heart flutter and then I felt some weird protective response and I wanted to protect him?? From myself?? Like what the hell is that I cannot be his friend and his mother and have a crush on him at the same time it doesn’t work like that and I feel disgusting. I can’t help it!! He’s just... idk intelligent and sweet and silly and I don’t know why this happened okay I can’t help it and I just have to make sure no one ever knows eSPECIALLY HIM. He’s such a sweetheart and he’s so little and pure and I just want to hear him laugh every day forever and I get a lump in my throat every time he smiles but seriously I’ll get over it I just need time and it’s gonna hurt more before it feels better. Gosh I’m glad you can’t be arrested for feelings. In other news I had a baby crush on a girl in my English class so that’s yet another thing to feel ashamed about!! Woo!! I feel like I was accidentally being really weird about it too bc I always laughed whenever she said something and like responded to things that don’t require responses and I’m like oop sorry the gay hopped out!! Idk in all honesty I’m probably completely straight I just want to feel unique or part of this whole messed up movement or something. Dan Howell is gay. He and Phil are happy together and that makes me happy but what a fucking bizarre timeline to be living in I literally can’t wrap my head around the fact that the crazy Phan shippers have been right all these years like?? Am I off my meds or something? And Harry Styles is “”queer””” and like don’t get me wrong love that #representation but all my teenage years are apparently a lie?? It just feels so weird like I’ve had this picture of people in my head all this time and to find out its so deeply wrong is so startling and it just feels wrong somehow. Sydney apparently does not work but I thought she did and now I don’t know what to do I just feel like everything I do is only out of stress and obligation and I’m freaking tf out I am always full of anxiety and I can’t f cking cope with it ohmy gos h. I hate that I can’t fjkng cope and everyday life is just OVERWHELMING I just feel like I’m drowning in stuff all of the time like is it always gonna be like this?? Fuck me I have so much to do and no time to do it in. I woke up at 1 am and it feels like the middle of the day except my current routine says it should be the middle of the night but it’s ACTUALLY MORNING?? I FEEL SCARED AND HORRIBLE AND DISSOCIATED AND IM SICK OF FEELING LIKE THIS. I AM A MESS SOMEBODY HELP ME. Living here is such a sickness sometimes. I feel like the squad was an old time of my life that has passed away even tho I just saw them like last week and I don’t want to go back bc I started to become dependent on them and stressed out about not being around them and I know if I go back I’m gonna start using them to cope and I don’t want that at all I feel so bad about that but coping isnall I can do anymore!! I can’t do anything else it’s just completing the bare minimum and then surviving and that’s not gonna be enough for this English class and I’m gonna fail and my teacher’s gonna be mad at me and my parents will be disappointed and it’ll fuck up my GPA and I won’t get into whatever school I probably won’t even try to get into anyway bc I’m too afraid of failure to try anything but I wish I had taken my ACT and thrived more in high school and pushed getting a physical copy of my diploma and I just wish a lot of things I wish I didn’t live here I wish I had my own space and a job and supported myself and didn’t feel like garbage all the time and wasn’t falling apart and God help me I’m so so sorry I just can’t think straight. Oh also Kyle Hiroshi Fawcett told me out of LITERAL NOWHWRE that he had a crush on me which is a pretty shit thing to do since

He literally has a WHOLE GIRLFRIEND LIKE WHAT DO I DO WITH THAT. LIKE what a roller coaster. I had a crush on him but he’s a sad boy and I don’t fuck wit sad boys my life is too sad anyway also his facial hair is GROSS and he’s got way too much emotional baggage for me to handle and he doesn’t have my sense of humor so CANCELED but he’s so cute and he plays bass and he’s Japanese and I love that I always wanted his attention so bad when I was a lil bit younger like WHERE WERE YOU THEN BITCH NOT HERE but now I’m older and you have a WHOLE girlfriend like I’m still sO confused I hate boys. It’s flattering tho. I just wanna be touched and held and kissed but unFORTUNATELY EVERY BOY SUCKS. I kind of miss Justin but not really. I kind of miss all of them but not really. I feel like I escaped that obession and I don’t want to go back. I just want attention. But only from select people. Also are Justin and Rachel dating or not like what’s going on with that?? Are they just fucking?? Are they just friends I literally can’t tell but it makes me mad bc I’m like no!!! I’m too invested in y’all for you to date but I WANT JUSTINS ATTENTION so Rachel can’t have it even tho I don’t actually want to date Justin Rachel just can’t either bc I’m a selfish ass bitch oops!