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possibilistfanfiction · 3 months

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Surgeons au: "please take a break"

[idk where this started & idk where this went but boy is it soft lol]

beatrice is exhausted.

you get home — to her house, but you have a key and most of your things have migrated over steadily: a drawer for your underwear; your favorite coffee roast in the cabinet; your spare cane in the corner of the bedroom; the garden you’d planted and tended in the back yard in full bloom now — and see her slumped over, her head in her hands, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. it’s been like this for days, since she lost a patient from a routine surgery that went badly and then went worse than badly. it wasn’t her fault, not at all, but beatrice, you’ve found, despite her reticence and calm, is a person who feels everything deeply. for all of your differences, you think this is maybe the similarity that makes the most sense to you, the one that lets you navigate what she needs when things are too big and too near and impossibly sad.

she lifts her head, a blush rising to her cheeks, when you come in from the garage. ‘oh,’ she says, like she lost track of time; she probably did.

‘hello to you too.’

she smiles apologetically. ‘hello, darling.’

you toss your tote on the couch; on a normal day, when things aren’t so heavy, this would make her sigh in fond exasperation, but now she just waits, still, for you to slip your shoes off and pad over to her.

‘i’m all sweaty,’ she says, holding up a hand before you can hug her. you glance down and see that she’s still in a pair of her climbing pants and an old hoodie, her hands still slightly dusty with chalk.

‘you went to the gym?’

she nods, and you spare her the lecture of why it’s a bad idea to go bouldering after a marathon shift, especially when she hasn’t been sleeping even on her days off.

‘i just needed something else to think about, to — to feel with my hands.’

you’re, like, the most mature person in the world now, basically, because you read the room and refrain from making one of many of the dirty jokes that immediately pop into your head. it’s too easy anyway. ‘are you feeling better?’

she sighs, slumps even further onto the stool. ‘i’m feeling tired.’

‘yeah, i bet you are.’ you don’t care about her being sweaty, don’t care about any of it, really, but how to possibly comfort her. you rub your hand along her back, her perfect, strong spine, her exacting, taut muscles, the grief wedged between them all.

‘i have to read dr. adebeyo’s new research article, and review for my septal myectomy on thursday, and —‘

‘you’re not at work right now, babe.’

‘i can’t think of anything else.’

you don’t often ask things of her, mostly because she offers so much so readily but also because asking is still hard for you, impossible some days. but you’re working on it and, besides, this is for her: ‘please, please take a break.’ what happened wasn’t your fault, you want to say, but it would be too much and you get the feeling that she still isn’t quite ready to hear it yet.

she leans into your side then, a little awkward but bone-weary and still, you can tell, in love. it’s scared you for so long, what it’s like to be adored by someone, to be valued and admired; it’s the most terrifying thing you’ve ever felt in your life, worse than your accident and the scars along your back and the hollow of your throat and all the surgeries to follow, worse than the horribly hopeful future spread out in front of you when you got accepted to work with jillian, worse than when you matched with your dream program. beatrice simply is — in love with you, loving you — and, finally, finally, you’re starting to trust it.

‘you need a haircut,’ you say after a while — beatrice usually buzzes her hair every week, neatly and like clockwork, because ‘it’s easy, and, so i’ve been told at least, that it looks good,’ she’d told you, to which you’d rolled your eyes but had no argument against — and she snorts a laugh from where she’s pressed her face into your arm. it’s amused and exhausted, all at once. ‘i can do it, if you’d like.’

she waits for a moment, considers it. there’s the intimacy you’re familiar with: how warm her center is with your fingers curling inside, the way her mouth feels when you’re about to come. the way your body was able to feel during sex was the wildest, most heartbreaking discovery for you at first, but you settled into it with joy after a while. after chanel had very seriously given you a lecture your second week of college on how to be safe, it was fun and light and never so serious. with beatrice, it’s easy intimacy: you know that kissing her pulse point makes her arch her back and beg, that you know how to be kind, even when rough, every single time.

the intimacies of life, though, are where you sometimes both get stuck, the smallest parts of you that had hurt the most, that had had to heal so slowly, that you hold so tight to your chest. you hate playing all your cards, and you’re certain she does too: to be cared for can feel suffocating, in the wrong circumstances. to be cared for, though, you’ve discovered a few weeks ago when she brought you a heating pad and picked up the new pain medication your neurologist wanted you to try, in the right hands, in beatrice’s hands, is a miracle.

beatrice looks up at you, the question clear: you would do that for me?

you smile softly, lean down to kiss her like things are easy, like things are good. in so many ways, in the ways that sit in the marrow of your bones, they are.

she smiles back, finally, eyes brightening, unfurling after days trying to hide in the dark. ‘you think you can manage it?’

you nod. ‘you can trust me.’ it comes out so sincere, despite the fact that you add in a wink to try to dissipate it.

she straightens up, then, and squeezes your hand. ‘thank you, ava.’

you tell her, ‘of course,’ because, of course.

‘you know,’ she says a few minutes later, sitting on a kitchen chair in the big primary bathroom, her shirt discarded in the hamper in your room, ‘i’ve never let anyone do this for me before.’

‘really?’

‘yes.’ she’s quiet for a moment, the buzz from her clippers, with the guard she’d precisely put on, the only noise as you run them along her scalp. ‘well, it’s fairly simple, for one.’

you hum. ‘and for two?’

she rolls her eyes, shrugs, blushes. you love her. ‘i didn’t…’ she pauses, tries again, ‘it’s close.’

‘yeah.’

she meets your eyes in the mirror, quiet. you know from what she’s told you about her past, when she was younger, when she knew who she was but was made to feel scared and so ashamed : the tears and the heartache and how much she thought her life wasn’t worth anything, the heaviness that sits around her like a soft cloak sometimes, even still. but, right now, you see her, and you care for her, exactly as she is. it’s different than anything you’ve ever had before, more than you could’ve convinced yourself to want: she’s going to stay. she wants to stay.

a smile grows on her face and it’s like the whole world lightens. ‘lilith thought i was having a breakdown, the first time.’

you laugh, go over the spiraling, small cowlick a few more times so it’s all even. ‘was she maybe a little bit right?’

she hums. ‘a little, perhaps. but i’d been curious for a long time, and i knew — it would feel right. i knew it.’

you resist the urge to kiss the top of her head, one of your favorite activities, only just avoiding it when you brush all the little hairs from her bare shoulders and some of them stick to your hand. ‘well, it suits you. i mean, i think anything would suit you, probably, but i get it.’

her smile softens, just for you. ‘plus, my mother almost fainted the first time i went home for the holidays. worth its weight in gold, honestly, for both me and lil.’

it’s rare beatrice mentions her parents, especially in a way that encourages a little laugh to bubble out of her chest. you grin. ‘i would’ve paid to see that.’

she fiddles with her watch band, one of her only nervous tells, and then sighs. ‘well, they’re visiting in a few weeks, after my boards.’

you take the guard off and tilt her head forward slightly so you can clean up her neckline. it gives her time to take a deep breath, and for you to calm your nerves. ‘oh. how do you feel about that?’

‘i mean, well, it’s fine. i suppose this is the sort of things parents would be proud of.’

‘any sane parent would be, like, bursting at the seams proud of you. i need you to know that.’

‘i —‘ she pauses, puzzles through it. ‘i do, for the most part. when they’re a continent away, it’s different. easier.’

‘for sure.’ you walk around in front of her and brush hair off of her forehead, the tip of her nose which she scrunches up. you’d told a patient the other day, scared and hurting, that dr. choi was the best, and, in all the ways that matter — her steady hands and kind hugs and the stretch of freckles across her cheeks — you had meant it.

‘do you — would you like to meet them?’

you’d like to fucking punch them, but — ‘do you want me to meet them?’

‘yes,’ she says, certain and stoic. ‘you’re my partner, and we live together, and i’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.’

there’s such tenderness, such assuredness, the rain calming and her strong shoulders and the smile you feel on your face. it’s quiet, now, the clippers turned off and sitting on the counter. ‘we live together?’

‘that’s what you got from that?’

you shrug.

she takes your hand, laces your fingers together. ‘your lease is up next month, right?’

‘yeah.’

‘i can’t remember the last time you didn’t spend the night here, and i certainly can’t remember the last time i didn’t want you to.’

‘you’re full of big declarations today.’ it’s ineffective, because your laugh comes out as mostly a snot-filled snuffle when tears press at your eyes. you’ve never, really, had a home before.

beatrice just squeezes your hand.

‘you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with me?’

‘ah, there we go.’

‘you do know that i’m, like, a whole lot.’

‘yes,’ she says. ‘and i love you.’

just like that. just like that, and it’s so easy. ‘i love you too.’ you wipe under your eyes, grimace for a moment when stray hairs get stuck on your cheeks, but you let out a big breath. ‘i can’t promise i won’t at least tell your parents off.’

‘if they say anything that warrants that, i’m fine with you causing a scene if you’d like. shannon loves to, so she’ll have fun.’

‘i think that might be too much of an opening for me, honestly. i’ve been waiting to yell at them since like, two hours after i met you.’

‘there’s no way you knew after two hours on my service.’

‘i could sense the, like, childhood trauma, gentle, brooding, gay vibes. i’m talented that way.’

she rolls her eyes but she’s clearly so fond of you, still holding your hand. ‘well, shall i shower, and then we can order in? catch up on the traitors, maybe?’

‘god, that is my love language. for real, bea.’

‘would you like to shower with me?’

‘okay, i take it back. that is my love language.’

she laughs, and stands, and you clean up and get in the shower and kiss her. you don’t do anything more, not tonight, not when things are still the raw end of a live nerve wire, hurt dissipating near the surface. you cuddle on the couch and steal bites of her biryani and she falls asleep, warm and soft, her head resting on your chest while you scratch her scalp. you live her, for real, you think, as you pause the episode before the roundtable because she hates missing it even if she pretends to not care — asking for a full recap the next day — and then rouse her as gently as you can and lead her by the hand to bed, to rest.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch bea 🥺🫡#surgeons au #idk! the INTIMACY! mary oliver was right!#the girls who get it get it (gender expansive)

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araekniarchive · 2 years

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Maybe you made one already but i wanted to request a web on mary oliver's quote "mostly i want to be kind"

Thank you💫🌸

S. Bear Bergman, Your Faithful Servant, from Butch Is A Noun

Kaveh Akbar, Against Hell

Mary Oliver, Dogfish

@seravph, I THINK I AM GOING TO CUT MY HAIR

Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022) dirs. Daniels

Billie Letts, Where the Heart Is

@chaoticsandstorm, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it

Maria Popova, ‘Naomi Shihab Nye’s Beloved Ode to Kindness, Animated’ for The Marginalian

Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963

Patti Smith, Woolgathering

Danusha Laméris, Small Kindnesses

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vox-ex · 6 months

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seasons + stars

supercorptober 2023

“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star." ― Haruki Murakami

or Kara deals with the impermanence of herself and the permanence of her love

----

Kara comes to Earth in the Spring.

On the backs of stars she will never see again she carries their dust with her, lays it down in soil tasked with bearing witness to ghosts that are not its own.

The stars that are a part of her become a part of it.

She spends days in the forest, the bright blue sky above her, Sol at her back, Rao in her chest, through the vibrant green trees, across flowers that bloom in hues of yellows and oranges.

She lays out at night on the roof, tries to trace the inky black as far into the distance as she can. Far enough she might still see a light that hasn't been replaced by darkness yet.

The stars will soon become a part of her — she will eventually become a part of them too.

Summer comes with long days and short nights and she misses the stars.

Autumn rushes in with skies that almost feel familiar.

Winter nights are long and cold. She stays out late with the stars again. Speaks to the scattered bits of light — the scattered bits of herself.

Year after year, she is dismantled and reassembled by the seasons that come and go. Until all the bits of stardust she had carried with her from Krypton are all gone. Until she is made of new stars and new dust and new atoms. And what is gone? What is gone is put back into the space to begin again somewhere else.

But then what of her?

Is Kara Zor El somewhere in space?

Is she buried in the soil on Earth?

Is she shoved inside the chest of this other her?

Will she always be two versions different of herself at once?

Kara leaves Earth in the Spring.

Sol at her back, and nothing but darkness ahead.

She doesn't choose to leave, but she is gone all the same.

She meets ghosts she thought were all gone. Buried somewhere between Krypton and Earth — lost with the parts of herself that she too had been buried.

Her own ghost is there.

Haunts her with the parts of herself she wants to hold onto but can't.

Taunts her with the parts of herself she begs to replace but can't.

Kara comes back to Earth in the Summer.

"August of another summer, and once again I am drinking the sun"

She isn't sure what she is made of now.

Isn't sure how long it will take to shed it from her skin.

Isn't sure who she will be when it's gone.

She is just tired, she thinks, of this struggle of atoms, of time, of feeling broken apart.

But she looks up at the sky that night. Find stars again instead of darkness.

Thinks of how they are each a part of Earth, or Krypton, of her.

She is tired, she thinks, but she is also thankful.

It's Autumn when the world almost ends.

The world almost ends, and she realizes she wants more time — needs more time.

It's Autumn when it starts again.

Not in the way one thinks of worlds beginning — in the way of galaxies and of universes — big bangs expanding all at once.

But in the way we do. Slowly. Little by Little.

It begins again with green eyes and dark hair.

It settles into gentle touches and quiet words.

Kara stands at the edge of a field, her feet sinking slightly into the damp forest floor. Leaves scatter across the ground with with freshly fallen pine needles. It smells like cold, like the winter that is coming.

Lena's hand slips into hers, fingers threading together with practiced ease.

Slow.

Gentle.

She feels a droplet of water cling to her skin, just cold enough that she can feel it, can tell it a part from the warmth of Lena's hand in hers.

"I can't believe it's so dark already?"

Kara follows her gaze up to the first stars just peeking through the gaps in the trees.

Meeting Lena first came at the end of a Summer.

Meeting Lena came, and the world softened just a little — just enough.

Slowly.

Little by little.

In all the months between, all the years, all the seasons. They have both been taken apart and put back together, over and over and over.

Sometimes by the universe.

Sometimes by each other.

But amidst the endless dance of stars and the perpetual renewal of atoms, the part of them that loved the other, had always been left whole, over and over and over.

And there are still days where she is not sure who she is — who she is supposed to be with this patchwork collection of particles stuffed into herself.

But then Lena will take her hand and thread their fingers together just like this, and it will feel like each one of them has found it's place and a purpose all over again.

-----

read and follow along on Ao3 too

#supercorp #supercorptober #supergirl #supercorptober2023 #sg prompts #you know I couldn't get out of this month without writing a paradox inspired fic #ship of theseus #Also it turns out there are some atoms that are with us for our entire life #they are buried in the DNA of our heart and our brain #but also our teeth? haha #character study time #but there's love at the end I promise #there's also science #so sorry #softness disguised as heaviness #there's always room for hope at the end #love and paradoxes #science and poetry #sneak the Mary Oliver quote too

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angelmush · 5 months

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i got a goose tattooed on the inside of my forearm today and it was a flash piece but it's my favorite tattoo already it means everything to me i could sob

#i love geese so much and so deeply i named my dog after them #goose is my black dragon dog and my loyal faithful companion and my entire world #i just love these birds #they are so misunderstood as aggressive and scary when really they just are sensitive to spatial pressure #and they need a wider diameter than humans are often willing to give #but they are so beautiful i love their long graceful necks and how i can recognize their sounds anywhere #and that no matter where i live i see their little v's in the sky #and of course wild geese by mary oliver is one of the first poems i fell in love with #my english teacher deborah read it aloud to us in high school and it made me want to go outside and to stay alive #and when my gf and i first started dating i knew i loved her for lots of reasons but one of them was that she also loved geese #she told me she had a shared folder with her family members titled “geese i've seen” that she would put her goose photos in #so her entire family could witness them with her #i remember when i was sick with anorexia a few weeks before i was hospitalized a v of canadian geese flew over me on my way into work #and these big fluffy snowflakes were falling down and i could hear them calling #and it made my eyes well up #and i hoped they would get somewhere warm enough for winter #whether or not people have respect for them is a wonderful metric for gauging somebody's character #at the grocery store i worked at when i was 18 the only coworker i grew close to had a similar affinity for geese #she had a necklace of one #a little silver glinting goose in flight :'')#personal

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dayurno · 2 months

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what are ur fav useless hcs. about kevin or anyone from aftg :) like they aren’t really significant but just little things you like to think about. bc i have so many but no one ever talks about theirs and im curious if you have any!

YAY i love this question and also feel free to send me yours too i think useless hcs are really fun

i think renee is a fast and furious fan and an action movie enthusiast….. in the first kevjean fic i’ve ever written there was a scene where she sat jean down and made him watch half of the fast and furious franchise with her and he hated it so bad but he couldnt tell her that so he just sat there very awkwardly the whole time. and renee knew he hated it but she loves the damn movies so much she thought it was a worth it sacrifice. i also love a dyslexia/adhd hc for renee, i think she has a hard time in academia and has a really really really fickle attention span. if you put jean and renee in the same room they might be able to finish a short book between them but its going to take at least 8 hours because they're going to get sidetracked talking to each other about dumb stuff

ex smoker jeremy is still real and beloved in my heart... i think he quit cold turkey in his junior year and it still gets him more often than not, but he's trying and that's all that matters

neil shoplifts on instinct. doesnt even think twice of it

kevin actually HATES the gym. he will not confess to this in any way shape or form but he genuinely hates it. its so early in the morning and the movements are so repetitive and its so boring. in evermore at least there was the threat of getting beaten up if he didnt do his sets right, but in psu its just plain boring. he will still go but he will hate every second. get this man to a court now

jean is horrible with performing small actions :) i think he has big shaky hands that struggle w the minutiae of any process ever. you do NOT want to ask this man to put thread through a needle or give you an injection or pack you a bowl or even light your cigarette. the #irreversible damage of multiple head injuries

also do let me know urs cause i also love hearing about this kind of stuff! i love small hcs... save me mundane realities of life. save me characters with little details

#if you combine jeans shaky hands with the gym you get a man who almost broke kevins foot in evermore three different times bc of #dropping weights #ITS HARD OUT HERE..........................#also i think renee is such an adrenaline junkie but she knows its bad for her so she lives vicariously thru fast and furious #renee when she has a bad day: oh vin diesel we're really in it now #this is less of a tiny hc but i actually think renee is really good w being alone? i feel like shes really good at enjoying her own company #stephanie couldnt be around her all the time so she learned how to entertain herself #so i think shes one of those people that dont ever get lonely at all. she loves the world so bad and it loves her back #shes very mary oliver saying time spent alone is still time spent w the world #asks #renee #kevin #jean #neil #jeremy

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