#and i am sick and exhausted and i have to set up my wifi AND cook AND clean

[bright-and-burning]

please tell me being an adult gets easier

#day five of living on my own #and i am sick and exhausted and i have to set up my wifi AND cook AND clean #and work was like literally fine so idk why i’m also feeling deeply stressed about THAT #ok i’m definitely mostly just hungry but i still feel like having a meltdown

[cryptids-lobelia-garden]

ALRIGHTY here’s day 2! A day late bc my WiFi was absolute Garbage yesterday- it’s fixed now!

Warnings: Drugged whumpee? Sort of? (Hospital pain meds), conditioned whumpee, he is in the hospital, also he’s like. Kinda delirious I think? Idk the meds are messing with his head, also he’s Not Happy about the fact he’s on them, people being suspicious of Caretaker because of scars (whumpee sets the facts straight before anything happens though)

Day 2: Sweat Brain Fog

The Meeting Arc Part 2

~~~~~

It’s too bright.

Volo squeezes his eyes back shut the moment they open with a quiet groan.

The world feels.. weird. He feels weird.

Almost dizzy..?

Thinking feels weird too.. fuzzy..

Yeah. Fuzzy’s a good way to describe how he feels right now. And tired.

So, so very tired..

He wakes up again, squinting against the light.

Oh, I’m somewhere unfamiliar..

Where are my..

Where. Where are they. Where are my Pokémon.

He moves to try to sit up.

Oh, his head’s spinning.

His whole body feels.. heavy.. exhausted..

So exhausted..

Pokémon. Right, he needs to find his Pokémon-

There’s a tube in his arm?

Hospital?

Why am I.. What hospital am I in..

He clumsily pokes at his watch, squinting at the screen, trying to see the time, date, and location.

It’s so blurry..

Okay. Giving up on that.

“Hello?” He calls out. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

Someone pokes his head in. A nurse, probably? “Oh, you’re awake!” The nurse hurries over, gently pushing him back to the bed. “Here, lay back down.”

Each word makes his head swim. He’s tired, everything is fuzzy, and it takes him a minute to figure out what the guy said. “Mmkay.. where are my Pokémon..?”

The nurse frowns. “..There’s a guy in the lobby. He might know, but before we let you talk to him, we have some questions to ask.”

All Volo got out of that was someone’s in the lobby. Something about questions. “..who..?”

“His name is Cheri Jennings.”

Volo lets out a sigh of relief.

Okay. Cheri has his Pokémon. He doesn’t know Cheri very well, but Cheri saved him, right? And whatever Cheri wants with him, he trusts that they’ll be taken care of, for now, at least- if Cheri’s trying to gain his trust, anyway.

They’re okay..

So exhausted..

His eyes slip closed again.

Time passes for him like the blink of an eye, and when he wakes up again, someone else is in the room, checking machines by his bed. She looks over as he moves.

“Hello. Can you understand me?”

“Um..” Volo nods.

He’s a little more awake now. Everything still feels so fuzzy, though. He’s also tired, exhaustion running bone-deep, and he makes no move to get up this time. “..Where am I?”

“Okay.” The lady takes a deep breath. “..You’re in the Eterna City Hospital. You were brought here by Cheri Jennings. He said the two of you were attacked by a strange man with powerful Pokémon, is that right?”

Volo thinks for a moment. Remembering takes so much energy- but he does. “Mmh.. Yes, that’s what happened. We were.. we were fighting someone horrible, and..” He shakes his head. “..I.. got hurt..? And I remember him carrying me..” He shakes his head. “He had ice on his arm, is he okay?”

“He’s okay. ..I have another question.”

Volo nods.

“Was he the one who made the.. well.” The nurse shifts uncomfortably.

Oh. “You saw those..?” Ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach, Volo shakes his head. “N.. no, he didn’t make those.. is he here right now..?”

The nurse nods. “Yes, he’s in the lobby. ..who-”

“It doesn’t matter, but, um.. It wasn’t him, can.. Can you let him in here..? Please?”

The nurse thinks for a moment, then sighs, nodding. “I’ll bring him in.”

Volo nods, eyes slipping closed.

When they open again, Cheri’s asleep by his bed, though Cheri quickly wakes up when Volo moves.

“Hey,” he says, taking Volo’s hands in his.

Volo flinches. He can’t help it, yanking himself away from contact as if another person’s sudden touch is a hot coal.

Most people avoid touching him, pull away quickly once he flinches. But Cheri keeps his hands open.

And Volo reaches forward, letting Cheri hold his hands.

It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a comforting touch.

“..you saved my life,” he murmurs. “..why? What do you have to gain, by having this power over me?”

“What power?” Cheri shakes his head. “What are you talking about??”

“You saved my life,” Volo repeats. “So it now belongs to you.”

“..that’s.. Kinda a fucked way of thinking about it, don’t you think?” Cheri shakes his head, looking away. “Think about it as me repaying an old favor. My siblings and I would’ve been left with next to nothing if you hadn’t helped us when we were banished, you know?”

“..hm.” Volo nods, lightly squeezing Cheri’s hands. “I guess that makes sense. ..still.. Why save me? I don’t deserve it after the rift.” He shakes his head. “I hurt you, didn’t I? Are you trying to hurt me back?”

Cheri blinks a few times. “No? Why would I want that? Look, I know you’ve had it rough for a while, but I can promise you I don’t want to hurt you.” Cheri’s tongue glows as he makes the promise, and then magic wraps around the two of them.

Locking the promise in..?

..Volo looks away.

Then.. it’s true, he really DOESN’T want to hurt me.

“..why..?” Volo asks again. “I’m.. worthless now. There’s nobody left I can save, nothing else I can do to control the damage. I’ve apologized to almost everyone I can, I’ve hurt, I’ve bled, I’ve cried and I’ve broken over it, and now I’m worth nothing.” He lets his eyes slip closed, starting to feel uncomfortable with how much he’s shared, but it’s already out there, he might as well finish the thought. “There’s nothing more I can do but suffer. And I am so tired of suffering for it all. That’s selfish, I know, I don’t deserve death’s release, but I’m tired.”

Oooohhh no. Cheri’s mouth hangs open for a moment. “Volo.. what.. the hell are you talking about?”

Volo shakes his head, pulling Cheri’s hands to his face so he can hide behind them. After a moment, one of Cheri’s hands let go.

Volo’s disappointment is short lived, because Cheri’s hand is in his hair next, gently brushing his bangs back over his left eye.

Oh, right, that exists. He hadn’t even noticed it wasn’t covered. His skin feels.. odd, not very sensitive..

“..hey.. Volo? ..What are you talking about?”

Cheri’s voice is so soft. So gentle, so full of worry, of concern..

Tears start to slip down Volo’s face. “I- I can’t.”

Cheri frowns. “..Is this about Eclipse? What.. what did he do..?”

“..He hurt me,” Volo whispers, hiding behind his hands. “Very badly.”

And he was kind at first too. Held me, took care of me, and I thought he was the one person in the world who hadn’t just wanted to use me.

What a foolish thought.

..he was kind at first, just like this. He said he would protect me, and he did. Nobody else could hurt me but him- this situation feels all too familiar.

But where Eclipse had no right to do what he did..

I DID hurt Cheri and his family.

“..you can too, if that’s what you kept me alive for,” he murmurs. “You must want to, it’s the only thing that makes sense.. You were hurt by me, and now you want your turn to give me my just desserts for it.”

“…Volo… What the fuck.”

Volo peeks between his fingers after a moment- oh. Cheri looks.. genuinely horrified at that idea. “..you.. really don’t want to hurt me? Not at all?”

“Why in the ever-loving fuck would I-” Cheri pulls his hands away, taking a deep breath. Volo flinches, hiding behind his hands again.

When he looks again, Cheri’s just.. staring. There’s a lot of emotions on his face, most of all a deep sadness.

“..He really, really hurt you,” Cheri murmurs.

Volo looks away. “..I know,” he says, trying to laugh even though it isn’t funny-

He’s crying. Why is he crying?

Cheri sighs, moving closer and opening his arms.

Volo hesitates.

If I trust, I’ll only get hurt. This’ll only hurt me in the end.

But after a few moments, Volo moves to Cheri anyway, careful of the medical equipment and pushing through the spots in his vision from sitting up. He’s cautious, slow.

Cheri’s arms wrap around him, and he feels so safe, so protected, and oh, this is worth whatever pain it’ll bring him later. Hiding his face in Cheri’s chest, Volo starts to shake with silent sobs.

“He..” Cheri sighs. “He’ll never hurt you again. Okay? You’re not gonna be hurt again, not by me or anyone else. Not if I have anything to say about it,” Cheri murmurs. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

“I- I don’t de-eserve to be okay,” Volo sobs out. “I should be hurting. Why aren’t I hurting? I’m-” He pulls back, pulling at his hospital gown, seeing the bandages.

His skin feels weird, and dread starts to pool in his stomach. “I’m.. I’m hurt, why don’t I feel it, why don’t I-”

“Drugs.” Cheri doesn’t move to hold him again, though he keeps his arms open.

Oh. Oh, that explains the.. Everything.. Volo takes a moment to calm himself down.

“Hey..” Cheri moves to tap his shoulder, then thinks better of it, pulling back and making his voice slightly louder. “Hey.” After a few moments, Volo looks up again. “..What if I think you deserve to be okay?”

Volo thinks for a moment. “..You’re wrong.” He’s too tired to think of why.

Cheri shakes his head, opening his mouth to say something else, but then a nurse comes in.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be moving around so much!” Getting Volo to lay back down, the nurse looks over at Cheri. “Why didn’t you tell him to stop?”

Cheri grimaces, pushing back the immediate urge to defend himself. I’m fine, she’s not attacking me. “I didn’t know he couldn’t move. I’m just a visitor.”

“Right. Sorry.” The nurse checks a few things. “Make sure he doesn’t do that again, there’s a few reasons he shouldn’t be moving right now. We’ve tracked the attack back to a very powerful Pokémon, and honestly, he shouldn’t even be awake right now, let alone moving- he’s very lucky, he must’ve been hit with a weaker version of the attack than usual.”

Oh! That’s good news! Cheri nods. “I’ll make sure he holds still.”

“Thank you.” Finishing with her checks, she turns to hurry off. Cheri watches as she leaves, then turns back to Volo, eyes softening as he does. “..So.. Can I get you anything, or..?”

I feel so helpless here.. “..My Pokémon,” Volo murmurs. “Let them out.”

“They’re at the Pokémon center, I don’t have them right now. ..Sorry.” Speaking of which, I need to go pick them up soon..

“Oh..” Well, that’s disappointing, but. At least he knows they’re okay and somewhere safe. He ignores the part of him that screams it’s a lie, the part of him that screams he needs to leave, to go find them.

It’ll only hurt me to trust.

Volo stares at the wall for a few moments.

..He ignores that side of his mind despite his better judgement, reaching for Cheri again. Desperate for a kind touch he hadn’t felt in years.

Cheri scoots closer to Volo, gently resting his hand across Volo’s chest- away from the injury, of course. Volo’s body twitches with an involuntary flinch, but he hums, wrapping his arms around Cheri’s.

Cheri studies Volo’s face for a moment, his yellow eyes staring into Volo’s soul, a look Volo’s quickly become familiar with in the time they’ve spent together. “..Do you cuddle them to sleep, or..?”

Volo nods. “..I.. don’t know if I’ve slept alone a day in my life. I’ve always had.. um.. At least an egg, Toge as an egg..” He shakes his head, humming quietly as Cheri moves a little closer. “..thank you,” he murmurs.

“Don’t mention it.” Cheri rests his chin on the side of the bed, still watching Volo.

Under Cheri’s protective gaze, Volo lets himself relax. “..tell them to.. um.. lower the pain meds.. I hate feeling like this,” Volo mumbles.

“It’s gonna hurt like a bitch,” Cheri warns.

“Please. Please. I.. um..” Volo’s eyelids are heavy, but he opens his eyes anyway, staring at Cheri with a pleading look. “I have to be able to, to think. Please.”

Cheri stares back for a moment, then sighs, eyes softening as he nods. “I’ll.. see what I can do.”

Volo nods, eyes slipping closed again as he breathes a quiet sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he mumbles, relaxing into Cheri’s touch.

“Of course,” Cheri murmurs. “..Get some sleep. You need it.”

Volo nods, and Cheri watches as, slowly, his breathing evens out.

It isn’t long before Cheri’s asleep too.

#whumpril2024 #whumprilday2 #Whumpril #riftshipping #🤍cheri #🌻volo #whumpril alt prompt #pokémon whump #anyway in the last post I rambled in the tags abt Cheri #so now I will have a Volo ramble. bc he’s so changed from canon that he might as well be an oc #so. he doesn’t like trusting people same as canon. sees humanity as mostly evil and untrustworthy #but here he’s gotten over his whole fear of attachment thing #so he loves and cares about his Pokémon and he lets it show #bc of an incident where he thought one Died and he didn’t know if they knew he loved them (they were fine) #but yeah he makes an effort to make sure they know he cares now #he still doesn’t trust people. bc at least if a Pokémon wants you dead you’ll know #but if it’s a person they could.. Well. People are Dangerous #anyway like canon he loves knowledge and learning #I reflected that in his last name which Should mean to learn #unlike canon he is now Very Unlikely to approach people to get to what he wants #or at all #he is Scared of people now #(Cheri counts as people BUT Cheri is also blessed by Arceus so he gets a pass) #By the way he had issues BEFORE eclipse happened like. #I saw this guy and went “Wow. You have so much trauma… Want some more? #lol anyway. yeah. Sorry Volo! I swear you’re my favorite TwT

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 16

in which everyone has a bad time. except kasia. he's having fun

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory @justbreakonme @downrivergirl914 @cdragontogacotar @whumps-up @vaguelyhumanvoid @kim-poce @kween-pinescales

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, force feeding, stress positions, references to mouth whump and burns

-

Rowe took to repeating the affirmations every day, whispering them past the newly empty gaps in his gums. When he did them, he could forget for a little while that he was going to die in his cell. At least he could die as something. He wouldn’t let Kasia turn him into an empty husk.

I have worth.

I don’t deserve pain.

I’m a person.

He was careful, of course, to lock them away when Kasia visited. He tried not to associate them with pain; he said them every day when he woke up, not when he was freshly hurting. He didn’t want to ever, ever, say them in front of Kasia.

He knew if he did it would just get him another beating, but they were his. They were precious. They were a relic of Master that Kasia couldn’t corrupt.

He just had to keep his stupid mouth shut when it mattered.

For the first time since his arrival here, Rowe spent a whole day alone. The hours ticked by as he started to see shapes in the floor, and wondered if Kasia would ever return. Was this it? Had he got bored already? Would Rowe be left to die and rot after less than a week, his capture so recent he could still feel Master’s hands in his?

In reality it only meant that when Kasia did come back the next day, Rowe despised himself for the brief flash of relief. The man he was at the mercy of had returned to torture him another day.

Kasia had brought more chains, and restraints, always in his duffle bag, and Rowe had quickly learnt to shrink away at the mere sight of it. Rowe stayed curled up on the floor as he entered, eyeing him like a kicked dog.

“Did you miss me, pup?”

“Please,” he replied hoarsely. “Please give me f-food. Please.”

Rowe would never have dared beg with his first Master. But he had always known that he would be fed, eventually, once he had learnt his lesson. And of course, he’d never needed to beg Master Tomas. But here, there weren’t any rules. Nothing was guaranteed. So fuck it, he might as well try to prolong his life.

“Today’s your lucky day. I actually brought something. You’ll have to earn it, though. No getting on my fucking nerves, yeah?”

You’re the one who chooses to come here, Rowe thought despairingly.

“Okay, okay, just please-“

“Didn’t you just hear me?” Kasia kicked him in the stomach and Rowe moaned. He nodded, wincing as the burns on his neck pressed together.

“Arms up, come on.”

. . .

Tomas had made it from the shower to the downstairs sofa, and he was content with that. Not proud, no, proud would imply he was happy with himself in some way, but at least he wasn’t completely catatonic today. Luca had texted saying to answer the door if it rang, and a part of Tomas still wanted to impress him, despite it all. So he had showered and brushed the last of the blood from his hair. God, how many days had it been?

A small movement on the floor caught his eye. A spider, out of reach, too far to feasibly get him. He felt acutely aware of his own apathy then, as instead of shrieking or running away, he just stared.

The chance of the spider hurting him was practically zero. And yet he was still afraid. Afraid of it crawling over his skin, afraid that it might come near him in the night when he was asleep and vulnerable, and although he knew deep down that it wouldn’t, there was always the possibility of it deciding to run up his leg at any given moment. Even being near it made him afraid.

He thought of Rowe. He felt like he understood something. He sighed.

Luca arrived not half an hour later, banging on the door and shouting for Tomas as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey! It’s me- don’t leave me outside on this cold night. I’m only an orphan boy.”

Tomas pulled the door open. He couldn’t smile, but seeing Luca felt like the weight in his stomach was lifted slightly.

“It’s not cold. And you’re not an orphan.”

“I am happy to see you, though,” Luca said calmly. He was holding a basket, its contents hidden under a teatowel. “I brought you a pull-yourself-together hamper. Some ready meals, dry shampoo, fruit, and stuff. And the teatowel. ‘Cause why not.”

Already Tomas could feel Luca’s warmth seeping into him. He put a hand over his mouth and nodded. “Than- thanks, thank you, you know you don’t owe me anything-“

“I know, handsome lad. But the thought of Rowe being kidnapped is- god, it’s awful. Don’t worry, I’m here of my own free will. Sometimes you just need someone else in the house.”

Tomas let him inside, feeling guilty about the mess, then feeling guilty because he was the one who allowed it to accumulate.

“Let’s open a window,” Luca suggested, and Tomas sloped over. “Want me to get that spider?”

He shook his head, trying uselessly to hide his face. “It’s fine, it’s fine, you can let it stay, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m-“

His own voice cracking cut him off but he pressed on.

“I’m fine, I really am.”

“You’re not. It’s okay.”

“Just- how- how the fuck did I let this happen. How did I not, I mean, I trusted him this whole- whole time and now it’s all gone wrong and-“

He sat heavily on the floor, leaning his face into the side of the sofa, not blinking, not seeing. He breathed out and time seemed to slow.

Luca’s hand rested on his shoulder, a gentle pressure to his fingers.

“What’s done is done. You can’t help Rowe by falling apart, and you definitely can’t help yourself like that either. It’s, ah, it’s hard. It’s really hard. But you can collapse and cry and disintegrate when Rowe is back, I promise. Do you know where Kasia lives?”

Tomas nodded. “I haven’t even thought about that. I can’t believe myself.”

“Hey, no falling apart okay?” Luca’s tone was firm, and it made Tomas pull his head up, to look at him. His hair, braided in two chunky plaits, hung asymmetrically, one past his collarbone and one down his back. His eyeliner was winged like the letter V, drawn out in a point that came sharply back over his eyelid. Pretty. “That’s good to know, though. You could catch him on his way in or out, try to strike up a deal, I don’t know. I’ve not exactly had any experience with kidnappings either.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking stupid isn’t it. This whole situation is stupid. Fuck.”

Luca just looked at him, a sad smile ghosting over his face.

“I just can’t stop thinking about all the things that might be happening,” Tomas confessed. “He’s unhinged, he really is. He’s sick. And he’s got Rowe and the police don’t care, no one cares.”

“I care. You care.”

Tomas didn’t reply and the words hung over them. Two people caring wasn’t much. But, he supposed, it was better than nothing.

. . .

Rowe’s arms would dislocate, they would they absolutely would, Kasia was setting him up to dislocate both his god damn shoulders or arms or whatever. Rowe could hardly tell where the pain was located, it felt like it was everywhere, burning through his like a fire burns a taut string.

The food- dog food, but still edible, still something- sat before him, emptied on the floor, and from where Rowe knelt he should’ve been able to lean and eat easily. But Kasia had his arms bound and tied to the bars of the cage door, pulling them back and turning any movement into agony. Not only was he bent out of shape, but the burns along his shoulders were irritated awfully. He was sure his skin would burst open any second.

It had been twenty minutes at most, and already he was exhausted. Sweat rolled down him, dripping off his nose. He could hardly breathe.

Kasia’s heavy boot pressed down on the crown of his head, and his moan quickly became a scream of pain.

“No, no please!”

“I thought you were hungry. I’m helping.”

The pressure doubled, forcing Rowe’s face closer to the dog food, until he was close enough to open his mouth and take a bite. Disgust flooded him, and it only increased when he chewed. He swallowed past the collar, his throat pressing uncomfortably against it, and oh god, it felt so good, it was food in his belly, he was thankful for it despite everything. Kasia seemed satisfied and released his boot, sending Rowe’s head springing back to relieve the pressure on his shoulders. The skin near his burns had ripped and were bleeding, but nothing was dislocated.

“You’re definitely still hungry. How about another bite?”

Before Rowe could speak, Kasia had grabbed a fistful of hair, shoving him down, the sudden pull on his arms a thousand times worse than before, worse than anything, the pain was clouding his mind and he couldn’t think of anything but the barest, most built-in responses.

He screamed.

Spit flew from his mouth. Kasia kept pressing, his fingers curling tighter together, and the burning on Rowe’s scalp joined the rest of his body. His fingers were surely purple with how hard Kasia had tied them. Rowe had lost all feeling beyond his wrists.

“Please!”

Kasia ignored him.

“Please, st-stop, please M-M-Master Tomas help me-“

“He’s not fucking coming you stupid dog,” Kasia growled and pulled Rowe’s face all the way down, cracking his chin against the concrete, a deep shooting pain through his face and remaining teeth. He moaned. More skin tore along his shoulders. “No one’s coming to save you.”

A kick sent him lurching to the side, twisting his body until he was sprawled with his back to the floor, staring up at his bound hands, which were a mixture of blue and purple and were not moving at all.

He turned his head to see Kasia grabbing a fistful of the dog food from the floor and stepping over him.

“Mouth open.” Rowe complied and Kasia smiled mockingly. “Good boy.”

The dog food was shoved in, packing against the walls of his mouth, Kasia’s fingers prodding his gums, and it took everything not to vomit. His stomach heaved but nothing came. All he could do was be a good boy, and eat.

“Tomas isn’t your Master. He’s not coming.”

Present tense, thought Rowe as his eyes watered from the taste. He’s not dead.

. . .

Tomas couldn’t stop his legs from shaking as he stood on Kasia’s street, his hands tucked under his armpits for warmth. Yeah, the shaking was definitely just from the cold. Sure.

By the time Kasia appeared, it was night. He stalked down the street, stumbling slightly, and Tomas realised he was drunk. If he hadn’t had a reason to be there, he would have walked away right now, and fast.

When Kasia got close enough, Tomas stepped out of the shadows, forcing Kasia to stop and fix him with a glare.

“Give him back.”

“Or what?” he asked flatly, as if this meeting was no surprise. “Hah, you look like shit Tomas.”

“Give him fucking back, what do you want for him, money? You’re torturing a human being you sick fuck.”

“I’m having some fun with a Pet,” Kasia smiled. “And if you start whining like this I will just kill him.”

Tomas stiffened. “You wouldn’t.”

“You so sure about that?”

“Let him go.”

“No,” Kasia pushed him once and Tomas stumbled back, hitting a wall. He blinked and Kasia’s face was pressed up in front of his. He stank of booze and cigarettes. “Fuck off or I’ll kill him. I’ll hurt him worse to make up for this, too.”

“No, fuck no just leave him fucking alone-“

Kasia swung once, but mercifully something made him miss. Carelessness, the alcohol, perhaps just the assumption that Tomas was too pathetic to move out of the way. His fist cracked against the wall and as he shouted in pain Tomas considered kicking him between the legs, spitting on him, whatever. But Rowe’s life was at stake so, like the coward he was, he ran into the night, Kasia shouting taunts behind him.

Luca looked up when he pushed through the door, panting. He’d run the entire way. Luca stayed silent; the look on Tomas’s face was telling enough.

“I’m a fucking failure,” he whispered, and started to cry.

#whump #pet whump #whump fic #dehumanisation #tomas and rowe #mine #enjoy! #i hope this is a satisfying chapter #will tungle tag people in this? who knows

[jordanstrophe]

Going Once, Going Twice, part 3

CW: Whump, Auction Whump, Pet Whump, Trafficking, Slavery, Restraints, Cages, Manhandling, Gag, Trauma, A Pet being “chipped” through the wrist

((Overall, Peter just kinda having a rough night. Fluff will strike eventually.))

Masterlist

The room was distant, his body felt numb. He couldn’t feel the tears staining his face, or his feet being drug across the floor. He could only feel the hands wrapped around him, pulling him along, but even they felt unreal. 

In an instant, it felt like someone slammed his body against a wall. His vision jostled and his body ached. He opened his eyes, and realized he was laying on his side, he had been tossed in a large metal bar cage. He was too shaken and dizzy to try and sit up to look around. He was just tired. Tired, and hungry, and cold... And apparently, sold.

“Oh have mercy...” Winola crumpled into a seat backstage. She buried her face within her trembling hands. When she opened her eyes, there was a glass of water hovering in her vision. 

“Thanks Neal...” She muttered, taking the glass from his hand. “So... He did it.” Neal shrugged.

“Yeah, He did it. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to ask that of him, but the Baron...” She shuttered.

“Ma’am, pardon me, but you shouldn’t have gotten involved in that.” Neal tsked.

“Quiet now, I know what I’m doing. And besides, Rob owed me a favor.” 

“Winola!” Robert rasped, trying not to raise his voice, speed-walking past the workers backstage, who all had eyes on him. The man who had fought the Baron, and won.

“Ah! And there’s our lucky winner now. Congratulations, sir.” She smiled. 

“Is an explanation free? or do I have to pay millions for that as well.” Robert sassed.

“Oh hush you, now come on over.” She waved, pulling him over into her room. Neal guarded the door from the outside, as Winola slowly draped herself in a old rocking chair with a groan. Robert leaned his shoulder against a wall with his arms crossed expectantly.

“We both know what the Baron is known for. Buys a pet, they mysteriously “run away”, never to be seen again. He gets taken in for allegations of Pet abuse, pays his way out, everyone forgets, repeat.” She muttered.

“I’m aware. Everyone is aware, and as sick as it is, there’s really nothing we can do about it.” Robert sighed.

“Yes there is. We just did. You saved that boy's life.” She pointed.

“But now what? I own a human being, what am I supposed to do with him?"

“Take him home. Feed him, care for him, love him.” She shrugged. “Okay, I’m being half serious here. I needed someone with the money who could outbid the Baron. If you really don’t want him that badly, I’ll look for some nice owner who can take him off your hands, just give me a week.” 

“So I spent five million to rent a boy for a week? Do you realize how insane this is?” Robert argued.

 “Don’t raise your voice at an old woman, young man. I didn’t ask you to bid five million, you didn’t have to bid anything. Besides, you have money, because you literally don’t spend any of it. I’ll get you paid back as much as I can, but I wasn’t expecting you to drop five million.” She waved. Robert took a deep breath, with his fingertips rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, don’t worry about it. What’s done is done. I’ll care for him for a week, but please try and find someone who will take good care of him, this week.” Robert begged.

“Good, do be patient with him, he’s going to be very frightened. But if anything happens, or you need help, bring him in. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again, he’s a sweetie.” She smiled.

“Hey, I’m frightened too, where’s my hug-” “-Oh shut it.” She snapped, chuckling at him. 

“You bonded with him. Didn’t you?” Robert sighed. She quickly struggled to her feet, shooing him out the door “Go on now and collect your prize.” She waved, shutting the door in his face while chuckling. “Give those two a week and he’s going to bond with him too.” She giggled to herself.

<><>Later<><>

A loud clattering sound woke him. His vision was flipped from laying on the floor, but the could make out a man opening his cage, and was standing at it’s entrance. Reality struck, as arm wrapped around his chest and pulled him to his feet. All he could do was whimper as he placed in a hard metal chair. He gasped as it felt like dozens of hands grabbed him at every side, strapping his arms, legs, chest and waist down. One of his arms was specifically strapped out further, twisted upwards. He panicked, but before he could even cry out, his jaw was wrenched open as a wooden bar was shoved between his teeth. 

“Don’t move.” A voice growled. His sight was blurry with tears, but he could see someone looming over him, with something cold pressing hard into his wrist.

 “W--Wai-AAAAA!” He screamed, his arm shooting with sharp pain. It felt like someone had just impaled his wrists with a sharp spike. He bit down on the wooden bit hard, desperately trying to rip his wrists away, biting back the rest of his cries. His wrist was then gently wrapped with a white bandage and he was given a rough pat on the cheek. His breath shuttered, as he sobbed, his cries muffled.

“Sir! He’s all ready for you.” The man set down the chipping gun, waving Robert over who was just now showing up. Robert shot a glance at the young man who now apparently belonged to him, restrained, sobbing, twitching, hyperventilating. His wrist slightly bleeding through a fresh new bandage.  

‘’He’s just been chipped, and I see here he’s been fully paid for. Must have really wanted this one, huh?” The man chuckled. “If you need any help getting him to your car, we have a transport team that can take him, if you have a cage or a trunk set up in the vehicle.” The man said.

“I-I.. That won’t be necessary. I think I’ll handle him on my own, thank you.” Robert shuttered.

“Oh! Well that’s new... In that case, do you have a muzzle and restraints? Perhaps you would like him sedated?” The man asked, quite casually.

“What? No! None of those, I’ll walk him, if that’s fine.” Robert argued.

The man broke down laughing hysterically, Robert would have felt flattered if he had said something funny, which he hadn’t. 

“You uh... You didn’t come very prepared, did ya?” The man laughed, wiping away a tear. “Pets who have just been sold are always shaken up, so they tend to be stubborn, sometimes even aggressive. I highly suggest at least a muzzle and straps, sir.” The man huffed.

As convenient as that would be, Robert liked to think he was a decent man. He didn’t want to manhandle a traumatized boy, he just looked so scared... He just needed some time and space, and he would come around when he was ready... Goodness what was he doing. He was already planning strategies on how to handle him when he got home. It was only going to be a week at most.

“I’ve got it, really.” He said, as Peter was unstrapped from the chair, wooden bit pulled from his teeth, but the cuffs stayed, with a firm hand holding him down. “In that case, keep the cuffs. You paid enough already. Besides, something tells me you might need them.” The man chuckled.

 Robert bent down in front of Peter and put a gentle hand on his knee. “Hi there.” He smiled. Peter was gasping for air, trembling, holding his wrist tightly with his bound hand. It was around three AM, he was exhausted, slightly nodding off, but still in shock. “I’m just going to pick you up okay?” Robert asked. 

Peter looked up at him, was this the man who owned him now? He couldn’t see him in the darkness of the crowd, but he recognized his voice. The same voice shouting millions in his name. He yelped when he was picked up in the man’s arms, the pain in his wrists, fear and adrenaline combined kicked his defensive instincts hard, and before he could even stop himself, he bit the man’s shoulder.

Hard.

“Sir! This is why we use the muzzle!’’ The man yelled, running over to help.

“No!” Robert yelled, not giving the man a chance to touch him. “It’s-It’s fine... He’s not hurting me, he just has a latch on my coat...’’ Robert grunted.

Peter’s could feel the vibrations in the man’s neck as he spoke. He wanted so badly to just let go and crumble at the man’s feet, apologize and beg for mercy. But he couldn’t move. The shock kept him frozen, being carried bridal style, bound wrists gripping the man’s coat collar, teeth biting into his shoulder and mouth full of material.

“It’s alright...” Robert whispered to him, readjusting his grip around his trembling figure. He carried him through the parking lot, it was pitch black out, with only the streetlights luminating the vehicles around. He could make out distant scenes of other buyers loading their new Pets, some being thrown in a trunk, while some vehicles had entire cages in the pickup. The air was frozen, he could feel the man shaking uncontrollably in his grasp. He could only pull him in close to his chest, hopping that provided some warmth. 

He opened the back of his pickup truck and climbed in. He laid the man down in the backseat, who still had a death grip on his coat shoulder.  He placed a hand on his tear-soaked cheek. 

“I’m letting you go now, so can you let go for me too?” He soothed, the man’s eyes looked up at him pitifully, almost apologetically. Robert sighed as he unbuttoned his coat, and shuffled it off his shoulders. The man came off him along with his coat, as he laid him down and tucked the rest of his coat around him. He climbed into the driver's seat and glanced back. He still had his jaw locked onto the coat, but his eyes were half closed. 

“It’s okay. Just try and get some sleep, everything’s alright.” Robert soothed, turning up the heat in the car, as he was also shivering. He hoped the man would be tired enough he wouldn’t cause too much trouble for the first night. 

(press X to doubt)

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @moose-teeth @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @yet-another-heathen @sillypizzazineoperator @freefallingup13 @alien-octopus

ʕっ• �� • ʔっ *:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!

#whump #caretaker #auction whump #whumpee #rescued whumpee #pet whumpee #tw slavery #restrained whumpee #sold whumpee #caretaking #whump writing #whump stories

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

I’m Fine: An AtsuHina sick fic (Part 1)

@wraithpoison said:

an atsuhina sick fic please <3

This is a request from my other blog! I’m sorry it took me so long. Honestly, I had a lot of trouble with this one for some reason? I rewrote it like three times :/ and this one is actually going to be in two parts too! This part isn’t too AtsuHina heavy, but the next part will be. 

I’m Fine: an AtsuHina sick fic (part 1)

Part 2

Pairing: Sick Atsumu, caretaker Hinata (also caretakers Rin & Osamu)

Word Count: 2,360

Trigger Warnings: vomiting, swearing, stressed Hinata :(

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, Tsumu,” Shoyo frowned at him through their FaceTime. Unfortunately, the redhead was in an airport, sitting at his gate waiting for his flight and not currently with Atsumu. He had headphones in, but they were picking up all of the noise around him and it made Atsumu’s head pound.

“I know, Sho. Try not to worry so much, alright? Imma big kid now. I can take care of a little fever by myself,” Atsumu responded sleepily. He was curled up in a blanket, lying on their couch.

The Jackals were given about 2 weeks off and Shoyo decided to use that time to go visit some of his friends in Brazil for a week. He invited Atsumu, but the latter declined, saying that he wanted to go home and see his mom.

Atsumu got home last night and Shoyo’s flight was set to arrive tomorrow morning. The plans worked out perfectly so that they’d have a week on their respective vacations and a week together.

While Atsumu was driving home last night, he started feeling lethargic and heavy and just overall Not Good. He brushed it off as exhaustion and went straight to bed when he got back, only to wake up this morning feeling worse. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that he had a fever. The sticky sweat that plastered his clothes to his body despite the chills he felt were a dead giveaway.

Shoyo called him when he got settled at the gate. Atsumu tried valiantly to appear healthy, but after 3 years of dating, Shoyo knew him entirely too well to be fooled. Now he was all anxious and trying to magically make the 24 hour journey from Rio to Tokyo happen in less time.

“I know, but I’m just worried. And I feel bad that I’m not there to help you,” Shoyo pouted. Atsumu rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine, Sho. I’ll see ya tomorrow and you can make me better with all the overdue cuddles I’m owed.”

Shoyo’s lips quirked up ever so slightly and Atsumu felt a little better.

“Did you take something?” Shoyo asked.

“Yeah.”

“Are you staying hydrated?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Did you call Samu and Rin to let them know?”

“I just texted them. They’ll come runnin’ if I need ‘em,” he sighed.

“Do you want me to order you some soup from that one restaurant?”

“What? Sho, no-“

“They’ll deliver! I can do it from here. The airport has wifi and I might have to pay for it but that’s okay and if it means that—“ Shoyo started rambling frantically and Atsumu’s head spun.

“Shoyo, hey. Shut up, will ya?” He chuckled and Shoyo’s mouth snapped shut.

“Sorry, Tsumu. I just wish I was home already,” he looked down. (Atsumu obviously wasn’t with his boyfriend, but if he knew him at all, Shoyo was nervously picking at the hem of his shirt.)

“I know. Me too,” Atsumu replied. Truth be told, he was feeling a lot worse than he let on. At the least, he hoped Shoyo couldn’t tell.

His head felt like it was being squeezed, he was congested, those chills were still pretty prevalent, his body felt like it weighed 1000 pounds and he felt vaguely nauseous.

That’s what he was most afraid of, honestly. He really, really didn’t want to throw up. He’s never liked it; never handled it well. Hopefully he could stave off the nausea, at least until Shoyo got home.

Shoyo looked back up at him and Atsumu wanted more than anything for him to be home right now so he could physically rub away the anxious lines on his boyfriend’s face.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured. Shoyo nodded.

“I’m gonna take a nap, okay? Yer flight leaves at midnight yer time right?” Again, Shoyo nodded. Perfect. That meant that he’d be home by noon tomorrow. It was about 10 in the morning in Tokyo (so 10 in the evening in Rio), so Atsumu only had to wait about 26 hours for Shoyo to get home. Hopefully, he’d be sleeping most of that time anyway.

“Okay,” he said, “can ya stop worrying? It’s just a little fever.” Shoyo groaned.

“Fine! Fine. As long as you promise to text your brother if you start feeling worse. Please don’t push yourself, Tsum-Tsum,” Shoyo all but begged. Atsumu gaped at him.

“Me? Overwork myself? I’m offended at the implication, babe” he teased. Shoyo rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m serious, Atsumu. You always push yourself more than you should. Don’t do that this time, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. Honestly,” he resituated himself, “I’m prob’ly just gonna take a nap and order take out. I don’t feel much like doing anything anyway,” he shrugged. And oops, he probably shouldn’t have said that. Immediately, Shoyo became more suspicious.

“You? Agreeing to rest? Are you sure it’s just a fever?”

“‘Course!” Atsumu forced a laugh and Shoyo’s eyes narrowed. “Have I ever lied to you, baby?”

“Yes,” Shoyo deadpanned, “all the time.” Atsumu bristled.

“Not about anything important, though! And my health is important,” he assured.

“Atsumu, please take this seriously. Fevers are no joke, okay? I know that all too well,” Shoyo said, a serious look on his face. Atsumu wanted to wash it away. He frowned, remembering nationals his second year of high school, watching Shoyo collapse on the court. They may not have been close yet, but it was scary nonetheless.

“I know. And I promise I am taking care of myself, alright?” he said, no longer trying to joke, but simply reassure. He hated causing Shoyo any sort of anxiety.

“I’m gonna go now, okay?” He said and Shoyo nodded.

“Okay. Alright. Take a nap. Stay hydrated. Text Osamu if you need to. Don’t be all proud,” Shoyo instructed.

“Yes, yes, okay. I love you. Have a safe flight,” he smiled. Shoyo’s face brightened and Atsumu felt slightly reassured that maybe, just maybe, Shoyo wouldn’t spend his entire 24 hour journey home worrying about him.

“I love you, too. See you tomorrow,” Shoyo replied and with that, the call ended.

As soon as Shoyo’s face disappeared from his phone, Atsumu sank into the couch and exhaled exhaustedly. Keeping up the appearance that he felt alright took way more energy than he thought.

He curled up on his side and wrapped his blanket tighter around himself. A nap. That’s what he needed. If he was asleep, he could ignore the headache and the nausea and the chills. And hopefully, when he woke up, he’d feel better.

With that thought, Atsumu went to sleep.

***

Shoyo stared anxiously at the screen that previously had his boyfriend’s pale, flushed face displayed on it. Atsumu was definitely more sick than he let on and Shoyo might punch him later for lying, but for the time being, there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t make his trip home any shorter.

Instead of letting panic take hold, he did the next best thing. He texted Osamu and Rintaro.

From: Shoyo

“Did Atsumu text you guys?”

From: Osamu

“Yeah. Sorry your boyfriend’s an idiot.”

From: Rin

“Samu, while you’re absolutely correct and should say so, maybe not right now.”

“Don’t worry, Sho. Samu is an ass, but he’s worried too. We’re gonna go check on that pig later today.”

Shoyo breathed a huge sigh of relief towards the ceiling. Osamu doesn’t show it, but he does care about his brother. And Shoyo could always count on them.

From: Shoyo

“Thank you guys. Let me know how he’s doing?”

“I just got off FaceTime with him and he was putting up a brave front, but he didn’t look good.”

From: Osamu

“Of course he was. I gotcha, Shoyo. I’ll knock some sense into the big stupid.”

From: Rin

“In other words, yes, we’ll keep you updated and make sure that he’s well taken care of. Don’t stress. Just focus on getting home and leave the time in between to us.”

Shoyo did feel better knowing that Rin and Osamu were so close to Atsumu and could check up on him. He’d be okay. So, for the time being, all he could do was wait.

***

Atsumu woke up to conversation. He squeezed his eyes and shifted around, groaning. Whoever was talking needed to shut up. The tightness in his head hadn’t let up at all and he was absolutely freezing.

“Oh, yer awake. Finally.”

Atsumu scrunched his eyebrows together and blinked his eyes open, only to find his brother and Rin sitting on the love seat next to the couch.

“Samu?” He croaked.

“Yeah. We’re actually here. It’s not some crazy fever induced dream,” he said in his usual monotone.

“More like a nightmare,” Atsumu mumbled. He sat up and the room spun. He moaned and put his face in his hands.

“How are you feeling?” Rin asked him. Atsumu glanced at his phone. It was about two thirty in the afternoon. Twenty one and half hours until Shoyo was home.

“Fine,” he responded, but it was muffled by his hands. “I told you you guys I’d let ya know if I needed ya. Why’re you here?” He looked at them again.

“Shoyo asked us to come.” Rin shrugged.

“‘Course he did,” he sighed.

“Well, it’s a good thing we did. Ya look like shit,” Osamu said bluntly and stood up. He left the room, but came back a second later with some soup and a ginger ale.

“Eat. Then take some more meds and then we’ll get outta yer hair.”

Atsumu stared at the soup for a second and his stomach turned itself over. He really didn’t want to put anything in his body right now.

“Did ya poison it?” He tried to disguise the involuntary curl of his lip off as an insult towards his brother.

“Wha—no, you stupid pig, we didn’t poison it.” Osamu almost yelled, his eyebrows furrowing together. In fact, Atsumu was sure that if he wasn’t feeling so awful, his brother would have yelled and smacked him upside the head. But Osamu also happened to know Atsumu entirely too well.

“It’s from some restaurant that Shoyo told us about. He said it was your favorite,” Rin said, his tone quiet. Probably because Osamu knew Atsumu had a headache and warned Rin.

Atsumu felt his chest twist. Shoyo sent them? And told them about his favorite soup? Atsumu wanted to cry.

“Are you crying?” Rin asked, wide eyed. Oh, maybe he was crying. He couldn’t tell, honestly. His face was hot, regardless.

“Ppppfttt,” Osamu held back a laugh.

“Hey! Don’t be an ass. I don’t feel good and I miss my boyfriend,” Atsumu sniffled. “Need I remind ya of the time Rin was gone for a week and ya whined to me about it nightly,” he shot back. Osamu shut up.

“Just eat it,” was all he said. Atsumu must look at lot worse than he thinks because Osamu wasn’t fighting back. He only did that when he knew Atsumu really wasn’t feeling good—physically or mentally.

Staring at the soup, he couldn’t help the twist of his face again.

“Tsumu,” Osamu sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does yer stomach hurt?”

Atsumu blushed (or was that his fever?) and shook his head rapidly.

“No! It’s...it’s fine. I’m fine,” he said probably too hastily.

“Don’t lie, please.” Osamu put a hand on his hip and stared Atsumu down. Rin looked between them curiously. Atsumu glared at his brother.

“It’s a little uneasy. But I’m fine,” he insisted.

“Are ya sure you don’t want us to stay with ya until Shoyo gets back?” Osamu asked gently. From the corner of his eye, Atsumu saw Rin’s eyes widen at the abrupt softness coming from Osamu.

Atsumu hesitated. Did he want them to stay? They were offering. It’s not like he was inconveniencing them in any way. Osamu may be a dick, but he was still his brother. And if he was going to puke later, he’d want someone else here. He opened his mouth to say yes please stay I don’t want to be alone, but was cut off by Sunarin.

“Samu, we can’t stay. We promised Akaashi we’d take the twins overnight since they went out of town with Kuroo and Kenma,” Sunarin said. He pulled his lips into a tight line and picked at his fingernails.

Clearly, he didn’t want to leave Atsumu alone. But the Bokuto twins were handfuls at best and nightmares at worst. There was no way that Rin could watch them alone. And Atsumu couldn’t very well go over there and risk getting them sick.

Osamu looked between the two of them and bit his lip.

“Rin, would you mind if—“

“It’s fine, Samu,” Atsumu interrupted. It wasn’t fine.

Osamu’s eyes burned holes into Atsumu’s face. He knew. He knew that Atsumu was nauseas. He knew that Atsumu hated vomiting. Atsumu appreciated it, he did. But he didn’t need his brother to come to his rescue.

“Sho will be home tomorrow morning. It’s fine. I’ll call if I need ya,” he tried to sound confident, but his voice shook. His throat hurt.

Osamu obviously didn’t believe him, the frown on his face and the pull of his eyebrows giving him away. He exhaled through his lips and nodded.

“Okay. But seriously, you can call if ya need to,” he resigned and sat down beside Atsumu on the couch.

Rin and Osamu stayed for a few more hours until they absolutely had to leave. Osamu was still reluctant and it made Atsumu happy when he remembered how much his brother cared, despite the way it looked to outsiders. With another promise to call if he needed to, the two of them left Atsumu alone once more.

He surveyed his body.

Headache? Crushing.

Fever? Scorching.

Body Aches? Heavy.

Nausea? Prevalent.

He moaned and curled tightly in on himself once more. The DVD player under the TV said it was nearly five pm. A little more than 17 hours until Shoyo was home. He could do this. He’d be fine.

***

He was not fine. He was absolutely not fine.

Atsumu heaved into the toilet, gripping the seat tightly. Everything happened so fast. One second he was asleep on the couch and in the next second he was sprinting to the bathroom, just barely making it before projectile vomiting into the toilet.

The room around him swirled and his throat burned with every aborted heave. What time was it? Would Shoyo be home soon? He felt so so terrible. It was so hot. Sweat covered every inch of his body, making it difficult to keep his hold on the toilet. Despite that, he was still trembling. His fever was probably way too high. He should do something about that, right?

His stomach lurched again and he belched wetly, but swallowed down whatever tried to come up. He refused. The loss of control that accompanied throwing up made him feel helpless and horrible and dammit what was that high pitched whine? It cut through his brain like a knife.

Finally, he was granted a reprieve and gasping, he sat back on his heels. He needed to move, needed to do something while he had the time. If he knew his body at all, he knew this was going to be a long fight that he would inevitably lose. It was such a surprise he didn’t have time to prepare. He wiped at his face.

Oh, he was crying. That was probably the whining that still hadn’t stopped. Pathetic.

Okay, it was fine. He could do this. Grabbing onto the sink, he hoisted himself up on unsteady legs.

In the next fifteen minutes, he managed to grab a blanket, a pillow, his phone, some crackers (not that he really wanted to eat them) and one of Shoyo’s nasty fruity sports drinks. The whole endeavor took way longer than it should have, but all of his movements were sluggish and difficult. It also became blatantly obvious that the battle against his stomach was not one he was going to win.

Just the thought of puking more kept a steady flow of tears streaming down his cheeks the entire trip.

Finally, he made it back to the bathroom and set up camp for the night. Smacking the screen of his phone, he checked the time.

“12:27 am” taunted him. Less than 12 hours. Good. He managed to sleep for around 5 hours.

Nausea swirled in his gut and he whimpered. Several unproductive heaves later, he was left reeling.

Somewhere in the haze of his mind, he thought to contact his brother. He couldn’t open his mouth though. No chance. Then he’d for sure puke. Where was Shoyo? He wanted Shoyo.

He picked up his phone in shaking fingers and sent a slew of what he hoped were coherent texts to their group chat with Osamu and Rin. Slowly but surely, he was losing his grasp on his surroundings, the fever messing with his brain.

Help. He needed help. He was scared.

Disgusting gurgles sounded from his stomach and he choked on a sob. He rested a cheek on the toilet seat, and gagged.

“No, no no no,” he cried, but he couldn’t stop it. He was too sick. Too weak. Too tired. Instead of trying to force it back down, he dropped his jaw and burped. Vomit poured out of his mouth and he sobbed between heaves.

When the fit ended, he collapsed onto the floor, gasping and crying. Why was this happening? Where was Shoyo? Why wasn’t his boyfriend here? Did he get tired of Atsumu and leave him? What about Osamu? Was he sick of Atsumu too?

Of course. Of course they were.

Shoyo. He just wanted his boyfriend. Why wasn’t he here? Why why why what did Atsumu do to chase him away?

Those were the last thoughts that plagued Atsumu’s mind before his surroundings faded away completely.

#haikyuu sickfic #sick atsumu #caretaker hinata #vomiting #atsuhina #side pairing sunaosa #suna rintarou #miya osamu #miya atsumu #hinata shoyo #my fic #tw vomit #request

[tenmillionwhumperflies]

Cloudwalker Series Part 20

Okay I managed to unwriters-block myself so we’re back on track. I’m treating you all to some Blue and Dyan whump.

Content Warnings: Contains descriptions of rather gross magical wounds, hiding injuries, magic whump, negative self talk, and passing out from wounds.

Master-list Here

Approx WC: 1900

Taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

Blue woke with a soft groan. He immediately felt awful, sick down to his bones, but it was not like anything he was used to or had felt before. It wasn’t from blood loss, or a bad stomach or aches from fighting. He’d experienced all of those and so much more and it wasn’t that. 

It was magic related, he could feel the draining deep in his chest, but again, it wasn’t like usual, it wasn’t like he’d just ran out and needed Orrien to give him some magic. He just didn’t understand it, but he knew it wasn’t going to be easy to act like nothing was wrong. Orrien was good at noticing when something was wrong.

His eyes fluttered open to reveal a head of brown hair. He smiled weakly, knowing it was Dyan. For a moment, he savoured the comfort, the warmth that Dyan’s wings brought, the kind of warmth that just couldn’t be replicated by a blanket, but he quickly felt too warm. He could only assume he had a fever coming on.

He could hear Dyan’s breathing, the incredibly soft snore. Blue would have stayed there all day if he could, but he had to carry out his chores. He sat up, battling against the wave of dizziness that it brought him. He rubbed his head and looked down at Dyan, seeing him all cuddled up against him, so at peace. It was nice to see him looking more relaxed.

But he had to do his chores, he had to prove his worth and he had to try to work through this sickness to get rid of it. He began to sit up but someone cleared their throat. He jumped and saw Avizon sitting on the floor with Ihuka asleep in his arms. 

"Maybe you should stay in bed," he said quietly, like he was choosing his words carefully. "But my chores…" "You're wounded. You shouldn't do heavy work," Avizon advised.

Blue didn’t like hearing it. He didn’t like hearing that he wasn’t good enough to do a job- no matter what the reason. "But…" "It's alright, Blue, really," Avizon said softly. "They're no doubt already taken care of. Orrien isn't as fragile as you fear. It's alright to rest… in truth, I think you and Dyan both need time to process what happened. I think he needs you- and I'm not just saying such things to keep you in bed."

Blue slowly shuffled back down and asked, "What do you mean?" "I think he was so shocked by what had happened he'd gone numb, hidden away in his own mind. He was in a daze and I couldn’t help him. He looked so lost but the only real thought getting through to him was you…"

Blue frowned but nodded slowly. He felt… special? Important? He wasn’t sure how to explain it. To be the one thing that Dyan was holding onto… well, he was just glad he was able to help. Dyan must have been so worried…  so scared.

Blue whimpered in the back of his throat."I… I think I've run out of magic… I need to tell mas- I mean… tell Orrien." "He was going to come up in a few minutes. Can you hold or is it an emergency?"

"I.it can wait a little longer," Blue answered but he winced in pain at his shoulder. The bite that cloudwalker had left behind still hurt him badly. He didn’t want to look at it. He didn’t want to see the disapproval from his own kind that would scar his skin forever.

Avizon frowned at him and sighed, “It… It’s going to be alright, Blue. I am not always good with my words and I am sorry I cannot say or do more, but things will be alright.”

Blue’s head shot towards the door as quiet footsteps neared and Orrien appeared. “Easy, easy… You look awful…” “He told me he needed magic,” Avizon said. Orrien rolled up his sleeves, “That can be arranged. Hold still, my lad.”

Blue offered him his neck with a whimper, letting his weather-worn fingertips gently press against the tattooed skin, for him to begin to mutter the spell that would give him some magic to keep him alive. Blue battled against tears, but it wasn’t because of pain. Orrien was always so gentle when he gave him magic, but he hated this, he hated having to be dependent on another. He wanted his wings back, he wanted to fly, to fish- to be accepted!

He wanted to be a cloudwalker again.

When Orrien was finished, Blue was surprised to find he didn’t feel that much better. He reluctantly admitted it to Orrien. “I… I don’t know if it worked? I still feel bad, but usually...”

“There are a lot of people with powers in this room, it could be that your body is picking up on that. But you’ve also lost blood and been healed a lot. Perhaps you should sleep, and if that hasn’t helped, I’ll see what I can do,” Orrien suggested.

Blue looked down at Dyan and then to the window. He liked being near him, but at the same time, he needed air, he needed to be alone for a little while. The barn was his favourite place to go. That was where he could think and doze off in the hay and be at peace. The more he thought about it, the more he needed to get out of this bed and go there. He didn’t like seeing all their pitiful expressions.

“I… can I go in the barn?” Orrien sighed softly. “Alright, but please don’t be doing any work.” Blue nodded. He eased his way out of bed, biting back whimpers, but Orrien could see his pain. He helped him up and out of bed.

Dyan let out a soft whine in his sleep, so Orrien lifted Ihuka onto the bed, putting him in his place. So Avizon could actually stand up. Blue felt bad. He wanted to stay, but right now, he just didn’t feel like he belonged beside a cloudwalker, and Dyan’s warm wings were just too much for him right now. Orrien watched him hobble down the stairs with great concern. Blue could feel his gaze on his back. He couldn't blame him. Moving had not made him feel any better.

Blue kept walking, even as dizziness plagued his vision. He kept going, and he was exhausted before he got to the barn, but his legs kept going. He winced and dropped down in his little corner, resting his head against a small square bale of hay. Quiet, comfortable… alone. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt a little better, like the source of the discomfort was gone. Maybe Orrien was right, it was because he was next to so many with powers, but then… he’d never felt like that before around them. 

He didn’t have the time to dwell on it. As his spirit settled back down, the pain in his shoulder increased. He whimpered and tugged off his bandages with difficulty as his arms grew heavy. What was wrong with it?!

He froze when he saw it. The bite mark had turned coal black, was crumbling and oozing like charred wood. He gulped. This was not natural. This was magic and this was bad. He thought Orrien had cleaned this up last night, it shouldn’t have been like this- but then again, despite all the wounds he’d ever gotten, he’d never seen anything like this before. He needed to get to Orrien. Orrien was his best chance. He’d know what to do.

But as soon as he stood up, he swayed badly. He tried to call for help, but it was getting hard to breathe. Every attempt came out as a wheeze. He had to make it to the door, he just had to…

He collapsed with a whimper, and then everything went dark.

*Segment Break*

Dyan woke with a whimper as he narrowly escaped a nightmare before it got too bad. He shuddered and was surprised by the feeling of warmth, of wings other than his own wrapped around him. Ihuka. He was used to that now, but he could have sworn he’d fallen asleep with Blue next to him. He wasn’t sure. That afternoon was so hazy to him now…

He dragged himself up and out of the bed, cradling his worst-felt injuries, the deep scratches on his side, that twinged with pain with every breath. Where was Blue? He was worried about him. Why hadn’t he been in bed? Had he gone to do his chores after that horrible attack yesterday? Dyan wasn’t sure, he just really needed to see him, to hold him and know for sure that he was alright.

Tiptoeing downstairs, he was met by Avizon and Orrien in the kitchen. Orrien was washing dishes while staring out of the window, in the direction of the barn. Avizon was sitting at the table, nursing a mug.

“Dyan?” Avizon said with concern. “Are you sure you should be up so soon? You were feverish the last I checked on you.” “I was worried about Blue...” Dyan admitted. “He wasn’t in bed, so. I.I thought it would be alright to look for him.”

Avizon sighed and beckoned him closer, putting a hand against his forehead once Dyan was close enough. Dyan couldn’t help but lean into the coolness. He sighed softly.

“He’s in the barn, I’ll take you over so you can see him and know he’s alright, but then I really think you should get some rest. You’ve a lot of wounds, little bird. That fever isn’t one to ignore...”

Dyan sighed and nodded, hugging his side a little closer. “I think… maybe I have an infection, master, some of my wounds are stinging a lot.” Avizon gently swept the hair out of his face. “Then we’ll change your bandages and have a look. Let’s go and get Blue, he’ll need his done as well.”

“I’ll get everything ready,” Orrien said.

Dyan helped Avizon up and passed him his cane so they could set off. Avizon took Dyan’s blanket from the back of the armchair and put it over Dyan’s shoulders. “It’s a cool wind,” he supplied a little awkwardly. Dyan didn’t mind. He appreciated the care.

They went outside to find Blue, but when Dyan called out there was no reply. Avizon frowned. “Eyes open, Dyan, be alert- just in case.” Dyan gulped and nodded, but his pace quickened. He needed to see Blue. He couldn’t shake his worry, the feeling that something was wrong.

He opened the barn door carefully, and when his eyes settled on a figure on the floor. That familiar mop of blond hair, the pretty feather earrings he wore, the clothes to hide his scars. Dyan saw him laying motionless on the floor.

He screamed in horror but bolted forwards, not caring about any threats that could be lingering. He just wanted to get to Blue. He just had to get to his Blue.

For the record, I apologise for the cliffhanger, but the next part will be up soon.

#cloudwalker series #whump #My writing #collapsing #blue whump #Blue #Dyan #Avizon #Orrien #Ihuka #this suffering is necessary trust meeeee #and it's fun so no regrets on my side

[matsumi101]

For the promts, maybe 367 with Maria Reynolds, modern au?

367. “I didn’t think love existed until I started loving you”

Notes:

> Reader x Maria Reynolds Modern AU

> Anon i love u for this do u know how giddy i am when i wrote the last part hnngh

> Fem!Reader I hope u guys don’t mind some (not so) wholesome lesbeans

> WIFI ANG GOOGLE DOCS HAS BEEN AN ASS IVE BEEN TRYING TO FIX THE ONESHOT BC IT KEPT GETTING PASTED OUT OF ORDER HNNGH

Type: fluff

Warnings: domestic abuse mention, implied sex

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

“Your Honor, the members of the jury find the defendant... guilty.”

You gave a low whistle while the Judge gave the final words, putting up a hand to return your co-counsel’s high-five without even having to look at him. Your smug grin never left your face even after the court was adjourned, only breaking into a more hyper celebration once you were out of the building.

“Fuck yeah, we deserve to celebrate!”

You laughed in agreement. “I couldn’t have pulled this off without you, Alex,” you sighed. Alexander simpered, taking the compliment very well. “Well, what can I say? I’m always up for the challenging ones.” He shrugged his shoulders, pride oozing out of his presence. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were an excellent public attorney par with even Alexander Hamilton himself, but this case had you on your toes for months, even with Alexander’s help, and the outcome was well worth the sleepless nights you shared with your friend.

The topic returned to the celebration. “We should invite everyone to me and Eliza’s place and throw a party because damn we deserve it,” Alexander suggested. You hummed thoughtfully at his offer for a bit before responding. “I’d love that, but can we move that a little later? I wanna celebrate alone with Maria, first,” you pointed out. Alexander pulled an all too knowing smirk, to which you rolled your eyes at.

“I haven’t given her much attention ever since this case came, and I’m sure Eliza’s in the same situation. Our own partners deserve to be pampered after all of this, don’t you think?”

“My Eliza’s fine-”

“Hamilton.”

You crossed your arms and raised a brow at your friend. “Let Eliza share the victory with you, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to listen about how your hard work paid off,” you reasoned out. “And besides, it’s the closest I’ll get to apologizing for stealing you away from her for months.” Alexander laughed at that, getting your point. He pulled out his phone, most likely to share the great news to his fiancé.

“Let’s have the big celebration next weekend, yeah?”

You could tell from the eagerness in his voice that he was excited to come home and spend time with Eliza. “Perfect,” you agreed. You were about to bid farewell, but Alexander was already in call with Eliza and chatting away with unprecedented joy. You chuckled at him and went to your car, dialing a number while you started the engine. It rang a few times before it was picked up.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Washington! Is Maria Reynolds still at work?”

“Oh, Miss Y/N! It’s always a pleasure to talk to you.”

You smiled at this. Martha had always been a caring boss, which is why you recommended Maria to her business when she was looking for a new job. You placed your phone on the holder at the dashboard and set it to speaker while you pulled out of the parking lot. “Maria’s still here, why’d you ask?” Martha asked sweetly. Your smile grew into a more excited one, your plans already playing out in your mind.

“Well you see, I plan to surprise her tonight with her favorite food because I won what probably is my biggest case to date.” Martha gasped and gave you a quick congratulations. “But I still have to buy the things I need. Can you stall her for me? I just need an extra two hours.”

There was a thoughtful pause at the other end of the line. You took your eyes off the road for a split second to check if the call was still ongoing, which it was. “Dear, as romantic as your plan sounds, I don’t think Maria would like being cooped up here for so long,” Martha sighed. “She’s been stressed for the past months, and I don’t think she’s taking your disappearance so well lately, to top off the work she needs to finish today...” Your heart sank at the information. Yes, you were more than aware that you’d been neglecting Maria over the case, more than you’d like, and even if she was understanding enough that you needed to prioritize your slowly rising career, you knew there were unavoidable insecurities that followed her wake.

“I’m going to make it up to her,” you replied, voice steady. “I’m going to smother her with attention for the weeks to come ‘til she gets sick of me.”

Martha laughed heartily at your determination. “So please, can you help me out and give me two hours? I promise It’ll all be worth it,” you pleaded. It didn’t take as long for Martha to answer. “Okay, but I want to see Maria coming to work next Tuesday with an honest smile. I miss seeing her so positive.” You beamed gratefully, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re giving her a long weekend off?” you asked almost too happily.

“Aside from letting her spend time with her favorite woman, I’m sure she deserves the rest for working so hard the past months.”

“Oh Martha, thank you so much! I owe you a lot.”

Any semblance of formalities melted away. “Oh dear, you know I’m a sucker for romantic gestures! I’ll make sure she tells me everything about your night when she gets back to work,” she teased. You giggled, excitement crawling up your body by the minute. You ended the call and finished your groceries as fast as you could, and by the time you got back to your shared apartment the sun was just starting to set. Perfect, you thought. You had more time than anticipated, but you were sure to utilize every second and got to work.

After a dragging day at work, Maria finally found her way back home. She was stuck in the office for a good two hours past her supposed time out due to Martha’s unexpected request to finish some extra paperwork. She would’ve declined it, but the offer of getting a paid day off in return was too good to miss out that even an extra hour long traffic didn’t stop her. She was far too exhausted, both mental and physical, to think of anything else but to crash into the soft sheets of her bed despite her empty stomach begging to be filled up. When she got to her apartment’s door, however, she couldn’t help but stop and look at it.

She didn’t know that today was the day you’d bring the case to the court one last time for a verdict, so all she expected was to come home to an empty apartment, and despite everything still in the same place it felt more barren the past few months. And yet, as she unlocked the door and flicked the lights on, she was greeted with not only a noticeably cleaner living room but also a delectable smell wafting through her nose. It caused her stomach to growl again, and with the new smell filling the place she dropped her bag and headed to the kitchen.

“You’re home!”

Maria’s eyes popped out at the sight. There you were in your sweatpants and loose shirt, sitting across the table with your hand resting atop your intertwined fingers. A large grin splayed across your face, which grew even wider at the sight of her. The table was set up with two plates, a bottle of wine and whiskey (a strange combo, Maria thought), about three dishes, and a bowl of soup accompanied by a smaller bowl of croutons. The food before her was definitely made presentable, and if Maria wasn’t too occupied gawking (and maybe drooling a little) she would’ve pointed out how your outfit didn’t even match up to the setting.

“We won the case,” you told her, your voice laced with softness and excitement.

Maria had to compose herself just enough to answer. “Really?” she squeaked out. She was happy beyond words, both for your success and you finally being there to greet her home for once and having done this seemingly large dinner after months of surviving on leftovers in the fridge and take-outs. You nodded, watching her expression with a smile, but it quickly dropped when you saw her starting to cry. Alarmed, you got off your seat and pulled her to a tight embrace, to which she eagerly returned, taking in the faint scent of the soap you used for your bath. You planted a long kiss on the crown of her head, and the gesture only seemed to make her cry more.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

And there she poured everything out. She missed coming home to your arms every night, but ever since the case you were always either gone in the office at work or holed up in the one at home. The thought made her disappointed, and maybe with a twinge of anger and paranoia, but she had to hold it back. She knew how much work meant to you, and she admired how passionate you were for it. She tried her best not to think too much of it, but the fear of you growing cold towards her scared her to no end, admitting that the effects of her past relationship with James was still affecting her.

You didn’t speak the whole time and let Maria vent it out until she reduced into quiet sobs. You kissed her forehead before pulling away from the hug so you could meet her eye to eye. “I know I’ve been so busy, which is why I’m going to make up for it,” you whispered soothingly. You cupped her face and gently wiped the tears away with your thumbs, and you could see a smile slowly grace her lips that made your heart melt. You then peppered her with short, sweet kisses all over her face, which made her giggle and squirm.

“I missed you so much, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, but I’m not going to let you have dinner with such an uncomfortable outfit.”

Maria followed your eyes to her office attire. “I drew you a hot bath just a few minutes ago, with lots of lavender from our mini garden,” you told her softly, pulling her by the waist and kissing her cheek. Gosh, you missed her so much. Maria sighed as you nuzzled your face on the crook of her neck, already imagining the beautiful smell of the bathroom awaiting her. Unfortunately, she had to pull away from the hug so she could actually get there.

After Maria took her time in a relaxing bath and changed to her own comfortable clothes, you two spent the night together, savoring the full course dinner you made with both of your favorite foods and hers, then surprising her with strawberry mousse, her favorite, for dessert. After that, and an empty bottle of wine, you two went to the couch to cuddle and watch a movie together. Though the film on the television was soon forgotten when you kept on showering Maria with kisses and compliments. Even if she asked you to stop since she genuinely wanted to watch the movie, you only replied to her with,

“Nah, I’m going to spoil you the whole weekend, and for the following weeks to come.”

And you did just that. Your attention was all on Maria day and night, and her heart could never feel so full at the sight of you. You took care of her and she took care of you, too. Of course you respected her boundaries and remained gentle with how you held her, but she knew that with you she was safe. Her initial fears of abandonment were soon thrown out the window. Maria trusted you more than ever, and you made sure to show her that she would never regret that choice.

Maria sighed wistfully, stroking your hair as she stared at the wall. The heavy drapes were drawn shut, preventing the moonlight from entering the dark bedroom. You were nestled on her bare chest, sleeping soundly while you had your arms wrapped protectively around her waist. A smile adorned your lips, and Maria took notice of it when she looked down at you.

You were at peace, contrast to the tired and frustrated expression you constantly seemed to wear while you were working the past months. Your breaths were slow and relaxed, making Maria hold a smile of her own as she studied your features. She brought a hand to your face, and you subconsciously leaned against her touch. She caressed your cheek with a thumb, her gaze trailing over to the bags under your eyes. Without your makeup, it looked much worse, but Maria didn’t care. She loved everything about you, even those eyebags that carried all the success you worked for, and she never felt luckier for having such a caring and passionate girlfriend as you.

“Oh Y/N,” Maria sighed for the nth time that night. “I didn’t think love existed until I started loving you.”

You barely stifled your amused chuckle, making Maria jump slightly at the vibration. “I’m glad to be the one to make you realize that,” you murmured, opening your eyes and ignoring the noise of surprise that she made when you let it be known that you were still awake. You shifted so that you could fully look at Maria. It was dark, but you could still make out her wide eyes that slowly softened. Her hand was still pressed to your face, so you put your own on top of it and moved to gently kiss her palm.

“And you deserve every bit of love, sweetheart.”

The way you said it so sincerely just made Maria absolutely melt, even more so when you pulled up to give her a long, tender kiss. Her hands wandered you, fingers trailing the marks she left on your skin before a hand made its way to your bare back while the other tangled on your already messy hair. When you backed away to breathe, you gave Maria one last peck on the lips before lying on her side and pulling her close.

“You know babe, seeing you like this makes me want to look forward to more of your difficult cases.” Maria laughed when you tiredly groaned in annoyance.

“No. If the next one is anything like the last I’m shoving it to either Alexander or Jefferson. I missed you too much.”

#hamilton #hamilton musical #reader insert #hamilton reader insert #maria reynolds #maria reynolds x reader #hamilton x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fanfiction #my wifi has been an ass istg it's making the parts all messed up

[odd-birds-and-booksellers]

15 for the jolex prompts? 💖

Wide awake waitin' on a goodnight kiss

“You okay? You look tired.” Alex’s voice was croaky as it came through the screen, cracking slightly as Jo manoeuvred the laptop around to see him better. He looked tired, he hadn’t shaved since leaving around two weeks ago and his growing facial hair made him look much older than he truly was. 

“Wow thanks, how did I get so lucky to be married to a charmer like you?” Jo laughs forcing a smile on her face, hoping that with 10,000 miles between them and a crappy internet connection he wouldn’t be able to see how worn down she really was. 

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” Alex growls, rolling his eyes, relaxing a little bit as Jo’s smile came through the grainy screen, something was wrong that much he could tell but he was worried to push her any further, he was concerned if he did she’d retreat away from him and he’d be too far away from her to help. He knew it was a bad idea to go, ever since the opportunity came across his lap he’d had an uneasy feeling about it, it was just bad timing, as a resident Alex would’ve jumped at the opportunity to set up a clinic in Zimbabwe for underprivileged kids and while he was still very passionate about the cause he didn’t feel comfortable up and living his life anymore. It was Jo that had convinced him to go, assuring him she’d be fine, that a month was no time, reminding him it was now or never because he certainly wouldn't have another chance to spend a month away from home anytime soon with a baby on the way. Her insistence in him going was exactly why he hadn’t told her, it’s why the leaflets were stuffed inside his nightstand and not on the counter because he knew she was all for championing his dreams, she’d push him to do it even if it cost her. Which clearly it had he thought while staring at her forlorn face through the screen, the guilt of leaving her alone weighing heavy on Alex’s chest. 

Jo however simply shrugged, avoiding his gaze as she looks down at her pyjama pants pulling at a loose thread hoping the dodgy wifi connection in Zimbabwe wouldn’t show her watery eyes, she wasn’t upset it was just these stupid bloody hormones that had her crying every five minutes. “I’m a surgeon, I'm always tired.” She mutters, even through the screen she could feel Alex's intense gaze making her sink lower into the chair. 

“I mean more tired than usual.” Alex clarifies, narrowing his eyes to get a better look at Jo, even in the darkness of the loft he could see the reflection of her tears against the screen light. 

“I didn’t sleep that well.” Jo shrugs, finding more interest in her Pajama pants as the thread finally comes loose revealing a gaping hole in her trousers that she continues to pick at. She hated this, she just wanted to check he was alive, maybe hear about his day, she didn’t want his constant questioning over skype, she already felt shitty enough. 

“You said that yesterday.”

“Did I?”

“Yes.” Alex deadpans, he knows all Jo’s tricks, knows his wife better then she thinks he does and he knows that this cold quiet nature she’s got going on currently is not from a lack of sleep. “Is there something going on Jo? You know you can tell me whatever it is.”

Jo frowns, her eyebrows creasing as she shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “It’s nothing, Alex...I’m fine.”

“How stupid do you think I am?”

Sighing Jo finally meets his eyes, his face is closer to the screen but it’s not close enough for her, she needs him here and she regrets telling him to go, logically she knew this was his last chance do something so amazing and she wanted that for him, she wanted him to have these opportunities, she loved watching him shine, he always supported her and she wanted to do the same for him, she just hadn’t expected it to be this hard. “I don’t like sleeping in the bed without you.” She admits, a loan tear slipping down her cheek as he fingers trace across his face on the screen. 

“What?”

“That’s it, okay? I hate sleeping without you. The bed's too cold, there's too much space and I wake up every time I hear the door creak, which is a lot because I’m pretty sure our neighbour is a drug dealer exclusively operating from 9 pm to 6 am.” Jo rambles off, her face scrunching up as deflates in the chair, her eyes stinging with more tears as she watches Alex grimace. She felt immediately sick, she knew Alex would wanna come home now, at the very least he’d have Meredith or Link over within the hour to check on her. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sighs, rubbing his eyebrow. 

“Because I didn’t want you to feel bad about working away. I know how excited you are to be out there and I didn’t wanna worry you.” 

“Jo we’ve been through this you have to tell me these things, good or bad, you know that,” Alex mutters, they’d been through this, Jo had been doing so well since her breakdown but one of the main things they’d got out of their joint therapy session was that they’d have to keep being open with her feelings no matter what they were if they wanted their marriage to work, and god never had either one of them wanted something to work more. 

“But I can see that look in your eyes, you feel bad.”

“Because you’re not sleeping.”

“But it’s not your fault.” 

“But it is...I didn’t have to take this job.” Alex growls, he didn’t even want this job, sure it was there was a huge call for his expertise, and there were so many surgeries he’d been able to do in the last two weeks that back home felt like gold dust but it wasn’t worth the price of his wife not sleeping while she was carrying their baby. 

“But you wanted to and I wanted you too. I didn’t know I was gonna react like this.” Jo sighs, resting her head in her hands, she rubs her eyes furiously, it was one month, they were already two weeks in she could last another two weeks, there were children who needed him, who was she to demand his attention. “I should be used to sleeping on my own, I’ve slept in far worse places than our stupidly expensive bed. Alex...are you even listening to me? Alex, what are you doing?” Jo frowns, watching as Alex disappears off-screen, she can hear him shuffling about before he plops down back on the chair, his phone in hand. 

“Looking up the next flight to Seattle,” Alex mutters, not meeting her gaze as he begins to type furiously away, he was coming home, there was no way he could watch his wife cry over facetime for the next two weeks, there was no way he could focus on his patients wondering if Jo was okay or if shes passed out from exhaustion in the middle of the ER. 

“No Alex...Alex I’m fine seriously.” Jo cries, leaning in closer to the screen as if it will make any difference. 

“You’re not sleeping, it's not good for you or the baby and I can’t sit by and accept that…” Alex mumbles looking up he nods towards the growing bump, he can’t really see it but he knows it's there, she’d had a slight curve when he left, a little sign of what he had waiting for him when he came home. 

Jo bites her lip, her hand curling around her tiny bump, the tiny flutters under her fingertips the only reason she’s trying so hard to keep it together. “Alex stop...I’m getting sleep just not a lot and I’m napping in the day anyway.” She’s been forcing herself to sleep, desperate to do what's best for their baby, she was already feeling like she’s a failure as a mother.

“That’s not good enough. You need proper sleep, Jo. You heard Carina after you fainted, you need to take care of yourself properly.” Alex growls, shaking his head.

Jo jerks back, folding her arms over her chest, she glowers down at the screen. “I am Alex do you not think I can take care of my own kid.” She was trying her hardest here, she hated depending on people and even more so she hated admitting that she needed Alex to sleep. 

“I never said that…-”

“I have to go...Love you.” Jo cuts him off, already rising from her chair as she reaches towards the laptop. She’s not angry at him, not really, she’s just angry that he can see right through even from 10,000 miles away. 

“Jo wait…” Alex grumbles, as the screen goes black, it’s just the hormones he knows but somehow they seem far more intense here then they did at home, sighing, he pulls out his phone shooting her quick text before heading back to work.

 I love you more...stay safe

It's a two days letter when Jo returns home after what was one of the most excruciatingly busy shifts she's ever had, she feels like she could drop at any minute. She hadn’t been able to get hold of Alex during her lunch break and the lack of contact didn’t help to settle her anxious heart but she was just hoping she was exhausted enough to sleep. Flopping down on the bed, she cries out when her head smacks against something hard.

Wincing, Jo squeezes her eyes shut, hearing a voice she knows all to good grumbling in pain, slowly she peels one eye open to see Alex, stupid beard and all, tucked under the covers rubbing his forehead. 

“What are you doing here?” Jo mumbles, throwing her arms around him, instantly forgetting the searing pain in her head as Alex's scent washes over her.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Alex grumbles, his face scrunched up as he nestles his face into her neck, his arms wrapping around her waist.

Jo pulls back her eyes, scanning him over making sure he is really here and not just a sleep-deprived hallucination, suddenly it dawns on her that if he’s here, then he’s not in Africa saving the tiny humans he’d promised to save. “But the tiny humans who need life-saving treatment?” 

“There's plenty of doctors out there to help. It’s up and running now. I've trained plenty of idiots, now they can train the next lot of idiots.” Alex grumbles, leaning back against the bed, pulling Jo down with him. He’d got his affairs in order pretty much the minute Jo had ended their call, it had taken him a few hours to sort his replacement but less than 24 hours after she’d hung up he was on a flight home. 

“You shouldn’t have come home.”

“I wanted to be here, My work is important but nothing is more important than you and the baby. I wanna be here, I need to be here.” Alex mutters, nestling closer into her neck, pulling her closer into his arms, his eyes fluttering shut as he guides her down to lay against the pillows. 

“If you’re sure,” Jo mumbles, Alex presence having an immediate effect on her tired state, she couldn’t even bring herself to change clothes, the warmth and safety he provided making her eyes flutter shut 

“I am.” He mumbles sleepily, pressing a row of kisses down Jo’s neck, his beard scratching against her skin, a reminder that he’s here, home in their bed. “My dad missed everything growing up. I don’t wanna be like him.” That was Alex’s biggest fear, becoming his father the main reason he’d said no to setting up the clinic, it was time he could never get back but Jo had been adamant now was the time to go, he’d never be able to take this much time away from home once the baby arrived. 

“You’re nothing like him, Alex.” Jo sighs, one hand running through his messy curls as he hums in content.  “Setting up a medical clinic for underprivileged children abroad is not the same as walking out on your family,” Jo mutters, humming as he snuggles closer, his head resting on her chest. “You are a good man Alex Karev and you’re gonna be a wonderful father,” Jo mumbles pressing a kiss to his head, she feels her body finally relaxing for the first time in two months as Alex’s body warmth envelops her. 

“You’re going to be an amazing mother, and I never meant to insinuate that you weren’t looking out for our baby.” His hand drifts down the edges of Jo’s top in search of the tiny curve that had been there when he left two weeks ago. “The way you look after peo- What the hell is this?” Alex exclaims just as Jo was drifting off, sitting up immediately his eyes scanning across her body, his forehead creased as he pointed towards her torso, pulling at the oversized sweatshirt she had on. 

“Mhmm your sweatshirt?” Jo mumbles meekly giving him a half-smile as she sheepishly tries to twist away from his glance, he never really cared if she wore his clothes if anything he liked it but he had one rule, wear anything but his Iowa wrestling shirt, it was fading fast and he loved it but then again so did Jo. It wasn’t her fault then one thing she couldn’t wear was also her favourite. 

“No, I mean this….what the heck I SAID NO GROWING WITHOUT ME.” Alex grumbles, dipping down to address Jo’s burgeoning bump, rolling up his sweatshirt, his hands trace across her skin, marvelling at how much had changed since he’d been away. 

Jo grins sitting up, so he could see how pronounced her stomach had become, she laughs, reaching out to cup his cheek. “Erm Alex...you know it's a good thing that he or she is growing right...that's what we want a nice healthy baby.” She mumbles, resting one hand on his as she smiles down at the bump, she may have been having a bit of rough time lately but she’d been making sure their baby had the best, she’d even forced herself to drink a few kale smoothies. 

“Yeah but they didn’t have to grow this much...what did you eat? Everything you could find?” Alex exclaims, still talking at the bump when he feels a light smack against the back of his head, leaning up he gives Jo a cheeky smile while she pouts at him. “Ow….I was kidding you look great.” He smiles leaning to give her light peck, savouring the feeling. It was good to be home.

“Mhmm nice save…..oh oh.” Jo smiles against his lips as he begins to pepper tiny kisses all over her face making her squeal. 

“Is that?” Alex's eyes widen as he pulls back, he feels another light tap against his hand that was still pressed against Jo’s stomach.

“Yeah...yeah...here move your hand.” Jo smiles brightly, taking his hand she tracks their little one's movements as more excited kicks spread out across her stomach. “Looks like someone is glad to have you home.”

“Not half as glad as I am.” Alex beams, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he leans down pressing a light kiss against Jo’s bump. “I love you and I love you” he whispers tenderly as his eyes meet Jo’s again. 

“I love you more.” Jo hums softly, a sparkle in her eyes as she settles back against the pillows.

“Jo…” Alex whispers, moving up so he’s face to face with Jo, his hand trailing across her cheek, moving the hair that’s fallen across her face to behind her ear. A small smile gracing his face as she mumbles something incoherent, her eyes fluttering shut as she drifts off, the exhaustion hitting her full force now she was wrapped in the safety of Alex's arms.  “The truth is I can’t sleep when you’re not beside me either.” 

Whoops, I dropped the ball with how long it took me to post this, I’m so sorry but I do hope you enjoy it. Also if you like my one-shots you can find my prompt lists at the bottom of my master post. 

#jolex #alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson #greys anatomy #greys abc #greysanatony #greys #justin chambers #camilla luddington #jolex fanfiction #jolex fanfic

[sea-salted-wolverine]

Okay so last week was a shitkicker and was literally so bad I spent the better part of the week trying to delude myself into thinking it was a good day. Like, we're talking, "the sun is shining and I'm here to see it so today is a good day" and "I'm having a bad day- fuck me I am not haveing a bad day- I'm having a good day- I'm not having a bad day". Denial is a powerful tool for mental health, apply judiciously. I get that everyone on earth is kinda having a shitty year but it feels like things just kinda escalated in my little corner

The 7th had a huge snow storm that brought traffic to a stand still. No one could leave the house and university class was online anyway. Batshit customer demanded to pick up her gear anyway. I drove in because I was the only person with keys to the shop that could get to the building. It took me a solid 2 hours going 15mph on the highway. The snow in the parking lot was up past the fenders of my truck. Crazy lady gets 10 out of 18 of her survival suits back but the other 8 still have holes in them because our only repair tech is also the only one who answers the phone or runs the computer or handles customers or cleans or disinfects anything or stores gear. I'll give you one guess who that person is.

Did you guess me? Good for you. Fun fact this was not the case in October.

Crazy lady swans off through the snowed in parking lot and because she cant find the exit, blasts straight through the ditch and onto the road.

I say fuck it and leave. I've been at work for 2 hours. I have made 24 dollars for my trouble. It takes me another hour to get home.

The 8th is Saturday and I'm supposed to be at work. No one can drive. There was another 10 8nches of snow last night. I say fuck work and go to dig out the plow truck. The canopy over the plow truck collapses as I walk out to clear the snow of it.

I do not scream.

My partner and I get the truck running and go plow people out of their driveways and then go do the shop.

We come back home and the heater doesn't work. We just spent most of last week frantically trying to limp the thing along because no heat at -20°F is in a word fucking unpleasant. At least now its 40 degrees warmer because if the snowstorm. We take it apart again. The house smells like diesel. The house smells like exhaust. The house is not cold because the wood stove can keep up at 20 above zero but it won't keep us through the winter.

There is no saving the oil heater. We need a new one.

Its 730 and neither of us have eaten. I start rice in the pressure cooker so I can throw a tasty bite on top and call it dinner and that dies too. Explosively.

Dinner is half cooked rice and microwaved curry.

Sunday is spent finding a way to stretch our increasingly thin budget to buy a new heater. Between us we actually have 2275$ and we will still cover the mortgage. Somehow. All our Christmas gifts will be hand made this year. The next thing that breaks will stay broken.

Monday, power outages due to snow storm. No wifi, no zoom meetings. Another 8 inches of snow. This is now more snow than my city gets for the full year.

My boss calls sobbing. The dog died. Joey, an 11 year old, 130lb mastiff with a tumor the size of a football on his liver has been her constant companion for at least 8 years. The pandemic has confused the bejesus out of him because while he loves the lock down and going out to play every hour or so he doesnt really like the concept of strangers in masks. Hes a guard dog and doesnt understand that men in masks coming into the shop are not here to kill mom they're wearing masks so they don't kill mom.

Mondays the shop is closed anyway and I spend it installing the new heater. It doesn't quite fit in the space the old heater came out of but its warm.

Tuesday, I go to work, everyone cancels class, I once again gently explain to a regular that eugenics is bad. I would like to curse him out. I cant. He drops a grand on scuba gear and leaves, talking about how great his trip to Mexico will be.

I do not scream.

A friend calls to ask how I'm doing. Not great. Yea, her niether. She asks if I want to go out to the backcountry with her over the weekend. I explain that my leg physically does not move and I'm downing copious amounts of advil to remain upright. The doctor sent me in for an MRI but has not yet called back. Plus I'm supposed to go to Valdez for the weekend and actually go diving. That I can do with limited use of my leg.

She says yikes, take it easy, take care of yourself, I love you.

I say, yikes, I'm tired of taking it easy, I wanna play, I love you too.

Hit me up if your plans open up and we can do something gentle on your leg. She says.

God yes. The cold woods away from people sounds like paradise. I dont even care that it will cause me rending physical pain to get there. I need a break.

Its Wednesday. I go to school. I get pulled over. Miraculously I dont get a ticket. I'm white female and conventionaly attractive, maybe not so miraculous. I rolled through a stop sign but I'm pretty sure I couldn't afford a ticket.

I get a text in class. One of the instructors who works with the dive shop has tested positive for covid. I haven't seen the man in 2 months. I needed a spare instructor but he was nowhere to be found. But hey, evidently that's a good thing.

I go to work. I vacillate between doing the job a 4 people and having nothing to do.

I go to the grocery store because I misjudged my last monthly grocery run and even though I'm increasing my exposure I'm out of cheese and tea damnit.

The store is packed. Pandemic who?

My partner and I haven't had a date nite in a while and this week has been shitty. I want a nice dinner. I pick up a couple boxes of the carton sushi which isnt terrible and is about as nice as I can justify on the new budget. I grab a gallon of milk and a few other things. I forgot my wallet in the truck and the cashier is chill and sets my stuff aside while I grab it.

I pay and take my stuff home and realize I left one of my bags at the store. No cheese or tea for me.

Thursday. 10am my phone goes off with an emergency alert. The govoner has grown a spine in light of recent elections and is instituting a voluntary lock down. My state has 500 new cases a day. That might not sound like a lot but theres only 300,000 people in Alaska and we've got poor medical infrastructure.

Unfortunately Alaska is full of Alaskans and nobody can tell us what to do. Nothing changes. 7pm rolls around and I'm teaching scuba classes in the pool.

I load a few hundred pounds of scuba gear into the back of my truck. In a wet wetsuit. In the snow. In a fabric facemask. 6 feet apart. In the pool.

I dont get paid for pool time.

Over the summer we had 6 dive masters including me, all big burly dudes, much better suited to picking things up. Its November and I'm the only one.

The kids I'm teaching are going to Hawaii. They're 10 and 13 and so wildly excited about breathing underwater its beautiful to watch. And they're traveling to an island. In a pandemic.

Friday.

Unload scuba gear so it doesnt get stolen out of the back of my truck while I'm at class. Were doing a make up lab today. Hey of the five student in my class only one of us has covid so theres that.

My boss calls an let's me know that shes left for Valdez without me. If I'd like to make an 8 hour drive by myself in a snowstorm I'm welcome to follow.

I'm in class till an hour before shop closing. I'm not driving across town so I can run on the open sign for half an hour.

The shop stays closed on Friday.

Saturday.

I explained to everyone we had business with that the shop would be closed over the weekend and Friday. I planned on being in Valdez. Hell I canceled plans to be in Valdez.

I open the shop and immediately field calls about why we werent open. I start to explain about the Valdez trip and logistical difficulties and then I realize that shes not mad about that. The woman was here before I opened early this morning. We have never been open that early. The hours are on the door.

A regular comes in. Hes also confused as to why I'm here.

Sunday finds me curled up in bed, reluctant to leave. Getting out of bed has not played out well for me recently.

A friend comes over to chat with my partner about specialist rifle parts. This isnt that wierd, he works at a gun shop and they've been discussing upgrading my partners current rifle set up.

He is wearing a full Scottish kilt. Red tartan. Looks very lovely.

I make zucchini bread and my proportions are a little off because I have too much zucchini so it's a little over moist but it's good. I'm recovering from an asskicker of a week and next week will be better.

Monday morning:

Baby brother has covid

Dads getting the results of his rapid test tonight.

Mom isnt getting tested because she says she doesnt have symptoms but that's not the fucking point mom.

So, I'm not going home for thanksgiving. I'm not diving in Valdez. I'm not skiing backcountry.

I'm not sick. I'm not flat broke yet. I dont have a ticket. I have a job. I have people who care about me. Im managing my physical and mental health as best I can. Im just fucking exhausted.

#vent post #writing #holy fuuuuuck #2020

[cilliansaccent]

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 1

Hello everyone!! I’ve finally gotten around to posting a fanfic of Cillian, below you will find details of the first chapter. It is not a READER x CILLIAN fic, I am not a fan of writing those types and find it too tedious. So, you will be given a premade character. But you are most welcome to imagine yourself as the girl ;)

Please leave a like or any comments below on ways to improve, please be kind but you are welcome to be critical! I’m open to ideas and fixing up mistakes. Also, sharing would be amazing!!

Note, PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!! 

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 4,080

Warnings: None.

Date: March 2016

Chapter Name: The Internship of a Lifetime

Brief Chapter Outline: Gabrijela leaves her parents in Sydney after a big argument about her Internship. She arrives at Heathrow tired and restless, only to be approached by a man…

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

The drive to the airport was long and quiet. Gabrijela watched out the window of the car, watching the houses and the cars drive by. Thinking of the trip ahead. She had worked quite hard the last couple of years, to prove herself to her teacher and to her family. Especially to her family who were the harshest critics of her very own life. But at least her teacher was proud, she loved the portfolio Gabrijela had pulled together in the final year of her studies. And she would bring it with her, to show to the new teacher she will have in London. 

The last few weeks were the worst for her, constant arguing with her mother and father, over this trip. It hurt her the most, she thought she would have made them proud. But no, it seemed it made them angry. She shut her eyes, it didn’t matter now, she made it this far and she was going to enjoy the year on the set of a TV Show, learning how to be a fashion designer, how to create and tailor for actors and actresses. It made her giddy with excitement. It wasn’t long before the airport came into view, her father pulled into the multilevelled parking and parked. They were four hours early, so they killed time by walking around and eating. Chatter was light, anything to keep her parents distracted by the thought of their only daughter flying away. But, the time came around and they headed to the departures gate. “Please, be safe.” Her mother, Liljana, frowned, hugging her daughter tightly. Gabrijela held her close, she would miss them a lot, despite the rocky relationship that has sprung between them. “If anything happens, call us right away, no matter the time. Don’t do anything that will cause you harm--” “Dad, I’ll be fine. I swear. I’m twenty-five, I’m not a child anymore.” Gab cut her stern-looking father off. He sucked in a breath, “Don’t you--” “Nikola,” Her mother snapped, “Our daughter will be late.” Her father sighed, tears lining his eyes as he hugged her tightly. “Please, please take care. You know we love you.” He murmured. “I know. I love you, I love you both.” She pulled her mother into the hug and they held each other for a bit. Gabrijela pulled away, tears falling down her cheeks. She spoke in her language, Croatian, “I love you.” She had said and picked up her bags and headed to the gate, she turned to wave goodbye to her parents before she set off on the long flight.

23 Hours Later…

It was 9am when she had landed at Heathrow Airport. The flight was long and exhausting, she couldn’t sleep the whole way, she never could sleep on aeroplanes anyway. She rubbed her eyes as she lugged her massive suitcase and a smaller one with a heavy handbag. Once out of customs, she stood in the middle, checking her paperwork. She was told someone would pick her up and take her to her apartment in London. She looked around, she hadn’t seen anyone holding a sign or… seemed to be the type to be picking up anyone. “Great.” She groaned, she had no way of contacting the number, she had to get herself a sim card of some sort and access to wifi. She rubbed her forehead, she was gross all over, sleep-deprived and annoyed. “Hello, are you Gabrijela?” An accented male voice got her to turn around. The man was absolutely stunning, sharp-angled jaw, piercing blue eyes, thousands of freckles… Cillian was handsome on TV but in person… She was blown away. She didn’t see he held out a hand, and she shook herself back to reality. “H-Hi, yes that’s me.” She took his hand, warm and strong. “I’m Cillian, I believe you were expecting someone else.” He said, his smile was literally breathtaking. “Uh, yeah. Allison, she was uh, supposed to pick me up.” She nodded, setting down her small carry on luggage. “Yeah, she’s been quite sick the last few days. So, I took up on the offer to pick you up.” He explained. Gabrijela felt her heart skip a beat, he offered? “Aw, thank you. That’s, that’s super sweet of you.” She flashed him a grin. “Always. Come on, let’s get you out of here. You look exhausted.” He grabbed the biggest luggage and her carry on. “Oh no, let me carry that.” She started to grab it. “Don’t worry, it’s no bother.” He said. Another smile made her blush. Together they walked towards the elevator. It was nice outside, a little on the cooler side but she liked the cold weather despite it being almost summer here. They squished into the elevator, moving as far back as possible as people crammed in. She was crushed against the body of the Irish man, a soft chuckle reverberated through him. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the ride up felt like forever. A ride she didn’t want to end, she thought. But, like all things, it came to an end and they stepped out. They came to his car, a BMW of some sort. She whistled, “Favourite car ever.” She said as she helped him stuff her bags into the back. “Yeah, I love it. Fast and comfortable and a touch of luxury.” Cillian said as he held open the door for her. “Thank you.” She hastily got in, the interior was leather and dark. And smelled like… the ocean and a hint of forest. Cillian got in and started up the car, it came alive with a low hum. “Do you have the address of where you are staying?” “Oh yes, here I’ll read it out,” Gab said and read out the address. “Huh, they found a nice place.” He punched in the address and pulled out of the parking place. Jazz music played softly, she never listened to this type of genre. “So, how was the flight?” He asked. “Long. Very long. Seven hours from Sydney to Singapore then had under an hour to hop on to the next flight. Thirteen hours.” She replied, “I didn’t sleep, can’t. Watched some movies, tried to read but failed. I had a pounding headache and the guy couldn’t stop going to the toilet.” “Shit sounds bad. But don’t worry, you are not expected in the studio in three days, so you have time to recover.” He said. “Oh really? Do you… know what I’ll be doing?” Gabrijela asked, but then thought it was a stupid question. “Ah, that was silly to ask. It states in my paperwork.” She laughed. “No question is stupid. You’ll be working with our designer, helping her out in organising what we are to wear, the styles, colours. All that fashion stuff. Allison is a wonderful woman, an expert. You’ll learn a lot from her.” Cillian said proudly, “She works with all of us actors, tailoring the suits and dresses to such perfection.” The way he spoke about Allison made Gabrijela nervous. He seemed fond of the woman, and by how he was dressed during the show… God, she was going to be greatly challenged. And she would work her ass off the coming months, no complaints. She would do it. “She seems like a lovely person, I can't wait to start.” She clasped her hands to her chest, looking over at the older man. “As we all, Allison seriously loved your portfolio, and she had shown us. You have a fantastic idea and creativity.” Cill said. Gabrijela blushed bright red. “She showed you… my portfolio? From University?” She whispered. Her nerves spiked, and worry set in. “Oh, she was very impressed. Couldn’t hold back. Hey.” His voice softened, she looked at him again, they had stopped at a set of lights. He faces her, “I can see that doubt in your eyes. Don't be fearful, you should be proud of your work. It’s yours to claim and your creative noggin here made. Don’t let others cloud your thoughts.” He said, his blue gaze intense yet caring. She sucked in a breath and they moved on, “I guess so. It’s just… you all are so talented and amazing and… Gah, it’s scary. I didn’t even think I’d get this. It’s been a dream long coming for me to work on an amazing set with equally amazing people.” Gabrijela admitted. “We are just regular people who must play an act. That’s all.” He let out a light chuckle. “Still, for me, it’s so cool. I thought I’d be good at acting and tried to do a play during school, uh yeah, nah. I messed up majorly on the first night of the play. Still remember it.” She laughed shyly. “Wardrobe malfunction and I forgot my lines. All of them. Worst stage fright ever.” “No.” He said in disbelief. “Yes! In front of eight hundred students and staff. I refused to continue on after that. Gave that shit up and went into a design class where I hid from the world, scribbling away my thoughts and feelings.” They both laughed. “Well, I think you picked the best path. You’re here, a bright, creative mind amongst us. Welcome aboard.” He exclaimed. His laugh was a blessing to hear, it made her skin prick with goosebumps. She admired this man beside her for a long while, she had seen him in every movie he played. She was fascinated by how he worked, how easily he stepped into his given role so perfectly… And here she was, in his car, laughing and talking. Still, right now, it felt like a dream. A comfortable silence fell between them, and she watched the scene outside. Old buildings began to turn to more flashier ones as they made their way into the heart of London. Cillian spoke up and pointed out interesting buildings and told some facts, she listened intently, she would come back to these areas to check them out. Especially the Tower of London castle. “The Tube here is good. Fast but can get very packed during peak times, and very stuffy.” He said as they came into a pretty neighbourhood. “I heard that the train line is good.” Gab nodded. It wasn't long when he pulled up beside a three levelled building. The whole street was lined with these white, pretty buildings. “Here we are.” He said and got out, she pulled herself out and groaned. Stretching, she said, “This is a really pretty area.” “Quiet, and safe. Close to the station and to the shops, five minutes down the road you’ll come to a food market.” He said, pulling out her luggage with a grunt. She grabbed her smaller ones, “That's good. I might need to go down to it after this to grab some, and I need to get a sim card for my phone.” She said as they trudged up the stairs to the large wooden door. “I’d love to help you out if you want?” He asked as they unlocked the door. “Oh, sure. I’d like that.” She smiled up at him. “This floor and the one above is occupied, but the top-level is yours.” He said they both looked at the stairs. “Oh god. Why don’t you let me help you? My bag is heavy, I don't want you to hurt yourself.” She said. “Ah, fine fine. Want me to go first or you?” He asked. “Maybe you.” She said. Together they fought with the luggage, huffing and puffing up three flights of narrow, steep stairs. Once at the top they both sat down, laughing. “What is in this thing?” He ran a hand through his hair, his smile lopsided. “Clothes, shoes, a bag, girly items.” Gabrijela giggled, moving beside him. “Uh-huh. Come on, let's get you settled in.” He said and got up, he held out a hand to her. She took it and was pulled to her feet. “You do the honours.” He handed her a set of keys. She took them and unlocked the door to her apartment. The first thing they were greeted was the open space, to the right was a two-seater dark grey couch and a small flat-screen TV mounted to the wall above a fireplace. Behind the couch was a double bed with a million cushions and dark tones for sheets. Further was the balcony that overlooked the street. To the left was a small modern kitchen with a wall separating the rooms, it was designed in a way where a square cut out of the wall was turned into like a breakfast bar with two stools. Beside the kitchen was a generously large bathroom with a bathtub build into the wall equipped with a showerhead. The colours were dark browns, greys and splashes of copper and silver and greens in the decor. “Wardrobe is under the bed and in the dresser here.” Cillian patted the dark wood piece that was set beside the bathroom door. “London apartments are quite small but small design aspects use space very effectively.” “This is… Wow, I didn't expect it to be so… Lovely.” She touched the fluffy throw on the bed. It felt like luxury. She sunk down on the bed, bouncing on it. She kept looking around. “You’ll be calling this your home in the coming months, so get as comfy as you like.” Gabrijela sucked in a breath, “Thank you.” She said, her emotions were all over the place, happiness, fear, excitement. “What for?” Cillian asked, sitting beside her. “For all of this. For this opportunity.” Her eyes shimmered with utter joy. “Don’t thank me. Thank the ones who got to make this happen.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I will, but to you especially. I’ve uh, I’ve always admired you in films you act in. And I absolutely love Peaky Blinders, it's a fantastic show and I am truly excited to work with you and everyone else.” She said in a single breath, her cheeks heating. He let out a soft laugh, “I could say the same, as I said before, we are delighted to have you on the team.” She felt so shy around him, his eyes, his smile, everything about him made her feel so giddy. He truly was one kind of a man, and her love and admiration only grew more for him. “Well, I had an idea. You give me a list of what you need, and you get yourself comfortable and shower or whatever.” Cillian stood up. “Oh no, no, no. I can’t do that. I’ve already taken up so much of your time today, I think it’s best if I just go myself.” She stood up quickly, shaking her head. “Please, it’s no bother, really. You’ve had a long trip,” he grabbed notepad on the dresser and a pen from his pocket and handed it to her. “List, please.” She sighed, “God, fine.” She huffed and scribbled down some things she’d like. “There you go, Mr Pushy.” Cillian tucked the paper into his jacket pocket, “I’ll see you soon.” He said and left. Gabrijela waited before she let out an excited cry. She did a little dance and laughed, “Oh thank you God for this opportunity!” She unpacked some stuff, mostly her… private items before she grabbed a clean pair of ripped jeans and an oversized sweatshirt before she went into the shower. It felt good to bathe, washing off all the crap and stress away. Once out, she resumed unpacking until Cillian rang the doorbell. She allowed him up and gasped when he came in with four bags. “I definitely did not write that much stuff down! Cillian!” She gave him a playful push once he set the bags down. “Well, I wanted to buy more than just lettuce and a pack of noodles.” He said. “Let me make lunch for you.” She snorted, “No. I refuse. Please.” She grabbed his hands, “Cillian, you really shouldn’t do this.” “Gabrijela.” He now held her hands between his, and his gaze was bright and caring. “I want to do this because I want to. Out of the goodness in my heart.” The look he had made her back down, he really wanted this. “Alright, Cillian. Make my lunch then.” She pulled back and helped him unpack the bags. She left him be as she finished up unpacking her stuff. She set up her laptop and portable music box before she sent out a facebook message to her mother to ease her worrisome mind. Cillian had even gotten her a sim card, and she was so paying him back for it. It wasn’t long when her father called up on Skype. She chatted with him in Croatian for a bit before she said her goodbye. “Your dad?” Cillian called from the kitchen, he was well into cooking, the air smelled a bit burnt. “Yeah, gotta check in with the family. They're the most worried, this is the first time I’ve ever gone overseas alone.” She replied, scrolling through Facebook. “Is this your first time overseas?” He asked. “Nah, the first two was with my parents and this one by myself.” She smiled, sitting back on the couch and watching him through the opening in the wall that looked into the kitchen. He was busy stirring something. “Where did you go in the first two?” He moved to grab what looked like salt. “Croatia visited family and the usual touristy stuff. Was an awesome experience.” She said. “Oh yeah? I’m guessing you’ve learned how to speak it since you spoke Croatian with your dad just then.” “Mhm. I took a course before I just practised at home with my parents, I’m able to hold a good conversation now.” She said with pride in her tone. “Incredible. I used to know French a while back, but I’ve forgotten it all.” He chuckled. “Oh yeah? How’d you get into that?” She got up and sat on one of the stools, watching him. “My mum is a French teacher, so as a boy I learned it through her. Once an adult, I kinda stopped as I really had no more use for it.” He explained. “Didn’t want to sing it either?” Gabrijela teased. He snorted, “Definitely not. You know about the band stuff?” He turned to her. “Kinda, a little. Did you enjoy it?” She asked. “Yeah, I did. Played the guitar, sang a little. It was a good time, but not something I wanted to pursue further.” He shrugged, “A good filler in my younger years.” “Awesome. You do seem like the band kinda guy.” She folded her arms on the table. “Yeah? My brother says that to me, asks me if I would ever pick it back up again.” He turned back to the pot boiling, stirring it. “I see, but I think acting suits you better.” She nodded. “Huh, thanks. I get that a lot.” Cillian mused as he stirred the pot before turning the electric stovetop off. She rolled her eyes, “So cocky.” She huffed. Cillian flashed her a grin before he set out two bowls and poured in the noodle soup. “Chicken soup with carrots chunks. Easy to make and really good in energising the body.” He said, pouring her a glass of strawberry cordial and one for himself. “You know, my mum makes the same thing. But more for if your sick, or whenever shes in the mood. Let's see how good Mr Murphy is.” She straightened her back, picking up the soup. “Oh, God.” He laughed nervously, “Be gentle on me.” She could see the playful glint in his eyes as she tasted the steaming soup. She took a couple of spoonfuls before she slowly set the spoon down, eyes narrowed and had a thoughtful look on her face. “Hm,” She hummed, rubbing her chin, “Salt… Good. Enough. Temperature… Just right… The taste…” She paused, eyes flicked up to his. He waited, head tilted to the side. His smile began to grow. “Delicious!” She cried happily, “It’s fantastic, Cillian. Almost like home, but very close.” “Oh!” He let out a sigh of relief, clearly playing along with her, “Good, good. I’m not really a fantastic cook, I’m most skilled in lasagna or some type of soup. Or a good ham and cheese toast.” Gab giggled, “Thanks, Cillian. It’s really good.” She said, continuing to eat the soup. “I made enough to last today and tomorrow. I’d like to take you out for dinner tomorrow night if you like.” He brought the spoon to his lips, taking a sip. “To dinner? Tomorrow?” She blinked, looking surprised. “I-I mean, only if you want, I don't want to--” He started. “No, I’d love to go to dinner with you. What time?” She asked. “Around seven? Will that be okay?” “Perfect. Gives me time to explore tomorrow, and maybe find an outfit.” She said, focusing on her soup. Her damn blush wouldn't go away. “Want me to tag along? I know good areas for shopping.” He offered, gazing at her once more. “I--” She shut her mouth, he was doing so much for her today. He picked her up, brought her here, bought food, cooked, and he was going to take her out tomorrow night… “Alright, but you are not allowed to pay for anything!” She said sternly, “Or I will make sure you rip your pants on set.” He held up his hands in a truce like fashion, “Fine, fine. I will agree to these terms.” “Good! But I may or may not wake up later, I’m running on zero hours of sleep.” She hissed, finishing her soup. “Oh yeah, gotta let you have your beauty sleep.” He said as he collected the empty bowls. She rolled her eyes, making a face, “Girls gotta sleep. It’s why we stay so pretty.” She flicked back her hair, letting out a huff. She got up and helped him dry up and clean up despite his demands to go rest. She didn’t like to sit around and let others do the work, she always wanted to help out no matter what. After that, Cillian wiped his hands and walked with her back to the small living space, “I should get going, but before I do…” He grabbed the notepad and scribbled something down, “My number and my address. I don’t live far from here, almost a twenty-minute walk. Just some information.” He gave her a cute smile. “Ah, thank you. I’ll make sure to save that. I’ll text you later so you have whatever new number I got.” Gabrijela said, taking the paper and tucking it into the front pocket of her hoodie she wore. “Also, thanks for getting the sim card. I’ll set it up in a moment.” “No worries. I’ll see you around midday, yeah?” He opened the door. “Yeah, see you then. Thank you for everything.” And she went towards him and hugged him. He let out a soft ‘Oh’ and his arms wrapped around her. “I love hugs,” His voice dropped to a soft murmur. “Same.” She said equally as quiet. They both chuckled and pulled away. “Rest well, Gabrijela.” He had this look in his eyes as if he didn’t want to go so soon. But he turned away, and she watched him walk down the stairs. She closed the door before she went to the balcony and peered over. Any moment, and he was out of the door. He paused and looked up, waving and giving her a wink before he got into his car. His head disappeared in the car and he drove off. Gabrijela let out a sigh, gripping the iron rails. She looked down the road, the forever trail of white apartments and the soft hum of traffic and the occasional cry of people calling to each other. Was this all real? She thought as she stared up at the grey sky. The air was cool, and it smelled like rain was going to fall soon. She loved the rain. She smiled to herself, a dream come true. She was here. Safe. Had a wonderful with a man she admired, and whom she will go shopping with. Her heart fluttered as she went back inside to lay down and set up her phone. But she didn't get a chance to text Cillian as sleep and exhaustion overtook her body and she was out like a light.

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #fanfiction

[xxx-cat-xxx]

New Beginning

While recovering from the injuries sustained during Civil War, Tony becomes addicted to morphine. In typical Stark fashion, he decides to quit cold turkey and deal with the withdrawal symptoms on his own. Fortunately, Bruce won’t let that happen.

As requested, here is the tumblr version! This is an AU in which Bruce returns to earth after Civil War. Pepper and Tony still haven’t made up, but everything else is roughly the same.

TW for mentions of drug abuse. Angst and Whump and lots and lots of Hurt/Comfort in the second half. Thanks to @whumphoarder and @sallyidss for beta reading.

——————————————–

The front doors of the compound open with a bit of a squeak. It leaves Bruce to wonder whether no one has realised, or whether the two remaining permanent inhabitants simply don’t care enough to fix it.

“Welcome, Dr. Banner,” FRIDAY greets him.

Bruce startles a bit at the sudden voice. He’s visited the compound quite a few times during the three months since his return to earth, but it’s easy enough to forget the existence of AIs when his own shabby apartment still doesn’t have a working WiFi connection.

“Hello, FRIDAY,” he replies. “Uhm, who all is home?”

Initiating a conversation with the AI makes him nearly as uncomfortable as initiating one with an actual human being, but it would take the better part of an hour to check all the rooms of the compound, and he’s not keen on experiencing the despondent feeling he would get upon seeing most of them empty.

“Only Boss. Colonel Rhodes left for Florida for his long-term treatment and is not expected to return before next week. Boss arrived home from his weekly meeting with Peter Parker at noon and has been in the upstairs bar ever since.”

“Could you let him know that I’m here? He should have gotten my message, we, uhm, had plans.”

“Of course, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce is looking forward to “doing crazy science” (Tony’s words) with his friend. Most of his time nowadays is spent alternating between attending yoga classes, seeing a therapist, and trying to establish a routine for himself. Returning to a planet where a year has passed for everyone else, just to find that his only friends had not only split up, but done so in a violent way, wasn’t exactly helpful for getting resettled on earth.

Bruce sets down his backpack in his own room. He has never gotten a chance to use it, but he is touched by its existence, by the fact that Tony, while planning the compound, seems to have been so sure he’d return one day. He changes into a comfortable sweater and grabs a lab coat. Now it’s onto science.

“FRIDAY, is Tony already in the lab?” he questions.

“I am afraid Boss is busy and won’t be able to join you for the experiment,” she reports.

“What?” Bruce looks up in confusion.

“I said that Boss is busy and-”

“No, I got you, FRIDAY, just…”

This is weird. Tony has been looking forward to this nearly as much as Bruce, as he was the one who first suggested measuring the half-life of the alien element that Bruce accidently brought with him from Sakaar.

“Uhm, he’s still in the bar?” Bruce asks tentatively.

“Yes, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce waits for an elaboration, but none is forthcoming. He really misses JARVIS. The old AI would always find a way to let him know what was going on, even if Tony had instructed him otherwise.

Bruce makes his way to the upstairs bar, getting lost only once along the way in the huge building. He finds Tony sitting slumped over at the counter, head resting on his folded arms. There is no drink next to him, no tablet in his hand, no rock music playing.

“Tony?”

The engineer turns his head a little when Bruce sits down on the stool next to him, but the hood of his sweatshirt is keeping his face in the shadows.

“I, uhm, hi,” Bruce begins. When no reply comes, he continues. “We were going to check our theories about the Sakaarium’s rate of decay, you remember?”

“I’m busy,” Tony mumbles into his sleeve.

“You don’t look busy...”

Tony doesn’t respond.

“You were with the kid this morning, right?” Bruce tries to change the topic.

“Yeah,” Tony answers in a brisk voice. “What do you want, Bruce?”

“I - I thought we were going to take the measurements?”

“I told you, I’m busy. Told FRIDAY, actually. There was no need for you to come up here.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Bruce asks, slightly exasperated.

“You can just send me the data later. Easier that way.” Tony’s tone is almost hostile now.

Bruce tries very hard not to let his self-confidence slip away, but it’s futile. Maybe he overestimated the importance of their work to Tony. Their friendship has been a bit tense lately, with Bruce rationally knowing that the other man doesn’t blame him for going away, but still not being able to not feel guilty for his absence during Tony’s fallout with Steve.

“Okay, then I’ll just - go and do the experiment on my own.” He tries to keep his tone neutral while getting down from the stool.

“Bruce.” Tony’s voice is quiet, unlike him. He lifts his head and finally Bruce can get a look at his face. Exhaustion is written all over his features. He looks sad, sort of lonely, but also distinctly ill. His eyes are red, his nose is running, and his normally tanned skin tone is now an unhealthy grey.

Bruce frowns. “Are you sick?”

Tony scoffs like he’s about to give a snarky comment, but then he seems to think better of it. “Morphine withdrawal, to be precise,” he admits with a sigh.

Bruce blinks at him. “You - what?”

“Yeah, funny isn’t it? And people always thought the alcohol would be the drug that kills me…” He lets out a bitter laugh.

“Tony, this…How did this happen?” Bruce immediately feels guilt bubble up inside him. How did he not notice? The Hulk stirs in the back of his mind and Bruce takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

“I’ve gotten in a little too deep since… since I came back,” Tony replies hesitantly. “Had, ehm, couple of bad injuries. My sternum was cracked, and I needed shoulder surgery, among other things. And then… guess it was just convenient. Drowning out the pain.”

He doesn’t say what kind of pain he is talking about, but Bruce has an idea that it’s more than just the aftereffects of the injuries.

“You...You didn’t tell anyone.” It’s a statement, not an accusation. Bruce has been carrying secrets around with him for so long that he would never judge anyone else for doing the same.

Tony shrugs. “I told you now, didn’t I? Can’t see you walking around with this sad puppy face of yours. Plus, I hate lying.” He squints and starts massaging the bridge of his nose. “Sorry about the experiment. You can go ahead without me. Give me a few days and I’ll look at the data afterwards.”

“Tony, you could easily afford the best detox in the world. There are people who specialise in this - they could work out a treatment plan, maybe give you methadone…you don’t have to do this cold turkey.”

“Not all problems can be solved with money.”

“But this might just be one where money can help.”

“I don’t want anyone else involved.”

Tony’s voice is a bit louder now, almost angry, but there is something else in it - shame, a feeling Bruce has always thought alien to Tony. But then, this is not partying, not sex, not drunk-crashing a new suit into the Hudson. There’s nothing glamorous about addiction.

“What about Rhodey?” he asks softly.

Tony just shakes his head, guilt creeping up in his eyes.

“Okay.” Bruce takes a deep breath. “Then I’ll stay with you.”

“Go do your experiment, Bruce”, Tony dismisses. “You’re not the type for this. Leave me alone.”

Translation: I don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want to be a burden.

“No, I mean it. I can…” Bruce tries to think of a way that won’t have Tony refuse immediately. “I would feel better if I could at least take care of the medical side of things.” He hesitates a beat. “I won’t hover, I promise. I just don’t want you to do this alone.”

Another shrug. “You really don’t have to. Not gonna be pretty.” Brown eyes glance up at Bruce. They’re full of distrust, a slew of broken promises - and a flicker of hope.

“It’s okay,” Bruce assures.“I...I want to.”

Tony’s eyes hold his for a minute. Then, slowly, he nods.

Bruce doesn’t have to ask Tony why he agrees. He knows it’s not that Tony trusts him more than others; he doesn’t trust anyone, really. It’s not that Bruce is closer to Tony than Rhodey is. No, he agrees because he knows that Bruce isn’t a threat to him. It’s the same reason he once opened up about his PTSD. Because Bruce doesn’t judge, and Bruce would never use his knowledge against him.

“Okay, then.” Bruce takes a deep breath, mentally preparing a list of what he is going to need. He is not stupid, withdrawal isn’t a pony ride, and this isn’t going to be easy for either of them.

“Let’s go.” Tony gets up from the barstool, stumbling only a little.

Bruce frowns. “Where?”

“The experiment? We’ve waited for weeks to get these readings. Now that you’ve figured out what’s going on, might as well get some work done.”

“Tony, are you sure?”

“I figure I’ve got half a day until the worst of it starts, so let’s get to work.” He flashes a familiar grin at Bruce, who follows with a sigh.

*

“Care for a nap?” Bruce asks hopefully.

It’s four in the morning and they have been working non-stop for hours. Tony is trying hard not to let his discomfort show, but he’s sniffling constantly, a slightly haunted look in his eyes, and even his right hand is trembling now. Bruce has been trying his best to act normal too, making sure that Tony stays hydrated and eats something in between, and he’s attempted more than once to get his friend to sleep.

But the engineer just shakes his head, not even looking up from the tablet in which he is modelling the element’s other isotopes. “Go ahead, Brucie. I, uhm” - He rubs his dripping nose with the back of his hand - “distraction is good.”

The cravings must be worse than he’s letting on.

When Bruce keeps staring at him worriedly, Tony swivels his chair around and gives him a stern look. “Bruce, you promised not to hover. I hate hovering. Go to sleep.”

Bruce obeys, but he doesn’t want to leave Tony completely alone, so he stretches out on the couch. It’s the same one they used to have in the tower, judging by the very familiar scorch burn on the upholstery. The low hum of the laboratory equipment in the background and the sound of Tony tapping on this tablet are surprisingly soothing. Despite the lingering sense of worry and guilt, Bruce falls asleep quickly.

*

When he wakes up late next morning, Tony is still working.

“Hey, groundhog.” Tony wheels his chair around and rolls towards Bruce with a smirk.

Bruce sits up, groaning at the pain in his back that definitely didn’t approve of the idea of sleeping on the couch. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and squints at Tony. “You didn’t...”

“Nah. I’m clean.” He looks worse, though. His brown eyes are slightly glassy, huge dark rings below them and a light flush to his cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce ventures.

Tony shrugs. “Been better, been worse.”

Bruce raises a hand to gauge his temperature, but Tony flinches away reflexively. That’s new - another souvenir from Siberia.

“Sorry.” Bruce drops his arm. “Are you running a temperature?”

“A little above a hundred,” Tony dismisses. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that could stem either from the fever or excitement. “Made a lot of progress on the Sakaarium while you were getting your beauty sleep. I’ll brew some coffee if you have a look at it.” He presses a tablet into Bruce’s hands.

Bruce sighs. “Tea, please.”

After studying the data (Tony wasn’t lying about making progress - Bruce doesn’t think anyone would be able to get this much done in a week even in full health), Bruce goes to take a shower and gather supplies that he has a feeling he is going to need later. By the time he’s done, it’s almost noon, so he cooks pasta for them - something easily digestible. Tony, now visibly less energetic than before, picks at the food with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

“Do you want to lie down?” Bruce asks after he’s made Tony finish a small plate.

Tony shakes his head, trembling a little. He gets up gingerly, as if his whole body is hurting. “Let’s just...let’s get rid of it all.”

“The drugs, you mean?”

“No, Clint’s secret stash of Skittles. Of course the drugs.” It’s the first time he’s mentioned Clint since Bruce came back. It must have been an accident, because Bruce can see emotions swirling in Tony’s eyes just before he turns abruptly and walks out.

Bruce sighs. Tony has always been a notoriously hard person to talk to about personal topics, but since whatever happened in Siberia, it’s almost impossible to get anything out of him besides the constant stream of (increasingly cynical) sarcastic comments, the occasional remark about Peter Parker, and a never-ending flow of tech ideas. Bruce tried to carefully ask about the rest of the team a few times, but only got rapid topic shifts in reply. He still hasn’t worked up the courage to mention Pepper.

“Bruce?” Tony calls from the hallway.

“Coming…”

*

It takes longer than Bruce would have thought to get rid of all the pill bottles.

He knew that the compound was large, but he never thought about the sheer number of bathroom cabinets and kitchen shelves it contains. He doesn’t ask how Tony managed to get his hands on so many rations of morphine. He doesn’t ask why Tony felt the need to spread out his supply throughout all of the rooms. He tries not to think about Tony alone in the compound, wandering empty halls and sleeping off his highs in his former friends’ beds.

By evening, Tony is visibly shaking and ghostly pale except for the fever-flush of his cheeks. Bruce doubts they’ll be able to finish their task before his condition deteriorates.

“Just how many are there?” Bruce frowns, finding another pill bottle in a drawer in Sam’s old bedroom and throwing it into the garbage bag.

“Honestly? I don't know,” Tony replies from the medbay next door where he is bending over the medicine cabinet. “I reorder them every week, so they just kinda keep piling up. Funny, isn't it?” His tone is light, slightly ironic, but when Bruce catches a look at his face through the glass door, all he can read is pure self-loathing.

“Let’s take a break,” Bruce decides. He gets up stiffly and starts walking towards the common kitchen. “Tony?” he calls when the other man doesn’t follow.

“Just...coming.” Tony's voice sounds strained. The next moment, there is an audible thump and the sound of breaking glass. “Ow.”

Concerned, Bruce hurries into the room and finds Tony on his butt, a growing puddle of disinfection liquid soaking his pants. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to, uh, sit down for a moment.” Tony’s face is sweaty and his eyes a little unfocused.

“Let me clean this up.” Bruce goes to grab a rag from the kitchen and returns to try to control the damage.

“Have you -” Tony cuts himself off, swallowing thickly. A hint of green has crept up his cheeks. He’s starting to tremble harder under his oversized sweatshirt.

“I think we should move to the bathroom,” Bruce states as calmly as he can.

“Yeah,” Tony says, swallowing again. “Agreed.”

It takes half an hour of shallow breathing and spitting into the toilet accompanied by less and less convincing jokes until Tony actually brings something up, but then he doesn't stop for a long time. Being a doctor, Bruce has ample experience seeing people vomit. Still, he can’t help but feel a little queasy himself when he watches Tony bring up everything he’s eaten over the past day before descending into dry retches.

“You ever had a hangover that makes you feel like your stomach is literally trying to evacuate your body?” Tony pants, slumping onto the toilet seat after another round of dry heaves. “Because that’s what this feels like.”

He discarded his t-shirt long ago and his whole upper body is shiny with sweat. Bruce can still see some of the fading bruises from the fight. Tony’s chest is a whole maze of scars, some still fresh from the operations he must have undergone after returning from Siberia.

“You know I don’t drink.” Bruce cringes when another heave wracks through Tony’s body.

“Yes, Brucie, atta boy - how could I forget?” he says upon surfacing.

Even through the worst of the nausea, Tony is keeping up something resembling small talk, but it’s getting harder and harder for him to hide the pain and fatigue on his face.

Bruce puts a wet cloth on the ground next to him and Tony takes it gratefully, wiping the sweat off his forehead and pressing his face into the coolness.

“Here.” Bruce offers a cup of water.

“Noooo,” Tony whines. “What’s the point?”

“You're dehydrating fast. And I was told it hurts less if there's something in your stomach.”

“Blatant lies.” Tony drinks, his face contorting into a grimace. “God.” He bends over the toilet bowl, waiting for the inevitable.

Bruce carefully lays a hand on his back, rubbing up and down and checking the fever. Tony is definitely running warmer now.

His breath hitches. Then the few sips of water he managed to swallow splash back into the bowl.

*

When Tony is done puking for the time being, Bruce suggests they shift to the bedroom, but Tony insists on moving back to the lab. He settles on the same couch Bruce slept on the previous night, listlessly moving holograms to and fro in the air above him. Bruce isn’t exactly sure what he’s working on, but he suspects that not much progress is being made. Still, as long as distraction seems to help, he chooses not to say anything.

After a while, Tony gets up again and shuffles towards the bathroom.

“You’re gonna be sick again?” Bruce asks.

Tony just shakes his head with a scrunched expression, then locks the door behind him. Bruce sighs, guessing what’s going on, and decides not to disturb. Instead, he gets up to brew a special mint and ginger tea with a lot of sugar that he puts into the fridge for later use.

Tony returns after a while, his mouth a tight line, and refuses the saltines and water Bruce pushes towards him. He’s looking worse than just hours ago, as if he’s been ill with the flu for weeks. He drops onto the couch, picks up the tablet, and holds it up in front of his face. Bruce suspects that he closed his eyes, since he isn’t even scrolling.

After a while, a holo screen next to Tony lights up. “You have a voice message from Peter Parker, Boss,” FRIDAY informs him. Bruce blinks in surprise. It’s late evening already. But then, teenagers are not exactly known for their regular sleep schedules.

The warm feeling he got upon realising that FRIDAY is programmed to directly pass on Peter’s messages vanishes when Tony tells the A.I. to ignore it.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asks before he can stop himself.

“I’ve got stuff to do.”

“But Tony, what if something happened?”

“His A.I. would have alerted me. This is nothing important.”

“Don’t you think -”

“Geez, Bruce, give it a rest. You’re not my PA, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I just -”

“I knew this was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be here.” Tony runs his shaking hands through his hair, looking more pathetic than actually angry. “I, I need a break. I need a shower.”

He pushes himself to his feet with visible difficulty and stomps off towards the bathroom.

Bruce shakes his head in confusion. Peter seems to be one of the few good things that have happened during the time Bruce was gone. The doctor mostly keeps to himself these days, but he has met Peter once or twice during their lab afternoons and was touched by how awkwardly paternal Tony acts around him. Ignoring his messages doesn’t fit into that schema at all.

The message on the screen is still blinking. Bruce’s curiosity, fueled by a little bit of defiance, gets the upper hand. “FRIDAY, can you play the message to me?”

“Yes, Dr. Banner. You have full security clearance for it.”

“Hey, uhm, Mr. Stark, it’s Peter,” the teenager’s high-pitched voice issues from the speakers. “I’m, uh...I just wanted to apologise again for yesterday in case, uh, in case I said anything wrong? I know that you’re busy and it was probably really dumb of me to ask you, I am so sorry, I should have thought about that before. It’s really just a stupid school thing, and, uhm, I really get it you don’t have time for that. I was just thinking because May said it’s a good idea… and because you seemed a bit...down lately, so I thought I’d invite you. Anyway, I just, I’m sorry if I upset you. Just, uh, I hope that we can meet next week in the lab? I got an idea for the suit upgrade that you suggested, so… Okay, that’s it, I guess. Good night, and, uh, sorry again.”

“Tony, what did you do?” Bruce exhales, sitting down heavily on the chair. He’s starting to get a pretty good idea of what’s going on. Another point added to the long list of things Tony Stark won’t talk about.

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears retching from the bathroom.

“Tony?” Bruce knocks hesitantly. He knows that the whole Internet has seen Tony Stark nude, and Tony probably doesn’t care, but Bruce is uncomfortable with the thought of walking in on him after showering.

The only reply is a non-committal noise. Bruce carefully opens the door, his chest going tight with worry when he sees Tony curled up on the bathroom floor next to the toilet, dressed only in a silk bathrobe, his forehead pressed against the base of the cold bowl. His hair is still damp from washing. All residual anger in Bruce is replaced with worry.

“Hey, Tony,” he says softly.

“Hey yourself,” Tony croaks.

“Let’s move you to the bed, okay?”

“Hurts,” Tony mumbles, not responding to the question. “‘s like my skin’s coming off.”

Bruce winces in sympathy. “You’re gonna be alright. Can you sit up?”

“‘m pathetic. You don’t - you really don’t have to - “

“It’s okay. I’m here, Tony, alright?” He crouches down and slowly puts his arms under Tony’s elbows to prop him up, feeling the heat coming off him in waves. He has a suspicion that part of the withdrawal is actually alcohol-related, which would explain the intensity of his symptoms. Tony flinches at the touch and starts to shiver violently.

“I-I’m gonna -” He gulps. Bruce guides him over the toilet bowl and holds him upright when he heaves, bringing up acidic smelling bile.

“You’ll be okay,” Bruce murmurs.

Tony huffs and pushes himself upright with visible effort. He rinses his mouth while steadying himself on the washbasin, then shuffles to the elevator that leads to the bedroom. Bruce follows with a trash can, the tea, and a sinking feeling in his gut.

*

Throughout the night, Tony gets steadily worse.

He doesn’t fall asleep, unable to get comfortable enough to rest. Instead, he tosses and turns on the bed, kicking the sheets off his sweaty body just to pull them up again minutes later when the chills wrack through him. The little bit of ginger tea Bruce manages to make him drink comes back up every time in painful bouts of vomiting. At some point, Bruce turns on the TV in the hope to provide some distraction, but Tony doesn’t seem able to focus.

When the night bleeds into morning, Tony is an anxious mess, going from incoherent rambling to sudden silence. His fever is still rising. He’s been calling for Pepper intermittently, regarding Bruce with large, confused eyes each time before remembering where he is.

Finally, in the late morning, he falls into a fitful sleep, more out of sheer exhaustion than anything else. Bruce leaves him alone for a few minutes for a hasty breakfast of cold, leftover pasta and a much-needed change of clothes. By the time he returns, Tony is mumbling in his sleep, his face lined with agony, small tremors running through him as his hands seem to clutch the bedsheets for dear life.

Bruce settles in the armchair next to the bed and reaches for Tony’s fingers, holding them tight, trying to provide what little comfort he can.

*

Bruce must have dozed off against his will, because what wakes him up in the late afternoon is the sound of Tony screaming. It’s neither an angry shout nor a quiet whimper. It’s low and guttural, reminding him more of a wounded animal than anything human. He’s witnessed many of Tony’s nightmares over the years they’ve shared a lab, with Tony falling asleep on the workbench after hours of trying to power through the exhaustion, just to wake up with a gasp and wetness in his eyes. But Bruce has never heard anything like this.

“Hey,” he soothes, his voice still hoarse from sleep. He squats next to the bed and lightly pats his friend’s elbow. “Tony, wake up.”

Tony's eyes open, his gaze panicked. His arms fly up to his head in a defensive posture, as if shielding himself from an attack.

“Tony? It’s okay, you’re okay. We're here, at the compound. You’re safe.”

Tony takes in the room, slowly seeming to recognise Bruce, and lets his hands drop down. He’s breathing heavily and far too fast. He clutches his chest, fingers digging into the scar tissue where the arc reactor used to be.

“You’re okay. You’re sick, but you’re safe.” It’s all Bruce can think of to provide reassurance.

“Gimme - minute,” Tony rasps, looking on the verge of a panic attack.

“Okay. I’ll get you some water.” He stands up to give Tony some privacy.

When he comes back, Tony’s eyes are half-closed and his breathing has calmed down, but that’s about all there is for good news. The fever, if anything, seems worse than before, and the shaking hasn’t let up.

Bruce reaches for his wrist and checks his pulse. It’s slightly irregular and a little too quick. Heart palpitations are normal for people going through withdrawal, but with Tony’s history of cardiac issues, Bruce can’t help but worry. He pinches Tony’s skin and frowns when the white doesn’t fade as quickly as it should. He hopes they won’t need an IV, but dehydration is starting to become problematic.

Bruce has to raise the cup to Tony's mouth in order to make him drink while the man follows him sluggishly with eyes that seem almost delirious. His face is slick with sweat. Bruce wets another washcloth and lays it over Tony’s forehead.

“Cold...”Tony flinches away, seemingly from something else than just the physical pain. His hand wanders to his chest again, and Bruce thinks he can make out some newer scars across the old ones. Tony slurs something and Bruce catches Steve’s name.

“Steve’s not here, alright? It’s just us, Tony. Please, have a bit more water...”

Tony shakes his head, his expression conveying fear, sadness, and guilt.

What happened in Siberia, Tony? Bruce thinks. What did Steve do to you? What did you do to each other?

*

“...Bruce?”

The doctor hears the voice while he’s busy cleaning out the trash can in the bathroom from the last vomiting episode, but if he hadn't known it was Tony, he wouldn’t have recognised it. It’s weak and scared and nothing about it seems to belong to Iron Man. Bruce quickly rinses the can and steps back into the room.

“Hey, I'm here,” he reassures, trying to keep the tiredness from his tone. Tony is much, much worse off, but two days with hardly any sleep are starting to take their toll on Bruce as well.

Tony is sitting on the edge of the bed, his whole body swaying, his eyes large and wet. “B-Big guy?”

“Yeah, it's me.”

“For a minute, I thought…” Tony stares at him, blinks, shakes his head and sways dangerously. “Never mind.”

Bruce is there in two large strides, sitting down next to the other man and offering his shoulder for support. “It's me. It's really me, I'm real, I promise. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Tony slumps into him, burying his face in his shoulder. First Bruce thinks that it's sweat that's soaking his shirt, or that Tony had thrown up on him. But then he hears the sobs, quiet and terrified.

“Oh, Tony.” Ordinarily Bruce is not a fan of physical contact, but he’s never had such a strong urge to hug someone as he does now. He pulls the other man to his chest, holding him, shielding him. “It's okay, you're gonna be okay.”

“'s not about me,” Tony whispers. “Every life I touch just falls apart.”

“That's not...that's not true, Tony. You did so much for me.”

I hadn't had a home in decades when you took me in. I hadn’t had anyone who knows what I am look at me without fear before I met you. He thinks of ways to vocalise the feeling, but Tony goes on, speaking so quietly that Bruce can hardly hear him. “I let the kid down.”

“What happened?” Bruce asks softly.

“He... He had a thing, a competition, from his college. Wan’ed me to come to Washin’ton this weekend. But I...he can’t know. So I, I snapped at him. Was...yesterday, maybe… I dunno. I felt like my father. I spent my whole life tryin’ to be someone else, just to find that ‘m no different. No different at all. And I don’t wanna…” he sobs, chokes. “And then… I had to stop, Bruce.”

And suddenly, Bruce understands. “You’re not your father. You are better, Tony. You’re doing your best.”

Tony weeps silently, Bruce holding him, until night bleeds into day.

*

“It hurts.” Tony is slumped over the trashcan after the latest fruitless attempt at keeping Bruce’s iced tea down. His eyes are bloodshot, his face haggard and his whole frame trembling. A trickle of bile falls into the receptacle. Bruce rubs his back, wishing he could find a way to ease the nausea, to take the pain away.

“I need-” Tony abruptly sits up straight, swaying as he does so.

“Tony, it’s alright. Everything’s okay. Just, lie down, okay?”

“No, you, you don’t understand, it hurts...I need my meds.”

“You don’t need anything. It will get better, you hear me? It will get better, I promise.”

And suddenly Tony is shouting. “You’re lying! Fucking get out! I don’t need you! I need - I need Pepper - I need a fucking painkiller!” His voice is hoarse from all the vomiting, and the shout is more of a croak than anything else, but it still hits Bruce unexpectedly.

Tony tries to get his feet under him. Bruce pushes him back down without thinking, realising his mistake a split-second too late.

There is no recognition in his eyes when Tony lashes out, barely missing the doctor. He is much too weak to do any real damage, but the Hulk is immediately alert, always ready to protect Bruce.

Bruce grits his teeth as he tries to force him back into his mind with sheer determination. This can’t happen, not now, not with Tony sick as a dog and unable to protect himself. Bruce sinks onto the bed, his knees feeling weak. All he can think is that Tony was right, that it was wrong to call Bruce, wrong to trust Bruce, because he is a monster after all.

He can feel the Hulk roaring in the back of his head, and then he’s hit with memories from a long time ago. His father, the row of bottles on the ground next to the armchair he would occupy on the days he didn’t go to work. Bruce in the hallway, and then the angry eyes turning on him, then the belt, the hands, the fear. His logical brain knows that it’s nonsense, that Tony is not drunk, that his father’s been dead for years, but the flashback is so strong that it takes his breath away for a few moments.

He slowly counts to ten in an effort to calm himself, keeping his eyes closed and listening to his own breaths pounding in his ears.

When he feels safe to open his eyes, Tony is sitting on the ground below him, looking on the verge of passing out.

“Okay.” Bruce forces himself into a calm tone despite the emotions churning in his stomach. “Can you stand up if I help you?”

“I need...it really hurts, Bruce. I need a pill.”

“You can’t have any drugs. That’s why we’re doing this, Tony, remember? Remember Peter?”

There's pain in his eyes, then his body flattens, the energy bleeding out. Tony sways on the spot until Bruce kneels down next to him, wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into his chest.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” Tony mumbles.

“It's okay,” Bruce whispers, sadly. “It’s okay.”

He isn’t quite sure how he finds the strength, feeling dizzy himself from exhaustion and barely contained panic, but he manages to move Tony back to the bed. The other man isn’t unconscious, but he doesn’t seem very aware of his surroundings either. Bruce mechanically checks his temperature, blood pressure, and pulse, and finds all of them worrying.

He decides on an IV then, setting it up with calm hands despite his racing thoughts. It takes a while to find a good vein. Tony flinches a little when the needle pierces his skin, but otherwise doesn’t react.

Bruce sits down on the edge of the bed first, but then he shifts to the headrest and pulls his feet up on the mattress. He looks down at Tony, who has fallen into an unsettled sleep, looking ill, exhausted, and frighteningly old. There are traces of tears on his cheek. Bruce strokes them away, then moves his fingers up to Tony’s sweaty curls, smoothing them lightly, wishing he could give the man more comfort than that.

*

This time, Bruce wakes up from his own nightmare involving his father and the Hulk. He takes a moment to orient himself. He’s in Tony’s bed - must have fallen asleep in a sitting position and slowly slid down, judging from the pain in his neck.

Tony is asleep on the other side of the bed, curled into a fetal position. One of his hands is clutching Bruce’s shirt. He’s still pale as a ghost, the circles under his eyes so dark that they almost look like paint, but when Bruce reaches over to touch his forehead, he finds the fever has finally broken. He carefully uncurls Tony’s fingers and checks his pulse - a little weak, but thankfully regular.

After removing the IV, Bruce goes into the kitchen and starts to make tea for himself and a milkshake for Tony. He puts both drinks on a tray and returns to the bedroom, finding Tony awake and leaning heavily against the headrest, looking exhausted and thoughtful.

“Room service,” Bruce says in a sudden attempt to take over Tony’s role and lighten the mood.

“God, Bruce, you look terrible,” Tony observes, visibly guilty.

“You should see yourself,” Bruce comments. He sets the shake down on the bedside table.

“You didn't have to - we could have ordered -”

“It's okay. I wanted you to have something made with care on your first day.”

Tony takes the beverage with a frown. “What is it?”

“Vanilla milkshake. Easy to digest, and you need the energy.”

Tony takes a few sips, then, apparently realising how starved he is, finishes the glass. Bruce smiles and pours him another.

“That doesn’t work with my diet plan. Hope that FRIDAY approves of it.” He grins.

“Oh, I doubt she has any objections. You could use a few pounds, honestly.”

After four days of barely eating or drinking, Tony's cheek bones are more pronounced than ever, and his shirt traces the outline of his hollow stomach. But, looking back now, Bruce is sure that his clothes were hanging loosely even before the withdrawal.

“How’s the shake settling?” he asks, not keen on having to use the trash can again.

“Okay, I guess. I’m - Maybe I’m hungry? I’m not so sure anymore.”

“That’s good,” Bruce says with a measure of relief. “Maybe give it half an hour and then you can try some solid food? You can shower in the meantime, if you feel up to it.” He pauses before adding, “No offence, but you need it.”

Tony looks down at himself as if only now realising that he has a body. “Oh. Yeah.”

He unsteadily goes to take a shower while Bruce prepares a proper breakfast for both of them. Tony looks a little bit better by the time he steps into the kitchen, wearing athletic shorts and an old sweatshirt, his dark hair still wet. He all but inhales two cups of coffee and a slice of toast before leaning back in his chair, eyes half-closed.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks, putting more toast on a plate and setting it down in front of his friend.

“Sore. Shaky. But also almost human again,” Tony replies, opening one eye. “And like I might actually be able to sleep, and when I wake up, maybe I wouldn’t be weak as a kitten.”

“See, that’s a start.”

Tony squints at him, insecurity bleeding through his attitude. “I guess I owe you a thank you.”

“You don’t owe anything to anyone, Tony,” Bruce asserts.

The engineer snorts out a bitter laugh. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Bruce sighs, wishing for the day when Tony will stop feeling like he is indebted to the whole world. He doesn’t know what it will take, and he’s afraid to think about it because something tells him that Tony won’t ever stop before he breaks.

“And I…” Tony looks down for a moment. “I want to say thank you. You didn’t have to do it, and...I don’t really remember much of the last three days, but I know it can’t have been easy for you either.”

Bruce softens. “It’s okay, Tony. I’m glad I was there with you.”

“I don’t know how to make good on that.”

“If you want to do something, then call Peter Parker.” Tony’s jaw goes rigid and Bruce adds, “Not right now. Eat. Sleep. Try to establish something like a routine. But do call him eventually. Don’t let this chance slip away.” He pauses. “I’m- I'm proud of you, Tony. And Peter will be, too.”

“He can’t know. Ever. I’m serious, Bruce.”

There’s no sense in trying to tell Tony that there is no shame in addiction. He already knows that, in theory at least, but the standards he holds himself to have always been superhumanly high.

“Fine,” Bruce sighs. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. And you promise me that you’ll call the kid.”

There is something almost like insecurity in Tony’s eyes, something vulnerable, but he nods anyway. “Okay.”

Bruce weighs his thoughts and then decides to go a bit further.

“You...Your fever got pretty high, and you said some things. You mentioned Steve, and Siberia.” Tony sets up to speak, his expression defensive, and Bruce raises his hands. “Hear me out. I won’t force you to tell me anything about it. Ever. Just, you don’t have to keep it all inside. If you want to talk, I promise I won’t fall asleep this time. Consider it an offer.”

Tony looks at him, tired and a hundred years older than a few days ago, but there’s something like the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I...Not now. But someday, maybe.”

And that’s all Bruce needs to hear for now.

Tony almost nods off at the table while checking his email, so Bruce firmly takes the device out of his hand and ushers him back to bed. His heart goes warm when he notices that Tony has created a reminder on his tablet to call Peter later that afternoon.

After making sure that Tony is sound asleep, Bruce heads off to his own bedroom, swaying slightly himself from tiredness. Sunlight is flooding the compound. It’s still empty, but a different empty than it was the day when he arrived. It doesn’t feel like an ending anymore, but rather like it could be the beginning of something new.

All my fics

Taglist: @toomuchtoread33

#tony stark #bruce banner #peter parker #science bros #withdrawal #tw drug abues #tw morphine #tw addiction #sick tony stark #sick tony #sickfic #whump #tony!whump #bruce banner is a good bro #tony stark has a heart #and cares a lot about peter

[heads-in-the-clouds-spacecadet]

When asked to write a daily diary for anxiety management.

Here are a few days example....

Sunday 24th 

Mood/anxiety = numb. 

Additional meds =8mg of diazipam.

My whole body aches yet it shouldn't. My stomach is growling yet i feel physically sick. 

Things i ask myself....

Q.1 Will i leave my safe space, weighted blanket & mountain of pillows?

A.1 NO. 

Q.2 Will i manage my yoga routine

A.2 NO

Reasons....Why

I feel exhausted even though ive not been outside since Thursday. I just want the aching to subside the pain to leave. My jaw is clenched closed making eating an ordeal. I know this needs to be done. 

The dread of what passive aggressive message/s ill receive today either in person or written either way im struggling to motivate myself to move.

The Internet has been blocked for nearly a wk now. But i just let it slide as the saying goes choose your arguements "wifi is not the hill i want to die on" quote from TBBT. I hear Luke (my brother) is now in his bedroom and his door is closed. He has been banging around the house sending passive aggressive messages (sms) since 4am. My belongings that i left downstairs were thrown into my room. I'm nervous to leave my room till i know he is asleep. 

Flashback/negative thoughts....

1. How can my baby brother be an emotional manipulator. 

2. Last time i had to justify my everymove i was in Portugal in a very bad relationship. 

*****Ways im looking to excuse his behaviour. Find the cause to my sudden crash of low mood aka depression with a nice battle of anxiety.

---Logically i know its not the same. 

---Emotionally it hurts the same. 

The way he looks at me with disgust, resentment & impatience is the trigger. I realise this. How someone you love can make you feel this way. 

Solution: i decide to find a solution to the sudden conflict of money and i know there is a receipt in the car. I go to the normal place the keys are kept and theyre no where to be found. I look in all the obvious logical places they  could be and realise theyre hidden by my loving brother. His Reasons, 1-to stop me  buying shit (his words). 2. He has decided its his house, his car so therefore his rules. (Its all my mums btw)

As im downstairs i notice the kitchen is a mess. Pots all over from a feast Luke cooked up the night before. Or should i say 2am. 

So i feel defeated. Ive basically been cleaning non stop everytime i use a room as per gov guidelines and he just doesnt seem to comprehend the severity of the situation. 

I decide i need to eat. So i opt for Shreddies with Oat Milk (Luke has a serious milk allergy to the milk proteins in cows milk so im not fussed about milk and am happy to use alternatives) topped with vanilla soya yogurt, bannana, a few cranberries, 3 strawberries, sultanas and crushed Almonds. My logical brain is telling me eat well as we are not leaving the bedroom again unless desperate. 

I send a few messages to the family whats app (Luke refuses to be a part of this) and receive encouraging and support in return. Everyone is struggling in their own way so i appreciate having a small outlet between us all.

After food i sleep finally. 

Trying now to Ready myself for round 2 which i know is coming.

My mum calls i dont want to answer but i do. I explain the situation. She knows, she has dealt with his angry behaviour since he was 11yrs old. She stated she is coming to visit Tuesday as per new gov guidelines and we will meet in the park. She then asks me to pass the phone to Luke which i pointblank refuse. Im not ready for round 2 yet. Especially since he has his own phone he is just not answering making everyone worry about him but he just resents it. Its safe to say im proud i refused to do something. Gold star award ⭐

Monday 25th

Mood/Anxiety -  still no change from yesterday but i decide i have to force myself to move. Wash, clean and pack the additional things my mum has requested. 

Additional meds - i decided against taking anything today as i need to be clear headed for my appointment Tues and obvs my mums visit.

I check the weather see its a nice day decide washing is task 1. I set a bath running (multi tasking saving time from all the free time) and head downstairs to pop the washing machine on. Before i left my room i checked my phone for messages i have one from my mum telling me she has had words with Luke and that he needs to basically deal with the resentment in a more positive way. 

This explains all the banging and loud music yesterday early eve. He decided to actually clean. 

Anyhow I head downstairs. Kitchen is clean, messages all wiped from the black board. 

I decide i must try and communicate with Luke as we cant take the conflict with us to the park it isnt fair to our mum. 

I can hear him moving so send a sms message asking if he wants anything in the oven. No response. ***He did finally get out of bed at 3pm so a peaceful day so far. 

I decide food is required. I opt for protein soya burgers x2 with Spinach, tomatos, avacado, sultanas, almond pieces and some crumpets. I sit in the garden to eat.

All washing is out and drying but im to anxiety ridden and unmotivated to enjoy the sunshine. 

I head back to my room to sort bits for my mum and throw away my origami collection. It was over taking my room and again causing conflict. 

Lukes awake!!!. I decide to say hello. So far so good. He decides to make himself lunch and throws a fit because i ate a £0.45 avocado. I walk away as i know he is just venting and i need to not start the circle of negative thoughts or interactions. This is rewarded with resentment. Luke suddenly decides to do his own washing and cut the grass. Which means my washing is in his way. Before he even starts i am pulling in whats dry mainly because i want to go back to bed and need my bedsheets but also because he wont care if my washing turns green or is damaged. To my delight my sheets are dry but my pjs etc need another 30mins so i leave them whilst i go and make my bed. 

Im bellowed at about washing as Luke needs the line. So i head down stairs to reteive the rest of my belongings. 

Self soothing thoughts...

Im walking on eggshells trying not to provoke the beast and i need to keep going. Focus on my achievements. I left my room. I cleaned myself, my clothing and my pillow fort which has been my safe zone for the past 4days. 

Deep down thought i am disappointed as i know isolation and distancing is not a long turn solution as the yrs pass im becoming more and more isolated and lonely. 

Im downstairs again and i ask Luke if he wants anything popping in the oven as i was having toast. He requested 2 burgers and chips but on seperate trays as he was hungry. Easy to do popped into the oven. 40mins later chips are cooked he is plating up and all he says is "why have you cooked so many chips, clearly we now live in a household of wastefulness". 

This was the turning point for me id had enough for 1day and just told him to give it a rest and went to my room. 

Im dozing with Big Bang on in the backround and Luke is banging on my door. Mums on the phone. Confirming arrangements for tomorrow. I say a few oks with the occasional nod. 

I start packing the bits n bobs my mum has asked for and carry then downstairs so theyre ready for the car tomorrow am. 

Its PJs and bed time. Luke has other ideas. He is awake and up and about at 4.30am. Having a bath at 5am, doing weights after his bath at 6am then leaves in the car at 7am. He is back around 8am banging has a shower then decides to leave again in the car. He is meant to be house-bound until July 1st. This in itself causes me anxiety as i cant handle watching another member of my family die in front of my eyes. 

Thoughts...

Yes this is VERY dramatic. STOP IT BRAIN!

Take precautions all will be ok. 

Tuesday 26th

Mood/Anxiety = No change 

Additional meds = 4mg diazipam but late afternoon as i couldnt stop shaking and fidgeting.

My mum is coming to visit. Im trying not to think about the fact Luke is out of the house. 

We are having a picnic social distancing style. 

We head to the coop as Luke has decided even after knowing our mum all his life never be on time, we have to be early. I buy Costa coffee, fresh bread, hummus, bananas, diet coke and some biscuits the nature valley ones theyre really good. Luke doesnt go into the shop I think at least he is listening to some rules. He rolls his eyes as i spray the shopping with dettol spray and use the alcohol hand sanitizer for my hands and door handle etc. I just tell him its how it needs to be done.

We find a perfect parking spot under a bunch of trees. I notice that all the trees are trimmed in a very even shelf across the bottom. It looked like it was designed perfectly for people to walk straight onto the park from the car park without having to fight with tree branches or go around.  But in actual fact its the deer. They eat the lower leaves this made me smile and relax for a moment. WIN.

My mum is late so im nervous that she is 

1. Stuck somewhere (over reaction)

2. Lost (over reaction)

3. Just running late (normal reaction) 

Im a tad fidgety as im aware i have an appointment in 2hrs. Hurry up MOTHER...

I ponder about work and whether or not ill still have a job to return too. Had an email this am stating theyre cutting 200jobs from the team i work in. So not sure if thats a good thing or not. But its also increasing my anxiety as ive read the email and now have a burning desire to do the research to see what my probability of keeping my job will be. Before my brain can go on a major tangent my mum arrives. 

Shes brought Oscar (her poodle) he is so excited to see me. And the big hairy fluff ball  gave me the biggest snuggles. He has a major Covid hairdoo. My mum doesnt hug me which hurts but i know she cant. 

Picnic time. We sit in the middle.of a field away from everyone. Social distancing 10/10. My mum has made me my favourite cakes, rock buns. (Apparently these are a northern thing) but im feeling the love. Its fairly chilled only 1 disagreement with Luke over blinkin avocados.

Im clock checking and aware of impending appointment, im a little (understated) nervous because ive not had positive relationships with therapists or doctors in the past. 

#mental health #lost #hurting #help #self reflection #finelinebetweenloveandhate #still breathing #GAD #recovery #survivor

[sierrabinondo]

woodland creatures tour - day 7 (greensboro)

normally i feel very weird about sleeping over people’s houses, just in general??? you know what i mean? sometimes you just can’t get comfortable because you’re not in your own bed, not because of where you are or who you’re with. on tour i’m so fucking exhausted and so comfortable with living like i’m a backpacker that it’s all just normal to me. like a brat i located the couch and crawled up onto it while everyone else took an air mattress. i would have slept on an air mattress but we couldn’t fit one lmao. 

i automatically woke up at like 8:30 and couldn’t fall back asleep, so i got up and started getting ready. tour has also made me skilled at being able to freshen up and do my makeup in the crevice of any house, hotel, car, you name it. i try not to make noise but inevitably everyone heard me and slowly woke up one by one. the door was unlocked so i started to pack whatever i could into the van. god, it was so beautiful out. though we were in the south, and the temperature was still pretty high day-to-day, at this moment it just felt like the most beautiful fall weather. we managed to get out of the house at 9:30 am, which we were aiming for. james’ roommate, who was leaving for work, kindly wished us well as we packed up the van to head out. we unfortunately missed james so i shot him a text. 

the day before, taylor and i coordinated a group outing to the greensboro science center, which was a museum, zoo and aquarium all in one. for the price of $12 per person, since we were a group!!! incredible! before heading to greensboro, which would be our shortest drive all of tour (an hour and a half!), we hit starbucks and panera again. when we pulled up to the panera it was in a shopping plaza with people lined up waiting for like... verizon to open???? so bizarre. 

i desperately needed to hunker down and get some work done before we hit the road, for the most part my phone was providing reliable wifi but i had a time sensitive task that needed to be completed. once that was done we hit the road. we arrived to the science center and once pulses. showed up, we headed in. the science center was so sick. we started our trek around the building at like 1, and penguin feeding was at 3:30. but with so much exploring to do, we knew we’d be able to kill two hours and a half easily. 

we started with the zoo portion a

nd saw a lot of cool animals. they had a lot of atypical mammals you don’t always see at zoos. what they DID have was R E D  P A N D A S, and theY WERE AWAKE. back at home we have the cape may zoo which is soooooo sick, i love going there, but their red pandas are always sleeping. i literally cried because the red pandas at this exhibit were so much closer, and they were romping around their lil home. the one red panda hopped off its perch and CAME TO THE WINDOW TO SAY HELLO IT JUMPED UP RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. i definitely made a fool of myself getting loudly emotional but i didn’t care in the slightest. my entire life was made. we also saw an owl at the barn where the petting zoo was!!!

we were all laughing so fucking hard cracking jokes at every exhibit. it felt like an adult school field trip hahaha. i was having so much fun. it was nice to enjoy something together and not be stuck in a van in a rush to get somewhere. the outdoor area tuckered us out pretty badly from being in the heat, so it was nice to get back inside to go check out the aquarium in the air-conditioned building. the aquarium was pretty sick, there was a tank that was home to the biggest octopus i have ever seen in person. i was most interested in the otters and penguins, to be honest. we also hit the touch tank which was sick, except i had to soak my entire fucking arm just to maybe get a crumb of attention from a sting ray. they were swimming everywhere but where i planted myself. 

after going through the aquarium, we still had some time to kill before the penguin feeding at 3:30 pm. we hit the gift shop, where they had red panda and barn owl plushes. what a coincidence, both our tour mascots!! i’m a sucker for stuffed animals so of course i bought one. taylor bought an owl for pulses. so now we both had FRIENDS to represent our bands. we went downstairs to go check out the snakes and lizards. not as exciting for me, but still sick. we were going to hit the museum part finally, but it was 3:20 so we figured might as well head over to the penguins. it was worth the wait. there was a penguin named gojira haha

it turned out that there was enough time for us to get food together before the show. jaime found a restaurant named pastabilities, it was a sit-down but you could make your own pasta dish chipotle-style???? so i got chickpea pasta with chicken, sundried tomatoes, spinach and mushrooms. sooooooooooooooooooo good. i wasn’t going to get pasta because i was going to try to be a healthy guy but ugh what the fuck ever. i love pasta. i’m not going to rob myself of pasta opportunities!!!! we had another really wonderful meal together as a tour package. i guess because we were the biggest group and you could hear us talking loudly about tour the staff figured out we were musicians. the manager came over and started asking who played what haha. 

after a delicious early dinner, we drove to our hotel for check-in so that we could drop our personal bags. pulses. followed us because they were just driving home after the show later, and waited in the parking lot until they could head to the venue. i forget the name of the hotel we stayed at but the people in there were super suspect, and projecting those vibes FOR sure. taylor said she thinks she saw a guy walking around with a burner phone as a car was slowly driving in circles around the parking lot. i’m like great, last thing we need is another scary motel. our stuff ended up being fine though, it was one of the better spots we stayed at. 

pulses. awaited us at the venue and we arrived a little after load-in started. it was super quiet when we showed up, we set up quickly and waited around. the house we played, ice house, was huge. so much more massive than houses in new brunswick where students in jersey host shows, mostly. there was so much room to move around and sit, it was nice. at first it seemed like not many people were inside, but then you go outside and there’s DOZENS of kids hanging out drinking. eventually more and more people came inside to watch the bands too. glow and terms x conditions were great! 

for all of us, it had been a weird afternoon, but we did our best to be positive and just rip our set(s) as best as we could. and the change in attitude paid off! both our bands received awesome crowd response from the people who attended. it was awesome to see people jamming out and genuinely having a good time. also uh a fight broke out during our set??? insane. there was a kid trying to take down everyone, like just to the ground lmao, and when he tried to do it to david he put in a chokehold. and david grabbed his arm and was just like, STOP. i made everyone stop playing until we sorted out that everything was all right. i had to play without my in-ears which sucked, in the past i have always struggled and tired myself out trying to sing loud enough over the monitors. so i just tried to listen carefully, sing carefully and trust myself. and joe said i hit some like bananas note during synapse that i haven’t been able to do since?? i remember going for it and it was fine, idk maybe it was actually BAD, but i will never know now haha. 

we didn’t sell merch, nor make a lot of money, but i think what counts as a successful show is when people receive you super well. leaving a positive first impression on somebody as a band is so important to me because that person could potentially go on to listen to us for a long time. i will say though, it’s important to try to help touring bands make money if you can, like legit anything. i know we’re small guys and we’re not worth much, but we travel so far from home. and this is the ONE time of year that we actually do need money to operate. i’ve run into people who don’t believe in this, or don’t understand. i guess it won’t be possible to make those people understand until it happens to them. it’s why we can only tour on vacation time and even then we deplete our funds. 

we sweat our fucking asses off playing the house because it had no AC, so nothing could feel more refreshing than loading out during a rainstorm. i wasn’t even mad that it was raining. it felt so amazing. normally i bug out during crazy storms, but the thunderstorm was lighting up the sky in an incredible display. it continued as we said our goodbyes to pulses. before they headed back to virginia late, and we made our way to sheetz for post-gig eats. i wasn’t going to pig out but i was feeling the munchies. sheetz doesn’t really have anything wawa doesn’t have except for the tacos, so i got some hard shell tacos that were absolutely banging. also wonderful, they had my favorite flavor of bon & viv (black cherry rosemary) so i grabbed that too. eating tacos and drinking late was NOT a smart move the night before we played our last show on tour, but boy did it feel like a nice TREAT after playing a fantastic show. 

[elle-stevens]

The Break Up Blog - Day Forty One

I’m a in a crappy mood today.

It’s not for any tangible reason save for the fact that it’s close to that ‘time of the month’.

Oh, the joys of being a woman…

So naturally, I find everything irritating, even the sound of other people breathing around me.

I fell asleep around midnight after working on Katie’s portrait, but it wasn’t the best quality of sleep. Mainly because I kept stressing about my bloody fourth grade class and having some of them do more work on their diary entries tomorrow.

Why do they have to make my life more difficult than it needs to be? Some of my boys have all the etiquette of children raised in a wasteland far away from human civilization. It’s like they’ve never set foot in a classroom a day in their lives.

It was bad enough when I left Korea 4 years ago with high blood pressure after teaching there for two years. At this rate, I’m going to leave China eventually with high blood pressure and a nervous breakdown under my belt.

I texted SH about it over the weekend and she was very sympathetic, which made me feel even worse. She’s got enough on her plate and I feel like I’m adding to her burdens these days. I hope class goes better than what I’m expecting.

I have officially checked out of everything to do with my school. Sure, I’ll still go to work every day and continue doing what’s expected of me, but my head and heart are just not into this crap anymore. I’ve thought about it for two days now and I’ve decided that I’m not going to turn my fifth grade classroom into a democratic forum like H recommended. The parents and my colleagues may not like how I discipline my students, but I’m still their fucking teacher last time I checked. So I won’t do anything in class save to give my students their classroom points or not give them any points on a bad day when they’re not listening and disrupting my lessons.

When I went to get my hair done at the salon, C texted me and told me that the latest rumour mill is saying that no one should approach her at work and ask her for anything because she’s apparently so angry about being dismissed from work that she’ll lash out at anyone who approaches her.

…

…

…

I feel like many of my teaching colleagues have some hidden talents geared towards writing sensational fanfictions or fairytales. Anyone who knows C knows that she would never not help someone in need just because she’s going through a difficult time either personally or professionally. I don’t know where these pack of lies are suddenly coming from.

Well, that’s not true. It all seems to be coming from ML. I’m beginning to think the woman really thinks she has a penchant for mind-reading.

Or maybe she’s just demon-possessed.

I really don’t know what’s going on at my workplace and why the atmosphere has become so tense and poisonous in the last year. It wasn’t like this when I first started working there. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d blame on it too many new staff members and too many new students coming in and upsetting the ecosystem.

I can only imagine what people will say or what they’re already saying about me wanting to leave. At this point, everyone at work who has time to gossip and make up shit instead of doing their goddamn jobs can kiss my big, brown ass. I’m done playing politics with people who have no fucking common sense.

I am sick to death of shitty people besting me and having the last word. To all the shitty people in the world, here is my final piece of advice on the subject:

If you can’t do right by others and live a good life during this existence, then just kill yourself so that the rest of us trying to make sense of this crazy world can get on with our lives.  

I know that’s a cruel thing to say, especially when my life has been touched by the loss of a loved one through suicide.

But that’s honestly where I’m at right now. If you’re not good or even useful to me or others, then just kill yourself and be done with it. Because if you’re still alive and not living the right way or doing right by others, then you might as well be dead for all the harm you’re putting back out into the world.

Yeah, I’m in a really terrific mood today.

I managed to finish marking my student diaries, save for some of the fourth grade ones that aren’t finished yet. I took the box I packed it in back to my desk at school. JI, one of my Korean colleagues in the elementary department, was working late too. I hope she doesn’t stay at work too long and manages to get some rest later tonight. I left her pretty early on after finishing my work and gave her one of the Oreo bars in my backpack.

Now I’m typing angrily at this blog entry, wondering why I feel so tense and wound up today. It’s probably just emotions. At least the meds the doctor gave me yesterday are working well for my sinuses.

*touch wood*

I have one more set of exercises to do for my Keep Training and then the programme will finally be complete.

Halle-freaking-lujah!

I’m so over exercising, it’s ridiculous. Since I might be riding the crimson wave soon, I think I’ll slow down with exercising this week and just take it easy. I’m still in two minds about this, but I’m probably going to quit this blog after tonight too. It’s too exhausting doing this every evening after a shitty day at work and having to rehash my feelings about that and about X in one fell swoop. I’m just over everything.

At least there’s Golden Week to look forward to this coming weekend, plus next month’s pay cheque. Despite my crazy spending this month, I haven’t done too badly for myself. I just have to make sure I have enough cash to spend on a flight home to see my family in January. Given the ambiguous state of my parents’ marriage, I’m not exactly looking forward to figuring out whose place to crash at during my holidays.

Can people just sort their shit out and leave me the fuck out of it?

I’d better stop typing here before this becomes more of a shit show of emotions and bottled up resentment. Then I’ll do my bloody exercises, shower, eat dinner and then hopefully have a dreamless sleep. Whatever will happen tomorrow will happen with or without me.

As for X, I’m done feeling anything about her, good or bad. She’s a piece of shit in human form and I’m glad that she’s finally out of my life. Now she can find herself another dumb and rich foreigner to manipulate.

I hope I actually feel better by the time I finally stop typing. My wifi is being so shitty today too. What do I pay 300 RMB a month for anyway? Fresh air, wifi-adjacent, connectivity?  

I’d better switch to watching old movies or TV shows on my USB for now till my fucking laptop behaves and actually lets me use my VPN without any problems.

I guess it doesn’t matter anyway.

Nothing matters.

I need lots of sugar to get me through the night.

Some alcohol wouldn’t go amiss either.

#breakupblog #dayfortyone

[royal-babey]

Ranger Highschool AU

Since I love Fallen Hero: Rebirth and have no self control whatsoever, I decided to write a highschool au. Ft my sidestep, Robin Monrosa, as your local 17 year old anxiety filled new kid at school. As well as Wei Chen being an awesome adoptive Father

Only got three chapters done, but I am definitely planning to write more! So here they are for the time being ^^ I hope you all enjoy! :D

Content Warning: PTSD, Trauma, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Depression, Dissociation, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Tendencies, Intrusive thoughts, Needles, Blood, Past Child Abuse, Insomnia, Nightmares

Happier Tags: Gay! Fluff! Cute and dorky teenagers galore! M!Sidestep/M!Ortega! Yay!

-

Chapter 1

“Hey kiddo, how do you feel about moving?”

That was not what Robin expected to hear as soon as he walked in the front door to his and his fathers apartment.

No forewarning, no hints, just his dad having managed to pack half the small house in the span of six and a half hours whilst his son was off to school, surprising his adopted son as soon as he came home.

“I...Wha?”

Robin couldn’t think up much of a question. How was someone supposed to respond to this?

His adopted father, Wei Chen, glanced up at him briefly from his place kneeling on the floor, currently preoccupied with packing pictures and photo albums into a box.

“I mean it’s not as if you really have a choice. The moving van is coming tomorrow afternoon. I got a really good job offer at a school as a self defence instructor about three hours from here, so I took it. We’ll have a proper house, two separate bathrooms, a backyard for Spoon...”

“Wait wait wait.”

Robin felt like his head was gonna explode. He already had a headache, now this? His dad was talking a mile a minute. Which...Honestly wasn’t really like him. Was he scared Robin would throw a fit or something? Have a tantrum and run off to his room, slamming the door?

But a quick sweep over of his father's mind revealed no thoughts like that, just him being in a hurry to get as much done as possible. At least Robin could stop overthinking on that front…

His father looked worried now. He had spaced out and been quiet for too long again. Shit.

“Just...Just gimme a second.”

Robin shook his head, digging into his bag to pull out some painkillers and his water bottle. He washed one down with a swig of water, and once he didn’t feel as overcharged…

“So...We’re moving?”

Chen nodded at Robin, waiting for him to continue as Robin sorted this out in his brain. Easier to go over what he was already told and put it in order.

“You got a better job offer, so we won’t be living in this shitty apartment anymore?”

“Language.”

“Sorry...But an actual house? For Spoon too?”

Chen nodded again, a small smile playing on his lips now. Robin just leaned against the kitchen counter, picking up a pen that was there to start clicking and fidgeting with.

“That’s right.”

“You said it was three hours away...Where are we going?”

Chen hesitated for a moment, then finally, answered.

“Los Diablos.”

Robin was puzzled. He didn’t have a problem with it per say, but...His dad seemed hesitant.

“Something wrong?”

“No, no...I’m just...Worried about how you’ll adjust to a new school.”

Robin snorted, shrugging. His dad was worried about his incredibly anti-social son with the ability to make people forget him and ignore him entirely, in a new school? Sure Robin had crippling anxiety and depression and sometimes was sick at even the thought of going to school and struggled to keep his grades up because of how often he dipped out after having bad panic attacks but…

“It can’t be any worse than the one I’m at now.”

Chen let out a dry chuckle at that, and Robin could see it did seem to comfort his dad some.

“That’s...True, I suppose. It will be a good fresh start for the both of us. I promise.”

Chapter 2

The rest of the night and most of the morning was spent frantically packing away whatever was left needing to be packed, but then by noon their belongings had been collected, Robin had officially been taken off of his old schools roster, and he and his father, as well as Spoon, had piled into the car and were driving not too far behind.

Robin couldn’t say he was sad about moving from his old school. He was always being bullied constantly despite his dad being one of the most intimidating teachers there. Part of why he was so anti-social and had a very tight “Don’t look at me” telepathic guard. Better to just keep people away and out of his life, he doesn’t trust people who aren’t his family. His Dad and his dog are the only people he feels safe around, and it’s been that way since he was a child…

About an hour into the car ride, Robin had fallen asleep. He wasn’t exactly in the most comfortable of positions, but with the rumbling of the car, the radio playing music quietly, and the rain beating down from the skies, creating a rhythmic and almost comfortable atmosphere…

Well, he hadn’t really slept all week. Major anxiety about the next school day and homework keeping him up. He had been largely relying on coffee to keep him going. Coffee and soda plus whatever random nutritional drink his dad offered him, to try and put some bulk on him. So it surprised no one when he drifted off…

Robin may have been exhausted, but he hated sleeping. Too many memories to creep up on him. Too much fuel for his nightmares.

This rest was no different. Flashes of needles, being held down, blood running down his arm and a bright light...Then sirens in the distance, large hands carrying him, crying into the shoulder of some stranger he doesn’t even remember…

That wasn’t even the worst nightmare he’s had, but it’s still enough for him to jolt in his seat and wake up gasping, arms burning and seatbelt suddenly uncomfortably tight.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

Robin flinches lightly as his father reaches out to touch his shoulder, but relaxes into it some after his rational brain catches up to his fight or flight instincts. He inhales, holds his breath for a few seconds, then exhales. At least he isn’t on the verge of hyperventilating anymore...Still, he can feel his hands trembling lightly, so he sticks them inside his hoodie pocket.

“Bad dream?”

Chen knows it was. He knows what Robin dreams of. Knows what happened. Well, as much as anyone knows what happened. But Robin’s distress is obvious, even if the teenager takes a second to collect himself with a small nod, face that was pulled into an expression of fear and confusion just a few seconds earlier quickly schooling itself back in a neutral scowl at the glove compartment.

“Yeah...Yeah. But it’s fine. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Chen knows Robin better than that, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he just lets his son go, leaning back in his own seat and letting out an awkward groan as he stretches his arms above his head, back and shoulders popping and cracking in protest. Even Robin cringes at the noise.

There’s silence between the two for a little bit, the only real noise being Robin shaking his leg, and Spoon panting like a happy pup in the boot of the car. It’s not as if he was cramped and shut in though, there was still enough room and space for him.

Robin breaks it first, feeling awkward.

“So...Is this the place?”

Leaning forward slightly to look up at the house before them, Robin finally realises it doesn’t seem like they’re planning to drive anymore. Did he really sleep for three hours?

Chen’s only answer is a quick but bright grin, then a short “Yep!”. After, he climbs out of the car, then walks around to open up Robin’s side.

Robin sort of tumbled out, but he does manage to stay standing. And afterwards, he stretches his limbs some. It’s not as if he had been cramped in the car, being as small as he was, but still...Sleeping in an awkward position for hours wasn’t something he could recommend.

Walking up the gravel driveway to stand beside his dad, Robin looks up at their new home.

It was two stories. Big, and Robin could see two sets of windows and even a smaller, clouded up one. A bathroom perhaps? On the lower level there seemed to be two large rooms judging by the windows, maybe a living room and kitchen, and finally, they also had a porch! With a swing seat on it!!!

Robin could see the beginnings of a fence on either side of the back of the house, so he supposed that was their garden. Wonder what it looked like...Chen had commented that it was big, but how big was, well, big?

Hearing a bark coming from behind them, Robin had to smile. Turning around, Chen walked over to open the large padded boot of the car, letting Spoon hop out. The Greyhound almost immediately bound out of the car, barking joyfully at nothing in particular. He ran a few random laps of his owners, before finally deciding to stop next to a street lamp post to relieve himself.

Lovely.

Robin was startled out of watching his hyperactive dog by Chen putting his hand on Robin’s shoulder, but Robin managed to suppress the surprised flinch. He always felt bad when he couldn’t because his dad always felt just as guilty...But right now, all Robin could read from Chen was “Happy”...Robin didn’t have a certain feeling or opinion on all of this yet, but...It was a new beginning, like Chen said. What could be the harm?

Chapter 3

After the moving van had dropped off their stuff, Chen and Robin spent the rest of the day moving it inside. It wasn’t like they had much, but still, it was a lot of work for two people. They managed to drag their couch inside though, along with their mattresses. Chen had deconstructed their beds to make it easier to move them, and planned to rebuild them in the morning. That was fine with Robin.

After that they just had to carry boxes into their house, which wasn’t too hard. They got piled up in the corner of the living room, along with their small tv. Wifi wouldn’t be on for a couple of days though, but at least they had a radio and Robin had a rather extensive book collection and some data on his phone if he got really bored.

So now, at six in the afternoon, the pair were sitting on chairs around the dining table in the kitchen that was already there when they arrived, eating instant noodles and silently listening to the boring news droning on in the background.

Robin had zoned out for the most part. He was staring down at his food, silently picking and eating at it. He wasn’t very hungry. His brain picked up a few of his dads stray thoughts here and there, but they weren’t very interesting. Unpacking boxes, calling some companies, getting work clothes set out, building stuff up, moving house stuff Robin supposed you could label it.

One thought did catch his attention though.

“Gonna have to call Robin’s new school…”

“New School?”

Robin couldn’t help it. He blurted it out before he could stop it, and immediately his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed sheepishly as he watched Chen’s own eyes widen for a few seconds, before he sighed and shook his head.

“Robin, what did we say about mind reading.”

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Robin almost immediately started rocking back and forth slightly in his chair. It was a nervous habit of his. He knew Chen wouldn’t yell at him for it but sometimes his body instinctively slipped back into old habits before he could stop it. It was used to anticipating slaps and insults, and maybe even being shut tight in a room with telepathic dampeners blasting until he was crying. Even ten years later…

“Robin? Hey, hey, it’s fine kiddo. I know you can’t help it sometimes. It’s okay.”

Chen saying his name pulled him out of his thoughts again, and Robin realised he was breathing a little too heavily. Ugh, he hated it when he got like this. When stupid memories clouded his stupid judgement over the tiniest of things.

Swallowing around the thick lump that had appeared in his throat, Robin just nods, before shakily pushing himself up from the table. He couldn’t bring himself to look his Father in the eyes. He didn’t want to see the worry or sympathy.

“I’ll be a minute…”

“Robin-“

Robin doesn’t pause, and Chen doesn’t go after him. He just needs a few minutes. A few minutes to clear his brain, splash his face with some water, put his guards up so he doesn’t do that again tonight. Both read Chen’s mind and have an involuntary break down over an old memory he didn’t even need to be worrying about.

Entering the bathroom on the ground level of the house, Robin locks the door behind him. From there he walks over to the sink, turning on the cold tap. It’s dark, but he doesn’t bother turning on the light. He doesn’t want to see right now.

Once he’s deemed the water cold enough, he holds his hands under it, letting it spill into his hands. He leans forward, closes his eyes, and finally splashes it on his face.

He does this several times, each one harsher than the last. He knows he shouldn’t be so mean to himself but sometimes, knowing was different to wanting to not be mean to himself.

Call him a masochist, he called himself broken.

But gathering himself together again, he grabs the small hand towel hanging on a rack. He dries his face with it as much as possible, as well as rubbing it over his hair, and he lets out a small sigh as he hangs it back up.

He’s okay now. Or as okay as he can be.

He takes a deep breath, unlocks the door, then steps out of the bathroom.

Straight into his father’s arms.

He’s caught off guard by this. How long had Chen been standing there? Every instinct in him tells him to fight, to lash out and get away from the sudden hold.

But he kicks those back down. He doesn’t need them. Instead, he relaxes. That in turn seems to make Chen relax even more, and his hold on his adopted son tighten.

“I know you don’t like to talk about things, Robin, but...I’m here for you. You’re my son, I love you, and...I just want you to be able to talk to me and feel happy and safe…”

Robin couldn’t help but wince at that. Not because of Chen entirely, but because, well...He felt guilty. He did feel safe and able to talk, he just...Didn’t ever know how to start.

“I know, Dad...I love you too…”

It was the best answer he could give Chen. At the moment, anyway…

“Okay…”

Chen finally pulls back then, but one hand does go up to pat Robin’s head gently and affectionately. It’s always been a small thing between them. It actually calms Robin considerably.

“I wanted to talk to you about school, but it can wait until tomorrow. Get some rest, kiddo. You’ve had a long day.”

As if on cue, Robin moved his hand up to his mouth to stifle a loud yawn. It just made his Dad laugh in amusement. Robin hadn’t really felt tired until that moment, but now…

Robin hated sleeping, but he could definitely feel it tugging at him. It had been a few days since he’d actually slept through the night…

Maybe if he took enough pills…

What if he…

Robin inhaled perhaps a little too sharply, and shook the thought from his head. No. Not going there tonight.

“Yeah...I’ll try, pops.”

Robin gave Chen a small smile. He was too exhausted to try for a bigger and brighter one. A more convincing one…

After that, he made to walk past Chen, to go upstairs. On his way past, Chen ruffles his hair. It’s something he’s always done before Robin goes to bed. Robin usually complains, and tonight was no different. He tuts and whines “Daaaaaaaad”, which earns a chuckle out of his adopted Father. It’s normalcy they need. Especially in such an unfamiliar setting…

But Chen lets go of his sons head, who in turn trudges up the stairs. He kicks off his jeans as soon as he’s in the door of his bedroom, pulling on some pyjama bottoms from the pile of clothing sitting on a still unopened box, then walks over to his mattress, already covered in his pillows and blankets, and he flops onto them. He just lies there, not thinking about anything in particular. He doesn’t count on getting any sleep, was probably just going to wait for a bit then turn on the lights to read a book.

But he closes his eyes. And...They stay closed. His mind stays inactive. No nightmares or past traumas coming to haunt him.

Just...Blissful radio silence. As well as a peaceful rest.

#writing #my writing #ficlet #oc #my oc #Robin Monrosa #sidestep #fh #fallen hero #fallen hero: rebirth #fh: rb #Wei Chen #highschool au #tw past child abuse #tw ptsd #tw trauma #tw insomnia #tw blood #tw needles #tw panic attacks #tw depression #tw anxiety #tw dissociation #tw suicidal thoughts #tw self harm #tw suicidal tendencies #tw nightmares

[caramell0w]

Pen Pals- Chapter 3

Parings: Tom X Reader

Summary: You’re Pen pals with Tom but you don’t know it’s Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry this seemed to take me forever to write.  I kinda love this chapter and I hope you do as well.  As always, tags are open and feedback is appreciated!  Enjoy!

Word Count: 2060

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

If you like my fanfic, check out my books

The move went as smoothly as was to be expected.  You arrived a day before all your stuff, so the first night you were stuck on an air mattress.  The movers arrived the next day with all your stuff and you were so thankful to not have to spend another night on the uncomfortable blow up bed.  You were to start work the beginning of the following week, so you had some time to unpack.  You figured it would be a good idea to start; but you wanted to explore the new city too.

One box became two, and two became ten.  You emptied the boxes and broke them down.  Everything you were doing was auto pilot and before you knew it, the majority of the apartment was unpacked.  You sat down on the love seat and took a deep breath.  The cable company would be there in the morning and you were low on data so you didn’t want to use your phone.  Not knowing the city and not having data to use was going to be a slight problem. You figured you could find a local coffee shop and find wifi so you could connect and email Tom.

You stepped outside into the sun and you had to squint until your eyes adjusted to the light.  The sun seemed brighter in California than back home. Your apartment was located in a large building in a nice part of town.  There is no way you would be able to afford it under normal circumstances; but when you accepted the position to work on the Marvel account, you secured yourself a hefty raise.  You looked to the right and left trying to decide which way to go.  You went with your gut and turned right.

The buildings were different shades of grey and brown and were towering over you.  You felt so small in comparison, it was a bit intimidating and you had to shake your head to clear your thoughts.  You focused your gaze straight ahead just in time to walk into someone running down the street.  He knocked into you and you took two steps back before regaining your balance.

“So sorry,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.  “Are you ok?” he asked jogging in place.

“I’m fine,” you huffed. “Please continue your run, don’t let me get in the way.” It left your mouth and you realized just how bitchy it sounded. “Sorry, I’m fine. Just go,” you started walking away. He turned to watch you walk the opposite direction before continuing on his jog. You rubbed your shoulder and winced a little as you found a tender spot. It was going to be bruised in the morning, you were sure of it. After walking another two blocks you found a small coffee shop called The French Press. You walked in and inhaled deeply, it smelt like heaven. The display case in front of the cashier had all sorts of French pastries- croissants, eclairs, macaroons; everything looked delicious. Your stomach grumbled as you reached the counter to place your order.

You found a spot in a corner next to the window to enjoy your coffee and chocolate croissant and pulled your phone out of your purse. Connecting to the Wifi, you opened your email to find a note from Tom.

To: Y/N

Subject: Move went OK?

Hey Darling,

I wanted to see how the move went for you? I hope you arrived safely and that everything is up to your standards. Moving can be very stressful, please make sure you get plenty of rest; you don’t want to get sick before you start your new job. I’ll be in Los Angeles in a few days, you still haven’t answered my question about if we can meet up. I don’t want to seem like the creepy stalker guy, but I have known you so long without knowing you. I need to put a face to the name. We can meet somewhere public, such as a restaurant so you feel more comfortable if you would like.

I very much look forward to meeting you in person. Talk soon.

Yours,

Tom

You sighed and took a bite of your food thinking of what to write. You typed and deleted the email message a dozen times before you finally were able to compose an email that didn’t sound horrible.

To: Tom

Subject: RE: Move went OK?

Hey Tom,

The move went well, and I’m sure I will be covered in bruises in the next few days from the boxes. I’ll also have a massive bruise on my shoulder from a runner that ran right into me today; but overall I think I’ll survive.

Sorry I have been avoiding the subject. It’s just scary for me. Like you said, I’ve known you for so long; but I don’t really know you. Yes, we can meet. Let’s figure out something once you get here.

XoXo

Y/N

After hitting the send button you gathered your stuff and walked home.  The rest of the weekend went by in a blur but you were excited to meet your new team Monday morning.  

Your alarm went off Monday morning and you got up, and got ready for the day, a smile plastered on your face.  You made your way into downtown LA and parked your car in a spot designated for you at the marketing firm.  The building looked like any other in a small business park, but you had a feeling it was going to be special real fast.  As you walked into the building and up to the reception desk, you were greeted by a friendly face.

“Good morning, can I help you?” The woman asked sweetly.

“Good morning, my name’s Y/N and I’m the new project manager,” you smiled at the woman.

“Oh!  Hi,” he replied enthusiastically.  “We are so happy to have you here, let me get Joe for you and he can show you the ropes.”  She got up from her desk and walked down a short hallway and entered an office on the right.  A few seconds later she was walking back with Joe on her heels.

“Y/N, welcome,” he said extending his hand and you placed yours in his for a shake. “We’re so glad you could join our team here.  Let me introduce you to your team.”

“That sounds great, I’m very excited to be here.”

He lead you down the hall and stopped at cubicles on the way to your office to say hello and do introductions with the team.  There was Stacy, Rob, Nelly and Julie.  The team seemed very welcoming and you were thrilled to be on board.

“This is your office,” Joe said motioning for you to enter the office space.  There was a computer set up on a nice mahogany desk and phone. The room was basic, but you would have no problem adding a person touch to the place.  Joe informed you there was a team meeting in 1 hour in the conference room across from your office.  You thanked him and got to work setting up your computer and phone.

The meeting was exactly what you expected, there were introductions and Joe went over the contract for Marvel Studios.  Your team was responsible for the marketing of the movie, and setting up the press tour. You learned that your team had worked for other smaller movies in the past and they were familiar with setting up a tour schedule.  The caliber of this movie was greater than any of you were used to so it was nerve-racking.

The morning flew by and it was lunch time before you knew it. You headed back to your office to do some research and opened and email from Joe.

To: Y/N, Nelly, Rob, Stacy, Julie

Subject: Cast meeting

Team,

Marvel Studios has invited us to come by the studio to meet the cast of Thor. This way you can talk to the cast and get a better idea how to schedule the press tour and sell the merchandise (since we don’t have access to see the movie yet…give it another month or so and we will get an advanced screening).  We’ll be heading over at 3pm today.

Joe

‘Well that was unexpected,’ you thought as you type up a quick sounds great response.  Two hours until you were going to go and you decided to grab a bite to eat and check your person email.  You ran across the street to a small deli and order a half sandwich and soup and brought it back to the office.  You took a seat at your desk and logged into your email to find one from Tom.

To: Y/N

Subject: Meeting today

Hello Darling,

Sorry to hear about the runner, hope you aren’t too banged up.  I’m glad to hear the move went well and I assume you are all settled in now.

I am with the cast of my movie today and we are meeting with a marketing group so they can set up a press tour for us.  It should be interesting.  I’m a bit nervous as I’ve never done press tours this size before.  I hope they have some fantastic ideas for the movie and how we should be promoting it.

Please tell me about your day when you got home this evening.  I look forward to hearing about it.  Maybe we can get a drink tomorrow?  I figure tonight would not be a good night, being your first day at a new job; you will probably be exhausted this evening.  Please let me know, there is a great Italian restaurant called Mangia Mangia that we could meet at.

Yours,

Tom

That email was..odd. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and you palms were sweaty.  What’s the chance there were multiple meetings with marketing companies taking place today in the same city?  You went to IMDB and looked up the cast of Thor.  You looked at the cast, and third name down was Tom Hiddleston who was playing Loki.  You clicked on his picture and started reading the small bio attached to his IMDB page.  His birthday was February 2, 1981 and his name Thomas William Hiddleston.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled under your breath.  You’re mind was going a mile a minute and you were trying to get your thoughts to slow down. You were 98 percent sure this gorgeous man was your pen pal and the runner that slammed into you the other day. You lost your appetite and pushed your food to the side feeling slightly sick.  You stared at your computer for a while before you heard a knock on your door.

“Hey Y/N.  You ready to go?  Joe’s waiting for us,” Stacy smiled at you.

“Y-yeah.  I’m ready,” you said, picking up your purse and locking your computer.

“Are you OK?  You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

“Yeah, I’ll be ok. Must be jitters of meeting some big movie stars,” you chuckled trying to change the subject.

It was a short drive to the studio and you were all supplied guest passes as you walked through security. You all were ushered into a large conference room and told the cast would be by in a few minutes.  You tried to bring to focus to work; but you were having a difficult time doing so.  After what felt like ages, the door opened and the cast walked in.  He was more beautiful than the pictures you had seen and it felt like your heart had stopped.  Introductions were made and when it was your turn, you fumbled over your words.

“H-hi. I’m Y/N and um, I’m the project manager.  I will be your contact if anything is needed, though I imagine it will be your publicists that contact me if you have any questions.”

You looked at Tom and he tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brows; his eyes never leaving yours.  You could feel your face get hot as you blushed and turned your head from his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.  How’s the shoulder?” Tom asked and gave you a lopsided smile.  Your mouth popped open along with your eyes and you swallowed hard.

“Twh921981?” You asked, holding your breathing waiting for the answer.

“Glad to finally meet you,” he smiled.

Tags are always open:

@jksnick07 @courtneychicken @anorracorvin  @kudosia  @janelock221 @4theluvofall @sarahmatthews7​

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom x reader #pen pals #chapter 3 #marvel fanfiction #caramell0w #twhiddleston #hiddles #tom hiddleston fanfic