#I usually just get sent home with Benadryl

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 18

Achilles Castle part 83

Lemonade and lies PART 26

Kate: pov after hitting the drive through we head back to the loft. We make it inside without getting too wet. Castle made himself a sandwich for dinner. I grab some paper plates to put our food on. Muncy and Jet both got nuggets and fries with soda, Liv got a burger and fries with water. I got grilled chicken and grilled vegetables with water. The four of us are sitting at the dining room table talking while we eat, Muncy suggests that we play 20 questions.

Question 1

Muncy: pov What is the hardest thing you had to overcome besides the death of a loved one or friend, because that is already hard. Why did I pick a question that I can't answer yet?

Liv: pov 100 percent Lewis nothing beats that.

Kate: pov being shot and all the trauma surrounding that and recovering from heart surgery.

Question 2

Jet: pov wow i don't think i can top that, what are your favorite pizza toppings mine is pepperoni.

Liv: pov extra cheese or pepperoni. Those are both Noah's favorite topping, Bri likes to put weird stuff on his pizza.

Kate: pov the local pizza place makes me a special pizza, I usually get it plain.

Muncy: pov pineapple is my favorite pizza topping. Fin told me it's gross to like pineapple on pizza.

Jet: pov ew who could eat pineapple on pizza that is so nasty.

Liv: pov sorry Muncy I agree with Fin. It's also weird to put pineapple on pizza. But if you like it that is all that matters.

Muncy: pov Kate do you like pineapple on pizza?

Kate: pov i’m actually allergic to pineapple, the last time I ate It I had a horrible rash. Thankfully It wasn't too bad and I didn't have to go to the hospital. Benadryl and an oatmeal bath took care of it. My Doctors aren't sure if I'm severely allergic or mildly. But with my medical history it is better to play it safe than sorry. I have to stay away from pineapple from now on.

Jet: pov did they give you an epi-pen in case you have another reaction to pineapple. I had a friend in high school who had to carry one around. It worked quickly at stopping her reaction from getting worse, it saved her life a few times.

Kate: pov I can't use an epi-pen it contains epinephrine,

Muncy: pov why are you allergic or something.

Liv: pov Kate says while pointing to her chest, epinephrine is known to cause cardiac issues like arrhythmia in some people

Jet: pov Oh it makes sense since you have a heart condition.

Kate: pov Yeah and with my previous cardiac arrests i’m more susceptible to severe arrhythmia.

Question 3

Muncy: pov bath or shower. I like showers because they are quick. But baths are also nice every now and then.

Liv: pov I love baths but rarely get to take them because I'm so busy all of the time, so I usually just take a shower. No time for baths

Jet: pov I actually like showering because it's quick and the water doesn't get cold so quick and you are not sitting in water that you made dirty.

Kate: pov I like baths but take more showers. I will be happy if I never have to see a shower chair again. But that's not going to happen. Or plastic wrap that stuff is a hassle but very needed after heart surgery, especially when you can't get your stitches wet. It Just reminds me of the struggles I faced or as my therapist would say overcame. I used that thing so much during my recovery.

Jet: pov shower chair, is that, like a chair you put in the shower?

Kate: pov yeah there was a time when i couldn't stand so I needed it, once I started Physical therapy and Roger helped me walk again I needed it less and less. I was sent home from the hospital with a wheelchair, and a lovely heart monitor which I hated. That thing was so loud when it beeped.

Muncy: pov wow you had to learn how to walk again, that must have been hard .

Kate: pov sort of, I wasn't mobile for a while so I needed some assistance walking in the beginning.

Question 4

Liv : pov something you're scared of i’m not really scared of anything after Lewis i can handle anything maybe letting myself down.

Muncy: pov i’m scared of big bugs.

Jet: pov everyone is scared of bugs. I'm scared of dying, that's my biggest fear.

Kate: pov death actually isn't that bad, it's coming back to life that is. I think I'm scared about what my future will look like. Will I be able to have kids, would I need more surgeries in the future. By the way I'm not scared of bugs but Castle is, he screams like a girl.

Question 5

Muncy: pov what is your worst on the job injury, I think we all know what Kate's is. I injured my leg once.

Liv: pov I have a few let's see I was stabbed off duty, poisoned by mushrooms, inhaled a toxic chemical, sliced in the neck, injured my leg, assaulted more than once, shot and finally tortured by Lewis.

Jet: pov wow that's a lot is there something bad that hasn't happened to you,I also have broken some bones.

Kate: pov mine would be getting shot, and having emergency heart surgery. That whole first week after being shot I was unconscious in the CICU. A machine was breathing for me because of my collapsed lung, I had a chest tube draining fluid out of my chest. I was on so many medications keeping me stable. When I woke up I remember being in so much pain, after they took out the breathing tube I was so much more comfortable. The chest tube stayed in for a while. I was constantly having tachycardia episodes which concerned the Dr's but they finally found the right balance of medications to stop them. I had a catheter in for a while since I couldn't get up to use the bathroom. I wasn't allowed up or to walk for a while because I was on a heart rate restriction so I had to use a wheelchair for a while. Couldn't go out in public for a while because I had a weakened immune system.

Muncy: pov I beat you got around quickly in your wheelchair. To be continued. ….

[older-and-far-away]

My fun thanksgiving week:

So, on Thursday, I started noticing pressure sensitive itching ALL over. Which is super cool because scratching makes it INSTANTLY TEN TIMES WORSE.

On Friday I called out of work because I felt not only itchy but also generally awful. Now I don't know if I got exposed to a little virus and that upset my immune system or if my immune system was so upset it just took me out, but either way I was suddenly sick and had to call out of work.

Half an hour later, my boss called to yell at me for calling out with no coverage available and said unless I could get coverage for the next day I had to be there.

So itching everywhere and feeling like death, unwashed and in my sweats and slippers, I drove to the city and made it two hours into my shift Saturday before I felt so awful I couldn't go on and broke down crying and my coworkers sent me home. I went home to try to sleep and the itching was so bad I couldn't even relax and I took myself over to the ER and they gave me some low dose Prednisone and stronger Benadryl.

I went home and spent the next three days mostly in bed itching (like my skin was on FIRE, mind you), and trying to sleep through the itching. I had no appetite and have royally screwed up my SSRIs which is a fun adventure for next week me to deal with.

Here are some fun pictures of my itchy blotchy skin:

A lot of those aren't from scratching, despite looking like it. List from the soft waistband of my pants or...um...air, I guess. 🙄

Anyway, went BACK to urgent care yesterday and got a DIFFERENT antihistamine and a stronger graduated course of prednisone that I started this morning. I managed to eat about 1/4 of a bowl of phô yesterday! AND a few bites of bread!

(I keep wondering why I'm so week and shaky and then remember I basically didn't eat for 4 or 5 days. I lost about 5 pounds between my ER visit on Saturday night and my urgent care appointment Wednesday morning)

This is me this morning before my new high prednisone dose, after a shower - hot water really brings out those histamines but it is NOVEMBER and I am not taking a cool shower.

This is so fun!

Anyway, usually on Thanksgiving, my friends and I do an adventure day but this year I will just be dropping by my mom's friendsgiving, briefly, IF I have the energy.

Anyway, still pretty itchy but I think the steroids ARE kicking in. 🤞🤞🤞🤞

This is so fun

[deada55]

Halloween at Eleven

synopsis: Nathan and Pickles' halloween as new middle-schoolers.

content warnings: vomit, suicide reference; both in the second half.

for kloktober day 31, free choice!

Halloween at Eleven

    “Nathan? It’s seven o’clock-”

    Rose loaded a bag of candy into a uranium glass mixing bowl and looked out the window to the kids starting to tool around the sidewalks. A little pumpkin held a babysitter’s hand and toddled up the road, too small to hold his own bucket for candy without tumbling over. 

    Nathan came down the hall in his completed costume and a face full of chunky grease paints slathered on with some cosmetic sponges and an old paintbrush. He’d done most of the work himself, and used puffy paint and Liqui-Stitch to glue on felt bones, made from patterns traced from anatomy book plates from the library, to an old black shirt and Rit-dyed sweatpants. 

    Oscar raised the question last night, and how was Rose going to fight it if Nathan so seamlessly agreed? If he were ready, she’d have to be, and she ought to be grateful that he was coming to a… a “bildungsroman” moment on his own accord and not getting shoved into it from pure necessity. Middle school was tough.

    “Ooh, good job, Nathan. I like what you did for your face.”

    He didn’t react, but he picked up the plastic pumpkin from the dining table.

    “Be home at 8:30, ok?” She wouldn’t panic until 9:00- he couldn’t stand wearing a watch. With as little as he looked at her, he must have been excited to go. She got a reluctant hug and kissed the side of his head (to keep the makeup intact; she was careful of it.)

    She walked him walk down the first couple feet of road before bursting into a run down out of the cul-de-sac.

    “There he goes.” Oscar’s arms crossed over her thumping chest. The weight of him pulled her shoulders back and kept her hands from lunging forward for the dishes. His breath turned her head away from that window, and she couldn’t sit and wait to see if Nathan would come sprinting back with a bloody nose.

...

    Molly sat back and sighed at her aching hands, but the outfit was complete even after a week’s worth of overtime at the School Board office and fighting the insurance company over inhalers. She would have refused to make costumes altogether this year if she had to make two of them, but Seth had some plans with his little school friends, leaving her with a McCall’s pattern for a stupid little suit guaranteed to get Pickles punched in the stomach if kids these days had any sense at all. If she’d known Star Wars would have been such a big deal, she wouldn’t have taken him to see it in the first place.

    It didn’t help that she’d taken him to see it during several daytime showings, just to give her two hours to herself. Seth usually stayed home, which ended up fine, but every time she left both of them to their own devices, Pickles ended up making a terrific mess, like the time he took a whole blister pack of Benadryl and ruined the shower curtain with a bright pink spray of vomit, or cleared out the emergency coffee can money (that only her and Seth knew about, the nerve!) or broke his brother’s closet rod clear in half with a noose.

    He looked like an idiot, but she sent him out with a suit made out of an old set of sheets and a Star Wars pillowcase. She tried to warn him yesterday about how stupid he’d look, wandering around with a toy mask when he was in middle school, but he kept talking until she’d had all she could take of the sound of his voice and went to bed.

    “Bye, Mom! I’ll be back-” 

    “Sure, Pickles. I think you better be going now.”

    He looked back at her with a pout that made her want to shatter the glass door of her china cabinet to give him something real to frown at. Once he was out of the doorway, she locked the door behind him.

[morizoras-cave]

Purple Patches

Benedict Cumberbatch x Teen!Co-Star!Reader, Tom Holland x Teen!Co-star!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

Description: Filming the newest Dr. Strange movie (in which Tom would also appear), you grow quite close with the two leads, Tom and Benedict. But you’re hiding something alarming from them. Four months in the entire crew get a week off to see their families for Christmas, and when you return Tom and Benedict can’t help but feel troubled, as your body is rippled with purple patches.

Warnings: CHILD ABUSE, physical abuse, broken family, alcoholism, depression, anxiety??

A/N: I had another imagine written but im ngl its kind of.. weird? its unconventional for sure. and its definitely bad. so, maybe ill rewrite someday or something? ALSO SORRY IF YOU DONT CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS, JUST IMAGINE YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF EVIL CHRISTIAN STEP DAD WHO FORCES IT INTO YOUR FAMILY

The taxi you sat in drove slowly in the New York traffic, as snow fell outside, coating the entire city in blinding white. You couldn’t enjoy it however. Your entire body hurt, and yet you still couldn’t find even a moment to worry about your health. All you could think about was them.

Tom and Benedict. Your sweetest coworkers, and at this point your closest.. anything. Family, friends? Who cares, you had no one else. You’d gone back for the holidays like everyone else, even though you wished you could have just stayed at in your trailer. Your dad, like any other time you saw him, had used this time to pour his anger and alcoholism out on you. Your body which had finally begun to heal, was now back to square one, covered in cuts and bruises. 

You knew what would happen if anyone found out. You’d be taken from your family. But in truth, although you hated being around him, you wanted to wait for your dad. You wanted to wait for him to get over his alcoholism, you wanted him to get better, and then he’d treat you better. 

But they would find out. You were covered in bruises and purple patches. Your face was fine, except for your neck, but the rest of your body was ruined. Ugly. You could hide most of it, but it hurt. Even just sitting there, in the soft and plush taxi seat, you body was aching and wailing like a police siren. 

And what if they noticed you foundation-covered hands? Or the movie required you to wear something more revealing? 

“You okay?” the deep voice of your taxi driver ripped you from your thoughts. A single tear had slid down your face. You cleared your throat and nodded, wiping the tear from your cheek. 

You arrived at the set, and an impossible knot had been tied in your stomach. Nervousness tingled in your heart and your legs, but you got up anyway, trying to calm your breath. The moment you stood up, you winced and stopped. 

You managed to roll your luggage to your trailer, biting your lip continuously in order to keep yourself from screaming. You threw it on the floor of your trailer, whimpering and doubling over in pain. 

“Y/n!” a rapid knock on your door, interrupted you. It was Tom’s voice. You took a shaky breath, closing your eyes, and then opening the door. Tom stood there in your doorway like a smiling idiot. Your lips widened into a smile just from seeing him.

“Y/n!” he repeated stepping inside and wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You bit your lip again, hiding your pain-wrenched face in his chest, before hugging him back. He placed his head on yours sweetly. “I missed you!” he gushed. 

You hit his chest playfully, “I missed you too,” you frowned for a moment and looked away. Tom’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay?” You simply nodded. Tom stared at you for a moment and then shook his head. “Anyway, um, Benedict asked me to tell you that he’s invited both of us youngsters out for dinner tonight. Just as one last ‘fuck you!’ to work, before officially start back up tomorrow.”

“That does sound like something he would do,” you agreed and Tom laughed, punching your shoulder playfully. You yelped loudly, retreating quickly from him. 

“Woah,” he exclaimed, holding his hands up, “Are you okay? What happened to your shoulder?” 

“I fell,” you said. Nervousness jabbed at your ribs. You’d barely talked to Tom for a minute and he’d already asked if you were okay twice. He seemed to buy your explanation, and apologized for accidentally hitting your sore shoulder, to which you nodded absently. 

Tom was silent for a couple of heartbeats. He studied you. You were not usually like this. Or maybe you had been a little like this those four months ago, when you first started filming. He didn’t understand what caused you to be that way, so distant and unhappy. 

“Hey, anyway, I’m gonna go, I’m trying to actually read the script this time,” he joked, and you laughed because you knew it was a hopeless task. 

“Have fun,” you mumbled, and as soon he left, you body slid down against the wall, and your facade crumbled, tears leaving your eyes.

___________________________

Before the dinner, you took three pain killers. Then, you waited restlessly, hoping that the pills might kick in. They did but your body felt strange and buzzy. You ignored it, a blossoming hope forming in your chest that you might be able to conceal your pain in the pills and the clothing. 

Benedict came knocking on your door around 7, a smile on his face. “Y/n!” he said, and you both hugged. A small smile had formed on your lips, when you actually managed to deal with the ache, now much weaker than previously.

You both then walked to Tom’s trailer, and then the three of you walked to a restaurant, not too far from your filming location.

“So, what have you two been up to in our little break?” Benedict asked once you all sat down, having ordered already. You glanced at Tom, hoping that he’d start. 

“Me and my brothers went back home to our mum and dad. Had a pretty regular Christmas. I gave the best gifts. I got some pretty cool socks,” Tom joked around. You and Benedict stifled a laugh. Then both Ben and Tom looked at you, and you realized it was your turn to tell them about what you’d been up to. 

“Oh, well, I.. I spent Christmas with my parents. My grandparents and cousins also came,” you were lying through your teeth. You avoided their eyes, sipping your soda. 

“Got any presents?” Benedict asked and you cursed at yourself internally for forgetting such a simple part of Christmas. And for making things awkward. 

“I got some clothes, some books. Pretty standard stuff,” you forced a smile, “What about you, Benadryl?”

Benedict rolled his eyes at your comment, making you and Tom fist-bump one another, giggling quietly as he told you about his own Christmas. The night was going alright, except for that rough start. Mostly you avoided any talk of your family, and you could feel yourself getting better, the further the conversation got from your family. Until-

“Y/n, what’s that on your hand?” 

Instinctively, you pulled your hand to your lap, straightening yourself up and gulping. You looked down, pretending to inspect it and then looked up. 

“It’s, uh, it’s dirt. Wow, I should really go wash my hands, haha-” Tom grabbed your hand from under the table, pulling it towards him. Your foundation was wearing off, a large purple patch stemming from your wrist and snaking up your hand revealing itself. 

You couldn’t breathe. Both Tom and Ben just stared at it. You tried to pull back but Tom was much stronger than you. Tears blurred your vision. 

“Y/n, what is this?” Tom whispered, and you felt his fingers rubbing the bruise gently. The tears finally fell, and now both men were looking at you. Benedict looked serious. It was an expression you’d never really seen on his features before, at least not outside of your acting. 

“I-I fell..” you mumbled, but you knew it was useless. 

“Y/n.. Who did this?” Benedict’s voice was low, gently setting a hand on your shoulder. You flinched. 

“I don’t know.. I don’t..” 

“Y/n!” Tom’s voice was raised. You immediately jumped away from them both, putting your arms in front of you in fear. Several people turned to look at you three. Shaking, you lowered your hands, and saw Tom and Ben staring at you worriedly. Tom had tears in his eyes. 

“Let’s talk about this back at the studio, okay?” Benedict, now afraid to touch you, spoke slowly and comfortingly. You nodded and then two men got up, standing on either side of you, grabbing one of your hands each. 

“Was it your dad?” Tom growled as you walked in the night, moon rising in the sky. 

“Yes..” you whispered, so low you wondered if they heard it, but they did. They both exchanged glances. Tom was furious. Benedict was too, but he was collected. Tom itched to ask you more and help you, console you right there on the street, but Benedict sent him a warning look not to. 

You walked back to the studio in silence. The three of you entered your trailer and you quietly wished you had predicted something like this would happen, because the bottle of strong pain killers was still out and open on your kitchen table. 

Benedict spotted them immediately and grabbed them. His eyes narrowed as he read the bottle description. Then he looked at you and then it again. Tom watched helplessly, holding your shoulders gently. 

“How many more are there? Bruises.” Ben was clearly angry. He was losing his cool, hands shaking as he grabbed your hand to pull up your sleeve. You tried to move his hand away, but he slid the sleeve up to your elbow and just stared at the blue, yellow and purple that littered your arm. Tom was frozen beside you. 

Ben slid up your other sleeve, breathing speeding up as he saw more, and then he tugged at the collar of your turtleneck, exposing the jarring and ugly sight of a red handprint. He pulled away suddenly, walking away from you. 

“Fuck!” he yelled, hitting the wall of the trailer. He hung his head low. You jumped and turned around, but Tom simply embraced you, and then sat you both down on the floor. You hid your face in his neck, sobbing again. Tom’s hands slowly rubbed your back. 

“Okay..” said Benedict after a while. You could hear that he’d calmed down. Ben angrily wiped a few tears from his face, turning to you and Tom on the floor. Tom was simply frowning now. He never wanted to let you go. He never wanted any harm to come to you. 

“I’m gonna call the police and get your dad arrested,” he said, and you heard his footsteps, as he wondered what to do next. 

“No!” you exclaimed, scrambling to your feet away from Tom. Both men looked at you in confusion. “No! You can’t do that, he’s- he’s just trying to get better. If I wait a little longer, he’s going to get better.” 

“Y/n..” Benedict whispered sadly and you ran to him hoping to stop him. “You can’t wait for him. You’re putting yourself in danger..” you shook your head, but Ben grabbed your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “he’s a grown man, Y/n. He doesn’t deserve pity or patience. Not after doing this. Nothing excuses this. Nothing.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lip quivering, but still you nodded. 

“Can your mother take care of you?” Ben asked, piercing blue eyes still staring into your soul. There was no point in lying anymore, you knew. 

“No.” 

“Alright, then you’ll stay with me.” Ben declared, “You’ll stay with me until we can find someone from your family who can take care of you.” You looked up at him with shining eyes. Despite the uncomfortable situation you found yourself in, a genuine smile broke out on your face. 

You hugged him, thanking him breathlessly. Ben and Tom made eye contact, and smiled gently at each other. Tom had cried silently at your interaction. The thought that someone would hurt someone he loved so dearly shattered his heart completely. 

“Now,” Benedict said finally, “we need to drive you to the hospital.” 

You agreed and while Tom drove, Ben was in the backseat on the phone with the police department. You just watched the beautiful neon lights shining in the pitch black night, snow illuminating the ground. People still littered the streets. 

You knew it now. Your father didn’t deserve your waiting, and though it would take very long to finally live with and truly understand, it was worth it to start the fight. You truly owed it to the two jerks you worked with. What would you even do with out them?

[jungkookiebus]

The Client pt. II | kth

Genre: smut x ANGST x sex worker!au x some fluff i guess?? Pairing: nondiol!taehyung x sexworker!reader Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: semi-public(?) masturbation (male), finger fucking, vaginal sex, the sex is pretty vanilla but FEELINGS Author’s Note: I’m not putting a summary here because I don’t think the sex work bears repeating, BUT I will say that most of this fic is from Tae’s POV and briefly in the reader’s. Slightly unedited (I blame benadryl), but I hope you enjoy it!

He jingled the loose change, paper clip, and the occasional scrap of paper in his suit pocket. Taehyung stood in line at the coffee shop along with about ten other patrons ahead of him. He checked his watch for the thirtieth time in the last two minutes. Tapping his shoe, he leaned out to look at the person at the counter, seeing what the hold up was. Are you ordering for your family of twelve, what the fuck? he thought to himself. He had a meeting at 9 and it was pushing 8:30. Thankfully, his building was a block away. More people came in the door to stand behind him. He cringed every time he heard the stupid bell over the door. He was antsy, antsy because of the meeting and antsy because…well. He looked at his watch again. 8:31. Maybe he didn’t need caffeine. No, fuck that, he deserved this coffee.

That’s when he heard it. He hadn’t turned around as people came into the shop and piled in behind him; he was too concerned about the people ahead of him. Would it kill them to know their order before they got there? It was a voice he hadn’t expected to hear here, or anywhere for that matter. His fingers tightened around the change and paper clip until they dug into his palm and hurt. Immediately, his hands began to sweat, and he felt his back perspire under his silk shirt. His suit jacket suddenly became suffocating and all at once, coffee was the last thing on his mind. His mind was elsewhere, in a room he knew intimately with a girl whose body he knew better than any woman he had ever been with. The dark, silk fabric of the shirt you had given him felt like cool water across his skin. You looked devastatingly beautiful above him as you straddled his waist. He remembered you smelled like vanilla that night and the feeling of your lingerie bunched in his hands as you sat on his face. Your voice, your smile, your moans, all of it filled his mind in such quick succession that he forgot to breath for a few seconds.

He looked behind him slowly, eyes already averted downwards because he knew you were almost a head shorter than him. You didn’t see him as he turned to look over his shoulder. You looked so casual. You were swathed in an oversized hoodie, hood covering your hair, backpack on, and talking on your phone.

“No, I won’t be available Wednesday night.”

You sounded so professional, so he knew immediately it wasn’t someone you knew. His heart seized in his chest. What did he expect? It was your job and he was your client. He signed a contract when he first met you and he intended to follow your explicit rules because he didn’t know what he’d do if you fired him. No feelings. Wait. Wednesday. He was booked to see you Wednesday. His heart soared at the thought, but then immediately sunk as you spoke again.

“But I do have Friday evening available at six if you’d like. Perfect. Thank you.”

The conversation seemed to end then, so he quickly looked ahead of him, chewing his bottom lip to keep himself from turning around and saying something. He had never seen you in public before, so he wasn’t sure if it was…wrong to talk to you. He decided instead to look ahead and follow dumbly behind the others.

He looked at his watch again. 8:40. Three people ahead of him. You shuffled a little behind him, sniffling. He imagined that you were probably scrolling through your social media or talking to your real life friends. How he wished he had met you normally, like, maybe in a coffee shop. He wanted to laugh at the irony. Then your phone rang, some Twice song he recognized. And, you laughed, and he felt his chest tighten. This time you were talking to someone you knew, and your voice was so airy, so full of happiness, and so fucking beautiful. You had an almost pavlovian effect on him and he felt his mouth salivate suddenly.

Fuck you, Kim Taehyung, do not get a boner in here.

One person ahead of him. You were still talking when he got to the counter so you probably wouldn’t recognize his voice. It didn’t sound like you did as he stumbled over his words as he tried to listen to you at the same time. He shuffled sideways, trying not to turn towards you as he went to the end of the counter. He watched you put your phone on the counter, talking animatedly with the cashier as you politely gave your order and paid. He turned towards a rack of newspapers and stared at them as if they were interesting. You had picked up your phone and continued your conversation as you waited.

“Taehyung!” he heard yelled.

Your conversation didn’t falter. It wasn’t like his name was unique. He knew at least two other Taehyung’s. He kept his back to you as much as possible as he reached out for his drink and ducked out the door. Sighing heavily, he walked quickly to his building, making it just in time to reach his 9:00 meeting only a minute late.

At lunch, he sat at his desk, the cup of ramen steaming next to him as he absently stirred it with his chopsticks. He had closed his door behind him when he came back inside for some privacy. Now, he was sitting at his computer staring at the blank email he was about to type. You had been on his mind all throughout the meeting and if you asked him now, he wouldn’t remember half of it. He was still thinking about you, looking so small behind him, and relaxed. Something about it turned him on and broke his heart at the same time. No feelings. Why did he have to be so soft? Why did he have to be so romantic? He loved being with you and if it meant keeping his stupid mouth shut, he would. But, what if, he asked for it in role play? For an hour he could pretend you were his. For an hour he could treat you how he always wanted and at the end he could pretend it was all an act, like he usually did. One kiss to the corner of your mouth and because that wasn’t enough, he’d leave one on your lips. He’d keep his eyes closed and his thoughts focused solely on your lips against his, memorizing the softness of them, and holding the thought in the forefront of his mind until he could see you again.

He stared at the cursor, watching it blink methodically, thinking how he was going to write this out. He chewed on his lip, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair. The ramen was left, forgotten, and the steam had dissipated into the air. Your face was there in his mind and you were laid out under him in that same hoodie you wore today, eyes closed, perfect mouth formed into an O as his fingers slid inside of you. He had done it so many times that imagining the feeling wasn’t too hard. He was soon unbuckling his belt, undoing the button on his slacks, and had the zipper pulled down and his cock out of his boxers before he could even think twice about it. He had his hand on his cock, pumping himself as he thought of the perfect scenario with you. He could live out his wildest fantasy without you knowing the slightest about his feelings. His head fell back against his chair as he moved his hand faster, twisting his wrist just the way you did. When his fantasy reached its peak, he found himself coming into his hand, and he scrambled quickly to grab a nearby tissue before he made a mess of his suit. He sighed, staring at the ceiling as he held the sticky tissue balled in his hand, wondering what he had become. You were doing things to him he had never felt before. He berated himself again before he exhaled and threw the tissue in the trash. He stood up to right himself before sitting back down, wiping his hand again and grabbing some sanitizer to hold him over before he could go to the bathroom. With determination, he put his fingers to his keyboard and began to type.

Your POV

You heard your phone ping in your pocket as you sat at lunch with your friend outside of a café. She was telling you a story while simultaneously scrolling through facebook, so you didn’t feel too bad about pulling out your phone to see it was an email. You opened it and immediately recognized the email address it was from. Your heart quickened as you opened it, knowing it would be a scenario and requests for your session. It was…so domestic. You felt warmth bloom inside of you as you continued reading, totally ignoring your friend who had yet to notice. Then, you got to the list of requests, always at the bottom after he signed the letter, and you froze in shock at what you saw. The outfit he wanted you to wear was yours, down to the tee. Your gaze immediately shot up and to your surroundings, searching for the familiar dark mop of hair and wide smile, but he was nowhere to be seen. You looked back down at the email at the other requests; just a basic room set up, almost as if you were at home. That quote in the email stood out the most. Well, if it was you that he wanted, it was you you were going to deliver.

Taehyung’s POV

He walked excitedly and quickly among the going home crowd of the evening. It was Wednesday night and his night with you, and he had been on edge all day, willing time to go by faster at work as he kept his eyes glued to the clock. He made it early, which was fine, that gave him more time to calm down and change in the room. When he arrived, he pressed in the passcode you had sent him and was immediately met with the smell of what seemed to be fresh blueberry muffins. It smelled like you had been baking, but he knew that wasn’t true, this was all part of the set up. The room was set up as it usually was, and you had left out strawberry juice for him. He knew thoughtfulness was part of your job, but it made him feel good to know how observant of him you were. He quickly took off his suit and pulled sweatpants and a sweatshirt from his bag and pulled them on, feeling 100 times more comfortable. The small, electronic ding that signaled it was okay for him to enter sounded in the room. More nervous than he had ever been, he rubbed his palms on his thighs before getting up and going to the door. He held his hand there for a second, took a deep breath, and opened the door. The room was set up almost exactly how he had imagined you would. The bed was made up comfortably with a plain grey comforter and a fair number of pillows. The lights were dim as per usual, but a diffuser sat in one corner pumping out the smell of peppermint and lemongrass. Soft, 40s music played in the background and he suddenly felt so at ease. He had asked you to set up as if you were at home and he knew you were revealing a piece of yourself to him. He had found out more about you in the last thirty seconds than he had in any other session because they were always about him. And there you sat, in the middle of the bed, cross legged, hair up in a falling bun, black leggings, and the same hoodie he had seen you in before. You smiled softly at him as you patted the bed next to you.

“Come sit. It’s been a long day.” Your smile spread wider as he approached. He always knew how to act around you, always in a persona of sorts, as not to give himself away completely.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked, all a part of the act, you didn’t have to know he was serious.

“It wasn’t too bad. I got coffee before school this morning.” Taehyung’s breath caught as you liltingly began to talk, but you didn’t seem to notice as you kept talking. “Then I went to a couple of classes, pretty big test in one but it felt okay, then lunch with a friend, and…”

He couldn’t stand it any longer as he grabbed the back of your head and brought your lips to his. You sighed as he kissed you and he immediately explored your mouth with his tongue.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked as you pulled away. The act.

“Can I make love to you?” he whispered. He watched your expression soften and your eyes glistened. You studied his eyes for a few seconds as if contemplating something.

“Of course, you can,” you whispered back.

He kissed you again with more passion this time, pushing you back against the blanket as he slotted himself on top of you. He held your face sweetly in his hands and kissed you even deeper, mouth almost devouring yours. If you couldn’t be his, tonight he would pretend like you were. He moved his hands to the back of your head, fingers buried in your hair as he tried to bring you even closer to him. You moaned as he kissed you more and he tried to let his mind think this was real, that you were all for him, and he was all yours. The thought sat there and grew until he believed himself and he felt like if he couldn’t tell you he could at least show you. He moved away, kissing your cheek lightly and then the underside of your jaw. You tilted your head back as he moved his lips down the column of your neck. He heard your breath catch and then shudder out of your mouth as he slowly moved up the other side, barely kissing you, but it seemed to be affecting you deeply. Your hands were buried in the back of his sweatshirt and your legs caged his hips, heels pushing his ass to get him closer. He ground against you and you moaned again, but he kept his kisses soft. Chest to chest and lips to lips again, he held you as close as possible, his left hand pulled your hair back gently to angle your mouth differently against his while his right was hot against your neck. You were pushing yourself up into him as if you were trying to get your body to meld with his. He kissed your neck again, opened mouth as you began to turn him on more and more. He situated himself more on his knees and you groaned as his weight disappeared, seeming disappointed. He skated his hand over the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, feeling your hardened nipple through it before he was at the hem of your leggings.

“Can I take these off?” he asked.

You nodded quickly as you reached down, and he stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

“Let me do it.” Your eyes searched his as he held your wrist. “Please.”

You nodded before laying back against the bed and he sat up, looking at you as he grabbed the waistband and slowly slid them down your legs, kissing the tops of your thighs, your knee, and calf as he pulled them off your legs. He slowly kissed his way back up and he felt the way you shivered as he kissed the inside of your thigh. He kissed your hipbone and you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt to pull it off and he stopped you again.

“Leave it on, please.”

He wasn’t sure why he was saying please so much, but he wanted this to go exactly how he imagined because he wasn’t going to get this again. You pulled your hands away, only looking vexed for a second before relaxing again.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

He sighed, closing his eyes, soaking in the words and tried to believe they were real. Once again, his heart ached in his chest, hearing something he always longed to hear, every day, so sweetly from your lips, and it’s all a lie. But he had to push the feeling down so that he didn’t ruin this for himself.

His dipped his hand into your underwear, and your soft well-trimmed pubic hair brushed against his palm as he dipped his fingers to your center, lips on yours again. You immediately responded to him, chest arching upwards as he pushed two fingers barely inside of you. You were already so wet for him and for a moment he let himself believe it was only him that you needed for this. He pushed a little further and you moaned into his mouth. When he had them in as far as he could go, you bit at his bottom lip as your hands clawed up his back.

“You wanna come on my fingers, baby?” His lips were still against yours and he suddenly and all at once felt so hot. He wanted to take off all his clothes but there was no way in hell he was taking his fingers out of you yet.

“Please, Taehyung,” you moaned.

His name tumbled out in a shuddering breath and he felt himself grow harder and his entire body ached. He kissed the side of your neck wetly as he began to pump his fingers a little faster. Your feet slid along the cotton fabric, the sound of your soft skin brushing against it, music to his ears, as you opened your legs wider for him. Your hips began to roll in time with his fingers and he bit the skin under your ear. A small whine escaped your lips as he buried his face in your hair, hand holding your hair tightly as he breathed heavily. Your whimpers and sighs grew in tempo the faster he moved. He hooked his fingers knowing exactly how to have you shaking on the bed within minutes. You cried out as he began to hit it on each thrust of his fingers, curving them just right as his thumb found your clit. And soon, you did begin to shake. He felt it in your hands first as you seemed to never be able to hold enough of him, then your upper body as your chest rose against his quickly, and then in your hips as you circled them and they dug into the bed. His fingers kept up with you though, and he wanted this to be explosive. Your cunt tightened around him, and it only took a press of his thumb against your clit to have you crying out as you came. Your body shuddered, and you cried more as he pumped his fingers faster, extending your orgasm. You inhaled deeply and he felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest as he moaned into your skin.

“That’s it, baby, come all over my fingers.”

He kept his pace until your hands were at his wrist trying to pull him away and he did so as you gathered his face in your hands and brought his lips to yours.

When you kissed him it felt real, almost as if you reciprocated…no. This was still all an act and you were good at what you did, or he wouldn’t be here. Instead of letting his mind wander he sat up and pulled his sweatshirt over his head before pulling off his pants too. He reached over into the side table where he knew you always placed the condoms and pulled one out. You looked completely blissed out, glowing and lying among the pillows so beautifully he could hardly stand it. When he had the condom on, he moved back over you, hovering as he looked at you. Your eyes were half lidded, but your gaze never wavered as you looked at him. Instead of saying what his heart told him to he moved to kiss you again, he pulled your underwear off and, slower this time, he ran one of his hands over your swollen cunt. You whimpered just a little as he massaged your clit gently, dipping his fingers every now and again, and back to your clit. When you were ready, he ran the head of his cock up and down your slit as he kissed you. Your hands were buried in his hair, pulling at the roots, and your new pleasure spurred him on. Little by little, he pushed inside. You were still so swollen that it took time for him to push all the way to the hilt, but he went slow for your comfort. When fully inside, you sighed as if you had seen someone you had missed after a long time. Your hands softened their grip, opting instead to twirl your fingers in his curls. Your legs were back around his waist as he began to slide his cock in and out a little faster. You felt like heaven around him, even through the condom.

The smell of peppermint, lemongrass, and your natural scent filled his nose and senses, giving him an almost high as you continued to swallow him. He would take this memory to the grave, it would haunt his dreams, and it would plague his daily life from now on, but it was worth it, if for one night. Then, the both of you would go back to your roles, finding something else to do the next time he scheduled to be with you.

Your sighs and small moans were all he could hear and wanted to hear, if only you were in his bed, whispering these things out of love and not for money. But he had to push those thoughts back.

He looked at you as you closed your eyes, lost in pleasure as he fucked you. To an extent, this was real for you and at least he had that. You looked so magnificent, even more so than his daydream at lunch the other day. His subconscious couldn’t possibly do justice to your beauty. His breath quickened as he hooked one arm behind your knee, spreading you open a bit further so that his cock could go impossibly further. You cried out this time the deeper he hit and soon he saw tears running down your cheeks. You began to gasp, hands clawing at the blankets next to you, and Taehyung had never seen anything like you; not in museums, movies, or books and he was suddenly overwhelmed by it. He thrust faster, ensuring not to hurt you, and with the way you tightened again he knew you were close. He leaned down, drawing your knee closer to your chest.

“Fuck, Taehyung, fuck I’m g-gonna come, oh my god.” You were a stuttering mess as he made it his mission to have you come again. He was dangerously close and trying to stop himself before you got to.

Tears streamed faster down your face; eyes screwed shut as you came in silent cry. Your jaw dropped open and your body convulsed more than the last time you came, leg tensing in his grip as your back arched off the bed. He thrust faster and faster. Watching you come ignited a fire inside of him and he wished he could do this for you every morning and night. If you were his, he’d make you feel so good every day that you wouldn’t need to do this anymore, but then again, this wasn’t what you were here for.

He came with a loud moan, collapsing to his elbow as he came in the condom, wishing so badly he could fill you up. Wishing so badly to tell you,

“I love you.”

His body flushed with heat, suddenly still as he realized he said the words out loud. You, too, tensed beneath him, suddenly sobered up post orgasm. He slowly let go of your leg as he pushed away from you. You looked stunned as you searched his face, almost as if you were trying to figure out if this were part of the act; this domesticity he so wanted.

He sat back, pulling out of you, and you still sat looking at him and it was almost too much for him to bear. Why had he let himself say that?

“I think you need to leave,” you whispered finally.

His heart dropped at your words. He had indeed royally fucked up now.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why-,“ but you were cutting him off.

“Taehyung, please clean up and leave.”

You looked as if you were going to cry, but you kept an even expression as you stared at him, willing him to say anything more. You looked a little pissed and…sad.

He pulled the condom off, tied, and tossed it away. He didn’t bother to go to the bathroom even though he felt like he was going to puke at any moment. Instead, he put his clothes on quickly and walked to the door. He looked back at you and you were still in the same position on the bed, looking at him, tears welling up in your eyes and he wasn’t sure why what he said had that effect on you, but decided now was not the time to ask. He wanted to cry himself, but told himself it would be foolish now, not that he would do it for pity. He had already ruined any of his chances at coming back and you didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk about it. After all, he had signed a contract.

No feelings.

[wherearemyglassesbro]

A h/etalia Umbrella academy au but it isn’t actually one, it’s just inspired by UA kinda...idk

//Uh keep in mind that this is going straight from the drafts onto your dash and uhhh there will for sure be spelling errors so don’t roast me lmao

Roman ‘Roma’ Vargas: An eccentric billionaire who founded the Academy of the World’s Finest (or the AWF for short). He gets bored very quickly and went from buying rockets to building hotels to managing casinos to buying children. A very crazy sequence of events! (Roma has many secrets but I don’t feel like fleshing it’s out rn this is just the bare bones of this just for fun!! And if you’ve seen both seasons of UA you probably already knows what you need to know). One faithful day, October 1st 1989, multiple beautiful babies were born from women who were not pregnant the day they were born. This phenomenon made itself known to Roma and he was off to find as many of these children that he could! He sent his staff all over the world to buy these children. He successfully purchased 9.

Number 1, purchased for $10,000 in Las Vegas: Number 1 was picked to be number 1 because Roma thought he was such a strong looking baby. Alfred was actually purchased fifth out of his siblings but no one knows that except Roma himself. Alfred, from a young age, was able to cause an obscene amount of damage. When he held Roma’s hand while learning to walk, he crushed the bones in his hand. When he kicked a soccer ball down the hallway, it went through the wall like a meteor. When he knocked on Arthurs door to bother him, the door snapped in half (and Art screamed bloody murder). He has an insane amount of strength without even trying! It was very hard for him to get a handle on it because he’s so spontaneous and isn’t really one to think before acting but once he and hs siblings started training for hero work?? That was his motivation to be better, to control his power to use it against bad guys!!! He’s the golden boy of the family, he never disobeys Roma and will never, even now, say anything bad about him. ‘Hey! He’s my dad, he saved me from whatever shithole life I was destined to have in Nevada. I couldn’t be more thankful for my life! And mom, if you’re watching this...Thanks. I don’t know who you are but...Thank you’

Number 2, purchased for $25,000 in Le Mans: Number 2’s power presented itself only after he learned to talk. Francis’s power of persuasion is both a blessing and a curse for him. He’s struggled greatly with being ‘number 2’, he wants the same validation and attention as ‘number 1’ gets. He doesn’t think it’s fair. He often used his power for bad things arond the house like ‘J'ai entendu une rumeur that you broke every finger on your right hand!’ that was a very gruesome morning for Alfred and the scolding that Francis got scarred him for life as he was insulted and cursed out in front of his family. Even after that, he still kept up his happy exterior. He was also usually the face of the AWF, appearing on magazine covers which he may or may not have influenced the writers just a bit. His power is strong but he does not use it on Roma because he’s terrified of what would happen if he did!! As he’s gotten older, he’s falls off the wagon a little but he’s trying to make a solid recovery. Also, when he was 7 he found out he was born in France! He then forced himself to become totally fluent in French and taught himself to have a French accent too. Whoopie....

Number 3, purchased for $1000 in Sicily: Number 3 is a dangerous child, he was from day one. When he was born, he was presenting a 116 degree fever yet he was acting totally normal. His mother was convinced he was the devil and was more than happy to sell him off to Roma. Roma felt a deep connection to Lovi from the start....Lovi looked like him. He looked like he could be his biological son. Lovi got special treatment from Roma often but he still felt overshadowed by his siblings. I mean, a majority of his siblings are pretty blondes. He felt left out often. But he would channel that anger into training and cooking! He has a trick that he likes to do, cracking an egg into his palm and cooking it. That one impresses Alfred every time! Not that he’s hard to impress. Lovi would often push himself too far in his quest to be the best and snap at his siblings, leaving him even more alienated from them. He spent a lot of time around Roma and Feli, mostly Roma. He got a lot of one-on-one training with him and a lot of praise too. All he ever wanted to do was be perfect for his father. He set bad guys on fire, did interviews on live tv, set fire to a warehouse full of gang members, all kinds of stuff that he never would have done on his own. Stuff that he didn’t want to do. All so he could impress Roma

Number 4, purchased for $700 outside of Berlin: Number 4 has always been hyper and loud! But his powers suddenly developed over night, which was terrifying for him. Gilbert awoke in the middle of the night to pee one night and was met with a ghost in the bathtub. Naturally, Roma encouraged him to speak with ghosts and would make him go to cemeteries to talk to the dead. Ghosts scared him so he’d secretly take Benadryl to knock himself out but as he got older, he realized that he couldn’t be scared anymore cause these ghosts needed a friend :( so he used these ghosts to fight in missions and in return, he’d play games with them and chat with them, just being friend with the ones who had a hard time crossing over :’) he likes using his powers for good but feels like he’s taking advantage of his ghost friends sometimes which took the fun out of crime fighting

Number 5, given to Roma for free outside of Kyoto: Number 5 got a late start compared to his siblings. His powers took awhile longer to manifest and he had trouble learning to read. But once he caught up, he proved himself to be the smartest out of all of them. Smarter than some of them combined, even. Kiku still often indulged in his siblings antics but at the same time, he felt he was somewhat superior to them. He learned to poof himself from one side of the room to the other, starting off small. He figured out he could time travel one night when Francis and Gil were hammered and knocked a vase over. Kiku felt every muscle in his body tense, then a sensation of falling, then he was suddenly 10 seconds in the past!! Wow!! He caught the vase before it could hit the ground and kicked Fran so he fell down, leaving him to sleep on the foyer floor while Gil just stood there like ‘wtf...?’. When Roma started berating him for ‘getting too cocky’, Kiku threw a bit of a hissy fit and decided to jump to the future!! He did and landed himself in the aftermath of the 2019 apocalypse, unable to get back home cause he wore himself out and had no idea what he had even done to get himself there in the first place lmao sucker.

Number 6, purchased for $10,000 in York: Number 6 was an extremely fussy baby. All he did was cry and cry and cry, it was very frustrating for Roma since the other babies were somewhat easier to handle. Arthur was indeed a handful. When he was hungry, baby food tins and spoons would float out of the pantry and over to his highchair. When he wanted to torment his siblings, he’d take their things and throw them across the room with his mind. When a sinking was annoying him, he’d simply lift them up and shove them out of his room. Easy. He is probably the smartest or second smartest of his siblings. He isn’t the most athletic but he spent lots of time studying, so much so that Roma had to constantly buy new books for Art to read to keep him mentally stimulated. He was often a voice of reason though no one listened to him. When fighting he was very useful!! He never needed to get close to the bad guys, he could throw them around without moving a muscle! The only downside is that it wore him out after awhile...Ugh. He avoided the media but did do interviews with his mask on, encouraging kids his age to stay in school! By the time Art was 13, he was taking college level tests and reading college level material so...he’s one smart cookie

Number 7, given to Roma for free in undisclosed location in Russia: Number 7 is too powerful for her own good. At a young age, Francis was told to convince her that she had no powers. This was done in secret, only Roma, the house staff, Francis and Kiku knew it happened. Everyone else was oblivious and left out of the loop. Vanya has the ability to shake the earth, to cause obscene amounts of damage in the blink of an eye. Her power was something that Roma could have never prepared himself for. So from that day on, Vanya was a ‘normal girl’. She watched from the sidelines as her siblings got to train and fight. She sat with Feli to paint or sew or just talk. She went through every day feeling worthless, like she wasn’t meant to be a part of this family. She channeled her feelings into art, painting canvasses worth of rainy cities or melting people. She made a series of paintings depicting her siblings’ abilities through chunky brushstrokes and vibrant colors. Each painting sold for over one million dollars. She thought her art career would impress her father. It didn’t.

Number 8, purchased for $15,000 and 10 cows outside of Oslo: Number 8 was always a quiet boy, he kept to himself and Roma thought he may be powerless as well for almost 5 years until lightning struck the house...on a bright sunny day...not a cloud in the sky. Turns out Lukas and Kiku were arguing. They were only 5 so they were just shrieking and yelling nonsense then BAM!!!! Lighting. Roma was so terrified but Lukas was giggling and shooting soarks out of his hands, his hair sticking up like crazy. He was always quiet and reserved, he spent a lot of time in the library or on the roof just looking out over the city. He didn’t like sneaking out of the house like his brothers and sisters did but he went ‘to keep an eye on them’...he always had fun though. He stayed away from the media and wore a mask that his most of his face so he wouldn’t be recognized. Sadly, in a tough fight in a hostage situation, Lukas was shot and killed when he was 15, right when he was starting to consider writing a book about hero work and how as he aged, he was becoming more confident in himself due to helping others. It was a tragic loss for his siblings

Number 9, purchased for $800 and a new car in La Coruna: Number 9 was successful from the start, surpassing her siblings in height very very fast. Her power just happens to be her speed. Carmen, as a baby, was a lot to handle since she crawled around the house at 40 miles an hour. Even her sleep schedule was quick, she’d take a 20 minute speed nap and have enough energy to run around for hours after. When she was introduced to the idea of being a hero, she agreed so fast that she nearly bit her tongue off. She always got her chores done quick, helped around the house, all of that since a task that would take 3 hours only took a few minutes for her. She was a great female role model and did many interviews for teen magazines to encourage girls to be their best, that has always been her message. She even wrote ‘GRLPWR’ on her cheeks in black paint before heading off to fight crime in case she had her picture taken. Roma wasn’t a huge fan of that but she didn’t care too much :) she has always stuck up for her sisters!! And she has always been close to Fran and Gil but as they got older, their interests began to differ so she found herself hanging with Vanya and Arthur more

Feliciano Vargas: Roma Vargas’s only biological son. He does not have powers and often felt left out when he was left behind while his siblings went on missions. He’s 2 years younger than the rest of them and is often referred to as ‘stupid little brother’ by Lovino which hurt his feelings. When he was a baby, they were like 2 and a half so they didn’t see him as ‘aww look my baby brother!’ They just found him annoying cause he cried a lot. Like his siblings, he never met his mom but he does feel good knowing that he will always have his dad. When he and the academy kids fight, he will often rub it in their faces that at least Roma is his biological dad. That really rubs salt in the wounds, huh? Feli has always gotten on well with Vanya, they got left behind all the time so they got to paint and play music together :) they made eachother very happy

Gilbert and Lukas: Gil didn’t really like Lukas much when they were younger cause Lukas was just...quiet and reserved. Gil is the exact opposite. But now that Lukas is dead, Gil pities him and hangs out with him. They trained a lot together but Gil got embarassed when they trained cause if someone were to walk in, they’d just see Gil shouting and punching at nothing so...They trained in the dark at 3am on the roof where they wouldnt be interrupted. Now that Gil is older, he can channel Lukas almostperfectly. Lukas has an almost totally physical form when Gil uses his powers, allowing Lukas to channel lightning the way he was able to when he was alive. Lukas doesn’t like doing that too often cause it’s a bit cruel, getting to feel alive when you’re not :/

Kuma: Kuma was a normal polar bear that was experimented on in a lab that Roma funded. The scientists combined his DNA with monkey and human DNA and after much trial and error, they were able to get his brain to process English. So he wears a collar that allows him to talk. He scolded the kids for running around in the house but then five minutes later he’d let them ride his back while HE ran around the halls :) he was like a fun uncle to them. He wore a bow tie :)

Wan yu: Roma fell in love with a woman from China when he was younger. She was studying culinary arts in Italy and he absolutely fell head over heels for her. But things didn’t work out. So once the tech came around, he had an advanced robot version of his first love created for the sole purpose of loving him and his children. She was programmed to be a great role model, compassionate, patient and...A good cook. The kids all called her mom or ma and even though she never technically had favorites, she was always fond of little Kiku. She was the one who taught him to read when he had trouble doing so and she’s stay up late with him in secret to help him catch up in other languages. The kids all had to learn Italian, English, Spanish, Greek and Russian bedore they were even 8 years old. Since Kiku took a bit longer to grasp that kind of stuff, she would sneak him down to the library to have one-on-one lessons with him. :) she was also very caring when it came to Alfred, she saw how hard he pushed himself sometimes and it hurt her to watch. She made cookies for him on especially rough days

Lukas’s death: Lukas’s death hit Arthur, Vanya and Gilbert especially hard. Arthur and Lukas bonded over similar interests, Lukas and Vanya played chess all the time and gossiped and Gilbert always thought that Lukas was the coolest sibling he had. His death was used as motivation for everyone else to continue training. Gilbert ‘summoned’ Lukas three days after his death and Lukas has followed him around ever sicne. Lukas wasn’t avtually summoned, he’d been secretly roaming the house for days and decided to just let Gil think he summoned him. Roma was depressed about his son’s death for a week or so but he never really allowed himself to feel negative emotions for too long so he was over it a bit...too quickly.

[elisaphoenix13]

Attack Of The...Fruit?

Stephen scrutinizes the apples in front of him while Valerie grabs the edge of the stand to peek at the abundance of fruit and vegetables while simultaneously sticking close to his leg. She was always easy to shop with since he didn't have to worry about her wandering off, and he loved seeing the curiosity fill her big blue eyes. Sometimes she helped pick out the produce, and other times she was content to just watch her mother do it himself. The rest of the kids, including Cassie, were wandering around the rest of the store to help grab what was on the list or to make a sad attempt at putting their choice junk food in the cart with their haul.

"...Mom?" William says softly from the other side of the stand.

"Hmm?" Stephen acknowledges as he grabs a couple of decent apples.

"Can we get more strawberries?" The teen asks carefully.

The fact that William was even asking for something made Stephen happy. It was a big step from what the twins were like when they first moved in, and Stephen and Tony had to take baby steps with them. They were a little forceful about things the twins needed, but things they wanted? They started taking Harley and Peter along on their shopping trips because those two always asked for at least one thing. The twins had seen that even if they were told no, it was said gently and Stephen sent them off to go put whatever it was back. It also helped that Peter had been in their shoes once upon a time. While he wasn't between foster homes or out on the streets, he still didn't like asking for things unless he needed them.

He even explained it to Thomas and William.

"Of course. Why don't you grab some whipped cream to go with it?" Stephen nods toward the back.

William lights up and walks off to retrieve a can of whipped cream after placing a container of strawberries into the basket. It was during this that Valerie gently tugged on Stephen's pant leg and pointed toward a shorter stand with mangoes piled on top of it. They must have been in season if they were on sale.

"Mama...fwuit?" The baby asks softly.

"Do you want to try one?" He asks and smiles when she nods. "Alright. Go ahead and grab one."

Valerie looks between him and the stand uncertainly and when he makes no movement, she walks the few feet over to the stand. She was always nervous to leave his side, but she was slowly starting to detach from it willingly. It always made Stephen want to gather her up in his arms and firmly reattach her to him, in the metaphorical (and somewhat literal) sense. She was his baby and he wasn't sure if he was ready for her to grow up yet.

He watches as his youngest daughter looks at the pile of mangoes with a calculating gaze, and then reaches up to grab one. She was very smart for her age and knew what fruit she could grab without sending the rest tumbling to the ground, and did just that before walking back to Stephen to hold it up to him. The sorcerer takes it with a smile and puts it in the cart, chuckling when she gently grips onto Athena's fur.

The wolf was so well behaved in public settings like this, that they were able to get away with making her a service animal. Tony had her licensed and even got her a vest for outings like this. And her being a service animal wasn't a total lie either. She helped with Valerie. If she were to ever get seperated from the family, Athena was to either find a safe place for her to wait for someone to find her, or she would follow a familiar scent to find a family or team member. It depended on the location and amount of people, and fortunately nothing had happened yet.

Athena was almost just as attached to Stephen as Valerie was. It made it easier for the baby to stay close when she wanted to walk since Stephen was a bit too tall for her to hold onto his belt loops.

"Good job." He praises and makes his way to the cereal aisle.

There was where William rejoined them with a can of whipped cream which he promptly put into the basket, and then Peter with his armful of list items. And of course the bag of Doritos he thought he cleverly hid. Stephen gave him a knowing look so that the teen was aware that he had noticed, but didn't say anything. Every once in a while he let the boys get away with a snack of their choosing. Today was one of those days.

A small gust of wind blows past the sorcerer and he huffs fondly. "Thomas, what have I told you about running indoors?"

"Sorry! But they have white cheddar Cheez-Its on sale!" The older twin says excitedly and Stephen rolls his eyes.

"As much as we appreciate that you're trying to save money, we don't notice when we save fifty cents. You can get those whether they're on sale or not." Stephen reminds him.

Thomas sighs. "I know. It's a habit."

"There's nothing wrong with that, but I don't want you to worry about money, okay?" Stephen assures the twins and Harley cackles as he joins them with Cassie and Diana.

"Yeah, Dad sneezes out money. Probably wipes--"

Stephen clears his throat, and while Harley didn't finish his sentence, he still grinned. He and the girls put their haul of groceries and chosen snacks in the cart, and after Stephen tells them all to choose a box of cereal, they take the cart up front and check out. Cassie was really only along to help and get herself some snacks since she had gone shopping with her parents earlier in the week. Once everything was bought, everyone grabbed some bags and walked outside where Stephen opened a portal in a secluded corner and they all went through.

Bags were placed on the counter and table, and Athena laid in her usual spot next to the counter after Peter helped take off her harness. While the kids put away the groceries, Valerie finds her mango and holds it up for Stephen. He takes it and washes it before asking Harley to cut it for her and places her in her highchair while they wait.

When there's a small jingling noise, the sorcerer looks down, expecting Tibbs to be at his feet waiting for treats...but he watched Flynn dash into the kitchen instead. He zooms around in his excitement, and then stops very briefly to show the black collar around his neck. Cassie makes a noise between a laugh and a sigh when the fox starts zooming around the floor again.

"Papa got him a collar this morning. Flynn's...very excited and proud about it." She explains as the celestial himself walks past the kitchen toward the living room with Scott.

"The little shit needed one. He goes everywhere with me when he can and one of these days he's going to get lost." Quill grumbles.

Flynn yips happily and runs after the god to climb up his leg and up to his shoulders, not even breaking Quill's stride to the living room. Stephen wasn't even surprised how well they were synced to each other, or in this case, how well Flynn was synced to Quill. The tiny bell on the collar with the fox's tags was probably for everyone's safety since Flynn was notorious for coming out of nowhere and tripping people up around Quill.

"Here you go, Val." Harley says as he places some pieces of mango on the tray in front of her.

"Tank you." She says softly before picking up a piece and eating it.

Stephen helped with the rest of the groceries and sent the other kids off with their snacks to do as they pleased. Only William sat at the table, which currently held the jigsaw puzzle he and the younger twin were slowly working on. It was supposed to be a picture of a Japanese garden when they finished but so far all they got finished was the border and the koi pond. It was a three thousand piece puzzle that would take them some time to complete since they hadn't sat down with it since the day they started it. They usually put a couple pieces together before moving on when they couldn't sit down, but it was their thing. A way to spend time together.

As Stephen puts together some cheese and crackers for Diana (as requested), he hears a whine of discomfort. He looks over at Valerie and William and finds the teen looking at the baby in shock and opening his mouth.

"Mom!" He finally says, and points to Valerie when he sees that Stephen is looking at him.

"What's wrong?" He asks in concern, rounding the counter to walk over and look at the baby.

William didn't need to answer. Stephen saw immediately what had worried the boy, and it sent a spike of panic through him very briefly. Valerie's face, neck, and arms were covered in red splotches that obviously itched if the baby scratching was indication. Stephen reaches out to pick her up, and looks at William as he points to the tray still holding a few pieces of mango.

"Wash and sanitize that thoroughly, please. Scott! Can you go get the Benadryl from the medicine cabinet?" Stephen calls out.

"Uh...sure." Was the thief's reply. He must have heard the urgency in the sorcerer's voice because it barely took him a minute to get the medicine to Stephen and see why it was needed. "Oh man. What was it?"

"Mangoes. She's never had them before." Stephen answers and takes the small cup once Scott measures out a small dose.

"She gonna be okay?" He asks.

"This seems to be her only reaction. She'll be uncomfortable for a little bit but she'll be fine."

Stephen helps Valerie drink the medicine, and she curls against him with a whine when she finishes. While Scott returns the medicine, the sorcerer gently rubs her back and hushes her gently in an attempt to soothe her. William had not only cleaned up the tray, but the rest of the chair as well, even if it was all overkill. As a distraction, Stephen sits at the table with her and works on the puzzle with William after asking Cassie to finish making Diana's snack, and it was about an hour later when Tony got home from half a day of meetings.

It didn't take him long to notice the baby's condition when he approached Stephen to give him a greeting kiss. "Povero topolina," he murmurs and kisses the top of her head.

"Mangoes." Stephen answers his husband's unanswered, forming question. "We'll have to monitor some of her food."

Tony nods. "Friday, add mangoes to the baby's allergy list please."

"Yes Boss."

They had lists for every kid in case of emergencies, sleepovers, for doctors, or however else they might need them. Mint was added to Peter's list when Tony came up with the idea, and now all they had to do was ask Friday to add to the lists when needed. She even scanned for the allergens when products were in full view. Sometimes things were overlooked. It definitely kept Peter from living in the bathroom a few times.

"She's falling asleep." Tony says quietly and Stephen nods as he places a piece of the puzzle correctly.

"I gave her Benadryl. It will help her sleep through the worst of it and treat the reaction."

"Want me to take her up to bed?"

"No. It's alright. Thank you." Stephen answers softly.

Tony nods. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Fortunately, Valerie was fine by the next afternoon after Stephen gave her a second dose before bed. The problem was that she didn't understand why she couldn't have the rest of her mango. She enjoyed it, but Stephen had told her no and it broke his heart to see her crestfallen expression when he explained that it made her sick. Valerie seemed to understand to an extent and was happy to eat some of William's strawberries as an alternative. She certainly enjoyed letting the boy spray a little bit of whipped cream in her mouth.

Strawberries and cream were something William only shared with Stephen and Valerie. And to the doctor's amusement, Harley. If Thomas, Peter, or Cassie tried to take some, William would grab the bowl and turn away with it with an impish smile.

"Berry!" Valerie demands, and Stephen watches as William turns away from the puzzle they were sitting down for again, and feeds the baby a small piece of strawberry.

Cassie had Diana, and now William had Valerie. Stephen wasn't complaining. At least not right now.

He might have an issue with it when it starts the separation process from Stephen.

[jokin-around]

1am trek to Rite-aide in a Batman kigurumi for a bottle of cold syrup and some ice cream

Fic under the cut🎉🎉 ⬇⬇⬇

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826074 

from beneath a pile of blankets a color drained clown groaned miserably, the sound somewhat muffled by the assortment pretty plastic bobbles filling up the half deflated kitty pool they laid in haphazardly.

The clown in question was Gotham's very own mage of mischief. and much as pain played into his game he absolutely HATED being sick.

Funny thing was, Jay didn’t ever get sick. Period.

With the slew of mystery chemicals constantly floating around in his blood he’d always thought he’d be immune to something as innocuous as a cold. yet here he was stewing in misery, surrounded by a sea of used tissues.To say this was the first time he'd spent the wee hours of the night feeling like garbage would be a lie, but it was definitely the first time he’d felt so unprepared for an ailment.

All that considered, He wouldn’t mind the discomfort if he wasn't so hopelessly bored and… not to mention… alone.

Harley, who was probably busy gardening at the moment, hadn’t answered his calls and none of the other rogues would bother coming to his aid if he asked… they didn't like him very much. He didn’t know why and hardly cared but right now he honestly wished he was better at making friends. Of course, Bud, his lovely hyena who was snoring audibly in the other corner of the room, kept him company on long lonely days, but a dog’s unconditional love could only go so far.

He’d been in his room for hours at this point but as the bat shaped clock on his wall struck 1:00 Jay finally decided he’d had enough.

Throwing the blankets aside, sending foam balls bouncing around the room in the process, Jay sat up, hair a mess, rings around his tired eyes, and stood. Trying his best to ignore the how the world spun like a fun top.

He didn’t need Harley or ANY of those other stupid bozo’s. He could fend for himself just fine and he wasn't about to let some stupid head cold keep him down. Without any further thought Jay grabbed his coat, put on shoes, and headed out the door with a pop-gun in his pocket, looking an absolute mess. Grateful for Gotham's shady midnight darkness --------------------------------

It didn’t take long for the clown to reach his destination, Nite-aid pharmaceuticals was right down the street, just close enough to glide the whole way on a pair of unsteady heelys.

When he entered the store the place was mostly empty except for a few unfortunate stragglers. Night owls looking for late-night smokes and liquor as busted fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered above them... A few patrons turned to glance at him warily, not recognizing the clown out of makeup but suspicious nonetheless. Their failure to turn-tail at first sight would be a mistake they'd soon regret as the unkempt clown lifted his pop-gun in the air and lazily pulled it's trigger.

Now a normal play pistol would’ve gone off with an amusingly harmless pop, but Jay liked to personalize his toys. When the cork shot out the sound pierced through the nights silence like a firecracker, a waft of confetti and billowing green smoke flying up with it in an explosion of noxious, candy scented, color.

The fumes quickly spread through the small store, hot boxing it with chemicals that sent all who breathed it into a frenzied fit. The few unlucky customers present dropped anything they held and nearly toppled over each other as they ran screaming with laughter into the night.

At the back though, a store clerk, who seemed to be bared behind his counter, gagged and giggled as he writhed on the floor with his arms clenched around his sids, too disoriented by now to jump to freedom or even unlatch the door leading out.

As Joker came closer the man backed up, amused yet scared half to death of what would happen as the clown peered over the counter and examined him silently.

A few beats passed before Joker let out a small sigh and mentally made a note to tweak his smilex a tad as he wordlessly opened the gate and let the poor, gasping, employee run free, watching him trip over his own feet a few times as he did. His patented giggle concoction seemed a little too potent this time around, he’d have to fix it sometime….

Soon the joint was empty and joker was alone once more. The whole store now nuisance free and it’s contents perfectly ripe for the taking.

Humming a tune to himself Jay sashayed over to the medicinal isle and eyed over his options. All the keysmashed names and multicolored boxes seemed to meld together the longer he stared. he had no idea which one would be his miracle cure and the way his head swirled made it hard to concentrate on all the teeny-tiny words in front of his heavy feeling eyes. Instead of thinking Jay took a bag and filled it with whatever looked right. If he overdosed on Benadryl and Tylenol instead of Nyquil, so be it.

Before heading out Jay decided to take anything else he thought he might need to feel better including a pint of mint-chocolate chip ice-cream from the fridges in back, a page of funnies and a bargain bin DVD copy of Roger Rabbit .

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

As Jay walked out he heard a low rumble coming from a few blocks away, before he was able to recognize the telltale roar of the Batmobile, the powerful car had already charged its way down the street swerving to a sudden screeching halt in front of the small drug store as blinding headlights pointed directly at Jay, temporarily disorienting the already discombobulated clown and exposing his unfortunate appearance.

As Jay clumsily shielded his eyes a dark figure exited the tech loaded vehicle and slowly floated closer. Soon a tall shadow loomed over him, blocking the stunning beams of light. Jay slowly peered up to meet a pair of cold blue slits.

"Batman..…?" said Jay, sounding somewhat surprised despite knowing better

“Shoulda known you’d be here…. you're not gonna arrest me are you?" He asked pitifully

The Bat seemed to examine him for a moment, blue lenses eyeing him up and down. Jay was suddenly very aware of how he must have looked, he hadn't combed his hair, or shaved, or bathed, he was 99% percent sure he'd grabbed a mix-matched pair of heelys on the way out and he was currently wearing a jacket over a onesie despite the fact he was cooking like a hotdog in a microwave, evident by the beads of cold sweat trailing down his face….

His bare, scar riddled, face….

He began to turn red with embarrassment as he averted his weary gaze from the other man's calculated scrutiny, shoulders tensing

"Look are you gonna do your thing or can I take my stolen goods and go?" He asked impatiently, exhaustion in his voice

"My Bat-monitor says you have a 104 degree fever" the Bat states. No inflection.

"right, Which is why I need to get home like, now- " a large hand placed itself on his shoulder as he crouched to collect his stuff from the ground

"What you NEED is medical attention" Batman insisted, gently firming his grip. Jay, stood up, shaking his head in protest despite feeling more and more lightheaded with every passing second

"n-no I-I'm fine, i'll be fine! I just need t- "

Before he could protest further, handcuffs were promptly clasped around his limp wrists with a snug click, Jay looked at his shiny new bracelets and gave Bruce a sharp glare.

"bastard." he grumbled

"You'll thank me later." Bats stated cooly as he took the clown by the scruff of his hood and escorted him to the Batmobile. Jay struggled slightly at first, ragdolling as the Bat pulled him along, the fight in him quickly dissipated though as his energy slowly faded and he realized how shortsighted he'd been to not expect a situation like this. Of course the Bat would be here. you could hardly J-walk in this city without his big dumb ears hearing about it somehow.

But despite the inconvenience he wasn't mad… just… unprepared

he and the Bat had a special little relationship and after the day he'd had, that flowing black cape could be considered a sight for sore eyes. But this particular situation was a little different from their usual routine. Up there on the rooftops they were perfectly matched equals. Jay fast and unpredictable, Bats strong and disciplined. right now, as Jay was silently chauffeured to an impressive looking street demon, the scales were tipped, and instead of being fast he was weak and slow and practically nodding off by the time Bats gently placed his body in it’s passenger seat.

The rumble of the monsters powerful engine shook Jay from his daze and his unfocused eyes were greeted by a colorful array of buttons and knobs that decorated the car's interior.

"Ooohh" he awed quietly

"Don't. Touch. ANYTHING." The Bat warned sternly.

"Fuuuh-INE" he complained. "You don't mind if i eat in here tho right?" He asked as he fished into his bag and took out his pint of ice cream.

Batman shot him a look of disapproval.

"Ah, Don't worry- " Jay assured as he struggled to get the tub open "I won't get any on your p-precious lea-ther interio- " a bout of violent coughs interrupted his snarky remark…

The Bat sighed

"here, let me" he took the tub and quickly ripped it open, before placing it back in Jays lap

"OH HO HO thanks, Armstrong." He teased

"Whatever… Just pipe down and take this." Bruce reached into his glorified fanny pack and pulled out a small green pill.

Jay eyed it curiously.

"S' not some funky sedative is it?" He asks cautiously

Bruce shook his head….

"It's a… chemical agent I made special for you… I uh… mix it with my sedatives to counteract your resistance to them… it won't put you to sleep but It should have the same effect on those meds i’m paying for" he explained, nodding at the cherry flavored syrup Jay swiped.

With a bit of hesitation Jay picked up the small capsule and eyed it further. It was rather large and filled with a bright green gel.

"....well that's pretty... thoughtful of you I guess. "

Bruce looked away briefly, he'd created the compound last time Jay was out cold on his operating table using a sample of his blood. He'd put it to other uses since, but it had ultimately saved the clown's life last time around… that said he should've known Jay might find his over-preparedness odd

After a few beats of silence, Jay bit the bullet, washing it down with a scoop of ice cream. Help from the Bat, no matter how uncalled for, was usually help he could trust, besides he thought it was funny how often the Bat modded his tech just for his sake. Was it obsessive? Romantic? he couldn’t tell, but he was definitely flattered…

With a small contented smile on his face, Bruce turned back to the wheel and revved his engine "Alright clown... buckle up"

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

It didn't take long for the two to arrive at the Batcave. The ride there quick and uneventful. Bruce didn’t have to bother with a blindfold or knockout gas to cover his tracks, Jay had passed out about halfway there and even then, it wouldn't have mattered much. He was sure Jay already knew it’s location despite being in the dark about...other things.

Exiting the car and stalking to the other side with his cape flowing behind him. Bruce opened the door to the passenger seat and watched as the winged doors lifted to reveal a sleeping figure cradling a half melted pint of ice cream.

“Is this the 'guest' you mentioned earlier sir?” Alfred inquired as he came to greet his kevlar clad son.

“It is.” He answered softly as he slowly lifted the pint from the clowns arms and handed It to the older man

"You somehow failed to mention the guest in question was your colorful new nemesis” the servant jested, raising a brow

"Uh… Forgot to I guess" Bruce shrugged, knowing full well he’d swept a detail or two under the rug to avoid another scolding from his free-spoken butler.

There was a pause of silence as they both watched the peaceful perriot rest

“...If only he was this quiet all the time, Gotham would be a much less hectic place… “ said Alfred after a moment.

“Perhaps” said Bruce. eye’s never breaking away as his chest rose and fell

Alfred, of course, had more to say but decided to keep it to himself as not to sour the moment he was having.

“Well this is going in the fridge... a pot of hot soup should be ready shortly. Just enough for the both of you”

“Thanks al”

Alfred nodded then went on his way as Bruce turned his attention back to Jay.

Although he was used to seeing the jolly jester in a more upkept state, he had to admit he was… striking... even like this…

When that perpetually cheery smile of his finally relaxed, it was replaced by soft supple lips and butter knife sharp cheekbones that framed his face in a way rarely seen outside of hollywood.

Gingerly, Bruce reached beneath his guest and lifted him from his seat.

It always surprised him how light he was, not that Jay was very big to begin with but… the way he threw a punch, took hits like they were nothing… it made it easy to forget he was only about 5'4"... perhaps even smaller minus the mane of hair that currently draped over his tired face

With the rest of the man’s features veiled, Bruce’s eyes were drawn to the two deep scars which curled from the corners of his mouth like a jagged grin. They were long healed but Bruce had a feeling the wounds cut deeper than eyes could see...

As Bruce thumbed away a few stray locks of green to get a better look, Jay began to stir. Hurriedly Bruce stepped over to the med bay section of the cave and laid his guest down before his eyes began to flutter open

"W-where?" He asked groggily as his vision focused

"Batcave."

“Again?” He muttered while sitting up “This gonna be a regular thing?”

“Were you expecting a hospital?” Bruce asked.

Jay rubbed his face

“guess not….” Hospitals we’re never really an option for people like them he supposed. Too many nosy doctors and prodding hands… bad memories...

“Here” a small cup of cherry liquid appeared in front of him, held by a black glove. He took it slowly.

“Can't have the whole bottle??”

“Why would you want to?”

Jay shrugged and took the shot

“I dunno…”

Bruce let that comment slide and stepped closer to check his temperature again.

"How are you feeling?"

" terrible" Jay replied miserably. Bruce looked at his monitor, the clown was stable at about 105°. It wasn't common for a cold to come with a fever but Jay was... an uncommon person.

" think a cool shower might help?"

The clown smiled "...mm… maybe…. You aren't offering to join me are you?"

Bruce scoffed "Not with you like this I'm not…"

Jay rose an eyebrow.

"er… not that I would if you…. Weren't…" Bruce's cheeks went pink for a moment. Though he'd looked away he could tell Jay was smiling even wider. Probably holding in a laugh too.

"Uhm...alright uh… washroom's that way, use what you want, shampoo, conditioner, whatever, I can always buy more"

Jay hopped down from the table and stretched with a moan

"I'm sure you can, rich boy."

"Huh?" Bruce tensed, taken aback by the term usually used to describe his alter ego.

"being best buds with Bruce Wayne must have some pretty sweet perks"

Bruce sighed, allowing himself to breath again as Jay made his way to the shower "right.."

_____________

It didn't take long for Jay to return, He made quick work of cleaning up and was soaped, rinsed and dried within a few minutes. His greasy mop now a fluffy, blow dried, up-do And his mind fog free.

The bouncy mane of curls caught Bruce's attention as the clown re-entered the main room, freshly scrubbed, lemon scented and humming a tune.

"You look a little better…. " Bruce complimented

"Just a little?" Said Jay, faking disappointment.

"Uh… w...well" Bruce stammered.

"Just teasing u dummy." He said with a smile as he took a seat on the bannister next to the Bat-computer.

"Right… well.... I see you're back to your normal self" said Bruce, returning to his work

"Mostly." Jay smiled

"Good… that's good." There was some silence taken up by Bruce's fingers tapping the Bat-computer's interface

"Hey." Jay interrupted

"Yeah?" Said Bruce

"Aren't you scared of catching my cold-cooties or something?" The clown inquired

"No." Bruce answered bluntly.

"Why not?"

"bats don't get colds"

Jay rose an eyebrow.

"Oh really?"

"It's true."

"Mhm…"

Suddenly the sound of a throat clearing interrupted their banter.

"are you two quite done, or will supper have to wait?"

The odd couple turned to face Alfred who was holding a silver platter somewhat impatiently.

"er...Now is fine Alfred"

The butler nodded and gracefully waltzed between them to set the plate down. Removing it's dome to reveal a piping hot stew, stuffed with chicken and veggies, with fresh baked biscuits on the side. It’s aroma was even more enticing than it’s appearance

"Wow this is nothing like that Campbell's stuff" said Jay, eyes wide.

"I should hope not.” Alfred huffed. “ I didn't go to culinary school to cook from a can"

“Thank’s Al, it looks great”

"Of course sir… Oh, and, sir?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"You invited this man into your home… least you could do is give him a proper seat"

Jay was still sitting on the banister, swinging his legs happily.

“oh…. Right” he pressed a button and a second chair raised from the floor “i’m… usually the only person down here, sorry.”

“What about that kid?”

“Robin? Never sits still, likes the banister “

“Huh, Go figure….” Jay plopped down in his seat and spun around a few times before grabbing his bowl and testing the soup… to put it lightly, the taste was beyond heavenly.

“Oh my god….”

“Glad to see it suits your taste mr.Jay, young Bruce would fuss about having to eat it every time he was under the weather….”

Bruce a blushed a tint

Jay smiled

“I guess bat’s DO get the sniffles”

“Wasn't a bat back then, doesn’t count”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn't”

“Yes it- “

“Children!”

They froze… Alfred gave them a stern look. Free of malice but intimidating nonetheless.

“Do try to behave yourselves, I have enough trouble with robin as is and he’s much better mattered than the both of you”

“Yes, Alfred”

“Sorry, Alfred…” they apologized

The butler one last look,turned on his heels and left the room in silence.

“Man you’re butler’s mean…” Jay whispered

“Don't worry, it’s just an act…. I think…” As they both returned to their gourmet supper Jay suddenly recalled the DVD he'd brought with him.

"Oh HEY! Can we watch a movie???"

"Movie?"

"Yeah!" Jay scrambled over his bag and ran back with the box in his hand.

"Roger Rabbit! It's a classic!"

"Never seen it."

"Really? well we'll have to fix that… it's a detective story! you'll like it!…"

Bruce slowly took the case, studying its colorful cover…

"Suppose… I'll... take your word for it."

Reluctantly, Bruce popped a hatch on the Bat-computer and let the movie play on one of it's many monitors. Jay sitting back with a satisfied smile as Bruce sunk deeper into his work...

Or at least, tried to.

Jay's amused chuckles here and there made it hard to concentrate but the sound wasn't… unpleasant. Every now and then the clown would tap his shoulder and tell him to pay attention to a favorite scene or line if his… eyes flitting between him and the screen, searching for a reaction, however small or unreadable … smiling whenever Bruce's lips curled even a millimeter or two.

As the night continued, Bruce recalled the large home theater he had upstairs in the mansion

50 seats and rarely more than one taken at a time...

He imagined himself up there now with his arm around the other man's shoulders, sharing snacks and a large blanket, huddled close…

Perhaps he could’ve come up with some elaborate lie about "Bruno" allowing visitors in his humble abode, but as much warmth as the thought gave him, it was greatly overpowered by his own paranoia…

He wasn’t quite ready to break that barrier no matter how much he wanted too...

So maybe not today…

But maybe later….

Someday.

After a few passing moments Bruce realized Jay’s little interruptions had stopped and turned to find the man fully asleep on the chair beside him. With a light sigh, Bruce carefully removed his cape and draped it over the man just as he’d done before a year or so ago, Quietly calling for Alfred to prepare the Batcave’s guest bed.

With all the cordial tenderness in the world, Bruce lifted his nemesis and carried him downstairs. for now, somewhere in between all the imaginary lines they’d drawn in the sand, just this close was close enough.

[cecilspeaks]

159 - Cat Show

Be the annoying goose you want to see in the world. Welcome to Night Vale. 

This day was foretold and now it is here. Some doubted it would come, but the signs were clear. And I could not be more excited! It’s the annual Night Vale cat show. [laughs] I know, I rarely report on this event, but this year, I finally entered my own cat, Khoshekh, into the contest. Many of you remember that I found Khoshekh 7 years ago. He was floating 4 feet off the ground in the men’s restroom here at the radio station, and he’s still in that exact same spot, cute as ever with his furry little white paws! And elegant little black tail, and just the floofiest tentacles you could ever see.

My husband and I adore cats! We’re always ranking them, because love is above all else a competition. So we figured we should put Koshekh out there for an objective ruling on our own beliefs that he is the best cat in the world! It should be an easy win for our little boy, especially with the home field advantage. Koshekh is stuck in a fixed point in space, and the cat show is being held here at the radio station to accommodate his condition. Station Management is a bit unhappy about this, because they’re terribly allergic to cats. All morning, as the cat show organizers and competing cats have arrived, I have felt the sneezes of Station Management from deep below the surface of the Earth where they have burrowed into the warm, molten core of our dying planet.

I sent our new intern Simon Peterson out to pick up some Benadryl for the bosses, and he did, but now he’s having trouble navigating the 16 inch wide rocky tunnel Station Management dug into the break room, and Simon keeps saying he’s claustrophobic and that his greatest fear is to be stuck in a dark place where the long spindly arms touch and prod his feet, but he cannot see them. And even if he could, he would not comprehend them. Ad n the prickly limbs grab at him with increasing desperation and he does not scream, because he knows no one will hear him except the inscrutable.. thing that is now tearing open the skin along the bottom of his feet. And I was like Simon, this office is a no excuses zone, so get in that tunnel and do your job.

More on the cat show soon, but first the news. Strange men arrived in town today. They were wearing suits and carrying briefcases. They drove a black sedan. One of them wore sunglasses. They claimed to be from Washington DC from an agency called the National Transportation Safety Board. They were inquiring about a missing plane. The strange men, one of them had a blister on his upper lip, met with Sheriff Sam, and told them that on June 15, 2012, Delta flight 18713 from Detroit Mistigan to Albany New York disappeared. The NTSB still has not found the MT-90 aircraft. The men told Sheriff Sam that for many years, the agency believed the flight to have gone down in Lake Erie. Sheriff Sam laughed at this silly fake name for a lake and told the men – one of them had a swollen red lump along the cuticle of his right index finger –that they must be remembering some spooky young adult novel, rather than a real life event. The strange men – one of them had an unceasing nose bleed – said it was in fact true. They said that they recently found a report indicating that right before Flight 18713 vanished from radar, it was detected all the way down in the southwest United States, right here in Night Vale. “How is that possible?” the strange men asked our Sheriff. Sheriff Sam stopped laughing and said: “I know the plane. Or rather, I know someone who saw that plane. His name is Doug, Doug Biondi.” The strange men – one of them wore three wedding rings – nodded and said: “Take us to Doug.” Sheriff Sam said: “Doug is in the Night Vale asylum. He is dangerous. He is not allowed visitors. But…” and Sheriff Sam leaned forward, clasping their hands together across the desk and continued in a hush town: “I… could… assist… in an undercover operation. Disguise you all as new inmates, treacherous psychopaths who must be kept in lockdown in the world’s highest security mental hospital. Then, then… you would be able to interview Doug Biondi about what he saw that day in the elementary school gym.” And the strange men – one of them was weeping thick yellow tears – agreed that this was a great idea, and set out with the Sheriff to the asylum, deep within the Scrublands, to begin their covert investigation. I’m sure those strange men from the NTSB will emerge soon with a full report. More on this story as it develops.

But I have to get back – to the Cat shooooow! [excited] Oh ho ho, [gasps] so many cats have arrived! [laughs] Th-there are cages and carriers full of sweet kitties all over the station! Representing all four breeds of cat: long haired, short haired, smushyfaced and miscellaneous. When I was filling out the entry forms for Khoshekh, they asked me this breed, and he’s definitely smushyfaced, but also long haired although he’s short haired along his coddlespine and pincers, soooooo… miscellaneous? I guessed. Also they wanted Khoshekh’s last name, and I have never thought of a last name for our cat. Huh. I told Carlos we should put his last name as Khoshekh’s last name, because Carlos has a much more interesting last name than me. Plus Carlos is pretty well known and very well liked in town. Everybody knows his last name, and I thought that might carry some political weight in the minds of the judges. But Carlos insisted that we use mine, because I found Khoshekh and I adopted him. So there you go, little kitty. You are Khoshekh Gershwin Palmer. A champion name for a champion cat.

Let’s have a look now at the community calendar. This Friday night is the Tour of Lights in Old Town Night Vale. Participants can meet at Galway and 1st at 7 PM, where a tractor pulling a trailer full of hay will drive you around to look at the bright and festive holiday lights adorning the various historic homes. Last year’s favorite, the Victorian mansion owned by Harrison Kip, included a 40-foot tall Santa, his arms outstretched overseeing a vast army of toiling elves, while an old Victrola played “Ave Maria” over crackling speakers and clowns leapt suddenly from the thick shrubs, handing unsuspecting but delighted guests red and blue balloons shaped by long dead family members. Tickets are five dollars and go to support the Bilderberg Group.

Saturday evening is the bi-monthly pub crawl in downtown Night Vale. Every eight weeks or so, every bar in town becomes overrun with 7 inch long bugs that look like… a bit like earwigs but with human faces. All participating bars and pubs are offering two for one specials on well drinks and bottled domestics.

Sunday afternoon, the Tamika Flynn book club will be meeting to discuss their most recent book, the 2018 Husqvarna YTH-24K 14-inch riding mower owner’s manual. This month’s book was chosen by John Peters – you know, the farmer? They’ll be discussing the themes, symbolism and subtext of this seminal work of contemporary technical literature. The book club is open to anyone and there will be a potluck benefit.

Monday is running a few minutes late, but wants everyone to know we can go ahead and start without it.

The cat show is finally underway and wow! What a sight! I’ve never actually been to a cat show before today, it is, it’s fascinating! So, the judges take each cat one at a time. They hold up the cat’s tail to examine its posture and form. Then they pry open the cat’s mouth to check its teeth. Then four judges hold each of the cat’s paws and stretch it out into a furry X, as a fifth judge measures the cat’s latitudinal, longitudinal and diagonal lengths. I’m surprised at how gentle these cats are with all this rough handling. Khoshekh – [scoffs] Khoshekh usually tries to bite me or-or sting me when I feed him, and I appreciate that about him. It’s hard to respect a cat that would let any stranger look it directly in the eyes, let alone touch it. People sometimes think cats will behave obediently and chummily, like dogs, but cats are individualistic. They show love, yes, but it is conditional and judgmental. You must give a cat space to learn its environment and develop its own social rules. Plus those pincers really hurt! The cats they’re showing right now are really cute, but it’s [sighs], it’s hard to respect them, like the way they let these judges just treat them like slabs of meat. [shouts angrily] Stand up for yourselves, you glorified sock puppets!

Oh, I’m getting some nasty looks from the judges and other contestants. Good, good. (-) [0:12:26] is important in contact sports. Let them know who’s the front runner.

Amber Akini and her husband Wilson Levy are showing their cat now, a tiny fist-sized orange and white shorthair named Berthold. Berthold might be my second favorite cat, behind Khoshekh of course, because he’s a - oh, oh what to call that kind of cat with extra appendages the poly.. polydactyl, polydactyl, that’s it. Anyway, Berthold is a polydactyl cat. He has eight legs and a mesmerizing array of shiny black eyes covering his cute little face. I’m not so sure Berthold has much of a chance of winning, though. Because when the judges tried to check his teeth, he skittered up the wall and won’t come back from the web he built up there. Ah, well now Susan Willman is showing her cat. He’s a scraggy, but otherwise basic tabby with dirty teeth like Spanish rice and the sunken posture of a playground swing. Oh I didn’t catch his name, although it sounded like she called Dumpster. [chuckles] [low voice] Not a chance, loser.

OK, oh wait. The judges are all wide-eyed and cooing over Dumpster, like he’s a rare bejeweled artefact. Wait, they’re nodding to each other as if they’re impressed. I don’t get this! He’s a trash cat. That’s why she named him Dumpster of, knowing Susan, maybe that’s a family name. Ooh ho-ho! Oh, I’m getting a shush sign from the judges, and Susan is glaring at me. [chuckles] I had no idea how political this cat show would be. What a racket.

Let’s have a look now at traffic. There’s a slowdown on westbound lanes of Route 800 near Exit 19. There is no construction or accident. Highway patrol said that everyone on that side of the road simply started thinking about Urinus and giggling. Every single driver, simultaneously, remembered how the name of that planet always made them laugh in school. Scientists want to study Urinus. They thought it wants really probe the dense noxious clouds covering the rocky surface of Urinus. They considered in unison, their ruddy cheeks quaking above sore jaws and below tear-filled crackling eyes: scientists think the pressure inside Urinus is so great that here may be diamonds inside Urinus. The drivers all howled, the audible din enough to slow even the eastbound lanes, who were trying to think of a single funny thing about Saturn, but could not. I’m not sure I get why any of that is funny. But expect westbound delays of 20 minutes or take an alternative route.

It’s the big moment, listeners. The judges are visiting Khoshekh right now in the men’s restroom. I tried to tell them to use hazmat gloves, but they sneered and said: “We know how to handle cats, sir.” OK, they are professional arbiters of all things feline, so I believe them. They’re holding up Khoshekh’s tails right now, examining his nacreous scales. They brought in two other judges to try to hold Khoshekh’s tentacles down because, well he keeps trying to grab at the main judge’s face as the judge attempts to examine Khoshekh’s teeth. Oh, I wonder if they’ll deduct points for Khoshekh having more teeth than a normal cat. I mean he has five rows of them. OH, oh! Oh no. Ohhh, the judges are not controlling this situation well at all, Khoshekh has wrapped up all of the jduges in his many spiraling suctioned arms. They’re struggling to break free, but those tentacles secrete a sedative oil and the judges are wobbling.. They’re passing out, yup, not good. Every single judge is unconscious, and now Khoshekh is wildly flapping his wings and, while I cannot hear it I can tell, he is emitting a shriek that only other cats can hear. He does this when he’s upset. OH, there’s Berthold coming down from the safe haven of his web. There’s Dumpster, hollow-eyed and purring, waling toward Khoshekh. And all the other cats are coming too. Their mouths agape, emitting I m sure the the same ultrasonic tone, a harmon of protest, of uprising, of bloodthirst. They’re gathering now in the men’s room, eyes glowing, all slack-jawed and silent screaming at the sky. On yeah, the other pet owners are sobbing and they’re running for the exist, but they know they cannot leave. They would not leave even if they could. It is silent now in the station safe for the panting exhaustion of frightened human owners, and the strained wheezing breaths of unconscious cat show judges. I think Carlos and I have a great shot at winning this thing, listeners. an announcement of a champion coming soon!

But first, The weather.

[”Weather: “Fuzzy Disco” by Talkie https://talkie.bandcamp.com]

The judges woke up, but they no longer speak in English nor any human language. They are licking themselves and eating moths that they caught by the single swinging light bulb in our radio station’s interrogation room. Their brains are feral and feline now, as they hide under tables and hiss at the other cat owners. I tried to warn them about using hazmat gloves, but they didn’t wanna hear me. [big gasp] Or maybe they did! Perhaps this was their gambit all along, I mean this is after all my first cat show, I don’t wanna pretend like I know how these things go. No winners were announced. The judges joined the high-pitched catervauling of the other cats. And then they all left in a unified clatter, out the men’s room window and into the street. I can see them now, running toward the alley behind the CVS, several other cats joining their ranks, all except - Khoshekh, who cannot leave his spot in the station restroom. Four feet in the air.

I told Khoshekh that he’s a winner in my mind, and I put on my thick rubber gear and gently stroked his smushed little face! [giggles] Right between his middle two eyes! Huh. It’s hard to tell what cats are thinking or feeling, but I think Khoshekh is happy. He’s happy to have such a loving home and two doting dads. But something in his eyes tells me he wanted to run free with his new cat friends. I gave him a catnip plushie though, and he looks content, if a little coked up.

Stay tuned next for a noise you cannot hear, rallying a feral insurrection.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Wanna feel old? Don’t worry, you will.

[smoaking-greenarrow]

How about a protective Oliver fic where felicity had a allergic reaction?!

The moment Oliver opened the door to the apartment, his eyes always searched for Felicity. If he expected her to be home, he wanted to see her as soon as possible when he came through the door. Learning that she was pregnant only made his anxious feeling a little more intense. Especially since he hadn’t seen her all day.

As soon as he heard the robotic voice announcing his presence, Oliver’s eyes looked for her, carrying the present he’d picked up on his way home. Usually she’d be waiting for him, expecting him since he always called or texted to let her know he was on his way. But the living room was dark, and the kitchen was empty.

Oliver frowned, coming into the apartment and closing the door behind him, making sure to hear it lock behind him. “Felicity?” He asked, toeing off his shoes and shrugging off his coat.

The light in their bedroom was on, pouring into the hallway, and he followed it, his eagerness to see his wife growing in his chest.

Over the years, he’d experienced countless nights like this. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come home and find her asleep with a book still in her hand, her glasses left crooked on her face. Or the handful of times he’d walk into the bedroom to find her…waiting not so patiently for him.

But, as he turned the corner, Oliver’s heart stopped. 

It wasn’t a scene he’d never walked in on before, but it instantly sent his heart into his throat.

Felicity stood on her toes in front of the dresser, twisting this way and that, looking at herself in the reflection. She wore nothing but his t-shirt and sky blue panties underneath. Her belly was exposed, the shirt pulled up to her breasts so she could examine it.

Oliver’s heart jumped to his throat as he stared at her for a moment, one of her hands grazing over the smooth, still flat skin. He must have made some kind of noise as he watched her, because Felicity’s eyes snapped up to the doorway, meeting his eyes in the mirror. And then she dropped the shirt and turned towards him, a shy smile crossing her lips. “Hi,”

“Hi,” Oliver breathed back, setting the box in his hand down on the bed. “You know it’s still early…” He felt breathless, completely amused and enchanted to see her like that.

“I know,” Felicity bit her lip. “I was just checking because…Laurel called me fat.”

Thrown off, Oliver froze. Then his shoulders stiffened, every defensive bone in his body humming to life. “She called you what?”

“Well, not in those words, exactly.” Felicity rolled her eyes, “but she did say that I shouldn’t eat so much ice cream. She’s been reading all these pregnancy books which is equally weird and sweet…and I guess ice cream every day isn’t considered healthy. She’s probably right, but I want it. I want. All. The. Food.”

His eyes narrowed, only half kidding when he asked, “and where is Laurel now?”

Snorting in response, Felicity rolled her eyes. “Oliver, I’m probably going to look like a whale soon, you can’t pick fights with everyone who notices.” 

Oliver frowned, certain that she was wrong about both. Surely, whale won’t be the word coming to mind when he gets to watch his wife’s belly grow. Perfect will definitely be more like it. And he also felt confident that he would absolutely pick a fight with anyone if they dared to say otherwise.

“Besides,” Felicity continued as Oliver’s eyes dropped to her stomach. “I know Laurel wasn’t trying to be mean,” her lips jutted out, an adorable pout. “Although it’s Laurel…so maybe she was, but I actually do think she meant well. It was just…not nice. Anyway, she has a point, because I’m pretty sure there’s a bump, and it’s just bloating from all the sugar.”

Oliver pinched his lips together, nodding to the box on the bed that she hadn’t noticed. “So I suppose you don’t want those…”

Her head snapped to the bed, her eyebrows raising. “Chocolate?”

He chuckled, picking it up and opening it. “Compromise.”

“Ohhh,” Felicity groaned, coming closer. “Thank you. I love you so much.”

“Are you talking to me or the strawberries?”

Felicity snorted again, her hands finding his cheeks, fingers skimming over his ears. “You,” she mumbled as she pulled him down and pushed herself up on her toes at the same time. 

It was an adorable, graceful little move that always seemed to have their lips meeting right in the middle. 

And Oliver hummed, melting into her kiss.

“But you, my darlings…I also love,” Felicity sighed, dragging her lips away from his as she leaned over the box to peek inside. “Strawberries are fruit…totally healthy, right? The chocolate covering them is irrelevant.” Oliver chuckled, reaching up with his free hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. Felicity smiled up at him, scrunching her nose up. “Maybe just one…”

One turned into four, but she did share.

And she went to bed happy that night; her stomach happy thanks to the strawberries and her heart happy thanks to the wonderful man who brought them home for her. She also didn’t mind kissing her husband goodnight and tasting the sweetness all over again.

Despite how tired Felicity was, and how blissfully she’d drifted off to sleep, she woke up just a few hours later.

At first, she wasn’t sure what had woken her up, but then she felt another twist of pain in her stomach, and she knew it was the cause. Groaning, Felicity turned over in bed, tossing her legs over the side to stand up. She felt like she needed to get up and move, drink some water, walk off a cramp or something.

But Felicity took one step towards the kitchen and her head was spinning. Her stomach swooped, and her feet shuffled to the bathroom, closing the door before she turned on the light, trying not to wake Oliver.

It wasn’t until she looked in the mirror that she really woke up.

The bright lights had her squinting, but as her eyes adjusted and she saw her reflection, Felicity gasped. Her neck was covered in hives, her lips slightly swollen. She stared at herself, making sense of her own body.

Instead of disturbing Oliver, she reached for his phone that he’d left on the bathroom sink earlier and dialed a number she knew by heart.

The woman had said to call her day or night if she needed something…

“Felicity?” She answered on the sixth ring, her voice thick with sleep.

“Dr. Schwartz,” Felicity greeted, but her voice was hoarse. “God,” she made a face, moving her tongue that felt wrong in her mouth. Also swollen. Perfect. “I’m sorry to wake you.”

“What’s going on?” The doctor asked.

“I think I’m having an allergic reaction,”

Dr. Schwartz asked questions, trying to determine whether or not this would warrant a visit to the emergency room. And Felicity was incredible grateful when the answer ended up being no, since Oliver would’ve worried nonstop.

As she answered the questions and explained her symptoms, Dr. Schwartz advised her to use skin cream for the rash, and told her how much Benadryl to take. Then they briefly talked about her diet, which also had Dr. Schwartz politely telling her to cut back on the sweets. Damn Laurel.

They agreed that if it didn’t start to clear up within the hour, she’d go to the hospital. They also came to the conclusion that the strawberries were to blame, and that she probably developed the allergy because of her pregnancy.

“Great,” Felicity grumbled, resting her hand over her stomach once she hung up with Dr. Schwartz. “I’ll let this one go, peanut…” she spoke softly to her stomach, even though it was too early for her baby to look like more than a crumb, let alone have ears, and it made her feel a little silly. “Just don’t doom me with any mint chip allergies, please, okay?”

The ointment was in the cabinet under the sink, and Felicity applied some generously, satisfied with the instant relief. Then she turned off the light and left the bathroom, heading towards the kitchen to find the Benadryl.

Oliver stirred in bed as she walked by, and she crept on her toes, sneaking out while he let out a long sigh, his hands reaching across the mattress, seeking her out in his sleep.

When she reached the kitchen, she followed Dr. Schwartz’s dosage, and sat on the counter, intent on finishing a full cup of water before she climbed back into bed. The last thing she needed was a dehydration headache, too. But before Felicity could slip back into the bedroom and hope the rash was gone soon, she heard Oliver call her name.

And she didn’t bother answering, knowing he was already on his way out.

With a slight frown and furrowed eyebrows, Oliver blinked at her, his chest bare and his boxers wonderfully, adorably, distractedly domestic. “What are you doing?” He asked, coming over to where she sat on the counter.

“Don’t freak out.”

He cocked his head to the side, his eyes taking her in, “why would I—” but the words stopped when he noticed the hives on her neck. His index finger and thumb found her chin, immediately lifting her head so he could see her neck better, tilting her face towards the light as he leaned in.

“What happened?” Oliver asked, his voice taking on that clipped, assertive tone.

“Just a tiny, insignificant, mild allergic reaction to those strawberries. I guess baby might not be a very big fan.”

“Felicity,” his jaw clenched as he looked her in the eyes. “You didn’t think you should wake me up for this?” Irritation flashed in his narrowed gaze, in the tight line of his lips.

She frowned, her eyes immediately welling with unexpected tears just as they’d done when Laurel hinted at her unhealthy eating habits. It wasn’t fair. She’d never been so sensitive, yet just the tone in Oliver’s voice made her feel bad.

Unfortunately, he was too busy fussing over her to notice. He gently tilted her head again, examining the hives that already felt better. Then his thumb touched her swollen bottom lip, and his eyebrows pushed together in concern when it trembled under his touch. “I called Dr. Schwartz right away,” she whimpered, “and I took Benadryl. She says I’ll be fine.”

Oliver’s eyes shifted up to hers, and she saw regret and remorse instantly. He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks, catching a few stray tears she couldn’t keep from falling. “I’m sorry,” he whispered gently, sincerely. I’m just…I worry about you. And I know you can take care of yourself and protect yourself, but I’m always going to want to take care of you and protect you, too.”

“I know,” Felicity sighed, relaxing while she slumped against him, winding her arms around his shoulders.

He hauled her up off the counter, guiding her legs around his waist while his arms held her steady.

“Wait,” Felicity squeaked, her hand flying out to grab the glass of water she’d been working on. He chuckled as she finished her last sip, setting it back on the counter to be taken care of tomorrow. “Okay, proceed,” she hummed, nestling her head into his neck.

Oliver carried her down the hallway and into the bedroom. He left the lights off and moved on instinct, now that he knew the space well enough to walk through it without tripping over anything. Setting her down on the bed gently, Oliver let her relax into her pillows and curl up in the blankets as he dropped over her, landing on his side of the bed.

With a sigh, Felicity closed her eyes, her fingers reaching greedily for Oliver.

As they settled beside each other, both of her arms wrapped around one of his, her head on his shoulder and his hand on her thigh, Felicity could sense him watching her.

At first, she tried to ignore it, but the minutes ticked by, and she couldn’t sleep when she could feel her husband staring at her like that. His stiff body told her that he was still worried.

Finally, Felicity sighed, tilting her head up but keeping her eyes closed. “You want to call Dr. Schwartz, don’t you?” She mumbled.

Since she gave him perfect access, Oliver nipped at her lips, planting a string of short kisses. “Yes,” he groaned against her mouth. “Kind of.”

Shaking her head, Felicity turned over to her nightstand. She peeked one eye open long enough to grab her phone. Then she curled back into his side, dropping the phone on his chest with a huff.

Laying quietly, Felicity listened as they woke the poor doctor for the second time. But by the end of the conversation, she was grateful because the relief in Oliver was evident. His body relaxed as Dr. Schwartz assured him that his wife was going to be fine. 

Felicity was also glad because Oliver thought to ask questions she hadn’t considered; like if this meant their baby would have an allergy to strawberries and whether or not they needed to worry about anything else Felicity ate. And she heard Dr. Schwartz on the other end, telling Oliver that it was too soon to tell, but to make sure Felicity was careful with other fruits and berries.

After ten minutes or so, he hung up, and Felicity grinned. She turned her lips to his bare chest so she could kiss him. “Happy now?”

Oliver sighed, kissing the top of her head. “With you?” He whispered, “happy always.”

Felicity hummed sleepily, hugging herself closer. “You’re going to be an amazing father, Oliver Queen.”

His mouth trailed through her hair, his hand doing the same on the small of her back, pushing under her t-shirt so he could feel her skin. “We’re going to be amazing parents, Felicity.” 

Oliver hesitated, his voice rising with wistful humor as he said, “and to think…you called us unthinkable. Probably didn’t expect to be married and having a baby with me back then, did you?”

Felicity chuckled, “no, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” She sighed, her mind drifting off, filling with happy thoughts about how far they’d come.

[canaryatlaw]

okay, so today was pretty good. I was having issues falling asleep last night, partially because I didn’t really feel tired but also because my back was killing me and I couldn’t really get comfortable, so it took me a while to fall asleep. I could’ve taken a benadryl but I knew if I did there was zero chance I would actually drag my ass out of bed at 7:45 am to go to church, so I toughed it out and eventually fell asleep. When my alarm did go off at 7:45 I did get out of bed, got ready, and headed to church. Since it’s summer things have been a lot slower than usual, so we had a pretty light load for the babies room for the middle service, which is typically the busiest one but was pretty sparse today. We had 3 babies for most of it with 2 helpers, it’s a good thing we had a low ratio though because there was unfortunately a LOT of crying going on, we did eventually have to call the mom of one of them to come get him because he just wouldn’t stop crying. I was holding a little guy who was just crying away and nothing I could do would help, but I thought maybe one of the rockers we have might calm him down if he was getting tired? so I strapped him into the one we have that is like electronic and moves side to side and up and down in different kind of rocking motions you can program it to do. so I got him in there and turned it on, and probably about 1 minute afterwards he stopped crying entirely, so I was fairly happy with that because I always take it personally when I can’t get a baby to stop crying even though I know how dumb that is lol. so I was proud of my instincts being right here. The rest of the service was okay, some tears here and there but we managed. The service was running late so I had to run from there to the last service I actually planned on attending. Worship was good as always, we had our female lead pastor speaking for the first time in a few weeks, and before starting the actual message she spent a while talking about her life circumstances lately. Sadly, her younger brother passed away unexpectedly at the beginning of the month. He was only 44 and had two kids, the youngest being only 8 months (both of them were in the kids classes last week, and we were very carefully instructed not to greet families with “happy father’s day” unless we knew their personal circumstances. I can’t imagine having to deal with father’s day so soon after losing your father). So obviously there was a great deal of shock and grief that she had been dealing with. Years back her father had also passed unexpectedly at a young-ish age so it was a lot of calling back to that for her. But she wanted to express her thanks to the church for all the support they had been giving her, saying they had so much food sent to the house haha and many other ways people were reaching out and helping. She was talking about her kids stepping up and how their daughter (she’s 9 or 10 I think) basically saying the baby “wasn’t her cousin anymore, he was her brother” and she had practically adopted him, and I had in fact seen her taking care of him for the past two weeks. It was very sweet. So that was a lot of course, but we eventually moved on to the message, regarding how when we feel like we “should” do something, not that we are choosing to, it becomes an obligation, which ends up breeding resentment and entitlement- but we always have a choice to do something from a good point of view. so that was good. It had been raining on and off by the time I got out and I didn’t want to deal with public transit in the rain since it’s been awful the past few weeks, so I ended up getting an uber pool home. It was pretty lively, two other girls and I were in it with our driver and we were all making lively conversation for the whole ride, so that was nice. Once I got home it had stopped raining up here, apparently it had been downpouring for like 30-45 minutes but had now stopped, so we could proceed with our plans (Jess doesn’t like thunderstorms and she especially hates driving in thunderstorms). So I got changed and walked to her place, and we drove up to one of the malls in the suburbs that we like to go to, specifically because it had this one store that was featuring shirts from the “BT21″ brand that makes the BTS related merch, but we went to other stores too of course. We ended up at hot topic first I think, and they had a ton of funko pops on sale for like, $2, and I mean that’s a great deal, so I ended up grabbing a DC Bombshells Hawkgirl because why not? I also grabbed an RM BTS funko pop since he’s been my designated favorite in the group (mostly just because he was an easy choice and I can appreciate that we have the same initials, even if his stand for a pretty absurd nickname) and got the two of them. From there we ended up finding the one store we were looking for, they didn’t have the exact shirt Jess was looking for but she still ended up buying two of the other ones. From there we went to a few other stores (including what we nicknamed “the gay store” and grabbed a few things, I ended up getting a piece of Captain Marvel “wall art” from FYE that has some sort of like wood backing so it was kinda heavy lol but I like it, and then two t-shirts from Aeropostale which I hadn’t shopped from in like 12 years, but they were doing a buy one get two free t-shirt sale so I mean, can’t pass that up. Once we had gotten to all the shops we wanted to hit up we headed over to where they have their Cheesecake Factory because that’s always a must. Once we got there we were at the edge of the mall and looked out the windows to see that it was now downpouring here. Great. So we ate our dinner, and by the time we finished up it was still raining so we split a piece of cheesecake and kinda killed some more time until it let up. It was definitely all like flash thunderstorms, going super intense for a short period of time and then gone in a second. So we headed out from there and back to the car, and headed home. We did pass through some downpours on the way home but thankfully they were fairly short-lived and the other rain was very minimal. Once I got home I spent a while on my computer trying to figure out the design I wanted for my business cards since I figured I should be getting some of those if I’m still somewhat running my own practice, so that was frustrating for a while lol but I ultimately came up with something I was pleased with so that was good. From there I just watched more Anthony Bourdain (I considered starting season 3 of Jessica Jones but didn’t want to pay too much attention to the tv and I knew I’d have to pay attention to follow JJ) and just went on my computer for the rest of the night, then showering and starting to get ready for bed, and now I’m here. Tomorrow is gonna be interesting, I need attempt to get back to Target and retrieve my other prescription if they’ve actually filled it yet because they were having issues with it today, and then I have an allergist appointment that’s gonna take fucking forever and I’ll probably feel stressed about getting work done but oh well, not much I can do about it now. I’m pretty tired so I’m gonna go to bed now. Goodnight friends. Hope your Monday doesn’t suck.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

If you have the time, can you pleasey please write " You are my dentist and I have the bigest crush on you and one time you give me too much laughing gas so I end up telling you that AU" Thank you

Okay, so I don’t even wanna think about how long this prompt has been sitting in my inbox. It’s obscene. Probably close to two years and really, I’m just astonished tumblr hasn’t eaten this thing yet. But whatever, it makes me feel guilty just sitting in there with that stupid judging sunglasses face so I wrote a thing. Consider this part of Tracy’s Great Inbox Clean Out. Also, I totally didn’t follow this prompt because I distinctly remember reading at least five versions of this prompt for Everlark at the time this sucker showed up in my inbox. But hey! It’s in the same vein…except it’s canonesque set in the Catching FIre timeline, not AU…and it’d be something like Benadryl, not laughing gas… whatever. Just read.

RATED T: Angst ahoy! You can take it, though. It’s no worse than the books.

Katniss sways on her feet, leaning onto him heavily, and even though her weight is slight, the suddenness of her movements divert their steps. She croons to the night, the medicine having removed most of her usual filters. He never hears her sing. Not since Rue.

Behind him, Effie scolds the cook assigned to their suite and he tries to defend himself. “Must have been the mangoes. I had no idea she’d be allergic! Miss Trinket, please believe me, I would never–”

Peeta keeps walking, jaw aching and fists clenched in the effort to not turn around and scream at the man himself. As they stagger down the hall, Peeta’s eyes close for just a moment.

He’s slammed with it all over again. The terrifying sight of Katniss’ ears and cheeks swelling. The horrifying choking and gasping noises she made as her tongue swelled.

He’d been sure she was going to die. Certain that Snow had chosen to start the Games before the gong sounded, before they even entered the Arena.

Poison. The word rang in his head. It’d be so easy to slip something into one of their meals. The rational part of his brain knows that won’t happen. Snow would lose too much by murdering them in such a suspicious manner.

The irrational part – the one that stood outside her door last night, silently begging her to let him in despite knowing that she loves Gale but also knowing that their days are numbered, or at least his are if he gets his way – that irrational part of him still wants to go on a rampage for how close she came to dying.

Thankfully, though, one of the avoxes knew what to do. A quick injection and ten minutes of panic and then she was fine. Or at least breathing normally. A second injection and the swelling had slowly receded. Mostly.

He glances down at her glassy eyes as she stumbles and grips his shirt for balance. Her eyelids droop a little. The injections made her loopy. Splotches still pepper her skin and the tip of her nose is still unnaturally bulbous. But the medic who rushed upstairs after the avox sent for him assured Peeta over and over that she needed rest and one more injection around midnight. Peeta took the syringe from the medic and insisted that he’d do it.

As he struggles to open the door to her room, Katniss sways away from him and he pulls her back just in time to prevent her smacking her head on the doorframe. Once they’re inside, he helps her into her bed, hoping she’s not going to be stubborn tonight and shut him out again. He’s not sure he can stand having a single door closed between them after what happened at dinner.

“Stay,” she slurs, her cheek flattened on her pillow and her fingers grasping at his hand when he stands to take his jacket off. “Stay, Peeta.”

He’s struck with another memory. One from Twelve, when she came home injured and asked him to stay. She’d been under the influence of medicine then too, and he wonders if the only way she’ll want him is if she’s drugged.

The thought stings, but he still removes his shoes and enough of his clothes to at least sleep comfortably. Katniss sings the whole time until he climbs into bed with her.

When he’s lying next to her, she stares at him in the semi-darkness. The lights from the city without dance on the walls. He should get up and change her window settings to block it out. Before he can, her hands come up and smack his cheeks, squishing them together.

“How do they do that?” she asks and he blinks a few times, trying to place what she’s talking about. “Ha! There! They can’t be real.”

“Ka’niff …wha are you ‘alking avout?” His words are mangled by his smushed cheeks.

“Eyelashes,” she tells him. “Yours.”

She releases him and curls up close to his chest, nudging his arm until he wraps it around her.

“My eyelashes?”

“I keep waiting for them to get tangled up when you blink.”

“Oh?” She yawns and slides her hand under his shirt, unaware of the one-two kick of his heart at the intimate touch.

“Mmm-hmmm. I used to stare at them when we were working on the plant book. You almost caught me one time. Or maybe you did catch me and are just too polite to say anything.”

“I don’t think I noticed,” he whispers, trying to place a time she could be referring to.

“Now you’re the one not paying attention,” she says and giggles. He’s not sure what to say and she quickly sobers. Her eyes pin him in place beside her. Somehow focused with pinpoint precision on his heart and yet simultaneously foggy with the drugs.

“I like sleeping with you, Peeta. I might even like you touching me. You should do it more often because I’m gonna miss it when I’m dead. But Haymitch promised. You live this time. I die.” She sing songs the words in a morbidly cheerful tune as she starts tracing random patterns on his stomach, stealing his words with her touch and her confession. Her lips curl up in a sleepy smile and she nuzzles her nose into the hollow of his throat and arranges his arms to hold her impossibly close. Her leg wedges between his and she kisses him just below his jaw. “But you’re never gonna hear me say that. I’m a vault and you won’t get my secrets out of me.”

His brain feels sluggish and his chest aches. Peeta ignores the first part of what she said because to face it now might drive him mad. He tells himself it’s the medicine speaking, not Katniss. But that does nothing to stop him from wanting to tell her that she’s going to live. It’s his dying wish and he’ll do everything he can to make it possible once they enter the arena in a few days. He wants to tell her that he loves her, but that’d be selfish right now. The important thing is to speak with Haymitch, as soon as possible. To make sure their deal still stands. Somehow he’s not surprised that their mentor is playing both sides but the betrayal still stings. Haymitch should’ve told him about this promise Katniss thinks she’s gotten from him. It can wait until morning, at least.

But before he can formulate a decent response to the rest of what she said, Katniss releases a throaty snore, alerting him that she’s asleep, and he’s left wide awake to deal with the fallout of her words.

[breathe65]

Sugary Story

The bruises are healing from the multiple IVs, heprin shots and blood draws, so my stomach and my lungs are healing, as are my emotions. Here the story of my last two months. Really a lifelong struggle with GI issues and the decision that had to be made. It was a "normal," day, I got ready, wearing my layers of clothes to hide my bloated tummy and leggings (jeans or any pants with a waist no longer fit.) I think sometimes, "ignorance, is bliss," half way through the work day my doctor called me and told me I had to go to the ER. I knew this was coming and was getting used to needing to go to the local ER to get my GI symptoms under control. This time was different, they did the usual procedures but they didn't help, I was still bloated, in pain and full of $h** after 6 days it was decided I would need help from my GI team at Mass General. Trying to juggle work via phone and emails as I got ready for Boston, I had a feeling, I would be out of workk a while. After a long 30 plus, hours in the ER, my sister and I had memorized the 4 white walls and laughed at the fact he TV was to small to see, she stayed with me. A room finally opened for me and I was whisked up to a medical floor at Mass General. Two days into my stay the GI team realized this was not a "normal" blockage, they put a G tube into my nose and I swolled it into my stomach. I didn't know it at the time, but I had, had my last solid meal for about a month. My parents gave up thier vacation and flew home, at this point we had surgeons involved and discussing getting the ACE surgery earlier then my scheduled date in March. The ACE procedure is very new, I am the first CF adult to have this surgery done in the Boston area. The surgery involves putting in a cecostomy tube which I flush every night and it cleans my system out. This procedure was developed for children who can't control thier bodies and therefore they have a cecostomy tube placed to help them go to the bathroom. It was evident I needed the surgery, my body could no longer digest puree food (which I don't recomend trying.) There were a lot of people that needed to be involved with this very new surgery. I had a pediatric surgeon as well as an adult GI surgeon, I had a CF team who was watching my lungs, and more nurses and doctors then I could imagine. Fast forward to two weeks of my G tube, family visits, and daytime tv I was going to get the surgery! It was early when the nurses came in to prep me. The sun was rising and I took a picute. My parents got there early too, my anxiety was starting to peak, what if this surgery didn't work? What if the anastesia was to much for my lungs to take? Suddenly all the papers I had signed indicating the risks felt to real. At 7am they came up to get me, I was wheeled to the surgical floor and told I now needed to say goodbye to my parents. I held back tears and sent last minute texts and the surgery doors opened and I knew there was no turning back. I was in my "chariot" of a stretcher outside the OR. There were doctors and nurses getting ready for my surgery. They were all coming out of te OR to reassure me they were going to do thier best, but nobody could promise me it would all be ok. They gave me some anxiety medicaton into my port which didn't seem to help. My surgeons came out to go over the procedure and within minutes I was whisked into the to cold OR, I was hoooked up to everything on the cold OR table when a tear slipped down my cheek. Did I say everything to everyone, did everyone know I loved them? I heard muffled voices behind the masks as they started stating my case, I drifted into a deep sleep, not sure what I would wake up to. The pain was the first thing I remember when I was waking up. The pain in my stomach. They had to open me up due to scar tissue and the surgery was a little moe complicated then ancipated but it was done! I was asking for my parents which seemed like forever when they said I could be wheeled up to my room. My parents were in my room I was told, the nexte thing I remember is nurses trying ot hush me as wheeled down the hall into my room, they said my mom was in my room so I was yelling for her. Reunited with my parents the magnitude of the surgery set in. The nurses got me up and I walked, as directed by the doctors. When they put me back in bed I had nothing left, physically an emotionally I was done and my parents told me they loved me before sneaking out of my hopsital room. The next week was a week of ups and downs. I got to eat again, but also got a post op illium (my intestines were not waking up from surgery) I was put on IV's and IV benadryl which made me sad and exhausted. My new tube got infected and was treated. My lungs hurt and I was weak. I later told my parents I really belived my surgery was not a big deal, in my mind I was going to be back at work later the same week I had surgery. Maybe denial is a good way to live, maybe it gave me strength to endure the weeks leading up to surgery, thinking surgery was the end of all he pain. The next week I was in and out of sleep a lot, trying to grasp how to flush my new tube, try and get back to doing my vest, which hurt and eating again all while on IVs and benadryl. When I did have energy my favorite places to walk were, the rock garden of healing or to see the old ambulance in the lobby of the old hospital. I came home thinking I was in the clear. I was depressed at how bad I still felt, how much pain I was in, how exahusted I felt. I had home nurses coming to my house but I wanted to be at work, I wanted energy. It was a tough week as I fought through what I had just been through and a plethora of emotions. I remember thinking I didn't know why I did this, but reminded myself I may be able to help someone else and that is what kept me going during the rough days. After a week home I ended back needing to see my surgeon and was givven medication to help with pain. That was it!! Yesterday was my first full day at work, today I got back to the gym. I am eating, I am walking Faith and re connecting with friends. While I know I have a lot of healing to do, I am more confident in my abiity to push myself and make a full recovery! I know its not a straight line of all ups, but I am feeling good at what I can do each day, and feeling blessed for all the understanding and support and encouragment.

[ciaomichaella]

It’s after 2am and I’m wide awake not just because of the usual #insomnia I deal with but because I feel like I got beat up and then run over by a truck. I had #PT yesterday after work and I’m hella sore. Fun times at #physicaltherapy woohoo. My therapist sent mr home w/ an evil torture device I’m quite familiar with by now, I mean lovely parting gift to help my #rehab and get my muscles strong and functional again so that I hopefully won’t need surgery. As a dancer and former cheerleader, I was familiar w/ Therabands but only in terms of point and flex for the feet. Now that I’m older and after several stints of PT for one thing or another, I’ve come to know them as instruments of pain. The lightest color (0) is new to me. I have a LONG way to go in terms of recovery especially when 0 is already so challenging. My therapist was super stoked today though because she says I got another 5% improvement in range of motion 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻 I can definitely see and feel improvement in the up and down motions but the side to side and reaching across movements are still very limited and painful. It’s probably gonna take awhile until my muscles loosen up. As always, your girl is incapable of relaxing, I’m one giant ball of tension. But yea, I’m #sore and can’t find a comfortable position to sleep. I’m #exhausted & keep #yawning but sleep is eluding me. Part of me is regretting NOT taking massive amounts of ibuprofen and/or benadryl hours ago so I could sleep. This heat wave we’re experiencing is also not helping. I guess I’ll keep watching East Family vids on YouTube or keep scrolling through IG for Taylor Swift posts 😬 https://www.instagram.com/p/CEYyqMxjLNN/?igshid=odfqawo0h2hz

[mintykiwi]

Im a sleepyhead. sleepy I'm wide awake I,m perfectly still it's so weird knowing you're in theprocsss of recoverinh but I don't feel sick but I kind of do. Am I sick? I definitely think my brain is sick. I hope it feels better soon. This bed is so comfy And I feels so weak I never want to leave it. I,m not usually talkative but talking is so fun rnIt's sso heartbreaking to think that if a person of color was in my position, running away from home after a suicide attempt, they could be killed it's literally not faie to try and concentrate every Not to sound like an out of touch white girl but I really hope racism ends soon. I think I used to donate to like gofundmes and activist websites but I only have fify dollars to my name. I'm like a wee little cartoon mouse. This is my truest most genuine expression of my thoughts, I always think the,m but I I usually am quiet about it. I hope an archeologist or something finds this post and cherishes my desire to live. I'm still hopped up When I do share my thoughts people usually thimk they're funny. Maybe that means I'm funny. I think I could be funny if I tried but not too hard that's what she said. I used to be self conscious about my weight but I thimk fat people are cool. I think I might still be a litl chubby. I'm still hopped up on benadryl but I can't sleep. I hope that if my mom or dad ever find the CBd gummies in my dresser they would be okay with it. There's a million thoughts in my head I can't type fast enough. I like typing on my tablet the letters are nice and big and the keyboard is forgibong. Haah bong. They should invent weed for girls. I daydreamed about a really cute and compassionate fat girl cuddling me. I hope shes real. Maybe shes the gilr reading this. Maybe my existence is funny. Maybe I'm a funny little guy. I bet I sound like a stereotypical SJW but I don't care because every one should. Be a warrior for something. I get. Tired so easily. I was almost too weak to eat a graham cracker but I did it. I wonder if people who think they're funny are more pretentious about comedy than people who don't. I thought about beinh a comedian but I get stage friught. This reads

Like a shitpost but each and every one of these thoughts is 100% genuine. Im going to therapy soon. I usually feel non biny but when im a round girl's I feel so girl I asked for a female therapist in the hopes that she might understand the stuff that comes with being perceived as a woman but I would be okay with a non binary therapist of any sex assigned at birth because we also share experiences. I hope she knows so,e good jokes. I'm cold but the nice person who gets paid to stand at suicidal peoples bedside gave me another blanket. I'll probably blog for my whole life to be honest. I threw up a lot of hours ago and it was pitch black. I pretended I was a creature from some creepy pasta or something. I also pretended to be a delicate little thing but that got boring. I want to be cute but also strong. I've been really fatigued lately and it's been a while since I worked out last. I hope my sick biceps don.t wither away to nothing. I think alcohol also effects muscle gain. I shou drink less. Exspescially since I,m on medication. Maybe I. Shouldn't be drinking at all.

Im giving my knife collection to my mom before I move because I want to keep myself safe. the most beautiful and wonderful kys ever a wish to keep yourself safe is

One of my friends made me uncomfortable online. They always wanted to voice chat just to and they sent me stuff whem I didn't really want stuff. Some of the stuff is cool though. I got a pillow shaped like bfdi pillow because becau I want to cuddle her. I'm so touch starved its unreal. Its really nice talkimh too the woman at my bedside. I hope he becomes a better person but I don't want to be friends anymore. I have 30 crediits in college and I need 30 more. I wish I could lie in this comfortable bed forever. Actually no I would like to play outside. I'm constantly overestimating my strength level so Am I chlidish. Am I traumatized. Will beinh childish cause people to not. Want you around anymore for being a burden. I thought I wanted to die young and haunt my mother but now I think staying alive and living well would inconvenience her more. I want to eat less sugar but I have such a sweet tooth. Though, iron is what my body really craves. My feet are cold but the rest of me is warm. I write poetry sometimes. If this gets popular I hope you can see poetry in it. I hope you see poetry in it anyway. I can see moving pictures behind my eyes. I still love her she has done nice things for me before but she's just mean sometimes and I couldn't handle it. Give you the responsibility and respect that you maybe want.

im so excited to see what kind of person I will become

I didn't kill myself. I didn't kill myself. I didn't kill myself. I hope in the future I will be a very kind Jewish girl or maybe no binary Im gender fluid so it depemds I guess. Oh right I'm gender fluid.. I love being genderluid and a lesbian and autistic and a convert to Judsism. I could go without the chronic back pain. They took my blood pressure and my bicep was big so it popped off. I'm getting strongr (: I will recover. I hope that in the future I have a loving family I want a dad who goes to therapy and no longer hits me i want a stepmom who would never insult me or call me a piece of well you know and I want a yappy little dog mamed Chloe.

[thickthighsnhearteyes]

I’m back

I know I’ve been gone for like a year, but I’m back.

 I have been going through some shit. I had my heart broken last summer, and it sent me into a not so good place. I’ve been highly paranoid, anxious, self conscious, and distrusting of everyone, especially of someone who I should be able to trust with no hesitation. 

I gained a lot of weight when I entered this relationship. I gained 70+ pounds because hey, I have a person so why keep trying to impress other people. I’ve been in this relationship for four years now and the weight gain hasn’t stopped. 

I used to run a 5k every week, with training in between each race, yet doctors still told me I weighed too much and I was unhealthy. How? I had been eating better, running over 5 miles a week, at least, and was still unhealthy because of my BMI. They wanted me to weigh 120, and I have never ever weighed that much in my life. I was chubby even as a kid, so how is it possible for me to have that body type if i never have been thin? So I kept pushing myself and training harder and making myself run the entire 5k instead of taking breaks to walk because I -had- to lose that extra 30/40 pounds to fit into their box of healthy. Then one day after a race I broke out into hives all over my body. They were on my face, neck, arms, legs, everywhere. A few weeks later I went to the doctor and I was told that I’m allergic to my own sweat. Despite the diagnosis I kept running, and was just popping 2 benadryl after a race so I’d pass out and not scratch the hell out of my body. But I’d still break out even if I sweated a little, like during a hot shower or moving boxes or walking quickly at work. I couldn’t live like this, and eventually I stopped running because it became so unbearably uncomfortable. Not to mention people always pointing it out, like I didn’t know it was there, like I couldn’t feel it... Like they were going to catch a disease from me if they got too close to me. I couldn’t handle feeling so disgusting and uncomfortable so I just stopped. All of my progress stopped and started to disintegrate; and I started packing on weight almost immediately. 

I’m still struggling with my allergy, but yesterday I was surprised that I didn’t break out in 90 degree weather when I would usually be covered as soon as I went outside. It took me actually running and hiking up hills to break out. Maybe I just took a really good allergy pill that day, maybe it’s finally going away. I won’t get my hopes up though because I don’t want to be disappointed.

I’m trying to eat a vegan diet, and make what I eat meaningful. Cocoa puffs are tasty, but they provide no nutritional value and don’t sustain me for more than an hour, if that. That’s a lesson I had to re-learn yesterday when I just ate sugar for breakfast and then was grumpy and crashed as soon as I got home and ate. 

Let’s see how this goes. I’m not going to push myself hard but I ‘m going to push myself,especially to make better decisions with what I’m eating.