#and i take three doses every four hours

[cbk1000]

One thing I hate about taking iron supplements is having to plan what I eat/drink around it, because certain food and drinks will block iron absorption. Mr. Jenn makes me some scrambled eggs for breakfast? No cheese because it's too close to my next supplement, and dairy blocks iron absorption. No morning tea that I love to start off with because the tannins in it will block iron absorption. I want that shit injected directly into my veins and to be free.

[sharkieboi]

eternal dilemma of go to sleep now cause you’re tired but knowing you’ll wake up in 2-3 hours with at least 2hrs to your work alarm, or push and stay up for the next 2hrs and /maybe/ sleep until your work alarm goes off

[steddiealltheway]

After the bats, Steve gets a bit self conscious about his scars, and starts going on less and less dates because he doesn’t know how to explain them to girls.

He’s hanging out with the fruity four when he starts complaining about it. Eddie snorts and says, “Imagine how I feel.”

Steve cringes and apologizes because everyone knows he got the worst of it.

Robin starts suddenly laughing maniacally, and they all look at her. Nancy asks what she’s laughing about.

Robin jokes, “Well the solution is right in front of you. Just date each other.”

Nancy joins in laughing with her, but Steve and Eddie eye each other. Steve had never thought a gaze could hold more than words until he sees the way Eddie is staring at him.

In all honesty, Steve wasn’t just missing all the physical stuff that comes with a relationship. Well, he was definitely missing it, but more importantly, he was missing the way it felt to have someone that loved him so unconditionally. In reality, he had only had the illusion of that before, but it had been nice. And it was especially nice to care for someone so deeply that it felt like his life had a whole new purpose - to make them happy.

The more he looks at Eddie, the more the laughter from the girls becomes white noise. He thinks that he could treat him that way. Hold him as if he’s doing it for him and not for himself. Call him to wish him a good morning and good night so he could be the first and last thing on his mind every day. Also, to give himself a reason to wake up and a calming voice that can lull him to sleep.

Maybe it would work. Even if Eddie’s not a girl, he thinks he might be able to overlook that. Especially with the beautiful depths of his brown eyes and the big, soft lips of his and that adorable nose even though it’s not a button nose like Steve usually likes. Honestly, Eddie is beautiful in his own way, and Steve knows he isn’t immune to it especially in large doses.

So, he shouldn’t even begin to consider the thought. Fake dating or sort of dating Eddie is completely off the table.

But Eddie’s staring at him, eyes scanning over him and settling on his lips in a way that makes Steve’s heart thud so hard he thinks everyone in the room might be able to hear it.

Okay, maybe the dating stuff isn’t completely off the table, but there’s no way he’s bringing it up first. He nods at Eddie once and looks away trying to signal an end to whatever discussion / consideration they just had. But he can still feel Eddie’s eyes linger on him the rest of the night.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, three of the four are leaving Steve’s place with Nancy offering Robin a ride and Eddie lingering behind a bit. Steve’s been overly aware of his presence since Robin’s whole dating each other suggestion.

What makes it worse is that Eddie is also aware of what his presence does to Steve and keeps shooting him knowing looks and winks. Until now.

Now, he hovers in Steve’s doorway and watches as Nancy and Robin pile into a car and drive off. Then, he takes a few seconds before turning back to Steve saying, “Tell me I’m not the only one considering Robin’s idea, please.”

Steve thinks about it for a moment before he takes Eddie by the wrist and pulls him back inside, closing the door behind him.

“I’m not saying like… actually dating,” Eddie says, the confidence from earlier all but evaporating into thin air as he fidgets anxiously with his rings. “I mean like… we’re just each other’s rock or something. Hell, if you just let me flirt at you and tell me things are going to be okay, then I’m fine with that. You can look at it as practice while you regain your confidence with the ladies or whatever. Just…” Eddie trails off, and Steve thinks he knows exactly what he means.

He finishes Eddie’s thought out loud, “It’s hard going through everything we did without someone to hold us and tell us it’s okay to feel scared sometimes. I mean… it’s one thing to have friends, best friends even, but… they get girlfriends and while you’re their platonic soulmate, their actual soulmate always comes first a little.” Steve sits back on his couch and runs his hands over his face. He hadn’t meant to project about Robin and her relationship with Nancy because he’s happy for them really. He’s just jealous that he doesn’t have what they have.

And really, he knows that friendships are everything, and Robin is his everything but… he sighs. Sometimes it would be nice to be held and kissed and get lost in someone else so deeply that everything else disappears.

Maybe that’s just Steve though. Always running from relationship to relationship for something he’s never able to find.

The couch shifts next to him, and a hand slowly comes up to Steve’s pulling it away from his face, and intertwining their fingers together. Steve’s heart skips a beat as he turns to stare at his and Eddie’s hands together. Steve talks without really thinking, “I know relationships aren’t everything. Friendships are really what makes a person whole, and you can’t get everything out of a relationship but… I really want to trial run this thing with us. We can call it speed running to more than best friends or something.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “That sounds like friends with benefits.”

Steve rolls the term around a bit in his head and squeezes Eddie’s hand while shrugging. “That works too,” Steve mutters.

Eddie shifts towards him and looks him in the eye. “You’ve gotta clear up what that means, man. Terms and conditions and shit.”

Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips. “I wouldn’t mind kissing you. Going on dates or hanging out or whatever you want to call it. Cuddling - hell, anything touching I’m fine with… with reason,” Steve says although with the way Eddie is staring at this lips and the warmth coursing through his body, he’s not sure he has a limit to the whole touching thing. Shit. He knew he wouldn’t be immune to Eddie.

“I’m good with that. Yeah, just… communication is key here, right?” Eddie asks eyes still dipping down to Steve’s lips and back to his eyes between his words.

“Communication,” Steve echoes, staring at Eddie’s lips before communicating, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Finally,” Eddie says before leaning forward and locking their lips together, his hand squeezing Steve’s but he can hardly register it because of how badly he wants to do nothing but kiss Eddie until he’s forgotten any bad thing to ever happen to him.

Then, Steve feels it. The small (big) part of his heart that’s screaming at him that he needs this to be more than a friends with benefits trial run. He needs Eddie to be his and only his if a simple kiss can ruin him like this.

He pulls away and looks at Eddie, searching his gaze and seeing something there he hadn’t seen before. “Eddie, remember everything I literally just said about the trial run and friends with benefits.”

Eddie nods in response. His hand still in Steve’s squeezes.

“I don’t want that,” Steve says and panics when he sees the broken look cross over Eddie’s face as he pulls his hand away.

“Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have-”

Steve cuts him off. “It’s because I want more than that, and you deserve more than that. Screw this trial run and all that shit. I want to date you. Like… actually date you and give this a shot. If you want to that is.”

Eddie’s tongue quickly swipes over his top lip over and over nervously as he stares at Steve. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. God, Eddie, I can’t believe I even suggested friends with benefits like a dick,” Steve says with a groan running a hand through his hair.

“I’m the one who accepted it very willingly I might add,” Eddie says with a big smile that fades to a smaller one. “But I’d love more than anything to make this something more.”

Steve’s stomach flips and he feels absolutely giddy with joy. “Quickest trial run ever, right?”

Eddie laughs. “Thank god.”

Steve leans in and kisses him again before pulling back and saying, “Best communication ever, right? Good thinking on your part.”

“The best thinking,” Eddie says then kisses Steve again.

Steve thinks that maybe he’s finally found what he’s always been searching for (but really doesn’t want to give Robin the credit).

[gayest-squrrel]

It's because I'm alwjays on that damn cold medicine !!!!

my heart feels minty

[raainberry]

How and When I Fell For You (This is)

« To be attracted to someone and start to love that person. »

Momo x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - how would a college romance start out between two equally awkward engineering student and dancer?

wordcount - 3.2K

T/W - Alcohol, Food, Drugs (mentions, allusion)

A/N - took a (long) while but im happy with how it turned out, i hope you enjoy it!

10:26pm.

Four minutes. Four more minutes of looking at that textbook, then you could leave. Question of principle, you weren’t going to finish solving that stupid problem by 10:30pm, but at least you’d have stuck to the schedule.

Hundreds of pen taps against your head, leg bouncing up and down underneath the wooden desk, your whole body itched at the mere thought of leaving this place. The party you were heading to after was much more exciting to think about than this theorem.

The chaotic and carefree atmosphere wasn’t something you particularly liked, but you needed to let your hair down every once in a while, your friends made sure of it.

10:29… 10:30pm sharp. You closed your textbook and laptop shut, shoving them into your bag in one swift motion before leaving the chair you’d been warming up for the past three hours.

Your feet felt heavy, dragging them to that party was going to be a little harder than expected. The all nighters were catching up to you, and it seemed you weren’t the only one.

The girl trailing behind you carried herself the same way. You were far enough ahead to hold the exit doors for her, which allowed you to take in her appearance. Hands in her sleeves, hood over her head as her soles barely left the ground. The sight was nothing extraordinary, it was about the same energy as any other student in that building, but something about her made it captivating enough for your eyes to stay on her longer than deemed normal.

Her eyes met yours for a split second as she walked past you, leaving behind her a small but thankful nod and a surprisingly fresh, fruity smell you’d remember for a moment.

Had you not been to that party, that scent was going to be the only thing you’d remember. The girl wasn’t going to be anything special on your mind, time would have erased the interaction faster than the beloved citrus you’d picked up from around her.

Memories and taste are weirdly linked.

That explained the gag reflex that vodka shot pulled from your throat when your friends waved one in your face. Ironic when you thought about the lack of memory triggering it: a blackout night you emerged from in an unknown living room with barely any knowledge of who you were.

That didn’t stop you from downing it with a lovely orange juice though, earning cheers from your peers. A wall crumbled around your brain, one less keeping you from normal social interactions.

Alcohol was fun for you. Alcohol made you brave. Alcohol made you friends. The lack of inhibitions was liberating at small doses. Devastating at abusive ones. Somewhere in between in moderation.

Somewhere in between… That’s where you were when the citrus scent filled your nose again. Surely you weren’t that far gone yet. This wasn’t something your brain had made up because she stood in front of you, all glamed up and beautiful.

The girl you’d held the door for. Flashes of you making way for her hours ago flooded both your minds, pulling a laugh out of you and a stare out of her.

The fact that you bumped into each other in a doorway was funny enough of an event for you to giggle before the liquid in your veins voiced your thoughts.

“Woah, it’s you!” You yelled over the music with little care for her earsdrums. The latin song was enough pressure on them, she was trying to get away from the blaring speakers while yours enjoyed it as much as the drink in your hand.

Demente. The melody kept singing, describing the way you felt when her eyes met yours and seemed to do so for the first time in her life. Life has a sense of humor.

“Oh, I held the door for you like an hour ago? At the library?” You reminded, or asked, you weren’t sure. You’d seen her already, right? You were drunk, not crazy.

Thankfully she proved you right when her gaze softened. “Right. Well… Thank you.” She mumbled because maybe that’s what you wanted out of this. She knew she hadn’t been the most polite with that nod, but it was better than nothing, which is what followed your brief conversation.

That was it.

She just pushed past you after that, and you were still too shy to follow up on anything. She was already far away by the time you even came up with an obvious “you’re welcome”.

That was your first encounter with Momo.

—

The second was a little less pathetic. Mainly because it didn’t involve you speaking nor actually interacting with her.

Your eyes were pleading for a break from the complex numbers and formulas on your screen, and found sweet relief in your bland surroundings. Beige outdated walls never looked so good until the door girl from a week prior grazed them.

Her stride was a little brighter, still visibly defeated but at least there was a sense of purpose. You wondered where she was heading, your brain too caught up in how cute she looked to make sense of the clothes she wore.

That you could only do on your third encounter: the most pathetic of them all.

Looking back, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but you sure didn’t want to ever see the face you made throughout the whole stage you saw her on.

She turned out to be part of the dance team, something your College was most famous for. The whole arts program was as prestigious as your engineering one, if not more. Aspiring artists all over the country dreamed of making it on, something only the most talented were able to make into their reality.

If you doubted that fact before (which you didn’t), seeing Momo on that stage was enough to make your mind up.

It was only a rehearsal. The very first one that took place months before the real deal, when her performance blew your mind out of the room, transcending through the sound you were supposed to monitor.

Three year-end shows in three years on this campus, you had yet to witness such talent. That wasn’t exactly what piqued your interest though. The girl on stage seemed different from the one you held the door for. Yet similar to the one who grazed the walls with purpose.

Three different versions of one person, all in a week of knowing about her existence. A smile pulled at your lips as your brain grew entertained by the situation.

How many versions were there? Which one was the real one? Were they all real?

The engineering mind is ever so curious. Hopefully you’d be able to satisfy it and see more of her.

—

“Hi.”

That’s all you managed to say to her for weeks after rehearsal. You liked to think you were doing well, earning a little more than a nod after some time: a smile.

You had yet to hear her voice. That time at the party didn’t count, you barely could make out her few words. Their number never increased. She could only return your “hi” a month later, when you caught another version of her at another party.

She was proud of this one. The entertainer. She needed a few drinks in her for it to come out, the pain in her head in the morning was never fun, but the moment was.

The lights, the eyes, the attention on her… Some kind of harmless drug she got high on and never came down from. Purely recreational.

Her heart raced yet she felt at peace. This part of her was undoubtedly hers. You had no reason to look so surprised in the crowd.

“Hi.” She finally spoke when you crossed path in a quieter part of the house. A purple lit corridor on the first floor, near a wooden and trashed staircase.

Everything short of an elegant place to meet your future lover, but quite the memory for the start of a wonderful friendship.

“How are you?”

You smiled as her voice reached your ears for the first time. It was nothing familiar, weird even as you tried to associate it with such a familiar face.

It’s harder to hear new sounds than to see new things. Yet to understand something, you need both. They’re complimentary. Maybe that’s why your mind was only satisfied whenever you spoke with her.

—

The campus library loved to put Momo in your path, and she grew to love being in the way. Glimpses of your nose burried in textbooks that you only lifted to send her a smile as she walked by. A short moment she looked forward to as days passed.

Your demeanor was everything but what she had witnessed so far. You had been the bold one until the purple corridor. A couple weeks had passed since. You’d ended up taking a walk that night, circling the house too many times to count before wrapping it up in the early spring grass of the backyard. Flowers went to sleep around you, lulled by the soft sound of your voices as you opened up to each other.

Had it been too much? Would you rather have kept things as simple and mysterious as they were? But then you wouldn’t smile at her… Why weren’t you saying hi anymore though? Did she make you nervous?

Your behavior was intriguing yet undeniably endearing. She wanted to see more of you.

“Hi.” She smiled, leaning against the sound console you were sitting at.

Another rehearsal, a routine one used to check up on the progress of the show reunited the two of you.

She came up to you first for the second time, surprising and enabling your curious self. She sounded different though. Less confident, but ever so lovely.

You couldn’t help but wonder what made the difference. You’d come up with a theory; one where the confident dancer was everything that shy student wanted to be.

Although she had nothing to be shy about in your eyes, it was funny how she was anyway. Were you the one making her shy?

“Hi. You did amazing.” You smiled back and Momo chuckled as her lips made way for a bright grin.

“Thank you. I mean, I feel like I was all over the place but I really appreciate it.” She confessed, running a hand through her hair.

“If you were, you did an amazing job at covering it.” You joked, silently referring to how charismatic she was on that stage. “So…” You trailed off, trying to navigate the slightly awkward atmosphere. “Have you been doing well?”

“I have, yeah.” She nodded. “What about you?”

“Good. I’ve been good.”

The awkward silence won very easily. You nodded a couple times and glanced over her shoulder, mind wandering in search of a way to ask her about your previous encounter.

She beat you to it.

“Uhm… I wanted to say thank you for listening to me that night.” She spoke, although hesitantly. “That was really nice of you.”

You didn’t need to be familiar with her voice to know it came from the heart. It warmed yours to think about the comfort you might have brought her.

If it were like that all the time she wouldn’t mind having you around.

So the next time you smiled at her from afar, she crossed the distance in between your feet.

Just to say hi.

You answered her every time for the next few weeks, and she smiled back at you whenever you asked about her and how well she was doing.

She nodded along whenever you vented about numbers, coding and theorems. She giggled whenever you joked around and poked fun at your surroundings or yourselves.

She tagged along when you had to make a small impromptu trip to the convenience store a month later.

She laughed for hours with you, sharing stories about herself and thanked you for the food and the joy you’d given her.

She felt she had made a true friend that evening. One she could count and rely on whenever her environment became too big of a distraction.

That evening was the first time your heart skipped a beat for her.

—

Momo was talented. There was no doubt about that, until she faced the mirror with a weakened mind.

The year end show, which served as a final exam for the dance team, was coming up quick. That meant she spent most of her time at the studio. Day and night, skipping a few classes to get a few moves down.

It was fine. You didn’t see a problem with it, until you learned a few meals were skipped too. So you made sure to bring her some food whenever she practiced late, which was nearly everyday.

The sound of her panting reached your ears as soon as you opened the door. You peeked inside, seeing she was alone tonight and stepped in just as she noticed your reflection.

Momo turned to you, the grin on her face genuine and bright as she walked to meet you halfway. She wasn’t sure of the cause behind her increasing heart rate, but she knew your arms would soothe it.

“I brought you a few things.” You smiled, and she nodded before pulling you in for hug, barely sparing a glance at the plastic bag in your hands.

The feeling of your arms around her was better than the smell of her favorite food. She had to seek it out for her own comfort and sanity.

This whole year-end show thing was slowly driving her crazy.

She had been struggling to get some details down, and you watched for weeks as she obsessed over the way her body moved.

Perfection was the standard here. She knew that as much as the next person. She never held herself up to less than that, but for some reason she couldn’t do anything right that night.

The hours she’d been putting were catching up to her, limbs failing on her more often as minutes passed by. The song mashup played over and over, keeping you from dozing off on the familiar leather couch. The food sat untouched at its foot, cold and slowly developing into a digestive threat.

The phone in your hand had long lost your attention, battery on its last leg when the percentage warning popped as a last attempt to get it back.

Your eyes stayed on her though, tired but mesmerized. You couldn’t tell what she thought was so wrong in her execution. She had performed the whole routine perfectly for the tenth time when the loop she was stuck in finally broke.

A sudden groan through her gritted teeth, her body giving out before hitting the ground, the tears in her eyes burning her cheeks red… It all startled you to your feet, running to her side as if it’d keep her from falling even lower.

Her body was fragile in your arms but her priority seemed to be hiding from you. Her hands attempted to conceal her weakness displayed by her treacherous sobs.

As much as your heart urged you to push them away, you helped her hands by looking away, but never let go of her. Your arms tightened around her, bringing her face closer to your neck.

Her tears were warm against her palms, rivaling with the warmth in her chest. The worries on her mind slowly faded, replaced with thoughts of you. Of your arms around her, of your fingers in her hair and the way your own palm rested against her ear as you held her close.

You held your breath as her every cry hit your chest. Your own attempt at soothing the pain it caused within it.

“You’ve been doing a great job, Momo. Don’t beat yourself up.” You tried to reassure her with the truth. “You’re gonna be amazing as always.”

Just in case your words weren’t enough, your hand awkwardly patted the side of her upper arm, though your soul yearned to ease hers in a more traditional manner.

Maybe later. Another time. This one wasn’t right.

—

“Oh my gosh—I did it!”

Coming from Momo, the words weren’t that surprising to hear. In fact, you expected them with a grin as you stood a few feet away from the result board.

It was all a little dramatic, you never understood why they couldn’t just send the exam results through e-mail like everyone else. Then again, this wasn’t your usual College. You were just thankful to have actually passed, happily missing out on the public display of disappointment.

“Y/n, I made it! I’m still gonna be on the team next year!” Momo squealed as she ran towards you.

Welcoming her with arms wide open was a reflex at that point, but it never meant less than the first time you’d done it. You giggled along with her as well, still unsure why but it had become a natural reaction within you.

Maybe it was the way her nose scrunched whenever she was happy. You felt a wave of joy and excitement as you realised just how often you witnessed it.

You made her happy. Or at least, she was happy around you. Maybe that’s why she trusted you enough to catch her when she threw herself in your arms, legs wrapping around your waist.

That wasn’t a habit.

That never happened before.

Yet your arms found themselves around her, holding her tight despite being frozen in place.

That was the second time your heart skipped a beat for her. The third one happened just seconds later, when you felt her lips against your cheeks.

She must be really happy, you thought. You sure were as time seemed to stretch, making her kiss linger on…

Dramatic. Maybe you belonged in this school in more ways than one.

“Sorry, I’m emotional.” She said, pulling away just enough to look at you.

Again, it was the first time she kissed you. So why did it felt like the most natural thing in the world?

“I-It’s fine.” You stuttered, all the way down to your smile.

“Are you sure? What’s that about?” She giggled, cupping your cheeks. Her fingers were soft against your skin, a new feeling that left you breathless though her voice was familiar enough to know she was teasing you about the blush on your cheeks.

“I’m hot— It’s hot.” You pointed out. It wasn’t a lie. Using it as an excuse made it one.

“It is, yeah…” She nodded. “Or am I?”

Your arms nearly gave out and dropped her. Momo felt your limbs falter around her, but it only made her laugh and tighten her own around you.

“You know, I wasn’t lying when I said I’m emotional. I’m feeling a lot of things, and a lot of them…” She trailed off, eyes stuck on yours as her heart picked up the pace once more.

There was no backing out now.

She could feel her throat dry up, her tongue knotting itself as she tried to get the words out of her heart. The air was becoming thicker by the second, making it hard to even as much as breathe them out.

“Momo, I—” You started, and it seemed that’s all she needed. The sound of your voice, of her name coming from you.

It all seemed easier now.

“A lot of them are for you.” She finally finished, eyes closed as anticipation and embarrassment suddenly hit her.

That pulled a soft chuckle out of you, which washed it all away and pulled them back to yours. Just in time to catch them slipping down to her lips.

You saw her smile, the cutest one yet before realizing she was leaning in. Apparently she didn’t need you to say anything. The way you looked and smiled at her was enough.

It had started that way after all.

[danifesting]

A birthday present for my dear, beloved friend @nobrakesdown. Cove, I hope you have the wonderful birthday you deserve. Thanks for being my friend, writing buddy, sounding board and everything in between.

*****

Daniel's heat is late. First one week, then two, then three. At four weeks he starts to worry. He's usually like clockwork, has been since his first heat at 15, but now, not even a skin prickle at the back of his neck. He makes an appointment with his gynecologist and goes into the office more anxious than he'd like to admit.

The nurse gets him in the room and takes his temperature, a little high but not a fever. His blood pressure is high too.

"Ha, sorry," he says to the nurse, a pretty beta with long blonde hair. "Just a little anxious."

"That's okay. It's not uncommon and it's not in a danger zone or anything," she assures him. "Is there any chance you could be pregnant?"

Daniel hums. He's been on birth control a long time. "I doubt it."

"Well, either way, we have to have you take a pregnancy test." She hands him a cup. "Just pee in here and leave it on the counter next to the door. When you're done, undress from the waist down and press the button on the wall to let us know you're ready, okay?"

Daniel gives her a thumbs up and does as he's instructed. The wait for the doctor is agonizingly slow. He scrolls through Instagram on his phone but it doesn't do anything to speed up the passage of time. Eventually the doctor knocks.

"Come in," Daniel calls out and Dr. Bernard comes in.

"Well, Daniel," she says, sitting down on the stool next to the table. "I'm just going to start with this. Your pregnancy test came back positive."

"But…" Daniel says, starting to sweat.

"I know you're on birth control but have you missed any doses?" She asks kindly.

"No, never. I take it at the same time every day. I have a special alarm and everything."

"Have you been sick? Taken any antibiotics?"

"I had a sinus infection about a month ago and the doctor gave me something for it."

"Did he warn you that antibiotics can make birth control less effective and that you should use backup contraception until after your next heat?"

"Uh... He did not. Was he supposed to?" Daniel asks with raised eyebrows.

Dr. Bernard sighs. "They never tell people what they should. Well, I'm sorry if it's bad news, and we'll take a blood test to confirm just to be sure, but you're pregnant."

Daniel puts his face in his hands. Fuck, what is he going to do? What is he going to tell Max? They've really only just gotten together. Only a few very happy months and now Daniel's gone and ruined it.

Dr. Bernard pats Daniel on the knee. "I'll give you a moment and then we'll do your pelvic exam."

She steps out of the room and Daniel texts Max.

Daniel: are you busy today?

Max: just finished at the sim

Daniel: can you meet me at mine in like an hour?

Max: i'll be there

Daniel sighs and sets his phone down. They do the pelvic exam, take Daniel's blood, tell him they'll call him with the results tomorrow and to talk about next steps from there.

Max is already in his apartment when Daniel gets home, sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up when Daniel comes in and smiles, wide and happy but his face falls when he sees Daniel, turning to concern. Daniel kicks off his shoes and crosses the room.

"Hi Maxy," he says and collapses down onto the couch next to him. "I have some news."

"Good or bad?" Max asks, eyebrows drawing in.

"Um, I haven't really decided yet. Still kind of in shock about it." Daniel rubs a hand over his face. "I'm pregnant." He keeps his face hidden in his hands.

"Daniel," Max says, voice hushed. He pulls Daniel's hands away from his face.

Daniel gives him a wry smile. "Surprise? I'm so sorry. I know we didn't plan for it, but I think I'm keeping the baby," he says, which is a surprise to himself as he says but it's true. He is. Fuck, he's gonna be a dad.

"Daniel," Max says again and his face is broken open into a wide grin, eyes scrunched tight and happy. "This was, of course, not something we have talked about before but if you want this, I want this, yeah?"

"Really?" Daniel asks, feeling his eyes well with tears. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

"Of course, Daniel. Yes. I have always wanted children and…"

"But we've only been dating a few months."

Max laughs. "And I have been in love with you since I was 18. Let's have a baby Daniel."

"You and me, huh?" Daniel asks, matching Max's laughter.

"You and me," Max assures. "I'll be with you the whole way."

And now, now Daniel feels hopeful instead of the terror he felt sitting in that doctor's office listening to his test results. He won't be in this alone. He has Max by his side and maybe they can do this. Maybe it will be okay.

The blood test results come back positive the next morning. Max holds Daniel's hand as they listen to Dr. Bernard lay out their next steps, the ultrasound appointment he'll have next week, the email she'll send with pregnancy nutrition and prenatal vitamins, all of it, and instead of overwhelmed like he thought he'd be, Daniel feels happy, like this is the right choice, like he and Max are starting a life together along with the life inside him.

Max kisses him when the phone call is over. He puts his hand on Daniel's belly and kisses him again, and Daniel knows things are going to be alright, better than even. Things are going to be great.

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, I'm still thinking about these graphs, because there's something else that makes season 7 different (explanation on how I got these numbers here). They have a lot of screen time in 2a, but the first 4 episodes mess with the average. Under pressure, the earthquake and stuck are about establishing Buck and Eddie as a friendship. Under pressure alone is over 15 minutes of the almost an hour they have during that half of the season. Most of their earthquake arc scenes involve each other because they are establishing Eddie and their partnership, first in the job, then with Christopher. But then they slow down significantly after that, mostly giving them scenes where they are around each other not with each other, co-workers, except for dosed with madney, but that scene is about madney. And then they have the fountain scene, Shannon comes back and they take the back burner completely, so much they are barely together for 2b and the drop is very drastic in comparison. And they keep that trend from 3a to 6b. They have arcs where they interact a lot, and then they go to the back burner. This makes sense, there are other main characters, other things to focus on, they will just be co-workers in the backdrop of other people's arcs or have separate arcs. The difference with season 7 is the way that every episode has at least one moment to showcase how close they are. It's not just them standing on the frame together at a call adding to the numbers. Even 702, which has the least amount of screen time, has that playful "husband tap" and them justifying the situation to Hen with each other. They spend that scene reacting to each other. Every episode has at least one Moment ™️. Because if they were averaging out with such a high number but they had one or two episodes where they are interacting a lot and then nothing, I wouldn't say something changed in the way they are being handled. Like, 6b has an increase in their screentime, but they interact a LOT during 610-615 and then they barely do for the rest of the season. We feel the lack of buddie in 6a because most of their scenes they are just standing next to each other and we don't feel it as much when it comes to 5b because 5b gave us quality scenes with Buck's part on Eddie's breakdown. But episode one we had the whole partnership/co-parent thing, two we had the thing at the locker room, three we had them finishing each other sentences while moving around each other, four I don't even need to say lol, five also had a lot, with the crashing the date and the coming out scene and the gym, six we had the bachelor party, seven we had the Buckley-Diaz family scene, nine we had the kitchen scene, and ten had all that partnership again. Season 7 gave us quantity and quality. That's the thing that changed. This is why the way this number shoots up has to mean something.

[fadingdaggerr]

all bark, some bite - l.w.

pairing: larissa weems x gn!reader (no pronoun or name use for reader)

summary: parents’ weekend is a time of stress, especially when an addams is now a student, and her mother and the principal have a fun little history behind them

warnings: fully using morticia as a plot device (sorry tish baby i luv u), suggestive ending

note: i have no idea what happened to this fic

the closer parents’ weekend grew, the more antsy larissa became. she typically has gone over every little detail three, four, five times by now. every year she takes great consideration into everything, wanting the parents to see the nevermore in all her glory, down to having every knickknack in every common space dusted and polished to perfection. but this year felt different. the tension in her shoulders was tighter this year, her pacing more pointed, her sleep dwindling by the day, and if none of this was enough, the now eight rechecks of plans was starting to look a little crazy.

when the day arrived, she was somehow more tense than she had been for the last two weeks. usually once the day began, she had been confident and excited, but today, she fiddled with her wedding band nonstop, watching as parents arrived and greeted their children.

walking up beside her, i lean in so my voice only reached her, “everything looks great, baby, relax a little bit. the students look happy, the schedule’s fun, you look stunning as always, everything’s in order.”

“you have got to stay close by me at all times,” is all she says.

“as much as i would love that, i have to be in my classroom to answer parent questions for the first couple hours. but, i would love to sneak in a visit my favorite girl,” i smile to her, pressing my lips to her clothed shoulder, and i can see some tension reduce a little.

“i will be holding you to your word on that,” she grabs my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. i pull her hand to my own lips, returning the favor, not missing the way her eyes light up.

in their mini tours, many of my students brought their parents to my classroom. most got a full report of the class from their children, meaning i was just there to deliver pleasantries, admittedly spruce up the behavior of some students when parents asked, and accept compliments on my book collection.

tall floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the west-facing wall of my room, a rolling ladder allowing me to reach the very top shelves. the top shelves were reserved for only the greatest of my collection, the rare and beautiful ones. books the students enjoy were closer to their reach, the ladder being a no-go for any of them. i always kept books larissa loved at her own eye-level, she had yet to notice it was on purpose, so her little excitement was a special treat whenever she gazed at the shelf.

after two hours of meetings that ended with a lively conversation with eugene’s moms, i thought i would finally be able to retreat back to wherever larissa may be. as i started to head out the door when a familiar, dark presence blocked my path to the hall.

“hello, wednesd-”

“principal’s office, now.”

“i’m doing great, thank you so much for asking wednesday,” i say monotonously, “and why am i so kindly being summoned to the principal’s office?”

“i’m saving her, and by proxy, you, a headache,” and she leaves. a hefty dose of ‘no context’ from wednesday addams, no day is complete without it anymore.

i make my way to larissa’s office, knocking gently before peeking my head in, “riss?”

“darling, what are you doing here?” she asks as she moves from her desk and makes her way over to me, both hands grabbing mine, pulling me closer.

“wednesday addams. she sent me here to ‘save you and myself a headache,’ whatever that means,” i say with a shrug, placing a sweet kiss to her cheek.

“i hope we don’t find out,” her hands moving, arms wrap around my waist, my own going around her neck.

“me neither. a nice, headache free day sounds phenomenal,” i say while adjusting the chain of her necklace, “how has your day been, my angel?”

she lets out a deep breath, “probably about as interesting as yours so far, but i would say it’s much better now,” she finishes her sentence with a short kiss to my lips.

i hum in agreement, and just as i go to pull her back in, there’s a knock as the door. we jump apart before larissa calls for whoever knocked to enter. the door opens, and i see a woman, dressed in a long, black gown enter the room. she’s smiling with adoration at the shorter man next to her, love for the woman evident in his gaze.

larissa’s eyes widen as she freezes in place. this is what she had been dreading, morticia addams.

the woman looks back towards the room, “larissa!”

“morticia! lovely to see you.”

ah, the headache, i think to myself, just as she begins to approach me. wednesday looks more homicidal than usual, and i can’t help but share the feeling.

“why hello there, morticia addams,” she sticks her hand out for me to shake. before i can introduce myself, she speaks again shutting me down, “and this is gomez, my husband,” gomez grabs her hand, kissing up her arm, muttering terms of endearment in spanish, “and my son, pugsley.”

“well, it sure is certainly nice to meet all of you,” my smile is fake, but morticia doesn’t seem to notice the insincerity, so i continue, “wednesday is fantastic in my literature of the macabre class. she has been at top of my class since she started, which has not been unexpected.”

i almost feel as if i’m bragging about how well my own child is doing in class, and i can see as larissa smiles softly at my words.

“that is fantastic to hear, our little viper is a master of the macabre,” gomez praises his daughter, the action making wednesday scowl harder, but making me smile slightly.

the addams’ sat across from larissa, i stood to larissa’s right, offering her support with my presence. discussions of wednesday’s academics and extracurriculars continued for a little bit. i stayed quiet for most of it, happy to be with my wife, also hoping i could be a buffer between her and morticia. i had been filled in, well before we got married, about how cruel morticia was to larissa later in their academy years. i also stayed for wednesday, who wouldn’t admit that she needed someone else in her corner when her parents were around. all conversation came to sudden halt when morticia let out a gasp.

“how could i have not seen that? larissa, you never mentioned you had gotten married,” she grabs larissa’s left hand, pulling it close to look at her ring. a shudder moves down my back at the contact.

“it wasn’t relevant the last we spoke, and before that we hadn’t seen each other since we graduated, so why when would i have said anything?” larissa is calculated in her response, letting me know this interaction had been something of worry to her.

“goodness, when did this happen? must not have been long ago, or else i would’ve heard, i’m sure,” morticia responds, and i almost laugh at her certainty.

“it’s been seven years as of september, as a matter of fact. and we were together for five years before that. it was a very private ceremony, we only had our closest loved ones in attendance,” larissa answers as she pulls her hand back, looking at her ring with a soft smile, a light blush painting her cheeks at the memory. i bite my tongue to hide my own smile.

“private ceremony, private answers, not even a photo in here larissa,” morticia gestures around the office, and the anger in me grows slowly.

“with students, staff, faculty, parents, and even law enforcement regularly in my office, i would rather not have my personal life on display. what’s mine is private,” she says the last part lowly, a warning to morticia that she must tread lightly, but her tone ignites a fire in the pit of my stomach.

this warning is noted by a raised brow, but is violently ignored when she looks larissa in the eye with a pathetic frown and says, “please don’t tell me you settled?”

larissa’s face immediately grows dark, her hands flattening against her desk, she starts to rise out of her seat. to avoid a small war in the middle of the office, i take a step forward and speak in her place, “i believe ‘settling’ is more of a subjective concept,” my eye contact is sharp and unwavering, “in my opinion, she most definitely did settle, outrageously settled. but from her words, at the very least, i would say she does not share the same sentiment as i do,” the emphasis on ‘very’ has larissa’s head whipping my way at the innuendo, “some would say marrying your high school sweetheart is settling, but i’m not one to judge,” pugsley snorts, wednesday’s eyes shoot to him in a playful manor, clearly enjoying this just as much,“well, not one to judge often, as my mother used to say, ‘everyone has a taste, whether or not they should have be pickier is up to the heavens.’ quite the phrase, don’t ya think?”

morticia’s mouth shuts immediately, her eyes shooting to larissa’s to ask for help. she has nothing to offer her former roommate, other than holding back her own laughter.

“anyways, i should be on my way, poetry club meeting starts in 30 minutes, and i have to get the room set up for the parents,” i say with a smile towards the addams. “it was lovely letting you mister and missus addams, you too pugsley. i will see you in class next week, pretty please remind enid to read the chapter, do not give her the gist of it,” i point to wednesday as i speak, “and you,” i turn to larissa, “i will see you at home,” i kiss the top of her forehead to end my goodbye, my left hand on her shoulder, matching wedding band on display.

i pat her shoulder once more before walking towards the door, i turn to look at her, right as i’m about to close the door and blow her a kiss. she smiles softly and rolls her eyes at my antics.

“anything else you would like to discuss?”

— — — — —

my day, thankfully, ended after the poetry club meeting. a side road only a couple miles past the campus gates brought me to a dark green, two story house with brown trim. a wrap porch with vines growing up after years of free roaming, but neat from snipping and reshaping them when they got unruly. this wasn’t just some house, it was the home larissa and i now shared.

getting home, my shoes slid off before i even unlocked the door. keys were on the hook, bag on the seat by the door, jacket on the peg, shoes thrown on the floor. i make my way go our bedroom, purposefully going to her closet for a sweatshirt, grabbing a light grey one, and a pair of my own sleep shorts from my top drawer.

larissa comes home silently while i was a focusing on not burning the vegetables in the pan. she follows a similar pattern to me, only neater and quieter. i don’t notice her presence until i’m adding the vegetables to the sauce, and two long, pale arms wrap around my middle. i continue my task with her draped around me, stirring the vegetables in, spinning the spice rack in search of oregano and red pepper flakes.

“you are trouble” i laugh at her opening line, “at the very least, huh?”

“children were present, and in my defense, those particular ones have definitely heard much worse from those horn-dogs,” i say like it’s nothing, making her laugh this time. “and you’re one to talk. ‘what’s mine is private’? good lord, riss,” i jokingly fan my face, and she laughs harder.

“i stand by my statements,” she pinches my side, “especially the one where i disagree with you on me settling. i don’t settle, if i wanted to i could’ve long ago, but i waited for the right person and found you,” she whispers the end into my ear.

“and look at you now, with a much better last name,” i add the noodles to the sauce, “could’ve been missus larissa antoinette weems-fru- LARISSA!” i squeak as a hand smacks against my ass, laughing immediately.

“don’t even start, gods you even brought the middle name into it,” she laughs with me, her head resting against my shoulder.

i pick up a sauce-drenched noodle on a spoon, raising it to her lips, she gladly takes the bite, groaning happily at the taste. biting back a comment about the noise, i start to prepare dishes to serve on. larissa stays glued to my back, following each of my steps around our kitchen.

“i may need you around for more parent-principal meetings, especially ones involving… particularly difficult cases,” larissa says into my neck, avoiding the use of morticia’s name, as if it would summon her if spoken.

“you name the time and place, i’ll happily be wherever you need me. i can be like your guard dog,” i laugh a little at the notion.

“perhaps a ‘beware of dog’ sign outside my office may be needed,” she jests as she pulls away to set the table.

with dinner finished, and a bottle of wine later, larissa and i lay on the couch together, my fingers weaving through her hair as her head rested on my chest, her hands wandering every now and then from my abdomen, down my legs, and back up. i scratched my fingertips against her scalp, a noise just short of a purr comes from the back of her throat. we stay in this silence for a while, relaxing from the day, knowing tomorrow still had a slim chance to be incident free. loving her and being loved by her was all there was at this moment.

her head raises from my chest, i also pout at the loss of the comforting weight against my chest. tired, larimar eyes find mine, and i feel my heart skip a beat, her beauty has never failed to surprise me. someone like her, someone this beautiful, chose me.

she stares a little longer before sweetly saying, “you’d make a horrible guard dog,” and my jaw drops slightly, i’m utterly gobsmacked. i had been expecting a loving comment, or even a lustful one, not whatever this was.

i look at her for another moment before gathering my thoughts. i piece together the only thing that feels right to say at a time like this, “what the fuck?”

“you’re awfully cute, darling. i don’t think they’d find you scary,” she leans down to kiss the middle of my chest through my (her) sweatshirt, then looking back up at me. she made a point, i was not nearly as intimidating up front as she was.

larissa was intimidating just to look at. she’s gorgeous, tall, and clearly professional. she could talk her way out of anything, and just as easily talk her way in, just with her wit. all of this, this perfectly sculpted image, could be brought down by a little beetle crawling on the wall. a beetle i would be called in to crush, but instead would end up being guided onto a paper towel and released back into nature.

“well, they’d be mistaken then. and apparently so are you. you’d think my own wife would know me better,” i scoff, but the smile on my face betrays the feigned attitude. she laughs, and smile grows wider and wider. “i’ll let this insult on my character slide, only because of the wine, and definitely not because i love you so much,” i continue, and she groans playfully.

she puts her head back down on my chest, arms giving me a squeeze, “i love you more, and seriously though, thank you for being there today. and just so you know, for the rest of this weekend, you are not leaving my side.”

i chuckle, “as if i could even dream of it,” wrapping my arms around her snugly, “you know stuck with me forever, you’re the one who put a ring on it,” i pepper the top of her head in kisses as she tries not to laugh.

her head nudges up, she buries herself in my neck. i hide my own face in her soft hair, inhaling her scent. i feel her lips pressing along the column of my throat, moving upwards. little nips marked the trail to my jaw, kisses as she moves to the side more. one final tug of my earlobe by her teeth brings me back to full attention. her voice lowers, “how about i show you at the very most how much i love you?”

bit of a longer fic to make up for the lack of them in the last week. feedback is, as usual, appreciated greatly :)

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

Waiting for my telemed appointment. An appointment that was at 10:23am...and it's now 11:22am. Nurse called at 10:30am to go over everything and told me I'll receive a link for the appointment. It's been nearly an hour.

I had a shorter wait as a walk-in at the clinic.

Why not do a walk-in today? I went to urgent care on Monday for this issue (suspect UTI), then they sent me to the ER, and the ER told me to go to a gynocologist because it may be a yeast infection. Saw her on Wednesday. She wasn't sure, but gave me medicine for it because it might be. Took the medicine yesterday (Friday), and today my bladder feels like it's going to explode. Urine has been cloudy all morning, if I can manage to pee seeing as I'm going every five minutes. It feels like liquid fire!

I told the nurse the last time I had a UTI, it kept coming up negative in the urine sample. The doctor who treated me sent me home with a cup to collect a sample first thing in the morning. Lo and behold, it came up positive!

I'm in pain. My bladder will not shut up or calm down. Even after using the toilet, it still burns. Maybe I have both infections? I wouldn't be surprised if that's the case.

Now I need the fucking doctor to send me a link for this appointment. I need antibiotics before this moves up into my kidneys. That's what happened to my mom. She was asymptomatic, then she just...collapsed and had to remain in the hospital for over a week because the UTI had turned into a kidney infection.

And as of now, it's 11:31am.

UPDATE!

The reason the doctor was late is due to their telemed system being a brat. She called me directly, told me she 100% believe me because everything I'm describing is exactly what a UTI is, and she has the same problem with it being detected. I've got a prescription waiting to be picked up, and the medicine covers nearly every bacteria that causes UTI. She also told me the number of UTIs has shot up in the last three weeks because when stress is high, it can lead to a UTI. Recent events are definitely the cause.

Oh, and she said the fluconazole will prevent the yeast infection the antibiotic may cause, so it's a good thing I have it in my system now. I always develop a yeast infection when I use antibiotics. I'm also to drink lots and lots and lots of water, and herbal tea is also something she suggested. I take a cranberry supplement everyday, as suggested by the doctor who treated me for kidney stones twice in the same year (mine are made almost entirely of salt, which is why my diet is extremely low in sodium). Cranberry juice makes my mouth feel weird, but I'm not allergic to it. I just don't like the weird feeling.

My pharmacy is open on Saturdays, which is a fucking relief because I've been dealing with these symptoms since Friday of last week.

UPDATE 2

Four pots of herbal tea and two doses of the antibiotic have already brought relief. It doesn't feel like I'm passing molten lava, though it stinks all to hell and then some when I do urinate. Still cloudy too.

I'm feeling better though! Another nine days of the medication, and this infection will be gone. Hmmm...I may run out of a few teas between now and then.

[bomberqueen17]

adderall update

it's not doing shit. i have been faithfully taking it for three weeks. it is no easier to initiate tasks, switch tasks, choose which tasks to perform. i have no executive function to speak of. i have been trying to make to-do lists, i have been doing my absolute best to self-motivate, and i am accomplishing nothing. i am spending hours dithering over things. every time i go to look at my phone i get stuck scrolling something else. i am making no progress on any of my life goals and anything i achieve is clawed out of nothingness with great effort. it is ridiculous.

also i can feel it wear off around 1pm and then i'm drowsy as fuck for most of the afternoon.

it cost me $210 for the three-minute telehealth appointment where the psych said "try it for two more weeks" and then didn't schedule me a follow-up appointment, so. IDK where we go from here. I'll run out of pills in ten days but I don't even know if i'll bother taking them. Maybe I should try taking two one of those days and see if it's just that I'm on such a low dose. IDK.

Anyway: there's the upshot. It's doing jack fucking shit for me except making it so I need to drink like four liters of water in a day or have a 20-hour headache.

[emhm]

How are you doing? I feel kinda weird asking for a life update but I'm curious how you've been. I love all the dolls you're make. I think KC is currently my favorite. And are you gonna do anything special for your 100th chapter?

I didn't want to answer this until I was back home and on my PC, [I REALLY hate typing long messages on my phone.] As far as the chapter- I don't hold things back for certain numbers. Or I would have teased Sun and Eclipse's first actual sex together until the 100th chapter. Thank you for that. I'm already planning four more dolls. They're really fun to make. Everything else... it's complicated. I've already dosed the cats for fleas twice in the last 30 days and it's supposed to last a month. The Frontline Gold is barely keeping them flea free for two weeks and it's insanely frustrating. The only way to get them better meds entails a vet visit for the 3/4 cats that aren't current anywhere. I still have a lot of cleaning to do because I'm only home/awake two days of the week and I still have to cook for the rest of the weeks lunches on those days. This is my problem and I am working on it. My partner basically does the same job as me but for a different client because our work is contracted out by a parent company. Her previous contract ended and took her from 40hrs a week down to 24. And that's the biggest reason that I've been having to beg via Ko-fi just to pay the normal household bills. I already work 40hrs a week and they won't give me any more. We also share a car so that limits what she can do. I heard offhand that the client I work for wanted 10hr shifts for my position instead of 8 but didn't get it for some reason. And I'm the only one on the site, so it was likely to avoid paying me overtime. So what I've done is arrange for my partner to take one of my weekday shifts. This doesn't make us any less fucked on the bills, but it means that if the client pushes for longer hours then I can bump back up to 40 and she'll have the extra day they wouldn't give me. Plus it means I get three days off to do shit at home instead of just two. We have the money to get Lucky fixed [thanks guys!] but we can't seem to score an appointment to get it done. It's a low cost thing and it's first come first serve. We'll keep calling. The dealership offered us a better deal on getting the breaks repaired then the tire place we were going to use. But it was sight unseen. They owe us a free oil change anyway. The appointment to have that done is tomorrow. I also have money set aside for that. [You guys are freaking amazing.] I won't touch any of it until the breaks are done and then I'll know if there's anything left to put towards bills or buy some wood for winter. Because we're already not getting what we need for hours I have to assume the worst [that there will be nothing left] and the every other month electric bill is this month. Fortunately we're only had the AC running maybe four days since it got hot. Point is that I was short several thousand dollars last month. This month will probably be more like $600 short at the worst. Personally. I'm just... here. Doing my thing. I'm really hoping to see some people attempt to follow the patterns I put up. I actually love teaching people to make things and I'm happy to answer questions. Thank you for asking. :) https://ko-fi.com/followmeontumblr

[clarepreed]

Fade Part Five: Fated End

Story Content and Summary - 9,243 words. On a visit to meet Deirdre's family, someone from her past attempts to take matters into their own hands, potentially extinguishing her light forever. Torsades de Pointes, on-site resuscitation by both humans and fae.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

--

“Where are we going?” Archer laughed, eyeing the washed-out dirt road they’d just turned down. “And I’m glad I’m driving; would your hatchback make it down this road?”

“I’m pleased that neither of you asked me to drive my car,” Asa said from the back. “And Fae wishes that we were not in the car at all.”

Deirdre turned to look at the carrier buckled into the empty seat next to Asa. A quiet mew found her ears, and she saw Fae move restlessly behind the mesh of the carrier. “Oh, poor little one. Would you get her out for me, Asa? I’ll hold her.”

A moment later, his long arms reached between the front seats, Fae’s furry gray body caught gently in his hands. Deirdre scooped the kitten from him and brought her against her chest, cooing soothing words into her ear. A few seconds later, Fae started purring, evidently no longer concerned by the harsh rocking of the SUV.

“This road is not maintained on purpose,” Deirdre explained. “There’s another road on the other side of the mountain, with a guardhouse. It adds over two hours to the trip. This is a service road with a gate about halfway down. I will get us in. The road is like this to discourage visitors.”

“Doesn’t deter four-wheelers, it looks like,” Archer noted, his eyes on the road.

“No.” Deirdre laughed. “That’s what the gate is for. Not much has changed… when I left, human teenagers were passing the ‘No Trespassing’ signs with great regularity. Of course, you must remember; we do want some interaction between fae and humans.”

Archer glanced over at her and smiled. His warm eyes held contentment and his posture seemed relaxed despite the rough road.

“So…” Asa spoke from the back, his tone droll. “Forgive me, but could you explain again why your kind wants some of us to know about you? Aside from the part where you fell in love with my brother and fished him out of the lake.”

“Our magic, ánh, is dependent on humans believing magic or fae exist. It’s why we often provide financial backing to publishers of fantasy novels and movies.” Deirdre sighed and scratched Fae between the ears. “Of course, some creators have turned out to be not worth the effort.”

“She’s talking about wizards,” Archer interjected for Asa’s benefit.

“Didn’t that get an entire wing of an amusement park?” Asa asked.

“Yes, but the author has a heavy dose of the human obsession with all of you being the same. Fae don’t limit other fae’s gender identity or expression. Or lack thereof.” Deirdre turned to look back at Asa. “I am appreciative that you two are not so rigid.”

“You can thank our parents,” Archer clarified, his voice soft as he kept his eyes trained on the rough dirt road. “They raised us to believe that differences are beautiful.”

“Our mother was half Egyptian,” Asa continued. “She experienced racism growing up. And our father was Catholic in a Protestant town. They were strong people who chose to be open-minded when they had every reason to be angry and suspicious of others.”

“I wish I could have met them,” Deirdre murmured, her eyes on Archer’s profile.

“They would have liked you,” Asa assured her. “You could have flown in front of them. Dad would have crossed himself and then asked if you were an angel. Honestly, it was the first thing I thought, and I haven’t been to Mass in… twenty years.”

The SUV slowed, and Deirdre turned to hide her blush and spotted the imposing panel that cleaved the road in two.

“We found the gate.” Archer sounded bemused.

“That looks like a wall,” Asa corrected. “A gate is something which can be moved.”

“I can move it,” Deirdre announced, turning again to Asa. “Will you hold Fae while I take care of the gate? Archer will need to drive through and then I’ll close it again.”

She deposited Fae into Asa’s outstretched hands. The kitten stretched her limbs, wiggling and squeaking her displeasure until Asa sat her on his lap and rubbed her ears.

“Okay, you’re opening it and I’m driving through and you’ll close it behind us?” Archer asked. He eyed her with something like awe. “Don’t, uh, pull a muscle.”

She blew him a kiss as he slowed the SUV to a stop, then slid down out of the vehicle, glad she’d dressed for the occasion in leggings and deck shoes. The packed dirt under her feet felt soft in spots, speaking to recent rain. Picking her way carefully through the ruts, Deirdre walked to the sheet of steel and touched it with the palms of her hands. “Pe’erta!”

Light pulsated from her chest and ran down her arms, sinking into the cold metal. She heard the rending shriek of metal on metal and the gate shuddered, sliding to the right on a dirty track. Should have taken the extra time to go around, she thought, her arms shaking and sweat sprinting out over her body as she walked along with the gate. The mechanism fed off of the magic of the town hidden in the forest or she wouldn’t have been able to open it at all. Still, by the time she got the gate open enough for Archer to drive through, she leaned on the gate, winded and shaking.

Deidre heard an SUV door open, and Archer came around the back end. He shoved his hands in his pockets, stopping just in front of her.

“Is there anything I can do to help with that, love?” His posture and face bled concern, taking in her wilted appearance and no doubt feeling her struggle through their bond.

“It is too heavy for even brute strength,” Deirdre stated, wiping her brow on her sleeve. “No offense meant.”

“Oddly enough, I was not offended.” Archer grinned, though she could tell he was still worried. He walked up to her and gently took her arm in hand. “If we left it open, could someone come back and close it behind us? Asa was in there muttering about your heart, and I can feel how much of an effort that was for you. You’re shaking.”

Deirdre dropped her hands from the gate. “I could call someone. Tell them I cannot close it.” Dread settled heavy in her chest. She did not want to tell her family and friends that she could not perform this task. That she was too weak to do so.

“Incoming!” Asa called from within the SUV.

Deirdre looked up. Sure enough, a figure moved in the distance. A fae man, wings pumping powerfully as he flew toward him.

“Looks like someone is coming to help,” Archer said, relieved. 

The fae man drew closer, and Deirdre noticed his hair: long, golden, and unrestrained. A sinking suspicion made her reach for Archer’s hand, gripping it tight.

“What is it?” he asked her, concern replacing his relief. “Or, who is it?”

“Atmos.” Deirdre curled her free hand around the end of the gate until her fingers turned white. “My ex.”

*** Archer held on to Deirdre’s hand and considered the approaching man. Whatever Asa’s descriptions of Deirdre in flight were, this was the avenging angel. Cut straight from the hyperbolic artwork of White Christianity, the man’s face was a study of haughty contempt as he landed, gracefully barefoot, taking in Archer’s SUV, then his person, then his hand around Deirdre’s.

The sculpted pink lips twisted. Then he looked at Deirdre and his features relaxed, longing flaring in his blue eyes before that, too, faded. 

“Atmos,” Deirdre almost drawled, and Archer’s brow twitched. 

Atmos’s mouth pulled into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, exposing white teeth as he folded his wings and stalked toward them. Archer saw the rear passenger door of his SUV pop open, and Asa climbed out, his eyebrows lifted. Tall and broad through the shoulders, Atmos stood in front of them—too close, Archer thought—seeming to attempt to both intimidate Archer and disarm Deirdre, all while accomplishing neither.

Everyone fell silent. Then the man’s face paled and twisted into a dark scowl, and Archer had his first actual misgivings. 

“Deirdre? Ánrhen mit antó?” Atmos’ shock and meaning were clear, even if only half of the words were familiar. 

“Archer, this is Atmos Thoniel Deu O’r Perëndierdők Noordttang. Atmos, meet my bonded mate, Archer James Neal.” Deirdre stared up at the fae man, a challenge in her light eyes. “Behind you is Archer’s brother, Dr. Asa Neal.”

“Oo expothan se yitabib?” Atmos stared at her, his throat working.

“Asa is a cardiologist.”

Atmos’s head jerked back, and Archer felt Deirdre’s discomfort like something he could taste. He squeezed her hand, then cleared his throat to get the fae man’s attention. “So sorry to interrupt. Atmos, it’s nice to meet you. Would you do us a favor and close the gate behind us? I’m sure you’re aware that I can’t.”

The other man, looking as though he sucked on a lemon, gave a curt nod before looking down at Deirdre. His face relaxed again and his voice gentled. “Deirdre, if you had called, I would have come and opened the gate for you. You shouldn’t exert yourself. I’m surprised your human doesn’t know that.”

“Let’s get in the car, Archer,” Deirdre said, before Archer could open his mouth. “Asa. Fae is in her carrier? Atmos can see to the gate.”

Atmos reached out and put his hand on her arm, stilling her. “Fly back with me. How often do you get to—”

“I am tired, Atmos. But thank you for the offer.” Deirdre shrugged her arm free, and Archer walked with her to meet Asa.

“She’s in the carrier,” Asa said. “Do we need to be concerned about—”

“No.” Deirdre shook her head. “Let’s go. Atmos has the gate.”

Archer handed Deirdre up into the SUV and closed the passenger door. As he walked around to the other side, he felt the fae man watching him. He climbed into his vehicle and closed the door, and Deirdre heaved a sigh.

“Atmos is an aggressive, selfish prig.” Her blunt words, so different from her usual demeanor, made Asa snort. 

“Seems like it,” Asa said. Archer started the ignition and popped the emergency brake. In the rearview mirror, he watched Atmos shed golden light as he slid the gate closed.

“Is he going to cause problems?” Archer asked, darting his eyes to Deirdre. She seemed to have recovered, but he couldn’t help but be concerned.

Deirdre sat in silence for a long while until she said, quietly: “I don’t know.”

*** “This is my parents’ home,” Deirdre spoke softly as Archer parked the SUV away from the house, beside a small detached garage. Then she fell silent, her fingers plucking at her seatbelt. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

She couldn’t have said which man spoke, but they were right. Large, built from stone and wood, covered in trailing ivy and surrounded by tall trees. So many trees that the property lay in deep shadow. Her parents’ home looked like a castle and a fairytale cottage combined. She also recalled the series of smaller cottage homes scattered throughout the forest behind their home. One of them had been hers for decades.

“How is it that this entire area is pixelated on Google Maps?” Asa wondered.

“It’s all about who you know.” Deirdre unbuckled the seatbelt and reached for the door. Archer’s hand came over and found hers.

“It will be alright, love.”

Dierdre nodded, afraid to look at him lest she cry. She could feel the telltale tightness in her eyes and upper lip. Opening her mouth to speak, she realized her throat was thick with emotion.

“Take a deep breath, Deirdre.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the catch of her tense muscles as she did so. She released the breath and drew another, her lungs expanding further as the tension released incrementally. A third breath, and she opened her eyes, her fingers relaxing their unknown white-knuckle grip on Archer’s hand.

“It wouldn’t do to have an attack in the car before I manage to see them,” she quipped weakly, her voice shaky.

The front door opened, and light spilled out onto the front walk. A tall woman in long skirts stepped out onto the path, peering out at the SUV. She turned and motioned toward the house, and an equally tall man stepped out behind her.

“They’re eager to see you, Deirdre.” Archer squeezed her hand, then released it. “Go. We’ll be right behind you.”

“I’ve got Fae in her carrier,” Asa said from the back seat.

Deirdre opened the door and slid down, the ground soft where she landed. She closed the door behind her and walked slowly through the leaves, her eyes on the dear, familiar forms of her parents. She felt tenuously tied to her body, watching in surprise as her parents met her halfway.

“Deirdre…” Her mother’s smooth, beloved face suddenly crumpled, but it was her father who reached out, pulling her the last few feet and folding her into a hug. Then he shifted, adding her mother into the circle of his arms. “Oo ti’ahi!” Youcame!

“Oo wilde ni? Ky’ issem?” You wanted me? As I am?

“Ĉia, anak.” Always, daughter.

Deirdre’s tears spilled over, soaking her father’s shirt. He kissed the top of her head, just as he’d done when she was young.

“Who are these human men, Deirdre?” her father asked, switching to English.

She pulled back, eager to introduce them, but her mother beat her to it.

“That one is Deirdre’s ánrhen, Liam. Can you not see it? And this must be his brother; I can see it in their faces.” Her mother dashed tears from her eyes, then reached over and did the same for Deirdre. “Alright, daughter. Please, introduce us.”

Her father rubbed her back and released her, and she reached for Archer, pulling him close. “Am’an, Ap’an, this is Archer James Neal, my ánrhen, and this is his brother, Dr. Asa Neal. Archer and Asa, these are my parents, Tvaris and Liam. I will teach you their full names later, I promise.”

Archer and Asa shook hands with her parents, twin charming grins on their faces. “Sir, ma’am. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“Please,” her mother said. “Call us Tvaris and Liam. You are family, both of you. And please, come inside. You may leave your shoes just inside the door. And please, bring in the creature, too. Who have you brought, Deirdre?”

“That’s Fae, Am’an. My kitten.”

Her parents escorted them to the door, gesturing for them to enter. Deirdre found Archer’s hand again and looked up at him. A genuine smile lit his face, and her chest filled with warmth. “I’m glad you are here,” she whispered.

“So am I. I’m even happier that things seem to be going well.” Archer squeezed her hand.

“And I’m glad you’re here, Asa. I’m glad that my family can meet Archer’s.”

Asa smiled at her before he set Fae’s carrier down and bent to untie his shoes.

“Here comes Foraoise and her family,” her mother said, continuing to speak in English for Archer and Asa’s benefit. They watched Deirdre’s aunt, uncle, and cousins land near Archer’s SUV. Unlike Deirdre’s own mother, Foraoise had several children, ranging from a few years younger than Deirdre down to a toddler clutched gently in her father’s arms. “She’s been eager to have you visit, Deirdre.”

Deirdre stooped to rescue Fae from the carrier, holding the kitten close as she curiously sniffed the air. “She came to see me at my store, Am’an. I… regret that it was tense.” 

Her mother ushered everyone into the open-plan living space, filled with plants and sofas, chairs, stools and other places to sit, many of which were backless. She led Archer to a loveseat and sat Fae on her lap, intending to allow the kitten to explore. Fae crouched there, her tail swishing as she watched unfamiliar people enter the house and move about the room. Asa sat on a stool close by, resting his ankle on the opposing knee. 

As she sat there on the sofa, watching her mother and Foraoise embrace each other and the children spill into the space, ignoring their father’s warning to watch their wings, Deirdre felt a fluttering sensation in her chest. Her next inhalation hitched. Archer turned to her, his lips close to her ear. “Are you okay?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Archer ran his knuckles up and down her arm in a soothing gesture. Another slow breath, reminding herself that this was her family, and they loved her. Static sparked behind her closed eyes. 

“A little overwhelmed, I think,” Archer said, in response to a question she hadn’t heard.

“Böcē!” Foraoise called out to her children. “Oo hawadyra! Hawadyra!”

“Neko!” A tiny someone had spotted Fae. Deirdre opened her eyes, expecting to see the toddler run her way. Her fingers curled protectively around Fae’s soft body.

“Deirdre o kwaneko. Oo hawadyra, Yuima!” Foraoise’s chosen mate called out, reigning in the little girl and directing her outside with a firm grip on her tiny hand. Deirdre watched them regretfully as this unfamiliar cousin toddled back out the front door.

Asa caught her eyes as she sagged against the sofa. One of his dark eyebrows arched and he leaned forward, hands opening in a silent question. Deirdre leaned forward again and Archer immediately started rubbing her back in slow, discreet movements. Sighing, she extended her wrist to Asa, bracing herself against the questions and concern of her family. His fingers touched her gently, finding the place where her pulse fluttered. As Asa counted heartbeats, Deirdre closed her eyes again, giving in to the slow, deep rhythm of her breath.

“Oo mit parigia,” she heard her father say, his voice pitched low. “You are with family.”

Á tereciùin, she thought to herself. Be calm.

Another moment passed, and Asa gave her back her wrist. “Fast, but you’ll do. We should all talk about calm, happy things, I think.”

Archer kissed her temple, and she opened her eyes. Her parents and Foraoise sat on cushions on the floor, gentle concern stamped on their faces. She was relieved that no one looked terrified or upset.

Did I make something out of nothing all these years?

“Would anyone like herbal tea?” her mother asked. “Tisane, rather?”

“Do you still… Do you have blackberry—”

“I do!” her mother said, rising. Her face flushed pink, and she offered Deirdre a gentle smile. Her eyes glistened. “I always k-keep it for you, Deirdre.”

*** Early the next morning, Archer leaned against a doorframe and pulled socks onto his cold feet.

 “No shoes,” Deirdre whispered. “There is moss.”

“Warm moss?” Archer asked, rubbing his eyes. He winked at her, softening his complaint before he regretfully stripped off his socks.

“Come!” Deirdre stood in the doorway of the little cottage she’d called home years ago, the early morning light soft as it dropped in around her. She offered him a wide, beaming smile and extended a hand. “Quick, before Fae decides to join us and we spend our morning trying to catch her!”

“Alright!” Archer hurried after her, her enthusiasm igniting a smile on his own face. “Where are we going?”

“The meadow!” Deirdre tugged on his hand and then released it, hurrying down the path ahead of him. She wore an unfamiliar, ankle-length dress in deep blue, with a low back and bishop sleeves. Archer jogged after her, surprised at her pace as she darted through the trees.

Before long, the trees grew sparse, and the moss crept artificially onward, spreading into a large open meadow before being gradually replaced by tall grass. Deirdre slowed to a stop, her back flexing and her wings erupting from her shoulder blades. His breath caught as they unfurled and she shook them out, stretching them to their full span. She spun toward him and beat her wings; the wind stirring his hair until she lifted off, hovering a couple of feet above the ground. 

“It is safe here,” she said, as he took a few more steps toward her, reaching for her hands. She let him catch her, tipping forward until their lips met. He inhaled through his nose, the crisp outdoor scent melding with her familiar herbal aroma. Her lips were soft and warm against his. 

With a giggle, Deirdre broke free, wings pumping and carrying her higher. The morning light bathed her as she tipped her head toward the sun. She hovered there for a moment before she let her wings flutter and dropped gently to the ground.

“How does it feel?” Archer asked, his fingertips grazing the fringes of one of her gossamer limbs. They felt like insect wings, only stronger; smooth on the edge, slightly textured on the surface. 

“Like stretching out a mild cramp that I’ve had for months,” she confessed, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her head gently from side to side. “And then, once I’m over that, freeing.”

He moved his fingers to the line of her jaw, tracing her soft skin. “I wish you were free to fly all the time, love. Perhaps… If you wanted to come here—”

A zzzt sound distracted him, followed by the quietest thump. Deirdre grunted, then staggered, and he reached out, catching her by the waist as an odd, distant pain lanced through his shoulder. When he looked down, however, he couldn’t see anything wrong. No blood on his shirt, nothing to account for the pain.

“Oh.” Her voice, barely audible. He looked at her, then followed her gaze to her left shoulder, where a fat dart protruded from her exposed skin. She blinked and looked up at the sky, her brow furrowed. “Atmos?”

“Deirdre!” Archer’s hand hovered over the dart, shock making them both dull-witted and slow. Deirdre blinked again and brought her right hand up to wrap around the shaft. She jerked it free, swaying. Archer gasped. “Damn, I don’t think you should have—”

“We need to get to cover,” Deirdre muttered. Her wings folded and folded again, disappearing behind her back. She shook her head, hard, then grabbed his arm. “Archer! We need to get back beneath the trees!”

Archer grasped her by the elbow and turned, breaking into a jog and propelling her in front of him. Her hair whipped in a sudden strong breeze.

“ATMOS!” Her voice sounded different; an amplified roar that he wouldn’t have known it was possible for her to make. “WHAT WAS THAT? INDUV’E OO?”

Silence, but for their harsh breathing. Deirdre slowed as they entered the treeline, her eyes trained up and the dart still clutched in her fist. Archer stepped close behind her, trying to shield her smaller body with his as he, too, scanned the trees for white wings and golden hair. He pitched his voice low. “How do you know it was him?”

“He makes them,” she whispered. Her head bent and she brought the dart up for inspection. His eyes followed the delicate lines of metal, glass, and feathers.

“Deirdre,” Archer said, his concern tightening into fear. “That is a syringe.”

The syringe dart was beautiful, considering what it was. He would have expected something plastic with garish fletching, but this looked like a steampunk contraption from a cosplayer’s dream. Deirdre’s fingers curled tight around the barrel.

“I don’t know what was in it,” she whispered. Her hand trembled.

“We need to get you to Asa,” Archer urged, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Uneasiness swept over him like a wave. “How do you feel? Deirdre?”

“I…” Deirdre’s hand opened, and the dart fell silently to the moss. Archer felt dizzy, then shook his head and realized it was Deirdre whose equilibrium was failing. She wrenched her head back and gasped: “Atmos! What have you done?! Archer, Archer…”

He turned her gently so he could see her face. She’d gone pale, her eyes unfocused. Her breath came in rapid gasps. He could almost feel her shortness of breath, her discomfort, as pain cut through his own chest. “I’m going to carry you back. Just take deep breaths for me, love.”

“Archer…” Deirdre swayed and her palms pressed to the center of her chest. Her voice dropped in volume, raspy and thin. “My chest hurts… I’m… Archer. He’s killed me.”

Her legs folded.

“Christ,” Archer snarled, bending to gather her in his arms. “I’ve got you. I’ll get you help!”

Instead of responding, her body went limp in his arms. Archer started running, trying to stay on the mossy path as he shuffled her in his arms and looked at her face.

“Deirdre? Deirdre!” Her head lolled over his arm, her lips white. Internal klaxons shrieked, and he gasped for air as he ran, wincing as her head bounced. Instinct pricked his scalp and his eyes shot toward the canopy. Atmos hovered flew above, dressed in white linen and trailing motes of gold. “YOU!”

The fae man dove, avoiding a tree branch and then coming alongside Archer. Archer gnashed his teeth, unable to do anything with Deirdre cradled against him. To his surprise, Atmos wept, a trail glistening down his sculpted cheek.

“She has you,” the other man said. “You have to understand; she will survive the surgery now.”

“There won’t be any surgery!” Archer exploded. Atmos’s face pulled into a sneer, but Archer continued. “She needs help, Atmos! Get help! She thinks she’s dying! What was in that syringe?!”

Archer stumbled over a tree root, his arms tightening reflexively on Deirdre. Atmos reached out to steady him, releasing his shoulder before Archer could think to shrug him off. “Amiodarone.”

Asa will know what that is.

“GET HELP!” Pain arced again across his chest. In his arms, Deirdre shifted and took a rattling breath. He slowed to a stop, tipping her so that her face fell back into view. Her eyes were open to slits, only the whites showing. She moved again, the muscles in her legs tensing and her lips parting. Her arms jerked. Archer couldn’t breathe. His lungs wouldn’t move, and black spots drifted across his vision. He couldn’t—

Archer dragged in a lungful of air, his chest heaving. He looked about for Atmos, but the other man was gone. “ASA! HELP!” His scream cracked his voice and sank into the silence of the forest. Archer kneeled with Deirdre, stretching her out on the moss, his hand carefully lowering her head to the ground. The delicate skin of her eyelids and lips had taken on a blue cast.

His fingertips skimmed across that purple skin. “No…” Archer smoothed her hair back and tipped up her chin, leaning close to her lips. She felt distant again, absent despite her body stretched out before him. He relied on that even more than Asa’s previous descriptions of agonal breathing and movements. This time, when he held his ear close to her lips, he could tell she’d stopped breathing.

Anguish made his movements jerky. He snapped up, hands shaking. Deirdre already looked dead; still in a way only the dead were still, her face discolored, body awkwardly positioned on the moss. A panicky sob erupted from his mouth as he patted his pockets, belatedly looking for the cell phone he hadn’t brought with him. Then he gasped and clasped his hands together, interlocking his fingers and pressing them between Deirdre’s breasts without remembering to landmark. 

“Please, Deirdre… One!” He pushed down hard, remembering the plastic click of the dummy in Asa’s office. This was not that. This was using his strength on someone he would have never otherwise even bruised voluntarily. His weight in his arms bent her ribcage, forcing her sternum down into her faulty organ, the only part of her he could ever regret. She made a noise, a huffing gurgle that cut through the silence, but he kept going, bobbing over her slight form as his head swam and his eyes blurred with unshed tears. “…nine, ten! ASA! TWO, three, four, five…”

Beneath his hands, her body twitched, shoulders shrugging and her bare feet rocking side to side. Her legs drew up slightly, and her jaw worked, the blue of her eyes briefly visible in the corners before the slits showed only white again. “Uh… uh… uh… uh…”

“…two, three fourfive…” Too fast. He made himself slow down and concentrate. Since he’d met her, he’d reviewed CPR guidelines. Two inches. He’d reviewed them, though if he were telling himself the truth he hadn’t pictured himself actually here, in this forest, beating her heart. “ASA! HELP! PLEASE! No… Ah, one, two, three…”

“ARCHER!” His brother, shouting from just down the path.

“HERE! WE’RE HERE!” Archer’s voice broke, and a tear dropped onto his hands. He kept his hands at their vital task, pumping and pumping, his desperation a dangerous distraction. He looked around wildly, hoping to spot his brother. Then his gaze jerked back down to Deirdre’s darkening face. 

Asa’s heavy breathing and muffled footfalls made Archer lift his head again. His brother sprinted down the path, carrying the medical bag and AED they’d brought with them just in case. “I’m here! I’m here, Archer! Don’t stop! Tell me what happened.” Asa dropped to his knees across from Archer and quickly unzipped his bag.

“Atmos…” His voice came out garbled, and he concentrated on silent chest compressions for a few seconds until he could speak. “He injected her with… amiodarone?”

“Amiodarone.” Asa kept his voice suspiciously even as he snapped nitrile gloves onto his hands. “You’re certain?”

“Yes!” He kept thrusting his hands into her chest, his eyes darting between Asa and Deirdre. Her shoulders shrugged each time he pressed, making her chin nod. “She fainted. Then she started twitching… making noises… She stopped breathing, Asa!”

“Pause compressions, Archer.” Asa’s voice, calm and gentle, broke through his rising panic. Archer lifted his hands just off her chest, watching as his brother pressed two gloved fingers hard into her throat.

“She’s… not here. It’s different from when she’s asleep. I don’t know how to describe—”

“Archer, take a deep breath and start compressions. Can you keep doing them for me while I secure her airway?”

Archer resumed the harsh beat before Asa finished speaking. His eyes trailed wildly up and down her pallid body as her legs twitched again. Her abdomen bulged rhythmically each time his hands descended. Her hands curled like pale, dead things in the moss. Asa brought out a familiar plastic case and plucked out a curved plastic airway. Meanwhile, Archer kept pressing down, nauseated with fear and the sensation of pushing hard on such an important part of her.

“Fae medics are on the way.” Asa tipped Deirdre’s head back and used his thumbs to open her jaw before slipping it between her teeth and turning it one hundred eighty degrees. “Atmos showed up at her parents’ home and said she needed help, though he did not exactly tell them what he did.”

Archer groaned involuntarily, a broken sound that echoed. Deirdre’s eyes were closed again, the blue cast even more noticeable as it tinged her features. The plastic piece between her teeth held her mouth open, and he could see how blue her lips were around it. Asa leaned in again, this time with a mask attached to a large bulb.

“You’ll pause every thirty compressions,” Asa said, his voice steady. “I will give her two breaths and you immediately start compressions again. Pause now.”

Archer’s momentum stuttered, and he ground to a halt as Asa squeezed the bulb. There was the sound of plastic crumpling and the whoosh of air. He felt Deirdre’s chest rise and fall under his hands. Another breath, and then Archer rolled his weight over his hands. He dug his hands into her sternum and—

*** Asa couldn’t be sure what told him to pull back, or why he listened, but he jerked away, dropping the bag-valve mask and breaking contact with Deirdre just before Archer sucked in a pained breath and a flash of light nearly obliterated Asa’s vision. He saw them both as burning silhouettes, her body bowing up slightly from the moss, his back arching and his head falling back.

Then the light vanished, and Archer collapsed onto his back, groaning. Asa lurched forward and pressed his fingertips against Deirdre’s carotid artery.

One one thousand.

Two one thousand.

Three one thousand.

Four…

The seconds ticked by.

Ten one thousand.

His lips pulling into a thin line, Asa bent over Deirdre, wove his fingers together, and pressed the heel of his bottom hand against her sternum. Rolling his shoulders over his hands, he began a series of rapid, deep, professional compressions. Then he spared a glance for his brother, sprawled on his back next to Deirdre. Archer’s chest rose and fell rapidly, fingers digging into the moss. “Archer?”

The younger man groaned again and tried to push himself upright, only to collapse back to the moss. “Deirdre…”

Asa glanced around to see where he’d dropped the mask. His eyes stopped on her cyanotic face and he quickly lifted his hands from her chest and tipped her head back. Pinching off her nostrils, he covered Deirdre’s slack, cool mouth with his own and gave her a breath. He gave her a second to exhale before blowing into her mouth again, rounding out her cheeks. Then he returned to chest compressions. “One, two, three, four…”

“Nellä!” The cracking of small branches overhead masked the crunchy sound and feel of Deirdre’s cartilage under his hands. He looked up, his compressions unfaltering as he searched for the source of the sounds. Then, a fae woman dropped into the moss beside him, followed by a fae man. Their wings whipped up a breeze that stirred hair and Deirdre’s skirt, and he watched as they deposited duffles and cases on the ground. Their wings folded neatly behind them. The man and woman both wore backless tunics, scrub pants, and gloves.

Archer pushed himself onto his hands and knees, panting as he stared up at the newcomers. Then he crawled over to the side and retrieved the bag-valve mask.

“I am Dr. Eḥāyi.” Echeyee. The woman reached took the mask from Archer, pressing it to Deirdre’s face with her fingers lapped over the younger women’s chin. The fae doctor was tall and broad-shouldered, with smooth dark skin and silver-streaked hair braided into a crown.

“…twenty-nine, thirty.”

Dr. Eḥāyi gave the bag two squeezes and then sat it to the side, dragging one duffle closer as Asa resumed chest compressions. “You would call me an emergency physician. This is Nurse Imala.”

“…nine… Dr. Neal, cardiologist. Deirdre has a condition I would call Romano Ward. She was injected with an unknown amount of amiodarone. There has been one… apparent magical defibrillation.”

Nurse Imala laid his hand on Deirdre’s ankle as Dr. Eḥāyi connected the mask to an oxygen canister. A green glow crept up Deirdre’s leg, disappearing beneath Deirdre’s dress. Asa forced himself to keep his focus on the rhythm, depth, and recoil of his compressions. Imala called out: “Dr. Eḥāyi, she needs to be intubated! Tilā suur naysai.”

“I will intubate.” Eḥāyi gave Deirdre two more breaths from the bag. “Dr. Neal, can you continue chest compressions?”

“Yes. One, two, three…”

Imala lifted his hand, and the green light lingered. “I’m going to get her on the monitor and then I will start an IV. I need to see this rhythm.”

“… eighteen, nineteen, twenty…”

“You are ánrhen?” Eḥāyi asked Archer. His brother sat on his haunches a couple of feet from Deirdre, his face gray with distress.

“Yes,” Archer forced out, his voice hoarse. “Archer.”

Asa finished the round of compressions. Eḥāyi delivered two more breaths with the bag, still speaking to Archer. “You must hold her hand, Archer. You are life support. Do you understand? I will tell you when to let go and when to hold on.”

“One, two, three…” The cartilage in her chest crunches and crackled as he worked. The sounds weren’t anything he hadn’t heard before. Still, he grit his teeth, trying to think of her as a patient and not as family. 

Archer swallowed audibly and moved closer. He sat beside Deirdre, his knees bent and his ankles crossed, and took her hand tenderly in both of his. “It’s alright, love. I’m here.” His voice, tender and loving, barely rose above a whisper.

Asa’s compartmentalization cracked.

*** Archer clutched Deirdre’s cool hand and pushed back the dizziness clutching at him. His mind set out a search in every possible direction, trying to find her. In the short time they’d been bonded, he’d already forgotten what it was like not to know her. If she was at work and he at a café, he sensed her. If one or both slept, they were still there. 

But she wasn’t, not now.

Certainly, her physical body remained. Sprawled on the moss, ghost pale but for the purple mask of her face. Dr. Eḥāyi lay on her side beside him, one hand supporting a metal device she’d wedged into Deirdre’s open mouth. Her other hand delicately clutched a long plastic tube with a cuff on the end. She ran it down the side of the metal scope, seeming unperturbed by the rocking movement of Deirdre’s body. 

Asa still performed chest compressions, his hands making a soft thumping sound as he pushed the heel of his hand into the lower part of her sternum. Deirdre’s chest sank beneath the pressure of his hands, dipping and then popping back up each time he rose over her. The force of his hands sent a puff of air out of her open mouth with each thrust.

As Eḥāyi fed the tube down Deirdre’s throat, Nurse Imala brought over a pair of sheers, intending to cut down the center of her dress. He quickly examined the neckline, then said: “Archer, we’re going to pull her dress down to her hips. You take that sleeve, and I’ll take the other.”

Archer quickly released her hand and slipped his fingers inside the top of her sleeve. Asa lifted his hands as the two of them pulled her dress off her shoulders and down her arms, exposing her breasts and the reddish bruise between them. Archer pulled her hand free from the sleeve and pushed the fabric down to her hips.

“I’m in,” he heard Eḥāyi say.

“Here are the others!” Imala called out. Two more fae medics walked down the path, rolling a gurney. Archer spared them a glance and then returned his attention to Deirdre. The whites of her eyes were still showing, gray set against the lavender of her skin. Eḥāyi slipped a plastic strap beneath and around Deirdre’s head and used it to secure the tube. Then she connected the bag to the tube, squeezing the bag twice before handing the responsibility off to one of the new medics.

“This is Sertse and Shavsan. Our patient is Deirdre. This is her ánrhen, Archer. And this is Dr. Neal.” Eḥāyi continued to talk, but Archer’s attention drifted back to Deirdre.

Without her dress hiding the movements, he could truly see the effect of compressions on her body. The upper left quadrant of her chest, close to the center, sank nearly twice a second as Asa pumped her chest. The skin of his hands looked splotchy from the effort, while hers bloomed with bruises. His fingers inadvertently brushed one of her brown nipples. Her breasts wobbled with each thrust, the force telegraphing down to her abdomen in waves that crested against her puddled dress. 

Imala leaned in and applied a white pad to Deirdre’s upper right chest, quickly smoothing it to her skin. Eḥāyi applied the other, working around Shavsan, who had Deirdre’s other arm extended onto a white cloth he’d spread in his lap. He tied on a tourniquet, cleaned the crook of her elbow, and pressed his thumb just below. He had a cannula inserted by the time Eḥāyi called out: “Pause compressions.”

Asa sat back on his heels, breathing hard. Alarms filled the air, and Archer watched as his brother leaned forward to look at the monitor. 

“Torsades de Pointes,” he said, his hands already back in place before Eḥāyi could speak. Archer looked at the monitor, but he couldn’t make anything out of the wobbly, chaotic lines.

For a few seconds, the only sounds were Asa’s breathing, the thump of his hands, and Sertse squeezing the bag. Deirdre’s lips around the tube still looked blue, and he gripped her hands tight.

“We will shock her now,” Eḥāyi said. “I’m charging to two-hundred.”

“Archer, you must not touch her,” Imala said., detaching the bag. “Please, back away three feet.”

“Imala, you will switch with Asa. Pads are charged, everyone clear.”

Archer laid her hand on the moss and backed away, watching as Asa raised his hands and scooted back and Shavsan lowered her arm to the moss and held an IV bag at shoulder level.

“Administering shock.” Eḥāyi pressed a button on the monitor and Deirdre flinched, her eyes closing and her head lolling to the side. Imala slid in front of Asa and resumed chest compressions. Her stomach popped up as her chest sank. Sertse reconnected the bag.

Asa took the IV bag from Shavsan and held it aloft. 

“Shavsan,” Eḥāyi said. “Administer one milligram epinephrine, and then in two minutes two grams magnesium IV push.”

“Administering epinephrine now.”

“Do you agree, Dr. Neal?” Eḥāyi asked.

“Yes. And, respectfully, you have the lead,” Asa responded. The mask of his features slipped, revealing the grim expression beneath. “Your species, your code.”

Deirdre’s arm moved, pulling against his grip. Archer leaned forward, his eyes darting to her face, then to the monitor, then to Asa. Before either of them could speak, her chest arched and her shoulders jerked. 

“Sit her up!” Eḥāyi commanded, as Sertse disconnected the bag and Imala paused chest compressions. “Her wings are—”

Archer slid his arm beneath her shoulders, heaving Deirdre’s torso from the ground. Her head fell back on his arm, the tube jutting out from her lips. He felt her wings tickle the underside of his arm as they unfurled, flopping and jerking behind her. Sertse took one wing and Eḥāyi the other, stretching them carefully out to either side.

“Lay her flat, quickly!” That came from Asa. Archer complied, easing her limp body down onto the moss. To his shock, he realized that the formerly lush, green moss had died beneath and around Deirdre, turning brown and dry. Imala’s long-fingered hands continued chest compressions, mercilessly pounding into her chest at a rapid rate. Sertse reconnected the bag and forced an oxygenated breath into Deirdre’s lungs. 

Archer reached for her hand again, cupping her small hand in his larger one. Her nail beds were lavender now, like her eyelids. 

Eḥāyi crouched between Sertse and Archer and laid her hand on Deirdre’s forehead. “Naneun a cervein o Deirdre.” Light ran from the doctor’s chest down her left arm, sinking into Deirdre in pulses.

She looked up at Asa. “I seek to protect her brain.”

He nodded, his expression solemn. “Thank you. That is something I would wish to do for all of my patients.”

“Administering two grams magnesium now,” intoned Shavsan.

Deirdre’s arm pulled against his grip again. He held tight, his own heart pounding as her eyes opened to white slits again and her lips sneered around the tube. Her legs moved, drawing up, caught up in her dress. Eḥāyi crouched down at Deirdre’s hips, pulling her dress down a few more inches so she could press her gloved fingers into the crease of Deirdre’s thigh. Archer’s gaze darted back to her face. Her irises were showing now, her eyes staring dully up at the canopy.

Close your eyes, love. I can’t take it.

His eyes burned, and he blinked, dislodging a single hot tear. It ran down the side of his nose before slipping over his lips and dripping from his chin. He massaged her palm with his thumbs, stroking her lifeline as though he could milk more time from her. The pain tugged at his heart, drawing life from the organ and sending it down his arms and into—

“It’s happening again!” he gasped. It was the only warning he could give before lightning struck the top of his head and everything went black.

***

“Archer!” Voices and harsh alarms drew him back from the dark.

“…asystolic. Administer another milligram epi and then I want you on bloodwork. Imala, suction her. Sertse, I want you on compressions…”

“Archer!”

“Confirm her pressure, Imala and then Shavsan, I want you to administer that norepinephrine. Is he breathing, Dr. Neal?”

“Yes, he—Archer, open your eyes!”

The voices all boiled down to one. Asa, sounding worried. He felt the dry rub of gloved fingers beneath his jaw and reached up to swat them away. Asa—he assumed—caught his hand and squeezed it tight.

“Am I sick?” Archer’s voice cracked, his throat so tight it hurt to talk. A chill took him, and he forced his eyes open. The gesture stung, and he squeezed them shut again. “Was there an accident? What’s that sound?” 

His body ached, and his chest felt heavy. He felt as though he’d been bedridden with a bad flu, or perhaps pneumonia. 

“How do you feel, Archer? Just lay there and rest, please.”

“As though I’ve been in an accident,” he said, aware that he sounded peevish. On top of everything else, anxiety seeped in, making his heart race and sending up alarms. More feelings sank in. Loss. Grief. Archer rubbed the grit from his eyes and peeled them open again.

Asa leaned over him, his face tense and ashen. His brother reached out and gently patted Archer on the cheek, a tender gesture that startled him. His eyes shifted past Asa’s face, catching movement up in the blurry tree canopy. Archer blinked several times to clear his vision.

A beautiful man hovered in the canopy, wings beating slowly, creating a breeze that stirred his long, blonde hair. Even from that distance, Archer could see the man’s tortured expression. For his part, Archer felt an uncharacteristic flash of white hot rage that made him push himself up to a seated position and snarl: “What is he doing here?! GO!” Gasping, Archer registered other fae alight near the man, their hands raised warily. 

His brother tried to calm him. “Archer—”

“Silence the alarm, please.” Eḥāyi’s voice cut through his anger.

Deidre.

Archer twisted, forcing himself to look at the scene beside him, ashamed that she hadn’t been his first coherent thought. Asa gripped his shoulder. Deirdre still lay on her back on the dead moss, wings akimbo beneath her. But she looked much worse. Her skin gone dry and waxen, her hair shades lighter and brittle. He could see the veins around her wrists and count her ribs, as though she’d lost weight in the time he’d been unconscious. Her eyes, open and staring, irises muddy and colorless. Lips slack around the tube delivering oxygen to her lungs. Sertse’s hands between her breasts, forcefully pushing her sternum down over and over again, making her slim shoulders jerk and her stomach seesaw in and out of a bloat. 

Archer reached for her hand and that’s when he saw them… bits of insect wings littering the ground. Feathers, of a sort. Crumbled. With each compression, her shoulders shrugged and her wings moved, and opalescent shards flaked off, littering the dry ground.

Archer hunched over her cold hand, agony building as pressure beneath his skin. “Asa, she…”

“I’ll speak to you plainly, Archer. If you wish it.” Asa gripped his shoulder too tight.

“I do.” His words bit into his throat like gravel.

“Deirdre’s heart is in what we call asystole. This is when there is no electrical rhythm. We cannot defibrillate asystole, as the purpose of defibrillation is to disrupt dangerous heart rhythms. What we do instead is provide chest compressions and administer medications to assist the heart in achieving a shockable rhythm.” Asa paused and took a deep breath. Archer’s heart hollowed out. “I cannot account for her change in appearance… I’m not optimistic, Archer. I’m so sorry.”

“Deirdre is not gone!” A woman’s voice, ragged and grief-stricken, broke in at the end of Asa’s explanation. Movement beyond the tableau in front of him dragged his attention away from the resuscitation efforts. Tvaris, Deirdre’s mother, broke through the crowd of fae he hadn’t noticed assembling. Nearly all tall, unlike his Deirdre, though otherwise they were diverse in shape and color. Each with beautiful wings. He wished he could have seen them together in other circumstances.

Liam stepped in front of her and took her by the arms. “Sēs, ánrhen.”

“He doesn’t know how—”

“Her mother’s right,” Nurse Imala interjected. “Your bond is intact, so we will continue our efforts until that changes.”

“Her brain,” Asa blurted, his hand going to his mouth when Archer glanced at him.

“We do not heal like humans, Dr. Neal.” Eḥāyi’s eyes shifted from the cardiac monitor. “If, perhaps, she had been discovered already cardiac arrest instead, with an unknown amount of time having passed, then things would be different.”

Archer hunched forward, Deirdre’s hand pulled against his abdomen. He tried to picture her as she’d been such a short time before. Aloft, glowing with happiness and freedom. And love. All destroyed.

“Why?” The question came out too quiet for anyone to hear. He gripped Deirdre’s hand tight, his eyes squeezing closed. He dragged in a deep breath. “WHY?!”

The forest fell silent aside from the sound of the bag-valve mask and Sertse’s exertions over Deirdre’s still chest.

Then, a voice from above.

“I am a fool, and I did not believe it would kill her.”

***

Atmos pumped his wings, just enough to keep himself aloft. Fae warriors hovered close by, though as of yet they’d made no moves to detain him. Atmos knew what the humans did not; he wasn’t being detained yet because his Intention might be needed to keep Deirdre alive. For similar reasons, a crowd formed below, creating a large semi-circle around the scene of his crime. Family, friends, neighbors, officials. Well-wishers and on-lookers. His own mother stood in the back, white-faced with her fist pressed to her lips. 

Within the semi-circle, the forest was dying; brown moss, trees with brittle branches and falling leaves, bodies of insects that flew unawares into Deirdre’s sucking desire to live. He could see a faint rainbow flowing from the crowd, a channel of involuntary aid drawn from the heart light of everyone there. She’d pulled the most from her ánrhen, knocking the man unconscious to stabilize her heart.

It isn’t working, he thought, his hands curling into fists. His love lay sprawled on her back, a faded shell of herself. Any human would have been long declared dead. Most fae. His cruel, careless miscalculation had shown him something he’d never understood before: Deirdre was strong. 

His mind briefly flashed back to when they’d parted; an argument. Shouting, tears. He’d attempted to restrain her, she’d injured him. Other fae intervened and Deirdre collapsed and had to be cardioverted. After, for years, he’d tried to see her, and she turned him away each time. Atmos tried to move on. Buried himself in his work. Sought pleasure from others. Today, however, when he’d seen her entering their village, something inside him snapped.

First, he found a list of medications contraindicated for Long QT Syndrome. The very first item on the list was amiodarone, and though he’d taken hours to research the other options, he’d decided this would be the easiest to get and the easiest to administer without getting caught before it took effect. He would dose her, then take her to receive medical care once she’d collapsed. He knew her parents would want her to have the surgery; when better for such a thing to occur?

Breaking into the human ambulance had been easy, and he already had his darts at his disposal. He’d bet, correctly, that she would resume her old habit of flying in the meadow in the early mornings. 

But Atmos had not expected her to deteriorate so quickly. Or for him to freeze with panic and remorse as soon as Deirdre retreated into the trees and collapsed in Archer’s arms. And he most certainly had not expected this.

After the discharge of ánh, her heart rate had not gone back to normal. It did not even continue its ineffective beat. Deirdre’s heart stopped. And Atmos made himself watch as the fae medics forced oxygen into her lungs and pumped the oxygenated blood around her body. Harsh and ugly, the procedure left purple marks on her chest. The medic’s gloved hands shoved rhythmically into Deirdre’s naked chest, her sternum sinking deep. The motion displaced air, organs, and tissues, pushing her chalk-white stomach up, rounding it out over and over again, her belly button riding the crest of that artificial wave. Each hard compression bent her shoulders slightly toward her collarbones and made her nipples sway back and forth. Her thighs trembled and her feet rocked side to side. Her hands, fingers curled limply toward her palm, moved incrementally with each thrust.

Even from his position, he could see the discoloration of her face, her lips slack around the endotracheal tube the medics inserted. He could see the way her body grew gaunt and her hair paled and her wings crumbled.

I’ve killed her.

There would be punishment, though he couldn’t imagine it would be anything worse than this.

The human man regained consciousness, his grief telegraphed by the set of his shoulders and the way he pulled her hand into his stomach, as though to soothe the hurt he felt deep inside. Atmos heard the man speak: “WHY?!”

Without thinking, Atmos answered: “I am a fool, and I did not believe it would kill her.”

The answering sound could have been a sob or a laugh; either way, it was ugly.

Before either man could speak again, the tone of the cardiac alarm changed and Dr. Eḥāyi called out: “Pause compressions, ten second analysis!” Her eyes stayed on the monitor as multiple hands pressed to Deirdre’s ravaged skin. Green, white, and pink light spread across Deirdre’s body.

“V-fib!” Dr. Eḥāyi’s voice betrayed her excitement. Sertse and Imala resumed CPR. “Charging the defibrillator to three-hundred sixty…”

The human doctor reached for his brother. “Archer, you can’t touch her while they—”

A bright blue light burst from the center of the semi-circle, cutting off the doctor’s words. Deirdre’s back bowed, arching off the forest floor. Sertse and Imala both jerked and fell back, mouths open in a silent cry. Her ánrhen, Archer, seized up, his head falling back as his arms tensed. Connected to Archer by a hand on his arm, Dr. Neal followed suit, his eyes rolling until the whites of his eyes showed. The light brightened to near-blinding, and then it snapped off as suddenly as it had appeared.

One by one, Sertse, Imala, Archer, and Asa collapsed to the ground beside her.

The forest fell silent.

--

Part Six

[alanaplucked]

Sonata

part three

part four| masterlist

Matty assumed he had been staring at the ceiling for at least an hour. The silence was beginning to irritate him, a vast comparison to the scenery he was used to.

His mind was stuck on a loop, looking in on one specific emotion; one he tried so hard to overlook. To which he could not deal with anymore.

He soon found himself slinging a sweatshirt over himself and padding down the creaky staircase towards the outdoor studio. Unaware of the faint incandescent light radiating from the upper window.

Love found herself cross legged on the floor with an acoustic in grip. Eyes scanning the various books and papers around her, occasionally bending down to scribble something new down.

Her mind worked wonders in the late hours yet nights like these drained her emotionally, despite the great song material she got. Back facing the door as she intently mustered up potential lyrics in her head.

Her fingers tenderly picked the strings as lyrics just above a whisper fell from her mouth. She knew the song being conjured up wouldn't be heard to anybody but her, it was too impassioned. It could only act cathartically.

Yet the frame leaning against the door said otherwise. His stare acted unnoticed. It was pure and he found himself dazed at the young girl.

A sight so raw and unintentional, a sense of intruding struck over him as the room fell silent following the last strum. He knew he wasn't able to leave without her turning and noticing him followed by an awkward next encounter.

"That was so alluring - sorry I didn't know you would be in here I didn't wanna interrupt" He had added on once she spun around. A small sense of shock on her face.

"Oh god no don't be sorry. I'm the one who's not actually meant to be in here" Love’s cheeks had flushed, she wasn't usually nervous but considering Matty had walked in on such a vulnerable moment. "Let me just grab my stuff, I'll be out of your-"

"No no don't, I mean I don't think I would be able to deal with the silence. That's why I came in here" Matty hadn't recalled deciding to be so honest, though it came naturally.

"yeah it can get like that" Love spoke slowly lowering herself back into her original position. A low silence fell between them. A warm glow saturated the room, lamps were littered upon the studio. She found it comforting and supposed her father had too.

"I couldn't imagine living here" His body was now slouched against the leather couch only a couple metres away from herself. Sincerity radiated from him as his head dropped back against the brown leather. "I need the city noise"

"I try not to most of the time; live here that is" It was true though she hated to admit it. Yet she had imagined Matty had noticed she wasn't here the entire two months they had been recording.

"Do you not then feel like you're taking it for granted" Despite the nature of the question it didn't come across rude or prodding. Now meeting her gaze he could tell she was slightly uncomfortable.

Love was slightly confused, this wasn't the Matty Healy she had googled only a couple hours ago. Leaving the studio that morning led her to be curious of the new face. "yes and no. I feel like it's a small dose kind of thing. you can appreciate it only when it's necessary, plus i've spent my whole life here"

An uncomfortable silence was now lingering, well maybe that feeling was one sided because Love was at peace picking the strings of her guitar, despite her feeling his stare follow her every move.

"I listened to your album, you know, it was very impressive. I mean when I was seventeen I was writing about sex and girls with boyfriends" He was the first to break the silence and a small smirk rose upon her face though she was weary of whether he could see it or not.

"Is that surprising that I liked it?" He had noticed.

Straightening her face and turning to face him "at first, but I don't know any musician that is only subject to their own genre"  Her statement was followed by a low hum on his end.

"So what kind of music do you like?" Matty couldn't help but prod.

"Anything really" Love’s fingers were still picking and Matty wondered if it would lull him to sleep.

"Anything?" His voice echoed her own and she had to stop herself from looking up at him. Keeping an overly disinterested act as though she were far too busy for such a conversation.

"Yeah I guess-" It was true. Love’s father had produced a variety of different genres and his record collection was just about diverse as New York City.

"What so like metal to classical" Matty couldn't imagine this girl listening to anything different to her innocent guitar picking. It was silly of him to imagine that the daughter of one of the best producers in the world only listened to the top 40.

Love was confused to say the least but a small smirk picked up her lips and she scribbled down another lyric. surprised she would still be able to work while holding such a conversation. It helped she couldn't look him in the eye though she was starting to realise he's not as intimidating as he seemed hours ago.

"those are very basic genres, the average normy would listen to those without thought. plus, you can't say you like music if you disregard 99.9% of it"

"the average normy?, what are you implying we are?" Love realised she hadn't heard him laugh and she wished nothing more than to play it on repeat. If she could make him laugh like that again she thought she would be content forever.

"well obviously geniuses, or deities at least"

"ok, so let me get this right you listen to everything offered under the sun except my music" He had simply assumed. And by the look on her face as she got up to swap guitars- he was right, she had no clue as to who he was until she was caught in the studio.

"I actually listened to your album-" Love turned herself around to sit back in her spot that was now occupied by Matty, eyes scanning her lyrics.

"I'm sure you did" His head rose with a smirk; that was until her saw her frozen in the middle of the room, eyes burning on his finger trailing the fourth line of her page.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

"yeah you shouldn't have" Love got herself to finally move and pick her journal up when he cowered back.

He sat back in shock at her current change in demeanour and said something he probably shouldn't have. "how'd you make an album if you can't handle someone reading your lyrics"

She felt the gentle tug at the tears gathering in her eyes as she moved to tidy the chaos she had wrought in the studio.

"that wasn't for an album, it wasn't for you, not for anyone" it came out gentle, Matty hated how beautiful he thought she sounded.

"it should be"

"excuse me?"

"that's better than anything you've got out there, truthfully. Are you making another album?" Frankly Matty had been feigning for more after listening to her album all those months ago. She hadn't gone on a tour, done any shows, press, there were no unreleased leaks, no covers on social media; she hadn't even had an account on anything. The most he had found was an old youtube video her father had posted of her singing 'both sides now' when she was twelve.

"not for a long long time" She had calmed herself. She thought as though Matty would 5150 her after reading what she had wrote.

"like Fiona Apple?" He had lit a cigarette now and reclined into the base of the couch, she had been leaning her hands back into the desk.

"Sure, she's great"

[anachilles]

Prompt: “Your hair keeps falling into your eyes, do you know that? Here, lemme just—”

Pairing: Crosby x Bubbles

hi, friend! thanks so much for the prompt! i've come back to this one sitting in my inbox after a couple days now of just thinking these guys are the cutest, amidst my most recent rewatch of the series lol. little slice of life tidbit from my 🚒🥃 firehouse!au, hope that's okay! 🫶

It was just gone 10:30pm when the key started jiggling in the lock.

Joe turned to the door immediately from where he was perched in semi-darkness at the dining table, laptop open at his left hand, a worn-down pencil in his right, with a sketchbook just beyond it.

Turns out, if he actually wanted to do some of the kind of art that had led him down this particular career path in the first place, around the hours he was putting into this internship he was on, then he'd have to carve it out for himself.

He watched in silent amusement as Harry seamlessly navigated the same routine he trod through every night he had a bar shift, so practiced at this stage he could likely do it in his sleep.

He had done once and all, when he'd misread a bottle of Nyquil and ended up doing three times the recommended dose before conking out.

In through the front door, lock it, keys in the bowl by the door so he always knew where they were if they weren't in his pocket. A deep, exaggerated exhale before shucking off his bag and outer layers. Toe off his shoes, shove them in the shoe rack, pad one, two, three, four, five over to the kitchen space...

Their place was tiny (cozy and intimate, they preferred), so the fact that Harry hadn't clocked Joe sitting there made the whole thing even more funny.

It hadn't been intentional, but just as Crosby unfurled a half-empty bag of mini-pretzel sticks he'd scavenged from the cupboard, Joe loudly, pointedly cleared his throat. The other man jumped nearly half a foot in the air, pretzel pieces scattering across the countertop that separated them.

"Snacks before dinner, Harry Crosby?" Joe exclaimed, in his best 'nagging housewife' impression, though even then couldn't keep the playful smirk off his face. "After I slave away over a hot stove so you have a nice, home-cooked meal to come back to?"

"Jesus Christ! Where did you come from?" Harry said, breathless, before picking up one of the wasted pretzels and popping it in his mouth. He shrugged, "An appetiser, obviously."

Joe turned back round to the table, though he could see Harry's reflection in the black, slumbering laptop screen. "It’s only spaghetti; in the fridge for whenever you want it," he said, but could already see Harry abandoning the kitchen altogether and making his way over to him.

Smiling a little to himself, he welcomed Harry's arms as they slid down either side of his neck, and instinctively tilted his head upwards to accept the kiss he knew from said well-practiced routine was coming. The other man's lips were cold from braving the elements outside, as was the tip of his nose where it pressed into his cheek with the extra kiss he snuck in there before tucking his chin into the crook of Joe's neck.

"What're you still doing up? Don't you have work in the morning?" Harry asked.

Joe's hand snaked round to hold the nape of Harry's neck, fingertips scritching lightly into the raven-coloured hair at the base. "Eh, it's not too late. Didn't see you before you left this morning, figured since it was a Thursday you'd be first cut at the bar. Wanted to wait up for you."

Harry's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "'...since it was a Thursday...'?"

"Ain't that the night you work with Gale? Everett too, a lot of the time?"

"Yeah?"

Joe scoffed out a laugh. "Where they 'let' you take first cut so they get a couple extra hours to moon at those firefighters?"

There was a beat of silence as Harry seemed to consider such an idea, and while he was pondering, Joe moved forward a little bit so he was leant over his sketchpad again, bringing Harry with him. He jerked his head a little as his bangs threatened to fall into his eyesight from both sides.

“Huh," Harry breathed. Putting two and two together.

“Not that I can imagine what Gale ‘mooning’ would look like…” Joe said, pencil scratching the paper as he added a couple more lines, and used his other hand to pull back his bangs from his face.

Only for them to flop right back down again.

Harry shrugged. He'd known Gale a couple of years now, and liked him a lot; respected him a hell of a lot. But... “Subtler than most, for sure, but definitely there. In his own way." He paused, smiling to himself as he quipped, like he was reciting from a book of poetry. "Like a solid old Oak tree."

Joe snorted with laughter, having to flick his hair out of his eyes again. "Hope you're not moonin' at no firefighters..."

Harry looked scandalised for a moment. "Me? Never," he said, tightening his hold around Joe's shoulders. "Although... there is one of them. Blond, with big long 90's boyband bangs that are always falling in his face." He raked his fingers through Joe's own with the remark, pulling the hair up out of his face for him. "So I guess you never know."

Joe tilted his head back in the direction his hair was being pulled, to find Harry looking back at him with fond eyes, all big and dark and doe-like, despite his smirk, and affection curled warm in his chest.

"Yeah, well whoever he is he's welcome to you," Joe shot back just as Harry was about to kiss his cheek again. He pushed him away with a gentle little shove against his mouth, shrieking a little when Harry swooped back in with a playful, retaliatory little nibble instead.

"No he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

[darkmermaidao3]

Chapter Six Clarity (Bonten Sanzu)

Minors do not interact 18+ fic

Warnings: Mentions of Controlled Substances, Coercion, Manipulation, Profanity, possibly more that I forgot to mention.

Flashbacks are in pink text!

For the first time since he’d spoken to her the day prior, she was the furthest thing from being flustered from his words, a purse on her lips and her hands on her hips, her neck craned back to stare up at her patient, her expression nonnegotiable.

“Two.” She repeated, her tone expressing that she absolutely refused to budge; his lips were pressed into a thin line, that displeased look she’d grown accustomed to seeing over the last few days they’d been together was still going strong, regardless of her trying to put her foot down with him.

“Four.” He retorted lowly, his voice teetering on exasperation; she shook her head, absolutely not.

“You’ll overdose, no.” she reasoned, stating the truth; she was the medical professional here, he’d overdose if she gave him four pills three separate times a day, this was heavy duty stuff. “Two now, you can have another dose in six hours.”

“Twenty milligrams is nothing.” He argued, sounding irritated; she could’ve scoffed, the opioid was stronger than morphine in some cases, he didn’t need to be teetering on the brink of death right after she’d saved his life and regardless of how aggravated he was with her, she wasn’t going to bargain about this. 

“You can’t have more than sixty in a day; it could kill you.” She explained, her voice matter of fact; if he’d just take the pills and wait for them to kick in, he’d see that she wasn’t joking around about how strong they were, and it’d stop him from demanding a larger dose next time.

“My tolerance-”

“Isn’t a factor.” She interrupted, her voice swapping to stern; if he was really going to continue to press her about this then she’d only give him one, he didn’t want to test her when it came to narcotics. “Twenty milligrams, two pills every six hours.”

“Doctor-”

“You wanna make it one?” the woman asked, her tone warning; despite how soft her features usually were, her gaze was hardened, proving that she meant business.

She was sure he was questioning why he hadn’t snapped her neck back at the clinic, he was positively fuming over her refusal to give him what he wanted and even if he debated on doing so now it wouldn’t do anything to help him. All those pills were locked up in her safe, the combination only accessible in her mind and she’d made sure not to open it when he was around, she was glad for that now because he surely would’ve taken too many pills if he had access to them. A quiet squeak left her in surprise when the palm of his hand slapped against the wall right next to her head, stepping so close that there wasn’t even a foot worth of space separating them, her heart going into overdrive from the way he was looming over her. Her mouth felt thick with spit the instant his free hand reached towards her throat and although she’d been sure he was about to strangle the life out of her, his fingers hooked under her chin instead, urging her to meet his piercing eyes. Remembering how to breathe was proving to be a challenge, the intensity of his stare had her shifting her weight from one foot to the other, trying her utmost hardest to ignore the slick that had settled in her panties; if he thought he could seduce her into giving him what he wanted then he had another thing coming because she definitely wasn’t going to-

‘Fuck, breathe.’

There was no question the thought was in his head, the way his aquamarine pools were raking over her from head to toe told her as much, whether it was simply out of wanting to get his way, she couldn’t be entirely sure considering the number of times his stare had roamed her form. He was entirely aware of the effect he had on her, being high hadn’t blinded him to it from the get-go because although his cognitive function was impaired then, he functioned much better than most people. It seemed that she was dealing with a person that either abused drugs or had chronic pain to the point that he had regular prescriptions to manage it, she wasn’t going to judge him by assuming one or the other. During the moments he was high, he was still capable of holding his composure, never slurring his words or talking so fast that it was obvious; he would’ve come off completely sober if it weren’t for his pupils dilating. He’d even been capable of retaining full memories during those moments, he could pay attention if it was something he was interested in observing and he remembered much more than she’d anticipated; some of the things he’d made comments about had surprised her, like the name of her secretary, he’d learned it when she’d been on that phone call. She couldn’t put it passed him not to know just how attracted she was to him, not only was he observant but she couldn’t hide it to save her life. He was going to try to use that to his advantage to persuade her to relent to whatever it was that he wanted in the moment, and he’d gone as far to test it last night after they had settled in.

 Yuki had never been more thankful for hot water than she was tonight, she’d felt absolutely disgusting after how long she’d gone without washing her hair and she was going to have to start making a point not to spend more than two nights away from home if she wound up in the zone with her researching; it’d taken much too long to both detangle and wash her hair after how many times she’d had to use dry shampoo. A content sigh left her, running the brush through her hair one more time just to ensure she’d gotten all the tangles out before stepping out of the adjoining bathroom, it would take forever for her hair dry with the length of it, but it wasn’t so damp that she’d soak her pillow should she lay down for bed in the next few minutes. It’d been a long day and the only things that she had left to do were give her patient that last shot of morphine, remove the IV, clean the area, slap a band-aid on it and call it a day. She doubted she’d even hear Kuro running the halls like he usually did in the dead of night with how exhausted she was, her couch in the office may have been her regular sleeping spot but she’d undoubtedly missed her bed.

‘Just have to get a few more things done, that’s it.’

She quickly punched in the code to the safe, opening it up and placed all the prescription bottles in it, easing the door shut until the alert sounded that it was secure again. She didn’t have very many valuable things in her home, mostly documents, but she’d wanted a safe nonetheless. It was helpful when it came to keeping all those pills safe while she was sleeping, she wanted to make sure her patient was educated on just how strong they were before she gave him free reign of them and tonight would not be the night considering he was about to get his last dose of morphine. She carefully removed the syringe from her purse, sliding over to her bedside table to collect what she’d previously gathered up for the IV removal and her lip caught between her teeth when she felt the pads of his fingers lightly graze her neck, easing her hair off to the side, the other hand pressing against her hip. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this man knew what he was doing, disregarding that he hadn’t even bothered to knock or announce his presence, he didn’t seem to care if she wanted personal space or not; she was pleasantly surprised at how many times he’d reached out to her today but that wasn’t the point.

‘Do I even care?’

The white-headed woman didn’t, had it been anyone else then absolutely, but it wasn’t, it was him and whatever it was about him that had ensnared her, it hadn’t just up and disappeared. The reactions she had to his touch were something she’d never experienced before him, she may have never dated but he hadn’t been the first man she’d ever admired, what she’d felt towards all of them combined was nothing in retrospect to the pink-haired male. She’d been on that page for a few days, but it hadn’t completely sunk in until now, becoming abundantly clear no sooner did her heart start fluttering, his chest lightly brushing against her upper back, fingertips softly caressing her hip, the other hand sliding her white locks off to the side. She bit harder into her lip when his cheek pressed against the side of her head, the warm breath in her ear sending a shiver through her; she didn’t think she had the courage to look at him even though he was most certainly looking at her.

“Doctor.” He murmured; her face burned hotter in response, the way he continued saying her professional title was the definition of teasing and it didn’t take a genius to come to the conclusion that it was his intention, he was trying to embarrass her.

‘Slow breathes, calm down.’

“Y-you don’t have to keep calling me that.” She mumbled, her voice filled with shyness; it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to shift around in his hold over the soft hum he let out while squeezing her hip lightly, her knees centimeters from knocking together. “Yuki’s fine.”

As informal as it was considering they didn’t know anything about each other, she honestly just wanted to hear how her name would sound when it rolled off his tongue, she knew she had to of been thinking like a creep at this point. She was just setting herself up for disappointment, he’d go back to his regular life and getting attached to someone that she knew she’d never see again wasn’t a smart move on her part, unrealistic expectations that she set would end in heartbreak. The things her friends had regularly told her over the years were starting to make sense, if she would’ve dated long before now, even just casually, she wouldn’t have swooned over him as quickly as she had. All these small things that he was doing wouldn’t have gotten to her so easily, her heart skipped simply over him looking at her, she’d forget how to breathe just from his hand on her hip, hearing his voice drenched her panties and she’d internally begged more than a few times that he’d kiss her; she shouldn’t have been getting so worked up over nothing.

She needed to pull herself together, she didn’t want to come off as desperate, but it was hard to maintain that mindset when she was looking at him, he was beautiful, and the deepness of his stare always entranced her. She couldn’t even remember what her dream guy had looked like after seeing him because it certainly had become the man currently touching her, everything about him was flawless. His rosy-pink locks that fell well below his shoulders, his aquamarine eyes that practically pierced her soul, the four small black hoops on each of his ears, the diamonds at the corners of his mouth, the gentle way he’d squeeze her hip or carefully brush strands of white from her face, the intense way he watched her as though she were the only person in the room (even though she technically had been); she’d swooned long before now. The doctor managed to put the syringe down in the nick of time, she surely would’ve dropped it with the way his hand slid across her belly to her other hip, locking around her middle. She almost swallowed her tongue when he fully snuggled up against her back with his lips hovered at her ear, his free hand sweeping snow-colored strands over her shoulder.

“You’re my doctor, aren’t you?” he whispered directly into her ear, his tone sensual; warmth had settled between her thighs in response and her knees were almost going weak from his voice alone, her tongue felt much too heavy to form any words.

‘He’s trying to give me a heart attack.’

“I want to be close to you, Doctor.” He followed up, his voice implying; her breath hitched when his arm squeezed around her belly lightly, her cheeks flushing darker when his free arm joined the other, his face moving into her neck. “You’ll let me sleep next to you, right?”

If he hadn’t been before, there was no doubt that he indisputably was trying to give her a heart attack now with a request like that, her heart was threatening to go into overdrive from nerves alone and she almost felt at a point of overheating simply from how hot her face felt. Her ears were burning in embarrassment, her mind conjuring up a number of scenarios all in a span of three seconds and not a one of them were anything close to PG, she hadn’t even had her first kiss yet so how would she manage to sleep next to a man without having a panic attack, let alone the perfect one latched onto her? She didn’t think her face could flush any darker, she’d never anticipated anything close to this when she’d decided that taking the precaution to go to her house rather than staying at the clinic would be for the best. He just continued throwing her for a loop, she’d never imagined he’d warm up to her so quickly and regardless of the fact that he was teasing her for all its worth, she couldn’t find it in herself to make attempts to shut it down.

“O-okay.” She mumbled, her voice bashful; another quiet hum left him, seeming pleased that she’d folded so easily to what he wanted without a fight.

Yuki wiggled around in his grasp until his hold on her loosened just enough that she could turn to face him, his arms still wrapped loosely around her waist and making no movement to fully release her. Despite the red hue on her cheeks, she placed her hand lightly against his shoulder and the other against his chest, avoiding touching any of the areas he’d been shot, craning her neck back to lock eyes with him.

“You need to sit down so I can give you this last dose.” The woman urged gently; his head cocked to the side with interest, his aquamarine pools holding her lavender ones. “I need to remove the IV when we’re done.”

He was silently questioning her, she could see it in the way he was looking at her and if she didn’t clear things up for him now, she had a feeling he wouldn’t make things easy for her, he’d think she was trying to cut him off when that wasn’t it whatsoever.

“I’m replacing the morphine with something else; I know you’re still in pain.” She continued with compassion; she didn’t want to invalidate his feelings because although he’d moved around more than she’d ever anticipated he would at this point, she could see from his expressions that it wasn’t without significant trouble, he was pushing himself to. “I want to start you on it while you’re with me, so you’ll be used to it by Monday.”

She could tell that as much as he didn’t like it, he did understand on some level why he couldn’t be on the morphine any longer, and she was thankful that she wasn’t going to have to go into a big spiel about why it wasn’t for long term use, the dependency it could cause, etcetera; he was smart enough to know that he had to use something else for pain management. He was obviously reluctant to agree but gave a short nod regardless, his arms never slipping from her waist as he maneuvered the two of them around until he was able to take a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling her to stand between his legs. Her cheeks went warm all over again over how close they were and being face to face with him was more impactful than she’d thought it would be, they were around the same height now and she could see details about him that she’d missed before; his nose was cute. Her patient seemed to be on the same page as herself in some respect, his gaze focused solely on her face, taking in her features, studying her with the utmost dedication; it was almost as though they were seeing each other for the first time all over again. She could’ve gotten lost staring at him, and she almost had up until one of his hands left her waist, her eyes pulling from his to pay attention to her movements while she grabbed the syringe, uncapping the needle end.

Her persona swapped to professional without so much as thinking about it, holding total composure while she injected the opiate into the IV, effect was immediate just as it always was, his arm relaxing around her just enough that she knew it was working. She made quick work of removing it from his hand, going about the aftercare meticulously and covered the site to protect it during the healing process, he hadn’t so much as flinched the whole time she’d gone about the process from start to finish.

“Finished.” She commented; a pleasant hum left him in acknowledgement, her doe eyes quickly finding his when he tugged at her waist with just enough strength that she was pressed flush against him.

“Lay down then.” He followed up easily; his tone told her that arguing against it would do her no good, he wasn’t going to budge about wanting her right next to him. “I don’t want to make you, you’re a delicate thing, Doctor.”

Yuki nodded without argument, unable to hide just how flustered she felt as she climbed up onto the mattress after switching off the lights, following his own movements as he made room for her and laid down on her side facing him. A quiet scoff left him in displeasure, it was indefinitely over how much space she’d left between them, but she didn’t get a chance to say anything before he latched onto her waist and drug her across the sheets until there wasn’t an inch of space between them. Her pulse was racing all over again over his boldness, high or not, he hadn’t been fooling around about wanting to be close to her and as high of a priority as figuring out what it meant was on her list, it’d have to wait until tomorrow.

“Um…goodnight…” she began with uncertainty; she’d figured it’d be uncomfortable to some extent and the lack thereof was strange in of itself, she felt entirely thrown off from how natural it felt.

“Go to sleep.” He muttered unenthusiastically; she sealed her lips, nodding into his chest, his hold on her was so secure that she wouldn’t be able to slip away from him should she want to and trying to argue with him about how he needed space so she didn’t unknowingly brush up against any of the incision sites wouldn’t go over well.

‘Tired.’

Exhausted was the more appropriate term, she was sure she’d manage eight hours at the least tonight and if she was lucky-

“Haruchiyo.”

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, her lips parting in confusion.

“What?” she asked softly; the word came out before she had time to think about the best way to respond, a heavy sigh coming from her companion over her question. 

“Not repeating myself.” He mumbled with a grunt, his voice slightly annoyed; she sealed her lips all over again, her body going limp in his hold when his free hand moved to petting her hair. “Go to sleep, Doctor.”

‘Haruchiyo.’

She took a small step back without so much as thinking about it, another squeak leaving her when her back bumped the wall and his eyes practically lit up with amusement when pink returned to her cheeks the second his thumb traced her bottom lip. The doctor was indisputably at a rock in a hard place, she couldn’t pull herself together when he was so close to her nor could she screw her head on straight long enough to create distance so she could think, he’d only blocked off one side so if she really wanted to, she could slip away from him. She looked up through her lashes to find him staring at her so intensely she could’ve forgotten who she was, his eyes were mesmerizing and as hard of a time as she had maintaining eye contact with him, she continued trying her best to hold it for as long as she could, his eyes were her favorite thing about him. The thought of creating distance disappeared no sooner did it show up, she’d blanked all over again just from staring at him too long, standing her ground against him was looking like a pipedream since she just continued losing her train of thought and the like from that alone. 

“Doctor.” The pink-haired man drawled playfully, his voice coming out lowly; her face flushed hotter, he was hovering closer to her, his gaze zeroed in on her lips, strands of pink slipping over his shoulders and lightly brushing the sides of her face the closer he got.

‘Don’t cave, be strong, don’t cave!’

“N-no, two, only two.” She stammered anxiously; her words didn’t seem to even faze him, a smirk forming on his lips when she batted his hand away from her chin, only for it to slip around to press against the small of her back and tug her right up against him.

‘Oh god!’

She couldn’t fold, no matter how flustered she felt nor how close he was to giving her what would be her very first kiss, she couldn’t give in to what he wanted, and she wouldn’t; he’d overdose and likely die if she gave him forty milligrams in one go. He wasn’t going to give up though, she could see that he was just as stubborn as she herself could be and the only way that she was going to be able to get him to drop it was if she offered some kind of compromise. He was much too determined to get his way so regardless of how dangerous it could be, it was the only thing that she could do, she wouldn’t have to follow through with it once he realized that she wasn’t trying to short him pain relief once the pills kicked in. She just had to word things carefully, make no promises so he couldn’t claim that she’d lied to him once he wasn’t on another planet because he most certainly would be in the next half hour after he took the pills. Her pulse was racing at the feeling of being pressed against him, the blush on her cheeks darkening shade by shade the closer he inched towards her lips, her free hand moving of its own volition to tangle in his shirt, the other resting at his shoulder.

“Haruchiyo.” She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper; his aquamarine orbs were gleaming as he took her in, seeming all too pleased at how close she looked to giving into him.

“Yes, Doctor?” he responded with a hum; she felt like she’d gone completely stupid simply over his hand leaving the wall to cradle her head, white slipping through his fingers as he guided her face closer to his.

“Y-you shouldn’t, we sh-shouldn’t.” she began, her tone anxious; she didn’t know why she’d even bothered speaking words of resistance, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t going to stop just because it stepped outside of the doctor-patient relationship dynamic.

“We shouldn’t.” he repeated quietly, sounding entirely collected; despite agreeing with her, he hadn’t stopped closing the distance, so she knew for a fact that he did not care about trying to maintain whatever professionalism was left between them. “Tell me to stop.”

Yuki was internally screaming at this point and could’ve fainted with how lightheaded she felt, there was no way she could face that challenge head-on nor come out of it victorious if she tried her hardest, it was taking every ounce of her willpower to resist temptation, his lips were hardly three inches from hers. As unbecoming of her profession as it was, she couldn’t force herself to say no, the line had been blurred to the point that having purely a doctor-patient relationship wasn’t possible anymore because she hadn’t kept a businesslike approach to things. She’d been too caught up in whatever infatuation she was feeling towards him and hadn’t been able to turn it off, it’d practically made all of the decisions for her, and it was why she’d wound up in this mess. She should’ve called an ambulance as soon as he was stable after surgery, she shouldn’t have hidden his existence by putting off reopening her clinic after the holiday, she should’ve called the police, she shouldn’t have taken him to her private home, she should’ve done things as a doctor and instead, she’d done things that a desperate teenage girl with a crush would’ve done. She’d opened herself up for this to become what it had and although it was ethically wrong, she was teetering right on the edge of not caring which told her that she absolutelyneeded to take a step back from this, lest she complicate things further for herself.

“You can’t, can you?” he gathered, his voice knowing; the pink on her cheeks spread further across her face, running over her nose and silently answering the question for her.

The white-headed woman wanted to feel ashamed of herself because morally speaking, she should’ve felt some form of guilt, forming relationships with patients wasn’t the norm and, on some level, she did feel the smallest bit of remorse for crossing lines to some degree. She may not have been the one to initiate that first intimate touch, but she didn’t try to stop it either, she’d reciprocated it which made her just as guilty as him. More than anything, she wanted him to close the distance and kiss her, he was already so close that he could do so with ease, but should that boundary be crossed over, she had no guarantees that it would stop with that. Whatever this was between them had been mutual from the get-go, entirely consensual on both sides, he wanted the same thing as she and the only reason he hadn’t gone there yet was because he was waiting for her to say it, he’d pushed her to tell him to stop and she hadn’t. Now, all that was left for him to do was pry the words from her lips and aside from the rough shape he was in, there wouldn’t be anything holding him back.

“W-we shouldn’t.” she repeated with unease, hinting at just how nervous she felt; his expression didn’t falter, reflecting nothing but confidence as he leaned down closer to her.

“You already said that, Doctor.” Haruchiyo pointed out, sounding teasing; she was doing her utmost best to steady her breathes while her fingers curled lightly in his shirt, clinging onto him tighter, his lips were almost brushing hers there was so little space between them. “You don’t mean it.”

He’d called her bluff without batting an eye which just proved without a shadow of a doubt that he did see the way she looked at him, but she couldn’t say it aloud, it would only make it more real if she did, meaning it would only hurt more when he left; she didn’t know how she’d managed to get so attached to a total stranger in less than a week’s time. The woman couldn’t manage anything in response, her throat had fully dried up, and her heart doing summersaults over his soft breathes ghosting over her lips, feeling too scatterbrained to do much of anything except hold his intense gaze.

“You want me to do it for you, huh pretty girl?” he murmured sensually, his hand slid from the small of her back and wrapped fully around her waist to keep her securely pinned against him.

Her heart straight skipped a beat from his words, her pulse going haywire while she gazed up at him longingly, she’d never felt so overwhelmed by her emotions that she felt lightheaded and that was exactly what he’d done to her. The dizzying feeling in her head was only growing stronger the harder she swooned for this man, outside of her friends and her grandmother, no one had ever called her pretty before; she had zero chance to protect herself from heartbreak this far into things, he had her hook line and sinker.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” the pink-haired male breathed, his voice low; Yuki didn’t realize she’d responded to the question until it was too late to stop herself, a barely audible whimper leaving her lips, silently pleading with him to close the distance. “I will, just give me what I want.”

‘What does…?’

“That’s fair, isn’t it Doctor?” he pressed, sounding agreeable to compromise; she waited patiently for a follow-up from him that would clear things up, a curious look in her lavender orbs as she attempted to bring herself back down to earth long enough to piece things together. “Four.”

‘…fuck no.’

Whatever spell he’d cast on her broke in the instant everything connected, her hand pressing against his shoulder to create distance and the other releasing his shirt, a purse forming on her lips while she attempted to slip from his grasp.

“Two.” She retorted, her tone adamant; Haruchiyo’s persona swapped out just as quickly as her own did, looking infuriated that she was still refusing to budge even with his attempts to sway her with his damn seduction tactics, narcotics were something she didn’t play around with, and she was not going to let him be careless with them.

“My tolerance-”

“Isn’t a factor.” She repeated, cutting him off before he could argue with her; she didn’t have much of a choice at this point, she had to offer something else to get him to relent and once he realized that she wasn’t playing around about these pills, he wouldn’t bring this up again. “Two, twenty milligrams every six hours.”

“Doctor-”

“Muscle relaxers in between if it’s not enough.” She interrupted, her voice heavily annoyed; his lips pressed into a thin line as he looked down at her, his hand having released her head and grabbed her forearm when she’d begun making attempts to create space, he wasn’t budging about letting her go. 

‘Stubborn man.’

“Fine.” He huffed, sounding entirely reluctant to agree; she herself let out just as huffy of a breath, her soft face the definition of aggravated, she’d just been thinking minutes previously that he’d try to seduce her into getting his way, she should’ve seen it coming before then.

As gentle as she was, she was heavily considering suffocating the man with a pillow the next time he tried to pull something like this on her even though she wouldn’t make it very far with that, he’d combat her in a heartbeat, high or not. She should’ve known better, and she’d walked right into that one, whatever it was that she felt for him was behind the wheel over half the time and it didn’t help anything that in the rare instances when she was capable of holding composure, he could overpower her with ease if he so wanted to. Her patient wasn’t in the best shape and had still managed to pause her movements, his arm wasn’t budging from her waist, and she couldn’t slip her arm out of his iron grip; there was no doubt that he’d have no problem snapping her neck or strangling her to death should he choose to. 

“Doctor.”

“I need to get your pills.” She muttered in response, keeping her eyes low; she needed to be professional about things, no more caving to his charm or those piercing eyes of his, protect herself from the unavoidable heartbreak that would come from not being guarded. 

His hand retreated from her forearm, the other stayed wrapped securely around her waist without showing any signs that he was going to release her, and she shoved at his chest weakly, not managing to make him budge an inch. She just may attempt to suffocate him; he was practically rubbing in her face that she couldn’t fight him off if she tried her hardest and something inside her was dangerously close to snapping.

“I need to get your pills.” She repeated quietly; she craned her neck back to look up at him as she spoke, trying to remain levelheaded. “If you want them…”

Yuki froze in place no sooner did she look up to find herself face to face with Haruchiyo, her words trailing off when her lavender pools met his aquamarine ones, his free hand moving back to cradling her head, not giving her time to register anything until it’d already happened. Her eyes were blown wide in response and her heart was threatening to leap from her chest, she hadn’t expected him to follow through with kissing her after she hadn’t budged on the number of pills, but he had. He’d closed the distance without giving her a chance to argue with him and pressed his lips to hers without missing a beat, she didn’t know what possessed him to do so nor did she try to come up with answers, she’d gotten her first kiss. She’d just managed to take a handful of his shirt and mold her lips with his a single time before he pulled out of the kiss, a whine leaving her in protest, her eyes fluttering open. A sly little smirk formed on his lips as he stared down at her, keeping just outside of her reach while she regained her bearings, sliding his fingers through the white.

“You only get one.” The pink-haired male spoke; she stared up at him slightly dazed, a dumbfounded look on her face. “You can have another in six hours, Doctor.”

[trash-monkey]

Isekai; My life as a wagon

With heavy eye lids I struggle to open my eyes but once I do I'm blinded by sunlight causing me to wince and quickly shut my eyes, after finally being able to open my eyes properly only to see wild life.

'Uh? THE HELL! WHAT HAPPENED! WHERE AM I!'

I was on a camping trip with the few friends I have which Jack, a happy go lucky guy, finally got me to agree to go with him as he's been bugging me about for days and it didn't take much for Jack to get me to agree as I do love nature myself but not to an extreme like others, it was storming pretty hard that night.

'By the looks of the ground not only it's morning and the storm is over but I don't see anyone or the camp, did they somehow left me behind? This isn't even where we camped.'

The ground before me has many puddles from the storm last night but there's no evidence of any camp being here and people as the forest on my left looks strange with a dirt trail few feet on my right.

'Something isn't right here'

I thought when I finally turn my focus onto my self to finally noticed my vision is wonky and my body isn't responding right although I can look 360 my body isn't turning with my head like it should, I look down to see two long wooden poles with a leather strap holding each end laying down on the ground and by mistake I somehow looked inward on myself to see the back a small wooden wagon which I can see that it has two large wheels on the outside but one is missing.

'no wonder my body isn't responding right, it's because I've because a MOTHER FUCKING WAGON!!!'

I'm in despair at not only I'm somewhere I'm not supposed to be but I've somehow become a small wooden wagon.

'I remember laying down to sleep with a boy named Jack as we where sharing the tent together right has the storm hit and everything after that is blank because I've gone to sleep.'

I think to myself trying to see if there's any explanation in my memories that could explain why and how I've come to be sitting beside a dirt road as a small wooden wagon with a missing wheel but I only come up empty-handed in that regard though, I look inward on myself again to look for any clues that can help only to find out I can only move my wheels left and right.

'It's like both of my legs are amputated and I use prosthetic legs but my left one is missing, it's really odd'

I thought as it's the only way I can explain the feeling I'm having about my wheels but my attention is quickly taken when a familiar but not creature lands on the ground before me, a small bird hops around on the ground and what makes it strange is that it has four legs instead of the usual two. If I have eyes in this form they would have popped out of my skull when seeing a snail although it's bigger then usual skittering across the ground like a Chihuahua as it walks on four legs and have the tiniest little tail making me aww at it's cuteness as it has little babies following behind it, as I don't have anything else to do I watch the wild life around me with wonder as the animals I see here are a mix of two or three of the ones I know of.

'I'm not tried which makes sense for what I am'

Although I've been awake for hours now I don't feel any exhaustion as night falls but it dose make me wander if I can 'sleep' to pass time when I need or want it too, so I try to meditate as it'll be the closest I can get to sleeping but after an hour of trying to meditate only for a animal breaking a stick in the forest snaps what concentration I have.

'Looks like it'll take time for me to learn to fully meditate as I never tried to meditate before so it won't be easy for a while'

A bush rattles a little bit before a small cub rolls out of it as it chases after a bug which two other cubs run after their sibling and it seems every animal in this world is a mix of animals from mine, the cubs have a body of a mountain lion as the head is of a cow and what I can see it's teeth are that of a mountain lion also.

'They're so cute'

I watch them as they play around with the little bug once it's caught but soon the cubs turn their attention onto me once they become bored of the little critter and let it run off as they begin to climb all over me, I started to wonder what they where doing out this late by themselves as I can surprisingly feel their claws digging into the wood of my wagon body but no pain comes with it.

'Wait, it's night and I can still see so I have night vision!!'

Finding out I have night vision helps me feel a little bit better about the situation I'm in as I continue to watch the little creatures play around on my back while making their sounds that is a mixture of a cow and bobcat, suddenly their heads snap to the right which their large ears in the air twitching as they hear something in the distance like deer which a light appears down the dirt road and it's coming closer so the three cubs scattered off back into the woods with a low hiss.

'Someone is coming.....'

_______________________________________________

Inspired by Reborn As A Vending Machine, I Now Wonder The Dungeon and Reborn As A Sword