#but i need to start remembering that those moods are because I tried to draw at 4 am

[peanut-butter-and-theatre]

If I was multilingual, I'd lie to my friends about what I was saying too

[kizzfolio]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤwhen they are in love

ㅤㅤthat ain't no phase, i promise i’ma be the one who stays

엔하이픈ㅤㅤㅤfem!reader  .  non idol au, skinship, fluff  ‹𝟹 proofread !!  526 wc   xo inspo.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤlikes and reblogs are appreciated

HEESEUNG started to like you first, and he managed to hide it for a while, thinking it was just a crush, but after a year, he realized he felt much more than just a crush. then, he couldn't hide how much he was in love with you anymore, anything you did would be a reason for him to sigh in love, he would notice all the little details about you — from the moles on your face to the jewelry you wore every day. he liked to be close to you at all times. he would rest his head on your shoulder, or when you were hugging, he would place his chin on top of your head. little by little, you would notice that he was extra affectionate with you, and it was so obvious that you wondered how you hadn't noticed sooner.

JEONGSEONG soon realizes that he is in love with you, when he starts looking for ways to be close to you, helping you when you need, he treats you with affection and care — he wipes the corner of your lips when you get dirty eating or when an eyelash falls on your cheek and he removes it, whispering something like "cute". when you get closer, jay follows you like a puppy without hiding how much he is in love with you. and he would have the habit of always hugging you, he would want to know your favorite song to learn how to play for you and he would also make a point of preparing your favorite dessert because he simply wants to please you in every possible way.

JAEYUN has been crazy about you since the moment he laid eyes on you, and he's always blabbering about you to the boys to the point where they just tell him to do something about it. he'll always be looking out for you. when the weather is cold and you go out for a latte, he zips up your coat. he can't let you get sick. when you're walking, he respects the sidewalk rule, carefully making you switch places with him when he notices you're walking on the edge. he doesn't like to talk a lot, but that never applies to talking to you, whenever you're babbling on about something you like he listens to you attentively while admiring you with those puppy dog eyes and a goofy smile on his face.

SUNGHOON doesn't know how to show that he likes you, the way he flirts with you is through jokes that leave you confused with the thought that sunghoon doesn't really like you until he finally manages to make you laugh at a joke he told, a smile will appear on his lips instantly and he will smile whenever he remembers the way you laughed, he would even talk to jake about you. he's the type of guy who likes to show off to impress you. at some point, you realize that his jokes are an attempt at flirting and the way his mood changes when he sees you talking to other boys, he gets sulky and tries to draw your attention to himself. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ@kizzfolio

[doki-doki-imagines]

hello! I am the person who requested that reader with a cat who likes the boys a lot if u remember that request.

may I request (if ur not uncomfortable with it) some period comfort with an afab!reader (they/them pls) just taking care and helping reader with their period? if it's not too much can u also include reader sleeping a lot and craving lots of food (typical ik) and how reader just gets mad rlly easily.

characters: bi-han, syzoth, shang tsung, kenshi, raiden and liu kang

thank u and have a good day :) (smiling through the pain)

author note: I'm super late, but I suppose it's better than never. Hope you'll like these! Link to the cat post

Kenshi Takahashi: -He…He can smell when you are on your period. -Actually Kenshi can even tell when it is coming so he is always ready with food when it finally comes. -He tries to keep your pelvis warm and treat you softly since your body gets sore way more easily. -Kenshi goes a bit insane when you're ovulating, so now he is more calm and soft. -He'll try to make your mean comments slide, but it is hard for him, so it's better not to exaggerate, or Kenshi will snap back.

Raiden: -Really sweet and understand your needs. -But Raiden won't be a sticky boyfriend. He has work to do and won't take a day off. -When he finally understands how this period works for you, he will be prepared for the next one. -Your fave food? Check. Warm beverages? Check. Cover and 3 different kinds of movies to match your current mood? Check. -When Raiden gets home tho he is all for you. He likes to put you in his arms and draw circles on your hand, waiting for you to fall asleep on his chest. -Mean words are nothing to him. A king of taking the hit and making it slide off him.

Liu Kang: -"You bastard! Couldn't you erase menstruation while creating this world?" You whine into his arms, cramps making you curl in his body.

"Would you rather lay eggs, dear one?" Liu Kang replies, with a smile on his face, forefinger lifting your chin up to make you look into his brilliant eyes.

"You are just a meanie." You snap back, pushing his face away from yours, making a laughter blossom in his throat. -He tries not to make you eat too much junk food, but he'll back off when you look at him with fury in your eyes. -His body is better than any cover.

Bi-Han: -I'm sorry, but he would be pretty cold. -He was raised in a way that even if you were dying, you should take care of yourself without the help of anybody, so at max, he'll send your way a doctor. -Bi-Han has to work A LOT on being a normal human. He really doesn't know how to work around normal feelings that are outside his field of work. -And the future grandmaster lessons he has been given as a kid never focused on helping his partner out. It is already much that he decided who to be with. -Bi-Han probably knows very little about how menstruation works, mostly because they taught him not to care about other people and just think about how to be the perfect Lin Kuei's leader. -First work on making him act as a decent human, then Bi-Han will even make you a special tea to make your cramps less painful. -And if you look particularly pitiful he may snuck junk food too…

Syzoth: -The first time he saw you losing blood, he panicked because "Why are you losing blood?!?!" -After you explain how things work, Syzoth will let out a breath of relief. -Surprisingly, he understands pretty well that losing blood is a pain, so he doesn't mind following your order like a butler. -Syzoth is gonna snuggle under the covers with you, btw. -Not used to you being mean tho, even if he understands you aren't fine, he still takes those words personally.

Shang Tsung: -Actually, he'd make a potion to make your cramps fade. -But he doesn't do anything for nothing…are you ready to try his next experiments? Maybe the potion isn't as safe as he says. -Shang Tsung satisfies your cravings, but don't nag too much, or he'll get annoyed. -Also, don't be mean, or he will snap back, then you'll start to cry, and actually Shang Tsung has a weakness: your tears. Then he'll have to try to make you stop, but sadly, another mean word slips…it's an endless cycle that makes him think just "Hope this will end soon."

[rungssparemodelpieces]

Dating the Lost Light crew

Swerve

* Swerve does shows signs of being interested in your before dating such as inviting you to parties, getting a shot on the house, and asking what your likes are. It’s very obvious he does like you but he doesn’t act on those feelings and often will backtrack, saying something along the lines of “you should come to movie night, if you want to I mean. If you’re busy, you don’t have to but I’d liked to see you there- as a friend!”.

* You would most likely have to make the first move as Swerve’s been hurt too many times before asking humans and bots alike for companionship. He also needs a lot of reassurance to make sure that you want him, HIM, out of any other bot on the Lost Light and that this isn’t a prank or a draw set up by someone else.

* Swerve needs a partner who’s a great listener because the poor bot just wants to ramble. There’s a twinkle under that visor when you ask him about his favorite movies or stories about his life and when you remember the details or topics he’s told you, he gets very giddy. He could ramble for days and you know it.

* Dating Swerve has its perks when attending his bar with getting drinks for free or at least discounted or being able to work with him, either serving drinks, running themed nights together, or just chatting while he serves others. There is a little running joke between the both of you where you “flirt” with the bartender and he flirts back, asking him drink recommendations or to play a certain song for you to dance for him.

* Swerve likes to test drinks by you as he’s been making his own Engex and if you’re human, he learns how to make alcohol so you can drink with everyone else. He even tries to teach you how to make a few classics but whether you succeed or fail, at least you have a prize at the end of booze or he passes it onto an unfortunate bot.

* Swerve has a habit of starting a song he knows you know during an argument or venting as you automatically have to start singing the next part which at first upset you but soon realized that it helped to take whatever or whoever made you anger or sad with focusing on something else, such as continuing the song. As much as you grow frazzled with this antic, you thank him afterwards for the redirection.

* Movie nights are mandatory dates with Swerve though sometimes it becomes full on movie nights where other bots are invited to drink, snack, and have fun. During movie dates, Swerve likes to have you cuddled up close to him so if you happen to fall asleep, he can have you rest against his chassis. If you’re human, he’ll gently try to move the hair out from your face so he can see you sleepy face.

* If you are human, Swerve does nerd out, asking about certain trends on Earth, new media, and about your life before ending up in space with them. He often hangs out with you in his holoform so you feel more comfortable around the ship and it makes it easier to cuddle in the berth or on date nights, If you’re a bot, Swerve has a curated guide to Terran culture and media, finding things you might like together. He evens helps you design a holoform to counterpart his for shore leave, going for a Jessica Rabbit to his Roger Rabbit feel.

NSFW

* Swerve has a praise kink and is a very vocal bot. He likes to compliment you when you take his spike or takes little moments to praise you when he’s helping you to prepare for his girth. He can interface in either holoform or regular from though it depends on the mood.

* Swerve isn’t a fan of gagging, but can be down for other fetishes as long as you talk about it first. You have interfaced at Swerve’s before, numerous times in face, though you keep that to yourselves as if Ultra Magnus knew, he would shut it down so fast for health code violations.

[ziyuanyuan1113]

I am in love with your art style. I love all your jjk art, it’s like stitching back the pieces of my shattered heart. Your art is so soothing and has such a warm feel, I love it. Also if you don’t mind me asking what program do you use for your art, and do you have any tips? I strive to someday create art that gives the same feeling of comfort as yours. Thank you <3

Thank you so much for the kind message! I'm actually in the middle of making another jjk piece but it's been a while so I've been trying to remember and consolidate my process. This ask came at a great time hehe

I use photoshop for most of my art pieces but I think there are a lot of cheaper alternatives (procreate on Ipad, clipstudio paint, medibang etc) that would work just as well. As for tips, I have a technical and an emotional one:

My technical tip would be to use references!! Especially if you're just starting out, it's SO IMPORTANT imo for catching mistakes especially with anatomy, lighting and perspective. And by reference I mean real life photos. I think you can be inspired by other artists' work, but there is the danger of picking up their bad habits if you only use their work for reference. I would recommend sticking mainly to real life and looking to other artists only for resolving specific stylistic details once you have a solid grasp of your fundamentals.

I would start with a rough sketch first of whatever you want to draw and then look for refs that match the mood and tone you want to go for. Get the idea down first and draw from the heart. Then the refs come in to help with the specifics (ex. what a window looks like, how someone would hold a cigarette) The jump from the rough to the clean line version is an amalgamation of all the little things you learn along the way. For example, on one day, I learned that clothing folds usually start at one point and spread out. Then another day, I learned how to do 1 point perspective and so on and so forth. Then all those tidbits slowly add up to help you get better and better.

2. My second tip would be to understand what you want to convey with your artwork. If it's fanart, what about the media that you're interacting with draws you in? It doesn't always need to be a complex answer, sometimes you just want to draw a character because you think they're hot and that's totally valid imo.

I occasionally tutor very young artists and oftentimes, they will tell me that they want to draw like X artist or X painting/piece of media. I always try to encourage them to go deeper. What about that drawing resonates with them and what specifics are occurring in the picture to make them feel that way? For example, I recently realized I love environment heavy drawings not for the background itself but because they ground the characters and seeing them do mundane things makes them feel more real to me.

For the example below, the whole set was to explore friendship and mental health. Sometimes just having someone there who listens and is willing to talk with you can make a huge difference.

Once you know the purpose of your art, then I think it makes the decision making for the rest of the process much easier. What type of lighting scenario conveys support and comfort? I went with dusk. Then I started searching up references for dusk lighting. Couldn't find the ref I actually used for colour but a quick google will show you lots of similar options.

What kind of poses feel in character for Shoko vs Geto? What is the focus of the picture? As much as I love details, I think sometimes they can actually take away from the main message. For example, if I had rendered the lamp on the right a lot more, it would've distracted from the main point of the picture so I tried to keep that and the background in general simple (still something I need to improve on haha).

Then those extra technical things (value structure, cool vs warm light, reflective lighting, connotations behind colours) you pick up along the way are all there to help you better communicate what you want to convey with your art.

Okay I lied one more tip, be patient and learn to appreciate the process. Like with any skill, there are a lot of technical aspects that you have to study and practice. I think because the end result is so visual and easily accessible in comparison to other hobbies/jobs, it really cripples beginners. Even with writing, you won't realize a book is good until you learn how to read. With art, you can resonate with a painting without having drawn a single line yourself.

I think beginners and even professionals see a lot of beautiful finished artwork and get enticed by that only to be discouraged when they find their process/finished work didn't end up the way they wanted it to look. Treat it like you would learning how to write. The fundamentals can be tedious and do take time to drill into your head, but learning them will help you SO MUCH with the creative fun parts. You can't write a poem without first taking the time to learn the alphabet, spelling and grammar. You're also probably going to write a bunch of shitty poems before you write that one good one, but that's okay because each piece lets you experiment and exercise your voice. Art is the same thing, don't rush it! Enjoy the process and celebrate your improvements.

[the-grey-hunt]

Minovember week 2: Pets, Home, Favorite Trick

another 2/3 fill (well, maybe 3/3 if you stretch) with Jowd's favorite trick of "quick, change the subject before this conversation goes somewhere I'd have to be too honest about"

“Hey, Dad,” Kamila said. “Is Sissel ever going to grow up?”

Only an expert could have seen the faint choke in Jowd’s throat before he answered, tone entirely casual. “Why, do you need a better pet?”

“What? No!! Sissel’s the best!”

Jowd laughed at Kamila’s genuine outrage. “I’m only teasing you, cannonball.” It had been a nice evening so far, and he didn’t want to dim the mood with a discussion of why, exactly, Sissel was never going to grow older. Cabanela had come over, and Lynne had stayed after her babysitting time was over to keep playing with Kamila, and they were all gathered companionably in the living room on various rugs and comfortable furniture.

Sissel was snoozing away on his cat tree. Jowd didn’t try to get his attention; he wasn’t sure whether or not Sissel was really present. The cat’s ghostly presence tended to fade a little when he tried to sleep, in the same way it did when he took the phone to visit his other friends.

“But is he really ‘the best’?” Jowd teased some more, when Kamila pouted at him. “I seem to remember when you were little you always wanted a pony.”

“That’s not fair,” Kamila complained, slumping back to lie on the floor where she’d started. “That was before we had Sissel, and we don’t have anywhere to put a pony anyway, so I couldn’t have one even if I did want to.”

“So if we had a stable in our backyard, you’d accept a pony for Christmas?” Alma cut in, amused. 

“Mommm...” Kamila tickled Alma’s stocking foot in revenge, making Alma yelp and yank her legs up, out of Kamila’s reach. 

“Say you could have any pet in the world,” Jowd said. “Imagine you’ll automatically have everything you need to take care of it. What would you pick?”

Kamila looked sideways, put her face in the carpet, and mumbled, “A pony.” Alma shoved a pillow over Cabanela’s face to muffle his laughter for him. Lynne had no such help, and when she snorted, Kamila leaped to her feet again to put her hands on her hips and glare down at Lynne. “Well, what would you pick?”

“A parrot,” Lynne said immediately.

Kamila wrinkled her nose. “Why a parrot? They’re so noisy.”

“That’s the point, you can talk to them!” Lynne sat up, too, abandoning the schematics she and Kamila had been lying on the floor to draw together. Jowd never had any idea what they were designing, but luckily most of the plans were too elaborate to exist in real life. “And they live for a long time so they’ll be your companions forever.”

“That’s ooonly fun until you have to will your pet to someone when you’re too old to take care of ‘em,” Cabanela pointed out.

“Oh, you’re just sore from that case last month.”

Jowd knew Lynne and Cabanela had both been assigned to take care of some kind of animal hoarding situation. Why Cabanela was there for the SIU was anyone’s guess—Jowd wasn’t in the SIU, so he hadn’t asked. 

“What about you?” Kamila asked Cabanela. “If you could have any pet, what would it be?”

“Mmmm...invisible tiger,” Cabanela said, leaning back in thought. “No hairs sheddin’ all over my coat, aaand, it’ll go off and hunt by itself for its own food.”

“That’s not a real pet!”

“Suuure it is, baby, it’s an animal.”

Kamila stomped her foot. “It’s not a pet you could really have. Tigers aren’t invisible, and you’re not taking this seriously!”

“All right, all riiight. I’m taking it seriously.” Cabanela steepled his hands and fixed his gaze on the ceiling, to all appearances deep in thought. Jowd resisted the urge to sneak and tickle his foot. “...Penguin. Let me finish!” when Kamila opened her mouth. “Like one of those adopt-a-star programs where it's yours but it lives off somewhere else. It can live in the zoo where there are people who’ll take care of it properly, but I’ll come by and pet it and make sure it’s havin’ fun.”

“Because it’s black and white?” Alma asked in playful suspicion. “You’re forgetting the part where you’ll have the magical ability to take care of it perfectly well.”

“And what would yooou choose, baby?”

“That’s easy,” Alma said. “A cat.”

“Mrrup!” Sissel was there, his flame burning back into evidence like a radiator warmth on the back of Jowd’s neck, and he announced his approval. He jumped down to patter across the room, letting Kamila stroke a hand over his back on the way, and climbed into Alma’s lap to settle back down with a purr.

“See, I told you,” said Kamila. “Sissel’s the best.”

“I can’t argue with that.” And Jowd never would.

[rendy-a]

Luck of the Draw

@writingforatwistedworld

An author I read recently expressed interest in reading what others would write about her Self-Aware TWST AU. This is a fan piece I've written for that AU. Check out more of their Masterlist here!

AU summary: When downloading TWST, an error occurs resulting in the game using data from your phone to fill in blanks in the TWST program.  As a result, all the Self-Aware TWST cast view you as the mythical Overseer of legend and develop a yandere level obsession with you.

I was in the middle of painting the roses but…I guess I can’t turn you away if you need something.  You frowned slightly at the line.  When your friend told you about Twisted Wonderland, you had dismissed it as another phone game in the sea of phone games.  Your friend was so persistent though, that you eventually let them talk you into it.  When you agreed to download the game, your friend had nearly vibrated with joy and immediately gone into advisor mode; telling you tips and handing out suggestions for when you started the game.  “You know, everyone has a Riddle or Leona card to borrow.  If you think about it, Trey is the smart choice for those defense tests.”  So, when the time came for your free SSR roll, you had taken their advice and re-rolled for Trey.

You know it’s only a game but occasionally you feel like you’ve made the wrong choice.  Sometimes when you logged into the game, you enjoyed seeing Trey all dressed up in the bright Heartslabuyl uniform.  Only, then he’d say his voice line and it had a way of rubbing you the wrong way.  He was just so…pushy.  Tea Parties and croquet matches are both special, traditional events in Heartslabyul.  As the vice dorm leader, I have to work hard for them.  So, give me some praise, ok?  You scoff and say lightly, “Great job Trey.  Those roses sure are extra red today.”  Maybe it is your imagination, but it feels like he smiles even brighter when you say that.

Then there are times where the mood feels terribly awkward.  You’d only agreed to try this game because your friend insisted that it wasn’t a dating game but when Trey offers you certain greetings…it makes you so uncomfortable.  I like hats, so I have several of them.  This one is a special one I had custom made to match our dorm uniform.  I’d be happy to have one made for you so we can match.  You offer what feels like a forced chuckle to the screen, “Maybe next time.”  It felt an awful lot like turning down a classmate you had no romantic interest in but still had to see at school.

You mentioned it to your friend and they laugh.  “You must be talking about Malleus.  Everyone says his lines feel borderline romantic.”  When you clarified that you meant Trey, they gave you a weird look.  “I don’t remember anything like that…”  You opened the game and tried to show your friend but the lines you could trigger seemed far more mundane than what you’d been experiencing.  You clicked back and forth from lessons to home several times to try to trigger one of the strange dialogs but to no avail.  It was just eerie.

The next day, you decided to keep a notepad and pen by your bed, so you could write down some of the crazy things you hear from Trey when you log in.  And, come morning, he does not disappoint.  There's nothing better than wearing clothes you are comfortable in.  Except maybe having friends that make you comfortable.  If your friends are making you uncomfortable, you can always come to me instead.  This one was new, even to you.  You gave your device a raised eyebrow and jot down the line.  Then you drag your phone with you to the bathroom (lessons can run while you do your morning routine!) and start brushing your teeth.  You almost spit out your toothpaste on the floor when your random gacha draw pulled a Dorm Leona card.  You thank the gacha gods; now you can swap out your home screen character without feeling disloyal to your SSR’s.

You talked with your friend at school and they seemed extra freaked out for you but, honestly, you feel much better.  You’d just push your strange Trey card to the back of your roster and never think about his creepy voice lines again.  Leona was a fresh breeze of air pushing the past few weeks of troubles from your mind.  You logged in far more than usual today, just to hear his new lines.  Before bed, you pressed your lips to your screen, wishing your new favorite a good night.  Things were so much better with your new man in your life and Trey was just like a bad memory.

The morning was not what you expected.  You opened the game to find Trey back on your home screen.  You looked at it in alarm as he greets you with a stern look.  You are coming to our next Unbirthday Party.  I’ll be waiting to hear what you think of my preparations for you.  It feels almost sinister.  You move to stand from your bed but find yourself unexplainably weak.  You tumble to the floor, your head resting near your phone.  The last thing you see is the ever-widening smile of Trey.  “I’ll see you soon, dearest Overseer.”

[quinloki]

Hi Quin!

I wanted to pitch in here and say That I’m so happy you dropped the aftercare series ! I was going actually put in a request for an aftercare series for kinktober but I believe I already have asked about it in your “Kid Pirates Sideblog.” Anyways very happy to see how that this series was dropped I appreciate your hard work! Need to go back and read some of those fics for more context hope you don’t mind if I read the aftercare series beforehand.

I too have experienced that Drop for sure. At the end of summer I went to an Anime/Cosplay themed rave and that drop hit me like a huge truck, it took me at least a day to recover. I had the feeling like I was a ghost or “feeling out of my body” and I remember being quite sad that it was over and probably have to wait a whole other year for the next one 😫.

This kind of leads me to a weird question. Is it possible to experience “The Drop” when writing a really good smut? Because I tried to write to write this one Drabble that came out at the top of my head this week and I almost started sobbing while writing it 😭 and that was only after a few sentences.

-🌕

Oh yeah, The Drop can hit for a lot of reasons.

Top Drop and Sub Drop are common phrases in the community because the intensity of most kink sessions - even non-sexual ones - make it common enough that people talk about it more.

But mood drops aren't just for depressed folks, outside of kink. You can experience highs and lows naturally, of course, and Drops are usually to reference a sudden shift. Depression and anxiety and other mental illnesses or situations might make you more prone to them, but no one's immune.

Being able to recognize them helps, but you could certainly experience a drop while writing, or drawing, or gaming, etc. Hells, people experience it after reading something or watching something they really enjoyed. If you've ever finished a book and then wondered what the hell you were going to do with yourself now, that's a kind of drop.

The more you can recognize them, the more you can sort out how to navigate through them. What might end your reserves for a full day or two now, may only need a 20 minute break or a shower in the future and then you can get back to things.

I think the key is just realizing that no matter when it hits, or how strongly it hits, it's not a flaw. It's not a fault. It's just an event, and it will pass.

[mandyspeaks]

How is BPD created from a BPD perspective

In my experience BPD is created through fundamental abandonment trauma, particularly with family. I can give an example to show how this functions.

Let’s imagine Betty lives on a planet far away, where it is customary for family members to always shake hands when they see each other. Betty sees other families doing this all the time. She sees her own family members shaking hands with each other. Yet for some reason, none of the family members will shake Betty’s hand. They simply refuse to and ignore her when she tries. Eventually Betty gives up trying.

When you’re a child, you often don’t have enough context for how healthy families work, to know that there’s anything dysfunctional about yours. In this case, the child is more likely to draw the painful conclusion that they are the problem. It’s not the adults for refusing to shake her hand, she must not be worthy of it. She internalizes this shame as a permanent core sense of self when relating to the world. She enters the world through the filter of “I’m not worthy. There is something inherently wrong with me.”

Later in life Betty falls in love and enters a romantic relationship. She finally has someone who will shake her hand upon greeting like she always wanted. Which possibly contradicts her feeling that she is not worthy.

For this reason her ego will hold on to this romantic partner in a way that idolizes them. They’re not just bringing her love, they’re validating her entire sense of selfhood.

One day her partner is in a bad mood and does not shake her hand upon entering their home. For couples that grew up in healthy homes, this would happen from time to time and be forgivable.

For Betty, she is actually reliving her childhood trauma of being denied a handshake. Her partner is not intending to hurt her, and cannot understand the seemingly disproportionate reaction.

Betty’s body is remembering all of the exact same sensations she went through when her own family would refuse to shake her hand. She is actively experiencing a PTSD flashback. On top of that, the experience is validating her core sense of shame and unworthiness.

Someone she once saw as someone totally different from those who betrayed her, is now acting the same way. To Betty, she feels like she cannot escape this pattern, because deep down, she is not worthy of having her hand shook.

Betty is in so much emotional turmoil during this flashback that she says angry and somewhat hurtful things to her partner. Her thoughts are racing and she feels like a hurt child again. In the moment, she feels that she is doing what she can to reveal this deep seated pain to her partner, which is so painful that it comes out laced with anger and betrayal that is not solely from this moment, but decades deep. She isn’t just speaking to her partner in this moment, she is speaking to her family members who neglected and abandoned her.

Betty tells her partner she doesn’t want to speak to them anymore. Betty does not feel she is worthy of having her needs met, so she has to find another way to get them met. By pushing her partner away, part of her hopes that they will “realize” the truth of her pain and validate it. But her partner doesn’t understand why she is having such a strong reaction.

Eventually the PTSD flashback will fade away and for Betty it will feel like she is coming down off of a bad drug mixed with an angry panic attack. and Betty’s rational mind will start to see the situation as it is. For a BPD person an argument can feel like waking up with a bad hangover and seeing you texted your ex, but worse. It’s waking up to reality and seeing you have said things you know are unreasonable and pushed away the one person who showed you love.

The truth of BPD is that to an outsider, our behavior may seem unreasonable and difficult. But to that person, there are many layers of trauma and context that have led to these specific rejections being profoundly painful, especially when coming from someone you love.

[definegodliness]

Swinging

Short story (1282 words).

I was having breakfast at Bob's Intercontinental Swinging Club, as I tend to do, each Saturday morning. They've got great home-made sandwiches. Horrendous coffee, though.

I suspect Donna, Bob's wife, reheats the leftover coffee from the day before, to then add some fresh brew, that is so criminally strong it'll have a spoon standing upright in your mug, to mask the taste. Any taste.

Still, Bob's is the only place I know where you can still smoke indoors, so what do I care. I was just about to start my second sandwich, when I saw Bob waft through the streaks and plumes of nicotine blue, approaching my window side table.

"Hey, Bob."

He sat down at my table. Bob never has to ask. I offered him a cigarette, which he denied. And from his front-side pocket he fetched a small box of cigarellos. He lit one with a match, inhaled deeply, and, then, let out a big, tear-inducing column of a sigh. He was evidently feeling heavy, so I tried to lighten the mood:

"Damn, Biff — I call him Biff because Bob looks like Old Man Biff from the Back to the Future movies — what do they put in those; asphalt and conifer?"

This caused a faint smile, before he took another pensive draw.

"So, eh, how's business?", I leaned forward over the table, interested, and immediately drew back due to my elbows sticking to yesterday's beer.

"Not great, McFly, not great."

"Yeah, I noticed customer amounts dwindling. What is up with that?", I lifted my sandwich off the plate, "Can't be these, Donna still aces them."

"No, no. People still love those. And you can smoke indoors. The cafeteria's fine, but I just can't seem to get people excited for swinging anymore."

"Ludicrous. I can't think of anything more exciting."

I closed my eyes and thought of yesterday's Friday Swinging Night, letting a grin curl my mouth. I don't know if I spoke or whispered.

"It's just so… satisfying."

For sure, though, I then once more leaned forward over the table, overcoming its stickiness for the sake of importance. And, solemnly, I added:

"Come on, Biff, I'm sure it's just a temporary slump. I've been coming here for years and years. Swinging is timeless. I know it's different, now, then when Pops started in the 60's, but when you took over, the club went intercontinental. That's a great feat. Besides, I mean, I'm half this club's age, but you and Donna picked me up, and pulled me into swinging. I'm sure we can do this for the next generation."

"Frankly, Mark — wait, no McFly? — I think that's the problem."

"¿Que?"

"Guys, like you… you are the problem."

I spat out my coffee.

"Awful, isn't it?

"Yes", I muttered, wiping my mouth with my palm, to then swiftly and frantically brush the coffee grounds from my teeth with my index finger.

"But I am also shocked! How can you say such a thing? I'm your most loyal customer. AND your friend."

"You're also very conservative."

"That's not true. I was the first to laud you for omitting Family Swings. I am definitely not for everything staying the same."

"Yeah, but that's just because they made you queasy…"

I pulled an ugly face, thinking of Family Swings. Horrible occasions. I didn't need to say a thing. Bob was right.

And so he continued:

"… So don't act like you're all progressive. You always go for the same. Hey, the older they get, the more you love 'em."

"What can I say? I like mine vintage. They feel better. Move better."

I leaned backwards and crossed my arms.

"They make better noises, too. Heck, they make sound, Bob! Do you know how unsatisfying silence is?"

Bob frowned, and shook his head. Clearly unimpressed by my arguments. So I continued my passionate plea:

"I mean, come on, you know I'm loud. Don't you know how awkward I feels when I'm alone at that? I need them to be louder than me!"

Bob just took another draw of his cigarello and blew out a deep sigh of disappointment.

"They don't make noise, because you never play with them."

He put out his cigarello as a statement.

"Don't you remember how you were when you first came here? Like a kid in a candy store. You tried them all. Loved them all. Here you can't even remember how silent Jessica was, until you were all over her. Now, she's the loudest of them all."

"Yeah, that's why she feels mine. That's why I keep returning", I weaselled, unwisely.

"That is so against swinging culture."

"All right, all right. I take that back. I just like my 90's baby a lot. But you know I also love my 80's baby Stella, and Tiffany…

Bob interrupted me.

"That's exactly my point! You only go for the older ones. The one's that've been here for years!"

I, however, was already too far gone. Lost in recalling Fridays. Thinking about my favourites: 60's baby's, 50's, 40's, 30's… 20's! Listing all their names. Until I, in my excitement, named that one name who should not be named.

By me, that is.

"Huberta! Oh, Huberta. Sure, she's wobbly and creaks a little, but…"

Bob slammed the table.

"You know you're no longer allowed near Huberta!"

"Ah, come on. Why not? Still not?"

"You broke her."

"Nothing a little titanium couldn't fix..."

He threw his hands in the air, anguished at this statement.

"I'm not having this." Then, louder, and to the kitchen: "Donna! I'm not having this! Can't talk to the kid."

"Just tryyy it."

He grunted.

"All right, listen. I see you sneaking around Huberta while you know she's off limits. Off. Limits. And you know what? All those names you just listed. Off limits. All. Off. Limits."

Bob waved his finger at me, the jolly fellow had never scolded anyone like this. Let alone myself. It was only now I understood he was really, really pissed. So, I did the only thing I could do. I apologized. Shut my mouth. And listened.

And, luckily, after I said sorry, Bob calmed a bit.

"Look, it's always the same with you. I appreciate your patronage and dedication to the club, but you use those poor things up. You have at them, and at them, and at them, until you break them. I know it's all out of your limitless swinging enthusiasm, but you are giving the club a bad name. Really, you are, Mark. In fact, we've come known as: not safe."

I sat silently, guiltily, trying to stir the spoon in my coffee.

"Am I banned now?"

"Nah, McFly, I wouldn't ban you. But I'm begging ya, just try the new ones. Play with them. See, Hailey for instance, she's our newest addition; been here for over a week, and I've never seen you even look at her."

Bob stood up and patted my shoulder.

"Do me a favour, will ya? Just try her. I'm sure you'll have lots of fun. You'll be coming back for more just like you did with Jessica."

"Hailey, eh?" I nodded.

And, so, I slumped to Bob's Intercontinental Swing Club's latest model, Hailey 2023. Silently muttering to myself. She was perfect. Far too perfect for me. But I hopped onto her, strapped myself to her — what a bullshit safety feature — and took a couple of steps backward. Shoes tipping over soft rubber tiles, another safety precaution. I rolled my eyes, thinking:

'It's a goddamn swing.'

I craved the element of danger the older models give me, and as I let Hailey 2023 launch me, steadily, and silently; back, and forth, smoothly, I uttered a reluctant:

"Whee."

---

30-8-2023, M.A. Tempels ©

[lancerfay]

So I got a bit carried away with stuff this week, had some bad news, had some real bad news, then some good things, and through it all I was making stuff. Which is, honestly what's keeping my mood up is that I can still create and try things that succeed.

So my boss at my new job was very very kind and gave everyone whole christmas hams (each) for the holidays, I was, super unsure what to do with it for a week, but came to the idea of making little hand pies, then I could bring some into work still, go thru the ham, and eat maybe a little healthier. So I took a vodka pie crust recipe and stuffed those into my cupcake pan with some fried shallots, brie, and the ham itself, all into little cupcake sized ham and cheese pies and oh my god. They were delicious. While I was at it (technically before) I also made the pudding pies from the recipe in Awaria, Vanripper's new game (Helltaker dev) about sapphically kissing ghosts. Unsurprisingly, vanilla pudding filled pies were addictive and not only did I eat all of those in like two days. I also ate all the ham and cheese ones in like four...

On to model stuff though.

Vtuber Stuff

So I have a few ways I've rendered models as I get better. The first one (android) uses a bit of a cel-shaded style that I felt was good enough at the time, and I tried for softer more regular shading on the cowgirl model later on. For the moth here, I wasn't sure what exactly I was going to do for the skin and clothing, but I knew I had an idea for the hair so I started there. I took a look at stuff like Arcane and how they render hair, looking at my cowgirl model again, and then just kinda combining them. I ended up with a really gritty, messy render with chalky looking outlines and I kinda dig it.

Also yes her hair IS very reminiscent of Vi, I realized that far too late to want to change it because unfortunately that's just also been my hair irl for like 6 years so we can all fight over it I guess... From the hair, after I got to this point, I was thinking, wow, I wonder what those brushes would look like when I did shading, because sticking to a soft airbrust was contrasting weirdly with the hair rendering, and I was still staring at Arcane screenshots and stills and going "... I wonder..." which is where I ended up going off.

Obviously, I can't go fully into the painterly direction like Arcane does. The way that vtuber models move - and my future plans for this model and how I need it to move - would mean that level of specificity just wouldn't work out long term. That in mind I've struct a balance between clearly visible brushmarks visible in the shading and texturing, coverage, and color simplicity. It's always important to remember with vtuber models to imagine it sitting at less than 1/4th your screen size down in the corner. I used to have these marks be less pronounced, but they were indistinguishable at scale that would actually matter. Think of it exactly like contour makeup. It's there for the scene you're seeing it in! Not for zooming way in on the face at close detail all the time.

Anyways I think it kicks ass, the skull motif in the shading comes through and the colors of everything blend well with the brush I was using to make a kind of edgy look that fits her hairstyle and aesthetic.

For today (Tuesday) I actually spent most of it running errands and fixing my phone by replacing its broken screen (success though). So I didn't do much work at all on this other than some inner mouthparts - which are a secret - and then stylematching the eyes to this new render style. I added some texturing to the larger parts of the eye like the sclera and irises, and reshaped the shinies to be sharper. I think overall it looks really distinct and interesting! Once all these head parts and inner mouth parts are done, I want to go into live2D with them and get that rigged before I move on to the body. Not for any particular reason other than I want to see how much more I'll need to draw for the head toggles to look how I imagine them, so I want to just get started ASAP.

Past those, I was working on commissions, which is, by my own policy, a no-sharing kinda thing (reminder my commissions are open:tm:). So here you go with the bonus doodle. Mothgirl Fay in sorta chibi-er proportions! (Idk what to call this)

[chewbokachoi]

Trying to get back into bullet journaling and I think I finally figured out why I'm so bad at keeping track of things, which is I never "look back" in my planners.

So I tried a new thing! Pics and blabberings below the cut.

So this is the start of the month--instead of having my monthly spread at the start, it's at the "very end." If it turns out I need notes or something else, those can go after it because it may just be a "thought catching" thing or mood tracker notes, which I have to go back and check for my therapist.

And then what a weekly spread-proper would look like:

So you'll see each week has a tab to make it easy to turn the pages. I've realized there's no point in me tracking a bunch of things like mood, habits, etc on the weekly spreads because a) I don't look back apparently and b) I don't always know what's gonna happen and then it' stressful to fail for two weeks. So, instead, just the week, the notes and things to remember for next week.

My "next level" of things to track for the month--thought vomit on the back of the finished week, and then an un-foldable thing. This is to help counter the not looking back thing. For this month I have writing, crafting, drawing, and "other" for any other goals that float to the surface. And then behind that...

We have my mood tracker, which I took inspiration from here. My moods can cycle faster than a day's mood, but this is a decent "at a glance" thing, and if I have to, I can have the dots fit within the confines of the dotted-boxes. (.35mm pens FTW) I also have the PT tracker because I'm shit at that as well as other things I'd like to just try and do more often.

It "looms" over everything in front of it so I'll remember to use it. Also I'm a child and like pretty colors, so I'm more inclined to go "ooooo what this" every time I see the rainbow.

And then we have the monthly forecast/planner thing that I took from Frankenlog.

It isn't filled out yet, but I may do a thing at the end of the month with my list covered up.

[dejavante]

heartworm | myg

synopsis: "Life always presented unexpected twists and turns; that much was always pretty much guaranteed and inevitable. But you never expected to fall in love with the man held captive in the old snow globe you found in your grandmother’s attic following her passing. If only you’d known your time together was limited, you probably would’ve spent less time throwing snarky and sarcastic remarks his way and would’ve instead confessed the feelings of your heart. It’s been weeks since his disappearance now, and you still can’t adjust to the void he’s left in your life. And no amount of wishing and praying over that snow globe will bring him back…"

↳ pairing: yoongi x reader

↳ genre: modern fantasy type AU! | fluff | a dash of angst but nothing that will have you balling your eyes out, lol

↳ word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is just a little drabble that I've been sitting on for a while now. I've been pretty uninspired lately and haven't been able to finish any of my longer pieces, so I thought maybe I should start off small. I say small, but this drabble is 2.1k words long... anyways, enjoy!

masterlist | asks

You'd hated this place from the moment your grandmother had bought it. There was something about the heavy musk of mould, and the nauseating rose air freshener that your nana would use to camouflage the stench that had you wrinkling your nose in distaste. Or perhaps what repelled you the most was the tedious hike up the cliff that left your legs aching for days to come and the old rickety front door that banged against the frame during its battle with the wind.

While it's true that you'd never done much to hide your dislike of your grandmother's home before, you'd found that there was an unusual calmness to the raging sea – something in its temperamental rocking and in its ruthless habit of violently crashing against the ridged boulders of the coast that painted an odd likeness of tranquillity.

You sit back in your seat with an airy sigh, fingers twisting into the worn material of the blue sweater you don as a means to preserve heat – though this wouldn't be much of a problem if only you could find the strength to tear away from the turbulent scenery to grab the comforter off your bed.

But alas, you can't seem to let your focus stray from the smudged window, not for the growing numbness in your fingers and certainly not for the fatigue that weighs down on you.

For every moment over the last few weeks that you couldn't express your agitations, the storm raging outside granted you a moment of much-needed relief. It helped in soothing the burning flame within, taming your sullen mood.

Your eyes flicker over to the crooked shelf above your bed, sifting through the trinkets you didn't have the heart to throw away before finding what you're looking for. The glass dome of the snow globe has long since lost its shine. Now, it no longer glistens under the dim lighting of the room with the thick blanket of dust that clings to its surface.

At some point, looking at it had become too hard. Remembering the gummy smile that would smile at you from over the glass dome or the baritone voice that droned on about the snowy scenery within, stopped giving you solace and became more like a nightmare. As a result, those nostalgic and intimate moments attached to the snow globe became more fragile than the thin sheen of glass that encircled the world within.

Perhaps that's why you chose to place it on that particular shelf. Because during another day of self-prescribed bed rest, you knew that you couldn't catch sight of that empty snow globe – remembering hurt too much. Although you'd wager that forgetting would amount to equal amounts of pain.

It's a loud clap of thunder that draws you from your long reverie, shooing away the clouds of gloomy thoughts and replacing them with a deep-seated feeling of longing. And oddly, it's in that flicker of emotion that you tried so hard to repress that you finally find the motivation to do more than just mope — to finally confront the reality that you'd been running away from for weeks now. So, with a sigh that is sodden with reluctance and dejection, you urge yourself to move, gaze remaining keenly focused on the object of your affections as you swing your legs off of the window seat and push yourself up.

The aged floorboards creak beneath your weight as you pad sluggishly across the room, singing atrociously off-key until you reach the foot of your bed and crawl on top of the unmade mess of sheets.

You barely manage to untangle yourself from the bedding as you tentatively reach out for the snow globe, allowing your fingers a moment to dance over the dome of glass. The signs of neglect disappear under your touch, and you hoped, a foolish tendency you knew, that as the strings of dust melted away to reveal a clearer view of the snowy scenery within, there would be a change of fate.

But your hope for his return had proved to be futile. Because, yet again, that lone piano sits in the snowy square awaiting a master that will never return to it. Likewise, you wait for a love that slipped through your fingers too early.

Yoongi was far from a perfect man — that much he'd expressed and admitted to you himself on multiple occasions. It was hard to get along with him initially, not with how frantic and frustrated he was with finding an escape from his curse now that he was free from his snow globe prison. And somewhere within his state of near insanity, it wasn't difficult to see that he was simply afraid of being forced to endure that solidarity all over again with no second chance at freedom.

"I'm not scared," He'd bite back, his tone bordering that of a petulant child about to have a tantrum. "You try being holed up in there for so long,"

Though oddly enough, Yoongi would wax poetics about the internal structure of the globe despite his hatred for being trapped within it. With high, frosty skies, bright strung lights, and a mellow atmosphere fabricated for the sole purpose of carrying the soft melody of his piano, he'd said that it bordered perfection.

"It's the sort of place that you share with someone," Yoongi had once explained softly. "It's not built for solidarity,"

The day he disappeared still resonates clearly in your mind as if it'd only occurred yesterday. It plagued your sleep and daydreams, relentlessly taunting you for the words you never dared confess out of fear. Not until it was too late, at least.

You weren't sure why you kept doing this to yourself. It was a system of torture to continue clinging to the idea that perhaps if you fed the snow globe enough of your tears, prayers, and affections, some sort of miracle would happen. Because each and every time, you were left disappointed and with another crack that the fragile mess of your heart was forced to bear during its futile battle against hope. Heaven knows you couldn't handle another battle, not with how close you were to shattering.

The sheets rustle underneath your movement as you shift to sit back on your haunches with the globe cupped securely within the warmth of your palms. For a moment, you're unsure of what to do, the unfamiliarity of the situation finally dawning upon you as you stare intently at the object of your affections.

You'd tried everything to avoid this moment, but you were always pulled back towards it by an invisible force that tempted the longing within you that was no longer satisfied by memories of him.

The glass glistens dully in the room's light as you twist the snow globe in your hold, surveying the snowy territory in all its different angles to perhaps find an abnormality that would lighten the bulb of hope. However, all you find in return is a distorted reflection of yourself in the glass that stares back at you, highlighting your swollen eyes and the hollowness of your cheeks.

You can already hear Yoongi's playful remark about your dishevelled appearance, and the thought garners a soft smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Though it's only a matter of seconds before the moment of bittersweet reminiscing gives away under the pressure of loneliness that quickly settles into your bones. The shift is gradual, languid and done with little effort. You begin to deflate, your shoulders sinking and globing around your frame protectively as you cradle the globe close to your chest.

"I really miss you," You whisper, voice watery and thick with the heaviness of unsorted emotions. "I didn't even get to tell you how much I love you.."

Being hung over someone for such a long time feels almost childish. And though you knew that the complexities of emotions were too far intricate to be dealt with within a matter of weeks, you still felt rather pathetic for torturing yourself this much. Especially with the uncertainty of how Yoongi felt towards you. Though you'd wager that your situation garnered an exception because in no way were your circumstances to be classified as normal.

A dry, humourless laugh bubbles past your lips as you press a palm to your eyes, wiping away the budding tears that blur your vision before the disorienting fog of self-pity can settle any deeper in your mind. You clear your throat and give your head a small shake to refocus yourself as you draw the globe away from your chest, steadying it in one hand as you reach out for the lever in the back with the other.

Under the delicate manoeuvre of your fingers, the cylinder begins to spin, plucking at the teeth of the comb to create a melody that encases each of your senses and casts a wave of nostalgia over you. The music is orchestrated in a subdued register, mellow and silky in its composition as if it were a lullaby. And if there was anything that reminded you of Yoongi the most, it would be this particular song with the way that it flowed effortlessly, engulfing the room in a soft and timid yet harmonious and enigmatic resonance that burst with passion.

You reach for the lever again as soon as the soft, fading echo of the concluding chords finally dies down and allows for a brief moment of comfortable silence. However, before your wrist can complete the first full turn of the mechanical arm again, your ears are flooded with the distant performance of the very same melody that had just faded into the tranquillity of the room.

For a beat, you remain motionless, heart pounding in your chest and mind unable to string together a coherent thought. You were damn near certain that this was nothing but a fabrication of your imagination, taunting you relentlessly for the regret you held and guiding you to the brink of insanity.

As if in a trance, your feet find the floor. Your grip on the snow globe loosens as you stumble towards the door, slipping from your grasp and shattering against the floor. The sound of the breakage bleeds into the background, becoming a second priority to the music you follow out of your room and down the corridor, like a sailor enchanted by a siren's song.

There's a moment as you reach the end of the hall when you flicker back to reality, pausing a mere few centimetres away from the spare room to contemplate the rationality of the situation. It hadn't escaped you that this entire set-up felt almost too good to be true — because in all the weeks of your misery and longing, why now?

But there was no mistaking that melody, not with the level of familiarity that you had with it. Its intricacy, like its composer, was both special and specific. You didn't need to see who the musician at your grandmother's old piano was to know in your heart who it was.

And yet, you find yourself hesitating to step forward and confirm your suspicion. Instead, you stare blankly at the door, heart thundering against your ribcage as you resist the urge to step forward and push the door open. Because even with how much time you'd spent practising and planning the words that you'd say to him if you were ever given a chance to meet again, you were certain that you wouldn't manage to utter a single word.

You don't notice when the music finally fades into the combined quietness of the house, nor do you hear the soft click of the door's mechanism turn as your hearing drowns in the dull and piercing ring that consumes your sense and renders you unbound to your surrounding.

The call of your name seems distant, its hand reaching out into the void of the ocean, where it becomes lost between the flickering of your muted sense as if it were a dream. And you would've gladly accepted it as that if it weren't for the palm that presses to your cheek to coax you back to reality.

You don't expect to be hit at full force by a surge of emotions when you step out of your reverie to meet the eyes of the one calling for you. And while his touch is wholeheartedly welcome, your emotional collapse isn't.

Yoongi offers a gentle smile of reassurance, his hand rising to wipe the trail of tears that slip down your cheeks before your face is cupped within his palms. You make no attempt to stop him as he inclines his forehead against yours, instead welcoming the close proximity he offers by leaning further into the warmth of his touch as he murmurs something indistinguishable to your clouded mind before his lips find yours.

"I love you too,"

all rights reserved © dejavante

the copying, modifying, translating or reposting of any of dejavante's content is under no circumstance permitted.

[hxllo-nana]

Alright, I have finished all 4 currently released parts (I originally thought only 2 parts were released, and then I went on the Inkubators-arc-mov tumblr, and saw there were two more parts out! And long ones too!!) of Ink-Ubator Tape 25, and with that, I have decided to make Ask(s) again after a bit since my last ones.

Probably not just on Ink-Ubator though.

First, in this, Ask, and I already brought this up, but I am just asking again, because I am curious about the answers (if u don't know or remember or etc. these answers. I totally get that),. But I noticed in this Ask from me, https://www.tumblr.com/hxllo-nana/753009033796042752/thanks-for-answering-my-last-ask-now-to-finish?source=share , had some cut off answers, so I am wondering if you know or remember what you were going to say with the answers that were cut off/weren't finished (at least for me).

2nd, I will get that Dead Ringer merch someday (hopefully), because I love those stickers and stuff and Dead Ringer and physical stuff. But gonna wait for now (for money reasons, lol).

3rd, when I saw u start posting Ink-Ubator Tape 25, I thought I had missed a lot of Inkubator's Arc stuff, but then I went to the Inkubator's Arc Mov tumblr, and saw I had already saw in some form the stuff u posted before u started posting Tape 25. So I wasn't actually missing as much as I thought (though tbf, even if I was, I wouldn't have minded that much, would mean I have more stuff to go through).

Anyways, loving the more stuff u are posting for Inkbator's arc. Tape 25 has been really good and interesting so far. And the comic pages look gorgeous. And I as always, u draw and color the characters so good (currently just Ink, Killer, and Nightmare some, so far, in Tape 25, that is).

I love how u depict Killer Sans. Smart, clever, pushes his luck to the point he seems he might have a death wish, manipulative, nihilistic and/or fatalistic, playful and/or mischievous, likes to push buttons for his own amusement, but also on other orders too - like he was messing with Ink, to see how much he can piss him off, because he is is both Sans (who loves to push people's buttons/mess with people) and Killer Sans (and who is still very much that, hahaha), but also, because Nightmare ordered him to rile Ink up (and Ink complied pretty well with that. I.e. Killer didn't even need to try TOO hard to rile Ink up). And etc. Basically, LOVE ur Killer Sans. I can't tell rather Dead Ringer Dust Sans and the Brother (Classic/Failed DustTale timeline Sans) would hate him or have fun with him or both.

Curious/excited to see how Dust and Killer from ur Inkubator's series interact.

Ink falling/becoming a fallen star. Trying to still be a good guy, despite the things he has done, and etc. as Killer said.

Him being drunk on his paints (which Killer is very much enjoying seeing him being drunk), and having pretty severe mood swings. And basically trying to Kill Killer Sans and threatening him (though Killer was really pushing his luck), and Killer trying to stop Ink from going into Cross' room (Oh boy, if UV/XT is anything to go by, Ink and Cross have a very complicated relationship. Excited to see Cross, hopefully in this, and interactions between him and Ink).

It is interesting that Killer Sans tried to get Ink not to leave and explore the rest of the castle, and was trying to get Nightmare to find them, because that would be "bad". Considering Nightmare's orders Killer, I think this was mainly a lie/façade on Killer's part. Mainly.

Killer and Ink's interactions were so fun. Killer was probably one of the worst of the Bad Guys to interact with Ink, in the state he is (though, maybe perfect for Nightmare's purposes), but God, were their interactions fun to see.

Btw, if u couldn't tell from what I already said, I also love how u portray Ink for the reasons I said, but also, for being very scary sometimes, and conflicted, and his fallen black and red winged form thing was awesome and terrifying, and like mood switches/swaps are VERY interesting, and, I just love u portray Ink.

Also, as I said already, basically, how u draw/color everyone is so good. I esp. love Killer's eyes, mouth, and soul, and Ink's eyes.

Nightmare's eye and tentacles are cool too.

And etc.

1/?.

Hello again! :D

“I am wondering if you know or remember what you were going to say with the answers that were cut off/weren't finished”

answers were cut to cuz i couldn’t keep my mouth shut from spoileries :3

“I thought I had missed a lot of Inkubator's Arc stuff, but then I went to the Inkubator's Arc Mov tumblr, and saw I had already saw in some form the stuff u posted before u started posting Tape 25.”

ah, yes, the tapes are not in order and are scattered all over the place unfortunately. So far half of tape 25 has been uncovered. Yes. Half.

“Basically, LOVE ur Killer Sans. I can't tell rather Dead Ringer Dust Sans and the Brother (Classic/Failed DustTale timeline Sans) would hate him or have fun with him or both”

As a killer sans hater it was my duty to make everyone hate him as much as i do. I have failed. My followers are full of killer lovers even more. Who cursed me? Whatever, love the little shit he is, WHATEVER!!! DeadRinger Dust and Killer would get along as they both match in insanity. DeadRinger Sans would absolutely hate him but he won’t let anyone know that :)

“Killer trying to stop Ink from going into Cross' room (Oh boy, if UV/XT is anything to go by, Ink and Cross have a very complicated relationship”

very complicated relationship…despite that. It’s best they get along if they know what’s best for them.

“It is interesting that Killer Sans tried to get Ink not to leave and explore the rest of the castle, and was trying to get Nightmare to find them, because that would be "bad"”

Ohho! Killer had no problem on keeping Ink in the castle! Ink wouldn’t be able to leave even if he wanted to. But it’s funny to Killer to let him think he could!

“I also love how u portray Ink for the reasons I said”

I really hope i’m portraying him correctly and as close to canon as possible so it would be clear to spot what’s wrong with him.

[felicitysmoaksx]

So do you remember that poll I posted a while back asking the question before or after with no context? Well here's the fic!

Hahahaha. Hi all! You are all probably wondering what this is. And if any of you follow me on Tumblr, you're probably wondering why this isn't the baby fic I promised you. Well, I have it 70% done and then this idea grabbed hold and wouldn't leave me alone.

So we have an alt version of the au Voight Family Values. Where Connor defines the relationship with Sarah before the events of HOISWY. This is in no way canon to that universe but I could see it happening both before and after that fic. So again this is not canon to this universe. Just a What If scenario but nevertheless I hope you enjoy it!

If you want to set the mood for this fic, I recommend Mercy by Shawn Mendes, Takes a Breakup by Chris Ruediger, and Dead in the Water by Ellie Goulding

Happy Reading!

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI 18+)

Summary:   A crisis situation at the hospital spurs Connor into defining his relationship with Sarah sooner than later. 

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: Sexual Content, Depictions of parental abandonment, depictions of violence, inaccurate medical procedures

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

Yeah, I Just Wanna Take You Home

The day had started out so normal. She woke up to the sound of Connor’s alarm going off. With a groan, she reached over his torso to shut it off. Rookie’s mistake though because that’s when he pounced. He surged up and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to both her cheeks. She giggled as they turned in the bed. Now he was on top of her, kissing inch of her skin he could reach. 

“You have way too much energy in the mornings without any coffee,” Sarah laughed drowsily while she squirmed at the feel of his beard on her skin. She’d have some beard burn later, but the feel of it, of him, made it so worth it. 

“You love it,” the smug bastard, he was smirked at her. Then he leaned in and captured her lips. In truth, she did love it because going a round or two with him in the morning was almost like drinking a few cups of coffee and was truthfully the best way to wake up. 

“We don’t have time,” she sang when he pulled away from her and his lips started trailing far more south on her body, after checking the time on her phone. 

“You’ll be done quickly,” her lover promised her, biting softly, just at the seam of her boyshorts. 

“That is not something a girl wants to hear from the guy she’s sleeping with.” Sarah laughed before it became a drawn-out moan with his love bite. Connor chuckled darkly as his hands cupped under her thighs. 

“Well, like you’ve said, we don’t have time. Or else,” he kissed her inner thigh while he spread them apart to get to his final destination, nipping at an old love bite. Hooking two fingers into her underwear, he tugged them off. Sarah made a breathless whiny sound, arching up. The back of her head would look like a bird's nest, but she just needed a little bit more friction. Another dark chuckle and her hips were pinned to the mattress. “We both know I could draw this out…” 

He trailed off as his head dipped and then the only sound that could be heard was Sarah’s moaning. All of it was entirely Connor’s doing…She inhaled tightly before she saw the stars of her euphoric pleasure. 

When she came down from visiting those stars, the curly-haired brunette saw her lover looking entirely too pleased with himself. Well, that would never do, would it? She thought as she shimmed closer to him and grabbed his length. 

“We-w-we…oh fu-ck me…w-we don’t have time.” He tried to remind her, but it was undercut by his own moan of pleasure. 

“I think you’ll be done quickly too,” she parroted his words back to him in a silky whisper before she kissed him chastity. Then she headed south too. Her mouth enveloped him as she treated him like he was her own personal lollipop. 

“Ohhh,” he moaned, his hand cupping the back of her head. He fisted her curls the deeper she went. “I’m going to fuck you so hard when we get home tonight. You won’t be able to move without feeling like jelly.”

Sarah moaned at the promise. 

See, a normal morning. If only the two doctors would’ve known what was waiting for them at the hospital. If only they knew it wasn’t going to be a normal day. If only they knew that ghosts among other people lingered in the hospital. In that ED.  Then they would’ve never left the safety of his apartment. If only…

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

The first shot went off and people started running. A second sharp crack echoed louder in her ears as glass shattered. She saw Earl go down before she was shoved to the ground from the sheer force of the sea of shoulders crowding the exits in an effort to get out fast. 

“Sarah,” she heard someone say, but her name sounded far off. The crowd continued to rush through the doors. A few people even stepped on her as she tried to get herself up. But every time she pushed herself up, another wave of people knocked her down. Then hands reached down to grab her shoulders then she was hauled upright and dragged into a treatment room. The curtain was pulled shut. But then her savior stumbled against the wall of the treatment bay. Catching their arm, Sarah caught them before they fell. But then she saw their face, and she really wished she hadn’t caught him. Her blood ran cold. Because Charlie Pugliese was staring back at her. 

“Easy,” he mumbled quietly when she flinched back from him. Ripping her arm out from under his. “I’m not going to hurt you…I couldn’t right now even if I wanted to.” 

He looked different since the last time she saw him. Older, warier but she guessed the sixteen years difference between now and when she last saw him would do that. He also looked weaker, but that could’ve been because he was holding onto an IV pole for dear life. “But you were getting trampled out there.” 

“What the hell are you doing here? You’re not even supposed to be in Illinois.” Forgetting the kind of situation they were in, Sarah narrowed her eyes at the man. 

The man who kept food on the table and the water, heat, and electricity running when her dad and Bunny both stopped showing up. The man who took her worn-out teddy bear to a doll hospital to get it sewn back together after he tore its arm off when he pulled it out from where it was stuck in the couch cushions. The man who rushed her to the hospital when her appendix burst at the age of ten. 

But also the same man who in the same breath got Erin hooked on dope and Annie pregnant when she was underage and he was an adult. Who also taught Sarah how to pickpocket when she turned eleven and spurred her pseudo-sister to call Hank back and finally make a deal with him. 

“Aunt Sarah!” Travis’ voice called out and the reason she was in ED this morning, to begin with. Annie had brought Travis in because he had been helping his mom make lunch for the day and had sliced his hand open cutting up a tomato when Annie’s back had been turned and needed stitches. And Erin’s childhood friend was already wary of hospitals thanks to her teenage years, so she asked Sarah to do it. She had only stepped outside to call her work and let them know she’d be late when everything happened.

“Tell me that isn’t who I think it is. Tell me that’s not Travis. Tell me that’s not my son, Sarah.” Charlie knew about Travis. But just like, Charlie is in Chicago. The information got stowed away in her brain for her to pick apart and analyze later.

“Get back into bed and stay there,” Sarah told Charlie, in a braver voice than she actually felt as the shooter, a seventeen-year-old kid, of all people, told everyone to stop running and ordered Maggie to lock the doors, She pulled the curtain back just enough to see what was happening and surveyed the scene. 

She briefly saw April before the nurse ducked back into the treatment room she was in. Maggie and Will were locking and covering the doorways. Earl was slumped against a wall with blood seeping through his shirt. Ethan was looking at it and Natalie was applying pressure to another man sprawled out on the ground. From where she stood, the brunette knew this man was hurt but was too far away to see how badly.  And then there was Connor. He was standing on the opposite side of the ED and doing exactly what she was doing right now.

‘Stay there,’ he mouthed to her, shaking his head when she caught his eyes. But then ignored his own advice as he slipped out of the room pulling on a pair of gloves. Her heart stuttered as the shooter turned on Connor.

“Hey, this man needs help.” Connor was speaking like he was soothing a freighted animal. Hands raised.

“Aunt Sarah!” Travis called out again while the kid holding the gun explained that it wasn’t his fault. 

“But you don’t want him to die, do you?” The kid shook his head and allowed Connor to help him. Sarah started to creep very quietly out of the room. 

“Stop moving!” She stopped and lifted her eyes slowly; she saw the kid was now pointing the deadly weapon at her. Holding her hands up, Sarah swallowed. 

“I just want to get the kid in that treatment room.” She tried to mirror Connor’s tone as she indicated the treatment at the end of the hallway. The one with a now shattered window. Nausea filled Sarah’s stomach. If Travis had been hit with a stray bullet…

Don’t think like that Sarah, she chastised herself as she shook her head slightly. With a slight tremor in her voice, she continued, “He’s scared. He could be hurt. Just let me go calm him down.”

“No, everyone stays where they are!” Sarah had been a cop’s daughter for sixteen years. Had heard enough stories from Hank and his partners over the years to know this story wasn’t going to have a happy ending. The brunette swallowed. The gun was still pointed at her. But she still had to get to Annie’s son. 

“O-okay. Then what if he comes to me? You can keep that pointed at me the whole time.” 

It was a split second. But the kid nodded. She nodded back. The tremor was still in her voice when she spoke, “O-kay. Okay. I’m going to call him now.”

His hand flexed against the weapon’s handle in response. Sarah exhaled shakily, clenching her trembling hands into fists. “Travis? Buddy?” 

A mop of blond hair became visible. Then a pair of panicked hazel eyes peered out from behind the curtain. “Buddy, run to me.” 

“But he has-”

“I know what he has. But he isn’t going to be pointing it at you. He’s going to keep it trained on me the entire time. Just run to me. He isn’t going to hurt you.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you either,” Travis told her worriedly. He sounded as if he was about to cry and Sarah thought she felt her heart start to crack in two.

“He won’t,” she tried to promise him, but the words felt hollow. Empty because even she didn’t know what was going to happen.

“Hey, Hey. Kid,” Connor interrupted, taking the attention off of Sarah. She was so preoccupied with thoughts of trying to get to Annie’s son that she didn’t realize he had been doing it on purpose.  “I need to get him into a trauma room. Do you understand me?”

“Okay…okay. Yeah,” 

“Maggie, I need a backboard!” Connor called to the charge nurse over his shoulder, who responded. Travis took the opportunity and started running. 

“David,” Choi called and the shooter turned fully to look at him. Sarah was still distracted or she would’ve realized that her friend had spoken up when the kid had been turning back around, “David, they’re going to need help lifting him.”

She didn’t hear David respond because Travis had collided with her and the brunette, with her arms wrapped around him, backed the kid into the treatment room with Charlie. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She scanned his body for any new injuries beyond the hand Annie had brought him in for before she hurriedly pulled the curtain back in place. She dropped to her knees, cupping his face. Her pseudo-nephew shook his head and let her wipe away the tears from his face.

“No,” No, he wasn’t hurt or no he wasn’t okay? Sarah couldn’t tell which question he was answering first. Probably both.

“Listen!” David called out. But the rest of his words might as well have been white noise. Because Sarah was in survive and protect mode.

“Travis, I need you to get on the bed and stay there with Charlie. Do not move, do you understand me?” Annie’s son nodded at her authoritative tone. (Honestly, if the circumstances were different, she would cringe at how much she sounded like Hank right now.) And as he was scrambling to climb onto the bed, Sarah met his father’s eyes. 

“Charlie, if it comes down to a choice and I’m not here-”

“It’ll be him, Sarah.” He reassured her before she could even finish her thought, “But you’re going to be here.” 

Opening her mouth, the brunette was going to respond. But David’s voice was no longer background noise buzzing in her head as she heard him yell at someone to get back to where they were. 

“Sarah,” Charlie warned in a low tone when she started to turn around. If she had been a kid, that tone would’ve made her stop and think. But she wasn’t the same kid he knew anymore.  She pulled the curtain back just slightly to see the scene in front of her. He was talking to Ethan. With the gun now pointed straight at him.  

“Sarah,” he snapped again as she took a step forward, pulling the curtain back in its place. 

“David,” she addressed the kid first then when he whirled to face her; she addressed Dr. Choi as well, “Dr. Choi. What if I came and helped? Th-that way Dr. Choi can go back to where he was but they still have an extra set of hands?”

“Reese, no,” Ethan said, at the same time Connor glanced up. Blue eyes darkened with alarm as he met hers. He was vehemently shaking his head. He couldn’t speak, because his attention was half pulled by trying to insert a chest tube, but he seemed to be silently warning her to stay back.  

But Sarah wasn’t looking at either of them, Instead, her gaze was focused only on David and the gun in his hand. And it was still pointed at her friend. There was a moment of hesitation before the kid dipped his head as he mumbled almost as if he was talking to himself, “Okay. Okay. Yeah,”

Sarah hurried over, keeping her hands above her head. Dr. Choi moved as she approached and she took his spot by Connor’s side while he went back to where he was helping Earl.

“Start a line. With the way this guy is going, I have a feeling we’re going to need it before it’s over with,” Connor directed her in a clipped tone, continuing to try and insert a chest tube. He wasn’t happy with her. But that really wasn’t the brunette’s concern right now. Nodding silently, she pulled on a pair of gloves. Connor stepped around her, and to anyone else, it may have seemed like he was giving her more room to work. But unlike earlier, Sarah was paying attention now. With his warm citrus scent wrapped around her, she didn’t believe it was a coincidence that she was now on the inside of Connor. He had intentionally placed himself in between her and David. 

“Are you sure it was a good idea to leave that kid with the patient in 3? He’s in from Cook County.” Maggie asked after David left to go check on his girlfriend. Cook County…Looks like things finally got up to Charlie. As quick as the thought came, Sarah shook it off. Once again, placing that information in a box in her mind to be opened later. When she afford to analyze and freak out about it later. 

She shook her head at Maggie. She may not have seen the man in the last sixteen years, but that didn’t stop her from saying,  “Charlie is a lot of things. But he won’t hurt Travis.”

Especially not Travis.

Her friend raised an eyebrow at her words, “You make it sound like you know him.”

“I do,” she admitted quietly. It was as close as she got to telling anyone outside of her family about her childhood, “It’s been a while, but trust me, Maggie. I know exactly who Charlie is. And right now, Charlie Pugliese is the lesser of two evils.” 

“Damn it,” Connor said before a river of blood seemed to pour out of their patient. His chest tube was backed up. Sarah moved to help him to try and staunch the bleeding. 

“Breathe,” the brunette heard Maggie soothe when their patient groaned lowly. Quietly, so as not to alarm anyone, Sarah pointed out the obvious to the man who shared his bed with her regularly. 

“He lost a lot of blood. He needs more or he’s going to die,” 

“He needs a trauma team and surgery or he’s going to die,” Connor responded back. His voice was just as quiet and his tone was still clipped. But he wasn’t going to get an apology right now or even after, if they made it through this. The kid had a weapon pointed at her friend. Did he expect her not to react? 

“How’s he doing?” David asked. 

“Not good, David. He’s bleeding from inside his chest.” Connor answered him, turning back to the task at hand. 

The kid scoffed, waving the gun as he spoke. “Well, it was his fault. He grabbed the gun.” 

“I don’t care, alright?” Her lover snapped when the tube was finally in. Blood dripped out of it. Connor was still speaking as he started securing it with medical tape and gauze, “He needs to go upstairs for surgery.”

“No, he stays here.” David was shaking his head now. 

“He might not make it if you don’t let him go upstairs.” Connor tried to counter. But that seemed to make the kid angrier, “You’re a doctor! Do something!” 

“I need blood, plasma, and platelets. Now! Otherwise, he dies.” Connor said. 

“Okay, what do I-what do I do?” The kid seemed to stumble over his words. 

“Pick up any one of those phones and dial 911 and tell them who you are. They’ll find someone for you to ask.” Maggie told him firmly. 

“That’ll take too long,” Sarah interjected, shaking her head as she stripped off her bloody gloves. She had forgotten she had her phone on her. But now it seemed to burn in her back pocket. Then while she reached for it, she said a little louder. Addressing David. She held out the device to him, with Hank’s number already pulled up.

 “My father is a police sergeant at the 21st district. He runs the intelligence unit. Call him. Tell him you have his youngest daughter and oldest grandson, along with several other people at gunpoint. He’ll get you what you need.”

“Okay,” The weapon went slack in David’s grip as he nodded. He moved forward and Connor pressed his back flush against her front, keeping her shielded as the kid took the phone from her. (Neither one noticed how Maggie’s eyes narrowed just slightly as she witnessed the interaction. It wasn’t the time to think about her friends’ love lives but maybe April had actually seen them together even if the other nurse had been unsure at the time.) 

When he had his back turned, once more. Phone pressed to his ear, Maggie soothed the patient once more. Then she met Sarah’s eyes. 

“Voight is your dad? That’s why Windam didn’t want you taking my spot for refusing that blood draw.” She said slowly and the curly-haired brunette watched the realization dawn in her eyes.  “That’s why there was no record of you ever being charged. Because you weren’t. Were you?” 

Sarah slowly shook her head. According to all of her pseudo-siblings, she was the golden child. The baby. The one Hank and Camille never had to worry about once they got her on the right path. So when Officer Windam threatened to charge Maggie with obstruction, Sarah stepped in because she knew, or rather hoped, Hank wouldn’t let her be arrested. 

She was right.  Sarah hadn’t been charged. Instead, she was put in a holding cell by herself and made to wait until it was time to be taken for arraignment. Then she was escorted upstairs by Platt where she was lectured very thoroughly by Hank.

 The man below them groaned and Maggie was no longer her friend but instead, a nurse once more as she soothed, “Breathe. I know, it hurts but you need to breathe. We have help coming.” 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Instead of pacing in front of the locked ED, where a scared kid with a gun had eight people of her medical staff (not to mention how many patients) held, Sharon Goodwin was trying to make herself useful and oversee the patients that they had gotten out and help coordinate their transport.

But Dr. Lanik seemed to have that covered as he told the paramedics on how to brief the other doctors at the other hospitals with each patient that was loaded. 

“Is that the last of our emergency patients?”

“The last of the ones that we could get out anyway,” her chief of the ED told her just as some called her name. Turning her head, she saw Hank Voight being stopped by the other officers at the scene. He flashed his badge to the men before they let him through. The whole of the Intelligence unit was also behind him. All except for Detective Lindsay. She broke off and made a beeline for the mothers of the two kids being held. 

“Erin, I just stepped out to call my boss to let them know I was going to be late! I didn’t think-” Sharon heard one mother start. 

“Annie, I know. No one ever thinks this will happen.” She consoled the blonde woman gently. Then she addressed both women together. “I promise you, we will do everything in our power to bring your kids back to each of you.”

“Sharon, the shooter called. With a list of supplies he needs but-” Hank started

“Dispatch said nothing about a call coming over,” the incident commander interrupted her friend,  as he lumbered over. Then seeing the other man’s star, he introduced himself. “Officer Seth Mottola. SWAT.”

“Sergeant Hank Voight. Intelligence. And the call didn’t come over dispatch. My daughter is one of the doctors being held. The call came from her phone.” 

“What kind of supplies, Hank?” Sharon stepped in before a fight could brew between the two men. 

“Blood, plasma, and platelets.” 

“Okay. I’ll get someone to gather the supplies and-”

“Sharon, there was one more request. He has requested that you be the one to bring it.” 

“What?” Even the head of the hospital could hear the shock in her voice.

“Said you tried to help him? Seemed he doesn’t trust anyone else. Can you explain why that is?” Hank asked. Sharon could never tell if he was just asking or if it was something more with the police sergeant. Still, Sharon thought for a moment. Who had she tried to help today?

“Hank, I tried to help a young man today. David. His girlfriend was in the ED. She was pregnant and he was pretty sure he was the father and that the father of the girlfriend was making her say otherwise. I offered to give him a few lawyer names. But he’s under the age of eighteen, do you seriously think it’s him?”

“Sharon, in my line of work…it wouldn’t surprise me.”

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

It was so quiet in the ED that Sarah heard when Ms. Goodwin arrived before she even turned the corner to the trauma bay. 

“Sharon?” Maggie questioned

“Alright, hang one-to-one on the rapid transfuser and keep going. Do not let his blood pressure drop.” Connor directed, pulling his stethoscope back around his neck.

“Got it,” Sarah and Maggie said in unison as the brunette moved to help the nurse. Not that she needed the help, but the longer this went on, the longer Travis was in this ED, the more anxious energy went through Sarah’s body. She needed to do something.

Their boss shifted her gaze to meet all three of their eyes. “Do we know how the other patients are doing?” 

“My father’s in 2. He’s got something going on with his heart. Earl got hit by a bullet. Ethan said he was going to be okay. And I heard Natalie say Lily is ready to deliver at any moment.” Connor started. 

“April’s got a sick kid in 7.” The charge nurse supplied. 

“And I’ve got my nephew in 3. His hand was split open but I’ve since stitched it up, He’s fine now. Just shaken up.” Sarah told their boss.

“He also is in 3 with that prisoner from cook county. The one that got stabbed and needs an organ repair to take care of the laceration on his kidney.” 

Charlie had a laceration on his kidney? Charlie was stabbed? Then Sarah remembered his words from earlier. “I’m not going to hurt you. I couldn’t right now, even if I wanted to.”

“He won’t hurt Travis though. Believe me, Ms. Goodwin.” The older woman considered Sarah’s words before nodding her head. She waved at hand at the patient in front of her. 

“What about him? How is he doing?” She asked. 

“Thanks to the blood, his heart rate will go down. But he’s still hemorrhaging in his chest. If we don’t get him upstairs soon, we are going to lose him.” Her lover said, taking the lead as the trauma specialist. 

“Okay,” Goodwin sighed heavily, rubbing at the formed crease on her forehead. Then she turned and walked off in the direction of David. He was standing by the nurses' station but it was like his head was on a swivel. She didn’t know what Ms. Goodwin said to the kid, but she returned a moment later with him trailing behind her. 

“Dr. Rhodes get your patient ready to move out of the ED.” She told Connor so that’s what they did. Gurney railings were raised and Maggie went with Goodwin to wheel him out of the ED. 

Connor grabbed her wrist when she turned to go back to Travis and Charlie. Looking up, she saw he wanted to say something. But before he could get any sort of words out, they heard panicked shouting. 

Sarah stiffened when she turned her head and saw that SWAT had forced their way into the ED. Shields in front of them with their guns pointed at David and by proxy Maggie and Goodwin. Connor’s grip tightened on her wrist as he pushed her behind him. Then he was shoving her into the nearest treatment room. (Which was his father’s room) Her lover pulled her to him when the privacy curtain was pulled into place and for once, Sarah clung to him. With her head buried in his shoulder and her arms belted around his waist, she hoped she wouldn’t hear a gunshot. Though her whole body was tense as if she were bracing herself for one. His lips were pressed to her forehead.

“LOWER YOUR WEAPONS!” Ms. Goodwin ordered them in a shout, “STEP BACK! WE HAVE A PATIENT WE NEED TO MOVE THROUGH!”

There was more shouting. Then the clang of the door falling closed. Sarah heard the lock of it as it was turned. Then there was uneasy silence once more.

When Maggie appeared, the brunette released a breath she had been holding. (She didn’t notice Maggie’s brown eyes narrowing once more at the sight before her. Now definitely wasn’t the time to focus on her friends’ love lives. But she was seeing what she thought she was seeing right?) Pulling herself out of Connor’s arms (She also didn’t notice Connor’s reluctance to let her go) Sarah started to check over her friend before she was waved off. 

“I’m fine. No scratches. Just shook up,” she told her. Sarah nodded her head and squeezed her friend’s shoulder, “I think everyone is,”

“So, what is your plan here?” Sarah stiffened at the sound of Charlie asking the question. Peeking out of the doorway, she saw Charlie leaning heavily against both the doorway and his IV pole. Now Sarah saw what she didn’t before; that he was handcuffed to that pole. 

“What do you care?” David scoffed. Charlie shrugged, feigning indifference. “Curiosity? I like to root for an underdog, you know?” 

“Underdog? I’m no underdog.” 

“Kid, I’ve got news for you. Yes, you are. Not only do you have thirteen people trapped, but you also have a police sergeant’s daughter. And trust me, I speak from experience with this particular sergeant.  If anything happens to her and you are…” Charlie trailed off letting the weight of the unspoken words speak for themselves. 

“How is he standing? He has a laceration on his kidney.” Maggie asked quietly, coming up to stand by her shoulder. The brunette shrugged. “Adrenaline?  He also picked me up when the crowd started running for the exits and I fell. Kept me from being trampled.” 

“How do you know this guy, Sarah? You never said.” 

Sarah was saved from answering by April coming out of a treatment room saying she needed help.  Her patient wasn’t responding to medication and his fever was up.

“David, I need to go check on him. Please, uncuff me.” Dr. Choi pleaded. But the kid shook his head. 

“No, she can deal with him herself,” he said, turning his back on them. Ms. Goodwin tried to plead with him, but it was Charlie’s unbothered drawl that had him turning back around. 

“Not smart, kid. You heard the woman in charge. Anyone in here dies, it’ll be on you. You really need to think about what you’re doing. And look at it from this angle. You’re about to be a father, wouldn’t you want your kid to get help if they were in this kind of situation?”

“Not him,” David finally said, after he took a second to think, pointing to Dr. Choi, “I can’t trust him.” 

“Okay. That’s fair,” Charlie agreed easily. Then his eyes flicked to hers with a question in them and she nodded in a way that wouldn’t draw too much attention. 

“Then can Sarah go and help him?” David turned to look at her. He must’ve perceived her as not a threat because he nodded a moment later. Sarah started forward. 

“But if she tries anything-”

“I won’t.” She stopped abruptly to reassure him at the same time Charlie said, “She won’t.”

“Okay,” 

Exhaling a sigh of relief, the brunette continued on her way. Only pausing briefly beside Ethan to say, “You might need to walk me through some things. It’s been a minute since I flexed my ED muscles.”

“Copy you,” 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

It took a little while and inserting a chest tube and inserting a needle to decompress his lung. But the kid was finally stable. 

“Good job,” Dr. Choi and April chorused together as she stripped off her gloves, shaking her head. It was important now, but she had gotten sloppy in her two years of psychiatry. Sloppiness was dangerous, especially in medicine.

 In the time that she worked on her patient, Charlie had transformed into his charming self. The one she remembered. The one her brain seemed to hold onto, even now, and made her feel so at odds with herself. Because even though nothing had happened to her, she knew everything he had done to Erin and Annie. He rambled to the kid and it seemed to put the kid somewhat at ease. Charlie was halfway to charming the gun out of David’s grasp and into Goodwin’s. Like a snake charmer. All while keeping Travis firmly behind him.

Then Charlie collapsed. 

She heard the crash, his IV pole falling before she heard a dull thud of his body hitting the floor. Sarah was already making her way out of the treatment room when Travis’ panicked cry of, “Aunt Sarah!” hit her ears.

Tension was building back up in David’s shoulders when she passed him. In hindsight, Sarah probably should’ve thought twice about racing past him. But at that moment, the brunette found herself worrying very little about herself. 

“Travis, move to the left side of the room.” She ordered her nephew as she tried to pick Charlie up but with him unconscious, he was deadweight so she was struggling. 

“David, she needs help. With moving him. Can I go help?” Will asked. The kid must’ve given an answer because Will spoke again, “I’ll be back to help Dr. Manning when she delivers your child but the other doctor needs help getting that man back into bed. And it isn’t going to come from the kid.”

What the redheaded doctor said must’ve gotten through to him, because Will appeared at her shoulder before moving to Charlie’s other side. 

“On three?” He asked her, grabbing an arm and wrapping it around his neck. She nodded. 

“One, two, three…” Together they lifted Charlie’s prone body into the bed. By that point, the ghost of her past had regained consciousness. His eyes were just barely open. 

“Why are you helping me?” He slurred. Glancing over her shoulder, Sarah made sure Annie’s son couldn’t hear her. Then she turned back to his sperm donor. She spoke quietly, “You know, after everything; everything you did to Erin and Annie. I’m asking myself the same thing.”

Will shot her a bewildered glance and she knew why. She had just revealed something else about her past, but she ignored it and told him to go back to Natalie. 

“You need help figuring out what’s wrong with him.” He protested as she put an oxygen mask over Charlie’s face. He was short of breath because his other organs were already trying to compensate. Sarah shook her head, “I know what’s wrong with him. He has a laceration on his kidney that needs to be repaired. But I don’t know if we can press our luck after what happened last time.” 

She glanced back to see the kid pacing the space once more. 

Her red-headed friend went to stay more, but David told him to get back where he was. With one more glance thrown at her, Will made his way back to Dr. Manning. Then there was an uneasy silence where the only thing that could be heard was a steady stream of beeping and sounds of whimpering and groaning from Lily. And David’s footsteps seemed to echo as loud as his frantic mumbling to himself as he paced the length of the ED back and forth. And again.

Then Cornilues Rhodes had a heart attack and almost coded. They got him back, but just barely. Charlie was also steadily getting worse. He needed that repair surgery soon and possibly dialysis, the longer this went on. Medication was only a stop-gap to a bigger problem.

Sarah had been reassuring Travis that things would be okay when she heard shouting. She tensed. Her body seized up because Connor was one of the people shouting. “I CAN’T FIX HIM HERE! HE NEEDS AN OPERATING ROOM WITH A WORKING BYPASS MACHINE!” 

He must be talking about his father.

Her stomach flipped and dropped when she heard the kid threaten her lover. Her heart started to hammer. Travis hugged her, burying his head in her stomach and she ran a shaking hand through his hair to try and calm him down. Her lover said something, but it was spoken so quietly that she couldn’t make out his words. 

“Fine, but I want the policeman’s daughter to do the transfer.” David spun around to face her. 

“No!” Three voices exclaimed together. Her nephew squeezed her tighter as if he could keep her with him by his sheer force and how tight his grip was on her. 

“That wasn’t part of the deal!” Connor, whose eyes kept darting back and forth between his father and her. His blue eyes were dark with anguish when their eyes met. And Ms. Goodwin followed one step behind the kid and she was trying to plead earnestly with him. 

“David, please. I can’t ask her to take that risk. I’ll transfer the patient myself and you’ll have my guarantee, no one will come in.” 

The brunette swallowed as he ignored the other woman and ate the space between them. Her arms tightened around Travis. 

“No, you said that last time and then they came in! So she’s going to be my insurance policy!” 

“David-”

“I’ll do it.” Sarah interrupted whatever Goodwin was going to say. Her voice was trembling as much as her hands were. She wasn’t as brave as Erin, but there was no use in arguing with the kid. He was a live wire and even she could see they were close to seeing those sparks. It was best just to agree with him. Besides, it was Connor’s dad. Even if she had a choice, how could she say no? 

“I’ll do it, Ms. Goodwin. It’ll be fine,” Her reassurance was undercut by her voice. The brunette moved her gaze to meet David’s, “But please. Consider letting Charlie go too. His kidney needs to be repaired and I don’t think he can last much longer down here.”

And the ghost of her past must’ve really made an impression on the father-to-be because David nodded his okay. “Get-get them ready to go.” 

“O-okay,” she caught Connor’s eye and nodded to him. It was meant to be reassuring. But the double-certified surgeon still looked uncertain and anguished. 

‘It’s okay,’ she mouthed to him. She watched him shake his head before he turned to Maggie, saying something but Sarah was too far away to hear him.  Sarah watched the nurse nod before she ducked her head down to look at her nephew. He still clung to her. 

“Hey, buddy.” She continued to card a gentle hand through his hair. Watery hazel eyes peered up at her. Then they disappeared again as he nuzzled into her trying to get the tears to stop. 

“You’ve been so brave and I’m so proud of you for it. You just gotta be brave for a little bit longer. Do you think you can do that?” She asked the ten-year-old boy. Travis made a small noise that could’ve been a whimper. 

“I want my mom, I want Grampa Hank, and I want Aunt Erin.” He told her, sounding younger than he actually was. 

“I know you do, buddy. It's okay. You will see them soon. I promise.” You will see them soon. Not we will see them soon. Because even if she didn’t make it out of this, she would make sure Annie’s son did.

After pressing a kiss to his forehead, Sarah called Ms. Goodwin over. 

“I’ve called Daniel and he has assured me he will keep the police back. But I still don't suppose I can change your mind about this?” The woman asked grimly. Slowly, Sarah shook her head as she said,  “It’s not safe to fight with him. Especially over this with what happened. Can you do me a favor though?”

Sharon raised her eyebrows slightly but nodded. 

“This is my nephew. Travis. Could you wait with him while I make the transfers? I just don’t want him to be alone right now.”

“Of course,”

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Reese, you get one bed, I’ll get the other,” Maggie told her when the transfers were ready to go. The curly-haired brunette whipped around to face her friend with her brown eyes wide because that wasn’t the plan. 

No one was supposed to help her that way if something happened, no one else would get hurt. “Maggie-”

“It's my ED Sarah. My kingdom.” The charge nurse told her firmly before she grabbed Charlie’s bed and started to push it toward the doors. With her hands shaking worse than before, Sarah followed suit with Cornelius’ bed. 

David let them get as far as the doors, then he grabbed her by the neck and cold metal was pressed into the side of her forehead. She willed herself not to shiver at how it felt against her skin. 

“Dr. Charles?” She called.

“We’re here Sarah.” 

“I have two transfers here. But listen if SWAT tries what they did last time-”

“They won’t try anything. No one will. I promise.” Her pseudo-father’s gravelly voice settled over her like a warm blanket. Hank was here. Just hearing his voice, had her feeling a little more settled.

“That’s my Dad,” she told the kid calmly or she tried to. There was still a tremble to her voice. She swallowed tightly, but nothing lessened the lump that seemed to sit in her throat. “H-he wouldn’t put m-me in danger.” 

“Open it up,” David told Maggie as his arm tightened around Sarah’s neck. Maggie nodded and did as he said. 

“Kid?” Hank asked once the doors were open and the beds were transferred. It was just that nickname that he had always called her. But the brunette could hear the unspoken questions he was asking. Are you okay? Are you hurt? She couldn’t speak. David’s arm around her neck made it too difficult to even try, but she nodded to answer him. She was okay. She wasn’t hurt. 

“Shut the door! Go on, shut it!” He told Maggie and it was only when the lock was back in place that he let her go. He pushed her away from him. 

“Easy! She did as you asked and no one came in.” Maggie caught her as she stumbled into the other woman. 

“Maggie! Sarah! We need your help!” Connor called. They both looked at the kid.

“Go,” he waved them away with the gun still dangling in his hand, “Go!” 

They darted forward to the last room on the far side of the ED where the hybrid suite was. Sarah only paused briefly to check on Travis who was now with Dr. Choi and April. 

“Scrub in, the both of you.” Her lover told them. Despite only having the required number of hours of surgical experience Northwestern required, Sarah did as she was told. 

When she was scrubbed in, she was once more placed on the inside of Connor.  She didn’t know what she was doing here though. She was just standing behind him. Natalie was caring for the baby, once they had delivered him. So there was nothing for her to do. She thought maybe this was Connor’s way of trying to protect her; he didn’t really need her help. Until Lily’s uterus ruptured and had an uncontrollable bleed. 

“Sarah, start packing her, and don’t stop for anything,” Connor instructed. She nodded and started putting gauze in her stomach. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look at Maggie and told her to start suctioning. 

“HEY! WE HAD A DEAL!” David was banging on the glass as she packed Lily with gauze. Every hit of his fist rattled the glass, “ YOUR FATHER FOR LILY! DON’T YOU LET HER DIE! DON’T LET HER DIE!” 

Her lover, now covered in the mother’s blood, barely spared him a glance as he clamped the bleeding. “Okay, Maggie. Give me an 0-8 on a needle with proleane. How many units has she had?”

“Hanging my last two,” Will answered from where he sat, sitting in for the anesthesiologist. 

“Okay, so we have about thirty minutes to stop this bleeding completely and sew her up.” He was so calm. It was one of the things she admired most about him. Even now, he was calm. 

“Reese, think you can help me sew her up after I get her uterus sewed up?” Sarah nodded at Connor’s question as Maggie passed her a thread and surgical thread.  

“Follow behind me and sew up her stomach as I sew up the bleed, okay?” 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

The kid had a fool’s plan to get out of the situation. Trying to get Lily to move and run away with him and their baby after she just had surgery. Not to mention it seemed like a half-thought-out plan. Then it was over. It ended the same way it started. With a bullet.  

Sarah and Connor surged forward as David went down. Connor to assess the damage and Sarah emptied the gun of its bullets and passed it to the nearest SWAT member that swarmed the ED, as soon as David was down. 

Intelligence was the next unit in the ED. Jay went straight to Will and Erin stopped briefly to check on her before she beelined passed her to go help Dr. Choi and April, and to go check on Travis. 

“Kid,” the smell of burning wood mixed with a lingering scent of gunpowder reminded her of the security that she associated with home filled her nose before Hank’s arms wrapped her small frame in a tight hug. “Are you okay?” 

“Hey, kid.” Her pseudo-father cupped her face and made her look at him when she didn’t answer. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay.” Maybe if she said it long enough, she would feel like she was. Then her hands would stop shaking. 

“Is Travis okay?” Hank Voight pressed his lips to the crown of her head as he nodded. 

“He’s okay.” He confirmed. His hand rubbed her back soothingly as he squeezed her tightly once more. Her eyes watered then and she choked back a sob of relief. It felt so childish to cry with everything over now. But before, she was in survival and protection mode. A mode she hadn’t really had to go into since she was a kid. There was no time to cry then. But now…Now it was over and she just fell apart because now she could. Especially with her pseudo-father hugging her and whispering reassurances to her.

“Shhh, it's over now. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.” He soothed in that gentle fatherly tone that all fathers worth their salt seemed to have. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Thought you’d gone by now. That your dad would’ve taken you home.” A quiet voice inquired near her ear. Looking to the side, she saw Connor standing there. There was still some dry blood on his arm. His hand came up to rest on the small of her back. 

“Intelligence caught a case and was called to the scene. He and my sister both wanted to call a squad car to drive me home or take me themselves on the way to the scene, but I convinced Hank and Erin I was okay enough to ride the bus back home. And since I was okay, it wasn’t worth getting into an argument with their commander over.”

“And what about him? How is he?” Sarah sighed and moved her gaze back to the man who conjured so many conflicting feelings within her. When she delivered Travis back to Annie, she asked the other woman if she knew Charlie was back in Chicago or in jail. The other woman hadn’t said anything more than, “You need to talk to Erin or your dad about it.” 

But the way she flinched and the guilty look that crossed her face had said enough. She had known Charlie was back in Chicago. So had Erin and Hank. Yet no one had thought to tell her. Betrayal washed over her as easily as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her. Saying a tight goodbye to Erin’s friend, Sarah was wandering around the hospital with her whole body feeling stiff from her fall earlier today.  The bus wouldn’t run for another hour. So she wandered around the hospital and when she caught sight of Charlie’s prone form in general surgery recovery, she stopped and stared at him. 

“Dr. Peake was able to repair the damage to his kidney and sew the initial wound back together. She said he will need to be on dialysis for a few weeks to get his kidney back to regular function, but he can get that in prison and she’s confident he’ll make a full recovery.”

“You told Maggie you knew him?” Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. She had, but the only reason she had done that was to reassure the charge nurse’s mind that he wouldn’t hurt Travis when Sarah had put the kid in the treatment room with Charlie. 

“Yeah, since I was a kid. It’s…” she trailed off, explaining who Charlie was to her would mean telling Connor everything. And their arrangement wasn’t meant for heavy stuff like that. The brunette found herself sighing heavily, “It’s a long story. Not one really meant to be told in public. But anyways, how’s your dad? Did everything go okay with his surgery?”

Connor gave her searching a look for a moment, but when the subject of his father came up, his shoulders dropped in relief. His free hand, the one that wasn’t on her back, ran through his hair. 

“He’s doing better. Ava said the surgery was a success and he has a patch on his heart now. If all continues to go well, he should be able to go home within a week or so. My sister is with him now. She said with the day I’ve had, I’m not allowed back in the hospital until tomorrow, at the very least.” 

Sarah’s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “There’s been no official word yet, but Maggie thinks Goodwin is going to require everyone who was held, to take three days off.”

Connor opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by her phone starting to ring. She sighed when she saw it was Hank. 

“Sorry, it’s my dad.” she apologized to Connor. Just like with the call she had declined from Erin forty-five minutes ago, she ignored the call and sent him a text saying she was really fine (for the millionth time) but she had no desire to talk right now because of the day. Really she just wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of Charlie with them just yet. 

They both had known Charlie was in Chicago and hadn’t told her.

“So you’re not driving home?” Her brown orbs lifted from the lit-up screen to meet his worried blue ones. She slipped the phone into the back pocket of her jeans and shook her head. 

“No, you drove me this morning. So I was going to catch the bus at seven. Why?” She asked. In response, he moved his hand from her back to grab her hand. He grabbed her other one as well and held them up to her. Her still trembling hands. 

“Today was terrifying,” she mumbled in a quiet voice. The explanation seemed to be enough and he nodded in silent agreement, before pulling her into a kiss. It was a fleeting soft one, but it felt different somehow. His tongue always traced the seam of her lips, but this time it felt more intimate in a way. Even the way he pressed her more into his side, the expanse of his hand felt warmer against her back. Must be the day finally catching up to her

“Come home with me tonight,” the double-certified surgeon whispered against her lips, “Not like that, but like you said, today was terrifying and I just want to hold you tonight.” 

An earnest yearning made his blue eyes seem softer. Like clear blue water in a spring. This wasn’t what their arrangement was. Sure, Sarah slept at his place and he held her when she did, after they slept together…But. It was that soft look that made her agree without hesitation.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Well that’s new,” Dr. Charles commented quietly, making Sharon look up from her hug with Cece. Following her friend’s gaze, she saw Dr. Rhodes and Reese leaving the hospital. Together from the looks of his arm around her waist. But really it was the gentle kiss he pressed to her forehead that made Goodwin think they were leaving together. 

“He was pretty protective of her in the ED. I just figured it was the stress of the situation. But maybe there is something more going on with them?” Sharon commented, her eyes soft as the young couple interacted. 

Young love.

“That’s not new Dad,” Robin shook her head at her father. Goodwin glanced behind her to study the younger woman. She didn’t think… she wasn’t that airy when it came to seeing her ex-husband with another woman. But then maybe her attitude had something to do with that new, bright shiny wedding ring on her finger.

“You can tell from their body language that it isn’t new.” Robin told the group softly as the couple walked out. Sharon watched her two doctors as they waited on the street. They might’ve been waiting for Connor’s car. Goodwin had seen him use the valet service before. Another kiss was pressed to the psych resident’s forehead.

Connor’s blue porsche pulled up to the street and Goodwin watched her surgeon open up the passenger side door while taking Sarah’s bag from her. Then he accepted the key from the valet and placed both bags in the back of the vehicle before they were speeding off and out of her sight.

Young love indeed.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“You still have blood on your arm,” the brunette pointed out, tracing the line of it with the tip of her finger after the door was shut behind them. 

“Shower before bed then? You go get the water and stuff ready while I get us some clothes and lock up?” There hadn’t been many words spoken in the car when he drove them back to his apartment. Where his hand hadn’t left her thigh unless it had to because he needed that reassurance that she was there. The mention of food had been brought up, though neither of them had much of an appetite. 

She nodded silently and he gave her another soft look before he smoothed his hands down her shoulders and pulled her into another kiss. He was usually the one to move first in their arrangement. That same feeling from before-warm and tender- came back. When she pulled away, (She was always the first to pull away, just as he was usually the one to pull her in.) she left him to lock up and headed to the bathroom. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Sarah was undressing with steam billowing out of the shower stall. From the smell of the air, she had also used a lavender shower steamer.

“Clothes are on the bed,” he murmured, helping her with her shirt. His eyes darkened and he glared at the sight of foot-shaped bruises on her torso. 

“I fell when people started running,” she told him when she caught him staring. Her hands were still shaking when they grabbed his wrists. His dark gaze shifted up as he kissed her forehead. Yet there was no heat in his action as he pushed the fabric off her shoulders. Just care. Shivering, his lover pressed closer to him. Then her bra was gone, as were her pants and underwear. 

“Feels different,” she mumbled, pressing a kiss against his shoulder as she pushed his shirt up. Off it came and joined her piles of clothes. 

“What does?” Connor asked in confusion because they had showered together before. There were bottles of her shampoo, conditioner, and apple vanilla body wash, half used to prove it. 

“This,” she whispered as the dark-haired surgeon stepped out of his pants and underwear, kicking them to this side. Steam hit his face when the door to the shower opened. 

“Feels heavier than what an extended booty call should be,” she whispered, “But it’s probably just the stress of the day we both had. And the fact that we usually have sex, but we’re not tonight.”

“Extended booty call?” He blinked and repeated the term slowly as he guided them under the hot spray of water. Hissing, she tensed and huddled closer to him. Connor wrapped his arms around her easily. 

“I know there’s probably a more polite term but that’s what I’ve been referring to us as in my head.” Her words were muffled by his chest. He didn’t know if that was to keep him from hearing her or just her getting away from the skin-melting water until her body adjusted.

“You think you’re just an extended booty call?” He half asked half growled at her. His dark hair was starting to grow damp from the steam and fall just in his eyesight. 

His lover shrugged, taking his growl as a sign of frustration with his hair and not with her because she pushed his dark locks back. She was seemingly unbothered by her words as he was becoming increasingly more bothered by them. He frowned.

“I know what this arrangement is,” she spoke again. At least she sounded resigned now. She pulled away from him to take a step back to stand under the water directly. Arrangement. Not a relationship. His frown deepened. Well, that’s what he got for not defining his relationship with her.

“And what is this ‘arrangement?’” 

Because I think you and I think it’s very different things. Went unsaid. For one, you’re calling it an arrangement when I think it’s a relationship. Though he hadn’t quite mentioned that to her yet. That this was a relationship to him, but his tone of voice finally made her look at him, from where she was rubbing water on her face. 

“It’s not important,” Sarah waved him off while she turned around to grab his bar of soap. Or she tried to, but now that it was out there, Connor couldn’t let it go. 

“Sarah,” he took a step closer. Water ran down his back and he wrapped an arm around her waist, “Talk to me.”

“It was an off-hand comment. It doesn’t mean-”

“It means something to me. Now tell me what you meant by your ‘off-handed comment.’ Because I’m not letting it go until you do.”

Connor heard her sigh before she spoke quietly. Sheepishly. It was almost inaudible over the water pouring down on them. 

“You had to rebound from Robin with someone. You know, get under someone else to get over someone.” 

The blood in his veins boiled and ran ice cold at the same time. She thought he just wanted her for sex? Oh, you have royally fucked this one up, Rhodes.

“Sarah-” Her name was just the beginning of what he had to say. That he didn’t just want her for sex, it may have started out like that. He was big enough to admit that to her. It’s not how he felt now though. But she wouldn’t let him utter more than her name. He didn’t hear the sigh, but with the arm, he had around her, he felt her stomach as she inhaled and exhaled.

“Connor, can we not talk about it while we’re in the shower? Please?” She pleaded, turning in his arms to face him. Those doe eyes were turned on him now and it was only because he was immune to those chocolatey orbs that he relented with a nod. That and the bruises on her skin made her look fragile. And there was the matter of the dried blood in her hair. (Though Connor didn’t bring the blood up to her, not wanting to cause her more alarm. Her hands still hadn’t stopped trembling.) 

“This conversation isn’t over,” he warned her, as he took a step forward, backing her up more under the spray. Water had started to run down his shoulders and chest now in addition to his back. Snagging her bottle of apple shampoo, he got to work washing her hair. 

They were safe. They were here. His Dad was safe. His Dad was going to be fine. Sarah had hands that wouldn’t stop shaking and Connor had these words that he kept repeating to himself in a mantra since they left the hospital. That and he didn’t let Sarah stray too far from him. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] “You are not a rebound.” After their shower, Connor waited until they were settled in bed to broach the subject again. The woman pressed against him, huffed. He didn’t know if it was from distrust or annoyance. Either way, he continued to insist firmly in a quiet tone of voice, “You’re not. The women that came before you-they were rebounds. The porsche in the parking garage downstairs is a rebound. You are-”

A big reason why I’ve smiled in the last five months. The first person I see in the morning and the last before I go to sleep.

“Connor, I know you care about me to some extent, I’m not saying you don’t, but I think sometimes you forget I was Robin’s psychiatrist during her recovery. I’ve seen what you in a relationship, what you as a boyfriend, looks like. And while what we have is great, it isn’t that.” 

He ran a hand through his dark locks and sighed. When it was put like that, when he heard it from her perspective, it made sense.  And as much as he wanted to disagree and argue that it wasn’t true, he couldn’t. He hadn't been treating her like a girlfriend (At least not in public, but instead here in their bubble) and he knew it. The only thing Connor could try to do now was try to explain.

 “After my relationship with Robin crashed and burned, admittedly, I was scared to try again. To go all in with someone else. So I tried to just have casual sex and hold you at arm's length. But somehow you got under my skin, so I’ve been trying to keep you all to myself. But clearly, that isn’t working because you and I are on very different pages about what this is.”

Sarah picked up her head to look at him. Damp curls fell against his face and tickled him slightly before she pushed the hair behind her ears. 

“What is this to you?” The question came out in a hesitant whisper. As if she knew the answer, but was afraid of it. Shifting up slightly, Connor cradled her face in his hands. Then he slanted his mouth against hers delicately. It was true, he could turn on the charm when he wanted and truthfully could have most women and even a few men eating out of the palm of his hand with just the right grin. 

But the surgeon always thought his greatest strength lay in physical affection. So with his mouth moving against hers softly, teasing the seam of her lips. He tried to convey what she was to him without words. 

“I’ve been yours for a while now. I’m not really sure when it happened but a few months ago, before she caught us on the roof last month, Ava asked me a question. Which one of my many girls would get me that night? I don’t think I even answered her. But she commented how I used to be such a one-woman kind of guy. I remember asking her, how did she know I wasn’t still? And I was talking about you because I only wanted you. And had, for I don’t know how long. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been clear.”

“You want a relationship with me?” 

“As far as I’m concerned, we’ve been in one for months now. Now I guess the question is, do you want one with me?” He whispered softly, running his nose down her cheek. Then her neck. Lingering in that spot on her neck. He kissed it. With a slight mewling hum, the brunette beauty in his arms ducked her head down and captured his lips. The kiss was fleeting, her lips though lazy, were barely a whisper against his. 

“You realize that a relationship with me…I have expectations.” She teased as she shifted against him, her knees cradling his hips while she placed her hands on his chest and pushed up. Her torso ached with her bruises but Connor didn’t need to know that.  Despite the day they both had, Connor found himself grinning slightly at her words. He grabbed her hips to steady her. 

“Whatever you want,” he promised her. Another lazy kiss was traded between the two. She smiled against his lips, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I’m counting on that,” 

Her hands, he noticed had finally stopped trembling. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Why didn’t you take the job at Mayo?” Sarah whispered sometime later. Her index finger continued to draw patterns on his chest, Connor losed a breath, and she felt him shrug beneath her. “It never felt right, I guess. I took it because it was a good offer, but I have my family…friends…and you here.” 

He chuckled quietly in her ear. It sent a shiver down her spine. Mistaking that for her being cold, the dark-haired man tucked her more firmly against him. She didn’t mind. Connor was a furnace and because of that, he kept his apartment freezing and she was usually cold.   

Connor continued. Another chuckle on his lips. “You know if you asked me four years ago, I would’ve taken any chance I had to leave Med and now leaving didn’t-doesn’t feel right. So when they offered me to head the hybrid program, it made my decision not to leave that much easier.”

Sarah hummed before she giggled at the sensation that ran down her spine. She squirmed. There was a comfortable kind of silence then. One where they didn’t have to talk. 

Till her…boyfriend? (Is that what she could call him now? Eh, she was going with it.) Till her boyfriend broke it, “So that guy? Will you tell me about how you know him now?”

Sighing, she turned her brown eyes on him. Maybe if she gave him those Bambi eyes everyone claimed she had, he would leave it alone. “He’s part of a bigger story and I’m not sure tonight is the night to tell you all of that. Especially with the day we’ve both had.”

“Baby,” he was pulling his own eyes on her in the form of that damned pet name that just made her melt every time he used it. A hand ran down her back, “As long as that is all it is.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” She said before he pressed another kiss to her forehead. Then he pinned her with a soft, tender look in his blue eyes. “If you really don’t want to, then we don’t have to talk about it. But do you remember the first time I asked you to stay the night? You tried to brush me off, but I had this nagging feeling that you wanted to but something was holding you back. I have that same feeling again.”

“My childhood is just something I don’t really talk about… at all.” The brunette explained to her lover. She searched for a word to explain how it felt, “It’s painful and rough to think about and I try not to think about it every day.”

“I can understand that. But I want you to feel like you can talk to me if you ever want to. Even if it’s heavy stuff.” he told her. Sarah angled her head up and puckered her lips for a kiss. She was rewarded by Connor’s soft grin and his lips pressed to hers. 

“Charlie just blindsided me today. Give me a little while to process it and then I’ll tell you all the gory details.” She mumbled against his lips. He pressed another kiss to her lips in answer.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

He was blaming it on the emotionally charged day and night before. That was the only explanation he had for not noticing everything about the ringing cell he picked up in the wee hours of the morning wasn’t his. Sarah stirred in the form of an irritated grumble as he stretched out a hand to grab the equally irritating device. 

He glanced bleary-eyed at the screen and registered the familiar name of Maggie Lockwood and was sliding his thumb to answer before his mind was alert enough to register that it wasn’t just her name that flashed on the screen, but a picture of the charge nurse with April and Sarah all holding drinks at Molly’s, taken on Sarah’s last birthday. 

“Is it CT or Trauma, Maggie?” He asked by way of greeting as the curly brunette in his arms shifted. He couldn’t decide if she was awake or still asleep by how her leg tightened around his. There was a pause then Maggie asked, “Connor?”  

She sounded confused.

“Yeah, Maggie? Did you mean to call me?” He asked, half hoping for a chance that she hadn’t and he wouldn’t have to move from where he oh-so comfortably pinned beneath Sarah. 

“Well for one, I didn’t call you at all. I mean, I was going to, but I hadn’t yet. I called Reese,” Feeling wide awake now, Connor's eyes opened and he pulled the phone back slightly to glance at it. Now, he saw the picture of the three women smiling. The cell phone pressed to his ear was Sarah’s. Not his. And he had just answered it at almost six in the morning…

“I guess I know why Sarah’s been dodging mine and April’s attempts to set her up with someone since her break up with Joey now. And that I was seeing what I thought I was seeing between you two yesterday,” she chuckled then she sobered slightly as informed him of why she was calling in the first place. Sarah had been right. Goodwin had mandated everyone that had been held in the ED to take at least three days off and to let her know if they needed more time.

“I think you’ll be able to pass along the message to Reese,” the laughter was back in her voice. 

“Maggie,” Connor started, but he didn’t know where he was going because he wasn’t going to ask her to not say anything. That would be counterproductive to the conversation he and Sarah had last night. Yet, he didn’t want his personal life on complete display for everyone at the hospital once more. 

“It’s not new, is it? You and her?”

“Why are you asking?” He asked as Sarah’s head popped up from his chest. She blinked sleepily at him and saw he was on the phone before she yawned and lazily nuzzled at his neck. She was always the most cuddly in the morning and after their post-coital activities. 

“April thought she saw you two making out last month on the roof but she wasn’t completely sure. She was sure she was just seeing things. And then yesterday, there was a definite vibe I was picking up,” she told him and he sighed. Counting Ava, that made two people now that saw them. It made him wonder if there were more. He kissed her forehead before saying into the phone, “No, it’s not new.” 

“Treat her well, Connor. She deserves the best. And if you don’t, you’ll have me and April to deal with.”

While the two nurses were indeed scary both together and apart; he thought he’d have a lot more to deal with if he ever hurt Sarah the way Maggie was implying. And that line seemed to start behind Sergeant Hank Voight. But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, “Goodnight Maggie,” fell off his lips. 

“‘Night Ma-ag-gie,” the brunette repeated his words with a yawn. The ED charge nurse chuckled softly, “Goodnight you two.” 

When the line was dead, Connor tossed the phone on his nightstand and wrapped his arms around Sarah’s waist, and pressed kisses to every inch of her creamy, soft skin like he did every morning. Only this morning with dark bruises marring her skin, he moved more slowly, and his lips were just a whisper against the dark welts, His lips tracing every bruise he could see. 

“That feels nice,” she sighed, peeling an eye open. Another yawn passed through her lips as she lifted her hand to pat his head. “It’s still dark out. I’m not waking up right now. Even for morning sex.” 

He chuckled, “So you’ll go for morning sex if it’s daylight outside?” 

“Maybe not even then. I might be commandeering your bed and you will not be getting it back.” Another chuckle left his lips. Another kiss pressed to her forehead. 

“Then what do you call this?” 

“My pillow being chatty.” She deadpanned with a yawn, “What did Maggie want?” 

“She called to let us know that you were right. Goodwin is mandating we take three days after everything that happened.” 

“Mmm, and she knows about us?” Sarah sounded as if she was already half asleep already. Now Connor yawned as he settled back down too. 

“I answered your phone thinking it was mine. She put two and two together. Is that okay? That people know?” 

“I’m not trying to keep you a secret-” she yawned, “-Con-nor. I just didn’t know there was an us for people to know about last night remember? Didn’t know you were such a blabbermouth though.”

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

The next time Sarah woke up, it was to an empty bed. Connor had gone to visit his Dad according to the sticky note he left on his nightstand. And he hadn’t been gone for long by the warmth still clinging to the sheets. It was still early and she didn’t have to be at work. So Sarah lingered a little longer in bed until her phone started ringing. Justin…and Teddy. She was avoiding Hank and Erin so it seemed like they were sending in reinforcements. 

“Hello,” she answered, getting out of Connor’s bed to head to the kitchen. If she was going to deal with overprotective big brothers, then she needed coffee. 

“What the hell happened yesterday?” Both of her brothers questioned and the brunette groaned, getting her favorite coffee grounds (When had Connor bought these? Had they always been here?) out of the pantry. 

She definitely needed coffee to deal with them. 

[sea-owl]

Now has Violet learn her lesson and teach her younger daughters about sex, leave nothing out?

Is there an au where Lady Danbury or her girlfriend Portia tells her that she needs to do this or maybe they can sit in with her and help out?

Knowing Portia though, she would go "And when your husband is a stupid idiot who lost all your money and doesn't know where your clit is, you gotta light up a scented candle, create a mood and use those fingers."

My lovelies, I wish I could say Violet did learn her lesson but I don’t remember her ever giving the talk again after Daphne. The next talk we try to see her attempt is in To Sir Phillip with Love but Eloise already knows what sex is since she and Fran bribed a maid. Violet is completely relieved that she doesn’t have to tell Eloise. Now I don’t remember how Hyacinth knows if anyone told her or she found out through practice. So maybe she did it right with Hyacinth but I’m not 100% sure. Someone with a better memory than me please let us know.

The ironic part is that I just know Violet is kinky. Her kids get their scandalous sides from her. Also I know talking about sex with your kids can awkward Violet but come on. Leaving them confused as you run from the room helps nobody.

The second part though 😂

I guess it’s Violet x Portia night tonight because this is my second ask that involves an au for them. Which I’m okay with, I love being a menace and when you lovelies encourage it.

I can see an au though where Violet and Portia are lovers after both their husband’s have passed. Portia goes up to Violet one day before the season begins and tells her that she’s telling her daughters where babies come from.

Violet looks scandalized. “You are telling all of your daughters about the martial act?!”

“Not Felicity!” Portia shoots back. “Just the ones out of society. Penelope is too smart, she’ll figure it out on her own and I rather know what she knows.”

Also low key how did can’t keep a secret by her own words Eloise not tell of how babies are made to her best friend? Like I fully expected Eloise to run straight to Penelope and tell her after the maid told Eloise. Probably just a plot point used so Julia didn’t have to write Violet giving the talk again. Also with all the gossip the girl hears you’re telling me no one ever said anything about sex? I call bullshit.

ANYWAY back to the au.

Portia offers Violet to have Daphne there too since she's also out in society. Hesitantly Violet agrees. So the two women set a date and they sit the four young debutants down in the Featherington drawing room to give them the talk.

While you have to pull teeth to get Violet to talk Portia over shares. She goes into self pleasure, "If your husband is no good," and starts on kinks when Violet covers her mouth.

"You talk too much," Violet whispers to Portia.

"Didn't bother you the other the night," Portia murmured behind Violet's hand.

Violet turned red but tried to put on her best viscountess face. "Perhaps we should stick with what our mother's told us."

Portia puts on her own lady of the house face. "This is what my mother told me."

Years of practice is the only reason Violet's jaw doesn't drop.

They come to a happy medium, and the girls are better informed than they were before. Violet and Portia do have all four of them swear not to talk about it in public or discuss it with their younger siblings until they are out in society themselves.

ABC and maybe Simon nearly fall on their asses though when they overhear Penelope and Daphne quietly discussing different kinks they researched in the corner of the drawing room one day over tea.

Daphne and Penelope deny knowing anything.