#got my eye surgery done and went from drawing rarely to drawing. RARELY.

[seiseimaru]

i miss my wife tails

[banditcoyote]

Wrangled and Tangled

Sasuga stood by the sink washing the last of the dishes from tonights meal. She smiled softly to herself as her tail flicked behind her, happy about the sets of cups and plates she had picked out, feeling domesticated and settled looking over the two sets of dishes her and her lover had shared, something about them in the drying rack felt almost romantic to her. But maybe it was just the way the sunset was showing so pink and purple over the water that was making her feel that way, the cool summer breeze blowing in from the open Lanai. She hummed to herself a little as she dried her hand and reached for the first plate, ready to dry them herself, when the dish cloth was plucked out of her hands swiftly.

“Let me take care of that.” Simon said perching himself onto the counter and starting to dry one of their plates.

“All the left overs put away?” she asked leaning against the counters and bringing her wine to her lips.

“Most of them.” he said with a nod. “Except for the second helping I couldn’t resist, which is now residing in my stomach.”  

She laughed lightly, brushing her hair back behind her ear “Well I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She said with a nod, moving to cozy up to him just a little bit, her eyes full of warmth, and maybe a bit of mischief. “Maybe we can enjoy some other things when you’re done putting those dishes away.” She said with a curl to her lips.

Simon returned the smile and took a moment to lean down to kiss her easily, drawing back with a little hum. “I can think of some things for sure.” He added. “But before we get too distracted.” He placed the clean plate down on the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ring box and placing it on the counter next to her hand. “Happy Anniversary.”

Sasuga froze at the sight of the small velvet box and her large eyes went wide, slowly looking up into Simon’s face, searching for the meaning.

Simon at once realizing what she might have thought smiled and blushed. “I know we’ve talked about it, but this is just a promise ring.”  Sasuga let go of the breath she was holding with some relief. He picked the box up and opened it. “See?” inside was a thing gold band with a small rose quartz crystal cut into the shape of a heart that side horizontal to the finger. He reached for her left hand and slid it on to her ring finger kissing it into place. “I love you Sasuga, I know that this might not be perfect, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” Sasuga looked to the ring on her finger, feeling tears pull at the corner of her eyes. He hopped down from the counter “Oh no….is it too much? I know we said we weren’t going to do anything, that dinner was enough but-“

She shook her head “Don’t be stupid.” She said choking back her emotions. “I love it. I love you….Thank you.” She looked at the ring again before reaching up to tug on one of his horns pulling him down into a kiss. “Forget the dishes….come on.” She said, her tail already snaking up around his waist to guide him toward their bedroom.

Coyote woke up with a start, staring up into the dark ceiling above him. He contemplated for a moment what that dream could have meant, and his jaw tightened in his face. Did Sasuga sleep with Simon while he was away, it was the only rule he had given. Or maybe that had made the whole thing more enticing for the two of them. Still, why would Sasuga end up with Simon, he had the feeling he was absent, that house not looking familiar to him in the slightest. He closed his eyes again, almost willing it to come back to him, but some of the finer details were already fading from his memory, and all he remembered was the way the pair looked longingly at each other before they kissed. He gave a little growl and pushed himself up quickly to throw on some jeans and a shirt.

“Coyote?” Shishi asked lifting his head from where he was curled up on one of the pillows. “Where are you going?” he asked rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.

“I’m heading back to the Makai” he told Shishi as he pulled his shirt down over his torso.

The imp eyed the view appreciatively before his senses snapped back to him. “Should I be worried?” he asked knowing of Coyote’s sometimes prophetic dreams, and he wondered if he had some type of vision of Sasuga’s fights. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Coyote shook his head. “No. No. It’s nothing like that it’s….” only he wasn’t entirely sure he could begin to really understand it himself. He shook his head “Sasuga’s fine. I just need to see her. I only had that one other show at the end of the week anyway, stay here, I’ll go tell Russell to pack everything up and head on home. You’ll be fine finding a flight right? I mean, stay the night, don’t leave on my account.”

Shishi laughed “Oh it was that kind of dream was it?” he grinned. “Okay, Well, tell her I said hello and get back safely.” He said as he yawned and laid back down to sleep. “I’m sure Kurama and Gatlin will be happy to have me home, if they haven’t torn each other apart yet…”

Coyote slapped on his cowboy hat and grabbed a jacket though he felt his skin burning. “And you remember what we said about this right?” he asked as he headed toward the door.

“My lips are sealed.” Shishi murmured. “Not a word to anyone”

“Especially to Sasuga.” He confirmed hand on the door.

“Especially Sasuga.” Shishi promised “She’d probably be more upset with me than you anyway” and waved him off.

Coyote found himself easily at his ring manager’s trailer, pounding on the door. He felt bad to be waking Russell up like this but he knew he couldn’t just disappear in the middle of the night and leave Shishi to explain for  him, things looked weird enough having him around. Russell answered the door, looking as if he was still blinking back sleep. “Coyote, everything alright?” he asked looking around.

“No…Um no, there was a fire back at the ranch.” He said lying on his feet. Thinking easily of the fire at Thom’s he could use as a cover even if the time line wouldn’t match up. He figured it would never get back to Russell anyways. The manager looked concerned. “It’s nothing big, a small one thank god, no one hurt, but I really should get out there, I know we only have the exhibit at the end of the week so I was just going to head home now. Would that be too much of a pain for ya’ll to handle?”

Russell cleared the sleep from his eyes with his hand “Yeah, yeah I can handle it no problem. Take care, hope it’s as small as you say.” He said and headed back to his bed.

Coyote made one more stop, saying farewell to Poncho in his trailer, before he headed towards the nearest portal in the woods, which was still pretty far, and Coyote had to be careful no one saw him as he slipped into the woods and transformed, having to sprint as fast as he could to reach the portal before daylight. He was glad he had the foresight to try and keep his motorcycle as close to him as possible, as the only other way he could have gotten there was to fly back home and then race to her, and he wasn’t sure he could stand being on a plane the way he was feeling.  All cooped up without being able to run or move, or do anything. It would have been torture, not like the past few weeks hadn’t been. The time away from Sasuga had been harder than he’d like to admit, and he already knew he would never plan on being away from her like this again. All the time away from her he had felt like pulling his skin off. He had helped Thom around her house before he left, and at the rodeo he did more of the manual work than anyone really wanted him to. He ran Poncho as often as he felt he could without causing the poor animal too much strain, and then would run laps as fast as he could as long as he could well into the night. But it was never enough, the women that tried to greet him as soon as he stepped out of the rodeo corral still enticed him to the point he had to nearly run back to his RV. All that hair, perfume, and how the hell where they making such good bras now adays? Though he was sure that some of breasts out there weren’t only held up by a bra but maybe some type of surgery, that didn’t sway him away any. Then the fact that in some of the more populous areas there were actual demon women in the crowds, and those he really had to avoid. He was sure they’d sense something about him, and he was doing his best to be incognito. Luckily his prior years of fooling around with plenty of the women at these things rarely had any of his crew spotting him being social, so now that he was hiding out on his own it went unnoticed. Coyote tried to run himself ragged, exercise, the rodeo, his variety of plants and a few sex toys paired unironically with the body pillow he had snuck on board, none of it had done the exact trick. Which had then led him to call Shishi. It had been a long shot, but it didn’t take much convincing getting him to come out to see him in secret, even if he was a bit miffed at having to mostly stay hidden at the events. Coyote let him have the pass into where the wives or girlfriend’s normally sat, and he posed in his refinery during the events when it fancied him. It had helped tire him out, but he still hadn’t been getting enoug

He thought he could remain out here for the full month, and they had gotten so close, it was almost silly to run now. But after the dream with her and Simon he just couldn’t deny the ache he felt for his mate any longer and he had to find his way back to her. Dawn was just about to break as he reached the portal and he wasted no time heading through it and heading towards where he had hidden his bike. He felt like a dog that had gotten a scent, and he wasn’t going to rest until he got to her. **** Four days later still hours from dawn, Coyote stashed the bike behind the hotel, barely taking care to hide it, and stumbled into the lobby. He had all the faith in the world that Sasuga was still in the tournament, and held the most hope that meant she was still in the hotel room that he had the key stashed for. He limped into the lobby where the clerk paled at the site of him. “Sir….” He said rushing around the desk and towards him. “Do you need a medic?” he asked looking him over.

Coyote didn’t waste the energy to speak to him and only shook his head as he stumbled forward before catching his balance again. He knew what he looked like, but wasn’t stopped as it was clear the clerk in his pristine uniform was afraid to touch him at all.

“Is there someone I can call?” he said walking along side him as Coyote shuffled to the elevator, bracing himself against the lobby wall and causing a smear of blood to press into the wall paper.

Coyote considered it for a moment, but shook his head again. If Sasuga was still in the tournament this late in the game there was a chance she was injured as well, and he wanted her to save her strength for fighting. He’d be okay. He just needed a shower, some stitches, and her.

The clerk did not follow him into the elevator, being the main hotel for the tournament he was surely not the only injured guest they received, and he retreated back to their desk, probably to call for maintenance to clean up whatever other mess Coyote had left behind him. He leaned against the wall as it started it’s ascension toward the upper floors, again leaving a smear of dirt and blood where his shoulder braced himself. A few droplets of blood dripping from somewhere onto the floor. It seemed to take forever for the elevator to reach it’s destination, the doors pausing once as a couple was about to get on, but after seeing him let him go on without a question. Coyote almost passed out, unsure if it was from blood loss or exhaustion, but the dinging and wooshing of the doors riled him, and he staggered out into the hallway. Knowing he was so close to Sasuga spurred him on, and he was relieved to find that the card key still worked. He let himself into the hotel room, finding it dark and quiet and he did his best to move with stealth into the bathroom. He passed the bed and spotted Sasuga sleeping peacefully by herself, he was grateful for this because with the rage that was still somewhat in his veins if he had found Simon with her he might have taken a regrettable action. In that moment iat took everything in him to not simply cover her with himself, though with how dirty he was he knew it would only concern her more. There was blood in his mouth and under his fingernails, matting his hair down and sticking to his hat. Better to clean himself up first, and he shut the bathroom door behind him before turning on the light.

He did his best not to look at himself in the mirror, but finding it a necessity to assess some of the damage. If he had made it this far like this it couldn’t have been too bad. Still he was in rough shape. Not only was his face cut, bruised, and swollen, but he had also lost enough weight that he appeared gaunt under the torn and dirty clothes he wore. He slowly undressed, assessing each wound, fresh bruises forming on top of old ones, some cuts that were still bleeding every time he moved, gashes that would no doubt need to be closed up. He hissed as some of the clothing stuck to him where blood had dried, let his effects fall to the floor, his gun empty and tucked back in his holster, and stepped into the shower letting the water strike at his feet until it was warm enough to step into. He braced himself against the wall, letting it flow over his hair and down his back, feeling the sense of relief start to fill him as well. He had made it, he was close to resting, and he was close to his mate, that was all he could ask for right now.

[mazuwii]

Chapter 11 || Stolkhom

Reiner x reader

Previous chapter

Authors note: I hit an art block so hard it just knocked me off my motivation to get out of my room. And it’s still not back, but I managed to finally complete this chapter. Another one is coming and I’ll leave you guys to make an opinion of what’s happening. Thanks for all the support! It really helps me.

Warnings: age regression and violence

The letter had arrived faster than Y/n expected. In under a week. Reiner had better behaved this week so as she read the letter that proclaimed his eligibility for surgery, she hesitated.

He was playing with their puppy Pluto, holding the toy away from him and watching as the golden creature eagerly hopped up and down.

Observing the two, she wondered if he even needed help anymore. The night terrors slowly died down, and he doesn't get violent tantrums anymore- but maybe that's because she hasn't given him a reason to get mad or angry. Suppose if he did get angry while Mihai was living with them, what if he began to harm himself? Would he scream and cry? He'd never dream of hurting Mihai but the very sight would terrify his son.

There were equally enough reasons to not do the surgery as much as there were to do it. The doctor helped her estimate the cost and she could afford it... but was it worth it? Especially since this is brain surgery, something that is rarely done during these years. Does the clinic have enough experience? What if Reiner just gets worse?

"Hey, Y/n! Come play with us!" He giddily called over, waving the squeaky ball around. Y/n smiled and joined the two. It wasn't so bad to take a break after all that stressful thinking.

The three went outside to play. Y/n watched by the porch as the excited puppy chased after the childish man. She had never seen him so happy to be active before. He spun around to run backwards, teasing the dog with the desired ball in his hand. At last, he chucked it, distracting Pluto.

Reiner watched with a proud smile at the dog darting into a straight beeline towards the thrown toy before it had even landed. His hand went up to cover his eyes from the sun for a better view. However, he had missed the fast dog, only realising he was staring at the wrong area once a fluffy ball of excitement collided against his hip.

The tall man fell backwards onto his bum in shock, delighted to see the puppy panting on his torso, pawing his way up to his chest with the retrieved toy in his drooling mouth.

Observing all this activity made Y/n come to the conclusion that Reiner didn't need any help. He was strong and healthy, even after all that trauma, after all his injuries. Those scars on his body remind her that he's been through worse... but who's to tell if being betrayed is worse than having a whole nation despise you. For him, it's now two.

Whatever, she thought as she called him back inside, he still has her, and that's how it'll always be.

The routine continued for the rest of the days. Bathe him, feed him, go to work and then come back and hope he's eaten. Feed him, play with him and repeat. She kept going regardless of her constant fatigue.

By the time the appointment rolled around, she was ready to collapse. It was her break day. She'd usually want to nap, make small arrangements or knit small cute things while Reiner scribbles another one of his crayon drawings. Not today, perhaps the surgery may happen today.

This time, Reiner didn't fall asleep on the bus. He was watching the passing view, no matter how much a blur it was in. He seemed deep in thought, at peace with something inside of him. "I like birds." He randomly said.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." He turned to her, "When I was younger, my mum had a lot of pet birds. A parrot. I got to name him Dieter, we had another pink one who died early- but, my favourite was the dove." His face would visibly soften the more he spoke about his old pet birds, especially once he mentioned the dove. Y/n knew about the dove since Karina would always talk about how inseparable the animal and her boy were, even going as far as flashing photos of her chubby son petting the soft bird.

"She was the nicest to me, and would be so excited when I came back home from training, you'd never expect an animal to be so happy."

"What was her name?"

"I just called her dove." He grinned in memory. "My uncle told me that doves represent peace and love. It made so much sense to me. Dove made me feel happy, after being picked on by everyone all day, she'd cheer me up just by being around me."

"She must've been your best friend at the time."

"Dove was like my guardian angel." His hand slithered its way to hers, his focus determined on their intertwining fingers, "The same way you are to me."

"Is that the reason?" Y/n inaudibly whispered, "I'm glad you can depend on me." She finally said. Her hand tightened around his. The soft connection of their skins put him to peace. He appreciated how she could help ease the burns of his memories. How they'd plague him at night, burying him further and further into fear and regret- until her soft snoring breaks him out of it. Her arms extended around him like an affectionate sloth.

Y/n was his dove. A reminder that maybe, the world is less harsh than everyone makes it out to be, perhaps things get worse and perhaps things become amazing. In either one of those outcomes, she'll be by his side, and he'll be by hers. Always.

≈≈≈

"Mihai!" Zeke called, worried the child would go to far off into the road, too immersed in his rolling soccer ball. "Don't go too far off, okay?" He finally caught up, hoping to lead him back inside without anyone noticing. However, his efforts soon proved to be useless.

"Say Zeke,"

The bearded man tensed up at the voice from behind. He clenched Mihai's shoulder. The touch seemed to transfer a warning concern from the man to the child who didn't even bother turning around to properly face the direction of the voice.

"What's Braun's kid doing with you?"

"Taking care of him while Y/n mentally recovers from the trauma of losing her husband." He said with irony strongly laced in his tone.

"Where is she?"

"She didn't tell me. She just said she'd come back for him... now if you'll excuse us"-

"I find that hard to believe."

"Well, either way, he has to go back inside." He hoisted the nervous boy up onto his hip, "Unless you needed something?" Zeke turned around to face his superior. Magath's gaze was glued to Mihai, yet he was tucked under Zeke's chin, hiding away from the 'scary man'.

"Yes, you didn't show up to the meeting today. I clearly instructed you to show up."

"That's because Mihai was feeling sick this morning, I couldn't very well abandon a child, could I?"

"Where was your partner?"

"Pieck had an urgent call, she insisted but I assured her."

With a sigh, he shifted his watchful glare and faced the floor. "Very well. I shall tell you now,"

Zeke resisted the urge to step back when he took a step forward. Some part in him urged that he was trying to seem threatening... and it was working. No matter how taller or stronger Zeke was than him, this man was like a snake, ready to bite at any moment.

"We're facing conflict with the mid-east." He proceeded to explain, even with the child listening to the details of possible war. Mihai restrained a scream. He knew his father was a soldier once, did the possibility mean he'd get sent again?! His mum was always cautious about living here... that war was as normal as taking a walk here, at any second, they could come and take his father away, to draft him off.

What would they do to uncle Zeke?! His chubby hands grasped a fistful of the man's shirt, alerting him of his anxiety.

As a response, Zeke palmed the back of his nephew's head, stroking his scalp with his thumb. Once Mihai gained the confidence to look up, he was met with his uncle's kind smile. Every wrinkle, and feature that he took in somehow soothed the absence of his parents.

"If that's all, Sir." Zeke carefully bowed.

"Da- uncle Zeke." He started, trying to pretend like he didn't almost accidentally utter the word 'dad'. The blond man hummed in response, "You won't go back out there... w-will you?"

A dry chuckle started up from within his throat, "Of course not," he pinched Mihai's nose. "They're only threatening us to give them what they want."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

≈≈≈

"No!" He childishly screamed, hiding behind his wife. "Sir, please-"

"Y/n don't let him take me! He's evil!"

"Reiner"-

"Please, you love me don't you?"

Stuck in a never-ending cycle of arguments, Y/n could only see a few outcomes. Security could come over to drag Reiner into the operating room but Y/n begged the doctors not to do that even when Reiner was swatting at every hand that tried to drag him away from Y/n. He clung to her like a needy child.

"We don't have much time, Mrs Braun we'll just have to call"-

"Please! Just- just give me a second..." she pleaded with her eyes, unusually wide like a puppy would. She felt ashamed, when was the last time she even made such a face to a stranger?

The doctor huffed out in exhaustion, his shoulders slumped. His job surely became more difficult when he heard the name 'Braun'. The overgrown child that never had a smile on his face when torn away from the mature lady beside him. "Fine."

The instant he was away, Y/n snatched the blond's arm, forcing him to face her, taken aback when witnessing tears spilling out of his eyes. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"Y-Y/n! Don't leave me, you can't!- I'll see those- those people being ripped apart, crying!- I can't do it again! Don't make me do it again!-"

"Shh, shhhh..." She pulled him into her arms and rubbed his back. "That won't happen today, I promise."

"You... promise?"

"I do. And remember what I said?"

He released himself from her shoulder and rubbed his eye, offering a depressing nod. "You never make a promise you won't keep."

"Besides, I'll be here. Until you come out, we can both go home. If we make it in time I can read you a book."

"My favourite?" The corner of his lip quirked upward.

"Your favourite."

With that, he reluctantly followed to the room. Y/n couldn't give him a nod this time, since, she wasn't too sure herself. In the damned letter, the doctor revealed how rare surgery was, how past brain surgeries have fucked up so bad that the patient would have been better off with their starting condition, no matter how bad it was.

She began to doubt herself. As a mum. As a wife. As a friend- hell even a human! Yet it was too late, twenty minutes had already gone past, it's not like she could break into the room and abruptly demand they stop. 

What were they even doing?! Did they cut his head open or something? How can they fix the so-called damage to his brain? Even Y/n didn't get to see the X-ray pictures. It was times like these that she needed Zeke and Pieck by her side, hell even Porco would do the job well. Just someone to hold and comfort her. To tell her she was doing the right thing.

"Reiner..." She shakily whispered, tucking her chin onto her chest to hide her face from the eyes of nobody. Again, the hospital was empty. It was a bit odd that she was always the only one in the waiting room. But she didn't think too much of it, other people were probably too short on money to afford the doctors. She was lucky if she even saw one. 

Her thoughts were like a storm and she was the only insane person to be standing in the midst of the chaos. Her sticky clothes drenched in the useless questions about the inevitable future, her skin numbing to the mercilessly freezing wind. Y/n's body ached, her mind ached- it ached, everything ached! As loud as the furious sky, she shrieked. Someone take me, just take all of me and leave everyone else alone!

By the time she could lift her head back up, her neck throbbed. How long had it been? Her half-lidded eyes carefully twitched along to the dark sky. It was a clear night, stars were out, the open windows releasing in the freshest air she had ever smelled. Nights like these were perfect to fall asleep to. Outside buried with nature, not a care in the world.

"Ma'am?" Y/n's gaze slightly pivoted as she squinted her eyes at the receptionist in front of her. "Are you alright?"

Y/n nodded, her body still weak in fatigue. She wasn't getting too much sleep or eating as much as she should. Even standing up made her dizzy.

By the time the familiar scent of clean washing soap softly wafted over her face, she couldn't tell what was going on. But she took his hand and gladly let him assist her out of the hospital and into the cold night. It was Reiner, she knew that, what she didn't know, however, was if it was a dream.

The peacefulness of it, the serenity of the silence and ambience. The moving and almost empty bus had no lights in it. It almost seemed like the world beckoned her to sleep, finally to be able to rest. Maybe not the desired amount, but at least just to get her energy back.

Her cheek drooped against his chest, his warm arm nestling her weary body against him.

Of course, her content slumber was interrupted when the bus stopped at what the man wordlessly insisted was their stop. With her eyes barely open, she limped out of the bus, the man holding her close as she did, in fear she'd clumsily topple over. 

His arm enveloped her waist while the other held her hand, maintaining her weight as she leaned against him. The atmosphere wasn't as bad as her previous imagery. The sky wasn't miserably grey. The clouds weren't scolding her. It was calm and clear. The sound of crickets, the gentle breeze encouraging her weak legs to give out.

By the time the familiar sound of her door opened, her sore feet levitated off the ground, someone bearing all of her weight after the door shut. She could barely tell without the creaks of the stairs where she was taken to. "You'll drop me..." She incoherently mumbled against him, even though she knew if there was no one to assist her, she'd happily snooze on the cold floor. Sleep was sleep.

Slowly and gently, the plush mattress welcomed her sore body. Her feet went lighter after each shoe and sock was taken off, the air welcoming her feet. Another mutter even she couldn't understand left her lips

Nevertheless, it mildly alerted the caring man before her. His footsteps sounded clearer and before she knew it his calloused fingers stroked her cheek. "Shhh, it's late, dove. Go to sleep." The familiarity of it, the smell, the voice. Everything about this moment made her tear up. "You smell like my dad..." She sniffled, "Just... like him."

The moisture in her cheeks was wiped away and a kiss between her brows softened her features, allowing her to wilt back into sleep.

Next chapter

[themarvellouswriter]

FIX ME UP

OMEGA! BUCKY BARNES X ALPHA! READER

Summary: The cute EMT has a very snarky personality and the pretty trauma surgeon isn’t a fan.

Genres: Slight smut, fluff and slight angst. Mostly fluff though.

Words: 2.6k

Notes: This is actually my first A/B/O fic.

Warnings: 16+, Dub con, Non con if you squint. But everyone ends up happy I promise. Not beta read yet, will do it later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday, 20:37

“Doctor L/N! This is the last one. 30 year old beta male. Broken arm and concussion. BP is slightly elevated. O2 levels normal.”

“Thanks Sam. Please take him to med bay 5 and have Doctor Feldman to give him a full check up,” you call out from where you’re examining another patient, a fifteen year old female omega. She’s looking up at you in awe.

“What?” You give her a small smile as you finish looking over her reports.

“Nothing, its just that you’re an alpha and you’re so much in control when nobody lets unmated alphas near newly minted omegas.”

You laugh. “I have more self control than all the people in this entire building. And I don’t get that affected by omega scents. So, there’s that.”

You close the folder. “Well, good news. I’ll draw up a rough schedule of your medicine and you’ll be as good as new in a few weeks.” She smiles up at you. “Thank you doctor. Nobody took me seriously when I told them I wanted to be an omega athlete. They’re always telling me that its for betas and alphas. I hate it when people say that.”

“You know, I used to hate it when people used to tell me that I couldn’t be an surgeon because I was an alpha. Look who’s laughing now. Never let people tell you what you can and can’t do.” She nods determinedly as you take your leave.

You step outside for a breath of fresh air. Your thirty hour shift is about to be over in about an hour and you couldn’t wait to get home and prepare for your upcoming rut. You had been on your feet for what felt like days and all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep for hours.

You spy a haphazardly parked EMT van. Curious you make your way over, wrapping your white coat closer to your body. “Sam? Is this one yours?” You say yanking open the front side door of the ambulance. There is a figure slumped over the steering wheel, breathing heavily. Long dark hair falling over their face. You sniff. “Barnes?” The person in question turns slightly. “Ugh. Of all the people to find me here. It had to be you.” You roll your eyes at his irritated voice. “If its that much of a problem how about I walk away like I never saw you?” You move to close the door. “Wait, no. Stop. I need my meds. I ran out. And Sam left so can you please…?” Your doctor side took over, ignoring the previous and very mutual hostility between the two of you. 

You pull him back to the seat. His face is flushed and he’s sweating profusely. You take a deep breath, making him flinch slightly. “So, you’re an omega. Should’ve figured. I’m assuming you ran out of suppressants and now you’re about to go into heat?”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Alright smarty pants, can I get them? Or do you need my doctor’s note?” Your mouth twitches, fighting a smirk. “How about I do you one better?”

You unclip his seat belt and rest your hand on his waist. He stares at you mouth ajar. “What’re -” “Relax, I’m not going to hate fuck you in an ambulance. I’m taking you to the Omega Ward. You’ll be safe there.” He looks taken aback, opening his mouth to protest. “Be quiet and get out.” He shakily climbs out, legs nearly giving away as his feet touch the ground. You catch him in your arms, alpha strength making you lift him up with ease. He’s trembling in your arms, eyes clouding as his body approaches the initial stages of going into heat. He buries his face into your neck. “I still hate you but you smell so good.” You snort as you carry him inside bridal style. “Dumbass.”

All eyes are on you as you walk in, your archenemy Barnes tucked in your arms. People literally stopping in their tracks to look at you.

“Has nobody ever seen an omega in heat? In a hospital of all places? I mean is it really that weird?” Your voice is sharp and cuts across the room like a knife. “Get back to work.” Doctors Feldman and Pravesh, your friends from the ER, give you a surprised look as you walk past them. You mouth ‘I’ll explain later’ at them, as you make your way to the lift.

Barnes looks up at you, eyes wide, pupils blown. The pretty blue of his eyes almost black now. You swallow as his rich, dark extremely familiar omega scent invades your senses.

“Thank you.”

“Its my duty.”

“Not everyone would do it. Especially if they hate the person in question.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You open your mouth to object but are cut off as the lift open and a wayward hand makes it way towards Barnes. You take a quick step back. Another alpha stares at you, eyes filled with lust. His eyes move to the body in your arms. You feel him shift closer to you, fear mixing in his scent. You growl threateningly at the stranger who immediately runs out of the lift at the sound. You enter and use your elbow to hit the button to the basement where Omega Ward is.

Barnes looks up at you with glassy eyes and rubs his nose against the underside of your jaw. “That’s ticklish and wildly inappropriate Barnes.” “Bucky.” “What?” “Call me Bucky.” You clench your jaw as the top of his head moves along your neck. “Bucky. Stop. You’re going to be nesting in a very safe space soon. You won’t need an alpha.” “Say it again.” “Say what?” “Say my name.” You finally look down at him, dark hair spread across your shoulder, eyes glittering in the dim light. “Bucky.” You whisper in his ear. The omega throws his head back and lets out the most sinful moan you’ve ever heard. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself and hoist him upright. Cradling him tightly you nearly run out of the lift as it opens.

You stop at the reception and check him in. One of the sweet smelling beta nurses leads you to a small room and you deposit Barnes, Bucky, on the bed and then dump a pile of blankets on top of him. “Nic will be taking care of you, for as long as you need. You guys are friends, right?” His gaze moves to the blonde nurse who just walked in to join you. “Hey, Buck. You tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you. Anything at all.” He gives you a sad look as you turn away.

You give her a slight nod and walk out, shutting the door behind you. “You smell like him now,” Nic says from behind you. “Don’t remind me.” You sigh and go back to your floor, still about 40 minutes before you’re done with your shift. Conrad Hawkins, your best friend since high school, meets you as you step out. “So, Barnes, huh?” You roll your eyes. “Like the other betas here, who actually listen to me, why don’t you?” “Just saying. You hate him and you carried him to the OW. When there was a perfectly good gurney here.” He tilts his head towards the ER. “Oh my gawd, stop. I am an alpha taking advantage of an omega in heat. I think I scented him.” He snorts with laughter. “You think. When you growled at the guy in the lift, the entire floor heard it. And the dude pissed himself.” You grin. “Nice,” you nod appreciatively.

“I would love to continue this riveting dicussion about Barnes’ heat and Y/N’s idiocy but we have a surgery to get to,” Mina Okafor seems to pop out of nowhere and drags you away with Conrad still laughing behind you. “I don’t have any. My shift is about to get over.” “Too bad. Its a whipple and Doctor Austin wants you there.” You sigh for what feels like the millionth time that day. “There is somebody out there who hates me.” “One thing’s for sure.” “What?” “Its definitely not Barnes. You stink of him.” You give her an exasperated shove as you both begin your preparations for the surgery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday, 7:45

You dragged yourself out of the OR, pulling off the bloodstained garments off and throwing them away. You made your way to the Omega Ward to check up on Bucky Barnes. It felt weird to call him Bucky, you guys weren’t exactly enemies but had never gotten along for some reason. He was excellent when it came to disguising himself as an ordinary beta. But he wasn’t ordinary at all. And you knew it, felt it deep inside when you looked at him. Something special and so inherently Bucky about him. Even though the both of you never got along and rarely agreed on things, you couldn’t deny the feeling of protectiveness that rose within you when you saw him. With his soft brown hair and big blue eyes, the toothy smile, the razor sharp wit and general overall perfection it was impossible to not fall in love with him. You froze in your tracks at the sudden thought, stopping right outside the Ward. In love with Bucky Barnes? The salty EMT with whom you liked to butt heads? Thinking about all your encounters only added fuel to the fire that you loved him. And given the way he was looking at you with those soft, lust lidded, ocean coloured eyes and practically breathing in your scent, you were mostly sure he felt the same way.

You gave Nic a small grin, walking past her and pushing open the door of Bucky’s room only to be greeted with the overwhelming smell of an Omega in heat, strong enough to make even your knees weak. Taking in a deep breath, you walked inside to give his vitals a quick once over. He was huddled in a corner, tee shirt drenched with sweat and face flushed, eyes tightly shut, softly moaning your name as his hand pumped his length and brought him closer to the edge. Your eyes went wide as you saw him climax to the sound of your name, grateful that the rooms in the Omega Ward were soundproof. He hadn’t realised that you were in the room yet, you felt a bit relieved, inwardly knowing that his heat was distracting him from everything else around him. You finally knelt beside him, cupping his face in your hands, making him open his eyes and look at you. You gave him a genuine smile, brushing the sweat off his brow. His dazed expression slowly morphs into one of panic and absolute mortification.

“Oh my god, how long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know that you want me to help you through your heat.”

“This is humiliating.”

“Not really. I just had an epiphany and given the way you’re reacting to me touching you, I think you did too.”

“I’ve been in love with you the second I saw you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise that I love you sooner, it would’ve saved us a bunch of heats and ruts spent alone.”

“Agreed. Now are you going to keep talking or take me back to your place before the next wave of my heat sets in?”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable in your place?”

“I want you to consume me. And your place, with all that is you is the best place for you to take me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I trust you.”

“Is that the heat talking?”

“Not at all.”

“Great. My place it is.”

You don’t even remember how you brought Bucky back to your place, swaddled in blankets and smelling so absolutely divine. You tucked him in bed, feeling the first onset of your rut come on as you tinkered in the kitchen, making sure you had enough for the next few days and joining him as fast as you could. You curled your fingers in his soft hair before pulling him into a deep kiss and straddling him. His hands were placed firmly on your hips, holding you so close and you felt a rush of delight at having him so close to you. He was nearly intoxicated by your presence, breathless as he pulled your shirt off hands touching everywhere. Feeling a soft laugh bubble up you grinned at him. “So perfect.” The tips of his ears turned scarlet at your words, making you coo softly and pinch his cheeks before kissing him again. Your rut was making you more sensitive to his touch and it felt so good. For a moment you just wanted to soak in everything but there would be time for that later. Right now, Bucky was the priority.

Pushing him back in bed and pulling off his uniform was easy. Taking the entirety of his massive length in your mouth was not. So you started slow, all the while maintaining eye contact as you teasingly, tantalizingly began to suck him off. His hands found their way to your hair, harshly tugging the roots, begging you to go faster and the moans escaping his perfect mouth were nearly a sensory overload. And he felt so good, so perfect and pliant under you. Achingly beautiful and you had no idea how you’d managed to leave him alone for so long. He was now only all yours and you weren’t going to let anyone near him. You were an alpha and nobody was going to even look at what was yours. He came shortly, much sooner than you’d anticipated as you licked your lips before trailing warm kisses up his chest, ignoring the exhaustion that was threatening to overwhelm your body. You sank your teeth into his neck, his warm blood filling your mouth and spilling down his chest as you marked him as yours. He looked at you wide eyed and you felt horror set in as you realised what you’d done, backing away.

“You marked me as your mate.”

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You look so beautiful and perfect and my rut is going to set in anytime-” You babbled away, frantically waving your hands.

“I’m not complaining. And why is my mate now so far away? I need my alpha.”

You stared at him in disbelief before throwing yourself at him and holding him tightly.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just waiting for you to have your way with me.” He admits, slightly shy now.

“And I will because I love you so much.”

“I love you too Y/N. You’re the best alpha I could ever ask for.”

You don’t say anything, finally letting the exhaustion set in knowing there would be enough time to talk things out later, now that you both belonged to each other forever. And sleeping in his arms felt like heaven. It would feel even better when you both were fully ready to take things as they come. Before you finally drifted off you felt him smile against your skin and could almost see your co – workers’ smug faces when you both showed up freshly mated and smelling like each other and looking like young idiots in love. And you wouldn’t give it up for the world.

[erin-bo-berin]

By Your Side

MASTERLST

This was requested by and is dedicated to @be-the-bravest​, my name AND birthday twin. The poor thing dealt with appendicitis and an appendectomy on her birthday and a few following days. I’m so incredibly sorry that you had to go through that on your birthday of all days, Erin, but I hope this makes your recovery a little better. This is some incredibly fluffy, sweet goodness and you can’t convince me that Spencer wouldn’t do this for someone he loves. Hope you all enjoy some fluff to start your week and happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 1,796

This wasn’t exactly how you’d planned your birthday.

You’d been excited about your birthday for months. You’d been dreaming about a day filled with spending time with friends, family and your boyfriend, Spencer.

You were too old for parties—not that parties were necessarily a bad thing—but you were one who much preferred eating out and going on adventures.

You’d planned an entire day; brunch with your family and Spencer at your parents house, browsing yours and Spencer’s favorite book stores, dinner with Spencer’s work family and then a movie marathon with him that night.

Spencer had even taken a day off of work, something he rarely did. Having a job in the FBI meant demanding work and you admired how passionate he was about his job. According to him, this was the first time he’d taken time off in well over five years. It was touching that he did it just for you.

When you were younger, the thought of getting older scared you. You’d realized with each year you turned a new age, you’d never get back any of those previous years. Now though, you viewed it as a celebration of another year filled with ups and downs—and making it through the year, especially when you got to celebrate it with the people closest to you. Besides, the older you got the less you worried about aging; you were only as old as you felt after all.

All of your anticipated plans evaporated as quickly as a snap of fingers.

The pain had begun the previous night, a dull pain in your stomach. You were expecting your period at any time, so you chalked it up to that. You went to bed early with a heating pad and no second thoughts. By the time Spencer had come to bed, the pain had eased a bit to the point of uncomfortable, but bearable pain and you didn’t consider anything else.

The bright, early hours of your birthday changed your opinion though.

You and Spencer didn’t have to be at your parent’s house for brunch until 11 am, but you woke just before 7, the pain in your abdomen more than you could bear.

You cried out as you tried to sit up in bed.

Either Spencer was just finely tuned to know when something was wrong with you or he’d slept incredibly light last night—something pretty unusual for him.

He was up in an instant, concern written all over his face as he checked on you. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Definitely in tune with you.

“My stomach is killing me,” you groaned, “What time is it?”

He peered at the alarm clock on his side of the bed. 

“6:49. Why don’t you lay back down? We still have a few hours before we have to be at your parents’.”

Spencer helped you lay back down and took your heating pad.

“Do you need me to reheat it for you?”

You nodded, in too much discomfort to talk.

“Get some rest,” he said, kissing your head before heading downstairs.

A few minutes later, he returned with the newly warmed heating pad, wrapped in a hand towel and placed it on your lower stomach.

“Has the heating pad helped any?” he asked, recalling that you’d slept with it last night as well.

“It was last night. But now it doesn't even touch it,” you whimpered.

You’d never given birth, but you were certain this is what labor felt like.

The pain was like internal sharp pin pricks, but then it’d ease off into a more mild and dull sensation. No matter what you did though, the pain was still persisting.

“You look flushed,” he commented, worried.

“I’m about to burn up,” you said, tossing the heating pad aside.

He felt your forehead and looked even more concerned.

“Where exactly does it hurt, Y/N?”

You motioned to your lower abdomen and then to an area slightly to the right.

“We need to get you to the emergency room now,” he said, his mind made up.

“What? No! I’m fine!”

You tried to sit up and cried out at the sharp pain, tears forming in your eyes.

“Babe, it could be anything from an ovary issue to gallbladder issues. It might even be appendicitis, you need to get it checked out now.”

You knew better than to argue with him. Whatever plans you’d had for your birthday had just gone out the window.

•

You sat hunched in the emergency room as Spencer checked you in. You were in so much pain now, you couldn’t talk.

Unfortunately, it was a wait, but at least you were on the high priority list.

You sat, half hunched, half curled into Spencer, whimpering and clutching his hand the entire time you waited.

“I know honey, I know,” he whispered.

He alternated between rubbing your back, kissing your head and murmuring softly to you.

It took over two hours, but considering the normal wait time, you were pretty fortunate.

Things moved pretty quickly after that.

You were taken back, a full exam and blood work being done. Next, came an ultrasound.

An agonizing amount of time passed as you waited for the results of the ultrasound while still in a good amount of pain.

Spencer didn’t leave your side though. He tried his best to distract you and take your mind off of your pain.

He also was kept busy by keeping everyone updated. Between your parents and the team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, his phone had hardly left his hands.

Your friends and family were amazing, sending you birthday wishes, videos to lift your spirits, even some of their kids had made drawings for you. It helped some and you were eternally grateful for Spencer as he kept showing you new well wishes with a smile on his face.

The diagnosis came back quickly, when they saw the ultrasound. Just as Spencer had suspected, it was appendicitis.

“You’re in luck, our surgeon is going to be able to fit you in for this evening. We need to remove the appendix as soon as possible to avoid any further complications,” the doctor on call—Dr. Martin—told you.

“Happy birthday to me,” you mumbled.

After Dr. Martin left, a nurse was the next to come in. She administered antibiotics to help fight any infection and told you the anesthesiologist would be there soon to prep you for surgery.

The day had simultaneously passed in a flash yet crawled at a snail’s pace. You no longer cared that it was your birthday, you just wanted to feel better. You were exhausted, in severe pain and wanted to cry, as if that would make you feel any better.

“I’m sorry you feel so awful, baby,” Spencer frowned, stroking your hair from where he sat next to the hospital bed.

You mumbled your thanks sleepily and yawned.

“You should try to sleep,” he frowned.

“I would if it didn’t feel like there was a knife lodged into my abdomen,” you groaned.

After the anesthesiologist arrived and administered your medicine, you didn’t remember much. With your exhaustion and the drugs both combined, the world blurred increasingly around the edges. Just as you were about to give into the seduction of sleep, you heard Spencer say something to you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be right here by your side the moment you’re out of surgery.”

•

The next thing you remembered was waking up in recovery.

“Surgery went well, Y/N,” Dr. Martin said, “You should be good as new in two weeks.”

You gave a groggy groan and fell asleep again. It dawned on you that you hadn’t even checked to see where Spencer was, but before you could open your eyes to look, sleep took hold.

-

Your eyes opened again and it was dark outside. Only one light above the bed illuminated the room besides the moonlight that shone through the window.

“Nice to see you awake again,” you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend.

You looked over and saw Spencer refilling your water cup for you.

“I got you some jello,” he grinned.

“Ugh, ew,” you groaned, turning up your nose.

You were definitely not a fan of jello—much to Spencer’s dismay.

“Hey, I resent that,” Spencer chuckled, “Technically I asked the nurse for some for you, but in reality I’m gonna eat it.”

He walked over to your bedside, leaning over and kissing you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired and sore. Hopefully I get some good pain medicine,” you smiled weakly.

“Oh you will. Your nurse was just in here ten minutes ago and administered your first dose. She said it should be kicking in within a half hour.”

“Thank God,” you mumbled.

Your eyes raked over your boyfriend who—like he’d promised—was still at your side. He looked tired and rattled but relieved to know you would be okay.

“How are you, Spence? You’ve been up since 7 this morning,” you commented, worried about him.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he frowned, putting a hand to your cheek, stroking it gently, “I’m just glad you’re okay. I hated seeing you in so much pain.”

“Guess we won’t be having kids then,” you joked.

“Y/N,” he gave you a look, but he was smiling.

“Pretty sure I can survive labor if I survived that pain,” you said, “At least with labor you get an epidural. Spencer, invent an epidural for appendicitis, stat.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling, a trait you loved about him.

“I think you need to rest, honey, you’re clearly sleep deprived.”

“I don’t want to,” you pouted, “Can you cuddle me?”

“I’m not gonna risk hurting you,” he said adamantly.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s my birthday still, right? I want cuddles.”

His face softened, any trace of his earlier humor gone.

“I’m so sorry you had to spend your birthday like this, Y/N,” he said, frowning.

He pushed a piece of your hair off your face and sighed, seemingly resigned to something.

“Alright, you win. Scoot over.”

You smiled, moving slowly and carefully over in the bed in an attempt to make enough room from him.

He spread out next to you, positioning himself to face you.

“Better,” you said.

You smiled your first real smile of the day then.

“You know, I may have had a shitty birthday, but I’m glad it was another birthday spent with you. You hardly didn’t leave my side.”

“I’ll always be by your side, no matter what you face.”

He took your hand, bringing it towards his lips and kissed it gently.

“I love you,” you smiled up at him.

“I love you too.”

 He returned your smile, placing an arm very gently over your waist.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @sundippedprincess​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @gretaamyk​ @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​ @blushingspencer​ @simp-for-mgg​ @victorzsaszmydaddy​ @inlovewithamess @im-inlovewith-mycar​ @xshakesqueerx​ @queenofmischief​ @mattgraygubler​ @graceluvsyouu​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @alexisparmentier @la-vie-en-amour1​ @pinkdiamond1016​

[chrisemrysfics]

After my post on Wangxian and unconditional love, among other things, I realized I forgot all about a source of unconditional love for Wei Wuxian: the Wen siblings and remnants.

Here is the thing: first, Wei Wuxian had a few years with his parents, he barely has memories, yet he remember the sense of happiness, joy, and the love of his parents, both for each other, and for him.

Then, he lose them, and faces the streets. And then he’s picked by Jiang Fengmian, and brought “home”... and right away there’s an issue with Jiang Cheng and puppies. Yu Ziyuan also shows displeasure.

Jiang Yanli shows care for him, while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian make peace, however, from here on, Wei Wuxian is under constant disapproval by Yu Ziyuan.

And I believe Wei Wuxian is not blind to Jiang Cheng being hurt by what his mother says, and the apparent not-care his father shows. But he says it and I believe he’s right: Jiang Fengmian is lenient toward Wei Wuxian because Wei Wuxian is not his son. What appears as indulgence, is simply that he doesn’t care all that much past what Wei Wuxian is bringing to the clan.

He doesn’t seek his safety: he could have chosen to make Wei Wuxian stay to Lotus Pier rather than let him go to Nightless City, but he didn’t. He even said “he can choose”, which make him wash his hands of responsibility and make Wei Wuxian own up to his own fate. And his last words to me nailed the confirmation: he doesn’t give any word of care, he only echo what Yu Ziyuan said: protect my children.

Wei Wuxian grew up knowing he’ll be scorned by Yu Ziyuan regardless of whether or not he’s truly at fault, and knowing Jiang Fengmian doesn’t really care, as long as he’s around, he let him do what we want, knowing Wei Wuxian is loyal to the Jiang and to his children. Jiang Cheng express it awkwardly, but his attempts at “taming” Wei Wuxian “hero complex” is that he recognizes no one else is trying to stop him from harming himself (including his father). However, because Jiang Cheng let himself be influenced, he doesn’t show unconditional love, Wei Wuxian knows he cares, but Wei Wuxian also recognize Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand him.

This leave only Jiang Yanli that he can be himself with. We understand he feels safe with her, to show his true self, that he know he’ll be love without condition, because it is to her, and only her, he asked such a thing as “why does someone like someone else”. And that’s why his hesitancy to tell her anything about the three months disappearance is so heart-breaking, and she can be seen being worried still: for the first time, he doesn’t tell her.

And this shows how he views himself. For the first time, he thinks there is finally something that might be the one think Jiang Yanli won’t accept. That he’s become something that finally is where she draws the line. No one else before her truly showed any unconditional love, and he’s terrified what will happen if he let her see who he has become.

And it explain why he push away Lan Wangji: he knows Lan Wangji values are righteous, to Wei Wuxian, if Lan Wangji disapprove of him, it means he’s something that cannot approved of. Which then reinforce the idea that he cannot show Jiang Yanli what he’s become.

In the end, he’s traumatized, and scared to be rejected by the two people he cared for the most. He knew he felt pulled to Lan Wangji, he cared for him, he knew in his heart he valued him, just like he values Jiang Yanli. If he allowed himself to be vulnerable, and he got rejected, it would break him. So he didn’t take the risk.

All of that to arrive to the Wen siblings.

And the important thing I realized is that it never was a question of owing each other anything.

Wei Wuxian met Wen Ning, and showed kindness to him, which is pretty clear Wen Ning rarely, if ever, received, outside of his sister and the branch of their family. Its enough for Wen Ning to want to come when he hears about Lotus Pier, and willing to help them.

When Wen Qing enters the scene, she knows the risks, but there is a vital factor that made her decide to let them stay hidden and recover: her brother. Yes, she is a healer, however, it was risky to allow this, except, this was someone who inspired loyalty in her brother, someone who treated her brother well. Someone with a brother that was hurt.

Then, Wei Wuxian asks her to do the surgery, and she refuses. She knows what this will mean, and the thing is, I do end up thinking he’s not blind to how he’s been treated. He had to develop his own moral compass because either he’s scorned no matter if he’s at fault or not, or he’s “indulged”, or he’s not understood. He cares, and he sees himself as owing everything to the Jiang, but I feel like he knows how it can sound like. Wen Qing refuses because she isn’t certain he truly realize what he is asking, or she questions how willing he is, past any conditioning. But he insists, and she sees something that let her know that he does know what he is asking for.

Ultimately, Wei Wuxian is still misunderstood when people think his choice is because he’s been conditioned: yes, of course, we can understand someone shouldn’t have to sacrifice himself, that they shouldn’t have to “pay back” in such a manner... except no one asked. No one forced him to do this. He looked at his brother, and decided he didn’t want to see him like this. Wen Qing refusing meant he had the occasion to rethink his choice. He still chose.

That’s why they also speak of not owing anything to each other: Wen Qing chose to help them, and Wei Wuxian chose to go through the transplant. They understand the risks they took for each other, they had each other life in the other hands (if WWX and JC are seen, its death for WQ, if WQ fails, its death for WWX).

And that’s why they don’t seek each other, they owe nothing to each other, understand where they stand in the war, and trust each other has continued to follow the path of their heart. Wen Qing didn’t betray her values as a healer, nor did Wei Wuxian betray his own values.

However, Wen Qing ended up desperate, and there was only one person she knew had values she could trust: Wei Wuxian. She knows what she is asking out of him, but just like she didn’t leave Wei Wuxian and his brother to their own fate, Wei Wuxian would not leave her and her brother to their own fate. Just like he chose for the transplant, she knew Wei Wuxian would choose what is true to his heart.

And so they end up in Burial Mounds, Wei Wuxian once more doing a sacrifice, yet it is done out of his own choice, the refusal to betray his own values (be it that it was the care for his brother back then, or the protection of innocent now). And here is the thing: Wen Qing knows about Wei Wuxian’s core.

And the Wen Remnants are well placed to fear him, distrust him, be unkind to him, but they don’t. More than that, they welcome him as family. He becomes family to them, and they become family to him. No one judges him, they all see him, and none of them disapprove of him, and they care for him.

To me, Wei Wuxian only ever had two things that were truly his: his demonic cultivation, and the Wen Remnants as family.

He says it himself: he owes spiritual cultivation to the Jiang. But demonic cultivation? He chose to not die, to resist, to survive, to return, to continue following his own values, and developed his own tools for it. He saw the scorn of others, but knew his heart, and stayed true to it. Everything “bad” about him was his trauma, not his cultivation (proven as to how he is, after his death and return).

And the Wen Remnants, they became his family. The Jiang siblings are his family of adoption, but the Wens were the family he, himself, adopted. They were to him what the Jiang Clan was to JC: the people he would protect, the one he placed first.

If JC and/or JYL had no one else to turn to, WWX would have protected them too. But JC had a whole sect, and JYL was part of it. More than that, the best protection was to distance himself, the Wens already had a tainted reputation, like his own, but not his siblings (and same for LWJ). He couldn’t take that risk.

And the strength of his heart and values show when everything goes extremely bad: he accidentally kills JZX, he doesn’t manage to protect/save the Wen Siblings, and still he doesn’t outright slaughter everyone, he attacks after being provoked. He also stop when JYL show up, but because someone else tried to kill him, he sees her protect him and die to protect him... just like the Wen Siblings.

And he just effectively lost the last, and first, sibling who has loved him unconditionally. The Wen Siblings knew all about his lost core, while JYL knew about him in many ways. Loosing all three of them, effectively meant he lost the three people who knew him best and loved him without condition.

Is it so surprising that his psyche broke there? He went mad with grief, the trauma catching up to him. Then he finds himself conscious again, away from Nightless City, not knowing there is still one person who loves him.

And what does he decide to do? Break the seal. Now, I realized a thing: he didn’t die from breaking the first half. The accounts are confusing on purpose, but he himself is seen thinking about how he broke half of it, but didn’t have time to break the second before the Siege happened.

This means he knows how to do it without dying... or he was already half dead.

Then he looses the Wen Remnants, he’s Sieged by the whole cultivation world, including his own brother. There’s no Lan Wangji in sight, leaving him uncertain whether he doesn’t deserve to die in Lan Wangji eyes, or if he’s not even worthy of Lan Wangji being present. Or if its a last kindness, to not be part of the people who attack him.

But Wei Wuxian has lost everything, everyone, his own brother is here with hate and grief in his eyes, Wei Wuxian knows there is greed behind the Siege, and so he finishes what he started: he destroys the seal.

And to this day, I am still convinced there was no backlash, but rather, a last command, either conscious, or one he didn’t realize he made but born of how he was feeling.

However, because he never returned as a vengeful ghost, this make me consider that, for all his death was violent, he died with a peaceful heart.

He knew his own heart and values, and he followed them to his last breath. He knew the greed and blindness of the cultivation world, but what would he do? Kill them all? Be what they claimed he was? No. And then, to him, he caused the deaths of people he never wanted to: JZX and JYL. To someone who gave his core because he considered he owed it to the Jiang, what will he give, if he consider he owed to repay the deaths he caused?

He chose, died with peace in his heart because he followed it to his last breath.

And I wonder if the corpses “eating him” weren’t eating the resentment within him. That’s a whole other headcanon to develop.

But yes, all of this to say: the Wen Remnants were WWX family, the Wen Siblings became his siblings, and WWX remained true to his heart up until the end.

That’s why he didn’t return as a vengeful ghost, and why he was calm and level-headed when he returned. It also strongly imply his temper and so-called “lack of control” were due to his trauma. Yet, this just goes to show how strong willed he is, to both survive the Burial Mounds, and never loose himself, and show that he is truly the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, because he never lost himself through it, and still mastered it.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #456

“i don’t even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger, & that feels so rough”

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for? I know at LEAST over an hour. I was in agony. What type of TV shows are your favourite? Animal docs. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? Bitch I still am lmao. Do you know anyone who has died in battle? No. When was the last time you went on an adventure? Bro, I could NOT tell you. I haven't had one of those in what feels like eons. What brand is your vacuum cleaner? I actually don't know. I don't pay attention. Are you good at rapping? Never tried, but I'm sure I'd be awful. I stutter too much. Name one world issue that upsets you. Just ONE????????? Well, I can name homelessness as very high on the list. How do you feel about tanning? I hate it. I can't stand the heat, so why would I deliberately go bake in it? Have you ever given a public speech? Yeah, in front of the whole 4th and 5th grade when I was innnn... one of those grades, idr which. It was for my D.A.R.E. essay. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? NOOOOOOOOOOO I'm way too awkward. Kiss with your eyes open or closed? Bro who tf kisses with their eyes open, that shit is creepy. Do you believe you can change someone? No. One can only change themselves. How did you react when your first pet died? I have no memory of our first pet. Have you ever drawn anime? No. Can you use a pogo stick? When I was a kid, I became a MASTER. I got one for I want to say Christmas and I was obsessed. When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like? Idk, first he needs to get on Facebook and see I messaged him alsdkfjalkdj. He like never gets on there. Do you like bathing/showering? No. One, it's a chore, and two, it's actually painful for me, standing up so long and propping my legs up and stuff like that to clean myself properly. Have you ever considered entering a race? HEEEEEEEEEEELL no. Rihanna or Lady Gaga? Probably Gaga, idk. Who was your first good kiss with? Jason. What accessory do you want in your bedroom? I actually kinda want a TV now? What do you take the most pictures of? Flowers. What are you always in the mood for? Lately, Krispy Kreme donuts, lol. I haven't had one in a very long time, but goddamn does a hot glazed donut sound BANGIN' right now and has for days. What is something that you never turn down? Hm... how am I blanking??? What is something that you always turn down when offered? Certain foods or drinks, like tea. Name something sexy about your significant other. I don't have one'a those. What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up? Um, idk. As interests work, I may move away from any hobby eventually. If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be? Dance. If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be? Violin. Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? A mortician. That job doesn't even seem all that bad to me? I think it'd be kinda chill somehow???? I could NEVER be a surgeon. I'd be terrified of fucking something up. Have you ever been on a subway? No. Are you in love? No. Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing? *eyes emoji* Do you want to get married when you’re older? Yes. What was the last band shirt you wore? PROBABLY my Metallica shirt? But I'm unsure, ultimately. You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose? Ugh, I've been wanting a nice chocolate milkshake for a while. Have you ever given someone flowers? For Mother's Day one year, I collected some wildflowers to put in a jar for Mom. I've also given Jason roses before. I really wanted to give Sara some when I surprised her for her birthday, but I didn't want to ask her parents to drive me somewhere where I could buy her some, ha ha. What day of the week is usually your busiest day? None. My days are all the same. Do you have any concerts coming up? No, but UGH, I was so hyped a few days ago because I saw Motionless In White was going on tour next year, but of course they're going to the big city on the OTHER end of the state versus the capital, which I'm way closer to. -_- Bands ALWAYS choose Charlotte on the super rare occasion they come to NC... Do you like or hate the smell of fish? Ugh, I hate it. What’s your favorite brand of chips? Doritos, maybe? Between Mountain Dew and those... I am such a fucking gamer stereotype lmfao. Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud? I think I had to before in school? Idr. Do you like pineapple? Love it. Does your house have a dishwasher? Yes. A dishwasher is one thing I MUST have in my own future house. I cannot stand touching dirty dishes. Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo? Oh, absolutely. Sunflower tattoos are especially popular around here. How many different languages can you say goodbye in? English, German, and uhhh Spanish? Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies. I don't mind them. I've never understood the hate, honestly? I think he's capable of being funny. Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for? Only by myself when I was a kid losing my baby teeth. Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail? Nooooo. If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it? Fuck no, I hate it. What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds? I don't like those. Do you get cold easily? No, but I get hot extremely easily. Do you get a lot of spiders in your house? I don't think so, no. Do you admire nature? I positively adore nature. If only we treated it better... Name one naughty thing you’ve done. Done sexual things in places I probably shouldn't have, oops. Name two of your favorite things as a child. Pokemon and Webkinz. Do you own a Pillow Pet? No. They're cute, though. My niece has one. Do you tend to solve problems with violence? Absolutely not. Have either of your parents gone to jail? No. Do you know a hoarder? Yes. Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows? I just leave 'em be, honestly. Do you have any interesting scar stories? Not really. Do you hate the texture of meatballs? No, I love me some meatballs. Do you get migraines? Very, very rarely. They fucking suck. Do you like guns? NOOOOOOO guns terrify me alsd;kjfal;sdjfk Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') How much time do you spend taking surveys? A whole lot. It's just that I'm like... always bored and the randomness of surveys can add interesting little flares to the day, I guess. Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, for sure. Would you like to work at a candy shop? No. I don't want to work directly with people. Do you have feelings for someone? It's funny; now that I've settled the extreme indecision, I've come to realize that they're very strong feelings. How you go from being indecisive to really, really liking somebody, hell if I know. Which one of your guy friends is the best looking? Uhhh Girt is like my only real guy friend, so I guess it's by default him, ha ha. I'm not particularly attracted to him, but he's not ugly by any means. Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf? I'm so sorry. Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player? Either Ozzy or Metallica. Most likely Ozzy, though. Which song describes your mood at the moment? Hm. I dunno. Which movie(s) do you quote the most? None, really. Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date? None; we don't share irl friends, being many states apart, and not even that many online ones. Would you ever let anybody else drive your car? I don't have my own car. Which one of your friends will be the most successful? I'm not psychic. What store did you last shop at? Mom and I picked up a Wal-Mart order the other day. Do you think telepathy is real? Absolutely not. When did you last draw something for fun? A few days ago, I started a drawing of Maieykio for Sara. Who makes the most in your entire family? I have no idea. Do you like writing essays? I don't mind, if the topic interests me. Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal? Nah. Well, I think you can take it to an visual extreme, but that's just my opinion. Do what makes you comfortable in your own body. Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up? It's picked up. When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands? The inside of my elbow. Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? It usually happened at night. Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? Haven't taken it yet. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? OH MY GOD NEITHER Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently: No one, really? Well, unless you count my change of feelings for Girt, but it's just that: a type of change. I've loved him platonically since high school, and it's like, I feel the same for him, just in a romantic way now? Does your car have a sunroof? No. Are you closer to your mom or your dad? My mom. Have you ever had a friend with benefits? Nope, not how I roll. Who’s the last person you cuddled with? Sara. Unless you count my cat. Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook? Former teachers, yes. I feel kinda bad for 'em now... They're all the sweetest, God-fearing people, and then there's my outspoken (online) and liberal ass sharing shit that's gotta disappoint them now lmaoooo.

[katelynn-a-fan]

Fake title: Paint the sky

(I’m starting these up again cause I still have handful and it’s been... many months)

Okay so this is a wings au, where everyone is born with wings.

Except, Virgil’s came out... wrong, one of his wings grew wrong so he was grounded from day 1

So as he grew up, he was bullied for his defective wing, but one day in freshman year someone fought back for him when they kicked Virgil down. 

Virgil was wincing from the pain a bit before he was able to see who rescued him and when he did see who, he nearly had a heart attack as he saw strong jet black wings surrounding him protectively.

It was one of the relatively popular kids, who all had strong wings and could fly faster than most of the other students. 

“Hey, are you satisfactory?” “Why do you care?” “Because I’m not an asshole like them, just because I hold a popular position does not preclude me from knowing it’s wrong to bully others.” “...Touché.”

Virgil was Gay, the boy was smart and had a nice smile and was against the other popular kids and  had big strong wings...

Big.... strong... wings...

Virgil didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t even know how it happened, but he somehow was eating lunch with the popular kids, but mostly Logan, the boy who rescued him. 

He felt awkward sitting with the people he knew looked down on him because of his wings, but he grinned and bared it for Logan’s sake.

Virgil noticed that slowly everyone around Virgil even in normal class began to look at him weirdly. He of course suspected one or all of the popular kids, but he didn’t have proof.

It wasn’t until junior year, almost 3 years of grinning and baring it that the popular kids asked Logan why he hung out with a ‘defective.’

Logan surprised Virgil by snapping, he whipped around, pulling the kid up by his collar and growling at him to ‘say that again, Brad?’ The kid, full of bravado, repeated the question, but Logan brought Brad’s face up, millimeters from his face, making his intentions clear, expression dark and terrifying even to Virgil, who had never seen him more than frown, and slowly repeated himself one last time.

“Say that again?” “....nothing! I said nothing!” Brad’s voice was uncharacteristically high.

Virgil finally was able to relax, no having to worry about Logan going to detention for a fight, when Brad suddenly swung at Logan as he turned away.

Logan retaliated in kind, fighting back ruthlessly. Virgil froze as he watched them both fight each other, unable to move to stop Logan.

It wasn’t until the school resource officer pulled them apart that the fighting stopped and Virgil still stayed frozen as his best friend was taken away. He did nothing, and it was because of him that Logan was in trouble. 

That night he got a call from Logan, and he was so concerned for Logan, but he felt as if his body wasn’t his own as he spoke stiltedly, knowing Logan could tell something was wrong.

Virgil told him he couldn’t be his friend anymore, steadying his voice as much as he could to say he hate Logan, even as tears streamed down his face as he did.

He avoids Logan as much as he can, managing to avoid him enough that the only time they are in the same room together is at graduation.

Virgil pretends not to notice Logan’s gaze fixed on him when he is in sight. 

And as Virgil goes to college, part of him is happy that Logan can live his life without Virgil’s weak and defective wings.

And yet...

His parents did everything to try to coax Virgil’s wings into flight condition, trying surgery to correct the wing just before 18, though Virgil had resigned himself that he would never fly a long time ago.

The surgery succeeds... mostly. 

Virgil can fly now, but it’s on a time limit, anything past an hour or two takes his wings out of commission for a week or more, but his exercises of hovering every so often have proved his wings are getting stronger.

But just like before, Virgil didn’t let that stop him. 

He was interested in chemical engineering through college, but once he got out, it didn’t satisfy him, he barely managed a year before he quit.

It was in that lull, not knowing his future that he found one of his first drawings he ever made, tucked away. 

It was of him flying high in the sky with perfect and big wings.

Virgil smiled at the grand imagination of his youth, that if his wings were whole, he would know his purpose.

His wings still weren’t whole, but as he looked at the drawing, he remembered. 

Every time he drew himself in a doodle, he always drew himself in the sky, something he hadn’t been able to do for the longest time.

But he realized... it wasn’t because he wanted to fly, at least not completely, as he had done the same on his last paycheck receipt the week before.

It was the sky. He was fascinated with the sky itself.

And so it began.

Virgil had never really taken an art class before, but he went at it with all he had.

He desperately bought a set of paint, an easel and a canvas with the dwindling number in his bank account.

Virgil chose that afternoon to start painting. starting with the blue sky before the sun began to set and Virgil’s painting began to fade into more orange, yellows, and reds. By the time evening came and the sun had gone below the horizon, the painting had been finished, the reds fading into purples and blacks.

It was only then that Virgil stepped back, not turning on the light to see his work before he crashed on his bed.

He woke up to the sounds of his boisterous friend Roman calling him.

Roman talked a mile a minute, Virgil barely able to tell what Roman was talking about until he finally heard the word ‘painting.’

Virgil turned red, he had forgotten about his painting in the living room.

“You like it?” “Do I like it? Well, it would be hard to disagree with the almost a million people who have already seen it.”

Virgil’s brain malfunctioned.

“What?”

Roman showed him his phone, where a picture of his painting had been posted on Virgil’s Instagram among his few previous pictures, most were of his halloween costumes that got a few hundred to over thousand on his vampire halloween costume.

“YOU POSTED MY PAINTING ON MY INSTAGRAM! WHY DO YOU HAVE MY PASSWORD!” “Whoa chill, you haven’t changed your password in 3 years, dipshit. Did- you even hear me? You have almost a million likes on the painting. I like the eyes.”

Virgil’s fist stopped where he had been about to punch Roman’s arm.

“A million? How?! Wait... eyes?”

Roman looked at Virgil weird. 

“Yeah, the obvious eyes in the painting.”

Virgil snatched Roman’s phone, getting a closer look at his own painting, just now seeing the very obvious green eyes in the painting, as well as the more subtle outline of a very distinct set of wings that Virgil knew well.

A number of miles away, Logan checked his very rarely populated Instagram feed while he drank his morning coffee.

However, today he decided his home needed some as well as it was projected out as Logan spat out the mouthful of coffee he had been drinking, mouth open as he saw his own green eyes and his specific set of wings in a painting on Virgil’s profile.

The number didn’t even matter, it barely registered, but a smile spread on Logan’s face as he realized Virgil didn’t hate him as much as Logan thought he did.

After all, you don’t pain someone you hate into something so beautiful.

So Logan finally scrolled down to Virgil’s contact for the first time in years after so many times to reach him.

He pressed call.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Sirius on anaesthesia from a muggle surgery (needed for something his parents did or his incessant smoking) with lots of care fluff 🥰

((A/N: Mentions of child abuse, serious injuries, and recovery, and mild homophobia))

It was hard to find Sirius appropriately cute being all doped up because of the circumstances. James would like to make one thing quite clear: Sirius was adorable. At all times and in all ways. 

But the situation was... well, utter shite. It proved how much it was utter shite that when James accidentally used that exact phrasing in front of his parents, they agreed instead of telling him to watch his language. Sirius hadn't said (yet) what set it off, but his parents had gone completely mad. Beat him so bad he ended up in hospital, and the Potter parents had been granted temporary custody. Sirius was old enough that he'd probably become an adult before they finalized his custody with anyone. 

The cute part of this-- if there was one-- was how Sirius acted when he was all loopy from pain medication. James tried to enjoy the way Sirius would go full puppy eyes, and then he'd see the stitches on his head and have a hard time feeling good about anything. 

"Jaaaames," Sirius whinged, pawing half-heartedly at James's arm. His depth perception was buggered up with one eye covered, so he ended up a few centimetres short. And slightly to the left, but it was hard to say if that was an injury thing or a meds thing. 

"Yeah, Si?" 

"'m bored."

No screens, no moving... yeah he was real sodding bored and James couldn't blame him for it. The music Sirius normally listened to was punk, which Mum and Dad had declared too grating for his current state. That Sirius didn't fight them on it was proof enough that they were right about it. Sirius could sort of play games right now, but sometimes sitting up for too long was taxing, and again, depth perception was an issue. They'd tried to play Monopoly the other day, but he hadn't been able to put the money in the bank without fucking up and he got upset. All of this was to say that Sirius was bored, and while James was sympathetic, he didn't really know what he could do about it. "Alright. What- er, what do you want to do?" 

"What I really want to do is go got a malt from Fortescue's. Or have a smoke. But I'm guessing you're not going to let me do that." 

"Fuck no. I didn't like you smoking before, I'm sure as hell not going to help you do it now." 

Sirius gave a forlorn sigh. "Yeah, I thought not. What've you been doing?" He was pretty coherent right now, which was rare. His words were still a little slurred, but the doctors had said that would last for a while with everything going on. (They hadn't phrased it quite like that, but it's what James had taken from it.) 

"Staying with you? Your memory might be shite right now, but what did you really think I'd be doing?" 

"Hm. You're getting boring in your old age, Prongs." 

"I've gotten halfway through that series Remus was going on about," he offered. 

"That makes me more old, not less." 

James blinked at him. "Alright. Whatever." 

Sirius waved his arm at him, managing to hit his leg. "'m bored." 

"I can read to you?" James offered with a slight grimace. It's not like Sirius hated books or summat, but it was the only thing available to them right now and he'd always been more on the active side. 

"Can I pick the book?" 

"Sure." 

"Do we have any Seuss books here?" 

"Y'know, when you said you wanted to pick the book, I thought you were going to force me to read the history of punk or summat." 

"I want to hear you bugger up your words as much as I've been doing. Get one of those tongue-twister ones." 

"You haven't been that bad," James protested. 

Sirius tilted his head just to look him in the eye and give him a flat look. "Memory's shit, but I can hear what I sound like." 

"Your sentences are perfectly coherent." 

"Yeah, now. Didn't used to be." 

James didn't really know what to say to that, so he went off to find some Seuss books-- he knew that Dad had some around here somewhere-- with a careful pat on Sirius's shoulder as he left. 

*

"What'd your parents get in such a snit about anyways?" Peter asked. 

Sirius was healed enough that Mum and Dad had let Peter and Remus come over. "Told them I was queer," he said casually. "Well, technically I told them I was dating James, but like, same outcome for grandchildren. I guess they found it horribly offensive." 

James tried to remember how to breathe. He'd known that the Black parents were bigoted pieces of rubbish, but he hadn't realised just how bad they were. That they'd do this to Sirius at all was bad enough, but over something so trivial as who he liked to sleep with? 

"You're dating?" Remus asked. If he hadn't known about them, he was the only one. 

"Yeah mate," Peter said, doing everyone a favour by answering. "For like three years, where've you been?" 

"I-" Remus blinked. "Well I dunno. I knew they fancied each other, but I didn't know they'd actually done something about it." 

"How are you the dumbest bloke I've ever met," Peter asked flatly. 

"Practice?" 

James snorted, rubbing at his face. "Yeah, well maybe stop practicing. I think you've perfected it by now, Moony." 

"I second that," Sirius added. "Time to call it quits and make fun of us for being all sappy." 

"You're not the sappy sort," Remus said dismissively. 

Sirius and James shared a look. They kept things mildly toned down around their friends, but they were definitely the sappy sort. And even then, James was pretty sure they were more sappy in front of Remus and Peter than either of them really cared to see. "We'll see what you say at Hogwarts in a couple weeks when we're all stuck in the dormitory together again," Sirius said. 

"You gonna be better by then?" Peter asked, surprised. 

Sirius opened his mouth to give a customary answer that of course he'd be fine, nothing could keep him down, but then he stopped. He wasn't going to be going back to school with the rest of them. He was doing the work at home for the first month, and then they were letting him go back to Hogwarts if nothing else went wrong. The cut on his leg from surgery had started to get infected, and it had set back his recovery time. Originally though, he should've been able to go back for their final year of Hogwarts. "I meant you two having to watch James stare at his phone all moody and pining for me," he said with half a smile that none of them believed was real for a second. 

*

"I hate that you're leaving," Sirius muttered. 

"I hate it too," James said glumly, squeezing him carefully. He wanted to be comforting, but he also refused to hurt him just because he wasn't paying enough attention. He'd already asked his parents if he could stay here and join the term late like Sirius was doing, and the answer had been a firm no. 

"Don't get your phone taken away." 

"Wouldn't be the first time it's happened." 

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have anyway of talking to you. Or showing you my progress with liquid eyeliner." 

"Is that really what you're going to be doing while I'm gone?" 

"Gotta do something with my time. Homework doesn't take but, what, two hours?" 

James hummed in agreement. He knew it wasn't like that for everyone, but school was boring as all hell. And he wouldn't even have Sirius to help distract him this time-- not for a while, at least. "So what am I supposed to do while you're busy doing your makeup?" 

"Hone your doodling skills?" 

"There's only so many times I can draw Slughorn running a furniture store before I get bored." 

"Then draw a comic, you lazy bastard." 

"What if Grubbyplank takes it away?" 

"Ask for it back. After class, of course." 

"Of course," James repeated, rolling his eyes. 

"That sass is not going to help you." 

"Aw c'mon. By this point, all the teachers know what to expect from me. Whether or not you're there," he added, because it seemed like the kind of loophole Sirius would try to use. "But fine. Comics about us and our epic love." 

"We're already living that. You should make one where I'm a dog." 

"Are we still in love when you're a dog? Or are you my pet? Or am I a dog too?" 

"How should I bloody know? I just think being a dog would be pretty relaxing." 

"Unless you're one of those dogs that has to pull a sled." 

"Then make me a house dog that lays around in the sun and goes for walks twice a day. That sounds nice." 

"Going for walks?" James asked. 

"Laying in the sun." 

"You realise you can do that now, right?" 

"Every time I lay on the floor, you think I'm hurt and freak out." 

"You did fall once," James pointed out, because it was important that Sirius remember there was a reason to him panicking. 

"I tripped. I didn't fall." 

"Does it matter?" 

"Meh. Not really." Sirius sighed, grabbing James's arm and repositioning it so he could hug it. "I just hate that I'm not gonna see you for so long." 

"Maybe you can visit on a weekend." 

"Yeah," he said neutrally. "Not sure Mum will let me. She's more paranoid than you are." 

"I'm not paranoid." 

Sirius scoffed. 

"I just want you to be healthy, is that so wrong?" 

"Saying yes would make me sound suicidal, so no, I guess it's not so bad." 

"Just- I dunno. Send me lots of snaps." 

"Course. Can't keep this beautiful face all to myself. Hell, by the time I'm back at school, it'll probably be safe for you to kiss me again." 

"Here's hoping," James said, pressing his lips lightly to the top of Sirius's head. 

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 2: Chapter 9

Harry comes home: July 2016

Word count: 2.4k

Fair warning, I know absolutely nothing about prosthetics and I've made all of this up, especially all the new tech that Tony and Peter have designed.

The song Louis and Rori write in this chapter is Turn The Lights Down by Cavalcade

SkyFire 2 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

A week before Harry was expected home, Louis was still staying with them and he accompanied Aurora as she stepped into her fathers’ workshop.

“JARVIS said you needed me,” she said when they stepped through the glass door.

“We’re ready for testing,” Peter announced excitedly, gesturing to the prototype hand he had been helping Tony to build for the last few months.

“I haven’t met with a prosthetist yet,” Aurora pointed out. “Not sure I’m meant to be trying anything on yet.”

“No need,” Tony explained. “We just want to test out the neural connection to see if you can operate it.”

Aurora nodded in understanding, Peter having excitedly explained some of the science to her weeks ago. She hadn’t really understood most of what he’d said but she’d been able to grasp the basics. She swept her hair out of the way, allowing Tony to slip an electronic device around her left ear that looked a little like a hearing aid without the part that went in the ear itself.

“What is that thing?” Louis asked, watching on with interest.

“Normally the way the body works is that the brain sends a message down the spine to tell certain muscles to move. This device will pick up on that neural message and convert it into an electronic signal,” Tony explained, oversimplifying a process that had taken him and Peter months to design. “If we’ve got this right, that signal will be picked up by the prosthetic and move the hand.”

“So, you’re saying that Rori will be able to use the prosthetic hand just like it was connected to her and part of her body?” Louis asked, his voice laced with awe in the face of something he would have thought only possible in science fiction.

“That’s the idea,” Tony replied. “We want to avoid fusing the prosthetic to the skeleton like Bucky’s is. This way will be a lot less invasive and less painful.”

“Two things I am all for,” Aurora joked, attempting to shake off her own nerves.

“Ready?” Tony asked.

“Yep,” she said. “What do I do?”

Tony tapped away at his tablet for a brief moment, monitoring the connection between the device on her ear and the prototype hand. “Ok,” he finally said. “The transmitter is sitting correctly and it’s picking up everything. Rori, I want you to close your eyes and try to clench your left hand into a fist.”

Aurora followed her father’s instructions and the three men held their breath; the prosthetic on the table in front of her didn’t move. “Did it work?”

“Not yet,” Tony said. “It might be easier if you try to do this with both hands, just to give you something physical to focus on. Try to make a fist with both hands.”

They all watched as the fingers on her right hand curled up to form a fist, again the prosthetic remained unmoving. They continued on for another 20 minutes, trying different things to no avail.

“I don’t get it,” Peter huffed. “The device is picking up all the correct signals, but nothing’s working.”

“It’s not the device,” Tony replied. “Aurora’s spent the last 10 months not moving her left hand. Before the amputation her brain spent 6 months teaching itself not to move it because it used to cause pain. We need to train her brain to rebuild those pathways.”

Louis had been watching on in silence, not wanting to interrupt. Without a word he stood up and left the workshop. Everyone watched him go, confused by his abruptness. “I guess he’s not very patient,” Peter mumbled. “Don’t worry Aurora, we’ll work this out.”

She smiled back at him. “I know you will Pete.”

Louis returned a few minutes later, carrying the keyboard from the recording studio down the hall. “What about trying this?” he asked, placing it in front of Aurora. “You’ve been playing for over a decade. If your brain needs to remember how to use both hands, it knows how to play. You could do this with your eyes closed.”

“Louis, you’re a genius!” Tony exclaimed, smiling broadly.

“I’ve been trying to tell her that for years,” Louis joked, elbowing Aurora in the side. She laughed loudly, the tension leaving her body.

“Alright kiddo,” Tony said, turning back to his daughter. “Wanna play us something?”

She placed her right hand over the keys, the stump of her left arm resting on the table as if the ghost of her hand was also extended towards the keyboard. She took a deep shaking breath and began to play. At first it was disorientating; in her head she was playing both the left and right hand of the piece but only half of the notes were actually being played. She pushed through the discomfort, focusing on visualising her left hand dancing across the keys. She knew she’d done it when Peter let out an ecstatic whoop. She looked away from the keyboard to watch in fascination as the fingers of the prototype twitched and bent as if playing. A wide grin split across her face and tears spilt down her cheeks, her hand faltering, the song stuttering as she watched the prosthetic move.

“Holy shit,” she murmured. “You did it. Dad, you did it!”

She launched herself from her seat and into Tony arms, hugging him tightly as she cried. “I knew you would but oh my god. I’m really going to be able to play again. I’m going to get my life back. Thank you.”

xXx

By the time Harry returned to New York the following week, Aurora, Peter and Tony had conducted many more tests and work had begun on creating a wearable version of the prototype so that it would be ready when Aurora met with her prosthetists in a few weeks’ time. As a result, she had been in an excellent mood, one that was contagious, bringing smiles to the faces of all the residents in the tower. The mood was instantly apparent to Harry when he finally arrived at the tower, thanking Happy for the lift before taking the elevator up to the penthouse. Since Aurora had always enjoyed surprising Harry by arriving unexpectedly or earlier than planned, he had told her he was arriving the following day, and so he dropped his bags in the living room before going  in search of her. Steve was in the kitchen when Harry arrived, they hugged briefly, and Steve welcomed him back before directing Harry downstairs to where he found Rori in the recording studio with Louis. He smiled as he watched them together. Louis was sat on the sofa playing his guitar as Aurora danced around the studio singing.

Turn the lights down We're gonna shut it out Close your eyes now We won't know tomorrow Only one night No one's gonna see you here No one's gonna hear you clear

Harry continued to watch as Louis added his own voice to Aurora’s, the sound of a piano playing out of the speakers in the ceiling, clearly something they’d recorded earlier.

I saw you walking through the street Street lights bright on your misery Stumble down falling from your feet No one understands you

Louis stopped playing when he spotted Harry watching them, a grin lighting up his face and drawing Aurora’s attention. The next line of the song died in her throat when she saw him, rushing across the room to jump into his arms. The piano track continued to play in the background as he lifted her into the air, spinning them around as he kissed her.

“I missed you so much,” she murmured against his lips. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Missed you too my love,” he replied, chuckling as she planted kisses across his cheeks, her legs wrapping around his waist so that he couldn’t set her back down on her own feet.

Over dinner that night Harry was caught up on much that he had missed while he was away and shared his own tales from set. Once the meal was over and they all migrated over to the sofas, Aurora curled up in Harry’s lap, her head resting against his shoulder as conversation swirled around them. One of his hands absently rubbed along her spine, a pint clasped in the other as he chatted away with Louis, happily looking at all his photos of baby Freddie.

xXx

In the initial weeks following the amputation back in April, Aurora’s arm had been heavily bandaged and, in a bid to regain her independence, she had chosen to go alone when she returned to her doctor for her check-up appointments. Because of this, Harry had left for France to film Dunkirk before she was ready to have the limb exposed. So, it wasn’t until he was back in New York, 3 Months after the surgery that Aurora finally had to prepare herself to show him. Thus far she had avoided anyone other than her doctors seeing the stump without its compression stocking and despite growing comfortable with the other scars she had collected, she still felt vulnerable in an entirely new way showing it. Despite feeling exposed, she knew that if she was ever going to learn to be comfortable with her new body, Harry was the first person she needed to show it to. Rationally she knew that it wasn't like he would recoil in horror or anything, but she still felt nervous as she sat down facing him on her bed the day after he came home.

“H?” she began hesitantly.

“Yeah love?” He replied, reaching out to run his hand along her thigh.

“I want to show you my arm,” she explained, her voice shaking with her nerves. “No one’s seen it yet.”

“You don’t have to if you're not ready,” Harry said, shuffling closer on the duvet. “I don’t want to push you.”

“You're not,” Rori promised. “I want you to see it. It’s probably silly of me to be nervous again. I feel like I’ve had this exact conversation with you so many times. It’s just a big step, you know?”

“I do know,” he said, “and there’s nothing wrong with being nervous. This is different to you showing me your scars, but just like I said back then; this doesn’t change how I see you.”

“I love you so much Harry. I don’t think you realise how rare you are.”

Harry blushed always shy to receive compliments and he leaned forward to kiss her instead of replying. When they pulled apart from the kiss, Aurora’s hand fell to where the compression stocking covered what was left of her forearm and she slowly peeled the edge back.

Slowly Harry’s hands fell over her fingers. “May I?” he asked softly. She nodded, swallowing against her nerves as his long fingers removed the last of the stocking from her stump, revealing the angry red incision line at the end. “See?” he asked. “Nothing to be nervous about.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, and she found only love and acceptance looking back at her. “It really doesn’t bother you.” She hadn’t meant it as a question, simply in awe of how lucky she was to have found such an incredible man to spend her life with.

“Of course, it doesn’t,” Harry answered any way. “Nothing could change the way I feel about you. I hope you understand that someday.”

They kissed then and Aurora pushed Harry backwards until he was lying flat across the bed. She moved with him until she was lying atop him, their lips never leaving each other’s.

xXx

Louis stayed for a week after Harry arrived home, both men glad to have some time with one another, but eventually he flew home.  Harry spent a few days with Aurora, enjoying some much needed time together, before he returned to the studio to get back to work. After months away from music he was excited to be back in the studio and the team he had assembled earlier in the year were equally excited to return. Aurora spent more time in the studio than she had before Louis and Niall’s visits, jumping in wholeheartedly with the writing process, which Harry loved. She would occasionally slip out of the studio to either go paint or to assist Peter and her father in further testing for the prosthetic.

xXx

At the end of July, Aurora’s prosthetist came to the tower for her first appointment. Given the fact that Tony was building a custom prosthetic it had occurred to them early on in the process that the fitting process would need to be a collaborative effort that would go smoother with home visits.  Aurora was already in the workshop with Tony and Harry when the prosthetist was accompanied into the room by Happy. He introduced himself as Ben Sherman and shook everyone’s hands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he said. “I’ve been looking over your medical files Aurora, and I’ve also read over your designs Mr Stark and I’m very excited to be involved in such a revolutionary project. If it’s alright with you I would like to start with looking at your residual limb. May I?”

Aurora nodded, holding her left arm out towards Ben. She was only wearing a tank top, allowing him to take full stock of the limb. She winced a little when he pressed against the incision line and he apologized. He then had Tony show them the latest prototype and they demonstrated how Aurora was able to operate it, something she had been getting much better at over the past weeks.

Once he was satisfied, he showed Tony some examples of sockets and the pair discussed the best methods and materials for constructing one to suit Auroras needs. Once that was completed, he set about taking a mould of her stump for Tony to use to form the socket.

“OK,” he said when he was finished and had repacked his bag. “I think we’ll be ready to start trying things on in about 2 weeks, so if you think you’ll have the next prototype ready by then we can book in a time for me to come and help you try it on and get used to wearing it.

“Thank you, Ben,” Aurora replied with a gentle smile. “I really appreciate you making a house call.”

“Well this is a special circumstance case,” he said. “I’m happy to help.”

Harry walked him out to the elevator and when he returned Aurora was staring at the prosthesis with excitement. “I can’t believe I’m going to finally get to try it on soon,” she said. “I can’t wait.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[renee-writer]

Guardians of the Stones Chapter 12 A Wedding Night and Lost Daughter

Explicit

They dance. Jamie isn't the best dancer but to be dancing with his wife ~ well for that he will take the men's teasing. They eat and are toasted.

“To the Fraser's. May they fill Lallybroch up with children.” Dougal, his other uncle announces. Jamie flushes. Children and how they are made~well he had yet to tell his bride that he was a virgin. Claire flushes for a different reason. She knows she should have told Jamie that Fergus may be the only child they may have.

Fergus and Hamish had disappeared and then reappeared with secretive smiles and whispered conversations behind their hands.

“Miss Claire, I will be staying with Hamish tonight and…”

“No. Let it be a surprise.” Hamish interrupts. She raises her brows to the young men but they take off with giggles.

“I wonder what that was about.” Claire inquires to Jamie.

“I suppose we will find out.” He leads her back into the dance floor. They dance close and kiss between moves. It is soon not enough. “Mrs. Fraser, shall we retire?”

“Yes please.” She had been married before but to not to a man as giving as Jamie. The thought of laying with him makes her dizzy with desire.

“My wife and I will be retiring now. Thank you for sharing this moment with us and please stay as long as you wish.” A chorus of cheers and whistles greet his announcement. He smiles as her leads Claire away.

They will spend their wedding night in her room off the surgery. When they enter they discover the lads secret. The room is alit in candles and there is a tray of food and several bottles of whisky and wine also on the table.

“Oh those dear boys.” Claire exclaims.

“What a wonderful gift.” Jamie agrees. His bride seems a bit nervous so he adds, “ You needn’t fear Claire. I wasn’t planning on jumping you.”

A smile. “I know you aren’t. It has just been awhile since I did this and,” she pauses as she tries to think of how to tell him. “well, my late husband, he wasn’t into much variety. He actually was a bit controlling over this and every aspect of our relationship. I never felt like I pleased him and I don’t want the same for us.”

“Oh Claire. As we are discussing it, I was in Paris as you ken. The Parisian lasses are a bit more adventurous. I have done a lot. I believe I can please you. But, I've yet to complete the act.”

“You are a virgin?” She is a bit taking aback by his admission. But also intrigued. To be his first..

“Aye. So, my dear wife, if you have your insecurities, you are not alone.” It helps~ that knowledge.

“Will you help me out of my dress Jamie?”

She sees him swallow before nodding. His hands shake a bit as he starts to undo her skirts. When he gets to the laces of her bodice, he is steadier and she is quaking with nervous anticipation. When she is done to her shift, she reaches for the belt holding his kilt on.

“My turn.” Her voice is thickened by desire.They are both breathing hard as she loosens it and it and the kilt fall to the floor. Now they are both just in one layer.

“Claire, may I see you?” he nervously asks. She smiles and unties her shift, letting it pool at her feet. She steps out of it and up to him. He stares at her, wide eyed.

“So none of the French lasses got nude in front of you?”

“Nae.” Said in a strangled tone.

“Let me see you too.” He quickly pulls the shirt off and she also stares. He is like a living version of one of the marble statues she had seen in a museum. And he is hers! She takes his hand and places it on her breasts. He groans and bends down to kiss her. She soon finds herself lifted against his erection as he guides them to the bed. He sits with her on his lap as he kisses down her neck. She lets out her held breath with a gasp when he reaches her breasts and draws a nipple in. He suckles hard and she cries out his name. Frank had been a selfish lover, never seeing to her. Jamie was very different.

Ah Dhai! The taste of her, the sounds she makes, the way she moves against him. They all conspire to drive himself into her. But he is determined to see to her first.

He slips a hand between them and finds the secret heat of her as wet and slippery as an eel. He kens that is a good thing. He moves to her other nipple and slips his hand into her heat.

“Oh!” is said by them both. It is a revelation, the feel of her so hot and soft. For her, who had never been touched wit tenderness there~ Frank just did to make sure she was wet enough to enter, it feels like a miracle.

He starts to move finding the nub that is the center of her pleasure, he focuses on that. He lifts off her breast to watch her. Her face is a ever changing pallet of pleasure. Her eyes wide and dark, her breath quick as is her heartbeat, her tongue comes out and licks her lips as her head falls back. He slips one and then another finger inside her.

“Oh God!” She groans out. She is close, he knows, and he longs to do something he had only seen done. So, he lays her down and slips down her belly, kissing and licking her tender skin. She starts to shiver under him. No one had ever and she is literally breathless with anticipation.

He sighs when he breathes in her scent. She smells so good and he is anxious to taste her. He slips down and lays prone between her legs. He parts her curls with his fingers and tongue. He breathes in her scent for a second before slipping his tongue out to taste her. She taste as good as she smells. He feels her hands land in his hair and tightly grip. He takes that as a sign he is doing well and continues.

She feels herself~ all she was before, Julia and Henry's daughter, Lamb's niece, Frank's wife, a combat nurse, a time traveler,~ dissolve under his talented tongue. She is Claire Fraser now and forever. She cries out her husband’s name loud enough to wake the entire castle as she climaxes for the first time in her life.

“Claire! Oh Claire, I need!” she comes back to herself to find her husband's desire filled eyes on her. She does too and reaches down and guides him into her. “Iffrin! Christ!” calls out the man who rarely says his God's name in vain.

“Yes, God yes!” Her body still vibrates under the effect of her orgasm and his hard length filling her is enough to almost send her right back over the edge. He starts to move gently at first. She copies him and feels it rebuilt, that wonderful power. “Jamie!” she whispers as her legs and arms lock around him. He moves a tad harder, grunting with the effort not to cum himself. She sees and presses up, placing that thrusting length where she needs it. It is enough. Her next ‘ Jamie' is a shout as she cums in a spectacular fashion.

“Claire! I canna!” he cries out himself as he also climaxes. She pulls his seed deep inside as she remains clamped around him.

Some time later, as they lay breathless beside each other, he says, “It was so much more then I thought it would be. Was it~ did you find it satisfactory?” She almost laughs but realizes he wouldn’t understand. So she takes a sobering breath and turns to face him.

“Jamie I had never found pleasure in the act before. Yes, my husband, I found it very satisfactory.”

“Oh! I will strive to always bring you pleasure. I love you Claire Fraser.”

“I love you Jamie Fraser.”

They are awakened by a knock on the door that next morning. Claire groans and buries her head back under the covers. Not a morning person on the best day, after a night discovering each others bodies all that night, this morning is very difficult. Jamie laughs and slips out of bed. He wraps the kilt around him and goes to answer it.

“Mr. Jamie, Mrs. Fitz sent me to bring you and Miss Claire breakfast.” Fergus greets him with a tray of food.

“Mrs. Fitz is a smart lady. Thank you Fergus. Go check on the horses and I will be down shortly.”

“Aye Mr. Jamie.” He leaves and Jamie turns back to his bride.

“I will tell him today that he will be our official son if he wishes.” Jamie comments as they eat.

“He will be so excited. Jamie, there is something I should have told you before we were wed. Fergus may be our only son. I tried before, with Frank. I never caught pregnant. I know handfast lasts a year and a day. If after you wish to.. Well, I will understand.”

“Leave you!” he looks at her shocked. “Claire I married ye for life. Naught will change that. If Fergus is our only one, he will be more then enough. You are enough. You are all I need in this world.”

“Oh my dear husband just when I think I can't love you more.” He kisses her deeply. He ends up taken longer then he had planned to get to Fergus.

“Fergus, you know Miss Claire and I want you to return to Lallybroch with us?”

“Aye?”

“Well, if you are agreeable we would like to make you a Fraser and our true son.”

“Oh Mr. Jamie! I would be honored. Do you truly mean it?”

“We do. You are already our son. We would just be making it official.”

“I can call Miss. Claire ma?”

“Aye as long as you call me da.”

“Da. May I go see ma.”

“You may. She is in her surgery.” He hurries off and Jamie smiles broadly. He is a blessed man.

1945

“So you know where Claire is? We know she was running from her bastard of a husband and went through.” Henry asks. His Ghaildhig is thick but Father Mackenzie is able to understand him.

“Yes. She landed in 1745 and is happy and settled.”

“I am glad but my wife and I still would like to see her.”

“You must fully recover first.” He can't argue that.

Later he is talking with Sister Ruth. “So, you will send them to Claire?”

“Maybe. I have something I need him to do first.”

“Aye.”

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

He makes me livid! I get so mad!!! I don't understand him at all. He makes me go UGH but in bad ways.

I went off on him first before I realised what his problem was... Like total accusations and misfit drama. All paranoid loca. I don't give a shit.

I draw conclusions and those were the most obvious.

But when you know someone... You have to remember their stupidity. One time he confessed... And I already had decided to break up with him... I was all I'm waiting till his dad dies then I'm done. He's a good friend when he tries but he doesn't make me,a priority. And so I hadn't told him. I just tired of him,upsetting me so I had to remove me.

So he said he wouldn't do anything for his pain,then, he would take 2x his Percocet with 5 shots of tequila then treat me like shit.

I really hadnt noticed. I was all "oh he's just in his mood where he's decided I'm not important to him"

And true enough when he told me his dad died I walked away from our relationship.

But honestly ... Years later... I missed him.. Because he treated me best. Because I say I walked

I mean I left, completely.

But despite his faults he's always treated me best. I mean person to person. He didn't give me what I wanted from,the relationship. But as a low key friend, he understood me the most

He understood i was scared to go to sleep and he would stay on the phone and help,me,sleep so I could. No one else can do that. My daughter, if she was sleeping with me. I could listen to her breathe and I could fall asleep that way. Because it would calm my r breathing if she was sleeping that calm sleep,breath

But he knew all what to say. And I never had to tell him or even tell him I was afraid to sleep or even admit it to myself.

I hope this helps some of y'all that are anti medicine as well.

I don't like hospitals or doctors (I like my personal doctors But aside from them) in general. I'm afraid of them. They make me hostile. I feel like theyre some dangerous S&M dungeon

Go and wait for hours to get bad news then they don't give you what you need because you're so fucking exhausted they don't understand. Or don't care or are the ones that like to kill patients.

So I like my doctors although I have to wait for hours to see them past my appointment time, they take extra time to see me and cover what I think I need. Their quality is worth the wait. I have 3. Primary, Pain and Urgent Care. And I use the computer urgent care where I leave an online message after finishing a long ass quizz through the insurance website.

And whatever pills they give me, I Google to make sure they were right. They always are. Im also interested in what else the pills cover. Like i take 2 different anti seizure pills for pain and one also for insulin sensitivity increase and metabolic increase. And i take an antidepressant that also covers fibromyalgia.

I have 13 prescriptions. Monthly. Some I have to take more than once per day. Plus i take vitamins.

Then I Google the pharmacy pills to make sure the pharmacy was right.

So.

I get it. Sometimes I don't want to take 13 prescriptions more than once per day or even at all.

But we need to know what we are taking and why.

And why it is important.

And we need to take our medicine. So we can survive

I think this information is especially important during this epidemic.

Now realize that antibiotics are not useful on viruses unless the virus causes a bacterial infection. Like.

A cold is a virus but in some people like myself and used to in my daughter, causes a severe sinus infection which requires antibiotics.

I know the point at which we need antibiotics and so i go to my urgent care lady because she understands and we just do a walk in. And i don't overwhelm my doctor who is taking time to give quality care and has long waiting patients.

But otherwise a virus does not respond to antibiotics. And anti-virus medications are quite rare.

Flu shot... But not a cold shot..

So we take over the counter medicine for our symptoms. Like coughing and runny nose

Sinus pressure in the eyes, nose, teeth. Jaw.

If you have a tooth ache you can take sinus medicine. Because the worst tooth pain is actually in your sinus cavity! That's a secret trick. Works every time.

So basically anytime you have facial pain that doesn't respond to Tylenol or ibuprofen or alieve, you can take sinus medicine. Also ear pain.

Google sinus cavities in the face and you'll see why.

Now an ear and sinus infection is a bacteria, usually but usually our bodies can fight it Well without an anti biotic. As long as it is treated with over the counter medicine. But sometimes, like with myself and my daughter, sometimes an antibiotic is needed..but that is after at least a week to 10 days of serious green overflow that doesn't respond to over the counter medicine.

Sometimes the bacteria is lab revealed by terrorists during the "flu and cold season" to create an income for pharmaceutical companies. For my daughter and i, they're usually too strong for our immune system.

Although since my ex husband left town, my daughter's immune system has significantly became stronger. While mine has not. So she needs less antibiotics, than I do.

Otherwise, my body can fight it on its own with a few doses of otc.

I had a tooth pulled a few years ago.. It created a pathway to my sinuses. I could rinse water in my mouth and it would come out my nose. I saw an ear, nose and throat specialist whom said i needed surgery immediately to repair my nose.

I said no thank you mother fucker

I had to have clearance from my cardiologist. So i took a stress test and failed. So i had to have an ultra sound. It wasn't good. But they said I could have the surgery since it was simple.

I said that's cool, but I don't want to.

I haven't done it. So I get sinus infection and pain quite often. My bone structure in my nose is center in my right nostril. Meaning it's really fucking bad

From being punched in the face a lot. The surgery sounds fucking horrible. And it's a cosmetic change.

I'm all nope. I'm a single mom. She don't take good care of me. I'll drown in the blood sliding down the back of my throat.

The tooth removal was so bad... It was horrible. There was blood every where for days... I can only imagine the nose surgery would be the same

I also hate the smell of blood. So I'm like no. It sounds like the most miserable thing.

If I had someone to take care of me and baby me like a little blood soaked lamb in need of care... That's s different story.. But I don't have anyone that would take care of me

After my tooth... I was throwing up the blood and my kid just stood there and stared,. Which I wanted to hide it from her I was sick... But I was in the kitchen and began violently puking in the trash can... Scared her to death

"Mom I'm scared"

"I am, too. This has never happened before"

So yeah fuck that nose. I got one crooked fucking nose. And it makes me sick.

She wants me to have surgery so I'll quit snoring.

Well.

Ear plugs are at the Dollar Tree, babe.

So y'all take your pills that you need

Some one cares about you

And they don't want to slap your face off. But you'll drive them to it. And a crooked nose isnt all its cracked up to Be. It pretty much sucks.

I can't even blow it Like a normal person....

[argylemnwrites]

Seven Year Itch

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield)

Book: Open Heart (6 years after the end of Book 1)

Word Count: ~1500

Rating: PG

Summary: Bryce finds himself unusually sentimental as a large chapter in his life draws to a close.

Author’s Note: Written for Day 31 of the Choices July Challenge (prompt - Endings). This was an anon request, and hopefully it is as fluffy as they were hoping for!

Bryce pushed the arrow button several times before landing on the option that he’d rarely used over the past seven years. He hovered for a moment before pushing the select button twice. His pager was officially off.

He hadn’t expected it to be emotional. He’d even gone so far as to tease Cassie when she’d told him it would be that morning.

“I’m telling you, Bryce, it’s a big deal. Sienna and I cried.”

“Cassie, you didn’t even leave Edenbrook for fellowship!”

“It was still emotional, Bryce. It’ll be your last moment as a resident.”

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think I’m gonna get all torn up over not having to carry the first call pager or having to work 30 hours straight for $15 an hour.”

Those had been his words, yet here he was, feeling a wave of sadness wash over him as he entered the Graduate Medical Education office, ID badge and now turned-off pager in hand. As he walked over to the desk of the administrative assistant, she gave him a warm smile.

“Last shift, huh? Congratulations, doctor!” she said brightly, extending her hands out, taking two of the objects he’d carried with him everywhere for the past seven years and dropping them in a box on her desk.

“Anything else you need from me?”

“You already turned in any hospital scrubs?”

He nodded. He’d taken care of that last month, after his last operation. The past four weeks had been a medical education elective, and he hadn’t seen the inside of an OR at all.

“Then you’re all set!”

So, that was it. He was done with residency. Seven years wrapped up, just like that, with the handing off of a pager and an ID badge. It felt like it should take more than a simple drop off to bring this part of his life to an end. But that was all it took to transition from Bryce Lahela, surgical resident to Bryce Lahela, surgical oncology fellow. 

Bryce usually wasn’t one for introspection, but damn if Cassie hadn’t been right. He did feel emotional over it all, and as he got on the T, he couldn’t help but think back on the past seven years and everything that had happened. 

He remembered the surgeries, all his time in the OR. All the cases he’d scrubbed in on, the incisions he’d made, the tumors he debulked, the organs he procured. He remembered the doctors he’d worked with and learned from, some of them brilliant attendings, others his own peers. He remembered his patients. Not all of them, of course, but there were the ones that stuck with him. The ones he’d saved against all odds. The ones he’d lost in spite of his best effort.

And that didn’t even touch on everything that had happened to him in his personal life over the past seven years. Meeting Cassie. Buying their loft together. Sliding that ring onto her finger. Getting married and starting a family. Things he would have never anticipated when he opened that envelope on Match Day and saw he was going to Edenbrook.

He knew he wouldn’t be where he was today without her. She’d always thanked him for his unconditional support, but Bryce knew that street went both ways. Sure, he’d been there for her through a lot of drama during their intern year, but she’d paid that back ten times over, at least. From her ranking Edenbrook first when she was applying for fellowships so that they wouldn’t have to do long distance to her enthusiasm when he told her that he was going to go for surgical oncology, even though that meant two years of research before his fellowship. From her paying down his student debt once she started earning an attending salary to her covering the cost of all of his fellowship applications. And then, when he’d matched not at Edenbrook or Dana-Farber as they had hoped, but at Duke, she’d applied for a North Carolina medical license, even when she found out none of the diagnostics teams around Durham were hiring at that time. She was willing to uproot her life, move from Boston, and take a job that was not an ideal fit, all so that he could pursue the training he wanted.

As he got off the T at the stop a few blocks from their loft, he realized how strange it was going to be to leave Boston. He never really thought about Boston as his home, but now that the movers were coming tomorrow afternoon, he knew how much he would miss it. The restaurants, the museums and history, their neighborhood, their friends. Hell, he might even miss the winters. Even though he still said he was from Hawaii, Boston held more precious memories for him than any other place. And never was that more clear than when he stepped through the door of their loft, taking in the chaos.

Boxes were everywhere, stacked along the walls, piled in the middle of the living space, covering the table and the couch. But even with everything that was already packed, there was still so much left to do. The kitchen cabinets were all thrown open, and there was still a lot of shit in them. One of the bookcases by the window was still completely full. And far too many of Kendall’s toys were still scattered across the floor.

Bryce had never thought he’d be one to get sentimental over something like moving out of a place, but the birth of his daughter had changed all that. Now, instead of seeing a nice space that was a convenient commute to Edenbrook, the loft represented so much more. It was the first home that Kendall had known, even though she probably wouldn’t remember anything about it. It was where he’d first seen her smile, first heard her laugh, first watched her walk, first heard her call him “Dada” as she reached for him. And the thought of leaving that place behind was just a little sad.

As if his thoughts summoned her, she came toddling out of the master bedroom, making a beeline for a box in the corner that hadn’t been taped shut yet. She nearly fell over as she peered inside, but kept her balance for long enough to pull out her stuffed octopus before falling down on her butt.

“Hey baby girl, I think Momma had that packed up for a reason,” he said, scooping her up. She smiled at him, but immediately started crying when the octopus slipped out of her hands, tumbling to the ground. At that sound, Cassie came out of the bedroom herself, relief evident on her face when she saw him.

“Thank god you’re home. I ran out of strapping tape three hours ago, and she figured out which boxes have her toys. She’s been unpacking all afternoon,” she blurted out, dropping a kiss on his cheek as she brushed past him, picking up the octopus and returning it to the box.

“I think I can handle a tape run. You want me to take her with me? I can bring back some pizza, too.”

She smiled warmly at him. “You’re a saint.”

“That’s a new one. Hero, godsend, world’s greatest, sure, but never a saint. I’m pretty sure that requires approval from the pope.”

She rolled her eyes as she brought the stroller over to him, “I’m not gonna dignify that with a response. Pick up some more bubble wrap, too. I have the feeling we’ll run out at 2 am if you don’t.”

“You think it’ll be an all-nighter, then?”

Cassie sheepishly gestured around, “I mean, don’t you? There’s still a ton to do. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. Not like we both haven’t pulled worse for work.”

“I know, I know. But this isn’t the way you should be celebrating the end of residency. We should be getting a sitter, hitting up Donahue’s one last time.”

Bryce shrugged. Sure, seven years ago, that’s probably how he would have pictured his last night as a resident, enjoying one last drunken hurrah with his co-residents. But now, he couldn’t imagine wanting to spend this night with anyone other than his wife and kid. 

“Probably shouldn’t have knocked you up if bar nights were that important to me.” She raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to make a retort, but Bryce just shook his head. “I still get to spend my first night of freedom with two ladies, so I think I’m doing just fine.” She laughed at that, the sound echoing more than usual now that so many of their pillows, rugs, and curtains had been packed away. 

“Alright, Kendall. One last Boston adventure?” he asked, snapping her into the stroller.

Pushing her down the sidewalk, he decided to embrace this evening’s wave of sentimentality. It was only natural to feel emotional as his time in Boston came to an end. His life had changed so much, nearly entirely for the better, over the past seven years. And while he would miss the life he and Cassie had built here, he knew that no matter where the next seven years took them, whether they stayed in North Carolina or moved on after his fellowship, that they would make the best of things. Together.

Tags: @omgjasminesimone @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenchoices @octobereighth @feartheendlesssummer @tallulahshh @fortunatelywaywardsandwich @dreaming-of-movies @choicesarehard @pinkcoloredmarshmallow @kinda-iconic @choicesjulychallenge

[hiraeth-doux]

Untouchable (8/8)

Welp, this is it! This story is officially done. Thanks everyone who’s been following it, I hope you enjoyed it :)

AO3   |   FF.net

“Tell me,” she demanded, leaning against the desk in front of him.

He did.

Being their only daughter, Jenny had been the sun and the moon and everything in-between for Sylvia and Greg Campbell. Their golden girl, their whole world. Growing up, she had everything a girl could have – ballet classes, a French tutor, horseback riding lessons, you name it.

Her relationship with Owen had come as a surprise to them. They didn’t mind him, per se, but they also never bothered to hide the fact that they had expected her to do better than him, obviously not thinking they would last, although neither had said a word when Owen and Jenny had announced their engagement. And then he had left for the NAVY, and then Harper had come along, and ultimately, it was Jenny’s parents who had made dealing with a small child while her husband was somewhere across the world possible.

The day Jenny had been diagnosed with cancer, their entire universe fell to pieces.

“I don’t think they ever forgave me for moving her and Harper back here,” Owen breathed out, rubbing his face with his hands. “But my mother is a certified nurse, Claire.” He looked up at her. “What was I supposed to do? Let a realtor and an accountant take charge instead?”

Claire didn’t respond. Obviously, it was something he had asked himself before, the decision not an easy one for either party. She doubted there was a right solution that would have satisfied everyone. There seldom ever was.

“So, what do they want now?” she prompted him.

Owen dropped her gaze, his jaw squared in helpless defeat. “They’re not bad people and they’re not doing this out of spite,” he said in a whoosh of breath. “They adore Harper. But to them, she’s first and foremost Jenny’s child and only then mine, and they believe that they can give her a better home than a single father who is chronically late for everything and who can’t remember the name of his kid’s favourite film.”

Claire’s hands clasped the edge of the desk on either side of her thighs, her heart splintering at the sound of raw panic in his voice, and even more so – at the sight of acceptance of whatever was going to come next on his face. He was so used to dodging blows from life that they no longer came as a surprise, and you could only fight for so long before it got pointless.

“You know it’s not true, Owen.”

“Yeah, well….” He squeezed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just… I’ve already lost my wife. And then I lost you.” His voice dropped, getting hollower with every syllable. “My daughter is all I have left, and now they want to take her away. I can’t lose her, too, but I don’t know what to do, Claire. I don’t know…”

She pushed away from the desk and sank down next to him. “We’re going to figure it out,” she told him, knowing that she probably didn’t sound as convincing as she wanted to. “You remember Karen, right?”

Owen turned to her, the faintest ghost of a smile flickering for a split second across his face. “Even if I didn’t want to.”

Claire’s own lips curved slightly in response. “She’s a lawyer. We’ll talk to her, see if there’s something--” She cut off, the promises she didn’t know she could keep tasting foul on her tongue. “It’s going to be okay.” Reluctantly, he nodded – more in acknowledgement of her words than in agreement with them, perhaps. Yet, it still made something unravel inside her. And it was only then that it occurred to her to ask, “Where’s Harper now?”

He grimaced a little. “With them. They’re visiting for the weekend.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “With them? But don’t you think…”

“That they will simply take off with her?” Owen finished. “No, I don’t think so. I’m her sole legal guardian now, and family or not, if they did that, it’d qualify as kidnapping. A major strike against them if we go to court.”

“Okay, so…” She rubbed her forehead. It was late now, and the long day combined with everything he’d just dumped on her left her mind oddly empty. “We’ll talk to my sister tomorrow,” Claire repeated, then reached over to card her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, not missing the way Owen went completely still under her touch. “How about you stay with me tonight?” she whispered. He nodded slowly. “You’re not alone in this, and you haven’t lost me.”

---

When his in-laws showed up on his doorstep without so much a phone call earlier this afternoon, Owen didn’t think much of it. He’d been married to their daughter for close to a decade, and whatever grudges they might have had about his not being the ‘right match’ for Jenny in the beginning were long forgotten, or so he wanted to believe, rarely ever contemplating this anymore.

He had figured they wanted to visit Jenny’s grave after missing the anniversary because Greg’s elderly mother had a hip replacement surgery scheduled for the same week, and maybe to catch a movie or two with Harper.

After they had broken the news to Owen, the rest of his day had passed in a blur, feeling smudged like a half-erased pencil drawing. As ridiculous as it sounded, he kept wanting to pinch himself in hopes of waking up from what beginning to feel like the worst nightmare he could ever imagine.

With his brain so wired it felt like his skull might explode any moment, he didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep. But when Claire slipped under the covers next to him and he curled around her, breathing in her sweet, familiar scent, his mind went black the moment his head hit the pillow, a tiny bit more in peace than it was in nearly two months since their separation. There was nothing sexual about this, she merely gave him the only sort of comfort she could offer, but even that felt like so much more than Owen could ask for. And so he allowed himself to hold on the only anchor that kept him from being pulled into the open endless sea.

The next morning, he woke up first, barely breathing as he watched her sleep, her hair fanned out over the pillow and her hand tucked under her head. In the early pale light, he traced the line of her nose, counting the freckles on each of her cheeks, his heart aching from missing her, ready to burst from the mixture of affection and jittery nervousness coursing through his veins and pooling in every nook and canny inside him.

You haven’t lost me .

God, this couldn’t be real, could it?

At last, she stirred and blinked her eyes open, smiling when she saw his face next to hers. “Hi,” she murmured.

“Hi,” he breathed out when her hand curled around his lying on the pillow between them and her lips brushed to his fingers.

“I missed you,” Claire whispered.

And at that, he burst out laughing, a heartfelt sound rumbling from deep in his chest, as his arms pulled her toward him.

Not alone.

---

The moment Owen’s in-laws had dropped Harper off at his place, promising him to stay in touch about ‘ that thing’, he scooped her up and drove to Karen’s. Claire was already there, playing catch with Gray in the backyard.

“Honey, why don’t you show Harper your books?” she asked the boy when Owen appeared on the back porch with his daughter in tow.

Gray nodded and squatted down before Harper, motioning for her to hop on, and the girl scrambled eagerly on his back, clutching his shoulders. There was a major worship complex going on her side, and Owen shook his head, amused, as he and Claire watched them disappear in the house.

“So, from what I got from Claire,” Karen started when the three of them got comfortable in the living room, “the case is flimsy at best.” She turned to Owen and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “The good news is, you have a steady income, a house, and a good reputation in the community. Your daughter goes to school and is doing well there. There’s no way it can be qualified as negligence.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “And what’s the bad news?”

Karen sighed. “Your father and mother-in-law also have a house and a steady income, plus she just retired, meaning that she can provide child care without the involvement of a third party and they’re relatively young too – both under sixty.” She paused. “I hoped we could play the age card, but they can live for 20-30 more years…” she trailed off.

Owen scrubbed a hand down his face. “What are my chances?”

“They won’t get the full custody, no way,” Karen said firmly.

“But?” Claire peered at her sister.

“There’s a chance the judge might go for a shared one,” Karen admitted. “Fifty-fifty, that kind of thing.”

Owen swore quietly under his breath. “But they live in another state!”

“Hey, I’m on your side here,” she shrugged. “But you’ve asked.”

“Sorry,” he rubbed his eyes and exhaled sharply. “It’s just… God, of all the things that could’ve gone wrong, this was the one I didn’t expect to.”

“Look, I’m not saying it’s how it’ll end,” Karen pointed out, her eyes moving between him and her sister. “This is the kind of case that will depend on the judge, and the time of the day, and maybe a phase of the moon. You’re not breaking any rules, Owen, but your wife was their only daughter, and it’s great that you have two jobs and can bring home the bacon, but it also takes away your parenting time. These are the things that, strictly speaking, don’t matter in the face of the law, but your in-laws can just as easily play the sympathy card. God knows, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

He snapped his head up. “What about Harper? Will her opinion matter?”

Karen leaned back in her chair, forehead creased. “Yes and no. She will most likely be asked who she wants to live with. But she’s six. You’d be surprised how many children choose every day to stay in abusive and unhealthy households – and I know it’s not how it is with you guys, don’t look at me like this! – just because it’s their parents we’re talking about here.”

“Which means?”

“Which means that the judge will take her statement with a grain of salt, just to be safe.”  

Owen dropped his head onto the knot of his hands, the line of his shoulders so still Claire thought that he’d snap in half if she touched him.

“So, what can I do?” he asked after a couple of minutes during which no one uttered a single word.

“Nothing,” Karen shook her head. “There’s no case until they file the motion, just the talk.”

“But if they do, it’ll be too late,” Claire muttered with a wince, and Karen nodded.

“All I can suggest now is to try and negotiate with them. Offer better visitation options, more frequent contact, I don’t know. Whatever will pacify them.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I did. I offered them the holidays, all of them.”

“Well then…” Karen drummed her fingers on the armrest of her chair. “Don’t do anything stupid until all of this is resolved. Don’t give them anything that they could use against you.”

“Yeah…” Owen breathed out, disappointed beyond measure with the outcome of this conversation. Whatever hopes he had harboured when Claire suggested talking to her sister were effectively washed down the drain. “Thank you,” he said, offering Karen a weak smile. It wasn’t her fault that this situation was so shitty.

“Anytime,” she returned, her gaze darting between him and her sister when Claire reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

“Thanks, Karen,” Claire echoed.

Karen cleared her throat. “Well, now that we’ve done with the bad part, would you guys like to go to the movies with us?”

He exchanged a quick look with Claire who shrugged in the You-decide way, and then said, “Why not?”

“I’ll go get the kids,” Claire offered, rising to her feet.

“Karen?” Owen turned to her when Claire disappeared up the stairs. His gaze darted toward the hallway, and he dropped his voice to make sure no one could overhear him. “I didn’t mention this to Claire, but when we first started seeing each other, Harper didn’t take it well and I think she might have mentioned it to Sylvia.” He paused. “Maybe I’m wrong, but the reason behind all of this can be that they think I’m moving on from their daughter and it makes them feel… I don’t know, betrayed? Threatened?” He huffed. “So, I guess, what I want to know – if I’m right and if we make it to court, would something like this be considered as a substantial problem?”

Karen considered him for a long moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “No, I don’t think so,” she replied at last. “Your daughter adores Claire, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual. If anything, you’re kind of proving that you can provide her with a steady family environment.”

“Thanks,” he repeated.

“Owen,” she called after him when he got up as well and uncurled from her armchair. “I’m not saying that you’re correct, but it’s my baby sister we’re talking about here, so humour me, would you?”

“Sure.”

“Say, your in-laws offer you a deal – no custody battles and no lawsuits if you stop seeing Claire. Your daughter for your girlfriend. Who would you choose?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Both.”

---

Owen was still mulling over everything Karen had said when they pulled up to Claire’s house several hours later, Harper asleep in her seat in the back. In the early dusk, the colours looked faded somehow, washed out, her quiet street completely deserted.

“Will you stay?” Claire asked softly when he turned off the engine.

Owen glanced quickly over his shoulder at his sleeping daughter, then turned to Claire.

“She’ll be fine in the guest bedroom,” Claire added as if reading his thoughts.

One of his eyebrows cocked curiously. “We didn’t bring any spare clothes.”

“I’ll find something for Harper to sleep in. And you’re not going to need any.” A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, intensifying the one that blossomed on Owen’s face.

“So, are we okay then?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I want us to be.”

Harper found the idea of staying over at Claire’s delightful, especially when she woke up and found out that the bed in the guest bedroom had springs. After her bath and putting on one of Claire’s shirts that hung down to her knees, she spent a solid 40 minutes jumping on it like a trampoline until Owen poked his head into the door and promised to tuck her in so tight, she wouldn’t be able to move if she didn’t cut this out and go to sleep right this very second .

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” he asked Claire after the girl had fallen asleep and the two of them had found themselves in the bathtub, Claire’s back resting against his chest and his arms wrapped around her. Mellow and relaxed in the hot water, with the weight of her body pressed deliciously to him, Owen almost managed to convince himself that the past 36 hours didn’t happen. He traced his hand along her arm and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, holding on to every precious moment they got to spend like this. Like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“Maybe we needed a special occasion?” Claire offered with a soft smile, tilting her head back to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek. “I’m sorry it didn’t go the way you planned, with Karen.”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head, just above the knot she had twisted her hair into to avoid getting it wet. “I didn’t expect her to magically fix everything.”

“But you hoped she would.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted.

“Does Harper know? About what’s going on?”

“No,” he shook his head, his mood changing almost palpably by the second. “I asked Jenny’s parents not to say anything to her until we figure it out between ourselves. No need to drag her into this mess before it’s absolutely necessary.”

Claire sank into him, her forehead resting on the side of Owen’s jaw, her fingers running absently up and down his wrists. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this at all.”

“You know, when Harper was little and only started to talk and couldn’t pronounce her name properly yet, she’d say it as ‘Happy’.” He chuckled at the memory, his arms flexing around Claire as if in need to reassure himself that she was still there. “She’s run around the house, bumping into everything, and point at herself and say ‘I Happy!’” A shaky sigh bubbled up in his chest. “It’s all I ever wanted for her, Claire. To be happy.”

“I know.” Claire squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could go and fix it for him, make sure she’d never have to hear this panicked edge in his voice again. “And she is. She really, really is.”

“Thank you,” he murmured against her temple. “For this. For everything. For coming back to us. I don’t know what I’d do if--”

Her hand slipped around her neck, fingers gripping the hair on the back of his neck, and she captured his lips with his – a reassurance, an invitation - until the urgency in him shifted from worry to need, melting into something larger than life.

She turned around to stretch over him, her arms snaking around his neck while Owen’s hands slid slowly along her thighs and up her sides, savouring the feeling of her body against his. Claire’s breath was hot on his skin, turning his blood into lava in his veins. Languid in his arms, she pressed a kiss to his jaw, trailing her lips along his cheek to the corner of his mouth until he turned his head, kissing her properly. He pulled her closer to his chest, his fingers skimming along her back as his teeth nipped on her bottom lip.

Owen’s knees hit the edged of the bathtub when she shifted in his arms, and low laughter rumbled in his chest as he traced slow, deliberate kisses along her neck.

“We’re gonna need more space.”

A towel wrapped around his hips, Owen pulled the door open slowly, and then took Claire’s hand, leading her toward the bedroom, pausing every few seconds to press his finger to his lips to shush her, fearful of Harper waking up if they didn’t keep quiet. He pulled her into her room, his hand cupping her face immediately, lips finding hers, swallowing her giggle.

---

The world still hazy and unfocused around him, Owen rolled onto his side. Another moment, and he was pulling Claire to him, his fingers brushing her bangs from her forehead, their lips meeting in slow tender kisses, both of them still breathless and riding off the endorphin high, basking in the warm afterglow, their bodies tingling with low hum running like electric current under their skin.

A few minutes later, he was chuckling softly against her mouth, and Claire pulled back, a hand on his chest, to ask what he was laughing at.

He scrunched his face and shook his head. “I’m not… it’s not that.”

“What?”

It was incredible, really, how everything his grieving and guilty mind kept rejecting, his pain too strong for so long he almost forgot how to feel anything else, was right there, at his fingertips, barely at arm’s reach away.

Owen traced the lines of her face, trailing his fingers along her forehead and down her upturned nose and over her jaw toward her chin, reading her with his hands like a blind man in search of something outside of his realm.

This was what he wanted, every day, for as long as he lived. Her. Not even the physical intimacy, even though it never felt enough, her lean, cool fingers pulling the shattered pieces of him back into place, smoothing the jagged edges that threatened to tear him apart, sealing the seams with her lips. No, it was about coming back to Claire, her smile, the sound of her laughter, the captivating green of her eyes, her breathing in the night. Seeing her play with Harper, seeing his daughter happy again – all this was right in front of him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so alive, so eager to live and see what the next day could bring, his heart beating in earnest, elated and soaring above everything he’d been through. How long did he know but didn’t really know ?

“You,” he whispered, running his knuckles over Claire’s cheek, and the words he couldn’t keep biting back any longer tumbled out of his mouth. “I love you.”

---

“Claire?” A loud whisper pulled her out of her deep, dreamless slumber.

She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, half-certain for a moment or two that she had made it up until her gaze focused on Harper standing by the bed.

The clock on the nightstand read 3.46 AM, and Claire stifled a yawn, fighting off the fog in her head. She pushed up, propping herself on her elbow and thanking heavens that she and Owen were dressed – a precaution taken before she had unlocked the door when they were about to turn in for the night, worried that the girl might get scared if she woke up alone in an unfamiliar place.

“What is it, baby?” Claire whispered.

Behind her, Owen didn’t even stir, his soft snores filling the room.

Harper rubbed her eyes sleepily, her nose scrunched. “I had a bad dream. Can I stay with you and daddy here? Just this one time.”

“Of course.” Claire slid back and closer the furnace of a man who could seemingly sleep through a nuclear war to make more room for the girl, and Harper climbed next to her, curling in on herself after Claire tucked the blanket carefully around her.

She was already asleep by the time Claire’s head touched the pillow again.

---

Claire had picked up sketching after the accident.

When the days she needed to stay in bed, barely able to do anything without help had turned first into weeks and then into months, it had become clear to her very quickly that there were only so many things a person could do before going crazy from boredom. The TV had lost its appeal almost instantly – for one thing, most of the daytime programs were dumb as hell, and since her life got fucked up stark in the middle of the ice-skating competition season, the channels had been full of live feeds from events all over the country as well as reruns that she had no desire to even be aware of, let alone watch.

The first time Claire saw someone else, a girl in a blue dress, perform her short program routine, she wanted to throw a remote at her parents’ TV set. She had settled on crying for the next three days instead.

After that, the TV had been deemed a backup alternative to everything else. Something that Claire rarely turned to.

She would read instead, but it had also become too much after a few weeks when she grew restless and impatient and in a desperate need of something more creative than that. It was when Karen had caught her doodling in the margins of a book that she had brought Claire a sketchpad and a box of charcoal pencils. It had hardly changed Claire’s life, but it sure made killing those endless hours of nothingness easier.

By the time she had been capable of walking around without assistance, Claire had a few dozens of sketch pads filled with everything from doodles of flowers to attempted copies of famous drawings and paintings she’d done with the help of online How To tutorials. She was no genius, but she had a good eye and enough time to master something that required patience and scrupulous work. And at some point, she had figured out that not only did she have plenty of both, but that she also rather liked it.

Up until a certain point in her life, Claire had associated the idea of a college with a sports scholarship of some sort, and when that had fallen through, she had stopped considering the possibility of getting a degree altogether. However, when Karen had suggested she submitted some of her works to the Art School of the University of Wisconsin, it didn’t sound as insane as Claire had first thought it might.

Although, frankly, if she had known back then that it would ultimately lead to spending her nights bend over her desk because the client needed a draft of something or other submitted on short notice, she’d probably think twice about her career choices.

Sometime around nine, she straightened her back and rolled her stiff shoulders, wincing at the sound of cracks and pops in her neck. Owen had texted her a while ago asking if she’d like to come over and offering to bring her pizza if the answer was no, but she had to turn down both options. Mr. Masrani expected her to send in her side of the project within the next couple of hours, and just thinking about Owen was distracting enough. Having him and Harper around would be a disaster.

She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes, contemplating another cup of coffee. It might keep her up all night, which was a downside, of course, but with its help, there was a chance she wouldn’t fall asleep mid-stroke.

Instead, she decided that it was time to have a short break and get some dinner. The thought of that pizza that Owen had mentioned earlier made her stomach grown, reminding her that she hadn’t had anything to eat since late morning, making her go through her options on her mind.

She could have ordered something, Claire mused absently, but after being cooped inside for most of her day, she decided that getting out of the house was her number one priority. If she didn’t, she feared that her head would fall off her rigid neck.

Still rubbing the sand out of her eyes, Claire slid off her tall chair and headed for the door, grabbing the car keys from the bowl in the hallways as she passed it.

She was driving back home down the quiet, dark street, her Chinese takeaway sitting on the passenger seat next to her when her eyes snatched a familiar figure hunched under a streetlamp, small shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

“Harper?” Claire muttered, straining her eyes, almost certain that the girl was nothing but a figment of her imagination so wild the idea of Owen’s daughter being outside alone in the dark was. So shocking.

Claire hit the brakes, her car coming to an abrupt halt with a screech of tires. She was climbing out before it even fully stopped, fumbling with the door for a moment too long.

“Harper!”

The girl snapped her head up at the sound of her name, and before Claire knew it, a small body barreled into her in the middle of an empty street, thin arms wrapping around her thighs.

“Oh god,” she murmured, her own arms coming to rest around the girl. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s alright.” Claire’s eyes darted up and down the street. It took her a moment to realize that they were only a few of blocks away from Owen’s place. Which still didn’t explain anything, and the fear stirred inside of. “What happened?”

She tugged at Harper’s arms to break free from her hold and crouching down in front of the girl whose face was streaked with tears. She was breathing through convulsive sobs, her small shoulders shaking and her lips trembling.

Claire’s stomach clenched. “What is it?” she asked almost numbly, her imagination offering her a full range of the worst-case scenarios, vivid and bright and surprisingly detailed. A fire. A car crash. A robbery. Something bad that happened to Harper—

After this one, her mind went blank.

“I don’t want to go live with Grandma Sylvia and Grandpa Greg,” Harper muttered between sniffles, and then her small face started to crumple again, and Claire drew her close again, stroking the girl’s hair, weak in the knees with relief that it wasn’t anything deadly and irreparable. “They said that every child needs a mommy and a daddy, and now that my mommy is dead, daddy is not enough and they will be my new mom and dad.”

She was clutching Claire so tight that Claire could feel the frantic beating of her small heart, her frightened tears soaking Claire’s shirt.

“Shh,” Claire kissed the side of Harper’s head.

“But… I have daddy … and you,” she mumbled. “You can be my mommy. Why do I have to go?”

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Claire picked her up, and the girl wrapped her arms around her neck and her legs around Claire’s waist as if determined not to ever let go. “First, we need to call your dad, okay? He’s probably lost his mind--”

As if on cue, her phone let out a series of persistent shrills, Owen’s caller ID blinking on the screen. Somehow, Claire managed to slide the answer button without dropping the girl, her hands shaking.

“Owen?... Yes, I know. I’ve got her.” A pause. “I don’t know… Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

By the time Owen showed up at Claire’s house not ten minutes later, Harper was asleep in the guest room, too emotionally exhausted to stay awake.

“Where is she--” he began, stepping through the door, but Claire pressed a finger to his lips, telling him to stay quiet and then pointed upward to the second floor.

He pushed past her and climbed the stairs two at a time, needing to see for himself that his daughter was safe. The girl was curled under the comforter, her breathing deep and even and her face still slightly blotchy from crying. Slowly, he walked over to the bed and pulled the comforter further up her body, careful not to wake her up.  

Afterwards, he found Claire in the kitchen, fumbling with the kettle.

She turned around at the sound of his footsteps, struck by how worn her looked, the lines around his eyes deeper than she remembered.

“What happened?” she asked, watching him attempt to smile at her. It came out as a grimace instead.

“I asked Greg and Sylvia to come over, to try and reason with them again.” His eyes when they met Claire’s were wild, her expression so pained she could feel it in her bones. She stepped toward him and wrapped her hands around his waist, listening to his ragged breathing. “Harper was supposed to be in her room getting ready for bed. When my father-in-law started to yell at me about the whole moving Jenny here thing, she heard him and came downstairs, and then Sylvia outright told her they were taking her away from me.”

He cut off as if it physically hurt him to talk about this.

“Oh, Owen…”

“She started to cry. I told her to go to her room, where she was supposed to stay.” His hands bunched fistfuls of Claire’s shirt in helpless fear. “She must have snuck out. God, I didn’t even check up on her until they had left.”

Claire ran her hand up and down his back. “She’s okay, everyone is okay,” she murmured, the words not as important as the soothing sound of her voice.

“She didn’t go that far, but sometimes, it’s all it takes. Do you have any idea--” He swallowed, unable to finish his thought. Claire did. Six-year-olds in the dark didn’t really scream ‘good-idea’, all things considered. She did, after all, jump to the exact same conclusion not thirty minutes ago. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am an unfit father.”

“You know it’s not true,” she whispered. “She must’ve thought they were going to take her away tonight and got scared.”

His short laugh was humourless and sharp to her ears. “Well, welcome to the club.” He rested his cheek on top of her head. “Shit, so much for not bothering you tonight.”

She chuckled into his chest. “I should’ve known.”

Owen sighed and pulled away from her. “We should get out of your hair.”

“Don’t be absurd.” She squeezed his hand, a nervous chuckle bubbling up in her chest. “I was basically promoted to the role of ‘mommy’ tonight. You can’t just leave when I’m freaking out about it.”

A small half-smile flashed across his face, gone before Claire could register it. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “You don’t look like you’re freaking out.”

“Oh, but I am,” she assured him, “and I might need some help dealing with it.”

Owen wrapped his arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss into her hair. “It’s like I said – welcome to the club.”

---

6 months later

It was Harper who gave Claire the idea, and in retrospect, it was practical more than anything else.

The girl needed a mother and a father, and that was something that Claire could fix.

After laying her plan out to Owen, she asked Karen to prepare the paperwork, stating explicitly that his rights must remain intact no matter what. If anything, it was meant to be just a safety net in case something happened to Owen, but on the day Claire Dearing officially became a legal guardian to Harper Elizabeth Grady, Sylvia and Greg Campbell withdrew their custody claim.

“You know what that means, right?” Owen asked Claire when they walked out of Karen’s office, each holding a copy of guardianship papers.

“That I must brace myself for a soon-to-be-teenager?” she inquired, slipping her hand into his, and then shuddered dramatically, “God, please tell me I don’t have to learn how to cook .”

“No, you weirdo.” He dipped his head to press his mouth to Claire’s for a quick kiss. “You might have to move in with us.”

Her lips stretched into a grin. “Well, technically speaking--”

“Technically speaking, we really want you to,” he said, his voice dropping, and Claire’s heart made a flip in her chest, plunging down all the way from thirty thousand feet in the sky without a parachute. “Don’t make me sic Harper on you,” he added quickly when she opened her mouth, probably thinking that Claire was going to argue. “I know you can’t say no to her.”

“Well, there must be something about your family as a whole, then…” She rolled her eyes. “And I was just going to say that I might not have enough boxes so we’ll have to pick up some more this weekend. If you were indeed serious about the whole moving in thing.” Eyebrows arched, Owen squeezed her fingers, beaming for all he was worth. “Also, dibs on that blue cup that I like.”

His jaw dropped comically. “But it’s my favourite!”

“Take it or leave it, Grady,” Claire snorted, biting back her smile.

Owen threw his arm around her neck and kissed her on the hair, the two of them blocking the pathway on a busy afternoon, and not caring one bit about it.

“You can have it so long as I got dibs on you.”

[hustlemeanokay]

So, I finally got my prescriptions. On one hand, I’m glad... on the other, a little worried that my new doctor just... kinda took my word for what I take? She just... no previous records just straight up prescribed me my lyrica, celebrex, bupoprion, and this weird powder stuff that is supposed to help my stomach chill the fuck out. That last one isn’t so concerning but the others are. Like, I mean... I’m legit with my meds but I coulda not been? Ya know? 

(So... this post got kind of out of hand... lots of venting and personal bitching below... just... yeah)

On another note... I’m fairly certain my remaining ovary has a pretty large cyst on it and will probably have to be removed, just like my right one did. And, I’m fairly certain I have a pretty bad infection in my mouth because my teeth are crapping out on me at an alarming rate... I swear it’s like one part of the body tells the other “psst, hey... it’s about to go down, you in?” and the other part is like “fuck yeah, I’m in!” 

So, I need to get into a dentist to have my teeth just fucking pulled - seriously, I’m done with them. I’ve spent over four thousand dollars and they’re all crap. Unfortunately, I can’t afford dentures at the moment but we’re hoping the house sells soon. But, I’m going to go ahead and make an appointment to at least find out exactly how much 16 extractions are going to cost and a full set of dentures. I’m nowhere near being able to afford the last quote I got to have implant supported dentures (this dentist looked me straight in the eye and told me it would be $40,000... to which I was like “dude, you’re on a totally different planet...” but whatever). 

This isn’t one of those posts begging for money or anything just me venting. It’s frustrating living with a body that’s trying to systematically shut the fuck down around you. I’m exhausted all the time yet I can’t fucking sleep because I’m in pain from literally head to toe (literally, my forehead hurts... what the actual fuck?). I’m hoping that being back on my meds will start to make it bearable. Lyrica and celebrex were helping before, they didn’t make the pain go all the way away but it at least made it bearable. 

Also, we live in a third floor walk-up (another thing that is so changing when that house sells) - I take my kids to school every morning (different times so that’s two trips) and pick them up every afternoon. So, every Monday through Friday, I’m going up and down three flights of stairs at least three times a day. If we go grocery shopping or anywhere after my husband gets home - that’s another whole set of stairs. We’ve lived here for over a year, you would think that I’d be... I don’t know... maybe... used to it? Or at least able to make it up or down without my knees screaming at me. Or maybe I’d be in better shape, yeah? Nope. 

Naturally, they weighed me at the doctor’s office. I’ve gained twenty pounds in the past year. What the fuck. I literally cannot eat anymore than a handful of food before I’m full - and twenty-thirty minutes later I’m in the bathroom so stuff goes right through me, I can’t be absorbing very much.... I don’t drink sodas, I don’t regularly eat sweets (I have some candy now because Halloween)... I rarely eat breakfast and when I do, I don’t eat lunch - and I eat dinner and another small meal later in the night because I can’t fucking sleeps so I’m up until like 2 or 3 am every god damned night. I’ve counted calories for months and I struggle to hit even 1500 in a day. So, how the fuck am I gaining weight. 

I’m usually a pretty toned down person when it comes to talking about myself, I don’t like to draw attention over here. I’m just one of those behind the scenes kind of people... but damn I’m getting frustrated. 

I literally cannot remember a time without pain, without insomnia. My Mom took me to the doctor when I was like fucking ten because I was tired all the time, sore all the time, and yet couldn’t sleep. At first they thought I was anemic. Nope. 

That leads me to another part of my frustration. My lab work, blood tests etc, all always come back normal. I’ve had x-rays from head to toe to rule out RA or anything like that - nothing - everything was “normal”. I know every lab has their own range of normality but damn, come on. 

Over the past five years or so, I’ve started growing a fucking beard. Like, facial hair, dude... with that, I am just fucking done. Yet doctors are all “well, you’re levels are normal”. Bitch, I don’t fucking care! Look at my fucking face! Something is clearly not normal. For quite a few years I would gain 10 pounds, drop twenty, gain fifteen, drop thirty... without changing anything at all, nothing. Not my diet, not my activity level, nothing. And they were all “you’re perfectly healthy”. Dude, random sudden wild ass weight gain and loss is not healthy. Something is clearly wrong. 

I wish, just once, a doctor would treat the symptoms, not the test results. As such, I’ve been saddled with the “we don’t fucking know anymore” diagnosis of Fibromyalgia, which is a recognized disability. But, like nearly all chronic pain conditions, it’s often just brushed aside because it can’t be seen. 

I don’t know where I was going with this, I’m just bitching - I guess. I’d just like... ya know, for once... to just be able to exist without something hurting. To be able to actually exist without my mouth hurting. To be able to smile or go out in public without extreme pain (my partial denture fucking hurts and to get a new one is fucking pointless because all the remaining teeth need to come out...). To be able to just... sleep. Just go to sleep. And wake up actually feeling like I went to sleep! That’d be a fucking miracle. 

And that’s not all! Because apparently my uterus fucking hates me, ever since I had to have that ovary removed, my periods are insane. I don’t cramp around my abdomen like I did before (and I mean this stuff started period one after that surgery)... instead, I get stabbing sharp pain in my outer thighs... it starts in the right and moves up and around the back and down the left... and! Omg, fucking gross. Clots. Massive, huge, fucking gross clots. I go through a super tampon in like a fucking hour and it’s fucked up. It’s just all fucked up! 

So, that’s probably why I’m venting. Right now I’m hurting all over, exhausted but can’t sleep, bleeding like a fucking dying animal, can’t eat without hurting... just fucking miserable. 

[acaseforpencils]

The Ink Well Foundation.

The Ink Well Foundation is a non-profit that helps bring smiles to the faces of children facing adversity such as illness, neglect, and abuse. I cannot begin to express how big of an honor it is to have Elizabeth Winter on Case—this interview brought me to tears, and it means a lot to share her message on here, so that you all can help more children in need to be able to connect with this incredible foundation.

Bio: I am the Founder and Executive Director of the Ink Well Foundation. Growing up, I had cancer my entire childhood—it was a rare cancer that kept getting misdiagnosed, which meant a fair amount of biopsies and days in the hospital, and finally major surgery where I was told I might wake up without a leg. I am very fortunate in that the doctors were able to remove all the cancer without amputating, and I have been cancer-free since I was about 20 years old. 

That experience gave me a lot of empathy and compassion for kids facing long, isolating hospital stays. There were also other issues during my childhood: I experienced a lot of abandonment with a mother who just could not play the role of mother, and who eventually died when I was fifteen. In general, I just had a pretty severe lack of affection and emotional support growing up. All that made me very tough, in some ways too tough and it wound up creating only further isolation and pain. 

As an adult, I saw that pain mirrored in other children's eyes and I began to seek out a way to connect with them, to help them and myself learn to nurture and heal together. I strongly feel that genuine human bonding can fuel both physical and emotional healing. I also think getting out into nature and carrying that same respect to all wildlife helps us to become humble and connected in a very powerful way, so we stress those ideas in our work often.

In 2005, I was working in animation in New York City, and I stood up in a meeting at work one day, and asked if any of the other artists would like to come along with me to draw with kids facing illness and hardship. A couple people raised their hands, and we went together to Gilda's Club out in Brooklyn (that club house has since closed, but we still go to the one in Manhattan). The artists who came along in those early years, like Rami Efal and Ray Alma, Pedro Delgado and Sergei Aniskov—those people are all still volunteers today! That says so much to me about the kind of people this work attracts. We've all become like family over the years and I love those guys so much. 

It all began at Gilda's Club, but then I reached out to places like the Ronald McDonald House, St. Mary's Hospital and Bellevue Hospitals, and we slowly but surely became accepted and welcomed at healthcare and at-risk support centers all across New York, because the kids loved what we did, and at then end of every event they were begging us to come back. So we always did! That is the true mark of success for me every time, when the kids are yelling at us to get back there as soon as we can.

A few years ago, I learned about the great organization on the Upper East Side, The Society of Illustrators. Their Executive Director, Anelle Miller, connected me with all these other great artists like Stefano Imbert, Bil Donovan, Abby Merrill, and Elana Amity (who is now our Event Director at Mount Sinai Hospital, where she hosts a monthly live drawing call-in show that beams to all the kids' hospital rooms at once). They draw along with us and call or text in with questions and comments. It's hilarious and adorable. We also connected with the great people of the National Cartoonists Society, and wonderful artists like Ed Steckley, Adrian Sinnott, Howard Beckerman, Tim Savage, Marty Macaluso, Joe Vissichelli and so many more. 

After MTV Animation New York shut down, pretty much all my colleagues and I from great shows like Beavis and Butthead, Daria, The Head, and Celebrity Death Match all moved out west. So I had this great group of talented friends still living there, and based on the Ink Well's popularity in NYC, I thought, let's give it a shot there too! I reached out to my former colleague from Rugrats and Wild Thornberrys, Joseph Scott, and asked if he'd be interested in running things there. He is now heading up all our operations in L.A. and he is just the most phenomenally kind and talented person on earth. With his art skills he could do whatever he wanted but he devotes a huge amount of time to the kids we work with and I'm so moved by his giving spirit and boundless good energy. And Michael Daedalus Kenny is also stepping up in a leadership role as our newest Event Director, we've got amazing artists like Marla Frazee of Boss Baby genius, Monica Tomova from SpongeBob, Jeanette Moreno, king of The Simpsons, Chris Harmon from Futurama, Ashley Simpson from Phineas and Ferb, Christian Lignan of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, graphic novelist, Jeremy Arambulo and so many others so we're in great hands there. I just wish the traffic weren't such a problem! It really is tough to get around that city, unlike NYC where there's a decently functioning subway that goes to all our locations, so getting around is no real trouble comparatively.

Tools of choice:  Our events are usually very handmade by design so that the kids can feel like they could do all of this easily by themselves. So we come up with themes like, “Who is your Superhero?,” and we ask the kids to focus on their strengths and what superpowers they wish they would have, and we draw their portraits as such. We are not art therapists, but we feel these event themes help to make the kids focus on positivity and their potential, and therefore help them to bond and heal. 

We do sometimes get more elaborate, like when we teach stop motion, claymation, and we once even taught them how to build homemade rockets on the roof of Bellevue Hospital! One of our Event Directors at the time, Nathan Schreiber, used to come up with the most fantastic science-focused events. He now runs a company called Science Ninjas, that helps kids learn about science with fun card games. But usually it's simple by design.

We are extremely fortunate to have Blick Arts as a sponsor. Their support enables us to provide each child with their own art kit after each event so that they can keep creating on their own after they learn new skills with us so thanks to them we have a lot of the arts tools we need.

Tool I wish existed: I think we do great working with anything we've got lying around- we emphasize the potential of just about anything to become art: we often create characters out of inanimate objects, make flip books, sculptures and puppets— using everything from card stock to socks to toothpicks and gum drops. We keep it accessible and inventive. 

How can we support The Ink Well Foundation? Because our volunteers are by definition "the artists behind the kids' favorite books, films, comics, and TV shows," we don't solicit volunteers from the general public. We do have an online application on our site, so other professionals that meet our criteria in the illustration, animation, and cartooning industries are welcome to apply there. 

What the general public can do is to help us spread the word so that more children can see that others are going through what they're going through, and also so that they see examples of adults believing in them and encouraging them. We try to promote the idea of art as self-expression and a way to get through trying times, ideally together. Connectivity and encouragement are critical to healing, and honestly, to just building a better world. So we talk about that a lot on our social media and at the events themselves. We also honor the kids' intelligence by talking about art in general there— we highlight classic and new artists and ideas and encourage them to learn from those masters as they develop their own skills.

Because we are a very small 100% volunteer-run organization, we focus on giving the kids the greatest events possible, and sometimes that means we don't have a lot of time for social media, self-promotion, and fund-raising. So spreading the word is huge and we are always extremely grateful for, and in need of, any financial donations. 

Where are Ink Well Foundation events held? We operate in New York City and Los Angeles because that's where the top artists in our fields are concentrated. We go to hospitals and at-risk support centers like Ronald McDonald House, Gilda's Club, Bellevue, St. Mary's, Mount Sinai, Childhelp, Covenant House and more. You can see the full list here. 

How can children who don't live near Ink Well Foundation events benefit from your Pen Pals Program? This is another reason we want people to spread the word. Loved ones of a child experiencing serious illness or hardship, who is physically or geographically unable to attend our events, can apply to have a special artwork sent straight to them. We ask the kids what their favorite animated films, TV shows, or illustrated books are, and then we have an artist who actually worked on that production make something tailored to that child. We then frame it up, and send it off to them by mail. 

We've done this with artists from SpongeBob, Captain Underpants, and just a week ago, we delivered a beautiful drawing of Curious George that our Event Directors, Franz Palomares and Lisa LaBracio (both of whom worked on Curious George) lovingly made. This was for a girl named, Maryanne who lives in Florida. She suffers from a rare disease called, vein of galen malformation that has led to brain damage and vision loss. She is unable to talk or walk or eat through her mouth and she suffers seizures but she understands everything around her, and she can feel texture. So Franz and Lisa made her Curious George playing in a sand box, and they glued real sand into the picture, so that Maryanne could feel that, and enjoy the art on multiple levels. Maryanne's mother, Sandra, said that she was thrilled, and that she loves to hold it. 

Our hearts are full being able to share these works with kids who need that moment of light, and that knowledge that an adult they admire, someone who doesn't even know them well, can care enough about them to take the time to create careful, tailor-made artworks just for them. We hope that helps to bring a smile in the moment, and build self-worth long term.

Misc. I'd like to mention that everything we do is 100% free of charge. No one gets paid, no money ever changes hands for the art. We have brilliant artists like Peter de Séve who is on our board and attends many events, while also creating characters for Ice Age, The Little Prince, and all his New Yorker covers. He could get a mint for his works, but he comes down and does this for free, and that's a testament to the power of that loving connection we all feel when we are just selflessly helping one another.

I feel this most acutely when I'm working with youth who have suffered abuse and neglect. We have an Event Director, Jane Archer, who leads our work at Bellevue Hospital. Many of those kids are there because they have been through unendurable trauma, and Jane connects with them beautifully. She begins with a meditation where we all envision our strengths together, we talk about our talents, and hopes for a brighter day, we imagine embodying those gifts and then we gently, patiently, ask the kids to help us draw characters step by step. Many kids start out very suspicious and resistant, even angry. But by the end of the events they are almost always laughing and teasing us, and they don't want to stop creating. It is my greatest joy to experience that transition and I hope we may continue to spread this support and faith in one another for many years to come.

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