#ive been working on this near constantly for the past three(?) days

[barbatos-sama]

chat i was COOKINGGGGGGGG

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Requested: yes.

Synopsis: your and Harry’s daughter has been sick with some sort of fever and stomach bug for the last few weeks— a month after Harry went away on tour meaning your daughter was clingy for her dad, her separation anxiety getting worse. Harry hears of the news from you and he despite reassuring you that he’ll continue touring can’t just let his baby girl be sick and needing him… read on to find out what he does.

Dad! Harry x yn x daughter reader

Warnings: mention of being sick, puke, being poorly but mainly fluff of both daughter and reader. Enjoy!!

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

Your daughter Layla was sick with a nasty bug. She had been for the past three weeks and she was constantly crying for her dad. It was heartbreaking for you because you hated seeing your baby girl crying. You were resting on the sofa arm wrapped around your daughter as she was curled up in your side, a bucket by your feet filled with puke and loads of used tissues sprawled out all over the place from the amount of tissues she had used. Layla was only 7 so being sick wasn’t nice for her— she had been puking for days now and you were concerned, getting advice from doctors who advised you to keep her home and let the medication work through her body. Which you did. But of course it wasn’t going to instantly make her better. You just had to be strong for her. You sigh softly running a hand through your hair which was messy from how stressed you had been. “Mummy” the little girl soon cried out, hiccuping and you quickly grabbed the bucket holding it underneath her chin just in time for her to puke into it her eyes remaining shut clearly still half asleep.. “you’re okay baby. Mummy’s here… mummy’s here..” you guided rubbing her back gently, soothing her through it as you pushed down the twisting in your stomach. It had occurred to you last night that you had most definitely too caught the bug but you didn’t care. You needed to take care of Layla.

You sighed quietly pushing her hair back as you hushed her gently, her soon leaning down again cuddling into you as she relaxed. You played with her hair lightly until eventually she had fallen asleep Toy Story on in the background before your phone buzzed. You without looking answered it lifting it to your ear “hi.” You murmured clearing your throat. “Hello my love.. how is she?” Harry’s voice rang through the phone and you sighed, you missed him deeply, you missed his touch— his smell. “Not great.” You admitted softly gazing down at the little girl. “She’s thrown up 24/7. She’s got a fever and I’m just concerned about her.” You murmured quietly to make sure not to wake her. “Want me to come home?” He questioned and you quickly shook your head before realising he couldn’t see you, you were sleep deprived to say the least. “No. Don’t let your fans down.. Ive got this under control.” You assured him yet his silence proved he was doubting you, worried about you and tempted to come home. “Harry keep doing what you love. Okay? I love you. I’ll face time you later on tonight as Layla wants to see your face okay?” Harry remained silent for a few moments silently contemplating whether to come home or not before he sighed softly “okay my love… I look forward to that. Sending my love. I love you.” “I love you too.” You spoke with a small smile before hanging up as you relaxed back into the sofa gazing at the tv as you began falling in and out of consciousness yet you never could properly fall asleep needing to make sure Layla was okay no matter what.

-

You weren’t sure how long had passed maybe a couple hours as it was now nearing morning time again, but you were holding your daughters hair back as she threw up in the toilet “it’s okay… good job… I’m here.” You comforted. Your stomach churned once again and you had to hold back your own sick, taking a deep breath as you attempted to breathe through it a strange pain in your stomach. As Layla finally stopped you helped her get up wiping her mouth and flushing the toilet before helping her walk back towards her bedroom all until a rather loud creak grabbed your attention making you tense up– you looked towards the source of what had created the sound before your eyes locked on those familiar green eyes. “Harry….” You whispered tears threatening to form in your eyes, Layla letting out a squeal Harry grinning from ear to ear as he slowly crouched down, bag slipping off his shoulder and falling onto the floor staying crouched to Layla’s height before he opened his arms for her his smile wide and bright as he tilted his head to the side “oh baby girl are you feeling a little bit poorly?” He questioned, you let go of Layla’s hand the small girl sprinting towards her daddy before she jumped into Harry’s arms almost knocking him over, but he stayed upright wrapping his arms tightly around her as he lifted her up spinning her around once. You watched with loving eyes your vision going slightly dizzy “harry— I just need to rest for a bit.. okay.” You spoke softly, you felt awful and although you wanted to hug him you didn’t think your legs would manage to keep you upright and you didn’t want to scare your daughter. Harry nodded watching as you entered your bedroom, his attention falling back to Layla as he set her back down on the floor hands lightly resting on her waist as he looked into her eyes before he raised a hand to her forehead “oh dear you are rather warm.” He murmured with a frown before he stood up straighter grabbing onto her hand as he walked with her back down stairs having her sit down on the sofa before he began searching through the medicine box.

He soon found Calpol and a thermometer before he walked back over to Layla “can I sleep daddy?” She murmured sadly Harry looking into her eyes seeing the exhaustion and sadness before he nodded “of course baby. After this okay?” She nodded and Harry smiled. “Arm up sweetheart.” He spoke pressing the small round button hearing the beep before he slid the thermometer underneath Layla’s armpit allowing it to take her temperature as he measured out some medicine for her to take, carefully spooning it into her mouth “good girl.” He praised with a small smile just in time for the thermometer to beep and he pulled it away from her checking it… too hot for normal. He exhaled calmly “it’s not good baby. But hopefully the medicine will get rid of your pains okay? Let’s go back upstairs yeah?” He spoke and she whined attaching herself to his neck, and Harry smiled softly before he lifted her up into his embrace as he carried her towards the stairs, carrying her up them her legs wrapped around his waist. “I missed you daddy.” She murmured to him quietly making his heart clench. “I missed you too darling. But I promise to be here for you until you feel better.”

Unbeknownst to you Harry had postponed his entire tour extending the days to another day just so he could see Layla and you. He carried the small girl into her room before laying her down and tucking her in, the Calpol already working as she fell into a deep sleep drowsily murmuring that she loved him. He covered her up in her blankets securing her favourite teddy under her arm before he kissed her cheek, turning on her night light before silently exiting the room pulling the door to so it was closed but not fully shut. He then wandered into your and his shared room finding you fast asleep, curled up, hands pressed firmly against your belly. He frowned in slight concern and walked towards you, sitting down. As the bed dipped and you felt a hand touch against your back you whined softly. “Darling you’re boiling.” The familiar voice spoke feeling your forehead and Harry exhaled “let me get you some medicine” “no.” You grabbed onto his wrist “already done…” you murmured tiredly and he nodded noticing a sick bucket off to the side on the floor. You must’ve caught the bug. He gently wrapped his arms around you pulling you close, as his slender fingers stroked against your stomach soothing it as best as he could, listening to your breathing as it began to calm down until you had fallen asleep. He remained awake keeping an eye on you for about fifty minutes.

“Daddy” he heard a whimpered voice, a small hand resting against his back and he slowly sat up, seeing Layla teddy in arms as she was close to sobbing. “I don’t feel good daddy.” He carefully leaned forwards helping her up onto the bed before he laid down with her, having her between you and him “I don’t feel good” she whimpered and Harry stroked her hair soothingly “I know baby… I know…” he began humming a soft tune to her, her hands soon grasping onto his larger one as she began playing with his fingers until eventually she was half asleep, tracing his tattoos lightly before she had fallen into another deep sleep. He too began relaxing before he fell into a sleep like state… but what felt like seconds later which was actually twenty minutes he felt the bed move abruptly eyes snapping open enough to see you rushing towards the bathroom hand covering your mouth. He silently but quickly stood up, hair slightly messy from where Layla had woken up unbeknown to him and played with his hair slightly. He rushed after you and when he found you he quickly pulled your hair back securing it back with a hairband he found on the counter as his free hand then slid down to rub against your back as you threw up until eventually you had fallen back into Harry, forehead sweaty and hot as he held you as you panted grimacing in pain “I don’t want to get you sick…” you murmured tiredly but Harry didn’t respond only holding you closer, he didn’t care if he got sick. He had to be there for you and Layla even if it risked getting the sickness… he honestly didn’t care. You and Layla were the most important things in his life. Nothing else. He had to look after you no matter what. And he always would.

[dmc-tings]

How would the 4 lords reaction to finding mono from little nightmare 2 and how would they react to his powers

I love the Little Nightmares Games, and I do hope we get another installment of them. And this was a really fun ask! Enjoy!

Lady Dimitrescu

The Lady had no interest in te little man-thing

And desired it to be dealt with, but the ever loyal woman obeyed Mother Miranda's orders

And kept it around

"Quiet little thing aren't you?" She spoke to it distasteful one day

Mono only gazed at the large woman

Alcina took this as a "yes" and started to leave

The little man-thing could do what it wanted, as long it left her daughters alone

Days past and Mono had free roam of the castle

The girls, found him rummaging through the kitchen for scraps

Curious they plucked up the little man-thing and started to torture him

Well tried, they found themselves warped and stuck in the walls

Hearing their screeches of anger Alcina rushed down

To see Mono crushing her daughters

She paused to take in the scene

Watching in horror, as the walls twisted and her daughters cried out in pain

"STOP THIS, NOW!"

At Alcina's demand, Mono stopped, releasing the girls

She gathered them behind her, glaring at him

Mono only hung his head, he felt bad...

This woman was kind enough to let him stay here

Alcina saw this and turned to the girls,

"He is not to be harmed. Now go. Play elsewhere."

The girls obliged, after giving Mono curious stares

After this incident, Alcina kept a closer eye on the little man-thing

He was definitely special

Angie and Donna Beneviento

Angie found Mono, he was wandering around in the garden

And normally anything unlucky to wander in there would be subject to hallucinations

Not Mono, he had been at the the of the greenhouse, swirling the glass, in a call for help

He was lost and didn't know how he ended up in this world

Now, they stood infront of Donna, Angie holding the boy up like a puppy

"Can we keep him!?"

Donna peered close to Mono, eyeing him curiously

"Ok..." she muttered, leaning back and turning to another one of her dolls

Angie spent the most time with Mono, seeing as they were the same height

Donna would hold him close to her, she was worried the dolls would lose control and attack him

Mono revealed his powers to the pair when Angie complained about having to walk, despite Donna carrying her

She was laying face down in the floor moaning, "I. HATE. WALKING."

He looked at Donna, who was sighing and standing still, looking down at the doll

With a flick of his hand, the door to the outside moved closer to the three

Angie hopped up, excited, "WOW!! YOU CAN DO THAT!? CAN YOU-"

Donna cut her off, "Angie. Enough." She knelt down next to Mono, "This is an amazing gift. But do try not to use it in front of the others. I dont want them to take you. For now, the other Lords and Mother Miranda think you are a normal child."

Mono nodded, taking Donna and Angie's hands, a a silent agreement

Salvatore Moreau

The Fish Man looked at the small human in awe and confusion

The little one was... CONTORTING REALITY

Moving the near by boulders and rocks close to him, then pushing them away

With practiced ease

Making himself known, Moreau slowly walked out and walked over to Mono

"How... how are you doing this?"

Mono didn't answer, but backed away from Moreau

"Do not be afraid. I wont harm you... I do not wish to." The man sat down, showing he ment no harm to Mono

Slowly, the boy relaxed, and sat, still keeping the distance between them

The pair sat in silence for a few moments before Mono brought the cave where he was staying closer

Then stood up and waved Moreau to follow him

The Fish Man obliged, following

Mono showed Moreau his home, the things he's found and the one Vârcolac that he had befriended

Which happened to also be one of Moreau's favorites

"Ah, I see that Stephen has made friends with you."

Mono nodded, then offered his hand to the man

To which Moreau happily took, letting the boy lead him further into the cave, Stephen following

Moreau gasped, as Mono brought the entrance of the Stronghold close to them

"Send this back little one. The beasts in there aren't as kind as Stephen."

Mono gave Moreau a horrified look then quickly thrust the entrance away

The two became alot more friendly, with the trend being Moreau telling Mono about all of the safe places

And to keep away from the Dangerous places of the area

Stephen helped, by being a mount for Mono as they walked, enjoying one another's company

Karl Heisenberg

The Metal Man's eyes gleamed with greedy excitement

He could use this kid to get a one up on the Miranda bitch!

He rubbed his hands together, deviously

Mono had been running around the Factory, able to keep away from the monsters

But the moment Heisenberg saw the boy running around, a "rescue" had been in the works

He sent the Soldats on a rampage, constantly chasing the boy

Soon Mono tired, and started to faint, to which Heisenberg showed himself, dismantling the Soldats

He bent down, looking at the poor kid

He felt bad

"Ah shit..." Karl picked up the boy, who was half unconscious

The next few days he spent trying to get Mono better

Once Mono was able to stay awake, Karl explained himself

"Im sorry kid.. I saw your power, and... well I was gonna use you to kill this bitch and... now, ive changed my mind..."

Mono didn't say anything, but he knew the man was being honest

Mono patted Heisenberg's hand, but that was all, a silent "Its ok"

Heisenberg nodded, "Well I don't know where the hell you came from... but you can stay here. It's the safest part of the Factory."

From there, the pair kept one another company

Mono a silent but comfortable being and Karl keeping him from Miranda's gaze.

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.5 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N invites Josh over to work on a project while Peter goes back to his Spiderman duties which sends Y/N into a spiral.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author’s Note: WOWIE I really stayed up all night to finish this ha. Anyway! This gives more backstory about Y/N and what happened with her biological parents and ughhhh things are moving yall! Also leave comments if it’s good and if it’s bad also leave comments 🥰

Warnings: Mention of blood, death, panic attack, ANGST 

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || 

part seven || part eight || epilogue 

Even though the Avengers Complex was your home, it was much more than a place where you crashed after school. You had to keep in mind that to any normal person, the idea of seeing alien technology in use or friends from galaxies away wasn’t an average Thursday. 

You never thought any of this was particularly strange until now as you got the text from Josh that he was parked in the back lot of the building like you had told him to. 

Since you and Josh were partners for anatomy, you thought it would be obvious that you would be staying at his house to work on your project but your dad had other ideas. 

The sheer thought of you going to a boy’s house to “study” was absurd, especially since Josh’s parents were always out of town for business. You never thought your dad would ever let any of your friends into the complex, especially a boy but in the name of science, it wasn’t too hard to convince him. 

You quietly opened the side door as Josh slid in behind you and let out a low whistle. 

“ Not too shabby Stark, although I gotta say, the lawn is looking a bit wild,” Josh smiled as he readjusted his backpack straps,” if you need me to come over to cut it, I charge $9.00 an hour.”

“ In that case, your first shift starts next week,” You teased as you led him to the main set of elevators in the building. 

You couldn’t help but feel on edge as Josh followed close behind you. You had never brought anyone over and you were scared that bringing Josh would make things turn into a big deal. You knew how protective some of the other Avengers were of you and you just prayed silently that you wouldn’t run into any of them, especially Peter. 

You weren’t sure how Peter would take it if he found out you and Josh were getting closer. 

Peter was in a fragile state and who knew what little thing could set him off. You were even more worried that Peter would find out about the party tomorrow night because it wasn’t like you could invite him along. 

The idea of mixing hormonal teenagers and alcohol was a recipe for disaster but the damage that could be made from Peter’s self-destructive state could be even bigger. 

As much as you knew how badly things could turn out with Josh in the complex, you knew you couldn’t let Peter’s actions affect what went on in your academic life and at the end of the day, Josh was just a classmate. 

Josh looked all around him, taking in everything from the colorful array of gadgets neatly built into the walls to the natural light coming from the sleek windows. 

“ I feel so out of place- am I underdressed?” Josh asked as a few lab technicians walked past giving you and Josh an odd glance,” and how do you not get lost in a place this big.” 

You pressed the elevator button and gave Josh a reassuring smile,” Trust me, they’ve seen weirder things around here. Like, way weirder things.”

When the elevator doors opened, the two of you walked in and you started pointing to the elevator buttons,” So a quick tour! We’re on the main floor which basically is used for important meetings and conferences, the second floor is for the gym and pool, the third is where some of the bedrooms are, fourth is strictly for the scientists, the fifth is the labs, and the other floors are for S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Also, the basement has all the cool gadgets I’m not allowed to play with but I’m convinced it’s just where the guys all hang out and drink.” 

“ You have an indoor pool?” 

“ That’s what caught your attention?” You laughed as Josh nodded enthusiastically.

“ Well yeah! Do you even use it? I vaguely remember that when you were twelve, you almost drowned in 4ft water at someone’s pool party,” Josh said as you pressed the third button. 

“ It was 5ft but yes I know how to swim...my dad made me take lessons after that,” You mumbled as you remembered that experience vividly,” I tried lifeguarding last summer at that super fancy hotel near Greenwich but the training was too expensive so I just took a CPR course at the YMCA and lifeguarded there.” 

“ Did you ever have to save anyone?” Josh asked curiously as the glass elevators moved up towards your floor. 

You nodded as Josh’s mouth dropped,” Yup, I had to give CPR and everything. Lucky for them, saving lives runs in my family.” 

As the elevator doors opened up to your floor, you made sure to carefully scan the hallway before stepping out. Peter was supposed to be up in the labs all-day so that gave you enough time to work on the project with Josh while keeping Peter at a safe distance. 

As you were approaching the door to your room, the fridge door in the kitchen closed and revealed Peter with an IV pole on his left side and an apple in the other hand. 

“ Peter!” You said nervously as you took a small step in front of Josh, almost as if you were covering him up from Peter’s line of vision,” What are you doing here? I thought you were up in the labs?” 

Peter looked past you and eyed Josh up and down before holding up the fruit, walking towards the two of you,” Um, I needed something to eat- Who is he?” 

Peter was constantly feeling some type of distress whether it was chest pains or headaches but now that he clearly caught you hiding a boy from him, the pain felt off. 

You had never brought over any of your friends to the headquarters before so to Peter, this was already a red flag. Peter felt like his body was on high alert as thousands of scenarios were going through his head. 

Josh stepped forward and held his hand out for Peter to shake,” Nice to meet you, Peter, I’m Josh. Y/N and I go to Manhattan Prep together.”

Peter looked down at Josh’s hand for a moment before shaking it hard. Josh winced but played off his pain as he pulled his hand away and stuffed it back into his pockets. You could feel the one-sided tension between the two as you looked over to Peter to try to ease him but his eyes were glued to Josh. 

You cleared your throat as you turned to face Josh,“ Peter is a part of my dad’s internship program so he spends most of his time here at the complex. He’s pretty much a part of the family and he’s a really good friend, right Peter? ” 

Peter nodded as he tried to calm his nerves down, his quick glance to Josh was almost as if he was begging his body to put his guard down.  He couldn’t control his body and this was the first time the lovedust had forced him into a territorial state. 

“ No kidding, that’s awesome man. My buddy from Midtown was telling me that he knew a guy who was accepted into the Stark Internship,” Josh said as Peter stood up a little straighter. 

“ Oh really? Who?”

“ Flash Thompson, do you know him?” Josh asked as Peter looked over at you, almost as a warning. 

While Josh was trying to be civil towards Peter, Peter couldn’t help but feel the pit in his stomach sink lower and lower with the thought of Josh even associating with someone like Flash. 

“ As a matter of fact, I do know Flash,” Peter said smoothly, his speech hardly hesitating,” you sure know how to pick friends.” 

You and Josh could tell that Peter was giving a dig towards him but Josh quickly let it go as he tried to ease the situation. 

“ Well... it was nice to meet you Peter, any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine,” Josh said as he gave a genuine smile,” I’m sure Y/N already mentioned this to you but if you’re not busy or anything, my friend is throwing a party tomorrow and you should come out.”

Fuck. 

Peter looked at you for a moment before returning a small smile to Josh,” Thanks, I’ll think about it.” 

“ Um Josh, can you just wait in my room for a second?” You asked as Josh looked between the two of you and nodded. 

You didn’t want to be upset at Peter for feeling hostile towards Josh because you knew he really couldn’t help himself. It was eating away at you that you were the reason Peter was acting so jealous but come on, did he really have a reason to?

Once Josh closed the door behind him, you turned back to Peter and looked down at the IV that was in his arm. 

“ Is everything okay?” You asked as Peter looked down at his arm,” that looks pretty serious.”

“ Yeah… I’ve been having some problems but nothing your dad can’t fix” Peter deflected softly before looking over to your bedroom door,” so Josh...is he a friend?”

Peter knew he was walking on thin ice asking about Josh but he couldn’t bring himself to just go back in the labs and worry about the two of you all day. 

“ He’s just a friend Peter, we have a school project and we’re partners,” You reassured him as Peter felt almost relieved,” and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the party, I didn’t think you would want to go but I should’ve asked.”

Peter studied your expression for a moment before looking down at his feet. It was hard to tell if you were telling the truth, maybe you didn’t want him to come. School project or not, Peter felt threatened by Josh, even if Josh was trying his best to be as nice as possible. 

“ It’s okay, you’re right. Parties aren’t my thing anyway,” Peter shrugged as you bit the inside of your cheek.

You weren’t sure why you felt so guilty but whatever you were feeling, you hated how much it was stirring inside of you. You never wanted Peter to feel left out and you could easily tell that it was bothering him as much as it was bothering you. 

“ Maybe if you’re not busy tonight, we can watch a movie together. I checked the kitchen this morning and there’s a ton of frozen pizzas if you’re up for it?” You suggested as Peter tapped his fingers against the side of his leg. 

Peter wanted to jump at the offer, any excuse to hang out with you alone literally set Peter so close to having a cardiac arrest in the best way possible. While he was getting the hang of controlling his words around you, it felt like the more time you spent with him, the more he felt himself fall for you. 

“ I’m actually going to patrol tonight,” Peter said in a low whisper as he looked back at your bedroom door,” I haven’t been on the streets in a long time and I think I feel well enough to go.” 

“ Are you sure you’re ready? You’re literally hooked up to an IV bag Peter,” You said as Peter subtly pushed the IV pole behind him as if he could hide it. 

“ I won’t do anything crazy, I’ll be okay. I’ll only be out for a couple of hours and we can hang out when I get back,” Peter said as you hesitantly nodded. 

You understood that being a superhero meant that you couldn’t take sick days but this was an extreme circumstance. To you, Spiderman could wait but for Peter, that was a large part of his livelihood that he had put aside for too long. 

You wanted to tell him not to go, better yet, if you could hide every single one of his Spiderman suits you would. It didn’t sit right with you that with everything going on with his health that he would jeopardize it but you knew it wasn’t your call. 

“ Okay, but please text me updates so I know you’re safe. Things have been so crazy lately and I-”

“ Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll be okay,” Peter interrupted as he felt his heart grow heavy,” I promise I’ll keep you updated.”

You didn’t know why the thought of Peter going out was so scary but before you could think things over in your head, your feet stepped forward and you pulled Peter into a tight hug. You rested your chin against his shoulder as you inhaled deeply as if hugging Peter would calm down your nerves for the rest of your life. 

Without a second thought, Peter drew his arms over your body and held you close to his chest. His heart beat even faster than usual as he closed his eyes, holding you even tighter than before. 

                                                         ----------

You checked your phone for what seemed like the millionth time in the last hour as you grew more and more anxious. 

Peter had been gone for hours to go patrol while you and Josh were still working on the project. It was eating away at you that Peter wasn’t back yet and every time another minute passed without an update, you felt like you were closer to losing your mind. 

Even before Peter made contact with the lovedust, you would still secretly pray that he got home in one piece. When everyone you knew and loved had a career that put themselves in the line of danger, thoughts of not having them around anymore plagued you whenever you had a quiet moment to yourself. 

You had lost people before to freak accidents like your biological parents who had passed away when you were old enough to know how death worked. You couldn’t imagine not having Tony as your dad but some nights whenever you were filled to the brim with anxiety,  you wondered what your life would’ve been like if your parents weren’t killed during that home invasion. 

When you’ve lost people, it never gets easier, terror plagues you. The fear of someone you know getting hurt was by far scarier than anything Hollywood could recreate with CGI and yet, it was slowly looming over you. 

Superheros were literally your life and you weren’t mentally prepared that one day, something bad could happen and you could lose them forever. With Peter, you weren’t sure if it was because of how close the two of you were now but the fear of losing him was bigger than any other scenario you had crafted in your head. 

“ Is everything okay? You seem a little out of it,” Josh said as you looked away from your phone and back towards your laptop. 

“ Yeah, I’m good, my body just feels so tired. I’ve read so much medical terminology within the past couple of hours and now everything is jumbling together,” You sighed as you looked down at Josh who was sprawled out onto your bedroom floor with a textbook resting against his stomach. 

You never realized how comfortable your floor was but seeing Josh on your floor looking as effortless as ever was a shock to your system. When Josh caught your gaze, you turned back to your laptop and rested your cheek against your palm to try to cover the blush that was creeping onto your cheeks. 

As you rested your cheek against your propped up hand, you could feel your eyelids get heavier with each passing second. Josh noticed from his spot on the ground and sat upon his hands, watching you ever so intently. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed once you closed your eyes but once you felt a blanket drape across your shoulders, you stirred quietly. 

You held your breath as you waited for anything else but all you could hear was paper shuffling around. You peeked your eye out and saw Josh crouched down on your floor, carefully putting his textbooks and notes into his backpack, being careful not to wake you. 

Instead of waking up to say goodbye, you pretend to be asleep as if you were too nervous to even confront Josh this late. The papers stopped shuffling and as you tried to keep your breathing patterns even, you felt Josh’s hand rub your shoulder softly before walking out of the room. 

Once your bedroom door had closed, you hesitantly opened your eyes and gave a quick peek to make sure Josh was really gone. 

You exhaled loudly, not even aware that you were holding it in all this time. You let the blanket fall onto the chair before walking over to your large window that pointed towards where Josh had parked. 

You knew you should’ve walked him down after everything he had done for your project but the least you could do now was to make sure he left the complex in one piece. After a few minutes of patiently looking out the window, you saw Josh’s car pull out of the long driveway and headed down towards the front gate. 

Your mind instantly traveled back to Peter as you checked your phone again but this time you went back to your messages and looked at all of the unread messages you had left for him. 

5:12pm || Y/N: update me when you get to your post! 

5:29pm || Y/N: oh don’t swing and text loser!!!!

6:01pm || Y/N: you there yet? 

6:36pm || Y/N: don’t make me spam text u nerd

6:57pm || Y/N: im gonna just pretend you’re too busy to txt me back-be safe!

7:40pm || Y/N: helloooo?!?! Is everything okay

8:00pm || Y/N: i will leak your identity fool txt me back 

8:40pm || Y/N: whatever idc anymore

8:44pm || Y/N: still haven’t heard back from you, you dead? 

9:06pm || Y/N: ur freaking me out dude, any updates? 

9:33pm || Y/N: there was a fire near the museum are you okay?!?! The news said you were there 

9:35pm || Y/N: peter????

9:50pm || Y/N: call me im worried

10:02pm || Y/N: ur scaring me pls respond 

You cursed under your breath as you pressed the call button and placed it to your ear. After a few rings, Peter’s voicemail came on and you didn’t even bother to listen to it all the way. You had already left so many voicemails and at this point, there was nothing you could do but wait for him. 

You were filled with dread as you scooted back into your bed and refreshed the news pages on your phone. 

Spiderman Stops an Armed Gunman Outside Plaza

You knew that it wasn’t healthy for you to keep scrolling online but you needed to know if Peter was safe. You hated the feeling of not being kept into the loop and Peter wasn’t the type to completely ignore text messages unless that meant he was in real trouble, what could you do to help him, you don’t have any powers you’re just a teenager-

You took a deep breath in as you shut your phone off and stared up at the ceiling to clear your head. 

Peter is smart. He’s fast. He will be fine. You kept repeating it over and over again like a lullaby and with some luck, you could feel your eyelids get heavier and heavier by the second with Peter being the last thing you thought before falling into a deep sleep. 

You held your hand over your mouth to try and stop the sobs that rocked your body from underneath the bed. You could hear your dad begging, pleading to spare his wife before the sound of a gunshot went off. 

It was louder than you remembered almost as if the sky let out a roaring thunder that shook the whole house. You could hear your dad struggling with the gunman before another shot rang out, this time even louder. 

The glowing stars that were stuck to your ceiling shook off once your bedroom door had slammed opened and you prayed silently, wanting the nightmare to end. 

You did your best to be quiet as you watched his feet walk slowly to the bed, almost at a teasing pace like he knew you were underneath there. Everytime the nightmare played in your head, the attacker took on a different appearance. Sometimes it was someone you knew, other times it was just a passing face on the street. 

But everytime you had this nightmare, one thing never changed. The shoes, black sneakers with white laces and depending on how terrible the nightmare decided to be, you could spot the splatter of blood against the heels. 

You watched as the man walked behind your bed and you let out a scream as you felt his hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you roughly against the carpet. As you scratched at the attackers face, your sob got caught in the middle of your throat. 

The attacker always took a different appearance and this time, it was Peter. 

You kicked and screamed as hard as you could as he tried to pin you down, his weapon pressed into the side of your rib as you sobbed uncontrollably. You knew it was a dream and you were so used to letting it ride out or until you fell out of bed but with Peter staring at you as he dangled your life between his fingers, all you wanted to do was wake up. 

All you could do was continue to fight back through your tears as he kept saying your name, taunting you. 

“ Let go of me!”

“ Y/N! I got you!” 

“ It’s me Peter!” 

“Y/N!” 

You shot up from out of your bed, almost knocking heads with another figure as you let out a choked sob. You didn’t realize your fists were still swinging until you felt a pair of arms wrap around your body, cradling you. 

The memory of the attacker was still so vivid in your head and all you wanted to do was get away,“ Let me go!” You screamed as you struggled against their grip as they held you even tighter,” get off of me!” 

“ Y/N! Y/N! It’s me! It’s me! You’re okay!” Peter shouted as he let his grip go before cupping his hands on either side of your face,” open your eyes! Hey! It’s me, you’re okay!” 

You squirmed from his lap as you opened your eyes to see Peter in front of you, the actual Peter. As relieved as you were, you felt your chest tighten as you continued to cry and without a second thought, you leaned into Peter’s chest and buried your wet face into his t-shirt. 

Peter held you tighter as he rested one hand against the back of your head and the other was snaked around your waist. He smoothed down your hair as he made soft shushing noises to try and calm you down,” It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, I got you.” 

You hadn’t felt so relieved to see anyone until now and as you tried to control your cries, you felt yourself slowly transitioning back into reality. You inhaled his scent as you dug your face into his neck and you never thought a smell could bring you so much peace. 

Relief wasn’t even what you were feeling, it was more than that. You couldn’t put it into words and it was heavier than the idea of weight being lifted off of your shoulders. Release. To sob into someone’s embrace where you knew you would be safe no matter what felt heavenly and with every sob you let out, you felt yourself separate from the nightmare altogether. 

Peter had to hold back his own tears as he held you and slowly rocked your body back and forth like a baby. He wasn’t sure if it was comforting you but it definitely put Peter at ease. 

Just minutes ago, he had just checked on you to see if you were still awake and once he saw that you were sleeping, he went back to his room to get ready for bed. It wasn’t until he was putting on his pajamas when the hair on his arm stood up seconds before you actually let out a scream only he could sense. 

Peter literally scrambled to your room and had his web-shooters ready because from what he could hear, he thought someone was attacking you. It wasn’t until he saw that you were having a nightmare that he quickly threw his web-shooters to the side and tried to wake you up. 

It was one thing to be in love with someone and to go through the motions as if it was a normal occasion but this was different. Seeing you so vulnerable and completely terrified utterly broke Peter in half and he knew for sure that it wasn’t all because of the lovedust. 

“ You’re safe Y/N, you’re okay.” 

“ Don’t worry I got you.” 

“ Just breathe for me, okay?” 

For what seemed like forever, Peter cradled you and whispered into your ear to let you know that you were okay and that he was there for you. He wanted you to tell him everything about the nightmare and what had triggered it but he knew that it wasn’t just an ordinary nightmare with the occasional boogeyman. 

You thought back to your nightmare one last time as you pictured a hazy Peter attacking you and it almost sent you into another panic attack. Peter could feel how tense you got and his grip loosened so he could look back at you. 

Your eyes were puffy from crying so much and your cheeks were flushed red but Peter thought you were absolutely beautiful. You weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him, there was so much to say yet so little at the same time. 

“ Thank you,” You whispered ever so softly as you craned your neck up and pressed a soft kiss against Peter’s cheek. 

You both knew that it wasn’t an ordinary thank you but for Peter, he didn’t need to analyze it any further. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of Peter’s heartbeat that rang throughout his body. 

From pure exhaustion of crying and anxiety, you felt even more tired than before and Peter could feel you slipping back to sleep. He didn’t want to let you go, if he could, he would hold you in his arms forever if it meant keeping you safe and sound. 

Once Peter heard your soft snores, he held you for a second longer before carefully laying you back down into your bed. Like second nature, Peter pulled the covers back over your body and tucked a strand of hair that was danging in the middle of your face behind your ear. 

Peter ignored the sore feeling that was lingering in his back and forearms from holding you up and lightly dragged his fingers across his own cheek. He was way into deep now. 

@eridanuswave​ @juliet-winterson​ @akacalumtrash​ @ilovepeterparker13​

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[fandomsilhouette]

meet me halfway (i hope you’ll stay) part iv

Riposte, parry, advance, slay, watch the fencers fight today. Pull the mask down, keep it tight, one of them will win the fight this very night the darkness shutters, then off the butterfly will flutter onto wristbands and broken hearts, secrets and counterparts that fall apart, don’t start this fight they cannot win, for they don’t know who they have been. 

Happy @felinettenovember​, y’all! This is actually the last of the angst arc, and the last two days of the month will come towards a resolution and cathartic fluff; luckily, the nonlinear timeline means that you’ve read the character development before today’s instigating catalytic event, so we can move directly into the healing. I wrote this entirely on @musicfren​‘s support and baby cousin’s hype (she doesn’t know, but I love talking to her, it gives me so much energy to create), and I hope you feel it in the story. 

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 below. Part 5-6 coming.

Marinette splays out in the playground grass and tucks into his side, and Felix curls up around her near-protectively, except they both know which one is the dreamer, which one is the doer. Felix always argues it doesn’t make sense to assign identities so unilaterally, that both of them dream and both of them do, and Marinette scrunches her nose and says he’s ruining the aesthetic of the ideal, and that they do pick roles in contexts even if they switch later, and she yanks on her ponytail if he agitates her enough. Felix thinks it’s pretty cute and doesn’t let up until she pouts at him in that crinkled nose, scrunched eyebrows kind of way.

She’s making that face now, half annoyed, half wholeheartedly upset, tracking Chat Noir as he races gleefully across the nearby skyline.

“Not a fan of our resident alley cat?” Felix teases, bumping into her shoulder with his head. Her expression sharpens, more pronounced in its disgust, and she shakes her head against the grass until stray leaves are caught up in her hair. Felix laughs and picks them out, one by one. “Why not, then?”

“He’s a bad partner. It shows.” Marinette speaks in clipped tones and impatient, twitchy gestures, like there’s more she has to say and is tamping down the impulse, vicious and unforgiving with her own self.  

“Partnerships take two, though,” he comments idly, “It’s Ladybug’s fault just as much as his.”

Marinette is already scrambling backwards, rolling out of his arms the way she’s never done before. “What? Why would it be? Chat Noir is no hero. Chat Noir is the one who doesn’t keep his word. Chat Noir is the one who doesn’t show up, who doesn’t plan or lead or even follow. He’s a hero under his own agenda and no other, and that’s nothing more than a little boy with eyes too big for his heart and greed bigger than any akuma.” She’s panting as she comes to a stop, shocked to find herself no longer speaking, as if there was more she kept saying that never managed to make it past her vocal chords, a screeching halt directed by long earned muscle memory and desperation.

She’s pushing to her feet, agitated, pacing, so Felix stumbles up to match her. “Ladybug does too much.” He leans back against the tree they’ve been lazing under and crosses his arms to look at her.

“How could a hero possibly do too much.” It’s not a question when she asks and she makes sure he knows it.

“It’s-- Paris is going to collapse one day!”

“Of course it is!”

“So why won’t she just let it?!”

“Why would she?!”

They’re matching each other tone for tone, tomb for tomb, step for angry forward step until they manage to notice where they are, find themselves in each other’s space, crowded in by the anger and frustration.

“...she needs to let Paris crash.” Felix waits, expecting an interruption, but Marinette has settled back down onto her heels and is waiting for him to explain. “She keeps picking up all the slack, carrying a weight that’s not hers,” and at that Marinette huffs a wry agreement, so Felix feels encouraged to keep going. “And as long as she does, no one in the city is ever going to learn to bear their share of responsibility. She’s going to break under the pressure, and as long as the city isn’t prepared, they’re not going to handle it, Marinette, they’re going to break. We need to practice, we need a controlled crash, we-- we’re going to destroy ourselves because some little girl thought she needed to do everything on her own power, like some kind of control freak--”

Marinette snaps. “You would know about that, wouldn’t you! You have no idea the way--” her words dry up in her throat, and Felix crows about this evident proof that she has nothing of substance to say at all, now that she’s finding herself speechless.

“You’re right, I would know about that, because I’ve lived it, you’ve seen me! And I had to learn to fall and get back up on my own, I never stopped until everyone around me stopped cleaning up my messes all the time! And I never learned to trust anyone until I learned to let go, and I felt so. Much. Better. Ladybug should try it,” Felix adds snidely, just because he knows it’ll rile her up.

It does.

“How! How can she try it, when you fell and left a crater with a wreckage diameter the size of your personal bubble of three whole people, and had your mother and your teachers and me. Who do-- does Ladybug have, who’ll hold her hand when she scrambles back up? Hers would level the city and ripple through the country from there and there’s no one around to pick up the pieces.”

“That’s why she has to do it now!” Felix doesn’t realize he’s shouting until he is, and he doesn’t know how to stop. He wants to, he wants to, he wants to; he remembers being the kind of person who shouted and feels the pressure of all the work he’s put in to be better, live up to someone else’s standard of good, and scrabbles for purchase on this improved self.

“That’s why she can’t!” Marinette isn’t yelling. She’s heartbroken, and it’s clear across her face, and Felix cannot find the piece that makes this puzzle make sense. She’s never even been akumatized.

“You have no idea the way Ladybug has destroyed civilians.”

She recoils, struck. Her voice is quiet when she speaks. “Don’t I, though?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

And then: “Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry, please--” Marinette is reaching out for his hand, hurt and humiliated and hating the way she might lose the only support she has left. “Please don’t go.”

But Felix has remembered how much work it is to be the kind of good that someone else decides is valuable, constantly stretching and straining to clear their expectation of good, right, kind. He slips into the same scowling boy he used to be and finds an old chest of tools tucked up against a wall lined with new weapons in his arsenal of cruelty and self-protection. He takes one, and fires.

“You don’t know how to be sorry. Not about this.” He shakes her hand off and stalks away. Felix was so used to holding onto Marinette, gripping her hand or leaning on her shoulder or tucking an arm around her waist, that walking through the places they used to haunt without her feels lost, untethered, like he’s drifting through a graveyard of corpses that have yet to pass away. It feels like he’s come home.

Ladybug spends the night on rooftops, avoiding streetlights and windowsills and her own tempestuous thoughts, trying to flee faster than the burnout can catch up to her and make its home in her body, swinging from one place to another hoping to catch enough height to clear the bar for a city’s expectation to be good, right, kind. The city’s expectations to be a hero, just like she’s always lived up to, always will so long as there’s nothing below her to fall onto. So long as there’s something left to lose.

They don’t look at each other for a week, and avoid each other altogether when cold winter falls and they settle into break. 

[artsythembo]

Make Up Work - Chapter 1

Tw: Bullying, Minor violence

Nathan Rosen is tired of constantly being pushed around. He put his foot down and even got some kids suspended but now they're back! Nathan needs to fend off old enemies and without realizing it may grow closer to one than her ever thought possible.

The keyboard clacked rigorously as Nathan typed on his latest story. He knew the clock was ticking. However, he also knew this was what he loved and math class wasn't. With only five minutes left he found himself knee deep in the atmosphere and barely noticed when his timer went off. Three till, now he had to get to class. Begrudgingly he packed up his laptop and threw his bag over his shoulder. Making his way out of the library he kept his head down. Get to class and make it through the day.

As he made his way through the hallway he felt bumps and heard jeers. Insults flew at him like flies to fly paper but despite them sticking he ignored it the best he could. The last thing he needed right now was a fight and besides he knew he'd lose. It was thankfully a short walk to Miss Gallard's math class so he made it with little damage. He kept his mind on his stories as he sat in the second row, wanting to hear the lesson but not wanting to appear like a total nerd. Looking around he noticed something, or more like the lack of something. Seat five of row four was unoccupied. That's where Ryan usually sat or at least used to. Spying discretely around the room he noted Ryan was still nowhere to be seen. Thank god.

The last thing he needed was to deal with him. Ryan was one of the worst kids in the school, violent and demanding. He was always making Nathan do his homework, or at least he did before he disappeared. One day Nathan walked in dreading another day and no one demanded his lunch money. That was a month ago and it was honestly a pretty sweet month of no bullies! All his usual bullies had been suspended and then a week later Ryan went missing. He sure as hell didn't miss them! Especially Ryan, he was never anything but a jerk. The bell rang and with a whistle Miss Gallard's got the back row to chat quieter as she began class.

"Good morning students," She said less than enthusiastically, "I do hope you all studied as instructed because today is the day," She pulled out a small pile of papers. "midterms."

The students groaned as she passed out a few papers to those without laptops. There were a few boys sitting in the back who Nathan knew all too well, Jared and his gang. Those kids were real pieces of work. Nathan could feel them glaring at the back of his neck as he grabbed out his laptop. Theirs had been confiscated by the school after they were caught cyberbullying other kids, including him. He did his best to ignore them, but he knew they were planning trouble. It was because of him they got suspended. He sighed internally as they flicked papers at the back of his neck. At least Ryan is still gone.

He turned his attention to getting the test page up. Nathan was always good with tests and studied hard so he hoped things would be fine. Miss Gallard walked back to the front of the room and addressed the teens.

"Alright this will be an hour long exam, you will be timed. Quite a lot of your grade relies on this so good luck." Nathan did his best clicking through answers at an alright pace. He vaguely noticed other kids putting away their laptops and even Jared and them taking up their papers. Once finished Nathan submitted. He wasn't the last one done but certainly had taken his time. Closing the tab he opened his word processor and continued work on his story. He lost himself deep in the characters so deep in fact that he didn't notice the bell ring. Of course everyone else was in a hurry to get to lunch and he didn't have any friends in the class so no one bothered to tell him. Until Miss Gallard tapped him on the shoulder.

"Are you going to lunch?" she questioned. It was then that He noticed the time. Crap! He quickly shut his laptop and shoved it into his bag walking quickly out the room. Once he was out of sight of the teacher he began sprinting. He really didn't want to miss lunch. Running he found himself drifting back to his story. The main character Ariana Valentine, he loved her so much, was a bad-ass outlaw on the run in a futuristic society. She was living her hectic life before she met Grey Lawson, an upstanding citizen of the new world who insists she change her ways. Through some pretty cool circumstances this unlikely pair are stuck together on the run from the government trying to break down a conspiracy! Nathan felt a little like he was floating as he ran at a breakneck pace. Maybe that was why he didn't notice the person in his way until he ran into them. The wind was knocked out of him as Nathan bounced back.

"Hey! What the-!" Nathan froze as his eye opened to the sight of a white and red letterman jacket with a patch in the shape of a capital R.

Crap! He knew who was inside this jacket and rather than look up he hoped he could slip past him. He wanted to go to lunch and pretend this never happened. Unfortunately he was never that lucky. As he attempted to silently stare forward and walk around he felt the familiar tug of a fist on his shirt collar.

His eyes shut again as the wind was knocked out of him for the second time. Colliding with the wall hurt but not near as much as he was about to if he didn't choose his next words carefully. Opening his eyes he saw the angry, bruised face of none other than Ryan Hyalls staring him down. He spoke slowly as if calming a rabid animal.

"Hey Ryan, long time no see…" Ryan looked him up and down clearly in a bad mood. Oh boy.

"So I'm gone a couple weeks and you think you can start throwing attitude?" Fuck.

"No, no, no. Of course not I didn't know it was you is, um all!" He knew he was slipping he had to act fast before this turned sour.

"And? Any more excuses?" Jeez he is in a bad mood today. Nathan stays silent unsure what to say. Act fast.

"No, no, I'm sorry." Ryan seemed to calm slightly letting Nathan down. "Look I'm super sorry to have caused any trouble." Nathan spoke somewhat frantically moving slowing in a half circle around Ryan. "So I'll go and stop bothering you! I'm sure you want to get to lunch." Nathan was about to bolt when Ryan grabbed his arm.

"Not without my lunch money I'm not." He held out a hand expectantly and Nathan cursed to himself. Great… He rolled his eyes internally but did as the older teen demanded. He even added a nervous. "O-of course!" The weaker he appeared, the less threatened the bully would be or at least that's what his mother said. Nathan handed the money from his wallet into Ryan's expecting hand. As Ryan counted the money Nathan backed away slowly and turned.

"Oh no you don't!" Ryan reached out before Nathan bolted and grabbed him by the arm. His hand was big enough to completely encase the younger boys arm. Nathan turned panicked hoping he could have gotten away and for the first time since the conversation began Ryan smiled.

It wasn't a kind smile, not even close! It was a wicked kind of smile a car salesman had before ripping off an old lady. Nathan wanted to yell for help but he knew better so when Ryan began dragging him around the school halls he let it happen. "Where are we going?" He asked exasperated but Ryan refused to answer and kept smiling.

It wasn't long before they reach their destination, a janitors closet. Nathan was confused until he saw the door propped open with a book, then he was terrified. Ryan pulled him forward opening the door and shoving him in. Nathan barely kept his balance and turned in time to see the door shut.

He wasn't sure what would happened next and the air was tense. Ryan opened his bag and pulled out a folder throwing it to Nathan who barely caught It. It was green and read HISTORY across the front in bold black lettering. Nathan looked up in confusion.

"What? You know your job. Ive been gone for a month. So that means lots of make up work for me. Or more accurately for you." Ryan smiled a grin that could kill kittens and Nathan fumed. Seriously? He scares the shit out of me to make me do his homework! Nathan would've voiced these complaint but Ryan blocked the door. Knowing this could go much worse Nathan sat down and got started. There was so much and Ryan was a grade above him so Nathan had his work cut out for him. As he worked through it he did his best, even pulling out his phone to look stuff up. He knew these papers had to get a good grade, or else.

After a bit Nathan decided to try his luck. He could see other kids in the hall heading to the lunch room and knew he'd miss it entirely if he didn't try.

"You know I could get this done a lot faster if I had some food?" Nathan bit his lip hoping this would work but unfortunately Ryan turned his face sarcastically to the trapped boy.

"Oh really?" He pretend to think about it before plainly stating, "No." Nathan knew he was already pushing it but he was hungry.

"Come on, please? Something small at least?" He begged. This time Ryan ignored him. Nathan grew desperate and nearly shouted. "Aw come on man! I'm already doing your work you could at least let me eat!" Nathan quickly regretted his tone as the older boy stood up walking towards him. Nathan prepared himself for trouble and quickly back-tracked.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean-" He was cut off as Ryan got right up in his face and pointed to the papers on his lap with a stern look. Nathan swallowed a knot in his throat as Ryan's demeanor dared Nathan to challenge him further. He didn't and thankfully Ryan went back and sat down messing around on his phone.

Nathan sighed internally and turned back to the work. Whatever! I'll get it done and then I wouldn't have to worry about it. He sat and worked on history above his grade level for far longer than he felt he should have been. Still eventually the bell rang and Ryan stood up. Thank god I can finally leave.

Nathan got up as well stuffing all the papers he had managed to get done back in the folder. Ryan opened the door and Nathan followed him out. He tried to hand Ryan the folder but with a dissatisfied look he shoved it back into Nathans possession. Nathan was confused and a bit angry.

"I did the work." He insisted. Ryan stared him down like this was a waste of his time and shoved back the folder.

"Do the rest." Nathan hoped this wouldn't happen but clearly that didn't mean much to the universe that day.

"What?" Nathan blurted but Ryan smirked.

"I want it done by tonight." He shoved Nathan back and walked away as the dumbfounded boy fumed unable to do anything.

[robsroadtorecovery]

Daily(ish) Updates

On Thursday March 28th, Rob went to the ER for stomach pains. He ended up being checked into a hospital in Corona and they did several tests including a bone marrow biopsy. They discovered that he had a low platelet count, high white blood cell count, and an enlarged spleen. He’s needed plasma transfusions to keep his platelet level up. On April 1st he was informed that he has Philadelphia chromosome positive (Ph+) B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) and was transferred to UC Irvine Health.

April 3th

-Rob started chemotherapy. His medications for the first three days will be cyclophosphamide (chemotherapy) and mesna (chemoprotectant to reduce side effects). 

-His parents visited him and said that the medication was administered through IV and can take 3 hours to finish the treatment. 

April 4th

-Rob took dasatinib orally, which is another treament for ALL. 

-His sons, Chris and Trey, visited him. 

-Rob said he felt fine but the doctors said that the side effects of chemo are usually felt after 48 hours.

April 6th

-Rob had vincristine and doxorubicin through IV, which are used to treat a variety of cancers. 

-He finished his first round of chemo and he said he felt weak but on the mend.

-He was able to take a walk around the floor.

-The doctors will now monitor his blood production and figure out the next steps in his treatment.

April 7th

-Even though his chemo ended yesterday, they gave him an extra chemo pill.

-He was feeling nauseous and didn’t eat or drink much.

-He was also tired because his bed moves constantly to prevent bed sores but that makes it hard for him to sleep.

-He maintained good blood pressure even when feeling sick, which usually doesn’t happen when he’s sick at home.

April 8th

-He had bad muscle spasms that moved from his back up to his chest. The doctors gave him an EKG and the results looked normal.

-He was able to take a walk today and was in less pain.

-He ate some food and received IV fluids due to dehydration.

-The doctor said he’ll go home in a few weeks and when he starts his next round of chemo it’ll be scheduled and they’ll have a bed ready for him at the hospital. Not sure if the future stay will be a month long like this current one. He is already on his second round of chemo. He will take dasatinib every day until remission since it’s seen as a maintenance drug.

April 11th

-Bob and Linda visited Rob and they said he was in good spirits. He’s still nauseous and vomiting.

-He received a blood transfusion rather than a plasma transfusion. A nurse said that at this stage it’s not unusual for him to get a blood transfusion every day. It is unsure whether or not the blood transfusion is needed due to his low platelet count or if his blood production is lowered due to the chemo. (I’ll ask Heather to ask the next time she visits.)

-Erica visited a couple days before and said he had a CT scan of his legs when she was visiting. They were looking for blood clots but luckily they didn’t see anything. Previously we thought he had a CT scan in his legs to check for blood clots but it was actually an ultrasound. 

-He also had a CT scan while Bob and Linda were visiting. They scanned his lungs since he’s been congested but didn’t see anything. They didn’t seem too worried about blood clots but it was just a precaution.

April 12th

-Heather said he had a low fever and they had to wait for it to go away before he had his blood transfusion.

-He has a sore throat and lesions in his mouth and throat from the chemo. It has made it painful for him to swallow.

-He seemed more upbeat today.

April 13th

-He was pretty groggy today and was dozing off due to his fatigue.

-He gets blood transfusions because his hemoglobin levels are low. He has blood in his urine and stool so that’s probably why he needs blood transfusions. The doctors say this is from the chemo.

-He had another platelet transfusion today.

-He was given chemo today and yesterday. Heather isn’t sure what’s going on because when she spoke to the oncologist she was told that there would be a break in between rounds of chemo. She will try to speak to someone the next time she visits to get a clear answer.

-Rob was able to get out of bed and shower today and was in a pretty good mood.

April 14th

-He will have a new procedure done tomorrow to figure out what is causing his congestion. It’s called a flexible bronchoscopy with bronchoalveolar lavage. The bronchoscopy is a flexible tube that has a camera and lighting. The bronchoalveolar lavage is the process of flushing the lungs with saline and can be suctioned back through the tube. They may take biopsies which will be done with a little Pacman looking tool that can take chunks of the lung. If there is bleeding they will use argon plasma coagulation to cauterize any bleeds. He will be under twilight sleep during this process which means he’s anesthetized but still verbal.

-In preparation for this procedure, they gave him a platelet transfusion today and will give him another one in the morning. 

-He is already on his second round of chemo. He will take dasatinib every day until remission since it’s seen as a maintenance drug. I was told there would be a break in between rounds of chemo but Rob confirmed that he’s on his second round. 

-(Backstory: Rob has a habit of falling asleep on the couch and when he was woken up to move upstairs he would sit on the edge of the couch and rock back and forth while falling back asleep. It was hard for Heather to wake him up and he would occasionally fall forward.) So last night he started to do the same thing. He was getting ready to get out of bed and the bed has sensors that notified the staff that he was getting up. He had one foot on the floor and ended up leaning forward on the bed. The staff tried calling his name and nudging him awake but he didn’t respond. They ended up laying him on his back and shined lights in his face. He woke up at that point and was responsive but he said he barely remembered what happened. They gave him a brain CT without contrast because they were worried he had a stroke due to his confused state and how hard it was for them to wake him up. It came out negative.

-He can’t use his CPAP machine when sleeping because it hurts his lungs when his diaphragm expands.

-He’s noticed that it’s been easier to breathe as the chemo progresses because the cancer cells are leaving his body.

-He said he also gets blood transfusions because he’s bleeding internally and when he has bloody urine or stool it’s because the cancer cells are leaving his body.

-He said he has been feeling “dumpy” the past few days but he feels a lot better today.

-He has been on constant fluids since checking into the hospital but today they skipped it because he is now too hydrated to the point of having puffy skin.

-They’re keeping track of his electrolyte levels because it’s important that they stay in a good range.

-Previously we thought he had a CT scan in his legs to check for blood clots but it was actually an ultrasound. 

-He has had a CT scan with contrast in his abdomen as well as twice for his chest once with contrast and once without. He has had a CT scan for his lungs. They’re searching for blood clots, lesions, or more cancer.

-The doctors are already talking about bone marrow transplant. Ideally, they would do it while he’s in remission. His parents, siblings, and children can get tested to see if they’re a match to donate bone marrow. His children are the best candidates because they’re younger and can bounce back quickly from the procedure. It seems like the testing would be a simple blood draw.

-He said that he hospital has decent food.

April 16th

-The bronchoscopy was yesterday and he was awake for the procedure. They took samples of the stuff found in his lung and tested it. Most likely, they are culturing it to figure out what it is. Then they flushed his lungs with liquid and sucked it back out of the tube. 

-He has a coccidioidomycosis infection, also known as Valley Fever. It doesn’t look like it has spread. He will have to take antifungal medication twice a day. He thinks he may have had this infection for a long time, even before being admitted into the hospital. He has had slightly elevated levels of white blood cells when he would get blood work done and he thinks it could be due to this infection. And when the chemo was introduced, it gave the fungus the opportunity to thrive. The antifungal medication can mess with his blood sugar so it needs to be monitored.

-He has two doctors on his team. One is a specialist who works with patients undergoing chemo with cancer in their lymphatic system and how they fight infections. The other is an infection disease doctor.

-For the past 4-5 days he’s been having an injection that is supposed to help him produce red blood cells.

-He had a platelet transfusion yesterday. He now bruises easily.

-He also had a PICC line inserted when he was transferred to this hospital. It’s a catheter that is placed in a vein in his arm and it goes all the way into the large veins near his heart. It makes it easier for him to get his medications or to get his blood drawn.

-He has been stumbling with his words, which may be a side effect and he’s still nauseous. He has lost 15 pounds so far.

-His hair started to fall out today.

-He’s had 5 CT scans with contrast so far. The hospital he was originally at did too many of them in a row and it affected his kidneys. The doctors at his current hospital were worried about kidney failure so they have been watching his kidneys closely.

-He had a lot of good sleep and was able to use his CPAP machine last night. He had a lot of energy today. He was able to walk around the hospital floor as well.

April 21st

-Rob is now home!

-He had really good numbers (platelet, red blood cell, electrolyte count) and was given the okay to leave the hospital.

-He has thrush, which is causing lesions in his mouth and esophagus.

-He’s on oxygen and has to carry around an O2 tank.

-His next meeting with his doctor will be on the 26th.

April 26th

-Not too much has been happening since he’s been home.

-He’s been sleeping a lot.

-His appointment with his doctor today went well and they talked about next steps. He’ll need to get another bone marrow biopsy to see if he’ll need to check back into the hospital and start other chemotherapy treatments. It’s possible he could be in remission.

May 3rd

-He will be checking in tomorrow for another hospital stay. It is unclear how long he will stay there.

-He had the bone marrow biopsy done but he doesn’t know the results so we don’t know if he’s in remission. He needs to be in remission in order to get a bone marrow transplant. Otherwise, he will continue with chemotherapy until he’s in remission.

-His levels are borderline okay so he was still getting transfusions while he was at home.

-He has lost 50 pounds so far.

-Hopefully he can talk to his doctors today to get more information about what the next steps will be.

May 5th

-He has checked back into the hospital. He’s expected to only stay for a week this time. He’s on his “second round” of chemo. He’s been on one chemo pill throughout this entire process but now he’s on the second round of other types of chemo.

-Preliminary results show that he may be in remission. Further tests will be done to confirm the remission.

May 17th

-Updates are now being reported by Heather rather than Rob. He hasn’t been well enough to talk on the phone.

-He was discharged last Wednesday. He was supposed to be discharged on Tuesday but he still had high levels of his new chemo drug, methotrexate, in his system so they kept him for another day.

-He had diarrhea for several days after being discharged and on Friday, it was so bad that they went to the ER. But the wait there was between 4-12 hours and he eventually felt better so they just went home.

-He had labs done on Saturday as well as a platelet infusion. He also had a vitamin shot to help him produce more blood cells, I think it’s B12?

-He had a really bad sore throat on Sunday and it was so bad that he couldn’t take his evening pills.

-He’s nauseous today, which makes it hard for him to drink and eat.

-He has another lab appointment tomorrow and depending on the results he may also get another platelet infusion.

-He has lost 60 pounds so far.

-He has a doctor’s appointment on Thursday and hopefully he’ll have the results back from his bone marrow biopsy to confirm that he’s in remission.

May 20th

-The doctor said that he’s essentially in remission even if the test results haven’t come in yet to confirm he’s in remission on a molecular level.

-He will still have to finish his rounds of chemo even though he’s already in remission. He will have 6 more rounds done. If he doesn’t complete all 8 rounds of chemo then there’s a possibility for him to relapse. The bone marrow transplant isn’t enough to keep him in remission, it needs to be all 8 rounds of chemo plus the transplant.

-Since he’s in remission, they will start the bone marrow transplant process. They will need to talk to his insurance to see which hospital the transplant can be done in because sometimes UCI Medical Center can’t do it with certain insurances.

-The transplant can be done starting now until the end of his last round of chemo.

May 31st

-He will most likely check into the hospital next week for this third round of chemo. His hospital stay should only last a week.

-He’s still tired and nauseous but getting better. He has his color in his face back and isn’t relying on the oxygen tank as often.

June 3rd

-On June 1st, he had labs done and almost fainted while at the office. They gave him an infusion of fluids and labs came back showing his creatine levels have almost doubled since Saturday (May 29th). The high levels made them concerned about his kidneys and they told him to go to the ER. The ER told him he had a urinary tract infection.

-He was given IV antibiotics and was discharged the next day.

-He was supposed to start his third round of chemo today but since he's still on antibiotics they will postpone the treatment.

June 30th

-Rob went in for his 3rd round on June 18th and he check out about a week later.

-He had a 7 week gap between his 2nd and 3rd round of chemo and apparently that isn't good. It's supposed to be a 3 week gap in between and any longer than that could mean the chemotherapy won't be as effective. But he was pretty sick during those 7 weeks and they wanted him to feel better before he started chemo. So we believe the doctor's weren't assertive enough when telling him about this 3 week period even though he saw his doctors weekly.

-He is now at home but isn't feeling great after the 3rd round of chemo.

-His insurance won't cover the bone marrow transplant at the hospital he goes to so he will have to find another hospital that will qualify.

July 1st

-He is now on his fourth round of chemo. This one is an out patient procedure. He goes in to get his dose of chemo and then heads home afterwards rather than checking into a hospital for a week.

-He started feeling a lot better after several days of not feeling well at all. He got his appetite and his energy back but not sure how long it will last since he started his fourth round.

July 20th

-He started his fourth round of chemo yesterday. They originally thought the outpatient chemo was the fourth round but it was just remnants of the third round. He will finish it up in four days.

-City of Hope was chosen to be the transplant hospital and his sisters are being tests to see if they're match. If not, they'll look for a match on the registry and if that isn't successful then his sons will be tested. They are half matches so they're not ideal.

-He is officially in molecular remission based off of a test they did with his bone marrow biopsy.

-At the moment he isn't a good candidate because he is too weak. He will have to get his strength up in the next couple of months in order to get the bone marrow transplant.

August 4th

-He had trouble breathing so he was taken to a hospital in Anaheim via ambulance.

-He had a CT scan and was given antibiotics.

-They diagnosed him with pneumonia and transferred him to Foothill Regional Hospital in Tustin.

August 6th

-He was transferred to the ICU this morning.

-He didn't eat last night and didn't want to eat this morning either.

-He was disoriented and that worried the doctor so they gave him another CT scan.

-Heather is trying to get him transferred to the UCI Medical Center since that's where he's been getting his chemo and it's a bigger hospital.

[disparition]

5. Five

bandcamp: https://disparition.bandcamp.com/album/5-five

apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/in-a-walled-city/id1526192366

spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/18ZkP5CrZBaS0CZ74bkyYZ?si=oeG3AhRLRaKxw9CKzrR7Hw

I.

they unfold before you sea after tiny sea partitioned by salt-crusted stone wall after tiny wall stairs and algae miasma of shifting colors they collect in the corner of the eye they add up eyes on the road lines under the earth blur of walls pooling in the corners the sight takes hold the hands grow numb the brain bubbles the sky descends drift from lane to lane an arcing dance a line over the line a circle around and above valley of all valleys born a sea of grass and wandering fire wind, current, and thrum of hives the floods your dreams and longings an arc of bright feeling from root to fingertip starlight across the surfaces of your rivers pylon after pylon eye after eye seen and marked, near silent drifter may your body be generic and featureless may your wiring be gutted and pulled may your quietness fill you may their ear be clogged tiny drifter, shining beetle on a ribbon drawn forth out into the night the winds wrapped around you wanderer, there is no where you can go the map will shift to contain you the known written in under your wheels your feelings writhe, reach, and wrap around the branches we extend to meet you. II. The darkness came hours ago but sleep will not, and so you decide to go for a drive. In silence and grace you decent into the garden. Gently, you remove a section of the cellophane, the part over the window, cutting it with your thumbnail. You slide the window down into its well, pull the door open from the inside, careful to make no contact with the exterior. Inside, you run your hands over every inch of the dashboard, slide them deep into the radio cavity. Making sure, just making sure. You feel those above, opening the fate for you, and those below, melting out from the grass and high roses, gripglove hands just below the windows. You feel the soft motion, wheels just barely sunk into the rich soil. The open gate is at the bottom of a steep hill. In position, the hands let go. Flying just above the ground, low level owl, a quietness of creaking frame and grasses pushed aside. A gathering speed, in the bottom of the stomach and in the corners of the eyes. Hands on the wheel, in no time choice is upon you. III. lines cross just below the grapevine glowing, burning lines who shout their visibility into space built, burned, built again, shaken to rubble, built again frail city of rope and web, half of you invisible sacred city of collision for so long we passed through you hurriedly, unlooking covering every part of you with names and moving on seen from above, so clear south branch and san andreas golden slope and stripe of char IV. You are entering the Sovereign Nation of the Way. Everyone still calls it the Five. All members of all houses are welcome on the Way with the sole condition of motion. Drift. There are five hundred and twenty three official gates into the kingdom of the Five, gates which anyone may cross but if you are not a citizen, you may not stop. And you are not a citizen. Crest on dash, their eyes read you as soon as you cross a threshold, they hold on to you for every moment until you leave. The old eyes, boxes mounted on tall metal frames, the new eyes, tiny and embedded in ever conceivable surface. They appeared in the cities, decades ago, now they are found in every yard of road in every one of the Thirteen Hundred Miles. The Way is a mile wide and immaculate, unbroken by storm, fire, or collision. The Fivers are ever present, working constantly, resurfacing, extinguishing, eternally decorating. On the outer lanes, hulking 32 wheel beasts roll perpetually at thirty miles per hour, spaced ten miles apart from each other. The alcalarodante, each is unique and elaborately designed. These are where the Fivers live and keep their workshops, dispatch their wheelers and small carriers, and watch the endless feeds coming in from the eyes in miles before and behind. In this and many other of their duties, they overlap. The Fivers are fond of redundancy, repetition, certainty. You enter the realm through the Gates of Elysian, the natural flow pulls you quick and silent through the sleeping valley. In no time you’ve reach the southern edge of the old security complex, the Grapevine Wall. Really a series of fortifications starting just below the Castaic checkpoint, they now lie in ruins, empty since the days of Marisol’s exile. The only remaining inhabitants are in the Towers of Frazier, once built to house workers on the Wall as well as Marisol’s garrison, now they are an independent walled city in their own right – and still fiercely loyal to her memory. In this night you see the Towers glowing distantly, lighting the walls of their valley off to the left as you pass the darkened Gates of Tejon. The dramatic landscape around you nearly invisible, the sharp drops and burned strips still pull at you. Even the Way itself, cast into a glowstate, a bright ribbon seen from the stars, feels dimmer in this stretch. But now a flash fills your interior, and then another, a pulse from the alcalarodante ahead on your right – now approaching you feel your carrier slow, resistances wound slowly around outer tires, the pull from a Fiver watching inside. V. every part of you has been covered in fire even in the time before us every part of you gives a golden light even in this smokechoke season gatherers, gatherers machine and hand field after burning field row after shaking row they collect in the corners of the eye they add up a blanket of scars all across the southern valley they stab and suck tens and tens of swords armies of drop carriers benders of pipes cover you with living carcasses wrap around your trunks with iron hands pull and shake until you drop what you hold vibrations separate the root from the soil only a tiny space waiting for the flood the patterns on top of you scream out visible even at this holy distance circle around and above circle around and above VI. What spells weave they, these Fivers? Already your carrier has been netted and lashed by bonds invisible to the edge of the wide deck at the rear of the alcala. You have felt, you have seen throughout this procedure, the light of the Way dimming around you. But that cannot be so. Gripglove hand of a Fiver slides your window down, and then you see the figure step back and beckon. Out you crawl, even at this low speed the transition to the large open platform on is jarring. Wind and ash in your face. Immediately you feel it, the descent, the opening of the valley, the Gates of Wheeler. Drops of moisture collect on you, run in streams along the ornate balustrades of the alcalarodante. The figures around you remain motionless but seem to grow in number as the fog thickens. Just after you pass the Gates, the glow of approaching dawn becomes visible on the eastern horizon. Before you is the City of Wall, one of only four stationary settlements in the entire realm. and also the first. Fortified by Marisol in the last days of her gambit, this section of the old wall community became an independent collective called Interchange before linking up with the rest of what became the Sovereign Nation of the Way. The central keep, on the grounds of the old outlet mall, retains the same footprint and layout of the original structure at its core, but has been expanded in all directions, each outer layer more decorative and less functional than the last. It is here they are bringing you, but the alcala has to perfom some bizarre maneuvre to get you there. You’ve never seen one taken out of its lane. Half a mile inward, at the center of the Way, massive chains of heavy carriers hurtle past at over a hundred miles an hour – unlit, fenced off, their presence known through their churning wind. There is a sudden steep descent and a sharp turn, and then you are beneath the heavy carriers, crossing for half a mile under the southbound Way, emerging in a greygreen light on the far side opposite the keep on a wide, flattened surface - the long ago site of Marisol’s headquarters in the last days of the defense. From here you will cross a bridge, one of very few remaining in the realm, crystal clear and two miles long, double the width of the Five itself, leading from here directly into the keep itself. The alcalarodante never actually stops – Fivers escort you along the outer platform where a narrow staircase leads to a waiting wheeler drifting beside you – you step into it, it peels away, the alcala lumbering off to its route. Can they stop? Is this the source of their power, their endless motion? The wheeler climbs the glasslike slope of the bridge with its thickgrip wheel, the eastern light breaks through and across the valley floor, scattered across the surfaces of the thousand tiny seas the stretch out from the walls of the Five and onward into the flat northern distance. VII. wave after shining wave reed after bending reed wind and current carry your song your fields sunken and untended cormorants cap ancient pylons leaning but still towering over the coursing Way circle around and above even from this sacred distance salt shouts its edges into space layer upon layer a softening grid until the waves return in strength until they wash through the jagged teeth at the base of the bubble until the rivers swell until the waves find themselves again at the foot of Sierra

[halfblood-fiend]

On Humans and Nightmares - Star Trek TOS (with ST: Discovery lore), pre-relationship Kirk x Spock

Taking place shortly after the episode, The Conscience of the King, Kirk grapples with his dredged up trauma and Mr. Spock offers a solution taken from his own past personal experience with his adopted sister.

Words: 4,792

Rating: General Audiences

Warning(s): some hinting to the murder fate of Burnham’s parents, maybe some PTSD if you had annoying/irresponsible older siblings 

Read it on AO3

Jim Kirk sat at the desk in his dimly lit quarters and tried to focus on the words swimming in his vision as best as he could. No matter how stubbornly he stared, the words refused to stay put, to stay sharp. In fact, they seemed rather hellbent in proving this to be an exercise in futility. The reports on the PADDs blurred together in his mind until he couldn’t remember which he had read and approved and which he hadn’t. His itchy eyes and heavy lids were all but begging him to go to sleep. Just get some damn sleep, you miserable fool!

Funny. His inner voice of reason sounded an awful lot like Bones. That thought distracted and amused him for a moment and Jim tried to stretch out his neck and shift in his chair to keep himself awake. Because no matter how badly his body or that inner voice of Bones wanted him to sleep, he couldn’t listen to either.

Or wouldn’t listen to it, as was more the case.

For three days now, nightmares had plagued him. It was silly and childish, and very much not befitting of a captain, to be so afraid of the dark—of sleeping—but Jim thought that if he had to relive Tarsus IV again one more time it might just be the death of him.

Maybe he should have gone straight to Bones for help after the first. If he went right now, maybe he could cajole his friend into giving him some sleep-inducing hypo-spray. Jim considered it…and then dismissed it. The risk of Bones pouring him a glass of whiskey and sitting Jim down to make him “talk it out” was just too great. That was the last thing Jim wanted to do, no matter how good a medically induced death-like sleep sounded. No, he couldn’t risk Bones deciding to do his job this time around. Jim already knew, definitively, whiskey or not, that he did not want to talk about this. What else was there to say about Tarsus that hadn’t already been said before?

Kodos had murdered thousands of people, and then Jim just let him get away with it. Twice. He hadn’t listened to his old friend or his gut and then the murderer was allowed to just…die. All those souls who could never rest easy… Jim had let them all down. Four thousand souls sitting heavy on his shoulders. Like ghosts, they haunted him, plagued him with nightmares as penance for not extracting their justice in their name.

There wasn’t enough whiskey in the galaxy to numb that, let alone in Bones’ stash.

So his perfect and flawless plan to avoid the nightmares? Avoid sleeping.

Jim massaged his eyes with his fingers until black dots popped in his vision. He sat back, yawning, and then the door chime rang. For a heartbeat, he stared at the bulkhead and considered pretending to be asleep, until a nasty thought occurred to him:

Jim had already shirked his duty as a survivor, it would be shameful to avoid his responsibility as a Captain too.

He set his mouth. “Enter,” he sighed.

The door slid open, revealing his first officer in the hallway. Mr. Spock glided inside, his eyes glued to his own PADD. He was already speaking before he had made it fully through the threshold.

“Captain, there seems to be minute inconsistencies in the computer’s analysis of the geothermal data we collected on Al’her V. I wonder if—”

The Vulcan glanced up at Jim for the first time and stopped dead. The look in his eyes made Jim wonder what an awful sight he was, to give his first officer such pause. He tried to give Spock a smile, hoped it wasn’t more of a grimace. “You wonder if?” he prompted.

“Sir…” Spock cocked his head to the side. Jim had hardly known Spock to hesitate when he had something to say, and something in the timbre of the other man’s single syllable made him curious. Jim felt it teetered on the edge of something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He stared at Spock’s mouth for a moment, fascinated by it. Waiting.

No, he was thinking too much into it. He was delirious. Jim rubbed his face again and said a quick prayer to anyone listening that his exhaustion wouldn’t give way to impropriety.

At least, not today.

“Captain,” Spock said seriously, appearing to make up his mind, “are you well?”

To tell the truth or to tell a lie? To tell or to lie? There were merits and downsides to both, and Jim attempted to weigh them all quickly in his sluggish mind.

“No, Spock, I…” Jim began… and then lost his nerve. “I’m just tired is all.”

“Tired,” Spock echoed. His dark eyes flicked to the bright green letters of the chronometer beside Jim’s bed and then to the neatly tucked in sheets. Been that way for days. “If you have not slept since our last full shift on the bridge, I calculate that you will not have slept for nearly thirty-six hours.”

“Oh?” It was thirty-eight, actually. If one counted the two hours before their shift that Jim’s last nightmare had stolen from him. But who was counting?

“That is unsafe for a human, and more so for a starship captain. You should consider seeing to your needs for the greater benefit.”

Jim could only find it in himself to nod. He knew that already. He had given the same sort of lecture to himself, but the consistency of the nightmares made it difficult. Even if he did fall asleep, the snatches of rest he got were fitful at best. So, what did Spock know about it? Jim didn’t have the patience right now to listen to this.

His displeasure may have shown on his face, for Spock’s brows knit. He approached Jim’s desk and sat gracefully on the other side of it, laying his PADD aside. When the man spoke again, his voice was gentler, and made Jim’s heart ache in his chest.

“It is something else, isn’t it? Something, perhaps, to do with the travelling theatre troupe? I do realize how the loss of Govenor Kodos must have affected you.”

“How could you possibly realize that?” Jim spat before he could stop himself.

Spock may have appeared unmoved by the venom in Jim’s voice, but he felt immediately guilty anyway. Spock didn’t have anything to do with it, he didn’t deserve to be snapped at. He was even, quite unexpectedly, trying to help Jim.

His heart shriveled up in his chest. He backtracked. “I’m sorry, Spock. I… yes. Kodos or Karidian or whomever he was… his end was…dissatisfying to say the least. I’ve been unsettled ever since.”

“You are dissatisfied with his death?”

“I am dissatisfied with the lack of justice in it.” Jim considered saying more. He considered telling his first officer that it was unfair and frustrating and made him feel like the useless child once again, watching the horror unfold from behind the stands. Powerless once more. But these were all feelings, just raw emotions and Spock would never, either by his nature or by his own desire, understand any of those.

And Jim refused to unburden himself by burdening this Vulcan with his humanity.

Besides, Jim was sure that Spock was sure there was more to it anyway. It was hard to put anything past him. The other man’s interlaced fingers pressed to his lips; Spock’s lovely, deep-set eyes regarded him.

“One would assume you wouldn’t lose sleep over mere dissatisfaction. “

“They’re just nightmares, Spock,” Jim said quickly, realizing that he had to act fast if he wanted to wriggle out of the same impromptu therapy he had wanted to avoid in Bones. “Old faces. Old nightmares. Nothing to be very worried about, but still. I don’t sleep well.”

“Ah.” Spock nodded, more to himself it seemed. “And you hoped that staying alert for as long as possible would—”

“Make me too tired to dream, yes,” Jim finished for him. “That was the idea, anyway. I wish there was a guarantee it would work…”

Spock was quiet a few moments, his brows knit a little while he thought. Jim found himself sleepily taking advantage of the vulcan’s downturned gaze. He hadn’t been this close to Spock for some time, trying to give him the distance he deserved, even though Jim wanted very badly to be near him. Constantly, inexplicably. Vulcans, he knew, didn’t appreciate that. But maybe if he drank in Spock’s face now, Jim could replace his nightmares with far pleasanter dreams. Filled with long steepled fingers and black bangs and dark eyes, curving pointed ears and high cheekbones—Spock suddenly looked up, brightly, for a Vulcan, and took Jim aback. “If I may…Jim, offer something of a solution?”

His name! Jim didn’t think Spock had ever used his name before. He was surprised that he had used ‘Jim’ and not ‘James.’ It was more proper, more expected. Overwhelmingly curious, Jim indicated that Spock continue.

“It has been my experience that humans, as social creatures, garner direct benefits from social interactions. I…knew of another human who often had nightmares in the first several years that I knew her. These dreams went away with time and mental discipline, but a temporary solution could be found once she was no longer alone in a room. It is…an imperfect solution, and perhaps it would make you uncomfortable, but as an integral member of this crew with so many lives at risk, I hope you give it proper consideration, Jim. So, it is by this logic that offer my company in your room tonight so that you may get some clearly much needed rest.”

Jim stared. He couldn’t believe his ears. Spock was offering to—what? —stay the night with him? Keep him company? That couldn’t be right. That seemed...so out of character. Not that Jim claimed to know his first officer very well beyond a spotless service record. Did he make a habit of keeping nightmare-having women company in their quarters? That wasn’t something that was on his file.

There is nothing else for it but to ask, Jim supposed.

“And…just what are you intending to propose? I am…afraid it’s unclear. Forgive me.”

Spock nodded as though there was nothing amiss and Jim wasn’t sitting across from him having an audible heart attack while being prodded with jealousy. “Not surprising given your sleepless state. I am offering my presence for whatever comfort you might take from it. It is my estimation that I may just as easily analyze reports in your quarters as in mine. Only here, I hypothesize I would aid in putting your mind to rest.”

Ah. So…just offering to stay over to be another body in the room. Jim tried to ignore the way his heart shrunk in disappointment.

He didn’t know what his imagination had been on about. That, all-of-a-sudden, Spock would crawl right into his bed was ludicrous.

And yet.

Rubbing his face again, banishing impure thoughts mingled with disappointment, Jim agreed. “It’s worth a shot. Better than what I’m doing, anyway, if I’m being honest. Though I will request that you don’t tell Bones. About the nightmares, I mean. He’d have my head if he knew I wasn’t reporting sleeping problems again.”

“It is my experience that our dear doctor has ‘had men’s heads’ for less, but I will comply.”

Jim smiled. “Bones is just a staunch believer in tough love, that’s all. I…appreciate what you’re doing, Spock. You will…wake me if—”

“I will keep an eye out, Captain, and wake you if anything seems amiss.”

Jim hadn’t missed the way Spock had switched back to his formal name-calling. He wasn’t upset about it. He wasn’t.

With a final lingering look, Jim rose and drowsily made his way to his bed. His heaviness hit him all at once. He had really managed to stay up for a long while, hadn’t he? He hadn’t pulled such a stunt since all-nighters in his academy days. But it wasn’t just his finals he was risking anymore. Spock was right about becoming a danger to his ship, of course. Jim was putting all their lives at risk with his fear.

He had half a mind to crawl into bed in his clothes, both for ease and to protect Spock’s eyes, but Jim knew he could never get comfortable like that. So he stripped down to his briefs and dove into bed as quickly as he could manage. He blushed, but made sure not to glance back at Spock, presumably still sitting at the desk.

Don’t think about him watching you undress.

Closing his eyes, Governor Kodos’ face swam into Jim’s vision right on time, but it didn’t bring with it the pangs of anger or regret. This time, the half-shadowed memory hardly bothered Jim at all.

This time, Jim didn’t have to face his demon alone.

Spock resumed his previous manual calculations and noted that Jim was quiet for several hours. It was just as well.

For a moment after he made his offer, Spock experienced a fleeting pang of regret, a sudden nagging at the back of his consciousness that he was being far too forward with the Captain.

Obvious, to put it bluntly. He was being obvious.

Whatever base attraction he had to the captain had to be controlled and ignored. He mustn’t let him know. Not because the Captain would be cruel or make an ordeal out of it—he wouldn’t, Spock was certain—but because Spock would never be able to live with the soft pity he could vividly imagine in Jim’s eyes if he learned of Spock’s infatuation.

Tonight, he had nearly given himself away.

While logical for a human to require the comfort of another person in the room with them to sleep, Spock had promptly assessed that his offer was being taken in a more physical direction than he had originally intended. Jim’s blank and uncertain surprise had all but confirmed it.

Spock caught and corrected his behavior, as he so often did around Jim, but decided not rescind his solution.

The offer, after all, had been genuine, and from genuine experience.

Since her arrival in their home, Michael Burnham had been plagued with nightmares.

At first, her shouts in the dead of night from down the hall were irksome to him, disturbing Spock either during his late meditation or his own slumber on numerous occasions. When it became apparent they would be a regular occurrence, Spock found himself uniquely concerned. Not only for himself, and how being woken through the night might affect his days in the Learning Center, but also for the affect it had on his mother, who was most often the one who would go to Michael and console her. He never spared much thought for the wellbeing of the new intruder, Michael Burnham until some time later.

After Michael had lived with them for a few months and his concern now included her, he got up the nerve to ask about her nightmares. It was a particularly cool afternoon, late in the year, and they worked together on assignments in a sunny spot on their kitchen table.

“Why do you have nightmares every night?”

Michael turned furtive in her seat across from him. She pulled the textbook they were sharing nearer to her PADD and pretended to be engrossed in it.

“What are they of?”

Shrugging, she mumbled, “I dunno. Just...bad dreams, I guess.”

Spock could tell she was lying but could also tell that pressing the issue outright would yield him no new results. He judged a new tack of lending helpfulness would fare better. Humans, generally most people, responded well to being helped by their peers.

“When I have bad dreams, father cautions me to meditate on them. Being afraid of them gives them power. He says it’s better to face it outright—”

“I guarantee you that we don’t have the same bad dreams, Spock.” Her voice was cold and hard, and her eyes did not move over the text in any attempt to appear she was reading anymore. “Can’t you just drop it?”

“I want to help you,” Spock insisted, leaning forward in his chair. “If you don’t do well in the Learning Center—”

“I’m doing fine!”

“No, you’re not. Your productivity is declining by 2.3 percent a week and your response times are most likely inhibited by—”

Michael clapped her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, crying, “Just STOP IT! Can’t you see I don’t want to talk about it? Just STOP ASKING!”

This was not going as well as he planned. “I only want to help—”

“My parents were murdered by Klingons right in front of me! I have to hear it every night! You can’t help that! NO one can!”

Spock's mouth snapped closed and he stared across at her. For a long time, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. What could be said?

And before he realized an apology should be tumbling from his lips, Michael had scooped up all her study materials and rushed from the table, tears streaming behind her.

Sybok slouched into the room just as Michael pushed past him. He looked up at Spock with bleary but accusing eyes. “What did you do now?”

“Nothing!”

“They might not have as much control over their emotions as our kind, but even humans don’t cry for ‘nothing’.”

“I wasn’t doing anything. I was trying to help!”

His older brother’s lean face was impassive, but Spock swore he saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. “Of course,” Sybok scoffed. “You did a great job.”

Scowling, Spock shoved away from the table and collected his own things.

Don’t be mad. I don’t feel anger. The way his human eyes pricked in the corners were in direct contradiction to his thoughts.

Spock was trying to help. And what did Sybok know about that? All he did was stay shut up in his room, sometimes for days on end, until Amanda lured him out with food. Spock didn’t think he had ever thought about helping Michael.

“Where are you going now?”

Spock ignored him. He kept his head low, intent on pushing past Sybok if he tried to stop him. But he met no resistance.

“How about you try not to make it worse this time,” Sybok called after Spock as he reached the stairwell.

Without glancing back, Spock took them two at a time.

He would speak with Michael again. He would apologize. He would—

But he never did get to that day, or any day after. The next time he saw Michael, she acted as though nothing had transpired at all. Spock had been forced to let it go.

Until one night, when both Sarek and Amanda were out for the evening at a dignitary’s gala.

Spock had nearly fallen asleep when a scream—Michael’s scream—echoed through the house.

Turning over, Spock pressed his pillow around his head and attempted to go back to sleep. Sybok was in charge. He would handle it in his parents’ absence. Likely in the same indifferent way he had handled “dinner”, but he would handle it all the same. Michael’s wellbeing wasn’t Spock’s problem tonight. Their parents had said…

And then a small, timid knock on his door roused him from the edges of a hazy dream.

Rubbing his eyes, swallowing his annoyance, Spock threw himself out of bed and stomped across the floor. He yanked on the handle, and there Michael stood, with tears in her eyes. Sneaking a glance down the hall, Spock saw Sybok’s door firmly closed and Michael’s thrown wide open.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, struggling to keep irritation out of his voice. “Are you hurt? Do you require a healer?”

Michael shook her head, but still the tears ran silently down her cheeks. “M-may I enter?”

Without a valid reason not to, Spock stood aside for her. She wiped her nose and tried to gather herself in the dark room as he waited. He focused on keeping perfectly still to keep his foot from tapping. It helped to busy himself counting the seconds of lost sleep in his head and attempting to calculate the impact they would have on his marks at the Learning Center the next morning. In the end, it was impossible to be accurate because his data was incomplete without a single important variable: how long this interruption would take.

“I can hear them, Spock,” Michael said finally. She was quiet and her voice sounded raw on the edges from crying. “Have you ever heard a Klingon growl before? My dad, he shouted at them, but he couldn’t stop—my mom—” Whatever else she might have said choked off in a sob.

Spock’s eyes grew wide and his body became tense. He was not equipped to deal with…this.

Suddenly, Spock understood. Sarek had informed him and his brother before she arrived of the fate of Michael Burnham’s real parents and warned them against asking Michael about it.

“Humans don’t often wish to discuss such things,” his father had said. “They find these emotions difficult to process and attempt to avoid them. You should respect that desire until she is ready.”

Sybok yawned in a way that felt very purposeful, but Spock had diverted Sarek’s reprimand by asking, “How long should we expect that to take?”

He pressed his mouth in a line as he stared at his eldest son for a moment before answering his youngest, “It is impossible to approximate. Perhaps she will never choose to speak of it, but we must maintain that it is her choice to do so.”

How he wished he had made the connection between this and Michael’s nightmares. It seemed so obvious now.

To his surprise (or maybe relief) she didn’t say any more, though neither did her tears subside. Spock wondered if he should attempt to comfort her somehow, but found he was ill-equipped to do that either. Spock couldn’t even raise his arms to offer a hug. He just stood there motionless, mouth glued shut, tongue like lead.

Helpless. Useless.

Michael finally spoke. “Would.. would it be okay if I slept in here with you? I could get my blanket and stay on the floor? Usually Amanda comes and stays with me until I go back to sleep, but… but…”

But his mother wasn’t here, he finished for her.

Spock licked his lips and tried to speak, but still nothing would come. The request didn’t seem outlandish, through his mind pricked with a strange desire to do more. But what, he didn’t know, so he nodded.

As Michael dashed away to grab her things, Spock tried to reconcile what it must have been like to relieve the loss of your family over and over again in your dreams. Being tortured by the other children was one thing. The vague monstrous shapes of his imagination that haunted his own nightmares was one thing. But a memory that wouldn’t leave you? He tried to imagine his mother screaming, his home burning, his father fighting the hulking shapes of Klingon warriors wielding fierce glinting bat’leths, and Spock understood. His heart ached terribly, and he felt his own hot tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

Inappropriate, as Vulcans do not cry. Shaking his head, Spock bid the imaginary specters to leave him alone, assuring himself that the only danger threatening his mother and father tonight was an overabundance of champagne.

By the time she had returned clutching her duvet and pillow, he’d regained control of himself.

Michael closed the door behind her and followed him back towards his bed. She stopped short and tossed her pillow on the ground by the thick rug protruding from under the bed’s feet.

Pausing in pulling away his covers, Spock made a quick and logical decision. “That is unnecessary,” he said, finding his voice at last. Maybe he couldn’t describe his empathy to her, or fully realize how awful it must have been to relive your parents’ final moments, as he still had his. Maybe he couldn’t quite give the Terran the exact comfort she might have needed, but Spock was convinced he could still do something. “Your dreams have already deprived you of hours of restful sleep tonight. I see no reason to spend the rest of your time in discomfort when my bed is plenty big enough for the both of us.”

Michael, wide-eyed and disbelieving, looked from her pillow on the floor to Spock’s large bed. “Are…are you sure?”

Admittedly, he swam in it most nights. “Yes. It’s logical.”

She blinked at him a moment more before scooping the pillow up and climbing up onto the bed, dragging her own duvet behind her. She wriggled to the far side as Spock clambered in after her.

“Good night, Spock,” Michael whispered as he gathered his own blanket around himself.

He hoped it would prove to be now. “Good night, Michael.”

They both quickly fell back asleep and did not wake the rest of the night.

It was the first of many such encounters in their youth, and eventually, she stopped asking permission at all. It came to be that whenever Spock heard his door open, rousing him from sleep, he rolled over to the side to make room for his sister.

There was a marked difference, she informed him objectively, in the consistency of her nightmares when she had his presence beside her.

Spock was satisfied he could similarly aid his captain, now.

Just as he decided to settle in for a meditation, Jim’s rest took a turn for the worse. He began to pant and to moan piteously as he shifted in his bed. Then he thrashed, a twist of limbs and blanket. The only intelligible words that could be discerned by Spock’s ears was “No.” The single syllable left his lips in a string and ended in a final, barely audible, “Not them.”

Spock crossed to Jim and deliberated a moment. The Human’s handsome face was scrunched as though he were in pain, lovely mouth open and gasping for breath. Spock reached a hand towards Jim’s forehead, but paused. No, that seemed like a severe breach in manners. Many humanoids did not appreciate their minds being invaded without permission. He didn’t know the Captain quite well enough for that.

Yet.

Spock pressed the thought from his mind with vague irritation and considered alternatives when Jim suddenly rolled over away from him towards the wall. The new position exposed an ample amount of space on the mattress, ample enough to—

With hindsight, Spock realized he could have—and perhaps should have—wakened Jim and let events unfold from there. But in the moment, with Michael’s ordeal still on his mind, and wanting Jim to have a full night’s peace, Spock did what he would continue to argue was “perfectly logical” for days later. Even when he knew, deep down and with burning shame, that it very much was not.

He dispensed himself of his polished black boots and carefully tested his weight on the edge of the mattress. Spock watched Jim closely, searching for any indication he was waking. All he saw was Jim’s broad back heaving, his head twitching minutely on his pillow. It appeared to be safe enough. He was not disturbed.

Spock climbed into bed behind the fitful captain and when that alone did not appear to ease Jim’s heartrate, he snaked his arms around the other man’s waist. Michael had found this comforting in their youth, he reasoned, and most, if not all, Humans gained distinct benefit from touching others. He would ask forgiveness later, he decided, closing his eyes. He listened to the erratic patter of Jim’s heart and labored breathing, counting the beats and noting their rhythm.

Jim’s relief with the pressure of his arm was very nearly instantaneous. Tense muscles in his back and neck relaxed, a long sigh parted his lips, and, slowly, minute by minute, the frantic heartbeat settled. As Jim relaxed into a deep sleep, he pressed himself into Spock’s chest and the Vulcan noted that he fit snuggly. Almost as though it was where he belonged.

Spock roughly shoved the thought from his mind before it could have the chance to plant itself and grow.

This is logical, Spock thought firmly, settling his head onto the Captain’s second pillow. This is necessary to protect the rest of the crew.

His own fluttering heart was the only thing brave enough to call him a liar.

Thank you for reading! <3

[lonelypond]

AU YEAH AUGUST: Café Quarantine, Part IV

Love Live, NicoMaki, 4.4K, 4/5

Summary: Nico's feeling better and the quarantine is about to end, but will the Café continue?

Chapter IV

Maki paused in the door of the kitchen. A masked Nico was prepping what looked like lasagna. Maki grinned. Nico had started objecting to takeout, insisting she could make better, healthier food.

“How were the donuts?” Nico asked, aware of Maki even turned away.

“Perfect.”

Nico snorted.

“Hey Nico.” Maki had woken up with an idea.

“Mmmm hmmm.” Nico hummed as she spread another layer of sauce.

“Why don’t you have your Mom bring your siblings over?”

Nico spun, sauce spilling across the counter.

“I mean, you can use the media room. I’ve got controllers enough for everybody to play MarioKart or something. I bet they miss you a lot. You shouldn’t be contagious.”

“You want to be beat at MarioKart by more people?” Nico aimed the spoon at Maki and flicked her wrist.

“Ha! You beat me once.” Then Maki shrugged, “I’d stay out of the way. I might still be asymptomatic.”

“Maki will be fine.” Nico said fiercely, surprising Maki.

“Probably.” Maki agreed, “Anyway, ask your Mom. She doesn’t work on the weekends, right? It’ll give them something to be excited about.” Maki zoomed off, while Nico was still processing the offer.

###

“No!!!” Maki roared at her phone while Hanayo’s not in any way innocent suggestion blinked there. It was time to pick another theme after three days of “Dames.” And Hanayo, probably with Rin giggling in the background had just sent a group text with the word “Kiss.” Sure Maki might have thought it to herself, maybe imagined singing “Prelude to A Kiss” or “Give Me A Kiss To Build A Dream One” but her private conversations in her own head were private, never to be shared or discussed in the same house as Nico.

No, no, no...this had to be stopped before Nico agreed. She typed quickly.

M: I thought Nico’s friend was going to dance. So wouldn’t dance be good? “

M: Or weather, I’ve been wanting to play “A Foggy Day in Londontown.”

N: Dance is good.

H: ಠ╭╮ಠ

Maki got a non group text from Rin.

R: Chicken.

M: This isn’t helping me, Rin.

R: (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ))

R: (っ˘зʕ•̫͡•ʔ

Maki stormed out of her own bedroom, hoping to avoid Nico, slamming the music room door, and settling down to play. Time to Beethoven the annoyance at nudge-y friends out of her system.

###

The Yaazawas were in the house. Maki had decided to stay upstairs, listening to music in her room, but the need for a snack and something to do drew her out. She was positive that the extra games she’d downloaded would keep them occupied all afternoon.

A quick cold slice of pizza for refueling and Maki decided to sneak past the media room to the music room. There were yells and laughter and Nico trash talking. She sounded happier than she had since the quarantine started. Soon, maybe tomorrow, she’d go back to her place. Maki moved away from the door quickly before anyone noticed her, but it wasn’t quickly enough.

“DR. MAKI!!!!!” A voice Maki didn’t recognize screamed and a small weight slammed into her before she reached the sanctuary of the music room. “You saved Nico. You’re the best doctor.”

Maki froze and looked down. She’d seen pictures of Nico’s siblings. This was the middle one, a girl, Cocoa. Nico said she was constantly in motion. Maki believed that because as light as Cocoa was, she’d started dragging Maki back down the hall, “C’mon, Nico says you love MarioKart. Play with me. Cocoro only wants to play dancing games.” Cocoa let go and looked up at Maki eagerly. Did Nico look like that when she was a preteen, she definitely still had that much energy now.

Maki stepped back, “I can’t. I still have a couple days before I can hang out with people.”

“Nico said you’re probably fine.” Cocoa kept bouncing.

“I don’t want to take any risks?”

Cocoa’s expression turned serious, “Are your parents making you? Nico said they were really serious about quarantining.”

Did Nico tell her siblings everything? What had she said about Maki? Maybe Maki should have lingered in the hall and eavesdropped.

“I have to go. Go have fun with Nico.”

Nico’s voice saved her, “C’mon Cocoa. Nico approves of Maki being extra careful. We’ll come back sometime when she’s not quarantining, right, Maki?”

“Sure. Any time.” Maki wondered what games Nico’s little brother was enjoying and if Nico was really into dance games and had never mentioned it. Rin and Hanayo could come over sometime and…

“Have fun.” Maki headed for the back door, thinking about too many things for music..

“Thanks, Dr. Maki!” Cocoa waved, Maki nodded.

###

No moon yet. Maybe Maki would stay out here until dark. Nico’s mom would be taking the littler ones home soon and then Nico would probably nap and then there was Café Quarantine. Dance. Hanayo had finally agreed to the dance theme and Maki had practiced “One Note Samba” late last night. Nico would be singing “I Won’t Dance” while Maki played. Maki was not in a duet mood. Not really in a music mood, but…

Nico’s voice again, “Are you all right?”

Maki shrugged.

“Nico made you masks with music notes. They’re in the laundry.”

“Thanks.” Maki closed her eyes, refusing to look at Nico, hands behind her head, “Can you get Cocoro and Cocoa to stop calling me Dr. Maki. I didn’t save you.”

“So it’s all right if Cotaro does?”

Maki ignored that. She heard Nico sit in the chair to her left, “Nico is really grateful. All the pizza delivery saved Nico cooking. And the acoustics here.” Nico whistled.

“It was the right thing to do.”

“Nico feels special.” A nip of sarcasm, Maki grinned.

“When are you leaving?”

“Nico is going to make sure Maki is well.”

“I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay for me.”

“You’ll have to swing by Nico’s apartment. We can do a Café Quarantine from there, but Nico doesn’t have a piano. I could borrow a keyboard. We could set up a little corner, it won’t be as fancy as your house, but people will…”

“This isn’t my house.”

Silence.

Nico was great at reading a room, at sensing what her audience, whether a customer or a drinking, dancing crowd wanted to hear, wanted to share. But not this one single person. Not Maki. If her knowledge of Maki was a mansion, Nico had only spent time on the ground floor and Maki had fled to the roof or the yard, having conversations with the stars in long silences that Nico watched from a distance. Nico knew there was a key, a way to understand Maki, but right now, her only guess was more time and Maki relaxing enough to trust her. So Nico went back to practical. And the thing they’d had in common at the first.

“Nico will almost be glad to get back to the coffee shop. Nico hasn’t slept this many hours since she was a baby, a very cute baby, but it’ll be nice to have…”

“I’m glad for you.” Maki tried not to snap, then opened her eyes, Nico was watching, almost too near, her expression curious, worried. Questions Maki didn’t want to hear gathered. Maki stood, “The samba needs more work. I’m glad your family’s having fun.”

“Maki?” Nico sounded hurt at Maki’s rush to leave. Maki wondered how she’d feel when Maki stopped showing up at the coffee shop. Would it be a relief? An answer Maki didn’t want right now. Scowling as a puzzled Nico stared, Maki didn’t acknowledge the invitation to talk, instead she fled upstairs, crushed a pillow to her chest, and buried tears before anyone could hear them.

###

Maki had lost the argument. Nico was back in the music room, in a tight, tight so so short little black dress that was going to interfere with Maki’s ability to read music if she glanced Nico’s way at all. And Maki suspected Nico knew that, from the teasing, take no prisoners twinkle in the ruby cannons. Which led to their first disagreement, Nico finding Maki’s trousers and open lilac linen shirt not nearly dressy enough.

“How does it look when the pianist doesn’t meet the dress code?” Nico pouted.

“There are no customers, Nico. We’re not sticking people in ties when they show up at the door. It’s just us.”

“And the camera. And the principle. Nico runs a classy place.” Nico spun, she was still wearing her mask, “Didn’t you say you enjoyed Hanayo harassing you. Well, now that I’m feeling better, you get in person service.”

“I didn’t ask for” Maki sneered, “In person service.”

“Nico knows what people want.”

“I want comfort.” Maki rolled up her sleeves. “It’s been a long day.”

“And you weren’t chasing kids around, which is tiring, if you didn’t know, so give Nico a break. And a perq,”

“A perq?”

“Nico is eye candy.” Nico waved her hands, showcasing her very well put together aesthetic, Maki completely caught by the curve of a calf. “Where’s Nico’s treat?”

Maki sat at the piano and the opening notes of “I Won’t Dance” filled the room.

“All right, that is a treat. And Nico appreciates it. But why don’t you match the music.”

Maki set her jaw, pivoted so she was facing Nico, who was now taller than her, which was very weird when you’re used to towering over the tiny tempest and now this set of stellar, torn from distant galaxies gems was dangerously close for the molten lava temps they were throwing off, “So I have to pretty up to be appreciated?”

Nico’s mouth opened and closed, like chewing gum was happening instead of speaking, and then a flood of charm and apology rushed Maki as Nico’s hands seemingly tried to sculpt the gown she wanted Maki to wear in the air between them. “Nico didn’t mean that at all. Maki’s doing Nico so many favors and you’ve had so much fun dressing up, Nico can tell, Maki’s so classy, surely there’s a little black dress in your closet…

Maki raised a hand, “That is a lovely dress.” She fidgeted with her collar. “I may, just may, be slightly underdressed so I’ll see what I can find.”

“Ooohh, Nico can help.”

“No.”

Nico sat on the piano bench, wondering if Maki was going to go for a gown or a cocktail dress. Most of Maki’s gowns were off the shoulder, so that would definitely be...Nico sighed, pointless fantasies unless Nico spoke up. Obviously, Maki was losing interest in the audience she had here.

Maki came back with a tuxedo jacket and a fedora, her smirk daring Nico to say something. Nico pulled a rose out of the floral arrangement in the hallway and handed it to Maki, who blushed so adorably Nico wanted to kiss the tip of her nose.

And then without any more talk, the evening’s Café started.

This is just a little samba built upon a single note Other notes are bound to follow but the root is still that note Now this new one is the consequence of the one we've just been through As I'm bound to be the unavoidable consequence of you

Nico was singing, showing surprising verve and vigor in the quick steps of her dance as she swayed into "the unavoidable consequence of you” That summed up Nico nicely, Maki thought. The Brazilian songs seemed to suit her, maybe that was why Maki kept coming back to them. Lively, vibrant, 24/7, a bossa nova beauty of complex harmonies twisting through an irresistible rhythm that was beginning to be the constant, too rapid default beating of Maki’s heart. “Estou com saudades de você” the Brazilians said. “I miss you soon” Maki thought, an inexact translation, but one that carried the feeling of the ease with Nico that she’d barely had and the loss of proximity that would derail any chance their connection would grow.

Nico came up behind Maki, the sudden proximity a fever of its own, and Maki felt fingers stroke through her hair, stealing her fedora, and then quicksilver Nico was back at the camera, for her audience. It was growing every night, Nico’s recovery spiking viral likes and comments. Hanayo was about to start selling branded masks and fuzzy socks.

Nico said something, then the camera was off, and Nico’s complete attention was on Maki. So Maki ducked, taking cover in the samba again, singing

There's so many people who can talk And talk and talk and just say nothing Or nearly nothing I have used up all the scale I know And at the end I've come to nothing Or, nearly nothing

Nico laughed, “The unavoidable consequence of Nico, huh?”

Maki grinned, “I didn’t say it.”

“No.” Nico was behind Maki, her hands sliding down Maki’s jacket, playing a quick, almost right chord as she softly sang in Maki’s ear.

So, I come back to my first note as I must come back to you I will pour into that one note all the love I feel for you Any one who wants the whole Show-Re-Mi Fa-So-La-Ti-Do He will find himself with no show Better play the note you know

Maki in a daring move, slid her hands under Nico’s and played the finish.

Now was the time, “I’m quitting the coffee shop, Nico.”

Nico risked a quick, loose hug, “Yeah, your parents probably would not like you being that exposed. You’ll be in Princess in a Tower mode.”

“I’m an adult, Nico.” Maki could have cried for the wavery betrayal of her voice, “I’m going to turn 21.”

“Don’t drink your way through Chicago. Trust Nico.” Nico stepped back.

“Why? What did you do?” Maki spun to face Nico.

“You’re still too young for that story...when’s your birthday? Nico will bake you a cake.”

“Next week”

“What’s your favorite flavor. Besides pizza.”

Maki shrugged.

“What are you going to do when you’re not working? Coronavirus kinda closed colleges. Did you pick a major?” Nico had settled into the farthest corner of the couch. Maki took a quick look, but the legs were too distracting, and Nico’s exquisite profile looked even sharper with the weight of serious thought shadowing perfect angles. Maki thought she might swoon.

“I have a plan.”

“Tell Nico.”

Maki shook her head, turning back to the piano as she blushed.

“C’mon tell Nico."

Maki began to play. A random song. Maki had been listening to the NYC Jazz Quartet and Vocalist Naski Young Cho. “Paris Match” had been looping. Maki could hear the lyrics in her head so she started singing.

As I tread the boulevard floor Will I see once more; Because you've clouded my mind 'Till then I'm biding my time I'm only sad in a natural way And I enjoy sometimes feeling this way The gift you gave is desire The match that started my fire Empty nights with nothing to do I sit and think, every thought is for you; I get so restless and bored So I go out once more; I hate to feel so confined I feel like I'm wasting my time

Maybe not so random a choice. Maki pushed back from the piano, shaking her head. Too many fever/fire/heat analogies. Good thing she wasn’t a painter or there would be rubies and lava and flames licking every wall she could put paint to. Instead, she put that excess in every note she had the energy to play and then hoped to collapse into dreamless sleep.

“What was the name of that song?” Nico’s voice was quiet.

“Paris Match.”

“That’s on the playlist with that NYC Jazz quartet Korean singer you’ve been listening to, what was her name?”

“Naski Young Cho.”

“Her style works for you?”

Nico wasn’t going to ask about the lyrics. General music questions were safe. Maki yawned, starting to relax. “She’s all right. Had to get used to her voice a little.”

“Did you have to get used to Nico’s?”

“No.”

A hand was suddenly gentle on Maki’s shoulder and Nico’s voice was stripped of all affectation, caring, honest, “You’re not wasting your time with music, Maki.”

Maki’s shrug was the smallest of gestures, but Nico’s hand squeezed gently in response. Another yawn.

“C’mon, Chopin, let’s get you to bed.”

“Satie.”

“The weird French guy? Okay, Ms. Surreal, tell Nico your melting clock dreams over breakfast.”

Not if they were anything like the last ones she remembered, Nico in a costume stolen from Cabaret or Chicago. Should anyone think about fishnets that fondly? Maki let Nico push her toward the stairs. When had she last actually slept for longer than a couple of hours? Maybe, giving in to the weariness closing her eyes, would reset her mood. A mood reset, to one less incendiary, was essential.

###

Maki was eating cereal, watching SheRa, and not thinking about Nico or anything. Chewing. Just chewing. She’d been ignoring Rin and parent texts all morning. Nico would probably be leaving soon and then it would be time for Maki to take that step. But right now, this was a pocket of time when she was living in a space where Nico’s voice could be heard and she was going to treasure every minute of that. Netossa...Maki grinned as the character teased and challenged her wife.

“Hey Maki!” Nico fell over the back of the couch, a controlled trajectory, startling Maki and causing her cereal bowl to spill onto the table. Nico dropped her head on Maki’s shoulders, eyes mischievous, “This is too much fun.”

Maki stood up, but Nico pulled her back down, leaning forward with a dish towel, “Nico came prepared.”

“Um...we shouldn’t be…” Maki started.

“Nico is fine. And chock full of antibodies so Maki couldn’t give it to me if you tried.”

“No one knows how it works, Nico.” Maki slid further down the cushion.

“No, but that’s a pretty good guess. Nico did research, talked to her doctor.”

“Papa told you…”

“Well, I didn’t ask your father if it was okay if I made his daughter jump off the couch, squealing, no, but we went over the basics.”

“Oh.”

Silence and then Nico sounding nervous, “Nico’s going to go back to her apartment tomorrow. If you come over, Nico will cook dinner and we can duet.”

Maki didn’t know what to say. Nico was leaving. No more nights like last night. Maki alone again. Nico off with her friends, her family, doing all the thousand things, without Maki, that Nico had done before this quarantine.

“Maki? Did you hear me?” Nico poked Maki’s shoulder, her expression comic hurt.

Maki shook her head, forcing herself to look more thoughtful than morose. “I can’t just put the piano in my pocket.”

“Eli has a keyboard we can borrow. Since dancing didn’t work out last night, we’ll try it when we’re all in one location.”

Maki fidgeted. “I’m not comfortable with…”

“Eli’s been careful. Nico has windows.”

Maki shut off the screen. “There’s so many variables. And no way to know if anyone’s been exposed.” Maki rubbed her forehead. “This was the easiest part, wasn’t it.”

Turns out Nico had a not smiley tone. “Not for Nico.”

“Sorry. I guess it got pretty rough”

“It was. Don’t catch it.”

“You seem so much better. I’m glad. ” Maki smiled, reaching for her bowl, put the dish towel in it, “I’m going to make coffee. Want some?”

“Sounds good. And then we have to decide on tonight’s songs.”

“I’m tired of themes.” Maki announced as she left the room.

“Well, then talk to your cute, pushy friend who texts Nico 100 times a day about them.”

“I think I lost her number.”

Nico snorted and hurried Maki down the hall.

##

“Are we moving Café Quarantine to Brazil” Nico sounded exasperated. “If you really want to play this “Desafinado” tune, Nico’s choice doesn’t really go. What’s the title mean?”

“Out of tune.” Maki completely concentrated on her piano, hoping Nico’s questions would end there. She didn’t really want a discussion of lyrics.

“Nico is not out of tune.”

“That’s not what…” Maki played several chords, “Anyway, I’m going to play the instrumental, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“But Nico wants to keep the mood,” Nico was flopped on her stomach on the couch, staring at Maki, “It’s a good mood. Nico likes it, but Nico knows Brazilian coffee not this…why are you in this mood?”

“Samba smooth...it makes me smile.” Maki stopped playing, staring at Nico. ”Might work really well for you too, the melody’s playful, simple, I’d be doing most of the work…”

“The accompanist underestimates the amount of personality Nico adds.”

Trust me I don’t, Maki thought, but she rolled her eyes at Nico

“There’s a few more I’ve been practicing...I could print out lyrics for you…” Maki paused, “It would be a challenge to learn it before tonight.”

“Not for Nico.”

Maki chuckled, “Give me 5 minutes.”

Nico flipped, laying on her back, “Then you’ll have to keep up with Nico. You’re used to Not Well Nico. Full speed Nico is going to knock you out.”

Maki could only hope for a soft landing.

###

Maki had played “Desafinado”, with Nico fidgeting and gleaming like she was up to something. As soon as Maki was finished, Nico was in front of the camera, applauding madly.

“Maki’s just the best, right. Nico’s been so lucky to have in house music like this while she was healing. Nico’s been spoiled.”

Maki watched suspiciously as Nico continued to bounce. They were supposed to go right into the duet but Maki got the feeling improvisation was about to happen.

“Mak’s obviously been missing coffee and Nico so she’s been playing all these bossa nova songs for her beautiful boss”

Maki snorted.

“But Nico’s about to head home,” Nico paused, “Don’t worry Café Quarantine will continue, Nico would miss it too much, and Nico doesn’t want anyone coughing like…” Nico’s energy dipped for a moment, then Nico recovered, “But we’re all going to take care of each other and be fine, Nico insists.”

“Can I start playing?” Maki drawled.

Nico turned and GLARED, “Nico is giving a pep talk.”

Eye roll.

“Maki’s nicer than she pretends.” Nico announced to the camera, “but you’ve been watching her play, you know that.”

“Nico.”

“Since our piano genius has been in a Rio mood, Nico recorded Maki playing this song and will now add words.”

The intro to "Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars" began and Nico sang with a gentle longing that surprised Maki, who would have loudly disagreed that Nico knew anything about quiet anything.

Quiet nights of quiet stars Quiet chords from my guitar Floating on the silence that surrounds us

Quiet thoughts and quiet dreams Quiet walks by quiet streams…

### Maki wanted to just sit and inhale the mood in the room after the last note, the quiet, calm, the connection, but of course, it didn’t last for long. “And now we have one more song for tonight.” With a wink and her soon to be patented not quite devil horns gesture, Nico tossed the audience back to Maki, which caused Maki to fumble for a minute. She’d been sitting, caught up in this rare glimpse of reserved Nico.

But now she had to focus, roll her shoulders down, dash into the first verse Someone to hold me tight That would be very nice Someone to love me right That would be very nice Someone to understand Each little dream in me Someone to take my hand And be a team with me

And then Nico joined in. So nice, life would be so nice If one day I'd find Someone who would take my hand And samba through life with me

And Maki dropped out, the rhythm making her think that perhaps she should be dancing with Nico rather than the piano. This song seemed to cry out for more responsiveness than resonance. Someone to cling to me Stay with me right or wrong Someone to sing to me Some little samba song Someone to take my heart And give her heart to me Someone who's ready to Give love a start with me Oh yeah, that would be so nice I could see you and me, that would be nice

What the hell Maki thought, stood up and offered her hand to Nico. So nice, life would be so nice If one day I'd find Someone who would take my hand And samba through life with me

Nico was a sure, steady dancer, obviously hearing the song in her head as she and Maki stepped quickly around the music room, laughing. Nico slowed down when they passed in front of the camera.

“I think we’re sambaing down to Rio. Good night!”And Nico stopped recording without really interrupting the flow of their dance.

“It’s too bad you didn’t listen to Nico’s ‘wear a bikini for the full Brazilian effect’ suggestion.” Nico smirked.

Maki started to stiffen, but just kept moving to the music in her head. She didn’t really need to answer Nico, did she?

“So can we start the ‘Kiss’ theme week tomorrow?” Nico had pulled Maki closer. “Both your pushy friends keep telling me it’s the only thing to do next.”

“Are they?”

Nico nodded.

“They are pushy.”

“But cute. And Nico doesn’t really mind.” A hesitation, Nico was glowing, Maki suddenly wanted a room full of candles and a pianist sensitive to the mood ready to slide easily into the next song. It was so easy with music, to build the mood, to know the next note, the next step, the next song. “Do you?”

Had Maki dropped out of the conversation again. “Do I what?”

“Mind if it’s Kiss?”

“You don’t mean the band, right? Hanayo’s a little too fond of metal for me. But Rin just headbangs along.”

Nico stopped. “You’re terrible at mood. How do you play the piano so well?”

Maki shrugged.

Nico almost threw up her arms, but Maki caught them and pulled Nico closer, “I don’t mind.”

No candles, no music, no warning, but Maki suddenly knew what was next. And Nico was just close enough, just looking up enough, deep banked embers glowing in her eyes just inviting enough. Maki blanked, and then Nico was a blurry warmth, close enough that Maki could feel the smoothness of a cheek, and Maki was going in for a second kiss before she even noticed the first.

A/N: There will be a brief epilogue.

And @auyeahaugust is almost finished. Thanks again for the inspiration. And now to get back to my fics in progress. 

[angelicspaceprince]

Dewey x Crafter Reader Headcanons

Ive fallen down a rabbit hole of crafting and I can't get up. Help me. I write hcs to help save my soul

I'll also edit when I have computer access so then there is a read more button or whatever they're called, I can't find it on mobile

Wrote directly onto the tumblr app so if there are any mistakes that's why. No betas, we die by our spelling and grammar mistakes here

You were a crafter before you met Dewey, having taken up most crafts by the time you were 17

Sewing, needlepoint, embroidery, cross stitch, knitting, crocheting

You'd experimented with them all and even though each one had its merits, you definitely had your favourites

Then life happened. You had to start working, unable to attend college, and soon you had no time to craft. If you were awake, you were working

Mostly low paying jobs to cover rent, bills etc, taking on as many shifts as possible

It was actually during one of your shifts you met Dewey

You started working at a local music shop, mostly serving and organising CDs when a very excited Dewey rocked up, wanting to find the newest release for one of his favourite bands

You got to talking and realised that you had similar music tastes and, even though you really wanted to get to know him more, you had to remain professional. You were still on the clock

Luckily for you, however, you were invited to go see a group of local bands performing to celebrate your friend's birthday

You recognized Dewey the moment he stepped on stage and was in awe at his musical skill

You figured it'd be weird to go up to him and start talking because a) if he didn't recognize you then having a stranger come up to you and say that you remembered him from work would be odd and b) if he DID recognize you from work that'd be even odder

You didn't want to give off stalker vibes, so you stayed at the bar, content just to leave it

Dewey, however, saw you in the crowd and had a different plan in mind

Still riding the adrenaline high from being on stage, he walked straight up to you

"I don't know if you remember me, bu-"

"I remember you."

"Oh."

You both blushed heavily as you shift in your seat. "Drink?" You offered. "I....I liked talking to you earlier, I'd like to talk some more."

Dewey positively beamed at that, sitting down next to you as you effectively start ignoring your friend's birthday party celebrations in favour of talking to the man in front of you

The rest, as they say, was history

You ended up dating pretty quickly after you first met, moving in with each other after only dating for 6 months

It was an accident, you had your power cut off (again) and it was the middle of winter. Dewey offered you a warm place to stay temporarily and after 4 weeks of looking for a new apartment, he just said "you're already living here, just move in with me."

It made things easier, now there were two people contributing to bills

Rent was never paid in full, but something was always sent in

Patty wasn't impressed by that but Ned wasn't as fussed, just happy to have something coming in

It helped that he really liked you and felt that you were a good fit for Dewey

Even though things still remained tough, you were happy just to have a roof over your head and someone who loved you

When Dewey started working for Horace Green, things became easier

Bills were paid with his paycheck, yours became groceries and fuel money

Even then, for the first time in a long time, you had spare cash

Most went into savings but being able to afford your own Netflix account? Felt amazing

Despite having a bit of extra money, some habits were hard to break.

You rarely bought clothing from anywhere but thrift stores and Walmart, Dewey prefering Walmart but essentially doing the same thing

Unfortunately, that meant the clothing you had bought wasn't always the best of quaility, especially when Dewey was the one wearing it

Just the nature of his jumpy, clutzy, accident prone and slightly messy self meant you were constantly buying him new shirts and mending his sweater vests

To be honest, it was getting old

You'd also been missing crafting for a while so. Two birds, one stone

The next time you were in Walmart alone, you grabbed yarn and knitting needles and on the few days a week you were home alone, slowly you started to knit him some new sweater vests, using an old one that was beyond repair as the template to make sure each one fit

The first one was just a plain, fadded red to get yourself back into practice before slowly beginning to add simple designs similar to the few he owned now

Then a couple of weird themed ones, a couple of his favourite bands, one with music notes in the design, one that was birthday themed, one with mini guitars, whatever amused you and you thought would amuse him, you knitted onto the sweater

Each vest took three weeks to make. By the time his birthday came around, you had made him ten new vests, having kept it a secret the entire time

You were super nervous when he opened up his present, but the giant smile on his face was worth it, excited with the concert tickets you managed to get for the two of you (in the pit, of course) and with each new sweater, he got more and more excited

"These are amazing babe! Where did you get them?" He asked as he got up to try his favourite (the one with a replica of his Gibson knitted around the bottom) on

You go quiet. "I....uh.....I made them."

He looked over at you like you just admitted you had found a cure for cancer

You'd neglected to tell him of your crafting past, it never came up so you never said

Now, however, he was keen to see you craft

He never even dared to try it out for himself, but enjoyed watching you knit or crochet without looking at your work, watching TV or chatting to Dewey as you just continued to work

Every year, he got at least two sweaters from you, and you made sure to knit a sensible one and a silly one

What amazed you was the fact that Dewey seemed to have fewer accidents

He took extra special care of all of the stuff you make him, never spilling so much as a drop of coffee on them and tried his best not to get them snagged on the one sharp part of the doorway into his office

One day he came home, nearly in tears

You were folding up laundry but you dropped everything and came rushing over, thinking the absolute worst but instead he simply pushed something into your hands and said "I'm so sorry"

Turns out, he took off his vest when he came in to play a song with the kindergartners, something he now does daily as part of his role as music teacher

He didn't notice one of the kids grabbing it and wandering off with it

It was covered in paint, one of the Gibsons were cut out and the yarn was beginning to unravel, despite clear attempts to keep it from doing so

It was ruined

You hush Dewey as you pull him close and reassure him it's ok, you can make him another one

It took a while to settle him, he treasured everything you made him and he allowed one to get ruined

But once you assured him it was fine and you knew it was an accident, you ended up spooning in the couch as you mentally start planning the new sweater

A month passed when he found a wrapped up parcel on his desk

He was running late, didn't have time to grab a coffee and accidentally grabbed his vest with a massive hole in the back rather than one of your handcrafted ones

Still, he made it to the classroom before any students arrived, so he quickly opened it up and a huge smile plastered its way onto his face

A new sweater vest that was near identicle to his ruined one, a bit cleaner and better designed than the old one

You'd also made him a pair of socks, something you'd been experimenting with, with the AC/DC logos on the side

He found the note at the bottom 'Hope you have a good day. I love you. Y/N. P.S. These are not allowed near the kindergartners ❤'

He quickly changed into the sweater, feeling so much better than he did 5 minutes ago

The socks became his lucky socks and he'd wear them to his gigs, stating that it was like you were up there with him

He shushed you when you pointed out that it meant he was technically stepping on you, telling you "you know what I mean" before giving you a kiss

He'd give you requests for scarves, beanies, the lot. Socks were for bed or performances only, apparently, but everything else was worn whenever

You even made beanies and scarves for members of the band who wanted them, each having the School of Rock logo on it plus the kid's name

Dewey loves wearing and telling everyone about the stuff you make because he thinks it's absolutely incredible you're able to create something like this

And he treasures everything you make him

Most importantly, he's there to listen when you rant that the yarn isn't working like it should, or just about crafting problems in general, and be an ear as you problem solve an issue and is there to celebrate the victories when it finally works

Gets really good at yarn shopping too, picks up the brands you prefer and learns to read the packaging labels

Just

He loves the fact you can create something just like he can

[thewritingcaptain]

Pepperony Pizza: Part 1

“I’m just glad to hear anything, Potts. Especially your voice again.” He stopped, sighing again. Pepper looked at him again, her brows drawing together. “What?”

Notes: Yeah, okay, totally unnecessary to title this that, but I’ve been wanting to, like, since I joined the fandom. It’s just to punny to pass up. Sue me.

Also, notice, this says it’s parts, not chapters, because this isn’t a coherent story so much as a series of oneshots about them. In canon, out of canon, random, fluffy, and yeah, a good chunk of the time, likely smutty. So. You’ve been warned ahead of time. 

As always, let me know if anyone wants to be on the taglist, and enjoy!

(WARNING: Talk about trauma, to some extent, and smutty near the end. Post-IM1/AUy.)

The days almost seemed… longer.

It was odd. You’d think, spending three months imprisoned in a cave… well, every day seemed to last a week, and you would think it couldn’t get much longer than that.

Yet it had been mere days since he’d arrived home - only three - and the days had seemed to last… forever. Maybe it was just a combination of constantly being tired and sore and feeling a bit like a cranky child when he had to be in public for too long, or maybe it had more to do with his newfound appreciation for life. It was hard to tell. 

After his press conference the first day, he’d gone home, and he hadn’t left the house since. But he’d had a dozen or so visitors over the course of the past few days, and at least double that in phone calls. A lot of them he’d forced on to Pepper, who had thankfully taken it like a champ. 

Pepper. That woman had to be his savior. Not just because of her help since he’d gotten home, but in general. She’d run his life for him for the past… oh, upwards of five years at least, but his brain was still rather muddled, so give or take a few years. And she’d dealt with all his bullshit, his attitude, his responsibilities, and never said a word about it, except for rare occasions where he really deserved it. 

Hell, he’d never even given her a raise. He should do that. He should double her current salary. 

But more than what she did at home, she was what he had held on to those three months in the cave. When Yinsen has asked him if he had any family, he had to tell him nothing, because he truly had nothing. They weren’t really family; they were barely even friends, probably, as far as she was concerned. But she was all he thought about when he’d been asked that. She was all he had, all he really wanted to come back to. 

And when he’d stepped off that plane… it took everything he had not to run to her. It helped that it had been taking everything he had to stay upright at the time, or he just might have, willpower or no. But if she had responded to his sarcasm with anything but, he probably would have returned it in earnest. Hell, it had been three months. She had a right to feel however she wanted, to leave if she wanted to, but she hadn’t. She was still there. 

And he was happy about that. Even if he was exasperated at her fussing over him like he was an invalid or a child incapable of making his own decisions. 

Which explained why he was currently being checked out by a doctor who had set up shop in the middle of his living room, despite his protests that he had no need for it, and she was sitting in the chair across from him, looking oddly smug. 

He’d tried to resist for the first few minutes when the doctor had shown up, but in the end, he really did need treatment for some of his injuries. So he let him work on him with few protests. The only thing he did refuse was the cast he wanted to put his arm in and the IV fluids he wanted to pump into him. He was perfectly capable of rehydrating himself, and he’d be damned if they were going to cast a muscle issue just so he couldn’t use the arm. The sling would do fine when he wasn’t busy.

When the doctor finally left, Pepper was still sitting in the chair there, although her attention had long since moved on from focusing solely on him. Her long red hair was clipped - rather haphazardly, for as put together as she normally was - back out of her face, and while she was wearing her normal business attire, she hadn’t been bothered to do her makeup, either, and she wasn’t wearing heels with her ensemble like she normally did. She was still Pepper - still uber professional, still caring, still sassy and somewhat overbearing - but she also looked altogether more… normal. Human. Vulnerable.

Despite the witty banter they had going on, he - and everyone else really - knew that his disappearance had been hard on her. Even if she only thought of him as a boss, he’d been her entire life for several years, and him up and disappearing was more than enough to upset the fragile balance she managed to maintain between her life and his. For someone as hyper-scheduled and organized as Pepper, that in itself was enough to upset her.

He studied her as she worked, moving between a tablet and her notebooks, writing things down occasionally, but mostly scanning, chewing on the pen absentmindedly. 

He sighed heavily, shifting a bit and letting out a small, pained groan. Her head shot up immediately. “Mr. Stark?”

“I told you not to call me that anymore.” He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath to manage the pain before opening them again. “And I’m fine. Although I’ll have you know I wasn’t half as sore until you brought that monster in here to poke and prod me.” He mock-scowled at her. “I should fire you. For… for misuse of company funds, and for doing everything else I directly told you not to do.” 

Pepper raised an eyebrow at him. He could see the bemusement twinkling in her eyes, even if she tried to hide it with the pen by pressing it against her lips to smush down the little grin. “Tony, if you want a reason to fire me, go ahead. But we both know you couldn’t survive without me, especially right now.” She cocked her head at him. “And if you’re going to use money as an excuse to fire me, you’ve got way more ammo than you think.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow back at her. This was news to him. “Is that so?”

“The doctor coming here is hardly the only thing I’ve done without asking you in the past few months. It's only fair to tell you that I continued to receive a salary from you even though you weren’t here, and… well.” She shrugged. “Things had to be kept running somehow, the same way I had to live somehow.”

Tony just laughed, then winced a bit. Laughing aggravated his ribs and all the injuries to his diaphragm, but it felt good to do it again, regardless. “I’m glad to hear it. Someone had to take charge around here.” He shrugged. “And it’s not as if you didn’t deserve it.” 

Her cheeks flushed with color, and she looked down. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m just glad to hear anything, Potts. Especially your voice again.” He stopped, sighing again. 

Pepper looked at him again, her brows drawing together. “What?”

Tony just shrugged. He closed his eyes. “Would you do anything I asked you to, Pepper?” 

She stared at him for a moment, chewing her lip. She would never get used to hearing him say her name. He had always just called her Miss Potts. She wasn’t sure if she liked this new, informal version of Tony better or not. Especially when he asked her questions like that. “What?” she repeated, her voice wavering a little.

Tony tore his eyes from the ceiling to look at her again, meeting her eyes. He had such pretty brown eyes, like melted chocolate. And in the dim light… she shook the thoughts away. Get a grip. “Well?” he asked, quietly. “Would you?” 

“Tony, I…” Pepper hesitated. He didn’t normally ask questions like this. “Of course I would.”

“But would you, really? What if I asked you to do something you didn’t agree with, or that you didn’t want to do?”

Pepper stared at him for a moment, unsure. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted, lowering her voice to match his. “It would depend on what you asked me to do and why.” 

Tony nodded thoughtfully, looking away again. “So, you wouldn’t let me force you to do something, then? You wouldn’t feel like you had to listen to me, or else?”

“Is there an “or else” I should be afraid of, Tony?” 

He looked back at her, clearly still lost in thought. “No. Not from me. Not anymore.” Not that he thought he’d really have fired her for refusing to do almost anything before, but he definitely couldn’t bring himself to do it now. 

She nodded, just once, then looked away again. “Why? Was there something you wanted me to do?” 

Tony just looked at her. Once upon a time he might have seen that as an invitation for an innuendo, but now… “Can I be honest with you about something?” She stared at him and nodded, bewildered but listening. “I…” he stopped and swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to get emotional, nor push her into anything. He’d just given up on hiding how he felt. “I’m sorry if this is...odd, and I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. I just…” he looked at her, those brown eyes soft and sad in the dim light. “Can I hold you?” 

Her mouth opened and closed a few times in surprise. That was definitely not what she’d expected to hear. A lewd joke, maybe, but not… that. She didn’t know what to say. 

There was only one answer, it seemed. She got up, moving over to him, and settling as close to him as she dared. He held his good arm out, and she leaned against him, burying her face in his side and closing her eyes. 

He dropped his arm around her, squeezing her as tight as he dared. “When I was in that cave, Pepper…” he closed his eyes, and she looked up at him, watching him. “You were my driving thought. I can’t lie to you, not anymore. I thought about how I had nothing but you and as time went on… I wanted nothing more than to come back to you.” He opened his eyes and looked down at her. She was watching him with watery eyes. “I owe you the truth, Pepper. I’ve wanted you so badly, for so long. And I’ve done everything I can to try to fill that void with something - someone - else. It’s worked about as well as you can see.” He stopped, his eyes searching her face. 

“And I know it’s wildly inappropriate and that you have no return on the interest. But I know you’re okay with it to an extent, or we wouldn’t have made it this long, and you wouldn’t be here. Literally here, next to me, but you also wouldn’t have waited for me, or put up with my shit for the past… however many years it’s been.” He sighed and stopped again, looking down. “I know, I just said… a lot. But honestly… I just need to know. How you feel. Because if it’s nothing, I'll never bring it up again. But if it’s not-...”

He barely finished what he was saying before she leaned forward and kissed him, gently, barely, once, then again, deeper, and again. His good hand came up and cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer. 

They kissed again, and again, for long minutes, the sweet passion building between them. Tony groaned against her mouth, pulling back after a long few minutes. “Pepper…” he leaned his forehead against hers. “God. I want…”

“I know.” Pepper cupped his cheek, staying close to him and feeling his heartbeat pulsing throughout his body. “But you’re not strong enough, not like you normally are. It won’t be what you want for your first time since coming back.” 

Tony looked down at her, kissing her forehead. “Sweet as that is, Pepper…” he ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her close. “I don’t really care about that sentiment right now. I want you. And if you can’t control yourself from taking me wildly, all the better, but…” he kissed her hairline again. “I only want you. I don’t need anything from you tonight except your naked body for me to taste and touch and…” he nuzzled her hair. “Honestly, I need to drive the night terrors away. Your screams will be more than satisfactory to do that without adding mine to the mix.” 

Pepper looked up at him, her eyes wide. This was escalating quickly, but… She suddenly knew he was completely serious, and it was terrifying and empowering. “I could just suck you off and send you right to sleep on a natural painkiller,” she offered, only half joking. What she said was true, but so was what he wanted. 

“Or you could just take off the blouse and that pencil skirt and bring yourself up to my level.” He raised an eyebrow at her. 

She stared at him for a minute, and he worried he’d overstepped and taken their back and forth too far. Then, “What did you want on your level? This?” She straddled his lap - carefully, not actually putting any weight on him - and leaned back a bit, unbuttoning her blouse slowly. 

Tony groaned, watching her. His bad arm was sore, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from shrugging off the sling and reaching up and palming her breasts through her bra. She groaned a little in return, her nipples hardening instantly. “Jesus, Pepper. I’ve been staring at these for years.” He squeezed her breasts, then ran his hands down her back, cupping her ass. “And this.” He squeezed her butt, cupping each cheek firmly. She squirmed in his grasp, her skirt riding up her thighs. 

He groaned again, the sight of the normally forbidden skin goading him on more. “Christ. Lay down.” He made to pushed her back on the couch in front of him, but she stopped him. 

“I have a better idea.” She kissed him gently, once, ignoring his questioning look as she stood up, unbuttoning her skirt and letting it slide to the floor. She sent her blouse and blazer with it, leaving her in just a flesh tone bra and blue panties - oddly, a color that made her eyes pop - as she climbed back onto him. 

This time, however, she didn’t sit back down, but indeed lifted herself up to his level, leaning over him, bracing her arms on the back of the couch. “Better?” she asked, half teasing as she kissed him again gently. 

“Yes,” he murmured back, completely serious himself. He cocked his head at her. “Except for the panties. The bra can stay, I suppose, but… those have to go.” He raised a brow. “Get rid of them.”

“Oh, but I thought you’d like to do the honors?” She moved a little closer to him, swinging her hips right into his reach. 

He shrugged, running his hands up her legs. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, sounding so much like his normal, cocky self in that moment that she had to smile. Then he peeled her panties down her hips, and the moment was forgotten as his eyes latched into the patch of hair between her thighs. “Good Lord, Potts.” His voice was suddenly huskier than he remembered it being even a moment ago. “If I’d known how far your perfection spread… I probably would have tried to order you into bed with me years ago.” 

Pepper just laughed softly, already sounding breathless. “Tried being the keyword, Stark.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s impolite to stare, you know.” 

“Oh, I’m going to stare, Potts. Give me a minute to get my fill.” He lifted his head, pulling her hips closer, resting his forehead against her hip. “If you don’t pull away right now, I’m going to touch you.” He glanced up at her, waiting for some kind of sudden rebuttal to how far they’d gotten. He hadn’t expected it to take this turn, but he wasn’t disappointed either. 

“Do it if you dare, Stark.” Her voice was huskier than she expected. 

“Challenge accepted, Potts.” He kissed her hip, nipping at it, then kissed across her waist to do the same to the other. “I’m going to need you to spread more, Pep.” 

The pet name alone sent a shiver down her spine. She readjusted her stance some, spreading her legs wide for him and leaning heavily against the back of the couch. 

“Better.” His voice was husky now too, and his long fingers grasped her hips, pulling her the last bit of distance toward him. 

She gasped softly at the feeling as soon as his mouth brushed against her slit. He kissed right above it, then down it, back up, then did the same thing with his tongue. She couldn’t contain a soft whimper. He hummed softly, the sound only egging him on to dive deeper into her sensitive flesh. He slid his tongue into her folds, up on side, down the other, starting a wet circuit around them and never once hitting her clit. 

“God, Tony…” her hips bucked against his mouth, almost of their own accord. This was the last place she’d expected to end up tonight, but it only made the whole situation all the hotter. 

“Hold still,” was his only response, a gentle warning, before returning to his ministrations, running his hands down her legs as he tugged at each fold in turn with his teeth, then moved down, his tongue tasting at her entrance. She hissed through her teeth and then groaned as she felt him press his tongue into her, giving her hips gentle tugs to both force it deeper and make her massage it inside of her. 

She panted softly, trying to heed his words and not move like he’d asked, but she couldn’t seem to hold still. She rolled her hips against his mouth, closing her eyes. He hadn’t even touched her clit, and her legs were trembling around his face. “Tony-“ She stopped, letting out an almost pained groan and tilting her head back. She wanted to grab his hair, force him to move on, but she didn’t trust herself to stay up if she let go of the back of the couch, and knowing Tony, he might actually stop if she tried to push him. “Please move on.”

He pulled back, glancing up at her through heavily lidded as eyes she panted above him. “Are you going to beg, Pepper?” 

She swallowed thickly, feeling the subtle shift of his body, his fingertips creeping up her inner thigh. “If that’s-oh!” He pressed a finger into her, just one, starting to stroke the inside of her walls. “Good Lord, Tony, if that’s what you want, then yes!” 

“It’s not a requirement,” he answered, almost absentmindedly, focusing on what he was doing to her more than anything. “But I suppose I could give you a little something in return if you did.” 

He pressed a second finger into her, stroking her walls, and she knew he was searching for that spot that would make her scream without abandon. As it was, the feeling was enough to make her legs tremble and her eyes go unfocused. “Tony! Jesus… I’ll beg for whatever you want, but please! It’s so…intense...” she arched her back as best she could, panting slightly. 

“Just like that is fine.” He couldn’t hide his bemusement, half-distracted as he rather was. Normally, he might have made her beg more, might have dragged this out as long as possible, but it had been so long, and it was Pepper, and he just couldn’t. He’d wanted to do this for so long that he couldn’t make himself do anything the way he might have before, because he didn’t want this to be like before. He wanted it to be different. He wanted her, and not just for tonight. 

That thought in mind, he leaned forward again, showering her thighs with light kisses and nips before finally leaning back in and nipping at her clit lightly. She let out an incomprehensible cry, and he leaned forward, drawing it into his mouth and sucking at it, finally letting his fingers brush that spot on her upper wall. She cried out and jolted so hard that he had to readjust his grip on her hip and lean forward slightly to maintain what he was doing. 

“Tony...oh… please, please… that’s so… too much…” She wasn’t even sure what she was saying anymore, only that she was barely holding herself up for how hard she was shaking and definitely wasn’t able to hold herself still anymore. 

He just hummed into her skin, unable to answer and unwilling to pull back to do so. He could feel how close she was, could taste it in her arousal. On another night, with someone else, he might have stopped, might have teased and made them beg more, but even as the thought occurred, he dismissed it almost as quick. He knew he couldn’t - not now, not with her. So he just continued his steady rhythm, pumping and stroking his fingers in her and sucking her clit, letting his tongue tease it just enough-

She gave a loud cry and almost yelled something he could have sworn was an expletive, but was too caught up in her to fully catch as she came against his mouth, her body collapsing into his lap, unable to hold herself up anymore. Tony just grunted and winced slightly, but did his best to cover the pain as he could, cradling her against his chest and stroking his fingers through her hair gently as she laid against him, still panting and twitching with aftershocks of the pleasure. 

Slowly, she came back to. She looked up at him and was surprised to find him watching her with those dark eyes, something like affection glowing in them. He smiled down at her, watching her closely. She could sense him searching for some bit of anger or regret of what had just happened, but he wouldn’t find any. She leaned up and kissed him gently instead. 

He hummed into her mouth, the hand in her hair pulling her closer again, kissing her again until she desperately needed air. She pulled back then, sucking in deep breaths, watching him as he tilted his head back over the back of the couch and closed his eyes, clearly also trying to regulate his breathing. She smiled at the sight and leaned in, pressing a few soft kisses to his neck. He let out a low rumble of approval, his hands lazily running up and down her back.

He was able to relax for half a second before he felt her fingers fumbling at his belt and sighed, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “Pepper…”

“If you try to tell me right now that I don’t have to-“

“You don’t.” He lifted his head, looking at her again with dark, serious eyes. “You didn’t have to do any of that. I want to do this right, Pepper. Maybe we should wait.”

She sighed, putting a hand on his cheek. “Tony. Please. If you really don’t want me to, I won’t. But I want this too, okay? And I want you inside me. Now.” She somehow managed to sound pleading and demanding at the same time. 

He groaned a little, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even have any condoms, Pepper.” Why she’d decided to do this now, of all times, he couldn’t fathom, but he couldn’t handle the way she was looking at him, and he could feel her hands hovering just above his groin, and it was too much. 

“You don’t need any.” 

Tony frowned a bit. He hadn’t pinned her for someone who’d be willing to be so… well, irresponsible. It seemed out of character for her. “Of course we need-“

“No, Tony.” She shook her head, cutting him off. “I’m on birth control. You don’t really think I could have handled working for you for so long if I was PMSing every few weeks, do you?” 

“Oh.” He swallowed thickly. Under normal circumstances, he might have made a joke, but right now, with her sitting on his lap and looking at him like that, those blue eyes wide and earnest, he couldn’t find it in himself. “Alright, then.” He has no logical reason to say no, and he didn’t really want to, aside from his worry that this was all heat-of-the-moment and she’d regret it in the morning. But there would be no reasoning with her anyway even if it was, and he couldn’t deny how long he’d wanted this. So he just released her wrists and leaned back. “But you’ll have to control it. I don’t think I can.” He hated his weakness, but he knew it wasn’t possible.

“I think I can handle that.” She kissed his cheek and pulled his belt free, tossing it down on the couch. 

Maybe she could, but he wasn’t sure he could. This would be a first for sure. He draped his arms over the back of the couch and let his head fall back again, feeling her undo his button and fly and finally reach in to pull him free. He groaned at the feeling of her hand, petite but firm, wrapping around his hard cock. Then she started pumping him, and he hissed through gritted teeth, his back nearly arching off the couch even as he grabbed her wrist. “Christ! Pepper that’s not what we agreed on,” he hissed in one breath, squeezing his eyes closed. 

He could almost hear her pout as she murmured, “Fine. But if you think I won’t get you back…” 

The rest of whatever she was going to say was lost as she shifted to be above him and sank onto him slowly. He groaned, his hands tightening on the back of the couch. “Holy shit, Potts.” He threw his head back, screwing his eyes closed. “Dear God, I hope you do, but right now…” He couldn’t finish.

It was far from the first time she’d heard him curse, but definitely close to being one of the hottest. “Move?” she suggested, leaning forward, her hands resting on his shoulders as she started to move her hips against his. 

“Yesss,” he hissed, arching again under her and trying to meet her thrusts as best as he could in his position. “That’ll do.” 

So she did, and he groaned again, tilting his head back and moving against her the best he could. It had been over three months and damn it if he wasn’t trying to shake these urges in him in favor of finding what really mattered but he knew inside that that was Pepper, or at least that it could be and that he wanted it to be desperately. So he gave her everything he could in his state, pulling her close and kissing her deeply and desperately as they moved in rhythm.

When she started to get close again, she turned her head away from his mouth and pressed her face into his shoulder, panting hard and letting out low whimpers and groans, her hips redoubling their movements against his at a resounding speed. He groaned, pulling her close as he could and hiding his face in her hair. He was getting there himself, and he could not be happier about how it felt, about the fact that he was buried deep inside her and about to come with her around him and she had not only not stopped him but was going to come with him. 

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he let his own drop and wrap around her, pulling her close as he groaned into her hair. “Fuck, Potts…” She was wrapped around him completely, trembling and making all those hot sounds into his neck as she rode him. He kept one hand on her back, panting and closing his eyes as the other travelled down and around her body…

“Shit! Tony!” Pepper cried, her grip tightening on him as his hand slid right down to right above their coupled sexes and started rubbing her clit firmly. “God, I…”

He threw his head back. Hearing Pepper of all people curse was almost enough to do him in right there. “I know, Pepper. Fuck.” He brought his other hand to tilt her head up, bringing her face to his and kissing her deeply again. “Come, Pep. Come on,” he murmured against her mouth, and the shudder and cry he got in response, the way she cinched down on him as she released again, was enough to do him in a moment later. 

This time he was too out of his own senses to really notice her going limp and shuddering against him. All he really knew was when he started to come back around, she was a weight on his chest and lap, clinging to him and panting softly again. 

He slid his arms back around her, kissing her hair gently, and for a while they didn’t say anything. He couldn’t even make a smart comment like he normally might have, for fear of ruining the moment. So instead he just kept quiet and did what he’d originally asked her to let him do. He just held her. 

After a little while had passed, Pepper shifted, looking up at him. He blinked down at her, surprised. He’d almost thought she’d dozed off. He was even more surprised when she spoke. 

“You’re… not going to fire me, are you?”

“What?” He stared down at her, mildly horrified. “Why would I fire you?” 

“Just…” she sighed. “Because you’re using me as a rebound. It’s obvious. And when it’s over-“

“It’s not going to be over. No rebound, nothing like that. Were you not listening to me?” He cupped her chin. “I’ve obsessing over you for years, Pepper, but what happened in that cave solidified for me that this is more than an obsession or pure lust. I want you. As mine. As a person and as a PA and as everything that comes with you. I’m not going to end this willingly and I’m certainly not going to fire you.” 

Her mouth opened and closed slowly. “Oh.” She stared at him, her eyes wide and… wet, if he wasn’t mistaken. “But you… I mean, you’ve never… really?”

Tony couldn’t keep a small smile from growing on his face. “Really. Christ, do you really think I would have hesitated so long if I didn’t mean it? I was so afraid to fuck it up. I still am afraid of fucking it up. But if you really feel the same…” He looked down at her. “I want to try, for real, with you. Please. We can… we can completely start over, if you want to, and this doesn’t have to happen again. Jesus, I shouldn’t have let it happen now, but-“

She leaned up and kissed him, effectively cutting off whatever else he was going to stutter out. Tony rambling was a rare sight to see, and it was oddly adorable, but his insecurity, on the other hand, was not. 

When she finally pulled back, he just stared down at her, looking unsure. “Pepper…”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “The past three months have been the worst of my life, Tony. I don’t need any more time to think about it than that.” 

Tony stared at her as that sunk in, and then his eyes widened, almost comically. “Oh. I see.” Then his expression softened a bit, and his arms tightened around her, almost imperceptibly. “Me, neither,” he said quietly. 

She smiled up at him, curling up tighter into his lap. Her head fell against his chest, and he automatically brought a hand up to comb through her hair as he held her close. It was quiet for a long few minutes again, and he simply reveled in holding her again. He could do this for hours. Days, even. 

They never made it quite that far, though. She looked up at him, eyes still glossy. “As comfy is this is… I’m kind of cold, and I’m pretty tired.” She met his eyes. “Can we go to bed?” 

Tony looked down at her, a fond smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. “My bed?” he asked, just to check. 

She quirked a brow at him. “No, mine,” she retorted, but she was clearly teasing. 

He just shrugged. “Whatever suits you, Miss Potts. So long as you don’t expect me to carry you. I can barely carry myself right now.” He sat up, with some effort, which only served to prove his point. 

Pepper laughed, kissing his cheek as she got up and gathered her clothes. “No. I can carry myself. Today, at least.” 

“Fair enough,” Tony agreed amicably. He fixed his clothes - leaving him in stark contrast to her, as she didn’t even bother to put any of hers back on - before getting up and letting her lead him down the hall to his room. The silence before he speaks again is brief but comfortable. “Pepper?” 

She glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

“Maybe we should…” He stopped, hissing a breath through his teeth. “Maybe we should… not do that again. For a while. I mean, I enjoyed it, and I hope you did too, but I… I really want to do this right. I don’t want to get comfortable and fuck it up. So if we could at least talk, perhaps, in the morning, when we’re both better rested and hopefully more clear headed-...”

“We’ll talk,” Pepper promised, smiling and giving his hand a gentle squeeze with the one that wasn’t holding her clothes in a bundle to her chest. “First thing in the morning. I promise.” 

“Great.” He didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse, but it was something, at least. 

They entered his room, and he hesitated at the foot of the bed, gesturing widely at it for her to pick a side. 

Picking a side is easy. Falling asleep in each other’s arms is even easier, even if it doesn’t entirely stave the nightmares away. But they work through that too. 

And if their talk in the morning resulted in him breaking the resolution to start fresh and abstain for a while until they can rebuild foundations they so clearly already have… well, no one ever needed to know but them. 

[krstoffcrs-a]

&&   .   announcing   his   royal   highness   ,      (      kristoffer   sønderburg      )   ,   the      (      34      )      year   old      (     crown   prince      )      of      (      norway      )   .   he   is   often   confused   with      (      paul   wesley      )   .    some   say   that   he   is      (      assertive      &      opinionated      )   ,   but   he   is   actually   (      adaparable      &      focused      )   .

TRRIGGERS   :   brief   mention   of   injury      &      hospitalisation   .

*      statistics      .

full   name   :      kristoffer      (      bearer   of   christ      )      ivar      (      yew   wood   ,   archer      )      sønderburg      (      royal   house   of   norway      )   .

nickname(s)   :     kris   ,   krissy   .

current   age   :      thirty   -   four   .

birthday   :      september   19th   .

gender   :      male   .

pronouns   :      he   /   him   .

zodiacs   :      virgo      (      sun      )      ,   aries      (      moon      )      ,   virgo      (      rising      )   .

family   :      lars      (      father      )      ,   kristen      (      mother      )      ,   silje      (      sister      )   ,   aurel      (      cousin      )   .

faceclaim   :      paul   wesley   .

ethnicity   :      caucasian   .

nationality   :      norwegian   .

height   :      5’11   .

weight   :      78kg   .

hair   :      light   brown      &      wavy   .

eyes   :     green   .

*      aesthetics      .

rainy   days   ,   to   -   do   -   lists   ,   the   ticking   of   a   clock   ,   white   linen   shirts   ,   beige   ,   handwritten   letters   ,   ice   cold   gazes   ,   bonfires   ,   coffee   stains   ,   frown   creases   ,   raised   eyebrows   ,   an   intense   stare   ,   high   expectations   ,   old   architecture   ,   the   breeze   rustling   your   hair   ,   the   calm   before   the   storm   ,   poorly   suppressing   your   opinions   ,   blood   is   thicker   than   water   ,   hidden   tattoos   ,   never   missing   an   opportunity   ,   an   alarm   clock   ,   the   lit   end   of   a   cigarette   .

*      past      .

            i   :      be   who   you   are      ⤿      first   born      &      soon   to   be   first   in   line      ;      the   birth   of   the   heir   to   the   throne   was   bound   to   be   a   cause   for   celebration   ,      &      his   was   one   the   crown   prince      &      his   wife   needed   .   not   only   was   the   child   of   the   future   monarchs   one   that   offered   them   security      &      reassurance   for   their   lineage   ,   but   he   was   also   the   son   they   asked   for   .   his   childhood   years   were   full   of   preparations   for   the   day   he   would   become   king      ;      he   was   given   lessons   in   politics      &      history   before   he   could   even   properly   define   the   words   ,   but   they   prepared   him   for   the   future   that   he’d   one   day   be   thrown   into   .

           ii   :      and   say   what   you   feel      ⤿      he   was   raised   to   be   honest      &       just      ;      to   be   decisive      &      loyal   to   his   country      &      his   people   .   although   his   parents   weren’t   necessarily   soft   in   nature   ,   they   reserved   a   different   demeanour   with   their   son   .   he   supposed   it   was   a   result   of   him   being   the   security   blanket   they   were   waiting   for   ,   which   he   was   only   even   more   positive   about   when   silje   was   born   .   the   difference   between   how   they   treated   him   ,      &      how   they   treated   his   sister   was   palpable   ,      &      as   a   result   he   decided   he   would   give   her   the   love      &      care   she   never   received   from   their   parents   .

          iii   :      because   those   who   mind   don’t   matter      ⤿     steadfast      &      determined   are   two   words   that   could   describe   the   prince   .   he   had   ,   without   doubt   ,   a   single   outlook   on   his   future      &      that   outlook   is   that   he   would   one   day   be   king   ,      &      he   wanted   to   become   worthy   of   it   .   but   with   that   desire   became   a   need   to   protect   himself   ,      &      as   a   result   he   carried   himself   with   a   fluidity      &      remoteness   that   gave   him   a   head   start   in   life   .   he   joined   the   armed   forces   as   was   tradition   for   the   royal   family   ,      &      gained   a   harder   exterior   as   a   result   .

        iv   :      and   those   who   matter   don’t   mind      ⤿     his   time   in   the   army   lasted   around   ten   years   .   within   that   time   ,   his   parents   were   crowned   the   new   king     &      queen   ,   before   he   sustained   a   life   -   threatening   injury   that   left   him   hospitalised   for   three   weeks   .   around   that   time   ,   the   king      &      queen   realised   how   dangerous   it   was   to   throw   their   heir   on   the   front   line      &      made   him   retire   .   still   ,   kris   left   the   army   with   one   lesson   learned      ;      that   you   should   never   give   in      &      never   hold   back   ,      &      he   carried   this   notion   for   the   rest   of   his   life   .   he   plunged   himself   into   his   royal   duties   ,   getting   back   into   preparing   for   the   day   he’d   be   crowned   king      &      not   holding   back   anything   for   anyone   ,   no   matter   the   cost   or   who   it   hurt   in   the   process   .

*      present      .

           *      it   is   better   to   be   hated   for   what   you   are   than   to   be   loved   for   what   you   are   not      ⤿      coming   into   the   protection   programme   is   something   kris   was   never   keen   on   ,   but   alas   here   he   is      &      he’d   definitely   would   much   rather   be   anywhere   else   ,   but   the   king      &      queen   wanted   their   heir   safe   so   they   shipped   him   off   .   he   probably   would   have   put   up   more   of   a   fight   if   it   weren’t   for   the   fact   that   he   wants   to   keep   an   eye   on   silje   .

*      personality      .

            i   :      adaptable      ⤿      kris   has   a   knack   for   being   able   to   control   his   demeanour      &      approach   to   different   situations   .   he’s   generally   very   good   at   reading   moods   of   people      &      atmosphere   ,   so   he   knows   how   to   present   himself      &      finds   it   easy   to   become   what   people   expect   him   to   be   whenever   he   needs   to   .   if   he   decided   to   ,   he   would   find   it   easy   to   mirror   other   people   to   make   them   feel   comfortable   ,   but   he’s   not   particularly   fond   of   that   idea   .

           ii   :      focused      ⤿      not   on   a   certain   thing   ,   but   on   a   certain   path   ,   kris   has   a   determination      &      strive   to   not   only   be   worthy   of   the   norwegian   crown   but   also   worthy   of   respect   from   his   people   .   he’s   constantly   working   at   being   better   ,   so   much   so   that   it   often   takes   over   everything   else      &      it’s   the   only   thing   that   matters   .   often   this   sort   of   outlook   can   make   him   look   aloof   ,   but   he   simply   just   doesn’t   have   the   energy   or   the   patience   to   be   sidetracked   .

          iii   :      conservative      ⤿      a   huge   believer   of   tradition      &      following   the   pattern   of   life   to   a   point   ,   kris   isn’t   fond   of   change      &      often   finds   himself   more   comfortable   in   situations   that   provide   him   with   the   opportunity   to   control   them   .   he   likes   to   know   what   sort   of   situation   he’s   facing   in   order   to   act   accordingly   ,   so   anything   unfamiliar   will   either   throw   him   completely   off   or   baffle   him   so   much   that   he   won’t   be   anywhere   near   the   problem   .

         iv   :      political      ⤿      politics   is   something   that   every   royal   ,   especially   heirs   are   acutely   aware   of      &      kris   is   no   different   .   he   was   raised   learning   about   politics      &      all   that   came   with   it   ,   which   has   resulted   in   him   being   very   throaty   in   his   opinions      &      also   very   argumentative   if   he   disagrees   with   something   .   he   believes   in   the   greater   good   of   the   people      &      has   been   getting   better   at   making   trade   deals   now   that   he’s   first   in   line   for   the   throne   .

         v   :      assertive      ⤿      his   position      &      place   in   the   line   of   succession   means   that   kris   has   no   problem   asserting   his   dominance      &      using   his   title   to   try   controlling   a   situation   ,   or   sometimes   even   people   .   he   likes   giving   orders      &      expects   them   to   be   fulfilled   the   way   he   wants   them   to   be   ,   but   he’s   in   no   way   as   bad   as   his   parents   .   his   assertiveness   is   only   used   whenever   he   feels   like   it’s   needed   ,   rather   than   when   he   wants   to   use   it   .

        vi   :      opinionated      ⤿      being   open      &      honest   is   a   lesson   he   learned   from   a   very   young   age   ,      &      as   he’s   grown   older   it’s   something   he’s   learned   will   get   him   further   than   any   other   tool   .   kris   will   voice   his   thoughts   no   matter   who   it   hurts      &      is   unabashedly   honest   about   everything   he   says   .   not   being   the   manipulative   sort   ,   you   never   have   to   worry   about   him   not   being   forthright   with   you   ,   even   if   you   don’t   like   what   he   says   .

[fitofpaige17]

nsfw clay/apollo/klavier hcs

HAHA OH FUCKING BOY LEMME JUST COPY STUFF FROM MY GOOGLE DOC

(Not all nsfw stuff. But I'm just pasting what ive already written AND adding some stuff off the top of my head lol)

Apollo:

The 'mom' of the group. Most responsible and logical one. Extremely emotional, cries at anything.

Can switch during sex, just depends on his mood. Doesn't even care sometimes and just loves seeing his boyfriends happy.

Although if he chooses who he would rather top, it would be Klavier. Because Klavier always speaks little praises to him that make his whole body blush.

He does love being bottom for Clay though. Clay is more gentle with him than he would be with Klavier. They've been best friends for years and Apollo appreciates that Clay knows how sensitive he can be, and respects it.

Klavier:

Is very giving, loves to spoil his boyfriends. Doesn't really show his emotions much, unless its professing his love.

Probably most affectionate when it comes to sex, but loves to be the center of attention. Fights Clay for dominance during their one on one romps, but really loves it when Clay tops.

When he and Clay first realized they got off on being rough with one another, Clay had thrown Klavier so hard onto the bed that he bounced off and slammed into the wall on the other side of the room.

He likes being dominant during foreplay, but would rather be ravished near the end.

 Is extremely gentle with Apollo, and will do whatever he wants him to. (Everyone is weak for Apollo honestly)

Clay:

A bit of a troublemaker, but deeply cares for others and would do anything to help someone in need. Isn't as emotional as Apollo, but cries a lot easier than Klavier.

Is very dominant when it comes to sex (though will do anything Apollo asks, without question) likes to be really rough with Klavier, but is also a big softie when the situation calls for it.

When he accidentally hurt Klavier the first time, he stopped everything to make sure he was okay and take care of him.

He won't admit it, but he loves being slapped around... except when he's ready to get off, then he wants to be in control.

The three of them work really well together in and outside of the bedroom.

Like I said already, Klavier and Clay are weak af for Apollo. He could literally ask them to do anything and they'll fucking do it.

Klavier and clay have left marks and dents in the walls and floor from their foreplay.

Only one of them have used their safeword (so far in my hc) I may write about it one day.

Safewords: Clay- Enterprise. Apollo- Serenade. Klavier- Glasses

Im constantly thinking up more stuff for Claypollier. I could talk about them all day. Thank you ❤

[jungshookz]

I rlly love librarian joon so much that ive been rereading it and i was wondering,,, maybe a drabble on how y/n gets a tutor for her philosophy (or any subject) class and they have lessons in the library and joon gets jealous esp when y/n tutor is obvioUSLY flirting with y/n but shes an oblivious walnut (we still love u y/n) and he gets kind of insecure that y/n doesnt ask him for help instead and constantly ditches him for tutoring lessons and overall just seems to have more fun with her tutor

→ pairing: kim namjoon x reader

→ genre: librarian!joonie is back!!!!, let me introduce you all to arthoe!taehyung, oblivious!y/n, fluffy times + lil bit of angst + tinY bit of smut u know how it be 

→ wordcount: 3.4k

(gif isn’t mine!)

namjoon usually doesn’t take things personally because he’s groWn and he has better things to fret over

but sweetie

he is FREttING over this very very hard

you decided to take up art history this semester and you didn’t want to sLip so you hooked yourself up with a tutor

you just came out of nowhere and you were like hey by the way i can’t hang out after class today because i have my first tutoring lesson and namjoon was like ?? do you have another philosophy exam or something

“nah i don’t have any more exams i’m just taking art history this year and i want to be ahead of everything and stuff”

wha-

namjoon thinks that he makes a pretty good tutor himself and he would totaLLY memorise 100 books worth of information so that he could teach you because that’S how much he cares for u

but of course he doesn’t think much of it because yeah it makes sense

art history isn’t namjoon’s specialty so obviously you would reach out to someone who’s actually learning the stuff

okay

whatever it’s fine

“okay! are we still going for dinner?”

“i’ll let you know but honestly probably not?? i’m behind on coursework and taehyung’s going to go over everything that i missed which is a lot!!! i’ll text you later dweeb” namjoon doesn’t even get the chance to respond before you’re leaning down to give him a quick peck and then you just yeEt out of the library

….taehyung

your tutor is a guy

which is fine!!!! totally fine

he’s just curious as to who this taehyung guy is

he’s not like a super jealous freak of a boyfriend it’s all good

namjoon purses his lips before shrugging to himself and bringing his attention back to his laptop

about 20 minutes pass and namjoon’s phone buzzes on the desk

‘we’re still on for dinner!!! i’ll meet u outside the library at 6’

hAh

see

nothing to worry about

hey

so

remember the thing namjoon said about having nothing to worry about

now he has something to worry about

it’s nearing 6:45 and you still haven’t shown up

namjoon sighs and leans against the front door

he could go back into the library but he already set up the alarm system for the night and he locked everything up

god it’s cold tonight

he shudders and wraps his coat tighter around himself

where are you??

and right on cue namjoon’s phone starts ringing in his pocket

he scrambles to unlock his phone and he brings it up to his ear

“y/n?”

“joon?? i’m so sorry!!!! i completely forgot about dinner i didn’t even know how quickly time was going by!!!”

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it!” namjoon clears his throat and musters a smile “i’ll see you tomorrow?”

it’s good that you’re taking your studying more seriously

yeah it kinda sucked standing out here in the cold for literally 45 minutes but u know what it’s greAt that you’re so passionate about learning new things now

“uh-huh! oh, i have to tell you aLL about taehyung he’s hilarious and he taught me so sO much and i didn’t even know studying could be this much fun! anyways i promise i’ll make it up to you-”

uh

UM

U M

what’s thAT supposed to mean

was studying philosophy with namjoon not fun???? he made like a shiTload of fancy flashcards and you seemed like you were having fun!!!

namjoon presses his lips together to keep himself from saying anything snarky even tho he really wants to

“i’m sorRy i’m sorry i’m soRRy i’M sorrryyyyryryryryyrryyr-“ you whine and slump in namjoon’s arms when he opens them up to give you a hug when you come in the next day

“it’s hard to hug you when you’re all floppy and boneless.” namjoon chuckles and you stand up straight before wrapping your arms around his neck loosely

you stand up on your tip-toes to give him a peck or two (or three or four or five) and namjoon hums contently

you should ditch him more often if it gets u to act like this (just kidding he didn’t like being ditched it was awful)

he has you sandwiched in between the book cart and himself and you’re not usually a PDA kinda gal but you can work with this

“do you forgive me?” you adjust his tie and namjoon leans down a little to sneak another kiss from you

“i haven’t decided yet.” namjoon jokes and you let out a small whine

“maybe if you take a quick break.,.. we can go into the backroom..,.,., i’m sure i can find other ways for you to forgive me.,,” you whistle and trace your finger along his chest and namjoon scoffs playfully before stepping aside and letting you out of the bookcart-namjoon sandwich

“i forgive you, don’t worry about it, hm? i’m sure it won’t happen again.”

“yes, you’re right! it won’t happen again. …and i wasn’t kidding about the backroom thing.”

“tempting, but… someone was being a little too loud in there last time.” namjoon pokes your nose before sliding a couple books onto the shelf and wheeling the cart back to the front counter

meanwhile you’re trailing behind him the whole time

“touché. you’re coming over to my place this weekend, right?”

“correct” namjoon opens the little gate to let himself behind the counter

“good!!! i made sure to fluff up your pillows anD i put the shirts and boxers that u left last time in the drawer”

“oh, i get my own drawer already?” namjoon teases and although you roll your eyes your cheeks are starting to heat up

ya he has his own drawer now so what it’s not a biG deal okAY

“ooh, by the way - do you think i can study here today?” you point over to the lounge area where your backpack is thrown haphazardly over the couch and your notes and pens are scattered everywhere

..classic

“the classroom that we usually go to is booked up.” you lean over the counter and give namjoon your cutest pout “and i already told taehyung to meet me here”

ah

right

taehyung

he still doesn’t know who the guy is

whoever he is he made you ditch dinner but namjoon isn’t biTTer or anyThing

namjoon rolls his eyes playfully “don’t look at me like that, you. of course you can study here! just make sure to keep it quiet and stuff since this is the library, after all”

hey

spoiler alert: namjoon agreeing to let you study here was a big fat MISTAKE

why do bad things happen to good people

in this case the bad thing is kim taehyung and the good person is namjoon in case that wasn’t already painfully obvious

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes when he hears another giggle slip past your lips

yes

he loves the sound of your giggle

but noT when it’s caused by kim taehyung

namjoon peeks over the top of his book to look over at you two again

what even is he wearing

are those shoes from guCCI

he has dad-looking square framed silver glasses which look a loT lamer than namjoon’s thick-framed glasses in his humble opinion

and he’s wearing a dangly earring but it’s only in one ear like if ur going to wear dangly earrings u might as well wear them in both ears

and he’s wearing a beret???? this is the LIBRARY this is not PARIS

cE N’EST PAS PARIS

taehyung leans forward and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before grabbing the leg of your chair and pulling you closer as you continue to babble on about something

meanwhile namjoon’s just sitting behind the counter gawking at the two of you

what is happening????? what the hell is this??????

“now, lift your hand.” taehyung’s baritone voice is suddenly all namjoon can focus on

jesus

his voice is like.,.,. smooth dark chocolate.,.,,. warm honey.,,.,.,.smokey,.., bbq sauce?,.., the point is namjoon sounds like a frog going through puberty compared to taehyung

namjoon is very obviously staring at the two of you now he’s not even going to try and hide it

“-the elegantly, loosely held hands from da vinci probably represent the most exquisite drawing of hands in the history of art…” taehyung hums and presses his hands against yours before loosely intertwining his fingers with yours “every detail of the long fingers and the beautifully modulated shading produces a convincing effect of reality so that one can almost know the person from her hands…” he pulls away and traces his finger from the tip of your middle finger down to your wrist

hausdhKJSHFJKHDS

is that allOWED ??? is that alloweD????????

namjoon is noT going to let this.,.., this.,,.,., ART HOE steaL you from him

and that’s when the lightbulb appears above his head

art history can’t be thAt hard to master…right?  

long ass story short: namjoon spends the entire night going through your syllabus and making sure he’s brushed up on all of the topics so that when he teaches you he’ll have somewhat of an idea of what he’s talking about

he took out a bunch of history books and lugged them all home and he has sticky notes everywhere and his brand new notebook is full of information relating to art history

he pauses and stops typing and leans back against his chair

what the hell is he doing

he’s seriously going to sit here the whole night doing research on a topic he’s never studied before because HE wants to be the one to teach you instead of stupid taehyung

….the answer is yes

namjoon adjusts his glasses and begins typing out his notes again

“the elegantly loosely held hands represent the most exquisite drawing of hands in the history of art…” namjoon mocks taehyung when he gets to a part in the textbook where it talks about da vinci “i bet he has some kind of hand fetish.,,. that beret-wearing weirdo”

maybe he’s being a little too harsh

namjoon is not a mean-spirited person

he’s just not used to.,..,,. relationship.,,., things..,., and the..,., the jealousy thing

he thinks that it’s stupid that he’s jealous but he can’t help it okay

he can be insecure sometimes and right now he’s kinda insecure because taehyung is smooth and handsome and charming and namjoon is weird and awkward and dorky but like in an endearing way??? kinda?? and-

u know what he’s not going to worry about this he doesn’t have time to worry he needs to write out these notes

the point is  

these are unfamiliar waters

he lets out a small breath

okay

nice and calm

everything’s good

EVERYTHING IS NOT GOOD

EVERYTHING IS BAD AND EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE AND THIS LIBRARY’S LOCATION IS IN HELL

“aw, joonie, that’s awfully sweet of you, but you didn’t have to! taehyung has it covered.” you coo and reach up to cup namjoon’s cheek “okay i’m going to go back to-“

“wait- you don’t even wanna try studying with me?? l-look, i made flash cards and everything!” namjoon sets the textbooks down on the counter with a thud before reaching over and grabbing the whole stack of multicoloured flash cards

“well, maybe we can study together… later! you really didn’t have to do all of this for me…” you trail off and furrow your brows

namjoon did a LOT of work like he filled out an entire notebook with notes and this is a thicc stacc of flashcards

“plus you need to dust the bookshelves, don’t you? why don’t you go ahead and do that?”

“y/n, you coming back?” you look over your shoulder and taheyung’s looking over at you worryingly and you wave him off

“yes! hold on, i’m just-“

“c’mon come sit let taehyung take a pee break or something let’s do some study- oH OH u know what i actually have a surprise for you!” namjoon rifles through his papers before sliding a brochure over to you “there’s an art exhibition in town this weekend! i can take you!!!!”

namjoon’s not aware of this but you’re not really paying attention to him because you’re looking through all the notes he wrote out for you

this is a loT of work how long did he take to write all of this down

you look up at him when you realise he’s stopped talking “sorry what was tha-“

“y/n! c’mon, i was just getting to the good part of the book.” taehyung suddenly appears behind you and wraps his fingers around your wrist

“oh, yep! okay, uh-“ before you know it taheyung’s dragging you back to the couch and you shoot namjoon a sheepish smile

it’s officially been three weeks since taehyung became your tutor

and these have been the worst three weeks of namjoon’s life

after the whole desperation act everything’s just seemed to get worse and worse and woRSE

suddenly taehyung is sucking up all of your time

you can’t grab a bite to eat with joon because taehyung wants you to watch a documentary to learn more about the mona lisa

you can’t hang out with joon in general because you’re spending every free minute studying your ass off

and all of these things have a common link

KIM TAEHYUNG

oOH god namjoon has never actively hated a person before but there’s always time to try new things!!!!!!!! HE HATES HIM

but this

this is just the iCIng on the cake!!! the cherry on the sundae!!!!!! the KICK IN THE ASS

“where are you going?? i thought we were finally going to grab some dinner together.” namjoon raises a brow when he notices you beginning to pack up early

“tae’s taking me to some art exhibition because he says it’s better for me to see the pieces up close rather than through the textbook” you hum as you start packing up your things “but don’t worry! i’ll make it back in time for dinner!!!”

namjoon’s eye twitches

u

you’re going to

you’re going to the art exhibition…. with taehyung……….. but u didn’t want to go when he suggested it.,,.,,.,.

“oh. i see.” namjoon slaps his book shut and clears his throat

you look over your shoulder before turning around

“…something’s wrong.”

see you have a thick skull but not to the point where you can’t see that something is obviously wrong

namjoon can practically hear the gears click-click-clicking away in your head as you stare at him blankly while trying to figure out what it is….,,. you did wrong,.,.,. ??

namjoon looks up at you and raises a brow “nothing’s wrong.” he shrugs casually before checking the time on his watch “you should probably head out to meet tae soon.” he murmurs a liTTLe more aggressively than he would’ve liked to murmur and brings his attention to his laptop

click-click-click-click-click

oh

OH

OH SHIT

oOOOohHHhHHH

“aw, joonie… i’m sorry!!!!” you pout and bend down and wrap your arms around him from behind as best as you can

“have i not been giving my doting boyfriend enough attention?” you tease and pop a kiss on his cheek before propping your chin up on his shoulder and namjoon lets out a sigh and stops typing

“cut it out, y/n” namjoon mutters and shrugs you off and you let out a breath

damn

he really mad

“namjoon, c’mon. i’m sorry, alright? i should’ve- you know how thick i am sometimes i thought tae was just being friendly because he seems like a naturally touchy person!”

“no one that friendly ever has friendly intentions.” namjoon turns around in his wheely chair to face you and raises a brow  

“i’m sorry, joon. really, i am.” you plop yourself down on his lap and wrap an arm around his neck before leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder

his arm slinks around your waist and he rests his other hand over your lap

“no, you don’t have anything to apologise for… it’s just me and my dumb insecurities.” namjoon coughs and you pop up immediately

“what insecurities?”

“i… i dunno… taehyung is… well, he’s not ugLy, that’s for sure.,., and he seems like he’s pretty well-off with his gucci shoes and his fancy berets.,.,. aNd he seems super smart like i heard him speaking fluent french and yA i can speak french too but not thAt well and whenever i hear him explaining things to you he’s super well spoken and it makes me feel like maybe i… maybe i’m not good enough for-“

“Don’T finish that sentence. don’t!!!” you gawk and furrow your brows

how could he even think that???

“you have absolutely nothing to be insecure about. i don’t like taehyung like that, i like you. i don’t care about his gucci shoes and his french and his fancy terminology.,.,, i only like him because he makes tutoring really fun! i like you, okay? you with your dorky glasses and your grandpa cardigans and your big, big… brain!” you beam at joon and he scoffs and rolls his eyes “if it makes you feel any better i think his cologne is waY too overpowering.”

“huh. that oddly does make me feel a little better.” he hums and you grin before leaning in to give him a kiss

you tilt your head to deepen the kiss and your hand slides up namjoon’s chest to fiddle with his tie

namjoon nudges you off his lap and you’re confused for a split second but then he’s pulling you down so that you can straddle him

“how much time do you have before you have to meet taehyung?” namjoon asks innocently although his hands are not so innocently sliding down your back and getting dangerously close to underneath your skirt

he buries his face into the crook of your neck and starts planting warm kisses on your skin  

you glance at his laptop over his shoulder “mm, 20 minutes?” you breathe out and let out a gasp when namjoon bucks his hips slightly

“is the,, uh.,, the act of forgiveness that you owed me for ditching me last week.,.,., is that still a thing?” namjoon pulls away and you nod quickly because YES it is still very much a thing “…u wanna… help me restock some books in the backroom before you leave?”

…u don’t even need to answer that question

taehyung enters the library to see that nobody is at the front desk

you were supposed to meet him by the math building but u didn’t show up.,., so naturally he decided to come to the library

he raises a brow and looks around the empty library

where-

“oh my god, namjoon!”

tae’s eyes pop out of their sockets when the silence is suddenly broken by a very loud moan

is that

is that u

oh my god

“yes, please, oh my god yes-“

…he’s just going to wait outside for you

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

masterlist

[tcfkag]

Spoonie Life: My Last Week (fun with complications)

So, I’m having a really rough week. It feels like literally the second I get a break from one thing or a handle on another, then another thing pops up. I never get a break and it is exhausting. And sometimes it just makes you feel so alone because even those that support you - and I have a hugely supportive community of people in my life - just can’t understand. I’ve been feeling increasingly depressed and anxious and alone and my therapist does not have any availability to see me...possibly for months. So I wanted to just write up everything I’m going through because sometimes that helps but also because hopefully some of you may have gone through some similar things (esp. blood clots and ovarian cysts) and could give advice and/or just support. 

Here’s a (not so) short summary of shit that’s been going on lately (in list form because why not). Don’t feel like you have to read it all. I know everyone has their own things going on. But I just needed somewhere to vent and while I shared some of this on FB, I also feel freer to be honest and just fully disclose how hard this is for me here. Sometimes that’s one good thing about this hell site - less reason to self-censor and try to sound positive/hopeful/happy when I really truly am not.

Last Monday (the 15th), I finally finished three months of IV antibiotics I was on for an intra-abdominal abscess (an infected collection of fluid that was right underneath my diaphragm which meant that, for a while, it hurt to even take a breath). 

Good news right? Stopped it about a week ago which is awesome because the antibiotics were infused two hours x three times a day (i.e. six f*cking hours a day that I was connected to an IV bag).

But, I knew I would need a follow-up CT scan that was scheduled for this past Wednesday....and who knew what that would show.

Towards the end of last week, I started feeling very tired all the time. And then my physical stamina just suddenly....decompensated abruptly. I would get tired doing anything. Monotasker and I went to the grocery store and halfway through, I had to sit down (or risk passing out). After a few minutes, I told him “we need to get out of here” so we rushed through the rest of the basics we needed. And then while he checked out, I sat on a bench near-by. My heart was racing, I was out of breath, I was dizzy and light-headed, and just generally felt like I had run a 5K. 

The first couple times this happened I thought “well, maybe I’m out of shape, I *haven’t* been working out at ALL lately. But then I remembered, it was what - a week ago that I attended NYCC where sure, I got tired sometimes and had to sit down once in a while, but it was nothing like this. And I knew that fitness doesn’t decompensate like that....it’s sad that when confronted with such a serious health issue that my first reaction was to just....blame myself. Right away.

So last Sunday (a little over a week ago), I went into the ER to get checked out. I hoped it was something SIMPLE, like dehydration or maybe my anemia had gotten worse or low levels of some kind of electrolyte imbalance. Anything that could be handled in a single evening. Three guesses about whether that was really the problem (though if you’ve followed me for more than a hot minute, I’m sure you know that the right answer is...because of course, NOTHING is ever simple).

At the ER, they decided to do the CT scan I was supposed to have that Wednesday just to make sure there wasn’t anything they were missing. And while the abscess they had been treating was largely unchanged (so they are going to stop the antibiotics), they also found that I had a blood clot in my pelvis. This is my third blood clot but the other two (a DVT in 2008 and a PE in 2015) were both post-surgical. This is my first blood clot that happened “spontaneously”. The admitted me to the hospital for about 48 hours and put me on a heparin drip until they could get a blood thinner arranged to release me and send me home. 

A few observations and factoids about blood clots and their treatment for those who are interested.

People with Crohn’s Disease and Ulcerative Colitis (i.e. IBD) are more prone to blood clots. If you have IBD (or any autoimmune disease actually), you should be aware of this risk and know the signs of blood clots (esp. after surgery) and make sure to take preventative measures like standing up to walk around on long flights.

 Traditionally, blood clots were treated with the blood thinner warfarin (Coumadin is its brand name). It takes a few days to get to the correct level in your blood, so you have to be on injections of another blood thinner Lovenox (twice a day, at home, injected yourself) until your “INR” reaches the right level in your blood. While on warfarin you have to have regular bloodwork to check your INR - every few days at first, then weekly, and if you’re on it long term the tests become less common.

This is very challenging for me - after ALL the health issues I’ve had, my veins are completely shot. Even basic blood work is a challenge.

There is a newer genre of blood thinners out there called DACOs - you’ve probably heard of them (they include Xarelto and Elliquis) which are better for a couple reasons, I guess, but the main one for me is the lack of required blood thinners. Three guesses on whether my health insurance approved them? NOPE. They sent me into pre-authorization hell (which frequently means “nope never going to happen” but in this case I hope means “well if your doctor pushes hard enough, we’ll give in eventually).

Question: has anyone gotten one of the DACOs approved? Is there anything specific that you had to prove? How did it end up working out?

If you are someone who menstruates, just be aware - going on a blood thinner can cause your period to start early (mine started less than two days after starting them - at least a week or two early) AND it will make your period longer and heavier. 

P.S. - the GYN I saw yesterday said that Xarelto would make that even worse which leads into a later part of this post, but basically she said it was really important that I get my IUD replaced if I was going to be on Xarelto long term.

Since this is my third blood clot, it may mean that I will have to be on blood thinners permanently, which I’m not looking forward to AT ALL. Because really, do I need another medical complication? The answer is no. No, I do not. WHICH MAKES THE NEXT PART OF THIS POST IRONIC.

So this is the part of the post that I could actually use some advice on. 

So for a while, maybe as long as a year, every CT or MRI I’ve had has included a note from the radiologist saying that a benign ovarian cyst was seen on the scan (or sometimes it was called an “inclusive cyst” from the ovary into the peritoneal area. It would sometimes “recommend follow up with a GYN”. Okay....fair enough.

When I asked my GI and my PCP about it a long while ago (maybe even two years ago), they both sort of just said “sure you should see an OB-GYN about that at some point” but really didn’t follow-up on it. And then time passed because I had a LOT of other health issues that took precedence.

Sometime nine-months to a year ago, I started having pain in the area where my rectum used to be, especially when I was sitting at my desk at work. There were days it was so bad that I could not sit directly on my butt at all and had to constantly find different positions. And on those days, I would frequently also have pretty severe pain in my pelvis. For months I basically ignored it...again, I have chronic pain and I had bigger fish to fry. Again, it got put on the back burner. Until one day it was so painful I was crying at work. So I called my PCP who also called my GI and he looked at my scan and said “it’s probably that cyst, you should see a GYN....” Still no urgency (and my PCP even said “I don’t know i it’s that - sometimes doctors like to blame cysts when they just don’t know what else is wrong.”) Again and again, this cyst was acknowledged but treated as no big deal - a nuisance to be dealt with eventually.

Side note: at no point in this did my PCP or my GI bother to ask me about pain with sex, despite that being a somewhat obvious question.

So nine months ago (or so), my PCP finally did get me a referral to see someone in the minimally invasive surgical OB-GYN office. I called to make that appointment and was told “you cannot see a surgeon until you’ve seen one of the GYNs” so I got an appointment for several months later with a GYN in the office. 

Then, I had to cancel two different appointments with her because I kept being sick and/or in the hospital...and of course, each new appointment was two-three months later. 

So my appointment with the GYN (who was lovely) was yesterday. She told me that my cyst (which is in both the ovary and the peritoneum) is now the size of a GRAPEFRUIT! It is almost certainly to blame for the pain I get sometimes in my (former) rectal area and the pain I have when I have sex. She said that even if it’s “benign”, if it’s symptomatic like this, I shouldn’t have to live that way. For the first time, I had a doctor who I felt like was taking this issue seriously even though it wasn’t related to my IBD and was “just” a lady issue. (Though to be fair to my PCP, she has taken it seriously in the past, but it’s just not her specialty).

This GYN also said she’d be willing to take me to the procedure room and sedate me to put an IUD in, whether I have surgery or not because I had such a bad experience getting it last time!!! I really loved that she took my concerns about that seriously. Bless her.

So the (very extended) upshot is that I made an appointment with the minimally invasive surgeon who I was supposed to see SIX-NINE months ago (who, amazingly enough, had an appointment available MONDAY) and I may need to have another surgery to take care of this cyst. This cyst that wasn’t always the size of a grapefruit....but years of being told that it was benign, to “check it out” eventually, and having all of my other health needs take precedence has now left me here. With a huge cyst that has ruined my sex life and is starting to seriously impact my everyday life too.

TL;DR? I have TERRIBLE LUCK. ESPECIALLY this week. And I’m just feeling absolutely overwhelmed, lonely, and frustrated. And if you’ve had experience having surgery for an ovarian cyst, especially one that’s “including” on something outside the ovary, I’d really appreciate your thoughts on the procedure and whether it helped and was worth it.