#one time I had to go off my meds for medical reasons and became fully nocturnal

[myrabbitistrying2killme]

My live can be summed up in an autobiography titled “reasons I belong to the spiral”

[cazort]

So like, I don't fully agree with this, and part of the reason is that over the course of my life I have experienced, many times, doctors prescribing me stronger and/or more pain meds than I needed, and I think that if I had taken the full course of some of these medicines, I might have ended up addicted to opiates and/or benzodiazepines. I have seen this happen to friends and family members of friends who were just taking meds that were prescribed, and taking them as recommended. I've seen some people have a really tough time getting off medicines they became dependent on, and I've seen a lot of people who developed tolerances to pain and/or anti-anxiety meds to where their quality-of-life quickly went right back to the baseline they were at before they started taking the meds.

I know that a lot of people on Tumblr seem to talk about the stigma on drugs and pressure not to take drugs, but my experience has been different: in the circles I've traveled in in my life, I've felt far more pressure to take prescription drugs than to avoid them.

I can't even count how many times I was given prescriptions by doctors that I never filled. I also had a lot of people, including peers and random adults like parents of my friends, therapists or other medical professionals, and just random people, suggest I take drugs for all sorts of ailments, including for pain and for psychological distress.

When I was in college, I knew two students who had a veritable pharmacy of illegal prescription drugs that they had collected, some from their own prescriptions and some from other people who either gave them to them, or sold them to them. These students would sometimes sell prescription drugs illegally, without a prescription and without the training and preparation that pharmacists get, and they would sometimes give the drugs away.

In upper-middle-class demographics, prescription drug use is so normalized that nearly everyone is on these drugs and no one is paying for them fully, they're all either fully or mostly-covered by insurance. It's a huge industry but the money is coming from increased insurance costs paid by everyone, which of course hurts the unemployed and self-employed and also hurts marginal businesses, including self-employed people, who are pinched by the rising healthcare costs.

In my experience, a lot of pain is self-limiting and is not actually helped in the long-run by taking more drugs. And I say this as a person who has experienced both chronic illness of which pain was a key component, and also has experienced severe, debilitating pain in a variety of other situations, including from a sinus infection, severe nerve pain, and multiple wasp stings, probably the three most painful experiences of my life. Sometimes the pain lasted just for hours, other time for days, other time for weeks or months, and the pain I had from long COVID, which was debilitating at times, lasted for years.

I really don't think taking more pain meds would have helped me. There were some times I took pain meds during long COVID. There were times I could not sleep without taking pain meds.

But like...I would have gotten through fine without those meds. I might have lost a few nights of sleep here and there, and had a few rougher days. It would have been rough on those days. But it was already really rough on those days and the pain meds weren't a make-or-break thing for me.

When I look at the people's lives who have been turned upside down by overuse or abuse of pain meds, especially opiates and benzodiazepines, often overuse or abuse that was actively encouraged or at least facilitated by medical professionals and/or friends and family, the amount of damage seems much greater than the benefit I would have gotten from taking these drugs.

I am not saying that pain meds are always bad. But I strongly disagree with the OP's assertion that "It is actually way better for 100 addicts to get their fix on pain pills than a single person in pain go without." I don't even think it is necessarily better for 1 person to unquestioningly "get their fix on pain pills" than a single person in pain go without those same pills. I see so many people whose lives have been ruined by addiction and drug overuse, and their suffering seems huge relative to the transient, short-term benefit offered from taking more of these same pills.

Also I really disagree that there is a segregation into "addicts and drug abusers" and "people with real pain". People often become addicted to pain meds specifically because they have real pain. The meds work in the short-term, but they quickly develop a tolerance because the meds do nothing for the pain in the long-term.

This isn't about judging whose pain is "valid". All pain is valid. Everyone's experiences are valid. But just because you have real pain, even debilitating pain, and just because pain meds help you in the short-term, doesn't mean that you are necessarily better off taking more of those meds in the long-term. It is really important to understand the phenomenon of tolerance to these drugs, because it not only makes people addicted, but it makes them completely lose their effectiveness. It can even create suffering, like even if the original cause of the pain is long since gone, the suffering caused by going without the meds can be just as bad as the original pain was. I have seen so many people go through this and it's terrifying to me, and it's especially terrifying that the pro-drug narrative on Tumblr doesn't acknowledge this process.

It is actually way better for 100 addicts to get their fix on pain pills than a single person in pain go without. I call this the "Torture is bad" principle. You should be able to get the good stuff forever after a single doctor's visit. If you're worried about addicts fund rehab centers and needle exchanges instead of torturing people.

[coeurdastronaute]

Nerd 14

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer. 

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family. 

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other. 

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him. 

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him. 

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her. 

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first. 

“Yes.” 

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family. 

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?” 

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?” 

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.” 

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else. 

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house. 

“I’ll be home around midnight.” 

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.” 

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.” 

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.” 

“I’ve been doing fine.” 

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.” 

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother. 

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.” 

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?” 

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy. 

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head. 

“I could say the same thing.” 

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again. 

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.” 

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.” 

“No.” 

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?” 

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance. 

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans. 

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party. 

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped. 

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare. 

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even. 

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared. 

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water. 

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.” 

“How is it different than any other party?” 

“It just is.” 

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.” 

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still. 

“We need to get you home.” 

“Clarke invited me.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.” 

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--

“Gus-- is that cocaine?” 

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed. 

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?” 

“You don’t need to know that.” 

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.” 

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness. 

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player. 

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?” 

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?” 

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.” 

“Full ride?” 

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.” 

“No, that’s smart.” 

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex. 

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.” 

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand. 

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.” 

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled. 

“Anya Woods’ sister.” 

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted. 

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.” 

“Why would you--”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction. 

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy. 

“I told you I’d stop by.” 

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening. 

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.” 

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words. 

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?” 

“As okay as can be.” 

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all. 

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair. 

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured. 

“Kind of.” 

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.” 

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.” 

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

“You moved on quick, huh?” 

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.” 

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?” 

“Yup,” Clarke nodded. 

“I heard she was--”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished. 

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it. 

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest. 

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch. 

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could. 

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.” 

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.” 

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.” 

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned. 

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.” 

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.” 

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.” 

“Why?” 

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.” 

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt. 

“It was stupid.” 

“Do you feel better?” 

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered. 

“I don’t feel better at all.” 

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek. 

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.” 

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered. 

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”

“It’s okay.” 

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed. 

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer. 

“I wouldn’t ever.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.” 

“Okay.” 

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

NEXT

[doodlehorseafternoon]

Hello hello! I just graduated vet school like a month ago, so hopefully I can offer some thoughts:

This is a long one, I hope that's okay

First off, those are all highly valid thoughts and feelings to be having. I went through a similar process when I first got in. A week after I fully enrolled I had a full on "holy cow, what have I just committed to?" crisis. The core of vet school is that it is hard; emotionally, mentally, physically, and it takes up a lot of your time. Medical school always is.

If it is not your dream, do not go. I imagine you know this, but it bears repeating. And if you start the journey and decide halfway through its not for you? That's perfectly fine as well. There is no law saying you must finish everything you start. Sometimes we only know after we have dared to take the plunge. Sometimes we need to pause and come back to it later. There's no wrong answer.

In regards to working in a clinic day in and day out: This is very valid and I personally can't do it. My career track is large animal/equine orientated partly because farm calls are my favorite and being outdoors makes me happy. A small clinic setting is not for me. The good news on this front is that there's many places you can go in medicine (research, pathology, wildlife, zoo, large animal, public health, etc.). Ability to be in a clinic setting doesn't determine your ability to live the life.

In terms of missing out on life: There are losses and gains in either direction. Speaking personally, I wouldn't give up who I became for the world. I missed life events I am grieving now that I am out of school, but I also made friends and saw things I could only ever dream of. I lost my love of some hobbies, but I gained new ones. Anesthesia scared the daylights out of me but now I can make phone calls without the same anxiety I had before. Second year onwards required my therapist. We talked about so much outside of vet school that changed my life for the better in all aspects (and I do mean all).

Life happened in vet school and outside of it. Being in vet school afforded me some life experiences and denied me others. I firmly believe this is how all things are. There are trade-offs to everything. We live life regardless. The important moments remain regardless of the direction we experience.

One particular externship made me almost quit vet school. One fourth year rotation nearly convinced me to just walk out of the building entirely, graduation in six months be damned. Conversely, I got to be in colic surgery for a friend's horse, my therapist is one of the best things to happen from vet school, and those awful experiences helped me build boundaries so they wouldn't happen again.

There's not a lot of time to draw in med school, but I still draw. Riding horses went on the back burner for a number of reasons beyond just time (career ending injuries are a thing), but I'll get back to it.

You don't have to have it all planned out. Honest. I sure as heck didn't, even if it might look like I did. The mantra was to take it one day or major event at a time. If it worked out? Great! If not? Well, there's always another road to travel, another opportunity to find joy in. There was a lot of winging it involved in externships, job shadowing, and clinical experience.

The only promise I made about vet school was to never let the profession consume all of me. There's other ways to fulfill my life outside of vet med. If it came down to my life or leaving? The set in stone answer was always to leave. Still is.

Most importantly though? Vet school is going to change you one heck of a lot. It's going to be hard. Sometimes it'll feel impossible. To survive, you'll need to develop an attitude of self advocation. It's going to test you and you'll learn to do things you never thought were possible. It's hard to put to words the experience, I'll be honest.

I'm out the other side and I'm not sure I'd do it again given the chance- but I wouldn't give up who I became for the world.

Hope this helps, all the best from a recent grad ❤

I’m applying to vet school for the second time, and I’m genuinely not sure that I want to go now.

I couldn’t tell you if it’s my dream or my family’s dream at this rate.

I don’t know if I want to work in a clinic day in and day out, I’m fearful of going to Vet School, but I’m more fearful of missing out on life. I’m scared that life will continue to just pass me by instead of happening to me, and I know that its happening right now anyways.

I worry that I won’t have time for myself if I go back to school, and I might as well give up on even trying to ride horses and take reining lessons.

I’m just tired of always needing a plan for life, and some days I feel that going to vet school will be more of a stressor on me. It’s not fun or exciting for me most days.

Does anyone have any advice? Whether you’re a pre-vet or Vet med student now, it would be appreciated.

[ladykatakuri]

She is his treasure, part 1

Crosshair ( The Bad Batch ) x F Reader

Rating: General

Warnings: Not really, it is mostly self indulgent fluff, especially since E8. 

Summary: When Omega told him that, his head seemed to split open and the biggest of headaches ran him over like a speederbike. For the first time since he was ordered to tie up all loose ends, he was in serious doubt and he doubted the order given to him. It was as if some switch in his mind was pulled and the duplicity of all that happened came rushing into his mind, all at once.

https://ladykatakuri.tumblr.com/post/655438717332455424/she-is-his-treasure-part-2

https://ladykatakuri.tumblr.com/post/656332331678892032/she-is-his-treasure-part-3

Crosshair never was much of the emotions. He was a soldier and a good soldier follows orders. After his inhibitor chip was enhanced, he did exactly that, following orders, to a tee. He even turned against his brothers from Clone Force 99, better known as the Bad Batch. Clones with a defect, or more humane clones as his brothers might have considered themselves. Now, Crosshair was once more just a soldier for the Empire. But the last message he received had him torn to his core.

It was three days ago he received that coded transmission and it was a good thing he took it in private. Omega had contacted him which was already surprising to him, after all he had expected it to be one of his brothers to contact him in a gamble to reach the old him. But what Omega had to tell him….. Well, this was completely unexpected.

When he was ordered to hunt  the rest of CF99, he had no doubts and used all of their old contacts to track them down. Though the Empire was only interested in his brethren and Omega, he had an extra incentive to find them fast now. She was with them when they deserted and she was his reason now to find them all even faster.

“I think you should know, she is pregnant.” When Omega told him that, his head seemed to split open and the biggest of headaches ran him over like a speederbike. For the first time since he was ordered to tie up all loose ends, he was in serious doubt and he doubted the order given to him. It was as if some switch in his mind was pulled and the duplicity of all that happened came rushing into his mind, all at once.

All he could think of now was to find her. Her and their unborn child.  “Our child….. “ Something seemed to tug at his heart and he had no idea what to do with it. The headache was still there in the background, but to him it was just an inconvenience. Fully geared up he was about to depart from the freighter when one of the troopers approached him. “Are you sure you should go at this alone sir? If they are here, you might need backup.” Cocking an eyebrow he growled at the audacity of the trooper to question his orders. “ You have your orders, follow them.” Putting on his helmet he flicked his toothpick in a bin, departed and let the rest of the troopers take off to look for his brothers on the other side of the planet. There was no way he would lead them straight to her, ‘them’, if he could avoid it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a shock to everyone there when they saw the shuttle crash down, and even more so when they realised it`s occupants had somehow survived the crash. To think that the empire would try and take down a shuttle with innocent people in it was one thing, but a medical shuttle? People were outraged and they made sure to be vocal about it, until the troops came pouring in and made their way to the crash site. That was also the moment Hunter quickly decided to take his brothers and Omega away from the place. You would be safe, since nobody would expect a civilian to be tied to them, especially a pregnant one. That did not mean he would lose track of you though, and when Omega pulled him aside to talk, he realised once more how smart this young girl truly was and how much promise her idea had. But first things first, time to make sure that you were treated well and that you would recover soon. Safety above all, he instructed his brothers on how to move ahead.

“You all know that Y/N is best off without being directly tied to us. The only one who knows her as well as we do is Crosshair, and I doubt he will have informed the Imps on her. At Least not fully.” Hunter paused for a moment before continuing what he had to tell them and to give them their instructions. “Her chaincode has been forged and she also covered up her scars and tattoos. The only way the Imps will know who she is would be when Crosshair recognises her while he is with them.” Tech, Echo, Wrecker and Omega all nod at this simple statement.

“Right now the safest place for Y/N to be at is in the medical ward here in the city. We took a big risk moving her from one side of the planet to the other, but she made it and is treated now. Omega has a plan for us to get our lost brother back and also help Y/N.” 

For a moment all of them seemed to be lost in thought. The idea that you were injured already shook them, the idea that it might be used to reunite with their lost brother? Well, it gave them a double feeling. On one hand they felt as if they would use your condition and might endanger you if their brother was beyond saving. On the other hand it would give them that one good chance to either saving their brother and reunite, or give him the ultimate freedom if they failed. Either way, this was, as Hunter said, their one good chance and they would grasp it with both hands. Thankfully, they did have some help on the planet, especially since they helped out some of the inhabitants with an imperial problem. Corrupt officials were pretty normal, wherever you would go, you could find one or more of them. This one was no challenge and they made quick work of getting rid of him. Now they could rely on the help of one of the doctors in the med bays and that was a key part of Hunter's plan. 

Omega was restless as she was sitting at the side of your bed. Looking at you, deep asleep and not knowing what was happening around you, she could not help but smile. “I don`t know if you can hear me Y/N, but I really hope my plan will work. Especially for you.” Grabbing your hand, she squeezes it slightly and sighs. “You are always so kind to me and you help me understand things the men can`t. I want you to be happy.” Tapping her foot on the floor, Omega looked around the room they had you moved to. Far away from the other patient rooms and private enough to make sure that they would be able to confront Crosshair without causing too much of a ruckus in the ward. Everything was now in place and all they could do was wait for their  missing brother to turn up. He already landed on the planet, now it was just a matter of how many would come and how well prepared he was for this confrontation, he surely knew would come.

Notes: This is my first TBB story and it is a 2 parter, i am currently working on part 2. I hope you all like it. English is not my native language so if there are any mistakes please do let me know :D And as always i demand Crosshair to be set free and reunited truly with his Vod !  @loth-wolffe  I am redoing all the tags. somehow they never showed up right lol

So i edited this post because, it became a 3 parter >.< I blame the guys for not letting me do what i intended to do and Crosshair for being so kriffing awesome and loveable <3 

@nahoney22 Boo i hope you also like this story or maybe have some tips for me. @reluctant-mandalore I wanted to tag you as well because as a fan of your work i would highly appreciate any tips you could also give.  If i did not tag you, it really does not mean i do not want your words of comment or advice etc. I highly appreciate advice or when i did something wrong. I just am a lazy tagger most times and am not the most secure in tagging when it is about my works :D

@catbustours​ Thought you might like it even if it is not as awesome as Coriolis ;)

[daisybeewrites]

Academy Blues

sometimes you punch the bag, sometimes to bag punches you

word count: 4.5k

warnings: none. heavy handed use of italics

ship: Dousy (Daniel Sousa/Daisy Johnson), background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

ahaha.. and the fun begins (the cryptic-ness is for a reason i promise)

“Ow!!” Daisy exclaimed. This was the second time today she had gotten distracted and let the punching bag swing into her. Sans Bobbi or Mack, her usual workout partners, there was no one to hold the bag still while she was pummeling it. Her side of the gym was entirely void of people, most opting to use the treadmills or other cardio machines lining the wall of large windows that faced the forest to the south, or stick to circuits on the resistance machines throughout the middle of the gym. The universe seemed to be telling her to get in some boxing, so she walked over to the bag with the intention of punching until her arms hurt.

Now her nose hurts, too.

“You need a spot?” May asked, silently crossing the padded floor to Daisy.

She nodded. Waiting for May to get into position, Daisy stretched out her arms over her head and across her body, twisting her torso to feel her abs stretch. When May gave her a thumbs up, Daisy started to punch the heavy bag again, this time with a little more force now that she knew it wouldn’t fly back and hit her in the face.

“Something on your mind?”

“No,” Daisy grunted. “Just slacked off the last few weeks. With everyone gone on break there wasn’t as much of... everything, I guess, to keep me in a routine.”

May nodded. “Breaks can be tough. No classes, schedule disrupted, more free time than you know what to do with. I get it. If you ever want a time-filler, text and I’ll be there.”

Daisy nodded, going back to silently punching. The breaks weren’t all bad. They only happened eight times a year, five two-week breaks and three three-week breaks. Enough time that those with families and lives outside of SHIELD could visit and vacation, but not fall behind. Plus, it gave Daisy the campus pretty much to herself. Only about forty students stayed at The Academy over breaks, and it seemed to decrease every time.

Another good thing about breaks was that Daisy got to know more people personally. Whether it was how the tall, fifth-year red head took her morning coffee or that the new group of first-years liked to run the same trails through the forest as she did. So, when an entirely new face had cropped up out of nowhere, Daisy was intrigued. He walked with a limp, had nice hair and kind eyes. She didn’t recognize him, and despite the fact that he had arrived the same day as the rest of the first-years, he was definitely the oldest of the pack. That was unusual, Daisy had thought, SHIELD almost always recruits directly out of high school or college. The last time anyone over the age of twenty-five had been accepted to the Academy was when Daisy herself had started. However, that was a bit of a… special situation.

Every morning, New Guy crossed through the computer lab and waved, smiling confidently at Daisy. His sudden appearance and amicable interactions confused her. Classes weren’t in session, but he always had a backpack with him. Maybe he had tutoring with one of the professors? A new student trying to catch up before the term even began — an enigma.

Once classes had started, he still came by everyday. Daisy liked to think it was because he wanted to see her. They had never spoken more than tired greetings to each other, and yet Daisy felt herself pulled towards him. She shook off the thought. It made her skin crawl, thinking about the last time she felt such a magnetic attraction to someone.

She realized May was studying her through the mirrors lining the wall next to the row of punching bags. She cleared her throat and asked, “Is my form okay?”

May gave her a long look that clearly said, ‘You know that your form is fine.’

Daisy pulled her eyes away from May’s stare, announcing, “I’m going to fill up my water, do you need any?”

May shook her head, pulling out her phone.

Daisy bent down to grab her water and headed to the back of the gym, towards the locker rooms. A couple of reusable bottle-filler stations were stuck into the wall, right next to the PT rooms. Daisy couldn’t help but peer into the closest one as she listened to the sound of water streaming into her bottle. It was filled with floor ladders, yoga balls, sports med supplies... New Guy. Huh.

Wondering why he would be sitting in a dark PT room by himself, Daisy took a swig of her water before continuing to fill it up. He hopped off the table as the lights came on, a young doctor-type walking in a smiling. She was reminded of his limp when he walked towards her, shaking her hand and flashing a large smile. Cute, Daisy noticed. Wait, no, what?

Daisy promptly turned and headed back to the wall of mirrors, choosing to ignore the smirk on May’s face.

“Ready?” Daisy asked.

“Actually,” May began, “Why don’t we get in some sparring? You’ve been at this for over an hour.”

Daisy caught the glance May threw at the half-assed wraps on her hands and nodded. With only a few jitters, Daisy quickly helped May unroll the sparring mats onto the floor. Daisy had only sparred with Yo-Yo since she got back from Columbia visiting her cousin. Sparring with May was an entirely different level.

After some warm-up drills, May silently took charge and got into a fighting stance. Daisy rose up on her tip-toes, then rocked backwards. The grey padding beneath her looked a lot softer than it felt while being slammed onto it. A quick lunge from Daisy and a swift deflection by May, and the two women were off.

Across the gym, Daniel Sousa and the doctor were chatting, watching Daisy and May.

“They look like they’re barely breaking a sweat,” Daniel commented after May leaped off Daisy’s leg, flipping forwards and attempting to grab Daisy around the shoulders. Daisy rolled backward, throwing May over her and getting to her feet as the shorter woman jumped up into a wide stance.

“You’ll get back to that level,” The physical therapist assured him.

Daniel shook his head. “Maybe. I hope so. If not, I’m a damn good shot, anyway.”

The doctor chuckled before motioning back to the PT room. “C’mon, you still have thirty minutes stuck with me before I release you from daily therapy.”

“It’s only been three weeks?” Daniel questioned, confused. They walked through a black door to a small room. Grey cabinets on one side, a black table on the other, physical therapy tools lined up in organized sections.

“Most of which was just assessing you. You already know the exercises and stretches, and you completed the physical therapy recommended by your primary care physician before you came to us. You have the strength mostly back in your residual limb, at least to the point where sparring shouldn’t do any damage. I still expect you to show up at least twice a week. Especially since you’re starting field training with May.”

He smiled. “How do you know about that?”

“I have access to your file, Sousa,” She reminded him, “I also know you were late to her class on the first day. Not a smart move, in my opinion.”

Daniel cringed at the memory of heads turning his way, watching him limp to the only open seat in the very front. May’s comment— “Thoughtful of you to join us, Agent Sousa,” —still turned his face a slightly embarrassing shade of red when he thought about it.

Noticing his uncomfortable silence, the physical therapist put on a sympathetic face. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. I was late to my first class, too. Professor Martin, advanced physiology. Granted, I was seventeen...”

Daniel playfully glared at her.

“...but I suppose that’s no excuse. Let’s get started.”

The rest of the day went by without Daisy or Daniel seeing much of each other besides a fleeting glimpse while changing classes. Not that they were looking for the other, or anything.

A few hours later, before dinner, Daisy was sitting on the counter in the girls’ dorm bathroom, watching Jemma curl her hair.

Jemma Simmons was one of the only people she immediately loved at SHIELD, and the first person she had trusted on Coulson’s team. Over the course of a couple months, they became closer than Daisy had ever been with anyone, spending almost every waking moment together. Over time, Daisy had grown to love the rest of the team, too, learning that they had also been hand picked by Coulson. Though, technically, Daisy hadn’t been chosen for the team. She was picked up as a consultant. But it didn’t matter, as the ragtag team had quickly been disbanded.

Knives shoved into your back can have that effect.

After the end of the team, Code-named Bus Kids, Daisy, Fitzsimmons, Tripp, and May and Coulson had come to the Academy to continue working with SHIELD. Daisy and Tripp were assigned as partners in their ops training, Fitzsimmons were partners in the lab, and May and Coulson still checked on them as if nothing had changed.

But people get busy, and it had been awhile since Jemma and Daisy had properly talked to each other.

“Does the bruise on my nose look like it’ll go away any time soon?”

Jemma glanced up through the mirror, shrugging. “It should. What did you do to it?”

Daisy fiddled with her hands, only answering when Jemma turned to face her fully.

“I kinda, uhm, got punched...”

The stern look Jemma gave Daisy quickly melted into laughter as the brunette added, “...by a punching bag.”

Reaching up to turn Daisy’s face towards the fluorescent bathroom lighting, Jemma gently ran a finger along the angry red splotch on the top of Daisy’s nose. She jerked her head a bit, wincing at the contact.

“You should be fine, I’ll grab some of the good anti-inflammatory meds from the medical storage.”

Daisy thanked her, hopping off the counter to grab an eyeliner pen. “So, how is Fitz? Is this a real date night or are you guys ‘just hanging out’?”

Jemma smiled at his name and rubbed her neck. Daisy smiled back at the subconscious reaction.

“You two are so meant for each other,” She teased.

Jemma tilted her face up towards Daisy, allowing her to start applying eyeliner.

“He hasn’t really defined it. We’re ‘going out’, but we aren’t dating.”

Daisy finished the subtle cat eye, shaking her head. When would he learn that Jemma would only believe they were together if he said, ‘Hey, Jems, I’m completely and totally in love with you and I want you and I to live happily ever after!’

Daisy watched Jemma inspect herself in the mirror, touching up her mascara.

“You look amazing. He’s a fool if he doesn’t see it,” Daisy assured.

Jemma smiled. Her Sheffield accent had gotten thicker over break, Daisy noticed, as Jemma responded, “He does, I know he does. We both just have trouble, you know? Voicing our thoughts and feelings.”

Daisy definitely knew…

“Well, he could do with a good reminder sometimes. If y’all are going to keep going on these not-dates, you might as well show him what he’s missing by staying just friends!”

Jemma laughed, smiling gratefully. She took one final look in the mirror, swishing her knee-length royal blue dress and fluffing her hair. “Okay, well, off I go. Have a good night, Daisy.”

Daisy gave her a thumbs up and went to watch out her window as Fitz handed Jemma a hand-picked bouquet of (slightly squished) wildflowers and took her arm to lead her to the parking lot.

Daisy sighed and turned away from the gold and pink sunset. She opened her personal laptop, immediately bombarded by three windows running programs. One was running an innocent algorithm to clean all the useless, unused files from her computer, one was a simulation that could (hypothetically, no harm no foul) hack the Pentagon, and another was trying to find video and audio feed from Los Angeles, four months ago.

Daisy’s gaze lingered on the last one, not expecting anything new. She sighed and picked up her laptop, deciding to go visit Mack in the garage. It was only seven on a Friday, he’d probably be there working on the run-down, close to falling apart Harley he had bought off an old friend for $200. Mack had been working on it for months. Daisy wasn’t even sure it had half its original parts.

A short trip across the grounds and a trek over a winding path cut through a field of thick tallgrass later, Daisy arrived at the garage.

The monstrous steel and concrete building was like a plane hangar and mechanics lab forged into one. Workstations around the edge were strewn with tools, motors, and half-finished pieces of tech. Shining black SHIELD vehicles and even two quinjets sat in the middle, outlined by rectangular blocks of tape and paint. Catwalks crossed the upper level so that mechanics could reach the tops of planes when necessary, though SHIELD planes hardly ever came to The Academy unless they were being used for a lesson.

Daisy followed the sounds of tinkering and the quietly moving shadows to Mack’s workstation. She carefully leaned against a nearby SHIELD van, not wanting to interrupt his work.

Now, to say that Mack wasn’t easily frightened was an understatement. Daisy had hardly ever seen the muscled giant of a man so much as jump. Ever since discovering this, Daisy had taken every opportunity to try to scare Mack. It was not going great.

Daisy pulled out her phone, silently thumbing through emails and checking Instagram. She was about to walk over and tap him on the shoulder when Mack turned around and screamed.

Clutching his chest, Mack exclaimed, “Tremors, what the hell?!”

“I just wanted to come check in,” Daisy giggled, happy that she had finally snuck up on Mack.

Mack stood with his hands on his hips, smiling wide, before cocking one thick eyebrow and gesturing at her face.

“What happened to your nose?”

“Punching bag won this morning,” She shrugged.

Mack shook his head, laughing in a deep rumble. “You wanna help me with this?” He asked, pointing to the small device on his desk.

She didn’t answer, just reached out to take a small screwdriver from Mack’s very large hand. He showed her how to twist it to create leverage without it slipping while he messed with some wires, and eventually he seemed satisfied.

“Have you eaten dinner?” Mack asked casually.

Daisy nodded, her grumbling stomach betraying her.

Mack eyed her up and down. “Sure. Well, I’m hungry, so let's get something to eat and then we can take the bikes out.”

Daisy liked the feeling of being on a bike, the wind in her hair and steady vibrations from the engine soothing her ever-present headache. Ever since this revelation, if Mack went out on his motorcycle, he invited Daisy to ride with him.

At first, Daisy had been skeptical. What was so great about a two-wheel speeding death trap? One of her best friends had driven a gleaming 1969 Dodge Charger, and she had enjoyed riding with the windows down, but it still wasn’t the absolute best experience of her life, like most motorcyclists claimed a ride could be. However, once Daisy had finally taken Mack up on his offer, she was never hesitant to accept another invitation.

In the canteen, Mack piled a plate high with salad ingredients and baked spaghetti, scooping some off into a bowl for Daisy once he got back to the table. She took a fork and picked at it, chewing the crisp lettuce slowly.

Once they were both finished, Mack put his plate and utensils on the circling dish belt. He let Daisy lead the way back to the garage. She immediately grabbed two helmets and Mack’s gloves.

“That leather jacket gonna be enough to keep you warm? I have a couple old flannels in my bag if you want one.” Mack offered.

Daisy picked at a loose thread on the worn black jacket, nodding and throwing a ‘Thanks’ over her shoulder. She quickly rifled through his duffel bag, pulling out a faded black and blue flannel and shrugging it on under her jacket.

Mack mounted his black and silver bike, Daisy choosing a smaller SHIELD one. She kicked the kickstand back with her foot, finding her balance. She followed Mack as he revved the engine and took off out of the garage. Daisy heard him speak into the helmet’s mic.

“I upgraded the bikes, bigger tires and a better visor. It’s more efficient. Plus, when I’m out on the highway, cars don’t push me around.”

Daisy gave him a thumbs up, focusing on the feeling of air flowing around her. She sped up as she reached the road. She felt as if she was flying high into the air, fighting the laws of physics. On the back roads surrounding the Academy, as familiar as the back of her hand, Daisy relaxed and let herself fall into autopilot.

She heard Mack in her ear, still talking about the bike. She had heard it all before, but there was something centering about listening to Mack retell the evolution of his bike for the hundredth time, like a kid who begged to hear the same bedtime story every night.

It was freeing, speeding down a deserted road on the bike, stars above and pavement below. Pine trees reached for the sky on each side of her. Shrubbery and grass waved to Mack and Daisy as they raced forward.

A slight burn pricked her eyes that she knew wasn’t from the wind. Daisy needed this after a stressful first couple weeks back in class. To be honest, it was what she needed all the time. Daisy was exhausted. Her powers may not be visible, but they were always on, always bouncing around her body. Times like these, though, Daisy felt free. Releasing the constant grip she had on her self-control, she let the vibrations of the engine flow through her. Slowly, surely, Daisy let her guard down. A whispering warble crept into her ears over the wind. She could feel the way the pavement below and the humid late-August air around her absorbed the miniscule quakes, bouncing lightly off the tall trees like a quiet laugh reflecting off the walls of an echo-chamber.

About an hour later, Daisy and Mack were rolling back into the garage. Daisy couldn’t hide the slight redness in her eyes, but the smile on her face told Mack he didn’t need to worry. The pair silently did maintenance on the motorcycles, re-fueling them for later use and checking for any loose parts on Daisy’s.

Daisy headed back to campus, refusing Mack’s offer to walk her back to the dorms. She would be fine on her own. Besides, Jems might be back by now, she could ask about Fitzsimmons’ date. Or she could wait until breakfast tomorrow and tease them both.

Daisy stopped in her tracks. Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow slipped behind a building. Daisy felt her back tense, her hands curling into fists.

Any remainder of twilight light had faded while Mack and Daisy maintenanced the bikes. Daisy couldn’t imagine that any of the trainees that went to parties at the nearby universities were back yet, but no student in their right mind would want to simply walk around the dark campus of the Academy.

She kept walking, more alert. No sounds apart from her steady breathing and the rustle of grass beneath her feet reached her ears. She walked slowly toward where the shadow had disappeared. It looked as if it was headed to the biochem building. Daisy raised her hands, quietly running towards the white building, slightly crouched. She circled it once, twice, before deciding she had been imagining things, the shadow was only a trick of the light. It seemed so real though, so solid…

Daisy shook her head and crossed the courtyard, heading towards the dorms. It was late, and she had important things to do tomorrow. She was probably just tired from her ride with Mack.

Behind her, unnoticed by Daisy, the shadow quickly crossed the field behind the biochem building, slinking into the tallgrass.

The next day, Daisy woke to the sound of her alarm blaring 90’s RnB at six thirty AM, sharp. She quickly shut it off and stared at the ceiling for a moment before groaning and dragging herself out of bed. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night after her encounter with the shadow.

The sun was slowly ascending in the sky, golden light filtering into her windows. It was early, but she didn’t have the energy to go workout. Instead, Daisy stretched on her bed and sent a quick text to Jemma asking to meet up later to gossip about her date.

She grabbed shorts and a cropped sweatshirt, quickly dressing and making her way to the bathroom. She clipped her hair back, brushed her teeth, washed her face and headed back to her room. Trying her best to cover the bruise that had turned from red-violet to a blue-ish tinted black, she did minimal makeup. It’s not like it could get any worse, she thought bitterly. The concealer wasn’t much use.

Deciding to ignore the bruise, Daisy stood up, grabbed her backpack with her personal laptop and journal and headed to the canteen.

There weren’t many students around campus this early in the morning. Most were either asleep or nursing a hangover in their dorms. A few dedicated trainees were scattered amongst the different buildings, either in the gym or studying on their favourite bench. Daisy made a beeline for the canteen, hoping that no one had drank all the fresh coffee yet.

She slipped through the doors, sending small smiles to the students she made eye-contact with, faltering when her roving gaze reached a set of twinkling eyes the color of coffee. Maybe, she thought, I should go over and talk to him. What’s the worst that can happen?

She quickly poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a cinnamon raisin bagel from the pastry cart. Checking to be sure he wasn’t sitting with anyone (she wouldn’t want to intrude), Daisy walked around to the back of the large room, sitting in a spot diagonal from him.

After a few minutes of silence where Daisy ate her bagel and pretended not to feel his eyes on her, she turned and faced him.

“Good morning,” she said.

He dipped his head and raised his paper cup of coffee at the same time in response.

Does he not want to talk to me? Daisy questioned herself. She tried again. “So, is the coffee good?” He glanced at her cup that she had been sipping. Daisy recovered, “You know, in your opinion. I love the coffee here, the slightly burned aftertaste goes well with cream and sugar.΅

To her relief, he smiled. “Yeah, it’s good. I don’t usually use cream or sugar.”

Daisy raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Ah, more of a bare necessities, no-nonsense guy?”

His nose scrunched a little in thought, as if he was assessing his entire personality to see if it aligned with Daisy’s coffee psychology. He nodded finally, elaborating, “I was in the army. Most of us drank it black while deployed. I never got out of the habit. But, to answer your question, I like to think of myself as low maintenance.”

He sent her a small smile that had her insides melting just a bit. Daisy hid behind the rim of her coffee cup, trying to think of a response. Luckily, New Guy saved her.

“How do you drink your coffee?”

Daisy lowered her own paper cup, clearing her throat. “One half and half, just a bit of sugar. If I’m super tired I’ll add more.”

“So you probably adapt easily and have a deep hunger for answers to all your questions?”

Daisy’s eyes quickly flicked down to her coffee, wondering if her coffee order really exposed that much about her. Daniel laughed, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “I’m kidding. I noticed how you’re always in the computer lab before class, and Yo-Yo told me that you use that time to research.”

Daisy felt a blush creep up her neck. Yo-Yo knew New Guy? And gave him information about her schedule?

Daniel quickly explained, “We see each other in the halls a lot. And we have a class together. She noticed me in the lab and thought I knew you.”

Daisy relaxed. Yo-Yo had become increasingly more friendly to strangers the longer she spent at the Academy.

“I remember the first time I met her. She was so angry that SHIELD had stopped her from exposing the police in her city as corrupt. Our team was sent in to help her finish what she had started, destroy weapons and take down the corrupt members of the department. It was fun,” She chuckled.

Daniel watched her through his thin clear-frame glasses. She winced a little as her nose scrunched with laughter, recalling another story about a mission gone awry that Yo-Yo saved.

“How did you get that bruise?”

“What?”

He pointed to the spot on his face that mirrored the position of the bruise on hers. “The bruise. It looks like it hurts.”

Daisy shrugged, “Not as badly as getting shot. But you know, sometimes you punch the bag, sometimes the bag punches you.”

Despite the playful nature of the statement, Daniel couldn’t help but hear alarm bells in the back of his mind. She had been shot?!

Daisy noticed the change in Daniel’s demeanor and switched tactics, “It’s just a bruise. I wasn’t paying attention and the punching bag flew back and hit me in the face.”

Daniel laughed, becoming more and more intrigued with the enigma sitting across from him. Well, at least this enigma was beautiful, even if she had lost a fight to a punching bag.

A look of pure confusion overtook Daisy’s features. “Excuse me?”

Daniel’s face flushed bright red. He said that out loud. Daisy was still smiling though, Daniel let out a nervous chuckle. The two lapsed into an awkward silence. Daisy was finishing her bagel when he spoke up again.

“It was good talking to you,” he said softly.

Daisy’s eyes wandered his face with an unreadable expression. “Yeah, it was.”

He resisted the urge to offer to walk Daisy to wherever she was going as she headed out of the doors of the canteen, coffee with one half and half and pinch of sugar in hand.

————————————————————————————

hi hellooo! whatd you think? comments and notes are appreciated! (will go back and edit this later, for now i sleep)

tag list: @jaanulore

[satrangee-ray]

Meet my MC: About the Past

Inara Hepburn (she/they)

Trigger warnings: Mentions of queerphobia, bullying, loss of family member, sexual harassment.

More below the cut—

All characters and events depicted are fictional, any resemblance to real incidents are purely coincidental. The writer has no intention to throw allegations on, or hurt the sentiments of any community.

Background and family dynamic:

Inara Hepburn was born in 1992 at Los Angeles, California, to Manimala B. Hepburn and Thomas Hepburn, mainly as a last attempt to save their drowning marriage. Their birth merely delayed the inevitable, and two years later Thomas split with Mani for another woman, leaving her free from a toxic and abusive relationship.

Jobless in a big city all on her own, Mani decided to move back to her paternal residence in Kolkata with her two year old, to ensure them a happy and safe life. She took up a teaching job at a government school to cover for their expenses.

Growing up, Inara had a fairly good relationship with their mom, even to the extent of calling her their best friend. This, however, changed drastically when Inara came out to their mom. She was highly disappointed in them for "turning out" the way they did, and she kept searching for means to try and "change" them. Inara, on the other hand, had never felt more misunderstood, and hence, the easy dynamic between the two turned into a rocky one, with both of them dancing around the queer topic for years.

When Inara was 16, she was first diagnosed with anxiety and depression. Unfortunately, her therapist too turned out to be quite tentative in their approval towards her identity. They believed they could make her feel differently with pills and a couple of sessions. Feeling alone in a huge fiasco with no cooperation whatsoever from her family, friends, or doctor, Inara took to flushing pills down the toilet, and channeling all her feelings into journaling in her diary. It was from here that she found an idea forming, and two months into it, she started writing her first novel.

For one and a half years, Inara secretly worked on this novel, pouring her heart and soul out into perfecting every word. Finally, when it was done, Inara asked her mom to give her one last chance to explain everything, and gave her this book to read. Conditions being, no questions should be asked until the entire book has been fully read. Mani agreed, and by the end of it, she was in tears. The book had successfully managed to change all her inhibitions regarding people of different identities. Touched by Inara's talent and dedication, she helped her publish the book under the pen name Indradhanush.

Things had started to change for the better in the Hepburn household. At 21, Inara flew abroad to attend medical school. Four years later, a week before their graduation, they found out that their mom had passed away in a car accident on her way to the airport.

After their mom's demise, their aunt from Northern Irelands re-established proper connection with them, as she was their only parental figure left. Their aunt, uncle and cousin still keep touch with them, through occasional chats or video calls on Whatsapp.

Education and career path:

Inara completed her primary and secondary education from St. Jonathan's Convent, Kolkata (fictional). Throughout her school years Inara was equally good in science and literature. History-geography was not her forte, and the only reason she took up physics-chemistry-bio after her 10th boards along with the compulsory literature subjects is to avoid those two. 

Outside of strict school studies, Inara had always been an inquisitive kid, questioning and introspecting everything in and around them to the degree that people called them crazy. Their mom had a masters in Bengali, hence they grew up in the environment of understanding and appreciating fiction. This led them to write poems and short stories from a very young age. They had almost decided on pursuing a literature based career.

In her school days, Inara was bullied for being "different"; aka both partially white and queer. She found it difficult to fit in, and hence the constant taunts became a part of her childhood trauma. She was also groped and sexually harassed by her math teacher in his office when she was in the 9th grade. Inara and her mom tried to report, but couldn't file a complaint as they were threatened by the said math teacher who held an important position in the church.

After 12th, Inara spent two years pursuing a bachelor's degree in English literature, and writing their second book. But by the first year, she had already encountered her life changing medical book 'Diagnostics Principles' by Dr. Ethan Ramsey (source: her family friend/physician), and her mind about her main career plans had begun to change. As soon as she made a decision, she quit college and took a year off to prepare for a medical entrance examination.

Having obtained a scholarship to study abroad, they took up their seat at a medical school in Boston, and completed their 4 year MBBS course. In the second year, their mom got another book of theirs published, this time a spy thriller, and that too recieved an overwhelming response. No one in their school or college knew it was them, cause it all happened under their pen name.

After graduation, she took up an internship position in Edenbrook Hospital, Boston.

Personal life:

The only best friends Inara had in school were Ayan and Vaani, a family outside of family. They were the ones to always defend her and have her back whenever they would get bullied. Later, Ayan too came out as gay, and Vaani is still questioning her sexuality, but between them three, there are never any judgements. 

Inara fell in love with their classmate Pranani when they were 14, and they dated secretly for 4 years. Pranani's mom was a teacher in the same school and had an influence in the administration. Inara looked up to Pranani's mom a lot, until they realized she was the one to deliberately put them under that math teacher, to replace her own daughter's seat and transfer her to another section. Pranani knew, and did nothing to change it. On being confronted, Pranani tried to gaslight Inara and forcefully kiss her to dissolve the situation. Soon after, Inara broke it off.

Inara always had feelings for Vaani, and they had a short fling in their college days after she confessed. It mutually ended after they realized Vaani wasn't ready to commit, and they were better off as friends.

Inara held a key position in the LGBTQ+ committee of their med university. They ran several campaigns funded by the college over the four years, in and outside of the campus, to spread awareness, as well as aid and advocate for people of the community.

Childhood obsessions timeline— (in order of which one started first, cause none ended till date).

Disney musicals, Barbie movies, Tinker Bell

Akbar-Birbal

Rabindrasangeet 

Sherlock Holmes

Western country music

Bio-chem (started early on, distinguished later, reignited at the start of their medical career)

Agatha Christie

Shakespeare

Queer fanfiction 

Diagnostics Principles :).

About the books:

Phoenix– The first book by Indradhanush, based on an NRI queer couple in California who after several life turmoils find themselves and have a happy ending that the author felt she and her then girlfriend deserved.

The blurry insides of Truth– Second book by Indradhanush, and the last published till date, about a woman whose marriage gets interrupted due to attempted murder of one of her guests on her wedding day. Her to-be husband, a CID officer, stands accused. To what lengths will she go to defend him? Is she really defending him though, or is nobody who they seem to be?

That was my entry people! I had to change the name of my MC's school, because I can't put allegations on any real and existing one.

Hope you got a good insight into the past of my dearest Inara's life.

Tagging: @openheartfanfics @adiehardfan @barbean

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 14

Prompt: “I didn’t mean it”

Part 2 of Hell in Hoth

Read Part 1 here

Read on AO3

The Ground is My Halt

The Force feels wrong. Obi-Wan wrong. Without explaining himself, Anakin breaks out into a run and Rex reacts instantly. The mouth of the tunnel is just ahead, and as they run the figure of Obi-Wan comes into view. His saber is drawn, arms pulled back in the classic opening position of Ataru, which is the first clue that something is wrong.

The second is their old training bond tightening with such force it nearly makes Anakin trip over himself. Master? He says through the bond, and Anakin's chest tightens.

"Obi-Wan?" he yells, trying to get his attention, but his former master's eyes just widen, and his arms go limp. His lightsaber clatters to the ground, and Obi-Wan follows soon after, his lips moving but nothing that Anakin can make out. "Obi-Wan!"

He grabs Obi-Wan by the shoulders and turns him over so he's lying on his back. "I'm fine," Obi-Wan gasps, his pupils blown and glassy. "I'm okay."

Anakin looks up as Cody comes running. "What happened?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing!" Anakin gripes. Obi-Wan's chest is rising and falling shallowly, wheezing with every breath. "It sounds like his lung collapsed." Anakin slips his hand from behind Obi-Wan's back to get a better grip but the dark red that now stains his glove catches him off-guard.

"Turn him," Rex says, also seeing the blood. They carefully flip a half-unconscious Obi-Wan onto his side, and Anakin draws in a breath at the sight of a quickly spreading stain of blood soaking through his parka. He curses under his breath, grabbing his saber and cutting through the material of the coat. What it reveals makes a new rush of anger slip through.

Pieces of fabric-- pieces of his tunic, it appears, though they are bright red instead of beige now-- hang sloppily off a wound in the center of the right side of his back.

"Why didn't you know about this?" Anakin asks Cody, not bothering to filter his annoyance. It's not the commander he's mad at-- it's his dumbass master who definitely tried to hide this without telling his companion.

"I don't... I don't know, sir," Cody says, muted. Anakin immediately regrets his tone, but he has no time to deal with that. From the blue tinge of his lips, Obi-Wan may not have time.

"We need to get him back to the ship!" He grabs Rex's busted commlink and pulls his own off his wrist. It was also broken in their fall, but Anakin assumes there are enough parts between the four of them to do a quick fix. It takes him only a few minutes to rewire the comlink, using the intact speaker of his and the localizer of Rex's. He hands it back to Rex. "Call for evac."

__________

It doesn't take long for the med unit to reach them in the ice lab. Cody stands out of the way, watching a Kix and Helix carefully load General Kenobi onto a stretcher and strap an oxygen mask across his pale face. Skywalker is pacing, and Rex is running alongside Kix, probably explaining the situation.

That should be me giving the brief, Cody muses, following behind them. I was with him.

Skywalker's harsh tone hit Cody harder than he expected it to. Usually, he is immune to the curt words of the temperamental Jedi, but the intensity he looked at him is what seems to be weighing on him. The slanted stare that is usually directed at their enemies suddenly aimed at him.

He's scared, Cody reminds himself. It's quite obvious that the Jedi aren't always good at practicing what they preach, and the Hero-Without-Fear or whatever the holonet likes to call Skywalker have obviously never met the kid. When it comes to Kenobi or Tano, there is only fear. Understandably so. Even Cody was thrust into a panic when he saw his general crumble. He didn't know if there were enemies hiding somewhere and managed to snipe him, or if the lab had been rigged. But now, the wound was already scantily dressed, and now Cody just keeps racking his brain as to what could have happened.

Why didn't you know about this?

They were falling. The ship became unbalanced and they fell from what felt like one end to the other. Cody knows Kenobi managed to use the Force to cushion his fall, but maybe... maybe he didn't use it for himself?

It sounds preposterous, but a part of him isn't surprised. General Kenobi is well known for having more regard for others than himself. Even when it comes to the clones. No matter how dispensable they are by principle, he never cared. It's why he's so respected, so fiercely beheld by his men.

Cody wonders how they would react if he didn't come back. They're in the evac ship, crowded around the stretcher while Kix and Helix try their best to stuff sterile bandages into the wound. Skywalker stands in the corner, arms crossed and face hardened, but his eyes are unfocused. He is somewhere else entirely right now. Rex puts a hand on Cody's shoulder but says nothing. Cody prefers it that way. If General Kenobi doesn't come back, it would be his fault. He knows that.

Everything happens in a blur. They get back on the ship and General Kenobi is whisked away before the gunship even has a chance to fully land. The urgency of their actions doesn't escape Cody. He watches them solemnly as they disappear in the direction of the medbay.

Focus, he shakes away the thoughts of Kenobi on the operating table. The mission. The lab. A science lab in the middle of Hoth is not something they see every day, and he suspects it can't be for a good reason. The blood was proof enough of that.

Distracting himself will do him some good, The least he can do is his duty. He heads to the bridge to deliver the scan of the lab to report to the Jedi council.

"Commander," a voice rings out hesitantly. Cody stops and turns to see General Skywalker standing a few meters away. He salutes.

"General, what can I do for you?"

Skywalker walks up to him, his eyes seeming to attempt to gauge his emotions, but buckets don't show emotions and Cody is thankful for that.

"What did you find in that tunnel? What was all that?" His tone is more sedate now. More normal but still obviously filled with worry.

"A lab, I believe sir. I'm about to take our findings up for briefing if you would like to join me."

Skywalker nods, and they start walking to the bridge. Cody can feel the strange tension around them-- he doesn't have to be Force-sensitive to pick up on that fact. Maybe Skywalker is still cross with him. Blames him for what happened. Cody looks down at his comm, expecting a blinking light containing an update on Kenobi's condition. His commlink remains stagnant.

"I uh," the general says, quietly at first. "I'm sorry, Cody. I was worried about Obi-Wan and... I didn't mean it."

An apology is not what he expected. Cody looks at him, not exactly sure what to say here. "No apologies, sir, I should have been more vigilant."

Skywalker scoffs. "Now you sound like him. Really, though. It wasn't your fault. He's pulled that stunt on me more than once. I don't know where he got so good at hiding stuff like this."

"I hear it's the secret to becoming a master," Cody says without really thinking about who he is talking to. It's a joke he has with the med crew because of the Jedi's propensity for recklessness-- and now he's just said it to Skywalker. I've been spending too much time around General Kenobi... Cody stiffens, looking at the Jedi Knight expecting a new reason for anger, but instead, he's smiling.

"Didn't realize you had jokes, Commander," he laughs.

"Senses of humor are part of our programming, sir."

It's a pleasant diversion as they reach the bridge. The Jedi council is already on the holo, and Cody's moment of relief is renewed by the many pairs of eyes that now watch him and Skywalker carefully. Cody sets the holoscan into the projector and begins his impromptu presentation of their findings.

__________

When Obi-Wan awakes, there is a tube in his chest and a mask over his face. His body is sore and still feels like it's defrosting. He reaches up to take off the mask, but his goal is stopped by the hand of his former padawan obstructing his pathing.

"Not yet," he says, and Obi-Wan begrudgingly lets his hand fall back to his side. "You are on O2 therapy for another ten minutes."

"What happened?" he asks, his words muffled significantly by the oxygen mask but Anakin seems to pick it up well enough.

"Oh I don't know, why don't you tell me? And while we're at it, we can discuss your field-medic abilities because honestly, Obi-Wan, they're horrendous." Anakin sighs, his emotion deflating. "You had a puncture wound that shattered one of your ribs. It was fine until you irritated it and a piece of your rib punctured your lung and caused some internal bleeding."

"Oh," is all he can say in response. That all sounds about right.

"That's not all," Anakin says. "The lab. We tested the blood on the floor and..." he lets out a deep breath. "It had a midi-chlorian count, Master."

Now Obi-Wan is determined. He reaches up, ignoring Anakin's pleas to leave the mask alone. He needs him to hear this clearly. "We must find Jenna Zan Arbor."

Anakin winces at the name. Rightfully so, she captured and poisoned him with a horrible drug that basically entrapped him within his own mind.

"How do you know?"

He slips the mask down to his chin. There's no point now. "I don't know if it's her or a copycat, but she's done this before," he swallows hard. "On Qui-Gon. Bloodlet him so he would have to use the Force to preserve himself."

Anakin takes a deep, labored breath at that information, sitting back in the chair beside Obi-Wan's bed. His gaze is far away, no doubt in the remembrance of his experience under her spell. Zan Arbor tends to have that effect on them-- suddenly they are padawans once again, trying hard to defeat an enemy that is not so easily beat with the blade of a lightsaber. The worst part of the delusional scientist is that she is cunning. She escaped the prison Obi-Wan helped put her in and has proceeded to evade them ever since.

Obi-Wan puts the mask over his mouth and nose once again, taking a moment to replenish himself.

"So we find her?"

"Yes, I believe that is our next step."

Though neither of them says it, they both know the thoughts of the other: this is not going to be an easy reunion.

[giorno-plays-piano]

One Of A Kind

Pairing: yandere!Steve x Reader.  Warnings: obsession, graphic depiction of violence, death of minor characters, unstable skinny Steve.  Words: 1963.  Summary: the ones hunting your family knew nothing of a monster in human shape lurking behind your back.  Ps. I’ve finally decided to choose Steve for this one. Thanks to everyone who participated in the discussion!  _____________________________________  Steve was an odd kid. Well, technically, he wasn’t much of a kid - he had already turned 18 - but with his extremely skinny built he looked younger to you. You knew his mother fell very sick when she was pregnant with him, and it explained a lot about his physique. It wasn’t his physical health that troubled you, though.

He was really into this military stuff, secret operations, death traps, serial killer hunting, things that guys of his age were not often interested in. Not to this extent, at least. His room was full of war history books, documentaries, scary posters with roaring bears, his own drawings of knives, guns, grenades and things like that. Steve didn’t talk much, and sometimes he even preferred gestures to communicate with others. You thought that maybe his anger manifested itself in this way. You didn’t even want to imagine how severely Steve had been bullied at school before moving here. Thankfully, most of the time he was really sweet to you, smiling shyly, helping you out with the choirs and trying to adjust to living together. Your dad married his mother a month ago, and now you all moved into a new house, pretending to be an average happy family.

Except for Steve’s disturbing hobbies, it wasn’t that bad, actually. You were slowly getting accustomed to the presence of someone other than your father, having nice family dinners together, going to shop with your stepmom who was always treated you nicely, playing cards with Steve in the evenings… You could get used to it. One of the hardest things was trying to think of Steve as your younger brother because you just didn’t feel like it. You were growing closer and closer with each day, true, but to consider him your relative wasn’t that easy. Maybe you couldn’t accept him this way at all. Maybe him just being your friend would be enough.

The first day you moved into a new house your stepmother asked you to keep an eye on him when she wasn’t around. She said something about his health – he needed to take his meds every day – and pleaded you to forgive Steve if he would be rude to you. She asked you not to tell anything to your father. It was surprising, considering the fact you dad wasn’t really strict or unkind, but everyone had their fears, right? In the end, you meant the world to your him. She was afraid he would hardly tolerate her son’s bad attitude towards you.

Anyway, you knew your father wanted you to became closer to Steve, and you did the best you could. At the end of the month it was you bringing him his medication every evening, not his mom. You were wishing him goodnight and turning off the lights in his room as if you truly were his older sister, and he was more and more willing to spend time with you. As the time passed, Steve didn’t seem so scary to you anymore. He was just a poor kid mistreated by people.

It all changed when those men showed up in your house one morning. They were heavily armed, black balaclavas concealing their faces, their beefy figures advancing upon your father. The next moment he was laying dead in the hall. The blood gushing from the hole in his chest quickly covered the grey floor you had only washed yesterday.

Steve’s mother was the next one after a man asked her something and was not satisfied with her answer, apparently. You heard the gun firing in the kitchen, and you knew what had happened to her. But the only thing you did was staring at the floor covered in your father’s blood, your body frozen to the point you forgot how to breathe.

They were dead. They were dead, and you were all alone in the house with five murderers. The only reason why you were still alive was because they simply didn’t see you standing on the top of the stairs.

No, you were not alone. You had Steve. You needed to get him out of the house before these men caught you.

“Get the kids!” Somebody yelled from the kitchen, and you ran without thinking.

Steve’s room. Steve’s room. In the end of the corridor. To the left.

Somebody was already following you with such speed you could hardly outrun him. You didn’t dare to glance back, but you knew it was a large tall man with a knife or something like that in his hand instead of a gun because he didn’t shoot you outright. He would either kill or rape you in the next 10 seconds. Maybe he would kill you once the leader got whatever he wanted from you.

“STEVE!”

You jumped to the door and suddenly fell onto blue carpet in his room, Steve standing right in front of you with something in his hand. You blinked and heard the loud steps of a man behind you.

“Help me!”

Your head was not working properly, panic ruling over you now. Why did you ask him for help? What could tiny Steve do against a 6’5 feet tall armed man who was obviously not some rookie robber? It would take at least several policemen to bring him down, not a scared to death girl with shaking hands and a kid skinny as a rail.

Then you heard a weird bubbling sound somewhere behind your back and saw Steve’s black boots moving instantly. Why was he wearing his combat boots in the house? And, more importantly, did he just throw something at the man?

Crawling further to the opposite wall, you didn’t dare to turn around until you felt the boy’s gentle hand pulling you up with a strength you never expected from him. His sickly-sweet smile was now gone, one of his hands covered in blood and clenching a small knife, the other holding your arm. You looked at his unnaturally calm expression, all emotions wiped from his face.

“I will help.” He said quietly and moved to the door, punching the man’s legs to the side to close it.

Then you finally saw the intruder laying down on the floor and not moving. Did Steve knock him out? Did he throw the knife at him once he entered? The pool of blood under his face was growing so much you realized Steve must have cut his throat right after that.

There was no time for second thoughts when the boy motioned you to the open window. He got on the red roof first and helped you to come down, then jump right into the bushes. You were shaking feverishly, understanding absolutely nothing but following Steve to the forest without a word. At that moment he was godlike to you, your protector, your saviour, the one who had just saved your life. You didn’t ask where he got the knife or how he managed to kill that big guy. Nothing else mattered than your survival.

The next moment you were fully conscious the two of you were somewhere in the woods, Steve wandering around some garbage and fiddling with rusted metal and pieces of rope. He had bandaged your leg that you scratched badly while clawing your way through the bushes. Where did he get the bandages? You looked around and saw a first-aid kit on the ground near you. When did he?..

Now watching him you thought Steve was way too collected. His face betrayed no emotion when he placed a plank with long nails in the grass. Then he pulled the string somewhere close to the fallen tree, setting some kind of a trap. You could not comprehend what he was doing.

You reached down the pocket of your shorts instinctively, searching for anything that might help. Instead you found one of Steve’s white pill cases with his meds. You often carried them with you not to forget to give him a few every evening.

When he suddenly touched your arm you almost jumped, shivering and letting out a gurgling sound. The boy was standing in front of you and gazing at the pill case in your hand.

“Your… your meds.” You mumbled under your breath. “For the evening. You’ll be ok.”

He smiled, rubbing your shoulders with his unbearably hot hands dirtied with dry blood. For some reason Steve looked happy as if you two were not in the middle of the woods, chased by fi… four murderers. Why was he so calm? He heard the gun twice; he knew his mother was dead.

When you watched him as he took your hand again and pulled you forward, you saw him wearing his black jacket, t-shirt and tactical pants. Why? He didn’t plan to go anywhere this morning; it was Sunday. When did he get dressed? Did he do it when he heard the men coming? But it happened in the matter of two minutes maximum. Did he start gathering his things once he heard the first shot?..

“Steve.” You felt tears streaming down your face when you saw an old metal bear trap close to one of the multiple trails on the forest glade.

He pointed his finger to the other places around, and you saw snares and ropes everywhere.  

“Steve.” You repeated weakly, thinking of everything that happened. You were ready to cry. “They’re dead. Our p-parents… These people will kill us too.”

In a second, he let go of your arm and stepped closer to you, his hands now on the sides of your face. His hollow eyes stared at you sharply. Opening his mouth wide, Steve pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof that way you could see and then exhaled slowly. After that he closed his mouth and inhaled through the nose for a few times. You realized you were repeating after him – he was teaching you to control your breath. Steve was helping you to calm down.

You were breathing with him for a few minutes until you felt your heartbeat returning to normal.

“If you want my protection,” he said calmly, touching the lock of your hair, “I will protect you.”

You squeezed his hand in yours, staring him into the eyes. You only realized now something was very wrong with Steve. He acted nearly… inhuman. He wasn’t bothered by the death of his parents. He wasn’t frightened like any sane person would be in a situation like this. No, instead he planned how to get rid of those guys, setting death traps right before your eyes. He made them so thoroughly and so fast as if it weren’t his first time setting them. And where on Earth did he get a real bear trap?

Something was telling you he was far more dangerous than any of those men breaking into your house. You had never asked his mother what mental issues he had, right? You had never found out what his meds were for. Were they really just for helping him to calm down before going to bed? Why was his mother always keeping him in her sight? Why had his hobbies always involved depiction of extreme violence?

You bit on your lip and looked at Steve’s face. Whoever he might be, he was your only savior. So be it. If it was the only way to survive, to avenge your parents slaughtered like pigs, so be it. Whatever he would do, these people deserved it.

“I want it, Steve.” You whispered to him, gently rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

He gave you one of his sweet smiles in return and showed you the safe path on a glade full of his traps, guiding you by the hand.

[saundraswriting]

Hercules Chapter 10

SUMMARY:  Spencer finally talks. and listens. Really listens. The curtain falls, the end is here.

WARNINGS: None this time around, hasty writing maybe?

NOTES: This is my final chapter of this story. I finished it, finally. Thanks for coming with me on this ride. 

You can read this chapter on AO3 here as well. 

Masterlist // Ao3 // Previous Chapter

"Derek, what I mean by that is...I know I love you. I told that we would talk when we ended this case." Spencer paused. "I have been thinking a bit since then."

"I figured. Spencer, I don't want you rushing this. You can take your time. We waited this long, what is a little longer?" Derek said.

"What?" Spencer froze under Derek's hand.

"No! Relax. I meant I want you sure of what you think of my feelings. I know you, I know that is what you've been thinking about. You are predictable sometimes." Derek soothed. Spencer sighed and nodded, agreeing silently with Derek.

"You're right. I should take some more time. I just..."Spencer trailed off.

"Spencer. You have only had a few days to understand I am in love with you. I know it seems sudden and that in itself makes you unsure but I mean it. I love you, your brains, your quirks, your habits. All of it." Derek told him. "Come on let's get ready for bed. I'll be here in the morning. And everyday after that." Derek guided Spencer to his feet watching him shuffle unsteadily towards the bathroom. "No shower tonight, Spencer. I don't want you falling in."

"You could always join me to make sure I don't fall." Spencer said, tone light and teasing.

"Don't tempt me. I would like nothing more right now but you aren't ready for that. I don't want to catch your cold either." Derek made a waving motion, shooing Spencer.

Spencer got in the bathroom and started brushing his teeth, thinking over what Derek said. It was no mystery to each other that they loved each other. 'Is it still all because of timing? He does love me, but Derek isn't one to pine in secret.' Spencer shook his head and finished brushing his teeth.

Spencer came back out dressed in pj's, and more than a little determined. "Derek, have you really loved me all this time? I just can't get my head around that. You are telling me that even though you have only been with girls, that in a convenient plot twist you are into not just guys but specifically me." Spencer said. Derek sighed and braced himself for more half understood statements.

"Spencer, if you really want to talk about this right now, then we will but you have to listen to me. I mean really listen. I don't want anymore of you assuming how I feel so that you can keep ignoring me." Derek started sitting on his bed, hand clasped between his knees.

Spencer sat at the top of his bed, fidgeting with a pen. "Okay. I want to have this discussion, so I will sit and listen, and when you are done...I'll talk or I won't. I can't guarantee anything. I wish I could."

"I know. I wouldn't expect more than what you could give, pretty boy. Are you ready?" Derek asked. Spencer gazed around the room and took one deep breath tensing before locking eyes with Derek and nodding.

"We are soulmates, yes. I have been looking for years. Always felt like they were so close but just out of reach. I extended my dating pool, starting asking friends for numbers. I had spent too much time alone, I wanted who was supposed to be mine. I joined the BAU. I kept searching all the while the feeling got worse and worse. I started leaving my mark uncovered a long time ago, hoping it would be what led them to me. Then you came. Slowly over time, the feeling got better, I thought I had maybe gotten over my issues. I didn't give up but I wasn't running towards them anymore, I was happy. I had coworkers and a job and friends I loved, I had enough. I had you. We had grown so close, I had never had a friend as close as you. Every time you got into trouble my heart stopped and I remember thinking to myself...'this is it, this is when I end up alone again.' And each time by the skin of your teeth you came back to me. Each time I loved you a little more, wanted you a little closer. I still didn't know that I loved you. I wanted my best friend around always. I slowed down dating. I didn't need a girl in my life if I had you. You smiling and laughing and happy became more important to me than finding my soulmate, I had just about given up. A few months back we suddenly went from practically living in the other's pocket to being 6 feet apart and I could barely reach you, you were slipping past my fingers and my heart was breaking and I didn't know how to fix it. I too stepped back, maybe I was the problem. Maybe something happened and you needed space. I was fine. If you were happy I wouldn't care but you weren't. I could tell. I wanted to say something, it was getting to be unbearable. I wanted my best friend back." Derek's voice broke. He paused a minute, staring at his hands. He took a breath. "Then before I could blink we were busy so busy and I wanted to talk. I needed to talk. There wasn't time. Next thing I know I am looking into a mirror and see my little sun peering back at me. It wasn't fully uncovered but there was enough, and I had seen mine every day for years. I know what it looks like. In an instant everything fell into place. My thoughts and feelings and emotions and reactions. They all made sense. I was happy because my soulmate was finally in my life. I fell in love with my soulmate. It might have taken years and we traveled the long way to get here but we did. I found you, Spencer Reid, my soulmate.:" Derek ended his speech with a voice full of emotion and shoulder tense.

Spencer could only stare at his best friend, his soulmate, mouth gaping. "You are dead serious. You aren't even near joking." Was all Spencer could say. He rubbed a hand over his face tension leaving his body. "Derek Morgan, I should hit you. There is no reason we should be in this predicament."

Derek could only stare, he felt that he was miles behind in the conversation.

"I am sorry, Derek. I was scared. I didn't know what to do when I found out that we were soulmates. I panicked and thought distance would help but it seemed to only make things worse. I am a coward and I am sorry. I will say that I believe you. In all my years, no one has ever been as close to me as you. I wouldn't change that for the world. I am glad it is you Derek." Spencer said. He tried to say something else but was cut off by a yawn.

"Come on, genius. You need to take some meds and sleep. Let's get to bed. We can talk more tomorrow. Don't you worry. I'll be right here, like always." Derek helped Spencer get settled and then laid down himself.

"Thank you Derek. See you in the morning. Good night." Spencer snuggled down into his pillows, head filled with thoughts on Derek's confession.

The next morning, Spencer woke up coughing up mucus from deep in his throat. He rolled over choking slightly before finding a tissue. He blinked a few times before the memory of the night came back. 'He really means all that doesn't he? Like Derek didn't fall in love with me a few days ago. He realized he has been in love with me for year a few days ago. I need to see J.J.' Spencer saw it was a little bit before his alarm decided to get ready and get in the shower.

Spencer was just finishing getting ready when Derek was getting up. "Pretty boy, you up already?" Derek mumbled. Spencer stepped over and deciding in that moment to be a little daring pressed a kiss to Derek's cheek. Derek froze, eyes fluttering shut.

"My medication wore off so I woke a bit earlier than I wanted but it worked out in the end. You wanna get ready and I'll get breakfast?" Spencer asked. He tried to act cool and collected but he knew his voice shook ever so slightly. He needed more time to think but he needed to let Derek know that he was regarding everything in a positive light too.

"How about you order something nearby to go? I don't want you to go and come back. I usually am the first one up, this is different." Derek stood up stretching, getting his stuff to get ready. "I shouldn't be long. I took a shower after you fell asleep last night." Derek said through the shut door. Spencer didn't respond, he knew Derek knew he heard him and that he was busy ordering food for them and J.J. too.

"J.J. I am ordering food. The three of us can pick it up on the way in this morning." Spencer called her. She agreed and told him she'd be at their room soon.

All too soon the three of them were at the precinct with the others trying to figure out the last few pieces of the puzzle.

"Are we sure he said Evan Lafferty? We know that is his name?" J.J. asked.

"Yeah. That is what Spencer said it was and what the wire recorded. Spencer wrote down everyone's name that he could memorize and You took a few pictures yourself, J.J." Hotch said.

"Evan Lafferty doesn't exist in Portland, OR. Or at least this one doesn't." Penelope chimed in from the speaker. "I have no parameters for a search either except the manual one Spencer and Derek did a few days ago. I can look into that?" She continued.

"No, we have him. We don't need to look for him. Can you look for all Evan Lafferty's right now Penelope? I know it is a lot but it is all we have." Gideon gave her a few more details to help refine her search but everyone knew that a result would be a while coming.

"What if...What if I called him? He gave me his number? It is probably untraceable but I am fitting for the next killing. The Stymphalian Birds with their bronze beaks and such, a sickly estranged lonely man with the name Arnett Konkle would be the best man for the elites' meetings." Spencer gained traction as he spoke. The others looked at each other, defeat in their eyes.

"Let's see if we can get anywhere by tomorrow if not then we will consider your plan, Reid. But until that is the last resort we will pursue other avenues. I don't want to use out trump card yet." Gideon said.

The team broke off to do their jobs but Spencer followed J.J. towards her make-shift office. "J.J. Can I talk to you for a second?" Spencer sat down, shoulders slumped and head bowed.

"Of course, Spencer you know that. What is going on in that head of yours?" J.J. made herself comfortable.

"Derek and I talked last night and I made a pretty important distinction. I want your advice on it, if you don't mind. I know that you know everything about Derek and I. Last night Derek talked to me about how he felt, I asked him to considering I never really let him say anything before I would shut him down. He told me everything last night J.J. He told me how he was giving up on finding a soulmate because the drive wasn't there anymore. He was happy with his life because I was there. I realized that seeing that my soulmate mark matched his didn't cause Derek to love me, it caused him to evaluate our relationship and realize he has loved me for years, he just didn't know that because he didn't need to evaluate were we stood to each other." Spencer told her. No matter how much he tried, Spencer couldn't keep the joy and relief out of his voice or face.

J.J. felt her heart swell, She saw Spencer as a baby brother and she was happy he was getting his final ending. "That is great news. I am glad you two talked. The tension was killing me. Now what?"

"I don't know. We didn't get that far. I am thinking we will cross that bridge when we come to it back home. Derek and I will have to show that we can work together and not let the fact we are soulmates affect the way we do our jobs. Which shouldn't be too hard considering we have kept it hidden from Hotch and Gideon this entire time. I would rather we talk about the future closer to home anyways." Spencer explained.

J.J. nodded. "That makes sense. Besides Derek is a traditionalist and romantic at heart, he wouldn't ask you hard questions on a job here. Let it be. You'll have your moment eventually." J.J. sighed deeply.

"You'll have your moment too. I know it." Spencer told her. He was interrupted from continuing by Derek.

Penelope got a hit on the phone, at almost every single spot on your map. No we just need to find him. We have plenty of evidence. We just need a way for him to come out." Derek said. They hurried to the bull pen where Gideon and Hotch were.

"I'll call him. I will tell him that I need a prayer circle for I was diagnosed with lung cancer. WE can have a unit go to the last place the phone is pinging and the warehouse and I can go with a small team to meet him and when he does..." Spencer shrugged.

"Are you sure that is a good idea?" Hotch said.

"It's the only idea we have right now. We need to get this guy." Spencer was determined. He wanted to get this unsub and get home and get better.

"Very well. J.J. and I will go with him and a few beat cops will be around the location under cover if they can. Hotch, Derek take a team like Reid said." Derek opened his mouth to object but Spencer subtly shook his head. "We have once chance. Spencer make the call." Gideon ordered. He and the others scattered. Spencer went into his map room and called the number Evan Lafferty gave him.

"Evan? It is my Arnett? Mr. Arnett Konkle. I've been having a rough day. I got some bad news on every front today and was wondering f we could meet. I think I need to turn my face toward the sun, for the old gods are not dead. I hope with proper education from you I can worship them as they would like to be but right now I need a friend and I need a teacher." Spencer told him. "My wife, she gave me the divorce papers today. Then my results came back for some tests. There is a mass near my lung. I-" Spencer's voice broke.

"Arnett, calm down. take a few deep breaths. Of course you and I can meet. I will gladly be that friend and teacher for you. I believe with proper dedication, you will be healed. You are on the steps to enlightenment, for you are correct. The old gods are not dead." Evan gave him and address and a time to meet. Spencer came out of his map room, information in hand. A techie stepped up to meet him, the same one who helped him get ready before.

Dressed like Arnett Konkle, Spencer quickly asked for a copy of divorce papers in a briefcase and gathered with the team again. They came up with a plan. They needed to take down Lafferty quickly and quietly. The three teams divided and left, Derek pulling Spencer into a hug, murmuring comforting words against his hair. Spencer was still unsure who that was to reassure, him or Derek. Spencer's team scattered through the park trying to look indiscreet. After a bit Lafferty joined Spencer at the table he was sitting at who was looking justifiably morose.

"Konkle, good golly, you could look a little better but after the couple of days you've had, I would look terrible too. Anyway, What did you want to start with?" Lafferty asked. He pulled out a bag with a few books.

"Let's begin with Hercules shall we? We were in the middle of a lovely discussion." Spencer said.

"Oh, okay. We can go over some of the lessons I use for my sermons. Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?" Lafferty began flipping through the pages.

"Let's talk about how you can atone for the temporary madness of killing your family by completing 13 divine missions for gods of an ancient religion." Spencer said. He stood up pulling out his badge and gun, hoping that Lafferty wouldn't run.

"I am doing it for it was divine instructions. I was helpless to resist. How dare you spit in the face of my suffering." Lafferty reared back and tried to attack Spencer, lunging at him from across the table. Spencer dodged. Lafferty took off running though the park but didn't get far before an undercover officer clotheslined him rendering him unconscious.

Spencer heaved a deep sigh, triggering a coughing fit that dropped him to his knees. He coughed until he was dizzy, black spots appearing in his vision the last thing he saw was J.J.'s panicked face before he blacked out.

Spencer knew two things as soon as he came to. First was he was in a hospital. Second was Derek was angry with him. Spencer opened his eyes to be right on both parts. He was in a hospital and Derek was glaring at him angerly while leaning against a wall.

"I didn't mean to?" Spencer tried. Derek only huffed rolling his eyes. "Sorry." he tried again.

"I would be lying if I said I was surprised. I figured once you got sick, we would end up here. It's the emergency room. You are getting some antibiotics and fluids. Nothing too major, I wanted to be pissed off but I am just happy you weren't hurt. We got him though. He house and the warehouse were loaded with incriminating evidence. So all is well that end's well I guess." Derek shrugged.

"Always the same though. A little too late. If I had been a bit better, then maybe we would've been quicker." Spencer said. "Never mind, hindsight is always 20/20 and all that." Spencer smiled up at Derek. "What happens now?"

"Now? You have another hour at least before your bag is finished. Then we go home. Where we both are off for the next two weeks for your recovery. I called Strauss and told her everything and then the others told her that we definitely proved that our soulmate status doesn't affect our work. So nothing really changes." Derek explained.

"Except everything." Spencer told him.

Derek laughed. "Except everything. That's right, pretty boy, that's right."

*******************************************************************************************

That is all she wrote folks. I hope you enjoyed the ride, I certainly did. Thank you for all the support. I love you all. I hope to write more in this universe but we will see. Until next time!

[littleredlie]

Intervention (S1P4)

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Chicago Med x doctor!OC Morgan Fitzgerald is a doctor at Chicago Medical and she returns back after a two week break. However, we learn that she didn’t spend her entire break off and instead focused on her sister’s murder.  Based off S1E11 of Chicago Med

2.3k+ Words (Short chapter)

Featuring: Morgan Fitzgerald, Hayden Everett (mentioned), Will Halstead, Maggie Lockwood, Connor Rhodes, Kevin Atwater, Adam Ruzek, Jay Halstead (mentioned), Sarah Reese Warning:  mentions of rape and murder, idk what else ??? A/N: Yikes, I started writing this chapter and ended up writing the next chapter so I had to write the end of this one and the beginning of part 5. This part was hard to write because the episode didn’t have much action to put Morgan in and so I made it a kind of Morgan-centric episode. It’s very shot, I had no idea what I was doing. Part 5 is better and I’ve already started part six. Sorry in advance. And we will never talk about this chapter again.

Part Three

“Hey Morgan, welcome back.”

“Hey Mags, how’re you?” Morgan tosses her stethoscope around her neck and picks up a few papers sitting on the desk.

“Nope, nada. I wanna hear how your vacation went. You’re gone for two weeks and not a single person hears from you. You do not deserve to hear about any work drama until you spill.”

“I think you are being overdramatic. And not that you need to know, but Connor heard from me,” Morgan shrugs, not daring to look at the nurse. Maggie had an eyebrow raised and was giving her a look; it was similar to the one she did during Jay and the doctor’s interaction.

“You two really have history don’t you?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for almost 15 years. He knew my sister first, but he and I were just closer.” At the mention of her sister, Maggie sends her friend a soft but the latter still isn’t looking. “And we made this ridiculous promise while we were drunk about how we were always gonna be there for each other, and yet, neither of us have broken that promise.” Morgan is quiet for a second as she thinks about the time she and Connor had as friends, but then she moves on. Like she always does when it comes to her personal life. She never lingers on it long enough for people to try and figure her out. “My vacation though was very quiet. Hayden and I drove up to a resort  up north and rented a cabin. We skied, went to spas, ate luxurious food. She had to leave for an assignment early so I just relaxed and did a little research too.”

“So you went all the way to a resort just to work, eventually.”

“The work’s never done Maggie,” with that Morgan leaves with a smile, heading to   the first patient of her day. Maggie just watches her receding back.

Before Morgan can make it into her assigned examination room, someone walks up to her, placing a gentle hand on her lower back.

“Hey Fitz,” Connor says, a small smile on his face.

“Fitz? No one’s called me that since med school,” she chuckles fully stopping to look at him. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to welcome you back. You look good.”

“Yeah, I guess time off was vital. But I have to know,” she pauses, the anticipation building and Connor waiting. “Does everyone know about Olivia? I’d suspect everyone would come to you for some clarification.”

Connor pauses, contemplating whether or not to spew out a white lie. It was true a few people came and prodded for the truth. And he briefly heard whispered conversations among colleagues before they would stop when he got near, but he knew what the topic was. Connor also knew how private Morgan was. She always had been, and after Olivia’s death she just became more closed off. But she also didn’t like being lied to. “Yeah, people know. I’ve tried to handle it, but it has its own life.”

“I guess it’s okay. I just…. I don’t know.” She shrugs and Connor rests his hands on her upper arms.

“Will you be okay?” His voice is sincere and Morgan wants to hug him, but maybe not right now.

“I will be,” at that Connor is about to pull away but Morgan stops him. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for being a bitch before I left. You know how my family gets me.”

“I understand. I do. And I’ll always give you the space you need.”

“Yeah, I know. But I probably shouldn’t push away my best friend. I need you, especially now.”

Connor pulls Morgan into a quick hug and is going to say something but a commotion arises from the ambulance bay.

“Dr. Rhodes, can you get this, please?” The two doctors pull apart and turn to the pleading charge nurse. “We’re slammed.” 

“I’m on it!” He answers back and throws a ‘talk later’ look to Morgan over his shoulder.

She nods back to him and finally turns her direction to her primary goal. With notes open about the patient on the tablet and a smile on her face, Dr. Fitzgerald returns to work.

          ❦

Three hours later, Morgan is on a roll. Treating patients as quickly and efficiently as she could. She had seen her usual coworkers, except Will. She may or may not have been avoiding him. And it was about to get easier, because after her lunch break she was heading up the OBGYN. She loved emergency medicine, but always felt that there weren’t enough available people in the emergency room that specialized in the field. Just like Connor was pursuing cardiothoracic surgery and Natalie was focused on emergency pediatrics, Morgan focused on obstetric and gynecology emergencies. It interested her just as much as emergency medicine did and after losing a pregnant patient when she first got her match, the choice came easy to her.

“Dr. Fitzgerald.” Maggie calls, pulling the doctor in her direction.

“Yes ma’am. What can I do for you?” Morgan leans her body on the desk as the ensuing chaos of the emergency room flutters around them.

“I just need a signature here for your last patient’s discharge papers.” 

“No problem.” Morgan pulls out a pen from her pocket and signs the paperwork. During this, Will siddles up to her. Maggie notices first and wants to usher him away, since she (along with everyone) noticed that Morgan was ignoring him, but the redhead ignored the nurse’s glares and he turned to Morgan, who still hadn't noticed that he was there.

“Morgan.”

Morgan’s plump lips fold into a thin line as a breath catches in her throat, she was avoiding this. Slowly placing the pen back into her jacket, she finally lays her eyes on him. “Dr. Halstead.”

“It’s good to see you back.” He starts, trying to catch her eyes which were fluttering around the hospital floor, evading. “I was hoping we co–” a ringtone interrupts his words and Morgan notices it’s coming from her. She breathes out a sigh of relief when she pulls it out. It may have been petty, but she wanted to stay angry at him a little longer. 

“Sorry, I have to take this.” Without a response, she answers the phone without looking at who it is, and walks away. “Hey, are you here?” She asked.

“Yeah, we’re in the parking garage, top floor.” His answer beckons her to start walking to the hospital employee parking lot.

“We?” Morgan questioned. 

“Yeah, Adam’s here.”

“Kevin!” She screeches, annoyance bubbling inside her. There was a reason she didn’t ask for Adam’s help.

“He’s my partner Morg, I couldn’t blow him off.” Kevin answers back and she pushes out an agitated sigh.

“Ugh, whatever. I’ll be up there in a few.” Morgan hands up and stuffs her cellphone back into her lab coat pocket.

The weather isn’t bad when Morgan hikes herself up to the top of the parking garage.  She can see the two policemen leisurely enjoying a cup of coffee.  She’d met Kevin years ago through his younger brother Jordan. The younger kid ended up in the hospital and Morgan was the one to treat him. They got to talking, found out they had some things in common, and it was one of the closest connections she made when she first moved out here and after Olivia’s death. Dating wasn’t an option between them, the way the two cared for each other was something close to two siblings and again, the fact that she dated Jay wasn’t helping. She didn’t want to dip her toe into the police dating pool again.

Morgan knew Adam through Kevin and Jay. And she made the mistake of introducing Adam to her roommate. Those two were quite the pair. Hayden used him as an inside source when it came to her articles and he used her to do things that he as a police officer legally couldn’t do (Morgan wasn’t necessarily supposed to know that though). Together, they made an agreement to warm each other’s bed when it was needed. Morgan of course thought it was stupid as Adam was a mess when it came to his love life, Hayden reassured that it was no strings attached and they were practically best friends when they weren’t sleeping together. 

Other than that, Morgan and Adam didn’t have a bad relationship, she didn’t want to ask him this favor because she knew he’d tell Hayden. And Morgan doesn’t want her roommate on her back.

“Hey boys,” Morgan called out to them, her body leaning through the open passenger window. She gives a strained smile to Adam and he gives her one back, knowing why she didn’t ask him to do the favor. Without saying anything, Kevin passes the folder she asked for.

It was surprisingly thinner than what she expected it to be. This killer has been on the loose for a while and she’d hoped that the police would listen to her anonymous tips that tried to tie together all his crimes. But the evidence showed that they didn’t.

“This is all they have Kev?” Morgan flips through the pages, disappointment written on her face. 

“Yeah.  I tried digging up some more, but that’s all that was available.”

“God, cops are so fucking useless.” She huffs out, completely missing the offended faces on the two detectives. “I have more in my own files than this. I tried taking it in, but I keep getting shut down.”

“Morgan, you can’t do this by yourself.” Adam finally speaks up, placing a hand on her wrist. She pulls her eyes away from the paperwork to him. 

“But it seems like no one else wants to do the work. Olivia’s case has gone cold and I feel like the longer that it goes unsolved, the harder it will be to get justice.” Olivia’s throat aches as a sob threatens to creep out. There are tears brimming in her eyes and she turns her body away from the two men.

“I understand that, doc. But, you already have to worry about your patients and yourself.” Adam starts, glancing at Kevin, trying to get his partner to say something. The black man is unsure what to say, he’d recently learned about Morgan’s sister when she first asked him to acquire the files. 

“Why don’t we take a look into it?” Kevin says and Adam wants to hit him upside the head. Adam had promised Hayden that he would help Morgan move on, which meant getting Olivia’s investigation out of her mind. If he and Kevin pursued this case, Morgan would never let it rest.

“Would you really do that?” Morgan almost throws herself into the car, hope filling in her chest. “You’d do actual investigating?” Kevin hesitates when he meets eye contact with Adam,  but the look on Morgan’s face destroys him.

“Yeah, I’ll try to do some work in between my regular caseload.” There’s a soft smile on Kevin’s face while Adam sighs out then turns his head to look at the giddy doctor.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me Kevin. You too, Adam.” Before the second man could say anything, Morgan’s phone goes off indicating the arrival for one of her pregnant patients. “Looks like I have to go. Why don’t you come over tonight and I’ll give you everything that I have.” She smiles at both of them. “And Adam, please don’t tell Hayden or Jay.”

“Jay?” Adam questions. He understood why she didn’t want him to tell Hayden, but Jay?

“Yeah, Jay. The two of us are in a really good spot right now and I don’t want to jeopardize that anymore that it already has been.” Adam nods, understanding. “I’ll see you guys later.” With that, Morgan makes her way back into the hospital.

          ❦

Between patients Morgan finds herself peeking into the folder that Kevin gave her. One name stands: Isaac Elway. Apparently, his sister was a victim to the same killer that ended Olivia’s life. Details of the horrific crime, along with her sisters, were displayed in the paperwork. Morgan’s read the information about Olivia’s case numerous times before, but it still breaks her heart and it constantly keeps her up at night.

When she has no more patients, she pulls out a card with number on it. It’s Elway’s. She dials the number, her fingernail being demolished by the teeth in her mouth. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she’d been searching for answers for years. This was the first time she had heard of Elway and she had to know what he knew. Why was phone number in the file? Was he that important.

The phone rings and anxiety rises in Morgan’s throat. Eventually she had to get answers, that’s why she had Kevin looking into more details. No one answers the other line, just the automated voicemail message and a beep. Morgan quickly debates in her head whether or not to leave a message,  but ultimately she does.

“Hi, Mr. Elway this Dr. Morgan Fitzgerald at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center.  I am calling in regards to Sabrina Elway’s case file and it’s relation to another case. This isn’t a topic would like to discuss over the phone so I’d appreciate it if you would give me a call back. Thank you.” She hangs up the call and shoves the phone back into the pocket of her scrubs. 

“Dr. Fitzgerald, I need an OB consult on a patient?” Dr. Reese pokes her head through the door, oblivious to the emotions ripping the attending.

“Yeah, give me a moment.  I’ll be there.” The intern nods her head and retreats back towards the nurse’s central desk.

Morgan watches Sarah leave and then her eyes graze over the presence of her fellow doctors and the patients inhabiting the emergency room. She needed to accept that she will get her answers soon and that she could not speed the process of the world. She couldn’t afford getting distracted or she’d put herself and her patients in danger. She leaves the doctor’s lounge and heads back to her job, finally relinquishing control of her sister’s case.

Part Five

[themarveledwriter]

First Encounters

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Panic attacks. Blood. Cursing. Bad writing.

Summary: Sebastian runs into a girl and her dog in the park. She panics.

A/N: Sooo, I’m not dead. I also am out of the hospital! I wrote this in the hospital while feeling GREAT on pain meds so who knows if its good... Anyway. I have A LOT more of this story if you are interested, maybe it could become a series. Also if anyone has a better name... I am open to something different.

You were walking through Stuyvesant Park in Manhattan. It was a smaller park with nice walkways you liked to walk with your Golden Retriever, Winter . You had tried to take him on walks in Central Park when you first moved to New York, but it was way too busy for both you and your dog.

See, Winter was missing a front leg, hence the name. You had always been a Marvel fan, reading first edition Captain America comics with your Grandpa, who was a World War II vet. 

~Flashback~

You had been looking for a service dog for months, to help with chronic pain as well as your anxiety and depression, but you didn’t want to buy a puppy from a store or a breeder. You had almost given up hope on finding a puppy to train when you decided to visit a shelter a few hours outside of the city.

You asked the girl at the front desk if they had any younger dogs, since you needed to be able to train it, and she led you too a few different cages. The first few were all small breeds, Pomeranian, Terriers, Pugs… And while you would have gladly taken all of them if possible, you had to explain to the worker that you were looking for a larger breed to become a service dog. When you said so, her smile widened before dropping from her face.

“We do have one large breed, he’s a Golden Retriever but I don’t think he’d be that great as a service animal.”  The sweet lady said as she walked you out of that room and down a hall. “He’s an amazing pup, he is only seven weeks old and was dropped off a month ago, left in a crate by the front door, we didn’t see him until the next morning… his eyes weren’t even open yet.” She opened a door with a ‘Staff Only’ sign, “We had to separate him from the other dogs, even the small ones. He does great with them, he wants to play and is super friendly, but the other dogs picked on him” She points toward the only occupied cage in the room. 

You looked in the cage and instantly fell in love. There was a little puppy cuddled up in a bed way too big for him, sleeping. When you touched the cage doors, his eyes opened and locked with yours. 

He had two different colored eyes, one brown and one blue. Once he had fully woken up, he tried to approach the cage doors. That's when you realize why the employee didn’t think he’d be a good service dog, why he had to be separated from the other dogs.

He was missing his front left leg. 

It was wrapped in bright red gauze. You looked up at the employee, “What happened to him?” You said, your heart breaking for this little puppy. 

She looked sad, obviously expecting you to not want to adopt him, “We aren’t sure. We think he was probably used as a bait dog because his eyes. He’s a purebred goldie, but the eyes would be called an ‘imperfection’. He’s pretty much totally healed though. The stitches came out two days ago, and the only reason it’s wrapped is because he doesn’t really know how to walk on only three legs yet.”

Your heart was shattered, “Can I hold him?” You say, looking over at the lady. 

She walks over and unlocks the cage, pulling out the little bundle of fluff whose tail starts wagging the second the door opened up.

Right when she hands him to you he reaches his little head up and licks your cheek. You locked eyes with him, his brown and blue meeting your e/c. 

“I’ll take him.”

He was the best dog ever, given the name Winter because of your affinity for Marvel and his lack of a front leg. He quickly learned how to properly run again and became an amazing service dog. 

~End of Flashback~

You and Winter went on a walk at least once a week, as per request by your therapist. You tried your best to always do it, even if it was just a lap around the block.

You weren’t paying attention, letting Winter lead you. You knew he wouldn’t lead you off the path. 

But you weren’t expecting to get rammed into my a brick wall of a man. 

The next thing you knew you were flat on your ass and Winter was licking your cheek, something he often did when you dissociated. 

“I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you okay?” You could hear a familiar sounding voice above you, but you were still in shock.

Dazedly you reply, “Yeah… Yeah I’m okay” Winter finally stops licking you and instead rubs his face against yours. The feeling of his rough collar rubbing against you snapping you out of it.

“Oh my gosh, I am so so sorry,” You say while quickly standing up, black spots taking over your vision causing you to stumble right into the man you already ran into once.

“I can’t beli-” You cut yourself off as you lock eyes with the person who is now holding you in his arms. “Yo-yourrr… Sebastian Stan. Holy… HOLY SHIT.” You say as you push yourself out of his arms. 

When you are an appropriate distance away, you realize what you’d just done.

You could feel your breathing pick up, not quite hyperventilating but quickly getting to that point.

Looking everywhere but his eyes you say, “I am so so sorry. I can’t believe I did that. Winter usually keeps me from hitting people and I didn’t even realize I- I… I can’t breath.” You didn’t feel the panic attack coming until it was too late.

You felt Winter pull out of your grip, running towards the nearest person as he was trained to do when you got like this, it just so happened that the nearest person was Sebastian, the main cause of your panic attack. 

You felt hands on your shoulders, leading you forward towards a bench. Once you were sat down you felt Winter pull your medication pack off of your backpack. You had this specially made for him so that he could give the bag to the person you were with, and they could give you the pills. 

Sebastian was talking but there was no sound reaching your ears until you hear the pill bottle shake. He held one of your pills in front of you, and you shakily tried to grab it, knocking it on the floor. He got another one out and put it directly in your mouth.

You sat there for what felt like hours, trying to ground yourself. Winter was licking your face and your hands were buried deep in his fur. You weren’t even sure Sebastian was still there until the attack subsided, and you felt his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. 

“I’m- I am so… sorry.” You choke out between gasps for air.

“Shhhh, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s fine. What’s your name?” Sebastian says, his other hand reaching and petting Winter, who was now investigating the person touching his mom since the crisis was averted. 

“Y/n, my names Y/n.” You say, looking up at Sebastian and trying to keep your voice steady and breaths calm.

Sebastian smiles at you, now that he can see your face, “Y/n, that’s a really pretty name. I’m Sebastian, but I am guessing you already knew that.” Is he blushing?

You remembered shoving him after recognizing his face, right before you had a panic attack and broke down in front of him… Oh God no.

You gape at him before quickly looking away, trying to speak but not being able to. 

“Hey no, no it’s okay. You did nothing wrong, I ran into you!” He quickly says, trying to make you feel more comfortable.

“But I wasn’t watching where I was going,” You whimper.

You were so embarrassed, -What the fuck is wrong with me?- You think, looking towards Winter when tears well up in your eyes.

Sebastian grabs your hand and tugs, forcing you to look at him as a tear makes its way down your face, following the tear tracks from your panic attack “Hey! Nothing is wrong with you!”

Shit you must have said that out loud. 

For some reason this made you mad, mad at yourself and your body, but you took it out on him. 

You could tell when your facial expression changed to anger, as he looked even more concerned, “Nothing’s wrong? Nothing’s wrong!? I not only just rammed into you, but had a full blown panic attack in front of you because you’re famous! You had to feed me my fucking medicine and comfort me while I am sobbing and snotting all over! Do you know how embarrassed I am!? Why did you even stay?”

He looked at you with a confused face, “What do you take me for? An asshole that leaves a girl in distress just sitting in the middle of the park? Y/n… I would never do that to anyone, especially someone that I caused to have a panic attack.” He looks ashamed and it instantly wipes away your anger.

You both sat in silence for almost ten minutes, the only noise coming from the park around you and Winter, who was still panting from calming you down.

“You didn’t cause my panic attack.” You whisper.

Sebastian looks at you, “What?” You lock eyes with him, “You didn’t cause my panic attack. I have really bad mental… issues, and today has just been a bad day. I thought I could work through it but I knew I shouldn’t come out today.”

“Y/n you shouldn’t have to worry about that. You seem like a sweet girl and I am really sorry you are going through this. But… It seems like you have a pretty good friend to help you out.” He says, pointing towards Winter. “He’s a Golden Retriever right? What’s his name?”

You groan internally, “Ugh, this is so awkward.” You say, giggling a little when you see his confused face. He tilted his head to the side, a lot like a confused puppy. “His name’s Winter… I thought it was the perfect name since he’s missing his left front leg.”

It’s very obvious when Sebastian blushes this time, a bright red flush rushing up his neck. “Wow, so you really are a fan huh.” He says to you, your face quickly matching his, “Come here Winter, can I pet you?” 

Winter bounds up to him, excited to have a new friend. Sebastian is petting him when a group of girls with cameras show up.

They started asking him for pictures, saying how much they loved him and making you feel extremely awkward. You knew you still looked a mess from earlier, so while he was talking to his fans, you started walking the other way. Looking back once and locking eyes with him. For some reason you thought he looked sad, but you were probably just being hopeful.

~Sebastian’s POV~

Y/n.

Such a pretty name. 

Pretty name to match a pretty face, even with tears streaming down it.  He probably would have used a cheesy pick-up line on any other girl. 

But not Y/n.

Not the girl that just had a panic attack in his arms. Not the girl who cursed at him and yelled despite knowing who he was. Not the girl that named her service dog after his character.

He loved his fans, he really did, but right now they were getting on his nerves. He just wanted to talk to Y/n… To this girl he just met but was already so enamored by.

He took pictures with the girls, trying to keep his eye on Y/n’s back as she walked away. Locking eyes with her once more before she turned a corner and was blocked by the trees.

The girls surrounding him were talking, but he wasn’t really listening.

Eventually he couldn’t take it, he didn’t want to lose her. 

“I’m sorry, I really need to go. It was great to meet you!” He says to the girls surrounding him while starting to back away.

While most of his fans were understanding, there was always one that thought they were entitled to more. 

The majority of the group said their goodbyes, but one girl rolled her eyes. “Why? So you can follow that girl who was crying? What, is she your girlfriend?” She stepped closer to Sebastian, grinning. “You could just stay with me, I’m sure I am a lot more fun.”

He stepped away and turned around, “It doesn’t matter what I am doing or if I am following her or not. I need to go, enjoy your picture!”

As he ran after Y/n he heard the girl behind him make an irritated noise, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to catch up to Y/n.

Good thing he was in running gear.

~Y/n’s POV~

You were walking along the path, not really paying attention even though that is what got her into this mess. You just wanted to get to your car and go home. 

You were almost to your car when someone grabbed your shoulder. 

You may have screamed, but you definitely turned and punched the person who grabbed you square in the nose.

“Holy shit! What the fuck Y/n?” A familiar voice says, muffled through his hands that are covering his now bleeding nose and mouth.

Shit, it was Sebastian. Why the fuck did he grab you?

You ran forward and put your hand under his chin, gently tipping his face up towards yours. 

“I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention and you startled me!” You weren’t sure what to do, there was blood going everywhere. Winter was trying to jump up on Sebastian, sensing his pain.

Sebastian looks up, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you. I just didn’t want you to get away from me.” You were confused, “Why? I was just heading home… I live really close to here, do you wanna come? I can clean you up and I probably have clothes there that would fit you… I kinda ruined your shirt.”

Sebastian looked up at you, “You sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Say no.

Say you changed your mind.

You give the man in front of you a small smile, ���Yeah, definitely!”

Wait… What? What the fuck did you just do?

[anotheronechicagobog]

The Crackship Sails to Molly’s Natalie Manning x Stella Kidd

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

warnings: swearing, mention of homophobia, Manning isn’t Nat’s maiden name, she changed it when she got married, just saying, Helen’s kindof a bitch, canon compliant accidents, implied artificial insemination, implied/mentioned smut

They had absolutely no idea how they ended up there. Well, that wasn’t strictly true... Molly’s and ladies’ nights. And tequila, tequila was definitely at fault here. For their hangovers and their nudity under the covers. Unfortunately, the tequila didn’t take their memories, so they knew exactly what they did. Or who they did, rather. And the answer was each other.

After Natalie’s awkward exit from Stella’s apartment above the Hermann house, Stella made quick work of the dirty dishes from their breakfast. She couldn’t help but think back to the previous night. They were so drunk, but Natalie was so hot and Stella just felt something inside her snap. It had felt like a coil, but everything that she and Nat did last night, it all just felt so right, so satisfying. She felt like she was on a high. There was no way she was going to last long without having sex with Natalie again, she could already feel herself going crazy.

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As it turned out, she wasn’t the only one feeling that way. And so, their friends with benefits relationship began. Stella was a bit nervous, she had a two-year-old son and a pretty crazy mother in law. But it felt so right. Until it felt more than right, and both women knew they were in trouble. It started with cuddling after sex and lead to watching movies in the afternoon and lingering touches and longing looks. But one rainy Sunday afternoon, they were cuddled on Natalie’s brand new GRÖNLID, and suddenly it just hit both of them. They were dating, in secret, but dating. Natalie licked her lips and looked Stella in the eye. “Will you go on a date with me?” Stella cradled her face gingerly, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I would love to.”

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

It became obvious to Helen very quickly that Natalie was seeing someone, and the thought made her stomach heavy. She knew it wasn’t fair of her to hate the idea of Natalie moving on, but she couldn’t help it. She only had one son. She only wanted one son. And he was gone.

So when Owen was picked up by someone else while Natalie was at work, months after Helen knew she had officially begun dating him, Helen lost it. Her mouth turned bitter as she drove to the hospital, fully prepared to scream at her daughter-in-law in front of her coworkers. When she got to MED she barely remembered to throw her car in park before slamming the door and marching past everyone. The people waiting, nurses, secretaries, the only one who was able to stop her was Maggie. “Helen, hi. How are you? You know you can’t be back here right?”

“I’m here to see Natalie, move.”

“Okay, no. You do not get to speak to me like that ever, much less so in my ED. Drop the attitude. Now.”

“It’s too soon, Maggie, it’s only been-”

“Four years. It has been four years Helen, I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through, but I know that it is absolutely no excuse for acting the way you are. You are not entitled to Natalie’s love life, and you still haven’t apologized to me. And since you’re not in an emergency medical situation and I do not feel like dealing with your BS right now, you need to leave.”

“Maggie you can’t-”

“I’ll call security.”

“Don’t interfere with something that-”

“Security, escort this woman off the premises, please and thank you.” The two security guards Maggie had summoned with a raised eyebrow ended up dragging Helen out kicking and screaming. All while Natalie watched in heartbreak. Was it really that awful that she didn’t want to be alone and empty for the rest of her life?

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

Because of the incident at MED Nat and Stella decided it was time to sit Helen down and tell her that they were dating and to get over herself. Helen entered in a huff, somewhat pleased with herself that she finally got Natalie to admit she was seeing someone, but she would be lying her ass off if she said she wouldn’t give whoever this guy was shit for sneaking around with a widow. She didn’t see him though, only a Latina woman in a mustard sweater and jeans. “Alright, where is he?”

“Sit down Helen, you don’t’ get to talk to me that way.” Helen threw herself down onto the same chair she’d tossed her jacket and purse on while Natalie sat beside the woman on the light green couch. Helen felt all her rage and grief evaporate as she watched the two women intertwined hands. “I’m bisexual, Helen. So is Stella. I didn’t figure it out really until I met her. I guess a part of me always knew but I kind of ignored it, because, well, you know how people discriminate against LGBTQ people. But, she makes me so, so happy. And Owen just loves her.”

“Oh thank God.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t care about sexualities, really. Love is love and anyone who tries to limit the love of others is a fool and a monster. Truthfully, this is a relief. I was so scared that you’d found a man to replace Jeff. You dating a woman is actually a lot more comfortable for me. I already approve.”

“While I’m glad Stella’s got your stamp of approval, you have to understand that your behaviour recently is unacceptable, right? You are not entitled to anything, and you owe both me and Maggie apologies.”

“You’re... Right. Completely right. There isn’t an excuse or a reason, not a good one anyway. I’m so sorry Natalie. Really, I am... That... That psychiatrist you work with, Dr. Charles, does he, uh, is he accepting patients? I think, I mean I’ve put it off for so long, I think it’s time that I talk to someone. About everything.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Helen, I’ll talk to him tomorrow for you.”

“Thank you. Now Stella, you’ve been very quiet during all this, I’d like to get to know you. What do you do?- Oh! And how long have you two been dating?”

“I’m a firefighter, and we’ve been dating for- eight months?”

“Around that, yeah.”

“That’s wonderful, how do you like being a firefighter?”

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

After Helen apologized to everyone and started therapy, things got much calmer. She also became Stella and Natalie’s biggest supporter. Like tonight, she was always offering to babysit for date nights, and the couple took full advantage of that. They were dining out at an intimate restaurant, glad for some time with just the two of them. “So I read this story on Reddit on my break today about this guy who, completely sober, was shoving a toilet brush up his... You know, so that it looked like he had a bunny tail. You guys ever get anything crazy like that?”

“Yeah actually, we’ve got this frequent flyer for ambo who regularly gets high off his ass, draws weird, nonsensical symbols all over his body, then call to complain that he was assaulted by aliens.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, hey, I found The Italian Job on Netflix, the one with Jason Statham. Wanna watch it when we get back?”

“Oh, absolutely. I love his movies.”

“I know right?”

“He’s like the British Ryan Reynolds.”

“Yes! Exactly!”

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

TWO YEARS LATER

Stella was just finishing up with the snacks for Owen’s fifth birthday party when the Hermann Horde arrived. “Hey guys! Nat’s just about done with the decorations, but she and Owen are out back.”

“When does Helen get here?”

“She should be here in fifteen, she picked up the cake from the bakery.”

“I thought you were a pretty good baker Stella, why from a bakery?”

“I can bake many things, but a cake for forty people that looks like a shark? Nope. Not that.”

“Owen really likes the ocean, doesn’t he?” Cindy looked around at all the ocean-themed decorations, the snacks dressed up to look like different sea creatures. “He really does, can’t say I blame him though. We go to the aquarium pretty frequently, and damn these little guys are amazing and beautiful.” The placed the last of the jellyfish sugar cookies on the platter and smiled. She really felt like Owen was her son, and as far as anyone was concerned, she was. It would even be official in a couple of months when she and Nat get married. “I love seeing you happy like this Stella.”

“Thanks, Cindy. It feels good.”

“It looks good too, you’re both just so bright and sometimes I swear that Natalie’s glowing.” Stella kissed the older woman on the cheek, biting her lip to keep from revealing that Natalie was glowing, and that they’d be welcoming another member into their family in around eight months.

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

TWO MONTHS LATER

Natalie and Stella were overjoyed, they were finally wife and wife, recognized by the state as a family. Hearts full and warm, they danced in slow graceful circles, the skirts of both their gowns flowing in cloud-like motions around them. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.” The music from the orchestra trickled to an end, parting the smiling brides. “Ready to tell them?”

“Yes. I am so excited.” Kisses were exchanged before the blushing brides made their way up to the stage with their arms around each others’ waist. “First of all, we would like to thank everyone for being here to celebrate the best day of our lives.”

“Second of all, we have an announcement to make. Nat’s three months pregnant.” Stella and Natalie placed their hands over Nat’s abdomen, smiling misty tears as they were met with cheers from all of their family and friends, no one louder than Owen.

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

FIVE YEARS LATER

While working in the ED Natalie had been a witness to numerous tragedies. She’d also been through a few herself. And Maggie, wise, gentle, loving, Maggie, always knew when the worst of the worst were about to come through. She got this look on her face as she answered the head nurse phone, meaning that it was someone they all knew. After a few whispered words with Ms. Goodwin Maggie’s guilt-ridden gaze settle on Natalie. “Nat, I need you to go wait in the doctor’s lounge.”

“Maggie? What’s going on?” In the back of her mind, in the depths of her heart, Natalie knew what was wrong. But she didn’t want to be right. She wanted to be so, so wrong. “Dr. Conte,” Natalie had realized two months into her and Stella’s relationship that she still had the name she took when she married Jeff at twenty years old and decided to go back to her maiden name. “You need to go wait in the doctor’s lounge.”

“Sharon, no-”

“Incoming! Thirty-three year old female, firefighter, inside an electrical fire when the house went. Halstead, Noah, April, you’re in treatment three.” The sounds of beeps and medical jargon couldn’t be heard above the buzzing in Natalie’s ears. Choi was holding her back, trying to drag her to the doctor’s lounge, stopping her from being with her wife. And then her BP dropped and she flatlined. The instructions given could not be heard by anyone outside of the room over Natalie’s horrified, deafening, soul-shattering scream.

And then it was back. One round of epi and she was back. Natalie broke down into heaving, gut-wrenching sobs in Ethan’s arms. He was the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor, her legs had lost all their strength.

She didn’t remember sitting down, or getting any water or food. But suddenly she feels like she’s woken up and she has a bottle of water and thermos in her hands. “Eat.” Kelly Severide is beside her with a hand on her shoulder. Sylvie is handing her a spoon. Joe is handing her tissues. “Cindy and Helen are watching Owen and Celeste, don’t worry.” She’s drunk the entire water bottle and eaten five spoonful of soup when Maggie approaches her. “Maggie don’t tell me she’s gone- oh God, please no-”

“She’s fine. They’re closing her up now, she’ll recover just fine. Come on, I’ll take you to her recovery room. And bring that thermos. You’re going to finish eating even if I have to tie you down and feed you myself.”

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

“Nat?” Stella had woken up, for good this time, and was staring at the love of her life as Connor and Crockett left the room. “You scared me. So, so much.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just be alive. Please, just stay alive.” Nat kissed her forehead and stroked her hair as all her tears just couldn’t be held back anymore. “I know you love being a firefighter, and I love it too, I will never want you to give up a job that you are so kickass at, but please, please be more careful. I’m begging you.”

“Okay... I’ll be more careful.” Stella’s coughing fit was cured by a glass of water, and the aches in her bones were cured by the gentle hugs from her son and daughter when they saw her an hour later. “I love you.” She chanted to each of them. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” And she did, until she and Natalie were in their eighties and living in Fowlerton. They were found by their neighbour who went to check on them after he didn’t see them on their porch like he did every morning. Stll. Peaceful. Tangled together. In love until their very last breaths.

[schizosupport]

I’ve asked several questions here before, so you might recognize me. Thank you so much for answering them and for your blog and work in general 💜💜💜

Late January I got prescribed Carbamazepine, and mid March I got prescribed Quetiapine (seroquel). Since about mid April, while I was in mental hospital, where I got diagnosed (it’s F21.3, I mentioned it to you as schizotypal but it is actually pseudoneurotic schizophrenia, which in my country is listed as a subtype of schizotypal. But I think it’s actually something like schizoaffective, the doctors didn’t take my bipolar symptomatic in account, and I want to get my diagnosis changed), I’ve been taking them in doses C 800 mg a day and Q 600 mg a day, and May 16 I got C lowered to 600 after I a serious overdose by a nurse’s negligence (and it was second in a single week, the staff is mostly fucking shit. But the first time a good sleep mostly did its job, and the second time I needed an ambulance), and it turned out that these extra 200 mg were always a slight overdose. I’ve been taking it both in such doses since then up to about two weeks ago, when I got it both lowered to 300 mg a day and also prescribed fluoxetine, which I quit three days later because even my mum saw that I was hypomanic, but it didn’t last long and now I’ve been taking it for three days again because I became depressed so soon, and it’s like that a second or even third time in a row.

So. To what I wanted to tell about.

Even with doses lowered so much, it seems like my body can’t take it anymore. My bowel is failing. I don’t even think a change of medication will help. But you once said in your blog that quitting medication cold turkey can make one more psychotic that they were before. I’m scared. Also, I’m the psychotic-for-whole-life-first-hallucination-at-18 anon — well, not exactly first, I’m also the very short auditory hallucinations anon, but nothing like that has ever happened to me before. I was lying in bed, it was daytime. At first I was half-sleeping, but when I awoke, I’ve heard my mom coming to my room, sitting by my bed and beginning to talk to me, she always talks in long monologues. When I rolled to face her and opened my eyes, there was no one there. It repeated several times, each time her talking on different themes — I know how she talks to me and my siblings so well that my brain is able to generate what she would really said. At first several times I thought on each turn that this time she was actually coming, and for some reason it all hurt so much, by the nth time I realized that she’s not coming and instead of rolling over lay with my back to the voice, hugging myself, nearly crying, telling myself it is a hallucination as the voice was speaking. Also while it felt real, it was mostly “inside my head”, and I also had mental image of my mom sitting by, like I have mental image of myself, sometimes as someone/something else, when I’m stressed, btw the last time I had it was I think before I got 800x600, but one time, a third turn maybe, I heard clear footsteps with my ears, so I thought this time she’s really coming! But it was a part of hallucination too. After the hallucination ended, I got up, came down (I live in a two-floor cottage) and my parents told me to dress up, we’re going to clinic — this day I got my dose lowered, but I didn’t tell the doctor about my hallucination, even though I wanted to — I forgot that I got up after it, I thought I fell asleep, and thought that maybe it was born by a half-asleep mind, but only after we got home I remembered clearly, that I didn’t sleep that day, I got up, and I was fully awake during a hallucination. Nothing like that have yet repeated again.

Hi there Leviathan!! I’m so fucking sorry I never answered you T_T I’m not going to respond super in depth, instead I will ask you how you’re doing now?  I’ve had similar experiences as you describe with the hallucination of your mom. I will urge you to always tell yourself that hallucinations in and of themselves are NOT dangerous, so try not to panic. It’s going to be okay, we’re all a little or a lot crazy here, and we’re haning on regardless.

It sounds like you’ve been given some really massive doses of antipsychotics, which I feel might actually be inappropriate. 

It’s true that you should never quit cold turkey, tapering off is the way to go. And if the meds are helping some, but also having bad side effects, a lower dose or a different med might work for you.

Best of luck!!! I hope to hear from you again, and I’m so sorry for my slow answer D;

[ssa-montgomery]

You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid

Word Count: 2247

Summary: Addison, Mark and Derek have all been friends long before the events of Grey's Anatomy and what we see them go through as Attendings. Their days in Medical school involved a whole lot of laughing, flirting and of course some actual studying. This is one of those average days.

Characters: Addison Montgomery x Derek Shepherd, Mark Sloan

Warnings: Fluff, Mark being a flirt, mention of cheating 

A/N:  So welcome to the first one-shot in a new series! This series is going to be a bunch of loosely connected flashback one-shots to Addison, Mark and Derek's days in Med school! I have a few ideas for future one-shots already but I am open to any requests you might have. If you want to see more of these please let me know and I can add you to the taglist!

The title is taken from the song "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid" by The Offspring

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

"Bonjour ma chérie." Mark had spotted Addison making her way down the steps in front of the building ahead of him and raced to catch up to her before she disappeared into the crowds of students outside. He draped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side with a grin.

Despite having mostly separate classes for the day they both finished at the same time, unlike Derek who still had one class left. It was the beginning of summer and the temperature had been increasing over the past couple of days but Mark was still wearing one of his signature leather jackets, his motorbike helmet tucked under his free arm. He had gotten his bike at the start of the school year and Addison had barely seen him outside the apartment without it since then. She was certain part of the reason behind that was that the girls on campus seemed to love the bike too.

"Hey, Mark." Addison laughed bumping her shoulder against Mark's. "I see those conversational French lessons are paying off."

"Yes, they are." Mark nodded his head and let out a laugh of his own.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they walked further down the path together, heading towards the end of campus. The heat of the sun was pouring down on them through the gaps in the trees that surrounded the path and Addison was grateful for the loose sundress she had slipped on that morning. She let out a content sigh and allowed herself to appreciate the calm moment at the end of a long day of classes.

"You coming back to the apartment to hang out?" Mark asked looking down at her as they started to draw closer to the end of the path.

"I can't right now. Tennis practice." Addison gestured to the sports bag she had hanging off one shoulder. Her mother had signed her up for tennis when she was younger and it was one of the few activities from her teens that she had actually enjoyed which lead her to continue with practice in college and now in med school too. She knew once she started her internship she wouldn't have the time for it anymore so she made the most of it now.

"Oh right, maybe I could come with? I've never seen you play." Mark suggested.

"Mark we both know you just want to go and watch pretty girls in short skirts play sports." Addison sighed, she considered Mark a close friend and had learned many things about him since first meeting him, one of them being his extensive dating history and the fact that he loved to flirt with anyone he could. Addison herself included.

"I mean, yeah but like I could also be your personal cheerleader. Wait, does tennis have its own cheerleaders? Because that's just more pretty girls in short skirts."

"Mark!" Addison shot him an exasperated look and lightly elbowed him in the ribs.

"Okay okay sorry." Mark snorted. They had reached the end of the path and came to a stop on the street outside campus. Mark's apartment was in the opposite direction to Addison's practice so he removed his arm from around her shoulders and moved to face her as they talked.

"I thought you were with that girl from our Gross Anatomy class anyway? What was her name again?"

"Oh uh yeah, that didn't work out. She dumped me, threw all my stuff out of her fourth-floor dorm window. Including my Gross Anatomy textbook that got ripped in half, I had to order a new one." Mark sighed shifting his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. 

"Oh, Mark," Addison said sympathetically reaching over to lightly squeeze his arm. Addison sat next to Mark in that class and she had watched him flirting with that girl from across the classroom before he finally met her in the library and actually asked her out. She had seemed sweet and Addison thought that what Mark had described seemed out of character. "I'm sorry, she seemed great."

"Well I mean I had it coming, I was also sleeping with her roommate."

"Seriously Mark." Addison scoffed rolling her eyes. "Never mind I take back my sympathy you did have that coming. You're such an ass."

"But you still love me?" Mark questioned flashing that familiar grin at her.

"Hmm, sometimes." She teased. She had never expected to become as close to Mark as she was now. He had been in a couple of her classes since she started med school but she hadn't paid much attention to him. That was until Derek Shepherd, the cute boy in her Gross Anatomy class had introduced himself to her in the library one day and asked her out on a date, even then Mark had been by his side and she quickly learned they came as a package deal. After that, she started to spend more and more time with him and they became good friends.

"So are you gonna swing by the apartment to see Derek? Maybe we could all hang out together?"

"Of course Mark, I'm coming straight over once I'm done with practice." Addison smiled at him.

"I'll see you later then, knock 'em dead at practice Red."

"Thank you, Mark. I'll see you soon."

~~~

Addison pulled her key out of her bag and easily slid it into the lock, pushing open the door to Derek and Mark's shared apartment. Derek had a key made for her a few months ago after she started to spend more time at their apartment than her own. Her apartment was left empty most of the time with her at Derek and Mark's and her roommate and best friend Naomi at her boyfriend Sam's. The apartment was a decent size with an open living room that they spent most of their time in and kitchen. Derek and Mark both had their own bedrooms but over time Derek's room had become his and Addison's with her slowly adding her own clothes to his wardrobe and her leaving her books there because "it was just easier" with her there most of the time.

When Addison stepped inside the main room was empty and at first, the whole apartment seems silent. For a moment she wondered if they had both already gone to bed but it was still early and that was unusual for them. She dropped her sports bag down on top of the counter in the kitchen and made her way towards Derek's bedroom. As she came closer to the door she could hear Mark and Derek laughing on the other side. She cracked the door open slightly and stuck her head around, peering into the room.

"Having a slumber party without me?" Addison chuckled looking at them both sitting in the middle of Derek's bed. 

"Sorry Addie, you took too long to come home and now I've taken your boyfriend. You'll need to find someone else." Mark teased resting a hand on Derek's knee.

"I can't blame you, good guys like him are hard to come by." Addison opened the door fully and walked into the room to join them. Mark cocked an eyebrow looking her up and down as he took in her outfit. She had come straight from practice just like she had promised and she was still wearing her tennis gear, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail that had now fallen out of place with strands fallen into her face.

Derek glanced over at Mark and noticed the way he was staring at Addison. Reaching behind him Derek grabbed one of his pillows and hit Mark in the face with it, pushing him onto his back so he could hold the pillow over his eyes. Mark's laughter was muffled by the pillow and he pushed at Derek's chest but he refused to move the pillow.

"Mark, stop eyeing my girlfriend."

Addison crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at them. She had gotten used to their antics over time and was rarely surprised by them any more. Mark and Derek were so close Addison had almost mistaken them for brothers before she really knew them. She understood why now, they had grown up together and Mark truly was the brother Derek never had in a house full of sisters.

"Honey, I'm going to go take a shower and change out of these clothes," Addison said making her way across the room and planting a soft kiss to Derek's cheek.

"Okay." Derek nodded smiling up at Addison.

"So um, do you think you could move this pillow now before you suffocate me?" Mark asked once he heard the lock on the bathroom door click closed behind Addison.

"Right, sorry." Derek laughed moving the pillow back onto his lap, holding his free hand out to help Mark sit back up.

"It's just you know, there are three doctors in training in this apartment but with me down I don't know if I trust you two with the CPR. Plus I doubt you want Addison giving me mouth to mouth."

Mark swiftly rolled out of the way of the pillow that Derek hurled in his direction and narrowly avoid falling off the edge of the bed as the pillow tumbled to the floor.

~~~

Addison emerged from the bathroom half an hour later in her pyjamas, her hair twisted up into a loose bun. Her makeup had been removed and she looked relaxed. She padded across the floor and crawled up onto the bed next to Derek who was lying on his usual side of the bed, his back propped against the headboard. Mark, on the other hand, was sprawled out across the foot of the bed staring up at the ceiling. The pillow Derek had thrown at him was sitting on his chest and he had one arm draped across it.

"So what are you two doing? I was thinking about going over the content of today's class if either of you wants to join." Addison explained curling herself into Derek's side.

"Ever the vigilant student Addie." Mark chuckled. "Yeah, that would be good."

"Of course." Derek nodded in agreement, threading his fingers through the loose parts of Addison's hair. Addison leaned into the contact and let out a satisfied hum.

"Perfect, we can use my textbooks since Mark's got damaged." Addison teased throwing a sly smirk at Mark.

"Oh come on! It was only one of them." He groaned rolling over onto his stomach, moving the pillow so his head was now propped up on it.

"Well mine is right here, it will save you getting up." Derek smiled, kissing the top of Addison's head before reaching over to his bedside table to drag his bag closer trying not to disturb her too much.

He pulled out his copy of Gray's Anatomy textbook and dropped it onto the middle of the bed so they could all easily see it. Addison pulled herself away from Derek and sat up to flick the book open, crossing her legs underneath herself. She opened the page they had been working on that day and noticed the notes that Derek had scribbled in the margin, he had also labelled the detailed sketch of the brain. 

"I took some more detailed notes on the neuro section, don't mind all the writing," Derek explained fidgeting nervously with the edge of the page.

"Look at you already knowing what speciality you're interested in." Addison giggled playfully pushing at Derek's arm. They all worked hard in their classes but Derek had always been the most focused out of them and he spent a lot of his time studying. Addison wasn't surprised that he was the first out of the group to find a speciality he was seriously interested in. He had put the hours into the research.

"At least, for now, Neurosurgery seems the most interesting to me. You know you're working with the part of a person that makes up who they are, their personality, their ability to perform tasks. It's a speciality you can really help people with." Derek said. He sounded passionate when he spoke about it and they could see that this genuinely might be his speciality someday. 

"I think I might have found a speciality too," Mark said then. They both looked at him slightly surprised. Mark had never really shown interest in anyone speciality before this and they hadn't known he was even considering one already. "I've been really interested in plastics recently. I don't want to tie myself to one speciality before we even start internship but I will definitely be looking into it more. I think it has the potential to really help some people."

"I think I'll need to try a bit of every speciality before I really know what I'm interested in," Addison explained honestly. Originally she had thought she would be interested in General surgery but the more she learned about neonatal she felt herself being pulled more in that direction as a speciality. "Although OB/GYN does seem interesting, you know not only are you saving one life but you're saving two. Plus it has a few different paths you could take when you really start to define your speciality.2

"We'd make a badass surgical team." Mark grinned up at them both.

"Hell yes, we will." Derek laughed.

"Maybe we could have our own practice together someday." Addison agreed.

Taglist: @thewaywardimpala

[geekns]

last night’s breakdown or...spectrum confessions

So i just wanted to saying something about the meltdown that some of you might have noticed last night (i know a couple of you did, though i think i managed to keep most of it under wraps).

I have a medical condition. It causes me to feel anxious and depressed. Constantly. To varying degrees. I take medication for it. I’ve tried to learn how to manage it. I try to hide it because the general public does not understand this condition. Furthermore, i don’t want to share the underlying trauma with anyone and everyone. I want to come across as a functioning adult as much as possible.

So even while I have spent fifteen years learning how to forgive the people who hurt me. And something like six months in therapy. And around two years being medicated...I still have occasional breakdowns.

Sometimes i still have a night where everything that i’m trying to keep copacetic, and acknowledged but not given free reign, takes over. It refuses to be medicated or meditated or prayed into compliance. It takes over me and pours out of me whether i want it or not. Suddenly i am not functioning, i am sobbing uncontrollably, and terrified, and feel guilty, and unloved, and imprisoned. And in those moments i want nothing more than to die. A part of me does not even trust myself not to harm myself. I want to be held (but am always alone). I want to protected (but never am). I am normally the person who takes care of others, no one ever takes care of me.

And i feel physically sick. Nausea, a headache, and body aches. Full body grief. Last night i was seeing flashing lights behind my eyelids as if i was having a seizure or on a bad trip. And the panic: the panic is in control, I cannot think straight. Even if i tell myself positive things, or try to use strategies for calming down, try to quiet my raging thoughts, the panic has free reign. It is in full control. And the only thing i can do is curl up in bed hugging my stuffed animal, clutching my blanket, waiting for it to end. And it won’t end until after I’ve slept it off. And I can’t sleep because I’m in fight or flight mode.

Maybe I should do some kickboxing when I get like this.

I’m going to confess, it was probably the worst it’s been in years last night. I was even trying to go to my safe place, and was kind of getting there (i usually can’t do my best safe place visualizing anymore, i think it’s the meds), but the person who normally talks me down from these things was not feeling safe last night. (His likeness was part of the reason i was freaking out tbh.) But even though i didn’t really want him there he didn’t go away, he stayed with me until i fell asleep.

I have imaginary friends sort of. Apparently they’re called tulpa? Though i don’t create or really control them, they just show up fully formed. Mostly when i’m panicking or worried. Whenever i need to talk things through that i have no one to talk to. The thing is, they always wear the likeness of real people, usually celebrities that play characters i strongly identify with. I used to get advice from Picard and Gandalf and Archer for instance. All of us sitting around a campfire on a beach. They’re always men, i don’t know why. (Hmm maybe that goes to daimons?) 

For example: one time i was on a train in Japan, underground, and a drunk man started yelling at two women halfway down the car. And i had a panic attack. And suddenly i was visualizing Twelve/PC talking me down from it, telling me to breathe, that i was safe, etc. Distracting me from the danger. (Two things: i read a story about him talking another fan down from a panic attack outside a convention later. And another male passenger escorted the drunk off the train at the next stop, but i was still panicking for a while. I still had to change trains and it would take me another hour to get home for the night.)

So part of the thing is that the thoughts i usually keep under control, don’t allow myself to dwell on, acknowledge but keep muted with optimism, become deafening and take over when this happens. I think way back when it would be 1-2 times a month, then 1-2 times a quarter, and now it’s 1-2 times a year, but it still happens. I used to just let all of the darkness come pouring out, usually through writing. I’m always alone. And i suppose it’s cathartic, but it’s horrific while it’s happening. I don’t recognize myself, the girl who never gives up and is always glass is 100% full. I don’t want to let others see it even as i’m desperate to be loved and held and accepted as i am.

It’s hard to explain.

When i wake up the next morning the darkness is gone. It’s quiet again, and i feel “normal” (normal for me). It’s hold is gone. Now i always live with a baseline amount of anxiety and depression, even while medicated. If i take too much medication i can’t sleep (i’m already an insomniac, i don’t need drugs making it worse) and so i can’t feel any sexual arousal at all...it really bothers me. It’s hard enough for me to become properly aroused without suppressing it entirely. I generally have to fantasize about something very specific (which let me tell you, the majority of you wouldn’t find to be sexy at all).

When i first went on the meds i spent months where i didn’t feel anything (other than that i was suddenly very chatty and animated in a completely uncharacteristic way) and i hated it. My mom doesn’t understand, doesn’t see repressed sexuality as a downside when i’m not married.

Re: asexuality. My grandma was on the spectrum (we always joke she had sex at least four times...resulting in four kids) and my mother probably is, too. I have had two short-lived dating relationships in which my only sexual desire was to satisfy my partner really. I don’t enjoy kissing. I do have a libido that’s greater than either my mother or grandma’s...but like i said, it’s fucked up and not initiated by any of the conventional methods. Kissing doesn’t make me feel like getting down, for instance. At least in my (so far limited) experience. I keep hoping that i’m actually demi and just need to meet the right person to make this a little bit easier for me. But it will probably just be something i have to work through for the rest of my life. 

Perhaps i should stipulate that I want to want to have sex. And when i do want to have sex i am always alone. And when i am with someone else the things that attract me are just odd. Being read aloud to, or talked to about nerdy things, got me farther than anything else. But it’s not the content so much as the mind that’s behind what’s being expressed.

I am certainly no expert on this subject. My therapist had never heard of demisexuality and had no input on asexuality. In other words, they were absolutely no help when it came to working through these issues, which is where I wanted to go (partially because i feel it may be tied in with my PTSD and is being repressed by fear).

Five types of attraction:

Romantic attraction: desiring a romantic relationship with someone

Aesthetic attraction: being attracted to someone based on how they look

Sensual or physical attraction: wanting to touch, hold, or cuddle someone

Platonic attraction: wanting to be friends with someone

Emotional attraction: wanting an emotional connection with someone

Most of my attraction is towards fictional characters (and to a varying extent the actors who play them). Both of my RL partners would only be physically expressive in private. They wouldn’t touch me in public. Or even in private spaces with others present. There was one i didn’t really know all that well and another who had hidden a lot from me up to that point even though he claimed he didn’t believe in hiding things from the person you’re dating. And we would be physical in private to varying degrees but i was left feeling largely unfulfilled. I kind of struggle with these definitions. Both of the guys I dated i had zero aesthetic attraction to but did have physical attraction to whereas they only wanted to express themselves sexually.

I strongly desire having a romantic relationship with someone but have for a very long time only had romantic attraction for fictional characters. I fairly recently had a physical and romantic attraction to someone for the first time, at first based on sapiosexual attraction that later became aesthetic attraction (why is there no listed attraction for this? I am usually attracted to people’s minds first).

I have very strong aesthetic attraction to certain actors...and this is a large part of the reason that i know i’m bi. But it isn’t only aesthetic for really strong attraction because i am sapiosexual and also strongly attracted to damaged, often misunderstood, people/characters. Case in point: Loki and Missy. In these cases i have strong physical attraction but not sexual attraction. I cannot fathom having sex with most characters or actors or people I meet in RL. I sometimes wonder what casual sex would be like but know that i could never...

I can only remember kissing someone (also a character) in a dream once and immediately put a stop to it, not because i wasn’t attracted to that person, but because they were unavailable in my mind. They were part of an OTP that i was not in. So there’s a strong romantic component for me.

Sensual or physical attraction is actually something I fantasize about a lot but have never experienced...outside of one platonic relationship. I had a friend when I lived in Japan who I wasn’t even particularly close to. But right away she would ask me if she could lean on me, lay against my lap, later link arms with. I can’t remember if we ever held hands. She was Chinese, and for an Asian girl this is very normal to do with platonic friends. Koreans call this “skin sisters.”

It was really weird for me because my own sisters don’t even want to do those sorts of things with me. I sometimes want to lean against my mother but most of my sisters would punch me rather than let me touch them affectionately. My youngest sister, once I came back from Japan, had reached a point where she was bolder and will goose, grope, grab, poke, pinch, try to pop my toes...it’s very disconcerting. She does things to me in front of others that i consider to be more sexual than platonic. Possibly because my only frame of reference is my father doing the same to my mother. She’s the only sister who will sometimes lean against me. But that was only after this friendship in Japan that was more physical than any of my “romantic” but-definitely-not-romantic partners. No kissing, but the sort of physical expression that i most long for.

Platonic attraction is rare for me. Extremely rare. Any platonic relationship i have pursued has always inevitably ended with spectacular heartbreak. In high school i was always on the outside. One platonic friendship ended dramatically (she had been hiding things from me, which is fine, but it ended badly and she moved away suddenly). Another platonic relationship fizzled because she was my best friend but i was just another friend for her. And whenever this happens to me, i am the friend that all plans will be cancelled with because the other friends have preference. And there was no big break there, i was old enough to not be heartbroken by it as i had by earlier examples of this. We still converse on FB and i am the person she came to first when she accidentally got pregnant in college. Have i mentioned that i’m the should people come to when they need emotional support? I’m a good listener and not judgmental and know when to give advice and when to stay mum.

Which brings me to spiritual attraction. We aren’t merely physical or mental beings. There is something else there. And my empathy, my spiritual center...there are times that i know things that i have no logical business knowing. I don’t always understand it, sometimes it’s a feeling, but my intuition is something that i’ve learned not to ignore. 

My last boss, i could tell he had anger issues. I only caught a glimpse of them once. He really liked me so i was fortunate. But every conversation we had after our initial meeting i could tell (spiritually) that he was potentially very dangerous to me emotionally. The more we interacted the more nervous it made me. Familiarity could lead to a loss of professional discretion.

Latter friend: i knew when she IMed me out of the blue after a six month drought that something big was up. She demurred that she couldn’t talk about it. I knew that the only reason that she had come to me was because she needed to tell me. Again, i had a feeling, and it turned out to be correct. She was pregnant. BF wanted her to abort. She didn’t believe in abortion. One conversation gave her the strength to stand up for herself and give her baby up for adoption.

Grandma: I was unable to go home for thanksgiving. Sister (roommate situation) went to her in-laws. I stayed home alone and worked. I was having panic attacks. I had the most heinous period of my entire life. A couple days later my dad calls me up and says: “Has anyone told you that Grandma is in the hospital? She had a heart attack.” No one had told me anything, I somehow knew something was wrong anyway. My brain just couldn’t make sense of it.

Kate Mulgrew: I somehow knew that she was looking for her daughter. Then-me interpreted this as Janeway having a missing daughter, expecting her to show up on the show and join the crew. What i didn’t realize that this was a real longing and need. I have carried this knowledge with me for over twenty years. I found out sometime within the past year that she had become pregnant early in her acting career, while on Ryan’s Hope, given her daughter up for closed adoption, regret it, and it was while she was on Voyager and coming into my awareness she was desperately searching for her, trying to find her, and did in fact find her. I had no rational way knowing any of that deeply personal information. I felt it anyway; deeply. In fact, it changed my life.

Which comes to emotional attraction. I really wanted to be an actor or an author. I don’t think I can memorize or anymore, my aphasia makes it extremely difficult to ad lib/improvise because there are road blocks where i cannot spontaneously retrieve the words i’m looking for. I don’t know if i’ll ever finish a novel, i’m hoping just to finish a lengthy fanfic at this point and then see what comes. A year ago i was doing much better, now it just feels like i’m under attack on all sides. But i feel a strong emotional attraction to artistic people in general.

This sometimes manifests as a sexual attraction for a short time. Sometimes. I can fantasize about a physical attraction...usually in the form of me comforting or being comforted. Sharing burdens. If i know that someone i’m attracted to or love is hurting then it hurts me, often with actual physical sensations (again with the spiritual connections). This tends to cause me to feel as if i “know people” or am kindred spirits with actors, authors, singers, etc. Again, i will sometimes know things that there’s no reason for me to know and is often pointless since it doesn’t enable me to comfort them when they don’t even know i exist.

I am generally okay with this, though it’s sometimes overwhelming. Sometime it feels like an inside joke or shared experience (rare for me outside family members) and gives me ecstatic joy. It’s really weird being an empath.

But again back to being demi: characters (or even the actors who play them) will sometimes feel like friends or family. Sometimes it translates to romantic or sexual attraction: this is very rare. It’s happened a handful of times, but it leaves me feeling completely broken. Why can’t i just be a normal person with normal relationships? Generally it is a positive thing because getting to share their experiences (through reading or watching) gives me a fair amount of feeling accepted, having someone to care for, and hope.

I am a very isolated person. I don’t currently have any RL friends. Most of my support network tends to be online but i don’t really have that going on for me since my last breakup (mutual friends seemed to stick with him, though one friend that was my friend first has since decided that he’s completely nuts and conveniently forgotten that she was the one to introduce us and encourage the pairing). And i know i’m weird but i actually don’t mind that. Having friends that live around the world? That have similar interests? But that i don’t have to get dressed and go outside my comfort zone to hang out with? Awesome.

A year ago i was living somewhere very isolated but i was in a good place because i was supporting myself, had been working full time and making career progress for the better part of a year, was okayish with being single, I had my new kitten, I was mostly happy. It would have been the ideal time for me to start a relationship. And i was actually feeling attracted to a coworker! Like that hadn’t happened for me in nearly twenty years!

But he didn’t want to be more. He wanted me to be the friend he went to to unload his emotional issues on. He didn’t want others to know. He didn’t want to be more than “professional” (it wasn’t professional what was going on, not really). And then COVID hit and everything started falling apart. Things had been wrong with that job that i was trying to stay separate from. Drama, potentially criminal actions, emotional outbursts. I got singed a few times. I knew that another coworker hated me. 

The second time they laid me off i packed everything up and moved back home. Upper management had been getting scary. I could tell that Grandma was reaching the end of her life and wanted to be near family. Which led to my last job, which i loved at first but couldn’t keep up with physically and that started to degrade my mental/emotional state. And then grandma died and i fell apart.

I’ve been trying to pull things back together. I really enjoy my current job but i don’t know if it will work out in the long term. The way the economy is going again...it’s scary. When Obama became president his policies were really punishing for the area. I had just graduated from college and couldn’t find full time work. I worked 2-3 part time jobs and lived with my parents because that was all i could afford. 

I went out on a couple of very large limbs trying to better my situation (teaching in Japan, CLD school) and neither has really. They were amazing opportunities but i get homesick. But then when i am here that’s bad for me emotionally. I need to find some sort of balance, and it’s looking like that balance is for me to live somewhere removed from family and only visit a couple times of years. Which i hate to do but i think i need those boundaries for my emotional well being. But i don’t know how i have a hope in hell of affording any of that. I have a couple of months left to figure it out before my lease is up on my apartment, i need to figure things out by then.

So all of this...i’m not trying to complain here. I know that i tend to come off that way because i’m just honest and matter of fact about things. This is the way things are in my experience. I’ve tried various ways to improve them. The reason i’m recording them is not to illicit pity. It’s so people who don’t have to deal with these issues can catch a glimpse of what it’s like and for others who deal with anxiety and depression can see that they’re not alone. That’s a huge deal. Wherever you are in your journey, you’re not alone, it may be a fight unique to your situation, but you’re not alone. Other people are suffering, too, and it’s not a competition. It’s okay.

I know that being single has its benefits. Living alone with a cat is not something i hate as a rule, let me tell you. What i do hate is not having two or more incomes coming into a household. It is extremely difficult in this day and age to make it alone. I don’t want to worry about anything but money is probably that biggest temptation. It leads to feeling like i’m trapped.

That’s probably why many relationships develop (a need for security) but i’m...i say it is like being broken. Maybe i am because of the PTSD. Maybe it’s just my normal for someone on the spectrum (and let me tell you that even claiming this as part of my identity triggers my imposter syndrome...all of this does really. I didn’t have to deal with the same level of physical abuse that many do so why can’t i just get over it, right?). But i dealt with enough that i cannot form relationships on convenience. I have to feel safe. I want to find someone who i could trust to raise kids with, to go the distance with.

Have i said yet that i tend to overthink things? 

I know that there’s not many of you who will have read this far. Thank you. Writing is part of my process in getting things reorganized in my shit show of a brain/heart/etc. The bottom line of this...i am improving grief wise, last night not withstanding. But i still want more. It’s my birthday and Christmas and it’s the hardest time for me in a way. Because it feels like i’m out of time. Another year has been lost forever. Have i made any progress at all? And it feels as if it’s already too late. My main goal in life was to become a mother and i can’t even have casual sex to manage it. I just can’t.

But there are spiritual things i’m trying to work through. That i don’t feel comfortable sharing here, really. Just i wonder about soul mates and twin flames and dreams/visions. I don’t know what the right choice is. Not for sure. And that is killing me because i want to know God’s will and do it. And i’m an impatient person who’s been waiting a particularly long time and i can’t say that i’ve gotten any better at it.