#so good that she’s finished her chemo

[princessanneftw]

A message from Catherine, The Princess of Wales.

[erythristicbones]

.

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Star Beast - Part Eight

Excerpts from Benjamin Cook's Star Beast Set Visit - discussing the Camden night shoots:

Is nobody here having a bad time?? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THEM? "I had a little lull earlier," admits David, "at 2AM when we were waiting to turn over- I definitely yawned, maybe twice - but then the blood starts pumping again." Wrap isn't till 3AM. David lives across town. Isn't he worried he'll wake up his family when he gets in? "Listen, the kids are at Davison's," he says (this is Fifth Doctor actor Peter Davison, who happens to be David's father-in-law), "so I'm full of beans. Oh, and sugar. Do you want some?" He's bought a churro from a market stall that's stayed open because it's very much in shot. "You can have more than that." He breaks me off a bigger piece. "The sugar rush will do you good." He offers the director [ Rachel Talalay ] some too: "Go on, Rachel, you deserve it." "Are you doing OK?" she asks him. "Yeah! Sugar! I'll move on to the Yorkie bars next. I give not a fudge at this time in the morning." He claps his hands, dusting off the sugar from his churro. "But are you OK?" "I am at this moment," she says, waving to some fans. "Tomorrow at 4:30AM I might not be. Ask me again then." "You do get a lot of love from the fans, don't you?" says David. "In a tiny way, which is just lovely. I mean, I'm not you," she says, with a laugh. "I love hearing them scream for you. But I'm not used to any of this. And… I think it's stopped raining." "OK, here we go," says Scott. "Let's go for one. Stand by then, folks…" They go for another take. And another. When I catch up with Rachel later – much later, it’s October 2023, and she’s chatting over Zoom from her home in Vancouver – we’re five weeks away from The Star Beast airing on TV. “I didn’t know quite how well the episode was working,” she says, “till my family watched an almost-finished cut. I came downstairs, and my two girls were crying. It was like, oh, OK, this does work! And on a much, much deeper level too. To have them go, ‘We knew it would be full of joy’ – which I think it is – ‘but we didn’t expect it to be so emotional,’ that was very satisfying. It was an emotional time all round.” It was. In more ways than one. Which is something that Rachel wants to talk about – here in DWM – for the first time publicly. “I think I can now,” she says, “because I’m close to two years in remission. I will be this month. Two years in remission. And Doctor Who really helped heal me. Directing Doctor Who while I was only a couple of months post-chemo.” A deep breath. “I had lymphoma,” she explains. “I’d been in chemo for seven or eight months. I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive. Then I was offered The Star Beast. I thought, I’ve got to do this. I didn’t tell anybody I was sick. I hadn’t told anybody except very close family. And I didn’t tell anyone on Doctor Who till I was there long enough to say, ‘Look, I’m well enough, so I don’t want you worried about me.’ Because, frankly, I don’t know that they’d have wanted to hire someone who might not have made it through the shoot. I totally get that. That’s fair enough. [...] “I could not have been surrounded by a more supportive crew,” says Rachel. “The best crew in the world. When I realised, it’s all night shoots, I thought, oh god, and I’m two months post-chemo. But that crew – David especially – made those night shoots so fun. It’s weird now, because I look back at the pictures – like that lovely one of me and David you published last issue – and that was my chemo hair. I was just getting my hair back. But I got healthier and healthier, stronger and stronger, as the shoot went on. When I got back to Canada, the doctor said, ‘You’re a poster child for how well someone can do after chemo. This is what people are capable of.’ “But it’s just what you do,” she reflects, “isn’t it? – when you love Doctor Who in your heart so much. There was no better place for me than Doctor Who.”

Additional parts of this set are in the #whoBtsBeast tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

[mamaspark]

A very important person in my life received a cancer diagnosis recently. He will have chemo, surgery and more chemo. He will be fighting for his life. He us a big U of M (Michigan) fan. I decided he needed a quilt to take with him to his chemo and for napping. So I bought some fabric and made this top in 2 days. I adore this pattern and have made it several times now. It’s a free pattern by the Empty Bobbin Sewing Studio. It never disappoints! It’s with my quilter now. The backing I ordered won’t be to her until Monday so she will have to mail it to me to finish as I’ll be out of town. I had hoped to give it in person but don’t want to wait so will mail it to my friend.

I had LOTS of help as I was sewing it. Roary seems to think her job is to help with the piecing, lol.

I worked at U of M for almost 40 years. Their fight song is Hail to the Victors. I’m praying he is victorious in his fight! Would appreciate your prayers, good thoughts and positive healing energy 💙💛💙

Since I went to MSU(BIG) rivalry, he is one of the only people I would use these colors to make a quilt for!

[sillyteecup]

"Mercy" is her word

Roman Reigns x black!reader

Warnings:

18+

Strong language

Implied violence

Actual violence

Suggestive content

A.N: I was gonna make this one little drabble, but then I decided to make a 2-parter. Also, Haunted by Beyonce kinda gave me the idea to write this and the song is the vibe for the whole thing anyway. Anyway, hope you linke it. Enjoy❤️

In this world, the wicked never rest. Not physically, not mentally, and definitely not emotionally.

One would think that after all the death Roman had seen and caused, he'd be impervious to the stinger of heartbreak. Yet they pinched and poked at his heart as the spotlight hit to reveal her ready form. Her radiance never failed to burn holes into his cold and hardened exterior. Maybe that's why he kept coming back to this God forsaken club.

Perhaps to find himself at the mercy of a less forgiving goddess instead.

The music began and so did her dance. Roman watched intently as she gracefully moved about the stage. Every sway of her hips, stretch of her legs and parting of her plump lips carved remnants of their past escapades into his mind.

Nostalgia truly was a cold hearted bitch.

His neck craned when she moved into an arched position, like a majestic panther on the hunt for her prey, looking for some rich sucker to hypnotize with her being. He wished he'd been close enough to be considered as a tribute but alas, Jimmy and Jey preferred the top VIP booth for a better view and to conduct business without much interruption.

Little did they know that as long as she drew breath, his mind was not his own, but merely an extension of her.

Soon she pounced on her chosen victim, straddling him and dusting the excess lint from his probably cheap suit jacket, and kneading him into a heap of a mindless ball of dough with a just a look into his eyes. A spell he'd likely never break out of, that will drive him to come back here every Tuesday to empty his pockets into her cleavage.

A spell Roman was all too familiar with. Not that it meant anything to her anymore. A fact that haunted his thoughts and dreams.

Having finished the job on the poor loser who left a very generous tip in the front of her corset top, she moved back onto the stage that was now littered in well deserved dollar bills. She gracefully reached the closing of her performance, making brief eye contact with Roman.

What was probably 3 seconds, felt like an eternity to both of them. His longing browns connected with hers that spiraled with different emotions. Sadness, annoyance, nostalgia....you name it. But it was short lived as she refocused her attention to the end of her dance as the music was coming to an end.

Finally the lights went off and the club filled with loud boisterous cheers and hands clapping in appreciation. Without a second thought, Roman stood up from his seat with a mission on his mind. He was gonna make things right by her. At all costs.

He ignored his cousins questions and protests as he left the booth and navigated his way to her dressing room. Having been there so many times, the short journey felt like muscle memory. Finally he arrived at his destination and was met with her door left slightly ajar.

That's new. It's usually locked.

That's when he heard the yelling. Her boss Vince's familiar voice rang through the small space, followed by her yelling right back.

"Vince you don't understand! The hospital bills from Carl's chemo are drowning me...I need this!" she pleaded. The sound of her choked up voice begging Vince tore at Roman's heartstrings.

How he wished they were still on good terms. Maybe then she could've asked him for help. Then again she was always the headstrong type who preferred to work for the money instead of relying on favours.

As much as he admired that about her, he still wanted her to let him take care of her.

"No, Kiara, you don't understand! Your problems are none of my concern and therefore none of my money's concern. Now are you gonna be a good little bitch and hand over my cut-" he heard Vince snarl.

"Fuck you, you sick, greedy, old bastard-" she was interrupted by an ear ringing slap.

He peeked through the space and saw Kiara holding her cheek in disbelief as tears threatened to escape her eyes. The sight sent him into a blind rage that drove him to barge into the room right as Vince had his hand raised to land another slap, and grab his wrist, damn near breaking it.

"Roman? What the fuck!?" he hear Kiara yell, choosing to ignore her for now.

Roman grabbed the older man by his jacket and pinned him against a nearby wall. "R-Roman, what are you doing here?" Vince said chuckling nervously. "It's not what it looks like, I swear."

"Really? Because I could've sworn I saw you not only slap her, but also fix your wrinkly ass hand to do it again! Unless my eyes deceive me...Do they deceive me Vince?" Roman demanded, giving the man the opportunity to tell the truth. Something Vince was known to be allergic to.

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about," Vince lied in true Vince fashion.

Roman clicked his tongue. His jaw clenched and the veins in his neck strained as he fought to simmer his boiling temper.

Thou shalt not kill the man who currently puts food on his goddesses table. No matter how much it pains him. No matter how much more he could give to her. Her grace always comes first.

"See, I'm gonna do something I don't do often Vince. I'm gonna grant you a fucking curtesy. You're gonna let Kiara keep all the money, then you're gonna get the fuck out of here, and in return, I'm gonna let you keep your worthless life," he warned Vince in a dangerously low tone. 

Taking Roman's words with gratitude, Vince nodded vigorously, thanking Roman for his kindness. However Roman wasn't done.

"Shh, I'm not finished. If you even think about firing Kiara or finding any other fucked up ways to make her life difficult, it will be the end of yours. Do you understand me?"

Vince had turned beet red in fear, sweating harder than a summer rain. "I understand, my Tribal Chief," he agreed hastily, not forgetting to address Roman correctly. After all, his every breath was at the Tribal Chief's mercy.

Kiara's mercy.

Roman stepped back from Vince, loosening his grip on the older man's jacket before smoothening it out. "Out," he commanded gruffly, tilting his head towards the door, to which Vince obeyed by immediately dashing out of the room.

As soon as the door slammed closed, Roman turned to Kiara, who stood by her vanity fuming. He had expected her to be upset by his meddling, but he knew that this damage was controllable. Well, if he found a way to fix the damage he had done prior 3 weeks ago.

"Kiki-" he began only to be interrupted by her cutting tone.

"Don't. Don't you dare try and pull that sweet shit after the shit you just did," she said coldly. Again, to be expected.

He held his hands up in surrender as he took a cautious step towards her. He hoped she would recognize this as a sign that he meant no harm. Physical or emotional. Her guard, however, showed no signs of relenting. Her trust in him had waned into a piece of thread. So he kneeled before her; a silent appeal to her unforgiving nature, a plea for her mercy.

Oh how the tables turn

Kira's steely glare softened at the familiar gesture. Roman had left his power at the door. He had come to her, not as the untouchable and damn near godly Tribal Chief, but as a mere mortal who bleeds from his skin and his heart.

"Please." A single word that wouldn't have held even a shred of weight coming from any other man. But to Kiara, this wasn't any other man. This was Roman, the man who if she would let him, would burn the world to it's last ash just to keep her warm. The man who she held dear to her heart mind and soul for the short time she had known him. The only man she would shed her iron skin to reveal her soul to.

The only man she had come to love.

"Fine. You have 15 minutes."

[dearestro]

Hello, welcome to Tumblr.

I would like to make a request to James Wilson, a reader who is also a doctor and new to the hospital.

And being a flirt, she asks James Wilson on a date, eventually they become a couple.

Thanks for you attention and have a nice day.

Flirtatious Feelings

Disclaimer: I know nothing about healthcare and diseases. Also, I used Google Translate.

Summary: Reader has just started working at Princeton-Plainsboro and after seeing the cute older doctor. Well, she decides to have some fun...who knew it would turn into more?

Warnings: Innuendos and crude language.

Part 2

Your Pov

"And that concludes the tour. Now I'll introduce you to your mentor." Dr. Cuddy explained as we stopped at an office belonging to a Dr. James Wilson. I couldn't believe it. I was finally going to be actively working as a doctor.

She knocked on the door and I heard a soft 'Come in.' After looking at me she opened the door and gestured me inside.

"Dr. Wilson, this is Dr. y/n l/n. She's your new trainee oncologist." The man looked up at me. He was cute, brown hair, brown eyes, and definitely older. He smiled at me and got up to shake my hand.

"Dr. Wilson, pleasure to me you." I grasped it as he introduced himself. Oh yeah he's definitely cute.

"Pleasure's all mine." I shook his hand and winked. What? I didn't see a ring. He blushed deeply and let go of my hand.

"Well now that you two have met you can resume your work. Good bye and good luck!" And with that Dr. Cuddy had left.

"So um... I have to set up a patient's chemotherapy. I don't suppose you could handle that as I talk to them?" He seemed to be having a little trouble making eye contact. Poor thing.

"Of course. Lead the way...doctor." I smirked at him.

Once we got to the patient he introduced me and starting to explain what was going on while I got to work on the iv. I had tuned most of it out so as to focus and get it in on the first try.

I had finally got it in and plugged in the medicine. I was making sure it was all alright so asked Wilson to turn on the chemo.

"Turn me on doctor." When nothing happened I turned to see a red faced Wilson.

"Ex-excuse me?" He stuttered. I only smiled at him and pointed to the machine. "Right...of course." He quickly turned it on and after he finished talking to the patient we moved on to the next.

Wilson's Pov

It was lunch and I patiently waited for House to join me and inevitably steal my food. He finally walked in and sat across from me.

"What's the matter? Panties in a twist?" I looked at him and was about to protest but he cut me off. "Oh save it. You're obviously upset about something." He grabbed my plate. "I mean you didn't even try to stop me from taking your food today." I rolled my eyes. Debating if I should actually tell him or not.

"I'm mentoring a new oncologist." I finally gave in.

"Ohh. Are they stupid? Ugly? You can say it I won't judge." I sighed at his comment.

"Actually she is the exact opposite." He perked up at that. "She's incredibly smart, quite attractive, and very bold."

"I don't see the problem. If I were you I'd hit that." I rolled my eyes. "Unless of course the problem is...you want to hit that." I glared at his crude language.

"No I do not want to 'hit that'. It's just..." I once again debated on telling him the details...but then again who else was I going to tell? "She winked at me when we first met, then when we were with a patient she said 'Turn me on doctor.' And then when she was passing a file to a patient she leaned over me with her breasts practically shoved in my face. There's something about her. I don't know if she means anything or if it's all a coincidence." I finally looked up at House and awaited his reaction. He started cackling.

"So your problem is that a girl might be flirting with you?" I grimaced under his stare. "Oh. The problem is that you want it to be intentional. You like like her. Wilson's got a girlfriend. Wilson's got a girlfriend!" He started singing right as she walked into the cafeteria and starting walking towards us. "What you can't take a joke anymore?" He asked confused.

"She's coming!" I whispered. He turned to look but I hit him. "Don't look you idiot!"

Your Pov

I had found the cafeteria and saw Dr. Wilson. Seeing as I know no one else...and for other reasons...I approached his table. He was sitting with a taller, older man.

"Dr. Wilson! Good to see you again!" I greeted as the other turned to look at me.

"Holy shit."

"Excuse me?" I asked the man.

"Sorry about him. This is Dr. House. House this is my trainee...Dr. l/n." I looked between the two boys as they looked like I had barged in on a secret meeting before extending my hand to Dr. House.

"Pleasure to meet you." I smiled.

"Pleasure's all mine." He winked at me.

"I'm sure it is." I laughed at the older man's obvious flirting. "Anyways I just wanted to say hi seeing as I don't know anyone else." I said as I turned to Wilson who seemed shocked at what he just saw. "So...hi." I smiled at him. That seemed to knock him out of it.

"Oh. Hi." He stared up at me. "Uh...would you...would you like to join us?" I smiled at the invitation.

"Sure! But I have to go get my lunch...would you like me to get yours too?" I asked seeing as he had no plate in front of him. He only stared with a goofy look on his face. Did I mention this man was cute?

"Huh?" I pointed at the empty space in front of him at the table. He snapped out of his trance "Oh right. Um no it's fine. Thank you though." I said a small 'ok' and went off to get my lunch.

Wilson's Pov

"Way to be subtle loverboy." I turned to House.

"What?"

"Come on! You stared at her the entire time and then watched her as she left to get lunch. She has a great ass by the way same with the tits. I swear if you don't go after her I will." I shook my head at his words.

"I can't go after her. She's younger than me. Besides we both know how my love life goes."

"Yeah it's shit. But come on she could just be a fling. You don't need a big relationship." He argued. I rolled my eyes, he really didn't get it.

"And then I have to work with her for the rest of my life and it's awkward. Great plan!" I said sarcastically. He only scoffed. "Wait shut up. Here she comes."

Your Pov

After I got back to the boys we all talked together and House continuously hit on me while Wilson apologized for him and stared at me. Over all? It was awkward but nice. Now was the end of the work day and after spending the entire afternoon ruffling Wilson's feathers I decided to go for it. I mean what's the worst that could happen?

I was about to leave when Wilson asked if he could walk me out to my car. We finally got to my car and we were alone. It's now or never.

"Hey wait! So do you want to go on a date?" I asked. I tried to sound confident but it was starting to crack as I saw him just stare at me. "James?" He jolted out of the trance.

"Right! I-I would love to!" I smiled and reached into my purse for the scrap of paper I had prepared in case this went well.

"Great! So here's my number and address...pick me up at 8?" I asked, hoping he didn't have plans. He looked at the paper and then up at me.

"Uh. Sure! See you at 8 then." He seemed flustered. I smiled at him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"See you." And with that I left to get ready for my date.

I got home with 45 minutes to get ready. I quickly freshened up, chose a simple black dress that could easily go from day to night since I didn't know where we were going, put on some makeup with red lipstick to make it pop, and black kitten heels. By the time everything was finished and ready I heard my apartment doorbell ring. I quickly walked over to answer it, hoping I didn't look overdressed.

When I opened the door I was faced with Dr. Wilson. He had on a different button down shirt from earlier and slacks. I smiled at him and asked him in for a quick drink. I had him sit on the couch well I went to get some water for the both of us before we left.

"You have a lovely apartment Dr. l/n." I could hear the uneasiness in his voice. I chuckled.

"Thank you but please call me y/n." I entered with our drinks. He looked me up and down.

"Right o-of course." He blushed. "You look wonderful. Suddenly I feel underdressed." I sat down next to him and smirked.

"Not nearly enough." I winked as he turned scarlet. I giggled at his reaction. "Anyways...where would you like to go?"

"Me?" He pointed at himself. I shook my head holding back a laugh at the confused expression on his face.

"Yes, you. We can go to a club, bar, restaurant, hell we could go to McDonald's for all I care!" I laughed while he shook his head in amusement.

"Well, there's a nice bar a few blocks away if you're interested. " I just smiled at him and off we went.

We were a few drinks in just talking about our lives when the bartender came up with a drink.

"Compliments of the man at that table." She pointed to a man in the corner of the house who winked at me. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the tender.

"Not that I want to be wasteful, but can you just dump it? You can never be too careful...besides I'm on a date." I placed my hand on Jame's and smiled at him. I could tell he was getting a little antsy at the situation. She nodded politely and dumped the drink, and I turned to James. "So where were we?" We continued talking when the next thing I know is I'm being turned around. I looked up to see the man from earlier maliciously smirking down at me.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing with this guy?" I frowned at the situation, but he continued. "You know it isn't polite to waste a drink someone's bought for you." The more he eyed me like a piece of meat, the more nervous I got, but I tried not to show it. "Why don't you trade that lemon for a Mustang." He motioned towards James and then himself. I scoffed. This guy is disgusting.

"Oh, I already did. You see, I used to date a guy like you...ya know a 'lemon'. But now I've got my Mustang and I'm happier than ever." I rubbed Jame's thigh to prove my point. The guy scoffed and walked off, thankfully deciding not to cause a scene. I smirked and turned back to James, who seemed a little shocked. My brow furrowed at his expression. "Are you ok?" He shook his head like he was knocked out of deep thought.

"Yeah! Yeah. I'm ok." He looked up at me and grasped my hand that was still on his thigh. "You didn't have to do that. You know." I shook my head.

"Nonsense. You're my hot date, and everyone should know it. Especially that sleaze." I smiled as he lightly chuckled. "Anyways. You were saying you went to McGill? That's in Montreal right?" He nodded. "Did you pick up any French?"

"At the time, yeah. But I'm quite rusty." He said as if he knew what my next question would be. "I'm not so sure I can speak it anymore, though." I softly smiled as I brought our hands up to the table.

"Can you try? For me?" I tried. He laughed at my lame attempt of puppy dog eyes.

"Um...Je ne comprends pas pourquoi une belle jeune fille comme toi veut sortir avec un mec comme moi." (I don't understand why a beautiful young girl like you wants to date a guy like me.) I frowned at his broken response.

"Simple, vous êtes doux, gentil, attentionné et indéniablement beau." (Simple, you are sweet, kind, caring, and undeniably handsome.) I cupped his face in my hands so that we met eyes and smiled sweetly.

"You-you speak French?" He stuttered as his cheeks grew warm. I nodded.

"What can I say? In high-school it was either Spanish or French. I'm a sucker for romance." I shrugged. I looked behind him and saw a pool table. I stood up and tugged him behind me.

"You played me?" I laughed a little, still dragging him along until we got to the table.

"Maybe...let's play pool!"

[caesariawritesstuff]

1k Kudos

A few days ago, I noticed that Cat & Mouse hit 1k kudos. Since then, I've been trying to find the words to express just how grateful and in awe I am of everyone who's read, Kudos'd, commented, made fanart/fan works, or simply supported Cat & Mouse over the last three years.

People may or may not know this, but at the time I started writing Cat & Mouse, my mom had recently been diagnosed with Stage 3A breast cancer that had spread to her lymph nodes. Prognosis seemed good: she was in chemo, had plans for radiation and a mastectomy, and things were going well - until they weren't. I don't what to go too much into specifics, but as my mom's health began to decline rapidly, Cat & Mouse became my savior. It became a world I could escape into while waiting for my mom to finish her chemo, or late nights when I stayed up listening to her sleep, or when I desperately needed to be somewhere else mentally. In a way, Cat & Mouse has become my diary of sorts.

I never thought this story would get past Chapter 1. It had been almost a decade since I'd written fanfiction, and I thought I would just write a little bit and be done - but the immediate reception to this story, and how much it began to comfort me, pressed me forward. Since then, Cat & Mouse has transformed me in so many ways I cannot imagine. I've seen and heard from so many people who love this story, and I cannot tell you how much it means to that people support it at all and have poured their precious time into reading it, leaving comments, making art, or simply stopping by to leave a kudos. There's a special place in my heart for Cat & Mouse, and there always will be. It came to me at a time I desperately needed an outlet, and three years later, it's still my comfort (if not my own perfectionist project that drives me a little bit crazy sometimes).

Cat & Mouse is already long as hell, but I have too many ideas to stop now - and I have no intention of stopping. I know this is probably sappy, but I just want everyone to know how grateful I am, and I just want to say thank you.

[invisibleraven]

doing their makeup for them / rose & julie

Rose went over her checklist-food, flowers, music-all checked off. The decorations were all being put up, the staff working tirelessly to capture her vision for Julie's quinceanera.

Look, Rose's body might be being ravaged by cancer and chemo both, and she was more exhausted than anything, but she had vowed that she was giving her daughter a quinces to remember.

"Hey, time for a break?" Ray asked, easing the checklist from her grip.

"I just want it to be perfect," she whispered. "I don't know if this is the last birthday I'll get to see..."

"Don't talk like that," Ray admonished. "The chemo is working, You've got decades ahead of you."

"I wish I had your faith," Rose admitted, leaning into his arms. "I want Julie to have this one perfect night that every girl deserves."

"Well how about you help her get ready?" Ray suggested. "Instead of micromanaging here? You'll be too tired to enjoy it at this rate."

"I thought she and Flynn were getting ready together?"

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind some help from her mami."

Rose smiled, kissing him before heading home, finding the girls finishing up their hair and giggling together. She knocked gently on the door. "Hey, do you need any help?"

"Hi Mami," Julie waved her in. "We were about to do our make up and nails if you want to help-or I could do yours?"

Rose knew her skin had grown pale and sickly since she got diagnosed, hardly the healthy glow she used to sport. She didn't hide her illness, proudly sporting her bald head and pallid skin. Tonight she had planned for a wig and a touch of blush, just so the focus was off her, but that was all.

"Sure mija, just nothing too wild okay?"

Julie beamed, gathering her supplies, while Flynn motioned she was going to give them a moment and top up their snacks. Rose was grateful to her, wanting this moment with her daughter.

"You know, in the eyes of the community, today you become an adult. A heavy burden for fifteen."

Julie hummed as she gently applied concealer to her skin. "Is this the part where you tell me I'll always be your little girl?"

Rose snorted at that, giving Julie a gentle shove. "Meanie."

"Learned from the best," Julie replied, dusting powder next, then adding blush. "I feel like I've already become an adult. These past few months have sucked."

"They have," Rose surmised, then taking Julie's hands in hers, letting the tube of mascara fall to the bed. "And I'm sorry that you've felt you've had to step up or grow up too quickly. Even if I am so proud of the woman I can see you becoming."

Julie sniffled at that, swiping at her watery eyes. "I... thank you."

Rose squeezed her hands, then gave her the mascara back. "No eyelashes, so maybe we could do lips instead?"

Julie gave a wet little laugh and pulled out a few tubes, letting Rose pick a dusky mauve shade with a little shimmer. "So how many times do you think papi will step on my feet during our dance?"

Rose cackled at that. "Know how bad of a dancer your father is-a lot. I hope you have good shoes."

"Think Tia would faint if I wore my combat boots?"

They giggled over that, Flynn coming back and insisting they needed to get Julie's makeup done now so they could do the dress. Rose offered to do that if Flynn would tackle the nails.

They worked together, giving Julie''s face a soft golden glow with a dramatic lined eye and nude lip to compliment her sparkly black and gold dress while Flynn tackled the nails making them match the gold in the dress with black tips.

Flynn did her own face while Rose grabbed the dress, helping Julie into it-it wasn't nearly as voluminous as a traditional quinces dress, but it was gorgeous and made Julie light up like never before.

"Mija..."

"I know," Julie said, hugging her mother. "Thank you so much for planning this night. I'll make sure that your next birthday is just as grand."

Rose wanted to say she wasn't sure she had another birthday in her, give Julie advice for the years she wasn't sure she would be here for. But she didn't, she couldn't bring this evening down. Instead she offered her daughter a soft smile and tugged an errant curl back behind her ear.

"You two go on, I'm sure papi is waiting for some photos. I'm going to go get ready and meet you down there."

The girls took off, and Rose smiled, watching them go before shrugging on her own dress, adjusting the wig on her head. Looking so much like her old self that she had to let out a sob for all she had lost, and all she had left to lose.

She quickly gathered herself, fixing the smudged makeup and plastering a smile on her face. It was Julie's night, she wasn't going to bring it down.

And went off to make sure she got a few pictures with her family, so no matter what, the memory of tonight would stay with them as a happy one even if she wasn't there to remember it with them.

Though in the end? Rose got to show those pictures of her grandchildren, and none of them saw her illness-only commenting how pretty both she and Julie were. And asking if she would plan her granddaughter's quinces as well.

"Of course I will," Rose promised, and couldn't wait to recreate the photo with her family, all these years later.

[lina-lovebug]

Bleeding Hearts

Part 7

Taglist: @silverhowe @happycupcakeenthusiast @vampire-hunter @simpforavillain @dumb-fawkin-bitch @mushroomlover13 @kimqueenofhell @vane28282 @namor-is-the-way @daaiissyyyyy @anyzandy @pturnersblog @cherrychupachup

Miles pov

Years ago, on Earth. . .

The love of my life was dying.

At the age of ten, my love was diagnosed with lung cancer. It was unexpected, and it happened over the course of a week.

During class, she started to seize and she was taken away in an ambulance. Her lungs were filled with liquid and with hundreds of tests done, it was confirmed she has stage two lung cancer.

She was pulled out of school, but that didn't keep me from her. Every day, like clockwork, I took a bus to the hospital to visit room 23.

And over the course of a few years, she kept getting worse.

Her parents didn't want her to do chemo, but it was her only chance of living. Her eyes were sunken in, but the sparkle was still there. Her spirit was breaking but she was still smiling. Her curly hair was coming off in clumps but she insisted she looked better bald.

I wanted to see her get better.

I wanted to see her out of here.

"Nina," I said one day, catching her attention as the nurse finished taking her blood.

"Yes?"

"Once you're better, I'm gonna marry you," Her eyes widened.

"Wh-what the fuck? Miles, don't joke about stuff like that-"

"I'm not joking. I love you, and I've been in love with you since we were kids. I'll join the military and get us a house, and you'll never have to worry about anything ever again, I swear to you," She started to cry and at first, I thought my feelings weren't reciprocated.

But she kissed me and said yes.

I had asked her fathers permission beforehand. I wanted him to know that his daughter would be taken care of, and that I would always be by her side. Her mother was hesitant, but they both knew that if I waited any longer, I would regret never telling her.

Date nights were spent in her room. I would pick up her favorites and new things to try, just to see the reaction on her face when she found something else she liked.

One night, I had fallen asleep in the room. I was going to head home, since visiting hours were done, but she wanted me to stay.

I fell asleep with her hand in mine, my back getting used to the chair I would find myself taking naps in.

Suddenly, I heard a blaring alarm. My eyes snapped open and turned to Nina, who was seizing.

“Nina!” I tried running to her side but doctors were already forcing me out. Her eyes were on mine as I was being dragged out, and she tried speaking but no words would leave her lips.

“Please, help her!”

“You can’t be in here, Miles,” One of the nurses said, closing the door infront of me. I rushed to the side window, trying to see what was going on and luckily, they didn’t close the blinds. They turned her on her side, forcing out her IV and her body wouldn’t stop shaking.

You’ll be okay.

They’ll save you, just like they always do.

But her heart rate was going down. Rapidly.

“Hey!” I screamed, banging on the glass.

“Hey, don’t you give up on me! Nina, you need to fight!” Love can make you blind. I was so convinced that she would be out of there that I ignored how skinny she had gotten, and how pale she was. I wanted so badly to believe that she would get out so I could marry her that I didn’t even see it.

She wanted to die.

She was tired of fighting.

And it stopped.

The monitor that always beeps repeatedly, all day and everyday, had stopped.

That’s when the screaming started. I wanted it to be a nightmare. I wanted to wake up as my fists repeatedly hit the glass window, ignoring the pain and the blood. I couldn’t see reason because there couldn’t be any good one. What reason was there to take such a beautiful person away? What reason was there to take her away?

Why couldn’t I just see her smile one more time?

All those thoughts were racing through my mind as I stared at the DNA results infront of me.

Ninat’ia, a Na’vi, perfectly matched the DNA results of Nina Gonzales, who died in 2120.

This felt like a punch to the gut. Like the world was saying “fuck you”.

“Anything come up?” General Ardmore questioned from the doorway.

“Nah, just some bullshit,” I replied, trying to keep my composure as I clicked delete.

Just absolute bullshit.

[shinestarhwaa]

FLASH || JUNG WOOYOUNG

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Wooyoung x fem reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings/tags: Hospital patients Wooyoung and reader, inexperienced reader, mentions of sex, mentions of death, illness (cancer), major character death, Yunho is Y/N's favourite nurse, kinda friends to lovers, tell me if I forgot anything

@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @veronicasawyerschainsaw @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

ENJOY!

It all had gone by in a flash, your life. You wished you had appreciated it more. Maybe if you had, you wouldn't feel so desperate to get out of his hospital bed to make memories.

You sighed deeply. 'Did I deserve this?' you frequently asked yourself. You weren't a bad person, you were sure of that. But how could you accept that your breasts were the cause of all this mess.

"Good morning, Y/N, I see you're up already!"

The cheerful nurse Yunho never failed to make you smile, at least a little. "Yeah, I am, stupid birds won't stop chirping."

"Oh come on, it's spring, it's a good thing, a happy thing, right?" Yunho said, petting your head as he examined your stats.

"You have an appointment with dr. Nakamura at 3 to talk about your treatment right?" Yunho asked as he said next to your bed.

You had been here for a while, trying to treat the cancer with chemo, but nothing worked. Now, there was a big chance your breasts had to be amputated. It killed you. You don't know why you cared so much, but they were your breasts.

Heck, no one had even touched them yet, and they were taken away from you. Who would touch you now? Ever? Kiss you? You sighed.

"Yep, gonna have a man tell me my boobies will have to fly out the window," you said as you played with the bracelet on your wrist. Never give up, it said.

A bracelet your friend had made for you, before she passed away during her brain surgery. You missed her.

"Fly out the window? That'll be a bizarre and kind of nasty thing to see. Imagine you're walking out in the garden and suddenly there's a breast."

You couldn't help but laugh. Yunho always made you laugh.

.

.

Back in your room, you laid in your bed again, while your mother hung up some pictures of you and your friends on the board behind you, after you complained about the white hospital walls.

"Look, this is better isn't it?" your mother said as she was finished with the decorations. You gave her a weak smile, appreciating the help. But you didn't have the energy to give her a real one.

She kissed the top of your head and took her bag. "I'll have to go now, pick up your brother from his training, and cook...," she sighed. You knew she hated leaving you alone.

"I'm a grown up mom, I'll be fine, go home," you said as you kissed her cheek. You said your goodbyes and sighed deeply when the door closed, only for it to open again in a matter of seconds.

"What's a girl gotta do to get a little rest and quiet in here?" you sighed.

"Well, aren't you a sunshine."

An unfamiliar voice and it's laughter filled the emptyness of the room. You looked up, and your eyes were met by a lively boy, probably around your age.

His dark hair was parted in the middle, he had warm brown eyes that twinkled as he laughed and the fullest pink lips you'd ever seen on a guy.

He was pretty.

"Y/N, meet your new roommate, Jung Wooyoung," his nurse said.

"A roommate?" You were a bit confused.

"We figured you could use one," Yunho said as he appeared leaning against the doorframe, "now you won't have to feel lonely."

.

.

"So what's up with you?" Wooyoung asked one morning. It was the end of April, a time you used to love, but now all you could do was lay in your bed and stare out of the window.

You moved your head to look at Wooyoung, who was on the right side of the room, checking the photo's he made today on his camera. He loved taking pictures of everyone, he even took a few of you. He even joked that you were his muse.

"What's up with me?" you asked, unsure if he meant your mood or your illness.

"Why are you in here? I've been here for three days and I hadn't asked yet," Wooyoung answered, placing his Nintendo on the foot of his bed, paying his attention to you.

"Breast cancer," you admitted, "I have had a few chemo's but they did zero so they're removing both tomorrow."

Wooyoung's expression saddened. "I'm sorry, you must feel horrible right now."

You nodded, saying nothing more. You'd fall apart if you talked more about yourself. It was already hard to share it with your therapist.

"Why are you here?" you finally asked.

"Bladder cancer, and it has probably spread by now," he said, quite bluntly. "Spread? Where to?" you asked curiously. "They're not sure, but they're gonna run tests and examine me to see where it is now. I was declared clean a few months back but... you know, suddenly it's back and it's growing everywhere."

The two of you were silent for a while. "I'm sorry, Wooyoung, I hope you can get better," you said, truly meaning it.

"I don't think I will... thanks, though," he smiled.

.

.

A roommate sounded fun and you appreciated the company. But you didn't know Wooyoung would be this extremely loud kid.

You started to care about him, really, he was endearing and you had fun together, running through the halls, playing pranks on nurses (mostly Yunho) and sharing lifestories.

Tonight was a rather hot night. While it was only May it felt like a hot August night, but you refused to wear anything other than the big old sweater that was actually your brothers'.

Wooyoung and you were sat on your bed, just finished playing the card game Wooyoung taught you. You won from him already four times and he was over it.

"Aren't you hot?" Wooyoung asked as he ran his hands through his hair. Not as hot as that was. This is the first time you noticed your libido rising again in months. You didn't want to admit it was because of Wooyoung though.

"Of course I am."

"Then why do you have that sweater on?"

You rolled your eyes. You figured it was obvious why. "Because I have no boobs, Wooyoung," you sighed.

Wooyoung said nothing for a little while, understanding your struggle now. "That wouldn't bother me though, I'm an ass man." You couldn't help but laugh at that. "Good to know."

"You have a pretty nice ass."

You gasped. "You've looked?" Wooyoung laughed loudly, getting a glare from the cleaner in the hall. "Of course I looked, I'm a man, I have needs. I nearly wanted to photograph it."

"You have needs?" you laughed. "Hey I have a penis, I jerk off, I've had sex!"

"What's that like?" you asked, wondering. "Sex? You haven't...?"

You shook your head. "No I haven't had sex yet. I haven't even had my first kiss yet. No one wants to kiss the freak with cancer you know."

"Tell me about it," he sighed, "I haven't gotten laid in two years. Look, I had sex three times but I'm not bad! It's not like I'll give you cancer if I fuck you, that's not how it works," Wooyoung complained.

You grabbed the playing cards and put them back in their case, throwing them on the table on the other side of the room.

"Nice shot."

"Thanks."

A few hours later the two of you laid in bed, both unable to sleep. You shifted in your bed, being uncomfortable in the way too hot green sweater. Finally you gave in and took it off, leaving you in the striped tanktop you wore under it.

"Y/N?" you heard Wooyoung's voice call out. You felt caught. "Yeah?"

"I can give you your first kiss if you want? It doesn't have to mean anything. But who's a better match for a cancer kid than another cancer kid?" Wooyoung grinned.

You thought for a moment. "It's not a bad idea," you decided. Wooyoung wanted to get up, but you saw him struggling. He must be in pain, you thought.

You quickly got up and sat on his bed. You swallowed thickly, feeling nervous and exposed. He smiled softly as he saw your sweater off. "You look just as beautiful as you did before," he admitted.

His fingers brushed against your cheek and the arm around his waist pulled you closer. Softly, he placed his lips on yours. You felt electricity in your entire body, butterflies mixing with anxiety.

Your shaky lips moved against Wooyoung's plumper, certain ones. He took the lead, holding you, calming you down.

You kissed until you practically couldn't anymore, falling asleep in his arms.

.

.

Almost every night, over the past weeks, Wooyoung and you hung out together in bed, becoming best friends. Who kiss, apparently.

But tonight you noticed Wooyoung felt different, but you thought it may just be because of his conversation with his doctor earlier today, as he found out his cancer definitely was spreading, mostly to his lymph nodes.

The two of you went to bed earlier, falling asleep soon enough. But in the middle of the night you were awakened by Wooyoung's cries and whines, and you shot up immediately.

You saw Wooyoung's screaming face, wet from his tears. Your eyes widened when you saw blood and something that definitely smelled like urine. The nurses and his father were trying to calm him down, but Wooyoung seemed to be losing it completely.

Before you could get out of bed, they took him away, to God knows where. You stared at the spots of blood and urine on the floor. He must've lost control of his bladder by now. A cleaner soon came to clean the room, and you pretended to be asleep, while you couldn't even close your eyes for a few seconds.

.

.

Wooyoung returned the next day, he had been in surgery because the doctors had found internal bleeding, and they had to bring in a catheter.

He wasn't much like the usual bright Wooyoung, he was brooding, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Woo," you said as you got up from your bed and sat on his, nearly sitting on the line of his catheter.

"Hi," he said, looking away, he could barely look at you.

"I know you feel embarrassed..., but it's okay, there's no need to."

"I peed myself because I couldn't hold it in and... well, I'm gonna die."

You caressed his hair. "Wooyoung..."

You wanted to console him and hold him and tell him it was nonsense. But it's not nonsense and you both knew it. His cancer spread easily, as the doctors said it and there wasn't much they could do.

"You can't," you said, tearing up, "there's so much we still need to do. I need more, I need you to teach me more... and then do it a lot of times."

"You might wanna search for another cancer kid to give you dick," he tried to joke, but he couldn't laugh.

You just laid in bed together, knowing you had fallen in love but it could never happen. He wasn't gonna make it. And you had no idea what was gonna happen to you.

"But I want you."

The two of you looked at each other with tears in your eyes, not even noticing how both your parents stood in the doorway, watching the two of you fall deeply in love with each other.

The next night your mother sat down next to your bed when Wooyoung was getting washed up. "Sweetheart, I know you and Wooyoung have feelings-"

"Mom, they're not just feelings, I'm so... in love with him, it's unfair ma!" you yelled.

You didn't mean to yell. But what could you do? She kindly stroked your hair, trying to calm you down. ''You know you'll get hurt in the end, dear.''

''I don't care if I'll get hurt, I'd rather spend all my days with him until he's gone instead of never seeing him again while I know he's still here.''

''Okay, dear, it's okay, I'm not forbidding you anything, just... try not to romanticize it, it's hard taking care of a sick perso-''

You stared at her. ''It's hard taking care of a sick person? Like me? You know what's hard? Being sick,'' you protested. ''I know, I know, honey, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.''

You nodded, but you couldn't let it go. You hated feeling like a burden, but that's what you are, right?

.

.

''Hey, Y/N, shall we go outside and take pictures together?'' Wooyoung asked, already having his camera in his hand. You weren't totally in the mood, but seeing him getting up from his bed and sitting in his wheelchair. It broke your heart that you couldn't see him running around anymore. His legs got too weak, his body too tired.

You spend the entire afternoon in the July sun, taking pictures together and Wooyoung taking solo pictures of you, once again using you as his 'beautiful muse'.

At the end of the afternoon he was spent, although he didn't wanna admit it. His warm toned skin looked pale when he was helped back into his bed. He barely reacted to you any more, only giving you a slight smile.

In the days after that, you saw Wooyoung getting sicker, and sicker, while you were getting better, allowed to go home. Still, you came to see him every single day, spending time with him for as long as you could.

Some nights you snuck in to kiss him, feel his tongue in your neck and his hands on your ass, but at the end of the week he was out of breath too much, which made you realize his illness must be affecting his lungs by now.

''I love you,'' he breathed out weakly, his eyes filled with tears. ''I love you, Wooyoung, I'll be back tomorrow.'' You kissed him one last time, before going home.

The next morning you sat on the couch drinking a cold glass of milk. You finished your glass and put it right next to the plate with some leftover pancakes that you couldn't finish.

The livingroom door opened, making you look up. It was mrs. Jung together with your own mother. By the look on her face you already knew.

''Dear,'' she started as she sat down, ''I'm so sorry to tell you...''

''Don't... Don't tell me... Don't say it...'' you whispered.

''Wooyoung passed away in his sleep last night... He's gone, my dear,'' she spoke, as a tear rolled down your cheek. But you? You couldn't cry, you only felt empty.

Your mother and mrs. Jung held you tight, trying to console you. You looked at the time, 10:49, at the calendar, July 20th, and at the sky, blue, but with the brightest sun lighting up the world. Wooyoung.

Mrs. Jung placed Wooyoung's camera on the table. ''It's filled with photos of you, thought you'd like to keep this,'' she whispered, ''He wrote a letter a few days ago.'' Mrs. Jung handed you a pink envelope.

Your name was written in a glittery pen on the front, which made your hands shake. You opened it, pulling the letter out.

Y/N, my muse,

You have given me what no one else could

I feel unconditional love when I see your face

I always will, even from the beyond

Your lips were my heaven on earth

But from now on I'll be in heaven, far from you

I'll still watch over you always

So don't be afraid to love someone else

Don't forget to never give up

And don't forget about me

Yours,

Wooyoung

This time tears fell from your eyes, and they didn't stop.

They never truly stopped. You didn't want to accept it. The lively boy you knew, the boy you loved, he couldn't possibly be gone.

It had all gone by in a flash

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

Unexpected Call

Rebecca Welton x Fem!Reader

I just want to say thank you for requesting!

—

Ted, Beard, Roy, Higgins, and y/n were having a little ‘meeting’ they were supposed to be talking about the foul stench coming from Tartt’s under-cubby in his locker. But instead, they dicussed their girl problems and experiences.

“Is Rebecca more of a big spoon? I’d imagine her to be. It’s hard to think she’d be a little spoon, unless she asked to be” Ted wondered a loud, y/n only laughed, “Rebecca? A little spoon? Puh-lease!” she reasoned, leaning agaisnt the closed door of their office. Higgins kept a laugh in while Ted was wheezing, Beard was only smiling. Roy kept his laugh in and only had his signature scowl. The door opened and in came the extrodinary woman they were just talking about, “I heard my name. Something you have to say?” She asked directly looking at Nate, she knew he would crack under pressure. “I- I- uh-…it was y/n!” He confessed, swallowing hard and hiding next to Roy. Y/n scoffed, “did not!” Rebecca raised an eyebrow at her, “mhm” she hummed, her upper lip folding upward slightly.

“I didn’t do anything!” Y/n shrugged, continuing to drink her pineapple juce, Rebecca narrowed her eyes and straightened her lips. Ted, Beard, Roy looked at her and quivered a bit. Though, Roy would never admit that he could be afraid of her when she was angry.

“It was her.”

“Sorry little lady”

“Nope.”

“Apologies”

Y/n was left standing on her own, “Uh! Y’know that’s soo nice!” Y/n sarcastically bopped her head to the side. Rebecca raised her eyebrow, “okay! Okay! It was me!” Rebecca’s lips formed a line, staring y/n down until she was practically sweating.

To y/n’s surprise her phone began to ring, she used it as her advantage to escape, “Oh, sorry, y’know! Duty calls!” She said in a sing-song voice, Rebecca looked at the others and left with a smirk. She had authority around the club and she knew it.

y/n went outside to take the call, it was her mother, “Hey, mom! How’s it going?” She asked, all excited, she hadn’t seen or talked to her mom in quite a while. It was nice to here her voice again. “Hello honey, it’s about…Riley.” She sounded upset, y/n knew what she was talking about but she didn’t accept. It couldn’t happen not now, not when things just started getting better. When she was starting to finally be happy again.

“Oh, what? Did she do good on her chemo? I told you that she’d make a recovery!” Y/n exclaimed, resisting the urge to cry, “she’s gone, honey. Riley’s gone. I don’t have much time but, I’ll call you later, her funeral is next week. You’re flying out right?” Y/n stayed silent, her mouth hanging open. She knew it was gonna happen, yet, it still hit her like a train.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll be there. I’ll hear ya soon” y/n mumbled, hanging up the call, she ran up to Rebecca’s office passing, Roy, Higgins, and Keeley, she completely ignored them and their concerned remarks.

As much as she loved them to, she needed Rebecca right now. Nothing could ever make her feel better than a big warm hug from Rebecca. Y/n burst into her office in tears, Rebecca, who was just finishing up her work looked up to see her distraught girlfriend in tears and sobbing her heart out.

“Oh, darling. What ever is the matter? I know that earlier about you talking about me was a joke so I’m not upset about that if this is what it’s about?” She wrapped her strong arms around y/n and guided her to the couch where y/n cuddled into her chest, sobbing into it she mumbled. “It’s not about that, it’s…” she choked on her sobs, gently, Rebecca wiped her tears away and cooed, “take your time darling, I have all day to listen” y/n looked at her and sniffled, “remember what I told you about Riley?” Y/n went on, Rebecca’s face dropped, “wait, she didn’t…” Rebecca’s words faded away as y/n’s tears came back. “She did..”

————

A week later the team accompanied y/n and Rebecca to Riley’s funeral. Rebecca never left y/n’s side, knowing her girlfriend was fragile at the moment, she didn’t allow her to be alone.

Rebecca finally met y/n’s parents but they had wished it was under better circumstances, they loved Rebecca and the way she treated y/n so it was one heavy worry taken away from y/n.

As the funeral went on, it was time for y/n’s eulogy. She had rehearsed this moment so many times it felt like a memory, now knowing how much time didn’t wait for anyone, she blamed herself for not being there for her best-friend.

stepping up onto the stage she holds back tears, “Riley, she was a- she was a very kind soul. Never once did she leave someone on the streets hungry or not donate to a organization that helped people. She loved- she-“ y/n stopped for a moment, her breathing was unsteady and her body shook, Rebecca left her seat and hugged her tightly, “you’re okay, my love. I’m here, sweetheart. Take your time, Riley would be so proud of you, darling” Rebecca hugged her tightly and let go to let her deliver her speech.

Through the whole thing she held on to her hand, proudly stroking her back as she delivered the eulogy with a heavy heart.

[cas-kingdom]

Instinct

A/N: My exams finished and what did I do first as a free woman? Write.

My first 9-1-1: Lonestar fic, a small one (with questionable quality), but a subject that hits pretty deep right now. It’s for that reason that this fic isn’t reader-centric. Hopefully “ya’ll” love Connie Strand anyway. Enjoy, and bear with me as I return to writing now that summer’s here!

(Connie’s about 19).

Title: Instinct

Summary: Owen and his daughter discuss the possible return of his cancer.

Words: 2108

The nerves came when the coughing did.

It was instinct at this point. The moment the familiar, guttural sounds reached her, they immediately broke down doors in her mind and wrenched free the memories she’d locked away.

It was instinct also that had her putting her laptop to the side and staring at her bedroom wall for a moment. Heart revving into that familiar gear, hands growing familiarly clammy, breath stopping in that familiar place just at the top of her throat. A sick sort of feeling climbed from her stomach and crawled its way up to her chest, settling there when the coughing stopped and broke down into small croaky things. Barely-audible things. Nothing-to-worry-about things.

She stepped out of bed and hugged her arms to her chest, walking quietly on bare feet towards the halfway-open door. Her room was closest to the kitchen, so she saw him when she stepped out, hunched over the island, head bowed, hands in fists on the marble. For a scene that had moments ago been overwhelmed by a coughing fit, it was scarily silent now.

A time when something like this would not dare cross her mind had passed the window of impossible with her father’s initial cancer diagnosis. Almost a year ago now, he’d been in remission for most of that year, but every cough, every hoarse throat…hell, every stubbed toe had Connie Strand’s nerves skyrocketing. That was normal, she’d been told. That was instinct.

Instinct was a bitch.

Owen saw Connie before he could automatically situate himself into a position that looked the picture of health. Still, he tried, straightening the moment his eyes caught sight of her padding down the hallway. He cleared his throat and picked up a knife, pointing it at the half-cut banana in front of him.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he said, throwing a smile in her direction for good measure. His voice was crackly. “I’m making a protein smoothie. Want some?”

It was in the fire captain’s nature to act oblivious, but Connie didn’t think there was much point in it now. He’d had cancer, he’d had chemo, he’d beaten cancer, he’d beaten chemo. He hadn’t told his kids, then he’d told his kids. It wasn’t as though Connie could no longer tell when he was feeling off. She’d known the difference before the tumours, and she would continue to know it long after. T.K. called that a superpower. Owen called it a pain in his ass.

“I’m allergic to protein powder.” Her answer every time, it was the second reason she wished T.K. still lived with them. When he did, the two were able to sneak a packet of potato chips in through the front door, or even a chocolate bar if they were lucky. But Owen controlled the grocery shopping now, and when Owen controlled the grocery shopping, not a morsel of candy made it in the cart. The first reason lay in the possibility of these exact moments. When she needed her big brother, it wasn’t often he was around.

Still. Connie was and always had been more like her father than her mother, and smoothies, minus the protein, were still a favourite. Owen was extremely proud of that small achievement.

“In that case, My Sunshine Lady Princess—” He turned to grab another glass as she sat in a swivel chair— “One protein smoothie, minus the protein, coming up.” Connie breathed a laugh and he sighed exaggeratedly. “Let me believe it, Con, please.”

He returned to chopping the banana, but Connie could see his face fall. He wasn’t stupid, and neither was she. He knew she hadn’t come into the kitchen at seven am to escape her homework or procure one of his morning smoothies.

“Dad?” She glanced down at the table, following the lines of marble with her finger.

Owen stuck a handful of bananas in the blender and reached for an apple. “Yep.”

“You’re alright, right?”

There weren’t many people who could answer that question truthfully, and once upon a time, Owen Strand would have been at the top of that list. Recently, though, he’d learnt to be a bit more open. He’d had to be. After T.K. had figured out what he’d been keeping from his kids, scepticism followed them both around like the plague.

So, it was with this that the fire captain put down his knife and placed the palms of his hands on the counter, bracing himself against it. He looked up at Connie, her upper lip unknowingly caught between her teeth. He sucked in a breath and cleared his throat. “Banana went down the wrong tube,” he tried.

Connie dropped her head and rose her brows in a very Owen Strand way that had her dad cringing and pulling back.

“Okay, okay. I might have a little tickle in the back of my throat that’s been there a few weeks. And that’s a might, so you take a chill pill right now, Miss, ‘cause I won’t have you worrying about nothing ‘til it’s something.” He had one hand aimed at her, a finger pointing forwards. The Owen Strand look settled quickly on his own face and Connie had a difficult time keeping the smile from her lips. Her dad was her dad, after all. Her hero and entertainer.

At her smile, Owen let one of his own slip onto his face, knowing he’d got her. Just to make sure, he lifted his eyebrows higher and sent a teasing: “You hear me?” to which she just about refrained from rolling her eyes at. Swivelling in her chair, she mumbled an answer, averting her gaze.

“Hey, don’t make me come over there and fix up a smile.” Owen had a habit of turning negative situations on their heads when it concerned Connie and T.K.. Even before the cancer, they hadn’t had the most perfect of lives, switching between mom and dad’s house and suffering the odd babysitter when representing clients and fighting fires overlapped a bit too much. He guessed T.K. had had it worse—he was older and remembered the choppy months after the divorce. Connie had been born in choppy month eight, the most surprising of surprises, but their new way of living had always been her norm. Still, life had had its downs, and a Connie frown broke his damn heart every time.

“Alright—” He dusted his hands together and threw his arms up, resigned— “I’m coming.”

Connie jumped to attention immediately, not quite having expected the change in mood. Though it was certainly like him. “I didn’t say anything!”

Owen clicked his fingers as he made his way intently around the counter. “That’s exactly why I’m coming.”

He wasn’t even hiding the mischievous intonation of his voice. That teasing lilt made its familiar way in, dutifully pushing all negative thoughts from Connie’s mind as she spun in her chair and stretched her arms out. “Hey, hey, okay!” Owen stopped a foot from her chair, eyes narrowed, hands poised suspiciously like they were seconds from launching a tickle attack Connie had told her dad a hundred times she was way too old for. He’d never taken that to heart, nor had T.K., and somewhere deep, deep down she appreciated that. Still, she could pretend not to enjoy it, and probably would until the day Owen himself deemed her too old, if that day ever came.

“Okay,” she said, “not worried. I’m not worried! See?” She pointed at her face, forcing the widest of toothy grins possible. “Look at my smile.”

Owen couldn’t help but snort, amusement at the situation overriding his brief venture to remain serious. “I see it,” he said, letting his arms hang limp by his sides and walking towards her. Connie spun around again to face the counter and he stopped behind her, lifting his arms to drape over her shoulders. Quiet, Connie let her dad pull her back against his chest, feeling his chin come to rest on her shoulder. The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound for a moment, father and daughter acting completely on instinct in their need to hold each other for a moment. Worrying about nothing ‘til it was something was Connie’s forte, after all.

“It was just a cough, Sunshine,” Owen reassured her.

“And a tickle in your throat.”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure that was the banana.” Connie smiled and he hailed that a silent victory with a kiss to her cheek, hugging her closer. “My next check-up’s not for another month but I’ll book in with the doc tomorrow. Just to be sure.”

Connie nodded and placed her hand over his. “Just to be sure.”

She could hear him hesitate beside him. “Con, kiddo…I know you’ve got reason enough to be worried, and I’m not gonna take that right away from you. It’s okay to be worried, reminds us all we’re human. But…”

“I worry too much?”

He hummed. “Not that. Sometimes—you just don’t need to worry. And I know you can’t help it, neither can I, I guess we just gotta batten down the hatches a bit, huh? If we worry about anything and everything that could be tumour-related, there’ll never be a time we’re not shaking in our boots.”

He was right, of course, always was, but Connie didn’t know how to answer him. The mood might have continued to plummet, probably would have continued to plummet, if her phone hadn’t pinged at that moment. Connie couldn’t have reached for it quicker, feeling her dad press another kiss to her head before moving back to his side of the island. In the blink of an eye, the dismal air of the kitchen seemed to shatter as Owen opened the blinds and called for Alexa to quietly play his breakfast playlist. They’d talked about what they’d needed to talk about, defeated the elephant in the room. The C word was buried for now.

“T.K. wants to meet for breakfast,” Connie said, her brother’s u me & pancakes b4 shift? shining at her from her bright screen and waking up any residual exhaustion her eyes had been harbouring.

Owen sighed dramatically and visibly deflated. “After I slaved away at the counter cutting fruit for your smoothie?” Connie smiled as she typed a response. “Does he want me to drop you off?”

“He’ll pick me up. You wanna come?”

Another dramatic sigh and the knife clattered to the marble top. Connie rose an eyebrow at his spectacle, knowing deep down he was attempting to shake off any gloominess floating around the kitchen but letting herself enjoy his puckishness all the same. When a theatrical: “After I slaved away at the counter cutting fruit for my smoothie?” came from him, she finally laughed and shook her head.

“Come on, Dad. Pancakes over smoothies every time.”

Hand on his heart, Owen frowned. “Don’t, Connie. Just don’t.” And with that, the Captain of Firehouse 126 promptly turned on the blender. When Connie made half-hearted attempts to shout something over the noise, he put a hand to his ear and leant forward, yelling back: “What’s that? I can’t hear you over this blender! Can you say that again?” Perfectly dad like, perfectly Owen, perfectly instinctual. Still, Connie rolled her eyes and jumped from her chair, marching around to his side and holding up her phone as proof she was ringing T.K. and needed him to turn it off.

Owen peered at the screen but shook his head. “I’m making a smoothie!”

Connie put her phone to her ear and blocked her other ear with a finger. “T.K.? Huh?” Barely audible over the sound of the screaming blender, it apparently did not occur to Connie that she could leave the room. “T.K.!” A chuckling Owen heard her all but yell down the line. “Dad’s not coming! He’s gonna stay at home and sulk over a glass of protein smoothie!”

Owen stopped the blender and made a grab at Connie’s phone. “Uh, that is so not what I said!”

“It so is—” Connie just about leapt away from him— “Yeah, he’s not feeling so hot. Says he has a tickle in his throat.”

Not many could best Owen in a battle of wits, but he was damn glad that the one who could was his kid.

With a deep, insanely proud chuckle, he clapped his hands together before wiggling his fingers towards her. “I’ll show you a tickle in the throat.”

Instinct. Total instinct.

And, even as her shrieking resounded throughout the kitchen that Sunday morning before the clock had even struck seven am, Connie Strand loved every bit of it.

Lone Star Masterpost

[ingek73]

Dealing with disquiet over Kate’s cancer video

Readers comment on an article taking a different view of life after treatment from that presented by the Princess of Wales

Sun 15 Sep 2024 17.56 BST

I’m grateful to Hilary Osborne for helping me understand why the Princess of Wales’s video left me so disquieted (Kate’s recovery is great news – but be wary of a soft-focus view of life after chemo, 11 September). I had stage 2, grade 2 invasive breast cancer last Christmas, with talk of chemotherapy after the tumour biopsy – until genomic testing gave me a reprieve. So I “got off lightly”, and need to “look on the bright side”, as some friends unhelpfully remind me.

There are some silver linings, but all cancer is crap. And even without chemotherapy, I still feel greyed-out. My heart aches for Kate, and broadly speaking I’m a royalist. But did her PR team really have to add so much saccharine? And now I feel just a bit more rubbish about myself and my failure to fully thrive after my own tough, but less tough, year.

Ali Hutchison

Dorchester, Dorset

I completely agree with Hilary Osborne’s article and also felt that while being pleased that Kate has completed her treatment, the jarring and somewhat smug video was inappropriate, and perhaps even a little insulting to those who have experienced this journey in the real world.

My memories of this journey are of fear and terror of how the mortgage and bills were to be paid, how my deeply distressed daughters would cope if I died, and how on earth I would pick up the pieces of my life if I were fortunate enough to complete this gruelling treatment.

The privilege that oozes from this video made it unrelatable for those ordinary mortals like myself who had to navigate the same (but very different in so many ways) path. I am certainly no royalist, but I also felt that if such a soft-focus cinematic video had been released by Harry and Meghan, the media reaction would have been very different indeed.

Jane Dove

Isleworth, London

“There is … a childish outspokenness in illness,” wrote Virginia Woolf in her essay On Being Ill. Things are said, truths blurted out, which the cautious respectability of health conceals. Was the short video in which the Princess of Wales wanted to share her illness no more than someone diagnosed with cancer who wanted to tell a wider circle than her family and her close friends? Perhaps she felt a need to share her feelings with the rest of the world.

Many of us have been in similar situations, although without the restraints of royal life. We want to share with others who are happy to listen about the burden of illness. Perhaps later, Kate, as many others, will look back on this video as a mistake. Many of us have been there and spoken more than we normally would. Let us hope that she will one day look back on this video and ask herself why she felt the need to make it.

Juliet Clibborn

London

Hilary Osborne’s article resonated with me. The year after finishing chemotherapy and radiation was not a good one, despite the knowledge that I was cancer-free. Also, being more or less hair-free for several months while it started growing again was difficult. There was that greyness that Hilary mentions, and there was feeling angry, and invisible, and there were despairing tears at work.

Afterwards, it took nearly a year for me to feel (which means “look”) normal again. Good for Kate that she’s better. She’s lucky that the treatment she had didn’t make her lose her hair. But she must know that many others undergoing chemotherapy aren’t so lucky. Since she’s chosen not to share the details of the type of cancer she had, or the type of drugs she was given to treat it (which spared her hair), in my opinion she probably shouldn’t share the artificial, golden-filtered view of life post-cancer in her video either.

Nadia Lawrence

Munich, Germany

[houseofbrat]

I’m getting confused.

So, do you think that W&K knew about the possibility of detecting cancer prior surgery? And that maybe the surgery was to take out the tumor or organ as the first part of the treatment and then that’s why she is doing ‘preventative chemo’?

Because I keep reading people saying that some people have had surgery without expecting to have cancer and then after sending it to pathology, they discovered the tissue with cancer cells. Many are saying that it’s ‘common’ or it’s how some were diagnosed. Many are fortunate to find it in early stages, other ñd not so much.

Or what are you implying? Are they lying in some part of the story? Or how do you think all this happened?

I just hope that whatever she had/had, it had been detected on time and isn’t in an advanced stage tho.

I would recommend my answer to your previous ask here.

I think Kate's surgery was for a bowel obstruction, bowel fistula, or severe diverticulitis. There's no way to no for sure since they're never going to tell us. (It's too embarrassing! Gasp!) They always do imaging prior to surgery, so if the radiologists did not see any noticeable lesions on her imaging, then she likely was diagnosed as Stage 0/in situ based on the pathology report. Or whatever they call it in the UK.

I think Kate's "preventative chemotherapy" is very unnecessary. It makes the doctors and medical staff feel good because they like to do medical interventions. That's what their entire careers are based on. However, that doesn't mean she needs it to be healthy. In all likelihood, she would be just fine without it. She should have waited another six months to do it if she wanted to do it. Should have waited until her body and mind finished healing and her husband stopped chain smoking in the backyard to soothe his nerves.

Kate's got rich people problems. She can get any treatment she wants, even if her life would be better off without it.

[felicitysmoaksx]

Hi everyone! This is by no means my favorite chapter, but it has some of my favorite moments in the story and I'm curious to see which ones yours are and the ones you think mine are. But this chapter is very grief heavy so take care of yourselves and I hope you enjoy it. Also fun fact: we start this chapter where I initially started the story but then changed it. Song recs for this chapter: See You Again (Acoustic) by Tyler Ward, Hold On by Chord Overstreet, Forever Winter by Taylor Swift, and The Good Ones by Gabby Barrett

Rating: Mature

Summary: Her eyes squeezed shut before she dropped her head. Borrowed time. It was meant to be her…It was meant to be-

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: implied/references a canonical character death and in depth survivors’ guilt  

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Fic Playlist but Less Shippy  | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |  Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

The creamy beige walls with green accents, with picture frames lining those walls and warm wooden floors, were not what Connor was expecting when he stepped foot in Hank Voight’s two-story townhouse, after the funeral. Truthfully he didn’t know what he was expecting but the cozy-looking house, wasn’t it.

They were the first ones there after the service and Sarah had used her key to let them in.

“Camille, Hank’s wife, decorated the house, and he didn’t have the heart to change it after she lost her battle with cancer,” Sarah informed him when she caught him looking around. Like it had been since she was discharged from the hospital and in the days leading up to Justin Voight’s funeral. Sarah’s voice was quiet and tinged with sadness.  

Connor let his eyes wander around the room once more and now his lover had said something, he could the feminine touches around the parts of the house that he could see from the entryway.

“It’s nice,” he said quietly, keeping his voice just as quiet as hers, as his hand, that wasn’t already holding hers, picked up a picture frame. A much younger version of the brunette beside him stared back up at him. Sarah couldn’t have been more than sixteen in the picture. She stood smiling, along with Hank, Justin Voight, Erin Lindsay, and a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes, he didn’t recognize stared back at him. Their smiles were bright.

“Camille?” He asked, nodding a little at the picture though he was fairly certain. Sarah nodded, nuzzling his shoulder a little as she leaned against it. She probably didn’t realize what she was doing, but Connor wrapped an arm around her waist. It wasn’t often that Sarah clung to him, but she was right now and Connor was willing to give his affection to her in spades.

“That was taken the day of mine and Justin’s high school graduation. Camille’s chemo had started to affect her with nausea and hair loss about a month before. She had even started to lose weight, but you wouldn’t have known it with the way she acted. It was like she was superwoman.” She explained and it was clear from her tone of voice, she held a fondness for the woman. 

“You miss her.” It wasn’t a question. But his lover still nodded as she explained, “I owe a lot to her and Hank. But I think the most I owe to Camille is making sure I at least finished high school. She’s probably the reason I’m standing here next to you right now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Camille taught middle school. So education was pretty important to her and to put it lightly my grades were less than stellar. But it wasn’t because I didn’t get it. I just didn’t care.” It was hard to imagine the brunette beside him as a delinquent as she was alluding to. He always thought of Sarah as a brainiac and a perfectionist.

She huffed a ghost of a laugh, “I still remember the speech she gave me. 'I know the system and the world have failed you. You got into a situation that you didn’t put yourself in and you’re angry. And I’m not denying that you have a right to be angry. But Sarah, you’re smart. So smart. Don’t think I don’t see you helping Justin with his homework sometimes. So I don’t understand why a girl who is as smart as you, thinks it’s okay to fail yourself by not even trying to finish high school.'”

“Did it work?” 

“To an extent. At least in middle school. I put in just enough effort to pass. It wasn’t till I entered high school that my teachers noticed I wasn’t trying because I was bored. I wasn’t being challenged enough, so a month into the school year I took a lot of tests. Turns out I was testing out of subjects to see where I could be placed at.” 

Another barely there chuckle, “I tested out of the ninth and tenth grade. I was fourteen and a junior in high school.”

Connor couldn’t hide his wince. He remembered being fourteen and really couldn’t imagine being in junior year at that age. Fourteen and freshman year was bad enough. A watery chuckle fell from her lips, “Yeah, I had it easier than most though. Hank and Camille pulled me out of the private school they had Erin and me in when we came to live with them and put me in the public high school Justin was at. He and Tucker looked out for me. I had one of them most of the time. And if I didn’t have them, there was usually a guy Justin was friendly with.”

Silence fell as he placed the picture back on the table. Then Sarah spoke quietly, “She wasn’t my mother and I know that. But when I picture my mother, she’s who comes to mind. With my father, it’s different. Hank has been my dad for sixteen years now. But I still remember how my father looked. How he smelled and what he sounded like. At least a little. But my mom, my actual mother, I only have a blurry outline of her. I can’t even remember her face. Let alone what she smelled like or sounded like and Bunny, well was Bunny. We’ll just leave it at that. But Camille always smelled like flowers and lemon pledge because of her dust allergy. And in the mornings, when getting three kids up and moving for school, she sounded like a drill sergeant. But when you were sad or upset, she was the most soothing voice. The hypnotic kind you could fall asleep to.”

The brunette shook her head, “That must sound so weird.”

A wistful vulnerability had entered her voice now. So Connor pressed his lips to her forehead gently as he played with a loose curl to get her attention. Brown eyes peered back up at him from where her head rested against his shoulder. 

“It doesn’t sound weird, baby. Hank and Camille raised you. Helped make you the person you are today. It makes sense that they’re who you picture as your parents.”

“Thank you,” he felt Sarah sag just a little into him and Connor took her weight easily, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “And thank you for being here today too. It means a lot to me.”

“You don’t need to thank me. You know I’m here for you.” He told her softly. Then it was over as his lover pulled away from him, rubbing tears away from her face while she made her way to the kitchen. Connor bit back a sigh. He wanted her to lean on him. He wanted to be there for her, but for all his wanting, when she did lean on him; Sarah pulled away just as quick.

Like the brunette was afraid of something. But Connor couldn’t figure out what that was yet. Though he had a nagging feeling that it had something to do with her comment about being an “extended booty call.”

The conversation about their relationship hadn’t happened yet. Though he promised his sister, he couldn’t talk to Sarah about their relationship right now. It wasn’t the right time. There was just too much going on right now and she was too vulnerable. But it was just a formality to Connor anyway. It could wait; it had for six months. Conversation or not, he was hers. Now he was just trying to ease her into it.

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A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and Sarah came out of the kitchen, raising her eyebrows back at Connor who looked confused as well. It was too early for anyone from the service to show up yet. According to Erin’s text, there was a bad wreck on Roosevelt holding everyone up. (Sarah and Connor had come the back way to the house so they had missed it.)

“Do you want me to get it?” Connor offered and the brunette shook her head. He had been great before the service, talking with everyone when she didn’t have the energy to socialize. And her lover had even let her hide in his embrace when the service was too much for her. But she couldn’t keep using him as a crutch. She knew she couldn’t; it wasn’t right. She made her way to the door.

“Maggie,” Sarah said slowly before her eyes widened as she took in everyone else who stood behind the charge nurse. Will, Natalie, April, Ethan, Ava, and Monique stood there. 

“Are we late? Sorry, Reese, we wanted to come to the service too but we couldn’t find enough people to cover a whole shift.” Maggie explained, wrapping her in a one-armed hug. In her other hand were two casserole dishes. One was regular-sized, made for serving people and the other was smaller. Made to serve one or two people. Sarah returned it, feeling a little stunned at the sight of everyone there, looking at her with varying degrees of sympathetic smiles. Ms. Goodwin and Dr. Charles and his ex-wife had showed up to the service, but Sarah figured it was a respect thing more than anything. She wasn’t expecting anyone else from the hospital with the exception of Connor to show up. (Despite her many claims that he didn’t have to come with her.)

“And the service felt more like a family thing and we didn’t want to intrude.” Natalie chimed in, taking Maggie’s place when the charge nurse released her. “How’re you holding up Sarah?” 

“Plus we got lost. Whenever Jay talked, he made it sound like Voight lived in Pilsen. Not North Lawndale.” Will was next to hug her, squeezing her in a big bear hug.

“The GPS always gets it wrong anyway,” Sarah answered feeling a little like she was in a daze at the sight of her coworkers and friends. Choi wrapped his arms around her next and Sarah hugged him a little tighter than the others simply because he and Justin used the same cologne. The clean spearmint smell brought tears to her eyes and she had to blink back.  

She couldn’t cry. Not here. Not with everyone staring at her with everyone looking at her with varying degrees of pity. 

“But Sarah, something awful happened to you. It’s okay to cry.” Justin’s ghost told her sadly. Her tears pricked her eyes and threatened to fall again. She jerked herself out of Ethan’s arms as if she was burned. Thankfully no one noticed or they were too nice to mention it. April came next, whispering how she was sorry. Then Monique, who didn’t have anything to say, but squeezed her extra tight. Borrowed time. It was always meant to be her-

“If you want we can check the bandage? See how it’s healing?” Ava asked, when Sarah pulled away from her. She had been the last to hug her. Thankful for the interruption to her guilt-consuming thoughts, the brunette shrugged and grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen before she led her to the upstairs bathroom in case someone else showed up. 

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“We expected Sarah to not be herself but I didn’t think we expected her to be so…” Natalie trailed off sadly, looking around at their friends for help. 

“Lifeless?” Choi inputted softly and she nodded. Feeling a wave of protectiveness hit him, Connor opened his mouth to remind them that of course, Sarah was

going to be in a daze. Her brother had died. But Maggie and Will beat him to it. 

“Nat, you were more or less the same way after Jeff died.” The charge nurse reminded Natalie, coming back from the kitchen. Maggie hadn’t said this in an unkind tone.  Merely a gentle reminder, but the other brunette woman blushed and looked at her hands. 

Their red-headed friend nodded in agreement as he told them, “And to be honest, it makes sense for her to be like this. There are entire weeks that I don’t remember when my mom and dad both passed. Let alone their actual services. Sarah will probably be on autopilot for a while. The best thing we can probably do for her is to be there and not treat her differently.”

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“It looks okay. Rhodes is doing a good job.” Ava said, inspecting the bullet wound. Then meeting Sarah’s eye she smirked weakly. “You have no idea how much I hate admitting that.” 

For her efforts at normalcy, the curly-haired brunette gave her friend a weak smile. Ava placed a piece of gauze on the hole and secured it with some surgical tape as she spoke in a quiet voice, “Though I wish you stayed in the hospital a little bit longer.”

A tear rolled down Sarah’s cheek. Her voice was broken and her face screwed up with a sob. “And I told you that wasn’t an option.”

“I know. And even though I  don’t like it. I can understand why that wasn’t an option. I can’t imagine how hard today is for you.”

There were those tears again that threatened to fall. She tried to push them back but once the traderious tears fell. They didn’t stop and Sarah sobbed, “It feels like I’m in a daze. Like everything is just a bad dream but I can’t seem to wake up. No matter how hard I try to pinch myself.”  

She showed her friend the welt that was starting to form on her wrist from where she had been pinching all day.

“Oh Reese,” Ava sank to her knees in front of her brunette friend as the other woman crumbled. Sarah buried her face into her hands. “And when I can’t wake up, I just start crying…”

Another broken sob as Sarah felt her body start to shake. “I.  Hate. crying, Ava. It feels like the last few days, all I’ve done is cry. I should be all dried up by now. I shouldn’t have any tears left.”

“You faced something terrible. Something no one should have to go through and you lost someone important to you.” The blonde told her with a slight frown, bringing her into a tight hug. “You are allowed to cry, to grieve. To be hurt and angry that this happened. Don’t deny yourself that.”

Was it ironic that Justin’s ghost who seemed to follow her had said the same thing to her earlier? 

Sarah felt herself start to crumble in Ava’s arms. Sobs wracked her body and that familiar stiff ache of a migraine emerging. With a sigh, she pulled away and scrubbed roughly at her face. 

“Sarah,” the blonde said, but Sarah was already shaking her head as she pushed herself to her feet. “Other people are going to be here soon. I can’t-”

She couldn’t cry in front of them. She didn’t feel like she could because who was she? What right did she have to cry when in reality, as much as they acted like it, she wasn’t Justin’s sister. She wasn’t Hank’s daughter. She was the girl no one wanted. Her own parents had left her. Had left her with Bunny, who had no problem telling her she was just another mouth to feed. Another burden that no one wanted. (“But you are my sister, Sarah. Just like you’re Dad’s kid too. Just like Erin and Teddy.” The ghost seemed to whisper.)

“Sarah,” Ava said again, but Sarah shook her head again, already headed for the door. It was meant to be her. Not Justin.

“Thank you. For changing my bandage.” The curly-haired brunette said before she walked out of the door without another word.

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“I appreciate you all coming but you really didn’t have to.” Sarah said, making her way back down the steps. By the way, everyone seemed to stop talking, she knew they had been talking about her.

“You didn’t have to come to my Dad’s memorial but you did. And you stopped Jay from kicking Timmy Oaks ass.” Will said as he grinned at her, nudging her with his shoulder. 

“That’s because Erin was sick and at the rate Jay was going, she was worried he was going to kick someone's ass.” 

“And you didn’t have to help me put together furniture pieces for my apartment but you did,” Ava said, making her way down the steps. She stopped behind her and Sarah turned.

“I bribed Jay, Adam, and Kevin with pizza and beer to put together your furniture. Then I helped you read the directions.”

“And you didn’t have to take me to the 21st and wait with me when my place was broken into a few months ago. But you did.” Monique added. 

“I knew they would send you to the 13th. And I also knew Alder who runs the B&E unit. He graduated with Erin’s class at the academy. He’s misogynistic and thinks the only thing a female cop is good for is being a figurehead. He wouldn’t have taken you seriously. At least with Ruz and Kev, I knew you’d be in good hands.”

“And you didn’t have to come to my Uncle Paul’s funeral and listen to my Grandma’s ramble on about knitting. But you did. She also made a casserole by the way. She also made a smaller vegetarian one for you. I put them on the counter.” Maggie told her. 

“She didn’t have to do that.” This time Sarah didn’t have a way to contradict the charge nurse. So she just shook her head. Because everything everyone had just said, although true, was different. That was them. Not her.

"She wanted to Reese," Maggie told her.

“You’re just as important to us as we are to you, Sarah,” Choi told her. His usual intense demeanor seemed to be toned down a few notches. April nodded. 

“Friends show up for each other and you’ve shown up for us when we've needed it. Now let us do the same.”

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Thirty minutes to an hour later, more people started to show up and the brunette learned just how small the world actually was when Autumn looked at Natalie from where she was pressing herself into Sarah’s leg with a large grin and said, “Hi Owen’s mom!”

 Autumn and Owen had gone to the same daycare while the hospital’s in-house one was being renovated. Natalie told her, waving to the little girl. 

“And,” Natalie added, “I had been room mom a few times. Is Autumn yours? I’ve only seen Tucker pick her up. But wait, she would’ve had to be born around the time Owen was because they’re about the same age…”

Sarah shook her head as the little girl left her side to chase after Travis, who was trying to convince Annie to let him have another soda. “No, Tucker and I go way back, and don’t get me wrong he’s great. But we don’t go back like that.  He was Justin’s best friend and we went to school together. After his wife, Leah passed because of complications with the birth, everyone around Tucker stepped up to help out with Autumn.”

“I only asked because she seems pretty attached to you in particular,” Nat remarked gently. It was true. Since arriving with her father, and despite Sarah’s place by Connor’s, the small girl had attached herself to Sarah’s side (like she usually did) until a few minutes ago. 

“Well,” the curly-haired brunette shrugged at the other woman, “It takes a village right?” 

“It does,” Natalie agreed, and though she could tell there was more to the story, she let Sarah go back to her place by Connor’s side on the couch.

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“You’re not the guy I pictured for my little sister.” Erin took Sarah’s spot beside him on the couch, after Hank had pulled his lover into the kitchen to eat a plate of food he made for her. Connor took a swig of his beer, an eyebrow raised at the police detective. 

“I’m hoping there’s a ‘but’ coming here?”  

“I thought you were too overconfident. A little too full of himself because he was good at what he did and he knew it. It makes for a big ego in people and I thought you were too full of yourself to be what my sister needed in a partner.” She continued and when his frown deepened, Erin smiled softly in return, “But then I watched you look at my sister like she was the moon and the stars in your universe. I watched you sit by her side for hours upon hours while she was sedated. And when she was discharged and we were fighting about her staying by herself, you stepped in and offered up yourself and your apartment to try and make everyone happy. And you came with her today, to a funeral service of a person you didn't. Not many people would do that.”

Connor shrugged, looking away when Erin’s eyes bore into his. It was only then that the woman said, “A lot of guys would’ve cut and run by now.”

“It’s not in my nature.” It wasn’t. Maybe it was the trauma of losing his mom like he had. A subconscious pull that he wasn’t always aware of. If his father had reached his hand out to his mother more, and helped her deal with her bad days and her mental illnesses in general, she might still be here. Maybe that’s why Connor didn't, as Erin put it, ‘cut and run.’ Instead, he found himself doubling down when things got hard. “I don’t scare easily.”

He returned Erin’s look finally and she gave him another smile. “Clearly, you don’t and to be clear, this isn’t me saying I like or approve of you yet…”

“But?”

“But you love my sister. There is no denying that. Anyone who’s paying attention can see that and that is a good first step.” Connor shifted in his seat. He wasn’t denying her statement and you could definitely call him old fashioned in this regard but he hadn’t even uttered those words to Sarah yet. If he was going to tell anyone he loved the brunette beauty, it was going to be him telling her first.

So instead he said, “She’s not ready to hear that yet.” 

“She will be though.” Erin told him with a sad smile, “We’re all just a little fragile right now.”

[madsworld15]

I Am Still Right Here Chapter 2 Part 4 (Brian x Justin, QAF, Support Group AU)

I have uploaded all of Chapter 1 on AO3.

You can find Part 1 of Chapter 2 here and Part 2 here and Part 3 here.

This is the final part of Chapter 2 I will be posting it in its entirety on AO3 later on today.

As always, I wouldn't be here today writing for the QAF fandom if it weren't for the support of @winderlylandchime @maryp50 and @lostcol

Enjoy the end of this story!

One Month Later

Brian felt like shit. Not the “oh my stomach kinda hurts” kind of shit, but the “death would be better than this” kind. Ever since his scan had come back showing that the cancer had spread, Brian’s doctor had been much more aggressive with treatments. He was now lucky if he managed to make it into the office 2 days out of 5. If he thought radiation treatment was bad, it had nothing on the hell chemo put his body through.

He’d finished his chemo treatment for the day and had every intention of going back to his loft and passing the fuck out for a few hours. But, the nausea and body aches had hit him almost immediately after leaving the hospital. So, instead, he had told his cab driver to take him to the Bloom Gallery. Justin was working a full shift today since his school was on a three-day weekend. He figured he could grab Justin from work and get him to come back to his loft with him. Brian wouldn’t say it out loud, but the way he was feeling right now had him terrified of being alone.

“Hey, Bri.” Lindsay greeted him the minute he stumbled through the door. “Are you sure you should be out and about in your condition?”

Brian adjusted the face mask he now wore when out in public to protect himself. “Fuck you, Lindsay.” Brian gasped, already out of breath from the short walk.

“Seriously, you look like shit.” Lindsay came over to him and helped guide him to a nearby chair. 

“I’m on the chemo diet. I heard it’s all the rage for cancer patients.” Brian quipped, looking sideways up at one of his oldest friends.

“Besides,” Brian grimaced at the pain shooting up from his joints. “I came to see Justin.”

Just as the words left his mouth, Justin came from the back carrying a large canvas. He saw Brian and immediately put it down against the nearest wall and rushed over.

“Brian! What are you doing here? You should be home. Resting.” Justin’s hands roamed along the planes of Brian’s face and his upper body before Justin’s eyes met Brian’s gaze.

“I realized…” Brian stopped to catch his breath again. Then he gave Lindsay a pointed look. Justin nodded in understanding. He stood up straight and faced the blonde woman.

“Hey, Linds, could you go get Brian a glass of water?” Justin asked, giving her his best pleading look.

“Of course!” Lindsay practically hopped into action.

Once she was gone, Brian crumpled against Justin, who was back to kneeling in front of him. “I realized I didn’t want to be alone. I know you are working, but could you…” Brian looked up at Justin, who nodded.

When Lindsay returned, Brian was breathing better, and Justin had called a new cab to take them to Brian’s loft. Brian accepted the glass of water, moved his mask, and took a big drink.

“Hey, Lindsay. I know I said I could work the whole day, and by leaving, I put you in a bit of a bind, but I think I should help Brian home and get him settled.”

For good measure, Brian protested, “Justin. No. Stay at work. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You couldn’t even make it all the way home. You came here.” Justin fixed Brian with a meaningful glance.

“Of course, Justin. I will be fine. The next gallery opening isn’t until next week. We have time.” Lindsay gave them both a smile and sent them on their way.

Brian had honestly expected more pushback from Lindsay on the matter but wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She had given Justin the day off with no fuss; he would take that win any day. On the cab ride over to his loft, Brian leaned against Justin’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He was so tired.

Before he knew it, Justin was nudging him awake and helping him out of the cab. The blond handed the cab driver a handful of bills and told him thanks. Brian’s bed couldn’t greet him soon enough. As soon as Justin slid the door to the loft open, Brian was slowly walking over to it, stripping as he went. Justin followed him shortly after with a bottle of water and some ibuprofen, just in case. Brian was almost half asleep by the time he lay down. Justin sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his thigh.

“Get some rest. I will be right here if you need me.” Justin moved his hand up to stroke Brian’s hair.

“Stay with me,” Brian mumbled, his eyelids feeling heavy.

“Yeah, I’ll be over on the couch drawing,” Justin whispered, still stroking Brian’s hair.

Brian nuzzled into Justin’s touch. “No, stay here with me.” And so, Justin did.

Brian fell asleep, curled up against Justin as he lay with his back propped up and his sketchpad on his lap. When he woke up sometime later, Justin was still in the same spot drawing away. Brian sat up enough to put his head onto Justin’s shoulder. He felt the smile creeping on his face as he and Justin lay there in silence, just existing together. Brian loved watching Justin make art. He nuzzled into Justin’s neck and gave him a kiss.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Justin brought his drawing hand up and cupped Brian’s cheek without turning away from his sketch pad.

Brian nodded sleepily. He was about to wrap his arm around Justin’s torso when his stomach lurched. He got up from the bed quickly and managed to get to the bathroom just in time to vomit everything in his stomach. Justin followed him a few minutes later, he had an open can of ginger ale in his hand. 

“I figured you could use this.” Justin smiled and handed over the can.

Brian moved away from the toilet and leaned against the shower wall. He took a sip, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

“This chemo shit sucks.” Brian finally muttered.

Justin plopped down on the floor next to him. “Yeah, I figured it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. Let’s just hope it helps.”

“If my cancer continues to spread after all this, I’m going to kill myself.” Brian scoffed, taking another sip of ginger ale.

Justin ran his fingers through Brian’s hair and came back with some of it. Brian’s eyes landed on the strands in Justin’s hand. With a sigh, Brian shrugged. His eyes stung with unshed tears. He knew the chemo was going to kill his hair, causing it to fall out. But, the reality of it was still hard to bear. Brian loved his looks, and now his outside finally matched the sickness that had been raging on the inside for months.

“There goes the last bit of me.” Brian muttered. He knew Justin wouldn’t understand, but he needed to say it.

“Your hair will grow back.” Justin pointed out. Bless this young, blond man for his insane amounts of optimism, even in the face of weakness and death.

Brian scoffed, pulling himself up off the floor. “But my reputation will never recover.” 

He shuffled back to his bed and crawled back in it, under the covers. Justin didn’t say anything, but Brian hadn’t expected he would. There was a reason he’d asked Justin to be here with him instead of someone like Michael or Lindsay. Brian didn’t need someone who would continue to placate him after he’d made it clear the point was moot. He needed someone who would understand enough to let him sit in his feelings however long he needed to.

Justin was about to rejoin him on the bed when someone knocked on the door. He leaned over to place a kiss on Brian’s cheek and then went to check the door.

“I’ll go see who it is, and send them away,” Justin whispered alongside his kiss.

Brian couldn’t do much more than nod, his body already on the verge of falling asleep. A few minutes later, Justin was back. Instead of getting on the bed, he came around to Brian’s side and kneeled down so they could be face-to-face. 

“I tried to send them away, but she’s insisting on seeing you. She said she didn’t care if her son’s assistant said no. She would be the judge of his condition herself.” Justin whispered, placing a hand on Brian’s arm in support.

“Fuck.” Brian groaned, turning his head into his pillow. What the fuck was his mother doing here?

“Go tell Saint Joan I’ll be out shortly and offer her a drink,” Brian mumbled, not taking his face out of his pillow. Justin squeezed his arm before departing. The thought of his mother alone sent a new wave of nausea through his body.

Brian took a deep breath and crawled out of bed. He hadn’t wanted to tell his mother that he had cancer, but there was no way she’d see him today and not figure it out. He might as well rip the bandaid off. Brian slowly made his way across his loft to the kitchen. His mother stood there awkwardly, looking around at all his designer fixtures, a judgmental look on her face.

“Brian!” Her face lit up the minute she saw him. “I went by your office, and they said you were out sick. I knew it couldn’t be good if you called out of work.” 

Brian went to the fridge and grabbed a cold can of ginger ale. Then he went to the cupboard and grabbed himself a glass. Only then did he stop right next to Justin and face his mother.

“So, I have cancer.” Brian decided the ripping the bandaid off approach was probably best. 

Justin reached over and grabbed Brian’s hand. He wanted desperately to allow him, but his mom didn’t know he was gay. He figured one bombshell was enough. He didn’t want to be responsible for his mom’s sudden heart attack over that. But she must’ve seen the movement anyway.

“It’s a sin.” She gave him a stern look, much like she used to when he was a kid and had pissed off his dad in some way. “God punishes those who act immorally.”

“So, you think I have cancer because I like to fuck guys?” Brian scoffed. “Gee, thanks, mom. I always look forward to our chats.”

“Mrs. Kinney,” Justin spoke up. 

“Justin.” Brian grabbed his hand and subtly shook his head. “I got this.”

“It’s not too late.” Joan continued as if Brian and Justin weren’t even there. “God still loves you. You can still change.”

Brian started to see red. It was one thing for his mother to force him into taking her to church a few Sundays a month, but it was another to spout her rhetoric at him while he was battling cancer.

“You have to fight temptation. Stay strong. Harden yourself.” Joan gave Brian more of her religious bullshit.

“I would love to harden myself, Mom. God, I would much rather be hard so I can fuck every hot guy I see. Instead, I get to puke my guts out and wonder if my body will ever stop hurting.” Brian spat at her in return. After he felt a little dizzy so he sat on a stool and closed his eyes.

“I think you should leave.” Brian heard Justin say. For once, he was grateful that he didn’t have to face down Joan Kinney alone. By the time Brian was able to fight off the dizzy spell and open his eyes, they were alone once more.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Brian mumbled as Justin stepped into his personal space and wrapped him in his arms.

“Me? What about you? She basically said God gave you cancer because you’re gay.” Justin exclaimed.

“It’s not as though I haven’t thought it before.” Brian got up and moved out of Justin’s touch, back toward his bed once more.

A few minutes later, Justin joined him on the bed. “Do you really think that?” 

Brian rolled his head into his pillow for a moment before turning back to Justin, giving him an answer.

“You try to avoid it, spending multiple Sundays a month escorting your mom to church while during the week, your body is being put through hell just to survive.” Brian’s eyes met Justin’s in the most vulnerable move Brian has ever made in his life.

Justin didn’t respond. Instead, he wrapped Brian up in his arms and hugged him tight. 

“Your cancer isn’t a punishment for you being gay. I hope you know that.”

Brian traced shapes onto Justin’s arms as they lay there in comfortable silence. It usually took him ages to get out of the negative headspace his mom always put him in. And yet, Justin managed to get him there in less than thirty minutes. He realized then that he always wanted Justin around. For the good parts and the bad.

“Move in with me,” Brian whispered against Justin’s temple. 

“What?” Justin turned so that they could look at each other.

“I know we’ve only known each other a few months, but I like it when you are here. And when you aren’t, I wouldn’t exactly mind it if you were.” 

One Year Later

Brian shuffled around the kitchen making coffee to go and putting the finishing touches on his outfit. He was trying to tie his tie and eat some toast when a pair of hands wrapped around his chest and took over. Brian smiled to himself, around the toast, and turned to face the owner of the arms.

Justin smiled at him, moving his arms from Brian’s chest up to his neck and pulling him closer for a kiss. They both deepen the exchange, almost forgetting about the coffee being made until the coffee maker goes off.

“I would love to stay here and keep doing this, but I’m going to be late for my meeting with Brown Athletics.” Brian smiled against Justin’s lips as he placed another quick kiss there.

“First day back after getting a clean bill of health. How does it feel?” Justin grinned. 

“Like a million bucks.” Brian handed Justin his own to-go mug of coffee. “What time is your gallery event tonight?”

“Seven, but you don’t have to come.” Justin looked down at his feet and shrugged. 

Brian gripped his chin and lifted it back up so they made eye contact once again. “You're showing your art. Of course, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The two grabbed what they needed and left the loft together. On the elevator, Brian leaned over and kissed Justin again.

“Besides, Emmett would murder me if I didn’t come.”

“Yeah, he really would.” Justin laughed. “He might seem mild-mannered on the surface, but don’t piss off a gay Southerner.”

“I would hate to find out what his Aunt Lula might’ve taught him about getting revenge,” Brian smirked. The two climbed into Brian’s Jeep, and he drove off toward Justin’s job.

Pulling up outside the Bloom Gallery, they were met by Lindsay, who was holding onto Gus’ hand. 

“Hey, Justin! Excited about tonight?” Lindsay smiled as she opened the back door of Brian’s Jeep and put Gus up into his booster seat.

Once Justin was out of the front seat, Lindsay leaned through the window to talk to Brian.

“Please drive carefully. Melanie will come and get him around 4.” Lindsay looked toward Gus and blew him a kiss. “Thank you again for doing this. I know you have that important meeting today.”

“Don’t worry about it. Sonny Boy and I are going to have a blast. Isn’t that right?” Brian looked in the review mirror at Gus, who threw him a thumbs-up.

“Okay. Call if you need anything.” Lindsay worried her lip, looking between Brian and Gus.

“I’ll be fine. I’m 100% healthy and want to spend more time with my son. Besides, he loves Ted, not sure why.” Brian shrugged and waved Lindsay off before he turned the Jeep back on and threw the gear into drive.

Later that night, Brian was dressed in his nicest Armani dress pants and button-down. It was open at the collar, showing off a bit of his chest. He had a glass of water in his hand. There were at least a hundred people milling about the gallery, all looking at the various pieces of artwork available. Brian hung back and just watched. He tucked his lips in and smiled as he made eye contact with Justin across the room.

It blew his mind to think a year and a half ago, Justin wouldn’t have been able to even walk through that door. Much less mingle with a hundred people, most of them strangers. Justin had come a long way since the first night they met. Now, he was out almost every night hanging out with Daphne or Emmett or joining Brian at Babylon, which he bought for himself as a “congratulations for beating cancer” present. Things were so different, and yet Brian still felt compelled to watch over Justin and protect him from himself.

It didn't escape Brian's notice that Justin's support group leader and his friend from the group, Margaret, were both in attendance tonight. Brian's heart swelled with pride, knowing that Justin had more people than ever before rooting for him to succeed. Even his mom had shown up to lend her support, though Brian couldn't currently locate her.

With that thought, Brian strode across the hall and swung his arm around Justin’s chest from behind. He brought his lips to Justin’s ear and whispered.

“Who created that abstract painting with all the blues and reds and greys? The one that looks like Emmett’s street at night.”

Justin grinned and turned in Brian’s arms. “I wasn’t sure you’d understand it. I wanted it to be vague enough that anyone could buy it but specific enough that if you or I saw it, we’d remember.”

“I put a bid on it. It’ll look great in my office.” Brian leaned his forehead against Justin’s and smiled into a kiss.

Then he leaned forward and whispered, “Do you think anyone will miss you if I take you to the studio and show my appreciation?”

“Brian! We’re in public!” Justin leaned back. But his mouth was in the biggest smile of his life, and his eyes were alight with excitement. “As long as we are quick.”

“Alright, we can wait til later. I’d much rather take my time. Paint a canvas of my own.” Brian looked at Justin as if he hung the moon. Which in Brian’s world, he had. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.

“Sounds perfect.” Justin smiled as he pulled Brian in for another searing kiss.