#the vet tech at least could have stuck around

[victorluvsalice]

-->And the moment I arrived, THERE was the holiday overlay! Whew – so changing lots got the game to acknowledge the holiday. Still worrying, but at least my Sims could PARTICIPATE!

First things first, though – it was hot in Brindleton, so I had Smiler change into their hot weather wear (as Alice and Victor had already done so – vampires are immune to temperature, so they don’t automatically change, which can be a little annoying sometimes), then start looking around for a good spot for the food stand while Victor felt the love with Shadow and Alice signed up Surprise to be cured of her affliction. I finally got Smiler to put the stand in a good location as Alice and Surprise waited for the vet, made sure it was stocked, and prepared to start a food sale –

Only for the game to tell me it couldn’t have “two social events” going on at the same time. Hmmm. All right, I was game to wait until after Surprise was cured. I instead had Smiler entertain Kelly with a laser pointer to pass the time –

-->And decided, “you know what, Victor’s Pet Training skill is almost up to Level 4, meaning leveling it up would count toward New Skill Day – why not train Shadow to heel?” So that’s exactly what he did, getting the dog to follow him around outside the hospital. Shadow was – a BIT distracted by her own tail at first, but as time went on she got better at keeping pace with Victor. XD I then checked in on how things were going with Surprise’s examination...

Only to discover they weren’t. For some reason, midway through the exam, the vet just stopped what she was doing, and Surprise was let go without anyone even trying to diagnose what was wrong with her. >( Damn glitchy game...I instead decided to have Alice get Shock spayed instead and see what happened there – fortunately THAT worked, and it went a lot faster too. Maybe because both vets were awake and working this time, instead of one sleeping on the waiting room couch. XD (Seriously, that ALWAYS seems to happen when I first load into the lot for some reason...) Alice was starting to get twitchy from being around all those strangers, though, so I had Smiler sign Surprise up for examination number two and let her clear her head by running off to a far-away dig site to see what was inside. Ended up digging up a new fossil rock with a fossilized egg inside, nice. :) She then went and entertained poor coned Shock with some laser pointer in the vet’s back yard while Smiler chatted with Brant Hecking inside the vet (learning he was a Personal Sports Trainer for The Other Sports Team, apparently) –

And Victor got Pet Training 4 from working with Shadow! :D One person’s New Skill Day skill down – two to go!

-->But first – finally getting Surprise cured! Yes, this time Surprise got checked over by the OTHER vet, who successfully determined she had Winterfest Fever. Smiler paid the big bucks for the best treatment (as I say so often, my Sims can afford it), and the cat was given a shot that brought her back to normal. I was very pleased with this, both because hooray, the vet lot decided to work –

[ellecdc]

perhaps r works as a vet or with a wildlife protection agency etc and brings a horse to farrier!remus and he just falls for her bc he sees how much she cares about the horse and her gentle nature and it soothes him 😋

this has been stuck in my mind since my original post re: farrier!Remus so I finally took a stab at it! thanks for the prompt, I hope I did it justice! <3

A Horseshoe for Luck

Farrier!Remus Lupin x Veterinarian!reader who consults with Remus on a case [1.3k words]

CW: fem!reader, situation inspired by a horse who was lost for a few years and when found had severe overgrowth of his hooves (happy ending), don't look too closely at the plot if you're a Horse Girl (gn) thank you xx

Remus heaved in a sigh as he pulled down the long gravel driveway to his latest appointment. 

He’d known there was a new vet in town, which came with a certain level of relief and a certain level of concern.

The rural coasts of Wales were no doubt hurting for Veterinarians (and service providers in general), but the communities were notoriously closed-knit and standoffish to ‘outsiders’ and were completely incapable of keeping newcomers around for any amount of time.  

Every new vet that this village saw came from the city, and every new vet left after a measly year-or-two long stint max. 

He couldn’t necessarily blame them; sometimes it took a local to manage the locals, but this left him with a certain level of distrust.

Too many times has Remus been called upon by the new city-sent vets just to be spoken down to or dismissed entirely because they believed that they knew better.

So, though he knew this vet would probably be much the same - some young, newly minted vet fresh out of school who had accepted the first available job they could find - he also knew that his area was in desperate need of a vet, and that he also had a job to do.

So he dutifully parked his truck and opened the cab to retrieve his tools when a frazzled looking tech approached him.

“You must be Mr. Lupin! I’m Hannah, I was the one who spoke to you on the phone.” She offered quickly. 

“Just Remus s’fine. Was this a wild horse?” He asked, not interested in smalltalk as he followed her towards a large barn. 

“No, not originally at least. The owners have been looking for him for two years and finally found him with a wild herd - managed to bring him back in.”

“Is he sound?”

“His hooves are in horrid condition - the doctor has done a preliminary check on the rest of him but would really like to get him some relief for his feet before she does anything more to him.” 

“And who are they?” He asked as he passed a couple standing outside of the barn doors.

“The owners.” The tech - Hannah - offered quickly. 

“Have they not seen their horse?” He asked, noticing that the tech hesitated before turning down the run where he could hear some activity. 

“They have, but they were very anxious and excited to be reunited with him. The doctor felt that for an animal who has spent the last two years in a wild herd, it might be best to keep the area calm. I - erm, well, are you calm, Mr. Lup- erm, Remus?”

Remus let out a snort and nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’m pretty calm.”

Hannah smiled in relief as she turned the corner which exposed a large brown and white paint horse secured in cross ties. Standing at his head where there should be a stuffy city vet in a crisp white lab coat barking orders at various techs and stablehands was simply a woman (a very beautiful woman, Remus had to admit, though didn’t feel it was entirely professional to recognise), wearing dirty activewear with her hair messily pulled back and a stethoscope thrown over her shoulders as she murmured quietly to the horse. 

Remus almost felt bad for the horse when Hannah interrupted your conversation with it to introduce you to Remus. 

You accepted Remus’ handshake quickly without the usual stuffy-city vet hesitation to check for clean fingernails (he worked with the likes of sodding barn animals for christ sake, give him a break) and a warm smile that actually met your eyes as you looked into Remus’ (and into his soul, he was sure). 

“Thank you so much for coming, Remus. I’ve heard great things about you since I’ve arrived, I’m only sorry I haven’t had a chance to make your acquaintance until now.”

“I’ve been eager to meet you as well.” Liar, Remus scolded himself immediately; though, had he known the new vet had been the likes of you? Well, maybe he would have been more eager. “So, the poor lad’s got some major overgrowth?” He asked as he looked at the horses hooves instead of admiring your figure like he’d much prefer to be doing.

“I can’t tell if there’s lameness because of an injury or if it’s just his instability on these hooves of his so I figured a trim was our next best step, but what do you think? Is there something I’m overlooking?”

Remus managed to mask his surprise at your collaboration with a simple farrier (versus what would have usually been orders given in a bored tone before the vet fucked off further into the barn only to come out in the end to inspect his work) by doing a walkaround as he felt the horses legs. 

The horse seemed somewhat tense at the attention he was receiving, but quickly calmed when you began massaging around his neck and murmuring to him in a low, dulcet tone.

Fuckin’ hell, Remus was jealous of a horse. 

“No, I think you’re quite right. Let’s get him onto more balanced footing and then you can work your magic.” He offered after his inspection, earning him a beaming smile from you in the process. 

“Are we shoeing him?”

You tilted your head as you looked over at the horse as if waiting for him to respond. “What do you think?” You asked Remus instead. “A horseshoe for luck?”

And though Remus knew that you knew the shoes would really just provide more strength and protection for the equines hooves, he was not one to deny himself a chance at luck, so he quickly agreed.

“Do you mind an audience, or would you prefer if I left?” You asked then as you backed away from the horse to allow Remus to set up.

He normally preferred solitude; he was in this business because he, admittedly, found the company of animals far more enjoyable than that of humans, but he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t quite ready to have you leave his company yet. 

So you sat - on the dusty, straw strewn flooring - as you watched Remus work; polite conversation inching further and further away from business as the job progressed. What started out as him asking how long you’d been out of school, what made you want to study veterinary medicine, ended up with what brought you here of all places.

“Peace…solitude. I wanted a quieter pace of life and to live somewhere where I could know the people around me instead of just knowing that there were people around me; does that make sense?” You asked then, allowing your head to loll to the side as you considered him. 

“I think so; don’t usually find people running here though…most are running away.”

“Looking for a quicker pace of life?”

“Something like that.” He agreed as he finished up one hoof and moved onto another. 

“But not you?”

“Not me.” He agreed.

“Why’s that?”

Remus paused at that, chancing a look at you and finding that to be a horrid mistake because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to return to his work when you were smiling at him that sweetly. 

“I wanted peace…solitude. A quiet pace of life where I could know the people around me, I suppose.” 

Your smile grew subtly at his rephrasing of your previous words. “Fair enough.” 

The trim seemed to do the trick; the horse no longer showing any lameness in his legs as Remus watched you lunge him around the dusty arena alongside the very happy owners. 

“What do you think, Remus? Did he look good?” You called to him as you handed the lead to the owners. 

“Looked perfect.” He responded simply. 

The horse, you, the rural coast of Wales now that you were here.

He found himself suddenly very happy to have a new vet in town, and hoped to all hell that you outlasted the many vets that came before you.

[dickarchivist]

I've got you

Clone OC Banshee × GN-Reader

Word Count: 727

Prompt: "back hugs" from @littlemissmanga and "comfort fic for nonverbal reader" from @nika6q

Song: Get You The Moon by Kina (feat. Snøw)

Rating: PG, but as always Minors DNI 🔞

Contents and Warnings: hurt/comfort, light swearing, Banshee kicks a door down in the name of love.

Summary: It's been a long time since Banshee's been home, and the stress of life has you overwhelmed at the worst possible time: right when Banshee gets home.

Author's Notes: another Banshee POV!!! Some hurt/comfort this day. Sorry it's so short, and not at all what I've been saying I'd write next, but at least it's something.

Taglist: @returnofthepineapple @wizardofrozz @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @n0vqni @sev-on-kamino @mythical-illustrator @523rdrebel @littlemissmanga @atomickidsoul @moonwreckd

"Hey Ban~ Today is day 43 of our tragic separation, you're millions of miles away, and it's not fair. So today at work..."

"Day 55 of "No Banshee hugs for me". Seriously, when are you coming home? I miss you. Anyway, my Tooka came back from the vet today- oh right, I adopted a tooka kitten yesterday, I bet you can't guess what I named him-"

"Day 97, Rai told me you miss me. I just... I wish I could hear it from you. I know, I know it's not easy, I know you don't talk, I just-- I'd do anything to have you with me, just so I could understand that you miss me..."

"Day 122... I wish you'd come home..."

I've been listening to your recordings every day since I was deployed. All 132 of them. Every single day since we left, you sent me a diary of your day, stars I can't tell you how much I needed every single one of those. Running through battle fire, hearing you laugh about what "Banbino" was doing. I can't believe you named your tooka after me.

I've thought about you every second of the days. How your hair is tossed in the morning, how you scrunch your nose at how I make Caf... don't be mad, but I still haven't learned how to make it proper. The way your voice sounds and feels when you put my hands on your throat and chest, so I can feel every way you say you love me... I've thought about being with you again since the second I turned to leave 132 days ago.

So why am I stuck behind your front door? I can't even raise my hand to knock. Can't even enter the code to your flat... it's my number, you told me that so long ago now... I've been keeping track, I know it's your day off, I know you're just right behind this damn door so why can't I open it!? Come on Banshee! Open the door! Open the damn door, they're right on the other side, just open--

I... I heard that. Did you fall? Are you hurt? No, no don't be hurt I'm so bad at medical. C'mon, karkin' door open! Remind me to fix your locks, I'll replace them, I swear. Oh fuck, the hinges too, I uh... I kicked a little too hard, I think...

"Ban...?" You're crying... why... why are you crying?

When you hold your arms out to me, I dont even take a full step forward before you recoil and cover your face with a racking sob. I don't stop moving. I can't, you need me. I get to one knee behind you and gently rub your back, but it only makes you curl in on yourself more... what can I do for you?

Carefully I sit behind you, and collect you up in my arms, your back pressed to my chest. With my helmet off, I put my head on your shoulder, "I've got you, Cyare... I'm here."

You sound like me a moment, trying to talk, trying to force words. I shush you, leaning my head on yours and swaying softly. Eventually, you turn around, and bury your face in my neck. When I hum, you start to relax in my arms, and eventually, I can't help the little chuckle in my throat. You're snoring... Stars I love you.

It's another hour before you wake up. I moved us to your bed, and had since changed into the civvies you'd gotten me. Softer clothes, I figured you'd like it more than my hard armor...

"Banshee? You're... you're really home? I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry for-- I-I was just- I was so--" your blush when I press my lips to yours, it's so warm I could feel it on my own skin.

"I... it's okay, y-you don't ha-have to expl-pl-plain." Your eyes shine at the sound of my voice... I wish I could talk better, I'd speak for you all the time. "I've g-got you, Cyare."

You nod and set your head back on my chest. As I hum again, you join in, mumbling the words under your breath when you feel up to it. Take your time, Cyare. I know how hard it is to talk, I'm not going anywhere.

[aramorehq]

Your name is LEO BISHOP, though you do look a bit like TOM HOLLAND. You are 25 years old, identify as CIS MALE and your pronouns are HE/HIM. You work as a VET TECH, and live in an APARTMENT. Some would say that your seven deadly sin is GLUTTONY and that’s because HE ABUSES HIS XANAX PRESCRIPTION DESPITE THE FACT HIS MOM DIED OF A DRUG OVERDOSE.

SUMMARY: (AT LEAST FIVE HEADCANONS)

Leo mostly grew up with his grandparents. His mom was a struggling addict since before he was born and actively used drugs and drank while she was pregnant with him. He believes maybe that’s where so many of his mental health issues stemmed. For as long as he could remember he was always scared and sad. His whole life he felt like there was a stormy rain cloud above his head and that it followed him everywhere. Ask anyone though and they’ll say Leo is one of the kindest and brightest souls around. After a while he got pretty good at hiding his true feelings. 

His dad was only in the picture until he was about two years old. He doesn’t remember the man and from what’s he’s heard of him he doesn’t want to. He was a pretty heavy dealer and ended up getting busted for selling heavy drugs and was sent away. Leo never heard from him ever since. After that it was him and his mom. Well, for a little while. His maternal grandparents knew their daughter was an addict. Hell, her long time boyfriend, and father of her child, did just get sent to prison for dealing. Well, long story short they stepped in and brought little Leo to Aramore so he could grow up normally. His mom was sent to rehab time and time again but she loved drugs more than her son. It was sad really, because whenever Leo was able to see his mom he was ecstatic but she was always gone so fast. She was never sober long enough to be in his life. Looking back now Leo realizes that it was best his grandparents took custody of him, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Then it happened. He was in his early teens. He came home from school and his grandparents told them his mom overdosed. Things took a turn after that. Leo shut everyone out, even the few friends he did have at school. His mental health declined and he was put on mood stabilizers and anti depressants. Sure, they helped a little, but that didn’t prevent every other shitty thing to happen in his life. When he was a senior in high school things started getting better for him brain wise. He took his meds but then his grandmother fell ill. Leo was very, very close with both of his grandparents and did not take their passing well. After his grandma passed it was just a matter of time before his grandpa did too. They do say old people can die of a broken heart. Leo truly believes his grandpa held on for as long as he could. Long enough to see Leo get into college. 

College was strange. Leo wanted nothing to do with it. He just wanted to curl up and die. Still, he had dreams too. He was very passionate about animals and was very attached his grandparents' dog growing up. He was always helping any critters in need and actively refuses to eat or use any animal product. He has always been quiet about his passion, but it was there. 

Surprisingly college went by like a blur. Well, maybe that’s because his anxiety had been at an all time high and he was put on Xanax. It helped, but it wasn’t enough to keep him calm on a bad day. So, he started taking more of it. And when swallowing wasn’t doing the trick he put it straight up his nose. The effects kicked in much faster but they didn’t last nearly as long. That only made Leo seek out more. He was never one to do hard drugs. He saw what that did to his family. No, he stuck with his prescription and occasionally smoked a little weed. 

Before he could say the word Leo was addicted to Xanax. He never saw an issue with it because it was legal and he had a bottle to prove it was his. When he began running out of a month’s worth after two weeks though things began to get ugly. He knew he needed it and the pharmacy wasn’t going to refill his script if he was abusing it. So, he looked elsewhere. He found someone that would sell it to him and he was thankful for that. It was pretty easy to find dealers in college though.

After school Leo was quick to find a real job. He doesn’t really know how he managed to graduate nor does he really remember half of the time he was in school, but he did it and that’s what mattered. He got a job at a veterinary clinic and soon enough was able to quit his shitty paying job that was barely keeping his head above water. Sure, he had money from his grandparents as he was the only living beneficiary, but he needed that money to pay for school. He still had rent to worry about. Thankfully, his job at the clinic was much better paying and he can live a little less stressful when it comes to money. He’s in no way well off, but he can order takeout and buy Xanax and not worry about if his rent will be late.

So far, his addiction hasn’t effected his work life. He loves his job and he loves all the animals. He doesn’t have the space for a lot of them right now, but he does have a dog. When he gets a bigger place he would love to add a cat and maybe a bird to the mix. For now he’s content with his dog. He probably loves her more than anyone else in the world, but that’s because he doesn’t have anyone besides her. He’s a very lonely person and he knows he should try and make some more friends or maybe try and score a date, but he’s awkward and has no desire to try and form any real relationships that he doesn’t already have.

[innytoes]

20. Oversized sweaters with nothing but sexy panties underneath for Rulie (or Rukebox) because I have to ❤️

The text came right after she'd managed to wrestle herself into the very, very sexy dress Flynn had helped her pick out last month. The one she had been saving for a special occasion, and by that she meant 'a date night where she really wanted to blow Reggie's socks right off'. And also the rest of his clothes.

Except she'd managed to wriggle it on, when her phone chimed, and Reggie's name (surrounded by hearts) popped up on the screen.

💖Reggie💖: Sorry doll, emergency surgery and all the other vet techs have already left 💖Reggie💖: promise I'll make it up to you

She read the text, took a deep breath, and texted him back a quick 'good luck, hope the critter is okay, love you'. He didn't respond, didn't even read the messages, which meant it was probably a bad one. She hoped the animal was okay.

Then, she stared at herself in the mirror, taking a moment to appreciate how good she looked before starting on the process of wriggling herself out of the super sexy dress. At least she hadn't put make-up on yet. She threw her hair into a basic bun and padded back into the bedroom, hiding the dress back in the back of her closet and ditching the bra that admittedly made her boobs look great, but wasn't exactly the most comfortable.

Instead, she put on with her favourite oversized sweater, the fleecy one with the pastel galaxy print that came down over her hips. She ordered herself a pizza, as well as one for Reggie that he could reheat when he got home, and opened a bottle of wine. And then, she grabbed her laptop and selected a random episode of Gilmore Girls to mope to (just a little) and curled up under a blanket.

By the time Reggie came home, Lorelai and her mother had had three different fights and Julie had been texting Flynn a long, multi-text screed about how Reggie was the perfect mix of Luke, Dean, and Jess (as Flynn sent increasingly mocking texts back).

He opened the door with his key, before sticking his hand through and waving a white handkerchief. “I come in peace!” he called. “And I brought Cookie Dough ice cream! Don’t be mad!”

“I’m not mad, you goof,” she said, peering over the couch and smiling when he stuck his head through the door. Her smile dropped when she saw the amount of blood on his scrubs.

“Bad case?” she asked.

“Hit-and-run, no chip. The pup lost a leg, but we think she’ll make a full recovery.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she said, and he looked embarrassed and pleased at the same time. “Go take a shower, I’ll reheat your pizza in the oven.”

“You got me pizza after I bailed on our date?” Reggie asked, touched.

“You were saving a puppy, of course I did,” she said, getting up and taking the bag with the ice cream out of his hand and leaning to press a kiss to his cheek. She puttered around the kitchen while he cleaned up, reheating the pizza, stashing the ice cream for later, pouring Reggie a glass of wine as well. She was just rummaging around in the dishwasher for the pizza slicer when she heard Reggie return.

“Holy shit, Jules, are you trying to kill me?” he asked. She looked over her shoulder, confused (but victorious, pizza slicer in hand). Reggie moved into the kitchen, pulling her close and sliding his hand down her back, then up her thigh. “Those damn panties,” he growled, hand resting on her ass, fingers sliding over the dark purple lace.

She flushed, smiling her way into a kiss anyway. She hadn’t bothered to change out of her date night panties, that was true. “Pizza first. Then dessert. Then you can help me take these off.”

“Deal.”

[troublesometrollhunters]

Dating headcanon for Aja?

( Pls make your asks include Valentine's Day but I'll still take it cause Aja )

~ As an alien hiding among humans on a planet millions of lightyears from her home it's a complicated relationship to say the least. It takes thq Queen in Waiting some time for her to realize she likes you. Not because she didn't start out liking you but that she didn't realize how much she liked you.

~ Aja loved you first but doesn't know how to express it and although well intentioned her compliments often come out strange? She tries to flirt and it's very awkward. She's confident so it's not the flirting that comes off as awkward but what she's saying is defiently not how people on Earth flirt.

~ Tries a little too hard. Aja hasn't really had to try to be good on Earth at anything because nothing has been a challenge. Her and Krel are strong, and their intelligence is beyond most humans comprehension. But when it comes to you she has to try. It's different and actually really unpleasant for her because she's never had to try since coming to Earth, she's just been able to do. Taking her time to process her emotions and become your friend using patience is a challenge for her.

~ Aja's feelings really start when Krel becomes one of your good friends. Darci and Mary have never really been nice to Krel but you have depsite him being seen as weird. You two get paired together on a project and your fascinated by Krel's ideas. You don't understand all of them (as their Akriddion based) but your patient and kind making Krel less irritable. He explains and even if you don't get it you try too, something other humans haven't done. Krels happy to have a friend and your glad to have a different perspective. You start hanging out with Aja's brother more and by extension Aja too.

~ The first time you go to the Mother Ship your super kind to the Blanks and really respectful to Vex. He's about to eviscerate you but you ask him if he's a vet when he mentions war. Aja and Krel watch in amazement as the commander begins regalling a tale to you and you sit quietly listening to him as he rambles. Krel eventually makes Vex leave so you can work and Aja is impressed.

~ It's after you and Krel get an A together and you keep hanging out with them that Aja realizes she really likes you around. She sees how happy you make her brother and how much you entertain Vex. He says he admires your warrior spirit and he'd teach you to fight if you weren't so fleshy.

~ As Aja is trying to figure out her feelings and you are left unaware of them, Darci and Mary try and set you two up. They keep trying to tell you Aja is Queen Bee and would make an amazing girlfriend. She is energetic and herself and it's a good change of pace to how most highschool boys are. She loves hanging out with you and when your partnered up in classes she gets excited. Mary also likes to (not so) subtly quote Aja telling her that, "School is boring but (Y/N) makes it so much more lively"

~ It's sweet how much your friends care but it can make group hang outs feel tense. You know Mary and Darci really want you in a relationship with Aja but you don't know if she feels the same way, if you feel the same way. These things can't be forced! Aja is slowly but surely working up the courage to tell you while you reflect on your own feelings.

~ Krel wants to show you he's an Akriddion before Aja even considers it. He explains how having a human know who they are could help them hide better and he doesn't want to lie to you anymore. Your their friend and friends don't lie to friends. Plus you seem like you'd understand. Aja is considering but she feels unsure. (Honestly Krel just wants to show off alien tech and teach you about Akriddion things)

~ Quickly things get complicated when Bounty hunter starys arriving on Earth. An alien bounty hunter sees you with the Royals and now your on Morandos list and your life is in danger.

~ The Alpha Trion have made you a target just like them and the Royals don't know what to do. If they tell you now you may think they've been lying to you to get the bounty but if they don't tell you, you'd be in constant danger and not know.

~ As Aja begins figuring out her feelings for you and what she wants to share, her and Krel now make it their job to protect you. They hang out with you whenever they can and try and be with you at all times while acting very suspicious. It's very concerning? And also really weird? You're worried.

~ One night while the twins are following you the Trion strike. Alpha has a lazer gun pointed to your head while Aja and Krel fight Omega and Beta. Your stuck with Alpha and as Aja fights she knows she loves you. If she lost you it'd be as devastating as losing her parents. Your her other half. You complete her core.

~ Vex shows up to help but everyone is surprised how well you handled the attempted kidnapping. You grabbed a giant branch when Alpha wasn't paying attention and smacked him as hard as you could before snatching his gun. The trion has to retreat and your left with your friends in their real form.

~ You look at Aja, Krel, and Vex hands shaking as you hold the space ray before you drop it and hug them.

"Your not scared?"

"You don't hate us?"

Not of your friends. Not of your family.

~ Aja finally admits her feelings that night and you smile. Giving her a kiss returning her feelings the Royal couldn't be any more happy as she smiles as you. Whatever was coming, you'd face it. Together.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

The gang on their wedding days

[Been meaning to post this one for a while — since I’m applying to get married today, now seems like the time.]

Jake steps into the room like a child wandering into his parents’ dinner party.  His bow tie is askew, seams of his jacket misaligned for all that it’s a custom-tailored tuxedo.  If the buttons of his shirt aren’t one hole off from their intended placement, they still manage to convey that impression from across the room.

Rachel feels a rush of affection for him, her first best friend.  The boy who’d run and fought and splashed through mud with her, back before adults started telling her to be careful of her dress and him to be careful of her.  Only he could show up to his own wedding looking like he’s ready to be expelled at any moment.  Only Jake.

And yes, she gets mushy at weddings.  Sue her.

Tom steps up next to Jake, far more elegant in an off-the-rack suit.  Some people actually got the fashionable genes in this family.

Rachel surges across the room.  Tom gets a quick hug, and then she turns all her attention on Jake.

“You only have to look nice for the next three hours,” she tells him briskly.

“Three.  Hours,” Jake repeats.

With expert motions she realigns his… everything, until at the very least the clothes are sitting the way the tailor intended.  She tries to finger-comb his hair, thankful for the heels that put her at an inch above his height, but it’s obvious that he has also been running his hands through it and the style is hopelessly deformed.

“You can survive anything for three hours,” Rachel says as she does all this.  “I’ve seen you do it.”

“But if I mess it up—”

“Then stop, go back, and do whatever it is over.  We’re not exactly on a time pressure, here.  Nobody’s gonna die if you trip at the altar or forget your lines.”

“Okay.”  He stuffs his hands in his pockets, deforming his jacket again.  “Okay.”

She can see him starting to relax as he glances around, shoulders coming down.  Cassie’s place isn’t quite like they remember — it’s been repaired since the war, the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic expanded to nearly five times its original size — but it still feels as close to home as any place does.

“Have a glass of water,” Rachel says.

“But what if I have to pee during the ceremony?”

She rolls her eyes.  “Babysit him,” she mouths at Tom.

Tom gives her a gesture in response that approximates What do you think I’ve BEEN doing?  Whether he means the last four hours or the last twenty-six years is, really, a moot point.

Rachel leaves him to it, and charges off to go check on the others.

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

Marco leans against a tent pole, trying to roll one of the rings across his fingers the way Vegas poker players do with chips.  So far it’s not going well.

“Canapé,” Ax is saying carefully.  He attempts to lean next to Marco, nearly going all the way over.  “Can-nap-peee?”

“Uh, no.”  Marco catches the ring as it makes its third or fourth bid for freedom, stuffing it back into his pocket.  “That…”  He tilts his champagne flute to point.  “…is a canopy.  Or a chuppah, I guess.  Canopee.  Canapay is the little pastry thing you’ve already filched in bulk, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Ah,” Ax says.  And then, “This temperature and rate of precipitation is within optimal survival parameters for humans, is it not?”

“Nuh-uh, Ax-Man, I will not be pulled in by your smooth small-talk skills.”

“Did you not wish to make conversation?”  Ax frowns.  And then he stuffs another canapé in his mouth.  “This is making conversation,” he adds through the mouthful.

Marco squints.  “Is it, though?”

“It is indeed.  Did you know that the rotating-wheel can opener was patented in 1870?”

Marco’s response to that one gets cut off when Rachel comes charging across the open tent space like a small freight train.  Tobias is balanced on her shoulder, flaring slightly as she runs.  She yanks the champagne flute out of his hand.  Marco makes a squeak of protest, but Rachel just sets it firmly on a bussing tray and turns back to glare at him.

“What did we agree?” she asks sternly.

Marco rolls his eyes.  “That I’d stay sober-ish for the toast, and not do anything too embarrassing.”

“You’re the best man.  You have one job, Marco.”

“Excuse you, the best man’s one job was that banger of a bachelor-slash-ette party we did Wednesday night.  Did you like the part where we all dived out of a helicopter and flew clear through the lower atmosphere to that rooftop bar?  Because—”

“So you got the drinking out of your system.  You promised.”

“Sober-ish, come on, it’s just one wine-spritzer-thing!”

Rachel turns away from him, looking Ax over.  “You realize you’re going to have to demorph and remorph at some point before the ceremony, right?” she asks.  “And that when you do, someone’s going to have to go through the whole kit and caboodle of getting you into that tux all over again?”

“Yes,” Ax says.  “Yes, I do.”

She stares at him.  He stares back, looking as innocent as it is possible to look while also chewing three jalapeño pastries at the same time.

«You should probably just listen to her,» Tobias suggests.  «By the way, where’s your date?  Not that I quake in fear for the wedding cake or anything, but, uh…»

“Menderash has been instructed not to eat anything on a human plate without seeking my opinion first,” Ax says, somewhat stiffly.

“Yeah,” Marco says.  “So far he’s only eaten two earthworms, a candle, some decorative sand, and part of Collette’s bouquet.  You two have nothing to worry about.”

“Part of Collette’s bouquet?” Rachel demands.  “We can’t send a bridesmaid up the aisle without—”

“Already replaced it, I am on top of this.”  Marco flips his hair back from his face.  “I am a flower master.”

«So where is Menderash now?» Tobias asks.

“Helping Cassie’s mom,” Marco explains.

«And Cassie’s mom is…?»

“Delivering a baby cow.”

Rachel makes a noise like she’s choking on air.  “Doesn’t Michelle have vet techs for that kind of thing?  She’s supposed to be getting ready, not, not…”

“It’s cool,” Marco says.  “She’s got her makeup on, her hair is done perfectly, she’s got an apron-thing to keep her dress nice and gloves over her nails, it was a breech birth so they needed a real doctor and Walter was busy supervising the caterers, she’s got Menderash and Steve helping her out—”

“She kidnapped Jake’s dad?” Rachel demands overtop the continuing babble.

“He said he had never delivered an offspring outside of his own species before, and expressed deep curiosity on the subject,” Ax offers.  “Menderash is a certified medic with andalite training, so they should be well-equipped to assist.”

Marco makes jazz hands in the air.  “It’s a free pre-dinner show!  Cow birth.  Better than icebreakers.”

There’s a very long pause.  Rather than dignify that with a response, Rachel turns and stalks away.

Marco watches her go, halfway awed at her ability to navigate an open yard so well while not only wearing six-inch heels and a multi-layer floor-length dress, but also balancing an enormous updo on top of her head and a red-tailed hawk on her left shoulder.

“Is it just me, or did Jake and Cassie make a monster when they asked her to be maid of honor?” Marco says.

«You wanna take over her responsibilities, then?»

Of course Tobias heard that.  Stupid hawk hearing.

“No thank you!” Marco yells after them.

Cassie, meanwhile, is currently picking her way across the open space under the tent, bunches of dress hiked up to above her knees.  This last is, of course, the source of Rachel’s consternation.

“Here.”  Rachel attempts to pull the wads of skirt out of Cassie’s hands and drop them back to the ground.  “You’re going to wrinkle it.”

Cassie stubbornly refuses to let go.  “You told me not to let it drag on the ground.  If I let it down, it’ll drag.”

“Cassie, Cassie.  That is a hand-tailored Christian Dior gown that I commissioned to be custom-fitted to your measurements.  There is no way that it is too long if you let it…”

Cassie drops the bunches of tulle.  The end of the skirt falls all the way down, where the bottom two inches rest, unmistakably, on the muddy ground.

Rachel somehow manages to wince with her entire body while also not moving at all.

«It’s a look,» Tobias suggests, by way of consolation.  «Kind of.»

“How…?”  Rachel peers closer at Cassie.  “Wait, where are your shoes?”

Cassie shrugs, embarrassed.  “Uh, inside somewhere.  I was having trouble balancing in them.”

“Well that’s why!”  Rachel’s emphatic gesture almost dislodges Tobias.  With years’ experience, he dodges her waving arm and retains his perch.  “The dress was tailored to fit you with shoes on.”

“They were getting stuck in the grass—”

“They’re kitten heels!”

“Yeah, and they’re still heels.”  Cassie looks stuck somewhere between amusement and embarrassment.  “I don’t really do heels.  Sorry.”

“Hey Tobias?” Rachel says, as if to thin air.

«Nuh-uh, leave me out, I want no part in—»

“Remember me telling Cassie that we should really try the whole outfit on before the wedding?”

«Uh.  Yes?»

“Do you also remember Cassie agreeing to it, and then the day of, haring off to go try and save a bunch of vultures instead?  Remember how we tried to reschedule, and there was that ALF mission on the same day so she never showed?  Remember that?”

Cassie clears her throat loudly.  “I think it’s a very nice dress.  It’s fluffy and also comfortable, and look!”  She tucks her hands away.  “It has pockets.”

«Vultures are actually fundamental for waste disposal in ecosystems all over the world, and the poisons used on livestock—»

“Do you think you could at least wear the shoes long enough to go up the aisle?” Rachel asks.  “And maybe even for a few photos as well?”

 “Uh.  I’ll try.”  Cassie hikes her skirt back up (Rachel full-body winces again) and starts picking her way across the lawn back toward the house.

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to un-wrinkle it in time,” Rachel mutters.

«Yep.  So you’re just going to have to live with it.»

“I hate living with it.”

«Wanna go check on whatever monstrosity of a replacement bouquet Marco probably inflicted on Collette?»

“Fine, fine.”

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

Cassie walks up the aisle in a custom-tailored gown, an edelweiss and valerian flower crown, and slightly muddy Timberland work boots.  The sole on the boots is apparently tall enough that the skirt does, not, in fact, drag on the ground or get tangled in her feet.

«Somewhere out there,» Tobias comments, «Christian Dior is crying into an overpriced silk handkerchief and doesn’t even know why.»

Marco has never more deeply felt the utter unfairness of Tobias being able to use thought-speak while human, because they’re currently standing at the front of the aisle and he can’t even respond.

But Rachel should still count this one as a win.  The gown looks stunning on Cassie, lacy and princess-ruffled while also having the kind of practical cut that allows her freedom of movement.  And, Marco notes with a smirk, freedom to wear her morphing leotard underneath; the purple spandex is just visible peeking out from underneath the white silk neckline.  He’s got morphing clothes under his own tux — never leaves home without ‘em — so really, he can’t judge.

Plus, Michelle’s got her dress and just her dress on by now, and her locs are still tucked into their silver-beaded updo.  Really, the cow birth was just a momentary inconvenience.

“Hi,” Jake whispers, when Cassie reaches him.

She grabs his hand.  Then she stuffs her bouquet into one of his jacket pockets, and grabs his other hand.  “Hi,” she whispers back.

“This is pretty exciting, huh?”

“Yep.”

Ax clears his throat delicately, and they stop talking.

“There is an Earth tradition,” Ax says to the entire assembly, “that the captain of any ship may perform a wedding ceremony at will.”

In the front row of seats, Michelle laces her fingers through Walter’s.

“Although there is no legal precedent for this custom,” Ax continues, “it is nevertheless possible to become ordained as a wedding officiant if one just completes the proper applications.”

One of Jake’s great-aunts mutters something loudly about the lack of rabbi.  Sarah leans over and kicks her in the ankle.  Rachel beams her approval.

“Therefore, I am here to make official through human custom that which has already been forged through affection and respect.”  Ax looks from Jake to Cassie and back.  “The bond between warriors who have fought and faced death together can be neither lessened nor improved upon by mere ceremony.  The honor shared between two such beings who have chosen to risk loving each other in spite of knowing the reality of loss is one that we recognize today.  We can recognize it, but not sanctify it beyond the sanctity of what these two humans have already shared.”

Rachel lets out an audible sniffle.  Marco does his best not to smirk at her.  It’s not that sappy a speech.

“I have been assured that the bond between two humans who like each other far exceeds the bond between those who merely enjoy each other’s company,” Ax says.

And now Marco has to fight the urge to bang his head against the nearest support pole.

“I have witnessed this myself.”  Ax stares around the room.  “I have witnessed compromise and forgiveness, compassion and challenge between these two.  I therefore believe it is correct and proper that this bond be formally recognized by the State of California.  Is there anything you would wish to add?” he says to Jake and Cassie.

Cassie leans up on tip-toe.  Jake bends to meet her.

She whispers her vows into his ear, not bothering to share with the rest of the gathering.  After a moment, tears on his face, he leans in and whispers back.

Recognizing his cue, Marco grabs the rings and passes them over.  They’re boring-looking, in his opinion, plain silicon bands without anything shiny.  But they’re also easy to morph, easy to shovel manure while wearing, easy to wear without catching on anything.  Very Cassie.  Very Jake.

Speaking of which, the Timberlands prove to be a good call.  When the time comes, Cassie stomps the shit out of that ceremonial glass.

**********

In a slight break with tradition, Rachel and Tobias are actually the first ones to go back down the aisle.  Then Marco wheels Collette out, followed by Tom and Melissa, then Jake and Cassie go.  That way, Rachel’s got time to sprint back over to the main tent and check on the banquet.

Most of the tables are arranged correctly, the centerpieces in place and the cards arrayed.  Rachel does a mad sprint of the room, straightening decorations and confirming with the caterers that they got all the instructions about who needs what in their diet.  Between the number of kosher eaters on Jake’s side and the number of vegetarians on Cassie’s, Rachel made the call to go all the way to a fully vegan buffet.  That’s probably going to get some of the relatives complaining about kids these days and rabbit food, but there’s no pleasing everyone.

Rachel deftly switches a few of the placecards, thereby putting Jordan on point to deal with their great-aunt and grandmother who have both already overindulged at the open bar, muttering an apology as she does.  She puts Tobias to work making sure the bows on the backs of chairs are straight, and rushes up to the long table at the front to confirm that the armless chair meant to accommodate Cassie’s bulky skirt is in the correct place.

D.J. is here, playlist at the ready.  Dance floor is clear of grass.  Weather’s holding, but tent covers are on standby.

Slightly sweaty, she rushes back out with a chair under each arm just in time to catch the guests coming across the lawn.

“Everyone except the parents, head off to the cocktail hour!” she calls.  “Jake, Cassie, moms and dads, with me.”

While Marco’s date (a photographer named Dakota) sets up the camera, Rachel goes into a flurry of motion straightening bowties, adjusting hairdos, and touching up makeup.  Steve’s got a spot of cow blood on his forehead, she discovers to her horror, and by the time she’s done scrubbing that off Jake’s managed to get his tuxedo jacket misaligned again.  Finally she steps back, breathing hard, and nods to Dakota.

Everyone smiles.  The camera goes off.

“Okay.”  Rachel claps her hands loudly, because Jake and Cassie are looking ready to stand up and go join the reception.  “That’s one down, just twenty-three to go.”

********

Rather than tossing her whole bouquet all at once, Cassie picks it apart and gives a single flower to every single guest she can find.  When the bouquet itself runs out, she disassembles her flower crown and hands that out piece by piece until everyone’s got at least one blossom.  It just seems fairer that way, she says when Rachel asks.

Several of the traditions, Rachel reflects, seem to be lost on Jake and Cassie.  They cut the first piece of cake… and immediately hand it to Ax.  And then they cut the second piece, and the third piece, and keep right on cutting slices of cake and handing them out to people until Rachel has to step in and wrest the knife away.  She’s grateful that they refrain from any of the food-fighting nonsense, since both their wedding outfits are headed to a charity auction first thing tomorrow morning, but honestly.  They’re supposed to eat the first two slices, not drop half a tier of cake into the black hole of hungry andalite.

Cake served, Marco clinks a fork against a glass.  “Ladies, gentlemen, and proletariats!”

There’s a general murmur as people look around, trying to spot who’s speaking.

With a hand from Jake, Marco climbs bodily onto the banquet table.  “Everyone!” he shouts, and now they’re all looking at him.  At him, and at the champagne flute in his hand.  “Jake and Cassie!”

It gets a polite round of applause.

“Gotta start at the beginning, right?”  Marco looks around the room, grinning.  “So there I am, some snot-nosed three-year-old, minding my own business.  And this chubby, dorky-looking little white kid comes running up to me and is like…”  He leans in.  “‘You wanna be my best friend?’”

He grins at Jake, who is flushing bright red.

“I shit you not, that was his opening line.  ‘You wanna be my best friend?’  So I’m like…”  Marco pantomimes reeling back in shock.  “I dunno man, seems like a lot of commitment to make to a total stranger.  You want explore our options first, maybe get a prenup, see if we’re compatible?  I mean, for all I know five years from now you’re gonna find some younger, hotter best friend and then there I’ll be out on my ear with nothing to show for it.”

There’s a smattering of laughter throughout the room.  Marco visibly draws strength from it.

“But you know what?”  Marco leans down to look around, smiling like he’s got a secret.  “Little dork kept right on showing up to my house and letting me use his television and getting his mom to give me fluffer nutters, and next thing I know it turns out he really is my best friend.  I think he was onto something.

“Anyway, you think that one was bad…”  He raises his eyebrows.  “Couple years later, there we are in first grade, and this girl in teeny-tiny first-grader overalls comes into the room like…”  

Marco claps one hand over the top of his champagne flute and clamps the other under the base, and actually walks a few steps down the table with the determined air of a very small and klutzy version of Cassie.

“And her opening line is…”  Marco raises the flute to his mouth like it’s a microphone, dropping his voice.  “‘You wanna see my moth?’”

Again, there’s a smattering of laughter.  Cassie has a hand over her mouth, halfway doubled over in giggles at the memory.

“Now, us being minuscule and all, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure that there was no double entendre going on here,” Marco says.  “And I have to admit, no one has used that line on me since.  So I say ‘sure,’ because I’m like six years old and this seems like a reasonable question.  She lifts her hand up…”

Marco accompanies this with a pantomime of peering through his own fingers into his champagne.

He looks up.  “And it’s not even a freaking moth!” he cries out.  “Turns out, it’s just some little worm thing.  So I tell her.”  He puts on a snotty voice, mocking his younger self.  “‘That’s not a moth, that’s just some little worm thing.’”

There’s a pause.  Marco glances around the room.  “See if you can tell where this story’s going.”

Marco and Cassie glance at each other.  Cassie’s grinning smugly.

“She puts it in the classroom’s terrarium,” Marco drawls.  “It turns into a rock.  Two weeks later, rock cracks open and out pops a moth.”

The room cracks up again.

“So fast forward another few years, and she’s standing there holding this eight-eyed, venom-fanged thing.  And she’s all like ‘just touch the spider, Marco.  Don’t you want to be a spider, Marco?  Isn’t it cute and fuzzy?’  As if she is completely unaware that she’s holding a giant-ass eight-legged freak.”  Marco takes a sip for strength.  “And right then, I look at Jake.  And I’m thinking Jake, don’t ever let this girl go.  Because if she doesn’t even think wolf spiders are ugly, then she’s got no idea about you.  So here’s to Jake and Cassie.  Made for each other, because no one else will have ‘em.”

Jake pokes Marco in the ankle, but he’s laughing as he does it.

“All right,” Marco says, “brace yourselves, and someone get some more tissues for my second mama, because I’m about to get sappy.  I love you, Jean!” he calls.  “I know we all gotta cry it out sometimes.��

She laughs and flaps a dismissive hand at him, but she’s also misty-eyed already.

“Dudes, I gotta be honest.”  Marco is looking at Jake and Cassie.  “I didn’t think we’d get here.  I honestly did not believe, for a good long while there, that there were gonna be any weddings or graduations or driver’s licenses in any of our futures.  Just seemed like a good idea not to bet on any of us having any futures, you know?  Seemed like it might be the surest option.”

Cassie laces her fingers through Jake’s.  Silently, her mouth pressed into a line, she nods.

“So, uh.”  Marco sniffs, spinning back around and thrusting his champagne flute into the air.  “Here’s to me being wrong, yeah?”

“To Marco being wrong!” Jake echoes, and tosses back his glass.

“To Marco being wrong!” the entire room calls back.

Marco jumps back down, Cassie and Jake catching him as he lands.

**********

After everyone but Menderash and Ax has finished eating, it’s Tom who becomes the next one to tink a fork against a glass for attention.

“In the spirit of full disclosure,” he tells the room, strolling slowly toward the head table.  “I promised my brother there wouldn’t be a horah.”  Tom stops, directly next to Cassie.  “But what he didn’t know is that I’d already made a promise to my new sister-in-law that there would be.  So what’s a guy to do?”

He snaps his fingers.

At this cue, several things happen at once.  The DJ switches to “Hava Nagila.”  Several people mob Jake at once.  Tom grabs Cassie and lifts her bodily over his head, carrying her chair and all to the middle of the dance floor.

With a squeak of laughter, Cassie grabs the top of Tom’s head for balance.  Jake is being hauled out next to her on a chair of his own, supported by Tobias and Menderash and Rachel and James.  Marco and Ax are herding the rest of the gathering, shoving people into a circle and linking arms together as they go.

“I hate you!” Jake calls over the sound of the music and his own fit of giggles.

“Gotta keep the in-laws happy!” Tom yells back, unrepentant.

*********

“You sure you’ve got everything you need?” Rachel asks.

Cheyenne, the head caterer, gives her a double thumbs-up.  The staff are tipped and most are ready to go, having divvied up the several extra schaeffers’ worth of falafel and butternut squash puree and other entrees that Rachel’d set aside for them.  Melissa is set to take over tending bar from here, as planned, and she’s going to keep the groomsmen after for a few minutes for cleanup duty.

“Okay.”  Rachel glances around at where the last of the countertops are getting a quick once-over with disinfectant.  “Okay.  If anything comes up…”

“I have your number.”  Cheyenne smiles and nods.

Pushing back out of the room, Rachel heads for the gift table.  Everything looks like it’s in good order, but she wants to make sure it all gets packed up properly and that none of the cards get lost in the kerfuffle.  It’s mostly donation receipts, at Jake and Cassie’s request, but some of the traditionalists on both sides came with soup tureens or the like —

“Hey.”  Jake catches her by the arm.

Rachel turns to look at him.  “What’s wrong?  Is it the great-aunts?”

“Nothing’s wrong.  It’s all perfect.”  He’s smiling shyly.  “Thanks.”

“I need to check on the gifts,” Rachel says, because she’s a coward who doesn’t know how to do mushy conversations, especially not with Jake.

“The gifts are fine,” he says.  “It’s all fine.  Because you made it that way.  So… thanks.”

When he pulls her into a hug, Rachel can’t resist straightening his hair one last time even as she returns the embrace.  “You realize I do this for fun, right?” she asks, holding him at arm’s length and looking him in the eye.  “Like, I could’ve hired a wedding planner, but honestly why bother?”

He shrugs.  “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate everything.  All of it.  Without you, Cassie and I wouldn’t even…”

Then, because this is all getting too honest, Rachel links her arm through his and drags him onto the dance floor for, he’s about to realize, their middle school gym class’s favorite godawful square dance.

*********

When she has do-si-doed Jake within an inch of his life, Rachel tosses him at Cassie.  She pivots around and gives Tobias a flourishing courtesy; he returns it with an equally ridiculous bow.

“It is marvelous, how well they have adapted their balance to compensate for their lack of legs,” Menderash comments to Ax.

“Very true.”  Ax leans next to him against the bar.  They are currently sharing a delicious beverage Melissa has made for them, simply by unscrewing the lid from a nearly-empty jar of olives and handing over the remaining liquid.

It is true, some of the dancers are more talented than others.  Michelle and Walter are synchronized with each other and the beat of the music, even if their choice of moves is not nearly as audacious as the spinning thing Marco and Dakota are doing.  The bride and groom, meanwhile, are looking at their own feet and keep bumping into each other as they move.  Between their relative unconcern with anyone but each other and the broad hem of Cassie’s dress, the other couples are giving them a wide berth.

“Do you wish to attempt such feats?” Ax asks, glancing at Menderash.

Menderash gives a full-body shudder.  He flaps one hand in an andalite gesture that, if translated to English, would approximate fuck that.

Ax grins, drinking more olive juice.

“Have you done such a thing?” Menderash asks.

“Never for very long,” Ax says.

Jake and Cassie have given up on dancing entirely, descending into a giggle fit in the middle of the dance floor as they both attempt to disentangle Jake’s cuff link from the lace of Cassie’s hem.  Rachel swirls by, briefly blocking their view.  She’s switched partners.  Dakota is doing their best to teach Tobias how to waltz while Marco and Rachel are now swing-dancing their way across the dance floor.

As both andalites watch in awe, Rachel spins Marco in a circle, swinging him out and then drawing him back close to her body.  Marco pirouettes, throwing his head back so that his hair flares around his face, and then throws himself backwards.  Rachel catches him neatly around the waist, dipping him nearly to the floor.  Marco braces on her shoulders and she flings him upward with her whole body so that she actually lifts him off the floor for a second before gracefully sweeping him back down.  They separate until just the tips of their fingers are touching, and then spin back together until Marco suddenly swoops under Rachel’s arm, coming up on the far side as she pivots around in time fro him to fall back against her.

Ax is reminded of the way they fight.  There’s something almost joyful in their ferocity on the battlefield.  There’s something almost frightening in their enthusiasm on the dancefloor.  Neither of them seems to know how to do anything by half measure.

One by one the other clusters of dancers have stopped to watch as well.  Jake and Cassie, now sitting hopelessly tangled up in each other, seem quite happy to have the spotlight stolen.

Rachel swoops an arm around Marco’s waist and slides into a back-and-forth tango step.  Within two beats he’s caught on, falling into the same rhythm as her.  When the tempo of the song changes he grabs her shoulder and nudges her into a circular waltz.  They’re unrehearsed, and inexpert, but moving with such force and communicating so rapidly that it doesn’t really matter.

“Yes,” Menderash says softly, “I very much do not wish to attempt to dance.”

Ax smiles at him over the rim of the olive jar.  It’s empty, and in the time it takes him to set it back on the bar and catch her eye, Melissa has replaced it with maraschino cherry liquid.

The song crescendos; Marco leans his full weight back as Rachel flings him into a long spiraling turn that ends with him sliding on his knees clear between her legs, popping up behind her just in time to brace as she tips backward into him.  She spins once, twice, four times, then swings him into a dip so low that his hair brushes the floor.

As the song ends they freeze like that, chests heaving, hair damp with sweat.

They both seem to become aware at once that the whole room’s watching them.  Marco opens his mouth to say something, when Rachel’s smile turns wicked.  That’s the only warning he gets before she opens her arms and lets him drop.  Marco squawks indignantly, throwing out both elbows to catch himself.  He gets ahold of Rachel’s arm and tries to yank her down as well, but ends up pulling himself to his feet as well.

The whole room breaks out into clapping.  Marco sweeps into a low bow.  Rachel visibly considers pushing him over again before deciding against it.  Instead she runs to try and rescue Cassie’s hand-sewn lace hem and Jake’s antique silver cufflinks from their respective owners’ incompetence.

*********

“Hey Tobias?” Rachel says around a yawn.

«Uh-huh?»

Idly they watch as Tom waltzes Cassie’s grandmother around the dance floor.  She’s 4’11” to his 6’4”, so it’s pretty hilarious to witness.  But at least they’re not totally mismatched: each has a single sprig of valerian from Cassie’s bouquet tucked behind one ear.

She and Tobias are sitting on the ground at one corner of the dance floor.  Rachel’s got her shoes off to massage her aching ankles, and Tobias is perched back on her shoulder.  With clever motions of his beak he’s fishing the pins out of her hair one by one, dropping them into her hand as he slowly disassembles her updo.

“How do you feel about never, ever getting married?” Rachel asks.

Tobias drops another bobby pin into her hand.  «Best idea you’ve had all year.»

[anotheronechicagobog]

Ethan Choi x reader I Love and Lies

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

A/N: Swearing, cheating, jealousy, mention of sex, pregnancy, depression

A/N 2:  Requested by @raveenasblog​ Sorry this took so long, I haven’t been super motivated to write long works for a while.

You sighed as you collapsed back into your chair, the force causing you to wheel backwards into your desk. “Ow, fuck.” You collected yourself before someone from the team saw, they’d never let you live it down. Just in time too, as Hailey burst through your door. “Y/L/N, we need you to run some financials and internet history on a suspect, David Johnson, male, 42, DOB 20th of September 1978.”

“Got it.”

“You okay? You seem down.”

“No, but it’s kind of personal. And not my personal, someone else’s personal. Long story.”

“Oh, well I hope it works out. And if you want to get your mind off it we can go out with Kim for deep dish.”

“Thanks.”

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After Crockett Marcel joined the staff at Gaffney medical centre you not only befriended him quickly, but you had also been trusted with a secret you couldn’t keep. April Sexton cheated on Ethan Choi with Crockett Marcel. Ethan was a tad older than you and a serious navy vet, so you didn’t have a lot to bond on at first. It was when you’d run into each other at your favourite Italian restaurant after you’d both been on god-awful blind dates that your friendship started to bloom. The restaurant had been packed and there wasn’t room for both of you to have a table to yourself. Even though you didn’t know each other well, it seemed like the best question. It became a tradition for you two to meet up after blind dates or setups and decompress. It helped deal with the fact that neither of you had friends good at match-making. 

When you’d caught April at that party your heart broke for one of your best friends. You didn’t know what to do. Ethan was in love with April, above all else, and he wanted to marry her. He’d asked for your and Maggie’s help with ring shopping. You knew that things were a little tense between them, but you’d always thought so highly of April, you never thought that she would do something like this. And to make things more difficult, you were under a bit of a time crunch. You had to tell him soon or he’d be upset that you’d kept it from him. And he had been deployed for two months with no contact. He was coming back in a couple of days and you weren’t sure how to break it to him. You knew that it would be best if April was the one who told him, but she’d told you outright days after it happened that Ethan didn’t need to know. But she was wrong and you knew it.

Ethan deserved to know that the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and have children with ‘accidentally’ kissed someone else. It broke your heart but you had to tell him when he got back.

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

He’d been back for three days and still hadn’t seen you. Citing ‘April this’ and ‘April that’. And while you could understand one day, three was suspicious, and you knew that April was trying to keep him away from you. You were furious, how dare she cheat on him and then try to cover it up. 

You’d dropped by med later that day when you texted Ethan and he actually said yes. Apparently April had to work a double so he was free from her clutches. When you arrived at the entrance in your car to pick him up it was quite clear that she was trying to stop him, visibly panicking and grabbing onto him. 

“Ethan are you ready to go?”

“NO! He- He’s not going. He... Is going to work another shift. Or go home. Just... He is NOT going anywhere with you!”

“Why not, April?”

“Because... Because she... She’s in love with you!”

“What?”

“You think I’m what?”

“Yes! She told me at Crockett and Maggie’s party after you left! She said that she was going to try to come between us!”

“I did not say that. I saw April kissing the new doctor, Crockett Marcel, at the party he and Maggie threw. I tried talking to her about it, but she said that she and Marcel didn’t think you needed to know.”

“I can’t believe you Y/N.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard him Y/N.”

“I didn’t say any of that. I don’t love you, Ethan, not romantically at least, she is lying. I know that this is a she said, she said situation. We’ve been so close for so long, I wouldn’t do anything to cause you unnecessary hurt or drama. You have to know that.”

“She accepted my proposal, Y/N, and she’s been trying to warn me for days. I didn’t listen to her because we’ve been friends for so long, but you coming at her with an outright lie just proves she’s right. I can’t believe you would do this.”

“But I didn’t.”

“I don’t believe you. I... I am going to go home, and I think you should stay away from us Y/N.” He stepped beside April, slinging his arm around her waist and staring you down in that cold, navy, disapproving way. It physically hurt your heart and you could feel yourself gasping for breath. 

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You don’t really remember driving to your apartment, but you do remember Ethan not leaving April’s side until you were in your car and driving away. Your body shuddered and convulsed as you tried to muffle your own cries. Ethan had spent weeks searching for the perfect ring, smiled dreamily at the thought of having children with her. It ripped you to pieces that April threw it all away and that Ethan didn’t believe you. After all the years you’d been friends, all the time spent together, and he didn’t trust you. He didn’t hear the wavering and panic in April’s voice, the floundering in her normally collected sentences, and the visible queues that showed she was grasping at straws. 

Three heavy knocks later and Hailey was picking your door lock. You really need to give her a key.  “Y/N how are you? I heard what happened.”

“Seriously? Everyone knows already? I knew that everyone would hear about some variation of what happened, but it hasn’t even been an hour!... Does everyone know?”

“Yes. I heard about it from Mouch when he dropped some lunch off for Platt.”

“Oh my god... Do you believe me?” You must have looked so pathetic, like Bambi asking for his mother. “Yes. I know how much his friendship means to you. And I know that you aren’t in love with him.”

“I’ll take the deep dish pizza now if you don’t mind.”

“Kim’s bringing it. And red velvet cake.”

“You guys are the best.”

“We know, now where did you put the tequila you got from Mexico?”

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Molly’s had become your favourite pub since you first got the job of ‘thank the heavens that Ruzek doesn’t have to do tech stuff anymore’ in intelligence. The drinks were good, the food was good, and the staff was always friendly. Since your confrontation with Ethan and April, you’d avoided going. Any time you’d seen Sylvie and Emily at spin class they shot you awkward glances and actually asked you what you thought about the weather. While they’d stumbled through an explanation that they weren’t taking sides you just wished a hole would open up underneath you. You stuck close to Kim after that. Med as a whole was a mess of hatred and anger towards you. Apparently Doris had even gathered some nurses together to refuse to treat you if you ever came in. And they were always making snappy comments to the rest of the intelligence unit whenever they had to be there, and Jay got into a fight with Ethan. You’d apologized profusely to your team but they would hear none of it, they believed you.

It had been three months and you were feeling so lonely and depressed. You’d lost over half of your friends in one day, you were isolated and exhausted. You worked long hours and had no one to decompress with, Trudy was still setting you up on terrible blind dates, and while you’d been eating there by yourself since Ethan and April started dating, being alone and feeling alone were two different things. Now you were in a rut. Just floating through existence. And you didn’t hate it. You didn’t feel anything actually, and while it didn’t scare you, it did scare your remaining friends.

You would see a therapist, but because American medical coverage is so screwed up your insurance only approves doctors from MED unless it’s an emergency and MED isn’t the closest hospital. So despite the fact that all your co-workers were on edge worrying about your mental health and how it affects the rest of your well-being, they couldn’t pressure or push you into getting help because there were some doctors and nurses who had outright said they wouldn’t help you. No matter how scared they got or how tempting jumping off a building sounded to you. 

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

Someone was banging at your door. At three in the morning. If this had happened four months ago you’d be grabbing your bat. Now, you were too tired to give a fuck. The knocking was staggered, in rhythm and noise level. So whoever was on the other side of that door was probably drunk out of their mind. You went a little out of your mind when you saw the man standing in front of you. The man you’d gone out of your way two avoid since his and Maggie’s party. Crockett Marcel. Red eyes, puffy cheeks, slurring nonsense and all.

“I-- M, *hic* sww. I srry. Sorry. Kigg.”

“Why don’t you come in?” You helped an incredibly inebriated Crockett Marcel to your couch. “I sy- swww-”

“Go to sleep doc, you need it.” You moved a garbage can next to the couch and put a blanket over him. One of your best ones, soft and fluffy. One tall glass of water and a couple of Tylenol were placed on the side table near his head before you went back to bed. This’ll be fun to talk about in the morning. 

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The morning arrived with the smell of drunken sweat in your living room. Your late-night visitor was on the precipice of waking up, rolling around and fidgeting, trying to get comfy. Though you suspected the hangover was hindering that. You sighed, deciding that you’d wake him up after you finished the pancakes. Sizzling butter and batter wafted into your nose as you carefully placed chocolate chips in the image of a smiley face, hoping that would at least stave off the awkwardness. Crockett kept swearing in French and moved to cover his eyes with a pillow. You laughed as you flipped the last pancakes onto one main plate. Walking over to your guest you pondered how to wake him up. Screaming in his ear? No, too cruel. Pulling away the pillow? Still too mean. Telling him you’ll eat all the pancakes if he doesn’t get up? Perfect. “Marcel, if you’re not up soon, I’m gonna eat all the pancakes I made. And you can’t get mad at me for it.” You sauntered away with a smile on your face, silently hoping that he wouldn’t wake up so you could have all those pancakes to yourself. Soft and buttery, slathered with Canadian maple syrup.

Unfortunately, that was all it took for him to get up. Groaning and moving sluggishly, he made his way to your kitchen island and sat on the other side of the corner. “Thank you. I’m sorry about last night, I just... I feel really bad.”

“About what in particular?”

“Kissing a woman who was already in a relationship, not saying anything about it to the rest of the hospital, causing you a lot of trouble, and... Falling in love with the woman who’s life I ruined.” You froze mid-chew. His troubled eyes were boring into you. “Me?” While your question was muffled by the combination of pancake, syrup, and butter it got across. “Yeah,” he chuckled and smiled softly at you before tensing, “don’t worry, I know you don’t love me. How could you after what I did? Plus you’re in love with Choi-”

“No I’m not. That’s just something April said to cover up what happened.”

“Do you really not see it or are you just denying it?”

“I’m not denying anything, Ethan is- was. Was one of my best friends. And I miss him.”

“Miss him how?”

“He has such a calming energy, like the eye in the storm. Yes, you know it’s gonna get crazy again, but you appreciate the peace it brings you. Even if it’s only for a few moments. He was always so serious, which I like cause I’m serious too. The only jokes he knows how to make are puns, everyone else hates them but I love them. Ethan... He makes me smile, my life hasn’t been the same since he left it. It’s... duller without him. My heart physically aches most times.”

The realization was sudden and terrifying.

“Oh my gods...”

“There it is.”

“I am in love with Ethan.”

“Finally.”

“I am a horrible person.”

“Wait, what? How do you figure that out?”

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

The week following your revelation was hard. You felt terrible, despite Crockett’s assurances, you worried that you insisted on telling Ethan the truth because of your feelings. While your head knew that wasn’t true, that you were happy to see Ethan happy, your heart worried. You didn’t know what to think of yourself if you had subconsciously ruined your best friend’s relationship.

Intelligence had also caught a hard case. Cases involving kids rarely ended well and since this one involved a child trafficking ring and identifying all of the perpetrators and victims, your days had been filled with the screams and cries of abused, exploited and tortured children. You felt like your soul needed to be deep cleansed. You’d found all the children and identified two hundred and thirty-three children so far, another eighty-seven to go. Everyone, including Voight, had been much gentler around you. Normally he hated going down to your office because you’d decorated it with colour, things that make you happy, and just generally didn’t look like the office of the tech expert of Chicago’s most elite law enforcement team, but he’d been coming down to check on you and drag you upstairs for food and water. It had been a nice reminder that you weren’t completely alone, and that not all of the world was built with evil and fear. 

“Y/L/N, we got ‘em. And SVU ID’d the rest of the kids. Families have been called. You should go home, get some sleep. And the meticulous notes you keep qualify as a report, so you’re done. Don’t argue. And eat a vegetable.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Yes, dad.”

“Don’t use that tone with me young lady.” A smirk briefly played on his lips. You laughed, grateful for the position he had in your life, and walked up to the bullpen with him. When you reached the top of the stairs you were greeted by chaos. And not the usual chaos. Jay looked like he wanted to punch a hole in a wall, Hailey was being held back by Adam and Kevin as she cursed and tried to claw at whatever was in front of her, Rojas and Kim were debating the pros and cons of using a police baton, Trudy was pinching her nose and looking like she was restraining herself from shooting everyone, and the SVU agents looked confused and a little afraid honestly. “What’s going on here?” Everyone parted like the red sea for their boss to reveal Ethan Choi. “You have got a lot of nerve to show up here.”

“I’m just here to talk to Y/N. To... Apologize.” You could tell by his sunken features, red eyes, and bloody knuckles that he knew. He knew that you told the truth. Pain danced around like a musical behind his eyes. No matter how empty he had left your life you never wanted him to feel the way he clearly did. However, you weren’t in any mood to deal with this. “Guys, let go of him, you’re scaring our guests. Ethan, can we talk tomorrow? It’s been a long day and I’m really tired.” You didn’t even wait for a response, just walked out from behind Voight and right past everyone, only stopping to say goodnight to Trudy on your way out.

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

The next morning you woke up... Warm. It was the first time you’d felt something other than emptiness since the whole debacle began. Your apartment smelled good, like fried butter. You quirked your eyebrow, hearing sizzling coming from the direction of your kitchen. You doubted a criminal would break in just to cook breakfast and only three people had a key to your place. Hailey, Ethan, and Voight, given to them in that order. Hailey only really knew how to cook greek food, Voight never used it unless it was an emergency, and despite all that had gone between you two, Ethan never gave his copy back. Leaving your aluminum hello kitty baseball bat by your bed you make your way to the kitchen. Ethan stood in a Navy t-shirt and jeans in front of your stove. Three pans in front of him, one with scrambled eggs, hash browns, and pancakes. “Morning Ethan.” His head slowly turned to meet yours. “Good morning Y/N... Uh, it is tomorrow...”

“It is. What’s for breakfast?”

A slight smile picked up, some weight lifting off his shoulders. “My specialty. You up for it?”

“Always. Uh, Crockett told me. I’m sorry, I want you to know that I did believe you, I just-”

“‘Didn’t want to.”

“Yeah. I’m also sorry about the treatment you received from everyone, really. I told April not to involve anyone else, but she started screaming it from the rooftops the second she could. I know that there were people who didn’t want to take sides but they ended up doing so anyway. I’m sorry about that too. I’ve heard a lot, I know how isolated you became, so I know that it will be hard to forgive me. If there’s anything you want, anything I can do, please tell me. I’m sorry.”

“Did you make enough breakfast for both of us?”

“Of course.” Smiles were met with smiles as Ethan placed all of the hot food on serving plates.

“So now that you know, what’s happening with you and...”

“I broke up with April. I’ve known for a couple of weeks actually, I just... I tried to work it out with her, tried to move past it, but I couldn’t. It was too much, I was too betrayed. Not only did she cheat on me with a man who had just moved to this region of the country, she lied about it, and did everything she could to frame and torture you for what she did. I just woke up one day and I knew I was done. We’d been trying to have a baby but when I stopped focusing solely on having a baby I realized that I didn’t want that with her. She clearly doesn’t love me if she was able to do what she did, and not only would a baby not be able to fix our relationship, but it would be cruel to drag a child into that.”

“I never wanted to hurt you, Ethan, I just thought that you deserved to know, and I’m so sorry about the pain that this situation has dolled on you.”

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

Two months had passed and you were re-adjusting to having all of your friends back. From most you’d received an apology and a drink at Molly’s (that had not been a fun hangover), from Sylvie and Nat you had been given homemade cookies in lieu of alcohol, but for the most part laughter and a hug was more than enough. There were few though who didn’t apologize to you and glared at you with hate-filled eyes. You had expected April to be doing that, but most of the nurses were sticking to their guns with her. It didn’t matter that Crockett had come forward, or that she’d admitted it had happened and that she’d lied about you, or that you weren’t the only person who saw that kiss as it turned out, they held you responsible for April’s reputation taking a hit and Chexton’s break up. You had a hard time caring, though. April made a mistake and no matter how much she lied or tried to hide it, it still came out. It wasn’t your fault that she cheated on Ethan, or that she had actively made everything worse.

Ethan and you had been making up for lost time, going to the zoo and aquarium, binging Grand Tour on Amazon Prime, and eating at your favourite Italian restaurant. It felt good to get back into your rhythm, having an unofficial schedule to organize your time together. Today Ethan was waiting for you to pick him up from work so that you both could go see the new baby otter at the aquarium. You had pulled up in front of Gaffney and texted him saying that you were outside and waiting. Just after you’d clicked send there was a knock on the window beside you. You jumped, whipping your head around to see April staring at you with her arms crossed and her chest heaving. Steeling yourself, you exited your car. “Hi April.”

“Really? That’s all you can say? You ruined my life and all you can say is hi?”

“April, I’m sorry for how hard everything must be for you right now, but I didn’t ruin anything. That was all you.”

“If you had just left it alone everything would be fine!”

“April-”

“NO! If you hadn’t insisted on telling him I wouldn’t have worked so hard to make everyone hate you, everything would have been fine. But you just had to go and destroy everything!” April started to cry, tears flowing down her cheeks as she hiccuped and wrapped her arms around herself. You couldn’t bring yourself to be angry, your lives were always filled with drama and pain, and sometimes you felt like you lived in a procedural soap drama, so you couldn’t blame her for holding onto her happiness for dear life. You sighed and reached for her, “come here.”

The two of you stood like that for several minutes until Ethan approached you both with his eyebrows raised. “April.”

“Ethan! You have to know that I never wanted to hurt you, never wanted you to find out!”

“... That’s terrible, April. Look, I’m done. We’re done. Please, just let go.”

“No, I can’t! I love you!”

“No, you don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t have kissed someone else, or lied about it, or tried to silence and then blame Y/N. What we had, it wasn’t love. We loved each other once, but not in a long time.”

“Ethan-”

“Y/N and I have plans, April.” April shoved you off of her and rocketed away from you violently, sprinting to the ED as fast as she can.

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You were on a date. Sort of. It had been a year and a few months, close to two years, since Ethan and April split and everyone knew the truth. Hailey, Kim, and Vanessa were constantly on you about dating, setting you up onblind dates, signing you up for dating apps, and introducing you to random guys they happen to meet who are single and cute. Ethan quietly asked why you didn’t just date someone to get them to stop. Crockett (who, much to Ethan’s dismay, you’d become good friends with) laughed and offered his services as your boyfriend with a wink. He meant it as a joke. It was a joke. But now, as you were standing by his side in a gown with his arm around your waist, you wondered if he actually was joking, or if he was flirting and you just didn’t pick up on it. When the fancy schmancy business guys left Crockett turned to you with a weary smile. “Thanks, again for coming with me. Goodwin would’ve had my head if I came alone.”

“Well, hey, like you said, this’ll get the girls off my back.”

“I have to admit, I did have an ulterior motive for asking you- don’t panic, I’m not going to profess my love for you or anything. I’ve moved on from you actually. The ulterior motive was to make Choi jealous.”

“What?”

“Look, you love him, and he loves you. I can see it, and so can everyone else. However, it has become apparent that neither of you plan to do anything about it. It has also become apparent that Ethan does not like it when I... do anything that involves you being near me honestly. Least of all that we’re actually friends. He gets jealous, very easily. I was hoping that you being my date for the evening would make him do something about it. Plus, you’re gorgeous and intelligent, the perfect companion for another dull gala.”

“Crockett, he doesn’t-”

“He does. Even April sees it.”

“Crockett-”

“Ah! Dr. Marcel, there you are. I have been looking for you, I want to discuss the hybrid OR project you’re working on with Dr. Rhodes.”

“Of course. This is my date for the evening, Y/N Y/L/N, she is a senior investigative digital analyst with the Chicago Police department.”

“A pleasure.” 

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All in all, you’d had fun at the gala. The booze was free, so was the delicious food, and while you didn’t like dressing to the nines all the time, it was fun to do for one night. The gala had been held at one of the fancier, older, expensive hotels on the waterfront so you and Crockett snapped some amazing pictures. Ethan didn’t do a lot on social media, it just wasn’t his thing, but he texted you seconds from when the first photo was posted to tell you that you looked stunning. You were a bit disappointed, hoping that Crockett had been telling the truth when he said that Ethan loves you. You sighed and shook your head before exiting your office to grab a snack from the breakroom. You didn’t have a case so it had just been a paperwork day, Hailey held up her mug for you to grab as you walked past her desk to the breakroom. You grabbed a bag of chips for yourself and had just finished Hailey’s coffee when your phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey girl, look I’d love to chat but this is a business call.”

“Oh?”

“Ethan and Crockett got into a screaming match outside of the ED, Ethan got so angry and went to storm off but he turned around and ran into a concrete pillar.”

“Oh my god.”

“He’s fine, got a few scrapes, but he seems really out of it, we don’t think he should be driving. You’re his emergency contact, can you come get him?”

“Yeah, I’ll just let Voight know, I’ll be there soon.”

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Maggie met your eyes and pointed to a room that had the curtains closed. You darted in, finding an annoyed looking Ethan lying on the bed with his arms crossed. There were a couple of light scrapes but no other visible injuries. You’d gotten him back to your apartment easily enough but he was completely silent. “Hey-”

“Do you love him?”

“What?”

“Do you love Crockett?”

“No! He’s a great friend but he’s not my type.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Where is all this coming from? And why did you get into an argument with Crockett?”

“I, I have been going out of my mind since I found out that you were going with Crockett to that fundraising gala. I can’t lose you! And especially not to him.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Ethan. Goodwin told him he had to bring a date and he knew that the girls were breathing down my neck. It wasn’t a big deal, okay? Ethan why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I love you. So much.” You didn’t respond with words, just latched your lips onto his. The rest of the night was filled with nudity, moans, groans, ecstacy, and whispers of love and promise.

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Two months later you were being dragged into the ED by a worried Ethan. Before started dating him you’d been friends with him long enough to know that just going along with whatever he needs to feel better is the best option.

“Nat, something’s wrong with Y/N.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s been throwing up at all times of day for the past week, can’t hold down food, and she fainted this morning.”

“Alright, let’s get you in a room. Maggie?”

“Treatment four.”

Once you were in bed and had blood drawn you took Ethan’s hand. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

“Worrying about you is my job as your boyfriend.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I have news. Good news.”

You and Ethan looked at each other as you clasped your hands together and sat up straighter. “You’re pregnant. Eight weeks along by the looks of it. Congrats guys, you’re going to be parents.”

Ethan sprung up and started kissing you all over your face. You had never been this happy in your life. Suddenly he stopped. “Are you okay with this? Being pregnant? I don’t want you to feel pressured-” You grabbed his collar and pulled his face to yours. Kissing him deeply, and lovingly. “Ethan, I am so happy. I have always wanted to be a mother, and now I have the chance. With the man I love. This is the best day of my life.”

“Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Yes, but I’d be overjoyed to hear it again. And again, for the rest of our lives.

[ursa-mediocre]

My dog died today, and it fucking sucks.

She’d had symptoms of a collapsing trachea for a while, mainly a weird cough when she got excited or if pressure was put on her neck. Around March she was due for a dental cleaning where they intubated her and I asked the vet if that’d be an issue but they didn’t seem worried about it so I went ahead with it. Afterwards she had a different sort of cough for a long enough time that I contacted the vet again and they said it was most likely irritation from being intubated that should clear up. I did make her an appointment when I called but it was for a couple weeks out and in between then the cough did get better to the point I considered cancelling it.

A week before her appointment she had what turned out to be an arthritis flair up and I took her to the Emergency Vet and so decided to keep the appointment at her vet. At the appointment the vet was more worried about the cough while I was more worried about the arthritis since the cough was sorta back to pre-intubation frequency. He prescribed a tapering course of prednisone which seemed to help both issues a lot but there wasn’t any discussion of follow up after the course was over. But during and a couple weeks after she was fine so I wasn’t too worried about it.

Then a few weeks ago she started coughing again, and it was sort of up and down. I wanted to wait and see if it’d improve when the weather did, because at this point I was feeling like every time I went to the vet freaked out about something I left feeling silly. Tuesday I finally made her an appointment, but they were booking out a month so it wasn’t until August 17th.

Today my family is having a memorial service for my uncle who died a few months ago, because his family wanted to bury him here but lived on the west coast. After the service the plan was to have people over our house, so we’ve also been preparing for that and have had people over the last two nights (she got lots of affection from my cousin’s kids which was nice).

Last night she was coughing really bad. I could hear her pacing in the hall, going back and forth between my parents’ room and my room. I’ve been giving her honey to try and help sooth her throat, and tried to get her to calm down, but it seemed like she couldn’t lay down without immediately having to stand up and cough.

Around 4 AM I took her to the emergency vet. I thought they’d just have to give her some sedatives or cough suppressants and maybe a prescription for steroids or anti-inflammatories. They put her on supplemental oxygen and said she’d probably have to stay the day to stabilize and then they’d take chest X-rays to see what was up and let me know.

So I got home around 5:30 and tried to sleep, and they called me around 2 hours later to tell me that she was still having trouble breathing, and they weren’t able to take X-rays yet but had done an ultrasound and found fluid in her lungs and asked me for permission to intubate and do CPR if necessary, which I’ve been asked about for other procedures so I consented not thinking they’d actually have to.

Then they called again an hour later and said that they had intubated her, lost her heartbeat, were performing CPR, and asked how quickly I could get there.

My mom drove me and when I got there they had gotten her heartbeat back but she wasn’t aware of anything. They took me to see her, and said that they weren’t sure if the fluid was from congestive heart failure, a blood clot, pneumonia, or irritation from the collapsing trachea, but that she’d probably need to go on a ventilator for any further treatment. We opted to try to get chest X-rays before deciding because she said that heart failure could possibly be treated. But when they went to do that they lost her heartbeat again so I had make the decision to let her go.

It was kind of funny when we got back to the room she was in because this tiny dog was surrounded by like a dozen women (one was standing on a chair?) and they had just gotten her heartbeat back again. But the vet had them unhook her from everything and took us to a room to sit with her. I held her wrapped up in a blanket like a baby. I couldn’t help but think that my own mother there with me had lost an actual baby and how unbearable that seems when my heart’s this broken over a dog.

I don’t know how long she was actually still alive while we sat there. There were a couple tiny coughs and noises when they first handed her to me but I don’t remember feeling her try to breath at all (she had had to be intubated after all, so she probably couldn’t). I told her I was sorry, because I was. I wish I had been a better medical advocate for her with her own vet, because not being able to go into the room with her through covid during appointments made it really difficult to know if they were seeing what I was seeing with her. I wish I had taken her in sooner. I wish I had known at 4:30, when she climbed into my lap as we pulled into the parking lot, that I should have said a proper goodbye then rather than immediately hand her over to the vet tech that came for her. I wish I had spent every moment I could have with her, giving her non stop attention. I told her that I loved her. I told her she was the best dog. The best Lola she could be.

I had to remember to call her previous owner, a girl that’s a few years younger than me. We had had visits every so often after I got Lola, but hadn’t in over a year because of covid. She texted me a few months ago saying that if it were possible she wanted to be with Lola when her time came. Part of the reason I wanted the X-rays was to get even a day or two so we could do proper goodbyes. But I had her talk on the phone with her instead, even though I knew she wasn’t really with us anymore.

I told her my plan was to have her cremated so she could have some of the ashes. We went over that with one of the vet techs, who helped set it up with a facility they partner with. She offered to take a paw print and I had had her make it with her paw that was missing a toe because that was uniquely Lola.

Lola hated people touching her paws. She never would’ve sat still in my lap for so long. She hated getting wet, she wouldn’t go for walks in the rain, and the top of her head was soaked in snot and tears. In her younger days if she caught me crying she’d try to lick up all my snot and get up my nose because she loved the taste of boogers. Her tongue was sticking out the whole time and turning blue before I finally stuck it back in her mouth.

I didn’t want to stop petting her. Her fur was so soft. Her little ears were so perfect and round from her last haircut. I don’t want to pet my dad’s dog because it feels like a betrayal. They walked her to the door with us, but wrapped her back up kind of clumsily so her back legs and tail flopped out and up like how she used to sleep when she was younger and it was hot. I used to grab them and call them her ‘lil chicken legs’.

I don’t want to think about where she is right now. Everyone there was very kind and respectful, I know the practicalities of body storage. I don’t actually want her to be cremated, but I also don’t want to bury her. I just want her to be here, I want to touch her fur and see her dumb foxy face. But I’m not about to fucking taxidermy my dog.

So now it’s about 2:30. My dog has been dead at least 5 hours. I hate it so far.

My dad and older brother were waiting outside when we got home. I put her paw print in the fridge until we can bake it. I went into the living room and saw her bed on the floor and had to go back outside for a minute. I poured out the water bowl I kept in my room for her. My family left for the memorial service, I tried to sleep more. Around 1:30 I got up and ate something for the first time today. There are people coming to the house soon to mourn an actual human.

I have to cancel her vet appointment. I have to cancel her CareClub and flea & tick medicine subscription. I have to clean her dishes, beds, toys, etc and figure out what to do with them. There are still treats in ‘her’ backpack, the one I would take with us hiking so she could ride in it when she got tired.

My family is very supportive, I have savings to cover whatever the final medical expenses will be. Lola was 14 (and 1/2!) and spoiled rotten. I hope she knows I loved her and did my best to take care of her. I hope she knows that’s why I took her to the hospital and wasn’t too scared there.

I’m not good at talking about my feelings. I just end up crying and I don’t like crying so I try to avoid it. I don’t really want or need anything other than for this not to have happened, which isn’t something anyone can provide. I think writing this all out has helped. But this happened today, and it fucking sucks.

[solarishashernoseinabook]

(Image ID in the alt text)

Whelp, the nekkid kitty returns. She looks like a tiny goblin.

Chico's gonna be 23 in a couple of months. She's definitely showing her age. There's been a couple changes from the last time I updated everyone on her, though.

Some time around April or May, we introduced wet food into her diet. She used to eat dry food and would feed out of her bowl whenever she got hungry, and would eat between 50 and 75 grams of food a day. She was so skeletally thin her ribs stuck out, but she threw up undigested food regularly. In an attempt to get her to eat more, we gave her some wet treats and she loved them, so we tried wet food. Folks she went positively feral for that stuff, I held the tin under her mouth and she ate a good deal of it before I was able to get the tin away to put the food on a plate. Now she eats 170 grams of wet food a day.

What does this have to do with getting her shaved? Well, we got her shaved in June last year because she wasn't grooming herself and her winter fur got all matted. Her inner coat grew in after a couple of months, but her outer coat never came back - until we introduced the wet food, when it came back in a couple of weeks. That is, her winter coat came back - right when she should have been losing it. And without grooming herself, it got matted again before we figured out it was her winter coat, so we missed our opportunity to brush it for her. Not making that mistake again, we're gonna start brushing her regularly from now on - and she's at least grooming her paws herself again, which is an improvement.

Not all the news is so good, though. When she was last weighed in April she weighed 4.85 pounds. We thought for sure that with her appetite tripling that she'd gained some weight, and we could feel that weight on her. Turns out she's currently at 4.65 pounds. Average for a female domestic shorthair cat is between 6 and 16 pounds. I think the weight has redistributed slightly, but the fact that she's continuing to lose so much is concerning. I've seen enough personality changes in her that I feel confident saying the changes to her diet have given her more energy, though, and anything that makes her happier right now is good in my books.

One bright spot: the vet tech who spoke with me on the phone after her appointment says she observed Chico's grooming for a few minutes and said she was the best behaved cat she's ever seen :"3

[eretzyisrael]

Lioz Amar had booked a hotel online for a trip to Barcelona. He specified that he needed a walk-in shower but when he got to the room, he discovered it only had a bathtub.

That might have been a disappointment but not a deal breaker for most people. But Amar is not most people. In 2011, he was wounded during his service in the Israel Defense Forces and, since the age of 21, requires a wheelchair to get around.

“I went to the front desk and I said I need a roll-in shower,” Amar tells ISRAEL21c. “The guy brings out a ‘certificate of accessibility’ and says that this is an acceptable room. I said to him, put that paper aside for a second and think of me.”

The problem, Amar explains, is that there are no standards. A hotel can advertise that it’s accessible but how high is the bed? Is there braille on the elevator buttons? If there’s a knock on the door, will the lamp blink?

Web-based booking forms rarely go into such detail. Calling every hotel in town before traveling would be an overwhelming task.

Amar set out to fix that by creating an online travel site for people with disabilities. He called the site Travaxy, a mashup of “travel” and “accessibility.”

Every hotel on the site is vetted using a digital survey. And Travaxy displays only direct flights; you don’t want to get stuck in a strange airport overnight because of a missed connection while your wheelchair is still in transit.

Travaxy hasn’t built its own booking engine. “We have the same connections as at Booking.com or Expedia. On top of that, we have our own layer of hotels,” Amar explains.

Travaxy goes above and beyond online booking in many cases. “A few days ago, a woman called and wanted to do a bar mitzvah trip for her son in Israel, but her husband was in an electric wheelchair. She couldn’t find a bus that could accommodate the wheelchair at a reasonable price. I said, ‘Let me try.’ After five minutes, I came back with an offer. She said, ‘Book it now.’ Afterward she wrote to me that everything was perfect, especially the way the driver gracefully handled the father’s needs.”

Booking via Travaxy also means if a disabled traveler runs into trouble – for example, his or her wheelchair breaks in transit (something Amar says “happens at one time to everyone with a disability”) – Travaxy can send a replacement part or an entire chair.

Lioz Amar had booked a hotel online for a trip to Barcelona. He specified that he needed a walk-in shower but when he got to the room, he discovered it only had a bathtub.

That might have been a disappointment but not a deal breaker for most people. But Amar is not most people. In 2011, he was wounded during his service in the Israel Defense Forces and, since the age of 21, requires a wheelchair to get around.

“I went to the front desk and I said I need a roll-in shower,” Amar tells ISRAEL21c. “The guy brings out a ‘certificate of accessibility’ and says that this is an acceptable room. I said to him, put that paper aside for a second and think of me.”

The problem, Amar explains, is that there are no standards. A hotel can advertise that it’s accessible but how high is the bed? Is there braille on the elevator buttons? If there’s a knock on the door, will the lamp blink?

Web-based booking forms rarely go into such detail. Calling every hotel in town before traveling would be an overwhelming task.

Amar set out to fix that by creating an online travel site for people with disabilities. He called the site Travaxy, a mashup of “travel” and “accessibility.”

Every hotel on the site is vetted using a digital survey. And Travaxy displays only direct flights; you don’t want to get stuck in a strange airport overnight because of a missed connection while your wheelchair is still in transit.

    Lioz Amar, founder of Travaxy site for travelers with disabilities. Photo by Tomer Appelbaum    

Travaxy hasn’t built its own booking engine. “We have the same connections as at Booking.com or Expedia. On top of that, we have our own layer of hotels,” Amar explains.

Travaxy goes above and beyond online booking in many cases. “A few days ago, a woman called and wanted to do a bar mitzvah trip for her son in Israel, but her husband was in an electric wheelchair. She couldn’t find a bus that could accommodate the wheelchair at a reasonable price. I said, ‘Let me try.’ After five minutes, I came back with an offer. She said, ‘Book it now.’ Afterward she wrote to me that everything was perfect, especially the way the driver gracefully handled the father’s needs.”

Booking via Travaxy also means if a disabled traveler runs into trouble – for example, his or her wheelchair breaks in transit (something Amar says “happens at one time to everyone with a disability”) – Travaxy can send a replacement part or an entire chair.

15% of world population is disabled

The difference between Travaxy and mainstream travel sites is apparent as soon as you try to book a flight or hotel.

You are asked what your disability is, whether you need assistance getting to the gate or disembarking, whether your wheelchair is manual or battery operated (and what kind of battery it has, important when checking the chair as luggage), and even the door width you require.

Can’t you make similar requests on popular travel booking sites? “They say you can do it,” Amar replies. “It’s politically correct to say so, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t really happen.”

Travaxy has a staff person confirm every order offline. “We make sure that the request is getting noticed. So far, we’ve had zero mistakes,” Amar reports after the first month of operation, when the number of bookings was still in the hundreds.

Amar is confident those numbers will grow. “Fifteen percent of the world population is disabled,” he claims. “That’s 516 million people in developed countries. And they travel two to four times more than the usual traveler.”

Moreover, 80% of disabled people “travel with two or more people with them who are not disabled.” In 2017, disabled people booked 190 million holidays, Amar mentioned during an interview he gave to Israel’s Channel 12.

Paralympic champ

Amar has become one of those frequent travelers. “When I was first injured, I found myself in bed saying, ‘I’m over, I’m screwed, I’m only half a person. What’s the point?’ I was like that for a year and a half. It was catastrophic for me.”

Just when he was at his lowest, Amar discovered swimming as part of his rehabilitation process. “I went into the pool, started to swim. I was free and fast. I could swim without being tied into a wheelchair. And people noticed. They said, ‘You swim very fast; you need to talk to the coach.’”

Amar went on to become a Paralympic champion, coming in seventh in the 100-meter breaststroke in the 2008 Summer Paralympics in Beijing. “Life as an athlete requires quite a lot of travel around the world,” he notes.

Sport also turned around another aspect in Amar’s life. He met the woman who would become his wife, Natalie, at a rugby tournament for wheelchair players. “The guys were playing, and she came to see a game. We saw each other, clicked, and we haven’t left each other since.” The couple now has a three-and-a-half-year-old daughter.

Amar worked for a while as a swimming instructor. He later picked up programming skills and found himself, in 2016, as “an entrepreneur who doesn’t know how to be an entrepreneur, at least at first.” Amar smartly surrounded himself with expertise.

His business partner, Michal Ben Assage, worked for 24 years in the travel industry, most recently at Amadeus, the world’s largest business-to-business travel platform.“She came with knowledge from the agent side. I came with the technology and the disability side,” Amar says.

Travaxy also partnered with the Daka90 Israeli “last minute” travel site.

“We’re very different from what they usually do,” Amar says. “People with disabilities don’t generally look to book a flight for tomorrow. But they invested in us. They were cool enough to say that no one is treating this community right.”

Travaxy, which has a team of eight, operates out of Daka90’s Tel Aviv office, home of inhouse accelerator Daka90 Labs.

Other strategic partners include Itai Green, CEO of Israel Travel Tech Startups, an incubator for tourism startups; and Mediterranean Towers Ventures, the investment arm of a company that runs luxury senior homes in Israel. Older people often have accessibility needs when traveling.

Travaxy raised $480,000 via the ExitValley Israeli crowdfunding platform. Half of the money came from Mediterranean Towers Ventures in exchange for a 10% stake in the company. Arik Pinto, the retiring CEO of Bank Hapoalim, who walks with a cane since suffering from polio as a child, also invested. Travaxy is now looking to raise another $2 million.

Travaxy charges a commission on bookings, just like other online travel sites, fueling new features and new locations. The need to vet accommodations individually has kept the company from expanding willy-nilly: currently, you can book flights or hotels in Tel Aviv, New York, London, Amsterdam, Berlin and Barcelona.

Thailand is next, Amar says. “It’s a very popular destination but not very accessible. You need to know where you’re going and who will serve you. But once you make the relationships, the culture there is to help. They don’t mind me being in a wheelchair as long as I can bring more customers!”

For more information, click here

[northwestofinsanity]

Tagged!

17 questions 17 people

Thank you @deepporple​!

Nickname: Westie (well, it’s one of my online nicknames)

Zodiac: Gemini

Height: 5’5”, or 1.65 meters

Hogwarts house: Hufflepuff

Last thing I Googled: “Is YouTube Down?

Song stuck in my head: "Passion Rules the Game” by Scorpions is threatening to stick around awhile, and “School” by Supertramp has been my earworm of the last couple of days.

Number of followers: 356 (idk why.  A good number of them were porn blogs that are pixeled out now -which I’d have rather not had following me, but as a student, I didn’t have time to really try controlling that.  I’m glad to have my followers who genuinely enjoy my content, and aren’t following everyone just to try to see who will follow back for the sake of getting their follower count higher (maybe that happens here to a point, or maybe DeviantArt has made me a cynic in that respect too))

Amount of sleep: Catch as catch can... Depends on what life’s throwing at me.  If I really need sleep, I can go for 8, but I will automatically wake up after 6 hours at the most, and it’s a matter of luck if I’ll fall back asleep after that (assuming that’s an option).  Lately, crazy stuff in the family has me running on 4-6.

Lucky numbers: Haven’t necessarily considered which ones are and aren’t, but I’ve always favored odd multiples of 5.  Excluding 15 for a few years when October 15th seemed to be a cursed day for my family.

Dream job: Vet, or vet tech, realistically.  Any job working with animals is what I ultimately want.

Wearing: A blue sundress that’s some sort of cool-touch fabric and clings to as little as possible (because the heat index is 110 F here and I *cannot* deal)

Favourite song: Hard to choose one.  I have a lot of special experiences with “Into the Fire” by Dokken, “Crazy On You” by Heart, and “Ridin the Storm Out” by REO Speedwagon.

Favourite instrument: Piano is the most versatile thing I play, and have done thee most with over the years, but I really enjoyed playing my viola.  Straying from the rules, I could get it to do some cool things.

Aesthetic: Not sure I’ve figured out for sure what mine is

Favourite author: James Herriot.  Though I still love Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume from my childhood reading.

Favourite animal noise: My cat when he walks around the house and tries to yowl while carrying a toy in his mouth, so it comes out all funny-sounding.

Random: I’ve made the joke that I more or less ended up living in a modern-day version of an 80s music video concept back in May, and while I love my 80s bands, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.  (At least if it involves being held prisoner in your own home, and having your roommate scream at you and smash a chair into the wall feet away from your head in a burst of anger, because you dared leave your room while they were out of theirs and in a particularly anxious mood.  The only thing missing was forks taped over the eyes.)

 I don’t know who to tag… with a lot of my mutuals being inactive this year, I can’t get to 17, so I’ll leave this to whoever wants to do it, whether we’re mutuals or if you’re following (if you’re interested, that means you!)

[minicoopdetat]

character study.

BASICS

FULL NAME: August Levi Cooper

HOW IS IT PRONOUNCED?: August like the month, Chicken Coop- ER

IS THERE A MEANING BEHIND IT?: His mom loves a good hippy-esque name and fall is her favorite time of year. Fall’s a shitty name though and her choice was between Autumn and August, depnding on gender.

NICKNAMES: Coop. Cooper. Coop deville. Coop de Tat. Mini Coop. (( all of which he came up with))

AGE: 23.

DATE OF BIRTH:  April 2.

ZODIAC SIGN: Aries.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Salinas, ca.

HOMETOWN: Salinas, ca

LOCATION: Dayton, California

NATIONALITY: American.

EDUCATION LEVEL: BA in Biological Science.

OCCUPATION: Vet Tech at the local Animal Clinic

MENTAL CONDITIONS: Undiagnosed ADHD

PHYSICAL IMPAIRMENTS: None

ADDICTIONS: Sex. Sexting. Saying the work Fuck or any variation of it. Partying

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 5′10

BODY TYPE: fuckin ripped. that’s all you need to know

EYE COLOUR: Hazel

HAIR COLOUR: Brunette

HAIR STYLE Geled and combed to bedhead perfection

STYLE: varies, very party boy chic, but can clean up well if need be. 

PIERCINGS: none

TATTOOS: he has seven ‘dragon balls’ in various places ( 1:inner wrist, 2: inner wrist, 3: shoulder blade, 4: hip , 5: behind his ear, 6: back of neck 7:ass); nightwing symbol (ankle); squirtle squad shades ( coming soon )

PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS: loyal. optimistic. passionate. outgoing. confident

NEGATIVE TRAITS: loud. tactless. gullible. dramatic. reckless 

WHAT DO THEY CONSIDER TO BE THE BEST AND THE WORST PART OF THEIR PERSONALITY?: Best part? His confidence. It’s something he was picked at for as a kid. He was way TOO MUCH and there were times he felt bad about his high energy, but he’s grown to embrace it and wear it that EXTRANESS like a fuckin gym badge. Worst part? What do you mean worst part? It’s all great. Unless you count the part where he can get over whelmed/overstimulated. Or you know, the fact he gets conned on the regular due to his trusting nature.

ARE THEY MORE EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED?: Extroverted.

ANY TALENTS?: He’s a 3rd degree blackbelt and speaks Japanese. His epic pkmn battling skills. 

WHAT ARE THEIR FEARS?: dying alone and forgotten. skeletons. 

ANY ALLERGIES?: none

DO THEY HAVE ANY PHOBIAS?: not the universe its self, but the idea that one life is nothing but a speck, maybe tinier, in the grand scheme of things

WHAT IS THEIR SOFT SPOT?: friends & family. animals. underdogs. his ears and his collar bone.

LIST 3 PET-PEEVES THEY CAN’T STAND: shoes in the house. shoes in general. passive agressive behavior.

PAST

BEST MEMORY:  When his entire family came out to his last soccer game to be his cheering section despite being ousted by the rest of the team. He sat the bench, due to the fight, but they made a big deal out of it anyway.

WORST MEMORY: His first panic attack. He was in 4th grade and being sent to the principal’s office. It was a rainy day, so they’d been stuck inside the entire time and gym wasn’t for another hour or so. It was the classic struggle for him and Ms. Donaldson. She wanted him to sit still and well-- he needed to move. In kindergarten, pacing around, wiggling, bouncing, all that might’ve been excusable cause Kindergarteners were little. They couldn’t help it. But a nine year old? She had trouble giving him the same leeway so to make an example of him, she sent him to the principal’s. Fine. He didn’t care until he got half way down the hall and suddenly it felt like his chest was on fire. It tightened and he found himself struggling to breathe, leaving him light headed and trembling. He thought he was fucking dying and it didn’t help that he could see a class coming from the computer lab. So rather than let anyone see him, he ducked into the nearest broom closet and shut the door. Didn’t help. It was small. Too small and he tried the door. It didn’t budge. He tried again. Nothing. The room felt like it was getting smaller and smaller, his chest tighter to the point he was sobbing and banging on the door. He was going to die in there. He was sure of it. And he had so much to do. He hadn’t finished the last Saga of DBZ. He needed to take his black belt test. He never even got to ask Chelsey C out to get ice cream and he was so so sure he could score at least a kiss on the cheek and he leaned against the door, fists slamming on the door one last time before it opened, and he tumbled out into the floor. The principal, along with a good chunk of the his class were standing there as he crumpled and curled into a ball. Two minutes. That’s how long he’d been gone and how long it took for him to derail the first half of his school year. He did his best to ignore the teasing and generally did a good job. It wasn’t his last incident, but it was certainly the worst.

BIGGEST SECRET: He could’ve been a dad a few years ago. It was a random hook up and he was scared shitless, but planned on stepping up to do the right thing. She had a miscarriage though and he still wonders what his life would be like if she hadn’t.

BIGGEST WISH: To live life to the fullest, help animals out and have a strong support system. Oh and to prove Carol Baskin murdered her husband.

BIGGEST FEAR: Dying without anyone truly seeing him. He’s accepted himself, mess and all. He refuses to let anyone change what makes him him and refuses to beg anyone to see past his loud obnoxious self, but sometimes it’s all so exhausting. the idea of dying, and being thought of as just another insignificant fuck boi is fucking crushing.

FIRST KISS: Chelsey C. at the park across the street from the ice cream shop.

FIRST LOVE: Samantha Ruiz.  

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND:  Adam Birch. Danielle Fitzgerald

CHILDHOOD PERSONALITY: Cooper was even more loud and showy than he is now. He had the energy of five Energizer bunnies and reeked havoc on the school. He actually had a special room dedicated to him at one point that the teacher just let him get his energy out in. Most of it was positive, though there were moments he became overwhelmed, angry or distraught. At first it was seen as dramatics, but it quickly snowballed to the point his teachers were requesting medicine of some sort. His mother enrolled him in therapy and they worked on rounding out his moods. It worked well enough that he was able to get by aside from a panic attack every once and a while. Other than that, he was and still very much is a high energy guy.

ROMANCE & SEXUALITY

TURN ONS: Daddy kink. Confidence. Doe eyes. Independence. Glasses. Eye contact. Dirty Talk. Honesty. Wax play. Playful banter/teasing/laughing during sex. Having his hands restrained. Marking. Boldness. A pulse.

TURN OFFS: Bathroom play. Indifference. Judgement. Cynicism. Bullies (emotional or physical)

MISCELLANEOUS

SPEAKING VOICE CLAIM: Gregg Sulkin

SINGING VOICE CLAIM: N/A

MOTHER’S NAME: elizabeth cooper

RELATIONSHIP WITH MOTHER: His mother is his biggest supporter and he loves her to death. She was there for him when he was struggling most and let him know it was ok to be him, no matter what other people thought or felt.

FATHER’S NAME: maxwell cooper

RELATIONSHIP WITH FATHER: His relationship with his father isn’t as close as he and his mother, but they love each other and have their own way of showing it.

SIBLINGS: maxwell cooper jr (36), summer cooper (34; heartborn), dawn cooper (32), buzz cooper (30; heartborn), willow cooper (28), skye cooper (26; heartborn)

PETS: Satoshi; “foster” dog

ROLE MODELS: His parents. His brother. Joe Exotic. Goku. 

FAVORITE PLACE: The animal shelter.

FAVORITE ANIMALS: White Tigers. Otters.

FAVORITE BOOKS: Most comics. The Giver.

FAVORITE MOVIES: Most of the Bond Movies. Hunger Games. Clue. Cabin in the Woods.

FAVORITE MUSIC: Anything by Usher. Childish Gambino. Doja Cat. MJ. Anything and everything really.

FAVORITE FOOD: Mexican. Steak. Crab Rangoon. THE RANGOON MOTHER.

QUIRKS

ARE THEY RIGHT OR LEFT HANDED?: Left Handed

WHAT’S A WORD THAT’S ALWAYS ON THEIR LIPS?: Fuck. DIck. Fuck Me.

WHAT LANGUAGES DO THEY SPEAK?: English and Japanese

DO THEY CURSE?: Excessively.

WHAT’S THEIR WORST HABIT(S)?: Talks about his dick too much. Clicks his tongue. Can’t sit still long periods of time. Trusts anyone and everyone.

DO THEY DRINK OR SMOKE? HOW FREQUENTLY?:  Yes, but not often. 

ARE THEY AN EARLY BIRD OR A NIGHT OWL?: Both. But leans toward Night Owl.

HOW TIDY IS THEIR ROOM?: Incredibly tidy as is the rest of his place.

HOW LONG TO THEY USUALLY TAKE GETTING READY?: About an hour on a good day. He’s got a routine and he doesn’t sacrifice quality for speed.

[fisherfurbearer]

Mr. Jinx’s Last Blaze of Glory: 11/13/19, 4:20 pm

(Mr. Jinx in Dumb Baby Jail. Bought him a water fountain and Expensive wet food because I didn’t know how long we’d have together.)

I wrote about this last night but my phone died and I lost what I had down.

Basically...Mr. Jinx, my old man cat that I’ve had just about 15 years now, the best cat in the whole wide world, is being put to sleep today.

He’s been living with my stepdad since we last had to move in February and couldn’t take him with us, and in the past month or so he started eating less and acting sluggish. We took him to the vet last Tuesday and it was much worse than I thought. He was extremely anemic and lost a couple pounds at least. It breaks my heart because the second we walked into the room to get him in the crate, he ran up to us and meowed like he usually does, so chipper and craving attention, but he’s just...not okay.

The vet kept him overnight to give him IV fluids and monitor him. He barely improved and they had to keep him another day. They did a urinalysis and bloodwork and while we didn’t know the exact extent/cause of anything, we knew at the time it was something up with his liver. Only thing we could do was take him to a specialist for an ultrasound, but there was no point in doing that if he wasn’t going to improve and eat anyway. After the second day he still would barely eat but his attitude was good (the vet techs LOVE him...he’s such a ham, meowing if anyone passes by and hitting his forehead on them and begging for pets. He’s Very talkative and sweet, anyone he meets falls in love with him) and we agreed that taking him home and trying an appetite stimulant would be the best course of action. We would try to get him to eat and drink, and if he improved a little, we could take him to have an ultrasound done to see what’s going on inside him.

We took him home Wednesday evening, if I remember right. I was so scared to see how bad he would look, but when we got there we could hear the vet tech in the back room cooing to him, “Mr. Jinx!! You’re going home buddy!!” and his happy little meows. What a jerk. Making me think he was on death’s door, but he’s really just livin’ it up, getting tons of pets and attention. The lady there said he was unbelievably sweet, he wouldn’t stop chatting and was so well-behaved. That’s because he’s the best cat in the whole wide world, obviously, and he knows it.

Anyway, Jinxy Buns came home with us and was put on antibiotics, steroids, and a topical appetite stimulant. (Poor guy, he’s no longer organic. He’s a GMO Jinxy now.) He’s so stupid...doesn’t even know how bad it is. He was just so happy to see everyone, and chirped when he saw our roommate again, who ADORES Mr. Jinx, and bumped foreheads with everyone and chatted with us as we pet him. He was a champ with taking all his medicine and over the past five days he started eating a tiny bit more, a couple full mouthfuls instead of just licks, and drank water off and on. His behavior is still sweet and wonderful, but his body just isn’t cooperating. He can’t clean himself, he’s peed on himself by accident, he tries so hard to make it to the litterbox but he’s so uncomfortable. He’s lost so much weight it’s terrifying, yet his belly is still so bloated and squishy.

(Jinxy Buns at the Hope animal hospital for Sick Dumb Cats...they shaved him so he’s very naked and weird. He feels like velveteen. The vet there said he was perfect and was ‘low talking’ her while they shaved him.)

We made an appointment for the ultrasound and the soonest we could do was Tuesday, which was yesterday. Long story short, Mr. Jinx has the feline equivalent of lymphoma. His liver, spleen, and gallbladder are filled with growths and his spleen is basically unsalvageable. He’s turning a little jaundiced from the start of his liver failing, and his chest and abdomen are FILLED with fluid. He’s so bloated because it’s all just...FLUID. Basically he’s got Super Mega Cancer and he’s filled with goo. The vet said they stuck a needle in him and drew out this gross vial that they showed us, filled with yellowish liquid from Jinx’s abdomen. Jinxy Cat is so stupid though, he’s so dumb, doesn’t even know he’s full of goo and dying. He’s a goo-boy now, a friggin’ stress ball of goop. Dumb idiot jerk he didn’t even tell me it was this bad, he was too busy getting kissed and snuggled to tell me he was dying.

We got home around 7 pm last night from the appointment, it was a long drive. We listened to Johnny Cash and cried a lot. I expected this though and I’ve had almost a week to cope with the Possibility, but to hear that it’s THIS bad...I don’t know. My heart hurts so much.

We called our vet again on the way home, and scheduled to have him PTS today at 4:20. Of COURSE that would be the first time slot they offer. It’s just like Mr. Jinx to get Super Mega Baby Death Cancer and become a Goo-Boy and get put to sleep on the WEED NUMBER. It’s ABSOLUTELY the only way he could go, right? He’s just too good for this world. He loves too much, Death said “Jinxy Buns, you’re dumb as hell, you’re too cute and wonderful, it’s your time now and I’m going to sentence you to Triple Mega Ultra Death to make sure of it” and Jinx would probably just say “mrow!” because he’s a cat.

It’s just now turning 12:30. I’ve had tiny pets pass away, but I’ve never really...BEEN there for a euthanasia, I found Possie passed away on her own, I’ve had inverts pass away, but I’ve never had to PTS a pet that I’ve had for this long before (I’m 21 now. He’s been with me since I was about 7 years old.) nor any pet that has ever been this close. He’s...he’s my Mr. Jinxy Cat. He’s always been here for me and he’s such a special guy. I wish I had talked about him more here. He has such a way of making everyone he meets fall in love with him. Even people who “don’t like cats” or animals in general love Mr. Jinx. I don’t know what to do without him. But at least he could spend his last week in comfort with us, being pampered with delicious food, catnip (I bought him an entire plant. He ate it.), pets, and love from all his favorite people.

It’s a little under four hours now until it’s time. I’m going to give him a kiss and let him sit on the bed with me so we can be together a little longer. This still doesn’t feel real. I still worry a little that I’m doing the wrong thing, putting him to sleep now when he’s still so happy and alive, but he’s obviously not doing great and it’s probably better to let him go now before he keels over of Proper liver failure or feline goo-disease or something.

Rip in rest my little old man. You’re the best buddy, the best friend, anyone could have ever asked for. Even if you’re a little goo-boy.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

I seem to have lost the ask where someone requested an Umbrella Academy AU, but anyway here goes.

They’re different from what Jake was expecting, and yet in many ways they’re just the same.  Marco’s still tight-lipped and wild-eyed, a few new tattoos and several new track marks not changing his swagger or his smile.  Cassie’s the only one who thought to wear black, but then she’s always preferred clothing that’s easy to match.  Jake realizes after a second that he’s waiting still for someone else, and yet that’s it.  That’s all that’s left of them these days.  Rachel’s dead.  Five is... gone, probably for good.  Tobias was probably never going to show.  There’s only three of them, where once there were six.  They’re orphans, now, or maybe they always were.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Tobias?” Cassie asks, as they sit and stare at the urn of their father’s ashes.  “Just to make sure we’re all here?”  Imploring, she looks at Mom.

Grace shifts slightly, servos whirring.  “Your father’s will didn’t specifically mention Tobias.”

Marco sighs loudly.  “Of course not.  Did anyone even call him, let him know that the old bastard kicked it?”  He turns his head, looking at apparent thin air.  “Yeah, okay.”  He turns back to Jake and Cassie.  “Rachel’s with me, that we should wait.  See if he shows.”

Jake shrugs.  Their whole lives, Tobias seemed kind of... aloof.  Distant.  Stuck halfway out of their world, cast into the shadows.  And then Five disappeared, and Rachel died, and it was like his last links to this family had been severed.  Might as well run off.  Might as well get rich off a tell-all that spilled their most personal selves across the page: Cassie’s desperation for love and connection, Marco’s endless self-loathing chatter, Jake’s single-minded devotion, Rachel’s petty tyranny, Five’s wandering between times and selves and states of existence.

“Alternately, we could just have Big Jake chuck Dad in the ground before fucking back off to space,” Marco suggests.  “After all, Number One’s the only one the old coot ever really liked —”

“Marco.”  Cassie’s voice is quiet but severe.  “He’s been dead two days.  A little respect wouldn’t be the worst thing, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, like being dead is an accomplishment.”  Marco’s head snaps around.  “Well ex-cuuuuse me.  We’ll just have to get you a medal then.”

Jake feels his mouth tighten.  Marco claims to talk to Rachel.  Too bad for all of them that Marco’s always been so damn good at bullshitting, because now there’s really no saying what the truth is.

Jake hopes—  He wants—  He wants what’ll make Rachel happy, whatever that might look like now.

Cassie smiles.  “Thanks, Rachel.  Let’s wait for Tobias.”

Jake’s about to agree when a fucking portal opens in the middle of the backyard and spits a thirteen-year-old version of Number Five onto the lawn.

Jake perches gingerly on the edge of Number Five’s bed; the frame groans but holds.  Watching Five teleport around the room, eating and talking and packing all at once, dressed like that, looking like he does... It’s a discomfiting echo of an earlier time.  Before Cassie ran away.  Before Rachel’s career blew up, and then her trailer did as well.  Before Tobias became so quiet, and Marco got so loud.

Jake clears his throat.  “Five...”

Five swallows a wad of marshmallow and peanut butter.  “Ax.  At the Commission they called me Ax, and I know how you feel about titles and codenames.”

Weird name.  Violent.  “Ax, then,” Jake says.  “When you say that the world’s ending in six days...”

Ax clips a sickle to his belt.  “Six of your days, yes.”  With no further explanation, he disappears with a faint whoosh of air.

Cassie knows who it is from the unsteady rattle of the knock, even before she opens the door a crack.  Marco’s in a bad way today, pale and sweating with the darting gaze that tells her he’s seeing people that the rest of them can’t perceive.  “Hi,” she says softly, and then, “One sec.”

She shuts the door, hurrying through the one-room apartment to shove everything not bolted down — combat knives and scalpels, syringes and knick-knacks — into the lockbox under her bed.  Marco’s her brother and she’ll take him in no matter what, but that doesn’t mean she’ll tolerate her stuff getting stolen.  He might be (might be) clean now, but it never lasts.

Marco has to know what she’s doing, but he doesn’t comment when she lets him in.  Instead he smiles at her, soft and wavering, and says “How’s fighting the good fight these days?”

Coming from him, the question is just a little bit sarcastic, just a little bit mean.  Cassie’s not a real cop, not a real anything.  Even vet tech school wouldn’t have her, given her nonexistent formal education, so it’s just as well that she doesn’t mind cleaning the humane shelter’s cages and exercising its dogs in exchange for the apartment upstairs and enough cash to keep her alive.

“Detective Patch told me just the other day that she appreciates my help, thank you for asking,” Cassie says.

Marco raises his eyebrows, smirking.  “So you two…?”

“Still broken up, and we’re both happier that way.”  Eager to change the subject, Cassie shifts away to sit on the bed.  “How’s…?”  They don’t talk about Rachel.  It discomfits them all, especially Rachel.  “Any luck with Dad?” she says instead.

Marco purses his lips.  “So far so good.”  Meaning no word.  “If I ever do hear from him, I’ll be sure to tell him that at least his Numbers Two and One are doing him proud.”

That one was definitely sarcastic, definitely mean.  Cassie stands to walk across the room rather than answering.  She opens the mini-fridge next to the stairs, setting aside a tray of frozen feeder mice to find a can of soda that she brings back to Marco.

“Have you ever considered that maybe using my powers isn’t about Dad?” she says at last.  “That maybe I do it for me, or for Patch, or, I don’t know, for the people I can help by actually using the things we learned?”

Marco turns the can over in his hands, frowning.  Caffeine’s the strongest drug he’s going to get on these premises, which makes Cassie like to think that he comes for the company.  “And Jake?  Why’s he still keeping calm and carrying on, all the way to the moon and back?”

“Jake…”  Cassie sits across from him.  Jake never learned to put what he has to other uses, the way she learned to use her knives for good or Rachel turned her skillful voice toward a surprisingly lucrative film career.  “Jake doesn’t know what else to do, I think sometimes.  Not that any of us do, really.”

It’s not Marco’s fault.  He is the way he is because of their dad.  Because of his power.  Because he was, like Jake, never given another way out.  “Hush, you,” he says to someone that Cassie cannot hear.  “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Is that Rachel’s... um.”  Jake stalls midsentence, apparently for lack of a word for the garment that Marco is currently wearing.

“Don’t worry, I got her permission to borrow it.”  Marco flicks a handful of fringe at Jake.  “She’d eviscerate me if I didn’t.”

“Anyway, the end of the world,” Ax says.  “Whirrrrl-ed.  Huh.”  He’s two margaritas deep already and seems to have overestimated his own tolerance.  He’s always been a hedonist, but Cassie is worried to see that this adult version has switched from pastries to hard liquor.  “I bought us some time, three of your days, but we need to find Taylor Preston and kill her before she does...”  He giggles.  “Something bad.  I couldn’t get any details about what, exactly.”

“What?”  Marco looks at presumably-Rachel.  “No, no one bothered to call Tobias.  This is superhero crap, not the usual family drama.”

“So this Taylor person causes the end of the world,” Jake says.  “But she’s innocent.  We can’t kill her for something she didn’t do.”

“All of you will die if we don’t find her in time,” Ax says.  “And the rest of the world too, including Taylor.”

“Rachel says she’s so very glad to hear the Commission got to you so thoroughly, Ax.”  Marco traces his own lifeline between the lines of one tattoo, not bothering to look up at them.

“Let’s find Taylor, and try and talk to her.”  Cassie glances around at them all.  “It’s a start anyway.”

“Very well.”  Ax pushes to his feet, staggering slightly.  “And if it’s not too much trouble, I would like someone to call Tobias in.  I...”  For the first time, he looks just the tiniest bit vulnerable.  “I would like to see him one more time, if this is to be the end.”

“You’re quiet,” Jake comments.  It’s true; he’s barely heard a word out of Marco all afternoon.  Normally there’s no shutting him up.  Marco doesn’t answer, opting to continue to stare out the window and clutch at whichever pendant he’s wearing around his neck today.

Jake tries again.  “Marco.  You all right?”

Slowly Marco turns, hand clenched around his necklace.  He takes a second to orient to Jake’s face.  “You ever been to South Vietnam?” he asks at last.

“Um, no,” Jake says.

Marco smiles sadly.  “Spaceboy’s been to two planets, four satellites, and zero Vietnams.  Should’ve known.”

“I think there’s only the one,” Jake says.  Presumably, this is all heading toward a point.  “Is it... nice, there?”

“Course not.  Full of dead Americans.”  Marco turns back to the window.  “Actually, that’s probably not true anymore.  They tend to, uh, disperse?  I guess.  After a while.  And there’s only one now.  Any idea which one survived?”

Jake takes a breath, letting it out slowly.  He loves Marco, he does, but there are also times when he needs Cassie around to translate the.. Séance-ness.  “Which... Vietnam?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter now.  Fucking everybody lost that war, huh?”

“I just wish you’d tell me what’s wrong,” Jake blurts.

“What’s wrong?”  Marco spins, grinning suddenly.  “What’s wrong is that the world’s ending in less than a week, little bro, and you haven’t even lived yet!”  He releases the necklace to clap his hands, rubbing his palms together.  “I mean, have you ever even had alcohol?  Ever ever?”

“‘Little bro?’” Jake says, dodging the real question.

“I’m the second oldest now, time travel’s a bitch, what’s important is that you —”  He pokes Jake in the chest.  “Have got to get your jacket and your car keys, Goody Two Shoes, because we are hitting the bars now before the apocalypse catches us.”

“Can’t we just, like, raid Dad’s liquor cabinet?”

“Sadly, Ax got there first.  And judging by what he did to the coffee, the peanut butter, and the corn syrup — straight from the bottle! — there’s going to be slim pickings left for you and me.  Nope, we are headed to a bar, we’re going to get you, hmmm, six or seven Long Island Iced Teas should probably take the edge off even for a thicc bod like yours, and if you’re feeling some pot or some E later on tonight, then who am I to stop you.”

Well, Jake figures as he heads for his coat, at least Marco’s talking again.  That’s something.

“Just like... old times... huh?”  Marco pants, struggling for breath.  Ax is not sure if Marco’s addressing him or Tobias or someone already dead.  He’s too busy grabbing more pool balls off the table to reload where Cassie’s chucking them around the corner.  The Commission sent several dozen of their best this time, and Ax would be honored if he wasn’t so terrified for his whole family.

“Ax, take Tobias and run for it!” Jake calls from the next room over.  There’s an unpleasant wet tearing sound of him separating one or more limbs from someone’s torso by force.  “You two are no good to us here!”

“Yep,” Tobias says, mouth pressed in a grim line.  “Just like old times.”

Cassie swipes the back of one hand across her nose, grimacing when it comes away wet with blood.  “You know... he didn’t mean...”  She whips around, hurling an eight ball that impacts someone’s skull with a thunk.

“Where’s Marco?” Tobias says.

Ax looks around wildly, but he’s gone.  Taken, or worse.

Bullets chew the wood above their heads, showering them with splinters.  The assassins are gaining ground.  Cassie and Ax aren’t enough to hold them back.

There are too many of them.  There are simply too many.  They can’t win this fight, not with only the five — or four — of them, not when Tobias can’t do much of anything to help...

“Go, and I’ll hold them off!” Jake shouts, because of course he does.  “Just get out of here, all of you, and I’ll —”

There’s a wall-rattling thud as he goes down.  Ax pops out there, pops back immediately; there’s no way in hell he can lift Jake, not in this child’s body.  Better to draw as much of the fire away from him as possible, and then... and then...

They’re pinned down.  Underequipped.  Outnumbered.  Maybe they’re all going to end up like Rachel, and if Marco’s still alive out there somewhere then they’ll spend the rest of eternity yammering away at him from the beyond.

Which is when the Manor’s intercom crackles to life.

“I heard a rumor,” says a strangely doubled voice that is both Marco’s and not, “that you all stopped fighting and instead talked about your feelings like actual goddamn adults.”

Things get a little fuzzy after that, but the next thing Ax knows he’s sitting in a circle on the floor with the rest of his siblings.  All of them.  Rachel’s sitting there, translucent and flickering and weirdly synchronized with Marco’s movements, but he can see her, he can hear her, and...

“...I think what I really wanted, deep down, was the chance just to be a decent person,” Jake’s saying, tears in his eyes.  “Not a hero.  Not an explorer.  Just a guy who could get through the day and do the right thing without all this goddamn responsibility.”

All of the Commission assassins — who have formed a circle of their own, a little away from the Hargreeveses — break into murmurs of agreement.

“Ax?” Rachel says.

She heard a rumor that he’d talk about his feelings, which is why Ax feels an enormous rush of relief to let it out.  “I always wanted to live up to your expectations,” he tells Jake.  He turns to Rachel.  “And I wanted to be closer to you.”  To Marco.  “And I always thought it was a load of crap that Dad put so much pressure on you, but I can see now that I was too caught up in my own rebellion to support yours.”  To Cassie.  “You were right about Mom.”

Last he turns to Tobias.  “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” he says.  “You mean more to me than I know how to express, and what you have, who you are... That’s more than any superpower will ever be.”

Tobias swallows hard.  He nods once, apparently not trusting his own voice.

“My turn,” Rachel says.  “Because I have some feelings about what it’s been like watching you all beat yourselves and each other up for all of these years.  You’re all so stupid.  You’re self-centered and stubborn and... and I love you pack of losers so much.”  She sighs, settling halfway into the carpet.

“There’s a comet.”

They all turn to look at Tobias, who quails a little under the sudden attention.  Rachel reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder.  Ax rubs their knees together.

“There’s a comet,” Tobias says, gathering strength.  “It’s going to hit the Earth tomorrow.  The whole planet will be knocked off axis and all life will be annihilated in a matter of hours.”

Jake frowns.  “But we know about this.  The government space program attached a bomb to a rover...”

“And I disabled it.”

They all gape at Tobias.

“How?” Rachel says.

“I, uh.”  Tobias holds up a hand.  “I can’t really control it that well, but...”  He snaps his fingers.

Rain falls steadily.  They’re inside.  It’s a sunny day.  But Ax’s hair is getting wet, his skin is cold with the slickness of it, and there are even clouds overhead.

Jake scrambles to his feet, mouth open in shock.

“Yeah.”  Tobias shrugs.  The rain disappears.  “I can change reality sometimes.  And I just figured it was time, y’know?  Like humans have been around long enough, and we’re at risk of breaking out of this planet.  Better to contain the virus before it spreads.”

Ax chills.  It’s close, closer than he likes, to everything he argued in favor of killing Taylor.

The silence echoes.  It thunders.

“Being dead is overrated.”  Rachel’s voice is ethereal, ephemeral, eternal.  “Might as well live.”  And then she puts her arms around Tobias and pulls him close.

“Who knows.”  Ax takes one of Tobias’s hands in both of his.  “Humans might pleasantly surprise you, for once.”

Tobias folds forward in their grip.  The first spasm that goes through him is all it takes; the sobs follow faster and faster after that.

It takes a moment of focus.  A moment of intent.  The opposite of anger; love.  It takes Rachel growling at the others to give him some space, Marco singing under his breath, Ax mumbling equations and Cassie holding Jake back from micromanaging them all.

A light blinks on.  An ordinance is armed.

The Earth keeps spinning, and circling, and growing as scheduled.

They go to Griddy’s Doughnuts, afterward.  It’s back, like nothing ever happened.  None of them are quite sure what just happened back there, but they’re hungry and they’re confused and they’re all exhausted beyond all reason.  They get some looks, between Jake’s reality-distorting size and Cassie’s intermittent nosebleed and Marco’s flak jacket overtop a muumuu and Ax’s school uniform and Tobias’s white irises and the fact that Rachel only exists to the five of them.  But they get coffee and doughnuts too, because apparently they’re not too weird for the waitstaff to tolerate.

“So... did we just save the world?” Tobias asks softly.

Ax tilts his head back, chugging the last few ounces of his third vanilla latte.  “It would appear so, yes.  I had not fully calculated the odds of our success beyond the second or third decimal place, but the approximate percent —”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rachel says.

Cassie leans against the counter next to Jake, looking down the line of her siblings arrayed on the spin-top chrome stools.  “So, what now?” she asks.

Before Jake can answer, a woman taps him on the shoulder.  “Excuse me, sir, ma’am?”  She looks between him and Cassie.  “I know it’s really not my place, but...”  She leans around Jake and Cassie to direct a pointed stare at Ax.  “Should you really be letting your son have that much coffee?”

“Our what?”  Jake turns to follow the direction of her gaze.  “Oh, our son!” he says loudly.  “As in, the child that we gave birth to.  After being pregnant.  Because that’s how normal thirteen-year-olds come into existence.  And Ax is perfectly normal, and he’s our son.  Who is thirteen.  Obviously.”

Anyone in the doughnut shop who wasn’t already staring at them is definitely doing so now.  Cassie attempts a charming smile.

The busybody sniffs, apparently uncharmed.  “As I was saying, he’s very young to be drinking so much coffee, don’t you think?”

“Coffee... has energy,” Cassie offers.  “And he’s a growing boy.  And growing requires energy.  So caffeine is good.”

The woman continues to look between her and Jake, mouth halfway open, eyebrows drawn tight together.  Jake and Cassie continue to smile politely back at her.

Finally, she turns around and walks away.

“You two fuckin nailed that one,” Rachel drawls.  “I don’t think she suspected a thing.”  She’s snuggled up against Tobias.  Marco is lost somewhere in the cuddle puddle too.

Cassie laughs, which she seems to do every time Rachel speaks where they can all hear.  They need it.  They all do.  And the rest of the world can go screw itself, because this, right here, all of them... This is enough.

[Whoever requested this AU let me know, and also sorry for having lost the original ask.]

[itsladykit]

Noir - 2

AO3 Link

Content warning: reference to animal abuse

-

Once she was clean and dry, the kitten turned out to be a deep black and fluffy. She fit neatly into the palm of Rus’ hand, but now that she was warm, she didn’t want to stay there. She mrewed indignantly and tried to squirm out of his hand, but Rus smiled and chided her quietly, adjusting to keep hold of her. Edge, sitting tense and upright in the driver’s seat, glanced at him quickly. “You have her?”

“relax, edgelord. i think i can hold onto her.”

She squirmed, but she was still small and weak. He had no trouble managing her as they pulled up to the vet clinic. Rus talked to the little kitten quietly as he got out of the car—babble meant to reassure, even if the kitten couldn’t understand. Edge stood beside his door, his fingers curled closed. Rus offered the kitten to him. “you wanna take her?”

He lifted his hands, then resolutely crossed them. Without a word, he turned away and stepped into the vet’s office, holding the door open for Rus. They’d only just opened, but the waiting room was full already. Patrons, mostly humans, watched them as they entered, a few smiling at the little kitten cradled in Rus’ hands. Edge went up to the counter while Rus took a seat beside an older lady. She smiled at him warmly, revealing a few missing teeth. He smiled back cautiously. The whole place had a semi-familiar antiseptic smell he found unsettling, and the kitten was starting to squirm again. “hey, hey,” he murmured to her, “none of that.”

She squirmed out of one hand, and he caught her with the other. At the counter, both Edge and the receptionist were looking at him. A few minutes later, she came around the counter and held out a cardboard cat carrier. “Put her in here, hon. No loose animals in the waiting room.”

“oh! uh, thanks!”

She smiled at him and helped him ease the kitten inside. She closed it up and handed both kitten and carrier back to him. “We’re cleaning one of our exam rooms for you. It’ll be just a few minutes.” They thanked her, and Edge sat on his other side, hands folded in his lap.

The kitten started to cry.

Rus ducked down to peer at her through one of the holes in the carrier, but it was too dark inside. The old woman beside him clicked her tongue and said, “Poor dear,” in a thick accent.

He stuck a fingerbone through, hoping to pet her. “hey, kitty. it’s okay. it’s okay.” The kitten continued to cry. She sounded so upset about it, but Rus smiled slightly and shook his head. He turned to say something to Edge, but it caught in his throat when he saw him. His whole body was stiff and tense, and his hands were clenched tight in his lap. “hey.” Edge looked to him, and he said, “she’s fine. it’s safer for her in there anyway.”

Edge exhaled slowly. “She’s trapped somewhere she doesn’t want to be. I’d be upset too.”

Rus adjusted his hold on the cat carrier so he could reach out and take Edge’s hand in his. “yeah. we’ll get a better carrier for her when we pick up supplies.”

“She’s going to the shelter on Monday,” Edge said stiffly. “This carrier will serve until then.” He shifted uncomfortably and squeezed Rus’ hand, lacing their fingers together. “We can open the top when we’re back in the car. At least then you can pet her.”

“Uh...Edge?” a scrub-clad vet tech asked as she peered into the waiting room.

They stood and followed her into the back. The kitten continued to mewl.

Inside, the vet tech directed them to take the kitten out and put her on the exam table. “This is Edge?” she asked, looking dubiously at the fluffy kitten.

Rus coughed to hide his laughter, and Edge sighed, raising his hand. “I am Edge. The kitten doesn’t have a name.” The tech blinked, her eyebrows creeping upwards. “I found her this morning. We’re taking her to the shelter when they open, but we wanted to make sure she was healthy until then.”

The tech brightened immediately. “Oh! Well, we’ll need a name for our files.” She waited.

Rus and Edge looked at each other. “uhhhh....”

Still bright and cheerful, she said, “why don’t you think about it, and i’ll take at look at—“ She checked. “—her.”

Rus nodded and turned to Edge, about to start suggesting the most absurd names he could conceive of, but Edge’s arms were crossed and he was watching the tech intently.

“You say you found her?” she asked, parting the kitten’s fur.

While she scribbled down notes, Edge nodded. “In the park. I didn’t see her mother or her littermates nearby.”

The tech made a soft sound of disapproval. “It’s probably because she’s black.”

The skeletons exchanged a look. “Excuse me?”

The tech looked up, petting the kitten. “Some people think black cats are bad luck. It can be hard to find homes for them. And sometimes...” She exhaled. “Well. Some people will use any excuse to be cruel.” The little kitten mrewed again, and she scratched it behind the ears, earning more purring. She smiled and said, “I know, little cutie. Who wouldn’t want you?” Turning back to the skeletons, she said, “I’m gonna take her into the back and get her weighed, maybe see if we can estimate her age. She’s probably old enough to get her first vaccinations. I know you’re taking her to the shelter—“

“Go ahead and give her the shots,” Edge said gruffly. “We’ll call it a donation.”

The tech smiled and pulled the kitten to her chest, talking soothingly to it as she took it through the rear door. Edge immediately started pacing, but Rus sat in the available chair. He started snickering. “man, if we ever have kids, you are gonna be completely unbearable aren’t—?”

Edge spun and glared at him, arms crossed. “Who would want to hurt that creature?” he demanded, and Rus realized that what he’d mistaken for worry was actually rage. “Someone deliberately left it out in the rain and the cold, knowing it would—hoping it would—!” His hands clenched closed. “If I hadn’t found her, she would be....”

Rus reached out, and Edge allowed him to pull him into the seat beside his. “i know, precious. i don’t get it either. people are fucked up.”

Edge huffed, then raised their clasped hands to his mouth, kissing Rus’ metacarpals. “I didn’t think I could still be surprised by cruelty,” he said, thumb rubbing across Rus’ metacarpals. “Considering everything I’ve seen, I really shouldn’t be. But...she can’t even defend herself. There’s nothing to gain from it. It’s completely senseless! I don’t....” He fell silent, and Rus leaned against him, tilting his head to kiss his jawbone. “You must think I’m naive.”

Rus snorted. “you? never.” He squeezed his hand. “if anything, i’m glad it still surprises you. means you’ve still got a few soft spots.”

Edge winced, shaking his hand free so he could cross his arms. Before Rus could ask him what was wrong, the tech returned with the kitten. “Here’s your little girl!” she said, “We treated her for fleas, dewormed her, and got her all vaccinated. The back of her neck might be a little sore, so be gentle with her. Keep an eye on her for any changes in behavior too—it’s not very common, but sometimes kittens can have a reaction to the vaccine.”

“Thank you.” Grimly, Edge put the kitten back in the box, ignoring her distressed cries.

At the receptionist’s counter, Edge paid with a card, but before they could leave, the woman said, “Oh! I need a name for her file?”

Before Rus could interject with something ridiculous, Edge said, “Noir.” His tone was flat and cool. “That should serve.”

She diligently typed it in and handed them a vaccination schedule and a few flyers. “Be sure to bring her back in for her boosters in a few weeks. I can actually schedule that now if you—“

“That won’t be necessary.” He turned away, but added a stiff, “Thank you,” before he left.

The receptionist blinked, but Rus leaned over and accepted the flyers and the schedule. “thanks!” He winked. “we’ll be back for her boosters; don’t worry.”

She smiled warily, glancing out the door at Edge’s retreating back. He waved at the little old lady as he left, earning another gap-toothed smile. Inside the car, Edge was sitting in the driver’s seat, the kitten in his lap and the carrier on the floor of the passenger’s side. He was petting her carefully, and she purred in response, the sound almost unpracticed. Shifting the box aside, Rus slid into the passenger seat and reached over to scratch her under the chin. “…so…noir?”

“For her color.”

“not because she’s an edgy, cynical crime drama?”

That earned a glare. He passed the kitten to Rus and said, “Put her in the carrier. We need to go to the pet store for supplies.”