#the doctor: ....bill do you remember that box with not-me stuff you found in the tardis

[halcyonfawn]

bill, emerging from the TARDIS corridors, looking horrified: doctor...

the doctor, a note of concern in his voice: yeah?

bill, wide-eyed: i found *clears throat* something in one of the rooms

the doctor, slowly approaching: ...what was it?

bill: a box

the doctor: a box?

bill: full of... *deep breath* very not-you stuff

the doctor, confused: "not-me stuff"? how'd you mean?

bill, looking everywhere but not at him: ............there were sex toys

the doctor:

bill:

bill, after a pause: listen, it's alright- i just didn't expect you- i mean- 's totally fine- just- don't leave things like that out in the open

the doctor:

the doctor, "slightly" embarrassed: ...i- i don't remember having sex- such things on me

bill: i've already seen it, there's no use in denying-

the doctor, genuinely confused: no, i mean it. i don't remember

- somewhere in space, clara's diner -

clara: *minding her own business*

clara: *remembers*

clara, leaning against the wall: shit.

[noddytheornithopod]

ask for no reason! Favourite companion for each (modern) Doctor

Let's see...

Nine: Wow, this is a really difficult one... who could there be... Rose. *remembers Jack counts* Eh, still Rose. Jack felt more like a guest companion only being in it for five episodes (only three stories), and of course I haven't listened to Big Finish so I can't judge from that, so Rose wins by default. She had the most complete relationship with the Doctor anyway, and that all worked out. I actually prefer the dynamic she has with Nine than Ten. I'm not anti-companion romance, but I just found Ten and Rose's dynamic being happier and less complicated less interesting, even if Doomsday is a massive gut punch.

Ten: For years I said it was Donna... but that's actually changed since my rewatch. I think Martha slightly edges her out. It kind of comes down to just me having a soft spot for the most underappreciated (seriously when they brought her back in Series 4 she didn't do much of note until the finale and even that's debatable) but I do really like how she basically decided she was tired of the Doctor's shit and also understandably needed a break from everything after all the shit the Master did. I hear she even gets unlucky in Torchwood.

As for why Donna got slightly bumped down... I think it's a couple things. First... revisiting the Meta-Crisis as I'm older? Kinda total bullshit. I envy kid me who was able to just run with it, now I'm just seeing total nonsense. I still love Donna... but I'm not really sure how I feel about the culmination of her self worth being basically "she absorbs the Doctor's brain so now she can be like him". Not to mention there's an absurd amount of ass pulls to make meta-crisis stuff work in the story. For other things... I think it's just that she's kind of been elevated in a way that was unncecessary? I'll explain under 14's section.

Honorary mention for Wilf I guess even if he's more a guest companion? Still loveable as ever even as growing up I now feel he has some major boomer energy lol (look I think he's pre-boomer but you get what I'm saying). Imagine him in the room with Christopher "parasite in chief" Eccleston when he's telling people to show respect for the queen for example, lol. But yeah, joking aside, it's amazing how much heart he's able to bring to being the supportive grandad of Donna.

Ugh if I listed Wilf as a guest companion but wrote about him anyway, then I'll have to also give an honourable mention to Adelaide Brooke. One episode, but she was amazing in it (it's also awesome to see the Doctor play off an older, less wide eyed woman for once), even as she had one of the darkest endings for a central character yet.

Eleven: This is a weird one, because this is what I remember the least, having watched his era the least of everyone's recently (and I didn't even see eps with Amy and Rory). Honestly... I'm not sure how much stock I put in anyone here. If I HAD to pick, I'd actually say Clara, but I think that just comes down to me loving Day of the Doctor and Jenna Coleman being great in the role even if she was just a walking mystery box in Series 7.

So why not Amy and Rory despite being actual characters here? Look, the main stuff I remember about them is basically Rory falling under the "henpecked husband" trope and Amy treating him poorly through that, not to mention you have weird stuff like them needing to get back together like three times (with Asylum of the Daleks being an especially bad example). Just not my thing.

I guess River Song could count since this was the era she'd count as a companion... but her best appearances are the episodes with Doctors that aren't Eleven (and having now seen Husbands of River Song I literally only think the final scenes are genuinely great there). Funny how that works. :v

Twelve: Nardole. Just Nardole.

...okay enough kidding around. I think I'd say Bill here. I don't really know her in and out and I haven't seen most of Series 10 in ages, but not only was it nice to see Moffat finally write a character that doesn't fall into his usual female companion tropes, but her dynamic with the Doctor was genuinely refreshing, and is honestly still pretty unique in the modern era.

I will say that I do think Clara could potentially give her competition though. I think I'd need to revisit Series 8 to be sure (aka where she's arguably the least likeable lol), but I do think her Doctor-companion dynamic is genuinely one of the most fascinating even if not everything worked in that era. Also, I'd need to see how much their relationship is able to step above the usual domestic abuse BS Moffat can't help but insert cuz he loves his dominant women, lol. Huh, Capaldi gets all the cool unique dynamics huh?

Thirteen: ...can I say Dan? For the memes? No? Fine. What's the point of being alive?

This is interesting though, cuz looking back, I do kind of think a lot of the companions blend together. It's not as bad as most say it is for sure, like I feel like they do fit specific roles (Graham and Dan as the older comic relief with a dash of heart, Ryan the more youthful person being opened up to the world, Yaz being the more experienced/accomplished person to match the Doctor when needed), but I do see why people feel like they blend together.

Hmm, if I had to pick... I'd go Yaz. Please ignore that she's a cop though. ACAB. Not sure if it's fair, but I think it might be BECAUSE she got to be with Thirteen the longest (her whole run in fact). Like, I feel like she didn't really get to live up to her full potential, but I do think seeing someone like her with her rough past going all in on the Doctor only to be shut out because Thirteen is afraid of being emotionally vulnerable (which could arguably be influenced by what happened with Clara, and I do think you could argue Yaz has some similarities here, like she even got taught how to fly the TARDIS). Her story is honestly pretty tragic, but I guess like Martha, I have a soft spot for the underappreciated (gosh it's always the companions of colour who are the underappreciated ones huh?). I think the whole semi-unrequited love aspect certainly added to that, and kind of cemented why she had to leave (even if she didn't really have much of a say, it was more just a quiet understanding, at least I think so). Power of the Doctor was also honestly a nice culmination of everything for her, too. Wish it was clear how much she knew about the Timeless Child stuff though.

Fourteen: Gosh, another really difficult one... so hard to choose... oh, Donna. Okay I'm sure some might argue Rose Noble and even Mel could count, but I don't really see them as full companions here.

I guess to continue what I was saying on Donna earlier, I described her as kind of being elevated in a way that was unnecessary. Like, after everything, as great as it was to see her back and get a happy ending... was that really the best or most interesting thing to do for her? I just can't help but feel like RTD was being overly indulgent with her, like how many felt he was with Rose (Tyler). Also... yeah, the metacrisis stuff is still bullshit. "Just let it go." I know emotions were running high in Journey's end, but come on, it makes all the drama there feel kind of hollow now.

I will say I do enjoy the evolved family dynamic though.

Fifteen: Ruby Sunday. I'd say it's super hard and there's so much to pick from, but we've seen so much, and there's so many rich complex layers, it's unlike anything we've ever seen... okay, enough kidding around. We've only seen one episode of them so far, but I am curious to see where they'll go with them.

...but wait, there's more! Time to acknowledge all the other Doctors that were created for the revival!

TimeCrash!Five: Look, he might be a bigeneration, so I'm counting him just in case... oh wait, no companions. Fuck, forget this.

TenToo: Rose! So hard to choose, I know. But isn't it cool that Rose has her own home grown Doctor she can fix again? ...what am I even saying?

Dream Lord: He's from the Doctor's brain, so he counts. Seemed to like fucking with Amy a lot, really exposed the whole love triangle she was in, lol.

Ganger!Eleven: Ganger Amy. Gangers traveling across all of time and space.

War: Clara. Day of the Doctor. Oh wait, I already mentioned that for Eleven. But I guess she kind of ended up working a lot with him specifically.

Curator: The painting. Gallifrey Falls No More. Look, I haven't listened to Big Finish, I don't know what counts. Also something something bigenerated Fourth Doctor (who also might end up being the Watcher if you subscribe to that version of bigeneration theory, like me who's trying to stay sane?).

FakeOne: That's not the First Doctor in Twice Upon a Time, that's a new incarnation who got his brain scrambled from the bigeneration reaching back in time for his first regeneration, making the side effect of him being a bad sexist parody of his original self. So who does this bigeneration have as his best companion? That one soldier dude. The Brigadier's grandpa or dad or whatever. Because they can laugh about women being made of glass. Oh right, Bill was there. Or Bill's avatar from Testimony. She had actual heartfelt moments. Or they would've been if I liked that episode. I'm committing way too hard to this bit.

Fugitive: Lee Clayton, anothe really har- Oh wait, Karvanista was one. Do you think her and Karvanista ever dated? I'm sure someone thinks Karvanista is acting like a bitter ex. Danvanista shippers, team Ruthvanista is gonna give you a run for your money!

OG Timeless Child: That kid who pushed her off the cliff. He's not just the best companion of this very first Doctor, but the best in the whole show. Without him, Tecteun would never have found out the child could regenerate, and therefore we'd have no Time Lords. And no Time Lords means no Doctor Who. This kid is the reason the show exists. Show some gratitude to this kid, guys. Also, who wouldn't push their friend off a cliff to keep playing with a toy?

The other pre-Hartnell Doctors: IDK Tecteun? Are the worth calling a companion? ...why am I still doing this

The Thirteen Doppelgangers from the Vanquishers: um how many people did she interact with, also wait it's all still one consciousness trying to manage three bodies this is a reach sorry forget i said this

The Master!Doctor: It was so great when he shouted at Yaz right? Or when Vinder held a gun to him? Oh yeah what about the Dalek and Cyber-Master perplexed at the Rasputin dance? They were still around after the Master stole the Doctor's body right?

The other bi-generated Doctors that are basically canon now that RTD is in charge: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

❛ the most beautiful part is, i wasn’t even looking when i found you. ❜

Bill/Alec

(Could be marriage vows, could be more drunken confessions, could be fluffy…. so many options.)

I still have no idea how I wanna go about doing the wedding, like, I've got the basics, but the ceremony? Naaahhhh...

But drunken confessions are always fun! Even if Hardy isn't much of a drinker cause technically people with pace makers aren't supposed to drink a lot.

But he's a little tipsy, so there ya go.

Warning: drinking, sappy love stuff

On with the fic!

--

There was no need to be drinking tonight, no celebration, no depressing moods, no awkward dinners at your coworker/best friend's house.

No, it was just a calm evening between Hardy and Bill in the latter's home here in the states. In two days, Hardy would be returning home to Broadchurch, his time here in the states was coming to an end, but Bill would follow him soon.

There were boxes packed up, this apartment (Bill's new American home since the divorce) would be empty in a few weeks, and Bill would be moving in with Hardy. It was surreal, almost felt like it was too much, too soon, but then again, Hardy didn't care.

He looked at the man on the ugly couch with him, talking about something or another, the movie they had originally been watching was long forgotten. Hardy couldn't even remember what it was and he didn't want to look at the screen, too focused on his boyfriend instead.

He sipped at the wine in his hands, it was a weak type, which he had to deal with, considering his heart condition. But he was a lightweight, always had been, so he was already feeling fuzzy after two and a half glasses. He wouldn't have more after this.

Bill, on the other hand, was on his fifth, and looked quite excited with his rosy cheeks and glassy eyes, already past tipsy. He could handle drinks better than Hardy ever could, but he hadn't drank since the beach incident, so he lost some of his tolerance.

Still, he was enjoying himself, and Hardy was half listening to the story, too busy watching Bill. How did he come to fall for a man like this, when he never really was one for taking interest in people?

"Huh? Oh, I dunno, I wonder that all the time." Bill said, and it took Hardy a minute to realize he had said that thought out loud.

"Shit." Hardy set the glass aside, alright, he's had enough for the night, no more.

"Oh, don't sound so disappointed." Bill mused, faking hurt but he wasn't doing a great job at it.

"Shut it." Hardy gave him a small kick before shift, throwing his legs up to drape across the doctor's lap.

Bill chuckled, putting his own glass aside, then laid his hands on Hardy's legs. "But seriously, I do have to wonder. You don't seem like the sort of person who would even look at me like you do now. Personally, I always thought I'd be on your 'this person is an asshole' list for the rest of my time in Broadchurch."

Hardy scoffed. "Oh, you're still on the list, but your name's on another one."

"Ah? The 'I like this man more than I probably should' list?" Bill chuckled and Hardy couldn't help the small laugh that came from him, giving the man another small kick.

"Come on, someone's gotta like you, even after everything."

Bill smiled a little more at this, looking calmer. "I suppose that's true, yeah. Only someone as annoyingly stubborn and blunt as you, DI Hardy, would ever decide that I deserve a second chance after all the shit I've done."

"Sometimes people deserve one, you know?"

The smile softened, looked a little sadder. "I guess that's true. But everything I did, it wasn't great... real bastard stuff, honestly. I mean, I could've been worse, so much worse, but cheating is still terrible."

"Hm."

"I put myself on that whole... uhh..." Bill tried to think of a word, flapping his hands about. "Exile! I put myself on that whole exile thing because I thought it would give me a chance to think over my shitty actions. Give me time to look at the bigger picture, find what I did wrong, how I can fix things with my relationships, fix myself, find..."

Again, he waved about his hands. "Find something that'll make me a better person than who I was when I realized I had fucked everything up. I gave up quickly, as soon as I got to Broadchurch, what could do me any good across the ocean if nothing in the states could do that?"

Bill paused, his attention now on Hardy, and the sadness left his face. "The most beautiful part is, I wasn’t even looking when I found you."

Hardy's eyes widened, that was so open, raw, and he had never expected to hear such a thing from someone like Bill. "I... you honestly think I make you a better person? Me?" Impossible, Hardy could barely even do that for himself.

Yet Bill was still looking at him with such soft eyes. "Well, you did something right with me."

"You're drunk."

"A little, but I'm not drunk enough to say nonsense when I know I mean this."

Hardy put his hands to his face, not wanting to look at Bill anymore. "Fuck off, you're making me feel good, disgusting." He heard a laugh at this and Hardy smiled just a little behind his hands.

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

[writersrealmbts]

A Natural: Part 5

Description: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader: You’re a single mom, and your son is your entire world. When you take him to get his first hybrid, his choice is pretty bewildering, until you realize that he was picking out a dad.

Posted: 05/24/2020

Tags: Taehyung, Hybrid Taehyung, Human Reader

Wordcount: 1,906

A/N: Oh look, another series that was never supposed to be a series. And I had to pick a new series gif because it wouldn’t show up. 

Taehyung woke you up gently, pressing kisses to your cheeks, nose and forehead.

You sighed and stretched. “Mmm, what time is it?”

“Seven,” He whispered, tilting your chin slightly so he could kiss your lips. “You said you wanted to get there early.”

You nodded. “It’s his first day of physical therapy. He was scared. Jin send any updates?”

“Haven’t checked. You okay?” He asked, feeling your forehead.

“Just tired. Always tired. I wish there was a miracle cure that I could give him. Or that I could take his pain and he could continue to be my rambunctious baby.” You buried your face in his shoulder, sighing in frustration.

The past three weeks had been exhausting. You couldn’t recall a single night where you felt like you went to bed with some scrap of mental, emotional, or physical strength. They had woken Theo up about a week and a half after he was admitted, and he had taken it well since he was still so groggy. But you hardly left his side for the first three days. The only reason you left on the fourth was because of work. You had to pay for the medical bills somehow. Now they were thinking he was healed enough to start some very minor physical therapy. He didn’t have feeling from about mid-shin down, but his brain had healed well. The doctors didn’t think there was any lasting damage now. He got the casts off of his legs and his collarbone was healed, so they were really happy with how he was recovering so far.

Taehyung spent most of his days at the hospital, and Jin and Jimin alternated nights to help you two out.

Yoongi bought you lunch most days, and visited Theo on the weekends. Bringing movies to binge and board games to play.

Theo always perked up when Yoongi got there on Saturday morning.

Namjoon brought Hoseok whenever the two didn’t have too much work, and he would bring in music stuff—instruments or tracks—to entertain Theo.

Theo loved Namjoon’s music visits, just as he loved music class the most.

Hoseok still had to catch up on some grading, and recovering his class from a week with a substitute teacher on top of his own bit of physical therapy for his leg injury. He still obviously felt guilty, but he also helped Theo learn things he was missing in class. He had told you that the kids would ask after Theo, and they even sent in get-well-soon cards.

Theo kept saying he couldn’t wait to go back to school.

Jimin drew cartoons on Theo’s casts before they were removed and Theo loved them so much that he insisted Jimin teach him how to draw, and now there were drawings everywhere.

Taehyung kissed your collarbone. “Hey, you okay?”

“Just…waking up.” You curled into him.

He chuckled sleepily. “No, you’re not.”

“Are you telling me that you’re awake?”

He gave a sleepy sounding hum. “Not really, but I know we need to get up.”

You nodded, yawning into his chest and then rolling away from him and getting up in one movement.

“Hey, Jimin texted me to call him,” Taehyung said, frowning at his phone.

You sighed. “It probably has something to do with his parents. You better call him.”

He made an almost growling sound at the mention of Jimin’s parents—who had been a continual pain in the ass through this whole process—but he calls Jimin.

You don’t pay attention much while he talks to Jimin, getting ready for the day, and only noticing that something was wrong when Taehyung growls again.

He’s pacing along his side of the bed, not saying anything but there’s a steady growl in his throat. “He starts his therapy today!”

You flinch when he scoffs, and worry fills you at the frown creasing his forehead.

“What am I supposed to tell Y/n, Jiminie?!”

“I’d suggest the truth if you want everyone to live,” You said, eyes narrowed.

He looked up and gulped. “Can I make him explain it?”

You were already in front of him, taking the phone. “What’s going on?”

“My parents…they caused a scene here and the doctors decided to reschedule his physical therapy…since my parents ordered a DNA test.” Jimin sounded apologetic.

“What do they expect to get from a DNA test?” You asked, feeling bile rise in your throat.

“I don’t know, but I’m on top of it, they won’t make a move I don’t know about. I’ll stay with him all day, okay?”

“Jimin, why did they order a DNA test?”

He was quiet, and you heard him huff out a breath. “Because they want to see if he’s actually who we claim and maybe add him to their will if he is,” He said, sounding frustrated.

“Which means they’d try to take him away from me?”

“Possibly. If you didn’t want to comply with their standards.”

“Which I won’t.” You glared at the wall. “Your family sucks.”

“I know. It’s probably better if you stay away, though, that’ll delay things because they need your permission to do the DNA testing.”

You froze. “But—”

“I’ll keep her away,” Tae said, loud enough to be heard, and taking the phone. “Call us if Theo needs her.”

You stared in disbelief as he said goodbye to Jimin and then hung up.

He looked back at you. “It’s for the best, anyway. You’re exhausted.”

“I can’t sleep, not now,” You argued.

“There’s more than just physical exhaustion,” He rebutted, then leaned in and kissed you. “He’s safe with friends. Yoongi will be there later today, with Namjoon and Jimin, just like they planned and they’ll play games with Theo.”

“I barely ever there—”

“You practically live there,” He cut you off with a whine. “Please, I know you’re tired. I know. It’s been a really hard month. But Theo’s being looked after really well. All of the nurses adore him because he’s so sweet and polite. It’s time to take care of yourself.”

You tilted your head, at a loss for words.

He stepped closer, and arms wrapping around your waist after he tossed the phone onto the bed. His lips met yours softly. “It’s time to forget you’re a mom for a few minutes. Just…be you. Be who you were before you were a mom.”

“I don’t know who that is,” You whispered.

“Then just be the person you are with me,” He whispered back, voice low and deep.

You sighed and surrendered to him, allowing him to pull you into a series of lingering kisses.

“Dress up a bit, lets go out.” He murmured, tail swooshing behind him. “Or, well…let’s go for a picnic.”

You stepped back slightly, uncertain.

“Please, Y/n. We both need to let go for a while.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

And you gave in, nodding. “Okay, but…I don’t know…I don’t want to deal with other people.”

“Then we’ll have a picnic in the backyard. You get ready, and I’ll go get things set up and then if you could make us sandwiches?”

You nodded.

“Then we’ll have a nice little date,” He said, grinning at you as his fingers brushed your cheek. Then his shoulders scrunched happily with his face and he practically skipped out of the room. “Remember, wear pretty clothes!”

“O-okay…” You called back, then frowned at your closet door. “I don’t know if I have anything?”

You went into your closet, looking for something pretty that was also middling between casual and Easter Sunday high teas that you used to go to at your grandmother’s senior home while she was alive.

Instead you found frustration and work clothes. Some clothes you might wear to parent-teacher conferences, or to one of the school events.

But the only date-like thing you found in your closet was from before Theo was conceived and you weren’t about to try that on. You knew how your body had changed since then and didn’t need the reminder from your closet. You’d sort of squeezed into it the last time you’d worn it anyway, and you had more hip now.

Sure, you probably had more clothes in that box, but you knew most of the clothes in ther

Taehyung came back when you had been in there for too long. “What’s wrong?”

“No clothes,” You muttered. “Nothing to wear.”

He tilted his head, then came over to look through your clothes. He pulled out a sweater and a skirt, handing them to you. “It’s a little cold outside, so maybe leggings?”

You looked over the outfit and then at him, surprised. “Um…yeah…okay.”

He nodded and walked out. “I’ll make sandwiches!”

You heard your bedroom door close, and started changing. You were surprised at how well he managed to find an outfit for you, but then again, he dressed so well himself, even on a minimal budget.

And it was a nice, casual date outfit.

You did your hair a little, and your makeup a little more. Actually put on earrings and a necklace.

Taehyung was plating sandwiches, making things look nice.

You looked outside in surprise. “It’s raining?”

He looked out as well. “Yeah. It just started. But we can still have a picnic. It’ll just have to be a living room picnic. I already cleared the space and….” He trailed off when he looked at you. His expression softened and he smiled. “Wow, y/n. You look so beautiful.”

You could have blushed, and you might have blushed from the way he was looking at you. “It’s been a while.”

“You always look beautiful,” He added, sincerity in all of his features and gestures. He took your hands in his, tail slowly swishing. “Thank you for agreeing to do this with me.”

You nodded, looking at the ground, unable to meet his gaze.

“Ooh, can I put a fire in the fireplace?”

You nodded again, stealing glanced at him as he excitedly went to turn on the gas fireplace.

Then he dimmed the lights some, and finished arranging blankets and pillows.

“Alright, I think that covers it, sorry we’re only having sandwiches.”

“I can live with sandwiches,” You replied softly, letting him lead you over to sit in the picnic area. You got comfortable while he hurried back to get the plate of sandwiches. You didn’t know your living room could feel so romantic.

He brought over the food and drinks on the bed-tray, setting it down. “It’s just grape juice, but I thought the glasses made it feel more romantic.”

You smiled. “Does. I didn’t even know the living room could look like this.”

He grinned. “We should make it look like this more often.”

You laughed a little.

He kept your laughing a little as the two of you ate, telling you stories and drawing stories of your family out.

You moved the tray and sat beside him, leaning on his shoulder.

He was still for a moment before relaxing into it. He kissed your forehead, then kept telling you about a movie he had seen.

You stared into the fire, listening to his voice. It was so soothing, so wonderfully perfect.

His lips met yours softly, then parted to lightly brush your cheeks. “I love you, y/n.”

You sighed happily, eyes staying shut. “I love you, Taehyung.”

Previous.  Next.

Taehyung Masterpost.  Masterlist.  

Taglist (must comment on taglist to be tagged from now on)

Tagging: @rosita7703, @ephemeral-mindset @forvever-ddaeng  @ncttzuuy @givebuckysomelove @alex--awesome--22  @missmoxxiesworld  @bryvada @knjhe  @i-dont-even-know-fck @young-yellkie @veryuniquenamegoeshere @lottohsehunnie​ @briramirezalipio​ 

Unable to tag: @bunnyboyenthusiast (think you changed to @kthstrawberryshortcake​ please let me know if I’m wrong or right because I have you listed for multiple stories)

[lambourngb]

This Hard Choice

Fic prompt: “I don’t want you to go.” set before THIS HARD LIFE and THIS HARD JOURNEY - an AU after the shed, set sometime after the moment in 2x05. Alex doesn’t join the Air Force. I’m writing these each day- so thankfully I didn’t have to work today because this “ficlet” is 3,600 words. This is finished on Ao3 here.

****

The careful crunch of loose gravel and abrasive echo of a skateboard stopping on the rough pavement let Michael know that his attempt to avoid Alex had failed. 

Parking down by Spring River, not far from where the concrete shelter of the Atkinson Ave overpass sported some of the late Rosa Ortecho’s graffiti murals, would have been an excellent place to hide from everyone in his life but Alex. It was insane to think that in such a short time, Michael had basically shared all of his favorite spots with him, from the private desert escape on a cut back gravel road not far from the crash site to the places in town when Michael couldn’t spare the fuel to drive far, like Loveless Park or the back acres of wrecked and salvaged cars at Sander’s Auto.

He would care more about his failure in evading Alex if he wasn’t so currently high.

Old man Sanders had let him crash on the couch last night with Rusty, his dog, and then left him the next morning with scrambled eggs and a small paying job of cleaning out the machinery tools used for alignment repairs. “Gotta use that MEK shit on it, it smells awful, so it’s a perfect job for you, kid, only need the one hand to clean the threads,” Sanders had instructed nodding to his bandaged hand as he handed over a pair of twenty dollar bills with a metal canister of solvent.

The money put gas in the truck and the leftover solvent was carefully hoarded for an experiment. Even with Michael’s careful handling of his make-shift cast while he worked on the task, he still finished having jarred the break one too many times.

Blue, cloudless sky stretched above him, keeping him warm and comfortable with a rare full stomach of breakfast. It was the perfect time, with his hand pulsing in unceasing agony, to test his theories about the effects other solvents had on his body outside of pain killing effects of acetone. There wasn’t much to lose, he reasoned darkly as he drank two quick swallows of MEK and laid back on his sleeping bag waiting for the effects to kick in, for better or worse.

Acetone reduced pain to a soft buzz in the background, like a gnat circling on the edges of his periphery. This solvent made him feel like the gnat, flying wildly through the negative space. 

Negative space, he mused with his eyes closed. That fit with close-tailored accuracy to his future prospects.

“Guerin, hey, Guerin!”

Right. Alex was here. Alex had found him. He was trying to avoid Alex for some reason. He couldn’t remember why at the moment as he opened his eyes to Alex’s handsome worried face. Christ, he was beautiful. Those eyebrows were bridged together though, closing the distance. Michael wanted to be that in the moment. A bridge, not a chasm. Not the negative space.

A warm, soft hand caressed Michael’s face, bringing his fluttering attention back to Alex’s. Sometime in between his thoughts, Alex had clambered up into the truck bed to sit next to him. The hint of amusement in his dark eyes won out over concern, “Are you just really high right now?”

“Yeah, super high,” Michael breathed, smiling broadly before moving to make room for Alex next to him.

Alex pursed his lips together, taking in a deep inhale of the surrounding air, “I don’t smell pot-”

“Not pot, something better.”

The concern and alarm was back as Alex started to pull away from Michael’s clumsy hold and look around the truck bed. “Like what, like, meth or OXY?”

“‘S fine, don’t worry, ‘kay?” Michael wrinkled his nose at the movements, and patted the space on his chest with his right hand. “Come lay back down, okay?”

“No, not okay, you need to tell me what you took so if you start to O.D. I can tell the hospital how to treat you-” 

The talk of a hospital cut through the fog. Michael pushed himself up with his good hand, before reaching to still Alex’s searching through the discarded blankets around him. Thankfully the discarded canister of MEK was in the cab of the truck with the contents of his pharmacy robbery, the box of nail polish remover and clean bandages. “No hospitals ever, okay? I’m fine, I promise. It was just… um, OXY like you said.” 

Staring in Michael’s eyes, Alex paused, still concerned and wary. “How much did you take?”

“Like two pills, and um, it wasn’t even off label, okay?” Michael raised his left hand, the dirty ragged cast punctuating the need. Like it had every time before, the reminder of that night in the shed sent a wave of shame and regret over Alex’s face. An effective subject killer, but it still pained Michael to use it. “Before you ask, I got the pills from Isobel. Her mom had dental surgery so they were left over. I didn’t rob the pharmacy for drugs.”

“I know.”

“You know?” While the rock-solid belief was nice, that wasn’t a part of his experience. 

Dropping his gaze down to Michael’s sloppy cast, Alex shrugged. “I overheard Jim Valenti telling my dad about the robbery, no drugs or money were stolen. Just beauty supplies and first aid stuff. It’s getting dismissed as kid type vandalism, not evidence of a drug cartel in Roswell.”

“That’s good.” Finally, news that brought relief to Michael, instead of increasing the heavy weight of dread in his chest. He started to lay back down on his sleeping bag and this time Alex followed, removing his keys and wallet from his jean pockets. Resting his face against Michael’s chest, his warm breath cutting easily through the thin cotton t-shirt, the argument was now forgotten between them as they took comfort in the closeness.

The high from the MEK was slowly fading, tiptoeing from his veins like a thief in the night. The echoing ache of his hand started up, the footfalls of sensation, getting closer and louder as the afternoon wore on until it was time for another bottle of acetone to chase it away. At least he knew the other solvent wouldn’t kill him, whatever that was worth.

“I looked it up, Roswell has a free clinic on Main if it’s about money-”

Not this fight again. It was his least favorite one, after the scholarship to UNM. Michael kept his voice soft, even though a surge of impatience tightened his throat.  “Alex, I can’t, okay? I can’t go to the free clinic because people are going to ask questions.”

“My dad deserves to get punished for what he did-” Alex lifted his eyes up to Michael’s from where he was tucked against Michael’s side.

“Not just about what happened. First question they ask is about ID, okay? And the address on my ID is two foster dicks ago. I can’t risk it. Attention from the authorities has never brought me anythin’ good.” Michael reached to stroke his fingertip over the renewed worried line on Alex’s face, “I know you think it should just be easy, like seeing a doctor, or going to UNM even though my scholarship only covers tuition and housing, not food, or gas, or school supplies outside of books.”

Alex frowned in response, “I’m not naive, Michael, I know all of that.”

“Yeah? Do you know how expensive it is to be homeless?” Pride nearly stopped that admission to Alex, but he was tired of fighting with the one person that seemed to care about him. “It’s ironic, but it’s true. No address, no bank account, but at least I’m finally eighteen with a high school diploma, so I can have a fighting chance at taking a cheap retail job to serve the tourists. ‘Cause right now my budget covers gas for my truck, food, and paying to use the truck stop showers out by Cowboy Ruckus twice a week, so I’m not shown the door as soon as I show up somewhere.” Michael had to shut his eyes to keep from seeing pity on Alex’s face. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand the ins and outs of how well the system protected everyone who worked within it but no one that stood on the outside.

It reminded him why he was avoiding Alex today in the first place. 

Last night Alex had seen him at the Wild Pony. At Ranchero Night. While Alex was there to help Maria and her mother, the assistant manager of the bar and restaurant to host the outreach night, Michael had no other reason for showing except for the obvious one. He was hungry and the grudgingly offered program by Old Fred that Mimi Deluca spearheaded meant he was going to get a full belly of hot warm food with no questions asked.

The stories behind his favorite parking spots in downtown Roswell weren’t romantic discoveries to share with Alex, they all revolved around proximity to safety and soup kitchens. Even showing up too many times at a particular food bank carried risk, from other men who lived rough. The fights that happened between prime sleeping spots, between two people comparing their nothing with less than nothing, spun up quickly. It was ugly, dangerous and Michael’s telekinesis could only keep him safe up to a point.

“And sometimes I go places where there’s free food and no questions. Like Ranchero night.” There was no disguising how hard his heart was pounding under Alex’s ear, but Michael could concentrate on keeping his breathing steady as he waited fearfully for his response. Finally, unable to stay quiet, Michael ventured, “still want to be with me?”

Alex lifted his head, biting his lip briefly. Slowly, with a mindful eye on Michael’s cast, he shifted closer to kiss Michael’s mouth gently. “I didn’t realize how hard things were, um, I’m glad you told me. I wish it didn’t take me seeing you at the Wild Pony for you to tell me.”

“You’ve got your own shit with your dad at home. At least I know my truck is safe, you don’t have that luxury.” It was something that Michael couldn’t help but worry about every night since the shed when he wasn’t worrying about Isobel. The level of violence and the comfort that Jesse Manes had in using that against his own son, while it shouldn’t have shocked a veteran of Child and Family Services, it did. Every night Alex went home to that. 

“It hasn’t been bad since that night, but I’m dodging my dad as much as I can. He’s probably just waiting until I’m 18.”

“Waiting for what?”

It was Alex’s turn to evade as he laid soft, suckling kisses down Michael’s throat. Michael chased at Alex’s lips, threading his fingers through the fading evidence of the black hair dye warring with the summer bleaching. They traded long, deep kisses, the heat of arousal building layers over the question until it slipped from view unanswered.

*** 

Michael walked confidently down the halls of the Roswell Travellodge toward the back stairs. The key to trespassing was to act as naturally as possible and hope he didn’t run into someone who knew him. Using the free ice machine in the various motels around town to stock up his small cooler was just one of the many life hacks he picked up since striking out on his own at sixteen.

His face was still throbbing from the lucky hit that jackass got in earlier after Michael had picked up dinner at the Ministries of Light community event. Someone felt like Michael needed to pay the unofficial cover to partake in the meal, and Michael had flipped off the guy, because every year on this planet had taught him how to treat a bully. A bully always has friends, and walking back late at night with a full stomach meant he hadn’t noticed his crowd of ‘admirers’ until they had him surrounded just a block from his truck. 

Thankfully between rolling a dumpster with his telekinesis and his fast retreat, he made it to safety with only the slowly swelling eye as a souvenir.

It had been at least three days since he had last crashed at Sanders, long enough to impose again on the old man’s couch. Michael finished filling his cooler with ice, wrapping a cold chunk in a discarded t-shirt to press against his face, and drove toward the auto yard with a plan in mind. Maybe the old man needed Michael to fix something. His left hand had improved enough now to move from awkward plaster to a drug-store brace, leaving some of his fingers free for more dexterous work. 

His headlights picked up a vague flash of movement just outside the office of the auto yard. Mindful of Rusty the dog, Michael slowed his approach to a crawl until he realized the movement wasn’t the yard dog, but Alex.

Michael swung out of the truck quickly, dropping the wrapped ice on the seat. Alex being here, unannounced, could only be trouble related to Jesse. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Straightening up from his seat in front of the office, whatever Alex was going to say originally abruptly vanished as he caught sight of Michael’s face under the wavering beam of the security lights. “What the hell happened to your eye?” 

Belated he reached up to touch his face, and joked, “A fight, but you should see the other guy. Or guys. I think it was at least four on one. But I’m okay.”

The bruise must have been more impressive than Michael realized because Alex just paled in response. Agitated Alex crossed his arms in front, turning half away as he rubbed his hands bare of jewelry against his forearms. “What the hell am I doing?” he asked himself quietly. 

“Alex?” Michael stepped closer, fear dropping his stomach downward in nausea. It was a dark survivor’s thought, but it would be a shameful waste to get sick now after a good meal. “Are you okay? Is it your dad?”

“I’m turning 18 tomorrow,” Alex replied in a non sequitur quietly. 

It didn’t sound like a joyous thing to reach the age of legal adulthood for Alex. “Happy birthday?” 

“My dad- listen, it’s never really been a choice okay? I’ve known it for as long as I can remember. I mean, fuck, I have to sign on my own, he can’t do it for me, but he might as well hold the pen in my hand.”

Michael wasn’t stupid. He knew enough about Alex’s family, his brothers, that the expectation of military service was less of a question and more of an accepted fact. He also knew Alex, who Alex was, and that was not a soldier of any kind. All of his reasoned arguments against this action jumbled in Michael’s throat, until the only thing that burst forward was inane words, “but you’re gay though, you can’t enlist!”

Huffing a tired sigh, Alex smiled sadly, “there are gay people every branch of the services, Michael. They just have to hide. My dad… my dad expects this of me. To join, to hide, to be...to be a Manes Man finally.”

“You can’t, you just can’t-” he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, breathing through his nose as he fought the nausea again. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go either.” Alex reached for Michael’s face, keeping his touch light over the hot swelling bruise. The mark on Michael’s face seemed to deepen the grief in Alex’s eyes. “It’s never been a choice for me.”

“It can be. It can be a choice, if you just tell him no.”

“He would kill me.”

“The Air Force is just as capable of killing you too.” Michael reached up to guide Alex’s hand down to press against his chest, letting the wild beat of his pulse thrum against Alex’s palm. This boy, this kind and beautiful boy, brought the spark of life to all of the lost and deliberately discarded opportunities in Michael’s life. The thought of Alex being shuffled off to that same, colorless existence that he was stuck in after lighting Rosa Ortecho’s car on fire, threatened to break something in him. “Cutting yourself off from who you are, it changes you, and it’s not a good change. Please don’t do this to yourself.” 

Instead of responding, Alex looked back at the dark office of Sanders Auto behind them. “I don’t have to be home tonight, Sarge is letting me have one last night of freedom, so is it okay if I stay with you?”

“It’s an ancient couch I share with the dog,” Michael warned, licking his dry lips in response. At Alex’s nod, he led Alex over by the hand to the customer keys drop box and mailbox. After a moment he fished the key out from the hideaway safe and unlocked the office door. 

One last night together as innocent kids before the hard choices had to be made.

***

The next day, Michael ignored his schedule, the scratched out decisions that kept him functioning and moving with one foot in front of the other. Instead of partaking the truck stop shower or heading for laundry day the Evanes, as Ann and Bob always did a late brunch at their club, he instead decided to join Max for his thrice weekly coffee stalking of Arturo Ortecho. 

The scent of Alex was still all over him after he slept soundly on top of Michael, the only way to share that narrow couch. Rusty the dog had to settle with wedging his way between their legs and the less said of the amused look on old man Sanders face when he discovered them that morning, the better. 

Alex’s probably finished signing his life away at this point, Michael reminded himself.

“Jeez, he looks like such a tool,” Max commented, breaking into the cycle of Alex-related thoughts abruptly. Michael turned to look out the window of the Crashdown to see Kyle Valenti beaming and gesticulating excitedly in front of a new red Camaro. Both his parents, in uniform already for work, were watching their son proudly, arm in arm. “I don’t know how the Valentis raised a jerk like Kyle.”

Nice parents, nice car, nice life ahead of him for school as rumor had it that Kyle was headed to Michigan, and it was clear from Michael’s eyes the guy had no appreciation of the privileged ease of his life. All of that love and support in his life, only for Kyle Valenti to use it to bully people. Bully Alex. 

Anger was never far behind these days for Michael, his ever-present cellmate as he served his time for Isobel’s crimes. It swelled inside him, as the sun sparkled off the hubcaps and dazzled the eyes of onlookers from that deep cherry red car. Red like Rosa’s lipstick. Red like Liz’s prom dress. Red like the blood after the hammer dropped.

“Yeah, Jim Valenti deserves better.” That was Alex’s voice. 

Michael jerked his head away from the window to find Alex standing next to their booth. He had to be dreaming. Alex was supposed to be at a recruiter’s office, losing his freedom and all evidence of his personality right now, probably getting the remnants of that emo black hair dye job buzzed off at the barber. 

Except he wasn’t. Alex’s hair was still long and shaggy, brown sun-lightened locks spilling over his warm dark eyes. His earring and septum plug were back in, along with his jewelry. A lot of jewelry actually. Like maybe all of the jewelry Alex owned. Resting at his feet was a heavy duffle bag, the seams straining under the force of clothing packed inside. 

“Alex.” 

Shyly, Alex looked over at Max back to him, “Michael. It’s good to see you guys hanging out together again.”

“Alex.” Stupidly Michael kept staring at Alex, as if he was going to disappear if he blinked. “You’re here. You’re- you’re actually here, you didn’t-?”

Max creased his forehead, watching Michael completely unravel before him. “I kinda feel like I’m missing something here?”

“Alex Manes,” Alex held out his hand to Max jokingly, a small smile on his lips. He took a deep, audible breath and continued more seriously, “the disowned son of Master Sergeant Manes, currently homeless, and um, also Michael’s boyfriend.”

“Disowned?” 

“I had a choice, joining the Air Force or getting kicked out of the family. And um, so I’m going to be crashing on Maria’s couch for a while, just until I can save up-” Alex’s explanation was abruptly silenced as Michael launched himself from the booth toward him. His bag hit the ground as Alex wrapped both arms around Michael tightly. 

The patrons of the café faded into the background as Michael pressed his suddenly wet eyes into Alex’s neck. “Oh, thank god, you didn’t go.”

“I never wanted to go, okay?” Slowly Alex drew away a few inches, keeping his gaze on Michael’s face. His eyes narrowed at the bruise still blackening Michael’s eye, “and the choice wasn’t hard, when I realized it was you I was choosing. You gotta pick me too, okay? No more fights or robbing drug stores, I can deal with a lot, I know this won’t be easy being together but I can’t deal with violence. You gotta try, Michael.”

“Yes, yes, deal.” Aware of Max’s growing distrustful gaze, Michael ignored it. That could be their next fight with his brother after the subject of Isobel had been worn out, whether being close to someone human constituted a threat to their safety. Right now, the hard choice between their secret and Alex, didn’t have to be made yet. 

[perriewinklenerdie]

Monopoly (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! Guess who just finished her exams! I’ve had this one written for a couple of days and now that I’m finally free, I’m not feeling guilty spending my time away from books :D

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885750

Tag list:   @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h

Enjoy! <3

----------

„You want me to do what?” he asked, leaning back against the back of the couch, finishing his glass of water. Claire’s eyes sparkled with a faint resemblance of mischief. Before she could answer, the doorbell rang, announcing their food being delivered. She squeezed his knee, standing up to pay for the dinner. Her hand reached for her wallet, but at the same moment she heard Ethan clear his throat and their conversation from a couple weeks ago flashed in her mind.

“I know how much money you have, and I know how much money I have. You have better things to spend it on, so please, don’t fight me on this.” He said, pushing her card away and giving the cashier his own. She tried to argue but was met with a stern look that told her that trying would be futile.

She paid for their food, thanking the delivery person, then closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Shaking the box in her hand, she grinned at his annoyed face.

“I can’t believe you’re making me eat pizza on a weeknight.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s good and you know it. You may try to hide it, but I saw how your eyes lit up when the bell rang.” Nodding her head, she placed the box on the coffee table, then padded to the kitchen for two plates. Ethan’s eyes never left her, his gaze leaving a pleasantly warm trail down her back. She turned her head to wink at him, causing his cheeks to take on a slightly pink color.

“To answer your question, I’m hungry. My reaction had nothing to do with pizza.” His voice wavered slightly when he tried to deny his real intentions.

“Sure, you liar.” She giggled, kissing his cheek playfully, then reaching for the first slice hastily. The steam was practically pouring out of the box, the temperature hot enough to cause some damage.

“You’re going to burn your fingers.” Ethan pointed out, taking a slice himself, carefully and with precision. She burst out laughing, shaking her head at him before she took a bite. “And now you’re going to burn your mouth too.”

She took a moment to chew and swallow the food before throwing him a mocking look, throwing her hair behind her shoulder with her wrist, careful not to get grease on her blonde strands. “Bold of you to assume that my fingers and mouth are not used to the temperature. I’m a student, I basically survive on stuff like this. I’m a pro at handling hot things like that at this point.”

A smirk grew on his lips, taking over all his features, his eyes sparking brightly. He leaned forwards, tucking a curl, that fell onto her forehead, behind her ear, then taking her face in his hands and bringing her closer to him. “Handling hot things, you say. Should I be jealous?”

“You’re the hottest one, Doctor Ramsey.” Her giggle filled his mind, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. When he closed his eyes, he could see her, very clearly, with brilliant eyes and a wide smile that could light up the world.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” His voice was low and tender when he whispered against her lips. This close to her, he felt her body shaking in a silent laugh that slowly but surely took over her entire frame. “Am I amusing you?”

“No, it’s just that… you’re not even looking at me, how can you know if I’m beautiful?”

“I don’t need to look at you to see you. You’re here.” He took her hand, pressing a slow kiss to her wrist, then placed it on the side of his head. “And here.” He moved her hand over the place where his heart was. “It’s been that way for a while now.”

Claire looked at him for a long while, trying to decipher what his eyes hid. They were so close that it would only take one small move and their lips would meet. Another move, a slightly bigger one, and she could kiss the place where her hand currently was. A much more meaningful move. The right move. Looking into his eyes for as long as their bodies allowed them to, she slowly leaned forward, taking her hand away and pressing her lips to the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the material. Breathing in the barely-there scent of his cologne, almost gone after a whole day at work, she allowed herself a moment of tranquility before leaning back, pressing their lips together in a single, heart stopping kiss. Upon leaning away from her, he could see her grinning, looking just a bit too suspiciously malicious.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Remember what I asked you before the food came in?” she asked, sitting more comfortably by his side, running her fingers up and down his arm like she was trying to seduce him. He shook his head sternly.

“Hell no, we’re not playing Monopoly.”

“Ethan.”

“I mean it, Claire, I’m not playing any stupid game.” He shook his head again, shifting away from her as she came a bit closer to him.

“Play Monopoly with me.”

“No.”

“Play Monopoly with me.” she repeated herself, inching closer and closer to him, but he was still reluctant.

“No.”

“Ethan.” Muttering his name, she threw her leg over his thighs, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing the two of them close again. “Play Monopoly with me.”

He tried not to bend under her intense stare, tried to resist her, tried not to let her get her way, but if he learned anything about himself while being in a relationship with her, it was the fact that he found it ridiculously hard to say ‘no’ to her. “…damn it. Fine.”

Ethan, at that precise moment, decided, that there was no way that he wasn’t under some sort of a spell of hers. She grinned like a child, then clapped her hands like a child, and then practically skipped off to get the game, like a child, and the most bizarre thing was, there was not even a sliver of annoyance in his whole being. He just… accepted her as she was, for all that she was, and from the way she looked at him, he had a feeling she did the same for him.

While she set up the game, he cleaned up after their dinner and got them both a glass of wine. Sitting on the blanket opposite her, the board between them, he wondered for the last time if there was any chance for him to get out of this. One look from her and he already got his answer.

“Are we playing for something?” she asked, taking a sip of wine, looking at him from beneath her lashes, smiling into her glass.

“Got anything on your mind?”

“Nothing really.”

“You’re lying.” He called her out on it, the corners of his lips going up slightly. “What do you want?”

“… If I win, you take a few of those leave days you hog so preciously and get away from town with me.” it almost seemed as though she was embarrassed to be asking him to ditch his job and go somewhere with her. There was no way for her to know how much he liked that idea. He nodded, deep in thought as he tried to come up for something for himself in the case of him winning.

“If I win… you spend four nights a week here instead of two.”

Claire started staying the night a few months ago, and while at first it was occasional, it has become some sort of a habit for them, and now they had an agreement for her to stay with him two nights every week.

“Deal.” They shook on it and started the game.

As usually in any game of Monopoly, the beginnings were slow. Ethan preferred chess, if only for the sole reason of the game not taking forever to pick up speed and not taking eternity to finish. Claire didn’t mind the amount of time it took to play, and she wouldn’t say that Monopoly is her favorite game, but it gave her the perfect opportunity to see how Ethan would handle it, it was just too good of a chance to pass up on.

Truth be told, she kind of expected him to be excellent at it, and he really was. It definitely had something to do with him being smart about his decisions, and combined with just a bit of luck, it resulted in him buying out almost all of the most expensive properties.

“Two houses on the second navy spot.” He said slowly, throwing a pile of fake bills onto the middle of the board for her to put in the bank. She huffed, annoyed, put away the money and handed him two green blocks. Their hands brushed against one another, just enough for the familiar spark to pass through them.

Two hours, many fake transactions and a lot of houses and hotels later, Claire was basically bankrupt. On the edge of either losing or giving up, all it took for Ethan to destroy her was for her to stop at one of his properties and she would be dead. As it turned out, game had different plans for the two of them, and when it was Ethan’s turn, her threw a 6, which resulted in him having another move after the first one. His first six steps landed him on one of the hotels Claire owned, which caused him to give her a rather prominent amount of money from his ridiculously enormous pile of fake cash.

“You do know how close to death you were, right?” he teased her, taking the dices into his hands to roll them again.

“Play the game, Ramsey.”

Another 6, another move for the Doctor. His eyes widened as he saw his hand stop at another red hotel of Claire’s. She bit her lip, trying not to burst out laughing.

“This one is going to cost you.” she mused, showing him the amount on the card. He grumbled but gave her the money without a single word. She placed the dices into his open hands, watching the situation with a shallow breath. As the final number of spaces he’d have to move got revealed, she gave up trying and started laughing. Ethan looked at the dices incredulously, then at Claire, back at the board and at Claire again.

“I told you that game is stupid.” He threw the words out of his mouth, pushing himself away from the board. Claire leaned towards him but he leaned back.

“I didn’t know you were such a sore loser.” She taunted him, folding her arms across her chest with a smirk.

“I’m not! It’s just ridiculous! How is it that I’m winning, winning, calculating my every move, and then three rolls of dice and I’m out like light!” he exclaimed in anger, throwing the dice into the box and missing.

The final part of the game began: the argument. It seemed like there was no way to avoid it, as there always was a losing party. Claire tried to reason with him, but he was riled up, which in turn got her mad, and after a few minutes they were having a full argument over something so trivial as Monopoly.

“Why are you so insistent on not letting it go? It’s just a game!”

“Because I love you, god damnit!” he exclaimed, looking straight into her eyes. He didn’t plan on telling her how he felt like that, even though she may have already been suspecting that. Her green eyes sparked in surprise, silence falling over them, filling the room to the brim.

“You… love me?” she managed to whisper, her cheeks flushing furiously.

“Of course I do.” His voice broke a little, pouring all that he had, all that he was, into his words, his actions.

She nodded, looking at him intensely, then reached forward and yanked the board to the side, spilling the money, the houses and hotels, the cards and pawns all over the floor. Before he could protest, she crawled towards him, straddling him once again, taking his face in her hands. Her index fingers brushed against the undersides of his ears, using another point of contact to haul him onto her as their lips met in a fervent kiss that stole the breath from his lungs. His hands traced their path up her thighs, along the lines of her hips and waist before settling on the shoulder blades, pressing her body into his so they aligned.

Claire tilted back slightly, taking him with her, and he followed her suit, covering her body with his, retracing his hands’ movements down her sides, gripping the underside of her knee, keeping himself above her with his other arm. Her fingers tangled into the locks on the back of his head, hanging onto them like her very existence depended on it as he devoured her neck with kisses and soft bites, skimming his teeth along the line formed by her collarbones, prominently visible in the low lights of his living room. A breathless moan escaped her lips, echoing in the empty space of his apartment, carried along the sounds of his heavy breathing, one of many indications of how much of an influence she had on him.

She guided him back to her lips, kissing him slowly, gently, lovingly. Almost sweetly. He smiled into the kiss before breaking it, allowing them both to catch a breath. His arms wrapped tightly around her as he pulled her onto him, laying them both down on the floor. Claire leaned up on her elbow to make their eyes meet.

“I love you too.” She whispered, falling back into his embrace, nuzzling her nose against his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. She could feel him take a relieved breath, his muscles losing the tension that was there just mere seconds ago, instead leaving him with a blissful peace.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.” He looked down at her, bringing her close to him again, looking at her lips with something slightly darker in them.

“I think I do.” She grinned, pressing their lips together for a moment before falling into his embrace once more. Her fingers wandered the planes of his chest, tracing intricate patterns with her fingertips as they talked, late into the night.

“You know, the game never got a clear winner.” She said, turning her head upwards to look at him. “I can stay four nights here if you want.”

“And I will take you away from here for a few days. Sounds like exactly something we need. Besides, that much time with you and your full attention? What else could I ask for?” he looked at the ceiling as he spoke, then looked down at her, grinning sheepishly. She pressed a kiss to his chest, shaking her head at his words.

The calmness around them was like a sleeping potion, pulling them away from the state of conscience and away from the world they lived in, straight into the land of dreams. Right before they fell asleep, she asked with humor in her voice.

“So… you didn’t want to admit defeat because you love me? Is that a rule?”

“Don’t count on it.”

[docstark]

Ignite (Avengers/Bucky Barnes Fanfiction) Chapter 2 - He Would Have Liked You

<<Previous Chapter

So this chapter is jumping staying in Doctor Stark's story and will slowly move into the more of a Bucky fanfiction. It's kind of my running story.

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of 18+ activities lol

----------

I managed to get control of my power and I made gauntlets so that I wasn’t getting massive internal arm injuries from the vibrations (Agent Coulson said that I probably used the last bit of vibranium that SHIELD had but as Fury didn’t want me to have broken arms…)

Long story short, my brother is Iron Man, I have powers, Captain America was found, and now after some thawing, a freak out in New York where he was taken to wake up in, Steve Rogers himself is now my patient….kind of. (I’m not a practicing doctor)

“I feel like we’ve met,” he said after a long silence.

“In a way we have,” I said as I looked over his blood work, “You knew my father.” His forehead wrinkled as he was looking at me like he was trying to place me with all the people that he once knew. “Of course, if you were to see my brother you would really see the young Howard Stark in him.”

“Stark? You’re Stark’s daughter?”

“Yep.”

“Is...Is he gone? Like everyone else?” He questioned looking at his feet.

“Both he and my mother died in ‘91,” I replied quietly, “Car crash, I was 15.”

“I’m-“

“It’s okay...it was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” he said. I remembered hearing from Aunt Peggy how Steve had lost both of his parents as well and it wasn’t something that you want to have in common with someone, but at least he could understand what I went through. “Anyway, are you doing more tests today doc?”

“No, you’ve got as clean of a bill as a super soldier that has been frozen in the ice for nearly 70 years,” I replied, “Got some interesting data on myself as well…”

“On yourself?”

“Oh...it’s nothing,” I said, not meaning to have said that last part out loud. As a scientist it made me curious to see what my own altered gene sequence looked like to that of Captain America’s since both our serums came from the same doctor and the same time period. I honestly wasn’t expecting any huge similarities, but I was surprised that what had been altered in me had also been altered in him, but because of the way that the serum was meant to activate within my body it didn’t turn me into a super soldier, but a weapon.

“And Bucky used to call me a bad liar,” Steve said, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair, “What’s going on doc?”

I sighed. He was going to find out sooner or later because of The Avengers Initiative that Fury was putting together, so I just told him everything.

“All for that fact that your brother was kidnapped?” he questioned, “You are a tough one and got heart doc…”

“Yeah, well my brother damn near killed me when he found out what I did,” I replied, “But I’m good with my choices. But this isn’t about me…I brought these from the old SSR storage…” I went to go grab the couple of boxes that I brought with me that morning but he beat me to them.

“Let me get those for you,” he said as he carried them over to the table.

“Thank you,” I said, “These boxes have some of your belongings that were stored away after you went missing.”

He opened the box and looked in, there were some old photos, a signed baseball, his father’s dog tags, his mother’s wedding ring. Small things that were squirrelled away from his Brooklyn apartment for if he were to be found again. “These were in storage this whole time?”

“Yeah, I’m going to guess that either my father or Agent Carter had this done,” I said as I reached into the box and pulled out a picture that caught my eye.

“It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Peggy had it done,” he said, looking at the compass that was sitting on the table by where he had been sitting.

“There are other things that belonged to you that aren't as personal that you can find in the Smithsonian,” I said, captivated by the man in the photo.

“He would have liked you,” Steve said looking over my shoulder.

“What?”

“Bucky…he would have liked you,” he said pointing to the picture.

“This is a much better picture than the memorial one that they have in the museum,” I said as Steve and I sat down, “He has playful eyes…”

He snorted. “Oh you have no idea...he knew just how to make everyone feel happy even on the worst days, but when he was around others...oh and women could not get enough of him. Though thinking about it now he was actually quite picky.”

“Man, romance did die in the 40s,” I said lulling my head back as I put the picture back in the box.

He chuckled. “Guys today not what you wish they were?”

“I get more satisfaction from my hand then men nowadays…” There was a silence in the room and I looked at Steve whose ears were now a bright shade of red. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine…”

A FEW DAYS LATER

“You didn’t,” Natasha said as she blocked my punch.

“As you well know, don’t ask me questions you don’t want an honest answer to,” I replied as we continued to spar. As we did so I managed to grab her arm, twist it and use her own leg to give me a little extra leverage to jump and get my legs around her neck and flip her over.

“Good god, woman…” she said, landing with an oomph.

“I’ve been getting some tips from Agent May,” I said with a cheeky grin, “You are the one that told me not to always rely on my powers.”

She sat up and looked up at me. “Want to play it that way huh?”

“Oh shit…”

After getting my ass thoroughly handed to me (though Nat did say that I did quite well), we hit the showers and after returned to our previous conversation...thanks to her.

“So what did he say after you said what you did?” she questioned as we stood at one of the Triskelion’s coffee stands.

“Who say about what?” I asked at first not catching on to what she was talking about.

“Steve….what did he say?”

“Oh, nothing...his ears turned bright red and I apologised, I forgot that in the 1940s they weren’t exactly open about that kind of stuff.”

She let out a snort. “Oh if only the 1940s could see us now!” she said sliding down the zipper of her jacket with a wink.

“You’re horrible,” I said nudging her with my elbow.

“Anyway, what about that guy that you just broke up with?”

“Kevin?” I asked, wrinkling my nose, “For starters, he broke up with me.”

“Excuse me?”

I just shrugged. “He wasn’t worth the time anyway. He only cared about what I could do for his dick, and not what his dick could do for me. No satisfaction what-so-ever...always ended up sneaking off to the bathroom to get off.”

“I hate that...he’s losing out though,” she said as we grabbed our coffee and headed down the hall.

“I don’t need a guy who leaves me feeling unsatisfied or that tells me that I work too much, or that-”

“He does know that you have 3 Phds and are the co-owner of a billion dollar company...right?”

“Must’ve slipped his mind…” I said shrugging.

“Ladies,” we looked and saw Fury as he walked over to us, arms tucked behind his back.

“Doctor, I saw your final report...is Rogers ready when if we need him,” he questioned.

“I think he is, whether or not he thinks he is will come down to what he does when a challenge is put in front of him,” I replied.

“Very well, are you leaving tonight or tomorrow?” he questioned.

“Tonight sir, I believe that Nat is leaving tonight as well, I finished my work with Captain Rogers, got my training in, and now I need to get back to Stark Tower so that Tony and Pepper don’t completely steal my thunder with the sustainable energy for the tower.”

“Very well...a Quinjet will be available for you to take whenever you are ready,” he said with a nod of his head, “Agent Romanoff...good luck on your mission.”

“Thank you sir,” she said.

He left us standing there and I just looked at her. “Did I just get debriefed?”

“In a subtle way, yes.”

“Agent Doctor Stark or Doctor Agent Stark?”

“None of the above….”

“Party-pooper.”

That evening I did find myself back at Stark Tower, at the very top in Tony’s “Home Away From Home”.

“You know Y/N, technically...you could live here,” Tony said as me, him, and Pepper sat on the couch putting making sure we had all our plans put together for when Tony when to connect the Arc Reactor to Stark Tower.

“So generous, but I like my garden,” I replied, “And I like feeling like a normal human being first thing in the morning.”

“Your house is so small,” he said.

“I’m sorry my 3,000 square ft house bothers you so,” I said, “But it’s my ‘small’ house and has all the upgrades that I need. If I ever need a bigger house I’ll just buy the house next door and evict the neighbors and build over onto that plot of land.” I thought Pepper’s head was gonna snap off her neck with as fast as she turned it when I said this. “I’m kidding Pep...cool your jets.”

“The two of you have deep enough pockets, forgive me if I get concerned sometimes,” she said with a chuckled.

“Nah, I like my neighbors...guy across the street is kind of creepy but-“

“Big brother need to step in and take care of him for you?” Tony teased earning an eyeroll.

“When I moved in there, Nancy, the neighbor to the right of me said he’s been the head of the neighborhood watch for 20 years or something like that,” I replied knowing that though he was teasing me, part of him was also serious, “He apparently didn’t like all the people that came in and out of the neighborhood when I was having the house upgraded with Stark Tech, the lab put in the basement, and then the security around the perimeter...I disrupted the peace.”

“Look at you, turning suburbia on its head,” he said.

“Alright you two, enough...let’s get this finished,” Pepper laughed.

Two nights later project clean Sustainability was a go.

“How’s it look big bro?” I asked as Tony flew back to the Tower as it lit up the New York skyline.

“Like Christmas, only more...us,” he replied.

As he landed I turned to Pepper. “I will leave you two to celebrate, I have other work that needs to be felt with.”

“What? N/N, stay and have some champagne,” Pepper said.

“No, you two celebrate. Date night for you two...enjoy.” I headed to the elevator and to my office where I was greeted by my Artificially Intelligent Digital Assistant or AIDA for short.

“Good evening, Doctor Stark. I would like to congratulate you on making Stark tower the first fully clean and sustainable building in the United States,” she said as I sat at my desk, “Also I am being informed by JARVIS that Agent Coulson is trying to get a hold of both you and Mr. Stark, should I put him through?”

I sighed. “If I don’t, he’ll probably just hack his way-“

*DING*

“Agent Coulson…”

"Doctor Stark, I'm sorry to interupt your evening but there is something urgent that we need dealt with," he said holding out a file to me. Opening the file I saw a picture of a familiar blue cube paperclipped to the top. "What do you know about the Tesseract?"

"Only what was in my father's files," I replied. By now there were five people that knew about the files that were given to my by Aunt Peggy. I knew I couldn't keep them a secret forever so I kept it down to:

Fury Coulson Nat Tony Pepper

Thanks to Pepper and her due dillagence, most of the files were now store electronically on an encrypted harddrive. Though there were somethings that were secret to only me.

"Good, in five minutes send what you have up to Mr. Stark," he replied, "The Tessaract was stolen by an Asgardian by the name of Loki. We will need your help on this....time for you to suit up."

As Coulson headed back to the elevator I went over to my computer and pulled up my files. 'Why my father ever fished that thing out of the ocean instead of throwing it back I will never understand....'

TO BE CONTINUED....

Chapter 3>>

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (40) Homecoming

This chapter is dedicated to my irl friend Kris, who found this story on his own and then told me he was reading it, which completely freaked my bean. 

Re-reading this story, I remembered thinking about having Tom and Sabine be stress bakers. It was more of a comedy point. But now knowing there are flour outages because of so many people stress baking during quarantine, I think it’s very in character. 

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“Oh look at that! Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, Adrien.” Dr. Boucher praised. “I love bloody skin grafts.” 

Adrien was on his stomach, but propped up with pillows to keep the weight off of his chest. The bandages on his back were coming off permanently today. 

And they would be going home. 

Well, to the Agreste mansion at least. 

Until things calmed down more, and the new security system was installed at the bakery. 

“No sign of infection, no blackening of any skin. This is just what I hoped to see.” 

“It still looks awful,” said Gabriel, mercilessly. 

“Well, of course it does. And the stitches make it look even worse. But take a look at this!” The doctor pressed a finger against the skin graft for a moment and then pulled away. There was a white spot where he pressed, before it turned pink again. “You see? He’s got a nice blood flow. That means my biggest worries with him are mostly over.” 

He took off more bandages lower down, revealing his buttocks and thighs. “However, the graft came from the groin area. The donor site is looking good too, but the skin is still raw and tender. Walking will be painful for a few weeks still.” Carefully, he rolled Adrien’s thigh to reveal the yellowish gauze on the inside of his legs. It just looked like a really bad rug burn underneath. 

“Sitting might also be unpleasant, given the stretching to the stitches from your lower back to your calves. If you are able to prop up your legs, that should help.” 

Adrien grunted in confirmation. 

“Loose underwear and pants. The more breathable the better. You may shower, but nothing is to be submerged in water. If the xeroform gauze gets wet, blot it dry gently, and use a hair dryer at the lowest setting. You might have to do that a few times a day. As the skin heals, the xeroform will pull off. Just trim it off with scissors. It should be about another two weeks before it pulls all the way off. Your arm stays in the sling for two more weeks, but you can use it as need be. Just be careful. Continue to clean your ears with saline until all of the piercings are healed, then you can take out the earrings. Take all medicine as prescribed, when designated. I’ve included all this information in your care packet.” 

“Thank you,” said Gabriel. 

The doctor smiled and turned to the other side of the room. “And how is Marinette feeling today?” 

“She’s a little sleepy today,” provided Tom. 

Marinette laid on her side, away from Adrien. She didn’t acknowledge the doctor. 

“Not excited about getting to go home in time for Christmas, sweetheart?” 

“I’m ecstatic.” She said dully. 

“I can tell,” Dr. Boucher chuckled. “Did you hear what I told Adrien?” 

“Hmm-mm.” 

“Showers are fine, but don’t submerge any wounds. Mr. Agreste said that your shower has been fitted with a bench so won’t risk standing in water.” 

“Cool.” 

“Take all medicine as prescribed and when designated.” 

“Got it.” 

“Would you please look me in the eye and say that again?” 

Marinette turned to face him, and said calmly. “Yes Dr. Boucher, I will take my medicine exactly as prescribed and at the right times.”

“Excellent.” The man smiled. “I’m not trying to patronize you, I just wanted you to remember.” 

“I know.”

“Good. Now, if anything happens after you leave, you trip and fall, some other symptom pops up, etc. call me, and I’ll come right over. No need to tough things out. We want a nice, smooth recovery.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Alright! Let’s get you dressed and checked out!” 

—

Tom, Gabriel, and the Gorilla accompanied them down to the lobby. Sabine has stayed back at the mansion, preparing for their return. Marinette and Adrien were both put in wheelchairs, as they were both still too weak to make the trip. 

As soon as they got off the elevator, applause began as staff and patients alike lined the hall and cheered them on. 

Marinette sunk farther into her chair. “Why are they all here?” She asked her father. 

“Because they love you, and they’re happy to see that you’re alright.” 

“How could they love me?” 

“Darling, you’re Ladybug.” 

“That doesn’t make up for what happened. Just one unforgivable deed can ruin the public’s opinion of a person. Why would I get any special treatment?” 

Tom sighed. “You’ll understand eventually.” 

Eventually, they ended up at check out. Marinette paid little attention to what was being said. They talked billing and insurance, future appointments for suture removal and check ups. Boring stuff. 

Adrien was by her side, about a foot away, and he rested his arm out, palm up for her to take. 

She pretended not to see it. 

Then soon enough, they were moving again, the Gorilla hurrying on ahead to pull up the car. 

“Adrien should sit in the front,” said Marinette. “So he has more leg room.” 

Adrien whined in protest, but Gabriel ignored him. “I think that’s a good idea.” 

Before they even went outside, however, they could already hear the crowd waiting for them. 

“Shit,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. “The media has been patrolling the entrance, but it looks like someone found out today was discharge day.” 

“Don’t these people have anything better to do? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve for crying out loud.” Grumbled Tom. 

Marinette pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up, and pulled the cords taut. Adrien noticed, and mimicked the action. The police stood nearby, ready to keep back the crowds.

The cold December air burst over them in a flurry, blowing right through them, as the voices shouted and cried out for attention. Mostly demanding and questioning, but some with anger.  

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!”

“What are you going to do now?” 

“Will you ever get back to superhero work?” 

“Is it true that you’re both married officially?” 

“Will you be passing on the Miraculous?!”

“Adrien, over here!” 

“Murderers!” 

“Have you heard anything from Hawkmoth?”

“Are you in league with Hawkmoth now?”

“Monsters!” 

Marinette kept her head down as her father helped her into the car. She was placed in the middle seat, as Gabriel sat on her left. The Gorilla helped Adrien into the front, and placed the wheelchairs in the trunk. 

Like the red sea, the reporters parted from the front of the car, but didn’t relent in their questions. 

“How bad are your injuries?”

“Where are the other Miraculous users?” 

“How could you betray us!?”

“What are you going to do with the money from the concert?”

The moment everyone was buckled and settled, the Gorilla peeled out of the drive and sped away to the mansion. 

“Jesus Christ. I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” 

“Must be a slow news day everywhere else.” 

Tom pulled Marinette against him. “It’s okay, Marinette. It won’t take long before this all calms down.” 

“Yeah, like in a few decades.” She muttered. 

The ride was mostly silent, as Tom tried to introduce small talk. But between two people that didn’t talk, and two people not willing to talk, it was more awkward than not. 

Soon they reached the mansion, and even more media awaited them. 

Marinette covered her ears to ignore it. 

The Gorilla pulled right up to the steps, the gate locking the unwanted guests out. 

“I want to walk up the steps on my own.” Marinette demanded. 

“Alright, I’ll be right there to catch you,” said her father, helping her out. 

The Gorilla lifted Adrien out of his seat, and carried him up the stairs. 

Each step hurt, despite having shoes and socks on. She leaned on the rail, while her father’s hand steadied her back. It was slow, but she was doing it on her own. 

The doors to the mansion opened, and immediately they were warmed. Not just by the heat, but by the lights, the glitter, and bright colors. 

Now it felt like Christmas. Garland strung across the banisters, little hints of Christmas scattered over end tables and furniture, and a tree, bare and surrounded by boxes of decorations. 

It felt like a home. 

Marinette let out a little hum at the sight. Her parents must have run home to collect their own decorations to make it feel like their home. 

“Pretty,” she said with a little smile. 

“Oh I’m so glad you like it!” Alya stood from where she was checking lights. “I had no idea if you were going to be up for Christmas, but I figured you wouldn’t at least mind the decorations.”

“Looks very nice,” she stated again. “I’ll enjoy it more in a bit. I really just want to take a shower.” 

“Fair enough!” 

Adrien whined. 

“Stay down here,” she demanded, without looking at him. “It doesn’t make any sense for you to wait for me upstairs when I’m coming right back down.” 

He whined again, but it sounded more like he was relenting. 

The Gorilla deposited him gently on a chair near the tree as Marinette once again, independently climbed the stairs. 

Alya rested a hand on Adrien’s knee. “What do you think, Sunshine? Festive enough?” 

He shrugged. 

“Eh,” Nino winced. “Adrien’s not really...big on Christmas.” 

“My wife is obsessed with Christmas,” explained Gabriel. “Since she...disappeared, it’s been hard. A lot of memories.” 

Adrien shifted uncomfortably. 

“Then we’ll all make some new ones together.” Said Sabine, resting a hand on his head. “Then we’ll honor the ones you have, and it might not sting as much.” 

Adrien didn’t look thrilled at the idea, but he was hard to read. He shuffled his feet, and pulled at the legs of his pants. 

He didn’t really seem to be listening. 

So they let him be, and got back to decorating.  

—

When Marinette reached Adrien’s room, she sauntered over to the bed and sat down on the mattress.

“Great job!” Praised Tikki. “That was a lot of stairs! And you did it all by yourself!” 

“Stupid thing to be happy about,” she frowned. “I’m strong enough, my feet just hurt.” 

“You’ve got to celebrate the little things.” Tikki flitted over to Marinette’s suitcase behind the couch. “Otherwise you’ll get discouraged.”

“Yeah, whatever.” 

Tikki wasn’t bothered by the reaction, and only picked out some clothes and moved them into the bathroom. 

Adrien’s room had also been decorated for Christmas. There was a garland stretched across the railing to the second story. Another undecorated Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room by the windows. The bed was made, with fresh sheets and a festive blanket on the foot of the mattress. By the pillows sat the little Ladybug and Chat Noir plushies. 

Marinette grit her teeth as she leaned forward to untie her shoes. It wasn’t enough to pull her stitches on her back, but it did sting. 

“Do you need help?” Tikki asked after watching her struggle.

“No.” She finished untying her laces, and then started to pull them off. 

The worst of the cuts on her feet were on the ball of her foot, right by her big toe, and it hurt the whole time she slid out of her shoe. 

She still had to take her socks off, but she was exhausted. 

Tikki seemed to pick up on it and pulled her socks off for her, pulling gently to not catch on the stitches. 

“Thank you, Tikki.” 

“Of course Marinette. Please don’t feel ashamed to ask for help. I want you to get better.” 

Marinette didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree. Slowly, she stood and sauntered her way to the bathroom. 

The tile was cool on the irritated skin. She shucked off her sweatpants and sweatshirt, then her shirt and underwear. 

Then she sat on the toilet, feeling tired again before she could reach the shower. 

“Here’s your hairbrush.” Tikki added, dropping it on the counter. 

“Thanks.” 

“Would you like me to stay in here? Or wait outside?” 

“Wait outside.” Then as an afterthought, she added, “please.” 

“I understand. You want your privacy. Well, if you need me, I’ll be out in Adrien’s room.” And she shut the door behind her. 

Gathering her strength, Marinette sauntered over to the shower and turned it on. It didn’t take long at all for it to warm up, and she slid onto the bench, sitting sideways in the stream of water. 

Words couldn’t describe the comfort clean, warm water gave her as it rushed over her body. She scrubbed the shampoo into her hair and let the suds slide down her skin. The luxurious fragrance of expensive soap filled her nostrils, hiding the stench of infection and body odor. The dirt and grime that had persisted even after the sponge baths, were disappearing down the drain, leaving nothing but smooth, clean skin. 

She used a washcloth to scrub at the bloodstains, rubbing her skin raw. Maybe if she rubbed hard enough, she could wash all the bad memories away. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? 

After her hair was shampooed and conditioned, and her skin was raw from her frantic scrubbing, she just sat on the bench, letting the water beat on her. Clear her head of thoughts, good and bad. 

And just exist.

Like that night in the rain. 

She had leaned on Chat’s—Grimalkin’s chest then. He wrapped his arm around her, and kissed her forehead tenderly, like they hadn’t just murdered 14 people. 

A moment in the rain with Adrien. 

How different things had become. 

Before, she loved the rain. It reminded her of falling in love. Of misunderstandings turned to forgiveness, and friendships starting in the most sincere and innocent of ways. But now the rain tasted bitter. It was cold on her skin and made her hair hang flat to her head. 

There was no umbrella, no laughter, no fireworks. 

And even the boy she shared the moment with became a blur. 

When living your last moments, it’s easy to say ‘I love you’. There’s no fear, no considering, no sorting out your feelings. Just the desire for comfort and to lean on someone, and to let your feelings known without regrets. 

She loved Adrien, she knew that in her head. And she had moments with Chat Noir where her heart would beat faster and she’d feel at home. 

But the twisted version of her boy was so foreign to her. They had both come out of torture as different people, that was obvious. But the month she was separated from him, something changed in his mind. It cracked. Or maybe it was the flogging, or even the akumatization. 

Somewhere, the sunshine goofball she treasured was swallowed, and a blank slate was left behind. 

Adrien and Chat Noir still never melded together for her. They hadn’t gotten to develop that gap organically. It was just a constant fight for their lives with no development. 

It was her and him together, and that’s all it was. All it needed to be. 

So what was different now? Why was everything so complicated? 

Finally, she turned the water to cold, letting herself be pelted to numbness before she turned it off completely. 

She stood, stepping out of the shower to get a towel. 

But the marble floor was slick and her feet flew out from under her. She immediately fell on the ground, landing hard on her back and bumping her head on the lip of the shower. 

It wasn’t enough to knock her out, but it did send searing pain up through the wounds in her back. 

Honestly, it would have hurt even if she didn’t just get out of the hospital. 

She didn’t cry out in pain though. She took the impact with as much grace as she could, only a rough grunt coming from her lips. 

Now to get up. 

She could do that, right? She just needed to sit up. 

Sit up. 

Sit. 

Oh she was exhausted. Her head throbbed as she fought off nausea. 

“Tikki?” She called weakly. 

“Did you call me, Marinette?” Tikki asked from outside. 

“Yeah...I...I fell. And I can’t...I can’t get up.” 

Tikki was silent on the other side. Marinette hoped she had rushed to get help, and hadn’t shrugged her off. 

Just a few minutes. 

Just a few…

—

Tikki swooped into the main room where everyone was still decorating. “Marinette fell!” She cried. 

Immediately, everyone abandoned their decorations and raced up the stairs, leaving Adrien alone on the couch. 

Tom, Sabine, and Alya burst into the bathroom, while Nino and Gabriel waited just outside, giving her privacy, but also waiting to help where they could. 

Marinette looked up at the sudden entrance. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” 

“Oh baby...” Sabine cooed, bending over her. “What hurts? Where did you land?” 

“I landed on my back, and I bumped my head.” 

“I’ll get an ice pack!” Gabriel called before leaving the room. 

“Do we need to call the doctor?” Asked Tom. 

“No, no don’t. I just...need some help getting up. I’m...weaker than I thought.” 

“How’s your spine? Does anything feel wrong?” 

“No, just my stitches.” 

“Okay, I just didn’t want to move you if you hurt your spine.” Tom took hold of her arm and pulled her up to sit. Then he scooped her up and moved her to sit on the toilet. 

Alya draped a towel over her legs. 

Sabine scooted behind her, touching her back. “I’m not seeing any bleeding, so I don’t think you tore anything.” 

“Girl, talk to us.” Alya demanded. “I see tears. What hurts?” 

“It all hurts,” she confessed with a whisper. “But I feel so stupid for falling...” 

Sabine took her hairbrush and started to comb out her hair. “Darling, no. You don’t need to worry about that. Accidents happen.” 

“Dr. Boucher told me to be careful. But I just wanted to shower on my own...” 

“Marinette,” her mother squeezed her hand. “We do not fault you for wanting to be independent or wanting privacy. You deserve it, you have the right to ask for it. This was simply an accident, and it’s not as bad as it could be.” 

“I’ll call the doctor,” said Tom. “I don’t think he needs to come, but it would be smart to get his recommendation.” 

“Sorry...” 

“No apologies necessary, honey.” Tom kissed her temple, and left the room. 

“Let’s get you dressed, Hmm?” 

“Yeah.” 

Only a few minutes later, Marinette emerged from the bathroom, clean and dry, dressed in fresh clothes. Sabine helped her to sit on the bed. 

Gabriel handed her a bag of frozen peas for her head, and Nino gave her a glass of water with some ibuprofen. 

“Dr. Boucher says he’s not too worried about it since she’s not bleeding or unconscious. He said there might be some extra soreness, but to call again if something feels sprained.” 

“I’m sorry...” Marinette looked down to her toes. 

“Really girl, stop apologizing.” Alya chastised. “We felt so helpless for so long, please let us help you now.” 

Marinette looked up to her shyly, and prepared to answer, but before she could, a low whine came from the door. 

Everyone collectively turned to look, only to find Adrien sitting at the door frame. 

“Adrien? How did you get up here?” Gabriel asked, dreading the answer. 

Adrien leaned forward to his hands and knees and started to shuffle slowly into the room. 

“Nope!” Tom rushed to him and lifted him off the floor. He carried him over to the couch and set him down. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Gabriel reprimanded. “Why didn’t you just stay downstairs?”

Adrien flinched, curling up on himself at the shout. 

Tom petted his head. “I’m sorry we left you down there alone. We won’t do it again.”

As soon as Adrien was on the couch, he was twisting to turn around to look at Marinette. He whined again. 

Marinette didn’t look at him. 

“She’s alright,” Sabine cooed. “Just bumped her head.” 

His eyes never left her, as he just stared with an unreadable expression. 

“Did you want to take a shower too, dude?” Asked Nino. 

But Adrien didn’t answer. It didn’t seem like he had heard him. 

“Adrien,” Gabriel stepped right in front of him and caught his eyes. “Do you want to take a shower?”

Adrien tried to look around him, back at Marinette, but she wasn’t looking at him. Not cuing him, not saying anything to him. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

“Adrien.” Gabriel pressed a little firmer. “Yes or no?” 

Why was a simple yes or no so hard? He didn’t know! He didn’t know!

The decision was taken away as Tom scooped him up. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Maybe you’ll feel better afterwards.” 

As he was being taken away, he kept twisting to get a peek at Marinette. 

She never met his eyes. 

Once he was in the bathroom, Sabine helped Marinette over to the couch. “Here dear, just relax. We’ll put a movie on for you both, and we’ll decorate the tree! Won’t that be nice?”

“Hm.” She hummed noncommittally.

“You know, you have a lot of people that want to see you. So for Christmas Eve tomorrow, we’re thinking about having a big dinner. With the Cesaire’s, and Grandma and Grandpa, Chloe, and Jagged Stone and Penny! Won’t that be fun?”

“Yeah.” She said flatly. 

“If you’d rather not, they’d completely understand.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Are you sure? I can call it off too. No pressure sweetie.” 

“Yeah, mom I said it’s fine!” She barked, “If I didn’t want to see them, I would have said no!” 

“Okay,” Sabine said patiently. “I just want you to be in control, but I also want you to have fun.”

Marinette sighed. Then she leaned over the back of the couch and looked in her bag. Not finding what she was looking for, she asked, more politely, “maman? Did you pack my favorite blanket? The gray and red plaid one?” 

“I packed your bag,” Alya clarified. “And no, I didn’t. Sorry girl. I can go grab it for you, though! Anything else you want me to get?”

“Can you also grab my cat pillow?” 

“Sure thing!”

“Wait a second, Alya, have Tom go with you.”

Marinette waited, sitting on the couch and looking out to the city. It was a gray, bleak sky, and even the buildings looked desaturated. While the twinkling of the lights in her peripheral vision showed a warm environment, the landscape in front of her reminded her of just how cold and unforgiving the world was. And how cold it would continue to be in the coming weeks. Perhaps even for the rest of her life. 

Alya plopped down on the couch next to her. “So what do you want to watch? Hallmark’s got some really great ones this year. And by great, I mean terrible. We can play your favorite game: car accident or cancer?” 

“I don’t want to watch a Hallmark movie. Too fake. Too predictable.” 

“Alright, you want a classic one then? Something you’ve seen a hundred times before?” 

“Yeah…yeah I think that’s what I want.” 

“Okay.” Alya dashed up to Adrien’s movie collection. “God, he’s got like every movie ever made up here! Umm…oh, this will work!” She grabbed the case and rushed down the stairs. “I know you like this one!” And she popped it in the player. 

A black and white film. A sleepy scenic town, covered in a layer of fresh snow. The voices of various people called up to prayer. 

And then a sea of stars, where two stars flickered in conversation. 

It’s a Wonderful Life. 

It wasn’t Christmas without it. She’d seen it a hundred times, her heart hurting until the end. 

It was hitting differently this year. 

Eventually, Adrien was brought out, fresh and clean. His hair damp and combed back. With Tom holding his hand, he tottered his way to the couch to sit next to Marinette. 

“Tom?” Asked Sabine, “Alya was going to run to the bakery to get some stuff for Marinette. Will you go with her?” 

“Of course!” 

“Would you like to take the car?” Asked Gabriel. 

“No, I think a walk will do just fine.” 

“Buffalo Gals can't you come out tonight. Can't you come out tonight. Can't you come out tonight. Buffalo Gals can't you come out tonight and dance by the light of the moon.”  

Marinette had noticed when Adrien sat next to her. He still sat just out of reach. One scoot and she’d be pressed against him. 

But she didn’t move. And neither did he. 

“Okay, then, I'll throw a rock at the old Granville house.” 

“Oh, no, don't. I love that old house.” 

An old house indeed. It was a weather-beaten, old-fashioned two-storied house that once was no doubt resplendent. 

“No. You see, you make a wish and then try and break some glass. You got to be a pretty good shot nowadays, too.” 

“Oh, no, George, don't. It's full of romance, that old place. I'd like to live in it.” 

“In that place?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“I wouldn't live in it as a ghost. Now watch...right on the second floor there.” He hurled a stone at the window and broke it. An old man sitting on his porch sat up at attention.

“What'd you wish, George?” 

“Well, not just one wish. A whole hatful, Mary. I know what I'm going to do tomorrow and the next day and the next year and the year after that. I'm shaking the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm going to see the world. Italy, Greece, the Parthenon, the Colosseum. Then I'm coming back here and go to college and see what they know...and then I'm going to build things. I'm gonna build air fields. I'm gonna build skyscrapers a hundred stories high. I'm gonna build bridges a mile long…” 

As he talked, Mary had been listening intently. She finally stooped down and picked up a rock, weighting it in her hand. 

“Are you gonna throw a rock?” 

Mary threw her rock, and once more the sound of breaking glass echoed over the empty street. 

“Hey, that's pretty good. What'd you wish, Mary?” 

She threw him a flirty smile. “Buffalo Gals, can't you come out tonight…”

Alya and Tom returned from their trip, and set the pillow on the bed. Alya dropped the blanket over Marinette and Adrien both, then settled on the couch next to Adrien. 

“Scooch!” Nino demanded, as he wiggled into the seat next to Alya. Alya then bumped into Adrien, who slid over to be closer to Marinette.

Their legs pressed together. 

She didn’t acknowledge it, or the little whimper Adrien made. 

On the screen, George Bailey entered the old, run down house they had broken the windows to. It was run down, water dripping from the ceiling, and the wind was blowing the drapes around as the rain poured outside. But a huge fire burned in the fireplace. Near the fireplace, a collection of packing boxes were heaped together in the shape of a small table and covered with a checkered oilcloth, set for two. A bucket with ice and a champagne bottle sat on the table as well as a bowl of caviar. Two small chickens roasted on a spit over the fire. A phonograph played on a box, a string from the phonograph turning the chickens on the spit. A Hawaiian song played on the record. Mary stood near the fireplace looking as pretty as any bride ever looked. She smiled at George, who had been slowly taking in the whole set-up. Through a door, there was the end of a cheap bed, over the back of which is a pair of pajamas and a nightie.

“Welcome home, Mr. Bailey.” 

“Well, I'll be...Mary, Mary, where did you…”

Ernie, the taxi driver, shoved George forward into Mary’s arms. 

The record ended, and Bert and Ernie sang from outside.

I love you truly, truly dear,

Life with it's sorrow, life with it's tear,

Fades into dreams when I feel you are near,

For I love you truly,

Truly dear!

Ah, love 'tis something, to feel your kind hand,

Ah yes, 'tis something, by your side to stand,

Gone is the sorrow, gone doubt and fear,

For you love me truly,

Truly dear!

A searing pain overtook Marinette’s hand. The pain of a burn, searing flesh and nerves to a blacked char. She looked down, her clenched fingers unfurling. 

Chat Noir. 

That was engraved into her palm, the scar still very angry and red. The new skin began to show through, a pale white. 

Then, by the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.

It was the voice of the officiant echoing in her head, some of his last words before he was shot and killed. The man that had married her to Adrien. 

She could feel the paint on her face, the itchy tutu on her legs, and the absolute humiliation of that mockery of a wedding. The drunken singing, the groping, the lifeless eyes of a corpse on the ground. 

In that case, let’s get a sailboat. Sail the world. At night, we’ll be just a silhouette surrounded by a myriad of stars. Spend our nights on the glassy water, where you can't tell where the sky begins and ends. Just the two of us, free to go wherever we want.

That was Adrien’s voice, when it still sounded like him. The last time she heard him speak.

When we’re out of here, we’ll have our perfect wedding. And then we’ll go, and never look back.

“Marinette?” Alya asked. 

Marinette just shook her head, and covered her face. She brought her legs up and curled up into the corner of the couch as far as she could. 

Mary spoke on the screen. “Remember the night we broke the windows in this old house? This is what I wished for.”

—

Day number...who even knew anymore. The dark and the silence made time go on forever. 

But the cement was not quite as cold, the ache in her knees not so strong, and she could hear traffic. 

This is a dream, she told herself. Just a nightmare. 

Just like every night. 

The door to her little cage opened, and there stood Ladybug. Her arms were crossed and she looked supremely disappointed.

“Well?” She asked. 

“Well what? You’re the one with the powers here.” 

Ladybug scoffed, not moving from the doorframe. “Don’t act dumb. I’ve had it with your attitude.” 

“You aren’t real,” Said Marinette. “And my attitude? You mean my trauma? My anxiety? My paranoia? You mean the fact that I don’t know who I can trust anymore? You mean the supreme weight of being closed in silence for a month? Is that what you’re sick of, Ladybug? My unheroic disposition? My unladylike mannerisms?”

Ladybug looked at her unflinching. “No. That’s not what I’m talking about at all. And you know it.” 

Marinette turned away. “I really wish it was.” 

“Because you have an excuse for it?” 

“And a logical explanation.” 

“I don’t think violent torture is logical.” 

“No. No it’s not.” Marinette scoffed. “Look, do you have a reason for bothering me? Or did you just come here to taunt me? O ghost of Christmas past?” 

“You know why I’m here.” 

“No, I really don’t. This is a dream right? Dreams don’t make sense. They say dreams have hidden meanings, but I really doubt reliving every torment I dealt with in the past month is anything but trauma.” 

Ladybug snapped her fingers, and in an instant, they were in Adrien’s room. Marinette was on the couch, where she had elected to sleep, despite the insistence against it from everyone else.

She didn’t look, but she knew Adrien was in his bed.

“You’re acting weird around Adrien again.” Ladybug stated coldly. “Why?” 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. 

“You don’t know? Really? After all you’ve been through together, now you’re avoiding him?” 

“I’m not avoiding him!” 

“You haven’t said a word to him since he fought his way to you in the hospital!” 

“He can’t speak! It wouldn’t be fair!” 

“You won’t even look at him!” 

“That’s not true!” 

“Look at him right now!” 

“I—I can’t!” 

“You can’t? Or you won’t?” 

Marinette trembled. “I can’t...I can’t bear it...” 

“Bear what, Marinette?” 

It took awhile for her to have an answer. 

“I…I don’t know him.” She confessed. 

Ladybug didn’t answer, only looked down at her, waiting. 

“I don’t know if I ever knew him. How could I, if Chat and Adrien never felt like the same person? And now…this—“ She cut herself off. “I’m horrible. I’m cruel. And I’m unfair. I’m not the Marinette I used to be, so why would he be different? Shouldn’t I just…love him regardless?” 

Ladybug sat daintily next to her. “You know love isn’t easy. People change, and so must your love. But it’s not going to if you don’t communicate with him.” 

“He can’t talk.” 

“He can listen. And he can see. And he’s aware of every time you push him away. And he has no idea why you are. But, knowing him, he’s probably thinking the worst.” 

Marinette turned to look at him. He curled up in his bed, looking far too small for the king sized mattress. 

He looked restless and tense. 

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now. But don’t push away the person who understands your pain the most. Now wake up!” 

Marinette jolted awake, still on the couch. This time for real. She blinked a few times, noticing that it was snowing outside. The lights from the garden shined up to illuminate the flakes. 

Then, she noticed the blond head by her elbows. He was sitting on the floor, resting against the couch and watching the snowfall. 

“Adrien?” She whispered, ever so gently. 

He turned his head, looking at her with wide green eyes, full of panic. He had been caught. 

“Can’t sleep?” She asked again, still gently.

He shook his head, no. 

She sat up, making room for him. “Would you like to sit up here? It’ll be more comfortable.” 

He took her invitation and climbed onto the couch. 

Marinette took note of his posture, tense, closed off, unsure as he continued to watch the snow fall.

“I’m sorry.” She breathed.

He glanced at her again, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“I…this is going to sound so stupid, but…now that we’re not in mortal peril anymore, I’ve been thinking…” 

Tears gathered in his eyes as he started to scoot farther away from her. 

“No, wait, Adrien…ugh.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Look, Chat Noir and Adrien were always so different from each other. I told you I loved you, and I do, and I didn’t lie. But…if the reveal had happened naturally, I would have wanted more time.” 

He looked less upset now, and more just curious as he cocked his head. 

“Time to reconcile the two versions of you into one. But the person you are now is even more different…I’m just confused. And I still feel…really guilty about getting us into this position in the first place.” Tears started to sting at her own eyes before she shut them tight to will them away. “I’m sorry for pushing you away, Kitty.” 

A hand fell on her shoulder. Sure, and strong as he gave her a little squeeze. 

“Hey, no sweat Marinette.” She could almost hear his voice.

His hand trailed down her arm to take her hand, before he gave it a little squeeze and brought it to his lips to kiss. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, my lady.” 

When she opened her eyes, she let out a shuddering sigh at the look on his face. One of adoration and trust. That slight smile, and eyes that sparkled with warmth. 

Adrien. 

The boy she loved. Her partner. 

The line was blurred, but not completely gone. But things already felt better. 

He let go of her hand and held out his arm, asking for a hug. 

She fell into him, letting his warmth seep into her soul. He smelled like Adrien used to smell, and had a quiet purr that Chat always had. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “I really love you.”

He squeezed her tighter and kissed her head. 

They stayed like that for a while, until Adrien yawned. 

“Let’s get back to bed, huh?” 

He gestured to his bed. 

“Yeah, I’ll join you.” 

He beamed. 

Slowly, they both shuffled to the bed, and dropped onto it. Marinette spread her blanket over both of them and snuggled down to rest. The bed really was more comfortable than the couch. 

Adrien hooked his ankles with hers, and reached out to take her hand. 

She just scooted closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Then she left a peck on his lips. “Needy kitty.” 

He nuzzled against her head, lulling her back to sleep with his purrs. 

[travelingbytastebuds]

ENGLAND WHERE: Penny Lane Pub (421 E Franklin St, Richmond, VA 23219) I remember going to some fancy little tea shop in Stony Brook almost two decades ago when I used to hang around Selden House. We all went as a big group after sleeping over there one night. I don't think it's entirely a British place, but I do remember there were plentiful scones and I learned back then that I did not really care for scones in the slightest. I also made a huge plate of cucumber sandwiches for Dan one afternoon-- like a HUUUUGE plate... and I didn't realize back then that it would be easier to put the spread on them first, so I basically sat there for like two hours spreading each of the little tiny finger sandwiches so they would be ready for him when he got home from work. But two hours later, cucumber sandwiches, kippers, TARDIS Tea (from Tea & Absinthe) and cue the Doctor Who theme song... geeky British dinner was served! I've definitely also had my share of earl grey tea along with fish and chips in the past-- so I guess I already finished this one off my checklist before. In fact, it was one of the few countries that got automatically crossed off on the first day I decided to create Traveling By Tastebuds. Still, I figured I would hit up Penny Lane Pub for the fun of it anyway. I knew I was in the right place as soon as I parked my car, because while trying to figure out if I needed to pay the parking meter or if I was far enough way, I heard a very strong British accent. He helped me figure out that yes, the meter did need to be paid (only $1.50 so not that bad). Anyway, the place was really cute from the outside-- Union Jack flags all flying, painted Queen's guards standing by-- but once I entered the building it was like walking through the Cardiff rift. It's half museum when you walk inside, every single piece of wall covered by Beatles memorabilia, British classic rock albums, soccer and rugby souvenirs with a red phone booths standing in the corner. Then you enter the main pub area and the sounds of people cheering for their soccer teams complete the imagery. I ended up getting a table in the dining room with an enormous fireplace, swords and clan emblems on the walls, my Royal Stewart Tartan over the fireplace mantle-- it definitely felt like I was not in Richmond anymore! I've never really been that into British food before, but the ambiance there is like a quick hop over the ocean which already made the place a winner in my book. I got the cottage pie (which came with some good homemade-style rye bread). I've never really liked British food since it's a lot of meat and potatoes, but it was really good. Very classically done, felt rustic in a way. It came with some HP sauce, which I've never heard of but it's supposedly some brown sauce that comes out of the United Kingdoms. The brown sauce was not my favorite and I still regret pouring it all over my much better mashed potatoes. I really wish I didn't have to return to work right after this lunch though because I should have realized a pub would have an extensive list of beers. British, Irish and Scottish beers were all listed by country and I really need to get back there at some point and sample each and every single one of them! I have needs! After my meal, I walked around a bit looking at all the memorabilia on the walls (they even let me go upstairs where more stuff was hanging even though it wasn't open when they saw I was so enthusiastically checking everything out-- Titanic souvenirs, old English antiques, Queen Elizabeth posters, ect). They even had a TARDIS in the bathroom. I found the whole place just adorable and it definitely lives up to how they billed themselves as "decor-rich" and "a tribute to all things English". Almost felt a little bit of a shock when I stepped back outside and I was all of a sudden back in Virginia.

I should also point out the UK box from Universal Yum Yums from June 2020. England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales all in one box. I'm surprised they got to my apartment without fighting each other... Heh.

[coastaldragon]

Dragon Diary 1/7/21

So...this is my resolution for the year.

I wanted to start a kin-related diary. I found myself missing how often I used to muse about myself and my experiences here, and have long since felt...detached from myself. Stuck in the loop of going through the motions of “human.”

A week late on my first entry, but so it goes.

These entries will just be flow-of-consciousness blabbles for the most part. I’ll talk about any kin-related thoughts I’ve had that day, how I’ve been feeling, how my otherkinity has affected my day, etc.

I have a lot of catching-up to do with you all, so the first few entries may seem disjointed and a little long. Lets get started. This is long. And a bit negative. But hopefully they won’t all be.

cw for death and drug mention and health talk like needles and stuff

I don’t quite remember why I dropped Tumblr like I did. I think I was getting annoyed at all the UI changes, and just overall very busy with “real life.” These things happen. I slowly drift away from a platform. Sometimes for weeks, months, or years in this case. Then I’ll drift back. Kind of like a scrap of wood on the waves.

In the time I’ve been gone life has been...interesting. The source of the stress that caused me to awaken in the first place is gone. He OD’d in...2014? 2015? Some time around there. My grasp of time is worse than ever.

We hadn’t even known he’d be using anything. Turned out he was stealing my late father’s remaining fentanyl supply. One of those guys who preys on widows like my mother. He lied about everything. His entire past as we knew it was a lie. And he was just leeching off of us.

It was...hard. I was the one who found his body upon getting home from work. My mother is still traumatized, even now. Even after all he did. She did love him.

I think all that hardened me quite a bit. And I’m sad for it. I’m still trying to soften myself again, but my trust has never been shattered like that before or since.

My now health is...poor. I had a great job working at an independent pack-and-mail sort of place for a few years. Very laid back, when the customers were nice. Helped me build a lot of strength and muscle. Quite enjoyed showing off by hefting 50lb boxes onto my shoulders. Helped me feel less weak in this squishy human body of mine.

But about...2 or 3 years ago [again, time is a myth to my brain] I woke up and my shoulders were just.

Locked.

It felt like someone had stuck paint spanners under my shoulder blades or something. Not only that, but I was weak. I barely had the strength in my arms to lift a half gallon of milk in the morning.

We thought I’d just hurt myself showing off, somehow. So we gave it some time. Took ibuprofen, used pain creams. Took a few days off work.

But it didn’t get better. It got painful. And the moreso. And moreso. And then my back began to have trouble as well. It was spreading. I felt...ill.

So. Doctors. Tests. More bloodwork than I’ve ever had in my entire life. [10 vials at once for one appt!]

My primary, who is a garbage person I never wish to see again, insisted it was just a sprain. Or something. Whatever. But I knew it wasn’t. My mother knew it wasn’t. Everyone I knew knew it wasn’t.

Specialist time! At the behest of my cousin, who has a litany of autoimmune disorders, we hooked up with a rheumatologist. Who I will call Dr.M. 

Dr.M is an angel on Earth. I am convinced of it. A full year he spent with me, ordering tests, trying treatments, working with me to figure out what the hell was going on. And we did. And what a mouthful it is.

Ankylosing spondylitis. No, it’s not a dinosaur. [Though I do think I’m ‘hearted for ankylosaurines...I don’t think it’s related lol!]

You can look it up if you like. But basically: My immune system is fucking crazy and attacks all the things. Most places describe it as being a lower spine disorder, and while that is certainly where its centralized in most folks, that’s not all it is.

For example mine is, obviously, centralized in my shoulders and upper back. But it does aaaaaaaaaaall sorts of crazy shit. Every day is different. Joint pain, exhaustion, GI trouble, stomach upset, lack of appetite, murderous migraines. The usual for an autoimmune illness. But also wacky shit like costochondritis [painful inflammation of the cartilage of the ribs], random organ inflammation like in my kidneys [not fun], lungs [I had a 3-month stint of chronic bronchitis last winter], and even my heart [very not fun.] Sometimes it likes to attack my “integumentary system” aka shit like my skin and hair meaning I’ll have weeks where my hair just. Sheds. Like a damn cat. It gets everywhere and w/ my long-ass quarantine hair it’s so annoying.

This attack dog immune system does mean it’s unlikely for me to catch little bugs like your common colds and stuff, which is appreciated. But it also likes to maul anything else it deems foreign. Like medication! I took Humira shots for a few months and had a “paradoxical reaction” aka it did the literal opposite of what it was meant to, because the injections pissed off my immune system so much it went scorched-earth on whatever it could. Mostly my thighs, since that’s where the injections were. I still get stabbing pain in them and it’s been over a year. [No, I don’t think I can sue Humira over this. Though I have discussed it w/ my Dr.]

This also means that if I do get sick, it’s bad news. Something strong and unique like COVID? Death. Deaaaaaaaaath. Would likely trigger something called a “cytokine storm” aka my immune system nukes everything and my organs die and so do I.

So guess whoooooooo’s been locked up at home for almost a full year now? :’)

I luckily am able to work from home, though it barely pays the bills, and my health has suffered from a lack of being able to Do Stuff I normally would.

As a result I decided to get back in touch with myself.

It started with Second Life, because of course it did. A new dragon avatar came out. Shiny and mesh and easy [by SL standards] to modify. So me and a few friends [some kin, some not] made a group for sharing stuff for the av and just hanging out. It’s fallen by the wayside unfortunately but those nights spent chilling in SL with a bunch of other dragons roaring and goofing off felt really really good.

And then I made a kin Twitter. [And found some exceptionally cool kinfolk in the process.] 

Then came Othercon the virtual otherkin convention and OtherConnect, the Discord spawned from the community that rapidly formed within the con. Othercon felt incredible. Panels and lectures about the history of otherkinity and alterhumanity and how we are today and rep in the media and just so! Much! Cool! Stuff! And tons of great kinfolk too! 

To not only be within a community but seeing others like me and speaking with them, not just typing back at words on a screen. It was...so very, very reaffirming. It felt like a second awakening almost. I wanted to cry for finally, truly not feeling alone.

And now I’m here. Because I need to be. Because something, deep down, is telling me I’m going to be needing myself sometime soon. So I’d better get started.

I hope I don’t drift away on the tide again. I’ve missed this site, worse for wear as it is.

But I’m a bit tired today. A nasty headache lingering from yesterday’s nastier flare up. Accursed cold fronts. I used to enjoy them but not so much these days. Ah well.

I know there wasn’t much kin talk in this first entry, but as I said, we had a lot of catching-up to do!

[yyxgin]

i think what bugged me the most is i could say ‘they’re literal depression pills/they made me depressed’ and could reel off the side effect word for word (1/10 will experience mood swings (sometimes in the form of depression)) which was literally the first fricking side effect listed and the most common and she would still refer to it as me being sad literally seconds later in a convo. okay i never went to the doctor but when it occurred to me that, hey, something isn’t right, we were in the middle of a fucking pandemic!! i mean, we still are, but you get the point. this was right at the beginning when they basically closed everything as well so even if i wanted to i wouldn’t have been able to go see someone about it. but it’s whatever now, i don’t take them and i don’t have to give her any advice about them ✌️ i completely get the lack of validity about your emotions. that’s exactly how i felt.

i work so im not bothered about seeing people as i see them enough by my standards already but there is a helpful little voice in the back of my head reminding me that i still need to see my friends!! from before i got a job lol. i worked like 55 hours? my first proper week when i wasn’t on reduced hours and now i work maybe 30? which annoys me so i’m gonna ask for more bc i wanna buy a car and insurance. you still go to school, right? i feel like you’re more stressed about work considering you’re studying too. or were. have you just broken up from school? i don’t study, thank fuck, anymore, so i can do full time but i always get put on evenings so i’m thinking of getting a 9 to 5 bc then i can get the money i need.

a woman was rude to me bc her takeaway wasn’t ready bang on the clock when she turned up to pick it up. man it took literally every fibre in my being not to tell her to fucking leave me alone bc i’m a waitress?? what does she expect me to do??? i found out after but apparently our website tells you to allow a 15 minute slot when you order takeaway to pick up. i checked on this woman’s takeaway and told her it’d be ready in 10 minutes and she said sumn along the lines of ‘so 10 past 8?’. imma tell you straight i wasn’t looking at my phone so i assumed that meant the time was 8pm! (it wasn’t) she said to me ‘and i assume you’ll be knocking money off of the bill for that?’ and i politely replied ‘i can’t do that.’ bc i literally cannot. has to be a managerial figure. bearing in mind she’s already paid in full online???????? n she replies ‘do you wanna go suggest that?’ and nods towards the kitchen and i said no and walked off. the AUDACITY??? anyway i told my manager and she rolled her eyes and was like we don’t do partial refunds and said she’d talk to the woman when her order was ready. this woman was all up in my face saying ‘do you think that’s a reasonable time?’ asking if she should come back at 8:10 and im like idfk?? i have things to be doing can you fuck off?? no i didn’t say that but she says ‘i’ve got kids in the car with the engine running’ and i deadpanned ‘i didn’t tell you to leave your kids in the car with the engine running’ bc it was the first thing my brain thought of that wasn’t ‘sounds like a you problem to me’. in the end she left and came back but when she came back she was properly shouting at another waitress i work with and the girl was like 😄 your food was ready 20 minutes ago but you didn’t leave your details to be able to ring you to tell you it’s ready. she even re-mentioned the kids in the car saying they were starving and it was all our fault and the girl was like hmm okay. and then the woman said she was gonna leave a bad review on trip advisor!! and the waitress was like 😃 you do that bestie!! another great day on the grind :D (i forgot to say we were swamped on saturday so that’s why everything was so busy but she was literally the only one complaining that bad, like literally everyone could see we were struggling but they also were saying to wait staff things like ‘i know you can’t make things go quicker back there’ while we were apologising for the phat delay on their food).

another funny one (that made the barman laugh when i told it to him) was a grandma and a grandson in my section. the grandma was dictating his life jesus 😭 (not important but made me go 😳) but one of the girls cleared the table partially when i was doing sumn else so i finished it off and when we get back to kp she tells me the grandma complained the food was cold and without hesitation i said ‘well she fucking ate it all so tell her to fuck off and talk to someone who gives a shit’. she went quiet and i was like,, man i hope i didn’t scare her. but like. they cleared their plates. there was no food left. she didn’t call someone over. she didn’t say anything to anyone when they ask if it was okay. why wait until the end?? anyway i told thé barman and he giggled (he’s got a lovely laugh in my opinion bc it sounds like he’s snickering at everything). i was NOT going to tell my manager bc there’s literally no point. same day, later on, a man said his mussels were cold, i took them back and the kitchen cooked them again. i’d barely put the food down before he called me over (this one is a good one bc he hasn’t eaten EVERYTHING before complaining and therefore we can do something about the problem‼️) respect to that guy.

one of the girls gave me a lift home last night n the barman directed her right to my house without ever having been to my house before (his cousin used to live in the flats down the other end, he says) and when i messaged her later on thanking her and saying it was a bit sus that he directed her perfectly to mine n she said ‘hmm ben seems to go to yours more than he does his own home 🤔🤔🤔🤔’ bc apparently he was absolute shite at giving directions to his flat 😭 n e way he’s a sweetheart n he says he doesn’t like christmas anymore n he made me sad after he said that n i said i’d post coal through his letter box n he said i might as well n i was like okay this is an actual problem n now i’m gone be super nice to him at christmas bc he deserves so much more that the hand he’s been dealt. this convo happened after i let him try this herbal tea he said smelt nice n i said it tasted like christmas to me. he’s such a good person (despite literally everything he tells me about his past) n i cannot have him being a little humbug. god i think this crush i joked to you about is becoming a soft core friendship. like every fucking wattpad story out there. me n the girls agreed someone has to love him 🥺

okay im signing off now ily ~ 🌻

 i am glad you are feeling better though, nobody deserves to suffer. and nobody deserves to have their emotions invalidated. remember that your emotions matter at all times. <3

yesyes i am still in school !! altough my summer break started on july 1st so i am not that stressed about managing many things at once anymore hh,, also you are working so much ??? damn ?? please remember to take some breaks and relax !! and meet your friends !!! have fun. i know you are saving up money but please dont overwork yourself !

wHY ARE PEOPLE SO RUDE OH MY GOD I SWEAR,,, i learned that while working with people. i just,, it feels like they are all looking down on me just because i am young and work there part-time. like bro,,chill. also i feel kind of bad when they ask me where stuff is and i cant tell them bc i have no idea but at the same time if people were all introverts like me i wouldnt have this problem. :) dfjk jk jk i should improve on that. i wish people were more nice to you !!! who do they think they are ?? like,,,,,why are you rude. this is clearly not your problem.

i like it when people tell you respectfully. like the guy you mentioned. because clearly what are you going to do about the cold food when they’ve eaten it all. where’s the logic. 

IT SOUNDS LIKE HE IS OVER AT YOURS EVERY OTHER DAY DFJAKL that’s so funny. also i am bad at giving directions to my flat as well lmaoo poor ladies that drive me home from work sometimes. also i hate christmas as well lmaoo i feel that boy. its a little hard for me and i hope he doesn’t feel as bad during christmas this year when he has you around hihi,,, i fully stan this friendship. altough i am a big fan of friends to lovers if you know what i mean. in the energy of wattpad :))

ily !!!

[fangirlinglikeabus]

every target novelisation....2!

planet of giants by terrance dicks ok so i think that the reason that this is...good, and an unearthly child was...not good, is because this was written 9 years later when like. other, non-terrance dicks people were also novelising stories and he wasn’t just grinding them out on an industrial level. planet of giants isn’t one of the greats of doctor who but this is a competent adaptation - it doesn’t add much but it does flesh out what’s already there, giving us some backstory elements and making the appearance of giant insects and bodies seem a bit more dramatic than they could manage in 1964. unfortunately it also alters my favourite line from the story (‘i don't know how you know, you're supposed to know!’) and the doctor is weirdly hostile at the beginning (he’s looking forward to ditching ian and barbara, he responds to barbara’s observation ‘drily’ like he’s being a bit sarcastic over her, um, *checks notes* noticing important details). also, dicks describes this in the opening as ‘the doctor’s most grotesque and terrifying adventure’ and i’m like...planet of giants? really??

doctor who and the dalek invasion of earth by terrance dicks ok this one legitimately doesn’t change much at all. it cuts down on some things (including the doctor’s end speech being shorter - i’m assuming that’s a space thing), fleshes out on pov bits as you can in prose, gets rid of the smacked bottom line. bizarrely there are a few times that susan calls her grandfather the doctor which...i’m pretty sure wasn’t there originally. aside from all those small details, yeah it’s basically the same, but it’s well adapted for prose (i genuinely think it stands as a novel in its own right), and depending on your reading speed it might actually be a nice, shorter alternative to the television version - it was around 45 minutes less time for me. some general things i wanted to comment on: the resistance is explicitly shown as kinda gender segregated (exclusively women are preparing food when we first see it) which irritated me; the description of parliament as a symbol of ‘human progress and tradition’ reminded me of blood harvest having the lords/commons system as the Ideal Form Of Government, in terms of how terrance dicks thinks (this may only interest me? idk i very probably spend too much time thinking about the political views of this particular dead dr who script editor); there’s a use of holocaust here that’s technically accurate to what the word literally means but it felt weird to me to use it.

the rescue by ian marter oh man i’ve been busy and this took me aages to read. it kinda...diverges increasingly from the original story as it goes on. we’ve got some scenes with the seeker crew (incidentally one of them says ‘ass’ and i was like???hello???you’re allowed to do that in a dr who book from 1987???), and then most of the expanded stuff is in the climax. dr who and bennett have a full on brawl! ian, barbara and vicki visit a destroyed didoi city on their way back to the tardis! mysterious silver figures! a giant worm encounter! incidentally, this does have way more of a downer ending than the original because it’s strongly implied that the last two of the didoi were killed by seeker crewmembers who fired in a panic, after which the report that forms the epilogue ends with “goodwill to all persons” to give us a taste of bitter irony. so that’s kinda grim. um...there’s actually a lot of little changes and minor expansions to this one as well so off the top of my head: we learn more about why vicki left earth (global warming :/), sandy is a lot more threatening-looking than on screen, the crashed ship gets its name changed to astra-nine, ian and barbara hold hands briefly, barbara’s fall really leaves her beaten up. i like the seeker crew comparing the tardis briefly passing them to various non-police box objects from the future (although the link to china is a bit eastern world=alien association for my tastes), dr who telling vicki ‘give that pretty face a wipe’ is clearly him attempting to cheer her up and it’s not meant to be weird but i found it weird. finally, i’ve gotta say i appreciate ian marter’s commitment to ‘mildly unsettling’ in his descriptions of tardis materialisations. this was the last novelisation he wrote before his death (the book’s dedicated to him) and mild criticisms aside, i do think he’s a good writer and he brings an interestingly different angle to the series. 

the romans by donald cotton oh my god. how do i even start this. i’m not even going to try cataloguing all the changes because this isn’t even close to a straight adaptation. it’s told in the form of various documents collected by tacitus - the doctor’s diary, ian’s journal that he keeps to prove to the headmaster at coal hill that he and barbara haven’t just eloped (i’m not joking, this is the textual reason for it), an assassin’s letters home to his mum, nero’s scribblings, and various other little details. vicki and barbara get less attention than on screen because we don’t see much from their perspective (vicki unfortunately doesn’t even get to chase the assassin out, she just screams in this), and the nero assassination plot is exclusively confined to being mentioned in the epilogue. it’s also a lot broader, or at least consistently broader, which means that ian’s side of things is treated a lot more lightly (which i was personally fine with) but also that we still get nero’s predatory behaviour being played for laughs. there’s also a few comments about women early on that i was unhappy with, and use of fat as an insult. generally, though, i thought this was great! there were a lot of things that i don’t have space or time to include here but i really liked. i guess i’d consider this as a companion piece to the tv version rather than a replacement, which some of these do basically serve as. they tell the same basic story, but they’re so different in a lot of ways that i think it’s worth looking at both. i just checked my notes and remembered this so content warning: poppea sabina’s first section references suicide.

doctor who and the zarbi by bill strutton ok so i think the web planet is boring. i don’t know completely why, i don’t think it’s any one thing, it has some interesting ideas, but it is! it’s fucking boring! anyway, we have a bit more casual sexism in the novel, we’re missing that fun convo about aspirin between vicki and barbara, but really i don’t think it adds or changes much - like even the chapters correspond pretty much exactly to the tv cliffhangers. i guess it’s competently written prose-wise, but i genuinely can’t get over my conviction that this story is boring. am i being unfair? maybe! i like some of the early atmosphere, though, and i appreciate a book which refers to ‘the ship tardis’ (lowercase) and ‘doctor who’ throughout the entire thing. oh yeah, and i encourage you all to look up the illustrations for this. i don’t know who that woman is but she’s definitely not vicki.

doctor who and the crusaders by david whitaker ah yes, the infamous ‘susan married david cameron’ novelisation. tbh i don’t like the crusades and this has the same problems - i don’t care about the english, el akir is every orientalist stereotype whitaker could possibly cram into one man, and That’s Not How A Harem Works. do i think it’s the most egregiously racist doctor who story of all time? probably not! it certainly has sympathetic arabic characters too. but i prefer most other historicals, at least. however, if that isn’t you, i’m sure you’ll get something out of this. there aren’t any particularly extreme changes to the plot structure, although it’s missing some later scenes at the english court, but it’s well written and probably if you like the original you’ll enjoy it more than i did. there’s some dated language surrounding black characters, though, i’m not a fan of the whole ‘we aren’t so different’ speech ian has (because it rests on ‘we all believe in a higher power’ which uh. i don’t. guess that means i’m not ‘civilised’. also generally i don’t like the argument that we should respect each other because of what we have in common - you should respect other people whatever!), and the prologue at the beginning where they muse on history and destiny assumes that the english invaders and the arabs are both equally right in their own ways (the doctor outright says this!)

the space museum by glyn jones so, i really like the space museum. mainly for vicki’s revolutionary fervour, but there are other reasons too. however, i don’t think that this really adds enough to be of interest - although we do get some information about the two alien species’ biology, and a bonus explanation of why everyone speaks english (the moroks briefly considered invading earth so programmed some earth languages into their translation system). there’s a bit more wandering around the museum, some minor tweaks and expansions in other areas, an underground tunnel scene where we learn a bit of the planet’s backstory...ian and the doctor are very snippy to each other in this, which i find funny. oh yeah, and there’s a bizarrely meta bit where ian comments on poor dialogue? basically, this is a book i enjoyed, but really it just makes me want to watch the space museum instead of reading it. just a heads up, there’s a character who briefly considers suicide to get out of his bosses being angry with him. 

the chase by john peel ok before i get started i need to establish that the cover for this one slaps. anyway, i don’t respect john peel at all but this was...alright? doesn’t expand much plotwise (although i suspect both the sand monsters at the beginning and the plants at the end have slightly more to do) but we get a fair bit of pov stuff. unfortunately lacking ian’s dad dancing and hi-fi the panda, the marie celeste bit is no longer played for comedy (barbara angsts over it) and even though the two paragraphs dragging morton dill are kinda funny i’m not sure how i feel about him being committed for claiming he saw daleks. ian and barbara’s departure plays out a little differently. steven is blond for some reason. we learn as well that daleks are charged by solar panels (at least they’re pro-green energy??)

the time meddler by nigel robinson pretty competent, straight down the middle novelisation, although that is tempered by inserting some weird sexist bits for steven and also lowkey being nostalgic for 11th century england at a few points? it’s also a bit more violent than we see on tv, and if anything the rape is more loudly implied, so heads up. other than that, there are a few minor embellishments (we’re explicitly told the dr and monk recognise each other, vicki tells steven that the tardis is important to her because it’s her home, a few differences between the monk’s tardis and the doctor’s are described, vicki views steven following her as a triumphant victory in their power struggle which i personally find funny), and there’s a prologue (recapping steven’s arrival in the tardis) and an epilogue (which delays the monk’s discovery of the broken tardis because he walks to hastings first to try and get involved there). i had fun, but it’s not a must read. 

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

asks (26)

@spickerzocker​ said:

hey there! just a heads up that i tried to click on the "why i don't ship" explanation link in your faq and it says that there is no post with that url/it's generally broken. also your "a conversation about recovery" thing is beautiful and hurts in the best way and i love it. have a nice day!

Yes, I intentionally took that link down awhile ago, and last night I went and updated some of the tabs on my blog. Here are my basic thoughts:

I wrote that link years and years ago, while I was first navigating the internet and while I was still figuring out important things about my own identity and opinions. I ran my blog differently back then, but by the end of the first few months, I knew I was uncomfortable with shipping. 

As people began to interact with me and my work, I told them over and over again no, I don’t want to talk about that, and I don’t want to write about it, and it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t think that was a common position to take at the time, so it wasn’t what people expected from me. 

During those years, I felt like I had to justify myself and give a valid explanation. I wrote that post explaining why I had that boundary, and I put it in a place where anyone could find it.

I said no when people asked, let them make jokes about it, and made jokes about it myself in response. As time went on I got more and more exasperated when I had to repeat myself. I wrote definite rules into my ask box, request tab, and FAQ. People still asked. I wrote it into my description. People still asked. 

The truth is yeah, there’s a pretty simple explanation for my discomfort. It makes sense. It’s easy to understand, and most folks think it’s a “good enough” reason to leave me alone. The difference between young-me and current-me is that I no longer feel the need to justify myself. 

None of y’all need to know why I set the boundaries that I set. My explanation isn’t relevant, and I’m not obligated to give it. I said no. That’s enough. 

I think a good number of folks remember my explanation from the past, and I don’t mind that at all. There may be a time where I talk about it again, in a more appropriate context, so I guess we’ll see.

That’s a lot of information in response to a very helpful ask. Thanks! The link is gone now, and I’m so pleased that you enjoyed the fic :)

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Anonymous said:

U suck

Kenza sent this anon as a joke. She’s right, and I thank her. 

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Anonymous said:

I'm a doctor and ive seen it all.....but the milk fic made me gag

Excellent

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@wingedskyes said:

Ah. Wait. I wasn't on anon....uhm. oh well. It's fine. I like milk and am not ashamed. 😆

I don’t think I received another message from you actually, but I too like milk and I’m glad we’re on the same page

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@thelittleredheadedmusician said:

To add to the milk discussions: my best friend from home and best friend from college have each finished a gallon a milk by themselves within 2 days.

I do that too, every once in awhile. When the milk craving hits it’s a gallon a day

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Anonymous said:

"TIM! POUR HIM. A GLASS OF M A L K!"

Hold on I have to google some things

Yeah this is funny

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Anonymous said:

I have read that milk fic three separate times and every time I’m laughing just as hard as Tim and dick by the end it’s just so excellently executed and builds so perfectly that by the time dick cracks I’m ready to go too and I just lose it it’s amazing I love it

Awww anon I’m so pleased :)

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@the-smartass-under-the-mountain said:

Just wanted to drop by and say your recent fic with Tim antagonizing Damian with increasingly outrageous milk concoctions had me giggling. It was so cute and refreshing to see Dick enjoying Tim's little prank. And Bruce's reaction to just... walk away was fantastic!

Thank you! I’m always so thrilled when y’all think the jokes hit

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@njtheboywonder​ said:

I havnt really enjoyed a fic in years, but i stopped to read ur fanfic with tim drinking milk just to fuck w dami amd it made me smile. Thanks, for writing it.

Oh that warms my heart <3

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@bruciewayneisbatman​ said:

Tim Is totally the guy who would drink ridiculous amounts of dalgona coffee to annoy damian, according to that fic.

Had to google that one, but I guess so huh

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Anonymous said:

(diff anon) but that birthday fic was so good oml and you have opened my eyes as to the batfam in quarantine this is such a Concept

We’re all here dying..... together...

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Anonymous said:

Happy birthday! 🎉 or belated! 🎂 thank you for being in the fandom. 😊

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Anonymous said:

To anon! Sorry. I forgot to add that! Anyway, thanks to them we get a lovely fic. I hope you have many more birthdays! 😊

Message for you anon

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Anonymous said:

Your writing gives off good vibes

Hear that guys I “passed my vibe check.” Is that what the youth say these days? I am an elder now and I do not know

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Anonymous said:

finding your blog while being relatively new to batman fandom is such a bliss. your batfam content especially is *chef's kiss* amazing.

Thank you my darling :) I’m glad you’re here

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Anonymous said:

Best line in a fic? Hard to pick just one, but this particular one from "Just Desserts" by fyeahbatmanandrobin on Tumblr is one of my faves: “Anyone else would be hard-pressed to provide the particular brand of excitement you bring to my life, Dami.”

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@noisypaintersong​ said:

For the line thing: "I don't doubt it. Bruce Wayne, the unexpectedly normal guy wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a superhero wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a fake socialite wrapped in a businessman wrapped in a secretive billionaire." He paused. "…You're the seven-layer burrito of Gotham," he pondered. - Barry to Bruce in 'Of Friends and Foes' by Paganpunk2 on FFN. It's one of the funniest things I've read someone say to Bruce LOL

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@kirakats​ submitted:

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Anonymous said:

“I do know that according to everyone else, there is no chance, no future, no universe where I stay a hero.” Describes my frustration with the way DC treats Damian so accurately. Let the kid be a hero dammit.

Thanks! That’s really helpful. I’ve got a decent answer to my question now. 

@kurawastaken​ submitted:

So this is Kenza retaliating against me for the milk fic. I very much hate tomatoes and specifically ketchup. This photo (1) is a nightmare and (2) fulfills its intended purpose.

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Anonymous said:

I love your blog!!!

And I love you 

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Anonymous said:

quick question: how do you think jason reconciles with the fam?? i think in the comics they kinda just reboot and now he’s on better terms. but like what conversations happened, yknow??? (you’re doin great work by the way, it rips out my heart but it’s great)

This is an amazing question, and I’ll be thinking about it for the next bit, I think. That would be a really interesting topic to explore in depth

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@angel-gidget​ said:

*hugs you real tight* would you please send this to the first 10 people in your dash? Make sure someone gets a hug today and stay safe!

Oh thank you for the hug <3

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Anonymous said:

I hadn’t been aware of that Memphis petition, but I live in Memphis too (Altho I know you said you just grew up there so you may not be living here currently haha) so ig I just wanted to say thanks for bringing it to my attention!

!!!

I’ve been in Texas for six years now, ever since I started school, but I’m still in and out of Memphis for family purposes. Love the trash heap of my birth 

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@damianwaynerocks​ said:

hey! any chance you know of any other dc heroes around damian’s age?

Sure! You could try Billy Batson, Jon Kent, or Maya Ducard

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Anonymous said:

hi! i don't know if it's okay to leave anons like these but ive been feeling down because my country has passed a bill that deprives us of lots of human rights freedom and i want you to know that i just found your blog through the damian/bruce + justice fic and it comforted me. im slowly going thru your works and so far they are all comforting. i love your stuff, thank you.

Philippines? I’ve heard some things, and I’m real sorry y’all’re going through that. I don’t know that there’s anything I could say about that to help, but I hope you’re finding joy somewhere

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@awesomeness-ofgaybitches​ said:

Tumblr hates you. The links in your bio and to your fic masterlist don't work on mobile. I'm sorry.

FUCK

[nkp1981]

Part 4 of a story with an angry cook named Joe and a quiet book nerd named Nicky

Part 3 can be read here: https://bit.ly/3jpcVrU

There were only two people in the world at the moment, who knew that Joe came from old money: himself and the lawyer Le Livre, Joe paid to do stuff, he didn’t bother to do himself like paying the bills. Joe had found Mr. Le Livre in Brussels years ago, when Joe heard a story about a lawyer, who had risked his reputation on defending an Egyptian boy, who was accused of assaulting a local man and won the trial but got fired for taking a case, because it wasn’t company policy. So, Joe had traveled to Brussels and found Le Livre in a pub half drunk, but had taken the time to listen to Joe between two pints, and asked Le Livre if he had meant what he had said in the article, that he wanted to work pro bono helping people. Le Livre then had told Joe that it was his plan but no one in Brussels would lend him the money for an office, so he was planning on moving away. Joe then asked Le Livre to meet him at an address tomorrow sober. At first Le Livre didn’t want to show up, because he didn’t know what to think about Joe, but in the end if Joe needed a lawyer it could be his last case, before leaving Brussels for good. In the morning, Le Livre showed up at the address and found Joe on the top floor. “Do you see Le Livre, I need a lawyer to help me with my inheritance, who doesn’t ask to many questions about what I uses my money for, so If I pay every expenses for you, you can establish your own law firm as long you keep to these conditions: you keep on helping people pro bono no matter where in the world and that you stay away from the bottle. You can have a drink to celebrate a victory but no more than that, but if I ever hear that you got drunk at work or private I’ll fire you without blinking and your law firm will go to another person, who can live up to the conditions.” Joe said in a tone that made Le Livre sign the contract, because he liked that Joe was all business. That was four years ago, and Le Livre was now leading one of the world’s best human rights law firms. After Le Livre had gotten over the shock that Joe asked him to send 50.000 dollars, which was more money than Joe had used in the time, they had known each other, Joe asked him to pay the hospital bills for Nicky and handle some shopping for him before 5pm.

When Joe reached the dinner, his boss shook her head. “Wow on time for once.” Nile joked as Joe came into the kitchen. “Only because I need to get off two hours before.” Joe replied in the hope that Nile was in a good mood. “You do know that Friday is our most busy day, right?” Nile asked and looked at Joe, who somehow seemed a changed man to her. “Fine, but only if you can convince Frank to get in earlier, because Susie is gonna need help.” Nile said and left the kitchen, while Joe called Frank, who after some persuasion agreed on taking those 500 dollars Joe offered.

When Joe came home, he was thankful that Le Livre worked fast as always, when he saw all the bags with things, he had ordered. Joe then went into the library to give it a quick cleaning, before he took the duvet and pillow, which he laid on the sofa, so Nicky could use it as a bed. Then Joe looked in the different bags cursing, that he had forgotten the clothes, so he took a look in his closet, where there was only one clean shirt left, but then he remembered that he had some boxes with clothes in another room. After some searching Joe found a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a warm sweater and after taking a sniff at it to make sure it didn’t smell moldy, he put in his backpack together with a pair of boots. The last thing Joe did before leaving the apartment was to get all of his drawings out of the way, so Nicky wouldn’t think that he was one of those creepy stalkers.

At the hospital Nicky had spent most of the evening thinking about how to get to the bathroom, but because his ribs still were hurting like hell every time he moved, he knew, he had to make it to the bathroom with less than four steps. It was easy enough to get to the bathroom, but when he wanted to get back to the bed, he got hit by the pain and because his balance still was off a bit, he prepared himself mentally, that he would hit the floor face first, but someone caught him. “We can’t keep on meeting like this.” Joe joked and helped Nicky over to the bed. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on making it into a habit.” Nicky replied surprised over, that Joe actually had kept his promise and came back, and he let Joe help him over to the bed, where Joe placed the blanket over him, before he sat down on the chair, that Nicky had insisted on not to be moved. “Did you get fired?” Nicky asked in the hope to keep the conversation going. “I’m never gonna be my boss’ favorite, but she tolerates me, because I won't give away the recipe of my Tunisian eggs, which is the most favorite dish on the menu card.” Joe replied, while taking off his jacket. “So, it is kinda a Mexican standoff between you two?” Nicky asked, which made Joe smile, because he had never thought of it like that. “Yeah, you can call it that.” Joe replied and took Nicky’s hand again, which made them both smile like shy teenagers. “So, what did the Doctor say?” Joe wanted to know, and Nicky took a minute before answering, because he wasn’t used to someone taking an interest in him beside Andy and he wanted to enjoy the feelings it gave, when Joe held his hand.. “That I might need an operation for my heart, but the Doctor says, that he will know more in three months’ time.” Nicky explained and looked down at the blanket, because he was sure that Joe would run away over that information, but instead Joe placed a finger under his chin, so they could look at each other. “We will cross that bridge at that time. Together.” Joe replied in the same trusting tone, that somehow gave Nicky some hope for the future for the first time ever. “Oh no!” Nicky said, when he saw Andy with the Glucometer. “Stop it.” Andy said and gave Nicky a gentle slap on the head. “Good you’re here, Yusuf. I show you how it works, what you need to look for and what to do, when needed. I don’t care if you sit on him, when you’re measuring his glucose, but it has to be done until he starts to do it by himself.” Andy said in a commanding tone and looked at Joe, who was hoping that he didn’t have to sit on Nicky, while doing it. Reluctant Nicky lent a finger to Andy and it took only three tries, before Joe understood it and took all the papers, Andy handed Joe about food and correct care for a person with diabetes and heart problems. “I’ll check in on you before you leave tomorrow.” Andy said as the last thing, before she left them alone. “I think she means it well.” Joe said and looked at Nicky, who was suckling on his sore finger. “I know, but her way of showing it at times is a bit harsh.” Nicky replied and looked at Joe in the hope that he would not be like that. “Anyway, are you hungry?” Joe asked and opened his backpack. “Only if it’s better than the dinner I had. I still doubt that beans were beans.” Nicky replied and looked at Joe and opened the bag with figs. “What’s that?” Nicky asked intrigued over the fruit, he hadn’t seen before and took one to take a closer look at it. “Don’t bite in it yet.” Joe said and took the fig from Nicky’s hand and sliced it into half before adding some honey on it. “This is one of the best things I've ever tasted.” Nicky said with a big smile, when he had eaten the first one, and Joe gave him a second, while they both felt a feeling, they had never had before flushing in over them, that this was probably one of their happiest moments in their life. They talked a bit until Nicky fell asleep, and Joe ran once again a couple of fingers through Nicky’s hair, before he took Nicky’s hand and started to read the papers Andy had given him.

In the morning Nicky woke to see Joe sleeping still holding on to his hand, but he didn’t pull it away. Instead he looked out of the window on the rain, but when a thunderclap could be heard, Joe woke. “Morning.” Nicky said and sat up, while Joe ruffled his curls. “Morning. I have to admit, there are days, where I miss the warm steady weather, you find in Tunis.” Joe replied and looked out of the window. “Well, I have only been to Genova, where I was born and now, New York, when I got the scholarship, but one day, I want to see the world. I even got a list over the five places ready I plan to see.” Nicky said and for the first time without any protesting, he let someone check his bloodsucker. “Want some company on that trip?” Joe wanted to know and checked the numbers from the Glucometer. “We barely know each other, besides that you got a temper and habit of stalking me, and then there is me, who is sick, and now you want to go traveling with me?” Nicky asked surprised. “Where I’m from, people have gotten married with less information about each other, and still I’m sorry that I stalked you.” Joe replied and looked sorry at Nicky. “It was my luck in the end, but could we agree that it is something you will never do again?” Nicky asked and Joe nodded. “What do you say, we make a deal? When you’re feeling better, you show me Genova and I you Tunis. And if that goes well, we go seeing those five places you want to visit.” Joe offered and took Nicky’s hand again. “Sounds like a plan.” Nicky replied and they talked a bit until the Doctor came. While the Doctor checked Nicky over, Joe found Andy. “Listen, could I ask you to come by and check on Nicky? I promise to pay you for the time.” Joe asked in the hope she would say yes, so he shouldn’t spend the time on searching for a nurse. “Sure, I’ll check in once a day. Now, get out of here and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Andy replied as the Doctor came out of the room.

“I hope this fits until we find something else.” Joe said, when he handed Nicky the clothes. “Call, when you’re ready.” Joe added and left Nicky to get dressed. When Nicky got the pants on, he was surprised that they fitted him, because he had always had troubles with finding pants, but most of all he was happy about the sweater even though it was a bit too big. “Joe?” Nicky shouted and gave Joe a smile of gratitude for the clothes. “Thanks for the clothes, but I need some help with the boots.” Nicky said and Joe kneeled, so he could help Nicky. “Do they fit?” Joe wanted to know. “They do and I don’t think I got the money to pay for them.” Nicky admitted. “Don’t think about it. You are still talking with the angry cook and your stalker is paying enough. Ready?” Joe asked and Nicky nodded.

“There is something, I haven’t told you, Nicky.” Joe said, when they stood outside the apartment. “Please don’t tell me, that you also are a murder.” Nicky joked, which made Joe smile. “No, but I promise you to explain everything once you have settled in.” Joe promised and opened the front door, where Nicky got a shock over, how big the apartment was. “If you think this is impressive, then you are in for a surprise.” Joe said dried and led the way to the library, where he finally saw the look return in Nicky’s eyes, that Joe loved so much, when Nicky saw all the books. “As promised, more books than you have probably seen in your entire life. There are also books in some boxes in the room over there.” Joe said and pointed at a room behind Nicky, who nodded, before he went over to the first bookshelf and started to run a finger over the books. “This is absolutely fantastic. I don’t know what to say.” Nicky replied with more joy in his voice than ever. “I let you settle in, while I make something for us to eat.” Joe said, but Nicky didn’t hear the last part, because he was already picking out books to read, before he sat down on the sofa with the first ten books.

When Joe came in an hour later with a cart box, he found Nicky sleeping on the sofa with a stack of books next to him. He had never thought the sight of a sleeping book nerd would bring such joy in his life. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Joe said, when Nicky looked at him with a sleeping look in his eyes. “It’s ok. This is actually a good sofa.” Nicky replied and sat up, while Joe placed the cart box next to the sofa. “Sorry, I don’t have a table, so this has to suffice until I find something better. Hope you’re hungry.” Joe said and looked sorry over, that he hadn’t thought about buying a table, before he left the room to get the food. “Your Tunisian eggs?” Nicky asked, when Joe handed him the plate. “Yeah and between us, there isn’t much Tunisian over them. I just call them that to make them sound more exotic, than they’re since the secret ingredient actually is turkey bacon, so please don’t tell my boss that.” Joe said in a begging tone and watched as Nicky started to eat. “I won’t, because we all have the rights to our secrets.” Nicky replied and they ate, while Nicky tried his best to guess what kind of ingredients Joe had used  in the eggs.

“So, the apartment?” Nicky asked, when they had eaten and leaned back on the sofa, and it took Joe a moment, before he gave Nicky an answer. “I come from what you call old money, which means my ancestors have spent the last five generations earning more money than the last one by build, buying and developing properties. Sometimes in a legal way and other times not so legal. My parents never loved each other or me, because all they saw in me was the sixth generation, so they sent me off to a boarding school in England, when I was seven and in thirteen years, I only saw my parents twice. I guess, that’s where I started acting out by shouting at the quietest person in the room, who was minding his own business, and it’s something, I’m not proud of, Nicky, because you were the first one, who actually made me realize, that what I’ve done in the past isn’t ok at all.” Joe explained and looked at Nicky with an expression, that he still was so sorry for what he had done in the diner. “My parents died in a car accident, when I was twenty leaving me with properties all over the world, and I’ve sold most of them except two: one in Brussel and then this apartment, which my parents never liked, because the windows were wrong.” Joe added and looked at one of the windows. “What’s wrong with them?” Nicky wanted to know. “Don’t ask me. Rich people are often eccentric people.” Joe replied and shook his head. “So are you in a way. Rich boy working as a cook.” Nicky said. “You’re right, and it was actually something, that was meant to be a temporary thing, while I figured out what to do next, which I still haven’t to be honest.” Joe admitted and stood up to clear the table. When Joe returned, he handed Nicky a bottle of water, before sitting down on the floor again. “Guess it’s my turn but my story isn’t as exciting as yours, Joe, since I’m the kid from the orphanage, who no one would adopt, because of my heart. I guess that’s why, I always had my head in a book, so I could imagine for a time to be a part of something.” Nicky said and looked at the stack of books. “Where does Andy fit in?” Joe wanted to know. “I met her when I was sixteen, when she was working as a nurse at the local hospital in Genova. She was the one, who discovered that I had diabetes and yelled at the monks for not taking it seriously, because they thought I was being dramatic. It cost her the job, and when I got to New York a couple of years later, I found her, and she has been my irritated big sister ever since.” Nicky replied and showed Joe a photo of him and Andy, where she was ruffling Nicky’s hair. “That’s explain, why you don’t listen to her.” Joe said and handed the photo back. “I do, but as you know, things haven’t been great the last couple of months, and I think, I might have pushed her away, when all she wanted was to help me like always. Like you I also have a lot of excuses to do.” Nicky admitted and looked at the photo, before he put it back in his book. “I think we'll never be finished with that.” Joe replied and stood up. “Better get some sleep, Nicky, so you can say sorry to Andy tomorrow, when she checks in on you.” Joe added and ran a couple of fingers through Nicky’s hair again. “You have already done so much for me, Joe, but can you not stay here? This library is big enough for both of us.” Nicky asked, and Joe nodded, before he got the mattress, he normally slept on, while Nicky removed the cart box, so Joe could place the mattress next to the sofa. As the darkness crept into the library, their hands found each other and they fell asleep holding on to each other, 

 my creation

[atths--twice]

Onto the next chapter! I hope you are all enjoying this new journey. : ) 

The Sixth Month 2b/6

Chapter Two 

A Houseful of Memories 

At a request from Scully, Mulder makes a stop and picks up some things from the past. 

Walking out of the elevator, they were both still smiling. Mulder gripped her hand in his and headed back outside. Back to the afternoon heat, although it felt a bit cooler. He felt so happy. So at ease.

The baby was fine, Scully was fine and apparently he had some insatiable sex to look forward to again. God, when she was pregnant last time, she had been an absolute animal when it came to sex. Their sex life had been amazing right up until he had been abducted and then presumed dead.

That put a damper on the old libido, he thought with a smile.

But when he came back, after being dead for months, he had felt out of place. Like he did not belong. He was even unsure of the paternity of the baby and not sure how to broach the subject. The IVF had failed, how was she pregnant?

Until she had sat him down, told him he was being a fucking asshole, that she knew he had been through a lot, but so had she, and he needed to knock it the fuck off, did he understand how angry she had been. Angry and so scared. They had not been them and finally she had reached her breaking point. They had talked, really talked. About the baby, about everything.

After that night, they had started getting back on track. Things were better. They had gone back to touching and kissing, but not until the Lamaze class did they really fall back into the sexual aspect of their relationship. Boy, did they ever. And now he had that to look forward to again? He was older, but he was most definitely up to the challenge.

He looked at her, at her radiant smile, the afternoon sun shining behind her and lighting her up. She smiled as she caught his eye, squeezing his hand, and holding his arm with her other hand. The wind blew and she closed her eyes. Happy. She was so happy.

“So, how about we head home, make something delicious for dinner, and see where the night takes us?” Mulder said, as they got closer to the hospital.

She smiled. That sounded great, but she was about to throw a wrench in those plans. A big one.

“Mulder, I have to get back to the hospital for a little bit. There are some things I need to check on before I leave for the weekend. Just a few things. I should be home about seven, eight at the latest,” she said, giving him an apologetic look.

“Oh. Well, that’s okay. I can head home and pick something up on the way. Do you want me to get something to make or pick something up?” he asked as held her hands in his.

“Well, it’s almost 4:00 now, and I have a favor to ask of you. Kind of a big one. You can say no, but I would really appreciate it if you did it," she said, with a hopeful look.

“I’m all ears, Scully. At your beck and call. You can bend me to your will. I am your willing servant.” He grinned cheekily at her.

“You good?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. He smiled and bowed his head. “Okay. So, I stopped by my mom’s house yesterday.”

He squeezed her hands, knowing that she stopped by there sometimes. Mrs. Scully had left the house to Scully when she died. They were still going through the stuff at her house. Pictures, boxes of memories, old outdated clothes, furniture. All of it held meaning to Scully.

“I was walking around, looking at things. Maybe some things I’d like to move to our house. Some photos, maybe some things that could go in the babies room... I don’t know. But, I found some boxes with my name on them. I don’t know what’s in them and I didn’t want to lift them. But, Mulder, I’d like to have them and see what's inside.” She smiled a sad smile and he touched her cheek.

“You want me to stop over and get them for you? That’s not a problem at all Scully. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. I think there are like five, maybe six at most. I’m pretty sure they will all fit in your car.”

“Well, if they don’t I can make another trip. If it makes you happy Scully, then I’m happy to do it.” He cupped her face and kissed her, then pulled her in for a hug.

“Oh, I need to get you the key,” she said as she pulled back, her eyes a little wet.

“No need, I have one,” he said showing it to her on his key ring.

“When did you get a key?” she asked surprised that he had one. Usually if he went, he was with her and she used hers.

“Your mom gave me one years ago,” he said. “Didn’t you know that she did? In case she needed something or.. if I did. To talk or just visit.” He looked sad and she pulled him to her. They held each other, both with their own memories of her, but both mourning a mother. One from birth, the other from respect and then love.

She pulled back and kissed his cheek, letting go of him and walking back to the hospital. She turned and looked at him just before she walked inside and smiled.

A little while later, he pulled up to Mrs. Scully’s house. He sat in the car, at the curb, and stared at it. He had not been completely honest with Scully. Coming here was not really something he liked to do, especially by himself. It made him feel sadness in a different way than being in his own parents homes.

He had to deal with his parents estates when they passed. A lot of the items he donated, some he put in storage, but anytime he was there, he could not wait to leave. Too many unhappy ghosts running around in the house to make him feel any ease.

Scully had come with him a couple of times years ago. She helped him sort through which things he would keep, though most of the time he had just shrugged his shoulders and she had to make a guess. He did not have memories tied to items like Scully did. His memories were dark and mostly sad, not exactly something that would look nice hanging on a wall.

But being here, at Mrs. Scully’s, he had felt the love he had missed out on as a child. Felt accepted and his presence had been welcomed. He stared at the house and told himself to stop being such a pussy. He got out of the car and walked into the house.

The air inside was stale and warm and he hated it. It felt all wrong. Mrs. Scully’s house had always smelled inviting and welcoming, a floral smell that was never too heavy.

He stood in the foyer, looking into the sitting room. He had paced that room when Scully had been missing. He had shown up at odd hours, unable to sleep, to concentrate on anything but finding her. Mrs. Scully had always let him in, no matter the time. She had sat silently in her chair and listened to him rant, watched him as he paced. She did not try to offer him comfort, not at first. He needed to let it out and she knew he needed to do it.

He would eventually tire out and fall to the floor, crying, apologizing to her. She never yelled, never got angry with him. She would come to him and hold him as he cried. She would murmur her comfort then, offer her strength to him, but he would never accept it. This was his punishment and he deserved it. If his past taught him anything, it was how to take on the pain and suffering. How to accept the punishment.

He stepped further into the room and stood exactly where he had when Scully was suffering from mind control. When she thought he was the enemy. Mrs. Scully had stood by his side and then in front of him. Protecting him, as well as Scully. If Scully had shot him, Mulder knew she would have never forgiven herself. Her mother knew that, too. She knew that offering herself in Mulder’s place, would be enough to give Scully pause. To make her give up and see reason.

He felt tears in his eyes as he remembered the image of Mrs. Scully walking to Scully and holding her as she crumbled. That image would be burned in his mind forever. The power of a mother’s love.

He kept walking in further. The dining room table where they had so many meals. Where they played Scrabble. Mrs. Scully laughing as he and Scully got into an argument over acceptable words. She would drink a glass of wine and watch them bicker until one of them would cave and move on.

The kitchen where Mrs. Scully made the most delicious food. She always had enough to feed an army, making sure Mulder had as much as he wanted, and sending them home with leftovers, every time. That food had been his sustenance when Scully was at the hospital working long shifts. He would come out of his office, starving from missing meals as he pored over articles. Finding those little containers of plastic ware full of delicious food, had kept him going. His heart ached as he realized he never quite properly thanked her for that.

He walked back toward the front door and up the stairs. The upstairs bathroom held a special memory. He had come up there to escape Bill one year. Bill had been poking at him all night. Jabs about his job at the FBI, or his past one, seeing as he did not have a job anymore. How was Mulder going to provide for his sister? What was his plan?

Scully had jumped in and told Bill to shut his fucking mouth. She was a doctor and she did not need anyone to “take care of her," had not needed it for years. Bill had yelled back that she was wasting her life with a fucking loser like Mulder. And then Scully had slapped him. Hard.

Mulder had quietly slipped away, catching Mrs. Scully’s eye. Not because he was scared or weak, but because he did not want to cause a problem in her home. He had wanted to punch Bill in the face and he knew coming upstairs was a better choice. He had been pacing in the bathroom when someone knocked three times. Scully.

He opened the door and she shoved her way in. Her eyes were blazing and she was angrier than he had ever seen her. She had paced and then grabbed him and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him roughly, their teeth and tongues clashing. She had pushed him back and hopped up on the counter. She had pulled him to her and locked her legs around him, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him back to her. He had rounded second and was going for third, when someone else had knocked on the door.

Mrs. Scully’s voice had come through the door telling them it was time for dessert. Mulder had waggled his eyebrows at Scully and she grinned. She had called to her mother they would be down in a minute, as Mulder helped her down. As she had stepped past him, she brushed her fingers over his crotch, making him jump. She had whispered she would take care of that later and began to readjust her clothes; getting her breasts back in her bra, tucking in her shirt, smoothing down her hair.

They had walked downstairs and to Mulder’s surprise, Bill was still there. His cheek had been very red which Mulder found highly amusing. He sat at the table and Mrs. Scully brought him a piece of cobbler. He noticed it was a bit larger than Bill’s and he looked up at her. She glanced at him and then rubbed his back.

His fondness for her grew in that moment. She was telling him, once again, that he was welcome, he did belong there, and she knew how much he cared for Scully. That he was enough.

He felt his breathing pick up, almost like a panic attack when he heard his phone beep. He jumped and cursed. The past meeting the present, as he saw a text from Scully:

“I realized I didn’t tell you which room the boxes are in. The first bedroom to the right, top of the stairs. They are in the closet. Thank you again for doing this for me. I know you don’t like going over there much, especially on your own. Too many ghosts, huh? But I appreciate it. Thank you, Mulder.”

He smiled as he read her message. So she knew. He did not have to tell her, she just knew. Of course she did, it should not surprise him. His phone beeped again with another message from her.

“Big, small, and every way in between, Mulder.”

He grinned and sent one back to her:

“Bring home some earplugs.”

He put his phone away and closed the bathroom door. He went into the first bedroom and saw the boxes in the closet. Scully was right, there were five of them. She had failed to mention one thing though. Not only did they have her name on them, but his as well. “Dana and Fox” in Mrs. Scully’s handwriting.

These must be from when they were first hiding out, laying low, fugitives from the law. He never really thought about what happened back home. His main thought was for Scully’s safety, then his own. He did not think that people were back home, taking care of things. Packing and making sure their combined homes were seen to. Obviously, Mrs. Scully was there, making sure these boxes were safe. Keeping them all these years, never asking for the closet space back.

He touched the boxes where her handwriting was, their names boldly written across it. Too much. It was too much. He dropped to his knees on the floor, his head against the boxes and he wept. Deep wracking sobs.

Two and a half years had passed since she died and it hit him like a ton of bricks in that moment. She was gone. The mother he never deserved but who never gave up on him. Always accepted him. Always loved him. The woman who went out of her way to get him wonderful birthday and Christmas gifts. The woman who trusted him to hold her daughter’s heart and did not hate him when he broke it.

He wept knowing that she would never know they had found William. That they had stood in a gas station and watched Scully on a surveillance tape, having a conversation with him, but unaware it was him. That Mulder had tracked him down, held him.. and then they saved him. Together they worked to bring their boy to them. He could no longer think. It was too much. He just let the tears fall.

He had no idea how long he knelt there, but he felt drained and at peace simultaneously. He staggered off his knees and looked at the boxes again. He put his hand on the top one and whispered, “thank you” before taking the first box down the stairs. Up and down he went until they were all in the foyer.

Then back and forth he went until they were all in the car. He came back and stood in the foyer again. He closed his eyes and he could hear Scully’s laugh ring out at some crazy thing he had said and Mrs. Scully’s laugh answered hers. He could smell the floral smell of the house, the wine they drank, the food they ate.

He opened his eyes and the air was still again, heavy. He took a deep breath and turned to leave. He looked back and once again pictured her standing there, between him and Scully. Their protector. The mother he never expected, but the one he had always needed.

“Thank you.. Mom,” he said quietly. His words hanging thickly in the heavy air.

He walked out the door and locked it behind him. He got in the car, buckled in, and looked to make sure there was no traffic coming before pulling away from the house.

He looked in the rear view mirror and for a second, he could swear he saw her standing there on the porch, waving goodbye like she had done hundreds of times. When he turned his head, the porch was empty. He checked his mirror again and it was still empty. But he knew what he saw. He saw her smiling at him and waving. Her eyes shining with happiness.

He smiled, but felt a lump in his throat. He looked at the boxes and realized something. He was not just bringing “things” home with him. It was love. The love they had shared in her apartment. The love Mrs. Scully had put into keeping these items safe. The love Scully had for not wanting to part with this house just yet. Needing to keep her mom close to her still. His love, for coming over and facing his feelings even if he did not like it.

His love for Scully would make him walk through fire. Whatever was in these boxes, already held a special place in his heart.

One last glance in the rear view mirror and he took off. His heart felt light and happy. He rolled the windows down and let the breeze blow through the car. He turned left and headed for home... bringing love to his love.

____________________________________________________

So, just a side note, I do not believe that Mulder would drive that Mustang. It’s impractical and so not “him” to me. He has an SUV. The one he had in TLAOFS and RM9... something that can hold a sleeping bag, or a blanket roll in the back, for those nights he wants to take Scully camping, but she insists on a bed of sorts, because she doesn’t deserve to sleep on anymore forest floors. And soon that car will be the one that takes his OTHER girl camping and on many amazing adventures.

That Mustang was ridiculous for HIM, let alone a family.