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enragedzombie · 2 years

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Vent Post

I've spoken before about how awful my local doctor's practice is but more things have happened which I need to scream into the void.

I've been called up for jury duty, I received my citation letter around the start of the month. In that time, I have been trying to contact my doctors office. Now, on top of the usual anxiety, I also have something going on with my attention and memory. I don't know what because the doctors are reluctant to send me for assessment (pretty much all of my stuff fits with ADHD but could also just be my depression which I've been trying to get sorted for 10+ years with this doctors office). So I'll set an alarm, it will go off and I'll see it and think "I should do that task" and then I either don't do it, get distracted and completely forget until the alarm goes again the next day, or I put the online consultation form in but don't hear back. With the online form, you're supposed to hear back the next day at most but the service is unreliable and eats forms.

It got to the point where last week I sent in a consultation form and never got e-mail confirmation which is when I knew something was up. I would have called in sooner but anytime you call the practice, they literally tell you off for not using the online service, they won't even take calls for prescriptions or administration, their first thing is to very rudely say about why call and then tell you to use the form. It's annoying because as I said, the form is unreliable. But, I phoned because the form I sent in on Monday did have e-mail confirmation of appointment but nobody got in contact on Tuesday and jury duty is now the next week.

I called them and the woman I got was very helpful, told me that she can make me an appointment with my doctor on Thursday as he only works Thursday and Friday. I thanked her and then e-mailed the jury duty people but they said their office is closed Thursday and Friday for the jubilee holiday. I phoned the doctors office back immediately so that I wouldn't forget and asked if I could get a different doctor sooner as it was time sensitive. It was a different woman but she was very understanding and told me that if I put in an online form they'll mark it for the doctor and they'll speak to me the next day (Wednesday). I thanked her and she cancelled the appointment for Thursday and that was that.

NOW comes the bad part. NOBODY phoned me on Wednesday. I stayed in ALL day, didn't walk the dog, didn't even shower because I didn't want to miss this call. I waited all day and then phoned the practice when it became apparent that nobody would be calling. The woman I then got was called Karen and let me tell you if I wasn't on the verge of a panic attack I would have found it funny, she embodied the name. She informed me that the doctor (the head of the practice) does not believe in GP Letters as it does not align with his personal beliefs. She says it goes against his principles. I didn't know what to say but I asked why nobody contacted me even to say that and she informs me that he moved the appointment to Thursday for a different doctor. I then informed her that Thursday would be too late, hence why we changed the appointment. She couldn't understand how the days events would upset me. I told her that I asked for a sick note, and if he would be comfortable writing one of those and note a letter, she then tries to say I did not ask for that?? She also tells me that I said they could contact me on the 06/06 which is the date I have jury duty. When you fill in the online form, I always get them to e-mail a copy of my consultation to me. I had my answers on a PDF in front of me which was e-mailed to me after sending in the consultation, I could see exactly what I wrote. In my answer, I wrote "contact BEFORE 06/06" and "sick note". The woman was getting huffy with me and began speaking over me as I answered her to inform me that jury duty folks don't accept sick notes for exemption and she knows this because they handle a lot of these. I told her that it says sick notes on the website and the citation letter as well as the e-mail conversation I've had with a member of staff. She continued to talk over me (bearing in mind I was in tears at this point, panic attack incoming, anxiety and stressed just the whole works because I was jerked around by the doctors office).

So when she talked over me again I told her to "let me finish" she then went full blown outburst on me about how I can't say that and not be like that with her. I wrongly assumed doctors office receptionists had to have some understanding of mental health situations, be able to deal with panic attacks, emergencies etc but apparently not they can just be assholes to people in panic mode. So, she tells me to wait and she'll phone back after asking the doctor about sick notes rather than a GP letter.

She calls back and tells me he still will note write even a sick note as it is against his principles/personal beliefs. I was speechless, because they'd utterly screwed me over and I didn't know where to go from there. She then tells me it was "unfair to only give them two days notice for a doctors note and I shouldn't have expected it anyway". I very politely informed her that I had been trying to get in touch for quite some time at this point. She very rudely again told me that "other patients have gotten in touch". I didn't know what to say to that either and was just shutting down as that's what I do at this point, but she then adds "you managed to get in touch today". So I thanked her and hung up the phone. On top of the anxiety I have of just having to call the place (which we are told not to do) I had to deal with that nonsense. Now I have to wait for my regular doctor to call today (hopefully) and then take the note with me on Monday and hope they accept it which I was told was my only other option by the jury people via e-mail.

This place is hell and I'm changing practices as I cannot keep going to this place it will kill me. I've debated reporting the issue with the receptionist and perhaps the doctor but I don't know if I should. I really wish I'd reported the last incident but my mother talked me out of it. The doctor I had back then left the practice (she was a temp as people are constantly leaving the practice) and I was on medication and a waiting list for mental health services. I had to find a new doctor for my medication after she left and the doctor I spoke to after basically listened to my symptoms and how I felt suicidal and told me "I don't really think you're depressed, you have a cushy life" she then told me to get back to work and stopped my medication without renewal for lowering the dosage which meant I was sick for a time after since I stopped a high dosage I'd been taking for months in a day. The place is shocking and I'm still not sure what to make of it.

#probs delete later #doctor's practice #zombietalks #personal #vent post #we have good physical health care #but we are in the middle of a mental health care crisis #and I am not surprised given how my doctors office is #half don't believe in mental health problems #the other half don't want to take action #and one doctor actually listens and tries to help #I just feel very tired and done after this #like I want to kill myself and not deal with this anymore #but I also won't cause I live for my dog and can't do that to him #which is cliche but lol it keeps me going #tw:suicide mention

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otdiaftg · 7 months

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The Raven King - Chapter Eleven

Day: Sunday, November 12th Time: 3:10 PM EST

Anytime the Foxes mentioned Andrew's upcoming sobriety or Andrew's name popped up in write-ups on the team's performance at games, the focus was on what a danger he was. People talked about his trial and how it saved them from Andrew. No one said what they were doing to save Andrew from himself. "You told me Cass would never hurt you and would have given you a good education, but you sabotaged your adoption. Officer Higgins came all the way here from the west coast to fix something from your past but you won't help him. You left juvie and killed Aaron's mother to protect him, but instead of fixing your relationship with him you keep him on a leash. You don't want Nicky's parents to hurt him, but you won't let him into your family either. Kevin promised to invest in you but you won't even try. So what is it? Are you afraid of your own happiness or do you honestly like being miserable all the time?" "Neil, look," Andrew said, and pointed up at his own face. "Do I look miserable?" Neil wanted to tear that smile off Andrew's face, but Andrew's obnoxious response wasn't entirely his fault. Neil was dealing with the smokescreen of Andrew's medication. Neither of them could change that, but knowing why Andrew was being difficult didn't make him less frustrating to deal with. All Neil could do was keep his temper in check. If Andrew got a rise from him the conversation was over. That was what Andrew wanted, so Neil wouldn't give it to him. "You look drugged within an inch of your life," Neil said, "and when you're not medicated you're drinking and dusting. When they finally take your medicine away, who are you going to hurt, really?" Andrew laughed. "I'm remembering why I don't like you." "I'm surprised you forgot." "I didn't," Andrew said. "I just got distracted for a moment there. I told her it was a mistake to let you stay, but she didn't believe me. Now look. Oh, for once I don't even want to bother with the 'I told you so'. You ruin all my fun." "Renee?" Neil guessed. "Bee." Neil's blood went cold. "What did you tell her about me?" Andrew grinned at the look on Neil's face. "Doctor-patient confidentiality, Neil! But don't make such a scary face. I didn't tell her your sad little story. We just talked about you. Critical difference, yes? I told her you're more trouble than you're worth. She was looking forward to meeting you, but she won't tell me what she thinks of you. She can't, you see. But I know she likes you. Bee has a thing for lost causes." "I am not a lost cause." Denial was automatic and a waste of time. Andrew put his hand over Neil's mouth to shut him up and said, "Liar. But that's what makes you interesting. It's also what makes you dangerous. I should know better by now. Maybe I'm not as smart as I thought I was. Should I be disappointed or amused?" The perfect retort burned Neil's tongue, but he kept quiet in case Andrew wasn't done rambling. The answer was there, right out of reach, close enough Neil could feel it, but too far for him to make sense of. Maybe Andrew felt it too, because even in his drugged haze he knew to shut up. The smile he flashed Neil mocked them both at that near-miss. He withdrew completely, leaving just the memory of his heartbeat against Neil's mouth, and spun away. "I'll find Kevin. He's too slow." Neil watched him go, then huffed in frustration and turned back toward the racquet.

Art used with permission by Aymmidumps. Thank you @aymmidumps!

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booiiee · 3 months

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Brooklyn Baby

Pairing: Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) × Female Reader

Tags: Fluff, Hyunjae is WHIPPED, They bicker- a LOT, they love each other so much, it's pathetic actually, eventual smut (duh), separate tags and warnings for smut in the smut chapter. MINORS DNI!!

For @un-love 🩷🩷

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Chapter 1

It's summer of 2024 you've just shifted your whole life to Brooklyn New York, a decision that you and your friends and family had to all collectively take, Brooklyn is expensive and people are rude sometimes but for the first time you're building your life

You love your job, not a lot of therapist can say that specially with how taxing the job can be, but you really love your job, you're one of the most loved therapist at Brooklyn's biggest hospital NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital (yes i googled that) and let's just say you earn enough to have an entire studio apartment to yourself, something that you've come to realize, you love.

Your job is many things but it is not a job where you have a lot of free time, it might even be busier than working at a fashion magazine like your friend Daisy does,some days she is the only reminder of your life back in your home country, and your love for kpop and a certain kpop idol- Lee Jaehyun from The Boyz.

“Miss Rose, the director wants to see you.” your thoughts were interrupted by your assistant Liz- or Elizabeth, informing you of your rather sudden meeting with the director. Now the old Jasmine would absolutely lose it over being called by the director but moving to a place like Brooklyn from India has made you indifferent to these small anxiety triggering things.

To say that you were surprised would be the understatement of the century. The director had assigned you a patient of your busy (lazy) colleague, some VIP, whose case was “of utmost importance” to the hospital, which in itself was making you angry as if one life was worth more than the other. Nonetheless, you were gonna treat this patient like any other patient.

“Hi, Mr. Eric? I am Dr. Rose. I am taking over your case as of today, as informed. Please follow me this way” you introduce yourself to a tall man with freshly dyed brunette hair with a mask. He must be some high profile person given the way he was avoiding the stares from people.

R- You can keep the mask on until you feel comfortable to talk without them, our session can happen without you having to show your face.

E- Oh that is a relief thank you doctor.

R- So tell me Eric, what do you love doing when you are the most stressed and when you have a lot of leisure time?

E- Oh I thought you’d start with asking me my sickness

R- You say sickness like it is a bad thing

E- Is it not?

R- Well being sick is not great but it is not something derogatory.

*No one is born a patient and no one stays a patient till the end*.

*(From Daily dose of Sunshine)

As far as the questions go, if you’d rather me start with discussing your diagnosis, i am happy to do so

E- No its…its okay we can do your method.

I am skipping the actual therapy part because I am neither a licensed therapist nor a psych student to be writing that.

The 3 weeks you were assigned Eric’s case you found that against your better judgment, you guys were becoming almost friends, which is to say was weird in more ways than one. You were his therapist and you did not know what he looked like. You never asked him to take off his mask. He never mentioned why he prefers to wear one. So you decided you’d start and stay away from him in the hospital corridors when you often bump into each other after his session with your colleague.

E- I know we are not supposed to be friends and all that protocol, but you have really helped me in ways i could never explain and i am not the best person when it comes to gifts but i asked my friend j and he suggested this since you like to read- i've seen all those books in your office

Your gasp was audible to not only Eric but a few staff around as he pulled out a blue box. Eric quickly pulled you aside and for the first time, took off his mask.

R- You’re THE Eric?????

E- I mean I dont really say that about myself but i think you know me? Which is even better, so you know that i can afford this and im not robbing a bank for this gift, which also is not the case cause J bought this really-

R- Wait, I WILL not accept that, and give me a minute Wow! okay.

Eric, hi, I love your music and you'd understand when i say how weird this is to know my patient is a member of the group i love

E- aww doc you’re a fan. That makes me wanna be your friend even moore

R- Yeah, we’re gonna…we’ll talk about that later.

Wait, you're Eric from TBZ, so your friend J who often drops you to your session, the one who bought this SUPER EXPENSIVE gift, is J, Jaehyun? As in, Lee Jaehyun?

E- Yup you got that right! The one and only! In Fact he is on his way up, now that you’ve seen me, we can all talk comfortably

R- Oh No… no no, NO.

E- But why? Do you not like Hyunjae? *Gasp* Are you a hyunjae antiii??

R- WHAT???? NO! I could never hate my Hyunjae! not in this lifetime for suree!!!

“Well that’s good to know, Miss Rose”

You could identify that voice in a room full of noisy people, let alone the silence of the corridor, so you had no choice but to tun around and see a curly haired masked man smiling at you. Oh this is not good for your job.

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Chapter 2 will be posted super soon!!

#hyunjae fluff #hyunjae #lee jaehyun #tbz #tbz hyunjae #tbz × reader #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #the boyz fluff #kpop boygroups

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romanarose · 4 months

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For the Longest Time: Scenes (From an Italian Restaurant)

Santiago Garcia x Lacina Dumas Francisco Morales x Jana Fernandez William Miller x Lorelei Giang Benjamin Miller x Alice McCarthy Special Guest: Cameron MacDonald

Masterlist : Triple Frontier Masterlist :Playlist

Join my taglist!

Summary: Individual scenes from the perspectives of all the characters with a sneak peak to someone yet to be introduced.

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, pregnancy, potential for miscarriage but it doesn't happen. Mentions of sexual abuse, hinting of bulimia. Usual themes.

A/N BONUS CHAPPY. I tried by very best with vietnamese but I don't have any vietnamese friends so ask, but i took a good amount of googling and tried to make it sound natural.

Once again, Romana's fics do not pass the Bechel test. I need help. I am a horrible feminist.

Santi

When Santi reached the ER, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around Laci's waist. She was wearing a short pink skirt, and he knew she wouldn't want her underwear out for everyone to see. Laci hadn't said anything the whole ride, nor the whole doctors visit, and that was expected. She was so checked out, in shock... it had been a long time since Santi saw her like this. The 1000 mile, dead-eye stare and the blood on her pretty face reminded him so much of the day he found her that he found himself having flashbacks.

Santi could not believe he let this happen. All the times he promised her he'd never let anyone hurt her again, and yet he had. It was who he had least expected, a member of his own family laid a hand on his wife, and Santi was going to make him pay. Will and Lorelei couldn't protect him forever.

The hospital was especially hard. Santi was reminded, as he stood by the bedside holding her hand of when they first took her to the embassy, how she had to endured interview after interview and exam after exam, retraumatizing her over and over.

To his extreme relief, it seemed she and the baby were okay.

"You here that, Lacina?" Santi spoke gently, squeezing her hand. "He's alright, our son is okay... everything is alright...." He caressed her soft hair. Laci didn't speak, but her eyes began to fill with tears, and soon Santi's did too "I'm sorry for everything, princess. I'm sorry for how it's been, but babygirl" He kiss her forehead, right on the scar she always tried to hide. "Nothing matters more than you, nothing matters more than our family. Last name, baptism, everything, it's yours."

They had to answer a few questions with a police officer, given the nature of what happened. Once it was clear Santi hadn't hurt Laci, Laci giving her statement via notes app, the officer asked if she wanted to press charges against Ben. Santi assured her she could, that he'd support her the whole way. He loved Ben, hell he still did. That was his brother. But he hurt Laci. Laci, of all goddamn people while she was in the stage of pregnancy most venerable to miscarriages from falls, and he knew, he fucking knew she miscarried before. After Santi, Ben knew the most of what she endured, outside of her therapist.

But Santi knew before she ever answered that she wouldn't press charges.

When they got home, Santi carried her to bed, and went to get her some water and food. He knew she didn't really want to eat, anxiety always surprising her appetite, but he knew she'd try for their baby, sweet thing that she was. She's already such a good mom.

He brought her pizza rolls, and climbed into bed with her, keeping the lights on. She didn't like the darkness when she was triggered.

Laci's small hand grabbed, and he turned to see her pale blue eyes pleading.

"What is it, baby?"

It was then she explained. Laci signed, and where she couldn't she typed. Ben didn't hurt her. Alice did. This, of course, made a lot more sense than Ben slapping Laci, but the other part of what she saw was far more shocking. Alice was abusing Ben. Santi had to admit, he was in a little disbelief at first. Ben was 6'2, strong as hell and well... a man. Alice was short and...

But slowly it started to make sense, all the pieces. Of course, she wouldn't start out hitting him, she'd have broken him down like they saw her do over and over again until he was at the point where he wouldn't fight back. It all became more and more clear... and more and more painful.

Their family was in shambles, and Santi felt embarrassed for threatening Ben when he was already going through so much... but fuck, how could he just let Alice do that to Laci? And how could he tell Laci he doesn't want to be at their wedding, the wedding of two people who were his best friends. This wasn't the Ben he knew, the Benny that would die for Laci...

Santi held her close and fed her pizza rolls until he finally saw her smile again.

When she fell asleep, he went to call Will.

Will

Ben was pouting on his couch, and Will was now wishing he'd let Lore join, but he didn't want to give her the added stress this far in to her pregnancy. She was sitting in the car right now, on the phone with her sister who she was trying her damndest to rebuild a relationship with. Rene would be the only aunt Chloe had biologically, and she wanted them to have a relationship, even if she was a pain. Lorelei had offered to come with Will, she wanted too, but Will said he needed to do this by himself. So, they compromised with Lorelei in the car.

Will and Ben are no strangers to physical altercations with each other. He wasn't sure why he was yelling at his brother who he just found out was being abused by his girlfriend and frankly, he didn't get it. At all. It wasn't because Ben was a man, it was because he didn't understand how Ben could stay with her. Hadn't he been through enough? Hadn't he seen how much their mom suffered with Paul, why would he put himself through that?

Couldn't he see how loved he was by their family? He lost Laci, and for what? Getting his ass beat?

Ben argued he didn't know what he was talking about, that Lac was unreliable and 'always was overdramatic', which made Will yell more. Laci was emotional, yes. She was also very sensitive, but Will refused to treat those as bad things. The implication of her being 'dramatic' about the things that happened didn't sit right when talking about a girl who until recently, her entire life had been defined by nonstop tragedy.

Will heard Lorelei yelling outside the front door.

Quickly, he went to open it to find Lorelei, face to face with Alice. He had never moved so fast in his entire life, placing himself in front of his pregnant girlfriends. They were a few feet above the ground on the wide front step, and after learning what Alice did to Laci, he wasn't letting Lorelei take a fall again.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Will seethed at the much smaller woman glaring up at him. He wanted to hit her, he wanted to hurt her so goddamn damn for what she's done to his brother and to the woman who is no different than a sister to him. For the anger and fighting that her actions have caused with everyone in their family. But Will didn't hit women. He didn't care if it wasn't equal treatment, it wasn't who he was. It wasn't who Ben was either, which she probably knew. Someone who wouldn't fight back.

Alice scoffed. "I live here, Jackass."

Will knew Ben wanted her to move in, he told Will, Pope and Fish 2 months back. They all said he was insane, moving his girlfriend in after 3 months but Ben said he didn't want to here it from Will and Santi. Will said his living situation with Lorelei and Santi with Laci was completely different than Ben and Alice, but Ben wasn't listening. What didn't know was she already lived there.

"Well, not anymore, get the fuck out." Behind his back, Will tried to nudge Lorelei to move down the stairs, but instead she moved towards the house. No doubt ready to protect Ben like she had before. It made him worry, but he also knew Lorelei did not have Laci's softness. She would throw hands right back, 8 month belly and all. He'd make sure it never got to that point, but goddamn did the idea of it make him love her even more, and he didn't think that was possible.

Benny

He couldn't sleep. The night was long anyway, Alice and him arguing back and forth. He wasn't his best, he yelled at her, she said he scared her... that broke his heart. He was becoming his dad. He watched Laci fall to the floor 5 months pregnant and did nothing about it. He let Alice tell Jana, the best mom he's known since his grandma, the woman who saved Franks life that was a bad mom and girlfriend.

His face hurt, but more importantly he felt disgusted in his skin. Nothing felt like his. His face felt numb from the ice pack Alice put on his lip. She was good like that. Everything ached. He didn't want to get undressed, he didn't like the way his body looked, but when he wanted to just go to bed, Alice accused him of not being attracted to her. She said withholding affection was an abuse tactic, so Ben made love to her, hoping to god he could prove to her he wasn't gay. He wasn't. He wasn't. None of that in the past was real.

So now, she was lying next to him, both were naked and all he wanted was to get redressed... but first, he needs a release. Pulling on his sweats again, Ben headed to the fridge.

Frankie

"And then, and THEN!" Frankie shouts, raising his hands in frustration as he washed the dishes. "Kyle said 'per my last email' can you fucking believe that! He said that, OUT LOUD, not in an email, not in a meeting, but at the fucking water cooler!"

When Jana, who was laying on the couch after eating too much and watching Blipi with Rosie, didn't respond, Frankie turned to look at her, scrubby in one hand, and plate in the other and his tan shirt sleeves rolled up. Rosie was on the carpet, half-watching and half playing with GI-Joe dolls, but if you tried to touch the TV she'd scream. Normally, Jana loved listening to his work gossip. She had no skin in the game, and since it didn't really cause Frankie any genuine stress she liked listening. Frankie could quit anytime.

The money from Lorea paid for the house, their cars, a good savings and a college fund for Rosie as well as 10 year CD's. Those were Jana's idea when it was clear how much Frankie was spending on coke. Frankie didn't have as much left as Will or Santi, but they were stable. Jana moving back in back in March and her recent promotion left them in a good spot. They'd be able to start a college fund for this new baby and provide a life that Frankie never had for their children. If work became too stressful, Frankie could leave, and he probably would when the baby was born, but right now it provided him stability and a sense of normalcy he had craved. He also found out that off coke and booze, he was pleasant as hell and was highly liked at work. He liked it.

When he turned, he knew immediately something was wrong. Jana was laying on the couch in her bonnet, having just gotten her hair done for Laci's wedding. Bohemian box braids, mostly her real hair since it was so long but had some fake blue locks. Jana's bridesmaid dress was blue, so she wanted to match.

"Hey mama." He said down the dishes, drying his hands as he walks over, "What's wrong? Nausea?" Alfredo usually made her stomach hurt, but she was craving it so Frankie was happy to cook for her. Between that and early pregnancy, it could be a lot of things.

She shook her head.

"Is it your braids?" He knew how much fresh braids could hurt.

She shook her head again.

Frankie frown, kneeling beside her. "Well, what's wrong then?" Whatever it was, he'd fix it. Can't have his precious girlfriend crying, especially not while pregnant with his baby.

Her lower lips quivered when she met his eyes and soon enough Jana was crying. Jana was not a cryer. Laci? Laci cries for everything, soft thing she was. Jana? The last time he saw Jana crying was when she was chewing him out for abandoning her and Rosie for a week.

"Oh, bebita, come here!" Frankie sat on the couch and pulled her into his arms, careful not to touch her tender head. "What's wrong?"

Jana sobbed into his shirt, making Rosie pause her play. Rosie stood up, rushing over to Jana and climbing up on her moms lap to give her a strong hug. "Mama don't be sad!" She put a little hand on Jana's face and kissed her cheek. "I love you! You're so pwetty!"

This made Jana chuckle, pulling her daughter tightly into her arms as she snuggled against her boyfriend. "I love you, and you're so pretty too." She kissed the crown of Rosie's puffy hair. "I love you so much, baby girl. Daddy and I ain't ever gonna let nothing happen to you, okay mami? Estás a salvo con nosotros. No dejes que nadie te haga daño, nena. Solo mereces amor suave."

Frankie understood what was hurting Jana so badly now. She was worried about Ben. Of course she was, Jana had known Benny since before he could legally drink, she loved him, often proclaiming he was her favorite. Since dating Alice, Ben pulled away from them all, not just Laci. It was subtle at first, but the damn if his presence wasn't missed. What Frankie failed to realize was how it affected Jana. Yes, Ben pulled away from Laci and everyone knew how badly it hurt her, but Jana missed Ben too. She just didn't have space to grieve.

Frankie had said that he'd fix whatever it was that was making her cry... but he didn't know how to fix this.

Lorelei

She rolled her eyes.

"Không, mẹ, chúng ta sẽ không kết hôn. Mẹ, con đã biết anh ấy một năm. Oh my god. MOM. Jesus- mom do you- moooooom. đéo. Oh, for fu- no, me, I wasn't swearing!."

Lorelei was on the couch, trying to explain to her mom that she was dating Will but they weren't getting married. Not right now anyway. Will was massaging her poor swollen feet, but smirking. He knew that Lorelei would get riled up and they'd end up fucking out that frustration here in a minute.

Lorelei sighed. "We don't know right now, but it's looking like we're going to work the harvest, then try to sell it after." She was talking about the farm. "Well no, I'm not gonna be a farmwife- well I could! Just because I like make-up- Okay, no, I don't want to deal with cows- oh my god."

Lorelei her phone on the swollen boobs and put it on speaker, looking to Will with an annoyed but over it expression, eyebrow raised. She was so exhausted from her mom, and wanted to make sure Will understood what it was like with her. Will was always empathetic, but now was a great chance for him to see the bullshit himself.

"I'm just saying, maybe if you put a little more effort into yourself you'd attract the right kind of man, instead of a farmer. Now, I know I know you said he isn't a farmer, military right? Does some motivational speaking? Well, I'm sorry, Yen but that's not a real job. Have you ever heard of keto? My friend Betty, remember her? Alex's friends mom? Well, she lost 40 pounds on it. I know your pregnant blah blah blah but I think if you start on the baby weight now, you can get a jump start. I saw your most recent picture on facebook honey. You know I never gained more than 15 pounds with you 3. You were my heaviest pregnancy. If you aren't careful, em bé is going to be-"

Will snatched the phone out off of Lorelei, taking it off speaker and away from Lorelei who was just sitting there listening to her mom rail on her very normal amount of weight gain.

"Hi, Mrs. Tran? This is William Miller, how are you? Yes, I'm so glad we could finally talk." He began to walk away, motioning for Lore to rest. He laughs. "Oh yes, that's so true!... We'd love for you to come visit-" Lorelei's eyes widened in panic, but Will understood her without even seeing her reaction. "But I think I'd love to visit where Lore grew up, so maybe we can plan a trip to Philly. Yeah? Wonderful, let's do that some time. Oh no, she didn't tell me about that, but I'd love to hear about how the book club meeting, I'm all ears... What, really?... Well that was rude... Yes, Pride and Prejudice is a classic... Debbie wouldn't know a good book if it hit her in the face..."

Lorelei heard her mom laugh over the phone, and Will winked at her. She rested.

Jana

"Listen, no to be gross." Lorelei started, watching Laci and Santi say bye. It was sickly sweet, but Lorelei was clearly over it wanting to get a move on. They had finished saying goodbye to Will and Frankie and Rose5 minutes ago, and they had to get checked in. Jana had long suspected Ben may not be in the wedding and he certainly wasn't doing any man of honor stuff with Laci so Jana stepped up, booking her, Laci and Ben a night away at a spa. Laci's wedding was going to be incredibly small, nonchalant. A cute little backyard wedding, something to not overwhelm her, but Jana thought she deserved nice things. When it was clear Ben wasn't coming, they had invited Lorelei. Luckily, Jana was able to switch the package to a prenatal one since all three were pregnant. It was well deserved on their parts, Jana thought, they all had been through a lot.

"Nothing is more gross than this." Jana replied but with no real edge. She was happy for not only Laci, but Santi too. As long as she'd known him, Santi had never been this happy, and after his mom and sister died within a few years... well, it was nice to see him at peace. Laci was good for him.

Lorelei leaned in, watching the mushy couple hug each other. "You ever wonder what their sex life is like?"

Jana laughed at that. "I know way more than I ever needed to." To be fair, Laci also knew Jana's sex life which involved whips and bondage. "You know she calls him daddy. It's his name on her phone."

Audibly gagging, Lorelei laughs. "That it does not surprise me that she's into that one bit, but I just don't see Santi as a daddy dom type."

"Oh it's not really a dom/sub situation. The actual sex is quite vanilla as you might imagine with her history. She just likes being taken care of, and Santi likes taking care of her.." She turned to Lorelei. "You don't call Will daddy?"

Lorelei laughed brightly at that. Goddamn she was pretty, a fucking sight to see. Lorelei was the kind of girl Jana would have perused when broken up with Frank if she hadn't remained so helplessly in love with the precious man. "I mostly call him annoying! Do you call Frankie daddy?"

"No," Jana giggled. "I mostly say sir in those scenario's. It's like I say." Jana pats her stomach, not yet showing. "I'm submissive and breedable."

"Are you?"

"Breedable? Obviously, neither thing 1 or thing 2 were planned, but those bad boy keep breaking through. And by bad boys I mean Frankie's jizz."

Grimacing, Lore continued to laugh while Santi and Laci talked to each other like talking to a baby. "Yeah, I got that! I meant the submissive part. You seem like a very... in control woman."

"Oh! Oh yeah, no, I am. Except in bed." Jana liked knowing her family was safe and in her hands. The burden of the day to day planning was in her hands, and it wasn't something she minded. It wasn't like she did everything physically; Frankie was a supportive partner and loving father, she was going to marry the fuck out of him some day. When they were separated, Jana could hand Rosie off to Frankie for a week or more and trust that her baby was safe, healthy, and on her normal routine (unless Santi was over). In fact, this night away all she had to tell Frankie was that Rosie's favorite stuffie was in the wash. Everything else, he was well prepared.

No, Francisco was capable, and if Jana was ever sick or needed him to take over more, he would, always. He cooked wonderful means for her to come home to and packed her lunch. In the end, it came down to want. She wanted to do this for her family, she wanted to take the stress of Frankie's pretty little head. She didn't want him to worry about Rosie's and his appointments, because and would tell him where to go and when. It was something Jana loved doing for her lover. And in return, Frankie would take over in bed, fucking her senseless with orgasm after orgasm and make her loose every single thought in her head that wasn't his mouth or cock or massive fucking hands.

Yeah, Jana liked control, and right now with Ben she felt out of fucking control and she hated it. She needed this weekend away.

"Alright, that's enough." Jana went over to the sappy pair. Normally, if neither were pregnant, Jana could just pick Laci up, but instead she settled for pulling her away. Laci pouted and playfully reached her arms out to Santi.

Joking, Santi glared at Jana as she dragged his fiancé out. "Awwww Jan Jan is so mean!"

With a "Shut the fuck up, Santito" they were out the door, all their luggage having been packed into the car by Will already.

As soon as they were out, Laci beamed and chatted excitedly about their 'getaway' on the other side of their town and hopped into her spot as passenger princess. Out of ear shot, Jana leaned into Lorelei before opening her car door. "Those two are just emo because this is the first time they've slept away from each other since Santi murdered her ex boyfriend."

She got in, leaving Lorelei standing outside the car when she closed her door. From through the windows, Jana laughs as she hears Lorelei shout "Aw, now, what the fuck!"

Laci

Laci sat nervously on the park bench waiting for Ben. Santi stood nearby, out of earshot but closely watching. Laci had reminded him that Ben didn't actually hurt her, so he didn't need to be worried and Santi said that Ben has made her cry repeatedly over the last new months, and he was going to be there to swoop in and rescue his princess. His words, words which she loved. Things were much better between them, and Laci was relieved. After the fighting but before she got hit, Laci was certain Santi would postpone the wedding and she thought maybe that would be a good idea too. She adored him, and she'd never let go as long as he loved her too, but maybe they needed to wait.

The morning after it all happened, Laci was worried Santi would treat her like he did when she first moved in. She loved that time in her life, she was allowed all the space and love and closeness and whatever she needed to get better, but that was the thing. She was better. The slap was extremely triggering and thinking she was miscarrying again was horrific but after being in therapy for over a year, she was equipped to handle it, with the reassurance and care Santi would always provide, she just didn't want to be treated like one of his porcelain dolls. She was stronger now.

But Santi knew her. He brought her breakfast, asked her how she felt, and they watched Friends reruns during the morning, cuddled up in their bed. It wasn't until after lunch Santi talked to her.

She explained everything, how Alice bullied her in that mean-girl way of subtle digs and jabs. She finally told him why she had been crying at the ball, something she previously refused to talk about knowing it would anger Santi. Laci had wanted to bad to fix things with Alice. She told him how she said that Santi was bored with her because they didn't have adventurous sex, how she bet he used to have threesomes with the guys and Laci couldn't give him any of that. Santi insisted he didn't want to have wild sex, as he had told her before. No part of him wanted to hurt her, especially during sex. Santi was explicitly clear he had never had a threesome with any of the guys, especially not with Jana like Alice implied, and although he had a threesome with two girls in the past, he had no desire for that with her. She fulfilled all his desires.

They talked about the baptism. Laci expressed that she had been wanting to start attending mass sometimes, and Santi agreed that he would join her, which made Laci smile.

"What about Leto?" She asked, voice small.

"Hm?"

"For his name"

Santi thought on it for a moment, but as he sounded it out, he started smiling.

"Leto Antonio... baby, I love it..."

Laci snuggled up to him. "Leto Antonio Garcia."

"Leto Antonio Garcia-Dumas"

In the evening, Ben texted her 'can we meet up?'

He sat on the bench, far on the other side away from her. Ben was looking over his shoulder in unrest, like he was on the look out. He spotted Santi from afar, and Santi gave him a little wave from where he stood. Ben waved back.

"I won't ask why you stay." Laci spoke, her high pitched voice already breaking. "I don't know why I always did either, really."

Ben sighed. "I love her, Lace."

Her lip quivered. "She doesn't deserve you. I know you don't think that now, you probably think you deserve what she does and what she says because I know you, I know how little you see yourself... but I love you so much, Benny! I love you and I think you are so amazing and you deserve someone who loves you as you are."

Ben turned away, looking back to the geese flying overhead. "You're, okay? Baby's okay?"

Laci sighed. She knew she wouldn't be able to simple love him out of abuse. It didn't work like that. "Yeah, everything was okay."

He nodded. "I'm really sorry, Lace. That I didn't try to stop her, that I didn't stand up for you-"

"Please don't be sorry, I know what it's like-"

"But that's just it!" He raised his voice, then out of the corner of his eye saw Santi stand from leaning against the tree. "Sorry. Sorry. It's just... You of all fucking people. I'd be ashamed if she did that to Lorelei or Jana, hell I owe her an apology for how Alice spoke to her... but you? I can't get the sight of you on the floor with on your mouth out of my head."

They talked about it a little longer, but there wasn't much to say. There wasn't much to do.

"Benny..." Laci fidgeted with her blue dress. "Listen Jana took over the maid of honor stuff already...."

"I figured. I assume Lorelei is replacing me?"

"No!" Laci practically jumped out of the bench. "I mean, no, no I love her so much and she's family but, that's not what I'm saying... I mean, Benny I don't want to get you in trouble or hurt or anything but... I need you to know I still want you to be my bridesman... but again, don't put yourself at risk for me, I just want you to know I, we, we both want you there. We both love you so much and if-" Her voice cracked, tears pooling in her eyes. "I know Will can be a lot sometimes so if you need somewhere safe to be, no prying questions or fighting or judgement, I swear to you our home is open for you as it always has been. I want you as much a part of our and Leto's lives as possible."

Ben's eyes were tearing up too, not letting them spill. "I'll make it work, okay? I'm gonna stand with you guys."

Laci's smile appeared suddenly. "REALY?! Are you sure? We could always switch you and Will if it's better for you to be on Santi's side."

Ben almost said no, but then he realized no matter what, Alice was going to lose her shit that he was back in. Maybe it would help. "Yeah, okay..."

She squealed, turning when Santi approached them. "Is that okay, baby? If Will stands with me and Ben with you."

Ben stood and extended a hand to his brother, wanting to shake on peace but Santi pulled him in for a hug. "We're gonna be here for, Ben. Whatever you need. You've always been there for us so we're gonna take care of you now."

Alice

He was hiding something.

He was always fucking hiding something. How was she supposed to trust what he said, what he wasn't gay when he's constantly lying. Alice knows he slept with that little ditz, even though everyone denied it. God, they were all blind, or maybe she slept with them all too. Just look at how she dresses, all those short skirts and lowcut dresses and crop tops, and constantly hanging off one of them, pretending like she can't go anywhere herself. She was so desperate for attention; that's probably how she got sex trafficked, supossedly.

She acts like it was this horrible thing, she sure loved to milk it but if it was that bad, why was she dating Santi? He looked like the men who abused her, spoke their language. She should hate him and Frankie, honestly. If she was really abused, she wouldn't have jumped into bed with Santi so fast.

"Where were you?" Alice asked when Ben walked in, the sun setting. He looked tired, avoiding her eyes and for a moment Alice felt bad. But then he took too long to answer.

"Just. Out. Walking."

He was lying. Alice stood up and the way Ben moved so quickly made her feel strong, like she had a hold on him. Ben was so much taller, stronger than her, and she still had control over him. "Tell me the truth."

He sighed, and right away Alice knew he was with that cunt, probably shoving his hands up her itty bitty skirt while sucking Santi's dick.

"You're with Laci, aren't you."

She watched Ben tense, avoiding her eyes. "Can we do this later? I gotta shower before dinner."

They were supossed to go to his grandpa's house for dinner. Gideon was nice enough, but Ben ruined her mood, and she wanted to punish him for seeing Laci.

"I don't think we're gonna go. I'm not feeling well."

Ben turned at that, looking at her in confusion. "What? No, babe it's an hour from now, we can't cancel again. I havn't seen him in months!"

Alice stepped back. "Don't raise your voice at me! I said I don't feel good, why would you want me to go somewhere when I feel sick? Are you trying to punish me? You're being manipulative."

He blinked at that, obviously confused by the turn around. "I- I'm sorry? Well, can I go at least?"

Alice forced the tears to come to her eyes. "You'd leave me alone I'm sick?"

There was a pause as Ben stammered over his words before sighing. "No, babe. I'll call him and cancel."

Alice went to lie down, asking Ben for some tea.

Cameron

"Goddamn it."

Springsteen songs didn't usually remind Cam of him, but this goddamn song about Bruce Springsteen songs did. Cam didn't listen to country if he could avoid it, but his phone died and the only station the tractor was country.

"When I think about you I think about 17 I think about my old Jeep I think about the stars in the sky Funny how a melody sounds like a memory Like a soundtrack to a July Saturday night Springsteen"

Yeah, actually, Cam did think about Ben, being 17, his jeep, staring at the stars in the sky as they lay on the roof of the barn... god fucking damn it.

Cam came home that night, he was exhausted from his 14 hour day but it was worth it. August to December he worked long hours and hard days on the field, then January to June had complete freedom to travel in and live out of his van, a hippie sort of lifestyle.

No drug tests.

It was technically his off season still but one of his connections had an old farmer who needed a bit of help spraying season. Cam was trying to put money away incase his van broke down. It was an old thing from the 60's, Cam was under no pretense that it was lasting forever.

Cam was bordered up in an old hunting lodge, and after cracking open a cold one he sat at the deck and lit a blunt, scratching his beard after taking a long drag. God that was nice.

The phone call irritating him, and he was going to ignore it just wanting his peace time but the area code stood out to him. Florida, middle Florida to be exact. Did Ben get a new number? He swiped right.

"Hello?"

"Hey, this Cameron MacDonald?"

"Um... yeah? Listen, if you're calling about my car's extended warranty, I drive a van from '69, it's way past-"

"No, Cam this is Will Miller."

Goddammit Bruce Springsteen, let this man go. "Hey Will... What's going on?”

If Will is calling, something gotta be wrong. Will... was not fond of him. Over the years, Ben and Cam went in and out of each other's lives for one reason or another, but never very long and understandably so Will was not happy about picking up the pieces. Cameron got it, he did. But Cameron also had to pick up every broken piece himself. Life and a rambling man left him with many friends but no one to call for a breakup.

"I uh, I got your phone number off Ben's phone, he don't know I'm calling you."

"Well, I'd think not, considering he'd pretty girlfriend." Cam chuckled good naturedly. He still had Ben on Facebook and saw his pictures on occasion when they popped up on his feed... or when he stalked Ben's page after a few bud lights too many. "Where you at right now? I hear music."

"You remember Pope? Or, I guess Santiago, who Ben and I served with? He's getting married."

"Oh shit, no way that's great!" He was genuine. Cam never met Santi, only Frankie and his lady a few times over the years Santi was always off somewhere. But Ben loved him dearly, and from Facebook stalking it looked like he was really close with the man's girlfriend- well, wife now. A win for Ben's family was a win for Ben, and that was a win for Cam. "Whadderya doing talking to me when you should be celebrating your friends and dancing with your girlfriend. Congratulations of her and the baby, by the way."

"Thanks. I called you now because I've had a few drinks and I had an idea, and it might be a bad one. Figured I'd better do it now because I chicken out."

A bad start. Was Will going to finally cuss Cam out for ditching Ben all those years ago?

"Oh. Uuuuuuh, okay?"

He heard Will sigh loudly over the phone, Stevie Nicks and Don Henly in the background. It was never good when he sighed like that.

"Ben's in trouble, and I need your help."

It didn't matter. His plans for the next harvest season, how far away he was. Cameron didn't even know what Will's plan was at all if there even was one. All Cam knew was that Ben needed help.

"What do you need, Miller."

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

BENNY BOO WE'RE COMING TO SAVE YOU

Next chapter is the finale for FTLT!!!!! Laci and Santi get hitched <3 Happy day.

And we have a name for our little LaL baby!!!

Then, after the finale and after i finish up a few series, it onto my Ben series, No Surrender (after the bruce springsteen song bc duuuhhh)

@pimosworld @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @milkymoon2483 @poeedameronn @itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @babymills16 @rayslittlekitten @kirsteng42

#william miller #for the longest time #Santiago garcia #francisco morales #benjamin miller #lacina dumas #jana fernandez #lorelei giang #lal universe

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he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle · 2 months

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Get to Know Me Tag

Tagged by the feisty @lurkingshan, thanks Shan!

Do you make your bed?

Kinda. After my divorce, I bought lovely new bedding and happily made my bed every morning for like a year. Then I got lazy. I sorta half-ass it, where I fluff my pillows and pull up sheets and straighten the blankets and bed spread, but it's not photo-worthy or anything.

What’s your favorite number?

3. I like triads and trinities. In fact, I named my first dog Trinity. And I had three children!

What is your job?

I’m an author. I have 4 non-fiction books published under my given name and 15 fiction books published under a pseudonym. Many of my books were best sellers. Despite this fact, it is not enough to pay the bills. So I supplement my income with speaking engagements, teaching classes, and running a handful of websites, one of which is a wholesale distribution platform for artisanal imported foods. Basically, I'm self-employed and keep myself busy doing anything that interests me.

If you could go back to school, would you?

No. While I love learning and don't mind taking the occasional class to be introduced to a cool skill (like making stained glass!), I absolutely refuse to do any more higher education than I already have. I was sorta super nerdy at school because of an eidetic memory, so I collected degrees in Biblical Studies, Philosophy, Greek, Linguistics, and Russian Literature before I finally realized I didn't want to be a perpetual student.

Can you parallel park?

Nope. I learned how to do it to get my Driver's License over 30 years ago and have literally never had to use the skill since.

A job you had that would surprise people?

Hmmm. My job-jobs were all pre-children so people are surprised when they find out I ever had any since my last one was decades ago. But I didn't just have a few, I had a LOT of jobs because I finished school early and had to pay for my entire university education myself because of poor parents, and I think that's the most surprising thing. I was a waitress (14-16), a shop clerk (16-18), an acquisitions librarian's assistant (18-19), a bank teller (20), a digital librarian for a major software development company (20-21), a language tutor (18-21), an adjunct professor (22-24), a houseparent in a boy's home (24), and a cog in the county tax assessor's office (24-26). I also volunteered as a translator for Doctor's Without Borders and as a suicide prevention counselor for LGBTQ youth. At 26, I had my first child and became self-employed.

Do you think aliens are real?

Possibly, but I struggle to believe humans have ever interacted with any.

Can you drive a manual car?

Yes!

What’s your guilty pleasure?

Cop shows. I agree ACAB, but I love love LOVE the testosterone-fueled fantasy world of shows like Hawaii Five 0.

Tattoos?

None. I didn't want any at first because all the tattoos I'd seen on old people didn't age well thanks to saggy skin, wrinkles, etc. Now I kinda wish I'd had at least one.

Favorite color?

Dark azure.

Favorite type of music?

I LOVE IT ALL. If you live long enough, you discover awesome music in every genre. Like, I thought I hated heavy metal, but then I discovered the album Pale Communion by Opeth a decade ago and loved literally every single song!

Do you like puzzles?

Yes, but I don't make the time to do them.

Any phobias?

Heights. Absolutely terrifying.

Favorite childhood sport?

Cross country! I ran on my varsity team in HS and continued it through college.

Do you talk to yourself?

No. I am so quiet. On the weeks I don't have custody of my kids, I have sometimes had weeks where I work exclusively from home and don't interact with another human person beyond text messages and emails. When I finally speak out loud for the first time in days, the sound of my voice is jarring and unfamiliar.

What movies do you adore?

About Time. The Royal Tenenbaums. Shawshank Redemption.

Coffee or tea?

Coffee! I used to be more of a snob about it, but I recently fell in love with Korean instant coffees and THEY ARE SO GOOD. HOLY SHIZNITS.

First thing you wanted to be growing up?

A teacher in a foreign country.

I haven't been keeping track of who tagged who, so I'd like to tag @absolutebl @juneviews @twig-tea @sorry-bonebag @stefanyd @waitmyturtles @disaster-j @cooloddball @spicyvampire and @norahastuff If you'd like to play and I didn't tag you, please do!! Be sure to tag me so I can read your post.

#tag game

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ohwhataniight · 2 months

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The Good that won't Come Out - a trans!Sherlock fic - Part 1

So I started this WIP and have absolutely no patience about sharing it after it is completed. Please forgive my English, it is not my first language. For @gaylilsherlock who suggested the wound dressing trope. To be continued.

___________________________

"Girls, behave. Please."

I didn't think much of the way I'd just referred to a sulking Sherlock and an exasperated Lestrade, both of whom were leaning dangerously over the table in the Scotland Yard office, looking ready to punch each other in the face any minute now. Sherlock was being his usual self, showing off deductions that were only possible for me to follow, given that I live with him and, throughout the past couple of years, have become able to decode his tumultuous trains of thought. I assumed that the patience of my friend and colleague had run out and that he needed some quiet time in order to think this baffling case through, given that he raised the lapels of his coat and announced that he was heading home.

Anyway, I have a date tonight, so I don't really mind letting the case of the poisoned fashion designer go. I am more than fine with the turn of events, actually. I shoot Greg an apologetic look when Sherlock isn't looking and start buttoning my own jacket. I turn to Sherlock. “I won't be back till late. Go home, get some Thai, don't do anything reckless without me.”

He doesn't grace me with an answer to that, of course. “Give Vicky my warmest regards,” he says sarcastically instead, without really meeting my gaze. I decide to ignore his moods – I know better than provoking him when he's way too deep in a case he can't solve yet. I watch him turn around and leave the room with the tail of his impossibly long coat swishing dramatically behind him. I sigh, and follow suit to head to my date, for which I am already late.

It would have been fine if it only happened once, but apparently this is how John speaks, and for some reason it took my by surprise. Again. I should have seen this coming - this is how he really sees me, isn’t it? At least subconsciously - even subconsciously is bad enough. Why doesn’t he ever observe? I blame myself for letting my guard down. Of course, Captain John Watson, the epitome of traditional British masculinity and unchecked heterosexism would resort to such terms of endearment. And now here I am, recalling the words of my dearest brother: “You have let yourself be conquered by sentiment once again, Sherlock. You are entrusting a well-intentioned but vastly ignorant man with secrets you have been hiding ever so industriously throughout your life. I am observing you in sheer terror as you succumb to your miscalculations. How are you planning to proceed after John Watson discovers that you have so... diligently concealed the truth from him, after he reacts?”

Concealed. Truth. I snort. John knows the truth. He knows what he needs to know, he knows as much as he can stomach.

“He’ll have to know, at some point, being your doctor and all.”

“Oh shut up,” I hiss at mind palace-Mycroft, brushing away his rigid figure from my head with a wave of my hand. “John cannot know. He will never see me the same way again if he finds out.”

The night is chilly, my breath materializes before me in the form of smoke: dense, and woefully lacking of tar. I walk into the first corner shop and buy a pack, only to notice that my hands are shaking as I try to light the first cigarette, standing on the side of the pavement, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Pathetic. Look at you. Mycroft is right.

No. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing, and hiding, and pretending it’s all fine.

He accepts and admires the man he thinks you are. Just one misstep and you blow up an entire life you’ve built for yourself, a life you’ve fought so hard for. John learns, and everything goes

fucking

boom.

I have been letting someone in so dangerously close to the core of my being, and yet I still have to live life hanging from the threads of how he sees me, how he reads me, like a pitifully open book yet still stumbling between the lines, faltering when I become too visible, immuring me behind performances and words.

John Watson is failing you.

And how could he not?

(freak)

I shake my head, exasperated. I take in a deep drag of smoke and watch it crystallize in slow motion. The lights of the city that normally surround me with clarity now become blurry and melt around me, pool on my feet like fireflies in a swamp. Smoking doesn’t help. Nothing is helping. My ribs are constricting around what feels like a hole in my chest, pulling me down with the familiar weight that used to press around me like Symplegades before.

What if John Watson had met me before? Maybe then he could have returned my feelings. Maybe he could have loved me if I weren’t who I am.

After all, John Watson is not, will never be gay. And I will never be what he likes.

These thoughts make breathing a strenuous activity. I wish I could ever only inhale nicotine. Not oxygen, especially when it becomes so sparse, not his hot, sweet breath that confiscates mine every time he turns his head as he’s leaning over me to stare at the computer screen, not the odd whiff of salty sweat, not his light musk of earth that is damp that is sturdy -

And then, suddenly, bliss: a distraction. A man in a suede jacket who is up to no good, judging from the long fingernail on his left pinky and the obviously borrowed briefcase that contains information of life and death on his ex wife. I don’t need to intervene, I’m not Clark freaking Kent (see, John? I have some mundane references) but I need something to keep my mind and body occupied other than these dreaded musings on truth and identity and John Watson’s scent, ever present in my nostrils. So I follow him. And he notices. And he quickens his step. And I chase him. In an alley. Good, this is good. Keep that adrenaline pumping. He climbs over some railings. I follow suit. My heart is racing with the rapture of something remotely interesting, finally. My physical deftness has never betrayed me before, until it does. I feel the sharp stab of metal on my ribcage as the railing scratches my side, ripping my shirt underneath my coat, and I feel the warmth of blood spiling from a long scratch on my skin that climbs up to my chest like a vine of poison ivy.

(well, this is unfortunate)

#sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fanfiction #fanfiction #johnlock fic #sherlock #sickfic #Sherlock whump #trans Sherlock #translock #trans!sherlock #trans man Sherlock Holmes #coming out fic #queer #trans #tw: misgendering #(sort of)

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heyitssashag · 28 days

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1:18:11

Here I am about a minute after the 10k race I did yesterday morning. Hot, tired, wiped out, but beaming. 😁 I finished the race 4 minutes faster than last year. May not seem like a lot but given what my body has gone through this past year, it was a surprise. I wish I could go back to doing sub 1-hour 10k’s but I have to accept that this is as quick as I can go with the body I have, now.

I felt pretty good throughout most of it. My neck and upper back behaved. Only issue was my left hip was in agony to the point I was limping pretty hard by the last 300 (or so) metres. I could hardly walk. Today it’s just sore so it’s likely a muscular/overuse injury. Hopefully, over the next few days, it’ll be back to normal.

It was a 90’s themed race so I put on my “Take me Back to the 90’s” shirt and an ugly tutu that’s not really 90’s related at all. lol.

I’m so happy I did it. There were over 8500 participants which was the most this race has ever had. It was great …except for the start. There were only 3 waves which were about 20 minutes apart. I was in the middle and it was the busiest. I had to nearly walk a 1/2 km from the race start line to get into the corral. Wall-to-wall people then started forming behind me. I was getting a little nervous as people were trying to get through and pushing. I didn’t want someone to accidentally bang into me, my back or my neck. Anyway, it was otherwise fun. I love the energy of being in big races.

I have another race (that’s much smaller) scheduled for the end of next month. It’s another 10k. That’s as far as I can go for now. If I keep training and remain stable with my health, I may be able to do a fall half marathon without worrying about making cut-off times.

I saw my professional running photos that were taken. They aren’t great. lol. Some were okay - some were pretty dorky. A lot of them showed how bad my neck kyphosis is.

The kid and I stayed with my Aunt and Uncle for the last few days and we just got back early this afternoon. I had to stop at the Cancer Agency to pick up cycle 6 of my chemotherapy which I start this week. I also got the progress notes of all my doctors (at the Cancer Agency) for the past 5 months. My GP’s office said my Doctor wanted to talk to me concerning my hospital notes. There were no red flags so I think it’s to do with the Pain & Symptom clinic wanting him to follow up with me instead of them.

This week the kid and I will be doing our first volunteer training session at the aquarium. I also have a meeting with the kid’s English teacher. I have an appointment with the dermatologist, too. Boring stuff. I hope to also get through my to-do list this week. I’ve been so tired and busy I haven’t read any Tumblr blogs for a while. I feel so out of the loop. 😂 I’ll be catching up this week.

But, right now, it’s book and tea time.

#metastatic breast cancer #running #10k race #life update #blogging on my blog

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dragonsarecool · 4 months

Text

Febwhump Day 12 - Semi-Conscious

A/N: Marty's head injury from his arrival in 1885 turns for the worse. An alternate opening to Part III.

Seamus was well and truly at a loss.

The strange man who had (seemingly) come out of nowhere and collapsed onto his fence had been in his home for two days, and apart from a brief attempt to stand immediately after the accident, was still yet to regain consciousness.

If anything, he seemed to be growing worse, as Maggie confirmed the lad was now running a decent fever. She'd replaced the cool cloth on his forehead multiple times over the last few hours, yet he continued to remain oblivious to the outside world as his skin grew warmer by the hour. They'd managed to get some fluids and a tiny bit of soup into him, but he otherwise remained stubbornly unconscious. Even an introduction to Maggie's most powerful bath salts wasn't enough to rouse him, and given Seamus knew firsthand how sore one's sinuses were after exposure to them, he realised this man's condition was serious and was showing no signs of improvement.

It hadn't surprised either of the McFlys that the man was muttering various pieces of nonsense in his sleep. Both had seen their fair share of raging fevers and the delirious state of mind that came with it. What had surprised them was the young man's persistence usage of a certain name, and how he'd been screaming it in utter anguish.

Seamus had had to stop him from falling out of the bed during one of his hallucinations. The boy kept raving about a bolt of lightning, pleading for a 'Doc Brown' to avoid it. He yelled and swore with an energy that almost seemed unnatural.

Seamus had never seen a man in such distress, and quickly realised he'd never forget it.

How the man had screamed himself hoarse as he sobbed and begged for his imaginary 'Doc' not to do it.

How bloodshot and swollen his eyes had been on the rare occasions when they were open.

How young the man truly seemed as he cried for his mother, apologising for a deed that was never revealed.

They'd finally managed to sit down for a meal in the early hours of the third morning, though the exhaustion plaguing both of them meant they ate slowly and in relative silence. It hadn't much of a discussion for both Seamus and Maggie to agree that the doctor was desperately needed.

However, Seamus decided it was time to share a thought he'd been experiencing since the man began his delirious shouting. "I've been wonderin', Maggie," He spoke between mouthfuls, "if he's talkin' about the blacksmith?"

Maggie snorted. "What? Emmett Brown? He can't possibly know him, Seamus!" She snapped, bouncing baby William on her lap as she took another mouthful of soup. "Look at his clothes! He's clearly not from around here. Maybe he's got a family member called Brown or something."

"Aye, I know. But I just…" Seamus was at a brief loss for words. "…I just gotta feeling that calling 'im is the right thing to do."

Maggie sighed deeply, realising she was about to indulge her husband yet again in one of his 'feelings'. Had she been in a more ideal state of mind, she probably would've said no. "Alright, Seamus, alright. When you've finished eatin', go see the doctor, and get 'im to fetch Emmett in the mornin'."

"Cheers, love." Seamus took a deep swig of his water. Hope this is a good feeling…

*****

The last person Doc had expected to see on his doorstop at seven AM was the town's doctor, carrying his briefcase and looking anxious. He brushed off his workshop gear, still covered in dust and dirt from the previous day's work. "Not open yet I'm afraid! Is there a problem, sir?"

The doctor adjusted his glasses and sighed. "Yes, sir. It's a bit of an unusual one, Mister Brown. I'm here on behalf of the McFlys."

Doc's stomach dropped. I haven't talked to them for a while! "Y-Yes? What-"

"Seamus left a note on my office window at some unholy hour this morning. They've been tending to a very unwell young man at their farm for a few days, and they seem to think he's related to you somehow," The doctor stated. "I haven't examined him yet as I've only just seen it, but I'm told he's been unconscious for sometime, and keeps saying your name."

It can't be him.

"Surely he means another Emmett?" Doc spoke nervously.

It can't be.

"No, no. Seamus was insistent that it was you."

It can't be! How the hell did he end up at the McFly farm of all places?!

"H-How old did you say this man is?" Doc realised he was stuttering, and prayed the doctor hadn't noticed his anxiousness. Please don't be him please don't be him-

"Not entirely sure, but they described him as fairly young-looking. Early twenties at most," The doctor fiddled with his tie, unfazed by Doc's jumpy mannerism. "Apparently he was sportin' the weirdest outfit they'd ever seen. Some sort of…pink jumpsuit…thing. They had to change him out of it as he was sweatin' so badly."

Dammit! Doc had to lean against the doorframe to stop his legs from giving out. Damn that kid…Goes directly against my orders and then nearly kills himself on his ancestor's farm. "And he's still at the farm?"

"Sure is. Seamus's got nothing to carry him in and he's in no state to ride into town," The doctor stood back, extending his arm outwards. "Can I assume you're intending to accompany me?"

Doc had already adorned his coat and hat before the doctor could finish speaking. He pushed past the physician, a steely gaze of determination etched into his face as he mounted the nearest horse. Marty McFly, don't you dare die on me…

*****

The ride to the McFly farm was forty-five minutes of pure hell for Doc.

Not that he minded riding horses; if anything, he thoroughly enjoyed having the wind rustling through his hair while witnessing one of the most efficient animals on the planet in action. What he would've appreciated was having some sort of background noise to distract him from his thoughts.

I don't know if it's a good thing or not that the doctor hasn't examined him yet. If he was seriously injured I doubt they would've come for me so soon. But anything could've happened to him! Scarlet fever, dysentery, influenza, infection, head trauma-

He was grateful for the interruption as the doctor called ahead to the McFlys, with Seamus waving frantically at the front of the house. It surprised Doc how exhausted the farmer looked, and it did nothing to ease his worries.

Doc barely acknowledged either of the McFlys as they were welcomed inside and led towards the 'mystery' young man. He had to restrain himself from running straight to Marty's side, instead observing with the McFly ancestors from the corner of the bedroom as the doctor began his examination.

He felt nauseous just looking at Marty.

Doc had never seen a person so unwell. The fact it was his best friend made it all the worse.

Marty's ghostly-white skin was slick with sweat, visible even in the candlelight. His hair was wet and matted in places, sticking out at uneven angles that would rival the hairstyles of the punks in 1985. As flushed as his cheeks were, Doc could see how much weight had fallen off them in the few days Marty had been here. Kid, what have you done to yourself?!

It only took a few minutes of examination for the doctor to produce a diagnosis. "He's definitely got a serious concussion. I'd call it a traumatic head wound, to be honest, especially given what Seamus told me about the fall. Plus this wound on his scalp has a nasty infection in it."

That's it? The words almost fell from Doc's mouth in disbelief. A concussion and infection? He looks like he's five minutes from death!

"I cleaned it as best I could, but…" Maggie trailed off, clearly feeling guilt in being unable to improve Marty's condition.

"You did the best you could, ma'am," The doctor reassured her. "If neither of you folks had found him, he'd likely be dead. In saying that though, if he doesn't start regaining consciousness this morning I'd like to move him into town for more intensive care."

He might as well be in this time period. Doc's thoughts quickly soured as the gravity of the situation set in. "How did come across you folks anyway?"

He never got the answer, for the room was suddenly filled with a glorious sound.

"…Doc?"

The voice was so hoarse that if the others hadn't heard it as well, Doc would've been convinced it was a hallucination. He dashed over to Marty, clasping the young man's clammy hand in his own as he felt his heart pounding in his throat. Damn…I gotta come up with a name for him!…Who's that Western guy Marty keeps referencing? Eastwood? "…Clint? Are you with us, son?"

"Is he family of yours?" Seamus asked tiredly. "Seems pretty fond of ya."

It took Doc a moment to conjure an answer. He gave a brief nod before gently stroking his fingers through Marty's hair. "We're so close that he might as well be my son." Good thing Marty's so out of it…I don't think I could admit it to his face.

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Seamus nodded and wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders. "We'll leave ya be for a while, Mister Brown. You don't mind if we steal some rest for ourselves?"

"Oh goodness, yes! Please, please go and sleep," Doc said hurriedly. "You've done so much for him already."

"I'll go set myself up to clean that wound, Mister Brown, but you're more than welcome to stay with him," The doctor grabbed his briefcase and headed for the kitchen. "Shan't be long."

No sooner than the door closed did Marty stir again. "Dad?…" He whispered weakly. His head lolled to the side as his eyes fluttered open, staring at Doc with a glaze that told him he still wasn't fully lucid. "Dad?"

At least you're awake. That's good enough for now. Doc smiled and patted the young man's hair comfortingly, checking that the others had indeed left the room before answering. "No, Marty. Not quite, but close enough."

#bttf #back to the future #fanfiction #whump #febwhump #febwhump2024

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itspdameronthings · 11 months

Text

Soulmate(Benny Miller)

Summary: Here is part 2 in my soulmate series. All i can say Benny recalls a beautiful memory.There is a surprise !

On a given day Benny usually is home relaxing from a hard day. Up in his shared room with his beautiful soulmate, his Dixie. Person who gets him. Knows what others don't see in public. His sweet personality shines through. Smile that lights up a room. Others see the serious side. Goal oriented to complete a task. He has scars from his time in the Army. Things he wants to forget. Thank God for his Dixie. She knows what to do. Hold him close. Never let him go. His rock. Today, he is in a reading mood. Pulls out an old journal. Her journal he reads from time to time. Does this to remember how they got to this point. Find a particular passage he was looking for. Gets comfortable by sitting in her favorite chair.

BENNY READING :

Here I am in my safe place writing to ease my mind. Seems like the only thing I can do to take my mind off what's going on in the world. Not to mention the pain in my ankle. Clumsy me tripped on a pair of shoes. In a hurry as usual. Tried to be brave. Withstands the pain! Lost cause! Crying till I see Benny in the doorway. Rushing over to see what happened. Carried me to my messy bed. Remember what we learned from our health class last week about first aid. Went to get an ice pack. Along with some meds. Also he elevated my foot. Pulls me so close to him. At that moment. Feel something different in my gut. Something I never felt before. Love. Not the kind from my family, but how can I explain it! Never felt like this before. Heart pounding right now. Hope Benny doesn't know that. Closed my eyes as I heard the voice of Will yelling," Are you doing up here?! Gonna be late for school! Oh shit what happened?!" Benny tells him about what happened. Anger subsides. Goes home to tell his parents about me. After that Will stays with me for a while. Till he gets up telling Benny to stay . He already missed two classes. Can't miss chemistry. There is an important experiment he can't miss. He would tell the attendance officer that I got hurt. Benny is out with the flu. A very good excuse. After he left . Went to sleep.

Woke up sometime later. The Sound of snoring fills my ears. So deep. Yet soothing. Sure I cuddle with him plenty of times. That is when we were young. Now? Almost an adult? Shit! Am I falling in love with my best friend? Answer? Yes I Am. Think I have been since.. Don't know the exact moment. Think it was after a hellish school day. Benny missed practice to stay with me. Went to our favorite spot by the lake. So peaceful. Thanked him for bringing me here. At that moment.. thought I imagined it. Benny kissed me! It was amazing! So sweet! Weak in the knees. At that moment. Finally realized. Benny James Miller is my soulmate. Hope he feels the same way.

Closed the journal to the sound of her footsteps on the hardwood floor. Her sweet scent feels the room. She comes over to sit on his lap. Head rests on his shoulder, " Need some cuddles with my Benny bear. I'm so tired. Can't stay awake any longer. Need your scent around me. " Kissed the top of her head. Pull her close to him, " I'll do anything ya want. Be here when ya wake. Like I have always been . By your side. Nothin has changed. Okay, one thing has changed. Found another part of our heart. Whom we never thought in a million years it would be.." Sound of a deep voice filled the room to interrupt Benny's thoughts. Santiago Garcia. Who thought him and Dixie would be in a Poly relationship. Feels so right. Santi kneels down, " Poor baby girl. Looks like she had a hard day. How about we all snuggle on the bed?" Benny tried to get up. Dixie stirs," Is daddy here? Miss him." Santi chuckles as Benny passes her to him. Snuggling against him, " I'm here little one. Daddy's here. Time to put our doctor to bed hmm?. Want that?" Nodding as she pulls him close," Careful. Worry about your knees. " Santi looks at her smiling," I'll be careful . " Benny prepares the bed. Placed her in the middle of the bed. Santi lay on the left,and Benny on the other. Snuggling against Benny's chest while Santi rubs her neck," We got you baby girl. Let the stress of the day go. Sleep. We will be here when you wake." Benny looks at Santi ," Ya know? Never thought.. all those years ago you had those kinds of feelings for me,and Dixie. Never told us what started that kind of journey." Santi reached for Benny's hand. Gave it a squeeze," I'll tell you. As a bedtime story for later."

NOTE: I had been sitting on this idea for a while now. At first I wasn't gonna include Santi in it. I thought the first draft should be deleted. Glad I did. I'm happy with this one. I know it's short. Just getting my writing groove back. This year I have lost my passion for writing. Sorry about that. Hope to write more. 💚💚

#Triple Frontier #benny miller x reader #Garett Hedlund #soulmates

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jesternene · 1 year

Text

Unexpected Circumstances

Thank you for all the kind words! I am a little rusty so hopefully, I do not disappoint y'all! Here is Chapter 2!

To read Chapter 1, please go here

CHAPTER 2

Selar stood there for a moment, which must have seemed like an eternity for Beverly. As a Vulcan, Selar is a very logical individual, never letting her emotions cloud her judgment. But in this case, she didn’t know how to respond. She knew deep down all she had to do was what Dr. Crusher asked of her, but knowing the kind of character Beverly is, she couldn’t find a logical reason behind her request. Of course, she knew Beverly could have a social life that she is unaware of, but seeing how much Beverly works and being a senior officer on the Federation Flagship, she knew it was irrational that she would be able to have one, much less get pregnant. Selar shook her head slightly and proceeded with what Beverly asked her.

“Of course, Doctor. Please make yourself comfortable and lay on the biobed” Selar said, collecting her devices as Beverly prepped to lay on the bed. She removed her robe and placed it over a chair and got as comfortable as she could on the bed. When she lifted her shirt, she noticed a small swell of her belly, something she had not noticed before. Selar noticed what she was staring at and could already tell that her first opinion was the correct one. Selar then turned on the biomonitors before waving her own tricorder over Beverly’s belly.

The screen closest to them turned on and a fetus popped up on the monitor. Beverly instinctively covered her mouth with her hand and started to cry. The flood gates had opened and there was no going back. Selar took a deep breath before reading her findings.

“Your suspicions are correct, Doctor. What we see here is a very healthy 14 week human fetus” Selar stated. Beverly quickly looked at her in a bit of shock.

“Human?” Beverly asked.

“Yes, Doctor. This fetus is fully human. Did you suspect otherwise?” Selar questioned.

“I uh – I just wasn’t sure” Beverly fumbled with her words. She was surprised because the only being she was with was Picard’s doppelgänger and he was most definitely not a human. “Can you check my implant and see what kind of malfunction occurred?” Beverly requested.

As Selar waved her instrument over Beverly’s arm, she had a quizzical look that made Beverly raise a brow. “What is it?”

“According to this, your implant has not malfunctioned. In fact, it is working perfectly” Selar replied.

“That doesn’t make any sense. I couldn’t have gotten pregnant if this was working properly” Beverly was baffled at the information that was given to her, and so was Selar.

“I am unsure of the cause. But, what we do know is we must begin your prenatal treatment as soon as possible” Selar said as she was putting away her tricorder. Beverly sighed and began to get up from the bed and place on her robe.

“Dr. Selar, I am going to need you to be very discreet about this. We may have to do my care in secret until I am ready to explain all of this to everyone” Beverly quietly said, looking down at the small but noticeable bump.

“Of course. However, due to the late gestation, you will not be able to keep this a secret for very long. I would assume you would like to tell the father of the baby first” Selar said. Beverly was a bit taken aback, as she had no idea who the father was and didn’t really want to think about that.

“Actually, we are gonna need to do extensive testing first. I know you said the baby was human, but–” Beverly trailed off and took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. Selar just quietly listened as she continued. “I wasn’t with a human and whatever this species is, maybe that is why my implant didn’t work, but I need to figure out what happened and if there is any risk to me or.. Or the baby” Beverly explained with such sadness. Selar knew this was far more complicated than she realized and was completely out of her element.

“I see” Selar said, keeping herself as professional as possible. “If you want, I can be by your quarters at 1300 hours and we can do the tests in a more private manner”

“I will be on duty during that time” Beverly explained, but Selar just placed her hand up to stop her from continuing.

“Nonsense, Doctor. You will take the day off and I will be on duty in your absence. This news is clearly a shock and you will need time to absorb this information. I will excuse myself at that time and meet you in your quarters” Selar explained. Beverly’s mouth agape as she spoke, in shock of what she was willing to do to help her. She almost protested but knew Selar was right, she would need time to process.

“Thank you, Doctor. That means a lot to me” Beverly said with tears in her eyes.

“As Chief Medical Officer, I am at your service to help you in time of need, Doctor. I will see you later this afternoon” Selar said, with a small hint of a smile on her lips. Beverly just smiled back and nodded before she exited sickbay and headed back to her quarters.

____________________________________________

Beverly tried to rest but couldn’t. The news of her pregnancy kept playing over in her mind and the more she thought about being with that alien made her sick to her stomach. She could terminate the pregnancy, but with it being farther in term and still unsure of what the species was, she would need more tests before she continued.

She has sent a subspace message to Picard early that morning to inform him of the shift change, only stating she was not well but will be fine by her next duty shift. She didn’t want to face him nor have to explain the situation. She was still trying to figure it out herself. After a hour nap and a few hours just pacing in her room, her door chimed. Thinking Selar was early, she let whoever was there enter. To her surprise, Captain Picard entered her room.

“Jean-Luc!” She stood up quickly from her couch, tightening the already closed robe around her. Picard noticed quickly something was wrong with her. She clearly didn’t sleep and her jumpy demeanor made him more worried than he was before as he entered her quarters.

“I’m sorry, Beverly. I didn’t mean to frighten you” he said apologetically.

“No, It’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night” Beverly tried to play it cool and ran her hands through her hair.

“I can tell” Picard commented.

“Excuse me?” Beverly asked surprisingly.

“You look exhausted. I saw your message and I wanted to see if you were alright” Picard answered calmly but still a hint of concern was heard in his tone.

“Oh, yes… I wasn’t feeling well last night and Dr. Selar graciously took my shift today” Beverly sighed but smiled.

“I see. Is it anything serious?” Picard worried. Beverly hesitates before answering. She hated lying to Picard but until she had more answers, she felt she had no choice.

“No, I’ll be fine” Beverly said with as much reassurance as possible. Just then, her door chimed. “Come in”

Dr. Selar entered but stopped suddenly when she saw the Captain standing in the middle of Beverly’s quarters. “I’m sorry. I came to check on Dr. Crusher to make sure she is recovering nicely” Selar said to the Captain.

“Do you know what is wrong?” Picard asked. As Selar was about to answer, Beverly intervened.

“No, not yet. We still have some more tests to do” Beverly said before looking down, not making eye contact. Picard took the hint that he needed to leave, which gave him a slight hint that they were keeping something from him but he didn’t push.

“Of course. I will check on you later, Beverly” Picard smiled. Beverly looked at him and smiled. Him using her name in a personal matter meant how much he cared and was worried, which made Beverly’s heart swell. He quietly turned and left her quarters.

“How are you feeling?” Selar asked.

“I don’t even know anymore” Beverly responded before sitting down on her couch. “I hate lying to him” she looked down in shame.

“Well, let’s find out what we are dealing with so you no longer have to lie to him” Selar said before kneeling down before Beverly to begin her examination. Beverly only chuckled lightly at her comment. “I am going to extract some blood from your abdomen and we will give it thorough testing on what this child is and compare it to any known species in our database” Selar explained.

Beverly nodded nervously and let Selar hypospray her with a pain blocker before extracting the blood. It was quick and simple. Selar was at Beverly’s dining table, testing the sample on her tricorder.

“This is curious” Selar said as she studied the results.

“What is?” Beverly asked in a concerned tone.

“There is no doubt, Doctor. This child is 100% human” Selar explained.

“What?!” Beverly said in shock as she stood up to look at the results herself. “This is impossible!” Beverly explained, not trusting the results in front of her.

“I’m sorry but there is no doubt” Selar said. She looked at Beverly carefully before continuing. “Can you tell you what this species looked like?”

Beverly shot her a quick look, unsure how to answer that question. Beverly sighed and sat in a chair next to Selar.

“Do you remember a few months ago, we had that imposter who posed as Captain Picard?” Beverly asked. Selar raised her brow, unsure where this was going and simply nodded. Before continuing, Beverly took a deep breath and confessed. “I was with that imposter. I thought I was with Captain Picard but I wasn’t” Beverly explained. Her face dropped in regret over what she did. The feeling of being used by this alien species also tugged on the back of her mind.

“May I ask a question?” Selar asked, which wasn’t at all what Beverly was expecting.

“Of course” Beverly responded.

“Wasn’t this alien a perfect replica of Captain Picard?” Selar asked. Beverly blinked a few times, unsure how to answer, Selar pressed on.“We are unsure what this species is capable of. Not only did they replicate a perfect looking Captain, maybe they produced an exact copy. Down to his DNA” Selar finished.

As Beverly let her words sink in, it all started to come together. His memories and feelings were intact. His surprise visit to her sickbay showed he was Captain Picard, down to his artificial heart. If what she is saying is true, then the child she is carrying is not an unknown alien, but may be the Captain’s.

“Selar, compare the blood test to Captain Picard’s DNA” Beverly asked in a stoic manner. Without hesitation, Selar began to test the blood. Within a few moments, they had their answer.

“It is confirmed. The child you are carrying is the child of Jean-Luc Picard” Selar informed.

____________________________________________

To read Chapter 3, please go here

#beverly crusher #gates mcfadden #star trek #tng #the next generation #picrusher #star trek the next generation #star trek tng #fan fic

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phoenixstark1708 · 6 months

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the daughter of an archangel pt.3

I flew until I physically couldn’t anymore, landing somewhere near LA. I knew I was in california, but I needed to be in malibou point. I was exhausted, but I forced myself to continue. It was around an hour before I saw the building bucky was talking about; it had large windows, and was positioned on the side of a cliff. I decended quickly, crashing on a balcony. I heard a robotic male voice say “mr.stark, there is an unknown human female on the balcony; proceed with caution.” I tensed up, ready to be punished. A man walked out of the house with a gun pointed directly at me “who are you?!” he demanded “whats your name!? Answer me!” I was still laying crumpled on the deck “i- my name is ph-phe-” I passed out before I could finish.

I woke up chained to a hospital bed that was oddly comfortable, I was used to a stone floor though, so my standards werent high. A nurse saw I was awake, and walked out of the room. The man walked back in with a police officer “who are you kid?” the man questioned “my name is phoenix.” I responded “who are your parents?” the officer asked “i- I don’t ha-” the man cut me off “i am. Im her father, you cant kick her out if she has a guardian.” the officer looked at the man quizically “okay mr.stark. I think my work is done then. If you know who she is… jane doe is phoenix stark.. Got it!” the cop walked away. “why did you say that? Youre not my father, I don’t have a father.” the man sat down next to me “How old are you, kid?” he ignored my question. “what is the year?” “its 2010.” “then I am 14.” I said, surprised at how old I was. A doctor walked in, and spoke to the man “she is severely malnourished, she is very underweight, and has several untreated infections. It seems her bones have been broken and set many times, and her body is covered in scars, its honestly a shock that she is still alive.” I was vaguely listening to him. “should we get her food?” “not yet, I don’t know how her body would react. It seems she has been without food for days, if not weeks. I'll start an IV with what she needs, and we’ll go from there.” with that, the doctor left the room, leaving me with the man “im tony. Tony stark. What happened to you?” he asked “i escaped. I couldn’t take the punishments, sir.” I avoided eye contact, something I was trained to do. “you don’t have to call me sir, you can call me tony.” “okay… tony” “and you can make eye contact, kid.” I looked in his eyes, and recognised the same emotion that bucky had in his eyes the night we met, but it was different. “who did you escape from?” he asked gently “h-hydra” I winced just saying the name. Tony's eyes nearly jumped out of his skull “HYDRA?!” I shied back, hearing the anger in his voice “so theyre taking kids now!” I was confused “they didn’t take me, they created me. Im nothing but a freak grown in a test tube.” I began to tear up, recalling all the times I was told that. “hey, youre not a freak. Having wings if fricking awesome, kid.” I laughed, enjoying the light-hearted nature of the conversation. The doctor walked in with an IV bag, and inserted the needle into my skin. I didn’t even flinch, hell I barely even felt it.

I was admitted to the hospital and stayed there for around 5 days. Tony was very busy and only visited once a day, and sometimes he didn’t. I didn’t mind, I was enjoying the rest, and the food. The food was the best I'd ever tasted. At first, I was put on a liquid diet which consisted of broth, juice, and ice. I didn’t care, it was incredible. After the first 2 days, I was given the option of solid food, so I tried all the things that I'd never even dreamed of trying. I had a grilled cheese sandwich, and potato chips! It was incredible! I had never felt so lucky. I spoke to tony about the HYDRA base, but when they got there, it was empty. The only thing they found was a small note carved into the wall, it read “live your life, dove.” I felt incredibly terrible, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to find him. I had no doubt they put him back on the ice. When I was discharged from the hospital, tony took me to the house that I crash-landed on. I was greeted by a beautiful and kind red-headed woman named pepper, and a grumpy man called happy. I giggled at the irony.

I was shown to a room that was much larger than my cell. It had a big, soft thing in the middle that I learned was called a ‘bed’. I was given a change of clothes, that were just my size. So I stripped out of the hospital gown to change “woah! Hey, kid you can close the door” tony averted his eyes and closed it. It felt very strange to have privacy. I laid down on the bed and relaxed. Im pretty sure I slept for a week. I was woken up by pepper coming into my room “hey, good morning honey! I brought you some food.” I ate quietly, and she sat on the bed “how are you doing?” I was definitely not used to people caring about me. “good” I mumbled, instantly flinching, expecting to be hit. No blow came. “youre safe sweetheart. No one is going to hurt you here.” I looked up at her, greeted with sympathy-filled eyes. “i have someone I want you to talk to. Its someone with a school, we should know where youre at. Are you okay to meet with him?” I nodded, completely oblivious as to what in the world ‘school’ was.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #female reader #smut #avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #catws #dom!reader #marvel mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #marvel movies #avengers infinity war #the avengers #marvel comics

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linesfromzaun · 2 years

Note

Can I ask for more Dad!Silco x Mother!Reader, Baby!Jinx 🥺🙏?

Of course!!! I had this idea in my head for a bit, and imma put it here since y’all love it so much!!

Rating: G

Tags: crying baby, Silco being a good husband, fluff, comfort

Piercing wails from the cradle across the room wakes you from your sleep.

Jinx was a little over 9 weeks, and went from a peaceful baby to child who could barely sleep. You worried for her, hoping nothing was wrong.

You sat up to comfort Jinx for what felt like the millionth time tonight, until a hand grasped your forearm.

“I’ve got her, get some rest. I will call the doctor shortly to see if anything is troubling her.” You give an exhausted nod and lie back down under the covers.

You hear the faint whispers of Silco hushing Jinx and saying sweet words to her. He takes her out of the room to the office, allowing you to have some peace.

As much as you wanted to fall back asleep, all you could do was think about Jinx and her health. Your chest felt tight and the head swam with anxiety. What we’re you doing wrong? What if you weren’t meant to be a mother?

Once Silco had gotten her to calm down, he placed her back in her cradle with her stuffed monkey to fall asleep. Sighing, he got back under the covers with you. Your sniffling alerted him, and he instantly pulled you into his arms. “It’s alright, we’ll figure out what is wrong.”

“What am I doing wrong, Sil?” A kiss is pressed to your forehead and he wipes away a stray tear.

“You are doing nothing wrong, you are a wonderful mother.” You curl into him, allowing him to rest his chin on the crown of your head.

____

The next morning consisted of getting Jinx ready for a check up, and Silco being there every step of the way. He knew how your postpartum anxiety was, to not be able to do anything to ease it was eating him from the inside out.

“This doctor took very good care of you, I am sure she will do the same for Jinx.”

“You are doing the best you can, that is the best mother Jinx could ever ask for.”

“I am so proud of you, my love, and I am here no matter what.”

When you finally arrived, the doctor was quick to take you both in and see Jinx.

“Silco, you informed me that she hasn’t been sleeping well?” The doctor grabs a clipboard and he nods silently. “Any other symptoms that have been abnormal for her?”

“I’ve noticed she has been spitting up a lot more, sometimes she doesn’t even want to eat.” The doctor nods and writes some more down on her clipboard.

“Mom, is it okay if I give Jinx a few pokes? I think I might know what’s bothering her.” You nod and allow her to take Jinx, watching closely. “Hiya, cutie! I’m gonna poke your belly a little bit, and if you don’t show any signs of pain, I’m just going to take a liiiitle swab and see if my first guess is right.”

The doctor lies her down on the soft padded table and gives Jinx a few tiny presses with her fingers. Jinx let’s out a little giggle at the ticklish feeling, and you and Silco relax. “So no pain there, let me swab your mouth real quick aaaaaaand done! Okay, you can go back to mommy and daddy, I promise I’m done!” She gently hands you back Jinx, and you kiss her head. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to test this pH level, nothing bad! Just a routine test.”

Once the nurse exits the door you turn to Silco, who’s leg is bouncing at a thousand miles an hour. “I’m surprised I didn’t throw up.” Silco let’s out a chuckle at your honesty and rubs your back with a free hand.

“You did look a little pale, my dear.” He rests his elbows on his knees and looks at Jinx. “You’ve given us quite the scare, little one, I am glad your tummy doesn’t hurt.” You smile as he presses a kiss to her cheek and she smiles at him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say the word “tummy” before.” Silco rolls his eyes is fein embarrassment.

“It’s only for my little girl, don’t get comfortable with it.” You giggle and watch as Jinx toys with his fingers, smiling as they wiggle in her hands.

A knock on the door is heard and you both straighten up. “So, her saliva did test for a low pH, but if anything: I only have good news. What she has is a little acid reflux, but it is temporary and extremely treatable.” You let out a huge sigh and hold Jinx a little tighter. “I’m guessing when she does eat, she consumes a lot of milk?”

“Yeah, she eats like it’s her last meal.” The doctor laughs and writes something down.

“So, we’re going to have to break up her meals more, pace her throughout the day. Try to have her sit up as she feeds if she’s having a particularly bad episode. Have her upright at least 2-3 hours after feeding. Keep her on that route and she’ll be back to her normal self!”

“Thank you, we appreciate it so much.”

“Not a problem at all, I’m glad she’s okay! Jinx has some good parents to check on her like this.” You smile and allow your little family to be escorted out of the building.

Once you had arrived home, you get so much calmer. Doing as the doctor ordered and once Silco had gotten her to sleep: it stayed that way.

Walking out of your shared bedroom, you walked up to him and pulled him into you. You kiss him deeply and wrap your arms around his neck. Pulling away, you see a slight blush on his nose and cheek.

“Well, that was a lovely surprise.”

“That’s my “thank you” to you, I think I would’ve lost my shit if I didn’t have you here.” He chuckles and pulls you in closer.

“No “thank you’s” needed, I’m doing just as I swore in my vows to you.”

#idk how good this is but I’ll post it 😭#i know damn well Silco would hire the best doctors #arcane silco #silco #silco x reader #silco fanfic #silco x female reader #silco x y/n #silco one shot #silco my beloved #baby jinx

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joaquinwhorres · 2 years

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Tailspin - Part 2 (Fanboy Garcia x F!OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Having grown up just across the bridge from North Island, Carolina Alvarez has been told her whole life to stay away from the Top Gun boys. And for the most part, she has. That is, until Fanboy catches her putting quarters in the jukebox at The Hard Deck and initiates a game of cat and mouse that ends with her exactly where she swore she’d never be.

PAIRING ››››› Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x F!OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,845

WARNINGS ››››› None

MASTERLIST ››››› Here

A/N ››››› I can't believe I forgot to mention my lovely beta-readers @rae-gar-targaryen and of course @bobfloydsbabe. @bobfloydsbabe has also done me the honor of allowing me to use her OC Jasmine Lane in this story which I am beyond thankful for.

Caro never planned on coming back to the Hard Deck.

Given her reluctance to even step foot in the navy bar in the first place and the subsequent events which had done nothing but affirm her initial aversion, coming back now seemed borderline masochistic. She'd already spent more than her fair share of time within the wood paneled walls.

But she'd promised him that she would come for a drink, and she was nothing if not a woman of her word.

No matter how ill-thought her word might have been.

Caro took another deep breath in as she eyed the oceanside bar out of her passenger-side window. And then, before she could convince herself to do the smart thing and just go home, she pulled her keys from the ignition and propelled herself out of the driver's seat and towards the wooden front doors. She allowed the momentum of her decision to push her through the doors and back into the last place on earth she wanted to be.

Even in the early evening light, the interior of the bar looked largely the same. It was still full of men and women in the same starched tan uniforms. It was still undeniably and inescapably Navy themed. It was still what some might generously describe as cozy.

Caro scanned the room, eyes searching the groups of laughing friends and jockulating sailors that dotted the room. Her eyes caught on several tanned figures with their dark hair buzzed short, her breath catching in her throat each time before they turned and revealed a nose that was too long or lips that were too thin.

She had just decided to get herself a drink before doing a walk around when, halfway through her first step, she was very nearly run over.

"Oh!" Caro exclaimed, hands shooting out to hold the shoulders of the auburn haired woman who had suddenly shot in front of her. The move was successful in keeping them from fully colliding into each other and tumbling to the floor. Instead, the other woman startled back, the drink in her hand sloshing between them as her head whipped forward from where she'd been staring over her shoulder.

The surprise on her face only grew.

"Doctor Alvarez?"

Caro blinked, her mind venturing through the haze of surprise to pin a name to the familiar face that stood before her.

"Jasmine!" Caro breathed, letting her hands fall from her patient's shoulders. "Hi."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't get any on you, did I?" Jasmine asked, eyes scanning Caro's loose floral shirt and jeans for the tell tale splotches of alcohol. Caro joined her in the quick assessment, and shook her head.

"You missed me," she said, eyes rising back to meet Jasmine's face. "How are you?"

"Good." The word was high and breezy and sounded very much like the "yeah" Jasmine offered whenever Caro asked if she'd been keeping up with stretching at home. "You?"

"I'm good too," Caro lied, offering a professional smile that seemed to put even her most nervous patients at ease. Only instead of noddign or smiling or wrapping up the conversation there, Jasmine's head tilted once more, this time more slight as her eyes also narrowed the smallest bit in assessment. She'd forgotten that Jasmine was well versed with the bedside smile. She'd probably given out plenty of them hserself. "I'm here with the office for Bryson's birthday," Caro explained, hoping to carry the conversation along and away from herself.

This seemed to successfully distract the other woman as Jasmine's eyebrows shot up. "Here?"

Caro laughed, running a hand through her hair. "He picked it out, I don't know."

"Not really the place for birthday drinks," Jasmine remarked, looking around the room, and Caro could not possibly have agreed with her any more than she did right then.

"You come here often?"

Jasmine barked out a laugh, her characteristic grin finally making an appearance. "Are you hitting on me, doctor?"

The question pulled Caro out of her head, a laugh escaping her as she felt herself relax a little, the surprise of seeing Jasmine and anxiety over being here at all leaving her for a moment. It was Jasmine's gift, she'd noticed; getting people to step out of themselves if even just for a moment. It was part of the reason Caro had come to enjoy their weekly sessions so much.

"You just seemed to know it well."

Jasmine acknowledged this with a bobble of her head. "Yeah, it's the big place to come after work on base."

Caro really should have known that. She knew Jasmine was a doctor on base and this was a Navy bar. It made all of the sense in the world for Jasmine to be here and not expect her entire chiropractor's office to be seated around one of the tables.

"Any advice, then?" Caro asked.

Jasmine's smile grew at the question, and Caro had to admit it sounded a little dumb asking for advice on how to navigate a bar, but before she could say as much, Jasmine was talking. "Yeah. Stay away from sailors, and don't put your phone on the bar."

Despite the fact that Caro was the absolute last person who needed to be warned away from Navy boys, she still felt grateful that she wasn't the only one who seemed to see through the sailors' charades.

"Thanks," Caro smiled, this one warmer and more genuine than the first she had offered, and Jasmine seemed to notice this too. "I guess I should probably work my way over to the group, but it was good to see you."

"You too," Jasmine nodded, her brow creasing as she noticed something over Caro's shoulder. "Tell Bryson happy birthday from me."

"I will," Caro answered, but she'd hardly gotten it out before Jasmine had started off, disappearing quickly in the crowd and leaving Caro alone once more.

Despite the crowd, the battle towards the bar was fairly easy and service came rather quickly. It wasn't long before Caro had a tequila soda in hand and was approaching her coworkers table. The group of three had already been here for forty-five minutes, and a couple of shot glasses and three glasses with varying levels of drink in them were scattered amongst them. It seemed that they were not too far gone though because Robin noticed her fairly quickly.

"Caro, you made it!" the office manager greeted, beaming and moving over in her seat so that Caro could slip in. "Hard time leaving the house?"

That was an understatement. Not only did she have a difficult time getting out the door of her house, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to get out of her car for a good fifteen minutes. Instead, she sat in the parking lot, staring over her steering wheel as she tried to find it in her to go inside the bar.

"There was a little drama around missing shoes. Sorry I'm so late," she apologized. Robin laughed, shaking her head knowingly at Caro as the coworkers across the table gave her looks that belied their suspicions. Gia eyed her carefully, as if she might break at any moment and the younger receptionist didn't want to be caught in the mess. Bryson, for his part, looked a bit too happy to see her; as if his large toothy smile could make up for her own discomfort.

"You're fine," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "It's just a shame you missed the singalong."

"The singalong?" Caro repeated. If Gia had been the one to mention it, Caro might suspect that she was being messed with, but not only was Bryson too earnest to ever even think of the joke, he couldn't keep up under the pressure of continuing it.

"Some guy unplugged the jukebox and played a few songs at the piano," Gia filled in. "Him." She reached across Bryson, pointing out a man wearing a ridiculous Hawiian shirt and aviators indoors. Everything about him practically screamed Top Gun pilot, and that was before Caro even noticed the dark haired woman in the khaki uniform next to him.

Her eyes didn't linger on the pair long, too drawn to the jukebox in the corner that looked exactly the same as it had the first time she ever saw it. The urge to cross the room and greet her old friend rose in her, a wistful smile crossing her lips as she listened to it belt out "The Boys Are Back in Town".

"I know, he's cute, right?"

Caro tore her gaze away from the jukebox and back to Gia, blinking as she worked to make sense of the comment. The singer, she remembered, prompting her eyebrows to shoot up at Gia. "He looks ridiculous."

"But his voice," Bryson practically swooned. "I'm telling you, that voice alone could get someone pregnant tonight."

She felt the rustling of Robin's foot swinging under the table and into Bryson's shin, causing the man to wince.

"Has anyone brought you a drink yet?" Caro asked, choosing to breeze over the awkwardness even as Bryson reached down to rub at his leg.

"Just these two," he said, gesturing to Robin and Gia as he straightened up. "I'm eyeing out my prospects now, though. Letting my gaydar acclimate."

Gia and Caro laughed at this, Caro looking out over the bar as if she had any kind of skill in picking out men. Her eyes skipped along the different groups, hoping to catch the gaze of someone looking over at the table when instead she caught sight of an oddly familiar blonde leaning over the bar to get the bartender's attention.

Her eyebrows knit together as she tried to place where she'd seen him before, flipping through the variable rolodex in her head. It wasn't until she turned to the college years that she came up with it though, and she doubted she would have been able to place him if she had seen him anywhere else.

He was a Top Gun pilot.

A former Top Gun pilot.

"You ok?" Robin asked, and Caro blinked, turning back to the group and offering a fleeting smile.

"Yeah," she affirmed, her voice sounding distant, like it hadn't returned to the table with her. "I just thought I saw this pilot my old roommate used to hook up with."

"Really? Where?" Gia asked, sitting up in her seat to peer into the crowd even as Caro shook her head.

"It's probably not him," she said. "People don't come back to Top Gun."

The statement was met with sympathetic looks from Bryson and Robin that made Caro feel very much like coming here was a mistake. Not only did she have to deal with her own neuroses all night, but now there was this.

As if God wanted to confirm this thought, a new song came on the jukebox, the twanging chords of the intro knocking all of the air out of Caro's lungs. Her chest constricted at the sound of Van Morrison's voice picking up the first verse.

"Caro?"

Instead of looking at whoever said her name, Caro's eyes snapped to the jukebox as if by muscle memory. It was a stupid reflex, a useless one. Because she was right: people didn't come back to Top Gun. What did happen was long work weeks made high strung people ready to assume the worst and most ridiculous outcomes of totally normal coincidences. If this could even be called that.

But as her eyes landed on the brown-skinned man in the service khakis standing by the jukebox, his hair still buzzed and smile just as bright as ever, all semblance of logic and rationality escaped her.

Because this should not be happening. He could not be looking back at her across the bar right now.

"Oh my God," Caro whispered, feeling very much like she was going to throw up.

Across the table, Bryson leaned forward. "Girl, you are whiter than Gia. What's happening?"

She knew what he was saying, knew what he meant, but she couldn't manage to form any sort of response other than repeating again: "Oh my God."

Over by the jukebox, the man's smile seemed to waver slightly, as the rest of the table turned to shift their concerned looks from Caro to the direction she was looking. He gave a small, awkward wave.

"Is that…?" Gia turned around first, cutting herself off as if not wanting to speak the end into existence. It's not like they needed her to finish the question anyway. They all knew exactly what she was going to ask.

Caro nodded slowly, watching as confusion and concern overtook his features and missing Bryson's eyes widening in shock. "Holy shit."

"He's coming over here," Gia announced needlessly as the others were already watching him start to move towards the table.

Robin shifted in her seat next to Caro, trying to usher her out of the booth. "I'll head him off," she said, making a shooing motion which Caro followed on instinct, only stopping once she was standing at the edge of the seat, looking between her coworkers and the last person she wanted to see.

"No, I–no," Caro said, fumbling in her attempt to pull herself together. "I think I should…you…I'll–I'll be right back."

The other three looked at her silently, Robin looking very much like she wanted to stop her. But she didn't. Instead she pressed her lips into a line and nodded.

Caro mirrored the gesture, pausing for another moment before turning to move towards him.

The two met by the bar where the crowd was thickest and preoccupied by getting their drinks or enticing someone into coming home with them. Caro was thankful for the crowd now if only for the fact that it meant she didn't have to be stuck alone with him.

The aviator planted himself before her, a tentative smile back on his lips now that he was certain he at least had her attention.

"Hey," he greeted, brown eyes soft and excited, just like they had always been. They pinned Caro to the spot making her feel suddenly small and even more unprepared for this moment than she thought possible.

"Hi," she breathed. The word came out more as an exhale than actual language, and his lips quirked up slightly more at the sound.

"Come here often?"

It was odd, hearing the question come from him with the same words and same intention she'd had when asking Jasmine fifteen minutes ago. Yet despite the teasing lilt in his voice, the line made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Never," she managed, and he chuckled at this.

"I'm guessing you still don't talk to Top Gun pilots then?"

"What are you doing here, Mickey?"

Whether it was the question itself or the accusational tone that delivered it, the confused-concern washed the smile from Mickey's face once more. Only the corner of his mouth seemed to keep its bit of happiness, curving up just slightly into a sheepish sort of look.

"I got called back," he answered with a shrug. "Payback's here too–Reuben." He gestured to the pool tables where a group of sailors stood watching them, including the man with the ridiculous Hawiian shirt, the woman with tied up dark hair, and a familiar dark-skinned pilot who had apparently grown a mustache since she'd last seen him. "I'm sure he wants to say hi."

Caro blinked, shaking her head slightly in disbelief as she returned her attention to him. "Why'd you—I didn't think—you're back?"

"Not for good," Mickey admitted, his shoulders sinking as he said it. "Just a few weeks."

"A few weeks," she repeated.

His confusion was dwarfed by obvious concern now, and he took a moment to look at her, really look at her, eyes roving and assessing each detail of her that might have changed in the past five years. She wanted to disappear then, off into the crowd like Jasmine had or melt through the floor; whatever was fastest.

"Are you ok? You seem—" he trailed off searching for the right word but ultimately seemed unable to find it, switch gears instead to ask: "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," Caro admitted.

Something in her face or maybe the fact that she didn't even attempt to deny that something was very obviously horrendously wrong hit Mickey, and hurt flashed in his eyes.

"I tried to text you," he said, hesitantly, and Caro's breath caught in her chest once more. He hurried to explain. "Just to tell you that I would be in town. I know we haven't spoken in a while, but I wanted to see you."

Mickey took a step towards her, and Caro leaned back, out of his reach. "Why?" This word was once more just breath, and if she had any control over her faculties at the moment, she wouldn't have even asked it. She knew why, and she didn't want it confirmed.

He shrugged. "I missed you."

She closed her eyes and turned her head away at this, unable to bear the hopeful look on his face. Like this was what she wanted to hear after all this time. Like she wanted to hear anything from him at all anymore.

"Caro–"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as right when he began to continue, Caro was jolted to the side, a cool splash and the overwhelming smell of hops hitting her at the same time.

"Oh my God!" the person who had bumped into her exclaimed as Caro looked down at her shirt to assess the damage. "I am so sorry."

Caro looked up from the dark spots of beer on her shirt, her eyes meeting Jasmine's. There was something far less apologetic in the other woman's eyes and instead more…searching.

"It's ok. It happens," Caro dismissed, pulling the wet shirt from her skin and fluttering it as if that would dry it. For his part, Mickey had darted over to the bar, gathering up a stack of cocktail napkins which he now offered to Caro. She took a few from him in exchange for a quick, tight smile and then proceeded to dab at her shirt.

"I don't think that's going to cut it," Jasmine frowned at the napkins that were already falling apart in Caro's hands. "They have paper towels in the bathroom though, and maybe we can try to rinse it?"

Caro nodded, casting a look at Mickey who seemed very much like he wanted to follow them into the bathroom if it meant that he got to continue his conversation with Caro. "I'm sorry, Mickey," she apologized. "I just–I can't."

She didn't stick around for his response. Not even when he called out her name at her back. Instead, she crossed the bar as quickly as possible, napkins pressed into her side to soak up as much beer as possible. Jasmine matched step.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine. It's an old shirt anyway–" Caro started, but Jasmine shook her head.

"No, I mean with him."

Caro looked at Jasmine, and peering into the other woman's concerned face, she started to piece together what had just happened and why she was on her way into the woman's bathroom. "I probably could have thought of a better way to get you out of there, but you looked trapped." She pulled the door to the women's bathroom open, ushering Caro inside.

Caro sighed, dumping the napkins into the trashcan by the door before moving to the closest sink to start attempting to rinse the beer from her shirt. Behind her, the door swung closed and the rapid sound of the paper towels' dispenser handle being pressed filled the bathroom.

"That's my ex," Caro finally offered, her voice more unsteady than she would have liked it to be while speaking to a patient.

"Your ex?" Jasmine repeated, her pace on the handle slowing as she met Caro's gaze in the mirror. "Like, your ex, your ex?"

Caro nodded.

"Holy shit," Jasmine swore, her hand falling from the paper towels, instead looking blankly around the bathroom as if searching for someone else to ask if they believed this shit. It took a few seconds for her to come back to herself, Caro's shirt now thoroughly damp with the tap water instead of beer. "Do you want me to kick his ass?" she asked finally, placing her hands on her hips and looking for all the world like she would.

Caro snorted. "No, getting me out of there was more than enough. Thank you, by the way."

Jasmine grimaced, tearing off what had to be at least a couple of yards of paper towels and bunching it together. "Us lady doctors need to stick together," she smiled, offering the bundle to Caro. "Especially when it comes to Navy guys."

Caro laughed at this, thinking of Mr. Simmonds who had once gone off in the waiting room about how he would rather wait forty-five minutes for Dr. Katz than be seen by "the lady doctor." Jasmine, who had also been in the waiting room, had looked straight up murderous at the comment and demanded from Bryson that her appointment with Dr. Houten be switched to the lady doctor and only ever the lady doctor from then on out.

Caro accepted the towels and began to attempt to at least alleviate some of the dripping from her shirt. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," Jasmine said with a shake of her head. "At least not until we've successfully gotten you out of here and not just trapped in the women's bathroom."

Caro sighed, defeatedly. Not only were the paper towels not working even a little bit, but there was no way that she could stay to celebrate Bryson while she was half-soaked and Mickey was here. Jasmine was right: she had to escape.

"I'm thinking, I go out there first and run cover, and you grab your purse from your table and make a break for the front door."

Caro laughed, walking over to the trash can and throwing the useless paper towels in. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I'm going to."

Caro smiled as she looked at the other woman, gratitude filling her. "Thanks, Jasmine."

"I think after this, you get to call me Jas."

"Ok," Caro nodded before gesturing to herself. "Then, Caro."

Jas nodded back in agreement before giving Caro an assessing look. "So… you ready, Caro?"

She wasn't. But she never would be. Instead, Caro nodded, dumping the wet paper towels into the garbage. "Might as well be."

The WSO rejoined the group looking just as lost as he had standing alone in the middle of the bar, watching Caro be whisked away from him by some stranger. Rooster noted the look on Fanboy's face with a low whistle, the rest of their group shaking their heads in a mixture of sympathy and amusement, the exact amounts of each emotion clearly varying per person. Only Payback remained still, instead eyeing Fanboy as if he could determine exactly what was said just by looking at his back-seater.

"Shot you down pretty bad, huh?" Rooster asked, his attempt to keep the amusement from his voice clearly failing as he clapped the young aviator on the shoulder.

Coyote didn't even try to hide his own entertainment, as he offered his own commentary. "You were so confident going in," he laughed, mimicking a plane taking off with his hand. "And then…" His plane took a hard nosedive, hurtling towards an explosion which Coyote made sure to voice, his fingers wiggling in shockwaves. Rooster chuckled at this, his hand remaining on Fanboy who had yet to say anything or even shrug him off.

"You ok?" Payback asked.

The sound of genuine concern prompted Phoenix to turn and face him, her eyebrows furrowed together even deeper at this. Even Rooster seemed to take notice of the tone, offering Payback a quick glance before looking back at Fanboy.

"Hey, it happens to the best of us," the pilot said, shaking Fanboy's shoulder a bit before letting his hand drop to his side.

The other man still didn't say anything, just nodded.

"What's up with him?" Phoenix asked, the question directed to Payback and sounding very much as if Fanboy wasn't even there. Which, to be fair, he didn't really seem to be. His gaze had been drawn off towards the bathrooms, his focus unwavering as the corner of his lips pulled down into a frown.

Payback pulled his eyes from Fanboy to Phoenix. "That's his ex."

"Your ex?" Rooster's eyebrows shot up as Coyote let out another laugh.

"Man, you know you gotta run game before you hit up an ex," Coyote remarked, shaking his head. "C'mon."

This comment seemed to be the first one to actually reach Fanboy as he returned his attention to the group. "She didn't answer any of my texts. I mean, we haven't been in touch, but she didn't even open them or anything," he shook his head, seeming to run out of steam or ability to resist Caro's magnetic draw. Or maybe he just knew that the girl's bathroom door was about to open as it did, Caro and the girl who had spilled her drink all over Fanboy's ex, coming out.

Caro chanced a look over to the jukebox and then towards their section of the bar, her shoulders straightening as she noticed Fanboy's attention on her. Her head snapped forwards and she took off quickly to her table of friends, weaving determinedly through the other groups of bar patrons.

"She probably blocked you," Phoenix said bluntly, her eyes tracking the girl's progress as well, watching as she arrived at the booth, grabbing her bag from the seat and offering a few quick words.

Everyone reacted to this differently. Coyote snickered, Rooster grimaced, and Bob winced in sympathy. Fanboy's attention was ripped away from Caro, the full desperation of his look levied against Phoenix who seemed almost…annoyed.

"So what did you do?" she asked, arms crossing across her chest and a single brow lifting up.

"Nothing!" Fanboy defended, and while he did sound understandably offended, there was also the tiniest bit of doubt in his voice. Just enough for someone who had spent hours upon hours with him to notice.

"C'mon she had to have dumped you for a reason," Coyote pressed, joining in on Phoenix's interrogation.

Fanboy's head whipped to Coyote. "She didn't dump me," he snarled. The small display of aggression seemed to take the bit of energy and life he had out of him, as his shoulders slumped back down. Fanboy dropped his gaze to the ground shaking his head. "We just broke up at the end of Top Gun. I had to go back to my squadron and she was going to her grad program."

"So, it was a summer fling thing?" Rooster asked, placatingly.

Fanboy shrugged looking helpless to find the words to describe exactly what had transpired five years ago.

Payback shook his head. "Nah. It was more than a fling."

This confirmation was enough for Phoenix, her arms dropping to her sides as she looked up at Payback. "That's right, you were at Top Gun together," she remembered.

Payback nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, and they seemed legit. I was surprised you guys called it quits."

Fanboy shook his head, offering another shrug. "It was the plan," he said. His gaze wandered from Payback to the direction he had last seen Caro, this time finding her at the door, tugging it open and disappearing outside in one quick motion. "It's what she wanted."

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renee-writer · 3 months

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The Heart Don't Lie Chapter 64

AO3

“No! No, no no!” her screams of pain echo through the A&E. She clings to the seat under her in the small chapel, otherwise known as ‘ the bad news room ‘, “She can’t be dead!” A few doors down in another room, a different doctor is given the same news to Beth’s parents. Speeding towards the hospital are the rest of the family.

“I am so sorry, Miss Fraser. She lost way to much blood. We tried replacing it but…”

Her eyes hollowed out in her grief, turn feral, “She did this! The bitch did it and she will pay!, “ her hands, still stained with her love’s blood, clinch into fist, “oh how she will pay!”

“I believe they arrested the…”

“My mother!” The young doctor’s eyes get wide. He had no idea the butcher was this lass’ mam.

“Miss Fraser, we have grief counselors available.”

“Thank you. Thank you for all you did. I need a few moments alone.”

“Of course.” He leaves her to plot her revenge.

“She is gone! My darling!” Mary falls boneless into Claire’s arms. Kate wraps her arms around her too while Willa lets out a low moan. Her sister!

“Daddy.” He wraps an arm around her. Aye, he must find Rose. Claire meets his eyes and nods.

He nods to Simon, who is holding a weeping Pat. The other man nods back. Jenny and her family are right behind them and will offer attentional shoulders to cry on.

He and Willa go in search of Rose.

She still sits in the chapel, wearing her blood stained wedding dress. At seeing her daddy and sister, she collapses further. “Oh daddy, Willa, she is gone!” They have her in their arms.

He murmurs the same nonsense Gaelic words he used to use to sooth her as a baby. They sit on the floor of the chapel, a knot of pure grief and agony.

“I want her dead,” she announces, “Anna that thing that took my love away. Dead!”

“I know.” Her sister was thunderstruck at finding out who did it. The police told them after arresting her.

“It was the strangest thing. It was like she was waiting on us. Confessed immediately.” The officer told them.

“She was going after Mama Claire. She told me with a smile!” Her voice rises with the last word, “ A bleeding smile!”

Jamie shudders. They told them she has said that but not about the smile. She is well and truly obscenely evil.

“Jesus wept.” Her stunned sister utters.

“She took my love my future and then smiled. Who does that!”

“An evil person,” Jamie has a duty, “she is locked away.”

“Not good enough. As long as she draws breath and Beth doesn’t …” She falls into weeping once more. The hold her.

“That…” followed by a string of curses that is seldom heard even in the A&E. Auntie Jenny is told about Beth’s death.

Ian, Column, and Dougal look at each other. They know they will need to stay close to her, even with Anna locked away.

“I didn’t think of the windows,” Column bemoans, “They were on the second floor.” He blames himself. A promise to protect his great-niece ended with this. Her fiancé dead. Pat and Mary losing their only child.

“It is a grand thing she is already in jail.” Dougal growls. His wife and Column’s remain at Lallybroch seeing to the children. There is none to sooth his anger. Claire would try but…

“I need to find Rose and help her out of her gown.”

It brings a sharper perspective to the horror. The lass is still in her wedding gown.

She moves towards the chapel. Jamie stands at seeing her.

“Sassanach.” She takes his hand and squeezes it. Willa and Rose remain on the floor.

“Rose, my love?” She looks up, her face pale and wan.

“Mama Claire, she’s gone.”

“I know darling. I am so sorry.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“One step at a time. We will help you through it. Starting with changing your clothes.”

She looks down at herself almost surprised at what she wears. “I forgot. We were supposed to be married, sharing a first dance right now.”

“I know baby,” She and Willa get her up, “Come with me.” She leads her out to the hospital showers were she has fresh clothes for her.

She helps her out of her blood soaked gown, takes her hair down from the high knot, helps her into the hot shower. As she weeps, her Mama Claire washes her hair and body, rinses her and dries her, gets her dressed , brushes her hair out, braiding it back. The gown is placed in a biohazard bag until they decide what to do with it.

Step one complete.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #the heart don't lie #chapter 64 #jamie and claire #outlander fandom #cannon divergence #modern au

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peninkwrites · 1 year

Text

Part IV: Lines Drawn in Sand & Concrete - Ch 1 of ?

Loyalties shift, lines are drawn, and soon to follow, the grand opening of a casino.

But first, Sam loses a little more.

[CW: descriptions of dead bodies, referenced past abuse, c!Dream]

Crossposted to ao3

Mafia AU masterpost

Part III

Ch 2 - Ant

Ch 3 - Wilbur & Tommy

Ch 4 - Tubbo & Quackity

Ch 5 - Ponk & Sam

Ch 6 - Niki & Wilbur

Ch 7 - Sapnap & Quackity

Ch 8 - Bad

Ch 9 - Tubbo & Quackity

Ch 10 - Wilbur

Ch 11 - Sapnap

Ch 12 - Eryn

Ch 13 - Quackity & Tubbo

Ch 14 - A Collective (all chapters going forward will be on ao3)

~ Ponk & Sam ~

Sam hasn’t been outside of his apartment in weeks. He’d had a hard time finding someone to look after Fran. In a moment of desperation he’d tried calling Foolish, who had always been happy to dog sit before. Instead, he had gotten quiet when he heard Sam’s voice and said “I don’t think I can. I hope you find someone, though,” in a way that meant he was clearly hoping for Fran’s sake and not Sam’s. It took a while on his list of friends to finally convince Boomer, the person who lived directly below his and P– his apartment. He’d agreed to do it for a little cash. Other than that, Sam had no one coming to check on him. Sapnap had visited in him in the hospital and seemed genuinely concerned, but his concern didn’t warrant house calls. He’d taken a cab to the hospital for his follow up; graduating from a wheelchair to crutches had felt like a small victory when the doctor had openly laughed when he asked when he would be able to go back to work again. Still, crutches restored some of his freedom. He still had Boomer on the payroll to walk Fran, but other than that he could look after her. Even if he couldn’t manage a stubborn Samoyed, he could at least go outside again.

If he had anyone to talk to, he would fervently deny that his first destination being his workplace was pathetic. His job is important; of course he would want to check in. George had given him a less than sympathetic once over before waving him back towards his office. Dream doesn’t stand from Sam’s chair when he knocks and enters, merely looks up in mild surprise.

“Sam. You’re out of the hospital.” Dream doesn’t look especially pleased by the news. “Um, glad to see it. We… we weren’t expecting you back so soon.” He laughs. “I mean, you’re obviously not here to work. What can I…” he trails off, puzzled by Sam’s presence, “help you with?”

Sam ignores the persistent sting of his wounded pride and enters the office without invitation. It’s his office. “I thought I should check in on my department, see how you all are holding up without me.” Sam could sit down. He’d like to, even with crutches it’s far from easy, but he doesn’t. He’d rather not sit on this side of his own desk.

Dream raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the office and the rest of the bullpen through the shaded windows. “I hope I’m running the department to your satisfaction? I mean, we’ve been busy, I’ll admit, but nothing I can’t handle,” he smiles in a way that maybe is supposed to be reassuring instead of patronizing.

Sam is finally inching toward his original goal of coming here, and after a moment’s hesitation, concedes to almost collapse in the chair nearest, doing his best to lean his crutches against the other chair with a shred of dignity. Dream doesn’t comment on Sam clearly settling in, merely watches him struggle with something scathing in his annoying little smile.

“You’ve been busy?” Sam refocuses. “With what?”

“Sam,” Dream sighs, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the desk, fingertips pressed together. “You’re… technically not in active duty right now.” He feigns a sympathetic grimace. “It would be unprofessional of me to share current case information when at the moment you’re…” He gives him a once over. “Just a civilian.”

Sam sits up and hopes Dream doesn’t see him wince. “Medical leave does not revoke my title as your superior officer. If I am telling you to update me, it’s your duty to do so.”

Dream doesn’t blink. “Well, as acting Captain, in that case, I have the same power you do, as an absent Captain.” Dream’s tone remains mild and professional. “Why don’t you take it up with my superior officer?”

“I am your superior officer!” Sam hisses.

Dream is still smiling politely. “Actually, right now I report directly to the Chief of Police; his deputy, if we’re nitpicking. I think you have his contact information.”

“Taken, you do realize when I return to my post, I’m not going to forget your disrespect.” Sam doesn’t know why part of him is not merely angry, there’s fear too, this nagging anxiety growing sharper with every passing moment, like this too is going to slip through his fingertips.

It’s like Dream knows, sensing it like blood in the water. He leans forward, fidgeting with the name plate for Capt. Sam Warden. “Do you think you’re going to be fit to return to active duty any time soon, Sam?”

“I guarantee it.” Sam moves to leave, fearing if he stays another moment he’ll swing his crutch across the desk until Dream bleeds. He stands too fast and has to catch himself on the edge of a chair, unsteady for just a moment as he rights his crutches.

“Careful there, Sam.”

Sam doesn’t bother with a retort. He’s halfway out of the bullpen when he stops, turning sharply toward another familiar desk. There, Sapnap is currently trying to balance a pencil on his nose.

“Halo.”

Sapnap jumps violently, the pencil clattering onto the desk as he fumbles with unfinished paper work there, clearly trying to look like he’d been working on something. “Y-Yeah? Oh! Sam! Uh, Captain, how’s it– You’re here.” He gives up, turning his chair to face Sam, cheeks red and arms folded to stop himself from embarrassing himself further. “You, uh. You look… better.”

“Do you have any recent reports?”

Sapnap glances nervously at his unfinished scramble of reports for his own cases. “...reports?”

“Pull yourself together, Halo, I’m not here to lecture you. I’m just… out of the loop, and my replacement over there is… too busy to bother,” is how Sam chooses to carefully phrase it.

“Oh, oh yeah, shit, you don’t know about this whole deal, do you?” Sapnap focuses up slightly, gesturing to the busy hum of the rest of the department.

Sam bottles further irritation. “Whole deal?”

Sapnap nods fervently. “Bodies, Sam. Like, a bunch of ‘em. We haven’t connected them for sure, like, no one’s released a statement using the s-word yet, but like, that’s my theory right now.”

Sam sighs. “...s-word?”

“Oh, y’know, serial killer. The press would lose their minds, and like, technically the only thing consistent with the murders is like, 90% of them had a record of some kind.”

Sam processes this carefully. “How many? How many exactly since I’ve been gone?”

Sapnap does some counting on his fingers, mulling it over. “Somewhere between four and eleven.”

“Four and eleven? Any reason why the range is so ridiculous?”

“Because, Sam,” Sapnap half laughs, like Sam is being dumb on purpose. “Only one consistent factor. So it’s hard to tell what’s just usual gang violence and what’s from our mystery-killer. And more recently––” Sapnap rummages around his desk, pulling out a file from the bottom of the stack. “––the bodies aren’t just… y’know, stabbed or beaten up or anything, they’re fucking shredded.”

Sapnap opens the folder and holds out a picture of an autopsy table. Even in black and white, it’s not a pretty sight. All the worse that Sam finds it familiar. He stares in fixated dread at symmetrical cuts on either cheek, in rows until they almost looked like morbid whiskers. The cuts continue to cover the torso of the body, like red vines grown from underneath skin. Sam finds it familiar because he’s done it before. He’s almost surprised that Sapnap hasn’t recognized it, but maybe he should know better. Bad did everything he could to make sure Sapnap was kept away from the more gruesome aspects of the family business; it’s part of why Sam thinks Sapnap didn’t have the stomach for it in the end.

“And… and how many of the bodies look like that?” Sam asks, hoping the tremor in his voice isn’t obvious. One more aspect that feels like a secret Sam isn’t inclined to share with Sapnap is that knowing it’s Badlands handiwork, he also can connect why. Skeppy must still be missing.

“That’s…” Sapnap thinks back. “Number five, I think. That looks like that.” Sapnap glances at the photo and winces, quickly stowing it back in the folder. “And that’s not the only like… marking stuff going on, sort of. So, like a month ago, this car got blown up! It was insane, burst a pipe and shit, busted a hole in the storm drains, but it was right after Schlatt’s funeral, and his like… the obituary thing they pass out, it was stabbed into a telephone pole nearby. I dunno if the guy responsible was pro-Schlatt or anti-Schlatt or what, but it definitely sends a message. I mean, we know the car owner was one of Schlatt’s boys, I mean the bomber, I guess.” Sapnap rummages through his paperwork again, more excited now. “And there’s been more of that graffiti all over the East Side! The… crime boy thing or whatever. It showed up after the bodies started turning up–– all the bodies, not just the… weird cut up ones––but that doesn’t mean it isn’t connected, and I think some people might just be nervous, it doesn’t have to be part of some big thing, but a couple petty criminals have actually reported them being attacked, by––get this––a dude in a white mask. Is that freaky, or what?”

“Halo,” Dream speaks up from the doorway of the office.

Sapnap jumps again. “Uh, yeah?”

“Can I see you? In my office?”

Sapnap glances between Sam and Dream. “Sure..?” He looks at Sam, as if waiting for a response.

Sam knows Dream interrupted very much deliberately, but he’s not planning on picking another fight. So he gives Sapnap a nod of acknowledgment. Sapnap stands with a weary sigh and joins Dream, looking like a kid called into the principal’s office.

“Good to see you, Sam. Come visit any time,” Dream says before shutting Sam’s own goddamn door in his face.

Sam seethes in the cab back to his apartment. He can’t stand the thought of returning to staring at the same living room he’d been staring at for a month, so instead he takes a walk. A slow, uncomfortable, unsteady walk, but a walk nonetheless. The route is familiar, even if he’s not used to walking it alone.

Ponk hadn’t wanted Sam hurt, yes, but they’re not above revenge. It’s a slow growing thing. Ponk goes back to work as soon as they can, and finds bitter anger easily as they cannot carry boxes or breathe as deeply. The doctor couldn’t use a hard cast on their arm, at least for the first few weeks, as she had to redress the burns there too. She had been honest with them, expressing some mild concerns about the healing process, the lack of rigidity meaning the bone may not heal perfectly, but the alternative risk of irritating the burns concerned her worse, hence, she prioritized. Their arm would need to be wrapped for the next two months.

It’s harder for Ponk to make their peace with when they can name the man responsible. Still, they don’t plan on acting, on making any move against Sam, until they actually see him again.

The problem with building a life with someone for ten years only to have it end bloody, is that the two of them share most of their local haunts. They were bound to run into each other eventually, Sam too careless to realize the damage he could cause and Ponk refusing to give up any more of their world to Sam.

As such, for the first time outside of a police station, a month after the arrest, Ponk sees Sam again near a food truck almost exactly halfway between Eret’s place and their old apartment. They’re surprised to see he is also in a cast.

“Ponk.” Sam seems just as surprised to see Ponk there.

Ponk’s tone is icy, but undeniably there is still a tremor, however hard they try to bury it. “Sam.”

“You’re here,” Sam has the audacity to sound wanting.

“Yeah. I am. It’s a public street, is it not?” Ponk wishes it were only anger stirring in their chest.

“Right, yeah, of course, I guess I just…” Sam gives them a once over he has no right to. He clears his throat. “You… you look good.”

Ponk can’t resist a smile, raising an eyebrow. “Do I?” They haven’t forgotten, not really, but there is a brief, undeniable moment where they remember how good it felt to make Sam a little shy.

Sam takes a step forward, Ponk impulsively takes a step back, unbroken arm raised slightly. Whatever reply Sam had been about to make dies on his lips. He takes a step back as well.

Ponk hates that Sam could see that they’re still afraid. This is wrong. It can’t be like that anymore, they cannot make Sam blush and Sam cannot step closer and nothing can be as it once was. “You look a bit shit, Sam.”

They meant it with at least a hint of sympathy, however blunt the actual comment was, but Sam takes it to heart, jaw set, shoulders squared, as if he’s trying to make himself bigger. Sam has no need to make himself look bigger. Even in a cast, even injured, he physically towers over them. Ponk is not weak by any means, but they know exactly what kind of damage Sam can do.

“Yeah, I wonder why that is,” Sam says coldly.

That very question finally catches up to Ponk. “Wait, actually, what the fuck? Were you in a car accident or something?”

Sam scoffs and for a moment it’s like he’s going to step closer again, it’s his impulse, but he reconsiders out of some cruel version of courtesy towards them. He leans forward, though, words sharp and bitter.

“Are you really going to act like you don’t know?”

Ponk doesn’t pull away, frustration overtaking fear. “Know what, Sam? Go on, say what you’re going to say.”

“Really?” Sam scoffs. “Fine. Your little mob buddies? Is that ringing a bell? You know what, I knew you could fight dirty, Ponk, but really?” He’s scathing, the audacity to be self righteous toward them of all people. “Having three different crime rings break down my door and––and attack me?” He hisses.

“What the fuck are you going on about?!” Ponk snaps. “Who are you even talking about? I wasn’t working for a mob when you arrested me. Why would they––I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sam.” Briefly, Ponk thinks of Purpled all those nights ago, but he had promised he hadn’t killed Sam. Well, that part was true. Ponk continues with the truth. “I didn’t send anyone after you.”

“Right” Sam huffs, aloof on his crutches. “They said the same thing, but really. Sending one hit out on me wasn’t enough, but three? Do you expect me to believe all those people showed up to––to hurt me just because? I mean, I used to think lying was beneath you, but I guess that’s not true, is it?”

Ponk turns cold, an icy fury at every sacrifice they made for this man thrown back in their face. Ponk cannot believe that when they first saw Sam for a brief moment they thought he might apologize. “Maybe it’s because you’re not a good person, Sam.”

Sam doesn’t quite look surprised, more so curious. “You don’t think I’m a good person?”

Ponk doesn’t look him in the eye, staring past him to the river, to the streets the two of them have walked together for so many years. It’s never going to be like that again. Ponk wants to tell him they never meant for him to get hurt. They want to tell him that the doctors don’t think their arm is going to ever be quite the same. They want to ask him if he regrets it. They want to go home, properly home, with Sam beside them. Some part of them also undeniably wants Sam to drown in the river and know it was because of Ponk, for him to know it’s what he deserves. They don’t say any of it. “My opinions are biased.”

Before Sam can retort, Ponk turns and leaves him there. If they don’t look back, they can pretend Sam didn’t almost reach out to stop them. If they don’t look back, they can pretend they wouldn’t have let him.

When Ponk returns to Eret’s mansion, breathless and definitely not burying tears, the first thing they do is make a phone call.

“Purpled? It’s Ponk. I… I think I know what I want to do.”

In four days time, Sam will return home to an apartment covered in meticulously made copies of police records. Dozens of files which were never meant to leave the precinct are now piled on his kitchen counter. At that same moment, the station receives a call claiming that the Police Captain is being attacked again. When the squad cars arrive with an urgency few other calls would receive, it is to Sam staring in baffled confusion at the mountains of probable cause shoved into his lonely apartment. Sam almost can’t process what’s happening when men he had once supervised arrest him. They arrest him not because he had done something illegal, but because he’s done something illegal against the police. The way this picture has been so carefully painted makes it clear that Ponk wasn’t the rat. Ponk was surely a scapegoat, a civilian with no access to police files. Surely, if Sam had truly been loyal to the department, Ponk wouldn’t have known anything worth sharing. The real rat had to have been one of their own. Sam has no idea what to say in his own defense.

Things devolve from there. There is no interrogation, there is no opportunity for Sam’s old comrades to listen or offer understanding. They are all cold and unforgiving or they avoid him like the plague. People Sam had felt responsible for, who he had done his best to protect, shoving him into a holding cell and daring to call him a rat. It’s almost surreal. Sam already thought his whole world had fallen apart a month ago, and here the last shreds begin to burn.

Sam dodges criminal charges because those equate press coverage. Instead, there is a letter of termination. Sam’s replacement fully supports it, citing Sam’s criminal background before joining the force as clear evidence that he was never fit to be Captain. Sam would have preferred prison. He would have preferred a criminal trial instead of being forced to sit across from his own desk, the Chief of Police in his chair, and the man who had once been Sam’s right hand whispering in his ear.

“Mr. Warden here used to work for the Badlands, did you know that, Sir?” Dream doesn’t look at him as he shreds his reputation to ribbons. Sapnap’s face falls from where he stands to Dream’s right, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Dream,” Sam doesn’t know why he’s trying to garner his attention, what he’s hoping to achieve. Dream clearly has no intention of helping him. He can’t help but try. He’s spent days waiting for the chance to plead his case only to find it had already been decided for him. “You know this wasn’t me. You know that. You know I’m being set up for something, Dream––”

“Please calm yourself, Mr. Warden,” Dream raises a hand as if to placate his old boss handcuffed across the table. Mr. That title is as grating as nails on a chalkboard. Sam feels weak. “Consider yourself lucky you’re not being arrested. Former Police Officers don’t do well in prison, you know.”

Sam doesn’t know what to do now. No one here is going to help him. He thought Sapnap might have argued on his behalf, but despite his deigning to visit him in the hospital and being willing to chat, it seems for him too that things had inexplicably changed between them after Ponk’s arrest. Everyone else who might have gotten him out of this, well, he burned those bridges first. Not to say the Badlands had been any good to someone under arrest.

Sam is escorted from the station by those he had once trusted. Dream doesn’t bother seeing him out. Sapnap lingers just outside, unsure and oddly thoughtful.

“Sapnap, you know I didn’t––”

“I’ll call you a cab, Sam,” Sapnap hesitates. “I’m sorry about all this.”

Sam doesn’t reply. He watches him leave. Through the glass, he can see the station proceeding, business as usual, while Sam feels as though someone has died.

Sapnap knows he cannot get Sam out of this and he doesn’t plan to, but once the proceedings are done, the Chief of Police gone, he pulls his friend aside. “Dream, you know there’s no way Sam did this. After he was attacked, we searched his apartment, like, there wasn’t anything there––”

Dream cuts him off. “What were you and Sam talking about, huh? The other day? You could’ve given him those records, right?” Dream is almost calm, casual conversation as if every word isn’t a loaded bullet. Sapnap falls silent. Dream lowers his voice, a warning hushed and dangerous, “if we’re talking about associates of the Badlands, you of all people should watch your step, Officer Halo.”

Sapnap stares at him, stunned, waiting for some part of this to make sense, to reflect his best friend. It doesn’t. Dream does not become someone he recognizes. “Got it, Captain.”

#my writing #mafia au #WOOO I'M BACK BABY!!#finished my senior thesis!! :D #anyway. here's more misery for awesamdude #c!dream cw #c!sam #c!ponk #ponk

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