Tumgik
#and i asked her to do a screening for ocd and she never did and idk if she forgot or she just didn’t believe me/think it was a big enough
mx-misty-eyed · 2 years
Text
i am so confused
#don’t rb#so like. there’s definitely something wrong with my brain#or multiple things most likely#and i’m trying to figure out what specifically it is#but it’s hard bc i’m kinda hesitant to self diagnose#all for informed self diagnosis ofc but im just doubting myself/have an internalized/irrational fear that i’m faking everything#especially since my therapist keeps diminishing stuff that i tell her#and i asked her to do a screening for ocd and she never did and idk if she forgot or she just didn’t believe me/think it was a big enough#deal where it’s worth getting tested or whatever#and also with the self diagnosis a lot of the stuff that i’m wondering whether or not i have has overlapping symptoms with other stuff#so idk how to differentiate/figure out what it actually is#like i’m fairly sure i have ocd depression and adhd#and prob anxiety too#(apparently it’s not normal to have a set of words that you repeat over and over in your head to calm yourself down)#but also it’s possible some of the stuff i’m experiencing is a sign of bpd and/or bipolar (more likely bpd i think but it could be bipolar)#and also i’m thinking it might be possible i have osdd? either 1a or 1b i’m not really sure#like i feel like i have kinda different personalities for school and home and stuff like that#but idk if that’s just a normal thing where you act differently around different people#<- like obv that’s a thing a lot of ppl experience i think but idk if the extent to which i’m experiencing it would make it osdd#but also idk? it’s possible i have osdd-1b#idk how likely any of this is but#like idk how to describe it#but i think the description sounds mildly accurate at least#like i def don’t have amnesia#and idk#like it’s possible that it’s different system members but#i also don’t know if that’s a thing that’s up for debate?#like if it was then i feel like it would be more apparent#that there’s different system members and stuff#rest of the tags got fucked up check replies
20 notes · View notes
hargrove-mayfields · 9 months
Text
Disabled Billy and Steve Week
Day 5- New Diagnosis
My prompt: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in Billy
-•-•-•-
For what must be the tenth time in the last month, Heather is parked outside of the hospital, her baby girl in the backseat, but the passenger side empty, waiting for Billy to get back.
The doctors have been running tests and screenings at appointment after appointment. He’s been… struggling. Ever since Isabella was born, his mental health had plummeted. It was never perfect, but for the first time, Heather was genuinely afraid.
Watching her husband pick his scalp until it bled and turned his golden hair red, or wash his face until he got a rash because his freckles started bothering him, was terrifying.
The fear isn’t eased when Billy walks out with a prescription bag, and red eyes that make it clear he’s been crying.
“What did they say?” Heather asks, as soon as he opens the car door.
Billy takes his time answering. He seems like he’s in shock.
Heather would hold his hand, but he has to sanitize, take off his mask, then sanitize again. An obsession.
Somehow, Heather isn’t shocked when Billy finally mumbles, “It’s ocd.”
Honestly, she doesn’t know what to feel. She’s been researching, scrolling on a tablet for hours after Billy is asleep to see what professionals all around the world would diagnose her husband with. But none of that preparation had told her how to feel.
Some part of it is relief, to finally have answers and be able to help Billy manage his symptoms. Another little piece of her heart is scared for how Billy will be feeling through all of this.
She decides to let him tell her, “Is that a good thing? A bad thing? Talk to me, sugar cube.”
“I just need a minute Hetty. That’s all.” Billy tries to smile, but it’s more like a grimace. It hurts to see him like that, but Heather will give him his space.
Instead of bothering him more, she just checks on him every now and again, seeing him glance back at the baby using the mirror that points down at her rear-facing car seat literally every few seconds.
When they get back home, which isn’t far since they knew their array of medical issues would require them being close to a hospital, Billy takes the baby straight inside and lays on the couch with her, just closing her eyes and cuddling her as tight as he feels safe to cuddle her little body.
Heather gives him a kiss on the cheek, and goes to take her own meds, calling from the kitchen, “What are you feeling for dinner tonight, baby?”
Silence. She comes back in, and Billy is in tears. Their little girl is biting his shirt and dozing off, and Billy is trying not to shake too hard with each sob.
His red eyes lock onto her, his lower lip wobbling, “Am I a bad dad?”
“Biscuits for dinner it is.” Heather declares softly, deciding he needs one of his comfort foods at the moment. Additionally, she takes the baby in her arms and comforts Billy with her words, “And no. Sweetie, you’re the best dad in the world.”
It barely helps anything. Billy is spiraling, “But I’m the reason the baby room is so plain. It takes me three times as long as you to change a diaper and I can’t cook for my wife and my kid because I have panic attacks if the oven timer is the wrong number. I can’t clip my baby’s nails cause I might go too short, I can’t hold her when she’s hyper and moving too much- I can’t even fucking be trusted with myself, let alone her little life!”
After all that, Billy takes a shaky, tear-filled breath in, “This OCD shit sucks.”
“None of that means you’re bad though. Your way of doing things is particular, but baby, you’re still here, and you’re doing your best for our girl.” Heather soothes gently.
He scoffs at himself, wiping his eyes more aggressively than necessary, “That’s the bare minimum.”
“Some parents can’t do that. Your mother didn’t.” It probably stings, but it’s reality. One of Billy’s biggest fears when they got pregnant with Isabella was becoming like his parents, or worse. Heather needs him to know that’s not the case.
“Hetty-“ Billy’s face pinches up, like he doesn’t know whether to be hurt or not.
So Heather decides to offer a little bit more insight, and maybe lessen the blow of the brutal reality, “My mom didn’t either. She drugged herself out of her mind and missed my whole childhood. I don’t have any memories from before I was ten. But Bella’s gonna have so so many with you.”
It seems to work, with Billy even smiling as he looks at their little girl and takes it all in, “Do you think she’ll think I’m weird?”
“Honey bun, every kid thinks their parents are weird at some point. But I do know she’s going to think you’re the most loving father a little one could ask for.” Heather chuckles softly.
Now it’s her turn to feel a little bit of panic.
See, Heather has a secret, and seeing as Billy could use a little cheering up, she decides to let him in on it. She takes his hand in hers, and places it on her stomach, right above her scar, “Two little ones, actually.”
Instantly she sees the difference in Billy, and the way his eyes light up. He sits bolt upright and hugs her tight, crying now but for a much better reason.
“Holy shit, baby! How long have you known?”
“Four days. But I’m six weeks along.” Heather enthuses, combing her fingers lovingly through his long curls.
Billy looks like he’s calculating, then he gasps, “Six weeks- Hetty, that’s almost a quarter of the way!”
“I know! Hopefully it’ll fly by like the last one.” Heather laughs softly in pure joy.
Her pregnancy with Isabella was relatively easy, and the number of seizures she had even stayed consistent since her epilepsy medications were safe for her and baby. The worst thing was the morning sickness, but it passed early on enough that she’d somehow enjoyed pregnancy.
Billy had been a wreck, between his emotions and his fears. It took days of promising that she’d be okay when she was nine months in and he’d been scheduled for a work trip before he felt safe to leave her by herself.
At the moment, he doesn’t seem as panicked as he’d been before, but he does fret- “No, no, no, no- I need time. I need to work on stuff.”
Heather cups his face sympathetically, “Bubs, I already told you-“
But Billy interrupts to tell her she’d misinterpreted, “Not personal stuff, lover. I mean I literally need to work on fixing this shitty house up if we’re gonna have two littles running around.”
“First, we need dinner.” Heather happily changes subjects then, but sternly puts her hands on her hips when Billy gets up to help, “Don’t even think about it. This baby bun is literally the size of a grain of rice, I don’t need you butlering yet.”
“Please let me. I feel like I’m buzzing inside.” Billy begs, pouting his bottom lip out in that way that’s always made Heather feel soft.
She rolls her eyes playfully, and hands him a snoozy Bella back, the little one year old reaching for her daddy too, “Put baby girl in her high chair. I could use your help washing fruit.”
“Fruit and.. biscuits?” Billy looks absolutely perplexed by her dinner choices.
Oh how Heather loves this boy.
“No, silly. I’m making you biscuits. Bella can’t eat stuff like that yet though.”
A flush strikes Billy’s cheeks a deep red color- Heather's favorite since she met her soulmate in a pair of swim trunks the same shade- “How the hell do you remember all that stuff?”
Heather just shrugs, though her point is that it’s not as easy as it seems, “Because I don’t have two hundred other things to remember in a day. That and I read a lot of books when I was bedridden. C-sections give lots of time for learning.”
She also goes out into the kitchen, fishing ingredients out of the pantry and measuring utensils out of the cabinets. Billy steps behind her, his hand on the small of her back so she doesn’t bump into him, to reach into the fridge for some strawberries, blueberries, and grapes.
“I’d probably lose my marbles trying to keep track of what’s real and what’s pseudoscience garbage.“ Billy huffs, while portioning out fruit to clean.
It makes Heather recall a time when they were about to be parents and she couldn’t, “Right? Remember when I thought it was bad to sleep on my side when I was pregnant?”
“Changed your tune real quick when the back pain hit.” Billy laughs lightheartedly.
Heather takes the opportunity to reiterate what she’d promised Billy before, “Exactly. Nobody gets everything perfect on the first try.”
She looks over, and Billy is just staring at her lovingly. That was exactly what he needed to hear. Heather smiles back, and blows a kiss, a little puff of dough flour coming from her hands.
Billy acts like he catches the kiss, and puts it to his heart. Nothing beats flirting like dumb, lovestruck teenagers.
Until a piercing wail cuts it off.
Bella over in her high chair starts crying her little head off, Heather guesses because she missed a nap earlier while they were waiting for Billy to finish his appointment.
That sound to them as new parents is instant panic, all the time, and Heather isn’t sure when that feeling will end. Until it does, she knows it’s been hitting Billy harder, and decides to let him take care of it, in the form of an offer, “You wanna get her, bubs?”
Just like she predicted, he’s already drying his hands on the apron not around his own waist, but on Heathers, and running to grab the baby, “Already on it.”
Heather just smiles after him, proud and fond all at the same time. Throw any new diagnosis their way, and they can handle it. Just Billy, her and Isabella, and their little bean on the way. An unbreakable family.
~~~~~
Interested in helping the community? Today’s organization that I’ve chosen to highlight is the Peace of Mind foundation.
POM is part of the international OCD foundation, which means they are recognized as being on of the most beneficial sites for individuals with obsessive compulsive disorder.
On the site, folks can access information about their disability, seek positive affirmations, reach out to care teams, and provide education to family members or carers to make sure the individual is getting the best treatment.
While the site uses language that I personally see as demeaning, I still thought it was important to highlight what they do for the community. I also couldn’t find a single charity or organization that didn’t use the word “suffering” to describe living with our disorder. I personally don’t see my OCD that way, but as I said, I wanted to show that there is a foundation out there trying to support us.
The site accepts donations, saying they will go towards families, therapists, support teams, and of course individuals with OCD. If you’re interested in reading more on your own and forming your own view, click here and the link will take you to the site!
25 notes · View notes
urlocallesbiab · 1 year
Text
ok the initial post for brotzly fake couple's therapy au has already gotten way too long, so i take this as a sign i should start posting things separately and establish a new navigation tag
so, either way, a lil background on the characters
todd: exactly the same shit as canon, just imagine that instead of the seer-of-universal-truths syndrome there's some regular non-magical neurological disease running in the brotzman family.
farah: mostly similar to canon, just a bit toned down. she's not exactly an one-woman army, but she is freakishly physically fit, combat-ready, and proficient with common types of firearms — significantly more than you would expect any random person to be; she had always wanted to become a part of the police force like her brothers and father, but never passed the screenings due to debilitating anxiety, ocd and autism (never tried to join the fbi or the military tho; both her skills and her family expectations aren't That high).
her father had gotten terminally sick when she was a teen, and that significantly cut their income and added to their spendings, usa healthcare system be damned; old family friend, successful enterpreneur patrick spring, had stepped in to support them both financially and morally. farah ended up being halfway raised by him, always hanging out at his house and playing with lydia; out of all her family, save for her father, farah was the closest to patrick.
some time before the main timeline events, maybe half a year or a year ago, farah, patrick and lydia were having a nice family outing — up until patrick had been shot to death in broad daylight. his history of rising to success hadn’t been exactly pretty, you see, and the organized crime eventually took what was due. farah still blames herself for letting that happen despite her training and her worrying habit of never leaving the house without her gun; but if you asked her, really asked her how would she go about preventing that, she wouldn't be able to give you a good answer — it's just that one second he was alive, and the next he was not.
lydia, as both the key witness and the fortune's inheritor, had been taken into the witness protection program; farah hasn't heard from her since. she misses her like crazy, possible even more than patrick. therapy was meant to help her cope with the ruinous ptsd from those events, and she's been slowly, slowly making progress. that day she was having an especially Bad One — after which she and dirk got shit-faced — was soon after her father's death.
dirk: he grew up in the foster care system, and as a pre-teen was adopted by a kind and soft-bellied, if a little strict, ex-military man on a good pension, scott riggins. dirk had always been a bright kid, fascinated by complex mathematics (oh, the patterns! the beauty chaos and order! the language of the universe!) and some strains of physics (especially quantum studies; it all started with an article on shrodinger's cat and went downhill from there), quickly picking up on underlying logic within numbers (way quicker than his little undiagnosed autistic brain picked up on most social cues); teachers always promised him a bright future, even with the chronic lack of resources. scott had made sure dirk would get access to the best education possible, be taught by best tutors available, enroll into the best school imaginable; he gave dirk everything, and all the boy had to do is put in some effort. and he tried, oh god did he try; but he didn't do it hard enough. the new schoolwork load was multiple times bigger and harder than the worst he had ever experienced before, and he would often grow exhausted, distracted, unfocused and loose-minded (the adhd never got diagnosed either). some days a new and curious configuration would catch his attention and he would crack down on it with fervor, but some days he would just sit there and chew on the same three problems for hours on end to no avail. on those bright days scott saw his potential, his true and exciting and wonderful potential, and wanted the kid to live up to it; on the brain-foggy days, when he failed to do so, scott grew dissappointed. and whenever he felt disappointed, dirk felt it tenfolds on his skin. scott wasn't violent, godforbid, he's not a monster — just a little strict: it's just that he frowned, and tutted, and shook his head, and told dirk off, and didn't kiss him, and said things that dirk deserved to hear no matter how it felt, and took his books away (if there was anything the kid loved as much as math, it was thrilling detective stories, and sci-fi, ans fantasy, preferably all at once, read in one sitting) so that he wouldn't get distracted, and sometimes wouldn't call dirk down for dinner until he was done with the homework.
it hurt terribly to have the only person who'd ever cared about dirk, who had chosen him out of everyone else, who had chosen him and stuck by him, the only person in the world who loved him, be upset with dirk. for the longest time, dirk was convinced that he simply was lazy, and awful, and ungrateful, and hopeless, and the worst person to ever live, with how he let his father down time after time. but over the years, his self-hatred got so large he couldn't carry it anymore, and it spilled onto the mental image of scott, just so that he could breathe again; over the years, he grew bitter and disillusioned. as a young adult, he still couldn't tell if scott's demands and ambitions were fueled by simple materialistic hopes of fame and monetary grants, or a vain desire for glory, or some weird roundabout way of achieving personal fulfillment, but he knew for sure: scott riggins wanted himself a pet boy genius, not a son.
when the time came to attend college, dirk picked cambridge over harward, mostly because he would take any excuse to get an ocean away from scott. and he passed the exams — with flying colors! he was, after all, exceptionally smart. the teachers were delighted to have him; three months later he got booted because he missed half the classes and didn’t do any homework: drunk on the newfound freedom, stressed out by a trans-atlantic move, and lacking the only accountability system (however flawed) he'd ever had. he didn't tell scott, of course — he wasn't ready to go back home, he would do anything to avoid going there. so he took the college-student-allowance his foster father kept sending him, none the wiser, and set out backpacking across britain and then the rest of europe. soon it turned out that travelling cross-country is slightly more costly than living at the dorms, and there were only so many plausible excuses he could use to cajole more money out of scott, and coming clean about his strategical-omissal-of-crucial-information-that-wasn't-tecnhically-outright-lying was out of the question, so dirk had to cut some costs: skip a meal here, sleep on a train station bench there, get chased out by foreign policemen once or twice, a few times of staying overnight at some shady moldy place with some shady people whose language he didn't speak too well — nothing any other travelling young person hasn't seen, truly. he was coping alright. eventually scott caught wind anyway, and dirk, not that dirty and scrawny, had been forcibly dragged home. from there it's been a steep decline in the relationship: more harsh demands and more desperate pleading, more affection followed by more coldness, threats and promises from scott, and a few failed attempts at coninued education, a few move-outs followed by a few move-back-ins, plus a few ultimately abandoned career choices from dirk, who never seemed to grow out of whatever it was that was wrong with him, even as a decade slowly passed and gave way to another one.
when todd meets dirk for the first time and asks the inevitable "so what do you do for a living?", dirk introduces himself as a writer, which, combined with his rather frivolous spending habits and impressive disposable income, leads todd to assume that dirk must be some literary genius, top-nyt-bestseller, author-of-future-classics madly successful type of guy — but in reality, he sits on his arse and writes experimental-storytelling-style sci-fi/fantasy/whodunnit fusions that no agency interested in commercial success wants to look at, he's been published only once by a tiny indie house that paid him jack shit and a penny in royalties, and half his money still comes from scott. that financial dependence is the main reason dirk's in the us at the moment — he's been pulled from his latest bout of doing volunteer work for a queer nonprofit in eastern europe by the threat of cutting his whole goddamn allowance off. as a compromise, he returned to the country but not to the city, claiming that he needed fresh scenery to inspire his creativity and maybe actually write a profitable book for once; really, he just hadn't been mentally ready yet to be in the same town as scott so soon. so, settle, washington it is, why the hell not.
by the way, "dirk gently" is his pen name — legally, he's still dirk riggins. also, in the skype calls he's sometimes talked into having, dirk still calls him "father", but behind his back it's been "scott" for almost two decades now: at some point growing up he felt the need to put some mental space between himself and that man in order to stay sane.
after his fateful Big Talk with todd, where dirk admitted the less pleasant parts of his childhood and youth in most detail he had ever did in his whole life, todd convinces him to start looking for a better job to support himself, change his legal name, and someday cut riggins off for good. also get some therapy, for fuck's sake, god.
12 notes · View notes
mental-health-advice · 3 months
Note
Hi It could be my ocd and my ocd hoarding mental ritual or just i can’t remember I feel like it’s it’s both but idk but my auntie leaves my 2 yr old cousin w bad people including her pedophile dad in Las Vegas she used to live with them but not anymore I’m not sure if she recently visited them sometimes she still goes out there and leave her baby there or they both stay over there idk if recently but I worry for the baby and if she’s around other bad people and if he touched her I have called cps but it never works out I believe I called three times my ocd makes me forget things but from what I can remember from my ocd memory ritual or I just can’t remember idk that I did call maybe in March , April , may, June just ended so I maybe didn’t call that month so I’m just gonna say what I think I remember it could be all fake memory idk I called cps hotline at night I told them all abt the situation and concerns
and if they can check in on her I think or welfare check and they asked the location I said I don’t have one and they’re maybe in LA and they couldn’t because they needed an address but gave me an LA cps number and to call them when I do get an address I think because they were Orange County cps hotline not LA but my ocd or me is making me feel like I’m a bad person if I don’t call again to make sure even though I still have no address but I know they live in Rancho Cucamonga for sure or mostly now but my ocd is making me question if they really do and I don’t want to call again and if they couldn’t do it before I don’t think they can now cuz I still don’t have a address but I can’t remember due to my ocd or memory idk but if I haven’t called cps for a lil bit then maybe it’s because my memory before I forgot and randomly remembered and started overthinking about today cuz I check up on her on her moms Instagram . maybe well most definitely I would have been called again if I knew I could help her right now so maybe my memory is correct but my ocd memory ritual makes me forget seconds later so I tend to write , screenshot , record things down and I go over it about 20 times repeating it over n over sometimes even more I tend to forget second later I didn’t screenshot or write notes the call that I think I did and gave details abt what do I do I really don’t want to call but what if I’m wrong and I want her to be safe I tried calling tonight but hotline had me on wait and my sister came so I hung up and I don’t feel like secretly calling in the bathroom or closet
Hey there,
It must be really frustrating for you to not be able to always remember things that you do and so having to take notes or take screen shots of things to help to prompt your memory.
I think that it’s really great that you care so much about your 2-year-old cousin, and especially for if they are not safe with your aunty at all or situations that they may be put in. A 2-year-old cannot fend for themselves like you or I could and so it’s so important that we speak for the younger people and help to keep them safe if we can. Unfortunately, when calling CPS, you do need an address to give them so they are able to conduct an investigation or even do a welfare check. I know that you mentioned that you don’t have their address (which is OK, it’s not uncommon to not know everyone’s address – even if they are family!) but is there a way you could possibly find out? Maybe looking up their surname in the phone book or even trying to look it up on the internet? I know that it won’t be an easy job but it may be an idea on how you could find it.
I also want to let you know and remind you that if you are not able to find their address – it does not make you a bad or horrible person. The simple fact that you care so much about your cousin speaks volumes and unfortunately, there is sometimes only so much that we can do to help. So please don’t be hard on yourself if in the end you can’t do anything, the main thing is that you did try your best!
I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!
I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going OK!
Take care,
Lauren
1 note · View note
dzpenumbra · 1 year
Text
2/7/23
I'm a bit upset I didn't start this earlier, I could've kept the bedtime momentum from yesterday. And I have a lot to cover today. I'll try to be brief.
The doctors appointment was... confusing. And overwhelming. As I have said several times, the primary reason I went was to get linked up with a GP so I can set up an ADHD screening, so I can get formally diagnosed and start exploring options for management. My primary focus in mental health care lately has been depression and PTSD, mostly PTSD, and I have been very interested in seeing if I can address underlying executive function issues, which PTSD obviously makes much worse, and is a huge source of depression and anxiety. And, with me constantly suffering impostor syndrome, I have no idea whether the problems I have with routine functioning are a byproduct of my PTSD (developmental, cognitive, nurture), a neurodiversity thing (genetics, nature) or a combination of both. By either confirming or denying with certainty a genetic, biological component, I can really set my focus entirely on what I need to work on. Like my therapist was saying, if I have an underlying neurodiversity issue, it's like fighting the same fight with one hand tied behind my back, and meds could potentially open a lot of doors for that.
So... I show up pretty much on time. I chug a Monster on the way there. It was one of those mocha ones, those just disappear for some reason, probably because they're not carbonated. I was running on 6 hours of sleep. I get in and the waiting room is fucking empty. 2 month waiting list and the place is completely empty. And zero wait time. I walk in, the nurse does my blood pressure and comments on how it's highly elevated. Like... she seemed concerned, and offered to double check it later on in the appointment, but never did. Took pulse, that was fine. Then went right into like... some basic history stuff. And she started asking about mental health stuff, and that's why I was there so... I started talking. I started struggling to think, getting really foggy and overwhelmed. I said PTSD, but then started floundering a bit and stumbling on my words. My thoughts were swirling way too fast, I was bouncing between "what are my current diagnoses" and then the dozens of diagnoses I have gotten in the past and shit. I mean, we're talking over 10 years of history here. "Is OCD still a thing?" "Is panic disorder still a thing?" "Would I say agoraphobia?" "Do I even have any formal diagnoses anymore?" "Who was the last person to actually diagnose me?" And the years of shit just started flooding back.
I apologized to the nurse... of course... then just said like... "depression and anxiety stuff." Or something. I don't know. I choked, I guess. I felt the time pressure. I remember stressing that my therapist sent me to them to get screened for ADHD. I swear, I've told them that like 5 times now.
After a minute, the doctor comes in. She seems nice, a more bohemian type, which meshes well with me. She asked me what I do. Seriously, first question from people every fucking time. "What's your name? What do you do?" And I immediately convince myself, "I'm not actually an artist, I'm actually a fraud. I'm just a lazy shit who sits around playing video games and watching YouTube all day, pretending to be an artist. I mean, what's the most recent art piece I've even made?" So I say, "I'm an artist." And the asshole in my head goes "god, you better hope she believes that." And she asks, "oh really? What's your medium?" And I... stumble. Again. Like... I immediately went to "ink". But like... I really haven't done that many ink pieces. My hoodie was the latest ink piece. Hey, guess what? I was wearing the hoodie too... I could've just fucking shown her. But... not in my freaking out brain, I couldn't. So I just sorta fumbled around "ink and pencil, I guess... but I'm exploring other mediums." And she starts sharing how she likes working with clothing and sewing and stuff like that. It was a nice point of commonality, I appreciated that. I just... was more preoccupied by the tornado in my head.
I have no idea how visible that shit is to others. I've been told it's barely visible at all. To me, it's so damn obvious.
I can't go step by step on this, I'm falling asleep, I'm gonna nutshell. She sent me back to my therapist to see if he'll do the screening. Despite him being the one who sent me to her. Her reasoning is sound, she wanted to make sure there wasn't any kind of misdiagnosis or anything, she thought it would be better if the person who screened me actually had a history with me, actually knew me. And I think she has a good point. I have some options to explore there.
She walked me through how hellish the controlled substance regulations are through her. And I mean... it's fucking bad. Like monthly visits, piss tests that can't even show positive for THC, shit like that. It upset me. A lot. I don't like being treated like an addict or a drug dealer. At all. Like, if they were trying to scare me off of even trying stimulant ADHD meds, they fucking succeeded. They scared the Christ out of me. And set off a bunch of underlying trauma shit that's been haunting me in waves all day since.
Like... I move heaven and earth (in the framework of my world), I show up for an appointment after inverting my sleep schedule, 3 days after putting my beloved cat down, I'm actively grieving, I'm a shut-in who rarely leaves my house, I show up on-time, I wait the full 2 months for the appointment. I show up on 6 hours of sleep, I cooperate fully and respectfully, I'm honest and forthright. I have never had a voluntary addiction other than tobacco, which was much more habitual than chemical. I don't have recreational drugs that I could do. I can't drink or I get insane heartburn or start feeling sick well before I get drunk. I can't smoke or else there's a 70% chance I'll freak out and have a waking nightmare. I refused to pursue benzos again because of how I had 3 different brushes with death trying to fucking detox off of them, because I don't have a healthy support network, and even taking one out of the context of regular prescribed usage just brings me right back there. And yet, if a trace of anything shows up in my piss? I get treated like a drug dealer. I get treated like a scam artist swindler who lied their way into a doctor's office to get a prescription for low-grade amphetamines to sell them to college students so they can giggle for a few hours. Or just a fucking drug addict myself. Like all of my efforts to be responsible, mindful and intentional with substance usage was really for nothing, because the system is going to assume that I'm a criminal.
You can probably tell how upset I am about this. This is a fraction of it. This narrative was so powerful this morning that I had to stop doing yoga, first time in the month and a week I've been doing it every day. I called my mom while lying down on the yoga mat because I had to just get the fucking thoughts out. It combined with a few other triggers and just led to utter catastrophe by the end of the night.
Back to the appointment. The doctor wrote me a bulletpoint list of highlights on the back of a business card. She deserves a medal for this, because by the time I got to the door leaving the health center, I had completely forgotten everything we went over. Like fucking Memento or some shit. But she went over some non-stimulant drug options that she can help me out with, even without a diagnosis, I guess? I found that odd, but whatever. I'm going to look into them tomorrow. So yeah, I have a plan. But at a price.
Being in the doctors office (with a lot of medical trauma), feeling like people are being suspicious or unfair to me, and having to explain the story of my life... which, today, was just... utterly depressing... having to explain why I was in a state-funded mental health institution, voluntarily... Like... the context on these things makes a really big difference, and I only had 15 minutes total with this woman. I didn't even get to talk about any of my physical issues at all, like it didn't even have time to cross my mind. All those trauma sparks just set off a powderkeg. The yoga interruption was the shot across the bow. I sank into recording music for the rest of the day. It went really fucking well. I got bass set up, the bass lines were really goddamn hard but I recorded something passable. I even recorded some vocals, which I basically sang at a slightly pushed falsetto near-whisper. I don't really like them, I really wish I would just go for it and project them, but like... neighbors right on the other side of the wall... might be more of a mid-day thing, when people normally aren't home. But the song is mostly done, sans screams.
After that... my mom called. And... I got set off. I don't even know what did it, honestly. I really don't. It could've been anything. But my fight/flight/freeze/fawn today was... freeze. Big-time freeze. For a while. And my mom kept pressuring me to explain why I was upset, so she could help, which just made things worse. And, I completely get why she would do that. It makes perfect sense from that side of the glass, especially when you don't really know it's a trauma response. Maybe it just looks like I'm a bit grumpy or moody or something. Maybe I mask that shit way too well. After finally being able to tear myself free of that quagmire enough to communicate, I was able to tell her about what was going on there. How, in my experience, I got set off by something deeply upsetting that brought back very painful memories. And she was pressuring me, obligating me, to go back and look at it again, and describe it to her in more detail, relive it again... or else I will not get support. Because otherwise, she won't know how to help me with the situation. It's a very common problem we have. And I think I did a good job articulating it today, from my perspective.
It sucks when people are doing the right thing, just in the wrong context. And trauma can be really confusing like that. Like, what I needed was just... help with the emotions and memories I was dealing with. The Now. The details are not essential, honestly. We can work our way up to that, if needed. Right now, I don't feel safe. Right now, I'm scared. Right now, I feel aftershocks of mistreatment and abuse. So what I need right now are demonstrations of safety, comfort and caring. Then, when the alarm bells stop chiming in my brain, we can explore more practical solutions if need be.
My family just... is completely emotionally illiterate. Even me, with all my insanely overwhelming emotions... even I am not very fluent. Even I struggled to identify the emotion I was flooded with today. But these people just flat-out have no idea how to deal with an emotional problem. It's just 100% practical. "How do I make your problem go away for you so you stop hurting?" "How do I solve your problem for you so you're not upset anymore?" It looks helpful, it feels helpful in intent, but it completely bypasses emotions. I suspect by design. And when you're dealing with an emotional problem? It's doomed to cause issues.
So yeah, I just ordered delivery Applebee's again and collapsed in the comfy chair and ate tons of mediocre food and nodded off to a livestream and now it's like 1:30... so I'm going to go to bed.
I need a break.
0 notes
assassinmidnight · 3 years
Text
Their resident Genius
The BAU is called in by Scotland Yard to help with a case, Spencer becomes intrigued when he hears that they have their own resident genius.
_________
Spencer Reid x Holmes!Autistic!Female!reader
_________
Honestly Spencer was unsure why Scotland Yard had called them in, he always knew that their team was one of the best but the fact that Scotland Yard had called them in had surprised the Genius a lot.
--
“Okay team, we’ve been called in by the English. We’re gonna be gone for a bit so pack accordingly. Airstrip in 30,” Hotch called. “Wait, the English? You mean Scotland Yard? Scotland Yard called US in, why?” 
“Really Reid, I thought you’d be the most excited to meet their team. Apparently they have their own resident genius,” The reply from Hotch had Morgan smiling “Resident Genius? Is he smarter than Reid? Man I have to see this,”
--
During the entire flight Spencer had been thinking of the so-called Genius. He didn’t really believe in genius as a word but he had become intrigued. He wondered if Hotch was honest, if he was correctly informed. Spencer had for a long time kept track of Scotland Yard but he’d only heard of Sherlock Holmes being their resident genius, but he was a consultant not an official agent. Did he decide to join them officially?
“Reid stop, I can hear the cogs turning in your head and it’s keeping me from my sleep,” 
“Shut up Morgan,” Morgan looked over “Reid I get it, you’re stressed about meeting new people and maybe even someone who can go against you in brainiac power. But dude chill, it’s gonna be all good, chances are they aren’t even close to your level.” 
Spencer took that into consideration, it’s true most people who are called geniuses aren’t close to his level.”
_
“Okay team we’re gonna meet the people from Scotland Yard. Behave,” Hotch sounded more serious than he looked.
Spencer was surprised when they entered the building, it was nothing like their own. This place was not messy or filled with people stuffing the rooms, it was all quiet and strict as if it was a classroom. “This way to the office,” Hotch pointed towards a room and they all headed there.
“Ah Agent Hotch, thank you for coming,” The man smiled and shook hands with Hotch, “This must be your famous team of profilers,” The man quickly looked at his watch before looking up again. “We should wait with the introductions, one of ours is running late,” Morgan smirked “Your resident genius?” The man looked up surprised before nodding, he looked like he was about to answer but got interrupted by the door swinging open.
“I’m sorry for being late, you know how my brother is,” A woman came in, a bit out of breath. She looked around 21 and had (y/h) colored hair, quite long too.
She seemed to realize the company they had and went beet red, Spencer thought she looked pretty cute. 
She turned back to the man, “So this is the BAU team lestrade? The best profilers,” 
“Wait you’re Greg Lestrade? You worked with Sherlock and Dr. Watson,” The two brits looked over at Reid, the girl cocked her head to the side before smiling. “Dr. Reid I presume. I’ve read a lot about you, three PhDs and working for the FBI at 24, impressive,” now Reid turned red earning a laugh from Morgan. “You did your homework,” The woman looked at Morgan, “Yes I did, I like knowing who come here, Agent Morgan.” 
“Y/n behave. I know you prefer working alone but no need to be rude, you are better than your brothers aren't you?” The girl named Y/n sighed and nodded. “Good, introduce us to the UnSub.”
__
Throughout the entire briefing Spencer had been staring at Y/N, he couldn’t figure out how such a young woman was part of Scotland Yard. He tried to profile her but all he could decipher from her movements, which were many. She fidgeted a lot, tended to stare at the wall and kept her arms crossed over her chest. She was distracted, bored and introverted. That profile didn’t fit someone in this field. 
“Yes Y/N?” Hotch's voice brought Spencer from his thoughts.
“Dr. Reid, why are you staring at me so much? Is it really that hard to profile me?” Her voice was quite gleeful. She was proud, she had an advantage and she knew that. “Mm, yes sorry, I was profiling you but it wasn’t hard. You are clearly bored by this, unfocused throughout the entire briefing and you are closed off. These are not common attributes in Agents, that’s why I was staring,” He felt pretty proud of himself until “You didn’t introduce me Detective?” “No, I thought it best to keep the introductions til we're all here. But it seems like you know them well enough which I expected but you should probably introduce yourself,” Lestrade smiled and Y/N nodded. “My name is Y/N Holmes, little sister of both Mycroft and Sherlock. I am the one who usually works alone in my cave but apparently I was needed for this case. And no Dr. Reid I was not bored or unfocused, quite the opposite actually. I was just in my mind palace,”
“You’re the sister of Sherlock? Wait you’re the resident Genius,” Y/N laughed at Morgan’s reaction. Once again she cocked her head to the side, smiling. “How many PhDs?” She turned to Reid, “None, school bores me. Also resident genius isn’t what I would call myself, creative genius with hypersensitivity. All the Holmes boys got none of the emotion so I got all of it,” Reid nodded. “Well now that we’ve been introduced to the most interesting thing in England, how about we get started.”
__
“You still thinking about Miss smartypants, Pretty boy?” Reid tossed a pillow at Derek, but he did nod. “There is something about her, she wasn’t looking at me but knew that I was watching her. She assumed Lestrade had introduced her to us but was happy when she got to do it herself and she pointed out that she is more creative and sensitive than her brothers who are known sociopaths. I can’t understand her brain, or her profile,” Morgan stared at Reid before laughing “Dude it sound like you have a crush on Miss Holmes, well if she is as smart as they say your kids will definitely be something out of this world,” Morgan kept on laughing even when Spencer turned around on his bed.
__
“Welcome to my cave, don’t touch anything without asking.” Y/N was stern, her look was cold as well Spence nodded. “So um, why am I working here instead of in the field?” he asked, she looked at him annoyed before turning to her screen. “Because your boss thought it would be best to keep the two geniuses in the same room.”
The two kept working, Reid was surprised at all the tea Y/N was drinking and how she compulsively played with her bracelets whenever she was thinking. OCD, that did fit but something still felt off. “Just ask, get it out of the way before you drive me absolutely nuts” she looked at him expectantly. Spencer gulped before asking the question “Why can’t I profile you? I know it’s nothing on my end so it must be something on yours,” She shook her head and smiled, looking back at her screen. Spencer sighed thinking she wasn’t going to answer. 
“I am autistic with traces of OCD and dyslexia, that’s why you can’t profile me. I don’t fit the general profile for autistics. I have a deep emotional understanding but I lack logical intelligence that is usually paired with the diagnosis. My OCD traces are caused by my autism and the compulsive behaviors are mainly caused by anxiety. I suffered deep trauma in my childhood like both my brothers but unlike them I never emotionally distanced myself, this is why you can’t profile me Reid, I don’t fit the general profiles just like you,”He was surprised at her answer but considering what she just said he really shouldn’t have. 
“Wow, that’s- that’s a lot. Wait, you profiled me?” He was genuinely surprised, she laughed at him, breaking her cold act. “No I didn’t, but most intelligent people are the same,” he nodded before laughing with her.
__
“So thanks to the BAU and our own Agents we’ve managed to catch this killer and he will soon be behind bars,” JJ announced on the news. The team were currently at Lestrades house having a drink. Reid kept looking over to Y/N, ever since they’d solved the case she’d been distant towards him, it hurt for some reason. He thought they were getting along, especially after they’d started to talk about Dr. WHO, guess not. 
“Something wrong, Reid?” He turned and saw that the voice belonged to Lestrade, he nodded. “In my experience with the Holmes siblings, they rarely act like this unless it’s something that will actually impact them. You should talk to her, as much as she detests it she is like her brothers and when angry instead of being consumed by emotions like them she turns them off and goes all logical. Easy to have a conversation with if you watch your words,” When Spencer didn’t move Lestrade pushed him slightly making him go over to Y/N.
“Why are you ignoring me?” She turned to him, cup of tea in her hand, she sighed then gave him a strained smile. “Reid, go back to your team,” “Not until you tell me why you’ve been ignoring me?” She gave him a cold look before sighing again. “I have been ignoring you because I like you, Reid. You are going back to America so I am simply distancing myself to get used to not having you around any more. It’s all logical,” 
“You like me?” he was genuinely surprised, he found Y/N cute and even had a bit of a crush on her, something he’d never admit to Morgan but he never thought she liked him back.
“Of course I like you. You are smart and cute and have these small quirks about you. You are funny and a geek and get almost every single of my pop culture references,” Reid just looked at her with fond eyes, she liked him back and was now rambling on about why. It was cute, really cute. He pressed his lips against hers, successfully muffling her rambles. She seemed surprised at first but soon reprocrated the kiss.
“WHO IS THAT GUY KISSING MY BABY SISTER!” The two geniuses broke apart, red and turned to the voice. Seems like Sherlock Holmes had invited himself in and based on the look in his eyes said one thing, the high functioning sociopath was not happy with Reid kissing his sister.
695 notes · View notes
basiccortez · 2 years
Text
Forgotten - DRW
Tumblr media
note: back to our regularly scheduled programming:)
from this: request
You had always thought your mind was a scary place. An unorganized but organized control center, where lost thoughts and ideas go to die. Every idea you had, it had a place to go. Everything you did, had a certain methodical movement to it. The OCD that plagued you, made you need to have everything in control. You had always struggled with trying to keep complete organization, breaking down when the slightest thing was out of order. Eventually, you found something that worked for you, and made others question it. You did your best to keep your control center working without a flaw. There were long days and nights that you would sleep, eat or take a break, trying to power through to finish the tasks at hand. There were other days, were your mental control center was on a total meltdown. Everything shut down, nothing would work, files would be lost.
The whole day you felt off, fighting with yourself to get tasks done. You started your morning like normal, waking up to shower, and make breakfast and coffee for you and Danny both. Daniel Wagner, your one constant in your ever changing mind. He had always loved the way your mind worked. He always said you had the mind of an artist, the creativity flowing out of you. He had helped you try and wrangle in your daily tasks, setting up small reminders, making a monthly calendar to put on the fridge, and daily to-do lists. Words could not express how thankful you were for him, and how he never yelled or blamed you for being late to something, or forgetting to do something. Once breakfast was done, Danny had woken up with a cherry smile on his face, one that wasn’t uncommon, but for some reason today, he was extra happy.
“Good morning, love,” Danny said, placing a kiss on your lips.
“Morning, baby,” You answered back, “What’s got you so happy at 8:30 in the morning,”
“I can’t be happy this early in the morning?” Danny smiled, “I gotta run, I got a really busy day today,” He said, grabbing the bagel and coffee you had prepared for him, “I’ll see you later, okay,”
You nodded and kissed him goodbye. You sighed, running a hand down your face. You closed your eyes, trying to think through your usual Thursday tasks, but for some reason, couldn’t keep them in a coherent train of thought. You drank down the rest of your coffee and decided to get a jump start on work. You tried to work, you really did, but you stared at your computer screen for an hour, not really sure what you were supposed to do. The mental block that had locked down your brain, was making you want to scream. It had taken you over two hours to write a half assed 2 paragraph email to your boss, asking for the rest of the day off, to clear your mind. You went and sat in your meditation room, something Danny had helped you create. You sat on the floor, listening to the soothing sounds of Josh’s guided mediation, tears silently rolling down your face. Utter exhaustion was starting to creep in, as your mind was coming down from it’s hyper overdriven state. You curled up on the hardwood floor of the meditation room, the sounds of your ragged breathing echoing off the floor, as you tried your best to clear your mind.
--------------------------
Danny had probably checked his watch for the 10 thousandth time that hour. He searched the small venue that the record label had rented out for him to accept the award for drummer of the year. The rest of the guys were there, and his parents were called in via FaceTime. He kept pushing back as much as he could, knowing that you were probably just running late, but the execs had had enough of waiting.
“Danny, come on, we gotta do this,” One of the producers said. Danny looked over at Sam, who shrugged.
“I-I don’t know man. Have you talked to her?”
“I texted her at lunch,” Danny said, looking through is phone, “I know she wouldn’t have forgotten.” Danny looked back over at the execs with a sad look and then at his friend.
“Go, go accept your award, okay, an-and I’ll go call her-“
“Don’t,” Danny said, taking a deep breath, “It’s fine. Let’s get this done.”
Danny didn’t ever show his emotions, usually being the calm one of the group, but Sam could see the complete hurt on his face as he stepped up to the podium and accepted his award. Danny had a speech written, one where he would thank everyone who helped him get to this point, a big shoutout to his parents watching at home, to his “brothers” for giving him the opportunity to be doing what he’s doing, and for Y/N, who always stuck by his side. But instead, Danny scratched the whole speech, saying thank you to those who voted for him and to his family and friends.
Danny didn’t stay long after accepting the award. He said goodbye to the Kiszka’s and went straight home. He was worried about you at first, but his worry melted into anger, when he arrived home to see your car in the driveway, and lights on in the house. He slammed the car door shut and marched into the house. The sound of Elton John’s ‘Border Song’ was blaring through the speakers. Danny walked into the kitchen, and set his keys down loudly, startling you from your baking trance.
“Oh! Hey! Your home!” You said, putting on a fake smile.
“What the hell is all this?” Danny asked, looking around at the various ingredients all over the kitchen.
“I- uh, I wanted to try something?” You said nervously.
“You wanted to try something? You wanted to- is this what was so fucking important that you turned your phone off?”
You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and noticed that you had turned it off at some point, probably when you went into your meditation room, “I’m sorry I just-“
“You missed it,”
“Missed what?”
Danny let out a short breath, “Forget it, just like you forget everything else. Here, find a place for this to go,” Danny set down his glass plaque on the counter in front of you and stormed out of the kitchen. A gasp left your mouth and tears fells as you read the words engraved on it. You looked up from the plaque to the calendar on the fridge, and in your handwriting you read ‘Danny’s Award Night!!!’
“Oh my god,” You cried, crumbling down to the floor. You pulled your knees up to your chest, letting the tears and sobs escape your mouth. You can’t believe you forgot one of the biggest nights in his career. He had beaten out drumming legends, to get this award. He would never admit it, but it meant the world to him to even be nominated, and winning. . . that was something indescribable. How the hell could you forget something so important? How could you just completely ignore it too? When you turned your phone on, you were bombarded with the texts and missed call notifications. Everyone had texted you, from Sam to one of the execs at the label.
‘Sam Not Smith: where are you?’
‘Are you okay?’
‘Y/N, it’s almost time for the award?’
‘We’re starting to get worried. . .’
‘I swear to god, if you’re sleeping. . .’
‘You missed the award. Danny is on his way home. . . he’s devastated’
Tears clogged your vision at the last text. Your heart felt like it shattered reading the world ‘devastated’. You had tried your absolute hardest to never let him down, and you did, on one of the most important nights in his career. You didn’t even know what to do, so you just sat on the kitchen floor and cried.
----------------------
Danny shedded off his clothes, a pair of black dress pants and an emerald green button up, one that you had picked out for him to wear weeks ago for tonight. He threw the clothes in the hamper, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and sat down on the bed with a sigh. He didn’t even know what to think. He was heartbroken and angry. You had never forgotten something like this. Sure, some times you were sometimes disorganized and would put things off til the last minute, but completely throwing something off like this. . . it wasn’t like you. Danny looked over at your vanity, and noticed that everything on it was slightly out of place. He then looked over at your closet and noticed that you had placed a red shirt in the middle of your white clothing. Something was off. He should’ve noticed it this morning, when you were wearing mismatched socks, or this afternoon when you answered back with a one word text, or when he came home to the kitchen in complete disarray. Danny pulled himself from his thoughts, and walked down the stairs, to find you now scrubbing the kitchen floors. All the baking stuff was put away, and everything was tidied up again.
“Y/N. . .” Danny said.
“I didn’t get anything done on the list today, and I had clean the kitchen down on the list, so I gotta at least get one thing done,”
“Baby, it’s late,” Danny said trying to reason with you, “Come on, you can do that later,”
“No!” You cried, and looked up at him. He could see your bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks from crying. You threw down the sponge in your hand and wiped your nose, “I am so sorry I forgot, Danny. I-I tried so hard to get things done today, and I knew about the award and I just tried and I’m tired, and I feel like I’m falling apart, and I know that’s not fair to you and you’re mad and-“
Danny cut you off by pulling you into his arms. He shushed you and patted your your softly, placing a kiss on your head, “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” You cried.
“You’re right, it’s not okay. You forgot something important, and it hurts,” Danny said, “But you also hid the fact that you are struggling right now. I told you from day 1, to never hide how you’re feeling from me. If I would’ve known, I would’ve sent Sam or someone to come get you, to check in on you. I guess I was more worried that something was wrong, than angry at you for not being there.”
“Please, please forgive me?” You asked through your tears.
“I forgive you, I’ll always forgive you,”
-----------------------
general taglist: @Godzillalyz @gretavanfleas @sarakay-gvf @444twpk @barbariansgvf @leah2002 @Tastic-gvf @doodle417 @sesamepancakes @theweightofstardust @dannythedog
Danny R Wagner taglist: @downbad4gvf
taglist form
97 notes · View notes
Text
You Are Perfect
MAIN MASTERLIST
Bucky Barnes x PlusSize!Reader
Word Count: 1,900ish
Summary/Request: Can you write an imagine with Bucky and a plus size reader (if your comfortable with it) and basically the reader was going on a date but they got stood up and the date said next time to tell people their weight before going out, making the reader insecure, Bucky sees them crying when the come back to the tower, so he then tells her to clean herself up cause he’s gonna take her out and he reminds and shows her how beautiful she is. The rest is just fluff and you can add to it.
Notes: I hope I did this justice. 
Tumblr media
You never liked dating apps. You honestly didn’t know someone who really did. But Natasha insisted you get on one so that you could try and find someone. She even knew that you had a crush on Bucky, and still insisted that you get on a dating app. That only made you come to the conclusion that Natasha knew that Bucky didn’t feel the same. He was your best friend after all, and that was probably all you were going to be to him.
Natasha set up your profile, checking with you on the pictures to make sure you felt comfortable. It was hard for you to feel comfortable sharing pictures sometimes, especially when you knew you were bigger than a lot of other girls. After the pictures, Nat had done the swiping and eventually set up a date.
That date was tonight and both Natasha and Wanda were in your room getting you ready. They had picked the outfit, done your makeup and your hair, all without letting you peek. Wanda, with your permission, had made it so your eyes couldn’t see. Allowing them to work freely on you without any worries of you seeing.
“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky greeted, knocking on the door as he opened it. “Do you— uh, what’s going on here?”
“Y/N’s going on a date!” Wanda exclaimed.
“A… a date?”
“Yeah! We’re getting her ready.”
“Speaking of which,” Natasha added, looking you over, “we’re almost done.”
“Good because I’m getting nervous,” you commented, softly. “Do I… Do I look okay?” Bucky didn’t answer right away.
“You look beautiful. Right, Buck?” Natasha pressed.
“Uh, yeah,” he answered nervously. “You look great, Y/N. I’m just going to leave you guys to it.” 
He quickly shut the door. You deflated, shoulders shagging and head down. All you wanted was to impress Bucky, which obviously wasn’t happening.
“Na-huh, none of that,” Natasha said, guiding your head back up. “You look beautiful and you will have great time.”
“What’s his name again?” You asked.
“Derek!” Wanda excited answered.
“He enjoys a good beer, he works out,” Natasha began explaining. "He’s a lawyer, I think. Don’t worry, not one of Starks. And occasionally enjoys long walks in Central Park.”
“Wow,” you rolled your eyes. “Sounds like I should just marry him now.”
“Hey,” Nat playfully swatted at you. “Stop. Can you agree to at least try?”
“Fine.” 
You took a long look in the mirror. Your friends had really gotten an outfit that flattered you, so your confidence did begin to grow. You were going to be able to do this. You were going to be able to have fun and begin to move on from Bucky. At least, that’s what you had started to tell yourself.
~~~
You arrived at the restaurant first, nervously playing around with the napkin on your lap. You had immediately ordered a drink when you arrived so that you couldn’t feel too awkward waiting there. So wrapped up in your own nervous thoughts, you failed to realize that Derek was going on 20 minutes late. Maybe he was stuck in traffic?
“Do you want to begin ordering?” The kind waitress asked.
“No, I think I’ll—“ 
You were halted by your phone beeping. You glanced at it to see a notification from the dating app. Maybe it was Derek. You quickly opened the app and pressed into the notification.
Derek: You might want to warn a guy about your weight before a date next time. Or change the pictures on your profile to more accurately depict you.
The waitress tried to hold in a gasp as she read the message over your shoulder. There were immediate tears in your eyes. Letting out a trembling breath, you stood up.
“Ma’am, how about I get the chef to—“
“I’m fine,” you cut the waitress off. “I’m so sorry to waste your time.” With shaking hands, you pulled out an a hundred dollar bill that Tony had given you for emergencies. You set the bill on the table. 
“No, I can’t—“
“Please, for your troubles.” A few tears escaped your eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
And you rushed out of the restaurant. The night was chilly and you had failed to bring a jacket. Looking around, you decided that you wanted to walk back to the Tower. You held onto your arms for warmth and you walked down the street and cried. When you got back to the Tower, your nose was red and running, not just from crying.
You were grateful that the Tower lobby was practically empty and that no-one entered the elevator with you. You wanted to go straight to your room, but your stomach had begun growling.
“FRIDAY?” You quietly called out to the AI.
“Yes, Y/N?” It responded.
“Is anyone in the kitchen?”
“At the moment, no. I do suggest you hurry. Sargent Barnes tends to get a drink around this time.”
With a sigh, you gave in to your stomach and allowed the elevator to stop on the common floor. You were on high alert as you headed for the kitchen, checking around every corner your came across. Eventually you made it to the kitchen, quickly grabbing a various amount of foods that you could carry. Struggling to see over the pile in your arms, you turned around and instantly ran into something—or someone. Causing everything you had grabbed to fly everyone.
“Yikes, doll,” Bucky chuckled. You quickly crotched down and began picking everything up. “Wait…” Bucky joined you. “Shouldn’t you still be out on a date?” 
You didn’t answer, you didn’t even make a move to look at him. You just kept your head down as you rapidly picked up everything.
“Hey,” Bucky said, setting his hand gently on yours. He leaned his head down, trying to get a look at your face. “Can you look at me, Y/N?”
“I’m…” you cleared your voice, having sounded like you had been crying. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Look at me.”
“Bucky…”
“Did he hurt you?” You didn’t respond, letting a tear fall down your cheek and off your chin. “Y/N, did he lay a hand on you?”
“I…” You let out a whimper. “He…”
“I’m going to kill him,” Bucky growled, standing up. “Stay here. I’ll be—“
“No, Bucky, don’t!” You quickly got up and grabbed his arm to stop him. “Please. He didn’t touch me, I promise.”
Bucky took in your blood shot eyes and tear stained face, and his heart felt like it could shatter into a million pieces. He stepped closer to you, slowly reaching up his hand to brush his fingers against your cheek. You looked away.
“What happened?” Bucky whispered. “Tell me, please. I just want to help.”
You licked your lips as you nodded. Taking in and letting out a shuttering breath, you closed your eyes and tried to pull your thoughts together.
“He… I… He was late. And I…” You looked down out your hands, fiddling with them. “I thought it was just traffic, but after almost 30 minutes I got a message… and, from what he said, he had to have come to the restaurant and then left… my weight...”
“And what did the message say?” Bucky pressed, his tone gentle and kind.
“It… it said that I should have warned him about my weight before the date.”
“Your weight?” Bucky was shocked and so confused. What did your weight have to do with anything?
“And that I should change my profile pictures to more accurately depict me…”
“What? What gave him the right to say any of that?”
“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “But maybe—“
“No! No but maybe. You don’t believe any of that, right?” Bucky’s hands went to your shoulders and he moved his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, please tell me that you don’t believe a word that bastard said.”
“He’s not wrong… I’m not as small as many girls. I need to lose weight—”
“Oh no, no, no, no, no. Y/N, listen to me.” His hands moved to hold your face. “You are perfect just the way you are. Your weight is perfect for you. And you deserve better than that asshole. You hear me?”
“You’re saying those things because you have to… you’re my friend…”
Bucky shook his head slightly, wanting to tell you that it was more than that. That he wanted to be more than that. But he knew now was not the time.
“We’re going out,” he stated, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the elevator.
“No, Bucky,” you resisted, so tried too. “I really don’t feel like it. Plus there’s that mess—“
“Steve will clean it up in the morning. He’s always the first one up and OCD like that.”
“Bucky… I really don’t feel like going out.”
“Fine. Then we’ll stay in.” He led you into the elevator, only for himself to step back out of it. “Meet me in the movie room in 10 minutes. Change into something comfy.”
The doors began closing. “Bucky—“
“I’ll come up for you if you’re late.”
~~~
Though you didn’t want to, you did as you were told and met Bucky in the movie room 10 minutes later. You had changed into your comfiest, baggiest clothes, trying to hide your body from the world. When you arrived, Bucky had your favorite movie up on the screen, the popcorn machine going, and he was carrying blankets to the couch. That man worked fast.
“Right on time,” he smiled at you. 
“You really didn’t have to,” you replied, shyly. 
“Oh, I really did.” He plopped onto the couch, patting the spot next to him. “Come, sit.”
Fiddling with your sleeves you walked over and sat next to Bucky, making sure there was a decent amount of space between the two of you. Bucky sighed, noticing what you were doing but decided to give you your wanted space for a little bit. He started the movie and had FRIDAY dim the lights before handing you a blanket. 
Not long into the movie, the popcorn was done and Bucky went up to get it. He put it in a large bowl before sitting himself next to you. You inhaled sharply as he set the bowl between you and rested his arm behind you on the back of the couch.
It was the middle of the movie now and you reached into the bowl for some popcorn, at the same time Bucky did. Your eyes snapped to look at him. Without taking his eyes off of yours and before you could pull away, he carefully took your hand and brought it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.
“You are perfect,” he whispered, breath fanning over your hand. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”
“Thank you, Bucky,” you breathed out. “For all of this. You really didn’t have to.”
“I couldn’t let my favorite gal’s night be completely ruined.”
“I’m your favorite gal?”
“Since day 1… you deserve better than a man who doesn’t see your worth.”
“And you think you’re that?”
“I’d like to try to be that for you. If you’d let me… so, Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me try and show you how perfect you are?”
You tried to suppress a smile. “I’d like that."
729 notes · View notes
once-upon-a-oneshot · 3 years
Text
Friends with Benefits
Tumblr media
Summary: You and Calum are friends with benefits, but what happens when one of you starts to want something more
Genre: Frat!Calum
Warnings: swearing, sexual themes
Word Count: ~900
“Same time tomorrow?” Calum asks as you clumsily climb out of his bed and search around the room for the panties you arrived in.
“Um,” As you reach under the bed, you feel the silk material in a crumbled heap. You pull it out only to realize that these are not the panties you wore here. In fact, they aren’t even yours. “I actually have plans.” You continued, throwing the panties away from you and wiping your hand on your still bare thigh.
“Plans?” Calum’s tone is doubtful, almost even mocking. But you’re too busy scowering the room for your panties to notice.
“Yep.” Deciding to abandon your search for your undergarments, you grab your pants off the foot of the bed and shimmy them on. “So, looks like you’re going old school tomorrow. Just you, yourself, and Miss Righty.” 
The way you grin to yourself as you pull your shirt over your head annoys him. He hates for any one, especially just some girl he hooks up with, to feel that they’ve got anything over him.
“Bold of you to assume you’re the only girl I call when I need to get off.” He pushes, raising an eyebrow at you. Uninterestedly you roll your eyes at him.
“Not only,” you smirk to yourself, “but best.” He’s trying to best you, but you’re not like all the other insecure girls he messes around with. You know what you’ve got, and you know what it’s worth.
“Again,” it was Calum’s turn to smirk at you. “Bold assumption”. Your only response it to roll your eyes as you bend over to pull on your shoes.
“I mean, for the past three weeks you’ve called me, what,” You turn your eyes towards the ceiling and scrunch your face pretending to think. For added measure you use one finger to solve an imaginary equation in the air. “Oh that’s right, every night.”
You won’t back down. But Calum won’t either.
“Yea, and who do you think I’ve called every morning?” Calum smirks triumphantly. You say nothing as you grab your purse and head for the door.
“Good, then call one of them.” You say it and mean it. Just like it was for Calum, to you this arrangement was simply a business transaction. A mutual exchange of sexual favors. Nothing more. 
“See ya.” You call over your shoulder as you finally walk out of the room. Leaving Calum naked and alone in his bed.
*****CALUM’S POV*****
Friday night. Exactly 22 hours since I last got off. I’m not OCD or anything. It’s just that over the years I’ve found that keeping a strict “booty-call” schedule made it easier to keep track of my endeavors. Not to mention it prevents the always awkward “two booty-calls running into each other” situation. If you’ve never experienced one chick leaving your room half naked, while another chick is walking in ready to smash, trust me – you don’t want to go there. However, it did make for some pretty hot hate-sex.
Not that the schedule really mattered much lately. There was really only one time to account for. (Y/N)’s time. Every night for the past couple weeks. 10 o’clock on the dot is her call time. Usually she won’t get here until about midnight, but that works out perfectly for me. The later it is the less likely she’ll be to try and hang out, or some shit, afterwards.
Throwing the weight of my body on the bed, I pull my phone out of my tight jean pocket and call her.
It’s not until she doesn’t answer that I remember about the bullshit “plans” she told me she had.  Whether they are real or not, they’ll just have to wait. Because right now, I need her. Well, my dick does anyway.
I call again. This time the phone rings twice and then goes straight to voicemail.
She sent me to voicemail.
This is probably all just some elaborate scheme to make me think she actually has better things to do than fuck me.
Two can play at that game
I toss my phone on the bed and head towards the bathroom. The sound of my phone vibrating on the bed makes me stop in my tracks. I smile to myself and eagerly make a move for the phone.
Eagerly? Why are you eager?
I blame it on my being horny. I can’t help the way my face falls with disappointment when it’s my friends contact name on my screen instead of hers.
Disappointment?
I must be really, really, horny.
“What?” I bark annoyed. It’s not actually him I’m bothered by, but he’s the one who’s available.
“Dude, where are you?” he’s yelling into the phone, and I can hear loud music blaring in the background.
“My room?” I don’t know what he wants, but if he doesn’t tell me soon this conversation is going to end.
“Oh, I figured you were at that Phi Delta party?”
“Well, I just told you I’m in my room.” I snap. “Why the hell would I be at some frat party?”
I’m far from the type. All those preppy douchebags. Running around with their gelled-hair, short shorts, and flip flops. What real man wears flip-flops other than to the beach? And even that is pushing it.
“Yea but-” the sound of his voice pulls me back to reality from my internal rant. “Your little fuck-buddy’s here so I figured-”
“Who?” I interrupt.
“Uh, you know that one chick. The one you rated best rack!”
“(Y/N)?!” I don’t know why but knowing that she was ignoring my calls, while she was probably running around with some douchey frat guy irritated me.
“Yea! Yea dude her! She looks-” Before he can even finish his sentence, I hang up the phone and grab my keys. I don’t know why I going to the party or what I’ll do when I get there, but right now all I can think about is (Y/N) laying in bed with a douche in flip-flops.
As I finally pull up in front of the huge trashy house, none of the irritation has left my body. Taking long strides, I make my way in the house and navigate through all the drunk teens determined to find (Y/N). I do a quick scan of the living room, the kitchen, the backyard, but she’s nowhere to be seen. With every room I check off the list, my fears of her being locked in one of those bedrooms upstairs with some guy grows.
Just as I’m about to storm up the stairs and kick in every door, I spot her walking through the front door, with a guy following close behind. The type of guy who looks like he wears flip flops. As I watch her grin from ear to ear, I can feel anger rumbling deep in my stomach. Suddenly the house feels hot. Too hot.
My eyes follow them into the kitchen. I count to 10, and I head towards the kitchen too.
“Wooow, hey.” I fake shocked to be running into (Y/N) here.
“Calum.” Her statement sounds more like a question as her eyes go wide.
“Plans huh?” My eyes shift to the tool standing too close to her. I mean come on its burning up in here. Definitely, too hot to be standing that close to someone.
“Yea. Uh Corey this is Calum, Calum this is my friend Corey.” Friend? Her friend Corey? And what I’m? Just Calum? What she should’ve said was ‘Douchebag this is the guy who fucks me better than anyone ever has be-‘
“Nice to meet you man.” Douchebag interrupts my perverse thoughts and reaches out to shake my hand. I don’t want to take it. Who knows where those fingers have been.
Hopefully not in her.
I choke on my own thoughts as my breathe gets caught in my throat. I burst into a fit of coughs and (Y/N) and Douchebag just stare at me like I just grew another head. Douchebag pushes his cup towards me and I take it. As I chug down the beer from his cup, I swear I can taste (Y/N)’s pussy on the rim.
His lips better have not gone anywhere near her.
I can’t stop the thoughts going through my head, or the places my fucked-up imagination keeps taking me, but I know it needs to stop.
I finish off Douchebag’s drink and hand the empty cup back to him. I can feel the alcohol immediately. My muscles ease ever so slightly and I’m starting to function like a normal human being again. I need to regain control of this situation.
“So,” I chose to not even address whatever the hell was going on with me a minute ago. “This is the hot date (Y/N) was all giddy about.” I challenge her.
“You told him this was a date?” Douchebag raises an eyebrow and turns his attention to (Y/N) who’s shooting me daggers with her eyes.
“Well I didn’t use those words exactly.” She says through gritted teeth.
“Damn this is embarrassing,” He continues. I smirk to myself and wait for the show to begin. “Because ... I’ve been telling everyone it was.”
Douche, and I can’t stress this enough, bag.
I can’t help but roll my eyes and scoff, which I play off as another cough.
“You Calum, should take care of that cough, and you Corey, follow me to the beer pong table.” I watch as she grabs his hand and pulls him back towards the living room.
I decide to stay in the kitchen and continue adding alcohol to my system. The liquor burns my throat but for the time being it stops the weird thoughts in my head and helps me think more clearly. I mean obviously I’m not jealous or anything because, why the hell would I be. He’s a douche yea, but not because he’s here with the chick I occasionally fuck. And obviously I’m not irritated with her just because she’s here with a douche. It’s just that I needed to get my dick wet and she ignored my call to be here with said douche. Like he’s somehow more important than me getting off.
I stumble back into the living room and find a spot on the couch. Of course from where I’m sitting I have the perfect view of the beer pong table, and therefore the perfect view and Miss Thing and her new boy toy.
I sit watching them as I down beer after beer. My eyes follow (Y/N) intently as she finally walks away from the table towards the kitchen again. Without thinking, my feet are carrying me to the kitchen right behind her.
“Are you like stalking me now Calum?” she spins on her heels noticing me trailing her.
“Fiesty.” I wink at her. She just rolls her eyes and continues over towards the punch bowl to refill her cup. “I just wanted to tell you how good you look tonight.” I lick my lips while allowing my eyes to rake up and down her body, paying particular attention to her breasts.
“Fuck off.” She rolls her eyes at me while shaking her head. She knows this is a game, and she’s fighting hard not to lose.
“Damn,” I place one hand on her neck tilting her head to the side. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.” I make a move to attach my lips to her neck and she lets me. And I know I’ve won. I suck at the sensitive skin and try to push my body closer to hers. “Let me take you upstairs.” I whisper into her neck.
“See I would,” she speaks but doesn’t move away from me. “But, I have a hot date to get back to.” She finally pulls away from me. “I’m just so giddy about it.” She’s mocking me. She smirks as she brushes past me leaving me and my bulge alone in the kitchen.
One hour, and too many shots later I’m still here. At this stupid frat house with these stupid people. I could’ve just gone home, but something keeps me here. I think it’s my obsession with beating (Y/N). Finally proving to her that she should’ve been in my bed with me tonight. Not here with what’s his face. When the first bit of alcohol entered my system, it helped keep my thoughts from running wild. Now that it’s pulsing through my veins as thick as my blood, the thoughts have returned.
I sit on the stairs, watching as (Y/N) grinds her perfect ass against Corbin, or whatever the hell his name was. It makes me sick. He slides his hands down her hips. He could never navigate her body as well as I do – even if she drew him a map. I’m the one that knows all the right places to touch her. I’m the one who knows all the right buttons to push. My name is the name she calls out while I pound into her.
The alcohol is mixing with my lust and my anger and it’s pushing me.
Douchebag spins (Y/N) around and wraps his hands in her hair.
The way that I do.
He tries to lean in and kiss her, but just before his lips meet hers, I’m pushing him off of her. My mind is confused but my fist are determined. I tackle him to the ground and start beating the shit out of him.
“Calum! CALUM GET OFF OF HIM!” (Y/N)’s voice pulls me off of him when no one else has been able to. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I don’t know how to answer her, because truthfully, I don’t know what I’m doing. I stand there glancing around at all the faces of the small crowd that had formed around us.
“He-You-” I was struggling to find a way to blame them for this. She stands there impatiently waiting for me to speak. Her angered expressions triggers something in me. She thinks she can stand here and face off against me. What does she think? She can intimidate me or something?
“You’re the one who should’ve answered my call!” I bite back at her. “Then I wouldn’t have had to come to this stupid ass party in the first place!”
“Calum get over yourself!” Why can’t she just let me win. Why does she have to be so damn stubborn? My body burns with rage and the faces of all these staring people aren’t making things any better.
“What the hell are you all looking at?!” I yell at the nosy ass bystanders. I probably look like a mad man. Wild hair, sweating, with knuckles busted and bleeding. I look scary enough for the crowd to scurry away in all directions turning their attention to something else.
(Y/N), along with the crowd, turns her back on me.
“Don’t,” I grab her arm and spin her back around to face me. “Turn your back on me!”
“Fuck! Off!” She emphasizes each word never letting any of the anger simmer. She jerks her arm away from me and turns her back on me again. I want to say whatever I need to to keep her from walking away from me. And of all the things I could, and probably should say, the best I can do is:
“That guy isn’t right for you!” The words taste foreign on my lips. I’ve never been one to look of for what was “right” for someone. Especially not some girl. The second the words leave my mouth I want to shove them back down my throat.
Now she’ll think she got me.
Now she’ll think she’s won.
“Right for me? Christ Calum it’s a date, not a fucking proposal!” She’s pissed, but at least she stayed. (Y/N) marches up to get in my face. She’s not done with me yet. “And what the hell do you know about right for me?! We fuck on occasion but that doesn’t mean you KNOW ME!”
She turns around and storms off. This time I let her go.
As I watch her walk away from me, I get this feeling. A feeling in the pit of my stomach. A sinking feeling.
Don’t leave me.
The thought scares me. I’ve never wanted someone to stay before, nor did I ever want to want someone to stay. But as the possibility of her staying faded -- leaving me alone -- I realized how desperately I wanted it. How desperately I needed it. Needed her.
This wasn’t a game. It never was. But as she turned her back on me, I couldn’t help but feel like I had just lost.
236 notes · View notes
kotachii · 3 years
Text
Haikyuu Text Reply Rates (hc)
Haikyuu Text Reply Rates Headcanons
Summary: How often will they reply to a text they receive?
Featuring: Karasuno, Fukurodani, Aoba Johsai, Nekoma, Inarizaki, Shiratorizawa, Johzenji and Itachiyama
Tumblr media
Karasuno
Daichi - 90% He is the dad of the group, he is ready to answer all type of texts, mini crisis and to help out. But even he needs rests sometimes. He sleeps early, is busy with club activities so he will definitely miss a few replies here and there.
Sugawara - 95% Like Daichi, being the mom of the group he also likes to help out when someone reaches out to him. Sometimes when the messages gets too chaotic tho.....he'll just pretend he didn't see it. He has read notifications turned off.
Tanaka - 100% He can't help it. He just has to respond to everything. Even wrong number texts: "Who're you, tryna pick a fight?!". This guy has no chill.
Nishinoya - 63.4% If he isn't responding, he isn't ignoring you! He is so wild, always running around, jumping, rolling....his phone breaks every other week. He will reply to you when his phone is working properly.
Kageyama - 20% Phones are a waste of time so he rarely replies. Even when he does, they are really short responses. Also makes sure to put a period after each sentence. "No." "Yes." "Ok." 
Hinata - 65% Hinata is always really hyper and excited when he receives a message, but ball is life and he's busy playing volleyball most of the time. Rarely checks his phone but when he does, he will try to get to every message he gets.
Asahi - 70% He is really self conscious about his messages, if he gets left on read, he will literally be thinking about this two weeks later still wondering where he went wrong. But really, his reply was "That's good", what answer did he expect? So now he tries to leave people on read instead of being left on read....
Tsukishima - 15% "Come back during business hours." That's it. When is business hour? Never.
Yachi - 100% Yachi is so nice, she will answer to everyone's texts. Responds super fast too...is she always on her phone? She will write you a whole paragraph if you ask her about anything. It's like an OCD, she has to reply to everyone.
Tumblr media
Fukurodani
Bokuto - 80% He is always happy to receive messages and he types a lot in all caps. He uses a lot of emojis too, not because he wants to act cute but because it's easier to send a few emojis than to write something. He is not a fast reader, he also types slowly so sometimes, he will forget to reply or simply gives up when he doesn't understand the message. He will just send you a thumbs up emoji. Seems very encouraging but in reality, that's codeword for he didn't understand what you said.
Akaashi - 85% (unless if you're Bokuto, that's 100%) He cares about other people so he will give his best to answer to their messages. It still gives him a headache though. When he helps one person, it seems that another three will suddenly pop out of nowhere. He will soon become the 24/7 therapist hotline if he keeps responding to all of them. 
Tumblr media
Aoba Johsai
Oikawa - 45% He wants to keep up his image of being the "hot guy" and thus, can't seem to make himself too available. But he definitely read all of the messages but just chooses to not respond to keep up his appearance. Doesn't dare to do this to Iwa though.
Iwaizumi - 55% Iwaizumi is busy most of the time. His replies are no-nonsense and straight to the point. He still makes an effort to leave some type of "ok" message instead of just leaving it on read. 
Kunimi - 20% normally, 100% during class He doesn't make any effort to reply. He replies when he wants to or when he's bored. And that just means during class.
Tumblr media
Nekoma
Kuroo - 78% Likes to tease a lot in his replies. He tries to make every message he sends funny or quirky. When he runs out of ideas, that's when he doesn't respond. He has his read receipts off though, he doesn't want anyone to feel bad that he didn't respond to their message.
Kenma - 10% Oh he definitely heard his phone ring. But he just doesn't wanna pick it up, he is busy playing his video game and will reply "later".
Lev - 95% Not a lot of people text him so when they do, he gets very excited. Always responds very quickly unless if he is at practice. When that's the case, he will make a mental note to respond later (and unlike Kenma, he actually means to do it). Only thing is Lev is forgetful and will usually remember two weeks later. Even then, he will still reply anyways even if he is two weeks late.
Tumblr media
Inarizaki
Atsumu - 40% Atsumu is so cocky, he will decide on each message individually if it is worth his time. This ends up becoming more time consuming than if he just replies right away. Sometimes ends up missing out on outings because he made the wrong judgment about a message and will beat himself over it. "I'm too cool for them anyways", thinks Atsumu as he stares jealously at a picture of the volleyball team going to the aquarium without him.
Osamu - 35% If he is busy cooking, he won't respond. If he is busy practicing volleyball, he won't respond. If he is busy, he won't respond. And he is busy most of the time. Will reply to the important messages though, and this includes anywhere that he can bash on Atsumu. Makes an effort to leave Atsumu on read. 
Kita - 80% "What do you want?" is always the vibes he gives off. He doesn't mean it though, that is him showing concern. He will respond very ernestly so if you're looking to just rant about something, don't text Kita. He will lecture you for hours. However, he believes that too much technology isn't good and can be a source of distraction so he will have downtimes where he doesn't use his phone. 
Tumblr media
Shiratorizawa
Tendou - 40%  Tendou will pick and choose. If he finds what you are saying is funny or interesting, he will reply. Also higher reply chance at night because he doesn't sleep. Most of the time will reply something completely unrelated.
Ushijima - 30%
"The read notification shows that I got your message." Ushijima won't respond unless if he feels the need to. If you're asking him something, he will leave you on read. But that just means that he heard and you and agreed! Don't ask why he can't be bothered to text back an "ok"...to him, the read notification itself is the ok
Tumblr media
Other
Terushima - 60% Fuckboy energy. Replies mainly to girls, if you're a guy, be prepared to be left on read. Also likes to ask girls for numbers but once he gets it...he doesn't know what to do with it. Will probably send a message that says "HEY!" and then never respond again. He just wants a collection of girl's phone numbers in his contact
Sakusa - 5% He picks up the phone. Looks at the screen. Squints a bit because of the screen's brightness in the dim room. Swipes the notification away. No he didn't see your message. This man is impossible to reach. The only time that he texts is if he is having a crisis and ask you to come kill a spider for him at 2 am. 
254 notes · View notes
wiypt-writes · 3 years
Text
Stark Spangled Banner
Tumblr media
Ch 13: On Your Left
Summary: Steve and Katie meet a new friend whilst out jogging, and Steve is sent on a mission to rescue a ship- the Lemurian Star…but it fast becomes apparent that not everyone on his team is pulling in the same direction.
Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW, 18+)
A/N: We jump forward a couple of months here and slip straight into the Winter Soldier storyline. Credit to @angrybirdcr​ for another lovely edit, and this re-post contains additional materiel- I’ve written the mission out instead of merely skipping over it.
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 12 Part 2
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Tumblr media
 End of March/Beginning of April 2014
“Turn it off,” Katie’s voice was muffled from the pillow she had buried her face into as the alarm rang around the dark bedroom. Steve moved slightly to turn it off, but he wasn’t fast enough for his Girlfriend’s liking. “Steve!”
With a huff he leaned over and slapped the offending item with his palm, hitting the snooze button.
“Why is it even set?” She grumbled “It’s not like you don’t normally wake up at the crack of dawn anyway…and who uses an alarm clock when they have a phone?”
“You know, no one makes you stay here.” Steve teased, with a chuckle moving so that his front was pressed to her back.
“You’ve been away for five days, I never sleep as well when you’re not here.” She mimicked his line from the night before in a baby voice.
“And that’s why the alarm is set, because I do sleep better with you.” His arms circled her waist and he grinned to himself as despite the fact she was grumpy and tired she melted into his arms as he nuzzled at her neck, revelling in her smell, her warmth.
“Jerk.” She grumbled. “I mean what time is it anyway?” There was a pause as he continued to simply breathe her in and she glanced at her phone giving a scoff as she saw the ridiculous time on the screen “5:30? In the morning. Five. Thirty…”
“You said you wanted to go running.” He murmured, his eyes still closed.
“No, you said you were going running and I said I might tag along because I’ve eaten nothing but shit whilst I’ve been in New York, which, by the way is your fault…”
“My fault?” Steve laughed, cracking an eye open “I wasn’t even there.”
“Exactly” she muttered “No one to stop me.” “I wouldn’t stop you anyway. You’re a big girl, you make your own decisions…” “Big girl? You calling me fat?” she teased as she rolled onto her back and turned her head to face his, just about making out his features in the dark room. He rolled his eyes, God she was a pain in the ass at times.
“Yeah, you’re huge.” he deadpanned, his hand travelling over her flat stomach and coming to rest on her hip. “Enormous.”
“Ok, well now that we’ve established I need to run, you know on account of me being a hippo, that still doesn’t answer the question why we have to go so damned early anyway. It’s not like we have to be anywhere…” “It’s less crowded.” he shrugged.
“Yeah, that’s because it’s a ridiculous time.”
“Stop being a fucking brat!” Steve laughed and she huffed out breath again.
“I’m not being a brat, it’s just a stupid time to be getting up.”
“I love how full of sunshine and happiness you are in the morning.” Steve muttered as he dropped his head so his lips could gently trail a few lazy kisses down her neck before landing at her collarbone and giving a quick nip, his hand tightening on her hip.
She sighed, her body already starting to respond to his touch, the way it always did, betraying her. 
Damned him and his fucking bastard sex appeal.
“Okay, if you want to actually get up now…” She muttered, as his mouth travelled back up and she rolled her head back to give him access to the spot on her neck that drove her wild every time he found it.  “I suggest you stop.” “I hit the snooze button.” he muttered, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “We got about eight minutes left.”
“Eight minutes? You have a very high opinion of yourself.” Katie replied, tilting her head so she was looking at him, smirking.
Steve said nothing, just cocked a single, mischievous brow at her before his lips met hers, his hand running down from hip to thigh then across, parting her legs slightly. They were still naked from the night before, clothes strewn all over the apartment after he’d been so desperate to get his hands on her.
She moaned gently into his mouth as he slowly sank two fingers into her and her hips instantly bucked upwards, drawing a grin from his mouth. 
“Easy, Baby.” He whispered, his mouth returning to her neck.
Four minutes later she lay beneath him, a quivering wreck and he was right behind her, two shallow thrusts later as he tumbled over that edge with a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he fell forward onto her. He smirked into her neck when she had finally regained her senses enough to quip that he’d beaten his best time by a full sixty seconds. And sixty seemed to be the flavour of the day as it was almost another sixty minutes before they got to his favoured running spot, the National Mal thanks to the fact it had taken Katie half an hour minutes to locate her running shoes which she’d eventually found in her car.  Steve had seized the opportunity, as always to lament her for the fact she was messy. 
“I’m not messy.” She scoffed indignantly as they walked the seven blocks. “I’m just not as OCD about everything being in its right place, all the time, like a neat-freak Soldier”
The good natured jibing had continued until they reached their destination and walked through the park to the reflecting pool
“How many laps did you do last time?” Katie asked, as Steve stretched his arms upwards, cracking his back.
“Six.” he said.
She looked at him, frowning. “That’s like what? Twenty miles?”
“Nearer twenty-two.” He grinned.  “You want me to keep your pace?”
She laughed “No way, you’ll just bitch at me for being slow.”
“I do not bitch…” “You bitch like a 14 year old girl.” Katie lamented, gently shoving him in his back. “Now go, go on!”
He smiled again, jogging backwards for a second before he set off at a rate of knots. Exercise always made him feel good. Running, boxing, sparring…fucking. Pushing away the dirty thoughts that had arisen to the forefront of his mind, he was quick to find a comfortable pace, his trainer clad feet slapping the concrete.
It didn’t take Katie long to find her rhythm either. Despite not being with SHIELD anymore she had kept her fitness training up, sparring three times a week with either Natasha or Steve in the local gym. She was technically still an Avenger after all, Tony having now fashioned her another Supernova suit which was basically a version of his latest Iron Man suit but in Silver and Blue, the Nova shaped star sported in the chest where the mini arc reactor powered it. She’d given it a trial run whilst she had been back in New York and was just as impressed with it now as she had been with the prototype he had blown up.
Her feet gently slapped the ground as she ran, the sun was rising on the last day of March and it was promising to be a sunny, bright spring morning.
"Hi.” A voice greeted her as another jogger she hadn’t seen before caught up with her and fell into step with her.
“Nice day for it!”  Katie smiled.
“You normally run this early?” He asked “Haven’t seen you around before.”
“That’s because I don’t normally run here!” She smiled “But I just spent 5 days in New York eating crap so…!”
He laughed and held out his hand. “Sam Wilson.”
She took it and gave it a shake. “Katie Stark.”
“Well I’ll be damned!” Sam grinned “I didn’t recognise you. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
As Steve was about to lap Katie for the first time he noticed she was running with another jogger, a black man wearing a grey sweater with short, cropped hair. At one time this would have sparked the green eyed monster in his chest, but not now. Not only did he know she wouldn’t stand for it, but he knew she was just sociable in general. She would talk to anyone given the chance and moreover, she was his girl, he knew that. As he approached them he breathed out an “On your left.” as a warning as he sped past into his second lap.
Sam frowned, looking round and Katie smirked, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as Steve’s frame whizzed off into the distance.
“I never tire of looking at these.” She commented a short while later as they rounded the monument.
Again the sound of heavy footsteps came. “On your left.”
“On your left.”
“Uh-huh. On my left. I got it.” Sam called after him as he entered his fifth lap.
Katie didn’t even try to stop herself this time and she laughed at the slight look of frustration on Sam’s face.
Not long after they were making a lap around the pool at the base of the memorial. Sam gritted his teeth at the wholly unwelcomed sound of footsteps behind him once again, he looked over his shoulder “Don’t say it. Don’t you say it!”
“On your left.”
“Come on!” Sam shouted and Steve allowed an amused smile to spread across his face.
Sam tried his hardest to pick up his speed to match that of Steve’s but failed miserably after only a few moments, now completely gassed out.
“Are you alright?” Katie asked laughing as she approached his hunched over figure, catching her own breath.
“Oh, here he comes…Superman himself…” Sam said gesturing to where Steve was now walking towards them, hands on his hips. He paused at his girl’s side and looked down at Sam.
“Need a medic?” he teased.
“I need a new set of lungs.” Sam chuckled breathlessly. “Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”
“Guess I got a late start.” He shrugged, shooting Katie a pointed look. She responded with her best innocent stare, batting her eyelids at him. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to the stranger who began to talk again.
“You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap.” He scolded jokingly. “Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”
Steve smiled, he couldn’t help but like this man. As he looked at him, he noticed the military symbol on his grey sweater.
“What unit were you with?” Steve asked changing the subject and motioning to the man’s shirt.
“Fifty-eighth, Para-rescue. But now I’m working down at the VA. Sam Wilson.” He said motioning for help up.
“Steve Rogers.” Steve held out his hand and pulled Sam to his feet.
“I kind of put that together.” Sam said as he tried to catch his balance. “Must have freaked you out, coming round after the whole defrosting thing.”
“It takes some getting used to. But I’ve had help.” He smiled, looking at Katie who grinned back. “Good to meet you Sam.”
“Yeah, bye Sam!” Katie smiled as Steve gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her away.
"It’s your bed right?” Sam called out from behind him.
Steve paused and they both turned back around. “What’s that?”
“Your bed, it’s too soft.” Sam went on to explain. “When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground and use rocks as pillows. Like cavemen. Now I’m back home, in my own bed, feels like-”
Steve cut him off. “Like lying on a marshmallow, feels like I’m gonna sink right to the floor.”
"How long?” He asked Sam
“Two tours.” Sam responded. “You must miss the good old days huh?”
“Well, things aren’t so bad.” He folded his arms, taking a quick glance at Katie who raised her eyebrow at him, teasingly. “Foods a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio that’s good.” He paused before making a gesture with his hand. “Internet so helpful, I’ve been reading that a lot tryna’ catch up.”
Sam nodded and then moved his right hand from where it had been folder across his chest and held it, fingers extended. “Marvin Gaye, 1972, ‘Troubleman’ soundtrack.” He said, returning his arm to its resting position “Everything you’ve missed jammed into one album.”
“Ohhh man!” Katie groaned “I love that film.”
Steve nodded, smiling and pulled out the notebook she had bought him the previous year, “I’ll put it on the list.”
“We can download it later.” Katie offered. Steve smiled as he closed his book before he reached into his other pocket for his phone which was going off. It was Natasha.
'Mission Alert. Extraction imminent. Meet you at the curb :)’
He showed the message to Katie who read it whilst he looked over at Sam.
“Well Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that’s what you wanna call running.” He joked extending his hand.
“Oh that’s how it is?” Sam says amused shaking the offered hand.
“That’s how it is.” Steve responded, laughing slightly.
“Okay, anytime you two wanna stop by the VA. Make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve said as Natasha pulled up in her black chevvy sports car.
“Hey guys, anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” She quipped.
“Hey Nat!” Katie waved at her and she nodded whilst Steve simply shook his head.
“That’s hilarious.” He commented dryly as he turned to Katie. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?” She took a deep breath. “Be careful.” She instructed as she leaned up to give him a kiss. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Steve made his way to the car, opened the passenger side of the car and dropped into the seat.
“How you doing?” Sam called with a smile as he squat down to get a better view of both Natasha and the car.
“Hey.” She responded with a small smile.
“Can’t run everywhere.” Steve joked smugly, looking back at the man.
“No you can’t.” Sam chuckled and Steve shot one last look at Katie who waved as Natasha surged the car forward.
Katie watched them go before she turned to Sam.
“Military girlfriend huh?” He teased and she laughed.
“Something like that.” “Fancy a coffee?” Sam nodded to one of the stands parked over on the square and she smiled.
“Sure, why not?”
Sam insisted on paying, despite Katie’s protests and they took their coffees over to a bench, sitting down in the early morning sun. As they talked, Katie fast realised she really liked this man, and he was pretty damned interesting too. He told Katie about his time serving in Afghanistan and how he had chosen, post the loss of his partner, Riley, to leave active service and focus his attention on helping others through work at the VA.
Katie had never really dug into the VA much, but it seemed like it did some pretty good work, helping those Soldiers who needed help adjusting to life post discharges for medical or mental health reasons. Sam confided in her that the DC branch was under threat due to lack of funding, and she made a mental note to speak to Tony about it being something that maybe the Stark Relief fund could look into partnering.
When they both realised they had been sat on the bench chatting for almost an hour and a half the pair of them both, knowing they had other places to be, exchanged numbers and she promised to pass his onto Steve.
The rest of her day went pretty quick, in a flourish of telephone conferences and various other ad-hoc emails to deal with, talking to the editors and Business Development team about potential authors to target. By the time she logged off for the evening it was gone eight. She leaned back in her chair, glancing up at the photos that decorated her office, her eyes being drawn to the one on the shelf of herself and Steve which had been taken at the New Years Eve gala last year. 
Picking up her phone she debated texting him, but she knew better than to bother him. From personal experience, STRIKE missions were heavy going. Instead she decided she was going to break with their usual routine whereby he would come to hers if it wasn’t too late post mission, and she was going to wait for him at his.
******
 “The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star.” Rumlow spoke, moving images along a screen as they all stood watching as the jet flew over the Indian ocean. “They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago.”
“Any demands?” Steve asked.
“A billion and a half.”
“Why so steep?” Steve asked, frowning. That wasn’t so much steep as fucking vertical.
“Because it SHIELD’s.” Rumlow replied and Steve took a deep breath.
“So it’s not off-course, its trespassing.” He said exasperatedly, turning to his left and looking at Natasha.
“I’m sure they have a good reason.” She met his eyes, her face not faltering for a second.
“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.” Steve raised his eyebrows as she looked back at the screen.
“Relax.” She drawled. “It’s not that complicated”
“How many pirates?” Steve looked back at Rumlow.
“Twenty-five.” he replied, once more swiping at the screen. “Top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc” he pulled up a photo of Batroc on the monitor. “Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.”
“Hostages?” Steve pressed.
“Uh…mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” Rumlow flashed up Sitwell’s photo and Steve shifted slightly “They’re in the galley.”
“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” He queried, an air of frustration in his tone as he pulled on his gloves before he took a breath and issued his instructions without waiting for an answer. “Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep up after, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get ‘em out. Let’s move.”
“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” Rumlow nodded to his team and they all began to bustle around the jet.
Steve moved towards the back, checking his ear piece, raising his wrist communicator to his mouth. “Secure channel seven.”
“Seven secure.” Nat picked up a few more bits of equipment from the shelves, passing a coms device to Evans as Steve walked behind her to the ramp. “Did you do anything fun Saturday night?”
“Well, seeing as all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, I had to settle for a movie and pizza with my girl.” He shrugged as he fit his ear piece, a smile tugging at his face. “Yeah, it was fun.”
Natasha grinned and Evans gave a chuckle as the pilot spoke into his ear. “Coming up by the drop zone, Cap.”
Steve punched the button to lower the ramp before he grabbed his helmet.
“You know, I think it’s cute. You’re like a regular, normal couple.”  Evans said, and Steve turned to him as he fastened the straps on his helmet.
“That’s because we are normal.” He replied, a little louder as the noise of the air blowing through the ramp surrounded them. Steve grabbed his shield and swung it onto his back, the irony of his statement making him smile even more as he walked towards the end of the ramp.
“Yeah, because most people do this type of stuff for a living.” Natasha shot after him and he turned to face her, smirking.
“Well, at least it doesn’t get boring.” He grinned, before he threw himself off the jet.
“Was he wearing a parachute?” Rollins turned to Rumlow who gave a huff of a smile.
“No. No, he wasn’t.”
Steve held his arms and hands out to the side of himself as he was free falling through the air, before he shifted, straightening his legs out below him and crossing his arms over his chest. He speared straight into the ice cold water below and, after a moment to adjust, he started swimming toward the ship, using the anchor chain to climb up onto the deck. He dropped silently over the railings and grabbed the guard who had walked past seconds before in a choke hold, rendering him unconscious as noiselessly as he could. Then he set off at a sprint and it wasn’t long before he encountered two more of the pirates. Using his shield he hit the first one and took him down then sent the vibranium weapon flying once more where it ricocheted off the hull of the boat and took down the second. He caught it and continued running around the side of the deck where he encountered another three. The first one he dispatched with a harsh kick, taking the others down with a quick leg swipe and a harsh punch to the face. The next one he saw wasn’t looking so Steve sped up and used his momentum to shoulder barge him over the side of the ship, before he launched at the next one, taking him down with a swinging choke hold. The one after had a knife, which was slightly more inconvenient, but Steve managed to disarm him and used the dagger he now had possession of to pin one of the other guards hands to the wall as he was reaching up to hit the alarm button, before knocking him out with a kick to the head.
That was how it went for the most of it. Steve ran the entire deck, taking everyone down using his shield, arms, legs, body, any means he had before anyone could raise the alarm. And he was almost home and dry, until he dispatched of what he thought was the final merc, until as he caught his shield, he heard the click of a gun right behind his head.
“Bouge pas!” The man spoke and Steve tilted his head slightly to glance at the man in his peripheral, understanding the words to mean don’t move. So he didn’t, especially not as he had just spotted Rumlow drifting down towards the deck. The STRIKE leader shot at the pirate, taking him down and landed a few feet away.
“Thanks.” Steve nodded to him.
“Yeah. You seemed pretty helpless without me.” Rumlow joked and Steve turned to see Natasha and Evans parachute down onto the deck to join them.
“So you know you said before about things not getting boring?” Natasha asked as they strode across the deck, Steve slinging his shield onto his back. “If you ever need any tips on how to keep it from getting boring in the bedroom, just ask.”
Steve shook his head and let out a groan.
“When you gonna ask her to move in with you?” Nat continued.
“Secure the engine room, then we can talk about my sex life and living arrangements.” Steve deadpanned back
“I’m multitasking” Nat sing-songed as she effortlessly hopped over a set of railings, disappearing onto the lower part of the deck.
Steve set off at a run, vaulting up a few steps, using railings to swing himself onto the higher level of the ship before he stopped just below the bridge, shooting one of Lawson’s listening devices at the windows. He listened in as Batroc instructed his men to fire the engines and then Steve retreated to a spot where he could see Batroc clearly through the window of the control bridge. Crouching down he continued to listen into their conversation, easily able to understand the French they were speaking, one of his many skills picked up in the war. It had come easy post the serum, as with everything it had enhanced his ability to memorise and grasp things like that.
Batroc was being informed by one of his officers about the radio silence from SHIELD and Steve watched carefully before Evans’ voice cut across the jabbers of French.
“Targets acquired”
“STRIKE in position” Rumlow replied.
“Natasha, what’s your status?” Steve whispered into his wrist coms, but there was no reply. “Status, Natasha?”
“Hang on!” She said loudly, and Steve waited as he heard a bit of a struggle before she spoke again twenty or so seconds later. “Engine room secure.”
That was it, they were clear to engage.
“On my mark” Steve whispered “Three. Two. One.”
With that he set off running towards the bridge, leaping up a small set off steps before he flung his shield through the window. He jumped in after it and Batroc caught him with a kick to the chest before sprinting off and kicking his way out of the door. Steve jumped up, wrenched his shield from where it had been wedged in the metal panels at the back of the control room and ran after him.
“Hostages on route to extraction.” Rumlow informed as Steve emerged onto the end of a set of steps. “Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap.” The STRIKE leader continued as Steve jumped down onto the main area of the deck. “Hostiles are still in play.”
Steve looked around before he turned on his heels and started walking “Natasha, Batroc’s on the move.” He instructed quietly into his coms. “Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages.”
There was no reply, and Steve was starting to get pissed off at her radio silence.
“Natasha!”
But then, out of nowhere Batroc flew at him with another harsh kick which sent Steve flying, and no sooner had he righted himself, there came another. The two engaged, toe to toe, fists flying, legs kicking, arms blocking and Steve had to hand it to Batroc, even after he knocked him down with his shield, the man was quickly back on his feet. Steve aimed a knee to his gut and flipped him backwards only to see Batroc effortlessly fling himself into several back flips before landing on his feet a short distance away, smirking as he eyed Steve up.
“Je croyais que tu étais plus qu'un bouclier.” He chuckled slightly and Steve cocked his head to one side, chewing over the man’s words… I thought that you were more than just a shield.
The arrogance in Steve won out and he straightened up out of his attack stance. You wanna go, fucker? Fine. Let’s dance.
He took a breath, stashing his shield on the harness round his back, and undid his chin strap, pulling his helmet off. “On va voir.” He said simply, tossing it to the floor, his eyes not once leaving Batroc’s who gave a huge grin.
They dodged for a second or two before they began to fight once more, trading punches, kicks and a few more knees to the gut before Steve threw himself up into the air, twirling his body round into a huge over-head kick, connecting his boot straight with Batroc’s head. Batroc fell to the floor and soon staggered back to his feet, but Steve didn’t give him chance to recover properly. He ran at him, spearing them both through a door, and sitting up slighting, Steve knocked Batroc out with a huge punch to the head.
He took a moment to draw his breath when a voice rang out across the room.
“Well, this is awkward.”
He looked up to see Natasha smirking at him from where she was bent over a computer.
“What are you doing?” Steve demanded as he rose to his feet.
“Backing up the hard drive. It’s a good habit to get into.”  She retorted.
Steve glanced over his shoulder, happy Batroc was still out cold, before he strode purposefully towards her.
“Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?” He drew up behind her and glanced at the screens. As it registered what she was doing he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re saving SHIELD Intel.”
“Whatever I can get my hands on.” She drawled, still tapping at the computer as she looked at him, before turning back to the screen.
“Our mission is to rescue hostages.” Steve glared at her.
“No. That’s your mission.” Natasha corrected as she finished what she was doing and pulled the pen drive out of the slot. She turned towards him and smiled causing Steve’s anger to bubble even more. “And you’ve done it beautifully.” Her tone was almost patronising as she smirked, moving to pass him.
At that, Steve felt his temper snap and he grabbed her arm stopping her in her tracks. “You just jeopardized this whole operation.”
“I think that’s overstating things.” Natasha stated calmly but before Steve had time to reply a movement caught his attention. Batroc stood up and threw a grenade at the two of them as he ran off. Steve deflected the bomb with his shield before he grabbed Natasha round the waist and hopped up onto the desks. Jumping to another one, Natasha shot out one of the glass windows into an internal office and they dived in just as the bomb exploded.
Smoke, ash and debris rained down on them and Steve gave it a second before he looked over his shoulder and out before sitting back down to take a moment. He was beyond pissed off. Pissed at Natasha and pissed at Fury for not bothering to tell him the full story.
“Okay. That one’s on me.” Natasha breathed out.
“You’re damn right.” Steve grit his teeth and pushed himself up, storming out in anger. Of course, Batroc was nowhere to be found.
**** Steve was that angry about the cluster-fuck of a mission that he didn’t speak a word to Natasha all the way home and yes, he knew it was childish, but he was getting seriously pissed off at the secrets and lies that seemed to be part and parcel of any goddamned mission Fury sent him on. Once back at base he stormed off the jet, ignoring pretty much everyone and simply barking out that they would debrief in the morning.
It was just before midnight when he got home, and as he pulled his bike up into the designated space allotted for his apartment, he noticed Katie’s car was in one of the guest spaces that lined the street. He frowned slightly, she never normally waited at his for him. Not for any particular reason other than he normally spent the hours or so after a mission debriefing before heading home to decompress for a few hours and then if it wasn’t too late he would head to hers. But the more he thought about it now he realised that he had no idea why he did it that way. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what it was like being a SHIELD operative, or that he didn’t want her at his. 
Knowing that she was there made him smile for the first time since he’d left the Lemurian Star and, despite his various aches and bruises, he found himself taking the steps to his apartment three at a time, his eagerness to see her wiping all other thoughts from his mind.
She was on the couch, bare denim-short clad legs tucked underneath her, and she looked up from the TV as he walked into the living area and leaned in the doorway, smiling softly at the sight of her, hair tousled slightly from where she had been leaning her head against the arm of the couch.
“What are you doing here?” He asked gently as she sat up.
“Decided I’d wait for you.” She shrugged “You complaining?” “Not at all.” He smiled, turning away as he unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the stools by the breakfast bar before he crossed the room.
“You had a good day?” He asked.
“Yeah.” She replied as he walked back into the lounge. “Vanity Fair have written the article already, if I’m happy with it tomorrow then it’s going to be published this month.”
Steve couldn’t help but smile at her tone. She was proud, and she had every right to be. So was he. Stark Independent Publishing LTD had taken off like a rocket and the glossy magazines were queuing up to interview the youngest Stark prodigee. She had declined all of them until the board had suggested she do one interview for Vanity Fair, along with a photoshoot in her office. She’d reluctantly agreed, but had confided in Steve she’d actually kind of enjoyed it.
“That’s fast.” he said, heading back into the room.
“Yeah they’re really pushing for it.” She smiled as he dropped besides her with a groan, lifting her legs up so they crossed his lap. As he did so he jostled the bruised ribs and muscles he’d obtained on the Lemurian Star and let out a hiss, rubbing slightly at his torso. Katie spotted this, as always, and frowned, moving her legs so she was sat up, scooting over to where he was and gently tugged at his t-shirt. He didn’t stop her as she examined the large bruise over the side of his ribs and gently ran her fingers over it.
“Ouch.” She mumbled softly, looking up at him and then tilting his face round. He knew there was a small cut on his temple but other than that and the bruise to his side he was uninjured. “Is this it?”
He nodded.
“So how did you do it this time?”
“I got blown through a window.” Because that was a perfectly normal thing for Captain America to do, Katie merely rolled her eyes and dropped a kiss to his cheek as she stood up “I’ll get the arnica and fix you something to eat”
He loved this, the way she just wanted to take care of him, but he was aware of what time it was too, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to play the dutiful housewife.
“Kitten, you should go to bed, its late.” He grabbed her hand. “Once I’ve patched you up and fed you I will.” She shrugged stubbornly, tugging gently on his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled up “Go take a shower, I’ll sort your dinner.”
This time he didn’t protest, simply smiled, dropped a kiss to her head and headed to the bathroom.
He stepped under the hot water cascading from the shower and let out a groan as it hit his body, allowing it temporarily to soothe his mind and his aches. He still couldn’t shake his annoyance at how the mission was gone. Suddenly, he was distracted by his stomach grumbling and he realised he was actually really hungry. He quickly washed off before cutting the water and stepping out, grabbing a towel. He could hear Katie in the kitchen as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom where he dried himself off and dressed in a pair of loose sweats and a grey T-shirt.
The smell of food hit his nostrils as he walked into the kitchen, making his mouth water. Her food was always good, he had no idea what he was in for tonight but he didn’t care. As he approached where she was stood, both his hands dropped to her hips and he placed a soft kiss on her neck, an easy sign of affection before he let out a heavy sigh and reached into the refrigerator.
“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” She asked, turning to look at him as he downed pretty much an entire bottle of water before he slumped down at the breakfast bar and explained everything to her. She listened, asked questions, shook her head, and when he reached the bit about the ransom she whistled slightly through her teeth, coming to the same conclusion he had when he heard the demand.
“That’s steep.” she frowned and Steve snorted.
“That’s what I said. Turns out its SHIELDS.“
The microwave finished and Katie moved to open the door, stirring whatever was in there before removing it and placing it down in front of him, along with a plate of his favourite bread. He was silent for a moment as he stirred the hot stew, Ghoulash, before taking a small mouthful to test the heat. Damned she could cook. He nodded appreciatively.
“It’s good.” “You sound surprised.”
“Behave.” He admonished, giving her a look. “You know what I think about your cooking.”
He continued to eat as she stood up and fished about in the cupboard he stored the bottle of Arnica gel she insisted he keep to hand. As he ate, she settled next to him and hitched his shirt up, gently and carefully applying the ointment to his side. The bruise extended from the middle of his rib cage to an inch or so beneath the band of his sweats.
It was relaxing, and he relished her touch and her gentle tone as she continued to talk.
“So did you get the hostages?”
“Yeah.” He nodded in between mouthfuls. “That bit was pretty easy all things considered.”
“So what’s wrong, love?”
She could tell there was more to his mood than what he had told her, and her instincts were proven right when he let out a soft sigh as she continued to rub at his side softly.
“I’m just annoyed Sweetheart.” He sighed eventually “At Fury, at Romanoff.”
“At Nat? Why?”
“She was running a separate mission, which meant the task I gave her to back Rumlow up with the hostages wasn’t done.”
“Fury?”
He nodded.
“More secrets” Katie sighed, feeling a flash of anger. “You know this is exactly why I got out…legacy or no legacy.”
“Tell me about it.” He dropped the spoon into the empty bowl. “We were lucky no one was hurt, or worse. I mean, Rumlow was great, got everyone out but, Doll, how can I lead a team when half of them are lying to me?”
“Nat was just doing as she was told.” Katie spoke softly, trying to deal with each issue one at a time.
“Since when is retrieving Intel more important than people’s lives?”
“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying don’t be so hard on her.” She reasoned, her fingers still tracing shapes on his skin. “She has a job to do, same as you. Its Fury you should be talking to about it.”
“Oh I intend to.” Steve snorted. “I’m going to go see him tomorrow morning after de-brief…”
“Well, at least you’ll get an explanation. I mean it might not be what you wanna hear but…”
She was right, of course. Pushing it from his mind, Steve concentrated on her touch as she was still gently rubbing his side. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and was disappointed when she finally finished and let his t-shirt fall down before she stood up to put the ointment away.
“You want any more to eat?” She asked, once she’d washed the arnica off her hands.
“Is there any?” He looked at her hopefully.
She smiled, nodding, and then gave a small yawn which she tried to stifle, but Steve noticed it.
“Okay, I’ll warm some more up and you’re gonna go to bed.” He said, standing up “And that’s an order.”
“Bossy bastard” She retorted. He replied simply with a raised an eyebrow and stern glare as he crossed towards her. She held her hands up, “Okay, I’m going…” She leaned up to kiss to his cheek.
“Won’t be long.” He smiled.
Steve had another bowl of food before he slipped the dishes into the dishwasher and headed to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He turned off the lights, crossed into the dark bedroom and pulled off his T-shirt, sliding into bed behind Katie. His arm curled over her waist, surprise surprise she was in one of his shirts, which did nothing to ebb his growing desire and the twitching in his groin. Hoping she wasn’t asleep, his nose gently nuzzled at her neck, and he was pleased when she responded.
He needed this. Wanted this. Wanted her.
“When you told me to go to bed…” Katie sighed, as his lips gently started their assault on that spot, “I thought you meant to sleep.” “Want me to stop?” Steve practically purred into her neck.
“Didn’t say that.” She replied, rolling her head to catch his lips as his hand crept down her inner thigh. She let out a contented sigh and he smiled against the side of her neck as he traced his fingers over her hip, hand flattening as it crept down and round to the top of her panties, his fingers slipping inside, where he found her hot, wet, ready for him. It was enough to harden him completely as he started to gently tease her, causing her to groan at the pleasure, her back arching whilst his lips continued to kiss and caress her neck.
“Steve.” She moaned softly, her tone pleading. “I want you…”
Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. Ever. 
“Yeah?” he whispered.
“Yeah. Please Stevie.” He didn’t think he’d ever be able to say no to her. His hand moved up and he gripped at her hip, gently rolling her so she was lay on her back, using his leg to part hers. He guided his shirt over her head, pulled down her panties, before he stripped off his boxers, fingers lacing in between hers, as he crawled over her, pinning both hands above her head as he worked his way into her. They both groaned as he stretched her, and she looked up at him, those eyes locking onto his as he leant down to kiss her, starting up a slow, gentle pace. He moved slowly, again and again, lips caressing hers, then her jaw, then her neck, all the time his hands wrapped around hers, causing her to surrender to him completely.
He kept up that soft, gentle pace, loving her completely. He could tell she was close, he knew the signs well enough now and as she groaned in delight, tightening around him he coaxed her, “That’s it baby girl…” lips soft on her ear.
And then she came, shuddering underneath him, her head tipping back, as she let out a gentle, low, broken moan of his name. It sent shivers down his spine and he continued to thrust through her orgasm, the tale heat spreading across his belly and then he tipped too, jerking and groaning slightly before he fell forward, burying his face in to her neck.
“Love you.” She whispered softly into his ear as her hand ran up his neck, into his hair and he gave a hum of contentment as he regained control of his senses.
“Love you too, so damned much, Sweetheart.” He rubbed his nose up against hers and she chuckled slightly as he rolled off of her. She scooted closer so she could lay her head on his chest and his arm curled round her, large hand tracing shapes on her skin at the bottom of her back as she tossed her leg over his.
“What time are you in tomorrow?” She asked gently, hand rubbing absentmindedly over his chest.
“Half nine.” He gave a sated yawn.
“We can have breakfast together, I made cinnamon rolls.” She muttered through a yawn of her own.
“That so?” “mmmhmmm”
“You know, you’d make a good little housewife.” He grinned, thinking back to his thought before. He knew her response before she had uttered it. “Fuck you.” He chuckled, dropping a kiss to her head and they both fell silent. And his last thought as he drifted off to sleep was just how her being here had made him almost forget his worries.
Katie lay still, listening to the sound of his breathing which grew even as he fell asleep, clearly exhausted. He always needed food and rest after missions, his metabolism drained him. She stole a glance up at him, long eyelashes lay against his cheek as his head lolled to the side slightly, facing her.
“Night soldier.” She whispered softly, placing a peck on his lips before settling down and succumbing to her own tiredness. ********* Katie woke the next morning, tangled in Steve’s arms, his face pressed into her neck as he’d done his usual koala impression. As gently as she could, she moved to check her phone for the time, and found it to be twenty-five past seven, five minutes before her alarm was due to go off. Cancelling it, she glanced back over at Steve who shifted onto his back, the arm that had been thrown around her gently resting on his chest. Smiling, she climbed out of bed deciding to leave him to sleep as long as she could.
Considering what a light sleeper he normally was, Steve didn’t stir when Katie returned following her shower and was still out of it when she finished dressing so she unset the alarm on his bedside clock and headed to the kitchen. She put on a fresh pot of coffee, threw the fresh rolls she had made the previous day into the oven and settled down on his couch, flipping on the TV whilst she quickly scanned through her phone, looking at her schedule for the day. She only had one meeting in the afternoon, and it wasn’t important so she fired an email through to her PA asking her to reschedule.
At about eight-fifteen, there was still no sign of Steve so Katie headed through to the bedroom to wake him up. Any longer and he would be late for his debrief. He was lay side on, facing her side of the bed so she dropped next to him…
Something was tickling his nose, right on the bridge. He gently sniffed, and then soft lips met his. Again, again…Steve made a completely involuntary noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh as he realised his girl was kissing him awake, before her lips met his and this time he gently responded.
“Hey.” That soft voice greeted him and he smiled, gently cracking an eye open and meeting that emerald green.
“Morning” He said groggily and she smiled.
“It’s almost eight-fifteen.”
He frowned, that was late. “My alarm didn’t wake me?” “I turned it off, sorry-not-sorry” She said with a tone so blasé it made him chuckle “You needed the rest.” She gave him a soft kiss again “There’s coffee in the kitchen and breakfast is ready.” “You know I could get used to this” He rolled over so he was on his back as she rose from the bed. “Coming home to a ready-made dinner, waking up to ready-made breakfast before I go to work. And you.” “Nice to see which one of those is your priority.” She teased over her shoulder as she left him to it.
“Always you, Doll.” he murmured with a smile. But as he lay still for another few minutes, he thought about it more and more. Over the past four months, other than when they were away either on missions or business trips they had spent every night together, either at his or hers but last night, something had felt different to him, more intimate. She’d taken care of his mission injuries, cooked for him, made love to him, and now here she was making him breakfast before she would wave him off to work later on. It was almost normal, what people with mundane nine to five jobs did. And he realised he wanted that all the time, he wanted to come home, find her there, wake up with her, every single day.
“When you gonna ask her to move in?” Natasha’s voice popped back into his head.
If he was honest, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought, it wasn’t something people did back in his time before marriage. But times were different, hell he was different, and as he lay there contemplating it, he realised, it wasn’t such a bad idea.
When he headed through, Katie was sat at the kitchen table, laptop fired up, mobile glued to her ear.
“I know!” Her tone was one of utter excitement. “I mean I didn’t think they would turn out so good…or they’d be done so fast but they’re pushing for this month’s edition…”
He dropped a kiss to her neck and glanced at the screen, pausing when he saw the image. It must have been one of the photos done whilst she was in New York and as he looked at it, he felt his mouth drop open. His girl was stood against a wall in her office in the tower, one leg bent, high heeled foot raised back against the flat surface behind her, palms splayed either side of her thighs as she looked to the right. Her hair was pulled back in a slick, high pony tail, her make-up was heavier than normal and utterly flawless, and she was dressed in a grey charcoal pinstripe suit which cinched in at her waist, with a low cut white blouse underneath.
“Yeah, I know Tony.” She continued speaking into the phone as she glanced up and saw the expression on his face. She pressed a button on the keyboard and it flipped to another picture, this one of her sat in her chair, legs apart, elbows resting on her knees, as she looked beyond the camera, laughing at something. She looked absolutely fucking stunning. His eyes roved the image on the digital copy of the article and he began to read the writing that was next to it.
There are a lot of things you might absolutely hate about Katie Stark. Aged just twenty-nine she has more money than anyone could possibly wish to spend in a life-time, looks and a figure that you would kill for, and a Super Soldier Boyfriend with a jawline that seems to be carved from marble. However, after thirty seconds in her company despite wanting to hate her for all of the above, it was simply impossible not to like her.
Unassuming, accommodating, and with a smile that you simply can’t help but return, she welcomed us into her office and was remarkably humble about the entire thing, admitting that she still wasn’t quite so sure why we were so interested in her. We took the time to grill her on how the first three months of Stark Independent Publishing LTD has gone and what we can look forward to in the future.
Katie stood up and gestured for him to sit down and carry on reading the article. She headed off into the living room, continuing her call, so he read as he ate a hot cinnamon bun. The article ploughed through a load of questions about the book that had launched the business when they published, the fact the company had already registered over fifty-percent first quarter turnover, where she thought the business was going, future pipeline projects, her favourite authors, genre, books, previous role in Stark Industries before she had spent a few years working for a Government Agency following the Battle of New York (no mention of Supernova or SHIELD) and then the final paragraph took a personal turn.
When asked if she would indulge us with a personal question she sighed slightly before grinning and telling us to ask and see if she answered. So we did…
“We know that you’re a notoriously private person, in comparison to your brother anyway, but most of our readers are dying to know…what’s it like dating Captain America?”
“No idea, I’m dating Steve Rogers.” She replied immediately, a faint flush hitting her cheeks as she spoke, all the time fiddling with a delicate yet gorgeous antique looking emerald ring which sits on her right hand, a gift we suspect from the man in question. When asked to elaborate slightly, she bit her lip and simply smiled before explaining; “Steve isn’t just Captain America. There’s more to him than a shield. He’s the kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever met and he makes me unbelievably happy.” The blush spread from her cheeks to her ears “And that’s not down to the Serum or outfit, it’s just who he is. The fact he’s 6ft2, drop dead gorgeous with a smile I’d happily die for is a bonus.”
Steve felt himself grin as he read the words and glanced at the small photo they had framed the paragraph round. It was the shot of them together that had been taken at the Stark Industry’s New Year’s Gala as they danced. His eyes continued to the final part of the article, this one complete with a picture of Katie and Tony. Katie sat at her desk as Tony leaned over, looking at something on the computer screen. 
When asked about the other man in her life, her brother Tony, she smiled again, another genuine smile, the love she has for her elder sibling evident on her face and in her voice.
“I owe everything I have to Tony. He brought me up from the age of seven, gave me absolute, unconditional love and opportunities I know I was extremely fortunate to have. People have a pre-conceived image of what he is like, and sometimes he can play into that, but to me he’s been nothing but loving and supportive, my father and brother rolled into one and I can’t thank him enough for everything he has done and given me. He backed my decision to open SIP from the off and believed in me and has always pushed me to be the best I can be.”
We couldn’t resist another personal question, so we asked her a little cheekily how Tony had reacted to news that she was dating one of his fellow Avengers, who had served alongside their Father Howard in WW2. Hesitating slightly, she flushed before smirking and answering, a grin on her face.
“How he found out wasn’t ideal, but once he realised we were serious, he was fine about it. I think deep down after my last car crash of a relationship, he’s just happy I’m with someone who puts me first.”
“Do they get on?” At that she laughed. “They have a love-hate relationship. In that they hate the fact they love one another. Tony has these ridiculous nicknames for Steve and he can be an absolute nightmare at times, but to be fair Steve’s quite sarcastic himself too but I know full well that they have each other’s six and, even though they would probably deny it, they are quite close and would miss one another if they weren’t around.”
Steve, grudgingly, had to admit she was right. Tony could be a pain in the ass at times, but he would miss the billionaire if he wasn’t there. Underneath all his bravado he knew that he thought the world of his sister and, despite their initial meeting whereby Steve frankly thought the guy was a dick, he’d fast learnt during the Chitauri Battle that underneath that persona he had a heart of gold and was more like his father than he would care to admit. A fact that Steve was even more convinced of having gotten to know him much better on a personal level over the last two years or so.
Whilst the siblings certainly share a lot of attributes, both good looking, tough, hard-working, Katie has a certain softness to her edges and we challenge anyone who spends time in her company not to warm to the youngest Stark. Stark Independent Publishing has, in our opinion, a very bright future ahead of it whilst it is spearheaded by such an astute and shrewd business woman and we wish her all the best.
“What do you think?” Katie watched as Steve read the article, leaning against the wall, nibbling at her thumb, nervous to see his reaction.
Steve jerked his head round and smiled at her. “I think it’s fantastic. The photos are stunning, the article is well written. Are you happy with it?” “Yeah.” she nodded as she walked over to his chair, standing behind it and slipping her arms round his shoulders from behind “They wouldn’t drop the whole So you’re dating Captain America angle though, so our PR department told me to answer a few personal questions to shut them up. Are you ok with it?” Steve smiled and turned side on in his seat, pulling her into his lap. “Seeing as I’m the kindest, gentlest, most caring man you’ve ever met how could I not be?” “I meant every word of that.” She smiled, rubbing her nose against his.
“I know baby.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Now I need to go or I’m gonna be late.”
Sighing she stood up as he did the same, grabbing a final cinnamon bun from the plate.
“I’ll be back at mine” She informed him as she walked to the door with him, “I have a few calls to do this morning.” “I’ll come over when I’m done.” He smiled. “And maybe we can do something this afternoon?”
“Sounds perfect”
***** Chapter 14
**Original Posting**
92 notes · View notes
squidlyskeet · 3 years
Text
Joy Ride -.006
Tumblr media
Pairing: StreetRacer!Bakugou x Fem!reader
Genre: TokyoDrift!au, Noquirks!au
Status: Ongoing
TW: Violence, Blood, firearms, eventual nsfw, 18+, mentions of anxiety and OCD disorders, grand theft auto, gang activity, eventual soft yandere Bakugou.
Tumblr media
Summary:
It started with a simple question. “What do you say Y/n? You coming?”
After the sudden death of her mother, Y/n is sent to live with her estranged aunt who made a home in Tokyo, Japan. Weary of what this new adventure might mean for her future, Y/n lets loose for her first night there, but how was Y/n supposed to know it would lead to a car chase? A car chase in the passenger seat of a very angry, very hot, street racer’s super car.
A/n: Bold Italics means the words are spoken in Japanese. -Squidlyskeet ✌🏻✌🏻
Tumblr media
💥Bakugou’s POV💥
     I parked the car on the road in front of Noels house. I’d been there a few times over the years to meet with Mirio about different jobs and organizing patrols. I was happy that I could finally just get this part of the night done and over with, but sighed heavily as I remembered what the next part of my night would consist of.
  I’d probably have to walk on eggshells to avoid a bullet to the head where Mirio and I were going.
  I looked over to where Y/N was curled up in my passenger seat. I didn’t want to wake her up, after all she did mention that she just got off a plane this morning. She must be exhausted with jet lag and the events of today. I was also hesitant to try and remove her from the seat and attempt to carry her inside. I was already frustrated with myself for allowing her sweet nature to somehow affect me the way it did, and I didn’t want to make it worse by literally touching her.
  And god forbid she wakes up and catches me trying to carry her. Or Mirio. I’d never live it down, and that’s unacceptable. I couldn’t have people thinking I was going soft, or worse that I was going soft for some dumb girl.
Maybe I should just open the door and kick her out.
Nah, that’s douch-
  “What the fuck are you doing man?” Mirio’s voice was directly outside my window and I jumped, whipping my head to the side and preparing to throw my body in front of Y/n’s.
   I could feel my blood pressure rise when I realized it was just the overgrown oaf, and my face flushed with anger at the intrusion while I was trying to focus.
  I was pissed he caught me overthinking about carrying Y/n inside too.
 “Nothing you baboon idiot.” I whisper screamed back, trying to keep the peacefully sleeping Y/n undisturbed.
   She seemed to be full of curious questions, and the last thing I needed was her asking where I was headed in some kind of dumb attempt to feign worry about me. I also just didn’t want to have to lie to her, she seemed so..free and pure. Free of the darkness that wrapped around and tainted my life with an endless string of one complication after the next. One death after the next. One lonely night after the next.
  I felt like if I lied to her about something, even after only knowing her for this short period of time, I’d sully her innocence. Darken that lightness that she let shine so brightly for me tonight. That’s why I couldn’t see her in anything but passing again after this, I couldn’t risk letting myself dwell on the stir she created in my stomach. I had to leave at least one thing in my life untainted.
  I growled at my own thoughts, not understanding why I couldn’t just let this sappy shit go. It wasn’t like she was some kind of friend to me, hell I’d only known her for one night.
  That didn’t change the fact that she had gotten a reaction out of me anyways, even being the irrelevant extra she is.
  “Alright then, let me grab Y/n and go give Noel a kiss goodbye and I’ll be back out so we can go.” Mirio replied, unphased by my obvious disrespect to him.
 It never irritated him, and it got under my skin. Usually this kind of shit would progress when we were together, and it would get to the point where Mirio and I would spar into the late hours of the night. Each of us trying to prove something to the other.
  He that I couldn’t push people around whenever I wanted to get what I want, and I that even if it was still fifty fifty between us, that I could still wipe the floor with his oversized ass. Even if it was only half the time.
 “Tch. Whatever.” I replied, watching from the corner of my eye as he rounded the car and quietly opened Y/n’s door.
 He gently picked her up, one arm behind her back and the other under her knees. I had to suppress a growl, words that I knew would only cause problems threatening to spew out my mouth like word vomit.
 I was mad at myself, had I known she was such a heavy damn sleeper I would have just done it myself when I first got here.
  My eyes laser focused when he stood straight and Y/n’s limp sleeping body -my hoodie still draped over her- almost slipped from his hand around her back and I jumped. I knew logically that I was still in the driver's seat and could do nothing if he actually did drop her. That didn’t stop the irritation at myself for not just doing it myself, where I could make sure she made it safely inside.
  He quickly adjusted his hold, and frowned.
 “What’s the matter with you dumbass, be careful with her.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and he raised his brows at me.
 “I was, she is just sleeping like a rock. I wasn’t expecting her to flop around like a noodle. Man she must have been tired,” He started laughing quietly, shaking his head as he turned and started walking inside. He paused, turning his head to the side to say something else, voice suddenly serious. “Start my car for me.”
  More code terms.
 I sent him an okay sign, and forced thoughts of Y/n out of my mind. Trying to get into the headspace I needed, I got to work.
  I waited until the door shut behind Mirio to exit the car. I knew she was sleeping but I wanted to make absolutely certain Y/n didn’t see anything.
  I swung my door open and rounded the car to the trunk, I looked around before opening it, and then opening the false bottom.
 When someone from the Side Riders said ‘start my car’ they didn’t really mean for you to start their car. In fact it was considered disrespectful to get in the driver's seat of someone else’s ride, let alone start it. What it really meant was to make sure you're locked and loaded, ready to defend yourself and your territory.
  It was meant as a way to let your squad know that you didn’t know what you were rolling into, coded to make sure no one caught on that whoever was riding with you was strapped to the teeth with weapons.
 I sighed as I looked down at the cubby beneath the false bottom, debating on what gun I’d use in case things went south. I knew I should pick something small, but before I could even try to convince myself, my hand was reaching for the heavy fire power of the automatic rifle.
  I held the box of ammo when I heard the door open again. I quickly held the gun out of sight when I looked up, sighing in relief to find it was only Mirio. I could tell he was switching his mindset to work mode, the usual warmth of his features melting into a dark, unforgiving grimace. The cold emotionless depths of his eyes was an expression I was familiar with. I stared at it everyday in the mirror.
  “You strapped?” The wording reminded me of when he asked if Y/n was strapped correctly into my passenger seat. She was, I checked. Eight times.
 My chest warmed, thinking of her struggling to get the damn things unbuckled.
*a/n: it’s safe to say everything from this point on will be spoken in Japanese without bold italics*
 I sighed at the memory, because, this time he was talking about weapons.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” I replied, as I finished loading the rifle and closed the trunk.
 His only acknowledgement was a flick of his wrist as he started toward his car. I made my way back to my own, opening the door and placing the gun barrel down on my passenger seat floor.
 I hadn’t noticed before when I was in the car, but after getting out and then back in it hit me full force. It smelled like her. I tried not to think about how the smell of vanilla and lavender tea left a haze clouding my mind. I also refused to acknowledge the deep breaths I was taking while I pushed in the clutch and pressed the start button on the dash.
  We started our engines at the same time, usually the sound did nothing but bring me peace and excitement. This time though, I cringed. The force of the cars starting shook the ground with a deep rumble, and I glanced at the house making sure no lights flicked on.
  When I was sure she was still passed out, I fiddled with the screen on my dash, putting on some music and waiting for Mirio to pull off the road ahead of me.
  I had a thought then and allowed self indulge, even for just a moment.
How did that song she put on go?
I hummed it to myself, as I tried to remember the English words.
 Oh, yeah.
I typed it into the search bar and pressed play.
  The deep soothing beats pumped from my speakers as Mirio finally pulled away from the curb.
 I followed him, unsure of what exactly we were getting ourselves into but ready for anything.
————————————————————————-
   Thirty minutes later, after Monoma joined us somewhere along the way, we pulled into an open parking lot surrounded by abandoned warehouses on all sides. My guard immediately went up as I followed Mirio to the already parked cars sitting in the middle.
 All of them blacked out and all of them with a red rose emblem on the side.
Except one.
 The gaudy car in the middle seemed so out of place with all the rides built for racing surrounding it. While ours were expensive, they were built for racing. This one was built for the rich, made to sit in the lap of luxury and look good doing it.
  It was a show, put on to try and intimidate us but I refused. The fact that they would even try had rage building under my skin, and it was almost unbearable to contain when I noticed the men of the Yakuza leaning against their hoods, all with a weapon of some sort.
  I pulled up and parked next to Mirio, Monoma following me and doing the same. I looked through our windows asking Mirio a silent question, he shook his no. I was mad, but I trusted his judgement and quietly accepted as I released my grip on the stock of the rifle.
  I opened my door and got out, I made a show of a leisure walk. Hands behind my head and a smirk on my face, I knew without looking that both Mirio and Monoma flanked my left and right sides. No matter the smallest of differences or rivalry’s, brothers never step to their enemies alone.
 “Well? Where is he?” I asked, my tone coming out a lot more relaxed than I felt.
 One of the men nodded his head at whoever was in the passenger seat. I tried to see if it was him, but I couldn’t see past the tinted windows.
  A man stepped out of the drivers, rounding the car to the back seat facing us. The boss’s bodyguard. Shoji Mezo. A towering man, muscles stacked on each other like a brick wall.
 Man, I hope he said something stupid. I’d love to take a crack at him.
  He pulled open the door, and to my surprise, a heeled foot stepped out onto the pavement first. My mood instantly darkened when I realized who it was. Why was this bitch everywhere tonight?
 “Hello Katsu.” Her greeting was a soft purr as she addressed me with the nickname she gave me all those years ago. I felt my face twist into a sneer before I forced myself to relax as she stepped out of the car fully.
  She had changed out her red ensemble from earlier tonight into some gaudy sparkly evening dress, if you could call it that, that is. The fabric hugged her curves tightly, and asymmetrical cut outs flaunted most of her tanned unblemished skin.
 I was happy to find I didn’t have a reaction to it anymore.
 This was just another one of his dramatics, a way for the boss to try and exert some kind of nonexistent dominance of me. I couldn’t let it get to me.
“It’s been a long time hasn’t it Katsu? You’re looking extra delicious tonight..” Her sickly sweet voice dripped with sarcasm.
  It disgusted me that for two long years, I let that same condescending tone lead me around like a lost puppy. Now that I had been out of the relationship for a year, I could see where I went wrong. I let her soft words and her curves distract me from her actions.
 “Camie.” I greeted back with a slight bow of my head, keeping my voice cold and detached.
 “Camie darling, what have I told you about playing with the help.” A deep voice called from behind her.
 “Oh Tenny baby, it’s nothing to worry about, I was just having some fun.” She replied, as she worked her acting skills on the Boss getting out of the car.
 “Bakugou, Togata, Monoma. How are my favorite squad leaders tonight?” He asked, a false pretense at friendship.
 Tenya Iida.
 Leader and boss of the Tokyo Yakuza, and squad leader of the South Side Riders.
  He wore a three piece pinstripe suit, and expensive loafers. His face was tense and his strong jawline was clenched, which proved my point further at his false friendliness.
 “Boss.” The three of us said in unison. A deeper bow given by all of us.
  I hated saying the word out loud or admitting that he was above me in any way. To not show respect though, would result in an immediate death execution style. While I was more than willing to put Iida in his place, I couldn’t do much with my only defense still sitting on my passenger seat floor.
 “Does anyone want to tell me why you are here tonight?” He spoke up again, not acknowledging our greeting.
I guess we were getting right into it.
None of us answered.
All of us knew better than to assume.
 It really lit a fire under my ass that I had to stand here and act like the man standing before me was some kind of royalty. He was my age for christ’s sake.
“No one has anything? Let me break it down for you then,��� He started toward us, clearing the space between the gap in a few strides before stopping in front of Mirio. “Tonight while you trash we’re out in your little race cars, having a pissing match on who is the fastest one of my warehouses was raided.” He said, his expression one of complete calm.
We still didn’t speak up.
  While I knew I couldn’t say anything, I never let my gaze leave his face. Silently challenging his authority with my uninterrupted glare.
“No one has anything to say then?” His arms raised in amusement as he turned back around to address his men. “Did you hear that guys? No one has anything to say.” He was laughing as he said it.
  Before he whipped his body around, his arm flying through the air with his fist clenched. It landed on Mirio’s face with a sickening crack. He didn’t knock the man over, no I don’t think Iida could even if he wanted to. While it was a hard hit, his form was sloppy and wasn’t well placed. Mirio’s probably taken more painful hits from Noel, if I’m being honest.
  I did my best to hide my snicker that escaped at the thought.
 “I’m sorry? Was there something you wanted to say Bakugou?” He addressed me then, blank features finally cracking into a sneer.
  “Well I-.” I was cut off abruptly when another one of Iida’s fists came flying at my face.
  I saw it coming from a mile away, but had to stand there and take it as I didn’t want an entire team of trained henchmen actively trying to murder me.
  I was right when I said it was a hard hit. His fist made contact with my right eye socket, and it sent my head flying backwards. Pain instantly throbbed through my skull, but I’d die before I ever let it show to this dumpster fire.
 Mirio had the same idea as he didn’t even hold his nose that was currently gushing blood.
“What about you Monoma? Care to explain?” He asked the third member of our group, who, like an obedient dog, lowered his eyes and kept silent.
 I wanted to scoff but the thought of being on the receiving end of another hit right to the eye kept the sound inside my throat. Iida nodded his head and backed up a few paces, talking to all of us at once.
 “If I find out that you little street rats had something to do with this, especially if your little dick measuring contest was being shut down as some kind of distraction,” He cracked his knuckles before rubbing them, letting me know that the punches probably hurt him just as bad as us. “I’ll kill you and every single member of your families.”
 He paused before looking back up at me.
 “I also want that car painted Bakugou, you were on the news tonight. Making headlines in that god awful orange machine you call a car. I want it parked back at the shop and it better not fucking move again until it’s a different color. I can’t have the police after us every fucking time an orange sports car was spotting going 200mph plus.” I gritted my teeth at his words.
 Who in the fuck did this extra think he was. The orange was practically a fucking trademark, I was about to let loose on him when he smirked.
He could tell I was struggling to keep my mouth shut. Just like him though, he had to add the gasoline to my already burning hot inferno.
 “Also..Bakugou?,” He stopped walking back to his car to turn to me one more time. “Who was that adorable little thing in the Nav seat you had with you?”
Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t fucking react Katsuki.
 “Just some Nav Hoe who wanted a good time.” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. My heart thundered in my chest.
 He knew he had me, but all he did was smirk and grab Camie by the waist while getting into his car.
  Iida popped back around the door, his features cold and distant, expecting full attention.
 “I forgot to mention I have a job for you in a few days, if one of my patrons doesn’t fork up twenty thousand by then.” He flicked his wrist in dismissal.
  Shoji slammed the door shut behind them, and got into the driver's seat. The rest of the men followed suit, a chorus of doors slamming and motors starting.
  I held my breath until the last of the cars rumbled away from us. Not one of us moved until the opulent parade was out of sight.
“FUCKK.” I screamed, pulling at my hair and finally releasing the breath I held inside.
“Shit man. Shit shit shit. Noel is gonna kill me. Like literally slaughter me. That was her only stipulation. That Y/n was to go unnoticed.” Mirio’s own hands were carding through his blonde tresses as he started pacing back and forth.
 “That’s really what you guys are worried about?” Monoma finally spoke up, his usual taunting features pinched tight in concern.
  “He’s onto us. He fucking saw straight through that little plan you put together Mirio.” Monoma added.
 “He’s only suspicious, so just calm the hell down you psycho. If he would have known for sure, we would be dead right now.” I shot back at him.
“We stick to the plan. We’ll keep taking down his warehouses. We just have to figure out a way to do it without looking so obvious next time. We’ll try something else other than staging a race. There Has to be other ways” Mirio was arguing with himself more than us, but it pissed me off nonetheless.
 “Why’d you even fucking bring Y/n to that stupid race, Mirio. You knew it would get shut down in the first place. You were the one who called the damn race chasers.” I yelled at him, needing to take some frustrations and place the blame before it exploded inside me.
 “Her mom just died. She literally just hopped off a plane from across the country this morning. Noel and I just wanted to cheer her up a little. How the hell were we supposed to know it would turn into this,” He stopped pacing and turned to face me, fists clenched. He was obviously pissed too. “And if you wanna start throwing around accusations, why the hell did you fucking agree to let her be your Navigator?” Mirio’s teeth were clenched while he pointed a finger at me.
 “Hey guys-“ Monoma tried to cut in before I shoved his skinny frame to the side, pointing back into Mirio’s face.
“Shouldn’t she be mourning or something then rather than be at an illegal race? I tried not allowing her into the car, but Kaminari threatened to call Tenya if I didn't,” My anger was reaching a peak, but I tried to keep it under wraps. “I couldn’t exactly explain to him why that would have been a bad idea, seeing as we literally had plans for the police to shut down the race. Why didn’t you just make her get out of the car? You were standing right there. You could’ve just taken over and forced her to stay. YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO BE CHASED DOWN BY A HELICOPTER, AND YOU LET HER COME ANYWAYS YOU DUMB FUCK.” I screamed, I was trying to keep my cool but panic was gripping my throat.
   I knew I needed to calm down before it got out of hand, but the thought of Tenya Iida taking an interest in Y/n had me entirely on edge.
  “Well I couldn’t exactly throw tradition to the wind in front of an entire outfit of Riders Bakugou, the south side was watching. If I had given her the exception it would have caused Iida to notice her,” He stepped closer to me, face to face. “Which fucking reminds me.”
 “WHAT A FAT FUCKING LOAD OF GOOD THAT DI-,” My sentence was cut off by a flying fist to the face.
   Unlike Tenya Iida’s, Mirio’s perfectly formed uppercut had my entire body flying backwards. This hit hurt a lot more than the sissy punishment Iida tried to dole out.
  “Son of a bitch-that hurt.” I groaned, holding my nose that thankfully still felt unbroken. The blood gushing from it was an entirely different story, as it flooded my nostrils and dripped onto my shirt.
  “That’s for putting Y/n’s life at risk. You probably scared the little chick half to death.” Mirio explained.
   I almost smirked, thinking back to the thousand watt smile stretched across her beautiful face as I pushed my car a little harder than I felt like I ever had. Experimenting to see if her smile would grow if I went faster. It did.
  I huffed as I just sat my ass right on the ground. Mirio and Monoma followed suit shortly afterward, I could feel the tension leave my body as exhaustion creeped in. I could fall asleep right here on the ground if they would let me. I knew they wouldn’t though. If for no other reason than because I had orders to paint my car.
   I turned to look back at it, she needed body work after tonight’s escapades. So at least I could fix those. It caused a pang of hurt to flow through me. I painted it orange for a reason, my mom loved the color. It was her favorite and while she hated that I followed in her footsteps, especially when she found out I’d be a squad leader, she loved my car. Sometimes I’d go to the home she was in and take her out on a Sunday stroll.
  How would anyone recognize me? How would Y/n recognize me? I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t see her personally again but how would she know it was me, passing her on the street, or watching me race.
   I growled. I wouldn’t give up the orange entirely, but I’d still follow orders.
 “So what do we do now?” Monoma spoke up again, trying to find a solution for our very real, very big problem.
 “Well, obviously throwing the race did no good to try and prove that we had nothing to do with the warehouse raids. I figured that if he saw we were at a race, and that it was shut down and covered by the news he would see that we were too busy to be leaking information to the police. Or that he’d come to his own conclusion, and he was still suspicious, as he very well should be, but he doesn’t need to know that.” Mirio said, rubbing his chin in thought.
 “We’ll regroup and come up with a better plan when we are all not dead on our feet. We all just need to shower and get some sleep, we’ll figure out a new plan afterwards,” I stated, effectively shutting down the conversation with no reluctance from the peanut gallery. “What are we going to do about Y/n? He’s obviously noticed her, and he’ll try something. If not for anything else but to get under my- our skin. He doesn’t know why, but he knows she’s important.” I continued, this was one topic that we had to make a plan for as soon as possible.
   “Well you know I have close eyes on Noel all the time, I have her with me almost constantly, and when I don’t I have my men follow her. She doesn’t know the last part so don’t say anything, but we’ll need something like that with her. I’d do it myself, but I already have my hands full with Noel. There aren’t many other people I trust with something like this.” Mirio’s example was perfect, we’ll assign her an escort.
  Another term used by the Riders. Essentially a bodyguard that protects, with just a few more duties than what that job usually consists of. Making sure they know where the person is at all times, being their own personal driver, running errands if they need it, and in worst case scenarios, slaughtering potential threats.
   Usually you could tell which of the Riders were escorts and which ones weren’t. The Riders who had names on the passenger seat headrests were the ones to look out for. It was a way to let others know they had someone they’d kill for, and wouldn’t hesitate to do so if the need for it arose.
  The job was usually only taken up officially by the Riders who had significant others, being their escort and doing so willingly and happily. It was a tiring job, one that demanded constant vigilance and a lot of times undivided attention. I’d know, I did it for Camie for two years, before I caught her on her knees with a mouth full of Tenya Iida that is.
      The sudden hurt I felt as the memory flashed in my head surprised me. I hated the feeling and anger flashed in my heart just as it did back then when I walked in on it. It wasn’t Camie per se that caused my hurt, it was more the fact that I’d put aside my hostility for someone. I’d practically dedicated my life to someone, spending all my time, my money, and my sanity trying to please another person, only for them to turn around and pull some shady bullshit like that?
  The spending money part wasn’t necessarily a rule you had to follow, but Riders made obscene amounts of money racing, and doing jobs for the Yakuza. Riders had a tendency to spend a lot of money, unafraid to blow thousands on their rides, why wouldn’t they do so on the person important enough to them that they would be their escort.
 “I do the same with Kendo, so I can’t offer up my services with her either.” Monoma’s words brought me back to reality, and away from thoughts of remembering the hell that was being Camies escort.
 “What about Amajiki?” Mirio said.
  I immediately felt my temper flare again, thinking back to when Y/n asked me if I thought Amajiki would let her be his Navigator. My mind shut it down almost as quickly as I shut her down.
 “You’re gonna entrust her care with that shaking leaf of a man? Not to mention that he’s rolled two cars in the last year?” I questioned the burly man sitting next to me.
 “You’re right, he wouldn’t know what to do. How about anyone on your squad?” He inquired, still deep in thought.
  My brain picked out all the people I would even consider letting Y/n be protected by. Only three came to mind.
 Kirishima, Deku, and Sero, maybe if you squinted Shoto.
  Kirishima was immediately out, as he was waiting to escort someone else. A tiny little foreign girl who worked at a bakery or something.
 Deku was the same, he had Ochako.
 Sero, once I thought it over, was out too. He was a playboy, and while I trusted him on my squad I had no intention of letting him near Y/n.
  Shoto was a no too, only because the thought of seeing her in his passenger seat made me want to skin that half and half bastard to an unrecognizable degree.
 I shook my head in denial at his question, and my mouth moved before I could stop the words from coming out
 “I’ll do it.”
   Mirio choked on his spit and whipped his head to me, his shell shocked expression giving away his surprise.
 “What?”
 “Did I stutter? I said I’ll do it. I’ll be Y/n’s escort.” I said, holding in my accusations that he was trying to imply that I wasn’t capable.
 “Are you sure? I mean after Camie and all-” Mirio started.
 “Y/n isn’t Camie. And we aren’t together. So it makes no fucking difference,” I heaved myself off the ground, walking back to my car with my hands in my pockets. “It’s settled then. I’ll have Kaminari and Shinsou fill in temporarily until I get this fucking car painted and get some sleep.” I said over my shoulder, noticing that both men were on their way back to their own.
“You better take care of her Bakugou, I’ll kill you if you don’t.” I heard Mirio yell to me as he paused before getting into his car.
 I nodded my head in acknowledgment sliding into my own drivers seat.
  I didn’t say anything out loud, but I silently agreed that if I didn’t I’d let him kill me.
  I started my car and looked over to the empty headrest of the passenger seat.
This was such a bad idea.
————————————————
Taglist: @thatonegeekchick @nightlygiggless @garnet-redtailedhero
-Squidlyskeet 👀🙃❤️✨👑
83 notes · View notes
clunelover · 3 years
Text
Okay so more details about seeing Maria Bamford:
We met at a downtown Starbucks. I was worried she and I wouldn’t find or recognize each other but there was almost nobody in there and I saw her right away.
I had bought myself an iced coffee so I wouldn’t just be standing around, but when she got there she said that she wanted to buy me a coffee in exchange for listening, so she got herself a coffee and a gift card for me which was very sweet and unnecessary but hey, NOW I HAVE A GIFT CARD FROM MARIA BAMFORD whaaaat!
We sat outside and she asked me questions about what I do for work and stuff. It was just so surreal to be sitting and talking with her that I totally forgot a bunch of stuff I wanted to say to her - like, we both have Bipolar II and intrusive thoughts type OCD and I was going to mention this but forgot. I also forgot to tell her how much I love her work but I suppose that was implied. Probably okay that I forgot because I came off as a normal person and not a rabid, gushing fan.
I had messaged her to ask if I could bring Jeremy and she didn’t reply so I assumed that was a no. But she said she didn’t see it until right before coming over and that would be fine, so I said he worked really nearby and could come right over so she said that was fine, and he did.
She looks in person just how she looks on screen. Blonde and very skinny. She had a big five subject notebook with her that seemed to be just full of writing, and she glanced at it a few times before getting started. She seemed quite nervous, very shaky hands. I’ve never actually seen her perform live, but my sister has and she said she was anxious and shaky on stage, too.
It was a little odd for a few reasons - she was talking to the two of us and so it felt sort of like a conversation but of course it wasn’t really. Had to hold myself back from replying to her sometimes. She was also very quiet so we were leaned way forward to try to hear her. There were some guys who got into a verbal altercation and were shouting at each other from down the block so a couple times we had to wait for them to quiet down. That was kind of funny too though, one of them told the other “I’m gonna get my nephew to come down here and beat the shit out of you” which was almost charmingly specific.
For the most part nobody paid us any mind - people were either busy on their way to work, or had other shit going on like the guys who were fighting. But one guy did stop by and said hi and that he had replied about doing a 1-1 but not in time and he hoped it was fun for us and helpful to her, and good luck with the shows. He seemed like a nice guy. So that was cool.
The jokes were very funny, but not enough to like guffaw most of the time, but a few of them really did make me laugh All The Way (I have a very loud laugh that people enjoy but also tease me about sometimes and it doesn’t come out unless something is really hilarious).
Idk if it’s okay to say what the jokes were although she said they were exactly the ones she was going to do at her show…some of the best ones were about her mom, who recently died, and I guess decided to do ayahuasca to try to get less scared of death (but ultimately was too scared to do the ayahuasca) and if you’ve heard her routines where she does an impression of her mother, it was mind boggling to imagine her even thinking to try that.
I’ll just say one more that I really liked - she was talking about suicidal ideation and how when you call the suicide hotline there’s usually a wait, so she has learned who else you can call if you need something sooner - and she said she got an operator [or receptionist at her doctor’s office? I forget, she mentioned both] to tell her he loved her - she asked him, “could you still love someone if you found out they were in a truly terrifying amount of debt” and he said “sure…I guess.” Idk you’d have to hear it, it was very funny.
She did at least an hour of material for us, and then thanked us profusely and let us get that picture I posted.
Since seeing her, I am feeling more inspired creatively! It hasn’t actually led to anything but I’m coming up with more ideas for the thing I want to write drawing parallels between Succession and Peep Show, so that’s something! Anyway it was a really cool once in a lifetime experience and I’m glad I jumped on it and decided to skip two meetings at work in order to do it.
12 notes · View notes
jazy3 · 3 years
Text
Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X1 & 17X2
MAJOR SPOILERS!!!
My mind is blown! I am shook! Never in a million years did I ever expect that we would see McDreamy again! Or that Meredith and Derek would be reunited like this. Oh my god. I literally can’t even. I think this might be the best season opener Grey’s Anatomy has ever done. Hands down. They came to play and they did not mess around. I thought something was off when they showed the opening sequence with Meredith on the beach because the pier walkway was way too long, but I never expected the surprise to be what it was.
The implication at the end of the episode is that Meredith has contracted COVID-19, is currently unresponsive, and will be battling this for the foreseeable future. I’m interested to see if that is in fact the case or if it’s something else. I did not believe that she was going to be the character that got it so I am super shocked and surprised. As some eagle eyed fans noticed over the summer the IMDB page for Grey’s Anatomy was updated recently with the appearance dates of many of the original cast members being updated to 2020.
I have to admit when I first saw that I didn’t think much of it because Season 16 overlapped between the years 2019 and 2020 and since they mentioned and used archival footage of past characters during seasons 15 and 16 my initial thought was that the actor’s profiles were updated to reflect this for contract reasons. But now that the McDreamy Derek Shephard himself has reappeared anything is possible my friends!
Literally anything and I am so glad. It looks like there are more dream sequences and possible afterlife sequences to come. My guess is that more of Meredith’s deceased loved ones will appear on that beach. I’d love to see George, Mark, Lexie, Ellis Grey, Doc the dog the list goes on. I’d also love to see Cristina, Alex, Izzie, Callie, Arizona, and April all make appearances either through dream sequences or over Zoom.
I’m also wondering if they’re going to have Meredith code and then do a reprise of the elevator hallway sequence where the elevator doors open and Meredith’s dead loved ones and important people in her life greet her and tell her it’s only temporary and she’ll back in the land of the living soon. Oh gosh. What if they have Ellis tell her she’s extraordinary?!?! Now I’m crying! She so deserves to hear that! Oh my gosh. The possibilities are endless.
The Station 19 episode wasn’t much of a cross over to be honest and I’m okay with that. My best friend and I watched it for context, but you could have totally gotten everything you needed to know just by watching Grey’s and those are the cross overs I prefer. In the Station 19 episode we got some additional Bailey and Ben content (always nice) and we learned how the kids who wound up with third degree burns became injured. That’s it really.
Richard had some snaps in this episode! He had all the best lines in my opinion! He was hilarious. His exchanges with Bailey and Catherine were hilarious. It’s great to see him back on his feet and throwing zingers. Bailey was a boss ass bitch in this episode. I loved it! She laid down the law and I thought they did a really good job of showing subtly how the COVID situation is impacting her because of her OCD. I really liked that they wrapped up DeLuca’s storyline because as long time readers will know I was not a fan of his mental health storyline and the last two seasons have really made me hate his character.
I thought they did a good job wrapping that up giving the confines of COVID, both real and fictional, and that we got closure there. At this point they’ve wrapped up his storyline to the point that DeLuca is back to being a side character and just another doctor who works in the hospital and for that I am glad. A fun little aside, when DeLuca asks Meredith if there is a specific patient she wants him to check on she tells him to check on the patient in room 1702 which is the episode number.
I was a bit disappointed that we didn’t get as many Meredith and Hayes scenes as I would have liked. Hayes wasn’t in the first half of the premiere at all and his scenes with Meredith in the second half were briefer than I would have liked. However, that might be because they weren’t able to film scenes with the actor before COVID shut everything down so I am hoping that we will see more scenes between him and Meredith, especially him at her bedside, going forward now that both actors are full time regular cast members.
I really loved the scenes that we did get. They felt authentic and natural. That natural comradery that the actors have was there in full force. We got to learn more about both characters quarantine situations with regards to their kids and we got to learn a bit more about Hayes’ past and their developing relationship which was nice. Also I really want to hear that story he alluded to about hoping an electric fence as a teenager to see his girlfriend. I loved the aside where Meredith commented that his mask was falling apart and he told her that he gave his new one to a nurse who needed it more than he did. He’s so caring and compassionate and kind I just want to reach through the screen and hug him.
Meredith deserves someone in her life who is kind like that and who thinks of others the way she does. Who puts the job and her patients and her kids first over everything else. Who gets it and thinks nothing of showing that kind of compassion. She’s never really been with anyone like that before. No one who was a doctor anyway. I also thought it was very significant that Hayes invited Meredith to have a drink with him in his office after work and then was the one that found her in the parking lot at the end of the episode.
This appears to be a call back to the fact that he asked her out for a drink at the end of last season and she accepted, but asked that they do a rain check because she was so exhausted and the fact that they are growing closer and he wanted to check in with her and see how she was doing. The fact that he was the one to discover her I think is also very significant because at the end there I felt liked he looked towards her car to see if she was there to talk to her or to see if she’d gone home and I love that he was looking out for her in that way.
Also, the fact that he was the one to find her and call for help and that led into a dream sequence where she was reunited with Derek the love of her life feels very significant. The fact that Hayes calls out to Meredith and tells her to stay with him, in the present and in the land of the living, and then that transitions into the dream sequence where Derek is calling out to her on the beach feels significant to me. 
My best friend that I watch with commented that she could see them doing a scene where Derek tells Meredith it’s okay to move on and fall in love again the way Abigail did with Cormac in the flashbacks we saw in the Conference episode last season. And that based on that Meredith makes the decision to formally move on and actively pursue something with Hayes now that she knows she has Derek’s blessing and that her ex DeLuca is doing okay and is back to work.
I think both of those things could free her to truly give Hayes a chance and build a life with him. He’s really the only post-Derek love interest for me who really checks all the boxes and who I could see her building a life with in a way that would respectfully honour what her and Derek had. It also just occurred to me that because they established that both Meredith and Hayes are quarantining at hotels because of their COVID work and are away from their kids there’s a potential storyline there in that once Meredith is better they could quarantine together and spend some sexy time alone without breaking any of the necessary restrictions. I’d love to see them quarantine together.
Something else that I realized after watching is that the episode establishes that Amelia and Link are quarantining at Meredith’s house with Scout, Zola, Bailey, and Ellis and that Maggie has been coming by to watch and visit with the kids from a safe distance while Meredith has been quarantining at a hotel because she’s working COVID command. The fact that they set this up early on in the episode becomes important later when you realize that something is wrong with Meredith and she’ll be hospitalized for a while and could die so it sets it up that her kids are okay because they’ve got Amelia, Link, and Maggie, people that Meredith trusts, looking after them.
Also we find out that Meredith’s house has a backyard for the first time! So that’s neat. Maggie and Winston are officially the cutest! I love them! I’m calling it now they’re endgame. They’re soulmates. I thought at first the long distance thing was going to be super boring and dull, but they found a way to make it really sexy and fun and I love that! We finally found out what Amelia and Link named their baby! As many had predicted they named the baby Scout! His full name is Scout Derek Shepherd Lincoln! My heart! Derek would be so so proud of Amelia. She’s come so far. I loved the scene with Meredith, Amelia, Link, and Scout. I really felt like that was missing from the Season 16 finale so I’m glad we got to see it in flashback.
About the only thing we didn’t get to see in this episode that I would have liked to have seen is a scene with Richard and Meredith catching up and either operating or treating a patient together. They haven’t had as much time together recently and I’ve missed that. Although considering that Meredith is about to hospitalized I’m guessing were about to see a whole lot of that. We did get to see Jackson spending lots of quality time with Richard and we got to see Maggie stand up for him with Catherine this episode so that was nice. This episode changed my mind about Catherine and Richard. 
At the end of last season I really wanted them to separate and go their separate ways because I felt like they were bringing out the worse in each other and that was the only way they could find peace. But this episode we saw Catherine apologize really apologize and she made Richard Chief of Chiefs to make up for what she did and I thought there reconciliation was really quite sweet. Teddy and Owen wowza. Teddy was god awful and a terrible human being this episode. I was completely on her side last season, but this episode changed that for me. I hate Owen as a character most of the time, but damn if this episode didn’t make me feel for him. Oh boy. Teddy lied straight to his face multiple times when given the opportunity to tell the truth.
I don’t think there’s any way that they can come back from that personally. Which is a shame because for the first time in the show’s run Owen is single and is not hung up on someone else. Cristina is in Switzerland living her best life. She’s happy. That’s long over. Amelia is with Link. They have a child together. Her and Owen are happily co-parenting Leo and there’s no way that Owen, horrible as he can be, would do anything at this point to split Amelia and Link up or come between them because that would mean separating Scout from his father and having lost his Dad at a young age Owen would never knowingly do that to someone else’s child. At least I don’t think he would.
Plus, he got what he wanted in that he did get to parent Betty and Leo with Amelia and they still share in the parenting of Leo. I also thought there was a good call back there to when Owen cheated on Cristina. I hated that plot, but it’s nice to see them acknowledge his relationship with Cristina because it was so instrumental to the show in those early seasons. I’m glad that we got a reference to Amelia and Owen co-parenting Leo because I feel like that’s been missing lately. I get that Teddy is scared of being happy, but the way she treated Owen was just horrible. She was so awful to him in this episode I actually felt sorry for the guy and that is truly a miraculous feat because I rarely do because of how horribly he treats all of the women in his life.
Side note: His line where he told his Mom to tell Leo that the broccoli and carrots needed to be reunited in his stomach was both hilarious and horrifying! I loved Owen’s lines and how he kind of played Teddy while giving her opportunities to tell him the truth. I thought that was hilarious in a funny not funny kind of way. I’m curious to see what Teddy, Owen, and Tom’s storylines will be going forward. We didn’t see a lot of Tom in this episode and at the end he was fired and demoted to being a Neurosurgeon. There’s no indication of him and Teddy getting back together so I’m curious to see what they do with him.
Owen seems 100% done with Teddy and her nonsense and at this point I can’t blame him. I would be too. I’m interested to see where this goes. Will Owen end up with someone else? Will he stay single and continue on as a single parent? What will happen to Teddy? I’m starting to really like Levi as a character I have to say. Nico not so much. He treats Levi horribly and the guy deserves so much better. I loved seeing the intern from Pac North who called Bailey an icon last season checking temperatures. Amazing.
Richard’s idea on how to sanitize the masks with the purple light was really cool. I loved the moments between him and Bailey. I get why she’s worried about him, but as Richard says Grey Sloan is his life. It’s his longest and most successful relationship and as he says he will find no peace without it. Bailey and Ben have my whole heart. They are so cute. They’re the best. I loved the small moment that they had at the beginning of the episode where Ben did the “going through the motions” count with her because he knows it helps her. It was also a great call back to Jo teaching that to Bailey after she got out of treatment.
Also oh my god Jo and Jackson! Wow! I have to say when I saw fans speculating about that online before the show came back I thought it was the dumbest idea ever. One, because those two characters rarely have scenes together and aren’t that close. And two, Jackson has Harriet and is a single parent. Jo has been decidedly luke warm on the idea of having kids. She only considered it because of her relationship with Alex. That being said, after this episode I could go for it. I liked the twist that she went to Jackson and asked him for a favour and they were going to hook up and have a one night stand and then Jo got drunk on the way over and wound up crying because she wasn’t ready.
I have a feeling that they’re going to have them go back to being friends for the time being and then pick that storyline up later when Jo’s had a chance to heal possibly in the second half of the season. I also like that they wrapped up the storyline between Jackson and Vic and that we got to see Harriet for the first time in forever! Yeah! Vic isn’t ready or wiling to be a step parent and I liked that they established that Jackson needs to be with someone long term that is. Jo isn’t at that stage yet, but at least she’s open to the idea and has been married and had a successful adult relationship with someone in the past. Jackson’s been married, divorced, lost a child, and is raising a child.
With time and proper communication I think they could actually be a great pairing. Never thought I’d say that. Not wanting to be a parent is part of what broke Jackson and Vic up in the first place. They never addressed the issue with Maggie, but in retrospect that was never going to work out because Maggie is so involved with Meredith’s kids. They’re her main focus kid wise. We should have known that they weren’t going to work out when they failed to address that.
With April what broke them up was her devote faith and his complete lack of belief coupled with the different ways they dealt with the death of Samuel. While I did like April and Jackson as a couple I was happy with April’s write off in the sense that she got to be with someone who shares her faith and dealt with the trauma of losing someone close to them in a similar way. Her and Jackson never had that. Jackson found God in the wake of almost losing April, but by that point it was too late.
The damage was down. There was nothing either of them could do to repair what had been broken. With Jo he has the opportunity to start anew and lay all of that out on the table and vice versa. Although I imagine that the conversation Meredith would have with Alex about that would be pretty weird. I thought they did a really good job of showing the realities of COVID in hospitals right now. What the disease does, how deadly it can be, and how hard it is on all the health care workers and first responders. 
I have family members and friends who work in health care and it’s a scary time. Levi’s comment that they had lost 100 people in one day and that he’d had to tell 100 people’s family members that their loved one had died was chilling. It’s also real. This is not something they are sensationalizing for the sake of television. This is really happening to real people everywhere and it is heartbreaking.
In this episode we saw Meredith have her first breakdown in quite some time. The last one I can remember was after Derek died and that was a while ago. She was upset that so many of her patients had died and I’m sure that reality is something that a lot of healthcare workers are going through right now. This episode felt raw in a lot of ways because of that and I’m glad that a show that has worked so hard to reflect the realities of our time is taking the time to honour and showcase that.
Also I think having Meredith Grey the show’s titular character and star for over 16 seasons potentially contract COVID and collapse from working too hard and not taking her own advice is the ultimate example of it can happen to anyone and anyone can get it. The show did not have to go as hard as it did, but they did and they delivered and I respect the hell out of that. The tagline for this season is “Sometimes we all need saving.” Apparently they were being literal about that as that includes Meredith freaking Grey. What a twist!
I honestly believe that this will be the show’s last season. Because when I look at the storylines and the ways in which they’ve set up the characters starting with last season I can see where they could go with it and how they would wrap everyone’s storylines up in a satisfactory way. Plus I don’t think they’ll ever be able to top this season and it’s opener. Also we’ve got main cast members coming back because those actors are normally so busy they’ll probably never get another opportunity like this to bring them back and they’d be foolish not to take it.
The promo for next week teases more scenes with McDreamy (!!!), Meredith battling COVID literally, and Hayes visiting her in her hospital room. I’m excited!
Until next time!
70 notes · View notes
atsunflower · 4 years
Text
Hospital for souls — Tokyo nights.
Tumblr media
Rated: SFW
Author note: Man, this one took me ages to write. And I don't even know how I could write this much for the second chapter, this is about 3,2k words. I'm tired because I decided to change lots of things in this chapter and I hope you all like it. Also, feedbacks are much appreciated!
Warnings: This chapter contains cursing, swearing, graphic descriptions of blood, violence and surgical procedures (Kind of inaccurate but only for writting purposes. Don't do it at home, kids). Also, there are slight mentions of anxiety, OCD and PTSD.
Enjoy the reading!
II — Tokyo nights
Previous || Next
You felt anxious.
Everytime you walked through Itachiyama halls, the hairs in your nape would stand and your skin, prickle in fear; a bitter taste would take over your mouth because everything was too much.
"Look, you don't have to worry. Itachiyama wouldn't dare to lay a hand on you because it would mean war." The memory of Suna's voice did nothing to soothe your nerves.
You knew that Inarizaki did not care. If anything, Itachiyama harming you would be like killing two birds with a stone: the Miya would get rid of your existence and then, have a excuse to go after your husband. "They know the twins' intentions, you know. It's not like Sakusa is dumb. Being honest, the guy is the most cautious man I ever saw" you recalled Suna saying it in your wedding's eve.
But one month after the deal, you still felt suffocated.
You opted to lay low and don't wander around the house; Sakusa's men were still suspicious of you and kept sending nasty glares in your direction whenever they saw you.
Since you weren't allowed to work anymore, boredom was killing you. At least, the maids were nice enough — or just too afraid to go against the lady's will — and let you do as you pleased. You then took over some house chores to busy yourself.
Cleaning, tidying and baking.
Sometimes gardening when you needed some fresh air.
"What a shame for Oyabun-sama, his lady is lowering herself to the peasants' level" you would hear some gossip here and there. Not that you cared, though.
"Sakusa-sama" you heard the housekeeper calling, the new name still foreign to your ears.
"Kaede-san? Do you need something?" The old woman wearing a green hakama stood in front of you, accompanied by a girl with dark blond hair.
"This is Kuribayashi Runa, the new maid working here" she said presenting the young woman by her side. The latter politely bowed at you.
"New maid? Why?"
"I'm afraid it's not appropriated the lady take care of house chores. These are strict orders from Komori-sama" her tone was dry. Kaede was never hostile towards you, but you could tell she wasn't fond of your presence either. "Also, remember you're having lunch with oyabun-sama today"
You released a shaky breath, dismissing their presence.
Why yakuza was taking even the smallest things from you?
Tumblr media
Prying to the clock on the nightstand, you realized it was past noon and the lunch hasn't been served yet. Sakusa didn't show up either.
After being destitute of your duties, you went for a shower and killed time by reading in your bedroom.
Did something happen? You wondered.
Punctuality was something very fancied in this household and everything inside the mansion functioned like clockwork.
But how come Sakusa didn't show up yet? Why the food isn't set?
"[Name]" The door to your bedroom was open without ceremony, Komori's voice sounding harsh when he called you. The look on his face wasn't amicable either. "Sakusa wants to see you. Now."
The brown haired male did not spare you another glance, turning his back to you. You followed the tall man in an auto-pilot mode, already dreading whatever was going on.
The Kobun was taking you to Sakusa's office.
The large doors always made you feel unsettled; you never were there before. Being called to this room sent shivers down your spine.
Komori knocked the door only to the faint voice of your husband acknowledge your presence. Getting in, you were stunned. The whole mansion held a modern architecture with a minimalist design, and this room was true to Itachiyama's style.
The walls were pristine white and the floorboards were dark and shiny. The furniture held the impersonal style your husband seemed to appreciate and was clean to the eyes. Everything millimetrically positioned, aesthetically appealing.
By the glass wall, Sakusa stood proud. His back facing you, body clad in a black suit. The way he admired the stunning land through the windows held a power you never saw before.
Right now, he looked like a god rulling his own creation.
"Komori, go" his stone cold voice ordered the other male. The kobun did as he was told, leaving you two in this sinister room.
"I don't know if you are too brave ou just too dumb" he didn't turn to face you. The cold tone boomed loud within your ears and you felt cornered.
Forget the god thing. The man in front of you was the demon himself.
"What do you mean?" You asked, brows furrowing when suddenly, his enraged features loomed over you, even from afar.
"Don't fucking play dumb. I've warned you to stay out of my way" his menacing stare made the breath hitch in your throat "Where is the fucking folder?"
"I don't know what are you talking about!" You meekly replied, seeing his body growing close to yours.
"Thats it. You have a death wish." He merely stated "You're the only enemy inside this fucking house"
Without knowing what was going on, you didn't stand a chance to defend yourself. You tried opening your mouth in protest but your brain didn't come up with anything.
"Listen. I don't have the time to play whatever game you and those brothers of yours are planning." Sakusa scowled "In the first opportunity, you get to screw up. Fascinating."
"I don't even know what you're talking about" the cry left your mouth and your body trembled. The man before you grimaced at your outburst. He let out an exasperated breath, still trying to keep his cool.
"Do you expect me to believe you? Fine, I'll play along, then" He sat at the imposing chair behind his desk "The manila folder that was on this desk was stolen. You're the only one inside this house who has reasons to take it."
"It wasn't me! I never entered this room before!" You retorted, anxiety crawling in your skin. He fished his cellphone from his pockets, reading whatever on his screen
"Can't be proven, though it looks like we didn't find anything in your stuff–"
"Wait! You fucking messed with my things?" You cut him off in rage, observing him reaching over for a flask on the wooden surface.
"Well, you messed with mine first." He said while rubbing some hand sanitizer on his palms.
You rolled your eyes at his antics.
"Whatever" and then turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" The sarcastic voice filled your ears, making your steps to halt "As much as I despise it, you won't be out of my sight anytime soon"
God, You trully hated it here.
Tumblr media
It was nighttime and true to his words, neither Sakusa nor Komori left you alone for the whole day.
Their presence was unnerving, to say the least, and everytime they talked to each other, you body went stiff.
Their speech wasn't explicit as you thought it would be. Both of them treated the matter as if they were making normal business instead of some yakuza stuff.
It didn't sound violent.
But you knew better.
"Have Fukuroudani made contact yet?" The Oyabun asked.
"Yes. Konoha told me they will be waiting by eleven" Komori peered at his watch "One hour to go. We should get going, then"
Sakusa turned his attention to you.
"Go get changed. We're leaving in ten minutes."
You did as you were told; black would do, you decided. Grabbing a wool coat and a satin scarf, you were ready to go.
Why the hell Tokyo nights were so cold at this time of year?
In the living room, Sakusa and Komori were waiting for you.
"Man, bringing [Name] along will be a pain" the brown haired male said while stretching.
"The stolen docs were about this meeting. We gotta bring her along if Inarizaki tries to do something" The taller one reasoned.
"Ah shit, this is so fucked up. I dont know how you agreed to it" Komori lamented.
Being honest, neither Sakusa did.
"Why do I have to tag along?" Your voice startled them. Your husband scowled at you while Komori opened the front door, both males ignoring your question.
A sleek black car was waiting for you three. Komori took the driver seat and Sakusa sat on passenger's side. You found comfort in the beige leather of the backseat, appreciating the warmth provided by the air conditioned.
"Shouldn't we bring more men with us?" The Kobun asked.
"There's a back up car in downtown. They can reach us in no time if something comes up" Sakusa said while covering his face with a mask "Also, I doubt someone would dare to mess with both Fukurodani and Itachiyama" He spared a glance at you through the rearview mirror.
You sighed. Anxiety didn't let you be for the whole day and now, fear was taking its toll on you.
With your temple resting on the window, you observed the city lights.
You loved Tokyo and how bright it was, although, you loved the suburbs even more; the industrial aesthetic and the narrow streets brought you the comfort you didn't feel in the last three months.
You lived here for your whole life, after all.
It wasn't a surprise when you spotted the building you used to live in.
A surge of homesickness found its place in your guts and your chest constricted in longing.
The drive lasted five more minutes before Komori parked the car by a hangar. When you lived in this neighbourhood, the place was deem abandoned with its vandalized walls and rusty gates. But inside there, you found our the interior was really neat, proving you wrong.
"Sakusa-san, Komori-san!" A blonde male came into view, eyeing you with wariness. "I see you brought your lady tonight. It's a pleasure having you here, miss" the indifferent tone of his voice said otherwise, tough.
You merely noded at him while the heads of Itachiyama greeted the man.
"Shall we start, then?"The blond asked before opening a door to your right. You felt unsettled knowing they wouldn't want your presence there.
"As you wish, Konoha-san" was all Sakusa said while a woman appeared out of nowhere.
"I'm afraid your wife would be pretty bored in our meeting. Yukie here will keep her company for the time being." The man Konoha pointed at the brunette with short hair. Sakusa sent you a hard stare before entering the room.
You both sat on some wooden boxes filled with god knows what. You eyes wandered through the hole place, trying to find something entertaining.
The woman hadn't said anything for a whole eternity before breaking the silence.
"So, Miya-san, huh?" The way she said the damned name tickled you off.
"I'm no Miya"
"Yeah, I know. I've heard of you" Yukie chuckled, looking at you with despise. You cocked a brow ate her.
"Sure you did" She was about to retort before the door was open again.
"Well, it's always a pleasure to make business with Itachiyama. We will see you off, then" Konoha said before reaching for the exit.
It was long past midnight when the meeting ended. The five of you were by the gates, Konoha and Komori doing some chit-chat, when four people appeared out of nowhere, knives in their hands.
"Ara, ara. look at these yakuza big shots" A man with an undercut said, fidgeting with the blade between his fingers. In your periferic vision you saw Yukie running back to the hangar and the three men by your side reaching for the guns by their hips.
Among the other four, a figure seemed familiar to you.
"Kuribayashi Runa" The name left your lips in a whisper. The female let out a mocking laugh and Sakusa frowned at you.
"Explain" Your husband immediatelly demanded, grimacing.
"She is the new maid working in your house. Today was her first day." Runa scoffed at your reply.
"Do I look like a maid to you, bitch?" And then, everything went into slow motion.
The woman came in your direction, holding the knife high in the air whilst you stepped backwards, being cornered by the gate.
You saw the blade glinting under the street lights and saw it aiming for your chest.
But it never came.
A hand pushed you downwards and you fell to the ground along a clattering sound. Sakusa's shadow loomed over you, trying to evade the knife.
By your left, you saw Konoha and Komori fighting the other guys, their guns useless in a hand-to-hand fight.
The adrenaline rushed through your bloodstream, your mind going frantic. It felt like one of those life or death situations you faced in the surgery room.
How can I save someone's life right now?
You saw Sakusa's pistol laying on the ground next to you. He and the woman were a couple of inches from your body.
You knew what you had to do.
With your leg reaching forward, you made her trip. The knife she held was kicked away by your husband.
"Sakusa! Watch out for Komori!" And you threw the gun at him.
A second too late, the bang echoed and an agonizing scream ripped through the night.
By your left, Runa and two of the guys were already running away.
The man Komori fought collapsed to the ground clutching his leg and cursing under his breath.
But the most disturbing sight was the way Komori held his arm, whimpering and cursing while his right hand clutched the knife's handle.
The blade tore his flesh and crossed the limb right next to its joint, in a weird angle.
Yukie came back, carrying a rope and a pistol.
"I sent some of our men to their direction." She said while helping Konoha to restrain the guy who attacked you.
"What the fuck you guys want?" The blond asked before kicking the man in his guts. The latter spat blood, giving a crooked smile at Konoha.
"Johzenji is coming" Was all he said before passing out.
"Yukie, carry him to the basement." He ordered "Since it happened on our territory, we will be investigating the incident. We count with Itachiyama's cooperation and will keep you updated" Konoha bowed at Sakusa, before rushing back to the building.
Komori was still on his knees, head hanging low. A grunt went past his lips and you knew what he was doing.
"Komori! Don't!" But again your shout came too late and the man ripped the knife away from his limb. Blood rushed through his fingers and dampened the suit he wore. "Fuck" you rushed to his side, Sakusa's features going livid.
"We gotta take him to a hospital" you said.
"No!" Komori croaked out, getting a hold of your arm. You knew what he meant, but you also knew what could definetely happen if he ignored the situation.
Sakusa was frozen in front of you two, unsure of what to do. You took a deep breath, mustering up all the courage you had.
"You have to trust me, then" you held the brown haired male by his torso and gave Sakusa a determined glare.
The oyabun noded at you and it was all the assurance you needed before ripping out Komori's blazer and transforming your scarf into a tourniquet.
Tumblr media
In your old apartment, you ushered the two males inside, taking them both to your kitchen.
Sakusa sat the Kobun in a chair while you went to another room. A minute later, you brought two metallic cases, some flasks and a first aid box.
In the cupboards you took a flask of alcohol and squeezed it to the table, wipping it with some gauzes.
Positioning Komori's arm over the wooden surface, you sterilized his wounds with povidone and then turned your attention to Sakusa.
"I'll start it now" before proceeding to the sink. Sakusa admired the movements you made while washing your hands "I need you to do the same" and he complied.
The male helped you to put the gloves and mask on and to set your instruments over the table.
Looking at Komori, you realized he passed out in spite of the pain. The blood loss wasn't huge, but you did not knew why he fell unconcious.
You prepared two syringes of anesthesics. Sakusa sent you a weird glare, brows furrowing at you.
"Don't look at me like this. I'm a surgeon you know" and then you did the infusion. "Its not that weird if I have some hospital shit at home".
You opened the cut with a scalpel. Scrutinizing at the wound, you saw the artery was hit.
"Thank god." You let out a breath of relief, realizing the damage was little. It didn't need an anastomosis, so some stiches would do. "The ulnar artery was hit but it won't be too hard to fix. Although, I can't tell if there's a nerve damage" and you started to close the vessel's lesion.
You observed if there was any muscle or tendon damages and proceeded to suture the gashes, making sure the procedure was well done. You then patched it up and imobilized the limb with a makeshift splint, before undoning the tourniquet.
"Let's take him to my bedroom" With that, you both carried the unconcious man to your bed. "I need to check him overnight and– Shit! Your face!" It was just now you realized he had a gash on his cheek.
Sakusa flinched, feeling the blood drying over his skin and dampening the mask he used. He removed the cloth and observed the cut with the front camera of his phone. He frowned at the sight.
"It can get an infection and leave a nasty scar. Do you want me to patch it up?" You offered after checking Komori's blood pressure and his heartbeat.
A please left his lips in a whisper.
You both went back to the kitchen and you used a new set of tools. Holding his face between your gloved hands, you admired his facial features.
Sakusa was pretty.
Almost ethereal with his thin nose, almond eyes and thick brows. In addition, te two moles on his forehead complimented his beauty.
You snapped out of your reverie, getting to work.
"Finished. This kind of suture won't leave a visible scar" you said cutting the thread and reinforcing the stitch with tape.
Your finger lingered a bit longer on the apple of his cheek. Sakusa grabbed your hand and held it for a while before getting away from you and settling himself on your couch. You ignored the ghost of his touch on your skin and went back to check on Komori.
That night, Sakusa realized that no one ever handled him with such care, as if he was made of fine china.
I like that touch, he decided.
Tumblr media
❥ taglist: is still open. Send an ask or use the commentary section to let me know if you want to be added!
@ukaiwachin @keekee-732 @chiibichann @shinguchi @captain-shittykawa @fortheloveofbakugo @daisyjaebae @jihoonspout @floodinginstars @fl4mepillar @trash4sportsanime @translucentthoughts @starrystanze @teaanbiss @hqxreader @sunboikyo00 @yskomiii @ly-nia @shadyjinyoung @julimausi1311 @idiot-juice-enthusiast @hyoonx23 @keuromi @differentballooncollection @re-zerohora @onigiriimiya @ayaeushi @wolfiepirate @sekshi-namjas @tomo-uwu @flodaisez @jh-bee @kemochie;
334 notes · View notes
Text
I want to share these two pages of Lee Mack’s autobiography. For context, he apparently had an actual psychologist read his book, chapter by chapter. After each chapter, he wrote an edited version of what he and the psychologist said to each other about that chapter. I initially assumed this was just a literary device, but from listening to interviews he’s done about the book, apparently he really did talk to a real psychologist and those bits between chapters really do reflect what she said about it. This psychologist told him he had ADHD, and his relationship with that information was a theme throughout the book.
The psychologist was apparently a woman, but for anonymity he named her “Brian” in the book. Here are the particular pages I want to share:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I first read this book last year, in summer 2020. When I did, this passage made me laugh so hard. I’m not surprised that Lee has had a psychologist tell him she feels protective of him. I would be surprised if she were the only person who’s told him that.
Dude. There doesn’t need to be some complex shit with your mother for that to happen. That’s just the ADHD. One of my closest friends has a truly stunning case of ADHD. A case of ADHD that can be seen from space. A case of ADHD where we can be on a phone call and he’ll be in the middle of a sentence, then stop and say, “Hey I’ll call you back.” He might call me back in five minutes. He might call me back in 24 hours. He might call me back in three weeks. But either way, when he does call me, he’ll jump right in as though our conversation was never interrupted.
I am a person with anxiety that manifests as, among other things, OCD symptoms. I am meticulous and have an excellent memory and obsessively research everything and never jump into anything unless I’ve learned all the background. My friend and I have an interesting relationship, as it mostly consists of me frantically trying to give him information before he jumps into things, and him just jumping into things.
Lee Mack and Rhod Gilbert are the two British comedians whom I know have been diagnosed with ADHD (Lee has maybe not been through an official diagnostic process, but having a psychologist read your autobiography and tell you you have ADHD is close enough to a diagnosis), and watching them both reminds me so much of my friend with ADHD. My friend lives about five hours away from me and in normal times I see him most weekends (he coaches another team in the same sport as I do, so I see him at weekly tournaments), but it’s now been just over a year since I’ve seen him in person. Watching Lee and Rhod on television genuinely makes the part of me that misses this friend feel a little better, because they remind me so much of him. The clinical inability to shut the fuck up. The way they can seem to have no idea what’s going on, and then suddenly say something brilliant and everyone looks at them and asks, “Wait, were you working on that the whole time?” The way they can think so much faster than everyone else, and sometimes that makes them look like a genius, but sometimes it means they get distracted and can’t keep track of what’s happening.
You’re God damn right, it elicits a protective instinct in people around them. Especially people who are naturally careful and anxious. The last time I saw this particular friend in person, I came out of our conversation telling another friend, “Holy fuck, I love him but sometimes I just want to wrap him tightly in blankets and feed him vegetables and ADHD medication.”
Incidentally, this is why watching Jon Richardson on a screen with Lee Mack and/or Rhod Gilbert is one of my favourite things. Watching Jon and his OCD interact with that chaotic ADHD energy reminds me so much of the in-person interactions that I miss between myself and my friend.
20 notes · View notes