#and i wanna quit my job so fucking bad but then i won’t have health insurance

[twinsfawn]

†

#my entire life blew up in the span of a few days and i’m in so much fucking pain #like i haven’t been this bad mentally in a long time #and i wanna cry/vent to someone but i also don’t because i know no one is going to understand/empathize in the way i need them to #and obviously no one is gonna fix my problems #i feel completely alone and i wanna bash my head into the wall #i was the closest to kms that i’ve ever been in my life the other night #and i know hospitalization will make me worse and i’m trying to just survive and hope that a med dose bump or rx change will help #everything is so stressful and painful and isolating and i know i have people who care about me but at the same time i feel like #i have no one #and i’m so tired of being abandoned by everyone i s2g i’m only dating people w bpd from now on bc no one else understands #and i wanna quit my job so fucking bad but then i won’t have health insurance #and i have very few irl friends bc it’s so hard to find people to relate to in my godforsaken area #in conclusion everything is horrible everyone you love will leave you #btw if anyone thinks this is about them: you’re not special enough to create this much mental turmoil in my life lmao the only other #person really involved in this is my ex #who is no different than any other person who has abandoned me and deliberately stomped on my heart #also capitalism is evil blah blah i would not be nearly this stressed if there wasn’t a ‘ #‘cost of living’ #• #one day someone will break you the way you broke me so have fun with that #i gave literally everything to you #now i have to destroy/dispose of everything you gave me bc looking at everything hurts #you didn’t even try for me #i have loved all of my past partners so much and worked so hard to understand their specific traumas and mental illnesses #and everyone else puts in like 10% effort and then gives up bc it’s ‘too hard’ #you’re nothing

[easybrainrot34]

Haikyuu boys helping u when your not in a good mental space

My mental health is in a real shit place so here is who I think would be fantastic to have around when ur not in a fun mental space. Also ignore the different spellings and grammar shit, i didn't feel like editing it

Daichi

* I feel like he has a sixth sense when it comes to people having bad mental health around him

* Like he just feels ✨the vibes✨

* He will be ur free therapist

* Or if ur not a touchy person or don’t like to talk about ur feelings he will just sit and remind u he’s here for u

* Sometimes painfully optimistic

* Just like….good dad energy

Yams

* I feel like he would be like “dude same”

* Like he’s also going through it but will prioritize u over himself (also don’t fucking do that, u matter)

* “Have u tried a weighted blanket? It was a lifesaver when I found out about them”

* He does do a good job tho of not letting u spiral

* Will get u ur favorite snacks bc he’s not quite sure what to say

Bokuto

* Oh he tries his best

* I feel like bokuto has not fantastic mental health (and the only one who reallly sees it is Akaashi)

* He is also like painfully optimistic

* Like u could be ranting about some life bs and he goes “don’t worry it will pass and life will get better!!☺️”

* U know he’s coming from a genuinely sweet place but it’s not always what you need to hear

* If you’re love, language is physical touch/you’re a very touchy person. He will cuddle the shit out of you!

* Even if you don’t wanna talk in all you need is like a hug he 👏🏻is 👏🏻there👏🏻 for 👏🏻you

* Will send u his ‘asmr that helps’ playlist that contains ‘ur gonna be ok’ and ‘helping u calm down form a panic attack’ will a text saying “it really helps, give it a chance.”

* Man will just show up at ur house too with ur fav shit

* He doesn’t care how you look or what your depression pit is at he will help you clean up and help you try to restore peace

Kenma

* Honestly this man has like a “404 error” when it comes to things like this

* He will usually let you get all your feelings out but at the same time he is digging around in his brain for what Kuroo and yaku tell him when he’s not doing good

* Prob texting kuroo or hinata asking wtf to do

* Kenma would never share any of your struggles/tea he will always be vague when asking for advice

* Sometimes if he’s really lost he will just go “have u ever talked to kuroo or Akaashi about this stuff? They r better at this then I am tbh”

* HOW FUCKIN EVER man will listen to ur every work and will always make sure u feel listened to

* If u have some bs drama going on he will recall older shit being like “wait they r still on their bullshit??”

* Overall great man to rant to

Akaashi

* He’s here for u

* He just gets it

* Not the most physically comforting person, but will make sure you are ok

* He will make sure u keep up with everything

* “R u taking ur meds?” “Make sure u eat and drink some water.” “Don’t forget to take the cups out of ur room.”

* He’s got ur back

* Along with Kenma, he won’t ever spill any of ur struggles or secrets that is no one’s business beside your own or who you tell

* Will remind u tho that he isn’t a therapist, and will suggest that you talk to one

* Will even help you find one that’s actually good

Honestly I could keep going but I feel like this already pretty long.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! #anime #mental health #daichi sawamura #daichi #Yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #kotaro bokuto #bokuto #akaashi #keiji akaashi #x reader #kenma #kenma kozume #brains proper work

[ask-darling-xoxo]

Ignore this, just wanting to vent out my frustrations

Fuck you to the people today who made my job hard and were rude for no reason, you had NO right to treat me like shit whatsoever. I don’t care if you were in a rush, tired, or in a bad mood. Don’t throw your emotions out on me, I’m just doing my job. I’m busting my ass off at this shitty ass job and every night I dread going to work the next day

You people are the reason I so desperately wanna quit my fucking job and I actually am looking for a job where I won’t have to deal with this type of environment. Also, don’t blame me for the shit that happens at the place I work. I’m not the CEO, I just work there. That’s it. I could care less about what you have to say about my job. You wanna complain? Call up the CEO/owner or whatever and spout your bullshit to them.

Yes, I’m aware I’m an employee of my work place. Yes, I am also aware of what the job description had but nowhere did it say “Have your mental health go to shit because people aren’t gonna respect you and not treat you like a human being”

#fuck this #i hate my fucking job #i could care less about that place #it could burn down for all I care #most customers who come here are terrible #some of them don’t even know basic politeness #50% of people ignore me while I’m trying to talk to them/do my job #is that an exaggeration? perhaps. but that’s how I feel #darling xoxo blog #darling is tired #darling xoxo’s thoughts

[longeyelashedtragedy]

all or nothing episode 3: stream of consciousness comments

-fuckit i have work tomorrow but i’m watching anyway...capitalism won’t keep me from the boys

-”we have to be COMPACT AND FUCKING AGGRESSIVE FROM THE BEGINNING” jeessufdhjgahdgagda;ldg mikel you need to STOP

-(mikel and granit are SO FUCKING PERFECT TOGETHER i????? i’m thinking of the interview granit did with sky sports where he’s like i’m literally not going to change my playing style, mikel must have absolutely nutted on the spot)

-i love Sports Boys and Masculinity i wanna be in their dressing room broing out so bad fffffffffff

-gender goals: happy arsenal dressing room

-mikel arteta junk in the trunk queen of north london

-okay but sad aaron post-villa is quite literally bringing tears to my eyes

-”it’s a fucking joy”

-GRANIT’S CAR OAMDFKA;JDGK;FJ;AKDG “What is this shit car?” “Brother, the best car ever” oh my god only granit could roll up in this car 

-mikel looking like a model in his conference room

-uhhh his eye color? Radiant whatever it is

-he talked to aaron’s dad on the phone!!!! o m fg my heart,,,,,

-nuno going to ikea with his mom,,,,,,stoooooppppp

-nuno is stupid beautiful it hurts a little

-ugh the leicester win SO EXCITING

-side note i always love when in the away stadiums the away dressing room just has like, some shitty folding chairs 

-kt, ben, and cedric sitting around trying to eat and mikel comes up to talk to them about memorizing phone numbers hgjksgjsgj

-it’s been like 81904914 min and we finally have edu pronouncing mikel correctly lmao

-these 2 sitting around talking about mikel’s development while he’s right there in the room...this is the biggest jewish mom vibes i’ve ever seen lmao

-holy shit kt getting real about mental health.....oh my heart wow

-”i don’t speak often man so when i speak it’s from the heart” kt ahhhh

-oh it’s the portunhol

-cut from mikel in his black turtleneck to mo, alright alright alright alright

-”don’t leave anything in that fucking pitch bc it’s a regret...i let the team down and i let myself down....and i dont want you to go through that.  so go out there and play with fucking courage and be ourselves today on that pitch. do me please only that favor.  yeah?”

-THE KLOPP FIGHT...IT’S COMING 🍿

-how are people supposed to focus when mikel’s 🍑 is fully like that 

-the way that beating liverpool is such a personal tragedy for mikel

-i don’t ever want to see mr benjamin white look that sad and defeated ever again

-NOOOO they’re all so deflated nOOOOO

-i miss granit :(

-”don’t worry about it guys because i will defend you. if anything, it’s my mistake, i will take responsibility.” 😭💔

-pep telling mikel this job is the “loneliest profession”

-“i don’t regret one bit the decisions that i make” serving really big cfk “No me arrepiento de nada de lo que hice” vibes

-”i know the fans like kt, i can feel that.  but i wil try to fight for my position, it’s not me against kieran it’s about the position” ohhh nuno 💔💔

-holy shit wait this was the game where granit unexpectedly came back...so wait his injury wasn’t even mentioned? at all? wtf?

-ohhhh shit mikel’s yelling in the dressing room!!!!! 🍿🍿🍿🍿 “you’re fucking lucky!  LU CKY!”

-granit casually fixing his socks while his bf yells

-fuck you richarlison!!

-oh shit this is when aaron comes in like “fucking embarrassing”

- “the reaction here is too late” *walks out* OMG ICE FUCKING COLD AJDKGAJDGKALJDGA;GAKGFD;LJ

-next episode: auba drama, mikel with covid cursing enthusiastically on video chat in black shortsleeves in his house, man city new years day....WHERE IS GRANIT’S RECOVERY?

#ihc watches arsenal #ihc watches all or nothing #interesting to watch this one as a both teams fan hahaha

[finelinevogue]

the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚

P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable

anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children

so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;

tw: vomiting, ppd and od

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks

Motherhood was really fucking hard.

The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.

It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.

“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.

“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.

“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.

But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.

You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.

Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.

There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.

“You two boys okay?”

You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.

“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.

“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.

“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.

His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.

“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”

Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.

“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”

“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.

“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.

“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.

“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.

“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.

The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.

Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.

You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.

You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.

There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.

Last night had been that night.

Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.

You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.

It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.

“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.

You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.

“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.

Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.

“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.

“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.

“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”

“She’s really tired all of the times.”

“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.

Hell, was he so wrong.

“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”

“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.

Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.

“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.

He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.

Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.

“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry���s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.

999

“What’s your emergency?”

“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”

The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.

Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.

It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.

Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.

You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’

“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.

“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.

“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”

“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”

“Stop yes I do I—”

“Harry please you don’t owe—”

“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.

“Harry, you don’t mean—”

“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”

“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.

“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.

“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”

“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”

“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”

“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”

“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.

Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.

“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.

“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.

“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”

You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”

“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”

“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”

Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.

“I’m proud of you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #harry styles angst #harry styles ppd #harry styles pregnancy #finelinevogue blurbs #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #i have a basic taste in men #harry styles depression #finelinevogue harry masterlist #harry styles little moments #little moments pregnancy #little moments masterlist #little moments finelinevogue #harry styles x reader depression #harry styles sad #harry styles fluff #harry styles dad angst #dad!harry

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Light in the Dark

Summary: Avoiding Bucky seemed to be the thing to do after the two of you broke up, until a mission gone wrong shows you how much you have to lose.  Pairing; Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2415 Warnings: Language, angst, canon typical gun violence, GSW, blood.  Square Filled: Post-Breakup AU for @marvelfluffbingo.  Square Filled: Second gif within the fic (Y2) for @buckybarnesbingo. [Rating: Teen/Mature]  A/N: I feel like I maybe ended another fic with a similar line? Anyway, don’t call me out, ha. Happy Reading!

GIF Source

“So, ending it. That’s what you want?”

Tears were brimming in her eyes and the lump in her throat stopped her from answering Bucky’s question. She sniffed, hoping it would stop her emotions from falling down her cheeks. One blink though, and she was betrayed. 

“It’s not what I want, Buck.” Her tone was bordering on pleading. “But you and I don’t want the same things. I want to move forward, you want to stay stuck. You won’t open up to me, you haven’t touched me in weeks — and I’m not even talking about sex. You won’t hold my hand, won’t stand within two feet of me.”

He pressed his lips to a thin line and sighed. He started with a measured tone, partial words stumbling out until he got so frustrated at his inability to form a sentence, he let out a loud growl and pounded on the table nearby. 

“You don’t get it! All right? You don’t know the things that are still in my head, you don’t know how much fear I live in, every mother fucking day, that I’m going to lose it and hurt you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, raking a vibranium hand through his hair. “This is more than you can handle, Y/N. There are days when — when I don’t wanna talk and you think things are worse than ever. That’s not always the case. Some days I just need the quiet. Everything in my head is so loud — that’s not the point. The point is, I’m not good for you.”

Her tears came to an abrupt stop. “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I don’t have demons of my own? You think the things that I have done, the lives I have taken, don’t haunt me in my sleep? At every waking moment? I see their faces, every time I close my eyes. You are not the only one with blood on your hands, Bucky Barnes.” She stood and clenched her fists at her sides. “If you think that I’m one of those agents who was bred into this because my parents were in the first wave of S.H.I.E.L.D agents, who can handle all of this and then sleep at night like it’s nothing, you don’t know me at all.”

She stepped up to him and took his face in her hands before kissing him softly. She wiped her taste away with her thumb before taking a step back. 

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

For weeks after the split, they avoided each other at all costs. If she rounded a corner and saw Bucky coming her way, she backtracked and took the long way around. If Bucky was headed to the common room but heard her singing along to the radio before he made it there, he turned on his heel and got what he needed elsewhere. Every now and then, he could bribe someone into getting what he needed, but the whole crew was running thin on that arrangement. 

“You could talk to her, you know,” Sam suggested. 

Steve nodded his agreement. “At least work out a schedule of who can be where and when. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, but hey, at least then you two can have a more normal life and the rest of us can stop making money off of your awkward situation. Besides, it’s been … how long has it been? Surely long enough for you two to be adults about the situation.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “If she wanted to talk to me, she’d come to me and say what she needed to say.”

Nat came into the room and sighed. “Not necessarily, Barnes. I’ve talked to Y/N about it and she doesn’t want to be in your way anymore than you want to be in hers. To be honest, I’m not so sure that this break-up is really worth the trouble when the two of you could just talk it out and work through your problems.”

“We wanted different things,” Bucky mumbled, “and that hasn’t changed. What I want hasn’t changed.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Her. You want her, stupid. The rest of it is called compromise. You should look it up sometime. Y/N can stop moping around, you can come back from the dim place. Everyone can be back to their normal lives.”

“The dim place?” Sam repeated. 

“Yeah, you know. Not the dark place. He’s been in the dark place. This sucks but it’s not as bad as the dark place.”

“Makes sense,” Steve commented; Bucky looked to him for confirmation that his best friend agreed with Nat. “Hey, it’s not bad advice. I mean, she's also the one who told me to ask out the chick in accounting with a lip piercing.”

Nat punched Steve playfully in the shoulder. “Hey, she was nice!”

They all laughed about the idea of a freshly-thawed Steve dating a girl with a lip piercing; Bucky had to admit, it was nice to have the attention off of him and Y/N and on to a different subject. 

Attention rescue team; emergency extraction call received. Departure in three minutes and counting. Rescue team; extraction mission imminent. Three minutes and counting. 

FRIDAY’s voice pulled most of them from a steady — or not-so-steady — sleep and into action mode. A team raced for the quinjet, in uniform and ready for a debriefing as the jet took off.  

“Secretary of State was abducted by a Russian militia organization. Our job is to go in, extract, get him home. I’m waiting now for reports on what kind of arms they have on the ground,” Tony informed as he set their destination into the navigation system. 

Y/N buckled in and let out a deep breath. Flying was something she was getting more used to, but she did better when she knew the flight was coming. Several minutes into the flight, her tension was redirected from a few bumps of turbulence to the unexpected hand on her shoulder. 

“You doing okay?” Bucky asked. 

She pulled her shoulder from his touch. “Yeah, fine. I’m always fine.”

He smirked just a little. "I know you are, but the flying …”

“I’m great, Sergeant Barnes. Just peachy.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line and he sat back in his seat. Y/N kept her eyes forward, her expression stoic, even as Tony took the jet higher. Her jaw was clenched though, giving away her nerves. Bucky decided the best thing to do would be to keep an eye on her; be supportive from a distance. 

The mission started out well enough. They located the Secretary easily — too easily, really. Nat, Wanda, and Clint went ahead of the group to keep the path clear back to the quinjet; Tony and Rhodey were on either side of the Secretary; Y/N and Steve were right behind him; Bucky brought up the rear. 

No one was quite sure where the first shots came from. The Secretary groaned and grabbed for his left shoulder as more bullets whizzed past the group. Tony and Rhodes took one arm each and flew him back to the quinjet while the rest of them went on the defensive. 

Y/N was taking a mental head count of everyone running in front of her; Nat, Wanda, Clint, Steve — check all. Where was Bucky? Emotions took over and she spoke into the comm. 

“Barnes, send back.” When no answer came, she stopped in her tracks. “Barnes! Send back!”

Still no answer. Her eyes met Steve’s for a brief second before she was turning and running the other direction, away from the rest of them. Steve was yelling behind her but she wasn’t about to stop and wait for whatever it is he had to say. As she got back to where the shooting had started, she started calling Bucky’s name. Her heart raced with frantic emotion at the million possibilities that could be keeping Bucky behind. 

A Russian militiaman was positioned over Bucky, fists flying. Bright red blood pooled under Bucky’s thighs and spurting with each heartbeat made Y/N panic that his wounds were fatal as is, without a beating on top of it. A feral yell rumbled from deep in her chest as she rushed the other man, knocking him away from Bucky and tackling him to the ground. 

Her own fists were flying now, lashing out at the man who might dare to take Bucky away from her. Somewhere in her mind, Y/N knew that getting Bucky medical attention needed to be a priority, but she couldn’t stop her anger from taking control at that moment. 

“Y/N, hey, come on! Enough!” Steve yelled, finally catching up to her. He pulled her away from the Russian, who had gone unconscious at some point. His face was bloody and mangled, but his own people would have to take care of him. 

Steve assessed Bucky’s other injuries while Y/N used her belt as a tourniquet around his leg. Between the two of them, they managed to get him back to the quinjet without much more incident; the second the were on board, Tony raised the bridge and took off. 

“What happened?” Nat questioned, helping to get Bucky laying down. She grabbed for a first aid kid and found some gauze to place over the bullet wound while Y/N threw her gloves off and took his face in her hands. 

“Bucky! Can you hear me? Look at me, Buck! You stay with us, all right? We’re going to get you back, they’re going to take care of you. But you have to fight too, you have to stay with me,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes when his eyes met hers. “Please, Bucky. You can’t leave me like this, okay? We’ve got too many days of awkward interactions ahead of us.”

Bucky’s mouth pulled into a weak smirk as his cold, shaky hand came up to her cheek. Y/N leaned into it, still pleading quietly with him not to leave her like this. 

“Everything’s okay,” Bucky whispered, only a couple of seconds before his eyes closed and his hand fell away from her face. 

Hours passed in agony as you waited outside the medical bay for any updates on Bucky’s health. She didn’t change out of her uniform, didn’t bother to get cleaned up, only followed his gurney as far as they would let her go. After that, she found a chair and fell into it, determined not to move until she had some concrete information. 

“Here,” Nat said, nudging her with an elbow. “Water and coffee. I’ll bring you food when you can stomach it.”

Y/N took the water bottle first, downed half of it, then set it aside and sipped at the coffee. She probably did need to eat, but the very idea of food make her stomach churn. Nat stayed but didn’t speak. Y/N waited a full minute before she broke the silence. 

“He was trying.”

Nat frowned. “Bucky?”

Y/N nodded. “On the quinjet. He knew I was going to be anxious about the flight and he asked if I was okay. I blew him off. I didn’t want his sympathy because I’m still so mad at him. How could he think that I was — that I couldn’t understand where he was coming from? Maybe not to the extent that it was happening, but I’m not innocent, Nat.”  She scoffed. “And how could I not be more understanding? How could I walk away from him and not show him how much I love him. How much I need him.”

“You need each other,” Nat offered. 

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

She sat silently with Nat for the next several hours. There was still no word, and no one would let them into the medical bay. Nat had finally convinced Y/N that she needed to shower when Dr. Cho came out to update them. Y/N bumped into Nat, she turned around so fast after hearing her name being called. 

Helen drew in a deep breath. “Bullet nicked his femoral artery, but fortunately, I think his advanced healing process saved his life. We did the rest of the surgical repairs and I believe if he can pull through the next couple of days, he should be in the clear.”

Both Nat and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief. The women hugged briefly before Y/N asked if she could see him. 

Helen smiled. “Of course; he’s been asking for you. We wanted to give him time to pull it together after the surgery.”

But Y/N only the first of Helen’s sentence. She raced into the medical bay, stopping once to ask which room Bucky was in. When she got there, she was nearly breathless. 

“Wondered if you were gonna come see me,” Bucky mumbled, giving her as much of a smile as he could manage. 

She stood next to his bed and took his vibranium hand. “Bucky, I’m so sorry …”

“Hey, you’re not the one who shot me.”

“Don’t joke,” Y/N scolded. “You know what I mean. I shouldn’t have walked away, shouldn’t have brushed you off in the jet. What if you hadn’t made it?”

Bucky squeezed her hand. "Hey, c’mon, sweetheart. I’m all right. I’ve been through worse than this.”

“But not with me so mad at you,” she whispered. “I don't want to do this anymore, Buck. I don't care how much we fight or how much we push each other away. I don't want to have the horrendously gigantic cloud lingering over me that one of us could die and you wouldn't know how much I love you.”

Bucky reached up to caress her cheek; this time, his hand was warm, steady. “I can't promise to give you everything you want right away. I still am who I am, Y/N. But I sure as hell can try.”

She leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Who you are is exactly who I fell in love with. Trying is all I ask.”

He pulled her in for another kiss. There would be plenty more to be discussed, when Bucky was fully on the mend and ready for it. The fights would come, the darker days would come. As long as neither of them gave up on each other, though, there would always be a light in the darkness. 

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @gifted-burnout​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​ @connie326​ @disastersoldierbucky​

Buckvember (Not already included in AotT): @peace-love-hobbitness​  @rebekahdawkins​ @wonder-cole​ 

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #buckybarnesbingo2020 #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #buckvember #buckvember queue

[whumperooni]

I'd love to be mutuals with you but now really sure how to approach you off-anon.

I've been holding off on answering this one because I'm not quite sure how to respond without coming off as rude or bitchy or grouchy or stuck up or just straight up ridiculous

So pretty please take this as a general answer for everyone wanting to be moots and not just you, okay? I promise it's nothing personal (specially since you're a nonny and idk who you are anyways)

tldr; I'm a bad moot and if you wanna be a moot it has to happen naturally

But

I'm a terrible mutual, tbh. My online presence is flaky at best and I rarely look at my dash. I'm happy to chat with my moots if they reach out and I'm happy to interact with them...but I don't really approach them and I go through long periods of time where I miss their content because a) I'm too busy to be on tumblr, b) my fixations have shifted and I don't wanna interact with stuff that's not centered on them, c) I'm feeling particularly tired and/or angry and I'm off tumblr because I know I'm going to lose my temper and lash out at someone.

I try to be nice to people and I try to keep an open mind and I really try to let people do their own thing even if it bothers me. But the thing is?

I'm not a super nice person. I have a minimal tolerance for bullshit and I have a problem with general fandom fuckery. (Like across all fandoms- not just here)

I get angry at fandom and I get angry at my dash and I get angry at myself and, honestly, my presence in fandom is more like a stray cat that wanders in when they're bored or hungry and leaves when I grow bored or irritated by whatever drama is going on that day. I'm selfish and standoffish and, honestly, jealous of a lot of things and people too.

They're not awesome qualities to have in a moot. They're not awesome qualities to have as a person. I try my best to maintain a more positive vibe but, really, it's not always strictly genuine.

And the thing is? It gets tiring trying to pretend that I'm not rolling my eyes at every post on my dash. I'm too old and tired to pretend to like people that get on my nerves. I don't follow those people. I try not to interact with them. I blacklist their tags and I'll block them if they really get under my skin.

I monitor my circle and I do it in a way that's strictly selfish. I refuse to follow someone who sends me into a rant every other day and I'll absolutely dump a mutual if seeing their posts starts to get under my skin. I've done that before and, honestly, it hurt to do that because I did enjoy their content a lot and I thought that we could actually be good friends....I just didn't enjoy them or entertain those daydreams anymore once they decided to dump me like a hot potato.

I've been on all the sides of being a moot- bestie moots, enemies to friends to moots and back to enemies, casual headcanon exchanging moots, the moot that's been dropped because the other found more popular friends + more clout, and the moot that's dropped the other because they started shit talking about things that are Extremely Personal to me and I wasn't about to deal with that.

It sucks being a moot with someone only to find out they've dumped you. And, honestly? That's a veryyyyyyyyy likely possibility when it comes to being moots with me? Which I hate because people don't deserve that and hurt feelings suck and I don't want to upset anyone if I don't have to. But the thing is? I have to monitor my experience on tumblr or I will spiral and become miserable and nuke my chances of being welcome in fandom during an inevitable, public meltdown.

And that means....well that means that things just have to happen naturally?

(God, I'm so sorry I'm rambling but I'm trying so hard to explain myself)

Like. If you come to me and you're like "I wanna be mutuals with you. I wanna be friends" then I'm going to recoil- especially if we've never interacted before. For one, something like that is supremely uncomfortable to me. How can I say no without coming off as a bitch? It feels like a trap- even if it isn't, even if it's purely just enthusiastic and sincere- and I'm a prickly, hermetic person by nature who literally talks to one person irl on a daily basis...who also happens to live with me and is my boyfriend.

I don't seek out friends. I don't seek out relationships. I don't try to make something happen when it comes to people? It just...idk man I have to let it happen naturally or eventually it's gonna blow up in my face because I will feel restless and trapped and resentful. (Even if you literally do nothing wrong. Please understand that I'm a kinda shitty person, I work two jobs and I'm always stressed, and I'm bipolar and unmedicated. Please understand that I try and I'm not using these as excuses but just stating facts- my mental and emotional state are often shit and I lash out at people once my stress becomes too much...which is often these days. That this has happened to me before and I know myself and I'm trying to be truthful and not set up any rosy expectations just to disappoint anyone)

Like...if you still wanna be a moot, all I can say is to just...interact with me? Maybe I'll check out your blog and vibe with what I see????

But there are layers and layers of why I'm Not a good moot and there are layers and layers of reasons I'm not going to follow just anybody just because I'm asked.

I...I don't know. I don't know how to end this and I don't know if this makes any sense at all or if it's too much explanation or not but...

Just...don't have any expectations when it comes to me. I'm making no promises to anyone and I'm trying to be transparent.

I won't be mutuals with someone just because they want me to be. It's gotta happen naturally or it won't happen at all.

And I am sincerely sorry if it causes hurt feelings or if it comes off as rude or mean or bitchy or something. Rejection fucking sucks, you know?

But I have to look out for my mental and emotional health and, unfortunately, that means setting boundaries and limits and monitoring my experience very carefully.

So...yeah.

I'm sorry. I know this is probably super unsatisfying and I'm deeply apologetic over it.

But...yeah. That's that and I'm going to shut up now.

(Sorry)

#uh sorry about this answer #and sorry if it doesn't make sense #please don't hate me #i'm really just trying to be honest

[actualbird]

nobody asked but here is every unraveled episode (as of may 2020) as how they’d be as a lover | a 2.5k word long post written in the style of an unraveled about unraveled and also love

Ah. Unraveled. Polygon’s golden boy of a video series where Brian David Gilbert is beckoned into a suit, lured into a blackbox studio, and is only granted escape after he has explained to three cameras whatever batshit video game adjacent thesis he has been cursed with this time. Unraveled is a wonderful video series, and we all love it.

But what if it could love us?

If you’ve ever asked this question to yourself, boy, do I have some content for you, because for the past 2 days, I’ve been working on this post where, for entirely too long, I explain to you how each Unraveled episode would be as a lover. And more importantly, which ones would be the best lovers.

Before I fall deep into this unhinged hole and take you down with me, I need to explain some things.

First: I want to make it clear that I am not categorizing BDG as he portrays himself in each Unraveled. I am instead taking each Unraveled episode as a fully formed being, the story, performance, etc, and letting that shape a character of its own. This character is where I extrapolate details from to create an Unraveled episode’s qualities as a lover. What I’m basically doing is anthropomorphizing Polygon dot com video content. And then making you date them. If this doesn’t make sense, don’t worry, it will as you read along. And if it helps you to visualize the Unraveled Episode As A Lover, I invite you to just imagine whomever it is you are most attracted to---or for those who don’t experience attraction, whomever it is you find most aesthetically pleasing---and then just add in the wild personality traits I describe through the course of this post.

Second: I know what you’re thinking. “Avian, the characteristics of what makes a good lover is subjective!” And I wholeheartedly agree. I’ve been through college, and I’ve witnessed my friends whom I love so dearly enter relationships with some of the most wack ass motherfuckers I’ve ever met. I know that people are into different things. But do I judge them for it? Well, kinda, yeah! Yes, what we want in a lover is subjective, but I’ve consumed a metric fuckton of romance media over the course of my life and am also in a wonderful relationship with my own girlfriend, and thus have my own personal idealized ranking for what makes a good lover. Feel free to disagree with my rankings of Unraveled Lovers, but also, I’m writing this post. I say this with as much love as I possibly can, but if you disagree with me, make your own post. If you don’t wanna make your own post, you’re just going to have to trust me for 2.1k more words.

With that out of the way, let me take you on a journey through the 23 Unraveled Lovers, from worst to best.

BAD TIER: I would probably advise you to break up with these Unraveled Lovers as soon as you are emotionally capable of doing so.

Hoo boy, we’re starting at the bottom. The perfectionists, the nitpickers, the emotionally unavailables. These Unraveled Lovers would have good intentions, but just have aspects within their personality that will wear you and your relationship together down until both of you can no longer take it.

“Ranking all 200+ Megaman robots” is a lover obsessed with the concept of “is this worth it?” They would unknowingly but inevitably rank parts of your own personality on a scale of ‘worth the trouble in this relationship’ and ‘not worth the trouble’. Any lover who deals with you with this kind of dichotomy is somebody you should not be with. You should be accepted and loved for all your parts, the beautiful and the ugly.

“How to make the perfect E3 press conference” is a lover who spent years consuming romance media and has a list of what makes the perfect relationship. So not only do they have unrealistic expectations for what a relationship is, but they will be obsessed with reaching that unreachable perfection. That will definitely put a strain on your relationship until the veneer of desired perfection crumbles away, leaving you both tired and sad.

On a less deep note, “How to tell apart all 596 Fire Emblem characters” just won’t remember any of the names of your friends or family. Sure, they’ll try, but they’ll give up in like 15 minutes and you’ll never be able to take this Unraveled Lover to a family reunion or a party with your friends. Probably not a dealbreaker, but as the Spice Girls said “If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.” This Unraveled Lover will not. Next.

“No one asked but I found Mortal Kombat’s best cuddler” and “I wasted 3 weeks of my life finding Castlevania’s hottest monster” are two Unraveled Lovers with a similar problem: they both won’t shut the fuck up about their exes. Mortal Kuddler constantly brings up all the other cuddles they’ve experienced and Castlevanias Hottest Monster will tell you you’re beautiful, but also bring up like 69 other monsters they think are also beautiful. This might not be a red flag, but personally, this would tire me out, always being thought of in comparison or contrast to others.

That ends the BAD TIER and brings us to the OKAY TIER where a large chunk of the Unraveled Lovers fall into, so much so that I had to create more specific sub tiers under the OKAY TIER.

So let’s get into the OKAY TIER: These Unraveleds Lovers are alright, you’ll just have a sublimely weird relationship.

These Unraveled Lovers will treat you right but they’re also just very peculiar. Nothing wrong with that at all, but I’m here to explain to you just in what ways these okayest lovers are bizarre. Let’s start with the first sub tier.

OKAY SUB TIER: College Students who are way too into their major

There are a lot of Unraveled Lovers under this subtier, and this shouldn’t surprise you, because Unraveleds are inherently nerdy. These are lovers that will be good to you but also just never fucking shut up about what it is they’re studying.

“I read all 337 books of Skyrim so that you don’t have to” and "Understanding Kingdom Hearts (and every other story" are Creative Writing majors obsessed with analyzing every single thing they read. As a Creative Writing major myself, I would advise you to never date a Creative Writing major unless you are a Creative Writing major yourself. I think that’s the only way the relationship can be ethical. Being sent essays from the New Yorker every day would be torture if you didn’t actively enjoy it.

“We made all 78 Breath of Wild recipes in one day” is a Culinary Arts major and, score, they’re gonna wanna cook for you! A lot! Beware though, because it’ll be a hit or miss on whether or not the food will be good, but you must admit, that there is nothing quite as attractive as your lover making you food (let’s just hope the food doesn’t harm you).

“Smash Bros. owes millions of dollars in OSHA violations” is going to law school and that should be a dealbreaker in itself, but I’ll be a bit lenient because they’re always working towards the safety of everybody. This Unraveled Lover will always remind you to put your seatbelt on and also tell you exactly what laws you are violating.

“Bowser’s military hierarchy” is a Political Science major, and Political Science majors scare me. So I’ll just say they’re okay, and leave it at that.

“Which Dark Souls Boss is the best manager?” is a rare non-evil Management major because they actually truly care for the welfare of employees. They just will always talk about it, even when you guys are on a date. I know worker’s rights are important, but it’s not exactly what I want to talk about in between kisses, yknow?

“I fixed Fallout’s music by creating a totally new genre” is a Music major who keeps accidentally making Ska love songs to you. You didn’t know Ska love songs could be a thing. This Unraveled Lover makes it a thing.

“Scientifically Calculating the Game of the Year” is a Math major so you will never have to worry about calculating bills because they can do it for you.

“Calculate your pet’s HP with my 100% legitimate formula” is a Veterinary Medicine major so if you’re an animal lover, this Unraveled is the one for you! Just beware, because this Unraveled Lover will also spend a lot of time observing you from afar to quantify your health points, but both of you will inexplicably find this activity strengthens your relationship.

And last but not least for this sub tier, “When can Mario retire?” is a disillusioned Accounting and Finance major who chose this line of study to get a job and, through the years, realized what a hellscape capitalism is. You may have to deal with a lot of zoning out and staring off into the distance, with this Unraveled Lover, but a lover who hates capitalism sure is a good egg.

That brings us to our next sub tier!

OKAY SUB TIER: Cultists or Conspiracy Theorists (AKA...College Students who are way too into their extracurriculars)

These Unraveled Lovers are alright! They’re just a little bit off the shits.

“Every Sonic game is blasphemous” will get really really worked up about things and probably try to start a cult. For most, that’s a definite dealbreaker, but what makes Sonic Bible an okay lover is that they eventually calm down from the cult outburst and apologize. So this Unraveled Lover will treat you well, you just have to be ready to ground them when they get a little bit bonkers.

“Solving the Zelda Timeline in 15 minutes” is very similar to Sonic Bible, except instead of starting a cult, every once in a while they’ll just sit you down on a chair and explain to you their latest obsession while slowly and intensely stripping. Which, hey, that could make for a fun night, if you’re into that kinda stuff! Definitely okay in my book.

That brings us to our last okay sub tier.

OKAY SUB TIER: Your Unraveled Lover might need to schedule some sessions with a therapist, and that’s Okay

Listen, we all have baggage. We all have problems. These are Unraveled Lovers who want to be the best for you, but at the same time have issues of their own, and you’re going to have to support them when they pop into their local psych clinic to make themselves better people.

“Waluigi” is an Unraveled Lover who is going through some identity issues. They want to be good for you, but they don’t even know who exactly they are. They may feel as if they are tricking you into being in this relationship, that they aren’t who you think they are, and while these fears are irrational, they wholeheartedly believe it and will never feel fully secure in this relationship until they have made peace with themselves. If you love this Unraveled Lover, you’re going to have to stick with them as they learn more about who they are.

“Kirby” is an Unraveled Lover who, for some reason, is obsessed with the constant quest to make things make sense. This need of theirs bleeds into every aspect of their life and can definitely affect your relationship. This Unraveled Lover may sometimes perhaps cite that they don’t deserve you because they can’t seem to figure out a logical and objective answer for why you are with them. This issue of treating everything like a puzzle to solve is an issue they will have to work out and recover from, and they will be receptive to this process of recovery because they cherish the relationship they have with you and understand that not everything has to be solved; some things can just be felt. If you choose to stay with this Unraveled Lover, you must be prepared to support them when they take a mysterious but needed soul searching journey in the woods. You must be prepared to sit with them along the shores of the beach and reassure them that life is about living, not about answers.

And that, dear readers, ends the OKAY TIERs. Now it’s time for the tier you have all been waiting for.

Drumroll, please!

GOOD TIER: Pop open the champagne, bring out the strawberries dipped in chocolate, and let Spotify play Careless Whisper, baby, because we’re in the Ideal Lover zone.

Welcome to the Ideal Lover Zone. Here, we have three Unraveled Lovers who are just extremely good fellas.

“I used the Sims to perfect my apartment” is an Unraveled Lover who will work their hardest to be the best for you, but unlike the BAD TIER perfectionists, it will naturally dawn to them that perfection is unattainable. After this realization, they will find comfort and happiness in your romantic relationship and the other healthy relationships they have with other people. This Unraveled Lover will be sincere with you when the time calls for it, but will also not be afraid to be goofy for it. Above all, this Unraveled Lover will ask for help when they need it. They may often be shy, at first, but they understand their limits and will openly communicate to you when situations call for it. Communication is the bedrock of any good relationship, and this Unraveled Lover will never keep you guessing.

“The Perfect Pokerap” is similar to the Sims, in the sense that they will at first strive for perfection in the honeymoon phase of your relationship but then understand that that isn’t possible and then set more reasonable and realistic goals. What sets this Unraveled Lover out from the crowd though is just how much they cherish you. How devoted they are to you. The love you will feel in this relationship will be transcendental, and, even if you do break up, this Unraveled Lover will never forget you.

And finally. Who---according to me, a mildly delirious 21 year old rando on the internet---is the most ideal Unraveled Lover?

It’s “Find your Kojima name with my simple 11 page form.” Why? Because this Unraveled Lover wants to know you. They want to know everything about you, the parts you like and the parts you don’t like. This is a lover who will not shy away from any aspect of yourself, but instead, embrace you for who you are as a full fledged person.

They’ll also give you a whack ass pet name, and boy, isn’t that romantic?

Well, there you have it. All (as of May, 2020) of the Unraveled Episodes as 23 Unraveled Lovers. What did I learn from this endeavor? That romantic love is complicated, but if you’re into it, it is definitely worth the trials and tribulations.

...As long as I’m not dating the Castlevania Unraveled. Seriously, when we’re making out, I don’t wanna hear about how sexy the Hyena With Gun is. Learn how to read the room, dude.

(Thanks for reading.)

#reposting because damn it i worked too hard on this that it BETTER FUCKIN SHOW UP IN THE TAG #polygon #bdg #unraveled #brian david gilbert #nobody asked but

[justoneday-namjoonii]

forgive me

anon request: “I really love the way you write angsty stuff so if u want, can u write a scene where jungkook is like involved in illegal stuff like drugs or maybe he's a hitman, Y/N and Jungkook have a conflict about that because she's not happy with what he does, he gets hurt a lot but he enjoys his job and doesn't wanna give it up cuz he loves the thrill. It can be an emotional scene where Y/N tells him that she's afraid of losing him because of what he does. Honestly come up with anything, I don't mind 😂”

prompt: Jungkook is a druglord, you’re a waitress at a shabby burger place. He loves what he does and even though you try to ignore it, it scares you. You fear you’ll lose him if he doesn’t quit and he’s all you have. Your so called family are full of lies and if it wasn’t for Jungkook, you don’t know where you’d be. You wonder every night if the sirens you hear are for him—you pray it’s not for him. Secretly, he feels the same about you.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: angst, drabble, mental health issues, mentions of murder, mature subject matter

author’s note: For the anon who requested this, this is for you! I hope you enjoy~ did i watch Truth be Told and decide to make the OC a twin? yes, yes i did

When you opened your eyes, you started to feel around for your cellphone. When you couldn't feel for it, you rolled over and yawned, it's probably under the bed. That's where its gonna stay too. As soon as you got home from work, you fell face-first into your bed and taking a shower was the last thing on your mind. But now you're feeling the stale department store smell on your clothes. It takes about two minutes for you to roll out of bed and realize you that Jungkook should have been here by now. You grab your phone and see two missed calls and a text from 2 hours ago.

jungkook💖💫: im sorry ill be over a little later baby, something came up 

jungkook💖💫: i miss you angel

You smile, he always misses you. And you miss him too, but you know he's probably out there in the slums of the city, doing what he does. How you lucked out with him, you have no idea. One night you were trying to call an Uber to get home from a birthday party at the club. It was around midnight and you had to work so you couldn't hang with the hardcore crowd. You went outside to call for a ride but you were being watched. Some guy kept catcalling, just outright harassing you. It was the scariest night of your life. You were telling him to leave you alone but he was drunk or high, either way, he wasn't all there. He snatched your phone. Just when you thought he was going to grab you, a black sports car, one you would have had to work two lifetimes to afford, stopped at the light. And before you know it, the man trying to get you is being dragged into the alley where he probably would have taken you. You remember being frozen, all you could hear was cursing and blunt force. The mystery man, whose car is still in the middle of the road, emerges from the dark corner between the buildings.

You were completely taken. The smile, the hair, the tattoos, and dangling earrings, paired with a striking gaze—he was an angel. He was so beautiful and he was just looking at you stand there with your mouth open.

"If there's one thing I hate, oh here you go," He hands you your phone and you get a nice look at his hand tattoo, "it's motherfuckers who can't leave women the fuck alone. Sorry you had to deal with that, but he won't be bothering you or anyone else after tonight, or use his hands again," He sighs, fixing his clothes a bit and wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, thank you," You slip the phone in your bomber jacket pockets, "not a lot of people would stop a stupid guy from bothering a girl they don't even know."

"Yeah, I'm Jungkook by the way," He introduces himself with a smile, situating his nice clothes, "do you- Um, did you need a ride? I'm not a creep I swear," He holds his hands up in surrender when you furrow your brows at the suggesting—great, now she thinks I'm a pervert. 

"I didn't stop that guy as blackmail to get laid, I just-" He pauses to grapple for the right words, "I saw you just standing on the curb and I know it's not safe out here-"

"If it's not any trouble," You interrupt his rambling, "I live about 15 minutes away, I was gonna call a ride but if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it. My name is Y/n, by the way."

That night changed your life forever. It was the first time you had wanted to kiss a stranger, the first night you ever came close to a soulmate. He confesses to having seen you in the club, he was at the bar, refusing offers from every girl from the bartenders to cougars out on the town, at least that's what you always thought. In that little fifteen minutes, you got to know very little about him but you felt so comfortable sharing things about yourself when he asked. He dropped you off and said if you ever needed anything, to give him a call. 

You never got to use the number because you ended up seeing him again. He showed up to your job, but he wasn't there for you, he was there for one of your money laundering and pill-popping associates. You were taking a break and for some reason, the break room was eerily empty. After you heard gunshots and the whole store went into chaos. You remember trying to leave and suddenly being swept away and into an outside electrical room apart of the building. You calmed down enough to realize that it was him but you were baffled.

"What're the odds that you would work at the same place as that bastard," He fiddles with the gun, tucking it to his side and flipping on the safety and pulling off his mask with a toothy grin, "do you remember me?"

"You?... Jungkook, how did you- Why are you-..." You make a small step back and swallow, scrambling to think of something to say. "Have you been following me like some creep?!"

"No! this is just a run-in by fate, I swear I didn't plan it. I'm not even supposed to still be here but I couldn't just leave, not without saying something to you."

"Okay...What do you want to say? I have to get back on the clock." You look him up and down, his all-black clothes and heavy boots intimidating but alluring in many ways.

"Wanna grab a coffee?"

For some reason, you said yes to the familiar stranger.

"Sure- I mean no! No, I can't Jungkook, I have to get back to work-"

"Trust me, just come with me," He extends his hand for you to take and smiles, "you won't regret it."

You took his hand and never looked back.

* * *

Nights like this.

When it's too early to ruin his life and too late to pretend like he wouldn't care. So when he shows up to the lounge to enforce an unpaid debt from a client, he leaves with bruised knuckles, two grand, and a rush of adrenaline. He went a little hard on the guy, but can you blame him? He messed up his plans. Tonight is date night, also known as 'crash at your place' night. It worked out though, you had to work late so he wouldn't be too tardy. Judging by the fact that you haven't answered your phone, you must be knocked out.

He slips his hand into his pocket and fumbles with his keys until he finds the one to your apartment. When he walks inside he hears the sink on and smiles to himself, you must've just woken up. 

"Baby, it's me," He announces himself, "how was your day?"

"Fine," You step out in your work clothes, still trying to get your earrings out, "as fine as a day working for the devil could be." 

"That bad?" You take note of the silk black shirt that's rolled up to his elbows, letting you see his beautiful sleeve of tattoos. When he comes dressed like this, and smelling like smoke you know he's been out into high-end clubs. The way some of the women look at him makes you feel small and a little self-conscious. But he always reassures you that you're who he wants, not some woman who sees him as an experimental one-night stand. When he tells you to meet him in the restroom because he needs to tell you something, you're reminded that you're all he wants.

"She screwed the schedule. My only day off was taken because her favorite, Kasey, has to go out of town."

He unbuttons the buttons on his shirt with deliberate fingers. "You walked out on a job for me before, remember that?" He smiles, letting his shirt fall from his shoulders like a dream. A bruise on his upper arm catches your attention but you don't say anything. "If you're not happy, just leave. I can take care of you, you can be my sugar baby."

"Yeah, my step-mom would love that, I could see it now," You cringe at the thought, "Hey, just a heads up, I'm not working or married but I have a sugar daddy who pays all my bills and lets me use his money for free, oh, he's also a drug lord. She'd really think highly of me then." 

"Fuck Carol, she's a judgmental priss anyway," He comes up to you, hands finding your waist, "why do you care what she thinks about you?" 

"I don't care what she thinks, but if she finds out she'll tell my dad and I don't want to hear it from him. If he pretends to not be disappointed by the lesser-twin one more time, I'll actually cuss him out...He's such a liar, he lied to my mom and he lies to me.”

"Quit saying that," Jungkook grabs you under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can sit on the edge of your bed, "you're not the lesser-twin, you're the cute and sexy twin." You sit back on his thighs and you both laugh at his attempt to lighten your mood.

"Well, I'm not a successful surgeon and I'm broke as hell, but at least my boyfriend thinks I'm cute." His hands find their way to the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, revealing a disappointing tank top.

"See, this is disappointing. Why are you wearing a tank top? It's a hundred degrees outside." He sighs, looking up at you like a pouting little kid.

"Because I want to," You grin, brushing his hair from his brows, revealing a scratch, "you're cut."

"Yeah, had a run-in with an old friend, we're obviously not friends anymore."

"You should take me with you on these deals and stuff, I'd make a great bodyguard for you," You joke, "if you showed me how to use a gun."

"You?" He giggles at the image of you secretly acting as a bodyguard, a dagger, and a gun in a garter under a skintight dress. "That's not a bad idea, they'd be too distracted looking at how fucking beautiful you are to see you as a threat."

"Yeah, I always saw as the Bonnie & Clyde type of couple," He leans up to kiss you and you smile through it before he pulls away, "eh, you need to shower, you smell like weed."

He furrows his brows, a snarky smile on his mouth. "And you smell like French fries, but I still kissed you.”

"Touche." You can't argue with that, the French fries smell gets to you too.

He picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom with a beaming smile.

"Let's shower then."

 * * *

A deal went bad, he got grazed by a bullet and spent a few hours at the emergency room.

When he pulled in to the driveway and saw your car, he sighed in relief—he was hoping you'd come. After work, you had come by earlier to clear your head and take a breather from your cramped apartment and rowdy neighbors. Ever since his 'new position' he was put up in this huge mansion, equipped with a full staff. Luckily, they were off tonight so no need to keep quiet.

It's getting late and you've been trying to watch a baking show to stay awake but it was getting difficult. He hadn't called or answered any of your calls or texts. When you hear the garage door open, your heavy lids lift and you yawn, trying to wake up so you can tell him how your day has been.

He opens the door with a deep sigh and he's glad you can't see the thick white bandage on his upper arm and tired shadows under his eyes because of the dim lights. "Jungkook, it's so late..." You mumble, sitting up. "what took you so long?"

"Yeah, baby, I just had a mix up with someone who owed the group a lot of money, they, uh- They opened fire and we had a lot to clean up." He offhandedly mentions that and goes to the bathroom to change and you just wait for him.

The painkiller is wearing off but he manages to brush his teeth and slip into some sweats and a t-shirt. After flicking the light switch off, he falls into bed with a heavy exhale. Glad to finally have him close so you can tell him about your terrible day, you turn to hug him, and instantly a wince of pain leaves his mouth. 

"Sorry," You giggled, thinking he was just kidding until you see the bandage on his arm, "Oh my gosh," You sit up, hand reaching for his bandage with concern in your brows, "what happened?"

"It's nothing baby, I was grazed by a bullet and had to go to the ER," He spares you a weak grin, hand rustling through his damp locks, "but it's nothing, I feel fine."

It's always nothing to him. You lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead, one he would normally place on you. Nights go by and you know he's out there risking his life, not thinking how devastated you would be if one night he doesn't come back.  

He caresses the apple of your cheek, lips parting when sits up to try to kiss you, but you pull away.

"Hey, I've had a long day I just want to kiss you," He sits up now, "talk to me." 

"Talk to yourself, I'm going to sleep."

"Where the fuck is this coming from?" He glares at you, tone firmer than before. "Y/n, cut the crap. What's the problem?"

"Jungkook, there's no problem I just worry about you."

"I don't mean to make you worry," He speaks softly, "but you know this is what I do, I can't stop now, even if I wanted to."

"I know," Sadly, "but you're all I have."

He tilts his head, a bit confused. "What happened?"

"My sister called when I got off of work. My dad isn't doing well, his liver is in terrible condition and he needs a transplant...He's on a wait-list now." 

Knowing the severed relationship you have with your family, he treads lightly when requesting this. "Do you want to go see him?-"

"No!" You snap. "Why would I want to see him? This is what he gets for killing my mother."

"Y/n, you don't mean that..." Jungkook gets uncomfortable when you enter that head-space, you become ruthless in your words and your eyes glaze over with something he has yet to understand.

"Why not? It's true. He was cheating on her, that's why he never came home and she thought something was wrong. So drove out in the middle of the night during a storm and ended up crashing into a tree, because of him. My sister has always defended him, but I think it's because she didn't like mom either...The two of them may have cried at the funeral but I know them, they were glad she left us. That's why I need you, Jungkook, I don't have them or want them..."

"Y/n, you have to learn to forgive them for whatever you think they did, it's going to drive you insane if you don't...Fuck them, spend your energy on us, okay?"

"I'm already insane, I'm with you, aren't I? You come close to being killed every week, and it bothers me to think you might not come home...But I'll go through that if it means I get to have you, I love you, I only love you..." You lay your head on his shoulder.

He’s your angel.

You aren’t sure what you are to him.

#jungkook scenario #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #Bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook mafia #jungkook hitman #bts hitman au #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #this wasn't supposed to be a murder mystery but idk #i was getting unhinged vibes #like the oc #shes a little crazy

[lovelyirony]

fic title: I’m falling and the sun is blinding me to your faults

i wanted to do an au of this one, so presenting: tony and rhodey, but make it villainous. i think it’d be fun! 

James Rhodes is two things, first and foremost being that he is a businessman. 

People call him a villain. He doesn’t really think he’s that villainous. 

After all, he only took over New York. He left all the other states alone, so that has to mean something. He was gracious! 

He also wouldn’t consider himself a villain because everyone who works under him gets health insurance. They don’t complain that much, although he’s gotten some about the quality of the buffet on Fridays. 

Catering companies. Hit-or-miss, you know? 

There have been a couple of companies who try to stop him. Rivals that hate that his products are better and employees are happier, for one. Those are easy to dismiss. 

SHIELD is one company who tries, and fails. Repeatedly. It would be embarrassing, but Rhodes has respect for Agents Romanov and Hill, who have been the closest to breaking into his personal office. 

- 

The player that isn’t registering on the field is Tony Stark. Perhaps because he isn’t so much of a player on the field as an existing person who just happens to be on a field. Or a building. However you would like to imagine it. 

In other universes, he walks like he owns the world because he could buy up everything and still have money left over to get ice cream at the end of the day. 

In this universe, his father kicked him out of his house for various things, the most prominent being that Tony is rather partial to kissing guys and ladies, and that just simply won’t do. 

(Tony also stole enough money out of his bank account to buy a house and also start his own business without his knowledge, but in the grand scheme of things, that’s just a small drop in the ocean.) 

Tony made his own tech start-up business. He’s invented a few new things that hit the market discreetly, and he’s building up more and more clientele. He’s about to open another shop, and in all honesty he’s not worried about getting noticed. 

This is until Rhodes comes across an employee bragging about a new repair guy who makes computers run twice as fast, charges less than most repair shops, and looks mighty fine in a tank top.

The last reason is reason enough to visit. 

But also, to see who’s been fixing up Rhodes tech and can make it faster. He doesn’t know why he wouldn’t have just applied for a job. 

Tony is not expecting Rhodes to enter into his building. He has people who are walk-ins, but usually you would expect a villain to make an appointment. Or not, they are villains. 

“I heard that you’ve been improving my phones,” James says. He leans into Tony’s space. He smells quite nice, has a well-tailored suit, and Tony is trying very hard not to find him attractive. That’s not the sort of thing you could be focusing on. 

“You gonna sue me or something?” 

“No, I want to hire you.” 

Tony blinks. 

“Oh. No thank you.” 

Rhodes pulls back. 

“Why ‘no’?” 

“I like my shop just fine. And you have things well-handled.” 

“Could I consult you?” 

“You can’t afford me.” 

Rhodes grins. 

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Of course I am. Can I get anything for you today, or did you just want to beg me to come work for you?” 

“Most people would never be this bold.” 

"What would they be? Terrified in your presence?” 

“More or less, yes. It’s what I prefer.” 

"I don’t cater to people’s preferences, it’s a character flaw and strength,” Tony quips. 

Rhodes smiles. 

It’s terrifyingly beautiful, really. Tony is at a loss for words. 

“I think I’m liking you, Stark.” 

“Tony. You don’t call me Stark. I don’t do the last name dynamic.” 

“Sweetheart, then. Not your last name.” 

“Pet names, seriously?” 

“Oh you got it, honey.” 

“Then go on, platypus,” Tony throws back. 

“Platypus? Really?” 

"Pet names are on the menu, honey bunch. Just try me.” 

Rhodes smiles, turning to exit. 

“I’ll be in touch, darling.” 

Tony leans against his desk, legs shaking underneath. 

There are two problems that he’s not sure how to solve. Here they are: 

1.) Rhodes now has Tony on his radar, which is probably bad because Tony will absolutely be used for world domination or whatever. 

2.) Tony doesn’t really mind as long as he gets to see Rhodes because goddamn. That man could get so many things, and he probably has. And Tony wouldn’t mind being one of those things if he played his cards right. 

But for now, Tony just wants to fix computers and maybe just buy a new brand of tea, but he’s honestly not sure. 

- 

Rhodes makes an appointment to meet. 

Of Fucking Course. 

Tony is not impressed, and is also not impressed that he comes in with a very expensive custom-made designer suit, whereas Tony is not sure the last time his pair of jeans got washed, and an old t-shirt that’s advertising an ice cream shop that is closed now. 

“You love to make an entrance all the time?” Tony asks. “What can I legally do for you?” 

“You’re assuming I’m making you do illegal things, babe?” 

“Yes, Rhodey.” 

“It’s Rhodes.” 

“Hm, maybe. But not to me. Rhodey. I wanna ruin your business impression.” 

Pepper snorts besides Rhodes, who is suitably impressed that Tony doesn’t give one flying fuck about the fact that he could destroy him at any point. 

“I’m ordering that on your next business card deal.” 

“I’ll fire you.” 

“You can’t find someone as competent as me, don’t even joke.” 

“I came here for an opportunity for you. You’ve managed to get some people’s computers to speed up so much. And I want you to do it with all of my employee’s computers.” 

“What, you couldn’t reverse-engineer it? See what I did for yourself?” 

Rhodey grins. 

“I never question a handsome man’s work, darling.” 

Tony turns red. 

“You’re really bad with professionalism, honeysop.” 

“What the hell is that?” 

“What, never heard about romance in the fifteenth century? Boring.” 

“Will you do the job or not?” 

“What are the terms, the conditions, and how much are you paying?” 

Pepper steps forward, a sizable stack of paperwork in her hands. 

The work would pay off the building. It would pay off his mortgage on his house. Hell, it would help a lot. He’d have extra to mess around and maybe go on a vacation. 

The downside is that he’s helping a villain get faster speed and better battery life with laptops. This could also mean he’d die, but honestly he was kind of expecting an early death. 

Rhodey assures him that he won’t die. 

“If anyone touches you, then they feel my wrath,” he says. His teeth glint underneath the lights. “And honey, no one ever likes feeling that.” 

“What, it isn’t all feather-light tickles?” 

“Touches a bit more than that.” 

There’s an unspoken story there. Rhodey’s grin goes from tight and eyes empty to refocusing on Tony and turning soft, genuine. 

“We can discuss the official plans over dinner.” 

“Dinner won’t work for me, I got plans tonight.” 

“A hot date?” 

"A special movie screening,” Tony says. “Can’t miss it. Maybe next time, or the next three times.” 

Rhodey smiles. 

“Maybe sometime.” 

“Maybe.” 

- 

Holy fuck.

Rhodes International has a local coffee shop on the lobby. A barista is a cheerful girl who has neon yellow hair greets him and asks if he wants a complimentary drink. 

“You...know who I am?” 

“Not in the slightest!” she says cheerily. “I have a memory thing where I remember everyone I ever meet and who I don’t meet. What kind of coffee guy are you?” 

“Um...you guys have mint syrup?” 

“Yup!” 

“Then I guess a peppermint latte?” 

“Coming right up!” 

So here is this girl humming what sounds suspiciously like the Winnie the Pooh song as she makes a drink, and that drink is amazing. 

Also, people are wearing, it seems, whatever outfit they want. There are some people talking, and two look to be dressed in professional business clothing, but the third guy they’re talking to is wearing ripped jeans and a tank top has the phrase of “I’m Just Existing on a Manifestation of Reality” emblazoned. 

It’s odd. 

“So glad you could make it, Tones,” Rhodey says. 

“Tones?” 

“What, too much?” 

“Tones sounds like you know me.” 

“And I don’t?” 

“What’s my favorite jam?” 

“Why jam?” 

“If you know someone well, you know their favorite type of jam.” 

“Orange marmalade?” 

“What the fuck do I look like, Paddington?” 

“You’re right, Paddington’s not near as sexy.” 

“This counts as harassment, right? This counts as harassment.” 

“Don’t have him sue us already, he’ll win,” Pepper says, breezing to their sides. God, she’s gorgeous. Casually dressed in a pencil skirt and a blouse and acting like she doesn’t look like a goddess. Must be exhausting. “Tony, great to have you. Let me show you who you’re working with.” 

He has his own fancy office, a team that knows what they’re doing, and catered lunch. 

Catered lunch. It’s not even a Friday. 

“Friday’s are questionable,” Rhodey says. “Weird selection.” 

“You don’t wanna know,” says Intern Joe. 

That’s literally on his ID card. 

- 

Tony starts work. It’s not bad, not at all. He works in the mornings on the weekends and Mondays as well as Thursdays, and then sometimes does work from his own office. 

Rhodey is...nice. 

This is a bit unsettling, because Rhodey literally just threatened the president over an environmental bill not being accepted and currently all employees are only slightly scared. 

“This is just like three months ago,” says Janice The Badass. (Also on her ID card.) “Don’t worry, the government can’t do anything. They rely on us too heavily.” 

“For what?” 

“For safety.” 

“Not asking.” 

“Good, I’m not going to answer.” 

“Okay?” 

- 

It’s also weird that Rhodey checks in on him. He brings him coffee how he likes it, and he makes him sit down and try new foods with him. 

He’s not bad at conversational topics either. Tony’s used to talking, and he’s used to bad-talking on dates. This doesn’t come close. 

No, they talk about the differences of Star Trek and how much Tony hates specific brands of pens, and how Rhodey is a disaster when it comes to coordination of ties. 

“I don’t like ties,” he scowls. 

“Then why wear one?” 

“Pepper says they look nice.” 

“Why do you need to look nice?” 

“Most things are all about presentation.” 

“Ah, need to be taken seriously.” 

“Only at times when I’m facing government officials or weird corporate bosses.” 

“Aren’t you a corporate boss?” 

“I’m a corporate boss who is also an enemy of fellow corporate bosses. Weird thing.” 

“That’s...intriguing.” 

“How so?” 

“Well, how does that work?” Tony asks, popping a couple blueberries into his mouth. “How are you both the same and an enemy?” 

“Watch and learn, sugar. Watch and learn.” 

Tony is allowed on the next business meeting. Which, coincidentally, his old Uncle Obadiah is part of. 

This leads to rather undesired complications. 

-

“You’re working for a supervillain?” Obie practically yells. 

“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Tony says. “I just work with computers.” 

“Besides if he wanted to work for a real supervillain, wouldn’t he be working for you?” Rhodey asks. 

He’s sitting in one of those rolling-chairs, and despite that, he made it his throne. He’s relaxed in it, perfectly at peace with the situation. All eyes are on him. 

“I’m not the one that the government is after.” 

“And yet I’m the one who’s successfully paid taxes. Where have yours gone, hm? Strip club in Vegas? Weapon sales in Afghanistan?” 

Obie freezes. 

Tony knows that when you freeze, it is your worst tell. 

“Does dad know?” 

This time, Rhodey turns towards him. He’s surprised. 

“We’ll discuss that later. But does Howard know, Obadiah?” 

“Howard is none of your concern.” 

“Oh my god, he is,” Rhodey says grinning. “You haven’t told him about your little back-door escapades. I wonder what would happen if I told him.” 

“You don’t want me as an enemy,” Obadiah says, shaking. He looks at Tony. “And you, boy, you just earned yourself a death sentence.” 

“Funny, Howard said the same thing when he kicked me out of the house,” Tony says as he’s checking his nails. Rhodey thinks he is in love. 

“Go ahead and try to get me as an enemy, see how well it works for you,” Rhodey says, pearly whites on display. “I took over the entire state of New York, leaving everyone in power allied with me. Plus, Tony hasn’t pushed his legacy from what I’ve seen, but what would happen if I just...let him talk? At the next press conference, perhaps.” 

Tony grins, and it’s dangerous. 

“Yeah Obie, what if I talked? I’m sure Howard’s disastrous attempt at fatherhood would be a real uptick in stock points.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“Just watch. Just fucking watch,” Tony says. “I still know how to smile for the press, and I still remember all of my lessons for how to make sure anything is believable.” 

He shakes. 

Rhodey gets security. 

Tony visibly relaxes as Stane is led out of the building, and Rhodey smiles over at him. 

“What?” 

“You wanna grab dinner with me?” 

“Like as a casual dinner, or a date-dinner?” 

“How about both?” 

“Thank god, I can’t remember where my nice shoes are.” 

- 

Tony supposes it is odd to be out to dinner with one of the most-feared men in all of New York. 

But it was hard to fear him when he was currently trying to lick ice cream off the tip of his nose with no such luck. 

Or when Rhodey kisses him senseless on his doorstep and makes fun of the little gnome that he’s put outside, and Tony giggles and watches him leave in his fancy car, still leaning on his door. 

Oh, he’s got it bad. 

But he doesn’t mind. 

#this was supposed to take a WAY darker turn #but then i forgot bc i listened to frank sinatra #so instead it is now funnie #lovelyirony writes #rhodeytony #rhodey becomes a villain but like. ethical? i'm joking #i just wasn't sure how to make him Villain Supreme #tony doesn't exactly mind #pet names out of SPITE #i love that dynamic #tony stark #rhodey #james rhodey rhodes #obadiah stane

[bul1mic-arsehole]

It’s my grandmas birthday today and I wasn’t able to buy her a gift.. I was planning to take her to a restaurant, but they won’t allow people in unless they’re vaccinated or tested, and thanks to fucking German government, unvaccinated people have to pay for the test themselves which is expensive, so my grandma doesn’t wanna get tested , and can’t get the vaccine because she’s got heart problems so her doctor advised her not to get it.

So since the restaurant is cancelled thanks to the god damn pandemic, and all the new laws for unvaccinated people. Then I told myself I’d save up some money to buy her a nice present, but ofc, since I’m the worst adult in history and don’t know how to handle money, I used the money for groceries and ordering take out pizza like a lot of times.. so I couldn’t even buy her a present.. and she said it’s okay but I feel so damn horrible about it.

I’m literally the worst adult anyone could meet. I don’t work because of my mental health, I have debts I can’t pay, I have no clue how to handle money at all, so it always goes out within days because I keep spending it.. It’s gotten so bad that I don’t even complain about not making more friends, cause I certainly wouldn’t want to be friends with myself, if I were someone else.

I literally see no worth in me. In societies eyes, I’m lazy, living off of the government. In my old friends parents eyes, I’m lazy because they think I’m purposely avoiding work just so that I can lay in bed all day. And when I explain it’s because of my mental health not being good enough to handle work life, (and believe me, I’ve tried SO MANY times! and each time I had to give up jobs because of my mental health) that I can’t hold a job, they say I’m using that as an excuse… I feel motivated enough by those harsh words, I feel motivated to get a job , but I know, that once I have a job and I’m confronted with the stress of work life again, I’ll end up having to quit because my mental health is gonna spiral so much more downwards again. It happens every single time.. I don’t want to live like this for the rest of my life..

Sorry for ranting, I just wanted to write these feelings down.

#anna miaa #annorecca #annoreksia #annorexyc #annorexxa #anorexjc #anorexjk #bulimina #bulimxa #bullimia #tw selfhate #eating disoder thoughts #tw depressing stuff

[animalanie]

Oneshot - Detroit: Become Human [Take Care]

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Title: Take Care

Pairing: Connor RK800 x Gender Neutral Reader

Word count: +1.8K words

Warnings: Mention of death, mild language

A/N: This started off a little more depressed than I thought it would. :/

Basically Connor and Y/N acting like Hank’s parents.

If you would like to see my other works, feel free to check out my Masterlist! Or if you’d like to request something from any of these fandoms, here is where you can request!

“Give me another one.” Hank slurred as he slammed his empty glass against the bar’s counter. 

“Careful, these glasses are expensive. Wouldn’t want to add these onto your tab as well, now, would you? I think your trip to the Eden club was enough for the entire year.” You teased as he grunted in response. 

He was slumped over, as he usually was, and tried to push the glass in your direction. You chuckled and shook your head before finally grabbing the glass and pouring him another drink.

“You know, this is your seventh?” You nonchalantly mentioned and stared at the glass as the red liquid from your serving bottle splashed gently into in.

“Didn’t know you kept count for your customers.” He mumbled, clearly displeased by your statement and you shrugged, handing him his drink back.

“I’m just worried, Hank. At this rate, coming to this bar has higher chances of killing you than your job does. And to be honest, that’s disappointing considering how dangerous being a part of the police force is.”

“Are you done?” He finally looked up at you with his usual disgruntled expression. You sighed and rolled your eyes, going back to wiping the few leftover cups on your counter. 

No one was in the bar currently but the lieutenant and yourself so you had plenty time to talk to your heart’s content. However, when Hank started getting drunk, you thought it would be better to minimize your conversation as to not piss him off over something trivial. 

“You know,” Hank started suddenly, bringing you out of your thoughts as you subconsciously rubbed a clean cloth around the glass slowly. “I had a case today and, uh, I went to the crime scene to investigate.” He gulped down whatever was left of his drink and slammed the glass onto the counter.

You remained silent as he fumbled to find any words and looked up at you, his eyes baggy from possible lack of sleep.

“There was a... a kid.” He trailed off quickly before shaking his head. “Nah, nevermind, it’s not important. I’d rather have this conversation sober.” You furrowed your eyebrows, frustrated that he suddenly decided against speaking when he finally started to trust you with his feelings. A part of you, however, thought it best to question him about it later as you stared at his troubled expression.

“Are you okay?” He only shook his head.

“For fuck’s sake, they were just trying to live normal lives like us. Like you and I want to live. They were killed just for wanting that.”

You looked down and placed the glass in your hand slowly on the counter in front of you, not quite knowing how to respond. It wasn’t difficult to assume that the kid he mentioned brought back some trauma Hank had always tried hiding from you and Connor.

“Some humans are... terrible people, Hank. We can’t stop that. But we can help figure out who did this. You can.” You tried your best to bring his hopes up but were not quite sure what effect it had when he scoffed and pushed his glass towards you once more.

“Hank-”

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, okay? Just pour me the drink. I am paying you, aren’t I?” He raised his finger, making you shut your lips tightly against your will as you grabbed the glass and started pouring his drink.

“You don’t have to go through it alone, you know that, right?” You mumbled and pushed his drink towards him but Hank didn’t have the time to answer, if he was ever going to. The light sound of the bell rung in your bar as your door opened and in walked the android you had grown close to because of his constant visits.

“Hey, Connor.” You smiled lightly, still feeling the weight of your unfinished conversation on your shoulders. The android, however, stared at the old man, perplexed, before turning to you with a slightly disappointed look. You furrowed your eyebrows as he walked forward and leaned onto the counter.

“I thought you would take care of Hank, Y/N.” He shook his head lightly after noticing the state Hank was in. 

“And I am! Don’t blame me!” You scoffed and stepped back in disbelief when Hank looked back up to stare at the android.

“Hey, stop bothering them! Don’t tell Y/N how to do their own job, asshole.” He grunted before going back to his drink, making you exhale sharply as an attempt of a chuckle.

“Yeah, Connor, don’t tell me how to do my job.” 

“Y/N-”

“Don’t worry. I’m taking good care of him.” You leaned closer to Connor to continue explaining to him through a whisper, “He just doesn’t know it, yet.” You leaned back and he tilted his head in confusion.

“Hey! Y/N, gimme another!” 

“Hank, let’s get you home. Come on.” Connor grabbed Hank’s empty glass and placed it away from him. With that, he tried to place the old man’s arm around his shoulders to help him up, only for Hank to grunt and pull his arm away harshly.

“No! Let me go! I’ll stay here for as long as I want!” He slurred and pointed his finger at his partner in anger.

“No, lieutenant, if you stay any longer, it will be bad for your health.”

“Hey! Are you suggesting my company is bad for a person’s wellbeing?” Connor instantly turned to you, eyes slightly wider, as he stuttered before finding the right words. 

“No! No, that’s not what I meant-”

“Calm down. I was kidding.” You waved your hand in front of you as you laughed before turning to Hank, who was now hunched over. “But, he’s right, Hank. You really should get going. I think you’ve been through enough for the day.” 

“Actually, Y/N, could I talk to you for a moment?” You turned to Connor to meet his brown eyes as he tilted his head to suggest talking away from Hank. You nodded and followed him to a far corner of the bar. He turned to you and stole a glance at his partner before staring at you. 

“I know you’ve been trying your best to help him out and ever since he started coming to your bar, he has been better at handling his drinking. So, what happened today?” 

“Well, let me assure you, his dearly concerned son.” Connor furrowed his eyebrows at the name but you continued nonetheless. “I only gave him 3 glasses that had any alcoholic content in them. After that, just mocktails- he’s literally been drinking Cranberry punch after that and he doesn’t even know.” You laughed and placed your hand on your forehead as you recalled how he acted even more drunk after every glass.

“What? Is that alright for you to do so?” 

“Of course it is, I own this bar, after all. Plus, I won’t be charging him for today.” You looked behind your shoulder to glance at the man in question, your eyes drooping as you remembered your conversation with him. 

“Hey, uh,” You turned back to look up at the android as he already had his eyes on you. “About what happened today- I know I shouldn’t pry into your business but Hank seems... emotionally moved, to say the least, after what you guys found at the crime scene. He doesn’t seem to be handling it that well so if there’s any way, take care of him. You know how he gets.” You dismissed any negative thoughts with a wave of your hand and turned your head away.

Somehow, Connor seemed to understand exactly what you were talking about as he stared at Hank. His eyes narrowed before he turned his eyes away as well.

“I understand. I’ll do my best.” He spoke without hesitation and you nodded in response, still turned away from him. He brought his hands to your face and turned you to look at him. “Y/N, you know you can count on me, yes?”

“Of course! You are possibly the only person I can count on.” You shrugged with a small smile as he removed his hands from your cheeks, now having your full attention.

“Hey! What the hell are you two doing over there?! I’ve been sitting alone over here for like 3 hours!” You rolled your eyes and turned to him, ready to head back to attend to your lonely customer.

“Minutes, actually.” You sassed and walked behind the counter as Connor went to stand beside Hank. “Well, you want another drink?” You picked up his glass and poured him another drink.

“Is that even supposed to be a question?” He slurred and sighed loudly. After placing his glass back in front of him, you turned to Connor.

“What would you like?” You asked with a smirk as he pretended to think and sat down on a bar stool.

“Well, do you have anything that would suit an android?”

“Hm, would Thirium work?”

“Oh, fuck, no. Keep that nasty shit away from him.” Hank grunted and took a quick sip as you laughed.

“Well, it’s not something I would go for as a drink but I can see why you would imagine so.” You chuckled at the seriousness in his tone and shook your head. “Would you like something, Y/N? I could try to mix up something, if you’d like.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you stared up at him.

I’m going to regret this so much.

“Your love.” You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing as you went back to your work.

“I can’t give you something you already have.” You looked up suddenly, shocked by his unusually smooth response. Hank groaned while you stood still, speechless before finally exhaling and trying to hide your smile as much as possible.

“Well, aren’t you getting better at flirting? Who’s teaching you? Surely, not this old man that’s clearly disgusted by the exchange?” You narrowed your eyes at Hank as he finished his drink and started getting up.

“I’m gonna... go and you two can go to hell.” He slurred and stumbled, making Connor get up and support the older man. 

“Well, we’ll see you later, Y/N.” Connor wished and nodded in your direction as he started walking out. “I will make sure to pay you for tonight first thing tomorrow morning.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled before remembering something. “Hey, Connor,” He turned around slightly to let you know he was listening. “I know you know this but take care of him for me, please. He needs it.” You pursued your lips as you looked at the condition Hank was in. Connor looked back at his partner before turning back to you.

“I will. Don’t worry.” With that said, both of them exited your bar, leaving you to your own thoughts.

I’m glad you’re there for him, Connor.

You thought to yourself as you stared at the door they left through moments ago, letting silence take over the place.

#detroit become human #connor x reader #Connor #RK800 #oneshot #DBH #gender netural reader #reader

[pjmsneverland]

So Good

Description: Fawn grows tired of working shitty jobs before she meets her way out.

Warning: Violence, murder (read at your own risk)

-

She was tired. The job at the bridal store was too much since she spent most of the shift on her feet and when she asked for a bench to sit on at the front her boss was not very understanding.

She already swore off being a waitress since that involved more running around on her frail feet that she knew would not be able to endure the long shifts. Her mother was not in the best health either. Making money from the small cleaning business that she owned and her daughter sometimes helped her with. Fawn began to realize no one had cared about the pain she endured because everyone was either too high on wealth or dealing with their own suffering to care. Life was fucked up and at the age of 19 she was all ready to call it quits until she saw him outside of the bridal shop she worked at. Her shift ended and she stood outside waiting for her ride. He sat on the gravel smoking a cigarette,dark hair and defined jawline as clear as day whilst she observed him. Her feet ached so she sat down on the side opposite of him. He felt her staring but did not say anything, focused on the cigarette he inhaled the fumes from repeatedly.

“Hi.” Fawn greeted politely. Her voice was sweet to his ears as her big brown eyes looked at him innocently. She didn't know what compelled her to speak to a stranger but she liked the fact that he knew nothing about her therefore she was not scared to approach him.

“You always talk to random strangers you see on sidewalks?”

He ignored her greeting and went straight to the point which made her giggle for some weird reason.

“No. I just-”

His scoff interrupted her as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette and stared back at her intently, analyzing her round face, eyes and plump lips.

“Someone could hurt you like that, you know?”

He read right through her. Her attitude meant well, she was soft and pure with an achingly innocent aura surrounding her. Some sick fuck could easily hurt her and take advantage of that looming innocence. Jimin had seen enough to know what he thought was true.

“But you won’t, right sir?” She pouted, big eyes fluttering and peering into his soul.

Jimin had done a lot of fucked up things for money. Had blood on his hands from years ago as well as a few hours ago but Fawn was not aware of what the man across her was capable of. He had no intentions of hurting her just as she thought but the mere thought of anyone hurting her made him sick. She was too good for the things this world presented in front of her. He shook his head answering her question, proving her right. She smiled instinctively, feeling her heart soar for the boy across from her.

She was enthralled by him.

-

They became a part of each other’s days. Jimin insisted on taking her home after work and she saw it as an opportunity to spend more time with him. Fawn enjoyed watching him perform daily tasks such as cooking dinner,eating, talking, and especially driving. His hands gliding on the wheel mesmerized her. He noticed but let it seem as if he did not in fear of embarrassing her. He parked in front of her house and she sighed at the fact that it was time to go home but she couldn't take another day of not saying what she was thinking since she was so desperately bad at hiding the fact that she liked the boy she knew not very much about.

“I like you.” She spoke out of the blue.

Jimin winced at her words, not because he didn't like her or that he was surprised but because he knew that she was far too good-too pure for him. He turned to face her moonlit face where the pouty lips and big eyes that he wished would stop peering at him sat upon.

“Sweetheart-”

“Do you not like me, Jimin?” Tears stung her eyes and his hand made its way to her cheek.

He hated that he made her cry.

“How could I not like something as pure as you, sweetheart?”

Fawn’s heart fluttered and a tear strayed from her eye as Jimin’s thumb was quick to wipe it away.

“T-then why didn’t you say anything?” She questioned him since she had wracked her brain and tried her best to read his gestures towards her but the insecurities made her think Jimin might just feel bad for her.

“I didn’t wanna scare you, sweetheart.”

Jimin thought of all the damage he could do to Fawn. He was capable of turning her inside out and making her surrender at his feet but he did not want to do that. He found himself aching to hold her hand whilst he drove her home from work. He wanted to make her quit that hellhole of a job and join him instead in his tainted journeys that he called work. He could give her everything she needed and then some.

“But you won’t hurt me.”

Fawn leaned across the console to be closer to him, her forehead now resting on his has her heart racing. She had never been so straightforward with anyone before but somehow here she was throwing herself at a man she met a week ago. He was older than her and he made her feel safe which grew her infatuation for him even more.

“Fawn.” Jimin exhaled against her pouty lips. He promised himself he would not let his feelings get the best of him. He believed the girl deserved someone who was pure just like her and couldn't imagine doing any of the things he thought of doing to her. He wanted to be the one to evoke euphoria from her and have her whimpering underneath him but god he promised.

“What are you doing?” He managed to ask. He felt like a little boy again who got flustered by every little thing a girl did. Those times were long gone since he was at the ripe age of 23 and should not be feeling this way.

“I wanna be closer to you. Is that okay?”

He breathed deeply, his tense body giving in to her because he wanted this as much as she did if not more.

“Get as close as you want, sweetheart.”

He felt the same way so Fawn took that as her cue to climb onto his lap, careful not to honk the horn on the steering wheel. Her hands found her way to Jimin’s face and she caressed his cheeks softly.

“I’m kind of terrified.”

The boy frowns, placing his hands on her waist. The last thing he wanted was for Fawn to be scared of him. So many of the people he encountered were afraid of him and it contributed to the successes he reached in his paths but Fawn was different. She is not an enemy that he must kill to finish the mission of the night. In this moment he’s just him and she’s the girl that has his heart fluttering in his chest.

“You know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

She shakes her head.

“I know you won’t. I’m terrified of how you make me feel-I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

He was over the moon to hear her say that.

“I feel the same way sweetheart-look.”

Jimin gently took Fawn’s hand and placed it on his toned chest so she could feel his heart against her palm beating furiously. She gasped at the sensation before looking back up into his eyes.

“You have no reason to be afraid of me. I’ll never hurt you. I’d have to kill myself if I ever made that mistake.”

Jimin’s expression was firm as he spoke to the girl above him and Fawn liked that he was always so serious and secure when it came to her. She had never felt that before with anyone. At work no one cared or spoke to her with such care, none of the boys from school spoke to her like that, and her parents told her that they were the only ones on this planet that would ever truly care about her. Fawn always knew that couldn't be true and here she was correct about the conclusion she reached years ago.

“I trust you.”

Fawn didn't want to go home tonight. She wanted to go home with him, be with him when he fell asleep and woke from his slumber.

“That might be the worst and best decision you’ll ever make.”

Her giggles filled the car as she leaned in to kiss the man on the cheek.

-

Fawn slept over at Jimin’s that night and they spent the day together inside the four walls of the apartment.

The girl ignored the constant rings of her phone,chucking it in her purse and giving Jimin her undivided attention as she sat on his lap on the sofa.

“Don’t you think you should let them know where you are? They must be worried sick about their little girl.” He inquired. She hid her face in his neck and giggled at the words that left his lips as he let the pads of his fingers trail up and down her bare back underneath the t-shirt he lended to her. Fawn revealed her face from the crook of his neck and brushed her lips against his, pushing her limits, a new hobby she found fun in doing since she met him. Jimin feared taking advantage of her innocence although he wanted to do all the things she wanted to do and then some but he would only comply if she initiated.

“They can wait.” She whispered against his skin.

His breath hitched and his brows furrowed while he looked back at her. Golden skin, pink plump lips, and doe eyes all displayed for his eyes to analyze and become mesmerized by.

“What are you doing to me?”

His lips fill the gap between them as he kisses the response that she prepared from her lips. The first kiss they share is gentle, careful, and cautious. His fingers gripping her waist firmly and her delicate palms laying on his chest. The tension builds slowly and their tongues explore each other’s mouths hungrily as they find themselves panting below and beneath each other.

“I want you to quit.” Jimin exhales out.

Fawn tilts her head in confusion, putting her hands on the nape of his neck and toying with the hair there.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you struggling anymore. As long as you’re with me you won’t need to.”

Fawn still had to pay for the expenses of college so she knew she couldn't fulfill such wishes.

“But I still have to pay for school,my credit card,- I’m still trying to save for a car.” She rambled.

“Hey hey. None of that. I can handle it, sweetheart. As long as you’re with me you won’t need to worry.”

Fawn did not need to ask any further questions. She believed him and she knew she could trust him in his decisions. Jimin knew best.

“Okay.”

-

“You can do it alright? I'll be watching the whole time.”

Fawn was ready. As ready as she could be since the boy informed her of what he did for work. She was a little scared to help him with a mission but she knew Jimin would never lead her astray. He never has so why would he start now?

The man was nervous as he drove them to their destination, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel while clenching his jaw in annoyance at his emotions. Fawn’s hand reached over to caress his thigh with her delicate touch.

“It’s okay. I can do this.” She tried to make herself believe what she said more than him.

They reached the front of the abandoned building where everything would unfold. Climbing out of the vehicle and approaching the man hastily to grab his hand was the way she seeked solace while his lips passionately meeting hers was his. They said nothing as they walked in side by side.

Men stood around a form that was tied to a chair with a black bag over their head noticeably struggling against the restraints. When Jimin lifted his head to greet the men they returned the gesture and removed the bag from the person’s head. The man in the chair had obviously been beaten to a pulp as bloody bruises and fresh cuts covered his face. Fawn grimaced at the sight but stood quietly behind Jimin who walked up to the man tsking before cracking his knuckles and throwing a powerful punch across the man’s face. She flinched, turning her face to look away from the gruesome scene. Whimpering of the man could be heard before another punch was thrown at him,a jarring crack sounding this time.

“You know I've always been a firm believer in revenge- if you are a fucked up person you eventually get fucked in the end.” Jimin spoke, all the traces of sweetness he spoke to Fawn with was nowhere to be heard. This was not the kind and loving man she liked to watch make her food and would smile at her when she woke up in his arms. This wasn’t her Jimin.

“Baby come here please.” He called her over with bloody knuckles and she obeyed, wide eyes peering down at the injured man in fear.

One of the men gave him a cloth he used to wipe his knuckles with easily. Soon another item was given to him and in the poor lighting Fawn was able to make out that it was a rifle. The girl was speechless but mesmerized by the silver weapon in his hand. Jimin walked around her form to stand behind her and wrap his arms around her to guide the gun to her nimble shaky hands,positioning her arms so they were aimed at the man in the chair. His face went to the crook of her neck to inhale her scent deeply,making him groan in pleasure.

“You're doing so well for me baby. Relax.” He whispered against her skin soothingly, Fawn’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.

“Put the bag back on his head please.” He demanded firmly and the men followed suit while Jimin continued chants of praise in Fawn’s ear, his warm breath against her skin calming her down.

“On the count of three, okay? Be good and compliant for me.”

Jimin’s fingers guide Fawn’s to the trigger instructing her to pull it to which she complies. The bullet goes right through the bag and the man goes limp. Her knees began to betray her as they buckled beneath her and she turned around quickly to sob into Jimin’s chest. He handed the gun to one of the men and walked Fawn out of the building away from the body. 

He got her into the car and drove off a few miles away from the scene. When they reached the apartment Jimin didn't say much but he gave the girl time to heal from what had happened because he understood that this was new and scary for her. “Hold me tighter please.” She pleaded.His arms tighten around her form consoling her, complying to her wishes.“You did so well for me sweetheart.” He praises. He pushes her back by her shoulders, using his fingers to tilt her head back as she breathed heavily from sobbing so much.“Hey. You were so good for me, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” He smiled fondly.Fawn didn’t want to question him about why he made her shoot that man in the chair. Who was he and what did he do that made it okay to kill him?“I’m a k-killer.” She blubbered out while her boyfriend wiped her tears away and shook his head in disagreement with her statement.“No baby. You’re not capable of such a thing. You’re too good to ever kill anyone-too pure.” He consolidated her while tracing the shape of her hysterical face.Fawn was not hearing it as she pushed him off and stood a few inches away.“What are they gonna do with the body? Jimin I can’t-”He approached her, taking her face in his hands and pecking her pouty lips.“You can and you did, sweetheart. You were so good back there. Now that fucker can never hurt anyone ever again.” Fawn searched Jimin’s eyes that looked at her with such tenderness that made it hard to believe that he killed people on a regular basis but that still didn’t curb the butterflies in her stomach as she looked at him.“I-”

“Shh-I don’t wanna talk about it anymore, okay?” He said, eyes glued on Fawn’s lips causing her pulse to quicken as he held her face in his hands.

“Just be here with me. Can you do that for me, baby?”

She nodded quickly, ready to obey anything he asked of her. Nothing could compare to the way Jimin made her feel. No star in the sky could ever outshine him. Not even the sun. No one and no thing was better than Jimin. Her Jimin.

“Yeah? You always make me so proud.”

 All events from before were stripped from Fawn’s memory as he leaned in to kiss her languidly. Hands finding the back of her thighs trailing over to her ass as her heels left the ground to get closer to him-she never felt close enough to him, even now when there was not even space left for a pin between them she wanted to be closer. Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip gently, emitting a moan from the man above her. A tap to the back of her thighs was all the signal needed for her to loop her legs around his waist while he deepened the kiss, movements now less gentle and cautious than before as the man found it hard to keep his cool around the girl any longer. He wondered if she knew-really knew how far he’d go for her and how much of an effect she had over him. Fawn really had him wrapped around her finger because the man knew that he’d get on his knees for her if she asked. Fawn’s back hit the cushion of the couch gently as Jimin’s hand held her head in his hand so she wouldn't hit it, lips never straying from each other. The mint gum the boy chewed earlier to curb the cigarette he smoked earlier clouding her senses,fingers tugging on his black strands gently. He hisses,detaching his lips from hers resulting in a popping sound that makes the both of them chuckle.

“Did I hurt you?”

Jimin shook his head softly. “ No baby.”

He had her distracted now and wanted to reward her for her courageous acts.

“I have something for you.”

Fawn laced her fingers with his, keeping eye contact with him.

“You do?”

The boy pecked her lips once before getting up to retrieve a stack of cash from his safe. Fawn sat up as she watched him come around the corner with his hand behind his back, a mischievous grin on his face.

“What are you doing?” The girl squealed at his antics.

The wad of cash is revealed to her eyes.

“Consider this your first paycheck.”

Fawn looked at the wad of cash with furrowed brows.

“How much is this?”

“Mm-roughly ten grand. If you need any more just come to me.”

“But-”

The job was left in the dust by the girl days ago but she felt as if this was too much for the boy to give her as an initial payment.

“As long as you’re with me you’ll never have to worry. I’m gonna take care of you.” His tone was sincere and honest. In such a short amount of time he was ready to give so much to her. All in exchange for her happiness.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Looking at him with fondness in her eyes she thought about how hopeless she felt at her job. Not a soul in sight to sooth her pain but somehow she had found the right soul that was ready to do anything for her.

Jimin stayed quiet, nearing her so that he could kiss her again,convincing himself that she was real and he hadn't conjured Fawn up in his fucked up head.

“I love you so fucking much.” he whispered into her mouth, taking her breath away with another all consuming touch of his lips. “Ready to do whatever it takes to keep you with me.”

Fawn’s heart feels like it plummets at his words. Fearful but delighted to hear how far he would go for her but she did not want much from him other than his presence, attention, and skin on hers at all times.

#bts fanfic #jimin au #thriller #au #jimin fic

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Seventeen

Previous Chapter Here

Warnings: Strong language and an air of discomfort.

Notes: I hope this reads OK as it’s quite dialogue-heavy.

Tags: @kelbabyblue @jennmurawski13

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

The night shifts weren’t all bad. From time to time, they were even as good as “pretty straight forward”. They proved especially useful when trying to finish patient notes and random admin that always got left to the very end of the shift. Perhaps they’d endure a tidy-out of the stock cupboards if the crew was feeling generous. Since O’Brien had taken up his post at the hospital years earlier, he had insisted upon mandatory training updates for the ER units every three to four months (the national average was about once a year) so the team were regularly reminded not to set fire to their computers and not to leave boxes in places people could trip over. You’d be surprised how often both those things happened in an emerging crisis. 

“I swear he thinks we’re idiots half the time.” Complained Jack, his head now glued to the palm of his hand. Jack was hurtling towards an early retirement thanks to an ever-increasing distrust of the corporate environment ER departments found themselves in. We trained to save lives, he’d say, not file stat reports. He was so right, it hurt. 

The crew was sat round the reception desk. The ER was empty except for a local homeless man the team allowed in from time to time to sleep off his latest drunken adventures. 

“Who doesn’t know how to bend their knees when lifting something heavy?” Jack asked again. 

“Ryan for one.” Sarah joked, pointing her cold cup of tea towards the fellow nurse in question. Ryan was a tall and skinny guy, not dissimilar to Alexander Skarsgard in the right light but with less charm although he had left a few of the interns swooning of late. Shanna quite liked him, too. 

“One time, Sarah. One time and I suffered for it greatly.” Ryan remarked, spinning a full 360 in his swivel chair. “Did you tick ‘agree’ or ‘strongly agree’ for question eleven?” 

“Oh, if you don’t tick ‘strongly agree’ even if you only ‘agree’, they mark you down a couple of percentage points.” Entered Audrey, slamming down a pile of files on the desk beside Sarah. Their nightly routine just got more interesting. “Just get it over with. It’s not worth the effort. It’s just O’Brien being obsessed with stats again. He turns everything into a competition. I swear it’s unhealthy.”

Ryan looked momentarily confused before returning to face his computer screen. He re-read the question for the fifth time and rubbed his eyes in resignation. Something about 3am made this far too complicated. 

“When did you even find time to do this, Aud?” Jack asked, turning back to Sarah and Audrey in time to witness their shared look self-satisfaction. “I’ve been sat here for half an hour and am still only part way through the first section.” 

“I logged in at home earlier.” she responded before catching Sarah’s quizzical look. “Well, Michael did most of it for me.” 

“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Jack, chucking his pen on the table, giving up. “Got no chance then, have I? Michael’s a bloody genius. Hey, how much for him to do mine?” 

“Normally I’d say $100 but he’s pretty cheap these days.” shrugged Audrey. “Probably a fancy cigar would do.” 

“He still grumpy about the you-know-what?” whispered Sarah to her friend when the guys started joshing between themselves. 

Audrey leaned back on the desk beside her and took the mug from Sarah’s hands to take a sip, grimacing slightly at the sweetness. For some reason, Sarah had to have at least three sugars in her tea if she was drinking it post-midnight. It helped to keep her more alert apparently. She didn’t drink it like that at any other time of the day. “No more than usual. Seems like we’re both unlucky in that department at the moment.” 

Sarah smiled at her in acknowledgement, lips thin before biting the inside of her cheek. 

Following their last meet-up, Chris had been decidedly quiet. Too quiet almost. It was weird. He hadn’t messaged her. He hadn’t called or visited their apartment except to collect a parcel he had left. Sarah has been out for a run at the time and had felt silently glad to have missed him. He hadn’t updated his twitter and there had been multiple sports events occurring that would have guaranteed a humblebrag or five. Shanna had pledged to buy rib-eye steaks for a Saturday night meal during a Celtics game and he had cancelled at the last minute citing an interview he had conveniently forgotten. Even Audrey thought it was weird. If anything was guaranteed to get his attention and bring him out of whatever funk he was in, it was the promise of sports and a ‘Grade A’ barbeque. 

Shanna merely put it down to his laziness or him having something better turn up. Scott had started replacing Chris around their apartment, wanting to get some of his own distance from the tricky Zach situation and it helped her feel better knowing he was at least in touch with him if Shanna wasn’t. He was evidently still alive. 

Sarah decided to swap a couple of daytime stints to partner up with Audrey for the nights. She needed the comfort of working with a good friend to calm her down from whatever ledge her anxiety had placed her on. 

“You know that he’ll come back, right?” Audrey interrupted her thoughts. Maybe Sarah spoke too soon. “Haven’t you got that birthday thing for Lisa coming up?” 

That trip was a couple of weeks away yet. She was trying to bank some reasonable excuses but everything sounded lame in the cold light of day and Lisa was never going to accept her not coming as well. Surely things would have smoothed themselves out by then? 

“This won’t just fix itself, hun, you’ll need to speak to him eventually. And the sooner the better.” 

It was like Audrey had a hotline straight into Sarah’s psyche. It was unnerving at the best of times. Sarah knew she was right of course. It’s just, a little bit of distance would be a good thing, right? Even Chris himself had offered that advice from time to time, and stressing herself out at this point almost seemed counterintuitive. 

“I reckon you could go in an hour or so if you wanted.” Audrey offered, nudging her friend with her elbow to bring her back into the room. “It’s dead out there.”

“I hope not.” Sarah joked, trying to lighten the mood. “We’d be shit at our jobs if that was the case.” 

Audrey laughed for the first time since Sarah could remember that day. It was moments like this that reminded her of why she enjoyed working alongside her so much, and why she didn’t mind if it resulted in overtime. 

“You wanna take patient referrals while I take the EPRs?” 

“How can I refuse an offer like that?” Sarah picked up the dozen or so documents sat in front of her and grabbed the nearest chair. Audrey told her she’d put the kettle on and nudged the guys still glued to their screens. Ryan had pretty much given up logical thinking and was now ticking random boxes. Jack was cursing under his breath. O’Brien was going to be in for a real treat when he could finally tabulate the responses. 

It was nearing 6.20am when Sarah and Audrey finally packed up to go. Matt and Stephanie had just arrived to take over for the morning, bringing a fresh perspective for the day. There wasn’t much for them to catch up on so it should be a smooth few hours at least. Sarah even ran a mop through the staff locker room as an added gift – Steph was a notorious clean freak – nearly tripping Greg up in the process. 

He’d been on leave for the past fortnight and his hair was a little longer than she remembered. A five o’clock shadow graced the lower part of his face and it suited him more than she thought it would. He had kept up with the informal tie-less attire and he seemed to be, dare she it, enjoying himself. 

“God, I’m so sorry.” She held her hands up in a mock mea culpa. “I was just gonna put it away before heading out. It was a stupid place to leave it.” 

“Did you not take the Health and Safety refresher?” he joked, rebalancing himself and trying to play down the redness creeping into his cheeks from the embarrassment of temporarily losing his footing in front of her. 

“You gonna rat me out to O’Brien? ‘Cos you know as well as I do that he doesn’t need yet another reason to know he’s right.” She shifted the mop and bucket and placed them back in the supply closet before reaching for her bag again. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He moved passed her before turning to face her again. “Tell you the truth, I ghosted the last couple of tabs myself. Who knew there were so many ways to ask questions about standing in elevators?” 

Sarah rolled her eyes in acknowledgement. “Yeh. I can’t wait to have the team meeting when he realises we’ve all pretty much done the same thing. That’s gonna be fun. I might finally take some of my holiday.” 

“Yeh, good plan. Hey listen,” His words stopped her in her tracks, feet from the exit. “Um, I know it’s been a while but I was wondering if you might want to reschedule that tennis match some time? Or if not, we could get some dinner or something? There’s that new sushi place on Reagan Street. It’s meant to be really good if you fancy it?” 

She was indeed familiar with that very restaurant thanks to the glowing reviews she had been unable to avoid since it opened. Audrey had only mentioned it a mere thousand times in her presence. Word was that bookings were now months in advance so she wasn’t sure how Greg was hoping to find a table unless he wanted to make plans with her in November. Given the number of commitments he always appeared to have going on, it wouldn’t be completely outside the realm of possibility. 

“Wow, I thought that place was fully booked?” 

“Yeh, it is, but I went to college with one of the investors and he’s promised me a one-off.” 

Of course he did. Sarah bit her bottom lip to stop herself from chuckling out loud, imagining Audrey’s face when she would inevitably find out. To be honest, she was genuinely surprised he was still showing a minor interest in her. When she finally made eye contact with him, his earnestness was practically shining. Had he always had perfect skin?  

“Um…” That was a good start, she thought. 

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal if you’d rather not.” He helpfully pre-empted her awkward rejection but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I’ve been meaning to go is all and I knew you liked sushi and figured it might be fun? They have live Jazz on Sunday nights.” 

When did he find out she liked sushi? And live Jazz? Just how much had Audrey told him about her? 

Realising she probably looked perplexed, she shuffled her shoulder strap back up onto her shoulder and tried to relax the awkwardness setting in between them. It was still quiet and no one was within earshot that she could figure out of her peripheral vision. 

“It’s not you, Greg, I promise. It’s just, I’m not really looking to get into anything right now. With anyone. Plus, we work together and…I’m sorry. I hope that’s OK?” 

“Hey, look, I promise it won’t be awkward. There’s absolutely no expectations from me and if you change your mind, just let me know, yeh? I literally know no one else who likes Sashimi so I can’t waste my only chance to get a table.” He chuckled and she felt more at ease. 

“If it’s any consolation, I’m a pretty crap date.” She smiled at him as she edged herself down the hall, putting space between them both literally and figuratively. “You wouldn’t be missing out.” 

“Oh, I doubt that somehow.” He returned her smile. “I’m serious, though. Just let me know. Anytime. No expiration date.” 

And with that, she had been left dumbfounded by two men in the space of a single week. 

* 

It would have been easier to get the early morning bus home at this time, as tired as she was starting to feel. She hadn’t slept well in the last few days and she had a creeping nausea from the lack of proper rest. The walk and crisp, fresh air might do her some good. It was practically full daylight even at this hour, and it was sometimes fun to watch people on their own way to work, huffing along, trying not to drop their coffees. 

The out-of-town school bus passed her a few minutes out from her apartment and as she rounded the corner, she got this weird sense that someone was watching her. Another corner turned and she could see her building in the near distance. Still, she couldn’t shake it. She stopped, pretending to fumble for her phone in her pocket and turned around swiftly to see a sweaty Chris stop a few steps behind her. 

It took her a moment to register it was in fact him, his beard fuller and a Red Sox cap pulled down low over his eyes. He had sweats and sneakers on and looked like he was on a run. Honestly, if someone else had spotted him from this distance, they would have worried he was going to attack her. 

“Hey,” she said, turning to fully face him. “What are you doing out at this time?” 

He didn’t respond at first. He shuffled from one foot to the other before grounding himself and taking a couple of steps towards her. Again, he shuffled back a step like he was rethinking his move. She didn’t appreciate seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. 

“Five months out from filming some pre-shoots so figured I’d make a start.” He finally spoke. Not a really a smile but he at least sounded OK. 

“Cool.” She said, nodding back at him. “Um, I’m not sure if Shanna is awake yet but do you want to come inside for some water or coffee?” 

“Yeh, that’d be great. Thanks.” 

She turned to continue walking on. For a few long moments, he stayed walking slightly behind her. A couple more strides and he had decided to catch up. The last time it had taken this long to walk this same street, she had been so drunk she had narrowly avoided falling into her neighbour’s front garden. 

“Five months? You’re not that out of shape.” She tried to make a joke. It was the only thing she could think of. Audrey would be eye-rolling like a champ if she could see them now. 

Chris knew she was trying to make small talk now so he decided to indulge her. It was a fair response, he thought - he was doing OK - as he followed her up the stairs deliberately keeping two or three behind her in an effort to keep it casual. 

“Oh, y’know. I fluctuate pretty easily. A few pizzas here and there and it’s game over.” 

They walked into her kitchen and she had been right in assuming Shanna was still asleep. Unless she had awoken really early but that was highly unlikely, unless there was a sale at Ted Baker she didn’t know about. 

He lingered in the doorway while she searched the fridge for a bottle of water. Grabbing one from the back, she turned to hand it to him expecting him to be within an arm’s reach from her but he had been distracted by something down the hall before turning back to her. Gratefully, he accepted it and walked into the kitchen to take up his usual spot leaning against the counter. 

“Sorry, did you say you wanted a coffee?” She offered. 

“Nah, I’m good. Can’t really take caffeine until this afternoon.” 

“Sorry. I always forget how strict it is.” She apologised, offering him a sympathetic smile. 

He took a long swig from the bottle, not breaking eye contact from her. “No need to apologise. You OK? Night shift?” 

“Yeh. Pretty quiet, thankfully.” 

“I’ve always meant to ask but what is it like, a night shift? I can’t work out if it would be worse or not.” 

She understood what he meant and laughed. “It can go either way to be honest but it’s been quiet the last few nights. Nothing crazy. I caught up with some paperwork, so…” She shrugged again, acutely aware of how boring she must sound. 

He nodded at her. “Aren’t people supposed to be crazier in the summertime?” 

“Well, kids are around more and families tend to spend more time together, so…” 

The apartment was unnervingly quiet now which was weird. She could hear the uptake in traffic outside which provided some relief that perhaps he couldn’t hear her heart beating out of her chest. She could make out some small sweat patches on his hoodie and it did something to her that she wasn’t expecting. Shaking the thought from her head, she turned to switch the kettle off. 

“What?” He asked. 

She jerked her head back around to face him. “Huh?” 

“You were thinking of something. Your neck just went red.” He smiled, tilting his head at her and relishing the look of surprise making its way over her features, knowing he’d caught her out. 

That was news to her. She knew she had “tells” but a red neck was not usually one of them. How come no one had ever told her about this? 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking with me or not.” She inquired, playfully narrowing her eyes at him in an effort to lighten the mood. 

He shrugged a shoulder at her, a smirk starting to cross his fine features. Joshing with her was good. She’d take that. A small step in the right direction. 

“Sometimes, it’s really obvious. You get it when you’re embarrassed about something, or when you try to lie. I’d never really noticed it before, but...” He paused. His expression started to turn more thoughtful and she wished he’d just continue to make fun of her instead. 

“Guess I won’t be playing poker anytime soon.” She finished the thought for him. 

“Yeh, no, you’d be rubbish at that. Just terrible.” He took another swig from his bottle and waited for her to throw something at him. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

The room went quiet again. She stirred her mug of coffee and offered him another chance at one which he politely refused although his discipline was waning slightly now he could smell it. 

“So this is fine.” He said after a couple of minutes, nodding in a slightly exaggerated manner. He looked out of the kitchen window. “We can do this, right? No awkwardness. No embarrassment. Just normal, everyday conversation.” 

“’Course,” she nodded in agreement. 

“Start as we mean to go on, right?” 

She nodded again. This felt like a trap and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Chris had a knack for saying and doing two different things at the same time, an intimidating ability that often put people on edge if he thought it would serve his purpose, whatever that may be. Probably the actor in him. When you called him out, he would aggressively defend himself which only served to prove the point you were making in the first place. 

Scott was the only one, truly, who knew when it was happening. It had taken Sarah years to get to a similar position but now, she wasn’t sure she was remotely close to it. 

“It’s as good a starting point as any, I guess.” She shrugged again, sipping from her cup. 

“So there’s no need to ignore me then.”  

“I haven’t been ignoring you, have I?” 

“You tell me. I’m just pre-empting it is all. I’m just saying we can still interact, you and me, if we need to. Like, it doesn’t always have to be in social settings with other people around.” He took a final drink from his bottle and turned to locate the recycling pot stashed away in the corner. Even with a mundane task, he always looked cool doing it. 

“So don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright then. That’s good to know.” She shot him a raised eyebrow which he caught and returned with a sly smirk. “I’m just trying to be sensible. We have to get this right or else there’s no point.” 

“I know, I get that, too.” If he wasn’t attempting to be serious before, he was now. He had a hand on his hip and seemed to have grown a few inches in height. “What do you think I’m trying to say?” 

“I…think I’m on the backfoot again and it’s weird.” She held a hand up in defence. 

“Hey, I’m just doing what we agreed, OK? I’m just following your rules.” 

“They’re not rules.” She struggled to regulate the volume in her voice in case she disturbed Shanna. “And you’re making it sound like I’m controlling the situation when I’m not. We both agreed on this. There’s no point being difficult about it.” 

Was he being difficult? Yes. Obviously, he was. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but happy definitely wasn’t it. Things were out of sorts and he hadn’t been able to eat carbs or sugar for four days so the withdrawal symptoms certainly weren’t helping. He should go easier on her. She was doing the thinking for the both of them. He should learn to be more grateful for that. 

He scratched the back of his head and let out an audible sigh in frustration. “I’ll try harder, I promise. We’ve got that cabin thing coming up with Mom, so…I promise I’ll be good.” 

He imitated the scout salute and she smiled at him, a smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

* 

Another night shift and Audrey and was starting to get suspicious. No one willingly switched for a night shift. For one thing, there was a disproportionate amount of recovery time. A couple of night shifts often took in excess of a week to recover from; a week that a nurse definitely did not have to spare. 

“He been buggin’ you?” she asked, finally growing tired of the silence. 

“Who?” Sarah looked up from the cabinet. “No, not really. We haven’t really spoken.” 

“So why are you ignoring him?” 

“I’m not ignoring him! Why does everyone think that?” 

“Who’s everyone?” 

Crap. Audrey had her there. Sarah open and closed her mouth without a sound coming out. She took a breath. “He’s not bugging me. He’s not. I’m just trying to limit the times we’re in the same place at the same time.” 

“Huh, you’d think he would at least allow you to have peace in your own home.”  

“Well, to be fair, he hasn’t been around all that much, but…at least I don’t have to worry about him showing up unannounced. It’s stupid but I feel way more awkward about him than I thought I would. It’s like I can’t even stand to be under his gaze.” 

Audrey glanced at her friend, wishing she could offer some words of comfort. Even for someone as verbose as she normally was, she was finding it a struggle. Sarah wasn’t much looking for words of comfort at the given time either. She was all too aware of the predicament she was in and how much responsibility laid at her feet. In her mind, waiting it out was the only logical solution she could come up with. The only logical solution that didn’t require more conversations with someone who could feasibly run rings around her “theory” that if they just stayed apart for a little while, they would suddenly and magically forget about the past couple of months. 

They stayed filing documents in silence again, the air seemingly getting thicker. 

“You ever spoken with someone and it’s like they’re thinking the complete opposite of what’s coming out of their mouth?” Sarah huffed while shoving the cabinet drawer closed. 

“Not really. That person’s usually me.” 

“But why?” she asked. “Why can’t you just be normal?”  

“I mean, it’s not my go-to response of course. It’s normally reserved for occasions when I am trying to indulge someone because I know they’re talking bullshit. Like, when I know Mike has been gambling but he tries to deny it? It’s just easier to figure him out that way.” 

Sarah froze to the spot, looking at her friend. She breathed a heavy sigh and turned to lean back on the table behind her and crossed her arms. She stared at her shoes for a second. 

“Chris is a smart guy. I’ll give him that.” Audrey muttered loudly so she was sure Sarah could hear. 

“Give me something! I’m your friend here.” She implored her before chuckling to herself at Audrey’s face and her own apparent lack of self-awareness. 

“You know what I think? You’ve probably got withdrawal symptoms from the all the amazing sex you’ve had and now you’re sulking. I think you should get back on that horse and let him fuck you again. That’s what this is.” 

Sarah eyed her friend again. For once, she would love to hear someone tell her that she was right. “That’s really not helping, y’know.” 

“And this is?!” Audrey’s shriller tone cut through the dry air, smacking Sarah right in the face. “Honey, this isn’t healthy. You hiding out in the hospital and treating it like your own solace is not healthy at all. I love you but you are your own worst enemy.” 

“Alright, thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you for your unswerving efforts to be honest with me at all times and not, like a normal pal, be comforting in any way.” Sarah comically bowed to her friend before considering leaving the office. She would have followed through with the idea as well if it wasn’t for the cosy warmth of O’Brien’s office versus the coldness of the ER department thanks to a leaking pipe. “It’s difficult. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna fall out with you, Audrey.” 

Audrey just smiled at her. “I don’t know why you think you have to be the beacon of morality all the time, Sarah. Take a look around. No one else is. We all out here just trying to live our lives as best we can and a part of that is taking advantage of moments of happiness when we find them.” 

Something about what Audrey was saying did resonate with her but comparing two months of happiness with Chris to ten years with Shanna was not something she could in good conscience do. Shanna was her security blanket. She provided a comfort of living with someone with shared life experience, of knowing how little you thought about yourself because you were given up as a baby. Honestly, from the very first day they had met, Sarah felt lucky to know her. 

Yes, Shanna could be immature at times. Maybe a little selfish. She would often get carried away with trivial things and wasn’t the most reliable person, but what Sarah got in return was worth that and more. Her family enjoyed highlighting the maternal care Sarah would have to provide to someone who was seven months older than she was, but honestly it didn’t matter. 

Maybe this was one of the rare occasions where Audrey was wrong. 

Chris was a fling at best, Sarah told herself, when she was lying in bed struggling to fall asleep. When she was cold and missing his arms around her. They were both having shitty times and they both got something out of it. That was what Chris had said himself at the very beginning. 

Chris 08.15am: You home? Shanna said you were working late again 

It was like he knew she would be thinking about him. 

Chris 08.17am: I really dont want u ignoring me all the time. This is hard for me right now as well 

Fuck. 

Sarah 08.21am: I kno. I’m so sorry I made you feel like that :(

He didn’t respond. She thought she saw the tell-tale three dots of him writing something but nothing appeared. Giving up on sleep, she got up and headed into the kitchen. Shanna had left her some bacon in the fridge and a fresh bread bun on the side so she turned on the grill and set about making some coffee. 

She felt strangely awake for this time and the apartment was nice and warm from the bright sunshine streaming in from all corners. Maybe a run would help. Or a cold shower.  

Chris 08.44am: I wanna be honest with u but I dont think u want that 

Chris 08.45am: so what do i do?? 

Fuck knows. 

Chris 08.51am: Can I come over? 

Sarah 08.54am: that’s not a good idea 

Chris 08.55am: cos you know what will happen? 

Chris 08.56am: what does that tell you?? 

She was sure he was nursing some kind of hangover or, quite possibly, he was still a little bit drunk. There were two responses she could give, she figured. The first would be her usual denial and perhaps an excuse that she was busy or working later than planned. The second, and ultimately the one she opted for, was to agree with him. 

Sarah 09.05am: I know what it tells me. That’s why I’m saying you shouldn’t come over 

Another three dots followed. There was only so many times they could go around and around in circles and as much as Audrey’s words made sense to her, it felt like she had to make the effort to regain some normality. 

He didn’t respond. She stared at her phone for an age but nothing came through. Maybe he got the message? Maybe he had fallen asleep. She was both relieved and suspicious; Chris wasn’t someone who backed down from an argument when he thought he was right. He had said as much himself. 

She turned the grill off, having lost her appetite. A run might make more sense and could help clear her head. 

She couldn’t sit around waiting for Chris to make his next move. 

*

#Chris evans #chris evans fic #evans fic #fanfiction #clear the area #sarah bernette #chris evans x original female character

[advena87]

Keira and Lambert’s love story Part 2

Here is Part 1

Another episode of Keira and Lambert's love story because I have a lot of fun with these incorrect quotes. Here again comes the case of the child of surprise, about which I wrote earlier > here <. And I even have an idea where the Kid would come from and I think I will include it in some fanfic... I mean, I'm pretty sure Keira and Lambert would be hilarious as parents. And although they would have no idea how to raise a child, they would accidentally do a good job.

Anyway, enjoy!

.

Triss: What do you look for in a guy?

Keira: I don’t know, real stuff. Shape of his ass.

*later*

Lambert: If Keira sees this, she’s going to think I’m an idiot.

Geralt: And this would be news to her how?

Lambert: Look, let's be serious for a moment, I really need your advice. I haven’t dated in a while, but there’s a good reason for that.

Geralt: Two good reasons: your face and your personality.

Triss: Then you're lucky Lambert, that Keira cares about a good ass only.

Lambert: What the fuck, Merigold, how long have you been here?

***

Keira: *Pulls curtain back while Lambert is in the shower*

Keira: Are we - stop screaming, it’s just me - are we out of doritos?

*later*

*Geralt comes to Corvo Bianco and finds Lambert and Keira hanging out in the living room*

Geralt: Uh, hello, people who do not live here.

Keira: Oh, hi Geralt.

Geralt: You know, I gave you the key for emergencies.

Lambert: We were out of doritos.

***

*Geralt, Yennefer, Triss and Eskel are having breakfast in Corvo Bianco when Lambert  comes in, covered in glitters.*

Lambert: Ok, which of you fuckfaces put stripper glitters in my shower gel?

Keira: That’s why we’re late. We figured why not take advantage of this situation.

*Cut to Lambert dancing like a chippendale while Keira is throwing dollars bills at him.*

*Later, Triss tucks a dollar under the hem of his pants.*

Lambert: *gasp* It was you, Merigold!

***

*Keira and Lambert are arguing, in Corvo Bianco with Geralt and Eskel nearby*

Lambert: Woman, as your husband I command you!

Geralt: We’ll leave and give you guys some privacy…

*Witchers exits the room*

Keira: You, wanna take back that “I command you” thing?

Lambert: Please, can I?

***

Keira, jokingly: I should have Lambert kill you for that.

Lambert, materializing beside her: Who do I need to kill?

Keira : Wh- no, I was just kidding around.

Lambert, pulling out a sword: Now, who’s bothering you?

Keira: Just so you know Lambert, if you go to prison for that, I will not wait for you.

Lambert: You won’t have to. I’ll escape, we both know that.

***

Keira: When I said bring me back something from the beach, I meant like, a shell.

Lambert, struggling to hold onto a seagull: Well you didn’t fucking say that!

***

Lambert: I would like to say that I was wrong, and I’m very very sorry.

Keira, sternly: About what?

Lambert: What do you got?

***

Keira: You know I hate it when you make up words, Lambert.

Lambert: Are you still mad at me for saying “snaccident”?

Keira: Yes.

Lambert, sighing: Well apparently, relationships are mostly just apologizing for saying something hilarious. Am I right, Babe?

Keira: I’m almost certain you’re not, but to be fair I wasn’t listening.

***

Lambert: Our house is burning and you can save the cake or me. What do you choose?

Keira: That’s not fair. The cake doesn’t have legs.

***

Keira, watching the news: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.

Lambert, covered in ink: Maybe the squid was being a dick!

***

Lambert: Keira, you were right, you were right about everything.

Keira: I know, Lambert, but I need you to be more specific.

***

Kid: Mommy, where do people go when they die?

Keira: I don’t know, did you check under your bed?

Kid: …

Keira: Good night honey!

***

Keira: Okay, you’d better be going to bed at a reasonable hour, don’t make me tuck you in and kiss you goodnight.

Kid: Don’t threaten me with a good time.

Keira: Last warning before I sing a lullaby.

Kid: No, not a lullaby! Okay, I'm going to sleep but I need you to check under the bed for monsters.

Keira: Listen, I appreciate your confidence in me but if there’s a monster under there, it’s going to kill us both.

Kid, with panic: MOM!

Keira: Ok, this requires drastic measures.

Keira: Lambert!

Lambert, entering the room with a sword in his hand: No fear! I'll take care of this monster!

* Lambert gets under the bed, the sounds of fight are heard.*

Lambert from under the bed: You son of a bitch! Eat this! I don’t fucking think so! Begone! Die!

Lambert, coming out from under the bed, covered with red: It's all right, princess, the monster is dead.

* later, after leaving the Kid's room *

Keira: We have to stop doing this, this isn’t good for her mental health. She will be traumatized or something.

Lambert, licking the ketchup from his face: Oh, come on! I'm her hero!

***

Keira, about Kid: And now she sleeps with a sword, Lambert.

Lambert: Is that true?

Kid: Sort of. Sometimes. Yes.

Lambert: Good girl.

***

* Kid brings home bad grades from school *

Lambert: Don't worry, I was never a valedictorian myself. Vesemir said I lacked certain necessary qualities.

Kid: Like what?

Lambert: Like the ability to behave myself.

***

Lambert, on the phone: OK Kid, tell me what’s happening. Give me a full report.

Kid: Yeah, I’m still eating that candy. Do you want… do you want me to keep eating it?

Lambert: How much have you had?

Kid: Two or three bowls.

Lambert: Can you still see straight?

Kid: Sort of.

Lambert: That means you’re fine.

***

*It's Lambert's turn to play with Kid*

Keira: Is that my bra? What are you doing with my bra?

Lambert: Oh, no, no, it’s not what you think. We just used it to fling water ballons off the roof.

***

* Lambert teaches their daughter how to fight drowners *

Lambert: Go get 'im, Tiger!

Kid: *attacks, puts a bomb in the drowner's mouth and bursts its head *

Lambert: Oh, I so pity the dude who pressures her into prom sex.

Keira: That’s a lie.

Lambert: *smiling maniacally*

*later he teaches her how to fight a specter*

Lambert: If a ghost picks a fight with you, put this oil on your sword, lure it into the trap and remember: someone already killed that motherfucker once.

***

Lambert: Hey girl. What’s going on?

Kid: Teenage rebellion.

Lambert: Fuck yeah! Stick it to the old people.

Keira: Lambert, stop encouraging her!

***

*Keira and Lambert are kissing*

Kid: Get a room.

Keira: We have one.

Kid: I know. Use it.

***

Keira: Kid’s boyfriend is picking her up at seven.

Lambert: I can’t wait to beat him.

Keira: Meet him.

Lambert: That’s what I said.

*later*

Boyfriend: Is this the part where you say if I hurt her, you’ll kill me ?

Lambert: No, if you hurt her she’s quite capable of killing you herself. Possibly with a variety of weapons. I trained her well, she is a ruthless killing machine.

Keira: That's not true, don’t listen to him. I mean, yes, she is able to kill you in three seconds and never forget about that, but she is a spoiled daddy's girl. She will totally ask Lambert to break your spine if you hurt her.

*later*

Boyfriend: Your parents are funny, these were good jokes.

Kid, deadpan: They weren’t joking

#witcher #witcher 3 #tw3 #keira x lambert #lambert x keira #lambert #witcher lambert #keira #keira metz #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #triss merigold #yennefer from vengerberg #witcher eskel #eskel #eskel x triss #corvo bianco #child of suprise #love story #incorrect witcher quotes #incorrect quotes #incorrect witcher

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXI: Treant

There wasn’t much interesting about me. Not really. That wasn’t me being self-deprecating or anything. If anything, I quite liked being in the background. Others around me have always been more interesting, and I was happy enough just to help those others out.

That’s why I worked from childhood through my adulthood in order to become a doctor. It wasn’t like a total dream of mine, and I wasn’t sure if I’d call myself “passionate” (one of my top qualities, I think, is that I’ve been called a dispassionate person. But I shouldn’t humblebrag), but when I was in grade school and saw one of my classmates get injured, I couldn’t help but be compelled to want to help them. Then there were times, like when my sister or my mom would get sick and I’d be like “gee, I wonder what would help them get better.”

Skip past many years of boring details, and the rest is history. Got my own apartment after completing my internship at one of the nearby hospitals. When my sister helped me move in, we found a time travel device in the closet that I mistook for a Nintendo 64. It’s not as interesting of a detail as it seems. Anyway, that aside, there was still work to be had just about every day.

Skip ahead a few more years after that…

...And there was still work to be had.

It was about that time in the morning when it wasn’t yet bright and early and the coffee I poured tasted like sludge. When the showers were scalding and suffocating fumes filled the bathroom, yet when I turned off the shower, I shivered like a nudist at the north pole.

Towel was too small. Quick shimmy and I groaned and threw it in the laundry basket. No one else was around to see me naked, so whatever. Even if there was, my bedroom door was closed. On the bed were my work clothes, which in my groggy state, I tried to fit the shirt on my legs and the pants on my head. After a few tries and tired moans and groans, I got it right. Still, my tie was a little loose.

I’ll fix it on my way there. Or I won’t and I’ll just say I’m setting a new fashion trend.

I glanced down at my limited edition Kamen Rider Black wristwatch and my blood pressure spiked upon noticing the time.

“Fuck,” I cursed, though in my hoarse tiredness, it sounded more like a donkey braying.

Yes, it was ‘fucktime’, that universal concept of that time of day where one looks at the time and exclaims “fuck!” There were many reasons for cursing at a time of day, and it didn’t have to be any time in particular, but the most common reason was due to the situation I was in: I was running late for work.

In a state of fight or flight (which I am always in flight since I could use the exercise), I put a couple of bagel slices into the toaster, wished that my toaster had a turbo speed button, and paced about until those two slices popped up; they weren’t crispy enough, but they’d have to do. Like the skilled painter that I wasn’t, I swiped across the two halves of the bagel with a messy gloop of cream cheese.

No more time left.

I ran out the door, or whatever constituted as a run in my mind, with the bagel halves held tight in my mouth.

This ridiculous display persisted for about...oh, to hell with it, let’s just skip all the embarrassment. Fast forward to when I got to the hospital, drenched in sweat and cream cheese on the cuff of my shirt.

“Ran late again?” The receptionist, I think her name was Wormwood, looked up from her computer. Her thick brown hair was in a bun and she didn’t just have bags under her eyes, but bags under those bags. That’s okay, I’ve had those days as well. From the reflection of her glasses, it looked like she was playing an intense game of Tetris.

“A doctor is never early nor late,” I huffed, trying to sound more self-assured than my short breath would allow.

“Yeah, you wish. Go change your shirt. You’ve got a patient waiting for you in room 413,” she clucked. Was clucked the right descriptor? Well, it was a vague chicken-like tone, so cluck was good enough.

“Why’s it always patients with me?” I joked. She didn’t so much as give a half-hearted chuckle. She could have at least said, “A for effort,” but I guess everyone was a critic. I hurried over to the hospital’s resident dry cleaner, who always had a spare pair of uniforms, scrubs, nice shirts, you name it. Our dry cleaner guy was a typical average dude with stringy red hair, named Marion or something. He always had that strung out look about him that gave the impression that he was pretty trustworthy. I showed him the cream cheese on my shirt and he made an OK sign with both hands, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

“Say no more,” he assured me in the most endearing bored-out-of-your-mind voice imaginable.

As I waited for him to grab me a spare shirt, I looked up and saw a couple of green scrubs hanging around.

“I can’t do this on my own. I’m no superman,” I hummed the tune. Marion (that might not have been his name, but it was pretty damn close to what I imagine his name was) turned and asked, “what?”

“You know, Scrubs? It’s a reference.”

“Oh, man, I don’t know the first thing about references,” he bemoaned in both a disinterested tone and a disoriented one.

Man, nobody appreciates a good reference these days.

After I received my change of shirt, I went into the nearest bathroom and speedran the Trent Dress Up game. Not to brag, but I might have set a new record that day. Okay. Moving on.

Up four flights of stairs I lumbered up, each foot dragged behind the other. Yes, I could have used the elevator, but then that wouldn’t have been very doctor-like of me, would it? I mean, plenty of doctors took the elevator, and there was nothing wrong with that, but I always tried to do healthy things. It didn’t really matter much, I mean, I was already healthy, I was just a little chubby, was all. So what? I was a big ol’ teddy bear in a lab coat. At least I rocked the look.

Twelve rooms down. Then the thirteenth: that was where I heard the assistant.

“Dr. Bark will see you now,” the assistant informed the patient. After she left, which I didn’t really get a good look at, but I’ve probably worked with her before, I opened the door and greeted the patient.

“Woof, woof!” I made my best dog voice, which probably sounded closer to a howler monkey than a dog.

My patient just looked at me, not amused in the slightest. He was an elderly man who looked like a bad caricature of an elderly man. Not one of the kind ones, either. No, more like the grumpy kind who would yell at you if you so much as lived in the general vicinity of the same neighborhood he lived in. Then again, I knew looks could be deceiving and if anything, his face was probably contorted in pain.

“Okay, so I’m not that clown doctor, but if you honk my nose, I will still make a sound,” I gave a nervous laugh as I said. He just continued to stare at me.

It turned out that he had a small seizure just as I entered the room. Lovely timing, really.

Before I could take a break and have some lunch, there were a few more fun moments, gross moments, sad moments, silly moments, the whole gamut. Really, I loved my job because there were many opportunities to treat others and get them to better health. But also I hated my job because it was a job and I hated being the bearer of big bills due to the malicious concept of private insurance.

My sister-in-law was always going on about how I should be more ambitious. How I could try to start my own clinic and treat people for free, out of the kindness of my heart. Which I loved, that really was a dream if I ever had one. But there was the matter of means. Equipment costs money, I’d need more space, I’d have to get all those good prescription drugs that all the cool cats liked. I wasn’t even sure if I could do it, legally.

But hey, if it were possible, I’d do it. For sure. Maybe.

Once I made it to the hospital’s cafeteria, I grabbed a lobster salad with a garlic roll and a pink lady apple for an extra layer of irony. It was ironic because no matter how many times I ate one of those, I could never keep myself away from the hospital. Shame, too. The busier I was, the less time I had to play Monster Hunter.

Anyway, as I looked for a place to sit, I hummed a tune I heard over the radio.

“Don’t call my name, don’t call my name, Alejandro. Fernando,” I hummed. Or rather, mumbled. Because I knew for a fact that I said those words out loud, whether or not I should have saved myself the embarrassment.

“Yes?” Crooned the seductive and husky toned voice of a man I didn’t recognize. I looked around, then noticed that the owner of such a voice was seated all by his lonesome at a table in the middle of the cafeteria.

Oh good, finally a table that’s not crowded.

I made the no-brainer decision to sit across from him at the table. His head sported a vast field of curly black hair as well as the stubble-laden remnants of a rugged black mustache. He reminded me of the guy from that Just Cause series of games, though not sure why, as I’ve never played them, though I had to admit, grappling hooks were pretty cool.

“Did you say something?” I stared into his inviting rosemary colored eyes. Mostly because I felt it rude if I didn’t. Imagine if someone did that to me, just looked away when they spoke to me. Actually, that’s probably happened many times.

“You said my name,” he replied, more plain this time, without as much of a soothing effect, but no less friendly.

“Oh? Alejandro?” I blinked, unaware that I had said anyone’s name.

“No, Fernando, but you may call me Fern. Everyone does,” he smiled as he told me, a smile as soothing as his voice could be.

“Well, I certainly wanna do what everyone else is doing,” I chuckled. “I’m Trent, by the way.”

He gave a slow nod.

“What a beautiful name. Do you know who does the song that you were singing?”

Oh god, if ever there was a time to be embarrassed.

“I just heard the song on the radio! I don’t know anything about it, I just thought it was kinda catchy.”

“I’ll give you a hint: it starts with ‘Lady’.”

Fuck. I was bad at guessing games.

“Lady and the Tramp?”

“No.”

“Lady Marmaduke?”

“No. You have three more guesses.”

Wait. He never said I had a limit of five. Now I was really feeling the pressure.

“Lady Groudon?”

“Close.”

Oh! Now I knew what it was!

“Lady Goomy!”

“...No, not quite. But really close.”

Damn. I only had one guess left, too. The heat was really on now.

“Lady Gloop?”

He bit his lip trying to hold back laughter, but couldn’t, and it all came flooding out.

“Um, did I win?” I wasn’t sure what to make of that laughter, but I had to know. I just HAD to know.

After he settled down, he shook his head and with an aching calm assured me:

“It’s not important.”

“Well, what is important, then?” I grimaced, the answer not given to me.

“The lives of our patients are what’s important.”

Yeah, that seemed a little obvious, though, considering our professions and all. Actually, I wasn’t quite sure whether he was a doctor or not. I didn’t recall ever working with him.

“What do you do here, by the way?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m a nurse, mi amor.”

Once he said that, everything clicked into place.

“No wonder you’ve got that gentle voice,” I observed.

“I don’t have to be gentle if you don’t want me to be.”

“No, no,” I shook my head. “For the sake of the patients, I think you ought to be.”

We went back and forth after that, chatting about this and that, though nothing really important. Really, it was nice, I didn’t usually chat with anyone. Afterward, however, it was back to the grind. Oh joy.

Once said day one was done, I flopped on home and collapsed on my sofa. Next to me was a controller, and I had bought my copy of Final Fantasy XVI the other day, but haven’t had a chance to play it.

“My body...too feeble…” I wheezed out the words as my hands shook trying to reach for the controller. Just as it seemed like the controller was within my grasp, my phone rang.

When there was something in closer proximity than the item that I really wanted, the natural urge was to reach for the one in closer proximity instead.

“Hey Trent. It’s me,” came the sudden and to the point tone of my sister-in-law: Vesuvius.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” I snapped to my senses and sat right up. “Is everything okay? Nothing too serious, I hope.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ve got a nice little apartment with my beautiful wife. I just haven’t spoken to you in a while and wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Oh, what a relief. I was worried you were having another mental health episode.”

“Hey! I don’t go around pointing out the time you had food poisoning, do I?” She scolded. Yeah, okay. That was fair.

She didn’t have many mental health episodes, but ever since that incident with her and Juniper’s stalkers, she had been more sensitive and more on edge. That said, I really was happy for her and that she was at peace.

“You’re right. God, that was a rough time. Who knew blueberries could be so poisonous?”

“All things in nature can,” she stated. Gee, if anyone knew that, it would’ve been her.

“How are all things with settling into the apartment?” I asked. She hadn’t been there long, but it was a bold step for her, considering her social anxiety, which she tried to act like she didn’t have.

“You know, it’s an adjustment. It gets lonely when Juniper isn’t home. I’m not used to her having anything resembling a job. I hate to sound possessive, but I don’t like that she has one. I wish we didn’t have to make money to live.”

“Be as possessive as you want,” I chuckled. “Er...within reason. Say, have you saved up for anything?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, you always go on about wanting to do that whole ‘cottagecore’ lifestyle thing. So maybe you could save for that and go for it?”

She drew a deep breath, as if she were about to blow a gust of wind out of every orifice.

“First off, I don’t know what a ‘cottagecore’ is, but I’m cautious around anything with the suffix of -core. You know I’m a delicate flower.”

“And a poisonous one,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well, poisonous flowers can be delicate. And hey! Be nice to me!”

I coughed up a chuckle.

“Okay, well, second off,” she continued. “What I want is to live off the land, in a field of flowers. Growing my own field. Having peace and quiet in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, that’s cottagecore.”

“Don’t say words I don’t understand to me!” She scolded. “It’s really demeaning.”

“Okay, okay,” I tried to settle down with the teasing. “But for real, it’s not like it’s impossible. Juniper could build a house, she likes making things.” Then again, she probably wouldn’t build a house very well, but I’m sure she’d enjoy the attempt. “It may take a bit of money for the resources, but it’s not like it’s impossible.”

“Yeah, well, first thing’s first is I want to see a therapist. Like, an actual therapist.”

“Oh, that could be good for you.”

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed, and the tone of her voice shifted to a more mournful one. “I still remember how I was during that time. I have trouble believing that it’s really over. All of that pain lingers with me. It’s not something I wish to remember, but it’s something I’m unable to forget.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too bad,” I tried to reassure her. I assumed she was referring to the whole stalker incident that occurred at the same time she dealt with her mental health episode. “Everyone has a breaking point. There’s nothing to be ashamed of there.”

“No, but there is. I was confused. Desperate. I hurt the most important person in my life. I hurt someone else that I could have helped. That I could have saved. If I had just known how. If my mind was more clear back then,” her voice shifted into a growl. “I hate it. I hate inflicting pain. Especially because it’s not who I want to be. No who I am anymore,” her voice then grew sharper. Harsher. “Yet I can’t help but feel like it’s still with me, buried somewhere, and I just want to punch a wall, rip my hair out, something! Something to cut this off from me!”

“Hey, hey,” I could tell she was working herself up. “You and Juniper are both sensitive people. Sometimes people lash out when their emotions are heightened. It doesn’t mean you’re bad or anything, but you can work on it. For what it’s worth, I do think you two are good together.”

“Thank you,” her voice quieted back to the mournful tone it was at first and I could hear sniffling and weeping in the background. “I’m sorry. I told myself I would keep composed and yet I went off into that rant. Gee, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a better therapist than the one I pretended to be.”

“Heh. It’s nothing. You’ve definitely been through a lot. Get yourself some tea or something, that might help.”

“Thanks,” she sniffled again. “What about you? Is there anything new with you?”

“Eh. Same ol’ boring stuff at the hospital. People get sick and die, some people get better.”

“To which?” She let out a weak chuckle.

“Oh, definitely the sick part. I’ve yet to someone get better from being dead, but anything can happen. Fingers crossed, right?”

“Heh…so there’s nothing new at all? What about at the house? I bet you’re glad to have Juniper and I out of your hair.”

“Eh. You guys weren’t that bad to deal with.”

“That’s a relief. Do you miss us?”

“Hmm...a bit. It’s a bit quiet now, but I like it. Means I can play video games in peace and walk around the apartment in my underwear.”

“Indeed, that is a positive. Though I didn’t need to hear the last part.”

I tried to think about anything of substance I could actually talk about.

“Oh! I met someone new at the hospital today! This nurse named Fern. He’s got these beautiful murky green eyes and maze-like curly dark hair. Oh, and his mustache. I bet I’d be ticklish if it rubbed against me,” I announced with a sense of excitement at the prospect of actually having something to say.

“Are you attracted to this Fern person?” She inquired.

While I didn’t quite know where she got that idea from, I wasn’t going to say that he was ugly or anything like that.

“I’m certainly not repelled by him,” I joked. Heh. Magnets. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, since you described him in such exquisite detail.”

“Eh. Isn’t it normal to describe people you talk about?”

“Not in my experience. Not like that, anyway. But hey, what do I know?”

“Yeah, well, I just met him today, so I doubt I’ll describe him every time I talk about him. He seems nice, in any case. Hey, maybe the four of us could play D&D together sometime?” I perked up at the prospect of having someone else to play D&D with. That was the most important thing about meeting someone. If not D&D, maybe I could gush about 80s Sci-Fi movies or J-RPGs.

“I don’t know...that game always brings out the worst in me...I try to be a healer but whenever I encounter a monster I just want to grind them into dust and then I curse the fact that I didn’t pick a class like barbarian.”

“Heh. That is a problem. You could always just be a barbarian.”

“No. I don’t want to,” I could tell she stuck her nose up just by her tone of voice alone.

“In any case, we gotta get this going on! We never seem to finish a campaign!” I was SO pumped to get this thing going on.

“That’s because I always either quit out of frustration or you end up too busy and we decide to start over from a new campaign as soon as you have free time again,” she pointed out. At least she was honest.

“We’ll figure something out, I’m sure!”

“Mm...well, it was nice talking with you, Trent. I’m glad you seem to be doing well, and good luck with this Fern person.”

“Thanks! You take care too! Bye!”

We hung up and I spent the rest of the day being an exhausted nerdy Trenty bear who somehow did nothing yet time still passed.

As the days went by, I’d spend lunch having conversations with Fern and he said I could talk about whatever I was passionate about, so OF COURSE a bunch of nerdy shit came up.

“About halfway through the game, she dies, but you can get her final limit break later on. This is a way to show that she’s still with the party in spirit and the party keeps it as a memento, even though they know they cannot use it, OR they refuse to use it to honor her memory.”

“I see. And it’s not just the developers making a mistake?” Fern pondered. The gall.

“No way. Game developers wouldn’t just do that. In fact, you can hack the game to make it so Aerith lives, by coming back after she dies, but she’ll say at a certain point, ‘I’m not supposed to be here’. That’s because the developers knew that players would try to bring her back, so they were prepared.”

“Wow. That really is haunting,” he looked moved by my explanation. As he should be.

“The game devs were also brilliant for making her and Cloud be besties instead of a romantic interest. There’s a part where Cloud and Aerith go on a date on a ferris wheel and right before they go on the ferris wheel, Aerith turns to cloud and goes ‘wa...wassup homie?’ and Cloud says, ‘golly gee’ in response. By having them be besties, it shows the importance of friendships over romantic relationships. It’s actually shown in a prequel that Cloud had a boyfriend named Zack, but despite it being canon, many fans prefer to act like the game doesn’t exist.”

“That’s a wonderful message for them to show,” he nodded along.

“Yeah. So anyway, Zack dies in the prequel.”

“Damn. This Cloud guy just can’t catch a break.”

Before I was able to continue the conversation further, I received a beep on my pager.

“...And neither can I. I gotta split.”

That was how our typical conversations went. I did most of the talking while he stared and smiled the whole way through. Most of the time, I didn’t mind that, but it also meant that I didn’t know much about him. He hardly seemed like the mysterious type, and I should’ve known the mysterious type due to the people I’ve let in my apartment in the past.

So the next chance we got I decided I’d hold nothing back. We both sat together, once again with our lunches in front of us, and I popped the question:

“Do you have any siblings?” I was casual as I asked him, plain as day with an egg and lettuce sandwich in my hands. He tilted his head and rested it on his palm, looking even more radiant than usual.

“Why yes. I have four sisters. Two of them are engaged. One of them’s married. The fourth one is still looking for love.”

“Oh wow,” I replied. “You know, you could tell her that she doesn’t have to find love. It’s not the be-all and end-all, after all.”

“I think she already knows that. Still, she wouldn’t mind the experience. What about you, Trent?” He spoke my name with such a delicacy that it made my heart tackle the walls of my chest.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “I’ve got a sister. I don’t even know why you mentioned relationships since I just asked about siblings, but she’s in one. I mean, she’s married, so I guess I’ve also got a sister-in-law. If that counts as another sibling, then I’ve got two sisters, maybe?”

He coughed up a chuckle against his fist.

“Love is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess it can be.”

For some reason that simple exchange reminded me of an early memory when Juniper and I were kids and we shared a room, bunk beds, in fact.

She hung upside down from the edge of the top bunk of the bed. I always did tell her to be careful, but she never was good at listening to me.

“Hey bro, bro, bruh, bruv,” she pestered me.

“What is it?” I looked up from the book I was reading.

She held down a magazine with pictures of women in hiking gear.

“Look! Aren’t those girls cute? Aren’t they your type?” She pressed it up to my face. Or as well up to my face as she could. Her aim wasn’t the best when she hung upside down. Nevertheless, I took a glance. Of course, as I was more interested in the book I was reading, I didn’t really pay attention.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Not satisfied, she grew in intensity.

“Come on! You didn’t look!”

“Yeah I did!” I shot back. “I’m just more interested in this book right now! You have no idea how cool the Shannara novels are!” Oh, but I wasn’t done. “Also, I’m pretty sure those are your type, not mine!”

She stuck her tongue out.

“What even is your type?” She teased.

I shrugged. Really, I didn’t know then, and even into my 30s, as a doctor, I had no idea if I even had a type. For anyone. After a pause, she then asked.

“Do you think you’d ever have a crush on anyone?”

I gave it some thought. Then, as if it was a no brainer, it clicked.

“If someone was actually interested in me, sure! But c’mon, I’m a nerd. You know how hard it is for people like me.”

She scowled at that.

“That’s just a myth. That shouldn’t stop you.”

She was right. Both back then, and in the present, if she were to tell me that again. But over the years, I grew to have a different excuse.

“Would you ever be open to the idea of love?” Fern’s question brought me out of the memory, back to the moment that I shared with him.

I shrugged.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind. If the opportunity were to occur. But then, I’m always too busy to think about things like that, so it’s never really crossed my mind. I’m sure you can relate, seeing as you’re probably about as busy as I am.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “But it has its advantages.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like how we can spend the same amount of time together.”

Oh yeah. That was a really good point.

“Heh. It is nice to have someone to chat with,” I agreed.

It was a surprise how little time had passed, but I was glad for it. Considering how unpredictable this job could be, I had to be thankful for any precious minutes I got.

“Let’s not worry about that. If we run out of time, we can pick it up another day. So what do you say?”

“So tell me, how did your sister meet her lover?” His curiosity took me by surprise. Not something I thought would be worth asking, but who was I to say what someone did and didn’t find interesting?

All right. So I told him. It seemed he just had that kind of effect on me.

Maybe it was a little cliché, I don’t know, because I don’t know what constitutes as cliché, but it was a rainy evening. I had just gotten off work, I had my umbrella, but it seemed to do me little good as there was a mighty gust of wind and the rain just slid down the umbrella and managed to force itself onto my jacket.

On the way home, I took a shortcut through a side street. I guess it was like an alleyway, but more open. I don’t know, side street sounds appropriate. Curled up underneath the cover of a building’s awning was a homeless woman, a single orange striped blanket over her, damp. Her hair seemed covered in dirt, she shivered, but made no attempt to voice her discomfort. I couldn’t quite make out her face, but maybe it was pity that brought me to pay attention to her in the first place.

Yeah, typical “boy meets girl” story, huh?

At last, she looked up and croaked. Despite facing me, her face seemed to droop low and she looked downtrodden.

“You got money?”

I jumped. Startled. Yeah, not too dignified, but I really just didn’t expect for her to notice me. Once I composed myself, I dug through my jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

“Here, it’s not much, but it’s what I got on me.”

“Thanks,” she replied and took it. No more than that. Of course, if that was the extent of the exchange, there wouldn’t really be anything to tell, now would there?

“Hey, I know it’s late, but there’s a cafe close by we can visit if you want a coffee or something. They’re not open forever, but it’ll keep you dry for a little while,” I offered.

She looked up again, scowled.

“I don’t trust strangers,” she stated.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger. I get that,” I chuckled. “I just figured I’d offer, but you can decline. If you’re worried about me being someone dangerous, you can punch me. I’m not really interested in being cruel or violent or anything like that.”

She squinted. I would later find out that was less because of how ridiculous she may have thought me and more because she had poor eyesight.

“Are you that desperate that you would ask a homeless person out on a date?” Her biting remark might have gotten under the skin of just about anyone else, but I’ve probably heard much worse from some of my patients. Instead, I laughed.

“You don’t have to think of it as a date. I don’t. I’m not really the dating type, anyway. It’s just a spur of the moment thing.”

She shifted eyes, turned her head from left to right, then looked back up on me.

“I can’t believe I’m going to agree to this…but sure,” she heaved out the words.

“Cool,” I stuck my thumb out, then continued, “it’s just a couple of blocks away. I really like the place, since I sometimes don’t get off work until real late and it’s open past midnight.”

“I don’t care...when it’s open...but I could use something warm...to drink,” she sounded lightheaded, in a daze.

Once we made our way through the door of the dim lit cafe with neon lighting, she wiped her shoes on the mat.

Oh. What good manners, I thought. As someone who often forgot to wipe their shoes when entering places, it was a nice reminder to see someone else do so. At least I remembered to put my umbrella down, but that kinda went without saying.

As soon as I approached the counter, I turned to her, still drenched.

“Don’t worry about the cost. Order whatever you like,” I assured her. After I said those words, she looked up, squinted, then closed her eyes.

“I would like a lavender mocha latte, but no dairy. Almond milk if you have it. Coconut would be even better. Give four extra shots of espresso, and if you have dark chocolate syrup, use that.”

Damn. It was like she had the whole thing recited and ready to go. All right.

“I’ll just take a black coffee,” I shrugged. I didn’t need all the sugar or any of that extra stuff.

“Oh. I should have went with that too,” she looked down, possibly embarrassed at her order.

I laughed.

“Don’t worry, I said you could order whatever. My treat.”

She made her way to the table nearest to the window, and took the seat closest to the window as well. As soon as she sat down, she lowered her head onto the table and her arms outstretched to cover her head. Behind her, raindrops slid down the window. It wasn’t much an interesting sight, but I wasn’t a very observant person, so I felt I ought to have taken note of something.

“Just so you know, you should probably forget about me after this,” she uttered and despite her words being muffled, I could still make her words out clear as a river.

“If you want,” I shrugged.

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t associate with me. There’s people after me. I’d rather not get anyone involved.”

I pondered if there was any validity to that. Maybe she ran from an ex, or there was some trafficking ring. That last bit was a little dark. As a middle ground, I thought that maybe she had run off from home as a kid (surprisingly, that part was sort of true, in a sense).

“You probably think I’m crazy. Paranoid, even. I get it. Some homeless woman tells you there’s people after her. You don’t have to believe me. Just so you know, I’m homeless by choice. It’s easier this way. You don’t have to believe that, either.”

“Well, if you’re on the run, maybe it’s not by choice?” I suggested.

She looked up, her face still semi-buried in her arms. Still, I could make out eyes through her bangs. Grayish-purple bags under her eyes, but eyes nonetheless.

“Yeah. You’re probably right. It’s been so long, it’s hard to tell anymore. My head won’t cooperate,” she seemed to agree with my assessment, and as if to confirm as much, she lifted her head up and rubbed her forehead with her palm. With one eye visible, she glared at me.

“Just so you know, even if you considered this a date, I wouldn’t be interested. I’m…” she looked around, then stated, “men don’t interest me.”

I chuckled.

“It’s okay. My sister’s a lesbian. You don’t really have to beat around the bush about it.”

Her eyes widened, then squinted again.

“I don’t know why you would tell me that. I’m not interested. My main focus is my survival, it’s just…” She began to glance to her side and down at the floor. “I’ve been running and hiding so long, I’m growing tired. Sooner or later, I might just give up. It’s a terrible thought, but I don’t think I can go on.”

My concern began to grow, even if I didn’t know the scope of her problem.

“I don’t really know what it is you’re dealing with, but you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

“No. I refuse to endanger anyone else,” she seemed adamant about that.

Maybe she was justified, but in a selfish way, that also made me want to help more.

“You can refuse if you want, but the weather forecast says it’s going to be raining over the next few days. I’ve got a spare room in my apartment you can stay in. If nothing else, it’ll keep you dry.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” she looked away once more.

“You wouldn’t be. I’m the one that offered,” I shrugged, a favorite gesture of mine.

“Well...maybe my head is just messed up enough right now, but...fine. As long as I reserve the right to leave at any time.”

“Of course,” I assured her, and I even lifted a feeble smile. Once our coffee was brought over, mine a regular paper coffee cup, hers a ceramic cup filled to the top, we drank in silence. Between intervals of me sipping the bitter bean, I peeked over and noticed how she held onto her cup with a sort of elegance; one hand on the handle, the other grasping the base of the cup, and slow sips taken, not a single slurp to be heard. It was probably a little weird of me to pick up on something like that, I admit.

“I’m Trent, by the way,” I told her out of courtesy. Depending on how long she’d stay, I felt it wise to tell her my name.

“Et...err...Vesuvius. You can call me Vesuvius. Or Ves. I don’t care which,” her eyes shifted and she stammered out the words.

After we finished our coffee, we headed out, umbrella up and ready to go. There wasn’t a long walk ahead of us, and she was silent the whole way through. Not that I tried to make small talk anyway, since the rain was kind of gloomy weather for conversation. She walked with a slump, something I should have warned her to be cautious about, lest she get a hunchback. Maybe she did so because she felt she was too tall to fit under the umbrella, or maybe she had been under such duress for so long that standing up straight no longer registered to her.

Before long, we made our way inside and I showed her to where the spare room was. She didn’t speak a word, not so much as a nod, just went inside. Before I closed the door, I told her, “if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll be down the hall and to your left.”

Still, no acknowledgment. That was fine. Just as long as she heard me. For whatever reason, it didn’t register until after I closed the door that I didn’t have anything like an air mattress or a futon for her to sleep on. That room was bare, empty. Not a single item to be found.

Despite that, I was too tired to do anything rational like look for some spare blankets or pillows, and decided it was high time for me to get some rest. At the very least, I turned the heater on and let it run. It wasn’t something I liked to do, and I didn’t think Juniper would be all that comfortable with it on, but screw it, I was the one who paid the bills.

“Well, time for me to get some shut eye,” I announced, thinking there was no one around who could hear me. However, I soon noticed from the corner of my eye a foam basketball being tossed up into the air.

“Who’s the babe?” Juniper, asked in a rather dull voice. I soon turned and saw her laying on the couch, flat on her back.

“Don’t be disrespectful,” I scolded. “I found her on the street. She’s just going to stay over for a few nights.”

“So now you’re picking up homeless chicks?”

Really, maybe she was just moody ‘cause she was tired, or maybe she just felt like giving me a hard time that night in particular.

“I just felt like doing a good deed, there’s nothing behind it,” I corrected her. Again.

“That’s rather nice of you. Just make sure not to overexert yourself. Your health is important too,” she reminded.

“Thanks.”

I thought I could just go to bed, but then a smile which signified mischief spread across her face.

“So, tell me about the babe,” she wouldn’t drop it so soon.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned.

“C’mon, the babe.”

“No,” I folded my arms on my hips. If she could nudge me from where she was at, she would have.

“You remind me of the babe,” her cheery voice returned, coupled with a sing-song tone.

“What babe?” I finally gave in.

“The babe with the power.”

“What power?”

“Power of voodoo!”

“Who do?”

“You do!”

“Do what?”

“Remind me of the babe! Ha ha ha!” she kicked around the couch and laughed. There were certain nights where I could just tell when she watched Labyrinth that day.

“Okay, okay, don’t stay up too late,” I reminded her. “You know where your room is.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Night.”

Ah, Labyrinth. Classic. David Bowie and his tights. Things didn’t get much better than that.

Somehow I managed to tell him all of that with time to spare.

“You have a big heart, Trent,” he told me, which kinda made me want to sulk.

“Yeah...I do try to have a good diet, though,” I pouted.

“No, no, I mean metaphorically,” he patted the air as he spoke, a sure sign of sincerity.

“You mean…?” I stared into his earthen rosemary colored eyes.

“Yes. You are very kind.”

“Oh, phew. For a second there I was worried you meant my weight.”

“No, no. Dear. You are adorable. When I first saw you that fateful day, I said to myself, ‘this is an adorable teddy bear’. I would never have anything unkind to say to a teddy bear.”

“Well, thank you. Does that mean I’m a cuddly looking teddy bear?” I let slip my curiosity.

“I’d have to find that one out for myself. Hey, your story about your sister’s wife got me thinking. How would you like to go out for coffee after work?”

Gee, the possibility never even occurred to me, but it was so simple. Of course.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. I’m pretty sure the place is still open.”

“And,” he leaned in a little closer. “May I consider it a date?”

I laughed a little at that.

“If you’d like to.”

“And,” a little closer still. “Would you consider it one?”

That time, my heart went “boing boing” against my chest. I didn’t know the answer to that one. It was too much being put on the spot, I was used to the attention being on other people.

“Um...not no, but maybe yes...I’m not sure…” Came my disgraceful blabbering until I managed to catch myself and re-compose. “Er...I’m not used to thinking about things for myself...but...sure. You’re a pretty cool guy. Let’s consider it a coffee date.”

So we did. Just a few nights later, after work we walked into the parking lot. He had a motorcycle, with enough of a seat for me to fit in the back. It wasn’t awkward in the slightest and in fact, it played out much the same as many of our conversations at lunch before. It all felt natural between us, like trees. He ordered an oregano tea latte and I had my usual black coffee.

As if by miracle, the sun had yet to set and there wasn’t the slightest hint of rain. We sat across from each other and immersed ourselves in the ambiance of the hums and smooth glitchtunes playing on the coffee shop’s speakers.

“So, if I were to come over to your place tonight, would I see your sister and her wife?” He posed the hypothetical question.

“Nah, they both moved out almost a year ago. They’ve got their own apartment somewhere else in the city, though they’re also saving up to move elsewhere again.”

“So soon?” He tilted his head.

“Well, it’s a dream of Ves’ to live in a field of flowers, open nature, all that stuff. Psychedelic drugs, flowers in hair, tie-dye, I could go on. Juniper’s already found a place a couple of states out, and she found an old beat up pick up truck in a ditch and decided to repair it just for fun. So now all they gotta do is assemble the wood, get some electric lining, plumbing, all that stuff. Which...I don’t have a lot of faith in my sister, she’s no architect or electrician, but she’s the type who gets insistent about doing everything herself, so it’s not like I could talk her out of it.”

“That’s great, though! They’re pursuing their passion. Isn’t that beautiful?”

I shrugged.

“I dunno if ‘beautiful’ is the word I’d use, but yeah. I suppose I’m happy for them.”

“What about you? Do you have any goals?” His eyes fluttered, almost like he wanted to lull me to sleep.

“Sorta, but it’s kinda dumb? I just don’t like the whole ‘charged ten thousand dollars as soon as you walk in and good luck getting your overpriced insurance that you can barely afford, if afford at all, to cover anything’ so I was thinking how it would be cool if I could run my own clinic. I don’t know, maybe it could be funded through donations, but in no way would people have to pay. Like, I doubt I’d be able to do the big stuff like surgeries or transplants, but it’s still something, right? Thing is, that’s kinda impossible, don’cha think?”

Rather than some kind of agreement, he reacted in a rather ferocious manner: he stood up, leaned over, and slammed his hands on the table.

“Trent,” while his voice grew in intensity, it certainly didn’t sound angry. More...motivating. “You must never be afraid of your passion.”

“Uh...okay…” I scratched my cheek. “But what about you? What are you passionate about?”

He sat back down.

“You. Of course,” he answered, so simple, so straightforward in his delivery.

“So, like, does that mean you’d want to play D&D with me sometime?”

He laughed.

“I’d love to.”

“Really? Are you sure? What if you don’t like it? I mean, I don’t even know what your hobbies are.”

“If I end up not liking it, then at least I’ll have found that out for myself. But all of your hobbies, everything that interest you, I want to immerse myself in. Because all of you...is my hobby.”

“Bro…” I leaned forward. “That’s kind of...uh...cool!”

“Oh, and I also like to ride around on my motorcycle. I like watching the sunsets, going hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking, and making ceramic cups.”

Hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking...he sure looked fit. Not to mention, those things sounded like fun, even if possibly dangerous.

“Do you think I could do those things with you?” I asked, hesitant, but I figured if he was wanting to do the things I liked, I may as well ask him in return.

“Of course. You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Then in that case, can I kiss you?” I joked, though it seemed to come out of nowhere. However much I meant it, it was out in the open now.

“Of course. Would you like to do it here, or at your apartment?”

“Err...at my apartment?”

To be honest, I’ve never kissed anyone before. Or been kissed by anyone before. That thought never even crossed my mind and I pretty much figured I’d be fine not having such a thought and continuing on with my life, but dominoes were falling or something like that.

“Let’s go, then,” he stood up and motioned for me to head toward the door. In a hurry, I chugged down my coffee.

I should probably brush my teeth first. Coffee breath probably isn’t a good taste. Then again, would he want to brush his teeth. Should we just use the same toothbrush? Or maybe he packed one with him.

When we shoved our way through the door of my apartment, those questions were erased from my mind.

“I’ve actually never kissed anyone before...I know, in my thirties and…” he put his finger on my lips and made a “shh” sound.

“Relax. I’ll take the lead,” he lowered his hand, then leaned down and spread his lips against mine. As he released, I wished that he hadn’t. But then the thought of my breath returned to the front of my mind.

“Sorry, uh, hope my breath doesn’t bother you.”

“Does it bother you?” He asked.

“Well…it’s probably good to take care of your teeth. I’m not a dentist, but I do think good health is important in all aspects of one’s health and --”

He pulled out a box of mint chews.

“Here,” he opened the box. I took a couple and popped them into my mouth. On instinct, I bit down on them and chewed, despite knowing that I wouldn’t be prepared for the icy hellfire that was the minty taste. After a couple of seconds of huffing, I looked back at him.

“Okay, I’m good now.”

“There is one more interest I have now,” he decided to pick back up from our conversation at the coffee shop for some final choice words.

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“Supporting you and your dreams.”

Then we kissed again.

So flashforward a year or so and through some sort of miracle, such a dream was realized: we converted the apartment into a clinic and moved upstairs to the apartment directly above. Both of us quit our jobs at the hospital so we could focus on the clinic. Really, I couldn’t have done it without him. Or, maybe I could have, but I’d like to think he gave me that sort of push, y’know? That little “oomf.”

There were many improvements that could have been made, and might be made as time went on, but I liked seeing the genuine attempt to help, and the look on people’s faces when they knew they wouldn’t have to worry about cost...worth it. What’s more, people donated freely, and often. We met several people around the community and even convinced some to play D&D with us. I think the biggest surprise was how much of a hit the game was with the elderly.

Oh, and also, Fern and I became boyfriends. Not really sure how that happened, but it did and I’m cool with it.

On one particular slow day, an interesting thing happened: see, it had been a while since any strange people walked through my door. After a streak of Ves, Blanc, and that weird stalker lady my sister hugged, I figured I’d see the last of any weirdness. In fact, I never even thought to tell Fern about any of the weird visitors (besides Ves, of course). But then as I was doing a solo hunt against deviljo in Monster Hunter on my PC in my office, Fern ran into my office.

“Hey Trent, dear, there’s someone outside the front door saying she’s your cousin,” he informed me. I looked up, a little perplexed.

“I have relatives?” I asked, even though it might have seemed like a pretty dumb thing to say.

Never mind the dumbness, I stopped what I was doing and rushed toward the door only to find a short lady with blonde hair who looked to be in her 20s.

“Hello, can I help you?” I asked her.

“It’s me, your cousin. Demetria?” She folded her arms and scowled.

It took a few seconds to click, and then I remembered.

“Ohhh. You were at my sister’s wedding. I think. Probably.”

“Yeah, I probably most definitely was,” she turned her head and spat on the ground.

Fern stood beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Who might this be?” He asked.

“Fern,” I gestured to Demetria. “This is apparently my cousin, Demetria. Demetria, this is Fern, my receptionist-slash-boyfriend.”

“You make me sick,” Demetria growled in response.

“What?” I blinked, and I was quite surprised to hear such a thing. “Are you homophobic?”

“No, I’m not homophobic, I just can’t believe you’re dating someone named after a tree! You were supposed to be the chosen one! You could have broken the cycle!”

That was an odd thing to focus on, but good to know it wasn’t too serious.

“It’s short for Fernando, actually, and technically, Ferns aren’t trees,” Fern explained to her.

“All right, buster,” she pointed up. “But you’re on thin-fucking-ice!”

Then she turned to me.

“Also, grats on being gay, I guess. That’s kinda cool,” she eased up her abrasive tone.

“Well, I might be bi. I don’t know. I haven’t been interested in women before, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be interested in any women. I think the real question we need to ask is, is it gay to be in a relationship with another man?” I suggested. Demetria just looked at Fern, who then looked at me.

“Yeah,” they both said at the same time.

“Well, in any case, what can I do for you, Demetria?” I shifted focus.

“Right. I need you to tell me where Juniper lives.”

“What for?”

“So I can go live with them. Why else?”

That was an odd thing to want to do, and I didn’t even think Juniper and Ves would agree to such a...oh, who was I kidding? Juniper was that kind of person.

“Right. Uh...I guess there’s no harm. I’ll write down their address for you. You got a way to get there?”

She shook her head.

“I make it up as I go. I got here just fine, didn’t I?”

Yeah, that was a good point.

I pulled out my notepad from my shirt pocket as well as a pen and scribbled down the address. After I handed it to her, she squinted and scowled.

“Shit. How am I supposed to read this chicken scratch?”

Right. Doctor.

“Here, I’ll just spell it out for you, so you can just type it in the notepad app on your phone or whatever you have.”

“Oh, great. More work for me to do,” she grimaced, but pulled out her phone and pressed the power button.

“Let’s see...a few missed calls from my mom. Typical. Also, a text from Ray. ‘If you ever consider coming back here, don’t. I don’t want to see you again.’ Gee, wasn’t planning on going back there, but good to see I’m not wanted. Typical...oh, here we go. Notepad.”

I didn’t really know what that bit was about, but I wasn’t about to pry. Wasn’t my business. As soon as I told her the address, she turned her phone back off and put it back in her pocket.

How are you going to know where to find the place if you don’t even look at the address?

Oh well. Juniper and Ves’ problem now.

“See ya,” she waved, then ran off. Fern and I waved too, then Fern turned to me.

“Well, she was interesting,” he remarked.

I shrugged.

“Yeah. It tends to go that way. I never really told you, but besides Ves, there’s been some strange people who showed up here a couple of times. First there was Blanc, this amnesiac who was missing an arm. Juniper decided to make a prosthetic limb for them after learning about Fullmetal Alchemist and we kinda let them live here until they just disappeared one day. Then there was this one stalker Juniper had who wanted her and I to leave town but didn’t really explain why and then Juniper hugged her and she freaked out. Not a clue what that was about, but we never saw her again, so I guess we never needed to leave town.”

“Wow, your sister had a stalker?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, it was horrible, I guess. She seemed rather nonchalant about it, but I could tell it affected her in some ways. She was paranoid for a bit until she met this stalker in person, and then said stalker turned out to be harmless.”

“Still, I would’ve been scared too.”

“Oh yeah, and by the way, Ves is a time traveler. Yeah, you probably think I’m nuts now, but she was originally from the ‘60s and my sister and I found this time travel device that looked like a Nintendo 64 when we moved in. It apparently belonged to Ves’ father. So that time at the coffee shop when she was homeless? Yeah, apparently I met her before that actually and neither of us realized that. Of course, she was a teenager back then and only showed up to take the time travel device back but anyway…”

I realized I started rambling and the more I went on, the more ridiculous things probably seemed.

“...Anyway, you don’t have to believe me, but that was all to say that everyone else who’s ever been in this apartment has been more interesting than me. Including you. Compared to them, I’m kinda just...there.”

He shook his head and placed a firm grasp on my shoulders. He looked me in the eyes.

“No, you are very interesting. How could you not be when you’ve met all of these interesting people? Take it from me: I wouldn’t be interested in you if I didn’t find you interesting.”

“Gee,” I looked away, embarrassed. “Thanks. But also, there’s one more thing: my family has this weird tradition of naming people after trees. Yeah, I’m Trent, but I was named after Treant, this tree monster in D&D. My mom wanted to name me Ent, but apparently couldn’t because the Tolkien estate has the rights to that name.”

“See? Another interesting thing about you!”

“Ha. I’m glad I met you. My mom wasn’t exactly a nice lady, but it was cool that she was into D&D. That’s probably where I got it from. Maybe it’s genetic. Still, neither mine nor my sister’s personalities are like her, although Juniper’s probably closer, though way nicer. It’s hard to explain, but you’d just have to trust me.”

“Every time you tell me something new about yourself, I’m fascinated more and more,” he smiled wide.

We kissed once more before getting back to work. Our day hadn’t yet come to an end.

#writing #remoras full #romance #gay #trent #doctor #clinic #stories #lgbt #dnd