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my-shipper-heart-beats · 3 years

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Would You Like To Have Dinner?

Why, hello there, strangers! I’m sorry this took so long. Life happened and this definitely fell by the wayside. The good news is, I’m trying this new thing called self-care, and my therapist tells me completing unfinished work can help provide a sense of closure and accomplishment. If you’re still following this mess, thanks for sticking by it. I’m already working on the next chapter, and I promise it won’t take me another four years to publish it.

ao3: here and fanfiction: here

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4.1 part 4.2 part 5

~~~~~

“Rosie tells me you had a lovely time at the museum while we were gone,” Mary said, smiling widely. She had had her daughter spill all the details of Sherlock’s date with Molly. Now, she was going to enjoy tormenting her husband’s best friend.

“Rosie is a misguided four year old child,” Sherlock answered. “The evening passed without incident, and everything was fine. But I would not categorize it as ‘lovely’.”

The detective busied himself reading the morning paper. It took a few moments for him to realize the reason nothing made sense was because the words were all upside down. He crumpled the paper and threw it to the side with a frustrated huff. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way. He didn’t even know what he was feeling. He was, of course, very much against the idea of getting saddled with a wife and family. He was in no way, shape, or form cut out for the life a family man. However, there was just something about Molly. She was smart. She didn’t let him get away with anything. She put him to task when he stepped out of line.

“Oh yes, I can clearly see how completely unaffected you are,” Mary stated with a chuckle. She had never seen her friend as uncertain as he was now.

“Perhaps, I have come to realize that, perhaps, there is more to Molly than I had originally assessed.” As much as it pained him to admit it, he was wrong about the pathologist. He had just written her off as a competent lab assistant. Clearly, there was much more to her than met the eye.

“Oh, the big, bad detective has feelings then?” the petite blonde said with a quirk of her eyebrow.

“Nobody said anything about feelings. I just think that I may have misjudged her,” Sherlock shot back defensively. He folded his arms like a petulant child as he threw himself onto his favored chair.

“Well, maybe you should plan an actual, nice date for your next meeting,” Mary replied, rolling her eyes. She had had just about enough of this supposedly grown man having trouble dealing with being an actual adult.

“It is not a date! But you are right. Maybe I should plan a less malicious day, just to show her that I respect her on a professional level.”

~~~~~

Something seemed off about Sherlock. Molly wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she did know she didn’t like it. He had walked into the lab without his usual theatrics. He hadn’t told her to run any tests. He hadn’t demanded a cup of coffee. In fact, he had barely spoken a word to her. Now, he was sitting quietly, fiddling with a microscope.

Finally, the pathologist couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Is there anything I can help you with, Sherlock? What are you working on?”

The detective looked up from his work abruptly. “No. None for me thank you.”

“I was just asking if you wanted any help on whatever it is you’re working on,” Molly replied, a bit confused.

“Oh. I thought you asked if I wanted anything to eat,” Sherlock said, looking back down at the microscope. “Did you want anything to eat?” he added nonchalantly.

“No, thank you. I’m fine,” the pathologist responded. She turned back to the lab bench and resumed her work mixing her reagents.

“If you did want something to eat, what would you want?” Sherlock refused to look up from the microscope but shot a quick glance towards Molly to gauge her reaction.

“Well, I’m not particularly hungry at the moment, but I was planning on picking up some Greek on my way back home,” she replied absentmindedly as she continued her work.

“Excellent!” Sherlock quickly rose from his chair and made his way to the door. “I’ll meet you at the Greek taverna down the street at 7. We may as well get our monthly outing out of the way.”

He left the lab without so much as a backwards glance. Molly stared, confused, at the door as it swung closed. She hadn’t ever seen Sherlock act this way before. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was nervous. What in the world had gotten into him? Finally, her curiosity got the best of her, and the pathologist wandered over to where the detective had been working previously. She looked into the microscope and found herself even more confused than before. There hadn’t even been a slide on the microscope.

~~~~~

Molly sat uneasily at the table. Sherlock was fifteen minutes late. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. It would just be a dinner, that’s all. She and Sherlock had gone on other, far more exciting, outings. Even so, the petite brunette could not shake the fluttering feeling she felt in her stomach. As the pathologist tried to busy herself by tracing her finger along the blue lines on the tablecloth, the waiter approached her for the third time that night.

“Would you like to place your order yet? Or perhaps just another glass of wine?” The look on his face was one of patronizing sympathy.

“I think I’ll wait just a little longer,” Molly replied with a tight smile. She’d give him just 5 more minutes.

~~~~~

Sherlock ducked into an alley and kept running. The evening was not going as he planned. This case was supposed to be simple, barely a three. Yet, here he was, running around the streets of London, trying to lose the absolute behemoth of a man who had broken into that warehouse. Lestrade had said it was tactile company, that nothing of value had been taken. What Lestrade didn’t know was that the company had actually been a front for an arms dealer, an arms dealer that did not appreciate Sherlock poking around his business.

The detective turned another corner. Looking over his shoulder, he was satisfied that he had lost his pursuer. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was just after 7. If he hurried, he would be able to make it to his date with Molly without being too late. As he moved to quicken is pace, a large figure blocked his way. Sherlock looked up to see a very angry looking arms dealer scowling at him. It may take him a little longer to get to the restaurant than he anticipated.

~~~~~~

It was 8. Molly gathered her things, placed a few bills on the table, and left the restaurant. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she angrily blinked them back. Why was she even feeling this way? It’s not like it was a real date. It’s not like Sherlock had any sort of obligation to her. Something more important had probably come up, that’s all. Now, she would go home to Toby, heat up some leftovers, and watch Bakeoff. A lovely way to spend the evening. As Molly started walking down the sidewalk, a hunched figure stepped into her path.

“Leaving already?”

Molly gasped. It was Sherlock, and he was in awful shape. His clothes were disheveled. His lip was bleeding. He had a large gash on his forehead. His eye was swollen. He was hunched over as though trying to alleviate some pain in his abdomen. He had been through something terrible.

“Oh, Sherlock! What happened?” she managed to ask.

“Had a run in with a rather unsavory character. Nothing to worry about. I’m sorry I’m late,” the detective responded, trying to mask the pain in his voice. “Let’s head back in there and have dinner.”

“Are you mad? Look at you!” Molly shouted, gesturing wildly at the man before her. “We need to get you to the hospital!”

“Nonsense! I’m perfectly fine. No need for hospitals,” Sherlock protested.

“At least let me patch you up. Your flat isn’t too far from here.” Molly looped one of his arms around her awkwardly, and the two hobbled slowly the 221B Baker St.

~~~~~

Sherlock winced as Molly dabbed at the cut on his forehead. He may have bested the juggernaut, but he hadn’t escaped unscathed. The good news was, there were no broken bones or internal bleeding. However, it hurt to breathe and there were several bruises already forming all over his body. He really needed to brush up on his hand-to-hand combat.

“He really did a number on you,” Molly whispered as she leaned forward to check for any more wounds on his person.

“Why do you assume it was a he?” the detective retorted. “Women can also be very skilled fighters.”

Molly rolled her eyes at that. “Fine. They really did a number on you.” She gave him one more once over before pulling away. “There. You’re all set.”

“Thank you for your help,” he murmured, watching her pack away the first aid kit. For a brief moment, he wanted to reach out and take her hand, but he thought better of it. “I’m sorry I ruined the evening.”

“It’s nothing important, just dinner. I’m just glad you’re alive,” the pathologist replied, trying hard not to let her voice betray how disappointed she had been. She moved to the kitchen. “I can see if I can throw something together for us.”

Sherlock wasn’t sure why he was stung by her words, why her doubting her importance hurt him so. He looked over at her as she rummaged through his kitchen looking for something edible. She pulled a bag of toes out of the freezer, shook her head, and returned them to their allotted place. She muttered to herself, and he could have sworn he heard her say something about him not know the proper way to store toes. Eventually, she returned to where she had left him, looking defeated and holding a single carrot.

“This is the one single item in there that is safe to eat,” she announced, slightly amused. “I’m off to Tesco to find us some sustenance.”

~~~~~

The two of them sat at his kitchen table conversing over the delicious pad thai Molly had made. She seemed so relaxed and at ease talking about the experiments she had been running and the interesting bodies she had worked on. There was something about her right now. It reminded Sherlock of the afternoon they had spent at the apiary. She was one of the few people who didn’t bore him when they spoke. She was brilliant and challenged him. He never tired of her and her abundance of knowledge. Sherlock realized at that moment that he would not be content to go back to the way things were before, the way things would soon be after the mandatory six months were over. The detective found himself wishing that they had more time.

#sherlolly #sherlock #sherlock holmes #molly hopper #fanfic #mine

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bitterlikesweets · 3 years

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Love Bites Ch 19

This is the nineteenth chapter of a modern/vampire AU ereri fanfic. You can also read it on Ao3. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | Special | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

It would be a stretch to say that Eren and his older brother ever got along well. Zeke hated him. He had since the day they met.

"Met." Because Eren didn't know Zeke existed until he was ten years old.

When Eren was a little kid, he didn't know anything. His parents were the epitome of being in love. Every time they were together, his father would shower his mother in kind words and affection. He always made her smile. He would even bring her gifts every time he came back from his monthly family reunions.

His dad never got Eren anything, but that was okay. As long as he got stuff for Eren’s mom. As long as his parents loved each other, Eren didn’t mind. That was enough. Because it made his mom smile. And Eren’s mom loved Eren no matter what. Eren loved her no matter what, too.

She loved Eren more than usual during his dad’s family reunions.

When Eren asked his father why he never brought Eren and his mother along, Grisha Jaeger just said it wasn't time yet.

They never really explained to Eren how it all happened. Why things with Grisha's first family didn't work out. Zeke just showed up one day, Grisha's hand on his shoulder as they stood in the doorway.

"Eren, this is your older brother. His mom's very busy, so he'll be staying with us over the weekend."

It took Eren awhile to wrap his head around it. How was it possible for Zeke to be Eren's brother but have a different mom? Why was Zeke not living with them?

Why did they look so different?

Eren's mom was very patient. She explained about falling in love. About falling out of it. And how sometimes people are left behind when that happens. She told Eren he could still believe in love. That sometimes it ends, but a new one could start in its place.

"I might not be his first love," his mother said, "but I am his favorite."

His favorite? Eren believed that for a little bit. But he always wondered why his dad kept going back to visit his first love if that was really the case. It wasn't to visit Zeke. Sometimes their dad would still go to see Zeke's mom, even if Zeke was staying with them, babysitting Eren.

"If it wasn't for you," Zeke always used to say, "he would still be with us. He would be my dad, not yours."

Why? Why was it Eren's fault?

When did his parents start arguing in the middle of the night?

Zeke started getting nicer to Eren eventually. When Eren was thirteen and Zeke was sixteen, Zeke started to be almost kind. Saying that it wasn't Eren's fault after all. They just needed time, and everything would work itself out.

Turns out, everything "working out" meant Grisha going back to his first love. Which meant Carla Jaeger was not his favorite, after all.

It made more sense to Eren that love just didn't exist. Romantic love was stupid and fake and wasn't real.

His mom finally agreed with him when Grisha moved out.

When Eren was fifteen, he saw his brother for the last time. He dropped Eren off at his house after school and told Eren he wasn't going to come back anymore. That Zeke no longer had to pretend they were really family.

Eren and his mother got the news a few months later. Somebody broke into the Jaeger household—the other Jaeger household—and now everyone in that other family was dead. The police told them it was a burglary.

That's what they said about Eren's mom too, in the official reports. A burglary; a mother dead, and a son injured, but otherwise fine.

Eren should've realized it then. A burglary with nothing stolen. A report he'd already heard once before. He should've recognized the similarities.

But he didn't connect the dots because things were different then, with his dad. When it happened to Eren and his mother, it wrecked him. It still wrecks him now. It didn't feel real at all. And now he misses her so, so much.

When Eren was fifteen, finding out that his father and older brother were gone for good, he doesn't remember feeling wrecked or sad or missing them.

He doesn't remember feeling anything at all.

Seven years later, knowing who killed them, Eren feels…

Eren feels exactly the same.

Maybe he's been a little monstrous since way back then.

~ ~ ~

Eren wakes up to moonlight, rain, and the smell of smoke. He blinks up at the unfamiliar gray ceiling, unconsciously fiddling with the fleece blanket loosely draped over his body. He's too big for it; it's pulled up to his chest and his ankles stick out the bottom. It's strange though; he remembers dropping onto the couch with nothing but his sweater as a makeshift blanket. The curtains too. He swears that he closed those last night, and hey—Eren can hear rain, so why is everything so dry outside?

Eren sits up slowly, his eyes scanning the room with narrowed eyes. There are a few more things different from how Eren remembers them. The wooden knives and stakes he remembers putting in front of Levi’s small closet are nowhere to be seen, and there’s a light on in the kitchen. The rain sounds seem to be coming from there too.

When Eren gets up to investigate, he finds Levi sitting at the kitchen counter, a mug in his hands as he stares blankly down at his steaming drink. There’s a candle in front of him, and a little speaker by the wall at the edge of the counter.

Eren knocks on the wall, and Levi looks up, his gray eyes brighter than before, a bit more alert.

“Good night,” Eren says with a nod.

The corners of Levi’s quirk up for a moment.

“Good night,” Levi says, moving his mug up to his lips.

“It looks like I turned you nocturnal,” Eren says, pulling up one of the tall chairs beside Levi’s.

The smell of smoke seems to be coming from the gray candle in front of Levi—its label says “Fireside”—and when a single tap of Levi’s finger against the speaker causes the rain to stop, all of Eren’s questions are answered.

...All of his more trivial questions, anyway.

“I should make a midnight shift at the Kitchen just for you as revenge,” Levi says.

“Hmm…” Eren drops his chin into his hand, stroking an imaginary beard with his fingers. “Doesn’t sound like too bad of a deal, honestly. How much do you pay?”

Levi scoffs instead of answering, and Eren smiles, moving his chair closer so that he can bump shoulders with Levi. Levi leans against him in response.

“Thanks,” Levi says quietly. “For yesterday.”

Eren’s smile softens, and he presses his face into Levi’s shoulder.

“Anytime.”

“I…” Levi clears his throat. “I was pretty out of it. If I had known that you—”

Levi clears his throat again.

“You didn’t have to sleep on the couch,” Levi says, his ears getting a pink tint. “If I had known you were staying over, I’d have told you so.”

Eren’s face burns. He’s immensely grateful that his head is tucked against the fabric of Levi’s shirt and out of sight.

“O-oh. I, uh—Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind, f-for next time.”

“Yeah,” Levi mumbles. He’s leaning more heavily onto Eren, though his head is turned away. “Good.”

And then things are quiet for a moment. Eren absentmindedly shifts his face from Levi’s shoulder to Levi’s neck, a deep sort of relaxation pooling in his chest and shoulders when he does. Something about it sets him at ease, even despite the slight throb in his fangs that comes from his close proximity to Levi’s veins.

Though his bite scars do start to itch a bit. Again.

“Eren,” Levi says.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been… thinking about some of things you said yesterday.”

An image of his blond brother’s face flashes through Eren’s mind, and he stiffens. One of Levi’s hands immediately finds its way to Eren’s back, resting hesitantly there.

“We don’t have to talk about it though,” Levi says. “If you’re burnt out.”

“No,” Eren says quickly, raising his head out of the crook of Levi’s neck and pulling away slightly. “No, that’s, uh… We can talk about it.”

Should Eren tell him? He really doesn’t want to tell him. It’s probably hard enough on Levi with that family as strangers with no other connection to him. If he finds out that that man was Eren’s dad—that the Feral King is Eren’s brother—

“Alright,” Levi says, though he sends a confused frown Eren’s way. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

“I will.”

It’s not like it changes much for Eren either way anyway. They’ve been dead for seven years already—he thought they all were anyway—and he was never angry at that anonymous killer. His mom was devastated, and that made him sad, but…

Shit, it’s fucked up that he didn’t care, isn’t it? He was fifteen, and on TV, people were always telling their parents to go die, so, at the time, he thought it was just one of those “hormonal teenager things” that every adult in his life was always going on about. It wasn’t like he was relieved or happy when they died! He was just… indifferent.

...Maybe he should’ve taken his mom’s offer when she told him she’d take him to see a therapist if he needed one.

“That thing you said,” Levi says, though Eren’s only half-listening, “about people changing. About how not everyone does. I think that… helped a lot. For a while, I didn’t think I…”

Eren tries to redirect his brain. It’s far too late to be over analyzing his teenage brain. He thought his dad and his brother were dicks, and he never knew Zeke’s mom, so he didn’t give a fuck when they died. Is that awful? Probably. But that’s not the thing Eren’s worried about right now.

Should he tell Levi? Now that he’s thinking about it, it might be worse to keep it from Levi. If they go and try to kill those vampires who turned Eren, they’ll probably run into Zeke. Zeke will probably recognize Eren, and springing that whole “yeah, this asshole is my brother” thing onto Levi in the middle of a life or death situation is a terrible fucking idea. So, Eren definitely has to tell him. Should he tell him right now? How is he even going to explain—

“...Eren.”

Eren blinks, green eyes wide as he looks over at Levi. Levi just sighs, setting his mug down on the counter.

“I told you we didn’t need to talk about it.”

“No, no,” Eren says quickly. “That’s my bad. I don’t mind talking about it. I just… Have a lot in my head right now.”

Levi’s expression softens a little, and he reaches up to rest his hand against Eren’s cheek, the tips of his fingers settling in his long brown hair.

“We’re a fucking mess,” Levi says.

Eren can’t hold back a laugh, covering Levi’s hand with his own.

“Good thing you like cleaning,” Eren teases, and Levi rolls his eyes.

A pale thumb gently sweeps back and forth across Eren’s cheek, and Eren leans into the touch, his mind clearing a bit. His thoughts are no longer quite so fast, so frantic. It’s a bit easier not to focus on them with Levi there as a physical distraction, pulling Eren out of his own head a bit.

“What’s in there?” Levi said, shifting his hand to knock his knuckles against the side of Eren’s head. “I’ll help clean it up.”

Eren’s smile wavers, his gaze lowering.

“It might make your own head messy again.”

“That’s fine.”

Eren takes a deep breath.

“Furlan… Yesterday, when I called him, he told me the name of the Feral King.”

Levi nods.

“Zeke.”

“Zeke Jaeger,” Eren says.

Levi frowns slightly but nods again.

“I’ve… never told you my full name,” Eren says. “It’s Eren Jaeger.”

Levi’s eyes grow wide, his hand falling away from Eren’s face, but Eren hurries to grab hold of that pale hand before it can fully retreat.

“Eren—”

“Just wait,” Eren says. “Please. Let me explain.”

Levi scowls, but he keeps his lips pressed shut, even as his hand fidgets in Eren’s grasp.

“He’s my brother,” Eren says. “My older brother.”

“But I—” Levi clutches his head with his free hand. “Your… your mother—”

“No,” Eren says quickly, leaning towards Levi. “No, Levi. Not my mom. Zeke’s my half brother. We only share a dad. My mom was killed by ferals, just like I’ve always said.”

“You—” Levi shakes his head. “You talked with Furlan—You’ve known this since yesterday—why are you still here?”

“Levi, that doesn’t change anything for me—”

“Why the fuck not?” Levi snaps, yanking his hand out of Eren’s grip. “Eren, I—I killed your family!”

“Levi, no—”

Eren tries to reach for Levi’s hands again, but Levi abruptly moves them out of reach, his chest heaving.

“Don’t.”

Levi tries to wipe off his hands, his black eyebrows pulled downward into a deep scowl. Eren clenches his hands into fists, struggling to get air into his lungs.

Levi’s angry—not at him. Eren has to fix this. Levi’s hands—where are the paper towels? If he turns away, will Levi run? Does Levi even want his help? He wants to touch Levi. Levi doesn’t want that. He needs to finish explaining. He doesn’t want to go into detail about that time. Zeke, his dad—they’re haunting him like unruly fucking ghosts. He didn’t want to make Levi spiral again—He feels fucking sick, like his stomach is boiling—

“I don’t get you,” Levi snaps. “Why—knowing what I did—did to you—why are you still here?”

“Because I love you—”

“Why? Why are you siding with me over them?”

“Because they never fucking did!” Eren exclaims. “Always—it was always only my mom, just my mom—my dad never—Zeke never—”

Eren’s eyes are burning. His throat aches. He hates this. He doesn’t want to yell at Levi. He’s not yelling because of Levi. It’s because of his fucking dad, because of Zeke, because of those bastards that he was finally able to not think about after all these years—

“Why would I choose them over you?” Eren’s hands are clenched into tight fists. He feels a sharp pain in his palms and ignores it. “They never loved me. You do.”

Eren looks over at Levi, who’s staring at him, practically frozen.

“...Don’t you?”

Levi’s mouth opens and closes without words for a moment before he manages two words in a quiet, hoarse voice.

“I do.”

Eren’s eyes are still burning, aching. When his eyesight blurs, he wipes at his wet eyes. Pale hands are retreating from him when his sight is clear again—Levi reached out to him but is already pulling back. Frustration burns in the pit of Eren’s chest, and he’s reaching out before he can think better of it.

“For fuck’s—I don’t care, Levi, just get it on me,” Eren snaps, grasping Levi’s hands and covering them with his own. “It’s not like it’s going to fuck me up even more—I’m already—”

Eren goes stiff when he catches a glimpse of Levi’s face. It’s flat, masked, emotionless. Whatever anger that was in him cools immediately, and Eren quickly releases Levi’s hands, internally cursing himself for his insensitive, stupid mistake. Has he learned nothing from everything that happened yesterday? This is it. He’s fucked up absolutely everything—

“You…”

Levi’s eyes are on Eren’s hands.

“You don’t make any sense,” Levi says.

“I… I’m sorry.”

“You really… don’t care?”

Eren winces, his gaze dropping to his lap.

“That’s not what I—it was a bad choice of words—”

“It doesn’t change how you feel about me?” Levi asks, his voice a little louder, more insistent.

“N-no,” Eren says. “It doesn’t.”

“Even though it’s your brother.”

“My brother’s a murderer.”

“So am I,” Levi says, shifting his gaze from Eren’s hands to Eren’s eyes.

“Yeah, and I will be too, soon,” Eren says. “But I love you and my brother runs a murder cult that lead to the death of my mom.”

Levi stays silent, and Eren bites his lip.

“...Does it change things for you?” Eren asks. “The fact that I’m not bothered by it?”

“No,” Levi says immediately. “I just… don’t… It’s hard to believe. For me.”

“That I don’t care about my brother?”

“That you love me,” Levi says. “Because when I did that, I… I still don’t… Trust myself.”

Eren’s shoulders lower slightly, his expression softening.

“Do you want me to prove it?”

Levi frowns.

“...Can you?”

Eren holds out his hand. Levi just continues frowning at him.

“What do you see?” Eren asks. “When you have to clean your hands off like that?”

Levi’s mouth opens and shuts once before he answers.

“Blood.”

Eren's breath stutters a bit. He'd been wondering about that...

Slowly, he reaches out to grab Levi’s hand again, pulling it closer until Levi has to lean forward. Eren keeps pulling until Levi’s hand is flat against his chest, right over where his dead heart lies beneath the surface.

“Levi,” Eren says, smiling slightly in spite of everything, “I’m a vampire.”

He slowly raises Levi’s hand higher, pressing his lips against Levi’s knuckles.

“It’ll take more than a little blood to scare me away.”

“That…”

Levi lets out a deep sigh, getting out of his seat.

“That’s the cheesiest fucking shit you could’ve said.”

Eren’s face grows hot at the unexpected insult, and he drops Levi’s hand, unable to make anything more than incoherent noises of offense in his current headspace. By the time Levi has stepped closer, all Eren can manage is—

“Wha—I’m out here trying to prove my love to you, and that’s what you—”

Eren is interrupted by Levi dropping his entire body onto Eren, and Eren wraps his arms around the man’s back to stop them both from falling off of the chair.

“Levi?”

“Sorry,” Levi says. “It’s… habit.”

“You need to work on that,” Eren grumbles, burying his face into Levi’s neck again, the action immediately setting himself at ease. “One of these days I’m seriously going to get offended.”

Levi nods, still leaning heavily on Eren and showing no sign of trying to hold up his own weight.

“I hope…” Levi says quietly. “...Nothing’s able to scare you away.”

Eren smiles, holding Levi tighter.

“Nothing will,” Eren says. “I promise.”

Not the blood on Levi's hands, not Eren's dad, not the Feral King. Nothing's going to scare Eren away. He's certain of that now.

Levi sighs, and Eren’s fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Is anything going to scare you away?”

Levi scoffs, pulling back just enough to look Eren in the eye.

“You’re going to wish something could.”

Eren grins, leaning in to press his lips against Levi’s.

“No, Levi, I don’t think I will.”

#ereri riren #ereri #riren #ereri fanfic #riren fanfic #fanfiction #sorry this is late i forgot which day of the week it was haha

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spnfanficpond · 4 years

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June 2020 Angel Fish Awards

(New Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

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Nonimated by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters

I Thought You Were Going To Die (oneshot) by @fun-and-fandoms

My nominations for the month wouldn’t be complete without a little bit of angst. Though this one isn’t just that. If you’re easily triggered by mentions of depression and its symptoms, this one’s not for you. But it’s an important topic and I will always encourage any creator who uses their art to remind people it’s okay to talk about it. (Note from Kale, this was actually submitted in May but I missed it.)

More to Me (oneshot) by @becs-bunker

No spoilers, but I’m so glad this ended the way it did. So sweet <3

Help (oneshot) by @blushingjared

I came across this fic and was immediately intrigued. Then I started reading and I was captivated from the first sentence until the very last. The author did such a good job with setting the scene and painting the right picture.

Talking Bodies (oneshot) by @ne-gans

This AU-Sam is such a huge weakness of mine. That, in combination with this dangerously filthy masterpiece, is nothing short of perfection.

Nominated by @focusonspn

Into The Woods (series) by @amanda-teaches

So well written, interesting plot and great development. The chemistry between Y/N and Dean is also amazing, and I loved how this mini-series could be so easily part of the show. Totally worth reading.

Nominated by @thoughtslikeamindfield

Stranger Than FanFiction (series) by @cherry3point14

The premise is similar to the film Stranger Than Fiction – a story about a story being written about you – and it’s just as hilarious. Also, Cherry Pie is still one of the funniest writers in this corner of SPN fandom.

“You’re not supposed to move your head if there’s someone trying to murder you, probably…”

No, I wouldn’t think so, but lollllll

“You’re being insane, out loud.”

Omgggg

“It tried, oh, how the door tried to divert her attention from the unknown men who could be terrible, rule-breaking influences on her. However the door was only wood and she was a stubborn woman made of free will and limbs—a woman who refused to be deceived.”

“Your hand is on the doorknob before the mention of your limbs has finished rattling around your head. Realistically you don’t want to encourage the voice by doing what it says. After all, the voice’s ultimate goal seems to be killing you.”

BAHAHAHAH omfg you guys

I need to stop quoting from this bc I probably seem insane to those of you who haven’t read this, so stop being judgy buttheads and go read!

Nominated by @flamencodiva

The Choice (series) by @superfanficnatural

A couple of things. 1) this is an amazing fic that highlights Dean unwillingness to let himself go until it’s almost too late. and 2) the smut in this is hot hot hot hot! not for anyone under 18 years of age.

Mert has a way with words and can literally pluck you into one and make you see it as it comes to life in your head.

Mine (series) by @holylulusworld

Lulu has an abundance of different stories she tells and this one is my favorite of her ABO’s at the moment. (although I love all of them) I think this one deserved a mention. I am glad she joined to Pond so I could help nominate and spread her amazing work!

One Night at a Time (series) by @crashdevlin

Another great fic by Cassie! This one shot full of Angst, Smut, and if you squint just the right amount of Dean fluff. She has a way of capturing your attention and putting you in the world as you read.

What He Lost (oneshot) by @jensengirl83

This short story by Brandy is sure to rip your heart out. she leaves just a bit of hope where you think there is a chance only to crush it completely with the ending. This one is sure to bring you to tears if you are looking for the most delicious angsty story to read.

Nominated by @risingpheonix761

Down The Rabbit Hole (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

So, this was hysterical. XD I love crack fics, and bad smut in particular, and this one hits the spot. (I’ve also learned several new horrible euphemisms lol). The ending, though? Golden!

Nominated by @myinconnelly1

The Affair (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I love how well all the characters are portrayed I truly hate everyone except the reader! Well done!!

Red Riding Hood - or how you ran into a wolf... (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I have nothing to say about this. I will simply allow the puddle I have become to speak for me.

Last Omega On Earth (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

This was a great entry in the ABO world. and we need more of this and more like !!!!! Great work!

My Beta (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I am a greedy little bitch with this fic. I think I've read it 3-4 since i first read it this month!!!!!! READ THIS FIC!

Third Period (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

Some truly inspiring smut. Inspiring to change my panties.

Gods of Twilight (series) by @thecleverdame

I think i posted this fic in my rec before, but it is so amazing and intricate that i can't stop gushing about it. Fucking awesome.

Apple Pie (oneshot) by @bad268

The amazingness of this is great, check this guppy out!

Deal (oneshot) by @bad268

Comedy at some of its's finest!!!

Confession (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

THE FLUFFFFFFF!!!! I don't read straight fluff. So get the tissues ready.

Fallen (series) by idreamofplaid

My therapist has told me i'm not longer allowed to talk about this fic during our sessions. So instead i shall now talk about it here... *pulls out soapbox* ahem... *gets pulled away with hook*

Memory (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

This fic is older, but i love it so much. I recently went back and reread it, and the angst and reconciliation in this fic are heartwrenching.

Home (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

My dentist bill the month was higher than normal, due to the new cavities caused by this fic.

Imperfectly Yours (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Cuteness overload as you get Dean's perspective of Home ^^

Second Hand News (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Alright listen. I am a glutton for punishment. And this fic, I asked for. Also i had it set within one of the universes we now own. That all being said, reading this was like a dose of my own medicine and it fucking hurt.

Honesty And Lies (oneshot) by @crashdevlin

This was super dirty, and great. Totally recommend.

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

The Classifieds (oneshot) by @talesmaniac89

This is rip your heart out and stomp on it angst right here. So well written, but so, so heartbreaking.

So Much More Than Perfect (oneshot) by @imagineteamfreewill

This fic is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read. It made me tear up a bit, but who doesn’t love Dean being the most protective, most adorable dad ever?!

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

Dear Dean (series) by @smol-and-grumpy

It’s one of those series that makes you wants more after every chapter. It’s a brilliant story.

Left Behind (series) by @kittenofdoomage

It’s the only John Fic I can read over and over and over again. Its hot, the plot is awesome! And it makes me wants more each and every time I read it.

Not Much Left (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

I think Beka tries to kill her readers every time she writes smut… or she just tap into our mind what we want or what we fantasize about. Every single time I’m speechless by her talents!

Yes Professor (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

It’s a Misha fic, there’s no one who write Misha the way Beka does!!!

Owe You One (series) by @supernatural-jackles

It’s such a great series! The friends with Benefit and Mechanic!Dean… I just love this so much and I don’t have words to describe how good this one is!!

Flirty In French (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

This is brilliant, and I know its an old one, but from someone who finally decided to read more and from someone who is from Quebec, this is absolutely brilliant! The flirty french pick up line are so hilarious!

Nominated by @moosekateer13

Watching for Comets (series) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully captures the song that it was inspired by.

It also showcases things that when things are meant to be.

I’ll will all fall into place.

Please Trust Me (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully emotionally captures what it’s like to have trust issues.

Nominated by @fictionalabyss

Last Call (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

It was everything we needed and wanted.

Culinary Exploits (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

Too utterly ridiculous not to get a mention.

His Omega (oneshot) by @iflostreturntosteverogers

A sweet little comfort fic of Dean being utterly perfect caring for his Omega. Carrie also pulled off keeping this gender neutral, which isn’t something I see a lot of, and probably something I’d struggle with, so hats off to you, babe.

Poison (oneshot) by @supernatural-jackles

YES omg i feel this on such a level. I’ve gone through that shit myself. A friend who lets you down so profoundly but then acts as if you’re the most toxic person in the world. Nothing feels as good as letting go of that shit and moving on to better things. This was beautiful, and perfect, and TRUTH.

Amara (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

This one hurt. It really hurt, but it hurt so good that I’m left wanting more.

Take Me Now (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

If Dawn doesn’t continue this, I’ll riot.

Stuck On You (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

I rarely read a fic this long (I just don’t usually have the time) but it looked too interesting for me to scroll past, and it had me completely captivated. I needed to know what would happen as if I needed air, even though I could guess how it ended, I needed to read the words. Phenomenal.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

#afa masterlist #afa awards #angel fish awards #spn fic rec #spn fanfic #afas #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #fic rec #supernatural fic rec

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satonthelotuspier · 4 years

Text

Day 7 of Xichengclipse is here, and we’re almost done!

This turned a little away form the original concept into wanting to explore how societal pressures affect JC's notion of himself. He has this role he has to play in canon, especially young jc, the sect heir, the more sensible one to WWX's shenanigans, and I wonder if he ever found that stifling. I wanted to take a look at what that might mean in a different verse.

Lotus Lakes In Spring

Lan Xichen has suddenly started working late every night, and Jiang Cheng, insecure at the best of times, is imagining the worst. Although he had thought they had developed feelings for each other theirs was still a match of convenience, tying to powerful families together, and perhaps he's has enough of Jiang Cheng.

How far away from the truth is he? His therapist suggests there's only one way to find out - communication in relationships is key.

Featuring a JC struggling with societal expectations and his own nature, and a misunderstood LXC who's taking some matters into his own hands.

“It’s fine,” Jiang Cheng assured, except it really wasn’t. It wasn’t fine. They hadn’t spent any time together for weeks because Lan Xichen had been working constantly, and this afternoon was just another call to excuse himself from dinner, because he’d be working at the office until into the evening again.

It was a herculean effort, but he killed the needy keen in his voice; an omega begging for attention from his mate might sound cute in theory, but Jiang Cheng hated that he was so weak to the natural reaction.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow evening then, I have to be up early for a conference across town, so I need to go to bed early tonight.” He didn’t sound terribly pathetic, but it was a close thing.

“Sleep well, Wanyin, I’ll be quiet when I get in, so that I don’t wake you.”

He could feel the wetness behind his eyes, but worked hard to keep it out of his voice.

“Thank you, Xichen.”

With a few more pleasantries they ended the call, and Jiang Cheng stared at the bright-screened mobile in his hand.

Was Lan Xichen growing bored of him? Their relationship was complicated, no doubt, it wasn’t any secret that their match had been a power move, two of the biggest families in Suzhou, united in an act of politically motivated showmanship.

But Jiang Cheng had thought they had come to care for each other, despite neither having been the other’s choice. Lan Xichen was a kind and caring man, and an attentive alpha mate, and Jiang Cheng tried his best to be a good omega. Despite his quick temper, neediness, and easily embarrassed nature, he did try to be as good to his alpha as Lan Xichen was to him.

Perhaps with mixed results.

And that must be why the other was pulling away, having had enough of having to pander to him, to address the flaws in his character, and yes, in his body.

Jiang Cheng whined low in his throat, as he acknowledged the white elephant in the room. It must be, in part, because their matings hadn’t taken yet. Despite numerous heats shared together, he had yet to become pregnant. He was failing in an omega’s most basic function, and powerful dynasties, like the families they both came from, required heirs, and he wasn’t providing.

What was the point in bringing an omega into the family if he couldn’t breed?

Lan Xichen said it didn’t matter, things would happen in their own time, but that was just Lan Xichen, being nice, paying lip service. If it wasn’t an issue why was it in every gossip magazine? Every tabloid newspaper?

Taunting headlines about separate bedrooms and a lack of intimacy between the Lan heir and the Jiang heir, married for convenience, to further two powerhouses of political and economic might, but cold and distant with each other.

Until a few weeks ago they couldn’t have been further from the truth, he had fallen asleep in his husband’s arms every night, and they shared a full and mutually satisfying sex life, even outside of his heat cycles.

He was assured by the specialists he had consulted that there was no physical reason for it, that everything was in perfect working order; Lan Xichen had even supported him, attended the appointments with him, even submitted himself to a physical examination and tests to ensure there was no problems on his side either.

Jiang Cheng had been pleased to find that out that the kidnapping he had suffered as a young adult had left him with no lingering effects other than a pervasive fear of the dark.

Which meant it was him. He wasn’t broken medically, he was just broken.

Had Lan Xichen gone back to the lover he had stopped seeing in readiness for their marriage? Had he finally had enough of a mate that didn’t provide the things he should?

Who could blame him? Maybe these were the first tentative steps towards divorce?

He unlocked his phone and dialled.

“Wen Qing, can I talk to you?”

“I’m not your therapist, A-Cheng.”

“Your monthly invoice says differently. You’re damned expensive for someone who isn’t,” he snapped, and she snorted.

“I have a client in half an hour, but I’ll give you a call before I go home. It will be around five, alright?”

He agreed and they hung up.

***

He tried to process her advice that night as he lay in the bath he had taken to try and relax a little. The gist of their conversation had said he could drive himself silly with the what ifs, the suppositions, and the only way he’d get any closure on the issue was to ask Lan Xichen directly.

And that he should also talk to the other about his needs, that he missed the other and wanted attention.

Out of the two, Jiang Cheng thought the latter was the least likely to pass his lips. How pathetic would it make him seem to be begging his own husband for attention?

He was that pathetic though, he really, really wanted to.

He bathed, changed for bed, and, ensuring the small lamp near his side of the bed was on, settled down to sleep in a bed that seemed all too empty, because Lan Xichen wasn’t in it beside him.

***

It must have been the sound of the thunder that awoke him, as he shot upright in bed, and began to panic. The room was pitch dark, and he felt his chest tightening and his breathing speeding to shallow pants in immediate reaction to the darkness. He mewled; a lost child. It was oppressive, and closing in on him ever faster.

“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen’s voice sounded, clear and soothing by his ear. “Damn.” There was some scrabbling around, then a flare of light in the darkness. “Here, take this, baby.” Lan Xichen’s phone, with the torch function on full, was pressed into his shaking hands, and he waved it wildly around the room, checking in the shadows while the other gave him space to ensure he was safe.

Eventually he calmed enough to accept Lan Xichen’s arms around him, as he was pulled into the other’s lap and hugged tightly.

“You’re safe, sweetness, you’re safe here with me.” Lan Xichen kept up the steady, soft, stream of reassurance, stroking his hair and kissing wherever his lips landed until Jiang Cheng regained some measure of control over himself.

He didn’t have quite enough to control his tongue, however, “Don’t leave me, Xichen, please don’t leave me. I’m trying so hard to be better for you. I am.”

The stroking hand paused, then slid to his shoulders and held him away from Lan Xichen’s chest so the other could look at him, “What do you mean, Wanyin? Of course I’m not going to leave you, I know you don’t like the dark, it’s not a surprise to me. I’ll hold you until dawn or the power comes back on. I don’t mind.”

“B-but you’re avoiding me. You’re staying at work all the time now, like you don’t want to be with me, or you’re seeing someone e-else.” It could only be described as a wail, and Jiang Cheng hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop now the dam had burst. “I kn-know I haven’t given you heirs yet, but I’m trying my b-best.”

“Wanyin? Why…” Lan Xichen sucked in a breath, then moved his hands up to cup his face gently, “you silly thing, we’ve discussed this again and again. I don’t care. It will happen when it happens, or it won’t, and that’s fine too,” Lan Xichen’s thumbs rubbed over Jiang Cheng’s cheeks, wiping away the tears, “I’m working late because I’m trying to clear my schedule early, before your next heat cycle. I’ve been looking for places we can get away from the city and take it easy for a while, and you might relax enough to enjoy yourself a little more, instead of worrying incessantly about something that is so completely out of your control.”

Of course, Lan Xichen’s words only made him cry harder, and try to wrap himself around the other.

“And how could I consider seeing someone else? Who would ever match up to my beautiful omega? No one else smells of lotus and soft spring rain on a lake like you, no one else has that fiery, challenging gaze for me,” Lan Xichen feathered his lips against Jiang Cheng’s jawline, and he preened at the praise falling from the other’s lips, hmming his approval, “and no one else would look half as divine spread across our bed, tousled and well-loved and marked so completely as mine, as you do.”

Jiang Cheng growled, “Yes, I want that, show me, alpha, Xichen, show me I’m yours.”

Lan Xichen pulled the torch phone out of Jiang Cheng’s hands, and placed it besides them, so it still cast a glow, and pushed forward to pin the other beneath him. “As my omega wishes.”

***

Jiang Cheng lay back against the unfamiliar-smelling bed, while Lan Xichen rubbed gently at the arch of his right foot. He had never considered his feet erogenous zones but the way Lan Xichen touched him, anywhere, everywhere, so possessively, so soothingly, with such an intent to relax, to make love to. He made a soft, light sound of delight, surrender, and contentment in his throat, which was mirrored by a more aggressive sound in his alpha’s.

The bed would soon be flooded in the scent of their pheromones, overwhelming whatever neutral washing agent the hotel used, when his heat hit in earnest.

But at the moment he was riding it’s edge, extremely sensitive, a little excited, by the nearness of his alpha, but too relaxed to move. That would change soon enough, but he intended to enjoy this for as long as he could.

He was so lucky, to be this cared for, to be this precious to someone. He still felt so guilty that he had suspected Lan Xichen of having an affair, when the other had been working hard to provide an environment where the mate he knew was so tense and stressed about their inability to fall pregnant, could relax, let go, and forget about the newspapers, the pressure of his family, and just enjoy what should, after all, be a pleasure-filled few days, worshipped by his alpha, like any beautiful omega should be.

“I love you.” The words were out before Jiang Cheng realised, and he would have slapped a hand over his mouth, but the deep, pleased, possessive sound that came from Lan Xichen’s throat made his toes curl.

He felt a flush of heat begin to run through every nerve ending in his body at the same moment Lan Xichen released his ankle, and moved between his lifted knees, almost more tuned in to Jiang Cheng’s heat than he was himself. He looked dangerous, and hungry as he lowered his head to mouth at the pulse pounding at Jiang Cheng’s throat as the room flooded with the smell of lotus lakes in spring.

“Love you too,” he raised his head briefly to reciprocate, before returning back to sucking a mark against Jiang Cheng’s throat.

***

It had been a wonderful idea, to take this away from the city, from all the factors pressing expectation down on Jiang Cheng, and they decided to stay for a day longer than Lan Xichen had originally planned, as they were both exhausted after a very pleasurable heat spent worshipping each other.

It became a regular thing, and it was no surprise to Lan Xichen, who had theorised privately, that it was probably the stress of expectation and regard on Jiang Cheng, that was causing the problems, that it wasn’t too many heats later that they were cuddled on their bed together awaiting the results of the chemist-bought pregnancy test Jiang Cheng had purchased on his way back from the office earlier that evening.

He had sat through so many hopeful tests himself, only to have them come back negative, Jiang Cheng was almost too terrified to look after the required time. He hadn’t wanted to expose Lan Xichen to this side of him, the failed omega, desperate to fulfil his purpose and obsessed with his inability to do so, but he felt that this time, even if it was negative he was in a better place to deal with that, with his alpha, his mate, his husband, by his side.

It was positive, however, and it was a long time before Jiang Cheng was coherent enough at the news to discuss it with Lan Xichen, who held him close as he went from elated to terrified and back again over and over again.

The feelings only abated a little that night in bed, where they lay together in the soft sheen of the lamp behind Jiang Cheng, talking about their future.

“You’ll have to cut back on those ridiculous coffees you drink, baby.” Lan Xichen teased him gently, and Jiang Cheng frowned unhappily.

“Ugh, but where are the gossip mags going to get their photos from if I don’t go to the coffee shop?” He grinned suddenly, “I can’t wait to maternity it up, they are going to get so many baby bump shots. Infertile, separate beds, hah,” he ground his teeth in irritation, then forgot it just as quickly as he went through another plateau of delight at the thought their child growing tenaciously in his belly.

#xichengclipse2020 #xicheng #alpha/beta/omega verse #mpreg #struggling to become pregnant #mdzs fanfic #Shay's stuff

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queen-of-bel · 4 years

Note

i think someone already asked for paz and kaz?? if not then them, in case someone asked for them, kandori and maki for the hc meme!

MY TWO FAVE DUOS EVER. i’ll do them all bc i could fill out a hundred prompts about them

Persona 1, Persona 2EP, general Metal Gear spoilers incoming

Putting under a read more because it is loooong (sorry in advance)

Kandori

realistic: Oh, Kandori was absolutely the one who alerted Nanjo to his existence in p2ep. I’ve written multiple posts on Kandori’s motivations, but bottom line, Kandori wanted to work against Nyarlathotep’s plans as much as he believed his fate would allow him to. Kandori had infinite strength and should have been the impenetrable stronghold that kept Tatsuzou safe. He is the only boss in the entire game to not have a low health stance, and he resists everything. He’s able to catch Tatsuya’s sword with one hand, as Tatsuya says:

“Kandori tilts his face out of the way, and when my blade grazes his ear, he grabs it with his left hand. All I have to do is pull back, and it’ll cost him his fingers. He gives me a broad, natural smile. However, even when I yank it with all my strength, my sword doesn’t move a centimeter. It’s like it’s caught in a vise.”

Kandori’s revival should not have been found out by anyone (especially since everyone watched him die the first time). But somehow, the word leaked back to Nanjo. It’s not impossible to think that it was Togashi who leaked the information, but there’s a line of Kandori’s that really makes me think Kandori himself was the source.

Once Maya et. al + Tatsuya arrive on the Nichinmaru, Kandori says that “all the players are in place”, implying that he’s the one who brought them all together like this. This was a very meticulously crafted plan, and it only could’ve worked if Nanjo heard of Kandori’s revival, which leads me to believe that it was Kandori, not Togashi, who spread the rumors of his own revival.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Due to the high levels of contempt he feels for Tatsuzou, I’d love to think that Kandori just fucks with Tatsuzou constantly. He’ll move all the furniture in Tatsuzou’s office just a few inches to the left, or he’ll swap the position of some of the books on his shelf. It’s infuriating to Tatsuzou bc Kandori’s antics are just enough that he knows something is off, but he can never pinpoint exactly what it is. Kandori, meanwhile, insists that nothing is wrong, and convinces Tatsuzou that it’s just his old age getting to him.

heart-crushing and awful: I bet Kandori kept tabs on the P1 crew during his time under Tatsuzou. While he’s said to have an obsession with Tatsuya, there’s no reason to believe that the care he showed for Maki in P1 went away, and he’s grateful to the P1 cast for saving her. I like to think that Kandori found out that Reiji’s going to have a child, and stashed away a large amount of money (bonus points if he embezzled from Tatsuzou) to send to him, especially since Reiji’s girlfriend’s house collapsed. Kandori doesn’t sign his name on it or anything, so the money arrives to Reiji in an unmarked envelope, with only Reiji’s name written on it.

Reiji first thinks that it might have been Nanjo who sent the money (because that envelope is packed, and Nanjo is the only person he knows rich enough to send that much). Nanjo denies this, and after a while, the two of them come to the conclusion that the only other possible person could have been Kandori. Reiji thankfully accepts the money, and this whole incident reinforces in his mind that “Takashi” was the right name to choose for his son.

unrealistic: In order to cope with the boredom and emptiness he felt as SEBEC’s Mikage-Cho branch president, Kandori set up a secret room in SEBEC filled with video game consoles. During the height of his depression, Kandori would just be so engrossed in his games that he would forget he has actual meetings to go to. Cue Takeda apologizing profusely to clients, saying that Kandori’s running a bit late, and Takeda has to practically drag Kandori by the collar out of the little gamer den that he’s created for himself.

Maki

realistic: After her training under Eriko, she realizes that she misses painting and wants to pick it up again. She eventually incorporates that into her profession, becoming an art therapist.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Maki really wants to be good at baking, but she’s terrible at it. You know, like this:

She knows that she’s created a monstrosity but at least it’s still edible, right? So she brings these to P1 cast reunions. Nanjo is just appalled, and has to excuse himself because he knows he’s just going to be too blunt (prompting Mark to call him a “dickweed” again). Yuka, having no filter, just straight up says how horrible they look, but then she offers to teach Maki how to bake, since she’s pretty damn good at it herself.

heart-crushing and awful: Maki definitely regrets not accompanying Maya to the Nichinmaru. She doesn’t blame Nanjo/Eriko for not being able to save Kandori, but ever since she heard that Kandori was alive again, she’s wanted nothing more than to talk to him again.

She thinks that if she were there at the undersea ruins, maybe she could have convinced him to come along with her. This regret is just going to add to the massive amounts of guilt she feels over the Mikage-Cho incident.

unrealistic: It took ideal Maki a while to perfect her “cringe” negotiation. When she first tried it, she would burst out laughing too much, absolutely ruining it, and angering a lot of demons along the way.

Paz

realistic: Kaz has constantly asked her to come feed treats to Nuke with him. She’s always agreed, because that’s the role she’s supposed to play, but she really hates it at first. Eventually, as she comes to like Kaz more, it becomes the highlight of her day, and she begins to really look forward to it. She finds herself prolonging Nuke’s feeding sessions, just so she can spend more time with Nuke and Kaz.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: So you know how Paz couldn’t stand Kaz at first? She wasn’t exactly subtle about it, so everyone at MSF knew that Paz thought Kaz was an enormous idiot. Cecile was so happy to find someone else who felt that way about Kaz (and she’s always wanted a reason to get closer to Paz), so she goes to Paz to air her grievances about what a pest Monsieur Miller is being. Paz, meanwhile, does not give a single shit. She still thinks Cecile is just a ditz, and now she’s irritated that she has to deal with both Kaz and Cecile’s annoying antics.

heart-crushing and awful: I’ve thought about this for a long time. I really have. But there is nothing, absolutely nothing that can be any more awful than what we got in canon. I have a lot of characters that fall under the “deserved better” category, but Paz takes the top of that list.

Paz is a unique character in Metal Gear in that she was not supposed to have anything to do with war. Other characters’ lives in the series were intertwined with war, whether by choice or by fate. Even characters like Chico or Sunny were born into it, given their parents and upbringing.

It’s never clear how Zero was able to come in contact with Paz, but I think it was intentional to never specify it. It’s not important to know how Zero found Paz, because fundamentally, Paz is not an important person. She’s nobody special. She was literally just some random orphan living in the US, and Zero went out of his way to drag her into his plans.

To me, Paz’s character parallels the child soldiers in Zanzibar Land. They’re both representative of how ruthless Zero and Big Boss were in their quests to fulfill their interpretations of the Boss’ will. Zero and Big Boss were both willing to employ any tactic possible to reach this end goal, and they didn’t care about the pain and destruction they left in their path.

But I digress...

That being said, I think Paz felt sick when she saw MSF soldiers playing with the mini remote-controlled ZEKE that Huey had built. For her, it was just a reminder of the duty that she had to carry out. She wasn’t allowed to be happy at MSF, and she eventually would have to fight to the death with Snake.

unrealistic: Writing Love Deterrence with Kaz and Zadornov made her want to learn how to play the guitar. In my totally self-indulgent “Zero and Skull Face both get brain aneurysms and drop dead 4 days before Peace Day” AU, Paz approaches Kaz and asks him to give her guitar lessons.

Kaz

realistic: The morning after the monthly birthday party at MSF (you know, where Kaz invited everyone to see the real Kazuhira Miller?), he’s embarrassed as hell. He been so protective of Paz the entire night, and it turned out he was the crudest person at the party. He goes to apologize to Paz, and can barely look her in the eyes as he’s doing so. Paz, meanwhile, can’t stop laughing. Her opinion of Kaz had been softening ever since he visited her when she was sick, but interacting with him during the party had really made her like him. Kaz still feels a bit of shame, but upon seeing Paz genuinely laugh for the first time, he can’t help but feel so publicly embarrassing himself was all worth it.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: MORE 90S FOXHOUND PETTINESS

The first year that both Big Boss and Kaz are at FOXHOUND, Kaz bakes a cake for BB’s birthday. As BB accepts the cake, he wonders if Kaz has forgiven him, but then he looks down at it and sees

And these are the cheapest, shittiest cigarettes that Kaz could make, because you know his petty ass rolled them himself. BB picks up a cigarette and it’s so sloppily rolled that it immediately falls apart and the tobacco spills all over the cake and the floor and BB looks up to Kaz and Kaz is just smiling back like

heart-crushing and awful: Ohoho, I have many thoughts as to Master Miller’s life post-Zanzibar Land and his final moments. Now that Big Boss is finally dead, Kaz’s life loses all meaning. Skull Face, Huey, Big Boss, they’re all dead, and suddenly, the decades of anger he carried with him has nowhere to channel itself to. I think he becomes an empty shell of a man, just sort of running on autopilot.

So when Ocelot breaks into Kaz’s house to kill him, you absolutely know that Ocelot wasn’t discrete about it. There’s no way that Ocelot’s overdramatic cowboy ass didn’t gloat about it, to show that he was able to get the upper hand in the end.

Kaz just doesn’t care.

Kaz’s life is plagued with regrets. While none of it was intentional, his impulsivity and short-sightedness has really screwed over a lot of people and absolutely destroyed so many people’s lives. I think when Ocelot came to kill Kaz (and I’m going to toss in a bit of torture, just because Ocelot’s petty ass remembers Kaz complaining about Ocelot’s getting “too many kicks from his ‘art of interrogation’”), Kaz just resigned and doesn’t even attempt to fight back. He knows that this is a sad and undignified way to die, but he believes that this is karma and he deserves it.

unrealistic: Okay I’ve talked about this a little, but I want to add to it.

Kaz absolutely kept a Burn Book like in Mean Girls.

After MGSV, Big Boss and Ocelot make their way in the book as well. Underneath Ocelot’s picture, Kaz writes “Too gay to function. Also, cowboys are stupid.” BB has got 5 whole pages dedicated to him, but the line that Kaz is most proud of is “Didn't shower for a month... during SUMMER, and to this day still hasn't washed his hair.”

Thank you for asking!

send me a character and i’ll give you some headcanons

#OH LORD THIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY #mg #p1 #p2 #takahisa kandori #maki sonomura #paz ortega andrade #kazuhira miller #also now i want to rewatch mean girls #i saw the shower quote in the burn book and immediately thought of bb #also how can you not hear the 'too gay to function' line and NOT think of ocelot #90s foxhound x mean girls crossover #is it a surprise that these two are my fave duos ever?#the parallels between them #heartbreaking #thinking of zero as nyarlathotep #very juicy food for thought #answered

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thecleverdame · 5 years

Text

Control and Release - 20

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: With the rest of the staff caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Words: 4k

Parts 21, 22, 23 & 24 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories, including the ABO series Gods of Twilight and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

“Holy shit,” you mutter, staring at your black and blue ass in the mirror. These marks aren’t faint or small. Your backside is covered with thick, deep blue welts from his belt. You woke up on your stomach, only to wince in pain once you rolled over. Then you sat up and nearly yelped at the ache. But now as you stand naked in the bathroom you can’t help but smile, twisting around to get a better look. While you’re going to have a hard time sitting down, it’s a thrilling reminder of last night. A reminder of something new and this connection that’s growing between you and Sam.

Your phone rings and you glance at the number, sighing before answering.

“Hey, mom-”

“Don’t you ‘hey mom’ me. You said you’d call me back and I haven’t heard a peep in forty-eight hours. I’ve been calling and calling.”

“The FBI took my phone. This one came by courier this morning, honestly, I just turned it on like ten minutes ago.”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Of course not,” you roll your eyes, glancing at your butt one last time. “A lot’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.”

“Do you want to come home? You can move home with your dad and I. We haven't touched your room.”

“I’m not moving back to Albuquerque. I’m okay, really.”

“And what? You’re headed to Chicago all by your lonesome after what happened? That’s not a good idea.”

“No, I’m staying here in Boston. Things have changed.”

“I’ll come there, then. I was looking at flights this morning. Your father and I can be there by this afternoon.”

“Mom, seriously, I’m fine,” you suppress the urge to get riled up. She loves you, but sometimes it’s too much. Slipping into the closet you find your tiny section of clothes amid Sam’s vast wardrobe.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you’re not fine,” she fires back. “Who would be alright after something like that? I’m coming there to take care of you.”

“No, mom, just stop and listen to me. I’m a little shook but honestly, I’m doing good. I’m seeing a therapist. I’m going to be late for my appointment if I don’t hurry up and get dressed.”

“No one should have to go through this alone, sweetheart.”

“I told you, I’m not alone.” You stop to look at the empty bed, Sam was up and out the door before the sun came up. “I’ve got people here. Just please, stop worrying about me so much. I’ll call every day, I promise.”

“I don’t like this. You said you were moving because there was nothing left for you in that God awful city and now you’re staying?”

“Things just...changed. I’ve got positive things here, but it’s hard to talk about it. I feel like shit for talking about anything good that’s in my life when people were just killed. I need time to process everything.”

“Who’s going to make sure you eat? Your appetite is always the first thing to go when you’re stressed. Are you in a hotel? Where are you staying?”

“I’m with a friend until I get my living situation figured out.”

“Thank God, hotels are so impersonal. With those tiny soaps and the coffee is never good. You need a home.”

“Look, I have to go. I’m going to call you later, okay?”

“Alright, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

As you hang up you walk to the small dresser at the back of the closet and open the top drawer. The two photos that used to be on display are now tucked out of sight You take out the one of him in college. He’s so happy and in love, it’s hard to imagine your Sam is this same person.

If nothing else it’s a reminder of the fact that people are capable of great change.

Walking down the hallways of the hospital you glance down at the paper in your hand with a room number written on it. Pausing at room 7059 you confirm the name scribbled on the dry erase board and knock.

“Come in,” calls out a male voice.

“Hi.” You shuffle inside, leaning around the curtains pulled in a half-circle around his bed. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.”

“You’re the last face I expected to see,” Tim laughs and then coughs, grimacing in pain. “But you’re not bothering me. I’m bored out of my mind.”

“Are you sure? I can come back later…” you’re already backing out of the room as he leans forward, wincing in pain.

“Please, just sit down. I’d like the company.”

You step around his bed, sitting in the plastic chair pulled up beside it. Your eyes flutter closed as your ass throbs.

“Oh, I brought you something,” you remember, reaching into your bag and pulling out a copy of The Reckoning by John Grisham. “It was this or Danielle Steel. The gift shop didn’t have a lot of options. I don’t even know if you like to read.” It’s at that moment you spot a Kindle lying beside him on the bed. “Or if you already have an e-reader with access to any book you want.”

“This thing is my mom’s, it’s full of Agatha Christie novels and I don’t have her password to buy anything else.” He holds up the Kindle. “I do like to read and I prefer books. Thank you for bringing me something other than flowers.”

He gestures around the room.

“Wow,” you look at the dozen or so bouquets and potted plants. “I guess people go with what they know.”

“I guess,” he nods, smiling at you. “I’m glad you’re alright,”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re alright too.” You shift in the chair. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t think I would be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“Eh,” he grumbles, looking away. “I’m not the hero in this story. Winchester is the one who took him out.”

“True, but you distracted him. People were running and you stepped forward, put your arms out in front of us.”

“That was nothing. Just instincts.”

You shrug. “Instincts that bought the rest of us a few seconds. Sam got there just in time, but if you hadn’t tried to help us, I don’t think it would have ended the same way for me. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He nods, clearing his throat. “I heard Callie, the redhead who did the corporate travel arrangements...she died this morning in surgery.”

“Yeah,” you confirm, feeling the sadness swell into your throat. “Max died last night. They thought he might make it, but he didn’t.”

The death toll kept rising. It turns out Brent used a particularly nasty bullet designed to do the maximum amount of damage. A lot of the people who survived the initial attack are struggling with serious complications.

“Shit.” Tim sits back against the pillow. You’re both silent as the murmur of the TV rambles in the background. “I’m starting to think I must be lucky. This is actually the third time I’ve taken a bullet. I’m three for three.”

“I heard that. You never know what’s rumor and what’s not but people said that’s why you left the service.”

“That was the second time. But the better story is the first time. I was just a kid. My brother accidentally shot me with my dad’s .22. He was grounded for a year and I got all the chocolate ice cream I could eat. Hell, I still do. My mom brought me some this morning.”

“Maybe you are lucky,” you laugh, checking your cell phone.

Two messages are scrawled across the screen.

Sam: Meet me for lunch.

Sam: Parish Cafe at 1:30

“Someone important?” Tim grins.

“Important and demanding,” you chuckle, responding see you there and put the phone away. “Look I know I don’t know you and I don’t want to make this weird, but if you’re feeling up to it do you think we could get together next week?”

His eyebrows shoot up and you backtrack, shaking your head in embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean...I...God, I’m bad at this. I’m seeing a therapist, and yesterday she suggested that I reach out and try to connect with some of the people who were there when it happened. I was kinda hoping Millie would join us, maybe Lexi - God bless her.”

Tim laughs out loud at that, nodding in agreement.

“Sure, I didn’t have much of a social life before all this and I’m guessing I’ll be a captive audience for some time.”

“Awesome.”

“I thought you were moving? Seems like this would be the perfect opportunity to get the fuck out of dodge.”

You stare at him, a million thoughts merging all at once.

“Things changed.”

“Important and demanding things?” he questions and you can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks.

“Yes,” you whisper, getting up. “So, I guess I’ll see you next week then.”

“Just let me know.” He gives you a little salute.

Sam’s seated in the back of the dark little restaurant, reading on his iPad when you join him.

“Sorry I’m late,” you slip into the chair across from him, biting your lip as the sting of the bruises take your breath away. “I don’t think my Uber driver has lived here very long.”

“I could have sent a car for you.” He finishes what he’s reading before looking up. A flicker moves from his eyes to his mouth, just a ghost of a smile. “I like that dress.”

You look down at the black and white gingham summer dress you bought yesterday. “Thanks, it’s new.”

“I don’t normally see you this casual.”

“I guess that’s true,” you grin at him. He looks handsome today. Sam always looks good, but there’s something about when he doesn’t wear a tie and lets the top buttons of his shirt lay open that you just love. “You like it huh?”

“Very much,” he confirms. He carefully places his tablet and his phone screen down on the table. It’s something new he’s started doing when he intends on giving you his full attention.

“So,” you take the cloth napkin, folding it over your lap. “This was unexpected. I thought you’d be too busy.”

“Not for you,” he responds succinctly and you feel your heart speed up.

This is Sam trying.

“You keep saying things like that and we might need to get a room after lunch,” you laugh, then realize how much easier this feels, more natural than before. You worried it would be hard to relax around him, but that’s not the case.

“That could be an interesting prospect,” he trails his finger around the edge of his water glass, lost somewhere between amusement and arousal. “Not today, but another time.”

“I’ll look forward to it then. You know, I haven’t officially asked yet, can I have my job back?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, “In fact, I’m thinking of placing you as a sort of mentor to a new guy I have coming in.”

“A mentor? I’m barely a secretary.”

“I meant more of a mentor for navigating the people, the office politics. What happened with Brent can’t happen again. I need someone down in the trenches watching the junior associates. After what happened with you and Max, and now Brent it’s clear it’s the wild west and I intend to reign it in. I should have seen it before.”

“What exactly happened...with Brent?”

“It’s not clear yet. I think Brent took the fall for a couple of other guys, they set him up to be a scapegoat. I suspected it at the time but I also have to walk a fine line. I can’t accuse senior staff of lying unless I have something to back it up. It undermines their authority. I’m bringing in several people from the outside for oversight, we need a fresh start.”

“What are you going to do about the building?”

“Have it demolished. I can’t expect anyone to work there. I was focused on expanding the campus, but now that’s futile. There are two buildings downtown, big enough for everyone but I have to ensure it’s the right fit. I’m headed there this afternoon if you’d like to join me.”

“I’d like that,” you watch him pick up the menu.

You could get used to this.

Two Weeks Later

“You found a place?” Sam inquires, looking through the stack of mail.

“Yup, it’s a loft. It’s small but there are tall ceilings so it doesn’t feel claustrophobic. Lots of windows. It’s exactly what I need right now.” You grin, plopping down on his couch. “They said I can move in next Monday.”

“Are you ready for that?” he inquires nonchalantly, skimming over a letter. “You said your therapist suggested you shouldn’t be alone, not for a while.”

“I’m not gonna be alone. We start working at the office on Wednesday, I always spend weekends with you and I’m hoping maybe I could see you during the week sometimes...it’s been nice spending time together, you know, other than sex.”

You watch him absorb this confession, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he sets the remaining mail aside and looks at you.

“It’s been different than I thought. I haven’t shared personal space like this in a very long time. I assumed I would feel suffocated, but I haven’t. You’re easy to be around.” He delivers this information deadpan and your entire face goes hot. “It’s been nice.”

“Maybe you could come to my place sometime? I can try to cook something, and I’ll probably have a futon by then. Maybe even a loveseat if my boss gives me a raise with this fancy new position. You can see how the other half lives.”

“That sounds...terrible,” he grins, watching you carefully.

“Yeah, it does,” you laugh out loud, genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. “But I am getting a new bed, I ordered it this morning. We could break it in…”

“You let me know once the futon arrives and I’ll drop by.” He gives in, checking his watch. “There is one thing we need to talk about.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous,” you chatter, giving him your full attention.

“You asked me to void our contract. I had it taken care of this morning.” He gives a curt little nod.

“I wanted to talk about that...about us and how this works now. I’d still prefer if our relationship remained private. For the time being at least.” You’ve been thinking about it more and more over the last few days.

“I understand,” Sam agrees easily.

“It’s just, people will assume a lot of things. And they’re nosey. I like this being just ours.”

“You don’t have to explain, I understand. My life entails more than you realize. No one pays attention to me because I don’t date actresses or get DUIs, but once you’re in the mix, eventually someone will take an interest.”

“We’re not very scandalous,” you snort, “Well, I guess kind of, but not in a ‘Page Six’ way.”

“True.” Sam looks relaxed, more at ease than you’ve seen him since this thing between you started. “You’re always welcome here,” he adds, before shifting his attention back to his work.

“You start work tomorrow?” Carol, your psychiatrist, is always examining you. But that’s why you come here, to be an open book. You’ve always been open to the idea of therapy and after everything that’s happened this can’t hurt.

“Yeah, going in on a Wednesday. We’re starting back up with a three day week.” It’s been a month since the shooting and life has inevitably moved despite the many changes. “I’m kinda nervous. I keep having this thought that I shouldn’t feel so normal. Like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and have some kind of a breakdown or something.”

“Are you still experiencing triggers?”

“Yeah,” you admit. This is the most frustrating part for you. Ninety-nine percent of the time you’re fine but out of the blue you find yourself spiraling down this dark hole. The panic attacks hit you out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly. It’s normal, that’s what everyone keeps telling you, but the unpredictability of it is infuriating. “I went three days with nothing and then last night we were eating dinner and bam. I almost passed out. Five minutes later I was fine.”

“Was there anything that stood out about that moment? A loud noise? Someone yelling?”

“No,” you shrug. “I was in the kitchen. I don’t even turn the TV on anymore. I never noticed before how many guns there are. Someone’s always shooting or talking about it. The first couple of times it happened I thought that was it. CNN was on the background, maybe I heard something I didn’t realize. But I’ve officially marked that off as a possibility. The trigger must be something else.”

“Well, just keep an eye on it. Next time it happens try to make a note of the details. Write it down right away, or take a video with your cell phone. We’ll figure it out. And if it gets bad, you call me and we can talk about medication again.”

“Honestly, I feel fine most of the time. I was thinking this morning I must be a psychopath. You know I didn’t even cry at Max’s funeral?”

“We’ve talked about survivor's guilt. Everyone’s experience is different. That’s just one facet of it. Take things slow and if you start to experience any emotional discomfort, take a step back.” She suggests, supportive as ever.

“I will. I’m ready to just dive in. I’ve got this new position and a new apartment.” You smile, thinking about all the emerging possibilities.

“New relationship,” she adds, as if you’ve purposely avoided mentioning it. And maybe you have. It’s not that she doesn’t approve, but she’s cautious.

“I know you don’t think it’s a good idea, but we’re actually in a good place.”

“I never said that I thought it was a bad idea. I simply pointed out that you hold things back when it comes to him. You stop yourself from spilling too many details. Sometimes that can be a warning sign. And your work situation is less than ideal. You said he’s your boss?”

“More like...my boss’s boss’s boss. He’s at the top of the food chain.”

“Well, it’s probably better he’s that far removed.” She makes a note on her pad. “And your sex life remains one hundred percent consensual?”

“Yeah, God, you make it sound like there’s something wrong with it.”

“Again, that’s you projecting what you assume my opinions are. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask. You’re certainly not the first woman in the world who enjoyed being tied up. There’s nothing wrong with it as long as it’s not having a negative impact on your self-worth or emotional health.”

“No, things are really good, all around. It sounds so fucked up to say that, but I feel like my life has a future. Is that weird? It’s not that I was sad or depressed before, but I was treading water. Now I’m going somewhere.”

“Sometimes terrible things bring necessary change. You didn’t know how to move forward here, and now you do.”

The new offices are two high rise buildings connected by a walkway. It’s just temporary until Sam decides on where to build the new campus but for the next couple years, this is the home of W & S.

Glancing at the post-it in your hand you look again at the number in front of you.

Workspace 2852

The office team had decided everything is now labeled as a workspace. There are no more offices and cubicles. Only workspaces - that look exactly like traditional offices and cubicles. You trail down the aisle, cubicles flanking the left and offices against the right-hand wall. Coming to the end of the cubicles you check the paper again. You must have missed it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Gloria from the travel team asks.

“I can’t find my desk. Maybe I’m on the wrong floor,” you explain.

She takes the paper from you, looking at the number and pointing to a small office tucked into the corner. “2852, right there.”

“No way,” you grin, getting closer only to find your last name scrawled across a piece of masking tape in the center of the door.

“Sorry about the tape. The nameplates are coming, that’ll have to do for now.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re beaming like an idiot, opening the door and stepping inside. It’s small, but the ceilings are vaulted and it’s literally in the corner of the building. Two walls are floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city below. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, scarcely able to believe this is your little corner of the world.

The office is naked, just a desk, computer and filing cabinet. But it’s yours.

There’s a single, white envelope on the desk and you have a feeling who’s left it for you. Inside is a note written on the back of a business card.

Enjoy. You deserve it.

“Sam,” you whisper, clutching the little card like it’s a bouquet of flowers. Turning the card over you’re met with another shock. The card is yours. Your name with the title of Department Liaison underneath.

“Sorry to bother you.” A new voice and two knocks come from behind you. You turn to find an unassuming man standing in the doorway. “I know you're probably busy. I just wanted to drop in and introduce myself. I’m Cole Trenton.”

Cole Trenton, your new boss.

“Hi,” you beam back. He looks...nice. There’s a big smile plastered across his face as he extends his hand. His handshake is firm but not too hard, some men feel the need to crush you to prove a point but not him. “Y/N. I just got here. I’m not normally late but I couldn’t find my des- office.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waves his hand dismissing any concern. Shoving both hands in his pockets he wanders inside, looking at your view. Whistling, he looks back at you. “Someone must like you. I’m right next door, mine is bigger, but nothing like this.”

“To be honest I thought I’d be stuck out there in cubicle land.”

“Not anymore.” He taps your desk with the back of his knuckles. “I’m not sure what your schedule looks like today, but I was hoping we could sit down and I could pick your brain. You’re my eyes and ears right?”

“Absolutely,” you affirm. “Welcome, by the way. We’ve needed someone like you for a long time.”

“I’m lucky to be here. Working for Sam Winchester was pipe dream up until two weeks ago. I just don’t wanna screw this up. I’ve heard he’s a bastard but he can make or break you.”

“He’s not so bad,” you feel the business card burning a hole in your hand. “He just has high expectations.”

“I’m alright with that,” he chuckles lifting his hands palms forward in a sign of submission. “Let me know once you’re settled in. Whadda you say we order a pizza and go over employee files. It’ll be the first act of official business in your new workspace.”

“That sounds great. It looks like you’ll have to bring your own chair.” You’re on cloud nine. You’ve got a boss that doesn’t hate you with his very marrow. “It’s nice to meet you, Cole.”

“You too.” He pats the door frame on the way out, leaving you truly immersed in this new beginning.

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut

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blythecreamer · 4 years

Text

Finally...

I’m writing again. For a long time I felt like there was nothing to say. It often feels like Groundhog Day around here. But actually a lot has been going on. It’s been 19 weeks of quarantine. It’s crazy to think about. I am still very anxious. Still taking only 1/2 klonopin a day (amazing!). But somehow managing my anxiety. Coloring helps me immensely. I do it every day and I feel relaxed, focused on that process only, my mind is still for a few hours. I’ve also started meeting with my therapist twice a week instead of monthly. That has made a world of difference. She pushes me to confront my anxieties and challenge them, taking baby steps. She wants me to move closer to accepting the “new normal.” I have major anxiety about leaving the house. She wants me to take walks without Mark (which I still haven’t done). We haven’t even been going on walks together very much lately. I’ve got to motivate. But I HAVE left the house 8 times!! Once to the dentist, 3 times to the grocery store, twice to Royal Farms, once to get my hair cut, and once to CVS. And CVS wasn’t a quick run—I had to deal with them fucking up one of my prescriptions. I DID IT!! I am amazed!!! Mark and my therapist were so proud! It’s SO crazy going into the grocery store. It’s totally surreal. It’s like you get into this primal mode where you’re just like “grab anything that looks good!!!!” Its crazy. My other main source of anxiety (besides the other larger and most obvious anxiety-me or Mark getting COVID and dying) is about Mark going to work. I worry about him SO MUCH. I am so stressed about how I will manage his return to work. What will I do to fill up me empty days alone? I am afraid I’ll get depressed. It’s so fucking stressful. This has been another issue I’ve been unpacking with my therapist. We are developing some strategies to keep me busy while I’m alone. I’m still freaked the fuck out. So my anxiety is always there-manifesting itself in different ways-at bay some days, perseveration other days. I have chronic nightmares. One minute I’m fine, the next I’m overwhelmed. Things are going ok with my new psychiatrist. She has kept my bipolar/anxiety meds the same-and I can’t really blame her. It seems like a potentially dangerous move to switch things up considering the situation. I feel a bit overmedicated on my antipsychotic but fear I’ll have an episode of some sort or another if I lower my dosage. If I had a hypomanic episode right now i would be SO FUCKED! And even though I need to get off lithium to save my poor kidneys, that 300mg might be keeping me stable. As far as the klonopin goes I am kind of in a shitty place. She wants me off it. She won’t prescribe any more until we meet in person. All I have are the refills Misty gave me. They’ll last a while with my rationing but the question is when will we actually meet in person. If things continue to go south it could be months before we meet and I CANNOT just go off a benzodiazepine. That is dangerous and life threatening. So yet another source of anxiety. My mood—in terms of hypomania and depression—has been very stable. My sleep is good and consistent. My mood is fairly even. She seems to think I’m doing pretty well in terms of anxiety. I’m not huddled in a ball in bed, unable to do anything productive. I agree with that. But my anxiety has definitely become more of a generalized anxiety situation, rather than the panic disorder I’ve been diagnosed with. I have had few panic attacks since COVID, but my anxiety is pervasive and definitely problematic. My therapist also thinks I’m managing my anxiety pretty well and keeps telling me I don’t give myself enough credit for the strides I’m making. I can see that, but believing it is much more difficult. I’ve basically stopped eating because of my anxiety. I eat dinner but that’s all. I’ve lost at least 15lbs maybe more (our scale blows). I just can’t eat. It makes me sick just thinking about eating. I know this is not healthy, contributes to my low energy and tiredness (effects of my antipsychotic), and is just a bad idea when all I have is a stomach full of meds. I kind of feel like I’ve developed an eating disorder on top of everything else. In terms of my sobriety I’m doing well. I hardly think about drinking with everything else going on. I had one incident when Mark and I got into an argument and I got in the car threatening to go to Wine Source. But that was unusual. I’m feeling strong on this front. I’m not in danger of relapse. This current situation seems 100x harder than rehab. I’m doing fine without my continuing care group. I still have all the support I need from friends and family. The major positive that’s come out of all this is having Mark home with me for 19 weeks. When he is commuting we spend a few hours together every day. We’ve had a couple blowouts but reconciled with things back to normal rather quickly. What can you expect when you’re trapped in the house with each other for almost 5 months. I adore Mark and I want him home forever!! It’s been such an amazing way to bond—to reinforce our love for one another. I can’t imagine my world without him in it. I JUST CAN’T. We have had some socially distant hangouts and that has helped IMMENSELY!!! We’ve seen my parents 4 times-and on the last visit I finally gave them hugs! I finally felt safe enough to do so (they wore their masks) and it was soooo good!! We’ve also had 4 friends over. Including one of my best friends/acupuncturist who gave me a treatment in my living room! So awesome!!! These hangouts give me LIFE!!! Things are simultaneously so weird and normal. It’s a good thing to have human contact!!! I’m hanging in. I’m on media blackout. Have been since this all started. Mark fills me in on the important things I need to know. Media coverage/articles are too much for me. Anxiety through the roof. I know things are SO BAD and I have made them worse in my mind so what’s the point. Not to bury my head in the sand but I’ve got to do what I need to do to preserve my sanity. Reaching out to friends and family, even a quick text, really helps. Just to make contact and make sure everyone is ok. I talk to my mom & dad several times a day. Mark. Mom. Dad. My friends. My rocks. Keep them close even though they’re far. ❤️ So overall I am making it happen. I see my strength, my resolve. I’m pressing on day by day. I am doing the best I fucking can and that’s all I can fucking ask of myself.

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thegrowingwordsmith · 5 years

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Just a Little Courage

Something I wrote for this week’s @mandatoryfunday

I may make some changes before I post this to AO3.

——————————

Bucky scrutinized his reflection and reached to fidget with his tie for the fifth or sixth time in as many minutes. Taking a deep breath, he stared without really seeing and mentally repeated the words that were so hard for him to believe.

You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy.

No matter how many times he thought the simple statement, his stomach would not settle down. Logically, Bucky knew that after more than half a century with Hydra it would take more time and effort to develop his self-worth. But he just wanted to feel normal; to be happy and not constantly worried that it would all disappear because everyone believed the negative voice in his head.

Bucky heaved a deep sigh as he turned from the mirror. He knew he looked the best he could; better than he usually did for date night. He knew the place they always went was pretty upscale but he usually just went with slacks and a button-up. Their monthly date night was something he always looked forward to; a nice dinner and a walk in the park on the way back to their apartment.

But tonight was even more special. As thought about it again his nerves came back with a vengeance. He wandered into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and filled it with some whiskey.

Just a little courage.

Taking a sip, he walked back to the mirror to once again check his appearance.

He sat heavily on the lid of the toilet and stared down at the amber liquid swirling in his glass. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket to pull out the small silver ring. Staring at the little circle, it was hard to believe that this was the cause of all his turmoil tonight.

He downed the rest of the drink and felt it burn down his throat before settling warm in his stomach. Just a little courage. After placing the empty glass on the counter, Bucky sat another minute just breathing deeply. His therapist had told him to focus on the good things. Clint’s face immediately flashed through his mind. Clint was the best thing right now, his smile and sarcasm, even just the sound of his voice was enough to bring Bucky out of a bad mood.

After two years of knowing the man and a little over a year of dating, Bucky knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with that beautiful, amazing disaster. A man that was a gift to his life, a gift he didn’t always feel he deserves. After all the terrible he has done in this world should he really be allowed the blessing of an amazing man for the rest of his life?

Just then the star of his thoughts stumbled into their apartment all decked out in a deep purple three piece suit. Bucky looked over at the sudden noise and heard Clint muttering an expletive with a harried look on his face. As Clint twisted around in an attempt to find the reason for his difficulty moving further into the room (the pocket of his jacket was caught on the knob), his elbow slammed into the hard edge of the door. Bucky felt a swell of love causing him to smile to himself.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Nat wouldn’t let me leave her place until my outfit was ‘perfect’. Even though I told her it would probably just get messed up on my way back here.”

Quickly tucking the ring back into his pocket, Bucky walked out to meet the other man. He pecked Clint’s lips and easily unhooked him from the door. Bucky pulled them further into the apartment, letting his eyes scan over the archer.

“Natasha did a great job, I bet this is going to be our best date night yet. I just finished getting ready, let’s go.”

They made their way to the small, intimate, and fancy restaurant where they had standing reservations once a month. It was a nice place that wasn’t too far from their apartment and they could count on the discretion of the wait staff so they weren’t mobbed every time they wanted to have a nice night.

Bucky had insisted they begin the monthly outing about a year ago. He wanted to make sure Clint felt loved and appreciated. Plus the routine of it all reminded Bucky of normal times. They could pretend that they weren’t superheroes for a night, that they didn’t have crazy people always trying to kill them. They could take a few hours and just be normal.

He knew Clint wasn’t a huge fan of the dressing up part. Most date nights he would just throw on a decent pair of jeans and a clean shirt. Bucky didn’t care, he just loved spending time with the other man. That didn’t change the fact that he looked amazing in the suit Natasha had forced him into, and Bucky would never stop appreciating that sight.

Unfortunately, it appeared that the waiter was new. When he first walked up to the table he recognized Clint and stood for a few seconds gaping at the two men. After he finally recovered himself and took their drink order, his eyes landed on Bucky’s gleaming metal hand. He visibly gulped as the color drained from his face.

See he knows you’re a monster.

Bucky pushed the negative voice away and focused on Clint. The other man was beaming at him and animatedly recounting his day with Natasha. This amazing man loved him and he deserved to be happy.

The rest of dinner passed without incident. As dessert inches closer Bucky’s nervous energy grows. He planned to pop the questions once they had finished their customary creme brûlée. However, with his growing nerves Bucky didn’t notice how tightly he was gripping his wine glass. When the, thankfully empty, glass shattered under the pressure of his metal hand a couple members of the waitstaff rushed over. As he apologized profusely, he noticed that they all looked terrified and none of them would meet his eyes.

They all see it, they all know the monster you really are. No matter how much you deny it, you can not hide from your true nature.

Bucky sank in his seat while they waited for the check to be brought out. Once he had signed the receipt he wasted no time getting up and exiting the restaurant with Clint following.

As they stroll into the park Bucky starts fidgeting, he hasn’t said anything since they left their table at the restaurant. While on the outside he may appear vaguely stoic, he is warring with himself on the inside.

You deserve to be happy.

Do you? You have destroyed and ended so many lives. Why should yours be good?

You deserve to be happy. The things you did were not your fault.

But does Clint deserve it? Does he deserve to be stuck with a monster like you forever?

You are not a monster. The men who controlled you were monsters. You are not that same person anymore. You deserve to be happy!

Before the negative side of Bucky’s mind could reply Clint bumped his shoulder. When Bucky looked up he saw in Clint’s expression that he had missed something. Clint was obviously waiting for a response to the last thing he said.

“Sorry, doll, what?”

“I said, you’re being really quiet tonight and you seem upset. What’s on your mind?” Clint repeated as his eyes softened.

“No, nothin’s wrong!” Bucky hesitated, “But… I mean, I have been thinking about somethin’ quite a bit. It’s just…”

“What is it Buck? C’mon you know you can tell me anything.” Clint encouraged as he pulled them over to a bench.

That’s not true! Once he realizes what a monster you are he’ll leave! Bucky shook his head to chase away the voice. “It’s just… why are you with me?”

“What are you talking about? I love you! You have the best sense of humor. You are constantly doing everything you can to make everyone else’s life easier. You learned sign language when you first came to the tower even though you had plenty of other things to get used to ‘cause you noticed I forget my aids way to much. You’re kind and caring but also a huge troll that I can always goof around with.”

Bucky felt the blush start on his ears and spread down his neck. He spluttered a little, “Bu- but I am responsible for so many awful things, I’m a killer.”

Clint gathered Bucky’s hands and pulled him a little closer. “You are not! You have had some terrible things happen to you, but you are a good man. I love you, I consider myself lucky that I get to be with and I would happily spend the rest of my life with you.”

Bucky yanked his head up to stare wide-eyed at Clint. “Wh- wh- what did you say?”

Clint froze. He felt his stomach drop, staring into Bucky’s eye it felt as though time stopped. After a long time, that was probably only a second or two, Clint started to pull his hands away, muttering, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to push you into anything.”

“No no no!” Bucky nearly shouted as he grabbed for Clint’s hands again. “It’s just-“ Just a little courage. Bucky fished around in his pocket and pulled out the ring and held it out to the other man wordlessly.

#winterhawk #marriage proposal #clint barton #bucky barnes #bucky-centric #low self-esteem #reassurances #TW: alcohol #mandatory funday #This is my first fic in this fandom #I love feedback

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

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Survey #248

“i was unprepared for fame, then everybody knew my name.”

Are you more positive or a debbie downer? I don't think I'm either, honestly. I'm realistic. How many meals do you eat a day? Since getting a calorie & macro counting app, I try to aim for three, but sometimes I only manage two. I have to be conscious of how I'm spacing out what I eat. If you could have any talent in the world what would it be? Be realistic. Draw exactly what I see in my head. Do you brush your tongue with your tooth brush? Bitch you better brush your goddamn tongue. I didn't know until I saw this as a survey question a while back that there were people who didn't. How many times do you brush your teeth a day honestly? Once. What are you favorite type of jeans? I don't wear jeans anymore, but aesthetically, dark, skinny, torn jeans. Do you pop your bones, crack your knuckles? NO it disgusts me omg. There's this girl who sits in front of me in Women Writers class who cracks her back ALL the time and I have to fight cringing so, so hard. Do you eat your nails? YO NO. I may peel my nails when they get long (to me, anyway) but who the fuck eats their nails. Do you eat the ice in your drink? If it's that good cronchy type, fuck yeah. What do you order at Chic-Fil-A? I used to just get the classic sandwich and fries, but I stopped going there forever ago due to their connection to anti-LGBTQ organizations. By now I can't even stomach the thought of eating something from there. Damn are their sandwiches good, but I'm not giving them business. If you had to go to Mcdonalds what do you order? "Had to" lmao. I have no problem with McDonald's, honestly; you couldn't make me go, because I'd be quite willing. I love their cheeseburgers and, of course, their fries. But because I'm a fatass I have to at least get a double cheeseburger. Have you ever been addicted to cigarettes? No. Which do you use more? Facebook or Instagram? Facebook. Are you a student? If so, what classes will you take next? Yes. "Next," I don't know, considering I haven't chosen classes for next year. Currently I take Painting, Women Writers, Psychology, and Biology. Are you a good kisser? I don't know? How many real bf/gf have you had? Two. Did you enjoy your past relationships? Sure, save for the one with Tyler. That was pointless as shit. Would you ever get back with your ex? Sara, if certain conditions were right. Jason, I honestly don't know and hope I'm never put into the position to need to decide. Other exes, no. Do you like 80’s music? Rock and metal, absolutely. It was a great decade for the genres. Name a comedy that you like. Rush Hour 2 popped to mind first because we mentioned it in school yesterday. Do you like homework? ??????????? WHAT IS THIS QUESTION???????????????? NO??????????????? Something you want to buy real bad? Ugggghhhhh a lot. Being unemployed is a BLAST!!!!!!!!!! Something you would buy a friend as a gift? It depends on the person, of course. I try really hard to give very personal gifts, so what it would be would greatly vary. What is something that would be a good birthday gift for you? Donate Big Bucks to my tattoo fund and I'll give you smooches. Something you would gift yourself? Still tattoos lmfao. Favorite candle scent? Cinnamon rolls mmmmmmmmm. Do you watch beauty videos on YouTube? So here's the tea I genuinely love Jeffree Star and I'm digging NikkieTutorials lately LOOK idk I guess because I find makeup to be an art, I like watching that stuff. My YouTube interests have become seriously diverse lately. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Ha ha obviously. What is the best thing about life? Man, that's a loaded question. I suppose having people in it that make it worthwhile and a true privilege to simply be here. What do you think will happen when you die? YO, HONESTLY, I don't know, man. I've even questioned reincarnation lately. I 100% believe we are not hollow bodies meant to just decay after death, but creatures with spirits that live on in SOME form or way afterwards. I don't believe in the concept of a "Hell," but I don't really think I accept there being a true "Heaven," either? I think there's just... something. What, I don't know, but guess I'll figure it out at some point. Are you superstitious? No. What kind of surveys do you like the most? Random ones, especially the ones that make you think. Do you go to church? No. Do you like Christian music? No. I get frustrated from just bad memories/associations. Have you ever skateboarded and failed at it? Never really tried. What show/concert have you went to that you didn’t like much? N/A Is sex a must in your life? Nah. Could you wait until marriage for sex? Lol I was the abstinent one years ago, so obviously I could, because I understand it. What do you think about weed? Medically, it's fantastic. Too much evidence of it being so to argue it anymore. For other use, I feel the same way about it as I do cigarettes: bad idea, but whatever. I personally don't care if it's made legal for recreational use or not, so long as it's treated similarly to alcohol, ex. illegal to drive while high. If you found a baby turtle on the side of the road, would you pick it up and keep it? With it being a baby, I'd probably take it to an animal rescue or something. Did you and your mum ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? I stayed at Dad's for a handful of days. Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Yes. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? My sister has my initial, anyway. Who did you last see shirtless? My mom. Do you like to make the first move? NONONONONO I'M SHY. Do you think you will ever be married? Probably. If the last person you kissed saw you kissing someone else, would they be mad? I don't think she'd be mad, no. Do you understand football? Nope. Who last called you beautiful? Probably Mom. If you fell pregnant to the last person you kissed, what would you think? We're both female so like- Do you think the body is the most beautiful thing that was ever made? No. Name five things you did today? Stayed at the hospital for my beautiful niece to be born :'), slept far too little after getting home, and that's... kinda it. What kind of phone do you have? It's literally a Tracfone, BUT WAIT! I actually wanted it, ha ha. Mom has one and it is *genuinely* a good phone, so I got one for my birthday. Hell, it's cheaper than paying monthly, so I'm fine with it. When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? 5 in the morning when we were all still with Ashley. Do you like fire? Sure, I like watching it. Have you ever been to a spa? Noooo, not my jam. Do you know how to do a cartwheel? No. Who’s the funniest drunk person you know? Ehhhhh. When he drank, my dad was either hilarious when drunk or hateful and short-fused as fuck. 50/50 shot. But yeah, if you got Version 1, he'd crack anyone the hell up. Now that he's sober and happy he's always like that. What would you do if your partner still kept pictures of their ex? Well, I'd say it depends on the picture's context. Like, a picture of you two kissing, then I'd be uncomfortable as shit. If you have prom pictures or stuff like that but don't like go looking through them regularly, idc. It was a special event. What if your partner went through your cellphone? BYE, CUNT. What if your partner was flirting with another girl/boy? BYE, CUNT. Is there really a difference between Coke and Pepsi? YES. I can absolutely taste it. Pepsi sucks. Are there any mistakes with your recent ex you wish you could have changed? Stupid and/or impulsive shit I'd said, sure, but for the most part, no. We had a good relationship. Has anyone ever been with you while you were throwing up? My mom always is if she's present. I am terrified of vomiting and even at my age still want her there, even though she can't do anything, obviously. I turn into a baby when I'm about to throw up. Background on your computer? My favorite picture of Teddy. Who has hurt you the most? Jason. Or hell, my own head, idk. Are you happy with where you are relationship-wise now? Sure. What language do you want to learn? I wanna be fluent in German. Who’s the last person that came to your house? A family friend. Is there anyone you would like to fight? God no. I'm not a fighter. Who did you dance with last? Sara. Who is your best friend(s)? Sara. Song playing? "It's A Raid" by Ozzy feat. Post Malone. The album's out T O D A Y , B O Y S. Who is your arch-enemy? I don't have one. What's the most attractive thing on the opposite sex? GODDAMN shoulderBLADES Do you want platinum or gold for your wedding band? Not normal gold, I know. Rose gold is my ideal one, but I really don't care much. Have you ever paid to have your eyebrows waxed? I mean my mom has, seeing as I didn't have an income then, either. Got that done regularly in high school. Not because I asked, but because it was just "normal" since my two sisters did it, too. Do you think that the tobacco companies should pay for people’s medical bills? No, it's not their choice to use the product. Sure, they're making it, but it's really too late to cease production of tobacco. It'd be catastrophic in terms of the job industry. Do you curse in average conversations? Yes; I have to actually make an effort to not curse if needed. Have you ever bought a shot glass? No. Do you have a therapist? Not anymore after my previous one that I loved and trusted gave me every reason to break her jaw. I kind of want another one, but also don't. I'm supposed to, considering my history and that I'm on a lot of medication, but I just do nooooot want to go through the whole trust process again. Do you ever fall for spam mail? No. What color do you wear the most? Black. Do you only eat cough drops because you like the taste? No. Have your parents ever walked in on you having sex? No. Do you like getting stoned? I've never been so and aren't interested in ever getting there. Have you ever gotten a bloody nose from snorting cocaine? YOIKES THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY lol no, I wouldn't touch coke with a ten-foot pole. Red, white, yellow, or pink roses? Pink. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. She hasn't called me anything too awful that I know of. Have you ever done acid? No. Were you at a rave? Never been, definitely not my scene. Do you post pictures where you look good but your friends look bad? Well, I don't hang out with like... anyone, so, lmao. But I wouldn't. Are you friends with any of your exes? Yes. Would you ever dye your hair pink? ACTUALLY! Pastel pink is on my list. I tested some soft colors out in Photoshop on me and it actually looked really cute. I think I wanna be a smaller size first, though. Do you ever masturbate? I haven't since I came off that godawful birth control that drove me batshit insane in terms of libido. I still don't think it's a bad thing, my interest in that is just, gone. Are you embarrassed about your sex life or lack there of? No. Who’s the last person you said I love you to? My sister. Did you like your life when you were in middle school? Actually fuck middle school with a maul. If you went on American Idol, do you think you’d go through to Hollywood? Nope. Have you ever received an anonymous gift? No, I don't think so. What kind of laugh do you have? A loud and obnoxious one. Do you hoard anything? "Hoard" isn't the right word, no. Are you afraid of flying? I am, but I feel it's only a realistic apprehension. Especially going back and forth to Sara's a few times, you kinda have to get used to it. Most recent Facebook ‘like’? Shit man idk, I "like" a load of stuff. Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day? No. Do you do anything regularly that could damage your body? Can someone please eliminate soda from the face of the earth???? What do you love most in the world? Those closest to me. What woke you up this morning? Ugh, the sun. I need to put my curtain back up after Roman tore it down. Who was the last person you rode in a car with? My mom. Is anything bothering you? There's always *something* bothering me to some degree, but nothing seriously at the moment. Are you in a good mood? My niece was born overnight and is gorgeous and healthy so I have to be. :') When were you the saddest in your life? 2016. Do you own more than one cell phone? Ha ha, I have two old ones. One I used for pictures because the camera was good, and the most recent old one, I just need to get some pictures and contacts from... but I'm lazy. Have you ever had a song written about you? No. What songs make you happy? Depends on what I'm feeling. Next concert? No clue now that Ozzy had to cancel his, bless his old heart. As a child, did you ever get the chance to go to Disney World/Disneyland? Yes. When was the last time you fought with your significant other, if any? I’m single. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? No, thankfully. When was the last time you were on a boat? Where did you travel on it? Not since I went fishing with my old best friend a few years back. We were just in a pond. Are you planning on going anywhere with someone, some time today? Probably not. Do you like cereal? What would you consider your favorite kind of cereal? Hell yeah. Cinnamon Toast Crunch is *maybe* my favorite? Idk, I like a lot. Are there any people you don’t like for your significant other/crush to talk to? This doesn't apply to me, but even if I had one, they're not my damn child. I'm not gonna police whom they talk to. I mean I guess there are exceptions, like, talking to a drug dealer to name one, but talking to most people, that's their business. Just don't hide it from me. Have you ever forgotten your birthday? Did you soon figure it out? No. What color are the curtains in your room if you have any at the moment? Maroon. Is there anyone you are currently trying to get out of trouble? Why? No. Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? Well, calling back to that other question, there was one in a previous relationship that I really couldn't stand, but it wound up working out. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? It's just me and Ma now. Do you ever go to Blockbuster? How frequently would you say you go? WHAT A CALLBACK!!!!! Omg did I love BB. Went like every weekend to rent a game, and sometimes we'd go there Fridays before a sleepover to grab a movie. Do you ever listen to music so you can actually change your emotion? Sure, sometimes.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

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thatsdemko · 5 years

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☆Therapy ☆-J.Norris

CHAPTER TWO

A/N: if you ever miss a chapter and can’t find it under my blog I’m going to use the hashtag “thatsdemkotjn” (at least for me I hate when I start reading a series and can’t find the next chapter and have to scroll through someone’s blog for hours on end so this just makes it easier) hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Josh barely even wanted to roll out of bed when he heard his alarm that Tuesday morning. The only thing that made him have to absolutely get up is when his mother came in his bedroom demanding him to sit up so she could help him get dressed. He laid there for another moment before he heard the door open and his mother flicked on his lights, “you can’t be late today your partner will be upset.” She said opening up how drawers as josh sat up with a sigh, “I don’t get why I couldn’t have gone to a normal therapy?” He asked, it wasn’t like he didn’t like Megan, but it was that he was not keen on the idea of having to have someone else witness him nearly cry in pain.

“Honey, do you want to play hockey again?” His mother ask completely ignoring her sons statement as he sighed while she threw the shirt over his head and he was able to get his free arm in and carefully get his other arm in making a face in pain. “Yeah I do, but—“

“No more excuses. we are leaving in twenty minutes go eat breakfast, please.”

—

“Megsies! Megsies! Look!” Her little sister cheered as Megan watched her do a backbend while she ate breakfast, “very nice, lils.” She smiled as her little sister did one more before her mother told her to go upstairs and get ready for school. “Are you ready for therapy?” She asked her daughter, ever since Megan was told she’d have to live off campus for a bit the colors were nearly sucked out of her and her mother watched her countless of weeks fall into a bit of a depressed stage, and it didn’t help that the doctor told her she may never play the way she did before.

“As ready as I can be.” Megan sighed deciding she had enough cereal as her mother pressed a kiss on her daughters cheek before taking the bowl from her, “just be the positive girl I know, okay? It’s been hard not seeing that from you.” Her mother said rinsing out her bowl. Her parents usually rode off of Megan’s spirit and calmness, but ever since she got hit with the news of an injury she just wasn’t the same, and they all understood that. That night while she was in the hospital her parents had gone home to tell everyone what had happened, her brother from out of state even came to visit her which he never did anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered seeing her dad come down the stairs with a big smile on his face, “ready, megs?” He asked clapping his hands and she sighed grabbing her phone getting up from the table, “be careful, sweetie.” Her mother said as Megan just walked out the house not even saying a word. It broke her mother’s heart usually Megan was full of words, but the words seemed to have left when everything happened.

—

“Are you both ready?!” Josh and Megan’s therapist cheered as they made their way into the room together and josh kept constantly checking his watch like as if a good amount of time was going to pass since their walk from the waiting room to the therapy room would change.

“Come on, all the others were very excited to get moving? What’s up with you two?” The doctor asked as they both stood there silent together and the doctors smile became a softer one moving closer to the two, “you better prove to me that I didn’t make a mistake putting you both together, alright?” He asked and they nodded their heads as one of the ladies took them both instructing to sit down together, “I’ve never wanted to leave more in my life.” Josh mumbled as Megan nodded her head in agreement, “lecture hall is better than this.” She said and he laughed, “I would agree and I barely show.” He smiled at her and she gave him one back.

The therapist explained to them what they would be doing and the way they would know if they could move on is the level of discomfort, “I would like to know how high you both can lift your arm up without feeling any pain.” She said pointing to josh first as he lifted his arm as it seemed to barely leave where it was originally positioned, “and that’s as high as you can go without pain?” She asked and he nodded his head before putting his arm down and Megan did almost the same amount lowering it once she felt the pain.

“So josh you’re going to go do some evaluations, and I’ll work with Megan and then you both will flip.” She cheered and josh got up, “have fun,” Megan said and josh scoffed cracking a smile to her as he left the room following another therapist as Megan sat there waiting to be instructed to do something.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” She asked picking her head up from the clipboard and Megan didn’t really know what to say. Sure, she thought he was cute until he decided to get cocky and all her small crush feelings seemed to go away because of the way he acted. But if he never opened his mouth in that way, Megan would agree.

“I guess,” Megan said as she set the clipboard now laying Megan down, “how did you get hurt?” She asked starting to massage around the stitched area as Megan sighed closing her eyes.

“I’ve got double!” Megan shouted running down the field double teaming with another teammate trying to block out the other teams player from getting into their defensive end as the ball fell out of the girls pocket and Megan dug to pick it up sprinting towards goal as a girl went to stick check as Megan moved her stick out of the way and the girl wacked her shoulder causing Megan to lose control of the ball as she went to dig for it again and got shoved out of the way bouncing on her shoulder funny hearing a noise she wished she never heard as her shoulder then locked.

“Lacrosse, I lost control of the ball got shoved and fell funny.” Megan summed up the story opening her eyes now feeling as she was done and Megan sat up again as josh came in, “everything will go back to as normal as it should. I promise.”

—

Josh arrived on campus that afternoon getting the okay to be on his own, but still have his mother be on campus three times a week when needed and Megan got the same grant.

“You’re home!” Quinn cheered as josh walked in the dorm with his mother as Quinn rushed to hold open the door so josh’s mother could walk in with all of josh’s clothes and such, “yeah I get to be back on campus.” He smiled as Quinn went to help josh’s mother sort his clothes in his room. Josh hadn’t been in the dorm since before he left for world juniors, and he was delighted to be back and away from his family.

“Alright, Josh, everything is in there if you need me you call me, okay?” His mother gave him a sincere look and he nodded his head understanding the importance of his mother’s presence to help him get better, “I will if I need to.” He flashed a smile as she nodded her head saying her goodbye to Quinn as she walked out the door.

“So what’s been up with you?” Quinn asked as they walked into their living room and josh sat down on one end of the couch as Quinn sat on the other, “just therapy like three times a week, what about you?”

“Not much practice has been kind of boring without you, we leave for New York in a few weeks. Are you coming?” He asked, josh knew the boys were heading to New York and he was excited for the trip when he could play, but now since he couldn’t and his schedule was filled with therapy almost everyday he couldn’t.

“I can’t, I wish, but I can’t.”

Quinn frowned, “that’s okay, man, just wish for you to get better that’s all.”

On the other end of campus Megan was settling back in with her teammate, Jenna.

“There’s been so much drama on the team lately about who is going to fill your shoes in for middie, plus everyone is freaking out about the upcoming date dance the lax boys are having, are you going?” Jenna rambled on as Megan laid down in her bed, it wasn’t like she was gone for long, but so much had happened in the matter of time of her departure to now her arrival.

“I didn’t know there was a date dance, I don’t even have a date? When is it?” Megan sighed pulling out her phone going to check her calendar as Jenna got up off her bed looking at her monthly calendar filled with dates with her boyfriend, games, parties, etc. “this Saturday.” She turned to Megan and she saw the day was available with a smile she put it in, “okay, I’ll be there I just don’t have a date.”

Jenna shook her head, “you’re a pretty girl just go into your premed class and ask all the guys, whoever says yes you take.”

Megan rolled her eyes laying down carefully, “I don’t know, I might not go I’ll just go home that day.” She said with a slight change of voice almost unwanted. Megan loved being home, but hated being stuck at home because her mother was too cautious that Megan could slip on grass or something.

“Ew you’ve been home for like two weeks! Have some freedom from your parents! You’ll be my second date because I’m taking my boyfriend, but you’re coming with me and we are going to get drunk and have fun because ever since your little injury you’ve not wanted to do that! So we are going to!” Jenna demanded as Megan sighed. Jenna was also as high spirit as Megan and that’s why they got along so well, the minute they met each other they clicked and ever since then they have been inseparable.

“Okay, only to have drinks not to be some extra.” She jokingly rolled her eyes as Jenna sat down on Megan’s bed, “have you met any cute guys at therapy? Some doctors are so fine, megs, I’m telling you.”

“No I haven’t, but I met Josh Norris.” Megan said seeing Jenna’s eyes widen and she squealed clapping her hands practically jumping on Megan’s bed while still sitting there, “oh my god, that’s even better than meeting a doctor! He’s so cute, megs, if I wasn’t in a relationship I would hop on that body of his! Have you seen his body?!” Jenna gushed pulling out her phone going right to josh’s Instagram to find a picture to show Megan.

“Jen, you said you’d jump on Will Lockwood’s body last week, has your boyfriend not been meeting your needs at all?” Megan asked jokingly with a fake scoff as Jenna shook her head zooming in on the photo of josh shirtless, “tell me you wouldn’t want that body?!” She giggled as Megan shook her head, sure he had a nice body and she wasn’t going to lie she did feel the gush, but nothing like Jenna did.

“It’s nice, but I wouldn’t jump on to him if I got the opportunity.” Megan said as Jenna paused from showing her another picture setting her phone down grabbing a hold of Megan’s shoulder that wasn’t in a sling, “Megan Jones, if Joshua Norris ever asks you out, friends or not, you say yes for me please because you have not had a boyfriend since your freshman year of high school according to your drunk self. Besides, you’ve been so lonely lately since this happened, please? I’m not asking you to take him to the party, but I’m asking if he ever asks you out just consider it? Maybe?” She asked getting off Megan’s bed now going onto hers and she nodded her head. She loved Jenna for always caring for her, when Megan had gotten injured before the ambulance arrived Jenna stayed with her trying to calm her down. She was somebody Megan always turned to in hard times, but this time she felt like pushing everyone away so she could do this herself.

“Jen, I love you for caring, but I can do this on my own.” She said trying to sound as determined as possible. Although it had been hard for her to try and do this, she had the support of her family, teammates, and coaches, but when life really struck her down for these past couple of weeks, Megan could’ve used someone to hold her to try and pull her together. She wasn’t asking for it to be a guy, but she was asking for someone that wasn’t her mother.

“You say that, but for some reason I don’t believe you.”

#hockey imagines #hockey #josh norris #j.norris #thatsdemkotjn #quinn hughes

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joyinpractice · 5 years

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Self-Care Tips for PA Students

Originally published September 18, 2016

[Photo of Harris Hall in the morning light. Built using terracotta and stone from the actual subway excavation process. A beautiful arch frames wooden doors.]

SELF-CARE PRACTICE #1: PRIORITIZE SLEEP!

One day, a PA-S buddy of mine walked into class nonchalantly, thinking they were on time and not knowing they were an hour late! They were so sleepy from studying to midnight at the library the night before, driving home, and then getting only a few hours of sleep that they couldn't accurately see the time.

Imagine if this was you and you made it to the exam on time, but you're so sleepy from studying the night before that you misread questions. You studied and you knew the right answer - why did you pick the wrong one? The culprit is sleepy brain.

7-8 Hours = 🔑

SELF-CARE PRACTICE #2: EATING HEALTHY!

Prepping my meals every week has been excellent.

Every Sunday, I get my week's groceries and I prep all of my lunches and dinners for the week. I have a 20-piece Pyrex set and dozens of small bell jars to keep everything sealed and organized in the fridge and I basically grab and go everyday.

A great thing about Harlem, especially around my school, is that there's probably a grocery store on every block. Amazing!

My weekly budget for food was $70 and it was an excellent life. But starting in October I'm going to move it down to $50. Monthly Total = $200-$280

Favorite dishes to make?

Tofu marinated with sesame oil, oyster sauce, soy sauce, and adobo

Oven-roasted brussel sprouts with ham, carmelized onions, BBQ sauce, and honey

SELF-CARE PRACTICE #3: EXERCISE!

Endorphins and firing up your nicotinic receptors = keeps your energy up and helps ground your mental health.

So far my practice has been:

Saturdays: Swim @ Gertrude Ederle Parks and Recreation Center ($25/Year = $2.10/Month)

Sundays & Wednesdays: Yoga @ Brahman Yoga ($5-9/Session)

Monthly Total = $60

The Brahman Yoga studio is absolutely beautiful and reminds me of my mom's house with all the light and arches. And the Gertrude Ederle center is a NYC Parks and Rec center near Columbus Circle/Central Park so it has luxury facilities.

SELF-CARE PRACTICE #4: TIME FOR REFLECTION + TALK TO NON-PA PEOPLE

PA school is moving fast and slow all at the same time. I'm studying every single day. I'm in the same classroom everyday. I see the same people everyday. It's less like school and more like work, but you don't get the benefit of working together for a common cause. My classmates and I have a common cause in that we all want to pass and be practicing PA-Cs, but we're not doing work for a specific/common community right now. And that's weird for me because I'm used to working for a community, which means I feel way out of my element.

So reflection - journaling, drawing, writing, this blog - has been very grounding and prevents me from getting too insecure about the pace, the material, my cohort, etc. It also helps me transition from one week to the next and keep track of great things that happened the week before. Medicine is all about life-long learning, so it constantly feels like I know nothing even though I'm learning all the time.

And it's nice to take a break and not talk about school or anatomy, so I love calling up/meeting up with folks outside of school. Now that I'm not working and going to school at the same time, I'll have more time for people :)

SELF-CARE PRACTICE #5: STUDY PRACTICES

Know when to study on your own and when to study in a group!

My study group is made of the most amazing, bad-ass, hilarious people. No joke - we even have dance breaks! Without them, I'd be super lost.

And sometimes I need to cover materials on my own and that's a-okay! Carve out the time for yourself and balance when you want to be extroverted v. introverted.

SELF-CARE PRACTICE #6: ASK FOR HELP!

Another buddy of mine in the program was frustrated the other day because they were still expected to do all of the household chores (laundry, cooking, dishes, cleaning, etc) despite being in school full-time. Equality in labor, y'all. The partners need to pitch in. Or the cousins, taskrabbit hires, neighbor next door, babysitter, etc. need to pitch in.

My roommate is awesome and when I'm not feeling good, she helps me finish up with my dishes and I do the same when I'm feeling fine! In my study group, we also split up questions and explain the answers to each other so it's dynamic learning rather than rote memorization.

SELF-CARE PRACTICE #6: MAINTAINING GOOD COMMUNICATION!

Miscommunication - with family, friends, PA classmates, PA school staff and faculty, other students - is so easy and can lead to so much drama and unnecessary frustration.

SELF-CARE PRACTICE #7: TAKE MEDS, SEEK CARE!

Whatever medications, therapists, or care you need - GO FOR IT.

#pablr #pa school

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hecallsmehischild · 6 years

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Mental Organization

Less a post to vent poison right now. More a post to untangle the ball of yarn and line the skeins up neatly in their compartments because right now it’s all one huge mishmash and I think it’s keeping me from what they call “executive function.”

Projects that I have a handle on but that I keep having to stop because I can’t make myself create something quality if my feelings are snarled

Illustrating a children’s story my friend wrote, called How To Be Good. I’m so happy with this. I’m no pro illustrator but my skills have grown a lot since I illustrated the other story (Purple is for Playtime). It’s so visually cheerful, it makes me happy to look at finished pages.

Hey Spacejerk. I love it so far but I’m apprehensive now. I’ve taken the device I was using to create this story and smashed it. How fast do I go now? I don’t really want to write a super long fanfiction. I don’t think I want this story to be longer than ten chapters more. But if I go too fast the audience will feel cheated.

Laughter Lines. I’m more sunk into the flow of this one, but constantly worried I’m going to screw up the device I’ve been laying dominoes for. It’s more complicated than my usual and, unlike previous fandoms where I could handwave these details, it will matter that everything is just right.

Elrohee. I just want to process things here. I want to be careful, too, because I don’t want it to get preachy. Ever. This series is not about being preachy and never was.

Wire trees. I created a larger wire tree recently and also a new kind of button tree that got me all excited. Then I started a tree with wire I didn’t like (because I was running out of colors) and I regret that. I don’t like the color combination. I’m staring at the half finished tree. I hate the waste, but I want to get back to being able to make trees. That half finished tree will stare me in the face forever if I don’t. So I’m standing up to throw it away now. No… No I’m not. The color combination isn’t hideous, just… not inspiring. If I add some really nice beads to it, it will perk up. I dont’ want to waste it.

Painting. Currently I have a half finished orange mask and a half finished wooden wiggly snake. Right now I have no inspiration to finish either, though I think maybe the orange mask might be flamey? Or sunny.

Crochet. I have two blankets in the works, one random-yarn blanket and one that has planned colors as a gift. They take up a lot of space.

Recording chapters of The Book of the Dun Cow aloud. This project is fun, though I do have to muster some will to make myself do it. Dramatic reading is kind of a joy, actually, especially with this book where I have all the voices down. I’m thinking of putting up the link to the whole playlist once the book is fully recorded.

Scrapbooking. I’m so happy. I have only a fraction of this project left to do, and then everything is nicely organized into binders.

And I get very angry and frustrated and kind of despair-y when I find I can’t move forward with these. It feels ridiculous because doing creative things HELPS me feel better, but I can’t do them when I feel bad??? What kind of Catch-22 is that???

Projects I am starting to get a handle on

Basic house cleaning. Or at least floors and bathrooms and countertops. Going to try and do a little bit every day that way it doesn’t become some weekly/monthly overwhelming chore I avoid like the plague.

House decorating. I’ve started getting into this and really liking it. I found a Texan-style wreath for the front door, placed 3 different house mats, and started tacking silk ivy around the kitchen windows. I’m actually kind of proud of myself about this.

Projects I am literally flailing through

Planning a wedding. Dear God, what am I doing? In the next two weeks I need to do the final ring purchase so that something has moved forward and finished. I also need to arrange the legal marriage so our paperwork is completed in the state of our residence and there aren’t any snarls with an out-of-state ceremony. That’s the goal for the next two weeks. Also how do you decorate??? (I ask, rhetorically. I’m looking through some stuff but I think I need to simplify my idea. Maybe instead of all four seasons, just winter/spring?)

Finding a therapist. The one I called isn’t responding. Don’t know how much leeway to give. If I haven’t heard back from her by Saturday night I’m going to try calling someone else. I need to move forward with getting approval for the surgery.

Krav Maga. I’m finally back and I’m doing well with jabs and punches, but anything that requires me to squat and rise multiple times is really hard. I’m very weak there, and while squatting my leg muscles just give out. I’ve looked up a beginner’s squatting routine that I’m going to TRY to enact because I really would love to stop humiliating myself in class. Been having panic issues before class (that stop once I’m in it, because there is NO ROOM in my being to have panic when I’m constantly moving) and would like that to stop. Prayed with my fiancée on the drive over and held his hand and that helped some.

Online Writing Course. Already panicked and frozen over a super vague writing prompt that doesn’t feel like enough explanation was provided. Afraid of being judged by peers. Afraid of critiquing peers because who am I to say this is good or bad? They are all in an Official Writing Course so they MUST know better than me, right? Even if it looks like they really don’t? Frozen.

Editing Best Served Cold. Froze again. Freaked out that I wasn’t a good enough writer to edit anything and froze. Freaking…

Patreon. This is a very on and off again thing. I don’t know how to self promote except through repetition which freaks me out. I don’t know how to save good things for “just the patrons” when I want to share it all. Don’t know if I should restructure all my tiers so there’s less tiers and less offerings? Very possible.

Etsy. Nobody really looks at the listings. I don’t blame them. I’m not a self promoter and I’m not a photographer. All my stuff looks better laid out on a table to sell but I don’t know where around here to do that so for now it just decorates the house. Maybe I should give up on Etsy again and just stick with my Facebook shop. People who use Etsy are serious about their business. This is a hobby I hope to sell a bit of and give the rest away.

Socially

Krav Maga class. I connected with at least one person who’s really sweet and nice. She’s more advanced than I am for sure but helps me feel a lot more at ease and I feel the need to apologize to her a lot less.

Small Group. My fiancée and I found a small group that’s an offshoot of the church we were trying. The church is a mega-church and we’re both still very wary of that. I felt very lost in a sea of people. But this group feels like a band of very real people, expressing doubts and pain while searching in the Bible together, eating pizza, and hanging out. Meets twice a month, plus one extra day that’s just girl’s night. I am looking forward to getting to know these people 3 Mondays a month.

D&D Shabbat night. Friday nights now we (light our brand new candles!) say the blessing, and eat a meal (now home cooked because ALL OUR KITCHEN IS FUNCTIONAL, WOOOOO), then retire to the great hall to play D&D. We are currently at 1 GM and 4 players, soon to be 5 players. We’re brand new so this will be glorious.

Health

BPV. Had a round of Benign Positional Vertigo for a few weeks. Finally cleared up. At least next time I’m suddenly dizzy out of nowhere I won’t think I’m dying.

Eating. Eating is weird lately. I’m walking this really fine line between getting obsessed with my weight and not caring. I have veered hard in the direction of aggressively “not caring” most of my life, partly because I was afraid of the eating disorders my friends suffered from. I’m doing pretty well with my eating, choosing my food carefully for one-main-meal-a-day-plus-light-snacks eating and trying to keep it all under 1400 cal. I don’t have a lot of impulse control when it comes to eating so I flat out can’t keep foods in the house “just for that one treat day” because that one treat day is TODAY no matter what I say to myself. Best I can do is limit my access to those foods (including turning down SOME opportunities to go out and eat). Impulse control gets worse with wonky emotions because I will eat ALL THE FEELS. Lately my main meal is (one can) tuna salad sandwich on onion roll, which is filling enough, then I eat plums and flavored rice cakes or salted-but-not-buttered-popcorn or pickles for the rest of the day. I picked up a few small soups which look good. Came to the realization recently that I really do need to stop thinking of this as something I do “Just until I get to goal weight.” In order to maintain the healthy weight I hope to achieve, I will still need to eat well. I don’t get to let loose just because I made it. So I have reluctantly begun adopting the idea that I need to do right by my eating habits as a permanent lifestyle change. I’d like to be around longer and in order to do so I need to take better care of myself than I have been. But I can feel obsession right on the edge of my consciousness and that’s a scary feeling. I’m trying not to fall into obsession or let it drive me off the other edge of extremes to not caring. Walking the tightrope carefully.

Sleep. Sleep is weird too. Some nights I wake up a lot, then I can get up in the morning easier. Some nights I zonk out straight through and then it’s super hard to get up in the morning. Still wish that I could not be so motion sensitive. I used to be Dusty-sleeps-like-a-rock and now I’m a light sleeper. All someone has to do is call my name and I jolt up.

Trich. Been obsessively tweezing a lot more. Gaps in every eyelid. Unhappy about this.

This Blog and Processing

I don’t always know what to do on here anymore. I post fanfiction, but the part of my life that I would normally process out loud... I can’t really do that now. It actually directly impacts someone this time. Feels like words are measured with a lot more care instead of just spilling out willy nilly and I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. I know that things knot up inside some more, but does that mean I just need to find a different not-so-public outlet for these things? It hasn’t really worked well so far.

Ever since the beginning of the year I have wondered to myself if I am too public with things and I’ve been a step more self conscious about it (yeah, weird to say on this complete textual vomit, right? But it’s been building for a really long time and I need this) since the end of last year. I let some words get under my skin that I shouldn’t have, but they’re hard to shake because I don’t know how much objective truth is in them.

Dealing with unfamiliar feelings that I want no part of. Anger isn’t unfamiliar, but it’s unwelcome. Boundaries book says anger is a good alarm bell, but I just… don’t want to. I don’t know where the line for “good anger” is and I don’t know how to do anger without setting every bridge around me on fire. Hatred is unfamiliar and even more unwelcome. It feels like tasty, warm poison. I want it, badly. I want it as a defense against past, current, and future pain. I want to rear up and yell “Not this time!” when I see patterns from my past repeating and I want icicles dripping from my words. But it’s deeply wrong. This isn’t what the God I serve taught, and I know hatred will poison me to the core of who I am. I get that those ideas have been hackneyed to death with pop catchphrases and whatnot, but I mean… that doesn’t make it any less true. And it’s going to be really ugly and messy and I don’t want to deal with it when being ice queen would be a hell of a lot easier. Still, I don’t know how NOT to hate at this moment, so when I’m aware I give God permission to change this in me because I can’t/don’t know how to change it myself right now.

Sometimes I wish I had more to say on the Dear Someone tag, but I know who Someone is and I tell him in person every day and it’s the most beautiful, wonderful part of my life right now.

I say a lot of negative stuff. Even if it’s true stuff, I tend to focus on processing negatives a lot. I want to figure out ways to process positive and good things. I think I’m afraid of sounding like I’m gloating or shoving good things in the face of people who are hurting. But. I also want to share the joyful things in my life. And be grateful for them publicly as I am privately. I want to rewire my brain so that the first thing that comes to mind is not what’s wrong, but what’s right. I don’t want to do this in a fakey way, that sort of front really bothers me, but there has to be some genuine way to express gratitude and joy on a more regular basis. Pain isn’t the only genuine thing there is.

I want to process publicly some of my Bible reading and I have done so, but every time I’m afraid I might be stepping on someone’s toes or making someone angry at me. I don’t want to start fights but I also want to share stuff. I don’t want to mislead people, but I want to explore.

I’m trying so hard to accept that I’m happy doing what I like, but when “doing what I like” gives out on me because I’m emotional I get so angry and upset and fearful and I wonder if I’m really okay with that at all. Or is it just my mental illness acting out, then? It’s hard to tell if that’s what’s clouding my thought process and dampening my will to act.

Misc

I feel bad that my To Do Today or Today’s Goals posts are not working for me as well as they were at the start. It feels like failure.

I feel grief and anger and uncertainty about my family situation, both immediate and extended. I still don’t know how to balance the fact that I’ve split off to start a new family (just me and my fiancée, not kids) and that this one is supposed to be my priority, while still loving the family I grew up in. Or what love looks like with distance. What I’ve been engaging in doesn’t look or feel like actual relationship.

I want to bake. I want to bake lots of sweets. Apple pies, I want to make applesauce and jam (not baking, I know), I want to make lembas bread and chocolate chip cookies and ALL OF THE THINGS.

My area is a freaking mess and I need to fix that by tomorrow. And also make Miso soup for 5.

Stressed about trying to keep all aforementioned balls in the air without melting down or losing track of any.

I think there’s more. But. I’m tired. And I need to go to bed. And this… I think this helps. I’ve shelved a lot of brain skeins tonight. Maybe I’ll be a little more productive tomorrow.

#rlchild #wrestling with God #lots of stuff #huge verbal dump #blergh

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gordonwilliamsweb · 3 years

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No Vacancy: How a Shortage of Mental Health Beds Keeps Kids Trapped Inside ERs

One evening in late March, a mom called 911. Her daughter, she said, was threatening to kill herself. EMTs arrived at the home north of Boston, helped calm the 13-year-old, and took her to an emergency room.

Melinda, like a growing number of children during the covid-19 pandemic, had become increasingly anxious and depressed as she spent more time away from in-person contact at school, church and her singing lessons.

KHN and NPR have agreed to use only the first names of this teenager and her mother, Pam, to avoid having this story trail the family online. Right now in Massachusetts and in many parts of the U.S. and the world, demand for mental health care overwhelms supply, creating bottlenecks like Melinda’s 17-day saga.

Emergency rooms are not typically places you check in for the night. If you break an arm, it gets set, and you leave. If you have a heart attack, you won’t wait long for a hospital bed. But sometimes if your brain is not well, and you end up in an ER, there’s a good chance you will get stuck there. Parents and advocates for kids’ mental health say that the ER can’t provide appropriate care and that the warehousing of kids in crisis can become an emergency itself.

What’s known as emergency room boarding of psychiatric patients has risen between 200% and 400% monthly in Massachusetts during the pandemic. The CDC says emergency room visits after suicide attempts among teen girls were up 51% earlier this year as compared with 2019. There are no current nationwide mental health boarding numbers.

“This is really unlike anything we’ve ever seen before, and it doesn’t show any signs of abating,” said Lisa Lambert, executive director of Parent/Professional Advocacy League, which pushes for more mental health care for children.

Melinda spent her first 10 days in a hospital lecture hall with a dozen other children, on gurneys, separated by curtains because the emergency room had run out of space. At one point, Melinda, who was overwhelmed, tried to escape, was restrained, injected with drugs to calm her and moved to a small, windowless room.

Day 12: Cameras Track Her Movements

I met Melinda in early April, on her 12th day in the ER. Doctors were keeping her there because they were concerned she would harm herself if she left. Many parents report spending weeks with their children in hospital hallways or overflow rooms, in various states of distress, because hospital psychiatric units are full. While demand is up, supply is down. Covid precautions turned double rooms into singles or psych units into covid units. While those precautions are beginning to ease, demand for beds is not.

Inside her small room, Melinda was disturbed by cameras that tracked her movement, and security guards in the hallways who were there, in part, for her safety.

“It’s kinda like prison,” she said. “It feels like I’m desperate for help.”

“Desperate” is a word both Melinda and Pam use often to describe the prolonged wait for care in a place that feels alien.

“We occasionally hear screaming, yelling, monitors beeping,” said Pam. “Even as the parent — it’s very scary.”

But this experience is not new. This was Melinda’s fourth trip to a hospital emergency room since late November. Pam said Melinda spiraled downward after a falling out with a close family member last summer. She has therapists, but some of them changed during the pandemic, the visits were virtual, and she hasn’t made good connections between crises.

“Each time, it’s the same routine,” Pam said. Melinda is rushed to an ER, where she waits. She’s admitted to a psych hospital for a week to 10 days and goes home. “It’s not enough time.”

Pam said each facility has suggested a different diagnosis and adjusted Melinda’s medication.

“We’ve never really gotten a good, true diagnosis as to what’s going on with her,” Pam said. “She’s out of control; she feels out of control in her own skin.”

Melinda waited six months for a neuropsychiatric exam to help clarify what she needs. She finally had the exam in May, after being discharged from the psychiatric hospital, but still doesn’t have the results. Some psychiatrists say observing a patient’s behavior is often a better way to reach a diagnosis.

Lambert, the mental health advocate, said there are delays for every type of psychiatric care — both residential and outpatient.

“We’ve heard of waits as long as five weeks or more for outpatient therapy,” Lambert said. “If your child is saying they don’t want to live or don’t want to ever get out of bed again, you don’t want to wait five weeks.”

Day 13: ‘The Longer She’s Here, the More She’s Going to Decline’

As her stay dragged on, Melinda bounced from manic highs to deep emotional lows. The emergency room is a holding area; it isn’t set up to offer treatment or psychiatric therapy.

On this day Melinda was agitated.

“I just really want to get out of here,” she said in an audio diary she was keeping at the time for this story. “I feel kind of helpless. I miss my pets and my bed and real food.” She’d had a panic attack the night before and had to be sedated. Her mom, Pam, wasn’t there.

“The longer she’s here, the more she’s going to decline,” Pam recorded in her own audio diary. “She has self-harmed three times since she’s been here.”

The hospital and its parent network, Beth Israel Lahey Health, declined requests to speak about Melinda’s care. But Dr. Nalan Ward, the network’s chief medical officer for behavioral health services, hosts a daily call to discuss the best place for inpatient psychiatric treatment for each patient. Some may have unique medical or insurance constraints, she said. Many insurers require prior approval before they’ll agree to pay for a placement, and that, too, can add delays.

“It takes a case-by-case approach,” said Ward. “It’s really hands-on.”

Day 14: Increasingly Isolated From School and Friends

For Melinda, the issue keeping her from moving out of the ER and into an effective treatment program could have been her behavior. Pam was told her daughter may be harder to place than children who don’t act out. Hospitals equipped to provide inpatient mental health care say they look for patients who will be a good fit for their programs and participants. Melinda’s chart included the attempted escape as well as some fights while she was housed in the lecture hall.

“She’s having behaviors because she has a mental illness, which they’re supposed to help her with,” Pam said, “but yet they’re saying no to her because she’s having behaviors.”

Secluding Melinda in the ER didn’t help, Pam said. “She’s, at times, unrecognizable to me. She just is so sure that she’s never going to get better.”

Melinda described feeling increasingly isolated. She lost touch with friends and most family members. She’d stopped doing schoolwork weeks earlier. The noise and commotion of a 24/7 ER was getting to Melinda.

“I’m not sleeping well,” she noted in her diary. “It’s tough here. I keep waking up in the middle of the night.”

Day 15: Mom Retreats to Her Car to Cry

Boarding is difficult for parents as well. Pam works two jobs, but she visited Melinda every day, bringing a change of clothes, a new book or something special to eat.

“Some days I sit and cry before I get out of the car, just to get it out of my system, so I don’t cry in front of her,” Pam said in her diary entry that day.

Some hospitals say they can’t afford to care for patients with acute mental health problems because insurance reimbursements don’t cover costs. Massachusetts is spending $40 million this year on financial incentives to create more inpatient psychiatric care. But emergency rooms are still flooded with psychiatric patients who are in limbo, boarding there.

Day 16: ‘I Wish Someone Would Just Understand Me’

“I never thought we’d be here this long,” said Pam.

At the nurses’ station, Pam was told it could be two more weeks before there would be an opening at an appropriate hospital.

In Massachusetts, Gov. Charlie Baker’s administration says it has a plan that will keep children out of ERs and reduce the need for inpatient care by providing more preventive and community-based services. Parents and providers say they are hopeful but question whether there are enough counselors and psychiatrists to staff proposed community clinics, therapy programs and more psychiatric hospital beds.

Meanwhile, in the ER, Melinda was growing listless.

“Life is really hard because things that should be easy for everyone are just hard for me,” she said. “When I ask for help, sometimes I picture going to the hospital. Other times I wish someone would just understand me.”

Then, in the late evening on Day 16, the family got word that Melinda’s wait would soon end.

Day 17: Limbo Ends and Real Treatment Begins

On Day 17, Melinda was taken by ambulance to a Boston-area hospital that had added child psychiatric beds during the pandemic. She was lucky to get a spot. The day she arrived, there were 50 to 60 children on the waiting list.

“That’s dramatically higher” than before the pandemic, said Dr. Linsey Koruthu, one of Melinda’s doctors and a pediatric psychiatrist at Cambridge Health Alliance. “About double what we would have seen in 2019.”

Doctors there adjusted Melinda’s medications. She met with a psychiatrist and social worker daily and had group therapy and time for schoolwork, yoga and pet therapy. Hospital staff members met with Melinda and her family. She stayed two weeks, a bit longer than the average stay.

Doctors recommended that Melinda move from inpatient care to a community-based residential treatment program — a bridge between being in the hospital and returning home. But those programs were full and had weeks-long delays. So, Melinda went straight home.

She now has three therapists helping her make the transition and use what she’s learned. And as covid restrictions have begun to ease, some sessions are in person — which Koruthu said should be more effective for Melinda.

Pam said the transition has been rough. Police came to the house once and suggested Melinda go to an ER, but she was able to calm down before it came to that. Melinda has developed an eating disorder.

The first available appointment with a specialist is in August. But, by mid-June, Melinda was able to graduate from middle school, after finishing a backlog of schoolwork.

“If you had asked me two months ago, I would have said I don’t think she’ll make it,” Pam said. “We’re getting there.”

If you or someone you know are in mental health crisis or may be considering suicide, contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 (en Español: 1-888-628-9454; for the deaf and hard of hearing: Dial 711 then 1-800-273-8255) or the Crisis Text Line by texting HOME to 741741.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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stephenmccull · 3 years