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jpegjade · 4 years

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Physical Therapy - Ch. 1 (Spencer)

WELCOME TO PHYSICAL THERAPY!! in honor of this bish starting physical therapy in real life (and missing it bc i can’t drive and my mom and i’s schedules not being synched on google calendar all the time) i’ve decided to write a fic about it. it will be a little series with a goal (yes, an end game) and it’ll be cute. some of it is based on actual things that happen and some is literally just the story. ENJOY.

gender: neutral

tw: nothing that i can think of

genre: fluff | angst

Description: After getting shot in the leg, spencer goes through physical therapy before he can get back in the field completely. What happens when he starts to fall for his physical therapy assistant?

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Two honks at 6am meant that it was time for Spencer to get going. Derek was downstairs, in the car, waiting on boy wonder to crutch his way out of the apartment complex. Derek wasn’t sure how to feel about this trip considering he missed his early morning run for this but he knew how nervous Spencer was for his evaluation today so he didn’t mind as much as he could have minded.

Spencer was patiently waiting in a pair of very short shorts, mismatched socks, and running shoes. He threw on a t-shirt and looked in the mirror, noting how tired he looked. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately for some reason but he couldn’t be sure why. He combed out his hair one more time before he and his crutches headed to the elevators.

“Ready, kid?” Derek said, opening the front door for Spencer like a world class chauffeur would if Spencer was a celebrity.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Spencer mumbled.

In truth, Spencer was more than ready to get started on his physical therapy journey. He wanted to get back in the field full time, adrenaline pumping, connecting with victims, walking again. He didn’t mind the assisted mobility but it was hard for him to know that the best he could do sometimes was stay back in the office or hang out in Garcia’s batcave.

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence between the two men. Derek was thinking about how he could make up his missed morning run by doing another type of high cardio workout while Spencer was just trying to figure out why it had to be him. He wouldn’t wish the frustration of his recovery process on anyone else on the team but the frustration of the recovery process just got to him on some days. Today was one of those days.

Derek pulled up to the physical therapy clinic sooner than Spencer hoped. Part of that was because Derek was a very fast driver while the other part was because Spencer wasn’t paying attention for most of the drive.

“You owe me one.” Derek said, completely joking. Well… Partially. That morning run was what kept him awake during the day, energizing him for work.

“Do you want to come in?” Spencer said, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Spencer’s hands were tapping his leg as he awaited Derek’s answer. He was nothing short of a nervous wreck on the inside. All he could think about was how much pain he would be in once the evaluation was over and the physical therapist had finished poking and prodding at his knee. He hated to think that it would be worse than everything else going on. Plus he still had to go to work today.

“Sure, kid.” Derek said.

Derek wasn’t going to sit in the car and do nothing the whole time so he might as well support his friend.

Climbing out of the car, the boys slowly made it to the sliding glass doors of the physical therapy clinic. Much to Spencer’s surprise, it was nothing like he originally imagined it to be. Some part of him thought it would somewhat resemble the clinic where his mother resided but it was completely different. There were floor to ceiling walls for over half of the first floor building. High tech equipment was stationed everywhere from anti gravity treadmills to hand bike motors, medicine balls and so much more. Spencer stood in the doorway, leaning on his crutches, while he took everything in. There was so much light in the air, it was almost like the feeling of recovery was airy and not meant to bog him down. This was a strange feeling for him to comprehend...

“You coming, pretty boy?” Derek called, taking a break from chatting with the pretty receptionist.

Spencer and his crutches walked over to the front desk and grabbed the paperwork that covered how much pain he was in today. He filled it out quickly, hoping to get everything over with sooner than later. He was already here so he might as well just finish everything quickly so he could get out of the place.

When he finished writing everything down, he returned the paperwork to the receptionist who slipped him a piece of paper and pointed to Derek. Spencer already knew it was the receptionist’s personal phone number and he didn’t even need to look at the paper. Sitting down, Spencer handed Derek to a very confused Derek before it hit him what it was. Derek winked at the receptionist, who blushed before answering the phone.

“Spencer?” A voice called his name shortly after he sat down.

It was nice to know that here, he didn’t have to be a doctor. He was just another person healing. He didn’t have to be smart, he could just exist.

“Good luck.” Derek said, noticing that Spencer’s hand was shaking in the slightest bit.

“My name is Nora and I will be your lead physical therapist.” The woman said, walking Spencer to a vacant padded table. It reminded Spencer of the types of tables you lay on when you get a massage.

He only got a massage once when Garcia got stood up on a couples’ massage date. He spent half of his part of the massage giving the masseuse facts about how their job could actually give them an infection from the amount of germs in the air and on the table. His delivery of facts caused the room to be incredibly uncomfortable and bleach the table very thoroughly. By the time he and the masseuse finished, only 5 minutes were left in the massage and Garcia was left horrified and amused at the same time.

“Don’t worry. We bleach the tables every time someone finishes a session.” Nora said, noticing the look on Spencer’s face. Spencer visibly relaxed and sat on the table.

“So, Spencer, tell me a little bit about yourself.” Nora followed up, pulling up a backless roller chair.

“Well, I was on a case and the unsub, unknown subject, shot at a dad but it ended up hitting me in the leg instead and…” Spencer paused, looking at Nora’s amused face.

“No, I mean tell me about you. Your hobbies, what you do for fun, things like that. I need to do a complete profile for you so I know how your quality of life has been affected and which exercises you can do at home so we aren’t pushing too fast.” Nora smiled at Spencer.

“I work.” Spencer said in a matter-of-fact tone. He didn’t really have anything else to say.

“Okay. So you’re a workaholic.” Nora wrote. She was about to ask a new question when you came quickly walking to Nora.

Spencer was left dumbfounded. There seemed to be a halo of light radiating around you, making you glow. He knew it was the sun finally rising but his brain short circuited as he continued to gaze at you.

“Hey Nora?” You said, looking down at your boss. “Mrs. Gillespi wants to know why you haven’t come back to check her form. She doesn’t trust me because, her words here, I ‘look like a child who doesn’t know their left foot from the color orange.’”

“Sure. Here, you can take over Spencer’s evaluation.” She handed you her clipboard.

You looked at the detailed notes on the paper and then up at Spencer, who looked like one of the youngest people here.

“It’s not often we get cute guys in this place. Other than Kyle. But Kyle’s an asshole who could almost be my dad.” You blurted, not realizing you said it outloud as soon as Nora left.

You noticed that he started blushing and looking at his converse and you realized that you said something. You usually spoke your thoughts out loud but the people you worked with were used to it so no one bothered to say anything.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“You called me cute.” Spencer said. “Which is fine. I don’t understand the appeal but I do believe that your blurting of what you perceive as a fact is a coping mechanism. It can also be tied to ADHD, which is a common mental disorder that causes your brain to impulsively say things.” Spencer paused, looking at your face.

“What?” You asked, again, confused.

“I’m not saying you have ADHD. I’m a doctor but not that kind of doctor. Although I could get another Ph. D. Prove my father wrong. And…” Spencer realized he was rambling.

“Cute and a talker.” You said, writing that down.

You wrote something down on the paper that Spencer couldn’t see but he was curious about.

“Let’s check out that leg.” You said, pulling out an instrument that looked like a compass.

You asked Spencer to move his knee certain ways and it wasn’t as bad as Spencer thought. You were gentle, soft even. Your hands were delicate and you ended the session massaging his leg and smiling at him.

“You were a good patient today, doctor Spencer.” You said, smiling at him.

Spencer blushed, unable to meet your eyes.

“You… I mean… I enjoyed our session.” Spencer said. “Which I don’t normally enjoy. Not that I’ve been shot before. Or had physical therapy. Or been here. Or even worked out really.”

“You’re funny, doc.” You smiled. “Your next appointment is Tuesday of next week according to the schedule so I guess I’ll see you then. I can’t wait.”

Spencer stared at you as he wondered why you were so excited.

“Why?” Spencer asked.

“It’s not every day I get the case for a cute guy who is smart and awkward. It’s almost like the heavens have answered my hopes and prayers.” You joked, looking up at the ceiling and putting your hand on your heart.

“I believe in science.” Spencer stated, grabbing his crutches.

“A man of science. Does it get any better? What’s your star sign?” You joked.

“Scorpio.” Spencer stated.

“Oop. All the scorpios I know have been some hoes. You better not be a hoe, doc.”

“I’m definitely not a gardening tool, if that’s what you’re referring to. Otherwise, I’d like to thing my lack of dating skills doesn’t qualify as being a… hoe? Although, I don’t believe in the use of the word to describe someone who enjoys spending time with multiple people. I’d like to think the use of the word is meant in jest and fun for a term of endearment.” Spencer stood up, balancing on his crutches.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You said, walking slowly with Spencer to the front desk.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asked, turning to you. He realized that he never got your name.

“Y/n.” You smiled.

The clouds must have parted again because as soon as you turned to walk away from him, towards Nora, you were covered in another halo. And just like that, you were gone again.

_____________________

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #cm

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charincharge · 4 years

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Person A and Person B are co-workers who hate each other. They’re always competing with each other at work and they’re always getting into arguments. Then one day Person A is leaving an appointment with their therapist when they happen to see Person B waiting to see the same therapist in the lobby. I think one is perfect for rowaelin.

This was silly but fun. Word Count: 1,757

Aelin pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, a horrible mannerism she’d picked up from her least favorite person. She could see her boss bite back a smirk as he noticed Aelin’s mirrored position from across the table. Aelin leaned back, removing her hand from her nose, refusing to have anything in common with the man who made her life a living hell. Fucking Rowan Whitethorn.

When Aelin had first joined Rifthold Marketing, she’d been excited to meet her team. She’d been warned she would be the first female to be hired as a senior account manager, and that it was a bit of a boys’ club. But Aelin could handle herself. She was fierce and opinionated and refused to be bowled over by any sexist asshole. But it turned out she didn’t need to be worried, the team of managers, who referred to themselves as The Cadre, invited her to their weekly happy hour her first day on the job, welcoming her with open arms.

Well. All, except one.

Rowan Whitethorn was a prick extraordinaire. He scoffed as Aelin sipped her chardonnay at their happy hour, frowning into his beer unhappily at her presence, and he hadn’t warmed to her since. It’d been four months, and every day he’d made Aelin’s life a living hell. Which is why for the life of her, she could not understand why Dorian, the company VP had asked them to work together on a new account pitch.

“This is insane, Dorian,” Rowan grumbled from his side of the table, his fingers ever present on the bridge of his nose, between his furrowed brow.

“As much as I hate agreeing with him,” Aelin said, clearing her throat. “Rowan is right.”

“I am?” he asked, straightening up slightly.

“Of course,” Aelin scoffed. “Us working together is ridiculous. I have an existing relationship with the account. Orynth Hotel Group is only taking the meeting because of me. They want to rebrand with me. Rowan has no business pitching whatever nonsense ideas he has to them.”

“Except Rowan also has an existing relationship with the client,” Rowan said, speaking of himself in the third person. It was something he did all too frequently, and it made Aelin’s skin itch every time.

“The existing relationship should not count if it’s not professional,” Aelin jeered, and Rowan’s lips curled into a sneer as his fist pounded on the table. “Who is she? An ex? You screw your way into all your accounts?”

“Excuse me?” Rowan gaped. “Dor, come on, she can’t say that. Not only is it not true,” he ground out. “But it’s grounds for harassment. I’ve worked with Maeve on three campaigns, and she specifically reached out to tell me she’d just joined Orynth.”

Rowan glared at his boss, who looked far too amused at his discomfort. Dorian sighed loudly.

“Which is why I need you to work together,” he said, giving the pair a small smile. “Orynth is a huge account, and we would be idiots to lose out because you two couldn’t come up with a cohesive pitch. I know I can count on my two best account managers to come up with something spectacular, yes?” He paused and looked at them. “By Friday, please.”

Aelin groaned and slumped back into her chair, nodding feebly at Dorian as he left the two in the conference room.

“Coffee?” Aelin offered, hoping to thaw the icy glare from Rowan’s eyes, but it hardened even more as he shook his head.

“While you waste time on that, I’ll gather my notes for you.”

Aelin tried her very hardest not to roll her eyes as she made her way across the hall to pour herself a cup of coffee. She could get through this. It was one week of her life. Just one fucking week where she’d have to spend every minute of her day with Rowan. She paused. Thank gods she had therapy tonight. Her therapist had heard far toto much about the infamous Rowan Whitethorn, and she had a feeling she’d be hearing another earful tonight.

When she made her way back into the conference room, Rowan had spread out a series of boards he’d drawn up across the table. The intricate pitch proved he’d already put a lot of work into it, but Aelin had done the same prepping for this meeting. She knew it was going to be a long battle between them. As she glanced at the boards, she couldn’t help but admire some of them. She hated that he was actually pretty talented. If only his attitude didn’t suck so badly, they might actually be a pretty great team.

“So?” Rowan asked expectantly as Aelin took a sip of her steaming mug.

“Your illustrations are beautiful…”

“But,” he ground out between his clenched teeth.

“But,” Aelin continued. “Orynth has worked incredibly hard to launch themselves as a luxury hotel brand. Cozy, family stay doesn’t exactly say – luxury to me.”

“I don’t know,” Rowan countered. “Taking time off work. Having a family. Sharing a meal. Feels like a luxury to me.” His eyes were suddenly sad, and Aelin felt slightly uncomfortable seeing it. She looked down at her coffee and when she looked back up, his eyes were back to their usual cold glare. “I suppose you have something much better?” he asked, his voice defensive with sarcasm.

“In fact…” Aelin laid out her own papers. Her boards weren’t anything close to Rowan’s meticulously drawn illustrations, but they got the point across. Rowan’s eyes flicked across them quickly, and she could see the eye roll he barely restrained.

“What?” she snapped.

“It’s just… sex?” he scoffed. “It’s so overdone. This isn’t a seedy Vegas hotel for a forbidden affair.”

“No, it’s… a staycation for an overworked couple who deserve time to relax. Away from their family. Time for themselves. Between sheets or otherwise. The luxury of being yourself.” Aelin used her best pitch voice and watched as Rowan barked out a loud laugh.

“You think that’s going to sell?”

“You’re infuriating!” Aelin said.

“You’re not much better yourself, Ace,” he spat, using Dorian’s nickname for her.

“Fine,” Aelin sighed. “Let’s scrap them both.”

“Fine,” Rowan agreed, pushing all the papers off the table and making room for new scratch. She was in for a long night.

Luckily, at seven on the dot, Aelin called it for both of them. They’d made a list of general areas to explore and a few sub headers without murdering each other. She deemed that extreme progress.

“Where you going?” Rowan asked as she gathered her things. “Hot date?” he asked, glancing at the clock.

Aelin snorted, thinking of her weekly date with her therapist. “Something like that,” she answered.

Rowan stretched, clearly annoyed. “I would have put in another hour, but who am I to judge? It’s not like we have to pitch something to Dorian in four days.”

Aelin didn’t dignify his taunt with a response, her fury rising up in her as she sped off to therapy.

“I wish I didn’t have to work with him. He’s just… rude,” Aelin concluded for her doctor, who sat listening to her intently. “All the time.”

“And you’re not?” Yrene probed. Aelin rolled her eyes.

“He started it!”

“Aelin,” Yrene sighed. “We’ve talked about this every week for months. Someone needs to be the first to extend an olive branch, and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be him.”

“Well, it’s not going to be me, either.”

Yrene gave her a warm smile. “Did you think maybe that you two spar because you’re so similar? Obviously, I only know what you’ve told me, but maybe Rowan needs you to be the first to reach out.”

“Unhelpful session, doc,” Aelin laughed as she stood, the timer beside Yrene beeping softly.

“It’s going to be a stressful week for you, I understand,” Yrene said. “But, you can do it.”

Aelin walked all the way down to her car with Yrene’s affirmations ringing in her head. Should she reach out? Say something kind? It would maybe make this week better. Or maybe not, she sighed.

As Aelin reached for the car door handle, it didn’t open. She dug through her purse only to quickly see her key wasn’t there. She realized she’d left her car key on the arm of Yrene’s couch. She’d been in such an infuriated rush when she got there she must have forgotten to put it back into her purse. Yet another thing Rowan Whitethorn was to blame for.

She stalked back upstairs to the second floor, and saw that the light on Yrene’s door was on, meaning she was already in another session. Damnit. Aelin couldn’t wait around for another forty five minutes while Yrene’s eight o’clock appointment received their therapy.

Tentatively, Aelin knocked on the door. The chatter stopped from inside the office as Yrene opened the door a crack.

“Hi!” Yrene said, her voice high with surprise.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Aelin began, “But I left my car key on your couch.”

“Am I hallucinating?” a voice called from within the office. Aelin would recognize tthat voice anywhere.

“No fucking way…” she mumbled as she pushed the door open wider.

There, on her spot on her favorite couch in the room, sat Rowan.

“Did I conjure you? Said your name three times, and you appear like Bloody Fucking Mary,” he scoffed. “Date went badly?”

“I forgot my key,” Aelin said, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. All those times Aelin had complained about Rowan, and here Rowan was probably doing the exact same thing. Aelin couldn’t bear it.

Rowan’s eyes widened as he realized where Aelin had been. He reached over and grabbed her car key and walked it to her, handing it over.

“You know,” Yrene said softly. “You two are the only clients who sit in that spot.”

“Great,” Rowan sighed. “I’m going to need a new therapist,” verbalizing the thoughts that Aelin had just had.

“No!” Yrene called out as Rowan grabbed his jacket off the couch. “Rowan, don’t…”

“At least I get to keep something this week,” Aelin smirked, putting her key back into her purse. At her smug smile, Rowan growled and stalked back to the couch, plopping down on the opposite side. He flicked Aelin off, and Yrene gave her a soft smile.

“See you next week, Aelin,” she said, closing the door in her face.

No fucking way, thought Aelin. Never again would she be seeing the same therapist as Rowan fucking Whitethorn.

~*~

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#rowaelin #prompt #charincharge writes

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the-regal-warrior · 4 years

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Earl Grey and Cappuccinos: Part Three

The next part is finally here. It’s short, it’s sweet, it’s fluffy. Also, you’ll notice that this story is mostly just me indulging myself and @nalgenewhore - but it’s such an adorable story that I don’t think you guys will mind. Oh, and y’all can thank Isa for the adorable new couple you’re about to meet.

Summary: It’s a Coffee Shop AU meets Rival Tattoo Artists AU meets Elorcan - do I even need to say anything else?

Warnings: Language and fluff, my friends.

Elide had been going through her appointment book while she sat at her desk in the office, trying to decide which sketches she needed to get started on, when her phone lit up with a text from Lorcan. Glancing down, she saw that all he’d written was: send help, the guys are dicks.

She sent him a quick reply - aww, you poor thing - before grabbing her bag and making for the door. “Nehemia,” she called, rapping her knuckles on the counter to get the other girl’s attention. “I’m heading out - you’re in charge of any appointments anyone wants to make with me.”

Nehemia just offered her a wry grin. “And where could you possibly be off to? Going to see the boyfriend, perhaps?”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Elide quipped back, winking as she backed into the front door to push it open. “You didn’t shut up about Sorscha for at least a month after the two of you started dating.”

“Oh please,” she huffed, though her giggles followed Elide onto the sidewalk. “It was only two weeks!”

Chuckling to herself, Elide slipped her headphones into her ears as she made her way to Cadre Ink, only making one stop on her way. She listened to the Dead Kennedys the entire walk, and she found that she loved the music even more because it reminded her of Lorcan.

When she finally pulled open the door to Cadre Ink and pulled her headphones out of her ears, she couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled out of her throat when she realized the exact same album was playing over the shop’s speakers.

Most likely hearing her laughter along with the jingling of the bell hanging over the door, Vaughan looked up from the front desk. “Hey, Elide,” he greeted, vaulting over the counter as she pulled the door shut behind her. “Something amusing about the ridiculous music your boyfriend picked out this morning?”

Still giggling, she replied, “no, not at all - I love his music.” When he just arched one eyebrow, she elaborated, “I was listening to the same album on the way over here.”

“Ridiculous. The both of you are completely ridiculous.” Vaughan just shook his head at her, though he did wrap an arm around her shoulders as she walked up to him, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. He and Lorcan had grown up together, and Elide knew that her boyfriend was thrilled that the two of them got along so well.

Flicking the side of his head, she wiggled out of his embrace so she could glare up at him. Even though she was a head (and then some) shorter than literally all of the boys who worked at the shop, she still had the impressive ability of being able to glare down her nose at all of them. “You love us and you fucking know it.”

Vaughan huffed a laugh. “You, I’ll admit to. But not the fucker you call your boyfriend.”

“Trying to discourage her from dating the brooding motherfucker in the back, are you?” Fenrys wandered into the lobby just as Vaughan finished speaking, hauling himself up so he could sit on the counter. “What’s good, E?”

“Well, my tits, but we all knew that. And my taste in men, obviously.” When Fenrys just scoffed at her, she leaned her weight against his thigh, digging her elbow into the sensitive skin hard enough that he winced. “What do you have against my mans?”

“Fuck, woman, stop bruising me!” Fen pinched her arm until she backed off, Vaughan just laughing quietly at the two of them. “You mean aside from the fact that he’s a brooding motherfucker?”

“Yes, you asshole, aside from that.”

“He’s just a miserable prick, E. I don’t know how you put up with his whining.” Vaughan nodded along with his words, and Elide just shook her head at the two of them.

“He’s hot,” she quipped, walking toward the office at the back of the building. “And he really knows how to use his hands!” That last bit was shouted over her shoulder, and she heard both of them groan at what she was implying.

Waving at Gavriel where he was busy prepping for a client in his suite, Elide continued her walk into the back, rapping her knuckles on the open door into Connall’s piercing suite as she stopped to poke her head in. “Hey, Con.”

“Hey,” he greeted, offering her a gentle smile as he nodded at the drink in her hand. “Bringing a certain someone his tea?”

“Like any good girlfriend would,” she joked, lifting it once in his direction as she backed out of the room. “Better get it to him before it cools too much.”

Connall just chuckled. “We wouldn’t want his highness drinking cold tea.”

“It would be a tragedy,” she quipped, waving as she moved down the hallway. She walked into the office just as Rowan was standing from his chair, and he grinned at the sight of her. Lorcan was sitting with his back to the door, his hair tied up in a messy bun as he worked on a sketch, the pencil practically flying over the paper.

Rowan brushed by her, knocking his shoulder into hers in greeting even as he chuckled quietly at the tea in her hands. She just smiled and leaned into him quickly, happy that Lorcan’s friends had quickly become her friends, too.

Walking up behind her boyfriend, she carefully set his tea on the desk next to him before she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hey there, handsome.”

Though he’d startled at her initial touch, he practically melted into her embrace when he heard her voice in his ear. She barely had time to press her lips to the side of his neck before he was turning his chair around to face her. “Hello, my love.”

She realized he was wearing his glasses as he worked, and she was quite taken by the way he looked with his hair up and his glasses on. Though she thought he looked hot no matter what he was wearing, this had to be one of her favorite looks. She’d just stepped back further to really take him in, but Lorcan’s hands on her thighs stopped her in her tracks.

“Damn, mamas,” he whistled, eyes lighting up as he looked her up and down. She was wearing an old black t-shirt of his that she’d stolen from him the last time he spent the night, and since he was over a foot taller than her, it hit her mid-thighs. She’d paired it with fishnets and her Doc Martens, her dark hair in two Dutch braids that fell over her shoulders. He slowly slid his hands up her thighs, under her - well, his - t-shirt, as he said, “if I let my hands keep wandering, will I find cotton or lace?”

Leaning down to brush her lips against his in the barest hint of kiss even as he hands kept moving, Elide just whispered, “denim, babes.” She smirked as his fingers hit the bottom of her admittedly very tiny shorts and he groaned, his head falling against the back of his chair.

“Such a little tease,” he replied, pulling her down into his lap. He lifted one hand to twist one of her braids around his finger, the other pulling her hips down into his. She groaned at the feeling of his hardening length rocking gently against her clothed pussy, and he smirked up at her. “But I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

She rocked her hips into his, laughing when he hissed out a breath. “I just like you for the pretty little noises you make.”

He laughed at that, a loud sort of laugh that echoed around the room. She’d come to realize that wasn’t a sound he made very often, and it sent a thrill of happiness through her every time she made him laugh. Cupping her face in both of his hands, Lorcan pulled her down so he could kiss her, a simple, sweet kiss that cooled the passion that had been burning between them moments ago but was still full of so much feeling.

Pulling back until he could look into her eyes, he offered her a happy little grin. “So what brings you here, my love?”

“Well, you told me to send help.” Leaning over his shoulder, she grabbed the tea he hadn’t seen in his excitement over seeing her. “So I thought an Earl Grey might be just the kind of help you needed.”

A truly beautiful smile spread over his face as he took the cup from her hands. “Elide,” he breathed, ghosting his fingers over her cheek. “This is perfect - thanks, mamas.”

“You got it, babes.” She leaned down to kiss his jaw. “I know how to keep my man happy.”

Lorcan pouted his lips at her for a kiss, which she obliged. “You most definitely do.” He leaned up to kiss her again, this one growing deeper as he carefully set his tea on the desk behind him. She wound her arms around his neck as his slipped back around her waist, and she found herself cupping the back of his head so she could angle his head and kiss him harder.

He’d just started rolling her hips over his lap when someone heaved a massive sigh from the doorway. “Will you two fiends get a room already, for the love of the gods!”

Lorcan had barely pulled his lips from hers before he was grabbing a stress ball from his desk and chucking it toward the door. Though all five guys had gathered in the doorway at Fenrys’s exclamation, it hit him right in the forehead, sending everyone else into hysterics.

Even as she laughed at the absolute bewilderment on Fen’s face, Elide couldn’t help the happiness growing in her heart. Lorcan’s friends had accepted her as one of them, and that meant everything to her. She knew how much this little family he’d created meant to him, and she was thrilled that she got to be a part of it.

Tags: @highqueenofelfhame @city-of-fae @musicmaam @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @tacmc @tangledraysofsunshine @lordof-bloodshed @how-to-be-a-bad-ass-be-me @nalgenewhore @bookrebelwordwarrior @sleeping-and-books @photofeesh @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @belamoonbeam @mis-lil-red @julemmaes @empress-ofbloodshed @thesirenwashere @mynewdreamwasyou @illyrianshadowhunter

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from my tags, just let me know. And let me know what you thought!

#earl grey and cappuccinos #egac #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elorcan #throne of glass #tog #my writing

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poppibranchlover · 4 years

Text

Nine Lives, One Fight - Part 7

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 6. Now get ready for Part 7!:

In Troll Village’s local animal shelter, Poppy and Biggie have brought Mr. Dinkles to the shelter’s veterinarian, Dr. Calmplop. The yellow Troll with blue hair checked the worm’s heartbeat with his stethoscope, and turned to look at Biggie.

“So you’re telling me that your worm needs vaccination to prevent illness from rain?” he asked him.

“Yes, sir,” Biggie explained. “I’m worried that his health may worsen if he gets too cold.”

“Well, that’s basically the problem, Biggie,” the vet said. “The temperature on his body is starting to decrease when he stays in wet weather for too long.”

“So how are you going to cure him, Doc?” asked Poppy.

“Not to worry, fellas! I can fix this problem!” Dr. Calmplop reached for his vest and pulled out a syringe. It is a medical tool that is used during the vaccination process.

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Dinkles,” he said calmly. “I hope this won’t just hurt you!”

“Mew?!” Mr. Dinkles mewed in shock.

Poppy gasped with astonishment and Biggie placed his hands to his mouth in horror at the sight of the pointed tool. “Oh my! Is he gonna be alright?!” cried Biggie, his face turning pale.

“Oh, you’re overreacting! He’ll be fine!” Dr. Calmplop told the two surprised Trolls. “Just watch this.”

“Mew!” Mr. Dinkles curled himself up into a circle and braced for the impact of the doctor’s syringe.

“I hope he’s going to be okay, Poppy!” Biggie whimpered, hugging Poppy in order for him to take cover.

“Oh, calm down, Biggie,” she told him gently as she hugged her friend back. “Mr. Dinkles will be all better soon after this checkup. I promise.”

A few minutes later, Poppy and Biggie, proudly cradling Mr. Dinkles in his hands, are now in the animal shelter’s waiting room. They were feeling very happy that Mr. Dinkles had survived his first veterinarian appointment today.

“Thank you for accompanying me to comfort Mr. Dinkles in his flu treatment, Poppy!” Biggie said happily. “I think he’ll be able to be the most healthy pet ever!”

“Mew!” Mr. Dinkles replied with a smile. Thanks to the injection given for him, he was not shivering from the sickness anymore.

“The pleasure is mine, Biggie!” Poppy said gratefully, as Biggie hugged his worm close. “Remember to always keep your pet in a very good healthy hygiene, even when on stormy weather!”

“Oh, I will!” said Biggie, nodding eagerly. “I promise Mr. Dinkles will be just as fine as he should be!”

When he looked at him, Mr. Dinkles let out a yawn to show that he is feeling sleepy, but what came out of his mouth looked a lot like a very out-of-place sound of a cat’s distressing moan.

“Meeeeeowwwww!!”

Startled by the sound, Poppy and Biggie stared at Mr. Dinkles in shock. Biggie leaned down and looked into his pet worm’s eyes.

“Uh, Biggie?” asked Poppy cautiously. “Is that sound coming from Mr. Dinkles?”

“What are you talking about?” said Biggie, shrugging. “That meowing sound is not coming from him!”

“Mew!” Mr. Dinkles mewed, as if nothing unusual had happened.

But the distressing cat moaning sound kept going across the room:

“Meeeeooooooowwww, meoooooooowwwww!!!”

Poppy looked at Mr. Dinkles again to see if the sound was still coming from him, but the worm just shrugged.

“Where is that terrible moaning sound coming from?” she asked as a chill ran down her spine. Whoever made that awful meowing sound made her feel uncomfortably afraid.

Biggie pointed to a door in the distance. “I think the sound is actually coming from over there! You better take a closer look for yourself. I’m going to take Mr. Dinkles home.”

“Okay, Biggie!” said Poppy cheerfully. “See you tomorrow!”

After Biggie and Mr. Dinkles left the animal shelter, Poppy remained inside to investigate the sad meowing sounds. She cautiously crept towards the door, hopefully not to disturb anyone in this silent and scary room.

“Hello?” she called out quietly. “Who’s in there?”

“Meeeeeeeeeeoooooooowwwwwwww!!!”

The meowing continued, and Poppy shuddered. She would have been convinced that the animal shelter looked more like a haunted house on Trolloween, but she loved how bright and busy this place is in the daytime rather than on nighttime. When the sun went down and the sky turns dark, everything feels eerily quiet and all that can be heard were the sounds of trapped sad animals.

Taking a deep breath, Poppy pushed the door open and went inside. After closing the door quietly, she looked around the room and gasped when she discovers hundreds of cages that held a lot of stray animals. They are making sounds of despair and plea as they hoped for their freedom.

Poppy walked around the room, helplessly watching how sad these creatures have been. “Oh no. Poor defenseless animals,” she whispered as she looked at the cage of a scared little dog. “I hope you are all going to be okay, and one day you might be adopted.”

She stroked the dog’s cage, and it whimpered close to her face from the metal bars. Deep in her heart, Poppy disliked the feeling of the animals being trapped in the animal shelter’s pound. This place is more like a prison for strays, especially for pets that never wore a collar or run off by themselves. What’s worse is that they may get euthanized if they were kept in this place forever.

While Poppy is checking around the cages, all the animals trapped were going about their usual routine of being depressed and calling out for adoption. Two young ferrets snuggled close in their cage cell together and whimpered, tears rolling down their cheeks.

An orange spotted dog held the bars of the cage and cried out with agony, feeling famished with no other food in the pound to eat.

What had haunted Poppy’s thoughts was the repeated loud distressing sounds of a cat, and the noises were actually coming from Branch’s cage.

“Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeowwww!!! Meeeeeeeowww!!!”

From his cage, Branch was trying to sleep, staring at the piece of meat in front of him. His stomach kept complaining about something else to eat for a few hours, and a tear rolled down his cheek before he closed his eyes. Poppy didn’t even notice that she was starting to approach his cage while she is still exploring.

“I wonder what has happened here?” Poppy wondered aloud.

This immediately caught Branch’s attention. His cat ears twisted back and forth as he heard the sound of her voice, making a shiver go all the way down his spine to his tail.

“Poppy?” he gasped in disbelief as he saw her walking away from his cage. This was now his chance to escape! If Poppy managed to set him free, she can be able to bring him home. He quickly thought of a solution and placed his claws near the cage bars, yelling for her to come closer to him.

“Poppy! I’m over here!” Branch shouted desperately. “Help me get out of here! Help me, Poppy! Please hear me out! HELP!!!”

Meanwhile, Poppy stopped in her tracks to hear the same meowing sound from before. She listened closely to where the sound is supposed to be. After two seconds of observation, she finally approached Branch’s cage, certain to find out that he was the one making those noises. When she was at a reasonable distance, she watched him as he shyly crouched back and shivered.

“Awwww!! What a cute little cat!” Poppy cooed happily when she saw Branch in the form of a small cat. “Hi there! My name is Queen Poppy!”

“Meow!” Branch tried to say something, but Poppy didn’t understand his voice and can only hear him meowing. He rested his head between his front paws and folded his tail around his back legs, closing his eyes and ignoring the complaints of his tiny cat tummy.

The heart of the pink Troll squeezed with affection. He looked very sad. Was she the only Troll to notice? Poppy placed her hand on the bars and asked him calmly “You’re hungry, huh?”

Still crouching back, Branch nodded feebly and uttered a long complaint. He was completely starving, and he felt his heart failing a beat when he saw Poppy staring at him. He must have something else to eat, otherwise he would starve. That was his chance!

“You look very sad when you are trapped in here for a long time,” Poppy told him gently. “I promise I will definitely keep you!”

Branch couldn’t believe his ears! Poppy was very naive, and she was not afraid of cats at all. He groaned and pointed at the steak in front of him. The Queen seemed to feel disgusted.

“You don’t like that?” she asked.

“No seriously.” Branch shook his head and spoke in his own language. “Would you even eat raw mice?”

“I don’t think I like eating meat either,” Poppy said, seeming to understand Branch’s meowing sounds. “Cats prefer eating some tuna. Do you like some tuna?” She pulled out a piece of raw tuna out of her pink hair and waved it in front of Branch, who lifted his head and sniffed at the sweet smell that filled his nostrils. He knew this smell! It was that same scent of his tuna-flavored sandwiches that he have eaten during his days as a Troll!

As he continued sniffing, Branch looked up at Poppy with wide eyes. “WHOA!! I would have thought you would have needed more time to realize! I AM A TROLL!!!”

All he was saying was some noisy excited meowing, but Poppy seemed to find it too comical. She moved the tuna closer to the square-shaped hole of the cage, and Branch hungrily bit into it. CHOMP!!!

But the piece of tuna was too big to fit into the hole, and Branch kept pulling and gnawing it. Finally, Poppy forcefully pushed the tuna into the cage, where it is left dangling in Branch’s mouth. Happy to have a mouthful of tuna, he began to devour his meal as Poppy watched with glee.

After a few seconds of eating, Branch licked his mouth and returned his attention to his savior. He meowed gratefully as if to say “Wow! This tuna tasted so good and now I felt a lot better! Thank you, Poppy!”

Poppy laughed lightly. “Awwwww! I like you!”

Branch stared up at her, touched by her words. His long tail swayed from side to side with excitement.

“Hey!!!” shouted a voice. It was Garth, coming into the room to see that Poppy was comforting the poor animal.

Branch crept back to his hiding place when the animal control officer went closer to the cage. “Who dares going near this cage?” the Troll demanded.

Poppy tried to explain. “I’m sorry, sir. He was just hungry. Can you at least release him into the wild? He feels so sad in the animal shelter all by himself.”

But Garth clearly didn’t like how sad it made the little cat to see him explain sternly to Poppy, and this Troll also clearly knew what he had to do. “Ma’am, I am truly sorry. But we need those little animals kept here until they are asked for adoption. Perhaps you must stay outside for a while until I try to think of what to do with him.”

Garth pushed Poppy away from the cage, and Branch watched helplessly as he ushered her to the door.

This couldn’t be happening! Poppy was his one chance to get out of here! Branch banged his cage and frantically meowed for her to come back, but she couldn’t hear him because she is now further away from him, heading for the door. Tears ran down his cheeks as Branch continued calling out for her.

“Meeeeoww!! Meeeeeeoww!!! Meeeeeeeeeeowwww!!! Meeeeeeeeeeowww!!!”

Poppy grunted in frustration before she can place her hand on the door knob. She ran back to where she first found the sad dog, looking for Branch and growled firmly “What do you want? He decided I should not keep you!”

She soon caught herself on what she have just said. Her sentence made Branch even more upset. He sat in his cage with his ears drooping and his tail barely resting on the floor, staring at her with his massive sad pleading eyes.

“Meow!” Branch meowed very sadly. He was scared to live in the pound for the rest of his life, and without Poppy feeding her more tuna, there was nothing for him to eat. He had finally decided to be adopted by her rather than escaping by himself. Poppy watched as he continued meowing with plea, her heart going out to this poor creature.

She sighed and stared into space for a moment, knowing that she needed to make a tough decision. If she left the pound, Branch will be upset and become euthanized by the officers. But Poppy thinks if she really did adopt him, he will be safe and she will have nothing else to worry about. She liked that cat, and he looked cute! He was way more Branch-cute, as she can see that the face of the cat looked like Branch’s.

Poppy ran back to Branch’s cage, feeling sorry for him to be gotten rid of. She could not leave him there. That cat was very innocent. Why did not anyone notice it like her?

When she was near the cage, Branch abruptly stood up and began to scrape at the metal bars as if he already knew what she was going to do.

Poppy placed her hand next to Branch’s paw and told him gently “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here.”

To her astonishment, Branch uttered a kind of grunt that she had never heard; he was purring. Poppy turned to Garth and asked him very clearly “Can I keep that cat? He is very miserable here.”

At first, the green Troll was surprised by her answer. Then he looked down at Branch and narrowed his eyes on Poppy, trying to clarify what she really wanted. “Listen. If you need to keep these animals, you’re gonna have to make sure to handle them properly. Can you promise me you can be responsible to adopt this cat?”

“Yes,” Poppy said firmly, nodding eagerly. “I will.”

To Branch’s surprise, Garth pulled out his key and unlocked the cage, making the transformed Troll-cat crouch back a bit.

After the lock was opened, Garth swung the cage door to the right. When Poppy carefully approached Branch, he kept himself in his resting position and looked up at her, shivering nervously. She was so big and tall, in contrast to his small size.

“Come,” Garth urged. “Come on out now.”

“Awwwww! Here kitty kitty,” Poppy said gently, smiling at him. “I won’t hurt you. You’re going to be safe with me, all warm and cozy!”

But Branch shuffled backwards, shaking uncontrollably and feeling shy on the thought of being adopted by a Troll. But he knew being kept by Poppy was the only way to escape since Garth will never allow him to release him into the forest, where he might soon encounter another big black dog.

Poppy reached out her hand for Branch to lean in, whispering to him “Come over here. Don’t be shy. I’m very responsible for these poor pathetic creatures just like you.”

When her hand went closer to him, Branch rested his head on his front paws and continued shivering. He was frightened now. He didn’t like this idea at all. All he just wanted was to get back home to his bunker. But he knew he would never find another way, so he forced himself to give in and cautiously approach Poppy before he felt the smell of her hand.

Poppy thought it looked cute to see Branch crawling to her with his eyes widening. As soon as he was nearly close to her hand, he sniffed at it in wariness, his nose twitching like an animal. It was so adorable.

Branch shuddered and winced when he felt Poppy’s cold fingers running down his forehead. He grunted, trying to resist but he can’t seem to escape that much.

"Oh, you are so cute!” Poppy marveled, stroking his head more comfortably. “I never thought you had such fluffy fur!” She reached out her other hand to stroke Branch’s back, feeling the softness of his blue fur. While she continued petting him, Branch was frowning and groaning. That is what she wanted from the beginning...to know if his fur was such fluffy? He was being bewildered at the comfortable feeling of being touched by a Troll that he purred quietly to himself.

Finally, Poppy took him in her arms and gave him a big cuddly hug. Branch wheezed with discomfort and struggled to break out of the hug, but Poppy held him so tightly like a happy little girl hugging a plushie.

“Oh, you look so soft and cuddly!” she said sweetly. “What should I name you?” She ran her fingers to Branch’s fur to give him a gentle tickle, but that didn’t really made him laugh. “How about I call you “Mr. Tickle”! After all, your fur feels so “ticklish” to me!” She giggled and hugged Branch close, while stroking his fur. At the thought of being called one of the weirdest pet names Poppy can really pick, Branch groaned, knowing that this idea he made was definitely a disaster.

When Garth approached Poppy, Branch pulled back to the right side of Poppy’s shoulder, frightened. She cradled the little cat, comforting him, as Garth kindly told her “I will let you keep this cat. But you must make sure to take good responsible care of it. If he ends up running away like before, we’ll bring him back here once again for confinement.”

Branch cowered at this sentence. He wanted to be better off from the pound rather than get caught by a net again and come back here. He kept himself secured in Poppy’s arms as she said confidently “Don’t worry about that, sir! I promise I’ll try to take really good care of this cute little kitty!”

Once again, she stroked Branch’s fur, making him purr and feel very relaxed. Thanks to this plan, he got nothing else to worry. Poppy will definitely keep him, and he hoped not to break her promise to the officers.

Finally, Poppy said goodbye to Garth and headed out to the door to exit the animal shelter, happy to bring a frail little cat home.

To Be Continued...

Stay tuned for Part 8!

#dreamworks trolls #poppy and branch #poppy #branch #cat #cat branch #branch the cat #biggie #mr dinkles #animal control #garth #dr calmplop #cat branch story #nine lives one fight #fanfiction

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #270

“please remain calm; the end has arrived. we cannot save you; enjoy the ride.”

Do you own pastel-colored pants? No. What type of lotion do you use? I don't really use it. Nothing seems to help how dry my skin is. What were your favorite clothing stores in high school? Hot Topic. If you could have a car in any color you wanted, which color? Pastel pink, but realistically (given a pink car would probably have a paint job I'd have to pay for, I assume?), I like burnt orange cars. Not too brown-ish, though. What is your favorite color, do you look good in it, & do you wear it a lot? Pink, probably not, and no. Name someone you know who hates pink. Idk. What is your favorite Avril Lavigne song? "Nobody's Home." Do you kill bugs? Sometimes. Depends. If they're in my house, most likely. Have you ever had a bedroom that had wallpaper on the walls? No. Do you own any rompers? No. What’s one thing you’ve done to celebrate Earth Day? I made a birdhouse out of a milk carton once. Animal Planet taught me lol. Do you use window clings (aka window stickers)? No. What color is your stapler? Black. Do you have a desk that you sit at in your room? Ugh, no, but that's one reason I want to move to somewhere I have a bigger room for a desk so I don't do everything in my damn bed. What do you miss about college? Feeling like I was worth something and on a "proper" path. Was your middle school crush the same as your high school crush? No. What is/was your dream school? I never had a "dream" school. Do you wish you could talk to someone about your past? If so, who? Idk, probably someone. What motivates you? Music and/or videos on whatever subject I could use motivation in, like self-care on my bad days. Have you ever completed a weight loss program? No. Tried, though. When was the last time you did something for the first time? I went through a doctor appointment entirely without Mom just a few days ago; she had to stay in the car due to chemo, so I filled stuff out, checked in/out alone, answered questions on my own, that business. I'm entirely aware it's sad as hell that a 24 y/o did that for the first time, but if you knew just how dependent I am on my mom, you'd get it. Which do you prefer: Valentine’s Day or Easter? Valentine's when I actually have someone to celebrate with, but I love Easter as an aunt with how excited the kids are about candy and all. Easter sorta rubs me the wrong way though since, y'know, Christianity essentially stole and rebuilt it. Do you wait until the last minute to decorate, or do you decorate early? I myself don't even decorate. Mom only does for Christmas, and it's very last minute. What’s your favorite Starbucks drink? I don't drink Starbucks. What were you wearing in the last good selfie you took? *checks phone* uh the one where I'm wearing a red tank top is okay. That's all you can see cuz FUCK taking full-body pics of me. What’s on your wish list right now? Ha, I actually have a list in my phone of things I really want/need to buy when I can. A few include a bigger terrarium to Venus, a treadmill, an Unus Annus shirt before the channel and thus merch expire, glasses for driving... What do you use to sweeten your tea? I don't drink tea. Have you ever owned an expensive eyeshadow palette? No, I don't wear enough colors or makeup in general to warrant buying one. When was the last time you stepped outside of your comfort zone? The aforementioned doctor visit. How would you rate your self-esteem? Low, healthy, or high? Low as like, the deepest oceanic trench probs. Do you own a tripod for your camera? Yeah. Were you a bigger fan of Lindsay Lohan or Hilary Duff? Hilary. Do you make Halloween costumes out of clothes from your closet? Only ever to just be a goth to live out my inner fantasy of regularly flaunting that aesthetic. Do you enjoy putting outfits together? Not particularly. Would you rather it rain or snow? Snow! What does your umbrella look like? Don't have one. What’s one thing you’ve had a toxic reaction to? Do you mean like, emotionally/mentally toxic? I'm guessing probably yes. Even though parts of it were entirely realistic, understandable reactions/behaviors, I most definitely had some toxicity in me regarding the breakup, too. Which do you prefer: cropped tops or tunic tops? Uggghhhh, both are so cute. On me, I'd only ever wear tunic tops, but on others, I tend to find cropped tops cuter. What’s a style or trend that you think is ridiculous? I don't pay enough attention to this to really know... hm. Yeah, idk. Which YouTuber do you want to be more like? I could only dream of being as motivated and smart and determined and "I can do this shit" as Markiplier jfc I Love One Man Only. Do you like stuffed animals? EEEEEEEEK yes!!!! What was your favorite class in high school? Art. Have you ever gotten straight A’s in a class? If so, which classes? Yes; not to brag whatsoever, but too many for me to remember. I remember I got my very first B in 5th grade in I think math, and I was so bummed out. Were there any subjects that you got a perfect SAT score in? If so, what? I don't think so. Are you happy today? If so, what made you happy today? I'm content-ish, not happy, but also not unhappy. Is your bed right by a window? There's one to my upper right and middle left, but my bed's not exactly against either. Do you spend more time in your bedroom or your living room? I barely leave my bedroom. Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for? Halloween, if I actually did decorate. Do you name stuffed animals still? Very rarely. Depends on what it is, the importance, etc. What titles did you win in the senior class polls? I FUCKIN READ THIS AS "TITTIES" AND WAS JUST LIKE... Anyway, none. Were you popular in school? No. If you’re from the US, what states have you lived in? Only NC. Who was your best roommate? Well, Jason, if he even counted as a "roommate." Was your first roommate your best roommate? See above, considering idk if he fits the term; if he does, then yes. What’s the best family vacation you’ve ever been on? Disney World. Have you ever wanted to be a model? No. What years did you attend prom? Sophomore (bf was a senior and he took me) and senior. What do you want to be for Halloween? I was recently listening to a metal version of Oogie Boogie's song from TNBC and it hit me: MISS Oogie Boogie. A fat bitch could pull that shit off, watch me ho. Which member of your family are you closest to? My mom. If you have any regrets, what is the biggest one? If not, why do you have no regrets? Letting a boy become absolutely all that mattered and more to me. Would you ever apply to be on reality TV? Why? Ew, no. I don't need any more people judging me and my life. What is the best thing that has ever happened to you? The partial hospitalization program that saved my life, literally. Do you have a hard time letting things go? It depends on what it is, but generally, yes. I recently realized one of my greatest flaws: I respond very, very poorly to loss, in any way. Looking back on people (especially people), events, other things... a negative, chronic reaction to loss is present throughout. What have you accomplished in life that has made you the most happy? Emotionally healed, a lot. I don't think some things will ever fully scar over, but nevertheless, I don't mentally have fuckin gashes in me. Have you ever struggled with your weight? Ever since the breakup, yes. I thought I was slightly fat before then, but looking at pictures now, I just think "damn hunny u look gud" and realize I was perfectly healthy. But anyway, I was put on a medication called Abilify (full-on name droppin', fuck this med), and it MURDERED my metabolism. I could eat a fuckin carrot and gain five pounds, probably. Emotional eating probably contributed too, but here's the thing: my current doctor took me off of it, knowing the moment I mentioned it that it was not only bad for me and my conditions but also responsible for the extreme weight gain? Pounds dropped like a ton of bricks, and this started before my emotional eating began to die off and regulate. I lost around 80 pounds just from dropping a goddamn pill. Cue college essay-long rant here about how my body image was slaughtered, how much I loathe the fucking doc that kept me on the med and blamed everything on me, and now how I've been stuck weight-wise for two years despite a vast plethora of methods to continue shedding a;sdlkfajkwlelawe GUYS I could rant til my hypothetical great-grandchildren die. When you are out with your friends are you loud and outgoing or shy and reserved? It depends on who the friend is, where we are, etc., but generally, I'm just awkward, trying to be outgoing when in fact I'm questioning every single thing I say and do al;wekjrkawde this survey has taken a TURN. Do you like to stay in your pajamas all day long? I don't leave my pj's unless I have to leave the house and go inside somewhere besides like, a gas station or something that's just "whatever." In high school did you have a lot of friends? Do you still keep in touch? I wouldn't say a *lot*, no, but not a tiny amount, either. The only one I ever still see is Girt, but I keep up with many on Facebook via the like button and shit, ha. Do you really care about such issues as abortion, religion, and global warming? Fuck yes I do. Who is the biggest womanizer you know? Juan sure was, but I haven't been in contact with him for years. Would you ever have a threesome? No. Who is the most attractive person you know? Of those I personally know-know, my answer will probably always be Alon like jc she's beautiful. When did you last feel the most free? ZOINKS we can't ask that question in America rn. Is there anyone who likes (or liked) you and had a really hard time getting over you? I don't know. Did you ever love someone and feel like it was wrong? Love? No. Well, before I realized I was bi, maybe Mini counts, as then I was anti-LGBT and couldn't even imagine myself as anything but straight. What’s your favorite bug? Butterflies. What’s the longest amount of time you liked/loved somebody for? Yeesh... I still can't say with absolute confidence I no longer love Jason at all, whom I started dating in 2012 and went head over heels for. What song makes you cry? There's a few that are capable of it sometimes, but do fucking not play "Stairway To Heaven" if I'm within 10 miles of you. "Another Life" by MiW usually makes me tear up towards the end, but it normally doesn't get that far anymore. Do you like rock or rap music better? Rock, as I'm not a rap fan. If you could watch someone change, would you? Yes let me live my life a;lsdkfjaws Ever known someone with an eating disorder? I don't know. I think maybe? Have you ever had a white Christmas? I think? The best snow we ever got was late Christmas night though, and the next morning was a total whiteout. What’s something you want to do but aren’t sure of yet? Hm. Idk. I'm pretty sure of most things I want to do. Biggest lie you ever told? I'm not entirely sure and I'd rather not search for one. Do you have a religion? I don't fit perfectly into any. I relate most with Neo-Paganism, but even that I deviate from some. Believe that there is a point to churches? I mean sure, people have the right to believe in/worship what they want to, and some people get a lot of joy and reassurance out of going. How do eat Oreos? "I split them in half and lick the cream before eating the cookie." <<<< Converse or Vans? Idc. Eh, maybe Converse, but idk. Dancing or watching others dance? I love watching others dance, it's why I enjoyed dance recitals and competitions. Favorite thing to touch/feel? My cat! <3 Rather be in a tornado or a large earthquake? Both would be horrifying, but I guess earthquake. I've had an outrageous fear of tornadoes since I was very little. Would you rather Santa or the Easter Bunny actually exist? Santa, duh. Would you rather spread gossip or start a fight? Start a fight, I guess. Trying to sully someone's name with false information would haunt me way more than starting an understandable fight. What has been the best New Year's for you so far & why? I don't know. What is the weirdest fear you’ve ever heard of someone having? Do you have any weird fears, and if so, what are they? Uhhh I think maybe butterflies? Idk, even that's not too weird considering it's an insect, and that's common. I'm personally absolutely terrified of pregnancy and also whale sharks scare me quite a bit. ig that's weird. How did you find Tumblr? lol how could you not know at some point as a teen on the Internet. What of the 8 wonders of the world do you find the most fascinating, if any? I had to look them up lmao. I guess the Great Pyramid of Giza. I in general find Egyptian culture and art to be very cool. Do you have a webcam? If you do, do you ever use it and what for? I mean, it's built into the laptop. I never use it. What is something that you think is really underrated? The band Otep, for one. I mean they're not small, but I don't think most people interested in the metal genre know them. OH and then there are A LOT of YouTube artists that MADLY deserve to be signed. I have a large chunk of metal musicians I listen to, and those especially like Jonathan Young blow my fucking mind they haven't technically "made it," even if they have a large subscriber base. Have you ever had a dream where you died? Did anything weird happen to your body after it? Yes, a few. Now hang with me, okay? One of my worst nightmares as a kid involved the wicked witch from TWoO turning me into one of those fucking party things that you blow into it and the paper unfurls and her using it killed me. Yo idk. I was really scared of that witch as a kid. What’s the scariest dream you’ve ever had? How about the most realistic? It involved my dad and that's all that needs to be said. Realistic? Hm. This was SO long ago that I barely remember *just* how real it felt, but I remember it felt real as fuck. I was very little when this happened. I dreamed that I went outside to our porch because there was a weird light and when I stepped outside, a swan and a goose flew down from the light onto the porch to become my late grandpa and my deeply beloved cat Midnight, who died from sickness. I'm sure it was just a dream now, but back then, I was VERY convinced it was like a vision from God or something, telling me they were okay and with us. Do you have a favorite fashion trend? What is it? Is there a fashion trend right now that you think is completely ridiculous, and if so, what? What do you think was the worst fashion trend of all time? I don't care about fashion enough to go in depth about all this. I'll tell you right now though that mullets were the worst mistake known to mankind. Do you tend to like original horror movies or re-makes better? What’s your favorite horror movie? Is it an original or a remake? If you're remaking an old one, I'll probably like it more since they're generally not nearly as cheesy. Modern horror movies, I don't have much of a preference. My fave is The Blair Witch Project, and it's an original. What is one characteristic in a person that you cannot stand? What characteristics do you like best in a person? Do you possess any of these characteristics? Those that act violent when they're angry, for one. Those scare me. Some traits that I really like are compassion, patience, genuineness, empathy, kindness just for the sake of being so, stuff like that. I'd like to think I've got some of those. It's notable that in my nightmares, I'm way more violent than I actually am, though. What kind of jeans do you like best? When I actually wore jeans, they were like solely skinny jeans. What has been the most traumatic experience of your life? Does it still bother you? A very abrupt and poorly-executed breakup after a long-term relationship and falling way, way too hard to be healthy. Does it still bother me? PTSD is stapled on my fucking forehead if you know the slightest about it. I've healed a whole lot, but I'm pretty sure it's a scar that's never going to even fully seal.

#survey #surveys #quiz #questions

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danfanciesphil · 5 years

Text

Some Kind Of Folliful (New Chapter)

Edgelord!Dan x ObliviousBisexual!Phil AU [CHAPTER THIRTEEN] (based off the 80′s classic Some Kind of Wonderful)

Synopsis: Dan has one friend, and only because he was forced into it. Phil is loud, excitable, and irritatingly happy all of the time. Phil seems to find Dan’s perpetual attitude funny, and despite Dan’s best efforts to shun him and everyone else, wants to be around him all the time. That is, until Phil starts talking about Amanda Jones. Word Count: WIP (Estimated 12-15 chapters) updates every Tuesday Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smoking, swearing, heavy drinking, drug mentions, implied prostitution, broken home, class divide/classism, pining, light homophobia, sex

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven] [Chapter Eight] [Chapter Nine] [Chapter Ten] [Chapter Eleven] [Chapter Twelve]

[Ao3!]

This chapter is NSFW. Explicit. Sex happens.

From: Dan To: Louise 13:23pm Can I have the weekend off?

From: Louise To: Dan 13:24pm This better be a damn joke

From: Dan To: Louise 13:25pm I worked the entire school holiday! Double shifts!

From: Louise To: Dan 13:25pm You also skived off two shifts to go get beat up by some rich kid

From: Dan To: Louise 13:27pm Please.

From: Louise To: Dan 13:30pm ughhhhhhHHHH FINE. I will give you today and Saturday off. Only because you never ask so I assume ur either violently ill or have a serious dick appointment.

From: Dan To: Louise 13:32pm :D thanks. srsly.

From: Louise To: Dan 13:33pm I expect details.

From: Dan To: Louise 13:34pm Don’t suppose I could wrangle Sunday too?

From: Louise To: Dan 13:34pm Don’t push it, Howell.

From: Dan To: Louise 13:40pm xxx

Despite his best efforts to remain cool and aloof, there eventually comes a point where Dan truly can’t resist looking over his shoulder any longer. He half-expects Phil to be looking right back at him. Instead, Phil is hunched over the small wooden desk in front of him, scrawling onto a pad of paper. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth, a tiny pink rose petal, resting on the jut of his lower lip. Just then, Phil looks up, as if he can sense Dan’s break in resolve. His eyes are shining with excitement, which makes no sense, as they are stuck in detention with Mr Richardson for at least another twenty minutes.

Furtively, Phil looks to the front of the room, where Mr Richardson is steadfastly refreshing his LinkedIn page, and then back to Dan. He lifts the pad up to show him, beaming. Centre of the page is a pencil drawing of Dan, slumped over his desk, forehead resting on his hands, in the exact position he’d been in until about a minute ago. Dan rolls his eyes, mouthing ‘creeper’.

Phil puts the pad down, then holds up an index finger to Dan, a signal for him to wait a moment. Dan sighs, pretending that keeping his eyes trained on Phil is some great effort. Truthfully, he’s incredibly grateful for Phil’s presence here. Dan has spent a great deal of time in this very chair, at this very desk, wishing for any kind of distraction or entertainment. Usually he wishes for something banal, like Mr Richardson’s pen exploding, or the stoner kid who sometimes sits in the corner desk to catch his dreads on fire with the lighter he’s always flicking under the desk. But having Phil here is a miracle that Dan had never so much as dared to dream about. He’s a gorgeous beacon of pure light, sat just the other side of the room, all too happy to return Dan’s mildly creepy staring. He holds the pad up to Dan again; this time, there’s a message on it.

Still up for coming over for the weekend? After work obvs.

P.S ur cute

Shaking his head, Dan mouths ‘no work today’. The joy of this news lights Phil’s eyes an even more radiant blue. Dan lets the smile teetering on the edge of his mouth fall across his face. A cough startles Dan out of the moment, and he turns to the front of the classroom in time to watch as Mr Richardson strides down the few desks towards Phil. He lifts the pad close to his nose to read it, then sighs heavily.

“Touching,” he says, drily. “But I think Daniel can wait to hear how ‘cute’ he is until after detention, don’t you?”

Mr Richardson lets the pad fall to Phil’s desk with a loud thwack. It makes Phil jump in his seat, adorably.

“How’d you know it was directed at me, Sir?” Dan finds himself asking. It’s too tempting to resist; that little pulsing vein in Mr Richardson’s neck is pounding away as always, just begging to be engorged. “I think he was angling it your way.”

Mr Richardson whirls around to face him. “Would you like for me to double your sentence, Mr Howell?”

“He’s just kidding, Sir,” Phil jumps in quickly, which is probably good as Dan had been about to suggest he and Mr Richardson skip the courting stage and go straight back to his place. “I won’t write any more notes. Sorry.”

With what seems to be a great deal of effort, Mr Richardson lets go of the tension in his shoulders and nods to Phil, then makes his way back to the front of class. Phil sends Dan a look, which obviously reads ‘stop being a prat’, so Dan smirks down at the homophobic graffiti on his desk, and tries to be a good student for the next eighteen minutes.

On his way out of detention, Dan is so steadfastly trying to keep his head down and not meet Mr Richardson’s eye that he barrels straight into Megan, the girl he sees in here most days. Her jet black hair is pulled into two ponytails either side of her head; it’s too short to be tied up properly, so they stick out like bundles of feathers, secured by bright pink and purple bobbles. If Dan cared enough to ask her about her unusual style choices - the shiny lime green Doc Martens, the string of ropey bracelets and sweatbands up her wrists, the chunky neon beads she wears around her neck when she can get away with it - he imagines she might say she’s ‘Scene’. It doesn’t seem to bother her that the era of the Scene Kid has, thankfully, for most, been abandoned in the late noughties.

“Shit, sorry,” Dan tells her when he crashes straight into her, hot on Phil’s tail.

She glowers at him. Her kohl eyeliner is thick and scary-looking. “Sorry? That’s rich.”

“Uh, what?”

“You and the art ponce?” She jabs a thumb towards the classroom door, where Phil is lurking, watching Megan with a startled expression. “Really?”

Bewildered by her sudden hostility when he’s spoken less than a sentence to Megan in all the time they’ve been stuck in detention together, Dan just stares.

“Is there some kind of a problem?”

“After all this build-up between us, you go and date a random dude?”

“Build up?” Dan’s stare becomes a little panicked. He glances at Phil, who appears to be sniggering into his hand.

“You mean to tell me that you're in detention every time I am by chance?” She sneers derisively. “Pull the other one.”

“Um, Megan, is it?” Dan asks tentatively, taking a hasty but hopefully discreet step backwards.

She claps loudly. “Round of applause for the acting skill. Dan, is it?”

“Right, yeah.” He swallows. “I’m sorry but… I’m gay. Did you think…”

Something falls across her pale face, as if she’s been struck. “Gay,” she repeats, voice at a far more reasonable volume now. Her thick eyeliner just looks panda-ish, suddenly. She tugs her chewed cardigan sleeves down over her hands. “Not bi?”

“Nope,” Dan says. Crap, this is awkward. He’s never had to come out to a random stranger before. Although perhaps Megan would argue that they’re close friends. “Just boys.” He glances at Phil. “One boy, actually, now.”

“Oh,” Megan says. She looks hurt. “I thought… because you’re always in here when I am...”

“I’m in here pretty much every day,” Dan tells her. He gestures to Mr Richardson, who appears to have fallen asleep on his own shoulder. “Thanks to my number one fan over there.”

She closes her eyes, shaking her head. “It’s just… everyone’s bi now, y’know? I heard rumours about you some of the guys around town but… I thought you were just playing the long game with me.”

Dan is finding it very difficult to put himself in Megan’s shoes here - he can’t even remember a conversation he’s had with the girl, let alone a moment that might lead her to think he had some kind of romantic interest in her - but he nods sympathetically anyway, hoping it might lead to a faster escape.

“Sorry if I gave off signals or something,” he says, awkwardly.

She shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“Um, I’m sure you’ll find someone?”

She nods, sadly. “I guess. I mean, you did, right? Nobody saw that coming.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, inching around her towards the door. Phil is looking at him, eyes tinged with amusement. Dan sends him a withering look, then turns back to Megan. “Guess if I can snag someone, anyone can, right?”

“...you’re like one of those horses with the blinders on,” Phil tells him, hands either side of his eyes in demonstration. “You’re so oblivious to all the people lusting after you every day-”

“Oh, come off it,” Dan interrupts, eyes rolling backwards. “Lusting. Please.”

“Dan, you’re off-the-charts gorgeous,” Phil says. He grabs hold of Dan’s hand and tucks it into his coat. It’s because Dan doesn’t have gloves on - doesn’t own any, even. It’s a sweet gesture, but it makes walking beside Phil a little awkward, especially when other people are walking the other way and have to squeeze past them. “You must see how people look at you.”

Dan shrugs, embarrassed. “Creepy guys at Ozone maybe. Girls, though? Like, actual, reasonably attractive girls. Why the fuck would they want a lanky, perpetually bruised idiot with too many holes in his flesh?”

Phil stops them mid-pavement, pulling Dan towards him, until they’re chest to chest.

“Because, in an emo, heroin chic way, you’re extremely sexy,” he says, then kisses him. Dan tries to be annoyed that Phil basically just called him a 2002 Pete Wentz, but Phil’s tongue is distracting. It flicks against Dan’s lower lip, where the cut is still healing. “Miss the lip ring, though,” Phil murmurs. “That completed the look.”

“I can prob’ly re-pierce it,” Dan replies, muffled because Phil won’t stop kissing for even a second. “If it turns you on that much.”

Phil laughs, breaking away. “You don’t need a lip ring to do that.”

“I don’t like detention,” Phil says, then licks a long line up Dan’s throat.

“No?” Dan gasps out, fingers digging into Phil’s shoulders. He can feel one of the framed, childhood photos of Phil digging into his back, threatening to fall once Phil releases him. “I find Mr Richardson’s lectures on respecting teachers truly scintillating.”

“No, I don’t,” Phil says, pushing their mouths together greedily. “Two hours in a classroom, staring at you, nothing to do but think about all the time wasted that I could have spent doing this.”

“An hour and a half,” Dan corrects, so Phil kisses him harder to quiet him, hands planted on Dan’s hips.

In his time, Dan’s had plenty of selfish, greedy assholes backing him into corners, but nobody he’s ever actually wanted this badly. They’d barely gotten in Phil’s front door before Dan found himself pressed up against the wall of the entrance hallway; they’ve not even taken off their shoes. Vaguely, Dan registers a noise in the distance, and reasons it must be a dog in another room. Phil doesn’t seem to notice the noise, too focused on how far he can slide his hand up Dan’s shirt without removing it entirely. The noise gets closer, and Dan realises blearily, belatedly, that Phil doesn’t own a dog.

Just as this realisation crests, Mrs Lester rounds the corner. “Phil, love is that- oh!”

Phil jumps back at the sound of his mum’s voice, but it’s too late. She’s already seen the worst of it. Dan waits for the ground beneath him to split into a gaping hole into which he can tumble, but presumably because God hates him, it doesn’t happen.

“Mum!” Phil exclaims, breathless.

Dan runs a hand through his hair. “H-hi, Mrs Lester. Kath. Mrs Lester.”

She’s wide-eyed, cheeks rosy pink. In her hands she holds a pair of socks, which she seems to have forgotten are there. “Phil, could I have a quick word?”

Phil tosses Dan a look of apology, then follows him mum through the lounge and into the kitchen. Dan waits for a minute or so, straightening his shirt, trying not to think the worst, and then can’t battle his paranoia any longer. He creeps into the lounge, listening hard to the hushed conversation from the next room. If he stands in the space beside the bookshelf, he can just about make it out, whilst avoiding being seen.

“...thought you’d be gone already.”

“Yes, I can see that, love.”

There’s a pause; Dan can hear his own heart thumping.

“So, you and Dan are…”

“Yeah.”

“I see. How long have you been…?”

“Um, about two weeks? Just over.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Mum,” Phil says, clearly embarrassed.

“You could have told me, you know.”

“I was going to,” Phil insists. “I just… I wanted to make sure it wasn’t all going to explode. I don’t wanna pressure him. He’s even told me he doesn’t like people at school talking about us. He doesn’t even care about them. But he likes you, I know he does. I haven’t had a chance to ask him what he’d think about you knowing. If it might be a bit much for him. I’m just- I’m so scared I’m gonna say something wrong and he’s gonna bolt. You know what he’s like.”

Dan frowns. Phil is really worried that he’s going to bolt?

“Okay, I understand your concerns,” Kath says, kindly. “But I still think if he’s going to be staying here, I ought to be aware-”

“Yeah, I know, you’re right. I’m sorry,” Phil says. “But nothing’s changed really. He’s just been coming over for Buffy marathons and hot chocolate after he’s finished work, like always.”

“Hmm, well that certainly was not a Buffy marathon I just walked in on.”

Phil laughs, and Dan thinks he hears Kath tittering too. “Sorry you had to see that. So embarrassing.”

Kath sighs, and there’s shuffling noises. Dan thinks maybe she’s giving Phil a hug. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart. Hope you know that.”

“You are?” Phil’s voice is muffled, like he’s speaking into her shoulder.

“Just took me by surprise is all. I mean, I always wondered if maybe you had a little crush on him…”

“I think, in hindsight, it was quite a bit more than a little crush.”

Another long pause. “Well, Dan’s a very lucky boy, then.”

“You’re really okay with it? He can still come over in the week and stuff?”

“Of course,” Kath replies in that kindly, mumsy voice Dan loves her for. His heart aches at the sound of her easy, ready acceptance. She makes motherhood seem so simple. She’s an open book, filled with endless words of love and support, more than happy for anyone who needs it to rip out a page. She saves the best of her chapters for Phil, of course. But there’s some passages bookmarked especially for Dan, too. “Do be careful with him, won’t you, Phil?” Her voice is thick with concern. “That scary mask he wears might fool some people, but you and I know it’s made of thin, breakable glass.”

Dan frowns again, mildly irritated that she sees him as a fragile little flower, but he has to begrudgingly admit that Kath has never once fallen for his tough-guy façade. The first time he ever met her, he was his usual cagey and brooding self, unconcerned with making a good impression on any parent. But much in the same way Phil had, she wore his shell away with persistent sweetness. She invited him to stay for dinner, and gave him second helpings without asking, then chocolate biscuits with tea. She asked him a thousand questions, and didn’t mind if he preferred not to answer them, but listened intently if he did. She told funny stories about Phil as a kid. She told him to come back anytime he wanted, even though he was basically a dick all night. She’d been unrelentingly nice and caring, in a way that Dan had never before felt from an adult.

“Don’t worry,” Phil assures her. “I think I’d give him the whole world if I could.”

“And… what happened to that Amanda girl you brought round? I thought you were besotted with her?”

Dan’s stomach clenches.

“We’re just friends.” The surety in Phil’s voice is like a blanket Dan wants to clutch to his chest.

“Okay then. Well, I guess I’d better get going,” Kath says in a sigh. “I was just finishing packing.”

“Tell Auntie Pat I say hi,” Phil says. “And stroke Mittens for me.”

Alarmed by the movement he suddenly hears, Dan sneaks back through the lounge towards the hall, managing to make it out just before Phil and his mum exit the kitchen.

“Phil, just one last thing,” Kath says from the lounge, her voice so quiet Dan can hardly pick it up. “You two will be safe, won’t you?”

“Oh my God, Mum, please-”

“Phil, I’m asking for your own good-”

Dan has to clap a hand over his mouth to stop the laugh escaping.

“Yes, fine, wow, we’ll be safe I promise.” Phil says in a rushed garble. “Now I never ever want to speak about this again.”

Kath laughs quietly. “Fine. You’re sensible, I know. But I am your mother, I have to make sure.”

When Phil rounds the corner, he looks vaguely traumatised. Kath is right behind him, a calm smile on her face. Dan smiles back, unsurely, trying to seem as though he has no idea what they’ve been discussing. Kath crosses the hall towards him at once, and wraps him in her arms. Dan feels a little choked up, but manages to remain composed enough to return the hug, gently patting her on the shoulder. She releases him without comment, for which Dan is incredibly grateful, and then starts up the stairs.

“There’s plenty of food in the house boys,” she says as she goes. “Help yourselves, both of you. I’ll be back on Sunday.”

Once she’s out of sight, Phil begins spewing apologies. “...had no idea, I thought she’d have left ages ago because we were all that time in detention-”

“Phil, it’s okay,” Dan says, laughing. “Mortifying, obviously. But not the worst position I’ve been caught in by someone’s mum. And your mum is by far the coolest.”

“Bit of a mood killer, though,” Phil says, sighing.

Dan grimaces. “Yeah.”

They stand in silence for a moment, both reliving the look on Kath’s face as she’d first caught sight of them.

“Wanna watch a film for a while? Take our minds off it?”

“Absolutely.”

Three hours after Kath leaves, and they’re on their second film of the evening - Forgetting Sarah Marshall. It’s not helping ease the tension hovering around them, because Phil had said right at the beginning that he’d always kind of fancied Russell Brand, and now it’s all Dan can think about.

“Would you have sex with him?”

Phil wrinkles his nose. “Dunno.”

“Like, if he was here right now,” Dan persists. “Leather trousers, birds nest hair. Asks you to pop your kit off and join him in the cupboard.”

Phil laughs, playing with a popcorn kernel from the almost empty bowl. “Um, no.”

“No?” Dan turns, avidly interested, as ever, in Phil’s elusive sexual preferences. “Why not? He’s had the experience. So, he’d probably be decent at it, at least.”

“Yeah, well, even so.”

There’s something halting, maybe even reluctant about Phil’s tone. Dan might be imagining it, but he thinks Phil’s mildly uncomfortable with this discussion. Dan decides to prod just one last time, to see if he can get whatever the discomfort is out of him, and then he’ll drop it.

“Is it ‘cos he looks a bit, like, grubby?”

Phil laughs again; his cheeks have turned pink. He flicks the popcorn kernel away. “Look, I’m sure Russell’s great in bed. Fantastic, maybe. But right now, I only wanna have sex with you.”

The breath catches in Dan’s throat. As the unexpected statement sinks into his skin, the tension he and Phil have been stewing in fizzles away. He crawls across the sofa - Dan had jumped to the opposite side of it after a startling reappearance of Kath, hands over her eyes, shouting something about leaving her scarf behind and that she wasn’t looking - until he’s close enough to straddle Phil’s lap. He winds his arms around Phil’s neck and kisses him, slowly, taking his time, because they have oodles of it.

Phil is eager and responsive in the way that Dan imagines he might have been himself, if his first time had been with someone he actually liked. Dan had been too young to appreciate what he was losing, and to whom; he regrets it immensely. He’s determined that Phil’s experience will be different. This sweet, incredible boy deserves so much more than some vaguely nauseating fuck in the back of a car that’s over in less than a minute, and that the other party won’t even remember. If Dan is honest, he believes that Phil deserves more than anything Dan can possibly offer, but if Dan is what he wants, then Dan will do his best to make it perfect.

They’re just getting into it, just starting to find their way beneath hems and waistbands, when the doorbell rings.

They break apart, a little dazed.

“We could ignore it?” Phil suggests, and Dan is more than on board, so swoops back in to kiss him again.

A minute passes, and then it rings again.

Dan sighs, reaching for the remote to shut Russell up once and for all, then climbs off Phil’s lap. Phil stands a little shakily, smoothing down his school uniform, and goes to get the door. Dan idly flicks through his Twitter timeline on his phone, waiting for him to return.

“Amanda,” Phil says, somewhere in the background. Dan shoots upright, swivelling to look. He can just make out Phil, and a vague, familiar silhouette on the doorstep. Her brown curls give her away.

“Hey,” Amanda says. “Is this a bad time?”

Dan gets up, his feet marching him to the door without his permission.

“Well, actually,” Phil starts to say, but then Dan is at his elbow. Phil blinks at him, worriedly.

“She wanted to talk to you,” Dan says. “She told me. You should invite her in.”

“I can leave, if you want,” Dan says, because nobody is saying anything.

Phil sits up straight, staring at him. “No, don’t.”

“It’s okay, I can go for a walk or-”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to both of you.”

They both turn to Amanda, vaguely worried. She’s got her hair in a messy ponytail, and is wearing jeans, which Dan cannot remember ever seeing on her before. He doesn’t remember her being at school today either.

“Okay,” Phil says. “Did you want a drink or something? I’ve got tea, or-”

“No, it’s okay. I won’t stay long.”

Dan stares at her hands, clasped in her lap. Her French manicure tips are peeling off. She’s sat in the exact spot on the sofa where Dan had been perched atop Phil’s lap not ten minutes ago.

“I basically just wanted to tell you both that there are no hard feelings,” she says carefully. She aims a smile at each of them, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “At least on my end.”

“That’s good to know,” Phil says, softly. The guilt is still coursing through him, it’s plain to see.

Dan doesn’t respond. He can feel his fingernails digging into his palm, the way they tend to do when he’s trying to suppress some awful emotion he doesn’t want to feel.

“I really am happy for you both,” Amanda continues. She clears her throat, a tiny, perfect crease between her plucked brows. “I know you feel like you used me, Phil. And Dan, I know you must think I’m, like, the ultimate cockblock.”

You have no idea, Dan thinks privately.

“But I’m glad that, even though I didn’t know it at first, I was able to help you both to get what you really wanted.” In her following sigh, Dan’s suspicions are confirmed; this touching speech is not the real reason she’s here. “But - and again, I’m not blaming you guys - after all that’s happened, I’m sort of... in a tricky spot.”

Phil is immediately alarmed. “Is it Hardy? Is he bothering you again?” Dan considers ramming his fingers in his ears so he can drown out the concern in Phil’s voice. He turns to Dan. “You said you scared him off.”

“How is this my fault?” Dan snaps. “If he’s harassing her it’s not because I didn’t punch him hard enough. It’s because he’s a knob.”

The response is about to trip of Phil’s tongue, but Amanda gets there first. “No, guys, it’s not Hardy. Well, not directly.” She shifts in her seat. “The Elite gang are pretty harsh about anyone that doesn’t follow la regle de jeu.”

“La what?”

“The rules of the game,” Dan mutters; Phil glances at him, surprised. “Their game. Shocker, really. They always seemed such an easygoing bunch.”

Amanda raises her eyebrows at him. “Yes, we’ve established that I’m an idiot for going anywhere near them, Dan.”

It’s infuriating that she doesn’t ever try to defend herself. Dan’s not used to having someone so readily accept their own folly. Her acknowledgments knock Dan’s insults right back over to him, and he’s never prepared to swing his racket in time to catch them.

“Wait, so, it’s all of them?” Phil asks, clearly not following the game. “The whole Elite gang are giving you trouble?”

“Have you ever seen Mean Girls?” Amanda asks. “It’s not like they’re knocking my books out of my hands, or shoving me into lockers. But they’re bitchy and they’ve got the whole school under their thumbs. Together, they’re perfectly capable of destroying my life, and they seem pretty intent on it.”

“Are you saying that going to Prom with Phil is akin to committing ‘social suicide’?” Dan asks bitterly, putting the Mean Girls term in a fake American accent. “What a touching sentiment.” He scoffs. “I’m so sick of this stupid playground drama. What are we, twelve?”

“Dan,” Phil warns.

“No, I get it,” Amanda says, looking down. “He’s right. It’s completely pathetic. Even when I was taking part in it, I hated it. Keeping up with the Elites was exhausting. The constant battle for Queen Bee. The lies and the backstabbing, everyone secretly despising each other. And being with Hardy was just embarrassing. Everyone knew he was cheating. The whole discussed it, laughed about it, and I had to pretend like I was too ditzy, too lovesick over him to notice.” She puts her head in her hands. “I thought that, maybe, if I took a huge leap, right back over the tracks, I could escape it. That’s why I said yes to you when you asked me, Phil. I saw a chance at some normalcy and I took it. It wasn’t fair of me, I know that. But in a way, we were both sort of using each other, right?”

There’s a lull in the discussion; Phil aims a worried look in Dan’s direction. Dan begins chewing the skin around his thumbnail.

“I’m sorry that I’m even asking this,” Amanda says then. She looks up at Phil, then at Dan, eyes shining. “But I need your help.”

Phil sucks in a breath. “What is it?”

Something in Dan’s chest crumbles and breaks away. It seems so unlikely that Phil could be over her, if he’s this willing to jump to her aid, even now.

“It’s not much,” Amanda says quickly. “School is over in a couple of months. I just want to get through it. Lillian and the others are turning the whole school against me. People say horrible things. They leave notes in my locker. They spread rumours. I’m sure you’ve heard.”

Now that she mentions it, Dan does recall hearing a few strange things about her recently. He hadn’t paid much attention - he’s usually bored to tears by high school gossip - but hearing that she’d been seen leaving the Savoy hotel in a new designer dress on the arm of a seventy year old man, or on the other end of the spectrum, dancing on a pole in a poor, cheap disguise at a seedy strip club two towns over, had caught his attention.

“What can we do?” Phil asks.

Dan wants to make it very clear right now that he is not, and will not ever be, getting involved in this. His mouth won’t seem to form the words, though.

“I need friends,” Amanda says. Dan waits, but this appears to be the extent of it. “Just to hold the rumours off a bit. If they think I have people on my side, maybe they’d be less vicious. All you’d have to do is sit with me a few times at lunch, or hang out with me outside of school now and again. Maybe I could come to the café every once in a while? Then you wouldn’t even have to make the effort-”

“Amanda,” Phil interrupts. “It’s fine. Of course we’ll be your friends.”

The relief on her face is too overwhelming to be faked. Even so, Dan is not willing to offer his own services as a friend. It’s taken him this long to be comfortable with having just one. Even Lee is still on a trial period.

“It’s just until school’s over,” she says again. “I just can’t take it on my own. I thought I could, and I tried, but they’re just… they’re terrible people. Lillian’s sister is in Aidan’s class, I’m so worried about what could get back to him-”

“It’s okay.” Phil’s smiling, happy this has all been cleared up so neatly. “I got you into this mess, it’s the least I can do.” He turns. “Right, Dan?”

Dan tears a strip of skin from his thumb with his teeth. He wants so badly to say no. He wants things to go back to how they were, for Amanda to crawl back to Hardy, who would undoubtedly be all too happy for the only believable beard he’s ever grown to fix itself back in place. But for some reason, Amanda “Elitist” Jones is suddenly hellbent on doing the right thing. Even Dan knows that to refuse being someone’s friend, for two measly months, is a dick move that cannot be justified, no matter how suspicious he might be of potential motives. If he says his no, Phil won’t understand. He’ll be angry. Their weekend will be ruined, and so might be their future.

So, Dan swallows it all down. “Yeah, totally.”

Phil beams at Amanda. “Oh, by the way, I have your jacket.” He stands suddenly, and Dan feels a little ill. “Wait here.”

He jogs out of the room before Dan can beg him to stay, leaving he and Amanda alone. She fixes him with a knowing stare. “You’re not happy with this.”

Dan thinks about lying, but decides against it. “No, I’m not. You could beg anyone to be your friend for two months. The Elites might be getting people to shun you, but you’re still Amanda Jones. Just smile sweetly and anyone in St Anthony’s would do whatever you say.”

“Exactly,” Amanda says. “I want real friends. People who I can actually talk to. Not Elite wannabes that put me on some ridiculous pedestal, only hanging out with me because they see an open position on the throne.”

“I just don’t see why it has to be him,” Dan says, gripping the arm of the chair.

“Him?” Amanda’s smile is as treacherous as it is sincere. “Dan, I want to be friends with you.”

As usual, the dust takes a while to settle in the wake of Amanda’s departure. Phil brings Dan a mug of tea, handing it over cautiously. Still sat in the same position in the armchair, Dan takes it from him, still mulling over all that’s happened.

“So,” Phil says, perching on the arm of the sofa. He sips from his own mug. “That was unexpected.”

“Mmm,” Dan says. His mind is whirring, producing the kind of noise Phil’s laptop makes when it’s overheating from excess Sims playing. “Guess we’re all besties now.”

“Is it a problem for you?”

Dan considers this, finger skimming around the rim of his mug. “I think... I can get past it.”

Phil nods unsurely, scrutinising Dan’s glazed expression. “You sure? If it really bothers you, we can try and find another way.”

Dan takes a sip of his tea. It’s faintly sweet, because Phil knows Dan too well to believe him when he says he doesn’t take sugar.

“Just don’t fall in love with her,” Dan says into the mug. He means it to come out as a joke, but inevitably it’s spoken quiet and sombre.

Phil puts his mug down, then walks to Dan. He takes him by the hand and pulls him from the chair, then wraps him in a hug. “No chance of that,” he says into Dan’s forehead. “I’ve got something a thousand times better.”

“No!”

Dan wakes up with a jolt, hands coming up to cover his face, because shouts usually mean he’s about to get smacked. He hears a quiet ‘shit’ and then arms come around his shoulders; his heart slows gradually, and then Dan remembers where he is, and that he’s unlikely to be in danger of getting pounded in Phil’s bedroom. At least not in any way he’d need to defend himself from.

He lowers his hands, blinking in the darkness. “The fuck?”

“Sorry,” Phil whispers, guiltily. “Didn’t mean to frighten you. We fell asleep.”

Dan squints, trying to piece this together. “So you screamed ‘no’ in my ear?”

“I’m annoyed at myself,” Phil explains. “We’re supposed to be in the throes of passion.”

Dan snorts, falling back to the pillows, exhausted. “Russell’s a bad influence on you.”

Phil prods him in the arm, then falls back beside him. “I’m sorry. I promised you a weekend of sordid, non-stop lovemaking. So far, the two worst people that could have interrupted us mid-sexy-times did, and now we’ve fallen asleep in our not very arousing Elmo and Game Of Thrones pyjamas.”

Dan laughs tiredly, eyes already re-closing. “We’ve got loads of time for all that.”

“Tomorrow I’m gonna ravish you,” Phil warns, though by the sounds of it he’s already half-unconscious.

“I’d better prepare my body for the ravishing ahead.”

Phil swats him in the arm. “You’d better, Howell.”

They don’t get up until noon, for no good reason other than Phil’s bed is ridiculously comfy. Dan wakes up with his nose in Phil’s neck, so he presses a kiss there, then another, and eventually Phil stirs.

“Hey,” Dan says, then rolls on top of him.

Phil’s blue eyes blink up at him, wide and surprised by the sudden change in positions. “H-hey,” he says. “What’s-”

Dan leans in and kisses the question away. Somehow, Phil still tastes wonderful, even first thing in the morning. Dan can’t be sure the same can be said about his own morning breath. He lets himself sink into the kiss regardless, hands beginning to wander beneath the covers, skidding over the strip of skin where Phil’s pyjama top has ridden up in the night.

Phil’s breath hitches, and then his hands come to Dan’s shoulders, gently rolling him off. Dan sits up, worried. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phil says quickly, sitting up as well. The covers fall to his waist. He gives Dan a reassuring smile. “Sorry, just… too hot.” There’s a pause as Dan digests this lame excuse. “I’ll make some tea. Do you want some tea?”

“Um,” Dan says, thrown. “Coffee, maybe?”

“Sure,” Phil says, tossing the covers aside.

He stands up quickly, snatching the mugs they’d used last night from the bedside table. Once he’s left the room, Dan stays put for a second, trying to figure out the next what might have just gone wrong. Eventually, he decides to quell his pounding paranoid thoughts, and follow Phil downstairs. In the kitchen, Phil is whistling away as he clatters mugs and kettles about, happy as a clam. Though he finds this sudden turnaround odd, Dan makes the choies to just forget about it. Perhaps Phil was just hot and uncomfortable in the first few minutes of waking, like he said. Or, more likely, maybe Dan’s breath was actually too terrible to withstand the kissing a moment longer, let alone anything else.

“I’m just gonna go brush my teeth,” Dan calls to Phil, making him jump. He turns, hand on his heart, giggling at himself.

“Cool, do you want some toast?”

“Sounds great,” Dan says, then heads for the bathroom.

They eat toast on the sofa together, watching Good Morning Britain.

Licking the crumbs from his fingers, Dan says, “Piers Morgan’s definitely the kind of guy who’d refuse to go down on his wife, but expect her to give him a twenty minute blowjob.” Dan turns to Phil, who is staring at him dazedly. “Like DJ Khaled. Y’know?”

Phil’s eyes are glazed, fixed on Dan’s fingers. His plate of toast crusts is slipping off his lap.

“Phil?” Dan asks.

He focuses suddenly, snapped back into the room. “Hm? Sorry, what was the question?”

Dan regards him curiously, lowering his fingers from his mouth. “Don’t worry,” he says, turning back to the TV.

A couple of hours later, they’re still on the sofa, because they’re lazy and it’s the weekend. Dan has his feet on Phil’s lap, his back against the other end of the sofa. They’re watching Jeremy Kyle, one of Dan’s all time favourite shows, and laughing at the ridiculous drama erupting on stage.

“To be honest, if some chick told me my boyfriend had fucked her brother and her Dad, I’d probably tackle him on live TV too,” Dan says. He’s got one arm behind his head, and the other resting across his stomach, idly tickling the skin on show. He turns to Phil, amused by the antics on screen. “So don’t try anything, yeah?”

Again, Phil is doing that strange, distant stare. This time his eyes are firmly fixed on Dan’s abdomen, pupils moving in time with the back and forth of Dan’s fingers. A slow smile creeps over Dan’s face, and realisation dawns.

“Phil,” he says again. His voice is a fair bit lower now. “Phil?”

“Hm?” Phil’s eyes are still trained on his fingers, so Dan pushes them just under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, and Phil looks up, cheeks pink. “Is there something you want?”

Phil swallows. “I was just…”

Dan sits up, feet lifting from Phil’s lap, and closes the gap separating them. He reaches for the remote, switching off the TV, and brings his mouth to Phil’s ear.

“You can have me whenever you want, you know,” he purrs. “If the staring isn’t doing it for you.”

A shiver goes through Phil, Dan can feel it. He slides onto Phil’s lap for the second time this weekend, careful to watch his face for any sign he might not be into this. There’s an uncertainty in his eyes that Dan wants to get rid of, so he settles himself atop Phil’s thighs, and brings Phil’s hands to his hips.

“You still up for some…” Dan arches an eyebrow. “Fun?”

Phil swallows again, his hands tightening on Dan’s hips. “Yes.” He sighs, eyes fluttering closed. “Sorry. I’m just… nervous, I think.”

“Of me?”

“No,” Phil says in a breath. Dan can feel his leg jiggling, because he’s sat on it. “I just… I mean, I know you’ve done this a lot.”

“Wow,” Dan says, sitting back a little. “Cheers.”

“I’m just kinda daunted,” Phil explains. “What if I suck?”

Dan has to fight the laugh that bubbles up rather hard, and he doesn’t entirely succeed. “Um…”

Phil pokes him in the side, making him yelp. “You know what I mean.”

“Hm,” Dan says, already sliding off Phil’s lap, onto the floor. He kneels on the carpet, a hand on each of Phil’s knees. “Sounds like your worries have got you quite worked up.” Phil’s mouth has fallen into a little ‘o’. Gently, Dan pushes Phil’s knees apart. “Let me…” Dan bites his lip, holding Phil’s gaze. “Help you to relax.”

He waits just enough time for Phil to have the option of refusing, but he remains blissfully, mercifully quiet, just watching Dan with wide, fluttery eyes. As Dan leans forwards, tracing his tongue along the seams running along Phil’s inner thighs, Dan imagines he can hear an Angelic chorus. He curls his fingers around the waistband of Phil’s trousers, inching them down, eyes locked on Phil’s, just in case he might protest.

“Lift,” Dan whispers once they’ve reached a point he can’t pull them past. It takes a moment for it to register, then Phil cants his hips upwards, and Dan tugs. The dark hair beginning at his bellybutton snakes down, spreading into a tight thicket at the base of a long, thick, flushed cock. Dan can feel his mouth filling with saliva at the mere sight. “Fuck-ing hell,” he breathes, wonderingly, and wraps his fingers around it, forgetting to stop and ask if it’s still okay. “Phil, you’re gorgeous.”

Phil’s hips twitch, and Dan reorients himself, remembering that this is, in all likelihood the first time anyone’s touched Phil this way, aside from his own hand. Dan moves his hand gently, watching the expressions of awe flicker across Phil’s face. He’s breathing in short stutters, hips twitching forwards, like he wants to thrust into Dan’s fist. It takes about a minute of gently pumping his curled fingers up and down, before Dan’s resolve breaks. He leans in, fist still wrapped around the base of him, and swirls his tongue around the head.

Phil sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, one hand flying out to rest atop Dan’s head. “Fuck,” he says, eloquent as ever.

Dan lets out as snort of laughter, which comes out as a pulse of breath through his nose. Phil tastes so good. He tastes as delicious as he does everywhere else, like he’s got waffle syrup pumping through his veins instead of blood. Dan knows, the second Phil’s flavour spreads across his tongue, that he’s addicted to it. He sinks his mouth over Phil’s length, chasing more, already so blissed out it’s a wonder he can stay focused; he’s wanted this for so long that it’s practically torturous to finally receive it. Like giving a child access to an entire candy store, allowing it to gorge itself, after months of only peering longingly through the locked doors. A whimper falls from Phil’s lips, scraping past Dan’s ears on its way to the floor. Dan pockets it for later, knowing it will be very helpful for the late nights Dan spends alone, thinking about all the many, many ways he wants to make Phil come.

“Dan…” Phil chokes out, sounding strained. Blindly, Dan reaches out a hand, and Phil threads his fingers through it immediately. “Dan, fuck. I don’t think I’m gonna last very l-long.”

Ignoring him entirely, Dan just sinks deeper, unable to suppress a groan, born from the thrill that courses down his spine as he feels the length of Phil’s cock sliding down his throat. He goes slowly at first, letting Phil slip in and out of him gently as he bobs his head. But Phil’s whimpers are turning into needy little whines, his hips are threatening to push further into the cavern of Dan’s mouth. So Dan places a hand on Phil’s upper thigh, and picks up the pace. It’s beyond any kind of pleasure Dan’s ever known, to watch, to feel, to taste, as Phil completely falls apart under his ministrations. He meets Phil’s eyes, holding the gaze because he wants to witness every last second. Phil’s got a hand threaded into Dan’s curls, pushing the hair from his eyes. Dan’s name falls like dewdrops from his reddened lips.

And then, just as he warned, it seems he can’t hold on any longer. He tastes like sweet, sun-warmed rainwater as he floods Dan’s mouth. In Dan’s wildest imaginings of this moment, of which there have been many, he never once dreamed of spitting it out, and now, he wouldn’t do it if you paid him. He swallows all of it down, then lets Phil slip out of his mouth slowly, missing the thick, heavy weight of him on his tongue the moment it’s gone. He sits back on his ankles, breathing ragged, and untangles their fingers.

“Feeling a little less tense?”

Phil still appears to be struggling to glide back down to the real world. He sits up, with some effort, and latches his pupil-blown eyes onto Dan’s. “Come here,” he demands, croakily.

Dan’s never been one to deny Phil, and it would be hopeless to think he could start now. He hops up, clambering back into Phil’s lap happily. The moment he’s close enough, Phil drags him in for a kiss. Dan tries to stop him, knowing he’ll only be tasting himself, but apparently this doesn’t seem to bother Phil. He kisses Dan deeply, hungrily, hands slipping straight under his t-shirt, and then pulling it off entirely. Dan chuckles at his eagerness, and then abruptly stops laughing when Phil reaches between them, to press his palm against Dan’s erection, through his pyjamas. Instinctively, Dan bucks into the touch, hands going for the back of Phil’s head. Phil strokes his thumb across the very spot where the tip of Dan’s cock pokes against the fabric. Dan tilts his head to one side, and Phil’s mouth goes straight for the exposed neck, kissing and biting at it.

“Not fair,” Dan complains, though he’s urging Phil onwards with a hand on the back of his head. “You know that’s my weakness.”

Phil finishes sucking what Dan imagines is a very large bruise, then leans back, eyes sparkling. “I warned you I’d give you another one to match.”

“Lesters always follow through,” Dan jokes, and Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s bare waist, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Will you come upstairs with me?”

Dan is a little surprised, but he nods regardless. He climbs off Phil’s lap, realising for the first time just how ridiculously, achingly hard he is, mostly because of how lightheaded he feels when he attempts to stand. Luckily, Phil, pyjama trousers pulled back up, takes hold of his hand and leads him up to his room. As soon as they’re inside, Phil shoves Dan backwards, sending him sprawling across the bed.

“Hey,” Dan complains, though he’s laughing. “Didn’t know you were into BDSM.”

“You would look pretty hot tied up,” Phil says unexpectedly, scooting around the bed to dig in his bedside drawer. “But maybe we could try that another time, when I’m less terrified.”

For a moment, the smile on Dan’s face freezes. “You’re terrified?” He watches Phil, concerned. “You don’t have to do anything, you know. We can just leave it for now-”

Phil jumps up onto the bed, pulling off his t-shirt. It’s a very effective method of shutting Dan up, as he’s got a gorgeous body, lean and tapered, with big shoulders and a defined waist. Dan reaches out to grab at him, his hopeless arousal muddying his conscience.

“I think I’d be terrified even if we waited for the wedding day,” Phil says, which makes Dan splutter. “You’re just…” Phil trails a hand down Dan’s torso, lightly sweeping across the skin, side to side. “You’re unbelievably beautiful. On top of everything else.”

Dan thinks about asking what ‘everything else’ is, but knows all too well that Phil’s misguided notions about Dan’s personality are difficult to listen to. Instead, he asks, “what can I do to make you less scared?”

Instinctively, Dan’s hand lands on Phil’s, stilling him as he brushes over the burn scar on his left side. But Phil reaches down and removes it, then leans down to press soft, careful lips against the shiny pink skin. Dan’s eyes sting.

“Just tell me if it feels good,” Phil says as he leans back up. He plucks what looks like a small bottle of lubricant from the pocket of his pyjama trousers.

“Phil, if you knew how many times I’ve dreamt of you... of this...” Dan starts to say, then shakes his head, smiling faintly. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to not make me come, like, ridiculously hard.”

He looks a little dazed at this information, but Phil nods, then slips his fingers into Dan’s waistband, and pulls. Dan lifts his hips so Phil can slide them off, watching Phil’s expression closely as he drinks in the sight of Dan’s entirely naked body for the first time. Dan’s cock twitches, as if it knows it’s being closely observed.

“Shit, Dan,” Phil breathes. His hands are free-roaming over the miles of Dan’s skin now on show. “I want to draw you like this,” Phil says. He trickles light, teasing fingers from Dan’s sternum to his pelvis. “Would you let me?”

“R-right now?”

Phil laughs. “No, not right now.” He settles into a position, half laid on top of Dan, then sends him a mischievous glance. “I have things to take care of.”

Phil picks up the bottle of lubricant, which has fallen to the bed, and uncaps it. He pours some into his palm, then pauses, and squeezes out a little more. He rubs it between his hands for a moment, then, before Dan can stop him, wraps a hand around Dan’s erection.

“Ah! Shit,” Dan exclaims, laughing a little.

Phil freezes instantly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just freezing,” Dan replies, still chuckling. “Maybe warm it with your hands a little more next time?”

Phil joins in the laughter, nodding. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t get a chance to expand on his apology, because right then he starts moving his hand, the slick lubricant creating an indescribable friction, one that pushes a moan from Dan’s throat, has him arching his head backwards into the pillows. Phil drapes over him, hand still slowly pumping around Dan’s cock. He presses damp, messy kisses against Dan’s neck, bracing his face above Dan’s with an elbow beside his head.

“Does it feel good?”

Dan groans, hands finding Phil’s shoulders. “So fucking good.”

Spurred on by the news, Phil speeds up, at which point Dan’s eyelids screw shut, and he bows forwards into Phil’s neck.

“Look at me,” Phil whispers then. It’s an unexpected command, but Dan does it nonetheless, lifting his head to stare into Phil’s eyes.

He can only hold it for a moment before he has to look away again, but Phil is not having it. He releases his hold on Dan’s erection, which briefly makes Dan want to die. Phil reaches up to tilt Dan’s chin back around, forcing their eyes to meet again.

“Please, I want to see you,” Phil whispers, pressing their lips together. “Will you?”

Tears sting Dan’s eyes, and he’s not sure why. There’s something about this that feels too much, like he’s about to slip under a turbulent, roiling ocean. The press of Phil’s body on top of his is overwhelming; Dan can feel connecting of their skin seemingly at every join, can feel their hearts beating in rhythm, their breaths synchronised. Phil is warmth, and light, and sweet, pure love; it sounds absurd, but pressed together as they are, Dan can feel all of it sinking into him, through his pores, to the sinew and muscle beneath. He feels the incredible swell of Phil’s adoration, and it’s dizzying, maddening to know, deeply, that it’s all for him.

Phil’s hand wraps back around his cock, and Dan tries with all he has to keep his eyes locked on Phil’s like he wants. But two tears spill over, and he has to shut them, to blink them away. Phil kisses him fiercely, like he’s been missing out on the taste of Dan’s mouth for years. Like he’s been battling far away in some great unknown war, with Dan left alone, waiting for him, and now he’s returned, and he’s determined to drown them together, in the love they couldn’t swim in whilst they were parted.

Something cataclysmic builds in Dan’s chest, something terrifying and enormous, so unfamiliar that Dan wonders if he’s on the brink of death. He feels everything Phil is pouring onto him in this moment through their locked eyes, feels the weight of his suppressed yearning. And then it explodes through him, a tidalwave of blinding, electrifying ecstasy, ebbing out to the very tips of his toes. He breathes heavily, gripping onto the only life raft he has: Phil, still above him, floating on the edge of this tsunami, sure, and strong, and safe.

When it’s over, Dan washes ashore, back into the familiar blue and green bedclothes he’s been curled in so many times. Phil rolls to the side, and Dan crashes onto his chest, limp and utterly boneless.

“Was I okay?” Phil asks, tentative and unsure.

Dan doesn’t think words could ever possibly express the pure, raw, visceral phenomenon that he just experienced, so instead, he leans up, spreads himself over Phil however he can, and tries his best to show him.

(Chapter Fourteen - FINAL CHAPTER - Coming Next Tues!)

#skof #some kind of folliful #phan #phanfic

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twerkinwithhazza · 6 years

Text

Little Black Box

Authors Note: Look at me.Writing on a Wednesday and keeping my promise of a strong comeback! I have been teasing you guys with a prompt for a while now and it is finally done, and I thought it is fair to give you this in compensation for the lack of the Just a Taste Part 3. The suit in the gif is the suit I am referencing in the imagine because it truly did things to me. I am so excited for the feedback and to continue to write, thank you so much for all the help @yeshaddy and @bigdaddystyless . Please read my writing here and send me requests here. Enjoy!

Warnings: Smutty Smutty Smutty

It has been 72 days. Actually 72 days 15 hours and 36 seconds in counting since your last orgasm. Normally, you were able to hold your composure by distracting yourself with household tasks and extra hours at the office but it just wasn't cutting it anymore.

Between the Givenchy on the 24th to the Klein’s purple treat on the 27th, he was making all of it a bit too much to bare. Unfortunately, the one being that could satisfy your cravings was thousands of miles away and only true contact you would have with him was during your daily Skype calls. It warmed your heart to watch Harry get ready for his shows: he cracked jokes with his bandmates, planned his wardrobe for future shows, and shamefully whispered complaints about how the venues helpers left dried blueberries in his snack bowl. You settled in front of your laptop, adjusting your hair and tying the strings of your night robe into a perfect bow before logging on to Skype. You nibbled on your lips as you started the call, praying quietly that you would be able to keep your composure during the call. But from the second you saw that million dollar mark appears on your screen you knew that today's call was gonna be far more difficult than you had anticipated.

“There's my girl”, he held the camera close to his face a habit he had acquired after constantly imitating your habit during your dating period when you forced him to schedule facetime appointments in order to ensure you were always looking you're very best. “Hows my favorite girl day been”

“ Well I was able to pick up some overtime at the office which is always good and my supervisor has been actually listening to my ideas during the board meeting, I really hope that means my manager will final-”

You stopped yourself as the rustling in Harry’s background seemed to overpower your rambling, Harry took notice of your quietness “Oh I'm sorry baby, give me a second. Just wanted to go to the bathroom to get ready, but I’m taking you with me. Wanna hear all about how you got Julia Brown to get her granny knickers out of a bunch”

You couldn't help but chuckle, your cheeks warmed a bit as a smile spread across your face. That was one thing you always appreciated about Harry, he truly did care about every detail of your day and don't want to miss a beat in any story you told.

Harry placed his camera down, allowing the wall to act as a support to hold up his phone before closing the bathroom door behind him. This is the part of your call you always enjoyed, it was your chance to finally see the suit he was planning to wear for the night.

Harry finally appeared on your screen and your jaw immediately hit the floor. He was literally mouthwatering, the thin stripe suit paired perfectly with the cropped jacket and the custom Calvin Shirt he had been bragging about during your previous skype. Harry sense of style had always been a point of attraction for you and he certainly did not fail with this outfit choice.

“Earth to (Y/N)...” “Baby”

The loud bang from Harry's brush hitting his sink was enough to snap you out of your drooling and unconscious state.

You immediately sat up and readjusted yourself, “Huh.. what. Oh, I'm sorry babe”.

Harry let out a small chuckle,“Jesus, did the cat have your tongue or did you get cotton stuck in your ears?”.

“Nothing just miss ya is all… you look amazing tonight couldn't help but stare”, you felt your cheeks begin to blush with embarrassment. Despite being together for almost 4 years you still felt like such a little girl around Harry, always nervous to share your feelings with him because of the slight fear you had of rejection.

“Well, I may have something that can help you, ‘till I get home from tour. Go in the closet and look for a little black box”

You did as you were told, you made your way over to your shared closet and found the black box hidden snuggly between his old Doc Martens and you're worn out Converse. You returned to your seat in front of your laptop running your fingers over the velvet box.

“Open it, Peach”

You teeth tugged on your lower lip as you slowly opened the box, a gasp leaving your mouth as you finally saw the gift Harry intended you to play with. Harry left you a dildo. The more you stared at you began to realize far too many similarities between the toy in front of you and the cock you had been truly craving. From the veins to the softness of the skin, this had Harry written all over it in more than one way.

“Had it done ‘fore I left, just in case something like this were to happen. When I couldn't get home in enough time to please my girl”

“Well you're quite the forward thinker”, you whispered taking the toy out of the box. “But It's not you… could never be”

“Never said it had to be, ‘s only a temporary release until I can come home and pound into yen myself”, He twisted his ring slowly around his finger as he watched you untie your robe. “Promise to guide you all the way through Peach”

You positioned yourself so that your legs were spread wide, giving Harry a full view as you dripped lube over your clit. You swore you heard Harry let out a bit of cry as you wrapped your lips around the toy, coating it with your saliva as your wet lips wrapped around the tip before you began to slowly bob your head back forth. Once you were satisfied you placed the tip of the toy at your entrance, teasing yourself as you slide the tip between your folds just as Harry would do.

Small moans escaped your lips as you dipped the tip of the toy into your heart, “Look at my sweet peach, miss me so much yeh imitating my actions”. Harry would be lying if he said that he wasn't amused, seeing you so desperate for him in person was overbearing enough but with the added distance it made him even harder knowing that he didn't have to be in your presence to make you wetter beyond belief.

“Don't disappoint Peach, go on now fuck yourself for Daddy”. You needed no other confirmation before pushing the toy completely into your heart, a string curses falling from your lips as you began to pump the toy in you.

“ ‘s good Peach? Feel good fuck yourself with my cock?Bet your thinking of what I'd be doing if I was there. Probably have my hand wrapped around that pretty little neck of yours, take your breath away while I pound into that tight cunt of yours.Would like that wouldn't ya?”

“ Yes yes yes yes”, You whimpered softly, resting your head on the back of the chair, pumping the toy faster into you. Harry's word was leading you closer and closer to your peak, he could tell you fondling your nipples and the repeated tremble in your legs.

“Is my pretty peach ready to cum for me ?”

“ Yes baby please let me cum”

“Tsk tsk tsk, I don't know Peach… couldn't keep yeh composure ‘till I got home and used me to get you to cum the right way”

You whined as you impatiently ground your hips against the base of the toy, you knew you needed Harry to get you to cum otherwise it would never feel the same.

“Need ya to tell me you can't come without me or I may have to leave you early”, Harry teased as he ran his hand over his thigh

“Daddy please I need you to cum, your the only who can make cum please please please let m I need it, Daddy!”, you pouted as you roughly pounded the toy into you, hitting your g spot perfectly each time drawing you closer and closer your orgasm.

“Such a naughty peach, cum for me baby”.

And with his blessing you finally reached you high, clutching on tightly to the arm of your armchair tightly as your legs shut closed with screams of Harry's name bouncing off the walls of your room. Once you came down from your high, you lazily opened your eyes to see Harry panting just as harshly as you- know he was the one drooling over you. The two of you sat there in content silence until Harry heard a knock on his door, confirming it was 5 minutes until showtime.

“Gotta head on now Peach, but I'll make sure to check up on yeh before you go to sleep”

Too tired to respond, you simply blew a kiss and waved goodbye to the camera which he happily caught before doing the same and ending the call. Leaving you lying there breathless but beyond satisfied.

Once you finished cleaning yourself up and settling yourself in bed, you scrolled through your Instagram feed aimlessly. You were interrupted when you received a text from Harry

“I think I'm gonna take an early flight home, I see now I can't leave my peach untouched for too long. Drives yeh too wild”

#mine #writings #harry #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurbs #one direction #one direction smut #one direction imagine #one direction preferences #one direction blurbs #harry styles au meme

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justwritingscibbles · 6 years

Text

Stress Leave

Fic Request: “If you don’t do fics for dr.iplier just ignore, but maybe he’s sad bc xmas is one of the most accident prone times of the year, I mean you’ve got dark and Wilford looking like they’re trying to do a 3 legged race with Christmas lights, Bing breaking the wires in his leg after trying to do a skating stunt for a xmas charity etc etc, and he never has time to himself or anyone to wish him a happy xmas, host realises bc narration and Iplier family thanking dr Iplier 4 everything and end togetherness”

I think I went a little off the request topic, sorry if it wasn’t what you wanted.

First Dark and Light had an argument. One that both started to show their under-layers of energy. Light radiated gold and white, while Dark’s blue and red shell began to crack. Something about how the decorations were set around the tree. It was a stupid argument, but their fights were usually over something stupid. Then you were caught in the powerful pressure building between them. Your mortal perception was ruined for the rest of the day, causing terrible migraines and both hot and cold flushes to run through your body. Dr. Iplier prescribed you the rest of the day in bed and appointed Host to be your sentry until you were able to move again. This then started up another argument between the two Ipliers. But it escalated into a fight that the two took into a place outside the mortal reality. Meaning no matter how much energy they threw at each other, nothing would be broken and your fragile state wouldn’t be further harmed. Light came back with many cuts and possible fractured bones in one of his wings. Where Dark was terribly burnt and covered in many bruises, sharing the same fate with broken ribs. Those two were also out of commission for the day once Doc stitched them up. Or at least taking everything slow and keeping a distance from one another. Then there was Bing, who came home with a large gash in his leg. Google had helped him home but he too suffered a few broken wires from a fall off a very large ramp. Apparently trying to stop Bing from going down said ramp. “But Doc! It was built up the side of a building!” Bing protested when Dr. Iplier tsked and scolded the bot for his foolishness. “It was a piece of artwork.” Google explained. “Made to allow the character Santa Claus to get off the apartment building more easily.” “If Santa Claus gets to use that ramp, then so do I!” Bing snapped stubbornly.

To say that Christmas was stressful was an understatement. It wasn’t uncommon for the egos to get into trouble or suffer injuries. But it was a time of year Doc wished they would at least try to be sensible. Or pretend to have common sense. The house was a mess and loud with the Ipliers’ rukus. The only relief Dr. Iplier got from the house was when he came in to check on you. Dark had placed a barrier around your room to stop any noise from disturbing you. While Light embedded your bed with warmth to try and ease the pains you were currently suffering. “The Host would like to suggest time away from the house.” Your temporary body-guard said with a tilt to his head. Indicating he was looking at Dr. Iplier and narrating his character. “Dr. Iplier feels the weight of many restless nights. Constant bickering and strain on his mind over his brothers safety. He could leave, and let them figure out their own precautions, or stay and keep them healthy. The Host would suggest this too. For he can tell that his friend is slowly falling into stress with the upcoming holidays.” Dr. Iplier huffed a humorless laugh, easing you to sit up and take a drink of water. It was difficult for you to do it on your own. The world was spinning and occasionally you didn’t know the difference between left and right or up and down. “If I leave, then this house would no doubt catch fire and our poor friend here would suffer that. Not to mention, where would I go?” He asked and Host lowered his “gaze” to settle on you. He could tell you were trying to say something, but your mind was too jumbled to speak. But he could hear your voice, though you were unable to vocally say anything. His lips twitch up a little and Host excuses himself from the room. He hurries into Light’s room, which was always unlocked if someone wished to speak with him. It took a moment but Host tried to speak as normally as he could. The Angel was still new to this house and Host didn’t want this to be misunderstood. “Host wishes to give Dr. Iplier his present early. The one (Y/N) and the other Ipliers have put into for the Doctor.” Light eased off the bed as gingerly as he could without moving his wings too much. He grunted and held his side as he nodded towards his desk. “Why? It’s not Christmas yet.” He said and Host looked around the room until his “sight” caught the description of the envelope. “(Y/N) suggested we give Dr. Iplier his gift early. He is stressed and needs a break from the other Ipliers.” Light hummed thoughtfully. Looking back over the last few weeks and only just realizing how much the Doctor had, not only been working at the office, but been taking care of the household. The Angel smiled and nodded. “I think so too. Perhaps we should have given him a longer vacation. He hardly gets a break these days.” Host agreed but said nothing as he hurried towards your room. His narration caught the irritation of Darkiplier as they both turned the corner towards your room.

“I thought we were giving that to the Doctor on Christmas.” Dark said as he looked down at the envelope in Host’s hands. Host shrugged and explained what you had suggested. To which, Dark nodded. His own realization blooming. “Perhaps it is best. I’ll tell the others.” Dark heads off as Host slipped into your room. Dr. Iplier looked up, confusion coloring his face as Host handed him the envelope. “What’s this?” He asked and Host only smiled, indicating for the Doctor to open it. When he did, his eyes widened and he stood from the bed. “W-What? No! I can’t accept this. I have work. A-And I have to be here to look after-” “I’m sure we can handle a week or two without you Doctor.” Dark said as he opened the door to your room. He and Light stayed in the hall, but the rest of the Ipliers filed in. Looking a little sheepish but grinning broadly. “Yeah, Doc. We’ll be fine. You’e definitely earned some time off.” Bim beamed. “Not to mention it’s in Wilford’s name so you could spend as much money as you like at the resort.” “Go nuts, Doctor-Doo. Take vengeance for all the times you’ve had to clean up my little accidents.” Wilford said with a twitch of his mustache. “You mean all the bullet holes you’ve stuck into me and Jim?” Jim grumbled, and his brother nodded in agreement. “Little accidents my ass.” Doc didn’t know what to say. There was a pamphlet in the envelope and the resort looked beyond expensive, but very, very luxurious. He hesitated, unable to speak so Dark spoke for him. “You’re going. I’m driving you there myself and when (Y/N)’s better, I’m sure they’d be dragging you into the reception.” You managed a ‘yep’ to Dark’s words and everyone in the room chuckled. “A-Alright, alright. I’ll accept it.” Dr. Iplier said with a shy, but excited grin. “But I am not coming home for anything other than death or emergencies.” “We’ll try to behave.” Light replied with a smile. “Or at least, in our sense of behave.” The rest of the group nodded. Smiling broadly and more then happy there friend was finally getting some well deserved rest. “Now that’s done, do the rest of us get to open a present too?” Wilford asked with a childish whine to his tone. “At least one? The Doc got too.” “That seems fair!” Yandere chirped up. “I want to open a present from Senpai!” Everyone looked at Yan suspiciously. This was never a good time when he had eyes for someone. And it was even worse if he had affections for an ego. “Wait, who’s your Senpai this week?” Jim asked and Yan pointed at his brother. Who paled and his eyes widened. “Oh god, please no. Is it because I let you wear my jacket? You said you were cold!” Yan turned a dark red and looked down at the ground. “Y-You were really nice.” Jim groaned and his brother patted him on the shoulder. Looking not at all sympathetic. “Sucks to be you, Jim” “Bite me, Jim.” Light quickly stepped in and guided Yan out of the room. “One present each, ok? If I see anyone opening a second I will take all their presents away.” There was chorus of groans and whines from the Ipliers as they shuffled out of the room. Leaving you, Host and Dr. Iplier in the empty space. “Host would like to inform Dr. Iplier that it was (y/n)’s idea to get you a reservation. The others followed through with it.” Host said with a small smile before exiting the room to join the others. Dr. Iplier smiled and touched your hand gently. Which you smiled and squeezed, letting go when the Doctor got up to join the others. He was excited to see Yandere’s reaction to Jim’s present.

#dr. iplier #iplier egos #markiplier ego #christmas stuff #x reader #a little fluff #dr. iplier x reader

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pinknerdpanda · 6 years

Text

The Grinch

Word Count: 2360 (including lyrics - italicized below) Characters: Sam x reader, Dean Warnings: canon-level violence/gore Requested by: @roxyspearing

A/N: This is a full blown fic and I’m not sorry about it. I had this idea before I got Roxy’s request and so I was glad to get to write it. I hope you don’t mind I veered slightly. This was written for my Merry Manda’s Panda Presents celebration. Beta’d by @hannahindie & @wheresthekillswitch

Merry Manda’s Christmas Masterlist

The Grinch

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh come on. Don’t be such a drama queen,” I smirked up at Dean Winchester to find his face tinged a shade of green that manages to clash with his eyes. He clamps a hand over his mouth and turns away. I look back at Sam, his eyes sparkling in the morning sun as he forces down a grin. The local badge tends to get suspicious when they see a federal agent with a smile on their face.

He clears his throat. “Ok, so, fifth body in three days. All with their hearts ripped clean out of their chests.”

I prod at a pulpy red glob of heart meat with the end of my pencil.”I don’t know if ‘clean’ is the word I would use.” I scowl and lower my voice. “So what are we thinking, werewolf?”

Sam cocks his head to the side, his hair falling over the shoulder of his navy suit. His gaze roams over the bloodied remains of vic number five. He shakes his head. “I dunno. Maybe not. Werewolves usually eat the heart. Not leave it in pieces all over the ground.” He places his hands on his knees, pushing to a stand as he glances around.

A small crowd has begun to gather in the few hours since the body was discovered by a runner in the early morning light. A bewildered and exhausted looking deputy is trying to keep the onlookers from disturbing the crime scene. Dean strides across the clearing, one hand in the pocket of his suit pants and the other rubbing anxiously at his jaw.

“Talked to Paul Blart over there, and the coroner’s report came back just as they got the call for…” he gestures vaguely at the ground without looking at it. “Anyway, turns out that they were able to piece back about 87% of victim number one’s heart and the thing was three times the size of a normal human heart. What does that?”

Sam sighs and pushes a hand absently through his hair. It’s distracting as hell, but I do my best to keep my mind on the task. “I don’t know, man. I can check the lore, maybe call around and see if anyone has any ideas. One of you two should go talk to the family and maybe the other can scope out the home? See if anything seems a little off?”

I nod and look at Dean. “I’ll take interviews and you do the snooping?”

“Sounds good to me. We’ll regroup back at the motel?”

Everyone agrees and we head in the direction of our assumed tasks.

Three hours later

“Seriously, Dean, can you turn that down, please?” Sam’s voice is muffled as I approach the door of the motel. Of course Dean made it back before I did. I really shouldn’t have given him the easy job, but I felt bad for the guy.

“Honey, I’m home,” I drone, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Sam is bowed over three open books and a tablet, with his fingers jammed into his ears trying to concentrate. Dean is sprawled across one of the beds behind Sam, shoes and jacket off and his tie loose around his neck. He’d folded his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and his hands are folded across his stomach. The sound of the television all but drowning out his light snores. I toss my purse on the seat across from Sam, startling him. “Sorry, Sam.” I shrug out of my jacket and step out of my fed shoes.

“It’s fine,” his lips are pressed together, forming a perfectly shaped frown as he glances up at me.

The music from the TV is familiar and I start humming along.

You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch, You have termites in your smile, You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch, Given a choice between the two of you'd take the seasick crocodile!

The sight of Dean, fast asleep watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas twice as loud as necessary makes me chuckle. I pad over to the television and turn the volume down. Sam looks up as I move to sit in the chair beside him, relieved and grateful.

“Find anything yet?”

“No. I’ve looked through every book and database and there’s nothing. Every hunter I called is clueless.” He sighs and pushes the books back toward the middle of the table. He sits back, slumping low in the chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “How about you?”

“Well besides the fact that apparently all of them hated Christmas, no, not really. Nothing connecting any of the vics besides the MO.”

Sam frowns. “Hated Christmas?”

“Yeah, according to their friends and family they were real Scrooge McHumbugs this time of year.”

Sam stares thoughtfully at nothing, his eyes flicking back and forth.

“Talk to me, Moose. What’s goin’ on inside that head of yours?”

Sam rolls his eyes almost imperceptibly, but his dimples deceive him. “Well, it’s just,” he starts and stops again. “Dean found one of these buried in shopping bags at the three of the vic’s houses and two of their cars.” Sam passes over a crumpled fast food bag, a large greasy spot taking over one of its sides.

I give Sam an incredulous look before opening it. Inside, five round Christmas ornaments lay nestled in the bottom of the bag, each one red with intricate gold detailing. I remove one, holding it carefully in the palm of my hand. Sam continues.

“If they all hated Christmas so much, why were they hiding these?”

I tilt my head from one side and then the other, looking at it from all sides. I don’t know what makes me do it, but after a few long seconds, I pick it up and shake it tentatively. At first there’s no sound of anything inside, but I shake it once more, this time closer to my ear. There’s the faintest hint of something moving around inside.

I stand abruptly, and, slipping on my Fed shoes again, fling the door open and step outside, silently. As Sam follows me out the door, I toss the ornament on the pavement. It shatters immediately and Sam starts to protest, but his words are cut off as we both see the small leather pouch now covered in shards of glass.

I kneel down, pick it up and unwrap it. “Looks like a peppermint, a piece of tinsel, a leaf of some sort and a tooth?” I hold my palm out, letting Sam examine the contents.

“I think...is that…?” He plucks the leaf from my palm, taking a cursory sniff. “It is. It’s mistletoe. What the hell?”

“It looks like a very festive hexbag,” I offer, surprised when Sam’s eyes widen, the gears all clicking into place.

“It’s a witch.”

-----

“I friggin’ hate these places,” I moan, desperately trying to dig in my heels as Sam ushers me across the parking lot.

“You were the one who insisted we play rock paper scissors to decide who plays decoy,” Sam’s voice is low.

“Right!” I snarl, whirling around to face him. “This is because I didn’t catch the fact that they all had the same dentist. I said I was sorry.”

He smiles, placing his hands on my shoulders and giving me one of those looks that makes my insides feel like they are trying to become my outsides. “You know that’s not it. I wouldn’t have thought to check that.” He’s lying through his gorgeously perfect teeth, but I appreciate the effort. “This is the only other thing connecting the five victims. You can do this. I’ll be in the waiting room, Dean is pulled around back. We just have to play spot the witch and we can gank it and be done. Okay?”

I sigh and nod, allowing him to turn me around. For good measure, I clutch at my jaw and moan softly in pain as Sam throws open the door and we step inside. The waiting area is small and sterile with a few neat chairs lining one wall. In one corner stands an exquisitely decorated Christmas tree, each branch almost shimmering in the glow of the Christmas lights. A woman with a square face and large, coke bottle glasses peeks up from behind the reception desk.

“How may I help you?”

“Hi, I called earlier,” Sam lays on the charm. “My girlfriend thinks she’s broken a tooth. We have an appointment for Luwho. Cindy Luwho.”

She clicks and taps for a few seconds. “Ah, yes I see. We have some paperwork to complete…”

“I’ll take care of it,” Sam interrupts. She looks put off by his insistence, so he smiles extra broadly at her. “I just hate watching my girl suffer, so if I can get her back to see the doc pretty quickly, that would be great.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m settled as comfortably as possible in the awkward half sitting, half lying down chair when the door behinds me creaks open. A petite, but handsome man comes into view. His smile is whiter than the snow I keep waiting to fall and there’s a faint tinkling of bells that I can only assume is coming from the brightly colored festive Christmas sweater covering his narrow chest.

“Hello, I’m Ted,” his voice is warm and friendly and reminds me faintly of music. “I’m gonna get your pearly whites all shiny and ready for the doc to come in and have a look!”

I force a smile and lie back, allowing him to poke and prod to his little festive heart’s desire.

“Are you all ready for Christmas?” His eyes glitter with excitement as he presses the electric toothbrush to a molar. I shrug and his face darkens faintly. “Oh come now, don’t tell me you’re a big ol’ fun hater!” He frowns in a mocking way and I resist the urge to punch him in his perfectly straight nose. I try to respond, forgetting for a second that Ted’s gloved hands are nearly wrist deep in my mouth. I end up sounding vaguely of a wookie.

“Well, Christmas is just my favorite. All the jingle bells and Christmas cheer?” His smile is back and has a leering quality to it. He sets down the toothbrush and begins rinsing my mouth and sucking the extra liquid with an uncomfortable squelching sound from the sucker tube. “It’s just to die for!”

A knock on the door halts my response. A beautiful, young female in a pair of blue scrubs sweeps in, smiling. Ted stands, bumping me in the head with a hip as he moves to the door.

“Hello, Cindy. I am Doctor Suze. Let’s have a look at those chompers, shall we?”

I cringe as she places the metal instruments in my mouth. Examining every nook and cranny, she checks each tooth silently, she sits back, her eyebrows creased in consideration of the facts presented to her.

“Everything looks good, Cindy. I don’t see any kind of breakage. You may have just bitten down wrong. If it keeps hurting you can come back in a week.” The door creaks open again just as she moves to stand. “I’ll make sure Ted here gets your goodies. It’s pretty standard, a toothbrush, some toothpaste, mouthwash. Oh and, Mr. Merry Christmas himself has made a slew of handmade ornaments to give to all the patients!” She smiles brightly just before she disappears from view.

I stand abruptly as Ted’s face comes into view, his smile a little too merry for my liking.

“Actually, you know what, Ted? I think I’m good, I’ll just be on my way…” I push past him and practically run out the door. Before I can make it three steps into the hallway, a hand grips tightly onto my hair, yanking me backwards.

“You think I don’t know why you’re here?” Ted’s toothy grin is unsettling as he shoves me back in the room, slamming the door closed. “I can spot a hunter a mile away.”

I scream as loud as my lungs will allow and he slaps a hand over my mouth. I jerk my elbow back, aiming for the spot just under his ribs and kick behind me, hard, landing the heel of my boot squarely on his kneecap.

He cries out in pain, releasing his grip and crumpling to the floor. I pull my gun from where it’s holstered under my left arm. He sneers and chokes out a laugh between anguished moans.

“Oh honey. You think that’s gonna work on me?”

“I mean, it’s worked on every other witch I’ve killed,” I shrug. “Witch killing bullets and all. So what’s the deal. Why are you killing these people?”

He hesitates, and I can see him weighing his options. Finally, he sighs. “I miss the good old days, ya know? It used to be, people looked forward all year to Christmas. There was a magic to it. And now, it’s like the magic is gone. I mean the commercialism is bad enough, but so many people just hate Christmas. It makes me sick. Santa always said the times were changing, but I never listened.”

“Santa?” I scoff. “Like ho, ho, ho. Big fat man in a suit…”

“You hold your tongue. People like you don’t deserve to have his name in your mouth. You can’t imagine the turmoil he’s experienced all these years. The number of people who believe are at an all time low, and that’s why elves like me are getting laid off, left and right.”

“Wait, so you expect me to believe that, not only is Santa real, you used to work for him as an elf? And what? You get laid off and take up a new hobby? Witchcraft.” I can’t help but laugh. The whole things sounds so absurd. This must be how people feel when Sam gives them his “monsters are real” spiel.

He senses the distraction and raises a hand. However, I’m quicker and I plant two shots in his chest.

“Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal.”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags - Stay weird. I love y’all: @wheresthekillswitch @pretty-fortune @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @deansdirtyduchess @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67 @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @almusanzug @feelmyroarrrr @captainradicalpassion @bethbabybaby @thinkwritexpress-official @akshi8278 @hexparker @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @atc74 @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m @easelweasel @masksandtruths @ellen-reincarnated1967 @growningupgeek @there-must-be-a-lock @sylverminx @mrswhozeewhatsis @amanda-teaches @cassieraider @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @its-my-perky-nipples @squirrel-moose-winchester @carryonmyswansong @sandlee44

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darkdrabblings · 7 years

Note

Did you know that it's actually possible to get pregnant with twins by two different fathers? This doesn't seem to bode well for poly mchanzo's s/o *eyebrow wiggles*

Ma’am. These were supposed to be headcanons. Now I’ve gone and written a whole 2,600-word fic about this.

Shit.

But to answer your question, I have read about that happening. It’s exceedingly rare, but honestly how rare would it really be if you had two burly, fertile men basically tag teaming you every night?

They’d be so excited when you finally started signs of being pregnant, between your irregular cycles and your morning sickness waking them up. They finally decided to check and make sure as you d your usual dash from the shared bed into the restroom to empty the contents from last nights meal.

Hanzo was the first one to assist you as you kneeled on the floor, softly pulling your hair back as a knowing smirk began growing on his face. Jesse came in shortly afterward to check on you, and Hanzo ordered him to run to the store and buy a pregnancy test.

You’d never seen Jesse get dressed so quickly, and by the time you finished, he was already out the door. Hanzo watched you as you brushed your teeth, trying to get the taste of bile out your mouth.

When you finished with that he approached you from behind, his left arm gently wrapping around your abdomen, pulling your back flush against his naked chest, and rests his chin on your shoulder.

You silently watched your reflections in the mirror as his tattoos began to glow and his dragons slowly appeared to curl around your waist as well, chittering to each other before making their way up your torso to whisper in Hanzo’s ear. After they’ve made their assessment, they retract back into his arm.

“It seems as if you finally succeeded in something,” he praises before kissing your cheek.

You feel like throwing up all over again when Jesse barges back in the room. The two of you around to face him as he stumbles into the restroom holding about half a dozen tests, his hat askew, and his shirt inside out. You laugh at the sight before you, making Jesse’s eyes light up, and Hanzo pulls you possessively closer to him.

You pull away from Hanzo’s hold and help Jesse place the tests on the counter before he turns you towards him to place a kiss on your lips. Hanzo comes up behind you and peppers kisses up and down your shoulder and neck. When Jesse’s hands begin to wander under your shirt, you finally decide to pull away.

“Maybe, I should take the tests,” you say while grabbing a random one off the counter.

“There is no need,” Hanzo said, his lips by your ear this time.

“Whaddya talkin’ about, Hanzo? Didn’t ya send me out to get these?” Jesse asked before taking your lips in his again.

God, you were going to throw up again.

“Yes, but while you were out my dragons made an appearance to confirmed what I already knew.”

“And zat would be?” Jesse asked with your bottom lip between his teeth.

“That our favorite pet is pregnant with my child,” Hanzo smugly said as his hands wandered back to your front, resting them against your abdomen.

Jesse releases his hold on you and steps around to face Hanzo.

“And what exactly makes you think that it’s yours?” he demanded.

“As I said before, McCree, my dragons told me.” Hanzo let go of you as well and turned around to face Jesse.

“As if I’d trust the diagnosis of a couple of blue lizards.”

You rolled your eyes as Hanzo opened his mouth to yell when you stuck a test in between them.

“If the two of you wouldn’t mind taking your bickering into the next room. I’d like to see for myself,” you said as you began to push both Hanzo and Jesse out.

You could see Hanzo begin to get upset but Jesse at least Jesse understood and grabbed him by the arm to pull him out.

--------------------------

Ten minutes later and you couldn’t stop from crying as each test told you the same thing.

You were pregnant.

They’d succeeded in their fucked up plan to make sure you wouldn’t leave them. One of those psychos was the father of your child.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and you heard Jesse’s voice ring out behind it. “Everything okay in there, sweet pea? You’ve been in there for some time.”

You don’t bother wiping away your tears as you open the door. They’re well aware of your feelings towards this situation. Jesse’s in front as Hanzo peeks from behind him and you stare at them for a moment before telling them the news.

Jesse breaks into a grin as he leans down to pick you up bridal style, carrying you back into the room and laying you back down on the bed. Hanzo wears a genuine smile on his face as he looks down at you before facing back to Jesse.

“I told you she was carrying my child.”

“Now wait just one damn minute!”

--------------------------

They booked you an appointment with Angela that very same day too, and she triple-confirmed your pregnancy but did add in the fact that you were about 14 weeks along. She also scheduled you for your first ultrasound for the following week.

That had to be the longest week of your life. Between being immediately relieved from active duty by Jack and the constant arguing on whose child it is, they were slowly driving you mad.

Finally, the day of the appointment finally arrived, and you swear they were more nervous than you as they each stood on either side of your bed. They each held one of your hands tightly between there own as Angela spreads the cold gel on your stomach, making you shiver.

After a few seconds, Angela rubs the fetal doppler on your stomach, and the three of you hold your breath as a heartbeat begins to sound through. She smiled and started to point at the small blip on the screen that supposedly showed your baby, but she stopped mid-sentence, her head cocking to the side as she seemed to listen intently to the heartbeat.

“What is it, Doctor?” Hanzo asked with a worried tone as Jesse loudly swallowed and tightened the grip on your hand.

Angela suddenly broke out into a smile, and for the second time that month you knew that bad news was coming.

“Well it seems as if you’re in luck,” she proclaimed, “Looks like it's going to be twins!”

“You’re shittin’ me, doc,” Jesse said in disbelief.

“Nein. They’re not identical of course. You see here,” she says pointing to two different points on the screen. “They’re fraternal.”

Jesse and Hanzo were both speechless, neither saying a thing until Jesse broke out into a smile and began to laugh.

The room felt like it was spinning as you started to get nauseous again, and this time you were sure it had nothing to do with the twins growing inside you. Even though you were staring straight at the screen and hearing their heartbeats, you couldn’t stop the bile rising in your throat.

Hanzo broke you out of your train of thought as he kissed your temple. “Do you hear that, my pet? You’ve done so well.”

“Now, I must warn you,” Angela started again as she scribbled something in your chart. “Since you are in a relationship with the two of them....”

You almost laughed out loud when she mentioned the relationship but stopped when you caught Hanzo’s glare out of the corner of your eye.

“And the children are fraternal; there is a slight chance that each child could have a different father.”

There’s no way. This can’t be happening.

Now the room was spinning, and this time they might have suspected something was wrong when the machines began beeping frantically. Angela’s voice called out to you, and that seemed to snap you out of your trance.

You stared at her dumbfounded, hardly paying attention as Hanzo gloated over to Jesse on how it still counted as him being right.

“Sorry, Angela. I’m just a little surprised is all,” you whispered as you pulled your hands out of theirs when you heard Jesse’s tell-tale growl of annoyance at Hanzo.

“That’s completely understandable. I know it is a lot to take in. But, we probably won’t know for sure until the children are born. They could both very well still be the child of only one father.”

That didn’t make you feel any better.

“In the meantime, I'm going to put you on strict bed rest with this being your first pregnancy; I feel as if twins might be too much for your body to handle. So I want you hydrated and well-rested...”

Her voice faded out as you stared at the screen, watching the beating hearts of your children. Before you knew it, you were back in your room with both men always doting over you and fighting amongst themselves. Hanzo convinced that both were his and Jesse scoffing at every turn saying how it didn’t matter who’s children you carried because neither one of them was going to leave you anytime soon. That usually shut him up.

--------------------------

The months passed quickly, much to your relief. About a few weeks after your first visit you had begun to show rather quickly and just as the good doctor had said, it had put a strain on your body. You were grateful Hanzo and Jesse were with you, even if they didn’t give you a second to yourself. One of them always keeping an eye on you in case you tried to run. As if you could if you tried.

As the months went, you began to think that maybe it wasn’t all that bad being with them. Sure, they consistently argued over you, but they were so caring while you were pregnant. It almost made you forget on how they forced you into this sick “relationship,” and bred you like you were some prized sow.

But when you found out that you were expecting boys, they lavished you in so much affection and care that evening. Neither of them was shy on having sex while you carried one of their likely children and they didn’t hesitate on bringing you to the edge over and over again.

And even when your breasts began to get sore from the pregnancy, they made sure to take care of it. Each one latched on to a breast as they rubbed their hands up and down your stomach, feeling the life with you kick as they feasted on your warm milk.

Unfortunately, that didn’t last and the day finally came when you woke up in a wet pile with pain radiating from your lower back and abdomen. It must have been around 4 in the morning, but Hanzo jumped out of bed the instant you began to cry in pain. He knew it was going to happen any day now and he was packed and ready.

You managed to wake up Jesse by using his real arm as a grip, squeezing as tight as you could until the contraction passed while Hanzo grabbed the backs and car keys. Jesse just yelled along with you as your nails dug deep into his skin.

To say the delivery was smooth was a stretch. Your contractions were too close together by the time you arrived at the hospital so that the epidural would have been of no use. Jesse fed you ice chips as you squeezed his metal hand, while Hanzo dabbed at your forehead with a cold towel.

The doctor Angela had referred you to eventually arrived just in time as you got ready to push.

The first twin was the easiest, eager to be born. It only took you a few pushes before you felt relief when he came screaming into the world. As soon as the nurse handed him to you, wrapped tightly in a blue blanket, his chocolate brown eyes stared right into yours. You’d recognize that dark brown anywhere, and you didn’t need a test to prove that this was McCree’s son.

“Gabriel,” Jesse said as he pressed his face closer towards yours to get a closer look at his child, “I want to name him Gabriel.”

You were about to respond when another round of contractions hit, making you scream as the nurse quickly came to take Gabriel away.

The cramps hadn’t been this intense before, and now they were driving you insane. Hanzo came to your other side and softly spoke into your ear at what an amazing job you were doing, resuming the cold towel on your forehead. You sobbed as the pain lingered now, never fully going away.

“I can’t. I can’t do this Hanzo. It’s too much,” you cried out as they came back quicker than you expected.

“You’re doing well, my love. You’re doing so well,” he mumbles against your hair as the doctor tells you to push again.

You try to push, but you feel so spent from the first one, it’s not as simple, and you toss your head back against the pillows and yell in frustration. Everything is too much for you at this point. The doctor telling you to push, mixed with the urge to push, while cramps ravage your body is overwhelming. Hanzo kisses your forehead, ignoring the mixture of sweat and water on his lips.

“Beloved,” Hanzo speaks to you again. “I wouldn’t have chosen you if I thought you were weak.”

“I thought the dragons wanted me,” you scoff and tried to push again to no avail.

“The dragons work off of the emotions of their Masters. If they chose you, it’s because I deemed you worthy first.”

You turn to look at him in disbelief and just as you answer him, another chance to push appears, and you let out another scream instead, squeezing Jesse’s hand once more. Suddenly you feel Hanzo slip his left hand into yours as a blue glow appears beneath his shirt.

You feel a sense of calm wash over you, and you give one more hard push. You scream once more as muscles contract, and you finally feel that relief once more when the youngest one finally came into the world.

He didn’t cry, barely making a peep, as the nurse's weigh and measure him before handing him to you when they finished. You finally released your hold on Jesse's hand and he took that opportunity to flex his fingers as he walked over to see Gabriel. Who was more than content on talking to himself as he tried to shove the entirety of his hand in his mouth.

Hanzo smiled at you as the two of you looked down at the youngest one. You smiled as well when you noticed that had your eyes, nose, and lips. Hanzo reached out to cradle his head when his dragons made an appearance.

They slowly floated around the three of you, stopping every once in a while to smell and touch him. Finally, when they were satisfied, they disappeared back into Hanzo. You looked at him quizzically, but you knew the answer.

“What do you want to name him?” you ask as Jesse finally sits next to you, handing you the first twin.

“Jiro,” Hanzo says as he cradles his son’s head.

“Fitting,” Jesse responds while laying another kiss on your forehead.

The nurse comes back in after everything has been cleaned up to take the twins for their first baths. You see that the men are eager to go, but they don’t want to leave you alone.

“It’s okay. Go with them. It’s not like I can go anywhere,” you say motioning around.

They each give you a kiss, and you notice that Hanzo’s lasts a bit longer than usual, but you say nothing as they follow the nurse and close the door behind them.

You’re finally alone for the first time in months, and you can’t help but cry as you realize that you miss the warmth of their bodies already.

#ask #anon #my writing #Dark!Poly!McHanzo #DarkPoly!McHanzo #hanzo reader #mccree reader #Dark!hanzo #Dark!Jesse #pregnancy #s #i should be asleep #i'll add more tags tomorroy #and put it on AO3

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wordsofdemetria · 7 years

Text

Eye of the Tiger - Part 7 - Dantana

Santana POV

"San..." I heard Dani breathe out feeling her tug at my hair. I can feel her shiver under me as my lips trail over the spot on her neck that drives her crazy. I grunted as she pushed me back gently away from her neck. "Santana...please no marks."

"Well that's no fun..." I smirk, ignoring her eye roll so I can reattach my lips to the curve of her neck. I barely grazed it with my teeth before she pushed me away once more with a giggle. My heart raced at the thought of somebody walking in on us. The past few weeks have been filled with secret rendezvous in the janitor's closet like this. Not the most romantic place to meet I know, but the thrill of it fueled us to many MANY great hook ups in here so I regret nothing.

"I'm serious Santana, my dad will kill me. And then hunt down whoever gave it to me." She gave me a pointed look and I just shrug.

"Well he will be disappointed to find out I don't have a dick for him to chop off." That made Dani laugh harder. God, her laugh was so fucking obnoxious but it was quickly becoming my favorite thing to hear. She told me about his comment that first night we talked on the phone when I teased her for the bruise I left on her.

"I would love to finish this but I have to get going..." She whispered as she threw her braced arm over my shoulder to join the one already there. She rolled on the tips of her toes to give me a peck on the lips. I frown when she pulls away quickly and grabs her backpack off the floor. I can't help but grab her by the wrist to pull her back. I didn't want her to go yet.

"Five more minutes..." I mumble grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for more kisses. She moaned when I deepened it and smile into it. I can be very convincing.

"I can't..." She mumbled out, breaking the kiss. I groan at the loss of contact. "I have a doctor's appointment."

"Fine." I pout and unwillingly let her go.

"Don't pout. I'll text you." She smiled at me before giving me one more peck. Then just like that she disappeared and I was left in the janitor's closet alone. It was only then where the pool between my legs were apparent. Although I was frustrated as fuck I couldn't help but giggle as I pushed myself out of the closet. The irony is too much.

Dani POV

"OH MY GOD FINALLY!" I yell probably a little bit too dramatically but it felt so damn good to finally take off this brace. My dad and Dr. Fields laughed at me but whatevs. I was finally free.

"Don't get too excited yet Danielle, you still have some healing left to do so don't over do it." I feel my face eating grin drop at my doctor's words.

"But but I feel fine. My hand feels fine. I can go back to training...right?" Dr. Fields matched my frown.

"Not fully. But you can do some low intensity stuff. Just stay off your hand okay?" I sigh. It's bittersweet. I'm happy I can start a little bit of a routine other than running but I was hoping to be able to stat training again today. I'm going to lose all my technique if I'm away too long.

"Thank you Dr. Fields." My dad said for me as he motioned for us to go. There was an uncomfortable silence between us as we sat in the car on the way home. Things have just been weird with my dad. I feel like I haven't seen him a lot. He's been doing his training sessions without me which sucks but at least I had Santana to fill my time. I felt guilty sneaking her over while he was out but I was going mad being home all the time I needed the distraction.

"You have any plans with your friends tonight?" His voice felt loud against the silence.

"I gave up on my social life after my first week of being grounded." I mumbled back at him.

"Hmm...I thought you would jump at the chance to go out once your grounding was over but" he shrugged and my eyes widened. Wait has it been a month already? I can't believe I didn't realize it.

"Oh my god I need to text Rachel." I felt my dad chuckled beside me.

"And I was right." I roll my eyes as I send my text to Rachel.

Dani: FREEDOM.

Rachel: what? No more grounding?

Dani: my sentence is over!

Rachel: yay! Finally!

I was about to type another message to ask Rachel if she wanted to hang out but a message from the hot cheerleader popped up.

Pom poms: how was the docs?

Half pint: I got my brace off so can't complain

Poms poms: oh good. It was just slowing you down anyways

I bit my lip to stop the giggle but it just came out as a snort. I can't believe she just said that.

"What are you smiling at?" My dad raised an eyebrow at me.

"Um nothing..." I felt my throat go dry. Why am I such a horrible liar?

Half pint: fuck off I still get you off faster than you can moan my name. with or without it.

Santana: is that a challenge?

Half pint: honey it's a fucking fact

"Doesn't look like nothing." He mumbled back at me. I ignore him and turn my body away from him. I can feel his eyes on me as he drives.

Santana: we'll see about that. my parents are out tonight, come over?

"Dad, can I borrow the car?" I ask as we pull into our driveway. I can feel the struggle coming already. He rarely lets me borrow it.

"What for Dani?" He sighs as he cuts the engine off.

"Rachel wants to go to the movies." I spit out, hoping that my lie was convincing.

"Wow you waste no time do you?" He chuckled and I relax. At least he's in a good mood. "Can't Rachel pick you up?"

"Uh no, her dads are using it tonight." These lies slip off my tongue before I even realize it. I felt my heart drop seeing my dad cringe at 'her dads'. Is that how he would feel about me too?

"Fine but I want you home by ten Dani..." I immediately let my grin fill my face as I type a response back to Santana.

Half pint: address?

"Dani do you hear me? Ten o'clock. Not a minute later." I nodded with my face eating grin as I snatched the keys out of his hands. My vibrated in my hands with Santana's address.

"Yeah yeah, not a minute later...THANKS DAD." I throw my hands around him before shooing him off. I bite my lip as I start up the car, feeling the heat between my legs already as I think about Santana.

Half pint: see you soon

#dantana #dani who doesn't have a last name still #santana lopez #glee fanfiction #demi lovato #naya rivera #eye of the tiger

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searchlightsandhindsight · 7 years

Text

I finally saw the doctor today. It was a new guy, since my regular doc is on leave, and I’ve been feeling really anxious that it would be someone terrible and that because they haven’t met me before they wouldn’t really take me seriously. But he was really great. His name was Zoltan.

I started crying almost immediately. We talked about work for a while, about my relationship with M and about my collapse this summer. He asked a lot of really great questions, but I still struggled a bit with my replies. He asked about my therapist, her advice and opinions, and how I feel about her. We even talked about my family a bit. And then... I just told him that I’m trans. I cried a lot, and most of what I said was word vomit. I consciously avoided using the term non binary, didn’t specify my gender identity at all and he didn’t question me about it. All I told him was that I’m trans, have never felt female, that no one in my life really knows about it except my therapist, and that I want to start transitioning soon. I gave him permission to make notes about it in my medical records and now... it’s in there.

And I’m... he was so respectful about it. He said he doesn’t have much experience with this stuff, but he was still really great about it. He understood that this, in combination with everything else in my life right now, makes it really hard to focus on working full time, and that it impacts my ability of properly function in everyday life. He wrote me a letter for a 50% sick leave, valid from today until the end of April. And I feel so relieved because he was so understanding, because I wont have to worry as much about work and because I actually said those words out loud.

I took the first step today. I actually did that.

At the same time, I’m scared and I feel really guilty. I feel like my coworkers don’t really know what’s going on with me, partly because I’m pretty good at hiding it, and that they’ll question why I need time off work. Part of me also feels like I’m making things so hard on my boss and my coworkers. We’re already understaffed and I know this will make things worse. But at the same time, I’m so tired of feeling bad for taking care of myself.

My doctor encouraged me to talk with my therapist and try to figure out a way to come out to my family pretty soon. He thought it might be good, given that I already carry a lot of anxiety about it and that that anxiety will only get worse with time. I’m not sure I agree with him 100% that it would be the best course of action for me (I’ve thought about just starting my transition and then doing it once the physically changes kind of makes it come up more naturally). But I’m definitely gonna think about it.

Anyway. I’m gonna set up an appointment with him again at the end of April. He promised to read up on the steps and the proper procedure for initiating the transition process until then, so that hopefully he can then refer to the right place to get my evaluation started. He stretched that it’s going to take a long time and that it will be very hard, and I told him that I understood that completely. I told him how even though I lost all of my plans for the future last summer, I’m still trying to find something that will bring meaning back into my life. I told about wanting to go back to school and he seemed to like that.

I have the weirdest feeling in me now and I’m really glad I called out of work today. I have a headache from the morning of anxiety, the crying and the emotional exertion of having to tell him about everything, I feel a tiny bit dissociative, but at the same time things weirdly feel a bit more clear in my mind. I think I feel a little proud, a little scared, a little excited, a little sad.

This thing is happening. It’s gonna happen.

#personal

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ecotone99 · 5 years

Text

[SF] Vaporwave Therapy for the Weak-Willed... Or, simply: Stronger

Dallas folded the paper note back up and placed it on his night stand before falling to sleep. It lay there, next to him, all night. When he woke up, it stayed there on his nightstand while he took his shower, got dressed, and eventually headed to work. When he locked his door and closed it on his way out, the note was still laying there, a small piece of paper, folded in half.

His drive to work felt normal. Dallas got to be himself, play the soundtrack to his morning and let it drive him. He nodded his head and sang too loud with the windows down. He smiled out the window at the sun. Today would be different. He would make sure of it.

“Good evening, doctor!” Athena cheerily greeted Dallas as he walked into the lobby of the 91st floor.

“It’s the morning, Athena…” Dallas said, pausing.

“I’m sorry doctor, Daylight Savings Time always seems to throw my programming off, I will re-synch my internal clock to the company server’s clock immediately. Additionally, Mr. Fukunaga left a message on your voicemail approximately half an hour ago. I will make sure it autoplays as soon as you get into your office.”

“Thanks Athena, do you know when my first appointment is?”

“Ahh yes, doctor, your first appointment is… No wait, that is Doctor Horvath… Hmm, that one as well… It looks like he is actually taking three this upcoming hour, I had no idea how he plans to do that… Goldfarb, Dukes, and Kerfling. You don’t have one until 12 actually… However, I will make sure that you take priority on the queue for any walk-ins this hour as it seems that all fourteen of the other doctors are booked.”

Dallas momentarily clenched a fist that he released instantly. Today wouldn’t be like yesterday.

“Thank you, Athena.”

Dallas headed to his office, he hung his jacket on the hook behind the door as he shut it behind him. It was only a small space, an eight foot by eight foot square, but it was his space. And he had hanged up three different signed prints of the Simpsons, now on its 105th season. Besides, how many other precocious 26 year old Cyber Therapists had their own office? Probably not many. Dallas actually didn’t know. He and his friend Kit, who was also another therapist here, had both gone to school together. So, in this building, definitely only those two. The small office was cool.

Like Athena had said, Mr. Fukunaga’s message began to play as soon as he got to his desk.

“Good morning Doctor, this is your boss, Charles Fukunaga. Ahem, yes, well, after our conversation yesterday, I trust that you will be working your hardest this week to meet the expectations summary that I Net-Messaged over to you. I’ll be checking in with you later to see how things are going so expect another call. Fukunaga out.”

Dallas sat at his desk for a moment, staring at the blank spot on his wall between two of the Simpsons prints. One hand slowly clenched and unclenched over and over for a minute.

Goddamnit.

A short knock rapped at his door followed by the door opening almost immediately.

“Dallas, buddy!”

“Horvath, hello.” Why’d even you knock if you just planned on walking in?

“Hey, so are you coming to my party Wednesday night? It’s going to be at Dave and Buster’s! And I gotta tell you, I think I’m going to eat my own weight in cheese sticks!”

Be stronger.

“Horvath, look, I don’t want to go. So I’m not going to.” Dallas forced himself to look up from his computer and meet Horvath’ gaze. Horvath held it for a moment, he really did, but then he looked over at the Simpson’s print of them dressed like The Beatles crossing Abby Road. It was signed by former US President James Buchanan’s last living relative who bore no connection to The Simpsons but it was impressive all the same.

“Dallas, buddy, look you gotta come! If you don’t then Kit won’t and if Kit won’t then Jaime and Alex won’t! Please! It is my birthday.”

Get what you want.

“Horvath, you have three clients coming to see you in 15 minutes.”

“Oh yeah, you’re trying to pick something up from the master, eh? Alright, I’ll let you in on how I run it, I give them each 17 minutes and I count their time in the warm-up chamber and their times in the cryonics bath all as a part of the appointment. I only spend a little more than a quarter of an hour on the holo-therapy for each of them. Pretty sweet scam, huh?”

“No, I can’t imagine the Ethics Department for Fukunaga Mental Health and Ameridata would be happy about something like that.” Dallas had trouble pacing himself here, “I want you to transfer Kerfling to me. Tell her that you messed up the schedule and that you need me to substitute. You do that and then I’ll go to your party. See, we both win.”

“You… Dick!... Fine. But not cool and you’d better bring a gift!” Horvath huffed as he slammed the door behind him.

“I won’t.”

Dallas exhaled deeply, relief jetting through him, racing against the impossible pace of blood pumping alongside it. It had worked. He had worked. It was working! He had already gotten more than what he had started the day with!

Dallas hit down on the intra-office page system, “Athena, when Mrs. Kerfling gets here, please just go ahead and page me when you set her up in a therapy chamber. Dr. Horvath realized the mistake in his over-booking and requested my help with handling some of his workload.”

“You got it, Doc!” Athena said back cheerily.

Dallas pulled up Grandiana Kerfling’s file on his Data-Net and reviewed it while he headed upstairs to one of the Holo-Therapy rooms. Being careful while winding his way through the labyrinthine office halls to make sure he avoided the anti-gravity wing. Even though the zero-grav environments were supposed to be contained to the pods, he swore he got nauseous every time he walked by. He signed in on Suite 14 and made ran some pre-diagnostics to make sure all of the modules loaded up correctly. Everything booted up fine, even the premium add-ons.

Dallas’ Data-Net activated a notification alert, it wasn’t Athena, it was Kit.

“Just saw Horvath and he was throwing a tantrum at one of his patients. What a baby.”

Dallas quickly messaged back so that he wouldn’t be looking at his Data-Net when Mrs. Kerfling arrived. “Yeah, I might have done that, I’ll tell you more later.”

The page from Athena popped up and Dallas dismissed it before snapping his Data-Net shut. Moments later, Grandiana was vogue-ing her way through the security checkpoint. Dallas greeted her politely, despite the fact that she seemed nonplussed about the change in therapists, and then ushered her into the Holo-Suite but he waited to engage the holograms.

“So, Grandiana—”

“You may address me as Ms. Kerfling, Doctor...?”

Decide right now, Dallas, decide to take what you want.

“You can just call me Dallas, and I hate to be the one to tell you this, Grandiana, but if you keep me at arm’s length then the therapy just isn’t going to be as effective. Now, I can call you Ms. Kerfling but you need to ask yourself how much you will really get from this session if you are so guarded.”

“Yes Doc… Yes Dallas, I’m sorry, Grandiana is fine… I just, I’m just not used to seeing anyone but Doctor Horvath.”

“That’s ok Grandiana, I understand that, but I was looking at your file and to be honest I feel like you were being slighted by Doctor Horvath anyway. I feel like you’d be much more receptive to the Dragons and Elves scenario so for this session I’m actually going to give you a free upgrade over your standard Castle Siege scenario. It is skews a little more towards fantasy then you’re used to but after reading your file I am sure that you’re more than equipped to handle the nuance of this kind of therapy. It might leave you a little more drained than usual but we will worry about that after the session, alright?”

“Oh my, Doctor Horvath has never taken this much interest in our sessions, I actually do think I am more excited about this… Very well then. Let’s run the scenario! I want to keep my sword from the Castle Siege Scenario though!”

“Absolutely, Grandiana, I can make sure that Scarblade is in the Dragons and Elves Scenario.”

“Wow, Dallas, you really did read my file, didn’t you!”

“I sure did!” Dallas chuckled as they engaged the scenario.

An hours and fifteen minutes later, Dallas had let the session run on long for a couple of reasons, the two stepped out of the Holo-Suite. Grandiana was actually out of breath but her expression read of exhausted contentment.

“That was fantastic Dallas! I thought the goblins had us for sure! What a relief it was to find out that Scarblade actually had a flame enchantment the whole time! I gotta say though, I am beat. Do you think it would be ok to schedule some extra cooldown time in the cryonics bath?”

“I won’t lie to you Grandiana, it will tack more onto your bill but as your therapist I would absolutely recommend it as well. It is good to be able to fully relax and decompress in an environment like that after all the action that you just experienced.”

“You know what, I actually don’t mind at all, sign me up for a double cryonics treatment! And while you’re at it, schedule me another appointment with you next week! I want to keep running the Dragons and Elves scenario and you’ve proven to be a much more capable therapist than Doctor Horvath!”

“I’d be more than happy too, Grandiana.” Dallas said, sending her into the cryonics room while totaling how much more the commission for all of that was going to look on his numbers. Just today’s double cryo would be a sizable increase in his numbers from last week! Horvath was an idiot, Grandiana was a whale and he wasn’t doing his due diligence to service her enough. He deserved to have Grandiana poached out from under him.

Dallas pulled out his Data-Net and saw that Kit had messaged him:

“Hey, meet me in the cafeteria for lunch after your next session! Just had the wildest experience with Chubbs!”

Chubbs was the nickname that Kit had for one of her patients who was not overweight (so the nickname wasn’t insensitive jeering). Chubbs was obsessed with Carl Weathers’ character from the Adam Sandler cinematic universe, Chubbs Peterson, the one-handed retired golf pro. He had only appeared in two films, Happy Gilmore and Little Nicky (the second appearance was really only a cameo) but Chubbs (real name Carl Dagonovich) was completely fixated. Every session with that guy was a scene-for-scene retake of Chubbs Peterson’s cinematic chronology. It hardly seemed therapeutic but the business of mental health takes many paths.

“Wildest Experience With Chubbs sounds like the title of an overly-produced porn… So yeah, obviously I need to hear about this. I’ll meet up with you in about an hour and a half!” Dallas messaged back.

Dallas coded his notes on his session with Grandiana Kerfling while waiting for his next patient. But he kept glancing down at his Data-Net the whole time he was typing up the report. When Kit finally responded he spun his chair completely away from his desk to read her message.

“Wildest Experience With Chubbs is also sadly the story of every time I’ve ever masturbated in front of a mirror but PIZZA JUST TASTES SO GOOD!” Kit messaged back.

Athena sent Dallas a page, notifying him that his next patient had arrived. Dallas started walking towards the Holo-Therapy Suites but he didn’t look up from his Data-Net, he just walked while typing a reply.

“Ewww… Why are you tasting pizza while masturbating in front of mirrors? Listen, if you ever need to talk about anything… I’d actually recommend you speak to Doctor Horvath because that guy is like, real good.” Dallas chuckled to himself as he typed it out.

“I meant pizza in the royal sense, stupid, obviously I don’t eat pizza while masturbating. I eat pot roast because I am a class act.”

Dallas stopped in the middle of walking to let out a short chuckle at Kit’s response. He smiled as he began typing back.

“Yeah, well have fun with your royal pizza or whatever you are doing with it, I’m about to start a session.”

Dallas snapped his Data-Net shut and watched his next client stalk through the security post. Daisuke Hernandez was a complicated man and Dallas hadn’t quite pinned him down yet but he was able to get along with him well enough to sell him a premium scenario for every visit.

“Darasu-San.”

“Hernandez-San, I trust you would like to run the same scenario today? Samurai and Banditos fight off the Giant Killer Praying Mantis?”

“Hai.”

“Sounds good, I’ve got a lot planned for you, I think we’re going to make some real progress. Who knows, by the end of today’s session, I might even upsell you from your usual zero-grav pod to a electrolysis massage for your decompress and debrief regimen.” Dallas said as they went into the holo-therapy room.

An hour and two minutes later and Dallas had done exactly what he had set out to do. Dallas had filled the scenario with so much nuance and subtlety Daisuke agreed to the upcharge. Another sale, two in one day for Dallas was unheard of. This was his personal best. All because he was strong enough.

Dallas checked his Data-Net once he had sent Daisuke Hernandez on his way. He had a message from Kit that was just a pot roast emoji and he grinned at that. Another message from Athena told him that he needed to call his boss back. The grin faded slightly, but only slightly. Mr. Fukunaga wasn’t so bad, really. His advice seemed to really be helping.

“Hey, I’ll meet up with you in ten minutes, I just have to make a real quick call!” Dallas messaged Kit as he rushed back to his office.

Once he was situated he initiated the call with Mr. Fukunaga.

“Ahem, hello? Who is this?” Charles Fukunaga demanded.

“Yes sir, this is Dallas, the doctor from Branch 7 that you spoke to yesterday, I was returning your call.” Dallas responded hastily.

“Yes! Dallas! Well, yes, fantastic! I was just looking at everything you’ve accomplished today! I swear, you’ve done better just this morning than you did all last week! I see you took my pep-talk to heart then, did you?”

“Yes sir, I—”

“Good, that’s good… Ahem, you know, the company, and by extension me personally, just want the staff of all Fukunaga Mental Health branches to be happy, comfortable, and loved! I want to make sure you are as fulfilled as you can be by working for us…

Can I get real with you for a second, Dallas? Just really real and raw and uncut? I want you to be really fulfilled! Just in every, ahem, EVERY way.

You know, I’m something of an older man. I’m hitting the ass-end of my fifties now. And I’ve started something new. I’m now the… well… I’m an active participant in a polyamorous relationship with two trans-women and a hyper-sentient android with three separate personalities. The six of us are very happy and VERY fulfilled.

I just, well, I just want to make sure that you are as happy as I am. I want you to find your polyamorous six-way! Do you have that, Dallas? Do you have somebody? Or five somebodies even?”

Dallas hesitated. For a lot of reasons.

“No, sir, I guess I can’t quite say that I do have what you have.”

“Well, m’boy, I want you, right now, I want you to really evaluate yourself. Ahem, and I want you to take that advice I gave to you and I want you to really apply it across every part of your life. You do that and I know that you will be the best Cyber-Psycho-Therapist that this company has. You’re good at what you do but I know you can be great at what you do. Now go back out there and do what you do! Fukunaga out!”

Dallas sat at his desk, staring at the blank spot on his wall between two of the Simpsons prints. It seemed endless in a way. It was so empty that it was able to completely consume him and remove him from the reality of the conversation that he just had with his boss. The blank spot was comforting for just a few moments. And then he remembered that he had just told his boss that he was alone. He told his polyamorous boss that he was alone.

Goddamnit.

“I’m on my way now… I’m… This day has been weird. Be right there.” Dallas messaged Kit.

When Dallas got to the cafeteria, he looked around until his eyes landed on a secluded corner with one solitary doctor eating her lunch. Kit’s hair was down, she was peeling a fresh orange, she was wearing the white lab coat that she swore made her look “more like a doctor”. Dallas had known her for so long and she had never looked better than right that moment. She was like if his eyes could drink hot chocolate.

Dallas grabbed himself a neon meal shake that advertised “all the power of lasers in one bottle” before sitting down next to his best friend. She told him about Chubbs, he told her about Horvath, Kerfling, and even Hernandez. He left out his talk with Fukunaga. She was so happy that he was getting his numbers up. She was always happy with him. Dallas liked to chase that feeling.

“You’re pronouncing that wrong.”

“What?”

“You’re pronouncing Chuck Palahniuk’s name wrong.”

“Bullshit, I watched the special edition blu-ray with commentary and Edward Norton prono—”

“Yeah, he pronounced it wrong too.”

“Well how do you know, genius?”

Do you have somebody? Or five somebodies even?

“Because I met him. He signed my copy of Choke. I asked him to write in the inside cover how to phonetically pronounce his name and he did. See, here is a picture of it right here.”

Kit pulled up a picture of the book on her Data-Net and there it was, plain as day. Chuck Palahniuk’s autograph right next a pronunciation key in his hand-writing.

“Wow… Ok, well that is wild.” Dallas said, incredulously.

“Yeah, well you should know better than to doubt me.”

“I didn’t doubt you… I was just hesitant to immediately doubt Edward Norton. He just seems so smart… Also, figures that you would have him sign Choke. I haven’t even read that.”

“Yeah, well I own a signed copy that I am not going to let you borrow so good luck never reading it.” Kit laughed, her eyes always shut when she laughed, it was this moment of sincere vulnerability any time she laughed. Dallas had learned to appreciate that. She was a licensed Cyber-Therapist, any of the smart ones knew to never be vulnerable.

You will get everything you want because decided to take it.

While her eyes were closed, Dallas leaned in and kissed Kit on her smiling lips. He felt her tense up for the fraction of a second but immediately relax as she kissed him back… for almost a full second before pulling herself away.

“Dallas, what the fuck? I’m… I’m… you can’t do that! You know I’m with Jiro!” Kit was blushing, her smile was down-turned into a scowl, and her brow was furrowed. Her tone was both panicked and indignant and… yes, angry. An individual’s whose career was based around interpreting human behavior might say that this was a wholly negative reaction.

Dallas began to feel shame injected into his face and neck and start to run down his back. He felt it seep closer to his extremities with each heartbeat until he finally felt it in his fingertips.

“Kit, I’m…” Dallas trailed off. He knew there were no words that could ever make this alright.

“Please don’t tell Jiro.” Dallas said numbly. He stood up and walked out of the cafeteria while Kit was flustering. She called after him but he kept walking. He went past his office, past the Zero-Grav Pods, past the Cryo-Bath Tanks, past Athena the android assistant, down the elevator, out of the building and began to walk home. There was no saving that situation. Probably.

Dallas, Kit, and Jiro had been friends for the last 15 years. They had gone to school together as three best friends until a year and a half ago when Kit and Jiro started dating. Dallas had never had a single romantic feeling for Kit for thirteen and a half years until she was with Jiro.

Why did I do that? That wasn’t strength… That was weakness. I am pathetic.

Dallas made it home when he realized his car was still at work. And that he was still supposed to be at work. And that Mr. Fukunaga had told him to get his sales up or he would be fired. And that… No. Nothing mattered right now.

Dallas lay down in his bed, fully clothed. His eyes landed on his bedside table where he had left the note. That note that Mr. Fukunaga had told him to write to himself. Back when Mr. Fukunaga was threatening to fire him still.

Dallas reached over and unfolded the note and read it.

“Tomorrow, you will be stronger and you will get everything that you want because you decided to take it.”

Dallas tore the note into pieces, rolled over, and began to cry into his pillow.

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jessjem777 · 6 years

Text

Rachel the fallen Angel

Rachel-Hmm So far i've saved Chloe/Max....Killed Jeffershit what should I do now...GOT IT well time to have some fun with him

Rachel then proceeds to her all seeing machine to play around some more

Satan- So who you Fucking with today Ms Amber

Rachel-God for the last time STOP CALLING ME THAT!!! and yes I am going to Fuck with someone sheesh

Satan- Also don't mention God in here goes both ways...Alright have fun

Rachel-What a prick

Satan- HEARD THAT

Rachel- Okay now where is he at?

Rachel- Ahhh there he is 1 Mr Nathan Prescott time to have some fun with him

Nathan- Fuck me why did I kill Rachel it wasn't my intention at all...WHY DID I listen to that Fucking weirdo perveted prick in Jefferson i'm sooo sorry Rachel I didn't mean to do it I know you'll never forgive me but please

Rachel- Well shit I didn't expect that guess he does have feelings I guess Jeffershit Fucked with him more than I thought this kid needs help badly

Nathan- I know it means shit now but man I wish I could take it back

Rachel-Yea it Fucking doesn't mean shit you cunt but I guess I can forgive you a little bit

Rachel...Hmm I wanna help him but I also wanna fuck with him at the same time....Eh why not both

Rachel then plays around with him by projecting her corpse on his tv with the words "You did this to me...WHY

Nathan-Fuck Fuck FUCK did I just see that? Please tell me I didn't just see that

Rachel- Oh don't worry you did

Nathan- Alright keep cool Nathan you've got this just stop smoking and relax you'll be fine

Rachel- I do feel bad for him buttt i'm having sooo much fun atm to stop

Nathan- Man that was Fucking weird why did I see Rachel's dead body with the writing "You did this to me....WHY" I don't get it

Rachel- That's only the beginning you poor little rich kid shits gonna get a hella of a lot more worse

Nathan- Shit I need to sleep now before more shit gets outta wack

Rachel- Oh you ain't escaping me that easy you prick

Rachel then uses her dreamscape powers to enter Nathan's dreams and Fuck him up even more

Rachel-Hello Nathan long time no see

Nathan- WTF are you doing here you're dead right?

Rachel- Yeah that's right i am dead all because of you and Jeffershit i've already taken care of him sooo i'm here for you

Nathan- Please PLEASE I know I Fucked up i've regretted it ever since just please don't kill me

Rachel- Why shouldn't I kill you give me 1 good reason why I shouldn't

Nathan- I know you wanna kill me which is fair enough I know I Fucked up badly....But I was being used by everyone i've ever known my dad, Jefferson, And who knows who else I always thought I was the good guy but my life has been Fucked

Rachel stares at him blankly

Nathan- Fine fine whatever you can kill me if you want just get it over with already

Rachel- I'm not going to kill you alright Nathan you need help and I know you were used and I want to help you

Nathan- Wha eh wha you're not gonna kill me? You wanna help me?

Rachel- Yeah I ain't killing you i've got Jeffershit burning in hell that's enough satisfaction for me atm

Nathan- Damn hardcore bitch

Rachel- the Cunt deserved it

Nathan- Ain't that the truth

Nathan- So how are you gonna help me specifically

Rachel- You need to help me help you

Nathan- And how am I meant to do that

Rachel- Get yo ass into any kinda therapy you can find try to get yourself a job or anything to keep yo mind off everything Fucking with you atm trust me it helps

Nathan- Alright ALRIGHT I get it i'll go tomorrow to find something

Rachel- Also Fuck off your dad you don't need his negativity in your life whatsoever just hang around with people who make you happy and want the best for you alright

Nathan- Got it I hate his guts my sister is awesome I can talk to her

Rachel- See great start yeah your Sister is a great person to speak to about this shit

Nathan-Yeah she is I miss her soo much but she's in a forest halfway across the world how much help can she be from there

Rachel- It doesn't have to be face-to-face it can be a phonecall an email anything just talk about everything/anything and trust me she'll help

Nathan- Shit girl you're damn Fucking right about everything how could I ever kill you the fact you're giving me a chance to redeem myself is amazing I dont deserve it

Rachel- you're right you don't deserve it but you've got it so make it count get your life back in order and be successful

Nathan- I promise Rachel I shall do everything I can to succeed

Rachel- Good now my job is done here I may drop in from time to time but i'm out for now

Nathan- Thank you Rachel seriously Thank you

Rachel- Just don't Fuck it up catch ya man

Rachel then leaves Nathan's dreams and goes back to her station in Hell and let's Nathan sleep

Next morning

Rachel- Wake up already sheesh you lazy prick "sigh" time for some improvisation

Rachel then starts using her powers to wake him up making loud noises and playing with the light

Nathan- Alright I get the hint i'm up i'm up

Rachel- Finally sheesh been waiting hours you bloody snore loudly as well { Man i gotta stop talking to myself}

Nathan- So today is the day I get my shit in order and take my life back Fuck everyone who's used me i'm being my own man now

Rachel- FINALLY!!! He's being a man not a spoilt little rich kid

Nathan- I HEARD THAT!!!

Rachel- Oops left the mic on my bad

Nathan then has a shower and gets ready for the day getting everything ready to try and find a job or anything

Nathan- Okay time to get my resumais in order

Rachel- Damn this boy is being productive never thought i'd live to see the day.....Oh wait

Nathan- Alright time to see who's hiring please just anyone

Nathan then goes looking around town and finds around 2/3 places hiring people but only 1 took his fancy

Nathan- This place looks alright photography shop I seem about right with everything they need in a worker see how it goes

Rachel- Please accept him please please please

Nathan then goes in for the interview and it all goes well

Interviewer- Thank you for your time Mr Prescott i'll give you a call within a few days

Nathan why thank you sir i'll look forward to it goodbye

Interviewer- Goodbye sir

Rachel- God please let him get accepted....WOW i'm even talking about god meh Fuck that guy

2 Days pass and still no word meanwhile Nathan is trying out new Camera angles and different photography style

Rachel- Man he's reall bloody good this place would be idiotic not to hire him

Then the phone rings

Nathan- Hello sir

Boss- Hello Mr Prescott you came in for an interview a few days ago correct?

Nathan- Indeed I did sir

Boss- Well I have the results here and i'm pleased to inform you that you've been hired you start Monday

Rachel- HELL YESSSSS!!!!!!!!

Nathan oh shit for real? Thank you boss I can't wait to start

Boss- WOW never seen anyone that excited aha all good mate enjoy it

Nathan- I won't let you down boss

Boss- I don't expect you to have a good day see you Monday

Nathan- Catch ya boss

Nathan- HOLY FUCK!!!! I have a job thank you god THANK YOU RACHEL

Rachel- Well I am god so you're welcome Nathan

Monday arrives

Nathan- Holy shit i'm nervous as hell how am I gonna do this

Rachel- Just relax you got this

Nathan- Just breath man...alright let's DO THIS!!!1

Rachel- Damn enthusiasm never seen it on him before

Nathan then enters work gets shown around thevjoint and is ready to start the day

Nathan- I've got this

Rachel- you've got this

Nathan goes through the day without a hitch and his boss is very proud of him

Boss- You did a great job today Nathan i'm very proud of you

Nathan- Thank you boss i'm glad you think so i was pretty darn nervous about it

Boss- Haha That's normal man but you'll find it gets easier with time

Nathan- Indeed boss well i'll see ya tomorrow then?

Boss- You betcha mate catch ya \

Nathan- See ya boss

Rachel- Well that was an successful ass of a day great job Nathan proud of ya

Rachel that's 1 thing sorted now for the other 2

Later that night Rachel enters his dreams again

Rachel- Hello Nathan

Nathan- Shit hello Rachel

Rachel- How ya feeling after today

Nathan- Bloody relieved guess you were right it does take your mind off shit

Rachel- Indeed it does man but you've got a job you're happy with which is awesome BUT you still have the therapy and talking to your sister to go through yet

Nathan- I'll call a therapist tomorrow on my break and my sis on the weekend

Rachel- Sounds like a deal just make sure you do it

Nathan- I will don't worry

Rachel- I'll be watching...Anyway see ya Nathan

Nathan- Goodbye Rachel

The next day on his lunch break Nathan calls up a therapist

Therapist- Hello how are you

Nathan- Hello my name is Nathan Prescott i'd like to book an appointment to see you soon

Therapist- Sure thing is 4pm tomorrow sound good

Nathan- Yeah it sounds perfect thank you

Therapist- You're welcome see you tomorrow goodbye

Nathan- Goodbye

Nathan- Well that's bloody brilliant news I get help i've got a job man all I need to do now is reconnect with my sister and all will be great again

Rachel- Cough cough welcome cough cough agh bad cough....What I was coughing

After work the next day Nathan goes to see his therapist

Therapist- Hello Nathan how are you going today?

Nathan- i'm pretty good Doc things have been looking up lately

Therapist- That's great to hear so what's changed

Nathan- Well my enthusiasm for life has changed i've dropped the toxic people from my life shit i've even got a job now

Therapist- That's brilliant news Nathan

Nathan- Indeed it is i'm gonna try to re-connect with my Sister again this weekend

Therapist- That's a great idea..But how are you mentally are you still relapsing or anything?

Nathan- Ever since i've had this dream where a spirit came into it and told me to get my shit together if you wanna live i've been bloody perfect I haven't been taking any drugs or any thoughts about it been taking my meds every day

Therapist- Holy shit Nathan you're progress in a short time is amazing to see...But what ya mean spirit?

Nathan- I guess I can only explain it as my guardian angel came to my aid

Therapist- That sounds pretty much right mate but that's all we've got time for you've made AMAZING progress lately Nathan but keep it going don't wanna relapse or anything

Nathan- I will doc nothing will stop me now and see ya doc

Therapist- See ya Nathan

On the weekend Nathan decides to try contact his sister

Nathan- I've tried calling her but nothing why won't she answer

Rachel- Probably has no signal she's in a bloody rainforest after all

Nathan- I'll just email her see if she'll answer in time

Nathan then types out a huge ass email telling his sis about everything that's been going on lately

Nathan- well that'll do I hope she sees it soon

Rachel- She Fucking better answer or i'll Fuck with her next

Few hours later of waiting for an answer he's finally got one

Sister "Hey Nathan, It's great to hear how awesome you're going now after everything that's happened i'm thankful you still remembered about your sister that means a lot to me, So you've got a job at a photography store that's great news, And you've dropped dad from your life tbh that's the greatest thing you could've done he's one toxic motherfucker why ya think i'm in a forest away from him, Anyway I gotta go now but I love you little bro and i'm soooo happy to hear your life has turned around for the better keep it up bro love you"

Nathan swelled up with tears, Love everything

Rachel- Aww seeing him this emotional is awesome he really does love his sister

Nathan- That's the greatest thing i've ever read man I love my sister

Nathan- Soo got a job TICK, Been to therapy TICK and reconnected with my sister TICK man i've done everything Rachel said I should do

Rachel-Indeed you have man I guess my work here is done

Until.....

Dad- How dare you betray me son betray the Prescott name you've disappointed me and trying to drop me from your life? How dare you son I raised you better than that

Nathan's heart sank when he read that message he didn't expect any contact from his dad he stood in shock not knowing how to answer

Rachel- Well i'll be Fucked the prick decided to make a visit as I left to go to the shitter FFS always happens

Nathan not knowing how to answer just took a deep breath and went for it

Nathan- Dear you miserable old cunt..Yes I am indeed done with your bossy ways your my way or the highway attitude...You never really cared what I wanted it was always what was best for you and the "Prescott" name well it's just a Fucking NAME and means shit all if you're the one behind it controlling it...You didn't raise me at aall my life was hell with you nothing you ever did was in my best interest EVER!!!!! So to wrap it up i'm done with you I hope you die alone you miserable ol cunt this will be the last you hear of me...Goodbye

Rachel- DAAAMNNNNN SON...Tell it like it is

Nathan then proceeds to block his number and everything so he can never contact him again

Nathan- WOW that's over with thank Fuck my life is actually in order now all thanks to you Rachel

Rachel- FINALLY!!!! Haha This has been great to watch his life

Nathan then has a nap and for the last time Rachel enters his dreams

Rachel- Hello Nathan

Nathan- Hello Rachel

Rachel- Seems my work here is done you've got everything sorted for the time being you don't need me anymore

Nathan- I guess I don't huh well it's sad to see you go Rachel...You've really REALLY helped me these past weeks I can't believe it

Rachel- Well you did as you promised and got your shit together that's all I cared for tbh

Nathan- So this is goodbye huh...I'm gonna miss you ya know

Rachel- I may drop in now and then we'll see until then i've got other people to Fuck with or help out who knows

Nathan- Alright then good luck with everythingand goodbye

Rachel- You too Nathan just keep doing what you're doing and everything will go great trust me...Goodbye

Rachel- Fuck sake thank Fuck that's done I really need a nap after this time to go home

Satan- Oh you're finally back huh sheesh take your time

Rachel- Shut the Fuck up Satan not in the mood

Satan- sheesh fiesty today alright see ya talk later

Racehl- Yeah whatever you say pal

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