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bitsandbobsandstuff · 5 years

Text

Right there

Summary: Love stories aren’t always grand, sweeping epics. Sometimes they come soft and slow, made up of a million different things, and you may not even recognize what you have until it’s right there in front of you. This is one of those stories.

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Brief mission related trauma. Oreo thievery and dirty bubblegum. Mostly just buckets of fluff.

A/N: Hello Tumblr friends! I’ve been in a writing drought lately and it feels like forever since I posted anything, so here’s a short, fluffy fic while I try to Stella my groove back. My plan was to make this snappy and snarky, but it went full scale mush by the end. Guys, I just really love Bucky Barnes. ♥️

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

“Right there. Do you see?”

The murmur is low in your ear. Smoothing the folds of emerald green satin, you follow Bucky’s glance down and see the tips of your freshly painted toes, clad in sparkly sandals and peeping from beneath the evening gown. Nothing out of the ordinary, until you notice one thing.

“Gross. What the hell is that?” you whisper.

Stuck like glue to the front of your right shoe, curling over the edge and dangerously close to your bare skin, is a piece of neon blue bubblegum.

Keeping one eye trained on the crush of inebriated party goers, searching out the mission target for the evening, you try a few options.

Scrape the edge of the shoe on the marble floor. Pointless.

Give a couple stealthy stomps. Useless.

Try to wipe it on Bucky’s trouser leg. Bucky sighs heavily and sure, that’s entertaining.

But no matter what you try, this appears to be the superglue of all gum. Bucky stares straight ahead, eyes roaming the crowd, but you see him periodically glance over, gauging your progress.

There’s no real harm, you can fix it later, but every time you shift your weight, the tacky feel of it sticks to the floor and makes a small snick sound. Like a parasite, the dirty, chewed up wad creeps further up the shoe, so close to defiling your pristine toes, and the whole thing is driving you bananas.

“Pay attention to the mission,” Bucky whispers sternly, but as of immediately, there’s a new mission in town. So, when your revolutionary idea arrives in a wave of brilliance, you take immediate action.

Nestled snug against Bucky’s lower back, hidden beneath his tuxedo jacket, sits his favorite knife. Without a thought, you reach up and tug it from the sheath, turning to face the back wall, balancing on one leg and gripping his forearm for support.

And then, frozen in shock, Bucky proceeds to watch you use his favorite knife - the one he sleeps with under his pillow, the one he keeps beside his morning Cheerios, the one he painstakingly sharpens after each and every mission - to dig at the dirty blue bubblegum fused to the bottom of your shoe.

“Disgusting,” you mutter. With a twist and flourish, it pops free and you fling it away, sending it flying into one of those tacky potted ferns by the bathroom. Smothering a laugh, you shoot Bucky a challenging look - and then slide the sticky knife back in the sheath.

You slide it back in the sheath without cleaning it.

Bucky grinds his teeth so hard his jaw locks up.

There is no earthly reason you should still be alive after this sacrilegious approach to basic knife protocol, but when he subtly leans over to voice his intense displeasure, he has the sudden desire to laugh.

“Everything okay, Barnes?” you ask under your breath, resuming your scan of the crowd. An insanely devilish grin tugs at your lips, and he huffs at the playful nudge of your elbow.

“Just fuckin’ peachy,” he mumbles drily, and then he marvels at the thought that follows.

Because right there, Bucky Barnes decides that maybe that proper knife etiquette isn’t all that important.

As long as he can see you smile.

*****

“Right there. Do you see?”

Bucky stands stoic at the open kitchen cabinet, pointing at the top shelf, his furious glare driving daggers into Sam’s heart.

“Dude, I swear I didn’t touch them.”

“You’re a lying liar who lies, Wilson.”

“Dude, I fucking swear. Get over yourself, damn.”

Sam stands with his arms crossed, an equally exasperated sneer on his face. Sitting on the couch, buried under a mountain of blankets, you watch with interest. Back and forth they trade barbs, a verbal tennis match full of snarky comments, childish quips, and the occasional mention of each other’s mom. Finally, Sam throws his hands up and whirls away.

“You’re fucking impossible, asshole.”

Bucky bangs the cabinet door shut and stomps over to you, plopping into an armchair to sulk. Smiling in commiseration, you stay silent, furtively trying to swallow. You’re so close to success, but then it happens.

No matter how hard you try, the crinkle of an Oreo package is too obvious.

At the sound, Bucky’s head snaps up.

“What was that?” he asks, suspicious. Eyes wide, you shrug in silent innocence. Bucky scrutinizes your pile of blankets, realization dawning. “Was that - did you steal my Oreos?”

Another silent, vehement shake of the head. You’re close, so close, just one more swallow -

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Prove it. Whistle for me.”

Damn.

When you purse your lips and blow, nothing comes out. Well, nothing except flecks of black Oreo crumbs. Swallowing the rest of the cookie, you fish out the bottle of milk hiding under the blanket and wash it all down, smacking your lips.

“Oh, sorry. Were these your Oreos?” you ask sweetly.

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek and tries to be mad, he genuinely tries really hard, but it doesn’t work. Launching himself from the chair, he bounces onto the couch next to you, sending your milk sloshing and you squawking in faux anger.

“You dirty little thief,” he deadpans, snatching away the package. Shoving three cookies in his mouth, he steals your bottle of milk and chugs it down. When he finishes, a white milk mustache is painted above his lip. It turns this dark man, someone with decades of gunpowder on his fingers and bloodstains on his soul, back into a young boy. Carefree and innocent, brimming with happy laughter. Swallowing hard, you reach over and carefully wipe it away with a firm brush of your thumb.

And right there, Bucky Barnes discovers the simple beauty of cookies and milk and the feel of your cool fingers on his skin.

*****

“Right there. Do you see?”

No. You didn’t. And that’s the problem.

Every blow of your fists unleashes something inside.

Smack, smack, smack.

Harder and faster, the punching bag absorbs all the pent of anger and lingering fury of a failed mission.

Smack, smack, smack.

It was so close. It was right there. You should have seen it. Should have remembered the bad guys never play nice, and the price of hesitation is a life. Memories trigger memories, sparking through your brain like a circuit board of bad decisions, lighting up one after another. Bucky stands on the other side of the bag, silently watching you pummel those demons trying to burrow into your skin.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly, and you frantically shake your head.

Smack, smack, smack.

Tears spill over. They blur your vision, turning the punching bag and the tall soldier holding it, into shapeless blobs. Blinking them away, wiping your runny nose on tape covered hands, the salt of tears and sweat drips into the busted-up gashes across your knuckles. It stings, a vicious reminder of what was lost. The scent of blood fills your nostrils and there are those memories again, a tsunami of pain barreling through.

Smack, smack, smack.

“Go away, Bucky. Leave me alone,” you snarl, aching arms still swinging at the punching bag. He ignores the request, a stalwart statue. It infuriates you in an unexplainable way and you spit the words in his face. “God dammit, fuck you, I don’t want - I don’t need - I don’t - I mean it. I fucking mean it. Please, just” smack “fucking” smack “go.”

Smack.

Like a booming clap of thunder, your last punch is so hard, it explodes the fragile wall holding the tears at bay.

Knees buckle. Shoulders slump. Fists slam the floor. You go down hard, and the result is devastation.

Ugly, wrenching sobs claw up your throat, stuck behind your clenched teeth until you open your mouth and howl. It hurts to cry this way, to let everything loose and accept the consequences of your failure. You will never save them all, and that clarity is a special brand of destruction.

Bucky says nothing. No words can solve this pain. No one knows that better than him.

Instead, he lays down on the sweat drenched mats beside you. Without a word, he wraps you into a hug, tucking you against his chest. Even if you don’t deserve this comfort, you cling to it. Clutching his shirt, the only lifeline you have left, you cry until that bottomless well of pain and misery finally runs dry. It takes hours, but Bucky is patient, never ceasing the comforting strokes up and down your spine.

And when it’s done, when your exhaustion leaves you unable to open puffy eyes, he simply lifts you up and carries you to your room. Places you gently on your bed and pulls the blankets over you.

“Bucky. Don’t go. Please don’t leave,” you beg hoarsely, and the misery in your voice breaks him. The bed dips as he climbs in beside you, wrapping you in his arms once again and you feel his lips brush your forehead.

The night bleeds into a dreary grey dawn, and right there, Bucky Barnes sinks into the comfort of a dreamless sleep, with you cradled tight in the heat of his arms.

*****

“Right there. Do you see?”

Eyes closed against the shining sun, you offer a sleepy hum. There’s a rustle of movement, and something soft tickles your cheek. It runs across your nose, touches your eyelids, sweeps light as a feather over your lips.

Eyes struggle open, and there you find Bucky watching, a little purple flower held in his long fingers. The look on his face is unreadable. He does that sometimes, looks at you like he wants to say something more, but he always hesitates, the words stuck in confused silence.

The petals wave faintly in the breeze and you smile.

“Pretty,” you say.

“Just a weed,” he shrugs.

“Still pretty,” you say. “Hand it over.”

Bucky places it in your outstretched palm. Gives a wry shake of the head.

“You’re the only one I know, who thinks weeds are beautiful.”

The small blossom sits thoughtfully in your hand and you hold it up, squinting to the sun.

“Just because something has a bad name, doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful.”

There’s a peculiar hope in Bucky’s face as he considers the statement. He likes those words. He likes them a lot. Wants to believe they might even include him too. But nervous silver fingers pick at the threadbare edge of the picnic blanket, and you see a shadow of self-doubt flit over his handsome face.

“Sometimes a weed is still a weed. Even pretty words can’t change that fact.”

The reference is clear. You know exactly what he means, because the list of negative metaphors Bucky uses to describe himself has grown extensive and colorful over the years. Rising to your knees, you shuffle closer until you’re facing him.

“Hey,” you say gently. Careful hands cup his face, the scratchy feel of his beard on your palms softer than you expected. “You better not be calling yourself a weed, Barnes. I’d hate to kick your ass out here in public.”

The shimmer of unshed tears in those blue eyes makes you ache for him. But when Bucky sees the determination in your face, he blinks them away. And like the little weed in your hand, a tiny smile begins to bloom.

He clears his throat.

“Kick my ass, huh? I’d really love to see how that goes.”

“It’ll go my way,” you say confidently. Picking up his heavy hand, you turn it palm up and peel his fingers back. Laying the purple flower in his hand, the vivid color glows against the bright silver. “See? Beautiful. Just like you.”

He stares at the flower. Looks up.

It happens right there, in the sun-soaked summer fields of Central Park; Bucky Barnes feels his heart stop at the taste of your kiss.

*****

“Right there. Do you see?”

Lost in thought, Bucky startles at the question.

Following the line of your arm, he sees you pointing into the infinite ocean of blue-black. Stars are speckled through the heavens, patterns of constellations and figures that you always manage see, but he can never seem to find.

Stuck in the middle of nowhere, the two of you walk along, miles from civilization. The first hint of winter settles all around, hard frost covering the tips of the grass, coating the pebbles edging the abandoned road, turning your breath to thick white clouds. It should make him anxious. Bucky hates the frost, despises the frozen blue that weaves maliciously through his worst nightmares.

But on this cold, moonlit night, with you warm by his side, he finds he doesn’t mind so much.

“What am I looking for?” he asks.

“Shooting star,” you say breathlessly. Tilting your head back, you go still, a beacon of patience awaiting a cosmic miracle. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

Bucky peers up at the sky, but as the minutes click by, he knows he’ll never find what he needs up there.

He turns to look at you instead. Watches you watch the sky, his chest burning with contentment at the sight of your profile in this moonlit night.

“Sure,” he says. “So beautiful.”

Gloved fingers find yours, and you turn your gaze from the infinity of space, to this man beside you, solid and real and here on Earth. There is nothing in the world but the two of you, nothing else matters as you move impossibly close.

“Such a sap,” you murmur, your mouth a mere breath from his. The tip of his nose is icy against your cheek, and you can feel him smiling as he returns the kiss with a shiver.

The world is funny. Because this - this is your love story.

Built on blue bubblegum and stolen Oreos, blood-stained bandages and purple flowers, shooting stars and an endless night sky, this love bursts with highs and lows and a million variations in-between. Wrapped up in the delicious comfort of your kiss, Bucky wonders what in the world he ever did to earn this.

This perfectly imperfect life. Here. With you.

There’s no real answer, of course. Love is like that sometimes.

So instead, he dusts off those three words from another life, ones he’s stored away for decades, and he hands them over, because they’re the one thing he can always see, no matter how dark his world becomes.

“I love you,” he whispers. “More than anything.”

The words are drenched in happiness, syllables shaped with a quiet joy that glows brighter and fiercer than every constellation hanging above. And in the space of a single second -

Your heart skips.

Your breath catches.

You swear you could fly.

Because this is it, this is the moment. This is the big one.

And that right there is when you return those three words, the ones Bucky Barnes has been missing his whole life and the ones you’ve held close, since the night you found that blue bubblegum tacked onto your shoe.

The words are perfect. You kiss him again.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bitsmasterlist

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alexlabhont · 4 years

Text

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Three.

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda, because I want to give you choice at some point. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one

Chapter two

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

——————————————————————

A truce.

That’s what she said she wanted and for a moment, all their fears disappeared.

“I really hate to admit this, but I personally asked for you to be my partner on this project. I'm familiar with your music, and I actually wanted to work with you.”

She also said. Beck didn't know how to feel, really. Poppy Min-Sinclair heard their songs, or, at least, she saw their videos.

And she liked them.

Or not? They never knew with her. She has been acting pretty weird these days. Giving them a “compliment”, smiling at them, asking for Beck to be project partners…

Open up with them.

That was beyond weird.

Beck couldn't stop thinking about what they saw back at the “Alpha-Zeta deluxe cabin” or whatever it’s called. Poppy really looked hurt… sad… like…

Like she has feelings.

“I don’t know, Beck. I don’t think is a good idea letting you guard down.” Zoey said, playing with their hair, both of them resting on the couch, Beck’s head laying on her thighs.

“Yeah, I get it. But…” Beck took a moment, remembering the sadness in her voice, the betrayal in her eyes… Did she really care about Chloe? “I wish you had been there to see it, Zo. It was so real my head exploded… Like... She was really hurt.”

“Babe, I know what you’re trying to say. And I believe you that she was in pain. But you have to remember she's still Poppy. And even if she’s a… uhm… human who feels, it doesn't mean she's not a bitch.”

Beck stood up, sitting properly while scratching their neck.

“Yeah, I know that.” They replied. Zoey had a point they couldn’t forget. From all people, Beck understood what it felt like to be judge by a cover, but as Megamind's Roxanne said once: Checking the content was what matters, and the inside of Poppy´s book was not so good.

The time on the wall clock pointed it was the moment to go, it was Saturday and Poppy and Beck agreed to meet her in front of an Animal Rescue from downtown around noon. He didn't want to be late, after all, Poppy was capable of start the project without them and argue that they didn't show up.

“Anyway, I have to go now. The sooner we end this, the better.” Beck put on their shoes and leather jacket, ready to impress thanks to Zoey fashion sense.

“I want you far~ away from trouble, Beck Hughes. Do you hear me?” The protector side of Zoey appeared and, again, they were confused by it.

Zoey always had that effect on Beck, she could warm their chest, sculpt a smile on their face. Honestly, after all these years in a toxic environment, bullying and harm, having Zoey´s concern on them was something new, something welcomed, something that made them happy. Laugh a little if Beck thought about it closely.

“I can take care of myself.” They said. After all of those fake friends, after all of the pain they went through, it was still hard to trust completely. However… Beck looked at Zoey, the only one who Beck felt relaxed with. Their best friend, the first one to treat them as what they were even after knowing the truth. Beck didn’t miss Farmsville at all. “See ya later, beautiful.”

“I´ll be waiting right here”

~~X~~

They won’t ever admit it, but after they heard Poppy saying that the project was in the Downtown Animal Rescue Beck was excited. Puppies, kitty cats, animals! Beck love them greatly, wholeheartedly. They were their weakness; their adoration was so much so Beck considered seriously taking the vet path almost all their life, if having not found music, their story would´ve been completely different right now. That´s why they couldn’t refrain themselves of stopping at each enclosure to coo over the animals, losing all sense of self-respect over them. Especially after a pup ugly, dummy looking like showed up with the most adorable face they ever seen.

“Oh boy, you’re so ugly I luv ya Tushie-face! Who’s a precious ugly-boy? Uhm? Who’s a precious ugly-boy~” The little pug barked happily, enjoying the attention. “You’re perfect! You’re…”

“… nice to see so many new additions.” Beck heard, stopping them at the moment. Beck was sure it was Poppy, but she sounded… “I guess that means a lot of these little guys are being adopted?” … different. Again.

“Yes, Ms. Min-Sinclair.” A young voice answered, without fear, with respect. A good kind of respect. “We have a ten percent higher adoption rate than last year” Uhh, that sounded good. For some random reason, Beck showed the thumbs up to the ugly pug, flashing him a stupid smile at which the pup moved his tail as if he understand what it meant and agreed.

But then… Poppy laughed.

A real laugh. A nice, non-threatening, actually kind of cute laugh. So honest that they felt terrible attracted to it.

“No… Oh, no, no, no… No. Don't you even think about…”

As if their body was its own person, Beck rounded the corner, wanted so badly to see how a laughter so sincere looked like in Poppy´s face, like some weird kind of siren song they had to see with their own eyes. Instead, Beck saw her talking to one of the shelter’s employees, hugging and stroking a bichon frise puppy´s tummy softly, lovingly. Their heart stopped just a second, running wild immediately after.

“God… she’s so…”

“DON´T!” And they slapped their self. Hard. Beck deserved it. They couldn't… they won’t… They refused to…

The sound where so loud it called the attention of both Poppy and the other guy, while Beck felt the stinging and burning on his now red cheek. Ok, maybe~ they didn't have to do that, actually, the expression on Poppy´s face the moment she saw them, a sour, angry one, was the only thing they needed to feel normal again towards her.

“You're late” Why, hello to you too.

“I´m sorry, it's just that I was playing with Tushie face and…”

“Tushie face?” Beck couldn’t tell if she was amused or making fun of how stupid they were. “That´s how you pet-name?” Poppy added, raising an eyebrow. Beck shrugged.

“If you have a tushie face, then you are a tushie face. Simple as that” Based on Poppy's smirk, they should’ve stay quiet.

“Uhm… Alright, tushie face.” Damn it! “Come with me.” She then gave them a wink, smiling as if they both had now a new secret, before walking toward the back of the kennels.

Fuck.

“So… how do you knew about this place?” Beck asked, very willing to replace the topic to literally anything.

“If you must know, my parents bought me this shelter when I was eight.”

“What?”

“Really? Why?”

“I wanted a dog. Mommy and Daddy didn't want pets in the house… Et, voila”

Beck looked around, the place had now a new light after what they just learned. All this place was Poppy's, just because her parents didn’t approve animals at home. Unintentionally, Beck chuckled, feeling Poppy’s gaze on them almost immediately.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, irritated.

“We’re really very different but the same at once” They said. “Ever since I was a kid, my parents taught me to work with every single farm animal. Cleaning them, feed them, love them… I even helped bring life into this world.” Beck told her, twisting their lips. “I had a lot of different pets back at home. So do you right here. You see?”

“You’re forgetting about the fact the whole point of a place like this isn't for the animals to stay forever…” She said, vulnerable. Beck did actually get that, the hollow feeling that comes after something like that.

“Well… at least they’re not dinner”

Surprisingly, that comment made her chuckle just a little and Beck felt so good to be the one to take away that fragile expression in Poppy’s face. She was definitely more beautiful when she was happy. When she was laughing.

“You are right, that's even worse.”

They both looked at each other for a moment, some complicity in their own way, as if they both shared something, a sentiment that almost nobody felt, both understood each other, at least in one little but significant thing: They both learned very young what it's like to love innocently and truly, to have an unconditional companion, just to lose it to the “greater purpose” again and again. Both learned to never get really attached to anyone.

“But whatever, it gets the humanitarians off our back.” Just as if the conversation never happened, Poppy went back to the factory mode. “Which is why we’re really here. I’m fully aware of your popularity in YouTube, especially after your little performance, so hopefully this project we’re doing will get some good press for us to get the adoption rate it to, at least, 20 percent this year.”

“So this is why you wanted to work with me…” Beck didn't know why, but a little part of themselves felt disappointed… what was them expecting anyway?

Soon they both reach the back of the room, and while Poppy walked in as if it was completely routine, Beck had to stop for a second. A whole crew was already set up, cameras, microphones, lights, everything. A lot of cute pups and cats of all ages were also there looking adorable, sure they were the real stars of all this, but Beck couldn't help but feeling intimidated.

However, it was Poppy’s attitude the one thing that took all Beck’s attention though all the day.

She was kind, professional, caring… making sure of one thing above it all: to have the best commercial of all times for an animal shelter. The way she treated the employees, the animals, people around her… it was like a completely different side of her they never seen before. Poppy even, against all odds, treated Beck as what they were: her project partner. Giving them a fair share of lines, taking care of capturing their best angle, how happy they looked between all those cute little animals. Directing Beck to make sure every detail was perfect, being polite and respectful while doing so.

She was acting as a selfless but powerful leader, and Beck couldn’t take her eyes off of her the whole time. She even managed to convince them to adopt that tushi faced puppy, pointed out that they both had choose each other right at the moment they meet.

“Just look at the way he's watching you!” She said playfully. “You two are really connected.”

“Do you really think so?” Beck asked, playing with the pup. They really wanted to take the little guy home, be able to give him a good life, having another friend in their life. One not farm related at least. Beck felt Poppy coming closer, resting her hand on Beck's shoulder while watching little tushi face with a soft smile.

“I know so. But the real question is: what do you think?”

And now, Beck had a dog named Pepes.

~~X~~

Once they knew every detail was taken care of, and the adoption paperwork were all right, Poppy, Beck and little Pepes walked out the shelter. Personally, they felt drained out, because although they were used to cameras, it was always under their own terms and time, their own edition, their own personal rhythm, but after that day, Beck was seriously considering the idea of being backstage musician, unlike Poppy, who actually looked as fresh as a cucumber.

“Damn, Pops. I have to admit it: you were awesome there.” They said, Pepes barking enthusiastic, agreeing.

“Were you expecting something less?” She said, some mischievous sparkle in her eyes Beck couldn't quite place. “Now, take me to lunch.”

“I'm sorry? Why would I do that?”

“Because…” She started to say, sassiness taking over her. “… I acted, arranged, produce and direct a fully perfect commercial to our project while you just played around with puppies and looked cute. The very least you can do is buy me lunch. I'm starving.”

“Oh, so you think I'm cute?” Beck flirted. It was impossible to let it pass by.

“Like it was a secret” Poppy smirked.

“… What?”

“I’m not blind, Hughes. You are actually very good-looking. It´s not a secret.” Beck was shocked, did they really just heard a compliment from the one Poppy Min-Sinclair that wasn’t commercial related? They looked at her, expecting some irony or double meaning, maybe some hint of a trap, but no… She was being completely sincere. Beck snorted, it was cool they guessed.

“Now, that's a compliment.” Poppy rolled her eyes evidently, pretending to be irked, but that little smile on her lips proved to be the opposite.

“Hello? My lunch?” Beck laughed, how can she be so rude and yet so cute at the same time? Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

Maybe.

“Whatever you want, bossy-ass”

----

#queen b choices #choices #trans #ftm #poppy x mc #malemc #poppy min sinclair #bea hughes #Beck Hughes #choices stories you play #choices poppy #choices queen b mc #mc x poppy

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

Text

House, M.D. Fanfic (12/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story. I hope you continue to enjoy my rewrite of particular scenes and episodes with regards to Huddy. As always, I don't own House. If I did, Lisa Edelstein would have been offered the world to stay and be a major part of season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. I do sometimes use dialogue from episodes... but there are slight changes and adaptations, as well as additions to fit what I need. We just have to grit our teeth and bear this revisit of the Tritter era. I'm not sure if I hated him or Vogler more... but I wanted to kill both.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! I love feedback... good, bad or ugly. Seriously. It's like my Vicodin. So please enable me! Enjoy!

xxxxx

"I need a script for Vicodin."

Cuddy looked up from the medical journal she was reading. "How many days do you have left?"

"I can probably get through the next few minutes or so."

She was honestly surprised he was there. After everything that had happened between them, she knew how hard it must have been for him to come to her and ask. "You're coming to me, which means your lackeys actually stood up to you. I'm impressed, good for them," she stood and moved to her desk.

"Yes, their cowardice is inspiring."

"You should be thanking them. If they caved, it would give the cops evidence that you intimidated underlings to feed your addiction," she stated, pulling out her prescription pad from her desk.

"I hate writing thank you notes. Would it be weird if I asked Cameron to write them?" He watched as she grabbed a pen. "You're hooking me up?" That was surprising, considering everything between them. He'd come to her as a very last resort, but he had never expected her to actually give him a script.

"Unfortunately if I cut you off, it would give the cops evidence that you don't really need the pain medicine."

"I knew that cleavage was a smoke screen! You're a genius."

She watched as he reached for the paper, and had trouble lifting his arm. Pulling it just out of his reach, she commented, "You can't lift your arm."

"You can't pee standing up. Gimme."

"You've been doing physio? Maybe you pulled something?"

"Yeah, been training for Pants Off Dance Off. Give me the script."

"Your shoulder problem isn't physical. What's new? What's different? Any big changes in your life recently? Fight with the wife, maybe?"

"Right, my shoulder hurts because you stopped having sex with me. It's your fault. Good thing you're hooking me up with the good stuff."

She was quiet for a moment. That dig at her had hurt a little more than she'd expected. "It's good. It means that your shoulder is a human being. It's a start."

He just stared at her. Maybe it really was because they'd stopped sleeping together. He wouldn't let himself say that they broke up... they hadn't been together to begin with. It had all been based on sex because she wanted a baby. That option was no longer on the table, so there was no reason to keep seeing each other.

"I'm right, right?"

"Yeah. Just not about me," he said, turning to leave after her words gave him an epiphany about his patient. He turned a moment later and snatched the paper from her fingers before leaving for good.

xxxxx

The mobile red dot that was distracting her benefactors caused her to stand. "Excuse me. I have a toddler to put in time out," she said, heading for the door. More like she had a doctor she wanted to kill. "House!" She barked firmly, holding her hands out to the side in a 'what the hell' gesture.

"Need my pills!"

She rolled her eyes. "Right, and there was no other way to get my attention. Knocking on the door would never work."

He shrugged. "If I knocked on the door, I'd be forced to talk to your benefactors. I don't think you really want that," he smirked. Which was true... he didn't have the best history at schmoozing anyone. "If you'd given them to me when I asked half an hour ago, I wouldn't have had to interrupt your meeting."

"It wasn't time for a dose half an hour ago," she stated, moving to the clinic pharmacy and asking for his pills. Taking them, she offered the cup with a single pill to him.

"You seem to be missing the rest of the bottle."

She gave a smile. "No more free floating prescriptions.... reasonable doses at reasonable times."

He just stared at her. Was she serious? "Who decides what is reasonable?"

"The only doctor in this building who is willing to write you a script for pain meds," she answered smugly, shaking the cup at him.

He scowled, but took the cup. "You spent the last six months trying to have a baby with me. Are you sure you're really the best judge of what's reasonable?"

She froze slightly at his words, but simply kept walking back toward her office. "Reasonable doses," she repeated back to him before opening the door.

He watched the door close behind her before heaving a sigh and taking the pill she given him. It was better than nothing.

xxxxx

She walked into the empty room she had allowed Detective Tritter to occupy to look through the hospital files that she had supplied only after he had given her a court order. "Seems like a waste of taxpayer dollars. You should be out arresting real criminals."

"I'm on vacation this week. And Dr. House is a real criminal."

"He's not a Colombian drug lord, he's a pain patient. And you're not going to find anything."

He smirked smugly. "I've found plenty."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "You act like you're doing the world a huge favor, protecting everyone from House, but who protects the world from you?" She asked him then. "House may be an ass, but you're a bully. You've bullied my head of oncology to quit, my entire hospital staff is afraid to do... anything, really. He's probably the world's biggest jerk, but there's always a reason behind it. But you... you're going after innocent people because you've got a grudge against one person."

"Not one of you are innocent!" Tritter responded angrily. "Not one of you have told me the truth about him!"

Cuddy stood her ground, toeing the line with him. "Where's your proof? Not a single person is going to say anything against him to you," she responded confidently.

Tritter studied her. "I don't expect it from Dr. Cameron... or from you. Like I told her, women don't give up the men they're in love with. And for whatever reason, both of you are a little in love with him... maybe even a lot in love with him. I don't expect it from Dr. Foreman... he isn't a fan of police officers. But Dr. Chase or Dr. Wilson? One of them will flip. Or someone else will. Or Dr. House will do something every addict does. Eventually I will get what I want. And then everyone who lied to me is going down with Dr. House."

Cuddy just stared daggers at him, still more than capable and more than willing to square off with him. "Even if Dr. House has a problem... it's a medical problem. One that should be dealt with by doctors, not police detectives with a grudge."

"Except that none of you are dealing with it!"

"You don't know that, because you're not a doctor! You're a bully with a badge!"

Tritter clenched his jaw for a moment, working the nicotine gum around in his mouth. "He's going to jail. Like I said, I always get what I want." With that, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and left.

(Gif done by @gabrielokun and I will remove it if they ask. I just didn't know how to reblog their original post onto my story because it fit)

#house #house m.d.#house md #house fanfic #house x cuddy #huddy #greg house #lisa cuddy

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t100ficrecsblog · 4 years

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an interview with @changingthefairy-tale

What are you working on right now? Right now, I’m focused on BellarkeFic-for-BLM (I just got an amazing canon prompt I’m really excited to finish). I’ve also been participating in this round of the Chopped Challenge, which has been fun and challenging. In between prompts, I’ve got two WIPs that I’m slowly cranking through. Shoutout to every single reader who’s been incredibly patient while I’ve been so slow on those updates — though, reminder that you can donate to a BLM organization (even a $3 donation works) and request an update to get those higher on my prio list while I’m focused on that initiative.

What’s something you’d like to write one day? My absolute dream job and the ultimate goal is to become a showrunner for a prime time TV show. I love TV shows — I love the way actors and directors and crew take a script and breath life into it, I love how you take a general idea for a story and mold it into something amazing as you go, I love how a series gives a story more time to be fleshed out and explored, I love the concept of a writers room and collaborating on a story. It’s a different ballgame from fic writing (which I do for fun) and travel writing (which I do for a living), but I’m determined to make it happen. JRoth, I’m coming for your job, babe. 😉

What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I’m still really new to fic writing, especially compared to some of the powerhouse writers in this fandom. And I’m sure one of my WIPs (when finished) will probably supersede this. BUT, my one-shot about Madi calling Bellamy on The Ring (She called you for 2,199 days) is something I’m really proud of. I’m a long-winded writer, so one-shots have never come naturally to me. This one just…clicked. It’s got some good lines in there that I’m proud of, and based on the feedback I’ve gotten, it really made readers feel something and connect to the story. It’s not my longest story or my most thought-out. But it shows my growth as a writer these past few months, and I’m proud of that.

Why did you first start writing fic? I started writing fic as a creative outlet for my writing. My day job is writing about travel and credit cards. And while I enjoy that, it’s just not as creative. My dream is to write for a TV show though, and I was craving a way to flex my creative writing muscles in a low-stress way. I started watching The 100 when it first came out, but I didn’t really get into the fandom until I came back to the show during the S5/6 hiatus. That’s when I started reading fics and reblogging stuff about the show on Tumblr. During the S6/7 hiatus, I had this idea for a Greys Anatomy AU, and my sister (who is also a major fan of the show) was like, “You literally write things for a living. If you want to write a Grey’s AU for t100, there is absolutely nothing stopping you.” I published my first chapter on that The Choices We Make in Dec. 2019, and the rest is history.

What frustrates you most about fic writing? For me, I think that the most frustrating thing isn’t even about fic writing itself; it’s the fact that it’s a side-hobby and not something I can dedicate my full attention to. When you write all day for your day job, then do some for your freelance gig, and then turn around and try to write for a few hours every night for fic… that gets hard sometimes — especially since starting quarantine where I’m not traveling, going out with friends, getting a break from it, etc. Fic writing is a creative release for me, and I absolutely love crafting and writing these stories that involve some of my favorite fictional characters. And I love interacting with other writers and fic readers, I love talking about ideas and exchanging headcanons and fangirling over my favorite writers’ works. But (because there’s always a but), sometimes I just don’t have the mental energy or capacity to write at the end of the day when I’ve turned in 3 deadlines for work. I’ve got all these ideas floating in my head, but only so much time and mental energy I can dedicate to it.

What are your top five songs right now? Oh boy. So I live alone, which means I’ve got either music or Netflix on in the background 24/7 because ya girl doesn’t like silence. I have a different playlist for different moods. I’ll share my fav song from each of those playlists. Lol Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks (On my “Summer state of mind” playlist for when I wanna dance it out in my kitchen like an idiot)

Don Quixote by Drapht (On @talistheintrovert’s “My Good Bitch Murphy” playlist for when I’m feeling *edgy*)

that way by Tate McRae (On my “Pandemic Jams” playlist bc I like angsty music and this song is a Bellarke MOOD)

Washington on Your Side from Hamilton (On my “Feeding my Broadway Obsession” playlist for when I wanna sing show tunes and plot overthrowing the government)

Tea by Noah Davis (Shameless plug for Noah bc it’s a bop and I literally dated Noah’s older brother in junior high — so proud of this kid for making his dreams a reality)

What are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic, really good cake)? All of the above, except I like pie more than cake. lol But really, I kind of use everything around me for inspiration. “The Choices We Make” is inspired by my love of Grey’s Anatomy. “Intertwining your soul (with somebody else)” is inspired my the first draft of my YA novel (though the setting was adapted to a grounder canonverse AU). “The Day He Shut That Rocket Door” and “She called you for 2,199 days” were inspired by @historyofbellarke‘s headcanons that were brought up in S7 speccing conversations (shoutout to her for enabling my angsty ass). My most recent WIP “There are some things written in the stars” that I started as part of Chopped (but will continue because I’m obsessed with the idea) is inspired by my love of Timeless. And I have an entire Notion database filled with fic ideas — some one-shots and some multi-chapter fics — that are inspired by quotes, songs, conversations with friends, books I love, shows I adore, random HCs that pop into my head while I watch, my own life experiences, etc. I take inspiration in any form it decides to come in. 💕

What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m a ho for enemies to lovers — the idea that you can put your worst foot forward and show someone all the ugly parts of you… and that they’ll see that and somehow look past it to see the good stuff too, falling in love with your whole self instead of just the pretty parts. Yeah, it’s my favorite romance trope. And that tension is what originally drew me to Bellarke. Now, it’s a combination of things. I love each of these characters in their own right. I relate to Clarke in a lot of ways, and I aspire to be her level of badass. I straight adore Bellamy Blake (flaws, stupid decisions, and all) and would marry him in a heartbeat if he were real — I’m not even kidding. lol But I also love their dynamic. They are partners, best friends, perfect compliments to the other. They see each other in a way no one else does, and they are the one person the other constantly risks everything for. They are both so driven by their responsibilities to their people, yet that all typically goes out the window the moment the other is at risk. I don’t believe in soulmates in real life, but it’s nice to get to believe in this fictional world that they are just made for each other.

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? My favorite character besides Bellarke is John Murphy. His arc has been BY FAR the best on this show, going from that little shit in S1 to this “asshole we love” in the middle to now a true hero in this final season. And through it all Richard Harmon has been amazing to watch on screen.

My favorite pairing besides Bellarke is Linctavia. Yes, that ship is problematic in a lot of ways, but I still loved their dynamic. Lincoln helped Octavia navigate this new world that she was so desperate to be apart of while being mindful of her safety. And I thought they were a good match — he helped tame her fire without putting it out, and she helped challenge the way he was raised. Given time, I think they could have become one of the most stable and loving relationships on t100. Of course, that couldn’t happen because Jason needed Bell’s actions in 3A to have heartbreaking consequences, O to spiral for her own character journey, and whatever mess happened off-screen between Ricky and him. But they still remain my favorite ship aside from Bellarke.

Why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? The second I saw that Sam was planning on doing this, I reached out to ask how I could help/write/be involved. The BLM movement is so important, and this is an amazing way for me to contribute while pursuing my passions. It’s a way for the fandom to get involved and do something good. And ultimately, this helps organizations that need donations. Shameless plug for everyone to please go check out the Bellarke Fic for BLM page — check out the many amazing writers and artists we have participating, and send in prompts. Most of us are allowing WIP chapter update requests, and there are a number of us (myself included) who are matching donations made! No donation is too small, and you’ll be supporting a movement that is a necessity in the U.S. and beyond.

What’s your writing process like? My mind is literal chaos, so I plan and outline like hell in order to make sense of everything. When I get an idea for a fic, it goes on my Notion database. Within Notion, I write down my inspiration for the idea, and a pretty in-depth summary of where I want the fic to go — dialogue ideas, any feelings/emotions I want to invoke, literally just a brain dump of all my ideas. From there, I’ll arrange that brain dumb into an outline. If it’s a one-shot, I’ll generally write the whole thing in the Notion doc. But multi-chapter fics will get a checklist within Notion for me to keep track of progress, and I’ll actually write the fic in Google Docs. I generally start writing from the beginning of a story, but if I get stuck or have an idea for a later scene, the fact that I’ve outlined heavily allows me to jump around as ideas come to me. I’ll read each one-shot or chapter after I’m done to make sure it flows before publishing. I post chapters for my WIPs as I write them, which I should really stop doing. lol For my readers’ sakes, I should work ahead and publish on a schedule rather than making them wait for my slow ass to finish chapter to chapter. But right now, that’s my process!

What are some things you’d like to recommend? Oh goodness, too many fics to possibly name. Instead, I’ll link to my AO3 rec bookmarks (which isn’t all-inclusive of the amazing fics I’ve read in this fandom, but it’s got some good favs in there) and shout out all of our awesome Bellarke Fic for BLM writers. Y’all should check out their work (and send in prompts)!

Where’s the best place to find you (twitter? tumblr?) I’m @changingthefairy-tale on Tumblr and @changingthefairy_tale on AO3! My ask box is always open for anyone who wants to scream about the show, ask about specs, talk about my fics, etc. Come say hey!

#bellarkefic for blm #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #john murphy #bellarke #bellarkefic for blm interviews

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merryspark · 3 years

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UPDATE

Hello there, my beautiful, and amazing friends!!! I came again to ask for your understanding.

Hopefully I can say, I’ll be back weekly, just like before. I MUST apologize from all of you, because I am through hard times, what took the most part of my free time. Nothing much happened, just life - nothing more that some of you fight already: I was hardly exhausted, depressed, scared, anxious - i worked hard at job, I had to repair the new house what we are working on, I had an ugly arguement with my boss, because they saw i am not the same as always - and look who tried to convince them about I’m fine - of course ME... Yes, many times I was only angry, yelling at everybody, then crying. Everything was about bad luck: I almost messed up my relationship, i was too jelaous on almost everybody, because i felt ugly and tired. I broke my phone into pieces on the ground accidentally. I have no money to buy a new one, before christmas, and get a bonus... but i know instead of a new phone i’ll buy a BIG gift for li’l sis instead... Though i hunger for TF Forged to Fight. I did not played it since i registered on Tumblr. So about bad luck - i made a lot of mistakes in job, I have to help my family meanwhile, and spend most of the time travelling to the countryside and back to the city. I sleep mostly on vehicles. Half hours, and standard six at night before i wake up 3:40am to start this again. So i started to fell apart between the many responsibilities, what all i wanted to carry, because I HAVE TO. I convinced myself, i have to do everything alone - that meant i had the hours of the day, one person from one salary trying to keep up two household, and look after everybody in two cities (100 km-s far from each other), not to mention being a full person at daytime at the factory, where i was stressed because i felt somewhere is happening stuff right now, and i have to be there... so i started to go mad. Slowly, but surely. Sometimes i felt i should KILL someone, sometimes that “someone” looked logical to be myself. There was two weeks when i was thinking nothing about this, and cry more. It looked so fantastic idea, because i would have some rest at last. :D So i cried, i tried to think elseway...

I was unable to draw for two months, what made things worse... because i LOVE IT. It seemed i lost the last reason to live. My li’l sis was patient, though i had the less time for her... she is before high school, she needed to make her exams alone. I was not there. I was at job. I helped her with her animation presentation - i made a script how should it look like, and collected all her small pieces of art from my Drive into a foldier, and sent her - describing the steps she shall follow as she put it together. I worked t’il midnight that night (i woke up the same early morning, then go to job from the countryside, then go home in the city to visit her...), and when she woke up next morning, she worked immediately, because in the afternoon at 1pm she had to go to the exam. (The art teacher did not watched her presentation afterall....)

So days went by - it seemed there is only monday and friday on every week.

I felt shame because i get letters, messages. I read them while i was running, and hate myself, i can’t answer. Friends in need - i’m always afraid noone will look for me ever again in my life, because slowly they realize it is unnecessary. But i can’t help... life sometimes is like running down on the hill in a burning car with stucked doors... You can do nothing, just sit and wait to arrive in one piece.

I MUST APOLOGIZE. First of all, from you: @velvetblackjack. You facing hard times in your country, and i was not a good friend. :( Believe me, i feel shame and hate myself, i hate the life every day, i am not there for you in challenging times, when you need me. I was unable to send videos because i broke my phone. Please forgive me, and try to be strong, collect all your strenght to be here for me, when this shit ends. I am always happy, when i see, you can be happy with your followers, you find cheer to answer your letters in a “good mood”. <3

I apologize from @gearsofbellona and all of my other fams! I was away, but i feel this morning i am able to work again.

Last but not least, if you, “anon”, reading this, who wrote me the ask - what is only the SECOND ASK in my life, i am working on it. I hope you’ll like it, and you’ll get it next week.

Thank you for still believe in me, for liking my art. It gives supernatural powers to an artist, if in deep, dark times you just hit that “heart”. It is like to drink life-essence before you wake up to continue where you finished the previous day.

I LOVE YOU ALL. LOVE EACH OTHER, AND TAKE CARE OF YOU.

Hugs, Merry :)

#note #callout #my problems #sorryagain #no1whineriguess #thanks for reading #hi there #update #apologizes #sorryyall

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captain-kelli · 4 years

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a family thing

I haven’t been around long, but from where I’m sitting it seems we have a really hard time existing in an online community together.

Is it really that difficult to be good to one another? Is it really that difficult to support one another? We race to be right, to be the loudest, to win. I’ve seen people say things that I can’t even fathom them saying in real life. It’s been downright ugly and I am so disappointed.

Do you know how hard it is to see my friends battle hateful anonymous gray faces? To get texts from several of them that describe their frustrations and hurt? All because they’re asking for reciprocation in their giving? C’mon y’all.

We’ve got to be better than this.

The internet is big, so we’re never going to change everybody. I can only be responsible for me. You can only be responsible for you. But if enough of us do that, it should get better. We can’t be lazy in our goodness. We can’t grow complacent in our virtue. This little community, crazy though it may be, is supposed to be a place for us to come together and share our interests, our creations, our ideas. Our lives.

So! I’m starting to think we should start looking at this a bit more like a social contract. An implied agreement that we all work together for the benefit of everyone.

What I, personally, can promise you:

I will write stories and share them with you - free of charge

I will respond to as many comments on my stories as I possibly can to show my appreciation to readers

I will keep my inbox open so that my readers can have access to me

I will always offer a listening ear and a kind word

I will be as diplomatic and fair as my rampant emotions will allow

I will always reblog any story that I read, providing some sort of feedback to let you know how the story made me feel

I will use my platform to share the work of other content creators

I will mess up from time to time, but I will own those mistakes and ask your forgiveness

What I ask in return:

Kindness. Always. If you can’t find a way to be kind to me, there’s this fun functionality tumblr has that allows you to unfollow or even block users, should the mood strike you.

If you read one of my stories, get to the very bottom of it and happened to enjoy it, I’d like to ask you to share it. It helps spread my work which is any content creator’s goal. Depending on the story, I spend quite a considerable amount of time writing it. Reblogging after reading lets me know you appreciated that effort.

An understanding that I have a life off of this site which may prohibit me from a regular posting schedule. I am, after all, not a machine. Be patient with me.

An understanding that I am a human with feelings, beliefs, insecurities, and dreams. Please treat me as such.

If I mess up, like I expect I will, please check me on it. If you could, do it in a way that’s constructive and polite.

That doesn’t sound so hard, does it? Just be good to each other. And be good to my friends because I’m a little done seeing them so upset and hurt.

#fandom discourse

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queen-of-seventeen · 5 years

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My favourite drug

So my posting date was yesterday and I did post it on ao3, linked to my artist and all, but I also wanted to share it here on tumblr for everyone who didn’t see.

ao3

the art by my lovely artist who was a wonderful person to work with and bounce ideas off and shoutout to @thespacebetweenworlds for betaing this and calling me out on rythm, word choice and plot. You’re an angel.

Also thank you gabriella for making @aftgreverse and moderating, this wouldn’t be here without you!

Andrew washed his hands. First rinsing with water. Top, heel, between the fingers. Then with soap and rinse it all. He never missed a spot. He didn’t feel like trailing blood everywhere he went. Not today, not ever. If only Aaron hadn’t forgotten the beeswax again for his hands. His skin wasn’t keeping up with all the washing.

Done.

He stepped out of the room. This should be the end of his work day. He’d have to make dinner for Aaron and prepare for Nicky’s visit from Germany. He should give Katelyn the week off, he didn’t know if he’d given her a break since he hired her years ago. Nicky could take over some tasks and Andrew would be off work a bit more. His cousin was at least notorious in that.

Andrew was already getting a headache when he thought about it. He didn’t hate his cousin but like was too strong a word. At least Erik and his hot chocolates were coming also.

The family of his patient hugged him when he told them their husband and father wasn’t going to die. Why did people feel the need to hug strangers? It was nauseating. Too bad he couldn’t stab them, it wouldn’t do his reputation good. He did have to be a “good” doctor in the end and not kill anyone. Like the man who had lain on his table.

Would he react the same way if it was Aaron or Nicky on that table?

No. He hadn’t cried like that after Aaron’s accident. He just had to crash the GT, hadn’t he?

He told the family that they would be updated by a nurse from now on and Andrew’s day was over. Besides, nurses did more work than he did, he just had to cut people open and stitch them shut. Easy deal.

Someone screamed outside. Probably a woman who would barely make it into one of the delivery rooms. Nothing for him to do. He made his way to the staff room when someone called his name. It was Boyd. He worked at the ambulances and was always too curious for his own good.

“Hey, Andrew, we kind of need your help? Someone has to stitch up Neil and he won’t let anyone but you do it.”

Andrew remembered Neil. He never forgot anyone, but least of all that auburn haired man that could always be found near Boyd. And if people knew little about Andrew they knew nothing about Neil. Which might be why Neil had picked out Andrew to stitch him up. The young man was full of dumb reasons.

Andrew waved a hand to make Matt follow him to an exam room with Neil.

“You’re doing it?” Matt asked. His jaw dropped and he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean great. Please do it quickly. I have no idea how much blood he already lost. Some freak outside stabbed him and he doesn’t even want to take his shirt of so we can put pressure on it.”

Another thing about Neil that didn’t add up. Andrew followed Boyd to one of the smaller examination rooms. He made Boyd wait when he went inside. The glass matte to keep from onlookers.

Neil looked up when Andrew walked in. Andrew’s face turning into a scowl. “You really had to be helpful today of all days?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow and got his supplies from the different drawers. Needles, thread, antiseptics, gauze. From the still spreading blood stain on his arm. He spread them out on the small table and leaned back on a stool. “I get paid to stitch you up.”

Neil remained silent. His eyes flitted to the door and back. Flighty little thing, wasn’t he? “I can stitch myself up.”

“Everyone here can stitch you up.” Not a lie. They all went to school for some form of medical programme. Andrew was certain that only a couple of the desk clerks didn’t know how to stitch up a simple wound or put a couple swallows on them until someone else came to close the wound. “I have a proposition for you. Either I let you stitch it up yourself, wait until you faint from blood loss then still do it myself and hook you up to an IV.”

Neil turned white. “Or? I only heard one option.”

“You let me stitch it up and you can be out of here in a couple of minutes with doctor patient confidentiality, of course.” Andrew crossed his arms. He missed his knives. Too bad they couldn’t go with him into surgery. He could just as well incapacitate Neil with a scalpel.

Neil stilled before taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

Neil took of his coat. He didn’t seem bothered that Andrew wasn’t helping. Andrew was almost certain that neither of them wanted to get close to the other right then. Neil with his reluctance to be helped and Andrew just not wanting to be touched after surgery when he could still feel the blood under his nails.

He had washed his hands right?Rubbed them raw under the streaming water. Top, bottom, between the fingers. Then with soap, top, bottom, between the fingers. Rinse again. Rub them in with beeswax or hand lotion. Take better care of yourself, Andrew. You’re useless if we’re both stuck in wheelchairs.

Andrew blinked twice before he rolled his chair closer to Neil. His skin was pale and sweaty. Not attractive. Not at all. Neil stayed quiet as Andrew numbed the skin and picked up the needle. He didn’t flinch when Andrew stuck it in. “Staring.”

Neil hummed but didn’t look away. He didn’t look at his arm either. He was lucky that the knife hadn’t gotten stuck in one of the bones.

“I didn’t think you would agree,” Neil mused. “Everyone is always saying that you stick to yourself. That you only got in because you know the shrink and stuff.”

“And you believe them.” He said it like a fact. He knew that was what others said about him. One of the nurses, Renee, told him about it during their sunday brunch.

“I like getting my information from the source.” Neil didn’t ask anything else. He kept quiet for a bit. “This is the first time I’m getting stitched up by someone who isn’t family.”

Andrew fought not to react and tied off the thread. His fingers tied the bandage without touching Neil’s skin again. Tight, but not too tight. See Aaron, I know how to tie a bandage.

Neil cocked his head a poked at the bandage. “You’re already done.”

“I don’t waste time.” He started cleaning the equipment and threw out the needle. “Keep it clean but don’t get the wound wet under the shower. If you have any questions, but I doubt the hospital would make hiring decisions that bad, you can ask one of the nurses on the third floor.”

“You work on the third floor?” Neil’s eyes widened. They were too blue to be true. Maybe someone had slipped something in Andrew’s drink and he was making this all up. Like he made up half of his teenage years before Aaron came into the pictures. All the good memories fell under that category.

“Kevin never told me that he works with you.”

“We don’t.” Neil stayed quiet. “We both have our own team. Kevin is the best neurosurgeon this hospital has. My office is on his floor but I work in transplants and amputations.”

“What if I’d come to your office for advice on how to clean this?”

“I get paid to humor everyone with an appointment.” Andrew was finished with cleaning. Why didn’t he leave? Why hadn’t Neil left already? He should be gone. Should go up in smoke. Gone. Out of Andrew’s sight. “Make one and you’ll see what happens. I’m leaving.”

Andrew didn’t look back when he left the room. He certainly didn’t think he should get Neil’s phone number. It’s not like he’d need it for anything. Not like he wanted to speak to Neil or any of his stupid colleagues again.

A surgery is a series of complex steps to make sure you don’t accidentally kill someone for a service they asked of you. In other terms: People ask you to consensually stab them in places where they’ll survive.

In this instance Andrew had been needed to do a liver transplant. The woman who got it was lucky. Some guy before her on the list had drunk alcohol. Stupid mistake. There’s only so many rules for a transplant and he messed up an obvious one.

The lady of the transplant hadn’t drunk even once in her life she said. Andrew had no reason to believe her but the blood test came out clean so it was good enough. Good enough for the hospital and good enough for Andrew to stab her in name of his brother. Minyard. How did he even get settled with such a stupid name? With a dumb twin and a dumber cousin who was sleeping in their guest room with his kid and husband from Germany.

Why was family important enough to come visit so far? Andrew wouldn’t do that.

He poked his mashed potatoes with a fork. The texture was wonkey. It wasn’t smooth like it should be and Nicky would be horrified at the bland taste. How unfair life could be to get paid so much but still have such lousy food. He doubted that prison food tasted better. Even with perfect recall, tastes were always difficult to remember.

Like that one piece of chocolate he filched of a younger foster sibling, or the cookies he hoarded before they would cut off his dinner. He deserved better. He might be an angry midget but everybody deserves food. It might be why going to med school in Aaron’s place wasn’t that bad. He already had the credits and Aaron was his motivation letter. This way he could save someone in the same way he had failed his brother.

Telling himself it was just a car accident was both a lie and the ugly truth. Andrew knew what tempered breaks looked like and that Aaron was never supposed to drive in his car. If the police hadn’t found the guy responsible, Andrew would’ve killed him with his bare hands. Nobody touches the people Andrew promises to protect. Except for that time.

The chair opposite of him made an awful screeching sound before Neil sat down. He had to grace to flinch. A steaming ceramic cup warmed his hands. The last remnant of winter had probably seeped in his clothes during his shift.

Why was Andrew thinking of this? It must be the blue eyes.

“I got an appointment,” Neil said. “During lunch hour because you have real appointments of course but I know you still get paid during breaks. Kevin told me.”

Kevin was a traitor. Andrew knew that already. Kevin always had to talk to other people and complain about Andrew. When he wasn’t complaining about Andrew, his apathy towards mistakes, and his poor social skills, he was complaining to Andrew about people. Now Andrew would feel bad for those people only he didn’t like those people and zoning Kevin out mid rant was part of his poor social skills. Now that he was looking at Neil he noticed some things. Neil was a short, flighty, redhead. Which was part of the description Kevin had given at the beginning of his rant. Some stupid red headed midget who always claimed the trackmill in the gym.

Andrew would ask if that’s how Neil knew Kevin. But that would imply Andrew was interested in it. He wasn’t. Not at all.

“I don’t think you have an appointment right now,” Andrew said. “For one, I’m eating and didn’t ask for you to be here.”

“I didn’t see anyone else sitting in this chair.” Neil grinned and ran his finger over the rim of his mug. A real mug with what seemed to be real hot chocolate, with milk, not water.

“The chair’s reserved for my doppelganger. Ask him if you see him.”

“There could never be two of you.”

“That’s just a lie. How did you graduate if you don’t know about twins, triplets, quadruplets, need I go on?”

Neil cocked his head and smiled. He ran his fingers over the rim of the mug again. “How hard must your parents have had it with two of your personality.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. He watched the smile slip as Neil looked over his shoulder.

“I have to go.” He stood up. The mug still on the table. He hadn’t drunk from it even once. “Matt’s signaling.”

“You’re forgetting your drink.”

Neil looked back over his shoulder, that damn smile back. “I never liked hot chocolate. Consider it a thank you.”

Andrew’s fingers wound around the mug, lukewarm by now, to throw it at Neil’s head. He didn’t do it. Only because he needed this job. Needed the big sums of money to keep paying for Aaron’s care. For Katelyn and the wheelchair, the special shower, all the medication and physiotherapy.

He took a swallow as he didn’t watch Neil walk away. Didn’t watch his ass like he was back at Eden’s with his brother at his side and his cousin on the dance floor down below.

When were Nicky and Erik coming over again? He still had to hire somewhere to clean the house. Someone to pick up the cigarette buds and empty bottles. He never noticed if Katelyn threw them out or not. He didn’t like to spend time at home at all.

He should visit Bee again. See if she could figure out what was going on in his head. He wasn’t able to. Not now. Not when his life was catching up to him.

He would have to figure that out soon enough, but not when he was a mess. Not now. Not now.

Home was a mess. Everything was dirty and Andrew didn’t want to clean everything. Even if Nicky was coming that evening. Andrew and Aaron were going to pick them up in a couple of hours. He couldn’t believe he had taken two whole days off for Nicky. Aaron would be able to entertain him way better.

Aaron leaned forward out of his chair, almost sliding out. His fingers just touched the knight enough to scoot it a bit.

“Be careful,” Andrew snapped. “We should’ve sat at the kitchen table.” That way he wouldn’t have to pick his brother up from the floor.

“I told you, I like the view better here. It’s a great garden. Katelyn offered to plant some flowers. You know it being spring and all that.”

“Bulbs have to be planted in the winter. We wouldn’t have tulips if we had to wait for Katelyn to plant all of them.” He didn’t like Katelyn. Didn’t like how she pried in all the cupboards when he already told her where the meds were. How she insisted Andrew had to clean more because it was better for Aaron.

He didn’t need a stranger in his bathroom. It was his bathroom, his bedroom, his home, his brother. The only reason she was here was because Andrew was living Aaron’s dream. He could’ve been FBI or CIA or just a regular cop by now. He had studied for it in the first years of his college education.

Then came the car. Andrew became a surgeon and Aaron was bound to a desk at the newspaper two days a week. He was a better writer than he first thought, at least. Imagine all the threats they’d get over false news otherwise.

Aaron leaned forward again and this time actually managed to move the knight without knocking over the whole board.

“You’re setting yourself up to lose.” What was his brother doing? They had played together for years now. Aaron knew what a losing move looked like.

“If I can win from this position I want you to do me a favor.” Andrew looked over the rim of his reading glasses. Contacts were for work days, and the dates he couldn’t go on anymore.

“No,” he said. It couldn’t only be bad if Aaron was asking that of him. Maybe someone at his work asked him out out of pity. The guy that can’t walk, only has so many fingers. Must be fun to see if he can get it up, right? He wouldn’t allow for someone to use his brother like that.

“You didn’t even hear what I want to ask of you.” Aaron let his wheelchair bump into the table before he moved a piece.

“I said no. I won’t do you anymore favors.”

“When have you ever done me any favors?” Andrew could almost imagine his twin standing up. He always wanted to be taller when he got angry. It was why Andrew stayed seated in the low chair.

“The last time I did you a favor you got yourself hit by a car and destroyed mine, remember?”

Aaron visibly flinched and sunk down in his chair. “I wanted you to drive me to a restaurant, okay. Katelyn asked me to try out some icecream with her.”

“You want to go on a date?” Aaron nodded. Andrew folded his hands. He had to say no. He had to protect his brother. Protect him as if they were thirteen again and Andrew was the only thing between Aaron and his mother’s hands. Between Aaron and another hit. “If Nicky is still here by then you can get him to drive you.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re thirty-two. I’m not driving you.” He stood up. His hands itched for a whiskey he hadn’t drunk in years. They didn’t mix well with Aaron’s meds. He could almost taste the burn in his throat.

He grabbed water with ice instead. A second glass already in his hands filled with lemonade before he thought of it.

The stool felt warm and gross when he sat down again. Why didn’t chairs ever just feel neutral?

His fingers moved his queen in reach of Aaron’s knight. He knew he was setting himself up to lose also. Aaron gave him a look like he understood. He could never. He had never given up the last shreds of what he wanted for someone just because he made a promise. Aaron never kept his promises anyway.

It took ten more minutes before Andrew’s pager went off. Buzz, buzz. He reached for it in the same moment that Aaron got him checkmate. The queen was gone and Andrew had nowhere to go.

Emergency. Ambulance incoming in 20 minutes.

Aaron looked chagrined. “Hospital?”

“I could ask them to page Kevin.” Andrew took a sip from his drink.

“You could save someone’s life.”

“Or end it.”

Aaron gave his brother a cold look. “You’re going to save them. I’ll call Nicky to drive Erik and him over here or I’ll call Katelyn and she can take us to and from the airport. We both know she doesn’t have much other patients with the amount you pay her.”

“I wasn’t the one who said I couldn’t have more than three sports cars.” This didn’t improve Aaron’s look but Andrew’s mood went a bit up. Today was supposed to be their brother day after all and the surgery was messing it all up. “Call Katelyn. See if she still likes you after meeting Nicky.”

He pulled on his coat and closed the door before Aaron could reply. His brother was going to get his heart strings pulled. No big deal. It wasn’t like their agreement was still running. Aaron had broken it one to many times. And Bee said it was time to let things go. They were both thirty-two after all.

The Maserati wasn’t his normal work car but he needed to be there quick. The nurses and other surgeons on his team were probably already prepping the room. He still had to dress and clean. He was too slow.

His feet pressed on the peddle a bit more.

The doors slid open in front of him and he didn’t remember half of the trip there. That wasn’t a good sign. It was never a good sign when he was losing time like that. He should get it checked out. There probably was an explanation for and Bee wouldn’t put it in his report if he asked it during a friendly dinner.

The blue scrubs he wore were still clean. His head was still full. There was so much that could be happening at the moment. What if his patient had already died in the ambulance. Then he’d have left Aaron alone for no reason.

Andrew let someone pull on his gloves. It was long ago that he didn’t dare pull his arm guards off but they weren’t hygienic enough for a surgery. He had no choice. No choice but to almost flaunt all his scars to his team. He saw Renee in a corner. The blatant lie that she didn’t want to be a surgeon. He knew she’d had the training. He knew that she only became a nurse because she got more contact with people that way. It was why the boss was so reluctant to give her a raise, fucking Joan of Arc didn’t care for it. Stupid.

In the end a surgery was just as much the use of the right equipment and team. Andrew knew he had both.

It was a surprise for him when it turned out that he hadn’t known everything from the start. He knew it had been a car crash. Look out for internal bleeding, for ruptured organs, for anything. He hadn’t seen the blood at the start. It was a body, there was blood everywhere, always. Robin was good at suction and watching over abnormalities and he was glad Jack had been transferred to Kevin’s team.

There was more blood than planned. At the bottom under the liver there was a small gap. A rib had punctured it and nobody had told him. He’d have told them how low the chance of succeeding was if they had. Now he had to save the dickwad on his table because someone else forgot to tell him stuff.

No time to think. He had to act. To save the man.

He did. He did save the man. Barely. He wasn’t sure how much of the spine was messed up during the drive, the stretcher, the man handling and the surgery. He could’ve just messed up the man’s chance at walking. Not his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault. He told himself.

This is nothing like Aaron’s accident. He had no control over Aaron’s accident or surgery. Aaron was already done for before the medical team arrived on scene. It was a miracle his brother was still alive. If Andrew believed in miracles. He didn’t. Miracles were for the hopers and the hopeless. He was neither. Faith was a waste of his time and had never gotten him anywhere.

It had only gotten his hopes dashed. A very visual imprint of you don’t deserve this . He hated it.

The steps at the back door were cold. The only time they were warm was when your butt would melt into one of the steps themselves. At the moment they just turned Andrew into a popsicle. It wasn’t good for him to sit there. He might get a UTI or some other disease from the bacteria that lingered there. The bacteria that would seep into his lungs and might finally make an end to his misery. Long ago he had thought it was his time to go. The world hadn’t agreed with him. Instead they’d tried to take his brother away.

He hated the world and the people in it.

He pulled his last packet of cigarettes out of his backpack. The flame already leaving the smoke he so desperately needed in his lungs. Starting to smoke had been a mistake. A mistake from 13 year old Andrew. Now he had to live with it. He craved the ashes on his tongue as much as he craved control. Maybe becoming a surgeon hadn’t been so bad an idea. He now controlled life and death after all.

Who was he kidding? It was awful. He much preferred singling out murderers and criminals faster than any other in his class. Yet another thing taken away from him.

He blew out the smoke, watching it cloud his sight of the Maserati. The car bought from his first big paycheck. The others had all gone to Aaron. No. No more thoughts of Aaron. He let the smoke billow around him before inhaling again. Let the smoke fog up his mind and cloud his judgement.

His thoughts became fuzzy. He needed fresh air. Clean of the nicotine to keep him alive. Bee would tell him to breathe.

“You’re a smart man, Andrew. You could do everything you want. Yet you follow your brothers dreams.”

But Betsy was a fool. She didn’t know anything of Aaron. Mostly because Aaron didn’t want to talk to the psychiatrist. She also didn’t know of their little agreement to look out for each other and stick together. One that Andrew was slowly loosening up as he let Aaron go out for a single date. Okay, he did it because Nicky would be nagging too much otherwise but still. Andrew would put his brother in first place even if he only ever got second, or third, fourth on a bad day.

Stupid.

The door opened with a whoosh and slammed shut. Andrew glanced sideways to see Neil sit down on the steps a careful arms length away. He always seemed to do that. Staying a careful distance away. Hmm, what would Bee say about him? He should ask her during their next lunch. As far as Andrew knew Neil wasn’t a patient so Andrew should be able to ask her.

He blew out a big plume of smoke before locking his gaze on the Maserati. He could feel Neil staring, those big blue eyes burning. Andrew allowed himself one more sideways glance. Neil was sitting on his hands. Andrew was barely able to stop himself from wondering about those strong thighs. Damnit, maybe he shouldn’t have given up Roland those years ago. He could’ve gotten a decent fuckbuddy out of him.

“Staring,” Andrew said. He put the cigarette down. It didn’t taste good, nor did the one after that. He had three left in the package before he gave up. It wasn’t a good time for smoking anyway.

Neil hummed. “Looking at you is better than Matt’s face. He gets these big sad eyes every time I tell him I haven’t done something.” When Andrew didn’t react he went on. “Like ice skating, or to the cinema, taking pictures for your own apartment. I didn’t even have an apartment before this job.”

Andrew looked at Neil as he leaned over his knees. Neil’s hair lit up in the early evening sky. It made him look like a fire and Andrew was the one getting burned if he kept at this for any longer.

“My mother left my father when I was eight,” Neil continued his monologue, “both of them died before I was eighteen. Lived in England for a while. Got my drivers license. Lost it again. Got it again in America. I’m very determined to not lose it a second time. Maybe keep to the speed limits a bit better.”

Andrew snuck glances at him while he rattled on. They were small bits and pieces about Neil’s life and while they seemed logical it didn’t add up to the person he tried to be. The Neil who was friends with Boyd. To be friends with Boyd you had to either be a puppy or as close to it as a person could be, or a kicked one. He was beginning to think Neil was the latter.

“I’m thinking of a getting a pet,” Neil said. “Matt says I should get a dog. It could go on runs with but to be fair I don’t want it to chew up my couch.”

Neil caught Andrew’s eyes and smiled. Too sharp for a puppy. He grabbed Andrew’s cigarettes only to get the matches out. It sparked and the flame lit up his eyes. A strange blue, not yet grey but very light. Like a midsummer sky back in California. It made Andrew dislike him a bit more. That the sunset set Neil’s hair aflame did not help his case. It looked brighter than the fire of the matches. He looked more addicting than the nicotine. Neil would probably kill him faster.

Andrew squashed down the small bit of want that went with his thoughts.

“Would you like to come with me to the shelter?” Neil asked.

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll ask Dan. She’s a bunny person so at least I won’t end up with something like a snake. No good memories of those in Australia.” Neil scrunched his eyebrows. “Or maybe not. I should take Allison and get her to buy all the toys for me because I won’t be spoiling the pet enough.”

“A pet is a bad decision. They need attention and you work irregular shifts. We all do. You can’t care for others like that.”

“I could if I wanted to. Something like a cat doesn’t have to be taken out. Although you might be right with all the litter.” Neil leaned back on his hands and looked up to the sky. “My break is almost over. Can I leave you here or should I get someone to stay with you?”

“Need to get home. Cousin is staying over for the week.” Andrew huffed. “This was supposed to be my week off. They owe me a night.”

“If you’re not here who will stitch up my wounds?” Neil’s smile was almost as blinding as his hair or the shine in his too smart eyes. Andrew wanted to punch him. Hard. Right across those cheekbones.

Andrew didn’t get why Neil was still sitting on the cold steps. Why he hadn’t so much as blinked when the flame had reached his fingertips. He was an enigma. A problem. Something Andrew wanted to solve. Somehow he thought he might be better off not trying.

Neil had to stop being so interesting.

Only, his brother was going on dates now . Bee would say to give it a try. People aren’t distractions. They’re a support system if you give them the chance. But he did have a support system. Aaron, Renee, Bee and Nicky, even if Nicky knew just about nothing. He didn’t need a fifth person to come into his house and eat his ice cream.

His hands itched for another cigarette and before he could deny himself Neil was already holding one out.

“I know what it feels like to be addicted to something. For me it’s running, and sometimes that’s more dangerous than a pack of cigarettes.”

Andrew took it and ignored the shiver down his spine when Neil’s fingers touched his. He ignored the burn of two blue eyes. Ignored the questions for the redhead. Ignored it when Neil said bye and jogged to the ambulance.

He ignored all the strange crawling feelings in his stomach until he got home and got distracted by his cousin and brother who had been waiting up for him.

Nicky, Erik, and Aaron were sitting in the backyard when Andrew came home. Nicky grinned when he saw him. A glass of wine in his and Erik’s hands, an untouched one in Aaron’s. Alcohol didn’t go well with his medication.

Andrew bypassed his cousin to pluck the glass away from his brother and drank it dry. Maybe not the smartest move as he hadn’t drunk in months either. “No more wine for Aaron. We quit drinking years ago.”

We. We. As if they had grown up together. As if they had those weird twin coincidences like being allergic to the same food or being able to read each other's minds through osmosis. Aaron didn’t like his twin enough to allow for that much. Andrew had started to care too much over the years that he wanted it. Like he never wanted anything but to keep his brother safe.

Nicky moved from his chair to Erik’s lap. His fingers disappearing in blond hair. Curly, like Neil’s, only Neil was a wildfire and Erik was a firefighter. He’d squash down the easy wit that bordered on antagonism. Andrew couldn’t have one. His only two joys in the hospital were tea with Renee and Bee and watching Neil burn someone to the ground.

He had to stop this. Had to stop looking at Neil and thinking of Neil. Had to stop anything to do with Neil. Next time Andrew would let him bleed to death at his front door.

He sat down in the chair Nicky abandoned. The wicks poked his back. Aaron always forgot the pillows. Apparently Nicky didn’t even assume they had them. As if he hadn’t been the one to raise Andrew during his teenage years.

“How was work?” Erik asked. His voice was much lower than anyone else in the backyard. If he hadn’t had such a pretty face and Andrew hadn’t had years of therapy he would’ve punched Erik at the associations his voice brought up.

“Nobody died. I’m still employed. Kevin is still the jerk who gets paid more than I do. ‘Best surgeon in South Carolina,’ don’t make me laugh.”

Aaron’s lips quirked up and Nicky was beaming. It wasn’t often Andrew made a joke. At least not a joke that didn’t border on antagonism.

Erik tapped Nicky’s thighs before making them both stand up. “I’m happy you like your job, Andrew. It will lessen Nicky’s grey hairs. Can’t have Camilla not recognizing her dad.”

Camilla was their six year old. They had adopted her back in Germany and she was tolerable for a little kid, Andrew presumed. Totally terrified of the wheelchair one second and fascinated the next. Too bad she wasn’t able to come as she was the funnest of his relatives but it was only her second year in elementary so Erik’s mom was watching her.

The couple wished the twins a good night before retreating inside of the house. It was quiet for all but a minute before there was a loud crash and a scream - surprise and pain. Nicky came running outside, eyes wide.

“Erik broke his arm. The bone is poking out and all. And… shit, fuck, our health care doesn’t cover american hospitals! Oh my god.”We don’t have money for an ambulance or health care outside of Germany.”

Andrew heard Aaron calming down Nicky as he went inside the house. Erik was laying at the bottom of the stairs and Nicky had been right. That was a bone. But no way in hell was Andrew calling an ambulance for a broken arm.

Andrew grunted. Hopefully the big lump didn’t have a concussion or any other unnecessary trauma, but there was a big chance that Andrew could help his cousin in law. He crouched and took the pen light out of his shirt pocket. It helped that he’d gone straight into the garden from work. It wasn’t like he normally changed into sweaters when he got home. He never knew when he would be called in again or if Katelyn was coming over.

“Look right, look up.” He gave a couple more orders and checked his neck and head before letting Erik sit up. Both Nicky and him said he hadn’t hit his head. Just a poor fall.

“We have to get you to the hospital to set your arm. I haven’t set one in a while but I know someone who does. I can ring her up.” He looked up at his cousin and brother. “I’m taking Erik. Can the two of you stay at home. Get some tea into Nicky. Erik and I will be back in an hour or two depending on Renee and the amount of available rooms.”

Nicky nodded and helped get his husband off the floor. Erik’s arm was put in a sling made out of two kitchen towels. They put him in the car and Nicky didn’t even threaten Andrew to bring his husband back safe or to not kill himself on the road. Maybe he finally started trusting Andrew some more. He definitely hadn’t finally gotten a brain.

Andrew dialled Renee during the car ride. He was steadily ignoring Erik’s stare and focusing on the road and on getting a room and personnel ready. If only someone on his own team was used to setting bones. But no, they were all stuck with the knowledge of how to cut open a living body and close it before it died.

Useless knowledge. For anyone that wasn’t a surgeon or encountering life threatening situations that is.

Renee met him at the door and let Erik straight into a room to get pictures taken. She was good at this. It was one of the reasons he befriended her at first. The second was that she was less stupid than his other colleagues. Renee came in with the pictures and started explaining the wound. Andrew saw Erik nodding, almost as if he was either going to fall asleep or faint. He pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket and handed it over without diverting his eyes from Renee. He absolutely did not see the grateful look when Erik ripped it open with his teeth.

She set the bone like it was her job. Which it was. In the end it only took her forty-five minutes for everything and send them off with an order for Andrew to buy him a coffee.

They sat down at one of the tables with gross, steaming cups. Erik was texting Nicky the news. There was probably some other stuff in there that Andrew didn’t want to know. He’d had enough of their sex life during their college years. Phone sex was not something you wanted to witness. Especially not when it’s your cousin.

Andrew felt eyes burning into him. From two sides. One was Erik who was trying to talk to him. Even if Andrew was close to passing out from a tough work day and having to drive his cousin back to said work. The other pair of eyes were from Neil. He was looking almost thoughtful and started coming over.

Andrew almost started believing in Nicky’s god just so he could pray for Neil to stay away.

Of course it didn’t work. Neil stopped next to the table and smiled. Andrew had seen that smile. Had almost walked into a wall because of it. Still he hadn’t had it turned on him ever before. He would’ve fallen out of his chair if he wasn’t Andrew Joseph Minyard.

“Hey, Andrew. I thought you’d gone home.” He bit the inside of his cheek. Andrew did not notice that. At all.

“To your boyfriend,” Neil added hastily.

Erik started laughing spitting his coffee back in the cup to keep from choking on it. Andrew just grimaced. That was gross. He had to admit Nicky didn’t have a bad taste in man but the thought of dating Erik left a bad taste in his mouth.

“I live with my brother. My cousin and his husband came to visit from Germany. This is his husband.”

“Guten Abend, Andrews Cousins Ehemann. Wie geht’s Ihnen?” Neil adressed Erik in fluent German.

Erik responded back in German. A lesser man than Andrew would’ve been shocked out of his mind. He never would’ve thought that Neil could speak German. Especially that well. The only reason Andrew could were because of Erik, Nicky and Camilla. He didn’t expect the little girl to speak English after all. He’d rather her learn Spanish anyway. Even if Nicky’s Mexican mom was a bitch she was less so than her husband, so her language should come first in her repertoire.

Andrew drank the last sledges of coffee before cutting into the conversation. “Nicky will start bothering me if I don’t get you back soon.”

He stood up and pulled on his black coat. Neil’s eyes didn’t so much as roam his body as train his eyes on Andrew’s face. Especially his mouth and his own eyes.

“You owe me a cigarette,” Andrew simply said before dragging his cousin in law out. He didn’t miss the quirk on Neil lips nor the one on Erik’s. He also pointedly ignored Erik’s questions about Neil and how much they saw each other. If they worked in the same department. He didn’t say anything.

At the end of the ride Erik had stopped asking and Andrew had started thinking that Neil might be more than just an itch he’d wanted to scratch. Neil was more interesting than Andrew had expected and he didn’t like that thought.

Nicky and Erik were almost set to go home. It’d been a little over a week already since Andrew had seen Neil in the hospital that night. They’d smoked behind the building on some days when their breaks coincided but Neil hadn’t said anything about the German. Andrew knew he wouldn’t. Not until Andrew asked and he wouldn’t. Neil had the right to his secrets. The same right Andrew had to his own.

Nicky was trying to get Aaron to wear a suit instead of the T-shirt. Erik was trying to get Andrew to borrow Aaron the car. Andrew was trying to ignore them.

He didn’t lend out his car to anyone. They only got to ride in it as a passenger. It was the only way he could make sure there weren’t more accidents.

More people like Aaron.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and send a single text.

“Come on, Andrew. Aaron hasn’t had a date in years. It’s only one night that he needs it,” Erik said.

Andrew felt the phone buzz and checked the screen. “I can’t lend Aaron the car. I need the car.”

He stood up and began towards the stairs. “Why do you need the car? You were staying home.”

Erik almost followed him up the stairs and Andrew saw Nicky leaning over the balustrade upstairs.

“I’m meeting a friend.” His face blank. Andrew kept walking up the stairs. He made to swerve around Nicky, it wouldn’t do him well to throw his cousin off the stairs, but Nicky stayed in his path.

“Just a friend?” Nicky asked.

“Is it pretty hospital guy?” Erik followed up. Oh, those two were made for each other alright. Both annoying.

Andrew didn’t answer and went into his room.

Neil probably wouldn’t understand that this was technically a date. Andrew had send him a time and an address with a show up if you want to. A bit ominous but quite Andrew.

He pulled on his normal clothes. Things like his black turtleneck and skinny jeans, his combat boots should be somewhere in the back of the closet. Behind the box of all the old study books he didn’t have to read anymore. They were clothes that he couldn’t wear to work. The clothes he felt most comfortable in.

He almost didn’t bother with his hair. Neil probably wouldn’t notice the effort anyway. Still he did it. He wanted to impress Neil for the not-date. O god. Neil didn’t know it was a date. If the guy was as oblivious as Kevin always implied he might even show up in track pants. Well, here’s for hoping. It wasn’t like Andrew couldn’t leave him in the restaurant if he showed up like a hobo.

He walked down the stairs. Passed his brother, straightened Aaron’s ugly blue tie, and let Nicky pat him on the shoulder. It was a step up from the hugging. Not great, but okay.

The doors shut behind him. Knowing he was coming back there to his brother and cousin was the only reason he didn’t freak out at the change. It had been them, the two of them, for so long- He didn’t know if he liked adding people to the mix. Although he had to admit that Erik hadn’t been that bad of an addition.

Maybe Katelyn wouldn’t be an atrocity either. Neil would probably be awful if he finally figured out it was a date. Maybe Andrew should tell him. Yes, he should. He would. That’s right. Just when Neil arrived, to clear the air between them.

Andrew did not get a chance to broach that topic. He was already sat at one of the tables in the too fancy restaurant when Neil walked in. He was wearing skinny jeans, for god’s sake, and a long sleeved shirt that showed his muscles off too well.

Neil sat down opposite to Andrew and immediately took a sip of the champagne. “Matt said this is a date.”

He took another sip and swooshed it around in his mouth. “That you’ve been eyeing me for a while and I was oblivious.”

“Did he also make you wear those jeans?”

“He did,” Neil smiled, “do you like them?”

“They’re less terrible than your usual attire.”

Neil smiled again. A big, toothy grin that took Andrew’s breath away like a stolen cigarette. Neil put his glass aside and grabbed his menu. “Oh, they haveEscargots, one thing I never want to eat again.”

“Jean from oncology said they are better in France anyway.”

Neil hummed. He closed the menu and tapped his long fingers on top of it. “Tried them there. Didn’t like them. The texture just isn’t for me. I think I’m going with hare steak. Have you ever tried that?”

Andrew shook his head. He picked out his own dish and closed the card. “My cousin made me promise to never eat bunnies. I don’t go back on my promises.”

Andrew looked down at the embossed letter on the menu to avoid Neil’s face.

“You never answered my question,” Neil said.

“You didn’t ask one.” Andrew raised a single eyebrow.

“Is this a date?”

“Yes or no, Neil?” Andrew finally looked up. He found the blue and thought of the hottest part of a flame. Looked at Neil and thought of all the secrets shared on dirty hospital steps. He hoped for an answer and wished Neil would say no. Andrew had been a danger to everyone for years. He didn’t deserve someone like Neil. Someone who gave those secrets away like they were loose change and Andrew was a beggar.

He’d promised himself to never beg again but he thought that he might cave a single please to never find his brother in a hospital bed again.

“Yes, Andrew. I want to be on this date with you.”

Andrew nodded. His eyes back to the embossed letters and his fingers tracing the curves until Neil’s hand came into sight. Close but not touching.

When Andrew looked up the waiter was waiting for his order. “The salmon.”

Neil smiled like he had known what Andrew was going to say before the words had even left his mouth. Andrew didn’t know if he liked it.

Conversation with Neil wasn’t like anything Andrew had with anyone else. It was wild and quiet and outrages and calming and so many different things. Sometimes it was completely silent but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither had realized just how used to each other they had become with all those hours.

Hours Andrew got the evil eye for when he got home late for Aaron. He realised they those hours had been worth it. Having conversations with someone who treated him like just another human were worth it.

Someone other than Bee or Renee. Someone he could actually like over time.

If he’d ask the ladies they’d say this was good. In all honesty, and Andrew despised lying, he was terrified. Limiting Aaron’s sexual and romantic endeavours had also meant staying on his own himself. He couldn’t feel sorry for that but he was glad he could feel the fear after all those years.

Was glad to have Neil sitting at the table with him when they already trusted each other.

And if Andrew fantasized that night about Neil’s lips on his he wouldn’t tell anyone himself.

Andrew crossed his legs. He counted to sixty before uncrossing them. Nicky was supposed to be here already. Andrew had forgotten the burritos at home and Nicky had sworn he’d bring them. Andrew had forgotten that Nicky was always late.

Finally the doors opened to let Nicky in. His dark skin looked sickish in the hospital light. Then again who didn’t look ill in a hospital? Maybe Andrew because his completion was already as pale as that stupid Edward Cullen guy.

Nicky didn’t just hand over the burritos and left. He just asked if they were allowed to eat where they sat and started unpacking his bag. He pulled out drinks and food and sauce and-

“Nicky, you said you were bringing a single burrito.” Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“I’m bringing lunch. I’m leaving soon and I’ve barely seen you because of your work. Which great, you’re saving people. I even saw the girl that patched Erik up outside. She said you have a picture of us and our little girl.”

“She’s lying,” Andrew deadpanned. “Renee doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Nicky started arguing but fell silent. “Is that redhead who I think it is?”

Andrew turned around to stare in the same direction. Neil’s hair was almost brown under the hospital lights but the smile on his face made him light up from within. They stared for a minute. Neil’s laughter echoing through the hall.

His head turned and his eyes fell on Andrew, than on Nicky. His soft smile spread across his face as he waved and started walking over. Andrew wouldn’t have minded it if Nicky hadn’t been sitting next to him. Nicky had in no way brought enough burritos for all three of them.

“Is this the husband of mr. My Cousins Husband?” Neil said. He was just standing there. Right next to him. His hair a mess of auburn curls and his hands hung loose by his side. He looked great, even in uniform. That might even help.

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked first.” Neil smirked and extended a hand. “I’m Neil.”

“You are the date!” Nicky’s grin took up his whole face. “I’m Nicky, grumpy’s cousin. I hear you’ve met my husband.”

Neil nodded. He pulled his hand back a little too quick. Nicky probably didn’t notice. Andrew noticed everything.

“Join us for lunch?” Nicky looked a bit too hopeful but Andrew already knew Neil had to get back to work in a couple of minutes.

“Only if this counts as our second date, or should I just text you an address for tonight?” He was pretty sure that if he lifted his eyebrow any higher they’d disappear in his hair.

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Text me the address and get back to work.”

Neil’s smile was sharp and shark like but Andrew thought he liked it. Nicky certainly did. Andrew didn’t feel sorry when he kicked his cousin over it.

Andrew was waiting in his car. Neil said he’d get there in about ten minutes. Apparently the loser didn’t have a car. He should’ve mentioned it. Andrew would’ve picked him up. Too late for that now. He said Boyd was bringing him. Nicky had said they sounded like high schoolers. Andrew as the cool guy in his car and Neil being brought by his unofficial dad.

His phone rang and the vibrations made an annoying sound in the cup holder. Or phone holder, as Andrew used it. “Minyard.”

“Andrew,” Renee said. “We need you to get here for an emergency, all the other surgeons are unavailable.”

He turned his key in the ignition and drove off. Neil would understand.

“Tell me who and what,” he ordered.

“Young man, no allergies or prior surgeries. There was nothing wrong with him but well-”

“Spill it, Renee.”

“It’s Neil Josten. Matt was driving him to a date and they got into a crash. Matt was fine but someone drove into Neil’s side of the car. There’s some glass shards in his upper body and we’re afraid he might have a collapsed lung.”

Neil. It was Neil. Neil who was supposed to be arriving at that same restaurant in three minutes.

Andrew tried not to think about the similarities between his brother and his date. Tried not to think that Neil might already be dead before he even arrived at the hospital.

Andrew had never gotten to the hospital that fast.

Getting ready for surgery was a blur and it might not be the safest thing to let him operate half in shock. It wasn’t like they had any other choice. Kevin and the other surgeons were all busy or out of the country or too far away to be able to save him.

There were scalpels and blood and flat lungs and almost flat liners and glass on its way to Neil’s heart to stop it before Andrew could save the one person willing to date him. The one person he was willing to date.

Neil had always respected his boundaries and now Andrew was breaking all of his to save Neil’s live. It was worth it. Even if Neil would hate him for putting him on display, at least he’d be alive because if there was one thing Andrew was good at it was saving life. Stitching skin to keep someone from bleeding out and dying on his table.

The surgery took too long and too short and Renee pumped sugary drinks and food into him when it was done to try and get him out of the minor shock. He was a mess and he knew it but he didn’t talk. Couldn’t say anything. Not to Renee, not to Bee, not to his brother and cousin when they came by in the hospital room to see if Neil was doing any better.

Only there were no signs he was getting better. Yes, his wounds were closing, but Neil was still asleep. His right arm and leg still broken and his mind dormant. Andrew hated it every time he set foot in that stupid room.

His reprieve was work. Work and Aaron. His brother who saw Andrew much the same as he had been years ago. His brother who must see that this was no different than when Aaron lay there much the same way.

A car accident. A couple broken bones. A heart so close to stopping that Andrew was willing to give his own. He wouldn’t die to save Neil but the feeling came close enough.

It took a week for Neil to wake up. Andrew was sitting next to his bed, his head propped on his arm as he read.

“Andrew,” a soft voice croaked. Andrew quickly set down his book and moved the glass of water with a straw to Neil’s mouth.

“Spare your voice. You’ve been out for a week. You could’ve just told me if you didn’t want to go on a second date.”

Neil almost missed the quirk of his lips when he said that. It was a sad one.

“I did. Fucker in the other car ran through red. Must’ve.”

Neil was right. Andrew didn’t want to know how he could still remember that.

“Take a nap, Neil. You need to rest.” Neil nodded but moved his hand to grab Andrew’s. “Stay, yes or no?”

“It’s always yes with you,” Neil said before passing out again.

Andrew turned to his book. His heart started beating again. A shade so dark it was almost black. Rotten from years of neglect and disuse. Years in which he was denied love and care. A heart so dark he thought nobody would see through but his friends had grabbed candles and flashlights and decided they would be his light until he found his own. Now there was enough light. Not a lot but enough. Light for his family, for Bee and Renee and now for Neil. Because Neil wanted him to stay. For however long that was Andrew would take it. He would stay for Neil.

#noa writes tfc #i wrote stuff #time for the hiatus i dont feel like taking anymore #but alas i need to take a break #doctor andrew #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #neil josten #andrew minyard

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wordsinherhand · 4 years

Text

Stuck

2 Corinthians 4:16-17 (ESV)

16 So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.

17 For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, Do you ever find yourself stuck, that it seemed like you cannot see the direction of where you are going, the dreams you have cultivated a year or two ago seemed like it is on pause and you just felt frozen in time and place?

I was in that box for a month. But, today, although it was kind of late, I did some editing and video making of a promotional video and posting for a work that I have placed on hold, because of that feeling in that one month. And I feel contented and pleased! Applause is in order!

Why was I stuck for a month? After I took the greatest decision to separate from my partner early this year which was a whole moment of freedom for me, next was the Lunar New Year which I felt was not really celebratory but yet still meaningful and after it ended, I was figuratively paralyzed in my mind and heart. I felt like I had no future, so unsure of what to do next. It probably happened as I was transitioning into singleness. Where making decisions requires it to come from me, without having another person’s requirement to affect my decisions, and that whatever I should decide, I must take into account how it would impact my toddler.

Have you ever make big decisions on your own? If you have not, who was it that have a huge influence in your decision making stance? Were they necessary in most of the decisions you made?

I can identify two things that had made me stuck for one whole month, unable to move forward, nor did I want to look back and return to my old life. Here it is:-

1. WANT IT NOW

I have so much going on in my mind. I wanted to sew, draw, create videos, design posters, practice my guitar, memorize songs, go jogging, go out on a date with my toddler, hang out with the girls, etc. There is just so much I wanted to accomplish and I want to get it done YESTERDAY.

I was chasing after false sense of accomplishment. I thought if I could get ALL of the list done in a short time, it is because I am suppose to succeed in doing them for I am hardworking and are trying my absolute best to do it. Because of that, when the things I planned wasn’t going according to the way I wanted it, the slightest,tiniest disturbance of my schedule will disrupt my sense of accomplishment, and that stumped me in my place. I will become frustrated, angry and eventually I will just eat up the frustration and stop doing the plan I laid out and just stare at my phone for hours to numb myself from the frustration and defeat.

2. ASKING FROM SENSE OF ENTITLEMENT

I had this mentality that if God wanted me to do it, He will surely provide me the means to do it, with such strong sense of entitlement. For example, I can play the guitar ( rusty skill now since I left guitar for almost a decade, but this is the entitled me thinking ) but there is no need for me to practice until God calls me to use the guitar somewhere.

This pride, stopped me from really focusing on playing, and like the point above, if I did pick the guitar up to play, the moment something disrupts my guitar playing session, I will just stop because of annoyance and angry because someone or something trying to stop me accomplishing something in that moment.

I will then proceed “righteous” prayer, asking God to come back faster , or to bring me into my calling sooner, so that I do not have to “suffer” the “world” trying to stop me pursuing God’s calling for me.

It is not wrong to pray such way, it is something we should pray for, for our purpose in life to come to pass, for us to meet the Lord and rejoice in His magnificent presence! But, most of the time our prayer sounds like we are asking God to move in our terms, in the way we like and how we want it. Your prayer that says “ Lord, You can change my situation now” will not change anything, there will be no break through, there will be no visible direction because you are clouded by ‘me,me,me,mine,mine,mine’ mentality. When your prayer change to “Lord, You can change me for this situation now,” God’s hand move mightily. And I am experiencing that now.

THE PRAYER

Psalm 37:7 , 18

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices! The Lord knows the days of the blameless, and their heritage will remain forever;

Jeremiah 29:11

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

When I changed my prayer, my eyes, my heart was instantly shaken. I prayed, or in better words, I cried to God honestly, I cry out to the Father who created me in my mother’s womb, of the things that I see in my heart that is holding me back. My idea of success, accomplishment, expectations, all went out of the window of my mind, as God was changing my worldy idea of accomplishments and success, into a Kingdom mindset of accomplishments and success.

Within that one moment of change, I came into a realization that I need Him to change ME, not my situation. I then cried out to God the Father, I spilled out all my concerns, my worries, my lacking and my dreams, I told Him the aching desires in my heart, the things I want for myself and my child, and after that episode, I hear Him say , “ Be still, fret not over other’s accomplishments, I know what is to come in your life, and you know My plans for you is not to harm,”

The awareness of knowing He is in control, that His love will lead me to where He needs me to be eventually, opened my eyes to just steward myself in ways He would want me to.

Taking one step at a time to work with what I have now without strive is so rewarding. He renews me daily for the work I need to get done for the day.

I am a mother, a daughter, a friend, a servant in Children Ministry, an aspiring decor entrepreneur that really has no idea where or how will I be financially stable but in Him will I trust, and I will do all of what I am called into NOW, one step at a time.

I will serve my daughter with smiles, I will serve my parents joyfully, I will chit chat with my friends happily, I will do the things I have now with peace.

I am currently writing too, as a way to tell God and myself, I will not delay just because there is no channel, I will write on Tumblr (because gifs reactions and no one reads on Tumblr, so that I can practise writing without the weight of having an audience) to sharpen my writing skill.

If you are stuck, allow God to check your heart. Sometimes, changing the one verb or adjectives in your prayer shifts your eyes to the Father’s will in you.

Allow yourself to be vulnerable, and when you see there is something need to be dealt with, within you, do not condemn yourself of the things you find ugly but immediately give all that ugliness into His hand, because beating yourself up will not help you get your breakthrough, telling yourself you are no good is not your job to do, you are in no position to judge others so you are also in no position to judge even yourself, so, give it all to Him will most certainly bring you into a new place of freedom, just go to Him without fear. He is there for you.

#stuck #HisPlanisgood #GodisGood #JesusisKing #heartcondition #prayerchangesthings #entitled #now #senseofurgency

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thewildheroine · 5 years

Text

Fly Away |Thirty|

Warnings: Abuse mentions, language

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Yo okay so tumblr fuckignjlbshfalbdh deleted my shit before I even got the chance to post, so here’s my second go at it :(((((((( Sorry that it’s so brief but I’m still a little rusty. I hope you guys enjoy and if you like it please reblog loves!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

|Masterlist|

“How can I survive this without my magic, Heather?” I wonder, already sensing that the vortex is trying to suck me up again. We’ve been walking for a long time, though I have no idea how long. Time is non-existent here and the miles we walk become the ones in front of us. Everything here is simply infinite. Well... as simple as infinity can get.

Heather smiles softly, as always, knowing something I don’t. “It’s your magic, Y/N.”

“No, it’s not,” I whisper, despair settling in like a cruel disease. “I gave it to Dormammu. I’m not a sorceress anymore. I’m not the Bluebird.”

“Glinda…” Heather murmurs sweetly, using the ancient nickname before grabbing my hand and holding against her chest. “Your magic is your soul, and as long as you’re alive your soul will want to come home.” She turns away from me, looking into the white abyss. I follow her eyes and immediately shrink backward. A swirling, opalescent hurricane has opened up overhead. Fearing the worst, I look at my free hand. My suspicions are confirmed where I see my fingers fading into dust before being sucked into the vortex.

“Heather-” I have to measure the questions I could ask in a split second. “What’s happening?” I finally murmur in a desperate voice.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” she asserts. “What does is that you escape. You can only do it with magic.”

“Which I don’t have,” I remind her, growing slightly impatient. Suddenly a look spreads over her face. The look. The look she’d give me everything time she came up with a horrible idea, and I already know what her idea is. “No,” I growl, indignant even when I’m running out of time. “There is no way I’m doing that Heather.”

“Why not?” I roll my eyes and spare the hurricane another frightened glace.

“Because he won’t just give up his magic to me, and I obviously can’t take it.” I hold up my hands frustratedly, showing her that I don’t have the magic to pull my father’s away from him. “I have nothing, and it wouldn’t even be enough to get me out of the hell hole he’s going to throw me in!” I feel guilty for being angry towards Heather after so many years of not seeing her- of believing she was dead. After everything though, after being tortured and haunted and taken advantage of it’s so easy to be angry. Even with Heather.

Despite my outburst, her eyes remain patient though. Her loving purple eyes. “Then fight,” she whispers, and I finally catch a glimpse of something unusual in her eyes. Guilt. Like she’s in on some sort of universal secret I don’t know about. I open my mouth to say something back, but instead, I’m only left with her voice murmuring ideas straight to my mind.

Take in your surroundings.

When I open my eyes tears that I hadn’t even known existed are streaming down my cheeks. I’m on a bed. One softer than even the one at the base. The springs don’t ache below me as I draw in a deep, patient breath. Everything here is white. There’s no detail, just absence. The only thing with color is the different picture frames sitting on the desk and bookshelves. Ones I can’t remember. Ones that are absolutely and entirely fake.

Things are going to be warped.

I stand up from the sofa bed and step towards a bookshelf. On it is a beautifully framed photo. The photo itself is from what seems to be three years ago based on the appearance of my face. I look like I’m thirteen in it. Old enough to trick people into letting me work. To my right is my father, smile glowing on his face in a way I have never seen before, and to my left is a beautiful woman. She has to be just about my height now, and her long, y/h//c hair matches my own. My mom.

It will be based on your father’s mind and everything he’s created

Across the room, I see the glimmer of a mirror. Turning around slowly, I begin to approach the corner in which it stands ominously, ready to show me something just as frightening as this place. As soon as I see myself in the mirror I take a step back. I don’t recognize the girl I just saw. She is unscathed with soft, beautiful skin and hair that seems to gleam in the dim lighting of this room. She is lovely. The image of an angel. There are no ugly scars that mark up her body. Again, I begin walking towards the mirror, this time keeping my eyes locked onto myself. The only similarity I see between the two of us is our eyes, which both hold the same fear.

He will have made everything to be perfect.

I close my eyes and concentrate on Heather’s voice.

Ruin his perfection.

I open my eyes and look towards the exit.

Destroy it.

Gulping, I stumble to the doorway.

Sow chaos into his order.

Staring at the door frame I swear I can see a green haze peeking through. Just like the apartment.

Ravage against everything that place is.

I brace myself once more and place my hand on the cold, bronze knob.

Fight, Y/N.

My hand quakes against the metal. In fact, my whole body does and no matter how hard I will it, it won’t stop.

Fight for me.

I close my eyes and tighten my grip on the handle, trying to push away my fear

Fight for those who raised you.

I suck in a big breath, praying that the extra oxygen may help to slow my racing, aching heart.

Fight for Peter.

I listen closely as the door clicks. My entire body shudders as I open my eyes to stare through the small crack I’ve just created. Through it drifts in the smell of cinnamon, and coffee, and, if I’m not mistaken, chocolate chip cookies.

Most importantly Y/N…

Realizing the air I’ve trapped in my lungs I swing the door open and straighten myself. I clench my free fist and glare at the man and woman who are sitting silently at the table opposite to me.

Fight for yourself…

Everything, every atom in the room, stops as both my parents, the man who I hate and the woman I have never known look towards me, gaping out of absolute bewilderment. My grip on the door handle tightens so much I’m afraid that I may just break it. Knowing it is more likely that I will hurt myself I drop the hand to my side.

Because there is no one in there who can do it for you.

“Y/N,” my father, murmurs in an uncharacteristically soft voice. It takes everything inside of me not to throw myself at him and rip the man to shreds with my bare hands. Instead, I just let my eyes snap to him, fire filling them. “Come sit with us.” He reaches across the table and grabs the woman's hand who visibly shrinks under his touch. My eyes meet her’s suddenly, and I feel my heart quench. I see everything I am in her. Scared eyes. Oh god, we’re both so scared.

“I made cinnamon rolls,” she nods at me, and I immediately understand that she isn’t telling me, but warning me. I gulp and take another glance at my father. Although his expression is still soft I can see the slight strain in his expression.

My fingers unwrap themselves so they are no longer clenched and I try to force some sort of pleasantness into my expression. Biting my lip, I make my way towards the table. My mother has already made me a plate and wordlessly she slides it towards me as I take a seat.

“Thank you,” I mumble my first words in this warped place. When I look up she smiles at me softly and I find myself curious about what exactly she’s thinking of. I wonder if she’s imagining a different lifetime. One where my father and husband wasn’t so cruel. One where she was allowed the chance to raise me throughout my childhood. One where I could learn magic on my own terms. One where I was loved day in and day out. One where she taught me how to be strong and how to fight. One where she helped pick out homecoming dresses and threatened the boys who’d come by the house.

“Of course Y/N,” my mom whispers back. Her voice is not sweet. It is hoarse from a hundred battle cries. She has scars over the entire extent of her body. Ones on her collar bones that have turned a pale shade of their original tone. There are puffy brands that seem to be the result of brands. On her arm, the only part of her that doesn’t seem to be marked by pain, is the mark of the Valkrie. She follows my eyes to the dark brown tattoo and smiles. There’s something reminiscent in her eyes. Like somehow, serving Asgardian royalty was a simpler time. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

Wordlessly, I cut through my cinnamon roll, keeping my eyes down. Both of their eyes are on me. I can feel them.

Even as my father reaches his other hand across the table to cover mine I keep my eyes on my food. She had to have had a reason for why she interfered before I let my anger get the best of me. When his ice-cold hand lands on mine I flinch. Goosebumps appear on my forearms and I shiver as quietly as I can manage.

“Now Icarus,” I feel the need to choke on the nickname. No one has called me that in six years. The last time I heard it was the day before my tenth birthday. “I know this is a big change, but I just want you to know the rules.” I furrow my brows and look up at him through a thin curtain of hair.

“Rules?” I question. My voice is alarmingly vulnerable.

“Of course.” My father’s grip on my hand tightens suddenly, and I feel my knuckles crack. “All you need to do is listen to me.” Unable to stop myself, I scoff and look back down at my cinnamon roll.

“It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Excuse me?”

“Y/N,” my mother pleads from her spot on the table. Suddenly, I begin wondering how many of those scars really happened in battle.

“You take away my magic, my choice,” I throw my fork down on the plate, “my family.” All of the sudden my father yanks me towards him. My ribcage hits the edge of the table and I wince out loud, pain bursting through my chest. The second I look up I’m faced with my father, whose eyes are filled with molten lava. I don’t shrink under his gaze though. Something about my mother has given me back my iron heart so that I can face him with my head held high.

“We are your family, Y/N,” he retorts, his voice stern. I scowl and shake my head side to side.

“To me,” I rip away from his grasp, “you are the man who destroyed my childhood, and she is just the women I’ve met in my dreams. You are not my family, and you cannot control me.”

Everyone is silent as though we’re waiting to see if I back down. I’m even waiting for my resolve to falter. It doesn’t though. My eyes stay cold, indifferent to the man in front of me, and after so many years of his torture and abuse and manipulations, I see all the power in his eyes fade away. He has nothing left to hurt me, and therefore he has lost control.

Finally, he drops his eyes and reaches to grab his napkin. I watch attentively as he rubs the white cloth against the corners of his mouth, his eyes still cast down. My mother’s fear rolls off her shoulders and towards me, but I do not look away. When my father looks up again he’s angry, yet he doesn’t know where to put it all.

Abruptly, he stands from the table, the legs of his chair screeching against the marble floors. I watch as he numbly tosses the napkin onto his plate. My mother, on the other hand, bows her head and goes back to picking at her food. Once he can manage to look me in my eyes my father glares down at me, raising his finger accusingly.

“I want this place cleaned up by the time I get back for dinner.” My expression remains blank as my father stalks over to a hallway that I assume leads to an exit. Both my mom and I watch as he disappears. Once he’s gone her eyes are on the side of my head again. I swallow and tear off a piece of my roll.

I’ve walked throughout the entire house five times over, but I still can’t get used to it. As a child, it was everything I hoped for. It’s all so pure. Everything is so perfect. Even the air. Breathing it in I find that it smells like the ocean. There are windows covering an entire wall, and they all look out on an infinite sea of clouds. Everything is white. The floors are white marble, the ceilings are white arches. It’s like this place has been waiting for my arrival so that I may color it myself.

I think this is everything I wanted. When I was young at least. I wanted a place that felt pure, a place where I felt pure, but now I want nothing more than to be sitting at the kitchen island, basking in the rays of the real sun, which I have taken for granted so much, as Peter traces the scars covering my hands. The only imperfections in this entire place are the ones that cover my mother. I don’t even have imperfections anymore. He’s taken those away as well.

“It’s beautiful out there,” she remarks behind me, as though just the thought of my mom summoned her. “It reminds me of Asgard,” my mom continues under her breath as she slowly approaches the windows. “I loved it there, you know? It was always so beautiful.” I turn towards her, curiosity getting the best of me.

“Then why did you come to Earth,” I question. My mother smiles, remembering.

“I suppose it was my disregard for authority that prompted them to exile me.” She places a scarred hand against the glass. The clouds seemingly shift beneath her gaze, and I’m stunned to see them part, revealing the true, pearly ocean beneath.

“Glad to know where I got it from,” I scoff, trying my hardest to hide my amazement. Glad to know where I got everything from.

“I know I’m not your mother, Y/N,” she informs all of the sudden, and I find myself at an immediate loss for words. “I have no right to be. I wasn’t there for any of it. Your childhood.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” I remind her.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you aren’t my daughter, nor are you your father’s.” She beams at the beautiful sky, shining its perfection down on us. “I believe someone else deserves that honor far more than us.” I find myself gawking at the women before me, finding something about her so very unbelievable. I don’t understand how I can see so much of myself in her, and how she can see just as much of herself in me, and yet she understands that I can’t think of her as my… mom. I know she is. I know she and I share blood, but she isn’t my mom, and it is so incredibly amazing to me that she knows that.

“How’d you end up with that monster?” I laugh quietly. She’s so good and kind and the fact that she managed to end up with my father is unfathomable.

“He wasn’t always a monster. Before Dormammu found him, he was good, Y/N. He was a man who could’ve loved you properly.” Tears rim her eyes as she remembers a man who I do not know. “He called you Icarus before you were born, too.”

“Well, it’s not really endearing, huh?” I shake my head and look out at the endless sky. “He told me that story to remind me that I am not permitted to fly away. That’s how he phrased it you know. Fly away. Every damn time. He always said it like I was a goddamn broken bird that couldn’t escape.” I wish that I could take hold of my magic at this moment, but it is gone. It can’t rumble in my fingertips anymore.

“That wasn’t the reason he called you Icarus before you were born,” she informs confidently. “In Asgard, we had our own version of the story.” The woman looks to me, our eyes mirroring each other. “An intelligent father created wax wings so that he and his son may escape a cruel king, but the child, Icarus, flew too close to the sun. I assume you know what happens next.”

“Of course,” I mumble. “He falls to the ocean and drowns. His father drags him out and curses his own genius. I’ve heard it a thousand times.”

“Icarus didn’t drown.” My mom looks at me closely. “She fell to the waves and she sunk, and sunk, and sunk, but she never hit the ocean floor. Instead, she was reborn on the other side with wings made of sunlight.” Suddenly, she grabs onto both of my shoulders and turns me towards her. There is an intensity in her eyes that I have yet to know from her. “It’s time for you to fly away, Y/N, and I know how.”

A/N: I just want to say thank you to all those who welcomed me back after my impromptu hiatus. I love you all so much and to have had your support for nearly a year now is incredible!

If you would like to be tagged shoot me a message in my inbox or comment below. Please reblog if you guys enjoyed to let others know about the story.❤️❤️❤️❤️

Tag List

@jadepc / @paigeyisme / @unlikelygalaxygiver / @lubrielx / @why-am-I-here-again-shitheads / @meoodle / @nexitye / @akarah-sommah / @literally-just-for-fanfics / @lafayettes-baguettes-1 / @dizzy-izzy / @artofotherness / @georgiiamat / @asianromelle / @prancingdestiel / @bands-and-shietz / @the-fandom-ness / @anise-d-castle6 / @purplecactl / @mummy-woves-you / @saturn-aka-six / @alilblogger / @star-gaziing / @southsidespidey / @hansbrak / @jellybean-gg / @taegukgis

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hannah-deactivated20220725 · 4 years

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🥰🥰🥰🥰 I miss you so much, Dawnyyyy!!!!

Reasons Why I Love You

Now, I know that I have already started showing appreciation to people through TPP and BotW, but you guys (well, most of you) know me… when I get to drinking, I get to loving.

Well, okay, I haven’t even opened my bottle yet, but this is some pre-drink love. :p

(btw, I recommend every blog on this list to you guys!)

Okay, so there’s a few people that have really stuck things out with me through an amount of time. And I know generally when I make these, I try to make them about new friends (and I will probably end up doing one of those today as well, but for now…), but right now I just want to make an appreciation post for people that have stuck it out with me through the highs and lows of this blog, because trust me… I am not ALWAYS so social and chipper.

So! Without further ado…

The first person I wish to recognize is @franky-ts. She is one of my first friends I made on tumblr, if not THE first (out of the people I still talk to). We call each other our twins/sisters because we’re so alike and are both Tauruses with water moons (mine’s Pisces; hers is Scorpio). She is so fun to talk to and she is always willing to lend a listening ear, no matter if it’s good bad or ugly. She’s been here for me for years! Since like 2014 or 2015! I’m so grateful to have a friend who’s always there for me and who lets me return the favor. We have picked each other up from so many lonely nights and so many tears and such… and I’m so grateful to know you. I hope to get to know you in person one day, that would be such a dream!

Next I wanna talk about @mvcreates. Mina, much like Franka, is a woman that has been here to talk me through a LOT. And she is incredibly patient and understanding. And intelligent! And wiiise. She always knows what to say and how to say it to make me feel better or to calm me down when I’m freaking out.

But it’s not just that. She’s so in love, and it’s so obvious and so inspiring. I love and look up to her relationship in ways that very few relationships have ACTUALLY inspired me. I love this girl and I’m so grateful to the interweb Lord for putting her in my path because I can’t imagine tumblr without having such amazing friends such as her.

@leave-her-a-tome is next. Our friendship started with a comment on an idea post of mine about Death Has a Face, when Ikuisuus was only a concept, a random idea that popped into my head. She said she loved the idea and that it’d inspired her to draw something, and the beautiful friendship blossomed from there. Now it’s been over a year (can you believe that!?) of friendship and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Eris inspires me in many ways. Her kindness, her friendliness, her TALENT!!! I mean, have you seen the drawings she made for that WIP? Good god is she talented!!! Eris is amazing through-and-through and I’m so glad to have her in my life. We haven’t chatted as much as I’d like, but that’s probably a lot my fault. I focus so much on making new friends, sometimes I’m not the greatest at maintaining my current friendships. I hope to end that trend soon.

Then there’s @dawnoftheagez. Dawny-poo, as I call her. ;) Dawn is one of the first people to show my new writing on this new blog the enthusiasm and support and LOVE that she did. But it was more than that. She shows ME love and support every time we talk. She’s always checking up on me. She’s always making sure I’m okay. Yes, I have other friends that do it too, but she does it every time we talk. She genuinely cares about me, as I do her. And I hope she lives the happiest life she possibly can.

Next up is @jade-island-lives. Good god. Jade. My girl. My little mermaid-loving girl. One of the people I got closest to the fastest (along with Franka and Dawn). She is so friendly, so talented, and it breaks my heart when I see her suffering or doubting herself. She has so much to offer this world, and I wish the world would reciprocate the love and effort that she puts out. I hope that you live the happiest life possible as well, Jade, because you deserve to be happy, to feel safe and to feel at home. You deserve to be HAPPY with your life and to have confidence in everything you do, because frankly… everything you do leaves me speechless and awe-inspired.

@gloriousdevourerofstories - we haven’t spoken much lately. But I still consider you a dear friend. A wonderful mutual since the days of my old blog and so fun and exciting to talk to! Her love for reading and writing knows no bounds and she will support you no matter what. She deserves to have the same love and support and enthusiasm that she gives to others. I hope that you are happy. We haven’t really spoken in a while, but I hope whatever you’re up to, you’re happy doing it.

@confundere. Girl. Another great friend that I received through the blessing of support. You are… amazing. Such a blessing on this world. You are so warm and friendly and sweet, so fun to chat with and get to know. Someone I feel like I can open up to, even when you say the wrong thing or don’t know what to say… I still know you have my back because you genuinely care and I not only appreciate that about you, but it’s only one of the many reasons why I love you. You are an absolute sweetheart and I’m so glad to have met you on this damned site. I’m so grateful to everything you’ve done to me over the last 1+ year(s) and I’m so glad that we’re friends, even if we, too, haven’t really chatted in a while. Thank you for being a friend.

Another one I’ve known for a while, though I’m not really sure if you consider me as much of a friend as I consider you, would be @fatal-blow. Your art… is inspiring. It’s SO BEAUTIFUL! You are SO full of talent that it just warms and amazes me. You are so friendly! Even when I’m having self-doubts and feeling like my enthusiasm is annoying you, you are right there to reassure me, as many times as I need, that it’s not and that you appreciate it. And I love that; people that are willing to explain and re-explain their thoughts and feelings about things, even though they’ve said it ten, fifteen times… are my favorite kind of people, as a person with pretty damn bad anxiety. So thank you. Also, you’re just awesome.

@ofvisitorsthefairest, we haven’t chatted in a while but I still consider you my friend. People get busy, life happens and I totally get it. But I do appreciate you and your friendliness and how great you are. (: Thank you for being my friend and I hope things are going well for you right now. I hope you’re happy, because you deserve the world. No, the universe. (: stay healthy, friend!

@ramblingsofabourbondrinker is another person that I found again after I came back to tumblr. Though he now goes by his first name instead of his middle name, it was easy to find him because his blog name remained the same. That same ol’ bourbon drinker. :p if we ever meet up, I am totally going to a bar with you! I feel like you’d be such a fun person to drink with and swap random stories & story ideas with. (: I get SO EXCITED every time that I see you on my dash!! I’d be lying if I said you weren’t one of my tumblr crushes. You’re too amazing and wonderful not to be. But I hope that we stay friends, and keep our social life for a long time, because you’re one cool stud xD

@pens-swords-stuff was another of the first people I met through my writeblr, back on my old blog. We used to have long chats via her ask box, long enough that I’d keep having to wait for the hour to be up because I’d always send her all 10 asks within the hour and be too shy to message her. However, Undine is FAR from being a person to be scared of. She is warm and friendly and so helpful! She’s always there for the people that look up to her and that ask her questions, but it’s more than that. She’s isn’t Google for writers. She isn’t here to be used to get ahead in your writing. She is a wonderful, funny, friendly and kind-hearted person that deserves so much out of this life, and I hope she gets it! Thank you for putting up with me all these years, friend. <3

@theshadowsofthenight is someone that, maybe I haven’t spoken to A WHOLE LOT but I still consider a friend. Shadows is so friendly and nice!! And they’re always there to play my prompt games with me (they used to have so much fun with me, playing my 4 random words games, especially when I first started playing them), and I’ve loved every interaction with them. Stay your wonderful, beautiful self, friend!

And I’m sure there are so many that I’m leaving off. But I’m afraid this post is long enough. To every one of you, new and old, thank you so much for following me. Thank you to all of my friends for being my friends and thank you to all of my followers for loving my writing/blog/games/events enough to click that follow button. I hope you’re all having a wonderful week this week so far and now… after this long-winded post… I’m going to finally open my liquor and take my first shot. xD

Thank you, everyone. Good day.

~Hannah S.

#chatterbox #long post #blogger love

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itshaejinju · 7 years

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Jin’s 7 Levels of FF15 Hell

Okay so 7 levels of this Hell but I can’t help myself when it comes to a pretty face and some other choice quality assets.

So @blindbae and @cupnoodle-queen (anyone else do this?) described their adventures in the FF15 Hell well I decided it was time to do it for myself.

Let’s get marching into hell the Hells I live in, darling.

Gladiolus: I live here, my mail comes here. I will always be in a permanent fixture in this hell. I have been a fan girl of Gladiolus since Versus 13 trailers and I was like who is this tank of a man, what’s his story - what’s his number? See his new look on the FF15 promo shit and I’m like, fuck I’m dead. I won’t survive this game. All versions of him just get my attention, like Versus, Brotherhood and the game, slays me. Play the game and I see:

And well, “awesome fan service thanks Square.”

Slowly as we start more into the game I’m just constantly drawn into his appearance, mannerisms (THE CUTEST DORKIEST SNEEZES EVER, reading and overall dorkiness) personality and power house skills just had me on the floor. The fuckin’ cup noodle quest happened after a really shitty day and I laughed the whole time about his over enthused ways about “Ultimate Flavor” and it really made me feel better. Sure his outrage to Noctis on the train and other spots had me yelling at the screen at him, telling him to stop yelling the “Emo Marshmallow” because well Noctis is trying. But I also see Gladiolus’ side of the story as I have been in a similar type of scenario so I felt with both sides. I always wished that instead of the Giglamesh Trials he went to have a funeral father and mourn their death and take a fuckin’ spa day or something.

He is the main reason for my thirst all day everyday, I can’t help myself, I tried and then was like “FUCK it.” So I embrace all of it.

In the fanfics and HC: I love Teddy Bear Gladiolus, rough Gladiolus and all the stuff in between. I love that he’s totally headcanoned to have a cock to rule all cocks. And totally a pervert with a lot of sexual desires. Fills my blackened sinnamon roll heart to the brim. (with cum) That he’s kind, patient (sometimes) and all the things I just enjoy in life.

Blind!Ignis: I visit here on the weekends, always smells like fresh coffee and french toast. It’s like a nice hotel.

At first I was like, “Who is this boy? Who is the mom friend of this group? Was like okay he’s model pretty, good with the daggers and funny with puns. Totally see him as a friend. Slowly he started to grow more than that and making me want to spray him with water to get him away from me.

I was like I can’t handle two hells! Just no please go! *sprays Ignis with a water bottle, hair goes flat around his face, clothes stuck to his body* FUCK YOU LOOK HOTTER. GO!!

Then shit goes down and he gets blinded. *UGLY SOBBING* *A LOT OF UGLY SOBBING* And I was like:

I love that he has zero fucks to give afterwards. He isn’t crying because he can’t see, he’s like “FUCKERS I HAVE A JOB TO DO LET’S GO!” And well that strikes me as sexy as fuck, like instead of breaking down and “woe is me” he soldiers on. It’s not like not blind Ignis is a pansy but it just made it clear to me that once he goes blind he is a strong and fantastic character. So I’m like “well let’s enjoy a cup of ebony any day of the week.”

I fell out of Blind!Ignis hell after playing the game but I visited often as a guilty pleasure. Then the damn Episode Ignis Trailer came out and well I jumped right back in.

And I’ve fully accepted Blind!Ignis hell specially paired with Gladiolus as the fatal GladNis. It really is a nice specially pairing that I enjoy being apart of. GladJuNis

Ravus: I vacation here, it’s so angsty, but cuddly awkward and I love it.

GOD DAMN. He was my guilty pleasure from the second I saw him in Kingsglaive. I didn’t like his character design in Kingsglaive but the voice and the personality was like “OH hello, darling!” So I was like hmm, I bet he will be in the game and I get to deal with him more. *Insert evil cackling*

When he saunters into the game I dropped my controller on the floor and needed to pick up my jaw from the floor. It was a instant panty killer.

I was like he’s a bad guy don’t love him. . .NO LOVE HIM TONS.

So I guilty pleasure loved him, “OH he’s horrid, bad guy!” *OH god can he pin me to the wall with that Magitek arm, PLEASE!?!*

It wasn’t until Tumblr did I fully unleash my love for him and admitted full love to him. In which I gush about him a lot with @stephicness

In the game where you had to kill him I screamed at the television at 2 am, “NO!” I tried my best not to kill him, like was there a way around it not to kill him?! When I realized I had to kill the poor beanpole I started to cry, I was like “I’ll make it quick and clean sweetheart!”

*Insert more ugly sobbing, and damning Square on attacking my feels*

He totally appeals to my tsundere love, the misunderstood character of the story! He was just trying to take care of his sister, sacrificing all he had left for her! Totally has me just wishing things went better for him, he deserved so much better!!!

I have such a strong desire for a steamy jealous fuck fic for him to be written, I just haven’t figured out how to word it right on his parts. But it will be arriving one day soon. *rubs palms together*

Cor: Visit every other weekend. It’s a nice comforting Hell, this are always in order and Cor is vigilant over his residents.

MOOSH’S husband. @themissimmortal Literally my tags say #cor x moosh that comes up whenever I type “cor”.

I didn’t join Cor hell until I met Moosh and read her smuts for him and when I did anons for her and wrote a few fics with him in it for her. I was like hey he’s quite nice, I could get comfy here. I like the idea of shy in front of his girl (moosh) but the fiery passions that embroil his soul releases as he let’s go and loves up on her. Totally a good thing in my book.

Ardyn: THIS FUCKER......

NEW resident of Ardyn Hell.

Just got passed the first wall of tentacles and goop and I’m like okay. . .what am I doing here?

THAT SMUG SMILE.

THAT VOICE.

THAT HAIR.

And aggressive fucking, tentacles and mind play smuts that I’ve been graced with that hits on my deeper kinks made me a prime target. I resisted for quite a while.

Then well I fell into it fully and I’m accepting it as my alternate vacation home. All thanks to @diabolik-trash-heap @valkyrieofardyn and @poisonous-panda

I really enjoy Ravus x Ardyn stuff it is a good toxic pairing for me. I will always keep up with insulting Ardyn and calling him Trash Man and such in hopes that he will have angry sex with me.

Sure those tentacles could do some domestic tasks too! Imagine Ardyn multi tasking with them making you breakfast? Pretty sexy.

Aranea: I’m moving around there like a cat that doesn’t know what side of the door she wants to be on.

MY DRAGOON WIFEY!

She floated on my screen (and my heart) like freaking Mary Poppins. Totally was like, damn, who the fuck is this lady? That hair, voice, eyes, slaying body can we have her on our team?!

PLEASE STEP ON ME.

*high heeled boots stepping on my ass*

Then let me step on you and we can fight back and forth on who is dominant in this situation.

I love her and all her quirks and morals. It makes my day to see her be badass on screen. I want a Episode Aranea bad. Let me learn more about her history!!

Older!Noctis: Hand is on the door, going hmmm, should I?

Regular Edge Lord Noctis appeals to me as much as Cloud Strife, so it’s like yup you’re sexy and all but *wishy washy whiny noises*.

THEN THE CRYSTAL SHIT.

*FLATLINES*

I was like oh hello Noctis, what are you doing later after you take a shower, eat and brush those teeth?

Because call a girl up why don’t you?

He looks a lot more like his dad, the wispy beard going on that hair all long and he is like “I’M READY FOR THIS SHIT!”

FINALLY! *ticker tape parade for Noctis right to my pussy heart*

It’s a hell that I flirt with a lot and when I come across a good King!Noctis fic I’m like . . .there is the door and I have he key. (It’s in the shape of the Royal Boner) But I go “really? Jin should you do this?”

So it’s like I’m almost there. I’m pretty sure @hypaalicious or @cupnoodle-queen or @louisvuittontrashbags will be coming out with some King Noctis smut that will just sell me totally, lock stock and barrel on the Older Noctis stuff. Or @blindbae to write some epic angsty stuff with Older Noctis that sits on my ass, and shake my head in shock. And officially join the 7th layer of my FF15 Hell.

Tagging: @themissimmortal @stephicness @stunninglyignis @blindbae @rubyphilomela @neko-otaku13 @zacklover24 @hypaalicious @louisvuittontrashbags @diabolik-trash-heap @diadyn @mandakatt @mistressoli @sheylann @xnoctits @insomniascure @insomniacapples @fieryfantasy @roses-and-oceans @valkyrieofardyn @highwinds-dragoon @blondechocobobutt @waifuthewhite

#extra ass shit #crazy thirsty jin thoughts #ff15 #7 layers of hell #gladiolus amicitia #blind Ignis #ignis scientia #older noctis #cor leonis #ravus nox fleuret #ravus deserved better #cor x moosh #aranea highwind #ardyn izunia

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thehappymessproject · 7 years

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Wallowing 101 : let yourself feel the pain

Yesterday, I had to answer a lot of similar questions. It seems like a lot of us have a hard time letting themselves feel the pain they are feeling deeper, inside, wearing those closeted feelings on their shoulders, heavy and bitter.

It's only natural to fight something unpleasant. Trouble comes up when avoidance and numbing become the only ways we interact with those feelings. Here are a few leads to let yourself be when you feel really low : First of all, stop doing anything you are doing just in order to avoid unpleasant feelings.

Anything you will do solely so you don't feel bad anymore won't be that rewarding. You need to engage on things you truly value and learn to do them for the sake of them. Like with any kind of physical pain, if you focus solely on not feeling the pain, your life will become an utter nightmare. If you accept that the pain will come and go as it pleases, so in the mean time, all you can do is take the best care of yourself possible, and go on with your life because pain doesn't rule your life. It's just an occasional road companion.

Then instead of trying to change how you feel :

1 - Be compassionate and gentle

Again, if you break your leg, it doesn't make sense to decide you will ignore the pain, get out of the cast and go for a run. Even if you really love to run or you need to run that race. You keep your cast, make sure it doesn't get wet, wait for the bone to heal itself and take it out when the leg is ready. Not when you wish it would be. Being very sad all the time means you need to stop and rest. Protesting that you don't want to be sad, resisting it, avoiding it only make it worse and more susceptible to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

2 - Be mindful

To really engage with your self care you need to be on the moment the more you can. I've written already about easy gates to mindfulness and connecting to yourself (meditation, yoga, writing). Those methods are the most efficient and straight forward. Although any tiny step goes if you are struggling.

Try this easy 5mn grounding exercise : Look around you. Breathe deeply. Find : 5 things you can see. 4 things you can touch. 3 things you can hear. 2 things you can smell. 1 thing you can taste. Very efficient especially if you are panicky.

Other tiny things that help if you really engage with them :

- Eat an apple and just do that for the few next minutes. - Open and close the curtains and watched the difference in lighting. - Listen to a song, keep coming back to it until it's over. Hum it or sing it ideally. - Watch your pet be. Your fish swimming, your cat licking herself, your dog playing. Or interact with them calmly. - When doing any of it, be all at it. Don't rush to the end, take your time. Find ways to enjoy it. Pause and reflect on what's happening in you.

You are going to be distracted, just make a priority out of coming back to your mindful moment. Take your time : nowadays, this is the ultimate luxury.

3 - Ask your Little one inside : "How I can take care of you right now?"

They're the ones who know. It will probably sound childish, something along the lines of 'I want my mummy'. Not that you really want your mom. You don't need anyone in reality.

You need the ‘idea' of a mom. You want to feel safe, nurtured, held, supported, encouraged, loved. We all do when we feel really vulnerable and helpless.

What helps you feel that way? Or How can you engage in what you do so you can feel that way?

4 - Let it go. Whatever it is.

Drop the struggle. Let go of resistance. Stop fighting yourself.

That's a key. I realised a couple of years back that every time I'm getting crazy trying to find "what I am missing", you can be sure I'll end up on "you forgot to accept everything you can't change".

You'll know when you'll let yourself really go. When you'll trust yourself enough to be as big of a mess as you are inside. Any progress is to be celebrated, victory is adding one moment of awareness and gentle presence at the time. Yes. Even if you're gross, ridiculous, weak, stupid, ugly, any awful word you beat yourself up with to avoid feeling whatever you need to feel.

Often, tears are involved, if so, often what I call 'belly crying'. 'Chest crying' is superficial, a bit like when we feel like complaining about everything but wouldn’t know we feel so crappy and snappy. When it happens a lot, it's a cry that means there are a lot of crying that should be happening but isn't. But belly crying feels like our guts are ripped off. Like nothing can help but letting out the suffering. We stop fighting and totally let ourselves go. That’s when the healing can begin, when we can feel all the pain.

It's ok. It's probably scary, unknown, it is going to hurt. But only once you feel the hurt and bleed, only then you can let go of the pain and move on. Unfelt pain feels SO heavy and empty at the same time. It really isn’t worth it on the long run.

5 - "I can't understand why I feel that way" + "I don't know what to do"

Don't look for a why. It'll be wrong anyway, it's always lots of reasons and a lot of randomness.

Right now, you need to feel, not to think. Not to act.

Emotions make us more prone to action. You will feel like you need to do something about it. That doesn't mean it's true or that even if it is that you need to listen to that impulsion. Give you room and time to decide what YOU really want to do. Not what your habits tell you to do.

Stop reflecting. Talking about it. Complain about it. FEEL IT. Where is it in your body? Is it cold? Hot? Hard or soft? Is it still or moving? Does it have a colour? Does it have a pulse? Feelings don't have words. That's our interpretations. Feelings are sensations. Focus on that, leave room for that feeling.

6 - "I don't feel that bad when I let myself go."

That goes with a lot of emotional control. Usually, when a patient is feeling that way, he/she feels stuck, but me saying certain things can actually make them feel very emotional very easily.

If you really don’t know how you feel, try reading those prompts and see what happens, which ones strike a chord when you try them out and imagine they are true (spoiler alert : none of them is more than a thought) : - I feel so lonely. - I feel so helpless. - There's nothing I can do. - I am lost. - I am scared. - I am ashamed. - I am so angry. - I am so disappointed. - No one has my back. - I should be different. - I should feel differently. - I have bad thoughts. 7 - This is your hibernation time. Honour it. Cancel everything that feels unpleasant for a while. Even if you have nothing to do and it's scary or depressing. You need space, the most space you can give yourself. You need space and time to do nothing. To reclaim back your time. It's not to hide yourself because you aren’t presentable : talk about your hibernation, be proud of your ability to know when it's time to retreat and your courage to do so. This isn't defeat. This is strategical self care. You aren't weak, you are smart. You know when you need to rest and recharge. So put your phone on plane mode. Shut down the internet. Stop the time for a while. Retreat. 8 - Treat yourself like you would treat a young, desperate and hurt child. Or someone you really love who has anything that makes you want to protect them and make sure they feel loved if you wouldn't have the patience to be kind to a child who needs you. A pet who really needs you is obviously totally ok too.

When we lacked a lot of the love we are talking about here, being compassionate gets really really hard. That's because compassion starts with ourselves, and we weren't given that much, so we struggle to know what it feels like. It takes practice to learn how to treat ourselves. Most of us don’t know how to do more than numbing or avoiding the pain and discomfort. 9 - Keep showing up for yourself Persevere. Keep going. We have days when everything feels awful and we feel it won't ever get better. It's part of the human experience. Teach yourself that you will love yourself unconditionally even if it never gets better. Prove it to yourself by never giving up on giving yourself self love. When I am having a true hard time, my only focus is to be there for myself. I don't necessarily know when it'll be over, it doesn't always change the way I feel. It's not the point. The point is me, still there. Not only numbing myself or avoiding displeasing feelings, but there on the hard times. Not just being harsh with myself and judging me, but when I do (old habits die hard), learning to repeat to myself things like : "It's ok that you feel that way. I love you anyway. It doesn't mean anything about you, or your future. Millions of people right now feel that same pain, you are not alone. You just need some down time and space and room. Whatever happens, you'll find ways to make it work. You are going to be okay."

10 - Do your best, and celebrate the smallest step.

Do your best doesn't mean give your best every second of the day. It means accepting that wallowing takes a lot of energy and therefore we have less energy for other things. Other things can wait. If something cannot, make sure you do a tiny amount of it regularly. 10mn (1% of your waken time) at the time eg.

Show yourself that doing things doesn't have to be excruciating. That you can do a bit, and then stop yourself and continue later. Make sure you feel safe when you are in your own custody. That may sound dumb phrased like that, but many people think they're not trustworthy when it comes to take care of themselves. How can we expect to take good care of ourselves if we keep thinking we can't do it?

Go on the @todayifeltproud Tumblr and check out what baby steps means. Sometimes courage is moving mountains, sometimes it's just getting out of bed or promise yourself you'll do better the next day late at night. Celebrate anything that felt hard to do. Even if it might seem stupid or insignificant to others. Because if it was hard for you, and you did it anyway, well, you needed courage. Not a lot of people choose courageous paths. Doing hard stuff is hard. And anything can be hard depending on the state we are in. Drink a glass of water. Stand up every hour. Stretch. Walk inside, just a few steps. Outside your house if you can. Augment your radius every day. Spend 5mn at least everyday doing things you love. And things that help you being mindful.

IT IS ABOUT THE TINY THINGS EVERYDAY.

Give yourself more love everyday, one moment at the time and trust yourself : you are stronger than you think. So far, you always survived. Even the hardest things. You will find a way back to yourself. Credit photo Christine Donaldson - Unsplash

#recovery #wallow #sad #depressed #anxious #retreat #therapy #therapist #emotional badassery #self care #self love #self compassion #the happy mess project

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surveys-at-your-service · 7 years

Text

Survey #63

“now it’s you-know-who, i got the you-know-what, stick it you-know-where, you know why, you don’t care.”

tell me about the last thing that made you laugh until it hurt. chelsea showed me a stupid video that had me crying on new year's. i normally wouldn't have laughed so hard, but i was almost drunk. is there a trampoline in your backyard? no. we got rid of ours years ago. what about kids on leashes? what do you think about that? i don't feel much about it, because i've never raised a child. it's funny to see, no doubt, but idk if it's right or wrong. kids can be dangerously ignorant. for whatever reason, your significant other can NEVER have sex again. do you stay with them? duh. i can live without it. how would you react to losing a close friend? same shit, different day. have you ever drunk/eaten a substance in the science lab? no, because i didn't want to die back when i was in school. have you ever led the prayer at dinnertime? if not, do you want to? i have. do you like those sudoku puzzles?   i sure do. have you ever taken a course in chemistry?   no, i took physical science, which had chemistry mixed into it. do you like to draw? not nearly as much as i used to... so, tell me about your day. was it good?   same old day. woke up, ate breakfast and such, watched my daily gmm. started taking surveys while i listened to music and let's plays in the background. seriously, it's the same every other day. do you have your own web site?   well i mean i created the rp forum my friends and i moved to, but it's not "mine." do you frequently add people to your friend’s list that you don’t know? no, never. how do you feel about girls that post half naked pictures on facebook? cover it up, hunny. not everyone needs to know you like that. sorry to be all "conservative," but i hate that shit. what’s your favorite ice cream flavor? vanilla, but with chocolate icing. have you ever considered changing your sexuality? no, i have not. i don't believe you can just "change" your sexuality like that. ever thought about changing your gender? here come the liberals. i don't believe it's possible to change your gender. what is the worst physical pain you have ever felt? getting my former cyst emptied at the er. fuck that. who is the most inappropriate person you know? mmmm... chelsea, probably. has someone ever told you they loved you and you didn’t say it back? yeah. are you satisfied with what you currently have in life? no. like look... i am happy i have a house. i have both parents. we have food. but what i have, both good and bad, is not enough for me to see a happy life possible. how long has it been since you kissed someone? over a year ago. your best friend has sex with your ex. what happens? i'm killing her. your ex wants you back, but you are in a relationship. what do you do? ... fucking kill me. i'd leave my current boyfriend to be with him. what did you do last night? wallowed in self-pity, convinced myself to not kill myself. if someone was to ask you if you were okay right now, are you? no. mom's taking my letter to jason to the mail tomorrow. i feel it in my gut that it's not going to change his feelings for me. do you think you would lose some friends if you gained 100 pounds? honestly, no. i feel that the friends i have now are more serious than that. when was the last time someone gave you a massage? i'm sure it hasn't been since jason and i dated and he'd give me one. when was the last time you were in an amazingly awesome mood? HA. is there something you need to get off your chest at the moment? there's a novel's worth. has the last person you kissed met your father? he has. i don't know how he feels about my dad since the divorce, though. he'd always have to hear me rant and cry about him. have you ever woke up crying from a bad dream? i have. have you ever had to block anyone online? plenty of times. have you ever made a boy cry? i sadly have. do you find guys with facial piercings attractive? generally. who was the last person to insult you to your face? colleen, kinda. what scares you more: snakes or spiders? spiders, i'm not scared of snakes. do you wear thongs? i never have. have you ever done yoga? i used to be amazing at it. many summers ago, i used wiifit to lose about 40 pounds. i mainly did yoga. i was super flexible. would you consider yourself a flirt? not in the slightest. do you have any friends who have an STD? i have a family member who does. are you thinner than your best friend? i am not. have you ever been prescribed narcotics? yeah, xanax and another for anxiety that i forgot... how many rings do you wear daily? just one. i want to repair the one jason gave me so i can wear that one again, too... i think i'll do that tonight or tomorrow. do you get car sick or motion sick easily? does it ever stop you doing things? i don't. did you ever dream of living in a house with a white picket fence? not really, no. after you go swimming, do you sit around in your wet bathing suit with a towel or do you immediately change? i usually sit around for a while. what was the last activity you did that made you sweat? i'm pretty sure i sweat very slightly just when i got the craft box out of the closet. because of my medication, literally everything makes me sweat... it's so embarrassing. when was the last time you used lotion? last time i shaved my legs. currently listening to? "tourniquet" by marilyn manson. just another song that makes me think of how i feel about jason in some ways. give us a lyric from this song. "take your hatred out on me, make your victim my head." besides your mouth, where is your favorite spot to get kissed? breasts or neck. ever jacked a dude off? were you even romantically involved with him? hey, when you "can't" have sex, you find the loopholes, sister. and yes, we were dating at the time. would you rather eat your pizza cold or hot? i'd rather it be hot, but cold's fine. have you ever had fake nails? i have not. is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? no. it feels demeaning, honestly. does the person you like, like you back? no, he does not. do you believe ex’s can be friends? if you were deeply romantically involved? fuck no. do you like to text or call more? texting. calling is awkward imo and it's hard to understand the person, at least to me. when was the last time you really pushed yourself to your physical or emotional limits? what were you doing and how did it turn out? emotionally, right fucking now. colleen's decided to lecture me again, and i am a hair's width from just... i don't know. basically, it's taking stupendous amounts of emotional willpower to not go kill myself right now. i have HAD IT with her. i won't bore my survey tumblr readers with the full story. physically, probably the last time i went to the gym, i assume. what's your favorite saying or quote? why does it mean something special to you? how did you come across it? i answered this in a recent-ish survey. my favorite (series of) quote(s) takes place in the recent movie "Suicide Squad." a police asks harley quinn, "harleen, what did he tell you?" harley's cackling/crying and responds, "he said he loved me." i love the quote so much because i feel it. bit of villain backstory, harley quinn was driven mad by her boyfriend/former patient, and i'd consider myself to have been through the same (via his absence, anyway, but you get it). i started as jason's mentor, and i guarantee he'd tell you the same. then, without him intending it, i've become his fucking slave, shadow, and #1 fan all at once. i'd do it all for him. all because he said he was in love with me. powerful fucking words. don't abuse them, people. do you enjoy getting dressed up for a night out? what are your favorite places for a "night on the town"? i like getting dressed up for something that's bigger than usual, but i don't really have "nights out on the town." i don't do anything even remotely extravagant. what is your favorite classic disney film and why? does "the lion king" count? if so, that one. i can't exactly say why it's my favorite besides simba coming back from a tragedy as the king of the world pretty much, but i love that movie dearly. are you a good liar? under what circumstances do you choose to lie (just little white lies, or bigger ones)? have you ever regretted your choice to be less than truthful? honestly, when i do lie, i'm rarely caught. and i'll lie mainly to avoid hurting people, but i confess to sometimes doing it to just avoid confrontation. can you remember the first swear word you ever learned? no, but i remember the first one i said aloud: shit. i had no idea it was a bad word. got a massive lecture in the car. how old were you when you first started to wear make-up? do you prefer others with or without make-up? late middle school, i think. and i personally find make-uped faces more aesthetically pleasing, it's why there's such a problem in this world with women feeling ugly without it, but you're still absolutely beautiful without it, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. how long do you need to get to know someone, before you’d think about having a relationship with them? i don't measure that by time, i measure that by how well i'm getting to know them. is global warming actually happening? duh. does gpa determine a person's intelligence? no, fuck this question. do you refuse to talk about your sexuality? no. it's not a big deal to anyone. do you have a debit card? i do not. would you have an abortion if you would otherwise die in childbirth? no, because i'm not fucking selfish. do you think sleeping is a waste of time? yet you LOVE your dreams, even when they're kinda bad? i mean, it technically is a waste of time, but we need it regardless. what would you do if your boyfriend got snake bite piercings? that's totally up to him, i'd love him regardless. now whether or not i'd find it physically appealing just depends on the person. do you think it's at all possible you may change your religion in your life? i'm not going to bullshit. maybe. DO I THINK I WILL, NO, but do i rule out the possibility, no. after how pissed i've been at god lately, i wouldn't be entirely surprised if, in the worst case scenario, i became satanic. god please don't let me. if you were told that you were going to spend the rest of your life with the last person you kissed, would that make you happy? i would... oh my god. i would physically break down from joy. i would sob. i would bow and praise god beyond all explanation. i would fucking lose it. who was your first boy/girlfriend and do you still talk to them? if you want to count him as "the first person who had the 'boyfriend' title," aaron. and no, we don't. we're friends on facebook though. have you ever watched the big bang theory, or how about glee? i've watched and love tbbt, but i've never watched glee. are you considered a “clingy girlfriend?” i probably would be. do you have a large dog? she's pretty big, yeah. we have a boxer. would you ever date someone who watched cartoons? ... the fuck is this question?? no shit i would!! what was your last dream about? all i remember is it was the apocalypse and i was back with jason. he was there with me. we somehow survived, and demons took over the world after the humans were eliminated. everyone was trying to be heroes and such by killing them. have you ever seen a crocodile in real life? i know i've seen alligators, don't know about crocs. if you were drunk and couldn’t walk, would the person you have feelings for, take care of you? i kinda feel like he would if he was already there, anyway. he wouldn't like drive somewhere to come watch me, but if he was already there, i'd at least hope he'd be kinda protective... has anyone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear? not only that i didn't want to hear, but didn't need to hear, too. tell me again my mental illness is invalid, swear to fuck. why were you last scared? i'm scared of myself now. do you know a secret about your last ex that would embarrass them? something potentially might, but i doubt it. i'd never share the information though regardless. were you a hyper or mellow kid? i was quite hyper. i miss that. what’s your favorite movie? burton's "alice in wonderland" do you hate it when everyone you know is sleeping in, so you are bored? ha ha, sometimes. how much of your time to do you spend being bored? what could cure that boredom? honestly... almost 24/7. i've talked about this before: jason left and took my hobbies with him. because they feel "bad." i take no pleasure in what i used to enjoy, like games, drawing, reading... i honestly think the only thing that'll heal that is spending time with jason himself. what are your least favorite kind of people? people that think mental illness isn't fucking valid is what i feel most hatred towards at the moment. describe an orgasm. (just do it, nobody will judge you here.) hahahaha omg the person before me answered "god will judge me," i love that. anyway, i wouldn't know. are you a picky eater? beyond so. are you hopelessly addicted to the computer? i mean i guess you could say that, as i'm always on... would you ever take nakey pictures of yourself? maybe for my husband??? what cause (feminism, gay rights, abortion, etc) are you most passionate about? abortion does your best friend have any piercings? ears, and... i think nose. omg i feel horrible, i'm not sure. what's better: an apology to your face or a nice apology letter? an apology to your face. has anyone ever kissed you when you REALLY weren't expecting it? was it a good random kiss, or a bad random kiss? i don't think so, but it's possible... what is the last thing you got a blister from? i got one from my flip-flop rubbing against the side of my toe. do you remember the song that used to be really popular, 'she will be loved'? I DON'T MIIIND SPENDIN' EV-ER-EE-DAAAAAY, OUT ON YOUR CORNER IN THE POURIN' RAAAAIIIIN do you have any friends who have never seen you makeup-free? i don't. what is the worst thing that could happen to you? the worst thing that could happen to me already happened. do you think age matters in friendship? in friendships, absolutely not. are you more likely to eat when you’re bored or depressed? i wouldn't be overweight otherwise. describe the nearest photograph to you? it's jason and i at our first prom. we're peeking at each other from around the tree. do you know anyone who has overdosed? i know of people, but i know none directly. well wait... my half-sister overdosed, but didn't die as she called the cops in time. the person you have feelings for says he/she wants to have sex, you say? ... i would. kfc or popeye’s? i don't like fried chicken. what was the name of the last pet of yours that died? link, my former rat. have you ever had to evacuate from a natural disaster? thank god, no. do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? quite a few, actually. my mom survived kidney cancer, my grandma lived through thyroid cancer i believe it was, and i think an aunt of mine had breast cancer. when was the last time you went way out of your comfort zone? what happened as a result? uhhh i guess when i told my former boss i had to quit, and what happened is obvious. is working with animals something you enjoy? how about working with people? what would be your ideal work environment? well, it's become clear i can't work with people. i've had two jobs in retail, and each time, i vomited from the anxiety and when i wasn't vomiting, i was living in constant panic mode. i haven't had a job with animals yet, but that's what i'm looking for. the ideal job would just be where i work on my own... do you have any favorite stuffed toys? oh yeah. i have a stuffed meerkat named rebel from jason, and my stuffed moose named brownie is very dear to me too. would you ever get any private parts pierced? heeeell no. do you agree with medication to treat mental illnesses or do you believe that they are a ‘stage’ that a person will grow out of? mental. illnesses. need. to be. MEDICATED. just like a person with asthma needs an inhaler, a mentally ill person needs medication, too!! do you ever get really paranoid about how loud you’re breathing? i do occasionally, yes. have you ever met a person who was convinced they had supernatural powers? i "met" a woman who thought she was jesus christ, the mother mary, and god all in one person while in the mental hospital... she scared THE FUCK out of me. what're you thinking of RIGHT THIS MINUTE? i actually just started thinking of jason's sick grandma outta nowhere a few seconds ago... and now i feel sad. she was definitely dying while we were dating, so i guess she's gone now... she was a sweet lady, despite not saying much. she seemed to like me enough. what is your opinion on sex without emotional commitment? okay, i know casual sex is gaining popularity, but me? dude, FUCK that. sex is supposed to be a very emotional and connecting experience. it's not "just for fun" and shouldn't occur everytime you feel horny with someone or whatever. what are you doing right now? doing this survey, possibly talking to jax if she's still online, and listening to "slo-mo-tion" by marilyn manson. what books, if any, have made you cry? that i can remember, "the notebook," "a walk to remember," "old yeller," and i think i teared up in "the giver." there was also this one book about an elderly couple we read in high school, but i cannot remember the name... i remember tearing up. are you picky about spelling and grammar? very much so. song you REALLY wanna fuck to? okay, if it's with jason, i do plan on deliberately trying to woo him into having sex to "heart-shaped glasses" by marilyn manson because uh... this is terrible... but it reminds me of his ex because she always wore heart-shaped glasses and i fucking hate her for MANY reasons and idk it'd just kinda feel like a huge "fuck you" to her lmao. yes i am a child somewhere in my heart. just to add to it, when i get sunglasses, yeah... i found heart-shaped glasses on rebel's market and i want them. if you could have sex with anyone, who would it be? it'd still be jason. sorry, link neal. do your hands shake a lot? well, i have an essential tremor that's only gotten worse over the years, so. the mere thought of anyone ever made you... you know... "moist"... downstairs? omfg do you really have to say that word this question bothers me lmao. but yeah. i like dirty questions, let's continue! do you masturbate? if not, why? also if not... what's the most tempted you've ever felt? you know you have at least once! i do not masturbate because i personally find it disgustingly lustful and gross, no matter how clean you may be. i've been tempted before once, sure. i had a really hard time one night kinda recently when i was thinking rather sexually of jason, but i did nothing about it. do you get crazy sex hair? i wouldn't know, but i've had some pretty wild hair from doing sexual things. my hair was super long when we were together. is everything going to be okay? i am the wroooong person to ask. have you ever had a pet rat? four so far, yeah. do you like free samples? who doesn't?! have you ever made yourself look like a fool for love? i'm pretty sure i always do nowadays. to be so obsessed with your ex-boyfriend... it's silly. who was the last person you slow danced with? jason... long time ago... has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? i'm pretty sure no. at concerts, are you one of those people that push and shove their way to the front, or are you one of the those people that gets there hours before in order to ensure that you get a front-row position; or do you just suck it up and stand wherever you can? i've only been to one, at which i sucked it up and stood wherever i could. did you ever like jewel? like one song anyway, but she has an absolutely heavenly voice. when watching scary movies/hearing scary stories/etc, what subject scares you the most? when women are raped by demons. just. let's not. do you think marilyn manson looks good? ha ha how funny, i'm actually listening to him right now!! but anyway, VERY rarely, honestly. in some pictures/videos he looks pretty appealing.

#survey #quiz #questions #asks #answered

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