#peanut butter bagel and coffee

[bl0ated-w0rld]

🥖ANA Grocery List🥬

(for those who don't know where to start or just hate making lists)

Fridge

PH Balanced Water

Unsweetened Soy Milk (has better protein than almond/oat)

Vegetable Broth

Sugar Free Jello

Brown Eggs (liquid egg whites work too)

Low Fat Cream Cheese

Babybel or White String/Shredded Cheese

Provolone or Swiss Cheese Slices

Cucumbers (i prefer mini ones!)

Baby Carrots/Shredded Carrots

Plain Hummus

Sugar Free Natural Fruit Preserves (blackberry is my go to)

Sugar Free Powerades/Gatorades (electrolytes!)

Diet Coke (i don't drink it but i know y'all do)

Sugar Free Monster/Red Bull (also don't drink these but w/e)

Diet Cranberry Juice (for the girlies)

Zero Calorie Dressings

Low Sodium Soy Sauce

Plain Greek Yogurt (i say this but i always cave and get vanilla cuz plain is so nasty to me)

Apples (i buy them pre sliced)

Spinach/Kale/Lettuce (i buy this as a prepackaged blend of all 3)

Kombucha

V8 Vegetable Juice

Berries (raspberries, blueberries, blackberries)

Melon Slices (or cantaloupe)

Sugar Free Squeezable Applesauce

Avocados (i buy them already mashed)

Bananas (i refrigerate them idk)

Whole Grain/Wheat Bread (dave's killer bread is my go to and yes i refrigerate bread too lol)

Keto/Low Carb Spinach or Tomato Wraps

Cherry Tomatoes

Tofu Cubes

Lean Deli Turkey

Low Sodium Tuna Packets

Sun Dried Tomatoes

Baby Pickles

Grapes

Mandarin Oranges/Cuties

Diet Green Tea

Lemons

Freezer

Grilled Chicken Strips

Spring Rolls

Frozen Fruit Blends

Frozen Broccoli

Veggie Burgers

Salmon/Tilapia

Pedialyte Popsicles

Veggie Spirals

Cauliflower Rice

Diet Frozen Yogurt

Ice

Pantry

Plain Rice Cakes

Canned Veggie Soup (i get chicken and rice soup lowkey)

Pasta Sauce (i like newman's own)

Sweet Potatoes

Boxed Vegetable Noodles

Konjac Noodles

Plain Popcorn (i buy them in bulk kernels and keep them in a mason jar)

Protein Bars (clif bars are my fav)

Fiber Bars (for the girlies who haven't shit all week)

Unsalted Whole Almonds

Pistachios

Plain Rolled Oats

Sugar Free Dark Chocolate (i get the mini hersheys ones so i don't overeat)

Plain Black Coffee

Green Tea Packets

Sugar Free Granola

Cereal (i like great grains, kashi, etc)

Cinnamon (cinnamon gum too)

Chili Powder (or any spicy seasoning)

Hot Sauce

Natural Peanut Butter (a spoonful of this is a lifesaver)

Nutella

Everything Bagel Seasoning (i throw it on everything)

Wheat Thins or Wheat Crackers

Seaweeed Chips

Raw Honey

Quinoa

Olive Oil (or any vegetable oil)

Almond Flour

Stevia (or turbinado sugar)

Electrolyte Packets

(u can add more stuff this is just all i could think of)

now go forth and shop❣️

#not pr0 just for myself #pr0 ana diary #4n0r3x14 #ana trigger #ana rules #pro m1a #4na diary #only pr0 for tags #pr0 3d #tw ana thoughts #4na buddy #pr0 ana only for myself #pr0ana diet #not pr0 mia #pr0 @na #pr0 a4a #th1n$po #pr04ana #ed diet #not pr0 4na #ana relatable #ana meal #mealspø #mealsp0 #mealspo #m3ansp0 #th1nsp1r4t10n #th1gh gap #i wish i was thinner #th17

[anotherspnfanfic]

Surprise Visits

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x reader

Word count: 2400

Warnings: seizure, epileptic reader, possible inaccuracies

Summary: Eddie shows up unexpectedly. Reader is glad he did for more than one reason.

A/N: This is only my second time writing for Eddie and last time it was a co-write. I did a whole bunch of research and had some proof reading from the lovely @thatonewriter15 and @muchamusedaboutnothing. Hopefully this is a somewhat accurate representation... 🤞🏻

Trudging up the stairs towards her apartment, she cursed the elevators for being broken. All she wanted to do was collapse into her bed and sleep for two days. Unfortunately, that was impossible since it was only Wednesday and she had an important meeting first thing in the morning.

Passing the third floor, she considered if she was going to eat before she went to bed. She was starving, but cooking seemed like too much effort and time. Then she considered having something delivered but guessed that would take even longer than cooking. She decided to just eat a spoonful of peanut butter so that she wasn’t battling hunger while trying to fall asleep.

Finally reaching the fifth floor, she exited the stairwell and took the four steps to her door. It was a small victory for climbing the stairs— at least she didn’t have further to go once she got to her floor.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Immediately, she dumped her purse, jacket, and laptop case on the floor beside the door before pulling her shoes off one at a time to drop in the pile.

Rounding the corner into the living room, she gasped. Her favorite scented candle was lit on the coffee table next to several containers of Chinese take-out. Eddie stood from the couch as she approached.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she let herself fall into his embrace.

He pecked a kiss to her temple as he pulled back to look at her. “You sounded a little overwhelmed when you called earlier. So I had Buck take Christopher for the night, and I brought you dinner.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she was overcome with emotions. “I love you. You are the best. I was about to eat some peanut butter because I’m too exhausted to cook or wait for delivery.”

“And let me guess, you’ve barely eaten anything all day?” he chastised.

She shrugged. “I had a bagel for breakfast.”

He pulled her over to sit on the couch. “I’m glad I came then.”

“I’m really glad you did.” She grabbed a fortune cookie while he started to open the other containers. “Are you staying all night?”

He nodded. “I’m all yours. Buck is taking Christopher to the zoo tomorrow.” He dumped some rice on the plates he’d gotten out of the kitchen. “Chicken, beef, or shrimp?”

“Some of each, please.” She set the fortune cookie back down as she stood. ”I’m gonna go change out of these work clothes. I’ll be right back.”

Before Eddie could even finish dishing up the food, she returned in sweats and a shirt she’d stolen from him.

As she sat back down, she picked up and opened the fortune cookie. She pulled out the piece of paper. “‘Life will soon become interesting,’” she read. “I think it’s already plenty interesting.”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, where’s the one that says we get a vacation soon?”

He finished adding everything to their plates as she flipped on the television and started an episode of How I Met Your Mother.

They ate in a comfortable silence and had finished before the twenty-minute episode had ended. He set the mostly-empty plates on the table, and she shifted to curl in against his side while he wrapped his arm snugly around her shoulder.

As the credits rolled, he asked, “Bed or another episode?”

She yawned. “One more. I’m probably going to fall asleep, but I’m comfy.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead as the TV rolled over into a new episode on its own. “As you wish, mi amor.”

She had just started to doze off when, suddenly, she was overcome with a familiar, distinct, full-body tingling sensation along with intense nausea. She quickly shifted to leaning forward on the edge of her seat. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

Eddie reached out and placed a tentative hand between her shoulder blades. “What’s wrong?”

She stood and moved over to the empty dining room, which she kept devoid of a table and other furniture precisely for this reason. “Seizure,” she stated as calmly as she could before lying down in the middle of the floor.

“Oh, uh, okay.” Eddie was surprised, but quickly stood. He grabbed a blanket from the recliner and moved to sit beside her. He knew about her epilepsy and the medications she took for it. However, in the eighteen months they’d been dating, she’d never had a seizure. He lifted her head to slide the folded blanket underneath.

She let out a quiet whimper before her eyelids fluttered closed.

“Okay. You’re okay. I got you.” He pulled out his phone, opened the timer, and set it on the floor. He continued to whisper soft reassurances to her and started the timer as soon as she started to seize.

Despite his training and having treated patients with seizures at work, he couldn’t help but notice the way his hands shook as he carefully kept her rolled on her side. “You’re okay,” he repeated, more to reassure himself than anything. He continued to repeat it several more times as he waited for her to stop.

He felt his anxiety spike again as he watched the timer hit four minutes. He thought about what time it was, trying to figure out which shift was manning the 118 currently. He knew if she hit five minutes, he would have to call 9-1-1. As the timer rolled past four and a half minutes, her movements finally began to slow. He breathed a sigh of relief and pushed some hair out of her face as she stilled. Next, he used the corner of the blanket to wipe the saliva that had dribbled out.

For his own peace of mind, he checked her pulse, satisfied that it was steady and only slightly tachy. Next, he counted her breaths, ensuring her breathing was also back to normal. Then he sat there, running his fingers gently through her hair, and waited for her to wake.

Finally, after several minutes of anxiously waiting, she groaned.

“Hey, sweetheart. You with me?”

Slowly, she cracked her eyes open and looked around for several moments before finally landing on his face. She was clearly confused and still disoriented.

“You’re okay. You just had a seizure,” he explained. “Do you remember feeling it coming on?”

She thought for a minute before finally nodding. Groaning again, she rolled onto her back and threw an arm over her face. “Trash,” she slurred.

Eddie shifted away to grab the trash can sitting in the corner and move it beside her. “Do you want to sit up?”

“Not yet.” She lied there, trying to regain her bearings.

He took her hand in his and ran his thumb softly over her knuckles. “Anything I can do?”

“Mmmm, make the jackhammer in my head stop? And the nausea, too.” She rolled back onto her side before starting to push herself into a sitting position and pulling the trash can between her knees. “This blows.”

Leaning forward, he placed a chaste kiss on her temple. “I know. I’m sorry. Do you want something for the headache?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to puke it right back up.”

She didn’t know how long she sat there, taking slow, deep breaths in an attempt to clear the nausea. All the while, Eddie rubbed soothing circles across her back. The soreness was already starting to settle in all her muscles. Eventually, she pushed away the trash can and leaned into him.

“Ya know, this isn’t the kind of interesting I was hoping for. Stupid fortune cookie,” she grumbled.

“Me either. You think you’re ready to move?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her gently.

“Yeah.” She nodded. He stood, and she reached a hand out for him. “Help me up?”

Instead of pulling her up, he bent down and slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back and easily lifted her. He walked slowly towards her bedroom, cautious of making the nausea worse, then set her gently on the bed. “What do you need?”

“Uh, I will take that Tylenol now. Plus, water and some Advil for in the morning, and the trash can by the bed,” she listed, then, with a pout, added, “Please?”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

She laid back into her pillows as she waited for him to return. Next thing she knew, she was peeling her eyes open to find Eddie beside her, rubbing a hand across her head.

“Here, take these and then you can go to sleep.” He handed her the pills and then opened a bottle of water before offering that as well.

Once she’d swallowed them, she took a few deep breaths to clear the flare of nausea. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He pressed another kiss to her hairline.

“As much as seizures suck, it’s really nice having you here to help. I’ve just slept on the floor in there so many times because I just didn’t have the energy to move.”

“I’m glad I was here. I hate that you’ve had to go through that alone.”

“I hate that I have to go through it at all.” She sighed. “And I just broke my longest streak. At least I didn’t try to take a chunk out of my tongue.”

“Ouch.”

She nodded. “Yeah, one time, I had to get stitches from biting it so bad.”

He cringed. “That sounds awful.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, eyes fluttering closed. “Work is really going to suck tomorrow.”

“No, it won’t.” Eddie argued. ”You’re taking the rest of the week off.”

“I can’t!’ she declared, opening her eyes and leaning forward. “I have too many things to get done and a meeting first thing that we’ve been working toward for three weeks.”

“You just had a seizure,” he pointed out the obvious. “For the first time in, what, two years? And a long one at that. You were about twenty seconds away from a trip to the hospital. You don’t think your stress levels had something to do with this?” His tone was one of frustration, but she could tell he was just worried.

She sighed, knowing he was right. “Maybe.”

Eddie climbed into the other side of the bed and settled nearly in the middle. “So take the long weekend. Just relax and get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

Shifting to curl into his side, she giggled. “You’re not a doctor.”

He huffed. “Medic’s orders. Is that better? Or I can call a doctor.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Rolling impossibly closer to her, he pressed one more kiss to her forehead. “Good night, mi amor.”

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was her alarm clock. She was surprised to find it was nearly ten already. Slowly, she shifted onto her back and turned her head to look at the other side of the bed. She found Eddie sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Good morning,” he greeted as he noticed she was awake. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore. Which is pretty much what I expected.” She took Eddie’s hand in hers. “And maybe a little grateful that I got to sleep in and I don’t have to get up and go to work.”

He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. “You needed it.”

“Oh, shit!” she panicked. “I didn’t call. I missed the meeting. I’m gonna get fired!”

Eddie shushed her. “I called. Just breathe. It’s okay. I called earlier and talked to your boss. He knows you’ll be out today and tomorrow and told me to tell you to take Monday also, if you need to.”

She took a deep breath and let herself relax. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course. How about some breakfast?”

“Mmm. Yes, please.”

Eddie let go of her hand and got up off the bed. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared out of the room, and she could hear him moving around her kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a plate and set it on the bed in front of her.

She looked up at him, surprised. “Since when do you make omelettes?”

“Uhh, well, never?” He laughed. “I may have called in reinforcements. Bobby dropped it off earlier. I just reheated it according to his very direct instructions.”

“Eddie! I could have just had some cereal or something. You didn’t need to make him drive over here so early on his day off.” She reached over to grab her phone off the nightstand.

“I figured you could use real food. I was going to order delivery, but Bobby offered.”

“Why would he have offered?” She opened Bobby’s contact to send him a thank you text. “Oh. You told him about last night.”

“I couldn’t fall asleep. Then they were all texting in the group thread. So when they asked why I was still up, I told them. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have without asking you first.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not like my epilepsy is a secret. They’re your—our— friends. I’m sure I would have told them anyway.”

He nodded. “Okay. Eat and then you can go back to sleep for a bit. If you want.”

She cut a piece off the omelette and ate it. As she chewed, she spoke, “Bobby says we’re invited over there for dinner if I’m feeling up to it. I told him we would let them know a little later today.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

She took another bite of her food. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Shaking his head, he explained, “I ate earlier.”

“Oh, right.” She glanced at the clock. “I forgot it was so late already.”

“Anything else I can get for you?”

She contemplated for a moment. “Umm, maybe a glass of apple juice?”

He disappeared from the room with a simple nod.

Soon after he returned, she finished her omelette and he took the plate into the kitchen.

“Did you want to go back to sleep?” he asked.

“How about a shower and then a movie on the couch?” she countered, throwing off the blankets she was still tucked under. As she stood, dizziness flared, causing her to sway slightly before sitting back down.

Eddie was in front of her instantly, steadying her. “How about a bath instead?”

“Sounds perfect.”

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz fanfic #911 fanfic #911 oneshot #hurt/comfort #epileptic reader #seizures

[emo-batboy]

Depression meals Battinson has made himself at least once while unsupervised to the shock and horror of Alfred

(Alfred has to sleep at some point. that’s when Bruce decides to wreak havoc and make these barely edible monstrosities)

(Btw he’s vegetarian, fucking fight me)

Pepper jack cheese between two seaweed sheets

Uncooked ramen dipped in the seasoning packet

Ready rice with cold tofu

Spoonfuls of peanut butter

Instant grits with one slice of American cheese

Pop tart dipped in hot chocolate

Spaghetti noodles with no other ingredient than a mountain parmesan, didn’t even put salt in the water

“Technically bread” (water and flour, microwaved…he was having a really bad day)

Bread, cheese, ketchup, microwave = pizza

Cream cheese and jelly sandwich

Vegan hot dog microwaved without a plate. He picked it up from the microwave with a piece of white bread and ate it just like that. No dirty dishes

kraft mac and cheese with one single raw asparagus

Various little kiddie-themed smoothie shots

Dry cereal

Cheddar cheese wrapped in a flour tortilla

Vegan dinosaur nuggets (microwaved, tho he tried to cook it in his hot coffee once, it didn’t work)

Frozen snap peas straight from the bag, unthawed

Tomato soup with cheez-its sprinkled on top

Tried to make a meal completely out of vitamin supplements once, based entirely on the exact amount of nutrients you need in a day

A family-sized bag of generic brand corn chips

Hard boiled eggs (they were supposed to be soft-boiled) and paprika

Blueberry bagel, toasted, no butter

Cold chicken noodle soup in one of those paper cartons from the corner store (it gave him food poisoning)

Microwave grilled cheese

Cucumber rolls (cucumber slices he rolled in microwave rice)

Leftover cake washed down with a protein shake

A hunk of mozzarella cheese, microwaved

Frozen Garlic bread (it’s actually good like that, he swears)

Four 5-hour energy shots to make a 20-hour energy (his heart rate didn’t go back to normal for two days)

Fruit snacks squished between two slices of wheat bread

Tried to dry scoop protein powder once, worked about as well as the cinnamon challenge

Pistachios with the shells (it was an accident. He did not notice)

Refried refried beans (for protein)

Handfuls of mushy, room temperature blueberries

Tofu block cut up with a spam slicer and dipped in mustard

#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #the batman #batman 2022 #battinson needs a hug #alfred pennyworth #poor bruce wayne #wrap him in a blanket #gotham #i took some of these straight from reddit #inculuding the “technically bread” #dc universe #dc

[thesunhatesme]

What the ghouls eat for breakfast - HC

Mountain: a bagel with lettuce, tomato and cheese with a cup of tea (earl grey)

Dew: black coffee (it has to be as bitter as his morning mood)

Rain: he’s not a breakfast person and is not awake for it but he’ll grab an apple or just eat lunch

Swiss: peanut butter jelly sandwich and a very sugary coffee

Aether: toast with marmite with a glass of apple juice

Phantom: fruit loops with milk and a glass of tropical juice

Cirrus: granola with yogurt and an espresso

Sunshine: fruit loops and a glass of chocolate milk

Cumulus: cream cheese and strawberry jam bagel with a cup of some kind of fruit tea

Aurora: fruit salad with a glass of strawberry milk

Copia: toast with butter and cheese with way to many cups of coffee

#phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #aurora ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #the band ghost #hc

[paldean-sandwich-rater]

A sandwich.

It contains ice cream, whipped cream, sponge cake, meat balls, broccoli, pineapple, strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, rice, noodles, mac and cheese, bacon, beef jerky, dried fish, seaweed, one of every Pokemon berry, jam, olive oil, lotus, dragon fruit, ravioli, ramen, tempura, teriyaki chicken, macaroons, escargots, mint, pepper, salt, sugar, croquettes, pickles, apples, avocados, sausages, bell peppers, grapes, pizza, a donut, cheese, more cheese, even more cheese, mushrooms, mustard, olives, a fried egg, a scrambled egg, blueberries, a poached egg, chawanmushi, a red bean bun, mochi, bbq sauce, chicken nuggets, french fries, takoyaki, pancakes, mackerel, salmon, coffee beans, spinach, a tiny bit of corn cream soup, ramensanga, fettucine alfredo, a plain bagel, pretzels, chocolate chip cookies, sweet potato, yam, potato, scallions, scallops, squid, crab stick, fish balls, fish cakes, oyster sauce, silken tofu, barley, cereal, paprika, oysters, red snapper, sea bass, plums, bean sprouts, garlic, string cheese, camembert, swiss cheese, mozzarella, parmesan cheese, yogurt, brinjal, a macdonald’s happy meal (without the toy and the packaging of course), truffles, caviar, tapioca balls, fried chicken, century eggs, cake sprinkles, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white chocolate, milk tea (just a tinge), coffee (also a tinge), pudding, pumpkin, honey, mutton, mashed potatoes, bananas, icelandic fermented shark that they bury in the ground for months, raisins, dried mangoes, a drop of water, jelly, nata de coco, prunes, roasted pork, rosemary, bee pollen, peas, deer meat, rabbit meat, fish maw, ham, turkey, m&ms, chub, fufu, watermelon, winter melon, rock melon, coffee jelly, cacao, carrots, blueberries, black tea, dumplings, carrot cake, beetroot, purple cabbage, corn, celery, edamame, red beans, black beans, green beans, kidney beans, cashews, peanuts, pecans, sunflower seeds, walnuts, chickpeas, almonds, daikon, MSG, tamales, anchovies, tabbouleh, lions mane mushroom, chicken of the woods, kelp, octopus, durian, kimchi, crème fraîche, popcorn, cotton candy, everything bagel seasoning, capers, pears, marinara sauce, bittercress, butter cream, every single iteration of galarian curry, sushi, sashimi, kale and a very very specific ramen bowl (without the actual bowl) from a very particular shop located in Iwatodai.

And the top and bottom buns are somehow made from 50 different kinds of bread in a checker box pattern.

It comes with a picture.

Ingredients: I am not typing all of that out again. What the fuck.

Smell: You’ve taken an entire food court’s worth of food and made it into a sandwich. This isn’t even possible. Why am I considering this. 3/5

Taste: How do you eat this. 2/5

Texture: You get like 5 different foods every bite. This is not balanced. There is no harmony. This sandwich is the embodiment of disorder and chaos. 1/5

Presentation: The fact that this even looks sandwich adjacent is a fucking miracle. You don’t get full points though. Because I don’t like you. 3/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: He would eat maybe 1/50th of it. So no. 1/5

Final Score: 2/5

Critic’s Notes: Why would you waste this much food. Just host a party. Donate it. Something fucking anything I am begging at this point.

#asks #sandwich rating #anon sandwich sub(mission)

[maciesdiaryyy]

My safe foods <3

Breakfast

sugar free jello (10)

sugar free pudding made with almond milk (15)

cold brew coffee with creamer (35-70)

applesauce (50)

Lunch

fiber one brownie (70)

light and fit yogurt (70)

fiber one granola bar (70)

veggie straws snack bag (100)

laughing cow cheese with nut thins crackers (90)

rice cake with peanut butter (65)

freeze dried apples (40)

Dinner

Tuna with light mayo on carb balance tortilla (130)

Atkins milk chocolate protein shake (160)

quest bars (depends on flavor)

tortilla pizza (200)

kodiak chocolate pancakes (200)

laughing cow cheese on bagel thin (140)

strawberry nutella toast (105)

egg toast (160)

campbells chicken noodle sipping soup (60)

#ed things #not pr0 just for myself #tw ed diet #ana ideas #ana trigger #ana tricks #ed diet #ed progress #safe foods #pro ana tips #pro ana #eating problems #i want to be small #ed thoughts #ed tips #ed tw

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

A Father's Resolve - Prologue

IM SO NORMAL GUYS IM SO NORMAL IM SO NORMAL IM SO NORMAL I SWEAR THIS IS THE THIRD IDEA IVE HAD IN TWO DAYS PLEASE HELP ME

Word Count: ~800

Emmet would later swear that it started out normal. 

He woke up in his bed, his team asleep in the room as well, at exactly 4 am. He would take a shower and get dressed, his white shirt and pants ironed and freshly pressed. He made a light breakfast, consisting of a bagel with peanut butter and some coffee. He'd fed his team their breakfasts and grabbed his coat and hat and had done all the normal morning things. His day bag hadn't felt any different on his shoulder, the walk hadn't been any longer or shorter. The station doors opened the same, that one light still flickered slightly, his office was exactly the same as he'd left it. He'd sat at the lone desk in the room to fill out some paperwork before boarding the same line for the day. 

The battles had gone similar (but never the same) as normal, he'd congratulated and praised and encouraged as normal, he'd reached his destination as normal. He'd eaten his lunch and texted Elesa and checked in with the depot agents as normal. 

The first sign of something not normal was during his break in the control room. He could still remember idly chatting with one of the older agents when he'd heard that sound. The same one he'd heard only once, exactly a decade prior. 

It sounded like someone was trying to cut sheet metal with a pair of fabric scissors. A horrible, loud, ripping noise, reverberating in his ears and chest and lungs. A distinct sound. 

He'd started to run. 

He could barely hear the voices calling for him over that sound. It was getting louder, droning, crackling, ripping, searing, it was unnatural, it was something he was not supposed to hear. 

And then were the screams. He burst out the maintenance door into the main area of the Subway. People were screaming, running, trying to get away from something, that sound. Emmet ran straight towards it, a pokeball raised in his hand. This was not normal. 

He merely caught a glimpse of a hole in the air, a hole leading to somewhere and yet nowhere, a purple and black and yellow and blue and red and green swirling things that spat out matter. And then, with a horrendous sucking noise, it closed itself and disappeared. 

The sound had left a ringing in his ears. He thought about leaving. Not investigating. But he needed to, not just for the Subway, but for himself. He knew he recognized that sound.

He directed the depot agents to handle the panicked passengers as he ran to see what the thing had spat out. 

It sat in the middle of the floor. A huddle of fabric, mumbling to itself. Emmet could not make out what it was. He crept forward, unsure of how to proceed. This was not how he remembered that noise happening last time. In fact, instead of leaving something in its wake, the ripping had taken something from him. Something precious. 

He pushed the thought aside to focus on the matter at hand. 

He kept the pokeball ready as he approached, his shoes squeaking on the floor. He caught a faint voice speaking a foreign tongue. What language was it? The voice was rough from use.

But it was also familiar. 

Emmet summoned all his willpower to speak. "You are halting the activities of the Subway. Please state your intentions." 

The thing - no, the figure - froze completely. Then it stirred, getting to its knees, then its feet. As it rose, Emmet could see the hauntingly familiar coat it wore shredded and sunbleached, the large collar in tatters, the two lines reminiscent of train tracks faded, but still present. The hat it wore, torn and bleached like the coat, most of the stuffing gone. 

And then he turned. And Emmet saw his own face reflected in them. The sharp chin, now covered with facial hair into a trimmed beard. The silver eyes, the sharp cheekbones, even the hooked nose. Their face was tanned, their eyes slightly sunken, but bright and confused. Their silver hair had streaks of white. Wrinkles, small and numerous, riddled their cheeks and eye sockets. 

Emmet's eyes had widened as his hand lowered. 

"Ingo?" 

The man's eyes had also widened. He'd slowly nodded his head, visible confusion still written across his face. Emmet's vision grew blurry as he reached in for a hug-

That was not reciprocated. Ingo had held firm, stiffening. Emmet had stopped dead in his tracks. "Ingo?" 

He had opened his mouth to speak when Emmet had noticed something else. Two small sets of chubby white hands gripping the bleached and torn coat, tugging at his black pants. Two matching sets of silver eyes staring up at him, wide and alarmed, hiding in his coat. 

Ingo had leaned down and plucked them up, scooping one into each arm. They'd buried their small faces into his chest, refusing to look. 

Emmet steeled his resolve suddenly. People were staring. "Let us take this to my office. Somewhere more private." Ingo had said nothing, but had followed his brother, the two children glancing up as he'd begun to move, watching Emmet with large eyes. 

And yet the day, he later swore, had started out normal. 

[Next]

#subway boss ingo #submas #subway bosses #my writing #ingo #pokemon #subway boss emmet

[brucespringsteen]

Hi welcome to a day in the life of Joey brucespringsteen I woke up today and it's my day off which is rare so I woke up around 9:30 told my sister bye since she left for work fought some mental wars so I didn't really get up up til almost 11. then I air fried a bagel and put peanut butter and blueberries on it and watched youtube. then I went to the coffee shop my friend works at and got an americano. then I went to goodyear and got my oil changed. Then I went to target because I needed toothpaste and batteries and socks and new white tshirts. Then I came home did some chores and cleaned up after having a friend over last night. We got taco bell and watched justin beiber never say never and played sonic mania. Then I made chorizo and eggs and put away my laundry finally. I couldn't find my crocs but then I found them deep under my bed and discovered my kittens teeth marks all over them. Rip. Now im getting ready to meet some friends later tonight at our little bar. Maybe later tonight my sister and I will watch another pokemon movie since we've been watching them all in chronological order. It'll be the manaphy one. Baller time

[sterekchub]

Have you done: fat Derek decides to go on a diet, but it makes his normal grouchiness escalate to much and cause tension in the group as he gets snappier and his leadership worsens and can’t think straight, so the team decides to force him to sit down and have a big feast cause they need the old Derek back and decide they should keep him stuffed and less grouchy for now ob.

Oooof I love this. 🥲Derek deserving nice things even they need to be forced upon him is just…everything. (this is gonna be a lot of fluff)

Maybe this is right after Derek loses his Alpha status. Bulging muscles fading away to his normal lithe and muscular form, his powers slowly adjusting themselves to “normal.” The pack might not like Derek- but no one thinks he’s weak or defenseless because he’s not an Alpha anymore. (And he’s still a werewolf, which the humans of the pack constantly point out).

But Derek feels inadequate now that he KNOWS what he was capable of as an Alpha. So he trains even harder. His diet ends up being black coffee, plain chicken breasts and protein powders and vegetables cooked in the smallest amount of oil and not a single hint of salt or pepper or seasoning to be found. Derek trains and eats like his only purpose is to be a soldier for his pack.

Even though his pack is getting increasingly annoyed by Derek who has started yelling at them for every small thing. Throws Isaac into a tree for chewing too loud. Tosses Scott into a window for smelling like peanut butter and eating during training.

They can all see he doesn’t look okay- his muscles look more “bulging” only because he’s dehydrated and they can see him swaying in his feet and light headed.

After more arguments than they can count, with Derek insisting he’s fine and no, he isn’t eating their junk food at weekly pack movie night because he actually cares about his training and form.

“Derek. Stop. It’s pack night, sit and have some pizza.”

Derek who is so touch starved finally he can’t say no when he’s pulled onto the couch between Erica and Stiles and when the pack is all crowded around him, sitting on the floor by his feet or a hand over his shoulder handing him a plate.

He gives in. It feels right. It feels almost like having a family again. So he sort of tunes out listening to Jackson and Stiles bitching at each other, loses track of the many conversations around him, and he doesn’t notice his plate being refilled, that one piece of pizza seeming to multiply until he’s warm and full.

***

Then it keeps happening. The pack grab his black coffee out of his hands and give him a whipped cream covered monstrosity with a bag of fresh bagels. Someone always comes by with a lunch. Boyd and Jackson stop him during his too-intense workouts so he drinks and has snacks. At least two or three people have come to have dinner with him some nights (and most nights he finds himself over with the Sheriff and Stiles, clearing plate after plate and headed home with a Tupperware of leftovers).

Derek is nicer when he’s content and stuffed. Happier. Like the more food he has in his gut, the less thoughts in his head.

They let him know in their own way he can protect them and still be soft. That he can still smash through a solid brick wall even with a pudgy belly and the start of a double chin. Enjoying food and enjoying himself doesn’t make him weak.

(Or he can let himself get even softer. Get stuffed more often so he doesn’t need to think, just has to trust his pack will protect their past Alpha and know what’s best for him…)

[vintagepresley]

Y’all so I’m at this coffee shop writing some requests, lol. They have a bagel called ‘The Elvis’ that has bacon, banana, honey, and peanut butter on it.

I got so excited lol. 🤭

[antimony-medusa]

OSMP Denizens Make A Sandwich

WilburSoot: the cheapest bread he can find, off-brand nutella, bananna, butter, one and a half caffine pills crushed and powdered over the nutella. 

TommyInnit: used to eat only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut into triangles with the crusts cut off, but learned about cucumber sandwiches last month and he eats them cause he thinks it makes him look grown-up. 

Niki Nihachu: Beautiful wood-fired bagels with fresh cream cheese, smoked salmon, dill and cucumber, and just the right amount of capers. We will ignore the fact that this is probably underwater. 

Ranboo: He only knows how to make jelly sandwiches on wonderbread, both from the dollar store, but he puts a perfect square of gold leaf from the craft store on it and tells himself it’s fancy. This is not good for his overall health. 

Tubbo: Have you ever eaten one of those gas station egg salad sandwiches that are made with an inadvisable amount of mayo and iceberg lettuce that is basically frozen? It crunches? He’s got an ongoing project to lovingly recreate this. 

Philza: You know what a bacon sarnie is? Slices of bacon between toasted buttered bread. That. 

Jack Manifold: Fried egg with a molten yolk, hot sauce, avocado, a slice of potato roasted in olive oil, sourdough bread.

Jschlatt/Fragrance Man/Man: Just eats the ingredients for a BLT one by one, including the mayo off a spoon. Complains the whole time that he can’t smell anything. 

Charlie Slimecicile: A pita filled with tzatziki. Over-filled. It’s basically a bread-based bucket of tzatziki that he also dips shreds of lamb into. Ranboo is hypnotized by this entire performance. 

Sneegsnag: Classic club sandwich, including the oversized toothpicks with the little shreds of coloured plastic. He also eats the toothpicks, and finished it up with a nice mug of diner sugar with one coffee just to moisten it. 

Smajor: Fresh Mozzarella, ripe tomato, balsamic reduction, ciabatta bread, fresh basil. People eat it and just start crying. “People” includes Scott. 

Badlinu: Grilled Cheese. Somehow it’s always burnt. Still tastes good with tomato soup though. Has to eat it fast to keep it away from Beau and Tommy, who hate this meal, for reasons not understood to him. 

James Marriot: Whatever he can find in the fridge, between whatever he can find on the counter. Notable examples of this include the Lettuce-Filled Pita Wrap, the Mayo Mustard Sauerkraut Sandwich, and the Bran Muffin With A Slab Of Butter, Orange Zest, And Coconut Sugar On It. 

CaptainSparklez: Diner-standard BLT, toasted, brown bread, with mayo, coffee on the side, pie for dessert. 

Technoblade: It’s just shredded carrots in a wrap, probably with raisins, let’s be honest. Little bit of lemon juice to keep everything fresh. If you remark on it in any way he will hold eye contact with you as he eats it.

Fundy: Arugala, crushed walnuts, halved grapes, pickled beetroot, goat cheese, balsamic reduction, on fresh-baked bread. He has carefully crafted this so that NO ONE will steal it. It is regularly stolen.

Beau Beautie_: Peanut butter, marshmallow fluff, chocolate syrup, toffee bits, instant coffee, wonderbread (cut into triangles with the crusts cut off). Eaten with a beer. 

Shubble: Runs out of the house with a slice of buttered toast in her mouth like the first episode of a school anime. 

#osmp #Wilbur Soot #tommyinnit #niki nihachu #ranboo #tubbo #philza #Jack manifold #jschlatt #charlie slimecicle #sneegsnag #scott smajor #freddie badlinu #james marriot #captain sparklez #technoblade #fundy #beau_ Beautie #shubble #yes I’m doing this and calling it Character Exploration instead of writing #OSMP denizens

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat- Part One

FANDOM: EXTRACTION

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

WARNINGS: angst. Big time angst.

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/122826046

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @secretaryunpaid @arrthurpendragon @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @starryeyes2000​ @kmc1989 @timbradfordsboot @themaradwrites @asirensrage @residentdormouse @thesirenrealm @ocappreciationtag​ @occommunity​ @thebewingedjewelcat​

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you’d like to be added :) ​

*****

Author’s note:  This is a little three-part companion piece to the Tyler and Esme series. However, it follows the timeline of Extraction 2 and contains canon events from the movie. So there are slight spoilers ahead! You’ve been warned :)   You do not need to have read any of the other fics to understand this one. 

This has been a ‘thing’ in progress for a while now.  Something wanted to write about Tyler’s time in the hospital and Esme’s decision to give up her life as she knew it to stick around and support him through it.  I think @tragiclyhip​ had probably heard about my plans for this about a dozen times in the past two years alone LOL.   But the hospital scenes in E2 encouraged me to finally get off my butt and write it.  

A huge thanks to @tragiclyhip​ for the incredible story cover and to @youflickedtooharddamnit​ for coming up with the perfect title! Love you guys :D 

*****

She’s used to it now. The steady hums and beeps of the machines that keep him alive.  

Every new day is like the one before it.   Four months of repeating the same actions from morning until night.  And despite the sterile confines of the Intensive Care Unit, she’s managed to settle into a familiar and somewhat comfortable routine;   on a first-name basis with many of the nurses and support staff,  and the ‘on-ward’ coffee shop baristas able to recite her usual order from sheer memory.  Extra large tea.  Three milk. No sugar.   A toasted bagel with peanut butter for breakfast.  A fruit and yogurt parfait for lunch.  A bowl of soap or a salad for dinner.

Sometimes both.

Her brain is saturated with mundane and useless details; ridiculous little tidbits of information that help keep her sane and functioning. She knows it’s forty-seven paces to the private washroom, another hundred and ten to the kitchen and common area set up for patients’ family members.  And that the vending machine by the communal laundry room is temperamental;  every third quarter is only accepted if you first vigorously rub the edge of it along the metal slot. 

It’s as far as she’s gone.  She hasn’t dared to venture beyond the ward; filled with a sense of dread that the moment she steps foot outside of it, the worst will happen.  As if the shadow of death is just lingering in the corner;  licking its lips as it anxiously and patiently awaits her departure.  Feeling as if she can somehow ward it off if she stays nearby;  not giving that cold and unforgiven hand a chance to get close enough to grab hold of him.  And she’s determined to fight the demon off as long as she possibly can.  

Whether that’s weeks or months. Or even years.  

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Nik had lamented, attempting to cut through that wall built with immense stubbornness and unshakable paranoia.  “You can’t let yourself get rooted to this place. This SPOT.   This isn’t what he would want.”

She’d wanted to tell Nik that perhaps she didn’t know Tyler as well as she thought she did.  After all, she’d never been privy to the sides of him that existed beyond being mercenary;  at her beck and call whenever a job required ‘the best of the best’.   Was it through her own disinterest? Did she simply not care about the human being and only the seemingly fearless ‘gun for hire’? Or was it Tyler’s doing? A case of not allowing or wanting her to get that close? A defensive mechanism perhaps;  weighed down by layers of trauma and loss as he somehow tries to prevent himself from drowning in an angry, unrelenting sea of guilt and regret.  

And she’d found herself irrationally angry at Nik’s mere suggestion;  that somehow she knew him THAT way.  After all, Nik hadn’t experienced those five days in Dhaka. Not in the way SHE had.  It hadn’t been Nik sharing a bed with him;  her body that his mouth and his hands roamed and expertly and effortlessly drove to the heights of a passion she’d never experienced.   She hadn’t been the one he’d been kissing;  her face cradled so delicately within the confines of rough, calloused palms.   And it hadn’t been her that he had opened up to;  openly talking about the death of his son and the horrible decision he’d made in the lead-up to his last weeks on earth.  Nik hadn’t served as his confessional;  her heart breaking as he poured out his entire heart and soul and trusted her with his deepest and darkest -and damning- secret.   

Instead, she’d stayed civil; appreciating the friendship and the help too much to let her hurt feelings and wounded pride destroy her one and only support system.  Remaining calm and quiet as she reminded Nik that the intimacy between herself and Tyler had extended far beyond the physical;  they’d confided in each other and found a shared level of trust and faith that neither had ever experienced with another. They’d made plans;  mused about visiting each other’s respective home countries and then taking some of their payouts and travelling the world.  Making no concrete plans; instead packing lightly and choosing destinations on the whim.  It would give them a chance to get to know one another;  concentrating on nothing but each other and seeing if they could make something -something good, something permanent-  out of the five-day whirlwind they’d experienced in Dhaka.

They’d been excited.  Optimistic.

And then the world opened up beneath them and swallowed them whole.

******

Every morning begins the same.  

Stirred awake by the arrival of the day shift nurse;  a young woman fresh out of college that possesses both enormous compassion and remarkable wisdom.  The only one that doesn’t look at her with a mixture of pity and irritation;  who doesn’t sigh in annoyance when she’s asked the same questions during EVERY vitals check and who always has something positive to say instead of the usual doom and gloom.   Always feeding into the hope that Esme so desperately clings to;  sharing stories of patients who’d been through worse and had ‘been under’ much longer,  but had one day come out of things and gone on to live healthy, successful lives.   

She sees how the others look at her; the way they huddle together at the nurse’s station and whisper as she passes by.   As of yet she hasn’t addressed the issue or called them out;  too lost in her own little world powered by fear,  worry,  and stress unlike anything she’s ever known.  But she has daydreamed about it;  the moment when she’ll finally have enough and stand up for herself.  How satisfying it will be to see their shocked and embarrassed expressions when she addresses them in Arabic; one of the six languages aside from English that she’d long ago mastered during her time in the Corps.  And she’ll let them know that she isn’t the weak little girl that they view her as;   that she is a grown-ass woman who isn’t delusional or crazy for clinging so desperately to any sign of hope. 

 Yes, it’s true; she and Tyler HAVEN’T known each other for long.  Only a week if their initial meeting and the twenty-four hours of mission planning were taken into consideration.  But she isn’t pathetic for fighting for the best possible care for him.  Or for holding onto the optimism that one day she WILL get more time with him.   That he’ll fight his way out of the coma and begin that long road of healing.

Sleep hasn’t been her friend since Dhaka;  plagued by bloody and brutal nightmares that replay those desperate moments on the bridge.  The events disjointed and out of place, but extremely vivid;  witnessing him taking the bullet to the neck and seeing the fear and panic immediately take over his face.  The terror in his eyes as he attempted to get get to safety;  a hand clasped tightly over the wound as blood seeped through his fingers and trickled down his arm.  Her screams as clear as the day they’d escaped from her mouth;  repeatedly calling out his name as fought her way out of Nik’s protective embrace.  

It’s so real when it happens; as if she’s transported back to the exact place and the exact time. Able to smell the mixture of spent gunpowder and spilt gasoline and the polluted water wafting up from the river.   Feel the oppressive humid and choking humidity;  the sun ferocious as it pounded down upon her,  and the cement so scorching that when she kneels upon it burns her skin through the fabric of her pants.  The weight of his much larger, stronger body as it lays upon her thighs;  a fear and desperation in his eyes as he clung desperately to the front of her t-shirt and struggled in vain to speak through the damage done to his body.

And the blood.  So much blood.   

Pouring through her fingers as she attempted to cover the wound and keep pressure on it.  Her entire body and her voice trembling as she tried her best to remain calm;  repeatedly assuring him that help was on its way while trying to succumb to the fear that no one was coming to save them.  They’d be left behind with no possible means of escape.  And Asif’s remaining men would find them; either putting bullets in their head to kill them immediately or leaving Tyler there to die while dragging her back to days, weeks, even months of sheer hell under their boss’ roof.  Trying to ward off the thoughts of the ‘worst case scenario’, she’d instead focused on doing whatever it took to keep  Tyler alive. Tears streaming down her face as she apologized for having to cause him more pain in order to help him, then proceeding to push two fingers through the bullet wound in an attempt to pinch off the flow of blood right from the source.

Asleep or not, she can still hear the strangled scream he’d given; see the way his eyes briefly fluttered and then rolled towards the back of his head as he lost consciousness.

It’s a sound…and a sight…she will never forget.

*****

She isn’t in the mood for being social.  Normally she’d cheerfully greet the nurse and then force herself out of bed;  her back and her neck aching from a night on the rickety folding cot as she made her way to Tyler’s side.  It’s a mixture of things;  the hope that she’ll be told of even the smallest improvement in his condition and a lingering fear…a paranoia…that someone will further harm him.  That news of his survival will prompt the need for revenge;  Asif sending someone under the guise of a nurse to perhaps put something…some kind of toxic…into his IV line to ‘finish the job’.

It’s absurd, of course.  And a sign that she’s truly starting to lose it.

This morning she ignores the nurse’s arrival and opts to stay in bed; completely wrapping her body in her blankets as she rolls onto her side.   Despite the sunshine that pours into the central courtyard, her mood is dark and troublesome;  she feels empty and incredibly lonely and wishes she’d simply died that day on the bridge.  It would have been so much easier;  if death had just claimed them both instead of banishing them to a  wasteland of fear and dread.   Scared every time she even goes to the bathroom or to take a shower that something terrible will happen;  her absence being the precise time that his body decides to give up the fight and move onto a far more peaceful, pain-free existence.   

She doesn’t entertain those thoughts often;  managing to hold onto that shred of hope that carries her from one day…one hour…one hour…one second…to the next.   But every so often the doom and gloom creeps in;  the times when she considers all the negativity that the doctors have been spoon-feeding her for months.   The way they’ve gently pressured her to simply move on with her life;  she hasn’t known him that long and surely his loss wouldn’t be THAT big of a tragedy.   

They insist they know what’s best for BOTH of them;  a peaceful demise for Tyler and her finding a way to forget that he ever existed.   And when she refuses to budge and reminds them that she’s calling the shots, they change their tactics;  speaking of massive brain damage and considerable loss of cognitive function IF he comes out of the coma.  Issuing warnings that he’ll likely need one-to-one care for the rest of his days; someone that can help feed him and dress him and get him in and out of the shower.  Is that really the kind of life SHE wants?

“I don’t care if I have to take care of him,” she’d angrily informed them.  “I don’t care if I have to help with ANY of that.  If I have to spend the rest of my life helping him to the bathroom, I’ll do it.  In a heartbeat.”

It’ll be days before they approach the subject again.  Allowing her time to ‘cool down’ before once more bringing it;  the badgering to turn off the machines and let ‘nature take its course’.   And they meet the same brick wall time and time again;  unable to win the battle against her stubbornness as she digs her heels in even deeper. 

Her eyes close as the nurse’s footfalls grow closer;  smelling the aroma of freshly brewed tea as a cup and placed upon the window ledge.  And she remains perfectly still as a hand is placed upon the top of her head; a fleeting yet affectionate and concerned moment before the blankets are tucked protectively around her body.   Her chest immediately tightens and tears threaten; it’s been decades since anyone -outside of romantic partners- had shown that level of care and concern.  Her own mother had been void of any kind of love and tenderness for her;  showing nothing but the utmost disdain and showing no interest in bonding with her daughter in any way, shape, or form.   

Yet here was a woman -younger than Esme herself- in possession of such tenderness and compassion; willingly accepting the role of caretaker in regards to a non-patient. 

A complete stranger.  

She wants to bury her face in her pillow and cry;  let out all of the emotions that have been weighing her down for the last five months.  A multitude of so many things;  guilt and hopelessness and emptiness beyond anything she’s ever experienced.   A stark contrast compared to what she’d felt in Dhaka;  behind closed doors when the job could be temporarily forgotten and they’d become nothing more than two broken and lonely people finding solace in each other.   It had been the first time -in what seemed like decades- that she’d ever felt that connected to someone;  able to be honest and transparent and not feel pitied or looked down upon.   Her ex-husband had destroyed her;  mentally and physically.  And she’d sworn that she’d never…ever…trust a man again;  refusing to hand over her heart only to have it ripped from her chest and thrown on the ground and stomped upon.

Tyler was different.

Even with the mountains of baggage and his extreme self-loathing, he had shown a genuine interest in not only her, but in her interests and the things she had to share.   Whether it was in that bar in Dhaka the first night -when they’d shared pitchers of beer and lost count of the number of tequila shooters they’d pounded back- or two days later;  when they’d found themselves caught in a mess of tangled sheets and sweaty, naked limbs.   Surrendering to an intense sexual attraction in the midst of the craziness and unpredictability of the job;  unabashedly using one another for not only physical pleasure, but as an escape from the profound emptiness that haunted them both. And they’d somehow segued so seemingly and effortlessly into something much more meaningful;  quickly trusting and opening up to one another and forming a unique and powerful bond within the confines of that dirty little hotel room.

 He hadn’t been the least bit ‘put off’ by her backstory or the emotions she showed while sharing it; an infinite amount of patience and understanding in both his eyes and his touch.  Making her feel ‘seen’ for the first time in her entire life;  able to truly be herself and not feel judged or ridiculed for it.  She was finally wholly and completely accepted. By a man with even higher and thicker walls built around his heart and soul.

And above all else, he’d made her feel wanted.  Needed. Beautiful. Desirable.  Looked upon as if she was the most incredible woman in the world.

How could she possibly give it…ALL OF IT…up?

****

Waiting until she hears the soft click of the door as it closes, she tosses off the blankets;  yawning noisily and rubbing at her stiff neck and shoulders as she swings her legs over the side of the cot.   She’s slept in worse places; off-the-grid caves and huts and bombed-out towns in both Afghanistan and Iraq.  With not even the tiniest bit of comfort that the pencil-thin cot mattress provides her with;  memories of using layers of broken down garbage boxes or piles of dry and withered leaves and even just the rocks and sand as a foundation to rest upon.  

But she’d been younger then; fresh out of university and full of life and energy and possessed by an unshakable lust for adventure and danger.   The intel field was her specialty;  her tiny size and ‘girl next door’ looks and ‘apple pie’ personality opening doors that were inaccessible to others.  Earning a well-respected and rock-solid reputation as she easily and effortlessly wormed and weaved her way into the tightest of circles. Surrounding herself with dangerous and shady characters that were enabled and empowered by even more deadly and vicious leaders.  

It had been those experiences and their accompanying successes -along with her tumultuous, failed marriage- that had eventually led her to Nik.  

And that little rundown shack in the Australian outback. 

Shoving her feet into a pair of nearby Crocs,  she gathers her messy, dark tresses in both hands;  fashioning them into a ponytail that she secures with an elastic she keeps around her left wrist.  And taking a single sip of tea, she returns the cup to the window ledge before approaching the bed;  snagging that chart that hangs from a hook on the footboard and quickly scanning through the notes that the nurse had left behind.   She’s not sure what she’s actually looking for;  perhaps the smallest bit of information that signals some kind of change in his condition.   It’s that hope again;  the little shred she clings to when she’s at her lowest.   Not a praying person by any stretch of the imagination, but always begging to some higher power to give her a sign…no matter how minuscule…that things are on the upswing.

Today is NOT the day.

Returning the chart to its resting place, she moves to the side of the bed and lowers the safety railing; frowning when she notices the awkward placement of the pillows meant to keep his upper body well supported.

“I’m just going to fix something real quick,” she says aloud, then carefully slips an arm between him and the bed; the back of his head cradled in her palm as her free hand fluffs and realigns the pillows.  “I don’t do this? You’re going to have a hell of a stiff neck when you get up.”

It usually gives her a sense of normalcy; talking to him as if he’s going to respond.  Helping to keep her sane; imagining his accent, what he’d say in return, and what his facial expressions would look like.   In some ways, those five days in Dhaka had felt like a lifetime; feeling closer and more connected to him than people she had known for decades. Even for her entire existence.  Able to read him so easily during both the quiet and more intimate times;  every emotion and feeling laid bare on his face and especially in his eyes.   But today she almost feels foolish;  the pit in both her heart and stomach open and raw and allowing the negativity of all of the naysayers to ooze and fester.

Attempting to keep the darkness away, she places a knee on the mattress; allowing her to get closer to him as she navigates her way around all of the tubes and the wires connected to his body.   A hand resting on his chest as she presses a series of kisses to warm, smooth skin;  the middle of his brow, the bridge of his nose,  the corner of his mouth.  Her eyes briefly closing as she rests her forehead against his temple and breathes in his scent;  saddened that the familiarity of sandalwood, cedar, and slight citrus have long been replaced by the sickly, almost sweet smell of hospital.  

Antiseptic. Illness.  And lingering death.

The latter she refuses to consider. And she forces away the tears as she pulls back to look at him;  her fingers moving slowly and adoringly through his hair.  It’s so much fuller now; a testament to just how long it’s been since they escaped death on the bridge.  The longer top strands continuously falling across his forehead and into his eyes;  the shorter ones now tumbling down and curling over his ears and skimming the nape of his neck.   

It’s so hard to see him like this.  The change more apparent with every passing day.   His skin gray and sickly;  replacing that slight tan that had once given him colour.  Dark circles taking up residence under both eyes and his lips painfully dry; his cheeks becoming hollow under the thicker, darker beard.  And the loss of weight and muscle tone clearly visible;  the hospital gown slipping off sharp, pointier shoulders and hanging loosely over a once broad chest and chiselled stomach.   

But he’s still Tyler. The man that she’d been quickly and unabashedly drawn to the moment she’d met him.  Nothing could EVER replace that person;   those brilliant blue eyes that attempt to mask the pain of his past and the lingering humanity he possessed,  that tightly drawn mouth that betrayed his sadness but -when she lightly teased him and flirted with him in the hotel bar- had transformed into a slow, almost boyish smile. Who tilted his head to the side while listening to her drunken rambles;  shy and withdrawn at first, but the liquid courage consumed through the evening bringing out a more talkative and charming side.   Surprisingly well-read and intelligent;  a man that had seen, done, and experienced the worst yet hadn’t let it completely tarnish his spirit. Not as empty and hollow and dead inside as he believed;  his laugh and the way he teased her and the moments when his fingertips intentionally brushed against hers paying testament to a man who was still very much alive.   

Who could still FEEL.

“Good morning,” she greets, and places another kiss at the corner of his mouth, smiling as she lightly and affectionately tousles his hair.  “First thing we’re going to do when you get out of here? Cut this mop of yours.  I mean, it’s not THAT bad; it’s starting to grow on me and I guess it is kinda cute.  But I DO have my preferences.”

She carefully lowers herself into a sit; folding her legs in her lap before taking one of his hands in both of hers.  Tightly squeeze before using her thumbs to lightly massage his fingers;  paying extra attention to each misshapen knuckle before moving down to his wrist.  Last week he’d shown a small response to the ministrations;  his fingers giving a slight twitch and his heart rate climbing several beats.   It had given her a newfound sense of optimism;  further fuelling the hope that he was fighting his back.  Until the neurologist told her it was likely involuntarily; a common and unexpected hike in the numbers and nothing more than random nerve  ‘flinches’.

She waits for it now; eyes on the monitor, anxiously chewing on the inside of her cheek.   

Nothing.

“I don’t care what they say,” she informs him, and turns his hand over;  setting it on her thigh with the palm facing upwards. “I know you meant to do it. It wasn’t just something random.  It was totally intentional.  I know it. I know YOU.”

For several minutes she sits in silence. Listening to the beeps and the hums of the various machines as her fingertips glide over his palm; alternating between repeatedly tracing slow, methodical circles and gently picking at the calluses at the bottom of his thumb and each finger. Such big, beautiful hands; able to inflict both immense pain and mind and body-numbing pleasure.   Capable of not only taking a life in the most bloody and gruesome ways, but also possessing a tenderness unlike anything she’s ever experienced.   Moments when he smoothes hair away from her face and loops wayward strands behind her ears.  Or he cradles her face in his hands as he kisses her;  her mind and her pulse racing from the juxtaposition of rough, battered skin and smooth, soft lips.

She’s looking at the monitor when she both feels and hears it;  the slight bump of his leg against the side of her thigh and the quiet rustle of the skin against sheets.   For a brief moment her heart stops and she forgets to brief;  eyes snapping away from the numbers displayed on the screen to his face.  Hoping and praying for something more;  the flutter of eyelashes or the twitch of his lips or even the slightest murmur or mumble from around the tube held securely in his mouth.

“Do that again,” she implores, and tightly squeezes his hand in both her own.  “I know I wasn’t imagining it.  And I know it wasn’t what the doctor said; something random and involuntary. You MEANT to do it. I know you did. So do it again. Please?”

She returns to massaging his hand;  focusing once more on fingers and wrist as a form of encouragement.   Alternating behind studying his face for any subtle change and glancing back at his left leg;  silently begging and pleading for it to move once.

“Tyler…” Sighing, she tightens her grip on his hand; tears burning her eyes, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice.   “...you need to give me something here.   I’m not expecting much; I don’t expect you to open your eyes or squeeze my hand or anything big like that.  But I need SOMETHING. ANYTHING.  That lets me know you’re in there.  That you’re not going anywhere.  That you’re fighting your way back.”

She wants to break down but refuses to give in to the darkness;  adamant to not surrender to her own issues and weaknesses.   That’s the last thing he needs;  sensing and hearing the pain and the desperation in her voice.   Right now he needs her to be the strong one;  the steadfast rock that he can depend on.

“I’m worried,” she admits.  “They’re really getting on my ass now.  About taking you off the machine.  I can only fight and argue so much before they bring out the big guns.  They’ve already threatened it; taking me to court and getting an order to halt all your care.  I can’t let that happen.  I can’t let them just give up on you. I WON’T let them.   But I need your help.  I need you to show them that this isn’t a lost cause.  That I’m not just fighting a losing battle.  So if you could just do SOMETHING…just something really small…to show them that you’re still here.   I know you don’t want to die.   A man that wants to die doesn’t talk about the things we talked about.  They don’t make the plans we did.   So please…”  She’s unable to contain the tears that slip down her cheeks.  “...Tyler…help me.   I need your help. I need YOU.”

She waits for several minutes and then issues a heavy, dejected sigh.  The optimism quickly fading as he remains motionless;  stuck somewhere between the living and dead,  frantically searching for the correct exit.  And she uses the back of her hand to swipe at the tears that glisten upon her cheeks; silently scolding herself for a moment of weakness during a time that calls for courage and strength.  

“I’m going to let you rest,” she says, and slips off the bed.  “I’m going to go and have my tea and do my yoga and then take a shower.  Once that’s done, I’ll be all yours. But for now…” Her voice trails off as she feels the movement against her hand; the light and feathery brush of a finger along the side of her wrist.   And it feels as if she can’t breathe as she glances over her shoulder and down at the mattress; choking back a sob -one of immense relief- at the sight of his hand partially covering hers.   

The hope returns.  

“I knew it.”  Placing a hand on the top of his head, she tunnels her fingers tunnelling in his hair as leans over him. Her eyes closing as she presses a kiss above his left eyebrow and then nuzzles his temple with the tip of her nose. “I KNEW IT.”

*****

She’s asleep when Nik arrives in the late afternoon; awkwardly slumped forward in the bedside chair with both her hands clutching one of Tyler’s and her head resting on his forearm.  And she’s stirred awake by a hand passing gently over the top of her head;  sliding down her hair and settling in the middle of her back.   The fatigue is crippling; emotional and physical exhaustion unlike anything she’s ever experienced before.   But the moment that morning has kept her spirits uplifted, and she glances up at Nik and gives her a sleepy smile in greeting.

“You’re going to end up in traction falling asleep like that,” Nik teases.

“Guess I dozed off.  I meant to just rest my eyes, but…”

“You need to sleep. Properly.  You can’t tell me you’re getting enough rest on that thing,” she nods in the direction of the cot.  “Let me get you somewhere to stay.  A hotel. An air BNB.  Somewhere close by.  I know you won’t come as far as my place;  even a half-hour flight is way too long. Just let me…”

She’s made the offer several times over the past five months;  gently suggesting one of the finer hotels or even a short-term apartment rental.   Willing to pick up the tab;  the weapons dealing gig and the mercenary business leaving her with a healthy share of disposable income.  Despite a fairly lavish lifestyle. 

Yawning, Esme smoothes wayward strands of hair from the side of her face. “I’m fine here. I don’t want to leave.  I CAN’T leave.”

“He’d want you to take care of yourself.  You can’t pour from an empty cup.”

“My cup is nowhere near empty.”

Nik arches an eyebrow and stares down at her pointedly.

“It’s not,” she insists. “I know my own cup.  I know how much it can take.  I’m fine.”

Nik relents. The heels of her simple black pumps click noisily against the polished tile as she heads for the small sitting area; setting her purse and a small duffle bag on the sofa before shrugging out of her trench coat and draping it over the back of one of the armchairs.   

“I thought you wouldn’t be back in until sometime next week,” Esme says, as her friend joins her at Tyler’s bedside; pulling over an extra chair and sitting down across from her.  “Didn’t you have business in Brunei?”

“I got home last night; I was able to wrap things up quicker than I anticipated.  I thought I would come by. Check on things.”

“Things have been good.  Well, as good as they can be, I guess.”     

Her entire body stiffens as she watches Nik engage with him;  the way she smooths his hair away from his eyes and continuously brushes her thumb across his forehead.  She tries to tell herself that she’s reading too much into it;  the softness of Nik’s face and the tears shimmering in her eyes and tenderness in the way she touches him. She knows of their past;  a strictly physical ‘arrangement’ that had gone smoothly until Nik developed feelings and suddenly wanted more than he was willing to give.   His brutal honesty had caused friction in both their friendship and their work life;  Nik understandably hurt when he’d informed her that he didn’t feel the same way. And never would.   If she wanted something like THAT,  she’d have to find it somewhere else.

She wonders now if there’s some kind of residual anger on Nik’s behalf.  Maybe even some jealousy.   It would be a bitter pill to swallow;  the man that you wanted not feeling the same way in return.  Who’d told you that he’d never be ready to commit to ANYONE that way.  Only to do a complete three-sixty less than a year later.  

“Any change?”  Nik addresses her,  a hand now resting on top of one of Tyler’s.  

“No.”   The lie rolls easily off of her tongue;  not in a hurry to share what had taken place earlier.   She needs more proof;  more instances of voluntary and meaningful movement and interaction before she confides in Nik or even thinks of taking the information to the nurses.   She’s been ignored and ridiculed before;  excited about progress he seemed to be making only to be told it was ‘all in her head’.   

Nik smiles.  It’s meant to be comforting. Reassuring. But it’s laced with pity.  “Maybe soon.”

*****

They sit together in the seating area on the opposite side of Tyler’s room while a personal support worker tends to trimming his nails and beard. And she has to struggle to hold back the urge to tell the woman to leave;  much preferring to do even those tasks herself.  It makes her feel useful; helping with even the most basic of needs.   As if she finally has some kind of purpose in life;  someone that she can nurture and care for and feel as if she’s achieving something meaningful.

 Something GOOD.

Perhaps in a way, it’s a form of seeking absolution.   A chance to prove that she’s deserving of forgiveness for all the wrongs she’d committed in the course of the last few years.   She’s done some questionable things in the name of the job;  the lying and the conning and the forming relationships and bonds with people only to lead them to punishment and certain death.   The mercenary word is a double-edged sword;  a life spent hunting down the most atrocious of people only to find yourself resorting to the most atrocious of behaviour to bring them to justice.   And not a justice that involves due process or human rights or judge and jury.  But one that included horrendous violence and bloodshed.

And an enormous payout.

Nik has brought food from home;  Khoresht-e fesenjan, Persian rice and Sangak bread. Admitting -somewhat sheepishly as she loaded up two plates with the various offerings- that Yaz had prepared it. His interests extending far past soccer, TikTok, and pricey designer clothes.  And they engage in small talk as they eat, Esme listening as  Nik shares the details of her recent business trip to Brunei.  Taking on an extremely high profile client in the weapons dealing department;  someone needing to protect themselves and their family -via an army of heavily equipped bodyguards. And for a brief moment, she considers the surreality of the conversation,  wondering when -and how- her life had gone off the beaten path and found its way HERE.   In this business.  Her closest friends…HER FAMILY…gun runners and mercenaries.

“I’ve been doing a little searching,” Nik announces, as pushes her empty dishes and containers of food aside;  laying sheets of paper on the top of the coffee table.  Images that she’s printed off the internet;  different angles taken of a small cabin -situated mere feet from an icy lake- surrounded by towering pine trees and snow-covered mountains.  “And l found a little place. It’s perfect.”

“I didn’t realize you were looking to add to your collection of houses,”  Esme chides.  “Doesn’t really seem your style.  Unless maybe it’s for the job.  A place to hide people away.  A safe house.”

“It’s in Austria. Gmunden.  On the outskirts of town.  Remote.  Peaceful. And it’s not for me. Or the job.”

“Nik…”

‘I know you think I’m overstepping. And maybe I am.  But I care about you.  And I’m worried about you.”

Leaning forward, Esme scoops up a handful of pictures.  The cabin and its surroundings remind her of home. Or what USED to be her home.  Raised in a small town in Colorado situated at the foot of the Rocky Mountains.  She hasn’t been there in years; estranged from an abusive mother and five older brothers.   And she hasn’t had the desire to return;  enjoying life in that small little apartment in Prague;  settling down in the Czech Republic after troubles with The High Table had caused her to flee New York City.

She sighs as she tosses the photos onto the coffee table. “I can’t afford this.”

“You don’t have to. It’s a gift.  From Yaz and I.  Somewhere YOU can recuperate.   Mentally.”

“I’m fine.   I don’t need a place to hide away.  It’s beautiful and I’m sure I’d love it there.  And I appreciate the offer.  I appreciate EVERYTHING you’ve been doing for me. For US.  But…”

“You don’t leave the ward.   You barely leave this room.  You haven’t seen the sun in nearly five months.”

“I see it every day.” She gestures to the wall of windows that give a view of the central courtyard.   “Unless it’s raining, of course.”

“You haven’t felt it on your skin.  You haven’t breathed in fresh air.  You haven’t seen or spoken to anyone NOT connected to all of this.”

“I’ll get a chance to do all of that when this is all over.  When it’s all behind us.  Once he’s better and he’s out here and we never have to see this place ever again.  Once that happens…”

“And if he doesn’t?” Nik gently challenges. “Get better? Get out of here? What then?”

“He WILL.   He’s going to open his eyes and he’s going to get off that machine and he’s going to breathe on his own and…”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know that he won’t.  Why are you giving up on him? Why is everyone in such a hurry? Why does everyone just want to wash their hands of him and count him out? Why…?”

“No one wants to do any of that. But some of us…as much as it hurts…are being realistic.  We are being truthful.  You’re hanging on to this very thin thread and it is getting thinner every day.  We care about YOU.  We’re worried about YOU.  This isn’t healthy.   This vigil you’re holding.  Having hope is one thing, but THIS?”

“He’ll be fine,” Esme remains steadfast.  “He’ll come out of that coma and he’ll be alright.  It’ll take some time, but he’ll do it.  He’ll be Tyler again.  Why won’t anyone believe me?”

“Look at him!  Do you really think this is fair? Leaving him like this? Do you really WANT him to be like this?”

“It’s not permanent. He’s not always going to be this way.   This is just temporary. He’s going to be fine.  He’ll get back on his feet and…”

“He has a machine breathing for him!  Keeping him alive.  I know you think you’re doing what’s best for him…”

“I AM.  I AM doing what’s best for him.   I’m the only one that is.  I’m the only person not giving up on him.  The rest of you are so caught up in just pulling the plug that…”

“Esme, I care about you.   You’re my friend.   You’re the closest thing that Yaz and I have to other family. And I am not saying these things to hurt you.   I’m saying them to get you to open your eyes to what’s really going on.  This isn’t living. He’s not doing this on his own.  Machines are doing it for him. How long are you willing to leave him like this?  A couple more weeks? Months? Years?”

“Just until there’s a sign.  Until something happens where he shows that he’s going to be okay. I just want everyone to give him a chance.  To prove you all wrong.”

“It’s been five months.  Since you got here.  And there’s been no sign. Not even the slightest. Not a twitch of his eyes or his fingers or…”

“His MRI last week showed brain activity,” Esme reminds her friend.   “THAT’S something.”

“Then take him off the machine and…”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He needs more time.  Just a bit.  To get a little stronger.”

“You won’t do it because you’re afraid of what’s going to happen.  Keeping him on it ensures he stays alive.  There’s no guarantee that he’ll breathe on his own once he’s off it, and that’s what scares you; the fact he might die.  As long as you keep him hooked up to that vent, he stays alive and you don’t have to face the worst-case scenario.”

“He just needs a little while longer.  Once he’s a bit stronger, I’ll do it.  I’ll tell them to take him off.  I will.  I promise.”

“You said that two months ago.  You made that same promise.”

“And he’s improved.  Even the doctors have said so.  That there’s some sign; that things are functioning okay and there’s some healing going on and…”

“But there’s not enough.  He’s nowhere where he should be IF things are working properly.   How long are you willing to prolong this? To leave him this way?  Another month? Two? Half a year? A year?”

“I don’t know.  As long as it takes, I guess.”

“Esme….”  Standing, Nik pushes the coffee table aside and then kneels in front of her friend.   “....look at me.”

She vigorously shakes her head in refusal.

 “Look at me,” Nik sternly repeats, and takes her face in her hands; the light pressure of her fingernails in the other woman’s cheeks enough to force eye contact. “I am NOT saying these things to hurt you. I’m trying to get you to see what you are doing to him.  And yourself.”

“I’m doing what he’d want.”

“You don’t know that.  You haven’t known him long enough.  To know what he’d want in a situation like this.”

“I know what happened. In Dhaka.  In that hotel room.  You weren’t there. I WAS.   I know the things we talked about; the plans that we made.  And he’d want to go through with those. So I’m giving him a chance. To get better. So he can have those things.”

“So he can have them or YOU can have them?”

“What’s wrong with wanting them?  With wanting time with him? It’s what we talked about; travelling the world, spending time together, getting to know one another. What’s wrong with wanting that?”

“You’re wanting them at his expense.”

“That’s not true.  I just want everyone to give him a chance.  That’s all I’m asking for.  Why can’t you give him that? A chance? He deserves that.  He paid his dues, Nik. He’s made his amends.  Now give him a goddamn chance. Please.”

“I have been.  For months.”

“If it’s the cost you’re worried about, I can find more money. You don’t have to pay for EVERYTHING.  I can get it somewhere.  I know Tyler has some; at his place in The Kimberley. I don’t know where it’s kept or how much there is exactly,  but I know it’s there somewhere. He told me about it. Keeping a million stashed away. You know, for a ‘rainy day’. All you’d have to do is look for it. It’s not like it’s a big place and if it’s not enough, then…”

“I don’t care about money. I don’t want any from you. Or him.   I said I would take care of things and I am.  No matter how much it ends up costing That’s not what this is about. This is about YOU.   And the decisions you’re making.  I know you want to believe they’re what’s best for Tyler…”

“They ARE what’s best for him. I am doing what he would want.”

“You don’t know that. Not really.   And I think if you were to be totally honest with yourself, you’d admit you’re really doing what’s best for you.”

“That’s not fair, Nik.  I know you think I’m being selfish and that I’m…”

“I don’t think that. And I’ve never said it, either.  I think YOU think it; when you really stop and you get a chance to realize what exactly is happening.   I think you feel that way about yourself. Do you feel that way? Selfish?”

“Sometimes.”

“And then it makes you feel guilty; when you realize you’re doing it more for yourself than you are for him.   You’re trying to hold off the inevitable. But for how long? How long can YOU live like this?  Staying in this room? Putting your life…a REAL life…on the back burner?  How long?”

“As long as I have to.”

“You think Tyler would want that? For you?  This kind of life?  Do you think he’d want you to spend years like this? That would make HIM selfish. And we both know that he’s not a selfish person. He’s selfless if anything.  And he would not want this for you.”

Esme glances towards the bed;  the PSW having long departed, leaving him in that lonely, terrifying void between life and death.   It’s heartbreak unlike anything she’s ever known;   watching someone waste away and become nothing more than a shell of themselves.  He deserves so much better;  his willingness to sacrifice his own life in order to save her and Ovi had earned him a second chance.  An absolution.  And despite his inability to interact with her, these last five months have brought them closer together than any amount of travelling could have ever possibly achieved.   

******

“You love him.”  It’s a statement. Not a question.

She chews on her bottom lip; shaking her head as she looks back at her friend.  “I don’t know.”

“I think you do know.  But for some reason, you don’t want to admit it. Especially to yourself.”

“There’s no way you can feel it this soon. Love.  It takes longer than this. WAY longer.”

“It takes as long as it takes.  Whether it’s a quick process or a long, drawn-out one.”

“But we’ve only known each other for a week.  It’s not like you can count any of the time after Dhaka;  he hasn’t actually been able to put anything into it, you know?  It’s all been pretty one-sided; the time we’ve spent together here,  the conversation, the bonding.  It’s not like he’s been able to take part.  Through no fault of his own.”

“I would say that under normal circumstances, perhaps a week IS too soon.  But these are hardly normal circumstances.   Look at everything you’ve done for him;  everything you’ve given up.   Do you really think just anyone would do this for someone? A person they barely know?  Abandon their entire life…their entire being nearly…to stick by their side? Through all of this?”

“I don’t want him to be alone. Regardless of the outcome.  He deserves so much better than that.  I know he’s made some mistakes.  But he doesn’t deserve to pay for them for the rest of his life. Or WITH his life? I wasn’t going to leave him here, Nik.  I was going to let him go through this by himself. And I especially wasn’t going to let him die alone.”

“Because you love him.”

“I don’t know.  I don’t know if I’m just grasping at straws or if I’m just imagining that we had something really good…really special…in Dhaka. Maybe I’m reading too much into it; the things that happened between us, the things we talked about. Maybe…”

“You’re not.  You were there.  You know what was said.  What happened. In that hotel room.  And you know what your heart is telling you.  You just have to believe it.  TRUST it.”

Heaving a shaky sigh, she blinks back a flood of threatening tears.  “It scares me.  Feeling this way.”

“Why? Because it is so soon?”

“The last person I trusted?  The last person I gave my heart to? They broke me, Nik.  Physically. Mentally.”

“Tyler isn’t Mark,” Nik reminds her.  “He’s not even close to being him.”

“I told myself that I’d never get this close to anyone ever again.  That I’d learned my lesson.  That it was just better if I stayed by myself. Didn’t get attached.  You don’t get hurt that way, you know?  I’ve gotten used to fighting my own battles. Protecting myself.  And then I met him and everything changed.  I changed.”

“You love him.”

Nodding, a hand swipes at the tears that manage to escape.  “I love him.”

“You should tell him.”

“I don’t even know if he can hear me.  I want to believe he can; that all those little times he’s reacted to my voice weren’t just something random.  Some muscle twitch or nerve reaction.  I want to believe that they’ve been intentional; that he’s listening to me and he understands what I’m saying. That he’s fighting his way back. To ME.”

“Do you really want to take a chance? Not saying what you need to say?  What if he CAN hear you?  And understand what you’re saying.  Do you really want to hold back? Because what if something happens and you never get the chance to say those things to him?”

Esme gives a dry laugh. “I mean, I guess it’s kind of better this way, right? Saying them while he’s like this?  Can’t get rejected when the person you’re pouring your heart out to is in a coma.”

“That wouldn’t happen.  He wouldn’t reject you.  Unconscious or not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I DO know that.  I also know you’ll regret it; if he doesn’t make it and you never told him. Don’t do that to yourself.  Don’t let yourself live with that kind of regret. It’s a horrible existence, believe me.”

“I just don’t want it to blow up in my face.  When he wakes up.  I don’t want him turning around and saying, ‘I’m flattered. But thanks and no thanks.”

“I know Tyler.  More than he even realizes.  And trust me when I say that is NEVER going to happen.”

“So just spit out?  Hope for the best? Hope he can actually hear me?”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing for the last five months?  Hoping for the best?”

Esme nods; sniffling noisily as she uses the front of her t-shirt to clear excess tears from her face.

“I know you’re scared,”  Nik sympathizes. “For a lot of different reasons.   But trust me when I say that there’s no reason to add THIS to your list.”

“I’d do it again.   In a heartbeat.  Stay behind on that bridge.  Stay here.  I’d do it time and time again. No questions asked.  You know that, right?  That I’d do it a million times over?”

Smiling, Nik reaches out to loop wayward strands of hair behind her friend’s ears.  “I know.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Tyler Rake fanfic #Extraction fanfic #Tyler Rake x OFC #Chris Hemsworth #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Nik Khan #Esme Drummond #Esme Drummond-Rake

[chaos-cousins]

Pelipper mail!

A sandwich.

It contains ice cream, whipped cream, sponge cake, meat balls, broccoli, pineapple, strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, rice, noodles, mac and cheese, bacon, beef jerky, dried fish, seaweed, one of every Pokemon berry, jam, olive oil, lotus, dragon fruit, ravioli, ramen, tempura, teriyaki chicken, macaroons, escargots, mint, pepper, salt, sugar, croquettes, pickles, apples, avocados, sausages, bell peppers, grapes, pizza, a donut, cheese, more cheese, even more cheese, mushrooms, mustard, olives, a fried egg, a scrambled egg, blueberries, a poached egg, chawanmushi, a red bean bun, mochi, bbq sauce, chicken nuggets, french fries, takoyaki, pancakes, mackerel, salmon, coffee beans, spinach, a tiny bit of corn cream soup, ramensanga, fettucine alfredo, a plain bagel, pretzels, chocolate chip cookies, sweet potato, yam, potato, scallions, scallops, squid, crab stick, fish balls, fish cakes, oyster sauce, silken tofu, barley, cereal, paprika, oysters, red snapper, sea bass, plums, bean sprouts, garlic, string cheese, camembert, swiss cheese, mozzarella, parmesan cheese, yogurt, brinjal, a macdonald’s happy meal (without the toy and the packaging of course), truffles, caviar, tapioca balls, fried chicken, century eggs, cake sprinkles, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white chocolate, milk tea (just a tinge), coffee (also a tinge), pudding, pumpkin, honey, mutton, mashed potatoes, bananas, icelandic fermented shark that they bury in the ground for months, raisins, dried mangoes, a drop of water, jelly, nata de coco, prunes, roasted pork, rosemary, bee pollen, peas, deer meat, rabbit meat, fish maw, ham, turkey, m&ms, chub, fufu, watermelon, winter melon, rock melon, coffee jelly, cacao, carrots, blueberries, black tea, dumplings, carrot cake, beetroot, purple cabbage, corn, celery, edamame, red beans, black beans, green beans, kidney beans, cashews, peanuts, pecans, sunflower seeds, walnuts, chickpeas, almonds, daikon, MSG, tamales, anchovies, tabbouleh, lions mane mushroom, chicken of the woods, kelp, octopus, durian, kimchi, crème fraîche, popcorn, cotton candy, everything bagel seasoning, capers, pears, marinara sauce, bittercress, butter cream, every single iteration of galarian curry, sushi, sashimi, kale and a very very specific ramen bowl (without the actual bowl) from a very particular shop located in Iwatodai.

And the top and bottom buns are somehow made from 50 different kinds of bread in a checker box pattern.

What the actual fuck.

It has whipped cream on it. Disgusting.

THAT'S WHY ITS DISGUSTING????

No it's just the first thing I saw that grossed me out and you know I hate whipped cream

#pokeblogging #rotomblr

[voidandradiance]

mianite cast as my really bad breakfast decisions before work:

tom: rubbing a stick of butter directly onto an unevenly burnt bagel

tucker: three spoonfuls of nutella and coffee with whipped cream

jordan: black coffee and an expired poptart found in the back of the silverware drawer

sonja: soft flour tortilla with peanut butter and blueberries

wag: stale cinnamon bread and raspberry jam

andor: standing in front of the open fridge at six in the morning eating deviled eggs out of the pan

martha: making whipped coffee and then accidentally snorting it

capsize: boiled caffeine juice and a tiny bag of veggie straws

mianite: honey nut cheerios directly in coffee (with excessive amounts of creamer)

ianite: blackberry jam with a spoon and room temperature coffee

dianite: two garlic breadsticks and half a can of monster

#mianite #is this a years long list? yes #have i gotten better? well... #retirement home posting

[ziodyne-amax]

Pelipper mail! (To kotone)

A sandwich.

It contains ice cream, whipped cream, sponge cake, meat balls, broccoli, pineapple, strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, rice, noodles, mac and cheese, bacon, beef jerky, dried fish, seaweed, one of every Pokemon berry, jam, olive oil, lotus, dragon fruit, ravioli, ramen, tempura, teriyaki chicken, macaroons, escargots, mint, pepper, salt, sugar, croquettes, pickles, apples, avocados, sausages, bell peppers, grapes, pizza, a donut, cheese, more cheese, even more cheese, mushrooms, mustard, olives, a fried egg, a scrambled egg, blueberries, a poached egg, chawanmushi, a red bean bun, mochi, bbq sauce, chicken nuggets, french fries, takoyaki, pancakes, mackerel, salmon, coffee beans, spinach, a tiny bit of corn cream soup, ramensanga, fettucine alfredo, a plain bagel, pretzels, chocolate chip cookies, sweet potato, yam, potato, scallions, scallops, squid, crab stick, fish balls, fish cakes, oyster sauce, silken tofu, barley, cereal, paprika, oysters, red snapper, sea bass, plums, bean sprouts, garlic, string cheese, camembert, swiss cheese, mozzarella, parmesan cheese, yogurt, brinjal, a macdonald’s happy meal (without the toy and the packaging of course), truffles, caviar, tapioca balls, fried chicken, century eggs, cake sprinkles, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white chocolate, milk tea (just a tinge), coffee (also a tinge), pudding, pumpkin, honey, mutton, mashed potatoes, bananas, icelandic fermented shark that they bury in the ground for months, raisins, dried mangoes, a drop of water, jelly, nata de coco, prunes, roasted pork, rosemary, bee pollen, peas, deer meat, rabbit meat, fish maw, ham, turkey, m&ms, chub, fufu, watermelon, winter melon, rock melon, coffee jelly, cacao, carrots, blueberries, black tea, dumplings, carrot cake, beetroot, purple cabbage, corn, celery, edamame, red beans, black beans, green beans, kidney beans, cashews, peanuts, pecans, sunflower seeds, walnuts, chickpeas, almonds, daikon, MSG, tamales, anchovies, tabbouleh, lions mane mushroom, chicken of the woods, kelp, octopus, durian, kimchi, crème fraîche, popcorn, cotton candy, everything bagel seasoning, capers, pears, marinara sauce, bittercress, butter cream, every single iteration of galarian curry, sushi, sashimi, kale and a very very specific ramen bowl (without the actual bowl) from a very particular shop located in Iwatodai.

And the top and bottom buns are somehow made from 50 different kinds of bread in a checker box pattern.

I’m. I’m not even sure how you managed to fit all this. This is beautiful in its monstrosity…

#pokeblogging #rotomblr #burning dread: kotone

[salithemage]

#polls #tried to throw some less common pairings in there