#i remember all of the passive aggressive digs they made at me and other people outside of their clique | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

femmefatalevibe · 11 months

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hello! I love your blog and read your posts religiously. Your mature, compassionate and rational responses are always very encouraging and uplifting, and I wonder if you have any older sister advice, to a problem I face too often for my liking.

I really hate how many unwarranted, negative or passive-aggressive comments or digs I keep receiving from many of my coursemates; I routinely hear stuff like “your hair is soo fried”, “i didn’t know you were smart”, or “you’re rich and out of touch”, and it’s quite hurtful and totally untrue. I’m a very social person, and I take care of my appearance, so people like to stereotype me as pretty with no brains, even if i’m one of the best students in our course. I’m also as middle class as it gets, so pegging me as a delusional rich kid because I own a few nice things, is a big generalization. While I understand that a pretty girl who doesn’t speak poorly of herself might attract some attention, I always strive to be kind and uplifting, especially to the girls in my course. So to receive most of the mean comments from them, when we have no beef going on, is upsetting. I take pride in my academic achievements and the work I put in myself, so petty remarks don’t destroy my confidence, but it’s definitely painful! I talked about it with my therapist, and she suggested that it likely has more to do with them than it does with me; something along the lines of jealousy, or misplaced projection.

I also recently moved from another country, and have difficulty making friends, as the people here are typically northern, and very closed off and introverted (compared to loud and colorful Italians). So while in regular conditions I’d brush this off, now it just contributes to the overall feeling of rejection.

If you have made it this far, and have any advice on how to deal with unnecessarily mean behavior, without losing your spark, I’d greatly appreciate it! Thank you, and have a great day!! 🩷

Hi love! Thank you for your kind words and support. Means so much to me that this blog is a great resource for you <3

It sounds like you're doing great during your schooling years! Moving to a new country and switching schools (especially when you know no one) are difficult transitions. You seem to have a lot of resilience and a great work ethic & self-esteem. I agree with your therapist on this one – it's a them problem, not a you problem. Teenage girls can be cruel because we're all insecure and unsure about our decisions/how they will affect our life trajectories on some level (source: a former teenage girl).

Always remember: Other people's projections are a reflection of their personal circumstances combined with a lack of self-awareness and introspection.

The best approach to this situation, in my opinion, is to focus on your goals, how to make yourself feel happy & content with yourself (working towards your academic goals, indulging in your hobbies, prioritizing your health, self-care, etc.), and finding activities/clubs/interest groups where you can meet like-minded people. The more you like yourself, the more others will respect you, which either leaves you comfortable with yourself or comfortable with yourself alongside supporters of your success.

With that being said, learn their social norms, and study how they interact/their communication style. Mastering the art of communicating your uniqueness in a way that's culturally palatable can make a world of difference when it comes to integrating socially in a new community or country.

Focus on the aspects of your life that are in your control. Learn to let the rest go. A support system, especially during your school years, can come in many forms – from mentors, online social support, and activities outside of your academic chambers.

Hope this helps xx

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valyalyon · 26 days

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July 2026 - March 2027

July scene includes a short description of sex, August scene includes some vomiting, December scene is cute, March scene is SAD :) Have FUN READING EVERYONE <3 Previous Post | Next Post DIE MASTER LIST OR #LYONDIE DIVIDERS

July 15, 2026

Raphael came home from work that night in a state. He walked in heated and found me feeding the boys dinner...

CW: Argument, descriptions of vomiting, vague descriptions of sex, dub con, explicit language. MDNI. 1.7K words.

He stopped for a second.

I was breastfeeding Leon, and overseeing a nearly 3 year old Theo as he ate the pasta I had made him. His eyes lit up whenever Raphael came in, and he waved at him, “hi, dad.”

Theo, the ever perceptive boy he was, seemed to notice something up with Raphael, and scrunched up his face, “you okay?”

Raphael had already fixed his face and much of his demeanor to present himself to the boys, his face was charming and sweet as he came to greet Theo, “yeah, bud. How are you? Did mama make you pasta?”

Theo nodded his head and smiled at Raphael, and then showed him that he could eat by himself, messing his face up in the process.

It didn’t matter, his mother would clean his cheek immediately without letting him know that he had stained himself. Little Theo didn’t even notice his mother wiping off the pasta sauce from his cheek, he just smiled up at Raphael.

Oh, yeah, I’m his mom. He’s cute. I love him. In the early stages of raising babies I felt very disassociated from everything.

I was an amazing mother according to everyone, and my sons were happy as can be, but I noticed the difference. Nearly dying with Leon shook me to my core and I heavily disassociated after the fact.

Sometimes it was hard not to see the world from the third person perspective. I was floating above, just watching it all happen to me.

…

We put the babies to bed…

The time dissolved…

Bed, again… Raphael says, “here… Open…”

I did, I always did, but I was well aware that this was the time.

He spread my legs and ate me out as I moaned helplessly.

Holding me by the ankles, he begins to fuck me. It feels amazing, each thrust goes in so deep.

I feel my head scrambling from the pleasure. I can never think when it comes to sex with Raphael. It was so mindlessly enthralling.

“I’m going to,” his voice came in through the fog.

“Deep,” I heard myself reply.

I held onto him, digging my nails into his back as he came into me. He pushed his dick as deep as it could go, sending the semen directly at my cervix.

I moaned and twitched, “Raphael…”

“I’m going to keep cumming in you every day this week,” he told me, “I checked your ovulation tracker.”

“As if I didn’t tell you about this in April,” I replied passive aggressively.

“Guess you need another pump of cum.”

August 8, 2026.

To celebrate my 26th birthday, Raphael invited over our family and friends for a party. During this party, they surprised me with an official celebration of Theo’s 3rd birthday and Leon’s 1st birthday.

I remember feeling overwhelmed much of the day. Everyone was there and everyone was being loud and some people couldn’t help but argue…

I watched as Raphael and Julius got in a heated back and forth across the dining room table. They exhausted me. They couldn’t help it, if they were around one another and me they had to argue at some point.

Today’s reason was: Julius and I greeted each other with a hug, during a long series of introductory hugs mandated by Raphael and I’s common Latin culture.

In between everyone in our families talking over one another, I heard Theo speak up, “mama.”

“Yes, hon?” I turned my attention to him.

The table quieted down a little, but Raphael and Julius were still staring daggers into one another, as Theo continued to speak, “I like this party much. Thank you.”

“Of course, Theo,” I told him with a smile.

“But, I’m tired, Leon tired,” Theo explained, pointing at his brother who was resting in my arms.

“I know, my sweet boy, mommy’s sorry. Come on,” I stood up slowly from the chair, holding Leon to my chest and coming to get Theo off his chair.

Raphael started to talk to his family and distracted them as I went away to put the boys to bed.

After Theo brushed his little teeth, I tucked him in, and put Leon in his crib after. Good night kisses galore, “I love you mama” a million times from the sweetest boys.

I went to the master bathroom, and vomited into the toilet. My eyes were full of tears and my chest hurt. I started to whimper a little, and wondered if I had lost track of the time.

Disassociating was so rough.

Raphael opened the bathroom door and looked at me carefully, “is that what happens when you hug Julius?”

I wanted to scream at him so badly. He drove me insane some nights, and after parties — fuck, he just knew how to get under my skin.

I threw up again just as he came in, and he came up behind me, grabbing my hair out of my face for me.

Raphael didn’t say a word for a minute or two after I had finished puking, when he finally spoke he sighed, “I’m sorry for the argument… I know you’ve been telling me to work on it.”

“The boys look up to you, stop showing them that negative competition between men is normal,” I responded, my eyebrows furrowing.

Shuffling off the floor, I opened the sink cabinet and pulled out one of the pregnancy tests. I flushed the toilet and Raphael was rubbing his arms, watching me.

I sighed and hovered over the test to pee on it.

“How long does that take?” He asked suddenly, but his voice was more nervous than anything else.

“Just two minutes,” I responded, getting off the toilet and setting the test down on the counter.

Kneeling back down, I returned to vomiting while Raphael held my hair back.

December 24, 2026.

We met our closest family and friends out for a day at the park. It was still relatively nice weather that winter, and I was starting to show much more being in my 26th week.

I sat beside Raphael on picnic blankets we’d set up. Theo and Leon were playing with Anthony and their other cousins. It was nice to see everybody happy.

“Dolores and I are happy to have you all here, this is the park we got married at years ago, and I am lucky enough to see Dolores carrying our third child,” Raphael announced in a lull of conversation.

A gift box was brought to us by one of my best friends, Natalie, and I kissed all over her in thanks, before sitting back down beside Raphael with the box.

We opened it in front of everyone and pulled out a soft pink onesie that said “Princess” and everyone around us cheered. Congratulating Raphael and I at every opportunity.

I was happy to be surrounded by family but I wanted private pregnancies and I hated the attention of these gender reveals. It was just overwhelming.

“Our Princess is due April 5, 2027,” I announced to everyone.

March 27, 2027.

Raphael scheduled a maternity shoot during my 39th week just as he had done with Leon. I was happy to have these photoshoots, they were beautiful memories of growing my children.

I wore gold for this photoshoot and was bare foot walking through the grass, posing for the photos. As soon as my individual photos had been taken, the photographer got Raphael to join me with the boys.

Theo, Leon and Raphael were all matching, wearing light trousers and white button down shirts.

Leon was so playful and excited to take pictures, reaching for me the moment Raphael came to my side. I took Leon in my arms happily, and nuzzled his nose with mine.

He was laughing as I did it, and he squeezed my cheeks with his little hands. He’d be two years old in August, and Theo would be four. They were growing so fast, my heart couldn’t handle it.

We posed for our last pictures as a family of four, and the boys were so good through all of it.

I wanted to break down though. The time was escaping me, I just wanted to be able to love all my children, and be there with them for their formative moments, but any day now, our daughter would be there with us.

I was worried about my labor, I was worried after a frankly tiresome pregnancy. I was constantly drained, I was constantly in physical pain, and even the photoshoot was causing a strain on me.

I had such an easy pregnancy with Leon except for cravings, but ended up nearly dying in labor with him. Prior to that though, I had an easy pregnancy and a normal labor with Theo.

There, I stand taking pictures for family albums but this pregnancy has been emotional and physical hell on me — and I don’t know if I will make it out alive from this labor.

So will I ever see those family albums?

At least I knew Raphael would still be around for them but…

Fuck, I don’t know if this makes sense…

I can’t die.

I don’t want to lose my daughter, but I don’t want my sons to lose me.

I don’t doubt that Raphael can love the children if left to care for them all. I don’t doubt he’d do his best.

But, why? Why do they have to lose me?

I have carried these babies within myself since my mother was in utero, they are immediately placed on my warm chest to calm down after birth, and every time, their screaming lulls and their sweet faces rest.

Does that make more sense? Every child I have ever had, has screamed in the arms of their fathers and calmed laying against my chest.

For months, my sons were distant from their fathers, and it wasn’t until they were nearly a year old that each one started showing any interest or friendship with their dad.

If I’m not there, who will calm her?

If I’m not there, who breastfeeds her?

If I’m not there, who will replace me and will they ever be enough for my daughter to feel okay?

For days, I would grapple with this…

Until…

April 3, 2027.

#dub con #jealousy #dark romance #dead dove do not eat #possessive love #lyondie #bluestlyon #first person #writeblr #booklr #original story #creative writing

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ask-the-bone-boys · 2 years

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Fluff stared through the clear door to the balcony. Russ was facing the other way. If he just turned around and left now, the other might not know he ever showed up in the first place.

Yet, feeling Retro’s gaze on his back, he slid the door open and stepped out to his certain doom.

The balcony was small. Quite uncomfortably so. Russ was stood off to the side, making it clear that he had no concerns about the only safe way back inside currently being blocked. He hadn’t even moved since Fluff stepped out, leading part of him to hope he might not notice at all.

“I HATE WHEN THE WEATHER’S LIKE THIS,” Russ sighed, crushing all of his hopes and dreams in one fell swoop, “IT REALLY BRINGS THE MOOD DOWN, DOESN’T IT?”

Fluff had to take a moment to remember what that word meant. He hadn’t really had to think about the concept of weather at all until he dropped in here a week ago, and it still hardly made sense. Even so, he took a moment to try and figure out what the other meant.

The sky was dark, which was apparently unusual at noon. The sun was covered by thick, heavy-looking clouds that meant it would rain later. It was cool and humid, with a little breeze that made the fluff on his hood get in his face just a bit more.

Honestly, it was kinda nice.

“...Yeah,” Fluff muttered. Agreeing with this guy was probably the best thing to do right now.

“WELL!” Russ suddenly turned on his heel, leaning back on the railing behind him. “HOW HAVE YOU BEEN THIS PAST WEEK? HAVE YOU BEEN ENJOYING THE SURFACE?”

“I-I’ve been, uh, fine,” Fluff stammered. What did that have to do with anything? Why was he trying to be so casual, was he planning something?

“DID YOU DO SOMETHING FUN YESTERDAY?” Russ grinned at him with some kind of glint in his eye. “TO BE HONEST, YOU SORT OF LOOK LIKE YOU’VE JUST WOKEN UP FROM A COMA YOURSELF!”

Passive aggression. That had to be passive aggressive, right? Some kind of dig at him for causing all the yelling, face-dripping, coma-inducing bullshit in the first place. Russ was still pissed off, he couldn’t not be.

He’d invited Fluff here to talk, anyone with a working head knew that meant something else entirely, and yet here he was anyway, like an idiot. Of course Russ would want to talk on the balcony of all places, where the only quick escape was either back through the door, or down however many floors they were off the ground.

Russ was staring at him now. He leaned up against the sliding door, wondering if he could grab the handle without being too obvious. Retro wasn’t far away, but if he called for his help he might just turn his “caretaker” act up to 11, and that had grown uncomfortable enough already.

Russ was still staring, and then he sighed, looking off to the side with a strange expression. He wanted something. Right, he’d asked Fluff a question, but it had probably already been too long since then to try and answer it now. He couldn’t really remember what it was, anyway. He had to do something, though. What would be the right thing? Play along and get lead into some trap? Beg for mercy? Apologize?

Russ seemed to come to some decision. Fluff couldn’t spend any more time debating what to do, he had to do it now.

“I–”

“I OWE YOU AN APOLOGY.”

…Huh?

“I SHOULDN’T HAVE YELLED AT YOU LIKE THAT. I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT CAME OVER ME! I KNOW BETTER THAN TO TAKE OUT MY EMOTIONS ON OTHER PEOPLE, BUT… I STILL DID IT. THERE’S NO EXCUSE.”

Was this real?

“I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW I DON’T BLAME YOU AT ALL FOR WHAT HAPPENED. YOU COULDN’T HAVE PREDICTED ANY OF THIS, AND THE LAST THING I WOULD EVER WANT IS FOR SOMEONE TO BE AFRAID OF ME.”

This… no, this couldn’t actually be happening, right? It was just some joke?

“SO… FLUFF, RIGHT?” He paused, and it took Fluff a good few seconds to give a bewildered nod. “FLUFF, I’M VERY SORRY FOR THE WAY I TREATED YOU. I HOPE YOU CAN FORGIVE ME, AND… AH, WAIT, WERE YOU ABOUT TO SAY SOMETHING?”

“Nope!” Fluff said, and his voice most certainly did not crack, “N-nothin’ at all. But it’s, uh, fine. No big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

“WELL… ALRIGHT, IF YOU’RE SURE.” He turned back towards the city, finally giving Fluff a chance to breathe as he tried to figure out what the hell just happened. That was it? No traps, no mind games, no broken bones, just an apology? “NOW, I SUPPOSE IT’S TIME WE DISCUSS WHERE TO GO FROM HERE.”

Oh. Well, there it was. He felt that familiar feeling in his gut come back full force after easing up a little for what seemed like the first time that week.

“Where to go…?”

“THERE ARE ONLY TWO CHOICES, REALLY. I WISH THERE WERE MORE, BUT…” Russ trailed off, frowning at the clouds as they gave a quiet rumble. It wasn’t raining yet, Retro said it wouldn’t for a good few hours yet, but it sure seemed like it wanted to. “YOU COULD EITHER STAY HERE, ON THE SURFACE, WITH THE FRIENDS YOU’VE MADE IN THE PAST WEEK, OR… COME ALONG WITH US, THROUGH THE MULTIVERSE, FOR A CHANCE TO GET BACK HOME.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. A part of him knew he’d have to make that choice at some point, and yet he still wasn’t any more ready for it than he was a week ago.

The surface certainly wasn’t too bad of an option. He could probably get used to this “weather” thing after a little while longer, especially when the alternative was some guys who probably didn’t like him all that much.

And yet, Retro and Undyne… He’d gotten punched once, and it was like they thought he needed every ounce of support they could offer. Having a place to crash for a while was nice, and the free food would never be a complaint of his, but the constant checking in, trying to include him in every little thing, and the compliments… It all felt so fake. It made him feel sick.

At least he knew Stretch and Edge didn’t want him there. Edge wanted him dead and it was pretty obvious that the only reason Stretch talked to him at all was because he would’ve lost his mind holed up alone in that hotel room otherwise. Maybe it wasn’t particularly nice, but at least it was honest. He wouldn’t be too shocked if they dumped him off somewhere else, and something about that was just a bit more appealing than waiting for Retro to get sick of him one day.

“...I UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS A DIFFICULT CHOICE TO MAKE,” Russ said, interrupting his thoughts. “IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO TAKE SOME TIME TO THINK–”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

“I– WAIT, REALLY?? ARE YOU SURE??? YOU DON’T WANT TO THINK ON IT A TAD????” Russ’s confusion was clear on his face as he quickly turned back around to face Fluff, who was starting to really wonder why he’d been so damn anxious about talking to this guy. “NOT THAT I DON’T WANT YOU AROUND!! IT’S JUST, THIS IS!! A VERY BIG DECISION!!! THAT COULD STRONGLY IMPACT THE NEXT SEVERAL MONTHS OF YOUR LIFE??? MAYBE TAKE A LITTLE WHILE TO MULL IT OVER????”

“Eh, I’m good,” Fluff shrugged, fighting to keep his expression neutral as Russ looked more and more like a cartoon. “I’m getting kinda bored of this place, anyway.”

“W…WELL! OKAY! THAT… TAKES CARE OF THAT, THEN!!” He scratched the back of his neck, laughing a little. “I WAS HONESTLY EXPECTING… WELL, IT DOESN’T MATTER. DO YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT ALL THIS, THEN?”

“A request, actually, if you don’t mind?” Fluff asked, feeling a bit more bold now that he was pretty sure he wasn’t about to die. “Edge kinda socked me in the face the other day. Do you think you could, I dunno… Make sure he doesn’t do that?”

Russ froze for a second, like he was processing the question, and then he let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nasal bone as he gently shook his head.

“HE DID NOT TELL ME THAT HE DID THAT,” He grumbled. “YES, I PROMISE I WON’T LET HIM HURT YOU AGAIN. I NEED TO TALK TO HIM AFTER YOU, ANYWAY.”

“Thanks.”

There was a pause after that, like neither of them knew quite where to go from here, but when Fluff was just about to head back inside, Russ spoke up one last time.

“EDGE CAN BE… PROTECTIVE, SOMETIMES,” he explained. “IT’S HOW HE SHOWS HE CARES, BUT HE’S QUITE STUBBORN. HE USED TO HATE ME TOO, YOU KNOW? IT TOOK HIM A WHILE TO COME AROUND.”

Fluff nodded along, as if that was at all possible to imagine after seeing the mess the guy had turned into over the past week.

“MY POINT IS… I’M SORRY THAT YOU TWO GOT OFF ON THE WRONG FOOT. AND IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU’LL NEVER BE SOMEONE HE CARES ABOUT AS WELL!��

He raised both of his hands for a double-thumbs-up and gave Fluff a beaming smile.

“HE’LL BE PUNCHING PEOPLE FOR YOU SOON ENOUGH, JUST YOU WAIT!!”

#fic update #quite the mishap #bone boys #lmao i forgot i started drafting this #anyway Who Could Have Predicted This.......................#i gotta say tho i am lowkey proud of the art i did for this one. its simple but i like :>

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etherealsign282 · 8 months

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21) more than what I said: look what I had to do. I had to send you a list of what you did wrong because you couldn't be bothered to face yourself and dig for the proof yourself, couldn't face yourself long enough ever to remember what you did, you hired me like a freelancing intern to do all the dirty work and go through all my pain, reopen wounds, and feebly explain to someone who badly reacted any other time to my voice, bc you couldn't be bothered to figure it out yourself.

You pinned all emotional responsibilities on me, I had to treat you like a toddler who can't communicate for herself or do anything for herself but forcing her to do these things would make her tantrum, like putting clothes on a baby that wants to run naked outside.

You made me responsible for who you are so of course I have deep, deep ingrained trauma over making sure I tell you, and others, in depth what they did wrong bc if I can't overexplain it so they can fix themselves then it's my fault for letting them run rampant and be abusive and disgusting, right? Well it's not my fucking responsibility and it never was.

Whatever you saw me do that made you think it was okay to be two faced, abusive, rxpey, etc, it wasn't. You're a fucking adult, you were a fucking adult. You needed to ACT LIKE ONE. Not go around begging people to process their trauma and give you a goddamn list just so you can pretend you get it while going around calling yourself a people pleaser. THAT is what broke me. That is what keeps me here.

Fucking demanding that I help you with your incompetence and the entire time it was you just playing me one last time so you could find more loopholes with my trauma to justify to yourself why you could be the meannest, most coldhearted bitch ever and still be a "people pleaser" because you tolerate your dad for a place to sleep and apologize without meaning it. Fuck you. D13.

22) verbal abuse. Enough said. Also being passive aggressive as hell and then blaming them for not understanding your problem. Fuck you.

23) you just loved to play DARVO lmao. You loved pushing me around and being nasty as fuck to me, hurting my feelings, telling me my effort isn't good enough, acting like my meltdowns are the same as your stonewalling, etc.

But when I pushed back and told you all this shit about how you couldnt fucking go around doing what you wanted and ignoring my pleas for effort bc "uwu astrology" and be passive aggressive toward me or straight up hostile toward me, you just act like I'm being mean about your "sensitivity" LMAO. Sorry you were MAD and called out for being MAD but. Idk. D13 mad about it. 🤷 or the other times after we fought and you called me with a shaky, sad, uwu voice, breaking character when I didn't give a shit, shut up lmao.

24) I just. I just wanted to clarify and say forget that my "only issue was-" bc I realize two years later that I have a lot more issues than that. ORIGINALLY I thought I cared only about how you wouldn't tell me shit but the more I pulled away the more I realized there was a lot of issues that stemmed just from your disrespect and lack of humanity, and that I had a lot of issues with your abusive behavior from the beginning that never got solved because you didn't think they needed to be fixed.

However, I fixed things, some of which were never broken until you touched them with your disgusting hands, as much as I could despite the resentment I held inside me from not being heard and yet still, you found more things to be mad about. And then decided you were being framed because you disrespected and abused me into silence, noticed I was in pain and suffering, while YOU still had ongoing, pathetic issues with me. That somehow *we* were forcing you to hate everything that we were from our depression to the way we laughed, that we WANTED to hide our problems so you wouldn't abuse and devalue us, that we WANTED you to start the hard conversations every time when you did it in the most dramatic, selfish, aggressive, hostile, and abusive way possible. Sorry, but you appointed yourself the shit starter, and it didn't make you look as much like a victim as you wanted so you tried to pull more tricks out of your ass. But the thing is, if you didn't want to be the bad guy, you shouldn't have been the bad guy.

25) idk, just imagine basing your whole personality around not being able to be compassionate, loving, good. Not being able to be there for people because you're so sucked in your own self deprecation. Not being able to work on yourself, change, be better, grow, etc. Doing all these disappointing things from not listening to me on purpose/dismissing me, to devaluing me, to shitting on my interests, to competing every second of the day, to not letting me have a breath, to forcing me to treat you like a child, and then... not letting me have a single day where I'm grumpy.

Where I don't want to listen to the same fucking whiny, self indulgent story 5+ times in a row. Where I don't want to turn my head every two seconds to watch you. Where I'm emotionally exhausted and have severe compassion fatigue and I can't keep up the "damn I'm sorry you didn't get to be a k1ller in high school bc you were ignored" facade.

Like imagine being so apathetic and disconnected from reality that you genuinely think you can go make up excuses to be ABUSIVE and I can't have one day where I'm a little annoying or distant without you devaluing me and shitting on me and saying your favorite is J and you don't want to be with me. Like imagine, i get a text from someone about you saying you were mad bc I didn't listen to the story you said 5 times before, bc of what happened to me at that time.

#abusers deserve to die #abusers should die #ex abuser chronicles

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resmarted · 10 months

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everyone has heard at least one story about me. there is always some rumor and some curiosity to quench, sometimes totally understandable and other times deranged but plausible. i am no stranger to controversy or being the topic of conversation amongst people i've never met or barely spoken to, it has been this way my entire life. there are a lot of set of eyes on me at any given time and lately it feels more than ever before. i come from a world where spiritual warfare is the norm and am a frequent target in bizarre social games where no one ever really wins. people tend to start a lot of shit but they never expect i'll be the one to end it. i don't want to either, i don't ask for this psychotic dumpster fire that shows up on my doorstep every so often.

it is very tiresome letting my guard down only to be reminded why it is safer to be an island, my body is exhausted and my mind is worn down from the constant pressure to keep only the right people and things on it, to be hyper-selective of who i let in lest i be the rabbit befriending the hunter. i am tired of people talking to me like i haven't been on this earth from the day it was conceived. i am the wind and the rain and the moon and the trees. i don't seek the respect of those that can't seem to understand this, and while the audacity is baffling, it is nothing i am not used to. people hate what they don't understand. they make snide remarks and passive aggressive digs but no courage to admit to the truth when confronted. it's so boring and predictable and i don't know why i expect a little more creativity or even integrity at this point. it's so strange how vindictive and weird people are over the least important things imaginable. it's difficult to believe when that's not actually what's happening at this point, a life of gaslighting has taught me to be weary of anyone who feigns a smile with a knife in their hand. it's actually more alarming when people are innocent, so i find the same general apprehension toward me understandable. i am used to people circling around me like wolves sniffing me out and attempting to scare me with snarls and growling, waiting for any reason to attack and then still pouncing when i am perfectly still. we all fall prey to pack mentality at times.

i have lived a hundred lives in this body alone. i have tried to kill myself even more times than this and managed to wake up on the same godforsaken earth for each and every one of them. i took a lifetime of being a human experiment and turned it into something the average person couldn't conceive of and it's getting very reductive the way people treat this as a walk in the park or something unworthy of acknowledgment. i am so sick of these precious little egos and paper thin skin from people whose tongues are made of fire they wield like spiteful weapons. the only way to escape this, this endless cycle of the same bullshit on repeat happening on a regular basis, is to disassociate into the watery visions of your eyes laying thick onto mine with silk ribbons streaming from across the other end of the galaxy. the karmic balances of the universe settle the score in the background while i float into your orbit and we are realigned in a cosmic bliss, a defiant utopia beating out all odds. i think about your face and suddenly can't remember my enemies, and perhaps that was the problem all along, how i got bombed by snipers under a lovesick spell too busy drowning in your stare to feel the shrapnel tearing my flesh or smell the gun powder clouding all around me. i miss the time when i couldn't see anything but you. everything hurt less even when it was meant to kill me.

#long reads

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diavolosthots · 3 years

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Hey dear! I hope that you have a good time! I want to make a request, but please delete it if you don't feel like doing it.

I saved that request in the notes and been waiting for you to open them 😊

For request

First fight with brother (any of your choice) and one of them (I mean MC or that brother) thinks that it's end of relationship (because never had anything serious), but they reconciled in the end. I want some heavy angst with happy ending. MC can be GN if that is OK.

If you don't mind you can do for Mammon, but feel free to choose another one if you don't feel like write for him. Or if that would be better to write as headcanons for all the brothers. That's up to you!

I haven't been doing requests for ages. Please don't hate me if there is something wrong! I've read the rules, and I hope I haven't missed anything.

Anyway, sorry for long ask. And thank you for your writings!

(I forgot to look if you did anything similar, and remembered it at the end of writing that ask. Sorry if you already did something like that!)

Hey babes ❤ I did end up doing HCs for all of them because I thought it would be cooler (or more like I know someone is gonna request separate fics for all of them if I dont and I'm saving myself that trouble lol) I still hope you like it ! ❤ also this got SUPER LONG so its under a cut

Warning: angst -> happy ending-ish

THE BROTHERS in a fight with MC and thinking that they’re over (yikes)

Lucifer:

Everyone always says Lucifer is quick to lose his cool but he’s honestly been nothing but patient with you. He may have hinted at several things he doesn’t condone and he definitely has that ‘look’, you know the disappointed dad look, but he has held back a lot so as to not ruin the beautiful relationship you have with him. Everyone snaps, though, and when he finally did, it was ugly. He did NOT call you names, but oh he didn’t. He went straight for your feelings and pointed out every mistake you ever made for as long as he’s known you. Ouch. In his defense, you weren’t nice either. The argument ended nasty and ‘I hate you’s!’ were definitely thrown around, but none of them were meant, right? Goodness, he doesn’t know. After you left, he threw himself on his bed, literally, and just stared at the ceiling. His anger slowly fled away and he began to feel… guilty. Not necessarily because of the argument itself, but because he delivered some low blows and he knows that. Are you over? Done with him? You haven’t texted or called or talked… you’ve been actively avoiding him and he doesn’t like that, but his pride is such an issue, goodness. He can’t straight up apologize, that dickhead, but he’s sending you flowers and standing in front of your door with a sad face that says it all.

“Forgive me? I made reservations at your favorite’s? We can talk over a nice dinner?”

Mammon:

Mammon is known to get mildly agitated over the silliest things, let’s be real. He’s also quick to revert to the “are you dumb?!” argument, which is never effective. But he loves you and he would do anything for you so even if you do do something that he deems ‘dumb’, he usually bites his tongue. Doesn’t mean that doesn’t get on his nerves, though, and he definitely has a short temper, although people tend to overlook that. You just managed to push his buttons today and he used the “are ya stupid?!” argument, to which you obviously defended yourself, and rightfully so. This ended in a massive screaming match and him saying “Then leave! Ain’t nobody keepin’ ya with me!” He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth and you could see his eyes grow wide in shock at his own words, but that didn’t mean you stayed. “MC!” he tried running after you immediately but you were faster and honestly, who can blame you? He fucked up, and he knows it, and he feels terrible about it. Honestly, he’s crying just at the mere thought of you taking his words seriously and he can’t… he can’t bear to lose you, you know? What’s he gonna do? You’re the light of his life, as pathetic as that may sound to some…. So he won’t let you run away. Homie will hunt you down and beg for forgiveness.

“Please, MC! Forgive me! I’m dumb, not you!!! Don’t leave me…” Don’t leave him. He will continue crying.

Leviathan:

His constant need to put himself down is frankly, quite annoying. To you anyway. But you put up with it and just reassure him that, at least to you, he’s the most amazing demon that ever existed. It’s just facts. But a person only has so much patience, right? You can’t always spend your days trying to lift him up when all he does is dig himself a bigger hole. Who has the emotional time for that? You sure don’t. “Oh my God, Levi! Shut up! I can’t take it anymore!” Followed by “See! You’re just like everyone else! Leaving me!” and then you slamming the door to his room shut. It’s frustrating and understandably so. It makes you feel awful that you can’t even make your own boyfriend feel good about himself and get at least a little bit of self confidence and it’s so, so, so very draining to have to constantly listen to that. At this point, it’s affecting your own mental health and you just… you just can’t…. But Levi can’t lose you because he knows you’re right. He has to work on himself if he wants to keep someone as amazing as you with him and that’s why he’s crawling back to you now.

“Look I… I know you’re right… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll … I’ll try. For you.”

Satan:

For being the Avatar of Wrath, you always admired Satan for his ability to keep cool. He prefers the relaxed and easy going life much more than the type of life people expect him to live, and you respect that. That doesn’t mean his constant need to one up Lucifer, through whatever means necessary, didn’t bother the hell out of you, though. You tried talking to him about it once or twice in a calm manner, but you always got the same answer “Pfft.. it’s Lucifer. Who cares?” And it never sat right with you. Just today he decided to pull a prank on the eldest and you had enough, standing in front of Lucifer and letting the bucket of cursed green slime land on you instead, to everyone’s shock. “What are you doing?!” Now that you’re thoroughly green from head to toe, you were also beyond pissed. “What am I doing?! What are YOU doing?!” But Satan matched your anger tenfold, accusing you of favoring Lucifer over him and oh! “You probably got an affair with him, too!” Which was a stupid thing on his part, but it looked like it the way you defended him. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion you felt running through you and had it not been for Lucifer, you probably would’ve physically fought Satan for such a dumb accusation. Lucifer took you to get cleaned up and lifted the course, giving you your natural skin and hair color back within a few days and plenty of scrubbing, and Satan felt like shit. You’ve always been there for him and, rationally speaking, he didn’t have a reason to doubt your loyalty to him, but he just can’t help but feel insecure beside Lucifer…. He decides to come apologize anyway, a deep blush on his face and guilt in his eyes

“I’m… sorry for accusing you. It wasn’t my right to speak out of anger and jealousy…”

Asmodeus:

How can anyone fight with the Avatar of Lust? Seriously, the guy is super easy going and he loves pretty much everyone. Not as much as himself, but almost. You on the other hand… you didn’t. Well you didn’t NOT love him or yourself, but you were just… you. You didn’t spend 4+ hours in the bathroom trying to get ready when you knew you were only going to the kitchen down the stairs. Like?? Although you never brought it up to Asmodeus, he constantly bothered you about skincare and what foods to eat and what not to eat, etc… It’s quite annoying, honestly, and at some point you just gave him a passive aggressive “Okay, whatever. Can we move on now?” To which he didn’t take lightly. He was still nice and sweet, trying to convince you that at least one of these things will make your skin glow brighter than a unicorn’s ass but you just had enough. “Can you stop?! You’re indirectly saying I’m ugly without that shit ton of product in my face and a diet that would make me starve before it helped me! If you want a skinny VS angel that barely holds onto their skeleton, get one!” It was more hurt and frustration speaking than anything, but your outburst still shocked him and he was taken aback for a moment. And then you ignored him for a week straight and as someone who thrives off of attention, especially the kind he gets from you, he can’t handle that! So he showed up in your room in sweats and a tshirt and messy hair and no product on his skin.

“You’re right… we’re all naturally beautiful…. Wow that… that really hurts to say MC but can you forgive me?”

Beelzebub:

Oh the sweet, sweet angel. He’s far from innocent and you know that. We all know that. But for this story, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. His reliance on Belphegor is just really… annoying. Belphegor this, Belphegor that. “Belphie used to…” or “Belphie said….” or “one day when Belphie and I….” Like why does everything have to include his twin? It’s so annoying and so rude when your significant other is right here !!! and planning their own future with you, Beel, thanks. It makes you feel less than and like Belphegor will always come before you. It makes you feel like shit, quite frankly, and who is to blame you? “Hey MC did I tell you what Belphie---!” “No! Shut up! I don’t care! It’s always about Belphie! The day you come to me and don’t let that name drip from your tongue is the day Jesus comes back to save me and we both know that will be never! I’m tired of always being stuck with Belphegor! We are not equals!” Granted, you shouldn’t have yelled and Beel was more than confused at your outburst, but you wouldn’t talk to him anymore after that so he left you alone. He thought you may need an hour or two, maybe a day tops, but that day turned into a full week and he even lost his appetite just because he knows you’re angry with him. It’s been a week, does that mean you’re over? His heart aches just at the thought…

“I’m sorry for bringing Belphie up… I don’t want you to feel less than, MC. You mean a lot to me and so does Belphie, but you’re not Belphie and I need to learn that…”

Belphegor:

Honestly it’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his temper at you yet. Well, he partially blames it on his own laziness because if being angry or getting upset didn’t take so much energy out of him, maybe he would’ve snapped by now lol, but he tries really hard not to because he thinks your relationship with him after everything is pretty good, considering yall kiss and snuggle and fuck on a regular basis. But anyway, that’s exactly the issue. Considering everything, you’re still holding *that* against him. It’s never direct either, which makes it worse. It’s always said in a joking manner and something like “haha look it’s just like that one time you killed me” or “Beel’s grabbing that ham like you grabbed my throat” or “I remember seeing jesus for a moment there” and it agitates him. It makes him so angry, and he finally snapped. “I know I fucked up MC! Stop holding it against me! What do you want? A medal of honor? A survivor's certificate? Maybe a pat on the back for developing some sort of Stockholm syndrome that made you come back to your abuser?!” And then he left. And you may have cried both from confusion and your own anger, he isn’t quite sure. It’s just so…. Aggravating. He can’t deal with it. He knows it was a mistake spurted by his own insecurities and survivor’s guilt which ultimately led to his hatred but please, stop holding it against him.. He can’t keep putting up with it from the person he’s grown to love. He’s the one ignoring you and he won’t budge either because he’s a stubborn ass, but maybe if you come up first…

“I’m sorry for yelling at you… I’m just so tired for it being held against me… I love you, and you should know that, and I do feel guilty about what happened.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 3 years

Note

Idk if you do one shots inspired in songs, but if so, Would you mind doing one with a Taylor Swift's song which is called "The 1"? With Mason Mount please

< i love taylor so much and i really hope i didn’t completely butcher this, but thanks for the challenge :) >

MASON MOUNT ONESHOT

the 1

( WARNING: little bit of angst and fluff?, swearing )

word count: 1.8k

Things don’t often go as we expect them to, and it’s often incredibly difficult to replan your life around that massive change and adapt your lifestyle so you can — in reality — live again.

It’s like trying to find your feet when you’re in the air — it feels impossible but you know with time you’ll eventually meet the ground again.

That’s what it felt like when you and Mason broke up four years ago.

You were fresh out of uni and at the time, you really thought he’d be it for you, and honestly, so did he. A break up thrown into the mix of having to navigate adult life just seemed to put a huge stopper on all your plans; the holiday you two had both booked for a weekend away in Ireland, the meals out with friends that you had to cancel, and the house showings you were set to attend.

Looking back on your relationship now, you realise it wouldn’t have been the worst thing to end up with Mason. All the years and effort and time put into loving him were — without a doubt — some of the best years of your life (at that stage in life), and did you regret it?

Not one single bit.

But four years is the perfect amount of time to heal, remove the salt from the wound and finish grieving.

But he was here. In real life.

You’d imagined running into him in the supermarket or on a night out with your friends, but a bus stop?

That one was weird. Mainly because you both hated catching the bus with a burning passion.

But it lead to a catch up over coffee.

It was a quiet place, out of the way of the usual lunchtime hustle and bustle in the city, and for that you were grateful. You could hear your own thoughts.

It was awkward at first, you couldn’t keep your eyes from fixating on his figure, his features, because four years can really change a person. He was much broader, his hair a little shorter, but he was still that same Mason you once loved.

You knew that because the first thing he did when he sat down was offer you that cheeky, charming smile that had you hooked from the second you met.

He’d asked how you were, and you answered honestly: you were living well, your best life, and to the fullest. And you knew and he knew that it wasn’t a lie.

He could tell by the smile on your face and the new, sparkling band on your wedding finger. He half expected that blow to sting a little — that you’d found someone and he hadn’t, but he was never one to be bitter whatsoever, at least, not when it came to you.

Instead, he offered his congratulations and the only inkling of regret he held was not being there when it happened.

I guess you never know, never know,

And if you wanted me, you really should’ve showed,

And if you never bleed, you’re never gonna grow,

And it’s alright now.

There was silence after that.

You had one thing on your mind, and you knew by the way he was looking at you that he was also thinking the same thing.

You took a sip of your coffee.

He mirrored your actions, seemingly startled when you placed your mug onto your saucer, the chink of porcelain against porcelain echoing around the small shop cutting through the previous quietness.

“I think I hated you for a while.” You murmured, and if Mason wasn’t leant over the table slightly, he would’ve missed the statement completely.

He nodded in understanding, his brown eyes shining with the faintest hint of guilt.

“I think I was so frustrated with the idea that we just…didn’t work, and I blamed it on you.” You paused, fingers twisting your rings.

He paused, mulling over his words, “And now? Still hate me now?”

You bit back a small smile and met his eyes, “No…I think it’d take a whole load of bad shit to get me to hate you.”

He smiled.

“That’s good to know.”

“I mean, I think it was a long time coming anyway, that break up.”

“It didn’t feel right for a while.”

“No,” you agreed, “as much as it hurt to admit, I think we just failed…as a couple. There was a point where we were just together for the sake of not giving up on the relationship, but with no real reason to continue.”

But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool,

And if my wishes came true,

It would've been you,

In my defense, I have none,

For never leaving well enough alone,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

He seemed to ponder over your words, and although he never voiced it, he came to the conclusion that you’d just put into words — perfectly — the itch that had been tickling his brain for the past few years.

“Despite that, you can’t deny that we weren’t something…” he started, before breaking off and shaking his head, as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

“We were something special. I think, had things stayed like they were in the beginning, that…you and I…” you waved your hand, tilting your head, and he nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Me too. I think…in another life we could have made each other happy. It would have been fun.”

The words ‘if you would’ve been the one’ echoed in your head, and despite the passive aggressiveness of your conscience, you found yourself holding back a smile.

“Water fights in winter and eggs with ketchup…perfect. I’d never have gotten tired of that.” You mused, and he spluttered slightly on his coffee, laughing along with you in what felt like a decade.

I have this dream you're doing cool shit,

Having adventures on your own,

You meet some woman on the internet and take her home,

We never painted by the numbers, baby,

But we were making it count,

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.

“Then again, who knows? Maybe you’ll fall over in the airport and some lucky person will help you off the floor—”

“You’re about to say something cheesy, aren’t you?” Mason covered his mouth, scrunching his nose in anticipation as you nodded.

“All this nostalgic bullshit has me emotional! I swear, just this once…just this once, and I promise you can laugh about it afterwards.” You swore, holding out your pinkie for confirmation.

He didn’t hesitate, and linked your pinkie.

“You’ll find someone else. It’ll be love at first sight—hey, let me have this moment…maybe love at second sight, knowing you… you’ll go to some really magical place and have the most amount of fun you’re ever gonna have…hikes, skydiving, looking after animals I’m sanctuaries…you’re gonna have the time of your life — like Grey and Swayze.” You sniggered, unable to hold in your laughs at the ridiculous scenarios.

Mason pulled a face, unable to hide a smile.

“Okay, okay. End of story: they’ll be perfect. The Chandler to your Monica or the Robin to your Ted. But, you understand what I’m talking about, right?” You asked, sighing out of frustration.

“You’re saying I’ll find my person.” He concluded, sitting back in his chair.

“Yeah.”

We were something, don't you think so?

Rosé flowing with your chosen family,

And it would've been sweet,

If it could've been me,

In my defense, I have none,

For digging up the grave another time,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

“Like…your grandma and grandad. I want what they have.” Mason smiled.

“They’ll be pleased to hear that,” you said, “I don’t think they’re quite over us yet. You were too…you at family meals. They fell in love with you too.”

This time Mason really laughed. Really laughed. He threw his head back and the people working at the counter turned to look at him, fighting their own smiles at his carefree nature.

What you’d said wasn’t even that funny.

“Too me? Thanks, I think?”

“Oh, that’s definitely a compliment. You’re too damn charming for your own good, it’s a problem. You should come with a warning label on your forehead: EASY TO LOVE.”

“That’ll solve a lot of problems.”

There was silence.

It was relieving to say the least.

“That whole conversation was about four years too late.” You said, pursing your lips.

“Better late than never.” Mason murmured, his eyes trained on you.

The pressure on your shoulders was lifted. All the things that needed to be said were said.

As time passes, the wound heals — sometimes, but in your case, that was true, as hard as it was to come to that conclusion — and it suddenly became easier to recall the loss of what might have been without bringing you back to wishing it would be again.

It was nice.

“Would it be totally inappropriate—”

“Not at all.” You interrupted, shrugging at his raised eyebrows.

“You didn’t know what I was going to say.” He chuckled.

“I’ll have you know that years of knowing you granted me the issue of knowing what you’re going to say,” You said, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“What was I going to say?” He challenged, “If you get it right, I’ll get you tickets to the next game.”

You raised your brows.

“Confident, are we?”

He shrugged, a smug smirk on his lips.

“I don’t think it’s totally inappropriate to be friends.” At your words, he slumped in his chair, hands going to cover his face.

“No.” He groaned, repeating the word like a mantra as you pumped the air with your fist.

“Three tickets to the next game in the bag.” You bragged.

“Honestly.” He whined, peeling his hands away. “Why are you so difficult?”

“You offered the terms.”

“Why am I so dumb?” He rephrased.

“Ah, I'm afraid only you can answer that one.”

“The brain cells I have left don’t have enough energy to come up with an answer to a question as philosophical as that one—yes, it was philosophical to me, okay?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” You promised, putting your hands in the air in surrender.

“Just remember who’s going to give you those tickets, yeah?” He teased, sitting up.

“Abusing your power, nice move.”

“Oh…shut up.”

“Weak.” You coughed, trying to disguise the fact you said anything.

He looked straight at you, highly unimpressed by your tactics.

“Very original.” Was all he said.

“Is it supposed to be this easy?” You blurted out, spitting out the words before you could rethink the consequences of them being thrown into the abyss between you and Mason.

He knitted his brows together in thought.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “but we were friends way before, it’s not hard to fall back into old habits. I think that’s why it’s so easy.”

242 notes · View notes

heauxplesslydevoted · 3 years

Text

Then & Now (Ethan x MC)

Summary: A particularly difficult case forces Ethan to confront a blast from his past

A/N: This popped into my head and I had too much fun writing it. I will loosely incorporate some of the themes from book 3 and make them better, but this is mostly an AU.

A/N 2: Yes I’m writing another multipart fic while actively ignoring my others. The muses spoke and I had no choice in the matter. Enjoy!

~v~

“Would you like some more coffee, Dr. Ramsey?”

Whatever line he was reading in his textbook blurs as does his vision. Ethan looks up at the face of the newest member of the team, a young resident, Isabelle. He takes the cup, not missing the way her eyes light up as he does so. What is it with residents and their incessant need to kiss-ass and be people pleasers?

“Thank you, Dr. Proctor.”

“Of course! I figured we’d need all the caffeine we could get our hands on with this case.”

Ethan doesn’t respond with words, only offering the young woman a hum in acknowledgement. Instead his eyes land on his coworker, Harper Emery. “Harper, has your team been able to come up with anything new?”

“Nothing,” Harper replies with a resigned sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve run as many tests, MRIs and CT scans as I could, and none of them came back with anything conclusive. We’re officially back to square one.”

Ethan hasn’t been this stumped in years. A week ago, a patient came to Edenbrook after waking up without being able to feel anything from the waist down. A young, relatively healthy 25 year old with no extraordinary medical history, no recent reports of any TBI, nothing. He assumed with Harper–one of the nation’s greatest neurosurgeons–on the case, that this would be a simple fix.

As painful as it is to admit, he’s wrong.

They’ve gotten nowhere with the case, they’ve made no progress, and to make matters worse, he has Leland Bloom and the board breathing down his neck because it’s been years since the team has spent more than a week on a case, so a week with no news reflects poorly on them—on him, as the team’s leader specifically.

The last member of the team, Tobias, clears his throat. “Did he ever mention getting into a fight? Maybe he took a hit to the head, and just doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe, but like I said, none of the CT scans or MRIs showed me anything out of the norm,” Harper says. “I can always ask him again.”

“That’d be ideal–”

Ethan’s sentence is cut off as the door to their office is thrown open, and in walks Leland. “Hello, team!”

The most senior members of the team stay silent, but Isabelle gives a slight wave. “Hello, Mr. Bloom.”

“Dr. Proctor,” Leland greets in turn. “Nice to know at least one of you has manners.”

Ethan checks the time on his watch. “What are you doing here, Bloom?”

“Last time I checked, I owned this entire building and I didn’t need to ask your permission to be here.”

“We’re nearing midnight,” Ethan adds. “What are you still doing here, and not at home? I’m sure Mrs. Bloom would enjoy seeing you.”

Leland ignores the mention of his wife Caroline, pretending like she wasn’t mentioned at all. “I just stopped by your patient’s room to see how he was doing. And then I decided to drop by to check in with you guys. Are there any updates on the Miller case?”

“I’m not discussing patient information with you,” Ethan says.

“Well, I am your boss.”

“And until you go to medical school, graduate, become a doctor at this hospital, and join in on this case, I don’t have to tell you anything. You may own this hospital, but I do not have to discuss my patients with you.”

“Okay, so you guys have no new information,” Leland concludes.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, this conversation giving him a headache even though it just started. “We were actually in the middle of a brainstorming session before we were interrupted, so if we could have some privacy again, that would be much appreciated.”

Ethan’s tone causes Leland to drop the veneer of kindness, the smile dropping from his face only for a second before he catches it. He looks away and sniffs haughtily. “Fine. I’ll check in with the patient tomorrow for a status update, since it’s clear I won’t be getting it from my employees. Thankfully, his father and I go way back.”

“I can’t stop the patient from divulging his own information.”

Leland glances around the room one more time, his gaze lingering on Ethan a bit longer than it does on the other occupants. “Goodnight, doctors.”

Once Leland leaves, Harper turns towards Ethan. “You act like it would literally kill you to be nice to him.”

“Be nice for what? Bloom thinks we owe him undying loyalty and infinite ass kissing because he bought the hospital. He’s pulled a lot of nonsense since moving into this position, but he’s not worth breaking any laws over. My patients deserve their privacy.”

“And I agree, but the extra hostility isn’t needed. The last thing we need is World War 3 with you and Bloom tearing down the hospital. Just be nice.”

“Okay, are we getting back to work or calling it a night?”

The rest of the team glances around each other. Pulling an all-nighter with Ethan while he’s in a foul mood sounds like a nightmare.

“We’re calling it a night.”

~v~

Ethan ends up falling asleep in the office, finally dozing off around 5 o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a mountain of books and the harsh light of his computer screen. The sleep is short lived though as the sound of his pager wakes him up.

He jumps up with a start, and checks the time on his watch before checking his pager. He only managed to get two hours of sleep, but he can’t dwell on that. The page is a 911 alert to his patient’s room.

“Shit!”

He takes off to the 4th floor where his patient is housed, thankful that the early morning hour means the hospital is not yet flooded with people.

Isabelle, Harper, and a nurse are already in the room when Ethan finally makes it. “What’s going on?”

“He had a seizure,” Harper explains.

“How long did it last?”

“Around 50 seconds. We administered lorazepam into his IV.”

“Could this be a new symptom?” Valencia asks. “Or something else entirely?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take him down to radiology for another CT scan. Hopefully this next one can actually yield some results.”

Ethan nods. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, Dr. Proctor, add seizures onto the list of symptoms to broaden our search criteria. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ll reconvene when Tobias comes in and once we get the new CT scans back.”

There’s a knock at the door and Ethan bristles when Leland’s loud voice calls out to him. “Dr. Ramsey, can I speak to you out in the hallway?”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t a request, doctor. Hallway, now.”

Ethan shoots Harper a look, and she gives him a quick sympathy smile before he and Leland step out into the hallway.

They move a few feet away from the patient’s door, out of earshot before Leland lays into Ethan. “How in the hell is the patient actually managing to get worse under your care?”

The question actually takes Ethan aback. “You can’t possibly be saying his condition is my fault?”

“I’m saying he’s been here for a week now, and he’s no better off than where he was. You don’t have any information to give him or his family. Do you know how many phone calls my assistant has had to field because they want to get him transferred to a different facility?”

“We are giving him the best care possible, Leland. Just because you and his father belong to the same country club or whatever, does not mean there’ll be some instant diagnosis or treatment that he can buy...or steal. We need to do our due diligence.”

Leland is smart enough to know when a dig is being lobbed in his direction. His eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say, Ethan?”

“Exactly what I just did. Besides, why do you have such a vested interest in my team and what we do? I’m sure you have other businesses and people to micromanage these days.”

“You guys don’t make me any money yet remain my biggest cost. The least you can do is be efficient and answer my questions when I ask.”

“And like I told you last night, I know you own this place. You never let me forget it. But you buying this hospital does not mean I am here at your beck and call, now does it mean I have to be governed under anything that isn’t set forth by the American Medical Association. Now, me team is the best this hospital and this city have to offer, so back up and let us do our jobs.”

“You guys are the best?” Leland chuckles humorlessly. “Act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who can.”

The threat causes Ethan to pause. “What does that mean?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Loud and clear.”

~v~

“You idiot! Why on earth would you get into a fight with Bloom in the middle of a hallway?”

Ethan doesn’t try to school his bored expression as Tobias paces the entire length of the office, huffing and puffing as he does so.

“I didn’t get into a fight with him,” Ethan amends. “It was an exchange of words.”

“A loud exchange of words,” Harper adds. “In front of our patient’s room, might I add.”

“I had plans for this day to be productive, but the minute that man opens his mouth, I just–”

“We get it, you don’t like him,” Tobias interjects.

“Disliking Leland is an understatement.”

Isabelle stays silent, unable to find a good place to cut in, despite having questions. Ethan’s dislike of Leland Bloom is the hospital’s worst kept secret, but the contention has always been passive aggressive at best. And as a second year resident, she doesn’t have any background knowledge on why the relationship is the way that it is.

“I don’t like him either, but you don’t see me needling him in front of the nurse’s station!”

“Sure Leland is...obnoxious at times, but I don’t understand any of it,” Isabelle says, finally speaking up. Ethan looks at her as if he’s just now remembering that she’s been in the room the entire time. “What happened that caused this much animosity?”

Leland’s kidney disease wasn’t a major secret. Most medical personnel that worked at Edenbrook and the larger Boston area remember the huge media blitz, and all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding his hospitalization early last year. And the official story is Leland got a kidney from a family member who wished to keep their identity a secret from the public, and everyone ate it up.

Only a handful of people know the truth. That a few well placed phone calls and dollars exchanged got Leland to the top of the donor list within a day, stealing a second chance from the true person at the top of the list: a 14 year old girl.

“So long as there is breath in my body, Leland Bloom and his ilk will never get an ounce of respect from me, and I’ll just leave it at that,” Ethan says cooly. “And that’s all you need to know, Dr. Proctor.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying man, Bloom is petty,” Tobias adds. “Men like him, who think the rest of us should bow at their feet, don’t take kindly to getting told off, especially in public. Underneath the billions is a tiny ass, fragile ego. Can you just keep a low profile and be quiet for the next day or two, so Bloom doesn’t dismantle this team?”

“I’ll be as cordial as Bloom is,” is what Ethan settles upon. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

The only thing that can rival Ethan’s intelligence is his stubbornness. Tobias knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of Ethan, so he relents. “Okay.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work and stop talking about Bloom?”

His team nods and Ethan sighs in relief.. They still have a chance to turn things around and actually have a good day.

They fall into a productive routine, tossing around different theories, sharing research and narrowing down ideas. Too bad that only lasts for about half an hour before there’s a knock at the office door. A few seconds later, Naveen pokes his head in.

Ethan smiles because part of him was expecting Leland to show up again. “Naveen, this is a nice surprise! Don’t tell me you’re ready to get back in the saddle.”

Naveen laughs good-naturedly at his mentee. “Not quite.”

“Well what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, Ethan,” Naveen says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s not about me, it’s work related. Team related news, that I wanted to tell you personally,” Naveen explains, fully entering the office. “Is there any way I could steal you for a few minutes?”

“If it involves the team, I think we can have the conversation here. Is this about my...spirited discussion with Leland?”

“No, it’s about the case you’re working on.”

“Now I know we don’t usually work on cases for this long, and we’re working on it.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Leland has some concerns about how long it’s taking you guys to treat this patient, and he told me that he wants to outsource some extra help to speed things along.”

“No thank you.”

“He’s already made phone calls. I’m just here to give you a heads up about who he picked.”

“A heads up?” Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. Who on earth could Leland think of reaching out to that Ethan would need a warning about? “Who is he asking for? Mendoza from MK? Catherine Morgan from Stanford? The Boogeyman?”

“I don’t think I’ve reached Boogeyman levels of infamy. Well, at least not yet.”

The voice makes the hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in close to three years, one that he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes snap up, locking with the large brown ones staring back at him, and all of the breath leaves his lungs at once. The last time he looked into these eyes, they weren’t full of humor like they are now, but pure fire. His chest constricts, inhaling suddenly the most difficult task in the world.

The entire room goes silent, everyone watching as Ethan and the woman stay locked in their staring contest. Isabelle’s eyes dart back and forth, hoping someone can clue her into what’s going on, but Naveen, Harper and Tobias offer zero assistance.

Isabelle takes the quiet time to appraise the stranger. She’s petite, almost a foot shorter than Ethan even with her sky high Jimmy Choos on. The second thing that catches her attention is the mess of dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders, and the amused smirk on her face, like a cat that got the canary.

The woman breaks eye contact with Ethan to look past his shoulder. “Harper, Tobias, hello. Long time no see.”

When he regains the ability to speak, Ethan grits out, “Naomi, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I got an interesting call from Leland Bloom this morning, saying that the diagnostics team was in dire need of some assistance on a particularly difficult case. Within the hour, his private helicopter was picking me up.”

Ethan takes a sterling’s breath and silently counts to 3 before talking again. “I’m not working with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not unless you quit.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Drama was never a good look on you, darling, I was always better suited for it.” She turns her attention to the young resident gawking at her, turning on her megawatt smile. “You’re new. I don’t know you.”

“Um, n-no you don't. I’m Dr. Isabelle Proctor.”

“Isabelle,” Naomi repeats slowly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Naomi Ramsey.”

The last name catches her attention. Her eyes flicker over to Ethan’s face, catching the way his jaw ticks as female Dr. Ramsey talks.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head as I talk, so I’ll clear things up for you right quick,” Naomi continues. “No, the last name thing isn’t a coincidence. I’m Ethan’s ex-wife." She sticks out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "Nice to meet you.”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

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oumaheroes · 3 years

Note

sorry if this is burning you out on the uk bros but your headcanons of them are so good! since the previous anon ask about wales and England's relationship, do you have any on ireland and england? I'd love to hear your view on their rocky relationship. I hope your doing well!

Other brit bro headcannons can be found here:

The whole gang (Relationships & History)

Scotland (Appearance)

Wales (Relationship)

Ireland (Appearance)

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

England and Ireland are an interesting pair

Overall, I’d say they’re the least close out of the UK siblings. Their personalities clash but without a redeeming quality that helps them make up for it: England and Scotland both have hot tempers but they cool easily which allows them to move on from things. Wales goes silent and moody but is hard to rile or annoy in the first place and has a lot of patience, so England’s fiery temper doesn’t affect him so much.

Ireland, however, also has a short temper and is quick to change moods. He blows up just as easily as England does but not as explosively, so whereas England will assume something is not a big deal because Ireland hasn’t screamed obscenities at him, actually it is a Very Big Deal indeed. Ireland can go very silky polite when truly angry and England, with his stubborn pride and need to have things over and done with as quickly as possible, will wrongly interpret these behaviours as ‘oh he’s trying to brush it aside, he’s seen my way of things.’ Actually, Ireland is more opposed than ever before and now has given up on whatever it was they were arguing about- he cannot be bothered to try to change England’s mind or resolve things and so he walks away stewing and angry, whereas England walks away calm again but confused.

England also doesn’t deal with passive aggression well; it’s not how he operates and prefers to be very overt in both his opinions and actions. This blunt force way of handling things is very intense for Ireland, who simmers on his feelings and enjoys a healthy argument where both parties pick fault and go around and around in circles but without intending offense. England, whose main way of communicating disapproval is through arguments, does not gel well with this- he takes Ireland picking fault as a personal attack against him, rather than Ireland just making a point and this then leads to the inevitable real explosion.

Ireland and Scotland still work despite Scotland’s hot temper because Scotland is a lot more laid back and confident in himself. He doesn’t read into behaviours or words for a sly attack and his pride doesn’t warp his perception of himself. You can criticise Scotland all you want, he’ll either agree that you have a point, or disagree and call you a twat but he doesn’t take it personally. England does and this is why he and Ireland experience the most friction- England can’t let things go and Ireland hides his hurt in silences so they both end up driving each other batty.

The two are also very different people hobby-wise. On paper they should get along: Ireland loves poetry and debating, as does England, and they’re both very skilled in both. However, their preferred types of each are different and rather than happily discussing the differences, they end up fighting about ‘who is right’ instead.

I’m not going to go into the history history of England and Ireland and how this shaped their view of each other. As I said in my Wales and England headcanon, I don’t believe nations in Hetalia can influence their government, nor can they control them. They exist as a cultural representative of their people, to guide them, help them, and remember them. England and Ireland had no role in the actions their governments had upon each other, but that doesn’t mean that they weren’t influenced by them and the English in Ireland haven’t been much of a positive influence. English Kings saw Ireland as an opportunity to gain and expand English influence and power so, although England himself didn’t do any of these actions or want them necessarily, he was still caught and tied up in it. Maybe he was shipped across the Irish sea to fight with him men, or maybe he wanted to go to be with them for support. Maybe England didn’t fight his rulers as much as he could have done in the cruel decisions they made, or maybe he let his own pride and need for recognition in Europe to help persuade him that what his leaders were doing was doing was justified.

I don’t feel comfortable digging that intimately into it, but I do believe that England defiantly didn’t do enough to stop what his government was doing and was very weak willed and shitty in how he conducted himself around these points in time. Ireland cannot blame England personally for the things his government did, but he can blame Arthur for how he personally acted, and Arthur did not act well, with his giant ego and need to be right at all times. The lingering bad blood and mistrust is very much deserved and England is aware that he Fucked Up.

For a long time, he didn’t want to accept this. He would blame others, blame Ireland, or try to minimise both how badly he’d behaved and how devastating his government’s actions were (‘he’s just sensitive! Look at the good side of things!’). It took him many, many years to accept his role in things and recognise that they were bad, and then even more years to admit this to Ireland himself. As England grew and matured and suffered his own losses, this understanding increased and eventually he was forced to accept things from Ireland’s side and admit that his actions weren’t the positive picture he liked to paint for himself. This pushed him to try and apologise, something he very rarely does.

These days, the two of them are better with each other. They’re trying, both of them. Sometimes England will say an ill-worded, offhand comment and Ireland will give him the benefit of the doubt and not jump down his throat. Sometimes Ireland will call him out, but England won’t brush the comment aside like he would have done a few decades previously, or instantly go on the defensive. They’re both working on listening and talking more, but things can still get strained at times, such as around easter, around North, around the EU, etc.

---------

Nonny, I’m so sorry for how late this is orz. I hope that you see this, thanks so much for the ask! (These sort sof things never burn me out, don’t you worry about that)

#aph Ireland #aph England #hws england #hws ireland #hetalia #hetalia headcanons #heroes headcanons #aph brit bros #aph #hws #heroes answers

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

scrubs - 2.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death. if you are not comfortable with these warnings please dni.

< previous chapter

- Where are you going? - Miriam rose her head from the work bench as Y/N took her gloves and googles off, disposing of both in the yellow bin. - Y/N, where are you going? Don’t leave me alone with the trainees.

- I’m going to get dinner. No eating in the lab, remember?

- Urgh, couldn’t you have gone to dinner when Michael was here? You’re leaving me alone with the trainees ... and the ask so many questions. - she whispered the last part, afraid the trainees would hear her and hit her over the head with their very heavy portfolios. - I’m going next.

- Hour break, don’t you dare page me. - she pointed her finger menacingly at Miriam before clocking out and heading out for dinner. If they had told her during her sleepless nights spent revising for her least favourite modules the most exciting time of her shifts would be the bland food served by the hospital cafeteria, she would’ve just become a pharmaceutical researcher. Yet again, you need to start at the bottom if you want to get to the top and Y/N was more than ready to climb that moment.

She pressed the button for the lift, leaning against her own hand as she tried to wake herself up. Turns out studying and staying up all night applying for PhD projects and then coming to work at 7AM is not the way to go for energy. Luckily, the black tea she had drank this morning had managed to keep her awake, however the caffeine was starting to slowly leave her system and she still had a few more hours awaiting her. As she was about to fall asleep while waiting for the lift to make it to the lower floors, she heard her name being called out.

- Y/N? - she looked to her side to see Peter standing next to her. They’ve known each other since freshers and if there was someone who was always wide awake during twenty four hour shifts it was him. He worked currently in the clinical biochemistry laboratory, mostly coming over to visit Y/N whenever they were working on cardiac infection cases together. - I looked at the file you gave me. CRP is actually present but quite low, could be recovery phase from an infection. My guess with abdominal pain would be a UTI.

- You reckon it hit recovery phase by itself?

- Listen, some pharmacy assistant might’ve given him antibiotics. Who knows but I’d get a urine analysis, do some cultures and see how’s it going but from my point of view, it’s in recovery phase.

- You’re a superstar, Peter. - she hugged him just as the lift doors opened. - You’re going up?

- Yeah, it’s dinner time. I think they’re serving meatballs today. Exciting stuff. - the two stepped onto the lift. - Miriam said Dr. Stan came down today. You’re still giving him hell?

- I am not giving him hell. He’s just constantly sending samples either mislabelled or misplaced and he expects me to lecture his nursing staff about it.

- I don’t know, Y/N. Back at university you spent 2 hours arguing an answer with a lecturer, I just think you like arguing. - he chuckled as the doors opened onto the floor where the cafeteria was. - Or maybe you like arguing with Dr. Stan.

Before she could complain about the snide comment, Peter took to having a chat with a nurse he was particular sweet on leaving Y/N with her mouth open ready to argue and a finger pointed at him. She rolled her eyes, collecting herself as she released her hair from the ponytail which held it safely high up so her scalp could rest for a few hours before it had to go back up. Walking into the green lit cafeteria, the room was filled with half asleep medical staff digging through the bland food like mindless zombies. She did not blame them, she too sometimes would switch off her brain during breaks but lately all the free time she had was dedicated to applications after applications, despite the fact she kept getting rejections every single day.

The scientist grabbed a worn out plastic blue tray, getting a batch on weirdly shaped meatballs from the cafeteria lady as well as some odly too yellow noodles. Hey, it is food, her brain told her as she grabbed a diet Pepsi and a slice of apple pie which was the only eatable dessert around.

- Didn’t you owe me dinner?

- You almost made me drop my tray. - she gave the resident doctor a dirty look, gripping tighter onto the tray. - And I’ll be damned if I ever owe you dinner but I do have your blood culture results and we did sort out your weird infection case.

- It is not my infection case.

- Fine, your patient’s infection case. God heavens if any interns knew that you had an infection, that way they wouldn’t fawn over you. - she rolled her eyes at him, setting her tray in the first table she came over. He did the same, placing his tray right in front of hers before sitting in the metal chair with a cocky grin. - Go away, I’ll send over the report to your office.

- Have you not figured it out yet and trying to buy yourself more time? Or are you trying to escape the dinner date you set up with me?

- That might work on your interns but not on me, Stan. Besides, it is an infection.

- But there’s no worrying levels CRP besides, what about the abdominal pain? Surely CRP and white blood cells would be off the roof.

- Okay, since you probably missed Biochemistry in med school I will explain it to you. The CRP levels are high during initial phases and lower down during resolve. Your patient is probably on recovery phase already. Recovery means it is fixing itself. Do you need me to explain CRP to you?

- If you pulled that out with any other doctor, you would’ve gotten told off.

- Other doctors don’t ask me stupid questions. - she pointed her fork at him. - Dr. Mackie never sends the samples in the wrong vials.

- What about the blood cultures?

- Congratulations, Dr. Your patient is not septic. It’s most likely localised but I’d suggest ordering some X-rays if you wanna localise where it actually is. I wash my hands of your troubles. - she shrugged, wrapping her fork in the spaghetti laying on her plate. - Need anything else, Dr. Stan?

- I remember being promised a dinner date.

- You should get your ears checked, the only thing I promised you was data and you’re lucky I also gave you a data ana ... - the scientist was interrupted by her pager beeping loudly against her belt. She grumbled, looking down at her belt with a look that would scare anyone. - Duty calls.

- How convenient it went off now.

- Unlike you, Dr. Stan, I have a team to lead.

- Sounds complicated, Y/N. You sure you don’t need a babysitter?

She turned around as she was about to leave, raising his middle finger at him before rushing down the hall as her pager beeped uncontrollably. So much for not paging her during dinner time. Someone better be dying, she thought to herself as she slide her card into the door slot to get access. What she came in contact with was not what she was expecting from a laboratory of trained professionals. Miriam was holding one of the trainees head forward whose nose was bleeding all over her worktop bench.

- Miriam, what the fuck?

- Don’t look at me. Thomas ... - she squinted at the boy whose head she was holding forward. - Started bleeding when he smelled the knee aspiration.

- Oh no. - Y/N put some gloves on before walking over to the two. - Okay, Miriam call a code orange. I’ll take Thomas upstairs and get him sorted.

- It’s so stinky.

- I know. - Y/N handed them two cotton balls from the jar to her left. - Put them up your nose.

What would be a day in the laboratory if a newbie didn’t either faint or got nose bleeds from samples? Definitely not a day in her laboratory. She looked around the busy hospital grounds, trying to find any free, available nurses but they were all overworked. No wonder why, whenever midnight rolled around, people started coming in left and right from club brawls and the grounds were always a nightmare.

- What you got there, Miss Y/L/N? Is this how you lead your team?

- Fuck off, Stan. I do not have time to listen to your comments, I need to find a nurse.

- What happened, kid? - Sebastian looked to the 19 year old medical laboratory assistant holding cotton against his nose. - Lab that bad? Come on, I’ll fix you up.

- Thanks. - she mumbled, following the two men into one of the free areas. Thomas sat on the table while Sebastian pulled up a chair to sit in, Y/N remaining up on her feet.

- So kid, what happened? Y/N rough you up too much?

- He got a nosebleed from the smell of a knee fluid from an aspiration. - Y/N replied to him, much to Thomas delight who felt more than embarrassed about the situation he was in. - Is this what you’re doing now, Dr. Stan? Minor cases? Did the chief of medicine finally realised you’re unqualified?

- No. - he spoke as he pointed out his light at the trainees nose, to look for any specific damage. - One of my patient’s in critical care but it seems to have stabilised for now at least.

- Oh ... sorry. What happened to them?

- Sepsis. - he turned off the lights. - Listen kid, it’s nothing to bad. Just stay sat here and firmly pinch the soft part of your nose, just above your nostrils, for about 15 minutes. Don’t forget to lean forward and breathe through your mouth. Me or one of the nurses will come check on you after to see if it has improved but so far, so good.

- I’ll return to the lab. Page me when you’re ready to return, okay? - she gave the young starter a kind smile before pulling the curtains and letting him be. Unfortunately for her, Stan would not let her be. - Keep it.

- How weak are your staff? How are they gonna react to when they actually see infected body parts?

- I said keep it. - she crossed her arms, ready to leave and return to the laboratory until she remembered something. She turned around on her heel, passive aggressive smile on her lips as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - Also, Dr. Stan, the infected tissue samples you sent us had the wrong birthdate on them.

- C’mon Y/N.

- They’re on hold until you speak with the laboratory manager about them. Good luck.

He opened his mouth to fight with her but she had already gotten into the elevator. The rest of her shift was pretty uneventful with her and a few of her colleagues having to pick up the pace to get everything sorted before they left. Miriam and her fiance left first at 1AM leaving Y/N to count the minutes til 2 AM rolled around. Once the clock read 2AM, like a speeder, she was out of that laboratory and into the elevator before anyone could call her. Walking to her parking spot, the sky was dark, the lot light by harsh yellow barely brightening. As she walked over to the second handed baby blue Fiat 500, she noticed someone hunched over and sat on the top of a black new model Audi, smoke coming out from his cigarette. Normally, she would’ve just avoided it and gotten into her car to go home but the turquoise scrubs were much too familiar at this point.

- Dr. Stan? - her boots hit the gravel as she stood just a few meters away from him. - Do they not teach you in medical school that smoking increases the chance of lung cancer?

- Not now, Y/N. - no sarcastic remark? That was a new one. He threw the cigarette butt onto the ground once it was all over, feet rubbing it against the gravel. - Not now.

- I thought your shift finished at 1:30? Pulling overtime hours? Someone needed your assistance? Death time?

- My septic patient died. - she immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Death was not something she particularly dealt with. Surely, some results were awful, specially in cases of ultra resistant bacteria showing up in the blood but that’s what they were, results. She didn’t see the patient, in all honesty all she would know the patient would be by a barcode number. - Sepsis quickly lead to organ failure. I don’t understand ... she was getting better.

- Sepsis is unpredictable. You did the best you could do.

- And you’d know? All you do is be in the laboratory and do tests. What would you know about it?

- Okay ... - she put her hands on her hips. - Are you on any antibiotics, prescription pain killers, sedative drugs, statins or any antidepressants?

- I don’t see the point.

- The bar nearby has a discount for hospital staff. It’s only a five minute walk and everyone else is so miserable, you don’t feel bad about being miserable.

- I’m not going to the bar in my scrubs, Y/N.

- If you’re okay wearing those ... - she pointed at his scrubs. - Then you are okay wearing them at the bar.

She was right, the bar did look miserable. Not in a miserable way which would require regulation to shut down the place but miserable in a way one would just be at home wallowing in their pity with a pint of beer and right now that was all he needed. He sat in a sticky red booth, in front of her with a pint of beer while she picked a cocktail from the menu.

- You don’t seem like the type of girl who’d come here.

- And I’m not but they sell really cheap burgers at lunchtime. - she put her hand under her chin. - Besides, I’ve done this before.

- When did you convince someone to come to the bar because their patient flat lined?

- You know Dr. Liam Watts?

- Surgery residency? I’ve heard about him before. - her lips tensed in a straight line as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - No. You’ve been here with Bucktooth Watts before?

- Yeah... even after he clearly needed support after he couldn’t save his first patient, he still decided to take me on a date here.

- I’m sorry, you dated Bucktooth Watts? - he chuckled, downing whatever was left of his pint, signalling the bartender to bring him another one.

- This is why we don’t hang out. He’s not bucktoothed.

- Sure, sure. I see the appeal, I mean over Christmas at least you have someone to cut the carrots.

The night went onwards with a bunch of maybe irresponsible drinking. Y/N was two mojitos in and she was already tipsy and giggling like a school girl, not really used to drinking. Sebastian was in the same state as her, trying not to laugh at everything as they stepped outside to grab a taxi. At least both of them were conscious enough to decide not to drive.

- No, you did not get locked in the vroom cupboard during your residency. - she held her belly as she laughed.

- I did and my senior doctor did not notice I was gone. I was stuck there for 5 hours.

- Oh god. - she held herself against the wall. - I always knew you were a clutz. You know, you’re the only doctor who hasn’t told off his nurses about the blood bottles.

- Can I tell you a secret? - he whispered mid laughter. - I am afraid of them.

- Oh my god. - she held her hand on his shoulder covering her mouth with the other one. - See, this is why I constantly argue with you. You’re soft, doctor.

- Arguing with you is the best part of my day. You look really hot when you’re telling me off.

- You look terrible when I tell you off. - the two of them stopped laughing, looking into each other eyes for the first time since they’d been out of the laboratory. Maybe it was the alcohol but at that moment, the best idea to the two of them was to lean towards each other, his hands grasping each side of her waist as they connected the space between them, getting together into a hot long kiss.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan doctor au #doctor!sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine

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eatyourchancletas · 3 years

Text

SUMMARY | y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, adult language

[chapter index] [playlist] [previous chapter]

AUTHOR’S NOTE | chapter 2 is finally up! it was written by monnie, a sweetheart 😙 edited by alex! we hope you enjoy! please leave feedback, we really encourage it and enjoy it!

WORD COUNT | 1.7k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe if you’d like to be added to the list, please say so in out inbox/ask box!

at this point y/n wondered why he followed his instincts. had he known it was a mafia on the other side of where he was, he could have gotten in his car, gone home to enjoy a cup of ramen, and then go to sleep. then again he didn’t know, so he blamed life’s cruelty.

“hey, good morning.” a soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. he glanced over at the familiar voice that belonged to the only person he’s seen in the past few days.

y/n said nothing, watching the other slide in a tray of steamy fresh food. “i noticed you eat a few things more than the others so i tried to give you bigger portions.”

“thanks,” y/n accepted the tray with no expression and seonghwa pursed his lips at the short answer.

at the tense atmosphere, seonghwa excused himself. he wasn't sure if he felt pity for y/n, but either way, he just wanted y/n to grow used to this new environment because one thing was certain and that was that y/n could never go back to his old life.

seonghwa sighed softly, "good morning."

y/n tilted his head at him, looking up at the second in command with dull eyes. he simply hummed in greeting, clearly not in the mood during the past five days.

the blonde gripped the tray, his patience running low with the older’s behavior. he's meaning well, he understands y/n, he does, but no one will get anywhere if there’s constant passiveness between the two.

“i threw in an extra cookie,” he gestured to the pastry, “i figured you’d like some extra sugar in your system.”

once more, y/n hummed, nodding his head lightly. it made seonghwa's blood boil—clearly, y/n wasn't vibing with him, and the last thing he thought of in this situation was the way y/n was being affected.

"hey, listen. your little silent treatment isn't gonna do jack here. you either socialize or stay down here, which isn't gonna happen because sooner or later they'll drag you up there. keep in mind you won't have anyone else to socialize with—forget your friends, family, everyone you had around before this. you'll be around us for as long as needed, maybe until your last breath."

y/n scoffed, looking away from seonghwa, something the older didn't take very nicely until he heard y/n’s meek reply, "you say that like it's easy."

the younger sputtered, handing y/n the tray of food, "i know it's hard, but just know each of us gave something up too. but, eventually, we all learned how to live with it,” seonghwa squatted to y/n’s level, “and you will too."

the doctor swallowed, taking the tray and finally making eye contact with seonghwa. they shared a small pained smile, and seonghwa made one last comment before heading back, "make sure you eat up—don't want you dying on me after i took all that time to make such delicacies."

y/n smiled to himself as he heard seonghwa shuffle to turn around. "thank you…i'll see you later…"

"sure will…” seonghwa’s chuckle ricocheted off the walls as he walked down the hall to the metal door. he pushed it open, making his way up the stairs and to the living room where a few of the others were gathered.

“hyung! just on time, we were talking about this upcoming mission we might have in a few days,” san commented as soon as he saw the older.

“is that so?” seonghwa mumbled in response as he sat down next to hongjoong, the other sipping iced bourbon from a glass cup.

“i’m not sure about it yet,” hongjoong set the glass down on the coffee table in front of him, “wooyoung still needs to gather more info before i verify anything. can’t be careless, remember?”

“totally, hyung. i’ll dig more into the client and have the info needed before morning.” wooyoung gave a reassuring smile to their boss, who simply hummed in return.

“by the way hwa,” hongjoong glanced at his boyfriend, leaning back into the leather couch and crossing his legs, “how’s the doctor?”

seonghwa blinked, “he’s fine, a bit down but he’ll get over it. so, in short, he’s behaved well these past days.”

hongjoong nodded, “that’s good, we’ll let him out tomorrow then. but right now i need you to go with san to the mechanic shop, make sure business is flowing well—which i don’t doubt. maybe visit mingi and yunho and see how well the loaning business has been. if i recall correctly, mingi said something about a few people not paying back on time; tell them not to get aggressive, we aren’t monsters after all.” there was a playful lilt to his tone, but they picked up on the seriousness behind it.

san got up, nodding at hongjoong’s orders, “we’ll tell yeo if anything happens.”

seonghwa followed suit, “we’ll see you later then,” he waved farewell without looking back at them.

wooyoung slid the folder over to hongjoong, the older raising a brow while taking it in his hands. “i gathered some info, it’s all in there—but to put it simply, i think we’ll gain lots of benefits after signing a deal with him. his name is yoo dongwoo, lives in seongnam.”

“that’s a bit too close to us, don’t you think?” hongjoong hums as he sets the folder down, resting his elbow on the armrest and his chin on the palm of his hand.

“yeah, it is. but i think it’d be worth it. he seems to have lots of connections, and so far he’s never had an issue with payments, transportation and business—” wooyoung’s attention is taken when the door leading to the basement is pushed open.

“people!” yunho blocks y/n, capturing the attention of the others in the room. the tallest holds his arms out in a way of grand gesture, bowing, “i present you, y/n-”

“that’s...not necessary…” y/n can feel his skin grow warm under the tense and awkward atmosphere. luckily it’s broken by the one and only choi san.

“well we haven’t properly introduced ourselves if you think about it,” he pushed himself into y/n’s space, the doctor tensing up a bit at the close intrusion. yunho watched san, stepping aside to give the two some more space,“i’m san! nice to meet you! i’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

the cheerful boy grinned widely, dimples making an appearance while his eyes did the opposite. y/n blinked, processing how close san was before taking a small step back. he didn’t reply verbally, giving a small smile and a nod instead,

“you know me already,” yunho said while taking a seat at the table.

"you know me too," seonghwa walked in with a tray of cookies, baking gloves protecting his hands. "and take a seat."

y/n glanced at the table, not sure where to take a seat, but he guessed it didn't matter as long as he didn't sit near the boss.

"i'm hongjoong, the boss in case you didn't know," hongjoong watched the tray seonghwa placed on the table, waiting to grab a pastry.

"i'm mingi!" said male smiled as y/n hastily took the seat next to him.

"i'm wooyoung, but call me woo if you want!" wooyoung was on the other side of y/n, making the doctor sandwiched between him and mingi.

"yeosang," the said male sat across from y/n, an intensely bored expression taking over his features.

"did we miss anyone?" seonghwa rose a brow while taking off the gloves.

"oh right, jongho! he's our bodyguard," san gestured at the buff male that stood by the door.

y/n turned to look at him, jongho gently nodding his head at him and y/n doing the same.

hongjoong clapped his hands, capturing everyone's attention. "great, now with that out of the way, let's get down to business."

everyone nodded at his words, taking a cookie from the tray seonghwa placed on the table. y/n accepted the one san handed to him, smiling a bit at how caring the male had shown to be so far.

"we're heading out in the morning, i need everyone to get back to their usual jobs by evening so we'll try to make the exchange as quick as possible. everyone except y/n and yeosang will go, we need info and updates from the outside.

before we leave i need yunho and mingi to make sure all the parts we'll hand over are correct. i don't want mistakes. wooyoung and i will take care of the talking, san and seonghwa will stand by the nearest exit to make sure everything is in order. jongho you'll be with me and woo."

all nine of them nodded at hongjoong's orders. y/n voluntarily nodded, remembering seonghwa’s earlier words, “each of us gave something up too. but, eventually, we all learned how to live with it.” he knew he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so he figured he’d make it a bit easier for himself.

"and i need you all to wear bulletproof vests under your clothes just in case. your guns must be locked and loaded, got it?"

"guns?" y/n blinked, capturing everyone's attention, "why are you guys willing to blow your organs out?"

wooyoung smiled, his head tilting a bit, "why are you willing to work for people who’s organs have been blown out?”

y/n opened his mouth before closing it and nodding in defeat, "fair point. i get paid for it, at least..."

they were all quiet before chuckling, the atmosphere feeling more warm and calm than what it was when they first gathered.

"has anyone seen y/n?"

his peers shook their head, speaking of the last time they saw said male. the doctor he worked with mentioned something that made the nurse worry even more.

"last thing i knew was that his car was towed since he never picked it up. didn't hear anything else though, but don't worry heeseung, maybe he picked it up afterwards."

heeseung, the nurse that had asked about y/n's whereabouts, sighed. "right...i hope so...see you guys tomorrow!"

his peers returned the smile and farewell.

as heeseung took a seat on the bus, he pulled out his phone. the first thing he did was go to the messaging app and open his and y/n's chat.

'hi :]

how are you?

#t.k chapter #tinted kisses #ateez #choi san #ateez x male reader #mafia ateez #ateez mafia au #kpop x male reader #top male reader #male reader #kpop imagines #kpop fics #kpop reactions #ateez x atiny #male atiny

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Note

could you please do a reaction to ateez being really mad that it’s actually scary? (since they themselves said that san gets really scary when he’s mad!) thank you!!

tw: fighting, shoving

❥ kim hongjoong

usually your boyfriend can handle sticky situations well. he has a life that requires a certain level of tenacity and strength that you know he had, dealing with all the stressors and unusual situations with grace.

but the second you heard the front door slam against the wall, jumping from your place in the kitchen, you knew he was mad.

“no, that’s actually not what i said,” his voice snapped, the anger and venom behind it so uncharacteristic. he usually greeted you with a soft “hi,” or a back hug, pressing a kiss to your neck that would almost always make you smile.

but you’re not smiling now, watching as hongjoong yells into the phone. he rolls his eyes and hangs up despite the voice on the other line still talking back, throwing his phone across the room as it luckily lands on the couch.

“god damn it.”

you look at the boy with wide eyes, biting on your lip because you’re not entirely sure what to say. he only looks at you, his face softening ever so slightly, before he tells you he’s gonna go shower.

you finish making dinner by the time he’s out and in the bedroom, bringing your plates into the room and sitting down next to him. he pulls you over the second you tell him the food is ready, his head shaking as he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your neck from behind.

you both just lay there until you feel his even breaths against your skin, deciding to let him rest because you can always heat up the food later.

❥ park seonghwa

you thought you saw seonghwa mad before, the way he rolls his eyes when you talk back to him or glares at you from across the room when you send him a questionable text.

but this, him in a heated fight with his brother as the two tall boys scream and push at each other, is quite possibly the scariest thing you’ve ever seen.

it had all seemed playful at first, the two siblings talking about their childhood and telling you all about their times in school together. but a few snippy digs from his brother as well as seonghwa’s retaliation landed them here, screaming and yelling at one another till they were red in the face and neck veins were bulging.

“seonghwa,” you said quietly, placing your hand on his arm gently. but whether it be his natural instinct in the heat of the moment or him not realizing it was you, he pushed your hand off of him and stepped closer to his brother.

“see, hwa, you’re a fuckin’ dick,” his brother had said, his eyes catching the sad, scared look on your face. “even your own girlfriend’s terrified of you.” and it was upon hearing that it’s like he remembered you were there, his head snapping back to see you with wide eyes and your teeth in your lip.

his heart sinks seeing the look in your eyes, immediately abandoning his brother and taking your hand in his. he guides you into his room and slams the door, anger still coursing through him but now for an entirely different reason.

“i’m sorry,” he says lowly, his thumb running over your hand before he pulls you into him. you sniffle against him as you shake your head, telling him you never wanna see him actually mad again.

❥ jeong yunho

you didn’t even know it was possible to ever be scared of yunho.

you had never not seen the boy with a smile on his face or his head thrown back in laughter. he usually acted as the happiest of the bunch, calming the others down and always keeping the mood in good spirits.

but this, you’ve never seen this before. because even the happiest of people have bad days: getting yelled at by his boss all day and stuck in irritating traffic on the way home all while running on a cup of coffee turned the normally happy, bubbly yunho into someone you didn’t recognize.

he had burst through the door with a dead look in his eyes, walking past you like you were a ghost and your eyebrows immediately pulled together.

“hi,” you say, almost speaking it like a question. but the boy only looked at you and nodded his head, the tension in his face and body far to oobvious. it caused anxiety and nervousness to creep up on you, watching as he placed his bag down on the couch.

and then like when the universe knows you’re having a bad day, the backpack topples over and a few things inside fall out, acting as the last straw that makes yunho pick up the book and throw it across the room. you can’t help but let out a yelp, the book smacking off the table and knocking over the two remotes making your body prickle with anxiety.

his head snaps over to you and his wild eyes soften the slightest bit at seeing the fear in your eyes, mumbling a deep, choked “sorry,” before he abruptly leaves the room and goes into the bedroom.

you allow him some alone time for the next hour, finishing up your work in the kitchen before walking into the room. you see his big body laying out on the bed, his eyes closed but face still pinched with tension and irritation.

“come here,” he suddenly says, his eyes open and the smallest pout on his lips as he reaches his long arms out to you. you immediately fall into him and he presses a kiss to the skin of your neck, tightening his hold on you.

“i’m sorry if i scared you.”

❥ kang yeosang

you and yeosang have known each other for years and have gotten into your fair share of fights. but they were more so a playful banter that lasted for all of twenty minutes before one of you let out a snort and the whole thing was forgotten.

this however, was much different. because you’d always heard once you move in with someone, things change. you’ll see all of their annoying habits and things you wish they did differently, the smallest thing they’ll do irritating the shit out of you.

which is probably why you’re both two weeks in to this passive aggressive fight, a singular bowl in the kitchen sink that neither of you have been touching. it was technically yours but when he had taken it in, you had asked him to soak it in hot water and soap so you wouldn’t have to scrape the spices and sauce off of it tirelessly.

and when you woke up the next morning and seen he hadn’t, your fresh manicure for your best friend’s wedding a reminder of why you couldn’t scrape off the food, you’d gotten annoyed. made a snippy comment to him in passing that made him roll his eyes and shrug his shoulders.

but tonight, when he’d come home and saw the bowl, it’d been the last thing to make him snap. because he’d already had a really shitty day and that stupid red bowl in the sink served as a reminder for how fucking obnoxious you were being.

“i’m being obnoxious?” you scream, “i fucking asked you for one favor yeosang and now we’ll never be able to get it off!”

“then just throw it out, i could give a shit,” he snapped, his voice biting and hard and it’s such an uncharacteristic tone it makes your eyes widen. “if you weren’t so god damn stubborn and selfish, you’d see i’m under a lot of fucking stress and would do this one little thing for me.”

the verbal assault didn’t so much scare you as much as it hurt you, the way he inched forward and his eyes burned down into yours. your back was pushed against the sink harshly and his jaw was clenched, the way his chest was heaving and eyes were tight a sign he wasn’t okay right now.

“how ‘bout you go take a nap and i’ll heat up your bottle for you,” you snap, pushing him backward before turning around and soaking the damn bowl yourself; because if he’d been paying attention too, he’d see you were stressed too.

you both were stressed and annoyed these days and this fight certainly didn’t help anything.

that’s why you’re grateful for when, the next morning, both of you woke up at the same time and met at the sink, fully prepared to clean and hide the bowl away so the fight could finally end.

❥ choi san

you’d heard the boys say a million times that san was scary. that even though he was happy and smiley and cute most of the time, the times he was mad were a horrifying contrast.

but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to believe that, not once seeing the boy raise his voice or get violent. but you’d also never seen him in a fight before, surprising him and the other seven at the company with handfuls of food and soda.

“san, calm down, we’ll get it.”

and the roaring voice you hear respond you almost didn’t recognize, san’s little hands in fists as he pushes at mingi’s much taller figure like there isn’t a good few inches between them. his screams were booming and loud and when you watched him go to mingi again, your shaky voice firmly called his name.

“what?” he snapped, his eyes full of tension and anger as he looked right through you. your eyes widened and felt your heart drop, the way he was looking and talking to you completely unfamiliar.

“what are you doing here?” your eyebrows pull together at his tone, almost accusatory and annoyed, before you hold up the two plastic bags of takeout.

“i knew you guys were working late so i wanted to…” you press your lips together as his dark eyes continue to stare blanklt at you, shaking your head before walking over to the table. “i’ll just leave these here. sorry, guys.”

“y/n, it’s fine, we were just-“ but you can only shake your head and leave, the look on san’s face and the tension in the room suffocating you. you’re not used to that anymore, you’ve been away from fighting and screaming for far too long that now it brings you back to a place you don’t wanna go.

and san had never brouht you there before. he was usually you’re safe place.

but just as you’re about to walk down the stairs to the main level, a slightly clammy hand grabs yours and pulls you into a sweaty chest.

you immediately smell the familiar cologne mixed with sweat and feel san’s face in your neck, his lowly spoken apology still tight and tense; but he couldn’t allow you to walk out thinking he was mad at you, hongjoong giving him a look of disapproval that immediately made him rush out of the room and run after you.

❥ song mingi

yunho had called you in a panic, asking you how much longer until you were due to arrive at the dorm. your eyebrows pulled together in confusion as you told him you were about to walk into the building, just a few seconds later seeing the tall boy standing in the archway of their front door.

but it wasn’t even the drained look on the boy’s face that caught your attention, it was the loud screams coming from inside. the familiar loud screams of mingi, his voice deep and booming in a way you’ve never heard before.

“what’s happening?” you asked yunho, pushing yourself in the doorway to see your boyfriend and hongjoong standing toe to toe in a violent screaming match; you don’t see the boys fight often but you have to imagine this is a pretty bad one, hongjoong’s finger pointing up fearlessly in mingi’s face.

“y/n, i don’t know if you should-“

“he won’t hurt me,” you say adamantly, walking toward mingi confidently. but he doesn’t even hear you, doesn’t even know you’ve arrived, so when he feels an arm try to tug him away, he figures it’s yunho and gives the boy a rough shove.

but it wasn’t a six foot man and instead it was you, a high-pitched squeal leaving your mouth before luckily yunho caught you before you could hurtle toward the floor. and that’s when mingi’s eyes widen and the fighting halts, your eyes staring at him full of fear.

“y/n, baby, when did you get here?”

but you can’t find it in yourself to speak, shaking your head and pushing yourself further back into yunho who welcomes your presence. everyone watches silently as mingi’s tall frame immediately falls, eyes filling with tears before he shoves past hongjoong shortly followed by the slamming of a bedroom door.

the boys try to tell you to wait for him to cool down but after just a few minutes of recovering, you make your way into the room to see mingi curled up on his bed with his head buried in his pillow.

his head snaps up and sees you, tears running down his face as he brokenly apologies. he rushes over to you and hugs you tightly, his shaky, teary voice telling you he thought you were yunho. he thought you were yunho and he would never ever push you or hurt you. he would’ve never done that if he knew it was you.

and while you know that, it was still scary. so you guide him over to the bed and sit him down, softly telling him that while you accept his apology, he has to work on reigning in his temper and being aware of his strength.

❥ jung wooyoung

you knew wooyoung was loud. he was loud almost everyday of his life, at any given hour in any given situation. but what you didn’t realize is that, when wooyoung’s quiet, that’s when you should be concerned.

because when he came in from a late night practice, there was obvious tension in the boy’s appearance. his jaw was tight and his eyes were burning, pushing past you in the kitchen without so much as a hi.

“wooyoung?” you said questioningly but he only shook his head, plopping down on the couch and placing his head in his hands. you don’t know how long he sat there brewing with anger and rage, his leg bouncing and harsh exhales and inhales leaving him.

“wooyoung, you’re scaring me,” you said softly, cautiously making your way over and watching the boy with wide eyes. it felt silly to be scared, because he wasn’t even doing anything, but he was just so obviously not him.

“i’m fine, babe, just please…go in the room, okay? i’ll be in a little.” and despite not wanting to, despite wanting to comfort him and talk to him and offer him some kind of support, you find yourself laying down on the bed and mindlessly watching tv.

you fall asleep at some point and only stir when you feel the bed dip, his arms around your waist and his lowly mumbled apology in your ear making you push back into him.

“we’ll talk tomorrow,” you mumbled, his lips against your head as you nod the last thing you remember before falling asleep.

❥ choi jongho

you knew the second you saw jongho standing outside your apartment that he was pissed. everything about him was rigid and stiff and angry, his dark eyes barely softening upon seeing you.

it was supposed to be your date night but the first thirty minutes of it are proving to be a challenge, the boy barely say a word as you walk to the restaurant a few blocks away.

“jongho, we don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want,” you tell him. but because he’s angry and probably looking for a fight, you’re not all too surprised when he stops walking and snaps his head at you.

“i’m here aren’t i?” he says, voice low and hard to not cause a scene. “so what makes you think i don’t wanna?”

“probably has something to do with the fact you've barely said a word to me.”

but the comment only makes him roll his eyes, the two of you walking in silence before making your way to the restaurant. but before you can even open the door, you shake your head and pull him back.

“i don’t wanna go in there like this, jongho,” you say, your wide eyes looking at him cautiously. “if you wanna reschedule this, we can. but i don’t wanna…i don’t want you to be here if you don’t wanna.”

your words make his heart sink, the sad, scared look in your eyes making him frown and pull you into him. he kisses the top of your head before guiding through the door by the small of your back, finally opening up over the appetizer about what a bad day he had.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez angst #request #💌

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linddzz · 3 years

Note

Pitch Black for the ask meme bc I'm forever on my rotg bullshit

002 | Give me a character & I will tell you

How I feel about this character: THE OG! THE BASTARD THAT STARTED IT ALL! My first fanfic was because I didn’t like how anyone else was writing him at the time. He is still probably one of my favorite villain characters tbh. He’s got the classic Bad Guy vibe with evil laughs and a killin aesthetic but just adding all the potential for ancient eldritch personification of fear in the shadows???? Chefs kiss. So much cool shit was done with him in fandom because of that. But he’s also a goofy fuck??? He tells stupid jokes and he sasses and we must never forget the prancing around on the globe like a big fucking nerd. And then the angst potential. The reveal that he’s also a lonely miserable motherfucker who is largely acting up to get attention and make people notice him. He’s manipulative but I like interpreting him as also being fully sincere and never really lying because that makes it so much more interesting. Later learning about the book Kozmotis backstory??? Making Pitch into the end result of a formerly noble hero character being taken over and fully corrupted by cosmic darkness??? AMAZING. INCREDIBLE. EXACTLY MY SHIT.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Jack Frost. (Who uh, just to be clear for newer kids, bc of his voice I always took as “twink who died between 18 and 25″ since if I remember right no one could find an official age for movie Jack??) I mean, you got the Cold and Dark dynamic that even Pitch tries to appeal to. You can also go into fun often has a bit of fear going on. They’re two immortals who know what it’s like to be totally ignored, overlooked, and invisible while being increasingly desperate for some sort of recognition. They can take each other in a fight and GOD I always loved Pitches legit batshit GLEE when Jack hands his ass to him and hes all like OH YEAH SHIT GOT INTERESTING AGAIN. I also am a person who loves me some unhealthy obsession in my fiction ships and Pitch immediately going “IF YOURE NOT GONNA BE MY FRIEND YOU’RE GONNA BE NO ONES FRIEND!!!!” just made my Hot Problematique Content senses perk right the fuck up. Scissor Sisters “I Cant Decide” is MY SONG for them ok like they just got that MOOD. Even in my more uh, mutal and balanced version of them (aka Evil Boyfriends) I see any relationship with Pitch getting full on codependent and obsessive and contentious. But even with all Dark Vibes there’s that fun aspect to them both! There is so much potential for stupid shenanigans and jokes and mischievous idiocy right alongside the dark nightmare shit and god I love that dichotomy.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Him and Sandman have a two-sides-of-the-same-coin balance dynamic that is so great to explore. I also have an AU where Pitch is less Absolute Villain and more of a like, weird asshole antagonist who is still Part of Their World and anyway him and Toothiana get together to have tea parties where they talk shit and act like passive aggressive PTA mom frienemies.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Fandom made him too nice. Just. In general. I also got a lot of flack in the height of fandom for saying that without a LOONNNGGGG redemption arc and likely a bit of reverting back to Kozmotis, Pitch as he is in the movie isn’t really made for “healthy and wholesome romantic relationship”

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I only kinda read the books but man i would KILL for that Kozmotis backstory presented as an adult sci-fi/fairytale. Give me space fantasy and noble knights and really digging into that “how much of the old man is in there still” nightmare potential.

my OTP: I pretty much put my blackice manifesto right up there already

my cross over ship: Shrug

a headcanon fact: Pitch doesn’t remember his old life but his personality is pretty much unchanged, but twisted up. He still sometimes gets set off and almost triggered by things that hit on Kozmotis trauma, but he has no idea why and those instances freak him out a little bit. He dances around a lot and if he wasn’t so fucked up by his growing isolation and need for vengeance he would probably be a great non-evil overall harmless antagonist who just likes stirring shit up for shits and giggles and (other peoples) screams.

#rotg #pitch black #blackice #that nightmare aesthetic was SO GOOD #we all took this kids movie and went #ok but lets look more into that ancient nightmare creature who likes dancing like a dweeb #Anonymous

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clonecumber · 3 years

Text

So I started my TripZip re-read with the Targets short because 1) timeline and 2) who’s gonna stop me

and while I was reading there was that whole scene where Kal Skirata decides to go in as a hostage and Ordo is like “uh...don’t?” and skirata’s like “nah i’m gonna” and then does and then fi almost shoots him and spends the rest of forever feeling horrifically guilty about it? I have thoughts about that. I’m still not entirely sure where I’m going with this but...uh...

So right after Fi almost kills Skirata there’s this, which, on it’s own, I didn’t think much about. Skirata’s allowed to be human and have a bit of an emotion about staring bald-faced down the barrel of a friendly’s rifle while screaming desperately for them to stop. That’s a scary situation! He also immediately backtracks when Fi crumples and tries to reassure him that Skirata doesn’t blame him and isn’t angry and that Fi did the right thing.

However.

Shortly after that there’s this

...which immediately made me pause. Because. That is a very odd way to talk about this? The natural thing to say here would have been we. That’s not even a matter of opinion, I don’t think. He’s talking about an operation involving multiple departments, multiple people, a six-man reaction force who was actually on-scene in the building where at least five of them all had equal chances of being the one to shoot the Direx member, with at least three separate individuals trying to call the shots from the very beginning, and he makes a point to put the entire potential fallout on Fi? While Fi is in earshot? Literally, right after he says that, Fi hears and immediately feels like shit.

Skirata’s military, where using the collective is auto-default. For a reason. The fact Skirata’s the sergeant here and he tosses the name of one of his junior men out there in a conversation like that, with an outside party, is. Really fucking weird. Especially as Skirata typically performs as exceptionally protective.

So I can’t really take that as anything except a dig at Fi? Skirata might not even really notice he’s doing it, but to me it says something about how Skirata is thinking about Fi almost shooting him, that he’s subconsciously trying to steer punishment Fi’s way. Make him the guy who almost fucked up everything. Whatever he said to Fi earlier about not blaming him, whatever Skirata might believe himself, it’s sort of clear he does? It’s really, really subtle and really, really passive aggressive, but it’s there.

“Hey, guys, remember that time Fi almost fucked up the whole war and also almost shot me a civilian? I’m worried you might have forgotten so I’m gonna bring it up again. Just in case.”

This is from way later on in Triple Zero, where Skirata is STILL THINKING ABOUT IT, apparently. Man is not letting this thing go. He doesn’t say it in a way that could be taken as criticism, but he just. Doesn’t shut up about it either.

AND THAT’S NOT ALL. So, okay, with just that entire thing up there I probably wouldn’t bother making a post about this, because one situation does not a whole-ass character make and alone some of those conclusions are on shaky ground, but we ALSO have THIS

CUT TO ORDO

So Ordo wants to try his hand at talking to a politician guy (Mar Rugeyan) who Skirata already offended to try and get him to let clones have leave as a smokescreen for their operation on Coruscant. Skirata makes a quip about Ordo beating the man up instead of talking to him and how he doesn’t think Ordo would be able to charm him anyway, which clearly hurts Ordo. Skirata rushes to reassure him as soon as he notices (compare: the Fi convo), but.

Look, there is a lot in this book about how “everyone knows” Skirata “doesn’t mean the sharp things he says” but this sort of...points to the opposite of that. Ordo, who was very personally raised by this man in a way even the commandos weren’t and probably knows him best of anyone with the exception of maybe the other Nulls, is ready to find criticism in every innocuous comment to the point he goes from being in a notable good mood to nervous appeasement in the time it takes Skirata to open his mouth and doesn’t believe him when Skirata tries to reassure him.

Coupled with the Fi convo above, and there’s a bit of an unsettling pattern here, where Skirata makes a dig (deliberate or not), hurts someone, immediately backtracks, but then, coin-toss here, doesn’t actually let it go. Fi believed him when Skirata reassured him in Targets, but was then taken off guard by the little dagger thrown later when Skirata singles him out to Obrim about the potential political fallout in Fi’s earshot. Ordo, here, more experienced with Skirata, notably doesn’t believe him, doesn’t let his guard down, and that says to me that he knows Skirata does that sort of thing, and that he’s learned that between the hurtful words and the nice ones that follow, the hurtful ones are more likely to be the truth. Ordo’s more experienced reaction to the exact same situation Fi found himself in is to assume Skirata is still upset regardless of what he says and continue trying to placate him rather than trust him when he says he’s not upset or angry or disappointed. That’s a learned response.

ESPECIALLY WHEN HE DOES IT AGAIN

Literally how many times in ONE BOOK is this man going to have the exact same conversation?

I haven’t even finished the book.

Ordo’s around him most often, so Ordo gets it the worst, but Skirata never learns to watch his tongue with anyone (unless he needs them) no matter how many times he hurts them. He knows Ordo is sensitive to perceived criticism from him. He knows Ordo is hurt when he makes comments like this. He has noted this himself in his own POV. And he doesn’t stop. He just keep making the same apologies, trotting out the same platitudes, and then doing nothing to change his behavior. He doesn’t even try?

Anyway, for those following back home, I think it’s safe to say I'm no longer unsure over how to feel about this.

Now for the round-up:

Final set of images I promise. With all of the above the two scenarios here take a really uncomfortable turn, I think? Which is why I wanted to talk about it.

The top one is when Skirata walks into the barracks the Nulls took over and the second is right before going into the hostage situation. Both times here Skirata’s making a show about being a tough guy, but I think it really says something that he keeps pulling this card, and how he reacted the one time it turns out he might actually die.

Okay, so, Skirata’s reaction to Fi being a shaky, “You really would have slotted me, wouldn’t you?” as a human response like yeeeeah, sure, fair, but then couple that with his passive aggressiveness in other conversations/the passive aggressiveness his kids expect from him/his very well-defined manipulative tendencies and the way he himself is the one to knowingly put Fi in that position, who told Fi to kill him if he had to, and then STILL comes to him afterward all shocked and horrified that Fi might actually have gone through with it is. Yeah, it’s fucked up, honestly. In light of that, it almost feels like a deliberate dig, like he wanted to make Fi feel guilty. It also speaks to the fact that he apparently didn’t really think one of “his boys” would ever actually shoot to kill if it was him, that he sort of...assumes he’s the super special exception somehow? That they’ll just magically make a choice he’s spent their entire lives training them not to make? That they’ll throw a whole mission just to spare him even if he’s deliberately trying to do the whole stoic hardass martyr thing? Like he doesn’t ever expect to actually have to pay up to the shit he says? Because yeah, sure, he says he expects them to slot him if they have to, but he clearly doesn’t believe it, and it makes him put himself and them into some pretty fucked up situations.

And he keeps doing it.

I don’t know, friends, it sort of reads like a man who raised six highly intelligent little boys who all immediately saw and rightfully understood that this man was their one defense on Kamino, while the man in question didn’t seem to understand/deliberately ignore that this means those little boys would have a vested interest in staying on his good side, that they would go out of their way to appease him for fear of what would happen if he decided that, actually, they ARE too much trouble, or maybe just that he wasn’t getting sufficient returns on this investment. Every instance of Kal Skirata’s disapproval, disappointment, or even just disinterest could easily have been a death sentence to the Nulls while they were growing up. Skirata might never have thought about it that way, sure, because he knows he would never (and he absolutely would not have, it’s true), but his desire not to have to acknowledge the unhealthy amount of power he has over the clones and the potentials for abuse there ends where the well-being of the kids begins, and whatever Skirata knows about himself, it’s unreasonable, unfair, and grossly neglectful to expect the traumatized children not to take the worst case scenario under consideration and respond accordingly. Especially in those early days. It’s their lives on the line.

And I might sympathize with the incredibly fucked up situation Skirata found himself in, because who the hell is actually prepared for that, but then the man, though he should have known better, went on to ALLOW these extreme shows of appeasement and exclusive loyalty and declarations of “we’ll always serve you” (yikes?!?) (as though that’s a perfectly acceptable thing for a child to say to their parent) (Or, if not acceptable, then at least something that was somehow entirely outside of Skriata’s control and he just happened to find himself on this pedestal no IDEA how that happened all aw shucks guys you didn’t have to while doing absolutely nothing to climb down from it whatsoever.) That’s the result of a life-long pattern. And the fact Skirata never actually dissuades any of his sons from those sort of shows says a lot about how he views the situation.

Skirata might not intend for his kids to treat him like the man who holds their lives in his hands and can drop the guillotine anytime he damn well pleases, but as long as he doesn’t have to acknowledge his own place in the gross power imbalance he sure is content to benefit from it. Which means! Getting back to the point:

A watered down version of the above seems to extend to all the clones, to an extent. He didn’t expect the Nulls to ever fire on him (”...turned his back on them for a few moments, unafraid...”), so he expects the same from all the kids he raised, even though he’s taught them to do the exact opposite. Even though he tells them to do the exact opposite. The Nulls at least (”at least”) have been allowed to think of themselves as “Skirata’s private army” and therefore know what’s actually expected of them, but the commandos don’t have the same benefit here. Skirata raised them one way, has trained them all to be one way on pain of death, but has all along seemed to be operating under the assumption that they’ll just magically toss that out the window when the time comes, entirely of their own accord, since he seems to be operating under a gross misunderstanding of what exactly a healthy parent-child relationship looks like. Whatever he says about his discomfort with “being a god”, he clearly expects an absolute Skirata/buir-first sort of zealous devotion from his “children” as a matter of course, and is taken completely off guard when he doesn’t get it.

Fi was in a no-win scenario the second Skirata went into that building, basically.

#clonecumber rereads repcomm #kal skirata critical #republic commando #repcomm

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