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#so of course then i said yes and i slept through my commute to and from all of that week
deeisace · 3 years
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I never watched Supernatural passed uhhh an season finale maybe or like y'know a big bit, where the world was ending and they were in a church? Outside a church and the sky was falling?
I feel like that could be any one'v em
Like, there was Cain? And that big knife made out of a jawbone but like badly? Thing didn't even look sharp but the guy killed so many other guys, wth. I was passed the whole of that, I feel like
Anyway I always see a whole bunch of supernatural stuff on my dash still, I sorta want to go back and watch the first episode?
Idk I will, I have Primeval to watch yet, and line of duty I think it's the last episode tonight? It was interesting I guess, that is the sort of shows I watch sometimes, but I'm mostly watching it to have smth to talk to my boss about on delivery shift days :/
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tscmu · 3 years
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Some headcanons for the Hq boys and how they propose to their s/o?
HI YES THIS IS THE KIND OF STUFF I LOVE WRITING ABOUT PLS okay so u didnt really specify which boys so im gonna go for ones that i can picture proposing that sounded weird ok-
characters; koushi sugawara, satori tendou, kenma kozume, osamu miya + tooru oikawa oK LETS GO
koushi sugawara
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- pls he’d make it so heartfelt and meaningful HHH I LOVE HIM~ - he’d want to make you feel how much he loved you, like actually feel it in your heart - i feel like he’d tell a FEW people, probably only get daichi to help AHAHAH - bruh asahi would probably have a mental breakdown and tanaka would snitch💔💔 - but he’d have an idea of what you both wanted i think, you wouldve spoken it over before defos - he’d want it to not be that public, just the two of you - so it’d be at like a hiking trail you both go on or something, a place that means loads to both of you but isn’t there for the world to see - and then...…came the day - he knew how much you picked up on little details so he had to be sneak sneak ten thousand™ - “hey, wanna go out on that one walk up *insert name of place idk*? ok ok ok i’ll get ur coat sugar” - EEEEEEEEEEE - he was trying his absolute best to keep it together - he knew you’d most likely say yes, so he wasn’t TOO scared, but it was still SCARY LIKE- - and then u got to the place he wanted to propose - it was this place where you always stopped, where there was a little bench (with your initials STILL carved into it from all those years ago) and it looked out over a nice view - “ooh, can we stop here again!” “u-huh i was actually gonna ask-” - bro he almost forgot the speech daichi read over to him about 20 times - but HE DID IT WOOOO - he didn’t want to make a MASSIVE deal out of it, the wedding would be more important to him but he still wanted to make you know how much he adored you - speech included lots of memories dating even back to before hed even SPOKEN to you i stg this man - AND U SAID YES!!! u have no choice. u did.
satori tendou
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- i feel like he’d be kINDA similar to suga?? - a little less caring - he’d never actually pictured himself getting married tbf- - he never thought he’d actually find the right person so he just....gave up idk - BUT THEN YOU CAME INTO HIS LIFE- - even with you he hadn’t really thought about marriage, he was just focused on having fun with you, but then ushijima was like ‘...so, tendou. when is the wedding commencing between you and y/n.” and he just- - it was actually when they were sitting there he started to plan it - ushijima would SEEM like the worst person to go to, but he was actually quite good at this stuff - so in about 2 hours sat at the back door of tendou’s work, they had sketched out a sort of plan on the back of a spare napkin - there was one main thing he knew he wanted to talk about - how you always stuck by him, no matter what he did - he thought he’d seriously fucked up, and you would be back at his door the next day, smiling and chattering about this new café you heard opened down the road - god, he was terrified to even mention paris to you, but you were so up for the idea, it took him by shock - he didn’t take you for granted - so for once, he wanted to make you feel loved - they couldn’t think of a place to take you for ages, but then it hit them - you and tendou always went to wakatoshi’s games, ever since high school you both always made the commute if you had the time - and ushijima had a game coming up in two weeks...…. - when he mentioned it OFC U WERE DOWN PLS, you loved going back to japan - like ofc france was incredible but......... it was just lovely to see everyone again ;-; - since youd been there so much, you basically just got to stand right at the side of the court AHAHAH - so they won the game. obviously. its ushi and kags we’re talking abt here. are you kidding. then tendou started acting weird, which made u hella sus - it was the first time in what felt like years you’d seen him so...nervy - he kept fumbling over his words, you had to yell at him to speak up - but eventually he did it - he spoke abt how much you meant to him, how you made him more comfortable in his own body, how you stuck by him through everything - AND U SAID YES. AGAIN, U HAVE NO CHOICE. - and yes ushi and kags started cheering and the news outlets put u on the news i dont make the rules ok
kenma kozume
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- ok mans is TERRIFIED - he’d quite genuinely never thought about marriage, throughout his years with you by his side it just...never crossed his mind - but it was when you were lying in bed one night, his arm dangled over you as you both drifted in and out of sleep - and it just hit him - why the fuck were you both still like this? - marriage was something you always expressed a love for, when kuroo got married you were basically in a trance the whole time - how was he so unaware? - people described kuroo’s proposal as pretty much perfect, he’d always been good at reading his partner, so he just used that knowledge to make something he knew they’d like - so, to kenma’s extreme distaste, he went to kuroo - oh my god kuroo fucking c r i e d - kenma was finally ‘growing up’ - so after about an hour of kuroo sobbing, they finally got down to business - after lots of.. lets say elaborate ideas from kuroo, and lots of no's from kenma, they finally came to a sort of compromise - since you and kuroo worked in the same department, he would text you on saturday simply asking if you wanted to catch coffee and talk about that one assignment - obviously, you said yes - not thinking anything of it, you just pulled on a jumper and jeans AHAH- - then you notice,,,why tf is he taking u to a beach at 7pm in march???? - #serialkillerkurooheadcanons - but u see kenma and ur like... wtf have u gotten yourself into- - have they been possessed?? who knowz - and then u get BLINDFOLDED LIKE WHAT - but then u snap back down to earth like why would they kidnap u- - as kuroo takes it off, kenma’s quite literally shaking - poor babie - he never really knew how to explain his thoughts properly, so the speech wasn’t anything extremely dramatic and/or romantic - but he did in a way tell you how much you meant to him - he spoke abt how you boost his confidence, have always been there whenever he needed you, and how you seem to always understand him when he’s being at his most blunt - therefore he thinks you’re his soulmate - PLSPLSPL IM CRYING
osamu miya
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- i think he always knew he wanted to marry you - atsumu always embarassed him about it- - it got to the point you didn’t actually think he’d propose, you would just wake up one day and a wedding dress would be on the door - but it got to the point where tsumu was mentioning it significantly more when you went over for dinner - mama miya was always telling you how happy she was that samu picked you - even your own parents were being oddly warmer towards samu, whenever they phoned they asked how he was, etc etc - so you knew something was up - samu was always really polite to your parents, asked their permission before he even took you out on a date - ironic because you lived together but still- - so turned out, he actually mentioned proposing to you to them - they adored him for gods sake so of course they said yes - then tsumu thought he was acting weird, so he told his side - jesus christ they freaked out - his parents were always nervous about atsumu, who slept with random people on the weekends, and hadn’t been in a proper relationship since middle school - you were basically their god send AHAHA - so it was a massive deal when he wanted to marry you - it would appear that he didn’t really care, but in honesty it meant the wholeass world to him - like suga, he’d go for a location that meant a lot to both of you - christmas was a huge deal for both your families, they both came together and you had an incredible time - and last year some of the jackals came over, which was just hilarious - so what better time than christmas with your loved ones around you??? - it started off like a normal christmas, you had an incredible dinner ( cooked by none other than osamu ((with atsumu and bokuto attempting to sabotage it but just burning their hands on the pot)) ) then all played some games - but it was when you were all watching the basic christmas tv programmes when the atmosphere... changed - everyone was looking at you and samu, even sakusa looked excited - it was when his father muted the tv, and samu took your hand, your heart was basically beating out your chest. - he spoke about how he felt like, for the entirety you’d been together for, every day he seemed to fall more in love with you. you were like his rock, when things were even a bit off he could just come to you and you’d automatically make him happier even just by looking at you - bruh bokuto and hinata were sobbing in the corner
tooru oikawa
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- surprising, but he never thought about marriage - he just kind of assumed he’d be one of those people that would be in a relationship for like a week then just.. move on to another person idk - that was until he ran into you - everyone, even his own parents, said he was a different person when he started dating you - it was ironic, you were quite similar to him - yet you made him rethink his fucking morals  - it was sappy asf - ANYWAY BACK TO THE TOPIC AT HAND - he took this proposal really seriously, he wanted it to be the best moment of your whole life - until the wedding ofc ofc - since you’d basically changed him as a person, he wanted this to just show his appreciation for everything you’d ever done for him - he wanted you to feel his love - and so he set about preparing a good proposal - he’d be like osamu, and definitely ask your parents first - your parents loved him anyway, they thought he was the best thing that’d happened to you for a long while - he basically knew what he wanted to do - nothing too public, but nothing too quiet - whats the point of proposing if some people dont see am i right??? - sometimes when you both either a) needed a break or b) you both had a period of time where you were free, you both just booked an impromptu holiday AHAHHA - #richkidtingz - so obvs he had to do it on one of them... it was ur thing after all?? - it was when you walked in the door, face red, and flopped down on the sofa next to him, he grasped the opportunity - “..got any spare holidays from work?” - you quickly went on a travel agent website and booked a three day holiday to brazil, leaving the next morning - it was one of your favourite places to just escape to, so it made sense for him to propose there tbf - it was as you both woke up the first morning there, still sleepy from the night before, you grinned at eachother. - “hey.. get ready quick, i wanna do something.” “wHAT-” - he didn’t actually know where to do it, he just called a taxi and asked for your favourite high street HAHAH - after about an hour of browsing around shops, your hand never out of his, you finally asked ‘what did you want to do?’ - his breathing almost stopped i stg, he didn’t realise how scared he was - but then... HE DID IT POGGERS - he stuck to what he knew he wanted to speak about, making you sob in the process ofc - and even all the locals congratulated you!!!
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HI THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRY BUT I LOVED WRITING IT PLS!! THANK U FOR REQUESTING da box is always open mwah
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kisskissbanggang · 4 years
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What You Don’t Know
[15Min Read/4.5K Words - College AU - Jisung x Female Reader - NSFW/Smut, 1/3 Plot - Femdom, Dom/Sub, Finding Kinks, Hair Pulling, Sub Awakening, Drinking Buddies, Friends to Lovers(?)]
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It's not like you hated Jisung when you met him. It wasn't like you liked him, either. Really, you didn't anything Jisung the first time your friends invited their new roommate out for drinks. All Minho had mentioned was he was a bit of a nerd and a bit of an introvert, but he definitely didn't seem that way when you got to the bar after work. Jisung was slamming a shot with your friends and laughing in only the way you can when it's not your first of the night, and you were already vastly indifferent to him. 
The only person who showed any extraneous interest in him was Stephanie, the group’s very own groupie. She'd slept her way through their whole house, starting with Felix back when they still lived in the dorms, and now they could never really shake her. Stephanie was fine, she was pretty and smart, but she didn't bring much else to the table and she certainly never made any efforts of her own to become friends with you as the guys suggested you try yourself at multiple points. Lately, she'd had her eyes set once again on her original goal: Chan, the name on the house’s lease and the first of them to graduate -- but to perpetually no avail. You had to applaud the arrogance in such a venture. Chan would be too busy with work for the foreseeable future to humor a girl like Stephanie, but she tried nonetheless. 
Until Jisung moved in. Now she had her sights set on him, and none of the guys interfered as this near rite of passage took place. Presently, she was sitting hip to hip with him in the booth, completely oblivious to his discomfort and trying hard to crack through his inhibitions enough to do anything resembling flirting. You and Minho had simply watched, amused, judging from the other side of the booth and sipping your drinks. 
What wasn't nearly as amusing was catching sight of your professor's new TA when you walked into the first class of your last college course. Jisung definitely made eye contact with you, but froze in a way that convinced you that he either didn't remember your name or desperately didn't want to socialize with you, both options suiting you just fine. Jisung didn’t say anything during class, he barely interacted with students, and he mostly kept to himself as Professor Brown droned. 
For the first three days. 
Finally, once Friday hit, the boys invited you back to the bar and you knew you shouldn't be surprised to see Jisung there. You and Minho watched as Stephanie tried and tried and tried to get Jisung to dance with her, until she finally gave up and cajoled Felix into doing it. And, once Minho left to get you a second round, you found yourself sitting next to the mousiest, quietest boy you’d ever met. That stumped you, seeing as he was just fine with the guys. You didn't feel jealous because, of course, you didn’t anything Jisung since you knew next to nothing about him, but it was interesting to watch him switch gears from friends to strangers. 
“I liked your outline.”
“What?” You asked, whipping your head around to find Jisung quickly averting his gaze back into his beer. He coughed up a little more confidence. 
“I liked your outline that you turned in.”
You blinked, impressed that he could actually make a move to just be nice to you. “Thanks,” you smiled genuinely, “it’s something I've been thinking of writing for the last year or so.”
“I look forward to reading your draft,” he said with a small grin. You were able to prod him after that, really pick his brain over the better parts of your outline and how to best represent that in your draft. “So,” he began one more beer later, now much more loosened up and relaxing back into the booth seat, “how do you even know these guys?”
“I met Chan in sophomore year,” you thought back, “and we almost got together, but you know Chan. He’s too busy for anything, even then he still was.” Jisung choked on his beer for a second but motioned for you to continue despite his quiet coughing. “So Chan and I are friends, and I sort of just became friends with everyone else, but especially Minho.”
“They’re good guys,” Jisung nodded into his drink. 
“What about you? You just moved in but aren’t you graduating soon, too? How does that work?”
Jisung shrugged. “Tired of the campus apartments and finally had enough money to move out. It’s like a nice transition from college to the real world.”
“So you're enjoying it?”
“Yeah,” Jisung smiled his small smile as he looked at you, “I'm loving living off campus. And it’s great opening up my circle of friends.”
Becoming friends with Jisung was incredibly easy. So now you liked Jisung, but not much else. He was friendly now to the point of occasional annoyance, but who didn’t have their moments? He waved hello during class and would sometimes hand you back assignments with little non sequiturs or drawings scribbled on post-its stuck to the back. Every once in a while, he could be convinced to hang out in the cafe on campus if you caught him walking by. 
It was really easy to be friends with Jisung, until Stephanie decided she was tired of just being friends and wanted to begin her conquest. Now you had to deal with her tagging along everywhere, constantly cooing over Jisung and dressing him up and parading him around. The first time he showed up to the bar with a scarf, you knew better. It was March. You stood up, grandly asking the boys to give you their attention as you made Jisung face you in all his confusion until you whipped his scarf off, revealing a giant hickey the hue of black cherries. The boys all groaned in unison and proceeded to razz Jisung for joining their de facto club all night until, of course, Stephanie showed up. You and Minho grimaced as the night went on and, sure enough, three beers later Stephanie had climbed into Jisung’s lap in the booth and proceeded to make out for twenty minutes. 
You weren’t jealous, of course. You just missed when Stephanie wouldn’t constantly be around. She didn’t even really know how to be with Jisung. Every time he reached his arm under hers to hold her hand, she shuffled him around to put his arm around her shoulder. Every time he went to kiss her cheek, she insisted that he kiss her lips. She was always getting him to hold her by the hips or waist when they were out at the bar or at parties, but he always seemed so compliant, so bored, so underutilized. 
One night at your usual booth, you were squished in between Minho and Jisung, fighting with Min over how you were very much a switch, and he was a liar for insisting he wasn't as well. 
“I’m a bottom,” Minho shook his head defiantly. 
“No, you’re not! What about the cute guy from your art class in sophomore year?”
“A phase,” he shrugged. 
“What about the tall girl from the volleyball team last summer?”
“A different phase,” he insisted. 
“You’re a liar and a fiend,” you laughed. “You’re a switch through and through.”
“What’s a switch?” Came Jisung from your other shoulder. 
“What?”
“What's a switch?” He laughed, practically pushing off Stephanie who was still trying to steal all his attention. 
“You know,” you searched for the words in the bottom of your beer, “there’s tops, and bottoms, and switches. Where they can be either.”
“Well Jisung is absolutely a top,” Stephanie insisted, stunned as you laughed out loud. 
“Jisung?! A top?!” 
“Babe,” Minho jokingly warned behind you, trying to calm you down before you got too rowdy. You patted his hand off of you. 
“Jisung is not a top,” you shook your head firmly. “Jisung is a switch, too, and a total sub to boot.”
“Oh, come on!” Jisung laughed boisterously, “And a sub?!” 
“Jisung is not a sub,” Stephanie whined. 
“You’re too busy telling him what to do to notice,” you guffawed, “Jisung is a sub. Watch.”
You curiously watched your own hand move before you even thought, outside yourself as your fingers ran up the back of Jisung’s neck and into his hair to firmly grip him at the root before manhandling him around to look into your eyes as he leaned into you. And you would've been mortified that you made such a rash decision, if Jisung didn’t compound this whole thing by his surprised yelp coming out sounding a lot more like a moan. His bright eyes drank you in as you both sat in the booth, your fingers still tangled in his hair until Minho grabbed your hand. 
“Beer,” Minho grumbled behind you. 
“Beer?”
“Beer, come get more beer with me.” Minho tugged you out of the booth and right into Chan as he finally entered the bar, his work bag still slung over his shoulder. 
“Hey!” He smiled wide as he clapped a hand on Minho’s shoulder. Chan looked at you now, eyebrow raised as he noticed something. “You’re red. What happened?”
“Caligula here just dommed Jisung in the fucking booth, in front of Stephanie.”
Chan blinked and he immediately grabbed your hand. “That’s not great. That means it’s time to get you home.”
You stubbornly shook your head, “No, no no, you just got here.”
“Good. I'll take you home before I start drinking.”
Chan marched you out and expectantly held open the door of his dumpy little commuter car, waiting for you to give up and get in. 
“So you did what now?” He asked as he revved the engine. 
“I don't know!” You insisted. “I was just playing around but I, you know, pulled Jisung’s hair.”
“Hot,” Chan smirked, “but I'm sure Stephanie hates you now.”
“Oh,” you rolled your eyes, “like she didn’t already.” 
“She doesn’t, but you and Jisung are just friends, and you’ve been known to make trouble like this.”
“That was one time!”
“Yes,” Chan nodded exaggeratedly, “and we almost slept together.”
You slouched in the passenger seat, watching streetlights as they passed overhead. 
“You’re right, of course.” Chan remarked offhandedly. 
“What?”
“Jisung is such a sub.”
It was pretty easy to avoid Jisung outside of class, but you did, admittedly, miss him. You kind of missed talking about movies, or sitting and watching dumb videos online, or sharing music back and forth. You sort of missed how he brought you snacks and complimented your outfits and always tried to mind your feelings even when he was critiquing your work. So it sort of sucked when Minho asked you to run to the house before coming to the bar because he forgot his wallet. 
You prayed and prayed and prayed that Jisung was already at the bar, but of course he was the one to open the door. 
“Hey,” he greeted awkwardly.
“Hey,” you stiffly returned his nod, “Minho forgot his wallet.”
Jisung stepped aside to let you into the old house, and was a couple steps behind you as you made your way up the creaky stairs. “Following me?” You laughed. 
“Oh, excuse me,” Jisung giggled, “I’m just trying to get back to my room to finish cleaning.”
“You? Cleaning? Lies.”
Jisung jokingly scoffed and passed you to head into the door opposite Minho’s. You set about looking for the lost wallet, finally finding it having fallen off his nightstand and almost under the bed. You stood up, dusting yourself off and cracking your back before you turned, gasping to see Jisung in the doorway. 
“Is it dumb if I say I missed you?” He admitted, almost shy with his small smile. 
You jokingly gasped. “How dare you have emotions?”
“Because I did,” he shrugged. “I've missed you. Just thought you should know.”
“Oh, Jisung,” you grinned affectionately, “I missed you, too. Hurry up with your cleaning and we can go to the bar together.” You squeezed his hand as you passed him in the doorway, taking a quick second to toss your arms around his shoulders and give him a quick hug. 
The hug lingered, just a beat longer than usual to not surprise you when you noticed Jisung breathing you in from the crook of your neck. You let yourself pet his hair for a moment before you began to pull away, but Jisung caught you, his hand snaking back to yours on his hair. Even as he stood a little taller than you, Jisung’s eyes were bright as they silently implored you, and you couldn’t keep resisting the curious urge you were feeling. 
Your fingers wove into Jisung’s hair, letting him feel everything before you firmly gripped him by the root again and pulled him in, making him have to hold back where he was, leaning in from the door frame and his lips hovering moments away from yours. And then you came back to your senses. 
“Wait,” you croaked, quickly relinquishing him and dipping away, “wait wait wait, I’m sorry, this is great, I want to, but Stephanie -- and you know -- I’ll see you at the bar.”
You spun on your heel to get downstairs and get the hell out, wishing more than anything your racing heart would calm down. 
“I broke up with Stephanie on Tuesday,” Jisung piped up behind you. 
“What?” You stopped in your tracks, your hand still on the railing. 
“I said I broke up with Stephanie on Tuesday.”
You slowly turned to look at Jisung at the top of the stairs. “No one ‘breaks up’ with Stephanie.”
Jisung sighed defeatedly. “I know. I told her I don’t want to fool around anymore and then she said whatever and implied I don’t know how to use my dick.”
“So you chased off Stephanie on Tuesday, but you didn’t tell me?”
“No. None of the guys know. I mean, except for Minho. Stephanie is fine, she’s pretty but talking to her is like trying to make a bonfire out of toothpicks.”
You stared at Jisung’s obliviousness. “You chased off Stephanie on Tuesday,” you emphasized, “and you didn’t tell me?”
Jisung shook his head, big eyes still curiously watching for your reaction, and widening as you stormed back up the stairs. You picked up right where you left off, only now hopping up to wrap your legs around his waist as you tangled your fingers back into his hair and finally kissed him. 
“Should I have told you?” He meekly chuckled against your lips. 
“You should've told me. Bedroom, now.”
“Bedroom? Why the --”
“Bedroom or else I'm going to fuck you right here in the hallway.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Jisung fell back against his bedroom door with you in tow, your fingers gently tugging on his hair as you kissed him hard. Your tongue provoked his own to respond in kind, Jisung hungrily licking into your mouth and his moans sounding more like whines in your ear. He pushed open the bedroom door, sending you both stumbling in as he carried you to bed. You were set down softly and you caught your breath for a moment. You briefly took in the sight of Jisung’s side of the room, smirking at the piles of books and CD’s heavily contrasting with Felix’s much tidier side. 
“This is clean?”
“Well,” Jisung floundered despite (or in light of) your devilish grin, “it’s cleaner.”
Jisung leaned down to join you in bed before you pushed him back off of you. He stood up straight and waited, patiently wondering what you were up to. 
“Strip.”
“What?” 
“Don't pretend like you didn’t hear me,” you laughed, “take off something, and I’ll do the same. Got it?”
Jisung nodded, eyes wide again for a moment before he decided to first kick off his shoes and socks, waiting to see if you followed through. He watched intently as you did the same. Next, he looked you both over before sliding off his jacket and letting it drop to the floor. His Adam's apple bobbed as you did this as well, dropping your jacket off the side of the bed. You watched as Jisung openly switched between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of his jeans, unable to decide just what to do here before settling on his shirt. It was nice seeing him like this, not seeing his body like this for the first time in bed, but playing around in the dimly warm light of his bedroom. His chest was smooth, not sculpted but still defined, and the faint lines of his hips leading your eyes down to his jeans before you remembered how the game was supposed to work and to slip your top off as well. Jisung watched, caught up in the way you undressed, in the way you looked as you unclipped your bra for him and dropped that off the side of the bed, too. He gulped, almost comically, before he unbuttoned his jeans and dropped them. You didn’t hide how you stared at the growing bulge tenting his briefs as you unbuttoned and slid off your jeans as well. Jisung’s fingers wavered as he went to tug his underwear down over his erection, standing tall and blushing against his neatly trimmed hair. You crooked a finger to him, beckoning him closer as he stood naked before you in the room. 
“You do this part,” you smiled sweetly, laying back on his bed. Jisung nodded and leaned down to slide his warm hands up your thighs and pull your panties down. You gently cupped his face before you couldn't resist tugging on his hair again, loving the soft whines it made him produce, how it made him wince and shiver just a little when you were less intense. Your lips met again as you brazenly reached for Jisung’s rigid cock, massaging his length in your hand as you finally pulled him into bed with you. “So you’re already plenty good at listening,” you teased, “what else are you good at?”
“Whatever you want me to be,” Jisung smiled breathlessly. 
“What did I tell you,” you giggled, “you’re such a sub. Now lie down and call me ma’am again.”
“Yes ma'am.” Jisung eagerly lay down beside you, surprised yet again as you climbed on top of him, the heat of your bodies enough to blanket you in his cozy bedroom. You softly kissed his lips and he watched patiently, obediently, as you kissed his forehead next and moved up to ultimately perch yourself on his chest, your exposed pussy on full display in front of his parted lips. A smirk preceded you pushing Jisung’s head back as he instinctively leaned forward to lick you. 
“Ask first,” you gently warned him. 
Jisung licked his lips, his throat dry from how much he’d already whined for you. “Can I?”
“Can you what?”
“Can I lick your pussy?” 
“I don’t know,” you cracked a mean smile, “can you?”
Jisung threw his head back in the pillow with a laugh. “Come on, please, may I lick your pussy?”
“Yes, baby, lick my pussy.” 
“Yes ma'am.” You stroked your fingers into Jisung’s hair as he closed his eyes and dove into your glistening folds. He more than deserved some encouragement from just how eager he was, moaning as he tasted you and laved at your clit. In fact, he was good enough that you predicted you would have to be careful to not cum too fast. You lightly pulled Jisung off of you, standing up over him and giving him quite the view as you turned around to reposition yourself to face his feet instead. “May I continue?” Jisung breathed, and you were impressed. He just wanted to please you and play by your rules. You couldn’t see a disobedient bone in his body, and if he had one he didn’t give any hints of it. 
“Yes, baby, you can continue.”
Jisung hummed contentedly as he began licking you again, his hands pulling at your thighs as he moaned against your pussy. He jumped as your hand closed around his hard cock again, lightly stroking his length that had the smallest curve upwards. His moans against your clit drove you wild, and it provoked you to stroke him harder until you could hardly stand it. You finally dipped his length into your mouth, stroking his cock as you sucked on him as well. Jisung apparently couldn't control his small thrusts into your mouth until you spanked his thigh to calm him down, and his hushed whimpers were an amazing undercurrent to the room. The faint taste of precum was coating your tongue. All of it -- Jisung’s licking, his whines, his cock in your mouth -- was serving to create an orgasm that you refused to have yet. You dipped Jisung’s hard length deeper into your mouth, almost into your throat, and loving how he had to stop licking you for a moment from the force of his moan before you rolled off of him. 
The both of you caught your breath for a second, chests heaving as Jisung absently reached his hand under yours to interlace your fingers together. You smiled softly, leaving over to kiss his brow. 
“Are you good to keep going?” You asked quietly, almost proud of Jisung’s eager nod. You climbed back on top of him, the entrance of your pussy set right on the head of Jisung’s cock. You could've sworn Jisung held his breath as you firmly mounted him and took his length inside you. He watched, rapt as you took your time rocking your hips on his. “Why aren't you touching me?” You teasingly purred. 
“I'm sorry, ma'am,” Jisung rasped, and quickly set to stroking your clit while intermittently fondling your breasts as you rode him. 
“Is it good, baby?”
“So good,” Jisung choked out between moans. 
“Be grateful,” you gently reminded him. 
“Thank you, ma'am,” Jisung whimpered as your tight depths massaged his length, “thank you for letting me fuck you.”
“Of course,” you smiled warmly. “Now do you think you can make me cum?”
Jisung let out a loud groan at your words, his thumb on your clit becoming a little more earnest. 
“Say it,” you lightly chided as you pinched his hand currently on your tit. You lit up at his small yelp from the pain. 
“Yes ma'am,” Jisung struggled. 
“Louder,” you encouraged. 
“Yes ma'am!” Jisung moaned louder now, his hips now also rolling along with yours to drive his length harder against your spot. 
“Good, baby. Now remember it’s not your turn yet, alright?”
“Yes ma'am,” Jisung groaned, fully wrecked by now as your moans grew a bit more desperate. 
“Fuck me, Jisung,” you mewled, “fuck me and make me cum.”
“Yes ma'am,” Jisung breathed, his other hand now holding onto your thigh as he bounced you hard on his cock in tandem with his stroking thumb. He watched, enraptured, as you threw your head back and came with a cry, your pussy clenching and shuddering around his throbbing cock. 
You took a moment to breathe and come back to earth, the thin sheen of sweat on your brow likely matching Jisung’s as you collapsed onto his chest. “Ready to keep going?” You panted. 
“Are you?” Jisung chuckled. “You just orgasmed, after all.”
“That’s when it’s best,” you assured him with a grin as you absently stroked his chin. “You’re doing so good. I feel so good. I need you to finish.”
“Yes ma'am,” Jisung nodded gravely. “How do you want me?”
You leaned over to kiss his cheek as you reached for his hand and pulled him over to face you, ultimately pulling him up and between your legs on the bed. “What a quick learner,” you praised, “you’re so well-behaved. Now fuck me. I bet you're cute when you cum.”
Jisung shivered at the condescension as he buried his leaking cock inside you. He already filled you out so well, so satisfyingly, but you wanted to see how far he could be pushed. 
“Come on,” you taunted, “don’t be afraid to get a good angle. Actually fuck me.”
“Yes ma'am,” Jisung groaned, invigorated to hoist one of your legs up to drive into you deeper. Actually, after a few thrusts like this, Jisung paused, grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, and gently manhandled you to slide it under your ass. With this improved angle, Jisung got your leg back up and easily slid back inside you, the proudest grin on his exhausted face as you cried out and gripped the sheets from the way he filled you up now. In fact, he was hitting your spot in a way you hadn’t encountered much, in a way that could maybe make you cum again if you weren’t so worn out. “Please ma'am,” Jisung begged sweetly, “may I cum?”
“Yes, baby,” you pleaded, “please cum.”
“Yes ma'am--!” Jisung grunted out a strangled groan as he clutched onto you, bucking hard into you and screwing his eyes shut as he came. 
It was Jisung’s turn to collapse onto you and suck in lungfuls of air, his cock still throbbing deep inside you with your legs finally easing back against the bed as you held him close. 
“That was so good,” you softly praised, kissing the top of his head where he lay on top of you. “Have you ever done anything like that before?”
“Never,” Jisung exhaled a chuckle onto your chest, his breath lightly tickling your skin. “Never eaten pussy before, either.”
“What?!” You blurted. “You had me fooled. Was it good?”
“So good,” Jisung laughed softly against you. “You taste amazing.”
“And how was it? Letting someone have control?”
“Everything I didn’t realize I'd been daydreaming about for years. I expected you to be rougher, honestly.”
“You should take it slow,” you shook your head. “Besides, there's always next time.”
“Next time?”
You patted Jisung's shoulder to signal you wanted to sit up and he let you, rolling onto your side. “Yeah, next time. If that’s what you want?”
“Of course I do,” Jisung smiled giddily as he finally rolled out of bed to get dressed again. He threw you your jacket and clothes. “By the way, jog my memory: what did you originally come here for anyway?”
“Minho’s wallet,” you shrugged, pulling it out of your jacket pocket to show him. Jisung blinked hard at it. 
“That’s not Minho’s wallet.”
“It isn't?”
“Not his new one, anyway. I saw him put his new one in his pocket on his way out to the bar.”
You thought hard about it before sighing out a laugh. “He's waiting for me to say something, then. Do me a favor and don't mention this at all when we go to the bar.”
Jisung cracked a sly grin for you. “Yes ma'am.”
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justatiredghost · 3 years
Text
Living for the Moment Ch19
A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other? Read More AO3
-
The problem with coming to a sudden stop after burning himself up the way Klaus had been lately was the loss of adrenaline. That had really been the only thing keeping him going. Well, that and the drugs. Thankfully he still had some of those in his system so the ghosts were leaving him alone, because the inevitable crash wiped him out completely. He didn’t have the strength to keep his eyes open anymore let alone enough to hunt down another contact to resupply.
There were a lot of things Dave had said that he wanted to comment on, mostly to ask what was wrong with him, but he just couldn’t right now. None of this felt real. He’d never had someone so determined to stay in his life, and all he could do was wonder how long until he came to his senses. But that was a problem for future him. As most things were. Right now, Klaus just wanted to sleep.
Not that he got much before they were both jolted awake by a car backfiring. The early commuters were likely out, so they had to leave, but Klaus felt so much worse than he had before. The exhaustion, the aches and pains, the ugly bruise welling up on the side of his face where he’d been punched, and to top it all off, he was pretty sure he had a fever.
“Hey, you okay?” Dave asked when he noticed, and of course he had to be all sweet, rubbing his back and everything.
“Oh yeah, sure, all good here,” Klaus said, trying to suppress a violent shiver at the early morning wind icy cold now that Dave wasn’t pressed up against his side.
“Shit, I didn’t give you my cold, did I?”
“What can I say? Petty theft is one of my charms,” Klaus joked, because he didn’t like how worried he looked.
“I wish I could repay the favor and find a place for you to warm up and sleep it off, but— hang on, I have an idea. Come with me?”
Dave stood and offered his hand, and Klaus considered it. He thought about trying to ditch him again, or just refusing to move. But he was too tired to be stubborn and petty, so he decided it would be easier just to go along and he let himself get pulled to his feet.
Usually, Klaus would be more nosey about this, but when Dave left him outside the shitty motel, he just stood there and waited while he went inside to talk with someone. He surprised himself, honestly. He must be really bad off. At least Dave didn’t keep him waiting long.
“Wow, you really do look like shit,” Dave said when he returned, actually able to get a good look at him now that the early morning sun was starting to make its appearance.
“Still hot though, right?” Klaus said.
“Mmm, feverish and attractive,” Dave joked. “You might be overdoing it a little, might want to tone it down a bit.”
“Have you met me?” Klaus replied.
“Well,” Dave continued, unlocking one of the motel room doors on the first floor. “The good news is, a buddy here owes me a favor. She said we can have this room, but gotta be out of here by tomorrow evening.”
“She is a saint,” Klaus said, stumbling inside after him. “I am going to take a 6 hour long bath, so if you need to pee, you better do it now.”
“No, go ahead,” Dave laughed. “I’m actually going to step out for a bit. I have some other stuff I need to take care of. But I look forward to seeing what you look like all pruny.”
Klaus waved him off with an annoyed sound. He turned on the water as hot as it would go and was ready to soak up all that warmth and wash away the grime. By the time he finally climbed out of the bath, he didn’t feel so frozen. Sure, he still felt like shit, but it was better than nothing.
-
For once, Klaus slept like a rock, so he wasn’t all that surprised when he came to, desperate for a glass of water, to discover Dave was asleep in the other bed by the door. On the way back from the bathroom with a cup, he had the sudden impulse to crawl into Dave’s bed and join him, but tried to block that out and just go back to sleep.
The next time he woke up, it was to hear the shower running. Dave was no longer in the other bed. A midnight shower wasn’t all that strange, though, so he let himself fall back to sleep. But when he woke up again a little over an hour later and the shower was still going, Dave still missing, he started to get a little worried.
Well, more curious than worried. Yes, this definitely wasn’t worry. These types of places weren’t really known for having unlimited hot water and he actually wondered if Dave had been the one to ditch him this time. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stumbled out of bed, pausing at the bathroom door to knock.
“Dave? You alive in there?” he called, but didn’t get a response. “I’m coming in. I swear I’m not doing this just to check you out naked.”
As he slowly opened the door, he noticed that there wasn’t as much steam as he thought there would be. The mirror wasn’t even fogged up. When he turned to the tub, the curtain was pulled back just enough that he could see Dave sitting there, letting the water fall over him, still wearing boxers and a t-shirt. His arms were raised as if to protect his head, fingers digging into his hair.
“Dave,” Klaus called again, concerned now.
Dave flinched as soon as he spotted him, but at least he relaxed when he realized it was just Klaus. Then, he scrambled to turn the water off before sitting back, out of breath and just trying to regain his bearings.
“Hi,” Dave said guiltily. Then, he looked down at himself and sighed heavily, picking at the way his shirt stuck to him uncomfortably. “Aw, man. We have got to stop meeting like this.”
“Would it help if I also got in with my clothes on?” Klaus offered.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Dave sighed, not completely able to stop himself from smiling despite everything.
“Your loss,” Klaus said with a shrug. “I’m not exactly one to judge, I was in here for a criminally long time earlier, but typically I don’t think showers are supposed to last very long. I’m surprised you haven’t run out of hot water.”
“Ah,” Dave said, looking away. “I think I may have, actually.”
“May have what?”
“Run out of hot water,” Dave said, and as if to prove his point, a particularly violent shiver ran through him.
“What the hell?” Klaus said. “You should probably get out of there. Only one of us is allowed to be sick at a time, and I already called dibs.”
He passed Dave a towel as he clambered out of the tub. Then, he left him so he could have a little privacy to change while Klaus wandered around the room in search of any extra blankets stashed away. Dave was already back in his bed when he returned, so he unceremoniously dropped his spoils on top of him before selecting one to unravel sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I swear I don’t take all my showers clothed,” Dave said, forcing a chuckle as he followed suit, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.
“Hey, whatever does it for you,” Klaus shrugged, and Dave smacked him playfully with one of the folded blankets.
“I really am sorry about all this,” Dave groaned after they finished with their work, burrowing deeper into the pile of blankets, still shivering.
“What, hogging all the blankets? I guess I can forgive you.”
“Well, yeah, I guess there’s that now, too,” Dave chuckled. “But I more meant, just, all of this-- my little breakdown. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but I still get flashbacks and nightmares sometimes. Showers help, they can kinda ground me I guess, this one was just particularly bad, I guess.”
“Oh,” Klaus said dumbly, not really sure what to do with all that openness. Except run, but he’d already tried that and failed.
This all hit a little too close to home; the nightmares and the flashbacks, the whispered confessions in a moment of vulnerability. In Klaus’ experience, it never went well. He knew Dave was just like this, so much more open than Klaus could ever imagine being, but it still sent a chill through him.
As irrational as it was, he didn’t want Dave to learn the same way he had. At least Klaus didn’t have any plans to betray him, so he might as well encourage him to let it all out now.
“Do you, like, what to talk about it or something?” he said uncertainly. “I heard it’s supposed to help. I mean, I know that’s rich, coming from me of all people.”
“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” Dave said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ll laugh at me.”
“Okay, well, now you have to tell me,” Klaus said, climbing onto the bed so he was laying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, head in his hands.
“I, uh, went to talk to someone today,” Dave said slowly. “About getting support. For vets.”
“That’s good, right?” Klaus said, trying to be encouraging.
“I guess,” he said, eyes sliding to the side, avoiding Klaus’ gaze. “It’s just frustrating, it feels like admitting defeat. But I can’t even hold down a job, something’s gotta change.”
“That’s the spirit?” Klaus said uncertainly. It wasn’t like self-improvement was his specialty. But he could definitely understand the guilt that went with asking for help. Which is why he never did.
“Unfortunately, it’s bringing up a few too many memories. And, when I’m stressed, I have nightmares, so that doesn’t help,” Dave added lamely, trying to laugh a little.
“There, there,” Klaus said, sitting up so he could reach out and pat his shoulder. Taken by surprise, Dave burst out laughing and Klaus couldn’t help but grin, pleased he could still make him laugh, even when he was upset. “If it helps, wearing clothes in the shower is nowhere near the top 10 weirdest things I’ve found people doing in the bathroom,” Klaus said unhelpfully.
“Still,” Dave said, before changing the subject. “But enough about me, how are you feeling? Sorry again for giving you my cold.”
“I might learn to forgive you one day,” Klaus said dramatically, hand on his forehead.
“Hey,” Dave said. “I was thinking, and I realized that I just kinda made you come with me here, sorry about that, too.”
“Yes,” Klaus said, again playing it up. “How dare you force me to sleep in a proper bed for a change?”
“You know what I mean,” Dave said with a weak smile. But then his voice turned serious. “I know I was probably a bit too much before, probably creepy too, tracking you down like that. I just want you to know that, if you really don’t want to be here, I’d understand.”
“What’s the matter, starting to have second thoughts?” Klaus asked. “I am a handful. Being friends with me is gonna be a nightmare”
“Seriously,” Dave persisted. “How about we meet up in a few days and talk it out? I’ll have at least a few more answers once the VA get back to me. I know everything feels impossible right now, but being your friend is worth it, to me. But if all of this has put you off, then feel free to make a break for it. I’ll leave you alone.”
“Sure,” Klaus said distractedly.
Dave nodded and turned away, pulling the blankets up nearly over his head.
Klaus had never been told he was worth it before. He’s never been worth anything and he didn’t know how to feel about all of this. He thought he could feel something melting in his core, a warmth reaching him that he never expected to feel. But there was guilt, too. So much guilt.
How was this even happening? Dave was a pretty smart guy, but he just seemed to be ignoring all the warning signs. Maybe Klaus had tricked him into this somehow. He was very good at manipulating people. But, for some reason, Dave kept coming back, there was no denying that. He wanted to trust him, to believe in Dave even if he couldn’t believe in himself, but he knew how dangerous that was.
Klaus felt cold, again, when he went back to his own bed, moving automatically. Mostly he just felt numb, completely drained. And he was more lost than ever. Maybe he was just too sober, maybe drugs would wipe it all away and remind him who he was. Or, maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d wake up one day and hate himself, wondering what would have been.
Hating himself wasn’t anything new, but when he glanced over his shoulder to see Dave’s curly hair sticking out between blanket and pillow, he so desperately wanted to give hope a try.
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burnedbyshoto · 4 years
Text
scoops
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— In what was to be a summer of excitement, love, and adventure, you’re doomed to a summer working a job to pay some bills. But hey, who said romance still wouldn’t find a way to work while working at Scoops Ice Cream Parlor? —
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pairing: kaibara sen x reader
warnings: fluff, cursing, modern!au, ice cream shop!au
word count: 6,361
a/n: this is for the bnharem summer collab!!!! I am so very tired, when am I not at this point... um... yes, kaibara is def my fav class 1-b boy, sorry not sorry.
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The best part about summer… well, you really couldn’t begin to list what you loved about it. There was no bad part about summer. Sure, the days were hot and humid, but they were long and bright for so long you could go and do things for countless hours. You were able to stay out in the sun and feel the heated rays against your skin — road trips with friends and days when you had no sleep and those when you only slept.
Summer was indeed the best time of the year.
This summer was supposed to be the best, with your saved money from working at the student store for this last semester, you were ready to go places with your friends. Explore the unknown all in the name of youth.
There indeed wasn’t anything better about this time of the year than that. 
Cute clothes, cute bathing suits, and cute accessories, as you trailed out of your classroom with your final finally done and completed, you were ready to zoom on toward home.
This was going to be the best summer ever, you thought, your heart racing in anticipation at the thought of your best friend pulling up at your home with a car full of friends. Your parents waving you off as you descended into the purpling and pink sky with nothing but an uproarious scream and celebration.
You really hoped you’d find someone attractive… maybe a summer fling?!
You giggled at the thought, your face warming even more under the deep sun rays, your body avoiding passing commuters.
This was going to be your summer!
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“You’re… you’re kidding me,” you deadpanned staring at your mother, who was in a full-body cast. 
She looked at you with a sheepish emotion on her face, her eyes full of sorrow yet no pain. The moment you had gotten home and had switched from your finals outfit to something more practical, you had gotten a phone call from the hospital. It seems that your mother, in all her clutz, had tumbled down the staircase at her work. Through this, she managed to break both arms and legs, two ribs and broke her collarbone. 
“M… Mom,” you groaned at the way she was laughing in total embarrassment; after all, miraculously, she was in little pain despite being hospitalized. “How did this happen?! Why did you — oh my god…” 
“There was a mosquito flying by my head, and well… I tripped and fell,” she laughed loudly, smiling in gratitude when the nurse came to adjust her pillows. 
“Why were you even leaving the office?! It isn’t even lunchtime for you, and you always eat lunch on the roof?” you questioned more, your arms folding across your arms. 
“Well, um… you know how there have been cuts at the office, I just… I was let go,” she whispered in a small voice, face twisted with embarrassment and shame. While you wanted to feel sorry for your mother because after all, she had suffered horrendously, there was a quick realization of what those words meant.
Medical insurance was now gone.
“How are we going to pay for this?!”
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Having to wave your friends away with tears rolling down your face was hard. Their faces sullen at the fact that you had handed over your entire job savings to begin paying off the massive debt your mother built in a single minute. You also knew you couldn’t return to your job at the university, they were closed during this time.
There wasn’t much you could even find while looking around. Your resume wasn’t strong enough to earn jobs that would help your future career, not when competing against graduate students. The local shops and malls were already filled to completion; they always prioritized the highschoolers anyways. 
You had almost thought it was pointless to even be searching until you stumbled across a corner ice cream parlor. It was the closest ice cream parlor to your house, and if you thought hard enough, you definitely remembered coming when you were small, and fortunately for you, they were hiring on the spot.
So here you were, in an old t-shirt, shorts, an apron fastened on, and your hair free from your face. The owner of the ice cream parlor showed you around, pointing at the different things that were lying about. He was a simple tour guide, he had told you, a simple introduction to what was lying about. Your coworkers would be the ones to teach you how to create the unique menu items, teach you how to work behind the scenes. 
The smile on your face was stiff and very unnatural as he showed you about, stories of the old employee he had that had quit on him because they were moving suddenly. It was apparently a struggle for him to find willing workers at this time. He was also sure to name off the three other employees that worked here, and by the sounds of it, two of the three names were retired people who were so bored that they sought out a low-stakes job.
“Ah, there he is!” he exclaimed, his hands thrusting outwards as a tall, dark-haired man emerged from the back, a gallon of ice cream in his hands while he looked lost in thought. “This is Kaibara Sen! My youngest…er, second youngest employee now! He will be handling your training, he is very competent and well… a much better explainer than I am!” 
You tried not to stare too much at the man, but he was for lack of a better term, beautiful. Dark hair, brown eyes, and a look on his face that just told you he definitely did not want to be here… it was basically love at first sight for you. 
“Kaibara, this is y/l/n, our newest member of the family here at Scoops!” the owner exclaimed, his cheeks warm and his body brimming with excitement. “Please explain everything, I have to go now! My daughter should be out of school, and I have to go pick her up!”
You watched in silent awkwardness as the man picked up all his items and rushed out of there without a single word. Smiling awkwardly, you returned your attention to Kaibara, who was studying you without saying a word. Your smile began to pinch at your cheeks, the strain of the faux smile beginning to tire you out to completion while he changing the empty gallon of ice cream for the new one — you had to will yourself from staring at the very, very nicely toned arms of his. 
“Hold this,” he spoke, his voice low and flat, almost entirely passive and bored while he pushed the empty cardboard into your arms. You hitched a breath in your surprise, your head nodding in your overall confusion. 
The tub was cold in your arms, contradicting the overall harsh rays of the sun. You watched as he turned on his heel, moving back to the door, and you stayed put, your eyes wide in confusion and your increasing inability to stop checking him out. “Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to follow?”
Blood flooded to your face in your embarrassment, your head dropping while you rushed after him.
Needless to say, your first day on the job was an interesting one.
While your first impression of Kaibara was that he was hot enough to melt you into a puddle, you found yourself at a quick and immovable realization that he was an overall dick. He was disgustingly bland, his tone only riling you up when he crudely pointed out your mistakes and issues. He had explained to you in five minutes how the entire ice cream parlor worked — yes, in five minutes, and yes, he expected that you memorized and retained all that information.
Refill the ice cream when there’s only five centimeters left. Don’t touch the soft-serve ice cream machine because it often broke. Don’t flirt with any customers, don’t destroy the whip cream swirls on the ice cream sundaes. Don’t ever go into the freezer without someone knowing, don’t forget to clean the counters every hour if it isn’t that busy, don’t forget… well, you got it. There were many don’t’s in his vocabulary surrounding the rules and regulation of this ice cream parlor. Furthermore, he had thrown you to the wolves because the moment he finished up the rules here at Scoops where they ‘live to bring a lick of happiness one scoop at a time,’ a customer had walked in and of course, because beginners luck was not a thing, ordered the hardest thing on the menu.
Your back had never been sweatier, and your arms trembled as he practically breathed down your neck. There was no stopping this incessant mother birding of his, and your ears seared with heat when he called you out for every mistake you made.
“I thought I told you to not do that!” he muttered just loud enough for the customer to ask with worry if everything was okay. 
The second you had handed of the quad-layered ice cream sundae that was most definitely a kickstarter to diabetes did you almost collapse in gratefulness of being done with that wretched thing. The customer did, however, frown significantly at the sight of the very ugly sundae, and you wanted to collapse in your failure. 
The two of you were not… compatible coworkers, and that was apparent as the summer sun while the day went on.
He ridiculed your every technique, he frowned at the way your voice pitched when you welcomed customers, scoffed when you were overly sweet because he would love to see you being that kind in a month, and he glared a hole through your head the moment you tried to socialize while there was nothing to do.
So when the summer sun had set for the night and your arm burned from the repetitive and laborious action of scooping ice cream all day, you walked out of Scoops with a wavering bottom lip. This was going to be a long summer.
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“For someone who’s been here a whole year more than me, I’d’ve thought you were better than this,” you sang, pocketing the extra cash you got as a bonus for the fantastic and helpful review you had gotten on Yelp. Yes, America’s disaster of an app had finally made its way to Japan, and three weeks ago, your boss said anyone with a useful review on top of a five-star recommendation would get a bonus. You were always getting it. “What was that you were saying when I first began? Don’t suck? Hm, well, I think you need to get that under control on your own part.”
Kaibara rolled his eyes so hard you swore you could hear him do it. You tried not to allow the prideful smirk to become too apparent while you went about your shift reorganizing the front of the store. You had just managed through a demanding crowd of children, couples, and the elderly, and it was a mess. 
It had only been the two of you today, too (the owner only worked the register, leaving the two of you to make the orders). While there was no getting along for either of you, there was a good work ethic between you that allowed you to work efficiently together. But of course, the teasing and taunting from your voice while you graciously took the extra cash made Kaibara seethe.
It was an unspoken, spoken competition between the two of you, and to make things worse for the environment between everyone, the both of you sorely got along. 
He had called you incompetent, you called him lazy. He called you a useless employee, you called him fifth-rate at best. There was just a lot of tension between you and the man you had once thought was painfully attractive.
“It doesn’t count when you beg customers for the comment. Of course, they’re gonna take pity on you and your ass life; why do you think people give spare change to the homeless?” Kaibara smoothly stated, his fingers digging the cleaning rag harder onto a piece of fallen dried, sticky ice cream.
You nearly cracked the waffle cones in your gloved hands.
“At least I’m the one with the extra cash in your pocket!”
“It fell out actually, free change now,” Kaibara stated, pointed at the rolled money on the floor and quickly scooping it from the floor well before you could snatch it. 
Your face twisted when you ended a near chest to chest with him, his eyes seeming to read you entirely while you definitely met his gaze, yet also managed to look cities away. Your upper lip curled with your frustration, and you shoved his chest, grabbing at the money in his hand.
Unfortunately for you, he was both quicker than you, stronger than you, and taller than you. He merely rose his clenched fist well above his head and smirked at how your face blanched at his actions.
“You’re a fucking dick!” you yelled, your hands latching onto his bicep and pulling down with all your strength. “Give me my damn tip!”
“It was on the ground, it’s finders keepers,” was his smooth response, his arm somehow freakishly strong enough to fight off your full weight and stay defiantly up. 
Well, you definitely understood why no one liked working with the two of you, you were both annoying together. 
“Kaibara Sen, if you don’t give me back my damn money right now, I will��” you were interrupted by how his lips pulled past his teeth into a fierce, biting grin.
“You’ll what? Punch me? It hasn’t hurt the last ten times you’ve tried.” He taunted you with no mercy, his head tilting just the slightest bit to further his point and to have your blood pumping yet again.
“That’s only because I wasn’t trying before!” you counter, your fingers pressing into his palm, your nails beginning to dig into his flesh while he tried not to let on that it hurt.
“You’ll have a friend of yours write a five-star review for you, and write a complaint about me?” he asked, bringing back to light the one time that your friends left not one, but fifteen five-star reviews. Of course, a handful of them had also decided to include that they were not happy with the treatment they received from Kaibara — not that it was possible given that they were not anywhere near here. 
“Well, I didn’t know they were going to do that! All I was doing was exchanging stories about how I was working while they were all out having fun!” you attempt to defend, but it sounds weak because well, it happened.
“Ah, okay, I’ll try to remember that when I have my friends doing the same to you,” Kaibara sarcastically smiled, his arm finally dropping so that his fist was in your face, but it still remained defiantly closed. “I mean it’s only fair, and they didn’t abandon me on a whole summer long getaway!”
“I told them it was okay to leave, you jerk!” you grit out, your fingers trying to slip under his so that you could rip the money from his hand, but yours were beginning to sweat.
“Ouch, a jerk? Don’t hurt my feelings, please y/n, it’s making me tear up,” Kaibara sighed, his eyes very much interested in the way you were failing to get his fingers to open up.
“D-Don’t call me y/n! We are not friends enough for you to try acting casual with me!”
“Should I call you y/l/n-sama instead?”
“W… WHAT?!”
“Yeah, sounded weird to me too. I mean, after all, I don’t garner any respect for you, so why would I use that, to begin with!”
If you were a bird, you were absolutely positive that your feathers would be bristled and standing while you glared up at Kaibara with a near snarl on your lips. He matched your glare, his typically passive eyes ignited while the both of you neared in this hate-filled magnetism. 
“Would you two please stop! This is the time for summer flings! Not swinging fists!” 
The both of you whirled around to see your practically sobbing employer watch on with tears rolling down his face. He had been the most disheartened at the fact that both you did not get along at all, it was his biggest regret he had said many times over. While both of you did not fly twenty meters apart, Kaibara’s fist relaxed, and you managed to retrieve your money back from him with a satisfied ‘hmph’ before turning around.
Really you knew both of you together were insufferable. But to your credit, both of you were always civil in front of the customers. Well, at least polite enough for no one to speak up. But as you returned to your place by the corner to continue cleaning with your rag, you couldn’t help but look behind you at Kaibara, who was also staring back at you.
What an insufferable prick!
He stared at you, his lips pressing into a smile that you refused to admit made your heart hammer just the slightest bit faster in your chest, and the moment he caught on, the smile became a smirk before his tongue stuck out, and his finger pulled at his eye — or in other words, he threw you an Akanbe… well, your boss then had a ten-minute talk about how it was not okay to throw dirty rags at your coworkers.
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It wasn’t that Kaibara didn’t like you.
No, of course not, there was no point in garnering unpleasant feelings towards someone who didn’t matter to him at the end of the day, but sometimes… sometimes he really thought you being a piece of shit just to enact rage and violence from him. After all, as part of working at the ice cream parlor, their break time leisure was always brought with a free sundae with whatever you wanted because you worked, and tips were only really brought in by the rare American tourist.
But you were doing this on purpose. 
“I want to add a caramel and chocolate drizzle, don’t forget to add peanuts… should I get whipped cream??? Is there enough??? I know we used almost half of our weekly supply on one kid?” Kaibara watched as you stroked your chin, ordering your custom-made sundae while you created this sugar-sweet dessert based on what he hated to create. “You know what… yes, I want some whipped cream, but I also thought that you could maybe smash it up like at Cold Stone? It makes it easier to eat.”
“I’ll spit in your ice cream if you make me do that.” Kaibara deadpanned, his fingers twitching on the serving spoons. If he was going to smash your toppings on the counter, he just cleaned, he was going to throw this in your face.
“And violate Healthcode Section 242?!” you gasped loudly, almost offended that he would do such a thing, and he wondered if you were pulling a number out of your ass. “Do it, I dare you! I really would like to have you replaced!”
He watched you triumphantly stick your nose in the air, your lips set in a victorious grin, but he just sighed. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass.”
You seemed to have expected that from him, but you still played it off in a shocked manner with your hands pressing to your cheeks in your horrified expression.
“Oh thank goodness, I thought for a second there you were going to say something horrendously rude!” you laugh, your hands stretching out for your finished sundae, and he watched your tongue wet your lips while you brought it close to you. “My mom tells me that all the time, and she’s still in a full-body cast.”
“And that’s relevant because?” he asked, his eyes blinking slowly, his head tilting in his faux boredom — he wouldn’t admit it, but he was never bored with you around.
“Nope, totally irrelevant! But I figured your life is so boring that my daily news about my bedridden mother must be like what Fashion Week is for Youtubers,” you chide, walking over to an empty table and plopping down on the chair with overdramatic confidence and slight exhaustion.
“I think maybe you should stop talking and eat that ice cream before your break is over.” he returned, his hip pressing into the cold counter while he cleaned up the small mess he had made creating your monster of a snack.
“You’re probably right… your small brain needs a break.”
Your words were nothing new, but he still stared at you with a growing smirk while you brought your spoon of ice cream to your mouth and took your first big satisfying bite… well, that was until you tasted it. “EW! HEY! KAIBARA! THIS IS FUCKING DISGUSTING WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY SUNDAE?!”
“I added cherry sauce.” He shrugged, his arms folding across his chest while your face fell, your spoon digging into the sweet cream to shove the black sauce, which was not chocolate, to the side.
“THAT’S THE—”
“Worst? I know!” Kaibara nearly snorted at the defeated, almost depressing look that overcame his face. He wanted to dig more at you because of that, but was unfortunately interrupted when the front door opened and in came a customer. “Oh, welcome.”
He didn’t want to look away from the fact that you were pouting and eating your sundae still; your guilt of wasting food outweighing your distaste much more. But a weird twist of his stomach made his eyebrows scrunch when he noticed how the incoming customer stared at you. It was a look of interest, and while he didn’t even like you, why was he feeling like this.
He ignored it, shaking his head, he focused on the customer who said they were still looking, and he sighed.
It meant nothing… right?
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Well, it finally happened. 
Today was your day off, but at precisely 12:35 p.m., your phone violently buzzed with an incoming call from your boss. You had been out on the backyards lawn trying to sunbathe with your towel on the dirt floor, trying to live the best summer experience you could. Your music had been blasting, so when the call came, you quickly picked it up to figure who was calling and why.
“Hello?”
“Y/N WE NEED YOU IN THE SHOP RIGHT NOW! THE EVENT IS CRAZY RIGHT NOW, AND THERE’S A LINE OUT THE DOOR! I’LL GIVE YOU OVERTIME JUST GET HERE NOW!”
There wasn’t even a chance to argue, a chance to say you were doing more important things, because the line ended immediately and you groaned loudly. To work it was, it seemed. 
It took you fifteen minutes to get to Scoops Ice Cream Parlor, and you were surprised, to say the least, about how false your boss’s statement was. It wasn’t a line out the door, it was a line that went out the door and wrapped around the block?! 
You locked eyes with Kaibara, who was also apparently called in today, and he merely raised an eyebrow at you before continuing what he was doing. In forty-five seconds flat, you had managed to get yourself ready to assist and were on it. 
It was times like this that everyone was grateful for how efficiently you and Kaibara worked together, as odd as it was. The two of you worked on multiple orders together, passing things off to one another, gathering items, and sharing. It was done wordlessly, effortlessly, and efficiently; it indeed was not a reflection of how you two behaved normally. 
In an hour and a half, the line had finally reached the last ten people, and you could almost cry in relief. 
“Ah! A soft served vanilla ice cream with a chocolate drizzle! Y/n!” your boss commanded, and you nodded, your sweating cheek pressing to your shoulder to wipe whatever you could off. Without a word, you went back to the soft serve machines and without so much of a thought, pulled on the lever. 
You quickly realized that pulling on that lever was a mistake, not a mistake you purposefully made, but a mistake. 
Do not touch the soft-serve machine because it often broke… that’s what Kaibara told you all those weeks ago, but when he meant broken, he didn’t mean it didn’t produce ice cream. No, no, no. That would be too nice by the universe, after all! When he said it broke, you never expected the soft-serve ice cream to begin to pour from the machine, with no stop in sight. 
“OH NO!”
The white vanilla cream poured endlessly from the machine, and you shrieked while trying to keep it on the cone you brought with you, but you were no expert in making those Instagram famous towers. Eventually, you watched in horrific slow motion as the ice cream tipped over and splattered on the floor, and in your moment of not knowing what to do, you attempted to gather the ice cream in your hands instead of letting it fall to the floor.
“Oh my god, stop! Please stop!” you chanted, your hands jiggling onto the lever hoping that it would make it stop, but it was to no avail.
With every passing second, your arm filled with more ice cream, growing colder and stickier with every moment. 
“What the fuck is taking you so long — oh my god!”
“KAIBARA PLEASE HELP ME!!!!” you sobbed, feeling like a pathetic toddler of all things as your foot desperately tried to drag the trash can near you to keep the building icecream from falling onto the floor, but your legs were too short it seemed. 
“What did you do?!” he hissed, running over slamming the trash can near you, but slipped on the fallen cone and crashed into you. 
Much like how the ice cream cone had fallen in slow motion, Kaibara crashing into you, exploding the armful of ice cream gathered in your arms everywhere, sent you both to the ground. 
“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” you sobbed in your hysteric laughter, the both of you now fumbling on the ground, the ice cream quickly seeping past the threads of the apron to seep into your clothes and burn your bodies slowly. “YOU MADE THIS SO MUCH WORSE!”
“Oh my god, would you stop?! Please stop yelling!”
“Get off me first! You’re so heavy!”
“The floors are so damn slippery, I can’t!”
“Roll off, you idiot!”
It was a chaotic, wild attempt by the two of you to calm down the machine that wouldn’t stop spitting out ice cream until it was empty. While no one else had seen the two of yours struggles to get into your feet (a feat that took twenty minutes and provided hilarious footage for your coworkers who watched it before closing), the both of you couldn’t speak of what happened without feeling like you needed to crumble away. 
Thankfully, both of you were sent home afterward, before the ice cream could glue into your skin. But as you were walking out, your arms not being able to bend at the disgusting horror of the sticky firmness of the dried ice cream on your skin, you were surprised when a hand grabbed your shoulder and stopped you. 
“I wanted to apologize,” Kaibara says the second you turn to look at him. 
“What?” you stupidly respond, your eyes blinking rapidly as if you couldn’t understand him. 
“I wanted to apologize about how I’ve been… how I’ve been behaving. We aren’t really friends, but after all that today, I just… can we start over?”
And somehow those four little words sparked a friendly fire in your core, and your lips stretched into a smile as sweet as the ice cream on your body. 
“Yeah, I think we can.”
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This date was going horribly.
About nine days ago, a customer had walked in, seen you moping with an ice cream sundae made by Kaibara with black cherry sauce, and had asked you out. You were sure what exactly willed you into saying yes; after all, you didn’t know the guy personally, but here you were. Without wanting to seem rude, you definitely thought this date was going horrendously, and you wanted to get out, not that this man noticed anyways.
“Do you want to get some ice cream?” he asked, a smile spreading on his face while both of you exited the movie theater.
You thought about it, Kaibara wasn’t working today if you remembered correctly, and with Scoops being the only ice cream joint nearby, you weren’t about to stroll in on a date with him there. Since the whole broken soft-serve ice cream machine, both of you had taken to be friends like honey and flies. 
The bickering didn’t stop, not one single bit, but the tone and the atmosphere behind the genuine arguments no longer felt like an introduction to some World War and now instead teasing and playing between friends. However, admitting and seeing that you were friends brought up an issue that you never thought was going to happen again — you once more found yourself attracted to the dark-haired man.
Yes, like some overzealous whore, you were out on a date while having very real feelings for your coworker.
But well, going back to whether you should go get ice cream, it would give you yet another reason to speak up at all.
“Sure!”
But of course, summer was not being your friend this summer it seemed, because when he held open the all too familiar front door, and you walked in with a grateful smile. You felt your heart twist and die the second that Kaibara walked out from the back, his already neutral face falling into stony coldness at the sight of you and your date.
“Welcome,” was his unwelcoming call. 
Please let there be some freak accident that causes time to reset so you wouldn’t have to do this, you prayed, trying to calm the blood that threatened to rush to your face while your date began to talk to Kaibara. Your eyes glued immediately over onto the menu as if you hadn’t already memorized everything up there. Still, even with your attention very focused on the menu, you knew by heart already, you could feel those dark, nearly black eyes piercing through you. 
When Kaibara was asked to cover a coworkers shift today, he expected it to be busier than it was today. He guessed that’s just how it was at times when the heat of the summer day failed to make anyone want any ice cream, but while it was nice to get paid without doing much work, it definitely sucked doing nothing. Which is why when the front door chime sounded, he offered to take on the customer… but he didn’t expect to see you here with some random guy. 
He didn’t know why it bothered him really, the both of you were finally getting along superbly but seeing you there next to some guy who was trying to talk about just how amazed he was by all the ice cream flavors and how he met you here soured his mood intensely. At the same time, he continued to look at you. You were staring at the menu; he knew you could recite to the very typo on the board because he had riled you into memorizing it within the first week. 
But when your sheepish gaze met his, Kaibara did not want to admit that the bizarre emotions he was feeling both disappeared altogether and intensified utterly. 
“What d’ya want, y/l/n?” he asked you after taking down this assholes order. He took to your gaze, trying not to have some lame physical reaction to how he felt when your eyes warmed at the sight of him. 
It meant nothing, it meant nothing, it meant nothing. 
“I’ll have the caramel banana sundae,” you ordered with a smile while your date grinned after your selection. 
“You really order the worst things on this menu, don’t you?” he couldn’t help but jab, knowing you would instantly focus on this mindless banter. 
“Kaibara, I swear, say that to my face one more time!” you instinctively yelled. Although you were here on some date, he would confirm later (and would then have to internally admit that he was, in fact, jealous) he liked the fact that you spent the majority of your date in here talking to him.
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Sometimes you really wished that arresting the sun was an actual concept. 
Why in the world was it even legal for the temperature to be 114°F and for workplaces to still be expected to run normally. God, it was so hot that it only felt normal in your ice cream parlor employment that your only moment of grace was when you walked into the back freezers. 
“I think I’m slowly dying,” you whispered to Kaibara while you arranged the ice cream for the waiting customers. 
Today had been reasonably busy, everyone coming in and exclaiming that they needed some ice cream to combat the summer sun, and you always nodded in agreement. But you guessed despite the blistering heat that couldn’t even stay away from the ice cream shop, you appreciated being able to suffer together with Kaibara. 
“If you die and leave me here, I will kill you.” Kaibara’s eyes narrowed at you, and you laughed, shoving him with your shoulder. 
“Good luck!”
You handed the ice cream concoctions to the family and watched as they seem delighted to have it before walking away. 
After a perfect steady flow of customers, the parlor was at the moment empty, and you looked at the different ice cream gallons in search to see which needed to be refilled. You counted five, and you cringed, the both of you had been slacking it seemed. 
“Come help me switch out the ice cream,” you demanded, spinning on your heel and marching off back towards the freezer. 
Since your date, it had been… awkward with Kaibara, you hated to admit it.
The fact that he had seen you on a date was never again brought up, but it seemed that maybe it should have been considering the very awkwardness that bled into your relationship. Sure, he was beyond pleasant with you; as a matter of fact, there was hardly any bickering between the two of you because whenever it started, he would bite his tongue to keep from returning any of your lines — and you knew he had some comebacks. 
You walked into the freezer first, reciting the ice cream flavors that needed to be replaced like a mantra to avoid multiple trips to and from the freezer. With Kaibara coming in behind you, you immediately walked over towards the frozen gallons and began to pull out the flavors that you needed to take. 
“How’s your boyfriend?” Kaibara asked suddenly while you placed two of the gallons onto the floor so that you could grab the other ones. 
You felt your spine stiffen at his words, your eyes wide while you turned behind you to see that Kaibara had also grabbed another two of the flavors which lead you with one more, which was nearest to you. 
“Not my boyfriend,” you corrected awkwardly, your ears burning while you walked carefully over to the gallon in the far back wall. “I didn’t like him, I was promised a free ticket to a movie, and you know with my mom and everything I couldn’t pass it up.”
Without even looking at him, you knew that Kaibara had nodded his head in understanding.
“So you don’t like him?” he asked, his voice seeming to come from a few steps behind you, which caused a shiver to roll down your spine, but you mentally blamed it on the freezing air. 
“No, I um… I like someone else,” you respond honestly, trying not to let on your embarrassed and flustered state while trying to take the gallon of ice cream out from the rack but was currently failing. “Stupid fucking ice cream!”
But your frustration towards the ice cream container was quickly and almost immediately forgotten the second his unexplainably warm hands grabbed onto your shoulders and spun you around. Your eyes widened at the sight of his slight shaggy black hair falling onto his eyes while he looked at you and then down at your lips.
“Am I that someone else?” he asked, and all the air in your lungs froze over and died. He read you like a book, and the soft chuckle that left his lips made your body vibrate with warmth as he nodded his head in perfect understanding. “Lucky guess, huh… you think I can kiss you, y/n?”
A simple sentence crossed his tongue, and yet your mind spun at his words as if he had offered you only the greatest riches in the world, and you found yourself nodding your head while reaching up to meet his own eager lips into a scorching kiss. You weren’t sure how long the kiss lasted, only knowing that with your fingers twisted into his soft locks, his fingers digging into your waist and keeping you breathlessly near, and the buzz that came alive with your dancing lips. He inexplicably and irrevocably overwhelmed you, and the near frantic breathing that passed through your nose was evidence of that. 
By the time you two parted, you felt the world turn into some rose gold haze while you stared up at his smiling face.
The two of you would later find out that you had been locked in the freezer together, but on the hottest day of the year, next to someone who kissed you with enough intensity and passion that the freezer couldn’t even make you shiver, it was all okay.
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alwaysmychoices · 4 years
Text
Not the End
Synopsis: With only 24 hours left for Charlie to decide if she wants a relationship with Ethan, Charlie and Ethan try to distract themselves from the weight of her decision. But what if Charlie can’t decide? And what if they lose each other?
Chapter 10 of the “with and without” series
Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)
Words: 4k+
Rating: Teen 
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Charlie waited for an epiphany, a sign, or a clue.
She looked in every passing face for an answer, but she avoided her own reflection. She spent the night agonizing over Ethan’s proposition, begging herself to fall asleep to see if her dreams would provide a hint. When the sun rose, she retreated to the safety and security of her morning routine. If she could just make her coffee, maybe she would understand herself.
His thumbprints marked her body and mind, and his constant presence in her mind morphed him into a fantastical beast – elusive and distant. She manipulated the image in her mind, painting him as a hero and a villain, but just before she could be convinced of either, the mirage slipped away to her barebone memories of tender smiles as he pulled her close and apologetic eyes as he distanced himself.
It was alarmingly easy to question her own memories.
All this time, had she been right to be so fearful of a relationship with Ethan Ramsey? Was it their doomed fate that pushed her to her lowest point, or had a series of unfortunate missteps blinded her?
A month ago, Charlie knew all the answers.
She knew that she was naïve and reckless to have pursued him in the first place. She regarded her past self with resentment and pity for allowing Ethan to burrow himself in her heart with promises he could never keep. She saw the ensuing chaos and months of painful mistakes as a learning experience. Charlie Greene was smart enough to never trust Ethan Ramsey again.
But was she really?
Sleep-deprived and mindlessly moving through her commute, Charlie didn’t feel smart. She felt angry and confused. Why had she broken her rules? Why had she thrown caution to the wind and exposed herself to danger?
Ethan had the power to hurt her deeply, and now, he handed her the same capability.
There was no safety without hurting him, and the significance of the decision weighed on her. She had every right to be angry at him for backing her into a corner, but something about it felt inevitable. Their current relationship was volatile and unsustainable. A decision had to be made.
She just wished she didn’t have to make it.
As Edenbrook came into view, Charlie mumbled under her breath that she regretted ever meeting Ethan Ramsey, but that was a lie.
The closer she got to Edenbrook, the further her stomach twisted. She dreaded seeing Ethan without having an answer to give him, but she could hardly avoid him all day. Her pace slowed as she attempted to prolong her distance from him, and with her gaze leveled at the door, she felt like she was walking a plank.
Little did she know that she wouldn’t make it to the door.
“Charlie!” Bryce’s eager greeting jolted Charlie out of her head, and she nearly winced at the foreign enthusiasm. Who could be that happy on a morning like this?
Charlie pushed her sunglasses off the bridge of her nose, balancing them on the top of her head as she scanned her surroundings for her friend’s familiar form. It was hard to miss someone like Bryce. He was too tall, too tan, and too devastatingly handsome to blend into a crowd. Soon, she found him by the basketball court near the door and, in an attempt to deter conversation, offered a polite wave.
Bryce waved her over, leaning against the goal post. As Charlie approached, he flashed a bright white smile and flipped his sweaty hair to the side, and interns audibly swooned behind her.
Charlie rolled her eyes, somewhat relieved by the distraction as she polished off her to-go coffee and leveled a cocked eyebrow at her friend.
“You did that on purpose.”
Bryce shrugged shamelessly, flexing his biceps he surveyed the scene behind her. Charlie looked with him and found a conspicuous group of interns and residents clustered near the door. Some were holding coffees and carrying on small talk, if just to warrant their lingering, but some boldly stared. Judging Bryce’s casual confidence and lack of surprise, Charlie wondered if this was a frequent occurrence.
“I did,” Bryce admitted brazenly, smiling even wider, “It’s my responsibility as the most handsome resident. I have a duty to those interns.”
“A duty?” Charlie repeated, amused.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Bryce mused as he shouldered his gym bag, shamelessly flexing his sweaty arms once more for the crowd, “I have to maintain the image. You, on the other hand, look like shit.”
Charlie huffed, mumbling a sarcastic “Thanks.”
He was right, of course. She hadn’t slept, and her indecisiveness took up too much of her headspace for her to think of much else this morning. She dressed in the first scrubs she saw, and as soon as her curls gave her any resistance, she forced them into a ponytail and moved on with her day. Her face was tired and puffy, and without the cover of her sunglasses, her under eyes were dark.
“No offense, of course.”
“Of course,” Charlie echoed in disbelief.
Bryce flashed a wicked smile and leaned in conspiratorially to ask, “To look that bad, you must have had a very good night. What were you up to, Charlie?”
What was she up to?
Just as quickly as it retreated, Charlie’s anxiety resurfaced. Only now, it was bubbling and hot and constricting. She regretted the extra-large cup of coffee as her stomach clenched, and the longer she went without answering, the more she squirmed.
What was she supposed to say? The truth was too complicated to share, especially when she’d kept Ethan a secret for so long. It was one thing to admit that she spent the night fucking her boss in his office, but it was another to admit that she’d been with Ethan. And she couldn’t confess her anxiety without sharing his proposition or the weeks of interactions preceding it.  
Charlie scrambled for a lie, and in the rush, she picked the lamest excuse she could.
“Just didn’t sleep,” Charlie forced a yawn just to prove it, and she internally winced. How would faking a yawn make her seem genuine?
Bryce didn’t look convinced, and Charlie recognized that she was in danger of being discovered.
“Right…” Bryce made a show of rolling his eyes, leaning in further as if silently assuring her that whatever she said would stay between them. Not that it would, of course. If Charlie were to reveal all of her secrets with Ethan, she doubted that Bryce could contain himself.
At best, he’d be so enthralled with the drama that he would feel compelled to tell someone, if just to check if they already knew and hadn’t told him. At worst, he would oppose her self-destructive behavior and would urge their mutual friends to stop her.
But Charlie was so overwhelmed and confused that, if he had pushed, she might have told him.
In the end, she didn’t have to face the questioning at all, and she felt a pang of regret at missing her opportunity to unburden herself.
“Lahela!”
No.
Charlie’s face dropped, and she was relieved that Bryce was too distracted by the greeting to notice.
Everything was too much. Her heartbeat was too fast, too loud. Time passed too quickly, and it was all too soon.
She watched in horror as Bryce waved his arm in a friendly greeting, summoning the familiar voice.
Don’t come, she willed him silently, I’m not ready.
But of course, that didn’t work.
Even though she recognized the voice, she felt a sting of shock when she saw Ethan Ramsey approach her. Just as she feared it might, the mere sight of him summoned more emotion than she knew how to process. Everything was fleeting yet so deep that she couldn’t form a coherent thought.
She missed him. She adored him. She felt a swell in her heart at the sight of him. But she also dreaded his presence. She feared his hold on her. She tortured herself with her own indecision and her failure to give him an answer. She hated herself for not understanding or trusting herself enough to know what to do.
Ethan, conversely, felt only one thing – crushing disappointment.
His gaze had only just found her when she darted her eyes away, actively avoiding him as he neared her. He could see the exhaustion and worry etched on her face, and his heart sank.
She’s not going to say yes, he realized.
He knew this was a possibility. Last night, he reassured her that she could reject him without earning his hatred. But none of that shielded him from the despair of a refusal.
Ethan struggled to regain his composure as he was socially obligated to approach Bryce after calling out his name. He hardly remembered why he wanted to talk to him in the first place, and now, he certainly didn’t want to. The only person he wanted to talk to was Charlie, and even then, he wasn’t sure if he could.
What could he say to her?
He wanted to comfort her in her obvious distress, but he hesitated to push her. There was something comforting in knowing she still had time to change her mind. It made his rejection feel less final, less devastating.
“You forgot your water bottle,” Ethan blurted out as soon as he reached the young doctors, shoving the bottle in Bryce’s direction. He felt the urge to run and struggled to resist it.
He didn’t know how to act normal. He wasn’t sure he remembered what normal was.
His memories were now skewed to Charlie. Surely, before her, he had done this before. He had offered himself and faced rejection. Charlie was a woman, not a life-altering event. So, why did everything but her feel distant? Why did he not recognize the man in the mirror?
Bryce stared at Ethan, obviously confused and perhaps even uncomfortable with Ethan’s changed demeanor. Ethan was trying so hard to be himself that he came off as a caricature of a gruff attending instead.
“Thanks,” Bryce thanked him tentatively, observing carefully as he took the bottle.
Ethan nodded in his direction instead of replying, and he cast a quick, fleeting look in Charlie’s direction as he greeted her, “Dr. Greene.”
Charlie opened her mouth to greet him as well, though she wasn’t sure how to. Could she still call him Ethan, or was she supposed to take the hint when he failed to call her by her first name?
But Charlie didn’t have to decide.
Just as quick as he approached, Ethan left.
Charlie and Bryce watched as Ethan walked into the hospital, his stride purposeful if not downright irritated. The crowd of interns by the door dispersed quickly under the heat of his stare, muttering that he was sure to be a pain in the ass during rotations if he was already in a bad mood.
They were probably right.
Charlie might have felt bad for the interns on the receiving end of his demanding mentorship, but she knew they got to leave it behind after their rounds. She, on the other hand, had the pleasure of working with him for the rest of the day. Charlie tensed at the thought. If they couldn’t manage small talk outside of the hospital, how would they make it through the day?
“That was weird, right?” Bryce asked, still staring at the door like he was trying to work out the scene he just witnessed.
“What was weird?” Charlie asked innocently, staring ahead to avoid being studied by Bryce. She wouldn’t withstand the scrutiny.
“Dr. Ramsey,” Bryce looked at her incredulously, like she was crazy to have missed it, “He was acting strangely, wasn’t he?”
Charlie shrugged with one shoulder, trying to seem casual as she deflected, “I mean, it’s Dr. Ramsey. What’s normal?”
“I guess…” Bryce murmured absently, consumed with the new mystery.
“I’m going to head in. You coming?” Charlie was quick to leave. If she gave it too much time, Bryce might just work it out, and she didn’t really want to answer the questions that would follow.
Bryce tilted his head thoughtfully, eyes narrowed like he was trying to see through a mist, but finally, he let out a deep breath and flashed Charlie a playful smile as he asked, “Are you just trying to get me in the shower?”
Bryce seemed to forget about Ethan and his strange behavior entirely by the time they reached the locker room, and Charlie let out a relieved sigh once he was safely distracted. She left him to shower and rushed to the diagnostics unit before Ethan could make it there. She collected her assignments from June, who was often the first in the office, and began her morning rounds.
Once she was working, Charlie felt the anxiety in her chest slowly dissipate. Distracted with work, she had no room to think of Ethan or his proposition or the complexity of her decision. She picked up extra jobs throughout the day, even stepping in to help a few interns during her moments of peace and inactivity.
Ethan similarly busied himself, but unlike Charlie and her friendly requests to help around the hospital, Ethan was a terror.
Every intern and resident who had the misfortune of crossing his path soon learned to regret it. Working directly with Charlie had distracted him and maybe even softened his disposition, so his young students had not faced his full intensity in some time. Some interns had never even seen it at all.
The first sign of his sour mood came during their morning rounds. Interns who bumbled or made mistakes were quickly and sharply corrected, and by the end of the morning, at least half of the group hated him. One intern almost had the nerve to call him out on his rudeness but lost their nerve under his intimidating stare.
Those who encountered him the rest of the day found him to be even more severe. He watched all of them with a sharp eye, sharper than he had been in quite a while. A few residents didn’t even realize he was present until they received his criticism.
The entire time, Charlie and Ethan did not cross paths.
They were surpassingly good at avoiding each other.
Of course, they couldn’t evade one another forever, and in the late evening, they ran out of places to hide.
The sun had nearly set by the time Ethan and Charlie faced each other again. Despite hours apart, it just took one look to take them back to the basketball court this morning – awkward, hurt, and strained. After that look, they didn’t really like looking at each other.
It was too distracting. They had come together for a group meeting to go over Senator Farrugia’s confounding test results, and they needed to be their best if they were to solve a medical mystery. Thinking about each other consumed too much brainpower and left them preoccupied and emotional.
They distanced themselves for their own wellbeing. Ethan sat at the desk while Charlie sat at the round table in the furthest chair from him. She kept her eyes on the test results and the whiteboard, actively avoiding his blue gaze. He felt her aversion, and it stung. They both contributed to the discussion, though they never directly conversed.
Late into the meeting, Ethan stepped back, allowing his colleagues to follow a train of thought on their own. He found himself watching Charlie, occasionally looking to the others to hide his sole interest in her. She seemed oblivious, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel it. Despite his better judgment, he imagined her saying yes, and that proved to be the most painful part of it all.
He could picture it. He could see her smiling her bright smile and kissing him as she agreed to a relationship. He could hear their banter in his car as he drove her back to his apartment, and he could smell the dinner they would make. He could envision taking her to bed and waking up next to her.
It came so easily to him that it felt real.
And with a deep twist in his heart, he had to remind himself that it wasn’t.
He wondered if this was their future – avoiding each other as Ethan tortured himself with ideas of their happiness. If she rejected him, could he look at her in the morning? Could she look at him? Could they work together again?
Or was this horrible day the beginning of a new normal?
“I can’t do this anymore,” Baz groaned, head in his hand, and Ethan could deeply empathize.
During Ethan’s inattention, they had amassed at least a dozen new theories and crossed them all out. All three looked frustrated and discouraged, especially Charlie. This case only compounded the overwhelming flow of emotions she’d felt all day, and she cursed ever fighting to bring Farrugia to Edenbrook.
If she hadn’t poached Senator Farrugia, Ethan wouldn’t have kissed her outside of the bar. She wouldn’t have called him later for him to reject her out of principle. She wouldn’t have gone on a date with David, and Ethan wouldn’t have gotten so drunk that he needed saving. They wouldn’t have gotten comfortable again, and they wouldn’t have had sex last night. None of this would be happening if she had just left the patient alone.
Charlie excused herself from the table, leaving a pile of papers at her seat, as she crossed the room for a glass of water just to have a new distraction.
“This is particularly tricky,” June nodded to Baz as if it were an equal complaint, which only made Baz groan louder as he closed the cover of his tablet and massaged his temples.
“If tricky means ‘absolute hell,’ I agree,” Baz grumbled, and Charlie smiled softly into her glass as she watched them.
She could see Ethan watching them, too. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he just as amused, or was he irritated as well? Or was he thinking about her?
The last thought made her body tense, and she averted her eyes.
Charlie wished that she knew what to do, but after spending all day running from him, she was no closer to her decision. She was running out of time, and she swore she could hear the ticking clock in the back of her mind.
“On that note, we should conclude this meeting. We’ll pick up in the morning,” Ethan announced, visibly relieved to put the case away for the night.
Baz let out a weak “wooo!” as he let his head fall to the table, still working through his frustration. June shook her head at his display and collected her materials, wishing her colleagues goodnight as she left to check on a few patients before going home. Baz began to pull himself together, albeit slowly.
For a moment, Charlie felt frozen in place as it dawned on her that she would soon be alone with Ethan. As much as she wanted to stop thinking about Senator Farrugia, she wasn’t ready to leave the security of the group meeting. She wasn’t ready to run away, and she wasn’t ready to face him either. She felt as though she just remembered the passage of time, and the reality of her deadline hit her. Every step she took was a step closer to the ending, but she didn’t know what it looked like.
Charlie didn’t trust the fluctuating advice in her head that ranged from “say yes, you idiot!” to “run away and never see him again!”
All she really knew was that she didn’t want to hurt Ethan, but she also didn’t want to hurt herself.
Belatedly, Charlie realized that Ethan was watching her, and she cautiously glanced in his direction only to directly meet his gaze.
Yes.
Charlie was amazed by the thought. It came easily and so readily, and for a moment, she thought everything was solved. But then doubt crept in.
Dropping her eyes, Charlie mumbled an excuse about needing to check on her intern and hurried out of the office before she could be left alone with Ethan.
Once again, Ethan was disappointed.
He was amazed that he still felt it. For any other paramour, the indecision and rejection would have numbed him quickly to reduce the likelihood of future pain. Harper once joked that it was her first clue that he didn’t love her.
But Ethan did love Charlie. Maybe that’s what made him so ready to wait for her, maintaining his optimism with every blow. Maybe he was willing to play the fool for her.
Alone in the diagnostics office, Ethan evaded his own reflection. He didn’t want to see who he’d become in hopes that she would accept his offer, yet he knew he would sink much lower if he lost her.
Forty-five minutes passed, and Charlie didn’t leave his mind for a single second.
At his best, he thought about how he was thinking about her, and at his worst, he thought about everything about her.
While he sat in his thoughts, Charlie found herself running. He was everywhere, yet just when she could touch a feeling or an instinct, her mind instinctively distanced itself. Forcing herself to stay there and face it was a herculean task. Even as she tried, she couldn’t maintain it.
Why didn’t she know? When it’s right, you’re supposed to know.
Charlie paced the halls, finding odd tasks as she went to fill the time, but there wasn’t enough to distract her now. Each time she paced, she found herself a little closer to the office. She felt tied to him and was following an invisible rope.
“I’ll just say no,” she thought aloud, her voice a low mumble kept only to her. As she pivoted in her pace, she frowned and countered, “wait, I should say yes. Or…”
Charlie opened her mouth to speak, but her thoughts were too jumbled to produce a sentence. It was as if, in the chaos of everything flying at her, there was nothing left. She’d thought of it all and felt no closer to a resolution.
In her frustrated daze, Charlie didn’t realize that she was still walking. Instead of turning at the corner, she kept going, inching closer and closer to disaster. Maybe, subconsciously, she was ready to face him and that’s why she kept walking, or maybe she was so ripped apart by fear and adoration that there wasn’t room for another thought.
She kept walking until she felt a pair of familiar eyes watching her.
Charlie held her breath as she scanned the hallway. She knew she would see him, but that knowledge didn’t prepare her for the sight. She gasped lightly, her chest tight as she tried to remember how to breathe again.
Ethan. Her Ethan.
He watched her carefully, reading the precarious confusion in her face. He braced himself for another rejection, yet… he wasn’t quite sure he would get one. There was something in the way she looked at him – in the way she was still standing there – that made him think she might actually say yes, and that was a dangerous thought. In response, hope and optimism filled his chest, brushing over every wound with golden forgiveness.
Tentatively, Ethan nodded in her direction, still separated by at least twelve feet.
“Charlie,” he greeted her hesitantly, studying her intently for any sign of her answer.
Charlie felt blank. Like all she could do was stare back. When she realized he’d expected her to say something back, she breathlessly whispered, “Ethan.”
This was it.
This was the time.
And Charlie didn’t know.
She wasn’t oscillating between extremes anymore. She was very firmly planted in a field of nothingness. Every thought and idea and argument was out of reach, and she could only see panic-inducing emptiness.
Ethan watched her face twist as she came to this realization, but he couldn’t interpret it. He waited for her to speak, but his foolish optimism couldn’t stay bottled up. He wanted her to say yes so badly that he was willing to push for it.
Against his better judgment, he asked, “Have you decided?”
Charlie’s chest heaved as if all of the air had been taken from her lungs, and she stared at him as she tried to find it again. She stood still, yet she felt like she was running for a clue. She was trying to remember why she’d fought herself on both sides, hoping for an illuminating insight that would change everything. She waited for it to become simple, yet it never did.
And in the recesses of her mind, as she weeded through her feelings while staring down the barrel of nothing, there was a thought.
A small, quiet one. Yet she heard it over the noise.
Maybe the absence of a choice is a choice.
Here, at her last opportunity, if she didn’t know what she wanted to say, that had to mean something. Her frustrating indecision and urge to distract herself said something, but she hadn’t listened.
Maybe she’d made her choice the moment she ran out on him last night. Maybe this whole exercise was just an attempt to hold onto him longer. Maybe she already knew she would lose him.
“I-I…” Charlie stammered, still running. She was always running. She didn’t want it to be true as she finally declared, “I can’t.”
And then she was running. She was actually running. With each step, she was leaving it behind. She was retreating, and she was praying that she made the right decision.
Ethan stood in a state of shock, all of the hopeful warmth replaced with the bone-chilling absence of it. He failed to comprehend the devastation he felt, running just as she did back into his head. He lied to himself that there was still hope. He reminded himself of the time left before the deadline, and as he left the hospital in defeat, he told himself that this was not the end.
Because, if it was…
Ethan didn’t know if he could face it.
And as Charlie tried desperately to retreat, there was a thought she couldn’t escape.
She made the wrong choice.
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Author’s Note: SO, I was planning for this to be resolved, but the chapter got long, and I was tempted to raise the suspense. I know you probably hate me and Charlie, but I want Charlie to be human. So, she’s going to be annoying sometimes, so will Ethan. I’m already working on the next chapter, and I can tell you that it has a much happier ending. 
I am sorry tho 
also, I’ve never said this, but in my mind, this series has a long way to go. So, you’ve still got a lot of chapters left if you want to stick around, even if Charlie can be annoying. 
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107 notes · View notes
purplesurveys · 3 years
Text
1269
Last thing you bought online? Did you like it? OMG OMG so I got Angela an Army Bomb!!!!!! for her birthday!!!! It was HELLLL looking for sealed ones that were already onhand, but fortunately I was able to find one from this really nice seller a few days ago and the shipping was quick as well. I’m just a little worried because the outbox has a little dent on it :( but it was the best onhand offer I could find so I got it before anybody could call dibs. I still hope she likes it! I got her batteries too so that she can try lighting it up as soon as she has it. :D
Could you date someone who didn’t drive (and didn’t show an interest in ever getting their license, either)?  I feel like this is such a petty thing to make a big deal about...if they knew how to commute or any other way to get to their destination, I don’t think this should be a problem. It would only be an issue to me if they refused to get a license in a very I-generally-lack-ambition kind of way.
How would you react if your artwork became famous?  I don’t have any to show off to begin with. I love appreciating art, but creating it was never a forte of mine.
Would you get your nipples pierced?  No, I don’t plan on getting any piercings. How many people know your birthday?  Outside of my family, my best friends. I think everyone else relies on Facebook to be reminded, which is fine with me.
Has anyone ever tried to ruin a relationship you were in?  No. Quite the contrary, really...I was sometimes informed about red flags taking place, which of course my stubborn ass ignored.
Have you ever watched a whole hour long infomercial?  Probably, as a kid. The channel from which I used to watch WWE aired these really long infomercials so I would watch those while waiting for like Raw or whatever show was going on after.
What is your current MySpace song?  I never hung out on Myspace. I had an account, but I was too young for it so it wasn’t long before I got bored.
What is your favorite kind of meat to put on your sandwich?  Pulled pork or fried chicken.
Which one of your exes do you feel like you have the most chemistry with?  I only have one ex.
How do you feel about people who make Facebook profiles for their pets? I find it really cute. But I personally wouldn’t put in as much effort lol.
Have you ever personally known a pair of conjoined twins?  Hmmmmmmmm I don’t think so.
What was the most disturbing thing you have ever heard your mother say? She threatened suicide in front of me and my dad in a very calm way when I was around 11, I think? Maybe 12, idk. I haven’t actually thought about that moment in an extremely long time until this question. I’ll move on now and shove the memory at the very very back of my head before I get sad.
Is there something in particular you like to look at photos of? What is it?  Aside from members of BTS (lol), interior design inspirations.
Chewy chocolate-chip cookies: like or dislike?  Ooh, love. When I bite into a cookie it hassssss to ooze chocolate, otherwise I would be underwhelmed.
If your boyfriend/girlfriend wanted to dress only in the opposite sex’s clothing, would you support that? If not, would you leave them?  Support.
Do you think your grandmother is/was beautiful?  They both are.
Which of your fields of interest are you a total expert on?  Anything that has to do with writing (except poems), I guess? I like being able to give people advice and tips when it comes to that.
When was the last time you got all dolled up?  Last July when we had a big PR media launch thingy and I couldn’t afford to look like shit on Zoom.
Do you ever name objects? (i.e. mp3 players, guitars, cars, etc.)  Never.
Do you have a criminal record?  Not criminal but it’s possibleeeee that I have some kind of record on my license from the time I got stopped by an officer in Alabang, lmao. It was a minor offense from a tiny part of the town so I don’t actually know if they filed it, but it’s possible.
Last person you took a nap with?  I don’t really nap with other people. I hate falling asleep in front of others to begin with.
Does seeing your mother cry automatically make you feel sad as well?  No.
Do you think someone likes the same person you like?  I don’t like anybody.
Do you want your life to stay the way it is right now forever?  No, I do not want to stay in a pandemic and not get to maximize my life the way it’s supposed to be enjoyed forever.
Have you ever been to craigslist.com?  I’ve never checked it out; idk if we have that here?
What about eBay?  I also dunno if they operate here so no, I’ve never bothered.
Have you ever used Nair?  Not Nair, but I’ve used Veet before.
Are you medicated?  Nope.
Do you shape/fill in your eyebrows?  I never do stuff to my eyebrows except shave them.
Have you ever stolen/borrowed clothes from an ex?  Several articles of clothing were left behind here, yeah. I never had the chance to give them back because I stupidly thought we were going to get back together eventually. By the time I moved on the timing was already off, so the clothes stayed with me untillll...just a few days ago, actually – when I finally cleaned up my room and got rid of a bunch of knickknacks that accumulated here over the years, including all her shirts and sweaters and stuff.
Could you make a statement about anything political?  The 2022 presidential election landscape looks like complete shit and I’m nearly at that point where I want to stop giving a fuck about this country’s future.
Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate?  No.
Do you get the feeling something good will happen in your life soon?  I think I’m already living in it, haha.
Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche?  Sure, but cliché is also hit and miss for me. I love Titanic and Love Actually, but I cannot stand movies like Me Before You and The Notebook. I guess it depends on certain executions, like the acting, screenplay, casting, etc.
Have you been to McDonald’s in the past month?  No, not inside. We did drive-thru within the last month, though.
Have you ever slept over at your best friend’s house?  Not at Andi’s, but I have at Angela’s.
How often do you go bowling?  Extremely rarely. I can’t tell you the last time I went bowling.
Last time you were in an apartment?  Like 2007 when I visited my aunt back when she still lived in one. None of my friends have their own apartments.
Have you ever seen a live seahorse?  I don’t think so.
Would you like to have your own yacht? I mean I wouldn't say no if you offered it to me for free, but I'm not exactly interested in one. < Same.
Winnie the Pooh or Tigger?  Tigger always made me laugh as a kid.
What’s the unhealthiest thing you’ve eaten today?  Luncheon meat, I think? I didn’t go overboard with the junk food today.
Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink?  Hm, not that I can recall.
What is something you’d be happy to receive as a gift, that doesn’t cost a lot?  A bag of the salted egg chips that I really like costs like 30 bucks, or roughly 60 US cents.
What kind of music does your significant other/crush like to listen to?  I don’t have any irl crushes, can I use a celebrity crush instead? HAHA he’s heavily into jazz and whenever he gets asked for music recos he always gives jazz artists from like the 50s and 60s.
Who did you have your first kiss with? Do you remember what colour his/her eyes were?  Gab. Dark brown.
Are there any themes from TV shows that you like to sing along to? The Big Bang Theory and Friends; and then I also liked humming to the themes of Breaking Bad, The Walking Dead, and BoJack Horseman. The Phineas & Ferb theme was also a lot of fun to sing along to.
Do you eat dessert after dinner? No, I never do that. I’m usually already full after dinner, and we don’t always have sweets at home anyway.
Have you ever had too much to drink and felt embarrassed about your behavior the next day?  Sure.
When you go out drinking, what do you prefer to drink?  Cocktails. I very rarely go for hard drinks/shots, especially if I brought my own car.
What was the last animal that you saw?  Dog.
What was the last thing that you said to one of your siblings?  I just told my sister I was done using her laptop so she can have it back. My Memories of 2020 DVD turned out to be region-locked so I have to use her laptop every time I want to watch it :(
What is the most expensive thing that you’ve purchased that you paid for:  My Map of the Soul photobook cost me around 5k in total.
What is your favorite messaging program?  Messenger.
Do you eat fast food more than 5 times a week?  Wow no. Aside from being extremely unhealthy, that’s also a LOT of spending??
Have you ever almost drowned?  Yes.
Have you ever learned something shocking about someone through Facebook?  I mean I’ve had to learn about more than one family death through my Facebook feed, which sucks but is nothing I have control over. Otherwise the most shocking thing I’ve seen is probably classmates from high school having their own kids, but at this point I’m used to it already.
What’s the scariest living animal that you’ve petted?  I’m not really afraid of carrying/petting animals especially if there’s a guide or expert nearby, but the most daring one was probably the crocodile I volunteered to hold in Palawan.
Do you remember the first conversation you ever had with the person you currently have feelings for?  Not at all.
Do you dread certain days of the week? If yes, what day/s and why?  I hate Mondays for obvious reasons lol. I don’t know anyone who is actively cheery about reporting back to work.
If you eat oatmeal, do you have it plain or do you have certain toppings that you like to add to it?  I never eat oatmeal. I had that every single day for breakfast from like kindergarten to 4th grade and I vowed never to take a spoonful of it again.
What is the funniest or strangest thing you’ve ever heard somebody say in their sleep?  I dunno. I used to keep a log of the things my ex used to say in her sleep and a great deal of them were hilarious, but obviously I deleted that note a long time ago.
Choose one - Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers:  Butterfinger.
Do you use Mozilla Firefox? Nopes.
Who is your favorite person to hug? Angela and Laurice.
Have you ever had to have a mug shot?  Nope.
What was the last thing you carried to your room?  Kimi.
When was the last time you had a late night phone call?  WELL over a year ago.
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damnedparker · 4 years
Text
mother tongue
pairing: din djarin x reader (no y/n, gender neutral)
warnings: none really, just fluff. hurt/comfort. mention of death, like one swear word
summary: din is exhausted. you try to help him heal after the events on nevarro.
also posted on ao3
title inspired by this song which i heavily associate with din for mando’a reasons.
i’ve never posted my fics to tumblr before so be gentle with me.
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“When’s the last time you slept?” You broke the silence you and your Mandalorian currently piloting the Razor Crest were sitting in after finally putting the Child down for the night; or, at least, the night on Nevarro, which you had just left. “Din.” You nudged his arm with your foot, as you were currently stretched out lazily in the co-pilot’s seat. The bounty hunter continued to stay silent, his visor staring straight ahead. You repeated his name a few times over the next few minutes that passed before finally chucking the stylus you were fiddling with at the side of his helmet, resulting in a loud clank. No response. You heaved out a sigh and stood up, walking right up to his side. “Din. Mando. Asshole. Respond to me.” You flicked his helmet again. This time it was a quiet thunk that resounded off the beskar.
“What?” Came a gruff, audibly tired voice.
“I asked you when the last time you slept was.” You reiterated, now resting your hand in the space between his neck and his pauldron. Even through the thicker, practical fabric of his undershirt, the heat from his skin warmed your hand. You felt his shoulders relax at your touch, his head tilting to the side slightly as if your hand had simply deflated him.
“I don’t know.” His words were genuine; he had no idea when the last time he got some real rest was. He was quick to follow up before you could even open your mouth to reply. “I’m fine. I had some caf before we left.”
“You’re not fine,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Get up. I can fly the next few klicks we have until we jump to hyperspace.” Din shook his head. You held in another annoyed huff. Sometimes he was as stubborn as a child. You stood and observed him for a moment, noticing the stiff posture that had returned, as well as the slight swaying his body had taken on, probably from being drowsy while still sitting up. If you didn’t get him out of the pilot’s chair soon, you would both end up crash-landing on some random planet neither of you were familiar with. “Din,” you began, your voice gentle as ever. His attention returned from the foggy limbo that only days-upon-days of no sleep caused. “It’s okay to be tired, you know.” Especially with everything that happened today.
“I know.” He whispered, voice breaking. “Can you… sit with me? While you fly?” One of his hands left the controls to grasp your wrist. You nodded, ecstatic that he’d actually agreed to let you take over, and even more so to be able to spend the time resting with him.
He shifted back in his seat before gently pulling you down on his lap, not letting go of the controls until you were comfortably settled against him and you replaced where his hands had been tightly gripping, hoping not to drift off while flying the Crest. You didn’t have that much longer before you could jump into hyperspace, switching to autopilot for a while before you would reach the first planet Din had the tiniest hunch might lead to the Child’s species. It had been in the back of his mind for a while, and now that the Child was officially part of his clan, he figured it was time to jump on whatever small chance he had to find his right home.
Din didn’t say much as you focused on flying, both because of his tired state and because he didn’t really know what to say. He had almost lost you today, as well as the Child. You had almost lost him. To some kriffing Imps. If IG-11 wasn’t there, who knows what would have happened. He didn’t really want to think about it. You were here now, real and warm, sitting with him and taking over the controls just because he was tired. You were really a gift to him. Sometimes the bounty hunter questioned what in the universe decided that he was deserving to have someone in his life as good as you. You, his cyar’ika, his partner. At this point, the Child’s parent just as he was its father.
He was terrified. Terrified of loving you, terrified of losing you. Stars, he loved you. He hadn’t loved anything before you and the Child. A heartless, lonely bounty hunter on the run from his own emotions until he stumbled into you one day, a bored former rebel pilot drinking the days away in a cantina. You had accepted his offer of partnership in helping with a particularly grueling bounty job without hesitation. It was something new. You had ended up being a breath of fresh air for him, too.
One thing led to another and you were traveling the galaxy with him before the Child fell into your lives and threw a wonderful, green wrench into it all. It was the last straw that opened up the tension that had been building between the two of you, pushing your relationship into new territory, romantic territory, which was something completely foreign and unexpected for Din. And, oh, how he adored it.
And today he had almost lost it all.
Nevarro was a disaster. The losses of Kuiil and IG had dug themselves hard into his brain, and he felt so guilty, and so absolutely devastated. Kuiil was a good-hearted being, he had helped Din without question, multiple times and had given his life for the Child. IG had done much the same. He couldn’t help thinking how he could have lost you as well.
“Fallen asleep yet, shiny?” Your voice tugged him out of his thoughts, and he wrapped his arms tighter around your middle, shifting to sit up more. He refused to fall asleep while he had the ability to hold you, to make sure you were still there with him.
“I’m still awake.” He rubbed his thumb over the skin that had become exposed from your shirt riding up a bit when you leaned forward to flick a switch, preparing to make the jump into hyperspace. “Just thinking."
“What about?” You hummed, easing the ship into the jump before switching into autopilot. You didn’t get up from your spot in Din’s lap, only leaning backwards into his chest to get comfortable.
“Us,” he paused, voice becoming quieter. “Everything that happened today.” You nodded, taking one of his hands from its place at your hip and beginning to remove his glove.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I… I don’t know,” he told you truthfully. You moved on to remove his other glove. “Not particularly. Not right now.”
“That’s okay,” you set his gloves aside, taking one of your hands in his and reveling at the warmth of his rough skin against yours. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”
“I know,” he leant his helmet against your forehead affectionately. “Thank you.” You pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles in reply before you stood, tugging him with you.
“Come on,” you led him out of the cockpit, down into the sad, tiny excuse the Crest had for living quarters. “Let me help you get cleaned up. And then we can sleep. We have a long commute, so we have plenty of time.” You began to remove the armor from his body, beskar dropping on the metal floor of the ship minute by minute before he was in his underclothes. You neatly piled up the armor and scooted it against the wall, to avoid tripping on it like the both of you often did when you actually did get to sleep. Then you left to retrieve a clean set of clothes for him to wear to bed, as well as a towel so he could use the ‘fresher. While you were gone, he removed his helmet, quickly peeling off his dirty clothes from the day, leaving him in his underwear. He stood there for a moment, staring at the beskar helmet in his hands before deciding not to put it back on. He called your name to signal you back in the room. “We should really get you some new clothes, these are—” You cut yourself off with a gasp when you saw the back of his head, immediately turning and squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see anything, you-you called so I thought—”
“It’s okay, cyar’ika,” Din said softly, setting his hands on your hips and turning you towards him. He let out a chuckle when your eyes were still screwed shut. “I know. I wanted you to see.” He slipped his arms further around you, pulling you against him. “I love you. I want to be open with this part of myself with you. You deserve it.”
“Din, I-I,” you swallowed around the lump in your throat. “Don’t we have to be married for this not to break your creed?”
“Yes,” you felt his forehead gently make contact with yours, his breath fanning over your lips. “But only if that’s something you want.”
“It is. Of course it is.” You were surprised at the steadiness of your voice. Din was quiet, leaving you to put the pieces together in your head. Oh. “Right now?”
“I mean, if you want… we don’t have to, I was just—” You cut him off with a whisper of reassurance, nodding enthusiastically.
You had never been surer of anything else in your life as Din began to recite the Mandalorian wedding vows to you, and you repeated them almost too perfectly right after. Once it was done, you were both silent for a moment, when Din pressed his lips to yours in a chaste, passionate kiss.
“Open your eyes.” You finally gave in and obliged, taking in his face for the first time. You couldn’t get enough, bringing your hands up to hold his face and trace over his features. His beautiful hawkish nose that suited him incredibly well, his pouty lips framed by just the right amount of scruff. His brown eyes that shone with affection for you and his messy hair, flattened by his helmet and the amount of sweat and blood that had soaked it after today’s events. You brushed your thumbs over his cheeks and pressed another kiss to his lips, then the bridge of his nose.
“You need a shower.” Somehow that was the only thing you could get out of your mouth without crying.
“Thanks,” he replied with heavy sarcasm, but the smile that had overtaken his lips ruined every bit of his tone of voice. He pressed another soft kiss to your lips, nudging his nose against yours sweetly. “Join me?”
You nodded, following him into the refresher, hand held safely in his. Din helped you remove your equally dirty clothes, and him shedding his underwear, before you stepped under the hot shower. You wordlessly began to wash Din’s hair, loosening and rinsing away all the blood, sweat, and dirt while being careful around the back of his head. You parted the hair around the area you knew he’d been hit in, checking to see how the wound looked. It was healing, that was for certain thanks to the bacta spray, but stars, did it look absolutely awful. No wonder it had almost killed him. You took in a sharp breath before continuing to rinse his hair. Once you finished, Din stilled you from going for the soap next, taking one of your hands in his and caressing your chin with his free hand.
“Hey, look at me,” he tilted your face to his, holding your gaze intently. “I’m sorry I made you leave me. That’s a horrible responsibility to put on someone, and I know I wouldn’t have listened if the positions were swapped.”
“Don’t apologize, Din, you put the Child first,” you swallowed thickly, tears stinging your eyes. The all-too fresh memories flashed through your head; desperately looking over your shoulder at Din lying motionless, the heavy rise and fall of his chest the only thing signifying that he was still alive. The only parts of him with you as you were forced to leave had been the Child and the mythosaur necklace he had pressed into your hand. The gesture tugged at your heart just thinking about it. That necklace was a symbol of his protection, his love. “I wasn’t thinking. I just- I don’t want to lose you. I was scared, I—” He just nodded, the understanding and shared feelings showing in his scared, tired eyes. “I love you. Please know that.” He brought the hand he was grasping tightly to his chest, pressing it against his damp, warm skin. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your palm, letting you relax. He was here, alive, with you.
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar'ta,” his voice was gentle, but so strong. Direct. Spoken directly from his core. “Always.”
“I’m gonna guess that doesn’t mean ‘eat shit and die, laserbrain.’” You joked, pulling a chuckle from Din, warmth spreading all throughout your body at his words. The idea that this dangerous bounty hunter, so fierce he was considered the best in the parsec, would choose to be so vulnerable and gentle with you was unbelievable. His love was a privilege that could never be overstated.
The pair of you finished up your shower quite quickly, on account of you noticing Din’s eyes get heavier and heavier. Soon enough, the both of you were squeezed into the tiny cot, pressed up against each other. You snuggled into Din’s chest, the both of you on your sides, your legs trapped in a happy, tangled mess so you could be as close to each other as possible. No words were said, sleep having invaded the both of your minds far too much to form coherent words. 
A sleepy kiss was pressed to your forehead, something you registered between consciousness and the limbo you were in as you were falling asleep. Before you fully gave in, you heard quiet snores coming from your Mandalorian next to you, whose arm was wrapped protectively around your waist, holding you against him. You didn’t need reassurances of “goodnight” or “I love yous” right now. Knowing the pair of you were still together, still alive, was more than enough for now.
--
mando’a translations:
cyar'ika: darling, sweetheart
ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar'ta: i love you, my heart
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tcthetouch · 3 years
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@mapleviewstarters​
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𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑, 𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 – 𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 ... 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚜 .
『 nicole kidman. forty-eight. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that CORA WHITWORTH from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -DECEITFUL & -MATERIALISTIC. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool FORMER MADAM, CURRENT... “ACCOUNTANT” and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +NURTURING & +RESOURCEFUL. i hope i see them around again! 『 may. 21.est. she/her. 』
did her parents name her after cora taylor ? no, kae and i just decided they’re dumb enough to name all their kids ‘c’ names. did i, trying to come up with ‘c’ names, name her after cora taylor ? yes.
background
triggers: prostitution (anything triggering that often goes with it is either very very skimmed over or not mentioned at all), pimping, possessiveness (is that the right word to use)/implied abuse?, drugs/briefly mentioned accidental fatal overdose (but if it makes it better the dude sucked)
honestly ? the triggers may imply there were worse things that happened in cora’s life, but... no. the worst thing that happened in her life was being born to the whitworths. not because they were like... jerks. but because they named everyone ‘c’ names. THAT’S THE REAL TRAGEDY IN THIS STORY.
Also. The first half of this intro is :\ a downer :\ but the second half is * thumbs up emoji * * money emoji * like the tone change is AMAZING.
Anyway, on the topic of the Whitworths, they weren’t bad parents! But they also weren’t stupendous parents! They were just largely… not around. So where Clara filled the love she wished to get with… flowers, Cora was like “I will try to fill mine with validation from external forces and… I don’t know, maybe adventure? Probably not.
Also scorpio sun, taurus moon bc astrology?? Ugh we luv it.
So she was decent. But she was bored. She wanted to do something interesting, not just mope around in their small town with the very few subcultures they had.
When she was 18, she decided that the small town life was simply Not For Her. much like my boy stephen crane, she wanted to actually study humanity. She packed up, of all places she could’ve “studied humanity,” she chose Washington, D.C.
But… you see… when you don’t have funds, a consistent source of income, or… really anymore than $20… you’re gonna study humanity SO WELL. Like, she was so set up to really study and experience humanity!
Let it be known… her parents obviously weren’t awful enough to be like “yes, go stay with questionable figures! you reap what you sow!” - no, they just… forgot!
A few people who she did not know offered a couch for the night. It was through various experiences among these folks, along with some general strange advice, that Cora realized she could enter a silently booming industry: sex work. The people she stayed with were usually very familiar with where the nearest red light districts were, some familiar with how to best tell undercover cops from regular johns. So she took this into serious consideration. She was still young – it seemed like a viable option, right? Easy money! 
Turns out… it wasn’t! There are some strange people out there, aren’t there?
However, it did temporarily provide enough funds for Cora to rent a dingy little apartment. Until this one night when a man brought her back – but instead of proposing sex, as was obviously expected, he proposed a different idea: she join his ‘club.’ There’d be more protection, the pay would be even more lucrative, she’d have somewhere better to live within a matter of months… so, god, dear god, it didn’t take much thought for her to take him up on the offer.
Of course, he was a pimp. So… you know, things weren’t actually much better, but the clientele were richer! He didn’t lie about that part! 
After around a year of captivity being pimped, this man took further interest in her as she became one of the more popular choices amongst his girls. He simply couldn’t let the star only be had by rich clientele! Yes, he slept with plenty of his girls, but she became favored as he began treating her as more of a girlfriend (with a creepy age different) who… you know, he still pimped out!
Being ‘closer’ to him was both advantageous and detrimental. Advantageous in that she witnessed more of the business side and various clients were rejected, detrimental in that… having to spend so much time with him, he introduced her to a world that was even worse. In spite of where she’d been for so many years by that point, she never really thought of drugs or gambling or anything else the underbelly provided other than sex work. But he introduced her to that side.
I’ll go easy on this, but… drugs. Period.
After another year of what seemed like something inescapable, now made worse, the best possible thing happened: he overdosed. 
Y’all, we’re mostly out of the downer part of the intro!
With the money she’d gained being one of his stars, as well as that extra money he offered to keep her near, she knew what she had to do. Like… after a while, but we can skip that probably three-month-long gap: start her own brothel!
Using the money she’d received, she rented out a cheap empty building in one of the cheap red light districts. As far as most were concerned, what was once a bar was being converted into a nightclub. Which was, of course, a lie. A good front.
On the verge of bankruptcy by the time it was ready, she was most certainly desperate! But, lucky for her, one of the girls from her old pimp’s bordello followed her in. Soon enough, word spread amongst the community she’d once been so distant from – soon enough, her “nightclub” was filling up.
She would always have to pay thanks to the dead pimp, in a way. Had it not been for him and for how possessive he’d become, she wouldn’t have had a single clue on how to actually run it. And while she was still rocky at first, she gradually became better and better until she was on equal footing with other madams or pimps and was able to gauge clientele just as well.
In addition, had it not been for him, she wouldn’t have realized what was missing! Condoms were provided and deemed a necessity (although, to be fair, it wasn’t as though she knew everything that happened behind doors), the rooms that existed within the “nightclub” were listened to as well as possible to prevent violence (but rooms in other places? hotels, houses? nothing could be ensured, only hoped for - and hoped to be reported if anything happened so the client could be turned away), etc., etc. Ultimately, her girls were more her surrogate daughters – no matter how close or distant in age – than her paychecks.
But lmao she still took a hefty cut of their pay – a whole-ass 55% – less than what her pimp took, but still a LOT for performing no actions. And ss the brothel became more and more popular, that was SO DAMN MUCH. Just per WEEK, really!!
Everything was going so well!! For ten years, the brothel ran with minimal police interference. There were attempts at take-downs, but the brothel began to work like a well-oiled machine – true proof became rather difficult to find.
Until it wasn’t. Until they were clearly closing in. Until Cora was barely getting out by the skin of her teeth. If she and her girls were arrested… not only would they go to jail and all, but all of that money and all of that time? Wasted.
So she handed the keys over to the first girl who would take them – luckily, the girl she would never tell the others was the star (but… the others knew). Her official excuse? She was returning to North Carolina due to a family emergency (one that didn’t exist). If she just randomly fled, she’d certainly be guilty!
Catching word that Clara had wound up in Mapleview, Cora decided to lie low in the small town herself. 
And yes, I made the TikTok meme real. Yes, she’s an “accountant.”
Only not really, she doesn’t use OnlyFans. Whenever she’s “commuting” to that place accountants work… she’s in some one town or another in the mountains, scouting talent. will there be a “nightclub” in mapleview soon?? actually probably not bc it’s so small. but one nearby?? YES!! 
Old habits die hard! 
But May, she may’ve been able to live off of the madam money for a few years, but it must’ve run out by now?
You’re right! I’m currently doing more research into this, but some years ago, she bought out and now owns a nightclub in Asheville!
But May, isn’t that a little far away to be there everyday? And what about her plans? And why would she still have to say she’s an accountant if being a nightclub owner isn’t taboo?
She has hired a manager she trusts greatly and goes down there to oversee things in person perhaps only twice a week! The manager reports to her!
The manager also knows of her plans and aids her in scouting talent! And she does have dirt on the manager as a backup!
And, considering what the club will be turned into, it’s best to keep it mum!
Honestly there are some other things I want to say, but I just remembered Tumblr’s read-more feature broke :)
tl;dr 
(consult trigger list! much lighter in this portion but jic!) born to whitworths who weren’t awful parents but also weren’t stupendous parents i think they just sometimes forgot they were parents! decided to pull a stephen crane and go “study humanity” instead of like… go to college or enter the workforce… wound up in d.c. without much money. ppl in the sus districts were like “omg stay with me! s2g nthn creepy j offering a hand!” which was mostly true! some were like “sex work is lucrative.” she was like “omg ur right.” a young cora became a streetwalker. around 21, one of the johns was like “hi im not actually a john im a pimp do u want to be pimped it’s really cool.” and she was like “omg ya.” but he was pinocchio :\ that being said i feel like i shld mention that while this particular sex work wasn’t necessarily clean, guy at least made testing a thing. some years pass and he’s like “ur great im gonna act like ur my gf and that i’m the only person in ur world but also u still have to sleep w these guys bc i do love money.” good thing about that was that she overheard some of the business talk. bad thing was that he sucked and also liked even seedier things. some years go by and seedier things kill him tho! now catch cora, late 20s or early 30s idk, being like “well with this money… oh wow i have an idea.” was like “gonna convert this cheap empty place into a brothel i mean nightclub.” was almost broke after that but one of the pimp’s girls was like “wait i’ll come along!” soon had a lot of ppl. soon became successful and was actually as humane as a brothel cld be!! evaded the police narrowly, but evaded them. they started rly closing in at one point tho so she was like “oh no family emergency in nc here my best girl i mean u, girl, u r now in charge idk how that works my pimp just died.” went to mapleview. is an “accountant” and by “accountant” i mean that tiktok meme only more extreme bc she’s being a talent scout. old habits… die hard…
personality/misc.
if this bitch ain’t able 2 make her own way,,,, idk who is. (after moving to dc bc u kno financial status in boone wasnt awful or anything) real rags to riches story. benjamin franklin wld be so proud. she found the way to wealth.
probs sleeps on silk sheets covered in rose petals??
tbh tho?? absolute contradiction. manages 2 care a lot and also not care at all. rly depends on where the person stands. rly depends on the relatability. wld probs be a good mom but has no plans of becoming one!!!!!!!! too busy being an accountant!!!!!!
what,, is trust?? what,, is love?? (baby don’t hurt me)
i’m flying by the seat of my pants rn i suddenly got v distracted but!! maybe more will be added when tumblr FIXES ITS DAMN SELF.
connection ideas:
well we got the rest of her siblings over on the npc page and honestly w how different it seems clara and cora turned out,,,, wld be so curious 2 learn wtf everyone else is doing. r they being normal or r they also wilding??? j in different ways??? (0/2)
i’m hesitant to say someone she’s a parental figure to bc honestly,,, those exhaust me sometimes ahfdslk,,, but!! u kno what someone she’s ironically a good influence on (0/2?)
she got a mostly friendly front but bitch!! someone she’s a bad influence on!! (0/2)
some current or past flings (any gender, but keeping age in mind, past wld be like 43+ pls,,,current like 40+?) (0/?)
if anyone lived in boone, some old friends from boone (0/?)
if anyone lived in dc, some ppl she knew in dc (0/?)
also always up for brainstorming or j working off of chemistry!!
feel free to like this or hmu if you’d like to plot !
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steepgan · 4 years
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my self indulgent iwa x me fic that could most definitely be interpreted as heterosexual longing
I shifted around awkwardly in the plastic of my seat.
Trains were never attractive to me; at least, they weren’t my favorite method of transportation. It always smelled like rot. It could have been the dirtied cheap walls of the vehicle or the exhausted people sitting sporadically across the train, tired out from a  day’s worth of work. 
It was funny how much I despised trains, yet it was my first choice when I decided to commute to the city—just for today. I didn’t know why today, out of all the days, I had chosen to visit the city. There was this incessant, primal urge in me to run away without consequence. Of course, consequences did tend to chase after adults in the end, but it was nice while it lasted.
The city was nice. Dirty as usual but nice nonetheless. There was nothing there that caught my eye except for humans—homeless—affected by capitalism and bright vegan shops on the other side of the city that paid no mind to the former.
My cheek was turned the other way, and I was facing the window of the train. I watched the graffiti on concrete; the gray walls whizz past me in a blur of colors that were nearly impossible to catch had I not focused my eyes on them.
The plastic of my chair seemed to stick to the bottom of my thighs. I shifted again. I coveted leather or polyester seats. It was uncomfortable here. No one paid me any mind; everyone’s eyes were focused on their phones or woefully closed, finally succumbing to temporary death.
I ought to do that myself. Sleep sounded nice. 
Of course, just as I was about to close my eyes, the train stopped. I nearly jolted out of my seat but maintained my composure and brushed off any sign of fright. Instead, I crossed my legs and watched the handlebars above me swing around like little swing sets on a playground.
The train doors opened and people trickled in one by one. The first passenger was an elderly woman with romantic eyes and a persimmon-orange handbag. The next was a young man around my age with a cheap jean jacket and an undaunted frame. Then there was a family of three—two mothers and their boisterous son. After that, I lost count.
Soon the doors of the train closed with a familiar click. I sighed and leaned back into my seat. The elderly woman found a decent spot across from my chair, pulling her bag close to her chest as she drifted off into sleep. The family sat in the back, calming their son and pulling out a small children’s tale. The young man opted to sit behind me, his back facing my back.
The chairs were situated so that the backs were against each other. I didn’t get a very good look at his face as much as I wanted to (damn my curiosity). It seemed I had a strange interest in anyone who was my age these days. It was either poorly concealed romance or competition to see whose life was better.
I looked at the window once again. This time, I focused on my reflection—as much as I preferred not to. I looked sweaty and gross from spending the whole day in the city. My eyes slid over to the boy’s reflection. 
His eyes caught mine.
I quickly turned away, embarrassed. I fiddled with my hands, as my phone was on its last limb at the moment and tucked away in my back pocket. The boy seemed to pay me no mind as he got comfortable in his seat, the ends of his uncombed hair tickling my neck.
His cheap jean jacket scraped against the plastic. I uncrossed my legs and crossed the other leg over for more variation in my life. He pulled out his phone briefly—I could hear the movements of him retrieving the electronic from his jacket. Then he turned it off and tucked it back in.
It was nice.
I liked this. I don’t know why I liked this so much. I hated trains. I hated sticky, plastic seats. I hated the smell of rot. I hated the city. But I liked this. 
Every so often, his hair would brush against mine, and he’d let out a mumble of incoherent words—Japanese, maybe? Certainly not Latin. The train would come to many halts, and the doors would open many times, but for two hours, he and I did not move very much.
My eyes fell to the window again. I caught a mirror of his side profile. He had a sharp jawline and straight nose with sunkissed skin. His eyes were dark and complacent, as if he knew so many things and was willing to know so much more. His murky hair fell over his eyes softly like snow, and he’d occasionally blink out the stray longer strands, indicating that his hands weren’t available.
Then I’d look away. And I’d wonder if he was doing the same to me.
What was he looking at? His eyes had been focused on his lap. He wasn’t on his phone, I was sure of it. By the looks of it, he was a student. He was a student just like me. I wondered what he was studying. I wondered where he studied.
I felt like little Ginkgo. This boy—this stranger I hardly knew—would be my moon. What was in his lap was the sun. But perhaps in this tale, I would never capture his attention.
He looked stressed. I wanted to tell him that he could do anything but not everything, but maybe he had already heard of this from someone before me. Someone more relevant in his life.
The boy and I, in all ways, might have been incompatible and never meant to be. The sound of papers came from the boy’s side of the seat. It was like a crackle of a fire. It sounded like the fiery ball of apprehensiveness inside of me that wouldn’t stay still.
I opened my mouth.
No. It seemed impossible. Something told me to bite my tongue. Not now, this voice said. Later on, this voice added. 
Not now.
So I waited.
I waited until the digital clock in front of me passed five minutes, then passed ten. It turned into thirty minutes and then into an hour. 
Still the voice inside of me insisted that I wait.
I was patient. I’d wait. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, but I was willing to wait. Every word that I could have said, that I wanted to say, was sitting inside of me, waiting to be used by me.
Every part of me was waiting, whether I knew it or not.
Then, the train stopped.
The boy looked up at the destination. He gathered his items. His hair tickled the back of my neck again—and for the last time—as he stood up and dusted his pants off. I didn’t notice this before, but he had a black backpack strapped onto him.
A student, definitely.
Just as the train doors opened, the boy glanced at me.
I pursed my lips and nodded.
He had been waiting, too, I felt. Maybe not for me. Maybe for his destination. Maybe we had all been waiting for something. Maybe I was delusional.
I don’t think he and I could have been something worth the wait in this lifetime. In another life, I might have had him. All this waiting, and waiting, and waiting must lead up to something, yes?
Maybe another life is what I was waiting for.
If I couldn’t have him in this life, then perhaps the next.
And in this next life, we might have been something worth the wait. Time was what everyone coveted these days—right next to money, which was right next to love, which was right next to success (which, in all honesty, might have been a combination of all three). 
He and I could be cut out for so much more. But not in this life. Not yet. Not here.
The boy looked at me with inquisitive eyes. He looked like the moon. He nodded back, and he left the train, promptly turning left with the long strides of a tried and true athlete.
I don’t think he and I might have worked out well, anyway. As much as I wished it could, there was that burning reality that settled into my chest. The same fiery ball of apprehensiveness that I had felt was now burning holes through my lungs.
Oh, well.
The plastic of my chair seemed to stick to the bottom of my thighs. I shifted again. I coveted leather or polyester seats. It was uncomfortable here. No one paid me any mind; everyone’s eyes were focused on their phones or woefully closed, finally succumbing to temporary death.
I ought to do that myself. Sleep sounded nice. 
And this time, I slept.
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Avengers Assemble
I finished this fic I started around June 2017 after seeing THIS POST for the first time.
Also posted over on AO3.
Tony was the first to notice that something was up with Darcy, though he didn’t understand what it meant at the time. He’d wandered out of his lab at a little after three in the morning and registered a humanoid shape curled up on the couch in Lab 7. A closer inspection revealed a mess of brown hair spilling out from under a purple coat, and he just figured Darcy had decided to crash at the tower after a long night sciencing with Jane and wanted to avoid a commute cutting into time better spent asleep. Not something she’d ever done before (she usually crashed on the couch in Jane and Thor’s apartment a few floors down) but he wasn’t exactly in a position to comment on other people's life choices, so just left her to it. Though he did place a wake up call with JARVIS on her behalf so she had a chance to get cleaned up before the first scientists showed up in a few hours. Never let it be said that he wasn’t a benevolent overlord.
Clint was the first to notice that something was terribly amiss, though it took him until he finished his first pot of coffee to figure it out. To be fair to the archer, he had only just stumbled out of bed following a solid twelve hour post-mission nap; people in comas slept lighter. Regardless, Natasha was going to kick his ass for being so off his game if she found out. ...when she found out.
He stared into the empty glass carafe pondering the futility of existence and why his coffee tasted off. True, he was no connoisseur and would drink anything as long as it was hot and black, or even lukewarm and black, but there was something off about this particular pot of coffee, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that insisted that some key flavour profile was missing…
“Donuts,” he mumbled groggily, wandering around the kitchen island in sweats and a grubby t-shirt, scouring the countertops as if a large white box of cinnamon-covered goodness could somehow be hiding in plain sight. “JARVIS,” he called out when his thorough search failed to yield any donuts. 
“Yes, Agent Barton?”
“It’s Friday, right?”
“Friday the 12th to be precise.”
“Huh…”
“Is everything alright, Agent Barton? Have you lost time? Should I call for medical assistance?”
“No, nothing like that JARVIS. But, um, did Darcy call out sick today?”
“Miss Lewis arrived at the tower at 12:16am this morning, and has been working at her desk since 7:53am.”
“What? Why?” Clint demanded.
“She did not tell me, and I had no grounds on which to ask. Her security clearance allows her access to Doctor Foster’s laboratory 24hrs a day.”
“Right…” Clint mused. It wasn’t implausible that Darcy was working weird hours, and yet… “Was Foster in the labs with Darcy all night?”
“Doctor Foster returned to her suite at a very reasonable 9:26pm and returned to the laboratory floor at 8:04am.”
Clint’s brow crinkled in thought as he waited for the carafe to refill, considering all possible reasons for the change in Darcy’s routine but, call him a pessimist, none of them were good. He worked through his second pot of coffee while he showered and dressed, returning the empty carafe to the kitchen before seeking Darcy out.
When he reached the lab floor and saw Darcy sitting in front of her computer, her heavy-handed makeup reminding him uncomfortably of his mother. He tried to ignore the coil of anxiety in his belly, smiling as he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.
“Morning Darcy-Lou.”
Darcy flinched at his overly cheerful greeting and the coil in his gut snapped from the tension.
“Hey Clint,” she replied shakily, keeping her eyes glued to her screen. “What brings you up here?”
“Well, it’s Friday and I couldn’t help but notice a distinct lack of baked goods in the kitchen,” he teased, studying her every move.
“I didn’t have time,” Darcy snapped.
“Whoa, it’s cool,” Clint put his hands up in surrender. “You don’t owe us donuts, it’s just that it’s a break in your routine and it makes my spy senses go all tingly. Everything alright?” he asked kindly, noting the way she refused to meet his gaze.
“I’m fine,” Darcy replied with an edge of forced cheerfulness. Clint fake-smiled back.
“Alright, well, I can’t stop thinking about donuts so I’m going to head down to the bakery on the corner and grab a box. You want me to bring you back anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine,” she repeated absently, fixing her gaze back on her screen.
“See you ‘round, Darcy-Lou,” Clint waved as he headed to the bank of elevators. His smile faded away as the doors closed and he asked JARVIS to take him to the nearest Security office.
Jane was the first to get the truth from Darcy, if you didn’t count Clint reading their lips off the security feed.
“Shit!” Darcy muttered and threw her phone down in disgust.
The sound broke Jane’s train of thought. She blinked for the first time in twenty minutes and registered the complete and utter absence of background noise.
“Darcy…” 
“Yeah?” 
“You’re not playing music,” Jane, she of three degrees, finally noticed at 11am.
“Um, no. I’ve got a bit of a headache.”
“Then why aren’t you playing your ‘Super Chill’ playlist? You always play music.”
“I guess I didn't feel like it.”
“Are you sick?”
Jane rushed over and placed a hand on Darcy's forehead so forcibly it gave her assistant whiplash. Darcy tried to squirm out of Jane’s grasp and when the astrophysicist’s hand brushed against her cheek she winced.
“Darcy!”
“I’m fine, Jane,” Darcy swore, turning her bruised face away.
“You’re not fine,” Jane replied, twisting Darcy’s office chair around until she had to face her. “What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Darcy grumbled stubbornly.
Jane knelt down in front of her best friend, clasping her hands tightly. 
“Please tell me what happened, Darcy. Let me help you.”
“You can’t help…” Darcy started, tearing up. 
“Are you sure? What about Thor? Or me, Thor, and a puppy?”
That got a watery chuckle. “I wouldn’t say no to a puppy.” Jane stayed where she was, eyes growing cartoonishly large as she implored her friend to open up. Darcy relented with a sigh. “You know how my roommate practically moved her boyfriend in without running it past me first?”
“I vaguely recall you complaining about him for three days straight last month.”
“Yeah, well, it hadn’t been too bad. I’m hardly ever there and when I am they pretty much stay holed up in her bedroom, so it’s been whatever. But my roommate has been away for most of the week for some work conference and has left her boyfriend behind unsupervised.”
“What did he do?” Jane asked, trying to keep her tone even and not let her imagination wander into dark corners. 
“First he was just obnoxious, taking over the living room, playing Call of Duty until four in the morning, leaving empty takeout containers everywhere. And then…” she sniffled.
“And then…”
“He started hitting on me. Just straight up eggplant emoji level of subtlety, you know. I said no, obviously. Told him to back off or I’d tell his girlfriend. That seemed to work; he went back to inconsiderate roommate mode. But I didn’t want to be alone with him any more than I had to be so I called up some girlfriends from college and we went out for drinks last night. It was Ladies Night at my favourite bar; half price margaritas. And maybe I had too many drinks for a work night...”
“Darcy,” Jane interjected. “What happened when you got home?”
“He was still up playing Call of Duty. The second he saw me stumbling towards the kitchen for a glass of water he started circling me like a vulture. He got handsy, tried to herd me towards the couch.”
“Please tell me you tased him,” Jane begged.
To her relief Darcy nodded. “And then I just ran. The next thing I knew I was on the train headed for Manhattan so I came back here. I crashed on the couch and JARVIS woke me up when it was time to start work.”
Jane processed Darcy’s story, but there was a detail missing. “How did you get that bruise on your face, Darce?”
“He... kinda slapped me.”
“Kinda?”
“Well, he was trying to grab me, and then he was flailing about from 50,000 volts to the chest, and I was still within arms reach so I caught a fist to the face. It wasn’t like he punched me on purpose or anything.”
“No, of course not. He only tried to force himself on you while you were drunk.” 
“Yeah, that,” Darcy sniffled miserably.
“Did you tell your roommate what happened? Is she going to kick him out?”
Darcy laughed, short and cold. “I hadn’t had a chance to tell her, but he must have called her last night as soon as he stopped twitching. I had a text waiting for me when I woke up saying she wanted me gone by the time she got back tomorrow. Apparently in his version of events my drunk ass hit on him and got violent when he, honest and faithful boyfriend that he is, turned me down.” Darcy to swipe irritably at her wet cheeks and blow her nose. “So I’ve spent all morning trying to find a new place, and the last hour texting this asshole, trying to get him the fuck out of the apartment so I can go get my stuff, but he’s demanding a face to face. Says he’s sorry and wants to apologise, but more likely he just wants to make sure I’m not going to correct his story. … I can’t be alone with him, Jane,” she cried anew.
“And you won’t have to be,” Jane swore handing her another tissue. Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by her name flashing in large, bright blue letters on a holographic whiteboard on the other side of the lab.
JANE
TAKE DARCY TO LUNCH
WE’LL HANDLE IT
- CLINT
Jane quickly sent a grateful smile to the nearest security camera before turning her attention back to Darcy. 
“Hey, how about we forget about that asshole for a couple of hours. We’ll grab something to eat then come back here and figure out a plan of attack, okay? I’m not going to let you do this alone,” she promised, standing up and offering up a rare hug that Darcy was all too happy to accept.
“Thanks, Janie.” 
They grabbed their bags and headed for the elevator bank arm in arm. “So, where do you want to go for lunch?” Darcy asked.
“How about Sadelles? I think today calls for matzo ball soup like bubbe used to make.”
“And bagels.”
“And Bloody Marys.”
“And a double cheeseburger,” Darcy sighed hungrily. 
“Whatever you want,” Jane laughed as the doors to Elevator 1 closed behind them.
A few floors away the doors to Elevator 2 opened onto the communal Avengers floor and Clint stepped out into a room full of antsy superheroes. Tony was seated at the nearest table sucking down on some radioactive looking smoothie while Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Thor were standing at half-assed attention awaiting orders.
“Since when are you calling Assembles?” Steve queried casually, not at all paranoid that he was being kept out of the loop on something important.
“Yeah, and since when do we do mission briefings in the breakfast nook?” Tony asked.
“Darcy needs our help,” Clint announced, pausing long enough for everyone to get the wrong idea.
“Where is she?” Thor boomed. “Is Jane with her?”
“Who’s got her?” Bucky demanded, already unsheathing one of the innumerable knives on his person.
“Whoa! Everyone, stand down. Jane and Darcy are fine. They’ve gone to lunch.”
The silence was deafening.
“So… they need help paying the tab? Because I’m pretty sure I already do that.” Tony snarked. 
“No, listen,” Clint tried to explain over five riled up superjerks. “Long story short: Darcy’s roommate’s out of town, her boyfriend stayed behind and he’s been making Darcy uncomfortable, to say the least. Last night Darcy came home drunk and he tried to take advantage of the situation. She tasered him and came here.”
“Shit,” Tony mumbled. “I was wondering why I found her crashed out on the lab couch at 3am. I just thought she had Jane had pulled an all nighter or something.”
“Is she okay?” Steve asked.
“She’s mostly rattled, a little bruised, and by the time she gets back from lunch I think she’s going to move onto being plain furious. She wants to get the hell out of that apartment but the guy’s refusing to leave, practically holding her stuff hostage until she agrees to talk to him.”
“Like hell she’s going back there,” Sam swore. “What’s the address?”
Clint smiled as the rest of the assembled Avengers quickly got on the same page. Tony rose from his seat, tapping away on his phone.
“JARVIS has called up a couple of cars for you and plugged Darcy’s address into the GPS. One of the maintenance guys should meet you down there with some moving boxes.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m going to attack this from a different angle,” he replied cryptically, leading the way to the elevators.
Half an hour later two large black SUVs pulled up out the front of an apartment building in Brooklyn and 60% of the Avengers current lineup got out. They ignored the curious stares and frantic fumbling for phones going on around them and headed up to Darcy’s apartment, arguing amongst themselves about the best approach. In the end Sam, declaring himself the most normal human and least well-known of the group took the lead, insisting the others stay out of sight while he tried the two rational adults approach, where one of the adults totally doesn’t want to kick the other adult’s ass. It was not his most believable performance.
“Hey man, I’m Sam,” he greeted gruffly when the door finally opened, his intimidating-outside-of-the-Avengers arms crossed over his impressive-outside-of-the-Avengers chest. “Darcy sent me to pick up her stuff.”
The door was slammed in his face and Clint shoved his way to the front of the line.
“C’mon asshole,” he called, banging on the door. “Let us grab Darcy’s things and we’ll get out of your hair.”
The asshole in question yanked the door open and, not that he knew it at that moment, cursed out a couple of Avengers. “If the bitch wants her stuff back she can damn well come and get it herself and stop sending wannabe gym rats to do her dirty work.”
“Gym rats?” Clint’s much-broken nose tried to wrinkle in confusion.
“Enough of these games,” Thor growled, pushing Sam, Clint, and the door out of the way.
“What the hell!” the asshole squealed as broken shards of the door and a 7ft tall Norse god came at him with avengence..
“You dare to tarnish Lady Darcy’s honour? To lay your unworthy hands upon her?!” he roared, stopping just short of grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against the wall. Humans were rather fragile, or so he was often reminded. 
“What… what… who?” the asshole stuttered, his mind on the fasttrack to a psychotic break as the rest of the Avengers followed Thor into the apartment.
“You hurt Darcy, we hurt you,” Bucky translated, taking up sentry duty by the broken door in case the asshole tried to make a run for it. 
Sam and Steve glared at the asshole on their way to Darcy’s bedroom (Clint had pointed it out, having been there once before when he’d been bribed into help Darcy move in almost a year ago) while Clint headed for the kitchen. Thor thought the best use of his time was to remain looming over the guy until he wet himself. 
“Ooh! Cranberry Kitchenaid. Definitely Darcy’s. She wouldn’t shut up about this thing,” Clint mused to himself as he boxed it, and all novelty baking and cookware items he could find, up.
Thor soon got bored and wandered around the small living area. “Does this belong to Lady Darcy?” he enquired, lifting up a three seater couch like it weighed nothing. 
“Don’t think so.”
Thor dropped it from three feet up and took no small amount of pleasure in the way the asshole flinched.
“What the hell…” he muttered to himself several times before finding his voice. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!”
“1. Not your apartment. 2. We told you: we’re here to get Darcy’s stuff, since you were being an asshole about it.”
“But… you’re the Avengers.”
“Yeah, and we’re here to grab Darcy’s stuff and put the fear of Norse gods into you. Keep up,” Clint replied, turning his attention to the contents of the refrigerator now that he had collected everything from the kitchen cupboards that seemed like it belonged to Darcy (shot glasses from a bar in New Mexico, a Culver U coffee mug, a collection rainbow-handled utensils…).
“But you’re the Avengers.”
“…did you seriously not know that Lewis was besties with Thor? Lewis. Darcy Lewis,” Clint clarified when he received only a blank, stunned stare in reply. “Jesus H Christ… You’ve seriously never even had a conversation with her, have you?” Clint spat, abandoning his hastily assembled sandwich in disgust only to pick it back and continue eating; it wasn’t the sandwich’s fault.
“What about this television?” Thor asked, ripping the thing right out of the wall.
After a pointed moment Bucky voted, “Leave it. Stark’ll buy her a better one.”
“Everything okay out here?” Sam asked, regarding Thor’s attempt to remount the TV into the recently made hole in the wall with feigned disinterest.
“All good.”
“You gonna make yourself useful, Barnes?” Sam griped, dragging a suitcase crammed full of Darcy’s wardrobe contents towards the door.
“I am being useful,” Bucky countered, pulling a whetstone from his tac suit and glaring at the asshole as he slowly dragged his favourite knife across it.
“Real helpful,” Sam muttered, heading back to the bedroom.
Clint finished off his sandwich and had a quick look around the shared bathroom. He nabbed a few of the products that looked expensive and/or smelled like Darcy, but everything else looked easily replaceable. He added the bottles to his kitchen box and called out to the rest of the team, “We done yet?”
“Almost,” Steve called back, tossing another huge suitcase from the depths of the bedroom to Thor who caught it easily. He followed Sam out, carrying two boxes to Sam’s three, who was struggling under the weight of Darcy’s innumerable books and assorted knickknacks but refused to admit within earshot of Bucky that he needed help. Steve passed off his boxes to Bucky and indicated that the rest of the team should head out. Bucky grabbed the second suitcase and tucked it under his metal arm, beaming obnoxiously at Sam as he passed him in the hallway.
Steve meanwhile made his way over to where the asshole was still cowering against the wall. “I know it goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway: you contact Darcy again, you so much as breathe in her direction, I will have my friend Carol take you into outer space, except she doesn’t use a spaceship, and we see how long it takes for your head to explode. ...Got it?”
“Captain America is threatening me?”
Steve gave the asshole his patented USO smile, “Yeah, but no one would ever believe you.”
The asshole could only nod mutely as Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, exited the apartment and closed what was left of the door behind him. Two seconds later his cell phone rang. He was still in shock and couldn’t remember answering it, but the next thing he knew his phone was on speaker and someone was addressing him.
“Is this the asshole currently trembling in Apartment 4C.” 
“Uhhh…” the asshole’s brain flatlined as the man on the other end of the phone rattled off information that could only have been obtained through a very thorough background check.
“... the asshole whose Social Security Number is 498619842? The asshole who got busted for pot possession in 2015 and 2017? The guy who spent the night of his 15th birthday buying several porn subscriptions on his mother's credit card then let her think that some stranger had stolen it and racked up the charges?”
A very, very thorough background check.
“How…”
“This is Tony Stark. Just a courtesy call to let you know that I now own the apartment you’re currently squatting in. Actually, I own the whole building. And my people have already been in contact with your girlfriend and advised her of a little clause that I’ve added to the lease: if she wants to resign next month, you are not allowed to live with her - and I will know if she violates the terms of her lease. So that’ll be a fun conversation for you. But I’m sure you’ll be fine. I mean, what woman in her right mind would choose a cheap, rent controlled, fully renovated apartment in New York City over a cheating boyfriend slash burgeoning rapist?”
The call disconnected around the same time the asshole’s legs gave out and he became a puddle of terrified goo on the floor.
Darcy returned to the tower after an epic two hour lunch date with Jane feeling much better about the last twelve and a bit hours, and was ready to hand the asshole his ass. But with Jane coming back to the apartment with her after work, distracting him with the kind of vitriol she usually reserved for old white men who were tightfisted with university grant money, Darcy was confident she should be able to get in and out without too many hassles (or assault charges).
“82nd floor, if you please JARVIS,” Darcy instructed as they stepped into the elevator. 
“If you’ll indulge me, Miss Lewis, I’ve been instructed to take you to the 54th floor.”
“That’s one of the residential floors,” Jane realised. “Isn’t that floor still under construction?”
Before JARVIS could answer the elevator doors opened to an impatient Tony Stark.
“Minions, follow me.”
“What’s going on, Tony?” Darcy demanded as her boss’s boss led them through a bare  hallway painted base coat white.
“Heard you were in need of a place to crash, so I thought I’d give you an apartment.”
Before either of them could determine how much Tony knew, and how he knew it, he stopped in front of a seemingly random door and threw it open.
“Surprise!!”
“What the fuck!” Darcy shouted, not that she could hear herself over the carousing of half the Avengers line up. “What the fuck?” she repeated when the noise died down. 
“Well, Clint here gave us a quick rundown of what happened - we’re glad you’re alright, by the way.”
“But how did you know?”
“Donuts,” Clint teased, earning confusing glances from everyone not in on the joke. “Well, donuts and security cameras.”
“Clint sent me a message on one of Tony’s hi tech whiteboards while I was talking to you,” Jane admitted. “He told me to take you to lunch but I had no idea they were going to do this.” 
“But what is all this?”
“This is your stuff,” Clint grinned doing his best Vanna White at the small collection of boxes and suitcases.”
“We paid the scoundrel a visit he won’t soon forget and liberated your belongings so you needn’t see him again.”
“We pretty much cleaned out your bedroom, but left the furniture. Sam said it was all just IKEA stuff so it probably didn’t hold much sentimental value,” Steve explained.
“It didn’t,” Darcy assured him, almost moved to tears by their actions.
“So, I know this place looks pretty bleak right now, but I promise it’s liveable - water and power have been hooked up, and I’ve got a basic bed being delivered in the next hour or so you don’t have to sleep on the floor. And Pepper will be in touch sometime this afternoon to set up a meeting with her interior designer so you can Darcy it up however you like on my dime. Aaaand you look like you’re going to hug me so I’m going to leave now.”
Darcy laughed at Tony’s retreating back before redirecting her attention and affection on the rest of her personal heroes. “Thank you guys so much. I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.”
“You’re more than welcome, Darcy-Lou,” Clint replied, going in for a hug. He squeezed her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before making way for the next guy in line.
“I’m glad you’re alright, Darcy. If we left anything important behind just let me know. I’d be happy to pay him another visit.”
“I’m sure you would, Cap. Thank you.”
Bucky shuffled forward. “Darcy.”
“Bucky.”
“We didn’t much like the idea of living you down here by yourself, so to make you feel a bit safer at night, or maybe not,” he mumbled, hiding behind his hair. “I’m gonna move down into the room across the hall. At least until they finish up on this floor and start getting other people in here.”
Darcy’s arms were thrown around his neck before he could finish.
“Thank you.”
Hug her back, you idiot, Sam mouthed, choking on his laughter when Bucky awkwardly patted her on the back. He pushed Bucky out of the way and showed him what a hug was supposed to look like. “And if you want to hit the clubs and you want some added security…” he proposed with a little shimmy that pulled a laugh from Darcy and Steve (Bucky just rolled his eyes). 
“I know who to call.”
“We’ll leave you to it - and see you at dinner, right?” Sam called back as the three musketeers headed for the elevators.  
“Absolutely!”
And then it was just Thor and Jane, both of them regarding her with kind smiles and sad eyes.
“I am sorry he harmed you, Darcy. One word from you and I will throw him in the deepest, darkest cell on Asgard until he rots.”
“Thanks big guy. But you’ve done more than enough.”
“So… what now?” Jane asked, reaching for Thor’s hand. “Did you want to come back down to the labs until your bed gets here?”
“I think I’ll check out my new digs for a bit. Maybe rummage through the boxes and see what the guys managed to grab for me and make a list of what I need to replace....”
“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”
“I’m going to be fine, Janey,” Darcy replied, smiling to herself when it occurred to her just how true those words were. She was going to be fine.
[Post Credit Scene]
As it turned out, Tony’s idea of a “basic” bed was a king sized mattress and base - which none of Darcy’s current bedding fit. 
Pepper and her favourite interior designer had been and gone, dinner was another hour away, and Darcy was doing her best to make up her new bed regardless of her ill fitting sheets, figuring if worse came to worst she’d just roll herself up like a burrito, when there was a knock at her new front door.
“Nat! When did you get in?” 
“About two hours ago,” she replied, pushing past Darcy with a moving box balanced on her hip. “Clint told me what happened.”
���Oh no,” Darcy sighed, eying the box warily. “What did you do? Is he…you know...”
“Still breathing? Still in possession of all his limbs and both his testicles?” 
“Yeah, those things.”
“Reluctantly. You could have called me,” she added quietly. 
“You were on a mission,” Darcy shrugged. “And I kind of wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Well, thank goodness Clint knows when to leave well alone and when to go at a problem like a dog with a bone.”
“You taught him well,” Darcy teased, which earned a small snort of amusement from the Black Widow. “Now, not to sound like Brad Pitt but what’s in the box?”
Natasha did a little drumroll on the lid of the box before pulling back the flaps. “I have… every roll of toilet paper in the apartment and half a dozen shoelaces - one from every pair of shoes he owns.”
“Is that all? Not that it’s not amazing,” she giggled. “But it seems kinda… small potatoes for a talented spysassin like yourself.”
“I may have also added a minced ghost pepper to his aftershave. And infected all of his devices with this special little virus that will crash his games just before he reaches a save point.”
“Oh my god, that’s devious! I love it!”
“You’re welcome,” she smirked. “And since that only took me like fifteen minutes after the world's shortest debriefing I had time to stop off on the way back for some of your favourite rotgut in case you were interested in a nightcap,” she announced, pulling a bottle of tequila from the box.
“Jose Cuervo isn’t not rotgut… But I’m kinda off the tequila at the moment,” Darcy admitted quietly.
“Well, luckily for you, I also picked up a bottle of my favourite rotgut,” she smiled, presenting Darcy with a bottle of unpronounceable, high proof vodka.
Darcy laughed and reached for the tacky shot glasses Clint had rescued from her old apartment and let Natasha do the honors. 
“Hey, do you have any missions on the horizon?” Darcy spluttered after the first shot.
“Nothing planned, why?”
“Pepper’s interior designer reckons she can have my apartment fully painted and furnished by this time next week. I was thinking I might host a little family dinner. Sort of a housewarming slash thanks for having my back party? I’ll bake that coffee chocolate cake Clint loves and put in orders with like, four of the team's favourite takeout places...”
“I’m in. As long as I get to be on cocktails,” Nat said as she poured another round.
Darcy clinked their glasses together with a smile. “Deal.”
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fluffydragon22 · 3 years
Text
2.13 : The Sudden Shift
I woke up at 5 am the next morning. My legs were already fine but i could feel that i was sweating so much when i slept. But i couldn't remember when i fell asleep.
I got up and made a cup of hot tea. It was still early in the morning so i had plenty of time to just enjoy the view. The letter that i wrote was still there. Nothing's changed in the room, so i took a conclusion that the observer didn't appear when i was sleeping.
Hours passed, the sun started to rise, and the street started to get crowded as people began their Saturday. But there were no replies from Lily after i sent a good morning text. So i decided to go outside just to enjoy a bit of walking.
I walked towards the train station. I didn't have any destination that i had to go to. So i just tapped my card, got into the station, and waited for a commuter line to the city center. When the commuter line arrived, i quickly got in and found a seat. It was Saturday after all so there were not as many people as it was like the weekday.
After getting off the train, i got into my favourite restaurant near the station to have some breakfast. The place was a bit crowded but luckily i found a seat. I ordered a glass of milk and a fried rice. Then i started to read the novel that i brought with me, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, which was written by Haruki Murakami.
After about an hour, i put the book back in my bag and paid for my food. Then i walked towards the park. Along the way, i checked my phone and there were no messages or calls from anyone.
"Perhaps i'm invisible, perhaps i only become exist when people need me." I whispered to myself.
But it was true, at least that was how i felt it back then. Everytime my friends planned something, i would be the last to be invited. Sometimes Sarah would be the only one to invite me on the last minute. But i wasn't mad, even if i had the chance, i wouldn't get mad. There was no clear reason for me to get mad at my friends. After all, being invited was already more than enough.
I arrived at the park and sat down on the bench overlooking the small lake. The park was a bit crowded but i found a place which had the least number of people. I sat there while drinking my mineral water.
It was a beautiful day. The clouds seemed to be tired to show up. So the blue colour filled the sky. It was beautiful outside, but inside me, it wasn't so beautiful. At least that's how it was that day.
Shortly after 1 pm, i decided to go back to my place. I took the same route, took a train, and walked aimlessly around my university. The dark clouds were moving towards the west and it could be raining any moment. But i didn't care. If i go back to my place, i couldn't enjoy the rain.
As expected, the rain was pouring down around 1.35 pm. I decided to wait for the rain under a bus stop so my clothes and my bag wouldn't get soaked. There were only four people in the bus stop. They all seemed to be disappointed because of the rain.
Suddenly, my phone rang. I thought it was a phone call, turned out it was a couple of messages. Which was from Lily. I was surely a bit surprised then hurriedly opened the message.
"Hi Adrian, i'm sorry about last night, and today." She said in her first message.
"Can we have a video call tonight?" She asked in her second message.
Without wasting time, i replied her message.
"No no, don't be sorry, it's okay. Of course we can. Just let me know the time." I sent the reply.
But then, no reply came. The rain stopped about 30 minutes later and i decided to go back to my place as quickly as possible. As soon as i arrived, i changed my clothes, threw the one i just used to the basket, and made myself a cup of hot tea.
As i'm watching the rain fell down through the window. I thought about my friends. How i've been left out by them, how i've been 'thrown out' of the groups quietly and slowly. But the more i thought of it, the more i realized that i should be the one to blame for that. How i declined a few invitations from them because the schedule collided with my schedule with Lily. Nobody should be blamed except me.
"Why didn't you come to Rachel's house?" David asked me sometime when we were still in vacation period.
"Uh sorry man, i had a date as well with Lily." I answered him.
"That was the third time you didn't come because of going for a date." He said. I saw a disappointment on his face.
"Well i will come on the next time, surely." I told him awkwardly.
But as most of the things in our lives, three is the limit of the chance that will be given before the opportunity itself gone. I guess i didn't stand another chance within them.
I kept remembering it as the day turned into night. The rain was still falling down and quickly became the music of the night. Then i started to hit by headache and sneezing unstoppably.
At 9, Lily videocalled me and i answered with right away. She looked tired and i gave her a few words that i usually did to cheer her up. Long story short, it didn't work. I was terribly bad at giving some support to people. But about 20 minutes into the call, she noticed that i had a fever.
"You have fever?" She asked me.
"No i don't, it's just, you know, sneezing." I answered, but my voice was already different.
"Go take some rest, goodnight." She said and instantly turned off the call.
I just stared at the screen for a very long time after she turned the call off. Thinking why the fever had to come at this exact moment. But little did i know, the fever itself, was the beginning of my downfall in college.
Exactly three days later, the fever didn't stop. I started to get hit by another symptoms such as losing the appetite, massive weight loss, no strength even to just walking, etc. But somehow until the fourth day, i kept going into the class like nothing happened. On the afternoon during the fourth day, Sarah asked me to accompany her to the supermarket just a few blocks down the road from her place.
"Hi, i hope you're not busy this afternoon because im gonna treat you. I'll wait for you in front of the Library after 4." She said in a voice message.
After my class was over, i straight up went to the Library and waited for her. As usual, she showed up on time.
"Adrian, you look bad. You got fever or something? Have you eaten anything? Can you walk? You want me to take you to your place?" She asked so many things in one breathe, just like how she usually did whenever she got worried.
"I'm okay Sarah. I can accompany you to the supermarket, but buy me something, okay." I answered, i tried to smile but i assumed that i looked more like someone who tries to hold the pain rather than smiling.
"You look pale, you know that?! No way i would take you to the supermarket." She shouted at me. Luckily nobody was around us at that time.
"Chill sis, i walked my way from class to the library. So i can say i'm good to go. No, i don't accept any answer other than okay let's go. Got it?" I told her.
"Huh if you pass out, don't blame me, do we have a deal?" She asked me after a long thinking.
"I won't, but mom surely would ask you." I answered her question and proceeded to grab her tote bag. She carried too much stuff for somebody who wanted to go to the supermarket.
"Mom will definitely believe me more than she believes you." She said as we walked towards the station. The supermarket's shortcut was located right besides the station, so we didn't have to walk that far.
She bought many stuff that afternoon, she labeled it as monthly shopping. Shampoo, toothpaste, lots of canned food, vegetables, drinks, you name it all. Meanwhile i bought some canned food like the one she bought, a few chocolate bars, eggs, and some vegetables that i would cook that night. After that, she took me to the food court to get something to eat.
"Are you okay? Still have strength to get back to your place?" She asked me as we ate our food. I bought a plate of rice and grilled chicken, while she bought a bowl of meatballs.
"Yes, i'm totally okay. See, i told you i could make it." I said proudly.
"Journey hasn't finished yet, monsieur." She said.
"Just a short distance left so no probs, right." I asked her.
"I hope so, i do hope so." She said as she exchanged her bowl with my plate. Tradition, we called it.
"Lily knows?" She asked again.
"No, she is just, busy, i guess." I answered as i took a spoon of meatballs.
"She always busy, huh?" She asked me.
"I don't know..." I answered. I wanted to continue but i couldn't find any words.
"She always had time, back then, right? Why she suddenly gets busy? It's like she suddenly shift her focus off you, don't you think so?" She asked me again.
"I suppose. But i don't want to disturb her. I mean i text her every morning, afternoon, and night. But there are no interest from her." I told Sarah as she enjoyed every bite of the grilled chicken.
"Oh my oh my, my Adrian, don't get trapped again, please. I've known you better than any of your friends, and your girlfriend, and i will always know you better." She stopped for a while to sip her lemon tea.
"How difficult for you to get up from your lowest point, how long it takes, how hard you do it, i know it better than her. For your own good, get the things straight with her. Don't take someone who act like you're a temporary option seriously." She continued.
"But i love her." I said.
"That's a poor excuse. You do know that i love you, right? So that's why i tell you this. Because i care about you. Perhaps more than you care about yourself. More than she does. If you get hurt while you're with somebody and they don't even try to change it, why you should stay?" Sarah asked me as she looked at me deep in my eyes.
I was at lost for words. Everything she said was true. But something inside me resisted it. Suddenly what the observer told me back then coming back.
"Be careful, things started to unfold." The observer's voice echoed in my head.
"I need you to think about it, okay bro?" Lily told me as she tilted her head while looking at me. I felt safe everytime she did it, i didn't know the reason of it.
"Now let's go home. You need some rest." She stood up and took my hand.
"If Lily sees us, i guarantee you she will be mad." Sarah laughed as we were holding hands.
"If that's the case, i don't care about what she says though. We've been doing this since we were kids." I told her. Then we walked outside the supermarket heading towards our place.
We were lucky enough to find our places next to each other. So basically we see each other everyday. That night, we walked for about half hour side by side. Talking about many things, laughing at the old times. Sometimes i asked her to stop to rest for a minute. Then, we arrived at Sarah's place and i gave her the stuff that i carried.
"If anything happens tonight, call me straightaway." She said as she opened the gate.
"Copy that, mademoiselle." I told her.
"I mean it. Don't forget. I will come to check you out at 8 tomorrow. Get some rest, don't play videogames." She said.
"No worries, i will let you know. An hour of play won't be a problem though. Don't you think?" I told her with a bit of laugh.
"Gonna kill you if you do that." She told me as she showed her fist.
"Wow wow chill. I won't play tonight so don't worry. See you tomorrow." I said as we waved to each other.
After cooking some vegetables and canned food, i ate it while looking at the half moon on the sky. No messages from anyone. Only messages about assignments and so on in group chats. My parents had some stuff to take care abroad and hardly contacted me. However, 10 minutes later. My phone rang with a message showing up. It was, unexpectedly, from Lily.
"How are you doing? Are you okay??" She asked me in her message.
"Yep i'm okay. But..." I stopped typing to think about the appropriate words.
"Tell her everything you feel." A voice said. The observer has showed up.
"Not gonna happen tonight. Gotta rest so i will just skip the detail." I told him.
"Your choice. But seriously, it's better if she knows about it, right? Good for your recovery, too." The observer said.
"Let's see what will happen in the next 7 days, then i will decide." I told him. I was running out of strength to say anything.
"Yep, i'm okay, but i will see what happens tomorrow. It's not that bad but not that good either. How about you? Are you okay?" I sent her the message.
"Well well, i can't wait to see it then. Get some rest, be tough. I will comeback tomorrow after you finish your business with Sarah." The observer said as he disappeared.
"Huh, that's fast, observer." I told him before he completely disappeared.
"Let me know if anything happens. Take some rest tonight, don't play any games. Just, take as much as rest as you can, okay? I'm okay here so don't worry about me." She replied.
"Okay Lily, understood. I'm sorry i made you worry." I replied.
"No no, don't be sorry. You have to focus on getting healed, okay? Now sleep. Good night Adrian. I will sleep as well so hopefully we'll meet in our dream." She said and followed by a love emoji.
"Ummm okay Lily. Hopefully we can haha. Good night, I love you, I miss you." I sent my last messages at that night and closed the curtain, put my phone down, turned the light off, and pulled my blanket.
I fell into a dreamless sleep. I woke up every one hour with a massive headache and pain on every inch of my body. As the night grew deeper and darker, i found that it was more difficult to sleep. Fortunately, i fell asleep back just before 3 am. But in the morning, every part of my body seemed to collapse. I lost my apetite completely and it was difficult to get up, even to move my hand seemed to be impossible. The downfall was completely started to take place overnight.
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Like It Never Happened, chapter 2.
Susie found work in the city fairly quickly. It was just as a store clerk, but she said that the first thing she needed was an income, and she could focus on having a real career when that was settled. And anyhow, it seemed like a pretty nice place to work. Her only complaint was the hour-long commute each way.
Sammy found out about this while they were talking during one of their dates. At first he didn’t ask if she was planning on moving into the city, opting instead to ask about her coworkers. He saw the opportunity, but the longer he could keep her only seeing him during dates, the longer they could pretend that nothing had happened. It was Susie who had brought it up, and Sammy couldn't resist the urge to ask.
“It’s awkward. I don’t know that I want to live by myself again. Which I know, I’ll have to, and I am looking for a place-"
“Want to move in with me?”
Susie was a little taken aback. “You sure you're okay with that? We’ve only been seeing each other a couple weeks.”
“Sorry. It’s kind of hard to tell where I’m supposed to treat this like a new relationship, and where I’m supposed to act like we can just pick up where we left off. We were fine living together back then. But I understand.”
“No, let's do it. It sounds great” There was a long pause. “I’m going to try and make this as much like before as possible, alright? You’re going to have to be patient with me.”
“Okay,” Sammy had said. After that, they agreed on the day she would move in, and then changed the subject. Sammy wondered what she’d meant by that, but he supposed he would find out. Any signs of trauma she had, she was hiding well. He almost hoped, sick as it sounded, that she was doing worse than him. He’d hate to be the one testing her patience.
Their first week of living together went by without any serious issues, but there was one thing that Sammy noticed, and that was that Susie seemed to be avoiding music. He started noticing the pattern when he’d tried bringing it up once or twice, and she’d immediately changed the subject. Later in the week, he'd decided to play banjo in the apartment while she was around, and she quickly decided that she had elsewhere to be.
"Where are you going?" Sammy had asked.
"I'm going to get some milk." Her eyes were shifty- clearly she was lying.
"We have milk."
"Well, there are other things we need," she said before leaving. Sammy returned to his banjo. He supposed it was Susie's right to not want to listen to him, but still, he was frustrated. When Sammy heard her unlocking the door some time later, he turned on the radio. He wasn't much for 60s music, but he wanted to give her one last test. As Susie came in, carrying a few non-perishable grocery items they'd use eventually, she turned it off.
"Hey, Susie. Since coming out of ink hell, I found a nice little church. I'm going to a service this Sunday, and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."
Susie looked a little... stunned. Sammy supposed he should have made it less obvious that he was studying her. “I didn’t know you were religious,” Susie said.
Sammy shrugged. “My parents took me to church maybe five times a year. I think I went about ten times in my entire adult life. Believe it or not, it was my experiences with my cult that convinced me that I should go back.”
“Cool, you wanna tell me more about that?”
“Not really.” Sammy could remember years of comforting the barely sane creatures that came to him for guidance. Back then, he’d been the most stable creature around. Now, well, Sammy was glad to have the luxury of being the lost sheep, coming to others for guidance and community. Plus, Susie surely realized that the church would play music, and he still wanted to test her comfort level with it. His little bird being afraid of music seemed just perverse to Sammy, and he wanted to know just how bad the damage was.
"Okay, then. I'll go," Susie said. Good. And hopefully she'd fucking enjoy it.
---
Sunday morning rolled around. Susie had been rather uncomfortable coming to Sammy's church, being that she had strong suspicions about why he wanted to take her there, but once she was there she saw no real reason for it. It was a fairly standard church, full of friendly old people that Sammy introduced her to. Of course, Susie knew there would be music, and she was ready for that. As the service began and the choir began to sing, she focused on the visuals in the room, averting her eyes from anything with an angel on it. It still made her tense, but she was managing. Then, her eyes landed on Sammy's face. He had been staring right her, studying her, just like he had that one night. She realized that she looked rather distressed and spent about a second trying to fix that before she got up and left.
Sammy followed behind her. “Susie, what's wrong?”
"Why don't you guess? You already have your theories, don't you?"
"It's the music, isn't it?"
"No, it's you!" she snapped.
Sammy could tell they were in for a fight. “Maybe we should talk elsewhere.” He’d hate for the other churchgoers to overhear them fighting, especially if Susie had figured it out.
“Fine. We’ll talk at home. Should we go back in there?”
“Are you going to break down because of the music?” Sammy felt like the father of a petulant daughter.
“I'll be fine,” she growled.
And she was. Grumpy, but fine. No worse than uncomfortable when there was music. The church service was fairly average, which for this church meant quite pleasant, though Sammy would have liked to stay at the end to talk to the other churchgoers. Ah, just like old times, Sammy thought, Susie going into theatrics and taking it out on whoever’s closest. Which just so happens to be me.
After they got home, Sammy asked, “Okay, where were we?”
“I was going to tell you that it wasn’t the music. Yes, it does make me uneasy because of ink-related craziness, but what really upset me back there is that you have been... I don’t know... testing me about it. Did you think I couldn’t tell? I’m not stupid, Sammy, and I don’t appreciate you making weird plans like that instead of talking to me, alright? I'm not your daughter. I'm not for you to go planning stuff behind my back like in the you did in the forties. Alright? I need you to respect me.”
“Alright, I hear you.”
Susie sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry for overreacting. Is that everything? I'm sorry I didn't just tell you about this when I first suspected you were testing me.”
“Well, I guess I would like to know if you're planning to get back into music.”
“I don’t know. Probably. I mean, who am I without it? But not right now. Sorry. Voice acting I definitely still wanna do, though." There was a pause, and a heavy sigh. "Sammy, have you ever read 1984?"
“Yes, decades ago."
"I know that music is a lot of what we had in common. I just hope we're not like Julia and Willson after room 101- too damaged to still love each other. And it'll be all my fault since you don't seem to be having hardly any trouble with this at all."
A part of Sammy was honestly just relieved he was apparently hiding it so well. "Actually, Susie, I'm struggling a lot. When I first came out, I was pretty much jumping at shadows. Even now, going anywhere new is pretty hard for me. And there's a reason why I'm just as tired as I was back when Joey was working me to death. I have a lot of trouble getting to sleep, and when I do, I have some pretty ugly nightmares. It is kind of like you said- I don't really know who I am anymore. Am I the person I became in that dimension, or am I the person who helped ink everyone in the first place? Neither of them are very good people, and I know I'm not exactly like either of them. I guess, we just have to be the best version of whoever we are now."
"I guess you're right. I might have a solution to the sleeping thing, though. I know that you aren't normally one for sleeping together, but, well, my sister's dog started crawling in with me when I was having nightmares, and that helped me. We could try it."
"Sure," Sammy said. It was mostly to indulge her. He remembered the nights they'd slept together in the 40s, before Susie was put away. Of course, then it was because she was freezing cold due to being made out of ink. Sammy would have refused her, but he half suspected that that was half the reason they were even still together. The two of us sleeping together because ink-related issues. Nothing ever changes.
---
Alice Angel turned on the record player. "Sing," she ordered, letting Susie into the forefront of her consciousness.
Susie blinkered awake. She wasn't really in the mood to fight. She got up anyhow, intent on finding a knife.
Alice took back control immediately and sat back down. "Don't you even think about it. Do that, and I'm popping the eyeballs of the next ink creature we get in here, and you'll have to watch. Now, sing. I need your voice to hit the high notes." Alice restarted the record and allowed Susie back out. Susie began to sing. It was the Alice Angel theme song- one of her headmate's favourites. After she'd gone through it a couple times, she got up. Alice didn't seem to try to stop her. Susie kept singing, as though doing so would keep her placated. She didn't know what was going on, but she wasn't about to waste the opportunity it presented. Her voice caught on the high notes as her breath grew unstable. She made her way to the tool drawer, retrieved a kinfe, and began cutting through the ropes that were holding a captive Edgar in place. She could barely hear the music of the record player now, and she was more muttering the words under her breath than singing them. Her hands were so tense she could barely handle the knife.
The knife flew into the Edgar's eye socket, and Susie was thrown out of her locus of control. The creautre wailed and writhed in agony. "You were never in control, Susie. Remember that. Even when I let you control certain parts of us, you're never in control."
Of course, that wasn't true. There were times when Susie took control by force. Still, she felt utterly helpless. And without a body to pilot, she couldn't even curl up and cry.
Susie woke up with wet eyes. She touched the gloxinia plant she kept beside their bed. It felt green. Its velvety petals felt purple. She felt her pulse (as useless a feature as that had seemed), and it felt red. Then, she felt Sammy beside her, also struggling with a nightmare. She snuggled into him, calming him down. Everything was fine now. It was all over.
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prorevenge · 5 years
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You don’t want me to sleep for 9 months? Ok, guess you don’t need your degree.
So, I wasn’t sure if this story qualified for pro or petty. Everything I do, over the course of this, is extremely petty, but I think it probably is what I would consider a ‘scale up’ from low tier revenge, mostly on account of the last part.
So some backstory. This was about 6 years ago, during my first year at university. In the UK, you basically have two options for accommodations in your first year. The first option is called Halls, you stay in a huge apartment complex with a bunch of different students, you share a floor with about 10-15 people. Or, you go to a student house, which is basically a normal house, that some greedy landlord converts all the available space into bedrooms for 5-6 people (but, this is not always the case, in my second year I lived in a house with 15 people, many Petty Revenge stories there if I find the time to type them out). Anyway, I chose the latter.
I moved into what would be a 3 bed house, turned into a 5 bed. What would have been a living room, was converted into a bedroom below my room. 3 of my housemates were fine, we were civil to one another, but not really friends, we just lived different lives. We would go out for the occasional bevvy, have dinner together, but mostly just coexist peacefully. Notice how I said it was a 5 bed though?
Enter housemate in question. Let’s call her Cathy. Cathy was of African descent, very rich parents, sent to live in the UK to study Engineering, as the educational system in her native country was very poor. She was short, fat and quite obnoxious. When I moved in, I made a point of introducing myself to everyone. My first impression of Cathy wasn’t great. An issue I noticed immediately (of which persists throughout the entirety of our living together) is that Cathy f***ing stinks. You know when you work out for 4 hours but you crash out and forget the shower before? It was like that x1000. It was extensively unbearable. On top of that, Cathy is really rude. She basically starts out by saying she’s been here for 2 years already, and she wasn’t gonna change again this year. This had me a little concerned, but at the time it wasn’t a huge issue, I told her I kept to myself a lot, so she wouldn’t see any problems from me.
The first week or so I didn’t notice many problems. I was out partying hard during most nights (at English University, the first week is called ‘Freshers’ where everyone goes out and gets wasted for a week the week before studies start) other than some of my food going missing, and dirty plates staying on the side. F**k it, it’s week one, it’s fine.
Then Cathy rears her ugly head. So, I’m going to bed at 9pm the first night before studies (I had an hour commute to my campus and 1st day I wanted to be very awake) and I hear her shouting downstairs, she sounds very excited. I would find out tonight that Cathy is an avid gamer. Now myself I love games, I have late night sessions all the time, but I’m respectful of my housemates. I lie in bed, awake until 2:30am, hearing Cathy scream at her monitor and the sounds of a shooter in the background, very loudly. I didn’t want to be a bad housemate, so I let it happen. I barely slept and I went into my first lecture completely exhausted from sleep deprivation. I figured it was a one off, or it might happen every now and again. I was very wrong.
This carried on for 4 days before I said anything. On the Friday, I approach her in the kitchen and politely say “hey, don’t want to be rude, but can you try and keep it down a little late at night, I can hear you loud and clear through the floor and it’s really messing with my sleep. I don’t wanna be rude but I’ve noticed it’s been happening a lot”. She basically tells me I’m overreacting, she’s doing nothing wrong, nobody else has complained so it’s not a real issue. Cathy shares a wall with another housemate on the ground floor, so when she gets home I ask her about the issue. Turns out Cathy gave her the same spiel as to me. We knock on her door and ask what’s the problem, together. She gives us this whole sob story about how hard it is to make friends, that her online friends are her family, they live all across the world and she doesn’t want to break that relationship. I feel bad (stupidly) and tell her I totally get it, but just try and be a little quieter on weeknights. She says “I’ll try, maybe” and we leave it at that.
That night I slept fine. I thought it was over. The next night she’s screaming again, but it’s the weekend, so I get high as a kite and fall asleep in the bathtub. Sunday night rolls around, she’s screaming again, I can hear the sound of her rifle firing in game and she shouting obscenities with every shot. It gets to 11pm and I go downstairs and knock. Nothing. I wait a little while and try again. No change. I try again, same, so I go into the back garden and knock on her window. I hear her shout F OFF a few times and give up. I go to bed, but not to sleep.
This happens for the next few weeks. She screams, I go to confront, she screams at me through the wall till I leave. I approach her in the day, and she tells me she could hear me, doesn’t know what I’m talking about, I must have been DREAMING, think of a bs excuse and it’s probably on the list of things she would say.
So begins the revenge. I start by just going downstairs, flicking the power off and on for the router, and going back upstairs. The house is kind of old and creaky, so it’s pretty obvious that as the WiFi goes down, it’s me. This happens a few nights until she confronts me as I’m leaving in the morning. I tell her bluntly, yeah, it’s me, stop with the screaming or things are just going to get worse. She threatens to call our landlord on me. Great idea. I leave the house, go to my lectures, and after Uni I visit the landlord. I tell him the entire story about everything that’s happening, and how hard it’s making our lives. He says he’ll look into it, please be patient.
More weeks go by, no more pranks from me but no interference from the landlord. The night I contacted him was silent, but after that everything went back to scream-a-palooza. I contact him again, he says trust him, no changes. I try again, guess what no changes.
So I start getting pettier. So, I failed to mention before (at least in great detail) that Cathy is messy AF. She would eat, then leave all her plates, pots and pans on the side and return to her lair. For the first month, we just washed them up for her, nobody wants a messy kitchen. But, I was pissed off. So I started a new system. If I see a dirty plate of hers, I’d leave it in front her door. This was funny for a few days until I started finding my dirty plates she used at my door. From this point on, all kitchen equipment that was mine would from there on out live in my room until the end of my tenancy. This went on for another sleepless week until I am awoken by my landlord with a police officer. I’m told I’ve been stealing from my housemates and I need to go to the station. I promptly explain the situation, and my other housemates back me up. The officer clearly is annoyed to have his time wasted by us and leaves. Me, the housemates, Cathy and landlord have a group discussion on how to end the hostilities. We demand quiet weeknights and a clean kitchen, in exchange we (though, really it was just me) will not perform passive aggressive petty revenge. Seems like a fair deal right? No. Landlord said he can’t give any ‘preferential treatment’ so we need to stop regardless. I’m glad to say though, even though this guy was an awful landlord, he never interfered again, allowing for further pettiness to ensue.
So, back to revenge. Cathy would run an Ethernet cable from the modem to her computer, along the floor and into her room. I would start by unplugging this cable any time she was screaming. Cathy then started taping the cable so it was harder to pull out the socket. It got to a point were our hallway had a huge mess of tape and wire going across from the router all the way to her room. But f**k Cathy. I bought a roll of the same tape she had used, waited for her to leave the house. I had to wait 3 weeks for this opportunity. When I finally had the chance, I pulled up the tape, took a pair of scissors, cut the cable and taped it all back down. How she got into university was beyond me, as she didn’t figure it out for a few days. I slept wonderfully those nights. She confronted me days later and accused me of my crime. I simply denied it, and slammed the door in her face.
After this it was fairly passive aggressive both sides. Any time I heard noise I’d unplug the cable. She started eating my food (so I ended up buying a mini fridge and storing all my food in my room) and she would regularly throw out my belongings if I left them around the house. It was all getting a bit much. Mid year, I bought a cheap, turtle beach headset. I knocked on her door, and offered it as a peace treaty. I said the noise had to stop, and the revenge was starting to get out of hand. Please, take the headset, continue to enjoy your games, but I desperately need sleep. She took the headset, said thank you and promptly retreated to her room.
(As a side note, I’d never seen her room up until this point. It, was, disgusting. Old food everywhere, wrappers and cans. Her bed was half a space to sleep, half pizza boxes and rubbish. The smell was so bad, that after the conversation I went upstairs and threw up. I would only see the inside of that room once again until I moved)
So, overly generous peace offering? Yes. But I was desperate. The lack of sleep was really starting to affect my work, social life and relationship. I hoped it would turn a new leaf. Well, no. All night that night, screaming. I woke up the next day, and had a smoke in the garden. As I was pacing, I looked over at her window. Hanging out the window, I see a very damaged turtle beach headset. I decided in that moment, to destroy her.
Before I get into the big stuff, here’s a few c***ty things I did on top. I would pour salt into her milk and juice. Any time she left the house, I would cut the Ethernet. I put toothpaste onto her door handle. Any soft drinks she bought? Took them to class and donated them to my friends.
Anyway, so you notice that I said I had to wait 3 weeks for my cable prank? I became very aware that Cathy barely left the house. She was 100% not going to lectures or assignments. I started posting letters to her faculty posing as her parents asking for updates on her studies. After a few weeks she would start to get into shouting arguments with her parents over the phone. I then started ringing the faculty to let them know when she wasn’t in attendance. Our university had a relaxed approach to this, but all courses were expected to have an 85% attendance rating, or you’d face potential problems. After speaking to her staff supervisor, she had a whopping 23% rating. After a few more calls, it was established that she would have a ‘meeting’ as essentially a case for her to plead herself as to why she should stay. I took the time to somewhat befriend her supervisor, and asked if I could be present at the meeting to profess my story to aid in her expulsion. He agreed. As the days to her meeting rolled up, it was clear (due to the arguments with her parents on the phone) that she would not be staying here if she did not keep her position on her course. She began cleaning up after herself, and actually spoke to me semi-civilly begging me not to speak to the university any more. I told her, if she didn’t shout any more all the way to the hearing, then I’d retract all of my previous statements and give my verbal support to her staying. Zero noise. I slept like a baby for 3 days. Thursday night (meeting was the Friday) rolls around.
A final note, whenever Cathy did get up in the mornings, she had an extremely loud and obnoxious alarm clock, which would be on ages.
Thursday night, I give each of my other housemates the run down, and ask them to either skip town for the night and let it run its course. 2 stayed 2 left. Come 9pm, I proceed to invite my entire society around for drinks. 30 people in our tiny house drinking, shouting and playing loud music until 3am. Cathy comes out angry, begging, at one point in tears telling me to stop. But F this B, she had this coming. I go to bed at 4:30am. I wake up at 6am. No noise in the house. Good, she’s asleep. I go downstairs to the switchboard, and cut the power. I go out, eat breakfast, and go to the meeting at 8:30am. Much to my delight, Cathy does not turn up. At 9am I give the committee a full rendition of the past 9 months of hell, and proceed to strongly advise expulsion.
Afterwards, I call my university and fake having the flu, asking for a recovery period of 4-5 days. They accept, and I go back home to see my family for a week.
I return to a house one less occupied, with a few stand out pieces. In front of my room door, the now almost dust turtle beach headset. LOL. But, I ventured to her room. The smell had not left permanently, but it was bearable now. Many of her possessions were gone, but many left behind, most notably her printer and several pieces of balled up paper around it. Firstly, balled up print out copies of flight tickets to her native country, and a flight map. A letter from the university, denoting her immediate expulsion. A letter from our landlord, noting that as per the tenant agreement, if she cannot find study again within 28 days, she will be forced to leave the house. And finally; the creme de la creme. A letter, clearly intended for me and the housemates that she gave up on, telling us how this was all our fault and one day she would come back to haunt us.
(source) story by (/u/Tucker_Design)
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[Good Omens] Winging It - Mark 10:42-45
Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T  
Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.
A/N: Well, this is already longer than it was supposed to get and is nowhere near done. Go me. Next chapter will have a bit of a time skip at the beginning.
*** 
“Did you just… print out everything?”
“Only the important things. The entirety of the file is in the archives for consultation - I don’t think it was fully digitalized - but this should do to help us remember.”
Uriel and Sandalphon exchanged a glance, then they both reached to take the folders Michael was handing to them, both of them full to bursting. And heavy, too. Uriel opened hers, and flipped through a few pages. Michael had written and printed out a short summary. A relatively short summary, considering that Gabriel’s existence spanned eons and plenty of things had happened in that time. Plenty of memories that kept slipping through their fingers. 
“Remembering facts about him is not the same thing as remembering him,” she muttered, and sighed. “How long before we can no longer recall why didn’t want to forget him?”
Michael’s expression hardened. “Do you have a better idea?” she asked, her voice cold, causing Sandalphon to shift away a little. 
Michael and Uriel had… disagreed very few times before, but Sandalphon had learned that, whenever it happened, it might just be safer to chill in an entirely different galaxy until they had worked things out. Last time, a few centuries earlier, he and Gabriel had hung about Orion’s Belt for a while, claiming they had been sent there on a mission while they had actually been sitting down for what would have been the longest game and most savage of Uno on record, had anyone ever recorded it. Sandalphon had won; a nice memory, that. And fading fast. 
Unaware of his thoughts, Uriel shook her head. “No,” she conceded. “No better ideas. Are you still going to get in touch? He… made it plain our presence unsettles him,” she added. A very polite way to put it, considering that seeing them made Gabriel scream and flail.
Michael sighed. “He won’t have to endure our presence,” she said. “Not unless he calls for us.”
***
“Gabriel! You finally answered! I sent you a text, did you see it?”
“Uuugh,” Gabriel muttered, rubbing his eyes. What time was it? How long had he slept? Were Aziraphale and his demon still-- ah, yes, there they were, sitting at the other hand of the room and staring at him, each with a raised eyebrow. Gabriel pulled himself upright, causing the blanket to fall off him on the floor. “A text? No, I didn’t. What-- when-- the interview! Did you get the job?” he asked.
“I did!” Daniel exclaimed, exactly as the demon scoffed. 
“I told him he would, why the surprise...” he muttered, but Gabriel barely heard him: he just smiled, running a hand through his hair to brush it back. 
“That’s amazing news. When do you start--”
“They’re looking for a supervisor.”
“... Oh? I thought you were there for a position as a… spoon… lift?”
“What-- fork, Gabriel, a forklift operator,” Daniel laughed, clearly elated. “Yes, I did. But they also need a supervisor or two and have just started looking. I thought-- you mentioned you were a supervisor once, no? Or a chief of staff, something like that?”
“I… you could say that, yes.”
“Then send them your CV, the link is in the text!”
“My-- oh. Of course. That. Yes. I’ll… do that.”
“Great! Good luck with that - they offer accommodation and all. Not that Southampton is that far, but better than commuting, no?”
“Absolutely,” Gabriel agreed, taking a mental note to look up what ‘commuting’ meant. After the call ended after a few more pleasantries, he looked up to see both the demon and Aziraphale were staring at him. 
“... What, are you seriously going through with it?” Crowley asked. Gabriel frowned.
“Were you eavesdropping everything?”
“You had the speaker on, genius. Don’t dodge the question - am I really hearing the Archangel Fucking Gabriel thinking of getting a human job?”
You are the Archangel Gabriel no longer, Metatron’s voice echoed in the back of his mind. It hurt, it truly did, but he saw the truth of it now. And, at least, he had some hope. 
God forsakes no one, the Voice of God had said. 
He lied, a voice he couldn’t place whispered in the back of his mind. Hypocrisy in every word.
God asks of you what they ask of every mortal. Faith.
God has forsaken you.
Go through your mortal life, have faith, and do your best.
It gets easier once you accept it.
“I…” Gabriel’s voice faltered, and he swallowed before he spoke again. “I have little choice, do I? If I am to go through this life as a mortal, then… then I will do that. Besides, I can’t sit by doing nothing. I’m not wired for inaction,” he added, and turned back to them. Aziraphale was looking at him with calm understanding, and Gabriel smiled weakly.
I think you have figured out more than you think, Aziraphale had said. Gabriel still had no idea what he meant, what was it he had supposedly figured out, but… he could try to believe him. He had been right about the Ineffable Plan, clearly, when everyone else had been wrong.
He wasn’t certain he could have faith in God now, but he could try to have some in an angel who could step into Hellfire, come out unscathed, and somehow find it in himself to offer his help and forgiveness without Gabriel doing anything to earn either.
“Well then,” Aziraphale finally said, “I suppose it is time to work on your CV.”
Oh. That. “... I never wrote a CV in my entire existence. I was created for my role.”
“Ah, it shouldn’t be too hard. You just lie.”
“Embellish, Crowley. You embellish your--”
“You lie a lot. Everyone lies on their CV. And on the cover letter. And in interviews,” the demon replied, and shrugged when Gabriel glanced over. “So if you want to have more than a snowball’s chance in Hell - and trust me, I know what I’m talking about there - you’ve got to do it as well. Aside for the tiny little detail that no one would believe a word of your real references, you really don’t want them to know your previous employment ended with a… well…”
“Forcible termination,” Gabriel finished. Crowley made a face.
“Was that how you were going to put down Aziraphale’s-- ugh. Never mind. Do you even have a national insurance numb--”
“He does now,” Aziraphale said lightly, and turned back to Gabriel. “One more frivolous miracle to add to the list, I suppose. Do you mind?”
Like he had a say on the matter anymore. Gabriel averted his eyes. “... Thank you,” he murmured.
“You’re quite welcome. Do put down my number, in case they want to check your references. Now, I believe I might have a book somewhere explaining how to best write a CV…”
***
“You know this is ridiculously useless, don’t you? You don’t need to actually know that stuff.”
“I do need to know it if I am to do a decent job.”
“What do you care? That angel is such a bleeding heart, you know he’ll miracle you into passing the interview like he did for your human friend.”
“That was the demon, really.”
“... What?”
“The demon did the miracle.”
“What.”
“I thought the same thing,” Gabriel said, and turned a page. There were… a lot of things a warehouse supervisor was supposed to be knowledgeable about, including a lot about health and safety, which made sense given how fail mortal lives were. Luckily, Gabriel had an excellent memory; he was rather certain he could memorize all he needed to know before the interview.
Before him, Beelzebub was frowning. They had invited themselves to the table Gabriel was sitting at in the café, ordering a black coffee they had yet to touch. At the far end of the room, employees were discreetly trying to shoo away an unusual amount of flies that kept trying to land on the food on display. Which they would go on to sell anyway. 
“Demons are not supposed to perform miracles,” Beelzebub muttered, looking rather offended. 
“Demons are not supposed to splash around in holy water while asking for a rubber duck, either,” Gabriel pointed out, turning another page. “And yet.”
“Hmph.” Beelzebub made a face, and glared down at the coffee like it was responsible for the entire mess. “I should have asked for something more complicated to make,” they finally muttered. “To ruin the barista’s day a little.”
“You’re ruining mine, if it helps,” Gabriel said drily.
“It does,” was the reply, startlingly sincere. They leaned back, watching him closely as he tried to focus on the book, then suddenly kicked his shin under the table, causing Gabriel to yelp. 
“Ow! What was that abou--”
“I didn’t tell you you could ignore me.”
“You’re insufferable, and I have no more time for you. I have to learn all that there is to learn from this material obj-- book. From this book.”
Beelzebub rolled their eyes. When they spoke again, they sounded vaguely offended. "I still don't understand. You'd seriously lower yourself to this you consider my more than generous offer to join me in Hell?"
"Absolutely."
"You're an idiot," the Prince of Hell snapped, anger leaking into their voice. "God didn't explain a thing, didn't make any promises. Just demanded faith, as usual. And you're still going to do as they say, after what was done to you!"
"Anything is preferable to Hell."
"You don't know until you try."
Gabriel lifted his eyes from the book. "And if I try and find I hate it, you'll just let me go?"
"Of course not."
Gabriel’s eyes shifted back to the book. "I'll pass."
"And it will be for nothing. God is going to change the rules on you, you'll see. Just so that they can screw you over a bit further."
Gabriel tried to keep his expression neutral, gaze fixed on the book like nothing of what he was hearing got under his skin, but he couldn't quite hide how those words cut. Beelzebub could certainly see it in the thin line of his mouth and the needlessly tight grip on the book, and immediately doubled down. 
"Isn't that what already happened? You did best, and suddenly the rules changed on you."
"I... acted out of arrogance--"
"Oh, please, spare me the self-blame God drilled in your brain. But that’s what you are - once a servant, always a servant. God is prick. That's all that there is to say. A Great Plan to follow, and you did your utmost to see it through - then the one who got in the way has their protection, and you are thrown out for trying to deal with a traitor the way deserve to be dealt with."
“I should have never attempted to destroy Aziraphale. It had nothing to do with the Great Plan. I only acted out of anger.”
“Maybe that was just God’s excuse. Maybe they planned on throwing you out for failing to see the Great Plan through, after all. You were created to serve God, and failed.”
Gabriel finally looked up from the book, glaring. Beelzebub met his gaze, clearly satisfied for succeeding in getting a raise out of him. He forced himself to keep his voice even as he spoke. 
“God needs no excuses to exert their will.”
“So, they need no reason to tear out your wings and cast you out, is what you’re saying.”
“That’s not what I said,” Gabriel protested, desperately trying to shut down that part of his mind whispering that Beelzebub had a point. No, no, no - he couldn’t acknowledge that, couldn’t think like that. He needed to have faith, it was all that was asked of him. “God’s ways are mysterious, and the fact that I can’t understand their reasons doesn’t mean there aren’t--”
“And yet you’re desperate to go back to being a lapdog for a master you won’t tell you what they want of you.”
“Faith, that is what they want--”
“And this is where faith has brought you,” Beelzebub snorted, gesturing around them with a hand. The cafe was mostly empty; a girl at the far end seemed to have fallen asleep over her laptop. “You never doubted God, and here you are. Why remain loyal to a master like that? One who never even speaks to you? If you join me in hell--”
“Am I supposed to believe Satan wouldn’t destroy you in case of failure?” Gabriel snapped. 
Beelzebub looked at him like he was a complete idiot. “Of course he would, but then all you have to do is not to fail. Satan’s orders are always pretty damn clear, and they’re upfront about what happens to you if you disobey. You follow the very clear orders, and you can’t go right.”
“You mean you can’t go wron--”
“No. I know exactly what I meant to mean.” Beelzebub waved a hand dismissively. “I challenged God, and I am the Prince of Hell. You did nothing but obey your entire existence, and you are nothing. Cast out without wings, without powers. I have both.”
The ragged scars over Gabriel’s shoulder blades seemed to burn, and he clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the phantom pain in a part of him that was no more. Good wings, strong wings, white as snow and strong as the tide. And they were gone.
“Maybe you were the one on the wrong side of the battlefield, after all,” Beelzebub mused, leaning forward and causing Gabriel to rear back. Yes, the battlefield. He remembered soaring over it, remembered the fight - the clash of swords and spears, scorching fire and holy water. 
He was never the warrior Michael was, but he could hold his own. He’d brought messages across the battlefield to keep the Heavenly army fighting as one, and he’d struck down several demons, he… he...
“You lost the Battle,” Gabriel snapped. “I struck you down, and--”
Beelzebub scowled. “You did not!” they replied, sounding rather offended. “It was Michael, that wanker, but someday--”
“No, you were…” Gabriel frowned, trying to focus. Something was there, a memory beneath the vague recollection of the Battle; until then it had been impossible for him to remember much, the action too frantic and details slipping away from him the more he focused… but now he found it was easier to remember. And he remembered something, a moment of stillness in the chaos. 
Gabriel, what are you waiting for? Strike them down!
“I had a spear, and your sword was broken…” 
“All you had was that stupid trumpet you always-- agh!”
Ba’al! Strike now!
Under Gabriel’s stunned gaze, Beelzebub let out a groan and grabbed their head with a pained grimace. With the mind’s eye he saw what had been an angel, a long time ago, exhausted and struggling to stand up before him… and then coming to a standstill.
He’d almost struck Beelzebub down, yes. But he did not. He could not.
And Beelzebub hadn’t struck him. They could have. They did not.
“... Ba’al.” The name came to his lips with no thought at all; at first he didn’t even realize it had been him to speak it. It caused Beelzebub to recoil and tear their hands off their head, glaring up at him with savage fury, pain, and something remarkably close to fear.
“Stop,” they buzzed, wide-eyed, teeth bared. “Stop this instant, I command you!”
“I knew you. That was your name, wasn’t it, from before the Fa--”
“We are not meant to remember things from before!” The buzzing grew louder, furious. “I demand you cease it now!”
They seemed to be-- they were in physical pain. The realization made Gabriel’s mind reel; angels could not remember the Fallen either, because God clearly willed as much, but the futile attempts at doing so never caused pain. Clearly, Satan had put a demonic twist to the rule.
But Gabriel was an archangel no longer; he could remember, and he found he couldn’t keep himself from trying to bring up as much as he could. He’d never been curious about what they had forgotten about, but now… now he was. Curiosity was, after all, a human trait. What had got Adam and Eve kicked out of Eden, but at the moment he was too overwhelmed to think of that.
The more he focused, the more he could recall; bits and pieces, far from a complete picture, but it was more than he’d ever managed to put together. And it seemed that he did, after all, have some sort of weapon he could use to chase away the Lord of the Flies.
“... I tried to warn you,” he said slowly, the memory so vague it may as well have been a dream. “You were hanging with the wrong people. Questioning too much. I tried to convince you--”
 A snarl, and Beelzebub’s eyes flashed with flame before turning completely black. Above them, flies buzzed furiously against the ceiling. “You shut that stupid mouth this very instant, or else--!”
“Gabriel!”
As Daniel’s voice rang out, Gabriel went through two very different emotions: relief that the conversation had been interrupted before things got ugly - why did he think it a good idea to anger a being who could smother him with a gesture again? - and sudden terror that Beelzebub might turn their fury on him. And for a moment, their eyes all black, they looked like they might. 
“Please,” Gabriel whispered, his voice barely audible. 
Don’t harm him. I let you Mark me so you wouldn’t harm him.
The change was so quick, Gabriel would have missed if he blinked. The blackness was gone from Beelzebub’s eyes, and they turned to look at Gabriel with a flat, utterly uninterested look. They looked fairly normal, aside for the fact they looked like they had dressed in the dark, but then again most people in London did. Gabriel found they no longer had the style they used to.
Daniel didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss. He just walked up to them, smiled, and patted Gabriel’s shoulder. “You really got the interview, then? Good luck! Hopefully we’re going to be colleagues, huh?” he smiled broadly, and finally glanced at Beelzebub. If he thought anything of their rather bizarre attire, he said nothing of it. But then again he’d lived in London for a long time, watching people show up at Tesco Express in their pajamas. “Friend of Gabriel, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m Daniel,” he said, holding out his hand. 
Beelzebub looked at it like Daniel had just handed them a dead fish; it likely didn’t happen often that a mortal walked up to them and tried to shake their hand. They glanced over at Gabriel, who realized he had about thirty seconds to avert a crisis. 
“Er… yes, this is Beel--” Gabriel began, only to pause when it truly hit him how much of a bad idea saying that aloud would be. From the other side of the table, Beelzebub managed to convey without words that they thought he was an utter idiot, but offered no help.
Ba’al, he thought, but he still remembered so little attached to that name, the memory barely uncovered… and besides it would undoubtedly cause fury he rather wanted to avoid. In the end, Gabriel forced the smile back on. 
“... Bill,” he finished.
Beelzebub’s retaliation came swiftly in the form of a kick on the shin, but they didn’t contradict him, and Gabriel decided he could count himself lucky for that. And the fact he’d gotten away with only a kick in the shin in the first place.
Luckily, Daniel didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. Or maybe there was something there, hesitation as he stared at the Prince of Hell - it would occur to Gabriel only later that he was trying to assign them a gender - but he said nothing of it. “Nice to meet you, Bill,” was all he said. “Do you mind if I join--”
“I have urgent matters to attend,” Beelzebub said, and stood suddenly, nearly knocking back the chair. They turned to glare at Gabriel, eyes icy. “Do think of what I told you,” they muttered, and marched off without a word. The door opened, slammed closed, and they were gone - as were the flies that had been buzzing by the ceiling. Daniel blinked.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“... They had a headache,” Gabriel replied, and forced himself to tear his gaze off the door. The realization was staggering - that they’d known each other before the Fall, that Gabriel had tried to warn them against the wrong sort of companies, that they had stood before one another during the Battle without either being able to lift the weapon on the other - but Beelzebub was gone, and Gabriel chose to chase it all from his mind for the time being.
It no longer mattered whether they had known each other. That part of his existence was over.
He had other matters to attend, too. 
It gets easier once you accept it.
***
“Crowley?”
“Angel.”
“Do you think we knew each other?”
“... Huh?” Crowley blinked, glancing over. Aziraphale was leaning on the bench’s backrest, staring at the waterfowl and uncharacteristically uninterested in the ice cream cone in his hand. “We have known each other for a good while, no?”
“Before the Fall, I mean.”
Ah, now that was… something Crowley had never considered. He never even tried to remember anything from that time, because it hurt like a mallet to the brain and honestly, he could do without it. And it wouldn’t work, anyway. “Guess it’s possible,” he conceded. “But unlikely. There was… what, twenty million between all of us?” he shrugged, leaning back. 
Aziraphale nodded. “Ah, yes. It makes sense,” he said, and glanced down at his cone to notice that an especially brave - and fat - squirrel was now sapling it, standing on his knee. He chuckled, and lowered it a little to make it easier to reach. “Well-- it doesn’t really matter, does it? We know each other well enough now.”
Crowley grinned. “No,” he agreed, and reached into his pocket to pull out something - a pace torn out of an old newspaper. “So, uh, about the idea we had to move to the South Downs…”
Aziraphale glanced over to see a picture of green hills beneath a blue sky. It looked… quite heavenly, really. Then he read the name, and burst out laughing, scaring the squirrel away. 
Devil’s Dyke Walking Trails, the title read. Devil’s Dyke is perfect for a summer walk.
“Oh!” Aziraphale snickered, reaching up to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes. “Oh, dear. Summer is nearing its end though, isn’t it?”
“Is that a no?” Crowley asked, trying to sound like he wouldn’t especially care either way and failing rather spectacularly.
Aziraphale smiled. “Why, not at all. But perhaps we should see how it is in summer, before we decide. A brief visit to get the feel of it before autumn entirely settles in.”
Crowley’s attempt at a neutral expression turned into a smirk. “Tomorrow?” he asked, hopeful.
Ah, he was supposed to open the store the next day, maybe for a couple of hours in the afternoon, but as Gabriel was already headed to Southampton for the interview he was sure to pass, there was no real reason to do so. His smile widened.
"Tomorrow sounds lovely.”
***
The letter was on the desk of Gabriel’s hotel room before he even walked in. A simple sheet of paper, no envelope, and the handwriting - ah, he knew it well. How many times had he gone over paperwork Michael filled up? 
The notion that Michael knew where he was filled him with dread, but he didn’t turn and run. He looked around, yes, but found that the room was empty, and he relaxed a little, the hammering of his heart slowing down. He stepped forward and stared at the piece of paper for a long time, Crowley’s words eching in his mind. 
Had it been you receiving the order and Michael the one on the ground, would you have refused to do what God asked of you?
No. No, he wouldn’t have. He would have done precisely the same, while hating every moment of it. Anyone can be loyal and obedient when the orders are easy to follow; the real test comes when they are… not. And he’d have been just as loyal to God as they were.
Once a servant, always a servant.
With a sense of shame heavy in his chest - how wrong it seemed, feeling shame for his utter devotion to the Almighty - Gabriel finally stepped forward, picked up the letter, and began to read.
***
Gabriel, I do hope you are as well as you can be, given the circumstances. I understand you have no wish to see us, and we will not impose.  We cannot begin to understand God’s reasons to order such a thing of us, and to punish you alone. All we knew was that we owed obedience. We never wished for any harm to come to you. I hope you know that. Should you ever need us, all you need to do is call out our names, and we’ll be there. Always. Michael.
***
For a very long time, Gabriel - once the Archangel Gabriel, now a human to be known as Gabriel F. Archer - kept reading those words over and over, a knot in his throat and a weight on his chest, the phantom wings on his back aching at the memory of what had been done to him. A couple of times, he was very, very close to crumpling the letter… but he did not. 
With a long sigh, Gabriel put the letter in a drawer, shut it, and tried to forget all about it. 
He tried to forget about a lot of things.
***
"And Jesus called them to him and said to them, ‘You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many’.” -- Mark 10:42-45
***
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When Love Walks In - Chpt 6
Chapter Six - Dr Quinn Visits to Prep Auston For Breathing Therapy
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The following morning, Dr Quinn shows up at the Nurse’s Station in the Intensive Care Unit to check on Auston. She learns from Nurse Kelly that his night was uneventful, having slept well with the help of a sleeping aid, administered intravenously.
Dr Quinn coordinates a visit with the head-injury specialist, to determine if Auston has endured any head trauma.  The testing will be done later in the week.  
When Dr Quinn enters Auston’s room, she is pleased to see that he’s awake and appears to have more colour and life in him than the previous day.  His mother and father were helping Auston get washed up, changed into comfortable ‘real clothes’ and caught up on things they wanted him to know.
“Good Morning, Auston, Ema and Brian”, Dr Quinn greets everyone with a smile.
Auston, lays in his bed, watching his doctor intently as she approaches him.  He notices that, when she enters the room, the energy changes. He can’t help but liken it to what it feels like for him when he goes on early morning runs back in Arizona; the sun rising from behind the mountains and fever climbing on his cheeks.  He can’t put his finger on it, but there is something about Dr Quinn’s presence that captivates him in a way that he has never experienced before.  
Ema and Brian greet Dr Quinn enthusiastically, while Auston, too distracted by his thoughts, only manages a small awkward smile.  
Shit!  Now she’s gonna think I’m an ungrateful ass!  She saved my life for god’s sake!  He berates himself.
Dr Quinn doesn’t think anything of Auston’s feeble greeting.  In her mind, he is a weak, recovering patient who's summoning every bit of bravery and energy to climb out of a version of hell that he has awoken to have found himself.
Dr Quinn smiles and addresses Auston directly, “Good Morning Auston! I understand from Kelly, that you had a good sleep last night and that all things considered, you are doing quite well.  I can see some colour in your cheeks and notice that your vitals are good.  Just a reminder though, Auston, please do not attempt to use your voice until I instruct you to do so.  Your vocal cords still need time to heal, and by that, I mean re-join, which will allow you to be able to speak again.  I’m happy to hear that you slept well because today, you will be exercising your lungs and that will require a good deal of energy.   Specifically, today, we will be doing some breathing therapy to wean you off the ventilator.  It will likely take about three days of therapy before you will be able to rely solely on the oxygen mask.  How do you feel about that Auston?”
Unrecognisable thoughts and emotions unexpectedly begin surging through Auston’s head, and none of them have anything to do with what she is telling him. In fact, he can barely focus on what Dr Quinn is saying.  His eyes and brain automatically try desperately to figure out what is so mesmerising about this woman.  
What Auston is trying to put his finger on, is something that captivates and dumbfounds most people who meet Dr Quinn.   It is something that flows organically from her and becomes impossible to distinguish from who she is as a person. But if you could look inside Dr Quinn’s mind, you’d see that her secret is gratitude.
When Dr Quinn was a teen, and her boyfriend Josh died in that freak cemetery fence climbing accident, she fell into a deep depression from an assortment of feelings; powerlessness, anger, guilt and grief.  Her psychologist suggested at the time, among many things, that she adopt what he called ‘The Feel Good Formula.’  Specifically, he told her to find something healthy that she could feel passionate about and find a way to do it every day.  Then every morning she was to remind herself how lucky she was to be able to do that thing. Back then, she needed only to look to the tragic loss of Josh to find her passion.  She wanted to find a way to save others the same tragic outcome that Josh had when his neck and throat were torn apart.  Since finding her passion, she has always made it her practice to remind herself, on her commute to classes or work, how fortunate she is to be able to do what she does; have some control in her life by impacting people who suffer like Josh did; by taking steps to save and better their quality of life.  
Still awaiting Auston’s response, Dr Quinn looks down at her clipboard to check on something.  
Instinctively, Auston takes the opportunity to scan Dr Quinn’s body, from head to toe; as if the answer might lay there.
What are you doing, Man?!  That’s dangerous!  Don’t do that!  He scolds himself.  But it is too late, and his heart rate monitor begins beeping. 
Oh, Holy Hell!  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!  Auston screams inside his head as he watches in horror as a surprised and confused Dr Quinn surveys his face and walks over to the loud machine to check it and turn it off.
After turning the alarm off, everyone looks to Dr Quinn for an answer as to why that happened.  His parents are very confused and concerned since they have never heard that thing go off before.  
Auston is pissed at himself and fears she’s found him out.  In his mind, he warns Dr Quinn; I will die right here and now if you guess that thing went off because of you!
Dr Quinn looks at Auston with concern and says with compassion and an apologetic tone, “It appears that what I said upset you Auston and for that, I’m very sorry.  Please, let me know what your fears are about being weaned off the ventilator.  I will do whatever I can to alleviate them.”
Oh, thank the Lord!  He cheers internally, relieved that her guess is wrong.   But, at the same time, he feels bad that she thinks that she caused him distress when the exact opposite is true.
Auston finds Dr Quinn’s compassion comforting.   Whenever she talks to him, she speaks as if she truly cares about his wellbeing; like a family member.  And, from what his parents have told him, Dr Quinn has been looking out for his whole family, from the minute she met them.
Maybe I’m her only patient?  He wonders to himself.  But at the same time, he dismisses the thought because that’s just stupid.   
Is she like this with everyone or just me? He asks himself but then figures, of course, she is like that with everyone, she’s in the health profession, you idiot!
Auston considers that maybe she is somehow affected by him being a wealthy and famous athlete.   But his gut check makes that idea slide.  In the nine years that he has been playing in the National Hockey League, he has met loads of ‘influenced’ people and gained a sixth sense in detecting them.  Dr Quinn is definitely not one of them; he is sure of it.  
She appears above all that superficial crap, he thinks.  Besides, he’s sure there’s no way she wants for notoriety or money given that she has an elite career in medicine.  His parents filled him in on Dr Quinn’s background earlier that morning.  She is beyond impressive.  So, in the end, Auston concludes that she is probably just really sweet and caring to everyone.  He is surprised to find that realisation makes him somewhat jealous.
Dr Quinn is still waiting for Auston to tell her what he is upset about, so she re-focuses his attention to the communication board by asking Brian if he can hand it to him.  She waits for Auston to write his answer.
Oh God, what should I tell her caused me to be upset? Quick!  I need to think of something quick!  Auston’s mind races, and then it comes to him, and he writes, “Nervous.”  
Dr Quinn looks at him with empathy in her eyes and says, “Oh, I see Auston. Yes, that’s entirely understandable, but rest assured you will be in very expert hands with the Respirologist, Dr Ellen Wright.”  
Dr Wright?!  Auston’s voice in his head yells.  No!  I thought you would be doing it!  He thinks.
For some strange reason, he feels like someone just kicked him in the stomach. 
Desperate, he points over and over to the word “Nervous” on his whiteboard, in emphasis.
Ema speaks up, “Dr Quinn, I think Auston would feel more comfortable, for the first while anyway, if you could stay in the room while the Respirologist does her thing.”
Mom saves the day!  I love you, Mom!  He thinks to himself.
“If that is what you would like Auston, I can arrange to do that?”  Dr Quinn says as she looks to Auston for his response.
Auston gives a slight nod of his head, trying to appear nonchalant.
Smiling at Auston, Dr Quinn assures him, "Well, it's a plan then.  I’ll be here."
Yes!  Auston cheers to himself, careful not to get too excited and make the machine go off again.
Dr Quinn checks with Ema and Brian to make sure they got some sleep last night, and it turns out they had, which she is happy to hear.  She reminds them how important it is that they take some time for themselves away from the hospital now that Auston is stable.  She also asks where the girls are.  Ema informs her that Alex and Bre are at Auston's Condo getting some rest.  Dr Quinn tells them she is very happy to hear that.
She’s so kind to my parents and sisters.  It’s no wonder they seem to adore her, Auston thinks as his mind winds down.
"I understand that Dr Wright will be coming to see Auston around 10 am so I will be back for that time. Do you have any questions or concerns before I continue my rounds?"  Dr Quinn asks, looking from person to person.
While Auston wishes he could ask her questions to keep her in the room longer, he can’t think of anything quick enough.  Plus he isn’t going to be selfish and keep her from her work.
There are no questions, so Dr Quinn leaves to finish her morning rounds.  For Auston, it’s like she takes the sun with her when she leaves.  
Auston is exhausted.  He closes his eyes for a moment and ends up falling asleep.  His parents take the opportunity to leave the room, get some fresh air, grab a coffee and a bite to eat before they will return for Auston’s breathing therapy session.
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