#*2 seconds after scaring charity away* why do i have to do everything myself.'

[jrueships]

Admin: which teammate do you pick to cook your Thanksgiving dinner?

Alpey, who has brought his own baked goods for the team before; therefore, should have the most credibility and trust to be skilled in the kitchen: *happily suggests himself as the best option for jabari*

Jabari:

[strawberrywritings]

A/N: Here is part 3 of what I decided to call “Partners in benefits” (no imagination, my titles just state the obvious lmao). This pieces were so much fun to write and I hope you enojyed them, too! Thank you for the support, I love you all x

Part 1 / Part 2 / Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death and sexual intercourse, angst

If there was something Rio took pride in, it was his ability in staying calm in difficult situations. Calm, collected, and cold, because that was what his job required. He had lost count of how many times he’d had a gun pointed at him, yet he always felt the same adrenaline rush; now, it was adrenaline rush mixed with something else: feelings. He didn’t know which ones, he’d think about that later, now his focus was on you, on the gun your hand, and the determination in your eyes. None of you dared to speak for a while.

“What are you doing?”, his tone of voice never changed, his mind switched to business-mode. “If you take your gun out, we can have a Mexican standoff. Otherwise, sit down”, your words were clear, desperately trying not to show all the emotions bubbling up inside. Your head tilted to the side, towards your table, and Rio sat down in one of the chairs, reaching for his gun and putting it on the table. “What are you doing, mama?”, his eyes were soft on yours, trying to understand what was going on in your head. Usually, he could scare everyone with a look, make them backtrack everything they had said, win the fight easily… but he had a feeling, this time, that was not going to work: he would not be able to win easily, he had no idea if he would win at all. “Why don’t you put that gun down and we talk?”, he put his elbows on the table and you laughed. “Talk? Is that how you call ‘murder’, now? I’m not stupid, Rio, I know where this is going.” “And where is this going?”. “One of us is dying tonight, and I’m not giving up without a fight”.

There was something in your eyes, something he couldn’t put his finger on: anger? Fear? Survival instinct? He licked his lips before speaking and he tried to keep his composure because he was torn between shooting you and not having to worry about what you might do or taking the gun and talk it out. “Killing me is not going to make your problems disappear. Killing me is going to double them. You kill me, you’ll have people coming for you”. “You are where my problems started. You fucking Beth was the first problem, you not cutting your shit with her was the second problem, and you fucking me was the end of it all. Do you see where I am?”, his eyes were trained on your eyes and then looked at the gun in your hands, “I see it”, he nodded and he looked into your eyes again. “You and your big ass ego are what got me in this situation. You think you can go around and fuck everyone you want and get away with it because you have all this money and power. You don’t care about what can happen to the people you fuck around with. Well, now you can’t run away from the consequences anymore. Your business with the girls is ruined, just like my life, and whether I die or not, tonight you lose something”.

Rio was speechless, he had no idea you could be this hurt from his actions and everything they caused. He knew you were probably pissed, but this? He was in deep shit. He was 90% sure he wouldn’t die, but you were right, his business was damaged and that was a problem, but he had to get that gun out of your hands. “Great speech – he started – but nobody’s gonna die”. You looked at him in disbelief, giving a humorless laugh. “I’m not fucking playing. Do you think I don’t know what happens when someone decides they want out? They don’t get to simply walk away. And you know what’s worse for me? I let myself be fooled by you, I let you play me, I trusted you. Fuck, I may even have feelings for you, at this point”. Rio noticed how your voice was starting to break, how your eyes were getting teary, even if you were trying to keep your feelings in check not to look, or sound, weak. You wanted to at least get the upper hand for a bit, buy yourself some time and figure something out, but your mind was full of Rio, Rio, Rio and your time was running out.

Rio got up, your hand instinctively gripped the gun tighter, as he walked slowly towards you with that damn smirk on his face. “You got feelings for me, huh?”, he stood right in front of the gun, his smile only getting bigger once your eyes met again. “This is not the point, don’t try to change the subject”, your stare was hard, your hand firm. “Do you remember when we watched ‘The Departed’? You had all your theories, things you thought were gonna happen. You’re good at seeing what could go wrong, and this is why you’re good at what you do”, he was still smiling. “I’m not part of that anymore, in case you’ve forgotten”. “Let me finish. As I was saying… when you were there, I was so annoyed that you wouldn’t stop talking, but when you left that night… I didn’t want you to leave. And I thought that it was just business for you, so I kept shit to myself. I tried not to think about you, but you don’t leave my fucking mind. When I went to the girls tonight it was to see you, I haven’t called you in two weeks because I don’t want you to think I’m just using you for sex, and going there was the only way I could see you. They told me what they did to you”. There was a pause and now you couldn’t help but cry, the gun wavering slightly in your hand. Rio looked sorry, he was beating himself up mentally for letting all of this happen, for even letting it get this far. “I never meant to hurt you, mama. I’m not good at expressing emotions, but… I care about you, not just as a business partner. That’s why I’m telling you to lower this this thing here – his hand reached out and touched the gun – and talk shit out with me. ‘Cause I can’t live with knowing you got hurt because of me”. His hand was careful, gripping the base of the gun, and when he was sure you wouldn’t press the trigger, he made quick work of taking the firearm out of your hand and putting it on the table. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to him, rubbing your back soothingly while you sobbed against him. He held you for what felt like hours and he didn’t let go when your crying stopped, “So you’re not gonna kill me?”, you asked, sniffling. He laughed softly and shook his head, “Nah” you nodded and he kissed your head, rocking you from side to side.

“What happens now?”, you asked, looking up at him. He smiled and put both his hands on your hips. “Whatever you want, we can think about the rest tomorrow. What do you say?”, one of his hands was on your cheek, stroking your skin. “I’d like that”, you muttered and looked at his lips for a second, then back in his eyes. He started to lean towards you, pulling your face closer to his while giving you time to back away if you didn’t want to kiss him. You didn’t think twice about it and closed the distance between your lips. The kiss started soft, your body feeling warm and melting into his, after a few moments, he deepened the kiss and pressed you against the wall, hiking one of your legs around his waist. “Take me home, Rio”, your voice was breathless, your mouth moving to his neck and giving a few kisses there. He groaned and gripped the flesh of your thigh with his hand, so hard he’d probably leave a bruise. “Not sure I can wait till we get home”, he ground his hips into yours, making you gasp in surprise at the friction. There was a newfound hunger for each other; after calling Mick and telling him he could go home and after having sex in the backseat of his car, you made it home and you didn’t leave the bed till the early hours of the morning, only getting back to the bed to sleep after taking a hot shower.

Rio only slept for a few hours; first, he had to make sure you wouldn’t try anything on him, so he stayed up when you fell asleep against him, then, he had to fix Beth, and the girls. He woke up with your body next to his, he looked at you for a moment, before he made his way to the bathroom, to get ready for the day. He left you a note in the kitchen, saying he would be out all day, but you could make yourself at home and wait for him to talk things out in evening. You were still a bit scared about everything that happened the night before, you weren’t a hundred percent sure Rio had forgiven you for pulling a gun on him, seeing how he still hadn’t forgiven Beth for doing the same. He called you a couple times to check up on you, sending some guys to the house to keep you company. Before coming home that evening, he made a detour to Beth’s house, knowing everyone was out and she was about to come home. Him and Mick waited for her in the house, and he smiled once they scared her, she wasn’t expecting them, especially not in her own house. “What do you want?”, she was slowly making her way to the counter, to take out the groceries. “Just paying a visit”, he shrugged. “Busy day?”, she asked, hoping her small talk could make him stay a bit longer. “Not as busy as your days from now on, cause you’re gonna double the work”, she looked at him, confused. “What does that mean? I am not the one you should be angry with! She is!”, Beth was fuming, not even wanting to say your name. “You wanna have someone else pay for the problems you caused, and I ain’t good with that. She told me what happened, and yes, I was the one asking her to change the deal, ‘cause I didn’t wanna be around you. You thought that us having sex meant something to me? You think I need you? Ain’t nothing but a damn charity case to me”, Beth stood frozen, looking like she was about to cry. “Gotta get back to my girlfriend, now”, Rio lifted himself off the wall he was leaning on and made his way to the door. “Wait- girlfriend!?”. Rio didn’t answer and got out of the house with Mick, leaving her standing there, alone.

He told Mick he could go home and he drove straight to his house, finding you in the kitchen, preparing dinner and, honestly, he didn’t think you’d still be here. “Hey, mama”, he came up behind you, putting his hands beside you on the counter, successfully trapping you. “Hi”, you were still making dinner, you were not facing him yet, so he dropped his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck. Once dinner was finished and the dished were done, he sat down with you on the sofa. You beat him and talked first, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was upset and scared and I… I would never hurt you”, you were out of breath because you said everything fast, afraid of missing you chance to speak. “That wasn’t very nice, yeah. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?”. You recounted how you felt alone after being excluded from the girls’ group, how you feared for your life and, therefore, how you were afraid of him. He let you explain yourself and his guilt came back up for a second.

“I didn’t know ‘bout it, but I fixed it”, he said, “You don’t have to worry about them anymore”. “what did you do to them?”, your voice sounded alarmed and worried. He shook his head with a smile. “Nothing, just doubled their work”, he shrugged. You were silent for a minute. “What happens to me, now? I’m out of the business…”, you trailed off, not knowing what he was going to say. “You might not be in their business, but I still want you in mine. You could help me keep track of the warehouses, for now”, he watched you closely, wanting to see how you’d react to that, then, he spoke again. “But first, I want to take you out. A proper date”, your eyes went wide at his words, not expecting this proposal at all. “I know thigs are not done usually in this order, the date should come first”, he smiled when you giggled and nodded. “It should, but I’d love to go out with you”, you smiled brightly at him and he swore he’d do everything to always have you smile like that.

Later that night, after he convinced you to spend the night with him (it really didn’t take much for you to give in), you were cuddled up in his bed, Rio being the big spoon and pulling you to his chest with his arm. “Be my girl?”, he whispered as he brought his hand to your face to make you look at him. You simply nodded and turned your head to kiss the palm of his hand, turning again to press a soft kiss to his lips. You fell asleep curled up against him, one of his arms stretched over you as he looked at you, a soft smile on his face as he kissed your forehead, shutting his eyes, too, and falling asleep.

[nachohypno]

Pine’s College Jocks 2 Ch. 6 - (Re)Building time!

Leo’s POV

I do believe in destiny.

Or I have to, otherwise this would be a very specific chain of coincidences that would have made me very mad, but it didn’t seem to be the case.

Barrinfield city wasn’t exactly where I was headed, but business is business. I was looking forward for a meeting to further expand the company I own, since these things are usually pretty simple. But, the wealthy guys decided to change the place of the meeting to near

A few words, breaking the wills of my comrades and enforcing mine over theirs. As soon as that’s done, I can start counting a couple more numbers in the company’s records.

I walked in the building I was staying in, a hotel with great ratings. Some would call me selfish, because I use my mind control powers to get what I want, but I really don’t care. I AM the one with mind control powers, there must be a reason why I’ve got them.

But I’m bloody sure it doesn’t involve helping some weirdos become professional football players, that’s some… weird fantasy fetish world Piney lives in. (Besides, everyone knows that rugby is waaaay better than football).

Don’t get me wrong, I love that guy. Seeing someone so… ‘pure’ to call it some way, not being corrupted by the powers and trying to do good with them. He’s nice to be around but he also seems kinda… I dunno, but not like dumb because he’s probably way smarter than me.

I got in the elevator and pressed the second-to-last button.

And now, we got ourselves in a bit of a situation. Changing my ways? Not something I thought I would be doing in my Saturdays but alright, I’m amazing so I’ll handle this like a pro.

Besides, he’ll be changing his ways too. Maybe he would learn how things work when you are an all-powerful mind controller.

I mean, I see it like this: There are two kinds of people. Normal people, who live their lives thinking they are free, and want mundane things like the new Xbox, a good job, etc.

Then, us mind controllers. Pine and I are the only ones I’m aware of, but that’s still enough. We have the power to change someone’s personality, routine, likes and dislikes. Their way of thinking, or how they see the world, too!

He wants to do good with his powers? That’s great, and I’m really proud of him for that. But I honestly prefer what I do. Living my life to the fullest and just… taking what I want, because who would stop to think about it when you are basically a god?

Okay, I’m going way over the top here. But, my point is, we’ve both been blessed with this gift, and I’d like him to try out new things before settling down and doing charity for the rest of his life.

He does seem to have a pretty thought of system by the way he handles off things in his campus. Enjoying his good college years while also playing fair. I didn’t do that, nah. I preferred just telling my professors to give me a good grade, since I couldn’t see myself in the future using boring stuff in my work.

The elevator’s doors opened and I was greeted by a corridor. I walked up to my door and entered the apartment I was staying in during my staying in Pine’s city.

I was greeted by a pretty good view, as Alan was still working out in the middle of the room. He was the previous owner of LeoCorp, my old classmate didn’t hesitate to pass the ownership to me after I was done with him.

Now, he was my mindless bro, wanting to keep himself big and strong to serve his master. Hey, I love pretty buffed guys and good looking girls. But I shoot more for the gay side of my bisexuality, I feel a deeper connection with my bros. (“Deeper”, get that?)

I moved towards my friend. He was mumbling numbers as he did some pushups. “59… 60… 61…”

Alan was just a few months younger than me, with blond hair, perfectly smooth body, and a body similar to mine. Wide shoulders, lean torso with nice abs and pecs. When I wasn’t around, he worked out or resumed his assistant’s duties, doing most of my job for me.

After he unwillingly gave me his company, I decided to repay him by making him a permanent slave of mine. He had a good salary, but he didn’t care those lil’ details as long as he was able to serve me.

But, I’ve made a deal. Being more… “nice” with my powers. I’ve got in front of Alan as he did his pushups and stared at him.

He stopped as soon as he noticed me, and looked at me with a big grin “Master! How long have you been there? I’m sorry I haven’t-”

“Quiet, I’m trying to work here” I said, trying to concentrate. I stared at his eyes, trying to reestablish our little mind link. I hoped Pine could someday teach me how he manages to make his mind links permanent, because having them for a few hours was a pain in the ass, honestly.

There, I created the bond. Alan’s eyes became glassy as I toyed with his mind. He was a puppet, a mere pet looking forward to pleasure and obey his master… Well, not anymore.

I tried my best to repair him, just like I remembered him, at least. A friendly and funny guy at my university, with a lot of energy and ideas to take his family business to the sky. Ultimately, he managed to achieve that, just not as the president of it.

I cared for my friend, and I would never destroy his life. But a naïve mistake (Uh… my fault, sorry) left him without his mind, and that’s… that’s something I didn’t know how to fix. I’ve never really looked deeply into it, either. I’ve got into that college because of a rugby scholarship, but my mind control powers also helped a lot with the recruiters.

After learning Pine was a psychology major, I assumed he did the same thing as I did. Mind control your way into being the best of the class, but that didn’t seem to be the case. The guy actually paid attention and tried to study hard enough to be the best, while also using his powers to help others achieve the same result.

Having confirmed that he had the brains and was smarter than me, I wanted to ask him for help with this issue but… I have to give the example. I’m supposed to be older, better, stronger, I’m running out of adjectives to describe how I’m supposed to be superior, and I wanted to think that he looked up to me the day we’ve met.

Besides, he did it already, with the swimming coach. Another accident on my behalf, but he managed to fix it quite easily. Something I haven’t achieved before, but he was angry with me after that, so I didn’t dare to ask him if he could repeat it with someone he never met before.

I could see why, I had to send him my memories of our time together at college, and recreate his personality from there. A big fan of football and baseball, but not that athletic himself. I fixed that when I made him mine, too.

But now… humanity returned to him, as his expression faded and was quickly replaced by confusion.

He still was enthralled, since I didn’t finish with the last details. He still knew who his family was, he regained his knowledge from college, and everything that he became oblivious to returned to his mind.

I snapped my fingers in front of him. The new Alan blinked a few times, before crawling a few meters away from me. “What… Where…? …Leo?”

“Hey…” I offered my hand to him “It’s okay, let me explain everything”

But he didn’t seem to want any explanation. He looked angry, but scared at the same tme“What are you going to explain?” He mumbled. “H-How you ruined my life? How you took over my family company and made it yours?” Alan’s eyes teared up as he looked around. This is… weird, Alan would never act like this. “And what the bloody fuck is this place, Leo?”

Seems like he could remember everything that happened while under my control. That was unexpected. Still, something wasn’t right about him.

“This is… this is our place, man” I said, with a reassuring smile “Barrinfield city, in the US. Isn’t that awesome?”

“Why, Leo?” He looked up at me, without moving his body, only his head as he now noticed his very muscled body and checked himself out while remaining wary of me. “Why did you do this to me? I was your friend!”

“It wasn’t… It was not something personal, I do it with everyone!” I tried to excuse myself, but he tried to get up. He almost fell, it was like he was (or felt) weak.

“B-But that doesn’t mean you should do it! I had a business to lead! And… the first thing I remember is…” He scratched his head “It’s sorta foggy, but I remember being in our college dorm, and you seemed pissed for some reason. Twenty minutes later, I was on my knees and… I couldn’t think anymore, because of you”

I should have felt guilty, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I didn’t feel bad for my actions, because I made him happy. He couldn’t forget about how blissful and happy he felt while under my control, and that’s probably what bothered him. The asshole should be thanking me!

“It was not intentional; and by the time, I didn’t know I could bring you back!”

“That’s a good reason to take over MY company, right?” Alan lumped over on the couch and just laid there, looking at me with sadness in his eyes. He wasn’t mad, he seemed more… disappointed, and scarred about these last few years.

I wasn’t lying, I didn’t know I could rebuild someone’s personality based on his information and memories. Pine did it like a natural, with coach Chris. That means I’m a horrible mind controller? Probably, but in my defense, I barely cared to search for an answer, either.

“You had no mind” I explained. “You weren’t in condition to run such an important business! I tried to make it work and fix you but… you know how that went, I could only do so much and luckily you got back to working in no time!”

“Yeah. As your assistant. So much bloody bullshit, man. You know what’s the worst part?” I raised an eyebrow. Something worse? “I still feel you inside my head, like some kind of parasite waiting for you to say something so I can jump out of this sofa and obey. And I hate it. This is not life, Leo. And… I rather not live like this.”

I moved over to his side “What are you talking about? This can totally work out! You’re back now, Al!”

But he shook his head “Bring me back under. At least, I was happy like that, and I seemed to work out a lot during these few years. C’mon, unless you want me to do something we’ll both regret” He sounded in pain, like he really didn’t want to be here right now.

‘Fuck,’ I thought ‘I fucked up again’

But I knew that this wasn’t Alan, not really. The real Alan wasn’t like this, and he knew it. If it wasn’t his normal personality who was in control of his body, he wouldn’t want to be back at all.

This was probably my fault, too. I made this Alan with my memories, but… maybe it got also mixed with my own thoughts?

I do think it was a bit of an asshole move, taking over his company instead of passing it on to another member of his family. He does have a sister, after all. It just didn’t feel right at the moment, and I had to think fast!

Maybe my insecurities went into his new personality too, and he started acting like I imagined he would? I couldn’t know for certain, being a mind controller was both a pain in the ass, and a gift from heaven.

He was too prideful to let me toy with his mind before, and he was still that prideful when he knew that he wasn’t really in control of his body. Not with me around, at least. And he was right, I could feel in our fainting mind link that he was dying for crawling towards me and pleasuring his master.

“Very well” I mumbled, looking back into his eyes, trying to strengthen our mind link “Just look into my eyes, and relax. Feel everything around you vanish, as you let my voice lead you… deeper and deeper”

His expression gave a 180°, a nice smile replacing the previous anger/sadness. His eyes glazed as the mind link reappeared, and I pushed his barely functional new personality to the back of his mind. Pine was right, this was easy.

Would have been cool to find it out in a less painful way.

“How do you feel, Al?” I asked him, caressing his face.

“Good, master… But that doesn’t matter, how may I serve you today?” And now, he was the mindless Alan he was a few hours ago. I felt like shit now, I never wanted this. And as much as I hated to say this… I needed to learn how to control my powers to avoid doing this ever again.

Better late than never, huh?

I sat beside him on the sofa. “Just… hug me, a’ight?”

“Yes, master!” He said, before hugging me with a blissful expression in his face.

“I’m so sorry, man. I really am” But it was kinda pointless. Apologizing to someone who doesn’t have awareness nor personality.

I fucked up big time when I enslaved him, and I fucked up big time again.

I needed more help from Pine than I thought I would need. Fuck my life, but that’s not a bad thing, right?

My mind controller friend will probably help me become a better and nicer mind controller, without a doubt!

----

Pine’s POV

I honestly didn’t know what to do.

I mean, having Mike become a mindless slave was fun for a while, but it’s not like now I’m going to leave my place and starting yelling at strangers “Hey YOU! You will obey me!” Then point at another guy and yell “You will also obey me! EVERYONE WILL OBEY MEEEE!!”

No, that thought made me shiver. It could work, because of the verbal mind control, but it would be really, really weird (and wrong) to do.

I preferred just chilling for now, and tomorrow I’ll get back to my normal routine. Leo didn’t give me exact instructions, he just told me to “have more fun and be less moral about it”, so I’m pretty free. I think he would have a harder time with his part of the deal.

Although… I don’t really think it counts as a deal? Seemed more like we were making a bet, or daring each other like little kids.

I imagined a little Leo next to a little me, as the two little mind controllers got into a heated argument. “I bet you can’t have fun with your powers!” Little Leo said, before Little me answered a “Yuh-uh!”

“Nuh-uh!” Little Leo answered, trying to mock my little self.

“Yuh-uh!” Lil’ Pine said again, and they just continued like that. I chuckled at the imaginary scenario playing in my head.

I could easily have more fun if I wanted, and then wipe off any change I made after I’m done with it. It’s a nice thing, knowing that I can back up their personalities before actually messing with them.

I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Thinking about what to do, and Mike wasn’t around to have fun with him. He went to the university’s gym, before his first class.

It’s been a few days since I’ve made that “deal” with Leo, and I barely did anything with my powers (except for the usual stuff, like helping the football team and etc). It’s not that I’m lazy, if anything I’d like to be over with this as soon as possible, forget about it and go back to my average college student/jock master life.

I sighed. “Better get to work” I told myself, as I got up from my bed. But… what could I do?

I contemplated my phone in my hand as I thought about it. Finishing with my plan would be nice, I’ve had coach Peter/Brody, Mark, Chris and Geoff under my control. Mike wanted to help out too, but I decided to finish with the plan first before getting him in there.

Hmm… Now that I think of it, looking over for Chris would be a good thing. Trying to see if his rebuilt personality is fully working after the little… incident we had after meeting.

Yeah. That will be good, and I’ll also present him with his chores and work at the club.

‘Excellent idea!’ I told myself, before answering ‘Why, thank you!’ to myself.

I… I should get going before I keep talking to myself. Yeah, that’s also a good idea. I called Chris over and summoned him to the sports club, as I grabbed my bag and left my apartment. It was going to be a good day!

----

I arrived at the entrance of the sports club, and grabbed the keys from my pocket. It’s been a while since I’ve actually been at this place, but I was used to it since Mike dragged me a lot to workout with him. (Not that I’m complaining, I have barely-noticeable definition in my muscles now!)

I looked around and noticed Chris waiting for me near the entrance. He just looked around with his headphones on.

Without his swimming cap, I noticed his blond hair was styled in a messy, kind of spiky way. It looked good on him. He was wearing some sunglasses, a plain light blue buttoned shirt and some blue shorts. His whistle was still hanging from a cord around his neck.

I must admit, it was nicer to be around him without feeling the dread of accidentally having erased his personality. But… I’d still have to be careful, because I didn’t want to break him again. He had a placeholder of a personality now, mainly created to make his body function as a normal human being.

I took a deep breath and walked up to him. He didn’t seem to notice me, so I patted his shoulder to catch his attention.

The coach looked down at me and grinned. “Hey man. Sorry, didn’t notice you there”

I mumbled a quick “Its-alright” before moving to the door and unlocking it. Chris followed me, still smiling. That’s part of the new personality, he’s excitable and happy, so he probably couldn’t wait to see the inside.

It was still quite clean, because I never asked the janitor to stop coming to work, even though the place was closed. I saw online that if you don’t keep big buildings like this one cleaned enough, it will quickly start decaying. The man received his full pay, I made sure of that too.

We were greeted by the nice view of the lobby, where people are supposed to show their credentials or sign up as a member to enter the actual thing.

Past this part, the big gym Mikey and I used to work out at (A bit unwillingly on my part, because Mike liked to play the personal trainer with me) and the doors that lead to the other parts, like the tennis court, the inside pool, and the locker rooms. I loved how this place maintained everything quite organized.

“So, what are we doing here, master?” Yup, as I suspected. When I tried to rebuild his personality I told him to treat me like a friend when in public, but as his master when alone. “You never finished explaining me my orders”

“I think you could take care of the pool area. I mean, coaching people in there and… you know, that kind of stuff”

He beamed up “Yes master! How did you know I like swimming so much? You’re the best!”

I tried to give him a warm smile, but I couldn’t help but feel bad. I sighed “By the way, did you bring what I asked you to?”

He looked at me, a bit confused, before a light bulb seemed to turn on above his head and he started looking through his pockets.

A few seconds later, he offered me his phone. “I took pictures of everything you asked in good quality, master. But what’s that for?”

I made a dismissive gesture with my hand “You’ll find out in a while. For now, why don’t we go check the pool?”

He nodded blissfully. His new personality seems to be working, at least for the basic social actions. He should be much ruder, to be honest. But I preferred to make him a nice guy instead of rebuilding him into an asshole.

…That shouldn’t be my choice, actually. But it’s not like the mind police is going to come after Leo because he erased someone’s personality and stepped out for me to fix it, right?

I had an idea for getting him back to his old self. I could totally leave him like this and he would be completely functional. But with this placeholder personality I made up, his memories weren’t working as they should. After a day or so, he messaged me about “a strange man messaging him when he was sure they never talked before, and a bunch of things that he didn’t know how they appeared on his apartment”. He NEEDED a permanent fix, and I was the one who was going to do it.

We walked through the gym, and into the locker rooms. “Do you have swimming trunks or should I get you some at the equipment store?” I tell you, this place has everything. I get why Mike loves it, and that’s some of the reason I want to see it growing again, too.

“I’m wearing my speedos, master! They feel really comfortable!” Huh, never ordered him to do that. But that’s great, it could be his original personality resurfacing!

“Great. Let’s get changed, then!”

I started to take off my clothes, slowly. I was thinking about what I had to do.

I read about this theory in one of my psychology books, about the mind and how it stores stuff. I like to think that a personality can’t be fully erased, and it can be brought back with enough stimulus and maybe some help with my powers.

That’s why I wanted him to bring a few of his things. Trophies, family photos, anything that could help me rebuild the narcissistic swimmer’s original self.

I looked at him and noticed he was already on his speedo. Quite fast, I like it.

I finished undressing and grabbed some swimming trunks from my bag, as Chris blissfully waited for me to be ready by the door.

I finished, grabbed his phone from a bench and walked towards him. “Let’s start, alright?”

“Yes, master!” Chris and I entered the pool area afterwards. The place seemed just like the one we visited just some days ago, but decorated with different announcements and a few triangles hanging from the walls (Like some kind of tournament decoration, or a party!)

The water was clean, and if I opened up this place today, no one would manage to tell it’s been closed for a few weeks already. I’ve also been hyping it up on the club’s social media so… Everything was almost ready.

Almost, because the coaches still needed some tuning in their programming.

Chris looked around, excited. I could tell he wanted to jump in and do some laps, but he had to wait for my commands.

I looked at his unlocked phone in my hand, passing pics until I found one of a big, golden trophy. It had some kind of ocean wave at the top of it and the inscription “2014’s swimming tournament – First place”, along with a picture of him and what seemed to be some good looking sibling or friend holding it up with him. Great, that may be a good start.

I showed him the picture as he did some warm up exercises. “Remember what happened here?”

He looked kind of confused, and shook his head “I know I won that because I have the trophy, but I can’t remember it happening, master. The guy’s name is Jimmy, though. I’ve learned that after texting with him a few times in the last few days, but I can’t remember much of him either. He’s a friend!”

Cool, that would make a nice start point.

I backed up his placeholder personality with the mind link, just in case something went wrong, and continued with my plan. I told him to sit down, and when he did, I pushed his personality to the back of his mind, driving him into a nice and mindless state.

His excited grin grew on his face, as his eyes became glassy. Now I wanted to have Mike in here with us, he reminded me a lot of mindless Mikey.

“I want you to listen closely, and try to search in your subconscious more information about Jimmy, can you do that for me?” I commanded him, with a bit of hope.

If everything went well… Chris would be himself in no time.

He nodded, and closed his eyes. He laid down in the ground, and I tried to look what happened in his mind with the help of our mind link. I just had to concentrate a bit… strengthen the bond and help him out…

I laid down in the floor and closed my eyes. I had to feeling that this would help, somehow, with my concentration.

As I suspected, Chris’ mind was empty, but I pushed a bit... more… I may be able to, I dunno, get something from him?

And… there I go! I could hear Chris mumbling something, but I was too focused to let this go.

I tried as hard as I could to push the enslaved swimmer deeper into the trance, and when I felt myself getting tired from doing it, I stopped and opened my eyes. “Chris?” I asked him.

The hunk beside me was drooling with his eyes totally zoned out. He barely seemed conscious, but he still answered a “Yes… master?”

“Do you know who Jimmy is?” I asked him, with hope in my voice. I didn’t care, I wanted to get somewhere with this. Anywhere, maybe just a step closer to fix the mess I indirectly caused to this poor man’s mind.

Chris gave me a very weak nod, followed by a “yes… master… Jimmy’s my… best friend…” Alright, probably something he already knew before, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

“And can you tell me more about Jimmy? How did the two of you met?” The psychologist inside of me loved this. I couldn’t wait to graduate and do this full time, it’s a piece of cake when you have mind control powers.

“Uh… Can’t… remember, master…” He dragged the words, I tried to make him push a bit deeper, until he continued speaking “Wait… Bodybuilding competition… He got in third place, and recognized me from Instagram… Became best bros afterwards…”

Holy. Cows.

I’m making progress! Hell yeah!

“Chris, you’re doing so well for me…” Hmm, maybe some stimulus from the outside may help him too? “Would you mind taking off your speedo, as you drift deeper and deeper into your subconscious?”

“Yeessss… masterrr…” He reached out for his red underwear and took it off with a kind of robotic move. Anyway, moving back to the rebuilding the swimmer part.

“I want you to listen very carefully, with each memory or fragment we recover from… the old you, Christopher Andrew Wright, you will start feeling a wave of pleasure through your entire body, but it’ll last a few seconds, vanishing until you reach a new memory, understood? When you gather all the pieces, you will feel better than you have ever felt in your life”

There, a little motivation. Chris smiled and mumbled “Yeeesss… master…” Such a nice and compliant coach I’ve got here.

“Now, going deeper…” I tapped the phone’s screen and looked for another pic. One that seemed to be a family pic, he was hugging an elder woman and a young-ish guy, probably a few years younger than Chris, who looked very much like him. I moved to show him the photo and said “What can you tell me about this one?”

He remained silent, vaguely looking at the phone with his drool still coming out of his mouth. His mind must have done ‘click’ after staring at the pic for a bit, and searching on his subconscious. The entranced Chris whispered “Mom… and ma lil’ bro…”

YAY! More progress! I wanted to yell from the excitement and adrenaline I was feeling, but that would startle the mindfucked man.

“And what can you tell me about them? Something from your childhood maybe?” Since it would be an old memory, he would probably need more effort to reach out to it. But in the state he was in now, and me pushing him deeper as he could go with the help of our mind link, this was going to be easy.

“I… My bro and I… we used to love soccer…” Huh, another jock? Not like I’m going to go out and get him but I’m always amused to hear about them.

I grew to like them a lot, the jock stereotype turning out to be one of my favorites by now. “We played a lot… until I found my passion for swimming…” A little smile crossed his expressionless face, probably because he remembered his favorite sport.

His cock started to harden too, the ‘pleasure wave’ suggestion doing its work and it made me smile for a bit, before realizing I had still work to do.

“Try holding on to the idea of swimming, and look out for when you discovered you enjoyed swimming. Can you do that for me, Chris?”

He nodded slowly again with a nice “Yeesss… master…” I waited patiently for him to work on his mind. This was going so good so far, and I couldn’t wait to see if I finally fixed Chris! If not, at least he would regain his memories, which would already make a great advance!

“I… won my first competition… it was during junior year… in high school, master…” The swimmer said. His cock was full hard by now, but that wasn’t important. I was too excited to care about horniness.

“So, are you now able to access your old memories, Chris?” The coach gave me a weak nod “Good, I want you to hold on to them in your mind, and try your best to pull them to the front, moving them from your subconscious to your conscious mind, understood?”

He didn’t seem to, given the rather confusion expression he made, but he was going to do everything I ordered him. “Yes master…”

I closed my eyes and focused on his mind link, to help him out. I would have to see if everything worked correctly after this was over, but so far, he seemed to do well on his own.

A few minutes later, Chris suddenly sat up. Eyes wide open and looked around in surprise.

“Where the fuck… Uh… Sports club, yeah…” He seemed to answer to himself, before looking at me, sitting next to him in front of the pool. “Master! May I ask what happened? I seem to have forgotten about the last days, for some reason?”

My head was hurting. Fuck, not another overload, please not be an overload.

The sole thought of having overloads again… but it was probably just the effort I put in pushing Chris deeper into his subconscious, right?

This wasn’t the whole overloading my mind with mind links, just overusing one mind link… Ugh, this feels awful. I better get back home to rest.

But before I do that, I could totally finish explaining Chris what happened, and help him set back on track. That would probably not need any of my powers’ input at all.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s better if you just pretend they were some normal rest days you’ve been taking, understood?” I put some power in my words, reassuring myself that verbal mind control wouldn’t make me go into a comma again. 

I was jumping from happiness in the inside, but had to take care of him first.

“Sure thing, master” He mumbled, with a nice grin. I sighed, relieved. I could finally stop worrying about Leo having accidentally erasing someone’s personality. 

I know how to bring them back (Unless Chris was a special case and not everyone stores their erased ‘mind’ in their subconscious. In that case, we would have a problem if this incident repeated itself).

He helped me get up, then stared at the pool. “Phew, water looks amazing. But I remember you wanted to teach me what I needed to do around here first, master!”

I looked at the pool. The water did look amazing, and I was tempted to jump right in and tell him to do a few laps together, but he was right, we had work to do. I also noticed he was still naked and full hard. His swimmer body looked really nice, and his cock wasn’t that bad either…

Wait, Piney. That’s your horny mind speaking, work comes first!

I sighed, I’ll have fun with the enslaved man some other time. For now, I had to be a good manager.

…For now.

-----

Chapter 7 is already available in my Patreon!  And by pledging you also get access to other stories before they go public!

[palettes-and-prompts]

100 Angsty Dialogue Prompts

1) "You're disappointed in me." 2) "I was just trying to do the right thing." 3) "I don't care how much you push me away, I said I'd never leave you and I meant that." 4) "They love me, I know they love me!" 5) "Could you hold me, just for a few minutes?" 6) "You're not going because if you get hurt then it's my ass on the line!" 7) "I just wanted to be like you." 8) "Why don't we go get some ice cream? Come on, you can keep your pajamas on and we'll go through the drive thru and eat it in the parking lot while we talk."   9) "Don't you get it? They're gone and they're never coming back!" 10) "You can cry, I promise I wont tell anyone." 11) "I can't believe I let myself get close to you." 12) "If they really loved you they wouldn't have left." 13) "I should be happy they're gone but I'm not, they're gone and I miss them so much." 14) "You're my responsibility, I can't just leave you here!" 15) "You were the biggest mistake I ever made." 16) "Don't cry, they don't deserve your tears." 17) "I told you things! Things I never told anyone!" 18) "Do you think they look at them the way they looked at me?" 19) "I can't do this anymore." 20) "Who hurt you? I got a guy who can hook me up with four dozen eggs, toilet paper, and bags of dog shit with just a phone call. Spill it, we'll take care of this right fucking now." 21) "I never asked you to save me!" 22) "Don't you ever say they didn't care about me! When you were off dicking around they were there for me, not you, them!" 23) "I just wanna be alone okay?" 24) "I feel like I was hit by a train, everything hurts." 25) "You said you'd never hurt me." 26) "They did what?" 27) "God I can't even look at you after what you did!" 28) "How long has it been since you ate something?" 29) "Why don't you get down from there and you and I can talk, okay?" 30) "When were you going to tell me you got suspended?" 31) "This is the sixth time you've sent a kid home with a black eye, what's going on?" 32) "I'm not mad at you, okay? It's just this new job and just picking everything up and moving and I'm just--let's just order a pizza." 33) "Don't worry, it's not my blood." 34) "I wish you wouldn't look at me like that." 35) "Did you ever love me?" 36) "I wish mom were here." 37) "You think I wanted to be stuck with you?" 38) "Stop treating me like them! I'm not them and I'm never going to be them!" 39) "I'll never love you." 40) "Don't kiss me." 41) "I know it doesn't seem like it right now but moving will be good for us, you'll see." 42) "It's almost four am, where have you been all night?" 43) "I wish you would just talk to me!" 44) "I wish you trusted me!" 45) "I can't do this right now, I need a cigarette." 46) "Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?" 47) "Why do you let them walk all over you?" 48) "Don't ever put your hands on me again." 49) "Please? For me?" 50) "Just give up on me, okay?!" 51) "I know you try to see the good in everyone but trust me on this, they're no good." 52) "I know everything hurts right now but I promise you it will get better." 53) "How long have you been seeing them behind my back?" 54) "I'll stay, but only for tonight." 55) "I don't need your charity!" 56) "You two do nothing but argue, why don't you do everyone a favor and just get a divorce already?!" 57) "You need to go to the police, you can't keep letting them do this to you." 58) "Where the fuck have you been? Do you know how fucking worried I was?!" 59) "I know you're mad at me but I'm only doing this to protect you." 60) "I'm not going to change my mind, not this time." 61) "I already lost them, I can't lose you too." 62) "I thought you were dead." 63) "I'm doing this for us! Everything I do is for us!" 64) "Please? They're all I have." 65) "How long have you been lying to me?" 66) "I want you out of the house by tomorrow." 67) "What happened to us, where did we go wrong?" 68) "You're leaving me? For them?" 69) "I'm never going to let them hurt you ever again." 70) "Just stay with me tonight and then you can be with them tomorrow, just one more time and I'll leave you alone forever. I promise I will, but just stay with me one last night." 71) "Why are they calling you at this hour?" 72) "You can't live like this anymore, pack your things, you're staying with me." 73) "I miss the way we used to be." 74) "Don't you ever scare me like that again, do you hear me?" 75) "Call me the second you get this. I wont be mad, I just want to know you're safe." 76) "When's the last time you had a home cooked meal?" 77) "I wont pretend to know how you're feeling but if you ever want to talk I'm here for you." 78) "Please just give me one more chance, I promise I'll never do it again." 79) "Hey, it's okay, I got you. You're alright, you're okay." 80) "I think we worked better when we were just friends." 81) "They're cheating on you!" 82) "When are you moving?" 83) "You can't have a glass of wine for dinner, come on, I'll buy you something to eat." 84) "The pharmacy called, they said you haven't picked up your medication in weeks." 85) "Do you miss them?" 86) "It was just once and it meant nothing to me!" 87)  "Do you think we could ever be friends again?" 88) "I saw you the other day. I saw you kissing them." 89) "Please don't make this more difficult than it has to be." 90) "I can't remember anything that happened last night, I just know that my brain feels like it's splitting in two." 91) "You never look at me anymore." 92) "You don't have to take care of me, your not my parent!" 93) "I have a confession to make. I kissed someone else last night, and I think I liked it." 94) "My mom said I can still come see you on weekends." 95) "You're walking home by yourself at this hour, are you fucking insane?" 96) "Why do you smell like their cologne/perfume?" 97) "What I said before, I didn't mean any of it." 98) "I'll be right there, just tell me where you are and I'll come get you." 99) "Who was it? You said you slept with one of my friends last night so tell me which one it was!" 100) "What happened last night? And why are you looking at me like that?"

[thepriceisrizzoli]

not people

Filling a prompt from socks-lost about wanting to see Maura struggle with a panic attack after Killer in High Heels.

The tile feels cool on Maura’s forehead. 

Normally, she would shudder at the thought of the petri dish jungles that would grow as a result of a bacterial swab of this tile. But all that matters right now is that its coolness feels a little bit soothing.

What’s the event, even? Something for charity, but which? It doesn’t matter. These functions are all the same. Polite small talk, pledge money, move on. Manageable. She’s been doing it all her life.

Then her eyes had settled on the glass in her hand, and she couldn’t remember for certain who she’d accepted it from, or what might be in it, or if she’d already sipped any of it. 

And then suddenly, there were too many unknowns. Too much sensory input to cope with. Too many strange faces, and the backs of heads were almost worse. Too many people, too close, too loud. Every conversation in the room blending into one overwhelming drone. A dozen different perfumes and colognes choking her. Even the seams of her dress seemed to shrink, digging into her skin and restricting her breathing.

She really hopes she hadn’t made a scene on her way to the restroom. It wasn’t empty, and holding herself together for the extra thirteen steps it took to reach the privacy of this end stall was almost more than she could bear. The tears had burst from her before she even turned around to lock the door, quickly ruining the makeup she promised herself she wouldn’t have to reapply.

If only she could disappear without having to speak to anyone or be seen by anyone. Just blink and magically be at home. She feels pathetic and afraid and helpless in this little cell, which is as much like a cage as it is like temporary safety from the entire world. Though initially a relief, the solitude is now ringing in her ears as loudly as the cacophony of the crowd had. 

It’s only after a few breaths that she realizes part of that cacophony she had fled was Jane saying her name.

Jane is out there. Her plus one. Totally out of her element and only here to be supportive. She has every right to come bursting in here, complaining about being left stranded out there in a dress she hates, with a bunch of stuffy strangers, at a function she has no interest in.

Fresh tears spill at the realization that she’ll have no emotional energy to deal with that. Maura had run into this bathroom like a scared little animal looking for a crevice to crawl into, and if Jane reaches a hand in after her, she doesn’t know what she might do except shut down, or maybe bite.

The hand dryer goes off, exposing the sharpness of her breathing to the echoing quiet. She covers her mouth, eyes stinging and lungs burning from trying to silence her sobs. Over by the sinks a couple of younger women laugh, and even though she knows it’s not about her, somehow it sounds like it is. 

Door hinges. Maura recognizes the new set of footsteps even in the dialect of heel clicks instead of their native boot stomps. Then there they are in the little gap under the door: the sage almond pumps she picked out with Jane forty hours earlier, just to match a dress she’ll never wear a second time.

She braces.

“Maura?”

"Hm,” is all she can say without revealing her state.

“You okay?” Jane sounds... gentle.

How nice lying must be. She could say yes and Jane would go away and this would be one step closer to being over.

“I jus-st need a minute.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, holding her breath, too close to having her little bubble breached.

“Okay.”

The shoes disappear. Somebody runs the dryer and she can breathe again.

A minute later, something wedges in the crack of the stall door. A piece of paper.

Unfolding reveals it as a torn off piece of the glossy program she was handed when she entered the event. Her tears slow as she tries to understand the words written on it.

If you want company but don’t want to say a word, text me 1.

Company but I don’t talk either - 2

Stand over here and keep the dryer running - 3

Immediate escort off the premises no questions asked - 4

You need to be alone - 5

Anything else - name it. I have your back.

She has to read it four times before absorbing it, but once she does, it’s like a light turns on. 

Panic told her she was all alone. It had her lumping Jane in with people.

There is some whining and teasing, yes. But when something serious is happening, there could be no one more ferociously on her side than Jane Rizzoli. She has it all. Cop authority. Friend comforts. Big sister powers. She’s her go-to for anything and everything.

Jane isn’t people. Jane is Jane.

She finds her phone in her purse.

1.  Send.

Feet reappear within fifteen seconds. There is no knock.

She unlatches the door, opening it to find a soft smile waiting. It makes her wonder how awful she must look.

Despite the premise of the text she just sent, the first thing she does is start rambling.

“I just don’t kn-now wh-   I don’t know! I don’t know.”

Giving up on expressing herself, she pushes into Jane’s arms instead, repeating herself uselessly.

Jane walks them a step into the stall and pushes the door shut with her elbow. “Okay,” she wraps her arms around Maura and leans a cheek on her head. “Okay.”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know who an-nyone is. I don’t-”

“You know me.”

Maura goes quiet, breathing hard. 

“Nobody’s here but you and me.” 

Jane's hand moves up and down her back. 

“You’re safe. I know it doesn’t feel okay, but it will be. We’ll just hang out here as long as it takes to feel more okay. And then we’ll go home. You don’t have to talk to a single person. Okay?”

Maura nods with a hiccupy sigh.

“Okay. Now just breathe with me.”

It takes time to realize that this isn’t a hug. It’s shaped like a hug, but a hug would’ve lasted just long enough to express sympathy, and this is not ending. This is a hold. And it makes her feel protected, and not alone. And it feels devastatingly good to just hide in and cry like there’s no time limit. Jane’s hands hold her securely, rubbing soft circles on her back. It helps calm her enough that when she opens her eyes again it’s almost a surprise to remember where they still are. If only it could continue this way, but at home instead of in a public bathroom stall.

She can’t tell how long they’ve been in there, but it’s probably been too long. Begrudgingly, she peels herself out of the embrace.

“Everything...  just..”

“Got cranked up to 11 all of a sudden?” Jane finishes quietly. “And all you wanna do is teleport home and curl up in a dark room and shut off.”

Maura heaves a sigh. “Yeah.”

"Let’s teleport.”

“Oh... I haven’t excused myself,” she realizes with a near-sob. “I didn’t say goodbye to our hosts.”

“I took care of it,” Jane shakes her head.

“What did you say?”

“I said something came up that required our attention and that you sent your appreciation and regrets and blah blah blah, it was fine. They think you left already. No one’s looking for you.”

Relief floods through her.

That’s why, come to think of it... Maura was in here for at least a few minutes on her own. It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder why Jane hadn’t followed her immediately. She was out there smoothing over the situation, keeping anyone from following, making it less like a scene.

“Okay. Here’s the exit strategy: I’m gonna lead you out the door in full hockey gear. Anybody tries to talk to you, I body check them into the ice sculpture. It’ll be ladies screaming, monocles falling into champagne flutes-”

A laugh jumps from her throat, small but unexpected enough to come out sounding as much like a cough. Jane sounds pleased to have earned at least that.

Her actual suggestion is to bring the car around to the service exit, and then come back to escort her out.

After making the best of her face, Maura follows Jane out, letting herself be led by the hand. She feels like a small child being helped to cross a street, but somehow in this context it’s reassuring instead of condescending. 

She pushes through half a set of double doors, holding it open for her. 

The voice is immediate, and male. 

“Excuse me, ladies, but this area-”

“Boston police,” Jane barks without slowing or even altering their course, even though he is directly ahead of them. “Clear the exit.”

In her peripheral vision Maura can see the man - kitchen staff maybe - stepping aside, showing his palms in disinterested surrender. Not paid enough to stand in the way and be bulldozed. She notices how Jane is angling herself to block her from view as much as is casually possible as they move past.

She focuses on Jane’s shoulder blades, visible thanks to her updo and the low-ish back of the dress she’d talked her into. Imagining her instead in hockey gear almost brings a smile to Maura’s face.

Something about the safety of the car makes her start crying again, and to her relief, Jane simply lets her.

- - -

The next time she looks at the clock, it reads 12:41. 

She must have fallen asleep. She wants nothing more than to fall back asleep, but something is nagging at her... besides the fact that she’s fallen asleep in her makeup. 

It’s Jane. Jane protected her and drove her home, but she doesn’t recall saying a single word to her since they left that bathroom. No effort to be appreciative or even hospitable. Her only goal upon arriving home was tearing off that dress so she could finally breathe and crashing in bed just long enough to catch her breath.

Her eyes move across her bedroom, dimly lit by the light of her closet filtering through its slatted door.

Her dressing table. Her nightstand. Legs on the bed. 

Legs on the bed?

Jane is lying on the bed next to her.  Propped up halfway on pillows, and with hands folded neatly over her stomach, she looks more like she’s waiting than sleeping.

“Hey,” she says, and Maura jumps slightly even though her presence is not a surprise. Her nerves feel shredded.

“Sorry,” Jane adds quickly. “It’s just me. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be alone.”

Maura rubs her eyes. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Nah, that’s exactly what you needed.”

She feels more settled now, though exhausted and embarrassed... however with Jane here to look out for her, it’s not so terrible. Being that vulnerable in front of someone she trusts feels nice, in a way.

“Do you? Want to be alone?”

Apologetically excusing Jane is her first instinct, but she pauses. Going back to sleep sounds nice, but having Jane there sounds even nicer. Her presence is so calming.

“No.”

"’kay.” Jane sits up and pats a little folded pile on the foot of the bed. “I grabbed some pajamas for you.”

“I’m alread- oh,” glancing down, she realizes she was in such a hurry to get out of that dress that she never put anything else on, and is still just in underwear. Hopefully she was the one who pulled the bed sheet over herself. 

That’s what makes her check to see what Jane is wearing, if not still her dress from the benefit. She’s found one of the old tees and sweats of her own that are always stashed in Maura’s drawers.

"Let me go get you a glass of water,” Jane smirks.

Getting ready for bed gives Maura her second wind. That little crash helped recharge her at least to the point where she can think again - not necessarily a good thing - and now she doesn’t feel like trying to go directly to sleep.

They end up in their go-to place for processing: the couch. Side by side, they just sit in silence for a little while.

Earlier it was all just a tornado of raw data, but now she’s starting to be able to organize it and analyze what had happened. 

“I feel so ridiculous.” Her voice still sounds congested.

“You aren’t.”

“But there was no real threat at all. Am I that afraid of a dead man?”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

Jane doesn’t talk about Hoyt that much, but Maura knows that’s what she means.

Neither of them really fear dead men. What they fear is that those men weren’t unique. There are more of them in the world - it’s a statistical certainty. There’s just no way of knowing which they are. 

That’s where she’d lost it at the benefit tonight. All those smiling faces, each one Schrödinger’s acquaintance. Simultaneously a pleasant conversationalist and potential catastrophic threat to her safety, her sanity, her life. 

“I keep doing the math. The number of new people I tend to encounter in an average work week - the prevalence of violent crime and psychopathy and-”

“Hey,” Jane says, shushing softly. “I know, but we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” 

Maura allows herself to lean to the side when pulled, and Jane shifts enough to put her chin on top of Maura’s head. It feels warm and safe and reassuring, like the way puppies must feel when they sleep all together in a pile.

“You’re home. You’re safe. You don’t have to think about anything else.”

She closes her eyes, but something is keeping her from totally relaxing. Jane must think she’s much worse off than she is, and to not correct her feels kind of deceptive.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“I know you don’t like hugging people. I’m not in danger. I’m not in distress anymore... I just like the company.”

She feels a little breath come out of Jane’s chest, like that had been amusing.

“You’re not people.”

Well... in that case, maybe it’s okay to wrap her other arm around Jane’s waist and relax against her. She does, and Jane retaliates with what she’s at least ninety-six percent sure was a kiss on the top of her head.

It gives her a thousand additional questions, but those can be answered later. Right now the important thing is that everything feels safe. And this hug - no, hold - is lasting so long that the only way she can even tell Jane’s awake is the little intermittent back-and-forth thumb near her shoulder.

She's falling asleep on the couch. On Jane. 

She does absolutely nothing about it.

[404gendernotfound]

Living with a Hybrid Part 10 (Hybrid!Taeyong x Reader)

Summary: After Taeyong found the letter you had to explain to him why you hid it away. You opened it together to find some shocking news that you never thought you’d receive. After breaking down and Taeyong called Johnny over, you had to explain to the confused hybrid what was going on.

Contains: pure angst with a bit of fluff

Warnings: hyperventilating, talking about cheating/broken home, mentioning of death

Wordcount: 3,1 K

Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

________________________________________________________________

“Are you searching for this?”, Taeyong asked and waved with the letter in his hand.

I was relieved that the letter was still here but at the same time I felt guilty for hiding it from him. I nodded at his question and stepped closer to him. He looked at the letter and then handed it to me.

“Is this why you looked so tense today?”, he asked and looked at me worried.

I didn’t notice that he saw that. I tried to hide it as good as I could but he must have still seen it.

“You noticed that? I’m sorry. I just wanted to enjoy the day and cope with this later”, I explained and looked at the letter in my hand.

“Of course I noticed. I’ve lived with you for almost two months. I know when somethings off. But why did you hide it from me?”

I didn’t know what to say. How was I supposed to explain it to him when I didn’t know it myself? Maybe I didn’t want him to worry about me unnecessarily just because I got a letter from my mom that I was afraid to open since all the bad memories were threatening to come back again or maybe it was to keep him safe from her. I couldn’t explain it since it was to complicated.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Taeyong wrapped his arms around me and hugged my tight. He softly kissed my head before he looked down at me and smiled with the most sincere look on his face I’ve ever seen.

“It’s ok, Y/N. I understand. Did you open it already?”

I shook my head and looked at the name written on the letter. I never expected to receive a letter from my mom ever again. I haven’t heard from her in a long time and I actually didn’t care much about her since that one day that had changed everything. I never ever wanted to see her again.

“It’s from my mom”

Taeyong seemed to notice that I was getting anxious because he grabbed my hand and squeezed it to show me that he was there for me.

“Do you want to open it together?”, he asked looking down at me.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know if I want to open it.”

He took the letter from me hands and then pulled me towards the kitchen table to sit down. He sat down and pulled me down to sit next to him.

“We can open it together, ok?”, he suggested and then pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist to show me that I was safe here and that he would protect me.

I nodded and opened the letter.

Dear Y/N,

It’s been sometime since I last saw you. I was thinking about writing this letter for some time, but I didn’t know where to start. After your dad died I was alone. I didn’t know what to do with my life anymore and I felt sad. I never thought that I would find someone like him again but I did. I met Gregory last year at a charity event and I think it was love at first sight. We started to talk a lot and meet up. We got closer pretty fast and started to date. He asked me to move in with him and then a few months later, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, of course and I want you to meet him since he’s gonna be part of your family too. I don’t know what’s going on in your love life but if you found someone you can take them with you. I’d be happy to meet them. I just want us to have some mother daughter time again. If you’re free next weekend I’d love you to came visit me and Gregory in our new house.

In Love,

Mom

I couldn’t breathe as I finished reading. I felt like I was dying. Tears were streaming down my face uncontrollably. My heart was racing and I felt like blacking out any time soon. Taeyong grabbed the letter from my hands and placed it facing downwards on the table.

“Are you ok? What’s wrong?”, he asked with panic in his eyes.

“I can’t breathe”, was the only thing I could say before I started to hyperventilate.

Taeyong looked around panicking. He didn’t know what to do. He sat me down next to him and walked around the kitchen trying to figure out how he could help me. He noticed the paper bag laying on the kitchen counter and gave it to me. I started to breathe into in and tried to calm myself down again. After some time my breathing had stabilized again and I placed the paper bag on the table and looked at Taeyong.

“Thank you”, I said still out of breath and hugged him as he sat back down next to me.

“You scared me. I didn’t know what to do”, he whispered hugging me back tighter.

“I’m sorry. I’m fine now so no need to worry about me.”

We separated and I grabbed the letter again. I was still feeling like I was about to collapse but at least my breathing was ok again. I read over the words written in her handwriting again and placed it back on the table. Taeyong was still sitting next to me, confused about what was happening and why I was reacting like I was right now. He must have felt lost since he wrapped his arms around me again, securing that I was still there and showing that he was concerned. I turned to him and took a deep breath.

“Can you call Johnny and tell him that we have a code red? He knows what to do”, I asked Taeyong while I stood up ready to run to the bathroom if my body decided for me that it was best to get rid of all that I had eaten today.

He nodded still confused and pulled out his phone. Shortly after that I noticed this pain in my stomach before I rushed to the bathroom. Arriving there I emptied my stomach into the toilet for the second time today. This time it wasn’t relieving, it just felt painful. My throat was burning and the pain made my eyes water again. I felt like I was going to lose consciousness when I felt Taeyong gathering my hair in one of his hands holding it while I continued to puke. He softly stroked my back whispering “I got you. Let it all out. You’ll feel better after”. After the urge to gag had subsided I sat down on the floor and wiped my mouth with a towel. I must be looking like a mess right now but Taeyong was still looking at me with that comforting soft smile that made me instantly feel better.

“Thank you”, I whispered barely loud enough for me to hear it.

He helped me to stand back up so I could wash out my mouth in the sink so this awful taste would be gone. As I finished washing my mouth the doorbell rang.

“You should sit back down”, Taeyong suggested and helped my to sit down on the edge of the bathtub.

“I’ll be right back”, he said and kissed my forehead before he walked to the front door.

A few seconds later you could already hear Johnny bursting into the apartment. He appeared in the bathroom like a flash and rushed over to me.

“Are you ok? Taeyong really scared me when he said code red”, Johnny said before Taeyong joined us.

“I don’t know.”, was the only thing I could say since I wasn’t sure if I was ok.

Taeyong walked over and lifted me up into his arms and carried me bridal style into the living room, Johnny following shortly after. He sat me down onto the couch cautiously and handed me a blanket. My heart hurt for a moment seeing how caring he was and how hard it had to be right now to see me like this without knowing what was going on. Taeyong then left the room. Johnny sat down next to me and handed me the plastic bag he had been holding all this time.

“Here. I never thought that I would have to give these to you again but here we are. You look terrible”, he said and earned a hit against his shoulder from me.

Or at least that should have been a hit but I didn’t even have the strength so it just ended up being a slightly stronger pat. He laughed at my behaviour and watched me unpack what he brought me. I noticed my heart hurt as I saw the pill package again that I hadn’t seen for what felt like years. I opened it and took some of the pills out of the blister. Johnny looked at me worried and I send him a slight smile to show him that it was ok. Taeyong returned with a glass of water and his eyes opened wide as he saw the different pills on my hand.

“I though you might want to drink some water. What are these for?”, he asked while handing me the glass of water.

“Did you tell him already?”, Johnny asked when I downed the pills.

I swallowed them and shook my head. Taeyong looked between us confused. I should tell him what was going on before he was just worrying more. I sat the glass back down onto the table and pat the free space next to me. He instantly understood and sat down next to me.

“Taeyong. I can see that you are confused about what’s going on so I should tell you what’s wrong. I’ve never talked about my family to anyone other than Johnny and Mark since they were the only ones that were there for me when it happened.”

Taeyong looked at me understanding and extended his hand to take mine. He laced our fingers and squeezed my hand slightly to show me that he was listening. Feeling more at ease now with him at my side I began to tell my story.

“I was 16 when I first noticed that something was wrong with my mom. She would tell me and my dad that she would go on a business trip or that she had to work late and every time she came back she never wanted to talk about it. ‘I’m exhausted. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow’ she would say to avoid questions and then never mention anything again. I wasn’t really thinking anything bad. I trusted her and she was my idol for a long time until she came home and broke the news that she was leaving. I didn’t understand. I was blaming myself. Maybe I had done something wrong and that was the reason why she decided to leave. She had packed some of her stuff and left. For about 2 weeks she never came home again to pick up the rest of her stuff and I was curious what was going on. I was going through her stuff and found her diary. She must have left it without knowing it. I never intended to read it but I was so sad and broken that I couldn’t stop. What I read was nothing I ever expected. She had been cheating on dad for 4 years and she wrote that she wasn’t going to tell him anytime soon. I was crying that day when dad came home. He found me in my room with that diary and he read it. He was so mad that he took her stuff and threw it into the next container. He tried to calm me down and told me that everything was going to be fine. That we didn’t need her after what she had done. But then a few days she came back home. Saying that what she had said had been a mistake and that she was going to come back. Dad just threw her diary at her and then she knew that she really fucked up. But that wasn’t enough for her. She admitted it and then tried to convince dad to give her a second chance. The only reason was because her 4 year lover had left her and now she had nowhere to go. Dad threw her out and changed the locks so she couldn’t come back. We then slowly turned back to a normal family with now just me and my dad.”

I had to take a breath since tears where flowing down my face and even though I took these pills to calm me down it was still hard to breath and the pain was still there. Taeyong pulled our intertwined hands up to his mouth and softly placed a kiss on each of my fingers. He was trying to show me that I was ok. That I was safe with him and Johnny who sat next to me softly stroked my other hand knowing how hard it was for me to open up about my past.

“When I turned 18 I announced to my dad that I would leave for college and he was ok with it. He even told me he would support me with everything he could and I was so happy. I moved here since college was near and I really liked this building. I was a loner at first and I would go home whenever I had the time for it. I noticed that dad had been drinking more often but I wasn’t concerned since the amount was less than an alcoholic. Then one day when I came home there was this smell and I didn’t know what it came from. I walked into the living room to see dad laying on the couch with bottles of wine and beer all over the floor. All empty. He was barely breathing so I called an ambulance. He died before we could reach the hospital. I didn’t know what to do. I had lost everything. I didn’t have a family I could go to. I didn’t even have friends until I ran into Johnny and Mark. Mark had a cast on his leg and Johnny was supporting him when I ran into them at the hospital. I normally wouldn’t talk to strangers or show my feelings, but I couldn’t control myself. I broke down in front of them and just cried a long time. I had just lost the last family I really had. Johnny being his caring self, he had offered to listen to what happened to me and being a total mess I told them whatever came to my mind. So I explained what was going on and he offered me to take me home. I didn’t want to go back to my dads house so I told him to drive me to were I was living now and we noticed that we were living in the same building. Long story short, we became best friends and they both really helped me get through that time. Mark helped me clean the house and Johnny looked for a buyer since I couldn’t go back into that house without thinking about my dads death. While cleaning the house we found a letter and a voicemail. Mom had called him that day, saying that she loved him and that she was sorry that she ruined our life and that she will always be there. Dad then wrote a goodbye letter and drank himself to death. He wrote that he couldn’t do it anymore and that he was sorry to leave me behind but that I was a strong independent woman that could find a happy life again. I broke down then and there. I isolated myself after we had sold the house and my dads funeral. I had invited my mom but she never came. I knew after this that everything was a lie and that she didn’t care anymore. I fell into a deep depression. I didn’t go to college anymore and started jobbing here and there. For two years I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself until the boys took me on a trip. We travelled around the country for 3 months without a plan. It was like a long road trip and it really helped me. All the pills that I had to take against my depression, anxiety and panic attacks were pointless now. I didn’t need them anymore. I gave them to Johnny so he could put them somewhere I didn’t know. We agreed that if something would happen I’d call him saying that it was code red and that I needed those pills since they are the only thing that can calm me down after a shock. That’s why I told you to call him”

Taeyongs mouth was opened wide in shock and his eyes were watering. He looked like he was about to cry. He pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all this shit. I wish I could have met you earlier so I could have protected you.”

“It’s alright. I’m glad you are here now. I think I would have gone mad after reading that letter without you being by my side all the time. Thank you, Taeyong”, I sobbed against his shoulder now crying even harder than before.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked to Johnny. “I’ll leave you two alone now. Call me if you need anything”, he mouthed silently and then left.

We both cried together for some time before we separated from the hug again. Taeyong wiped away my tears and took both of my hands in his.

“I understand now why you reacted that way. Your mom really seems to be a bad person. She doesn’t deserve such a lovely daughter like you.”, he said and nuzzled his nose against mine.

“I’ll keep you save from all the pain. I’ll be there for you. I’ll make you smile again. You deserve all the happiness in the world after what you have gone through. I’ll make sure that you will be your happiest self in the future. Just please stop crying now. It’s breaking my heart to see you this sad”

To be continued…

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “The One That Got Away” Part 2

The terrorist attack targeting Wayne National Bank nearly three years ago left only one survivor behind: Y/N almost died from the injuries, but she was lucky enough to wake up at the hospital days later. It was so hard to cope with the news: on top of losing her eyesight, the young woman lost her co-workers also and strangely enough the one responsible for the entire tragedy wasn’t The Clown Prince of Crime.

Four weeks later

“Now we’re going up five steps,” Bruce announces and you carefully walk holding on to his arm. “Almost there. Do you want more champagne or a cocktail?”

“Actually Mister Wayne, I would like a shot of whiskey,” you reply and he signals the bartender.

“I wouldn’t mind one either,” he adds and orders: “Two shots of whiskey please!”

“How long do we have to be here?” you exhale, enjoying the ambiance nevertheless. You wish this could be one of the instances when you are able to see; it must be a really fancy venue. Unfortunately, your vision didn’t return at all after the incident leading up to The Joker saving you from the Triple Star gang.

“Maybe another hour or so, unless you don’t feel well and then I can drive you back to your apartment.”

“I’m ok, no worries. It’s just a bit weird: I’m not used to this kind of stuff,” a nervous Y/N confesses.

“Charity balls can be overwhelming,” Bruce nods in agreement. “Everyone talks and talks, eats, drinks and talks some more. The purpose is to make these rich people give up on their money for good causes so it’s worth it.”

You laugh at his honesty, making sure to underline you’re grateful for the opportunity:

“Thank you for including my charity; I really appreciate it and it means a lot. I will be able to help more people.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Bruce sighs, grabbing the drinks from the bartender. “Here you go,” the glass is given to you. “Since this year it was my turn to organize the event, might as well use the hype from what happened to the Angel of Gotham and get you more funding. Sorry, I don’t want to sound insensitive,” he apologizes when he notices the change in your mood. “That was stupid to say,” Bruce admonishes himself and you try to stir the conversation towards another topic.

“It’s fine; I understand what you mean, Mister Wayne,” you taste a sip of alcohol and continue. “If you want to ask any questions about what happened… you can.”

The billionaire puckers his lips, debating on the unexpected chance to dig out some information that could shed some light on your abduction and surprising intervention from The Clown Prince of Crime. He did read the police report with your statement courtesy of Commissar Gordon, yet off the record discussion is more than welcomed.  

“Let’s go on the terrace then for more privacy,” he suggests and you take Bruce’s arm again, following his guidance.

You pass by people engaged in several chats, hoping nobody will stop you for trivial interrogations you’re not comfortable answering.  

“Did they… did they…e-hem… do… anything…ummm…to you?” Bruce stutters because he has no idea how to convey the inquiry without sounding like a total jerk invading your personal life.

“I said it to the cops also: no, I wasn’t sexually assaulted,” you reaffirm and he grumbles, relieved.

“Thank goodness,” the 35 year old taps your fingers. “I don’t even know why my mouth even uttered such rubbish…I know it’s none of my business,” and he immediately corrects the sentence. “As in of course I would care about something like that, but I shouldn’t force you to share.”

“You’re digging your own grave, Mister Wayne,” you interrupt his tirade since he doesn’t know how to handle the situation.

“Uh, I know. I’m sorry Y/N,” and you laughter makes him chuckle too. “Bad luck,“ Bruce concludes as soon as you are both on the patio. “There are lots of people outside; do you mind using the small conference room? It’s empty,” he gazes through the opened glass doors and you follow him, compliant.

“Of course, no problem.”

“Let’s take a sit on this purple couch,” he urges and you oblige, smiling:

“So many purple items around here,” Y/N has to emphasize because Bruce kept on describing the environment to her and that stood out. “A splash of color never hurts; it must be really nice.”

“I like purple; it’s my favorite color,” he stares at you, searching for a reaction when the tip of the knife he’s holding almost touches your cornea. But there’s no reflex and the man smirks, returning the blade to his pocket. He drinks some more, restarting the debriefing:

“Do you know where you were taken? I mean, I know you are not able to see, still did anything catch your attention? Any noises? Particular smells?”

“No, nothing” you pout. “I assume it was outside town: it was quiet and Gotham is never silent. They transported me in a van, a larger vehicle. I’m sure of that since there were several individuals with me. A few moments after being kidnapped I was hit in the head and passed out.”

And when you woke up you were blind again, not that Bruce needs to know.

“I think I was locked in a basement, very tiny space…I was given some food and water. I lost track of time and at one point I heard someone yelling that The Joker arrived, then a lot of turmoil and a harsh argument. It worsened and almost lost my mind when the shooting started: I was so scared and had no clue about what the hell was happening.”

You pause and gulp, the memory of the frightful circumstances making you shrug.

“My apologies,” Bruce remorsefully hums. “I shouldn’t make you recall such an unpleasant experience… I will get us some grape juice on ice.”

“Grape juice?...” you take advantage of the welcomed change  in topic. Great way to divert your attention from the anxiety you feel while saying out loud what you already disclosed to the cops.

“It’s such a refreshing beverage; I can’t live without it,” he admits and tries to stand up but you stop him.

“Please don’t go; if someone stumbles upon this room in your absence it will be awkward for me; you’re the only person I know at this reception.”

“Of course,” Bruce agrees right away. “I’m definitely not in my best shape today; we can go and get the drinks together.”

“That’s better,” you smile yet don’t show any signs you want to move so he patiently waits; the philanthropist assumes there’s more you wish to say and he doesn’t push for a continuation of your story.

Y/N finishes the drink and glares at the man veiled in darkness just like everything else surrounding her.  

“Do you know what the scariest part was, Mister Wayne?”

Complete stillness and you whisper:

“When I heard somebody screamed: Grenade! It was such a powerful explosion, it reminded me of what happened that day at the bank…”

Bruce doesn’t respond and a tearful Y/N wraps up her story in a way that makes her date impatient for the grand finale:

“The air was so thick I couldn’t even breathe and I fainted. I remember hands digging me out from under the rubble, words and sentences I couldn’t comprehend since I was drifting in and out of consciousness. And then I woke up at the hospital…”

“Mmm…” Bruce pouts. “Do you have any idea why The Joker saved you?”

“I was told about the incident at my Soup Kitchen…and I was shocked. I have no idea why he did that…” you reveal not mentioning you spent countless hours debating about it.

“Possibly because he’s sick and tired of The Triple Star gang meddling with his plans? What kind of stupid name is that anyway? Triple Star!!” he hisses. “Do you know they all have three star tattooed on their backs?! Who does that anymore?! What are they?! Kindergarten brats?!”

Why is Bruce getting so mad?!

“The Joker owns Gotham! Nobody else!!!”

You’re a bit uncomfortable with his rant and it shows.

“Mister Wayne…”

He has no more patience and you get cut off:

“You know why The Joker rescued you? Because he needs you for something, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered. And to prove he’s in charge and not the competition!”

“Mister Wayne, please calm down. You’re making me nervous…” a concerned Y/N pleads.

The man scoffs, straining to regain control over himself.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he chuckles and takes your hand into his, amused by what he’s about to divulge. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Y-yes, of course,” you stammer and want to continue when he reaches over and kisses you, biting your lower lip seconds afterwards.

You wince in pain, freezing when the tone changes to one you hoped you won’t hear again:

“Oh my; am I too rough, sugar?”

You yank your hands away but he won’t let go.

“What is this?!” you pant, struggling to distance yourself from The Joker without success.

He laughs with all his heart, enjoying your stunned attitude.

“It’s your old pal J with the best voice synthesizer money can buy. It’s not that hard to copy someone’s voice with these things, especially since you can find interviews online with the pretty boy.”

You stop fighting his clasp and carefully listen to the wireless mike hidden in your ear:

“Remain calm, Y/N! No matter what you do, don’t set him off!”

The Clown Prince of Crime though has to brag about his achievement and makes sure to bring you up to speed:

“I picked you up in my limo before he did; the rich boy probably wondered where you were when he showed up at your apartment. Congratulations, sugar: you just stood up a billionaire,” the green haired madman snickers. “I have plenty of resources to recreate a party and people that work for me to pose as guests. You’re not at a charity ball, sugar; I simply took you to one of my humble abodes.”    

You feel so exposed, yet your current situation demands a strong determination to help maintain the appearances. The Joker’s fingers suddenly go around your neck, the immediate threat resonating in the room:

“You will do money laundering for me! You will do as I say or I’ll make your life a living hell to the point of you now knowing what’s real and what’s not! Do I make myself clear?!!” he snaps and you nod a yes, obedient to his request.

“Good girl,” he sniffs your scent. “Now I should take you back, I’m tired with the charade; it was fun but exhausting,” he grins and can’t shut up: “The pretty boy must be wondering where you are.”

You want to hold in the defiant remark but can’t:

“What makes you think Mister Wayne doesn’t know where I am?”

“Oh shit!” you hear in your ear. “We’re moving in!”

The Joker frowns, intrigued: the red dots focusing on his chest are an affirmation of snipers ready to take him out.

“What did you do, sugar?” he barks and takes the knife out of his pocket, stabbing your abdomen: the resistance he encounters gives another clue he got played. Y/N is wearing a customized bullet proof vest under her cocktail dress but it’s not enough to stop the blade.

“T-thank you…” you have time to tell him before they barge in.

“For what?” he resentfully snarls, removing the knife from your body.

“For proving you don’t deserve to be saved,” you admit with such serenity he’s thrown off for once.

The noise of broken glass and shattered objects makes you jump as you moan in pain.

“On your knees!!!” the squad barges in, aiming their rifles at The Joker. “Drop the weapon! NOW!”

The gun shots echoing throughout the house are a logical testimony that the SWAT team is swiping out the premises, taking out those from The Joker’s crew daring to fight back.

“Hands above your head!” the team leader shouts and the kneeled King of Gotham obeys with a demented smirk as the knife he dropped is being kicked away from him.

“Civilian hurt, requiring medical assistance!” another team member requests, pressing on your wound. “Don’t worry Miss, you’ll be fine. OK?” the guy reassures. “You were very brave,” he praises your skills. You lay down on the couch, shaking from the throbbing ache. 

“I don’t feel very brave…”

**************

5 Months Later, Arkham Asylum

The buzz lets you know the 6th gate for Level 1 Clarence is opened and you can pass towards you final destination: the highest security area inside the Arkham Asylum reserved for the most dangerous criminally insane.

“Here she is,” the guard points at the one of the screens depicting Y/N searching the space in front of her with the cane. “Punctual as always,” he tries to joke with Bruce Wayne.

“I know,” he flatly responds. “I’m the one that brings her here.”

The head of security gives the guard a disapproving gaze and the subaltern shuts it down, pretending not to notice the sour expression on his boss’s face.

The four men present watch the monitors in silence while a geared up staff helps you enter the interrogation room where The Joker already awaits, tight up in his straightjacket and chained up to the floor. You take a sit across from his chair, the white table separating the two people being the only object standing out in the padded room.

The Clown intensely stares at the table and you blankly glare at him; that’s how every visit goes: 10 minutes every week on Wednesdays, perfect quietness since he didn’t articulate a single word after he was captured 5 months ago.

The Arkham Asylum patients are not allowed to have visitors, yet Bruce Wayne and his lawyers found a loophole that allows Y/N to briefly visit The King of Gotham once every seven days. That’s all they were able to obtain without going to court and it was fine with you: it’s better than nothing so you didn’t argue.

The Joker has the right to refuse the visit but he never does: he shows up for the short meetings, not talking nor looking your way. Who knows what’s going on in his brain besides the obvious insanity?...

“I admire her courage,” the head of security addresses Commissar Gordon since he’s the fourth person there. “Even if I don’t get it: why would she want to be around a crazy psychopath? He tried to murder her!”

Jim scratches his chin, sharing a theory him and Bruce talked about:

“He didn’t aim to kill, otherwise he would have cut her throat or stabbed her in the head. I suppose that in his twisted mind he sees Y/N as a worthy adversary because I’m sure he didn’t expect a blind woman to give him so much trouble. We’ve been trying to catch him for a long time and we finally succeeded thanks to her agreeing to be the bait. When we approached Y/N with the idea, we knew he might target her after he saved her from the kidnappers. There’s no way The Joker would do something like that without a purpose. We discretely guarded her 24/7 and made sure to stay out of sight in order not to arise any suspicions since he was watching for sure. He’s not stupid: he planned his scheme carefully and maybe we had sheer luck with the whole operation. Who knows?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” the guard gestures at the screen. “I think he said something!”

“Holy crap!” Gordon blurs out. “Rewind and turn up the volume!”

The camera feed is replayed for the small group watching the short conversation that just took place.

“Can I help you?” The Joker’s husky tone is discerned.

“No,” the indifferent Y/N instantly replies.

“I’ll be damned!” the guard opens his mouth in amazement. “He talked to her!”

The monitor reverts to live broadcast and everyone holds their breath when you get up from your chair and J protests:

“Your 10 minutes aren’t up yet!”

You’re still standing and he wiggles in his straightjacket, uncomfortable.

“I have this strand of hair tickling my cheek; drives me nuts. Would you fix my locks? I can’t do it myself since I’m in a little bit of predicament for the moment.”

They watch you walk around the table and searching around with your hands while the madman grins, actually guiding you.

“Two more steps to your left. Now one more straight forwards. Another one. Jackpot!” he purrs when your fingers search for the strand of green hair you cannot see, but it’s not that hard to find.

“Alert the wards to intervene!” the head of security orders but Gordon has a different opinion:

“No, let her do it if she wants to.”

You caress his hair a few times, turning around to go back to your chair.

“Thank you sugar,” J sarcastically offers fake gratitude. “I truly don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Yes, you’re fortunate The Angel of Gotham took pity on you and got rid of that horrible itch.”

The Joker can’t hold in a disturbing laugh since he finds your statement entertaining by his quirky standards.

“I’m honored. Hey... hey, come back here: I have another itch you can scratch!”

You get ready to criticize his remark and he’s aware.

“It’s my collar bone, sugar! I’m not a perv, don’t get worked up for nothing!” The Clown pretends to get angry at your assumption.

You return by his side and bury your fingers in his jacket, gently scratching the soft skin.

“That’s moooore like it,” he purrs louder, the satisfying groan making you retract your arm. “Ahhh, so nice of you to help a friend in need,” the entitled silver smile dies out on his lips once you interrupt:

“We’re not friends!”

“Of course we are,” he sneers. “I stabbed you: that’s how I seal the deal.”

Gordon furrows his eyebrows, totally captivated by the chat.

“What is she doing?...” he asks as a rhetorical question and Bruce enlightens everyone anyway:

“Playing his game…”

Back in the padded room you stump back to your spot and grab your cane, preparing to bail.  

“Are you gonna come see me again?” The Joker curiously demands to know.

“No.”

“Why not?”

You huff and he cackles, entertained:

“That’s fine, I’ll survive: just like you survived the Wayne Bank terrorist attack and the basement I dug you out of.”

It’s so hard not to fight his venomous barking.

But you keep it together and the custodian opens the door, a weary Y/N emerging from her weekly visit with The Joker yelling and squirming behind her, enraged he cannot escape confinement:

“Who dug you out, huh? Who dug you out? Was it The Batman? The police? Or me?”

He’s becoming more and more agitated, the chief of security pressing a button that opens a sealed exit to The Joker’s left.

“Sedate him,” he commands the six caretakers rushing in while The Clown keeps screaming:

“Get back here!! That’s an order!!” and your disobedience prompts another tantrum as they inject him with the sleep medicine: “Who do you think you are, hm?” he shouts so loud it finally triggers a reaction from your part; you slowly spin towards him, making sure to articulate the perfect words:

“I’m the one that got away.”

 Part 1: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/185672114796/the-joker-x-reader-the-one-that-got-away-part-1

Also read: MASTERLIST

diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on AO3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: Diyunho.

[gboxventspace]

I see life as an endless series of sprints, one after the other, with little to no breaks in between. I know better, rationally; everyone talks about how life is a marathon, how you have to train and pace yourself, and my brain recognizes that. But in reality, I just... forget? It always feels so pressing at that moment, so immediate, I get tunnel vision and all I can see is that moment and the ones immediately following. This one year of school. This one quarter's class. This one assignment. It applies to more than school of course, but those are easy examples to use. It feels like everything rides on that one thing; I have no concept of longevity, no concept of a time when it stops mattering. Its everything, right then and there, every time, and either I sink or swim.

The thing is, when it's too much, when I sink, I can never be sure of the consequences. "'Do what you like', says God, 'and pay for it.'" But what is the payment? When will it come? So often, if I just ignore a problem hard enough, it just... goes away. Something else takes care of it, or it stops being important. There are plenty of times where that isn't the case; more often than not it just piles up, growing worse and worse, until I finally have to deal with it. But juuuuuust often enough, my avoidance pays off. Just enough that it gives me the choice, every single time I'm facing something intimidating, to try and let it go. It's so tempting. And even when things end up piling up, often I can get help dealing with it, though I would rather crumble than ask for it, because I know it's my own doing.

I guess that's what it means to be spoiled. To rely on others to do the hard things for you, and often, it works. No wonder I flail and cry and break when faced with something I feel I can't do; it often pays off. I get help, I get sympathy. Is that what I am, then..? A spoilt crybaby who can't do things for herself? Did my "safe space" enable me to stay helpless?

Part of me wants the rug to be ripped out from under me, just to get it over with. Right now, it feels like I'm on a rollercoaster, but clinging to the bar and tensing up my body to minimize movement, trying to remain in control. That's what I do on roller coasters. I spend the whole time clinging to safety, to control, reminding myself that it's just a ride, it'll be over soon. It's very rare that I let go; yet when I do, I enjoy it so much more. When I stop trying to be in control, stop clinging desperately and trust that it'll be fine, I actually have fun. Here I am in life, clinging desperately to my safeties, to my ties of being cared for and secure. Slowly but surely, these things unravel, or crumble, and I'm helpless to do much more than cling and cry and dread when the next thing will snap. But what if I jumped?

So many people don't get the choice. They're tossed down early on, know intimately what's at the bottom of that pit, and how to handle it. They get stronger for it, more capable for it. Is that what I need to do? Just let go? But what would that even *look* like, in reality? Moving out? Doing charity work in a third world country? Living on the streets for a while? I don't know. Its black and white to me, all or nothing, I have no concept of an in between, of a space where I'm stepping past my comfort zone without taking a nosedive. I know that it's an option, rationally. That it's what I need to figure out, my eventual goal. But how? Where? When?

I'm tired of sprinting. Of swimming, of clinging, of all these convoluted analogies I'm apparently so fond of. Life will never be easy, and that's not a bad thing necessarily, except that my heart hasn't caught up to that yet. It doesn't understand. It sees absolutes, good and bad and right and wrong and pain and comfort, no middle ground. When will I learn? (When will I learn that mY ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES?!!!??!!!?!)

....actually, that's applicable. I know my actions have consequences, but they're unreliable ones, unsteady ones, uncertain ones. There are invisible lines everywhere that I must be vigilant to never cross... Or am I supposed to? What then? I don't know. I'm tired of being tired, and scared, and weak.

My new therapist ripped me a new one today, if you can't tell. It was my second session with her; I spent 45 minutes of it jittery and anxious and babbling about all of this stuff, how I have no self discipline and hate it. She spent the last few minutes basically telling me that I wasn't making any sense, she couldn't work with me when I was like that, and that sometimes you just have to *do it*. Just do it. (Do I even need to expand on that? Why is this post full of memes? Maybe because I've been thinking about this all day now, and I'm not hurting so much as just thinking. And meming.)

The point is, ((dolphins)) that I have some growing to do, and I know it. That the work I need to do is inward, and I'm more than likely making it so much of a bigger deal than I need to be. But it is what it is, and I need to deal with it. Need to learn to suck it up, grit my teeth, do it whether I want to or not. Even if a part of me crumbles inside, cries in pain and would honestly rather cease to exist, I need to learn to let her scream in the background while I do it anyway. I just hate that I have to keep learning this, over and over and over...

2-18-20 9:28 pm

[thepenisparker]

Mob!College!Tom Holland AU - Part One.

teaser ✵ part 1 ✵ part 2 ✵ part 3 ✵  part 4 ✵ to be continued...

summary: Tom Holland is quick and in a hurry to prove himself to his family business, so when his final mission before his dad hands him the torch is to protect some college girl by any means necessary. It should be easy. Right?

words: 2769

Summer was finally over, and if 15-year-old you had heard you say such a thing surely you would've stabbed yourself. But the end of summer meant all your friends would come back. People would refill the small college you wanted to go back to. Home wasn't the same when you came back from college, right when you started to get used to it, you got thrown back home where most of your friends you didn't talk to anymore or just plain didn't have many to begin with.

Kingston University was your home now, it was a private, selective and put students in cohorts that would then be categorized by their major. Yourself, you considered yourself a writer. But you weren't exactly keen on getting an English degree and went for a communications degree. Don't ask why, it was flexible. Going into your second year excited you, getting out of the house again and away from the toxicity at home.

"Welcome back!" you heard leadership teams yell with signs and covered in school spirit, truly it looked like your mascot threw up on them. What was funny was you knew some of them, and their school spirit wasn't as high as they led on. Remembering when the guy in the cut up school t-shirt took a piss on the statue in front of the junior housing.

You drove your car to a parking space in your new sophomore housing. You didn't really have any friends in your cohort, so you were nervous about meeting who would be your randomized roommate. Instead, you had friends who were all creatives with film and performing arts majors. You found them rather quickly, they had a tendency to be quite loud and outgoing.

"(Y/N)!" You were attacked with a hug walking out of the parking lot and into sophomore housing court. It was your one of 2 of your very best friends you gained in school, she was apart of the performing arts cohort with majoring in commercial music and all, Annika.

"Hey, babe." You hugged her back, excited to see her after so long.

"Where are you staying? Do you know yet?" She asked, "Sarah isn't here yet, but we're living on the bottom floor, so you better be above us. Then we know who to kill if there's too much noise."

"I don't know yet, where do I go?" You asked, she pointed over to a table with a long line, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder. She had the most incredible big blue eyes that seemed to have flecks of green in them. She also had just recently gotten her nose pierced, which really suited her face.

"How was your summer?" Annika asked you, waiting patiently with you.

"Long, did a lot of working at the pub. I think I saved up enough money to get me through a day of school." You joked.

"I feel you, dude." Annika laughed, "Have you tried for any scholarships?"

"Every single one they'll let me apply for. I got emails back on 2 of them for next semester. This semester I'm getting only a quarter paid for though. It's looking like my graduation will just be me celebrating my life of debt." You said, rubbing the back of your neck with how far in it you are.

You continued to talk about Annika’s trip to Ecuador, where she did some charity and life-changing work with a group of friends. She invited you to it, and you wanted to go if it wasn't so expensive. You were used to not having that kind of money now, your family was always well off but now that you went against everything they believed in you don't have that source anymore. The home you came from made you grow up really quickly, this was just the last thing you had to take on.

"Next!" You heard a voice come from next to you, and you stepped up to the table quickly.

"Hi!"  You happily looked up to see one of your upperclassmen friends sitting there, Sav.

"Hey! How was your summer?" They asked you,

"Long, lots of work." You sighed, having just telling Annika the same.

"That's good you're working though! Getting that cash." They smiled, looking over their list, "And I know exactly where you're staying, I'm your RA!"

"No way!" You squealed, reaching over to hug them.

"Yeah, here is your key. Room 209, and our floor meeting is tonight in the lounge at 10 PM. Don't be late." Sav said, handing you your key.

"Thank you, do you know who my roommate is?" You asked.

"It says, Victoria Reinhart?" Sav told you, tentatively, "I'm sorry I haven't met her."

"All good, thanks Sav. I'll see you later!"

"See you!"

"Well?" Annika urged, seeing you approach her with your key.

"Room 209?" You offered and she frowned.

"136." Annika said, "But I think Tony and Jacob are in 109, at least I think that's what they said."

"Oh, great." You rolled your eyes, knowing full well how loud those two were going to be.

"Speaking of—" Annika started but was cut off by the yells of two boys, so covered in school colored paint they were practically unrecognizable. They were yelling for you, and then suddenly you were thrown over their shoulder as they ran across the quad with you.

"Hey!" You pounded on their backs, scared of what they had planned, "Guys hold on! Put me down!"

“Okay.” The one on the left said and you recognized him as your friend Jacob. Typical.

Then you found yourself being dropped into the fountain on campus. It wasn’t particularly deep, but you were definitely soaked, with one of the spouts falling onto your head when you sat up.

“Are you okay?” You heard a voice, overall the laughter and heard the splashing of feet. You got yourself up out of the torture of the water pouring on your head to open your eyes to a boy who voluntarily got into the water. The bottoms of his jeans now soaked from coming in. His hand outstretched to you, and his face soft with big brown eyes and the cutest bunch of curls falling over his forehead.

“Yeah.” You replied simply and quietly, you didn’t take his hand though. Following him out of the fountain as people whispered, wondering who the boy nobody had seen before rejoining a friend of his with aloof blue eyes on the side of the fountain. The boy with the blue eyes wasn’t happy with your friend in the fountain at all.

You lost him in the crowd, being overwhelmed by your spirited friends laughing and offering you a towel after their prank.

"You guys are dead." You splashed the boys who waited aside from the fountain.

"We told you last semester, you were just waiting to be dunked!" Tony laughed, you groaned remembering their jokes.

"Give me some kind of warning!" You said, holding the towel around your shoulders and wringing out your shirt. You kept looking around, admittedly searching for your brown eyed attempted savior.

"You're no fun." Jacob laughed, "Hey, come to our housewarming party tonight! Room 109, we're inviting the whole building."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"Not if the RA's are down to party too." He laughed, "And they are, let me clear that up—they are."

"Yeah, well since I'm your upstairs neighbor I might as well." You rolled your eyes.

"That's what I like to hear! And (Y/N), if you have any hot friends—please—I beg you—bring them." Tony added, putting his hands together in prayer.

"I'll make sure to bring Annika and Sarah." You laughed. Tony mouthed a thank you.

"I hate them." Annika rolled her eyes, rubbing your shoulders.

"Annika, did you know that guy?" You asked.

"That guy who got into the fountain? No, I've never seen him before." Annika said, "Whoever he was he was hot though. I hope he's at Jacob and Tony's party."

"Yeah, me too." You said, looking around then finally landing on Annika in front of you, "Now, give me a hug?"

"Stop!"

✵

Later as you started bringing your things in, leaving your door propped open, you watched and waited for your roommate to make an arrival. Your room was quite nice, a front living space and kitchen attached, with a short back hall that had a bathroom on the left and on the right would be your shared bedroom. It was going to take a lot of getting used to and moving stuff in. You needed to get some furniture for the living space if Victoria didn't bring any.

You had already changed into dry clothes, but your hair was still damp. You decided you'd leave it like that until you would go over to Annika and Sarah's to get ready for tonight. You sat in your kitchen, fixing up a decoration on the wall.  

You heard a door slam and a key fumble before you saw a familiar flop of brown hair walk past your doorway. You ran to the doorframe, not really thinking through your actions. Your curiosity pulling you closer. But if your first year of college taught you anything, it was not to wait for people to make friends with you.

"Hey!" You called, catching him just a few feet away. He turned around and the longer you looked at him, the more attractive he became. He had a bag slid across his chest, clinging his t-shirt to his body.

"Hey." He said back to you.

"A-are we neighbors?" You looked to where he must've just come from.

"Looks like it." He said, shortly and patting his thigh.

"I'm (Y/N), I just wanted to introduce myself." You extended a hand, and he took it, "I swear I don't always get pushed into fountains. They mean well."

"Tom." He said back, "I don't know why pushing you in a fountain would be meaning well, but hey that's all you."

"Yeah," You continued, feeling wary of his judgemental tone, "anyways, thank you for down there. That was very sweet of you."

"Your welcome." He said, making a thin line with his lips and turning them up at the corners. His eyes looking over your face.

"Uh, there's like an all building party tonight that my friends are hosting. Apparently, all the R.A's are in on it, don't ask. But you and your friend are welcome to come."

"Thanks, I'll pass on the message." He said, nodding and then started backing up. You smiled, backing up too.

"Ok, cool." You shied away, giving an awkward wave before stepping back into your room. You shut your door after that. That was enough awkward interactions for the rest of the year. You put your hands over your eyes and decided to turn up your music until your roommate would hopefully arrive.

Hey, Sav! Is it possible I can get my roommate's phone number? Just curious as to when she's coming.

Delivered 5:07 PM

You texted Sav. Then waited, and waited. They were probably busy, it was move-in day after all. Maybe Victoria asked to come a day late? You decided not to dwell on it for too long. You unpacked all your clothes into what you assumed would be your side of the closet. Grabbing out something you could wear for tonight.

Your friends were all a lot more riskay than you were, always able to find themselves dates for the night from how beautiful they always looked. You could if you wanted to maybe, and the occasional flirt here and there was sweet. But you had never gone home with someone. Tonight, that wasn't going to change. In high school, that's who you were, and had no judgment toward one night stands. But that wasn't what you wanted to do anymore, limiting yourself. You just wanted to get a little tipsy, socialize, and get back to your room and watch Netflix until you fell asleep.

But that didn't mean you couldn't look good. You grabbed one of your favorite heather gray knitted halter tops, with a pair of high waisted black skinny jeans, and a matching suede black jacket over your shoulders in case it got chilly outside, which usually it did. Grabbing your hair products and makeup, you left your room, praying you wouldn't run into Tom or his roommate, running to find room 136.

They had left the door open, and your reunion with your curly haired friend Sarah was a joyous one. Hugging each other, then her grabbing your sides at how attractive you looked in your outfit. You thanked her, before sitting on their new couch.

"How's the move-in been?" Sarah asked, sitting across from you with her own makeup mirror.

"It's been fine, my roommate hasn't come yet though." You frowned, "Oh, and Annika!"

"Huh?" Annika answered from the back bedroom.

"Guess who my neighbor is?"

"Is it the hot guy from English last semester?" She asked, half thinking.

"No.." You dragged out your answer, "It's the new hot guy."

"Shut up!"

"What hot guy?" Sarah perked up at the sound of a hot guy.

"Did Annika tell you about how Jacob and Tony finally threw me into a fountain?" You asked and Sarah's face scrunched up in confusion.

"What do you mean finally? But yeah."

"Long story, but there was a guy who came into the pond all cute and offered me a hand up." You said, "I think he's a transfer, he's my neighbor."

"Oo I wanna see him." Sarah said, "Are you gonna go after him?"

"I don't know-" You started,

"If you won't, I will!" Annika called.

"I just said I don't know cuz he acted kinda weird in the hall. Like sorta rude, I don't know. I invited him and his friend to the party but I don't know if they'll come. I'm telling you, something was off."

"Something being off means nothing as long as the dick’s good," Annika said, finally revealing her outfit, which consisted of: a black bralette, fishnets, high waisted distressed and cut up jean shorts, red thigh high boots and a jean jacket to finish.

"You look so hot, I guess you'll probably find out faster than I will." You smiled at your friend.

"Let's hope, I'm trying to celebrate the new year." She stuck her tongue between her teeth and went to a mirror in their hall to put her hair up.

"(Y/N), are you gonna try and find someone tonight?" Sarah asked.

"I doubt it." You rolled your eyes, "If a guy comes up to me that isn't trying to get to you guys or that one of you didn't put him up to it, then maybe. But that's never happened so let's not hold our breath. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone thought I was lesbian, and I'm okay with keeping it that way."

"Whatever you say, just know if you wanted to, any guy would be happy to have you. Trust us." Sarah said, getting up for her setting spray.

"Whatever, my lesbian ass is getting us a pizza though. Last time I drank without eating first I threw up on the hot guy from English last semester. And that's not happening again."

✵

You ran up to your room, wanting to throw your stuff in there before it was locked in Annika and Sarah's room for the upcoming day. Cautiously walking in wanting to see if your roommate had gotten there, you shut the door behind you, only hearing the party starting below you. There was no one else in there, just that you could hear Jacob and Tony excited to be finally able to host their own parties.

But you also could hear something else. You didn't realize how thin these walls were going to be. There was a bit of yelling next door, you heard muffles bits.

"That's none of our business!" You heard an unfamiliar voice and couldn't help yourself putting your ear to the wall. It was coming from Tom's room, "You know that's not what we're here for!"

"We're here to protect her..." there was something else but you couldn't hear it. Protect who?

"From afar! We're not supposed to get involved." You heard the other voice again, it was stern and close like he was sitting in a chair right on the other side of the wall.

"... my dad trusted us with this. I know what I'm talking about, promise."

"Fine, we'll go. But just watching. I don't want this to get fucked up, Tom. This is a big deal for us. I'm just trying to look out for you." You heard the close voice again. And felt more confused, and guilty for listening. Who the fuck were these guys?

Thank you guys so much for reading! please pass it on, and tell me what you thought by reblogging, liking or sending me a message!

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@sighparker @tomhollanduniverse @brokensimpson

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[hollywoodfamerp]

To My Famers,

Hello, hello! I’m the last one of the admins to make their appreciation post - and honestly - thank god - because I’ve been working on this post every day and had to stop because I’d start crying and become a total mess haha I was going to make one on Seb, but I figured you’d all understand why I didn’t after I made this post on the main. So basically, this is my warning to you guys because I’m gonna get all in my feels just like Drake. Sit back and relax because I’m letting you know now that it’s going to be a long one haha

All right, so let’s take it back to day 1. Like many of you, I had terrible experiences in the roleplay community - everything from being godmodded during my very first plot to being bullied for having different opinions - you name it, I (unfortunately) went through it. At one point, I kind of just... had enough. My anxiety and depression were at an all-time high and I realized no one should make me feel that way, because quite frankly - if my parents didn’t talk down to me, then no one should talk down to me. It wasn’t until one specific experience that I texted Admin B and was like ‘hey - I think it’s time we opened our own roleplay’... And we did. In 2 days we came up with a name, put together a theme, wrote out our logistics for the group and started up Hollywood Fame RP. We agreed on a few standards for our group - to ALWAYS be kind to our members, to respect everyone, and to create a safe environment for people to explore their creative writing. We just wanted people to know we were different, we wanted everyone to know that before we were admins of a group - we were your friend. And that’s something we still say to this very day.

Never - in my wildest dreams - did I expect this roleplay to go the lengths that it has. I’m still blown away by all the accomplishments we’ve achieved. I’m not saying we haven’t had our moments of doubts or confusion, but we never gave up. And that’s something I need to thank my admin team for. Without them - this roleplay wouldn’t continue to be the force we are. They keep this place floating and I just want to say thank you to all of you. Alex, Nicki, Shannon, Grace, Mickey and Lottie - I’m forever endowed to you. I don’t think I could handle being an admin without you all by my side. You guys keep me sane and teach me new things. You make me view things in ways I never thought was possible and I know you have the roleplay’s best interest at heart. And I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better team. I say it all the time, but you guys are the real MVP’s. And to the admins who have left, I appreciate you all as well. Your help hasn’t gone unnoticed and I’m lucky that I got to work with all of you. You’ve all left your little stamp on this roleplay - never forget that <3 To my admin team now - I can’t rave about you enough. I really can’t. Just know I’m grateful for everything you do - every day - and I’m just happy that I get to call you all my friends. Thank you for dealing with me when I get all worked up and blow up your IMs/texts/kiks/instagrams/snapchats haha But know I’m obsessed with y’all and I can’t live without you guys.

Now - to our members. Oh my goodness gracious. There aren’t enough words or ways for me to express how grateful I am for all of you. YOU guys make this roleplay what it is. This group would be NOTHING without you guys. This place, the vibes, just... everything... it’s because of you. Sometimes I just sit back and watch the dash roll through and read what you guys come up with - and I’m always so blown away. You all teach me new ways to roleplay, inspire me to come up with different/unique plots, push me to be a better writer, and just make me a better person. I see how much effort you guys put into your FC’s and I swear it leaves me in awe. You all embody your characters in a way that cannot be topped and it’s why I will always and forever rave about every single one of you. From the first day we got a member in this group I’ve said that we had the best members in the world, and I will always say it. I’ll never forget the date auction - when I saw how everyone dove into that event, I knew I needed to donate to the actual charity we were rping for. YOU guys made that donation happen. I wouldn’t be here without you all, that’s for sure.

I just want to say this - I’ve read all your appreciation posts that you tagged the main in (and myself), and I cried. Thank you for your kind words and kind hearts. Sometimes, all people need to hear is that they’re loved. And I want you all to know that I love every single one of you. Never let anyone bring you down. Never be afraid to speak up for yourselves. Always stand by your beliefs. Do things that scare you and conquer your fears. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. Be different, be strange, and let your quirks out because I promise you - whatever makes you different makes you stand out. And I will forever appreciate and love you all. If you ever need a friend, I’m here for you. Thank you all for everything - for being my friend, for being my support, for showing me that the rp community is capable of loving one another, for helping me be a better person, for always being understanding of our decisions, for backing me up, for being the best of the best and for being my second family. If you read this entire post - thanks for that too because I know I rambled and probably bored you out of your mind haha 

I’ve been here since day 1 and I never left this group because I believe in what we’ve all created together. We did this. We are Hollywood Fame.

Love you all forever,

Admin A (Riley)

[thatyorkshireguy-blog]

It’s About To Get Chile

My apologies for the graphic photo that i’ve chosen to lead with here, but it just about sums up the emotions of the last 12 months and what i’ve put my body and mind through just to achieve what was required! To keep on going! 

For my first blog post I’m going to have to hang my ‘Yorkshire plums’ out a little and bear my soul to you. So apologies, but it’s going to one of some length (giggedy) for me to be able to give you a full idea of my story and who this blog is aimed at. 

My name is Liam Grady and i’m a 35 year old marketing and communications specialist. 

I am a born and bred Yorkshire man.... Doncaster in South Yorkshire to be precise. 

Here’s the big one........ in less that 3 weeks time, I will be moving my entire life to Chile, South America. 

Why? But of course people....I move for love... for a beautiful chilean woman called, Fran Díaz Abeleida.

(Here’s the night we first met in London)

I met Fran in September 2017 when I was working down in London for just three days. Turns out Fran was on the last two days of her trip around Europe and making her way back home to Chile.  What were the chances we would be stopping just one street away from each other in England’s capital during that time? Crazy to think about! 

Well after two incredible evenings with this lady, I headed 170 miles via car back up north (The land of Yorkshire Puddings and more friendly folk) and Fran headed 7500 miles via a plane back to South America, not knowing if we were ever going to see each other again. 

The face that you actually see in the one above with Fran was taken at a time when my life may have been at my weakest, from a mental health point of view. During this stage of my life I wasn’t happy with who I was as a person and I’d hidden that fact through the bottle and party lifestyle for many years.  I always loved the people in my life and loved the ‘job’ that I did as a communicator......I was just missing something in my life. I didn’t respect myself - I will elude to what contributed to this downfall further down the story. 

As dramatic as this sounds, just a few days after meeting Fran, I could have killed myself or someone else as not for the first time id stupidly drink drove my vehicle. The ‘straw that broke the camels back’ as they say, was when I nearly crashed my car into my house mates car, and my own house. I felt so lost and I didn’t know what the problem was to be able to fix it. 

After some very harsh but ‘said with love’ words from a few friends, I decided to take an even more dramatic step and actually fight to survive....and this very much ended up being in the literal sense. I’d been training in martial arts over the years, on and off, very much off... more than on! 

However i found emotional and physical comfort whilst I was training at a place called Charles Martin Martial Arts for a charity fight in 2016. It helped me very much, and it was a team mate that turned to me and said I should fight properly this time.

I thought this person was crazy, as anyone will tell you who is in the fight game, that preparing....even for an amateur fight in K1, Muay Thai, Boxing or MMA is one of the hardest things you will do in your life. You have to change everything.

In November 2017 my life changed.....

For two months I started to train three times a week and i’d told my coaches of my issues and where I wanted to be and how much I wanted to change. I knew this was going to be difficult but I had no choice. I needed this. 

At the same time I’d been talking to Fran over text and voice calls for a few weeks but i’d started to feel like it could be a bad focus of my attention or that there maybe no point in this communication, because how could we ever see each other. 

I remember ‘THE PHONE CALL’ with Fran. I told her that I was concerned nothing would happen, or how could it even happen for a while given the circumstances.  It was Fran’s turn to motivate and inspire me, as she was absolutely gutted that I didn’t think ‘the relationship’ would go anywhere and she proceeded to at first be very upset... but then the next 15 mins turned into one of the most beautiful talks i’d ever had. 

I couldn’t believe this beautiful South American was willing to take a risk on me and at least try to make something work between us. 

At this moment I stopped being a ‘wimp’ (not the best word but one I described myself as at that point) and I really started to fight.

Fran then took a huge step and booked a flight to see me in February for a two week break. I couldn’t believe it. But I still didn’t feel like I was anywhere near good enough or right for this woman. I also needed to dedicate my energy to this person as she lived so far away and to stop me from being tempted with other life distractions that made me hate myself in the first place.

So the training went from 3 days to training between 5-8 times a week. I was dedicated and so focussed and proceeded to change much in my life. My energy levels towards work improved and my whole outlook and positivity started to raise to places id never even been. I was actually starting to like to the person I was turning into. 

February 2018 was approaching fast and both myself and Fran were very anxious, scared and excited about seeing each other. Although we had spoken pretty much every single day since we met each other, we hadn’t seen each other for over 6 months and we had only met each other twice in person!  Yet again, this seems a little crazy doesn’t it. 

That day came when Fran took another 7000 mile trip. I will never ever forget she arrived on that train and looked at me. Our eyes both welled up and I knew at that moment I was already dreading the point of her leaving. We had the most incredible two weeks together. 

Doncaster isn’t the most beautiful of locations in the U.K (according to most) but during Fran’s trip we had some of the worst snowfall in recent times and it added something so magical to the two weeks. 

Awesome hey? 

Fran left during the first week in March and although devastated I just knew I wanted to be with her so badly but I also.... I knew realistically I might not be able to see her for some months to allow me to save up enough money to make the trip happen. 

April 2018 had arrived and so had my first fight. Everything I had worked hard for was here...my moment ... everything was set up beautifully. My opponent was over 15 years younger and was coming fresh from a victory.  What happened next I wasn’t expecting....

During that 1st round of my first fight I was absolutely rubbish and my opponent battered my for the first 2 minutes. I wondered what the hell I’d done. But one thing in life I had discovered is that I always had a big heart and it would take a lot for me to actually give up.  I might not have had the skills my opponent possessed but my mind and heart had become that of a warrior. 

Although physically shattered just after the first round, I came out the second like a totally different guy. I ended up winning that second round landing a good sweep and a good right hand which had my opponent rocked back. It was however too little too late and over the fight my opponent won a well deserved decision. That first fight taught me so much. 

After the fight was over I felt an emptiness inside and over the course of the next few weeks I could feel myself slipping back into my weak points because I didn’t have training or my beautiful Chilean with me.  It wasn’t long before I quickly realised that I needed to be with Fran ASAP!...but in her country and not in mine. I needed a change of everything. I just had no money to get there. 

My job that I was in at the time only paid me enough to cover my bills, just get by each month and it didn’t give me the mental or physical freedom to use my skill set to its full potential. 

In order to get me to Fran I know I needed to do two things, change something with my work life and go back to training straight away with the view to fight again. 

During June and July I did everything I could to improve my life. Work hard during the day in my normal office role (Communications Director), train hard for two hours every day straight after work and then any spare time I had would be dedicated to helping others with their social media/marketing - FOR FREE!!!! I wanted to pay my time forward with the hope that deep down something would come back to me. 

This is exactly what happen...

At the start of July, i’d produced a document on social media for one of the business members at a co-working studio called ‘Helm’. From that one document caused a ripple of actions. 

I’d received a call from the founder of Helm, a good friend and contact, Liam Swift. He asked whether i’d like to do a presentation on social media at the next ‘Doncaster Digital’ event, which takes place at the Helm studio every month. 

I agreed and put together a presentation that was true to myself and something that could help many businesses understand more about their social media channels. This event turned out to be one of the best attended Doncaster Digital events with over 40 different businesses attending my talk. 

(Here’s me giving the talk on that night at the studio and one quite happy straight after - I am the one jumping higher than the rest as you can see!) 

So I was told it went very well indeed. 

Actually....my phone would not stop with texts and calls of support that night. At around 11.00pm, Liam Swift dropped me a text message to say that there was a couple of people in the room who were watching very closely and that I may get a text in the morning from a business regarding help they required. 

The following morning I received a text message from the founder of football coaching brand, Mini Kicks. He wanted to meet me to discuss a potential opportunity about working with them and them helping me on my mission to get to Chile. This had me very intrigued.

I received that text message at 9.30am and by 12.00pm I was having lunch with the Mini Kicks founder. 

By 12.45pm I had received a job offer that again was a turning point in my life and by 2.30pm ....i’d handed in my notice and effectively quit my other job that day.

The offer at that time was just too good to refuse. It was only a short term solution but it allowed me to achieve what I needed to straight away and give me the freedom to build up a personal brand before I left for Chile. 

It is the first time, hand on heart that I have ever......ever shed tears of pure joy and emotion.  I phoned up Fran, burst out crying and just said....”I can come to Chile”. I just couldn’t believe this opportunity had happened! 

If truth be told I wanted to just fly there and then but I couldn’t leave the country until I had done a few things. The first was fight again and that came last month in October, and the second was to be a best man at one of my closest friends weddings. This happened last weekend. 

My life was finally coming together but I was still having to manage money and effectively start my own business and go solo again. 

Fran even came to see me again in September for a few days which although she became very unwell during her time here - literally as she landed, it was a chance to show her what a person I could be in times of illness. It was just great to be with her! 

How much can one person try and achieve in just a short space of time?

Ok, so now it was fight time once again! I’d trained so hard for this next fight, physically and mentally took me to places I hadn’t been, but due to a bad injury suffered in August I wasn’t able to do any sparring. Which was bad news for me because in October I fought an absolute beast of a guy.  I also had to come down to 70kg which I was 77kg when I started this journey the November before.  

Again fight day came, and with my closest friends and family there to watch, it once again seemed that everything was set up to go out with a bang and leave as a hero.  

We were ready...and I had unfinished business. 

From the first bell I wanted to show that i’d improved...and I had. I was calmer, better on my fight...just better all round. However i’d been matched up once again with a very powerful and skilled guy.  He caught me with an uppercut that badly broke my nose and for 10 seconds he knocked the sh*t out of me....and he went for the KO.  On shakey legs, I managed to quickly back off and then out of nowhere I landed a right of my own which then rocked my opponent. The commentators were going mad.  Another moment i’ll not forget.   

In fairness my opponent took the first round just on the better shots landed but we both exchanged some great punches and kicks which made it a great fight.

Then came a defining moment which I believe my friend and one of my corner men, James Hartley, put better on Facebook - which i’ll share with you now (Again another read, but it’s hard for yourself to put into emotions).

James’s (gent in the lovely shirt haha) word’s really capture what I went through on this journey of self discovery, on a journey of doing what I had to do to be a better person not just for Fran, but mostly for myself. I’ve had a crazy 12-18 months! 

If I didn’t love myself, how could I ever allow myself to fully love someone else or allow them to fully love me. 

To just bring it back to why I was in the mental state I was at the start of this story.....

Over 8 years ago, I ended up losing my best friend in a car crash and my dad through cancer, within 6 months of each other and all I did was pack all that pain up and pretend like it didn’t matter. Hiding tough times through drink and a party lifestyle, which was absolutely bullshit and I allowed that to start destroying myself from the inside out.  Up until I met Fran and my love for martial arts, I just never knew how to love properly....and thanks to both of those things, I now can.  I am so excited about life and in less than three weeks I will be flying to Santiago, Chile, to be with my lady.  

My mission is to make her happy, save lots of street dogs and help other people, whether that be in business or just in life. 

I wanted to share this story because it gives you an idea of if you truly want something, if you’re truly willing to improve yourself and get to where you need to be in life, it becomes fight or flight and you have to fight for what you want.....you have to!  And I did and will continue to do so.  Don’t hide grief and pain, and do lean on people for support, they give you the strength when you least expect it. 

Although this is quite a personal post, I want the people and brands that I will be working with moving forward to know the type of person that they are working with and I truly hope it helps people discover that they can achieve anything they want. 

Oh, I ticked of the best man duties as well....that was last weekend and it was one of the best days of my life, and a memory that will stay with me forever. 

So cheers to you U.K. Leaving my country, my life and especially my friends will be the hardest thing i have ever had to do, maybe even harder than my fight journey. But it is easiest the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.

Thank you so much to my friends and family who have supported me along the way.  A huge thank you to the people at Helm and at Mini Kicks.

One of the biggest thank you’s has to go to my coaches and team mates at Charles Martin Martial Arts, I don’t think they truly realise what an impact they have had on my life and how much it truly as changed.

Of course the biggest one goes to my girlfriend, my partner and the reason I am moving country...... Fran. You inspire me to be better for both you and for myself. I can’t wait to see you in three weeks time. 

And Chile....I am coming for you! 

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I know it was long (giggedy) but I am grateful for your time. 

Forever humble...

Liam Grady

That Yorkshire Guy. 

Please share this with anyone who might find this helpful and please follow me on Facebook and Instagram - just follow ‘THAT YORKSHIRE GUY’  - I will be sharing my entire journey via Instagram and I am hoping to collaborate with some amazing brands on this journey. Please get in touch on my IG page or lgrady83@gmail.com. I will get onto this more on my next post. 

[basic-banshee]

large black coffee (part 2)

A Carry On Coffeeshop - AU/ College - AU inspired by this beautiful art.

Word Count: 1964

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

“I don’t want to look at the cup. If it just says “Baz” I think I might absolutely lose it. This is our thing. I don’t know what I’ll do if we lose our thing.”

Simon

“Simon, he’s here!” Penny bursts into the alley behind the cafe where I’m trying to take my break. “He’s here!”

I knew she knew what I was talking about.

“So? He’s here everyday,” I say, echoing her words back to her. I’m in an absolutely shit mood, because I stayed up late last night to do my presentation, only to get to class this morning and realise that it actually is due on Monday, like I thought. I turned around to glare at him, and I swear to God I saw him smirk.

“He has a friend with him,” she says, her eyes wide. “You absolutely will not believe this.” She’s hiding something from me, I know it, but I’m on my feet already. Only because I’m curious what kind of person would be friends with a ten foot-tall asshole. I trail Penny back inside, but I don’t want to go to the register. I’m still on my break anyway, and I’m absolutely not going to waste my well deserved break on serving that shithead.

He’s there alright, same time as everyday (seriously, who is that punctual?) leaning against the counter while he talks to someone. I can’t see who they are because he’s too damn tall, but it looks like it might be a girl. Blimey, does Baz have a girlfriend?

He doesn’t even turn when Penny steps up to the counter, and it looks like they’re going to just keep ignoring her until the girl glances around him and sees me. Oh, shit.

“Hi Simon!” Agatha chirps, stepping out from beside Baz. She looks beautiful. I mean, she always does, that’s pretty much her main defining characteristic, which would be pretty shallow of me to say if it weren’t true. Everything about her is beautiful, from the way she speaks to the way she looks. I think her thoughts are even beautiful, probably. Not that I know many of them. She didn’t talk to me that much when we dated.

But more importantly, why the hell is she talking to Baz?

“Hey Aggie,” I say cautiously. I smile at her — because really, she’s the first person I met here, and she’s still my friend, I’m not going to freeze her out — but I go back to pretending to stack cups while Penny takes their orders.

Baz gets his cavity-inducing mocha again, I notice, and I scrawl his insult and order on the cup next to me as he pays Penny for his drink. He’s always perfectly nice when he talks to her. And he’s being pretty fucking friendly to Aggie right now, so I guess it’s just me he’s a dick to. Brilliant.

I try to eavesdrop a bit as I make their drinks, and it sounds like they’re talking about a club. Are they in an extracurricular together? Then Aggie mentions horses and I realise she doesn’t mean a university club, she means a posh rich person club. That explains it then. I’ve always figured Baz is posh — he’s got to be, with his tailored clothes and stupid names — and Aggie is probably the richest person I know. All rich people knowing each other just sort of makes sense.

“Please? This isn’t the kind of thing someone goes to by themselves. It would mean a lot to me,” Aggie says. I stiffen a bit. Is she asking him out? Or are they already dating? Not that I care. We broke up two years ago, and it was absolutely the right idea. We’re just friends now, and honestly I like it better because being friends with Agatha is a hell of a lot less stressful than dating her.

But she can’t be dating Baz.

I mean, his name is basically Tyrannosaurus. He looks like a vampire, but like, a fit Egyptian-looking one. Not that vampires can’t be Egyptian. I think that’s what he is. I don’t really know. But yeah. He can’t be her type. Because of the vampire thing. Not the Egyptian thing. That’s actually a pretty good look on him.

“I’ll consider it,” Baz says stiffly. He looks a bit uncomfortable. I guess he’s not into Aggie. How mental is that? How can anyone not be into Aggie?

“Baz, have you met him? He’s adorable,” Agatha laughs. I pause before putting the syrup in Baz’s mocha. Wait. Does Agatha have a new boyfriend? Is that who they’re talking about?

“He’s not my type. I don’t like men with dark hair.”

What?

“Come on, Baz. When was the last time you were on a date?”

Baz is silent, and I can only see his back but I’m fairly sure he’s flaying Agatha alive with his eyes. His shoulders are hunched in an evisceration sort of way.

“If you’re not interested in him, I can name at least five others. There’s loads of good men on this campus. You just need to put yourself out there more,” Aggie says.

Baz

I’d like to skin Wellbelove.

I didn’t intend to come in with her for a chat, but she caught me when I was walking down campus, and she can be obnoxiously persistent when she puts her mind to it. I was going to shake her off when we got to the cafe. And then I remembered what Snow had said yesterday — “He comes in, always alone” — and I thought I’d further disrupt his world view, and invited Agatha to join me.

I immediately regret it.

When she started putting the press on me to bring a date to her mother’s ridiculous charity event I figured I could shut her down again, but I’ve forgotten that there’s no real way to constrain Agatha, and so here she is, dressing me down about finding a bloke in the middle of the cafe while Snow is clearly eavesdropping.

I hear a crash and turn around to see the remains of my mocha splashed all over the counter and dripping off of a bright red Snow. I want to kill her.

“Are you incompetent?” I snarl at him. It’s a bad insult. It’s not remotely well thought out, but I’m embarrassed and I’m not on the top of my game. I know Wellbelove didn’t mean to out me, and I’m not embarrassed about who I am, but I desperately wish she hadn’t. But I can’t blame her. She has no idea that I’ve been obsessing over this fucking barista for a year.

I used to absolutely hate him. He sat in the back of my Statistics class and was constantly talking and was always late, and I honestly don’t even know what he was doing in the class. He was so far out of his depth.

Then one day after class I stopped into this stupid cafe, even though I usually avoid the places on campus because they’re shit, and realised that Simon fucking Snow, the boy who was ruining my attention in Statistics, was the barista here, of course. Walking him through my order was more difficult than watching him try to use a calculator. When I went to pick up my coffee (he did actually make it correctly, I was a bit surprised) it looked like he had written “Bastard” in his awful chicken scratch font.

“Is this a joke?” I snarled at him. His mouth fell open and he stared at me in surprise.

“What?” he had said stupidly. It’s his default response. He says it to everything. “Snow, are you present?” “What?” “Today we have a test.” “What?” “You’re a fucking moron.” “What?”

I showed him my cup.

“Does ‘Baz’ really sound like ‘Bastard’ to you, you complete halfwit?” I snarled back at him. I watched the flush creep up his neck and he looked like he was going to go off on me right then, and the sudden rise of his anger was absolutely delightful.

“If I wanted to call you a bastard, I’d say it to your face,” he shot back through gritted teeth. It was not his best comeback.

“Work on your handwriting, this looks like a child wrote it,” I said, and then stormed out. I told myself I wouldn’t go back there again, even if the coffee was perfect, and I didn’t. For about two weeks. I was late to work and it was raining and I needed coffee. So I snarled my way through my order, grabbed the cup from his hands, and was almost to work before I noticed the neat, blocky, red letters on the side that read “Baztard.”

I was hooked. (Because I’m deranged.) (Ask anyone.)

And now he’s standing there, covered in my mocha, gaping at me like I’m a tall, gorgeous, gay freak.

Simon

I don’t know why I spilled the coffee. I get a bit clumsy when I’m focusing on things, and I was admittedly focusing pretty intently on Baz and Aggie’s conversation, and then my hand just sort of jerked, and now I’m wearing this revolting drink.

I don’t even know what he just hissed at me, I’m so embarrassed that my blood is roaring in my ears and I can’t really hear anything else, but I can see his face and I know he’s being a complete shithead to me.

So what if he’s gay? He’s still a shithead. You can be gay and a shithead. I grab a fresh cup, and that’s what I write out. I’d just put “git” on the last one, because I didn’t want Aggie to see me write anything too nasty, but I’ll put “shithead” on this one because I think it’s got a better ring to it.

I hesitate for a second though. Should I still call him a shithead? Will it seem like I’m just being an ass because I just found out he’s gay? But I’m not. I’m not being an ass. This is just our thing.

And I don’t want him to think I’m treating him any differently because I know. That would be kind of a shit move. So shithead it is. I write it carefully. (I always write carefully on his cups.) (He’s such a dick about handwriting.)

I place his drink on the counter without meeting his eyes and then head quickly to the back to clean up. I’m sticky and I smell like pumpkin.

Baz

He puts the cup down and then practically runs away. He doesn’t stay long enough for me to see what’s written on it.

This is my favourite part, when I look at what pathetic insult he’s chosen and then I sneer and insult it. He wrote something on the cup when I first ordered, I saw it. But then he spilled it, after Agatha outed me, and now I’m scared to see what he wrote when he remade the drink.

I don’t think he’ll think badly of me now. He’s too nice for that. I know he’s a nice guy. He’s a good guy. I’ve see him on campus. He smiles and talks to everyone. He’s that person who helps total strangers carry heavy things. If someone drops something, he chases them down and returns it. Now that he knows, he’s so fucking nice, he probably won’t insult me.

I don’t want to look at the cup. If it just says “Baz” I think I might lose it. This is our thing. I don’t know what I’ll do if we lose our thing.

The cup is just sitting there, staring at me. This is ridiculous. I’m a grown man. It’s a fucking coffee cup. I pick it up hesitantly and turn it, slowly, so I can see what he scrawled on it.

Shithead.

I can feel myself grinning, I can’t even help it. I’ve never been so happy to be a shithead.

[dahmer]

oh pi! at es. ples. ples.

Oh! just, subtle, and mighty opium! that to the hearts of poor and rich alike, for the wounds that will never heal, and for 'the pangs that tempt the spirit to rebel,' bringest an assuaging balm; eloquent opium! that with thy potent rhetoric stealest away the purposes of wrath; and to the guilty man, for one night givest back the hopes of his youth, and hands washed pure of blood.... qtd // thomas de Quincey // Confessions of an English Opium Eater

here’s a man, once ill-tempered of turks and trendsetting vices, speaking to the grand stage of the world fashioned in this season’s epide-mock. a warm, fuzzy coatish wear nestled in the covers. small american towns know these styles too well to count body bags, along cotton pads and china scabs, among mother’s basements and luxury high risers graduating all from the fancy-feels certificate of blues. those roxy pebbles, how they start us so--an endless invitation to long summer warmth that childhood bathtubs and lawn-mower sundays would once bring.

when did the foil side decision set in. was there truly a technique to not waste the evaporated smoke, or just somedaze endless-ego-talk of the mighty soldiers in the opium army of guilt. shame, yes sir! solute to toot, scrap the straw edges as the hours pass waiting for the guy with the goods. were you in california when fent came along, past the liquid patch of time-released days. the recents 16s, 17s, two thousands eighteens. labs grade, synthesizing variations to parade as china. “east coast man, east coast shit. it’s the best ever. no, nah nah bro, i got you. bud took one point, was on his ass for hours. nod on fire.”

did chemists know the china rhetoric will turn fent-for-all. markets of east coast fantasies, oblivious to west coast privileges. of potency. of people. of starry nights in smashing pumpkin music video dreams, riding through hollywood as a secret member of the powder variety. it’s a plague paraded as a epidemic because that word has no world of meaning to the good folk playing their igno-rent; recycling stigmas of junky choice rattling thrillists. despite the proof inside the bottles. the truth in every bottle. in every cabinet. of every person. with every doctor. who ever felt. the normalcy sensation of one of the most blanked words: pain.

pain is surely what that just, subtle, and mighty opium! creates in the hearts of the poor and rich alike. the rich die often in the experimentation state of emergency someone labeled as ‘the opioid problem’--problem? oh lily, you know as much as your wilted leaves and neighboring trees the silly stamp we slap when using ‘problem’ to critically deconstruct something magnificently complex.this ‘problem’ has destroyed empires for centuries. it’s notorious and makes no attempt to conceal its power in narrative recollections of the living  authors that have spoke the truths of humanity across language, land, and lives. yet big pharma pulled off opana and roxicodone in the last 20 years. if there’s any declaration of the fools ruling the castle in modern times, this must be the great exemplary act. the profit of pain, oh yawn. i’m sure the academic discourse that has capture this best is brilliant it construction and nature, but what difference does it make in an opiated masses?

i’ve not canceled my subscriptions to the periodical dual tragedies of the early 21st century, as they remain unchanged and unchallenged: (1) a sheer lack of empathy in the common man; (2) the curious and devastating complacency and lack of outrage to what seems to unfold before our eyes, rapidly and carelessly so now that it’s almost as if those navigating the unseen lines of powers that be mock us, appropriately so. if we’re no opiated, we’re not outrage or active either. generalization? yes. but for those who fall outside of this, fight causes that continually reveal themselves as premeditated chess pieces in the political playing field that has seep into dominating the social sphere that delivers use a constantly-running facet of media and targeted, privatized ads.

i am an addict.

i can clean. M knows. some family knows. the weight that has been lifted is ineffably enduring. i’m frustrated, naturally, at the golden years missed. the creativity, the goodness of my heart, kindness of soul, charity, intellectual ability, sincerity, and passionate interests. how they dulled and disappeared. the weight of their reappearance should be the least of my worries, and for now have been. i’m only a week into my methadone treatment program. but my partner knows now. and that was the missing link, that was needed for so long. he left. i stay in the apartment alone. had the worst week. four days into starting treatment, i get arrested on a fix-it ticket that never was completely closed in a difference country because the DMV didn’t inform the courthouse I’ve squared everything away. I was given a new court date to bring this documentation in myself after final payments were made and the matter seemed settled. but the letter was sent to my old apartment, so i was completely unaware a warrant in los angeles was issued. a few short blocks away from my new apartment in newport beach, where M returned for the first time since walking in on me and learning of the addiction that exposure so much (that was the most bittersweet, hard, important, thankful, and devastating night of my life--but revitalizing. I never realize how much everything rested on just M being told or finding out.). I’m almost home, about to see it, sirens go on. get pulled over. second car arrives. i’m in cuffs. call my works, and text M to say I wouldn’t be coming home to give him space.

at this point, i was told i would be transferred to LA that night, and see a judge in the morning. have everything taken care of. but orange county SA jail is notorious for lies and abuse. there was no intentions of this, and i went from holding cell to orange jumpsuit soon enough. smart this time, i disclosed my sexuality. was given a special block, with an actual two-person jail cell. like the movies. my cell mate was great. jason ciega. curious sexuality. talked heavily about girlfriends, but made subtle jokes that went: “when you’re expecting pussy, but life gives ya dick... but hey, there’s nothing wrong with that too.” He vaguely mentioned his sexuality was “whatever”--I respected and explained why I identify as queer. i have some hidden white china fent mix left i snuck in, even after the cavity search. I stressed needing the bathroom for diarrhea, in fear of the 4-6 gram rocks being found. they kept stressing if i had drugs, it would be another charge. but with my profession work title, they didn’t really consider that with me. i hated that i had to use again so early in treatment, but this avoided the sickness. and made me sleep through the day and a half before M bailed me out. when i got celled up with jason, he shared his rations he bought, like cookies and stuff. i shared my china, in very small doses. he still O.D.’d. turned blue and purple, unconscious, eyes behind head. he took off his shirt after sniffing the first baby bit. i snorted probably 30x what he did, and barely felt something, tolerance. his speck had him worried after 5 mins. “I don’t feel it”

I tell him it wait another 5-10 mins at least. he starts ripping up my mattress and sheet to make a pillow and bedsheet. at first i’m scared this would cause the jail keeper to punish or abuse me. i saw it happened. beds are supposed to be returned in the form they were given. but the special blocks for “protective custody” and queers were treated with more respect, out of fear I assume. The regular jail area is a massive shared space with dozens of rows of beds, and people organized and grouped by race and gangs that you must join right away. I was glad I didn’t have to endure that. I did briefly at 19 for an alcohol in public ticket. only spent 4-6 hours in actual jail-orange-suits area after 10-15 hours of hold cells then. realized how racially divided even jails were. but this experience was more pleasant, given the circumstances. before jason began nodding out, he was fun and talkative in an enjoyable well. he revealed a great chest and body--small frame, but bulky build with tattoos. an insecure boy turn nice guy that acts like one of the guys. referenced odd jokes that seemed code for him being a bottom, and wanting sexual companionship if we ended up bunking for awhile. mutual only, of course. i laughed these attempts off. jason was lonely, and i wasn’t there for inmate sex. i’m in love with M, and still spent every moment worrying and texting about him, and what i’ve done to him. how little he knows about this addiction, how much his family might enable him to think narrowly or ignorantly about the realities of this as a disease.

M abandoned me the day I began treated, 2 mornings after he caught me and everything in our lives froze. we sat on the bed that night, side by side, for hours. him crying in his hands mostly, for hours. me frozen in a wave of emotions. i was a fault. i was honest and told him everything. this was the only thing i kept from him, and told him why. the shame, the guilt. the fear. losing him. rejection of me, disposal of my efforts and love from him and his family. he said we needed time apart. i begged him to be there for me, no matter what the outcome was of our relationship, at least in the beginning. knowing this is the most crucial time to have a support system. he expressed things like believing I’ve just been high this whole time, and asked questions that extracted as much shame and guilt as possible. he had every right to. it’s all i’ve see him and his twin ever do. to the point of their older brother needing serious psychological helping, crying out literally shouting how suicidal he is, but they fail to understand how mental health works, how humor and jokes are masks that should be taken seriously. M was hurt most that I lied. I did lie. Not directly, but did lie at times when he asked why i was in the bathroom for so long. It was unspoken, so it didn’t feel like lying. More like protecting, but it was lying. And I will forever be in the wrong.

Going to jail may have ruined any chance of him coming back. And I can’t stand that thought. He doesn’t know what I’ve been going through. How long it took to be honest about my addiction, what steps I took to try to get clean on my own, the lies you convince yourself off--that you can do it alone, that it’ll work out, that you’ll run out of money so you’ll have to stop. My only other treatment attempt told me I must tell M. He’s the closest to me that I love and trust, who is a good influence, not a user, and could be my support system that sees me through this, and can monitor me during the first 3-7 days that are most crucial. M mentioned how he could have come home to find me dead. O.D. we watched docs and podcasts on the epidemic, but they don’t go into how hard this experience is. How withdrawal is considered one of the hardest things a human can possible do in life, and takes incredible amounts of courage, strength, and dedication that M will probably never even experience in his life. The reports just assume people know this stuff. And under-represent who is most likely to O.D. I’ve never come close. I haven’t been high in, years. I used to stay normal. M, and others like him--those who don’t know--don’t understand that. I was never chasing the dragon. I hate the addiction, quickly. I was too smart for it. Too focused and dedicated to have this problem.

But I did, and unless I dose a certain amount, I couldn’t function. Bedridden in the worst sickness imaginable. To those who’ve experience withdrawal, it’s not just the constant, non-stop, extreme physical sickness. It’s the relentless psychological sickness. Torture. That doesn’t even given you a 30 second break. Hearing that your sick for 3-5 days might sound easy because we call it “getting sick” or “dope sick”--but it’s a far worse experience that can even be fatal for some. My finances and lack of wanting to be doped out, nodding and unproductive all day luckily allowed my addiction to plateau at taking a certain amount to stay well, and doing that everyday for over a year. Til I was caught. It would slightly increase, but fluctuate, based on product, potency, and source going around. I never shot. Only snorted, that was my ritual. And when I was stupid, I would smoke. It was a waste, that burned through product much faster. Which meant more money and time dedicated to staying well. The consistent tolerance and dosing makes my chances of O.D’ing incredibly low. If M knew me as an addiction, which he couldn’t--I never disclosed--he’d know this was hell. Torture. Something I spent endless nights up all night wishing, hoping, begging for change. 

The fright came from the Friday I got into a detox treatment program. I told him two nights before I needed him for supported. He made a sly remark about “what, you’re going to force me to stay around or you’ll OD and die if I don’t”--but it was among other things, so it was unclear what would happened. And days past, with little words exchanged, but M stayed around. When he returned from work, I was in bed and he has if I stayed treatment. I said yes, but didn’t explain or speak confidently out of fear of him not knowing what these treatments were, how much research I’ve done, how I picked this on purpose with a goal to get off treatment drugs soon too and never be dependent on a substance. He didn’t ask much questions. He shortly said it’s good, then revealed he’s packing up and staying at this parents for the weekend. I froze in silence. He packed and said some of the same narrowed perspective claims from the other night--how my sibling and her spouse are there to help me. M thinks because they’ve both been in AA, and one is an ex-heroin addict in healthy, long-term recovery that they can just drop their full time college, 3 jobs, and toddler to take care of me. They’re wonderful support systems, but the detox clinic described who needs to be around the first 3 days for my outpatient detox, and it perfectly defined M. 

But I must respect M’s decisions, feelings, angry, and pain. He has his own healing to do. All I said was that I need support more now than ever, so please don’t forget me. This was in response to him saying I could always call him if I needed something--which was worded in a way that read like ‘call in emergencies, but I’m out.’ So I went through it alone, all 3 days. In bed. I called a friend for xanax, even though you have to be very very careful taking both. I was, and needed to sleep if no one would be there to check on me. At this time, I thought either M felt his hurt and pain outweighed what I was going through, and that’s understandable regardless of my experience actually being a life-threatening disorder. What I wish he knew was that most people who O.D.--the ones on the news all the time. It’s most from relapse. Stopping, detoxing, getting clean. Then a trigger happens, or hope gives up, opportunity comes, or you feel alone and no one cares. Whatever the reason, you return to the drug and take a similar dose, or even smaller dose, than what you were doing before. But your tolerance fades as quickly as it builds, and is different for everything. So most O.D. deaths are simply from people relapsing and taking too much without knowing where their new tolerance stands. Any temptation or relapse could be my last breathe.

I still live in that fear, but I’m motivated and happy to finally get clean. It’s all I wanted, I just couldn’t do it alone. And knew this. The summer realized it most. I spent the summer trying to find the right time and opportunity to tell M. He has no idea how many plans and times and moments I wanted to. Even my trip to NYC. I wanted t come back clean so bad. It doesn’t work that way, You need those in your life who support and love you to help. That’s what a relationship is. It’s like if I was diagnosed with cancer. But social misconception and outdated conception allows this opposite, toxic reaction. Where now I exist in this constant mental cycle that centers on figuring out what to do for M. It would hurt my sister, so that would be my biggest regret, but I think M wants a gift from me more than anything; however, knowing him well, he’d never ask. If I just gave it to him, he’d be free. No more doubts or embarrassments or beating himself up about not knowing or what others would think. No more hating and shaming me. He wouldn’t ever have to deal with it, which is what I realize he wants in life. Where we disagree. I can’t play video games and ignore maintaining healthy efforts all day. He’s made great improvements, but blind to others that allowed him to say hurtful things like without even consciousness of it, but would be shocked and hurt if someone said the same back to him. This created a state where if anything that required him to get up from playing video games in his ‘free time’ (non work hours) is a drag that he resents or avoids at all costs. It cost the friendships built between my closest friends, who love him and he claimed to love them. This constant thread was something I battled with most. I would count the weekends I would spend doing whatever he wanted--hanging with siblings, friends, work functions, friends parties. 11 weekends go by, then one movie night with my friends and he wouldn’t even pretend to want to go. It hurt, but I learned other people’s needs are an annoyance or deterrent to his rightful ability to be glued to the computer. I know this was a big factor in never bringing up my addiction. Already he hated any serious conversations, even if I tried to make them positive about reaching goals. Even mentioning one would cause eye rolls and audible disgusts, vocalizing how he just doesn’t like them or “aren’t good at them”--which never made sense to me. I understand he didn’t like to have conversations that implied he’s less than perfect or right, but it creates this wall around you where no one will ever be able to grow or talk or really improvement your or our lives together. I didn’t think much of it. But now that I’m learning my triggers, I’m not blaming M. It will always be me. But I regret starting to pick up his habits in attempts to try and connect more with him, and be closer. I started playing video games more and more, and all my interests disappeared. There was never a time I played video games that didn’t require going to the bathroom and dosing. I couldn’t live that life. But I wanted to build a life with M. When he stopped talking an interests in sharing my activities, I doubled down with his. But things that felt non-productive and antisocial to me became triggers.

There are other issues that caused distance and perhaps his lack of interest or investment in my friends and desires. One, my addiction. Where my interests began to dull. A terrible cycle that grows like a fungus, and can stem from one activity to get closer, but affect another. Also, I gained a considerable amount of weight. This was before my addiction started, but at a time that M became less physical. Then associated it with my weight gain. This was always curious. All compliments, words of encouragement, positive reinforcement, or sexual intimacy ceased, yet I was expected to work harder on health. I should have, but I never went a period of my sexual life where exercise and health were part of my routine because it continued my ability to have a sexual life. In a serious relationship, taking this element away makes it hard to understand how or if anything would restore such intimacy sense there’s no expression, communication, or honesty from M. Just gestures and small hints. He experienced some weight gained, and when he finally got a job after college--after 8 months of playing video games all day as I worked 2-3 jobs 6 days a week plus went to the gym, cleaned the house, and made dinner most nights for him and our roommate--he took up the gym and has done a great job focusing on getting in shape. I expressed this once, and it was something that was some important and meaningful because it consumed by consciousness, but I still wonder a year later if he understood or truly took to heart pointing out that when he got a full time, professional job and began working out after work, he came home daily needing positive reinforcement, acknowledgement, and encouragement about his gym efforts. Even in the early stages when not much can be seen.

I expressed that before grad school, when I really gained the weight from the stress and demands, I too signed up for the gym after my first, full time professional job after college. On top of this, I continued working on Sundays at a restaurant doing back-breaking labor I underplayed because tips were good. My one day off--Saturdays--I spent putting our first apartment together, shopping, planning, going to every family event or friend invite he extended, while keeping up with cooking and cleaning. During this time, M never acknowledged my gym efforts, progress, or work. I think once he complimented me in a tank, but apart from that, I believe he saw that this was just my role. Expected and easy, like it was nothing to essentially try my best to be the best version of myself, be the best boyfriend I could be, build a relationship together, and not ask for anything in return. This felt like my nature, so I didn’t think much of it at the time.

It wasn’t until I started grad school, and he began what I had already gone through: entry level at first professional job. I don’t know why I’m writing about it now, but it hurt he was doing it in a way that made it seem I had no idea what this was like because of my current shape, and my support was expected, not appreciated. M has never been too expressive, but any acknowledgement or encouragement while attending Gold’s gym after work each day in DTLB would have done so much for my self-esteem, our intimacy, his care and support, or just mutual respect I guess when the tables turned later. I still continue to compliment and support. But the thought is always there. What is it about me and what I do, the effort I put in, that seems just expected. Demanded. Not a privilege or sign of care, affection, and love. But “do your damn job”--but then anyone who does the same or a fraction of the same things has the right to guilt or shame me in not being supportive or caring enough. Why do I just exist to replace the role of M’s parents, perhaps, but my efforts aren’t even acknowledged to the same degree in how M views what his parents do. 

The shortcomings are what he’s most expressive about. Like I have a savings account like him, and just not paying  for things I literally cannot. I didn’t have my parents pay for college, a car, half my rent, bills, and little things in life M takes for granted. I pay for everything. And even having one or two things taken care of by parents allow young adults to live remarkably more comfortable lives that they’re blind to. They don’t understand the luxury of saving every paycheck because their parents pay for everything else. Or maybe it’s me, and my fault for having interests, and occasionally spending money on exploring interests to acculturate my life. Understanding myself, people, and culture better. Be a strong global citizen,

I don’t know. A lot of these claims are unfair to M. He avoids serious conversations, but most of this has come up. It’s just been treated with silence. When he caught my addiction last week, he kept repeating how hurt he was that I lied about it. He’s right, but I couldn’t shake the feeling... when would I ever been able to tell you and you wouldn’t act this way? Was there a time limit when you would have been supportive? Where you would have stayed and ensured I didn’t die during the most crucial period? Would there ever been a time that you didn’t just dismiss it as all my fault, so shame and guilt are the only things I’ll get from him while I need to seek treatment options on my own. That’s not how treatment works. In everything I’ve read, it says the same thing. This is a family problem. You need support. Loved ones. Care. Compassionate. Understanding. If these were never things that would have been offered, why is the main drive of pain from me lying? I did lie, so that’s valid. But it hurts because I don’t know how he truly feels, and sometimes it just goes through my head that this is the reason he’s been waiting for. I haven’t lied or cheated or hid other things. I’ve talked to other guys online, but came clean when caught. And that did hurt trust between us. But I never lied or hid something when we talked about it.

I write all of this because last night he texted me asking to meeting up this weekend to talk. I get excited because it means, after a week, maybe he wants to just sit and ask questions or express anger or frustrations or what’s on his mind. I send him my availability all weekend, with details. He takes hours to respond, but around 2am he says he’s free Saturday and Sunday. This is Friday night, and I see he’s at someone’s house--probably a party--that I didn’t know of. So maybe he’s drunk, but oddly he responded to my availability with just saying he’s free Sat and Sun--not setting a day or time to meet and talk. I don’t respond. It’s late and he says he’s out with friends since I mentioned I was even free that night back when I responded at 9pm when he first asked if I was free to meet and talk this weekend.

Today the morning goes by and I don’t hear from him, but he sent the last text. S at Noon I ask: “do you want me to pick a date and time then?” No answer.

A couple hours later I tell him I’m going to the gym later, and an NA meeting the next day (Sunday) if he wants to join me at either of those for an alternative meet up option--hopefully implying if he doesn’t want to just chat face-to-face, we can do something healthy that shows him I’m working hard in recovery. No response.

Both texts show read receipts. He read that right away, and Find My Friends shows he’s still just at his parents house. Been there all day, but ignoring my texts. Perhaps he was drunk when he texted me Friday night saying he wanted to meet up. I ran with it too quickly then because I miss him like crazy, worry about it, and just think about him and this situation constantly. Plus he bailed me out of jail for $5K of his own money this week on top of all of this, and that’s the last I saw him. 

As the day progresses, it starts to dawn on me. Most of his stuff is still at our apartment. We still live here in how it’s set up, and how he’s briefly used it this week. But he’s mostly stayed at his parents, which is understandable since he needs time to figure out how to make sense of this or what to think... which is how I believe he worded it when he left the day I started detox. I think he said “because he feels conflicted.”

But if his stuff is still here, and he knows my schedule, and I know his, he knows we’re both mostly free Saturdays and Sundays. So he could come home either day and sit down to talk when he sees I’m home, Granted, he hasn’t asked about how recovery or detox is going, or shown interest in caring about how I’m doing. He’s not there, and clearly I’m in a state where I agree in the sense that I worry about him most. He doesn’t express his feelings, and this is not something he can just avoid or pretend to go away. He needs to face it. But then I realize what “we need to meet up and talk” means in a relationship after a major issue happens, and one person moves out for a week, leaving the status open-ended, stating we need time apart, and then gets stuck paying $5k while trying to distance (on top of all the money I own him for rent and impound fees last summer). This talk usually means one thing, and I start to panic. Even more so because he’s dodging my texts to follow up about setting a meeting time and date. If M had the liquid courage to ask, but not is faced with following through sober, it would be like him to just ignore me. And he’s definitely ignoring me. Maybe because he just wants me to suffer or leave him alone. But my fear and anxiety has skyrocketed since last night. I’m consumed in fear with the idea that he’s wanting to meet up to end our relationship. I would understand why, but I realize, despite everything, I really really am in love with Michael. My addiction made me not a great boyfriend to look at or be around I’m sure, but I’m confident the person I’m returning to now that I’m free and in recovery is someone that he would benefit from growing with. Many also have expressed they think  this process will help M in the long run too, as things became static and this may needed to happen to reevaluate things and take us to the new heights we wanted and deserve.

M would have a hard time standing up for himself and dumping me, so when I was asking him if I should set the date and time, I starting thinking.. am I actually having to plan getting dumped for him? That’s not fair. This is the most emotional fragile state I’ve ever been in, and although he has every right to make that decision, and reasons to back it up, and not care about actually exercising real support that couples give each other, that’s fine. I would have to just respect the decision. I fucked up. And I knew who M was before we started dating. I just always think.. is he going to find someone else who doesn’t care about wanting basic needs and emotions and thoughts exchanged, shared, and supporting in a relationship? Abandon me, but that wouldn’t make these issues go away. Anyways, no one around him can offer me insight to his state of mind. So I fear the most devastating and hurtful decision and experience of my life is around the corner. Maybe even tomorrow. And despite our lease tomorrow until April, and the life we built together, M may just walk away from it all. Claiming he can’t trust me anymore as the main reason. And that trust is solely from hiding my addiction. Something I see now, given his reaction, why I did. 

Jonathon Van Ness, in a recent podcast “Getting Curious” with an addiction specialist at UCLA discusses shame in addiction, and defines it as this idea where “if you knew this one thing about me, you wouldn’t love me anymore.” This definition makes a lot of sense, as to why I could never tell M. If he knew, I would lose his love. And his love was holding me together, and giving me hope that someday I can fix this, overcome this, get help, get better, get fit, be the best version of myself again and beyond.

But now I just wait by my phone, wondering if I should send a 3rd text. The last one was around 3pm, when my day was freeing up for the rest of the weekend. So he could have arranged to meet at any time. Maybe inviting him to the gym or a meeting was too off-putting--like i WANTED that or something. But I just want to give options since just asking for a basic plan yielded no results. I don’t know if I should leave him alone. If he needs more time. If I push, I push him farther away. Or if ignoring makes me feel insecure and think I don’t care or think about him. That I just think about using again or getting clean, and he’s not longer important. This is farthest from the truth. All I want is to not fall asleep alone in bed anymore. I want M back by my side, cuddling me and us to sleep. But even then, I fear or believe that M doesn’t feel he can do that and feel safe or comfortable anymore, even though I think he wants this again too. But the trust that’s missing is something that will come in time. Through my actions. Through my recovery. And if only he were here to hold me, he would understand that my recovery means everything. Not for him, for me. But I am his, so a better me is a better him. I just want him to know he’s loved and cared for. I don’t want him to feel alone, upset, and sad. I want him to ask questions, even yell, shame, guilt. Do what he needs to do. Isolating himself alone in his room at his parents house is not going to help him heal, with or without me.

And for some reason, as I heal, I need to know who I affected most is healing. Because the truth is: I can’t stop thinking about killing myself since this happened. Not because I want to, but because I think it’s the one thing that would end his healing process, and make his life better. Even if it meant I would lose mine. So be it.

[dustenough]

what was your last

1. drink - water

2. phone call - my mother

3. text message - “ok just phone me whenever x”

4. song you listened to - why won’t you love me by 5 seconds of summer

have you ever

6. dated someone twice - no i haven’t even dated anyone once

7. kissed someone and regretted it - no

8. been cheated on - if when your best friend calls someone else their best friend is cheating then yes

9. lost someone special - yes

10. been depressed - i’ve been clinically depressed for five years and counting

11. gotten drunk and thrown up - almost

fave colours

12. fave colour - yellow

13. fave colour - burgundy 

14. fave colour - baby blue (and any other light/pastel colour)

in the last year have you

15. made new friends - yes, i met @soundshoodfeelshood​ last year and it was the best recent friendship that i’ve made i appreciate and love her a lot and it feels like i’ve known her forever

16. fallen out of love - no

17. laughed until you cried - yes, the most recent was when i was watching bottom with my parents

18. found out someone was talking about you - yes

19. met someone who changed you - i don’t think so

20. found out who your friends are - yes, i’m still finding out

21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list - no

general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl - all of them

23. do you have any pets - i have a cat named harry he’s 16 now, i used to have another cat named hermione who passed away last year at 15. i also used to have a hamster named pumpkin, three chickens named jessie, lilo and buttercup and fishes. my family also fostered a dog for few days who we named lola

24. do you want to change your name - no, i really like my surname too and don’t want to change it so if i ever get married i’ll probably still keep it baha.

25. what did you do for your last birthday - i spent the day at home with my family and my friends in the evening

26. what time did you wake up today - 8:30am

27. what were you doing at midnight last night - watching loey lane’s most recent ghost adventure on youtube

28. what is something you can't wait for - a miracle, no mental health issues, to know what i’m doing with my life and what career i want, for my parents to sell our house and finally move into their dream house on the coast and for me to be accepting of myself

30. what are you listening to right now - explore by sundara karma

31. have you ever talked to a person named tom - i don’t think so but i’ve spoken to people i never knew the name of so maybe i have talked to someone named tom

32. something that's getting on your nerves - eveything tbh i get irritated really easily i don’t want to write a list otherwise i won’t stop

33. most visited website - twitter or instagram??

34. hair colour - brown

35. long or short hair - my hair is in the middle; its quite long but not really long and sometimes my hair is super curly so that makes it significantly shorter

36. do you have a crush on someone - no but i’ve been thinking about this one boy for almost four days straight now lol help me

37. what do you like about yourself - literally nothing

38. want any piercings -  i’ve wanted a nose ring for a really long time, i also want an orbital ear ring and a rook ear piercing with a heart shaped ring

39. blood type - i have no idea

40. nicknames - lillian and lily-pad. my english teacher used to call me lilith which means the mother of all evil which is lovely

41. relationship status - um i never went to oovoo javer

42. zodiac sign - my birthday is on 20th january which is the end of capricorn but the start of aquarius, every website and book says something different so i don’t know

43. pronouns - she/her

44. fave tv show - i don’t really watch tv shows but i have a list of ones i want to start watching. i grew up watching miranda so i’ll always love that. i also really like stranger things and i’ve watched a lot of episodes of friends and only fools and horses with my family which i enjoy

45. tattoos - i have an idea of a tattoo that i want, i like really small and delicate ones that are meaningful

46. right or left handed - i’m right handed

47. ever had surgery - no but my wisdom teeth are almost fully grown and i’m scared to get them removed

48. piercings - i think some of them are nice but i can’t stand some of them, i don’t like gauges and for some reason studs in the flat ares of the helix in the actual ear make me cringe

49. sport - i used to do a lot of sports including: dance, gymnastics, netball, basketball, and swimming but stopped during secondary school; i also used to go running with my father and sister and do annual charity runs. i want to get back into dance again since i really enjoyed it and loved performing at the theatre and start running again.

50. vacation - i’ve only ever been abroad to paris when i’ve been to disney land with my family since we go to cornwall every year and have been for as long as i can remember. (this is the first year we’re not going because we can’t afford it lol)

51. ?

more general

52. eating - i just ate some grapes

53. drinking - tea

54. about to watch - probably a random youtube video

55. waiting for - a miracle of some sort

56. want - myself and my family to be happy, content and healthy

56. get married - i need to find a significant other first which is already a huge and almost impossible task alone

58. career - anytime someone asks me this i’m on the verge of tears i’m literally begging for someone to choose out of a hat for me at this point

which is better

59. hugs or kisses - hugs are nice. ( never been kissed is a 1999 romantic comedy film and stars drew barrymore a-)

60. lips or eyes - eyes

61. shorter or taller - taller

62. older or younger - older

63. nice arms or stomach - arms

64. hookup or relationships - relationships

65. troublemaker or hesitant - troublemaker

have you ever

66. kissed a stranger - no

67. drank hard liquor - yes

68. turned someone down - yes

69. sex on first date - no wtf

70. broken someone's heart - i don’t think so

71. had your heart broken - no

72. been arrested - no

73. cried when someone died - yes

74. fallen for a friend/ as in crush?- yes

do you believe in

75. yourself - not at all but i wish i did

76. miracles - i dont know?? if it counts i think that everything happens for a reason

77. love at first sight - maybe?? like true love?? i think that exists because of my parents

78. santa claus - i believed him for too long

79. angels - no one is an angel

misc

80. eye colour - dark blue on the outside then light blue then green then like an olive?? i just say blue

81. best friends name - chloe (and my school friends of course)

82. favourite movie - i like a lot of films i don’t think i have a favourite, at least i can’t pick one just now so i’ll just say any disney film

83. favourite actor - i don’t know, any films which tom hanks and robin willims act or voice over are always great, they’re great

84. favourite cartoon - the cartoons that i watched when i was younger from the 80′s/90′s cartoons like bear in the big blue house (the songs are still on my family ipod) to the ones on disney cinemagic before i left for school (i used to watch emperors new groove everyday before and after school.) my little sister watches we bare bears and the amazing world of gumball which is great

85. favourite teacher - my old textiles teacher was really kind and supportive of my and my work which had a huge impact on my quality of work e.c.t. also my photography/art teacher, shes so lovely and wonderful, i’ve cried, threw up, had a mental breakdown and complained in front of her on occasions and she she helped me every step of the way, i always went to her for advice and such so i appreciate her a lot

i was tagged by @everyteardrop and i tag @soundshoodfeelshood @amazingseren @00my-secret-world00 @palettegguk

(i don’t have a lot of mutuals on here so if you want to do this then just do it and pretend i tagged you lmao)

[coshayphinelove]

5 character headcanons - cosima, felix, scott, art, mk, rachel, krystal, adele

i am so sorry if you are on mobile and the read more does not work properly and you see all of this.  

you have my deepest apologies.

Send me the name of a character and I will tell you my:

cosima

1. sexuality headcanon:  canon says she’s a lesbian, i just wanna say that despite what interviews beforehand said.  

and i’ve always had the idea that for a long time she had a complicated relationship with her sexuality.  she identified as bi and/or queer for a while and swore off labels for another.  like she had been with guys before and they were fun and everything.  and the girls she was with were also fun but she was only looking for fun there, too.  but now she’s gotten to the point where she’s looking for something more serious than fun.  and that led her to realizing that she Loves women way more and way more thoroughly than she likes men (if she even can really call it liking men at all).  and so she’s getting comfortable with labels and id’s as a lesbian now.

(i only think that because the two conflicting informations needed to be reconciled in my head.)  (i’m not a lesbian so please tell me if this is not cool or something that isn’t part of being one.)

2. otp:  coshayphine.  they’re just.  so good.  though i’m kind of dragging myself down a sarcoshayphine hole and there’s #noragrets.  (some ragrets, actually.  that is so many people and hands and emotions to keep track of.)

3. brotp:  if it’s not a sarcoshayphine thing, then sarah.  i feel like aside from helena and sarah they’re the closest.  and they just care so much for each other that if it didn’t get to a dating level then they would be the bestest of bros.  

and if it is sarcoshayphine then charlotte.  i’ve already decided that she calls her little buddy (even after charlotte gets taller than her)  (which is going to happen).

4. notp:  idk?  paul?  i really hated paul.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head:  I Have Too Many.

but i love the idea of her getting a hair cut like this or this (short sides and a floofy curly bit at the top) bc in my head she’s nonbinary.  so she’s got this big life change of turning over a new leaf and being free finally and coming to terms with some new identities and she just cuts all her hair off.  Symbolism.

6. one way in which I relate to this character:  i like science and girls and if they happened at the same time for me i would start coughing up blood too.

7. thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: her seemingly putting her own needs aside and not talking to delphine.  like they start and she brings up good points, but delphine is written to be cryptic af so it just seems like she gives up on trying to find out what she wants or working their relationship into something more healthy.  and that makes me real uncomfy.8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?:  cinnamon roll!!

The rest are under a cut!!

felix

1. sexuality headcanon:  he is gay

2. otp:  either him and colin or felony.  i just miss tony a whole lot.

3. brotp:  sarah.  lov thos kids

4. notp:  ???  paul.  i’m just going to keep saying paul

5. first headcanon that pops into my head:  i have it outlined for the post s5 fic that once coshayphine move into their residence that they’re going to keep for the foreseeable future they hang up the painting of cosima.  and she hates being the only one with a 5 foot tall painting.  

so being a good foster brother-in-law or whatever they are to each other, he paints one of delphine and shay too, because that’s totally what cosima meant!!!!  not that she wanted it taken down/put somewhere other than the front room.  thanks felix.  sure thing cosima, what are foster brother-in-laws for?  and he paints delphine naked to make her just a little uncomfortable (one of his favorite past times), but it’s from the shoulders up.  so it’s not too weird.

6. one way in which I relate to this character:  sarcasm and using gay as a descriptor 

7. thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character:season 4.  like.  i know it worked out in the end.  but the fact that he didn’t understand why searching for his ‘real sister’ while there’s life or death situations bothered sarah was like.  the worst.  and i understand his side too, but like.. did it need to happen Right Then?  when evil corporations were stealing and copyrighting genomes??8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?:  cinnamon roll.

scott

1. sexuality headcanon: biromantic asexual!!

2. otp: hellwizard and/or rune wars.

3. brotp:  team science mega force

4. notp:  just gonna say paul right down the line, for Comedic Effect.

but for a while there were people who were like scott/delphine or scott/cosima and it was.  a no from me.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head:  has the unfortunate job of first one down to the lab in the morning.  he either wakes cosima and delphine up or walks really loudly to alert them that he is there.  he is usually someone who likes to start work early, but… he starts coming in later because he’s seen things that he Did Not Want To See.  he is unable to make eye contact with cosima for a week after she was going to run to the kitchen to grab breakfast naked but didn’t know he was there.  poor guy.

6. one way in which I relate to this character:  Uncomfortable Chortling™.

7. thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: Uncomfortable Chortling™.8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?:  cinnamon roll.  the purest one.  he just really wants to help his bro.

art

1. sexuality headcanon:  bi art woulda been cool.

2. otp: safety and happiness.  i don’t know what we know about his ex but if it was healthy and loving but just dissolved bc of him working so much then maybe he could reconnect with her?  

3. brotp:  beth and art 5ever

4. notp:  sarah.  They Are Friends.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head:  is such a good dad.  plays dress up and does tea parties and when charlotte is having behavioral problems at school takes the time to talk to her and figures out it’s bc she’s bored and too smart.  had to be forced to stop bed time stories bc ‘that’s for babies, dad!!!’ was a little more than heartbroken.  is the dad that runs out onto the soccer field when his kid is taken down and appears to be injured.  cries openly when he finds out that helena named her son after him.

6. one way in which I relate to this character:  Guy Who Just Wants His Friends To Get Their Lives Together But Doesn’t Worry About His Own.

7. thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: in the finale there was this shot of him while he was helping helena give birth.  and i think they went too close with a short lens while he was laughing because his face kinda looked distorted.  and it was a nice laughing face but the distortion kinda scared me.  made me think something bad was about to happen WHICH WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN OKAY8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?: cinnamon roll

mk

1. sexuality headcanon:  asexual aromantic

2. otp: how just so totally alive she still is and how she killed freshanando

3. brotp:  nicki? nikki?  however you spell her name.  and also beth.

4. notp:  death.  canon.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head: got pretty much all of her money from embezzling and investing.  she only embezzled like $2,000 from each corporation, but she was so good at timing and watching the market she’s sitting on several million dollars.  but she likes her trailer so she just gives the extra away as it comes in.  at least now that she has family to gift it to.

cosima enrolls at University of Toronto and finds the exact amount for her tuition is wired to her account.

delphine needs to buy a whole new wardrobe and rebuild her life and an envelope full of cash is waiting in the mailbox at the comic book store.  (not the point right now, but where THE FUCK was she getting her clothes???)

alison is worried about the kids’ college tuition bc of their year of unemployment plus drug dealing and gets a transfer.

sarah takes some time in finding a job and is worried about making a payment on S’s house but then it magically goes away and so does the next one.

etc. etc.  and she never runs out of money, but everybody else just thinks she’s being so generous.  and they never ask for more, bc god how could you ask for more after gifts like that.  and so she just keeps accruing more and more interest so she starts just dumping all this money on charities.

6. one way in which I relate to this character:  i really wanna blow frickinanderino up.  

7. thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character:i don’t think there was anything...  but i don’t really remember much of s4... maybe the driving with the sheep mask on?  that was so dangerous and extra.8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?:  cinnamon roll

rachel

1. sexuality headcanon:  i’ve been seeing some people talking about lesbian rachel and i can get behind that.  like seeing the number of clones showing signs of ‘sexual fluidity’ or whatever the book phrased it as.  and she doesn’t want to be like them.  so she forces it down to be The Perfect Subject.  then later realizes that that made those subjects of more interest to some of the scientists.  or she never considered it for herself because they always gave her male monitors so she just didn’t think about it.  there’s some angst there.

2. otp:  propane.

3. brotp:  who was the guy she texted ‘update pls’?  bc whoever she felt she could text slang with they must’ve been close.

4. notp:  paul, but i mean it this time.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head:  go read @sharkodactyl s fic the sun that’s setting in the east.  

6. one way in which I relate to this character: is a sucker and would do anything for an authority figure’s approval.

7. thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character:anything to do with ferfuckle.  honey.  love yourself.8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?:  Problematic.  not even fave.  i felt for rachel, but it was very cool_motive_still_murder.gif.  unlike with other characters who did bad things, her intent was to harm.  even if it was misguided revenge against the wrong people.  though i am glad that she got out alive and can try to live a life that she actually chooses rather than what is chosen for her.

krystal

1. sexuality headcanon:  idk.. maybe pansexual?  or she just doesn’t do labels and has a whole speech about it.

2. otp: brie.  they even have a canon ship name in kay-bee.

3. brotp:  manicures, mimosas, & croissants as described here.  but basically krystal, adele, and delphine.  they go for brunch, get their nails done, and tipsily validate the everliving fuck out of each other.

4. notp:  paul, cuz why not.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head:  bc kay-bee is obviously canon... after the incident with brie’s hair krystal is extra careful when she plays with her hair.  and she takes extra special but sneaky looks to see if she’s getting any bald spots.  in short, she’s worried about her girlfriend and wants to make sure she’s okay.

6. one way in which I relate to this character:  does The Most but is dead wrong.

7. thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character:  the fact that john and graeme didn’t know that she was based on a kroll show bit and accidentally kinda stole her.8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?:  the cinnamoniest of rolls

adele

1. sexuality headcanon:  i feel like she is a straight person?  she just reminds me of my country relatives who have ‘live, laugh, love’ signs in their homes.  idk why.

2. otp:  getting help for her drinking problem and getting un disbarred.  re barred?

3. brotp:  as stated above:  manicures, mimosas, & croissants.

4. notp:  fuck it.  paul.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head:  she’s scarily good at video games.  she didn’t even realize it until she sat down to play with the kids, at their request, and finds out that she can’t stop winning.  the kids then ask her to leave.

6. one way in which I relate to this character:  is also very ready to drink at any time.

7. thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character:idk i feel like she was a wholesome addition to clone club.  maybe her inability to keep a secret even though everybody told her to not tell.8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?:  cinnamon roll.

[literature-works]

A Different Type of Soldier Chapter 3

Fullmetal alchemist x Starwars Crossover

Story Summary: In a period of civil war, the Empire pushes the Rebel forces towards the outer reaches of the galaxy. With the Jedi Master Van Hohenheim captured and the Rebel forces stretched to their breaking point, there doesn’t seem to be any hope for them to take down the Empire. But a forgotten insignificant clone might be the answer the Rebels were looking for.

Chapter Summary: Clones are not allowed to have families, but it is the only thing Captain ED-0001 really wants

Chapters 1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7/ ?

AO3

“Sir! Sir! A call is coming in from higher up for you,” Private BX-5757 called out to him. The soldier’s poofy brown hair poked out from the old clunky headset he was wearing, his helmet on the desk forgotten. Most units have radios that connect to the intercom built into their armor. Their system was so old that BX-5757, also known as Bixby, had to wear an ancient set of headphones instead of his helmet. He was luckily able to update the radio systems with the help of Cadet Pitt so that it could send messages to the personal radios they had in the left forearm plating of their armor, but it still needed dinosar speaker and headphones to actually input the messages from base. The poor Private longed for the day he could just wear his helmet and use the radio hub.

“Who is it?” the Captain asked as he set down his notebook. He was relaxing in the unit’s offices trying to crack the code of his brandings and having little success. But with it being only the second day staring at the pages of his journal, little success was better than none.

Bixby’s face looked nervous, or at least scared and the Captain understood that it was someone important. He could give one solid guess as to who it was.

“I-It’s the General! General Greed! He wants to talk to you now,” Bixby whispered as if he thought that speaking the General’s name any louder would get him killed. If it was in the wrong context, it probably would. Edward closed his notebook and threw it down to his chair as he quickly stood up and walked over to the hologram communication system to receive the call. He snapped to Bixby to patch the General in, all the while he quickly tried to come up with something to tell Greed why he was using the Empire’s resources on unauthorized missions into the planet’s villages. He needed to make it convincing. After a few minutes of Bixby plugging in a few dusty wires and giving a rough kick to the hologram machine, it rattled to life. A picture of the General relaxing in a rather comfortable looking chair flickered onto the platform in a pale blue light. Spikey jet-black hair stood on end as mischievous purple eyes analyzed his new Green Lion commander. Edward was glad he was wearing his helmet or else the General would have seen his dumbfounded expression at seeing the commander of the Avarice Battalion lounging with his feet propped up like he was a disobedient teenager waiting to be amused. The Captain quickly fumbled for a salute as he got over his initial shock of seeing such a powerful man in front of him.

“Captain ED-0001 of Green Lion Company reporting, sir,” he said, his voice not betraying how much his nerves felt like they were twisting into knots. Instead of returning the gesture, the General just gave a halfhearted wave as he straightened himself out on his throne.

“I don’t want chit chat, all I want are answers,” the man’s deep voice mused with a sharp grin. “Are you taking unauthorized trips into Liore or does your Supply Sergeant simply have the wrong numbers?”

“Yes, sir, I have sent three convoys into the village and plan for more later in the week,” Edward confirmed as he knew full well denying it would get him nowhere.

“More?” the General asked, his eyes widening in shock. “Why might I ask are you giving civilians all of my precious belongings? The Empire, specifically me, has paid good money to get these resources and all you are doing is giving them away. Charity is not my forte.”

“Sir, after the last harvest the village was left ransacked and desolated. I sent out aid to help repair their houses and droids-“

“With our supplies?”

“Yes, sir.” The General grimaced and bit the inside of his cheek in distaste. He shifted around uncomfortably in his chair and the Captain prepared himself for the scolding he was sure to get but it never came. The General opened his mouth and closed it in frustration. It seemed his anger was beyond words.

“Captain whatever your number was. I hope you realize, I love clones. In fact, I love minions. They have a power of obedience that gets me what I want, and that is everything. You though… don’t have that,” he said hesitantly, his voice was calm but there was a burning fire behind it that someone would be a fool to have crossed. It seemed that the Captain was that fool. “If you are not obedient, if you do not follow orders, then what are you to me?” The Captain frowned, and he stood a little straighter to give his answer.

“If you want mindless followers, General, droids seem more your suit. Clones were made to think creatively in battle in a way that droids could not. We obey orders differently. My mission here was to get you food for the legion. Nowhere was I given the order to rape civilians and plunder villages for amusement. The farmers cannot tend their crop if their minds are preoccupied with rebuilding their town, and then we would be low on our quota and you would not get what you want at all,” the Captain retorted stiffly. He waited for the General to reprimand him but nothing was said. After a few seconds, he decided to continue with his explanation, hoping to make the General understand why he did what he did. “There have been known cases of Rebel sympathizers in the town. If the Empire keeps destroying these peoples’ property and sending them into starvation every year, there could possibly be an uprising. Just visiting the village, we have had a few civilians attack us already. If we don’t restore the bonds with the civilians, we won’t have farmers willing to work for us. Then you would be wasting even more resources teaching your soldiers how to farm.” Silence continued after he finished and General Greed shifted once more into his chair, resting his chin tiredly on his hands. His eyes flickered as they studied him and the Captain realized that he was observing him more than paying attention to the story he was telling. A strike of strange curiosity seemed to overtake the General and he motioned towards him with a hand.

“Take off your helmet for a second,” he ordered simply. The Captain was taken back at how easy the order was. He reached up and gently removed his helmet from his head, obeying the commands of his superior officer. The instant his helmet was removed the General completely changed demeanor. A greedy smile spread across his face as his eyes sparkled mischievously. It was as if the General had won the lottery, and the Captain was his ticket made of gold. ED-0001 wanted nothing more than at that moment than to tell Bixby to turn off the communication system. However, he didn’t run and stood his ground. The General let out a gleeful chuckle and clapped his hands excitedly as he stood up from his chair.

“Yes! Yes! Wonderful. You are completely right. Completely right!” the man howled. It appeared that he was going insane. The man reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette, quickly lighting it. The Captain wondered where he even got it since Imperial soldiers weren’t allowed drugs or alcohol of any kind. He guessed rules didn’t apply to higher command. Even with the thing in between his lips, he still wore a devilish grin though the effects of the smoke seemed to calm his estranged outburst. “You are right. You are exactly what I need right now,” he breathed out, a pillar of smoke was not caught on the hologram but the Captain could have imagined it there. “Continue what you are doing. I will give you whatever you need if you give me whatever I need. I will be coming down to that puny planet within the month to discuss this further.”

“C-coming down, sir?” ED-0001 stumbled and the General simply winked at him since his helmet could no longer hide the look of shock that spread across his face.

“Just me myself and I. Is there anything you need until that time? Any other ingenious plans I should know about?” he asked as he snapped to someone outside the range of the hologram and in a second he was handed a small notebook. He scribbled something down like a memo and then tossed it carelessly behind him. He waited for an answer, but the Captain didn’t know if he could ask it of the General then and there. He needed to tell him about his plan on cloning the seeds, but clones were not supposed to know the information on how they were made. The only thing they were supposed to know was how to shoot and do their jobs. However, he needed the resources to make the cloning process go as planned, something more than a supply outpost could manage. He hoped that the General could have given him incite to it.

“Uh, sir, there is just one thing,” he said as he quickly ran back to one of the office chairs and picked up his journal where he left it. He flipped it open to the page with Pitt’s sketch on it and hesitated, wondering if this was beyond the General’s selfish generosity. Would showing his work get him killed for knowing too much? Would it get him reprogrammed? He sucked in a huge breath and bent down towards the hologram intake and pointed the sketches towards the machine. The General saw them on his side and his eyes went wide almost instantly. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth which hung wide open in the first expression of shock the Captain had seen from the man.

“We definitely got a smart one here,” the General mused making the Captain even more unsure of the consequences of his actions than before. “I am coming down within the month,” the General simply repeated himself. “This trip better be worth it.” He gave a lazy wave before the hologram communication shut off. There were a few seconds of silence where the machines clattered off and started to cool down. The Captain continued to stare to where the General used to be sitting, and tried to organize his jumbled up mess of thoughts. Confusion was the most prominent emotion he felt, but the second was relief. After a few seconds, the Captain let out a huge breath of air and nearly collapsed in the chair behind him as his legs gave out on him.

“Sir!” Bixby exclaimed as he saw him hit the chair. He got up to run over to him but forgot to take his wired headphones off. The communications systems were taunted with the sharp tug of the wires but it was Bixby that gave. He fell flat on his back after just getting up from his chair. The pit of worry that was had settled in the Captain’s stomach got up and fluttered away as he saw his subordinate stumble around with the mess of wires. He let out a howling laugh that eased the tension from his shoulders and shattered Bixby’s concern for him. Though the Private’s pride was crushed, he soon joined in the laughter after their nerve wracking encounter with the General.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” the Captain breathed as he ran his hands through his hair. The remnants of a few lingering giggles was still on his lips and he let out another chuckle to ease his raveled nerves. “I thought we were dead for sure. I can’t believe he accepted it-“

“Sir, he could still change his mind. He’s coming here of all places-“

“That means we just need to get it ready for him, that, and this little book,” the Captain motioned towards his hand where his journal was held tightly. “If I am going to give him something substantial, I need to break this code fast. Bixby,” he said as he haphazardly pushed himself up from the chair where he collapsed. Bixby jumped to his feet as he was addressed. He stood straight and tall thought he looked like a mess. The headphones laid skewed on his head and his curly mop of hair was tossled underneath. It looked like someone had thrown him into the hurricane. “I need you to tell everyone that the General is coming. We need this place looking spotless as ever.”

“Yes, sir!” the Private replied as he quickly ran towards the office door, yet again forgetting that the headphones were connected to a rather solid piece of machinery. The Captain rolled his eyes as he walked over to where his subordinate was currently trying to get up off of the floor from his latest battle with the radio.

“I need to tell you two things before you run off,” he sighed as he looked down at the Private. “One, don’t call me sir. Two, please for god sake don’t break the only radio we got.” Bixby mumbled another yes sir against his orders as he sprinted out of the offices to tell everyone else the news that they had just learned. The Captain shook his head, a smile still sprawled across it as he picked up the battered headphones and set them back on the communications desk for Bixby to forget about later. He picked up his own helmet and tucked his hair up into it as he placed it back over his head. If the General really was coming, he had a lot of things to do to get the unit back into working shape and not a lot of time to do it. But most importantly, he needed to figure out the brandings on their back before anything else. He did not want to see the General disappointed. It would not end well for anyone.

……….

The Captain watched all of his subordinates run around the base either doing last minute clean ups or finding places to hide from the arriving General. Lower ranking soldiers never liked confrontations with officers, especially those in high command. He kind of wished that he could join them in their hiding but he had to go outside and meet the General when his ship arrived. He had his journal tucked tightly in his iron grip as if he was afraid to lose it. Everything he needed was in there, but for some reason even that didn’t seem like enough. All he wanted to do was run away, but he was already neck deep in the mess he made for himself and the water was quickly rising. If he didn’t get the General on board with his plans, he might as well drown.

            The day was bright and sunny but it was dead. There was not a gust of wind to be seen which made it hotter than the depths of hell. The Captain had grown accustomed to the heat very quickly and it didn’t mind him as much even though he still always yearned for the more beautiful days where the air was cooler and the planet seemed only a bit more alive. He walked out onto the baking black tarred surface of the landing strip to await the incoming vessel. His feet felt almost like they would melt to the ground before he even caught sight of the ship. But luckily for his feet he heard Bixby come in through the radio speakers in his head set.

            “Captain ED-0001, this is BX-5757. A ship is approaching from the northside. They will be here in less than a minute, over,” the staticky voice of the Private came through. The Captain lifted his left wrist where the radio system was imbedded in his armor and spoke into it.

            “BX-5757, this is Captain ED-0001, read you loud and clear, over,” he replied before turning his head to the north as a sudden soft wind picked up. A large black metal ship approached the landing pad before he knew it. The wind the Captain was feeling was coming from the turbines of the sleek luxury ship and had grown to new strengths nearly sending him off of his feet. He planted them into the earth and tucked his journal tight to his chest to make sure it or its contents did not fly off into nowhere. Otherwise he did not budge as the vessel came to a complete stop and he heard the whine of the engines wind down.

The door of the ship opened with a short and steep ramp descending from it. At first, the Captain could only see the feet of the ship’s occupants as they walked down the ramp as the large wing of the craft was blocking most of his view. However, when the General rounded it and came into sight, the Captain was very much taken back. Seeing General Greed in person was nothing like how he would imagine it to be. Not even seeing him over the hologram communications was enough to give him a good idea of what to expect. Whatever the Captain had been thinking, the General did not live up to it in more ways than one. ED-0001 had always assumed that a high-ranking officer would walk tall, proud, and be nearly as stiff and intimidating as everyone feared they were. He had seen enough low-ranking officers act like that and it was enough to both make him afraid and rather annoyed with their privileged arrogance. The General, however, did not. He strolled across the pavement with slouched shoulders and an unamused grimace on his face. The long black clothes that were draped off of him held not a sign of rank or alignment to them. He swayed almost in a saunter as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The only thing that struck the Captain as anything commanding was the rather vicious look in his purple eyes. Though the General in all other aspects did not appear as cruel as a man that some people made him to be, the Captain would have been a fool to cross the man in any way. The gleam in his eyes told him that the General could tear him apart in seconds himself, and that his body guards that were with him were just for clean up duty.

With his nerves on fire and a trembling fear in his throat, the Captain raised his shaking arm up into a salute as the General approached him.

“C-Captain ED-0001, reporting sir-“

“Do you like being called sir?” the General asked him without returning the gesture. He wore an amused grin as if the Captain was only there for his entertainment. ED-0001 dropped his salute hesitantly and was very unnerved. 

“Uh… no, not really-“

“Me neither. Call me Greed,” he said nonchalantly as he continued towards the command center without even waiting for his lead. “Do you have a nickname? I heard that was a thing amongst you Clone people. The numbers always get jumbled in my head.”

“Y-yes.” After a second of no other answer, the General stopped in his tracks and looked down at him. He raised his eyebrow curiously and eyed him for a few seconds.

“And?” he asked impatiently.

“I don’t use it.” Greed looked up to the sky as if that would give him some way to rationalize his odd answer but eventually shrugged his shoulders in acceptance.

“Very well. I’ll just call you Blondie until we figure it out,” he hummed before continuing his walk towards the base. “I have many questions to ask you and many answers that still need to be given. Action will be decided after I receive them. Until then, do you have a quiet place for us to talk?”

“Cadet PT-3149 has cleared out a conference room for us to use. It should have enough-“

“I am talking about something a little… let’s say… isolated. I don’t like to put on shows for other people. Especially not your tiny unit.” The Captain suddenly found the General’s arm slung around his shoulder. He was pull roughly into the General’s side a little too close for comfort. To some it might look like they were best friends on a stroll. For him, he was nearly choking and the only thing he could smell was the faint layer of cigarette smoke that hung to the man’s clothes. The General leaned very close to him, but didn’t look at him in the eye as they continued to walk towards their destination.

“I don’t think reading your little diary in public would be a very good idea. If too many people over hear, it wouldn’t be much of a secret diary anymore. Clones take orders, and you might not always be the ones giving them.” Greed whispered stiffly in such a way that ED-0001 knew that if he continued to ask questions, the next thing that would come out of his mouth was a threat. The Captain narrowed his eyes and stopped in his tracks. He pulled himself out of the General’s rough grasp and took a few steps back from him. Greed looked nothing but surprised.

“Sir, I don’t know if you really understand this. My unit isn’t the most ideal, but I would appreciate it if you don’t insult them. They know their chain of command and that starts with me and me only. You are the commander of the battalion, and whoever else is the commander of everything else above that. But my company is mine, and they know it. I am first in the chain and they come to me no matter who has their ears.” The General looked taken back. It seemed that no one talked to him like that before. The Captain stood his ground and waited for Greed to make up his mind on what to say in retort to his snide comment. A look of anger spread for his disrespect however the only thing that came out of his mouth was an outrageous fit of laughter.

“Damn kid. I love your guts. Whatever you want, fine. But, there are a few things I need to talk about that are… let’s say, very personal. Don’t get mad at me when your unit starts asking questions you don’t want to answer. Now let’s get inside before my insides melt out.” The Captain lead the General inside. He was rather relieved to be out of the heat and in the air-conditioned base. He could almost hear the sizzling of his armor as it cooled down from its baking outside. However, with every step he took, he felt like it was another step towards the end. He didn’t know if it was a good thing, or a bad one. All the privates that were unfortunate enough to be caught outside called attention to the base and stood stiff at attention for the parade of officers walking through.

They eventually made it to the conference room that was set aside for them. The door opened and the Captain saw Cadet Pitt standing there waiting for them. He could not read his expression underneath his helmet, but he knew that the man was nervous. He was scared of the idea of the General coming to the small planet since day one. He was rightfully afraid of backlash from going against the General’s orders. However, against it all he stood firm and unmoving. The Captain was glad to have him by his side. The Cadet smoothly followed into a salute for the General.

“General Greed, sir! I am Cadet PT-3149 at your service. The room has been fully searched for bugs and all surveying equipment has been turned off. This area is secured,” he said stiffly. Greed’s eyes widened in amazement as he looked over and around to find any sign of what the soldier had previously listed. The Captain smirked at the General’s surprise.

“We assumed that the reason you were coming down to Resembool for anything was because you wanted some discretion. No one in their right mind would go to the middle of nowhere for anything else. I had the Cadet prepare everything for you,” the Captain noted. He gave an accepting nod towards Pitt who lowered his salute and quickly made his way to his post in the corner. The Captain noticed that the General’s guards did as well, though they posted just outside the door. Greed gave a warry eye towards the Cadet but said nothing about his presence nor the work he did for them. The Captain assumed that his pride would have been severed if he admitted he did not expect any of these precautions from them. Instead, Greed dropped himself tiredly in the closest chair and motioned towards the one next to him. He was getting straight to business. The Captain took the chair and rifled through his notebook towards the most recent pages. They were covered in chicken scratch of which most people could not comprehend. The General did not even sit up in his chair to glance at it. Greed looked very interested in what it had to say though he made no move to actually read it. The Captain supposed he would have to brief the General on what he had figured out.

“So, what is this magical plan you came up with that will triple our crop and stop rebellion all at once? You really sold it to me over the other day, now what am I really buying?” Greed asked. 

“Uh, Okay,” the Captain replied shakily as he tried to gather his nerves together. He knew his work like the back of his hand. He had reviewed it a million times just for this moment. But, now that it was here, his words were caught in his throat. “I was able to design a cloning program for the crop the farmers in the villages regularly sow by decoding the brandings of several of my soldiers to get a consensus on the general cloning process. Making a human is rather complex but with Sergeant DD-9999’s knowledge and skill with plants I was able to suggest a simplified method for cloning seeds. The cloned seeds would take about a month to prepare given that we have all of the appropriate equipment and resources before hand. Depending on how much we alter the seeds it could reduce their growing time by half which would give the farmers in the villages at least three harvests in a year, possibly some more. That would provide enough food for the legion and keep the villages well fed through the year. Any extra food could be sold for money to pay for the village’s expenses and necessities.”

“And how did you get this information?” Greed interrogated coolly. The Captain closed his mouth and took a quick glance at his subordinate.

“Wh-what?” he stuttered after swallowed a lump in his throat. The General’s cold and calculating eyes tightened with his question. It seemed though the idea of the seeds was very compelling to the General, the process of making them was not something he would rather mess with especially if it was something that they weren’t supposed to know in the first place.

“Clones don’t know about this process or even the codes for it. How did you learn all of this? Did someone tell you?”

“N-no. I remembered the basics of cloning from my own development and put the pieces together to figure out the-“

“You know how you were born?”  Greed questioned him. The Captain faltered slightly as he wondered why it was such a hard concept to understand.

“Uh, yeah, I thought-“

 “You aren’t supposed to know any of this and the basics take a long time for even those studying it to understand. You could not have woken up one day and just know it from watching people buzz around you. Who told you?” Greed scolded him.

“No one!” The Captain defended himself. “I just figured it out! That’s the truth!” Greed frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair tiredly. It seemed like his mind was running a mile a minute, but the Captain did not know about what. It seemed that the man was trying to make sure that their project was as secret as it could be. Having no informant for the cloning process made it even more secure than anyone could hope for. However, the General looked worried.

“Did you notice anything different in your process than anyone elses?” Greed asked him, his voice quiet like the topic itself was a taboo. That question caught the Captain off guard.

“What do you mean?” he asked, thinking that he didn’t hear the man right. Greed let out an exasperated sigh and straightened himself out in his chair.

“Did you notice anything different?” he repeated, emphasizing each word. “If you analyzed your own process, was there something that didn’t line up? Extra processing, extra maintenance, extra training? Did your patterns fit in with the other collection?” The Captain frowned and looked down as he thought about it. It occurred to him that it was true. His were different. He had pulled cloning procedures from clones from different series. Each one of them had some alteration to the process that made them slightly different than each other but other than that they were the same basic procedure. His though, were not. He had originally thought it was a coincidence. Maybe he was the only one in the unit with his alterations. Afterall, he was the first one in his series to have been made and the only one in his entire batch to survive the process. He wasn’t a dime a dozen model. But now that the General was questioning him about it, he really did find it odd.

“Yeah, I did,” He muttered. “My code is ED-0001 for Experimental Design. They had prioritized the creation of mind over matter in my pod stage so when I was born my muscles were not fully developed like they should have been. They had to enhance their growth later through electrical stimulation. But I didn’t use that in the seeds. I followed regular procedure and-”

“We are not talking about the seeds anymore. I am all for those now. You really sold the idea to me and I will fully fund them. But now, we are talking about you,” the General said strictly. “The Empire experiments on clones all of the time so that doesn’t surprise me. However what does surprise me is how similar you look to our Supreme leader. Was there anything different in, well, lets say, the code for the gene donor?”

“There wasn’t a code given,” the Captain answered. “They just mention adding the genetic material not who it was from.”

“Interesting,” the General said sarcastically, obviously asking for more information than Edward was giving.

“There was no code given, but the Supreme Leader always had a direct hand in my development and training as well as my brother’s. -“

“Brother’s?” the General snapped and the Captain knew he had said something wrong. “I didn’t know you were authorized a family, Blondie. If every clone had a brother they would have a thousand.”

“I only have him,” he frowned, “AL-0002 was the other experiment done within hours of mine. He was also the only survivor of his procedure but we both have the same genetic donor as many of the scientists liked to point out. We were the only ones.”

“And what did this AL person do for you? Huh? Why the hell do you think he is your brother?” the General growled at him. “The only thing you share is DNA and that is a shit requirement for family. A clone like you doesn’t have a family. I don’t even know why you would want one. The only person you have is yourself. That is the only person you can ever be worthy of.”

Greed slouched back in his seat and crossed his arms angrily while the Captain took the blade of his harsh words to his heart. It got incredibly lonely being a clone in the Imperial Army. They were born without a reason, they were disregarded as scrap and an expendable force. They were simply copies with no individuality, and no family. The Captain thought he had all of that once before it was ripped out from underneath him. He got to taste what it was like to have someone who considered him important, who called him family. It was a basic need every human should have. Now, he had nothing, and the General was mocking him for dreaming.

The Captain opened his mouth to defend himself and his brother but he found himself wordless and closed it immediately. As much as he wanted to believe he had a brother, the General was right. He didn’t know what a family was supposed to be outside of DNA relations. He didn’t know what it was and so he didn’t deserve to have a family. Seeing that he was accepting his words the General sighed and scratched the back of his neck.

“Blondie, it’s nothing against you but if someone else were to hear you say this nonsense you will no longer be a Commander of a company. You will probably be dead. So keep it to yourself. We have more important issues at hand-“

“About my cloning process?”

“Yeah,” the General hummed to himself in thought. The Captain could only guess what was important enough about his life to ponder about. He was clueless to the direction of this conversation, nor its importance. He had grown up differently than other clones. He had been through more thorough schooling and weapons training directly under the supervision of the Supreme Leader himself, but wasn’t that to be expected from an experimental clone? The General was asking a lot of questions about his originator. The Captain had always assumed that the Supreme Leader himself had donated his and AL-0002’s DNA. Their appearances were too identical to be a coincidence and he doubted that the Supreme Leader would waste time on someone else’s clone. But DNA meant nothing aside from what color someone’s hair was. There was no reason for the General to be so obsessed with his cloning process.

After a few minutes of silence, the General stood up without a word and snapped his fingers, to alert his guards. The two soldiers opened the door and entered stiffly on their command.

“Blondie, continue your little science project here. If I have anymore questions for you, I will be down to ask them-“

“But what about my cloning process? Why do you want to know so much about it?” the Captain pushed, wanting to know what the General was thinking. A crude smirk grew on the man’s face as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and stuffed one in his mouth. The guard to his right leaned over immediately and lit it for him without question.

 “What do you know about the Emperor?” he asked calmly.

“Nothing more than what I need to.”

“Textbook answers will only get you so far, kid,” Greed grinned. He released a puff of his cigarette and stuck it back in his mouth for thought. “Your originator is an incredibly powerful person, Captain. I don’t doubt that you are quite similar to him, even if you don’t realize it yet-“

“The Supreme Leader?” he asked but the General out let out a breathy laugh and shook his head as if he had just given the dumbest answer in the book.

“Whatever you suppose,” he chuckled. “However, with a lot of power like that I wouldn’t go wasting your time on family and friends. At least until you know you can protect them.” The General gave one wave to him and another to Cadet PT-3149 in the corner before seeing himself out. Captain ED-0001 escorted him to the door and watched the man’s ship exit the planet’s atmosphere, the questions still spinning in his head. He had hoped to find answers in his talk with the General. Now, he felt even more lost and alone than before.

……

            Captain ED-0001 laid on his bed staring at the blank pages of his journal absent mindedly. He had told his subordinates that he would be working on the seeds that evening as was the General’s orders and had locked himself in his room since then. However, it was more of an excuse to get away from everything for a while. His talk with the General was spinning circles in his brain and he had not even touched a single page of his notebook that evening. He couldn’t think of the cloning process. Not now. Not after the interrogation. He could not stop remembering the man’s warning.

            The door to the room opened quietly with a hiss and Pitt walked in. It was late, very late, but the Cadet had some paperwork to finish up before the night was over. There was light shuffling in the room as Pitt readied himself for bed, taking his time to remove his armor and get washed up. The Captain tried to make himself look preoccupied in his work instead of worried over his wandering thoughts. Unfortunately, growing up with a helmet masking your facial expressions made it a bit difficult to cover them up with out it. The trouble on his face was as easy to read as a children’s book.

            “So, you have a brother, sir?” he asked softly, jumping right to the point. After witnessing the conference with the General himself, it seemed he had a lot of questions of his own that he wanted answered. However, for the few days that Pitt had known him, he had figured out that small talk got him nowhere with the Commander.

            “Apparently not,” the Captain grumbled heavily.

            “The General is right though, relationships of any kind are not allowed in the military. We aren’t allowed to have a family at all-“

            “Then what’s the fucking point then, Pitt?” he retorted angrily. “What’s the fucking point of being human if they just want us to mull about like droids? We are born with nothing, Pitt. Nothing! We don’t belong anywhere, we just phase in and out from one job to the next. It’s all fine to help the Empire reach peace but what’s the point of living if we can’t live?”

“And how would a family help with that, sir? You can’t own a family, you can’t even take it with you when you change duty stations. It’s a dangerous thing to think about for nothing.”

“You don’t get it do you?” the Captain asked his subordinate softly. He was disappointed that the older clone could not even see reasoning behind something so simple and natural. “Having a family would give me a place to call home. Alphonse was that but now…,” he sighed and dropped his head into his hands, “I don’t know anymore.” There was a length of silence that stretched through the room. It was unwelcomed by both parties but they were each too unsure of how to end it. The Captain resented talking about his brother at all. He should have left it out of the conversation with the General but it was now too late to take it back. Pitt wanted to know who exactly his commander was and ED-0001 was now too tired to deny him an answer.

The Captain sighed tiredly and moved over, motioning for his subordinate to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. The tall man collapsed down next to him, his long legs touching the floor from the height of the bed while the Captains barely even reached. They sat in silence for a few more seconds until he gathered the courage to begin his story. The issue was, his story didn’t have much of a happy beginning nor ending. There was no ‘good’ place to start.

“As you heard in the meeting, I am a clone of the Emperor. I didn’t tell anyone because it doesn’t mean anything. I am still human and I still made stupid mistakes which have taken everything away from me. The General was right, DNA means shit aside from what you look like and who you come from,” he muttered. Pitt kept quiet, not saying a word, so he continued.

            “I am an Experimental Design clone, the only one to have survived the growing pods as well as the Alimentation procedures. I was created as an experiment to put mind over matter. Instead of making a physically strong soldier they wanted to make a smart one, but I was born with too weak muscles and they had to be electrically stimulated after I left the growing pod.”

“Did it hurt, sir?” Pitt asked dumbly.

“I would expect putting electricity through one’s body to be painful,” he replied sarcastically. “It hurt so fucking bad. Luckily Alphonse didn’t have to go through that. He was a normal design of a clone. AL-0002 or Actual Lineage. Somehow something had to go wrong though because he was also the only survivor in his series. So, from day one, we only had each other to rely on growing up. It was the two of us.

“The Supreme Leader supervised our training and growth himself. He always had a hand in anything we did. He wanted to make us the best. We were trained to be proficient in every weapon and studied strategies and histories developed by any nation. We would spar each other all the time and stay up late studying mountains of texts. It was hard training but we always made the best of it.

“One day though, when we were sparring, the Emperor handed us real weapons. Light sabers and told us to fight until he said to stop. But I couldn’t fight my brother. I couldn’t hurt him. At first he denied as well but suddenly he just went berzerk and…,” the Captain paused, finding it hard to continue past the lump in his throat. He turned away and stared down to where his feet were dangling off the edge of the bed. Behind armor they would not look any different but now in only his under armor, the metal was plain as day. Pitt stared down at the mismatched limbs and gasped as he had connected the dots.

“Your leg,” he breathed and the Captain nodded his head. He was grateful that Pitt had figured it out. If not, the Captain didn’t know if he would be able to find the words to say it aloud. “But… But it had to be an accident, right?” he asked desperately. “Training accidents happen all the time.” Pitt was feeling only an ounce of what the Captain was, and sadly he sympathized with his subordinate. The past was a hard pill to swallow and ED-0001 still hadn’t managed to take his yet.

“I don’t think he wanted to do it. He was crying the whole time and apologizing but…. Now I am here,” he sighed tiredly.

“Do you think it was Clone Fever? It had to be. I heard other cases like that where clones just… they just snap even for a short period of time,” Pitt suggested and the Captain frowned. He had considered it. Clones had the strange habit of randomly acting completely out of character. One minute they would be working a normal day, the next minute the would be killing the person next to them. It was rare but it would happen and no one would know why because the clone would usually be killed during his outburst. No one knew how it happened. His brother was the kindest person that he had ever known. He would spend hours telling him dreams of being a medic and helping the people in small towns across the galaxy. He was a wicked fighter, but he did not have the heart for it. The Captain never knew what had happened to his brother that day but he had gone rogue and attacked him. Clone Fever was the only thing to explain it, but then again it still explained nothing at the same time.

“I don’t know,” the Captain shrugged. However the Cadet was not convinced.

“After doing all of that, how do you know he was your brother?” The Captain bit his lip as he thought about it. He has been asking himself that same question for years. Why was Alphonse his brother? Most people, after having been horribly mutilated by a person, would hate their guts. They would never think of being related to them. He even heard some stories about actual people disowning their families for horrible things that they have done. However, even after what his brother had done, the Captain could only forgive him. He knew in his gut that he could never hate AL-0002.

ED-0001 closed his eyes and sighed tiredly. He massaged his temples as a headache started to arise. He was an idiot who was going to get himself killed some day. He looked back at his subordinate who was still awaiting an answer that he didn’t know he had.

“He is my brother because I cared for him back then and even after all of these years and after what he’s done, I still care for him now,” he breathed. Pitt looked taken back. He was not expecting that response and it seemed to confuse him. The Captain let out a breath of air as he stood up and closed his journal. As his subordinate pondered the consequences of life, he went about living them. He tucked his journal away on his desk to think about for another day.

“Sir,” Pitt said after a worthy length of silence to a topic he didn’t understand, “I have no knowledge about what it is like to have a family or anything, but I don’t think the idea is ridiculous. If that is what it takes to have a brother, Sir, I will believe you.”

            “Thank you,” ED-0001 replied after a short pause. His emotion was evident in his voice and the weak and exhausted smile on his face. He was more than grateful for Pitt’s response. He was actually relieved. He had faced countless people who countered him on his idea of having a family. He was tired of going against the grain on everything he believed in. Now Pitt, though not fully convinced, allowed him the right to be happy. It was relieving and he didn’t think that his subordinate understood exactly what it meant to him.

            Pitt stood up and cleared the room in one stride to get to his own bed. The man collapsed down on it, all ready for a nights sleep after the day they all had. They had a lot going on with the General’s visit and the rather large sum allowance that the man had given them for their aid missions and seed design. It was about time they got some sleep because it was probably going to be an even bigger day tomorrow with all of the work they had to do to get the rather large ball rolling. ED-0001 turned out the light and made his way blindly over to his own bed. Through the walls of the barracks, he could hear his other soldiers arguing, laughing, and enjoying a late night. The Captain was grateful for his early retirement.

            “Sir,” Pitt said as the Captain laid down on his own bed for the evening.

            “Don’t call me sir, Pitt,” he retorted gruffly, not knowing what his subordinate wanted now.

            “Captain,” the man corrected, “If that is what it takes to be family…. I hope I could find one with this unit.” The Captain paused, not expecting his subordinate to consider that. Then again, he really didn’t either. Green Lion Company of the Avarice Battalion was one of the smallest and lowest companies in the entire Imperial Army. Any soldier in their right minds would want to rid themselves of it fast to save their reputation some dignity. However, every day that the Captain had spent there made him want to stay even more. There was a lot of problems in the unit that the Captain knew he needed to fix. But from Sergeant Desden, to Private Bixby, Red, and Cadet Pitt, there was a lot more people he wanted to meet. As Pitt suggested it, the Captain knew he could really see himself growing attached to Green Lion Company.

            “I do to, Pitt,” ED-0001 replied softly. “I really hope so too.”