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mymoonagedaydream · 3 years

Note

ps, idk what the biker/college bucky story will include but i can throw out the idea of doing the modern day army veteran Bucky as a one shot or something? or whatever you don't include in the series lol

Recluse

Summary: You barely even expected to get a conversation out of Steve’s reclusive roommate, never mind anything more than that.

Pairing: Modern Veteran!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language, smut references, references to military service

Author’s Note: You bet your butt I can do that for you anon. This one really got out of hand idk what happened man I couldn’t stop.

---

You’d been living with your friend Sharon for a couple of years now, and it was still going pretty well.

Your ground-floor apartment was very compact, but she was so considerate and easy to get on with, you barely even noticed the lack of space. She cooked for you occasionally, always paid rent on time, even did your laundry without being asked.

You just couldn’t help thinking that things were much more fun when you were both single.

Nothing much had changed in your life, you were still a lone wolf, but she’d been with Steve for almost six months now and you barely ever saw her anymore.

Most nights you were just left to your own devices, clattering around the apartment like some sad old spinster.

It got to the point where, one Friday when you got home from work, you heard Steve and Sharon talking in the kitchen and got excited at the prospect of just having some company for the evening.

Sharon almost jumped on you as soon as you walked in. ‘Y/n! Are you free tonight?’

‘Yeah, totally, completely. You guys sticking around?’

‘You think he’d ever agree to that?.’

‘We were actually thinking of going out for some drinks. You in?’ You contemplated for a second, not wanting to come across too eager, then gave her an enthusiastic nod.

As she grinned back at you, you saw an idea dawn on her. ‘Steve, you should totally bring Bucky.’

Sharon frowned in resignation. You had no idea who they were talking about, their conversation going completely over your head.

Steve went home to change, leaving you and Sharon with a couple hours to get ready before heading out, so you thought you might as well try to probe a little deeper.

‘Who’s Bucky?’ You asked casually, sitting on her bed, watching her hold dress after dress up to herself in the mirror.

‘Steve’s roommate.’

‘I didn’t know Steve had a roommate?’

‘I’d be more surprised if you did.’ She turned towards you. ‘In six months I’ve only met him twice.’

Your eyebrows darted up. She spent so much time at Steve’s place, that made no sense at all.

‘What? Why?’

‘I’m pretty sure he makes a point to avoid people generally.’ She flopped herself down next to you on the bed, her tone lowering to one of deep sincerity. ‘He was in the army with Steve. Apparently he just really struggled to adapt when they got back, collapsed in on himself for a while. I think he’s a mechanic now but Steve is still the only person he really speaks to.’

‘Shit, that’s awful.’

She gave a grim nod and shrugged slightly, before standing back up and starting to get changed.

You figured you should do the same, shuffling back to your room and finally taking off your work clothes, relieved at the thought of getting out of the apartment for the evening.

Just as you were about to leave, Sharon’s phone pinged.

‘Holy shit.’

‘What?’ You’d never seen her look so shocked. She put her index finger up at you while quickly typing something back. ‘You’re killing me here Sharon, what the hell is going on?’

‘Bucky’s coming.’

---

You managed to find a cramped table in the back of the bar. Sharon made you wait for Steve to arrive before ordering drinks, because for some reason he always insisted on buying the first round.

About ten minutes after you arrived, she glanced over to the door, grinned and waved her hand above her head. Following her gaze, you saw Steve pushing through the crowd, followed closely by a statuesque, tower of a man.

Studying him intently as he approached, you noticed how visibly uncomfortable he was, his jaw clenched tight and his hands folded into slowly whitening fists. You let your eyes dance over his huge shoulders and wide chest, feeling your stomach flip a little as he got closer.

‘Hey guys. Sharon, you remember Buck?’ Steve gave his friend a proud pat on the shoulder. Sharon nodded and grinned at Bucky, getting only a short, tight smile in return. ‘And this is y/n.’

Looking up to his face, his sharp blue eyes briefly met yours, prompting you to quickly avert your gaze. He looked tense enough without you gawping at him.

‘Nice to meet you.’ You adopted the friendliest tone possible, doing your best to put him at ease.

Steve went to grab some drinks and Sharon volunteered to help him, leaving you at the table with Bucky, bracing yourself for some intensely awkward small talk.

‘So, you’re a mechanic?’ He nodded. ‘Do you enjoy it?’ Another nod.

Alright, he obviously wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

Christ. If you didn’t break free from this spinster shit soon, that’s exactly where you’d end up.

You didn’t want to force it if he wasn’t comfortable, you could happily sit in silence if that’s what he’d prefer.

You moved your eyes to scan the room, eventually landing on an older woman propping herself up at the bar, downing martinis, eyeing up young men and wobbling on her insanely high heels.

‘What do you do?’

It was barely a mumble, you hardly heard it over the bar’s background music.

Your eyes returned to Bucky’s face, meeting his hesitant gaze.

‘I work in HR, so boring admin stuff mainly.’ He nodded slightly, his eyes flicking nervously between the table and your face. ‘But occasionally I get to use the shredder, which is pretty rad.’

He cracked a brief smile, the sight of it giving you a wave of goosebumps. ‘Sounds thrilling.’

‘I’ve never been here before, have you?’ You were determined to keep this conversation going, especially if there was a chance that you’d be able to make him smile again.

‘No. I haven’t been to any bars recently.’

‘You’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do then.’

Resting your head on your hand, you gave him a mischievous smirk, and felt a little smug as you noticed his shoulders relax slightly and the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

Hours passed, the bar called last orders, and the four of you traipsed out to begin walking home.

Then Steve and Sharon came back with the drinks, pretty effectively ruining the moment you’d been setting up.

Bucky went quiet again, keeping to himself for most of the evening, only speaking when spoken to. You felt his gaze fall on you occasionally, but each time you tried to meet his eyes they were quickly averted.

‘Oh hey, I forgot to ask.’ Steve gestured towards you. ‘Sharon said you went to visit your parents last weekend? How was that?’

‘I couldn’t go in the end, my car's fucked. It’s my own fault, everyday there was a new rattling sound but just ignored it.’

‘I’ll take a look at it.’ Your eyes snapped over to Bucky, a little shocked at how enthusiastically he’d come out with that. ‘If you want.’

You gave him a wide smile. ‘Wow, yeah, that’d be amazing. Thank you.’

---

A few days later, you were faced with another evening alone while Sharon was at Steve’s.

You unenthusiastically pulled a ready meal out of the fridge and poked some holes in the plastic, shoving it in the microwave and reaching for the half-empty bottle of wine on the counter.

‘Hi. Sorry. I was coming this way and Sharon said you’d be in, I thought I could take a look at your car?’

Just as you went to grab a glass out of the cupboard, you were stopped by a faint knock at the front door.

Shuffling over and yanking it open, you saw Bucky standing on your doorstep, looking just as uncomfortable as he did walking into that bar.

You were a little embarrassed that he’d caught in your pyjamas at 6:30, but that feeling was hugely outweighed with how pleased you were to see him.

‘Yeah, great.’ You gave him a warm smile. ‘I’ll just grab my keys.’

You found your gaze pretty quickly drawn to his arms, propping him up as he leant over the machinery like thick, hefty tree trunks. It was amazing how entranced you were by them, but considering how long it’d been since you’d even brushed past an attractive male, it made sense. God the things you’d let him do, if he-

You slipped on your shoes and led him over to the rustbucket, badly parked on the street outside. He flicked open the bonnet and immediately started tinkering.

You had less than no idea what was happening, but it looked very impressive.

‘Could you start it up?’ His deep voice pulled you out of your hazy fantasies.

‘Hmm? Oh, yeah.’

You tried your best to hide how flustered you were as you climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key. An intense rattling started, which he listened to for a second before signalling for you to turn it off and closing the bonnet.

‘You were right, it needs a lot of work. It’s definitely not safe to drive.’

‘Shit, stuck with the bus then.’ You sighed and climbed out, slamming the door behind you. ‘Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to do this. I appreciate it.’

‘Anytime.’ He smiled politely, taking a couple steps backwards before turning, dropping his head and starting to walk away.

‘You can come in for a drink if you want?’ You called after him, a little shocked at your boldness but not at all mad about it. He spun round. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

He took a sip and turned himself slightly to face you. ‘Look, if you bring your car to the shop where I work, I can probably keep the price down.’

His polite smile evolved into a wide grin as he nodded, following you inside.

You grabbed him a beer from the fridge and gestured for him to join you on the couch, smiling to yourself at how nervous he seemed as he balanced himself right on the edge of the seat.

‘Are you sure?’ He nodded. ‘That's so nice, you barely even know me.’

He looked a little sheepish at that, scurrying around for his words. ‘Sharon was pretty keen for me to come take a look, it’s probably best to keep Steve’s girlfriend on side, y’know.’

‘Oh I do know, Sharon can be terrifying.’ You both chuckled as Bucky edged back, settling himself into the couch a little more. ‘So you and Steve met in the army?’

‘We’ve been friends since we were kids, we signed up together.’

‘That’s nice.’ You tilted your head at him, deciding to take a slight gamble on your next question. ‘Do you miss it?’

He fixed his eyes on the ground and faintly shook his head, nervously starting to pick at the label on his bottle.

Shit, you really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, you were just curious.

A swift subject change remedied the situation somewhat, and after a while you sensed him beginning to relax again.

You finished off your glass of wine and checked your phone, your hand shooting up to your forehead in shock when you saw that it was close to midnight.

Over the next couple hours he slowly came out of his shell even further, eventually chatting and laughing with you like you were his good friend. The two of you unconsciously edged towards each other throughout the evening, ending up face to face with legs folded up on the couch, as close as you could get without touching.

‘Shit, I have work tomorrow.’

‘I’m really sorry.’ He put his bottle on the coffee table and stood up quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you up.’

‘Oh you don’t have to apologise, it’s not your fault. I had a really nice evening.’

‘Me too.’ He smiled and buried his hands in his pockets, following you to the front door. ‘I’m working every day this week, you can come in whenever.’

‘Friday would be great? I have the day off.’

‘See you then.’

You watched him disappear down the street, feeling your limbs tingle with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again so soon.

---

You usually used your days off to sleep in till midday, but on Friday the tow truck showed up at 7am to take your car to the shop. You didn’t even get up that early on workdays. A pint of coffee was barely enough to keep you from passing out on the ride there.

He eventually noticed you stood there, staring, and your face immediately heated up as he approached.

You hurried inside the garage, scanning the room and eventually spotting Bucky underneath a hoisted truck, reaching up to work on it. His arms were glistening with oil and sweat and his shirt was riding up, exposing the faint trail of hair starting underneath his bellybutton.

Lord in heaven, what a view.

‘Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt.’

‘That’s alright.’ He pulled a dirty rag out of his pocket and roughly wiped his hands. ‘Did you bring the deathtrap?’

‘Yep, just outside.’

‘It’s gonna be a while. I finish at four, d’you wanna come back then?’

‘Sure.’

You walked up the driveway ten minutes early, which you thought was reasonable, and asked the very intimidating guy out front for Bucky. He just eyed you up and down and gestured vaguely to the side of the building.

On the way home you kept accidentally walking into roads, your mind completely occupied with Bucky’s midriff.

The whole day dragged. In your boredom you ended up leaving for the garage about an hour too early, meaning you had to loiter in an off-license, probably looking like you were shoplifting.

Turning the corner, you were met with a pretty impressive, cinematic wide shot of Bucky’s arse as he was leaning over the inside of your bonnet.

You should probably say something. Tell him you were there. Say hello.

Yeah, probably should.

Yeaaah.

You sighed and reluctantly shuffled towards the car.

‘How’s it-’ Bucky jumped and whacked his head against the propped-up bonnet. ‘Fuck! I’m so sorry, are you alright?’

He smiled at you, standing up and rubbing the back of his head. ‘Yeah, all good. Happens all the time.’

‘Oh, really? In that case you might want to consider a career change, could end up with some permanent damage.’ Chuckling, he reached up and slammed the bonnet with one powerful movement. ‘How’s it looking?’

‘Not bad. Want to take it for a spin?’

‘Sure.’ He held up the keys and you grabbed them out of his hand, excitedly hopping in the driver’s seat while he walked around and got in the passenger side. ‘You coming?’

‘Can’t just let you drive off without paying, you might never come back.’

You shot him a wide smile as you fired up the engine, amazed at how smooth it sounded, and pulled away from the garage.

‘I can’t believe it, it didn’t even run this good when I first got it.’ He smirked a little and nodded. ‘Thank you, Buck.’

You were already in the outskirts of the city, so you decided to drive out into the sticks a little, eventually pulling up into a dusty layby on a narrow side road.

Glancing to your side, you saw that Bucky was struggling not to look very pleased with himself.

As he began stroking his thumb along your knuckles, he cautiously pulled his gaze up to your face, looking at you like you’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

His hands were resting on his thighs and, almost unconsciously, you reached out to grab the one closest to you and squeeze it lightly.

He stared down at it for a few seconds, eventually turning his hand over and squeezing back.

You could barely even remember what happened next. You remember the back of your neck tingling, your stomach tightening almost to the point of becoming painful, the feeling of Bucky’s rough, calloused hand against your cheek and the way your heart jumped when he leaned towards you and pressed his mouth against yours.

Eventually pulling away, he buried his face in your neck, planting short kisses along your jawline between laboured breaths. You pushed his head back against the seat and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and letting your hands dance down his chest.

It was slow and tender at first, but it quickly picked up, becoming feverish and passionate.

He threw his arms around your waist and roughly pulled you over onto his lap, holding you so tight to his chest that you couldn’t tell whose heart you could feel thumping like a steam engine.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve done that.’ He sighed, bringing a hand up to bury itself in your hair.

‘Me too.’ Your mouth curled into a smile. ‘It’s been even longer for other stuff.’

Melting into each other in a cacophony of limbs and flesh and tearing clothes, both of you eventually found the release you so desperately needed.

There was a loaded silence, you opened your eyes to see Bucky staring at you intently, wearing an expression that made your toes curl.

You dived clumsily into the backseat and pulled him after you, giggling as you both adjusted yourselves, trying to get even slightly comfortable in such a tight space.

And both of you did all you could to savour the feeling of finally having someone to hold close.

---

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hi-dread · 4 years

Text

Mirko x Reader

Foreword

This story is a fanfic of Boku no Hero Academia and the rabbit hero Mirko, also known as Rumi Usagiyama.

I chose to write it in first person, mostly because I want to add something to my life which I cannot get besides in my fantasy. I hope you enjoy reading this and do not find it cringe.

The following part of this, is just a bit backstory on me/the reader that will end up meeting Mirko. If you don’t care about the backstory (since it is pretty long) you can just skip it. Since my childhood, I always felt like that one kid in school that was always alone, even if they wanted to reach out for people. I did have a few friends that I hung out with at and after school. We usually played soccer whenever we had a lunchbreak or when we could do anything but assignments. I had a lot of fun (or so I thought), and when I had the time I would ask one of my “friends” if they wanted to play/hang out after school and most of the time they said yes. I preferred being at their house than at mine. I always felt awkward being home with a friend. Not that my mom or siblings were embarrassing in any way. I just didn’t have as many things as the friends I hung out with had. When we got to their house, we either played soccer in their backyard or played video games. Be it Call of Duty, Mario Kart or Sims. I was down for anything, even if I had to watch them play. I enjoyed my time being there. But as much fun as it seemed, I did not expect this to happen. I was persuaded into going to a soccer tournament since they lacked a few players, especially in the defense. I didn’t really have any high hopes for the tournament because I knew I would be lopped with the bad team and we lost 9 out of 10 games, if we were lucky that is. As I expected, we got destroyed in the first match with a whopping score of 0-23. The second game wasn’t as bad, but still quite a bit, since we lost that with a score of 0-15. There was a third game, but I am unsure if there was a fourth game. Well, that doesn’t really matter in the end since we lost in the end. When the entire tournament was over, my birthday came up. It was all nice and good, but a few days after that, I suddenly felt a severe stinging pain in my left foot. I didn’t know what it was, all I could say is that I hurt so bad that I couldn’t walk, so I had to lend some crutches from my cousin. As usual when something is hurting and it won’t go away after a week, I went to the doctor, they touched my foot and I nearly cry in pain. They send me to get an x-ray scan of the foot. Nothing showed up, so they sent me to the HR, which for those who don’t know what that is, it’s just a huge machine, making a lot of noise which will show pictures of the scanned object in a more detailed way. As I hoped it would show something, they said there was not anything wrong with the foot. At this the doctors were quite annoyed with my presence and my persistence of the pain in my foot. So, after 4 months of agonizing pain and a very bad start of a new school year, I was referred to a new hospital where they saw the old x-scan of my foot and showed me it. I could clearly see my foot was broken. They wanted to do a rescan of my foot to see how much it was healed and then they wanted to put a cast on it. I was happy they figured what was wrong out and that they helped me, but what was missing was my absence in school. Most of my classmates knew as much as I did, maybe less, but they kept asking me if they could use my crutches. I gave them permission. But there was also those who felt as if I were getting too much attention and even said to me that there was nothing wrong with my foot and I should stop walking with the crutches. As many would have thought, I thought the same; “how rude”. I shrugged it off.

Eventually, the cast would be taken off and I had to learn how to walk again. As I regained my mobility, I slowly lost my interest in other things. My social life slowly dwindled, and I stopped going to soccer since I felt it got too serious and I didn’t get anywhere (mostly because I was put on the losing team). One and a half year went by and I got into a new class. Everything seemed fine and I was in an association of runners and I ran a few times a week to keep up my physique. But as I was out running on a Sunday, my knee suddenly felt dull and painful. I must note I did not even run 500 meters. But as the pain grew, my mobility in my knee fell. It locked itself in place and I could barely bend it. I told the others I could not keep going and they should just go without me and I would go back to where we started. I limbed back, sat down, yet still having pain. A week went by, and I was forced back on crutches and I was unable to have anything on my knee because even that felt painful. Same deal as before, I went to the doctors, they scanned it. Both x-ray and HR, but nothing had any results. 6 months later my doctor referred me to a private hospital where the doctor, after a few ‘tests’ knew exactly who I should go to because he has dealt with patients with similar symptoms. After I met the new doctor, he gave me some meds and they worked for around 3 months. In the 3 months, I could wear normal jeans, walk, and run properly, but after those months went by, it was back to the crutches. I was hospitalized a month after the fallback and was in rehabilitation. I got some tasks I had to do to fix the pain, even though they didn’t make sense. They basically told me I had to rub my knee with a towel for 60 seconds 3 times with a 30-60 second interval. Long story short, it worked, and I didn’t have any pain after the 4 weeks at the hospital. Though, I was forced to take some medicine, but as long as I didn’t feel any pain and I could walk, I was happy. I finished school after one and a half years with decent grades. Nothing I could do much about since I am not the best at the oral exams, though I was happy with the results. I went to high school, hoping everything would turn out well, but the knee pain came back. I’d say I had a “great” start on high school if you ask me. Even though my mom was very concerned about my grades and how well it went at school, I somehow pulled through. Even the 3 years prior with an absence percentage of more than 50%. The only reason I could pull through these agonizing years was thanks to anime and manga. Since my knee pain would pull me out of school and tear apart my social life, even if I didn’t even have any to begin with, I felt some kind of joy with reading manga and watch anime when I could. Even though the first 2 years of high school felt like hell, I finished a few classes and got a better exam grade than some of my other classmates. It went well and as I was frequently going to a psychologist, reason being my knee pain (it’s mostly mental (think of phantom pain, then you’d understand, I hope)), but also because they found out I had suicidal thoughts. Even though I had those thoughts, I didn’t try to do anything since I had grown an anxiety for pain. But as I was going back and forth at the psychologists, they managed to find out I had a severe depression and might’ve had it for more than 6 years (at that point, I already knew I had a depression, but didn’t have the diagnose) and they also found out I had autism, not much, but enough to give me the diagnose Asperger’s Syndrome. I was fine with it, yet they didn’t give me many tools to deal with my depression, but I had my anime and manga, so I still had some hope.

Enjoy.

Chapter 1: What I desire

Well, now that we have that sappy story out of the way, we’re back to the present, where I am still dealing with a severe depression, not finding an end to it. Well, the pain I have in the knee has come back, but not as severe as it used to be. I go to the gym on a regular basis. It used to be 5 times a week, but my psychologist thought it would be best if I went there 3 times a week instead. Before the pandemic hit I would do a lot of stomach exercises and work with my knee, but after all the precautions, I can’t do many of them, so I chose to just run with a pace of 9 km/h or 6 mi/h for 20 minutes for the last 10, I’d increase it to 10 km/h. When I am done with that, I’d do some sit-ups and pull-ups for around 20 minutes. When I tell people that I go to the gym a few times a week, there’s always the follow up question “Then you must like it, right?”, but that’s actually not the case. I despise it, but I must do it, so I have been told, that is. The reason why I actually run for 30 minutes is because I watched the anime Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru (Run With the Wind). It seemed inspiring how they were running and the amount of fun they had with it, so I wanted that too. I envied the fun they had when they were running together. But thanks to the diagnosis – my Asperger’s – I cannot feel any human emotions, such as happiness, sadness, or anger. For me, I am just confused. But now I have a new goal for my workout. I have been reading Boku no Hero Academia – almost from when it was released – and have enjoyed it ever since. But one day, a certain hero was introduced. Yes, Rumi Usagiyama, the rabbit hero: Mirko. When she first appeared in the hero ranking right after All Might’s fight vs AFO, she has been on my mind a lot. Her cocky line, her daring attitude, and her epic hero entrance when Endeavor beat the first HE Nomu, give me goosebumps. The way she fights and how she is as a hero, always working to fight villains and to protect civilians, is something I look up to. She is my hero, and maybe my waifu. So much as I want merch of her. But don’t get me wrong, I am well aware that she’s out of my league and I am just a very unlucky kid, plus I live in a world where quirks don’t exist. She’s a fictional character and I am a person who reads Japanese comics for fun. But I can at least try to do my best to look fit and be in shape and prepare myself for what will happen next.

To be continued.

#mirko x reader #rumi usagiyama #mirko #rabbit hero: mirko #mha miruko #miruko #bnha miruko #BNHA: Mirko #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 35 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet’s promotion became official, and Bianca set her sights on a certain blonde.

This Chapter: Violet begins her new job, and things are not exactly what she expected.

***

Even though everything was technically all the same, Violet felt like she had walked into a completely different building.

She had greeted Roxy with a smile, the receptionist at her desk when Violet had walked in at 9:30 for her visit with HR, people actually present unlike when Violet usually came in at the crack of dawn. Trixie had insisted that she take a slow morning, almost forbidding her to come in with the rest of the floor, and Violet guessed that it made sense since it was her first day.

Violet walked out of the elevator, her heels clacking on the floor, her stomach filled with butterflies.

Her morning had been a lot more messy than she preferred. She had changed her clothes a million times, unsure what to wear, until she had finally settled on a simple long sleeved top and a full skirt. It was completely Fame approved, but Violet felt comfortable in it, none of it too flashy or attention grabbing. Violet knew how to use a sewing machine in heels, but she still had a pair of flats in her bag, just in case someone truly cared about the company's safety guidelines.

She paused in front of the door, smoothing down her skirt, one, two, three times, before grabbing the handle and opening the door to the first day of the rest of her life.

“Violet!” Trixie smiled brightly, standing up from where he had been leaning over Gia’s shoulder, who was somehow still miraculously working at the company - even after her screw up in the Fall. “Welcome! I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Oh,” Violet stopped. She couldn’t remember ever being greeted with so much enthusiasm when coming into work, but it was nice, very nice. “I’m happy to be here?”

“Yes you are,” Trixie grinned, walking over to her, the man wearing a somewhat ridiculous white t-shirt with a pink and blue band logo Violet didn’t recognise. “We’re going to have so much fun, but first, Everyone!”

Trixie clapped his hands, catching the attention of the entire department who all turned to them.

“This is Violet Chachki, you all already know her as Fame’s assistant,” Trixie smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Say hi.”

“Hello,” Violet said, lifting her hand in greeting. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, the whole thing horribly embarrassing, everyone looking at her. Violet wasn’t unused to attention, but she disliked it heavily when it was focused on her person, and not on something she had created.

She attempted a smile, doing her very best not to let anyone know how awkward she felt.

“She is going to be working with us now here in the best department of Galactica!” Trixie released her, earning a laugh from everyone. “I want you all to make her feel welcome and settled since we all know what it was like to be new,” he finished with a lot of them looking on with slight smiles and waves.

“You got it coach!”

Violet turned to look at the source of the voice, an incredibly tall bald man with a gigantic smile and a raspy voice the one who had called out. Violet recognized Bob, who was the design department's project manager, though she didn’t think she had ever seen him in Fame’s office.

“Let me show you around.” Trixie looped their arms together, dragging Violet with him before she had the chance to put down her bag, or even take off her jacket.

The design floor was a myriad of various fabrics in countless colors and prints with a multitude of textures to choose from.

Dress forms, in an assortment of sizes, lined the walls under large glass windows that brought in natural light and a beautiful view, of the east side, of Central Park.

The floor had neat rows of long work tables each with their own computers, drawing sections, sewing machines, hanging dress form and a rolling stool.

“Aaaaaaaand this, is your desk!” Trixie smiled brightly, throwing an arm out as he showed Violet her place.

“What…” Violet looked at the big collage that was put right in the middle. “Is that?”

“Right?” Trixie grinned, clearly very proud of himself “I made it for you.”

“Oh…” Violet bit her lip, unease welling up in her body. The gesture was kind, but it was strange to see so many pictures of herself, most of all because she had no idea when most of them had actually been taken. “Thank you.” She was sure she could stuff it in her drawer later, the paper looking sturdy enough to be shoved down there.

“Don’t mention it,” Trixie gave her a halfarm hug, holding her against his side for a minute. “Now, next on the agenda- Jovan, pay attention.”

“Sure thing coach.”

Violet watched as Jovan turned around, the man sitting backwards on his chair, one of his long limbs pulled up in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position.

“Hello.” Jovan smiled, a gigantic white toothed grin on his face. He was bald, the top of his head somehow not smooth like Bob’s, but instead sort of wrinkly.

“Jovan will be your desk mate.”

Violet had wondered who she’d be seated next to, and while she had never actually spoken to Jovan, he wasn’t her worst option.

“Hello,” Violet held out her hand, “I’m Violet.”

“Please,” Jovan snorted, grabbing her hand in a surprisingly hard grip. “I already know who you are.”

“Jovan is one of our contemporary designers.”

Violet nodded, hiding a smile. It was clear as day that Jovan was in contemporary, his shirt a multicolored almost neon asymmetrical tunic.

“One of the best,” Jovan squeezed her hand, letting it go, “contemporary designers. Don’t touch my stuff, and I promise that you and I will get along great.”

“Jovan-” Trixie started scolding, but Violet cut in.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Violet put her bag on the table. She had never seen Trixie scold anyone, but judging by the furrow of his brow, Jovan was toeing the line.

“What’s on the agenda, coach?” Jovan had somehow managed to cross his legs around the chair, a pencil dangling from his mouth.

“Oh,” Trixie smiled, and Violet reached inside her bag, grabbing her notebook. “Violet has the morning off.”

“Wha-” Violet paused, unsure if she had heard Trixie correctly. “Excuse me, what did you say?” It was only Monday, but Violet knew that design had their weekly department wide meetings every Thursday, and if she was being honest, she had expected to be thrown directly into the work, the Christmas collection just around the corner.

“The morning off.” Trixie grinned. “Decorate your desk, say hi to everyone, get all your little knick knacks in order and later we’ll have cake to celebrate your first day.”

***

Jovan groaned slightly. He was supposed to be working on the holiday collection but he just couldn’t seem to find an interesting angle.

Jovan didn’t like making gowns, and though he had managed once or twice to sneak in a pants suit or something mildly interesting, Raja and Fame had a clear almost inarguable preference towards high classic glamor when it came to the holidays.

He flipped back and forth between his sketches, pencil in his mouth, erasing a line here of adding one there. After a bit, he sensed a disturbance in the energy, his attention shifted slightly across the table to his new deskmate.

Violet was sitting at her desk, tapping her nails on the wood, her lip between her teeth as she was looking out on the department. She was practically radiating nervous energy, her desk already all neatly set up.

Jovan noticed a leather bound planner, a collection of pens and pencils in an empty Dior box, a thick stack of sketching paper, as well as a well stocked sewing kit, a golden pair of scissors sticking out.

She seemed to be in worse shape than he was, clearly not used to being given idle creative time, and Jovan smiled slightly, deciding to take pity on her.

“Hey, Violet.” Jovan pushed his chair out, scooting over to her table. “I’m working on this dress,” Jovan put his sketches down on Violet’s desk, “and I can’t figure out the hem length. Will you check it out?”

“Oh, um, sure…” Violet leaned over the desk table, pushing a bit of her hair behind her ear. Jovan hadn’t noticed the bracelet or her rings before, the golden jewelry clearly well worn, but also well taken care of. “What’s the problem?”

“See, I’m trying it three different ways, but they all feel wrong...” Jovan tapped his sketches, already enjoying how seriously Violet considered the question, examining each sketch closely and looking at them back and forth a few times before attempting an answer.

“I like the length on the second one, but the shoulders on the third one might balance it out more,” she finally said, and he smiled.

“Yeah, good call, thanks!” Jovan stretched, yawning slightly. He was already feeling much better, but Violet still looked lost.

“I need caffeine.” Jovan stood up. “You wanna come for some espresso or a latte or something?”

“Oh.” Violet looked genuinely surprised at his request, sneaking a quick glaze at Trixie’s closed office door before she made up her mind. “Um, alright…” Violet reached for her coat, but Jovan stopped her.

“No,” Jovan smiled. “I just mean the espresso machine we have in the break room.” Jovan pointed over his shoulder, Violet following his fingers, her brow furrowing. “You did know that we have a break room down here, right?”

Jovan had heard the rumor that Fame only drank Starbucks, though he hadn’t imagined that her assistants shared the luxury, but Violet shook her head, the woman both looking mystified and curious, and Jovan realised that he had never actually seen her in any of the Galactica break rooms ever.

“Come on,” Jovan grabbed her elbow, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll show you.”

***

“Stop, omigod, I can’t breathe,” Maxwell wheezed, clutching Bob’s shoulder and practically choking with laughter at his boyfriend’s story.

“No, but listen. Then Acid turned to him and-”

Maxwell reached up and covered Bob’s mouth with his hand, having just spotted Jovan strolling towards the break room with Violet in tow.

“Incoming mole,” he warned, giving a nod with his head.

Maxwell had been working at Galactica for his entire career - over ten years now. He’d seen many assistants come and go from Miss Fame’s office.

Most of the time, they moved on to other jobs in the industry, working for buyers or as stylists. Occasionally, they were promoted within the company. Shangela had started off as Fame’s assistant years ago, and so had Laganja in marketing. But this was the first time anyone had been sent to design. Granted, Violet was one of the more competent and longer-lasting assistants, but still.

He was suspicious.

Bob seemed perfectly ready to welcome Violet to the family with open arms. Maxwell, on the other hand, was more cautious, and the last thing he wanted was for Violet to walk in on some debaucherous story about drag queens.

“Look professional!” he hissed, before removing his hand.

“First of all, I’m always professional. And second, would you relax?” Bob smirked, leaning against the table, his favorite mug in hand. “She seems perfectly nice.”

“Oh please,” Maxwell huffed, “You just want upstairs gossip.”

For as long as Bob has been at the company--nearly as long as Maxwell, he’d been utterly fascinated with senior management. Their weird quirks and tempestuous moods, all the tabloid nonsense.

“Uh!” Bob gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “I resent that!”

“Well, resent it or not, it’s true,” Maxwell quipped.

“You name one time when I’ve been the source of gossip around here,” Bob said, a hand on his hip, in full queen mode.

“That’s...what...all the time!” Maxwell sputtered, caught off guard by that ridiculous defense. Bob was a notorious gossip. He was the only person Maxwell knew who still talked on the phone with multiple people every day, for fun. It was half the reason why they’d never moved in together, Maxwell unable to imagine living with Bob’s need to talk on the phone for hours in the evening. Maxwell enjoyed people too, sometimes, but after work, he more often than not wanted some peace and solitude.

“So you can’t name one specific time? Interesting.” Bob’s brown eyes glittered with amusement, always the happiest when he was in teasing mode.

“You’re impossible!” Maxwell turned to Jovan, who was now busy with the espresso machine. “Bob says he’s not a gossip.”

“Ha!” Jovan snorted. “Violet, what do you want?”

“An americano is more than fine.” Violet smiled, and Maxwell realised that he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen that expression on the former assistants face before.

He had never spoken with her before, Ivy always the assistant who came along to the design meetings, but he had seen her follow Fame down the halls, and he still remembered how bad he had felt for her during Fame’s temperature meltdown at their September show.

“Violet, Violet, Violet,” Bob put a hand down, turning his body towards her. “Do not listen to them.” Bob pouting at both Maxwell and Jovan. “I’m not a gossip. I’m a very trustworthy confidante, so if you have anything you need to share about, you know, upstairs...I’m all ears.” Bob grinned.

“Ah!” Maxwell cried triumphantly, “Case in fucking point you fucking gossip!”

“Upstairs?” Violet looked genuinely confused for a moment.

“You know,” Bob pointed at the ceiling, “Upstairs.”

“Ah.”

Maxwell made a face at Bob, clearing his throat slightly.

Why did he have to reveal everything right away? They didn’t know how trustworthy this girl was yet, and so they should really assume zero percent. It was the only safe and logical conclusion.

“Sorry, assistant code,” said Violet with an apologetic shrug. “My lips are sealed”

“Wow. Okay, I see how it is,” Bob said, and Maxwell rolled his eyes.

“Honestly Bob, what if she’d come down here and started reporting all kinds of rumors? Wouldn’t that make you concerned?” he asked, reaching up to tug on on Bob’s ear.

“Concerned…. Entertained… Potato, potahto.” Bob grinned, taking another sip from his mug.

“Goddammit,” Jovan said, struggling with the machine. “Cracks, can you help me? This fucking thing, we need a new one-”

“Sure.” Maxwell stepped over to the machine to assist. He remembered when Trixie first got it for them, almost six years ago, how everyone had just gone crazy over it. But lately it was acting up, and the designers were not pleased when they needed to wait an extra 30 seconds for coffee. The company should really take care of it before there was some kind of mutiny. He made a mental note to talk to Trixie later.

“So, Violet,” Bob continued, “How’s it going? Is our boy Jovan being cool, or is he in one of his moods?”

“Fuck off,” Jovan cut in, sitting down heavily. “I’m fucking delightful.”

Maxwell chuckled to himself over that, Jovan’s stormy moods something everyone in the department knew intimately.

“He’s been very kind,” Violet said, her hand gripping the edge of her skirt.

“Yeah, yeah.” Bob smiled, rolling his eyes. “Look, Violet, let me give you some advice,” Bob turned to Jovan. “You’ve gotta pay attention to that big vein in his forehead, and when it starts popping out...run.”

“Oh.”

“Eat a dick, Bob.”

“Yours?” Bob looked down, leering at Max’s brown khakis, a grin on his face, “Or like, any dick?” Bob teased, wiggling his brows. “Either way, I’m down.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes, giving Bob a Look intended to say ‘not in mixed company,’ gesturing towards Violet, the poor girl probably scandalized by this kind of talk, judging from her ramrod straight posture and demurely folded hands.

He turned to Jovan for backup, only to find him sitting at one of the tables, big wrinkly head in his hands. Maxwell tapped him on the shoulder, hoping to help him avoid an existential crisis before eleven am.

“How’s the Hanukkah dress?” Maxwell asked, which is what he’d been jokingly calling the blue cocktail number that poor Jovan was working on. Jovan rolled his eyes.

“Killing me. Violet had a good idea though, so I guess I’ll try that.”

“Are you gonna embroider a menorah on the front?” Maxwell teased.

“No, I was thinking that the skirt would just be a giant dreidel.”

Maxwell laughed at that, though truth be told, you could never be too sure with Jovan. He might just do it.

“Did Coach assign you anything yet, Violet?” Bob asked.

“No..” Violet tilted her head. “Is there a reason you call him that?”

“Oh. Yeah. So, Trixie’s the only straight guy around here-”

“Straight identified,” Maxwell corrected, and Violet snorted, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“Yeah, so, we like to give him shit. We call him Coach. You know...” Bob made his hand into a fist and punched Violet very lightly on the shoulder, deepening his voice. “Coach!”

“He’s the only straight guy, and of course he’s the one in charge of the department,” Jovan added pointedly.

“Well, yes, there’s also that,” Bob chuckled. “Anyway, have you gotten an assignment for the holiday collection? I’ve seen some pictures of your student stuff,” Trixie had dropped by with Violet’s portfolio, shoving it to Bob who had loved flipping through it. “I assumed you’d be doing gowns most of the time.”

“No-” Violet opened her mouth, but then seemed to rethink it, and close it again. “Not yet.”

“So...Chachki,” Maxwell said, handing her coffee over. “Are you Jewish?”

“No,” Violet said simply, and Bob burst out laughing.

“She said nope,” he giggled, popping the p.

“Well, where are you from? What’s your deal? Tell us everything,” Maxwell continued, undeterred by Bob’s laughter.

“Oh. Um… There’s not much to tell. I graduated from Parsons a few years ago. I’m originally from Atlanta-”

“Hey! Me too!” Bob exclaimed. “I’m from Clayton County. Where’d you go to high school?”

“-But I’ve been in New York since I was 13.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

“I got a job working for Miss Fame, and...that’s about it.” Violet looked around, her lip between her teeth.

“Wow. Fascinating,”

“Sorry, I’m not very interesting.”

“No no,” Maxwell said. “You should write a memoir.”

“Omigod, she’s like twelve years old, leave her alone,” Bob said. “In case you haven’t noticed, Violet, these guys are a mess and you should ignore 98% of everything they say.”

Bob put his arm around Maxwell, squeezing him affectionately even as the insults rolled off his tongue.

“And what about you?” Maxwell asked.

“Me?” Bob asked. “Oh, fully same.”

***

“What,” Violet was staring at the table, a brown concoction staring right back at her, “on earth is this?”

“You never seen one before?” Alexis smiled, getting in next to her, “They call it a cronut, girl. Everyone in the city is obsessed with them,” she grabbed one, “and they’re delicious.”

Violet had spent lunch with Alexis, Gia and April, the three women slipping back and forth between English and Spanish, their conversation practically impossible to follow, but Violet hadn’t minded.

It had been incredibly nice to just sit with someone for lunch without constantly checking her phone, Violet unsure if she had ever actually had an uninterrupted lunch break at Galactica before.

“Huh.” Violet bit her lip, still not too sure about the offered treat. “Are we already-”

“Hey, Violet-” Violet turned her head to see Blu slip in next to her, a big smile on the Irish woman's beautiful face. Her ginger hair was pushed back with a hairband, her grey eyes attentive and kind. “Are you coming to the happy hour?”

“Happy hour?”

“Mmh,” Blu nodded, “a couple of us always go round the corner for a pint on Mondays at 5:30. You know, for bonding and stuff.”

“Huh.” Violet bit her lip. She had seen Blu and Gia working that morning, but it seemed strange to her that they were expecting to be let go at 5:30, the whole thing even stranger since both Blu and Gia were actively enjoying the pastries.

“So, you coming?”

“Oh, no,” Violet did her best to smile, to look genuinely apologetic. “I can’t.”

Sutan had texted her about whether or not she wanted to come over after work, and Violet couldn’t wait to cuddle up on the couch, tucked safe and sound under Sutan’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Blu smiled, though Violet wasn’t sure it actually was based on the look in her eyes, “You can come next time-”

“Violet!” Blu was cut off as Trixie came over, “Blu! Are you enjoying the cronuts?”

“Yes boss,” Blu held up her cronut, over half of it gone. “It’s delicious.”

“Have you had any, Violet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Here.” Trixie grabbed a plate, quickly scooping one up for her. “It’s pumpkin chai this month!”

“Thanks.” Violet took it, unsure what to do. It wasn’t that she hated all desserts, wasn’t that she hated all sweets, but what she did hate was trying new things when she was feeling nervous, and even though everyone had been beyond kind to her so far, she couldn’t help the unsettling feeling in her stomach that something wasn’t right.

“I can’t wait to see your finished blouse,” Trixie was smiling, his hand on Blu’s arm. “I’m counting on you.”

“Mmh,” Blu nodded, pride in her eyes, and Trixie gave her one last squeeze, clearly intending to walk on and make sure everyone was having a good time.

“Trixie-” Violet took a step forward, her now boss turning around to look at her.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, if I could-” Violet wanted to throw herself out the window, the entire thing so terribly awkward, the fact that she was daring to even consider questioning her boss’ process, “it’s about the holiday collection-”

“Oh, that silly thing?” Trixie laughed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But,” Violet took another step forward, “I’d like to, like to worry, that is-”

“You’ll watch the design meeting on Thursday, see how things are done around here.” Trixie smiled. “Ease into it, take it slow.”

“But I have an idea for-” Violet didn’t know if she was allowed, but she had already picked up a few of the unfavored fabric swatches, a white silk and some crushed red velvet so to Fame’s taste that she knew she had to give it a try.

“If you really want to speed things up, you can spend tomorrow shadowing April.”

“Really?” It wasn’t what Violet truly wanted, but anything, literally anything, would be better than another day of ‘taking it slow’.

“It’ll be perfect for you,” Trixie smiled, “I promise.”

Trixie then took a bite of the cronut in his hand, his eyes going wide. He turned from Violet to call out, “Kimberly! Kim, did you try these pumpkin chai cronuts?! Oh my god...”

As her boss wandered off to wax poetic about his pastry, Violet dug her fingers into her palm. Wasn’t this department supposed to be the lifeblood of the company? Why was everyone so chill?

Violet tried to be positive, tried to believe that Trixie was only doing what he thought best for her, but she couldn’t help wondering if she was still working for Galactica, the feeling of utterly uselessness washing over her for the first time since she had started at the company.

***

“Are you feeling chopsticks or fork?”

“Fork please.”

“Of course.” Violet smiled as Sutan began to dig through his cutlery drawer, soft jazz playing from the radio in the window. She had gotten somewhat used to seeing him without his suits in Paris, early morning Sutan walking around in pajama pants and t-shirts for as long as he could, but there was something special about seeing him in casual chinos and the sweaters he seemed to favor now that it was getting colder outside.

They were in his kitchen, Violet sitting at the table. When she had come over, Sutan had been setting up in the dining room, but she had asked him if they could please sit in the kitchen instead, the room so much cosier and lived in than the dining room.

Violet had been looking forward to her first day in design since she started at Galactica, but now that she had gotten there, it felt like a hollow victory.

She was sure tomorrow would be better, that it’d be more meaningful, but for now, she just wanted to spend time with the man she really genuinely liked.

“Here you go.” Sutan handed her the fork. “You know,” Sutan smirked, crossing his arms, “You should really learn how to use chopsticks.”

“I know how to use chopsticks,” Violet looked up at Sutan, putting her fork down. “I just prefer not to.”

“Sure lovely eyes.” Sutan grinned, grabbing the back of her chair, leaning down to kiss her, when the doorbell rang.

“Ah,” Sutan gave her a quick peck, his lips tasting faintly like peppermint with an undercurrent of cigarettes, his eyes sparkling.

“That must be the food.” Sutan stood up, reaching into his pocket for a wad of cash Violet hadn’t even noticed. “Do you mind finishing setting the table?”

“Of course not.” Violet stood herself as Sutan walked out, and she quickly crossed the room, opening the cabinet she knew housed Sutan’s plates.

The request hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary, Violet helping more often than not, but as she actually looked at the kitchen table, she realized what she had accidentally said yes to.

Sutan’s laptop was sitting in the middle, but besides that, the table was covered in work stuff, Sutan’s laptop, headshots, what Violet could only assume was contracts, folders and modeling portfolios spread all over.

She couldn’t see any kind of system, and if she had been at work she wouldn’t have dared to move a single thing, but Sutan had asked her to take care of it, and take care of it she would.

Violet knew Sutan had an office, but she had never actually seen him use it, or heard him mention it. Violet felt weird moving Sutan’s work things, but as she quickly piled it all on one end of the table, she recognized that this was probably why she liked the kitchen so much.

It was obviously the place in the apartment Sutan used the most, and the one she instinctively felt was more Sutan than Raja; everywhere else, even Sutan’s own bedroom, so obviously designed and furnished by his twin.

It was a strange thought that Raja had so much influence on Sutan’s life, but it wasn’t something she was ever going to bring up, their relationship none of her business.

Violet was just a moment in time for Sutan, so who was she to make any sort of suggestion about anything.

“Ah, great.” She was just setting the plates, when Sutan returned with more takeout bags than Violet had ever expected. “You’re almost done.”

“Are we expecting company?”

“Company?” Sutan looked confused for a moment, and Violet nodded her head towards the food in his arms, which caused him to laugh. “Please. This is just for us.” Sutan put the bags down, opening up the first one. “I figured it was worth celebrating your first day.”

“Huh.” Violet sat down on her chair once again, watching as Sutan produced one white cardboard carton after another. “How much did you get?”

“Oh you know, just a little bit of everything. I have dumplings, wontons and egg rolls, chow mein, orange chicken, beef and broccoli, black pepper scallops, garlic eggplant. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Violet didn’t want to tell Sutan that she only had a very limited idea of what she genuinely liked beyond orange chicken and white rice, a childhood of bland suburban chain restaurants and her years in New York on a tight budget never leaving her much room for indulgence.

“Interesting.” Violet bit her lip, but Sutan grinned, continuing the unpacking. “Have you ever heard of cronuts?”

“What?” Sutan paused, a carton in hand. He turned to her, an eyebrow raised. “Lovely eyes. I may be older than you, but I don’t live under a rock?”

“Hmm.” Violet had no idea that cronuts were apparently so well known, but she wasn’t going to show Sutan that. “We had them at work today.”

“Did you like them?”

“Not really.” Violet took the carton of rice Sutan handed her. “They take a lot of breaks, at work, I mean.”

“Sounds like a nice place.” Sutan smiled, sitting down.

VIolet nodded, opening her rice as Sutan started talking about his day. It was always nice to be around him, Sutan often chatting away in his low baritone, filling out the silence so Violet never felt obligated to speak if she didn’t want to.

“Oh-” Sutan paused, a piece of broccoli in his chopsticks. “That reminds me. What are you wearing on Friday?”

“Friday?” Violet quickly ran through her week in her head, and she was fairly certain that she had nothing on the agenda for friday.

“Yes? For Bianca’s birthday.”

“Bianca’s birthday? Bianca Del Rio?”

“Mmh.” Sutan popped the broccoli in his mouth, quickly chewing it. “It’s her 40th, and I figured it’d be nice if we coordinated.”

“Oh.” Violet bit her lip. Surprised that Sutan was dumping it on her like this, since she knew for a fact that he hadn’t mentioned it until this very moment. “And the birthday is this Friday?”

Violet tried to hide her anxiety, her heart speeding up in her chest. She didn’t have any idea what the dress code was and what to wear or where the party was being held.

“I can invite someone else?”

“What?” Violet’s head snapped up at the words. Sutan looked completely relaxed, like he hadn’t just dropped a gigantic bomb, like this wasn’t strange at all, like it was normal for him to have so many girls lined up that he could find someone with no problem at all.

“If you don’t want to go-”

“No, no.” Violet closed her hand, digging her fingers into her palm under the table. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #vitan #bob x cracker #violet chachki #trixie mattel #yvie oddly #bob the drag queen #miz cracker #blu hydrangea #raja gemini #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au

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yourcoffindoor · 4 years

Text

Paper Pushers

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Summary: This is a fluff/angst fic that ended up longer than I was anticipating. You work in the same office as Gerard, but you’ve never really noticed him until you end up working together on one of your assignments. Pre bullets era. Feedback is welcome!

Word Count: 1,787

If you had to scan one more document, you were going to go insane. Somehow the role of administrative assistant meant ‘dump any work you don’t want to do on me’ to every other employee in the office, and since you were relatively new and friendless, you didn’t quite have the courage to say no.

The task of archiving all documents from ‘97 to '01 was monumental, and despite your best efforts, the boxes of unorganized paperwork seemed to multiply each day. It was also isolating—until it was complete you spent 5 out of your 8 hour days trapped alone in the archiving room. You were just about ready to create an imaginary friend when someone gently knocked on the archiving room door one Wednesday morning.

“Come in!” you shouted from behind a mountain of paperwork, hoping desperately that it wouldn’t cause an avalanche and bury you alive in sheets of A4.

The door opened, and the dark haired boy from a few cubicles down, Gerard, poked his head in. “Y/N?” he called out.

“Follow my voice!” you shouted jokingly, “And leave a trail of breadcrumbs or you’ll never find your way out again.”

You heard him laugh softly as he approached, and before you knew it he was right in front of you.

“I finished some of my other work early and thought I might be able to help. Judging by your comments, you could use the extra hand.”

You looked up at him to respond, but got caught off guard and paused. You never really noticed just how pretty he was, and you couldn’t help but admire his round hazel eyes and the thick dark lashes that seemed to frame them perfectly.

“Um. I’d love that.” you said, your sudden nerves making you noticeably less eloquent.

He smiled. Shit. His smile made him look even better. Why were you just noticing this now?

“Awesome. Tell me where I can start so I don’t royally fuck things up for you.”

You pointed to an open box to your left. “You see those papers there? They need to be sorted into planned or reactive work-orders.”

Gerard eyed the formidable stacks that awaited him and tucked a stray strand of black hair behind his ear. “I think I can handle that.”

“Sorry you got stuck helping with all of this,” you said after a few minutes of silence, “I know there’s probably other things you’d rather be doing.”

“Don’t sweat it. Besides,” he said in a soft, almost bashful voice, “I uh, asked if I could help you out.”

You felt a blush settle on your cheeks, but you played it off. “I don’t blame you. I mean, who could resist the fast-paced thrills of paper filing.”

He laughed, making you wonder if it was possible to get addicted to someone’s smile. It had only been a few minutes but you couldn’t get enough of it.

You and Gerard spent the next hour getting to know each other, and every week afterwards you looked forward to his appearances. He would stop in whenever he was free, and you talked and laughed so loudly that you worried what other people outside the archiving room must be thinking.

He told you about his family and his brother Mikey, as well as his dreams of doing something important with his life, the possibility of staring a band, and his love of comic books.

“Hey listen,” Gerard said one afternoon after sorting through a stack of ledgers, “are you going to that after work drinks thing on Friday with a few other people from the office? I don’t usually, but I thought it might be nice to hang out outside of this room.” He looked down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Normally you would pass on a work outing, since it would almost guarantee awkward small talk, but you weren’t about to say no to more time with Gerard.

“I’d like that a lot. Where and what time?”

“Cloudland at 6:30. I’ll save you a seat.”

“I’ll be there.”

*** *** ***

You rushed straight home from work on Friday, and spent so long getting ready to meet Gerard that you didn’t have time to eat dinner. Or maybe you were too nervous to eat, you weren’t entirely sure.

Once you made it to Cloudland, you scanned the busy venue for any sight of your coworkers. You spotted Gerard sitting at a large booth with a few other colleagues, and he waved you over.

“You made it!” His face lit up with a wide but crooked smile.

“Just in time for Janice’s amazing vocals.” you said, looking over to the small karaoke stage where Janice from HR was drunkenly delivering her off-key rendition of 'I Will Always Love You.’

“You look nice,” he said, grabbing you a beer, “you should get out of the archiving room more often.”

“You clean up pretty good yourself.” You teased back, and you felt butterflies as he peeked at you through a stray strand of hair that covered one of his hazel eyes.

You spent the evening drinking and talking, forgetting that not only had you not eaten, you were a notorious lightweight when it came to alcohol. And the more beer you drank, the bolder you became.

“You should get up there,” you blurted to Gerard as another inebriated singer finished screeching onstage, “You should sing. You told me you wanna start a band right? Show me whatcha got!”

There was no denying you were very drunk as you playfully punched Gerard in the arm. He protested initially, but got up to appease you when he realized resistance was futile.

Once on stage, the strobe lights on the ceiling painted him a rainbow of colors, making him even more beautiful. Gerard cleared his throat into the mic.

“This one’s dedicated to Y/N,” he said with a wink, pointing in your direction. “She’s the one who made me do this, so if you don’t like my voice, she’ll be handling all complaints.”

The familiar sound of 'Life on Mars’ began to play. As Gerard began to sing, you were shocked by just how good his voice was, and how natural he looked onstage, as if he was meant to do this. As he hit the chorus, he made eye contact with you, and a realization hit you like a truck. You loved this man.

Sure, you thought he was funny and cute from the moment he walked into the archiving room, but there was no denying what you felt tonight. And you were drunk enough that you were going to let him know.

Gerard finished the song to a smattering of hoots and applause, and left the stage. You shot up out of your chair a little too quickly as he approached the table, and he rushed to help you maintain your balance as you wobbled like a newborn deer.

“Woah, I think that’s enough drinks tonight.”

“Hey that was amaaaaazing!” you slurred excitedly.

Despite his concern at your state of sobriety, he was also clearly amused. “You sure? Or is that just he booze talking?”

Your eyes widened. “Honest! But listen. I really needa tell you somethin’. Can we go outside?”

Gerard nodded, putting your arm through his. “Some fresh air would probably be a good idea.”

The two of you found a quiet corner on the balcony, and you wasted no time in making your confession.

“So what’s on your–”

“I love you.”

A muted expression crossed Gerard’s face, but you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher it. Was it surprise? Embarrassment?

“Y/N, I–”

“I have for awhile, but I didn’t know it till now.” you interrupted. You didn’t want him to speak. You were afraid now, afraid of what might come out of his mouth. “And you’re so talented and a good singer and you need to follow your dreams, OK?” you implored without taking a breath, and you wavered back and forth like a sheet of paper in the wind.

Gerard opened his mouth to speak. This was it, you thought. This is where I get let down easy.

“I need to tell you something too.”he said softly.

And then you vomited.

Right before Gerard was about to respond, you hunched over and spewed on the ground, splattering his white converse sneakers. You could feel tears of embarrassment well up in your eyes.

“I am sooo sorry!”

Gerard put an arm around your shoulder. “You alright? How bout I help get you home.”

You nodded pathetically, and he gathered your belongings.

*** *** ***

You could remember Gerard helping you get into bed, and found a glass of water and aspirin beside you when you finally woke up. You groaned as your head pulsed and downed the pills, hoping they’d take care of your regrets too.

Gerard didn’t contact you all weekend, and you were too afraid to reach out. Instead, you hoped that you could go back to what you had before.

Come Monday, you found yourself once again entombed in the archiving room. Hours went by before you heard a familiar knock on the door.

“Y/N.” Gerard’s voice was gentle and hesitant, as if he were afraid you might break. “How’s that head of yours?”

You smiled, relieved that he made a joke. Maybe we can go back to the way things were after all.

“Fully recovered thanks to your valiant efforts. Thanks for your help.”

“My shoes send their regards, by the way.”

You cringed before laughing dismissively. “Yeah, I have a few regrets from that night. Things I did,” you averted your eyes, looking at the ground, “things I said.”

“Hopefully not everything.” Gerard sounded crestfallen.

You got up out of your chair and starting shuffling papers in an attempt to quell your anxiety.

“I hope things don’t have to change between us.” you said in a low voice,your throat starting to ache.

“I think they have to now.” he said, and you turned your back to him as you felt yourself fighting back tears.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, look at me,” Gerard said, voice calm but serious. He turned you to face him. “You didn’t let me respond that night.”

“Well?” you said, bracing yourself for impact, “let’s hear it.”

Gerard wiped a tear away from your face, placed a finger under your chin, and gently raised your head. Suddenly, his lips were on yours. Butterflies returned, fluttering wildly in your stomach.

He broke away after a moment and smiled. “I didn’t want you to be drunk when I did that.”

You basked in the wave of relief that washed over you. “So I guess things really can’t go back to the way they were before Friday.”

He wiped another tear from your face. “Afraid not.”

“Good,” you said, leaning in for another kiss, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

#gerard way imagine #gerard way x reader #Gerard way fanfic #my chemical romance fanfiction #my chemical romance imagine

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dashtrail2 · 3 years

Text

2020 Ordinary Locksmith Prices In The Uk

. Seattle Auto Locksmith.

Content

Unlock Padlocks Without A Trick Utilizing Inexpensive Diy Shims.

Rekeying A Schlage Lever Lock.

Our Chicago Locksmith Solutions.

Sell Dallas For Locksmiths.

Unlock Padlocks Without A Trick Using Cheap Do It Yourself Shims.

Running a legit locksmith organization with luxury customer support is time consuming needs devotion of thousands of dollars that is expense of doing business. I agree with your statement that often cylinders require to be drilling after attempting to select the cylinder does not function. I been a locksmith for over three decades as well as after a cylinder has actually been pierced it requires to be replace to maintain the stability of the lock.

If a task appear to be beyond my abilities I would recommend one of a number of specialist locksmiths that had the training and also tools as well as were straightforward to a fault. I have been called by pals who had actually a so called affordable locksmith did a poor work. During emergency situation services, especially for ladies and particularly in parking lots. Never ever, never ever, never ever, never let access LocksmithDallasTX.biz locksmith lewisville tx here! , ever, ever before, ever before obstruct your lorry -your escape course - during service. This is an usual tactic among fraudulent locksmiths to endanger and daunt those they mean to rip off.

A locksmith will suggest you change your door locks if you lose your tricks as a safety and security avoidance. Changing your locks after shedding your tricks will certainly stop anyone from accessing your home who does not have approval to.

Rekeying A Schlage Bar Lock.

Duplication of limited keys is restricted to approved suppliers as well as locksmith professionals as well as requires the use of specific tools. In order to have actually a replicated made, the locksmith should request for recognition of the person requesting it as well as evidence that this person has actually acquired authorization from the initial owner. The engraving may decrease the number of duplicates in blood circulation as a result of the demand to have them copied by a locksmith. Yet the fact stays that tricks marked with "Do Not Replicate" disappear safe than tricks without it.

If you EVER BEFORE feel uneasy or worried, leave your vehicle, locate an extremely public location and also call the police as soon as possible. Idea I was calling the reputable locksmith downtown; sadly no. A large man worn black came as well as informed me $240 cash money or $285 credit rating. Headed out next morning, secured the door and for some reason pressed on the door as well as it opened up. He could have come back the following day, pressed the door open, and also cleansed me out.

As for getting a credible Locksmith you must visit your local Locksmith area and also get a business card before you require there solutions. A great deal of locksmiths do not note their vehicles, as it makes the automobile a better one to get into; along with the included prices associated with marking the lorry. I always estimated a cost and stuck to it no matter what price me in time or products.

If you have actually ever shed your keys, had them swiped, or locked yourself out of your home or cars and truck, you recognize just how hard and also awkward it can be attempting to obtain your door open. Costs for emergency locksmith professionals may vary, as weekend and also out of hrs call-outs normally set you back more. The dimension, type of lock and also brand, ought to also be taken into account, as higher safety locks generally cost more to open. An usual lie locksmiths inform their customers is that the lock is 'broken' and also needs to be replaced totally.

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According to the Associated Locksmiths of America, having a "do not replicate" message inscribed on your business tricks may actually offer a false complacency. You can count of AAA for assurance, whether your vehicle of selection has 2 wheels or a queen-sized bed. Classic members obtain locksmith support and emergency situation gas distribution for Motor homes and also bikes.

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If you have actually ever before locked yourself out of your auto or home or required your locks changed, you'll understand the significance of an expert locksmith. Locksmiths can additionally help you identify exactly how safe and secure your house is. These professionals have the ideal knowledge, expertise as well as tools to accessibility and secure your residence, office or car without creating any kind of concerns. Below, we've laid out the prices of employing a locksmith in 2020.

Can you program a car key yourself?

Also known as chip keys and transponder keys, these must be programmed to an individual vehicle before they can be used to start the car's ignition. Only the transponder key will activate your car, and the key can only be programmed from the car itself. You can program a key in about 30 minutes.

The dependable locksmith came as well as took care of everything and also his telephone number is in my contacts. A couple times I've conserved locksmith expenses when a data closet had been locked inadvertently, or a padlock secret shed.

Your car's essential code is essential if you require to replace your vehicle keys with a dealership or locksmith.

Your automobile's vital code is usually saved in your proprietor's guidebook, as long as it is the one that included the car when it was brand-new.

Those locksmiths generally refer you to the car dealership however actually they merely do not own the appropriate tools to do the work for you.

If not, you will certainly have to confirm possession at a dealer to get the code, which can generally be done for cost-free.

Anemergency locksmithcan provide you access to the residential property and replace locks or keys.

Learn exactly how to obtain an essential code for your cars and truck in situation you ever misplace or shed your tricks.

Additional solutions are available and vary by region. RV and also bike services are not offered in Hawai'i. An expert locksmith will reply to your call immediately. Furthermore, they will have the devices to get involved in your auto promptly and without harming it.

Can you get a key made with VIN number?

With the VIN number and proof of ownership of the vehicle, an automotive locksmith can cut a key for your car. Without the original key, the key code is used to cut the key. Newer model vehicles also require a computer chip, or “transponder” to be present in the key itself.

Sell Dallas For Locksmiths.

I will certainly claim that it took him a rather long period of time, but he at some point obtained it, saving him a contact us to the regional locksmith and also possibly a hundred dollars approximately. So, how would you open your vehicle door without a key? Right here are a couple of workarounds to help you return in when you're shut out. An extra key is among those things that never appears like a massive bargain until you require it.

High safety locks are developed to quit individuals from bumping or picking a door open, and they need customized secrets cut to abide by the lock's grooves. Replacing https://locksmithdallastx.biz/plano/ of locks normally costs about $300, Vallelunga states. A reputable locksmith ought to likewise ask you for recognition to validate that they are opening a home or auto that belongs to you. Use care if the locksmith shows up in an unmarked car, or one promoting a various service name than the company you hired.

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years

Note

Do you know any fics with 3g moments where Sherlock gets hurt instead of John?

Hi Lovely!!

Ahh, I don’t have anything necessarily 3G, but I have a lot of Sherlock Whump so we’ll just classify it all in the same blurb, LOL.

SHERLOCK IS SICK / HURT (WHUMP)

See also:

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2

Promise of Sussex by LittleLongHairedOutlaw (T, 705 w. || First Person POV Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Angst, Pining, Ambiguous Ending) – John tries to keep Sherlock conscious after he’s been shot on a case.

Concussions And Good Old Fashioned Awkwardness by Belldere (K+, 894 w. || Humour, Hospitals, Mild John Whump, Misunderstandings, Platonic Relationship, Concussions, Not-Gay John, Possessive Sherlock) – When John lands himself in hospital… again, all he wants is to just get out of there as soon as possible, too bad his doctor has other ideas about where John may be getting his injuries. Good thing concussions make everything strangely funnier.

Usefulness of Having Friends by ObservationofTrifles (K, 1,052 w. || Friendship) – Sherlock is sick and John is bringing him to the doctor’s. On the way there in the tram, John decides to play a deduction game to cheer Sherlock up.

Idiot by Anesthesiologist (T, 1,229 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Alternate TGG / Explosion, BAMF John, Sherlock Whump, Inner Monologue, John Saves Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – What the heck happened? He remembered the pool and Moriarty, but then what? Had he been dying?

Giveaway Fic #9 - Angsty Sick Fic/Sherlock is Sick by ConsultingPurplePants (T, 1,734 || Hypothermia, Love Declarations) – The next time he awakens is even more chaotic. Two doctors are shouting at each other in the corner, and John is holding his hand so tightly Sherlock is worried he’ll break it. Part 9 of 1000 Tumblr Followers Giveaway Fics

Quite Contrary by Hollyesque (T, 1,805 w. || HLV Fic, Sherlock Whump / After Mary Shot Sherlock, Hallucinations / Flashbacks / PTSD, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Lestrade POV, ) – A short one-shot, alternate scene to Greg’s hospital visit in HLV. Instead of Sherlock disappearing, Greg is faced with an unexpected reaction to a hospitalized Sherlock and winds up figuring out something that he really would have rather not known.

BBCSH ‘Poor Mary’ by tigersilver (M, 1,839 w.|| HLV Fic, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Missing Scene, Sherlock POV) – As the tin says above, this is a missing scene, set directly after Sherlock awakens in hospital after having been shot by his best mate’s wife. Minor angst, some pining, nothing nasty; please don’t be alarmed unduly.

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he’s been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

Love Hurts by Grac3 (T, 2,215 w.|| Magical Realism, Pining Sherlock, One-Sided Pining / URT, Sherlock / John Whump, Angst, Ambiguous Ending) – In a world where someone’s physical injuries manifest themselves on the person who is in love with them, John didn’t think that there would ever be anyone who was willing to risk falling in love with him - until he got shot on a case, and it didn’t hurt. Unrequited Johnlock.

Q 1 HR by StillWaters1 (K+, 2,234 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick John, Fluff, New Year’s Eve) – On New Year’s Eve, Sherlock discovers that sometimes it’s the seemingly innocuous, rather than life-threatening, conditions that can keep John from The Work. And John is reminded just how deeply their friendship runs.

In My Life (and dreams, you take my breath away) by Nina36 (NR, 2,847 w. || Post-TRF/TEH, Angst, Pining Sherlock) – The first time he had dreamt about John he had been in Peru. He had been “dead” a little over a month, squatting in a tiny rented room, the heat and the stains on the walls making him slightly claustrophobic. It had been a nice dream: John and he eating take away Chinese in their kitchen, a song coming from Mrs. Hudson’s radio downstairs, something about friends and lovers and how no one compared with him, his mind supplied in his dream.

The Rational Machine by Solstice Zero (K, 2,924 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Malnourishment / Fainting, Doctor / Minder John) – Sherlock passes out. John muses on the reasons why. Containing an absorbing case, two bags of shopping, and a few apples.

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w. || Pining, Confessions) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

Five Times John Cooked Something with Peas and One First Kiss by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (T, 3,915 w. || 5 and Ones, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Cooking / Food, Sick Sherlock, Music, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss) – After John cooks five dinners that slowly reveal their hunger for each other, Sherlock and John finally share a first kiss.

Welcome Home, John by slashscribe (G, 5,504 w. || Post-S3, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Stabbed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Panic Attack (Sherlock), Self Esteem Issues, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When John moves back to 221B, he thinks he’s the broken one, but after a while, it becomes clear that he might not be correct.

The Dying Detective Remix by SailorChibi (K, 6,563 w. || Friendship & Family) – No one hates admitting illness or wounds more than Sherlock… perhaps that’s why no one believes him when he actually gets sick. Fortunately, when he can’t do it himself any longer, John and Lestrade are there to pick up the slack. Features Paternal!Lestrade and Gen John and Sherlock. One-shot.

Until I See the Sun by Vintage Tea Party (T, 8,194 w. || Nightmares, Mild Whump, Friendship, Mild Violence, Angst) – After a particularly dangerous case, John suffers from night terrors. Will Sherlock be able to comfort him? Will he be able to find out what is really troubling John?

Incapacitation by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 9,424 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Sick Sherlock, Doctor John, Appendicitis) – The doctor had just asked how bad the pain was when the pain spiked. Sherlock’s initial response was a gasp that evolved into a whimper. “Ten,” he gasped. “Ten…”

I See You Through by belovedmuerto (T, 12,078 w. || Psychic AU || Empath John, Alternate TGG, Whump, Nightmares, Bedsharing, Slow Burn, Pre-Slash) –John has never asked Sherlock about his past, his childhood, the reason he quails in lonely misery almost every time he sees his brother. He’s never needed to. Part 2 of An Experiment in Empathy

First Response by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 13,516 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Five and Ones, Whump / Injury) – Five times John had to perform first aid on Sherlock and one time Sherlock had to perform it on John.

I Will Take Care Of You by SailorChibi (T, 16,664 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Sherlock, BAMF John, BAMF Lestrade, Reunion Fic) – Two years after Sherlock’s death, John comes to find him on the sofa. Wounded and ill, Sherlock is convinced he’s hallucinating and refuses to share any details about Moran or the fact that Mycroft has been compromised. That doesn’t stop John from stepping up and taking care of the last of Moriarty’s web, BAMF-style.

Checkmate to a Castled King by LaSuen (T, 18,290 w. || Friendship, Hurt / Comfort, Sick Sherlock) - John dies. Or at least everyone thinks he does. (REVERSE-TRF, FAVE)

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

The Kissing Disease by cottonballz_of_death (E, 30,856 || Sickfic, Angst with Happy Ending, Case Fic, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Jealous Sherlock, Body Image Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional H/C, POV Sherlock, Oral / Anal, Thong, Frottage) – John brings home a boyfriend, shocking Sherlock, who long ago gave up hope that his straight flatmate would ever take a romantic interest in him. In a bid to reconnect with John, he tries to infect himself with a “harmless” virus. Neither of them is prepared for the emotional fallout that results.

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, H/C, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness’, and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts’ now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Electric Pink Hand Grenade by BeautifulFiction (E, 67,718 w. || First Time / Kiss, Seizures, Headaches) – “If Sherlock’s brain is a hard drive, then these attacks are an electro-magnetic pulse.” Sherlock Holmes does not do anything by half, not even a migraine. It falls to John to witness one of the greatest minds he has ever known tear itself apart, and he must do his best to help Sherlock pick up the pieces.

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he’s a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover’s trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world’s highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

To Light Another’s Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w. || Post-TGG, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction / Recreational Drug Use, First Time / Kiss, Case Fic) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John’s care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #sherlock whump #reverse 3g #ramblingsofabrokenbrain

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seereclipse · 5 years

Text

title: make pretend people triggers: mentions of drug use and abuse. slight body image issues word count: 2872 summary: alina goes on vacation and runs into an old friend

I think now if I felt less I would be a better person. (…)

Alina’s hotel room was lovely, large windows that let her see what felt like all of Amsterdam spread out around her. When she came stumbling into the hotel in the early hours of the morning, silver luggage trailing behind her like a comet-tail, the front desk immediately made sure her room was ready for her.

When Alina first realized that she was now officially famous, she promised that would not get lost in it. She was Alina, the daydreaming student before she was whoever the public thought she was.

Though that didn’t mean that the special treatment didn’t at excite her a little bit.

Once again, her hotel was lovely, the smooth feeling of wheels going over marble gave her the childish impulse to push her luggage to see how far it could go. Ignoring said bag’s crash with the wall, Alina excitedly went to the window, to see if she could discern anything from down there.

She couldn’t, she squinted, but all the people were all just dots to her, moving from place to place. She couldn’t see them, and they couldn’t see her. Nothing she did would affect them as long as she stayed up here. It was nice to feel that way, like nobody’s actions, had consequences on her nor did hers on anyone else.

Now it was time for her to look around, being here was like living in a cloud. It was all white and soft, rugs, towels, everything, and the solitude was freeing. Something she never thought she would feel. She was just a pastel blue bird floating around the white expanse.

She looked in the bathroom, marveling at the tub, and flipped through the TV channels available in the Netherlands.

After expecting the snacks in the fridge, there was nothing else to look at. Alina was sure she’s seen every inch of her temporary home, the only thing to do was...her eyes went to the bed, king-sized and as plush and light as everything else here.

With a fall as graceful as a fall could be, her back hit the king-sized comforter with a muffled thump her arms and legs a starfish.

She stretched her fingers, even her mechanical ones, and extended her legs as far as they could go, though she couldn’t even touch the edge of the mattress. Alina’s been dancing since she could walk, but her limbs felt stiff, not in that they couldn’t move freely, but as if they didn’t like the woman controlling them. What she could only describe as a squawk was her body’s response as if it too could tell that she forgot she had a body that needed to be maintained.

The newfound awareness made her look to floor-length mirror on the wall to remind herself what that body looked like. She was alone, and nobody could see her, but she was curious about how she looked, so she examined her reflection.

In her nineteen years, she never once felt it, but she could tell she was still pretty.

She was caught in the snow while in a crop top and attacked by fire, but her face didn’t look it.

Her hair was still long and soft, the eyes staring back at her were still large and violet. Alina smiled at the reflection, dimples popped into her cheeks, she still had her dimples. Those were her features everyone liked about her.

After passing her self-imposed test, she looked away, she was not going to gaze at her reflection while she was waiting for.

Bzz.

A harsh nasal exhalation, of course, he would text her now, and of course, her purse was just out of reach. With a groan she rolled, landing on her stomach and blindly searched around for her phone, coins candy and lip gloss going onto the bed.

💙💙😍😍: hey alina, did you land safely? (2 hr ago)

👩🏾‍🏫💜: alina, are you sure you’re okay? (1 hr ago)

💙💙😍😍: i love you so much (30 min ago)

She couldn’t think about those texts, not now. If she does, she’ll never stop thinking about them.

pym: i’ll be there in five. (now)

Then text me in five when you’ll be here, asshole. Though Alina did get up to smooth the babydoll dress she brought on the way here. Pym had always grossed her out, and she’d rather blow a cactus than hold his hand but he was still a person, and her appearance was something she knew people judged her on.

Next, she went to the bathroom. Gods, why was she so tired? She hasn’t even gone through the most of the people who fought the mess of flesh, water, and hell, she left clean and pretty, but she was tired and useless because she was all those things.

Alina splashed some cold water on her face. Now she was tired and cold, but five minutes were up.

I the elevator, a family stared at her. They didn’ whisper, they weren’t animals, but they either didn’t see she noticed or didn’t care. Alina hoped it was just because they were surprised ethnics stayed in this hotel too and not because they recognized her.

Pym was waiting in front of the elevator, eyes lighting up in recognition when he saw her. For a second, Alina caught real excitement like he was waiting to see her and not her money. The years didn’t take away the elf-like nature from his features.

A downwards glance showed her what he was wearing, cute. A t-shirt with Alina’s face on it, she remembered the photoshoot, it was uncomfortable, but at least the end result of Alina sitting in a cloud looked nice.

“Is that the Alina?” A mock-whisper, Pym wasn’t dumb enough to draw attention. A pop star talking to a drug dealer wasn’t going to surprise anyone, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he had other friends in this hotel he didn’t want to see, “Can you give me an autograph?”

He thought he was funny and unique, Alina let him believe she thought so too.

Alina pried her mouth open in a smile and giggled, “Oh you know, only for you,” She chirped, internally cringing before holding the door open with her metal arm, “Come on, I’m up top, you’re gonna love it!”

When Pym was in the elevator, he looked her over. Alina’s long been used to that, but looking at him Alina could tell that he thought that she couldn’t tell. Alina would prefer if he just looked shamelessly, “You look good,” He complimented her, a wry smile on his face, “How long has it been?”

“Two years,” Her response was quick, too quick for Alina’s role as a cool, relaxed chick.

Pym’s hazel eyes momentarily sputtered, he broke his role too though he soon remembered it. Leaning against the wall, looking down at her the smile came back, “It’s been too long, though,” He paused, laughing lightly looking at the ceiling, “I guess it’s good if you don’t feel the need to see people like me.”

Alina didn’t know how to respond, he had something she wanted, and she didn’t want to offend him, so she subtly out her lower lip, “I missed you.” Her voice was soft despite the lie.

“Did you?” He was trying to figure out if she was lying, she could tell. In a rare feeling of superiority, she wanted to ask why someone like her would lie about missing a guy like him even though that was exactly what was happening.

The elevator doors opened, and Alina immediately left the awkward moment to go open her room, she was only here for a few minutes so, besides some squashed pillows, her room was still mint-condition.

A low whistle, Alina looked behind her to see Pym taking it in, he was impressed but was deciding to not show it, or perhaps she wanted him to be impressed, everyone from that era of her life all viewed her the same way it was nice to see them realize that she’s changed.

“I guess being a pop-star has its perks,” Pym said casually, “My little sister likes your music,” He teased.

It was a dig, but Alina inflated, “She does?” She asked, genuinely curious, it was helpful hearing reminders that what she did was meaningful to others, if he wanted her to sign anything she would do so.

“Yeah,” He let the point end, not elaborating, strolling to the window like she did. Alina wondered what went through his mind when he saw how far he was above the world did he wish his actions had no consequences or was that unique to her?

The longer he was quiet, the more pins were being stuck into her bones, she preferred his talking to his silence.

Pym looked at her once again, not sexually like he did originally, but like she was a puzzle. Alina always liked that, when people were curious about her despite knowing that it never lasts.

If he had a question, he didn’t ask it yet. Instead, going to sit on the l-shaped sofa in the middle of her room. Alina wordlessly followed him, sitting near him, but not close to him, now she was the curious one. What was he going to say to her? He was probably going to say some dirty joke to make her uncomfortable, she could feel it.

“Why did you call me Alina?”

All her anxiety turned to frustration pounding in her ears. Did he want her to say it? Fine, whatever, she wasn’t too proud to call him, she wouldn’t be too proud to say why. Deep breath, “I wanted you to give me-”

“No I know you want me to give you drugs Alina,” He was impatient, far too impatient for someone who had decided to play twenty questions, “But why? At least with Ma-”

“Can we please not talk about him?” Another character break.

The name shattered her heart, it’s been a long time since she felt it. Jun and Nneka did everything they could to make her forget the feeling, but Alinia could feel the familiar ache. She never stopped thinking about him, but she had stopped only thinking about him. Why would he just carelessly say that? Like his name was nothing just hearing it made her cold again.

But Pym wouldn’t understand, and Alina didn’t need him too, she needed to just keep it together, so she got up using the fact that her curtains were open as her excuse before going to close them. Her white cloud now felt more like a cell, gloomy, and colorless.

She could hear Pym sigh, women he was probably thinking “With your ex-boyfriend, I understood, but Alina, people would kill to do what you could do.” His eyes were boring through her skull, and Alina felt her head might crack open because of it. Her powers would probably kill them first.

Why do you care? You’ll get paid no matter what. She wanted to ask, but she had to play the role for a little more, so she made an angry face at her window before she looked at him with the calm innocence of a Disney princess.

“If they promise not to kill anyone, I’d give my abilities to them if I could.” She replied softly, going to sit down close to him this time, and she could have sworn she saw some color go to his pale face.

She placed a hand on his knee, now it was on his cheeks, “Look,” She began still gentle like a breeze, “I’m just...I need this right now, I know it sounds insane, but I think this is what’s healthy for now.”

Pym looked down at her hand, she hasn’t seen him this serious in a while.

“Give me a kiss,” A sudden grin that made her internally retreat. Nevermind.

Alina instantly recoiled. It was on her for getting close to him. Her face was hot like the blood would just burst all over him. Not a cute blush, but a tomato mask. All her attempts at seeming different failed, miserably and she wanted to look anywhere but at him.

“No,” She shook her head as firmly as she could ever say anything, “Wait why would you,” She shook her head again, “Nope no, no no no,” She was stumbling over her sentences, but she didn’t care. “Pym, I have a boyfriend.” Before it dawned on her:

This happened two years ago too.

Mathias and his boys would be in a separate room, and Pym would take the opportunity to talk and flirt with her. A particularly bad joke, made Alina tell Mathias of her discomfort and that night. He never cared about her pain when he was the cause of it but Pym being the instigator made him angry. Alinia saw the man who had long consumed her life, turn Pym into a bloody mess, telling him to think about this next time he tried to make his girlfriend uncomfortable.

Alina felt awful, but she had also thought it was so romantic. In Alina’s eyes, all red flags were roses.

Pym laughed, and it rasped against her wall,, yet didn’t meet his eyes. He tugged on her arm, “ I was just trying to see if you would.” Though Alina could see his jaw working, he was thinking about that night too.

He was rude and made her uncomfortable, but he never deserved that, and Alina felt compelled to tell him so.

“I’m so sorry,” She just wanted to say that, but the words were rushing out of her, she already showed him she hadn’t changed much, what was the point of trying, “I didn’t know M-, he would hit you, I told him before that he shouldn’t, that it was a joke.” Tears were falling, why was she always the one crying?

She liked to think she felt things so deeply so that they didn’t have to, but babies cried to be taken care of, and Alina did too. Though she knew Pym was never going to do that for her.

He was looking at her in a mix of awe and pity, she was always stoic the way a doll was when they talked to each other, now he saw that was a lie. If he liked that person he was, he wanted a lie.

“When they,” He learned not to say his name, “...When they were in the other room I felt like I could tell you anything.”

Alina was still crying, not even trying to wipe her tears away, she was crying for the both of them. Of course, he felt that way, everyone who talked to her felt that way. Alina wanted people to feel that way about her, the more people liked you, the safer you were. Alina also hoped that applied to people loving you as well, so she would hope everyone who talked to her loved her.

Pym didn’t love her, he let Mathias buy drugs intended to control her, that wasn’t love. However, he loved how she acted around him, letting him control the conversation and Alina disliked him, but she could never bear him hating her. Every longing look he gave her years ago was like a reminder: you are a likable person ergo you have worth.

Looking at him now, a skinny kid not much older than her, she was surprised that despite her aversion not fading, she emphasized with him. She had loved make pretend people, too, and it was awful.

So here she was, crying and wordlessly looking at her old drug dealer, all-round, tear-stained cheeks and a sniffling pink nose.

He was stoic, she wondered if he was living through her, she had enough emotions for everyone.

And without saying a word, Pym got up and went straight to her bathroom, each thump his shoes made, made her ache grow worse and worse. Alina couldn’t find the words to say to him or even the courage to ask him what he was doing.

She felt useless.

All she could do was just put her feet on her sofa and curled up, attempting to pull herself together. The sound of Pym’s heavy breathing helped her compose herself somewhat.

Pym finally came out, the way the fluorescent lights hit him made him look like some type of fallen angel, under-eyes red but no visible tears. In pale, shaking hands were three clear bottles with a clear liquid in them, he placed them in front of her, not looking at her face. That was what he was here for, and Alina put five twenty euro bills on the table.

He wordlessly took it, eyes not even looking at her before he left, not even saying goodbye. Alina wasn’t his problem any illusion he had of her was long gone.

When the door closed, she no longer needed to regulate her emotions. If nobody would try to understand her feelings, she would have to forgive herself. She put her face in one of the pillows, a wordless scream coming out of her. Her throat was collapsing, but it felt like a relief. She hasn’t had a good cry in a long time, and it just meant tomorrow she’d be as pretty and fresh-faced as people expected her to be.

#the adventures of a dreamgirl.

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yasminsqueendom · 5 years

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Antique the Vamp Geek Pt1 Ep5

CW:Death, violence, blood drinking, murder, sexually suggestive social media handles, anxiety/stress

A/N: This is the second Q and A. I guess at this point I started getting into a flow of how I wanted the series to move.

W/C: 1075

Hey babes! I'm back again. I've got mixed news. I'll let y'all decide how to feel about it.

So, if you pay any attention to the news, and even if you don't, I'm sure you've heard of the exsanguinated bikers. For those of you who haven't, here's the story.

So shortly after my last cast was posted, three biker dudes from Bikers Against Vamps were found in the public restroom of a bar completely drained of blood with marks on their necks.

Naturally, riots ensued and several people were violently murdered in their homes, in markets, pretty much anywhere. All of these people weren't vamps, but just like those BS “stand your ground” laws were the excuse of the early 2010's, “I thought they were gonna infect me” is the excuse of our time.

9 unnecessary deaths of innocent people, and 32 injuries from assaults, and an untold number of yelled slurs later, the local authorities released “previously unknown” info. THE BIKERS WERE NOT KILLED BY VAMPS!

You heard that right.

Coroner's report showed that there was no blood around the wounds on their necks. Which literally translates to: they were already dead when the wounds were made. They found precise cuts right under their arms that could only be done by a knife. Blood soaked clothes were found in a nearby alleyway.

THEY WEREN'T EVEN FROM THAT BIKER GANG!

They were three homeless men who were used to set up a major conspiracy against US.

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this. I see that a lot of you have sent me questions that I will be getting to at the end. All related articles and links will be posted on the station's website.

Update #2

Thanks to the support of pro-vamp allies and the endless labor done by vamps that are tired of living in hiding, 5 states have passed laws making violence illegal against people based on their infection status. Whether or not this law is enforced is entirely based upon the mood of law enforcement when the need arises.

Update #3

Some clinics are open until 2 hours before dawn and 2 hours after dusk now. The addresses and info for those clinics will be posted on the website as well.

Update #4

I think my younger sibling may suspect that I am a vampire. I'm scared af about it.

Update #5

There is a working list of resources for baby vamps who may need some assistance in terms of talking to someone or connecting with an experienced vamp. Some of them have been quietly communicating on the internet. While they have not publicly disclosed their status, they seem very knowledgeable, and so far have been open to online communication. A link to the chats and forums they frequent can also be found on the website.

Update #6

Maybe this is the scariest one of all for me, personally. My school has required that all students get tested for vampirism and submit their results to the nursing facilities by the end of the semester. A few students have just dropped out. I'm so scared rn. I don't know what to do.

So ummm. Let's move on to questions.

One from @babyvamp.god: Hey Tique! I'm a “baby vamp” and I wanna thank you for giving us a voice. My question is this...do you find that black vampires face a different struggle than other races?

Ok so. Clearly I'm proudly and openly black and unapologetic about it. I'm coming to terms with the virus. It's a new and scary identity, but all the other shit is still there. I still get followed when I shop. I still get asked to answer all the awkward race questions in classes full of white students. I still make less than other people at my day job. On top of that, I'm a woman. I still flinch when men walk up too quickly behind me. I still hold my keys in my hand to scratch out the eyes of potential attackers at night. On top of that, I'm poor. I work almost 30 hrs a week and I'm a full time student. I literally don't even have time to breathe. My scholarships are the only thing keeping me afloat. And at least two of them are religious based. My sexuality is none of your business, but if you've been paying attention then it's obvious. I am everything my family fears and despises. Vampirism is just the newest thing. Everything else is the same.

Ok. Here's a question from @godforgiveus777: where do you think your soul will go when you die?

So I've already made my religious stance clear. I chose to answer this question just to reiterate. I will join my ancestors. They will welcome me. Who needs heaven when I've got a home?

Another question here from @flayedtothegawds: In your last cast, you talked about the sun's effects on you. I burn almost immediately. Why did it take so long for you?

Well, I don't know what you look like. Based on what I've read, melanin plays a large role in the amount of time a vamp can spend in the sun. Also, I was extremely hungover so I may not have noticed immediately. And I was still in transition. So there's that. My only advice is lots of sunscreen, and long sleeves and pants all the times. The darker the material, the better. And layers! Sunlight has a harder time filtering through layers.

Here's one from @chun.li.kix6: I've heard a term going around “fang-raped”. What do you think of it?

Short answer: I fucking hate it.

Long answer: I reeeeeaaaaaaallly fucking hate it.

Next question from @ivegotthemeats813: have you noticed a spike in your...you know. Sex drive?

No. I was always a horndog. Added stress requires added release. I fuck more because I would rather not cry more.

An annoying ass question because I don't discriminate from @gangofhens10: It was very difficult to understand you in your last cast. Could you record it again with less slang?

Not if you paid me. Ole bum ass. Ole “i can't understand black talk” face ass hoe. No offense to real ass hoes though.

So that's it for questions and updates for today! Catch me here same time and place next week.

Remember to moisturize and hydrate *wink wink*

I love you all.

Love Tique.

#black vamps #vamps #vampires #vampire #black women in fiction #black fiction #black women #black fic

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hetbigbang · 6 years

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D-DAY IS HERE

IT'S DEADLINE DAY!!

Art and Fics Due - September 26th, 11:59 PM (Midnight) PST (here is a timezone converter.) ~ We can't wait to see what you all have created and can't wait to share it with everyone! IMPORTANT NOTE: I will be sending out emails to our artists who were willing to pinch hit art, as we have one outstanding art claim, and we may delay Debut Day if it is not picked up. (There may also be a slight delay because the mods are sick and in school, but we are doing our best not to let that happen!) POSTING: In case you need a hand with posting or last minute questions, check under the cut for a rundown on how to post your final works to the 2018 Collection.

POSTING REQUIREMENTS Where do we post our completed fics? We are using AO3 collections, with the deadline for submission as September 26th, and the reveal date of October 1st. You can post them up early!! Post them up now, if you want! You can also post your fics anywhere else you like, just don't post them anywhere before the Debut Date. Everyone who has signed up for this challenge should have an AO3 account, but if you don't, you can still sign up. You can ask a friend for an invite code, or you can request from A03 here or at

ao3_invitecodes. If you are unfamiliar with it, here is the FAQ of AO3. Do not publish your fic for everyone to see at AO3. Instead, submit it for our 2018 collection. Only the author of a work can add it to a collection, and then the mods approve it and we'll reveal it on the Debut Date. Once you've done that, we are also asking you to drop an email to thehetbigbang [at] gmail dot com when you submit your work to A03, with the following information: Email Subject Line: (Fic or Art Submission. YOUR NAME.)

AO3 Name/LJ Name: (both) Fandom: Pairing: Artwork or Fic: (artwork for "Title of Fic, by Author") or (Fic: "Title, rating, and word count. Big Bang or Little Bang.") Summary: (if applicable.)

Further Posting guidelines below. (The pics used are for the old 2012 submissions, but just mentally adjust for 2018.) 1. Sign up for A03. You can ask a friend for an invite code, or you can request from A03 here or at

ao3_invitecodes. 2. DO NOT POST YOUR FICS/ARTS SO THAT THE GENERAL PUBLIC CAN SEE THEM. Double check after posting to make sure it doesn't get posted to the general audience. If it does, delete the work and start over. Instead, you need to allow the mods to collect your fic/arts so that we can reveal everything together on October 1st. Go here, to the 2018 Het Big Bang Collection, and go the "Post to Collection" button in the top right corner. The collection is currently open, moderated and unrevealed.

This will bring you to the normal template where you submit your fic/artwork. In the first block, you fill out all the tags: fandom, warnings, ratings, characters, pairings, additional tags, etc. In the second block, you fill out the preface information, including title, summary, and author's notes. 2a. For Artist: your summary line should include your author's name and the title of their story (if you know it). 3. In the third block, for "Associations" make sure the line for "Post to Collections/Challenges" lists "Het_Big_Little_Bang_Challenge_2018."

3a. For Artists: the next line, "Gift this work to:" should be filled out as well. Artist, you know your Author's A03 name, which should have been provided to you through your emails. If for some reason it was not, please contact your authors and get this name from them. Fill in the "Gift this work to:" line with your author's name. That will link your artwork to them. After the submissions have gone live on the Debut Date, we would like you to go back and edit your submission to add in a link to the specific story you created your artwork for. But until the entire big bang goes public, the main way you'll attach your artwork to the piece will be by identifying the author through gifting. When you finally get the chance to link to the story, edit your submission and use the HTLM coding: <*a href="INSERT THE URL HERE">Title, by Author. (Remove the *) You can put this in your author's note or summary. 3b. For Authors: After the submissions have gone live on the Debut Date, we would need you to go back and edit your submission to add in a link to the specific artwork that was created for your story. You don't have to "Gift this work to:" to the artist, but it'd be neat if you wanted to do so. When you finally get the chance to link to the artwork, edit your submission and use the HTLM coding: <*a href="INSERT THE URL HERE">Title, by Artist. (Remove the *) You can put this in your author's note or summary. 4. Formatting and coding guidelines are important. 4a. For Artists: AO3 video embeds are working from Youtube, Vimeo, blip.tv, Dailymotion, Viddler, Metacafe, and 4shared. So if you have a video, you upload it to Youtube for example, and then embed into an AO3 post. For images like artwork and icons and banners and cover art, use the <*img src="INSERT YOUR URL HERE"> HTML coding (remove the *). You can first upload your images at Tinypic or imgbox or a similar image hosting website, and then make an A03 post with the HTML coding. (*NOTE: As of 2017, photobucket no longers allows you to post and link without paying big bucks, so avoid photobucket.) 5. Submit your fic/artwork. You need to make sure when you hit "Post" that you see this text at the top of the resulting page:

"This work is part of an ongoing challenge and will be revealed soon! You can find details here: Het Big/Little Bang Challenge 2018"

6. Now, your fic should NOT be displayed to the general audience. It might not even show up on your dash, but fear not. You can still edit, add new chapters, mess around with it to your heart's content. We, the mods, unfortunately do not have access to your story. We cannot tell if it is properly formatted or not. THIS IS FRUSTRATING, but there's nothing we can do about it. We can only see your name. All works are titled "Mystery Works" until we reveal the entire big bang. So, please make sure your own fic is properly formatted. If you need to edit your fic, login and go to your dashboard. Go to the "Edit Works" button in the top right corner. From there, you can edit your works.

A03 will require you to format a header with all regular information on it. Remember to properly tag your works, including appropriate warnings. Both HTML and Rich Text are supported, and you can edit/delete, have multiple chapters, etc... 1. The Rich Text Editor lets you add formatting, links and pictures to text without using HTML tags. It also has an option for pasting from Word which will preserve some of your Word formatting, although please note that this is buggy. The Rich Text Editor is only available for your work text. 2. The HTML editor allows you to change the look of your text with HTML tags. It can be used in any place you can submit text, although some fields permit only a small subsection of allowed tags. You can see a full list of the allowed HTML on the Archive FAQ, but the standard HTML tags is as follows: b, big, blockquote, br, caption, center, datetime, div, dl, dt, em, h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6, height, hr, href, i, img, ins, small, span, src, strike, strong, sub, sup, table, u, and more. Also, a few years ago,

anr was a saint and provided you with a post that explained "how to format a fic for posting in less than 30 seconds no matter the story length or amount of formatting" trick. The mods won't be overly picky about formatting. I'd prefer for all dividers and scene breaks to use <*hr> (remove the *) which creates a horizontal line that serves perfectly as a scene break. However, that's optional. You choose your own way to format. Other optional suggestions, just for uniformity sake's: How do I do Chapter Titles: Bold 'em. How do I timestamp and do locations: Italicize the dates and locations. How do I do subtitle stuff: Italicize it. There is only one major fail regarding format, and that has to do with paragraphs breaks. There must be a full line break between paragraphs. Example of doing it wrong:

Chapter One: The Invasion March 6, 2005 - The City of Atlantis Elizabeth ducked quickly behind a console and attempted to catch her breath. A flush of pink colored her cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat had appeared on her brow. If the situation weren't so dire, John would have been turned on. As it was, however, he couldn't give it much thought as he had to focus on the batch of Ancient zombies that were slowly staggering in through the Stargate. "At least they can't run," he offered lamely. Elizabeth spared him a glare. "Why can't they run?" "I don't know." John shrugged. "But they never seem to run. They always lurch. Maybe when they're brought back to life they don't get knees?"

Example of doing it right:

Chapter Two: Ancient Ex-Girlfriends Yes, They're Zombies Too Elizabeth peeked around the consol. "Oh, my god," she breathed. "Is that--" "Chaya?!" John squeaked. "Talk about creepy ex-girlfriends." Rodney scrunched his nose. "She doesn't look good in green." John cringed and crouched down lower. "Do you think she's their leader?" Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "Well, this may be better for us." She narrowed her eyes at John. "We can give them you in trade for a cease fire--" Something caught her attention behind John and she broke off. "No, wait. Look to the left! That's... oh, god, John. That's Teer!" John and Rodney stared in disbelief. "Damn you, Kirk!" Rodney groused, and hit John upside the head. "We're going to be killed by a legion of your dead ex-girlfriends!" "Okay, everybody calm down," John soothed. "Let's not overreact and go blaming--" "Hey, look, your ex-wife!" "What?!!"

Grammar and Spelling fail: If your fic doesn't look beta'ed, we will call you on it, which will create an AWKWARD situation for both of us. Having a beta is a REQUIREMENT. Grammar, spelling, proper paragraph structure, etc... these are all REQUIREMENTS. You need to give your beta ample opportunity to go over your fic for mistakes and edits, so remember to factor that into your deadline. Don't have a beta? Check out this post!

Can I post it to my journal a few days early to show my friends? No. The first time you show your fic for this big bang must be on Debut Day, on this comm. Mods will handle the revealing details. There will be more posts on that to come. Once the Big Bang collection goes live on Oct 1, feel free to post your stuff wherever. Also, please remember that extensions for final fic and art submissions will not be granted. Please make sure your stories and art are submitted no later than September 26th. If you absolutely cannot make it, contact a mod immediately - either via email at thehetbigbang [at] gmail.com, or on the Page-A-Mod post, or PM

red_b_rackham or

traycer_. Lastly, remember if you need some to cry, scream, flail, yell triumphantly, encourage, cheerlead, etc, don't hesitate to check out the support comm and throw up some posts for each other!

YOU'RE ALMOST THERE!!

from Het Big Bang https://ift.tt/2zwUXAi via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Het Big Bang #hbb2015

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architectnews · 3 years

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arch8 Re-Vision competition 2021

arch8 Re-Vision Design Competition, 2021 Contest, Architectural Prize News

arch8 Re-Vision Design Competition 2021

1 July 2021

arch8 Re-Vision Competition

RE-VISION

We laughed, we cried, we raged against the dying of the light, which was the ending of our favorite shows. Sitcoms have been there since the dawn of tv… From a CRT television to a flat-screen to our laptops to all-powerful OTT platforms, sitcoms have come a long way. But there is always that one show, that one sitcom you can watch over and over. Whether it’s before you go to bed, during your meals, or after finishing the most boring assignment ever.

The one with a character you admire, the one whose dialogues are like your second language, you got the idea… Right! We’ve seen it so often that we are aware of all the details. So what if we tell you that now you can change it and show people your perspective. Show them how it could have been if these sitcoms were shot in this day and age with you as their interior designer. So now, you’ll have the same people as before but with the needs of today’s world.

Whenever we propose a design for our clients, we try to incorporate every requirement of them. But our ideas are based more on our experiences and less on the profiles of the users. Because well, for God’s sake we just met them!! So if we are provided the possibility of knowing our client inside out, can we now propose the best-suited design for them? (Of course, we can!)

Having said that, ARCH8 is here with yet another competition for you all, this time an interior designing competition. We shortlisted 3 most famous sitcoms of all time: Friends, Big Bang Theory, and How I Met Your Mother.

Re-design any one of the following apartments:

1. Monica and Rachel’s apartment 2. Joey and Chandler’s apartment 3. Sheldon and Leonard’s apartment 4. Ted and Marshall’s apartment

You can download the .cad files of floor plans at arch8.in

Character Sketch

A little something to help you out.

1. MONICA: Monica is a chef in her early 30s. She is obsessive about things being clean and in order. (‘ Things shouldn’t be just ‘health department’ clean, they should be ‘Monica clean.’) She likes to host gatherings and invite people over for dinners and parties. She is the ‘mother ‘ of the group and can be sometimes dominative.

2. RACHEL: She has switched jobs from being a waitress to an executive at Ralph Lauren. All her friends come to her for fashion advice. She likes to shop. Rachel is very careless (as she says,” I shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions anymore.”) She is funny, spirited but pretty self-involved. She does not easily get along with other women (“That’s OK, Girls tend to not like me”).

3. CHANDLER: Chandler is a funny guy (Jokes are his ‘thing’). Chandler works in statistical analysis and data reconfiguration but nobody knows where he works (he’s a ‘transponster’). Chandler’s generally embarrassed by his parents, his job, and his relationship status. His sense of humor helps him cope with all of these problems. He is notoriously sarcastic. He is the highest-earning member of his friends’ circle.

4. JOEY: Joey is an actor whose work can be seen in the show “Days of Our Lives”. He is a child at heart and a foodie (Joey doesn’t share food). He likes all the kitsch art. He never gets in a serious relationship. He is dim-witted but good-natured. He likes to play foosball and is a big fan of ‘Baywatch’.

5. SHELDON: Sheldon is a theoretical physicist. He lives his life with rules and regulations and is obsessed with logical reasoning. He is interested in comic books and science fiction. Sheldon comes off as a stereotypical nerd and really has no qualms about it (but he is not crazy, his mother got him tested). He is socially awkward and likes to spend most of his time at home and at work.

6. LEONARD: He is an experimental physicist. He is a huge fan of Star Wars, science fiction, and comic books. Leonard is extremely nerdy and mainly associates with people who fit this description (“12 years after high school and I’m still at the nerd table.”). He also plays the cello. He is lactose intolerant. He lives in the apartment by Sheldon’s rules and regulations.

7. TED: Call him an architect, a hopeless romantic, or a know it all, you can say that he’s the embodiment of it all. Since college, Ted has been in many toxic relationships where he was considered an outcast or “not traditionally cool” i.e dorky. Interests… telling stories, falling in love, believing in destiny, avoiding confrontation, Renaissance Faires, crossword puzzles, Star Wars, breakfast foods, show tunes, girls who play bass guitar, giving “the best” gifts, and reading serious literature. (Random girl: What made you want to be an architect? Ted: Well you know, the soul of an artist, hands of a master craftsman… it was inevitable)

8. MARSHALL: Though he is arguably the kindest member of the group, he never shies away from a spirited debate, usually shouting “Lawyered!” if (well, “when”) he wins. A lawyer who’s madly in love with his partner in crime, Lily (his fiance). Creator of a funk band called “The Funk, The Whole Funk, And Nothing But The Funk”, he is a 6’4, supernatural (i.e Bigfoot, loch ness monster, and ghost) nerd and a foodie with a passion for star wars and playing (and winning) board games.

SUBMISSION REQUIREMENT

The Proposal to be presented on One Landscape Oriented A1 Sheet. Proposals may be presented using any technique of your choice (sketches, diagrams, 3D visualizations, model photos, CAD drawings, etc.) Team code (UIC) to be mentioned on the Top Right-Hand corner of the sheet. The proposal MUST NOT include ANY INFORMATION (name, Organization, School, etc.) that may give away your identity. All text must be in ENGLISH, with a MAXIMUM of 150 WORDS for project explanation. All dimensions should be imperial or metric units.

SUBMISSION FORMAT

841MM X 594MM Submit in .jpeg format of file size not more than 5Mb. Submit your entry at: [email protected] The subject of the mail: Your UIC (XXXXX) Name of the file uploaded: Your UIC (XXXXX)

*Participants Teamcode (UIC) will be provided by ARCH8 once you have completed the registration process.

REGISTRATION DETAILS

Indian National / Foreign National

Early-bird Registration 1st July – 15th July ’21 350 Inr / 7 US$

Standard Registration 16th July – 31st July ’21 420 Inr / 10 US$

Late Registration 1st Aug – 15th Aug ’21 540 Inr / 15 US$

NOTE: A team can have up to 3 members. The amount is non-refundable. Late registered participants will receive 5 extra days for submission.

ELIGIBILITY CRITERIA

Anyone can participate irrespective of profession or qualification, and present their ideas. Participants can submit multiple entries but that would require multiple registrations. A team can have up to 3 members.

TIMELINE

Registration deadline: 15th August 2021 Submission deadline: 20th August 2021 The submission deadline for all the participants who registered between 1st August and 15th August is 25th August 2021 Result announcement: 30th August 2021

*All the Deadlines are 23:59 – 24:00 IST (INDIA) The following dates can be a subject of modification, if necessary.

PRIZES

Total cash prize worth 15,000 INR.

Winner: Cash prize of INR 7500 + Acknowledgement on our website and social media + publication of the participants’ interview (Video) on website + 40% discount on your next architecture competition + certificate of achievement

1st Runner-up: Cash prize of INR 4500 + Acknowledgement on our website + publication of the participants’ interview (Video) on website + 30% discount on our next architecture competition + certificate of achievement

2nd Runner-up: Cash prize of INR 3000 + Acknowledgement on our website + publication of the participants’ interview (Video) on website + 20% discount on our next architecture competition + certificate of achievement

10 Honorable mentions: Acknowledgement on our website + 10% discount on our next architecture competition + certificate of achievement

Participation certificate for all the participants.

EVALUATION CRITERIA

The competition aims to explore how participants think through the basic functionality of spaces of the house, meaningful conceptualization behind design, thoughtful aesthetics, and expressive presentation.

Entries will be evaluated based on the following criteria:

1. ORIGINALITY 2. INNOVATION 3. PRESENTATION

FAQs

1. What is the nature of the competition? ‘RE-VISION’ is an open idea design competition challenge that is open for students, professionals & any individual with a creative mind.

2. Who can participate in the competition? Architecture students, Architects, Interior Designer, Civil engineers & anyone with creativity can participate in the competition.

3. How many members can be a part of a team? A team can have a maximum of 3 members. You can also participate individually.

4. Will every participant get a certificate of participation? Yes, every participant who submits a panel will receive an e-certificate.

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9. Does the 150-word limit include legends & one-liners in the sheet? No, the 150-word limit is for the proposal explanation only and it does not include the legends & one-liners on the sheet.

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1. In case you still have questions related to the briefs and the competition, please send them to [email protected] 2. It is possible to amend or update any information relating to your registration including the names of team members once registered, mail us your query at [email protected]. 3. Participant teams will be disqualified if any of the competition rules or submission requirements are not considered. 4. Team code (UIC) is the only means of identification of a team as it is an anonymous competition. Hence, a submission with its UIC will be disqualified from the competition. 5. The official language of the competition is English. 6. The registration fee is non-refundable.

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poetryofchrist · 4 years

Text

Will the real rules please stand up?

One of my pandemic projects is to map the differences between a pointed and an unpointed text of the Hebrew Bible. I am doing this using the very memorable and capable left to right version of the square text called SimHebrew.

I had 'my own version' of a left-to right abbreviation in capital letters and with a few punctuation marks for the gutturals aleph and ayin. But I converted to the lower case version developed by Jonathan Orr-Stav. (Such a Latin-letter code is an abbreviation because it takes one byte as opposed to 7 bytes in rendered Unicode, and one byte as opposed to 2 internally. Using a Unicode database is really awkward for me and the technology was new 10 years ago so it was a non-starter.)

My method of data capture is to use the unpointed Mechon-Mamre text that can be downloaded from their site (one book at a time) and to run it through the SimHebrew converter here. Then to manipulate the text in notepad until I have legitimate insert statements for my database. This is somewhat prone to error but eventually I get a clean script. (I use a combination of Word and Notepad for the necessary global changes.)

After this I create a temporary table that matches: book, chapter, a conversion of the alef-betic verse number to a real verse number, and a word by word Hebrew word in SimHebrew, full pointed text word from the Leningrad codex, the stem code, raw word form, and semantic domain from my database, the word number relative to the start of the verse, and the word id (assigned by an Oracle sequence and connecting to my word table).

I recently added 2 Kings to my data. At first I assigned the wrong chapter numbers - a little oversight. That resulted in over 5000 differences in my calculations. When I fixed the issue, the differences went down to about 230. I then discovered that M-M is treating דִּבְיוֹנִ֖ים (dbivn) which they render as dung of a dove as two words (db ivnh - apparently a poor substitute for salt). Fixing those 4 instances dropped my mismatches by 100. Then word by word I work through the remainder until the differences are accounted for.

My program that calculates the words also suggests a code snippet that will fix any discrepancy (as long as I put it in the right place in the code.) The program as it stands gets 99% of the words right on first pass now. So my predicted SimHebrew Bible is about 99% right. Sorry - for the Bible, that's not good enough.

About this time in the history of the project, I ask, Is there a better way? I know I can finish the way I have begun and my brute force spelling changes are next to 0. I have over a third of the words in my test data now and over 75% of the stems represented. But the code is specific to prefix and suffix and sometimes to particular vowel combinations in the WLC. What are the real rules?

Native speakers who 'just know' the pronunciation - what are they really doing? Certainly they have retention in memory by word form, by context, and by stem. But can I get the program to discover the shortcuts that people use? And in some ways see what they are doing. (And thereby discover the nature of the evolution of language usage.)

Here's an example: the 31 uses so far of עצר (yxr)

For yxr, the following rules are noted.

First you see that the holem is rendered as /o/ in lines 1 and 2 and others. This is default, but some words with some exceptions do not render the o.

Next (line 3) you will note that the qamats is not rendered as /o/ (or vav for rtl Hebrew) but it is in line 4, but the qamats under the second letter of the stem is rendered with prefix /i/ and /t/ in each case without suffix.

Tsere is rendered as /i/ in line 6 and 12 - but only the tsere under the last letter of the prefix. (I would like to color code these but the new editor absolutely ruins rtl display with embedded color coding.)

Notice that the final h is dropped in line 19.

Lines 26 and 27 would have rendered the qamats in the closed syllable as /o/ if the suffix had not been /u/. That's a general rule - but there are exceptions here too and exceptions to the exceptions.

Ref (book: chap: vs: (word within vs)

Stem

Word Form

Morph

Sim Source

Sim Calc.

WLC Word

Domain

Rendering

2 Chronicles 14:10(30)

yxr

iyxr

i/yxr

-iyxvr

-iyxor

־יַעְצֹר

BOUND

יעצר will coerce

1 Chronicles 29:14(7)

yxr

nyxr

n/yxr

-nyxvr

-nyxor

־נַעְצֹר

BOUND

נעצר contained of

2 Chronicles 13:20(2)

yxr

-yxr

־עָצַר

BOUND

עצר did coerce

2 Kings 4:24(9)

yxr

tyxr

t/yxr

-tyxvr

-tyxor

־תַּעֲצָר

BOUND

תעצר do detain

2 Chronicles 7:13(2)

yxr (5)

ayxr

a/yxr

ayxvr

ayxor

אֶעֱצֹר

BOUND

אעצר I contain

1 Kings 8:35(1)

yxr

bhyxr

bh/yxr

bhiyxr

בְּהֵעָצֵר

BOUND

בהעצר when is contained

2 Chronicles 6:26(1)

yxr

bhyxr

bh/yxr

bhiyxr

בְּהֵעָצֵר

BOUND

בהעצר when are contained

Amos 5:21(6)

yxr

byxrticm

b/yxr\ticm

byxrvticm

byxroticm

בְּעַצְּרֹתֵיכֶם

COVENANT

בעצרתיכם in your conclaves

2 Kings 9:8(9)

yxr

vyxvr

v/yxvr

vyxvr

vyxur

וְעָצוּר

BOUND

ועצור the contained

1 Kings 21:21(11)

yxr (10)

vyxvr

v/yxvr

vyxvr

vyxur

וְעָצוּר

BOUND

ועצור the contained

Proverbs 30:16(2)

yxr

vyxr

v/yxr

vyvxr

vyoxr

וְעֹצֶר

BOUND

ועצר and contained

1 Chronicles 21:22(17)

yxr

vtyxr

vt/yxr

vtiyxr

וְתֵעָצַר

BOUND

ותעצר that may be contained

2 Kings 17:4(20)

yxr

viyxrhv

vi/yxr\hv

viyxrhv

viyxrhu

וַיַּעַצְרֵהוּ

BOUND

ויעצרהו so detained him

Job 4:2(5)

yxr

vyxr

v/yxr

vyxvr

vyxor

וַעְצֹר

BOUND

ועצר but contain

Psalms 106:30(4)

yxr (15)

vtyxr

vt/yxr

vtiyxr

וַתֵּעָצַר

BOUND

ותעצר and was contained

Job 12:15(2)

yxr

iyxr

i/yxr

iyxvr

iyxor

יַעְצֹר

BOUND

יעצר he contains

2 Chronicles 2:5(2)

yxr

iyxr

i/yxr

iyxvr

iyxor

יַעֲצָר

BOUND

יעצר contains

1 Kings 18:44(19)

yxr

iyxrch

i/yxr\ch

iyxvrç

iyxorc

יַעַצָרְכָה

BOUND

יעצרכה detain you

2 Chronicles 22:9(27)

yxr

lyxr

l/yxr

lyxvr

lyxor

לַעְצֹר

BOUND

לעצר to coerce

Psalms 107:39(3)

yxr (20)

myxr

m/yxr

myvxr

myoxr

מֵעֹצֶר

BOUND

מעצר through coercion of

Proverbs 25:28(8)

yxr

myxr

m/yxr

myxr

מַעְצָר

BOUND

מעצר containment

2 Chronicles 7:9(4)

yxr

yxrt

yxr\t

yxrt

עֲצָרֶת

COVENANT

עצרת a conclave

Joel 1:14(4)

yxr

yxrh

yxr\h

yxrh

עֲצָרָה

COVENANT

עצרה a conclave

Joel 2:15(7)

yxr

yxrh

yxr\h

yxrh

עֲצָרָה

COVENANT

עצרה a conclave

2 Kings 10:20(4)

yxr (25)

yxrh

yxr\h

yxrh

עֲצָרָה

COVENANT

עצרה a conclave

Job 29:9(2)

yxr

yxrv

yxr\v

yxrv

yxru

עָצְרוּ

BOUND

עצרו contained

2 Chronicles 20:37(19)

yxr

yxrv

yxr\v

yxrv

yxru

עָצְרוּ

BOUND

עצרו could be coerced

2 Kings 14:26(10)

yxr

yxvr

yxur

עָצוּר

BOUND

עצור coercion

Jeremiah 36:5(7)

yxr

yxvr

yxur

עָצוּר

BOUND

עצור am detained

1 Chronicles 12:1(7)

yxr (30)

yxvr

yxur

עָצוּר

BOUND

עצור he contained himself

1 Kings 14:10(12)

yxr

yxvr

yxur

עָצוּר

BOUND

עצור those who are contained

All that is pretty straightforward. But what are the real rules?

Some of my rules are miles long conditions; strings of stems with prefix and suffix combinations and the occasional appeal to an odd Unicode value.

The 'rules' are long for when to render hireq as /i/.

200 distinct stems which do not contain a yod are allowed to render hireq as yod without exception.

Another 281 allow hireq as yod on an exception basis.

Only 7 stems containing a yod disallow hireq as yod.

Another 46 disallow it on an exception basis.

Hireq is usually ignored in a closed syllable - but there are exceptions and exceptions by word form to the exceptions (only 8 stems).

Hireq is rendered as /ii/ for several reasons. When the prefix is i, and for tsere, patah, and qamats occasionally. What! these also are rendered as o or v sometimes. Who can know?

Any ideas?

I have been debating whether to design a data table for the rule combinations. I don't want to do it unless I cannot simplify the code. Last time I asked I discovered several simplifications. Looking for more...

Here's the rule for qamats becoming vav (RTL) or /o/ (SIM): I have converted the code to 'English'

Unconditionally for stems ahl, anih, arc, avn, bvw, ctl, grn, iq+n, iqwn, irqym, nvh, rnn, yziali, zvh,

(+ is my single letter internal abbreviation for tet ט.)

or the stem is +rk and prefix suffix combination in (none, cm)

or the stem is +hr and prefix suffix combination in (none, t, c, t)

or the stem is abd and prefix suffix combination in (b, n)

or the stem is acl and prefix suffix combination in (l, h, b, nu)

or the stem is adm and v_prefix = m and the first part of the word is m with a schwa

or the stem is amn and the word form is amn and there is no tsere under the second stem letter

or prefix suffix combination = b, h

or the stem is ark and v_suffix in (ti, vt)

or the stem is bit and v_suffix in (icm)

or the stem is bzz and prefix suffix combination in (i, vm)

or the stem is cvl and prefix suffix combination in (v, clu)

or the stem is csh and prefix suffix combination in (none, u)

or the stem is dbr and prefix suffix combination in (b, c)

or the stem is gal and prefix suffix combination in (l, c)

or the stem is gbh and prefix suffix combination = l, h

or the stem is gml and prefix suffix combination in (none, h,none, c)

or the stem is hrh and prefix suffix combination in (vh, tihm)

or the stem is ivn and prefix suffix combination in (none, none)

or the stem is iwr and prefix suffix combination in (none, o, b, o)

or the stem is imn and prefix suffix combination in (m, none)

or the stem is isd and prefix suffix combination in (b, i)

or the stem is knn and not (suffix in (u) and there's a qamats under the second letter) and the domain is not in (PERSON, LOCATION)

or the stem is kq and v_suffix not in (u)

or the stem is kgg and prefix suffix combination in (none, i)

or the stem is krb and prefix suffix combination in (none, h, l, h)

or the stem is krm and prefix suffix combination in (none, h, vb, h)

or the stem is kwc and prefix suffix combination in (none, i)

or the stem is kzq and prefix suffix combination in (b, h, b, nu)

or the stem is lcd and prefix suffix combination in (l, h)

or the stem is mlc and prefix suffix combination in (l, o, b, o, c, o)

or the stem is mvt and prefix suffix combination in (h, h)

or the stem is pyl and prefix suffix combination in (c, h)

or the stem is q+n and prefix suffix combination in (none, i)

or the stem is qdw and v_suffix in (im, iv)

or the stem is qra and prefix suffix combination in (none, nu, none, ic, none, im)

or the stem is qrk and prefix suffix combination is none, h

or the stem is rb and prefix suffix combination in (b, none)

or the stem is sll and prefix suffix combination in (none, vh)

or the stem is rbb and prefix suffix combination in (v, none)

or the stem is rbb and prefix suffix combination in (hb, none)

or the stem is rkb and prefix suffix combination not in (none, none)

or the stem is rkx and prefix suffix combination in (l, h)

or the stem is tmm and prefix suffix combination in (b, none) and the first two letters of the word are not m

or the stem is wby and prefix suffix combination in (m, h, l, h)

or the stem is wcb and prefix suffix combination in (b, o)

or the stem is wcr and prefix suffix combination is l, h

or the stem is wdd and prefix suffix combination in (i, m)

or the stem is wmr and prefix suffix combination in (a, none,vl, h,none, h)

or the stem is wp+ and prefix suffix combination in (none, h)

or the stem is wr and suffix in (c, rc)

or the stem is wrw and prefix suffix combination in (none, ih)

or the stem is xrp and prefix suffix combination in (none, h)

or the stem is ybd and prefix suffix combination in (l, h)

or the stem is yni and prefix suffix combination in (none, nu)

or the stem is yzz and prefix suffix combination in (none, i)

or the stem is zcr and prefix suffix combination in (b, nu)

or the stem is yzr and prefix suffix combination in (l, ni, l, u,none, ni,none, nu)

then

the qamats under the first letter of the stem becomes /o/.

And by the way if the stem is qdw and v_suffix in (im) then the schwa under the first letter becomes /o/!

(or maybe only v)

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shytiff · 4 years

Text

Small August Wins

1 - DL, did my part for PKP, read a bit about leprosy reaction (PKP related), watched a cute movie tune in for love, ara stayed over at my home, edited 1 pld article

2 - exercised a bit, edited 3 pld articles, DL, finished ppt tinpus PKP, walked to the nearby lake with ara, ate nasgor smoked chicken (been a while!) and jco donuts and my tummy is happy, felt afraid with DV exam huft. I hope I can prepare myself properly

3 - DL, edited 1 article, went to school together w ara, deep fried by dr adhi for my minicex (but i am grateful for the opportunity), emir took a while to pick me up (he left home 1530 and arrived 1715) so i did some status work, arrived at home super hungry but moms food is delicious and wow glucose is finally in (after previously supported by nasi uduk and 1 jco donut) and the pain from today sort of fades away.

4 - DL, tried to study as much as i could (the panic is real), went to kencana to get dr adhis signature at 12 but he replied my chat at about 1330 🙃 , finished self reflection, group called with my group for exam prep

5 - did not DL bcs i fell asleep!! Thank god for streak freeze, met up with dr adhi in poli regarding minicex bcs turns out he brought my status etc, hes very kind 🥺 dr yudo kindly took his time to answer questions via wa voicenote even though he had a tiring day 🥺 bless all the kind people in this world

6 - DL, alhamdulillah passed the exam with dr sondang and dr larissa even though i was being a dumb ass student (thankfully theyre patient enough). Honestly panicked during the morning, i was super afraid. Searched some drug dosage for renata. I hope she passes the remed!!

7 - slept and lazed all day :( edited 1 article, dv closing. Managed to say thanks to dr yudo even though i was lowkey near tears bcs i cant for the life of me say something even mildy emotional, DL at like 15 mins before midnight

8 - finally at lvl 3 DL by cheating with my notes lmaoo, ate burgers and half pizza by dcheese pizza but had mencret2 the next day lmaooo, watched bosscha virtual sky sightseeing

9 - DL, watched Summer Vacation, edited 2 articles, put some sheet mask on (the numbers surely diminished since my cousin took some 🙂 ), pretty much watched youtube all day. At night i dreamed going to a villa that kinda looks like matamori, and the villa near it was also booked by other groups of friend, and i was recording snow falling from the sky and snow on the cliffs, but there was also a snake under the bed, and writing patients resume -_-(?)

10 - DL, read pem psikiatri cbt batch 1 optima, 25 CBT PADI, a fruitful 2,5 hr discussion with dr Heriani, SpKJ

11 - DL, poli with mendel hari and dr Khamelia, SpKJ, mustered some courage to do the ppt, phoned the patient to ask a little bit more, fell asleep and thank god i’ve prayed isya

12 - DL, lazied and played get rich, felt sick and was sick, nose congested, head starting to hurt, i dont know what is it that triggered my emotions but when my dad asked "tiff kok bersin2?" i felt like i have no privacy and they were too intruding and i wept silently in my room (bcs ppl outside can hear) and yall my nose just goes 100% blocked. aint accepting air today. Massaged my face around the sinus area until i can somehow breathe nicely and fall asleep. (took about half and hour of snot cleaning, drinking and mulling around)

13 - since i felt bad abt lazying i started my day early. Woke up at 5. Put on tretinoin, 15 CBT PADI, DL, naskah psikiatri WIP (Work in progress). It rained today. The sky was grey half of the day, which I LOVE. I felt better and more cheery, especially at abt 4-5 pm when it was raining hard and im snuggled in bed. The laptop stand arrived and bitch it was fucking amazing. My back and neck muscles felt less awkward and/or sore working at my ergonomically-awful table and chair combo turned ok thanks to laptop stand!!

14 - DL, poli with dr cika, crashed aras place (drank thai tea, ate flip burger and sausages), it felt refreshing to be in a different place rather than seeing my room all day everyday. Afterwards ara indah and i ate po noodle bar, the taste was kind of herbal (not brothy) in a good way. Tried some sort of gyoza, it was good too. Juan got accepted at USU civic engineering. Went to atikahs place, passed a red light and i got ppl a bit annoyed lmao sorry :(((, talked with atikah until 1-2ish pm

15 - richeese and fried rice for brunch time, went back home (felt socially refreshed!) to see 2 bottles of sbux coffee i ordered, claras nastar and vit d supplement from tokped. Did RPS and ikhtisar for naskah. DL. Sbux' coffee still upsets my stomach lmao but it did keep me awake and focused enough til 11 pm

16 - DL, after staying over at friends place i feel.suer content to be just at home. Ate while watching erna limdaughs vids, sleeeept

17 - DL, naskah WIP, whipped myself to go do naskah by drinking caramel macchiato and playing coffee - bts. It tasted better when i hear jks soothing voice

18 - DL, finally panicked a bit and did ppt, read a bit abt bipolar, chugged hazelnut dolce latte and somehow its not bitter anymore it actually tasted good. Talked w mendel and hari a bit abt the patient

19 - the dr actually showed up to zoom while i was opening other screen and i didnt realize (ultra embarrassing!!!) basically my diagnosis for axis I and II were wrong. She was kindly explaining and i was more dissapointed with myself but at least its all over? Talked w hansel a bit. Revised a bit of naskah. Submitted hardcopy of naskah and refleksi to mbak Asma. Went to ara. DL, ate gwen's dimsum (quite good and fulfilling). Planned to go to kashiwa but we ended up getting bakmi akiaw. Went back "home" to DM, took only 35 mins.

20 - DL, slept half of the day since im on my period (what even is daily structure), woke up in the evening, decided to start “the folk of the air” series. Binged the first book in one go, from 8 pm to 1 am lmaoo

21 - DL, finished the series at night. it’s nice but not as good as six of crows duology. bts comeback with dynamite!! :) i love them. its scary to think they are still progressing and going up and getting better stats. When will it all stop?

22 - discussion with dr natalia spKJ at 7.30 am, DL, drank matcha latte at starbucks airport hub (been a while! It doesnt taste quite good as i remembered) while backing up HD data at drive and some padi CBT (finished TO 3. After all this time, only to 3?!), felt a bit better after i went out, read a falling cohabitation again

23 - DL, danced to baepsae, slept in the afternoon (my body is too weak nowadays)

24 - DL, psychiatry closing, 1 pamela reif vid, 2P (CBT PADI)

25 - DL, made latar belakang for propeks nemo

26 - DL, 4P, rapat nemo

27 - DL, met up with atikah pupuy @ toska, tried yogurt and fruit, mac and cheese, vegan mentai rice and had dinner @ bakmi gm. mom somehow told (and allowed) me to go back home (it was 9 am and i was abt to stay over at atikah’s)

28 - DL, i dont feel like doing anything helppp, i know there’s stuff that im supposed to do but i cant bring myself to do it. a week will pass by, a month, and before you know it exam will arrive

29 - DL, ordered burgushi, i literally have no strength to go at static bike (can only do for a couple of mins), didnt rly do anything else bcs im in a slump nowadays

30 - its scary that the month is almost over again. my life just goes away like that but i still dont feel like doing anything, DL, tried to follow some dances on youtube to move my body

31 - DL, 2A, 4P

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awkwardshanandagins · 6 years

Text

It’s A Good Day To Feel Sorry for Myself

Friday, June 30, 2017, was a day I’ll always remember. I wish I was saying that because something amazing happened in my life, but unfortunately, it was not amazing. It was, however, life changing.

My lovely friend and hair dresser, Julia, worked me into a 7:00 a.m. appointment. I told her a few days before that I was going to postpone getting my hair done since I’m not working and I don’t know if or when short term disability will kick in. My pubey gray hairs were popping out all over my damn head but without knowing if I’m going to be paid, I didn’t want to spend money where I didn’t have to. She wasn’t having it. She knew how terrible I was feeling and told me I would feel better with pretty hair. S he convinced me to still come in and said she wouldn’t charge. She’s one of my people. She’s one you know will lift your spirits when you’re having a hard time crawling out of your black hole. Not only was she not charging me, she worked me in when she didn’t really have an opening. So 7:00 a.m. it was.

I always enjoy my time with Julia. She is friends with my sister and my parents and she knows everything about our family. She’s easy to talk to and always listens while I bitch about my problems. Hair stylists are also therapists so if you can’t afford both, pick a hair stylist, you’ll get therapy too!

I was a nervous wreck on Friday. It was day three into my three to five day wait for my MRI results. Were they really going to make me go five days? That means I would have sat all weekend long just letting this shit eat away at me.

I had a doctor’s appointment that day at 10:10 with my OBGYN. It was the post op to the laparoscopy I had the month prior. I got there early, per usual. My whole life is pretty much me showing up early to things and waiting. It’s a problem. Anyways, I’m checking in at the little kiosk Kaiser offers now and my phone rings. I could tell by the number that it was Kaiser calling me. Dear lord, here we go. It was Dr. Miller, my optometrist wondering if I had a few minutes. I continued to check in while his voice rang through my head. Honestly, I don’t even know how I checked myself in, I was not even paying attention to what I was doing. Lucky for me, I’ve been spending so much time at Kaiser it was like second nature. Dr. Miller informed me my MRI results came back and he did find white matter on my brain. I’m using the term “white matter” loosely here. I feel like that’s what he said but I don’t fully remember. Basically, he found lesions throughout my brain. He said he’d be referring me to a neurologist and they’d be calling me to make an appointment. The lesions are what they look for to diagnose MS. Don’t worry he assured me, it doesn’t mean I have it and the neurologist would be able to give me more answers. Don’t worry? Okay sure. He was able to diagnose the optic neuritis from the MRI so that was a definite. Wooo! One answer. Finally, one definite answer. Also, don’t worry? You, sir, can suck it! How do you not worry? If anyone can answer that about any situation ever, I would be eternally grateful. Anyone? Bueller?

How do you not worry when so far you have every symptom of MS that you’ve seen. First sign, optic neuritis? Check! Lesions on your brain shown in a MRI? Check! Every other symptom I’ve been reading about for the last week and a half? Check check check! It’s MS; I’ve already diagnosed myself. Thanks, doctors, for starting to catch up.

I felt like I was punched in the gut. I was now standing by the elevator which would take me up to my OBGYN appointment, only I wasn’t getting on. Nope, instead I was standing in everyone’s way not realizing I was being the person I hate. I cannot stand when people act as if only their presence matters and you can fucking walk around. Once I realized I was blocking a man in a wheelchair, I stepped out of the way. “So do I have it or not have it?” I’m sure I sounded completely panicked and breathy. It could really go either way he said. He ended the call by telling me to write everything down because the neurologist would pretty much interrogate me. He also informed me he couldn’t fill out the FMLA paperwork and to take it to the neurologist.

My boss had pretty much forced me into taking time off earlier in the week. I’m pretty sure it was God working through her. He knew I needed to not be working and that I wouldn’t step back myself so he shoved me into it. Not working relieved stress over the past two days, but dealing with HR and FMLA added it’s own level of stress.

Checked in for my appointment, I sat down in the waiting room as far away from people as I could. My eyes were welted with tears and I’m sure my face was as white as a sheet. I sat there thinking what this means for my life. Should I call my husband? Or maybe text him? I was frozen. I didn’t do anything. I just sat there, staring at a wall, mouth half opened with a glazed over look in my eyes. I definitely looked crazy at this point. That’s okay, crazy keeps people away.

The nurse, Lisa, probably the kindest soul I had encountered in some time, called me back. “How are you?” I’m okay. Lies! I was far from okay but it is not socially acceptable to verbally diarrhea all over someone when they ask how you are. They are asking to be nice, not because they actually want to know. “Well, how have you been feeling?” She looked back at me, which by this time we were under some awesome fluorescent lights which make everyone look like a fucking nightmare and said “oh, you don’t look like you feel well.”

I completely broke down and not just because we were now standing next to the scale I knew my fat ass had to get on. Poor Lisa. She was so kind. She got me kleenex while waiting for me to pull my shit together. I somehow got a few words out and let her know I just got some scary news and hadn’t had time to process. She rubbed my back while I sniffled and snotted all over the place for a few more seconds. It’s not unlike me to cry in public. I’m a fucking disaster like 90% of the time. At least this time I had good reason. I let her know the news I had gotten and her face looked genuinely sad for me.

The table was unusually low to the ground this time. I thought to myself that Dr. Barton would have to kneel if he was going to get face to face with my vagina. How odd. We went through the normal questions while tears continued to stream down my face. I had at least pulled myself together enough to talk. She told me to get undressed from the waist down and the doctor would be in shortly. I thought today was just for talking, but lucky me, I get to unleash the vagina.

Dr. Barton came in and immediately patted me on the back. He said Lisa informed him of what’s going on and that he was so sorry. He sat in front of me, which I was at like chest height from the damn table being so low. Awkward. He told me how his mom had MS and that if she were alive today, she would have been a different woman with all the advances they’ve made with treatments. We talked about my pain I was still having. Pelvic pain has been a constant in my life so I assumed the surgery just didn’t do what we had hoped. He was concerned there were other issues. He pushed around on my abdomen while giving me the ol’ one-two POW. You know, the two finger exam. Everything hurt. Everything. He got the cold metal rod out. My favorite. That felt like a fucking dagger being jolted into my uterus. I had my head turned towards the wall, tears still streaming down my face. He told me he wanted to look at my ovaries since he did the ovarian drilling; he wanted to make sure they were healing appropriately. Out comes the giant wand. I seriously wanted to cry just looking at it. Oh that’s right, I was already crying. Holy balls that thing hurt.

“Well you have a large cyst on your left ovary.” Cool. Do you want to just punch me in the fucking face while you’re at it? Just add it to the list of reasons I’m feeling sorry for myself and let’s move on. He let me know it definitely wasn’t there during surgery and had developed since. He assured me this is good news because tumors don’t usually show up this fast so it had to be a normal cyst. He said he’d watch it to be sure but he was almost certain it would go away on it’s own. If not, it would require more surgery. That’s a fun thought right now. I really hope at this point, you can read the sarcasm in my head.

Not only was the cyst present, he was sure I had a uterine infection from the surgery. He apologized that he caused that but said sometimes it just happens, even with the sterile room and tools used during surgery. He felt genuinely bad. He knew it was just adding to my sadness. I assured him it’s not his fault, simply what my body does. I got an infection when I had a uterine biopsy as well. That PA let the infection go for a few months though. At least he was catching this now. He said my pain is from a mix of the cyst and the infection. He ordered an antibiotic shot to give me for the infection and quickly realized he couldn’t give it to me because of my penicillin allergy. Instead, I got a lovely 14 day supply of doxycyclene. Fun! Now I can’t even drink my problems away and to top it off, a yeast infection will be in my near future no matter how much yogurt I eat or probiotics I take. I’m convinced at this point my body hates me.

Finished up the appointment with a urine test and a super long line at the pharmacy. Dr. Barton scheduled me an appointment for the following Monday to check in on the infection. If I am still in pain by then, he’s going to add another antibiotic into the mix. The optometrist’s office called and had scheduled me a follow up appointment as well, for the end of July to check my vision. The neurologist’s office called me while I was in line at the pharmacy. They scheduled me for July 17th. Why in the world would they make people wait that long? I’m pretty sure they are here to torture me. Too dramatic?

I had a lot of time just sitting by myself throughout the 2+ hours at Kaiser. I tend to be a dramatic person, I’m aware of this. Usually by now, I would have texted and called all my family members to tell them what is wrong with me but today was different. This was a lot. I needed time to process and gather my thoughts. I still had that panicky dumb face on throughout it all but it kept people far away from me so I didn’t even try to change it.

As soon as I got in my car, I let go. I let the tears gush out. There had been a very slow and steady trickle but now it was like fucking Niagara Falls. I pulled it together quick. There was a cute little family by my car looking around for their car. They had no idea where they parked. I sympathized. I’m usually that person.

First call I made was to Paul. I told him what was going on while I sobbed. Sobbing, driving, talking on the phone, all with only one eye. I’ve gotten pretty good at this over the last week. By the end of the call, I could hear him crying on his end. This shattered my heart. I cannot stand to hear my husband cry. He has the softest and kindest soul of anyone I know. I hate that he was hurting. I assured him I would be okay and everything would be fine. I like taking care of other people, it helps take the focus off myself.

I called my mom next. She and my dad had just recently retired and were on a trip to Maine with my aunts and uncles. They almost didn’t even go because of everything going on but I assured them they needed to go and have some fun. There was absolutely nothing they could do so there was no point in canceling. My mom was so sad at everything I had to tell her. She wept on the phone and promised me she didn’t do cocaine while she was pregnant with me. This has been an ongoing joke in my family for sometime. We have sick humor. I don’t know about anyone else, but I cannot handle when my parents cry. It breaks my heart to hear them so sad. I promised them I would be fine and they needed to enjoy the rest of their trip.

I called my sister and told her what was going on. She and my parents are my biggest support after Paul. She told me she’d be over to pick me up shortly because I needed to get out of the house and be around people. As much as I wanted to curl up in a ball and hide, she was right. We went and walked around Olde Town which is only a few blocks from my house. We took her two youngest to the candy store and she and I got coffee at this cute little place called Global Goods. We sat and talked and laughed. My sister and I can always laugh. We are our own biggest fans. We find ourselves hilarious. We went to the Army Navy Surplus store where I bought a pair of sweats I wanted to live in for the next few months. I won’t actually allow myself to. However, I am wearing them at this moment. We all need a good pair of fat pants. Then we headed to the library to check out some books and movies. The library is my favorite place again. I stopped visiting the library when I was super young. I had been buying books I want to read over the past couple years which is so dumb. Why buy them when you can check them out for free? Especially now that I’m not working.

I checked out a book on MS. My sister opened it up and just so happened to start reading at a point where it said “it’s okay to feel sorry for yourself.” Phew! Good thing because I’m in that stage hardcore.

I’m thankful my sister picked me up. I didn’t know how much I needed her but I did. She also ended up waxing my eyebrows which I didn’t even know how much I needed. They were quickly turning into a uni. I spent the rest of that evening crying and shoving my face with pizza. Probably should have eaten healthier at that moment but cooking was the last thing I wanted to do.

This has definitely not been one of my better weekends. As much as I’ve been keeping myself busy, the crazy and usually depressing thoughts just pop back up at the most inconvenient times. I know it will all be okay and in a sense, I am relieved at the news. I have not felt well or even right for a few years. Doctors have made me feel crazy as they’ve continually told me that I’m fine because my blood work was normal. Obviously, not everything shows in your blood. I should have pushed harder. You definitely have to be your own advocate when it comes to doctors and I had let myself down the past couple years.

As devastating as the news is, I can see the silver lining. There is now light at the end of this very dark tunnel. I had given up hope that they would ever figure out why I always felt so terrible. I had accepted the fact that I was probably just crazy and a hypochondriac. I had accepted the fact that I was just always going to feel this way. I no longer have to accept that. With a diagnosis comes a treatment plan. I can feel like a normal person again and that is something I never thought would come.

This is just yet another bump in the road on our infertility journey. Life has some unexpected twists and turns but we’ll ride it out because we know God has good things in store for us, even though we may not understand his timing of it all.

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