#mind you I'm not a doctor. I just live with type 1 and have done a level of research on it for school and personal purposes

[egginfroggin]

I don't mean to sound complainy, but one of my pet peeves is when ads, books, or what-have you talk about diabetes being a reversible condition and utterly refuse to specify what kind of diabetes they're talking about.

For those who may not know (and I don't blame you, diabetes is a very complex issue):

Type 1 diabetes is a condition that results from the body attacking itself by specifically destroying insulin-producing cells in the pancreas. These cells, the islets of Langerhans, do not regenerate or divide, and are permanently gone when they die. Type 1 diabetes cannot be reversed, only treated.

Type 2 diabetes is a condition wherein the body does not metabolize carbohydrates, insulin, or glucagon (a hormone produced and stored in the liver; raises blood sugar when released) properly, causing a rise in blood sugar. It may involve insulin resistance or overutilization of glucagon, among other things. In some cases, type 2 diabetes can be reversed, usually through diet and exercise (however, this is not a certain outcome, and some people may need medication).

To summarize:

Type 1 diabetes: body does not produce enough insulin. Permanent condition. Symptoms managed.

Type 2 diabetes: body does not utilize insulin or carbohydrates properly. May be reversed. Often treated with diet and exercise, in addition to medication, if patient is overweight.

Needless to say, that is a very distinct difference! One may even say crucial! After all, they are two conditions that have similar outcomes, but very different causes.

You do not tell a type 1 diabetic, "oh just exercise and eat better, it'll fix it," because, I am so sorry to disappoint, we do not know pancreatic necromancy. If we did, well, then, type 1 wouldn't be an issue, now would it?

I feel like it really isn't hard to put in the two words, "type 2," before "diabetes" in your advertisement or book, yet I keep seeing it. Yes, I know that most diabetics have type 2, but still -- is it really so hard?

(Yes I'm bitter. Back in my wee days of diabetes, when I was still using syringes and lamenting the sheer number of carbs in cake, I was severely disappointed upon finding that the majority of sources claiming that diabetes wasn't permanent were referring to the type that I specifically did not have. Very disappointed. Rub it in, why don't you.)

So, yes, please specify! It could very much save an already-stressed child, teenager, or even an adult (as type 1 can surface in adults as well) a good two hours of fuming and lamenting their lot in life.

Also you'll have fewer enemies with needles at their disposal.

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER SEVEN: Downward Spiral

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: After agreeing to go on a date with Matt, you start realizing the weight of your decision, and your thoughts begin spiraling. In a moment of need, you turn to the only close friend you have in Hell's Kitchen, hoping she can pull you away from the edge of the very steep cliff your trauma is trying to throw you into.

Warnings for this chapter: ANGST (the caps feel appropriate here), mentions of domestic violence, suicidal thoughts, allusions to a suicide attempt, allusions to sexual assault, mentions of being taken advantage of by a superior, (I guess you could say) mentions of hypersexuality, self-loathing, PTSD, some foreshadowing, mental breakdown, alcohol, Season 1 related plot (spoilers)

Word Count: 6.4k

A/n: Surprise! I'm posting early because I'm going to see my family this weekend, and after I had an epiphany at two in the morning and spent 3 days writing this, I got it done, and I'm actually quite proud of this (or maybe it's the caffeine). Anyway, heed the warnings because the topics of conversation in this are pretty dark. That's why I highlighted the angst. And if you haven't watched past episode 1 of Season 1, this might spoil some things for you. (Also, I have no idea how this turned into a beast with a word count over 6k. Sorry in advance.)

Read Chapter 7: Downward Spiral here on AO3

You don’t know what came over you.

You typed in Matt’s number in a moment of weakness, and once you heard his voice through the line, you gave up on being careful. You gave up on denying yourself what you’re so desperately craving, and you abandoned all rational thought.

For him.

You promised not to get attached to someone ever again—let alone a man. You started a new life in Hell’s Kitchen to find your way back to normalcy. You took all the necessary precautions, and even though you look back at the shreds of your old life every day, you are never going back.

Two years. That is the longest you have managed to stay in one place ever since you left California. But you still haven’t found your way back into the real world.

You have been guarding yourself, afraid of having your heart broken, afraid of losing this chance at a new life, and afraid of the man who ruined you. 

Every time you close your eyes, you see his face. You hear his voice in the back of your mind. He’s everywhere, even when you don’t want him to be. 

It’s easier to put a wall between yourself and everyone else. A wall no one can break through, not even yourself. You trapped your soul for the sole purpose of keeping yourself alive after you made the hardest decision of your life. When you ran, you believed your life was over, but you have always been too much of a coward to end your misery. God knows you’ve tried, but even a trained doctor can’t fully understand death, and some things just don’t work out the way we want them to. 

Drunken one-night stands can’t possibly compare to a meaningful emotional connection, but they satisfy the need for physical intimacy. At least for a little while. It killed you; slowly, almost pathetically, but sleeping with strangers in dirty motel rooms did a better job than you ever could. 

For the longest time, you used sex as a coping mechanism. You let strange men use you because that is the only way you know how to be with someone else. You let them hurt you to feel something, anything because pain is better than feeling nothing at all. But when you finally got settled in Hell’s Kitchen, thanks to Claire, you stopped. 

You locked up your heart and threw away the key. You started to shield your body the same way you have shielded your soul. You retreated into a shell of restlessness and constant fear of every little sliver of hope you feel being taken away from you. 

You have nowhere else to run, which is why keeping a low profile is so important to you, but after two years, don’t you deserve to finally live? 

We don’t exist to just survive; we exist to live the life we were given. You are Olivia Clarke now, not the broken girl you left behind, but every time you think about it, his voice returns and backs you into a corner that you can’t escape from. 

Every time you see the scars on your body, all you want to do is rip the skin off your bones and feed it to the dogs. 

The men you slept with while you were running from your past saw you as a mere object, and you are used to being seen that way, but it was isolating nonetheless. They didn’t care about your scars, they only cared about what you could give them. They treated you like he did without lifting a finger. 

Even though you don’t do that anymore, it still weighs heavy on your wounded soul. 

Matt treats you like a person. He can’t physically see, but he still sees you. He sees you in a way no one has ever seen you before. And he is gentle, and patient, and—

You scream into your pillow. Your nose still hurts, but it is nothing compared to how fast your heart is beating. 

To you, Matt is perfect. You know that no one can be perfect, and you should be careful, but he makes you feel things you have long denied yourself. He makes you feel wanted. Desired. Like you can be yourself around him and still be worthy of his attention. Like you matter. And he has a certain way of being around you that makes you feel protected, almost. 

You don’t need protection. You have made it this far without a bodyguard by your side. You know how to fight your own battles better than most, but you can’t deny that you wouldn’t mind being saved by him. 

You wouldn’t mind those hands he always wraps around his cane to wrap around you instead. He can’t see your scars, but he can feel them, and as terrifying as that thought sounds, it also excites you. 

You’re treading dangerous territory, but God, he won’t leave you alone, not even when you’re trying to sleep. He could offer you a sense of normal that you have long missed. He could teach you how to be a person again. And maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself be cared for by him. 

You roll back onto your back when you need to breathe, one of your hairs getting stuck to your lip. You let out an annoyed huff. There won’t be much sleeping tonight, you’re sure. Not when you keep thinking about tomorrow.

“You’re not fifteen anymore,” you mutter to yourself. “What is wrong with you? God!”

It’s almost too surreal to believe that this magnetic force of a man managed to retrieve some of your long-lost hope, and he only had to call you beautiful once for you to be completely smitten. 

When he allowed you to take care of his injuries on the first day you met, you didn’t think a person could be this guarded yet so vulnerable at the same time. He’s breaking under an invisible weight that must have been on his shoulders for years, maybe even decades. You’re painfully aware of other people’s feelings, and it wasn’t hard to tell that Matt carries a lot of unresolved pain with him. Always. He reminds you so much of yourself, it’s like staring into a mirror. Two broken halves of a whole. 

Your thoughts won’t stand still, no matter how hard you try. You’re stuck inside an invisible hourglass. Not even heaven knows what will happen once time runs out. You don’t understand why you’re overthinking this while, at the same time, knowing exactly why. And you hate it. 

There is a part of you that you can never get back. A little girl who grew up too fast. A girl who didn’t know any better. A broken teenager who wanted nothing more than to escape and live a better life than her parents could ever give her, and when she did manage to escape one hell, she found herself in a new quarter of purgatory built just for you.

You used to think that maybe you just bring the worst out in people, but after seeing the worst of humanity outside of your broken relationships, too, you’re not so sure about that anymore.

The fact that you don’t understand why you can’t stop your usually so intelligent brain from spinning out of control makes you want to claw at the walls of your apartment that threaten to cave in on you.

Part of you wants nothing more than to run and never look back, but you can’t run forever. This time, you wouldn’t be running from the Devil; you would be running from a fear of your own feelings. Human feelings. Feelings that have a high likelihood of recurring, and then you will have to run again. 

You can’t run from reality forever. It’s a different reality now, but it’s a better reality. That is a rational thought, but being rational currently has no place in your mind, so you’re spiraling, and all because a nice guy asked you out for coffee. 

You find yourself in a cab a few minutes later, wearing a pair of sweatpants, and an oversized shirt, with an untouched bottle of wine in your bag. Your worn-down sneakers are not the appropriate footwear for today’s weather, but you couldn’t be bothered to pick another pair. 

You’re aware that it’s late and maybe you should have texted, but you’re already here, and Claire told you that you could always come to her, even if it happens to be the middle of the night. If the rule still stands after she suddenly decided to stay at your co-worker’s place without a proper explanation, you’re not quite sure though. 

You knock. At first, no response. You knock again. The floorboards creak on the other side of the door. 

“Claire, it’s Liv,” you call out.

You can hear the exact moment the person inside the apartment starts to panic. The floorboards creak again, more frequent this time, and it sounds almost as if Claire is turning the room upside down. You raise your eyebrows. 

Before you can knock again, the lock finally clicks, and she opens the door. She’s more of a mess than you are, and that is put lightly.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Claire greets you. “What are you doing here?”

You blink a few times. “Hello to you too?”

She sighs. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, it’s just been a long night.”

“I can see that,” you answer. “Are you alright?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” She looks you up and down. “What happened to your nose?”

“It’s a long story.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Can I, uh, come in?”

She hesitates before stepping aside to let you in. “Sure.”

You take a quick look around the apartment. Nothing seems out of place. A bowl of cat food stands in the corner by the kitchen. The window in the living room is open, but it seems intentional. 

The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air. You’re not sure if your nose is betraying you as you breathe in, but the smell is familiar. Bandages, disinfectant, and salve. You don’t want to question it, but you can’t help it. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” you ask. 

Claire blows her nose behind you. If you didn’t know better, you would think she was actually sick. She shakes her head upon hearing your question, but there is a faint blush on her cheeks. 

“What makes you think that?” she retorts. 

“Oh, no particular reason. It just smells very… hospital-y. That’s why I asked.”

“I, uh, I had to put a bandage on my leg earlier ‘cause this stupid cat decided to scratch me after peeing everywhere.” She sniffs. “Had to clean the wound, that thing—“ she nods toward the cat sitting in the cat tree, “and then the apartment. Maybe that’s why.” 

You follow her gaze toward the little furball resting on his cat tree. You approach him, but Claire seems less pleased at the prospect. 

“Be careful. He’s pissed.”

“At you,” you correct her. “Also, you’re having an allergic reaction, and—if he really, honest-to-God scratched you—very probably an infection. Why are you even staying here?”

Your voice rises in pitch when you reach the sleeping cat. “Hello, you.” You stroke his fur. He only opens one eye to sniff you, but once he recognizes you, he starts purring. For a moment, you forget the reason why you even came here. 

Claire exhales loudly. She scratches her neck, her skin threatening to break out into hives. “It’s a long story,” she says. 

You glare at her over your shoulder, your hand still stroking up and down the cat’s back as he settles back into a deep sleep. “I’m worried about you."

“That’s sweet of you, but I’m fine.”

“You called out of work and told Shelly you were sick.” You straighten up and turn back to face her. “You’re not sick, Claire.”

She sniffs as if to prove her point.

“Your immune system is overreacting by producing Immunoglobulin E. The antibodies are traveling to the cells responsible for releasing chemicals into your body, causing you to get a stuffy nose and break out into hives. You’re not sick. You’re allergic to cats and sharing an apartment with one. There’s a big difference,” you state. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but you have to admit that, from where I’m standing, your behavior looks a little suspicious.”

“I’m going through some shit, alright?” she says. “And it’s a lot easier to deal with them here than back at my place. That’s why I called in sick.”

You don’t know what to make of her answer. It’s vague. You don’t like vague answers because they often indicate a bigger problem. It is one thing for you to deal with your demons on your own and refuse to talk about it with your best friend; it’s another thing entirely to keep a dangerous truth from the person you’re closest with, one that could potentially lead to worse consequences. If Claire were a naturally secretive person, maybe you would understand, but she isn’t like that. She isn’t you. 

She’s the only person who knows your entire story. She saved your life. You can’t imagine her keeping secrets from you that might end up hurting her. 

You dare to ask, “Are you in danger?”

She shakes her head a little too fast. “I’m fine, Liv. Really.”

“I’m sorry, but I have a hard time believing that.”

“It’s…personal.”

“Personal? Oh, my. Are you sleeping with Luke again?”

Claire stammers. The look on her face suggests that she didn’t expect you to jump to that conclusion. “What? How did you even–”

“Are you?” you repeat your question. 

The last time she slept with Luke Cage, she lied to you about it. She knew you would worry. It’s only natural for you to come to that conclusion now. Except that Luke is in prison, serving his sentence, and it doesn’t make sense. 

“How would I sleep with an incarcerated man?” Claire deadpans. 

“I’m sure you have your ways,” you say. 

“You’re grasping at straws.”

“That’s… true, but it’s coming from a place of love.”

She responds with a sigh. “I don’t wanna fight.”

You join in. You exhale, slowly lowering yourself down on the couch. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “Just tell me you’re okay, please.”

She offers you a gentle smile. “I’m okay,” she says. 

“Thank you.” 

You choose to believe her. For the time being, at least. 

The silence tugs at your brain cells. You obsessed over Claire’s situation because you didn’t want to face your own, but now that your thoughts have regained the freedom to roam and cause irreversible destruction, you start spiraling again. 

You reach into your bag. 

“You brought wine,” Claire points out. 

“Yep,” you say. The bottle weighs heavily in your hand.

“You need a glass?”

You unscrew the top. “No.”

She doesn’t listen. Claire makes her way into the kitchen, reaching for the wine glasses in the cupboard. “Does this have anything to do with why your nose is all blue and swollen?” 

You shake your head at her question. “That was a patient I tried to sedate. No, I, uh… I have a date,” your voice falls flat. 

The wine glasses move back into the cupboard. Claire turns around, her eyebrows moving up to her hairline. “Come again?”

“I have a date.”

Saying it out loud makes it real. Something so surreal cannot be real, but it is. You have a date with Matt Murdock. Your heart begins racing again, and you feel the same desperate urge to scream into the nearest pillow again. 

You take a sip of wine straight from the bottle. You have a date with a nice man who, for the first time in two years, made you see some resemblance of light at the end of this endless tunnel of despair, and the thought alone is terrifying. Because how are you supposed to live after just existing for the longest time? After you dedicated your life to the act of survival?

Claire steps out of the kitchen and in front of you. “Liv, that’s… that’s amazing!” she says. She sounds like a proud mother. Maybe she is. 

You want to shake your head, but you can’t find it in yourself to do anything other than put the bottle back against your lips and take another sip. The alcohol burns down your esophagus into your stomach, spreading a warm feeling through your fragile body, and into your broken soul. 

“Or not,” she corrects herself upon seeing the expression you’re carrying. Your eyes are empty. “I’m confused,” She pauses, “Are we not happy about the fact that you’ve finally got a date after two years of being miserable?”

If she puts it like that, you feel even more miserable. Another sip of wine finds its way down your throat. 

“Okay, maybe you should put the bottle down. I’m sorry if I said something wrong–”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” You put the bottle down. 

Claire sits down next to you, but you get up before she can take your hand and look at you with that caring look she always gives you when she’s worried. You’re not even mad that she played your concerns down when you expressed them and now she is expressing concerns about you; you’re mad at yourself. 

She watches you. “You have a date. That’s a good thing. It means you allowed yourself to finally say yes to someone interested in you, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. 

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You’re pacing over the creaky floorboards. “The last time I went on a date with someone was after my intern year.”

Her gaze softens. “You told me that,” she murmurs. 

“He took me to a restaurant,” you tell her. Your lip quivers as you speak, and your nails dig into your palms until they draw blood. You can barely feel it. His face is right in front of you. “It was a nice restaurant. He paid for me, even offered me his jacket while we were walking home. It was the best date I ever had. And then he kissed me on the doorstep before wishing me a good night.”

“I know. You told me all of that before. But you couldn’t have known that he would turn out to be who he turned out to be. He was your boss. He had no right—”

“That is precisely the problem, Claire!” your voice breaks. “The guy I met, he’s… his name is Matthew. He’s… he is so nice to me. He cares. He treats me like a human being. He… he’s respectful. He called me beautiful. I don’t even know how he knows that. He just… he was so nice to me, and I feel so comfortable around him. I haven’t felt this comfortable around a man in so long. I… I wanted to go out with him. I flirted with him, for fuck’s sake! And when I’m with him, I finally feel wanted again.”

“But you know who else was nice to me when I first met him?” you say. “Who was respectful? Who said I was the only real thing in this world, the only important thing in his life, and that he loved me? You know who made me feel safe and wanted, and who said he cared about me? John said that I was the most beautiful woman on this planet, and I fell for it because he was nice to me. He–”

“But that guy isn’t John,” Claire cuts you off. She raises her voice only slightly—only enough to make you stop and stare at her, tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re miserable. You’re a mess. It is truly embarrassing. But she doesn’t look at you any differently.

“Don’t you think I know that?” you snap back. 

“Liv–”

“Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. I’m 32, and I can’t sleep without a nightlight most nights because I wake up in a cold sweat. I can’t drop a glass without going into shock. I can’t look in the mirror without feeling his hands on me. Without feeling disgusting and worthless, and…” You can feel the shiver traveling up your spine from the thought alone. “I can’t exist without feeling like he should have killed me when he got the chance.” 

“Liv, I know you’re upset, but please, don’t say that,” Claire says, her voice gentle yet assertive.

“Why? It’s true. I wish he would’ve killed me. He took four years of my life that I can never get back. At least if he’d killed me I wouldn’t have to suffer now.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want you saying things like that.”

“You don’t get it,” you say. “Every time I look in the mirror, I want to vomit because I see what he made of me. I can’t even meet a nice guy and allow myself to like him without seeing his face and hearing his stupid voice in my ear, telling me—telling me that no one will ever love me, that he tainted me, and that I will never be free of him because I can’t exist without him.” You break into a sob. 

“And he was right, you know,” you cry. “I ran from him. I made the hardest decision of my life after years of living in his shadow, and I almost died. Because of him, I can’t trust a kind and respectful man who treats me like a person to actually be kind, and I recoil at the thought of someone being gentle with me. Something is seriously broken inside of me, Claire. Very, very broken.”

Claire opens her mouth, but all she can do is bear your tirade. She knows that if she speaks now, you will find another reason to shut her down. This is your pain talking. It’s a powerful avalanche set out to cause destruction on a global scale.

“With Matt, I—” you exhale. “I was myself around him for the first time since I ran away, and he didn’t shy away. I had hope, Claire. I felt like I could finally step into normal life again after settling down here, and I thought I’d have a chance,” you say. “But I just have to close my eyes, and John is right there to ruin everything for me. He is always right there, and I can’t fucking escape him. That’s the problem. That’s why I can’t be happy about this date because I’m fucking terrified. I can’t go through this again. I—I can’t give myself to someone again because there is hardly anything left of me. He took everything, including my ability to love another man ever again, and that thought is fucking with my head.”

You fall silent. The tears continue running down your cheeks, and you bury your face in your hands. Your knees are so weak. You don’t have it in you to hold yourself up any longer. You drop to the carpet, crying into your hands, but you don’t sob. You stay silent because your pain is so great, you don’t know whether to scream or shut down, so you scream internally and shut down from the world around you because you can’t face it. You can’t face Claire. 

The couch creaks. Her feet brush against the carpet. “He abused you,” her voice borders above a whisper. 

She kneels beside you, her hand reaching out—but not touching you. She knows what lines to cross and which to better leave untouched.

“What he did to you wasn’t your fault. He’s a cruel man with cruel intentions.” When you don’t shy away from her proximity, she finally places her hand on your shoulder. “You did the impossible. You survived. You’re here now because you chose to save yourself, and that is so admirable,” she says. “It’s been two years. You’re safe here, you’re not alone anymore, and I know it hurts and it is terrifying, but it’s a good sign that you want to feel more of what this guy made you feel.”

“But I can’t,” you choke out. 

“I know, and I wish I could help you, but I’m not a professional. The truth is, John may have made you feel like there is nothing left of you, but you’re not Olivia Clarke. You’re still you. You’re still…” Claire takes a deep breath before she utters your name. Your real name. The one you were given when you were born. 

The mention of your name makes you shiver. “She’s gone,” you say. “He killed her, but he left her body alive.”

“She’s not gone, she’s just buried very fucking deep. I mean, you said it yourself. You could be yourself around this other guy, and he took you for who you are. That isn’t Olivia, that’s you. And it’s such a good sign that you want to go out with him. That you like him. John hurt you, but he didn’t break you beyond repair. Please, you have to remember that.”

Your tears slowly subside. Her words finally manage to reach your rebelling mind through your ears. Even though everything feels like it has been wrapped in cotton, she manages to get through to you like no one else. It was a subconscious decision to come to her, but perhaps your soul knew something that you didn’t, and you can’t say that opening up didn’t help. 

The mess slowly subsides. Left behind is nothing but hot air, and the words Claire decided to share with you. 

You look up to meet her eyes. She smiles down at you. “I just… I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you whisper.

“That’s why I think you should go on that date,” she tells you.

“Yeah, but who wants to sign up for a mess like me?”

“Seems like he does. And if he’s a good guy, he’ll like you regardless of your mess.”

“You know it’s not that easy.”

She shrugs. “I hate to break it to you, but you can’t pretend it never happened. And you can’t give John the satisfaction of putting your life on hold because of him. That’s just giving him what he wants.”

“I don’t want to give him what he wants,” you’re quick to answer.

Claire hands you a tissue, and you take it gratefully, wiping your runny nose and the salty tears stuck to your dry skin.

Her words stir something within you; even though you don’t want her to be right, she is. Matt may not deserve a mess like you, but if he’s truly a good guy, it can’t hurt to see if it would work between you. And when your past comes out eventually, there is a chance that he won’t abandon you. A slight chance, but a chance nonetheless. That’s a positive outlook you still have to learn how to adapt.

“C’mon.” Claire helps you off the floor and onto the couch. 

You reach for the bottle of wine instantly, but she takes it away from you. She screws the top back on and places it aside, far out of your desperate reach.

“This is not the answer,” she says, “talking is.”

“Can’t we talk and have wine?” you counter.

“Not when you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”

You sniff, wiping the remaining tears on your cheeks with the tissue. 

“We need to take care of you, and alcohol won’t fix your problems.”

Once again, she isn’t wrong. You let out a defeated sigh before dropping your head in her lap. 

A long time ago, you used to be an affectionate person. The fear of being hurt again, of someone raising their hand against you, took that away from you. With Claire though, it’s different. You know she won’t hurt you. She’s not that kind of person, and you can say that with complete certainty. 

Claire Temple is not a violent human being, except for when the people she loves are in danger, but only then. 

She gently brushes the hair out of your face and crumbles it into a messy bun at the back of your head. She wipes at your nose and the last of your tears before they can dry out your skin more than it already is. The past couple of days have taken an emotional and physical toll on you. 

You wince slightly when you notice how sore your nose is. It isn’t broken, but you still got hit. You’re not quite healed yet. A shiver rolls down your spine. 

Shaking her head, Claire gently removes her hand. “You always get yourself in trouble when I’m not around,” she mutters. 

You scoff softly. “Maybe that’s a sign.”

“A sign for you to be more careful, yeah,” she says. 

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” You try to joke, but your voice falls flat with the weight of your exhaustion. 

Claire offers you a chuckle, but it’s more of a pity laugh than anything else.

You sigh. You know that you’re not an example when it comes to the significance of making the right decisions. Not at all. 

“Did I ever thank you for saving my life?” you ask her then, breaking the silence between you in two.

She leans back against the cushions. “Once or twice.”

“Not nearly enough then.”

“I don’t know about that. I mean, if you hadn’t come into Metro General with your hand in a man’s chest cavity, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to help you. You chose to stay.”

“Well, I had my hand on his vena cava, so, letting go would have been unfortunate for the poor guy.”

“That’s true.”

“But if you hadn’t disobeyed protocol, risking your job by putting your trust in me, I wouldn’t have had a reason to stay.”

Claire looks down at you, and you meet her eyes. “That sounded a lot like a love confession,” she nudges you.

You roll your eyes playfully. “You wish.”

“Hey, I’d understand it if you were in love with me. I’m hot.”

She never fails to make you laugh, even when you feel like a truck has rolled you over and broken every bone in your body. That is one of the many qualities you value about her. She’s a good person with a good heart, and she is the kind of person you could trust with your life and she would always make sure that you come out on the other side unharmed, mentally and physically. 

If she hadn’t taken you under her wing, you’re not sure where you would be, but it surely wouldn’t be where you are now.

When your laughter quiets down, you nod. “I can’t argue with that. You are hot. If you weren’t my friend,” you say, “I’d ask you out.”

“And if I were into women, I’d say yes,” she says. 

“I appreciate that.”

“Speaking of dates though–” She stops when you sigh a little too loudly. Claire shoots you a stern glare before she continues, “Promise me you won’t cancel.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. She wants you to mean it. You won’t lie; canceling your plans with Matt did cross your mind, but after Claire worked her magic on you, you can see a little clearer. The fog that kept your mind clouded has started to lift slowly but steadily. You’re no longer spiraling as fast as you have before. 

If you could wash your hands and wash him off of you, it wouldn’t be as much of a problem as it is, but you’ve tried. You have tried washing all memory of him off of your body, out of your mind, but he’s a resilient son of a bitch. John will always try to drive a wedge between you and a normal, happy life, the question is just if you will allow him to do so without even being near you, or if you will finally allow yourself to crawl out of the dark hole he tossed you into. 

You can’t do it alone, and asking for help is terrifying. You have spent the past two years trying to push through. Unfortunately, your healthy coping mechanisms won’t work forever. 

You sigh again, a little quieter. “I won’t cancel,” you tell her, your voice barely above a whisper, yet still so very certain. As certain as you can be, anyway. 

“Thank you.” Claire reaches for the wine bottle next to the couch. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Hm,” you can only murmur. 

“What?”

“What are you doing with the bottle?” you ask. 

“Drinking,” she says. 

“Now I feel betrayed.”

“You should celebrate the fact that you found a Matt, or whatever his name is, and not another Mike.”

You promptly sit up. “Hold up. Pause. Rewind. Mike, like your ex?”

Claire takes a sip of the bottle. A storm rages behind her hazel eyes. You have never seen her that conflicted before. 

“Is he the personal reason why you’re subjecting yourself to a constant allergic reaction by staying here?” you ask. 

The pieces slowly start falling into place. She nods. “Not Mike Mike, but yeah. It’s always the Mike’s.”

Your jaw drops. “I feel like you skipped some chapters there. You met a guy and you didn’t tell me? What–”

“He met me,” she corrects you. “I didn’t tell you because we’re not a thing. Let’s just say there’s a reason his name is Mike. That’s why I’m here.”

Claire takes another sip. You watch her closely, trying to catch her in a lie, but it seems like she’s telling the truth—or a version of the actual truth, but that still makes it true. She’s giving you as much as she can after you cried your eyes out to her. 

You clear your throat, lowering your voice. “But you’re not in danger?” you ask to clarify. 

She shakes her head. “I just have shitty taste in men, even if it's platonic, apparently. It’s like… I’m trying to exist, and then I find a stray cat in a dumpster, but the stray cat has been stabbed and needs medical attention.”

“But you’re allergic to cats and you’re not a vet?” you try to make sense of her analogy. 

When she lets out a sigh and nods, you figure you came as close as possible. It still doesn’t make sense to you, but when does anything? At least when it comes to romance and people’s love lives.

You decide to push a little more, “Did you actually find an injured guy in a dumpster?” 

She shakes her head. The reaction comes a little fast, but you don’t question it. “No, that–that was just an analogy,” Claire says. 

“And Mike is the stray cat in that analogy? But not your Mike, another Mike?”

“Yeah.”

“Dude, you’re frying my brain cells.”

“The single one you still have, or did you buy new ones?”

You try not to laugh, trying to look like you are genuinely offended, but your lips still curl up into a smile. “Shut up,” you mutter. You reach for the bottle, against better judgment, and take a sip.

Claire shakes her head. “What I’m trying to tell you is that, if he’s a good guy, you can’t let him slip away. You can’t let a good thing slip away and possibly end up with a–a Mike kinda guy for the rest of your life.”

“I know.” You look down at your hands, your broken fingernails, and sore knuckles from the constant scrubbing. “I just wish I could understand what he’s doing to me without questioning my entire existence.”

“Some people are just that enigmatic,” and she sounds as if she knows exactly what she’s talking about. 

You wonder about Mike. Not her ex-boyfriend but the one she mentioned. He sounds like he has no sense of self-preservation, and he may not even be a good influence. He reminds you of yourself, and that’s creepy—you don’t even know him. 

And then there is Matt, who is also so eerily similar to you, but in different ways. It’s more of an emotional connection. His heart is in the right place. And unlike the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, he doesn’t have a savior complex.

Why did he even come to your mind? His existence should not be playing into the equation. You brush the picture of his chiseled chest in that tight shirt away, or the way he looked even more dangerous with that smirk below the the mask. 

You hand the wine bottle back to Claire. If you don’t cut yourself off now, you will melt into a puddle of embarrassment. 

Your focus should be on Matt and Matt alone. You have to try. Claire was right. You can’t sacrifice your happiness because you’re scared—you can’t give the man who dedicated his life to breaking you and your confidence down the satisfaction of cowering in fear every time a man shows an interest in you. A good man. A man who could make you happier than he ever had. 

You won’t run this time. You will face the situation head-on. You owe that much to the little girl who dreamed of a life beyond the hell she grew up in, the same girl who was obsessed with finding her soulmate and still believed in true love. Above everyone, you owe it to yourself. No one else matters quite as much as you do. 

And for the sake of seeing what could be instead of wondering what could have been, you have to try.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia

[pinetrees-in-the-water]

Slender mansion headcanons?

Aight anon you didnt mention who to write for so I'm gonna write about all my favs, also this will be infuenced by my personal rewrite so I hope you dont mind!!

(Charcters included: Jeff, Ben, Nina, Toby, EJ, Clockwork, Jane, Masky/Tim, The Operator and a hint of Laughing Jack)

I'll make a part 2 as soon as I can because I have way too many thoughts about the Mansion to fit in one post.

Thank you for the ask!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

◇Slender Mansion Headcanons◇

◇Part 1◇

• Actual fucking chaos

• Thank god the Mansion is so deep in the woods because they would have been reported for SEVERAL noise complaints.

• Ben and Jeff usually play videogames late into the night (usually old PS2 titles, horror or multiplayer games) and Jeff has almost 0 voice control.

• So Tim (or Jane) usually has to barge in and yell at them to keep it down, not that he sleeps much anyways but theyre annoying and Nina is a light sleeper.

• Ben, Clockwork and Tim are all insomniacs so they usually all play board games or go for long drives together, Ben has successfully gotten them into dnd.

• Ben is pretty bad at taking care of himself because he just kinda....forgets due to his ADHD so everyone in the mansion gives him their little reminders or help out.

• Whether its Nina brushing his hair, Jane bringing him dinner when he forgot to eat or Toby essentially throwing him in the shower (never the bathtub his phobia of deep water is too strong and everyone in the mansion is mindful of it)

• Nina, Jeff and Ben all have movie nights every Tuesday. Occasionally the other members of the mansion will join them if the're free but they all have different hunting schedules set by The Operator.

•Nina screams at every jumpscare in a horror movie, her screams are so loud that EJ can hear it from the basement.

• The Operator himself doesn't live in the Mansion although it is his. Hes rarely seen or heard from, only leaving notes around the house. The only one really fond of him is Nina.

• The Operator usually leaves breakfast on the table in the morning for all of them, Clockwork has a small feeling that he doesn't like Jeff because his eggs are never done the way he likes.

• Speaking of Clockwork, the only people she really relaxes around are Toby and EJ, otherwise shes the resident strong, scary, silent type. Ben was low-key scared of her at first but theyre cool now.

• She has major anger issues so his fears are validated, she mostly does a good job of hiding it and generally is very friendly although her bluntness comes of as being mean sometimes.

• EJ and Clockwork usually give each other book and audio drama podcast reccomendations. They're so comfortable around each other that everyone though they were dating at first (They're not).

• EJ was studying to be a surgeon before he got into this mess, his skills carried over and he acts like the in house doctor for the mansion, frequently gets annoying at Tim's smoking.

• EJ honestly spends more time in his lab in the basement than his actual room, he doesn't let many people down there for "sanitation" reasons but everyone else knows its just to keep the teenagers from being more traumatized than they already are.

• Nobody goes into the attic as The Clown (Laughing Jack) lives there, they're all a little afraid of him but he only leaves and enters the room through the attic so hes never seen in the rest of the house.

• Jane had to go into the attic to speak to The Clown once on instruction of The Operator and acted out of character for the rest of the week, keeping all the cupboards and wardrobes in her vicinity open at all times.

• Jane and Tim are often regarded as "The Parents" of the Mansion as they're the oldest, both being in their mid to late 30s, everyone MOSTLY respects them enough to listen.

• Nina treats Clockwork and Jane like big sisters and often finds every excuse to tag along and spend time with them, usually ends up rambling about random fanfiction or a new show she's watching while they listen.

• Clockwork and Toby are like Ben and Jeff just older. Two peas in a pod, they go everywhere together and Clockwork becomes a little more unhinged around him. They've been hiding a stolen stoplight in Toby's room for 3 months and nobody has noticed yet.

• Toby and Jeff either get along a little too well or are fist fighting there is no in between. They're both loose canons. Nobody can tell if they're friends or hate each other.

• Toby and Nina both get along well as they're able to understand and read each other better than the other mansion members due to their shared experience having bpd.

• Toby often accompanies Nina on missions and looks out for her, similar to an older brother, and Nina goes on frequent trips with him to help bring firewood for the Mansion.

• They have their moments but overall everyone gets along pretty well.

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

Hi! So I’m trans and I’ve been going by my preferred name for a long time, and everyone calls me that name (except for family who are transphobic). But basically, I want to legally change my name. I still get called my deadname a lot when it shows up on legal stuff and I hate it. So I need to convince my mom So my question is, how can I bring this up and convince her to let me change it? I already know the legal process.

Lee says:

You know the legal process already which is a great first step! But knowing what the process will entail both legally doesn't mean that you've fully considered the logistics.

Start by making a list of all the places where you will have to update your name (school, doctor's office, bank, social security, health insurance, etc) and then look into what each of them requires to update your name.

There's a lot of paperwork that needs to be done when someone changes their name, and you want to show that you're aware of that, you've read all of the applicable policies/guidelines already and you're prepared to handle it yourself.

Convincing your mom that you're ready for the decision will also be easier if you can show her how committed you are to it. In total, a legal name change can cost $500 or more (in some cases; some people pay less depending on the fees where they live and if they are eligible for fee waivers for court fees) and you'll need to calculate that exact cost for your situation.

You'll probably need to pay court fees (often $250 or more), a few certified copy of the original name change decree (often around $10 per copy), the cost of a new ID if you have a learner's permit, driver's license, or non-driver's state ID (often $13 or more), plus the cost of a new passport and passport card (around $160), an updated birth certificate (around $55), etc. And of course you'll also need to think about the fees for mailing things through the post office.

Depending on your state's laws, you may also need to pay to publish notice of the petition in the newspaper for some amount of time like three consecutive weeks if your local newspaper charges for notices to be published, and you may have to pay to have documents notarized.

Now that you've calculated what the cost of changing your name will be, you need to find a way to get that money. Once you've saved up all the money that you'll need to change your name, move on to the next step.

Finally, collect all the information that you'll need (save all the links to a document or print the website pages) and print out all of the forms that you'll need (court forms, social security forms, passport forms, school policies and forms, etc). Don't think of this as something you're doing to convince your mom-- you're doing this for yourself, because it's what you need to do!

In this situation, I'm assuming that your mom supports calling you by your chosen name and isn't included in the 'family who are transphobic' category. I'm also assuming that in your state you either need only one legal guardian to consent to a name change, or you only have one legal guardian (your mom), or you only need to convince your mom and then she will convince your other parent.

Getting your mom on board will be easier when you can show her that you've fully considered the process of legally changing your name, but you also have to convince her that 1) it's something that you NEED to do, and 2) it's something that you need to do NOW and not when you're 18 or older.

Having that type of conversation isn't easy, but it's a good opportunity to show off your maturity. That means listening to her concerns and actually addressing them, not yelling at her (I know you wouldn't but I have to say it!! Some people do!!), trying to stay calm and taking deep breaths, etc.

If she says that she's worried that you'll change your mind because you're young, tell her that you've been using this name for years and are unlikely to change your mind.

If she doesn't understand why you can't just wait until you're older to change your name legally, show some vulnerability, get emotional, and talk about how being deadnamed affects your levels of gender dysphoria, how often you come across your deadname, how your mental health will be improved when you can change it, etc.

Recognize that you'll likely need to have multiple conversations with her on the topic and it won't be a single one-and-done in a day-- it may take several months before you win her over. Try to keep the big picture in mind. If you have a therapist, they may be able to help you prepare for talking with her.

Finally, remember that you know your mom the best! The things that might have convinced my mom aren't necessarily the same things that will convince your mom. The things that my parents were worried about may not be the same things that your parents were worried about. You are the only one who can figure out what the right path is for you to achieve your goal.

The last thing I'll note is that sometimes you can't win every battle. I was able to convince my parents to let me change my name legally as a minor, but I wasn't able to medically transition until I turned 18.

If you aren't able to convince your mom to let you change your name, remember that it isn't the end of the line. Eventually, you will be 18. And all of this work that you've done will make it much easier for you to change your name at that point-- you'll have all the paperwork at the ready!

It can be difficult to be unable to transition in a way that you need to, but know that you'll survive and you'll get there eventually, and you need to take care of yourself (physically and mentally!) in the meantime to be at your best when it is time for you to achieve that goal.

Followers, any advice for anon on convincing a parent to let you legally change your name as a minor?

[deadbydad]

Rant...I guess???

This has been on my mind for sometime and I feel like this is something that should be talked about.

I have ADHD, Anxiety, and Bipolar Type 1.

I have been diagnosed by a doctor, and was diagnosed for Bipolar when I was in fifth grade, which is pretty young.

And I want to make it clear that this isn't me hating on anyone who does what I am talking about, I just feel like this should be addressed.

Self Diagnosing is okay, to an extant.

For an example:

I knew a girl that thought that she had Bipolar and wanted to see a doctor to see if she had it or not, which is a great plan!

I asked her what type of Bipolar she thinks she has, and she said that she didn't know that there was two types, and I explained them to her.

I also told her that if someone were to ask her if she had any mental health issues/illnesses, that she shouldn't just tell them that she has Bipolar, especially if she wasn't diagnosed with it yet.

I also told her that it's okay if she just tells them that she thinks she has it and wants to see a doctor to make sure, and she was confused which is okay!

She asked me why it's an issue, and I could tell she was just curious and that she wasn't being rude, so I answered honestly.

I told her that if she were to tell people she had Bipolar even though she hasn't been diagnosed, it would be disrespectful to those who suffer with it everyday.

Bipolar is not something you want, it's an issue that I have to live with and have to take meds my whole life for. I wish I didn't have it, but it's from my moms side so I have to deal with it.

I have had multiple people tell me that they want Bipolar because they felt too normal or that they think it would be cool to have it, but it's not cool and is something really serious.

The there are the stigmas and stereotypes of Bipolar and people that have it.

These are some of the things I have heard and/or have been told to myself:

"Bipolar is just something that people use as an excuse to get away with things."

"So people who have Bipolar are just another psychopath?"

"They're not normal and should be sent to a mental hospital."

None of these are true!

I am not a psychopath, I don't use it as an excuse, and I for sure as hell don't need to go to a mental hospital.

I do know people who have done these things, yes, but it's definitely not because of the Bipolar, they did that themselves and shouldn't use a mental illness and disorder as an excuse.

Yes it does effect the way we think and the way we view the world (that happens to me) and it effects many other things, but that still isn't an excuse for bad behavior and the choices we make.

Self diagnosing is okay as long as you're doing it correctly, and just because you have some symptoms doesn't always mean you'll have it.

And I offered the girl that if she has any questions about Bipolar and what it's like for a person that has to live with it, that she could always ask me and I'll happily answer them.

Bipolar is a very serious thing that I feel isn't talked about enough, and that could be said about every mental disorder, but going around telling people that you have a specific disorder without being diagnosed by a doctor is disrespectful to those who suffer with that disorder.

This is just me, I feel like I had to bring awareness to this since it can be a problem with some people who self diagnose without thinking of the consequences or how other people feel about it when they have the mental disorder.

Anyway, I'm gonna go back to writing now, I hope this isn't bad and an issue with me posting this!

I will take criticism!

[benevadeca]

Oughhh midotakakuro hitting me again from the depths of 2013. Thinking about their absolutely incomprehensible aro-spec polycule post-hs. But this ended up just me talking abt their post-hs career paths lol

OK so the art of takao being a nurse and kuroko being a pre-k teacher. Contentious. Like yes ofc midorima is gonna live and die the path of a doctor (and maybe in like far off retirement taking a professorship at his alma mater etc etc)

Like I do think takao could be a nurse bc it takes a very specific kind of weirdo to do what nurses do and I think he has it. And it's a very personable profession you get a lot more 1-to-1 with patients and I think he'd be good at it.

But is it something he'd actually think of himself to do and not just a fujimaki continuing to draw takao and midorima's sidekick lackey? Unsure. I think he's the type to like take a gap year and take a bunch of part time jobs to save up and travel for a bit and meet people before going into like a flexible trade school or something. Guy who tries a lot of things and gains a lot of random skills (and possibly an industry blacklist accidentally) and somehow knows someone from everywhere by the time he's in a more permanent career or whatever.

As for kuroko I think like he likes kids, he'd be good with them, and it would he rewarding but it's still a strange leap like. Image of kagami and kuroko 3rd years retired from bball and bc it's finally not the only thing clouding their minds kagami goes ughhhh does it even matter I'm gonna ball for life. And kuroko looks at him with muted respect but mostly judgementally like it's good to have a backup but ig there's nothing you could do with that meathead of yours. And then they scuffle before kagami's finally like yeah well I don't hear YOU having any grand future plans and kuroko just pulls out a binder of his 5 year non-bball related career path of elementary education. The surprises of Mr. So much internal passion but he looks like this -> -_-

Yeah idk. Like I can see it but it's not the first leap I'd make. I honestly see him also being a basketball head and getting a writing degree so he could do sports journalism or something. It's a job that combines his life passion, his skills and hobbies (reading not bball), & his observational skills. Plus journalism can he done independently but still involves a good deal of communication with other people which for all he's externally a little introvert he's very personable (in a different way than takao) I think he'd like it!!

[mysticalibra1994]

Weird dreams with plot... Is it just me?

Okay, so I'm sure that almost everyone has weird dreams when they go to sleep. But, I'm not sure if anyone ever has any type(s) of dreams like this...

So, this usually happens whenever I consume apples (be its apple juice, applesauce, apple chips, or just apples in general). But, I remember this one dream where Ned Flanders felt bad that his kids don't have a mother figure that would live longer than a year (or so), but he's afraid to get married again just to lose another spouse. Granted, he's a Christian, but he doesn't seem to mind having a live-in nanny to help him with his children. Todd Flanders grew attached to the live-in nanny because after losing her mother at a young age, she had doubts about the faith that she grew up with. Rod Flanders enjoys the meal plans for his Type 1 and to see his brother "real happy" and not "fake happy". Ned... Well, at first he was a little hesitant when knowing her lifestyle; Wiccan, enjoys video games, hesitates on saying grace, respects other religions, and follows more than one deity. Now, to some, that doesn't sound really bothersome. But, Ned slowly grows attached to her after getting to know her as a person instead as a label.

The dream started with Ned, his kids, and their nanny returning home from the movies. Suddenly, they begin hearing someone (or something) chewing on something. As they carefully walked in (Ned being armed with a bible and their nanny telling Rod and Todd to stay behind her), they discovered something horrible... Homer Simpson finished Rod's meal for that day (a salmon burger with eggplant "fries" and cashews). Ned angrily shouts at Homer for eating Rod's food and Homer went "Yeah, well... it was getting cold." (despite the fact that you can reheat meal plans). Suddenly, Ned picked up a folding table, and as he makes his way to Homer, their nanny does her best to make sure that the kids wouldn't see and/or hear anything violent when Ned smacks Homer in the back with the same table.

"Now, Homer. You can insult me, my lifestyle, and my support for the South-diddly-Paws. But, you have gone too diddly-darn far."

"Oh... Uh... S-sorry, Ned. I'll uh... I'll go."

The nanny left the room with Rod and Tood to the living room to wait until Ned's anger dies down; which took about a few (or so) hours. To Ned's surprise, their nanny volunteered to say grace for the first time over "pancakes for dinner". After watching animated Bible Stories, Rod and Todd went to bed. As they prepared their bedtime routine, they begin to talk about... before.

"Hey, I just want to apologize for my behavior. It's just, every time I see my kids, I see half of my beloved Maude."

"It's alright. In fact, it's quite understandable. The good news is that I made sure that they didn't witness any of it."

"Thanks. You've done so much for my family, I just wish that there was a way to show you my appreciation without the old 'Pop, goes the question'."

"Hey, I'm in no rush. Besides, my family's love life is either miserable or happy. The latter is sadly rare."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, that's when I woke up. But, recently I had a dream where the nanny used to work for the Simpsons so that way Marge could relax for the first time. Now, since the nanny looked like a "Springfield version" of me, I assume that she's my OC.

In my dream, my OC started growing attached to Maggie in a maternal way. When Maggie responded in a positive way, my Oc began tearing up. Lisa noticed this when she was entering the living room to practice her smooth jazz, she asked her what was wrong. Due to Lisa and Maggie's age, my OC explained to them that her doctor told her that the reason why she didn't have any "monthly visitors" means that she can't be a "biological mother". Of course, Lisa and Maggie understood. Eventually, Bart (sort of) understands, and Homer... does, too.

But, Marge? Well, she did say that she understand. But, she grew jealous, assumed that my OC was going to be Maggie's new mommy (thanks to Helen Lovejoy and her "gossiping personality"), and snapped at her.

"Now, you listen here, missy! I don't care what your doctor says, I am Maggie's mommy! You will never be her mommy!"

Now, that's what she said. But, what my OC heard was:

"Now, you listen here, missy! I don't care what your doctor says. I am Maggie's mommy! You will never be a mommy!"

So, my OC claims to "go out for a walk" and never came back (she even left with her stuff). Until she can find someone that can trust her with their kids, she has decided to live (temporarily) at 82 Evergreen Terrace where the late Edna Krabappel used to live (of course, she treats it with respect).

Thanks to Marge's misunderstanding, my OC has tried to do her best to please her boss(es) at her job(s). But, Moe claimed that his bar needs to look and feel depressing for "barflies". Superintendant Chalmers said that it's against the school rules for a teacher to be friends (or friendly) with students. Chief Wiggum fired my OC for not shooting and/or tasing people for no reason. Plus, he arrested her for "standing up to a cop".

By chance (almost), Ned bails her out; he was actually there to donate Bibles that he censored by hand to innocent inmates. During their first lunch date, they learned something about each other. As the date continues, Ned explains that he's nervous about "Pop, Goes the Question" and my OC says that she's in no hurry. He was a little hesitant when she politely refused to say grace, but he stayed because he knew that she's a good person (although he did faint when she said she's Wiccan and views Lucifer as an "uncle figure", but he still stayed when he came to). As Ned invites her to his house, the kids were nervous about "having a new mommy figure" in their lives, but eventually, they grew attached to her. Unlike his previous dates, he doesn't force her to change (he's not a god or a man-god), no matter how many hushed whispers they hear in church (that she goes when she feels like it).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, that's all of the "The Simpsons" dreams that I dreamt so far.

I'm not sure if the "Recent Season's Ned Flanders" would react to having a nanny who's a Wiccan to watch over him and his kids, but according to his wiki page, Ned is very honest, kind, and sincere.

I hope that you all enjoy reading this if/when you guys, gals, and nonbinary pals have the time.

[baconlettucetomatoeggs]

what to do in 2023?

...honestly i don’t do wishlists that often (and i tend not to do it due to the fact that i never done it 9/10 times) but because of a tweet (and out of spite of myself for being goal-less) i should do this wishlist of mine.

if i cant do this in 2023, i would be fine, but i hope people would get my ambition

1. i really need to earn money with *at least* $5 per month. yeah. i don’t mind where i’m gonna get it but if there’s a way, i should.

sometimes i wonder when all these pieces are all in my favor and yet i quit midgame. sigh

2. i wish i would get be accepted. no i'm not gonna speak any references to this (and would neither wanna talk about it even to my closest confidants) but it has many meanings behind it, but in the end i will try. what stops me anyway?

mom thought i just have thick skin: it's just i really don't care about myself or anyone that might as well wing everything. no one bothered to realise that the time-out corner is more interesting since all of my friends are there.

3. i should probably change my name. not in a legal sense (i like my legal name and wish to keep it) but my current one is annoying as hell: i cant watch a history video without that name popping out. i can't live in silence

i mean, it's your fault. you literally just typed randomly with your fingers on the keyboard, it just so happens it's the first one that came. also dont lie to me: you specifically chose that name with the aspirations of somewhat being a computer expert. and now you're leaving it. wanna retire that? sure. fucking quitter

4. i should probably ask my itoko how they do their thing. which of course means getting back to my doctors and asks for pills.

look, you're gonna risk yourself again to be exposed? are you that useless? 5. i'll learn another language. i have a *really certain* lineup that i dont want to reveal to my peeps. i really dont want them to think of anything.

...liar. you romantic fuck. you're fantasizing being with someone that's why you learned more. you want to be with your mom so you learned spanish. you want to be closer to your (unknown at the time) crush so you learned esperanto. now you wanna learn cebuano because you want to be close to one of your peep.

on a second thought... i give up. i'm too bitter and spiteful for living peacefully with myself anyway :p

[scandinavianfairytale]

Build this home - Him

Part 1

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader

Warnings: Near death experience, army things, dying, injuries, fighting, slight existential crisis 😅

Link to the series Masterpost 😊

There have been countless of times when Colonel Rick Flag almost lost his life. There was that time in Afghanistan when the grenade exploded right next to him and in Libya, where he was taken hostage and was about to get executed when his team found him and rescued him. And when he was almost shot by friendly fire in Bosnia.

He was never scared or worried. It was like he knew in his heart of hearts that he wasn't going to die.

But today was different. He pulled the metal pipe out of his abdomen and he saw the blood starting to soak his shirt and the man in front of him stood up so quickly, as if the whole building didn't just colapse on both of them. Rick knew he had to move and he stood up just in time to evade the punch aimed at his face. Both soldiers were without proper weapons and he knew that it'll come down to endurance - how many punches will they be able to take. He was thrown around like he weighted nothing, his opponent was apparently much stronger and Rick was slowly losing his resolve with each punch he took. He was so tired.

Of the missions.

Of all the orders.

Not knowing the big picture.

Not having a stable life.

As his head hit the stone wall and his vision blurred and his strength to stand up again dissipated, he thought back on his life. What was his legacy? How many bridges did he burn? And for what? For his career? The same one that was now slowly leading him towards the edge of the cliff.

I wish I did things differently. Was the last thought that went through his head as he lost consciousness.

He woke up in a hospital. The room was too bright and everything hurt.

"Colonel Flag, you're finally awake." The nurse noticed his open eyes. She immediately called the doctor and the woman performed a quick exam, before she called his superior and told him how he's been healing.

"It's a miracle you're alive, Colonel." The doctor told him. "You were pronounced dead on the spot, but you woke up as the medic was zipping up the bag. You scared that boy half to death." She observed him as she spoke. Rick let out a short snort and immediately regretted it as the stabbing pain reminded him that everything was still tender if not broken.

"What kept you alive?" She asked.

"I guess I'm just not done living." He guessed. He wasn't sure himself. Though he assumed it could've been regret that kept him alive. Or a want for more.

"You're still healing. It'll take some time before you'll be able to go back to work. And even then I'll make sure you're put on desk duty until you are completely healed." The doctor smiled and patted his shoulder before walking out.

His superior arrived shortly after. He was happier than Rick himself by the fact that he was alive. There were missions and soldiers waiting for Colonel Flag to be healed.

As Rick listened to his superior, his mind started to drift. He died and came back to life to what? Continue down this path?

"Colonel, do you agree?" The stern voice cut through Rick's train of thoughts.

"Sir." Rick briefly nodded, before the man saluted and wished him a speedy recovery. Rick reached for his phone and started opening apps on his phone.

It was 2022 but he spent more time on the battlefield than in the modern world, so he turned to what was the last thing he actually still knew - chatrooms. He searched for a topic he wanted to discuss but he didn't find any so he typed it himself.

Is this all there is?

Thank you for reading! 😊💙

The GIF doesn't belong to me, belongs to the talented creator 🙏😊

I started a new series 🙌😅 so let's see how it'll turn out 🙈🤞

[themissingmarvel]

A Healing Embrace [Part 3]

(Yay I'm writing again. Like where it's going, so here we go, for those who do stay with me all these years later!)

Pairing: Bucky x mutant!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of pain

Catch up!: Part 1 // Part 2 //

It had been a hell of a day. Well, more than that. Doctor Strange had made a visit, checking both of you over and finding no anomalies in Bucky, and while he said your body and mind had come up with nothing there was a part of you that didn’t believe him. You had remembered that look when your mother had died, your father promising he didn’t blame you, but knowing that there was something else. Whatever it was.

Your phone was by your bed, as it always was. A soft ‘ding’ alerted you to the text notification. It was dark now, later in the evening. You should have been tired but you weren’t. So much sleep. So much ‘rest’, so to speak. You were tired of it. Tired of being tired.

Reaching for the device, you saw a message from your father,

-Hope this doesn’t wake you, sunshine. Just wanted to say I love you.

You smiled, typing back,

-No rest for the wicked. You wouldn’t believe where I am.

-Oh? You’re not at the school?

The smile was still on your face, not just because of Bucky. Because of all of this.

-I’m at the Avengers Tower. Whole thing with Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier guy? Cap’s friend. The Super Soldier dude.

There was silence. Digital silence, at least. No [...] to indicate your father was typing, but instead something eerie. He wasn’t the type to message you late, nor was he the type to vanish, but you had figured maybe he was tired. Maybe he did need to sleep. And so you glanced at the phone a few more times, still nothing.

Clicking it to sleep, you frowned, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. It felt like your world, in an instant, had changed. Bucky Barnes by all accounts should have been dead, and you knew it. Even as you lay, you could feel that sickness as it left your body into the world itself, you had felt its destructive power. Its power was not just in the body, but the mind. When a person thought themselves broken all it took was a shove to make it true. For a Super Soldier, someone with the serum, that level of ailment would have to be… well, truly built. Not for any human body, it was meant to kill a Super Soldier. You knew that.

Despite how tired you convinced yourself you weren’t, however, sleep was beginning to take hold and you supposed it was for the best. Tomorrow you could wake up and do more work with Bucky. You had faith that after all you’d done yesterday, the rest would be gone tomorrow. And now that he could heal… now you could rest, too.

~

You felt it as you woke.

Increased heart rates, tensed bodies, adrenaline, fury. It woke you from your slumber, which had been fairly deep, enough to not even alert you to it when it had first begun. Pulling yourself out of the bed, you tossed a grey sweatshirt on, a pair of matching grey baggy sweats on your lower half, both adorning the “STARK Industries” logo. The shouting wasn’t clear until you had walked out of the room, adjusting yourself to the daylight as you hurried down the hall. One couldn’t really call it running, but rather your movements were quick.

Pushing open another door, you walked into the main living area, watching, much to your confusion, as your own father stood, dressed in his usual tattered jeans and green plaid button-down shirt, black undershirt visible. He looked aged, and he looked worried, but mostly you got anger from him. Fear. That was because he was screaming at Tony Stark, however.

“Why in God’s name did you bring her here? Were you really so desperate you’d risk exposing her to that? Are you fucking dense? Does Charles even know you did this?” He raised his hand, index finger pressing against Stark’s chest, the man raising his hands as he stepped back.

“Listen, Mr. Y/L/N, we wouldn’t have brought her here if we didn’t think she could make it. After what happened with you before-”

“Dad?” You spoke up, interrupting the man you were worried might get pummeled by your father, watching as he came to where you were, not hesitating as he wrapped you in a hug. There was nothing except reassurance from him, of goodness. That radiating, glowing golden aura that belonged to him alone.

He breathed out, taking you in his arms, “Sunshine, you’re all right. Are you all right?” He stepped back, hands on your arms as he examined you, though you weren’t quite sure what for. Whatever you had said last night had clearly sent him here.

You gently stepped away, “I’m fine, dad. What’re you doing here? How’d you get here?” Of course, the answer could be anything. He’d been in North Carolina, working with some company you didn’t quite know, but never cared to learn about.

“After what you texted me last night, I had to get here. I can’t believe Stark took you from Xavier’s. You were safe there,” he muttered looking at you, forlorn. He was sad, but you didn’t need powers to see that. It was hard not to focus, though, the bright gold that radiated off of him, the power. The strength. The-

Startled, you took a few sudden steps back, “How? How?!” Your voice elevated, Steve having hurried into the room, Bucky now as well, looking better still, though not 100%. Your father knew what you were asking, and it was a question he had dreaded getting for a long time. You knew the man well enough that his aura was as clear to you as his face, but you had never really focused, not since that day on the soccer field where he was lit up, bright as the sun, smiling over at you. Sometimes the most obvious things went overlooked.

He reached out, though you snatched your hand back, “No, don’t touch me! Don’t you dare! You tell me right now why you’re here or I swear to god I will walk out that door and disappear. Do you understand me?” In truth, you were talking to everyone. It felt like you had stumbled in on a secret meeting of sorts and it was not going well.

“Sunsh-, Y/N, I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t tell you about it. If I told you, really told you about me, there’s so much danger I could have put you in. Though I suppose since Stark brought you here that doesn’t really matter now,” he tossed a scowl back at the man, one laced with rage.

Steve stepped forward, “He didn’t ask her alone, I did as well. We needed her. Still do. She’s saved Bucky’s life,” his plea was clear.

“Yeah? Well you’ve put hers in jeopardy, do you honestly not get that? You’ve put everyone’s life in jeopardy.” He looked angry. In truth, he was scared. He blamed Stark for this, as he had before, but he was blaming himself for not being more careful.

But you were angry too, and feeling more than betrayed, “Dad, why didn’t you tell me you had the serum? That you’re like Bucky and Steve?”

It was true. In a strange way, you had always known his power, but you had simply thought it was normal. Typical. Those we love always radiate strongest. But you never had a reason to think your father might be different, because you weren’t. Not in the way he was. But that gold, that bright, shining, shimmering and powerful gold, had been him.

Looking over at you, he was clearly speaking to everyone though his focus was on you, “Sunshine, back when I got sick, you remember, really sick? I wasn’t supposed to get through that. I’m not like Bucky or Steve directly. I got a variant, one that protects from disease and ailment, meant to go into the most toxic of territories. But I don’t think I was meant to survive that. But he was dosing a lot of us with the hope he’d find you. All with the serum. Didn’t know it at the time, but it was Victor Von Doom. He had dosed a lot of us, both with and without the serum, with a virus. It was only meant to inhabit the host, not spread. Part of why I made you promise not to tell anyone you were sick,” he frowned. It would have given you away.

“It’s clear, unfortunately, that Doom found you. Or at least knew we had some kind of contact. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that one of our own got hit with the same ailment, almost identical, to your father’s,” Tony spoke calmly, taking a deep breath.

Turning away, you faced the large, open windows of the living space that looked out over the city. The sun was shining in, pouring through the glass and giving light to the world around you and the others. It was life in itself, wholly and truly. It was hard not to feel hurt by all of this. That your father had the serum, or that the dosing had been intentional. You had recalled staying in, sick as hell, for three days. It was a family emergency, your father had told everyone. He had told you to tell everyone the same. At age eleven you trusted him and you believed it. Besides, you’d been sick before and seeing him healthy had made it all worth it. He wasn’t angry. He was scared.

And now he was more so. Not because you had risked your life, though partly that, but because you had done it for a man who had chosen to poison Barnes with the hopes that you would rise again. He’d lost you long ago, seconds from taking you away. You hadn’t known part of the reason your father had called for Xavier was because of Doom. He had begged for your safety and when Charles had seen you, felt you, he had known. Doom needed you, and he would continue to. He had promised you a safe harbor and it had remained that way.

Until now.

“I still need to heal Bucky, though. I made a promise and I’m not leaving,” your fists were clenched as you turned back, to a room of individuals not knowing what to expect, all with different hopes. Could you have seen your own power, you would have seen pure light, bright and radiating. It was more than an aura, but a force.

Everyone was silent as they watched you, not quite knowing what to expect. Bucky was feeling tremendous guilt, now. Had anyone warned him of the danger you’d be placed in he would have allowed himself to die. Now he had to get better. He had to heal. You didn’t have that same training the rest of the X-Men did, you couldn’t fight your way out of a problem. He needed to be able to protect you. He had to.

A deep sigh left your father’s lips, “How much longer do you think it’ll take to heal him?” His eyes raised to yours and he was speaking seriously. No one had ever asked that before. Usually it was a ‘time will tell’ sort of response, and he knew it was one you were going to toss out, “Focus. How long will it take?”

Bucky’s eyes were glued as you made your way across the room to where he was. His skin was brighter, color clearer now. He had shaven, the scruff gone as you looked at him. There it was. The silver.

Drawing in a breath, you kept your eyes open, placing a hand on his chest. His heart was beating faster now, his skin warm, though not hot. Even through the cotton of his blue shirt you could feel him. Looking into his eyes, you felt something, a jump of sorts, the hand on his chest connecting you to him, his own eyes glazing over suddenly as you focused. In an instant you could feel his body, see it, though it were a machine. Gears turning, running, processing. You could see the darkness, faded now as it struggled through him. And you could feel yourself as you dove deeper.

The darkness was before you, a shadow and a form of nothingness. It smelled rotten, but it also was weak. It was almost gone. Whatever was happening, it was happening fast. You had a chance. A moment. An opportunity. Time to stop this decay.

Wincing, keeping your eyes locked onto the man who seemed gone, the others in the room only able to watch as the white glow hooked into Bucky’s form. Your own intensity was growing as you reached out, mentally, emotionally, physically, and grabbed the shadow. It seemed to cower, screeching as you took hold, your eyes flashing white as you squeezed, the life draining from it and into you, a black tar flowing into your veins and absorbing what was left. In turn, Bucky’s own essence was beginning to change, the silver trickling into your energy, mixing with the white glow. And as you drew in the final pieces of the shadow, your eyes came back into focus, snapping your hand back, seeing the glow this time, stepping away with a gasp.

You stumbled, watching as Bucky seemed to do the same and leaned against the door frame. Footsteps of your father came towards you but you held your hand up, “No! I got the last of it. It’s in me. It will die inside me,” you seemed confident, breathing heavily but feeling strong. The pain of the illness, the ache and soreness, the heat, was inside your form. You had taken it whole. The rest of it.

Looking up at Bucky the fatigue he felt suddenly made sense. No one needed to say it, but you had taken some of Bucky into you by taking the illness. You were certainly no super soldier, but that piece, that strength, was part of you.

It feels good, doesn’t it?

The voice rang in your head, a sort of empty and hollow voice, vacant and void. You shuddered internally, feeling it.

Always giving back. Always taking the pain. What if you took more?

“Stop!” Your voice was raised, a shout leaving your lips as you closed your eyes, trying to make it stop. It wasn’t Charles this time, though. It was something worse. Someone worse.

Just a bit more. The taste of everyone around you. It would be so easy to take it from them. They’d never know.

“I said enough!” Your voice was so much louder, eyes opening as you turned and pulled your arm back, slamming it forward and plunging your fist deep into the wall. The concrete wall. The one that cracked as you did so.

The silence in the room after was deafening, your breathing ragged as you attempted to understand what was going on. It made sense. You were absorbing parts of Bucky when you took the illness. It’s impossible to perform surgery without the patient bleeding, though in this scenario you were taking in the pieces of the person. Just as you had done with your father, just as you had done with Janelle. Just as you had done with all those small pokes and prods. But this had been so significant, drawing in the energy of a Super Soldier repeatedly, over days. Living in the same vicinity. You had him inside of you.

Taking back your hand, shaking now, you looked over at the only man in the room who would have an answer, and you felt yourself beginning to cry as all of it hit you, “I felt him, Dad. I would know that kind of power anywhere. It’s Victor, and he knows where I am. He knows what I can do. And he’s coming.”

[morefandomscenarios]

A/N: I've never done a songfic before (and I'm probably horrible at this) but I was in the One Piece headspace, this song came up on my playlist, and the idea struck me so hard I can't help but want to try putting it into words... So here you go, I guess.

PS. Take care. My askbox is always open 💛

Song: Dreamy Night by LilyPichu [ ▶️ YouTube | 🎧 Spotify ]

⛔️ TWs | 🏷 Tags: fluff, angst, trauma, depression, suicidal thoughts

1 AM, eyes closed, I'm slowly falling To the music and the atmosphere

The submarine's engine hums pleasantly in Law's ears, along with the crinkles of paper and the sound of his pen scratching against paper. If he focuses hard enough, he thinks he can hear some muffled snores from the other rooms, probably from Shachi - his friend's habit stubbornly persisting despite the doctor's efforts to try and help.

Now and then, I feel lights fading softly All over me and I remember last year

Seeing a few dark spots in his vision, he tries to blink them away. Unfortunately they persist, obstructing his vision, and he sighs in response. His joints crack as he stretches his arms upwards, elongating his poor spine and hissing when a sudden cramp seizes his right leg. He's used to pain, being a survivor of the Amber Lead disease, so he forces his legs straight and waits it out, his memory taking him back to his early young days.

When I was alone in my bed With all these thoughts in my head And living silently inside

On his worst nights, every single cell of his body would be screaming in pain, and he would curl into himself, trembling, cold, angry, wishing that death would just come to him quicker. Cursing his fate, repeatedly asking why did he have to survive, why was he so ready to die but too cowardly to end it himself. All the darkness and desperation, bottled up inside such a small body, inside a mind too young, inside a heart so horribly broken.

It's so late in the night, my mind is drifting away Then I dream about times I wished for a new happier day

Law inhales shakily as the throbbing on his leg eases away, but remembering his child self brings him a new type of ache. The worst pain that even the best doctors can't help with. His nose scrunches. He knows it's not real, but he swears he can somehow smell it in the air - the faint smell of cigarette smoke and faux feathers. Hears the quiet, familiar voice, so clear against the muted background noises, like a light in void darkness, the softest heartbeat of a supposedly dead heart. Feels the gentle stroke on his back, the warm arm cradling his smaller form, warm, fatherly, safe, shielding him from the cold winter nights-

If a hand could reach out right now and save my life somehow I'll face the sun again as soon as this dreary night ends

-His eyes snapped open in surprise when a series of knocks resounded in the room.

Don't wanna go down like this My head's in a place that I don't miss

Inked hands rubbed onto his strained eyes, wiping away the tears that had gathered at the corner of his eyes. He's pretty sure his eyes would be bloodshot, but seeing the time on the clock, he supposes he can chalk it up to pulling his usual all-nighters. Wouldn't be his first time - nor his last.

So ugly, so grumpy Sleepin' in the meantime, just stay comfy

Though, with that said, Law doesn't exactly feel like talking to anyone right now. His head feels heavy, his chest still hurts, and the familiar darkness is still lingering within his exhausted mind. With a tired scowl, he eyed his bed, weighing the options. Should he answer, or pretend to be sleeping?

Once everything's said and done I know I'll be okay, I will overcome

More knocks, though this time they're noticeably softer, as if whoever is standing behind the door is starting to hesitate. He sighs deeply before activating his power, moving the door lock so it opens before calling out, "Come in."

I'm hoping, I'm coping, I'm here I remember last year

The door swings open slowly and Law forces a smile when you step inside. Why? He has no idea.

.... No, actually, he does.

He hates showing weakness. Always been, always will. He tenses when you study him softly, not replying to his smile.

"Hey...."

When I was alone in my bed Unhappy thoughts in my head And living silently inside (Inside)

"Are you okay?"

Just keeping all to myself Wished I could be somewhere else Back when I could only hide

".... Why are you asking?"

"Because you don't look okay," you step towards him cautiously, slightly opening your arms, your movements careful and calculated, "Is it okay for me to be here? Can I give you a hug?"

It's never should I leave?, because he'll automatically say yes, not used to allowing people in whenever he's vulnerable. It's never do you need a hug?, because he'll automatically say no, too bashful to admit that he does. You know him so well, and he can't help but wonder, how can you read him like an open book when others are terrified just from hearing his name.

It's so late in the night, my mind is drifting away Then I dream about times I wished for a new happier day

He stands up from his uncomfortable work chair and slumps onto his bed. You follow him wordlessly, gathering him into your arms as you squeeze into a bed that's meant for one person. Law lets you pull a pillow under his head, tuck the blanket over both of your bodies, and tangle your legs with his, grunting at the coldness of your feet but he refuses to pull away.

It's comfortable. Too comfortable, almost. He forces his eyes to stay open, even as you rub soothing circles onto his back and press a soft kiss on top of his head.

If a hand could reach out right now and save my life somehow I'll face the sun again as soon as this dreary night ends

You soon realize the tenseness of his body and hums disapprovingly, looking down into his tired eyes with a saddened frown. He doesn't need to explain, and only in these times he's genuinely glad that you know about his nightmares - how it affects his decision of getting a well-deserved rest and how it affects him mentally even though he tries his best to not show it.

"I promise I'll wake you up before it gets too bad."

Law doesn't answer, just stares into your eyes and the lines of your expression with the same intensity as reading an interesting publication of human anatomy. He doesn't know what he's looking for, but he finds reassurance, sympathy, sadness...

... love.

(It's so late in the night, my mind is) Drifting away

He can feel white fuzz filling his seemingly empty head the longer he's looking at you, the colors and lines slowly blurring, and it seems like you can somehow sense it, because now you're giggling softly and smiling at him.

Then I dream about times I wished for a new happier day

"Sleep. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

If a hand could reach out right now and save my life somehow

Your fingers caress his cheek, and his eyelids automatically close in response.

I'll face the sun again as soon as this dreary night ends

"Good night, Law."

I'll face the sun again as soon as this dreamy night ends

His consciousness slips.

It's warm.

[parisa-kh]

Here For You (AU Series)

Chapter 4. Nightmares

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Haley Rochester) x M!OC (Alexander Solace)

Word Count: 1.6 k

Rating: M

Category: angst

Warnings: Mentions of death and sexual abuse

Series Premise: Near the end of her intern year, Haley's marriage is about to fall apart. How is it going to affect her relationship with Dr. Ramsey?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter premise: For Ethan and Haley, everything is going to change in one night.

A/N: Writing this chapter was really challenging and I'm so glad It's finally done! I hope you like it.

Ethan was standing in the middle of the hospital atrium, surrounded by colorful decorations and cheerful doctors, some of them chatting, some dancing to the slow song the band was playing. It seemed like a gala, but Ethan had no idea how he’d ended up there. His mind was foggy, His eyes were searching the crowd, hoping to find Haley, but she was nowhere to be found.

Somewhere in the middle of the strangers crowd, he found a familiar face. Harper was standing near the bar. Ethan walked up to her. Although he wanted to know what was going on around him, he had a much more important question he needed to ask,

“Harper, have you seen Dr. Rochester?”

Harper looked at him, perplexed, “What are you talking about?”

“Dr. Haley Rochester? First-year intern? You know her!” He replied impatiently.

Harper looked at him with a sympathetic expression, like she was talking to a dying patient,

“Ethan, don't you remember? Dr. Rochester was transferred to New York two years ago, in her first year.”

Ethan couldn't comprehend her answer. He saw Haley leave the hospital just yesterday! Or was it a long time ago? Ethan couldn't collect his thoughts, nothing made sense.

“What? No! She didn’t move back! I saw her here yesterday!”

His surroundings were suffocating him, the light and the colors, people he didn't know and the fact everything was covered in a thick fog that wasn't letting him think straight. He only knew he needed to find Haley and make sure she was ok and still here, near him.

There was evident concern in Harper’s voice,

“Ethan, Haley Rochester moved back to New York because of some family problems, right after Naveen’s… funeral.” She got out the last word with great effort.

Now Ethan was yelling, his voice was echoing in his own head,

“Naveen is not dead! What the hell are you talking about?!”

His head was about to explode. “He can't be… I was treating him! We were! Haley and I…”

Ethan trailed off, suddenly remembering everything, Haley's departure, Naveen's memorial service, and how devastated he was that day. But he couldn't at all remember how two years had passed. It was like it never happened, and suddenly everything hurt like the very first day. He could feel the pain in his chest. The same pain he went through that day. His vision got blurry. Ethan wanted to scream but he couldn't make a sound.

Ethan woke up to the sound of his own wailing, panting heavily. His body was covered with cold sweat. Between all the nightmares he had recently, this one was by far the worst. As if someone had masterfully combined his biggest fears in a very well-written play. He went out to the living room, turning the lights on. Staying up was better than seeing a high-quality nightmare. It was so real that Ethan wished he could call Haley and check on her right in the middle of the night, even though they had shared a cab only 3 hours ago and Ethan had watched her go inside her apartment. But was her apartment safe? What if her husband was back from his trip? What if he was hurting her again? Ethan didn't believe a man who hit his wife was capable of change, he didn't trust Alex at all. He was feeling uneasy, he had to check up on her. Grabbing his phone, Ethan opened their chat. Much to his surprise, Haley was online. Before he was able to type his message, Haley sent her own,

“Are you awake?”

“Yes. Are you Ok?” He responded immediately.

Haley was typing again, then came nothing. Ethan was getting worried, “Haley?”

After a few seconds of typing, that to Ethan felt like hours, she finally replied,

“I'm outside your apartment.”

His intuition was right. Something had happened that drove Haley out of her apartment in the middle of a rainy night.

Ethan immediately buzzed her in. A minute later, there was a knock on the door.

“Hi…” Haley was soaking wet from the rain.

“Haley? What… what are you doing here? Are you Ok?”

His eyes immediately started to search for traces of injuries, however, there weren't any. But her bloodshot eyes were telling him that something terrible had happened.

“Can I come in?” She swallowed a sob, looking at him helplessly.

“Of course! Come on in. God you're soaked, did you walk here?”

“I ran.” She chuckled bitterly, her face still wet from the rain and her tears.

He wrapped a towel around her and sat her on the sofa. His stomach turned at the sight of her, his mind thinking of the worst possible scenarios.

“Haley, please tell me what happened? Did he hurt you again?”

Ethan clenched his fist. He knew that the sad excuse of a man was going to show his true colors, he knew Alex didn't deserve her forgiveness and would hurt her again.

“I'm not hurt… not… not in the way you think.” Haley answered, her voice hoarse.

Ethan was sitting beside her, worried and confused. He couldn't fight the urge to hug her. He carefully wrapped her in his arms, trying to calm her down and make her feel safe. She visibly tensed for a second but then relaxed in his embrace. After a few seconds, Ethan spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about it? I wanna help you but I don't know how if you don't tell me what's going on.”

In the 36 years of his life, Ethan has never been in such a situation. He didn't have any siblings, his casual relationships were always smooth and nothing tragic had ever happened in his romantic relationships that required his attention. Never did a girl come to him looking broken and defeated, needing his help but not saying anything. He had to know, he had to do something for his favorite intern, his rookie. He couldn't bear to see her like that.

“I can't talk about it.” Haley said as she nestled in his arm, closing her eyes. She didn't really want to tell Ethan, but she needed to get it out. Her pain was so heavy she wasn't able to bear it all by herself.

“I just… need to take a plan B tomorrow morning.” She whispered.

Ethan froze, unable to believe his ears. His blood was boiling and at the same time his heart was shattered into pieces. He was torn between his fury, making him want to teach that bastard a lesson, and his need to be there for Haley and calm her down. He hugged her more tightly and whispered in her ear, “I'm so sorry.”

“I was drunk, I couldn't stop him.” Haley started crying again, letting out the pain and horror she went through. She clung to him as he caressed her hair, resting his head on top of hers.

“It's Ok rookie, you're gonna be fine. … I've got you.”

He placed a soft kiss on her head, they sat there for what felt like eternity. They have never gotten so close, and that level of intimacy was something new and unknown, but it didn't feel wrong or inappropriate. It was what they both needed. She found her peace in his arms and he did what they both needed at that moment. He was going to protect her. Maybe even literally in his arms.

Ethan looked down at Haley, she was falling asleep. “Let me take you to the guest bedroom. You need to get some sleep.”

“Are you going to sleep too?” She looked up at him.

“I don't think I can… I’ll just continue reading.”

“I'm sorry for bothering you in the middle of the night.”

He gave her a soft smile, “you're welcome here at any time Haley. And you can stay here as long as you want.”

“Thank you… That means a lot, more than you know.”

They both fell silent again, neither of them moved.

“Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“Since you're gonna stay up, can I sleep on the couch? I don't want to be alone.”

“Of course. Let me get you a pillow and blanket.”

A few minutes later Haley was settled comfortably under a blanket. “Good night Ethan.”

“Good night Rookie.” He smiled and grabbed the magazine he was reading before, in a futile attempt to focus on something other than an asshole assaulting a defenseless girl, who happened to have a special place in his heart.

...

Haley was standing by the window of the living room, enjoying the view of Boston. She felt someone’s arm wrapped around her, gently hugging her from behind. He slowly started kissing her neck, Haley tilted her head, enjoying the feeling. But something wasn't right.

“Ethan? What are you doing?” She asked in a low whisper, she didn't really know if she wanted him to stop or not.

“You don't like it?” He whispered in her ear, sending goosebumps all over her body. “I… I don't know. we shouldn't…”

“Tell me what you want Haley”.

She turned around to face him, but she saw in horror it wasn't Ethan holding her. Alex was standing there, with a devilish smile on his face.

“You were hoping I was Ethan weren't you?”

Haley tried to escape from his grasp, she tried to scream but she wasn't able to do anything. “No! No! Let me go! No!”

“Haley? Haley wake up! Haley?”

Ethan was sitting beside her, shaking her and trying to wake her up. She opened her eyes, saw his blue eyes watching her with worry.

“Ethan? What… I was..”

“You were having a nightmare, it's ok. Go back to sleep.” He smiled softly.

“I can't go back to sleep… Damn it he’s everywhere!”

“He won't harm you again, I'll make sure of that.”

The sound of Haley's phone ringing interrupted their talk. Haley grabbed it, her brows furrowed,

“It's Sienna.”

She answered the call,

“Hey Si.”

Sienna’s serious voice made her stomach twist with worry,

“Haley, you need to come to the hospital.”

“What happened?” Haley asked, though she didn't want to know the answer.

“Alex was brought in a few minutes ago, he…he was in an accident. His condition is critical.”

Tag list: @rosebudde @queencarb

[iaintyourbro]

The Unknown Journey Continues

Part 1

I know it's been a while... but I've been going down a rabbit hole with @starlight-samurai regarding time loops, Jenova, Minerva, and more fun. So I figured I'd try to put it into one post to get the insanity out of my head. Everything in here is based on things we've found by either going through more obscure Ultimanias, learning more about Dirge of Cerberus and trying to decipher what the hell Jenova is by putting together various sources - including other Square Enix games - and how they handled freakishly similar scenarios.

Did you know there is a companion mobile game for it that was out on the good old flip phones? Did you know there was an online mode in Dirge of Cerberus only available in Japan, but had story elements that were not in the main game?

The sad part is, there's still so much to go through...

(I've also had various discussions with @ourfinalheaven, Manu, who doesn't have Tumblr, so here is her Twitter. and Somebody's Nightmare (here is her Twitter). So I wanted to tag them here, as it's much more fun to discuss these ideas as a group, since it'll only help you build on and strengthen your own ideas.)

Please be aware, there will be Spoilers for FFVII - Almost all Compilation titles, Xenogears, and NieR Automata throughout this.

So let's go on a journey where we explore what actually already exists in the compilation - including the idea of the whispers and timeloops - how Minerva may play into everything, and what exactly Jenova is capable of doing.

I asked Sesi if he'd ever played any of the NieR games, because he'd said something that made me wonder if they were going to take a similar approach. As a very, very quick high level summary: NieR Automata deals with a time loop type of idea. The androids will be rebooted and repeat the same things over and over again. This is broken when 2B is killed by A2 because she becomes infected with a virus. That being said, you have the option after Ending E to either erase all of your data and end the cycle OR you can try again. The Pods have a discussion, and one asks, "But won't they just do the same thing again?" and the other replies with "Maybe. But it could also be different this time."

Here's Sesi's message back to me when I asked him about this (cleaned up a bit since we were having a casual conversation over Discord):

Maybe I could just guess based comparatively on the Dirge storyline, because that was sort of SE's first flirtation with “robots and androids” since they’re all programmed and locked behind like task managers and shit that can shut them down. The story of the online mode for DoC that came out in Japan, we never got to see it, you’re basically an Android OC and you have to get to “the end of the level” and then essentially die, and a new one takes its place. This keeps happening until Weiss is essentially freed from being able to be task managed by the guys who are suppose to be able to control them and I know from tons of years with Square games that they’re verrrrry bad at differentiating their narratives they tend to just keep “ripping themselves off” so is it anything close to that?

Cuz if so I think I kinda know what you’re saying and yeah, I agree, I think with CC bringing in its poetic symbolism and LOVELESS, and DoC bringing back the cyclic nature of the lore, whispers, premonitions and future visions, proto-Materia and the perversion of this next cycle since the planet can no longer cleanse and protect itself and its will is weakening lesser and lesser to the point where it’s fate is “in a true sense of jeopardy This time essentially it’s all tied in together and sort of played as though it's a fated track; a cycle of events and something has hitched it, thus the whispers manifesting and Sephiroth's higher implied control over his destiny. Of course, even all that is just their new red herring game, but it’s definitely a part of the lore they want to play with, in order to go back and reMAKE the OG with the comp inserted from inception. Also gut punch a lot.

Time Loops

I was somewhat surprised to find out that this concept is NOT new to FFVII's universe. It's discussed in Dirge of Cerberus... probably one of the least played and least understood of the compilation. (Trying to sell a third person shooter with terrible controls to a market of mostly people used to turn-based combat wasn't going to go well.)

On top of it, we didn't even get all of it, since online mode was never released outside of Japan, and the Dirge of Cerberus Lost Episode was on Amp'd Mobile and Verizon flip phones back in 2006. Were you around for the cell phones in 2006? I had the ones on the list, and how somebody could play a game on those blows my mind.

Square has a tendency to reuse themes from their other titles. Probably one of the most blatant is the similarities between Xenogears and Final Fantasy VII. They were both being developed at the same time and a lot of ideas that didn't make it into FFVII ended up in Xenogears.

NieR

So how does this work? In NieR (both Replicant and Automata), you play the same path multiple times. Each time, it's slightly different depending on what side quests you did your first and second playthrough, but there's also other subtle differences throughout the story. In Automata, you get to play as 2B your first playthrough and 9S for your second. They follow the same path, but you get it from his perspective the second time and it reveals a bit more of what is going on. However, even with some slight differences, the main plot points stay the same and the ending result it also the same.

Then on your third playthrough, you wake up in the Bunker, and you're getting ready to go on a new mission. This time, though, 2B is killed and shit hits the fan. Things get crazy, you play as a new character: A2. In the end, pretty much everyone "dies", but you can choose to "reboot" and try again. You also can say you are done and let them all rest and delete your save data (the game gives you the option for both Automata and Replicant, and with Replicant, it actually leads to a new ending).

The striking thing for me is... There are certain events that will always happen, no matter what.

Fixed Points in Time

It's been years since I've watched Doctor Who, but there was something that stuck with me, and that was the fixed points in time. You can read about all of them here, but here's the basics:

Now, of course Doctor Who goes into this with much more detail and it's a recurring theme. However, as you read through that page, you'll probably find many aspects that have been used in various JRPGs that you've played. And Doctor Who most likely pulled some of the idea from classic Science Fiction novels. Each story puts its own spin on it.

How does this relate to FFVII Remake? Well, when they say that the major plot points will stay the same, it reminds me of this. No matter what, Cloud must fall into the Sector 5 Church, the Sector 7 Plate must be dropped, Aerith and Zack both must die, and Meteor has to be summoned, to name a few. So, with a time loop, those things would still have to take place in order to prevent a complete collapse of reality (at least in how Doctor Who uses it).

Therefore, the Whispers are ensuring that the Will of the Planet is followed.

One of the major themes in FFVII is that of loss. People die and they do not come back. Yes, other FF games do allow this to happen (FFX, FFXIII, FFXV), but VII is not those games. It was written with that idea in mind, that once a person dies, they, just like in real life, are dead and cannot be brought back.

I've previously written that I think they'll make us believe we are able to change fate, but we will eventually be slammed with the reality that we can't. That is because the planet has determined that certain events are fixed points.

Xenogears

Xenogears takes a bit of a different approach to the loop idea. Instead of repeating the same time period over and over, it has the characters reincarnated, and the same outcome happens each time: Elly dies. However, each time it's different. After all, they're in various time periods, in some cases thousands of years apart.

In all of the lives of Fei (who will have a different name in each time period) and Elly (who is always Elly/Elhaym), Elly will end up dying trying to protect Fei and the others. In one life, she is a religious figure at a totally not Catholic church, in another she's the wife of a scientist who was working to create children from nanomachines due to mass infertility issues. But she is ALWAYS with Fei, even if his name changes.

In her Mother Elhaym time, this is when Lacan (Fei) finally snaps. Though he's not fully aware of his past lives, he becomes aware, the anger consumes him, and he becomes Grahf. Fei is then reborn into the time period you play the game in.

There's a lot to unpack with this, so I won't go into it. Grahf wants to destroy God (Deus) because he thinks if he does, then it'll stop the suffering (his suffering).

If you do want to read more about Grahf, you can do so here, but it probably won't make much sense unless you've played Xenogears up to that point... Since it's much later in the game that this is all explained.

Lacan's desire was to stop the cycle of Elly always sacrificing herself for his sake. Though Grahf is not a perfect existence - he's not fully "The Contact", he sacrifices himself in order to let Fei move forward, and hopefully stop the cycle, by destroying the Deus system. (Elly also tries to sacrifice herself here, but Fei goes after her and stops her.)

Now, some people may think I'm saying that Cloud or somebody is going to do this in order to save Aerith or Zack (or his village or mom), but in FFVII if they do the loop method, I don't think Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and the others are aware of it. Most likely, it's only 'Sephiroth' and Aerith who are aware of it.

How this Could Be used for Final Fantasy VII

I'm stressing could because there's so many different possibilities on how they use this (if they are using this), so please, don't take this as fact. This is based on speculation based on what we know.

A time loop is a great way to explain away the differences in the story that we've seen: Biggs being alive, Wedge living for longer than he should have, etc. Since these are not major plot changes, they can simply say that this time it'll be slightly different... but your fixed points (major plot points) will remain the same.

It's a way to pull in some of the more obscure themes from Dirge of Cerberus and also play with the LOVELESS lore.

It could all simply be a big red herring and it's really just a remake of OG, but with the compilation tied together nicely... since it works much better when it's combined and not in 50 different games, books, movies, etc.

I don't think it's a "sequel" per say, not in the way I generally perceive a sequel. It's more of a loop of the same thing. The question is, when is the loop started and what will cause it to end? When will the planet (if it even is the planet) determine that it's good enough to begin moving forward?

JENOVA, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Minerva - Oh My!

Let's be real... Genesis isn't exactly the most popular character in the FFVII Compilation... but what if they make him one of the most important to the story? //Ducks as various fruits and vegetable are thrown in my direction//

I think what Genesis is probably most known for is his love of LOVELESS. He has the entire thing memorized and randomly says lines from it throughout Crisis Core. LOVELESS lore is still something I'm trying to grasp, so I am not going to comment much on it. Once I understand it more, I'll update this.

...And then this happens. The secret ending for Dirge of Cerberus, where Genesis picks up Weiss. Weiss, who has now been introduced along with Nero in FFVII INTERmission and is an optional ridiculously hard boss in the Shinra battle simulator in chapter 17 of the main story. There is some lore associated with the battle sim - so if you don't plan on beating it or you just can't, you can look up the pre-battle and post-battle cut scenes on YouTube. They're very short, but interesting. (I beat this asshole last night - it's a hell of a fight.)

....To Be Continued because apparently Tumblr won't allow more than 10 images per post now.... Next will be more on JENOVA and Sephiroth along with Minerva.

[neonscandal]

Manga With Me: MHA Pocket Theories

The Good Doctor

Am I reading like a mad hound so I can stop getting spoiled on twitter, tiktok, tumblr and instagram? Yes. Am I about to drop hella theories in one post because I'm behind in typing up my unsolicited analyses? Also yes. Will I later regret doing this when I eventually catch up to the manga and am proven wrong? Most certainly.

⚠️ Not even sure where to put the spoiler warning to so we're just going on vibes. Let's say spoilers through chapter 221.

Starting with most obvious to least plausible, without further ado..

✅ Origin: Daruma Ujiko is the same doctor who told Deku he was quirkless.

What if he used his position as a doctor to 1) spread misinformation about the toe-joint/quirkless relation when there isn't one, 2) to recruit unknowing specimen for Nomu experimentation (as it was hinted that, when the winged Nomu tried to kidnap Deku during the Stain arc, it was compared to one of Bakugo's old lackeys), 3) to pick quirks ripe for stealing. Did Deku have a quirk all along until ole Ujiko got through with him? He'd be in the perfect position to do all three. AOT Sidenote: It kind of reminds me of how integral the doctor in Marley was to getting the Owl in place.

✅ Pseudonym: The doctor's false name is a play on words like some of the other characters thus far.

We know that the mangaka incorporates some jokes in the names of some characters, my favorite being Testutetsu Tetsutetsu's. With that in mind, the doctor's choice to use Daruma puts me in the mind of those dolls that grant wishes. I don't know why I remember them in relation to Ranma 1/2, not sure if it was in the anime or manga but basically, a Daruma doll is said to help you achieve your goals in addition to being talismans of good luck, generally. Physically, Ujiko's similarities to the dolls or Bodhidharma, the Buddhist monk the dolls are modeled after, are limited but, in particular, I found his appearance below to be very striking:

In practice, you typically purchase a Daruma Doll with blank white eyes. Upon setting a goal for the year, you color one of the eyes making a pact with the deity within the doll to grant them full vision once your wish is granted in return. During this particular scene, Ujiko is negotiating with Shigiraki how to plot forward to achieve his ultimate goal. In addition to that, Ujiko is a staunch supporter of AFO who is known to play the long game. Maybe Ujiko represents luck and perseverance for him too. Though, with AFO in a better place to "impart blessings" with his quirk, his connections and his assumed wealth or outstanding debts he could call upon to collect at any time, I wonder what Ujiko gets in return. Learn more about Daruma Dolls here.

Additionally, as Nomu are products of Ujiko and AFO's experimentation, I find it funny that he chose a pseudonym likened to a doll. As we saw with the first Nomu captured from USJ, we see that it is largely without action unless issued a command from Shigiraki or someone they are programmed to obey like Dabi. Stripped of their humanity and autonomy, Nomu are arguably pretty doll-like as well. In this way, Ujiko is the great puppeteer.

❓ Experimentation: I don't think the hands on Shigiraki are that of his family's.

FIRST OF ALL. Them hands too damn big to be Hana's. Also, I don't know why I recall Shigiraki questioning why there was an extra pair of hands that AFO just kind of explained away though he should have Mother, Father, Grandmother, Grandfather, Hana's and I guess the two punks he exacted revenge on. On the one hand 🥁 , these act as conduits for his rage and frustration and I'm wondering if the good doctor has done something else to these hands to ensure that Shigiraki is constantly agitated. Additionally, the way that Ujiko asks how they are doing in particular makes me wonder if they are similar to vestiges in OFA. Like do the memories/consciousness of the people he killed live inside him as well?

What do you think, how far off base am I? I will hopefully be closing the gap this week so I'm looking forward to finding out incorrect I am with some of this.

[qianoir]

After Midnight 2 - Rhiannon

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: college dropout!Ten (WayV) x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, angst with fluff on top

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 13+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing (censored), lying, family problems, mentions death of reader's father, romance, this part determines the reader’s age but feel free to ignore

♡ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @staysstrays

Preview < 1 < 2

𝟏𝟎:𝟎𝟎 𝐀𝐌

Should I call him? No! What if it wasn't meant for me? Idiot, there was no one else in the café of course it was meant for you! What if it's a prank? It's probably the number to a McDonald’s or something. And if it's not..? What if he never comes into the café again?

You woke up in a freezing cold room with an acquainted boy named "Ten Lee" on your mind, contemplatively staring into his napkin before finally deciding to text him.

You typed the 11 digits into your phone.

Ok... now what do I say?

Hi Ten, this is Y/N from Décalcomanie.

Hi Ten, this is Y|

|

Why do I even care about this so much? It's just a text and for all I know this kid could be some kind of siren-vampire trying to seduce me with song lyrics at nighttime.. is that even possible?

Hi Mr. Lee this is Y/N from Décalcomanie.

Why so formal? Oh God I sent it..

It’s done.

You grabbed a towel and prepared a quick shower before continuing the rest of the morning. Intruding thoughts about Mr. Lee fill your mind under the water.. like.. why does he only visit the café at night? Your prior superstitious suspicions about him being a vampire fall back in mind.

At least if I get to be a vampire I can live this timeline as a doctor and make my mom happy, then be a dancer for eternity.

As much as you did not know about Ten, you still knew quite a bit about him. His favorite combination at the café is an iced Americano with pandan cake, his favorite color is black— you assume since it's the only color his outfits consist of, and he has a younger sister, which you found out after hearing him say 妹妹 over the phone one night.

The loud text notification sounds throughout the bathroom and you nearly slip trying to quickly finish your shower to check the new message.

Mom (Work)

My daughter! Your grandmother is sick, I am going to Incheon to bring her medicine and groceries so I need you to open the café today. I should be back to take over at 2 o’clock. Be careful on your own!

Unwrapping your body of your towel to dress into a nice outfit, you sighed knowing your Saturday would be another day spent on your sore feet. The café opens at 11 AM so you would only be working an extra few hours, but you hoped your mom would let you take a slice of delicacy home for the filial overtime.

“Aya!”

Another loud notification tone beamed from your phone, forcing your name brooch to prick at your fingertip. The screen luminated with an unknown number.

Contact Not Found

hihi Y/N! no need to be so formal with me! I'm only from ‘96 :)

Contact ‘TEN’ Added

TEN

are you free today? I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee and ice cream, if you're not sick of the smell yet ;p

You frowned remembering the plans your mother made for your day.

Y/N

I'm so sorry Ten my mom wants me to work opening for the café today :(

Figuring that was your ending, you packed a bag full of necessities for the day and walked to Décalcomanie.

TEN

why don't I come over there? the café serves bingsoo this time of year right? it’s barely the afternoon, not many people will be dining. we could still hang out if you’re down?

Butterflies soared in your stomach just like they do every night at 11:59 PM.

Y/N

Yeah that sounds perfect :)

TEN

okk see you soon!

Eek!

It felt so weird to think of seeing him in the daytime, especially after just mentally accusing him of being a bloodsucker.

Upon your entrance, the café was soon bright with morning light and you patiently awaited Ten’s arrival. Nearly an hour had gone by and there was no sign of him. You didn't think he would flake out, but you barely know each other so why wouldn't he?

Ten was right; it was pretty empty here this morning. You bent forward to hand one of the regular old women her tea in the Décalcomanie’s prettiest teacup upon your mother’s request of the best service for all of her regular customers.

The bell chimed with an open door. Your eyes blinked to the woman's upturned phone by her saucer.

𝟏𝟏:𝟓𝟗 𝐀𝐌

Could it be? You laughed at the irony in the thought, but when you looked up from the woman’s table, a rice cake cheeked boy stood across from you.

"I'm here!" He announced to the entire floor.

You bowed a greeting like you do for every customer and ushered him to the bar, "Sit down over here." where he sat in front of your standing form. "What type of bingsoo have you come in for, sir?" You teased.

"Coconut with vanilla ice cream! And.. two spoons?"

You blushed at the thought of sharing subtle intimacy with the fine young man before your eyes. You had only just met him, but you saw no harm in sharing a dessert with him as you would do with friends.. if you had them.

Nodding and running off to make the icy dessert, you heard the ripple of a writing pen. From the corner of your eye, peeked Ten orchestrating an English poem onto a stray napkin, his brown bangs falling on the bridge of his nose. These little actions made your heart jump; his passion for various styles of music felt so endearing to you.

You paid for the grandiose bowl of sugar and presented it to Ten. His phone lit up with a notification and you took notice of his wallpaper: Him with a disgusted looking boy that he was French kissing on the cheek. I'm not judging but.. whomst?

"Who's that?" You asked, handing him a spoon, taking another for yourself.

He glanced at his phone and blushed, breaking out in quiet giggles.

"That's my friend, Yangyang. We really enjoy our time together."

You hummed and smiled. They seem to have a good friendship, but you were still curious to know more about this Yangyang guy.

"So you attend university?" Ten asked before shoveling a high spoon of ice flakes into his mouth.

"I'm a sophomore at SNU." You replied, mirroring his bold eating style.

Ten spoke with surprised eyes, "Really!? That's a fancy school. Wow～ you must be really smart."

"Not really.. I'm studying dance. All I do is move my feet."

"I'm a dancer, too! It's a really hard and beautiful art, you shouldn't sell yourself short for being a part of it." He genuinely advised.

You looked down after thanking him for his kind words, suddenly feeling very bashful. "How old are you, by the way? You calling me Mr. Lee this morning is all I've been thinking about." You both laughed.

"I'm 20, turning 21 this year.” He nodded. "You're from ‘00? Yangyang is the same age as you!"  He exclaims.

"I’ve never met someone my age! How many friends do you have?"

"I have a few, but I’m closest to a specific six and we all live together."

"It must be nice to have so many friends. It’s been a little difficult for me to make friends this semester.." You stirred some melted ice cream around your side of the bowl, suddenly feeling very lonely in Ten’s personal presence.

"You should come over sometime! We love new friends!" He was pleading with his eyes for you to agree.

"Oh.. I don't want to intrude-" "No really! We would love to have your company. Here..." He flipped over the napkin he was previously writing on and scribbled a short address on it, sliding it over to you.

"You should come by tomorrow evening. 5 o'clock if it works for you." Ten says before finishing off the last bit of flavored dairy in the bowl.

You scanned over the inked napkin in your hand.

97 Saemunanro, Sinmunno 1 il-ga, Jongnogu, Seoul

"It's apartment number 117. Just call me when you get there because we may not be able to hear your knocks over the screaming." You looked at him in slight concern, but he only smiled in return.

Ten took out his card to pay for the bingsoo, but you stopped him. "Oh I already paid for the both of us!"

"Aww you didn't have to," Ten frowned, but handed me $20 anyways, "Here take this at least. A tip for my favorite barista." He winked and ran out of the café before you could protest.

"REMEMBER 5 O'CLOCK!"

Ten shouted, bumping into a man, who cursed at him, profusely bowing on the way out. You shook your head at his silliness and flipped the napkin over to a pretty poem.

She is like a cat in the dark and then

she is the darkness

She rules her life like a fine skylark

and when the sky is starless

To Be Continued…

Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac

𝘲𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳

[layce2015]

The Last of Us Part 2 (Joel x Reader)

(A/n: just wanna say that I'm not gonna follow the game completely. A good amount of it I will follow but there is a fate of a certain character that I'm gonna change as I feel Naughty Dog did this character dirty.)

Chapter 1: I Don't Know What Happened

The Last of Us (Joel x Reader) Masterlist

"I don't know what happened." Joel admits to Tommy as he starts to clean the neck of the guitar. The two brothers were out on patrol and decided to stop and take a break in this abandoned house. There Tommy had to ask Joel what happened with the Fireflies as Joel and (y/n) seemed a bit tight lipped about what happened.

"(Y/n) and I were suppose to take her to the Fireflies and walk away." Joel said before he let's out a small scoff. "You go halfway across the country with someone. She needed her immunity to mean something. Maybe we were starting to buy into that whole...cure business. Maybe (y/n) and I just wanted to do right by her. And then we made it." Joel explains as Tommy sits across from him, listen intently.

"We found the Fireflies. And because of her...they were actually going to make a cure. The only catch...it would kill her." Joel said, whispering the last sentence.

Flashback

"Sweet Jesus." Joel mutters and (y/n)'s jaw drops as the couple made it to the operating room.

"Doctor?" A nurse said and the doctor turns to them and gasped. "What're you two doing here? I won't let you two take her. This is our future. Think of all the lives we'll save." The doctor said as he grabs a scalpel and aims it at them. Joel glares at the doctor with determination while (y/n) closed her mouth and started to reach for her gun.

Present Day

"Jesus, Joel." Tommy mutters, shocked, as he stares at his older brother. "What did you two do?" He asked. Joel looks up at Tommy for a moment and replies. "We saved her."

Flashback 

After killing the doctor, Joel disconnects the tubes and goes to pick Ellie up. "Stay back!" (Y/n) yelled at the nurse as Joel whispers to Ellie. "Come on, baby girl. I gotcha..."

As he picks her up, the couple look out the window to see some lights shining through. "Oh shit." Joel said as he starts to run at the door. "Get back!" (Y/n) ordered at the guards that were coming in, aiming her gun at them before turning around and follow Joel out of the room.

Present Day

"Damn, Joel. That's um...that's a lot." Tommy said, sounding like this was a hard pull to swallow. Tomny looks down them back up towards Joel. "What does Ellie know?" He asked as Joel continued to clean the guitar. "I told her they ran some tests. I told her...her immunity meant nothing." Joel replied.

"And she believed you?" Tommy asked, curiously. "She didn't say otherwise." Joel said, softly, as he looks down. "And (y/n) was okay with this?" Tommy asked. Joel stops cleaning the guitar, looks at the floor for a bit before he raises his head up and nods at his brother.

Flashback

"Joel?" (Y/n) asked her husband as they drive down the highway in the truck, Ellie still passed out in the backseat. Joel turns his head slightly to look at her, her face full of concern and worry. "Are we really gonna go through with this? Lying to her?" She asked.

"We have to. For her sake." Joel replied. (Y/n) let's out a sigh then looks down at her hands. She looks over her shoulder at Ellie and starts to think over what just happened. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Joel asked her, concerned.

(Y/n) continues to look at Ellie, as if she held all the answers, and she started to think about what if they let Ellie die, and it turned out that the vaccine didn't work? Then Ellie would've died for nothing. But then what if it did? Would the world go back to normal?

(Y/n) let's out another sigh before she turns to Joel and shakes her head at him. "No. I just don't like lying to her." She whispers before she turns back around and starts to twiddle her thumbs together.

Present Day

Tommy let's out a heavy sigh and shakes his head before he looks back at Joel. "We should head back." Tommy said and he gets up and grabs his backpack. Joel watches him start to leave then stands up, grabs his bag and the guitar and follows him out.

The two brothers go out to the garage, open the door then head to the horses and climb on. Then the two head out and start to head back home.

They make their way over the grassy hill to see the town of Jackson in the distance. As they make their way down the hill, Tommy starts to speak. "Did (y/n) go for her checkup?" Tommy asked Joel as they continued down the hill.

"She's suppose to go today...guess I'll find out how she is when I get there." Joel replied as the worry for the wellbeing of his wife started to linger in his mind. The past week, she had been sick and throwing up it seemed like every morning. She thought it was some type of flu but it didn't feel like the flu.

Luckily, there was a doctor in Jackson and (y/n) decided to go see him. Joel hoped that the doctor would figure it out and give (y/n) some sort've medicine. He hated to see her so miserable.

"We're almost there." Tommy said to Joel as they make it to the front gate of Jackson. As they got closer, the doors opened and they trotted inside and head over to the stable. Joel gets off of his horse, grabs the reigns and starts to lead the horse to the stable.

"It's okay. I got them, you go on." Tommy said to Joel. "You sure?" Joel asked and Tommy nods. "Alright." Joel mutters then he grabs his bag off of the saddle. "About what we were talking about earlier...." Tommy started to say and Joel stops and turns to him.

"I can't say I'd have done different. I'll take it to the grave if I have to." Tommy said to Joel, who nodded at him. "I'll see you later, Tommy." Joel said and he starts to walk down the street while Tommy leads the horses to the stable.

Meanwhile, Ellie was sitting her little room, which was basically a shed behind Joel and (y/n)'s house, drawing in her journal. She was listening to her walkman, which she fixed, and started bobbing her head to the music as she continued to draw.

Unbeknownst to her, there was a knock at the door but, thanks to her headphones, she didn't hear the knock. The door opens and Joel sticks his head inside. "Hello? Ellie?" He calls out but he noticed that she had her headphones on.

So he walks over to her then nudges the chair with his foot, which startles Ellie as she jumps and takes off her headphones. She turns her head and sees Joel standing behind her. "Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack." She said, breathless, as she closes her journal and stands up to face him.

"I tried knocking, but..." Joel stops as he gestures towards the door. Ellie leans against her desk and looks up at Joel. "Hey." She said. "Hey." He said back. "What's up, Joel?" She asked him. "Just checking in." Joel replied. "Folks are..." he let's out a sigh then he starts to pace back and forth in her room.

"...y'know talking about how impressed they are with you and how well you're helping out." He finished. "Good." Ellie said. "Yeah." He mutters.

"Umm...is (y/n) okay? I heard she wasn't feeling good." Ellie said, concerned. "She hadn't made it back from the doctor yet....but I guess I'll find out here real soon." He said and Ellie nods.

"Tommy and I went out riding the other day and he, uh...he told me a joke and I thought about you. It's ummm....." Joel said but then he stopped as he tries to remember the joke. "Well, shoot, I forgot it. Something about a clock...how do you--" he started to say but Ellie interrupts him.

"Joel, it's, uh, it's pretty late, and I gotta get up in a few hours--" she said. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know, and I'm gonna get out of your hair. I just um--" he said then he points towards the door then looks back at her. "I wanna show you somethin'. Just gimme one second." He said as he goes to the door, opens it and picks up the guitar then comes back in her room.

"What's this?" Ellie asked him, nodding towards the instrument. "Some folks call this here a gee-tar." Joel replied, really pouring into his Texas accent. "Funny." Ellie chuckles, softly. "You wanna hear something?" Joel asked her. "Okay." She said and he nods as he goes to sit down, the guitar on his lap.

"Promise me that you won't laugh." He said to her. "I won't laugh. I won't." She assures him as she sits down in her chair. "I'm trusting you." Joel said, smirking, then he takes a deep breath and starts to play.

If I ever were to lose you

I'd surely lose myself

Everything I have found here

I've not found by myself

Try and sometimes you'll succeed

To make this man of me

All of my stolen missing parts

I've no need for anymore

I believe

And I believe 'cause I can see

Our future days

Days of you and me

As he sings the song, Ellie smiles, softly, at him while (y/n) started walking towards the door then leaned against the frame. She got back from the doctors and spent most of the evening walking around Jackson, trying to clear her head as she was shocked at what the doctor had said to her.

It took her awhile to convince herself that she had to tell Joel and she was heading back to their home when she heard music playing. She followed it and realized that it was coming from Ellie's little shed house and walked up just in time to hear her husband sing.

She smiled fondly at this as she remembered the day he first sang to her. It was actually about a year after they started dating and he brought out his guitar and started to play and sing for her. In that moment, (y/n) realized that she had, indeed, falling in love with Joel. When he was done singing, she said the words "I love you" first and he, of course, he said "I love you" back.

(Y/n) was brought back to the present when she heard him stop playing and he looks over at Ellie. "There you go." He said. "Well...that didn't suck." Ellie replied, smiling, and Joel chuckles while (y/n) smiles. "I'll take what I can get." Joel said.

"Well, in my opinion, you still got it." (Y/n) said and both Ellie and Joel look over at her, both of them startled as they didn't hear her come in. "Hey." Joel said as he starts to stand up, still holding the guitar in his hand, and walking up to her.

"Hey, (y/n). You doing okay?" Ellie asked and (y/n) let's out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine but, um..." she said then she looks over at Joel. "I-I need to talk to you, privately." She said to him.

The two share a look before Joel nods then goes back over to Ellie and holds out the guitar to her. "She's yours." He said to her, who looks at this in shock. "No. No, no, no, I don't know the first thing about this." Ellie said, quickly. "I promised that I'd teach you how to play." He said as Ellie takes the guitar.

She looks up at him, surprised that he remembered that. She smiles then looks down at the instrument. "You did." She said, softly. "So what you say? Tomorrow night, first lesson?" He asked her. "Deal." She replied, smiling. "Okay." Joel said and (y/n) smiles at this.

Joel walks over to (y/n), who takes his hand in hers, and they start to walk out until Ellie speaks up. "Did--" she stops as the two adults turns to her. "Did you remember the joke?" Ellie asked him and Joel leans against the door and thinks for a moment before he remembered how the joke went.

"What is the downside to eating a clock?" He recites and Ellie thinks for a moment but shrugs as she couldn't think of an answer. "It's time-consuming." Joel said and Ellie chuckles and (y/n) snickers under breath. "That's so dumb." Ellie laughs. "Yeah." Joel and (y/n) said then Joel grabs the knob of the door.

"Goodnight, kiddo." He said and he shuts the door and the two adults head back to their house.

Later, Joel opens the front door of their home and (y/n) walks in first before she stops in the middle of the hallway. "Everything alright?" Joel asked her after he shuts the door and walks up to her, her back facing him and her arms folded across her chest.

(Y/n)'s heart was beating rapidly, whether in fear or excitement she wasn't for sure. She just wasn't sure how Joel would take this news. "Hey." Joel said, softly, as he comes up to her and places his hands on her shoulders. 

She turns her head to look at him then placed her right hand on one of his hands. "Whatever it is you need to tell me, we'll get through it." He said and she smiled at this, then she removes her hand off of his and turns to face him.

"I, uh...I really don't know how to say it, so I'm gonna come out and say it." (Y/n) said and Joel gives her a worried look as she takes a few deep breathes before she starts to speak. "Joel...I'm pregnant." 

Joel's eyes widen and he let's out a gasp at this. "What? Y-You serious?" He asked her, shocked. "Yeah. He thinks I'm at least alittle over a month along. So that night we had together when we were out on patrol and that storm came through and we took shelter..." She replied and placed her hand over her stomach, feeling the little bump. There was long shocked pause between the two before she speaks up.

"Joel? Honey, are you...?" She started to asked but then Joel cups her face in his hands then leans in and kissed her on the lips. "Thank you." He whispers, his lips ghosting over her lips. (Y/n) let's out a breathless laugh and the couple share another loving kiss then embrace one another, relishing in this happy moment.

A moment that neither one of them ever dreamed would come true.