#oh and i think i found a therapist i just need to send an email so i'm working up the courage to do that

[regular-lord-reckoner]

just got home from a mandatory work meeting i had to actually go into the office for

i thought it was something pertaining to the raises they admitted they lied to us about and how everyone was pissed, but...nope!! just usual business shit and a lot of stuff i really didn’t need to be there for

but worry not because one of my managers saw me riiiiiight as i was about to leave and was like, “hey, do you have more time to work on some charts because one of our other providers needs some help for a few weeks with his”

so it’s not a done deal, she said she’d talk to him this evening but i did tell her if that was the case then i would definitely need some help with one of the other tasks i’m supposed to be working on and that i’m taking the last week of this month off so if i can work around that then fine

also going to take that as permission to get more overtime because so far no one has said anything about me getting some every weekend for the past few weeks so i’m going to keep that going but still be putting in more job applications because whew

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Dear Evan Hansen

You may have seen some ~online discourse~ about the film Dear Evan Hansen, an adaptation of the 2016 Broadway musical, and you might have wondered what all the hubbub is about. I mean, it’s a feel good story about a senior in high school, Evan Hansen (Ben Platt), who has some pretty severe anxiety and depression. While trying to fulfill an assignment from his therapist to write a letter to himself, his letter gets picked up by another student, Connor (Colton Ryan) - and later that day, Connor kills himself. Connor’s grieving parents and sister Zoe (Amy Adams, Danny Pino, and Kaitlyn Dever) are desperate to learn more from the boy they think was Connor’s best friend - after all, Connor’s suicide note was a letter addressed to “Dear Evan Hansen.” And, as you can imagine, Evan tells them about the unfortunate mistake and sits with them in their grief as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives. 

Just kidding! He lies to them, repeatedly, elaborately, expansively for months, constructing an entire false friendship with Connor that never happened, and ingratiating himself into the wealthy nuclear family he never had, in large part because he wants to get into Zoe’s pants! THIS IS THE PROTAGONIST OF THE STORY. Oh, and it’s a musical so there is a lot of singing and crying and singing WHILE crying and sometimes crying and not singing at all. But the #inspiration, you guys. 

Things I liked:

Pretty much everything but the story and Ben Platt’s performance. The supporting cast is stacked, and all of them do a great job at elevating material scraped directly out of a diaper worn by someone who just chewed their way through a copy of the DSM-5. 

A couple of the songs are damn catchy - “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found” are standouts for a reason - and here’s the thing, Platt sings them well. But as you’ll discover, there’s a lot more to a movie musical than just singing your part. 

Stephen Chbosky, the man behind every deep thought I and a lot of people in my generation had in 2006 after he wrote The Perks of Being a Wallflower, is a pretty good director. I particularly enjoyed the fanvid-type cuts in “Waving Through a Window” in conjunction with the lyrics, and his use of interstitial shots to flashbacks (and sometimes flashforwards!) is a neat little bit of shorthand that I thought was used sparingly enough to be effective. 

Amy Fucking Adams. She’s holding on so hard, so desperately to the idea of who her son could have been, rather than the reality of who he was, and she is full of such deep pain that is masked by an almost endless supply of patience with Evan and relentless positivity. All this made me want was Enchanted 2 even worse than I already did. 

Super into everything Zoe wears - the costuming department did a great job, and now all I want to do is live in mom jeans and baggy sweaters.

Did I Cry? I teared up a couple of times because I’m not a completely heartless bastard and when Amy Adams offered Evan Connor’s college money, my heart broke for the lie Evan had thrust upon her, and Julianne Moore’s song got me good, because she’s just a single mom to Evan who is doing her goddamn best. 

Things I hated more than the time I dropped a frozen gallon container of fruit cocktail on my pinkie toe in my parents’ garage and it turned black and I thought it was gonna fall off:

Ben Platt is 28 years old. He originated the role of Evan Hansen on Broadway, so in many respects it makes sense that he plays the role in the movie, except for the one kinda sorta important thing where he looks like a wizened old crone standing amongst a sea of children doing his best twitching, cringing Hunchback of Notre Dame impression. If you want someone to convincingly play 20 years their junior, hire Paul Rudd. Otherwise, please don’t ask me to believe that this supposed 18-year-old has crow’s feet. 

And that twitching nervous energy is a huge part of the black hole at the center of this film - he’s playing to the cheap seats and walking through the halls of his high school like a wet chihuahua. It’s an excruciating acting choice to watch - he doesn’t just have anxiety, he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown seemingly every second of every day. Like honestly, where is only-mentioned-never-seen Dr. Sherman, because this young man’s meds are NOT WORKING DR. SHERMAN. 

There’s such a lack of self-awareness on behalf of the writing, directing, and performance by Platt. There’s one song, “Sincerely, Me,” that offers the only glimpse of commentary about what Evan is doing, by pointing out the malicious ridiculousness of him writing a series of fake emails as proof of his and Connor’s friendship. 

Also what high schoolers email this much?? I know this was written in probably 2014 or so, but has a bitch never heard of a text? Even a DM? This whole plot is constructed around the premise that high schoolers are just constantly, constantly emailing each other. 

Everything - and I mean EV-ER-Y-THING - about Evan’s relationship with Zoe is so creepy and disturbing that with a soundtrack change, this could easily be a horror movie. He attempts to get her to like him by describing to her all the things her brother noticed about her - oh wait, I’m sorry, all the things HE noticed about her while he was skulking in the shadows following her around for years, watching every move she made, and it ends with him singing repeatedly “I LOVE YOU” because following a girl around and never having a conversation with her or knowing her at all is love, right? This was clearly written by the same people who chose “Every Breath You Take” as their wedding song because Sting is hot and they never actually listened to the damn words. 

And it gets about 10 billion times worse when Zoe goes to Evan’s house alone, takes him up to his room, and sings “I don’t need reasons to want you” and that was the moment I was that person I hate in a movie theater and I pulled out my phone to Google who wrote the music and lyrics to the musical (we were in the back row of the theater no one was behind me THIS WAS AN OUTRAGE EMERGENCY) and of motherfucking course it was written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, 2 men who heard about meeting an actual human woman from a friend one time but otherwise are unfamiliar with the concept. 

Lastly, enormous serial killer vibes from Evan sending unlabeled flash drives anonymously through the mail with no note in an attempt to right his wrongs. That’s not catharsis, that’s how the next installment in the Saw franchise starts, with Evan in a Billy the clown doll mask showing up on the screen and asking if you want to play a fucking game. 

Also, I know it’s not possible for the narrative to justify this in a way that could be satisfying based on Evan’s actions, but what is with this thing where single working-class mom Julianne Moore is turning down rich people’s money for Evan to go to college? Like, obviously we can’t have that happen in the movie but in real life, fuck your pride! Take those rich people’s money!

I also know how movies work but nothing annoys me more than a giant group of high schoolers all getting beeps and boops to indicate text notifications all at the same time because I don’t know a single person under the age of 55 who keeps their ringer on. That shit is on vibrate AT MOST, and I feel like that’s a millennial thing. 

The emotional climax of the film is obviously Evan’s WAY TOO LATE confession, but the idea that it’s prompted by Connor’s family suddenly getting a lot of internet hate is, frankly, laughable. If Sandy Hook taught me one thing, it is that no tragedy is immune from trolls who live only to cause other people devastating emotional pain on the internet. That shit starts day 1. Apparently no one involved in this production has ever been on Twitter?

Also it feels like there should have been a dog somewhere in this movie and there was no dog, so points off for that too. 

Perhaps Dear Evan Hansen isn’t nearly as deep as it aspires to be. Perhaps it’s a morality play, a simplistic message of “Don’t lie, kids, lying is bad!” Major studio movies wrap themselves up with a nice bow at the end so everyone can feel good about themselves and leave with a happy ending, but the moronic cruelty on display here makes that feat feel impossible. We’re left with Evan in an orchard, reading Connor’s favorite books and staring into the big blue sky with all the self-actualization he’s earned now as a lil treat. And if Evan Hansen looked like an actual 18-year-old, it would be a lot easier to extend more empathy to him and his not-fully-developed prefrontal cortex, but it’s a little harder with this fully-grown, weathered man who was old enough to remember seeing Liar Liar in theaters. 

Dear Evan Hansen, 

Get some actual help and a haircut and maybe you can grow up enough to have an actual healthy interaction with any other living person, ever.

Sincerely, 

Me

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[lindyloosims]

Fresh out of university and having opted for a Language and Literature degree instead of Fine Arts, I paid my aunt and uncle a visit. I was planning on taking a gap year before delving into the world of career building. I was almost twenty three and a lot had happened since I turned eighteen and left home to further my education, I hadn’t been back to Tartosa in about three years, since Hallie Campbell mysteriously went missing. When I headed off to Britechester, we texted and we emailed and we video chatted every day for about six months. Every day eventually became once a week, then our communication just seemed to stop. Hallie was depressed, her mother couldn’t afford to send her to university so she was working in a café in Brindleton Bay, that was the last place anyone saw her. She was officially classed as a missing person and I could hardly concentrate on my studies! I visited her mother, she told me everything she knew, that Hallie had set off for work one morning and never got there. That she had changed, she was no longer sweet little Hallie, she was now moody and reclusive Hallie who hid in her bedroom when she wasn’t out at all hours during the night.

I helped search for her that summer, staying with Uncle Brantley and Aunt Paisley who were more than happy to have me back, they couldn’t have kids of their own so when Lance and I came to stay for all those summers, they loved having us around. I couldn’t go back after that, not finding Hallie and my grades slipping, so I concentrated on my studies. I kept in touch with my aunt and uncle and Hallie’s mum, but she was never found. It wasn’t until I graduated that I finally let my emotions come to the forefront...and I was a mess! So talking it out with Uncle Brantley, having a few drinks, well it seemed like a good idea at the time. Lance had insisted on coming to Tartosa with me, telling me I was in no fit state to drive. He was scared I might do something stupid, I was crying all the time and having major mood swings. My mum and dad argued that I needed see a therapist not my uncle, to talk through my grief, like Hallie was dead! I refused to believe that!

So I promised I would do what my parents asked, if I could go to Tartosa and try to exorcise my ghost! “I think this is good for you Shawn, facing reality?” Uncle Brantley had drank one rum and coke, I was on my fourth and I wasn’t a drinker as a rule.

“Yeah, reality!” I repeated, nodding dizzily.

“You know, say goodbye to Hallie?” Oh boy, he mentioned her name! Every time someone mentioned her name lately I fell to pieces!

I gave him a fake smile and nodded, “You’re right Uncle B! I’m j-jus-g-oing...to get some air!” I stammered and headed out the back. 

Getting air when I was that drunk was not a good idea because when the cold wind hit me I felt it, all four shots of it! At first I thought it was the booze, I was seeing things, my mind was playing drunken tricks with me! But I was wrong, very wrong!

<Previous_Next>

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (6/10)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

“As an employee you’re entitled to sick leaves.”

Entitled. It didn’t necessarily mean he needed it. Levi allowed himself a sequence of motions, some reassurance that his body was still functioning as expected

He raised his shoulders up then rolled it back, stretching his neck, bending it to one side then the other. It did wonders to help send a rush of energy through his still exhausted body. It  served as a reminder, he was strong, he was functional. “I don’t need a day off. I’m fine, ” Levi said. 

Erwin raised one eyebrow, giving him a once over. If he had narrowed his eyes anymore or wrinkled his nose, Levi could have given in. Other parts of his body were still reeling from the ordeal from the beach and he was sure he could fall asleep if someone just laid him out on a sofa.

Erwin though was a man of the office, a staunch professional. When it came to work and productivity, he leaned on the side of ‘being productive.’ He took Levi’s word for it.  “If you are feeling anything, just anything out of the ordinary, take the day off. Feel free to just leave me a note, and I can have Petra or Eld handle the rest of the testing.” 

The word ‘testing’ didn’t do much to convince Levi to rest though and maybe Erwin knew that. Levi slammed the door behind him hard enough to have him preparing for a lecture from Erwin about door slamming manners.

He waited in front of the door, gripping the doorknob from behind him for a good few more seconds. 

“We could start working next week?” Hange appeared right next to him. More specifically, she had accompanied him to Erwin’s office that morning, settling for just loitering outside the door, providing a perfectly valid reason for the internal question ‘ did she hear his conversation with Erwin?’

“It’s a Tuesday and it’s not a holiday,” Levi answered matter-of-factly. 

“Well, don’t companies have sick leaves?” 

“They do.” 

“And you were in the hospital just yesterday.” 

“I was in the hospital under observation,” Levi clarified. 

“After almost drowning,” Hange added.

“Just because the doctor prescribes a few more days of bed rest, doesn’t make it an almighty rule.” It was evidence that maybe a day off or two would have definitely made the difference. That slightly caustic exchange had Levi’s head spinning. He found himself having to squint just to even feign eye contact. “Besides, why are you here anyway?” 

“To work on the love alarm. Don’t you think it’s better if we work closely with each other?” 

“Not this early into the whole process. We could have talked through email.” Levi attempted to walk ahead. His office wasn’t too far from Erwin’s  a good few flights of stairs below. With his head slightly spinning and his legs feeling like jelly, Levi went for the elevators.

It was as if Hange was on a mission to flaunt her ability to speed up her pace. She walked next to him then a few feet ahead, turning back at him. And she had been that way since that morning. 

Levi gave in. “Okay, so what parts of the planning process merit a meeting today?” 

“Well, I’m worried for one.” 

“There are many meetings that could have been an email and I think you lecturing me about not taking a sick leave is one of them.” 

“Yeah, and there’s more...” Hange trailed off, giving him a good look from head to toe. Levi liked to believe she just couldn’t find the right answer to whatever implicit question he introduced at that moment. “I’m sorry about yesterday, and the day before.” 

“That could have been an email.” 

“I know Zeke gave you shit about being carried by me and having to be saved by me...” 

Levi stifled a cringe. A bridal carry to be specific. “That could have also been an email.” 

Hange huffed. “Fine. I get if you want to be so pissy about this but let me be selfish. I didn’t join Zeke on his business trip and it’s because I felt guilty. About you almost drowning, about you being forced to play golf and almost losing all your money over a few games. It was shitty okay. And for my own peace of mind, please let me join you at work, and maybe just help you make some progress with the alarm, even just a bit?” 

There was nothing much else his muddled brain could come up with in that moment of silence. “Okay,” Levi said, with a tone that could have easily been seen through. It was in fact, not okay. 

“Why? Is there anything else you’re busy with?” 

Levi sighed. “Making sure that damn love alarm gets tested for the next release.”

***

Anticipation had the tendency of piling stress much higher than the stress was actually worth. For many people, they only realize how much of a simple task something can be when they’re actually doing it. 

When work would pile up, stress would pile up. When Levi’s brain was working at half capacity, while trying to balance responsibilities and a guilty Hange in tow, he was barely thinking about work yet still attempting to the best of his meagre abilities.  

When the work was finally in front of him, the workflow tracker out, the whole ordeal of anticipating a workload had turned out to be anticlimactic. Maybe he had just gotten used to days leading up to releases being particularly stressful. After all, it usually involved early morning sanity checks, junk food and a stressed out team. 

Usually. They had some good releases and the one that day seemed like a good release. Of course it would be a less stressful release. It was under testing for months and it had been pushed back a week already. The QA work was almost over. To be just a little more certain, Levi filtered his workflow tracker to staged tickets and to tickets tagged ‘ready for release.’ 

“So, how does this pre-release testing work?” Hange asked, leaning forward. She had taken the liberty to pull one of the chairs to the corner towards and sat beside him. 

“I’m working,” Levi said coldly.

“Oh, but you said you needed to test the love alarm.” 

“Yes, the team is testing it. I’m making sure everything gets tested.” 

“So how do you make sure everything gets tested?” 

“Well… There’s this tracker here, I assign tickets for testing and when people say it’s tested they click QA passed and I see it here. Then if anything urgent needs testing or anything doesn’t seem to work, I help out and try to fix it,” Levi said, he opened his drawer dropping one of his test devices on the table. 

“So you could have gotten a day off,” Hange asked, seemingly knowingly. 

Levi glanced at the dashboard to seeall tickets were tagged as ‘Ready to Release.’  the others having been done a week back. He was too lazy to check the event history and there was no need to. The necessary work had been finished. 

Maybe he could have taken the day off. He wasn’t admitting that though. “So tell me, what are your plans? We’re getting the money soon according to Erwin but you’re the mastermind behind this.” Levi swiveled his chair behind him, grabbed his whiteboard eraser and cleaned out some of the useless notes from the next release. 

Half way through cleaning it up though, he stopped. There might be something you’ll need there. He cursed himself for even erasing some of it to the point of incomprehensible. 

“You wanna just use the workflow tracker? Like the one on your computer?” Hange suggested. 

“No, this is fine…” Levi racked his brain for those numbers and he settled for just writing the notes just much smaller below the release notes to the side with the larger font. 

It looked messy. It looked ugly. And his dominant meticulous side would not stand for it. In one swift motion borne out of frustration, Levi swiped his white board eraser over the whiteboard five times, more than enough to wipe it clean. 

“Was there anything important there?” Hange asked.

“Just a cleaner version of what we have in the tracker,” Levi said with a slight huff. He would rather Hange wasn’t reminded of whatever could have been there.

“Well, you wanna brainstorm on the whiteboard?” 

“It’s blank now.” Levi gestured for Hange to go ahead. 

“There’s actually not much to brainstorm on my end,” Hange said. Still, she walked a little nearer, grabbing the marker from Levi. She drew a heart. “You used biological markers to determine love right? That’s how you made the application. If you could assume love based on biological markers… maybe you can break it down and do it similarly for feelings right? I work with psychotherapy and I thought your application might have the potential to be tweaked in the context of assessing emotion Just to give therapists an idea of how their patients feel….” Hange trailed off. She drew a small diagram under the heart, a sad face, a happy face then a blank face. “I mean we have the technology for it already right? Most phones now are capable of more complex biometrics, that’s what the love alarm is taking advantage of.” 

Levi hummed. The diagram made it look just a little too easy. “And how do you think we can break down the application?” He knew the answer. Testing Hange though had been a tempting option.

Hange looked back at him, a confident grin on her face.“Yeah, you have the data already? And you created models or algorithms. Maybe you can extract part of those data sets and we can cut it down… to ‘happy,’ to ‘sad’ etcetera. And you can use what you have to make other types of alarms, like a happy alarm, a sad alarm. Right?

“We have the technology and the hardware to pull that off I guess. It’ll just be a matter of making a model, logging data, and coding. Doable with the right resources.” 

“But it should be easier since you already have some of the work done with the love alarm.” 

“But it won’t be as accurate at first. It took us five years to get the love alarm to this level of accuracy. I can’t even guarantee it’s completely accurate,” Levi said. 

“What about it takes time?” 

“We use an AI algorithm.”

“Artificial Intelligence,” Hange said. 

Levi nodded. “It’s a machine learning model. We give the model data as an input and data as an output and the more data you put into it, the more experience the machine has and the better the machine gets at figuring out what the correct answer is . We give it the biological data, the input and we give it the output, the anonymous test results and some formulas, and overtime, the machine starts to figure out for itself what love is.” 

“So you can’t actually break down the application to do it for you?” 

“We can but it will be a pain. Might as well just create a new model.” 

“Will it take as long as the love alarm?

Levi shook his head. “We have the necessary APIs, the hardware. We can buy more server space but we will have to create a new model.” 

Hange raised one eyebrow. “Okay, that’s a good start.” 

“I’ll just have to make a plan, see how much more resources we need and send them off to Erwin.” Levi opened an a blank document and pushed Hange’s seat closer to his. . 

“Wait, I’m curious though…” Hange started. She tapped one finger on her chin. “How does data processing work?”

***

Levi never considered the server room to be anything interesting. It was after all just a conglomeration of headless computers, wires and lights. 

A very important conglomeration. After all, a fire or a faulty pipe would be enough to destroy millions of dollars worth of data. 

He only allowed her one peek, just opening the door wide enough for one eye to see through for just a few seconds long enough for Hange to let out a hushed breath. “Our company handles a lot of applications and some of the servers supporting these applications are housed here,” he explained. 

“And the data?” 

“They’re housed here. Sometimes we use cloud servers too. Sometimes caching servers and everything is processed here then sent to the application." Levi kept his words simple. 

"Billions of points worth of data…" Hange's voice deadened to a whisper.

"It takes time for the data to come, the machines to learn. We started off with manual loading the data, then testing. It took a lot of work to get this much data, enough for the application to work as expected."

"And you continue to get the data I'm guessing."

Levi shrugged. "During quality testing, during actual app usage. As long as someone is using the application and complying to their biometrics being gathered by the application, we get data. That's how all applications work."

Hange hummed. Her mouth curled up into a smile. "So let's say… when I turn on the application, you can collect my data right?"

"The servers are always on, they're always collecting data. It needs the data after all to ring the alarm right?"

"Then how do we check the data?" Hange asked. 

Levi leaned on the door, shutting it with a click. "When we need it, I'll extract your data on my end, then maybe I'll extract mine. To be honest, I don't think they'd give many answers though."

"Serotonin, Oxytocin, Dopamine, Body heat. There's a lot to see from those numbers.” Hange pointed a thumb to her chest. “This is my specialty.” 

"Then I guess we're going to have to make sense of it together."

Hange nodded. "So what are we waiting for? Let’s work on it over lunch.."

"Don't get too hasty. We're gonna have to make a research plan."

***

Hange already had a research plan on hand and she had been working on it for a while. A twenty page document with just a section filled with bullet points and comments. 

There were points Levi had to fill out himself. Still, it wasn't too much work. "You came prepared," he said. 

"What can I say, it's my pet project," Hange scrolled down towards the end of the word document.

"Zeke seemed excited about it, I thought it would have been his at first."

"If this works out, his hospitals will be the first ones in the country or even the world with this type of technology. If it's sure money, it'll be easy to convince him. Besides, I have my ways." Hange gave Levi a sly smile, soon concealed by the cup between her lips. 

She was in a better mood. They were out for lunch in a more seemingly relaxed position and Levi saw opportunity. 

It's better now than never. "How does he feel… about the developer of the application spending a little too much time with you?"

"It's part of the research process and I need to talk to a developer, not an investor.  Besides, he has other investments," Hange said nonchalantly, too nonchalantly that it was almost unsettling.

"With what happened at the beach." Just the quick recall was enough to send blood rushing to his face. He wondered if outwardly he did look a little red. He bit his lip and looked away. From his peripherals, he could see Hange though was just a little too focused on his laptop screen. 

Hange could have spit out her tea. "Are you still thinking about the bridal carry? I didn’t think it was too big of a deal. I could have sworn you were unconscious." 

At first, Levi could have sworn he was unconscious too. Zeke had mentioned it just a little too many times though that Levi was starting to generate his own phantom memories of the incident. 

"Sorry about the CPR though. I probably bruised a few ribs.”

He remembered the CPR just a little too quickly. Or maybe it had been the bruises reminding him. Levi ran his hands over his chest, feeling a slight twinge of pain in response. "Hey, you did it to save my life."

Hange shook her head. "Or maybe I was panicking. It didn’t look like you were breathing but everything was moving too fast and---” She was digressing. 

“What does Zeke think about it?” Levi pressed. 

“Why do you care so much about what Zeke thinks about it?” Hange asked. She had raised her tone, maybe only slightly. It was firm, almost abrasive that Levi regretted it. 

“Zeke is an investor, one of the richest men in the world. I’m spending too much time with his partner. Then back in the beach---”

“Zeke is always busy and honestly, I’m grateful for any other relationships I can make outside this,” Hange argued. “You know, life, building relationships, these things don’t end after marriage. Sure, Zeke and I committed to a relationship but I think I should still be able to find joy in connecting with other people. Marriage isn’t supposed to tie anyone down, stop them from experiencing life. People in relationships are supposed to grow freely together.” 

Maybe Levi had been thinking too hard about it. Or maybe Hange was just a little too laid back. “What do you think about the love alarm ringing?” 

“It happens. Besides, I’m not too worried. Love is a choice,” Hange said. “Commitment is a choice. I think I remember sending you a book about that.”

“So you don’t believe in our product,” Levi challenged. 

“I never said that.” Hange started to stir at her cup, just a little faster. “You can choose to love someone, to commit to them, to be patient with them and to ride out every single problem with them but there is the feeling aspect right? That’s what the love alarm measures, or that’s what I’m suspecting.” 

Levi nodded. 

“So the fact that it rings with strangers or just randomly, shows that it measures attraction right?” 

“Hormones, movements, pace…” Levi listed them out as just another appendix in their dialogue. 

“I wanna understand… where do feelings fit in all this.” Hange put her hands up in defense.. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Zeke, I married him. He’s a good man. And I wanna make whatever it is between us work for a good long time but as someone who works with human psychology, emotions, as someone who’s seen relationships succeed, relationships fail and some that are just so-so. I wanna know, how much of it is emotions, how much of it is volitional commitment. And this type of research, with the love alarm… I think it can teach us things. Emotions are fleeting but there are emotions that stay for a long time and maybe they make being loving and being patient easier---” She slammed her hands back on the table. “Am I making sense here?” 

Levi only realized then he had been biting his straw and had barely gotten anything out. “I’m trying to understand and I think I’m kinda succeeding? GIve me a few more seconds.” He looked away, silently grateful for the good view of the shopping streets from the second floor of the cafe. The cafe was a good balance of loud and soft, filled with whispers and conversations yet still calming and relaxing if he focused on that part in particular. 

“Have you really, never been in a relationship?” Hange asked, seconds or even minutes later. 

“No.” 

“And you told me, you’ve never made the alarm ring for anyone.” 

“In my five years of testing, no,” Levi said. 

“What made it ring with me?” Hange asked. “ Have you ever theorized that?” 

“It could be a bu---” 

“Let’s assume the application is working properly.” Hange pressed. “Do you feel anything different? When you’re with me?” 

Maybe he did. Levi was tempted to look back the moment Hange had ended that question with her tone of voice higher than a second ago. Her eyebrows furrowed, her gaze fixed on his. Levi had to admit, he didn’t want to look away again. 

So he looked away. “I should be asking you that question. Your alarm rang too. Do you feel anything with me that you don’t feel with him?” 

***

They carried the conversation elsewhere, somewhere where the walls didn’t echo, somewhere where there wasn’t anyone within a good ten meters away. Somewhere they could have sworn nobody would be listening. 

It was a silent agreement, consisting of nodding and pulling of hands and it ended with them in the park, a little past noon on a Tuesday. 

“Do you feel any different when you’re with me?” The question was exchanged once again, in a park bench towards the center, after seconds of checking surroundings. It came in variations of it, in stutters, between clearing throats. 

When it came to recovering eloquence, Hange won without a fight. “If I tell you, will you promise to at least try to tell me?”

“Try.” Levi was economical with his words. He made certain though to consolidate all the discomforts of such a pressing topic to that one word. 

Hange took a deep breath. “It’s funny because we just met right? But sometimes, I randomly think of you. When I come home to find the cleaner cleaning out the room, I think ‘Levi would probably like a clean room.’ When I was drinking coffee this morning, I thought of how you didn’t get your tea time and today, I was excited to see you. But I’m excited to see Zeke too… So maybe I’m just lonely because he left so suddenly for a business trip. Were you excited to see me?” 

“Not this morning,” Levi said. That had been easy enough to let slip out. It wasn’t a lie after all. 

“Oh. Then maybe my theory is wrong.” Hange said it  too quickly, her voice much softer. 

That had Levi feeling a tad guilty, at the same time more motivated to find some way to cheer her up. “But I was excited to go to the country club with you and when I saw you with Zeke by the pool, I felt weird.” 

“Weird?” 

“I kept looking, but I wanted to look away…” 

Then there was silence. He was watching Hange and she wasn’t opening her mouth to speak. In the silence, he found reason for a segue. It could have been too sudden or it could have been a natural progression. Levi was easily imagining the scene by the pool as he stared at the empty streets, he thought it natural, and at least appropriate. “You and Zeke really get along huh?”

“Now yes.” 

One syllable, one slip of the tongue had Levi alert.“Now?” 

Hange shook her head. “Now. As in, we get along but at first, we didn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “ Zeke and I have known each other since college and he confessed to me in our senior year before graduation. We dated for a few years after that.”

“You chose to date him, even when you didn’t like him.” 

“Sure he doesn’t give the best first impression, he’s a little extra, if you know what I mean, his head gets a little too big sometimes. My parents and friends said it would be a good idea to just try it out. He was the heir to one of the biggest companies in the country and he isn’t a bad person per se so I opted to try it out and over time, I got to know him, we got closer and he proposed to me a few years ago, I said yes… and here I am, married.”

“Married.” Levi looked pointedly at her. Hange had leaned back and hung her head back, staring at the sky above.  She had said that last part with a little too much breath, and too little voice. 

Hange gave him a wry smile. “Well, I honestly thought it was too early to settle down. I would have wanted to finish my PhD first, maybe travel a little more, meet more people before we get married but we’ve been dating for years, Zeke was insistent and....It seemed like a good choice. What was there to lose? He’s a good man. We were familiar with each other and besides, just because we’re married, doesn’t mean life stops right?” 

“You tell me. I’ve never been married. Some people are asking me when I plan on settling down.” 

“I guess we’re on two ends of the spectrum. You might end up marrying late. I married too early.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with why the love alarm didn’t ring?” 

Hange shrugged. “Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t. The thing is, I don’t want love to be a feeling because just bending over backward to however I’m feeling means that I’m not really free right? I want love to be a choice. I chose to marry Zeke, I chose to commit to him and regardless of what a computer says about love, I wanna be able to decide for myself how I feel, who I love and how I love.” 

***

A few clacks of the keyboard. The click of the mouse. Then the computer whirred to life again, a few swishes among them. 

“So, all I have to do is type out a query here on the server management studio and I’ll be able to extract whatever data we need,” Levi said. “So what email do you use for your love alarm?” 

“Wings of freedom…” Hange didn’t finish. Instead she slipped her phone next to Levi, the screen open to the settings page.  

wingsoffreedom95@jmail.com

Levi stifled a smile. “Don’t you have a more professional sounding email?” 

“I like using pseudo emails for making accounts for weird things.” 

“Nice to know our product counts as a weird account to you,” Levi said.  

“Well, I was testing the product out before I even pitched it to Zeke. I wouldn’t want anyone to have gotten information on me.” 

“Then I guess, that was a good choice.” Levi slammed the enter button and the screen froze for a second before the export box appeared. 

“Yeah, I’d expect a company like yours will collect data.” 

“I’m sure we have a tiny box saying ‘you comply to having your data gathered when you use the product.’”

“You did,” Hange admitted. 

“Then you can’t complain about me having access to the location, the hormone levels, the heart rate and all other pertinent information of wingsoffreedom95@jmail.com.” 

“What email do you use?” 

“I extracted that too,” Levi said. He opened his own application and slipped his phone to Hange. 

“So you are using a pseudonym too.” 

“Of course. I test the product. I need multiple emails,” Levi said. 

“Sure, humanitysstronges1225@jmail.com. You really had to go for something tacky like that?” 

“Well, no one got the username yet,” Levi said. He was quick to digress. “I extracted our biodata from the day we met and when we tested the application. It’s gonna be exported as a data file and just open it using excel or something and do what you need to do.”

“You’re a gem, Levi,” Hange said.  

“Just don’t touch anything else. I’m gonna take a break first,” Levi leaned further back on his chair, grateful for Erwin’s suggestion that he got a reclining chair then. “Maybe I should have gotten a day off. Eld told me, support is quiet today and the release has been ready for a while. Nothing much else to do.” He went for his ebook reader next to his desk and held it above him. 

It flashed open to the latest page. 

The room was silent save for the clack of the keyboard and the whirring of the monitor. It was an odd position to be in but Levi found it was much easier to focus on words when all he had behind the reader was the white ceiling. If he tried a little harder, he could also pretend the clacking of the keyboard wasn’t at all, Hange. 

He was tired. He was exhausted and the ordeal from a few days ago still bubbled at the back of his mouth. Surprisingly, the words had shifted so easily into sceneries, emotions, investment and Levi was thinking too hard about one Mr. Collins and his engagement to the protagonist. 

“Levi!” 

Levi was pulled out of that very comfortable stupor by one rash voice and as he looked up to see Hange smiling, he realized, maybe it had been his own emotional investment at that damn book that got him a little cranky at the wake up call. “What? How long was I reading?” 

“Fifteen minutes at least,” Hange said. “I found something interesting with the data. Did you know, that when the love alarm rang, our hormones were low, our body heat was low, our heart rate wasn’t high. Would you know why it still rang?” 

“I told you, after a certain point we don’t know. It becomes an algorithm. The computer figures it out for itself.” 

“But we’re going to need that data when working with other emotions right?” Hange pressed. “I’m gonna take note of this.” 

“Do you think the love alarm still works as expected?” 

“It could. You told me yourself, billions worth of data points. How could they be wrong right? But this is nice to know, you know. Just looking at the data here, is somehow reassuring.” 

“Reassuring how?” 

Hange shrugged. “Well I’ll do a little of my own testing and will contact you when I come up with anything.” She looked at the clock on her phone. “Then we could schedule a visit to one of Zeke’s hospitals and have a talk with the staff, maybe they could give some feedback on the working plan.” 

“You’re gonna leave?” Levi sat up, putting his ebook reader down on the desk next to him. Hange had started to rifle through her bag and that got him alert.

“Why? You want me to stay a little longer?” 

“I never said that.” 

“You said you were busy with work this morning and now you want me to stay?” Hange challenged. 

“Well it turned out there isn’t much work to do anyway. We get the changes live by the end of this week and we work towards the next release.” Now that Levi did think about it, the job was pretty repetitive and Hange’s pet project had somehow added color to the whole experience. “But you can leave if you want to,” Levi added a second later. Just in case, she did get some sort of hint that he wanted her to stay.

That last sentence did the exact opposite. Exactly how? Levi didn’t have much time to ponder it. By the time, he had even attempted to read through the protagonist’s response to her suitor, Hange had already pulled her chair right next to his, close enough for him to be feeling slightly warmer. Then, warm enough for him to pull away. “What the hell?” 

“I was just wondering what you were reading.” 

“You could have asked. Were you looking?” 

“No.I wasn’t raised to look over people’s shoulders when they read.” Hange said matter-of-factly. “Actually, I was about to ask what you were reading when you pulled away so fast.” 

Levi sighed. “It’s one of the books you sent over in that drive folder.” 

“Ooh, which one? Scott Peck?” 

“I read though that already until I realized the author cheated on his wife.” 

“That doesn’t make his words any more invalid. Love is a choice,” she sang. The amount of times he had heard that since he even read the book maybe even the most melodious tone grating. “So what book is it?”

“The novel, Pride and Prejudice.” 

“Oooh, which part are you in?” 

Maybe Levi had let his guard down just a little. He probably tilted his reader a little bit towards her. Those minute details might have been enough though to have Hange pulling closer towards him, looking over at whatever he had been reading. 

“I’m a slow reader,” Levi explained. 

“Well, it’s a classic. Hange said. This time she was looking at him again. “I swear, I think it shaped my own idea of love. think there’s a lot to learn about love and marriage the way that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy fall in love---” 

“Wait. Stop.” Emotional investment in the book had Levi vulnerable. He only realized it then when he felt his mouth twitch, his eyebrows raise just a little higher. He found himself dropping the reader on the desk in front of him again, a retaliation at that ringing in his ears and the uncomfortable drop of his stomach. Spoilers were surprisingly painful things. “Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth… They end up together?” He managed to let out. 

Hange nodded hesitantly. “Yes, it’s in the title. Mr. Darcy is pride and Elizabeth is prejudice.” 

“You’re talking about the asshole Darcy right? Ten thousand pounds a year asshole Darcy?” 

***

To hell if Hange looked just a little uncomfortable. Maybe more than a little. “I swear I thought everyone knew. Pride and Prejudice is a classic and it’s so talked about that---” 

“I thought she was gonna end up with Mr. Wickham,” Levi admitted. It was difficult to wipe that grimace off his face, to the point that he had worn it almost as a medal while escorting Hange down to the lobby.   

“Hey, I’m sorry…” Hange said. Her attempt to make amends though was grating. 

Levi sighed. “It’s fine. This is a sign anyway, I need to do something more productive with my last few hours of work. I have a few more hours in the office, I’ll probably check on the team first. Is someone picking you up?” 

“I messaged already,” Hange said glumly. “You know, I thought we could hang out a bit first.” 

“Just focus first on getting an appointment with the hospital. To be honest, I really think I do have some work to check on.” 

“Hey, I’ll make up to spoiling you okay?” Hange said. She had tried to curl her lips up to a smile, to widen the grin on her face. It had come out as something wry. 

He found some solace at least in realizing he wasn’t the only one a little too bothered by those spoilers. He could have sworn it had never affected him that way before. But it’s just spoilers. He reminded himself. “I’ll get over it. Just focus on your work.” Still, it was difficult to enunciate words, it was difficult to even look at her. “Who’s picking you up?” 

“Probably a chauffeur,” Hange said. She opened her phone again. The white glare of the screen reflected on Hange’s eyes and Levi was seeing stars in them again. Stars that somehow breathed life into her dead half smile of a while ago. “I can go from here.”

“Wait what?” 

“Zeke’s picking me up at the gate. He said he wanted to try one of the restaurants at the nearby shopping street,” Hange explained.

Levi’s mind was an aggregate of unintelligible emotions. Do you want me to escort you out? Of course you don’t, I practically kicked you out. When there were things he couldn’t understand, maybe the right thing to do was be professional about it. “I’ll wait for your reply on the hospital visit. I’ll do what I can with the working plan and hopefully we could come up with something by Friday.” 

“That would be cool. I’ll make sure to message you.” Hange wasn’t looking at him anymore and Levi had been perceptive enough to notice that her voice slowed just a little, the volume much softer than a second ago. Her mind was elsewhere. 

Then suddenly, she was talking again, her voice a stark contrast from a second ago. “Zeke! I’m so glad to hear from you. Levi and I were just working on the application just now… And we have some great ideas…” 

He never heard what Hange said after that. If he closed his eyes, and focused just a bit, maybe he could have but the ache in his chest was overpowering and he found it most convenient to blame the spoilers at first. 

Hange walking away. Hange mentioning Zeke. Those were moments of clarity. 

Darcy had reminded him a little too much of Zeke. Elizabeth, a little too much of Hange. When he walked back up to the room, back scrolled back to the scene at the ball, the scene with Mr. Wickham, he let out a laugh. 

Fiction was supposed to be comforting and somehow with his own emotional investment in the story, he had hoped for an ending where money didn’t win. And he was scrambling for it long after Hange turned the corner way past the entrance. 

Back in the office, alone with the reader on hand, he thought about it a little more. 

I swear, I think it shaped my own idea of love. think there’s a lot to learn about love and marriage…

“A lot to learn huh?” Love and marriage which ended with a rich abrasive asshole? 

There was definitely a lot to learn. Marriage could be for money. Love could be learned. 

To commit, to love was a choice. 

And Levi didn't need to read the whole book to be reminded of what he had already figured out. 

Levi checked the table of contents, then the tracker at the bottom, he was barely thirty percent into the book, a very long book. Or maybe he was just a slow reader

After a few more minutes of staring, he managed to stumble upon the stone cold conclusion that it was a waste of time. 

He quickly deleted the book, muttering to himself for a second longer that it was a good decision. Then he walked to his team's office, laptop tightly on hand. When he was looking left and right, when he was looking through his workflow tracker again on his phone, he found an out. 

After all, he shouldn't have the time to ponder Hange's own ideas of love when he had an application to maintain and investors to please. 

***

Levi ended up leaving work earlier than expected. It was a total lie to think there was any work needed to be done. Exhaustion clambered up quickly, a special kind of exhaustion at slogging through a day of work less than forty eight hours after being discharged from the hospital. An exhaustion that came with having spent a good hour lying to himself and to his subordinates that they had anything else to do before the release. 

"Any support queries?" Levi asked. It felt more like a formality. 

His subordinates had already started to pack their bags for the day. 

"Nothing too urgent," Petra answered. “Nothing that can be finished in ten minutes either..” 

“Leave it for tomorrow,” Levi said. As much as possible, he preferred to be the only one having to do over time. 

“Sir, do you have any idea when we would start working on that new request by Mr. Jaeger?”

Levi’s answer was calm and straightforward. “We’re currently working on a plan, me and Hange and as soon as we get it approved, we can have a meeting about it.” And exhaustion made acceptance all the more natural. “You’ve all been working hard the past weeks leading up to the release. Stay low or take leaves if you need to, I’ll handle making sure everything goes live on time.” 

Greetings were exchanged after that. Thank yous, sighs of relief and Levi wondered how hard the past few weeks have been, only for the release to have been delayed over Zeke’s request. Somehow, Levi felt some responsibility and guilt over such a ‘bug.’ Whether it was actually a bug or it was his own shortcomings as a human which caused the test to end that way,  whatever musins he had about them, did nothing to placate the guilt as he watched their relieved faces, their much calmer faces.

The next day he woke up to emails, requests for leaves that week which he immediately approved. One week of calm, one week long enough to have it go live that weekend. Then Monday would be the post release sanity check. 

He’d use the week to plan, to coordinate a little more with Hange. He opened his phone to see her number just on top, just like it had usually been recently. He had decided not to open her message until he got to the office. 

Business is business. He thought to himself. The banner had given hints to the message but there weren't many hints to the context of a date time. 

5/15 3:23AM. Check my body heat, serotonin levels, dopamine levels….

Less than a minute later, Levi was on the phone rattling numbers. 

“So they’re high,” Hange said. “High numbers are a sign of love.” 

Levi could have sworn he had heard the smile in her voice. “Why? Did something happen last night?”  

“Zeke and I had a late night. It was the most fun we had in a while.” 

Before Levi even noticed it himself, his mind was racing, asking questions. If Zeke had the love alarm on, would it have rang? And soon, it was clamoring for answers he knew he could never give.

Zeke’s own love alarm wouldn’t be on and even if it wasn’t on, it didn’t send data the same way Hange’s did. All he could do then was settle for speculation. “Maybe there is a bug then Hange. Or maybe there’s something wrong with the data. We’ll turn on your love alarm again when we visit, let’s try it again.” 

The call ended amiably and Levi was a little more sluggish soon after. He lay his phone back on his desk and turned on the love alarm. 

As expected, no hearts appeared. One hand on the keyboard next to him, he typed out a query and pulled his own data. His own hormone levels were much lower than 3am Hange’s. He opened the data Hange had analyzed just yesterday. The hormone levels were still low. 

He clicked on the settings on his application, back at the dashboard then pressed the home button and sighed. “Some developer I am, can’t even figure out how my app works anymore.”

Then he thought something he hadn’t thought in a while. Maybe going for something as complex as love from the start wasn’t such a good idea. 

[antiadvil]

Sparks Fly

Summary: Dan and Phil’s vacation after Vidcon is going well, until a mistake from Phil sets the whole thing up in flames. Rating: PG-13 wc: ~2.2k A/N: written for the @phandomreversebang! Shoutout to my team ( @schnaphan as the talented artist and @catboydan as my incredibly tolerant beta who did not mind me getting the fic done a day before posting) for being incredibly helpful and supportive of the weird direction I decided to take a “sparks fly” prompt in. You can see @schnaphan’s art here.

Read on ao3 or beneath the cut.

Phil was proud of this one. An airbnb cabin, far away enough from the rest of the world that they would get some space to themselves for once, but close enough to civilization that it had broadband internet. The perfect place to wind down together after Vidcon. He stretched his feet out onto the glossy wooden coffee table and turned another page, trying to focus on his book.

“Ah!” Dan jumped back a bit as he entered the living room. “Did we really need to keep the cutout?”

“It’s funny,” Phil insisted. He wasn’t sure what exactly had inspired him to stuff the cardboard cutout of Dan into their suitcases when the man from the convention asked if they wanted to keep it, but it annoyed Dan to see a replica of himself stand in the cabin’s living room, so stand it did.

“It keeps scaring the shit out of me.” Dan glared at it, somewhat resentfully.

“Even better.” Phil attempted a wink.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Just wanted to say I’m tired. Going to bed.”

Phil looked up from his book, trying to suppress his disappointment. “So early?”

“Tired.” Dan leaned over the back of the sofa to try to reach Phil’s face, reaching out with his hands to pull him closer when Phil jokingly pulled away.

“Good night,” Dan said, kissing Phil on the forehead, and then on both cheeks when he pouted. “Do your best to survive without me. You’ll have your book to keep you company. Very intellectual.”

Phil rolled his eyes, turning back to his (somewhat trashy) horror novel. “Good night. Sleep well.” It was good that Dan was going to bed early, probably, he hadn’t been sleeping well recently. Hopefully he’d be able to catch up on some sleep tonight and feel better.

The cottage was quieter than Phil expected with Dan in bed in the other room. It was a bit eerie, so far away from the rest of the world, alone in the woods, and Phil found scenes from the axe murderer horror novel in his hand flitting through his head a bit more vividly than he would have liked.

He needed something to calm him down, ground him, and he remembered from the advice he had absorbed through Dan’s therapist. A scented candle, maybe? It would be cozy and warm, and you never saw scented candles in books about axe murderers. There were scented candles already provided on the coffee table, he’d just have to find the matches.

There were probably some in the kitchen. He stood up and moved to the kitchen, searching the cabinet until he found the matches. He struck one, absentmindedly, before remembering the candle was in the other room. The flame was already flickering down—he didn’t have long to get there before it burnt out.

His resolve strengthening him, he summoned extra reserves of strength from deep within him to start a sprint back towards the living room. He was just rounding the corner when he noticed a human figure looming ahead of him. “Ah!” He jumped slightly before realizing it was just the cutout. God, Dan was right. It was terrifying. He looked for the candle, then paused. The match. Where was the match?

A flickering, growing glow in the corner of his eye answered his question. “Oh fuck,” Phil whispered. “Oh fuck, DAN, oh fuck-” he ran towards their room. “DAN,” he shouted again, swinging the door open.

Dan was sitting up in bed, massaging his head. “What the fuck did you do, Phil?”

“Fire,” Phil managed, “fire!”

He was starting to smell the smoke. Dan must’ve too, because his eyes widened. “Phil, you idiot, we can’t get out this way.”

Dan was sort of right, he supposed, the living room was between their bedroom and both the front and back doors, and a large chunk of it was on fire right now.

“You idiot, you should’ve gotten out.” Dan sounded scared now.

Phil wished he could say he had gone back out of some deep seated need to save Dan, but if he was being honest, it was just instinct at this point to run for Dan every time he made a mess. “It’s fine,” he said, looking around for an exit. The window. Phil silently thanked his past self for booking an Airbnb with only one story.

Dan’s eyes followed Phil’s gaze, and he must’ve had the same thought, because he grabbed Phil’s arm, dragging him over to the window and wrenching it open. “The screen-” Phil said, before Dan let go of his hand to push at it until the screen came loose, falling onto the ground on the other side of the window.

“Come on,” Dan said, swinging a leg over the side. He hopped awkwardly down, dragging his other leg after him. “Come on.”

Phil’s legs seemed to seize up, but with enough of Dan’s tugging he made it over the windowsill, his foot catching and sending him tumbling into the sweetly scented, but somewhat thorny, flowerbed. “Ow,” he muttered, looking at the scratches running their way down his long, pale arms. He found himself staring at them, transfixed, as a single drop of blood welled up and trickled down his arm.

Dan pulled at his arm again. “Phil, move-”

Phil stumbled to his feet and out of the flowerbed, following Dan until they were about 20 feet away from the house, just where the grass turned into woods. Oh god, Phil could just see the headlines about how two British idiots were the cause of the latest California wildfire—

“Call 911,” Dan said, sounding just a little less frantic now that they were out of the house.

Phil patted his pockets, looking for his phone. He found a phone-shaped lump in the left one, and pulled it out, his hands shaking as he tried to pull up the phone icon and type in the numbers. It took him a couple of tries, but he finally got the number in right.

A woman’s cool voice sounded from Phil’s phone speakers. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“Right! Emergency. I’m here with my—um—friend,” Phil said awkwardly. “We’re on vacation, from the UK, well, vacation after a convention—you don’t care about visas, do you?” he said, suddenly remembering Dan’s Bahamas fiasco from a few years ago.

Dan glared at him. “The fire,” he prodded.

“Right!” Phil said. “My house is on fire.”

“Do you have an address?” the woman on the other end asked in the calmest voice Phil had ever heard.

“Address,” Phil motioned to Dan with a gesture he hoped clearly communicated, “get me the address for this airbnb,” but Dan didn’t seem to understand. He just looked confused.

“What?”

“What’s the address of this place?”

“Oh!” Dan said, digging out his phone (Phil was suddenly grateful that neither of them could be separated from their phones for long enough to lose them in an emergency). He stared at his screen anxiously, as if he was waiting for something to load.

When it finally did, he didn’t even read it out loud, just shoved the email in front of Phil’s face so he could read it to the dispatcher.

“Alright, sir, help is on the way,” the woman on the phone said. “Are you and your friend a safe distance from the house?”

Phil looked around. “Um, I think so.”

“Perfect. And there’s no one else in the building? Any pets?”

“No. Just us.”

“We’ll be sending an ambulance around just to check that everyone is alright, just so you know.”

Phil hoped he wouldn’t be charged for that. He missed the NHS. “Okay.”

“I’m just going to need you to sit tight until then, okay? Now, can you answer a few questions about the fire?”

She asked a few vague questions about how the fire started, and Phil was grateful that he didn’t have to actually explain what happened, just say it was an accident. Her questions seemed more designed to keep him on the line and calm him down until the fire truck came than to get any actual answers about the fire from him. Phil tried not to look too hard at the growing flames, glowing in the window.

After a few minutes, he could hear sirens in the distance, and a fire truck and ambulance pulled up in his driveway. A few figures in bulky suits hopped out of the truck, immediately getting to work unrolling a hose and aiming it towards the windows of the living room, where Phil could see flames flickering.

“Right,” a very tall man in firefighter gear strode over to them. “I just have a few questions about how the fire started. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help?”

“You should probably talk to Phil about that, I have to make a few calls,” Dan said, ducking away and patting Phil’s hand before leaving him alone to face his interrogation.

“Yeah,” Phil gulped. “I was there.” He forced himself to look up to make eye contact with the firefighter.

“Right,” the man said, writing something in a notepad. “You saw it start?”

“Yes,” Phil said. “I, uh, was carrying a match.”

The man raised an eyebrow and wrote something down again. “You were carrying a match,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Phil said, finally breaking eye contact. “I was carrying a lit match and I dropped it.”

“Hmmm.” Some more writing. “Why’d you drop it?”

“Well, um, me and my-” Phil hesitated for just a second. “Me and my friend kept this cardboard cutout from this convention we went to, and when I walked back into the living room it startled me and I dropped it.” He didn’t dare look up and risk making eye contact again, but even the other man’s pen scribbling seemed judgemental.

“Right. So then something caught on fire from that?”

“I think it was the carpet. I’m not sure.”

“Well,” the man said, clearing his throat. “You and your friend are lucky you’re safe. I hope you’ve learned to be more careful with matches next time.”

“I have. Sir.” Phil cringed inwardly, hoping it didn’t show on his face. Sir? Was he a child being scolded at school?

The firefighter seemed to accept Phil’s assurance, though, nodding once before turning away and moving back to the truck, just as Dan emerged from the ambulance and jogged over.

“Your turn.” Dan nodded towards the ambulance.

Phil sighed. At least the paramedics probably wouldn’t ask him any questions about how he had managed to start a house fire.

When Phil’s exam was done and he got out of the ambulance, Dan was waiting for him. “I found us a hotel,” he said.

“I love you,” Phil said.

“As you should.”

“What about our stuff?” Phil asked, anxious.

“They let me go in to get our suitcases. Nothing else, though I’m not sure I’d be able to find anything else if I was allowed to try. The living room looked pretty bad.”

They hadn’t gotten a chance to unpack much yet. Just having their suitcases should be fine, though Phil missed his horror novel already. But still, Phil groaned. “Are we going to be in trouble with the Airbnb host?”

“Nope,” Dan said. “I called already, they have insurance for idiots like us.” He smiled as he said it. Phil couldn’t help but appreciate that he had lumped the two of them together, as if this whole mess hadn’t been entirely Phil’s fault. “We’re not getting our money back, though.”

Phil sighed. “Understandable.” It was probably the best outcome he could ask for, especially with he and Dan safe… and how expensive US medical bills could get. “How far is the hotel?”

“About half an hour.” Phil opened his mouth, but Dan cut him off. “I’ll drive. You’ve caused enough damage for today.”

He was smiling, just teasing, but Phil couldn’t help the flush of shame that came over him anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Dan threw an arm around Phil’s back and pulled him closer. “I know,” he whispered. “Now come on. Let’s get out of here and get some rest.”

The hotel room wasn’t as nice as their cabin had been. It was on the smaller side, and the carpet was scratchy and gray. The mattress on the equally gray bed was a bit lumpy, but Phil couldn’t bring himself to care as he dragged himself into it.

Dan collapsed next to him. “How is it that I’m the one functional in an emergency?” he asked. “I’m the one crippled by existential despair all the time.”

“I don’t know,” Phil confessed, wringing his hands. “I just… I panicked.”

“I know,” Dan sighed, patting Phil’s face fondly.

“Nothing like a near death experience to solidify a relationship, though, right?” Phil joked weakly.

Dan patted his face again, a bit more clumsily. “Nothing like a near death experience to make me tired.”

He lapsed into silence then, and Phil listened to him fall asleep, counting every breath, matching them with his own until his eyes drifted closed and he fell into a dark, dreamless sleep where, finally, he could no longer smell the wood smoke.

[fandomhorde]

Can you imagine if Maeve was a guy? Like.

Maeve is now uhh Maeverick and (I may not correctly remember that plotline bc uh I don't like women getting fridged for manpain) Spencer's trying to figure out what's wrong with his headaches, and all the older professionals he goes to either a) don't take him seriously, b) see his family history and say that it's schizophrenia and call it a day, c) are offended by his sass/competence/expertise/communication style, d) won't answer his questions about treatment pros & cons so he won't work with them, e) all of the above, so

Spencer seeks out a young medical professional because he thinks he might have a better chance of someone young listening to him and working with him. He finds a doctor who did his schooling faster than average, implying he's intelligent and might further be relatable, and Dr. M. Donovan, geneticist, does not disappoint. Due to Reid living and working in Virginia/D.C., and Donovan living and working in Massuchusetts, they correspond over email primarily, phonecall periodically, and video call occasionally.

He carefully listens to Spencer's theories for his headaches, carefully examines Spencer's MRI scans, takes Spencer's medical family history into account without making instant assumptions, answers all of Spencer's questions or lets Spencer know when he doesn't know (yet) (frequently he'll research until he has the answer; the first time spencer's coming back from a case and opens his tablet to find an email titled 'Eureka!' and an answer, Spencer's glad everyone's asleep because he can't stop grinning.)

M. Donovan recommends that Spencer try to treat his symptoms as they try to figure out if it's an uncommon genetic condition: after trying out various exercise/entertainment/enrichment options, they find a good selection of activities that chill out Spencer's brain when he's overwhelmed or stressed; it's stuff like turning on instrumental music and doing katas or tai-chi before and after playing Animal Crossings, Stardew Valley, or Minecraft on some days and knitting on other days - Spencer finds out that he really likes knitting complicated socks and rapidly expands his mismatched sock collection; M. Donovan is also a knitter and they have several lengthy email chains about yarn types and needle sizes and knitting methods. Spencer definitely finds himself deliberating about whether or not he could knit M. Donovan a pair of socks without making it weird.

He also helps Spencer set up a sleep routine (weighted blankets, colder temperatures in the apartment, a noise maker, and keeping a 'write it out as soon as you wake up' journal by the bedside help with the stress related nightmares, which massively improves his quality of sleep and his willingness to go to sleep, whaddya know) as well as recommending him to someone who helps him figure out meal plans to figure out if his diet is affecting him adversely.

He recommends various support groups since Spencer feels that the one-on-one therapy he's in isn't everything he needs. (M Donovan also researches other therapists for ones that might get along with Spencer better; Spencer ends up doing a trial session with a few, but sticks with the one he found bc it's working for him). Spencer is startled when he sees a queer support group on this list, but goes without mentioning it to anyone. Spencer stands outside the building deliberating for a long while before a friendly lesbian sticks her head out the door and compliments his socks, inviting him in, and when someone quotes The Once and Future King in the group, he decides he's coming back the next week. He also finds a support group that's specifically a recovering addicts knitting group and it's a really good place for him.

With the stress outlets, meal changes, sleep routine and support groups, Spencer finds the headaches few and far between, usually after stressful cases, and he asks M. Donovan if it really could just be psychosomatic/stress-induced. M. Donovan says that that's a possibility, although if any other inexplicable/distressing symptoms begin, he wants to be informed, and they conclude their medical correspondence.

But Spencer has Maeverick's personal email from a mix-up where Maeverick was trying to send Spencer a specific file over his phone and shared it to the wrong email app, and like two weeks after their medical correspondence, he sends a nervous email like 'hey, it's Dr Reid, since I'm no longer your patient, can I ask what sock size you are?' and he gets a call like two minutes later and Maeverick asks if one of Spencer's teammates got into his email to ask about socks, and Spencer snorts and says that even if they could crack his passwords, he hasn't come out to them so they wouldn't send prank emails to the guys in his contacts, and then realizing about 0.2 seconds later that he just admitted to a) not being straight and more pressingly, b) liking Maeverick Donovan in a nonheterosexual way, and he's just frozen when Maev huffs out a tiny laugh like "oh good, I was worried I was crushing on yet another straight guy," and wow have I written a lot for this but uh, idk, this is a kinda cute concept

[gloryofluv]

Order Up! (Coffee Shop AU) Chapter 10

Oh, Alex, you always find commonality in kindred spirits! The broken tend to look for each other, don't they? (picture brought you by my awesome brain fucking around with filter on a stock photo)

Previous Chapter

Alex was standing outside on her break on the phone and nearly growling as she stood by her car. Of all the frustrating, stupid fucking things. She rolled her neck. This was truly ridiculous. Routine. That’s all she wanted. Applicable routine!

The call came off hold. “Miss, I just spoke to the doctor. She said unless you schedule an appointment, we can’t refill your medication.”

“What do you mean? I’ve been taking these for years?” Alex snapped and shifted her hips. “Why? This is the first time I’ve had to come in. She knows how I feel about doctor’s offices. We’ve always done tele appointments when it’s needed.”

“Miss, I’m sorry, but you haven’t had a physical in several years, and our policies are changing. We have to be sure everything is working together well. I’m sure you’ve received your email or letter,” the receptionist told her.

“Ok, but I’m out of it this weekend. I have severe ADHD. It’s in my file. Can’t she fill it for just the weekend? I have tons of things to do, and I doubt you make evening appointments,” Alex breathed and rolled her neck. This wasn’t what she liked. She definitely didn’t like someone poking at her and saying what was wrong with her.

“We have an appointment available at three tomorrow if that’s late enough,” the receptionist declared.

“Do you have a Friday morning available?” Alex questioned while tightening her jaw.

“No, we have a two o’clock on Friday,” She responded.

“Okay, do you have a morning appointment tomorrow?” she asked while running her fingers on her driver’s door. Alex was bouncing on her feet and swishing her hips. She despised this.

“The earliest we have is ten o’clock.”

Alex breathed and rocked her head. “That works. Does she need me to fast so we can do blood work?”

“Yes, that would be best. She’ll want to do a full workup. We can schedule a pap at the time if you like.”

Alex grimaced and breathed. “Yes, fine. Whatever it takes not to have to come in for a while.”

“I understand completely, Miss. I don’t know anyone who likes clinical visits,” the receptionist giggled.

Alex smiled and rocked her head. “Okay, tomorrow at ten. Got it. Should I bring in my other medication?”

“Ah, yes, please. It will make the visit swifter.”

“Thank you so much. I apologize for my frustration,” Alex murmured.

“Of course, we shall see you tomorrow.”

Alex hung up and rolled her neck again. “I hate this. Ridiculous unneeded shit.”

“I never liked doctor visits myself.”

Alex pivoted and blushed. Diavolo was standing there smoking some sort of vaporizer. “Hello, Diavolo. How are you today?”

Daddy Diavolo was in a pinstripe suit and looking sharp. What? Dammit, Jordan and his wicked nicknames for people. Alex licked her lips and ran her thumb over her fingernails.

He puffed and smiled while the cloud left his lips. “I’m doing pretty well. Barbatos went to snag us drinks while we were in the area. Business prattle irritates me occasionally. I needed to see a friendly face.”

Alex relaxed against her car and smiled. “That’s great that you at least are getting a caffeine bump. I have a few more minutes on my break if you want to chat.”

He tilted his head and shifted on his frame. “Lucifer told me you were going to rent a room from him. I think that’s fabulous.”

The pillow talk between them must be oddly stiff. Oh, god. What the fuck was wrong with her today. Alex had to shake off the image and rubbed the side of her neck. “Yes, it makes sense. I’m going to buy Jordan’s family home for them. I’ll find someplace to rent after the sale. It’s all in the works. Thank you for the stellar recommendation for the agent.”

Diavolo took the device to his mouth as he smiled and the vapor poured from his nose. “You’re welcome, but it’s quite deserving. That’s quite intelligent and loyal. Oh, what did the ocean say to the beach?”

Alex’s smile grew. “What did it say?”

“Nothing,” Diavolo snorted and then smiled. “It just waved,” he chuckled and waved his free hand before sliding it in his pocket.

Alex giggled and shook her head. “That’s ridiculously good.”

Diavolo laughed and nodded. “I thought so too! How do you feel about traveling?”

Alex shrugged her shoulders. “I always wanted to, but I didn’t get the chance when my parents died.”

“I, unfortunately, can’t say the same,” Diavolo shook his head. “When my father died, I visited three different countries to meet the regional operators in a week. I didn’t go very many places when I was younger because he was always working or traveling for business. However, I understand his plight now. Sometimes I just want to be home.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” Alex nodded.

Diavolo smirked and stepped toward her. “I know how you feel about your medication. It’s funny how one little pill eases the worst symptoms, huh? Science. Who would have thought?” he laughed.

“Yeah,” Alex puffed and shook her head. “I’d be more of a mess without it. I think I do alright now, though my doctor keeps telling me I need to see a therapist.”

He gestured to her. “Do you suffer from insomnia as well? What about stimming?”

Alex laughed and nodded. “I often play with my apron at work. At home, I mess with my hair more. I have plenty of object blindness, so that kind of helps living with all my parents’ things.”

“Masking?” Diavolo questioned.

Alex rocked her head. “All the time. Jordan calls it my alter ego. He thinks it’s some sort of superpower that I perfected with his encouragement.”

“I have a selection of 8D music I’ll send you for focus,” Diavolo nodded. “If you have any recommendations, I’m open to seeing. I’m always trying to explore new avenues.”

“That’s the dopamine search,” Alex laughed and nodded.

Diavolo let out a stream of laughter and rocked his head. “Yes, it certainly is, isn’t it, Alex.”

Alex checked her phone and breathed. “I have to go back inside.”

Diavolo gasped and held up his finger. “Here, I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” He dug in his breast pocket and handed her a small pin of a red devil smirking. “I’ve noticed you wear them on your hat, and I quite like that. My contribution,” Diavolo nodded.

She beamed and pressed her fist to her chest as she held it. “Thank you, Diavolo.”

“I will be texting you later when we’ll schedule our little date for your dress if that’s alright. If you want, I can email you instead of for formality,” He said while tilting his head.

“Text is fine. I just hate talking on the phone,” Alex giggled.

“Me too,” Diavolo groaned and grinned.

Alex laughed and shrugged. “I suppose we all have our mountains to climb.”

“Indeed. Enjoy the rest of your day, Alex. You added a bit of pep in my step.”

“Same, thank you,” she beamed and bowed her head before walking toward the cafe.

Well, you learn something every day. Diavolo, CEO and superpower in the world had ADHD? Well, that explains the goofy persona. That actually made Alex feel ten times better. She passed Barbatos and waved. He nodded at her with a small smile, and she skipped behind the counter.

Jordan arched his eyebrow as she snatched up her apron. “What did Daddy want today?”

Alex glanced out at him, taking another puff before meeting Barbatos in the parking lot with a bouncy stride. “To chat,” she settled with as she washed her hand at the sink.

“Interesting,” Jordan hummed.

Alex pocketed the pin and nodded. “Completely.”

“And did Daddy give you something special?” Jordan teased with an arched eyebrow.

“Can you stop with this? It’s really screwing me up, J,” Alex puffed with red cheeks. “I swear it. I’m going to accidentally call him that, and then I’ll be fired for sure.”

“Or taken to dinner,” Jordan laughed and shook his head. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop, for now. When are you moving in with the crazy terrors of the seven plagues?”

“This weekend,” Alex expressed as she went to the pastry case and began organizing what was in there with tongs. “Hey, Jordan, I have a weird question.”

“Shoot, babe,” he said while changing out the coffee and brewing a fresh batch.

“Do you think it’s weird for me not to date?”

“Yes, hun, I do, but don’t listen to Asmo. He’s surface energy until you get to know him. Any progress with Mr. Black Coffee?” Jordan asked.

Alex exhaled and shook her head. “I recently found out he’s unavailable.”

“Oh, that is a pity,” Jordan scrunched his nose. “I was really rooting for that. He seemed so into you.”

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled over at him. “I wasn’t that invested in it.”

“How about Sugar-free Vanilla?” Jordan asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I shouldn’t engage in any sort of drinks that I’m going to be in proximity to anyway,” Alex voiced as she set out more scones in the case.

“I suppose,” Jordan laughed as he leaned on the counter. “Oh, looky here. Here comes trouble . Sin never looked so tasty. If that boy were ever into experimenting, I’d be there in a hot second for that meal.”

Alex glanced at the door to see Beelzebub climb out of his car and pull on his shirt while Belphegor and Mammon soon joined. They all threw on shirts, and Alex had to scowl at that. What the hell did they do that they were shirtless?

The trio walked into the cafe, sweat still beading on their faces. Alex moved to her register and beamed. “Hey, boys. What have you been up to?”

Beel grinned as he wiped his forehead with his arm. “Alex, we have something exciting to tell you.”

“Yeah, but let me!” Mammon puffed and rolled his neck. “Ya, see, it was my idea, so I get to tell ya how great I am!”

“Okay, I’m listening,” Alex nodded.

“We broke into your house and cleaned out your backyard,” Belphegor snorted.

Mammon growled and shoved him. “I wanted to tell her. Why ya gotta be such a dick?”

“Oops,” Belphie smirked.

“But we found something,” Beel added.

“Yeah, we did,” Mammon snapped. “I did. I found it.”

“And then you tried to pocket it for money,” Belphie rolled his eyes.

“I did not!” Mammon huffed.

“Okay, guys, calm down. What did you find as you did your weird B&E? I’m not going to even go into how many people would be asking for you to break in and do the same.” Alex laughed as she shifted on her feet.

Beel dug in his jeans and produced a necklace with wings in the shape of a heart and a topaz. It was delicate, small, and a little dirty. “Oh!” Alex gasped. “That was my grandma’s from when she was little. Where was it?”

“In a tin box in the shed. It looks like someone put it in there to do yard work,” Belphie shrugged.

Beel offered it to Alex, and she beamed. “Thanks, you guys. My mom used to garden and must have set it in there when she had to turn the soil.”

“So, uh, that’s like really important,” Mammon hummed as he fixed his glasses. “Which means we did ya good.”

“Yes,” Alex beamed and placed the necklace in her pants pocket.

“So, we’re gonna wait for you,” Mammon smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest in a lean.

She shrugged and leaned on the POS screen. “How about all of you get a refreshing drink, and I’ll be done in just over an hour.”

They all were nodding, and she imputed their orders. She enjoyed their little bickering back and forth before they sat down with food and drinks. Jordan approached and leaned on her shoulder. “Doesn’t hurt to have weird friends, does it?” He whispered.

“No, I’m starting to see that,” she beamed as she glanced at him.

“Babe, I’ll never leave you, but I just want you to be loved, okay? You deserve it. I did plenty of checking when I hung out with Leviathan. They’re good guys.”

“I see that,” she voiced. “Thank you for being my misfit brother, Jordan.”

“Of course, Alex. You’re my little sister. Always,” He chuckled and kissed her hat before walking back over to the espresso machines.

@rsmrymnt-tea@otome-scribbles

[generalfoolish]

Feel The Heat

Part Two: Something More

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Rating: 18+ (b/c minors shouldn't lurk, it is illegal and not polite.) But this is big fluff, just more exposition and pining and world building. I do curse, so there's that.

Word Count: 4k+

Summary: June and Frankie are big idiots, and they keep bumping into each other in the wildest of places. Again, and I can't overstate this: they’re both MASSIVE idiots.

A/N: Hey babes! This is going a little slower bc I want to give more with each update, I normally keep around 1K and these are little beasts. But I'm excited with the story, some threads are exposing themselves, and there will be more Frankie X OC time in the next part. For now, enjoy this little taste of yearning and pining and overthinking and general angst over meeting a cute new somebody. 💕

Masterlist | Part One | Part Three

June checked her phone as she stirred the pot, and groaned at the email count. More than half were parents who “couldn’t” make the conference, and the rest were from her principal wanting to reiterate the importance of those meetings. She dropped the phone back to the counter, and focused on her pot. She had googled what to do with Brandywines, and had decided on a slowly simmered tomato sauce. It paired beautifully with the fresh garlic and basil she had picked up, and the whole house smelled like an Italian restaurant.

This was her favorite way to use up produce in the summer. She spent hours simmering and canning, and got to enjoy the fruits of her labor in the dead of winter. She knew she could easily gift the sauce made from those beautiful tomatoes, and she had every intention of doing so.

Sundays passed so quickly, she hardly had time to dwell on the farmer, but when she caught a whiff of her stove she had to find something to do. She worked through the emails, sending reminders that the conferences were mandatory, and that if the parents couldn’t make it during the week before or after school, she was available to meet online. She fought the temptation to open her weekends. She was working on work boundaries with her therapist.

June had an easier time fighting off thoughts of the farmer as the day waned on, and she thought, foolishly, that she could just forget the brown eyed grump she had met.

--

Frankie was having a hard time focusing on anything. Liv was a bundle of energy, and he tried not to snap at her. He had her come help him in the garden, but he ended up sending her to dig for worms after she trampled another vine.

“Ew! Worms are gross.” She argued.

“I know, but didn’t you want to go fishing? Fish eat worms, it’s how we can get them out of the water.” He explained, carefully. She considered him, then bounded off, calling out to the worms. He chuckled watching her, and went back to pulling weeds. With a moment of quiet, his mind flitted back to the woman. He couldn’t help it. He had dreamt of her. She was lounging in the back of his mind, waiting for him to stumble into the memory. Liv was a good distraction, but she only held the woman at bay for so long. He grumbled and wiped his brow. He decided to give it up for now, the woman and the weeding.

“Princess, I think we have some hotdogs. Let’s try those.” He called over to Liv, who excitedly left behind her freshly dug hole.

“Daddy, Mrs. Becka wanted me to remind you about the school stuff.” Liv told him, grabbing his hand as they walked. He exhaled sharply. He had forgotten the meetings. He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through Becka’s texts. She had sent him the teacher’s number at some point, he knew, the trouble was finding it. Finally, he clicked the blue hyper-linked number and called it. Liv ran inside ahead of him, looking for the hot dogs, and he waited at the door as the phone rang.

“Hello?” Ms. Collins answered breathlessly, and he cleared his throat.

“Ms. Collins? It’s Olivia Morales’ dad, calling about the meeting?” He heard something clatter on the other end. “Is now an okay time?”

“Yes, sorry, Mr. Morales, I was just...it doesn’t matter. My schedule is a little tight, when did you have in mind?”

“Something early, maybe before drop-off?”

“Sure, uhm, let me check my calendar,” She sounded distant, he thought, probably on speaker. “Yeah, Tuesday morning? I know that’s quick, it is all I have though.”

“Yeah, I can be there. Like 7am?”

“Yes, that’s great. See you then.” The line disconnected and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d heard her voice before. He rolled his eyes at himself, of course he had. She was his daughter’s teacher. As if on cue, Liv ran out with a hot dog. He smiled brightly and ruffled her hair.

“‘Kay, kiddo, let’s go catch some fish.” She grinned at him brightly, showing off the hole her first lost tooth had made. His heart caught as he realized she was growing up so fast.

--

“Monday’s really are the worst.” June laughed. She had her mom on the phone, connected through Bluetooth. “I’m just leaving the school now!”

“I just don’t see why you’re having to set these meetings up now. The kids have hardly been in school for a couple of weeks.” June sighed as she merged on the highway to head home.

“I know, it's just something my district does. The hard part is wrangling parents.”

“Well, if you had any children, you’d know how much they require of you.” June rolled her eyes and exhaled through her nose. Her mom was always quick to bring up her lack of a partner and children. Not that June didn’t want those things, they just haven't panned out for her yet.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m sure you’re right.” She acquiesced, knowing the argument wasn’t worth the effort.

“Have you met anyone? You’re only getting older, you know.”

“Thanks Mom. Uh, I have a date tomorrow night, actually.”

“Well, what’s his name, do I know him? What does he do for work?” June rolled her eyes, and wondered why she had answered the call.

“I don’t know anything about him. It’s a blind date.”

“Not even a name?” June bit her lip, debating telling her Mom the nickname.

“He’s ex-Army, goes by Fish. That’s all I know. Oh, and he’s single. A new teacher sat it up for me.” June explained, hoping her Mom wouldn’t have much to say.

“Fish? Oh, wow. Terrence really messed you up, huh.”

“I’m getting a call from a parent, I’ll talk to you later.” June lied, ending the call. Terrence had really messed her up. Not that that was of any importance to her dating life, or this blind date’s name. She sighed hard as she pulled into her driveway.

“Monday’s really are the worst.” She told the empty space of her car. She grabbed her bag and hurried inside. It had been a long day, and she was ready to polish off her bottle of wine from the night before. She walked in and let her bag drop to the floor, and crossed to the staircase. She groaned as she climbed the stairs. She was exhausted and still had a ton left to do.

June stripped quickly and threw on her yard work clothes. She stopped by the kitchen and poured some wine into a cup with a lid, before making her way outside. The day before she had started a small garden, and she was determined to make something grow out of it. She had no idea what she was doing, though. The wine wasn’t really helping either.

She had been short with a few parents while she was tending the fragile plants. It was a little late in the season to try and start anything, but she had picked up some discount plants that she wanted to help limp along for a little longer. She hoped she hadn’t put any of the parents off, and tried to remember who all had called.

June wiped her forehead with her gloved hand and tried to sort them out. Steven’s mom, Cynthia, was meeting her during lunch. That would be short, thankfully. Steven was a good kid, quiet. Graham and Ginger’s grandma was coming Wednesday afternoon, the parents were out of the country for something. Mia’s dad was going to call during the planning period. Ashley’s mom was coming Tuesday afternoon. And Olivia’s dad was coming Tuesday morning. June felt her shoulders sag, and she drained her wine. That wasn’t even half of the parents left.

She gave up on the garden and stalked inside. She wanted to scare up something for dinner, but didn’t really feel like making anything. She gave in and called the local Indian place. They knew her order, and said they’d be there soon. She grimaced, wondering how much money she had spent on Vindaloo over the years, and decided not to think about it. She had enough time to slip in the shower to wash the sweat off, before the delivery guy knocked on her door. She tipped him generously, and sat down on the couch.

June clicked the tv on and scrolled through her watch list. She settled on some mind-numbing detective show, and ate half of the curry. She put the rest away, and grabbed her bag by the door. The bag was a mess, but she managed to find her red pen and the papers that needed grading, and she settled back in.

Soon, the mindless task paired with a full stomach and the wine had her falling into a deep sleep.

--

Frankie was pissed. He was giving up the best time of the day for harvesting to meet with Liv’s teacher, and Ms. Collins couldn’t be bothered to show up. His thoughts went back to the phone call the day before, and he gritted his teeth as he realized she had put him off twice. Over something she had wanted to set up. He’d gotten the bundles of paper she had sent home on it. Yet, here he was, and she was nowhere to be found. He pulled his phone out, and considered punching in her number, but stopped himself.

Frankie had to exhale deeply four times before he could lay his phone down. He had gotten here a little early, and it was just now 7 am, and he didn’t have a set schedule. Liv was with Ashley, Becka had insisted on taking them to drop off so he could have plenty of time with Ms. Collins. Not that it mattered now, he thought, dryly. At ten past, he pulled his phone back out, and brought her name up. He was angry again, and had every intention of calling. But before he could press her name, the door swung open, and his heart dropped.

~~

June woke with a start. The birds were singing outside, the light was all wrong, and she was on the couch. Shit, she thought, jumping up. Shit, shit, shit. She had overslept. She hurried up the stairs and threw on something presentable, and didn’t even check herself in the mirror. She could do her makeup in the class. She grabbed up the half graded papers and shoved them in her bag, and ran out the door. She dumped everything in the passenger seat and drove much faster than usual. She was about halfway to the school when she realized she was meeting a student’s parent this morning. She hadn’t had any coffee, and her brain was starting to slow down from the adrenaline of being late, and she could not remember who she was meeting. She parked, and popped her vanity mirror down and grimaced. She looked like she was having a bad morning. She decided to throw her hair up in a messy bun, and grabbed the mess up from her passenger seat.

She basically ran into the building, her flats ricocheting sound off the concrete walls. She swung her door open, apologies already falling from her lips, when she looked at the parent. The apologies died on her lips, and her mouth fell open.

“You?” She asked, dumbly. “Frankie?” He looked like he had seen a ghost, a bitchy ghost, she grimaced.

“You?” He stood now, and started to move to her.

“Uhm, you can’t be here. I’m meeting a student’s parent, and how’d you even know where to find me?” She started rambling, but when the words were out she realized how stupid they were. “Oh my god, you’re the parent?” She barked out a laugh, and dumped her bag on her desk. He grinned, and wiped the back of his neck.

“Liv’s dad. I’m Frankie Morales.” He told her, faltering from shaking her hand.

“Perfect. I’m Juniper Collins, you can call me June, or Ms. Collins, whatever you prefer. I’m sorry I’m late, I...I started a garden yesterday and wore myself out. That’s what I was doing when we spoke on the phone,” She told him, laughing. June had only tried gardening because she wanted a common foot with him. She didn’t want to tell him that yet, though. “Anyway, let’s get to Liv. Liv is a great girl, Mr. Morales.”

“Frankie.” He interrupted, with a small smile.

“Okay, Frankie. Look, Liv is great, she really is. She struggles in class sometimes, though. She is smart as hell, but she seems to struggle. I wanted to give you some information about ADD or ADHD. It presents differently in girls, and is often overlooked. I haven’t known her long, obviously, but I actually was diagnosed much later in life, and I remember doing some of the things she’s doing. Would you be interested in some info on that?” June asked carefully, their relationship was rocky and weird, and she didn’t want to overstep. This was her job, though. It was a little bit not her job, actually. But she always wanted to look out for her girls, especially when they were as smart and incredible as Liv.

“Oh, wow. I had no idea she was struggling.” Frankie muttered, and removed his cap. June sucked in a sharp breath at his light brown, bouncy curls as they spilled out. He was beautiful. She distracted herself by moving behind her desk and grabbing a folder she had laid out for Liv, for this exact reason, and she thanked her past self for being put together. Then she went and sat beside him at the small activity table. She felt comical sitting next to him in the small chairs, he was spilling over his own. She laid down the folder and put a hand on his arm.

“Look, it isn’t a struggle that she notices yet. It’s her recall, her attention span, and her ability to focus. That sounds like a lot, I know, but there’s a simple test, and there are effective alternatives to stimulants. I’m on one, and it really helped me. Life is only going to get harder for her, if she has it and it remains untreated, but she has no idea. She isn’t “different” yet, and she’s doing so, so well in class. She is a model student. I just want to help, that’s all.” She watched his face as she spoke, and by the end, he seemed defeated.

“I should have noticed. I’m her dad. I...I’ve been worried I’m not around enough, and now you drop this on me.” He laughed dryly. She patted his arm.

“Liv talks about you all the time. She loves you, Frankie. She tells us all the time about her pilot dad.” June said it before she had time to think, before she connected “Liv’s Dad” with Frankie, the man before her. And then, her big mouth spit out something she wanted to take back immediately. “But you’re a farmer, right?” He looked up into her eyes, and his face was hard.

“Anything else you wanted to tell me about Liv?” His words were right, but the tone was too harsh. June flinched back from him, and dropped her gaze from his suddenly hard face.

“Liv is a great girl. She’s great to have in class. I have nothing else for you.” June told him monotonically, going on autopilot so as not to cry. She had spent the whole weekend thinking about him, then she had planted a stupid garden to have more in common with him, and then fate brought them back together, and she screwed it up again. She decided it was done, then. Frankie Morales was not in the cards for her. Sure, she might see him again because she taught his daughter, but she was through thinking of him like that.

“Good. I have to get going, next time try to be on time.” He scolded, as he stood abruptly and left without another word. Slowly, June followed and shut the door behind him. Alone, at last, she started crying.

~~~

“Idiot. You fucking idiot.” Frankie berated himself in his truck. He couldn’t believe it when she swept into the room. He had found her. Not her, he thought with a grimace, Juniper. The name felt so appropriate. It was an old name, but it suited her so perfectly. He exhaled roughly and tried to rewrite the scene. She was looking out for Liv. She wanted Liv to be happy and succeed. This woman cared more about his daughter than Liv’s own mother. And as soon as she tried to get to know him, he bit her head off and made her feel bad for being late. Jesus, what a dick. He had found her, and in a single moment, he had managed to ruin it again.

He put the truck in drive and headed home. Nothing left to do here, he thought bitterly. He was pulling up the driveway when he remembered that she had started a garden. It wasn’t a coincidence, he realized. She had started a garden because of him. He parked the truck and laid his head against the steering wheel. He had pushed her away at every turn. The market, the bar, and now at the school. He had seen her face before he left, and knew it was done. He had pushed too far, too fast. Of course, she would want nothing more to do with him. He had done nothing but treat her like shit.

He got out of the truck and threw his hat. It didn’t do much except get his cap dirty, but it was all he could do. He pulled his phone out, and pulled her name up. He typed a long message, and erased it. Then he tried again, and erased it again. His pride was getting in the way. He couldn’t tell her about his piloting years. The army, spec ops, Colombia, the coke, or any of it. She could just hate him, and then he couldn’t hurt her anymore.

~~~~

June paced up and down her classroom. Her face was puffy, still, and she had been struggling to focus all day. She couldn’t meet anyone new for dinner; she wasn’t in the right headspace for a date. Let alone one where she would have to leave a lasting impression. She chewed her thumb nail before heading down the hall.

Samantha's classroom was pretty close to her own, and June was glad for it. If she had had to walk further she would have lost her nerve. June knocked tentatively on the door, before pulling it open. Samantha looked up and grinned.

"Hey girl! Are you excited for your big date tonight?" June’s own smile fell from her face.

"Actually, that's why I'm here. I want to cancel." Samantha's smile pulled down quickly.

"Why?"

"I'm having kind of a bad day for impressions," June told her flatly.

"Well, I couldn't if I wanted to. Santiago is out of town, no reception. I don't have the friend's number." June groaned.

"Okay, alright. Ugh, probably for the best. Do you know anything else about him? I’ve had kind of a rough day. You said, ex-military right?”

“Yeah, Santi doesn’t really talk about that time, and I haven’t pushed it. I met him a while back, Fish. He’s sweet. I think he’ll be your type. You like tan brunettes?” June nodded, laughing and thinking about Frankie Morales again.

“He’ll be perfect. Doesn’t say much and likes beer, that’s all I know.” Samantha gave a small shrug.

“Alright, thanks. I’ll let you finish eating.” June said, excusing herself.

She left feeling defeated. A parent was going to be late this afternoon, she had gotten the email after the Frankie disaster. Which meant that she was going to be late to dinner. She wasn't killing it in the men department so she hoped that despite a military background he wouldn't mind her tardiness. She couldn't handle another horrible scene like the one from this morning.

The rest of the day was uneventful, which she was glad for. Her nerves were on the edge. She tried to ignore how much Liv favored her dad, and how she loudly told the class about their upcoming camping trip. She found herself listening intently, despite herself. And even chuckled at the girl’s memories of the last trip. June’s mood improved with the day, too. She even played a little music in the background while the kids worked on their worksheets.

By the time she had hauled herself into her car, the last thing she wanted to do was go to dinner. But she swiped on her favorite lipstick and drove to the restaurant. If she broke the speed limit, she would only be about five minutes late, and she pushed it. She wanted to drink some wine, and forget about Frankie Morales. Another tan brunette in her life would do her good, she thought happily. She was tired, but she wanted to make the most of it.

---

Frankie was looking back and forth between the menu and his watch. He couldn't believe that another woman was about to be late on him. He was trying hard to get June out of his mind, and his blind date wasn't making it easy on him. He chuckled when he realized what he was doing. Just meeting a total stranger for dinner. He didn't have much choice in the matter, he thought, remembering how Pope had basically told him where and when, without asking if Frankie was even interested.

She had good taste, he conceded. This was his favorite spot. They made amazing, fresh pasta. He was eyeing the cocktail menu, when she rushed in. He couldn't believe he was running into her again.

It was June, because of course it was. She was flushed, probably late again, he huffed, but she had put on a bright red lipstick that made his heart stutter. He lowered his gaze back to the menu. He hoped she wouldn't see him out on a date, even if he saw her. The hope was short lived because she made her way to him, her eyes glinting with an emotion he couldn't place, and she exhaled deeply.

"Let me guess, your call sign is Fish, right?" His eyes snapped to hers and she laughed while nodding. It was her. He had found her again. The waiter walked over and she told him to bring a bottle of red, and a beer for him. He told the waiter his brand, and raked his eyes over her.

"Sorry I'm late, I had a crazy day." She mused once she had taken two deep sips of her wine.

"Yeah? What is it you do?" He asked, hoping beyond hope that this was their start over. Their fourth, or so, start over.

"Teacher. Yeah, I teach. Most days it's easy, but some days there are parents." She told him, her cheeks flushed.

"Hopefully, no jerks?" He asked, quickly taking a sip of his beer. She held her head to the side before she sighed.

"I don't know what's going on here, Frankie. It's kind of exhausting. I think you're pretty handsome, you grow amazing food, you have a beautiful daughter, but I think we just keep messing up. How about, just for now, we enjoy this meal and the company, and tomorrow we can talk about what it means that we can't keep away from each other?" He searched her eyes. She was tired, he could tell, but she was so sincere. He wanted desperately to know why she sat down instead of just leaving. He wanted to know why they were seemingly so connected. He wanted to know if he'd been on her mind too.

"I'm thinking the carbonara." He answered, and she smiled before looking the menu over herself. The rest could wait. He had found her again.”

[hopelessromanticvirgo]

Number 134 [17]

Chapter 16

“I’m so sorry for calling you this late at night but I have so many problems and your voice is the only answer to all of them.”

When Robbe got woken up and saw the incoming call for Sander at four o’clock in the morning he got worried, took the phone in his hands with trembling fingers, imagining and waiting for the worst.

But fortunately, the boy just couldn’t sleep and wanted somebody to talk to, and after apologizing nonstop for minutes and Robbe saying it was alright and he was happy that Sander called and reached out, they started talking.

“What’s up?” Robbe really wasn’t mad for being awake, he also wanted to talk to Sander.

Somehow talking to him also became his only happy place but he was acting horrible to him in the past, he knew that, but couldn’t help but take everything out on him which wasn’t fair but he’s trying to change that now.

He sometimes would forget that he was talking to Sander because he was the only who needed help and communication at first but now, the situation turned over and it seemed like Sander became his therapist and not the other way around, what an irony.

And Robbe didn’t have a very good day and was so relived when he heard his voice again.

He’s getting close to him, it’s obvious and everyone around him has noticed, how he’s always on his phone wherever he is, and how he just says that he’s busy all day long every other day and the only answer he has to that is that, it’s his work.

People know what he does for a living, when he first got accepted, he was yelling it from the rooftops because his dream finally became reality, so when he would say that he was working, they would leave him alone. But after a while, everyone could see it was more than just a job, and more than just a person he talked to.

It was the strange gazes throwing on his way when he went outside to talk at first, then it was weird questions he got that were hinting on something more than it really was, and somehow the conversations changed from “I’m meeting my client today” from “I’m seeing my friend, don’t wait up.”

It was coming home late at night after Sander’d pick him up from the university to go somewhere together almost every single day now.

It was late night talks on the phone and constant laughter that could be heard coming from his room.

It was a little piece of drawings pinned on his walls and finding cute notes in his backpack.

And when he stopped sitting down with his laptop on Sunday mornings, with his email open in front of him, that’s when it became clear for everybody else, that he wasn’t doing this for his job anymore.

And it felt amazing, being with Sander, stuck in a little bubble, not having to worry about anything else, his phone on silent, just enjoying the moment but going back home was always the worst, not only he had to say goodbye to him but all this was making the situation terrible to manage. He knew that after hanging out with him, there was a very serious argument waiting for him from the person he hasn’t been spending time with nowadays. And he got tired of them so he wouldn’t even say where he was going or with who, but Robbe was sure that he knew, of course he did. Which would make them argue more, yell and fight for that night but the next morning always would come and they would calm down and start this endless process all over again and again but for how long, none of them knew.

“Nothing much. I was just thinking about you.” Sander said from the other line and Robbe smiled, looked at the time.

“You were thinking about me at 04:34?” It was crazy how much attention Sander would pay to little things, everything Robbe would even lightly mention with him, Sander remembered it instantly, surprising Robbe when he’d say something about it, shocked that he remembered it. And Sander would do this kind of things often, text him or send him something with a caption “this made me think of you” and Robbe would get the biggest smile on his face and there were no point in trying to hide it, sometimes he would be sitting on a lecture, not even listening, his mind drifting back to his phone where he knows, new messages are waiting to be opened. It’s different from any relationship he has had in his whole life, filled with excitement, happiness, campiness and most importantly love. He has never felt this peace before like he does, while being with him or talking to him, like he knew, this person would move the sun, would do everything for him and would protect him and shield him in his angel wings. His heart wasn’t beating from the adrenaline or stress or nervousness, it was beating fast because Sander really did pay attention to him, made him feel special and important. And Robbe has never felt this way before.

“Uh-huh.” Robbe was wide awake now, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep and he wasn’t mad about it. Right now, being awake was the best thing he could be doing if it meant talking to Sander.

“I don’t believe that.” He relaxed, laying on his back with his right hand holding his phone by his ear, the device that was able to make him hear Sander’s voice whenever he wanted and he has never been this thankful for somebody who created the phones.

“Oh trust me it’s the truth. You’re all I think about.” When he says stuff like that, Robbe can’t help but get embarrassed, blush. It’s too much for him to even acknowledge that somebody can be going on with their day and the thought of Robbe just pops in their heads, specially somebody like Sander.

“There must have been something specific in your mind.” He got somewhat used to Sander talking like this and dares to ask for more, which Sander picked on very fast and easily and never fails to tease him about it.

“Are you fishing for compliments?” Robbe could literally hear the smirk in his voice and shook his head.

“No, I just want to know the exact thing that made you think of me at this time.”

And he wasn’t lying. He really wanted to know.

“I was thinking.”

“Yeah? What were you thinking about, other than me, of course?” Robbe teased with a smile on his face and heard that he made Sander laugh, which made him proud of his self.

The boy stayed silent for a while and Robbe waited for him, gave him the time he needed.

“Robbe.” Sander whispered with some kind of strong emotion in his voice that he couldn’t put a finger on. He wasn’t sure if it was sadness, desperation or something else. But he could hear that whatever Sander was going to say, he was hundred percent serious about it, which made Robbe a little alerted.

“I’m here, I’m listening.”

I’m here for you. I’m here with you. His mind was screaming and begging to tell him that but Robbe said nothing more.

“Have you ever thought that days goes by, and nothing changes but when you look back, everything is completely different. On this day last year, I’d never thought that I’d be where I am right now, and it makes me so happy that I met you.”

Robbe let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding after hearing this. What he’d do to be next to him right now.

“I’m happy I met you too. And you’re right. Everything is different now than it was before. Why are you thinking about this now?” Robbe still got a little bit scared since Sander has told him, he always feels horrible when he starts thinking about life and time. He desperately wants to see him, to know what Sander really feels inside of him, all the emotions he tries so hard to hide but his eyes always seem to betray him.

“I don’t know. It just came into my mind.” Robbe is sure that there is absolutely nothing that just comes in his mind without a reason but decided not to make a comment about that.

“Are you alright?” Robbe asked carefully, trying to not make it obvious that Sander made him worried by talking about this now.

“I am when I’m talking to you.” His heart melted. He doesn’t want to admit but these emotions he’s feeling aren’t friendly and he’s terrified of them, specially when Sander says and tells him those things like it’s not a big deal at all and maybe, it really isn’t for him.

“But Sander, that’s a good thing.”

“What is?”

“That everything is different now.”

“Yeah, it is.” They stayed silent for a while until Robbe heard Sander’s scared voice again.

“Can I tell you something? But don’t get upset.” He hates when Sander warns him like that, Robbe knows whatever he will say will be very personal and most of the times, sad.

“Okay.” His voice betrayed him but Sander didn’t notice or chose not to notice it.

Still silence and when Robbe about to say something more, Sander started.

“If they haven’t found me that night when I - “

Robbe’s eyes got wide, already knowing where he was going with this and what he was talking about.

“No, stop thinking about it. I don’t want you to think or talk about it now.”

Sander ignored what he said like he didn’t hear it at all and continued.

“If I’d died that night like I wanted to, I’d never meet you.”

Not any of them dared to speak up, the silence was consuming them whole.

Robbe was speechless and it seemed like Sander didn’t expect him to answer, and when he said his next sentence, Robbe knew that he was in too deep, this wasn’t going to end well, but after hearing this, his heart couldn’t help but jump, the emotions he tried to keep in so hard, broke down the doors and swallowed him and he realized, that something more than a friendship must be going on between them right now, or it was at least starting to and no matter how wrong that idea seemed like, he still got his hopes up and he really wished to be next to Sander right now.

“For the first time after that, I’m glad they found me on time.”

Chapter 18

[bisluthq]

I think Taylor is too paranoid about privacy to do therapy in the traditional sense of making an appointment to see someone. Like she’d find a recently retired therapist and email them saying she’ll give them $10k for 10 sessions and then send her assistant in with an ear wig to talk to the therapist.

That was partly meant humorously, but also something that if she wrote in a tell all book one day, I wouldn’t flinch because it just sounds like something she’d do.

When she started to seem a bit more mellow and we found out Joe’s mum is a therapist I thought ‘oh this is good for her’ cause she seems like the person who needs to be in control of a lot of stuff, but Joe’s mum suggesting some books or Ted talks or whatever to her could at least get her to tip toe into that world. She’s been reading self help books since at least fearless tour and mentioned Bremer brown in recent years, so I think she’d vibe with different concepts and questions that different self help and psychology books pose and then do soul searching sort of thing.

*im also not suggesting Joe’s mum is her therapist or they seeing her professionally would ever be a good idea btw. I miss my therapist. I haven’t really been able to see her much the past two years with covid stuff but she suggested books which have been some help. I fully endorse everyone going to therapy

Yeah she defs reads self-help books but she also obviously does see doctors and stuff so I wouldn’t be surprised if she sees a therapist too. She’d never talk about it but she wouldn’t about her doctors either. Like yes she’s paranoid but she has a gynae yk and shit so…

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Science & Faith | Carlton Drake x Reader (6/?)

Words: 1575

A/N: Many references to Into the Spiderverse with changes. Reader finally meets the AU!Carlton and the other Spider people. For those who hadn't read my previous series [Apples & Cinnamon], Reader had been in a long-term relationship with Carlton, but they broke up just before the beginning events of the movie and he suffers the same fate.

-

The Return Part Two

Doctor Cho preferred for you to have more rest at home, but you couldn’t just sit around when there were so many things to be done. When you got your phone back, you had several calls from Annie and a few from Dora. You called Annie back, who was worried when she heard about the black out in New York. You assured her that you were fine and that there were people looking into what happened. The next was Dora, who hadn’t picked up on the first two tries. On the third try, she finally picked up.

“(Y/n), thank god,” she said.

“Hey, sorry about that. I hadn’t been able to use my phone for a while. What’s up?” Never mind that you had fainted in the middle of the street and ended up in medical at Stark Tower. Well, Avengers Tower now.

“A lot and I think at this point, I might have to reach out to Stark about this.”

You frowned, looking through your iPad at the emails you had to go through. “That urgent?’

“It’s about the black out.”

“Oh. Okay, um, I’ll notify Tony as soon as I can. I’m sure he’s looking into it right now, but…”

“As soon as possible, please.”

“Sure, sure.” You slowly sat down and started picking at your sleeves. “Um, I heard you were clearing out the Life Foundation. Any plans to do anything with it afterwards?”

Dora sighed, pacing around in Carlton’s old office. “I don’t know. Only a few trusted people have access to the facility right now to clear it up and to the rest of the people that used to work here, well, I’m technically dead. They don’t know that the Symbiote bonded with me.”

The two of you stayed on the phone in silence until you spoke up again. “I didn’t know he would ever do that-”

“(Y/n), please. I didn’t know, either. He just… he became a different person. And,” she added firmly, “It is not your fault for not knowing sooner. You met him at a different point in his life and then he changed. He’s… he’s gone now and we all just need time to recover from all of that… I’ll talk to you soon, (Y/n).”

You cleared your throat and nodded subconsciously. “Yeah, I’ll get you in contact with Tony as soon as I can.”

There was a weird vibe when you entered The Avengers Tower, like everyone was watching you. Was it because you fainted the other day? You didn’t think it was a big deal, but it felt like everyone was cautious around you.

“(Y/n)!” Abigail said with a strained smile, “I thought you weren’t coming in today.”

“Who said that?” you asked, casting a curious glance around the lab. “Did something happen?”

“Well- “

“(Y/n),” a woman’s voice called. You turned and saw Pepper in a white suit standing in the doorway. “Come with me… you might want to brace yourself first.”

You swallowed. What could it possibly be?

You followed Pepper out of the labs towards the communal floor where Tony was. Your shoulders must have been tense as Pepper reached over and gave them a squeeze.

“(Y/n)... we found you back in the parking garage, but you told Doctor Cho that you had driven out to the streets. Do you have any idea of how that could have happened?” Pepper asked gently.

“No,” you said, frowning.

There was a throbbing pain in your temple as you tried to make sense of the recent events. It felt like you were missing a big piece, or if anything, that you were denying that that piece was ever relevant to the puzzle. It was as if that strange puzzle piece had been separated from another puzzle that you were unable to solve, and may never be able to.

Some of the Avengers were on a mission in another country and weren’t due to be back in two weeks. There were voices that you didn’t recognize and then you heard it. The smooth voice that used to comfort you, that whispered to you promises about the future, the one that you never thought you’d hear again. Of course, until the night of the black out.

You froze in place and Pepper made sure to stand a step in front of you as the man turned to approach you. “(Y/n)!” he breathed.

“What?”

That was all you could even think of saying as you stared in bewilderment, your mind reeling at this new development of the current situation. Pepper made sure she was standing in between you and Carlton and close enough in case something happens again.

“How is this possible?” you asked, turning to your boss.

“Okay, (Y/n/n), I think you should sit down,” Tony said, stepping towards the two of you. “I’ve asked you here because I hoped that there was something that you knew that might help. Something that you didn't know was relevant. Also, he’s an annoying ass and he wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“That he’s annoying, or that you may have information?” Tony joked, earning a glare from Carlton, but it did ease the tension in your shoulders.

“Both.”

Pepper brought up a projection showing cameras around New York during the black out, the energy surge originating from Doctor Octavius’s old lab. “As we both know Doctor Octopus had been working on a project but the level of progress of it is unknown after Ock’s accident. From what I remember, Carlton Drake had met with Octavius before this all happened.”

“And you were hoping that I would know?” You crossed your arms, walking towards the projector, hoping that you could bring up any useful memory.

“This Spider squad claims to be from different realities and were teleported around the same time when the black out happened, thus having jaded Peter Parker here and emo Drakey Drake,” Tony said, gesturing a hand at the group. “You know I never pried too much in your private life, but the guy said you were engaged, so I thought to ask.”

You shook your head with a frown. “No. I never said yes to him,” you said as you tried to avoid lingering on that very day that he proposed, “And there were many things that he hid from me. But… his head researcher, Doctor Dora Skirth, is a close friend of mines. She wanted to speak to you about this. She said she found something useful that could help. It’s likely she found something of his when she was clearing up the lab.”

“Skirth, huh?” Tony muttered, allowing you to enter her contact information before calling her.

Her camera blinked into view. “Mister Stark, I’m Doctor Dora Skirth,” she said quickly, eyes downcasted as she shuffled papers around. When she raised her head, her eyes widened seeing who was standing behind you and Tony. “So, it’s true, then. He managed to finish it.”

“What do you have for us, Skirth?”

She cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses as she focused on the information she found. “I’ve managed to find blueprints of the Collider, this super machine that William Fisk commissioned to Doctor Otto Octavius. I’ll send a copy to you right now. The goal was to manipulate the bridge between worlds and use the machine to travel in between them. To restore the realities to its rightful order, we would have to create a code to input into the collider’s system to reverse the effects. Now, we don’t know how flawless this machine is, but travelling through different universes would have to mess up with their atoms as their bodies will react to being in a foreign universe.” Dora paused to gesture to the Spider group. “If it starts happening, it’ll only grow worse from here.”

Tony pointed at the group. “Anyone experiencing headaches? Upset stomach, diarrhea? Or maybe your atoms have been periodically ripped apart?”

They all nodded. You couldn’t help but note how this Carlton carried himself differently than the Carlton you knew. He stood near the front of the group, but allowed others to talk, his eyes focused as he listened closely to them. When he felt you staring, you quickly turned back to the screen where the blueprint of the Collider was now being pulled up.

“Well, then,” he said, taking a sip of whiskey, “Let’s get rocking.”

Tony offered the Spider group a place to stay at the tower before the meeting was dismissed. You turned to leave as soon as you could, ignoring the other Carlton as you walked passed. You couldn’t help but think of all the progress you had made from the emotional stress that he had caused you, pausing to assess what you were currently feeling. It wasn’t sadness. Anger and confusion, surely, but there was something else that you weren’t so sure about. How were you going to tell your therapist about this?

Little by little, there were times where your conversations with your friends back in San Francisco would brush on the subject of Carlton. Little by little, it stopped triggering a big emotional response from you. In a way, your therapist had said, you were still in some state of mourning that was slowly fading. What could have been and what you had lost.

As long as you don’t get too involved with that Carlton Drake from the other universe, it should be fine.

[anarchy-n-glitter]

Nothing to Fear

Summary: Lake County, Colorado 2011

Dr. Catarina Crane arrives at Mount Massive asylum to check on a patient who happened to be working there. She’s offered a job instead.

(Warnings: references to sexual assault - if you've read the comic you know)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 5

She stayed in her office an extra hour before deciding to go home. Her mind was racing as it sorted through all the possibilities - all the ways her search could go wrong. She couldn’t sleep that night. She tossed and turned before finally settling on staring at the ceiling until the sun rose and she had to get ready for work again.

Though her job couldn’t save her either. The hours crept by slowly and the screams of the patients made her wonder who they truly were before ending up in Mount Massive. She found herself looking at the eyes of the deformed patients, making sure none of them were J.J.. He had bright green eyes that seemed almost supernatural. If one of her subjects were him, she’d know. She’d look for other subtle signs as well, taking the time to actually observe them before administering the toxin. This slowed down her progress greatly, and despite the pressure from higher ups she wouldn’t speed up her process. She would brush it off as it being more effective in her studies, but she knew that they’d catch on when she found her friend and could move on.

Hours turned into days. Days turned into almost a week, yet she didn’t hear from Michelle or Trager. She was alone with her paranoia and constant worrying. Her job was on the line now too, and she knew that if she was fired she’d be committed. There was no doubt about it, she’d be next in the Morphogenic Engine program, she’d lose everything. For all she knew, that’s where J.J. was. She didn’t trust the higher ups at Murkoff, she didn’t trust Jeremy Blaire, and she knew that if someone wanted J.J. gone, Blaire would do it and cover it up.

Catarina was smart though, she knew better than to accuse him, or Trager, or write a threatening email about the issue. She knew that if she showed all her cards, Murkoff would come after her, and no amount of connections she had back in Gotham could help her. Though, there was their rival company that she’d been doing business with for a few years prior to her employment at Murkoff. She had friends there, people she knew would help protect her from the reapers at Murkoff. The pharmaceutical company was large and had multiple facilities across the globe, and she knew these friends worked in both Arklay and Paris. Cat would have to flee to Paris if she wanted to get away.

There was a soft knock at her door, and this time Cat remembered to look up before letting them in. The silhouette on the window was small, so she knew it wasn’t Trager.

“Come in.” She said, her voice stern and cold as usual. Lily Dawes walked in, her hands behind her back and her footsteps as quiet as herself. Cat’s harsh blue eyes were glued to her, watching her as she came up to her desk.

“What is it, Dr. Dawes?” Cat asked as she returned her attention to her files. Those precious files, the only thing she could do that allowed her time to zone out and truly think about the situation she’d gotten herself into. She hadn’t even thought of the fact that she agreed to a date with a borderline sociopath, a person she hated, and Friday was tomorrow. She wasn’t ready for it, and she hoped he wouldn’t be able to track J.J. down so she can use it as an excuse to not go. She hoped her and Michelle would find him first.

“The IT girl is here to see you, she was talking about picking up a laptop that was acting up?” Lillian explained, though she sounded weary. Cat never mentioned a broken laptop to her before, so she assumed something was up.

“Oh yes, send her in.” Cat muttered, not missing a beat. She looked back down at the papers in front of her, but Lillian didn’t move.

“You never mentioned having problems before.” She stated, but Cat was still focused on her files. She wouldn’t spare her a glance.

“Because you’re not in IT, are you?” Cat responded, her voice cold and bordering on annoyed. In reality, her heart was beating in her ears and threatening to burst out of her chest. Michelle was waiting to go in, she probably had information on J.J., and Lillian was holding them up.

The small blonde shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable. Catarina had been more irritable lately, and Dr. Dawes had tried her best not to anger her. She was used to walking on eggshells at home because of her boyfriend, and work had usually given her a distraction from what she would be going home to, up until Dr. Crane started acting in a similar way. She hadn’t seen Cat angry, and she knew she didn’t want to. Cat was scary as it was when she was calm, and Lillian knew that Dr. Crane’s anger was not something to be trifled with.

“I’m sorry, I’ll let her in.” Lillian said quietly as she turned around. Her quiet footsteps grew even quieter as she left Dr. Crane’s office, and she shut the door quietly too. Cat knew that Lillian was a brilliant girl, and she felt a small bit of remorse for how she was treating her. She had to focus though, no one could know about what she was up to, and if she didn’t need him (the thought of needing him absolutely disgusted her), Trager would be in the dark about it too.

The door opened again, and Michelle’s portly form came into Cat’s view. She wasn’t holding anything, but she kept her hands above her stomach as she played with what Cat assumed was a hangnail, pulling at it nervously and seemingly avoiding looking at the doctor in front of her. Cat put the documents back into her folder and put it in the last drawer in her desk, then looked up.

“If you want there are chairs over there, you can pull one up.” Cat offered, gesturing to the chairs along the wall. Michelle looked over and nodded, making her way to one of them and bringing it to Cat’s desk.

“What’s up? Did you find J.J.?” Cat asked frantically. Michelle looked down at her hands which were folded neatly in her lap. This had been bothering her for the past week, and she found that the words she wanted to say were caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure how she’d bring it up, how she would warn her friend, but she couldn’t think of how to do it.

“I haven’t found anything yet. I couldn’t stay in the security room for too long the other day without the guard getting upset and suspecting I was up to something.” Her voice was soft, which alarmed Cat further.

“What’s the matter? You sound like something’s on your mind.” While Cat sounded like a genuinely concerned person (she was using what she called her therapist voice), she couldn’t deny her rising paranoia at the situation. Why would Michelle sound so upset, so distraught?

“I saw something on the footage. I - I can’t just let you hurt yourself like this without at least warning you…” She trailed off, yet this only served to intrigue Dr. Crane.

“Hurting myself? I have no idea what you’re-”

“I saw you leaving Mr. Trager’s office, and I don’t know the situation but… I don’t know if you know, but he’s not someone you wanna be around.” She stopped, feeling as if she were going to vomit. If she was going to get Cat to understand just how awful Trager was as a person, she’d have to tell her everything. Dr. Catarina Crane would be the first person to know what happened.

Yet, when Cat let out an airy laugh, she felt the pressure get worse. Her anxiety practically skyrocketed.

“Oh trust me Michelle, I know.” Cat responded, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“You don’t know, Cat. You really don’t.” Michelle stated, and Cat noticed the tears brimming in her eyes.

“What did he do to you? What happened?” Her voice was a little bit more chilling, but it didn’t mean she cared any less. Michelle looked back down at her hands, and no matter how many times Cat asked her what happened or to look at her, she wouldn’t look up and she wouldn’t respond. She had to gather all the courage she had in her to tell Cat, and she just wanted her to be safe. She didn’t want her making the same mistakes she did, and while no one warned her about Trager, she was going to make sure Cat knew.

“Michelle?” Cat asked, though this time she was next to her, one of her hands over hers and a genuine look of concern in her eyes. This, along with when she first found out J.J. was missing, was the most human she’d seen Cat. Normally she seemed robotic, cold and calculated, but for once she was showing a vulnerable side of her, she was showing that she cared about Michelle.

“I went on one date with him one night…” She began, her voice barely above a whisper. Cat kneeled next to her so she could see her face. She wanted to make sure she was okay and that she was comfortable opening up. Cat didn’t mean to pry, but part of her wants leverage on him. It was selfish, and she knew it was, but any dirt she had on Trager would do her good.

“I agreed to go back to his place, and I don’t know what I was thinking but I went. We had a couple drinks there and… I don’t remember the rest, but I could tell what happened.” Cat suddenly saw red. She was beyond horrified, beyond angry, but not only that she felt vindicated. She knew there was something off about him the moment she laid eyes on him, she had every reason not to trust him, and she was right not to.

“I could tell what happened in the morning, though. Then he was sending me abortion clinic pamplets and threatening me if I didn’t go through with aborting and-” She couldn’t finish, overwhelmed by the memories and the emotions that came with them. Cat froze, staring at Michelle’s stomach and slowly piecing everything together. She was horrified when she finally processed the fact that her friend’s kid was his. Michelle was crying, but Cat couldn’t move. She felt a flurry of emotions, most she couldn’t even identify. She wanted to help her friend, who she knew was having a worse time than she was at the moment, but she was stuck in her own head.

“I’m so sorry.” She could only mutter those three words, and in the blink of an eye she was suddenly hugging her. She wasn’t sure how she managed to get there, but she supposed all that mattered was that she did. She eased away as Michelle sat up a little.

“I just wished someone had told me. I don’t know why I didn’t see it, he was just… charming, I guess?” Cat felt herself almost gag at that description of Trager, yet she knew that not everyone had an undying hatred for him like she did. Some people might have actually liked him, and obviously Michelle was one of them. Was. She stood, but her legs felt like they were made of rubber.

“I’m going out with him tomorrow night…” Cat muttered. Michelle looked up, her eyes wide.

“What?” She asked, her voice shaky. Cat looked down at her.

“Thank you for telling me this.” Cat said as she walked toward her desk. She went to the left side of it and opened one of the drawers, the middle one, and took out a syringe filled with a mysterious, yellow fluid. Michelle eyed it wearily, unsure of whether Cat was truly on her side at the moment or not. What she just told her had given her reason to believe she wasn’t.

“If he tries anything, I’ll make sure he’s never able to form a coherent sentence again.” Cat practically spat. Michelle couldn’t help but feel frightened by Cat’s sudden anger, even if it was for a good reason.

“I’m so sorry he did that to you.” Cat muttered again as she put the syringe in her bag.

2

“Doc!” That was the voice of the last person she wanted to hear from. She had gone nearly a week without seeing him, and not only that but she had that bombshell dropped on her earlier. She stopped in her tracks, but she refused to turn around. He would make her look at him anyway, who cared if he had to take a few extra steps.

“Look who’s being all cold all of a sudden.” He continued on, attempting to touch her arm. She jerked away from him and watched as his face dropped. He furrowed his eyebrows at this, but she reminded herself that he shouldn’t be surprised. She didn’t like him, and she only agreed to go out with him because he was helping her.

“Cat.” He scolded, but this only annoyed her further. She didn’t say anything though. When he reached out this time, she didn’t move away. I’m doing this for J.J., she reminded herself as she suppressed the urge to puke. He grabbed her arm rather harshly and pulled her closer to him as he led the way down the hall. She was dragging her feet, not wanting to follow him or be around him, but she knew this wouldn’t deter him.

“I think I found him.” He whispered. She stopped walking altogether and stared at him, bewildered. She didn’t think he could do it, and if he was telling the truth she’d say she was almost impressed.

“Take me to him.” She demanded. Trager smiled at this, at her desperation.

“All right, follow me.” He said as he led her to the elevators.

[samtheflamingomain]

25.21%

I've been sober for 3 months today. 92 days. 25.21% of 2021.

I could've posted more updates, more milestones (it took a LOT not to post on Day 69) but I wanted to kind of save it up for a Big Day. It was also a decent way to continue to incentivize my continued sobriety: a full pass to do a shameless, hardcore bragging sesh.

Anyway, this post comes in 2 parts: the TL;DR for those who only want the gist, then more in depth on my ability to stay sober, the lasting effects of rehab, etc.

I tried my damnedest to pare this absolute novel down, but it's long, so feel free to dip out if you just get bored. Onward!

TL;DR: I went to rehab the beginning of July for 3 weeks and haven't had a drop of alcohol since. I've lost weight, I'm more healthy, my daily anxiety level went from 8 to 2, I haven't had an anxiety attack in 3 months, and everything generally just seems... easier. My memory and concentration have improved. I've been productive and I've been meditating every day. I'm saving money, and while I sometimes fantasize about getting drunk, that's usually all it is.

Honestly, it's been much easier than I expected, but I think a lot of that is because for the first 3 weeks, the time in which I would usually break down and start drinking again when trying to get sober myself, was spent behind a locked door. So far I haven't had any days where I was close to giving in. I haven't had many days where I've been depressed about it, missing it or really tempted. Maybe 3-4. I've basically just gotten on with my life as if alcohol doesn't exist.

To wrap up the short version for those ready to peace out, I'll leave it with a bit of advice.

I don't feel qualified to give any specific advice, because my story feels very unique to me, and I honestly don't think what worked for me will work for MOST people. Sometimes people spend a year in rehab and still drive straight to the liquor store on their way home.

That said, there's one thing that I've found pretty universally true: you have to really want it. For a while, I floated about without much of a "reason" to stay sober. I don't have a spouse, kids or a job I've been fired from, so I didn't see the point.

It's taken me a while, but after not being "convinced" by a few superficial "reasons" like weight loss and saving money, I thought I needed something more... permanent? Consequential? I now realize that my "reason" for getting sober at a young age after only a few years of alcoholism is that I don't want it to get to a point where I'm hurting other people, drinking myself into multiple lasting health problems... I don't want it to become permanent or consequential.

Anyway, that's my two cents. If you do have something like kids or trouble keeping a job, definitely use that as your reason. But for anyone who's a pretty "functional" alcoholic like I was, "not letting it go on long enough to become disfunctional" is a good enough reason.

This is going to get stupid long, so feel free to walk away now, just glad you read this much and it really does mean the world when people listen to what I have to say.

Now some more things in depth. I'll go in chronological order: what made me get sober, what I took from rehab (and what I left), and how it's been the past few months.

I started drinking when I got kicked out, manic out of my mind and homeless unable to sleep. It took a while until I was able to sleep without alcohol, but by then the addict brain had taken over. I'd tried a few times to get sober myself, but I never made it more than a week without, and always got back to daily drinking after a few months maximum.

Some people need a "wake up call", a "last straw" or a "rock bottom". Something external to make them realize they can't go on as they are. For me, the catalyst was my health, which is more of an internal reason I suppose. I didn't have a heart attack or liver failure, but my anxiety was getting uncontrollable and I knew it was directly tied to my drinking.

My life had been starting to feel tolerable, and I was more financially secure than ever before. Things were looking up... except for the alcoholism. This is a weird analogy but the only one that makes sense to express why, if I was doing so well on paper, I decided to go to rehab: you have to sweep before you mop. If I hadn't been in the place I was, I don't think I would've been successful at rehab. I had to sweep up the cat turds from the floor of my life before I was able to mop up the shit stains with sobriety. I know, I'm a true wordsmith.

When I finally called the hotline that hooked me up with a bunch of different rehabs, I knew I was in for a wait. It was about 5 months from that call to checking in, which isn't too bad considering I've been on the waitlist for a neuropsychiatrist in ALL OF CANADA for 4 years.

That brings us to July 12th, Rehab Day One. I've gone in depth in multiple other posts but to touch on it briefly, if I had to describe my experience in a sentence I'd say "the place I went to got very lucky with me".

What this means is that, of the 5 people in my group, I think this exact program was only ever going to help me. At the same time, I didn't even know what I would need, but this exact program was 90% of it. I didn't think 3 weeks would be long enough, but for me it was. The hours-long, repetitive, basic-ass CBT groups held 5 times a day 7 days a week was absolute torture for everyone but myself. While it was a drag to spend an hour on defining what a cognitive distortion is, the routine and repetition, something I've never gotten out of any outpatient program, helped me to really absorb the information and let it rewire my brain.

I've always said that I'm someone who should be spending an hour a day with a therapist for the rest of my life, and while that's not even remotely feasible, this was as close as it's ever gotten, and it proved me right, because it worked. I've done biweekly therapy for a short time but even that didn't come close to the way my brain changed in those 3 short weeks.

This program required absolute commitment and open-mindedness. This isn't because it was hard work or difficult concepts, but quite the opposite. While I hate the entire concept of art therapy being used as a cure-all for mental illness, I willingly got out of my bed, went downstairs and tried doing a dot mandala for an hour because I'm willing to try anything to get better. A lot of people might think they are, but really aren't. To use the mandala as an example, one guy was really into it, I wasn't, but we both finished. The other 3 tried, messed up a few times, and then scrolled through their phones. When I say this program necessitates complete engagement, that's not a compliment. It shouldn't be a chore to engage with the program. It shouldn't take me actively saying "I know I've known this basic concept since 4th grade, but maybe hearing it again will help" to get something out of a rehab program. So again, in every way, I got lucky, and so did they.

Before I finish with the rehab section, having had a few months to reflect on the whole thing, I now have an endless list of things wrong with it. I arrived, greeted by the most jaded and disillusioned of staff, and quickly became disturbed and at points concerned with just how negligent the staff are.

Maybe it's because I've been on the psych ward where they won't even let you have shoelaces and shine a flashlight on your face every half hour through the night, but it could've been so incredibly easy to sneak in alcohol. I brought 2 full water bottles, fully expecting to have to dump them out upon arrival, but they said "nah it's fine". Is it though?

Then there were actual counsellors there who were... okay. I recall one, the one I thought was the smartest, reading a handout aloud and coming across the word "delve" as in "let's delve into..." and stumbled, then said she doesn't know that word. The room was silent. As she pulled up Google on the screen I said, "it means to dive into it". She Googled it anyway. Synonyms include "dive in". If that was the only example I wouldn't mention it, but this was the first of at least 10 words she had do Google, none past a 10th grade level, from HER OWN MATERIAL. From that point on it became clear that they had no fucking idea what they were doing.

We had one last one-on-one counselling session before we left and the counsellor just filled in boxes to questions on her computer, rephrasing everything I said to fit into the buzzwords and "lessons" we'd "learned". Example. Me: I do think I'm better able to catch myself thinking 'oh I can just have one drink' and say 'no I can't'." Her: "Okay, so would you say that you can recognize negative cognitive distortions like permission-giving thoughts and counter them with a more rational and less emotional mind?" Like girl, blink twice if your boss is holding your family hostage. She gave me some papers, detailing all the online courses they were signing me up for and options for more treatment they'd be sending me, a phone number to call and a phone appointment for the next Monday. I never got that call, the phone number is a hotline, I never got a single email from them, and given how shitty they really are at their jobs, I didn't feel the inclination to try and get those resources. If they even exist in the first place.

In summation, it was a place where it was physically impossible to get alcohol. That's really all I can say in its favor. Oh, and they let you have your cell phone.

Now on our timeline I'm back home. I want to kind of analyze why it's been easy for me.

I often said that my main goal of going to rehab was to lock me away from alcohol long enough for it to reset my brain. Most people thought that was naïve, but that's exactly what happened. But I'm well aware that my experience of "instantly became sober and literally hasn't had a single hard day in 3 months" is absurdly unusual.

I put this down to a few things. Firstly, I'm on seven different meds for my mental health. Almost all of them have their effects dulled or even eliminated when you drink. So when I noticed my mood, fatigue, memory, concentration etc all getting better at once - right about as I left rehab, I don't think it would be a stretch to say that all those meds started working properly.

Secondly, I've been keeping myself busy, but that's something I've always been good at. Now I specifically choose to undertake projects that will eat up a lot my time and put me in a state of flow. I recently made an entire card game from scratch, and let me tell you, I didn't think of alcohol for a week.

Thirdly, my other goals now get in the way of alcohol. I'm getting old and my body is deteriorating. But I've always wanted to do just one last season of gymnastics. Well, I need to lose weight for that to happen. I've already lost 35 pounds, and after another 20 I'll be ready to go. Also, I used to spend more on alcohol per month than rent. Even though I've done a few shopping sprees lately, I haven't come remotely close to how much I was spending before.

I want it more than anything. I want to be sober more than I want one night of "fun" that will more likely than not lead me back to where I was a year ago. I never want to need anything as much as I needed alcohol.

Lastly, just a few more random thoughts.

A lot of people, myself included, worried about the fact that I work at a bar as a cook, but honestly the entire time I'm there I'm thinking about food, not alcohol. If I'm hanging out with some regulars before/after, I can watch them drink and be perfectly fine with my coffee, because the coffee is $2, and I used to spend $20 after every work shift.

I also decided in rehab to start taking better care of myself as best I could. This started with getting my second vax which I'd been putting off, then an eye appointment, then new glasses, then a dentist appointment where I was informed I need to do $3000 worth of work on my implant that's erroding my bone matter, so that sucks, but I caught it early. I've also been meditating every day. In just 3 months, I've made pretty big improvements to my self-care and my daily routine.

One of my fears about sobriety was "missing out" on "having fun". A few days ago, all my housemates got together to play Mario Party, and it was kind of my first night doing something social while sober. It was a breath of fresh air - I wasn't constantly running to piss, I didn't worry about running out of alcohol, I didn't get sloppy and obnoxious as I can sometimes do. I even came very very close to winning my first game of MP. When I reflected on the night, I realized that, if I'd been getting drunk the whole time, I would've sucked at the minigames, been a hindrance to anyone unfortunate enough to be teamed with me, and likely would've stopped caring about the game itself after the first few turns.

Yesterday I was making my 4th pot of coffee of the day when I realized there was a full glass of wine just sitting on the counter. I had absolutely no idea where the hell it came from - nobody in my house drinks wine. I shrugged and poured that sweet sweet bean juice. It was only when I sat down and took a sip of coffee did I find myself thinking automatically, "this tastes so much better than wine". I only realized then that it had been rose wine, the only kind I've ever been able to tolerate. It was the ultimate moment of possible temptation, and the thought of just chugging that glass - as I may've done in the past - didn't even cross my mind.

I'm so glad to be where I am. I'm about to undergo some serious financial changes - i.e. going absolutely broke - but drinking isn't gonna help that, so I'm cautiously optimistic.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.

[floatingpetals]

What Have I Done? || Epilogue

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past traumas, fluff(Is that really a warning tho?)

Word Count: 3900+

Summary: A bad break up between Bucky and his ex leads to a new friendship with the quiet tech he never had the chance to get to know. Relationships grow, feelings are caught, and boundaries are explored. Bucky thought he found his happy ending, but old memories haunt his future. He knows what he’s doing wrong, dangerous even, but he can’t help it. Can he fix the wrongs he’s done? -a requested story for @iheartsebastianstan​

**THIS IS AN 18+ STORY, SO PLEASE NO MINORS!

A/N: And I oop-. This has been a long time coming, huh? Thank you for everyone being so incredibly patient with me. I hated how long I’ve been fighting this, don’t know why it was so hard to finish either. I hope you all enjoy the last bit of their story! Let me know what you think and enjoy!!

Gif is not mine, credit to the creator. text dividers credit: @writeyourmindaway​​

Chapter 12 | Epilogue | Series Masterlist

Six months later:

“Come on Wolf!”

Bucky chuckled at the shout from outside the little oasis he’d been living in the past six months and zipped up his bag with the last of his things. Even though he was excited, there was the bubbling apprehension that was festering in the pit of his stomach. Today was the day. The day he was given clearance from his therapists to go back to the compound and restart his life.

“The jets not going to wait forever for you!”

Bucky fondly rolled his eyes and threw the bag over his shoulder before he shot one last look over the room. Sighing softly, he headed towards the door.

“I’m coming. Chill.” He shouted back.

Shuri leaned against a fence post outside, flipping through her holographic messages. When Bucky opened the door, she glanced up and swiped the message clear. She beamed and pushed off the post.

“Finally. I thought I was going to have drag you out by your ear.” She smirked.

“Hey, the only person who can do that is my mother or sister, and I’m pretty sure you’re neither.” Bucky shook his head and brushed passed her. Shuri giggled and skipped alongside him, her arms clasped behind her back with her trademark smirk.

“I would say I’m a little offended you don’t see me as your little sister after all we’ve been through. You keep coming back no matter how many times I scare you off.” Shuri teased, nudging Bucky’s side with her elbow.

Bucky laughed and shook his head. Over the past six months, Bucky had grown closer to Shuri than he had been before. He’d spend hours at her lab, letting her tinker on his arm between his trips to therapy sessions and helping the farmers in the fields. Her cheer and sarcastic attitude was something he didn’t know he needed. She helped make things easier dealing with the separation from the people he loved back home and dealing with the trauma he’d gone through. It was like she was his own personal cheerleader who was willing to smack him in the back of the head when he’d go too deep in his dark thoughts. She didn’t let him get away with much. Anything, really.

Therapy itself was exhausting but also life-altering. There wasn’t one second where he doubted his decision to come here. He needed this. If he hadn’t gotten help when he did, Bucky feared to know where he would have been. There was no doubt in his mind things would have gotten worse and everything he loved, even the woman he cherished, would have abandoned him without a backward glance.

Now though, he knew what went wrong. He knew he wasn’t anything Vivian said to him. He was important, he did mean something to several people. And he still tangled occasionally with this, he acknowledged he isn’t a monster. He never was and now he could finally breathe easier. The little voices in the back of his head weren’t gone, of course, the therapist told him they’d never truly be gone, but now he knew how to separate them from the truth. 

Their only goal was to bring him down, to tear him and all his hard work to pieces. And now he had the tools to fight back. He’d still have therapy once a week, Bucky wasn’t completely ready to give that up yet, but they could easily be done over the phone or by video call now. He no longer needed to be here.

“Are you excited about going back?” Shuri asked, pulling Bucky back to the present. He hummed and nodded, despite the butterflies in his stomach. Shuri narrowed her eyes at him, catching the hesitancy in his lackluster reply. “That’s not a very convincing answer, Sargent.”

Bucky exhaled loudly and ran his metal hand through his hair. He knew what she really meant; he just didn’t want to answer it. Truthfully, he was terrified. A long time had passed since he left. Things have changed, and he hadn’t left on a positive note. There was a high chance Y/N took his words to heart and moved on. Bucky wouldn’t blame her. He treated her like she was nothing more than a possession. Y/N deserved better than that. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop him from hoping she might give him another chance.

“Bucky.” Shuri stopped in front of him, her face serious. Bucky blinked. “You don’t have to go so soon if you need more time. You were just cleared today. We would understand if you needed to stay and you’re always welcomed here.”

Warmth bubbled in Bucky’s chest, a tiny smile spreading on his lips. It felt nice to be welcomed somewhere. Everyone here greeted him with open arms. This was his second home and as much as he would love to stay, he needed to go home to his first. He couldn’t hide forever.

Inhaling deeply, Bucky let out a steady breath and smiled widely. For the first time in forever, Bucky felt light and free. Yes, he was ready and optimistic about whatever the future held.

“Yeah.” Bucky beamed, his happiness shining in his eyes. “I’m ready to go home.”

“Requesting clearance for landing.”

Bucky buckled in his seat, inhaling nervously through his nose as Okoye made her decent. There was a frustrated grumble on the intercom that brought an amused smirk to his face.

“Oh for the- Just land the damn jet.” Tony huffed through the speaker. Bucky shot a curious glance over to where Okoye sat at the helm. She had an amused smirk on her face and winked at Bucky when she caught him staring. Bucky laughed, realizing it wasn’t because she was going by the book, not in the slightest. Apparently, not even she was above riling up Tony.

As the jet began its descent, Bucky felt the nerves in the pit of his stomach increase with each passing second. There was no turning back now, he couldn’t run away if he wanted to. Besides, Okoye wouldn’t hesitate to drag him by the back of his neck if he tried to bolt. Not that he would.

After a smooth landing, Bucky shakily stood to go to his bag. He’s been on missions where he might never return home from, faced villains that would turn anyone’s blood cold, but this- seeing everyone after how he left things. This was terrifying. He tried to tamp down his nerves and push aside the bubble of uncertainty that rose in his throat.  

“I hope you don’t mind. Peter and his friends have invited me out to go see a movie.” He heard Shuri say to her brother. T’challa hummed and walked to the ramp as it lowered.

“I expected you to leave. Take Okoye.” He replied. Bucky slung his bag over his shoulder, grinning wide at the whine from Shuri and the frustrated scoff that came Okoye.

“I’m sorry. Would I be a buzzkill, your majesty?” Okoye asked tartly. Bucky walked up behind them to follow down the ramp, his grip tight on the handles to his bag. Shuri rolled her eyes and sent the older woman an annoyed glare.

“I’m not a child.” Shuri argued. “I don’t need a baby sister.”

“And yet, you were the one that filled the throne room with the chickens that took half the staff and me the entire day collecting.” T’challa replied simply, completely unfazed. Bucky snickered. He might have helped with a few chickens. “Consider this payback for the chicken shit we were covered in.”

Bucky turned to the laugh at the bottom of the ramp, spotting three faces he worried seeing and quickly looked at his feet. Tony stood at the bottom of the ramp, hearing the argument and smirked at the two siblings. Beside him stood Steve and Natasha, both looking excited and happy to see everyone. Bucky couldn’t meet any of their eyes, still too nervous that they harbored some resentment from him. 

He hadn’t spoken to any of them since he left, both he and the others agreeing that contact would be nonexistent until he was given the okay. T’challa would occasionally let them know how Bucky was doing, but it wasn’t often. He was supposed to tell them he was coming home, but he couldn’t even find the courage to pick up the phone. Instead, he sent a short email of the news and left it at that. An email, he scoffed to himself. I couldn’t even send them a text.

T’challa stepped away from his sister and greeted Tony with a wide smile and clasped the man’s offered hand in a shake. Bucky heard them say their hellos, a few snips between siblings thrown in here and there. Hesitantly, he raised his eyes to look them over and noticed there wasn’t the one person he hoped would be there. His heart dropped. Y/N was nowhere to be found. T’challa walked off with Tony and Natasha, his sister and Okoye following close behind, leaving Bucky alone with Steve.

Steve waited for Bucky, his hands tucked in his pocket and a gentle smile on his face. Bucky stopped at the bottom of the ramp, his feet refusing to take the last step off.

“How ya doin’ pal?” Steve asked, his voice void of malice and resentment. In fact, he sounded happy to see him. It surprised Bucky. Of all people he expected to hold the grudge, he expected Steve to keep a firm grip on that. Blinking, Bucky swallowed and nodded.

“I’m doing better.” He mumbled. “A lot, actually.”

Steve didn’t say anything. His eyes traced over Bucky, searching for something in his friend. He must have liked what he saw, his smile stretched across his face. Wordlessly, Steve opened his arms and closed the distance, pulling Bucky into a tight hug. All the fear and anxiety left Bucky in an instant, his shoulder sagging in relief. He returned the hug full-heartedly, squeezing Steve in a way to convey his relief.

“We missed you, Buck.” Steve said genuinely as he pulled away. Bucky’s breath hitched and he stared in disbelief at Steve with wide eyes. Steve chuckled and jerked his chin to the hangers' door. “Come on.”

Steve led Bucky through the familiar halls, asking any and all questions pertaining to his time away. Bucky found it easy to slip back into joking with his friend, and the realization that in the last few months before going to Wakanda, Bucky had shut himself away from Steve. From everyone for that matter. He missed his friend.

Bucky knew what Steve meant when he missed him. It was a big topic the therapists worked on in their sessions Steve didn’t mean he just missed him while he was gone, he meant he missed him period. Bucky might have found a lot in Y/N, but he quickly understood he lost a lot of himself along the way by listening to the voices that told him otherwise. Now, he was going to do everything he could to keep from falling on old habits. He had to. There was no way he could put anyone else through this again.

Steve stopped outside the living room, standing off to the side a wide crooked smile.

“We figured you’d want some time to yourselves. Everyone’s going to the lake house Tony bought a few weeks ago for the afternoon. We’ll be back around seven for dinner.” Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder and took the bag Bucky still held. “I’ll go put this in your room. And good luck.”

Bucky frowned at how obscure his friend was being. He watched Steve disappear around the corner before shaking his head. Stepping into the living room, Bucky froze when he saw who was sitting on the couch.

Y/N looked up when she heard him walk in, her heart in her throat. She sucked in air sharply at the sight of Bucky standing in front of her. Her eyes raked over his form, taking in his appearance. He looked good. His skin was bronzed from no doubt being out in the African sun, his hair was pulled back into his signature bun. But his eyes, his eyes were what made her heart soar. No longer did he have the dark bags under his eyes, or the glossed over appearance in his blues. They were crystal clear and staring right back at her with an expression of longing. Y/N’s face burned, and she willed herself to shake off the astonishment and smile.

“Hi.” She said.

“Hi.”

The two didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know where to start. There was a lot that needed to be said, a lot of pain that was between them. Bucky counted to three before inhaling deeply. He waved to the empty spot beside her on the couch.

“Is it oaky for me to sit?” He asked. Y/N nodded and moved over to make more room, tucking her leg to her side and angled to face him. Bucky settled onto the familiar couch, his own matching smile on his face. Y/N knew she missed him when he was gone, but she never realized just how much until he was right there, within reaching distance. She could count his eyelashes, could see the health pink in his cheeks. She missed him so much.

Bucky rubbed a sweaty palm on his jeans and exhaled loudly.

“I uh… I missed you.” He winced at the lame start of a conversation. Thankfully, Y/N didn’t mind. She tilted her head to the side and giggled softly.

“I missed you too.”

Bucky forgot how much he loved her voice. His heart did a funny flip in his chest and it took him all his willpower not to melt into the couch.

“I guess it’s time to address the elephant in the room.” Bucky began. Y/N sat a little straighter, her face dropping to a serious expression. There was no beating around the bush for this one. “There’s nothing I can say to ever express how sorry I am for the horrible way I treated you.”

“Bucky-.”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, his tone firm but gentle. “We can sit here and argue till we’re blue in the face, but I did. I treated you like an object that was mine to keep and hold. I didn’t give you the respect you needed or deserved. I let my fears and insecurities rule my emotions. I thought if I beat them to punch before they could be proven right that I’d win somehow. In the end all it did was hurt the woman I love. And God, I’m so sorry I ever did. You were my rock. You helped me bring me out of my lowest point and I essentially spat in your face.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She glanced down at her hands, listening intently at what Bucky was saying. Bucky, however, was trying to keep his voice from breaking. No amount of therapy could have ever prepared him for difficult this conversation was. It needed to be done, but god if it didn’t sting.

“I don’t know if you could ever forgive me, and quite frankly, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided you never wanted to speak with me again.” Bucky finally said after a moment of silence. Y/N’s head snapped up and her eyes went wide. “I just want you to know, I will never, ever allow myself to become what I was ever again. I can’t say I’m fully healed, don’t think I ever will be, but I can damn well promise you that I will do everything I can to keep from going back. I can’t go back. Not to what I had become.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the tears that swelled to her eyes, the conviction and determination he spoke with shook her to the core. She hadn’t seen him in months, seeing him was overwhelming as it was, but this brought the flood of emotions she’d been keeping inside since the day he left.

He wasn’t the only one who went to therapy. Tony and Steve both agreed, that while Bucky might not have been intentionally abusive, he had toed the line rather closely. Of course, both agreed after a day or two to cool their heads that Bucky never meant her any harm. At least not knowingly. Nevertheless, they wanted to make sure Y/N was okay, that she could talk with someone who knew what they were doing about what she went through. Much like Bucky, Y/N found a little bit of determination to not let things go back to the way they were when he would come back home.

She knew her limits and had control of the voice she was finding in herself when she was with him. Her therapist helped her realized that yes, Bucky did hurt her, but he wasn’t bad. This wasn’t him. He was sick and was getting help. Help he willingly went for. She talked through whatever hidden resentment she had and it helped her see things in a new light. She wasn’t the shy quiet woman from six months ago who was too scared to speak up. Now she found a strength she didn’t know she had and Bucky inadvertently helped her find it.

Even at the end of the day, after talking through everything and working past the hurt, Y/N knew one thing. She still loved him. Fully and completely, she was head over heels in love with the man. If anything, this made her realize just how much she missed and cared about it. How seeing him in pain brought her more agony than she could have ever described. Having him here, in front of her pouring out his heart only made that awareness even stronger.

Reaching to take his hand in hers, Y/N scooted closer so that her side was against his. Bucky held his breath, stunned at how easily she moved against him. He expected her to recoil, to tell him she heard enough and had already decided that this, what they had was history. Yet, when she tilted her head back to stare at him, her eyes shown with love and understanding that Bucky never thought he’d ever deserved. He took in a deep breath, his eyelashes fluttering shut when he took her smell. Warm as honey and sweet with a hint of citrus. She smelt like what home was to him.

“Bucky,” Y/N whispered, leaned forward to press her forehead against his. Bucky hummed and opened his eyes. “You weren’t in your right state of mind, the trauma you went through in your past was still fresh and then when you threw in Vivian and her treatment to you? It was only a matter of time before you snapped. I know that deep down you never would have hurt me, but we didn’t have the tools you need- that we needed to get you through this.”

“I still hurt you though.” Bucky interjected. Y/N sighed softly and nodded, sitting back to see Bucky’s face better.

“You did.” She didn’t argue. Bucky’s shoulders dropped and he turned away. Y/N cupped his cheek, bringing his face back to hers with a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “And I forgave you a long time ago. I could never hold something like this against you. We’ve all had those demons in our heads that do nothing but tell us lies and lead us to become worse than what we really are. I only wish we could have helped you sooner before it turned into what it had.”

“How can you just forgive me so easily?” Bucky asked astonished. Y/N tilted her head to the side the smile stretching across her lips at the shocked look on his face. He really didn’t know.

“It’s simple.” She shrugged. “Because I love you.”

Bucky swore his heart exploded in his chest. The hope he had suppressed sparked to life and began to spread. His therapists told him he was still too hard on himself. It’s not that he didn’t believe them, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up only for them to crash and burn when she’d tell him to leave and never talk to him again. He knew his girl was different, but he really hadn’t thought she was ready to forgive him so soon. The shock hit him, and it was written across his forehead in big bold letters.

“You-.” He stammered, swallowing thickly. “You do?”

“Of course I do.” Y/N laughed and snuggled closer against him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tugged at his neck so she could press her forehead against his. Bucky’s melted in her hold; his eyes fluttering shut on instinct. No matter how long they’ve been apart, his body never forgot how safe he felt when he was around her. When she started to scratch the spot on his neck behind his ear with her nails, Bucky felt a rumble build in his chest and a blissful grin spreading across his lips.

“I’m not saying I’m willing to just jump back into where we were.” Y/N began softly. Bucky tensed, his eyes fluttering open. “Things have to be different if you want us to stay together. And I’m more than willing to work out anything we need to work out to make that happen. I do love you, and I’m sorry if this sounds a little selfish, but I’m not willing to let you go.”

Bucky let out a breathless laugh, gobsmacked. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his sit on his lap. Y/N’s laugh echoed his, a sound he missed hearing the most, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He stared up at her, a light in his eyes that Y/N hadn’t seen in months. She was right of course; this wasn’t going to be swept under the rug and ignored. They had done that for too long before and look where they ended up. He would do whatever he could to show her that there was no going back to six months ago. That Bucky was a thing of the past. Things were going to be different and for the better.

“To be completely honest, I wasn’t willing to let you go either,” Bucky whispered softly. “But I sure as hell wasn’t going to force you to stay with me if you decided you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Oh really?” Y/N smirked. “Just like that? You’d walk away and that be that?”

“Yeah.” Bucky answered truthfully. “If you told me right now you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, that you wanted me to get out of your life, I’d leave. No questions asked.”

“What? Really?” Y/N inhaled sharply.

“Yeah. I mean, it would hurt like hell, but I wouldn’t want to be the reason for your discomfort. Not anymore.”

Y/N stared down at him, the tears starting to well in her eyes for the second time that night. Bucky frowned, cupping her cheek and brushing the stray tear with his thumb.

“I mean it.” Bucky murmured softly. “You mean everything to me. If you give me another chance, I swear, I will make up for all the shit I put you through and then some.”

Y/N’s stared intently, a little crease starting to form between her brows. Slowly, a smile stretched on her face and she chuckled softly. Leaning forward, Y/N brushed her nose against him and tightened her arms around his neck. Bucky’s breath hitched and his grip around her waist tightened while his smile grew to match her own.

“Then I guess you better start making up Barnes. Cause I’m not letting you go.” Y/N whispered breathlessly against his lips before closing the gap. Fireworks exploded and a rush of euphoria swept over Bucky. He returned the kiss with equal vigor, savoring the taste and feel of his girl against him.

He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this, a woman who loved him despite all his faults and sins, but he wasn’t going to mess this up. Not ever again.

What Have I Done Tag List: (CLOSED)

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Let me know if I missed you, the strike means I can’t tag you for some reason.)

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 7/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Sorry in advance, but this chapter is kinda short. But we do get more conflict, more drama. 3 more chapters! Who's pumped? No one.

TW FOR THIS CHAPTER: Brief blood mentions.

2020

Remember how I said I was on a journey towards happiness? In the beautiful world of Brianna Caldwell, life said, "Nah."

The next day, it was apparent that things were only getting worse.

"Ed Sheeran is still on board," Joey stated matter-of-factly. He crossed his arms, the safety visor making a rustling sound as he did so.

He was joined by Nina, Alex, and Michael. A few of the lab team were at their desks, trying to ignore the current confrontation, including Jujubee.

She looked as if she wasn't paying attention to the ordeal, but I knew Jujubee like the back of my hand, and she was listening. I couldn't help but want her to speak up and help me out here. But she hadn't spoken to me since the day before.

"Yeah, he is." I put my hands on my hips, standing at the front of the lab, while Joey and his friends sat there and looked up at me.

"Why, though?" Joey continued to question.

"God, we already had this discussion," I spoke quietly, looking to the side for some sort of distraction.

"Yeah, but you said you'd figure something out." Nina input.

"Yeah, you did." Alex joined in. I glanced at Jujubee in the hopes she'd join the conversation. Her eyes remained on the chemical she was working with.

"Why did you choose him in the first place? Why not…" Michael paused, deciding to join the argument, "Bill Nye...or someone who actually has an interest in Space and Science."

"Yeah, for real. Like, you do realise that in years to come, when kids read about 'Neil Armstrong - the first man on the moon, they're gonna flip the page and see 'Ed Sheeran, confirmed the first man to enter another dimension.'" Alex added.

"Like, how do you even explain Ed Sheeran as a choice?" Nina held a hand out in questioning.

I finally found a crack and slipped back into the conversation, "Because your project manager is a disaster when she's drunk and makes stupid choices without even thinking."

"We know, Brie. You were drunk." Joey rolled his eyes like he was tired of hearing the same story.

"Maybe you should stop drinking." Alex squinted his eyes.

"Yeah, we don't wanna go there, but maybe this is a problem," Michael added to the point.

My eyes were becoming wider with every word they were saying. This was absolutely ridiculous. Again, I was hoping Jujubee would argue back, but she remained silent.

Nina, however, was the one to interject, "Jesus, guys. You're taking it a bit too far." She stood up and gathered her lab coat, "Look, we all do dumb shit when we're drunk. She's not a mess, OK?"

Joey laughed. I held back from calling him out for the time that I caught him hiding in the closet playing Candy Crush for an hour.

"Well, even so, she should take this into consideration," Alex suggested.

"And do what?" I unfolded my arms and held them out by my side, "call him and say 'JK, Ed. It was just a joke, Ed.'"

"Girl, you're the one who got us into this mess. You figure it out." Alex raised his voice. How very fair of him. I was the one who had to deal with this problem, yet they were the only ones who seemed to care.

"Mess is a bit of a harsh term." Nina pointed out.

"Exactly, there is no mess here. Juju and I have already figured this out," my gaze shifted towards her again, hoping the mention of her name would cause a reaction. Nothing, "So I'd appreciate it if I could stop getting all this flack. I don't need flack from you," I pointed at Joey, "I don't need flack from you," next, at Alex, "or you," then Michael, and I moved my finger in Nina's direction, "or...Jesus Christ, you're having a nose bleed."

Nina's hand flew straight up to her nose, pulling away and examining the red liquid. "Oh, my Lord!"

She tried wiping it. But more blood poured out like a faucet that had been slowly turned on.

"Can you just...get out of here and get that cleaned up?" It sounded bitchy. But I was panicking. I never did well with blood. Therefore I looked away and hid my face.

"Thanks for helping, boss." Joey practically snarled, handing Nina a bunch of tissues. Like hungry wolves following the scent of the blood, the 3 men followed her out of the room, Joey still scorning at me as he left.

It was just me and the other scientists left in the room.

I turned and moved to one of the counters, picking up screws and bolts as if I was actually interested in them. But I couldn't ignore the presence of my best friend.

Hearing shuffling, I turned. She was standing up and gathering her things.

"Juju." I approached her.

She only quickened the packing up process.

Reaching her bench, she was already turned in the direction of the door, "Juju, are you just gonna ignore me all day?"

Finally, she looked at me, adjusting her bag strap, "There's nothing to say."

"Oh really? Well, you can decide to drop me as a friend, but you're still working for me, so we need to communicate."

"OK," Jujubee shrugged, "Well, what do you need to discuss with me that's work-related?"

She got me there. Licking my lips, I breathed out with a quick sigh. "OK, look, last night, we didn't end on a good note. I'm not saying I was wrong, and neither were you. Can you just please set that aside and talk to me?"

She squinted her eyes. "So, I'm supposed to just let the problem keep building?"

"Juju!" I briefly raised my voice, a few of the other scientists glanced in our direction. Jujubee looked uneasy now. So I lowered my tone again. "OK. I'm just gonna say it. I fucked up. I fucking...wrote her a creepy message, and I don't know what to do, and I have no one to talk to about it."

She let out a sarcastic laugh, "You're still looking to use me as your therapist. You learned nothing from what I said, Brianna."

I was silent, incapable of speaking anything else.

She looked away to the ground, "This is taking up my lunchtime."

And with that, she moved to the door, the sound of her heels like a clock ticking down.

"Juju, what can I do?" I held my hands out by my sides. "How am I going to make you satisfied?"

With a hand opening the door, she was frozen for a moment. I thought she would have walked on and ignored me. But she looked over her shoulder and said, "When you realise she's not the one who cares about you."

She left the room, pulling the door closed. The noise caused me to flinch.

I turned around her words in my head.

Two of the scientists were whispering, one glancing at me. I felt my chest become tight. "Hey. This isn't a social gathering. Get back to work."

Despite their astonishment, they moved away from each other anyway.

I instantly felt like a bitch. Technically yeah, it was my job to keep everyone working. But I rarely raised my voice.

I left the room, seeking peace and quiet.

Sitting in my chair, I held my hands in my head, staring at the redwood desk. Moments like these should have felt like a luxury, just sitting there, relaxing. But my mind was racing with too many thoughts.

I had no idea what I could do to make amends with Jujubee. But I could try and sort this Ed Sheeran problem.

Loading up my emails, I opened the thread with Ed Sheeran (which was actually only 3 messages and most likely with his manager).

I hit reply and started typing.

'Listen, Ed. There's been an issue…'

No.

'Dear Mr Ed Sheeran, we regret to inform you…'

'Hello, Ed. It's Brianna from…'

'Ed, big fan of the work, but…'

I squeezed my eyes shut, already feeling exhausted, like each press of the backspace button represented a loss of a brain cell.

For all the achievements I had earned throughout the years, for all the accomplishments, why the fuck was this so damn hard?

The telephone rang, causing me to jolt. A sigh left my lips as I tried to breathe. Pressing the speaker, I said, "Jackie, what's up?"

Jackie, my receptionist, spoke, "Hey, honey. Your Mom's on line 2."

My hand clenched around my pen, already feeling that familiar sense of dread.

"OK, thank you," I spoke quieter.

I hesitated for a moment before finally clicking line 2.

"Hi, Mom," I uttered.

"Hi, baby." She said quietly. "How are you?"

"Fine." I lied. "Nothing really new here. How about you?"

"All good…" she sighed, then paused briefly, "Actually no. Things aren't good. I...lost my job. The usual, they found someone better. And I've been trying so hard to find a job."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, and on top of that," she sighs again, "Brie, honey, there is no easy way to say this; Piggie's sick."

My breath caught in my throat, but I tried to remain calm. "What's wrong with him?"

"They said it's Lyme disease, Brianna. I...I don't know what's going to happen." Her voice cracked.

"Look, don't worry. I'm gonna send you money right now. It should cover the bills. He'll be - -"

"No, I didn't call you to ask for money." She said quickly, "I was just wondering...I know you're busy and everything…"

Fuck. My eyes squeezed together, hand tightening around the phone.

"But...I would love to see you. It's been nearly a year now." Her tone softened.

And immediately, I wanted to say no. Considering the circumstances, a visit would fuck with my head. Seeing Piggie, my emotional support through teenagehood would crush me.

"You there, baby?" She asked.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"I just...I don't want to be alone. What if the medical treatment fails? I'm gonna have no one, Brianna. I don't want that." She pauses again, and my chest tightens, tears filling my eyes. "Brie, baby, please come."

I can hear the pain in her voice. But I can't help but feel that sense of fear, the anxiety.

"Don't leave me alone to deal with this, please. I'm at my lowest. And I don't know if I could do it all by - -"

I hit 'end call'.

I put the phone back and rested my head in my hands.

I knew this was my fault - our strained relationship. I could only see that now, how emotionally unstable I was. That sounds like a joke, right? I just didn't expect it to be this bad.

Nothing was getting better.

-_-_-_-_-_-

2004

I threw my bag in the back seat before climbing in the front. My hair was soaked from the rain. I literally just ran from the school to Mom's car, not even outside for that long, yet so much rain.

I said nothing, only rubbed my hands together to keep warm.

"So, the schools flooded?" Mom asked.

"Yeah."

"The whole school?" She looked past me and to the building, an eyebrow raised. "It doesn't look that bad."

"It's just the shop classes and cafeteria, to be honest." I put my hands between my thighs to make the warming up process happen quicker.

"That's a bit unnecessary to send you all home."

"Yeah, well, I'm not complaining."

Mom fired up the engine, and we were set for home. There was a moment of silence that fell among us. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But when she turned the radio down, I knew we were in for a discussion.

"That's not the only thing the school called me about today." She started.

"Oh?" I looked out the window. I don't know why but I assumed they had finally exposed me for smoking around the back of the building. But it was doubtful as I had stopped during the Summer.

"They're concerned about you, Brie." And so was she, now that I could hear it in her tone. "Your grades have only gotten better the slightest amount."

"Well, I can't just go from a C to an A in a matter of days." I still looked out the window. "And besides, I'm staying behind every other day for extra studying."

"Are you sure you're not just flaking and hanging out with Jujubee instead?" There it was, the accusatory tone.

I looked at her now. "No? And if it makes you feel better, you can call her Mom and ask. How's that sound?" I scoffed, "God, I don't need this. Not like I'm dealing with enough at school anyway."

"Well," she was silent for a moment as if daring herself to speak again, "Not that I'd know, I mean, you don't really open up to me about school."

"Yeah, because there's nothing you can do about it." Was I wrong? What could she do? Barge into the school with a gramophone and yell, 'Stop picking on my daughter!'

"About what?"

I rolled my eyes, "Doesn't matter. I don't wanna talk about it."

I could practically feel the way she held back from rolling her eyes.

"Well, the only other thing I can think of is that you're too focused on all this space stuff." She sounded more irked now. "You need to focus on your future, not all this make-believe crazy conspiracy theory shit."

"Oh, that crazy conspiracy theory shit that my Grandpa enjoyed?" My tone was slowly raising.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm saying your Grandpa didn't make a living sitting around and fantasising about all of this stuff. He knew the difference between having a career and having a dream."

"Well, God, not like my interest hasn't got a thing to do with my future prospects, Mom. No. Who would have thought." The sarcasm was thick in my voice.

"Whatever it is you're striving towards, it sounds more like a dream to me. You need a more stable plan." Mom flicked the indicator quite aggressively.

"Oh my God," I laughed, "That's hilarious. You have no idea what I'm striving towards. You can't even tell me what it is."

"Does it matter??"

"Just shows how much you give a shit about me, right, Mom?"

We pulled up to a red light to Mom's delight because she pulled the handbrake.

"How dare you." She seethed, "How dare you speak to me like that. I have done nothing but give a shit about you all these years. I have been there for you, every nervous breakdown, every time you wanted to cry but wouldn't, every time you needed your Mother the most. I was the best Mother I could be because I know that deep down you were hurting." Her voice cracks. "I know that you struggled for so long, what with your parents and all, but I've done all I can to give you what they couldn't. I held you. I loved you. But now, what I'm getting back is this...attitude. All I did, Brie, was express my concern, and you immediately went on the defence." She paused again before lowering her tone, "And I know you want to hold on to this space stuff, so you don't lose someone else. And I know you're in pain. But is this actually what Grandpa would have wanted??"

We held each other's gaze for another moment before the light finally turned red. She started driving again.

But I wasn't done. "Really? All of that and for what, Mom? God, you have no idea what Grandpa wanted for me. If only you knew what he asked of me when he was lying in his deathbed."

"And what was that?" She raised a brow.

"It doesn't matter." I crossed my arms and was back to looking out the window.

"Of course." She stated.

"Just...stop, please. My grades will be better. Now, we're done having this conversation."

I could feel her seething, the heat of her anger radiating through the cramped vehicle. But she said no more.

Not even for the rest of the night.

[spnfanficpond]

June 2020 Angel Fish Awards

(New Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle @mrswhozeewhatsis or Mana @manawhaat to check and make sure we got your submission.

Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for tumblr tagging purposes!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE JUNE’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nonimated by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters

I Thought You Were Going To Die (oneshot) by @fun-and-fandoms

My nominations for the month wouldn’t be complete without a little bit of angst. Though this one isn’t just that. If you’re easily triggered by mentions of depression and its symptoms, this one’s not for you. But it’s an important topic and I will always encourage any creator who uses their art to remind people it’s okay to talk about it. (Note from Kale, this was actually submitted in May but I missed it.) 

More to Me (oneshot) by @becs-bunker

No spoilers, but I’m so glad this ended the way it did. So sweet <3

Help  (oneshot) by @blushingjared

I came across this fic and was immediately intrigued. Then I started reading and I was captivated from the first sentence until the very last. The author did such a good job with setting the scene and painting the right picture.

Talking Bodies (oneshot) by @ne-gans

This AU-Sam is such a huge weakness of mine. That, in combination with this dangerously filthy masterpiece, is nothing short of perfection.

Nominated by @focusonspn

Into The Woods (series) by @amanda-teaches

So well written, interesting plot and great development. The chemistry between Y/N and Dean is also amazing, and I loved how this mini-series could be so easily part of the show. Totally worth reading.

Nominated by @thoughtslikeamindfield 

Stranger Than FanFiction (series) by @cherry3point14

The premise is similar to the film Stranger Than Fiction – a story about a story being written about you – and it’s just as hilarious. Also, Cherry Pie is still one of the funniest writers in this corner of SPN fandom.

“You’re not supposed to move your head if there’s someone trying to murder you, probably…”

No, I wouldn’t think so, but lollllll

“You’re being insane, out loud.”

Omgggg

“It tried, oh, how the door tried to divert her attention from the unknown men who could be terrible, rule-breaking influences on her. However the door was only wood and she was a stubborn woman made of free will and limbs—a woman who refused to be deceived.”

“Your hand is on the doorknob before the mention of your limbs has finished rattling around your head.  Realistically you don’t want to encourage the voice by doing what it says. After all, the voice’s ultimate goal seems to be killing you.”

BAHAHAHAH omfg you guys

I need to stop quoting from this bc I probably seem insane to those of you who haven’t read this, so stop being judgy buttheads and go read!

Nominated by @flamencodiva

The Choice (series) by @superfanficnatural

A couple of things. 1) this is an amazing fic that highlights Dean unwillingness to let himself go until it’s almost too late. and 2) the smut in this is hot hot hot hot! not for anyone under 18 years of age.

Mert has a way with words and can literally pluck you into one and make you see it as it comes to life in your head.

Mine (series) by @holylulusworld

Lulu has an abundance of different stories she tells and this one is my favorite of her ABO’s at the moment. (although I love all of them) I think this one deserved a mention. I am glad she joined to Pond so I could help nominate and spread her amazing work!

One Night at a Time (series) by @crashdevlin

Another great fic by Cassie! This one shot full of Angst, Smut, and if you squint just the right amount of Dean fluff. She has a way of capturing your attention and putting you in the world as you read.

What He Lost (oneshot) by @jensengirl83

This short story by Brandy is sure to rip your heart out. she leaves just a bit of hope where you think there is a chance only to crush it completely with the ending. This one is sure to bring you to tears if you are looking for the most delicious angsty story to read.

Nominated by @risingpheonix761

Down The Rabbit Hole (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

So, this was hysterical. XD I love crack fics, and bad smut in particular, and this one hits the spot. (I’ve also learned several new horrible euphemisms lol). The ending, though? Golden!

Nominated by @myinconnelly1

The Affair (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I love how well all the characters are portrayed I truly hate everyone except the reader! Well done!!  

Red Riding Hood - or how you ran into a wolf... (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I have nothing to say about this. I will simply allow the puddle I have become to speak for me. 

Last Omega On Earth (oneshot) by @holylulusworld 

This was a great entry in the ABO world. and we need more of this and more like !!!!! Great work!

My Beta (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I am a greedy little bitch with this fic.  I think I've read it 3-4 since i first read it this month!!!!!! READ THIS FIC!  

Third Period (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

Some truly inspiring smut.  Inspiring to change my panties. 

Gods of Twilight (series) by @thecleverdame​

I think i posted this fic in my rec before, but it is so amazing and intricate that i can't stop gushing about it.  Fucking awesome. 

Apple Pie (oneshot) by @bad268​ 

The amazingness of this is great, check this guppy out!

Deal (oneshot) by @bad268 

Comedy at some of its's finest!!! 

Confession (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

THE FLUFFFFFFF!!!! I don't read straight fluff.  So get the tissues ready.

Fallen (series) by idreamofplaid

My therapist has told me i'm not longer allowed to talk about this fic during our sessions.  So instead i shall now talk about it here... *pulls out soapbox* ahem... *gets pulled away with hook*

Memory (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

This fic is older, but i love it so much.  I recently went back and reread it, and the angst and reconciliation in this fic are heartwrenching.

Home (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

My dentist bill the month was higher than normal, due to the new cavities caused by this fic.

Imperfectly Yours (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Cuteness overload as you get Dean's perspective of Home ^^

Second Hand News (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Alright listen. I am a glutton for punishment.  And this fic, I asked for.  Also i had it set within one of the universes we now own.  That all being said, reading this was like a dose of my own medicine and it fucking hurt.

Honesty And Lies (oneshot) by @crashdevlin

This was super dirty, and great.  Totally recommend. 

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

The Classifieds (oneshot) by @talesmaniac89

This is rip your heart out and stomp on it angst right here. So well written, but so, so heartbreaking.

So Much More Than Perfect (oneshot) by @imagineteamfreewill

This fic is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read. It made me tear up a bit, but who doesn’t love Dean being the most protective, most adorable dad ever?!

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

Dear Dean (series) by @smol-and-grumpy

It’s one of those series that makes you wants more after every chapter. It’s a brilliant story.

Left Behind (series) by @kittenofdoomage

It’s the only John Fic I can read over and over and over again. Its hot, the plot is awesome! And it makes me wants more each and every time I read it.

Not Much Left (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

I think Beka tries to kill her readers every time she writes smut… or she just tap into our mind what we want or what we fantasize about. Every single time I’m speechless by her talents!

Yes Professor (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

It’s a Misha fic, there’s no one who write Misha the way Beka does!!!

Owe You One (series) by @supernatural-jackles

It’s such a great series! The friends with Benefit and Mechanic!Dean… I just love this so much and I don’t have words to describe how good this one is!!

Flirty In French (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

This is brilliant, and I know its an old one, but from someone who finally decided to read more and from someone who is from Quebec, this is absolutely brilliant! The flirty french pick up line are so hilarious!

Nominated by @moosekateer13

Watching for Comets (series) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully captures the song that it was inspired by.

It also showcases things that when things are meant to be.

I’ll will all fall into place.

Please Trust Me (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully emotionally captures what it’s like to have trust issues.

Nominated by @fictionalabyss

Last Call (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer 

It was everything we needed and wanted.

Culinary Exploits (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer  

Too utterly ridiculous not to get a mention.

His Omega (oneshot) by @iflostreturntosteverogers 

A sweet little comfort fic of Dean being utterly perfect caring for his Omega. Carrie also pulled off keeping this gender neutral, which isn’t something I see a lot of, and probably something I’d struggle with, so hats off to you, babe.

Poison (oneshot) by @supernatural-jackles 

YES omg i feel this on such a level. I’ve gone through that shit myself. A friend who lets you down so profoundly but then acts as if you’re the most toxic person in the world.  Nothing feels as good as letting go of that shit and moving on to better things. This was beautiful, and perfect, and TRUTH.

Amara (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer  

This one hurt. It really hurt, but it hurt so good that I’m left wanting more.

Take Me Now (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87  

If Dawn doesn’t continue this, I’ll riot.

Stuck On You (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage  

I rarely read a fic this long (I just don’t usually have the time) but it looked too interesting for me to scroll past, and it had me completely captivated. I needed to know what would happen as if I needed air, even though I could guess how it ended, I needed to read the words. Phenomenal.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!