#out of state-ers drive better challenge

[leverage-ot3]

best total eclipse photos

also yall I literally got the camera safety film it just didn’t work 😭😭😭 unfortunately I didn’t get the best videos but I had a lot of fun!

meme-ish pics under the cut

[mineofilms]

Medical Update Fall 2023

As most of you know, I am sick… I have been sick for the better part of a decade now. I suspect my diabetic state started in the spring of 2012, I embarked on a journey, albeit an involuntary one, into the mysterious realm of diabetes. Little did I know that this path would be riddled with bizarre encounters that would rival a Greek tragedy. The only tragedy here is my life. The only one hurting here is myself. The people around me continue to suffer. I wasn’t officially diagnosed till summer of 2014 and almost right away my condition broke all the rules of a typical type II diabetic case. Everyone is now an expert on diabetes, how it works and how it “allegedly,” can be reversed. I believe unresolved extreme depression in my youth, that I ignored, and was also ignored by adults that would observe my erratic, sometimes insane, behaviors, contributed to my drinking habits becoming more intensive over the 2000s through the last decade. My father, who is a Vietnam Vet, was exposed to Agent Orange when he served, that has caused many of his ongoing health issues. I, being the first born of four boys, have the most physical, medical, mental health challenges in the family. Along with large amounts of stress in the workplace(s) over the years, I believe this had much to do with me becoming diabetic. I do not believe this was “just” habits. I believe all of which I just stated equally contributed to the condition. I also believe these same mental health issues caused me to ignore these issues as they crept up over the decades.

The summer of 2014, a season marked not by sunshine and leisure beach days, but by my official diagnosis with Type II Diabetes, as my eyes were being aggressively attacked by cataract in both eyes, simultaneously. As my left eye began its cataract performance in July 2014, I couldn't help but think, "Why should it have all the fun?" One day in October 2014 my right eye decided to join the party. It started mid-afternoon and by nightfall, it was a full house, and I found myself enjoying a riveting 90% blindness experience in my right eye. Quite the spectacle, indeed. I am not even sure how I was able to drive home like this. I was treated to double cataract surgery later in the month, and I began to notice the birth of denial issues. Denial is a peculiar companion, isn't it? A few more treatments, some ER visits, and an unexpected DUI later, I was spiraling down a rabbit hole that showed no signs of slowing.

They say truth is stranger than fiction, and in my case, its stranger than the upside-down dimension of “Stranger Things.” My personality became very difficult to deal with during this time, even worse now. I became way more confrontational with people, in general, especially those in the workplace and more withdrawn with people that were close to me. From 2005 to present I have probably had about 30-35 jobs that I was either terminated from or walk out of. Outside of three weeks in November of 2019. I have not worked a job on the books since November 2017. In July 2017, my debut as a “cellulitis connoisseur,” specializing in right middle finger infections. There goes my “go-to butt-holing finger,” I say to myself. The inside of my finger tip was surgically removed, as my blood sugar frolicked in the 500+ range. My reward for this adventure? Eight luxurious days in Sarasota’s finest ICU, replete with liquid IV antibiotics. It's almost as if they knew I needed a vacation. At least the food was amazing. No, seriously… The food at Sarasota Memorial is better than most of the restaurants in the area. I’d take a girl to the hospital cafeteria for a date before I take her to P.F. Sucks.

In September 2017, a torn L4 in my lower back. It hurt, especially when I dared to stand upright for more than a few hours. The cool kids may have partied through the night, but my nights were filled with discomfort as I struggled to find the perfect sleep position. October 2018, a time when my face decided to sprout a skin boil. A trip to the local clinic gifted me an antibiotic, and within days, it vanished like a female sex addict at an ED anonymous meeting. Super Bowl Sunday of 2020’s treat, cellulitis in my left eye, no treatment available to unemployed assclowns who think toughing everything out like a Rocky movie montage should be normal for anyone. Who needs a halftime show when you have your eye acting up? And oh, the blurry vision, a recurring guest in my line of sight. As the world descended into quarantine-madness, then gender madness now Jewish/Muslim madness, I consoled myself with heavier, three-day weekend drinking. My personal remedy for the absurdity that was 2020. Then, on a seemingly innocuous day in June 2020, I embarked on a stranger-danger date with Covid-19 at a beachside bar/restaurant in St. Pete meeting some girl for the first time I no longer talk to. A tequila shot, the harbinger of a migraine headache to try and make this seem like a good idea at the time. With a stroke of luck, I was graced with mono-like symptoms and embarked on a rollercoaster ride of wellness and illness that was Covid-19, which then turned to ketoacidosis and pancreatitis.

I have yet to fully recover from this 1,151 days later and counting…

Alcohol Intake was rather high starting in February 2020 due to the quarantine already. I have not had a drink since that day. I have sworn off Alcohol for life. Diabetic Ketoacidosis and Pancreatitis is a reminder of a symphony of sickness, weakness, and a relentless dance between my digestive system, gravity itself and death if not treated right away. I waited six days... Not even the bravest of souls would dare to eat or drink when everything returned as bile, blood and partially digested pancreas within the hour. July 11th, 2020, marked a visit to the ER. With Covid-19 as my not-so-welcome companion, I spent 36 hours in the ICU. Morphine ensured that I had no recollection of this enchanting stay, but it left me with a positive test for Covid-19. It was the Liver-Pancreas Shutdown Spectacular – a show I didn't even know I had VIP tickets for.

Come July 15th 2020, I was set free, proving that even the most peculiar of odysseys have a pause button. Pause is subjective… A brief intermission before Macular Edema decided to join the ensemble, debuting in both my eyes on July 18th 2020. The drama continued with eye doctor appointments, blurred vision, erratic heart rate and a spectacle fit for a thriller. By August 14th 2020, I dared to venture out into the world after months of seclusion. It wasn't without its challenges; anxiety clung to me like a shadow, and the weight on my chest was a constant reminder of the strangeness of human interaction. My chest felt like a pressure cooker about to burst. September 2020 was a month when I had the pleasure of being denied the SSI benefits that I not only need but absolutely qualify for. My lawyers took it upon themselves to embark on an appeals journey that promised more excitement than I had bargained for. I am still in appeals now 1,100+ days later.

I now have rather high anxiety that began sometime in 2015-2016. It is a complete polar opposite of who I used to be before this all started. In March 2016 ED (Erectile Dysfunction) began to rear its debilitating appearance. I have not just had to deal with the physical effects of ED this whole time but the mental and emotional issues as well. I feel this has hit me harder than the physical parts. I would have considered myself a hypersexual personality, nice way of saying sex addict. I will keep the specifics of those exploits to a minimum till I can figure out how to make money off those, ha… To go from “that” to nothing in such a short time really catapulted my anxiety and depression. Which in turn drove me to drink more from 2016-2020, which contributed to this whole mess. I am also dealing with extreme fatigue since I feel I originally caught Covid-19 and in nearly a constant state of physical pain in the form of extreme muscle aches. I am experiencing pain near 5-6 on the 10-scale almost 24/7. I am also experiencing issues in the heat when I go outside. I can only be outside for a few minutes before I feel sick. I can be out there when it is hot, but I tend to fatigue very quickly, and am sort of weak when out in the extreme humidity of SWFL. I still take strolls in the nature trails by my house five days a week.

December 2021 came with its own package of surprises, as I decided to halt treatments on my eyes at Retina Associates of Sarasota. It turns out I didn't have the insurance for laser surgery, a small detail that seemed to have escaped their notice. In 2022, Hurricane IAN decided to add its unique chapter to my saga, bringing heavy damage to my house which has yet to be paid out by the insurance company for repairs to the house. We are talking over a year with no pool cage. Warped doors, drywall damage, damaged floor tile, the pool tile is bubbling up on the deck as well. It’s a shitshow of damages that the insurance company wants NO accountability for but they want their monies every month or they will drop us. It’s a goddamn clown-show of poop… Just another day in the life of a medically sick, mental-health crackpot thrill-seeker, I suppose.

A second helping of denial came around the corner to my life in and around November 2022, The SSI appeal, a never-ending quest, proved elusive yet again. May 2023, I waded into the realm of diabetes treatments with Virginia B Andes. With a dash of irony, June 2023 welcomed the flu into my life, and I found myself on the brink of another ER visit due to my stubborn inability to recover. June and July 2023 became a blur of sickness and health, interspersed with ten days of respite. Mid-July 2023 I decided to take charge of my medication, straying from the beaten path of standard treatment. I've never been one for conformity, and my body has made that abundantly clear. With meticulous record-keeping of my blood sugar, insulin doses, and other metrics, I presented a case against metformin, which not only failed to tame my sugars but left my stomach and digestion in turmoil. Right now my digestive issues seem to be what stand out the most on my day to day issues. They are quite extreme. The constant pain I get in all my joints and muscles. The stiffness. I spend more time stretching out than I do actually training my body. If I didn’t train I feel my condition would be worse for both my physical health and my mental health. My experimentation with regular insulin led to sporadic sugar crashes, a thrilling rollercoaster ride. One literally feels their perception leaving the body. Things like sight turn to tunnel vision and seem distant. The ability to think gets super scattered and cannot even remember basic things like age/weight/sex. A brief stint with 70/30 insulin emerged as the unlikely wannabe hero, providing some better stability. September 2023, Happy 45th birthday to me and I found myself marveling at the subtle changes in my eye power (again). Perhaps a visit to the eye doctor was in order, as the nearest treatment was a distant trek to Bonita Springs, which is anywhere between 90-120-minute drive; an adventure I am not willing to venture in.

October 2023 brought with it a new challenge - the need to convey my peculiar case to the higher-ups at Virginia B Andes. My goal? To secure a semblance of stability and a well-thought-out plan to navigate around this medical labyrinth. Right now I have a candle and I need a mag light… Simultaneously, I began re-seeking help for my mental health, an issue that had been overshadowed by the medical circus. This one subject should be a blog on its own and I feel I will write one. The short version is I had an amazing therapist who truly understood my quirks than any woman I ever dated or was with. Sadly she unexpectedly passed away. She was young, healthy, vibrant, and was the most important female in my reality besides my mother for nearly two years. I have yet to really hash this out properly. I have yet to mourn her passing. Too much happening around me that literally made me not think of it and that in and of it itself is terrible. Empathy is something I struggle with, heavily since I became ill over a decade ago. I get sicker, the more my quality of life shrinks, the less space in my soul exists for such things as empathy…

In the realm of analyzing the data that comes across my perception. I've come to my own conclusions about my condition(s). A history of unresolved depression, coupled with the chaotic dance of alcohol, stress, genetic deposition of what my father was exposed to, me being the first born, and perhaps sheer bad luck, led me to the doorstep of diabetes. This journey transformed me from an affable soul into a confrontational, withdrawn figure, navigating a sea of instability with employment, love, being a mature adult. I waved goodbye to my job market presence in 2017, save for a three-week stint in 2019. A sudden increase in alcohol consumption during the quarantine heightened my anxiety, propelling me to change into a polar opposite of my former self. My already borderline-mental health issues. The extreme complications I have had with my diabetic state over others that have to deal with it and the specter of erectile dysfunction became my companions, wreaking havoc on my mental and emotional well-being. In the vast landscape of my current medical issues, I find myself engulfed in a never-ending battle with Type II Diabetes, retinopathy, diabetic ketoacidosis, pancreatitis, neuropathy, PTSD, bipolar disorder, and the silent agony of erectile dysfunction. Gastroparesis has thrown digestion into disarray, leaving behind a messy trail of stomach pains and a self-consciousness I never wanted to be or have to begin with. Finally, let's not forget the chronophobia or the fear/anxiety of the passage of time and never feeling like I have enough of it – an affliction that gnaws at my sanity with the relentless march of time, casting a perpetual shadow of dread over my existence.

—I Go Through This Every Day—

My cocktails of various medications, that seem to not work how they are supposed or at least get minimal effects of that could rival the most complex mixology of drinks at your, local, now closed for good, TGI Friday’s. We have the dynamic duo of 70/30 and long-lasting insulin, along with a hint of Lisinopril and a sprinkle of Amlodipine. Not to forget the Polyethylene Glycol, a singer that never quite matches up with the lip-sync on the stage. My supplement list includes Omega-Three Fish Oil, Vitamin D, and Probiotics, all served in generous helpings. A nightly dose of Melatonin and sound-frequency therapy ensures that my dreams are as complex and either relatable or unreliable as my medical journey has been. Should be noted that I informed ALL Doctors for over a decade now, not to treat me like “a typical type-II diabetic” case. That ALL treatments that are typical or standard would be ineffective. Late July 2023, I brought in my data that I keep for my numbers. I record my blood sugar, the type and amount of insulin I take, the date/time I do this. I do this for each meal. I also take my weight, fasted in the A.M. and my Sys/Dia/PR, along with the time I do that. I take and log this data into a spreadsheet three to four times a day. I was able to show that metformin does nothing for me and destroys my stomach, which I already suffer from Gastroparesis, which is still very persistent and we are not even sure if this is that or something else. I have never gotten a solid diagnosis. I was able to show that taking regular insulin tend to put me in hypo (extremely low blood sugar). The only thing at this point that has shown to control my blood sugar numbers is taking a light dose of 70/30 with each meal. A shot of Long Lasting insulin from 10-15 units, once in the AM and once at night around the bedtime hour. This has also caused hypo, but far less frequent and usually happens if I eat a really small meal that is on the extremely low end on the carb scale. If I eat normal I am fine, but there are those times when I get mentally overwhelmed and do not eat enough to justify the amount of insulin I just took. I intended to eat more or a bigger carb meal but would lose my thoughts, get overwhelmed, frustrated and eat small, only to have to eat something I shouldn’t later to get my sugars back up. I probably need a pump but I cannot handle having that on/in my body at all times. I just can’t do it.

Since the beginning I have never been able to get my blood sugars under control with standardized medicines for the treatment of Type II diabetes. Curving my diet works, some, but it is not something I can do under my current living situation on a regular basis. We tried all the standard or typical treatments for people showing the symptoms I show. What tends to be most people does not apply to me. I have the data to show this. Metformin didn’t work in 2014. Granted we can argue that my drinking could have been at play there, but we later, again, tried this treatment in 2022 after I have already been sober for 2 years. We had different direct results but the same result as it did nothing to regulate my blood sugar. All we found out was metformin makes me sick. If I mix it with drinking I get sleep paralysis and I being “taken” by shadow people. So, yeah, hard pass on that one… Where most Type II diabetics float around the low 200s I was in the three and four hundreds. All it did was further agitate my digestive system. That seems to be getting worse by the month. We then tried regular insulin and my sugars would crash around that 3-times a week mark. We shifted the insulin to 70/30 and that worked a little but only if I took it with all meals or any time I sat down to eat. If that was twice, three or four times a day. That is when I would need to dose up.

May to June of 2023; the Doctor puts me on one dose of Long Lasting insulin followed by regular insulin with each meal and metformin. I went back to crashing out my sugars again now with additional stomach issues. I spent nearly all of June and July of 2023 sick. During this time I wasn’t eating a lot, so I would not take my meds if I was not eating. I noticed some of the symptoms were relieving themselves. I then started subtracting medicines. I went back on the 70/30 taking it with all meals and decided to split up the long lasting insulin shot to see if it would curve down these sugar spikes. The attempt here is take those sharp spikes and try to make them more like hills than drastic sharp points. After I did this I started noticing my numbers leveling off to more consistent normal numbers. I started feeling better. I started feeling better enough to join a gym. I still have extreme stomach issues. However, taking the meds for that like how I am doing it the symptoms are not as bad. They are still severe, painful, messy and a bother; but it is no longer nearing the levels of discomfort as I had before where I was about to go to the ER again. I am not saying I am doing better. I’d say I am doing “less worse” than I was in say June and July of 2023. When I am having issues I am still fairly useless, in extreme discomfort and the mess it makes in the bathroom is disheartening. I know we are limited at what sort of treatment I can get through my current medical accessibility. I am grateful for what Virginia B Andes all do for me. I just wish my SSI (Supplemental Security Income) would go through so that I can get a better stability and understanding on what it is that is actually happening to me here. I feel like something else is at play here that NO ONE has been able to figure out. In EVERY instance I have to argue with medical people about the most typical answer here, the one that ALL medical people seem to keep projecting onto me, is indeed, the wrong one… I have no expectations that I will convey this to anyone that can actually look into this at the level it needs to be looked at while my SSI case is in appeals for the third or fourth time now. This isn’t your problem or even your fight. It’s mine and I have accepted that –that is how this stuff is done. I just try to maneuver around the red tape and do what I can do for myself with the very limited resources that are displayed to me. Does this make me sometimes difficult to be around and/or operate around? Absolutely it does. I am working very hard on myself, pretty much by myself. I am still trying to get a new therapist. I need more things to happen faster but I cannot make broken fixed just because I want that to happen. I can only steer the ship for so long before it requires others to keep the boat afloat.

In closing, my medical saga has been nothing short of bewildering. Standard treatments have proven futile, and my quest for stability remains elusive. The medical world sees me as a typical Type II Diabetes case, but I stand as an exception, a conundrum, defying all attempts at categorization. My journey continues, with red tape and uncertainty as my companions. If, by some miraculous chance this enigma may have an end other than a day of remembrance of my days of life at the beach, where all my friends, and peers say goodbye to me. FUCK… I so do not wanna be “that guy.” I have no thirst to be there, like that. For now, I continue to soldier on, the captain of my ship through the turbulent seas of my health.

Brace the sails and laugh in the face of the storm, for behind those clouds, the sun awaits our triumphant return… (Air guitar solo.)

Medical Update Fall 2023 by David-Angelo Mineo 11/9/2023 3,916 Words

Medical Timeline Since 2012 (Suspected Beginning of My Type II Diabetes)

2012-2019

• Spring 2012 - Believed Start of my Diabetic State.

• July 2014 - Diagnosed with Type II Diabetes after going to North Port ER. Blood Sugar 500+. I was put on metformin and within a week I was getting sleep paralysis about 3x a week. That is when I started on insulin. I was still drinking alcohol during this time and I suspect the sleep paralysis came from the mixing of the meds and drinking.

• July 2014 - Cataract begins to form in my left eye.

• September 2014 - Left Eye is completely covered in cataract.

• October 2014 - One day around 3pm Cataract begins to form in my right eye. Around the 7pm hour that same day my right eye now was completely covered in cataract, which left me at about 90% blind.

• November 2014 - I have double cataract surgery.

• September 2015 - Denial issues start to form.

• November 2015 - I have double YAG Treatment. Standard Follow-up procedure for Cataract Surgery.

• June 2016 - DUI. I had not yet heeded my original diagnosis to stop drinking. Blood Sugar at the Jail over 500+.

• July 2017 - Cellulitis in my right middle finger. A large section of the infection, which was the inside of the tip of my right middle finger was cut out. Blood Sugar in the ER was 500+. I was in ICU for 8 days hooked up to liquid IV antibiotics.

• September 2017 - L4 tear in my lower back. Hurts a lot if I stand for too long, measured in hours. Most of the time I am fine but at night when I try to sleep it is hard to stay comfortable. I can no longer sleep on my sides or stomach for very long. Nor can I sleep through the night, most nights.

• October 2018 - Skin boil on my face from ingrown hair. Went to a local clinic and they gave me an antibiotic. It healed in a few days.

2020

• February 2nd - Super Bowl Sunday - Cellulites, Left Eye, no treatment. Healed in a few days. Has had blurry vision on/off since.

• March - June - Quarantine, Had been drinking on the heavier side on weekends due to the craziness that is/was the Pandemic.

• June 22nd - Likely caught Covid in St Pete at a restaurant on the beach. Last shot, tequila, my only drink of the day. Was not feeling well on the way home. Started with a migraine headache. • June 24th - Mono like symptoms, in bed, last insulin shot till ER on July 11th.

• June 26th - Felt ok, went out to eat. Last beer, just one. 

• June 27th - Sick again, mostly the same as before. Mono like symptoms.

• July 9th - Likely start date of Diabetic Ketoacidosis and Pancreatitis. So sick and weak and anything I tried to drink or eat came back up as bile and blood within an hour. • July 11th - Called 911 to come get me. Admitted in ER at Englewood Community. 36 hours in ICU. No real memory of this as I was on Morphine the whole time. Had extreme visions/experiences. Tested positive for Covid-19 but feel Covid had already run its course. I was there because my Liver and Pancreas went into complete shutdown.

• July 15th - Released under my own power.

• July 18th - Home 3 days and Macular Edema sets in both eyes.

• July 25th - Eye Doctor Appointment and Macular Edema is confirmed.

• July 26th - Vision starting to improve.

• July 30th - Eye Doctor follow up. Vision about 50% cleared up but still has heavy blurriness in the left eye right eye fairly useless.

• August 14th - Went out for the first time in months. Felt very awkward being around people. Anxiety through the roof. Felt like my chest was going to explode.

• September – Began going to Family Centers of SWFL for follow up treatments.

• December – Began treatments at Retina Associates of Sarasota for Retinopathy in both eyes.

2021

• September –Denied SSI benefits. Lawyers took it to appeals.

• December – Stopped treatments at Retina Associates of Sarasota due to no insurance for laser surgery to remove excess scar tissue in the right eye before we can continue treatments.

• December – Diagnosed with Gastroparesis.

2022

• September –Hurricane IAN strikes. Heavy damage to the house.

• November – Denied SSI Appeal. Lawyers re-appeal.

2023

• May – Began treatments for diabetes with Virginia B Andes.

• June – Sick with flu. Almost went to ER due to not being able to get better. I was sick virtually all of June and July with a 10-day break at the end of June and the beginning of July.

• July – Changed medications from initial Doctor’s recommendations to something I believed to be a more logical approach due to standard treatments being ineffective and my experience with these treatments and how my body has NOT responded to them.

• September – Noticed eye power changing in the positive direction. I probably need to see an eye doctor and get new glasses at this point. The nearest eye treatments I can get through Virginia B Andes is all the way down in Bonita Springs. That is not doable.

• October – Having to discuss my strange case to the higher ups at Virginia B Andes so that I can try to get some kind of stability in my medical care and plan of attack to try to right this ship that is my medical health. I am also seeking treatment for mental health issues as well but have yet to get the billing mix-ups corrected to make an appointment with a new therapist.

Current Medical Issues:

• Type II Diabetes (w/ extremely high blood sugar even with drugs.) • Retinopathy (both eyes, the right is really bad. Left is manageable.) • Diabetic ketoacidosis (seems stable upon last blood test) • Pancreatitis (seems stable upon last blood test) • Neuropathy (mostly numbness, rare sharp pains, loss of dexterity seems to be what is worst here) • PTSD (near death experiences and trips to ICU. My CNS is also very much out of whack.) • Bipolar Disorder (undiagnosed, untreated in youth) • Erectile Dysfunction (started after I got the flu in March 2016 and have issues ever since). • Gastroparesis (digestion is abnormally slow, bowel movements are extremely messy, stomach pains, between 4-6 on the 10-scale.) • Chronophobia (fear, extreme anxiety from the flow of time and always having a sense of dread there is never enough time.)

Medications:

• 70/30 Insulin - Lite dose with each meal, 0-20 units. (Supposed to take twice a day.) • Long Lasting Insulin – x2/day, 10-15 units, once in the morning and once before bed. (Supposed to take one big dose a day.) • Lisinopril (40mg) – once a day. • Amlodipine (5mg) – once a day. • Polyethylene Glycol – once a day. (Supposed to take twice a day.)

Supplements & Vitamins:

• Omega Three Fish Oil, Twice a day. Once in the morning before breakfast and once before dinner.

• Vitamin D, Twice a Day. Once in the morning before breakfast and once before dinner. This is a double dose.

• Probiotic, Twice a Day. Once in the morning before breakfast and once before dinner.

• Melatonin (5-12mg) once a night about an hour before bed.

—END OF LINE—

[fuckyeah-dragrace]

hiii 💕 can i ask for: 🚙 and 🏥 for jasya in the single mom au please??

Anything for my best gal cece!

🚙 Road trip headcanons!

Like a year or so into dating, Dayas sister, Crystal, gets married and holds the wedding in Springfield MO, since that’s where she and her fiancé Gigi, first met

So Daya and Jasmine decide to just drive there and have a fun lil summer vacation and the wedding

Now driving for 18+ hours by themselves would be a challenge on its own but it’s 18+ hours of driving and an almost 2 year old which means they have to have a plan

So they have it where they switch off like almost every state but Daya ends up doing most of the driving because…

Lil Miss Ava, does not like car rides and to even like tolerate them, Jasmine or Daya have to be sitting in the back with her- she prefers Jasmine being there (tbh Daya would too so she’s not too jealous)

But Daya really doesn’t mind and she’s a better driver than Jasmine anyways

So Dayas driving and Jasmines on Toddler duty but she’s a great co-pilot too

She’s got all of Dayas snacks and drinks and checks up on her on the hour

Plus she plays games like when they’re stuck in traffic, the pick a car color and count how many they see

Ava won with ‘4 bajillion shiny cars’ they didn’t have the very to tell her that shiny wasn’t a color so they let that slide

They end up taking a couple of breaks to stretch and pause before getting back on the road and to get Ava to sleep so Jasmine can sit upfront or drive for a little to give Daya some sort of break

They hit there solid golden hours where Ava’s either asleep or somewhat tolerating the drive so Dayas able to sleep before switching off with Jasmine

When it’s just the two of them at night driving and Ava’s passed out, they talk about life and hopes for the future, reminiscing about their favorite moments and memories

Jasmine ends up falling asleep in the passengers seat while Daya just drives and thinks she’d the luckiest woman in the world

Jasmine still remembers that first roadtrip and thinks that she would want to take a thousand more with Daya

🏥 Taking care of Injuries headcanons!

Okay okay okay I have like a whole fic already written for this but imma go deeper on it

So Dayas Diabetic, obviously, but early into there relationship she didn’t tell Jasmine cuz she was afraid because in past relationships her partners treated her differently when they found out and Daya absolutely hated it

But anyways, so Daya comes over and she faints because her blood sugar gets too low

And Jasmine freaks

She’s in fully mama nurse mode and gets the works

Juice, blankets, cookies, you name it Jasmines got it

And when Daya finally wakes up Jasmine is so relieved but still angry because Daya never told her about it but she’s just thankfully Dayas okay

Now she always carry’s juice and Dayas favorite snacks in her purse or diaper bag just in case

Now when Jasmine gets hurt… that’s a whole other story

It was actually at Crystals wedding when Jasmine ended up passing out at the reception, the heat and sun getting to her

And Daya was an absolute mess

Like she’s sitting there in the ER making a hole into the ground with how she’s pacing

She was just so filled with worry that she couldn’t really do anything

But when Jasmine woke up Daya kissed her senseless and held her so tight

It was worse when they went home and Daya put Jasmine on bed rest for a few days until Jasmine had to knock some sense into Daya

[potteresque-ire]

Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈  (June is Pride Month where I am 😊) For the occasion, may I recommend this animated musical short, 秘密港 Safe Haven, by the Beijing Queer Chorus (北京酷兒合唱團)? Published on the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia and Biphobia (IDAHOBIT; May 17th, 2021),  the animation, with its lovely (and at times, heartbreaking) song, is about a queer person and their friend who tries to offer their support. The lyrics is English-subbed.

(Below the cut: a wish for the c-queer community; conception of Safe Haven, as explained by the Beijing Queer Chorus; CW/TW for homophobia, violence and forced abortion)

Background for my wish: with the recent Chinese government’s aggressive turnaround in its population control policy to combat its declining birth rate—on 2021/05/31, China further lifted the cap of number of children allowed per couple from 2 to 3 (the number was 1 for almost four decades, 1978-2015; the population control measure has therefore been colloquially called the “One Child Policy”), younger generations of Chinese are already feeling the pressure and fearing the consequences of non-compliance (for example, if the state levies heavy fines on non-child-bearers).   

While I have not yet read articles that directly connect the major policy shift with the c-queer community, I imagine it may bring both relief and additional challenges. The relief will likely take time to come; the challenges, meanwhile,  will likely be immediate. 

This has to do with the root of antagonism against homosexuality in Chinese societies. Unlike in their Western counterparts, Chinese queers have consistently reported that family, instead of societal, pressure as the greatest challenge they face (societal pressure includes that from religion, from government etc). C-queers are expected to abide to the heteronormative traditions of opposite-sex marriage and child-bearing, in a collectivistic, conformist environment still strongly influenced by the Confucian notion that continuing the bloodline is the primary responsibility of a filial child. Men, especially, are under heavy pressure to carry on their family surname. Those who fail to do so are seen as irresponsible at best, moral failures at worst. They suffer anything and everything from constant nagging from their relatives, to ostracisation, to disownment. 

A better known consequence of this cultural antagonism against homosexuality in the tragic Tongqi (同妻 “homo-wives”) phenomenon that is, perhaps, unique to China. 

Tongqi are straight women who unknowingly entered marriage with closeted gay man, who often learn about their spouse’s sexuality only after the filial obligation of having children has been fulfilled. It’s a form of marriage fraud; women who file for divorce, however, are likely to lose custody of their child(ren) under Chinese laws, and so many of them keep mum. The gay men involved are also victims in many cases; the lack of public, open education and discussion of queer topics in the country mean even the queers themselves may not have a full understanding of their own queerness, believe that “straightening” themselves is something they can do with sufficient willpower and love for their family. 

As one may expect, these marriages are mostly unsatisfying; psychiatric issues and intimate partner violence (IPV), which include verbal, emotional and physical abuse, have also been frequently reported. Just how prevalent are Tongqi’s in China that, in turn, reflect how many gay men in China are pressured to remain in the closet and get married? The following numbers may serve as comparison. In 2010, the percentage of gay men married to heterosexual women in the US was 15-25%. In China and in 2018, meanwhile, the reowned Chinese sexologist, sociologist and LGBT rights activist, Li Yinhe (李銀河), quoted an estimate of 80% of China’s ~ 20 million gay men were married to heterosexual wives; i.e. the Tongqi population amounted to ~16 million. Literature has reported a similar estimated size of the Tongqi population—at 13+ million, in 2016. 

(Reason for the numbers being estimates: the exact size of the c-queer community isn’t known. China’s decennial census questionnaire from late last year (2020) once again excluded questions about its own LGBT+ community. "Room mate” is how many c-queers have to refer to their partners).

While the Chinese government decriminalised homosexuality in 1997 and its current laws carry no clauses that target the queer community—the official stance of Chinese government on homosexuality is currently 不支持，不反對，不提倡 “not supporting, not opposing, not advocating”—what may seem to be its non-queer-related policies have indirectly but majorly impacted the lives of c-queers. In particular, the “One Child Policy” has been hypothesised to exacerbate the challenge faced by c-queers, as the only child becomes the sole “next generation” available for producing grandchildren and extending the family bloodline. 

Hence, my expectation / hope that the relaxation of "One Child Policy”, by lifting the cap on the number of children a couple can have, will bring relief to the LGBT+ population—even if the relief will only come years down the road, as the newer generations of c-queers will then have siblings to share their filial responsibilities. 

However, this also explains my worry for now, for the immediate months and years to come, for not only c-queers but the younger generations of Chinese in general. My worry is about how, exactly, the state intends to drive its birth rate upward, and the hardship the new policies may bring. 

The practices of China’s population control policies have historically been brutal. Forced, late-term abortions were common, for example. This is reflected in the country’s birth control propaganda banners, commonly seen in Chinese villages until late 2000s, which were infamous for their verbal violence:

“Beat it out! Abort it! Miscarry it! Just cannot give birth to it!”

Fines, which were levied on offenders of the One Child Policy, may seem like a better option but can place an unbearable burden on poorer families, of which there remain many in China. Premier Li Keqiang reported, in May 2020, that >40% of China’s population—600 million—are living with a monthly income of ~$140 USD or below, despite the glitz often seen in the country’s entertainment productions. Using One Child Policy era fines for reference, the famous Chinese director 張藝謀 Zhang Yimou was fined 7.48 million RMB (~$1.17 million USD) for his three children, in 2013. Defying the new population control policies may therefore be a privilege reserved for the very powerful and very rich. And the government is likely to be aggressive in enforcing its new policies—the social media accounts of > 20 feminist activists, who advocate for reproductive freedom among other women’s rights, have already been shut down in the recent weeks. 

Will the Chinese government find ways to penalise members of the queer community who do not contribute to the new baby count? Will it turn a blind(er) eye to the Tongqi 同妻 (and to a lesser extent, Tongfu 同夫 ~ heterosexual men married to lesbian women) tragedies happening every day? It’s impossible to say yet.

For this year, therefore, I wish the c-queer community this—I wish it to be safe from the reach of China’s population control policies, whatever they will be. 

Back to the animated short, Safe Haven, which is about coming out. In 2016, a 18,000 people survey by the United Nations Development Programme reported only 5% of Chinese queers had come out to people outside their families. Only 15% have come out to their families. A more recent survey reports a significant improvement in these percentages, with ~50% of gays, bisexuals and transgenders and 70% of lesbians having come out to their families (Table 2). Fully out queers remain rare (<10%).

There’s still, therefore, a long way to go. With queers often being out (if they’re out at all) only to their most immediate/intimate social circles, with the state’s censorship of LGBT+ presentation in visual media, many (especially older generations of) non-queers in China haven’t seen a living, breathing, outwardly queer person before. The process of coming out, by extension—what it means, what it takes for both the giver and receiver of the message—may have never entered the thoughts of these non-queers before.

What should they say? What should they do? What words and actions will convey support? What won’t?

Safe Haven is about these questions. I’ll end this post with a translation of the Weibo post in which the animated short was first published, in which Beijing Queer Chorus explained the project’s conception:

#517 IDAHOBIT# Do you remember how it was like, the first time you came out of the closet, or someone came out of the closet to you? Who was that person? What did you say at the time, and how did that person react?

The person who voluntarily exposes their heart requires courage. The person who receives the message may have their own heart filled with unease. 

Maybe, both are thinking: “What should I do?”

Coming out is such an important occasion. It can, perhaps, change a relationship forever.

Some will welcome warmth and hugs. Some others will get their first taste of homophobia. Yet some others will find neither.

After a queer person came out to their friend, they got, in return, “Don’t worry. I’ll still treat you as a friend.” It made them uncomfortable for a long time. But their straight family and friends didn’t understand. How could this be not a kind thing to say?

What is gay-friendly? What is homophobic? It appears that everyone has their own standards. The same words and behaviours transmit warmth to some, deep offence to others.

So, when we’re talking about “homophobia”, what are we talking about?

To commemorate this years #517 IDAHOBIT#, the Beijing Queer Chorus interviewed its tens of members and their relatives and friends, in hopes of investigating the difference in perspectives between homosexuals and straight people. How can this barrier be crossed, how can they work together to take care of the valuable relationships.

In the stories of all interviewees, a warmth like this can be felt: even with the risks, there remain those who are brave enough to display their true self; even with the misunderstandings, there remain those willing to keep the secrets of others, willing to learn to understand a whole new world.

We condensed these stories into an original, animated musical short, Safe Haven.

We hope every boat riding the winds and waves can find a harbour to unload their secrets. We also hope every person has enough gentle strength to be the safe haven for others. 

We offer our best wishes to every queer who lets their heart be seen ~ may your courage reap its rewards.

We thank every friend and family who have treated these hidden matters of the heart seriously. You make the world a better place.

[physicalturian]

[16+] Define "Hate" - Miya Atsumu x Fem!Reader

[She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]

Words : 9956

Archive of our own

Tags : Enemies to friends (to lovers) / A random dude tries to make out but fails / Drinking / Partying / Fluff / Wholesome / Tenderness / Slight non-con

If you think I should add some tags, tell me!

Summary : Your friend Bokuto invites you to a party, where due to circumstances you're forced to hang out with a man that hates you : Miya Atsumu. The evening does not go as planned, and slowly, you're coming to the realization that your entire relationship may have started on a misunderstanding.

A/N: The unwanted advances are from a random person, so is the non-consensual touching. It does not go further, the person is stopped. The story is cute, but you've been warned if you're sensitive to such topics! Have fun!

- - -

I knew the moment I heard Bokuto say “I’ll meet you there then!” that I shouldn’t have accepted his offer to go out. While I was aware it was a rare opportunity considering his lack of free time, I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach it was going to turn out bad.

Before I could ask him what he meant by meet there, he had hung up, telling me he was excited. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I stared at the screen and tried to call him back right away, I had to ask him where we were meeting since in his excitement, he had not shared the location.

He never picked up. Even after 4 calls.

With a heavy sigh, I got up from my desk and grimaced at my last option to get hang of the man, “I really don’t want to call him… I should get Hinata’s phone number, that’d be more enjoyable than him.” Shaking my head, I told myself that we were both adults, and we could have a proper conversation. Clearing my throat, I pressed the name in my contacts and waited, drumming my fingers on the back of the phone.

After a moment, I heard some hubbub in the background before hearing the fake-joyous voice on the other end, “Well, isn’t it the little faker, are you calling me to come clean and finally be real with me-“ “Hello to you too, is Koutarou nearby?” I cut him off, not wanting to hear his little speech.

Every time we would meet, he would talk shit about the way I’d act. I was very social during those gatherings; I was calmer in normal situation, and I’ll admit putting on a tougher face when around more people I did not know. But what bugged Atsumu Miya was that I was never getting mad. His sole purpose seemed to try to tick me off.

Perhaps he was himself mad that I kept throwing him comebacks and that he’d struggle to come up with something just as good. Or perhaps he only heard about me from Bokuto and wanted to see the less stoic side Bokuto probably talked to him about.

The blond Miya twin huffed, it was followed by a more muffled sound. “I could ask, I could answer, really. But I’m not fond of the attitude, so I might just hang up-“ “You do that,” I had started tauntingly, thinking he wouldn’t do it. Before I could say more, he hung up.

It was my turn to huff as I called him back, he picked up just as fast, “Back so soon? How can I help you? And don’t waste time on formalities, I don’t need the fake niceties. This ain’t an interview,” His grin could be heard through the phone, it made me roll my eyes as I sighed.

“I really don’t know why Kou gave me your number instead of literally any other guy from your team. Just tell me if Koutarou is here, that’s all I am calling about.” Just when I said that, I heard my friend’s voice ask who was on the phone. I was very close to threaten Atsumu, thinking he was going to be shitty and not tell Bokuto it was me. Instead, he told him the truth and handed him his phone.

“Hey!! What’s up?” “Kou, you said we’d meet up there, where is ‘there’ exactly?” He burst out laughing for a long while before telling me he meant the pub near the campus, he added that the closest they were to the campus, the more they could get wasted. Or as he put it ‘the waster-er we can be’. “Right, but I’m a bit further from the pub. I don’t live that far, but not that close either-“

Hushing me, he said, “I know, I know, that’s why Tsum-Tsum is going to come pick you up! He said he wasn’t going to drink tonight, he’ll be our designated driver, I already gave him your address.”

I blinked a few times, not responding. Was he fucking with me? “Bok, Bok, can’t you just pick me up yourself?” “Nah, I have to go get my bro, he said he’ll need to be saved from a boring party he was forced to go to,” He explained. He then cut the conversation short by telling me we’d see each other tonight, then another voice spoke.

“Sheesh, who would have thought, right? Hope that does not make you mad. Better be ready at 5, don’t forget the condescending attitude, we wouldn’t want the others to know who you really are, right?” “You are obsessed with me, it’s getting ridiculous. I’m not fake, Miya. It says a lot if all you want is for me to get mad at you, perhaps you lived in a too lenient household? In dire need of being reprimanded?” The man scoffed and repeated to be ready by 5, then hung up.

I had a few hours left to get prepared and did it in no time. Enough to wear something casual enough, but still standing out a bit to look good. With the time I had left, I rummaged through my place to find an empty reusable bottle and filled it with something to spice up my drinks and have more fun. Going to bars was fun, but it did not come cheap, plus if I was going to be somewhere where Atsumu Miya was, I was not going to be sober.

I was putting my bottle inside my bag, when I heard my phone ring in my back pocket and quickly grabbed it only to be attacked, “When I say be ready at 5, it means be in front of the building door by 5, not take your time going down the stairs.” “Did you skip breakfast or something? Such a sour mood Miya, even for you it’s surprising. I’ll be there in two minutes.” Doing as he did to me, I hung up before he could say anything and left my place, making sure to turn everything off and lock the doors.

I had left a note to my roommate, telling them I was going out and not to be surprised if I wasn’t home.

Knowing that staying in Atsumu’s presence was going to take a toll on me, I took a few measured breaths as I went down the stairs. Most of the people I knew appreciated how calm I was, but the man child seemed annoyed by it more than anyone. He was dead set on making me mad. If anyone asked me, I’d say he got mad one time I did not laugh at his stupid jokes and put himself up to the challenge to get a reaction out of me. And since his humor was not on point, the easiest way, in his books, could be getting me mad.

I never really understood why he was like that with me, since he never explained his nasty attitude, but I was bearing through it.

Giving him a nod, I knocked on the window and told him to open. Rolling his eyes, he did and put his phone back on the stand on the dashboard where the aux was connected. He put on some music and started driving, not saying much. It felt like he was forcing himself to not speak, which made me sigh in annoyance. He was being too petty, and for what?

Keeping things civilized, I said, “Thank you for picking me up,” I held back from saying I was surprised his car was clean. There was a sports bag on the bag seat, but it was still clean, and it did not smell bad. “I owed Bokuto, that’s all” “Still, thank you. You could have told him no since you hate me,” I said jokingly, hoping for a reaction. It did not take long to get one, in a whiny voice he looked at me with a scowl, “I don’t hate you, you’re just-“ “Look at the road, then bitch and moan,”

“Like that, you’re like that, God,” He huffed, focusing back on the road. In a calm voice, I said, “Well, I’d rather we did not get in an accident just because you have anger issues, you know?” I taunted, making him grip the wheel tighter.

“I don’t have anger issues; I just know you’re not as calm as you appear to be. No one is, I’ve seen, at best, two emotions on that arrogant face of yours and I’m sure they were all fake,” He stated, definitely believing what he was saying. Quirking a brow in response, I hummed inquisitively, playing with the seatbelt. “Is that so? My theory is that you’re mad I don’t laugh at your jokes,” I shrugged.

With a quick glance, he raised a finger in emphasis as he said, “First, I’m hilarious,” he raised another finger, “Second, I’ll get you to show some emotion at some point, but tonight I’m having fun and not caring if I have a fucking rock with me,”

I’ll admit it hurt a bit to hear him say that. But I didn’t show it. If the man was going to act as such then so be it, “Sure, sure, call me Wall-E because I’m an emotionless robot, right?”

“Wall-E was in love with Eve, he had emotions,” I heard him mumble. A smile drew itself on my face when I heard that, I don’t know if I wanted to tell him it sounded cute the way he said it. Now I took it as a challenge to keep all of my feelings away from him, since he seemed too keen on unraveling the mystery that I seemed to be in his eyes. “Right. That he was, sure.”

“Have you not seen the movie? Do you even cry during sad movies- no, do you ever cry, at all? Or is it just bitterness and pure attitude?” “Doesn’t it get tiring to be mad at nothing?” I ignored his questions, finding them absolutely ridiculous. All I wanted was to jump out of his car and walk the rest of the way to the bar.

“I’m not mad!” He said, annoyed. “Well, you don’t have a very positive attitude Miya, Bokuto keeps telling me how you’re so funny and cool but all I see is a little bitch who’s upset over meeting someone who isn’t as loud as he is,”

With a scoff, he replied, his tone getting rougher, “And he keeps telling me you’re so great to be around, and the best kind of company and yet I’d feel better hanging out with a goldfish.”

“Since we’re on the same page, I suggest we stop talking. That’d be better for both of us.” My tone was strained, I never had such a tensed relationship with anyone. My chest felt heavy knowing the reason I wasn’t getting along with him was his utter dislike of who I was, but I ignored it. I was not going to let it get to me, I was going to get drunk and have fun.

I reached out for the phone to increase the volume, my hand almost bumping with Atsumu. We seemed to have had the same idea. He looked at me with a raised brow, “Choose whatever song,” he said. I turned my face to look at the window instead and shrugged, “I don’t care, we’re almost there,”

Another sigh followed when Atsumu changed to something a bit more upbeat. I wanted to sing along, and as I glanced his way, he also did. His mouth was matching the lyrics, but no other sound followed. It was kind of cute.

“Do you want something?” He asked, probably feeling my stare. “No. Just lost in thoughts.”

The rest of the drive was spent without another word. I only thanked him when we arrived, the loud music could already be heard from outside. The reason for it being the windows being wide open along with the door. It felt familiar, the tension from the car dissipated easily. I was finally going to be able to avoid the Miya twin and have fun.

Except I still had him close by when we walked up to the entrance of the building. “Stop walking with me, people will think we came here together,” He said in a panicked tone.

“Which we did, but you’re right. I wouldn’t want to be seen with you,” I sped up my pace and walked further in front of him, turning around and saluting him. “See you,” I said with a mischievous grin upon seeing his surprised expression. He scrambled to his senses and added “Never, see you never!”

I rolled my eyes at how childish he sounded and made my way inside, feeling much more welcome by the loud music and beer smells than I felt in the car of a man that despised me. I was startled when I heard my name being called but let out a shaky laugh when I saw Bokuto at a table, waving at him I joined him.

“Hey Kou!” I looked at the black-haired man next to him and nodded, “Kuroo,” Bokuto scooted closer to his friend to make me some space, so I sat down. In front of us was his teammates, Hinata and Sakusa, which I greeted along the way. Before I could join the conversation, Bokuto handed me his beer, “We can’t really start without this, right?” I rolled my eyes, knowing full well what he wanted from me. I chugged the drink, slamming the cup down. “Bro, it wasn’t just beer, the fuck did you put in that?” “Fun, I put fun in it.”

“Yeah well, I’m not chugging another one of those, I’ll wait a bit before taking something else,” I huffed a laugh, looking around a bit. I met a random dude’s gaze who seemed to be fixed on mine. When I made a confused face, a smirk drew itself on his face. It felt very off-putting, his gaze was not leaving mine, I only looked away when Bokuto placed a hand on my shoulder. “Tonight is the night we get wasted,” The last word being said in a much louder tone than the rest, almost screaming it.

Nudging him, I quirked a brow, “That changes from the usual because?” “Because everyone is here!” He turned to look at Hinata and Sakusa, a huge grin on his face, “What’s your poison?”

I let out a laugh, about to tell him no one said that but Kuroo beat me to it, “Bro, no one says that. That was cringe,” he looked at the two other men and smirked as he placed both his hands on the table, ready to get up to get the drinks. “What’s your Kryptonite?”

Sakusa sighed, I looked at the two best friends and told them that no one said that either but at least we knew what they meant. Hinata said he didn’t usually drink, while Sakusa said he was not planning on getting wasted. Bokuto proceeded to whine and try to convince the dark-haired man. While he did that, I got up and went to the bar to get a few beers. Once I had ordered, I waited for the barman to serve the drinks.

In my waiting, I was pushed a bit around considering the amount of people around. I gripped the bar tight to stay put and felt someone touch my ass, I turned around with a scowl, ready to beat whoever did that. All I could see was a person leaving, they seemed tall, but I couldn’t really tell much more about them just from their back. “Fucking asshole,” I mumbled as I turned back to get my drinks, thanking the barman.

I had to hold back a loud sigh when I saw Atsumu seating next to Hinata when I joined back my friends at the table. I had planned on having fun and having him there only made me uneasy.

Putting the drinks on the table, I sat down and grabbed my bottle, looking him dead in the eyes. I observed a moment, assessing, checking how annoying he was tonight. “Five.” I said as I gulped down some of my drink.

Confused he put his glass down, “What ‘five’?”

Finishing drinking from my bottle, I closed it and smirked, “I’ll need 5 shots until I can handle your whiny ass tonight,”

He gasped and pointed at Bokuto, “Bok! Your robot friend is being a bitch again, how can you stay with her!” He complained, earning a loud laugh from Bokuto. Kuroo answered instead, “She’s funny, and pretty reasonable, I would have said 7.” Atsumu grumbled in response and hurried us to start the drinking game.

I did not really understand what the game was about, it seemed to have been invented by Kuroo and Bokuto, but clearly, they were having a blast. I didn’t quite follow the rules but would drink when they’d tell me to. Hinata was already a lot louder than 3 drinks ago, his cheeks flushed pink and his hand gripping Atsumu’s biceps when he’d talk.

As loud as both Kuroo and Bokuto already were, it had gotten louder. And a lot less clear, their words being more slurred. It was still joyful as the smile on their face was beaming when they’d tell one another joke. It was so wholesome; I couldn’t help but join their stupid giggling.

Sakusa had left after a few hours, Atsumu had drove him back before coming back and joining us once more.

I don’t really know what I talked about with Bokuto during Atsumu’s absence, but I remember leaning in and resting my cheek on his shoulder. “Atsumu hates me…” I mumbled. I heard Kuroo whisper something but didn’t quite catch it, instead Bokuto placed a hand on the back of my head. “I don’t know bro, he definitely feels something, but I don’t know- you know like, he just, when I….But like…” I nodded.

“What I’m saying is like, I don’t know man, I thought you’d both get along!! You’re both so cool, but yeah no… So, like- he looks like he’s been challenged or something man,” He grumbled, nudging Kuroo and bringing his head against his chest along with mine. “It makes me sad,” he whined the last part. “I just want my friends to get along, I don’t want you to be fighting,” Feeling his chest move weirdly, I realized he was crying.

Kuroo huffed a laugh and tried to cheer him up, I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. I found it slightly funny, both Kuroo and I were smiling at how Bokuto turned out but still did our best to cheer him up.

Checking if he was coming back, I instead met the gaze of the dude from earlier. He was watching me intently from his spot at the bar. He raised a glass my way before taking a sip.

The feeling in the pit of my stomach grew, it was unease, uncomfortable… Unsafe. But I ignored him and looked back at Bokuto. “Alright, alright, I’ll try to talk to him,” I slurred a few of my words too, more out of exhaustion than anything. When I had too many drinks, I was not angry or sad, but tired. Still when I saw Atsumu Miya walk in, I chugged down my shot and stood up. “Wish me luck,”

I quickly made my way towards him, “Miya,” he turned away from me and ignored me.

I could have called his name again, but that would have made me look clingy. I followed him instead, trying to grab his arm, but he was walking fast. Maybe he didn’t hear me, right? Maybe he did not even think I called him, because why would I… right?

I huffed at my own thought, why was I trying to justify this man just not wanting to deal with me?

In my loss of focus, I bumped into someone and apologized quickly. They grabbed my biceps to keep me in place, a forced-nice tone in their voice. “Hey there, be careful next time,”

I held back my disgust when he brushed his thumbs over my arm. “Thank you, have a nice night.” Shit, I should have been more fake. Now he’ll feel offended. Too many words too. I should I have just said thank you. Fuck.

His eyes focused on mine a moment, damn it, he was going to use that card… “Hey have we met already?” I shook my head, trying to get out of his grasp. “Oh right! You’re the one who kept looking at me, haha.” I gave him a fake smile, still not saying anything. He let go of one of my arms and tried to guide me somewhere, but I stood in the spot. I didn’t want to move, there were already very few people here, I did not want to go somewhere even less crowded.

“Hey, I really have to go, my friend-“ “The one who was ignoring you? Haha, I think you should let him go, if he’s like that.” A fake laugh was what I gave him with a nod, I did not want to make him feel attacked. “Come on, I see the way you were looking at me. You can’t act shy now,” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, I felt my heart beat faster in fear. I wasn’t in any condition to do any real damage, maybe I was overthinking it, but I considered screaming, not that anyone would come in.

I gulped and straightened my back, “I believe you were looking at me like a hawk more than anything, I was just glancing.” I was glad I didn’t stutter, but the moment his smile disappeared, I tried to pull my arm from him. “I’m pretty sure you were looking like I was, maybe thinking of what we could do together…” His eyes traveled over my body. I tried to push him off, he grunted. “Hey, why are you like that? I’m just being nice here,”

“I’m sure you are, just let me go, I’m not interested,” He held only tighter, pushing me to the wall and gripping my jaw to have me look him dead in the eyes, “I’ll show you what you’re missing, do you mind if I-“ His hand was starting to drift to my collarbone, “I’m sure you don’t, I saw the way you acted with those men-“ He nipped my neck, and I elbowed his side.

This was enough, I glanced down and saw an opportunity to knee him in the balls before punching his stomach and biting his arm to let me go. He tried to grab me, but I ran off, tripping as I did so. I could hear him swear under his breath and call me a bitch, a maniac, a psycho. I huffed and went back to my table. I tried to brush off what happened, but the stress made my hands shake.

I was breathing heavily. Eyes tearing up. Deep breath, in …. Out… I told myself as I brushed my clothes off and tried to smile before reaching the table, calming myself down. I just wanted to get Bokuto and stick by his side, his presence was reassuring and that’s what I need. I just wanted to get my friend, maybe a hug… just anything. If the man came back, he’d probably back off, but I couldn’t be alone.

When I got to the table and only saw Atsumu, I let out a nervous laugh. “Miya, where’s Kou?” I looked behind me, making sure the man wasn’t there. “He disappeared with Kuroo and little Shoyo,” He said off-handedly, glancing at me as he spoke. I clenched my jaw, knowing if I spoke, I would break down. Deep breaths, in… and out… in…. and out…“When’s he- coming back,” A knot in my throat gave away that I wasn’t as composed as I seemed. But I did not want to be mocked by Atsumu and prayed he didn’t catch on.

“I don’t think he is-“ He cut himself off and looked at me with a frown, “Hey are you okay?” I waved him off, feeling my lips wobble a bit. I cleared my throat and frowned, “I need to find him, I’ll go find him-“

Turning around, I ignored him when he called my name and walked off as fast I could. This place did not feel as welcoming as it once did. Any bump against my shoulder made me feel more and more on edge, I didn’t feel safe, I didn’t feel good, I wanted to dig a whole and hide in it. Or build a house only made of walls, no windows, no door so that no one could see me or reach out for me. I wanted to cry, of frustration and dread.

When I finally reached the door and stepped outside, a loud shaky sound left my lips. “Fuck, fuck,” I looked around quickly, making sure there wasn’t anyone around before walking behind a tree big enough to hide my form. When I was hidden, I slid down the rugged tree, and let out controlled breath, trying to calm down. I kept swearing under my breath, not finding anything else to say.

I went to grab my phone and realized I left it in my bag, which meant I had to go back inside. The mere thought sent chills running down my body. I took a few more deep breaths and stood up, tucking my hands in my pockets to hide the fact that I was shaking. When I was about to make my way to the pub once more, I bumped into someone. My heart skyrocketed in my chest, I gasped and stepped back, “Hey, be careful,” The sentence in itself made me feel sick, then I realized it wasn’t the man from before.

I couldn’t see much from how dark it was, but recognized Atsumu Miya’s voice. “Miya,” I let out a breath of relief. Something hit my feet, I looked down, my eyes squinted I understood it was my bag, “Thank you,” I was a lot more relieved than my tone portrayed, but I did not want him to know what was going on.

“What’s up with you?”

I looked up at him, my hands still in my pocket. “What’s up with me? Nothing. What’s up with you?” Please leave me alone, please leave me alone. If you stay here any longer, I’ll break down. I thought, my nose and eyes were starting to sting. I could feel tears coming in.

“You seemed shaken inside, why did you need Bok? He left; you won’t find him.” I never realized he had an accent, unfortunately my mind was not focusing on that. It was focused on the fact that Bokuto wasn’t nearby. My breathing wasn’t getting any calmer.

I did not answer.

Atsumu seemed to be looking for something, then he pulled out his phone and turned on his flashlight and aimed it at me. I squinted my eyes at the sudden brightness and looked away, trying to cover my face. “Hey, don’t- are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying,” He reached out for me and took hold of my hand to uncover my face, pulling his phone away and leading me away from the tree to get the moonlight to help him see and not blind me.

“I don’t know why you needed Bokuto, but I can help you if you need,”

I didn’t move. Glancing at our hands, I squeezed his hand, my actions did not match my words as I said, “Stop being nice, I know you hate me- so just… fuck, look away,” Mid-way through my words, I started crying. I quickly tried to wipe them away, my motions were stopped when Atsumu’s hands pried mine from my face. He then pulled me closer and held me tight.

“I’m not looking, I can’t see much right now it’s pretty dark,” I understood what he meant by that and held his sweater tight then started letting all out. I couldn’t formulate any sentences; all I did was let out all the stress and tension that had gathered inside my body from that one short encounter. When I tried to wipe my tears to not wet his clothes, I heard Atsumu chuckle, “Something fun about playing volleyball is that I genuinely couldn’t give more shit about my clothes being wet, usually it’s sweat though but, I’m not picky.”

I let out a breathy laugh and made it obvious enough that I was purposely wiping my tears on his sweater. “Now that’s a bit too much, I’m not your tissue, am I?” He said jokingly, I shrugged, mumbling against his chest, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams…” It elated a loud laugh from the man, he quickly cleared his throat and calmed down, “Not funny, nope.”

We stayed like this a moment until I calmed down.

I could still hear the muffled sound of the party still going on inside the building, but I felt a lot better now, although embarrassed.

I didn’t want to go back inside, and my friends had left. “I should go home…” I said in a low voice, shocking myself with how little energy there was in it.

“I’ll drop you off,” he said while letting go of me. I hadn’t let go right away and heard him made a confused sound as he was about to wrap his arms around me, I let go and stepped back, my cheeks warming up. “Just like that? No questions?” I was confused and felt like an idiot for breaking down in front of the only person who I thought would laugh at me for doing so. Instead, he was humane.

He was about to talk once more, but I was faster, “I’d imagine you nosy, and curious,” I stated, looking anywhere but at him.

“Yeah? That proves you don’t know me, not that you ever tried.”

“Neither did you, Miya. You think I’m a bitch just because I’m not as loud as your friends, or as easily readable as Hinata. And yet, you get along with Sakusa, can you feel the irony?”

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. I sighed and sat on the ground, looking at the sky. “To be honest it’s tiring, it stresses me out to be around you,”

“What?” He sounded utterly confused. I continued, “You know, Bokuto’s an emotional drunk,” I paused, Atsumu agreed. “He cried when you left. I told him you hated me, and he broke down in tears because all he wants is for us to get along,” So do I, I want us to get along. The way Bokuto talked about him made him sound funny, but every time he was around me, he turned sour and just kept being a bitch.

“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about it and when I followed you and called out your name you just completely ignored me, so there’s that.” I shrugged before wrapping my arms around my knees. I felt Atsumu sit beside me and do the same as me, “I don’t remember that, when was that?” I grimaced, “Yeah, figured. But like, don’t make it sound like you would have listened if you had heard me. You can be real with me and just,” I waved his way, motioning to his entire being, “Drop the fake-niceties. You’re being too civil right now, it looks weird on you,”

I said that, but what I meant is that it weirded me out, more than it looked weird on him. Not having him frowned at all my words, not having him huff all the time, or look mad… it felt strange, and I was not against it. “I’m not a bastard-“ I did not control the snort that escaped my body. Atsumu scoffed, “See! This is why you’re unsufferable!”

“Uh? Excuse me? Who’s the one who keeps assuming shit about the other? Because it’s not me, I’m living my best life and you’re just, constantly mad at me. And you’re assuming wrong shit too? All in all, your vision of me is wrong, and you hate that same vision you built of me,” I fully turned to look at him, my speech getting faster, my tone a bit higher, my frustration growing. “Don’t you understand it’s completely stupid? Don’t you realize you look like an idiot? I’m sure you’d be great company, if you weren’t exactly what you say you’re not: a bastard.”

I pushed his legs, “So to make things clear, because that’s what confuses you and maybe you’re not smart enough to read me: I feel scared, I feel embarrassed and I feel frustrated, all of this at this very moment. I’m not a fucking gold fish, and I’m sure gold fish have emotions too, okay?”

I finally let out a breath I felt like I was holding and met Atsumu’s wide eyes, he was looking at me speechless. He opened his mouth once, closed, twice, closed. Then he hummed. “Whatever, at least act neutral around me, bear through that hate because Bokuto’s sad.” I huffed, about to get up. Before I could, Atsumu pulled me down and looked at me with a worried expression.

“Do I make you that unsafe? I didn’t-“ “It’s not you, it’s…“ I shook my head, deciding against telling me. “All you make me feel is bad about myself,”

The blond frowned, any smile on his face disappearing. “I… didn’t know,”

“Of course, you didn’t! How could you? Your assumption is: the emotionless bitch,” I huffed. My heart was beating faster, for some reason. Letting it all out was one thing, but bearing the consequences of telling him, I was afraid he’d get mad anyway. I knew that talking some sense into him would be hard, but I felt like I went too hard with how he looked.

“Why are you scared then, if not because of me? Are you sure it’s not because of me? I can go-“

I wanted to roll my eyes, but instead I grabbed his sleeve to stop him from leaving, “No, no it’s not you. Your presence is… different than usual, so it’s kind of soothing if anything.” I told him, thinking of how to word it. I couldn’t really tell him that if I ended up alone once again, I’d feel a lot less safe.

His usual cocky tone was back, he did not mention what I told him about his actions but instead said, “It feels like you’re avoiding answering my question though,”

Taking a deep breath, I sighed and looked at him in the eyes, “There was this dude the entire evening, he kept looking at me. I ignored it, because … I’m not interested or anything, but when I tried to go after you, he blocked my path. Then he started making advances, and tried to make out or something, I kicked him in the balls and … all that jazz, then made a run for it.” I explained, adding that that’s why I wanted to find Bokuto. I didn’t want to be alone.

Atsumu’s tone seemed determined as he asked where the guy was, he tried to get up, but I pulled him down with force once more. “Why would you go after him?”

“Oh, you think I’m letting this man go ‘bout his life like that? Fucking asshole,” He started mumbling more insults, his blood boiling. He tried to get up once more, not listening to me. His accent seemed a lot stronger now he had lost his cool, I wanted to laugh but the panic of being alone was stronger.

“Atsumu!! I don’t care if you want to beat his ass-“

“Then let me go!”

I tried to make him understand what I wanted; I gave him an intense look, but he was confused. “I-“ I stopped talking and looked away before letting him go. “Whatever, you’re free to do as you please, go,” I shooed him away. Grabbing my bag to get my phone. Atsumu asked me what I was doing, “I’m calling Bokuto,”

“Why? I told you, he’s somewhere, but-“ I heard the ringtone coming from Atsumu, and gave him a confused look. “He left his phone, so…”

“Great. Fantastic, yeah, well. Have fun proving you’re the alpha or something,” I shrugged. I was acting almost as childish as him right now, but I didn’t want to straight up admit what I wanted.

Atsumu didn’t move. He stayed right where he was, after a few moments he sat back down. “You confuse me, I don’t get what you’re doing,” He stated, looking at me, lost. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me without blinking.

I only saw his look from glancing his way, but I wasn’t facing him. I spelled it out for him, articulating each word, feeling my throat tighten as I said them, “I don’t want to be alone. Because if he finds me before you find him, I don’t know…” I ended up mumbling the last part.

All that left Atsumu’s lips was an ‘Ah’ before he scooted closer. “Alright, well, as your knight in shining armor I can’t let you down, you know.”

“You’re not a knight, you just have the privilege of being very muscly and intimidating.” I said as I rested my chin on my knees when I brought them to my chest.

The blond was humming, thinking, not replying right away. He did not say much about what happened, and I was thankful for that. I already felt like an idiot for breaking down in front of him out of everyone, so if he had brought it up, I would have died on the spot. But with him next to me, it felt almost relaxing. A lot different than the mood in the car. Almost as if things had slightly cleared up, but I must have been imagining things.

“So, I’m a bastard, muscly, intimidating, very bad at reading people,” As he started listing tings, I was nodding along, saying ‘yes’ until he said the last one, “And hot” “Yes- Wait, I didn’t say that. The other stuff I said, yeah, but not the last one,”

Pointing at me, he grinned, “Haha, you said I was hot, you said it, I heard it, it’s out there now,”

Rolling my eyes, I slowly faced him and observed him a moment, trying to assess what was his deal, “What’s with the change of attitude? Aren’t you supposed to hate me?” I did not mind him being playful, but once again… it was strange, and if he was doing that just because I felt bad, I didn’t need it. Feeling a bit cold, I started rubbing my hands on my arms, still focused on Atsumu.

The man sighed and rested his chin on his fist. Like me he had brought his knees to his chest, but what differed was that he was pouting right now, I was not. “See, I never said I hated you,”

“Perhaps not, but your actions told me otherwise,” Never have I ever felt welcomed in his presence, he made it very obvious he did not like me.

“Hey, your actions are also very much not-lovey, okay?” He said in a defensive tone, I met that tone with a quirked brow. “Is that so? What did I ever do to you Miya?” From what I remembered I acted the same around him that I did around the others. Perhaps a bit colder since I was not friend with the man, but I never disrespected him.

“You make it very obvious you don’t want to be around me!” “How so?”

“You don’t smile, you don’t laugh- the constant glaring, the whispers with Bok- and now I know it’s ‘cause you don’t like me and not ‘cause you’re being emotionless, you made it clear.” He blurted out. It seemed he had that list at the ready, and he needed to let it all out. But I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“So… you act like a little bitch because, according to you, I don’t like you? Because everyone should like you, right?”

“Yes!! People always love me, I’m handsome, funny, a great guy really, but you hate me, it doesn’t make sense, what did I ever do to you?”

Sucking my teeth in, I smacked my lips, “Well, it seems it’s a bit of a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah? What’d’ya mean?” He asked. I smiled to myself, hiding behind my hand as I pondered on how to word it. The first time I saw him, he looked very handsome, that’s why I stared at him. Clearly first impression made the lasting impression… “First, I’ll admit you’re funny. I just don’t laugh as loud as Kou, if we can call that a laugh. I’d say a bark would be more fitting. But I do find you funny, you just need to pay more attention.” I shrugged.

He frowned, “That doesn’t explain the rest!”

“When did I glare at you?” “The day we met! When I told Bok, he said I wouldn’t understand,”

I rolled my eyes, why had he said that to him? For the love of God, he made a bigger deal out of this than it was meant to be. “Yeah? Well, believe it or not, I was checking you out.” I stated, not looking at him.

“You what?” He moved suddenly and was now crouching weirdly next to me, pulling at my leg, literally, to get my attention, “What? You what? You’re kidding right?”

Facing him, I gave him a deadpanned expression, “Do I look like I’m kidding? And while I’m at it, the whispers could have been one of those three things,” I emphasized by raising a finger at each count, “Number one: ‘he’s cute’, number two: ‘Bro where is the food?’ and last but not least, it does vary” I paused, feeling a bit more hurt when saying this one, “Did I say something mean? Why is he looking at me like that? Why does he hate me?”

Before he could say anything, I placed both my hands on the ground and was about to stand up, “Anyway, great talking to you, that’s enough opening up for one night-“ “Hey, no, no, you don’t get to go! We’re making progress,” He gripped my hand and pulled me back before I could fully stand up. I clicked my tongue against my teeth, annoyed, but did not say anything. It was humiliating enough to have told him that, but now I knew it flattered him. His ego was only boosted from this.

“No, because this changes everything!” Dear fuck, no.

Feeling my back ache, I laid on the ground and asked, absentmindedly “Does it, now? How so? You were still a bastard to me, no amount of charm can save that, Miya.” I regretted saying the last part, thinking he would feel even bolder after hearing me tell him he had charm.

There was a silence. A long one.

After a few minutes, Atsumu laid down next to me. “I’m sorry, I thought you hated me for no reason. I clearly misread… Everything… It also ticked me off that you were so stoic all the time… I was trying to get you angry for a good reason, not just because you randomly hated me, you know? Does that make sense?”

To be fair, I didn’t see the logic behind that. I was a bit confused too, but he seemed genuine in his apology. “It makes some sort of sense, albeit being a bit of an immature reaction… Clearly, we started on the wrong foot,” I told him in all honesty.

Both of us were silent for a moment. He was right, it indeed changed everything. This entire time we had known one another, we had acted like assholes for nothing. I wanted to ask him what he wanted to do now that this was cleared up, but I also felt like he wouldn’t care. But he surprised me.

“Do you wanna start over?” I heard Atsumu ask in a somewhat shy voice. I stared at the sky with wide eyes. Had he asked that? I didn’t mind that.

Not really knowing how to do it, I quickly sitting up and looked at his still laying form. “Come on,” I hurried for him to sit up, he did, a bit lost. Reaching out for a handshake, I waited for him to take it, when he did, I told him my full name, “Nice to meet you, I’m Bokuto’s best friend and I really have to pee,”

Atsumu snorted a laugh and shook my hand, “I’m Miya Atsumu, the best volleyball player you’ll ever meet, and I’ll escort you to the bathroom,” chuckling at that, I accepted his offer. He got up and helped me to my feet before telling me to go first. Shaking my head, I told him to go first, “That way you’re my shield and I get to take a look at those cakes,” I said jokingly. Shit, no, no, not that friendly yet, I thought.

He had pulled out his phone at this very moment, his screen lighting his face. I could see the way his cheeks turned pink when I said that. “In a friendly way! Tell me not to do it, I won’t, I was joking,” I said quickly when started walking. Looking over his shoulder, he shook his ass, “Nah look, I don’t go to the gym 4 times a week for nothing,” We both laughed as we made our way inside.

Before we entered the bar, Atsumu stopped dead in his track, making me bump in his back. I swore under my breath and stepped back, looking at him curiously. “Grab my shirt, I’m not losing you in the crowd,” He said seriously. It was sort of cute how he was suggesting this seriously, but I couldn’t help but grin, “Is this like a third-grade school trip? I think I’ll easily find that little mop of yours, among those people, that is if I lose you-“ “And I’ll find yours, which means the bastard will too, okay?”

I was taken aback by his bluntness, but he was right. His reminder made me feel my stomach churn, in the little time I had spent with Atsumu, I had made sure to try to forget about the incident. But I couldn’t just do that, not when the party was still going on. “Okay… sure, but can I instead hold your arm or something, it feels very childish to hold onto your shirt Miya,”

His expression changed from seriousness to bashfulness when he looked away and reach out for my hand, “If you wanted to hold my hand so bad you could have just asked,” He started, adding over his shoulder, “And it’s Atsumu, Miya’s for people who hate me,” He grinned happily. I sped up to be at his pace, “You seem to be too much at ease to switch from hate to flirting, Atsumu,”

His name rolled strangely off my tongue, but I was willing to make the effort. After all, I had a new friend, the least I can do is respect his preferences. His answer was to walk faster, his hand still gripping mine tight. I don’t know why, but I didn’t mind, his stupidly rough hand and his complete change of attitude made him somewhat enjoyable to be around.

As we zig-zagged in the crowd, I felt someone touch my shoulder but didn’t look at it. Only gripping Atsumu’s hand tighter. Instead of reacting out of panic, I thought: it’s alright, it must be an accidental bump, nothing much, people having fun. Then it happened again, it was with more force this time, I had to look around. When I did, I saw the man from earlier, I pulled Atsumu’s arm urgently, earning an annoyed ‘what’ when he turned around.

“Tha’ your frien’? The one tha’ was ignoring you? Mmmm? Where were you goin’ with ‘im?” My heart was in my throat, I felt sick. Insistent people were annoying enough as it was, but add alcohol to the mixt? Awful. They seemed to be even less aware of their action, and a lot more sensitive to whatever was being told to them. I hated it. “Ye bit me,” he went to grab my arm, but I pulled it back before he could, “You’re playin’ hard to get, I like that ‘bout a girl, feisty and all-“ Before I could tell him off, Atsumu stepped forward and punched him.

“That’s for being fucking disgusting,” Was what he said, then punched him again, “That’s for being a creep,” He raised his fist again, I quickly grabbed his hand and lowered it, twisting his arm in a weird angle which force him to stop. “Hey hey hey, it hurts, let go-“ “Can you please stop? Let’s just go,” The man behind Atsumu was being checked by people around, it annoyed the blond, I could see it, but he did not say anything. “Right, bathroom first.” He said as he pushed me towards the bathroom.

I tried to stop him from pushing me, but he kept on doing that until we were in the corridor. “I’ll watch over here, no one’s gonna bother you,” I gave him the semblant of a smile and entered the bathroom. When I did, only a few seconds after did I hear Atsumu’s voice yell that the man he had punched was a bastard who tried to take advantage of someone. I tuned out from his little speech, feeling embarrassed but also, strangely, warm? He was being over the top, but I think he was trying to do something good.

The muffled sound of what was going on outside of this room felt peaceful. I could finally hear my thoughts, hear how fast my heart was beating. Looking up from the sink, I finally saw how bad I looked. I was shaken, my hair more messy than usual, my eyes were glassy. When I glanced at my collarbone, I saw the redness from when the man nipped at my skin. “Gross,” I mumbled as I grabbed some toilet paper, wetted it and added some soap before scrubbing the spot.

Am I overreacting? No, he’s fucking disgusting. He didn’t do much though, but he could have. It’s been so long since some shit like this happened, I can’t make a big deal out of it, it’s stupid- A knock interrupted my thoughts, “Hey you good in there? The water’s been running for a while now, can I come in? I’m coming in-“ I dropped the paper towel in the trash and turned around to look at Atsumu with a bored expression.

“What if I was doing super private? You’re lucky there isn’t anyone else in the stalls, you’d be kicked out,” I said with a short laugh as I grabbed my bag, Atsumu stopped me and looked at me with a frown. “Why are you red?” He asked sternly.

“Maybe it’s an allergy,” I trailed off.

He shook his head, “But it’s not though, you didn’t do that to yourself, right?” “Dear- no no, I didn’t- maybe, kind of but no,” It wasn’t a good enough answer for him. The expression on his face was one I had never seen yet, perhaps had I never paid enough attention, or perhaps had he never shown it to me, but whichever it was, I felt guilty for making him look like this.

“Just the weird dude tried to kiss me or something, I don’t know, a bite, a nip, call it what you want. I didn’t want to see it, so I scrubbed it… It feels gross, I know it’s nothing and you might say I’m overreacting but I feel violated and-“ My breath caught in my throat, I swallowed my saliva and took a few deep breaths to talk down, “And it’s over, so yeah, let’s leave-“

“I wouldn’t say you’re overreacting; I think someone was a real jerk and like, invaded your personal space, and you’re definitely in the right to feel like that, you know? I feel like you don’t need me to feel sorry for you… so uh, you’re strong, and he’s got a big black eye, and he’s pretty lucky I didn’t rip his tongue off,” Atsumu said quickly, his eyes trying to catch mine, but I was playing with my hands, listening to each word leaving his lips.

If someone asked me, I would have said I didn’t need to hear those things. But it would have been a lie. I never would have thought hearing someone else tell me I was feeling something valid would make me feel so relieved. With shaky breaths, I looked up, eyes tearing up and shoved his shoulder playfully, “I was kidding when I said you had to prove you were the alpha or something,” I sniffed and wiped the tears that were threatening to fall, “You’ll be lucky if no one jumps you when we leave, you’re impulsive,”

“He deserved it! And he was ugly, now he’ll have to go home knowing someone so much hotter than him beat him up, and that he lost,” I laughed breathlessly at his words, rubbing the spot on my collarbone absentmindedly. “Well, I think he could have used a bit more kicks in the balls,” I said jokingly.

Nudging my shoulder, Atsumu said, “It can be arranged, you know,”

“Nah, we’re good, let’s just… Leave,” I said that, but I didn’t move. Nor did Atsumu. Someone walked behind us, and we waited until they were done cleaning their hands, and the door slammed behind them, to finally say something. “D’ya got lipstick?” Atsumu asked in hushed whisper, poking my bag.

Quirking a brow in confusion, I rummaged through my bag but didn’t find any. Instead, I found a pink highlighter, I was going to shove it back when Atsumu grabbed it, “That’ll do!” He uncapped it and started coloring his lips, I considered stopping him, but it was very fascinating and a bit funny.

“When’s your birthday? I might buy you one if you think that’s your color,” I said, huffing a laugh. Atsumu motioned for me to wait, a finger raised. I did just that.

When he was done, he handed me the highlighter back. “Stop me if you feel uncomfortable,” He said a bit too suspiciously.

I gave him a nervous smile, then he started leaning in, I leaned back avoiding his face then noticed he wasn’t trying to kiss me. Instead, he went lower and pressed his lips on the redder part of my skin, on my collarbone. I felt my heartbeat speed up but didn’t say anything. He quickly pulled back, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. “There! Now it’s not weird, it’s pretty, and it’s not him, it’s me, I think it’s a great upgrade.”

My cheeks were heating up as I gazed down at the kiss mark on my skin. We could barely see it, but I knew it was there. I could still feel the pressure of his lips against my skin. Tearing my gaze from it, I went to take some paper towel and wetted it, then grabbed Atsumu’s chin and proceeded to wipe his lips properly. “I don’t want you to lick your lip and just- eat the ink like a child- hey stop moving, you did that to yourself.” “You could at least say something!”

When I was done, I threw the paper towel but did not trust my voice to make any sort of coherent sound. Atsumu’s voice however had no problem to spur complete idiocies, “Nooo, don’t go all mute on me, you’re so sexy-“ “Did you really just say that?”

“And I stand by it,” He opened the door and told me to lead the way. The conversation was paused while we made our way outside, the loud music and people made it almost impossible to hear one another. What I could hear was the loud whines of the man at the bar while the bartender was tending to his ‘wounds’ which consisted of one black eye and that’s it. Rolling my eyes, I picked up the pace and exhaled loudly when I reached the outside, fresh air hitting my face instead of gross drunken air.

With Atsumu still behind, I pulled out my phone to look at what he had left on my skin. I pull out the flash to see properly. Idiot… why is it nice… no, no, it’s nothing, it’s just that, nice. Nothing more. Good method to hide the gross ass mark, good for me. Yeah.

“Ah! Soooo you like it so much you’re taking a pic of it? Bring me lipstick next time, I’ll leave an even better mark, maybe two-“ “I’m not taking a picture, I was checking-“ “It out, you were checking it out, because it’s hot, right?”

Maybe. “I think I preferred bastard Miya to loud Atsumu,” I taunted him, hoping he wouldn’t take it wrong. I was caught off guard when he looped his arm around my shoulders, “Nah ye don’t, come on, I’ll get you home,” “Thank God you didn’t say you’d bring me to your place, I would have gagged,” I joked, earning a scoff from the player. He bumped my hips with his, “You know what? It’s actually a great suggestion! I think the night’s just started, maybe we could watch a movie or something?”

My instinct was to refuse his offer. But then again, I would have to stay awake until I got news from Bokuto’s wellbeing, may it be from Kuroo’s phone or a new number if Hinata was still alive. “Don’t you try weird shit, I’m not falling asleep at your place, and it better not be freezing- and also it better not smell-“ “Alright, alright, I get it! My place’s pretty clean ye know? I barely spend time there, how can I dirty it?”

“Right. No weird shenanigans, okay?” Waving me off, Atsumu agreed, telling me it was going to be alright. He unlocked the car and we slipped in, finally surrounded by a comfortable silence.

I let my head hit the back of the seat and exhaled loudly, “How about we go get some food first?”

“Sounds like a plan! You pay for it since I’m paying for the gas of this beautiful baby,” He said as he gently slapped the car door. Giving him an incredulous smile, I said, “Yeah… No, I’m paying for my shit, you pay for yours,”

He threw his hands in an over exaggerated manner, “Fine! But I choose the movie then!”

“I genuinely couldn’t care less of what we’re watching, you do what you want-“ “Wall-E it is,” He started as he started the car, “I think it’s a poetic start to this relationship,”

“Fine by me, I’ve never seen it anyway,” I shrugged as I buckled my seatbelt. I regretted saying this when he looked at me in pure shock and started telling me how it made sense that I made such a bad metaphor.

God was this ride going to be long. But at least, I was no more bathed in tension and feeling the urge to jump off the car. I was feeling pretty content right now, and perhaps Bokuto was right. Perhaps Miya Atsumu was funny and just a little bit cool.

Just maybe.

[leah-halliwell92]

It’s Over

For @band--psycho​‘s bingo challenge. The prompt is enemies to lovers. Pairing is Tig x Reader

Note: (S/N) = sister’s name

“It was my sister,” you said coldly as you packed your bag.

Flashback

You’d just come back from a week long conference, Tig said he’d be on the road doing club stuff so timing couldn’t have been better. Everything went amazingly well, from your presentation to the doors that had opened for you and your career. Hell you could count the times someone told you to call em if you’re interested in a specific job. You’d done some light research and seen that most are out of state near the Maine area of the U.S. And while that seemed all well and good, you couldn’t just leave the family you’d made behind.

You were making Tigger’s favorite, ready to surprise him by taking it to the shop with promises of play time later. You loaded up the food into your car and made your way to T.Ms a happy grin on your face feeling giddy with all the pent up energy from not having seen your old man in a solid week. Yea there were calls but that shit ain’t the same.

You went through to the office waving at the boys as you passed by. You pressed a kiss to Chibs’ and Happy’s cheeks in greeting as you passed them by batting their hands away from the lunch bag.

“Nu uh,” you said with a grin, “This one is not for you. But let me know what you want me to bring for Sunday dinner and I’ll do my best. By the way have you seen Tiggy anywhere?”

The boys nodded happily but stilted at the question.

“He’s in the back,” Chibs said with a grin.

You noticed he didn’t look quite as teasing as he should have been but chalked it up to jet lag from the bike trip.

Happy didn’t look much better. You were sure if looks could kill someone would be dead with how cold and hard his eyes were.

“Come on little girl I’ll take you,” Happy said with a small smile.

“Lemme put this in tha lounge aye?” Chibs said reaching for the bag.

You furrowed your brows at them and the sudden odd behavior but gave Chibs the bag. You’d never needed any of the boys to take you to the back...

Happy didn’t say much on your way and you were going to say something when you heard moaning and heavy breathing.

You looked to Happy who nodded forward.

You walked up quietly hoping it was one of the prospects getting handsy with a crow eater. Your hopes were dashed at seeing Tig on a chair a woman bouncing on his lap. You covered your mouth to keep from gasping at who it was exactly that was on his lap. Your sister...

You made your way out to where Happy stood a sad look in his eyes.

You pulled out your phone and text widow, ‘Are there cameras in that room?’

You showed him the message and nodded as he confirmed it.

‘Get me a copy of that and make sure her face is visible,’ you typed in.

Happy looked at you startled, he’d never seen you so dead seat on something.

You turned around walked back into the room and took a picture of the deed tearful eyes cold and heart dead.

That done, you turned around and left. Out in the front, Happy and Chibs waited for you both concerned as they looked you over.

You took a seat in the lounge both boys at either side.

“Are ya gonna wait on ‘im?” Chibs asked quietly.

You shrug really not knowing what to do before sighing.

“Is it ok if I crash at either of you apartments?” You asked.

Happy nodded quietly, considering he never uses the place.

“I’ll help ya with your stuff,” Chibs said with a nod.

“No you won’t,” you say with conviction, “Despite everything going on between us now, he’s still your brother.”

“Yea...but if looks could kill he’d be dead,” Happy said with conviction.

You’d become family in the near 5 years you’d been with Tig. You meant a lot to them, even the prospects.

“I promise to keep in touch,” you say taking their hands in each of yours.

They nod and stand one to punch out the other to work the ladder not at all happy with how things ended.

As soon as Happy stepped out to punch out your sister walked out Tig not too far behind her.

“(Y/N)! You’re home!” Your sister said excitedly moving to hug you.

You kept your distance avoiding her hurt look and before she could say anything, you pulled out your phone showing her the picture you’d just taken. 

(S/N) paled at the image.

“It’s not what you think,” she said voice shaky. 

“No you’re right....him and I was not what I thought,” you said voice hard.

She shook her head pleadingly at that but before she could say anything...

“Baby!” Tig cried walking around (S/N) to envelope you in his arms.

You felt sick as he hugged you knowing where he’d been. It also didn’t help that (S/N) had been exactly were. 

“You ok?” He asked when you pulled away, “Did something happen?”

‘Yea you dick you cheated on me with my sister,’ you thought but shook your head and left without a backward glance Happy hot on your heels.

You were heaving from how angry and ready to break you were. Happy saw this and gently held you in place.

“Breath,” he said lowly as you both heard Tig yelling at Chibs.

“I can’t,” you said as tears fell.

“Chibs is being a door stop,” Happy said looking over your shoulder, “But if you wanna leave...”

“We leave after I do this,” you said and walked to Tig’s bike. 

You saw the men freeze as you looked at the bike a not so friendly look on your face.

Before Happy could do anything, you pulled out the knife Tig had given you for Christmas and slashed his tires making sure to leave the knife imbedded in the second tire.

You turn around to see a shocked and mouth agape Happy. 

“Ok...Now I can go,” you said and walked away to your car. 

You were stopped by your crying sister throwing her arms around you as she cried, “(Y/N) please!”

You pushed her off roughly not ready to deal with her yet and ran to your car.

You’d not sooner gotten in you car that you heard Chibs called out, “Move over lass! Ya ain’t in na condition to be drivin’.”

You were about to say no but was pushed to the passenger seat by the Scott. 

“Lemme drive lass, Hap’s holdin’ on ta Tig while ya make yer getaway,” he said with a small laugh as he remembered you’d slashed the bike tires, “Granted he won’ be goin’ nowhere on flat tires.”

Back at home, Chibs found empty boxes to start putting your things in as you told him what belonged to whom while you packed away your clothing.

~End Flashback~

“What the hell man!” You heard Tig yell at Chibs who was loading up the last of two boxes that held your things.

“Babe–”

“It had to be my sister,” you said not turning around continuing to pack your bag.

“Babe please!” He said desperately, walking to where you were and taking things out. 

You slapped his hand, hard, and repacked the clothing he’d taken out.

“And before you start, I saw you don’t give me the “it’s not what you think” crap,” you say as you packed up the last of your clothes.

“It didn’t mean anything!” He yelled.

“It meant enough for you to throw away 5 years together Alexander. Five fucking years I gave to you only to have it thrown in my face cuz my bitch ass of a sister made her cunt available to you while I was away for work,” you yelled turning to look at him, “And the worst thing is that I have no fucking clue how long this has been going on.”

Tig lowered his gaze and scuffed at the rug with his boot.

“How long Alexander?” You asked not really wanting to know the answer. 

“A month...” he mumbled out.

Chibs walked in just as Tig answered the question and looked at his brother in disbelief. 

“You sack o’ shite!” He yelled and punched Tig in the face, “You cheated on the best thing that has happened to ya with ‘er sister for a month! What was it Tig!? Was it the fresh pussy? That she was there? What the FUCK was it Tig!?”

“I don't know!” Tig yelled out as Chibs punched him while he was down, “I don’t know. She came onto me one night I’d mixed two drinks too many and next thing ya know I woke up with her on me.”

“Did it never make you stop and think to come clean!?” Chibs yelled.

“Dude she made me swear not to,” Tig said letting Chibs wale on him for the answer.

You on the other hand stood frozen as everything came to light. 

“She made you swear because of (S/H/N),” you said quietly. 

Chibs turned to look at you questions in his eyes.

“(S/N)’s husband is in the military and is diploid,” you said looking at Chibs, “She’s always been a horny bitch, sad she couldn’t just fuck a prospect and had to go for what wasn’t hers.”

Chibs approached you and nodded to the bags behind you on the bed. 

You nod and he takes them to the car.

“At least now I'm free to fuck any son I want,” you say cruelly, “Because now nothing is sacred, and that is on you. Enjoy the crows Alex, maybe they’ll help you forget about me.”

“But baby I love you!” He yelled after you.

You scoffed and said, “If you did you’d have come to me as soon as it happened. Not gone back for more....fuck you Alexander Trager and hope that this doesn’t make it’s way over seas.”

[imaginethatneathuh]

The Hanged Man: Mad Sweeney - American Gods

Mad Sweeney x friend!reader, platonic

Sweeney comes to you for a chat and you give him a wake up call.

Part of @dragon430′s Tarot Card Challenge, editing by her as well.

Requested by Anon -  Can you do a Mad Sweeney using The Hanged Man?

CW: Disillusionment, maybe some hints at depression, and mentions of death.

Word count: 1.4+ K

The town and bar are real places in Michigan. If you ever get the chance and are in Michigan, stop by the place. The food’s good and the people are cool.

•

Slow days were pretty common on weekdays. Any bartender worth their shoulder towel can tell you that. Compared to Fridays and Saturdays, the rest of the week, especially where you worked, were slower than molasses going uphill in winter.

Working at a bar in small towns is either Hell on Earth because it’s pretty much the only place around, or it’s Heaven on Earth ‘cause the town is so small. Your place, the North Bar, was a small, albeit popular, place in a village nestled in a valley. Every major place was on one street right through the middle. Like something out of an Old Western movie, but that’s just how small towns are. The North Bar got busy some nights and not so much on others. Best food around (not that that is saying much), and everyone makes sure that there is something to do, like Karaoke nights, corn hole tournaments, or pool. There’s always something, even if it’s not fun or popular with people.

A cousin of yours called your little town the “Lakeside of Michigan”. You couldn’t say whether or not that was true, but you preferred to call Lakeside the “Luther of Wisconsin”.

You wiped some crumbs into a trash bin as you cleaned a table. The Lunch “Rush” was over, and no one but you, the regulars like Chuck, and the other employees were here. It’s not like there were many of you, just one or two servers, the cook, dishwasher, and another bartender. Plus the owner, but she was busy in the back.

Good ole Chuck mulled about in a drunken state before sitting at the bar. You tossed your towel over your shoulder and shook your head.

“Come on, Chuckie boy. I think it’s about time you head on home now. You’ve been here since we opened and had plenty,” you said.

The old, balding man grumbled.

“Don’t make me call your daughter.” You crossed your arms. “Cause I can, and I will.”

He muttered som protests but after a hard glare from you, he stumbled up and out.

It’s not like you wanted to kick him out, but, hey, last time you let him drink to his heart's desire, you ended up having to call the Sheriff. You liked Chuck too much to let him spend any more time down at the jailhouse. He’d come back later anyway.

As you got back behind the counter, the other bartender, Joan, nudged you.

“Can I take off? You ain’t gonna need me here till later, anyway,” she said, gesturing to the now dead bar.

You shrugged. “Sure. I ain’t gotta problem with that.”

“Thanks!”

Once upon a time, you were much like Joan, ready to get the fuck out as soon as you could. Nowadays, it wasn’t too much like that. To you, there wasn’t a point in running off seeing as how, from all the years you’d been working, things never changed. Well, not for the town anyway. For you? You lost that enthusiasm that Joan had. Wasn’t the big of a loss anyway.

You’d been working here since before the North Bar had changed hands. Hell, you’d been here since the place was first takin’ root. And before it, you worked at the Grocers. And before that, at the wood mill. Course, if anyone asked, you’d say it was your ancestors who’d gone and done all that. You took after your cousin like that.

Because you’d worked here so long, you were the de facto boss, especially when the owner wasn’t around or too busy. But even she referred to you when things were going nuts. She frequently asked you for advice, and you were happy to give it.

As Joan went to clock out and leave, a man entered your bar.

With just a look, you knew he wasn’t from here. You knew everyone in town, and he, sure as Hell, Michigan, wasn’t one of them. From the smell and the feel of the mountain of a man, you knew he wasn’t human either. After a look over, you recognized the pesky Leprechaun.

“Sweeney, you’d better not drink me out of my liquor, ya hear?” You growled, scowling at him.

The Leprechaun sat at the bar, the stool groaning beneath him. “Just because ‘a that, I think I might.”

You glared at him, arms crossed.

“Southern Comfort ‘n Coke,” he said. The redhead stretched and sighed. “Been stuck in that fuckin’ car too long. Damn thing’s got me all stiff.”

As you got him his drink, you rolled your eyes. “Try being smaller. That might help.”

It was his turn to glare at you. The tree of a man never really cared for your sarcasm.

“What are you doing here, Sweeney? This place is too outta the way, too ‘blink, and you’ll miss it’ for you to be here on accident.”

He leant against the wooden bar and rubbed his neck, groaning. “It took me fuckin’ ages to get ‘ere. Drove right past it more times than I can count. The place is fuckin’ invisible. Fuckin’ villages, I swear. Shite’s the worst.”

You slammed your fist down, the liquid in Sweeney’s glass jumping and spilling over the side. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here? I will not ask again.” You stared at him, scowling, with both hands on the bar top.

He held your stare. “You’re the only one I could think of to talk to, Y/N. You know things. Understand things. Things I can’t.”

Sighing, you straightened. “I’m a bartender. That’s our little slice of magic even in a world without it.”

Sweeney nodded slowly.

“What do you need to get out?”

You were a bartender. Everyone talked to you about everything. From marriage disputes to petty arguments, everything found its way to you eventually. When people needed an ear and advice, the people of Luther’s first thought was you. Just like Sweeney and others like him.

You supplied the drink as Sweeney talked. And, boy, oh boy, did he talk. His pain never seemed to end, and he never let up to let you say anything. Which was fine by you. Sometimes, people just needed an ear to rant into.

The Leprechaun started to slow in his ranting.

“I’m stuck, Y/N. So fuckin’ stuck,” he said. “I can’t stay ‘ere. It’ll drive me madder than I already am. But, I don’t know where else ta be or ta go. The bar life, the fightin’ life, it’s all I know. Everythin’ else is a blur. It’s not like I can leave the States either. I’m stuck ‘ere, in this rut, and it feels like if I move, I die.”

You nodded quietly and poured him another drink. “Then die.”

The Mad King looked at you.

You shrugged. “It’s better to die living than live already dead.” You pointed to the door, liquor bottle in your hand. “I seen too many folk come through my doors living like the dead do, same thing every day. They ne’er change and ne’er want to. Sometimes, I get them to live just a little with a game or two of pool or corn hole. Sometimes I even get people to play Euchre. Maybe some songs to lighten their mood and food to heavy their stomach, but ne’er for long. Some live like the dead, and some die living. Some live life, some don’t. I’d rather die living fully than live like I’m already dead. Maybe you should try it.”

He took in your words. Slowly, but he got there. Eventually. “Then why do ya stay here?” He asked.

You blinked in surprise at his question. It was true. You walked through those doors every day doing the same thing every single goddamn day, only sometimes changing it up. You lived like most of the folk ‘round here, but you always explained it away as: “They need me,” you said, shrugging it off.

Sweeney finished his last glass in one gulp before setting it down with a thud. “Seems to me, you need them more.”

They worshipped you just like your cousin’s town worshipped him. Albeit in different ways, but still. It wasn’t like you made this town or anything, but you had lent a helping hand. Their worship kept you alive. Of course, you needed them more.

He stood to leave, but first, he leant over the bar and said, “Thanks for the chat. It helped.”

You nodded as the redhead left. Quietly, you hoped you would never see him again.

You would, eventually, much to your chagrin.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Merchant of Death

One-Shot

Description: Mob!Thanos is a collector of the most precious things in the world. But what happens when his eyes upon you?

Warning - Mentions of violence and beheading

Words- 5400~

This one-shot is my entry for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 's writing challenge. I used the following image prompt. Check out this link to participate in the challenge!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Nobody knew his real name. Nobody cared. Named after the Greek God of death himself, Thanos was modern day's omen of slaughter. Being the leader of one of the oldest mob families in New York, Thanos commanded a certain level of respect amongst his peers. It wasn't just that his heritage was daunting. His towering height, broad shoulders, vast expanse of muscled torso and legs were enough to intimidate even the toughest of the fighters. Always dressed in an impeccably crisp suit, his bald head, sharp eyes and a strong, set jaw easily gave the impression that he was the owner of a multi-billionaire corporation.

It wouldn't be wrong to call his drugs and weapons empire a well-oiled corporation. His 10 fingers were dipped in blood in multiple countries throughout the seven continents, yes even in Antarctica. 

Thanos was a well-known figure. Everybody knew who he was, knew what he did, but nobody, not even the law authorities, could ever connect him with any illegal activity, be it harbouring and selling of illegal guns and drugs, or smuggling goods to his centres across the globe.

For all his wrongdoings, Thanos did donate 10% of his revenue to the poor, the homeless, the downtrodden. Almost like a twisted version of Robinhood, where he ripped off the rich with highly priced drugs and paid a part of the amount to the poor.

For this reason, there were two sides of him which were portrayed in the media, those who earned his favour called him Messiah of the Poor, while the others who had witnessed his ire addressed him as the Merchant of Death. But in both the iterations, it had been made ample clear that nobody could make Thanos bleed.

That's why it came as a shock when the Chief of Police, Steve Rogers, had managed to shoot Thanos in an encounter. Looking at their leader fall to the ground, Thanos' men commenced their feral attack on the protectors of the law, driving them back. 

The bullet had pierced his left forearm, but hopefully hadn't made it far into his body, thanks to the bulletproof vest sewn into the jacket. 

His men rushed him to the nearest hospital as he put pressure on the wound. 

...

Being the night of 31st December, the ER was more crowded than usual, with drunk idiots involved in car accidents, accidental weapon discharges, or some even sustaining injuries by bursting fire crackers at a close range. 

You silently cursed yourself. Yeah saving lives was noble and all, but spending the entire New Year's Eve in the hospital, surrounded by blood and equally bloody cries of their families and friends really got on your nerves at times.

You steeled yourself as you entered the operation theatre (OT) for another surgery. This moron's druggie friend had shot him in the chest because he thought he was someone else. This would be a complicated surgery, as the bullet was deep inside the muscle, almost touching the heart. One miscalculation could result in more complications.

Halfway through the surgery, you heard a commotion outside the OT. Furrowing your head, you tried to concentrate, but the noise grew louder. You focused your mind on removing the bullet. As if choreographed, your instrument touched the bullet just as a gun was fired right outside your door. 

Your colleagues jumped, but you set your concentration on removing the piece of metal from this man's body. 

The doors to the OT were kicked open as a tall, thin man entered weilding a gun, asking for you. Your staff promptly pointed at your bent figure. 

You were still focused on extracting the bullet when the gun cocked next to your ear, "C'mon out Doctor, we need you to treat our boss," Maw commanded you.

Ignoring him, you carefully pulled the metal upwards, looking at the live scan feed on the screen for direction. 

"I don't think you heard me Doctor. Leave this man and come with me. Our boss needs you. I will not repeat myself," warned Maw, his venomous voice laced with concern for his boss.

You did not move.

When he pressed the gun to your forehead, your staff gasped in terror, but you refused to budge.

As soon as the damned bullet was out, you dropped it onto a tray along with your gloves, instructed your staff to stitch up the wound, and wordlessly looked at the greasy-haired Maw. 

He beckoned you to follow him into Thanos' room where he was being prepped for surgery. You saw Dr Yellowstone tending to him as you approached. "I am sorry Doctor, I told them that you were in a surgery but..." you brushed him off, asking to see the preliminary reports. Dr Yellowstone explained that the bullet wound wasn't deep, and that a simple surgery headed by him would have sufficed, but they were insistent to get you to do the surgery. 

"Of course," Maw's sickeningly smooth voice was back in your ear, "We wanted someone who's the best for our boss. And you are the best surgeon in the entire state, aren't you Doctor?" he asked with a sneer.

You continued to ignore him, coordinating with your staff. As Thanos was put in a wheelchair, Maw pulled out his gun again, cocking it near your forehead, "Our boss better be able to move that hand again miss, or tonight will be the last time you use both your hands."

That threat pushed you over the edge. All evening and night of dealing with insensitive jerks like this guy over here had finally made you snap. 

You turned towards him, looked at the barrel of his gun and slapped him right across his cheek. 

Whether it was the force of your slap, or the fact that your assault had been completely unexpected, nobody could tell, but Maw staggered backwards, his free hand resting on his long reddening cheek where you had struck him. 

Thanos jerked in attention at your action. His pain seemed forgotten as he looked at you. Your plump figure stood tall as you glared at Maw. 

"Put that gun away or there's more where that came from," you warned him spitefully. 

"Nurse, take him to the OT. Dr Yellowstone, coordinate with the blood bank, we might need extra blood. I will see to it that the anesthesia is ready to administer," you left the room after instructing your team. As if you were going to wait around to witness the reaction of Thanos's right-hand man.

In the OT, you saw Thanos' large figure laid on the bed. You approached him with the anesthesia, but he held your hand with his uninjured arm. "Don't," he spoke in his thick voice. "It will hurt. The pain might lead to further complications," you explained. "No. I want to feel your touch," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and cringed on the inside.

As the surgery began, Thanos kept his dark eyes on you. Neither once did he wince with pain, or avert his gaze. Ignoring him, you set about to remove the bullet from his arm, a quick procedure. 

"Dr Yellowstone," you said from behind your mask, "stitch the wound and dress it."

"Where are you going?" Thanos asked you plainly, as if you both were sitting in a coffee shop. You ignored him and removed your gloves as Dr Yellowstone approached the patient. 

Thanos moved his arm, "No. You will not. She will," he nodded towards you. 

Audibly groaning, your assistant helped you in wearing a new pair of gloves.

Finally, with the wound stitched and dressed, you left the OT to tell Maw the good news.

…

3 hours after the surgery, Thanos looked at your file while resting on his bed. Compiled by Maw, this file had every detail of your life, no matter how minute. You had captured his attention unlike anything else, anyone else. He flipped through the pages, learning more about your family, friends, hobby, and profession. 

His member twitched when he saw your images from social media. Beneath the doctor's coat, you were plump, curvy and thick, just the way he liked his women. He paused, drinking in your appearance in a swimsuit. Placing a finger on your face, he slowly traced your outline, his finger respecting every bump, every bend till he reached your covered mound. He pressed it, as if hoping to see you react, but you kept on smiling in the image. 

Eyes heavy with sleep, he looked around his room. His quiet quarters screamed with opulence. Decorated with the world's most expensive marble, motifs covered in 24k gold, diamond chandelier and Persian rugs, his room paid homage to some of the priceless wonders of the planet. But looking at them now, Thanos realised that none held a candle next to you. 

As he settled in to sleep, he smirked. You would make a nice addition to his room.

…

A week later, Thanos surprised his men by driving himself to your hospital. He had taken an appointment, afterall, his wound needed to be checked.

He knocked on your cabin door, entering only when you said to. He smiled warmly at your startled expression, standing patiently next to the chairs across your desk. 

"Dione," he interrupted you, "Please call me Dione."

You gathered yourself quickly, "Mr Thanos I-"

He smiled cheekily, he knew he had struck at the right place, at the right time. Extending his arm, he reached out for your palm, holding it gently in his. "Please come in. You must be tired," he said, leading you into your own house. 

You squinted your eyes. You remembered reading the strange name on your list of appointments today. "What can I help you with Mr Dione?"

Thanos smiled. He liked the way his name rolled off your lips. "May I take a seat?" You nodded.

Thanos barely fit in the chair, his vast thighs almost bulging out from the sides of the chair. "I think my wound needs to be redressed."

"I thought Maw said he had the best doctors at your beck and call," you spat at him.

"I owe you an apology," he said slowly, "Maw's behaviour that night was appalling, to say the least. I have never hurt or intended to hurt healthcare workers. I regret his actions. Please accept my sincere apologies."

Thanos or Dione, surprised you for the second time that day. His acknowledgement of his staff's misbehaviour left you dumbfounded.

He cleared his throat, "As I was saying, I think my wound needs to be redressed." He turned to his side as much as he could, and displayed the bloodied bandage on his arm. 

You asked him to sit on the patient's examining bed in your office and unwrapped his bandage.

"Does it bleed everyday?" you asked.

"No, it started bleeding today. As soon as it did I thought I should visit you."

Thanos looked at you closely. He studied every contour of your face. His right hand fought the urge to cup your cheek and pull you closer to him.

You traced the wound on his left arm and straightened your back, fully aware of his intense gaze on you. 

"Mr Thanos…,"

"Mr Dione, please," he interrupted you.

"Mr Thanos," you asserted, "This wound has been reopened by a knife. And judging by the angle of the cut, I think it was you who did it," you stared at his eyes.

He whispered your name, "I just wanted to see you again."

"It's Dr (Y/N) for you," you spoke sharply, "I will fix this wound now. But if you inflict harm upon yourself again, then I will not be able to help you."

Thanos saw you grab your kit and come near him, "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't think there was any foot involved, Mr Thanos. The only things that were involved were a gun and my palm on Maw's cheek."

He chuckled softly at the memory. He loved the fire burning in your eyes. He wanted to see what would you look like burning up on his bed, riding waves of pleasure with him.

"Let me make it very clear, because people like you need to get everything spelled out for them," the venom dripping from your words brought his attention back to you, "I do not want to be involved with you Mr Thanos. I have no intention of being a mobster's trophy girlfriend. If you are really thankful for what I did, then you will leave me alone and never set a foot in this hospital again. Have I made myself clear?" you stared at his hungry eyes as you finished bandaging him.

Nobody on the entire planet, not even the President himself, dared to speak with Thanos in that tone. And here you were, staring him down as if he was worthless. It only made him hungrier, knowing that claiming you would be the sweetest reward he can give himself.

…

The rest of the week was thankfully uneventful for you. On Saturday night, you slowly climbed the stairs to your floor, feeling relieved. At least you had the whole of tomorrow to relax. 

Reaching your apartment, you found the door unlocked. You stepped backwards, deciding to call the police from your building's security office. 

Just then, your door swung open and a smiling Thanos cheerfully greeted you, "Welcome home doctor! Dinner is almost ready. Why don't you take a relaxing hot bath? I have already filled your tub with warm water."

After the exhausting week you had, you had never expected to find Thanos in your home, cooking dinner and preparing a bath. All you could do was stare at him with your mouth open, his black pants draping his thighs perfectly, the blue shirt hugging his muscled arms and torso as if second skin and to top it all, he was wearing your apron, the one with the cute pandas on it. The apron didn't even cover the distance between what you guessed were his nipples.  

"I am not Thanos. I am Dione," he voice sounded sincere, "You asked Thanos to leave you alone, not Dione."

You barely felt his touch as he held your palm, again astonished at how gentle this huge beast of a man can be. 

He locked the door behind you, took your purse and coat and knelt to untie your shoelaces. You jumped back at that gesture, finally coming to your senses. "What… what are you doing?" you managed to ask.

He looked up at you, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable if your shoes were removed?" 

"No."

"No?" Thanos asked.

"Yes, I mean no. No, I meant what…"

Thanos shook his head, amused as he reached down to untie your shoes, ignoring your protests. He got up slowly, his body a mere inch away from yours. He held your eyes with his as he reached behind your head, unclipping your hair. He stood mesmerized as your hair fell down your shoulders, his hand massaging the spot where they were bunched up on your scalp. 

You purred at his ministrations, your eyes suddenly widening as you heard the sound escape your lips. He let you move back as you held his gaze. Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive?! 

You closed your eyes. No he's a mobster. You cannot be involved with him. No. No. No. Control yourself.

After that evening, you saw Thanos, (or Dione, you didn't really care) everyday in your home. You saw him first thing in the morning as he cooked you a hearty breakfast, and the last person for the day when he made dinner and tucked you in your bed.

You opened your eyes. You can do this. "Thanos and Dione are the same person. I don't want to be involved with you. Leave. Right now," you half-heartedly snarled, reaching for the door. But he put a hand on the lock first, stopping you. 

"They aren't the same person. Thanos would never cook for anyone, even for himself. He wouldn't tolerate your disrespectful tone and arrogance. But I am. I want to-"

"Excuse me? Arrogance?" you cocked an eyebrow, "Do you realise the amount of shit I have had to go through after I operated on you? The FBI, CBI, Police and God knows what came pounding down my doors, accusing me of harbouring and aiding a criminal."

"I am well aware," he admitted tersely, "I have made sure that you will not be bothered again."

Your eyes widened as his words sunk in, "Did you kill them?" you whispered, your hands immediately flying to your mouth.

"I didn't," he stated.

A frown formed on your face as you tried to unpack his confession. "Did Thanos get them killed?" you asked with purpose.

Just then, the oven's timer chimed. "Ahh, dinner is ready. I made your favourite lasagna. There's also garlic bread and a cucumber mint salad. Do you still want to take a bath before dinner?" he asked casually as if he hadn't murdered a squad of officers. 

Sensing your hesitation, he came over to you, and stepped in your space, "Give me a chance," he urged, "I am not the monster they paint me to be. Allow me to show you who Dione is. Let me cherish you. I promise, as long as I am with you, I will not indulge in any criminal activity. Please. Give us a chance," he finished earnestly, taking both your palms in his hands.

You slowly raised your eyes to meet his, breathing in his luscious, musky scent. His hand caressed your cheek, weaving through your hair as he pulled you closer, delicately. His soft exhale on your lips weakened your knees. But he stopped. The handsome bastard was waiting for you to come closer. 

"I will walk a 1000 steps to reach you," he whispered quietly, "if you just take one towards me."

His other hand started a torturous journey up your arm, his touch feather light. His thumb slowly traced the outline of your bottom lip, coming to rest behind your head. 

For a second, you were lost in his ministrations. For a second, you wanted to give in to the stillness of the night. 

But a loud crash, and a woman's blood-curdling scream interrupted your peace. You jumped, looking in the direction of the noise. Thanos followed your gaze and smiled. He hummed with satisfaction, "Where were we?"

You shook out of his gentle grip and headed towards the direction of the commotion. As you peered down your window, you let out a scream. Down on the road, the body of a SWAT agent was sprawled on top of an indented car. It seemed as if he had fallen off the top of your neighbouring building. 

Coming up behind you, Thanos vowed, "I would never engage in illegal activities when I am with you. But Thanos will destroy the world if that's what it takes to protect you."

…

Breakfast in Milan, luncheons in Athens and late night hot chocolate in Paris was enough to sway even the most heartless of the human beings. But you were still on your toes, waiting for this dream to turn into an ugly nightmare. 

That wasn't all. He started buying you groceries, and even basic amenities like toothpaste and hairbrush. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw that he had even replenished your tampons.

For all his drawbacks, you couldn't ignore the fact that he never touched you without your consent. He treated you with respect, and cared for you as if you were made with glass. Some nights, when you came home unbelievably late, he was ready to massage your aching feet, while patiently listening to you rant about your day.

The time you spent with him almost felt domesticated. But you knew it was borrowed. Time went by and you started accompanying him on his trips as he refused to let you stay behind. You saw very little of Maw on these trips. Instead his other henchwoman, Proxima, was assigned to you. 

"What is holding you back?" he asked you one day, as he brought dinner to your room in Venice, overlooking the city. "I have expressed my love for you in as many ways as I could," his eyes roamed over your body, "I think I have managed to strike the perfect balance between Thanos and Dione. I have done good on my promise to make sure you never see the ugly side of my business. Then why do you still refuse to come to me?"

You looked at him with a frown, "What makes you think I do not see the ugly side of your business? Do you know the amount of drug overdose cases we get in a day?"

Thanos looked out the window, "All those people are aware of the ill-effects of drugs. If they still choose to take it, then how does that make me the villain? Somebody else will sell the drugs if I don't."

"Really? That's your justification? So you owe nothing to the people whose lives are destroyed by your drugs and guns? What about the poor? The young who are addicted to your substance?" you argued in an accusing tone.

"I donate 10% of my earnings to them. But I can't help everyone," he justified.

Thanos chewed in silence as he considered your words, "Will you give yourself to me if I donate half of my wealth?" he looked at you after a few moments.

"10% is not even a dip in your ocean of riches Dione. You want to talk about striking a balance? Then donate 50% of your wealth to those who actually need the money. Auction off your antiques, your collectibles. Build schools, donate to NGOs, be good and help the people, the portion of the society who needs you the most," you tried to convince him.

You softly pushed your plate away, "No amount of charity can justify the killings Dione."

As Thanos gripped his fork tighter at your words, you swore you saw the metal bend. "I have to do what needs to be done to protect you. Even if it means spilling the blood of a few agents of the law. Do you think they will protect you from me? You are nothing but a source of information for them. As soon as they are done with you they will toss you aside like useless garbage. Your identity, your entire life will be erased from the record. You don't want me to protect you like that? Okay. Then what would you have me do?" he demanded an answer.

You met his gaze, your silence filling the conversation with words.

"I cannot just quit. I have spent my whole life building this empire and I am not about to give it up," he claimed through gritted teeth.

"But what did it cost you?" It was your turn to surprise him with your question. 

"Everything," he admitted, "and more. But this was all I have ever had. There was no reason for me to leave this-"

"You do have a reason now," you interrupted him. 

You dragged your chair towards Thanos and sat beside him. Placing a hand on his heart, you kept your eyes on him. "You have a reason now," you repeated in a whisper. 

You saw a myriad of emotions cross his eyes. Taking advantage of his astonishment, you kissed his shoulder and rested your forehead on it. You felt his heart beating faster. 

Thanos was glad your head was on his shoulder, as he didn't want you to see the tears in his eyes. This was the first time you had initiated any form of affection towards him. He held your hand, the one on his heart, and kissed it with a promise.

…

Officer Natasha Romanoff hurried towards Steve Rogers' office. She entered without knocking. 

"Hey there! Knock before you-" Tony Stark, the Weapons Contacter tried to speak before Natasha cut him short.

"Steve, you need to hear this," Natasha looked at him. 

In the last few months, thanks to Steve's bravery in the shoot-out with Thanos's men, he had been promoted to the highest ranking covert field agent at the FBI. 

Steve nodded, requesting Tony to reschedule the meeting. As soon as they had the privacy, Natasha filled him in on the news. "Thanos is donating 50% of his wealth to charities and NGOs across the country. He's moving with his girl to Mauritius."

"He's building a new base there?" Steve cocked an eyebrow.

"No, he's retiring. If he gets on that plane then we will lose him forever."

"Hmmm," he considered her words, "I have a plan."

…

Thanos had advised you against going back to your apartment, arguing that all of your stuff was already packed and on the way to the flight. But you were relentless. You had to go back to retrieve a piece of your legacy which you were sure his men must have missed. 

He watched in amazement as you removed the photo frame from your wall and tore the wallpaper, revealing a cavity inside. 

You retrieved a box, wiping the dust off of it. Walking towards Thanos, you opened the box to reveal 6 rings. "These belonged to my grandfather. He always believed that there are six traits that make a man. He gave me these rings on his deathbed, and asked me to pass it on to the man who I deemed worthy." Pointing to the ring with the purple stone, you recited your grandfather's words, "Be with a man who commands Power," yellow stone- "But make sure he has a kind Soul," orange stone- "He should be able to read your Mind," green stone- "However, he must know the value of Time," red stone- "He should be able to accept his Reality," and lastly, the blue stone- "But, he should give you the world, the galaxy, the entire Space, if need be."

Holding out the box for him, you presented him with the rings. You smiled indulgently as you wiped his tears. He took your hand in his, kissing your fingers, your palm, your wrist. You laughed as he hugged your hand, "This is the second most precious gift I have ever been given."

You tilted your head, puzzled, "What is the most precious gift?"

"You."

…

Steve saw you and Thanos exit the building, hand in hand like two lovestruck teenagers. "Team Alpha, if you have a clear shot take it. But do not fatally wound him. We need him alive. I repeat, we need him alive. Team Omega, standby for the extraction. Team Beta, grab the First Aid Kit as soon as the Patient is hit" he commanded into the walkie-talkie using their codewords for you and Thanos.

"You still haven't told me where are we going," you pouted slightly as you walked towards the car. "Patience love, all in good time," Thanos smiled down at you. "This is White Wolf Team Alpha, firing in 3...2...," Bucky spoke in his earpiece.

"Wherever we are going, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," you spoke. "...1." You suddenly turned to face Thanos, and started walking backwards, your hand still in his. 

The bullet pierced the space above your heart, before colliding with Thanos's bulletproof vest. Gunshots reduced to dull thuds around you as you collapsed in Thanos's arms, your blood staining his shirt. 

You didn't notice when he carried you to the car. You didn't notice the speeding car coming to a halt. All you could hear was his panicked voice, and feel his pounding heart.

"Maw why are we stopping?" Thanos screamed at his henchman.

"Sire, there is a traffic jam ahead. We can't take any other route. There are rows of cars behind us. We are trapped," he said regretfully.

"I don't care! Kill them all, clear the road with explosives. She needs to get to a hospital NOW!" Thanos's voice boomed as panic gripped his heart.

"Sire we can't use explosives, the road might cave in. Proxima is arranging for a mobile hospital as we speak. They should be here soon," Maw spoke with hope.

Cradling you in his arms, Thanos pushed your hair back from your face, "Stay with me. Please stay with me. Don't leave me now. Please… no…"

"Hey," you managed to say in a cracked voice as tears escaped his eyes, "Dione," he looked at you, "I will... always be with you... my love," you struggled to caress his cheek as he held your arm. 

"Please please please no," he pleaded.

You gasped as a new jolt of pain ran through your body, "I… I love you… Di… Dione," you smiled.

A heart-wrenching scream escaped Thanos as he held your lifeless body. His anguish lost in the traffic of vehicles blaring their horns.

…

"Sire," Maw's voice broke Thanos from his reverie. He turned to look at the box in Maw's hand. In the dim light of his room, he opened the lid to see the severed head of James Buchanan Barnes. 

"Steve Rogers has gone underground sire, but we will soon find him," Maw promised. 

"He is not the real problem Maw," Thanos turned back to the window, "Do you remember what the doctor had said? If we would have gotten her to the hospital in time, she would have been alive today."

He paused, looking down the crowded city before him, "She died because we couldn't get her to the hospital earlier. What had caused the traffic jam?"

"Two cars had gotten into an accident, which caused a pile up on the road," Maw explained.

"That pile up wouldn't have occurred 10 years ago. In the last 2 decades, there has been a population boom which has ended up putting a strain on resources. Governments across the world are refusing to tackle this problem and in fact, are boastful of the increase in their population." As if on cue, he saw large groups of people fill up the sidewalk as hundreds of cars poured onto the road, everybody eager to reach home after their workday.

"What do you mean sire?"

"The scales of the world have been tipped unevenly, Maw. Balance needs to be restored to the order of the planet. The rich can't have an endless supply of luxury while the poor scramble for basic sustenance. She was right, we need to help the poor, but we can't wipe out those in power completely."

Thanos looked at the setting sun with determination, "It is time to kill half of humanity."

Maw inhaled sharply, "Sire! How would we manage-"

"The drugs," said Thanos simply, "50% of our cargo will contain lethal drugs till we achieve our target. Distribute it randomly throughout our supply chain for the next 6 months."

Maw paused for a moment. The severity of this crime left him dumbstruck. "Sire," he spoke at last, "She wouldn't have wanted this."

Thanos looked at the 6 rings on his fingers. "She wanted to live Maw. But she couldn't. She always tried to help people as much as she could. This is the only way we can fulfill her wish, by helping people across the globe."

"By killing people across the globe," Maw meekly argued.

"You kill everyday for a living Maw. Why has this idea turned your silver tongue into a knot?"

He could only gulp in response.

"The world needs correction Maw. Now more than ever. The lethal drugs should be shipped from tomorrow onwards. I would find it unpleasant to feed your body to our dogs, if you fail your duty," Thanos' thinly veiled threat hung in the air like a sword. 

Maw bowed down, "As my sire wishes," and left the room in quite a hurry.

Thanos walked towards your painting on the wall opposite to his bed, the only ornamentation in his otherwise desolate room. 

"You will see my love," he cooed, "we will see the sun rise on a grateful world together."

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

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[tenroseforeverandever]

A Bottle of Bubbly

Characters: Ninth Doctor; Rose Tyler

Tags: Human AU; New Year’s; meet-cute; fluff; hurt/comfort;mentions of cheating; non-graphic mentions of war; drinking; strong language

Notes: Well, here I am again… fashionably late, as usual, an entry for the 31 Days of Ficmas. I wrote just two stories for Ficmas this year, and while I used multiple prompts for each, ironically, the Day 1 prompt, Snowed In, and the Day 31 prompt, New Beginnings, were the forces chiefly driving the muse for my first and second (last!) story, respectively.  

The inspiration for this story was a random prompt I found online somewhere (I don’t even remember the exact wording…) The @doctorroseprompts  prompt from the 31 Days of Ficmas, New Beginnings, was also inspiration for both main characters, although the words aren’t specifically stated in the text. But the spirit of them is strong and a guiding theme throughout the story. I also used the Ficmas prompts shopping and countdown, and the Winter Fic Bingo prompt night. 

As always, my love and gratitude to my wonderful betas, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci. Thank-you for making me better. I’m an eternal fiddler, so I fiddled with this since they saw it… but all mistakes are mine anyway!

Summary: Rose made directly for the liquor aisle, determined that what she really wanted to bring in the New Year was a bottle of bubbly. The shop was nearly deserted, except for the unlucky few employees who had drawn the short straw for the night’s graveyard shift, so she was shocked to find another customer in the liquor aisle, standing in front of the wine shelves, his hand around the neck of the very last bottle of sparkling wine.

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A Bottle of Bubbly

Rose Tyler staggered out into the night. The pub door swung shut behind her, silencing the raucous shouts and cheers and endless chatter. As she stood on the doorstep, the bubble of silence clung around her like a hug, before dissipating into the city, replaced by the steady rumble of traffic. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs and clear the spinning of her head.

She was alone.

New Years-fucking-Eve and she was alone. Not exactly how she had planned her evening to go, but she swore to herself, it was the last bloody time, Jimmy Stone, her cheating ex-boyfriend, would ever get another chance to ruin her life.

But Rose didn’t want to think about him right now. He was now officially part of her past and could rot in hell for all she cared. What she did want to think about was enjoying the rest of the night and bringing in the New Year properly plastered. She’d already made a decent start of it with a couple glasses of wine and a few shots. She supposed she could try out a few different spots (far away from Jimmy-the-Wanker), and do a regular old pub crawl, solo-style. Dressed to kill, she reckoned she’d never be without a drink in hand and would probably have no trouble finding a bloke to pull. 

A car whizzed by, drunken twats hanging out the passenger windows, catcalling at her, spouting some shite about having her “seeing fireworks all night long.” She tugged her coat tighter around herself and sighed. On second thought, shagging complete strangers wasn’t really her thing. Maybe she could meet up with Mickey, instead, at the local near the Estate. With a little coaxing, he might take her home for a cheeky shag to bring in the New Year. It wouldn’t exactly be fireworks, but it would be safe and familiar. And she wouldn’t be alone. Mickey had never been able to say no to her.

But then – she sighed, and her shoulders sagged – she’d have to explain herself, answer all his nosy questions, admit things she’d rather keep to herself for now. Everyone would know, soon enough. No doubt the Estate would be rife with the gossip of her falling-out with Jimmy by daybreak. Besides, she’d be taking Mickey away from Trisha Delaney. That wasn’t fair, doing to Trisha exactly what had just been done to her.

“For fuck’s sake,” she snorted as she stumbled onto the pavement, her head woozy with drink, “I’m worried about hurting Trisha Delaney’s feelings. The stupid cow! Clearly, I’m thinkin’ too bloody hard about this. More to the point, I’m able to think too bloody hard about this. And I’m talking to myself… Blimey, I need another drink.”

Setting out on her quest for another pub (just for drinks, no pulling, she reminded herself), she tottered down the street, swaying precariously on her too-high heels, tugging down her too-short dress as the bitter wind bit through the too-sheer fabric of her tights. This was rubbish, hopping from pub to pub. All she really wanted was something strong to drink, her warm flat, and her telly. She’d be alone, but she’d be warm and, with any luck, thoroughly pissed long before midnight.

Decision made, she hopped on the nearest bus, and half an hour later, with the effects of her earlier drinks lamentably wearing off, she trotted into the 24-hour Tesco, close to the Estate. She made directly for the liquor aisle, determined that what she really wanted to bring in the New Year was a bottle of bubbly.

The shop was nearly deserted, except for the unlucky few employees who had drawn the short straw for the night’s graveyard shift, so she was shocked to find another customer in the liquor aisle, standing in front of the wine shelves, his hand around the neck of the very last bottle of sparkling wine.

“Oi! That’s my bottle, mate!”

The man turned to her, his brow knit quizzically above his aquiline nose. “Excuse me?” he challenged in a strong Manc accent.

“That’s my bottle,” she reiterated.

“No,” he placed the bottle into his shopping basket with a tight-lipped smile, “it’s not.” Without another word, he turned his back to her and walked away up the aisle with long strides.

“Fuck,” Rose muttered through gritted teeth and rushed after his receding form. “Oi, Mister! Mister!” She caught up with him just as he reached the end of the aisle and she tugged on the battered leather sleeve of his jacket.

He swung around, rolling his eyes at the sight of her. “Oh, it’s you again!”

“Yup, jus’ me. Hello! The owner of that bottle of fizz.” She sidled up to him and flashed him what she hoped was a winning smile. She even poked her tongue between her teeth. That always had blokes dribbling on their shirts.

Much to Rose’s disappointment, the man remained unmoved, stony-faced as ever. Then with a snort, he turned and walked away from her once more.

“Oi! Mister!” she yelped, scurrying to catch up to him again. “You can’t jus’ go swannin’ off like that…”

He didn’t even break his stride. “Yes, I can. ‘Ere I am. This is me, swannin’ off.” He gave the shopping basket a defiant little shake.

Rose knew she should just give it up at this point, go back to the liquor aisle and find something different to drink, but she was determined to have that wine. After having had her night ruined, she reckoned she deserved to have something special. “Hey, Mister! C’mon! You can’t just walk away. That’s not fair. Mister! Mist– Oooph!” She nearly crashed into him when he suddenly stopped in front of her.

He spun around and glared at her. “Seems fair enough to me. W’at isn’ fair is you not lettin’ me do my shoppin’ in peace. Now, scram!”

Rose held her ground, meeting his gaze. He was a striking figure, quite a bit older than she, dark and brooding, his features unconventionally handsome below his military haircut. She should have been intimidated, but instead she found herself getting lost in the blue of his eyes as they flashed down at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I could call security, ya know! Tell them you took it from me. So, it’s your choice. Hand it over, or I’ll start screamin’ for help.”

He scoffed. “Is that supposed to sound tough?”

“Sort of.”

He called her bluff, “Doesn’t work,” and started walking again, but this time she tripped along by his side. She wasn’t going to let him go, not while he still had that bottle.

“Mister… I need that wine! If you knew what I’ve been through tonight…”

“You need to leave me alone. Looks to me like you’ve ‘ad quite enough to drink already.”

“C’mon, Mister. Please.”

“No! An’ it’s Doctor.”

Rose quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You keep calling me ‘Mister’. If you’re so set on using honorifics, you’d better use the right one. I go by Doctor.”

“Doctor? Is that supposed to sound impressive?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“If you’re a doctor, how comes you’re shoppin’ at a 24-hour Tesco… in Peckham?”

“I live ‘ere. Jus’ ‘round the corner.” He stopped at the deli counter and tossed some packages of sandwich meats and some cheese into his basket.

“What? On the estate? You must be new. I haven’ seen you ‘round ‘ere before.”

“That’s ‘cause I jus’ moved in this afternoon, me, and I’m having this champagne (or whatever the hell it is) to celebrate.”

“Blimey, don’t think we’ve ever had a doctor livin’ on the estate, before.” Rose narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at him, curious. “W’at’s a doctor doin’ livin’ ‘ere anyway?”

He didn’t speak, just stared at her with eyes cold as ice, and his jaw set and tense, and Rose bit her lip, wishing she could take back her brazen words. It was none of her business why anyone might need council housing.

“Erm... Doctor, you’re gonna need some bread to go with that other stuff,” she ventured, attempting to make up for her thoughtlessness, “an’ some milk and tea, maybe some eggs. And a couple cans of beans. Ya can’t go wrong wi’ beans-on-toast.” She linked her arm with his and proceeded to lead him through the shop.

As Rose nattered away to him, he maintained a detached silence, except to offer bewildered grunts to her various queries about the items she heaped into his basket. Finally, as she placed a box of tea on top of the mound, he smirked down at her, and spoke: “I hope you’re not attempting to curry favour so I’ll give up the bubbly.”

“Never gave it a second thought,” she fibbed with a cheeky grin. Honestly, she just wanted to make it up to him for being rude, but she had hoped, maybe…

He pulled the bottle out of the basket to peer at it. “It’s proper British Fizz, you know.”

“Oooh, lovely! Somethin’ a bit posh. Don’t know w’at it’s doin’ here, in a Tesco on the flippin’ estate. Guess they reckoned people wouldn’t be thinkin’ about the cost so much when they’re bringin’ in the New Year.”

“Yeah, gonna cost me an arm and a leg, this is.”

“The price don’t matter to me. Not tonight. I’d be happy to take it off your hands if you’re having second thoughts…”

“Ahem… nope.” He placed it back into the shopping basket. “Worth every penny, this. I have plans for this fizz.”

“Yeah,” Rose muttered, rolling her eyes, “so did I.”

They headed toward the checkout each lost in their own thoughts. “So, what’s your story, then?” he asked after a few moments. “Tell me, what makes you so deserving of this posh beverage on New Year’s Eve?”

Rose shrugged, her problems seeming rather small and distant, now.

“C’mon then. You said earlier, you’d had a rough night of it. So?”

“You sure you wanna hear me rattle on? It’s pathetic, really.”

“I’ve been listenin’ to you rattle on non-stop for the las’ twenty minutes, anyway. So, I’m all ears… and no jokes about these silly things hangin’ off the side of me head.”

“I would never! ‘Sides, there’s nothin’ wrong wi’ them. They suit you.”

He looked unconvinced by her compliment. “Well… out with it then,” he insisted, changing the subject back to Rose as he began to load his groceries onto the checkout counter. “I’m waitin’ on this great tale of woe.”

“Alright, you asked for it.”

“Yes, I did!”

“Okay, so, earlier tonight, I found my tosser of a boyfriend (ex-boyfriend now, by the way, and good bloody riddance!) out back of the pub, gettin’ a leg-over with one of the servers. It was humiliatin’. And you better believe I told him what he could do with his bloody– Well anyway, I ended up slappin’ him (and fuck that felt good!) and walked out. Thought about goin’ to a few other pubs, but I decided I really just wanted to go home, watch the countdown on the New Year’s Eve Fireworks programme, an’ get hammered in peace. I s’pose I jus’ wanted the wine to make me feel a bit more… special.

“And that’s about it. See? Pathetic. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She wagged her finger at him.

“Oi, not pathetic at all, Miss, erm… Blimey, I don’t even know your name.”

“Since we’re neighbors now, I s’pose I should probably tell ya, yeah? It’s Rose… Rose Tyler.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m John Smith,” he returned.

“John Smith? That’s it? Pull the other one! John Smith?”

His shoulders stiffened. “Well, if you don’t like it, you can jus’–”

“Nah, nah, nah, it’s fine. It’s nice and, erm… straightforward.” Rose couldn’t help the smile that blossomed over her face at his sudden offence. “It’s jus’ I think from now on you’ll always be the Doctor to me.”

“Fine...” he huffed, shaking his head at her as he paid for his order and gathered his bags. “Anyroad, gettin’ back to your tale: it sounds to me like you’re well shot of that stupid ape boyfriend of yours.”

“Ex-boyfriend. And yeah, Jimmy’s a right arsehole. To be honest, I don’t really feel all that upset about it. Thought I’d be gutted, yeah? But all I can think is that it’s no great loss. Reckon it was a long time comin’; shoulda dumped him ages ago.”

They walked out the doors of the Tesco and headed in the direction of Powell Estate.

She shrugged, adding, “I’m mostly just pissed off that he ruined my plans for New Year’s.”

“Yeah, rightly so!”

They walked in slightly awkward silence for a short time before Rose braved asking the enigmatic Doctor more about himself. “So… you’re a medical doctor, then?”

“Yup. Was a doctor in the military for years. Resigned my commission ‘bout a year back. Figured I’d seen enough…”

Rose glanced up at him, frowning concern at the tenson etched on his face again. “What are your plans now?” she asked, hoping to take him out of whatever unspoken horrors lingered in his past.

“I’ve always planned to start my own practice, me. Thought I could open one right here on the Estate.”

“Blimey, mate, it’s a war zone here too, sometimes.”

He grunted. “All the more reason you need a doctor.”

“Can’t argue wi’ that. We haven’t had a doctor ‘ere for years. The old one jus’ cleared off one day, no notice. He was just gone. His clinic is still there, though, between the chemist and the launderette. No one’s let it. Bet it’s a bargain!”

“You think?” He offered her a smug smile. “Already made arrangements, me.”

“But that’s brilliant!” Rose cheered, grabbing his arm and bouncing up and down. “When do you take possession?”

“Beginnin’ o’ next week,” he said as they strolled into the Powell Estate quad. “But it’ll be a bit before I can get everything set up properly. Plus, I have my flat to sort out. Boxes everywhere.”

“Don’t ya have some mates to help ya out?”

“Nope. There’s no one else. Jus’ me.” His words were blunt, his voice rough with emotion.

Rose watched his Adam’s apple bob heavily and grabbed onto his hand. “W’at happened? Doctor?”

He swallowed again and looked down at their joined hands.  

Rose gripped a little tighter, but he wriggled his hand free of hers, leaving behind an aching emptiness deep in her heart. She ducked her head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. I jus’… Oh, never mind.”

The strained silence returned for another minute or so as they walked, then he sighed. “Rose, war changes a person. I came back a very different man. I had plans, me. Was goin’ to start a practice as soon as I resigned my commission. Even had a place all set to go in my hometown. But I couldn’t make a go of it. Too much baggage. I haven’t been able to keep a steady job, all this time. And I lost people, good people, because they couldn’t take any more of my shit. My mates, my fiancée. One way or another, they’re all gone, and I can’t say I blame ‘em. That’s who I am, now. I drive everyone away from me.”

Rose’s heart swelled with compassion. “There’s me…”

They paused as they approached the entranceway to Rose’s building, and he shook his head, rolling his eyes at her and offering a guarded smile. “Yeah, you I can’t seem to get rid of.”

“I’m just too good.” She beamed at him, poking her tongue between her teeth again. This time, she noted, his eyes drifted to her mouth.

“No, you’re jus’ too drunk.”

“Uggghh,” she groaned, “I wish. I never got a bottle from the shop, after all.”

Grumbling deep in his throat, he dug in his shopping bag and extracted the bottle of sparkling wine. “There you go. Happy New Year. Take this and go home and celebrate your freedom from that twat. Now, go on, forget me, Rose Tyler.” He pressed the bottle into her hand and turned away, striding off toward the building opposite hers.

Rose watched him go, feeling rather lost. Numbly, she headed toward the staircase of her building, the bottle dangling from her fingers. She had her prize, but somehow it seemed a hollow victory.

She stopped and turned back. The Doctor was halfway across the quad, his figure illuminated by the dim sparkle of fairy lights strung from the balconies above. “Wait, Doctor,” she blurted. When he paused, she wasted no time rushing forward to meet him.

“Thought I told you to forget me,” he growled.

She was undeterred. “I’m not havin’ you sittin’ up in that empty flat by yourself.” Impulsively, she perched up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Come to mine. Mum won’t be home ‘til tomorrow anyway, and I think we both deserve this bottle of bubbly, wouldn’t ya say? Better with two, yeah.”

“Erm…” He gazed down at her, his gruffness replaced with a sad, gentle smile that teased at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not on the pull or anything,” she insisted… a little too forcefully. “Blimey!” she laughed, her cheeks burning. “I mean we jus’ met…”

He chuckled too. “And you were trying to steal my bubbly. You’re weren’t off to the best start, anyway, to be honest.”

“Oi!” She grabbed him by his sleeve and tugged him toward her building. “Wait! Hold on,” she paused a few seconds later, sniffing the air, “do you smell chips?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Morrison’s must still be open! I want chips!”

“Me too.”

“And since you brought the bottle, the chips are on me! You’re in for a treat! Best chips on the planet, Morrison’s, an’ they’re right here on the estate. C’mon!”

“All right! Chips it is! And if we’re still hungry later, you can’t go wrong wi’ beans-on-toast.” They both laughed as he held up his bag of shopping. Then he clasped Rose’s hand in his, the gesture warming her to the core. “Lead the way!”

As they walked towards the chippy, Rose leaned her head against John Smith’s shoulder and gave his hand a little squeeze. Her evening, which had started out quite wretched, had completely turned around, and was now looking more promising than she could ever have imagined. Despite his wine-hogging tendencies, she rather thought she was going to enjoy being the Doctor’s neighbor.

“You know what, Doctor,” she grinned up at him, “I bet we’re going to have a really great year!”

[uswnt-keeper]

We'll Just Go To Hawaii Instead (Alex Morgan x reader)

GIF IS NOT MINE!!!

Prompt from @nessa-olivas

Sorry it's not proof read! I also got a few requests so sorry these are coming kinda late! I'm in exam season so I've been studying a lot. I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Hi i got a uswnt imagine request ! Lol you know how alex got banned from Disney? Can you do an imagine of the whole team getting banned with her on how it all happened ? Reader can be dating any player of your choice. Please and thank you 😊

"Al!" Y/N called from the couch.

"Yeah babe!" Alex called back, she had been making morning smoothies for them in the kitchen.

"Come 'ere," Y/N yelled, "I have an idea for where we should go."

Y/N and Alex has been dating for the better part of two years now, but they hadn't found an ounce of time to go on a vacation together.

With the money they had saved together and a slightly extended offseason, they decided on their first day off, they'd look for a destination to spend their extra days.

Alex walked into the living room where Y/N was sat, right leg folded over her left, laptop resting on her lap as she scrolled through whatever website she was on.

Alex always found everything Y/N did adorable, and right now she would tell you the way she bit her lip in concentration had her hear skipping a few beats.

"Come," Y/N said again, patting a spot next to her on the couch.

Alex followed instruction, plopping down next to her girlfriend and handing her a smoothie, which Y/N thanked her for.

"So what's the plan?" Alex asked sipping her smoothie. Although she didn't want to leave the work up to Y/N, she wanted to go somewhere that Y/N enjoyed the most.

Y/N turned the computer to Alex and as soon as she saw what it said her blood ran cold, "We can't go there," she said quickly.

"What! Why?" Y/N asked almost upset, "I've never been, I really want to go," she jutted out her lip in a attempt to pout.

"We just can't," Alex said, not wanting to relive the whole scenario, yet feeling guilty for not being able to take her girlfriend where she wanted.

Y/N's eyes narrowed, "It would only be like a one or two day thing and we could drive, we could stay here, not hotel fees," she negotiated.

"Y/N, I said we can't, and we won't, that's it, end of discussion," Alex said sternly.

Y/N stayed quiet, analyzing her for a moment before a smirk was plastered on her face, "Why do you really not want to go?"

Alex looked at her and saw the look, rolling her eyes, "I don't want to talk about it. It's embarrassing. I'm surprised you don't already know.

"Oh, so if I ask, say.... Ali and Ash, they wouldn't know?" Y/N teased and Alex's eyes widened.

"No! No! You can't ask them!" She said, frantically, putting her hand over Y/N mouth as if she was going to ask them then and there.

"Why not? What about the national team girls? I'm sure they'd tell me," she said, voice muffled behind Alex's hand as she pulled out her phone.

"NO!" She said grabbed Y/N's wrist as the girl smirks at her, knowing she won, "I'll tell you why."

Alex removed her hands from her girlfriends mouth and wrist. Y/N turned her body, crossing her legs like a toddler and facing her girlfriend on the couch.

"Story time," she sang and Alex rolled her eyes.

"I thought I would never have to explain this but here we go..."

2 years ago...

The USWNT has been to Orlando for a while. The older girls decided some team bonding was definitely needed as some of the youngsters and vets had yet to make a move on each other.

It had been a warm afternoon in the off-season and the girls all decided that going to Disney land was a fantastic idea.

At some point someone had mentioned that alcohol was going to be needed if they wanted to make it through the entire park without getting bored. So, after some pre gaming and hidden booze in a few bags, the girls were in, despite the nervous demeanor of some of the shy players. It was clear the Alyssa, Tierna, Becky, Chris, and AD were a lot more sensible and decided to be the sober ones of the group.

Anyway, it was really rowdy at first, the group travelled around laughing way too easily at stupid things and eventually found themselves in a semi private area where nobody seemed to be. They had passed all the rides and exhibitions and were now secluded.

As the sun went down and the sound of people grew quieter and quieter and the sound of the girls grew louder and louder.

The girls had lost complete track of time and were too focused on the dance competition going on between Sonnett, Crystal, and Rose. Half the girls were tipsy and somehow Kelley and Alex had managed to get completely drunk.

"HEY!" There was a loud voice that came from the shadows and the girls mouths had snapped shut.

A man appeared, he looked big, probably security, Alex wasn't paying much attention to that though.

"What are you all doing here?! It's way past hours!" He shouted and the women looked at their phones realizing that they managed to dance and sing their way into the early hours of the next morning.

"We promise sir, it's not what we intended!" Ash said pointedly, smiling at the officer in a slightly tipsy state.

"Are you drunk?" He asked, reaching over to his dispatch device, "I got what looks to be about 20 women, some intoxicated, seems to be a 10-59."

"I have no idea what that means," Sonnett said with a giggle, "but that walkie talkie thing is pretty cool, I had one as a kid," she said walking over to the officer and poking it.

"WOAH! I wanna see!" Lindsey said excitedly, going and doing the same.

Chris and Alyssa pulled the girls away, pleading with the officer to let them go, without charges.

The man started to round up the girls and Alex wasn't having any of it. Being the most drunk next to a swaying Kelley she resisted the mans hold almost immediately.

"Hey man!" She said pulling her arm out of his grip, he looked at her angrily and grabbed her arm again, pulling her towards her friends as they told her to comply.

Present day...

"I don't remember much after that, but from what Chris told me, Kelley and I challenged him to a Beyblade duel for some reason."

By now Y/N was laid down flat absolutely balling over the abomination that was that story.

"That the most chaotic thing I've ever heard in my entire life!" She said through tears of laughter.

"It's not funny! I got banned from all Disney parks, and so did everyone else! Minus like T, Chris, and some others who weren't drunk."

"Jesus Alex, what the fuck were you thinking?" Y/N had now sat up, wiping away the tears that trickled down her cheeks.

"I don't think I was," Alex admitted, "but no, we can't go to Disney Land I'm sorry," Alex hung her head in shame.

Y/N put her hand on Alex's cheeks softly and lifted her head up, still feeling giggles rising in her chest again, she planted a soft kiss on her girlfriends lips, "it's okay baby, we'll just go to Hawaii instead."

THE END

[adenei]

Finding My Way To You - Ch. 6

A/N: I know I’ve had several asks in my box over the past few weeks asking for Ron & Hermione’s second kiss. Well, here’s another version of their second kiss in this chapter in case you were one of the requesting anons. Enjoy!

2nd a/n:  Some of you may have noticed I posted this earlier this week. I wasn’t happy with the original version of it, so I made some additions and edits to the chapter, and I'm much happier with the revamped version. I hope you'll give it another re-read if you've already seen it to catch some of the changes I've made, and as always, thanks so much for taking the time to read my stories!

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

Only You

Hermione stared at the door as it closed behind Ron. She looked at her parents. “But, Mum, I didn’t- I don’t-” 

“Don’t what, sweetheart? Don’t want Ron to go? Well, clearly, he’s let you down again. Maybe you’re better-” her mother tried to finish her sentence.

“No.” Hermione said. 

“Then, what is it, Hermione?” Her mother pressed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Hermione got up and walked down the hall of the ranch home, looking for a bedroom to escape to. She found the second bedroom quickly enough, and shut the door behind her.

Why would her Mum insist that she stay with them? Why did Ron just agree and leave? Hadn’t she made it clear last night that she wanted to stay with him? There was a knock on the door, and her father walked in.

“Dad, I’m not in the mood to talk right now,” Hermione said.

“Hermione, honey, I’m not asking you to talk. I just want you to listen. I know your mother is being a bit harsh on Ron, and I’ve told her as much as I’m about to tell you. I don’t think she’s in the right here. We love you, and we’ve missed you, but you don’t have to stay here overnight if you don’t want to. I’ll understand if you want to go back to the flat with Ron. Your mother will come to terms with it eventually, too. You’re an adult now and I trust you to make your own decisions.”

“Y-You’re not mad at Ron?” Hermione asked him. 

“No, sweetheart, I’m not. He’s a good person, and he cares a great deal for you,” Mr. Granger assured her.

“So you won’t be mad if I go to him?” 

“No, Hermione, I think you need to go to him. Besides, I don’t think you even have anything to stay here with.”

“That’s true,” Hermione said as she stood up to hug her father. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome,” her father said. Hermione started towards the door when her father said. “Hermione, take the flowers back with you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked him with a confused look on her face.

“The roses. They were meant for you. Take them with you when you go back.”

“They were?” Hermione looked completely flabbergasted. Mr. Granger smiled as he nodded to her. 

Hermione thought for a moment and remembered that Ron was stuttering through something when she’d told him it was a brilliant idea to get flowers for her parents. ‘They’re meant to be for…’ She never let him finish. 

She couldn’t wait any longer. Hermione raced down the hall and into the kitchen. She picked up the vase with the roses in them and hurried for the door where she slipped on her shoes. Her mother must have retired to her bedroom because she didn’t see her as she grabbed her beaded bag. 

Hermione exited out the front door and walked down the drive and turned on to the sidewalk. She took a moment to really notice the flowers. There were twelve. Ron had told her the different colors had different meanings. Had he picked them out for her on purpose? Two purple, two white, two pink, and six looked...yellow? Or red? Hermione picked up her pace now as she walked briskly back to their flat. 

She walked up to their building and shifted the flowers to one arm so she could type in the code. The door clicked, and she opened the door. After making sure it closed behind her, Hermione made her way up the stairs. She stopped outside their door and set the flowers on the floor so she could dig out the key. Hermione unlocked the door, picked up the flowers and entered. She shut the door behind her as she saw Ron sitting on the couch. 

He turned slightly to see her. “Come to get your things I expect,” he said in a hollow voice. 

Hermione stared at the back of his head. “No, actually. I’m not going back there tonight.”

“Well, why not? Your Mum wants you home. She doesn’t want me around you. Made that bloody clear.”

“I’m an adult, in case you hadn’t noticed. And I can make my own choices!”

“I know that, Hermione, but if it’s all the same, you just got your parents back. I don’t want you to lose them on my account.” Ron had turned to face her now.

“I’m not going to lose them, Ron! I thought you’d be happy to see me, but I guess I was mistaken. If you really don’t want me here, then maybe I will go back. Let’s just separate our things and you can grab the next portkey to London!” Hermione couldn’t help her temper. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to talk about the flowers that she still clutched in her arms, not fight with him!

“Is that what you want?” Ron stood up and moved around the couch. His own voice was raised now. “Because if it is, then just tell me and I’ll go!”

Hermione stared dumbstruck at him. She shook her head violently. “N-no,” she whispered. She managed to regain her composure and then said more assertively, “Why would you think I’d want that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ron challenged.

“Why wouldn’t- You can’t honestly be serious right now!”

Ron just gave her a look. “Let’s see, I had to insist on coming with you multiple times. You kept trying to tell me to stay until you finally gave in. We’ve barely spoken since the end of the war-”

“And how is all of that my fault? Your brother died, Ron! I was trying to give you space! I figured you’d come to me and we’d talk when you were ready. I didn’t know what else to do. I tried to be there for you when you needed it, but you preferred to be in your room, or with Harry. And it’s not that I didn’t want you to come with me. Your family needed you. I couldn’t be selfish. You’d just been away from them for the better part of a year!”

“That wasn’t your choice to make, Hermione! I needed to get away, but you wouldn’t know that because you never asked! 

“Because you never gave me a chance to!” Hermione shouted back at him, her eyes pooling with tears now. “You only ever came around when the nightmares started, and then you went right back up to your bedroom.”

“What did you expect from me, then? Did you want me to stay with you? You always insisted you were fine, so how was I supposed to bloody know what you wanted?”

Hermione lost it then. “I kissed you, Ron! Before the battle! I’m not sure how much more obvious I could have made myself. Then I waited. And waited. And I’m still waiting for you to say something about it. At this point I guess it didn’t mean anything to you now that we’ve made it to the other side.”

Hermione didn’t have anything more to say to him. She was used to rowing with Ron, and sometimes she even felt invigorated by it. But this, this was exhausting. She just couldn’t waste any more of her energy. She walked into the bedroom and slammed the door. The flowers were still in her arms and she set them on the dresser before walking to the bed and burying her face in the pillow as she laid down. 

She finally gave in to the tears that had been threatening. Nothing could ever seem to go properly when it came to Ron. Maybe she was foolish in thinking it could ever work between them. There was too much that was left unspoken and neither knew how to breach the topic of conversation with the other without keeping their emotions in check.

Hermione barely heard the door open. She held her breath, not knowing what Ron was doing. Was he just going to use the loo and then go back out to the couch? She had her answer soon enough.

“It didn’t mean nothing, Hermione,” she heard him say.

“Well, why didn’t you say anything then?” she said into the pillow. Who knew if he actually heard her through the muffled sounds.

“Thought it might have been a pity kiss,” Ron said as he dug his foot into the carpet.

“A pity kiss?” Hermione picked her head up off the pillow. “Are you serious? You’re the one who said it’s now or never, weren’t you? What was that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come off it, Hermione, we could have easily ended up like any of those other people who weren’t so lucky! Harry had asked us if that was really the moment, whatever the hell that meant. So, yeah, I responded with it’s now or never, since we may not have gotten another chance!”

“But now we do have another chance, yet we’re no closer to anything than we were at Bill and Fleur’s wedding,” Hermione stated.

Ron took in her words. She wasn’t wrong. Well, maybe a bit wrong. “Reckon we were a bit closer at the wedding, now that you mention it.”

Despite her best efforts to stay mad at him, Hermione couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. “You’re probably right.”

Ron stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of whether the intensity of the row had passed, and whether he could move closer to talk to her in a more mild mannered way. It was then that he’d finally noticed the roses were back. Despite their entire argument, he’d barely processed that she’d been holding them. “Why’d you bring those back?” he asked.

“D-Dad said they were for me. That you’d- you got them for me, but I didn’t listen.”

“Yeah. They were. Still are.” Ron moved closer to her and sat on edge of the bed.

“You said that the colors of the roses had meaning?” Hermione asked him.

“I- yeah, I did,” Ron admitted. “But it’s not that important.”

“But...did you pick those colors on purpose?” Ron nodded at her question. “W-why?”

Ron waited before he answered. “Because they reminded me of you. And I thought they fit us well.”

“What do the pink ones stand for?” Hermione said without thinking.

“The pink’s for, er,” Ron had to think for a moment. “Right, the pink’s for admiration and happiness.”

“And the white?” She tried her luck again.

 “The white stands for loyalty and new beginnings.” 

Hermione nodded. She assumed he’d picked the purple because it was one of her favorite colors, and you didn’t often see purple roses. “How about the dual colored ones? There’s quite a lot of those,” Hermione noticed.

“They’re yellow roses with red tips,” Ron explained. He admired them again for a moment before looking into her eyes. This was it. This was the moment. “The florist said they signify friendship deepening to love.”

Hermione’s lips parted as she heard the words come out of Ron’s mouth. She felt as though her heart stopped for the briefest of moments. The words she’d been hoping for since she’d kissed him before the battle was underway. Well, since fifth or sixth year, really, but who was counting? He...he loved her. He really, truly loved her. She watched as his ears had turned scarlet, his eyes had averted from hers briefly. 

“Y-you…” Hermione was having a terrible time trying to form words.

“Yeah,” Ron admitted. “Wanted to tell you for a while, but the moment hasn’t been right.”

“Since when do we wait for the right moment?” Hermione gaped at him. “Ron, I kissed you in the middle of a battle! I’ve been waiting for over a month for you to say something about it. I was starting to give up that maybe you felt-” Hermione didn’t finish her sentence.

Ron had stopped listening at ‘right moment.’ She was right. They never did wait for the timing to be ideal, and Ron was sick of talking about it. So he leaned over, and his lips found hers, taking her by surprise. His hand had reached up to cup her face while the other wrapped around her back. It took Hermione a moment to really understand what was happening, but when she realized it, she melted into him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him back. 

She never wanted the feeling to end. Hermione felt as though she could kiss him like this for the rest of her life and that’d be perfectly fine. When they finally parted, Hermione looked at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell them you left, I really didn’t.”

“I know. I know,” he said. “It’s okay. I think it’s better that they know now. I meant what I said at Shell Cottage, though. I don’t have any plans to leave you.”

“I won’t leave either,” she responded. They were quiet for a moment as Hermione’s gaze drifted back towards the roses, and she thought more about the purples ones. “What about the purple? Is it because purple is one of my favorite colors?”

Ron rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Er, no. Purple stands for love at first sight...I mean, it probably wasn’t love at first sight, since y’know, I called you a nightmare and all first year, but when I think back on the moment I knew, I can’t really think of a moment where I didn’t feel this way. I was just too much of a stupid prat to realize it.”

“So the Yule Ball?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

“I was jealous,” he admitted. “By the way, I knew you were a girl. And I’d noticed quite a lot since third year,” his face felt hot. “Was too embarrassed to be mature about it.”

A small smile played at Hermione’s lips. “And the perfume fifth year?”

“Was supposed to be a hint,” Ron told her. “I’m sorry if you didn’t like it.”

“Why wouldn’t I have liked it?” Hermione asked him.

“You called it unique..that’s not exactly what someone says when they like something, is it?” Ron questioned.

“I, er, no, I guess not. I do like it though. I’m starting to run out, though.” 

“I can get more, though it may be slightly different since I now know the answers to some of the questions I didn’t before..”

“Questions?” Hermione asked him.

“Yeah, they create the perfume right there in the shop and customize it to the answers that you give about the person it’s for.”

“That sounds fascinating!” Hermione said in awe.

“So then, when you asked me to Slughorn’s party in Herbology. That was meant to be a date?” Ron asked as Hermione nodded. “I really fucked things up, then, didn’t I?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Hermione said, but Ron gave her a look. “Really, it doesn’t! We still figured things out, and we’re, well I think at least..”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Ron blurted out. He didn’t want there to be any questions surrounding their relationship.

“Yes!” Hermione said without hesitation. She sighed into Ron’s lips as he leaned in to kiss her again. They fell into an easy rhythm, getting to know the feeling of each other as they took their time sharing a soft, slow snog.

Hermione wasn’t sure how long they remained like that. Not that she cared. It was perfect. At some point they finally broke apart, taking turns using the loo to change into their pajamas. Now, they were curled up in bed, but unlike last night, Ron had wrapped his arms around her. It was hard to believe that everything she’d been hoping for last night was a reality only a day later. A reality she could get used to, finally knowing that she was his.

[romancandlemagazine]

An Interview with Alexander Wolfe, the man behind Pedestrian Magazine

Pedestrian is a magazine about the humble art of walking. In this interview, I talked with the man with the plan, Alexander Wolfe, about his love for this much maligned form of transport, his recent expedition from New York to Philadelphia, and the art of conversation.

First off, you recently walked from New York City to Philadelphia over nine days. What made you want to do that?

The initial desire to walk to Philadelphia came out living in New York City during the pandemic. I was bound to my apartment for a few months with little to do but walk around my neighborhood. I've always had a habit of walking around the city, but the pandemic only made these walks longer and longer, which eventually led to a 23 mile journey from my apartment in Brooklyn, to the Bronx, and back.

Around that time I was reading The Roads to Sata by Alan Booth and started contemplating longer, multi-day walks. I needed a change of scenery and found the idea of traveling by foot and living out of a bag very appealing. I felt like I'd developed a process here in the city (go on a walk, take photos, write a newsletter about the walk, repeat) and needed to give myself a challenge.  I wanted to lean further into this practice that I've been developing for the last three years.

I'd never considered my walks to be hikes, so it made sense that I'd keep it in an urban setting. Walking to Philadelphia seemed like a no-brainer. What most people don't initially realize is that most of my time was spent walking through New Jersey. I liked the idea of walking in a place that is commonly misrepresented as the "armpit of America" and typically deemed unwalkable. New Jersey is actually a very underrated state. It might be the densest state population-wise, but it's called the Garden State for a reason. Oh yeah, I'd never been to Philadelphia and just really wanted to visit.

How did the walk go? Quite often trips or excursions can be a fair bit different to how you first imagine them… how did the reality of the walk differ from how you thought it was going to be?

I was presented with a new challenge every day. Don't get me wrong, the walk turned out better than I could have ever imagined, but you can never anticipate everything in advance. This was the first time I'd ever walked with a 25 pound bag on my back, let alone the first time I'd walked 9 days in a row. Originally I set out to average 17.75 miles per day, but thanks to my own curiosity, ended up waking 20 miles a day on average. I mapped the entire route a month or two before leaving, but would always deviate from the path in favor of exploring some neighborhood, road, or park that looked appealing. The first day alone ballooned into 27 miles because I got cocky and thought I didn't need to use my map while walking in Manhattan. I learned my lesson and kept my eyes on the map for the rest of the trip.

Another thing I didn't expect was the sensitivity one develops after walking 6-8 hours for days in a row. The smell of exhaust and gasoline becomes more potent. You realize how violently we've shaped the land to build huge highways and abysmal business parks. So much of our infrastructure is built in favor of the car, which makes being a pedestrian incredibly difficult at times. If the built environment didn't present a challenge, it was always the weather, the gnarly blisters on my feet, or my gear malfunctioning. I quickly learned to accept these challenges. It was just another component of the walk.

A lot of times people go for ‘a walk’, they’re seeking out beauty spots or nice scenery—maybe in nature reserves or the countryside, but your walk was cutting through some fairly overlooked places… industrial estates and small towns. Do people miss out by not seeing the whole picture of somewhere? Is just driving through these places to get to the destination sort of cheating?

I wouldn't consider driving to be cheating – it's just another way we alienate ourselves from the world around us. When we drive, we experience the world at a speed that makes it nearly impossible to pay attention to the fine details. Our relationship to place is abstracted, especially thanks to the rise of GPS. We no longer have to have a physical relationship to these towns. We don't even have to remember how to get to them. Driving around in a car reduces these places to nothing more than a label on a map or a convenient place to stop for gas.

It's important to have relationships with the places surrounding you. The walk has given me an intimate experience with the space between New York City and Philadelphia. I know what it looks like, I know how it feels to be there. I can tell you where residents stop hanging New York Yankees flags in favor of Philadelphia Phillies flags. If I'm watching the Soprano's and Tony references Metuchen, NJ then I know exactly what he's talking about. I think to understand a place, such as New York City, it's just as important to understand the places around it. There are generations of people who once called the Big Apple home, but decided to plant their roots in Jersey for one reason or another.

I suppose you could have read about some of these places on Wikipedia, but being there is a completely different thing. Is experiencing stuff first hand important?

It's very important if you actually want to understand a place. It's too easy to create our own narratives without ever visiting a place. I still tried to do my share of research before heading out. I have friends from North Jersey or the Philadelphia Metro and tried to take their opinions with a grain of salt. I spent some time reading about certain towns along the way on Wikipedia or scanned Reddit to get a vibe. I even previewed chunks of the walk on Google Street View to mentally prepare and know if it was actually safe to walk near some of these roads. I could have spent months preparing, but it never would actually replace walking in these small towns and cities. It's so much different when you're on the ground.

I suppose the main reason we’re talking is that you make a magazine based around the idea of walking. How long have you been making Pedestrian? What started it off?

I released the first issue of Pedestrian back in March of 2018. I was living in Ridgewood, Queens at the time and made friends with a guy named Curtis Merkel (I actually met him while out on a walk). He ran a moving business for a few decades and retired. At 84 years old he opened up a tiny little bookshop to keep himself busy. I'd visit him every weekend to check out his books and eventually we'd just get to talking. He'd lived in Ridgewood his entire life and loved to talk about the neighborhood's history. Moving to NYC also introduced me to a thriving community of zine makers. I wanted to share these conversations I'd had with Curtis in print form, so I decided to start a magazine. I invited a few friends to contribute and the rest was history.

Since then, the identity of Pedestrian has become quite fluid. While it started as a magazine, I would now describe Pedestrian as my own practice. It's a platform that allows me to collaborate with others, produce magazines, write newsletters, go on these long multi-day walks, and produce t-shirts. I have found this configuration gives me the most creative freedom.

A lot of your magazine is about meeting people and striking up conversations. Is this a lost art these days?

I don't know if it's a lost art per se, but there's less incentive to reach out and talk with strangers these days. Thanks to the rise of social media it's just getting easier and easier to stay within our own "bubbles." Starting Pedestrian, in a way, was an excuse for me to speak with those I typically wouldn't reach. It's amazing how having a publication kind of takes the fear out of speaking with strangers. You can do anything when you have intention.

Although walking is something most people do, is it overlooked as an activity? It seems it’s mostly seen as an inconvenience, rather than a hobby in itself.

It depends where you live. In New York City, for example, walking is a part of the culture. The city is built in such a way that makes walking a viable means of transportation. And if you can't walk to your destination, you're likely walking to a subway or a bus. Where I'm from in Iowa, walking is very inconvenient. Everything is spaced out, which makes walking anywhere very difficult. It’s not that people don’t want to walk, it’s just the way we’ve built certain communities has made it very hard to enjoy. It makes people think walking is very inconvenient.

I’m here in Iowa until August and it’s been interesting to walk a place that is so reliant on cars. The other day I did a 13.5 walk around the city. There’s nothing here stopping you from walking (unless the heat gets you. Technically we’re in the middle of a drought. It’s been incredibly hot as of late), and there’s plenty of sidewalk. I think it’s mostly just a mindset people have to develop. It doesn’t matter how many miles you walk, it’s just about getting out there. Your mental health will thank you and you might even learn something new about your surroundings along the way.

Walking is maybe the antithesis to the internet, but Pedestrian also has a decent presence on the World Wide Web, and you regularly send newsletters and... er... partake in the digital world. How do you balance the real world with the matrix?

It’s a relationship I’m constantly reevaluating. I’m not a master of balancing the two yet, but I’m slowly building habits that will protect my time. I often daydream of abandoning social media altogether and picking up a flip phone. I obviously haven’t done that yet, so in the meantime, I’m investing a lot of time in my newsletter. Sending out a newsletter is a much more thoughtful, intimate, and slow experience...kind of like the way I approach my walks out in the world. I understand that the web is a tool and I’m not sure the Philly walk would have gotten the same amount of attention had I not had an Instagram account. It’s cliche, but everything in moderation, right? I try not to take it so seriously.

What next for Pedestrian?

The Philly walk was such a great success and I’d like to keep that momentum going. Later in September I have another big, big walk planned, but I have yet to announce the route. Look for an announcement sometime next month. This one will be a bit longer and involve 3 different cities. I can’t wait.

Once winter hits I’m going to buckle down and produce a proper book for the Philly walk that will include all my writing and photos I took along the journey. I’m already excited to share the finished product with the world. Stay tuned.

Final question, what are your walking shoes of choice? And what's your soundtrack? Are earphones advised for long walks, or do you prefer the ambient sounds of the streets?

I’m a big fan of Hoka Clifton’s. I wore them throughout the entire Philly walk and have two pairs in my closet. At this point, Hoka should probably pay me for how much business I send their way. I’m always recommending them.

I prefer not to wear headphones and just listen to the ambient sounds of the street. More often than not, I find wearing headphones to be a bit distracting and it takes me out of the present moment. Although, I’ll admit I have been trying to introduce music into my walking once again, but few tracks make the cut. Lately Andrew Wasylyk’s Last Sunbeams of Childhood has been on repeat. There’s something about that track...

Find out more about Pedestrian here. Pedestrian is available in the UK courtesy of Central Library.

[atc74]

The Sharp Knife of a Short Life

Warnings: Fluff, parental crap, fluff, love,  scary situations, canon level violence, TW: Major Character Death

Summary: Y/N finds love with a young man who is new in town. Will their love last forever like she hopes, or will it end before it’s really begun?

Pairing: Lee Webb x Reader

Word Count: 4025

Written for: @amanda-teaches​ Amanda’s 2K Writer & Reader Challenge (“I can’t explain right now, but I need you to trust me.”), @alleiradayne​‘s Summer Shut In Challenge (“Can you please come get me?”), and @katymacsupernatural​ Katy’s Make Me Feel Challenge (”That’s...a lot of blood.”. Writing has been such a struggle that I combined them all!

Beta’d by: @crashdevlin​ and @dean-winchesters-bacon​. Thank you both so much for taking a look and being so supportive of a new character. Also to @dolphincliffs​ for continually supporting (and feeding) my Christian Kane fix. 

A/N: We all know the orgin stories of our favorite, and not so favorite characters. But when a new character is introduced in the way Lee Webb was, there is so much to learn. He is a blank slate, except for his ending. We really don’t know what is and what not is OOC for him, so this is going to be so fun. I was inspired to write this after listening to The Band Perry’s “If I Die Young”. I’ve always thought this would be a great intro for a hunter, and I finally found it.  I hope you enjoy the journey!

P.S. I am using my forevers and my Dean list, since he does make an appearance. Please let me know if you prefer not to be tagged, should there be future Leo installments. Thank you. 

Circa 2001 - Somewhere in Oklahoma

“Mama, he’s a good man,” Y/N sighed loudly as she set the table for supper. 

“He’s a drifter, Y/N. He’s only been in town a short time. And working at that place!” her mother, Ruth, spat. 

“Not everyone gets a good family upbringin’. He’s had a hard life and is trying to make it better. And it’s a bar, Mama, not the Devil’s playground.” Y/N protested, slamming the last fork down harder than she intended. 

“That’s exactly what it is! Nothing good ever happened in that place and you’re not going there!” It had been a long time since she had heard her mother raise her voice. 

“Mother, I am twenty years old. I am not a child. Lee is a good man and I’ve been seeing him for more than three months. He’s coming to supper and you’ll be the gracious hostess we all know you are. Please reserve judgement until you’ve met him. Isn’t that what Jesus would do?” Y/N smiled sweetly, knowing how her religious mother always followed the Golden Rule. 

“Of course I will, Y/N. I’m not a heathen!” 

“Supper was delicious, Miss Ruth. Thank you so much for having me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a meal this good,” Lee smiled at her as he stood to clear the dishes. 

“Well, I’m pleased you liked it. I’ve got plenty left over. Would you like me to pack you some to take home?” Ruth blushed at the compliment from her daughter's boyfriend as she searched for a container for his leftovers. 

“That would be wonderful, thank you ma’am. Now, you ladies go enjoy your tea, I’ll clean up here,” Lee shuttled the remaining dishes from the table to the sink. 

“Nonsense! Guests don’t do my dishes,” Ruth swatted him away with her towel. 

“Then let me dry, please. It’s the least I can do after such a meal. I haven’t eaten that well in, forever I think,” Lee offered. 

“Mama, let him help.” Y/N’s  voice carried through from the dining room as she carried the platter of fried chicken to the kitchen. 

~*~

“He’s a good man, Y/N. I can see he cares deeply for you,” her mother told Y/N quietly that night after Lee had gone. They sat on the back porch, sipping chamomile tea, as the sun set.

“He loves me, Mama. And I think I love him, too.” She smiled ear to ear. “You changed your tune pretty quick, though.” 

“He told me a little about his life, ya know. How his daddy left and his mama got sick. That’s no way for a child to live. But he’s making something for himself, and for you one day,” she commented. “He looks at you the way your daddy used to look at me.” 

“Yes he is, but please don’t go putting a ring on my finger. I’ve barely started living. I won’t always be working at the library, content to stay in this town,” Y/N stated. 

“I know, baby girl. There’s big things waiting for you out there. But leave room for him, too.” 

“Mama, three hours ago you didn’t even like the man, now you want us to run away together and get married?” Y/N laughed.   

“No, baby. I want you to get married, then run away and live your lives. I don’t want you stuck here like I was after your daddy passed. It’s no life for a young woman so vibrant and with so much to give the world,” Mama sniffed slightly, running the crumpled tissue in her hand underneath her nose. She rose and kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight, girl. Don’t stay up too late.”

A pack of coyotes howled in the distance as Y/N thought about what her mama had said. “Goodnight, Mama.” 

~*~

“Lee, what are we doing all the way out here? Why did you bring me out here? It’s dark and creepy,” Y/N muttered as Lee led her away from his truck, the path dark and obscured by shadows from the ancient pines towering above them. 

“I have a surprise for you, darlin’,” Lee smiled, his dimples carved deep into his cheeks. “Ta da!” 

“What is this?” Y/N gasped seeing a crippled cabin in front of them. The porch steps sagging from years of rot, the roof following suit. 

“It’s ours...well, mine. I bought it from Ed for just the deed transfer fees. It’s going to be incredible,” Lee beamed at the compromised structure, then turned back to Y/N, his smile falling as he did. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Is it safe?” Y/N asked hesitantly, brows furrowed. 

“Not yet. It needs some work, but I’m gonna fix ‘er up real good. It’ll be a good home for us, darlin’.” 

They sat on the hood of his truck and Y/N listened as he told her his plans for the small two bedroom cabin, his thumb brushing over the knuckles of her hand folded in his. Y/N was content to stay tucked under his arm, his body fending off the chill of the night. Time passed as they talked about their future, laid out under the slivers of moonlight. “I love you, Lee.” 

“I’ll love you forever, Y/N.”

It wasn’t until the night air became too cool that they decided to head back into town. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.” As Lee opened the passenger side of his truck, the sound of breaking glass came from the direction of the small cabin. He pushed Y/N inside the cab and shut the door. “Get behind the wheel, if I’m not back in five minutes, leave! Call the sheriff.” 

“Lee, let’s just go!” Y/N shouted through the open window as he grabbed a two by four from the bed of his truck. He turned and winked at her, then kept walking, right around the side of the cabin. Four minutes. 

The night was too dark to see anything solid, the slivers of moonlight playing tricks on her eyes as she scanned the small clearing. Three minutes. 

Y/N slid across the bench seat and started the old beast, her engine rumbling to life. Two minutes. 

She heard nothing as she continued to search for Lee, her eyes darting back and forth, the headlights of the truck brightening the clearing. One minute. 

“Damn, baby, you smell so sweet!” A man jumped through the passenger window, breathing deeply through his nose. And then he smiled at Y/N. Only there were far too many teeth and they were all wrong. 

A scream ripped from her body as he grabbed her arm, pulling it towards him as he tried to shimmy further into the truck. He suddenly lurched backwards and Y/N heard a sickening crack as wood connected with his skull. Lee rushed around the side of the truck and wrenched open the door. Y/N scooched over to give him enough room to get behind the wheel. 

“What the H-E-double hockey sticks was that?” Y/N cried, noticing the tears on her face for the first time. 

Lee threw the truck in reverse and gunned it back down the dirt road to the main highway. “I don’t know, baby. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I think so.” 

“Something is going in this town. That man, and others have been squatting in our cabin from the looks of things. I’m calling the sheriff as soon as I get you home. He’ll figure it out. Maybe they have something to do with the two missing people,” Lee pondered as he slowed down as the highway came into his rearview mirror. He straightened the truck out and put her in drive, heading back towards town.

“Who’s missing? Why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N asked. 

“Coupla regulars down at the bar. I reported it to the sheriff. Not really the type of guys that people miss, but they hadn’t been in for a few nights and that’s not normal. Sheriff confirmed today, they just up and gone, or so he said,” Lee shrugged. 

Lee drove the last few miles into town silent with his hand clutching Y/N’s. He pulled into her driveway and cut the engine before getting out to open her door. Always the gentleman, Lee walked Y/N to the door, but this time he came inside. “What’re you doing, mister? My mama’s upstairs!” 

“Just checking that all the doors and windows are locked. Gotta make sure my girl is safe,” he winked at her before he went up to the second floor. He returned moments later. “All set upstairs.”

When he was satisfied with his inspection of the first floor, he came to a stop in front of Y/N. She was leaning against the counter, a cup of tea next to her. She pulled him tight to her, fingers trembling as she grabbed his shirt. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t. I’m here.” He pressed his lips to the side of her head, holding her gently, as if he was afraid she’d break. 

~*~

The library was empty the next day as Y/N settled behind the counter, her third cup of coffee in hand. She didn’t want to work today, but since Miss Birdie was out of town visiting her grandchildren there was no one else to open the library. It’s a library, so it is usually quiet, but it was too quiet. Even the online courses couldn’t drown out the quiet today as she followed along and took notes. 

Y/N was lost in the online lecture until the bell above the door dinged, reminding her she was still at work. A tall young man, dressed in a leather jacket walked through, smiling at her as he passed the desk. He headed to the back, where the periodicals are kept. Y/N returned to her laptop, but now unable to concentrate on anything for longer than a few minutes, her mind occupied with Lee, their “future” and the events of the last few days. She sighed and gathered the stack of books next to her, adding them to the cart for restocking.

It took less of her time than she hoped to return the books to their rightful place on the shelf. Y/N went back to the desk and closed her laptop, stowing it in her bag, when she heard a voice from the back. 

“Dad, I’m telling you, there’s nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch!” The young man was on his phone, waving his free arm in annoyance. “Yeah, okay. Bye.” 

Y/N looked at the clock, noticing the time. “Sir, we’re closing in a few minutes.” 

He was walking towards her, a confident swagger in his step. He winked at Y/N as he passed. “Thanks, Sweetheart.” 

She flipped the lights off and followed the young man out the door, locking the doors behind them. Y/N took a deep breath of fresh air and hooked her bag across her body, starting the walk home. It was just past five in the evening and the weather was perfect, not too hot yet, but warmer than it had been. She smiled, making her way down the street. She wanted to rush home and get supper ready to bring to Lee down at the bar. 

He was working so hard, for them, for their future, and he deserved home cooking more than he got it. Y/N swung left through the small forest in the middle of town. It would easily cut ten minutes off her walk and that was more time to cook for her boyfriend. Lee was indeed her boyfriend, and hopefully, with the way he talked, her future husband. Y/N smiled at that. Husband. 

~*~

Y/N had said she would bring him supper even after he told her she didn’t need to. She just said he needed to eat proper and if he was being honest, he liked it. He was in love with that girl. Lee wanted to make her his wife, provide a future for her, for a family. He wanted to make her happy, even if that was letting her bring him supper at work, for now. He was such a goner. And for the first time in his life, he was okay with that. 

The bar wasn’t busy being a weeknight and all, but it was still early, only a hair past nine. A few regulars at the bar, a couple new faces playing pool, and a handful taking up tables. Y/N should have been there by now, or at least called. Lee started to worry. He should call her and check in. He should have told her to stay home, with everything that was going on. He cursed himself as he reached for his phone. It started vibrating in my pocket. Y/N’s picture lit up the screen and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Baby? Are you alright? I was so worried!” Lee blurted out. 

“Can you please come get me?” Y/N sniffed and she sounded small, almost fragile. 

“Where are you?” He asked, signaling Ed he needed to leave. 

“I think I’m at the cabin. I don’t know. Someone grabbed me on my way home from work, and now it’s dark. I don’t know, Lee,” she was crying so hard, he could barely understand her. 

“The cabin? I’m on my way, baby. Hold tight!” Lee was already in his truck before the call disconnected. The cabin was only about ten minutes outside of town, but he wasn’t obeying traffic laws that night. Lee needed to get to her and now. 

The waning moon barely broke through the cover of the trees overhead as he eased his truck down the narrow drive. There were no other vehicles in sight, so if someone had brought her here, they had done it on foot, or left already. Either way, it didn’t sit right. What did someone want with her? Sure, Lee hadn’t always been a law abiding citizen, but he had done his time, made his peace with God, and changed his ways. Y/N made Lee Webb a better man. He wanted to be a better man for her. 

He killed the engine and slowly opened the door, trying to be quiet. Lee searched the bed of his truck, looking for a weapon of any kind, and all he could find was a length of rusty pipe. It would have to do. He slid around the back of the cabin, searching for any sign of movement or sound, but it was quiet. Almost too quiet. He crept up the back steps and the door was ajar. Someone had been there recently. Lee pushed it open and walked inside. Something fast moved in front of him and before he knew what hit him, he was flat on his back, the air knocked out of his lungs, his weapon rolling across the sagging floor.  

“I knew you’d come for me!” Y/N cried out, straddling Lee. 

“Y/N? Baby, what happened? How did you get here? Are you okay?” The questions flew from his mouth faster than he could process the lewd smile on her face. 

“I don’t know! One minute I was walking home from the library, taking the shortcut through the woods, when a man grabbed me. I think he knocked me out, or I passed out, I don’t know. But when I woke up, I was here. Alone. I don’t know what happened or where they went, but I knew you would come for me,” Y/N recounted the events since she left work rapidly. 

“Of course I came. You’re my girl and I’m going to protect you and take care of you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, but I’m here now, baby. I’ve got you,” Lee cooed softly, holding her tight to him, just relishing in her safety for the moment. 

“I was so scared,” Y/N sniffed, her face buried in the crook of his neck. 

“Shhhh, I’ve got you now. It’s okay,” he soothed before pulling back and inspecting her carefully. Y/N looked okay, a little disheveled, but she didn’t appear to have any injuries that he could see immediately. “What else do you remember? Anyone come into work today?” 

Y/N shook her head. “A few families came in for story time, Billy and his girlfriend, Jenna, to study for a couple hours.” Then she remembered. “There was a man, a man I didn’t recognize. He was tall, wearing a dark jacket, maybe gray. He had um, spiky, light brown hair, and was wearing a necklace, with a weird looking pendant on it.” 

“I saw that guy tonight. At the bar. He was with another man, an older guy. Thought they were just a father and son, having a beer and playing some pool. Son of a bitch!” Lee growled, knowing exactly the man she was talking about. “I’m calling the Sheriff.” 

“No, baby, don’t. We can do that later. Just hold me,” Y/N begged, putting her face back into his neck. 

He was angry and scared that someone took her, but his instincts to hold her won. Her body was warm against him and he let his thoughts linger over what she would feel like laid out beneath him. They hadn’t gone far in that department, as much as he wanted to. He loved her enough to respect her wishes and she wanted to wait until they were married. Lee thought it was sweet, and he did love her. He had been with many women who were quick to please, but none of them could hold a candle to the woman he held in his arms.

He felt her shift above him, slowly grinding her hips into his as she licked and sucked along his neck. Lee attempted to stop her. “Y/N, baby. This isn’t what you want. You’re scared and you need me to tell you you’re okay. I’m going to do that, but not like this, okay? I told you I’d wait for you and I will.” 

“I don’t care anymore about some stupid promise. I want you now,” Y/N bucked into him harder, and he responded in kind, despite how strong he thought he could be. 

“No, not like this. If we do this before we get married, we’ll do it proper, not on the floor of a dirty, run-down cabin,” Lee gasped, pulling back, but she didn’t loosen her grip on him. 

“No!” Y/N screamed, biting down hard into the meat of his neck. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! What the hell was that?” Lee screamed, pushing her back and jumping off the floor. 

“I’m the new and improved Y/N. If you won’t fuck me, maybe one of these men will,” Y/N smiled wickedly, Lee’s blood dripping from her lips, and that’s when Lee noticed they weren’t alone. Two men slinked from the shadows and stared him down. 

Lee looked around the room, gauging the distance to each of the two exits, when he spotted a body by the front door, slumped over. And another near the hall. “What is going on here, Y/N?” 

“Oh, we gave your girl here a makeover. Stronger, faster, better. We’re immortal and we’re going to live a long, bloody life with her by our side. Eat up, baby girl,” one of the men said, grinning as he took in the look on her face. She was hungry and he knew the feeling too well. 

“Come here, baby. I want a taste. It’s your choice. I change you and we live happily ever after. Or, I bleed you dry and my new friends here will be my first, and second. What’s it going to be, baby?” Y/N laughed maniacally as she advanced on Lee. “You want a real taste of this tight little body? Make me cum over and over for eternity?” 

“No, this isn’t you, Y/N!” Lee shouted, rounding the small table, trying to put a little distance between them. 

The front door blew open, wood flying through the small cabin. The two men from the bar entered, blades raised. 

“No, it isn’t Y/N!” the older one announced and the first two men advanced on the newcomers. 

Lee watched in disbelief, possibly shock as well, as the older man swung his blade, easily decapitating the first man as Y/N screamed, launching herself at him. The younger fought against the second guy, fists flying and grunts filling the small room. It was like a well choreographed fight scene from an action movie until another head rolled to a stop next to him. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Lee demanded. 

“We can’t explain right now, but I need you to trust me.” The younger man approached him, while his father restrained Y/N. 

“Trust you? You just killed two men and I should trust you?” Lee bellowed. “This is my house and you better explain yourself right now!” 

“Those were not men. They were monsters. They took your girl here and changed her. She’s a monster, just like them. And now, she’ll die, just like them.” The older one spoke, dragging Y/N to a chair and securing her tightly. He pulled his machete from its sheath and lifted it high, ready to swing. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just stop! What the hell are you talking about? Tell me now!” Lee demanded. 

“My name is Dean Winchester and this is my dad, John,” Dean said. He then pointed to the headless men on the floor. “Those are, were, vampires. And that is a newborn vampire.” He gestured to Y/N tied to the chair. 

Lee looked at the girl, the woman, he swore to love forever. Her teeth were bared, long blood stained fangs brushing against the soft pink of her lips he had kissed so many times. He looked down at himself, the front of his shirt bright red with blood. Then he remembered she bit him. 

“You bit me?” Lee asked her. 

“You are my first meal, or should have been, if these assholes hadn’t interrupted dinner time,” she laughed. “I was going to feed on you, then turn you so you were like me and we could live forever, fucking and killing, the way it should have been.” 

“What?” Lee asked, still reeling. 

“Vamps think they should rule the world. No cares, just living out their basics instincts, for an eternity,” John announced. 

“Feeding and fucking, “ Dean shrugged, a small smirk on his face. “Now, Y/N, sweetheart, do you have anything you want to say before we chop your head off?” 

“Fuck you!” Y/N spat at the two hunters. She looked to Lee, her teeth returned to normal and smiled sweetly at him, a small glimpse of the girl he loved. “Please don’t tell my mother. Tell her I’m in heaven, please. I’m so sorry, Lee. I really do love you.” 

Lee took one step closer, aching to kiss her once last time.  “Y/N, I’ll love you forever.” 

“Dean, son, take him outside, he doesn’t need to see this,” John ordered his son. 

“Come on, man. Let’s take a walk.” 

Lee hesitated, but Y/N just nodded and smiled. He turned and stepped out into the cool night, Dean by his side. He flinched when he heard a thump from inside the cabin. Their cabin. Where he planned to love her, start a family with her. Funny how forever can be severed by the sharp knife of a short life. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, before letting it out and opening them again. 

He looked down at his shirt with tears in his eyes before looking back up and meeting Dean’s eyes. “That’s...a lot of blood.” Lee dropped to his knees in the dirt.

“You’re going to be okay. Eventually,” Dean told him, pressing a cloth to the side of his neck. “I’m sorry this happened to you, to your girlfriend. Everyone has a story. This is how yours starts.”

~*~

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~*~

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @flamencodiva​ @blacktithe7​ @evansrogerskitten​ @amanda-teaches​ @hannahindie​ @wotinspntarnation​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @winecatsandpizza​ @kickingitwithkirk​  @wi-deangirl77​ @hobby27​ @mogaruke​ @gh0stgurl​ @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid​ @manawhaat​ @crashdevlin​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @emoryhemsworth​  @imaginationisgrowth​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @deans-baby-momma​ 

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[llodblinky]

Chapter 6:

After touching down on the landing pad. Cirina and Perimu head swiftly to the Rogue’s Guild hideout. Along the way Jacke finds them and tells them to hurry, urgent news awaits them. Once they’re settled in, Jacke begins.

“Well shit is about to hit the fan soon, from what we’ve heard Maelstrom command has received an anonymous letter stating that the ‘true leaders will rise from the remains of Limsa and create a truly free sea.’”

Everyone is quiet, aware of the means to accomplish this. They all look around the room, Jacke breaks the silence.

“Alright, I’m sure Maelstrom and the Yellow Jackets have it covered, but just in case we’re gonna have eyes and ears all around and be ready to help stop. This is our home after all.”

Everyone cheers and claps. Cirina stands up, and begins to speak.

“I can take the sector near the smithys’ guilds. Nearby open area and not a bad place to set up to sink a large portion of Limsa.”

Jacke nods in agreement, Perimu raises his hand to join Cirina on watch there. V’kebbe volunteers to take a 3 man team to watch around the Aetheryte. Jacke says he’ll keep an eye near the aft castle. Once the teams are set and everyone picks a sector they all part and go on lookout for the renegade pirates.

All set, the rogues lie in wait for this group to reveal themselves.

Cirina is chatting with Perimu when they notice a couple of people lugging a large chest in the alleys opposite of their position.

"Perimu, look." Cirina slyly moves her eyes towards the men to signal her compatriot of their movements. He glances and nods in affirmation, the two move gradually, tailing the suspicious group. They are lead to an alley that leads to the plaza, Maelstrom HQ, and the docks. A staging area perhaps?

After a few moments, others appear and share details of the plan. It is revealed that the large chest is indeed the bomb, and they’re planning on leveling Limsa and throwing the city into chaos. The Black Sarcophagus from a month ago is the bomb!? Back when she, X, and Llod fought those men. It's them again, The Reformists. She thinks to herself.

From behind, three men discover them. Outnumbered if the rest are to surround them they deploy smoke bombs and retreat so they can inform Jacke. The duo barely escape their clutches..

After rendezvousing with Jacke, he directs Cirina to go get V'kebbe and the others. Perimu to observe the Aftcastle area and stay hidden.

“We'll need everyone if we're to come out on top. Everyone know their roles?"

They nod and move in the defense of Limsa.

After arriving at V'kebbe's post Cirina realizes she is nowhere in sight. Nor the team she had brought with her. A commotion takes Cirina's notice and she rushes toward it, the markets. She wonders if V'kebbe's team had made a move. Upon arriving, Cirina sees some of The Reformists holding a couple hostage, and making a rather large commotion of it at that.

Could this be a diversion for their boss and the rest?

As she finishes her thought, two rogues drop from above and seperate the hostages from their captors.

"Oi, what're you stupid blokes doin? Git em!"

At the command, the two are surrounded, but the odds are again turned as V'kebbe and the other two of her team attack from behind, neutralizing a few of the goons.

"Thank goodness." Cirina remarks to herself.

The two sides break out into a scuffle, the civilians start to move away from the scene and the Yellow Jackets move in.

"Rogues!? What's goin on ere?"

"Long story short, these guys are with The Reformists, and are planning on blowing Limsa up. So, lend a girl a hand would ye?" V'kebbe responds.

Finally noticing Cirina, V'kebbe shouts toward her.

"Oi fledgling, find Jacke and tell em that they're aiming for the Aftcastle, got it!?" V’kebbe yells.

Cirina nods and goes to run, but is met with a few more of the Reformist goons. They swing at her, but she is able to gracefully avoid them while jumping overhead and landing behind them. With no time to lose she opts to keep running to find Jacke with no time to lose. Luckily she isn't followed as more Yellow Jackets arrive on the scene.

Once she catches up to Jacke, who is now surrounded by three more goons, she takes one out swiftly and relays the news to Jacke.

"Aftcastle eh? Figured as much. Perimu should still be in the area. Be a dear and back him up alright? I can handle these two with both me arms tied." Jacke jests.

"Ok Jacke, best of luck." She says.

“Ah who needs luck when you make your own?” Jacke responds

Cirina disengages and rushes toward the Aftcastle. Both of the goons lunge for Jacke, but he simply sidesteps them and gives them both a swift kick to their asses.

"Really, that's the best you lot got?" He snickers. “Well at least you’ll be a decent challenge.”

After arriving, Cirina takes cover, scanning the area for Perimu. She spots him and V’kebbe attempting to fight The Reformists and their leader Aisibhir who are setting up the Black Sarcophagus. They are unfortunately outmatched in number and pushed back. Aisibhir laughs and snorts as he knows that nothing can stop them from realizing their goal of a ‘free’ Limsa for pirates.

“Pathetic whelps, you can’t stop us from freeing the masses of Limsa, and bringing back the days where pirates could do as they please. No more restriction or damnation from Merlwyb and her Maelstrom nancies!” Aisibhir lectures.

As he gloats, Cirina’s gaze is taken away from the sun in her eyes. A reflection from glass being used by Jacke to get her attention. He gestures to the fellow rogues behind both him and her, ready to take down The Reformists. In one hand motion, they move in to confront this threat to Limsa’s safety.

“You two ok?” Jacke asks V’kebbe and Perimu.

“Aye boss, we ain’t hurtin nothin bad.” V’kebbe assures.

“And look here, your goals and ideals end here. You’re a threat to the stability of life and here and I’m sick of lookin at yer ugly mug on top of things.” Jacke remarks.

Aisibhir’s smile turns into a scowl, and he waves his hand.

“Get them you maggots! Tear them apart!” He roars.

The Rogues engage with The Reformists over the fate of Limsa, both sides give and take, neither willing to give. The clashing of their ideals and ways of life. Jacke is locked in intense combat with Aisibhir, a slight miscalculation would mean the end for either as they ferociously battle. V’kebbe and Perimu are holding their own despite their wounds, whilst the greener rogues are fighting their best but it isn’t going to be enough. Cirina aids the ones she can, suddenly a constant beeping noise is heard coming from the aftcastle.

“Yarharhar, that’s it mateys, The Black Sarcophagus is now armed! Soon, soon we shall open Limsa’s eyes!” He Aisibhir brags while swinging his axe at Jacke.

“Gods dammit, at this rate it’ll go off before the fighting is over. Cirina! Break off and disarm that bomb, we’ll handle the rest.” Jacke commands.

Cirina takes a swift look towards Jacke and the others and heads off, breaking through the Reformist’s line sprinting past them for the detonators.

Three. I can hear three beeps distinctly. So there’s three detonators. Gotta find them all and break them good.

She approaches the first one and scuffles with its two guards, the archer misses gravely and Cirina knocks her out with no issues. The swordsman lunges for her as her back is turned, but she spins around and parries as she does. Driving her daggers into his feet, then swiftly standing up as her head finds his face knocking him out cold as well. Retrieving her weapons she continues on.

The second one is better guarded with two archers, a swordsman and an axeman. The man with the axe charges her first, his first mistake, as he misses. Cirina uses his own weapon as a jumping point towards the wall, pushes off the wall toward him again and swiftly spin kicks him in the back of the head. He’s out cold, now only three left, she throws a smoke bomb at the archers to keep them occupied while she handles the swordsman. He takes two swings, advancing as he does and positions her between him and the wall. Delivering a swift kick to her abdomen, she is sent into the wall and reels from the pain.

Getting back to her feet, Cirina is able to dispatch him with ease afterwards, but a narrow miss from an arrow brings her attention back to the two archers. They proceed to unleash a volley aimed at her but her quick footwork allows her to dance around the barrage. She takes one down, but is knocked by an arrow from the other, proceeding to dispatch him as well. The wound is mild on her left arm and she continues to the last device, time waning.

She reaches the last one with little time to spare, guarded by two swordsmen. Not wanting to waste time she deploys another smoke bomb and runs past them. The two men taking a swing at the shadow wind up bonking each other on their helmets and knocking each other out. She disables the last device with less than a second left on the clock. Cirina races back to the main battle the rogues and yellowjackets are having with Aisibhir’s crew.

Once she reaches the battleground, she is relieved to see it is over. The Yellowjackets taking him and his crew to prison. She strolls over to her mates clutching her wound, one of the captured pirates attempting to mock her. She ignores him, paying him no mind whatsoever which infuriates him. He gets out of his binds to her surprise, blindsiding her, and pulling a hidden dagger slices at her abdomen. It cuts deep, and an unfamiliar surge of energy engulfs her, moving for her. As she draws her own dagger and slices the cur clean through his neck, killing him. Everyone turns to see the commotion. The other rogues are stunned but before they can say anything Cirina collapses from blood loss the purple and red aura dissipating. Jacke and Perimu rush her to any nearby conjurers for fear of her bleeding out.

Cirina...Kharlau…..release me from my chains…..Cirina...Kharlau...release me…

...Who are you…?

I am you…..and you are me…

I...k-killed someone today...was that..because of you!?

We...are one….I am naught...but your own volition….

What!?

You were hurt...weak….I gave you strength…..release me...and it shall be yours...forevermore….

N-no! I don’t want strength like that. It’s twisted....horrendous!!

Tis but arrogance...in time…..you and I...shall truly...become whole...

[afinepricklypear]

hello!!! im really sorry to bother you! im a huge fan of your powerless series and i was very excited to see you beginning to post the next instalment, but i just had a question!! od*zai makes me really uncomfortable for personal reasons and i was wondering if there would be any of it in the fic? again im really sorry for bothering you vnjdfklnb

I don’t know when this was asked, I rarely come here...but I’ll answer as best I can and hope it’s not too late. I really don’t want to spoil the story too much, but I can also understand that many fanfiction readers (myself included) don’t like too many surprises in their fics and, when it comes to a multi-chapter fic, they don’t want to invest too much time in a fic that might disappoint them in the end. I also understand that for many people (once again, myself included), ships can make or break a fic, and that many people have notps (I, personally, have *a lot* in BSD), so I’ll try to give you an indirect answer.

I’ll start by noting that I do tag most things appropriately -- including romantic relationships that will appear in the fic, so that’s always your best bet for determining if a particular ship will show up in one of my stories -- sometimes things come up as I’m writing that I didn’t anticipate, and I’ll always warn when the tags of a fic change. I also try to tag when a fic will have an ending that the readers might not be satisfied with.

However, I feel like you might be able to guess the answer to your question too if you read my notes throughout the series. I’ll reiterate a few things I’ve said in the past installments here:

- I’m not a huge fan of Oda. It’s not that I dislike him, I just don’t particularly like him either. I’m neutral about him, I guess. Apathetic is most appropriate. I just don’t feel that the character was well developed by Asagiri. He’s flat and bland. His personality traits read off like a character the author is desperately trying to make readers like by cramming arbitrary positive characteristics down our throats that feel as though they weren’t fully thought out or given much impetus: he rescues orphans, wanted to retire as a novelist, mafia grunt that never kills (though he doesn’t quite qualify as a ‘criminal with a heart of gold’ like Chuuya because we never see him do anything criminal...but then again, we never really see the Port Mafia doing a lot of criminal things beyond murder). He also knows nothing about fairytales and apparently that makes him interesting -- and not an idiot(?) -- to Dazai. In short, like his ability name, he’s basically Flawless. Unless you count his breakdown in Dark Era when his plot devices...er...I mean, orphans that he rescued, each of whom are indistinguishable from one another (except Sakura because, she’s *the girl*) were killed by Mimic, which spiraled him on a Saint’s Martyr journey. 

OMG. He’s the Gary Stu of BSD. I never realized it before.

Er, I’m ranting. I didn’t mean to turn this ask into an Oda-Bash, and I mean no offense to his fans. We all connect to different parts of a character, and I just...didn’t connect to anything with him. That’s not to say I wouldn’t rise to the challenge as a writer of giving the character more depth than presented in cannon.

- I’m not so much a multishipper, as I don’t care about any other ships in BSD outside of DaChuu. Not much else to add to that one...

- I won’t be introducing any romantic pairings into the story that weren’t tagged in the first story of Release, because it would be wholly unfair to the readers who’ve stuck with me through to a fourth story to suddenly throw a curveball at them with potential notps. So, while there might be hints to other pairs (teasing, more like, similar to cannon), no new romantic pairs will be confirmed and the readers are free to interpret relationships between characters how ever they want...though I might note in comment replies my own preferences on those ships, that isn’t to say that the readers are wrong in reading into characters within my story their own shipping preferences since the characters are otherwise meant to be close to cannon, and there are no cannon ships...therefore, anything goes.

- I want to see Dazai and Chuuya move towards a healthier relationship in Release. As it stands, there are a lot of growing pains they would need to go through to get there. It’s not enough to “confess your feelings”, relationships are built on a lot more than that. They’ve got a lot of bad history, in cannon and as established throughout my story, that they need to work through. They have certain understandings that they relied on in the past to work with one another which no longer hold true, and so they have to figure out new ways to work together. There’s a lot made of the trust between them, also, in the story, they themselves and characters like Lady Murasaki have made mention of the solid trust between them. The problem there, however, is this trust predated their confession to one another, and is, therefore, built on a foundation that is regardless of love. So it isn’t really a great measure of the state of their romantic relationship -- a mistake, I might point out, Dazai may have already made.

- Not technically me that said this last one, but I would also refer you back to chapter 2 of Lock-Down, where Chuuya and Dazai briefly talk about Oda. Although Dazai is rather aloof about his feelings towards Oda there, he is very clear that he and Oda were never romantically involved while Oda was alive.

...

Something I haven’t really said, but I do want to create space for it here, is that there are many different kinds of love. When I set out writing Release, I wanted to keep as many things as possible close to cannon, I wanted the characters as close to cannon as I could get them, tweaking only what was necessary to make the story work. One of the things from cannon is that Dazai’s relationship with Oda had a powerful impact on it. I see a lot of soukoku writers deal with this by ignoring or downsizing the relationship between Oda and Dazai, or changing Dazai’s relationship with Chuuya to "elevate it” -- for lack of better phrasing -- to the same level. What can’t be denied about cannon is that Oda meant a lot to Dazai, his dying words inspired Dazai to leave the Port Mafia, and in the Beast AU, he changes *everything* and even, arguably, puts Atsushi and Kyouka through a kind of hell to create a world where Oda lives and finishes his novel. I would be a terrible fanfic writer if I didn’t at least acknowledge that it is made obvious in cannon Dazai does love Oda...however, it all depends on your perspective what kind of love that is. Odazai fans like to interpret it as romantic love, and that is their ship, nothing wrong with it, but romantic love isn’t the only kind of love with power, and it’s not the only kind of love that drives people to do whatever necessary for the life and happiness of that person. 

Within the context of the Release series, Chuuya also interprets Dazai’s love for Oda as romantic love. This itself is a conflict, but it’s representative of a larger conflict in their relationship...that being Chuuya’s insecurity with regards to Dazai’s feelings for him, which is a theme I really want to explore. I don’t know that it’ll ever explicitly be discussed, but a lot of the trauma from Chuuya’s assault by Dante is actually closely tied with this insecurity too. It isn’t Dante’s actions that affected Chuuya so terribly, rather the newness of his romance with Dazai at that point in time, and how easy it felt for him in that moment, for Dante to brush aside “Dazai’s kisses and touches”. It really represented for Chuuya how fragile and vulnerable his feelings for Dazai are, and how afraid he is that he’ll lose whatever is developing between him and Dazai before he ever really gets to call it his own.

An element of the Release series that I use to drum up drama and suspense, and which I try to impress on readers is that, with few exceptions, we’re only getting Chuuya’s perspective. His information is limited, and his interpretations of events and the people around him are not always going to be reliable. But we’re on this journey with him and we learn most information at the same time that he does. In this case, the important thing isn’t whether Odazai is a thing, it’s that Chuuya *believes* it is a thing. This creates a nice conflict, because it’s very problematic, highlighting that, while Chuuya trusts Dazai with his life, he doesn’t (yet?) trust Dazai with his heart. A partner secure in their relationship would be understanding that they’re not the only important person in their lover’s life, and that their lover can have strong emotions of love for others without it changing their love for their partner. Thus far, it hasn’t come up as a major conflict in their relationship, because Oda is dead, but recent revelations in the fourth Release story (the reliability of the character who gave the reveal, notwithstanding) raises some interesting questions stemming from: what if Oda could be brought back to life. Most readers seemed to have accepted Chuuya’s logic built on his personal narrative that Dazai was in love with Oda and vice versa, that if Dazai is trying to bring Oda back, he’s using Chuuya to do it as some sacrifice, because he truly loves Oda and wants to be with Oda, and that his relationship with Chuuya is meaningless. So, if we stay within that perspective we’re left with the one question: is he really trying to bring Oda back? -- and the conclusion drawn from it being: if he is, he doesn’t love Chuuya, and if he isn’t, he does love Chuuya. But there are some other important questions I don’t see too many readers asking, such as: are these things truly mutually exclusive? Would Dazai being romantically in love with Oda represent the only explanation for why Dazai would want to bring Oda back to life? Would Dazai really see bringing Oda back as being in conflict with his and Chuuya’s developing romance?

Of course, this added potential motivation for Dazai aside, stopping the Grimm Brotherhood is paramount. This is a dangerous organization that is doing horrendous things, and their mysterious machinations are made more ominous by the fact our heroes don’t fully know their ultimate goals. Thus far, everything that’s happened involving Chuuya has been beneficial towards bringing down the Grimm Brotherhood. Regardless if Dazai is pursuing the Brotherhood for personal reasons, his actions still align with the motivations of the Agency and Chuuya.

I don’t know if this answered your question but I hope that you might trust me as a writer that has no intention of “pulling one over” on the readers and that you will continue to stick with the story. I don’t get my jollies from leaving stories with unsatisfactory endings. I believe that there should always be an appropriate payoff that the story built towards. Thank you for the question, thank you for reading and enjoying my other stories, and I hope that you take care!

[haileygarciasunshine]

Reunion

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Word Count: 1,683

Warning: Swearing, Making out

Summary: When Tom falls ill, his estranged son comes back into the reader's life bringing more than she bargained for.

Wattpad

Buy me a coffee

Leaning against your shut apartment door, you closed your eyes letting out a deep breath. It had been a long day at the diner, with many rude customers. Tossing your bag onto the floor, you made your way to the couch, laying across it. Pulling your phone out, you began looking through your notifications. There was a voicemail from Tom Curry.

As you listened to it, you picked up your purse before you made your way back out of your apartment. Starting your beat up pickup truck, you began driving to Tom’s house. It was 11:30pm. Tom was friends with your parents when they were still alive, which resulted in you and Arthur becoming best friends. He had been acting strange as of late, but you knew not to pressure him knowing he would tell you in his own time. 

The message that Tom had left you, made your heart beat more rapid. You spent most of the drive worrying about what could be wrong. When Arthur's mother died, it took a huge toll on him and his father. Your relationship was simply platonic, although many people thought you were together due to your closeness.

Flinging open the car door, you had barely put it in park before you jumped out of the truck.

“Tom?” You called frantically. “Tom?”

Your frantic feelings coming through when you knocked on the door. It was rapid and firm. 

“Tom!” You called again. “It’s Y/N! Open up!”

Still no answer. Fear began coursing through your veins. Letting out a sigh, you kicked the door open, debris flying. 

“Tom?” You called cautiously entering his house. An odd feeling overwhelming you.

Slowing entering the house further, you glanced around the house. Stepping through the threshold for the kitchen you saw him lying on the floor motionless.

“Tom!” You shrieked, quickly kneeling beside him. Pulling out your phone you were about to call 911, before you remembered it would be at least ten minutes before they got to you. Grabbing one of his arms you hoisted him up, getting him into the truck. Exceeding the normal speed limit, it was a few minutes before you arrived at the hospital. Hosting him up again, you trudged through the emergency room. 

“Someone please help!” You called. 

A group of nurses quickly surrounding you, taking Tom and placing him on a hospital bed.

Watching them take Tom into a room, you quickly made your way back to your truck parking it somewhere safe. Making your way back towards the ER, you pulled your phone out calling Arthur. 

It was only a matter of minutes before Arthur, Clark and Bruce, showed up at the ER.

“How’s he doing?” Arthur questioned handing you a cup of coffee.

Taking a sip of the coffee, you shrugged. “I don’t know. They haven’t come out with any updates yet.”

Glancing at the clock it read 1:30am.

“It only takes your father getting hurt for you to come by and see him.” You spat raising an eyebrow. 

“Y/N…”

Huffing you shook your head. “Save it. I’m not the one that you need to explain that to.”

Frowning he glanced at his shoes. “I...I…”

“I don’t care about your excuses, Arthur.” You snapped glaring at him. “Tom deserved better.” 

“He had you.” He reasoned. “You were there to take care of him.”

“That’s your justification for running away and leaving him?” Your voice filled with anger. Challenging him, you took steps forward stopping until you were mere inches apart. “What a pathetic excuse you have, Arthur.” 

A firm hand grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from Arthur. “Simmer down here children.” A deep voice sounded.

“Don’t touch me.” You spat, heat coursing through your veins, rising in your cheeks. Your heart beating rapidly. The lights around the waiting room, bursting causing small embers to fall as the burst. The electric lines outdoors near the room doing the same.

Grounding yourself, your chest began rising and falling at a rapid pace. Glancing at the men before you, they were staring at you with widened eyes. Grabbing your purse, you swiftly making your way down the hall. As you made your way through the halls, it dawned on you that you were still in your waitress uniform.

“Y/N!” Arthur called behind you. 

Shaking your head, you didn’t care to stop. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months had gone by since you had last seen Arthur. It killed you everyday since then that you weren’t able to reconnect with your best friend, seeing as how close you were to rekindling the relationship. It had almost been like old times, him bringing you coffee, being your rock during a drastic time.

It was one of your rare days off, you were cleaning around your apartment. A firm knock echoed through your apartment, causing fear to wash over you. You weren’t expecting anyone to come over. 

Opening the door, you were face to face with one of the men from the night at the ER. 

“Y/N?” His deep voice questioned. “I’m a friend of Arthur’s. My name’s Bruce.” 

Allowing him in, you began brewing coffee for the both of you.

“What can I help you with Bruce?” You asked, leaning against the counter not meeting his gaze. 

“It’s about Arthur.” He began hope filling his voice.

Letting out a huff you shook your head. “I don’t know what you think I can help with.” You stated crossing your arms, sending a glare towards the man. “I’m not his keeper. Nor am I his friend.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

After, Bruce left you with some food for thought, you began chewing on it. Arthur was one of your best friends, could you really just walk away from him? 

Bruce had offered you a spot in the Justice League seeing what you had done in the ER waiting room. Graciously you declined, not wanting to be involved with things you couldn’t handle.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The news of Tom’s death was felt around the world. Holding a wake for him, you were filled with an anxious feeling. Anxiously waiting to see if Arthur came or not. Hours began to pass, as your hope began to felter. Letting out a sigh, everyone had come and gone leaving you with the duty of cleaning up the space and the trash.

“Am I too late?” Arthur’s voice rang through the hall. 

Tears began pooling in your eyes as relief washed over you. Turning around, you were surprised to see everyone in the Justice League standing beside him. 

“No.” You muttered, swiftly walking towards him. “Never too late.” You threw your arms around him, pulling him as close as possible towards you. The warmth of his hug, comforted you. 

“I’m sorry.” He muttered into your shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you both needed me. I’m sorry-”

Pulling away from him, you rested your hands on his biceps. “None of that.” You spoke in a firm tone. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” You smiled, gazing at each other.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur introduced you to the rest of the team. They were very understanding and welcoming towards you. 

“Let’s go to the bar.” Arthur spoke. 

Frowning, your gaze fell to the floor. “I...I don’t know.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer Y/N. Come on.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The night coming to a close, you were a little more tispy than you were used to. Clark had insisted he escort you home.

“Why’d you walk me home, Clark?” You asked curtly.

“I..I don’t know.” He frowned slightly, not expecting your question.

You hummed in response. “You’ve never talked to me yet somehow you are always around me.” Raising an eyebrow at him, you turned toward him slightly.

Letting up on him, the rest of the walk was in an awkward silence. 

Arriving at your building, you were facing each other. Rocking back and forth slightly, you gazed at the ground in front of you. 

“Do you want to come up?” 

“If you’re okay with that.” 

Giggling slightly, you nodded leading him upstairs. 

Changing into something more comfortable, you gazed at Clark in the middle of your living room still in a tux. Since meeting, you both had been prancing around your feelings between you for quite some-time. You failed to realize you were leaning against your doorframe, gawking at Clark.

“Like what you see?” He smirked, questioning in a teasing tone. 

You hummed in response, biting your bottom lip. Clark was in front of you in a split second. One of his hands resting comfortably on your hip while the other brought his thumb up to your lip, pulling it from your teeth. Gazing into your eyes, he slowly leaned forward nuzzling his nose against yours. His soft lips touching yours in hesitation. Bringing your hands up to his hair, they locked themselves behind his head holding him to you. His tongue darted out tracing the crevices of your lip before you allowed him into your mouth. Both of your tongues prodding and licking against each other. Taking in a sharp breath, he began leading you to your bed. Your knees hitting the edge of the bed before you pulled Clark onto your bed with you. Making himself comfortable above you. His soft lips trailing along the column of your throat earning a gasp from you when he began sucking and biting in his wake. 

“Guys!” Victor boomed walking into your apartment. 

“We know you’re here!” Barry spoke. 

“Figured we could do some team building!” Arthur added.

Letting out a sigh, Clark placed a chaste kiss to your lips before standing up, pulling you with him.

Stepping into the living room, the three men dropped their gazes to you.

“We weren’t interrupting something were we?” Arthur spoke in a gruff voice. 

Clearing your throat, you spoke. “No, not at all.” You shook your head.

“Umm.” Barry started. “Are you sure? Cause Clark has some lipstick on his face and collar-”

Victor elbowed him roughly, causing him to cough.

“What’re you guys doing here?” You asked, swiftly changing the subject. 

“Movie Night!” The three of them replied in unison.