#there just wasn't anything on and we had it on the DVR

[dameronology]

we can't be friends (steve rogers)

summary: based on we can't be friends by ariana grande

warnings: angst, swearing

sorry for being absent for six months. even more sorry that this is what i came back with. enjoy!

Being loved by Steve Rogers was like sunlight on a stormy day. Peaking through the clouds, encouraging you to come out of whatever shelter you'd chosen; letting you smell the fresh rain on the pavement as the light finally came through, taking back the water until next time. It was warm on your skin, right through to your bones and your heart and to your very soul. You could have basked in it forever.

The mornings were your favourite, waking up to golden alabaster skin, carved into his muscles. They were slightly scarred, with jagged pink marks of stab wounds and bullet skims and far too many near misses for you to be comfortable. Of course, he healed faster than most but when you were as trigger happy as Steve Rogers was, barely a mission went by when he didn't come home with some minor wound or another. Still, him being there was the most important part. He'd let out a sleepy little yawn and subconsciously roll over to hold you, taking him in his arms and pulling you to his chest. That was where you felt safest.

No matter how busy he was or how demanding work became, Steve always showed up. Flowers waiting for you on the counter after a bad day; ordering take out when you were ill and always making sure your favourite show was recorded on the DVR. You never even had to ask. He'd buy you new roses before your old ones had even began to wilt; had your busiest work days recorded in your phone calendar so that he could step up, even when his own job was pulling him across the country. That was the thing about Steve Rogers: he always showed up.

Until he didn't.

Being loved by Steve Rogers was like sunlight on a rainy day, but waiting for him to love you back was a never-ending storm. Rain pelting down, hammering onto your clothes and seeping through to your skin and your bones and eventually drowning your heart. There was no dry escape. No shelter to hide from the rain. You always felt it - the wet, the cold, the shivering - no matter how hard you tried to escape. There was no getaway from the realisation that he no longer loved you back, or from the 19 miscalled waiting on his phone, or from the dead roses wilted on your kitchen windowsill.

Long conversations about your future had turned into silent, screaming pauses. The arguments felt pointless. You could only beat a dead horse so many times before you realised it wasn't coming back to life.

You sat on opposite ends of the sofa now. Slept on different sides of the bed. Watched your favourite show in silence whilst he tapped away at his laptop, barely even bothered by your presence. He'd sat too a high standard for himself. It was one he couldn't keep, but even the bare minimum was a golden standard compared to what he was giving you these days.

"I'm done."

You'd surprised yourself more than anyone with the words. Steve had come home from work late again. The fourth time that week, twelfth time that month and countless times overall. You'd made dinner. It was cold now, like the stony expression on his face and the watery one on yours.

"What?"

Steve glanced up from his phone, brow furrowed.

"I'm done," you said.

"With what?"

You sighed deeply, regathering yourself for a moment. Pushed down the lump in your throat, shoulders raised to try and show whatever tatters of your pride you had left.

"I'm leaving you," you said. "I can't...I don't want to sit around and wait for you to love me again."

Steve put his phone down, pausing for a moment. It looked like he was going to say something...maybe anything. Even though your mind was made up, part of you wanted him to beg. To get on his knees, take your hands and plead for your heart back. God knows that this time a year ago, he would have pleaded with you in person and with writing in the sky.

Instead, he just sniffed.

He sniffed, and you left. Keys to your shared apartment thrown into the dish on the side, never to be taken again. At least the Lego heart keys chain you had together would be together again - you know, when he was actually home.

Whatever time you had previously put into your relationship, you now put into yourself. Found a nice little loft on the other side of the river - it felt like the wrong side, but everything felt wrong without him - and decorated it with everything but photos of you together. There was a nice rug, and a beautiful sofa, and your marble counters were a nice welcome home.

Still, the bed felt cold. Not as cold as it had when he'd lovelessly laid beside you, but still. Cold. It felt strange only having one tooth brush in the holder, and only one bottle of shower gel on the edge of your bath. The toilet seat was always down now (Steve had had only one flaw, and that was it) and you always tripped over the shoes that you left by the door because he no longer tidied them away.

It felt like half your heart was missing, but eventually it grew back.

You forgot about Steve, and the Avengers, and that entire world until Natasha Romanoff texted you. It had been six months since your break-up by that point, and even though you missed them all dearly, it had been natural for Steve to get them in the break-up. You had your friends. He had his. But, it was nice that Natasha still thought of you.

Hey, hope you're doing well. I'm having my birthday party next week at my apartment. 7pm, same building as always. It would be nice if you came. Steve may or may not be but he's been annoying lately so I'd rather have you. Let me know <3

At first, it had been an immediate no. Then you thought about it some more, and it was a definitive no. Then, you found yourself calling Nat and talking for three hours straight.

Apparently Morgan was in her One Direction era, and had thrown an hour long tantrum when she found out they weren't together anymore. Pepper and Tony had tried to pay for a reunion, but they weren't interested. Bruce was doing an assignment in France and Clint and his family had moved a little closer to the city. Sam and Bucky were still working for the government and naturally, that had brought Natasha onto the subject of Steve.

Doing better. That's what she said. Apparently he wasn't working as late anymore and he'd cut down his hours. He was going to therapy, drinking less and working out more. She'd lingered on the last sentence, but ended it with he's more like your Steve again.

That made you want to go to the party even less, and yet the following weekend you found yourself stood outside Natasha's high-rise apartment building at 7:35PM. You'd put more effort into your appearance than usual; a more expensive fragrance, spent a little longer on your hair and worn the outfit Steve had always thought you looked best in. Maybe it was a calculated move, but you'd never been all that good at maths.

Your entrance was met with four or five hugs. Natasha looked amazing as ever, and Bucky was brighter now. Tony was elated to see you and you didn't ask about Pepper's little baby bump, but you could see it was there. Your mind was kept too occupied by all them to even think about Steve.

That - naturally - all came crashing down when you saw him across the room. He was leant against a pillar, hair longer now but fluffed up and a 5 o'clock shadow gathered on his chin. Not like the man with long hair and a beard that you'd left, but not quite the squeaky clean looking Steve you'd fallen in love with either. Still though, it was closer. He was showing through the cracks.

The question of whether or not you would approach him answered itself, because you blinked and suddenly he was stood in front of you.

"I owe you an apology."

Straight to the fucking chase.

You faltered slightly, but didn't let it show. "Yeah, I think you do."

Steve glanced around you at all your friends - naturally, they were all staring at you. They might have been superheroes but that didn't stop them being nosey fuckers.

"Let's go to the roof," he said. "I mean...if you want. You don't owe me anything."

You nodded your head. "Let's go to the roof."

The climb up the stairs to Natasha's terrace was awkward, but not as bad as the silence that quickly filled the cold air as soon as you got up there. Steve might have been one of the bravest men you'd ever met, but vulnerability scared the shit out of him. You suspected that was the case now.

"So?" you asked. "What could you possibly have to say?"

"I'll only say that I'm sorry once," Steve began. "So: I'm sorry. For pushing you out, for not trying, for letting work consume me. Even more for the fact I didn't even try to stop you leaving, because as soon as you shut the door, all I wanted to do was run after you, but I'm not stupid. I knew your mind was made up."

"Where are you going with this?"

"You leaving was like a bucket of cold water," he continued. "It made me realise a lot of things - about how much I'd left myself go, mostly. I've stopped drinking and started going to therapy, and I have my work hours capped."

You smiled. "Well done, Steve. That's really great."

"I'm better now. Not fully, but...I'm getting there," Steve replied. "I asked Natasha to invite you tonight. She wanted to anyways but it was sort of my idea."

"Why?"

"So I could apologise, but mostly because I want you back in my life," he explained. "As friends, as something more. Hell, I'll take you as my enemy if it means I get to see you again."

You sighed, eyes falling to the ground. What could you even say to that? Enemies sounded pretty good - and definitely well deserved - but you didn't hate Steve. You'd moved on, but that didn't mean you'd lost all capability to love him.

"How do I know you won't do it again?" you asked.

"You don't," he replied. "I don't know that either, but what if it doesn't happen again? What if...what if things were really good?"

You glanced away, eyes staring at the distant Manhattan skyline for a moment. It glittered and glimmered, mostly rebuilt after the 2012 incident. You could see Stark Tower as well. Steve had told you he loved you for the first time on that roof top. Now, here he was, begging for you back on another.

"Friends," you muttered. "We can be friends. I don't know after that. I've waited six fucking months for you to decide that you love me again-"

" - I never stopped -"

" - not the point, Steve!" you cut him off. "We'll start with friends, then go from there."

"I'll wait ten years if I have to," he said. His smile suggested he was joking, but you knew he wasn't.

With that, Steve pulled you into a hug. In your soul, you knew you couldn't be friends. Enemies was worst but strangers was horrible too. The answer was inevitable, but you just had to make him wait a little while.

maybe a part 2?

[stuckwithmys30lf]

I don't know if I ever had a vision of my dating life too far off into the future as a teenager. I never had really been crush-obsessed, save for Pete Wentz circa 2008 (you just had to be there). What I do know is that I would have never imagined being in the throes of divorce at 29 and attempting to begin dating again.

But as I wrapped up a much needed family trip to San Diego, and the sabbatical I took after leaving Joshua, I knew I didn't want anything serious again for a very long time. While I didn't want sleepovers every weekend and flowers at my door, a consistent lay that wasn't an awful human being sounded just like what I needed. Unfortunately, anyone with a pulse and access to a dating app in 2024 knows that both should be expected, neither are to be guaranteed.

So imagine how it felt finding one really, really good one so quickly. Then watching it drive away. Really, really quickly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

I just watched Simone Biles fall off the beam during the Women's Gymanstic's Olympic Individual Beam Final on my DVR when Tavis called. The suspiciously slippery beam had already made headlines by the time I was off from work and ready to watch the recording, so I knew what I was getting into. The vault final took place just days before and I talked Travis' ear off about the drama over a mediocre breakfast. I couldn't wait to tell him more.

With one arm stretched, pausing Simone mid jump-up back on the beam, I held my phone to the opposite ear.

"Hey handsome! I was hoping you'd call. I'm watching women's gymnastics right now and it's pretty crazy."

"Jane..."

My stomach lurched forward. This was what I had been suspecting would come since the day before, where my texts with Travis had seen more blue than gray. I noted it, decided I was reading too much into things, and moved on. Despite not wanting anything serious, the sting of the breakup call still crawls its way down my throat. I pull the phone away from my face as I take a deep breath.

"I want you to know that I think you are beautiful and I have really enjoyed getting to know you over the past few weeks, but -"

I don't cut him off. I stare straight ahead and try to stifle a nervous smile. I let him get through the classic "it's not you, it's me" speech. "I just got promoted, I have a lot going on." I know none of these things are untrue. When he's finished I thank him for being kind and honest and let him go on about his day.

I really meant it, I admired his ability to be tactful and careful about the situation. Travis was the perfect first guy to have a small, casual relationship after I left Joshua. If 2024 could have any true gentleman left at all, Travis was one of them and it does a woman good to remind herself that she can keep her standards high.

We had met only weeks ago at a coffee shop in the middle of a business park. This wasn't intentional, this is just how a lot of the Puget Sound is set up outside of Seattle. If the little boxes on the hillside are made of ticky-tacky, Kent is made of 3 to 4 story, depressing, cardboard boxes.

Despite being in the middle of a town no one has ever heard of, the two of us grinned at each other while he pulled out my chair and the sun sent cascading golden waves over the adjacent reflection pool. (Side note: what, well - business, do some of these business parks have being so beautiful in the middle of nothing but highways and drive-thru coffee stands?)

Travis opened up to me over the next two weeks and in 4 hour long midnight Discord talks. He also was going through a divorce, and we both had previous partners who made us feel better off alone. It felt nice to confide in someone who sympathized, who knew how it felt at that very moment. Two people hell bent on eye contact, staring into each other's souls and recognizing the hurt.

We held hands. We took things to the bedroom. It was fun. It felt free to know that things could feel this electric again. I didn't want to spend forever with him, but I wanted to spend a bit longer with him. He had bright, hazel green eyes and always looked at me with such softness, and those were the last things I imagined as I put my phone down.

I let out a deep sigh. "Bummer." I didn't cry. I resumed watching Simone Biles come in 5th. I remind myself she's still the best to ever do it.

Fuck, I forgot my favorite leggings at his place. 

[chlodani]

This is my new smau. It's a Sokka x F!Reader pairing smau. Title: More Than A Roommate

Trigger warning: Mature! Slight swear warning! If your sensitive to mature language and swearing, I've warned you ahead of time. Fluff warning!

Y/n's new roommate seems intensely interested in her life and wants to know everything about her. She's flattered and a little freaked out, but it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Though she thinks it's a problem that he's so handsome and their living together. But what will he do when he finds out Y/n's a Firebender? Will he accept her for who she is or will he shut her out because of his bad past with the Fire Nation?

Special Edition Part 8. . .

Part 9 coming soon. . .

Y/n's P.O.V.

I sighed as I set my phone down on the couch beside me. I turned my phone down to vibrate. After Jet I honestly don't want to talk to anyone else tonight. Maybe spending this time with Jet will help me. I know we broke up, but honestly it was my fault why we broke up. I dumped him. And that was because I was leaving the Freedom Fighters and I couldn't stay with him. I had duties in other places and I had to leave. I made Jet think it was his fault. Mainly because it was too painful to tell him the truth. Now things are just too complicated. I still have feelings for him, and I have feelings for Sokka. I dont know what I'm supposed to do as of right now. I was afraid Sokka was gonna be mad at me and now I dont know what to do. The doorbell sounded throughout the apartment. I took in a deep breath before walking over to the door. I was nervous to open it. I haven't seen Jet in a few years. But as I said, maybe it'll help me. I opened the door to Jet standing there with a six pack of dt. Pepsi cans, and a bag with chips, popcorn and chocolate. He smiled as he held them up.

"Hey, I brought your favorite," he told me with a smile.

Without knowing what I was doing at that moment, I attacked him, by throwing my arms around his neck, hugging him. It took him way by surprise as he accidentally dropped the bag of snacks. Though he didnt hesitate to put his free arm around me, pulling me closer to him. He practically buried his face in my neck.

"Thanks for comin' Jet," I said to him on the verge of tears.

Jet took in a deep breath.

"I missed you so much," Jet said to me softly.

After realizing I was still hugging him, and now things were awkward as hell, I cleared my throat moving away from him.

"Well, please step into my apartment," I said to him.

Jet picked up the bag.

"Gladly," he spoke seeming happy.

I closed the door as he walked in.

"I see you've got most of the place set up," Jet said to me as he set the stuff on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Yeah, - I've got Ghost Hunters qued up on the DVR, - and also blankets on the couch -"

"So we can cuddle?"

I gave him a cocky look.

"So we can comfortable, -"

Jet gave me a devious smile. I laughed as I walked over to the couch.

"Dont be an a*s," I told him as I sat down.

I picked up one of the blankets, covering myself. I shivered as Jet stood behind the couch, directly behind me.

"I'm gonna go freshen up in the bathroom, - Where is it?" Jet asked me leaning closer to me.

"Uh, just down the hallway, next to Sokka's room," I answered.

Jet gently and on purpose, touched my shoulder as he walked away. I think he knew I still had feelings for him and he was gonna do everything he could to prove that to me. I sat there waiting almost impatiently for him too return. I found myself wanting him to be in the room with me. I thought about checkin my phone but I didn't. Tonight I just wanna forget about my troubles. As Jet stood back in the living room, he turned the lights off. Leaving just the lights of the tv in the room. I looked back at him, just staring at him.

"What? It makes watching the TV that much more entertaining," Jet said to me in an innocent tone.

"Mhmm, and is there any reason why you're wearing your shirt unbuttoned?" I asked him.

"Its hot in here,"

I scoffed, "It is not hot in here, I have the AC on,"

"Oh, then it's just me,"

I smiled as I rolled my eyes.

"Get your dumb a*s over here before I change my mind and make you leave,"

Jet moved around to sit next to me. My stomach jumped as he did.

"Na, you couldn't - You need someone right now,"

I pressed my lips together in slight annoyance.

"Yeah, - Sadly you're right - Its too bad it had to be you,"

Jet pretended to be offended.

"Ouch,"

In a soft gesture, he put his arm on the back of the couch, motioning that he wanted to put his arm around me. I dont know why I did it, but I moved closer to him, snuggling up next to him, letting him put his arm around me. I remember when this was me and Sokka. I'm afraid he wont be coming back. I let myself get closer to Jet. I'm afraid this wont end well.

Later that night. . .

I leaned away from Jet, sitting back up on the couch. Jet had a concerned look as he looked at me.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Jet asked me concerned.

"Yeah, - I think so -"

I looked at him as I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Jet I want to thank you for spending time with me tonight. I didn't really wanna hang out with anybody, but you've helped me forget about my problems, pretty easily," I said to him in a soft voice.

"It always was easy for me to help you forget about your problems, -"

I looked at him as he moved closer. He used his finger to move a piece of my hair from my eye.

"Especially the way I used to do it," Jet said to me as he rested his hand on the side of my neck.

He moved even closer, almost touching his lips to mine. I moved away from him slightly. He backed away. I thought he would feel embarrassed, but he didnt.

"Listen Y/n, one of the reasons I wanted to find you was to tell you that, I really miss you, and that I love you. I want us to get back together," Jet explained to me confidently.

"Jet, I don't-"

"Y/n, I know the real reason you broke up with me,"

An oh sh*t look crossed my face.

"You do?"

"You broke up with me because you were leaving and you were going to miss me. You only made it seem like it was my fault, because you thought it wouldn't hurt as much. - I know you still love me, just as much as I love you- You cant deny it,"

I scoffed, adding a laugh.

"Yes, I can,"

Jet moved closer, putting his hand on my knee.

"Tell me you dont feel anything when I touch you,"

He didnt move his hand from my knee. My stomach was turned inside out. I tried to lie to him. Though I couldn't look him in the face.

"I dont feel anything for you anymore,"

"You're lying to me,"

"No, I'm not,"

Jet moved his hand farther up my leg. I could physically feel the shivers.

"Then look at me,"

I still didnt want to. I didnt want him to win. He moved his hand resting it on my hip.

"You sure you dont feel anything?"

I still said nothing. He moved even closer, running his hand slowly and softly up and down on my arm.

"What about now?"

I quickly put my hand on the side of his neck, connecting our lips, kissing him passionately. He seemed satisfied as he smiled into our kiss, moving even closer to me. He moved close enough to hover above me, holding himself up with the arm of the couch. In a quick instant he took off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. I might've given him the wrong impression.

. . .

Sokka's P.O.V.

I was very curious as to why Y/n wasn't answering my texts. I thought at least she would want to try to fix our relationship - our friendship. She means the world to me. I admit I'm a huge a*s for ignoring her and getting mad at her. I was just upset that she lied to me. I dont care that she's a Firebender. She's still amazing, and caring and loving. Even more than Zuko. Honestly, I would love to see her practice her Firebending. As long as she doesnt set our apartment on fire. I dont think we have the insurance for that. I quietly unlocked the door. Only to have my heart ripped out, when I saw her kissing a shirtless guy on our couch. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't get the words out. I didnt want to, but I couldn't help myself as a single tear fell from my eye. I slowly turned around and walked back out of the apartment.

If you dont want to be a part of the taglist let me know and I will remove you. I will not unless you ask me to.

Taglist:

@cece-lives-here

@sokkas--boomerang

@la-lay

@cuddlykoala101

@zukochi

@mochminnie

@theblueslytherin

@coldlilheart

@coconutsaiyan

@rosestyles69

@juniperwoodwell

@crazylokonugget

@fanficflaneuse

@dailytrashypanda

@feelingsarefxtxl

@my-friends-text-posts

@cosmicqueenieb

If you want to be apart of the taglist message me or reply. I'd be happy to add you

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

CHAPTER TWO: ALL SAINTS DAY

1.2.1 WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 29th, 6:04pm PT‬

Woodsboro, California

‪

“Okay, let's see what we have here,” Ophelia Tate said, pulling a plastic clipboard from the little cubby beside the door and looking at the chart that was affixed to it. She skimmed over it and then looked up at her young patient. On the hospital bed, sitting atop the clean white paper, was a short and skinny little brunette girl, with big square glasses and a red beanie cap that made her look a lot like Velma from Scooby Doo. Just under the cap on her left eyebrow she was holding an ice pack, wrapped in a towel soaked in blood.

“It says here you fell and hit your head on a water heater?” Ophelia asked her, pulling the little rolling stool out from under the cabinets on the far side of the room and seating herself upon it.

“Yeah,” the girl sighed, showing a row of silver braces. “I know...I'm such a klutz”.

Ophelia looked again at the clipboard. “Yasmin? Did I say it right.” Ophelia made sure she pronounced the “Y” like a “J”, the girl did look Hispanic.

Yasmin smiled, “First one today.”

Ophelia tossed the clipboard on the bed next to her patient and pulled some latex gloves out of her smock. “Excellent. Let's have a look!”

The young girl withdrew the towel containing the ice pack and a spurt of blood shot out passed Ophelia's face, sprinkling the tile behind her.

“Whoa!” Ophelia gasped and reached over and grabbed the girl's hand with the towel in hers and pressed it back onto her eye. “Let's keep that on there shall we!”

Yasmin swooned.

“Breathe,” Ophelia said looking at her. “You look pale...are you gonna pass out?”

“I don't know,” Yasmin stuttered, “Maybe.”

“Well don't,” Ophelia smiled, “It's my last night of work here in this place and I don't want to be spending it picking you back up off the floor.”

Yasmin smiled. “I'm okay...I think.”

“I'll get you a cup of water and Jennifer, our nurse, is gonna come in here and butterfly that. Then we'll wait and see if it can close a little bit. Then we'll decide it we have to use stitches or glue.”

“Oh please glue! I don't want stitches.” Yasmin cried.

Ophelia grabbed the clipboard and began writing. “Well, I'll tell you this,” she said while she scrawled, “Glue is much easier, but it doesn't heal as well. Sometimes...a lot of times...the scar ends up jagged where the glue held better in some parts than others.” She looked up, “And where it is on your eyebrow...it might make your eyebrow look crooked. If you let us stitch it, it can heal up in a few months and you'll probably not even be able to tell it was ever there.”

Yasmin's shoulders dropped. “Then stitches.”

Ophelia folded the clipboard in her arms, hugging it to her chest. “Are you sure?”

“Hell yeah,” Yasmin exclaimed, “I have senior pictures next year. A crooked eyebrow on a guy is cute...a crooked eyebrow on a girl is the difference between a rich husband who takes you on a honeymoon to Barbados, and Joe MBA who takes you to Miami.”

Ophelia frowned, “I like Miami.”

Yasmin gave her a look and they both laughed.

“My question is how the hell you smacked your head on the water-heater?” Ophelia asked.

Yasmin rolled her eyes, “On Wednesday nights I ride the school-bus to my church for youth group after school. We basically just hang out and play games down in the church basement and...well, this guy Juan Menendez..we were...I don't know...chasing each other or something and I tripped over the leg of the ping-pong table and fell...right in to the water heater.”

Ophelia grimaced, “Ouch...right in front of him?”

Yasmin grimaced back, “Yeah....I know...so embarrassing”

“What did Juan do?” Ophelia asked.

Yasmin smiled and closed her eyes dreamily. “He got me this towel...and this ice...and he picked me up off the floor and put me on the ping pong table.”

“Is he the cute guy in the waiting room with the blue shirt and white shorts and the gold necklace?” Ophelia asked.

“No way, he's here?!” Yasmin dropped the rag, sending another spurt of blood that just missed Ophelia's smock.

“Whoa! Keep that on there,” Ophelia said laughing. “I'll go tell Jennifer you want the stitches.”

“Aren't you going to do it? I like you,” Yasmin said pleadingly.

“Sorry kid. My time at Woodsboro Family Medical Center has come to an end. Actually ten minutes ago. I'm transferring to a new hospital in Illinois and I got to get out of here and get on the road.”

“Illinois? What's in Illinois?” Yasmin grimaced again.

Ophelia plopped the clipboard back in it's spot. “Lots of corn I hear.” She snapped off her gloves and stomped the pedal on the stainless steel trashcan by the door and dropped them in.

She headed down the hall and turned to the left toward the break room. The annex area there was empty, which was odd because usually there was at least one nurse at the nurses station. She had her purse in her locker to get and she knew she had at least one frozen meal in the staff room freezer to throw away. She hated when people left their food behind and she didn't want to be one of those people. To her surprise, there wasn't anything in the staff room freezer, so she shrugged, pulled her purse out of her locker and turned to walk out the door, feeling strange that there was no one around to say bye to or have wish her luck. Just then, Dr. Holmes, a young Chinese girl who had been Dr. Yang a month ago before she married a nice plastic surgeon from Cloverdale, popped into the door, making Ophelia jump.

“Oh...sorry Dr. Tate,” she said.

“Jesus Yang you scared the shit out of me,” Ophelia still hadn't gotten used to calling her Homes. Usually Holmes corrected her...and everyone else who made the mistake, but this time she didn't.

“Dr. Shaw wants to see you in the conference room, he has some forms you need to sign before you leave.”

Ophelia groaned, “Really?! I have to get out on the road.”

Holmes shrugged.

Ophelia followed the young Dr. Holmes out of the break-room, passed a pair of restrooms and a supply closet to the conference room. The door was shut, which was odd, and even odder was the fact that Dr. Homes stepped out of the way to allow Ophelia to open the door. Ophelia frowned and pushed the handle.

“SURPRISE!!!”

The room was full of doctors and nurses, as well as balloons and streamers. On the giant mahogany conference table was a large cake, upon which was written: GOOD LUCK DR. TATE! There were also various fruit and vegetable trays and a pitcher of what looked like pink lemonade. Her husband stood there too in one of his ridiculous sweater vests that Ophelia had asked him over and over again not to wear, smiling at her from ear to ear. In the corner, sprawled out on a couple of chairs was their son Damon, but he was wrapped up in his smartphone and didn't look up. In front of him was the small TV on which there was a baseball game.

“Oh my gosh,” Ophelia put her hands to her cheeks, “You really got me..I never expected this.”

Dr. Shaw was an older gentlemen, and he was standing next to Ophelia's husband Jack. He came around the table and embraced her, kissing her cheek, “Well you should have my dear. You've been part of the team for so long, you don't think we would send you away without some kind of celebration?”

Ophelia's husband Jack approached her next and and leaned in to kiss her. Ophelia turned her head and offered him her cheek. “Surprise,” he said quietly.

“You know I hate surprises,” she said under her breath through her teeth.

“Smile and fake it,” he answered.

“That's what I'm doing,” she replied, “I thought we had to get on the road.”

“I budgeted time for this,” he answered.

Dr. Holmes/Yang came up next and hugged her. “I was convincing?” She asked.

“Yes,” Ophelia smiled, “You were very convincing.”

Ophelia's best workmate Tonya, a big beautiful black woman in pink scrubs came up next. She squealed like a middle school girl at a slumber party and hugged Ophelia's neck. “Oooooohhh gurl...I am gonna miss yooooouuu!”

Ophelia laughed and said, “I know girl...I came out of 7 and looked at the nurses station and was like, 'Where the hell is everybody?'.”

“That should have been your first clue,” said Dr. Thomas. He was a tall, sexy, black doctor who had only been working at Woodsboro Family Medical long enough to make Jack Tate insanely jealous. The young doctor stuck out his very large hand, Ophelia took it.

“Where are you going exactly?” He asked.

“I have position waiting for me as the Chief of Medicine for a small town hospital in Illinois.” Ophelia replied, moving around the table and grabbing one of the small plates on the table. She held it up to Tonya. It read: HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Tonya waved her hand and laughed, “They was the only ones we had gurl!”

Ophelia smiled and grabbed the cake cutter, carving a wedge in between the last T and the E in her last name on the face of the cake.

“Really,” Thomas said, “I grew up in Springfield, what part of Illinois?”

“It's called Haddonfield,” Ophelia said plopping the cake on her plate.

“Never heard of it,” Thomas said.

“Where is the damn remote for this TV, we need the sound on.” Dr. Shaw grumbled.

“It's right here,” Damon held it up without looking up from his phone.

“Un-mute it son,” his father said.

“Isn't this Game Six?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, “It's been a hell of a series...as a doctor I've been very thankful for my DVR.”

They all laughed.

🎃

1.2.2 PRESENTLY—SATURDAY NOVEMBER 1st 2:04 AM

Interstate 70 near Booneville, Missouri

‪

Ophelia sat up straight in her seat and looked out of the windshield. She couldn't see anything but rain. She looked over at Jack who was sitting straight up in his seat also, squinting hard, his head leaning so far over the steering wheel as he drove that his forehead was mere centimeters away from the glass.

Ophelia stretched, “Where the hell are we now?” She asked.

“Somewhere in the middle of Missouri,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road.

“God it's raining hard,” she exclaimed. She pulled her phone out from the center console and disconnected the charger cord. She looked at the time. “When are we supposed to be there.”

“I expected to be close by now,” he said, “but with this damn storm, I can't go anymore than 40. It will be closer to sunrise now.”

“How long has it been storming?” Ophelia asked, pulling up her weather app.

“Since we got into Oklahoma,” he said.

Her radar was completely red, and there was scrolling banner on the top of the screen. “Says this area is under a tornado watch,” she said.

“This is the worst storm I've ever seen,” Jack grouched.

“You've lived in California your whole life,” Ophelia laughed and opened up her social media page. There were no notifications, everyone she knew was either at work or asleep right now. She looked at the dashboard. “I can't believe this old piece of junk made it!” She said.

“This baby will never die!” Jack exclaimed, for the first time taking his eyes off the road and smiling at his wife.

“Not if we keep dumping all of our money into it,” Ophelia rolled her eyes. “I'm going to miss my Mazda,” she pouted.

“I told you,” Jack replied, “As soon as we get our feet wet in Haddonfield, we'll buy you a new car.”

“I think you should trade this in,” Ophelia grumbled, putting down her phone, “You're not going to need a car sitting at home writing a book.”

“Never!” Jack said smiling, holding up a clenched fist.

Ophelia looked in the backseat. Damon was sleeping, his bluetooth earbuds still in his ears.

Jack saw that she was looking at him and looked at her. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Ophelia waved, “watch the road.”

She looked at their son a little longer and then finally turned back around and closed her eyes. “I just hope we're doing the right thing.” She said quietly.

“Of course we are,” he said, “trust me, this is going to be a great plan.”

“Yeah yeah,” Ophelia yawned, “You have a plan for everything.”

Jack ignored her snide comment, “I'm thinking about stopping off at a truck stop to take showers before we get in to the town. The sun will probably be up by the time we get there if this rain holds up and we might be able to check out the hospital. Then we can just sleep the rest of the day before we unpack everything on Sunday.”

Ophelia nodded, “If it's all part of the plan...” she said sarcastically.

“Oh shit!” Jack breathed as the car hit a puddle and hydroplaned for a second or two.

“Please don't kill us,” Ophelia said quietly, without opening her eyes. It was better that way.

NEXT>>

[madi2112]

Andy Warhol, Howard Wolowitz and me. Part 2

In part 1 at looked at some of the questions I was asking myself now that this phase of the television show is winding down.

The next question is:

Was it weird seeing yourself on T.V.?

Yes, very!

I'm my own biggest critic and to see me on television made everyone of my many flaws highly noticeable.

At least to me.

Add to fact that thousands of people will see those same things and it's scary to think about.

It's also weird seeing yourself from a different perspective. I saw everything I did in the show from the view behind my eyes.

Not from above. Or from the side or from 20' away.

So yeah, it's wierd!!

"Would I do it again?"

Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

It was so much fun. It was also a lot of work. It was also putting yourself out there.

"Was it worth it to do it?"

Yes, it was all so worth it.

At least to me.

(Confession time: I had this crazy, about to go to sleep, fantasy that my episode was so well received that Kinga and I got to do another two shows called "Finding Adventure on the Road" where we went to Egypt and New Zealand. Places on both of our travel bucket lists. LOL)

"What did you expect from it"?

I wasn't really sure.

I knew a little bit about the process of it having done television before.

Yep, about 20 years ago (or so) and a different lifetime, I was on local Sat Lake City, Utah televison doing presentations of new office supplies during back to school season for Staples the Office Supply store.

It was on a local "good morning" show and I brought an assortment of the latest greatest office supplies kids just HAD to have this school year.

It was fun and I felt natural infront of the camera.

I did that for a couple of years. Copies of those appearances exist on a DVR somewhere back in Utah.

But this was different.

I was the feature of the show. So it felt more real, there was certainly more pressure and more nerves.

But still once those subsided I got comfortable in front of the cameras again.

Bonus question I got asked today when someone who saw it wanted to talk to me about it.

"It looked like it was so much fun, what was your favorite part?"

As much fun as we were having (actually having fun not acting) my favorite parts and most cherished memories about those days came away from the shooting.

Hanging out with Kinga, just talking and visiting and becoming friends was the best.

I have said many times I wish she wasn't a public figure and we had just hung out at a training conference for work that lasted a few days. So the possibility of being accused of being a "hang-er, on-er wasn't there. But I really don't think of her as a "celebrity".

Just my friend.

And I'm grateful for that more then anything.

The fact my episode was able to touch the lives of a few people around the country who may be struggling with transition or Cancer recovery makes it all the better and long before I even met Kinga that is what motivated me to do this.

What a wonderful combination I was fortunate enough to participate in.

"Whats next?"

Doing the show has made me want to find other outlets to reach people and hopefully inspire them with my story.

So I'm looking to do that.

At work, I want to facilitate as much as I can and get better at it so I can show more people (by doing) that you too can do it! Especially those going through transition.

Outside of work I've signed up for a talent agency and am looking for more opportunities to be in front of a camera or make speeches or do presentations.

Maybe even local theater...

Who knows for sure?

I can't predict the future (or else I would know the lotto numbers) so I'm just going to do the following:

See things I haven't seen, try things I haven't tried and go places I haven't been.

Seems I heard that same thing on a television show recently.....

Oh yeah. Mine!

~Madison

[chasethesun18]

I've had my previous cable company cut the CW a couple of times, too. The first time was during a summer when I wasn't really watching anything on the network. I didn't realize it came back until I noticed my DVR was recording Elementary reruns. The second time - that one pissed me off because it was the fall season. It didn't last long, thank goodness, because if I had to stream off the website or app, I was gonna jump out the window. Long enough to panic, but not long enough for any lasting damage to my viewing schedule. Whew.

The 100 s3 is almost universally hated among the fandom. I knew I was in good company!

I loved s3 too. I binged the first two on Netflix in time for s3. I watched a few eps, then took a big break until s4 was about to air. And as soon as I started to catch up, I was like, "Why did I wait so long? This is incredible!"

Tbh, I don't really like Stydia.

jk jk jk, I just wanted to make you sweat for a second! 😂😜

I don't remember much about Stydia. I remember the trope of nerdy boy loves popular princess dating the jock. I remember the double date at the ice skating rink. Him totally swooning over her skating skills. He threatened the villain threatening her, I think. He knew her so well that he knew the exact shade of her hair color. I think she got hurt and he was waiting at the hospital, where he dropped the vending machine. He helps her figure out life as a banshee. And, of course, the famous, iconic hyperventilating scene when Papa Stilinski is in danger. I think that was the first time I felt something for them because it was the first time the attraction seemed like it could become mutual.

listen the viewing schedule is sacred. don’t disturb the viewing schedule.

i’m so glad someone else liked s3!! i waited a year to watch it because i had heard such bad things and s2 broke my heart so i needed a break. and then it was so good ?? that might just be the clarke stan in me though

GIRL THE LONG PAUSE I THOUGHT THAT WAS THE END OF YOUR ASK AND I PANICKED. ok good yes stydia for life. & same it seems very one sided at first & then they become besties and it’s so much fun

wait but we never even got to magnum - tell me your thoughts

[dameronology]

Hi are you still taking requests? I'd like to request one with Poe with number 4 from the angst list (you don't get to decide...) Safe travels!x

poe dameron + "i can't carry on like this for much longer"

It was late evening when you finally came home from work. The traffic on the Coruscant subway had almost been enough to ruin your day, and the fact it had been raining all afternoon didn't help either. You wanted nothing more than to just to get in the warm, have a cup of tea and then pass the fuck out. There was a shit ton of reality TV loaded up on the DVR and blankets on the sofa. It sounded like the perfect evening.

It didn't really click in your head that said perfect evening didn't involve Poe in any way. It had, once upon a time, but with work being impossibly busy at the moment, your relationship had sort of hit a reef. Neither of you had meant for things to go that way, but when you were both putting all your energy into rebuilding the Galactic Republic, it left little time for domestic bliss. And because you were so consumed by work, neither of you had really taken a moment to step back and think too much about the state of your relationship.

You loved Poe. You loved him with your whole heart and of course you wanted to make things work, but it just wasn't a conversation you were ready to have.

"Hey, Beebs," you greeted your droid with a tired smile, throwing your bags by the front door.

BB-8 rolling around could only mean one thing: Poe couldn't be very far.

And there he was, in the kitchen. A mug of caff in one hand and paperwork in the other; it was the earliest he'd been home in months and he looked shattered. You couldn't count the amount of times on both hands that he would creep in well past eleven o'clock, not rising until long after you'd gone to work.

"Hey," his welcome was monotonous, brown eyes barely flickering up from his datapad. "How was your day?"

"Y'know, the usual," you replied. "Got in early, stayed late, nothing to show for it."

You moved over to the fridge, ditching your wet hoodie and jacket into the dryer as you did. Poe's eyes followed you - it hadn't gone unnoticed that you hadn't bothered to ask about his day. Why would you? He'd always known you to prefer silence over small talk. He just never assumed it would be aimed at him.

"Yeah, same here," he quietly responded. "You up to anything tonight?"

It was a secret implore for please spend time with me. I miss you.

"Nothing interesting," you said. "I was just gonna watch some TV and chill out. It's been a long day."

"Mind if I join you?"

You glanced at him, eyes finally meeting. "Yeah, if you want."

No, not if I want, he thought. I want you to want it.

Poe stayed silent for another minute. He didn't want this to be the moment that everything came to head but also, what if it wasn't something he could control? This apartment used to be both your happy place; back when you were happy together, and not just dancing around each other, going about the formalities of your relationship simply because neither of you had the energy to end it.

"I can't carry on like this for much longer."

His voice broke slightly as he spoke; you quickly looked up from the slice of cheese you'd been examining, eyes wide at how the atmosphere in the room had nose-dived quicker than the time he forgot to refuel his X-Wing. You didn't need to question what it was that he was talking about it - you knew straight away.

You left it another second, unsure if you were supposed to say something.

"We've gone to shit, haven't we?" Poe continued. "I'm not saying it's your fault. I think it was a joint effort actually, or lack thereof but - I just miss the way things used to be. I don't like how we dance around each other now."

"I know," you murmured. "I don't like it either. I miss you."

"I'm right here."

"No, you're not," you shook your head. "You're never around. You probably think the same about me from your point of view, though."

"Is it just work that's keeping us away from each other?" he asked. "I mean...I know it is for me. I just don't know if there's a deeper thing on your side. Like that you've fallen out of love with me-"

"- no!" you quickly exclaimed.

Throwing your cheese aside, you crossed the room and took Poe's hands in yours. They felt foreign and familiar at the same time, maybe like he was a lover from a past life. He might as well have been at that point. Still, though, you could run your fingers over the calloused palms and recall how he gained every single scar; how every mark came to be, like a map in your head of the man you loved. The man you still loved.

"I love you, Poe," you said firmly. "Just...think of a relationship like a plant. If you neglect it, it will die. And I think we can both safely say that we haven't exactly been nourishing ours."

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean for things to get like this. I wanted to work hard to create a safe galaxy for us and I think I've gotten so caught up in it that I forgot why I was doing it in the first place.

"It's okay," you sadly smiled. "Well, maybe it's not okay, not from either of us, but I do want to try. I really want to try."

Poe leant down and brushed his lips against yours; it was the first time that had happened in months. It felt like a spark of hope. The feeling that maybe things would be okay.

He smiled. "Me too."