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the-californicationist · 1 year ago

Note

i did send the same thing to another writer i enjoy bc i love different takes on things, but my little dumpster brain has had one thought in the last 24 hours - imagine confiding in your captain that you'd like to have a baby bc biological clock or whatever, and being in the field really puts a damper on your sex life, so that makes it difficult. but the 141 will do anything for one of their own, so if that means they're running trains and taking turns on you DAILY until it takes (and probably even after 👀), then so be it.

lol... you lit a fuckin' fire with this ask, my friend. hot!!

"The Window" (141/Reader)

You awoke to the soft tinkling noise of his belt and zipper, rattling at the edge of your bed. Your captain, John Price, was answering his call of duty, and within moments, you knew he would slip his fat, flaccid cock between your legs and allow your warmth to make him harden within you. He preferred it this way. First, he would rub you with it, heavy and smooth, smearing your wetness all over his skin. Then, with a singular talent, he would somehow stuff his soft, lolling head into your hole, feeding himself into you gently, letting your body take him in on its own as your pussy pulsed for him, and he would rub your clit absent-mindedly, comforting himself with your swollen lips, sighing raggedly as you covered him up. Once he was hard - and fuck, he was impossibly hard - he would fuck you through your blinding pleasure, his girth giving you burst after burst of hot, searing bliss.

He wasn’t your boyfriend - none of them were - but the members of your task force, the 141, had all agreed to be the father of your child. It had started when Captain Price first saw your appointment on the team calendar. You’d meant to post it privately, but you had failed to do so. He came to you right away, his face full of worry,

“Wha’s goin’ on, Spar? Goin’ to the main base hospital… Wha’s all this about?”

So, you’d told him, a little bashfully, that you were trying to get pregnant. You’d be turning 28 this fall, and you wanted to be a mom, sooner rather than later. Every few weeks, you were shipped off to some too-cold or too-hot locale, getting shot at and flash-banged. There wasn’t really time to find a date, much less convince them that you would make a good mother. The last time you tried to use Tinder, one guy had called you ‘Rambo’ and blocked you, so it wasn’t going well.

“I’ll go with you, little bird. Sounds important.”

“You don’t need to do that, Captain. I’m sure I can take out a loan for it…” You thought out loud, remembering the pamphlet and all of its cost breakdowns for IVF treatments.

“A loan? Last time I checked, love, it was free,” he chuckled.

“Free when you have someone who’d be willing to give it to you, sir,” you challenged him with your confidence, trying not to be ashamed, even of your ‘Rambo’ nickname.

“Sparrow,” he raised his voice and nearly shouted your callsign incredulously in the small mess hall where he’d found you, “There’s no bloody way you don’t have someone willing.”

“Wha’s goin’ on, Cap?” Gaz poked his head in behind the door.

“Nothing,” you tried to stop the literal landslide of embarrassment that was happening to you.

“She wants to have a baby,” Price told him, smiling a bit as your cheeks turned pink.

“A baby?” Gaz commented with no small amount of surprise.

“Who wants a baby?” Simon yelled out from the hallway before opening the door wider and scooting around Gaz to join into the conversation.

“A bairn!?” Soap barged in, slamming the door all the way open and forcing Gaz to tumble into the kitchen.

So, the whole team knew in a matter of moments, but Price kept his word. He drove you to the hospital for your appointment and asked more questions to the doctor than you did. Unfortunately, he heard all of the strictest rules and took them to heart. No cigarettes, no caffeine, plenty of rest and… plenty of exposure to male ejaculate.

There had been a meeting, of which you were not a part, between Price and the other men in your task force, and they had come to a conclusion: they would put a baby in you. It was their singular mission. A bit of back and forth had occurred when you found out their plan.

“Is there… we dinnae want to pressure you, lass, but,” Soap looked around at Ghost, Gaz, and Price before settling back on you, “Are there any of us you wouldnae like to be the father? We willnae take offense.”

“No! I’d be happy to have any of you… I mean… But, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this if you don’t want to,” you could feel the heat of your shame rising in your cheeks, and you knew you were as red as a lobster. You heard a bit of laughter at your comment and feared the worst. But then, Gaz explained,

“I’m afraid all of us very much want to, Sparrow.”

He had even palmed his growing cock for emphasis.

But, it had to be fair, you decided. There should be a schedule; no favorites. And for the first month, there was. Soap was your Monday, Ghost was Tuesday, Gaz was Thursday, and Price was Friday. But then Price had a meeting and so Soap was Friday, and Price was Saturday. That meant Ghost was Monday. You were in training on Tuesday, so Gaz was Wednesday, but Soap couldn’t do Thursday or Friday because he had to go in for his annual review. So, he joined Gaz on Wednesday, stepping in right after him as if you were a pretty little mailbox and the boys had come to drop off their packages.

When the weekly schedule fell apart, you hung a big calendar in your quarters, and they’d pencil themselves in. That was fine until you had been shipped out to Aqtabi. You’d tried to keep it up while you were in the field, remembering what day was which, but the truth was that sometimes you had no idea if it was morning or night. Was that the sun or a flare?

And sometimes it didn’t matter. Something would happen on a mission, and Price would crawl beneath your scratchy woolen sheet, searching for the comfort of your arms, not saying a word, not even asking you if it was alright, but just taking you there in the cold night of the desert, filling you up and keeping his cock sheathed in you, safe and sound.

And sometimes you needed them, too. Waiting on exfil, huddled together in the pouring rain beneath a sad tarp, you’d crawled into Gaz’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you in a cradle, using his big chest as your pillow. You’d dozed, exhausted, and he’d rubbed himself against you through your clothes, coaxing you to pull down your pants so he could empty himself into your womb, quick and filthy. You remembered how it felt when his come had soaked through your panties as you sat next to him in the helicopter, letting him hold your hand.

You felt a little guilty that you weren’t exactly hoping for a child during those first few months. You were enjoying their affections, no matter how platonic they may have felt.

It didn’t stay that way, though. Soap was the worst offender. When he fucked you, he wanted to spend most of his time eating you out, sucking on your clit with his mouth like a hungry dog, soaking himself in your scent and your flavor before finally mounting you, crawling over your body like the hound that he was, dipping his cock into you and beating your core like a drum. He’d stare into your eyes when he could manage it, and he’d slipped up one day and told you he loved you. That you were his girl, his wee bonnie lass, and that he’d raise the bairn with you, even if it was Black like Gaz, tall like Ghost, or had Price’s big nose. It’d be his and yours. He’d be the daddy you wanted him to be, he promised.

Then, you’d had to deal with Gaz. He’d made dinner reservations at a restaurant near base while he had your legs held up to your chest, helping you wait the twenty suggested minutes for his “lads” to “soak in”. Told you he was just hungry, but he had also happened to buy you a nice dress, and he’d driven you in his sporty little Beamer, bright red and clean as a whistle. He’d fucked you after dinner, sneaking in a double feature, which was expressly against the rules. Told you he couldn’t help himself, and he said he’d been thinking about you all weekend, cock in hand.

Ghost was like his namesake, haunting you all over the place. He found you in the locker room, and decided to fuck you standing up, sweaty from your sparring match. He’d washed you off in the shower, and he’d taken you in there, too, after coaxing you to make him hard again by sucking him off. Ghost would slink by you in the reference room, stalking you through the bookshelves, and dragging you to the storage closet to fuck you on all fours on the floor, maps and looseleaf pamphlets about Russian spy camps under your rosy red knees. He got vocal that night, cramped with his huge body in that tiny closet, telling you what a good girl you were for him, how you fit his fuckin’ cock so perfect, how he’d never want anyone else, how it felt so good to fill your body up with his load.

Then, there was your captain. At first, you weren’t sure he was truly a willing participant. He seemed to avoid you unless he was on the schedule. He didn’t cut in line, and if you were on the couch or in the kitchen with one of the boys, he’d leave you be, smiling at you a bit before grabbing his tea and escaping back to his office. But, then you realized the truth: John Price wanted to put a baby inside of you more than anyone else, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure it happened.

“Hey, little bird,” John’s finger pet the side of your cheek as you woke, feeling him pull down your pink silk panties so he could start to warm you up, “I’m your Sunday.”

“Mm,” you rubbed the sleep out of your eye and opened up your legs for him, giving him full access to your body on instinct at this point, “John, we gave up on the schedule. You can come whenever you want. Or, you can stop.”

“Can’t stop,” he kissed your mouth as he leaned over you, and you tasted peppermint and tobacco mixing together with something heady and lustful, “We’re in the window.”

Ah. The Window. All of the boys talked about The Window and when it was coming up next. They’d all downloaded trackers on their phones, watching you like birds of prey for when you ordered a box of tampons, checking with you to see when you were off the rag. And then, you’d be “in the window” of ovulation. Their best chance at succeeding at this mission.

They would fuck you at any time of the month, and Soap and Price would even fuck you through your period, having read in some magazine that there was a small chance of success. But, being in The Window was like covering yourself in honey in the middle of a cave in spring and waking up all the bears inside it. Fertile ground, ripe for the taking.

“Mm, fuck,” you keened. John had two fingers in you now, pressing on your soft spots and stretching your hole. You wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, which he moaned into.

“Feel good, Spar? You want to make me hard, pretty bird?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking up at him with desperate eyes, “Yeah, I do. Please, John…”

He slipped himself in, half-hard already, and you felt the body of it slide into your core. It was soft, and you liked to squeeze it with your muscles, feeling him writhe inside of you when you did, reveling in his pleasure. He sat back on his heels to let you play with him fully, watching you grind your hips on him as he massaged your clit to its full, swollen height. He was in no rush, and he spoke to you casually.

“Has Kyle been in this weekend?”

“No, it was Soap,” you tried to remember, “And then Ghost, and then Soap again.”

Price chuckled warmly,

“That boy wants a baby so badly.”

You smiled with him, agreeing,

“He does. He interrupted Gaz on Thursday and asked him when he’d be done!”

Price laughed with you then, his eyes gleaming and crinkling at the edges,

“Oh, Christ. He’d be a good one. They’d all be good.”

You watched his mood shift. There was something solemn about it, and you wanted to chase it away. You rubbed your hand along his furry belly, locking your ankles around his hips and shamelessly rocking your hips to fit more of him into you. You confessed,

“You’d be good.”

His eyes found yours again and he stilled, wondering out loud,

“D’you think so, Sparrow?”

“I know so.”

“Can I tell you a secret, little bird?” He whispered, lowering himself into position and stuffing his hard length even deeper inside of you, making you worry just a bit if he could hurt you with that thing.

You nodded, kissing his huge Adam’s apple in his throat and nuzzling through his beard. He told you the whole truth as he pounded himself into you without mercy,

“Sometimes, I wish he would be mine. I wish…” He almost stopped, but he kept going, like a raft in the stream, too caught in the current to go back to the shore, “I wish you could be mine, and then I could rub lotion on your belly when you got big. And I could cook for you when you got tired, and I could read to you, even when he was still inside of you, and I know he could hear my voice. I wish, sometimes, that when it happens, that I’d be the first to know. That you’d tell me first, because you knew it was mine, because you’d want him to be mine.”

You were stunned, and you were coming, and the two were very separate events. As your pussy pulsed and tried to milk him of his come, making you dizzy and almost sick with pleasure, you were shocked by his admission. You grabbed his face and made him look you in your eyes,

“John…” You panted, coming down from your first high of many with Price, “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“I didn’t either,” he smiled, but the corners didn’t reach his eyes.

When he fucked you this morning, you had no idea how good it could feel, but he showed you. He rutted into you, desperately, like some sort of beast, unable to stop himself. It was as if he would fuck himself bloody in you if he had to, and you wanted to take him as best you could. You felt him finally start to come, and he plugged you up with his thickness, shoving himself as deep as he would go, sealing you off and keeping you warm and elevated.

He kept his cock in you, gasping for breath and petting the hair out of your face. He kissed you, cheeks and chin and neck, all the way down to your breasts where he suckled from your nipples, almost dreamlike in the way he was touching you, fully covered in you the entire time.

“Sleep, birdie,” he nuzzled your neck and continued to lave his tongue over your breasts, “I’ll wake you when I’m hard again.”

Part 2

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mysteria157 · 9 months ago

Text

Unsteady Ground

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Light angst, just fluffy but scarred Post-Shibuya Nanami

WC: ~2.1k

Summary:

Nanami gets more than what he bargained for with the kind receptionist who checks him in for his weekly appointments.

Notes: Hello! Been thinking about Nanami if he was still injured but survived the Shibuya Incident and this is just one of many little thoughts I've had. Hoping to write more soon!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune @awenise

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter | Come Say Hi!

What was he thinking?

Nanami Kento prides himself on his self-awareness—a man who can map out his strengths and weaknesses like well-worn territories on a battle-scarred map. He’s the epitome of controlled courage, a figure who could march into dank, shadow-filled alleys and pungent sewage tunnels, his fear compressed into a hard knot beneath his ribs, as he methodically tracked and exorcised curses with cold efficiency.

So this is new. It has to be.

What was he thinking?

He was thinking about you.

You, who he first saw through a haze of discomfort at the reception desk during his initial therapy appointment. His eye patch itched against his brow, a constant reminder of Dagon’s domain and the razor-sharp fish-like teeth that sunk into his flesh. The burns on his left side stretched tight beneath layers of Mederma a constant, throbbing presence. He felt raw, exposed, his mind a blender of pain and misery, haunted by the taunting echoes of a patchwork curse that still clawed at the edges of his dreams.

But then, there was you.

You, whose voice flowed like silk when you asked for his name and date of birth to check him in. Your words, a gentle current, seemed to wash away the stark clinical atmosphere. With each subtle movement, a hint of vanilla across your desk, wrapping him in its warmth, coaxing his tense shoulders away from his ears.

You, who lingered in his mind long after each encounter. Your daily ask about how he was doing, though met with the same stoic response, became a small ritual he found himself anticipating. Your presence had become a soothing balm to his frayed nerves, somehow making the hard recovery of his life a little more bearable.

You, whose eyes lit up many weeks later as you spoke of the Christmas market in town, your voice brimming with excitement about the newly opened rink.

In that moment, driven by an unfamiliar, overwhelming desire—no, need—to simply fan the flames of whatever was licking to life in his chest, he spoke without thinking. The words tumbled out, clumsy and hopeful. His face flushed, his usually composed demeanor cracking.

“We could go together this weekend if you would like?”

Stupid. Absolutely, unequivocally stupid.

Nanami Kento, what were you thinking?

A soft smile played at the corners of your mouth, your head tilted ever so slightly, curls dancing in a nonexistent wind as you regarded him with warmth and a lifted brow that made his breath catch.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nanami Kento?” Playful and tinged with an essence of hope that made his heart race even faster.

“I—“ He was thinking of you. Only you. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

The cool air of the ice rink slaps Nanami’s face with every person that skates past him, his heart racing with a mix of dread and shame that pulses through his veins. A group of teenagers glides by effortlessly, their showboating twirls and spins threatening to pull his mouth into a sneer. They’re no doubt mocking him as he stands stock still against the glass wall, gloved hands pressed flat as if he could suction himself in place.

He’s endured years of Gojo's incessant, annoying taunts and needless provocations. He’s faced cursed spirits without flinching, coolly efficient even as his watch ticked down the final minutes before six. But now, the prospect of revealing his complete and utter lack of skating ability to you terrifies him more than any supernatural threat.

He had every opportunity to reveal his incompetence. He did nothing as you both laced up your skates. Smiled softly as he listened to you chat animatedly about your favorite winter activities. Kept his spine taut as you adjusted his eye patch, fingers trailing feather light along his jaw. Even as you pulled him by the hand towards the rink, his legs wobbling like a newly born doe on the thin blades, he could only clench his jaw and follow.

He encouraged you to go without him, to warm up while he adjusted to the weight of strangers’ gaze when they saw him for the first time. Even with so much practice, the discomfort, even after all this time, burns more fiercely than Jogo's searing touch ever did.

But he knows he can’t delay the inevitable. Soon, you’ll return, expectant and eager, and he’ll be exposed. The memory of asking you on this date flashes through his mind—a moment of uncharacteristic impulsivity born from longing and evolutionary competition. He’d watched the parade of men filing in for their appointments, each one a potential rival. The brunette who shows up at 3 PM, with his easy smile and effortless charm, was particularly concerning. So Nanami can’t fail now.

Steeling himself, he takes a tentative step. The blades slide across the ice, taking him further than what he intended. His knees lock, his back sways unsteadily, and his arms flail as he tries to find balance.

Somehow, he can hear Haibara laughing from the grave. He can almost see his old friend, red-faced and doubled over, teasing him without shame for never accepting that impromptu hockey game invitation their first year.

“I can do this,” he whispers to himself, desperately praying to whoever will listen for sudden knowledge. He takes another step, a short glide up with his left foot and it’s no good. His legs wobble dangerously, arms windmilling as he grasps for the wall and throws every curse known to heaven and hell, fogging the glass with his acidic words.

The teenagers zoom by again, and he swears one of them snickers, skating backward with infuriating ease as they disappear from view.

“Kento?” Your voice, honeyed with concern, reaches him from behind. It’s too sweet, too kind to quell the embarrassment that runs in rivulets down his back. You appear in the peripheral of his right eye, your lips pinched behind your teeth as you stop in front to take him in. “You’ve never skated before, have you?”

For a fleeting moment, Nanami considers trying again, hoping to slip and knock himself unconscious to escape this mortifying situation.

He feels heat rise to his cheeks. “I may have overestimated my abilities,” he admits, his dry tone a thin cover over his embarrassment as he clings to the rink’s walls like a lifeline.

To his relief, your face softens with understanding rather than judgment. You skate backward with effortless grace, hands outstretched towards him. ��Trust me?”

He hesitates, eyeing your hands. Part of him wants to refuse, to flail his way off the rink so he can take off these atrocious skates and maintain some semblance of dignity. But a larger part, the part that has been drawn to you from the start, longs to brush his hands against yours.

Your cream-colored gloves intertwine with his. “Just glide. Follow my feet,” you encourage, slowly skating backward and guiding him forward.

You flow like water on the ice, fluid and sure as if you’re a professional, without a hint of hesitation. He’s mildly green with envy because he’s a stark contrast. Legs stubbornly locked, feet shuffling rather than gliding. He tries to focus on the mechanics of skating, on keeping his balance, but he finds his attention irresistibly drawn to you.

You’ve taken off your winter coat, and a soft navy sweater hugs your curves, accentuating your form. He’s seen it beneath crisp blouses and pencil skirts. Your leggings outline powerful thighs that bunch with your movements, yielding strength and practice. The overhead lights catch the small puffs of air that ghost from your mouth as you guide him patiently across the ice, no sound reaching his ears because he’s not paying attention.

Your hair, a glorious bundle of curls, cascades from beneath a navy beanie, framing your warm face and kissing your cheeks. Small gold hoops in your ears catch the light with each graceful motion, their gentle swaying hypnotizing Nanami, drawing him further into your orbit and away from reality.

He’s lost in admiring you—the kindness in your eyes, the way your presence makes him feel both vulnerable and safe even as his life has been so tragically altered.

It’s in this moment of distraction, his heart full and unguarded, that his skates and your teachings betray him. As you attempt a gentle turn, his feet slip, zipping awkwardly to the side.

“Kento!”

You grip his hands tightly, urging him to regain his footing, but he’s caught in a comical dance, legs churning in place as he fights to stay upright.

“Wait! Kento just—okay, just try to come to a stop. A stop, Kento, don’t—” He attempts to halt, overcompensating with force.

“For fucks sake—!” He grunts, feet flying out from under him, launching up as if he’s a cartoon villain slipping on a banana peel, bucking him off the ice and taking you with him as you both come crashing down onto the unforgiving cold ground.

Somehow, he doesn’t hit his head, but his back and ass scream from the impact. At least you were able to use him to cushion your blow, and you lay across his chest, face buried in his wool coat.

Seconds stretch into eternity as you both lie there, panting. Nanami fixes his gaze on the ceiling, half-hoping the harsh glare of the overhead lights will burn the cornea of his remaining eye and blind him completely from this whole ordeal.

“Well,” you murmur, voice muffled against his coat, “should we get up?”

“No…no, I quite like it down here,” Nanami responds, deadpan delivery masking the absolute sincerity of his words.

You pull your head from his chest to look down at him. Nanami’s eyes meet yours, staring, unblinking, mortified, and wishing the ground could liquefy and then freeze over, trapping him underneath.

With impeccable timing and bone-dry delivery, you quip, “I guess for a first date, this was a good way to break the ice.”

Nanami blinks, processing your words. The absurdity of the situation—the terrible pun, your matter-of-fact delivery, the undignified sprawl of limbs—hits Nanami all at once. A laugh bubbles from deep in his chest, croaking through years of cobwebs as it grows into a full-bodied guffaw.

The sound of his laughter surprises him as much as it does you. Your eyes and his one widen in delight at this rare display of uninhibited joy and soon you’re both laughing, the sound echoing across the rink.

The scarred side of his mouth twinges uncomfortably, but he doesn’t care, he can’t. His laughter, rich and unbridled, hiccups from slightly chapped and upturned lips.

As your laughter subsides, Nanami realizes he can’t remember the last time he laughed like this—free, unguarded, genuinely happy. He takes in the sight of you: your beanie askew, a cascade of messy curls tumbling over one shoulder; ice shavings glistening as they melt on your cheek; your lip gloss slightly smeared, yet still inviting.

Your eyes meet his, and for the millionth time in only a few short weeks of knowing you, his heart skips a beat. With a gentleness, you reach up to adjust his eye patch—a gesture so intimate, so accepting of all that he is, that Nanami hopes it becomes a habit.

He watches, breath hitching, as you shift, sliding yourself up his chest with a soft grunt of effort. For a moment, you hover there, your faces inches apart. Nanami can feel the warmth of your breath, senses the unasked question of what you want to do. And whatever his face conveys, must be enough for a smile that outshines the gleam of the ice around you to blossom on your face as you close the distance.

The press of your glossy lips against his still catches Nanami by surprise. For a heartbeat, he’s frozen, overwhelmed by the sensation. But only a second later, he melts and softens into you. One hand finds the small of your back, the other sliding against your cheek, drawing you closer as he returns the kiss and opens something within him that he knows you’ve found the key to.

For a second, it washes away the pain of his past, the destruction that he took part in, the friends he’s lost along the way, and he feels okay. If only for a moment, and maybe being with you can help the wounds in his chest and along his left side heal over time.

The ice is cold beneath him, his dignity is probably bruised along with his back and ass, but in this moment, given a second chance at life, hopefully with you, he feels wonderfully, perfectly alive.

Thanks for reading!!

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sturnmeovr · 7 months ago

Note

Can you do an imagine where you and Matt get a dog? Pls & thank u!!

Puppy Love - Matt Sturniolo

Pairings - bf!Matt x gf!You Summary - After moving in together, Matt decides it time to become dog parents 🥰🐶 W/c - 989 Warnings - Just some fluff! Strong language! A/n - Thank you for requesting!! My requests are always open! Checks out my masterlist to see my most recent pieces!! Dividers are not mine, credits due to all original owners!

The summer air wisped through the sunroof of the car as you looked over at your boyfriend, smiling at him. The two of you were on the way to the local animal shelter to pick up your very own puppy together. Matt initially wanted to go through a breeder but you decided against it. Adopt, don’t shop, right?

It didn’t matter who you got your new puppy from, as long as he or she was healthy, you didn’t care and honestly Matt didn’t either. He just wanted to see you happy. After months of sharing cute posts of puppies on your social media accounts and squealing every time you seen a person walking their dog, he finally decided it was time to take the next step in your relationship. Co-parenting a dog together was the perfect idea, his only worry was his busy schedule. Since you moved in a couple months ago, he figured it’d be a lot easier on the both of you to take on the responsibility now rather than before like you wanted. You had been begging for the last couple months, so you were thrilled that your longtime boyfriend was finally caving, giving you what you wanted.

Matt usually wasn’t the type to say ‘no’ to you but he was very logical at the same time, so when he initially said no, his heart broke a little bit. He loved spoiling you in any way he could, but he knew you guys weren’t ready to take on a big responsibility, such as a puppy, at that time. It took a lot of work - house training, behavioral training, socializing, and daily walks. Don’t forget how expensive it was. Matt loved to spoil the ones he loved, and he had no doubt you guys would spend an unruly amount of time, and money, in the pet stores as soon as the new addition was added to your family.

“I’m so excited,” you nearly shout. Ever since Matt surprised you with the plans earlier in the week, the anticipation had been building up inside of you. Your smile was still spread ear to ear, like it had been since you got in the car.

“Calm down,” he laughs, “you’re gonna have a heart attack before we get there.”

“I can’t help it. My heart is pounding,” you exclaim, “feel,” taking his hand and placing it on your chest. Matt’s eyes bounce from you, to your chest, and back to the road. An amused look is plastered on his face as he raises his eyebrows in response.

You can feel your heart in your stomach as you spot the animal shelter down the street. The enthusiasm boiling in your gut as he pulls in the parking lot. Matt clears his throat, “now, remember we already picked him out,” he tells you, pulling into an empty spot and putting his car in park. You smile at the thought of him knowing you so well. He knew damn well you’d spent all day at the animal shelter, leaving with more than one animal, probably crying at the fact you couldn’t bring them all home. He knew there was an 80% chance that would happen, so to avoid any tears, he made sure to contact the shelter beforehand. He set up an appointment by himself, picking out a male pup that wasn’t weaned from his mother yet. It gave just enough time to get everything ready for the new addition to the family, surprising you when he told you earlier this week.

Nick and Chris still lived in the same house as you guys still and they were just as excited. They couldn’t wait to meet their new nephew. You sigh, “you’re sure I can’t go in to look?”

He playfully snaps his head towards you, “absolutely positive. One dog, that’s all we’re getting for right now baby,” he tells you while leaning over the center console to press a kiss to your nose. You whine and stick out your bottom lip. He pecks at it, “stay here. I’m gonna go get him,” before getting out of the car and disappearing to the building.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the glass double doors Matt went through. A few minutes later he reappears, this time with a small pup cuddled into his chest. A whisper-like gasp falls from your lips as your eyes meet his and a big smile stretches across his lips as he makes his way to the car.

You follow his movements, not being able to look away. Matt opens the car door, still smiling big as fuck. Your face contorts and the puppy takes over your whole body, “gimme, gimme!”

The sound of your voice makes the puppy raise his head and look at you. Matt raises his eyebrows, obviously surprised at the pups action, “looks like somebody already recognizes his momma’s voice, don’t you?” he coos before handing your first born child to you.

You carefully scoop your new baby boy into your arm, holding your breath the whole time like he was a real newborn baby. He looks up at you and whines, placing his paws on your chest, and bringing his face to yours. Your heart melts immediately as he attacks you with kisses, “you’re so cute. Yes, you are,” you pull out your baby voice, earning a chuckle from Matt.

Looking over at him, he has his phone out snapping pictures of the cute moment. “I’m literally gonna cry. He’s so fucking cute, Matt. What are we naming him?” you ask looking between your boyfriend and the puppy he gifted you.

‘I like Barnaby,” he suggests, somewhat hoping you’d agree.

“Barnaby,” you repeat.” You look down at your pup, studying his face for a moment, “yea. Barnaby fits him,” before looking at Matt with the biggest smile, matching the one he’s been sporting since he walked out of the animal shelter.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you

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lawva-girl · 11 months ago

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Historically.. We don't mix. pt. 2

Law x fem!Reader, College AU

Pt. 1

Notes: Sorry i took forever, i kinda forgot i even posted this... HERES PT 2!!! let me know about any ponderances or possibly any errors... i dont have a beta reader or anything.. ALSO i could not come up with a nickname for reader..... so in the chat rooms i put "Y:" for "You". PLEASE tell me suggestions i will go back and fix it :D

WC: 2526

Back at the dorm that Law and Bepo shared, there was no chatter. Law was simply laying in bed with his laptop open to 5 tabs, one for each of the classes he was taking. He was taking all history classes this semester, since his counselor told him to. He would definitely miss the bio information but he did like history. Scrolling through each class, he breezed through all of the syllabus quizzes. Once he felt satisfied, it was onto checking his email, with one catching his attention.

“DIRE!! MAKE AN APPOINTMENT OR TEXT ME ITS EMERGENT!” The email title felt like a scam but he knew it was not, in fact it was a daily burden. The man who had sent it, his counselor and adoptive father, always communicated like this. After opening the email, he found himself irritated again, Cora had only wanted to remind him that classes start today.

“How would I not know?” Law muttered to himself. Reading through the email, then deciding he had been too neglectful of the man Law opened up their chat.

L: I know it was the first day, I got to my first two classes on time. C: Good!!! I miss you! <3 C: Any new friends?! C: Do you like your professors?? I hand picked them :D L: Hand picked? You are making me socialize on purpose. C: Not true! Nico Robin is the smartest! She already had her masters by the time most have an associates! L: The classes are fine. Bepo made a friend, her name is Perona. C: Oh! Mihawk’s kid! Good to know she’s here! Is his step-daughter here too? Maybe y/n? L: Yes. C: Oh! I heard she’s similar to you! Maybe you two can be friends or something? L: How long did you have to think to come up with this plan of yours? C: No idea what you are talking about…. L: Cora. C: … C: Anyways, have you gotten all the textbooks you need? C: I want to make sure you find them all! C: It's my job, you know. L: I still have two more classes to go to tomorrow, but i’ll be fine. L: Thanks. C: Anything for you! We should meet for lunch soon! I can make you salmon rice balls! Like when you were still a baby… remember? You loved my cooking! L: I did not. You should not be in a kitchen alone, Ill meet you on friday at 11. L: Don’t start until i'm there. Please. C: Okay !!!!! C: I'll see you then law! C: Cant wait ! C: Sleep tight <3<3<3

Law closed his laptop, relaxing his shoulders. He glanced over and Bepo was already asleep. He kicked off his blanket and got up to go to the bathroom. After he finished his business, washing his hands like any good bio major, he strolled to the microwave area. He had only wanted water but he saw the picture of him holding a letter, standing next to Cora. Staring at it, he wondered why the giant had wanted him to socialize so much. It’s not like he never sees human faces, or stays inside all day everyday. He just liked being alone when he could, no one to ask him stupid questions.

After finishing his water, Law went back to bed.

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

The two went through the rest of the week, meeting each other an embarrassing amount of times. Neither one had any reason to talk to the other, so they didn’t. Until Wednesday rolled around, and they were back in Nico Robin’s class.

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

“Someone has it out for me. I know it for sure” You wrote in your journal, along with the date and class name. Looking at Law, like you had these past two days, made you realize it more.

“I have pissed off whatever god actually exists and they want me to repent. There is no way that all four of my classes are naturally shared with Trafalgar.” You finish scribbling away in your journal, just in time.

“Okay, pass forward the paper I handed out to you. This was just a fun assignment to see what areas we, as a class, are most interested in.” She spoke smoothly, with an even tone. It was almost like she didn’t care, or like she had done this 20 times.

You heard some of your classmates groan and while you agreed, you thought it was inappropriate to voice that. Tapping a pen on the paper of your journal idly, you waited for more instructions. Even though your classmates weren't raised well, your father had done a fine job with you. You were nice, respectful, studious. Sure you are shy but it's not like it mattered.

Why speak to people and risk being embarrassed if they don’t want to talk to you?

“Okay, as I said before this class is based in groups and communication. Please tell one person about what you studied for this assignment.” Robin had said before sitting at her desk with a book in hand.

Suddenly everyone was talking but you and one other person.

“My assignment is on the Five years war. I chose it because of a coin flip, I found the sources in the library database.” Already you were irritated. Another interaction with the man who had no manners.

“Hello. That is how you start a conversation, who raised you? Anyways, my assignment is on the First Crusade. I chose it because it was the first war I thought of-” “Really? The first? Liar.” He interrupted you, of course a man like him would.

You squinted at him, before responding with “Not lying, I was watching a documentary on the pope a day before class, which made me think of all the holy wars. It's not polite to interrupt people.”

“Okay. I think we have discussed enough.” “Fine.” You scoffed at him mentally, before turning back to face the front of the room.

“Okay now, I want someone to tell me about their partner's work! This is worth participation, as a friendly reminder.” She smiled eerily

You did not raise your hand, in fact you looked away. If you were called on you would end up having to lie, since stupid Trafalgar didn’t tell you anything about his assignment.

“Okay, randomly generated, we will have Mr. Trafalgar, Mr. Reyes, and Ms. Churchill. In that order please.” “My partner researched the First Crusade, she told me that she learned about the context of the war. Specifically Pope Urban the second’s motivations for launching the crusade, who was mainly following the lead of the Byzantine emperor. She also learned about the cost of the war, not only economically but also what it did for the Pope’s approval rating.” Incredible. He pulled all that from his ass? Wasn’t he a double major? How long ago did he even learn that? How was he able to say it so confidently? He is actually smart?! Hold on, he could’ve seen the same documentary you did and just so happened to remember important stuff. But even then, he didn’t even hesitate, he was so confident, even with a professor like Nico Robin.

“Very good, point earned. Mr. Reyes?”

As he relaxed into his chair, you couldn’t help but stare. His hair was sticking out, a bit unruly from his beanie. It was white with weird black spots on it, maybe a statement about faux animal fur? Could he be vegetarian or something? Maybe he likes to hunt? His sideburns went right into his weird facial hair, “should be shaved” was scribbled into your journal, along with “spots?” and of course “T is smart?”. You saw his black hair under his beanie and thought of your father, who would never slouch like the man in front of you was.

“Okay good to hear. This wraps up our class for today, I’ll see you all on monday.”

You started gathering your things, excited to go back to Perona. She promised she would have your favorite food ready for you as soon as your class ended. It was a little weird, but you two always were close.

“Are you always the last to leave?” The sudden voice pulled you from your thoughts, and made you drop your pencil case. No pencils escaped but the case clunked right under whoever had just shocked you. Law, with no expression on his face, immediately thought of his giant adoptive father; who was extremely clumsy.

“No. Are you stalking me? I feel like the campus police or a trusted adult should know about this.” You looked up at him, not reaching for your case at all.

“I’m not, somehow, we have the exact same class schedule. With the exception of my online class.” “That's crazy buddy… Will you grab my case?”

“You can’t get it yourself?” He scoffed and folded his arms.

“I think the reason why I dropped it should be the one to get it for me, no?” You thought he looked childish, folding his arms like he just got told to go to his room.

“Fine.” He reached down, grabbing the case and placing it on your desk, “even though you were closer to the floor… I'm sorry.” He looked away as he said it. Once again you thought he was childish.

You found yourself staring again. This time you noticed his hands, the word ‘death’ tattooed on his fingers, and the heart on the back of his hand. Shocked to say the least.

“Holy shit.” Huh? You said that outloud? Maybe you weren’t nice.

You looked up to see Law’s face, somewhere between shock and disgust.

“Oh uh.. I meant, holy shit your tattoos are cool. They look like they hurt.” Maybe you saved it, you really did mean it in admiration.

“It was painful, but worth it. Bearable at times.” He looked at his hand and held it up between the two of you. Shocked that he held it up for display, you raised your eyebrows. Staring at the tattoo, you were about to reach out and hold his hand closer so you could get a better look at the line work. Then your thoughts were interrupted.

“I know we aren’t on the best terms, but you heard the professor. I think it would be a good idea to bite the bullet and partner up.” He said it so matter-of-factly you almost agreed without realizing you were lost.

“Huh? Partner?” you blinked up at him. “Of course you weren’t paying attention. The collaborative presentation that you and another student must present on the 18th?” He sounded annoyed, but his face wasn’t telling.

“Yes! Sorry I got lost in my thoughts, we might as well partner up. I don’t have anyone else in mind, so I can stick with you.” You finished packing, finally, and stood up. Swinging your bag onto your back, you held out your hand towards him.

“Okay… What is that for?” He nodded down to your hand.

“Give me your phone. I’ll put my email in. We can make a google slide and share it that way.”

He paused, with a semi frown on his face then gave up. He put his phone in your hand, and watched intently as you typed in something. Then you returned his phone, much to his delight.

“Bye then. Just do 5 slides on the First Crusade or whatever other war the pope has started.” He put both of his hands in his pocket as he casually strolled out, leaving you to the room.

“Hey! We should at least pretend you won't be a dick this whole time! Don’t boss me around!” You realized that you had said that just a bit too loud for the circumstances. Maybe you weren’t nice.

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

Y: Okay! I just left class, do you have my salmon nigiri? Y: You won't believe how good I was today. P: WHST P: who are you? P: The y/n i know would never ever say that. P: Yes i do have it ready :) Y: I had to partner up with Him :/ Y: The strength Y: Also he has finger tattoos? Y: What the fuck. P: You didn’t see them before? Y: Sir traffy has been through it P: I wonder if hes like some ex-gang member? P: That is such a gang member thing to get tattooed P: Why aren’t you responding? P: Helllllooooooo P: y/n P: y/n P: ….

“Rona! You are literally crazy. I was walking over here, that's why I wasn’t responding.” You closed the door behind you, making sure to lock it.

“Anyways! I’ve never seen you have such a strong reaction! To a guy no less, did he like to recite everything in the declaration of independence?” Perona called out to you while you entered and took off your shoes.

You walked over to the kitchen, where she wasdoing some dishes. Tossing your bag on the couch, then taking a seat at the bar that was connected to the kitchen. “If he did that I would’ve proposed on the spot… He just is kinda smart? It’s freaky! One second he’s brushing me off and not wanting to talk to me at all, the next he's explaining the cause of the First Crusade? Well… Kinda.” Perona turned with two plates in hand, and took a seat next to you. She placed the plate of sushi in front of you, “Well honestly i'm not surprised… Bepo says he is always studying.”

“You talk about him with Bepo? Perona…” you made a disappointed face at her as you pulled your plate closer to you. “Noooo it’s all kosher! Bepo just offers up info about everyone he knows. I think he just doesn’t have a filter or whatever.”

“Yeah…” you took a piece of nigiri and dipped it, then ate it. As you chewed and swallowed you thought of your dad, “Do you think your dad would come visit us here?”

“Hmmm only if your dad forced him to. I can picture it now ‘don’t you miss our girls?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Then lets go! You pay and ill bring the beer!’ ‘beer isn’t allowed on a plane shanks’ or something like that…” Perona tried her best but didn’t really get the overall attitude of your dads. You decided not to comment and just take another bite.

“Do I get to know why you asked?” Perona said, food in her mouth.

“Traffy, as you call him, has hair as dark as Mihawk’s. It made me think of him today…”

“Sigmund Frued would have a lot to say to you right now.” “No he wouldn't, he’s dead.”

“Not for long…” “What the fuck?” You both burst out in laughter at the same time, something you had only ever done with your sister.

After dinner it was off to bed, except you weren’t actually sleeping. Your laptop was open on your lap, on the google slides page. The document was created, named, and shared to Traffy. It wasn’t the most well-mannered thing, but you decided that nicknames meant you’re friends. Your sister desperately wanted you to have friends, and this would make her think you had them. You didn’t like the deception, if you could call it that, but it's not like you were gonna go out and get real friends.

You started typing away, filling out 3 slides with information and pictures before deciding to get actual sleep.

#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #law x y/n #reader insert #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece #law #college AU

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casketscratch · 3 months ago

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That appointment might have been the biggest mistake of my life in recent years. I can't stop crying.

I have been doing nothing but trying to "get better." Two years ago I was drinking constantly and doing so many drugs that I would be high for days. Functionally high, show up to work and seem normal high, but still. I was in and out of the ER for drinking while taking medication. I was in the psych ward for homicidal ideation because I had a plan to go murder one of my traffickers, and checked myself into the hospital instead. I was debilitated by flashbacks no matter how I tried to numb them out or push them down. I would black out, find myself miles from home in the middle of the night, and have to use my GPS to find my way back. Or I'd black out and realize I was in my bathtub cutting my wrists open, trying to prove I was real.

Scarier, I would black out and suddenly "wake up" trying to jump off the balcony of a 29th storey balcony; one leg over, too drunk to coordinate myself, levels of, for me, terrifying. Some part of me was so suicidal, and another part of me did not want to die and would not let it happen. I have always had this emotional throughline of, anything but that.

I don't drink anymore. I don't do many drugs other than smoking nicotine, which I've cut back on significantly, and vaping weed, which, yeah, is daily when things are rough. But I don't have access to any other medication other than 1mg of ativan per day and 3mg of Prazosin. I'm so much more stable, and present, and I'm helping around the house every day now and cooking dinner at least once a week (something I could not do at all before because it was such a trigger for me). I'm not well enough to work, but I'm better than I was before. I have little pockets of routine and stability I've built.

And then this psychiatrist today.

He wants to know why I've been seeing a psychologist for four years and made "no progress." He asked why and how I've been seeing someone for this long and am still having flashbacks and PTSD symptoms. He recommended a 6-month CBT program at the military base because "they have actual psychologists there for this," and EMDR, and then I'll be better. He wanted to know, in detail, what my actual treatment plan is, and implied that he thinks I'm full of shit about DID, that my therapist is full of shit for continuing to see me, and then prescribed me Effexor.

And when I told him, after answering his questions about treatment and everything, that I've been on Effexor before, when I was 13 or 14, and it made me psychotic, he went well, they don't usually give it to children. And I was like, I know, but that standard was put into practice years after I was on it, and I am telling you that I was on it once before and it did nothing but hurt me. So he suggested we just start low, take 8 weeks to work up to the full dose instead of the standard 4, and it should be fine.

He doesn't like me taking Ativan because "that's addictive" despite it being the only thing I'm on that works, and the reason why I wanted to ask about anti-anxiety medication or alternatives in the first place. He does want to up the Prazosin, which, fine by me I guess.

The instant I pushed back or tried to be like, no, really, he started talking about how I cannot still be this "bad" and "not better yet" after four years of therapy over something "that happened when you were 2." And I again tried to push back, and said something like, no, it started when I was two, but I have just told you that I was trafficked by these people for at least a decade, and the abuse ended when I was *29.* He just kind of did not care to hear me, told me I needed EMDR again, and gave me a bunch of forms to sign so he can contact my therapist.

I'm fucking devastated. And furious. The thing about how I just "haven't gotten over" something that happened "all those years ago already" and to just... go find some CBT (again) and do some EMDR (not actually recommended for me) and that my therapist is conning me somehow, lmao?

Like. I don't talk about him much here, but my therapist loses money seeing me -- he had to pay a special provincial license fee that cost him thousands to continue seeing me when I moved, because he seems to actually give a fuck about me and is invested in my getting better. Maybe, once upon a time, I would have wondered about him, but not after he's spent a year losing money on me and has had to jump through a lot of professional hoops to ensure he can. He did not want to abandon me at my worst, and the only reason i survived the nightmare I was in when all my symptoms were at their worst was because he saw me through it. Don't fucking tell me the only person who's been in my corner this entire time is lying to me.

I don't know. I am yet to meet a psychiatrist who isn't just belittling or dismissive of either dissociation in general or... abuse in general, I guess, is what this is. I don't trust this guy, I never want to see him again, and I am too scared to try Effexor again to take this prescription. It fucks up EVERYONE in my family -- my sister, my mom, my aunt, me, all been on it, and it sends all of us into really bad places.

I'm just so fucking pissed off and angry that he would not listen. All I wanted was maybe a mood stabilizer or something medical and in-a-file and standardized that can help my brain the same way L-theanine and litres of green tea seems to, but no. Just dismissal and condescension and being scolded for not "getting over" everything. For not "being better yet."

There's this extra layer here where I feel like, at this point, I know better than this guy does about what helps people like me. I could point to the literature and the studies. No, EDMR is not helpful for cases like mine; yes, there have been some things written about it. The three-phase (stage?) model for trauma recovery means stabilization comes first, and we are so not there yet, and that's just basic knowledge. Why would he suggest that?! What if someone said yes and we ended up way more destabilized than ever before? Who the fuck hears "I was trafficked for 20 years and am struggling to cope with that" and goes aha, 6 weeks of CBT will fix you. Since it has "measurable outcomes."

It just, once again, feels like getting rushed the fuck out of a doctor's office here the instant something complicated comes up. (He did also get so fucking weird about the trans thing and I'm bitter enough to feel like that was part of it, too.)

So, okay, fuck this, fuck this city, fuck this city's doctors.

I think I'm well within my rights to not take this fucking prescription, even if parts are clamouring to because "you're supposed to do what doctors tell you." I'm so scared it will fuck everything up again.

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the-wip-project · 2 years ago

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SloMo WriNo: Finding the Perfect Time to Write

Imagine your perfect writing setting. It’s peaceful and perfect, and the words flow easily.

But reality intrudes. Those perfect moments are hard to find, and, when you find them it can be too much pressure, so the words won’t come. Other times, when the inspiration is strong, and words are ready to pour out of you, you have no time or space to write.

It seems impossible to find both the time and inspiration to write at the same time!

That’s because it is.

To have a consistent long term writing practice, you cannot rely on perfect moments or bursts of inspiration.

I’m going to discuss inspiration in a later post, for now let’s focus on finding the time to write, in less than perfect times and places.

For me, I used to write whenever I could, just squeezing writing time whenever. And I was pretty inconsistent in how much I wrote, and didn’t get much finished.

When I decided I wanted to write a novel I knew I needed to get more organized.

I happen to be something of a morning person, and wake up about half an hour before I actually need to get up. I was in the habit of using that time to lie in bed reading, checking messages, scrolling socials etc. It seemed like a no-brainer to optimize that morning time to write.

However, when I tried, I found that I couldn’t stick with it for more than a couple of days at a time. I was frequently breaking my concentration, and easily distracted. And it felt like a grind. Eventually I realized that I simply did not want to write immediately after waking up. (and my ADHD brain will sabotage any attempt to force myself.) See, even though I’m a morning person, it doesn’t mean that I’m ready to do heavy mental lifting when I first awake. Time for quiet, more passive activities are an important part of me transitioning from sleep to full wakefulness.

But wait! Here I am at 6:30 am writing this! Happily! On a Sunday no less! Because I figured out a work around. Another look at my schedule showed me that I had another block of seemingly unused time. The later evenings after my kids are in bed. I’d dismissed that time period because I’m generally too brain tired to do anything productive. The solution was to use that time for sleeping (boring I know) enabling me to wake earlier, keep my gradual wake up routine, and still have time to write.

Strangely enough, knowing that I’m going to write in the morning is incentivising for me, and I find that I simply don’t want to stay up as late anymore. Because I have a fun reason (yes, writing is fun!) to go to sleep.

Now this little story might be helpful for you if you’d like to write first thing in the morning. If the idea feels like torture, then perhaps not.

But the idea is, assess your daily time, and cut something that isn’t refreshing or valuable. And possibly jiggle your schedule around so that you can open up a block of writing time at a time that is good for you.

For me that was the mindless doom scrolling or binge watching that I tend to indulge in after 10pm.

Some times that might work for you (besides the obvious first thing in the morning or last thing before bed): Commute time, Arriving at work or school or other daily appointments early, lunch or other break times in your day, time while you’re waiting. Remember, you’re not looking for massive blocks of time. Fifteen minutes will do. Thirty minutes would be amazing.

So examine your schedule and see where you can block out a regular time to write.

Once you’ve found a few options, try them out. Do you feel good, or harried? Tired or refreshed? If it doesn’t feel right, is there another task you can swap into the time slot to open up a different spot in your schedule?

Which leads us to the question: does this mean I need to write every single day?

Absolutely not. Take rest days when you need them. Either a scheduled day or two each week, or just a floating flex day taken when needed.

Focus on establishing a habit of writing for at least fifteen minutes 5-6 days a week. (And don’t worry about word counts too much while you’re figuring this out.)

Once you create a habit, the words will come!

— Maree

SloMo Wrino Introduction

Setting Word Count Goals

the WIP Project discord

#slomowrino #finding time to write #writing advice

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g0atmama · 7 months ago

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Vent? Rant? Idk. It's long.

Moving and having to set your own goddamn house like you don't live there is a bitch if I could afford it I'd just get a damn hotel until the move. Bullshit that hotels cost two weeks of my pay. I'm not gonna be doing mad king this year I guess. Guess I'll only log on for the special rp event I'm doing over there. God damn. Here I'm just trying to relax after working overnight and they hit me with this.

When I'm already out of antidepressants.

Like I've been out for. Six months? I don't know. Long time. I'm supposed to take them daily but I had three months worth and I started forgetting so they lasted six. And now I have maybe a week?

But I thought we'd be moving next week. So I was trying to just wait until the move to get a prescription up there. But I guess not. So I need to schedule a doctor's appointment for... checks notes. Uh who the hell knows because I'm working every day they're open for the next two weeks.

I'm just tired. I'm tired of my life. I'm tired of being yelled at when I express any sort of emotion. Maybe I should just take the Buspar that shuts down my emotions. Maybe it's better if I don't feel anything at all.

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heresthelocallaundromat · 6 months ago

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12.5.2024

i have missed a few days worth of entries, and i promise to make up for it here in a longer passage. i often fall into these cycles of having the motivation to write my daily thoughts, or at the very least, and more commonly, my fears and then struggling for weeks after to even open my canine teeth mouth.

26 is marked with dogearred cigarette boxes, filling a growling stomach up with cheap instant coffee and pints of warmed milk in between bowls of oatmeal and price-reduced vegetables. it is hot drinks to replace the presence of a comfort meal. it is getting pissed off at the cashier making a joke about not spending money on the chips i placed in front of her, the ones i have been waiting to eat once my brain stopped telling me to starve. i almost told her to cancel the check-out, i did not want them anymore. now they sit untouched in the cupboard.

it is coughing in the cold, the exact moment it feels as if it might snow. hands curled into jacket sleeves, an ember leaves a tiny burn hole in the brown fabric. it is marked by a new found loneliness; one where i lose people more often than i meet them. it is marked with boundaries and stay-right-here's; pleadings of please-don't-go's. it is up and down, and up, and down again. it is a lack of understanding over the why and the how, yet knowing i am the constant problem amongst the issues i am drowning myself in. i overthink. that's what my mother said to me recently, that i overthink and overreact, i need to let things be, let them fall into place. sniffling on the phone, i tell her, mom, i am getting scared again.

she says i need an appointment, to talk to someone. she tells everyone else around me that i need to keep taking my meds, but the meds have made everything dark again. the nightlight i always had plugged-in is not working no matter how many times i flip the switch off and on, off and on, off and on. my body is entirely uncomfortable and a slight touch sends off the shock-waves, the burning that almost feels electric.

the first time i ever noticed that electric shock was when my first boyfriend continuously rubbed two fingers on my shoulder during an assembly about drunk driving. in that moment, he felt more like the actual car accident, the one i need to keep from happening. something felt so wrong in that moment, and the only thing i could think of was the fact that i was 14 years old and a 18 year old thought it was okay to rub my shoulder possessively. i was not a stuffed rabbit, i was not a teddy bear to keep comfort. i was a child. i was a child! i broke up with him a week later by handing him a note that said i am sorry, but i need it all to end, to stop. he stared at me across the cafeteria until he graduated a year later. sometimes, he still tries to follow my social media and that sick feeling comes back and i can still feel his dirty fingers on my shoulder, making my spine ache.

my spine always aches, my stomach is tender. my skin crawls and the gooseflesh appears too often. my fingers are turning purple and i still need one last drag of a cigarette. sometimes, i still feel like that 14 year old. the one who hid in the bathroom with a pencil sharpener and her dad's old flannel shirt against the thigh after. i still feel so ugly, a disgusting subhuman creature who should be alone, left in a cave in the mountains of british columbia, maybe thrown into the old gold rush mine shaft near her childhood home. i am a ghost town forgotten.

lately, i have stopped going by the name rory, somehow it now feels tainted and like the name is not my own. somewhere in between, i started getting called annie again and it makes me feel 15 years old in a good way. annie is the 26 year old version of my birth name, and lorelei was always the rory after 21 years old and getting the fuck out of tacoma; out of washington. somehow, i have rediscovered myself and maybe it is simply me off the medications again; letting myself float, float, float.

i feel in colors again. the butter-left-out-on-the-counter yellow, the dark brown of an old blood stain, the blue fading into a soft black of the sky at 12:51 a.m., the pinks of the cheeks after smiling too long, the seafoam green orb eyes, orange embers, how the water of a bathtub looks in candle light- slightly like the ripe apricots i'd bite into as a child. the black of the first sip of coffee in the early morning. the green of the flower i smoke, the plant that calms my wild fire heart. soothes the canary in my chest-and-breast shaped bird cage, the ribs acting as the bars keeping her safe from flying too high. it is the christmas lights, the reds and blues and yellow, and greens reflecting on an anxious face.

i've started watching movies again; my usual escape. in between cigarettes, i lose myself in cinematic screen grabs: laying in the grass as the sun sets on the golf course; getting korean corn dogs in the mariners stadium; the first sip of peppermint hot chocolate and whip cream stuck on the tip of a red nose; the sky filling with smoke from an american spirit, all hazy at dusk; friends laughing as i sit on the sidewalk right outside my apartment; breaking open fresh challah at the farmer's market in olympia. sinking deep into the hot bath all steaming, the salts haven't quite melted into the suds and bubbles; a small cup of chamomile and honey and milk in the same cup used since college; naked on the futon, the itchy quilt beneath leaving it's marks. dancing at a small show, smoking outside with strangers i will never meet again; the old nightgown against my sweaty skin, my toes in the tips of my shoes. handwritten letters and gentle reminders; drawings and songs sent, playlists and idealism; in fevered manic movements, too much wine and dancing in the living room in my underwear; cry as i sing karaoke to my cats and no one else.

sometimes, things start feeling okay, and sure, i am plenty scared of when it all dips and wanes and there are maybe great big changes i have not had a moment to prepare for, but things are still okay. i am loved. it is something i have to remind myself, particularly lately, particularly in the moments of silence when i wish someone would clear their throat most- but it is true.

i am loved.

audio version below.

#diary #SoundCloud

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lolosrollercoaster · 2 years ago

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so - back on an I need to write this out to process it and I guess im sharing it mood.

So ... been looking for a job since April, took a bit of a break in May but was supposed to be back in it by now but I'm just. exhausted. the depression has come back full force and I'm now lk desperate and financially stressed af.

So anyways, all of these months I kept just mass applying when I could get myself to with the full resume I had - no changes. no tailoring it to an application etc. and then I decided to apply again to this one place in sept - even though last year when I applied I hadn't had much luck, but this time around there was a position very similar to my last one - and I was lk fuck it I gotta do it.

in the mean time I've kinda been going to a psychiatrist since lk august to be evaluated bc I think I might also have ADHD. But anyways she thinks that I need to leave my house, see ppl and rejoin life in order to see if my problems are from lack of doing anything and so my mental health is fucked bc im lk stuck at home feeling useless or if its because of something else - lk idk something is inherently wrong with me lol. I think she'd shit on me if I said that out loud to her. she's kinda cool - lk intimidating cool but not in a bad way. she's just such a no nonsense person and she'll read you lk you're an open book you cant get much past her.

my mom had to go in to share what she'd seen happening with me (aka lk the outsiders perspective of what changes can be seen in me since Ive been mentally fucked) and she was so nervous ahahaha and then in the end she was lk wait do I want an appointment with her for myself? my mom is a whole character. if only y'all knew.

anyways back to the job thing, so she told me to apply to anything, I just needed to get a routine going again. so I applied to a bunch of things. and then I got a message about a grocery store job on indeed and tried to reply but I couldn't help but feel a bit sad bc I thought man I finally got a grown up job and now I'm back to my OG job roots, back to the grocery store life. And honestly I think a lot of my extended family has fucked me up on that bc they're so snobbish about these jobs. ANYWAYS so I didnt hear anything back after I answered them 🤷🏻‍♀️ so I thought ok . and around that time I had stopped applying.

fast forward to the past 2 weeks - my dog got sick, I got sick - we had the worst flu, I've had the worst period of the last few years, ive been out of it, my mom has been out of it, my dog has been out of it - also right - my grandmas death etc. (truly Oct is kinda dead to me now. so yay on that 😭 one less thing to look forward to which is sad when you didn't have much left) but yeah so then I see this email late Friday evening - which shit I usually check my email daily but this time I had forgotten bc id been sick - it was an email from Wednesday from that job I'd applied in sept that was a lot lk the one I'd left earlier in the year. and they wanted to interview me this week - Wednesday or Thursday. I managed to reply as soon as I saw it. and then I got a confirmation that Monday for it - it was an in person interview today.

I tried to prep for it as best as I could while physically dying a bit - bc lk I said been experiencing the period from hell. And yknow what that means? I'm so fucking emotionally wrecked atm- so anyways my dad drove me I somehow managed to be there, I was early, dressed professionally and everything - had even practiced some answers ... and then idk man - I think I fucked it up. They asked follow ups or clarifications of my answers but by the end I wasn't sure how to feel except man definitely didn't get that. they told me they'd make a decision by next week and let me know either way.

and the worse or weirdest part is I've spent the past few days since I found out about it trying to downplay it - lk its fine, you don't need this, if it's for you then it will be for you and if it isn't then it isn't. but I felt so sad walking out - lk idk I just got that feeling that they didn't like me. so now I'm all sad - even if all I've felt recently is that idgaf anymore and I'm ok with just dying - bc yup I got that passive suic*dal ideation down to a routine now. anyways - if anyone has any words of encouragement I'll take them but yeah I am sad .... and I have little to nothing left to give. it's been draining to say the least. and the worst part is I know my parents are just going to be encouraging and even my psychiatrist -she told me that I would get a job and it wouldn't matter who and if for some reason I didn't get something I should just think of it "well they weren't capable of seeing how great you are and what an asset you'd be to their team and that's fine because that just means it is not the job for you" but it still makes me sad know? I have trouble letting go of things and I'm way too hard on myself so it's just - A LOT.

anyways thats my life update.

#unemployment #sad thoughts

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dailyrandomwriter · 2 years ago

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Day 433

The advantage I’m finding in having a journal that I know I constantly open and will use is that I have less anxiety around when my parents message me. Which is a fascinating thing to write, because it implies that I’ve always known that if you message me with a request, I will forget that request the moment I close my messenger.

If I think I can get away with it, and I see the request in my locked screen, I will purposely not look at my messages so it still reads as unread and I can look at it later.

However, I have a journal, which I take with me whenever I can. So when requests came to me from my mother when she left on her trip, I wrote it down in my journal. It was also a reminder on how much I dislike writing complex things on my phone. Even though I’ve gotten better at typing on my phone, writing out complex instructions like, call to book booster shots, and don’t forget to book your check up, and then writing two separate dates for those things on my phone than it was just writing it down on paper.

I especially didn’t want to take up the poor receptionist’s time who was being flooded with phone calls while we were trying to figure out a date for my check up. It was much easier to just scribble it down into my daily log and then migrate that information into my future log.

And at some point, when the monthly logs where those appointments will happen, are actually set up, then I can migrate it into the proper monthly logs. Which I know sounds like duplicating work, but frankly I’m less likely to forget after writing it out two or three times. Especially something that happens that far into the future.

It’s actually better for me, because monthly logs are set up a week or so before the month happens, so it means I’ll write it out again closer to when the appointment or event in question actually occurs. LIke, I completely forgot about the dentist appointment I booked six months ago, and only remembered because it had to be transcribed into this month’s monthly log.

So yes, journals for the win!

#journals #having a second brain

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kooksbunnnn · 2 years ago

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Lost cause? 2: she knows me?

Previous chapter

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook× Female!Reader

Genre: Established relationship/ marriage, angst, heartbreak, INFIDELITY. Panic attacks(TRIGGER WARNING). Pregnancy (do not read if this content triggers you) also, 18+,

Summary: You always wondered, how would your life turn out to be if you and Jungkook had a baby? So, when you finally conceive and decide to tell your husband, that you are pregnant, you didn't expect him to drop this bomb on you. You never would've thought that the surprise you planned would end up in agonized tears because of the shock your husband brings you.

Words: 3.9k

Please read the authors note at the end of the chapter. hehe~

••••••

It was all very awkward and heart-breaking, the explanations to both your parents, seeing your parents cry in front of you, seeing his dad bow his head out of shame, his mom hugging your sobbing body with tears in her eyes, no one could change anything so nobody tried to change the decision you both took.

No divorce. That is what you both decided on the balcony that morning, but it's easier said than done. A series of drunken calls by him, panic calls by you, and crying sessions that included you both tiredly sleeping. Not forgetting the almost deadly morning sickness and cramps.

The love and need you felt for Jungkook was not going anywhere, no matter how hard you tried, becoming so frustrating that you started thinking of divorce. But the idea was immediately turned down by your therapist considering the pregnancy.

Yes, therapist. Never did you think you would visit one of these anytime soon. You lived separately, away from his physical self, but every little detail of the baby's growth was a part of his daily routine. You texted him about what the doctor told you in your appointments, and he told you to take care, and you always hung up asking him to do the same.

It was his baby, too, so you thought he should know every detail about the growth of his blood, too, not realizing how you just needed some way to check on him. You didn't want to but you couldn't help it.

It was like a routine for every 2 weeks, a call every 14 days, and a text from him 5 to 6 times in the 24 hours to check up on your health. When he received the first ultrasound, he spent the whole evening making a bunch of hard and soft copies of the picture of his baby. So small, like a bean, making his heart ache with love.

He wanted to be there. See it himself. Feel your belly. Kiss it. But he couldn't.

The agony of not seeing each other continued for three and a half months when suddenly you felt a pain in your lower abdomen, making you panic.

The therapist warned you of the consequences of the stress and the tears on the baby, the doctor did said that too but you couldn't physically control yourself from crying or giving in to the need to hear his voice whenever you cried, thinking not doing so might turn your health worse hence doing the same to the baby.

Your mom stirred in her sleep at your yelp, alarming her, immediately getting up she took a look at you, seeing the tears in your eyes she ran up to your father and told him to take you to the hospital. Your father rushed from the guestroom he had been sleeping in since your mom insisted you sleep with her.

Rushing to the hospital, your pain didn't grow but didn't stop either. When the doctor started to diagnose the reason for the pain, you only prayed that the baby was fine. Tears in your eyes, you wished the circumstances were different, with your husband holding your hand while the doctor diagnosed you.

But you were alone even with your mother standing beside you with concerned eyes.

Soon, you got to know that it was because of the sleeping posture and the ligament pain, which was basically your body making space for the baby. With the advice of sleeping in a better posture with a pillow to tuck under your leg and some prescriptions, you open the door to exit the room.

Thats when you see him.

After three and a half months which felt like years, you lost your composure, especially when he came your way sprinting with long legs, fuzzy hair, bags under his eyes, mismatched clothing, you guess he was in a rush so he must have picked a random shirt over the joggers considering he sleeps shirtless.

Also, were those different slippers?

You saw how his eyes take you in and gloss up, making your vision blurry with tears, too. The hurt and anger of him cheating was still there, but the hormones of the pregnancy were messing with your mind, and you wanted to kick yourself for being happy at seeing him.

"You okay? What did the doctor say? Is everything okay? Is she okay?"

He always wanted a girl. The she in his sentence makes your heart squeeze, and you look at your mother with a clenched jaw.

Did she call him and tell him? Or was it your dad?

Sighing guiltily and avoiding your questing glare, she replies the questions that Jungkook asked, him still looking at you with concern while your mom explained everything.

"Y/N I-"

"Please go, Jungkook. Thank you so much for coming here, but I need you to go." You say sniffing, looking away from the concerned man in front of you.

The silence between you, Jungkook, and your parents was defeaning, broken by you moving past him, wiping the tears that flowed automatically on seeing him after so long.

Happy or sad, you have no idea. Relieved to be around him? For a second, maybe. You got mad at your parents and then later found out that your father had told Jungkook about your abdominal pain, but then he said he just couldn't see you in so much agony, and he just called him without anither thought.

You never wanted to see your father cry, but he did, and you felt helpless. You made your parents helpless.

How did it all become so painful?

The next two months went terribly since you stopped contacting him, stopped replying to his texts, occasionally texting him not more than three words. The fact that you got some kind of assurity through the texts was somewhere in the back of your head, but you didn't want to admit. No matter what. You can't. Thus, your anxiety is rising.

When he reread the text, you last sent him four days ago. 'The baby is okay.' he felt his heart squeeze up, the thought of you assuming him texting for only the baby hurt him. He wanted to know about you too. He felt disgusted by the fact that he did this to you, the love of his life.

The last time you saw him made you realize that seeing him in person would not change the fact that he cheated on you, broke your heart even though you loved him, and you still love him. Fuck why do you still love him. Your heart and mind aches from all the heart break and your back aches feom lying down so much and the hormones making you mad makes you wanna punch Jungkook and then hug him, feel his warmth all around you.

The sudden urge to take a walk in the garden downstairs to clear your head washes over you. Even though the doctor told you that you're not supposed to move much. You still try to get up when-

"Ow! Fuck, fine I won't! I am much more responsible than you, little one."

You tell your baby as you feel the cramp in your back that makes your head fall back in frustration. The pain and the mood swings make you make an impulsive decision that involves you, your anger, and your phone.

Finding the name in your contacts you click on it and hear the ringer do its job but at the second ring you realize what a big fucking mistake this might turn out to be, so you immediately turn the screen on to hang up but drop the phone on the mattress in the middle of the rushed action.

"Hello?" A deep voice resounds on the mattress, making you freeze. Shit.

You get up slightly to pick up your phone while he tries to get a reply from your side. The contact image smiling at you mocks your irritated face. Making you much more infuriated.

"Y/N?" a whisper.

"Yes, it's me, Jungkook!" You speak up a bit rudely, answering his question, the other side falling silent with a hint of traffic in the background. He must be getting back from work.

"Are you oka-"

"Why? Why did you do this? I loved you. I never did anything bad, so why do I have so many heartbreaks. It hurts! My heart and my head hurt!"

Silence.

"Answer me! You have no clue how much I wanna hate you, Jungkook. You dont know how is it to have all these fucking mood swings killing me, I dont have you. I cant expect these hormones to calm themselves on their own cause you're not around me?!"

By the end of the rant, you start sobbing, your body shaking with the number of hiccups you're having. Jungkook always helped you with your moody episodes and cramps during your periods. He was always there.

You just hope you dont wake up your sleeping dad, who took his blood pressure pills. You told him to sleep, but now you dont know if he could, considering your wails. Your mom out for maternity clothes shopping since moving and working in these normal ones was a pain in the ass.

"I could be there, I wanna be there. I want you to know how much I regret my mistake just please...baby, let me in. Please." He whispers in the phone, clearly on the verge of crying.

You sniff on your side, eyes shut tightly, giving him the cue to go on.

"I would never, ever force you to t-take me back or f-feel something for me. Just let me be there when you need me. I won't talk or anything just please.."

Taking the device off speaker you furiously bring the phone to your ears. "You really think its easy, huh? Well I dont think it would be if- ah!"

You suddenly feel a tiny pulse like sensation on your tummy, and you freeze, dropping your phone. You think it's one of the pains you felt earlier, but this doesn't hurt. it's like a flutter. You gasp again as you feel it again, eyes widening with joy as you absentmindedly pick your phone up to tell your husband that your baby just kicked!

The feeling of the baby moving inside you made your heart swell double in size, and you call out his name in the device, but your smile falls, seeing that he hung up.

He must've reached home.

Home. The visual of the shared apartment makes you sigh, reality hitting hard. Oh, how you wish you could be in your house, with him, without the suffocating memories of you crying in the kitchen.

Your dad rushes in the bedroom, making you flinch as he slams the door open.

"Y/N! Are you okay? Why are you crying? Did something happen? Did Jungkook say something? Did you call? Why are you-"

"The baby kicked dad-"

You gasp as it kicked once again, and your father laughs with surprised-teary eyes along with you.

"Oh my god, I don't know what it is that makes the little one kick, but I am gonna try finding it out. Help me figure it out, dad!" You say giggling as your eyes widen with happiness as the baby kicks again, but then you realize that the kick it gives you again is at the term dad. Fuck.

Okay, the kid is genuinely testing your patience and emotional waters.

"It's dad." You hear a whisper, and your heart stops beating for a second. When you turn your head towards the door when you see Jungkook and your mom.

"It's me. She knows me. She knows who I am." He keeps whispering talking about the baby as he enters the room and slowly crouches down at the edge of your bed, staring at you, baby bump with tears in his eyes,

Hearing you sniff he looks up and sees his wife, the mother of his child, the love of his life, not even facing towards him during this moment and Jungkook couldnt help but grab the white duvet covering you, his hands itching to wipe your tears.

Y/N. Look at me, please."

You clench your jaw, tears slipping out of your eyes. When he whispers your name again, you shut your eyes frustrated. This is what you both wanted, right? This is what you've been trying for 1 year, right? Then why does it have to be so painful when you finally get it?

"Y/N?"

You snap your head, looking at him. Eyes glossy, face red and dark circles, a description suitable for the both of you. His face softens at your questioning stare, and he whsipers a barely audible answer,

"You didn't answer when I called your name numerous times, so I thought you were in pain. I was near Taehyung's apartment when you stopped responding, so I came here straightaway.."

"Taehyung's?" You ask.

At your question, he wipes the sweat over his upper lip, diverting his gaze towards his lap. "Yea, he found out about- what I-I did, when I went to his place, all the hyungs know." He sniffs. Maybe that's the reason why Namjoon Jin and Yoongi tried calling you at least 6 times the week after you found out. Maybe that was the reason hobi visited your workplace, thinking you would be there. Maybe that's why the soulmates sent flowers to your workplace.

You thought they just knew about your pregnancy, hence the flowers, calls, and visits.

"I've been crashing there, in his guest bedroom. I just dont want to go to our place. it's not a home without you." He whispers.

You look at him in silence, how he doesnt make eye contact, staring at his lap, as he fiddles with his fingers, you look up at your parents who have been there listening to the full interaction with worry in their eyes.

They were mad at Jungkook at first but knowing you needed him during this time the most, they couldnt tell you to seperate or move on and since he wronged you they couldn't call him over to comfort you. It was very painful and confusing for both families.

Looking at your parents, you motion with your eyes to give you a moment of privacy.

You give them a small sad smile before they turn to leave the room.

"Jungkook?"

He looks up, responding to your voice with a sniff. His nose was red, and his cheeks were all wet.

"This is getting insufferable. To be honest, I wish all this never happened, but it did. You or me, we cant change that, but the fact that I cant leave you, cant get a divorce, cant control my emotions, cant eat the pancakes you made when I crave them at 4 in the morning so much!" Your voice starts quivering due to the tears and anger inside you.

"It's killing me." You shake your head frustrated.

"Also, why can't I stop thinking about my therapist giving me hope about us? Why did it make me feel relief? Why do I want to give in?!" You look at him again, his eyes already on you.

"Why did you have to ruin everything, Jungkook? This was our dream. Our dream! I want to forget you so bad, wanna forget how you broke my heart and oh! how I wanna change the things in which they are, but I can't Jungkook! I can't! I'm stuck with you, your memories, your smell, the comfort you gave me, everything! Fuck I dont want to give in to the hope. I cant do that to myself!"

You clutch your head, and he hesitantly gets up after a moment of heavy silence, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. You look up at him, still clutching your head with one hand while the other drops in your lap, brushing slightly against your baby bump.

He takes his hand and places it on top of your resting one. He thought you would push him away, but you didn't. He looks up and removes your other hand from your head and puts it over the already interlocked hands in your lap.

You feel weird thinking how you should pull your hand back, get away from him but at this moment nothing felt better, you needed him as your comfort and he understood that.

He looks into your glassy eyes and sniffs, his nose scrunching. You now notice how chapped his lips are and how his eyes are red, a little bit of stubble on his face, piercings gone, and a dull skin tone.

Your heart beats with anxiety, wanting to give in the hope but also wanting to create boundaries for yourself at the same time. Your heart was betraying you at the moment you wanted it to be strong.

You should be strong, you owed yourself that! But why does this comfort make you want to live in it, swim in it, so that it can wash away all your problems?

"I-I will always be there, Y/N. Whatever you decide. I will leave immediately if you want a divorce, I swear I will never show you my face, ever again, if that makes you move on and forget me. But if you want, even for a second to try again? I will do anything to make things right. I won't come close. I won't touch you. I will stay somewhere else. You can be here with your mom and dad. Whatever you want, but if even for a moment, e-even as a forbidden thought, you think of trying? Please tell me?" He pleads, holding your hand, without moving his eyes from yours, as if afraid of losing the hope for the both of you.

You inhale and exhale as an exercise your first therapist told you to do when anxious. His hands feel so warm you can't help but grab it, nails digging in his skin to make yourself make a decision. His face softens at your gesture.

"Y/N I am very-"

"Wait."

You hold his hand and put it gently on your slightly 5 month swollen baby belly. He widens his eyes as after two seconds, you feel the baby kick again. This time without someone saying the word 'dad'.

After five months, your baby felt the touch of the only person you could ever dream of having a family with. Jungkook, your husband, the love of your life. When you both stare at your belly, smiling, for a moment, you let go, you stop your compulsive mind to stop thinking of the consequences. You let yourself feel his hands. The warmth. The comfort, all seeping in.

When you look up at him, you see that his eyes are wide, his chin quivering and his nose getting redder by the second, a sob leaving his mouth as you start crying too. The distance and the problems between you both getting overpowered by the feeling of fullness. The betrayal is not a part of your thoughts for the first time, only for a moment, but your mind felt happy.

The situation and the hand on your belly makes your mind feel a sad Déjà vu of the night he told you about what he did.

"She knows me. She knows her dad!" his voice gets you out of the memory you went in, and you see his face brightening up.

He sobs, and you feel your heart clench at this sight. Can things ever get better? Do you even see a future without tears along with Jungkook? Is your therapist right? Do you really think you could work this out? What if this is all due to hormones and you regret it later? But didn't the doctor and the therapist both say that you need the most loved person in your life to give you comfort and calm you down in anxious episodes? But what if he himself is the reason for the anxiety?

These emotions are fucking with your head and you need to talk to the therapist yourself. Maybe with him this time.

"Y/N?"

He pats the back of your hand with his, hesitating for a second, afraid of your reaction to him holding your hand. Seeing that you didnt flinch, he continued,

"You zoned out."

You look at him blankly, his confused expressions mirroring your emotions. You feel your throat close up at the thought of saying you wanna try. Try again. You feel like you are betraying yourself. Letting your past depressed self down, but why dont you feel your heart clogging? Why are his red yet warm, familiar eyes so comforting?

You certainly can not forget what he did. But would trying again be bad? Would it turn out to be disastrous? Do you really think that the cliché about couples therapy might be true? Can the issues between two people be solved by a stranger? Would you even be able to talk openly about your relationship?

Looking at your dazed and blurry eyes, he takes one of his hands and pets your hair, slightly stroking it, understanding that you need him right now. He caresses your hair and untangles the knots you created while clutching your head.

"I'm here. I'm always here with you. No matter what you choose, hm?"

Your mind finally focuses on what you want, and you slightly sit up, tightening your hold on his hand. He knows it's now or never. You're gonna choose, and he is gonna have to make peace with whatever your choice is. If it means never showing you his face again, he will take it. But if you choose him? Choose to give him another chance? He will do whatever it takes to make things right.

You open your mouth to close it once again, his eyes wide with hope and concern when he sees you squeezing your eyes as if to rip the bandage off.

"Should we give us another chance?" You whispered with a tight grip on his palm as if scared of letting yourself hear the words. Looking up, you ask him again,

"Could we ever be us again?" You asked in a hushed whisper with a tear falling out of your eye. He felt his heart beat faster at you, giving him another chance. This time, he will make sure you dont regret this decision. He wanted to hug you so bad, wanted to kiss your tears away, and hold you while promising the second chance would be a decision he would make you happy that you did.

Instead, respecting your boundaries, he just squeezes your hand and says with a small-teary smile.

"We would be better than before at this, Y/N. I promise."

••••••••••

Next chapter series masterlist main masterlist

Authors note: hie! I am back with another chapter, and I know it's been a long time since I updated, but I've been going through a lot of changes in my life right now and I really wanted to upload this last week, but I was busy with my internship interview preperation and assignments and exams.

Also, it's fiction, so let's just be calm because I love every BTS member, too, just like the readers of this series. Anyone who wishes to be a part of Lost Cause taglist, please message me or send me an ask! I love you all! Hehe~ plea

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blossomwritesthings · 2 years ago

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𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader's childhood cat suddenly gets diagnosed with cancer, and she has to make a big decision about what to do. this fanfic includes heavy topics like: pet euthanasia, extreme loss/grief, depression, the problems with pet healthcare, and more. there will be some humor/fluff placed throughout, and also smut somewhere along the way. :))

18+ warnings: masterbation. sexual fantasies. kinda perv behavior but not really??

word count: 3.0k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: i seriously contemplated on whether or not I should post this chapter, after all of the events of this week. I want to make sure that I am cautious and sensitive to everyone during such a painful time. but in the end, I decided to post this since perhaps, it might help a few of you out there who are dealing with so many emotions right now. I cried while I was writing this last week because it brought up so many feelings that I felt when I had to put down my dog almost 2 years ago. so if this chapter make you sad, please don't feel bad about that or think that you're alone, because I swear that you're not. next week's chapter will be a little bit on the lighter side of things (but just barely). take care of yourselves, okay?? take everything one day at a time. allow yourself to feel a plethora of things, or nothing at all. everyone is different and processes things at a variety of paces. this isn't a race, this is life. and as always, my asks/dms are always open if you just need to vent to a listening ear. I love you guys, and... stay strong, yeah?? ❤️

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

You decided to schedule the appointment on a Sunday afternoon, that way you’d be off of work. Since the night you had spent with Dr. Lee in the waiting room after hours three weeks before, he had continually checked up on you throughout the weeks by way of numerous phone calls. And it felt like, with each one that passed, they seemed to grow longer, as the two of you talked about everything and nothing - all in hopes of trying to get your mind off of the imminent date.

From your daily phone calls, you had gleaned some valuable information from Dr. Lee - like the fact that he had been single since he opened up the clinic three years prior since it was pretty hard to keep up a long-term relationship when he was so busy with clients and managing a successful business.

You didn’t even know how the topic of romantic adventures came up in your daily wellness calls, but all at once, you were confiding in Dr. Lee about your most recent boyfriend which had broken up with back in university. But you didn’t go into too much detail about the relationship, and you skimmed over the… bad parts of it all.

You alluded to your horrible breakup with your ex during the conversation, and you briefly mentioned your ex’s awful treatment of you at the very end of the relationship - but you never crossed the line of professionalism and confessed to all the bitterness you still held for your ex. No, you didn’t think Dr. Lee needed to know such intimate details about your life. But also, he probably wouldn’t care. After all, the phone calls were only a means to an end…

And besides, no one else in the entire world knew the extent of your old relationship, so you didn’t see any point in telling a random veterinarian about such a dark part of your past.

The calls seemed to help somewhat - if only to take your mind off of the looming date. But then, as soon as Dr. Lee hung up, your thoughts were clouded with the pain of losing Nyx all over again.

Slowly, you were watching her deteriorate. Dr. Lee warned you that things would go downhill quite fast, and fast they did - since Nyx hardly wanted to eat her meals anymore, even when you’d try to coax her with her favorite treat of a fresh sardine. She was incredibly lethargic and because of the weight loss that she experienced from the lack of an appetite, her thinness only caused more pressure to be put on her legs, which was where the cancer was located.

Throughout it all, Dr. Lee did a tremendous job of preparing you for the day - the day that you were expecting to take the place in your mind as the worst moment in your entire life. The two of you planned it so that his schedule was completely free for the procedure. Originally, he told you that he usually doesn't accompany his clients into the euthanization room, and instead leaves it up to the vet techs to take care of the protocol. But without you even having to ask him, he assured you that he’d be with you the entire time - that he’d be the administer of the drug. Because he already knew, that having anyone else there with you wouldn’t help, not in the least bit. Sure, Yongbok and Hyunjin and Seungmin were good techs, but nothing could compare to the utterly calming presence that Dr. Lee alluded… with his soft, brown eyes and his slight smile and-

You were thinking about him again- damn it.

Because besides being cluttered with the pain of losing Nyx, your mind was also full of so many thoughts about… him.

And how, ever since that night in the clinic, he had continued to call you by your first name. No honorifics, no pretense. And even though he felt familiar and warm to you, you still felt somewhat uncomfortable to drop the doctor title. You wondered if he thought it was odd, how he was addressing you informally, and yet you were still doing the ‘keep it professional’ bit.

When you were busy working at your desk throughout the day, you found your eyes constantly moving over to the side to check your phone. To see if he had called you.

While you were eating your packed lunch by yourself in your office’s break room, your mind kept replaying the way that it had felt, when he had touched you that night - with those slender fingers and warm palms of his.

When you were lounging on your apartment’s small sofa, watching tv before you went to bed, your thoughts drifted off to the sound of his voice, and the way that he always said your name so delicately.

But perhaps worse of them all, is what you would do late at night, when you lay wide awake wrapped up in your duvet covers in bed. Because instead of thinking about Nyx, your musings drifted off to him, yet again.

And perhaps it had something to do with your exhaustion from the end of the day,

Or the fact that it was so very dark in your bedroom,

But more often than not, your imagination would get the best of you, and all at once, things were turning deeper, dimmer…

Flashes of him, and that smile that he always gave you when he first saw you during a visit, danced across your vision,

As you imagined what he’d look like, staring you down, bright eyes glued to your exposed self.

You dreamed about that pretty, red mouth of his, lips turning kiss-swollen and sticky from your very essence.

You wondered how it’d feel, to have him towering over you, whispering sinful words into your ear with that sly tongue of his, as he pressed you further down into the bedsheets.

And when those thoughts came upon you, you just… couldn’t help yourself.

Hand playing with yourself-

Grazing over pert buds,

Tickling a sensitive waist,

Spreading swollen lips,

Brushing against a throbbing knot,

Pushing past folds and curving inward.

And every time, the only thing that crossed your mind, was him.

Him - and his smell and his voice and his built frame.

In those heated moments of twilight, you only ever made one single sound as you thrashed about between your thick duvet covers…

“Minho.”

The name fell from your bitten-raw lips in whispers, cries, and pleas.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t been with a man in so long,

Or maybe it was because you were a grown woman and so naturally, you were extremely horny most of the time.

But all at once, as you delved into such fantasies late at night, you realized that the attraction to him had always been there.

You had just tried to mask it with honorifics and professionalism since you didn’t want to cross any lines. Since you figured that a man of his stature - of wealth and success - would never stoop so low to date a woman like yourself.

Even still, none of that stopped you.

Stopped your midnight explorations or the way that he seemed to inherently infect your very being with every breath that you took throughout the day.

But eventually, the crest of sadness took over everything again, as the day finally came to a head. To your relief, the weather outside on that Sunday afternoon was bright and sunny. You didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if it had been grey and drizzling.

You stopped just outside of the clinic’s doors, forcing yourself to take a good look at it all, as you held Nyx in her carrier at your side. It’d be the last time that you stepped through these doors with her in hand.

And that’s when the tears started. They silently traced down your cheeks, even as you shuffled through the clinic’s front doors slowly. The bell above your head signaled your arrival, and as if on cue, Jisung and Chan’s heads turned in unison from their computers at the front desk to where you stood at the entrance of the clinic.

In an instant, Jisung was getting out of his chair and flitting over to you. “Hi, Y/N,” he said in a soft voice, offering you a gentle smile. “Hi, Nyx.” He bent down in front of you, peering into the black carrier and cooing at your cat.

“How long is the wait time?” You asked, voice shaky as you clutched a little harder on the handle of the carrier.

Jisung peered up at you then, his big, doe-like brown eyes shining with compassion. “About ten minutes.”

You nodded without saying another word, as you began to make your way over to the front desk to check in for your appointment. The entire time you spoke with Jisung, Chan had been watching the two of you in silence, assessing the atmosphere and displaying a compassionate face.

“Ji said it’s gonna be ten minutes.” Is all you said, as you stood in front of the wooden front desk. You couldn’t meet their eyes anymore, your vision too blurry with tears. And frankly, their pity just made you feel even worse just then.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” Chan began, typing away at his computer. Then he slid over a clipboard and had you sign your name at the end of the document. Signing away on the procedure. Signing away on Nyx’s life. “And… I��m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Me too.” You whispered before you were pulling away from them and taking a seat near the doors to the back of the clinic. Usually, while you waited for your appointment, you’d scroll through social media on your phone or pick up a nearby magazine and peruse the articles.

This time, you just sat there. You sat there in utter despair and silence, before deciding to pull out Nyx from her carrier. She was a little less warm than she had always been, and the thinnest you had ever seen her. Even still, she looked beautiful to you. You pressed your face into her midnight-black fur, taking in the sweet smell of her and nuzzling into her pliable skin.

“I love you so much, girl,” you muttered into her coat, before giving her a few kisses. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you…”

The minutes ticked by slowly after that, as you clutched on protectively to Nyx. As you kissed your childhood best friend. As you fought for the last seconds spent with the single most stable thing in your entire life.

And then, you heard the fateful call of your name ring out across the waiting room. You stood from your chair, muscles moving like they were trapped in a vat of sticky molasses. Your gaze was fixated on the ground at your feet, so you didn’t see who had called your name.

“Right this way,” it was Hyunjin’s angelic-like voice that graced your ears, as you walked through the threshold and into the back hallway of the clinic. You felt his hand land atop your shoulder, his slender fingers gently squeezing there in a soothing gesture.

Then he was leading you through the back hallways, past the examination rooms that you had sat in with Nyx countless times. Finally, he stopped just in front of a door that was painted in a baby-blue color.

“The doctor will be right with you,” Hyunjin began, his tone ghostly-faint and fading away behind you as your eyes locked with the room you were about to be left alone in. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

You didn’t even register the door being shut closed behind you, too focused on the decorations that were placed throughout the room. The walls were painted a sky-blue, with a beautiful stain-glass window in the center of the room. The scene depicted a magnificent sunset, bursting with colors that were burnt cayennes and violets. The room was quite small, but the bright, real flowers placed throughout the area helped to add life to the otherwise depressing atmosphere - with their brilliant yellows and reds. Just underneath the stained glass window was a small pedestal that was covered in a thick duvet and plastic rap, and off in the corner of the room was a sliding glass window with a curtain shielding the other side of the glass.

You sat down on the nearby bench, looking at everything around you. Looking at the pedestal that was before you - where Nyx would be laid to rest. And it felt like your heart was bleeding irrevocably inside of your chest, straining and pumping at the same time as you tried to come to terms with the situation at hand.

At least she was going to join the afterlife in a safe space - at least it was beautiful looking and-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the shutting of the door that you had originally walked through. Lifting your head from Nyx who was peacefully dozing in your arms, you came face-to-face with Dr. Lee. He was dressed in his usual garb of black slacks and a white doctor's coat.

“How are you doing, Y/N?” Was the first thing he asked, as he shut the door behind him and neared you. He knelt in front of your knees, taking both of your hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze.

That’s when you managed to find the courage to look up into his eyes finally, and the heartache and pain that you found there just made it hurt a little bit more. You felt your bottom lip quake, as the sobs freely flowed from you. You didn’t even have to reply since he already knew how difficult this was for you. So he kept quiet, not moving from his position in front of you and holding onto you as you cried yourself to exhaustion.

“I-I’m ready,” you finally said, roughly scrubbing at your eyes with the palm of one of your hands to try and knock some sense into yourself.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, the concern dripping in his voice from the way that it deepened somewhat.

You nodded furiously, heart hurting so much that it felt like you were going to drop dead from a heart attack any minute. “Y-Yeah.”

Then his hands were slipping away from yours, leaving a fierce shiver to course down the length of your spine at the absence of his touch. He stood close to the curtained window and tapped on the glass once, and you turned your head to the side just in time to glimpse Yongbok pushing the glass aside before he handed over a metal dish that had a small syringe placed in it.

You swallowed around the huge lump that was forming in your dry throat. And when Yongbok offered you a sincere, comforting smile, all you could do was nod once before he was shutting the glass door again, pulling the curtain closed to give you and Dr. Lee some privacy.

Then it was all happening at once - too quickly for you to even grasp - as Dr. Lee was gently taking Nyx from your grasp and laying her down on the cushioned pedestal. She put up no resistance and nudged her little black nose into the palm of his hands, purring in satisfaction. She had always had a soft spot for the doctor.

You stumbled over to her, grabbing hold of one of her paws and squeezing it delicately. You peered up at Dr. Lee through hazy eyes, his face a blotch of color shining through your tear-stained vision. “P-Promise me it’ll be painless, doctor. You- you have to promise me…” Your voice broke off at the end of your words, as you leaned down into Nyx and pressed kiss after kiss into her silky fur.

“She won’t feel a thing, Y/N. I promise.” You heard Dr. Lee say before he was moving again, picking up one of her paws in bated silence. You felt his eyes on you, as you cried into Nyx’s warm skin for the last time.

“I love you so much, girl…” You whispered, voice barely audible to your ears. Cracking irrevocably. “I’ll see you again someday- so... just wait for me there, yeah?”

Then, almost like she could understand your words, Nyx moved her head over to your neck and nuzzled into you, purring lowly. The sobs wracked through your body, as you felt Dr. Lee leaning into her at the same time as you held her close.

You squeezed your eyes shut, like if you closed them long enough, everything would disappear.

The pain,

The loss,

The fear.

And then just like that, Dr. Lee was sighing heavily, a metric ton of agonizing weight in just his breathing alone. “It’s done.”

In the blink of an eye, it was all over.

You clutched onto Nyx’s languid body, holding onto her for dear life. Perhaps, if you held her long enough, she’d come back.

But nothing happened.

There was no more purring,

Or meowing,

Or scratching.

Just…

Utterly nothing.

Silence.

And that was the worst part about it all.

“It hurts,” you began, voice not even sounding like your own from all of the dryness and the crying, “it hurts so fucking much.”

You were shaking your head then, still clutching at one of Nyx’s little pink paws. Then you felt arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. Hands clutched at your sides, and you all but turned around to bury your face into the warmth of Dr. Lee.

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone, his deep, melodic voice so close to your ear that it sent a ripple of shivers across your skin. “I know it hurts, Y/N, but I’m here…”

And then you could do nothing more,

As a new wave of grief washed over you,

Suffocating the very air right out of your lungs,

Drying out your entire being,

Causing the dull pain of a bad headache to bloom across either of your temples.

All you could do at that point was cry and cry and cry, your entire body violently shaking as you held onto Dr. Lee for dear life. And he made no point of pulling away from you. Almost like, he had planned to be there all along.

To be continued...

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©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

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weixuldo · 3 years ago

Text

Never Forgotten// ch 6

Vader x F!Reader

(a/n: ngl idk how long this story will end up being but i hope u all continue to read !! also idk what other things to write about so you can submit requests if u want!!)

you and vader separately explore your feelings for eachother

Warnings: cursing, medical descriptions

Wc: 2591

__________________________________________

About a week had passed since you first saw Vader out of the suit. Since then you had continued to apply different creams and salves to his skin and monitored his blaster wounds. The two of you spoke more often when you were in the med bay, but outside you remained formal.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. Anakin, Vader, whoever, you were drawn to every version of him. You knew it was wrong, after all you were just another worker bee to the empire and he was a crucial player, but you couldn’t help but feel let down when he would barely speak to you outside of the bay.

Even alone in your room you couldn't get him out of your mind. In his suit he was domineering with his deep modulated voice. Such authority, he demanded an audience wherever he went. And his body in the suit. So tall and dark, so strong. You wondered how it would feel to walk by his side as his equal. As his partner.

But you also dreamed of him out of the suit, just him. How you would hold him tight and give him all of you. Only if he wanted you as much as you wanted him. All of him.

During the later hours of the night your mind often wandered to less than professional thoughts about him. Yes he was your patient, but he was also your first love.

You imagined being with him the way lovers would. Soft caresses, whispers of love, embracing each other, passionate love. You wanted to make him feel good. So good.

__________________________________________

You scheduled a bacta soak for Vader, which he was grateful for. As he floated in the tank his mind wandered to you, as of late he could only think of you. Your soft palms resting on his body throughout his appointments. He found himself looking forward to the daily check-ins with you. He could lower his defenses, at least a little, with you.

You never criticized his body or pried him for information about the past. There was a silent understanding between you two, you once knew each other, but now circumstances were different, though you still saw the good old days in each other.

The more time he spent around you, the more he was feeling like the little boy who had a crush on you. He knew he shouldn’t feel that way, he was a leader of the Empire after all. He was not a good guy. He killed his own wife, how could he allow himself another chance at love when Padme was lying in a grave. Plus if his master ever found out, he would try to use you as collateral, and Vader would not have that.

He loosened his muscles in the soothing bacta liquid, mind wandering once more to Padme. He held her in a deep regard, but the fact she could not love him unconditionally, pained him deeply. She was an amazing woman whom he loved, but was he still in love with her?

He had years to ponder their relationship, but the older he got the more he realized he had moved on. He still felt guilty for her death but he just couldn’t get past the fact that everything he did was for her, and yet, she could barely even stand in his presence. She was a memory of the past now.

Oppositely, there was you, a memory of the past, resurrected. Truly you were his first love, but he was discouraged since it seemed you did not reciprocate his feelings. You were the reason he called Padme an angel in Watto’s shop. It seemed he couldn’t have you and being a naive boy he was, he wanted to make you jealous. He didn’t know how much that small action impacted you.

It wasn’t absurd for his feelings to grow back, literally your whole job was to take care of him. But he didn’t realize how many years and how much his subconscious longed for you.

He opened his eyes as he heard the door to the tank room open. He drew his brows together, ready to punish whoever dared disturb him. Instead of a trooper or diplomat at the entrance, it was you dashing in and closing the doors behind you. You weren’t sporting your standard empire uniform, instead you were in some type of loungewear with a silk kimono over your shoulders. He felt he shouldn’t be seeing you like this. He averted his gaze as he felt his cheeks heat up. He was glad he had on some bottoms today.

“What possessed you to run in here?” he spoke to you through the force.

Your head snapped towards him and eyes widened, you forgot you scheduled him a soak today. At least he was covered, you laughed.

“U-um…. So it's not really that important” you nervously giggled.

“I asked you a question, F/N.” he said, more like a concerned friend than a command.

“Heh .. kinda embarrassing actually… I was in bed then I remembered I needed to prepare something for tomorrow…and I kinda wanted a snack…” You trailed off at the last part.

“So I went to the lab and got it set up, and I wanted to bring a fern back to my room so the aloe plant could have a friend when I'm gone.”

You were so cute.

“Sadly the fern is still in the med bay… on the floor. So I was walking out and some stormtroopers were patrolling the hallway and started shouting at me. I’m not really used to the whole soldiers around every corner yet, so I just ran. And I know they can’t come in here so I was just going to hide in here for a while.”

“Why did you not just go back to your room?”

Oh.

You didn't think about that.

“I WAS PANICKING!! I was in straight fight or flight mode.”

“So I guess we know what you will do in battle. Run away” he said.

You straightened up and stalked towards the tube in the center of the room. You could see his eyes now.

“Actually I’m a good fighter. But I was unarmed and dressed like this”, you motioned to your nightwear. “I’m a pretty good shot, Mr. I-have-a-fancy-glowy-stick” you quipped.

“Seems I touched a nerve, Ms. F/N” you quipped.

You rolled your eyes and looked at the clock. His soak was about to end anyways, so you began to drain the tank. Once the water was all out he was left suspended by the holster that adorned his chest. Instead of using the air vents to dry him you pressed some buttons to lower him closer to the floor. You grabbed some fluffy towels from a cabinet.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

You yawned. “Those air dryers can't be pleasant. They blast cool air for galaxy’s sake. I’m gonna dry you off.”

You came up to where he was, now face to face, the absence of his cybernetics allowed him to still be off the ground. You helped him take the oxygen mask off. You began to dry his face, neck, and shoulders. You took careful time drying his chest and back, for…personal reasons. He felt a little embarrassed still, but he was more used to you seeing him like this. He had to keep certain thoughts of you from his mind, at the moment there was too much of him that could give away what he was thinking.

You knew the ends of his limbs were sensitive, so you gently dried around the ports. Every once in a while he would flinch, and you’d apologize. Once you dried him you let the droids connect his limbs. Once they were on, you handed him the towel to finish drying as you looked away.

“That was….pleasant. Thank you F/N”

You smiled at him, “thank you for allowing me to do it for you, sir.”

“F/N, we agreed titles were irrelevant when it is just us”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was this him letting you get closer? This showed he wanted your relationship to be more casual. “Right!”

“Did you at least get your snack?” he asked. Oh! Your snack! Was he really paying that much attention to you?

Your face lit up as you pulled a mini space waffle, you showed it off to him. “Yepp! Oh! Was there anything you needed to attend this evening?”

“No, there is nothing scheduled, why?”

“Could you stay here for a while?” you asked, “It’s kind of lonely here.”

His eyes softened, he hadn't thought about how difficult these past weeks had been for you.

“As you wish.”

You got up quickly to grab two blankets and an oxygen mask. You placed the mask beside him, “Here if you need it later”, then proceeded to wrap a blanket around his shoulders as you took the other for yourself.

You were adorable

You opened the mini waffle’s packaging, as Vader watched you. You got to the waffle and broke it in half, “Do you want some Vader? I know you normally don't eat solids, but it’s so yummy.”

At this moment you could ask him to take a blaster shot to the chest and he would do it simply because you were the one who asked. “That would be adequate”

You gave him the piece and you two ate the snack. “Sorry I barged in here”.

“Do not concern yourself with that, F/N” he spoke as he finished the waffle.

“To be honest, I was hoping to see you. I missed you today.” you said. You scheduled a soak for him since he was too busy to fit in a normal appointment today.

“Is that so? I also feel as if today was missing something”.

Your cheeks were starting to get red. “May I ask you a question?”.

Vader nodded.

“Do you ever miss our childhood?”

Vader thought for a moment before responding. “I spent many years trying to forget my past. Though, Recently I find myself pondering those times more often.”

“Me too.”

__________________________________________

The next day you opened your door to two stormtroopers on the other side. Your eyes widened. Oh shit. What did you do?

“We are terribly sorry for last night’s incident, Ms.” they spoke in tandem.

“What made you two want to apologize?” you asked.

They turned to each other then back to you, “Lord Vader orde-asked us to apologize for our impudence.”

Huh. Vader hunted them down just so they would apologize….to you? Wow.

You nodded and thanked them, once they walked off you made your way to the med bay.

You entered the room, half hoping Vader would already be in there, much to your dismay, he wasn’t. You sighed and went to run some labs on a new pill you created, the pill contained natural healers and infused with bacta molecules. Hopefully Vader would be able to use the pill and over time it would begin to heal some of the extensive damage to his lungs.

After a while you heard the doors open and the sounds of familiar breathing flooded the bay. You turned towards the entrance and smiled when you met Vader’s gaze. He closed the doors with a simple wave of his hand. Slowly he walked towards you, “There is something we need to discuss, F/N”.

He placed a mechanical hand on your shoulder and breathed a deep sigh. What was going on? Did you do something wrong?, “Yes?”.

“It has come to my attention, I have not been the most accommodating of your transition to life in the empire. My apologies.”

What was he talking about? “Oh, ok thank…you?”

“I never intended for you to feel alone. I…deeply care about your quality of life here.” He spoke, turning his helmet away from your face.

You smiled, he cared about you. “May I hug you?” You asked, you needed to let him know how much his words meant to you.

Stunned, he nodded as he slowly began to open his arms. You practically ran into his chest, being weary of his chest box. You nuzzled your face into him and held onto his top, this is how it should be.

He found himself relaxing under your touch, tenderly he reciprocated your embrace. Placing a hand on the back of your head and one on your back, he felt something deep inside his hardened heart stir.

“Thank you, Ani. Really, thank you for everything. I can’t even begin to tell you how I felt when you told me it was you. I know you’re Vader now, but I just wanted to let you know, I care about every version of you.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes. You were overcome with emotion as you were finally in his strong embrace. “You don’t know how much last night meant to me. I really missed just talking to you. Honestly, I just miss you.”

His heart swelled. Hearing that from you, meant the galaxy to him. He wanted to tell you how he felt too, but something told him to wait a little longer. He wasn’t quite sure if you were missing just your friend. What if you only wanted to be friends? He didn’t have much experience with these types of feelings, so he was bad at reading signals.

“F/N. I appreciate your words. If you would like, you may call me by my name when we are in private.”

You pulled away and beamed up at him. He was becoming more comfortable, he was letting you in. “Thank you, Anakin”.

He nodded, “Shall we begin today’s examination?”

“Hah! Of course! Sorry for getting sentimental so early, let's get to it!” You said, kind of embarrassed you dumped all of that onto him. He had more important matters to worry about.

“There is no reason for apologies, F/N. You do not need to feel embarrassed around me.”

You sat him down and began the normal routine. You checked his vitals then at the blaster wounds. They were healing nicely, some of the ointment you whipped up sped up the process rapidly.

“Your concoctions have been working well, F/N. They smell nice…like you.” Vader spoke.

You were re-wrapping the wound on his thigh and without looking up you teased back, “ Oh, so you think I smell nice? I must be on your mind a lot then, with the inside of your suit smelling like the creams.”

“You are often on my mind. Regardless of the fragrance.”

Shit. You had to stop what you were doing. Your heart skipped a beat and your face was definitely red. He was just teasing you, right?

He let out a hoarse laugh, “You seem…unsettled?” He said with a smirk.

There. There he was.

“Um, definitely not. I was just wondering why I would be occupying such a powerful man’s thoughts?” The ball was in his court now.

His smirk quickly fell, now it was his turn to be flustered. “I forgot how quick you were F/N.” He looked away. “Why would I not think of my prized medic? The one who runs into my chambers with a space Waffle?”

Your turn to blush, “fair enough.”

This “friendship” with Lord Vader was comforting but you really wanted more, you wanted all of him. With each encounter you felt yourself falling for him all over again. If only you knew,

he was too.

***

taglist: @dokoni-mo, @the-official-memester , @wizardofrozz , @guinea-pig16 , @jar-of-moondust , @stxrrielle , @katsukiswrld , @eskel-adores-lilbleater , @yvette-ace , @lordfishflakes , @venus-armote , @emuxmu , @msblazer , @organasith , @loversjoy , @khaleesihavilliard, @sxoulchvn, @abby-22 , @astra-1780, @hyojin-2579, @lollaa-puff, @ayothatsano, @alexandra900925,

#darth vader fic #darth vader fanfic #darth vader x reader #vader #sw darth vader #lord vader #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #never forgotten

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no1frogfan · 2 years ago

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Endings and beginnings, part 2

Tsukishima Kei x gn reader

Series synopsis: By all accounts, you’re happy. Five years out of college, your freelance art career is finally picking up and you’re able live comfortably between projects by bartending on the weekends. You’re surrounded by long-time friends and things are starting to get serious with your boyfriend. The cracks begin to form in the life you’re building when you hear from a mutual friend that Tsukishima is getting divorced. Tsukishima Kei, a person you used to consider one of your best friends, but whom you’ve spoken to only a handful of times since high school. You reach out to him for the first time in almost a decade, offering support to a friend you were once close to. As you gradually help him heal from his marriage, your old crush on him begins to resurface.

Chapter word count: ~2.2k

Chapter tags & warnings: alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, Tsukishima has a lot of negativity, discussion of divorce and emotionally abusive relationship

Note: The dialogue and organization for this chapter were so challenging to figure out. Hope it reads ok

Series masterlist < part 1 | part 3 >

2. March

Your attention is drawn to him the second you walk through the doors. He has the same standoffish demeanor that you remember from high school, the lightly furrowed brow, a frown perpetually tugging at his lips. Backlit by the lights behind the bar, Tsukishima’s hair could almost be mistaken for a messy halo.

“You ok?” Makoto looks at you with concern.

“Hmm?” You whip around to face him. “Oh, I’m fine babe. They’ve just really turned up the heat in here.”

“Yea, it’s practically a sauna. Why don’t I take your coat for you?”

You shimmy your jacket off and hand it over, thanking your boyfriend as he heads to the coat check.

The room feels both cozy and spacious, with a low ceiling and a large, open layout. The bar top curves all the way around the back of the room, and elegant, origami-inspired chandeliers hang low, giving off a dim and inviting glow.

Many friendly faces are engrossed in conversation around you, seated in small groups on plush, velvet couches or perched on padded bar stools. It’s been months since you’ve seen some of them. It’s understandable on their part, considering they have busy careers or are professional athletes. As for you, your schedule isn’t necessarily packed on a daily basis, but between juggling your projects on weekdays and bartending on weekends, it still feels like you haven’t been able to catch a breath.

You find the man of the evening, Kiyoomi, whose lovely wife organized this whole celebration - buying out the venue for the night and inviting all his friends. Despite his famously reserved personality, the soft smile on his face seems to indicate he’s having a good time tonight.

“Happy birthday Sakusa-kun!” You greet him as you and Makoto join the circle of well-wishers around them.

After thanking you, Kiyoomi continues recounting his recent trip to Paris with the rest of the Olympic team for 2 weeks of special training. Unfortunately, his wife had to stay in Tokyo to manage the new publicity campaign the Jackals are preparing to launch. When more people approach to greet Kiyoomi, you and Makoto take the opportunity to slip away and join another group of friends, chatting, joking, reminiscing, catching up. You both congratulate Daichi, who was promoted to fire lieutenant, and Shoyo, who just celebrated half a year with Asas Sao Paulo. You also toast to the Tanakas who are expecting another child in a few months. Kiyoko seems fairly relaxed about this pregnancy (their third!), but Ryuu is as nervous as a first-time father. Makoto sets about distracting Ryuu from his new baby anxieties, asking about the nitty-gritty of their preparations, about baby clothes, and doctor’s appointments, and juggling everything around two active toddlers.

You start to tune out the baby talk as you scan the room. You find him sitting in the same spot. Yamaguchi seems intent on keeping him occupied, mouth moving a mile a minute as Tsukishima perches at the bar facing slightly away from his best friend. Excusing yourself from Makoto and the Tanakas, you head over.

“Hey you two.”

Tsukishima’s eyes flit to you. He nods briefly in greeting before turning away again.

Yamaguchi, meanwhile, breaks out in a huge smile and pulls you in for a hug. “Hey! Good to see you, it’s been months!”

“Yea, it’s been ages!”

You’re all silent for a moment until you test the waters with a hesitant, “Sooo…how are you guys doing?”

Yamaguchi looks expectantly at Tsukishima. You do too, examining him closely for the first time in…3? 4? years. He’s still unmistakably him. Still gangly, impossibly long legs splayed out beneath him and lanky arms draped over the bar top. He’s grown into his body. His chest and shoulders fill out his button-down nicely, the sleeves tightening around his biceps every time he brings his glass to his lips. He’s slouching at the moment, which you don’t remember him doing much of in high school, but you’re sure he would strike an imposing figure if he pulled himself up to his full height.

When the blond doesn’t make a move to answer, Yamaguchi jumps in. “I’ve been good! Yachi too. I think I told you that we moved to the new apartment right?” You nod. “It’s amazing! The location is perfect and there’s so much natural light. We just got a cat too!”

“Wow! It sounds like you two are really getting settled in!” You try to draw Tsukishima into the conversation. “What about you Tsukishima? Have you started at the National Museum yet?”

“Yea, last month.” He gazes around the room aimlessly.

“Oh! Does that mean you’ve already moved down from Sendai?”

“Yup.”

“Some of the Karasuno guys and I helped drive his stuff down and get it all set up,” Yamaguchi chimes in.

“That’s nice of you Tadashi! And how’s the museum so far?”

The smile on your face falters as Tsukishima finally fixes you in his sights. He crosses his arms before snidely responding, “Shall we stop avoiding the elephant in the room?”

You look away, trying to hide from his piercing stare. Next to you, Yamaguchi fiddles with the cuffs of his shirt. Should you pretend not to know about his separation from Natsumi? A quick glance at him pushes that thought out of your head. No, he wants the truth. “I heard,” you sigh, unsure of what else to say.

The three of you freeze in that awkward moment for what feels like an eternity. You almost swear there’s a perverse pleasure on Tsukishima’s face as you and Tadashi steal uneasy looks at each other. He takes a languid gulp of red wine, grimacing as he swallows, letting the discomfort build and build before finally revealing, “The divorce was finalized last month.”

“O- OH.” Yamaguchi looks as surprised as you. “And, uh…how are you feeling Tsukki?”

“Happy? Sad? Angry? Who the fuck knows,” Tsukishima sneers.

“Why not all of them?” Yamaguchi jokes weakly.

Tsukishima lets out a scoff.

“Well, I for one am glad you’re in Tokyo now.” You reply cheerfully. “The three of us can have movie nights and pig out on cake together again.”

The muscles tense in Tsukishima’s neck. “Drop the charade, ok?”

“Sorry, what?”

“This. Whatever this is. Just. Stop.” His fists are clenched now, his tone venomous. “I appreciate you putting me in touch with your friend and all. Really. But you people don’t have to keep doing this whole fake thing where you act like you want to hang out or get coffee or catch up” - each phrase is punctuated by aggressive air quotes - “when we all know you’re just saying it to be polite. I know you can’t actually want to spend time with me because you barely know me anymore.”

You must look dumbfounded because Tsukishima’s expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t move to take back what he said.

“Tsukki-”

“Shut up Yamaguchi,” He flings every word like a dagger. “What’s the point in pretending? It’s not like you’re fooling me. I know I’m hard to get along with, ok? I’ve always been hard to get along with. I’m selfish, I’m mean, I have a shitty personality, and guess what? It’s even shittier now. I know I’m pathetic. I know I’m especially fucking miserable to be around right now. I know, ok? I KNOW.”

The air feels thick. Yamaguchi sits frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, wide eyes flickering between you. Tsukishima’s eyes sear into you. He downs the last of his wine, his knuckles white from gripping the stem of his wine glass so tightly, you’re sure it’ll snap in half any second.

He’s right, kind of. He’s changed a lot in the past 10 years, and your relationship has changed too. You can’t just pick up where you left off. The trust is gone and it doesn’t do either of you any good to pretend otherwise.

You take a step back and hold your hands up, palms facing him. “Tsukishima, I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch much since we graduated, but I promise I do actually want to hang out again. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m not pretending, and I’m sure Yamaguchi isn’t either.” Yamaguchi nods vigorously at that. You continue. “I’m genuinely happy for us to have the chance to rebuild our friendship.” You reach out to squeeze his arm softly before dropping your hands back down at your sides.

Tsukishima scrutinizes you before eventually lowering his eyes to the empty wine glass in his hand.

“Me too, Tsukki. Let’s toast to rebuilding,” Yamaguchi suggests, flagging down the bartender.

The three of you clink glasses. Tsukishima unclenches his jaw, though he still appears guarded.

Yamaguchi clears his throat. “Did I mention I got a promotion?”

“Oh wow, congrats!”

Yamaguchi turns to you. “What about you? Any news?”

“Not really, just been busy lately. I started at a new bar and business there is pretty good. I’ve been trying to wrap up a bunch of small projects right now too - got a big one coming up soon and it sounds like the timeline for it will be pretty tight.” You start to tell them about your upcoming postcard project and the atmosphere begins to relax.

Tsukishima goes back to people watching as you and Yamaguchi chatter on either side of him. Slowly, he begins interjecting snarky comments while you two carry on about nothing of importance. It’s surprising how quickly the three of you can nestle back into this familiar dynamic.

“I missed this. The three of us.” Tsukishima jolts you out of your nostalgia. He sounds wistful as he stares at the liquor bottles lined up behind the bar. “I wanted to keep in touch more too, you know. It’s just…Natsumi… she always felt left out when it was the three of us, so I didn’t reach out as much as I wanted to. I’m sorry. And-”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to apologize.”

“-I didn’t want to be a burden either. I realized I needed to learn how to be independent and solve my own problems instead of running to you two for help all the time.”

Emika’s words come back to you. “Did…Natsumi say that?”

Tsukishima looks at you blankly. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in a relationship? Work things out with each other?”

“Yes and no… It’s always good to talk to your partner about your feelings and concerns about your relationship, but it’s also important to have other people to talk things out with too. Sometimes it’s just nice to have a place to vent about dumb things, but sometimes you really need an outside opinion, you know?” You prod a little. “I mean…didn’t she talk to her friends about your relationship?”

“Yea, but that’s different.”

You think you can read between the lines. “How is it different?”

“Well, you know what I’m like.” He shifts in his seat. “When we fought, she’d call them to talk and they’d support her, give her advice, help cheer her up… It helped her a lot I think…” Tsukishima trails off.

You see the gears turning in his head and decide not to push any further. “Well, I know we haven’t talked in ages, but I still consider you a friend.” You gesture around the bar. “You’ve got lots of friends here, actually. They were happy to help with the move and I’m sure we’re all happy to support you in other ways too.”

“Even Kageyama,” Yamaguchi laughs. That at least earns an eye roll from Tsukishima.

You open your mouth to hammer home the point, but Makoto walks up at that moment. He waves hello to Yamaguchi and you introduce him to Tsukishima.

“Babe, it’s time to go.”

You bite back a groan. Why did you agree to meet up with his parents tomorrow morning again? You buy yourself a minute by asking Makoto to grab your coat. As he heads off, you state firmly, “It was really good to see you both. Let’s go out soon, just the three of us, ok?” You give them each a small hug and head off after your boyfriend.

As you walk into your apartment, the exhaustion of the evening finally hits you. You sluggishly go through the motions, hanging your jackets up at the door, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and changing into pajamas before climbing into bed together.

Makoto’s arms are warm and comforting as he pulls you back against his chest. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yea,” you yawn. “I’m really happy I got to see everyone. Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course, I’m glad I got to see everyone too. My parents said they’re looking forward to catching up with us tomorrow.”

“Aww, that’s sweet of them.”

Makoto runs his fingers across your stomach and sighs. “The Tanakas seem really excited about their new baby.”

“Yea, I can’t believe they’re having a third. They make good parents,” you mumble, quickly drifting off.

He hesitates. “I think we’d make good parents too.”

Beside him, you’ve already fallen asleep.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #tsukishima angst #froggy scribbles

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softsnzstuff · 3 years ago

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Take One Down, Pass It Around

Fandom: Stranger Things, (my Doctor Office AU)

Summary: Everyone gets sick. That’s it. That’s the fic…

Word Count: ~ 10k ~

CW: Mentions of v*mit only at the very very end

Thursday, October 13th

Robin chewed on the back of her pen while she scrolled on the computer. She was almost done verifying patients’ insurances for the next day and was prepping all of the charts.

There was a small gust of air as someone plopped into the seat next to her at her desk.

“Hey Birdie!”

It was Eddie. Every now and again he would come sit with her at her desk either to catch up or to vent about different things happening.

“What’s up, doc?” She imitated Bugs Bunny and laughed.

He leaned back in the chair, Metallica t-shirt peeking out from behind his white coat.

“Can I take a peek at tomorrows schedule?”

“Sure!” She set down the pen and pulled open a different tab on her computer, Eddie scooting closer to her to look over her shoulder.

She looked on as he skimmed the block schedule, seeing names and brief appointment notes that Robin had typed. The appointment boxes were color coded based on the type of appointment - injection, consult, check-up, pre-op.

Eddie noted the mostly orange schedule. “Geez, that’s a lot of consults.”

He was right. Robin had access to all the provider schedules - Eddie, Billy, and Nancy. For all three, at least half of the daily schedule was orange.

“It’s mostly patients who think they have the flu.” Robin noted.

Eddie nodded as he kept skimming notes for the next day, “Yeah, this flu season is already shaping up to be a brutal one it looks like. You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s a bit hectic sometimes but I can handle it.”

She appreciated his asking. After all, there were three providers and only one of her. Check in, check out, and scheduling was all her responsibility on top of sending out reminder calls and checking insurance.

“Well we all appreciate you!” Eddie smiled and squeezed her shoulder as he stood up to head back towards his office.

The bell above the door alerted her to the arrival of Mr.Jenkins, who was following up after a fall on his hip a few weeks ago.

“Hey Mr.Jenkins, how’s the hip?”

“Still sore but it’s been a lot better since Doctor Munson worked his magic.” The elderly gentleman explained.

“Well that’s great news!” Robin pulled his chart - the last one of the day, thank gosh - and scribbled some notes. “Any updates in contact information?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” The man chuckled.

“Okay then!” She smiled and stood up, “Insurance covers the follow up, so you have no financial responsibility. If you’ll have a seat, Steve will be out to get you in just a minute.”

The man nodded as he sat on one of the chairs, looking up at the tv, playing the cooking channel as always.

Robin found Steve in the back room. Both Steve and Nancy’s desks were there, as well as a sink and some cabinets. Steve was at the counter looking at a paper strip under the light.

“Whatcha doin?” She asked, making Steve jump.

“Jesus Buckley…I’m running the flu test for Mrs.Chavez. It’s definitely positive.” He half directed the response towards Nancy, who was the PA tending to her.

“Thanks Steve. I’ll send a script for Tamiflu.” She typed into her own computer.

“Last patient for Eddie. Mr.Jenkins, doing better after his treatment last time.”

Steve smiled. He and Robin were the most familiar with all the different patients since they saw everyone and not just a select few. As he looked at the notes on the chart, an exam room door closed, Billy walking out and thrusting a chart out at Robin.

“Here. Tell him to come back in three weeks for a follow up.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, as he was writing something down on a sticky note that he put on Steve’s monitor. “Add those notes to the digital chart, would ya? I’m heading out.”

The man pulled on a leather jacket and grabbed his backpack. “Be back tomorrow.” He mumbled.

After the back door had closed behind him, Robin called out, “You’re welcome!!”

*****

Friday, October 14th

“Gosh these lights really drain the color from this place huh?”

Robin directed the comment at the model skeleton in the back where Steve’s desk was. She was at the office bright and early with her box of cheap decorations.

To be quite honest, she should have decorated earlier, but it had just gotten so busy lately. She’d already put small pumpkins on everyone’s desk, orange and black streamers twirled together and hanging off the edges. She was so preoccupied she missed the ringing of the back door that would usually tell her Steve and Eddie had arrived.

She’d placed a cloak around the skeleton and perched a witches hat atop its head.

“That’s much better! What do you think?”

“I think it looks great.” Steve walked in from the hallway behind her.

“JESUS CHRIST!” She jumped, throwing a foam bat at him.

It bounced off his chest and he raised an eyebrow. “Who are you talking to??”

She bit her lip and looked away. “Skully…”

A laugh escaped his lips, “You’re talking to Skully??? The skeleton??”

“Shut up Harrington, he’s good company. Now are you gonna just stand there or are you going to help me?”

She gestured at the open box on his desk. He pulled out a couple reusable wall stickers of bats, ghosts, and Jack-o-lanterns, taking them to the waiting room and hanging them up. Robin tore open a box of pens with Halloween bobbles on them and put one on each person’s desk.

The disposable cups and plates in the staff room were replaced with Halloween printed ones, a bowl of candy being added in the staff room for them, as well as Robin’s desk for the patients.

Once the office was thoroughly decorated to her liking, she let Steve get to work at his desk while she logged into her own computer and turned the tv on to the cooking channel.

She made sure to pull up today’s schedule, the digital charts, and the list of reminder calls to make later that day before she unlocked the front door for the first patients. There were already four waiting outside.

Back at her desk, the first two approached - the Alvarados. Mrs.Alvarado scribbled both their names on the sign in sheet while Mr.Alvarado went to sit down.

“Good Morning, Robin.” She greeted.

“Hiya Mrs.Alvarado, how are you both doing?”

The woman shrugged while Robin pulled both of their charts. “Not doing too great, sweetie. We’ve been feeling sick for a week or so now.”

Robin added some notes to the chart. “I’m so sorry to hear that! Doctor E will hopefully take care of that for you.”

She offered a sympathetic smile to the woman who nodded before joining her husband on the plastic seats.

“I’ll be right with you, Mickey!” She smiled at the older man who was signing his name on the sign in sheet.

She scooped up the Alvarados’ charts and brought them to the back.

“Mr and Mrs.Alvarado, here for a flu consult for the both of them with Eddie.” She handed both charts to Steve who skimmed over the notes and typed into his computer.

“Thanks Robs, I’ll get them in a room right now.”

He got up and followed her to the front, Robin going to her desk to continue check ins, and Steve calling the Alvarados back to exam room 1.

Mr.Gilmore (“Mickey, please”) was one of Robin’s favorites. He was a very relaxed man in his late 60’s and was here to see PA Wheeler for a medication refill.

“Alright Mickey, you know the drill.”

“Steve will come get me in a little bit… speak of the devil.” Mickey waved to Steve who just left exam room 1.

“Hey Mickey! I’ll be out in just a second!” The brunette waved back, smiling, and continued his walk to Eddie’s office to let him know that his first patients were here.

The last one to check in was Mrs.Waters, here for Billy. She was a bit of a hard ass, but then again, so was he.

“Karen Waters to see Doctor Hargrove. I have an appointment.” She said blandly, looking at her fingernails.

Robin absolutely knew who she was, but the woman for some reason always felt the need to remind her in the rudest of tones.

“Hi Karen, how are you today?” Robin attempted.

“Not great, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” The woman snapped.

Robin held back a sigh, “Sorry about that. Looks like your copay today is going to be $35.”

“Really?? Last time it was only $30. This is absurd.”

Robin pulled up the patient data on her computer, “I can print you the invoice Mrs.Waters. It’s always been $35 for a consult with your insurance until you hit the deductible.”

The women groaned over dramatically, unbuttoning her wallet and slapping a credit card down on the counter, chewing her gum loudly in frustration.

Robin cautiously took the card, all too familiar with the behavioral issues of Billy’s patients. She typed some numbers into the card reader and then swiped the card, two small receipts printing. She tore them both off and handed them to Mrs.Waters who took them and started to walk away.

“Umm Mrs.Waters, you need to sign the top copy and give it back. The bottom copy is yours.”

The woman groaned and trudged back to the counter scribbling a sorry excuse for a signature on the top copy and pushing it back at Robin before she took her seat.

Robin got up with Mrs.Waters’ chart and rolled her eyes as she walked it back to Steve.

“Our favorite person on the planet is here for Billy.” She said sarcastically, tossing the chart on Steve’s desk, who read the name and sighed audibly.

The next hour was spent checking in the next patients, and signing out/scheduling follow ups for the early morning ones.

Mrs.Waters, always a spectacle, came out beaming and laughing with Billy.

“You’re too good, Doctor Hargrove, thank you.”

“Anytime. You take care of yourself.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

How two insufferable people could make each other smile was beyond her. Steve brought her Mrs.Waters’ chart with the note at the bottom to follow up in two weeks.

“Alright Karen, it looks like we’ll be doing a two week follow up for you?”

“That’s what the paper says isn’t it??” She snapped.

Jesus Christ it was going to be a long Friday…

---

Robin had always joked that her favorite religious passage was “Lunch 12:15”. Today, everyone had to agree.

Billy almost always ate in his office, his car, or in the opposite corner of the room. Eddie, Steve, Nancy and Robin usually sitting at the staff room table together.

“Did anyone else see Mrs.Waters sass me at check out!?” Robin complained.

“She told me I was taking her temperature wrong.” Steve mumbled under his breath, making Eddie snort.

“How do you possibly do it wrong?” Nancy asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Steve threw his hands up in the air, “I don’t know!! Ask Karen!! She said she read online that if she didn’t eat this morning she wouldn’t have a fever.”

Eddie knitted his eyebrows together, “She isn’t referring to….. she can’t be…”

“Feed a cold, starve a fever?” Nancy finished, “yeah, I think she is.”

They all laughed for a minute. Eddie setting down his bag of chips and rubbing the back of his neck. “Gosh I must’ve seen four flu patients just this morning already.”

“I had two.” Nancy added, holding up her hand.

“Billy had at least one on the schedule. Plus two walk ins.” Robin mumbled, poking at her pasta with a fork and taking a bite.

“Running all these flu tests is so repetitive, I think I could do it with my eyes closed.” Steve whined.

“Methinks I smell a challenge…” Eddie grinned.

“No. I’m not doing that.” Steve playfully punched Eddie in the shoulder, the older man leaning in to kiss him. The two had finally admitted to mutual feelings last year and they’d moved in together just a few months ago.

“You’ll have lots more chances to practice Steve,” Robin said, “there’s still like five more on the books for this afternoon.”

They all groaned, Steve looking at his watch, “And there’s only five more minutes of lunch.”

Those, Robin thought, had to be the worst 6 words in the history of man. He was right though, it was almost 1pm. Robin zipped up her lunch bag and tossed it back in the fridge, going to the front to unlock the door again for the afternoon patients.

For the most part, the afternoon was fairly routine. There was a pretty even amount of follow ups and regular consults versus the large influx of flu consults.

Towards the end of the day, one of the nicer patients came in. He was one of their younger patients, around 25 in age.

“Hey Josh!” Robin said. “What can I do for you?”

The man was usually energetic, but Robin could tell from his demeanor that he seemed drained of energy.

“Hey Robin,” he sniffled into a tissue, “Does Doctor Munson have any openings this afternoon? I feel like shit.”

Robin glanced at the clock and then turned back to the man, “let me go check.”

She got up from her seat and headed towards the back room where Eddie was facing Steve’s desk filling him in on the follow up care for the last patient.

Robin rested a hand on Eddie’s back, “Hey Eddie, you have time for one more really quick flu consult? It’s Josh Cummings. He’s in the waiting room right now.”

Eddie sucked in a small breath through his teeth, “mmm for Josh? Yeah go ahead. He’ll be my last one for the day. Cool with you Steve?”

The two of them had planned a Friday date night with a movie and takeout.

“Yeah go ahead, send him back. I’ll take his vitals and test him now.”

Robin nodded a and went up front, “Hey Josh, they said you can come on back.”

“Thank you!” He said, opening the door and following Robin to a room. “Steve will be in shortly.”

Nancy and Billy were wrapping up their last patients, dropping off charts with Robin before they left for the day. Eddie stayed at his desk while Steve stepped into the exam room and closed the door.

“Hey Josh, good to see you man!”

“Hi Steve. Wish it was under better circumstances. I feel so awful.”

Steve was running vitals as he caught up briefly with the boy.

“That’s what Robin said! I’m gonna do a rapid flu test alright?”

Josh nodded as steve snapped on some gloves and tore open the packaging.

“I’m going to swab the back of your nose and then test results should come in about ten minutes. Can you find your head back just a little for me?” Steve took a step closer.

Steve rested a gentle hand under Josh’s chin as he used the other hand to slowly insert the long swab into his nose and swirl it around.

Josh coughed slightly at the touch, his nostrils twitching.”

“I know, it’s uncomfortable I'm sorry. One more.”

“Steve-”

Steve pulled out the swab and inserted it into the other nostril. “Just a little longer buddy…”

“M’gonna- H’iKtch’EW!” Josh sneezed openly, unable to cover with such little warning.

Steve reflexively pulled the swab out, feeling a small mist land on his cheek. He didn’t want Josh to be embarrassed so he just put the swab into the test tube and handed him a box of tissues.

“Excuse me!”

“Here you go, man. I’m gonna go run this and I’ll have your results ASAP.”

Steve pulled off his gloves and washed his hands. As the test results were cooking, he went to the bathroom to rinse his face and wash his hands again.

When he came back to find Josh’s positive flu result staring him in the face, though, he felt the damage had already been done.

He closed his eyes and sighed, not wanting to jump to conclusions. Taking a deep breath, he went to give Josh his results.

*****

Monday, October 17th

When Robin pulled into the parking lot on Monday, she was shocked to see Eddie’s car already there. She was always the first one at the office.

She walked in the back door, looking for either of the boys.

“ih’AYESSSH! ISSSH’iew!”

She heard Steve before she saw him, his loud sneezes echoing through the hallway leading to his desk in the back room.

He was hunched over his desk, blowing his nose.

“Alright there Stevie?” She asked, backpack hanging off one shoulder. “Why are you here so early??”

“Oh hey. snFF yeah I’m okay.” He cleared his throat, Robin not missing the way he winced afterwards, “Eddie wanted to come early. snfSNFF said something about the patients? I dunno.”

“Where is he?”

“Up front I think.” Steve cleared his throat again, Robin approaching her desk with caution.

She found Eddie opening some sort of packaging at her desk.

“Oh hey Robs!” He greeted, “I bought this forehead scanning thermometer. Thought if you don’t mind you could just scan the patients and write the temp on the top of their charts? Might speed things up a bit since we have so many walk ins.”

She chuckled as he waved the device around, pretending to use it as a laser gun, complete with “pew pew” sound effects.

“You’re such a dork.” She took the device from him and set it to the side. “I can do that.”

The back door bell rang twice in succession, Nancy calling out, “Good morning everyone!”

“Morning Nance.” Came as a reply from everyone.

Billy walked in behind her.

Steve but the bullet first, “Morning Billy, h’ekt’CHEW! ISSSH’iew!!”

“Gross! Are you sick Harrington?”

“I’m … it’s just a little… ”

“Whatever, I don’t care, just don’t get your germs on me, kapeesh?”

“Yup. Understood. Sorry.” Steve stared at his feet, Nancy walking over and rubbing a hand on his back.

“He’s just in a bad mood this morning.”

“He’s in a bad mood every morning.” Robin noted.

Eddie shook his head and went up behind Steve, rubbing his shoulders. “Bless you babe.” He kissed the top of Steve’s head and then made his way to his office.

---

“Hey Robin can you do me a favor?” Steve approached her desk with a puzzled look on his face.

“Probably, what is it?”

“Could you just tell me if the labs sent anything for Debbie Reynolds? She can’t remember if she did them or not.”

Robin rolled her eyes laughing, “Mrs.Reynolds can never remember if she did them or not.”

“You’re telling me… H’ITSSSSCHhh!”

“Bless you.” She raised an eyebrow at him but he seemed to ignore her.

He rubbed at his nose, “thanks.”

She turned her chair back to the computer, moving to the digital chart tab and typing in Mrs.Reynolds’ birthday. “Mmmmm yeah looks like she got them done last month. Want me to print them?”

“Please?”

She tapped a few more keys and the bug printer by her desk fired up, two sheets coming out. She pulled them hot off the presses and stapled them before handing it to Steve.

“Thanks Robs!”

An hour or two later, Robin was walking down the hallway when Steve emerged from the bathroom, nose red and streaming. He had some toilet paper pressed against it.

“Whoa are you good?”

He sniffed wetly, “Yeah, just uh. Had to snhhh sneeze so I HAESSSSH! snFF went to the bathroom cuz Billy keeps telling me I’m ISSSHIEW! …gross.”

“You’re not gross, you’re just sick.”

“Heh’KSSHhhh!” He muffled the wet sneeze into his arm.

“Okay that was a little bit gross.” She joked, playfully punching his arm.

“Harrington!” Billy yelled from his office.

“Yeah Billy?”

“Why aren’t there charts on my desk??!”

“Because! I’m … doing something..” his voice turned into a grumble as he shook his head at Robin. He turned on his heels to bring Billy his next chart. Robin felt bad for him.

---

Over time, everyone had developed their own ways of dealing with Billy’s spontaneous irritable moods. Eddie would doodle slightly offensive portraits of him and slip them to Steve, Nancy, or Robin. The girls usually would have a girls’ night where they almost exclusively shit talk him, and Steve would just rant or do impressions of him to Robin.

By the afternoon, Steve was frustrated. He dropped off a chart with Robin and rolled his eyes so far back in his head that she thought they might fall out.

“What did he do now?” She asked in a hushed voice.

Steve shifted his posture and put on his best Billy voice. “Do this now! That’s not right. Where’d you learn this crap? Night school???”

Robin laughed, “Oh my god! Night school? What does that even mean??”

“Hell if I know…” Steve turned to cough into his elbow.

“Seriously Steve, are you okay?”

“I’m just. I’m a little bit sick... It’s nothing.” He huffed a sigh and leaned up against her desk.

“Hmm,” she hummed in disbelief. “I’m bringing you soup later, okay?”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a slight smile. “Thanks Robin.”

---

Usually any post-work shenanigans were planned out in advance, but when life gives you lemons - or in this case makes your best friend sick -, Robin shows up on their doorstep with soup.

“Hey Robs!” Eddie greeted her at the door and gave her a hug. “Come on in.”

Robin made her way to their kitchen, setting the small pot on the stove. She’d been to the apartment a handful of times, since they’d moved in together and was familiar with the layout.

“Where’s Steve?” She asked.

“He’s just taking a shower. He’ll be out soon. Go ahead make yourself comfortable.”

Eddie was out of his doctor gear and wearing grey sweatpants and a black tee. Robin leaned against their kitchen island as he turned on the stove to reheat the soup. “You want anything to drink, Birdie?”

Robins eyes got wide with excitement. “I mean if you’re offering… can you make me one of your famous mojitos? It’s been a day.”

Eddie laughed. “Absolutely.”

He’d been a bar tender on the side to help pay for med school back in the day, and by now, word had gotten around thanks to Steve.

The sound of a door opening came from down the hallway, followed by padded footsteps.

“AESSSH! TISSSH!”

Steve sneezed down into the collar of his shirt and stepped into the kitchen, hair damp. He was sporting pajama pants and a crewneck, looking a little worse for wear.

“Hey sick boy.”

“Hey Robin. Thanks for bringing me soup.”

He walked over to her and she wrapped an arm around his waist. “You act as if I haven’t been bringing you soup since middle school, ya dummy.”

She nudged him, smiling. Eddie turned around from where he was spooning soup into some bowls.

“Oh my god PLEASE tell me about Steve in Middle School!!”

A wicked grin spread across Robin’s face, “Well for starters he-”

The rest of the sentence was muffled as Steve had his arms wrapped around her mouth from behind. “No no no! We’re not doing this today!”

He let go when Robin started laughing. Eddie had set out bowls for them at the table. “Alright dinner is served. And for Miss Robin, a mojito.”

Eddie knelt down, offering her the mojito glass as if he were a knight offering Excalibur to King Arthur.

“Thank you good sir.” She responded in a fake British accent.

“M’lady.” He replied back.

Steve watched the display with eyebrows raised. “You know Robin, I had always hoped you’d get along with my future boyfriend, but you and Eddie together is way more chaotic than expected.”

Eddie grinned. “That’s exactly what we were going for, eh Robs?”

They fist bumped each other and laughed.

“Can we just eat the soup already? You’re making me feel worse.”

*****

Tuesday, October 18

Chrissy had just parked in the lot of Hawkins Medical. She tilted her head down slightly, checking her reflection in the rear view mirror as she tightened her high ponytail.

Her lavender scrubs complimented her well as she stepped out of her car and grabbed her things. She made her way through the back door, bell ringing above her. She placed an iced tea in the staff room fridge and turned around to be face to face with Robin, who had emerged from getting her desk set up.

“Do my eyes deceive me??? CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM IN MY OFFICE!!!”

Robin screeched and have Chrissy a hug, both girls jumping in excitement that they get to work together again.

“They sent me over here for a few days since we heard Steve isn’t feeling well. Thought you could use some backup?”

“Thank the lord for management and Steve’s shit immune system!”

“I heard that!” Came a stuffy call from the back room.

The girls walked towards the voice together. Steve was sat at his desk, scrubs looking a little frumpier than usual.

“Heh’IKTSCH!! TSSCH’IEW!”

“Bless you!” Chrissy offered.

“You look awful.” Robin took in his appearance.

“You flatter me, Buckley.” His voice was scratchy and he just sounded sick.

“Can’t you go home?” The blonde asked.

Steve had a tissue pressed against his nose as he shook his head. “We have so many patients. It’s gonna take all of us and then suhh some H’itssch! Isssh! Tisssh!”

“Bless you again!”

“He’s definitely on his sneeziest day.” Eddie mumbled as he sauntered in, rubbing the heel of his palm against his eyes. “Kept me up all night and then some...”

Steve felt his ears go red, “Said I was sorry…”

“I know baby, it’s not your fault.”

“Well, I’ve got the motivational cough drops at my desk for anyone who needs them.” Robin crossed her arms and pointed to her desk with her head.

“What do you mean motivational?” Chrissy asked.

“Oh the wrapper has messages on it. You know, ‘keep your head up’, ‘you got this’, crap like that.”

Chrissy nodded and set her stuff down in between Steve and Nancy’s desk, asking where she could help. Robin went back to her own area to start making the morning’s reminder phone calls.

She pulled up the list of names and punched in the phone number she’d left off on before Chrissy showed up.

The phone rang four times before it sent her to voicemail.

“Good morning! This is Robin from Hawkins Medical calling for Mrs.Zamora. I just wanted to-”

“ISSSH”

“Just wanted to remind you of your appointment on Thursday a-”

“TISSSSH’iew”

“Thursday at 11:30am. If you can’t make it, please let us know at least 24 hours in advance-”

“H’AESSSSH’ew!”

“Thank you, have a nice day.”

She dropped the phone back into place and went over to Steve’s desk where he was blowing his nose helplessly into another tissue.

“Do you mind?” There was no heat behind the question.

“Sorry Robs.”

“It’s all good Steve, Mrs.Zamora will just have a lovely voicemail of you sneezing your head off.”

She ruffled his hair and walked back to her desk, Chrissy and Nancy giggling quietly to themselves.

Steve turned to them with sarcasm, “Yes, ha ha, very funny isn’t it?”

“It really is,” Chrissy smiled.

---

The morning seemed to both drag on and move quickly. Patients were in and out in record time, but the clinic itself was slammed.

Eddie flopped into the second swivel chair by Robin, using his heels to kick himself closer to her.

“What’s up doc?” She asked over her shoulder as she typed follow up appointment notes into the schedule for her outpatient.

He leaned back and stretched, again rubbing at his eyes. “Ugh, I’m just so tired and it’s only Tuesday!”

“You’re telling me!” She handed the appointment card she was scribbling on to Mr.Whitmore and turned back to Eddie, “Anything interesting happen yet?”

Sometimes Eddie would bring her funny stories after the patients had left or when the waiting room was empty.

“You know Brenda?”

“Brenda Yates? Yeah.”

“Steve told me she’s been heckling him all morning about blowing his nose and going home to rest and drinking juice with vitamin C.” Eddie laughed.

“Ha! She’s not wrong though is she?” Robin asked.

“She’s absolutely correct! But Steve hates being fussed over so he just had to bite his tongue until she checked out.”

“I was wondering why she told me to keep an eye on him… I thought she meant like spying.”

Eddie laughed even harder at that. Despite their enjoyment of poking fun at Steve, they couldn’t disagree that he needed to rest.

All morning, Steve was back and forth between charts, exam rooms, and the bathroom to blow his nose. He really wanted to just stop and lie down, but some of the patients rolling through were a lot sicker than he was. on top of that, Billy was still giving him hell for getting sick in the first place.

“Jesus, Harrington. Medical isn’t a field for the weak. If you can’t keep it together, it screws shit up for everyone else.”

“Sorry Billy” was all he could muster.

Lunch couldn’t come soon enough. Everyone’s patience was running thin. As Steve sat at the table, leaning a heavy head against Eddie’s shoulder, he noticed Nancy staring at the older man.

“Are you not hungry Eddie?” The man in question was sort of picking apart his pasta salad. He looked up after Steve had judged him, unaware he was being spoken to.

“Oh sorry… um not really, no.”

What Eddie didn’t want to say openly was that swallowing really hurt his throat and that talking added to his headache.

“You’re not getting sick too are you?”

His reply was gruff and quick, “I don’t get sick.”

Robin snorted. “Oh yeah sure, just like how you didn’t get sick when we took that boat out last summer. Or how you didn’t get sick earlier this year…”

“That was allergies!”

“Steve can’t catch allergies off you, Eddie.”

Robin exchanged a skeptical glance with Nancy and Chrissy. He knew she was right, but he hated admitting to weakness in front of anyone, let alone his colleagues in this profession.

“I’m fine okay, just drop it!”

The snappy reply caught her off guard, even Nancy and Chrissy going silent. Robin went back to her lunch, mumbling under her breath.

“Okay! Geez! Doctors don’t get sick, I get it.”

---

The bass line of the song pounded lightly in the background of the restaurant the girls were sitting at.

“How is it,” Nancy took a sip of her wine, “That Billy is always the last one to show up and the first one to leave??”

“THANK YOU!” Robin said a little too loudly, setting down her peach mojito. “I simply don’t understand, I mean you and Eddie are clocking overtime every week!”

“I wonder why they don’t just let him go.” Chrissy stirred her dirty shirley and popped a pretzel in her mouth.

Nancy made a noise, “Well I mean we have to admit, he’s good at his job. Billy definitely knows what he’s doing…”

“He’s just a dick.” Robin added.

Chrissy choked on her drink, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth.

“I’m sorry but he is a dick! And all his patients are equally as rude as he is arrogant!”

Nancy laughed. Every now and then, they would all get together for drinks and gossip. Seeing as Eddie was at home looking after Steve, it was a well overdue girls’ night.

“Maybe it’s just a doctor thing?” Chrissy joked.

“Eddie isn’t like that though.” Nancy said.

“No definitely not,” Chrissy agreed, “But he certainly thinks he’s above illness.”

“Yeah what was up with that?” Robin asked.

“I dunno, we just want to help.” The blonde shrugged, sipping her drink and shifted to a sarcastic tone, “But I guess doctors can’t get sick or show weakness at all ever right? Must be like…Doctor law or something.”

“He’ll give in sooner or later.” Robin downed the rest of her mojito as the waiter arrived with their food.

“Oh,” Nancy said, “I’m sure of it.”

*****

Wednesday, October 19

The next morning, Robin was in the staff break room rummaging through the cabinets. She knew they kept a communal bottle of Tylenol somewhere in here.

She finally found one - second drawer from the left. Tapping two pills into her hand, she knocked them back and stood at the sink using her hand to sip some water to wash them down.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she caught a glimpse of herself in the microwave. She knew she looked run down. Her hair was messier than usual, she was pale and wearing sunglasses to both hide the rings under her eyes and to stop the headache that had been bothering her since last night.

Chrissy walked in, jumping slightly at her friend’s appearance and demeanor.

“Oh my gosh Robin, we didn’t drink that much last night!”

The girl in question turned around and took off the sunglasses. “M’not hungover.” She managed a small laugh, “My head is killing me though.”

“Well that’s not good! Did you-”

“Take Tylenol? Yeah. Just downed two.”

The bell on the back door rang, Steve trailing in slowly.

“HAESSSSSH! ISSSH! TSCHIEW! M’borni’g.” His consonants were rounded, voice thick with congestion.

“Morning…” Robin groaned.

Steve stopped in his tracks. “Aw Robs… n’dot you too.”

He had switched out his contacts for glasses today - a sure fire sign that he still wasn’t feeling well.

“Yes, me too. This is what I get for being nice and bringing you soup.” She half teased, pouting as Steve came over to give her a hug.

“I’b sorry.”

“Where’s Eddie?”

The brunette looked over his shoulder towards the back door, “He’ll be in soon, he’s in the car blowing his nose.”

Robin held up a hand as if to stop him, “But he’s not sick.” She said sarcastically.

Steve joined the joke, “No, definitely not.”

Just then, the bell above the back door chimed, the man himself walking in, scrubbing at his nose.

“Morning Ed-” Chrissy started.

Eddie turned to the side, collar of his doctors’ coat pulled over his face.

“Hih’NxxT! NxxxT! Ngtsch!! snlrff Morning…”

“Bless you.” The blonde offered softly.

Robin stared at him and then turned back to Chrissy and Steve, “Looks like I’m not the only one who feels like they got hit by a bus…”

Steve waited until Eddie had disappeared to his office, “Yeah, he wo’t admit it but he really isn’t feeli’g well today.”

“I can tell.” Chrissy frowned, concerned at the state of her friends.

Robin rubbed at her temples and glanced at the clock, “Ughhh… I gotta go open the front.”

She trudged off to unlock the door and turn on the tv, every small sound adding to her pounding headache.

In walked one Mrs.Holloway, an elderly woman whom everyone adored.

“Hello darling.” She greeted as she signed in on the sheet.

“Hi Mrs.Holloway!” Robin tried to be as faux energetic as she could. She grabbed the thermometer gun and held it up to the woman, “Just have to scan ya real quick! How are you?”

“Just peachy! Doctor Munson is going to make sure I’m A-OK for my operation next month!”

“Aw, lovely! I’m sure you’ll pass his tests with flying colors.” Robin smiled, scribbling the temperature reading on the top of the chart.

“I sure hope so, dear. Do I owe you anything for today?”

Robin looked at the chart and her insurance notes from yesterday, “Nope! Looks like your insurance covered everything today. Steve will be right with you.”

The woman smiled and went to sit down as Robin pushed herself up from her desk. When she brought back the chart, Nancy and Billy had arrived as well.

“Oooh, you don’t look good.” Nancy noted.

“Don’t feel good…” Robin mumbled back.

Billy scowled, “You and Harrington are sick?”

“And Eddie.” Robin said, holding a finger up.

“I’m not -” Eddie quickly brought a hand up, pinching his nose closed, “Nxxxt! HixxxT! Ixtsch’EW!! - n’dot sick!”

He sniffled soupily, wiping his hand on his pants. Billy watched the display in disgust.

“Very convincing argument, Munson. I hope you guys feel better soon-”

Robin almost thought Billy was going to say something nice, but then he kept talking.

“-because that’s was fucking disgusting.”

“Hey, behave Billy. He’s sick.” Nancy scolded.

“I’m not -! Never mind…” Eddie mumbled.

“Sick or not, your first patient is here.” Robin held up the chart and put it on Steve’s desk before retreating to her space.

Steve took the chart and smiled, he loved Mrs.Holloway as much as the next person. She was here checking a couple small things before Eddie could approve her for a surgery she was scheduled to get in the month to come.

Steve had opted for wearing a mask when he took her back, taking her vitals and setting her up in a room. He placed her chart in the hanging pouch on the door and flicked one of the plastic flags to let Eddie know she was ready for him.

---

Eddie had skimmed over the notes on Mrs.Holloway’s digital chart before he stood up to head into her exam room.

Steve came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I know you’re not sick, but she’s pre-op and old. Maybe wear this?”

He was holding up a disposable mask, which Eddie took, looping it around his ears. “Thanks Stevie.”

The younger man nodded, and headed back to his desk, Eddie flicking a different flag outside exam room 1 and knocking gently before entering.

Eddie hated admitting to illness in front of his colleagues and friends, but behind closed doors with patients, he was okay being vulnerable. It showed them that he was human too and that they shouldn’t be scared.

“Hi Mrs.Holloway!” He sang, then gesturing to the mask, “I’m a little sick this week, I hope you don’t mind…”

The woman was sitting on the exam bed, “Oh heavens no, sweetheart. It happens to the best of us.”

Eddie smiled under his mask, opening her chart and pulling out some papers. He hopped up onto the counter to sit opposite her, something he liked to do with his more casual patients.

“So - snf - your tests look great! Steve did the EKG last week and it snFF came back totally normal. You passed the stress test with flying colors!” He raised up his left hand and moved it from right to left, for effect.

The woman smiled, pleased with the positive news.

“Your labs were also good.” Eddie started to feel a tickle building in his sinuses. Not now. “Your cholesterol was snff a little bit high again, but it is within range snfSNFF so I’m not too concerned…”

Even with the mask, he turned to the side, bringing his elbow up to shield himself.

“Heh’iNgxxT! NxxT! … H’iKSHh’IEW!”

“Bless you sweetie!”

The last sneeze had been more productive than he’d expected, and he could feel the mess trailing down his top lip under the mask.

He held a hand to his chest, “Excuse mbe! Umm as I was sayi’g before, everythi’g looks great. Unless you have any concer’ds, Steve will take a uri’de sambple and you’re free to go.”

Thankfully, she had no concerns at the moment. Eddie let her know that Steve would be in to walk her to the patient restroom shortly.

She thanked him and he left as casually as he could, but as soon as the door closed behind him he beelined for the staff restroom. His nose was still tingling and he felt disgusting.

Once he was in the bathroom, he unlooped one ear and removed his mask, two tendrils of mess connecting it still to his face.

He crumpled the mask and threw it away, reaching for toilet paper as the prickling intensified. He pressed the paper to his nose as he exploded with relief.

“Hi’TSSCHew! Hhh - eh’KSSH iKSSH!… Heh’iKSHh’IEW”

He paused for a moment, waiting to see if any more sneezes would come. When they didn’t, he sat on the closed toilet seat and pulled more toilet paper.

He folded it around his nose and blew softly, grimacing at how much mucus he produced anyways. Throwing away that one, he grabbed some more tissue and blew again.

Once he was sure his head was empty for the time being, he got up and washed his hands, unhappy with how red and chapped his nose already was.

This was going to be a really long day.

---

The rest of the morning was slow luckily. Robin leaned her head back into the file cubbies, closing her eyes in hope that it would relieve her headache.

“snlrff Hey Birdie.”

She lifted her head and cracked open one eye. Eddie was standing above her, rubbing his nose. He pulled up a chair next to her and straddled it.

“Hey Doc.” Her energy was sapped and he could tell.

“Sorry Steve got you sick.” He folded his arms atop the back of the chair and rested his head on them.

“I could say the same to you.” She joked.

“I-”

“Oh sorry sorry I forgot doctors don’t get sick.” She quickly backtracked, grinning slightly.

“No, I was just gonna say. snf you were right. This is…awful.”

He quickly turned to the side, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

“H’iKSHh’iew! ih’KSSH, ksssh! Snrdff H’eksssh’IEW!”

“Bless you! Geez…”

When his arm lingered in front of his face, Robin quickly grabbed the tissue box at her desk and held it out to him. He took a few and turned away to clean himself up, gurgling into the tissue before folding it over and blowing again. She noticed a slight sheen on his forehead when he went to grab a fresh tissue.

Beep.

“What the hell?” He looked up to see Robin holding the thermometer gun to his head.

“101° Doc, no wonder you’re sweating.” She held the thermometer as if it were a smoking gun and fake blew on it.

“Hey, gimme that.” He swiped it and turned it on her. Scanning her forehead as well.

Beep.

“100.2.” He whistled, smiling at her, indulging in this little joke of hers.

“Oh yeah, very mature, Doctor Rockstar…”

“AESSSSSH!! ISSSSH! TISSH! SNF What are you guys doing??” Steve asked, fixing his glasses. He had walked up as they were fighting over the thermometer gun.

Eddie and Robin both laughed. “Being chaotic again I guess.” He said as he stood up.

The long haired man grabbed a cough drop from the bowl on Robin’s desk. “I’m taking one of these.”

As Eddie went back to his office, Steve approached Robin with an outpatient chart. “Got him to admit it?”

“Yep! Turns out all it takes to get him to admit it is a thermometer gun and a few messy sneezes.”

Despite both of them being drained of energy, the two best friends high-fived before returning to their respective jobs.

*****

Thursday, October 20

Eddie woke up early, his shirt damp with sweat. He felt worse today - aches, chills, headache, the whole nine yards.

He started getting dressed for the day, swapping out his usual doctors coat for a long sleeve waffle knit shirt and scrubs.

“H’igkt’CHEW! Issh’EW! Tsch’IEW!”

“Bless you.” Steve emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his own scrubs.

“Than’gks. SNF.”

He watched as a shiver wracked Eddie’s body. The younger man approached and placed the back of his hand to Eddie’s forehead.

“You should call out today.”

“Mbe? What about you??”

“I feel a little better today.” Steve shrugged, “You on the other hand… you’re rocking that high fever, babe.”

Eddie held up the rock n roll hand.

“That’s,” Steve sighed, “that’s not what I meant.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just take some Tylenol or something.” He stood up, pulling on his scrub pants and grabbing a jacket.

“You sure?”

“If anythi’g changes I’ll let you know. Promise.”

---

Thursday mornings were usually reserved for ten-minute staff meetings in the back room. They all arrived at the same time of 7:15 or earlier, and the clinic wouldn’t open until about 7:30.

When Eddie and Steve arrived, it was a sorry state to behold. Chrissy was sat at her spot between Nancy and Steve’s desk, with her head resting in her arms. Nancy was coughing into a tissue, and Robin was laying across Steve’s desk with her eyes closed.

“Jesus H Christ, what happened to all of you?”

Robin sat up, opening her eyes again, “Steve.”

Eddie turned to the man in question, who had blushed and suddenly looked very guilty.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Lunch is on me tomorrow. I’ll order everyone soup.”

“Why don’t we just make it a sick person’s potluck?” Eddie asked, coughing into his shoulder.

“I can pick up teas for everyone tomorrow morning.” Chrissy offered, “My throat is killing me so I was going to go anyways.”

“My cough drops are still up for grabs too.” Robin noted, Nancy perking up a little.

“Sounds like a plan then.” Nancy smiled, “Are we all sick?”

“Everyone except Billy…” Robin rolled her eyes.

The bell in the back rang.

“Speak of the devil.” Eddie mumbled.

When he walked in, everyone stared. He was late for the meeting as usual.

“What??” He snapped.

“Nothing, just. Nice of you to join us.” Nancy bit the bullet.

“On a scale of one to ten - one being the worst and ten being great - how does everyone feel today?” Eddie asked.

There was a pause while everyone seemed to think about it.

Steve held up a 7, Nancy a 5, Chrissy a 4 and Robin a 3. Billy, rolling his eyes, held up a 10 to match Eddie’s 3.

Billy glanced at the numbers everyone else was holding up. “Seriously?? What do I always tell you Harrington?”

Steve didn’t like being roped into Billy’s shit belief system, but responded anyways. “You always say that this line of work isn’t for the weak.”

“Exactly!” Billy scoffed.

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Maybe if we do a rotational so everyone gets one break to nap or relax today. Nance and I can cover for one another. Steve and Chrissy. Birdie, I know there’s only one of you but I’m certain Stevie can hold down the fort for half an hour.”

Steve nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

“This is so stupid.” Billy grumbled as he walked off to his office.

---

For the most part, nap rotations went well. Almost everyone had gotten their 30-minute rest break in. Currently, Eddie was in his office on his break, resting in the couch.

Steve had come to tell Eddie they needed him back, but stopped when he realized Eddie was sweating again, bangs sticking slightly to his forehead.

The younger man approached and knelt down, resting a hand against his cheek. He felt warmer than this morning.

Without rousing Eddie, Steve stopped by Robin’s desk.

“Hey Robs, can I borrow that thermometer gun really quickly? I think Eddie’s taking a turn for the worse.”

“Yeah sure.” She handed the device over to Steve who made his way back to his partner’s office.

He held the device close to Eddie’s head and pressed the button. Beep. The little screen on the back lit up, a big 102° staring him in the face.

“Shit Eddie, wake up.” Steve started to gently shake him awake.

His eyes fluttered open, bright with fever. “Nap time over?” He asked.

“It was, but Eddie you have a crazy high fever. You gotta take something for that.”

Steve started opening Eddie’s desk drawers. He knew the man kept a personal stash of Tylenol in here.

“You’re asking me to do drugs?” Eddie attempted a joke. He held his hand out, palm-up, as Steve handed him two pills. “I’ll try anything at this point. I feel like garbage.”

“Geez Eddie. I have one more thing we can do that’ll hopefully get you through the next couple hours.”

Eddie nodded and leaned back against the couch again, closing his eyes. When Steve came back he had some supplies with him.

He rolled up Eddie’s long sleeve and snapped on some gloves. Opening an alcohol pad, he carefully cleaned the inner crook of Eddie’s left arm. He used a rubber strap to tie off above the elbow and waited for the vein to emerge.

“Don’t move.” He mumbled, starting an IV line for Eddie.

Once it was taped and the needle was out, Steve hung a banana bag on a mobile IV pole that they kept in storage.

“Got me the good stuff, did you?” Eddie stared vacantly as the bag dripped slowly.

“It’ll help you feel a little better. Give it a few minutes. I’ll let Nancy know. Maybe she can take your next patient.”

Steve threw away his gloves and went to go wash his hands. Eddie lay there, arm extended as the bag worked it’s magic. He must’ve fallen asleep again because he was next being woken up by the beeping of that damn thermometer gun.

“Steve? What time ‘sit.”

“It’s been an hour or so. Nancy took care of the last two patients. She said you needed to rest.”

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face. “Christ Stevie, you were supposed to wake me up so I could finish work.”

“It’s okay, you can take over now if you want. Nancy can take her break. It’s working though!” He flipped the thermometer gun around so he could see it.

Eddie squinted, trying to make out the numbers past his foggy head. “100.9°”

“Not great, but a lot better.” Steve offered a smile, happy that Eddie seemed to be feeling a little better after.

“Ughh, can you take this outta me Steve?” He gestures to the IV line.

Steve nodded, helping his boyfriend so they could finish up their shift.

*****

Friday, October 21

Chrissy waited at the pick-up counter of the local coffee shop. She’d ordered five hot teas with honey and lemon for everyone at the clinic.

“For Chrissy?” The barista called out.

Chrissy stepped forward, “Thank you so much!”

She picked up the drink tray that carefully balanced all five paper cups and coughed into her shoulder. She balanced the tray on the top of her car as she unlocked it and got the passenger seat ready.

Once she’d strapped the drinks in for the short five minute drive, she started the car and left for the clinic.

She was the last to arrive, but was still on time. Billy was tired of their antics and holed himself in his office, pricklier than normal.

She entered the staff break room and laughed. She gently set the tray down on the table that was host to Robin’s candy bowl of cough drops.

“Morning everyone! Tea is here!”

“Thanks Chrissy!”

They all grabbed a cup, Steve grabbing one for Eddie as well. Nancy especially, sipped greedily for relief.

Eddie was at the counter messing with something, he swiveled around holding up a hefty disposable plate like it was a serving tray. On it, he balanced five small paper cups that came from the water cooler.

“Who’s ready for shots?” He asked, jokingly. “It’s DayQuil - doctor’s orders.”

Robin was feeling much better than the last few days and swiped a small cup, handing one to Steve. Nancy and Chrissy both set down their teas and traded it for a little shot of DayQuil.

When there was only one cup left on the “tray”, Eddie set the plate down and took it.

“Alright, bottoms up.”

They all exchanged a glance and knocked back their respective shots of DayQuil, reaching for the tea to wash it down.

“This stuff always tastes awful.” Robin shuddered.

Eddie laughed, reaching out to fist bump her, “Let’s kick some ass today, yeah?”

Robin stood tall and jokingly saluted Eddie, making her way off to her desk. As usual, she unlocked the front door and made sure the tv was locked onto the cooking channel.

The door opened while she was still working on the tv. “Hi there Robin!”

“Hey Mr.Holloway! How are you this fine morning?”

“Doing well! Just here to go over my labs with Dr.Munson!” He made his way to the sign in sheet while Robin entered through the door to the back and resumed her spot at her desk.

He continued, “How are you all doing? Deborah said you were all pretty sick when she came in the other day.”

“Yeah,” Robin nodded, pulling out his chart and starting to scribble on it, “We’re doing much better now, thanks for asking! Think all of us are on the mend finally.”

“That’s what we like to hear.” He smiled.

“So your insurance covers everything today as well. Steve will come get ya soon alright?”

“Thanks Robin!” The man was so happy all the time.

She got up and brought his chart back to Steve. “Mr.Holloway is here. Super happy as usual!”

“Oh good! I’ve missed him.” Steve took the chart and started to write his own notes on it.

---

By 12:20, everyone was gathered in the staff break room again. Steve had just come back in carrying a large paper bag with six cups of soup. He bought one for Billy too just in case he decided to leave his lair and join them for once.

He unpacked the soups and passed them out, Chrissy setting out plastic silverware for everyone. Eddie loved this restaurant because the soup came with little packets of saltine crackers, which they piled in the middle of the table.

“Thanks for the soup Steve.” Chrissy said as she took a bite.

“No problem.” He pushed his glasses a little farther up the bridge of his nose. “Sorry for giving you all the flu.”

“Think we’re all mostly on the tail end of it except maybe Nance.” Robin noted.

Nancy shook her head as she finished chewing, “I’m okay, really. Just feels like a bit of a chest cold.”

“Say what you will, I’m just glad I can breathe through my nose again.” Eddie tossed his hands up in surrender.

“Hey why are there six soups?” Robin pointed at the sealed container in the middle.

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “I uh… got one for Billy in case he wanted it but I haven’t seen him since before lunch.”

“You’re too nice to him, Steven. He’s not in his office?” Eddie asked.

“Nope. I looked.”

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom. The door was closed but I just assumed it was one of you…” Chrissy added.

Eddie hummed thoughtfully and stood up, walking slightly down the hall to the closed staff bathroom door. He knocked gently, “Billy? You in there?”

There was a pause and then a very gruff, “Go…’Way.”

“Well are you decent??” Steve asked. He’d followed Eddie, the girls standing back, just in the doorway of the kitchen.

“…Yes.”

“I’m coming in.”

Eddie cautiously turned the door handle and was met with a sour smell. Billy was knelt on the floor, mullet sticking to his neck with sweat. He leaned over the toilet and retched.

Eddie gagged audibly and turned around, fist to his mouth, “STEVE!”

“Jesus Christ…” Steve sidestepped Eddie, who made his way back to the girls.

Eddie swallowed as Robin ushered him back into the kitchen, “Sorry, I don’t do vomit.” He whispered.

“I know. It’s okay.” Robin laughed at her superior’s visceral reaction.

Back in the restroom, Steve was awkwardly hovering over Billy, the man who bullied him daily.

“Are you…done? You should go home.”

Billy held up a hand and slowly pushed off his knees and stood up shakily, Steve steadying him with a gentle hand.

He was half expecting a gruff “don’t touch me” out of him, but if never came.

Steve knew Billy only lived about five minutes away. He stood there for a few minutes while Billy sat in his car.

“Can you drive?”

“Yes I can drive, Harrington.” He was trying to be mean, but it was hard to take him seriously when he had puke in his hair.

After a few more minutes, Steve felt comfortable letting him drive home. Once Billy was gone, he went back to the staff room where the girls were finishing their soup.

Eddie was a little pale and was holding a emesis bag just in case. Chrissy had one arm around him, rubbing his back.

“Don’t know how you guys can eat after that…” he mumbled.

“Because I’m hungry and there’s only five minutes left of lunch.” Robin downed the rest of her soup and then headed back to unlock the door and start checking in the afternoon patients. She’d have to rearrange the schedule a little bit since Billy left.

---

“This has to have been one of the worst weeks.” Eddie muttered as they all made their way out of the building at the end of the day.

“Yeah. I mean. Jesus. Thank goodness we had Chrissy with us though!” Robin have the blonde a squeezing hug from behind.

“I’m so sad to go back to my normal clinic next week! But it’s truly been an experience here, guys.” She chuckled, also thinking back on the hellish week.

“You guys wanna come over for drinks later?” Steve asked.

“I have a date with a bubble bath and a movie.” Nancy said, “Thank you though.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to pass unfortunately. Gonna get some extra sleep before next week.” Chrissy agreed.

“Robs?”

“Mmmmm yeah sure. I will be drinking my weight in Eddie’s mojitos though.”

Steve chuckled. “You can spend the night if you want. We have a very nice couch.”

“Hmm, deal! I’ll come over later.”

*****

Monday, October 24

Monday came way too soon for everyone. Chrissy was back at her usual clinic, which meant it was a little extra boring for Robin.

She’d spent her weekend third wheeling Steve and Eddie and then binge watching Bake Off at her own apartment on Sunday. Nancy and the boys had taken their free time and used it for some solid rest to sleep off whatever was left of the flu that had terrorized them.

Nancy was standing at her desk, typing at the computer before the doors opened when Steve and Eddie showed up. They were laughing about something silly Steve had said on the drive over from their place.

“Hey Nance!”

“Morning Nancy.”

“Hey guys!”

Robin heard them arrive and sauntered over. “Hello boys. Notice anything…different about today?”

“Ummm we’re not all dying?” Eddie asked.

“Nope!”

“Chrissy is gone and it’s boring again?” Steve tried.

“True. But wrong again.” She paused for effect before leaning in and telling them all, “Billy’s not here.”

“Billy’s always late.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“No no no. You misunderstood me.” She said.

Eddie’s eyes got hug with curiosity, as did Nancy’s.

“He called out. He’s still super sick.”

“Oh. My. God.” Steve tried to stop a smile from creeping on his face. He didn’t want to be happy that Billy was sick, but god did he have it coming.

“You’re joking.” Eddie accused.

“I’m not. He called me when I got here and said he’s not coming. He feels like… a lot of words I can’t say… and he’ll be back maybe Wednesday.”

“Well shit. He was right…” Steve began.

“Right about what?” Eddie asked.

Steve looked at Robin and Nancy who caught on right away. All at the same time they said,

“This job isn’t for the weak.”

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