#but I haven’t been outside since Thursday and it’s currently Monday evening
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animazed · 2 years ago
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big accomplishment of the day. went outside while it was still kind of light of.
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discokicks · 1 year ago
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BOLT FROM THE BLUE - ROY KENT.
PART ONE of ACES AT THE WATER'S EDGE.
(series masterlist!) (series playlist!) (AO3!)
pairing: roy kent x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)
summary: with the departure of afc richmond’s wonderkid, the club is desperately on the hunt for a new coach. luckily for them, you’ve just been wrongfully terminated from your position over at west ham. however, with your outlook on the football world tainted and massive hesitation due to your past with a particular member of their coaching staff, you’re less than convinced about the job. but, that same member may just be the one to convince you.
word count & rating: 8.7k, R (too many roy kent 'fucks' to be pg-13)
chapter warnings: whole lotta swearing (it’s a roy kent fic, do i even have to say it?), talk of workplace misconduct, allusions to (no descriptions of) sexual harassment, roy and the reader are long-lost bickering, angsty enemies with a past, reader is a former team usa player and present coach, author is american (sorry </3)
author’s note! hello hello. so happy to have you here. welcome to my first tumblr fic. certainly not my first fic ever, but first fic on here! hooray! for the sake of this fic, we’re going to pretend like the coaching career of the reader is actually possible in the current misogynistic world football climate. it’ll be fun to fantasize. also, this takes place in s3, and reader is earlyish/midish thirties. also also, i know next to nothing about football/soccer and haven’t played since i was 10, but i’m doing my research! hope you enjoy and love u all tons. -mags
PRESENT DAY. (AUGUST 2023)
Your ex-boss's ex-wife is currently standing outside of your apartment and somehow, that’s not the most surprising thing to happen this week.
While yes, of course, seeing Rebecca Walton on your front steps at nine-thirty on a Thursday morning is shocking, the numbness that’s been coursing through your body since Monday takes some of the edge off.
She’s right before you, clutching her purse tightly, dressed in a fitted trench coat and aggressively expensive heels. Everything about her contrasts the four-sizes-too-big sweatshirt you’re sporting with the age-old pajama shorts with embroidered soccer balls that you’ve been rotting away in for the last three days. When your eyes finally meet once more and you see she’s been sizing you up just as you’ve been doing to her, she plasters on a wide, practiced smile.
“Hello,” Rebecca says. Her smile doesn’t falter.
You blink at her. “Hi.”
She motions to your door and you feel your hand tighten on the knob. “May I come in?”
Your lips part in a way that you’re sure makes you look like a moron. “Like, into my house?” you ask, head whipping to look at the current warzone state of your living room.
Rebecca’s smile gets slightly more genuine. “If that’s alright?”
The shock of her standing before you seems to have worn off, because you find yourself shutting the door slightly. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“It’s nothing—”
“Look, if you’re here to get me to talk to that Independent journalist who’s called me like, three times asking for a perspective on Rupert for his book or whatever, I’m really not interested.” Your frustration is clearly peaking through your typically reserved manner, and frankly, you’re not in any mood to mask it.
She doesn’t seem to mind. “Who? Trent?” You nod at Rebecca’s furrowed brows. “Oh God, no. We barely want him writing that thing anyway.”
Well, okay. “Then why—”
Rebecca motions to the door again. “May I?”
You suppose if she’s being so insistent about entering your home, it’s her funeral. You step back to allow her in, and the second she sees your living room, she seems to regret it. When she turns to face you, you can’t help the way your brows shoot up, everything about your demeanor saying I told you so. “The kitchen’s cleaner,” you tell her, nodding in its direction.
“Wonderful,” she says as she follows you through the hall. Her next question is hesitant. “So, is all this—”
“The result of getting fired on Monday?” you finish for her, turning to meet her gaze as you stand at your counter. Her eyes read pity and part of you already wants to kick her out. The other part of you wants to hug her. “Yeah. Things, uh…”
As you trail off, you realize something. That thing in her eyes isn’t pity. It’s empathy. Rebecca, more than anyone, knows Rupert. She knows how much of an asshole he is. She knows how special he can make you feel, only to have the rug ripped out from under you moments later. She knows what it feels like to be wronged by him. She knows.
Through your silence, you think she recognizes the sudden shift in tension as your expression morphs into something less hard, and you allow yourself a moment of vulnerability. “Things haven’t been great over here.”
Any sort of practice in Rebecca’s smile completely fades and is replaced with something more compassionate. “I can only imagine.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. While the initial discomfort has passed, the awkwardness still lingers and you realize that you have literally no idea why she’s in your apartment. “Can I… offer you coffee? Or, uh, tea?” you ask.
“Oh, no,” she replies. “Thank you though.”
“You sure?” you try again. “I taught myself how to make an insane shaken espresso during my ACL recovery. Mastered it over the years.”
“Mastered it?”
You shrug. “It was either that or alcoholism. Chose the path less traveled by most washed-up athletes.”
Rebecca’s lips twitch upward. “Oh, what the hell. Why not?”
“Great,” you say, turning to your cabinet to grab your bag of coffee beans. Now for the moment of truth. “And while I get that together…” You stand on your tiptoes to reach the bag. “You’ve gotta tell me what you’re doing here.”
For a moment, you think she’s going to feed you some joke or some bullshit answer. You glance over your shoulder to watch her mouth even open to do so. But she suddenly decides against it.
And you drop the bag of coffee beans and have to stabilize yourself against the counter as she says, “I’m here to offer you a job.”
A job? She wants to give you a job at Richmond? She can’t be serious. Out of all the things that floated through your mind when you opened the door, this was the last thing you thought possible. A job. She’s here to offer you a job.
It has to be a pity offer. That’s where the pity of it all went. But no one knows about what actually happened, you remind yourself. She just knows you were suddenly let go. Well, then it’s just a revenge offer. Some petty thing to get back at Rupert. As much as you want to think that you’d be on board with that, you had no interest in being some sort of piece in the game.
You’re staring blankly at Rebecca as your mind goes to war, certain that you look like even more of an idiot than you did when you let her in. There’s a small pool of coffee beans sitting on your counter. But you can’t find it in you to care. A job. She’s here to offer you a job.
Rebecca suddenly clears her throat. “Is everything alri—”
“Why the fuck do you want to give me a job?” Is what comes out of your mouth, head too far gone to consider a filter. A smirk appears on her face at your words. “Sorry, I just… I don’t get it.”
She looks at you for a moment, taking a solemn pause to evaluate exactly what it is she wants to say. Her eyes flash to your embroidered soccer shorts peeking out from beneath your sweatshirt, then to the plethora of sport-themed mugs hanging beneath the cabinets in your kitchen, then to the framed photo you keep on the wall of your team’s 2015 World Cup win.
“Because,” she finally lands on, “when I see that the new, passionate, wildly qualified West Ham coach is suddenly fired less than two months after she begins, seemingly out of nowhere…” It’s her turn to trail off, and she shrugs. “Something tells me it wasn’t just leadership differences.”
You look away from her as she drops the famous press-release line. Discomfort floods your body as you remember Rupert’s smarmy smile when he asked for your badge. “No,” you say softly. “It wasn’t.”
Rebecca nods, as if her suspicions were confirmed. “Now, I don’t know what happened,” she tells you, “and I don’t expect to know. But as I said, you’re wildly qualified. You were a remarkable talent on the field and more so as a coach. Four Uni championships in a six-year career isn’t just impressive, it’s unheard of.”
You pause your coffee bean cleanup at that. Your brows shoot up and a wry smile crosses your lips. “You know my college coaching stats?”
Rebecca stares at you for a moment. Then, “Not until this week,” she admits quickly, forcing you to bite back a laugh. “But my coaching staff knew. Sang your praises.”
A pit forms in your stomach as you realize exactly who’s a part of that staff. Bull-fucking-shit he sang your praises. You think you’d despise him more if he had.
Attempting to brush off your sudden uneasiness, you try your hand at a joke while measuring out the beans. “Well, two-thirds of them are American, so I guess that makes sense.”
Rebecca chuckled. “Well, Roy Kent doesn’t say much of anything, but you did get a—’” She cuts herself off to make an affirmative-sounding grunt. You’re so thrown off by this that you almost forget to smile at her impression of him. “Which, you know, is about as close to singing as he gets.”
That it is. Because you do know. And that’s Roy code for ‘trying to be normal about this, but dear God, never speak about her to me again.’ You hope the mere mention of your name made him run out of the room. That the idea of you potentially joining the team keeps him up at night.
(The last three days haven’t been good for your dramatics either.)
A sigh escapes your lips and you avert your eyes. There’s an air of embarrassment as you shift uncomfortably. “This is going to be loud, sorry,” you apologize, turning the grinder on. You make a general estimation that this is what your brain would currently sound like if someone decided to listen in. After a moment, the machine turns off, but you don’t turn back to Rebecca. “Would this be a coaching offer?”
“I wouldn’t want you to be anything else,” Rebecca responds. Her tone shifts slightly as she looks at you. “Unless there’s—”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “There’s nothing else I’d want.” You shift again. “I just…”
Rebecca watches as you trail off. You still haven’t looked at her, focused solely on your espresso task at hand. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she arrived at your home, but it certainly wasn’t this. Every time she’d seen you, whether it was on the field, blowing past defenders with impossible efficiency, or coaching your college girls in a way that commanded respect despite the seemingly ever-present smile on your face, there’d always been this confidence about you.
An admirable sense of ego. A love and passion for the game that made every young girl want to wear the number 14. A spirit that made everyone look upon you fondly. A pleasure to be around, and an honor to work with.
Rebecca was now staring at what she presumed to be the shell of the woman she’d heard about. A woman distracting herself from the discomfort of this conversation with coffee-making, afraid of her own shadow. And as you spoke, she knew her assumptions were correct.
“Listen,” you manage to get out. You’ve already tamped the grounds and had returned to the big, fancy espresso machine bought for you long ago by a former friend. “I appreciate you coming over here, but…”
“But?” Rebecca questions.
The words feel dry in your mouth and you have to push them out. “I think I’m done with it.”
It’s Rebecca’s turn to blink at you dumbly. “Done with what?” she asks. “With coaching?”
Shame floods your body. “With soccer,” you reply weakly. That look remained on Rebecca’s face. “Football. Whatever. Whatever you want to call it, I’m done with it.” You turn to stable yourself on the countertop once more as the coffee begins to brew. “It’s just— I’ve spent the majority of my life doing this one thing. I’ve done the Olympic gold thing, I’ve won a World Cup, I’ve won college championships, I’ve been…” Your eyes shut, shoulders sagging. “I’ve just been. And I thought I could go a step further. Break a ceiling or whatever. I thought I was ready for it. And then everything I’ve worked for is fucking destroyed by some douchebag, diva athlete who doesn’t know how to keep his dick in his—”
You raise your hand to your mouth as if that’ll keep it all in, and you realize you’re shaking. You don’t have to turn around to know how Rebecca’s looking at you. “So, yeah,” you finish lamely. “I’m done. It was ruined for me. And I don’t want to go back.”
Rebecca says nothing for a long while. Taking everything you said in, drawing her conclusions, whatever. You grip the granite countertop and it feels cool beneath your fingers. Your eyes open when you finally hear her respond.
“You’re letting him win,” she tells you, voice soft. Slightly broken. Like she knows the feeling.
When you do turn back to her, Rebecca’s sitting at your breakfast bar with her hands folded together, anger poorly concealed. But it’s not anger at you, it’s just anger.
But then you start to feel angry. “I’m not letting him win,” you insist.
“You are,” she replies. Before you can let your temper get the best of you, she continues. “They’re calling you emotional, you know? They’re saying that the ’leadership problems’ were you just being abrasive. Joking that they should have never let a woman into the league because of the drama. Apparently, women can’t handle AFC-level coaching.”
You swallow. “I know,” you say. “I’ve seen it.”
“Who do you think’s pushing that narrative?” she asks.
It’s a rhetorical question, but you still feel like giving an answer. “Basement-dwelling losers who barely made their intramural leagues?”
It’s then that Rebecca smiles for real. It’s like she’s seen a flash of the woman she’s heard about and she couldn’t be more pleased. She makes a noise of agreement, then continues. “This is what he wants. He wants you to feel like this. He wants you to quit.” Her gaze bores into yours with an intensity that doesn’t allow you to look away. “If you give it all up, he wins. He beats you and he’s got another name under his belt. He doesn’t deserve your name.” Rebecca’s index finger jabs in your direction. “Don’t allow him to fucking win.”
The passion in her words is what gets you. Your throat clenches as you feel your eyes start to burn, knowing that everything she said had some amount of truth in it. There’s a frustration that rises in your chest that you don’t know how to handle.
You were letting him win. He took away your career and then threatened your reputation. He made you take the blame for everything. He allowed this to be ruined for you and played an active part in ensuring it. And here you were, cowering in fear at the notion of this small man.
She’s right, and the espresso has finished brewing.
You know she’s right. Rebecca knows she’s right. So, as you stand in your kitchen, fighting an inward battle that’s got you on the verge of tears, your scared, stupid, frustrated little brain can only think of one more thing to say as you pour the coffee over ice.
“Even if you were right—” you begin, not ready to admit that just yet, “—even if you were, and even if I did want to join Richmond, I refuse to work with Roy Kent.”
This takes Rebecca completely by surprise. She shifts back in her chair, eyes wide despite the drawing of her brows. “R-Roy?” she sputters. “Our Roy Kent?”
The word our tells you that he’s been embraced by the club and isn’t going anywhere. Not that you had expected him to. He’d clearly nested well into the team and had taken his coaching position in stride. Just like you said he would years ago.
“Yeah,” you say shortly. “That one.”
Rebecca’s expression remains the same. ”But he’s… I—” She cuts herself off with a question. “—but why?”
A mirthless grin crosses your lips, head shaking like you don’t have the energy to get into it all. “That’s an answer you should probably hear from him.”
Rebecca looks as though she’s trying to make sense of all of this. You want to wish her luck. Because you’ve been doing the same thing for eight years. “I understand he can be a bit… coarse. And intimidating. And hot-headed. But he really is—”
“I don’t care what he is,” you tell her with the most polite, tight-lipped smile you can muster up. “I know who he was. And I’m not interested in working with him.” The words leave your mouth with a bit more venom than anticipated and guilt floods your body. “But thank you for the offer.”
The Richmond owner continues to stare at you while you shake the coffee, still puzzled, but slowly coming to the realization that she’s not going to change your mind. At least not now. Maybe not ever.
She figures that trying to convince you to do anything would be pointless. Your stubbornness had made you a star on the field and had clearly transferred off of it. She supposed it made sense that you and Roy had apparently butted heads.
So, reading the room, Rebecca nods at you and stands from the stool behind your breakfast bar. “Alright,” she says, a somber, apologetic smile on her face. “Message received. Loud and clear.” You watched as she turned and began to fumble inside her purse, placing a white card on the bar when she’d found it. “But… please. Consider it. The offer’s good for the next couple of days. And I… I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think that you’d be an asset to our team. I truly mean that.”
There’s a genuine lilt in her voice that makes you believe her. Whether or not this was a pity offer, or if she just want to scoop you up to get back at Rupert, she really did want you with the team. You’re rational enough to know that there’s some merit in that.
“Thank you,” you say again, offering a truer smile this time around. You hold up the espresso. “Now, do you have a milk preference? Because I’ve got them all.”
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Rebecca Walton left your apartment with the best fucking shaken espresso she’s ever had in her life and a phone held up to her ear.
“Hi, babes,” greeted the voice on the other line, cheery as ever. “I can’t remember the last time you called me this early. Not that I’m complain—”
Rebecca abruptly cut off her friend’s rambling by saying your name. “How the fuck does she know Roy and why the fuck is he the reason she won’t work for Richmond?”
Uncharacteristically, Keeley Jones went silent. Rebecca heard the static from the other end. And then, very quiet, and wildly serious, Keeley said, “Oh, fuck.”
The words made Rebecca stop in her tracks in the middle of the street. “What?”
“You want her to be the new Richmond coach?” Keeley asked, sounding a whole lot like she just scrambled to sit up in bed.
“I just left her apartment. She rejected the offer and sent me on my way with the best coffee I’ve ever had in my life,” she replied. “I want to be bitter about it, but it’s too fucking good.”
“Yeah, got it, she’s a fucking barista on top of being an Ace.” Rebecca wanted to ask about how frantic her best friend is right now, but didn’t get the chance. “Did Roy know you were doing this? Asking her, I mean?”
“He did. I asked him about her,” Rebecca answered. “And he grunted at me. Generally, that’s Roy Kent for ‘go on with it.’”
“Oh, that stupid, fucking self-sabotaging prick,” Keeley muttered. “Of-fucking-course he did. Put yourself in this kind of situation instead of dealing with your emotions like a normal fucking human, good on you, Roy—”
“Keeley.” The rambling stopped once more. “What happened?”
The other line was momentarily silent. Then Keeley sighed, long and heavy. “Well, I don’t know it all,” she began. Her voice was soft. “But I know they knew each other a while back. Like ten years ago, when they were both still playing.” Keeley sighed once more. “But he said he, uh… apparently fucked her over somehow. Didn’t get into it or say what he did, but I think it was pretty bad. And then she got back at him for it and fucked him over. And it… really messed him up. Like, totally broke his heart.”
Rebecca stepped out of the way of someone passing by. “Broke his heart?” she asked, eyes closing at the implication of that. “Were they—”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say. He wasn’t exactly open about it. Which I thought was weird because he became pretty open about everything else,” Keeley said. “All I know is that whatever it was, it ended ugly. And that they haven’t spoken to each other since.”
Whatever Rebecca had been expecting, it surely wasn’t that. “Oh,” she said lightly.
Keeley hummed in uncomfortable agreement. “Maybe I’m reading too far into it,” she continued. “Maybe it wasn’t like that. But, he… never talked about anyone like that. Or, y’know, refused to talk about anyone like that. And you know Roy.” Rebecca said nothing, leaving Keeley to ask the million-dollar question. “Are you sure you want to follow through with this?”
“I want her. She’s the only feasible prospect I’ve liked who hasn’t been a fucking twat so far.” Rebecca’s voice was sure. Final. “And I won’t allow for another woman to be quietly taken down because of Rupert. Especially not if what I think happened actually did happen.”
“Well, then babe,” Keeley said, “I think you might need to have a chat with your coaches.”
Then, as Rebecca stood on the edge of the sidewalk, picturing the look on her coaches’ faces as she prepared to integrate Roy Kent, the gravity of the situation hit her like a freight train. “Oh, fuck.”
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“ROY FUCKING KENT!”
The entire locker room froze at the voice of Rebecca Walton echoing down the hall, each click of her heels sounding as dangerous as the next. Immediately, all eyes are were on Roy. From Kitman Will to Coach Ted Lasso himself. Not a word was said and Rebecca’s stomping started to sound like a death march.
But when she rounded the corner into the Coaches’ Office with a fire in her eyes that screamed run; that’s when Roy started to sweat.
Immediately, a million things ran through his mind. He wondered if this was about his break-up with Keeley, then realized that she was the one who wanted a break from him, so Rebecca’s got no reason to be mad about that. Had he said something stupid to a reporter? Been photographed poorly? Did something come up in a tabloid from his past? Roy wished he could identify one singular thing he’d done back then in poor taste, but he had a fucking laundry list.
Beard quickly jumped up from his chair to shut the door to the locker room so that the team couldn’t hear whatever was about to unfold in this godforsaken office, and pulled the blinds too. He heard the beginnings of an objection from the boys as they began to race to the window, and sent them all a look before the shade fell.
Rebecca walked further into the office, eyes never leaving Roy’s. If she weren’t so fucking mad, she figured she’d bask in the fact that she was able to make the great, big, scary Roy Kent nervous, but she was currently seeing red. She decided she’d reflect on that later.
“I had a fascinating conversation this morning with a prospective coach,” she finally said, voice eerily calm. “Your name came up. A lot.”
Roy didn’t dare say a word. He wasn’t even sure if he could. Thankfully, Ted chimed in. “Well, Boss, we’ve got a lot of those. Would you mind narrowing down which one you talked to?”
But Roy doesn’t need it to be narrowed down. There’s only one name that’s been floated around that could possibly have garnered this reaction and level of anger. But his stomach sank further as a wild smile crossed Rebecca’s lips.
“Oh, just our Ace Olympic gold-medalist, World Cup-winning, four-time college coaching champion, West-Ham-hating top prospect,” she said, gaze pinning Roy to the wall. “Who apparently has not only been fucked over by Rupert but has also been fucked over by our own Roy Kent.”
All eyes flashed to Roy in surprise. Rebecca hadn’t been lying. Roy hadn’t objected to her name being considered as seriously as it was, and had given absolutely no indication to anyone in the room that there could potentially be conflict with this hire.
“Oh,” Ted said. “Well, that’s a bit of an issue.”
Roy looked at Rebecca evenly. “What did she say?”
“Nothing,” she replied, knowing that that was the very issue. “She just said she refused to work with you. Told me to ask you for the details.”
Roy nearly scoffed. God, that was really fucking like you, wasn’t it? Somehow making his life harder without scorching him alive, leaving him to be the one to burn himself down. Because you could if you wanted to. You could burn him to the ground if you chose.
(And you had. But he wasn’t sure what was stopping you from doing it again.)
He eyed Rebecca, knowing his boss and the way she thinks. There was a piece of him that was curious as to whether or not she’d drop the bomb in front of Beard and Lasso. “And what did Keeley tell you?”
That seemed to take his boss by surprise for a moment. But, as she caught on, it was made clear that she had the intention of saving his ass. For now. “Nothing that you didn’t tell her yourself,” Rebecca said. “Which was pretty much nothing.”
That was true too. There wasn’t much he hadn’t told Keeley, but he drew the line at you. Not only would Keeley look at him differently if she knew the truth, but you were just… too hard to talk about. Way too hard for him.
Which is why when Rebecca threw her hands up in question, desperation in her eyes as she asks, “So, what the fuck did you do to our prospective coach?”, Roy had to calm himself for a moment.
Between his rapidly increasing heartbeat and freshly clammy hands, Roy knew he had to figure out a way to not appear one hundred percent, completely freaked out about this. Besides his vague talks with Keeley, he can’t remember the last time he spoke about you. In fact, he’s not sure he’d ever spoken about you. And he certainly wasn’t in any headspace to do it now.
So, Roy being who he was, looked at the expectant expressions of his coaching staff (and Trent fucking Crimm, who he still couldn’t believe had managed to weasel his way into the club) and sighed. He knew he couldn’t be as intentionally vague with his explanation, especially now that the careers of those he knew and respected were in the mix, but he sure as hell was going to try.
“We—” Roy’s voice came out gruff and he cleared his throat with the roll of his eyes. “We knew each other a while back. I met her at the London Olympics. We were… fucking friends. For a while. And then we weren’t.” Roy shrugged, as if that would get rid of the discomfort he felt. He still hadn’t made eye contact with anyone. “I did some shit I’m not proud of. I hurt her and then she fucking hurt me. We haven’t talked since.”
Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest. “Exactly how long haven’t you spoken for?”
Exactly? Roy knows exactly how long. He could tell her the exact fucking day. But that was neither here nor there.
“I don’t know,” he chose to answer. He’d never faked indifference well. “Couple of years? Eight, nine?”
Beard pursed his lips in confusion. “And you didn’t think to… mention this conflict of interest?”
He’d taken the words right out of Rebecca’s mouth. “Or tell me there was an issue so I didn’t look like an idiot?”
“There’s no fucking conflict of interest!” Roy shouted. Rebecca’s brows rose dangerously at the tone and volume of his voice, forcing him to take a moment to collect himself. His voice was more even as he said, “I didn’t fucking say anything because I didn’t think it was important because we’re fucking adults and I didn’t want to be the fucking reason she didn’t—”
Roy’s words died in his throat, chest heaving as he forced himself to stop short. He finally looked up, glancing between his colleagues. He tilted his head back as he realized that each of them were trying to figure out whether or not to believe him.
He was telling the truth. He hadn’t said one lie. They just didn’t get it. And he wouldn’t allow them to get it. Not yet, at least.
“Well,” Rebecca said after a beat, “inadvertently or not, you are the reason she’s not joining the team.”
(Those words alone sting Roy in a way he wasn’t prepared for.)
Rebecca wasn’t done. “But I want her, Roy. More than anyone we’ve seen. She’s the best we’ve had a chance with so far. And if I have to go with another coach or one of those pricks we interviewed because of that?” She shook her head as if the idea repulsed her, then pointed squarely at Roy. “Fix this.”
His jaw went slack. “Fix— How the fuck am I supposed to fix it?”
Roy was shocked to find that Ted had his back. “I’m with Roy on this one, boss,” he said hesitantly. Rebecca blinked at him in surprise. “I want her too. I’m all for having this Ace up our sleeve. But this all seems like a lot to be fixed overnight.”
“Send her flowers, send her a singing telegram, get on your fucking hands and knees and beg— I don’t care how you do it! Just try!” Rebecca’s gaze had turned back to Roy, this time a bit more pleading. “Please. Fix it.”
And with that, Rebecca left the office, leaving two coaches and a journalist staring at Roy Kent.
This was the worst day of his life. It had to be. He’d never prepared himself to see you again because he was convinced that there was no probability it would happen. Selfishly, he’d figured that you coaching here wasn’t a true possibility, not because of any sort of lack of skill, but because some other team would scoop you up. But it was happening. This was a reality and Roy was sure he’d died and finally gone to hell.
And now he was expected to fix this? To interact with you? To potentially see and speak to you again? He was going to fucking throw up.
With this settling in, Roy released a deep, shuddering breath, heartbeat ringing in his ears. “Fuuuuuck,” he muttered, grabbing his keys from his desk and storming out of the room.
And then there were three. Ted broke the silence with a question directed at Trent. “Y'all have singing telegrams over here?”
Trent nodded. “Oh, yes. And I’m sure they’re just as awful as American ones.”
As Ted hummed in agreement, Beard narrowed his eyes at how his best friend’s attention was back on the open laptop in front of him. “You looking up where to get one?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Ted replied, eyes glued to the screen.
Beard got up from his chair. “Move over.”
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Roy Kent is standing on your doorstep, and somehow that’s not the most surprising thing to happen to you all week.
However, you are surprised. So much so that the second you see him, a mix of red-hot anger and panic run through your veins, making you instantly slam the door in his face. Tragically, he’s quick enough to slip his foot between the door and the frame, not allowing you to keep him out. You see him grimace through the slit.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “That’s a fucking heavy door.”
“Yeah?” you ask, continuing to push on the door like a five-year-old. “Surprised your reflexes were fast enough to pull that one off, Grandpa.” You glance down and do the math. “With your bad leg, too. Impressive.”
You see him wince at the pressure. “If you keep pushing on that door, we’re going to have an actual fucking problem.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared,” you reply. “Do I get a headstart when you have to pop the knee back in?”
Roy grunts. “I think it’s fair game with that ACL.”
You push harder on the door.
Roy’s had enough. His weird, Superman strength peaks through as he holds out an arm to push back, making you stumble slightly. “Can you fucking… stop?” His voice strains on that last word, finally opening the door enough to free his foot and keep it open. You know him well enough to know that trying to push back is useless. However, as you hide yourself behind it, your hand remains on the door, just in case.
“How the fuck do you know where I live?”
“I frequent the West Ham directory,” he answers dryly. You move to push on the door once more, but he speaks before you can. “I fucking texted Rebecca. She somehow knew.”
While you were also weirded out about how Rebecca knew your address, her presence was much less off putting than the man’s before you. If he’d texted Rebecca about you, that meant you’d been talked about. Which meant that Rebecca had confronted Roy about your conflict. Which meant that he was here to…
The implication of it unnerves you. But still, you ask, “Why are you here?”
“I just want to talk,” he replies.
You scoff. “Well, we talked. I’m good for another ten years.”
It’s then that he says your name. Your actual name. Not your last name, or your number, or the stupid nickname he used to call you. And it’s said so softly. So much more gentle than you ever remember his voice being. It straight-up ambushes you, and the remainder of the grip you have on the door fades.
“Please,” he says in that same way. “Give me five minutes.” You rest your forehead on the door, wanting nothing more than to shut it in his face again and walk away. “Five minutes, and then you can tell me to fuck off.”
You’re not sure what makes you do it. You’re not sure why your resolve suddenly crumbles and you start to consider his words. Maybe it’s because you’re still surprised to see him. Maybe it’s because you’re exhausted from this last week. Or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last four hours mulling over Rebecca’s offer and have realized you may actually want this.
Whatever it is, you groan dramatically, say something that sounds a whole lot like fine, fucking fine to Roy, and open your door all the way to really look at him for the first time in eight years.
The sight of you seems to catch him as off guard as he does for you. He looks older, years more mature than the last time you saw him. But it’s not just in the face. His entire presence seems matured. Healed. It’s jarring.
He’s well-groomed, a vast contrast to the guy you met back in 2012, but similar to the man you left in 2015. It’s just more so. Everything about him is… more. More well-polished. More striking. The TV spots you’ve seen don’t do him justice.
(You mentally kick yourself for even thinking that and immediately feel like you need to wash your hands.)
The dark Richmond Coaching shirt he wears nearly blends in with his eyes, but you swear they’ve gotten lighter. However, the intensity of his stare hasn’t changed. And that’s the first thing you notice as you realize he’s been doing the same sort of evaluation to you.
However, that stare stays on the stupid embroidered soccer ball shorts you now really wish you’d changed out of after Rebecca had left. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face as he says, “I can’t believe you still have those fucking shorts.”
A sudden, overwhelming feeling of… something washes over you and you can feel tears prick at your eyes. Because you don’t know what to say to that, and because you’re not sure you can respond to that in any sort of way, you cross your arms over your chest. It takes everything in you to keep your gaze on him. “Five minutes,” you tell him.
Roy seems to snap out of whatever headspace he was in, any trace of humor disappearing. Instead, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and clears his throat. He’s standing as if he’s about to make a grand speech, and it leads you to believe he’s rehearsed this. You may have laughed at him if you weren’t anticipating whatever the hell was about to come.
So, as Roy opens his mouth, you brace yourself for impact and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
But nothing seems to come out. He’s stuck there, like he’s frozen in time, as if he’s some sort of animatronic that’s glitching out. You glance around to double-check that the trees on your street are still blowing in the wind.
Your head tilts, and you awkwardly press your lips together. “I think you’ve got four minutes now.”
Roy glares at you. “Can you just fucking—” He cuts himself off, pointing to his G-Wagon that’s parked outside of your apartment. “I spent two fucking hours in that car figuring out how I was going to fucking do this and then another hour outside of your fucking flat trying to work up the nerve to knock on your fucking door, so can you just shut the fuck up?”
Your hands go up in surrender. “Okay, okay,” you say lightly. Then, you mutter, “You just like, gave yourself a time limit and—”
When he grits out your name, you raise your hands higher and shut your mouth.
A good thirty seconds go by before he finally says, “You played for how many years?”
You blink at him. That’s his big opening line? He knows how long you played— “Seven?”
“Yeah, I fucking know you played professionally for seven. How long overall?”
You have to think about it for a moment. “Since I was three,” you answer. “So, twenty-five years.”
“And how long did you coach?”
He knows this too, but you assume he’s doing it to prove a point. “Six,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Six,” he repeats. “That’s over thirty years you’ve devoted your life to football. Three fucking decades. That’s your entire fucking life.”
That same frustration you felt when Rebecca was talking to you this morning rears its ugly head. “What’s your point?”
Roy doesn’t think he could roll his eyes any harder. “My point is,” he says, “you’ve been in this game for three decades. Why?”
“W-why?” you stammer, staring at him like he’s insane. Nobody’s ever asked you that before. “What do you mean why?���
Roy returns the look. “There’s gotta be a reason you’ve been doing this shit for thirty years. Why?”
“I don’t know,” you answer, shaking your head. “Because I’m good at it? Because it’s literally all that I’m good at? Because it’s all that I’ve ever known? I don’t—”
“No,” he says firmly, and for a moment, as he steps forward, you think he’s going to grab you by the shoulders in the way he used to. To get you out of your head and focus on him. Thankfully, he doesn’t. “Fucking nobody does anything for that long just because they’re good at it. That can’t be the only reason.”
As he stares at you expectantly, you start to understand his train of thought. What he’s trying to get you to admit. What all of this has been about since you first kicked a ball at three years old. What allowed you to sport the number 14 for twenty-five years. Because it’s only ever been about one thing, and he, more than anyone, gets it.
So, as your shoulders slouch and your head bows slightly in an annoyed sort of surrender, he knows he’s got you. Roy fucking Kent, anger-management case study and hothead of the millennium, has got you. And he’s showcasing the type of speech and traits and breakthrough abilities that told you eight years ago that he’d be a fantastic coach. Not that he believed you. Or took it very well, for that matter.
Then, you hear his voice again. And this time, it’s a bit softer. As if there’s a fraction of a smile on his face. “So, why the fuck have you been playing this game for thirty years, you stupid fucking Yank?”
The nostalgia of the name hits you like a bus, and you’re thankful you’re leaning on the doorframe because you truly may have stumbled over. However, there’s no time to dwell on that. You’ve got an answer ready and it takes everything in you not to smile.
A heavy, labored, dramatic sigh escapes you, and you open your eyes to look at him. “Because I love it.”
“Because you fucking love it,” he echoes, and that fraction of a smile you heard in his voice happens to be hidden amongst his perpetual scowl. He takes a step closer to you, pointing at you and tapping on your shoulder. “Don’t you dare let that prick take that away from you.”
You bite the inside of your cheek and look away from him. He’s right. Just like Rebecca, he’s right. You hate that he’s right, but he’s right. It’s been years since you’ve seen him be right, but it hasn’t gotten any less annoying.
You think back to what Rebecca said this morning. Don’t let him win. You didn’t want to. There was actually nothing less that you wanted than to allow him to have that sort of power over you.
But still, the fear lingers. It sits in your stomach and churns it. He said he’d ruin you. Turn the world against you. It’d be your word against the club’s and more importantly, your word against football darling and West Ham star, Tom MacDonald’s.
(“Sure, you can go public with it,” Rupert had told you, basking in the anger written in your expression. “But to be completely honest, love, I’m not sure anyone’s going to believe you.” He shrugged. “Only female coach in the league suddenly crying sexual harassment after she’s been fired? Seems a bit convenient to me, don’t you think?”)
You don’t mean for your voice to be as small as it is when you say, “But what if I’m actually done?”
Vulnerability’s never been something you’ve embraced, especially with your career path, and you hate the way you sound. Weak. Timid. Afraid. As you meet his gaze once again, you realize that you hate the way that Roy’s looking at you even more.
“You’re the furthest thing from done. Done hasn’t ever been a word in your fucking vocabulary,” he tells you. There’s no room for argument. “You wanna know why?” You shrug at him in response, cueing him to continue. “Because unfortunately, I fucking know you. And I know the only time you’d ever be done with this sport is when you’re fucking dead.”
This time, you do allow yourself to smile. It’s small and humorous— a tight-lipped agreement, but it’s enough for Roy to know he’s gotten through. You want to laugh, partly because you know he’s right, partly because you can’t fucking believe that you’re smiling at him, but you’re strong enough to keep that in.
“So, yeah. Don’t let that prick kill you. Don’t let any prick keep you out of this game. Especially coaching.” Roy shakes his head, pausing for a beat, as if he’s making an effort to say, “You’re too… fucking good.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Took a lot to get that one out, huh?”
Roy’s quick with a response. “You’re lucky you got it at all.”
You scowl, but there’s not much in it. You’re used to that type of compliment from him. If you can even call it that. Still, the familiarity of it makes you the most uncomfortable you’ve been all day.
However, you’re distracted by one thing. Don’t let any prick keep you out of the game. He’s said it so casually, like he’d actually meant it. As if he had no sense of irony about it. It boils your blood and stirs something ugly in you.
That feeling prompts you to meet his gaze. “What if one of those pricks is right in front of me?”
For the first time all night, his stoic expression falters, as if that was the last thing he’d ever expected you to say. It was only a fraction of a second. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment.
But you hadn’t missed it. You’d seen the Tin Man facade crumble, even for just a second. You’d seen the hurt in his eyes, the regret. You’d celebrate it if it didn’t make you feel so unexpectedly awful.
He abruptly clears his throat with a solemn nod. “Well,” he says gruffly. ”Then don’t let me take that away either."
You look away from him, because you know that’s all you can do right now. Your mind’s racing a million miles an hour, thinking about him, about Rupert and West Ham and Tom MacDonald, and about the Richmond job. There’s a piece of you that wants to believe that everything that had happened this week was leading to this. To seeing him again, to being offered to work with him, to gain an opportunity for redemption in more ways than one.
But the more logical piece of you knows that’s all bullshit. And it’s that thought that puts you back in a more comfortable headspace.
“You know I can’t forgive you for what you did,” you tell him, meeting his eyes once more. The weight of your words is heavy on your shoulders and you lean against your doorframe again. “I won’t forgive you.”
Roy nods stiffly. “I know,” he says. “And I can’t forgive you.”
You return his nod in understanding. “I know.”
His gaze leaves yours for a moment, like he’s trying to figure out how to phrase what he wants to say next. How to work up the courage to do so.
“But if—” Roy’s voice comes out strained and he clears his throat. “If this is something you want, this coaching thing at Richmond, then I…” He looks at you and all you can see is sincerity. You hate it. “It’ll be professional. Civil. I won’t let there be any issues or… fucking whatever.”
He appears to be just as bad at this as he was when you last saw him. You bite the inside of your cheek to hold in your laughter. By the way his face becomes instantaneously annoyed, you can tell he’s noticed.
You’re already talking before he can retract his statement. “How’s the team?”
If he’s offended by you not thanking him for doing the bare fucking minimum, he doesn’t show it, and takes your change in topic in stride. “Good,” he replies. “Pretty fucking good. We’re still trying to figure some shit out when it comes to—”
“No,” you interrupt him. “I’ve seen you guys play. I know you’re good. I mean—” Your throat suddenly gets tight, a pit of anxiety forming in your stomach completely out of nowhere. A shaky breath leaves your lips. “The team. The guys. Are they…?”
Roy catches on. “They’re good lads,” he says, his voice telling you that it’s not a statement, but a fact. “Some of the best I’ve ever played with. Easy to coach too.”
Your brow quirks up. “Easy?”
“If two fucking clowns from Oklahoma and fucking… me are saying they’re easy,” he says, looking at you with intent as he trails off.
That same pit of anxiety bubbles up once more. “And, uh… Jamie Tartt? Is he—?” Roy’s brow furrows. “I’ve just heard some less-than-great things. Him being the star and all. Football darling or whatever. Are they true?”
Your over-explanation of the Richmond striker makes Roy narrow his eyes in suspicion. He opens his mouth to question it, but then realizes it’s you. There had to be some personal reason for you to bring it up. Whatever issue it was, he knew he was no longer personal enough with you to ask.
“He was a prick,” Roy finally settles on. “Now he’s less of a prick.”
The fond look in Roy’s eyes tells you that he’s warmed up to Jamie more than he’s letting on, and it puts you at ease. You nod in acknowledgment. Silence fills the air between you two, neither of you knowing what else to say.
You think about the team you’ve watched quietly on TV, studying up for your rivalry games with them when you were preparing to coach at West Ham. You think about your prospective coaching staff and the vitriol you heard in Nathan Shelley’s voice when you asked him about Ted Lasso. You think about the job and what evidently comes with it.
But most importantly, you think about the potential of this new position and the potential of this new beginning.
And while you’ve got questions, you realize they’re all for yourself. Not for Roy.
You’re out of questions and he’s out of time. Way out of time.
You remember this as you rock back on your heels. “I think you’ve gone over your five minutes.”
Roy looks at you expectantly. “Are you going to tell me to fuck off?”
“You? Absolutely,” you tell him, earning yet another eye roll. “But Richmond?” You pause, trying to ignore just how quietly hopeful he now looks. You sigh, shoulders slumping. “Tell Rebecca I’ll consider it.”
Roy releases a relieved, thankful breath, nodding at you. “Good,” he says.
You nod back at him. “Wouldn’t want you to spend another three hours in your car trying to figure out how you’re gonna break the bad news to her.”
That eye roll returns, but there’s a bit of levity in it. He looks at you for a moment longer, biting the inside of his cheek like he's contemplating saying something else. Your brows furrow in interest, and as soon as they do, he seems to decide against it.
Roy turns to go down your steps with a shake of his head. “Get out of those fucking shorts and stop your wallowing, Fourteen,” he throws behind him as he walks away. “And clean your fucking flat!”
Glancing behind you, your jaw drops in outrage as you realize there’s no way in hell he saw your warzone living room from where he was standing. “You can’t even see into my apartment!”
He doesn’t turn around when he says, “I don’t need to see! I just fucking know you.”
You manage to suppress the urge to actually yell at him to fuck off at that, and instead choose to live with the wildly strange and undefinable feeling that overtakes your body, one that doesn’t dissolve until you watch him speed off down your street.
This fucking week, man.
You shut your door and turn to face your living room, a newfound disgust for the vile state that it’s in. Your lips curls up and you sigh, walking into your kitchen to grab a trash bag, making a plan of action for the night as you shake it out.
You replay your first conversation with Roy in eight years as you tidy up your apartment. You make a mental pros and cons list of the Richmond job as you take the longest, most necessary shower of your life. You chuckle to yourself at the idea of Rupert and Tom’s faces if they were to see that you’d been picked up by Richmond.
You sleep well for the first night in three days, on clean sheets, in clean pajamas, embroidered soccer ball shorts joining your dirty laundry.
You’re bounding into your kitchen at nine the next morning to grab Rebecca’s card that you left on your counter, brewing an espresso as you call her.
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sally-mun · 3 years ago
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On Thursday I had to go to bed very early, because the next day was Black Friday and I was scheduled to open my current store, much earlier than usual shopping hours. I had to get up at 4:30, meaning that I needed to go to bed by 8:00, 9:00 at the latest. As a result I ended up having to miss out on my weekly game group, which meets on Thursday nights. This night was going to be a special Thanksgiving event, but I didn’t get to go.
Friday was Black Friday, which is probably enough said, but in addition to the usual reasons the day sucks I also ended up feeling sick to my stomach. We haven’t been able to get any more of my usual coffee brand for a couple of months and just ran out of our supply, so I had to start a new one, and I figured I’d really need it for the day since, well, Black Friday and all. Unfortunately not all coffees are created equal and this one ended up making me really queasy. Made the day harder than it already necessarily was.
Saturday I had to get up at 4:30 again because for some reason the mall decided it would run the same hours as Black Friday. Went in with no coffee this time, which is almost as shitty as going in with bad coffee but in a different way. The first associate that comes in to work with me ends up getting a call while at work, and she casually mentions that family members who were at her house for Thanksgiving have now tested positive for covid. She doesn’t seem concerned about this at all and just keeps casually replying that it’s fine, her family didn’t catch it. It sounded like she wasn’t quite clear on how the incubation period works and I tried to explain that she should at least be on guard and maybe get tested after a few days to see if anything comes up, but she’s continually unconcerned. I’m kind of disarmed by her nonchalant dismissal, but ultimately there’s really nothing for me to do. Even if they did catch it, it’s only been two days, so she wouldn’t be symptomatic or contagious yet. I drop a text to the assistant manager who’d be in later that day to make them aware of the situation, tho. She calls me back maybe an hour or so later to ask for more details, then asks me how traffic has been. I explain that it’s been surprisingly dead for being the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and she says I can send the associate home on the basis of it being dead, then, since there was another employee in by now as well. I do as instructed, then fill her in on any additional details once she gets in for her shift a little later.
Sunday our fridge broke down, probably sometime in the night. When I left for work that day I thought the things I pulled out felt surprisingly less chill than usual, but just figured it wasn’t getting as cold because the fridge was so full of leftovers. I later get a text while at work that it’s completely broken, everything in the freezer is ruined, and my family is scrambling to try to safe the rest in coolers or by storing it outside in the garden bin or the trunk of the car, since it’s so cold out. I’m also informed that the fridge now reeks from the food that did get ruined. I can’t tell if I’m more upset about what’s happening or the fact that my family has to deal with it alone and I can’t help them.
Monday we were supposed to get a new fridge; we did not. There was good new at least in that the one they’d be delivering the next day would be brand new and bigger than our old one, but the bad news is that the life raft of using coolers only lasts for so long, and we have to throw away more food. All of the Thanksgiving leftovers are thrown away. It’s probably at least 2/3rds of the total food that we made. We’d intended to eat a bit more and then pack up the rest into portion-sized packs and freeze them as ready-to-go meals that could be warmed up on short notice or taken as a lunch to a shift at work. In total between Monday and Sunday we lose a couple hundred dollars’ worth of food.
Tuesday the new fridge comes, but the guy backing up the truck isn’t properly paying attention and crashes into our garden bin while backing up. The bin is still functional, but definitely broken. More issues ensue as they try to bring the fridge inside, resulting in a huge gash across the front of our brand new fridge. The doors are also facing the wrong way, but we already know that’s an easy fix, so shouldn’t be a big deal. The maintenance manager says it’s getting close to lunchtime for his team, so he’ll send someone back in an hour to flip the doors. An hour goes by and no one shows up, and I’m getting anxious because I need to eat something before I go to work that day and I’m trying wait for this to get done first so I can stay out of the guy’s way. I decide to go ahead and make my food after 15 minutes because I’m very hungry at this point and HAVE to have something. The guy finally shows up about half an hour late, and waltzes straight into our house bare-faced while I’m still warming up my food. Last I knew they’re supposed to wear masks when working inside someone’s home, so I asked him if that’s still the rule. He pauses and says it’s up to the tenant, and I said I’d feel more comfortable if he had a mask. He says he has one in his truck and he can go get it, but as he passes he grumbles that if I’m going to require it I should say something before the person comes in. I’m stare at him and respond that I didn’t expect someone to come in without one. He returns with his mask, and I retreat to sit in the living room with my partially-prepared food. I figure I’ll eat as far as I can downstairs while he flips the doors, then do the rest when he leaves. For some reason this guy faffs around with the fridge for an hour and a half; flipping the doors should only take 10 minutes, 20 minutes tops. A significant portion of this time is spent with both doors completely off the fridge, which had just spent the last hour+ getting cold, so now all of that is completely undone. He’s still not finished by the time I have to get ready for work, so I ask my mom if she’ll pack up the rest of my food once he leaves. I go to work still hungry.
That same night I come home and discover that my computer is stuck in a blue screen loop. Earlier that day when I had gone downstairs to make my food, I had only intended to be down long enough TO make the food, so I didn’t put my computer to sleep. Normally that’s fine because it’ll go to sleep on its own after half an hour, but it’s been having some issues lately, and it looked like it had gotten hung up trying to enter sleep mode. I attempted to wake it back up, but nothing worked, since it never properly went to sleep I assume. I waited as long as I could for it to come back, but nothing happened, and I couldn’t leave it in limbo like this if I was about to leave for work, so unfortunately I had to give it an improper shutdown. When I tried to start it that night after getting home, however, it got stuck in a loop of trying to fix itself after the improper shutdown (which is normal for that) and then getting a blue screen error and rebooting to try again. Rinse and repeat. Googling on my phone suggested that this was a memory issue and was fixable, but I couldn’t even get into safe mode TO fix it. I’m now currently stuck without my PC, which I either have to pay to repair or buy a new one completely, which I’ve now completely missed the right opportunity for because it’s now past both Black Friday and Cyber Monday. In addition, the computer chair I was sitting in completely busted apart while I was sitting in it trying to fix all this. Literally the left side completely detached and I couldn’t sit comfortably in it at all.
Today at work my store manager pulled me aside into the back room to ask about the issue with the associate on Saturday, since she hadn’t worked that day. I figured she was following up, so I took her through the events of the conversation with the associate, then the conversation with the assistant manager. I’m then confused because my manager starts talking about various things that I have to consider when sending someone home and what the rules are about preventing someone from working due to covid, and I realize mid-conversation that this is a disciplinary discussion. I’m even more confused because, as I pointed out, I sent the associate home at the assistant’s behest. My manager then says that, according to the assistant, I had made the decision to send the associate home myself, and that she was claiming uninvolvement because “the associate was already gone when she got in.” I told her, yes, the associate was already gone when she got in because she freaking called me and instructed me to send the associate home prior to her own shift. For some reason despite all this, my manager continues with her points of things that I need to think about and account for if I’m sending someone home, as though my judgement had at all come into play in this situation. She goes on to say that she had to discuss this situation with HER boss, the district manager, because it could be a legal matter to deny someone their work hours because of covid if they aren’t symptomatic and such. I tell her, AGAIN, that I wasn’t planning on sending her home at all and wasn’t even the one that brought the idea up. Even if the associate has indeed caught covid from her exposure, it was only two days ago at the time, so there was no risk that day. I had only texted the assistant because I felt obligated to pass the information up the food chain, because if it turns out the associate DOES have covid and it comes up that I knew and didn’t say anything, that seemed like a bigger offense. My manager doesn’t give me a formal write-up for this because I guess the water is too muddy at this point, but I’m so fucking pissed because my hunch is that the assistant was getting a similar talking, realized she fucked up, and then threw me under the bus to save herself. I specifically accept the offer for this job because my trust had been so severely breached at my last one, and this is exactly the kind of shit that I don’t want to put myself through anymore.
Tomorrow I’m taking my PC in to the technician. I have no idea what this is going to cost me or how long it’ll be before I know anything. All I know is that I’m going to end up missing out on my game group’s session tomorrow night, again, for the second week in a row. I’m also going to miss out on a livestream I was scheduled to be on for Friday, because I can’t play the game I was supposed to be helping with.
So basically this has been a pretty horrendous week+ and I’m having a very bad time. I hope you all are doing better because I wouldn’t wish this shit on anyone.
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hops-hunny · 4 years ago
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Felix Felicis
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Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff! Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Request: “Can you do Draco x Hufflepuff reader fluff where they’re cuddling together and all he wants to do is make her laugh because she failed an exam earlier that day so he’s trying to do everything he can to cheer her up and overall it’s just super fluffy? Thank you have a great day❤️❤️”
Summary: After (Y/N) has a rather unfortunate week, Draco does everything in his power to change that. In a way, he was (Y/n)’s own little Felix Felicis.
A/N: This was my first request so I was a bit nervous writing it! I enjoyed every bit though, this was a very cute request. I hope it was everything you wanted and more anon <3
If (Y/n) didn't know any better, she would've claimed that the world had it out for her. And after the week she had, who would have blamed her? On Monday in potions, she had stirred the wrong way causing a reaction that made her eyebrows disappear(thank god for makeup). On Tuesday, she had slipped and fallen in the great hall which caused a chorus of laughter from every house, including her fellow Hufflepuffs. Wednesday, well, nothing happened. She felt relieved. She had answered a question correctly in DADA, had a free period that overlapped with her friends, and had taken an exam in potions which in her opinion was very easy! Her stroke of bad luck was no more! She was ecstatic...until Thursday came around. If she had thought the rest of the week was bad, then Thursday was absolutely fucking dreadful. Her day started off fine, she woke up, got dressed, and put on her favorite perfume. She didn’t use it often, only when she expected the day to be amazing 
That hopeful feeling of luck was short lived and ended by the time she got to the great hall. The Weasley twins had rigged a prank on the wrong person which resulted in her face being stained blue, when she got to her first class her seat was taken by someone else which she didn’t have a problem with. That was until she noticed the only seat left was near Fletcher Digby, who was known for his noticeable...odor that was...to put it nicely, absolutely putrid. By the end of her day, she had gathered up a broken shoe, a run in her stockings, a rip in her blouse, and the blue tint to her face had somehow gotten worse - which she later found out was sweat activated. (Y/n) was usually very optimistic. Even during the cloudiest of days or saddest of times she was always there to offer encouraging words and a smile. If a fellow Hufflepuff was sick, she’d often bake them something with the house elves or give them the last of her sweets from Honeydukes. She even did this for people in other houses as well, a ‘Get Well Soon!’ card attached along with it. That’s what her boyfriend, Draco, loved about her.
She was his light in all the darkness, the candle to his flame. When she came into his life, she taught him many things. His love for her was deep and pure and anyone would be a fool not to notice. That’s why Draco was concerned when he started to see her throughout the week less and less. During the school day, they didn’t have any classes together but even then he’d always wave or smile to her during hallpassing. He’d leave a kiss on her forehead in the great hall before heading to his own table and waited for her after her last class of the day on Friday. So when Draco found himself waiting a lot longer than usual outside of the potion’s room he grew concerned. He pushed past a few students entering the room. His smile dropped when there was no one left in the room but Fletcher Digby. Come to think of it, had he seen her at all today? He assumed she came to the great hall late but now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen her leave with her friends. There were no quick pecks during hallpassing, winks when they saw each other. He quickly strode the halls, looking for her. He was worried, it wasn’t like (y/n) to just miss a day of class with no warning or explanation prior. 
“Hannah, have you seen (Y/n)? I haven’t seen her all day and I'm growing quite worried.” He said pulling the Hufflepuff off to the side. If anyone were to know where she was, surely her roommate would. The girl took a moment to think. 
“Hm, no. I haven’t seen her since this morning. Before I left the dorm, she was still sleeping. She was really distraught last night so I’m not surprised she decided to stay in. However, I do admit that is completely unlike her.” She offered him a sympathetic smile as he thanked her before heading in the direction of the girls dormitory.
He knocked on the door, finding it to not be locked as it popped open. He walked in only to find that her bed was empty. The only person to be found was Luna, who was holding (Y/n)’s favorite stuffed giraffe (one he had given to her as a present once). She hadn’t noticed him yet but wasn’t phased when he let out a sharp, “What are you doing with that?” she simply turned around and offered him a soft grin.
“Hello Draco, (Y/n) asked me to bring this to her. She was having a terribly bad case of wrackspurts today. One of the worst cases I’ve seen really. So she went where she usually does when she has a bad day although, I think you should bring it to her now that you’re here. Also give her this, it’s a good luck charm I made for her. It should get rid of the wrackspurts and bring luck along with it.” She spoke, handing him the stuffed giraffe and a necklace with a peculiar charm made of tiger’s eye. He looked at it for a sec before taking it, offering her a nod before heading off where he knew you’d be.
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You sat cross legged on the old, comfy couch, drinking the cup of chamomile and lavender tea Hagrid had brought to you. You had grown quite close to the gentle giant throughout your years at Hogwarts. During your first year, you were having an awful day, not as bad as the week you were currently going through but still quite a bad one. You were homesick and missed your family dearly. Your housemates tried to cheer you up with treats and kind words and although you appreciated them dearly, nothing could stop the tears from flowing. That’s when Luna came in, she brought you straight to Hagrid’s hut and explained your dilemma. He welcomed you both in, brewing you tea and offering whatever treats he had. Soon enough, your tears stopped. Hagrid’s hut slowly started to become your home away from home as he offered it to you whenever you liked without asking any questions if you weren’t willing to talk.
Usually, you’d slowly start to tell him what was wrong but today was one of those silent days. Many would expect Hagrid to be absolutely horrid with emotions but, he had like a 6th sense when it came to them. He decided to leave you alone for a few hours, tending to his duties. When he came back, he had gotten you your favorite dessert from the house elves. They were always more than willing to send and make you things because of how kind and helpful you were to them. You sipped at your tea as you softly pet Fang’s head which was resting in your lap. You and Fang’s heads both perked up as you heard a knock at the door. Hagrid walked to the door to see who it was.
“Ah, I figured I would see ya sometime soon.” he said, stepping to the side to let whoever it was in. Draco stepped into the small hut, closing the door as he came to sit near you on the couch. You instantly threw yourself into his arms which in turn, caused him to wrap his arms around you tightly, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he stroked your back. Hagrid took that as his sign to leave, taking the large dog with him. Draco let you cry a bit, his heart breaking at the noises.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, love. Are you alright? Luna told me to give you these.” He said as he handed the girl her giraffe. She hugged it tightly as he put the charm around her neck. She sat between her lover’s legs sighing. He held her close as she described her day, his heart aching from all that she had to deal with and his mind cursing him for not realizing sooner.
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“And on top of all of that, I failed my potions exam! That wouldn’t have been bad if I hadn’t gone on blabbing to all my friends how well I thought I did on the bloody thing. I just feel like the world has it out for me.” She said looking up at him. He nodded in understanding. He had stayed quiet as she had vent to him, just providing the listening ear she needed. That’s when he got a few ideas. He smiled before standing up, stretching his hand out for the girl to grab.
“Come with me. I’ve got an idea! Quickly, we mustn’t be caught.” He said eagerly as he stared at her. She hesitantly grabbed his hand, setting Georgie, her giraffe, on the couch before she was swiftly dragged out of the hut. Draco pulled his girlfriend along, running as she tried to keep up due to the fact her legs were much shorter.
“Where are we going, Dray?” She asked which prompted a quick “shhh!!” from Draco. They both ran across the grounds of the school, hand in hand as to not be caught. (Y/n) had no idea where he was taking her but she thought anything would be better than moping around the rest of the day. They both tried to contain the wild giggles coming from their mouths as they headed in the direction of Hogsmeade.
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As they finally made it, they both still had smiles on their faces at the rush they had gotten from sneaking off. Draco had tied his tie around the girl’s eyes leading her in the way of whatever wild idea it was that he had. “What if we get caught? Someone is bound to see us.” she said, her face forming a frown at the thought of being caught.
“Oh hush darling, we’ll be fine. Besides if we do happen to get caught in some trouble, I’m sure my father won’t mind bailing us out.” He said, finally removing her blindfold. She opened her eyes to see...Madam Puddifoots? She gave him a strange look. “We’re here to get a laugh out of the things that happen in here, sweets. Trust me, you’ll see. Act natural.” He took her hand, leading her to a small booth. 
Soon enough, she saw and heard what he meant. The sight of all the couples with their peculiar behaviors was quite a laugh. They saw one couple come in with matching crochet sweaters with each others faces on it, another referred to each other as each others “snuggle-boop-kitty-fuzy-wuzzykins”and only that each time they spoke to each other. But along with the odd, mushy, and gushy couples came a few odd breakups too. One man tried to propose by reciting an “original poem” which turned out to be stolen, causing his boyfriend to dump scalding hot tea on his head. Another guy forgot he scheduled dates with 4 different girls at the same spot, on the same day..didn’t end well for him. A few employees had to carry him out on a stretcher as the girls all exchanged numbers.
By the time they were back on their way to the castle, (Y/n) was already in a better mood. She held an ice cream cone in one hand, and Draco’s hand in her other. They both paused coming to the same realization. Although it was easy to sneak out, how would they sneak back in? The couple locked eyes at the same time before Draco picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. (Y/n) made sure her ice cream didn’t fall as her boyfriend sprinted in the shadows, using a passageway she had never seen before to get back into the castle. Once inside, they both held in their giggles, quieting their breathing from the run back to the castle as they made their way to his dorm. By then she had long finished her ice cream as he tossed her on his bed, throwing himself down next to her shortly after. (Y/n) rolled over towards Draco to find him already facing her. The pair sat in silence for a moment before both losing composure. They began to laugh hysterically, to the point where a tear or two was shed. After their little laughing fit, Draco sat up, pulling his girlfriend on top of him. She turned, straddling him as she placed a soft kiss on his lips before resting her head on his shoulder.
“I just wanted to say thank you Draco. Not even just for today but for being there whenever I need you. This was honestly one of the worst weeks of my life but if I’m honest, I’d go through it all again to have another evening like the one we just had.” She said as she nuzzled in deeper, taking in the scent of expensive cologne and cinnamon. Her lover was taken back by her words. She was the only one who made him feel like that. Her words meant more to him than anything in the world. He tightened his grip on her, holding her close to him.
“I’d do it all again and more just to see you happy. Why don’t we make this a regular thing of ours, hm? Every friday, we’ll sneak outside the castle and do whatever we want, indulging to our hearts can’t handle it anymore? Even if not, everyday with you is an adventure, sneaky trips or not.” He said. Draco meant what he said full heartedly, everyday she managed to make his life an adventure, learning new things about himself that he didn’t know were there. It was like he was a canvas and she was the painter, each day, each moment, a different stroke of color on his heart.
Perhaps it was Luna’s good luck charm or perhaps it was them, but from then on out each day seemed luckier than the last when he had his girl on his arm.
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missmonsters2 · 5 years ago
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About You || Part IX
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Gif by: giuliacommissions (please check her out if you’d like to commission her for gifs and other work 💞)
PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader/OFC
Summary: Wanda had never known loss like she has until she lost Pietro. It’s debilitating. She can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t even leave her house. Life is fading fast, and she’s not sure if she even wants to hang on. Enter you, a stranger that reconnects her to the daily things that makes life beautiful.
Warnings: Deals with loss & grief and the spectrum of emotions and depression that comes with it. Please note there is no glorification in any of this. Loss, grief, and depression are nothing beautiful. Also, please don’t hesitate or reach out for help if you are in a dark place. Love you, lovelies 💘
Genre: Angst & Romance
NOTE: One more chapter after this. YES I KNOW I’M LATE IN POSTING AHH.
PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII
PART IX of X
Count: 2562
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Moving into the new place is a whirlwind with you.
You let her paint all over the walls for decorations, and Wanda's never had so much fun picking a couch before.
Wanda is currently flushing red as Natasha is over, and she had caught the two of you amorously loving each other.
You had to go to work, so Wanda was left to face the embarrassment alone.
"You certainly have a lot of energy," Natasha comments, and Wanda drops her paintbrush.
"I can't help it," Wanda mumbles.
"Oh, it's fine. At least you're doing it in the name of love. Loudly, but for love."
"You could hear us?"
"We can hear you every time," Natasha deadpans.
"We?" Wanda emphasizes.
"My only advice is that you pick better times to do it if you can. Clint had to wait outside for an hour and a half last time he came over."
Wanda flushes, her ears a hot red while she tries to resume painting.
She can't help it if she wants to have you when she does.
"So, was Clint right?"
"About?" Wanda mumbles.
Natasha stares at her friend and frowns.
"That she's the top?"
Wanda slams her paintbrush down.
"No one is allowed to be friends with Clint anymore."
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You were weird on the phone today.
A little skittish in Wanda's opinion. You said you wanted to take her somewhere after work. 
She couldn't help but worry that maybe you were regretting everything, but then you showed up at home at 7 PM with flowers in your hands.
"Would you go somewhere with me? I have something to tell you."
A look of worry passed over Wanda's face, but she nodded as she grabbed her jacket.
The ride was quiet. You were tense as your hand would grip the steering wheel before relaxing, the cycle repeating.
"Where are we going?" Wanda asked. 
"I wanted to show you the person who made sure I wasn't alone," you tell her. 
Wanda is surprised because she wasn't aware that your friend was in the same town. She thought they were out of your life, as you had indicated.
But then, when you pull up into the cemetery, Wanda's heart dropped.
"Why didn't you say so?" Wanda looks at you, heartbreaking at the sad smile on your face.
"It doesn't change that people do come and go."
Wanda doesn't say anything and lets you lead her. She feels a little on the edge because she knows this cemetery too well by now, and the route is familiar.
The two of you come to a stop, and Wanda looks at the gravestone she's seen many times before. She used to spend hours every day sitting here.
You put flowers down before standing up and looking at Wanda with wet eyes.
"I have something to give you," you quietly say, your hand fishing in your bag before you pull something out and put in Wanda's hands.
Her yearbook. 
Wanda looks back at the gravestone, the words searing on her eyes.
Pietro Maximoff.
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Flashback...
You were in a bit of tizzy. You and your business partner just recently bought the space to open your own psychology clinic. 
You had just hired a marketing firm to help you with your advertising for your grand opening. He would be arriving in a couple of minutes with his advertisement plan.
"Hello?"
You shoot up from your office, putting down the boxes as you rush to the front.
"Hello!" You say breathlessly, feeling a little shame at what a mess you look like.
The guy standing there looked equally of a mess with his blond hair with dark roots in an array. He looked a little breathless, and you guessed he was running late.
The two of you stand there, looking at each other before the two of you start laughing.
"I'm Pietro, your marketing manager."
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"Pietro, the job had been done weeks ago. Why do you keep coming here?" You quirk your brow.
You and Pietro had hit it off quite well, getting to know each other as he helped you with advertising your clinic and services.
But it was professional. Except Pietro had kept coming even after everything was finished.
Monday it was coffee, Tuesday was lunch, Wednesday was dropping off a coffee and a bagel, and now it was Thursday, and he had come on his lunchtime again.
"I just wanted to see if you wanted to go for dinner," he smiles. 
You stand there, brow still quirked as you assessed him.
"Alright."
"Cool, how about 8 PM?"
You nod, and Pietro smiles and runs out the building again.
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Dinner is a pleasant affair. 
He is flirty but respectful. He holds doors and chairs open for you but doesn't make a move to grab your hand or try to get closer.
Pietro is talking about his plans to see his sister next weekend when you interrupt him.
"Do you keep coming by my office because you're interested in me?"
It's blunt, but you rather be straight forward about it.
Pietro stops his story, mouth still open before closes it sheepishly.
"No," he admits, "I actually wanted to set you up with my sister."
"Pass," you say immediately.
"What!" Pietro says. "C'mon, you guys would be a perfect match."
"Not interested in dating," you tell him as you eat your food, more relaxed that it's not a date.
Pietro groans and you laugh a bit before he starts eating again.
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Even after your blunt rejection, Pietro still comes by the office to pester you into getting lunch.
He lectures you that you can't skip it even if you're busy and lists all the things that could happen to you if you don't eat.
"Cancer? Really?" You say to him.
"Everything causes cancer," he tells you seriously.
"Wouldn't that mean that even eating can cause cancer?" You argue back at him.
"Exactly," he says seriously, "If we're all going to get cancer regardless, you should eat and have a full stomach at least."
You laugh, a weird familial warmth filling the pit of your stomach.
"You seriously haven't changed," you tell him.
"What do you mean?" He asks you.
You roll your eyes, but you don't expect him to remember.
"Pietro Maximoff, track and field captain, while also the student council president. The guy everyone wants to be friends with."
Pietro's mouth dropped.
"We went to the same university?" He says excitedly. "You do know my sister too then!"
"Yeah, she's really nice," you say while you look down at the ground with your hands shoved in your pocket.
"Nice?" Pietro snorts. "No one ever says that about her."
You chuckle.
"She beats up bullies, so she's automatically nice even if she seems like the equivalent to a cactus."
"So, you're saying you will go on a date with her!" Pietro says excitedly.
"Are you deaf? Nowhere in what I said says I'll go on a date with her."
"But you just said she's nice!" Pietro whines. 
"I also said she's the equivalent to a cactus."
"Wanda's really wonderful, trust me."
You merely hum.
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It's a little weird, you admit. Having someone like Pietro who goes out of his way to spend time with you.
People ask all the time if you're dating, but Pietro always laughs it off and says that you're like family to each other.
"I'm her big brother!" 
"You're only two months older," you would always say in response.
"God, you're like Wanda. Older is older," Pietro would joke. 
He talks about Wanda a lot. You can tell he clearly adores her. You're not sure you really understand sibling bonds because of your own brother.
But Pietro talks as if he would move mountains for her, and talks like Wanda wouldn't hesitate to take a bullet for him.
"Is that piece of shit calling you again?" 
You look away from your phone screen to Pietro's scowling face. 
He knows everything about you.
He knows that your brother has been trying to get back in touch with you.
"Yeah," you sigh as you put your phone down and sit back in your chair. You have 30 minutes to relax before your next patient comes.
Your brother had seen you in an online advertisement and has been calling your workplace. You picked up the phone one, talked to him briefly before he started saying how he needed cash.
You haven't picked up the phone since.
"You should just let me pick up the phone and tell him to fuck off," Pietro glares at the offending phone.
"You have a lot of free time," you say to him in response. 
"I'm a director now, hell yeah, I have lots of time," Pietro laughs. 
The two of you banter some more when the receptionist tells you your appointment is here.
Pietro smiles at you before he walks out of the office with you following him.
Except, at the front desk, you see your brother standing there.
"What the hell," you mutter under your breath.
"What are you doing here?" You say to him.
"Miss, that's your appointment," the receptionist tells you. 
"My appointment is supposed to be with a Leon--" You groan because he used a fake name to book the appointment.
"You need to get the hell out of here, Jake," you glare at him.
"I just need 5 minutes to talk, don't you want to talk after all this time?" Jake frowns at you.
You want to make a scene, but this is your workplace, so you drag Jake into your office with Pietro right on your heels.
"No, I don't want to talk or catch up. Why would I want to catch up with someone who left me at an orphanage?" You hiss at him.
"I was 18!" Jake defends himself. "I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone you. I left you for the best."
You scoff at the response.
"And what? You want to catch up now? Or is this about the cash you said you needed."
Jake is quiet.
"I just need a loan," he says instead.
There's a scoff in the background.
The two of you look over to see Pietro there looking at Jake in disgust.
"What's your problem?" Jake glares at him. "Get out of here, this is family business."
"I am family," Pietro says in return.
"With family like me, she doesn't need your ass around here," Pietro pulls out his checkbook from the inner chest pocket of his suit jacket.
"Take this, and get the fuck out of here. If you ever come back around here without her wanting you around, I'll sue you," Pietro threatens, ripping out a cheque and shoving it into Jake's hand.
You catch the numbers as your eyes widen.
It was $10,000.
Jake's eyes are wide too, but he looks at Pietro once more before looking at you.
"Deal," Jake says and leaves.
"Fucking dick," Pietro mutters as Jake leaves the building.
"What the hell, Pietro!" You yell at him.
"Why did you give him $10,000?"
"Because jerks like that will keep coming around until they get what they want. Or until their legs are broken, but I don't know anyone who can do that for me. Yet."
You stare at him in disbelief, but he just laughs and pulls you in for a hug.
"$10,000 is nothing to make sure my little sister isn't hurt."
You denied it when Pietro asked you later if you were crying.
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"You should show up here. At 7 PM."
You look at Pietro.
"Are you trying to set me up with your sister again?"
"No. Yes. Maybe," Pietro answers.
"Give it up, man," you shake your head at him.
He talks about Wanda all the time. You admit you're a little intrigued by her. But only because Pietro spins her in such a wonderful light, even when he tells you stories of when she's being an asshole.
"My sister is going to die alone with a cat, have some sympathy, and meet her. I guarantee you'll want to lock her down. I'm convinced she's your soulmate," Pietro determinedly keeps going.
"Why are you convinced of that?" You quirk your brow.
"Because she's prickly, you're super nice and patient, and I can't explain it anymore, just meet her!" Pietro whines.
You laugh.
"Well, I'll actually be traveling to Europe next month for a volunteer experience there for some less fortunate kids who need counseling. But, I'm not opposed to meeting her when I'm back. No guarantees, though, and on one condition."
"What's that?" He asks you excitedly.
"I want her yearbook, and when I meet her, I'll give it back," you tell him.
"Why do you want her yearbook?" He asked confusedly.
"I never got to write in it," you tell him.
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"That was the last time I got to see him. He died while I was in Europe."
Wanda knows because she was in the car accident too.
She opens her yearbook and sees an added message on the back, the only other writing in it other than Pietro's.
Wanda,
You may not recognize me, but I wanted to say thank you, for all those years ago, for sticking up for me and getting my things back.
Sincerely,
The girl you saved.
There was a picture there, and Wanda flipped it over. She sees a picture of you back in university, with a familiar dirty backpack.
"When I saw you at the bridge...I just couldn't let you die. You were someone Pietro loved so much. I--"
"Did you blame me?"
Wanda saw a flash of guilt through your eyes.
"I did at first. I hated you at first. You were his family. He loved you so much, he loved me like family, and now he's gone."
Small things over the past few months pass through Wanda's head. Like how you talked as if you new Pietro, trying to get her to not blame herself.
She listened to the words, a dull ache in her chest because the truth felt like you had blamed her too, and she deserved it.
"But...Pietro was right. I met you, got to know you, and everything Pietro told me about you was right. I couldn't blame him for trying to set me up with you."
What a small word, Wanda thought. 
And you were begging.
"Please don't hate me."
But Wanda merely closed the yearbook and opened her arms so you could dive into her comfort.
Because even though you had blamed her, hated her at first, you still saved Wanda. You still stuck around, cleaned her mess up, loved her even when she was awful to you. 
You took in all her imperfections, loved her, and let her love you.
"You are my soulmate," you confess her to, lips quivering.
"Pietro always had a way of taking care of his family. I asked him at the funeral for help, and he gave me you," Wanda whispered.
Your tears stopped at Wanda's calming words. She pulled back, cupping your face as her thumb wiped your tears.
"I love you," she insists. "I'm never letting this hand go."
She holds up your hand, pressing her lips to the painted red string around your wrist.
"I was lost, but you found me. I'm never letting you go."
PART X
480 notes · View notes
multifanficss · 4 years ago
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Emergency Room (BTS X READER)-14
A/N: Thank you for the love and support!!<3 Sorry for the long chapter, I still hope you like it!!
Trigger warning: some mentions of fighting, falling, blood, and other hospital terminologies.
Y/N's POV:
"She..." "What?" I said. "She's in deep debt and getting more ill. She sold y-your family home just to keep up with the restaurant and medical bills. She is living with your sept sister, Lilly( if that's your name I'm sorry), but she and your stepdad want to kick her out. ....By next Monday, wait what day is it?" "It's Thursday," "She didn't... want to tell you so I had to come without telling her. I asked her to move in with me and my family but she declined and your stepfather wouldn't even let me see her. I am so sorry y/n..." She said. "It's okay... I know you tried thank you. For now, just rest, and I will figure something out," I said and wiped my tears. She nodded and closed her eyes again.
I sat there and looked at the blank ceiling. I decided to go and walk around in the cafeteria patio. I left and began to make my way there. Once I got there, I got an iced coffee and went out to the patio to walk around. I looked around at the people and saw Taehyung, Jungkook, Hana, Yoongi, and Namjoon all sitting at a table. Hana noticed me and I smiled, waved, and decided to walk in the opposite direction to clear my head.
End of Y/N's POV
Third-person POV:
As y/n walked in the opposite direction, Hana and the rest of the group became confused. "Why did she walk away, she usually would come and sit with us?" she said. "I'm not sure,...I haven't talked to her since this morning," Taehyung said. "Well, as soon as I left, Her best friend said something about her mom but I couldn't hear much," said a voice that startled everyone. It was Hoseok. After hearing the mention of 'mom', made Yoongi stand up and walk quickly in Y/n's direction. It left everyone even more confused. "What?" Hoseok said as he sat down and began to eat. The rest of lunch was a bit awkward but worrisome since they had no clue what was going on.
End of third-person POV
Y/N POV:
I was walking in the garden when I heard some footsteps near me. I turned and saw Yoongi. "Hello Yoongi," I said. "Hey Y/n, How are you doing?" he asked as he walked next to me. "I'm fine, how are you" she asked looking away. "I'm good," he said. "Is there something bothering you?" he asked. "..No," I said. "Are you sure, I promise not to tell anyone," he said. "I'm fine Yoongi... I am sorry I have to go." I said as I was being paged. Yoongi stood there clueless and worried. I smiled at him and walked away. He semi-smiled since he clearly knew something wasn't right. I ran to where I was being paged and it was the emergency room. It was the nurse who had paged me, which happened to be Janet. "I am so sorry to page you but Dr. Kim Taehyung has not been answering the pages," she said. "It's alright, Janet, what can I do?" I said. "We have two people coming in soon, Both were out fishing and it turned really ugly afterward. One is a 32-year-old male and the other is a 30-year-old male. We weren't told what happened, they just said be prepared." she said. "Okey thank you, Janet," I said and she nodded. I decided to page Jackson and mina. They both came pretty quick. I told them what was happening and both were up to help and we went out to wait. Soon we heard the sirens. I took a deep breath and decided to focus on my work. Though I am personal issues, I have to push them aside and take care of the patient as best as I can. I opened the ambulance door to help and soon I saw the paramedic. "30, year-old male, High blood pressure and has a fishing hook stuck on the right side of his chest.  We also have a 32-year-old male, and is currently stable thought seems to have suffered head injuries, he is being brought now," she said and that's when the other ambulance arrived. "Someone quickly page Dr. Jung Hoseok and Dr.Min Yoongi ASAP! Mina takes The 30-year-old to trauma room 2 and Jackson takes the 32-year-old to trauma room one" I said loudly and they did as they were told I walked quickly to Trauma Room 2. Soon I saw Dr.Min and Dr. Jung run quickly to the room, "Dr. Jung you are needed here, Dr. Min in Trauma room 1." I said and quickly we began to get to work.
After several hours, Dr.Jung and I were able to remove the fishing hook and help the 30-year-old. However, The 32-year-old had suffered through multiple skull injuries which caused a severe brain bleed. He didn't make it through the surgery. I stood outside the room of the 30-year-old and felt someone standing next to me, "What happened?" Namjoon said which somewhat startled me. "He said him and his best friend were standing over the bridge and fishing but he brought something up and so they both began to fight. He then fell over the bridge which was like a 7 ft drop. The 30-year-old tried to get him before he fell but he also tried and the fishing hook got stuck in his chest about 3 inches deep." I said. "Wow," he said. "I have to go now, My best friend must be waiting for me," I said. While I was walking on my back I thought of a way to help my mom and decided to run quickly to B/F/N' s room.
I got to her room and saw that she was talking to Taehyung. I knocked before going in, "Hey, Y/N," he said. "Hey, Taehyung, can I talk to b/f/n real quick," I said. He nodded, "By the way, I am sorry I didn't answer my page I was helping someone outside of the hospital, and by the time I got there, both of the patients were in the O.R.," he said. "It's okay, Thank you," I said and he walked out. However, I didn't know he was still listening.  I sat down, "So I came up with a plan, I will get a second job here or get more hours here in the hospital, I will pay off most of the debt with my money now and I will bring my mother to live with me here in Seoul. I'll also sell my father's restaurant." I said. "Are you crazy?!" she said "Your mother will not like the idea of you getting a second job or selling your father's restaurant," she said. " I don’t want to either ,But I have to, I don't want my mom in this situation," I said. "Well how are you going to do it?" she asked. "I will leave tomorrow night, and bring her back by Sunday morning, I'll ask chief and hope he says yes," I said. She looked at me and shook her head. "Well, what about me," she asked. "You can stay with me," a voice said.
It happened to be Seokjin. Taehyung and him walked in at the same time. "What I don't even know you?" she said. "Don't worry, you will be fine," I said. "Plus, I live with Namjoon. He's a great doctor and my best friend," he said. "I promise you will be in great hands plus I will only be gone for two days," I said. "What about you, I don't want anything to happen to you," she said. "Jungkook and I will go with her," Taehyung said as Jungkook walked somehow knowing what was going on. "Alright, but you better take care of her, " she said and glared at both of them. "We have to go to chief to ask him if it would be okay," I said and the three of us left.
We got to the chief's office and I explained my situation. He nodded and took a deep breath and said, "I will allow you to go Dr. L/N but neither jungkook nor Taehyung can go with you." he said. "Why not?" said Taehyung. "Because you both are the only ones in your department. Now Ms. L/N, if you would like to take someone, I would recommend, Park Jimin," he said. "NO!" both Jungkook and Taehyung said at the same time. Which made the room go silent. That's when Park Jimin happened to walk in, "You paged?" he said to the chief. "Yes, you will go with y/n to (your country), she will attend her personal business and you will only make sure she is safe." he said "Ms. L/N, I will have my assistant get you plane tickets for tomorrow night, I expect you both to be back by Sunday afternoon. If you fail to there will be consequences, especially for you Dr. L/N. Understood?" He said. "Understood. Thank you," I said, shook his hand. He smiled and we excused ourselves. I ran back to my best friend's room to tell her the good news.
end of Y/N pov
Third-person POV:
As Y/N ran, the other three stood back. "Why do you get to go?" Jungkook said to Jimin. "I should've  been the one to go with her...." Taehyung said out loud and left without saying anything else.
End of 14
12 notes · View notes
1zashreena1 · 4 years ago
Text
Quarantine- New Ranch Flavor! -5
18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]
Summary: Princess is stranded in NYC with her Murder Panther for the duration of the quarantine. As a high risk patient she has no choice but to isolate as much as possible. Simulated domesticity ensues. Princess texts a running commentary to her bff Lisa.
WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???
No actual smut, nasty ass snack foods, plus size insecurity, unprotected sex, feels are icky, plus size woman+fit man, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings… I mean, its DIEGO
A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!
I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.
TAGLIST: @chelsfic​ @symbiont13​ @nicke0115​ @bunnykjm​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @girlpornparadise​ @mandoplease​ @heresathreebee​ @xxsteph-enrixx​ @jetiikad​ @joalsglasses​ @mutantcookiesecrets​ @demoncatstone​ @squidlywiddly87​
Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.
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~~~
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Thursday 11:22am
From Princess
Day 1 and I literally have an ice pack on my pussy and
Hold on he’s not wearing pants again gtg
~~~
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Friday 9:49am
From Princess
Video chatting with sister when Diego walks past in the background… shirtless.
She put her phone down (my entire screen was just ceiling) and I could hear her crying. Hung up after 10 min
~~~
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Friday 10:14pm
From Princess
He sucks ass at Jenga and its adorable
~~~
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Saturday 11:49am
From Princess
I was provided a to-do list for the day.
It's just his name
~~~
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Sunday 1:32pm
From Princess
We have sorted every liquid in the penthouse into 2 categories:
Potential Lube
Definitely Not Lube
Except we’re arguing about ranch dressing
~~~
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Sunday 2:17pm
From Princess
Update: Ranch went into the Not Lube category because it “smells nasty when it gets warm” This fact was previously unknown to me and I was afraid to ask for more details
~~~
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Monday 8:40am
From Princess
Morning announcements include the fact that 8:37 is the earliest he has ever gotten up
I’m worried about losing my job. Diego advises me to apply to Dyson because I “never lose suction”
Am I offended or proud of myself?  It’s not even 9am
~~~
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Tuesday 1:12am
From Princess
This is the most weed I have ever consumed in my life (I know, not a high bar) Why is he hanging upside down off the couch making motorboat noises??
~~~
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Tuesday 1:14am
From Princess
Ahh. He was composing a poem about my tits
~~~
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Tuesday 2:49am
From Princess
The railing up the stairs to the bedroom does not in fact support my weight. Pole dance competition is OFF
~~~
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Tuesday 2:57am
From Princess
You know that thing you do with my bras? Where you put it on like a headband and it makes mickey mouse ears?
~~~
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Wednesday 11:17am
From Princess
Julio required to give 10 min warning prior to arrival so Diego can take off his pants
Yes you read that right
Freak
~~~
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Wednesday 11:19am
From Princess
Yes you do so know who Julio is. Big, round, only wears ivory/eggshell/off white/ThisIsMy 2ndWedding  colored blazers. Jeez Lisa you're not old enough for dementia yet girl
~~~
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Wednesday 12:52pm
From Princess
I have played myself. Just ate an entire cheesesteak while being a cockwarmer
Turns out I’m the freak
Julio present and accounted for
~~~
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Thursday 9:37am
From Princess
He’s crunching  a bowl of something via spoon. I ask what it is. Crushed cheez-its and mayonnaise. What in the actual fuck this man is a literal monster
~~~
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Thursday 12:10pm
From Princess
Edible body paint works on windows. Had to sit on his shoulders but this is the largest ‘FUCK’ I have ever written. Very proud
~~~
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Thursday 12:22pm
From Princess
Bottom half of the ‘C’ has transferred onto my ass. But 7 orgasms. Pick your battles
~~~
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Thursday 11:47pm
From Princess
Tried a pickled habanero. He’s still face down in the rug crying with laughter. It’s been 10 min dude come on
~~~
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Friday 10:12am
From Princess
Me: Why are you so heavy?
Diego: I keep eating you
Me: High five
~~~
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Friday 3:17pm
From Princess
He’s trying to “conduct business” via 3 cellphones. Would offer my tablet but I’m too pretty for prison. Gonna take a nap
~~~
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Friday 4:41pm
From Princess
Pants are forbidden in the bedroom. We’re just making the rules up as we go I see
~~~
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Saturday 9:59am
From Princess
He’s sitting in the corner of the window walls staring dejectedly outside. I hear the tiniest forlorn whisper “THOSE people are outside”
Too cute--must blow---BRB
~~~
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Saturday 1:32pm
From Princess
Angry texting. Muttering “No I can’t go outside and no you can’t come in here. Bitch…. No no, delete delete delete”
Me:  Where is your sister anyway? LA?
Him: Very Squinty Eyes
~~~
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Saturday 9:22pm
From Princess
My ass is stuck in the kitchen sink. While he was very helpful getting me in here he is of no assistance getting me out.
~~~
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Saturday 11:46pm
From Princess
Apparently ‘douchecanoe twatwaffle jerkface’ is the most hilarious insult he has ever heard. My brilliance is unparalleled
~~~
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Sunday 5:51am
From Princess
Me: Hey what’s the worst thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?
Him outrageously offended: I’m not answering that!
Him:  ... you first
~~~
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Sunday 7:12pm
From Princess
Is it a legit massage if he has to pause in the middle to jack off?
~~~
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Monday 11:06am
From Princess
Ordered groceries via Amazon Prime drone delivery. Sitting on the rooftop patio wrapped up together in a ginormous blankie waiting.
Does this count as a date?
~~~
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Monday 1:13pm
From Princess
Drone arrived. I lost my shit. Coolest thing ever. He’s frantically ordering more stuff because I haven’t looked this ecstatic since the time he rubbed my feet then went down on me for 2 hrs
Hold up change of plans
~~~
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Monday 2:28pm
From Princess
stubble burn on bottom of feet :-/
~~~
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Monday 6:44pm
From Princess
We can both fit in the jacuzzi tub. Almost drowned when his phone rang and we both spazzed out
~~~
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Tuesday 10:10am
From Princess
Today’s formal edict: He will only be referring to himself in the 3rd person. I am required to do as told. Should not be this turned on
~~~
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Tuesday 11:58am
From Princess
Watching him try to answer calls like this is a level of hilarity I could not have predicted
~~~
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Tuesday 1:53pm
From Princess
He gave me a crash course in chem. Still don’t know anything but it was hot as hell
~~~
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Tuesday 2:57pm
From Princess
Despite all evidence to the contrary I’m a Good Girl. Did as I was told. Got rewarded. 13 times
~~~
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Tuesday 5:33pm
From Princess
Unlocked a tiny piece of tragic backstory*™: He’s never been to a zoo   :-(
~~~
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Wednesday 11:24am
From Princess
Julio and Bastian brought 4 pizzas. Currently eating them individually sitting in a giant square in the living room SOCIAL DISTANCING
Like he wasn’t inside me 10 min ago wtf
~~~
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Wednesday 11:25am
From Princess
Yes cute driver Bastian. Btw you are barking up the wrong tree girl. His favorite animal is bears lol
~~~
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Wednesday 12:39pm
From Princess
Garlic butter: lube or no? Round table discussion happening.
~~~
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Wednesday 1:19pm
From Princess
I won in favor of No
Me: slams hands down on table
Me: HAVE YOU EVER HAD A YEAST INFECTION???
All men present:   :-[
                             :-[
                             :-[
~~~
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Wednesday 1:32pm
From Princess
Diego: puts garlic butter cup in the empty box and slides the whole mess off table to the floor without breaking eye contact. My sugar daddy is truly a murder panther
~~~
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Wednesday 3:49pm
From Princess
Flipping channels (he only has 5000) when he comes downstairs from the bedroom wearing Ginormous Blankie as cape.
Him: Can we do the thing again?
Me: Gotta be way more specific babe
Him: Flaps blankie like wings and gives me puppy dog eyes
Him: You know. Thing. On the roof. ...please?
Did
Did he just ask me to cuddle???
~~~
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Wednesday 5:58pm
From Princess
Can confirm roof cuddles.  He fell asleep with his face mashed into my neck-shoulder after watching sunset. Every time I move he whimpers and squeezes tighter. I don't know what is happening but it kinda hurts in my chest
~~~
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Wednesday 9:12pm
From Princess
Me: You know those girls you send away when I come up? There's one that sorta begrudgingly likes me?
Him, stuffing a 2nd Oreo into his mouth(there's already a whole 1 in there)
Him: Frahnthessga?
Me: Yeah! Can I fuck her?
….I should worry about my job again pretty sure Murder Panther Sugar Daddy is dead
~~~
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Wednesday 10:48pm
From Princess
We splintered the plexiglass-divider-shower-wall thingy. His solution was to just hold all 215lbs of me up in the air and finish. I have no words
~~~
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Thursday 4:12am
From Princess
I can hear him on the phone downstairs listing names. I don't know these people. I'm going in the bathroom to run water so I can't hear anything else
~~~
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Thursday 9:02am
From Princess
I slept thru a breakfast meeting. There's a laptop  and a box of 1 doz Boston cream donuts labeled PRINCESS on the bar counter. He's watching news with Julio + Bastian on the couch. Odd but ok I got fave donuts so whatevs
~~~
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Thursday 9:17am
From Princess
On 3rd donut when I catch him staring. Can only see from eyes up bc he's peering at me over back of the couch. Have inadvertently activated Horny Murder Panther mode via accidental slutty licking of cream filling. 
~~~
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Thursday 11:40am
From Princess
Me: I don't like avocado
Diego: bitch what the fuck 
~~~
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Thursday 12:10pm
From Princess
He asked what the deal was with white people and meatloaf. I requested clarification on food or music. He's confused it's fucking adorable
BUT NOW I HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE ENTIRE GENRE OF CLASSIC ROCK
~~~
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Thursday 2:14pm
From Princess
I'm making a meatloaf for dinner. Also brownies. TV is still on???
~~~
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Thursday 4:24pm
From Princess
Found a big round can of guava paste in the back of the fridge. He's spoon feeding it to me while watching me make meatloaf
Diego: I did not realize you were so… domesticated
Me, no brain to mouth filter: Yeah well gettin dicked down 3x a day will do that to a girl
Please send hitman asap 
~~~
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Thursday 5:10pm
From Princess
He just turned TV off. Local news was listing all major crimes in NYC today. Last story was 6 bodies found inside meat plant freezer, execution style kills with "on-site" equipment. When I whisper Dafuq??  he distractedly mutters 'captive bolt pistol'  
He's texting again
~~~
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Thursday 5:39pm
From Princess
I kinda wanna come home now
~~~
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Thursday 7:48pm
From Princess
I have converted another person to meatloaf lover (food not music)
On 3rd brownie when he declares: I am never letting you leave again. Mine now
Look up from rolling my eyes to receive Super Intense I Can See Into Your Soul Diego Stare
~~~
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Thursday 9:50pm
From Princess
He's looking for a scary movie via voice command on remote. Other hand is on my foot. I can't even see my foot. What is the actual purpose of hands that big?? What is the evolutionary goal to this endgame? ?? Why am I wet just thinking about a    h a n d    ?????
~~~
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Friday 12:34am
From Princess
Con: This asshole is delighted to learn that I don't like scary movies
Pro: Hiding my face in his chest means I fucking feel the rumble when he laughs at me. I think I'm developing a heart condition. Hurts again.
~~~
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Friday 1:40am
From Princess
He's rubbing his face all over my stomach. I don't like this. Sir why. Please it's literally the least attractive part of me
~~~
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Friday 2:11am
From Princess
He likes it…? I don't see. How does. But it's.
No
~~~
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Friday 3:47am
From Princess
He's asleep on my stomach after spending 40 min declaring his love for belly
I'm crying and I can't stop. My whole chest hurts. What is this. Is this the most long game prank ever. There's no way he's for real. I'm afraid. Do you think I should try to escape?? Please you know I'm not easily frightened but I just. Please text back I need my BFF
~~~
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Friday 7:18am
From Princess
Woke up in bed alone and naked. Gonna grab a shirt and handle this. I can't just ignore it. This is probably a bad idea but I can't just let it go. If you don't hear back from me by noon call my parents. I love you
~~~
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Friday 11:38am
From Princess
Halfway down the stairs 3 dudes I don't know come out of the office, Diego and Julio follow. They take 1 look at me and launch into laughter and some rude fucking spanish. I'm rusty but I know fucking "fat bitch" tyvm. Diego picks this mf up by the throat and throws him into the elevator. Drags the other 2 in and... no one has come back since
Been locked in the bathroom. I'm afraid to hear anything
~~~
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Friday 1:48pm
From Princess
Relocated to closet earlier. Reading. I'm 2 chapters in and I don't even remember the title. Gonna take an ativan. Hands are shaking
~~~
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Friday 2:27pm
From Princess
You know what? I don't even care. Like as long as it's never directed at me I just don't care.
It's too late I'm in too deep. I don't know if I can even come home after this. I'm not who everyone thinks I am. I don't know who I am. I'm turning the phone off now I'm sorry but I just need everything to stop for a while
~~~
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Friday 7:48pm
From Princess
I'm ok, sorry for the dramatics. Woke up still in the closet corner but under Ginormous Blankie and can hear shower running. Decide it's time to put my big girl panties on and march in there. No I did not learn from the last time. Standby
~~~
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Friday 9:22pm
From Princess
We're good.
~~~
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Friday 11:49pm
From Princess
Ok. Marched into bathroom, launched into speech: I'm sorry but I did not know anyone was here. You have to leave me a note or something. Please tell me I did not ruin anything
Him, still in shower: Get your ass in here.
It was a literal growl
~~~
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Friday 11:50pm
From Princess
Apparently that guy had been fucking up small time and Diego was waiting for him to fuck up big time. I will never see all 3 of them again (No do not ask)Yes it was frustrating but not mad at me. Ok a little because his sister hired that guy and now he has to explain the dude's ...disappearance. Without mentioning me. No one can know about me I am a "liability"
Um ouch..? I think?? Chest pain again
~~~
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Friday 11:51pm
From Princess
He's been asleep, I'm just staring at the ceiling. Demanded I let him prove that he would never put hands on me that I don't want. I thought he was gonna cry. I did start crying but said yes. Not gentle per se, but definitely ...emotional? Like soft sex. Slow soft sex but with emotions?? I'm lost
~~~
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Friday 11:54pm
From Princess
Please tell me no. Talk me out of this. Tell me I'm fucknuts and I need to just come home and be reasonable and sensible. You know when you stand at a ledge and a little voice tells you Just jump. Do it. Go
Do I want all in? Can I do this? I should not do this. I should not care about him. Especially like this. I just. When I'm not here this is all I think about. No one else makes me feel this way
~~~
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Friday 11:56pm
From Princess
I'm hysterical right? This will go away if I just sleep. I can't stop looking at him. Touching his face, hair. Ever since the Kitchen Blowup (after the first fight??is it a fight if you're not technically in a relationship?) he's been different. Careful?? Like he really listened to me and heard. I can see him trying. Like reining in his knee jerk reactions and stopping to think before he says stuff to me. What am I supposed to do?
~~~
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Friday 11:59pm
From Princess
I want to trust him. I want to be spoiled and fucked senseless and all the giggles and private planes and shopping sprees and sleeping in til noon. But what about the other side? Constantly looking over my shoulder? Worrying that he might not come home from whatever the fuck he's out doing? The other actual supermodel hot women??? I'm not naive.
~~~
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Saturday 12:10am
From Princess
I just need to turn this off. Shut it down. Cut off emotions and just fuck. I can't do this and I can't have him for keeps. So it's time to be realistic. After this shitty quarantine ends I'll take whatever cash he wants to give me and go home. I can move if I have to. It's not hard to change your name these days. This whole nightmare will be the hilarious rumors in my future nursing home
~~~
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Saturday 4:44am
From Princess
Got up at like 350 for the bathroom. When I crawled back into bed he yanked me backwards to be smashed into/under him. Buried face into my hair and ordered:
Stop
Leaving
~~~
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Saturday 9:10am
From Princess
Woke up alone. Gathered shirt. Did surveillance from top of stairs. Music blasting. Bastian and Diego are working out. I had to sit down for a while
~~~
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Saturday 9:40am
From Princess
Finally made it down the stairs. Eating donuts while watching live action porn
~~~
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Saturday 10:27am
From Princess
Show's over. Diego announces he is going to shower with a wink. I am staying on this barstool with my donuts. I am determined
~~~
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Saturday 10:38am
From Princess
Sharing donuts with Bastian. He is staring at me
Me: ...wut?
Bastian: You know I haven't driven Franchesca anywhere in 4 months
I don't know how long I've been sitting here staring at this half eaten donut but Bastian is gone
Shower still running
~~~
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Saturday 1:36pm
From Princess
Slut level 7: Shower blowjob
Realized I have to wash my hair now. He demands to do it??
Diego: How much fucking conditioner is this going to take?
Me drooling blissfully: Uhhh... please not that word right now
...I literally heard Horny Murder Panther transition happen.
He did not touch anything but my head. Came via voice command. How the fuck
~~~
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Saturday 1:39pm
From Princess
Then it was Round 2 still dripping wet in the bed. No idea how he recovered that fast not looking gift horse in the mouth.  Haha   Horse
Also slow soft again? Does this mean something?? I feel like I'm missing some key piece of info. Never had a dude like kiss all over my face and stroke my hair. What is this gentle?? Don't like the whole looking into my eyes thing
~~~
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Saturday 3:02pm
From Princess
Received an assignment. Was trying to budget for next month (on my new laptop! Whole Microsoft office package!! SPREADSHEETS!!!)
Instructed to help fix what I fucked up…?
It's resumes. He wants me to look at resumes.   Um
~~~
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Saturday 4:12pm
From Princess
We traded laptops. I picked 3 resumes for 'warehouse labor'  This is fucking surreal
Got my laptop back and… all the internet tabs were closed?? I was paying all my bills dude wtf. His phone rings but before he walks off tells me the title will be mailed to me. ?????
~~~
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Saturday 4:47pm
From Princess
He's still in the office on the phone. I'm in the closet in shock. He paid my loans. He paid my Loans. He Paid My Fucking Loans OFF
CAR
STUDENT LOANS
$$$$$   30,000  $$$$$
THIRTY GRAND
~~~
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Saturday 4:52pm
From Princess
No you can't have him if I don't want him!! Fuck you
~~~
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Saturday 5:32pm
From Princess
Bastian came back, left a big box on the counter, said "This is for you honey" and left again. Diego still in the office.
...should I open it or wait for him to come out??
~~~
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Saturday 5:36pm
From Princess
Fuck it. I'm opening this shit
~~~
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Saturday 5:42pm
From Princess
It's a very large Brahmin bag.
Holy fuck its gorgeous 
~~~
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Saturday 5:47pm
From Princess
You know what? You Know What?
IT'S KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0 TIME
~~
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Sunday 8:42am
From Princess
I think we're ok? I actually uh, accidentally recorded um… everything-ish. And I might send it to you later. But right now things are kinda wobbly and I just wanna enjoy everything while I can. I'll check back in later. We're going to bed now
~~
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Sunday 1:58pm
From Princess
Woke up to 1 gigantic hand stroking down my back. 2nd hand stuffed up my pussy to the knuckle. Villain voice directly into left ear. Memory hazy after that
~~
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Sunday 3:01pm
From Princess
Do Oreos in bed at 3pm count as breakfast? My hips hurt
~~
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Sunday 6:40pm
From Princess
Ok we all know I'm very much A Freak. Trysexual if you will. Only way to know you don't like it is to try it right? So anal. Never really worked. Great in theory really unpleasant in practice.
Turns out others were trying to insert the wrong appendage. Related: I fucking love beards
e v e r y w h e r e
~~
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Sunday 10:40pm
From Princess
Yes I know you wanna know about KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0, someday I'll tell you about v.1. It's complicated. There are feels. I can't take the vague, wishy washy, up in the air status. So it went kinda like this
Me: You want to "keep" me? Wtf does that even mean?? And how, via purchasing me??? Don't get me wrong, I like being spoiled. I'm not an idiot. But you don't even know me
He looked like I stabbed him. It was horrible
~~
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Sunday 10:42pm
From Princess
So I laid it all out: I lived in my car for a while in my 20s. Escaped an abusive ex after 8 yrs. Survived cancer at 26. Did 2 rounds of trade school just to be scraping by at like $15 an hour. That you just paid off like it was nothing. You try to protect me from you and your life. But you have no idea what I've already survived.
So here's the deal: You wanna keep me?? Then I get to keep you.
But it's everything. If I can't have everything then I don't want anything. And if it can't be ONLY me then I gotta go. I'm not a back up plan or a convenience.
~~
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Sunday 10:50pm
From Princess
At this point I'm scream-crying, gesticulating like I'm hysterical. He's collapsed on the floor at my feet looking like I just killed his dog. Only makes me worse. I'm demanding an answer right fucking now. This is a disaster.
~~
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Sunday 10:54pm
From Princess
He starts yelling about how he can't keep me if I'm dead. This isn't a fucking game and I'm just like Do I look like I'm playing right now?!?
Lisa, he was crying. Just kept repeating "She's right. She's fucking right. That bitch is right."
Head in his hands sobbing.
I couldn't. 
~~
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Sunday 10:59pm
From Princess
So I got down on my knees in front of him and reached for his hands. Just like the first blowup. I was terrified because he's obviously not in control and like I don't know the things he does but I Know. And the PTSD from ex… but I finally got him to look at me and asked him to just Tell Me.
And he did.
~~~
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Monday 12:04am
From Princess
If you had told me that night in the club that any of this would happen. That this man was capable of everything these past 10 months have brought. I would've taken you to the hospital myself.
He collapsed on me and was just begging me "Don't go don't go. Please stay. Stay just for now. Please. No one else no one."  I have a lot to consider. Probably gonna be quiet for a few days. I'll text you when things calm down. He's asleep on my chest right now
~~~
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Monday 12:10am
From Princess
I mean 10 months...how many weekends have I been up here? 12? 16? And only twice did I reach out first and ask. I have stuff here. You saw the closet section. Every time I arrive there's coke and ketchup in the fridge. My face wash and toothbrush and a huge bottle of gel in the bathroom. Last time here he gave me the safe combo???
~~~
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Monday 12:14am
From Princess
YES THE SODA JFC
I mean, I've never seen ...other… in the fridge. I don't think it needs to be refrigerated???
I Don't Know Okay
~~~
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Monday 6:40am
From Princess
Woke up around 5 and he was just staring at me from like 2 inches away. He left once he realized I was awake. I didn't follow. He still hasn't come back to bed yet. Should I go find him?
~~~
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Monday 11:38am
From Princess
Found him on the couch. Coffee table covered in vast array of firearms. Did not realize there were so many in this penthouse. Little uncomfortable. But I'm a fast learner with good mechanical skills so now I can do gun stuff. Please don't ask me about it
~~~
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Monday 11:41am
From Princess
Ok yesss. We had the stupid movie cliche moment of big tough guy stands behind damsel to teach some physical skill. Gawd.
...yeah doing it feels better than watching. You happy now???
~~~
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Monday 2:28pm
From Princess
Mood swing. He declared vengeance on behalf of his closet. I have worn too many shirts. This cannot continue. ????? Stay tuned
~~~
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Monday 2:59pm
From Princess
This man runs the largest distribution enterprise in the western hemisphere.
Currently stuck in one of my $6 tank tops from Target. 
~~~
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Monday 4:17pm
From Princess
I'm out a tank top. And a thong. Go ahead and just think about that
...But I'm still wearing one of his shirts :-D
~~~
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Monday 5:48pm
From Princess
Instead of admitting defeat he decided to forcibly remove the shirt from me. Since I have to be difficult, I ran. If this place wasn't soundproof there would be so many police here.
What level of fucked up is it to enjoy screaming No!, while struggling, not less than 3 sec prior to orgasm??
~~~
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Monday 5:52pm
From Princess
The scale only goes to 10. You don't gotta be a bitch. Damn
~~~
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Monday 8:17pm
From Princess
14 days will be up this Thursday. But they're talking about extending it, really bad here. I'm scared. Gonna try a drink, maybe ativan because I'm starting to freak out.
~~~
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Monday 9:57pm
From Princess
Watching the news and I just sorta came unglued.  Diego not really a soft/gentle guy (obvs) but once I got thru a blubber-cry explanation of immuno-compromised and cancer treatment I got full lap cuddles. I want this every time I'm upset. Warm and solid and big hands and soft nuzzles and scratchy velvet cheek kisses. Feel so tiny and safe
~~~
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Monday 11:40pm
From Princess
Think I'm fukced up. Everything feels good. Petting all the things
~~~
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Monday 11:44pm
From Princess
I'm fiiiiine. One drink. Once ativan. Thats it
~~~
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Monday 11:49pm
From Princess
Omgod ill be fine it's good donot call me
~~~
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Monday 11:55pm
From Princess
What are fiddlesticks? Like the worrd not a instrument accessory?why do we say that
~~~
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Tuesday 7:42am
From Princess
Holy shit I slept so good. I looked back thru the texts. Wtf was I doing?? I don't remember any of this
~~~
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Tuesday 8:32am
From Princess
He's giving me that all teeth smile. I'm very suspicious. And surprisingly not horny?? Am I dying?
~~~
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Tuesday 9:46am
From Princess
Have been informed that I was very adorable last night. I'm afraid to learn his definition of adorable
~~~
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Tuesday 10:12am
From Princess
Omg he has 3 hours of video
~~~
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Tuesday 11:17am
From Princess
I spent 45 min yelling about Pluto planet status being revoked and the kilogram definition being forever altered. He was very invested in the 2nd part. Legit academic discussion
~~~
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Tuesday 11:49am
From Princess
Next part: I decided to make a fried egg sandwich. He started recording like a cooking show. I almost lit my hair on fire.
~~~
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Tuesday 11:57am
From Princess
Oh I see where everything went wrong. I had 1 drink and 1 ativan. Then I finished his drink. Then I drank his replacement. Why tf did he let me do that??
"You were so cute! How could I say no to this face, bonita?"
...I will remember that
~~~
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Tuesday 12:13pm
From Princess
Apparently we exchanged playlists. This is not good
~~~
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Tuesday 12:28pm
From Princess
Omg I revealed the Murder Panther Sugar Daddy title. Oh fuck. Shit shit shit
~~~
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Tuesday 12:42pm
From Princess
I spent 40 min petting him all over while listing everything I liked and why. He is going to be insufferable for forever after this
~~~
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Tuesday 1:22pm
From Princess
Lisa. Lisa. Holy shit. He said we made a porno. I laughed. He fucking narrated an opening to it. I am dying  I am going to die   I am dead
Him, offscreen: Diego and Bicki make a Porno!
Me, onscreen, twerking on the bed in lace bra
Me: eeeeeeeeeeeeeee ASS AND TITTIES!!!
Diego pops into shot, giggling: Pretty Princess Pussy!!
The whole thing just dissolved into shaky blur and us laughing hysterically
~~~
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Tuesday 1:24pm
From Princess
No I'm not sharing it. What is wrONG WITH YOU??????
~~~
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Tuesday 3:44pm
From Princess
It… did not go the way I thought it would. And apparently he had not watched it either because we were both surprised.
That. Was not sex. Seeing the soft slow with emotions from the outside was pretty damning.
That was lovemaking
~~~
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Tuesday 6:32pm
From Princess
I'm locked in the bathroom. Everything is fucked.
I just… I just hid my face and said "I want to go home." Like a fucking coward hiding behind my hair, I took off upstairs and now I'm here. It's been a long time. I'm still alone
~~~
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Tuesday 6:39pm
From Princess
No shit Sherlock, I know I have intimacy issues.
Men don't love me. Sure I'm fun to fuck for a while. But they don't take a poor fat girl home. Come on, you've seen it firsthand. Clearly, since here I still am by myself
~~~
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Tuesday 6:42pm
From Princess
I don't know what I was thinking. I don't belong here. Guess I'll just ride out the last 2 days then come home
~~~
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Tuesday 6:45pm
From Princess
I think Julio is here. I can hear their voices but can't make out the words
Oh no his sister is here. They're yelling in Spanish, I can't catch any of it
~~~
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Tuesday 10:14pm
From Princess
They screamed for a while, then she finally left. Been silent ever since. I don't know if he's still here
~~~
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Tuesday 10:40pm
From Princess
He's definitely still here. There's a tantrum going on
~~~
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Wednesday 12:32am
From Princess
Fell asleep in the closet corner again. Except when I woke up he was wedged in there with me
Me: … um
Diego: I think I see why you do this
Then he went to sleep on me
~~~
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Wednesday 5:48am
From Princess
Have been talking since 3. Still in the closet.
~~~
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Wednesday 7:10am
From Princess
I'm coming home when this is over. I need some time and space to think. 
~~~
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Wednesday 7:12am
From Princess
Is that even the right term? Do you 'break up' with a sugar daddy???? 
~~~
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Wednesday 7:13am
From Princess
NO I WANT TO KEEP HIM
BITCH I WILL STAB YOU
~~~
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Wednesday 7:16am
From Princess
Gonna shower and go to bed. You mention that last text and I literally will stab you. BFF or not
~~~
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Wednesday 4:40pm
From Princess
Just listened to an hour of descriptions of Mexico.
I am… tempted
~~~
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Wednesday 6:54pm
From Princess
I'm flying home Friday, they just lifted the travel ban here.
~~~
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Wednesday 6:59pm
From Princess
No, no one is happy here. We're both clingy disasters today
~~~
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Wednesday 7:17pm
From Princess
Went downstairs. It's a war zone. We came back upstairs 
~~~
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Thursday 6:19am
From Princess
Couldn't sleep so I'm packing. Diego is watching me from the bed with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes in existence.
Effect kinda ruined because I can see his bare ass
~~~
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Thursday 6:22am
From Princess
Why would you ask me that? You know he's an exhibitionist 
~~~
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Thursday 6:23am
From Princess
I can't decide if you're the Best or the Worst BFF ever. Gawd
~~~
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Thursday 6:25am
From Princess
...IMAGE LOADING…
~~~
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Thursday 6:27am
From Princess
Yeah. You see my dilemma now???
~~~
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Thursday 6:28am
From Princess
Yes I bite it! What is wrong with you today???
~~~
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Thursday 6:43pm
From Princess
He spent entire day attached to me. I..??? What do I do with a clingy cartel boss drug lord?? Its too much
~~~
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Friday 8:52am
From Princess
I'm on the plane. He rode here with me. Looked so… broken. Feel like a monster. But I'm scared
~~~
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Friday 1:45pm
From Princess
Lisa. LISA. LISA.
I'm home but but he. Omg
~~~
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Friday 2:38pm
From Princess
There's a tiny stuffed panther in my bag with a note:  I just want to be with you
My very own Tiny Murder Panther 
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43 notes · View notes
notesbymari · 5 years ago
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studyblr 2020 quarantine challenge
So I totally forgot to keep posting everyday this challenge and I was too lazy to take the pictures, so I’m gonna post it only weekly, like I did for the first week.
I'm so so late for this challenge, things have been hectic here at home, my grandpa is really sick and his health really took a turn for the worse (not covid) so we're just trying to take care of him the best we can without having to admit him to the hospital (now with the covid pandemic, the hospitals cut down all of visitations, and they wouldn't let my grandma stay with him because of the risks of covid and her age.... so we're trying to keep him at home so my grandma can stay with him, staying away from her would only worsen his health)
Week 2
Monday, March 30th - Take a picture of your desk/study space
   One of my favorite places to study! I like to study in my bed too, but here my back is more comfortable and I have more space to put my books and pens and stuff, even though it is not very big and I could use a lot more space.
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Tuesday, March 31st - Take a picture of the book you are currently reading
    Just finished re-reading Crown of Midnight by Sarah J. Maas. I really wanted to read Heir of Fire now, but if I keep on reading all the books of this series one after another, after I finish all of them I wouldn’t be able to read another author’s book for a while.... So I thought I would give a try on Night Film, by Marisha Pessl, heard great things about it (my sister really liked it and gave it 5 stars, and she’s quite picky when ranking the books she read).
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Wednesday, April 1st - Take a picture of your most colourful notes
Didn’t have time to take a picture as I’m spending most of my afternoons in my grandma’s house, but anyways my notes in this semester haven’t been as colorful as the ones from other years, and I didn’t have time to look for my older notes to get a really colorful one. 
Thursday, April 2nd - Take a picture of the pens/highlighters that you could not live without
For colored pens, I keep switching the ones I use every semester between some brands I have at home (sometimes bismark, stabilo, glitter gel pens, ballpoint colored pens), so don’t really have a favorite one. 
I think the only pen that is a complete must have in my pencil case is the BIC crystal fine 0.8mm blue pen (I have a lot of those, been using them since middle school)...I’ve tried a lot of other ballpoint 7mm tip pens from other models and brands, but they always end up having flaky ink, the tint fades out with use, or the writing stops being as smooth as before.... This is the only one that I almost have no problems with (there’s always one or two of these that do all of that as well, but usually is just a matter of bad luck, they’re most of the times flawless).
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Friday, April 3rd - Take a picture of the view outside your window
Not very exciting, I know, but I can't complain, at least I get the sunlight throughout all of the afternoon shining down on my bed :)
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Saturday, April 4th - Take a picture of a meal you’ve cooked or something you’ve baked
Carrot cake! Recipe by my grandma.
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Sunday, April 5th - Take a picture of some of your art or doodles  
Don’t have any recent art or doodles really, and I was too lazy to look up for my old art (also didn’t want to show art that was made ages ago)... I’ve been trying to catch up and go back to drawing during this quarantine, I’m planning to do some canvas paintings of my dogs, but haven’t gone much farther than drawing the drafts on paper. 
29 notes · View notes
jeonggukkiepabo · 5 years ago
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WHERE DID YOU SLEEP LAST NIGHT? 01
Summary: You are one of Call your Babes most popular escort ladies, most of your weekdays were booked out by different businessmen. Usually, your Mondays were reserved for Kim Taehyung, your Tuesdays were always spent with Park Jimin, Wednesdays were your days off and Thursday was one of your favorite days, because Min Yoongi was by far the man with the best taste when it came to restaurants and bars. But then, Jeon Jungkook asked you out for a real date, which you haven’t had since you started your job. Would you take the offer?
Warnings: kind of poly relationship in upcoming parts, this one is just fluff tho, not really smutty besides a bit of making out with yoongi
Word Count: 4.5K
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Most of your friends hated their jobs. Well, most people on earth hated their jobs. Almost as if it’s normal to hate whatever you’re doing to earn your coin. You could understand that, though. After and during school, you’ve worked in retail for some years and hated it as well: being nice to costumers, always smiling and not being able to let out any kind of anger. But that was ages ago, when you were still in your teenage years and didn’t bother to look out for a real, well paid job. Until you met one of your – by now - closest friends, Mi-Sun, at the Time Square Mall in Seoul four years ago. You were wandering through the mall, looking for cute outfits, when she approached you, asking you if you were currently looking for a well paid and fun job that didn’t take a lot of work – who were you to say no to that?
Days later, you first signed into Call-Your-Babes.kr, uploading some pictures of yourself and filling in any required information about yourself. Once you looked through some of your new colleagues, you couldn’t help but gasp at their beauty. All those women looked like goddesses, you were sure your ordinary self wouldn’t get booked as easily as those more professional and better-known women. To your surprise, it didn’t even take Kim Taehyung more than three days to find your profile, already booking you for a business dinner with his coworkers without even getting to know you first. He just wrote one simple message:
I’d love to see you in blue, it’d suit your eyes well.
I can’t wait to see you in person, I hope you like Lobster.
Kim Taehyung
That’s it. He didn’t even tell you anything about himself, about this meeting or gave a hint about what behavior he was expecting from you. Were you just going to eat with him and all the other men? Were you supposed to touch him, laugh about his jokes and call him Babe in front of those people you didn’t know? What would be the best outfit to wear? Of course, he suggested you to wear blue, but would a blue dress top be enough? Probably not. Sighing, you decided that this was the perfect time to go for an online shopping hunt, ordering different dresses, but also some more casual outfits that consisted of jeans and blouses, some shirts and cardigans. Hopefully, not every one of your dates would be this formal.
Once the day of your first date came by, you were more than just nervous. It wasn’t like you were on a lot of dates, your male encounters were usually just some quick fucks you found in some night clubs or bars, but none of them ever took you out on a date, especially not for fancy sea food. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you liked lobster or not. It was one of those foods you never tried because it looked disturbing to you, just like every other kind of seafood.
You’ve been talking to Mi-Sun about the etiquette, about how you were supposed to act and talk towards Kim Taehyung, how touchy you should be and that your smile was the most important thing.
Luckily, Kim Taehyung picked you up by himself, leaving you at least a few minutes to get to know him a bit. You were just about to finish your hair, already dressed in an ocean blue dressed that hugged your body perfectly fine, combined with some black platform heels that made your legs look even longer, as your doorbell rang. You quickly applied a thin layer of peachy gloss onto your lips before grabbing your purse – in which you kept some pepper spray, just for safety reasons -, before walking towards the door, opening it for the handsome man that was waiting outside.
When you read Kim Taehyung’s name, you were thinking about some man in his mid-forties, not that unbelievably attractive man that didn’t seem older than 25. Heat rushed through your face and you were sure that your foundation couldn’t even hide your blush as you held out your hand for him to shake. “Mister Kim, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir.” You bowed down slightly, a smile still plastered on your face as he started talking as well, his deep voice leaving tingles running through your stomach. “Just call me Taehyung, Y/N. I’m glad you accepted my request, I’m new to this Escort business, but this meeting is full of old, rich men that want to brag with his ladies – which are probably just booked, too”, he sighed with a frown before shrugging it off. “Anyways, I’m sure this evening will be boring as fuck, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyways. I don’t need you to act like a stupid girl, laugh about all my jokes or anything, just be yourself, that’s why I chose you. You don’t seem as fake as all those other women did.” Then, he smiled at you, teeth on display. It was one of that smiles, that you just felt the urge to return. It was a smile that made you feel safe.
It turned out that Taehyung even drove to you by himself, not wanting a chauffeur to drive him around. “Why else did I spent months on my license?” was all he said about that. The drive was a little more than twenty minutes, allowing the two of you to have a relaxed talk, getting to know each other a bit better. Allowing you to calm down, relaxing your tense shoulders as you grew quite… comfortable?
Taehyung just recently took over his father’s company, lead by him and his cousin Kim Namjoon, but Namjoon wasn’t the one to attend business meetings, he enjoyed paperwork, planning anything and taking over financial tasks, but meetings were part of Taehyung’s job. Taehyung was 19 to that time, even younger than you expected him to be, and didn’t even plan to take over this business – but his father didn’t give him a chance to say no, he didn’t even need to go through years and years of university. Studying wasn’t necessary for Kim Taehyung, he grew up inside a business empire, he was born to take over the world.
He even asked you little things about yourself, where you came from, why you chose this kind of job and it seemed like he was really interested in you, not just your body and your attendance. Even after that short little drive, you were sure Kim Taehyung was the best start you could’ve had in that business – and you really started to like him.
Oh, and how right he was when he said that most of those other “dates” were probably booked as well – you’ve seen some faces on the same website you were registered. Chuckling to yourself, you leant over to whisper into Taehyung’s ear. “Mikaela, Betty and Kyra are from Call your Babes. Betty is kinda cheap though, only 180.000 Won per night.” Giggling, you pulled away and smiled at him with a challenging grin. “At least you know your worth, love”, Taehyung answered and grabbed your hand into his much larger one, rubbing your palm with his thumb as he scooted closer to your side. “But, how did you make up your price? You know, 430.000 Won is quite a price for a simple dinner date.” His breath tickled your neck, leaving you shivering under gaze. You simply shrugged your shoulders, answering truthfully. “I just typed in whatever price was just a bit higher than average. I didn’t want cheap, disgusting guys by my side for an entire evening. And don’t worry, maybe the second evening will be cheaper once you fulfill my requirements, Oppa.” Now it was Taehyung’s turn to let out a tiny gasp, eyes turning a bit darker as he tried to concentrate on his actual meeting.
Once everyone finished their food, the meeting came to a rather abrupt ending, leaving Taehyung and yourself in his sportscar, actually talking about the good deal he just made. “I can’t believe that they want to sell me parts of their company”, he shakes his head in disbelief, shooting his precious boxy smile at you, “That’s all thanks to you, Y/N! You were so charming and wrapped them around your finger. But not only them, me too.” You laughed it off, complimenting him on his strategic conversations and charming personality that had absolutely nothing to do with yourself being there as well. “You could’ve done that without me too, Taehyung. Your father picked the right one for this company.”
You were kind of sad once he parked his car in front of your house, even helping you out of the car, but not following you inside as you would have wished. Instead, he hugged you tightly, placing a soft peck on top of your hair, thanking you again for the evening. “I’m sure I’ll leave a good rating on your site, but would you mind keeping me company on future meetings too?”, Taehyungs eyes glistered in anticipation, his smile and blushing cheeks making it impossible for you to decline that offer. “Sure, Taehyung. I really enjoyed the evening! Thank you, really.” You bowed slightly before pressing a kiss on the left side of his cheek before walking towards your apartment complex, waving him one last goodbye.
That was how you met Taehyung, who was now, 4 years later, still one of your favorite costumers. You usually met every Monday, sometimes because of business meetings, sometimes just to hang out together – sometimes paid, sometimes for fun and games.
The week after your first date with Taehyung, another young man, Park Jimin, asked you to accompany him to some nightclub opening. Other than Taehyung, he called you by himself instead of leaving a message on your profile. You end up talking to him for almost an hour, loving the way your name rolled off his tongue whenever he asked you something. His voice was soft and calming, which you welcomed this evening as you laid down in your bed, the phone placed between your cheek and shoulder as you scrolled through Netflix, trying to find a show to watch.
“What kind of music to you like, Y/N?”, Jimin asked you as he was scrolling through his Spotify account, always trying to find new music for his club, something that wasn’t in the normal Top 50 Hip Hop charts. You smiled at his question but felt like your answer wouldn’t fully satisfy him. “I like… a lot of music, I guess. I don’t want to specify on one genre. I mean, I could dance to anything, but whenever I listen something in the car, it’s mostly something that lifts me up. As long as I can sing along, I really don’t mind.” Jimin laughed at your answer, chuckling softly into the phone. “Okay, well then, name the song you just listened to before I called you.” Giggling, you checked your own Spotify account, clicking onto the paused song to play it for him.
Oh, it’s such a strange and unforgiving life, and no matter what no one makes it out alive,
So, we should spend more time wondering why we fight, instead of hiding love on the edge of all our knives.
I wish I had the answers, I wish I had the time, to give you all the reasons why it’s worth it down the line.
Well maybe I don’t have the answers, maybe we could find the time, because there’s people crying, people crying every night.
Jimin listened quietly, enjoying the soft beats and relaxing voice of the singer, but kept wondering about one thing. “Didn’t you say you like uplifting music? I feel like that would pull me down instead of lifting my mood bright for the day.” You pressed the pause button again, nodding at his statement. “I guess I just was in the mood for something calm. I like listening to A R I Z O N A whenever I come home, it ends my workday perfectly fine. But, Jimin, what do you like listening to? As a night club owner, you must have had a rough time deciding which music should be played in your clubs. Is it the stereotypical chart music? Or do you go for EDM? Hip Hop? I can’t really think of a genre right now that would suit you”, you teased him, even though you were really interested in his answer.
“It’s hard to explain, I feel like it’s a good mixture of rap, but I also enjoy alternative rock. Some days, our DJ goes in for some Indie too, especially during the summer nights where people usually don’t dance that much but prefer enjoying cocktails and deep talks. But for this week’s opening, our motto will be music icons – everything from huge artists will be played, so everyone will have at least a few songs to dance to.” You were surprised by his answer, probably thinking that he’d rather be a K-Pop fan. “That sounds great, Jimin! I can’t wait, I haven’t been to a club in a while. Is there anything special you want me to wear?” You shifted in your bed, grabbing a random piece of paper to scribble down his answer – which, to your surprise, was simple enough for you to not having to write it down. “No, I’ll be fine with anything you’re comfortable in. There’s no specific dress code, choose something you could dance in, it’s probably going to be a long night so think of that too. To be honest, I love girls in casual outfits, but like I said, wear something you feel good in. I’m not in the position to tell you what to wear, Y/N. I don’t want to be in that position. Listen, I need to go, but I’d love to pick you up next Tuesday, okay? Be ready at around 4 PM, I’ll take you out for dinner first. See you!” You smiled, mumbling a soft “Can’t wait”, before Jimin ended the call.
Even before Tuesday came around, you got booked spontaneously for the next day, some musician, Min Yoongi, asked you to be part in his music video. He fortuitously found your profile as he was searching for some women to play the role but found you perfect and decided that he needed you for it. This was something you would’ve never thought could happen – dancing in front of a camera. Of course, acting took some part of your job, as you’ve had to act as the perfect little girlfriend for your dates, but playing that role in front of a camera? In a music video that will be ending up on youTube and maybe even on TV? You weren’t too sure if that was your cup of tea, but Min Yoongi seemed to nice that you decided to give it a shot – and you didn’t regret it.
Min Yoongi was something that you would probably call a spirit animal, because the longer you’ve been talking to him, you felt like you were soulmates. He took his music serious, even though you didn’t like rap you couldn’t deny that he was a master at what he did. His lyrics made you tear up the first time you listened to the song you were about to shoot. Unlike you’d imagined, he wasn’t as cold hearted as people might be thinking. He cared about his employees, made sure they took breaks during the shoot, he even forced you to eat because you confessed that you forgot to grab some breakfast on your way to the location. You didn’t shoot a scene together yet, sadly, but he made sure to keep you company whenever neither of you was busy.
“You’re dancing quite well, Y/N”, Yoongi complimented you, giving you one of his rare smiles. “I took some classes a while ago, nothing special though.” You shrugged, yawning a bit during your exhaustion. The last time you checked your phone it was almost 7 PM, you’ve been working for solid 9 hours by now. “But when did you learn to rap like that? Eminem for sure isn’t the Rap God anymore.” Yoongi gasped, pressing his palm against your mouth. “Don’t say that! Eminem. Is. The. King. Of. Rap.” Your eyes widened at the sudden body contact, giggling at his reaction. Then, you licked his hand, causing him to scream out very unmanly. “Ew, Y/N!” He rubbed his now wet hand against your cheek, trying to get rid of your saliva, not caring that your thin layer of makeup smudged because of that. “That is very unhygienic.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes and mumble “As if you’ve never had your tongue down someone’s throat” before getting up to shoot the next scene – Yoongi following you. “Baby, of course I have. And in a few minutes, it’ll be your throat.” Your breath hitched as you turned around to look at him, a proud smirk plastered onto his plump lips. “Last scene is a make out scene”, he bit his lip as he pointed towards the grey couch innocently. “Hope you don’t have a problem with that.”
You shook your head with a confident smile. Yoongi was attractive, you were absolutely not declining this opportunity. “Come on then, show me if your tongue can to other things than just rap fast.” With a deep growl, Yoongi pulled you flat against his chest, lowering his head to be next to yours, the following sentence causing goosebumps to cover your entire body. “I will show you, but my tongue usually prefers other lips. But don’t worry, I’m a quite decent kisser too.”
As soon as the video director gave you his go, the track started to play again in the background. You tried to get back into your role, but Yoongi’s confession made it hard for you to even concentrate on breathing, how were you supposed to act by now? To your luck, he helped you with the situation, taking the lead and after some sort of erotic dance, he turned you around and pressed his lips against yours, allowing you to taste him as your tongues gently touched each other’s. Ignoring the cameras and bright lights around you, you pressed yourself even more against the handsome man in front of you, grabbing his mint green hair to deepen the kiss. Quiet mewls left your mouth without you being able to stop them, but you already felt that Yoongi couldn’t contain himself as well. His breathing got faster, almost as if he just ran a marathon and as the kiss ended with the direction screaming “Cut!”, the two of you just stared at each other in awe.
Well, ever since that night, Yoongi was one of your favorite friends with benefits whenever he wasn’t on tour, you could hang out with him, watching movie and doing all those things you’d do with your best friend, but most nights ended in a rough fuck without breakfast. It always depended on his mood. He could be loving, gentle and cuddly – but most of the time, Min Yoongi was radiating such dominant vibes that you didn’t even mind to ask him for back scratches or omelets in the morning.
Your first date with Jimin was something different, though. Just like Taehyung and Yoongi, you were surprised at how handsome Park Jimin was. His face was bright like the sun, a wide smile plastered onto his, definitely kissable, lips. It was a smile that actually reached his eyes, a smile that made you turn shy and smile as well. “Hello, Park Jimin.” You held your hand out for him to shake, but Jimin reached out to pull you into a tight hug. “Hello, beautiful. Jimin is fine with me, Y/N. I’m not that much older than you, no need to get formal here. You look great!” He stepped back to take a look at your outfit, some black ripped jeans with an oversized band shirt that you simply tied right above your belly button, exposing a little skin, but not as much as other women would in a club. You thanked him, twirling around once. “When a man buys me for a night, telling me I could wear something comfortable? I’m already in love with you, Jimin.” Jimin gasped, placing a hand above his heart. “That’s why you love me? Not because I’m a rich night club owner with a charming look? I’m disappointed in you, Y/N.” Then the both of you burst out in a fit of laughter while Jimin guided you towards his car, even opening the door for you before driving off to the restaurant’s location.
You weren’t even surprised that, instead of an overpriced restaurant, Jimin chose a burger place. “Fuck, I’m so hungry”, you groan as you read through the menu, looking for the biggest burger. Once the waitress took on your order, Jimin raised an eyebrow at your decision. “I’ve never been on a date with a woman that preferred burger and fries with iced tea over a salad and diet coke. Now it’s my turn to confess my love for you.” You grinned, poking out your tongue as you took a large gulp of your coke. “If you keep on complimenting me, I might even share a milkshake with you afterwards, Jimin.”
In the end, you didn’t just share a milkshake, Jimin ordered the biggest piece of cheesecake available, topped with peanut butter and Oreos, sprinkled with chocolate chips and, much to your liking, he asked for extra chocolate syrup on top. By now, your stomach felt more than just bloated, jeans tighter than before, but you were incredibly happy. “Thank you, Jimin. Really. I’m glad you didn’t take me out for seafood.” Jimin shook his head, guiding you back to his car. “Seafood doesn’t mix well with alcohol, the burger though, it will soak up most of it during the night.”
Jimin’s club was completely different from what you thought – this guy seemed to surprise you more and more the longer you know him. Most clubs you’ve went to were crowded and filled with smoke, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes, drunk ass people grinding against each other to weird R’n’B beats that you just didn’t like dancing to. But Jimin’s club? It wasn’t as dark, didn’t stink of disgusting smells that blocked your senses, instead soft lights were dancing through the room, incense sticks and humidifier slightly enveloping the room with the lovely scent of vanilla and coffee. As for music, Nirvana’s ‘Where did you sleep last night’ was blasting through the speakers, men and women dancing through it on the dance floor, causing you to whip to the beat as well. “Do you want to dance, Y/N?”, Jimin smiled at you, watching you in satisfaction, glad you liked the ambience. “Yes, please! I love Nirvana – it just doesn’t happen to be played in a club that much. Would you dance with me, though?” You pouted slightly, grabbing Jimin’s hand and pulling him with you, away from business contacts and right into the fun. His soft, light pink hair became a mess really quick, sweat glistered on his forehead and lip and his cheeks were flushed as you danced through 4 songs in a row.
“I’m already out of breath”, Jimin gasped as you walked to the bartender, ordering some alcoholic drinks along with some water for your dry throats. “That’s a shame. A night club owner that doesn’t last longer than 4 songs? Park Jimin, I’m disappointed.” You loved teasing him and you quickly found out that Jimin enjoyed it too, smiling with a dangerous spark in his eyes. “Usually, I last much longer than 4 rounds, you’re the first woman ever to complain, Y/N. And to be honest, I don’t really like to dance to Amy Winehouse”, he points towards the dance floor, couples hugging each other as they slowly danced to ‘Back to Black’, “I prefer drinking to her songs. Bottoms up, Y/N!” And with that, the two of you quickly downed shot after shot, the more shots you drank, Jimin became a party animal, showing off his fantastic dance moves as he ‘woo’-ed to almost every song that was playing. For a night club owner in his opening night, he didn’t do much of his job this day. But Jimin? He loved it, loved getting loose, loved forgetting about all the past couple days that left him more than just a little bit anxious. He was tense, but all the tension slowly faded as you embraced him in a tight hug, your sweaty face pressed against his firm chest as you slowly swayed to ‘Bed of Roses’ by Bon Jovi.
“I’m really enjoying your company, Y/N”, Jimi slurred as he moved your bodies back and forth. “I do too, Jimin”, you mumbled, lips pressed against his chest as you closed your eyes, “But I’m really wasted, how late is it?” “Probably somewhat around 5 AM, I guess. People are already leaving, the DJ plays songs like this to get the last ones out as well.” Jimin’s voice was deep, rough and just as tired as yours was, not wanting to speak any more than necessary. “Do you want to head home too?”, he asks politely, cupping your face as he looks at you. “Yeah, would you mind? Or do you want to keep on celebrating?” Jimin laughs, shaking his head as he guided you towards the exit, calling a cab for the two of you. “Only if we celebrate in your bed whilst watching Lilo & Stitch as we cuddle”, he suggested, making your eyes sparkle in excitement. “Lilo & Stitch? That’s a yes from me, suddenly I’m wide awake!”, you squeak once you’re in the cab, giving your address to the driver that was probably sick enough of drunk people for this night.  
Well, Park Jimin crashed over at your apartment this night, but instead of wild, kinky sex, all you did was cuddle, eat cereals and watched Lilo & Stitch.
Your three boys quickly became the most important people in your life, they weren’t just costumers anymore, all of them grew to be close friends of yours. But not only friends, each of them was some sort of lover to you, fulfilling different needs you had in bed, but neither of them could be called your boyfriend. You weren’t into labeling things, not until that one day, were you accidentally bumped into that cute guy whilst you were out for burgers with Jimin.
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babystevie · 5 years ago
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Crossing Paths
Chapter 6: Realization
Find on AO3: Here
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Steve was covered in sweat.
Covered, in oil, and dirt, and overall looked like he hasn’t taken the time to relax since he’s gotten back from fuckin’ Hawkins. The hellmouth, bullshit part of his life he wished would just bury itself deep into the ground. Go so far under that it would turn upside down.
But it probably won’t.
So here he is, working on getting the motor out of Dustin’s’ destroyed car, that he flipped eight times, down the damn street.
It’s not like he meant too.
His fuckin’ hairs a mess, Jesus he’s a mess, but he doesn’t care, because Dustin’s currently not talking to him, being a goddamn baby about it. After he yelled and screamed for an hour when Steve and Robin got back to Miami, after being beatin’ again. Then started crying like he was the one hurt, which made Steve cry, and then Robin cried,
And
He’s been in the shop, all weekend. Takin’ anything that’s still useful out of the wrecked car to put it into a new car he bought, even if it ‘won’t be the same’ or whatever.
Dustin will have to just deal with it.
Because in the last two days, he dropped almost 20,000 dollars on a car that isn’t even his but he’s the one who wrecked the thing, so he’s the one that has to pay for it, and he’s the one that has to fix it.
And
He just complaining.
Because, he knows that Dustin’s the only little shit that cares enough, because he’s family. The only real family they both have left, besides Robin, Lucas, and even Jonathan.
For fucks sake.
The kids are both seventeen now, and they race with him on the streets, and now he’s teaching another little shit to drift a car he hit a wall with, goin’ 130 into a tunnel at night. And this kids Billy’s sister.
And
Their both Hargrove’s, and Steve’s the reason their dads rotting away in a cell, and the last time he spoke to Neil Hargrove, he shot him after Jonathan hit him with his car for fuckin’ trying to kidnap Lucas because the kid was black and needed to be dealt with or some fuckin’ bullshit that made Steve’s insides churn and his throat get tight,
Because it was Steve’s fault, because Neil was a cop from California or some shit, and he got transferred to Miami, and Lucas met Max, because Steve introduced them after he saw the gleam in Max’s eyes after he met her during a drift event on accident and told her he’d teach her how to play with the big dogs for money.
And then he shot her fuckin’ dad.
And
Turn, Clink, Turn, Clink
The feeling of the tool in his hands as he removed the wheels off the mutilated car, was keeping him from have a full blown fuckin’ panic attack because, because Steve was hanging out with his kids now. And they didn’t know Steve is the reason their dads in prison.
And
He removes the final wheel from the car where it sits on the lift, and they’re fucked, all four of the wheels have been scratched all to hell, and now he can relate to wheels being scratched because he’s scratched, because he flipped a car eight damn times.
And
He needs to focus.
And he needs to take his medicine, all this medicine for all his damn problems, but he needs to get this car done, because Dustin’s gotta race Sunday before he goes back to school Monday,
Because he’s a senior now.
And
The garage door opens, and Steve whips around and Billy’s standing right there looking at Steve with a kinda dark look that makes him a little nervous. It looks like Billy’s looking through him with those blue, blue eyes, taking in the state he’s in. Which is just overall dirty. Covered in oil and sweat from the heat inside the shop to keep the cold outside. And his hairs a mess, which makes Steve feel kinda embarrassed, because even though Billy’s now seen him with his face fucked up, and it still is kinda fucked up because the stitches haven’t come out yet.
At least his hair didn’t look like what it does now. Messy and most likely all over the damn place.
He hasn’t looked in a mirror for a while.
And they maintain eye contact until Billy’s eyes drift down to where the brace on his leg is now gone, and scrunches his mouth into a slight sneer like he’s rememberin’ it or something and brings his eyes back up to Steve and the dark look comes back and Steve tilts his head in confusion because,
What’s he…?
Ohhhh  
The stitches.
Steve chuckles a bit, trying not to think about Billy being worried about him, Jesus Christ, and runs his hand through his disgusting hair and tries to hide his grimace,
“C’mon, help me with this.” He points his finger to the 350z next to him, “Don’t just stand there.” It only takes a second before Billy walks forward but his eyes are still on Steve as he turns around to try and get the door to the car open,
He suddenly remembers what he’s wearing and tries not to freak the fuck out. He’s got a fucking tank top on, which means, it means that the entirety of his arm is on display. And he’s wearing shorts which also means that Billy can see his leg, and the scars that run down them from monsters, Billy doesn’t know exist, and he scrunches his face, crinkles his nose, trying to hide that freak out, that can fuckin’ wait until he gets home.
“What do you want me to do pretty boy?” Billy asks, eyes still locked on him, grin in place of his previous expression, that Steve refuses to notice.
Steve blows his hair out of his face and wipes his face to hide the blush that surely entering his face and replies, “I’ve gotta get the interior out, and put it in that.” Pointing at the other 350z sitting below his supra on another lift in the shop, “then, I’ve gotta put the motor in it, paint it so it doesn’t look ‘stupid’” he quotes with his fingers, “make sure its running strong so Dustin can race tomorrow night.”
Billy’s eyebrows raise, “You sure you can do that by tomorrow gorgeous?”
Steve rolls his eyes, “Jonathans doing some of it tomorrow morning, because I’ll be with Max to help her practice, but yes I can get it done, I’m highly focused when I wanna be.”
Billy scoffs with a smile on his face,
“Plus, I have you now.” Steve states with a small smile, “If you know what you’re doin’ anyways.” He finishes with a smirk, with slightly pleading eyes.
Steve knows that its not a good enough apology, he knows that Billy should say no and walk away, because, because the look on Billy’s face when he had lied to him, and then left campus with Robin on Thursday was a dick move. Even he’s not stupid enough to know that Billy realized that he lied to him about something.
Steve’s not good at a lot of things and lying is definitely one of them. He can’t maintain eye contact, and his voice goes real unsure. And he still did it anyways, because it keeps Billy safe.
And
Billy nods his head yes, “I’ll show you how it’s really done Bambi.”
Steve knows he’s fucked,
He likes Billy Hargrove.
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spooderson · 5 years ago
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I’m back from the dead O.o and I have a new fic for y’all. You know the trope of “rogues move back in”??? Yeah, that’s basically it.
read on ao3
Ok boomer
Peter didn’t exactly know what happened during the events of the now infamous “civil war” between the avengers. He did, however, know that Tony had walked out of that fight having lost a lot – one of his most trusted friends, and teammates who he had counted on to be there with him when the world needed saving.
 Peter still remembered the black eye and all of the other cuts and bruises that Tony had gotten in the fight. He remembered him sitting in the car with him and Happy, taking him back to his aunt, hiding his expression under the sunglasses, but Peter had still seen that Mr. Stark felt betrayed, sad and lonely. Then there was the guilt. Apparently, Mr. Stark thought that he was the one responsible for everything that had went wrong – the accords, the accident with Mr. Rhodes, whatever had happened after Peter had been benched and Mr. Stark went after the rogue avengers too…
 So, to one day receive a text from Ms. Potts telling him that she needs his help with babysitting Tony while the rogue avengers move back to the compound was a little upsetting. Just like that, the people who had never really cared about Mr. Stark were let to move right back into Mr. Starks property and use his money and probably blame him for a million other things that had or could go wrong.
Of course, Peter had agreed and so here he was, skipping school and coming to the compound on a Monday morning, ready to fight a bunch of superheroes – most of whom he had idolized since he was a little kid- if it came to that. And he was sure that it would, because from what he had overheard it seemed that they never really liked, or even tried to get to know Mr. Stark. So, of course, if something was wrong, they would gang up on him.
 And the thing with the accords? Peter had read all about them when they were proposed, and later had studied them in his current events class. He knew that at first they weren’t really good – a tad too controlling and restricting, but that was what most of the countries had wanted, and to think that Captain America and his gang had thought that they were above that, that they were so important that they should have free reign over everything they do and not have to face any consequences – that was bullshit. That was when he had lost his respect for the star-spangled superhero and he didn’t think that he could ever get it back...
 Peter’s thoughts were interrupted by Happy, who was now looking at him from the driver’s seat and motioning for him to get out. Apparently they had already reached the compound.
 “Thanks, Happy!” said Peter and after closing the door after himself skipped to the entrance.
 “Hey, Friday! Where can I find Mr. Stark?” asked Peter as soon as he made it to the private part of the compound.
 “Hello, Peter, it is nice to see you here and at this unusual time too. Mr. Stark is currently in the living room. Would you like me to tell him about your arrival?”
 “No, thanks Friday!!” with that Peter turned to the elevator that would take him to Tony’s personal floor.
 “Mr. Starrrk!!! Please tell me you have breakfast, aunt May did not feed e enough for the 4 hour drive here!!!” screamed Peter as soon as the elevator doors opened to Mr. Starks personal floor.
 “Wha- Peter?? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school?” squinted Tony and stood up from the couch he was sitting on before.
 “Ms. Potts called me on Saturday and asked me to come here for the week. So here I am.”
 “She asked you to skip school for a week and you just agreed? No “but Ms. Potts, I have classes and homework”??”
 “Hey, when Ms. Potts asks you to do something you don’t question it, you just go and do it.”
 “Yeah, Petey, I guess you’re right” smiled Mr. Stark. “But really, do you know why she asked you here?”
 “Uh, yeah, I do know why she asked me here for the week… She said… she said that the, uhm, the rogue avengers were pardoned and are moving into the compound today.” Quietly answered Peter and looked down at his hands.
 “Yeah, they have been pardoned… and are now moving into the compound. They’re supposed to arrive at 2pm, so we still have some time. Want to watch a movie or something?”
 “Uhm, movie sounds great, Mr. Stark” smiled Peter.
 With that they set about preparing to watch the movie – Tony went into the kitchen to make some actual food for the kid and then brought a bunch of snacks to the TV too. Meanwhile, Peter texted Ms. Potts that everything was under control and set about collecting all the throw pillows and blankets from the other sofas to the main one.
 ----------------------------------------------------------
They had been watching Disney movies for about 5 hours now, when Friday stopped “Mulan” and announced that the rogues had just arrived downstairs and were waiting to be let in.
 “Well, looks like that’s it for our little movie marathon here. Let’s go and get this over with then…” Mr. Stark flashed him what was supposed to be a cheerful smile, but it looked way too forced to be believable.
 “I think that’s for the best” Peter tried to smile back. But the truth was, he was very nervous. And not because he was afraid of meeting the avengers or because he was scared of how to introduce himself. No, he was scared for Tony, he looked like he may be on the verge of a panic attack and the people haven’t even entered the building yet. Peter was pretty sure that if they did anything to upset Tony he was going to fight them all.
 They slowly made their way down and to the door behind which, in all their glory, were the rogue avengers – captain America, black widow, the falcon and Scarlet witch. Peter looked them over, since the glass was completely see through from the inside, but the people on the outside could not see inside. They looked like they had seen better days – captain America wore a jacket with holes in it and scarlet witches’ boots were all dirty and torn up.
 Mr. Stark looked at Peter one more time before reaching for the doorknob:
 “You ready, kiddo?”
 “Are you?” asked Peter instead of answering.
 “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” said Tony and opened the door. “Welcome back”
 “Tony…” captain America was the first one to speak out of the rogue ones “how’ve you been?” “Better than ever. Now come in, or are you all planning to just stand outside all day? Your rooms are still the same, so I suppose you won’t need my help in finding them. Now, for some rules: no one is allowed into my private part of the compound unless I gave them permission to go there, so don’t even try to sneak in there – we’ve upgraded our security systems and you will end up in medbay if you try to sneak into someplace where you’re not supposed to be. Second, if you need anything you ask Friday and if she deems it necessary, you’ll get it, otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll have to get it with your own money. Third, you are all still on parole so no leaving the compound without permission from the shield agents that will be monitoring you. For now, that’s it. Let’s go, Pete”
 “Tony, wait!” it was Natasha who shouted after the two of them, but neither of them stopped or otherwise indicated that they had even heard her.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
“So… that was something…” said Tony after finally putting down the screwdriver that he had been starring at for the last ten minutes. After letting the rogues in they had gone straight to the lab, which is where they still were, toying with various projects of theirs.
 “They deserved it and you didn’t even say anything bad. Just explained the rules, which is exactly what you were supposed to do in the first place.”
 “I guess. Still, they’re my teammates… I’m supposed to get on with them… And I haven’t even introduced you. You were probably dying to meet them” Mr. Stark finally looked at Peter, who looked right back.
 “Actually, I’ve never been a big fan of them. My idol was always you – Tony Stark. Not some super-soldier with a shield. So I’m fine, don’t really wanna meet them…”
 “You sure?”
 “Yeah…” answered Peter and then “are you crying? I swear there are tears in your eyes!”
 “I’m fine, Petey” answered Tony while wiping the tears of with the sleeve of his jacket, and then stood up and hugged Peter “I love you kid”
 “Love you too”
--------------------------------------------------------------
“Who do you think he is? His son?”
 “He looks similar enough and young enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if that was true.”
 “How did you not know about the guy’s son, Nat? Didn’t you do research on him for shield?”
 “It was a long time ago. Maybe he didn’t know about him then, maybe he’s better at hiding stuff than we thought…” thought Natasha loudly, while lounging in an armchair in the avengers’ floor’ living room. It was Thursday and they hadn’t run into either Tony or the kid – Peter? – since Monday. She and Steve had asked Friday for permission to go to Tony’s private floor a few times, but they got denied…
 They were all watching some TV show when they heard the sound of the elevator doors opening and then the sound of people walking closer and closer to where they were. When they started hearing voices drawing nearer they turned around to look at the doorway, and sure enough, Tony and the boy from before showed up and didn’t even stop to look or talk to them – they continued talking about some new movie that they had seen earlier that week? They went straight to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets, taking out boxes of cereal and various junk food.
 “Ohhhh, I’m starving Mr. Stark! I need it now, gimme- “moaned the teen while making grabby hands for the lucky charms box that the other was holding.
 “Nuh huh, you’ll get it when were back on our floor and eat it like a normal person” scolded Tony and lifted the box higher, as if that would prevent the teen from taking it.
 “Uh, Tony. We wanted to talk to you.” Rang out from the living room, where no other than Steve Rogers had spoken.
 “Why? Is something wrong? Because I told you that you’re supposed to tell Friday then.” Tony looked at the rogues with a frown on his face.
 “Nothing’s wrong. Just, a lot has happened during the time we’ve been gone. And we’d like to catch up. Is that okay?”
 “Uh, I suppose.” Tony answered and then looked at Peter “this is gonna take a while, maybe get that bag of chips over there to snack on while we have a talk… So, what do you want to know?” he asked while not looking at any of the rogues, but through the window.
 “Uh, for starters, it would be nice to know who that kid over there is. Did you have a kid and never told us about him? Because for a man who claims that we have to be honest with each other that is a dick move. What, you wanted to keep him all to yourself?”
 “Language, cap- “
 “First of all, how dare you speak with him like that?! I’m not his biologically, not that it really matters. Because you don’t have to be blood related to be family. Second, you have no right to even ask him that. You didn’t tell him anything, so why should he trust you with anything??! You can’t just expect things to go your way all the time – it’s life, that doesn’t happen here. You have to make compromises, earn people’s trust, not just demand it out of them” Peter looked furious.
 “I’m – I’m sorry, son. I didn’t want to upset you. I just want the things to go back to the way they were before... before our little disagreement about the accords.” Steve looked taken aback by Peter.
 “Well you did. And while we’re at it, don’t call it a “little disagreement”. That’s not what that was. You went against the wishes of 117 countries and then got in a fight with your teammates and some of them got seriously hurt. So shut it.” Peter was fuming.
 “Kid, I’m sure that you think you know everything about the situation, but the fact is, both sides were wrong and made mistakes. And now we’re here trying to piece everything back together, hopefully what comes out will resemble how things were before. I never meant to hurt anyone – not Rhodey, not your…uhm…dad… But they were for the accords and I couldn’t just let them force me to sign them – that would’ve been wrong… You’re just a kid, so stay out of it, ok? Let the grown ups talk it out” continued Steve.
 “You know what? Ok boomer” said Peter with an air of finality and stormed out and into the elevator.
 “How dare you speak to him like that?! You want the things how they were before? Newsflash, a lot has changed while you were gone, I changed while you were gone. So this is going to stay exactly as it is right now, got it? And if you ever, and I mean ever, speak with my son like that, you will not like the consequences.” Tony almost shouted that out, then went to the kitchen to collect all the food they had taken from the cupboards and slowly made his way out. Before the elevator doors closed, however, he shouted out “Natasha, you’re welcome to come to dinner if you want!”
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shih-coulda-had-it · 5 years ago
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quarantine q&a
@iwritesometimes tagged me for a life update! This is doubling as an apology for not uploading/updating a fic this March; things… have been taking a while to settle.
Tagging @rockcandyshrike, @vaenire, and @thisauthorisscreaming! 
Are you staying home from work/school?
Staying home from school! My college had the bright idea of giving us an extra week of spring break, and then delaying the news about evicting us from on-campus housing. Fortunately, I live in-state, so it was only a couple hours of driving, to and back.
If you’re staying home, who’s there with you?
My family! (But no pets. ; v;)
Are you a homebody?
Spiritually. I cooked for myself a lot more at college, but since moving back here, there’s just… no motivation? I’m an expert in cooking single portions. Also, cleaning just takes the life out of me. The one routine I’ve kept is washing the dishes, and I hold out on those till night-time so I can go to sleep somewhat tired.
An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled?
My school was sponsoring a trip to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival! We were gonna hang out from last Thursday to this Monday; I was really looking forward to just, y’know, wandering a small town in the early hours of morning… freezing cold air… empty children’s playground… burbling creek…
What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching?
No shows, because I don’t have the attention span for them. (Give it a bit, I might just hop back into some cartoons I’ve been meaning to binge.)
I am getting back into Campaign Podcast’s Star Wars campaign! It is taking me forever to get out of Mandalore. I may never get out of Mandalore. Send help.
Movies I’ve watched since the shelter-in-place order – Bad Boys and Bad Boys II; Persuasion (1995 version), Doom: Annihilation, Moonstruck
What music are you listening to?
Currently, any and all of @everydaylouie tunes! I can also recommend @toastyglow’s Work Music II playlist on Youtube for reliable bops. Otherwise, I keep trying Spotify’s Discover Weekly playlist… that’s a hit or miss.
What are you reading?
I’m trying to read Moby-Dick for real this time (I’ve faked reading it for class). On my ‘To-Finish’ is The Tiger’s Daughter by K. Arsenault Rivera (Fantasy Asian wlws) and The Book of Salt by Monique Truong (Vietnamese mlm who was a cook for these two eccentric, famous wlws).
What are you doing for self-care?
Animal Crossing: New Horizons. Putting on outside clothes even though I’m staying indoors 99% of the day. Playing piano. Drinking more white tea than I have in my entire life. I haven’t been feeling any motivation recently, but maybe I just need to change my work area.
I’m giving myself til the end of today to stop feeling sorry for myself. I wanna write. I wanna draw. Might kick off April with another month of uploading content, like I did with December. I have three projects now...
Finishing the hanahaki fic
Uploading the amateur-webp*rn-stars-because-we-need-money fic
Figuring out what to write for April
Fingers crossed. Stay safe, wash your hands!
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A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 4
Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?
Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL
A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.The dogs in the story play a minor but key role.
Word count: 2.8k
Part 3 <<< >>> Part 5
MASTERLIST
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                Peter had had an entire argument, from start to finish, with himself over whether or not to do what he was currently doing, and he wasn’t too sure who won in the end, but the fact remained that he was now climbing down the side of Emmeline Gerard’s building to get to her balcony, and possibly scare her to death.
                He knew it wasn’t his most brilliant idea – it wasn’t even a good idea – but he didn’t know how else to hear from her. He had met her now, as himself, and not just Spider-Man. He technically could have asked her if she was alright, but that wouldn’t have worked. Most people don’t just confide to near strangers. She had had a longer conversation with Tessa than him after all.
                And why would he ask her that? He wasn’t supposed to know anything happened to her. It would make her suspicious. It would maybe scare her off and she would never speak to him again.
                Peter didn’t want that. Peter wanted to sit next to her in class once he grew the courage, and he wanted to ask her if she’d like to have lunch some time.
                Instead, he was hanging outside her window, watching her read on her couch, legs tucked under her, Bella lying on her back next to her, foot twitching in that way it did when a dog was dreaming.
                He knocked on the window and she frowned, looking at the front door. He knocked again, seeing her look at the window this time and dropping her book in surprise, slamming a hand over her chest.
                She got up, Bella in her wake - she woke up when the young woman cursed loudly upon seeing Spider-Man outside her twenty-second-floor window.
“What in the goddamn hell are you doing here?” she hissed in a whisper as she slid open the window and stepped onto her balcony.
                Bella, who must have remembered him as being there when her mistress had been attacked, growled until Emmeline shooed her off, approaching from the dangling silhouette.
                Peter expected a warmer welcome but then again, he was technically trespassing, so…
                He let go of the web and landed on the tiled balcony, standing up slightly taller than her. She wore blue slippers with fluffy pom-poms, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
“Just checking in,” he told her.
                Emmeline stepped back. He had caught her in a moment of relaxation at home, she was wearing sweatpants and probably no bra and stiffly held her robe closed over her chest. When he said that, she looked taken aback.
“Oh.” She seemed to realize she had just verbally attacked her savior for no reason at all and embarrassment tainted her cheeks. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect-“
“It’s nothing,” Peter assured her. “I’d freak out too if a dude wearing tights hung outside my window upside down.”
“Glad we agree on that.” She nodded with a little smile. “So, uhm, I’m fine. Thank you again for what you did.”
“Are you sure?”
                Emmeline stared at her feet and wiggled her toes inside her slippers.
“I- yeah, yeah I’m good. Nothing happened in the end, you came before…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. “I’m not gonna talk to you about my problems, that’s what therapists are for and surely you’ve got more important things to do than listen to me.”
“I just finished my day.” He shrugged, deciding to sit in one of the iron chairs around the small round table that stood on the balcony. “I have nothing else to do.”
“It’s almost midnight, sleeping would be a better activity.”
“I have my morning off, I’ll sleep in to catch up,” he countered.
“I don’t, I have class in the morning.”
“You weren’t sleeping when I arrived,” he argued, watching her narrow her eyes at him.
“Don’t play smarty pants with me. Just because you saved me doesn’t mean I’ll treat you any different than other men.”
“Ouch!” Peter clutched at his heart but stood up still. If she didn’t want to talk, then she didn’t want to talk. “I’ll leave you alone if you do me a favor: talk about what happened to someone. A friend.”
“Blackmailing me, are we?” She raised a brow and clicked her tongue inside her cheek. “Fine. But I decide when I’m ready to talk about it. No time limits.”
“No time limits.” Peter shot his web upwards to climb up again. “By the way, Bella doesn’t count.”
                Then he disappeared, right when he saw her open her mouth to argue.
 *
                 Ned gaped at his friend when on Monday, in their Introduction to Mechanics and Biomechanics lecture, Emmeline smiled and waved at Peter. Both of them looked behind them to see who she was smiling at but saw no one. It really was for Peter!
“What was that? Since when do you know her?” Ned questioned, watching Peter smile back like a total goof and wave slowly as if he couldn’t believe she noticed him. “Didn’t she yell at you’re the last time you looked her way?”
“Ugh, I guess you could say we turned the page,” Peter said with an enigmatic smile and a shrug. “We had a chance encourage this Friday.”
                He ended up explaining everything to Ned since he kept insisting on getting all the juicy details because “wow Peter, this is major! You’re finally on speaking terms with the girl you’ve been pining after since Freshman year”.
“I haven’t been-“ he started to deny then saw the look Ned was giving him. “Fine, I may have noticed her, but it’s nothing crazy, I’m not forgetting myself whenever we’re in the same room. You’re always making me sound so lame, dude.”
“That’s because you are. Like, no offense, I say this with the utmost respect, but you’re a hopeless romantic and all your brain cells drop dead whenever she looks at you.”
“They most certainly do not!” he objected, sounding so much like Tony that he had to take a second and reflect on his life.
“Sure,” Ned said, clearly not believing a word of it. Then he proceeded to mimic the way Peter had waved at Emmeline, dumb smile and all.
“Okay, yeah, maybe I get a little awkward around her, but who doesn’t? Even teachers get all fidgety when she speaks in class.”
                It didn’t happen often because she rarely raised her hand, but he really had seen grown adults get nervous around her. Of course, back then, he didn’t know she was the mayor’s daughter. Neither did Ned. He didn’t share a lot of classes with Ned, they had chosen different specialties.
“That’s because she’s the mayor’s daughter, they all think she can get them fired if they say something wrong,” Ned told Peter. “And the biochem teacher doesn’t do that. She gives zero craps about your girlfriend’s pedigree.”
“She’s not my-“ Peter groaned and threw his head back, closing his fists in frustration. “Forget it. You’re right, I’m the lamest guy in this whole city, and we’ll probably never move past speaking terms, so can we drop the subject now?”
                Ned hadn’t meant to upset Peter, but the truth in what he had said stung all the same. She was the mayor’s daughter, she was out-of-this-world pretty, and she was smart and intimidating. She was great with dogs too apparently, and while it could have played in his favor to have something so close to their hearts in common, it was ruined by the fact that his dog running away was literally the reason why they had shared a conversation the other day. At best she thought him clumsy, but it was more likely that she thought he shouldn’t even own a dog if he couldn’t do something as simple as go on a walk without losing her.
                He didn’t have a single chance with this girl, he was deluding himself.
                Just when his thoughts were getting darker, the lecture started.
 *
                 Three days after that eye-opening moment, when Peter had accepted that his little crush was a dead-end, she had waltzed into his life again. Peter was sitting at a table in a nearly empty library this early Thursday morning when someone dropped a pile of books next to him, even though the long table was entirely void of people.
“Hey, can you-“ he began before setting his eyes on the person standing behind the chair to his right.
“Can I what?” She smirked, pulling back the chair and sitting down. “Can I fuck off and find an empty table?” She laughed.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Peter objected, already mentally cursing himself. “I swear.”
“Oh, I know,” she assured him. “You’d have said it way more politely.”
                Everything Ned had said and every self-deprecating thought that had bloomed in Peter’s mind since Monday resurfaced and he didn’t know what to say. Say something Peter, just say whatever comes to mind, but don’t just sit there with your jaw hanging, he admonished himself.
“Don’t sweat it,” she added when Peter finally opened his mouth. “I’m not going to bother you, I just thought it’d be silly to sit at the end of the table when you’re right here. Is it okay if I stay and study with you for a bit?”
                His heartbeat slowed down a bit and he felt slightly better. That was the problem with putting people you didn’t know on a pedestal: you end up having wrong ideas about them. Emmeline undoubtedly had a strong personality and wasn’t afraid to say things as they were. But she wasn’t haughty or trying to intimidate anyone.
“Sure, I was beginning to feel lonely anyway,” Peter told her.
“I never realized you came here this early too. I like to walk my dog when there’s few people outside, so I come here after, since I’m awake anyway,” she explained, flipping the pages of her manual to find the right chapter.
“I get nervous where there are too many people around me, so…” Peter shrugged and only then realized what he had just said. Holy f***, he was socially inept. Quick Peter, change the subject! “M-maybe I’ll meet Bella one of these days.”
                Emmeline looked up and frowned.
“How do you know her name?”
                Shit, shit, shit, shit. Today wasn’t his day.
“You- uh, you mentioned it last time, when you found Tessa.” A big fat lie! Hopefully she wouldn’t question it.
                Her expression shifted to one of acceptance and she nodded with a little hum.
“Are you studying for the exam next week in Differential Equations?” he asked, deeming it a safer conversation topic.
                It was an advanced class with only a handful of students, and she was in it too.
“Uhm, no. I’ve got that covered, I think. I’m here to finish the assignment in Molecular Genetics.”
                Peter didn’t have that class, he took Microbiology.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to help me she chuckled.” She must have seen the panic on his face when he realized he wasn’t in that class. “But if you need me to help with D.E. I can.”
                He didn’t miss the mischievous air about her when she turned down his help but offered hers. Peter had to smirk to himself, feeling like she had somehow won this conversation if such a thing was even possible.
“Noted,” he said, accepting defeat – this time.
 *
                 Without thinking much about it, they had both developed new habits since that day Peter had saved her from her assailant.
                Ned was wrong, Peter had to believe it. He had to believe that she wasn’t so far out of his league that she wouldn’t even look his way, because she did. Emmeline Gerard looked at him, talked to him, laughed with him. And he could feel himself get deeper in deeper every time he saw her stunning dimpled smile.
                The other side of the coin was his visits as Spider-Man. He couldn’t help himself, he wanted to see a side of her that she didn’t show to Peter Parker, or anyone else for that matter. Somehow, she didn’t treat him any different than she did when he wasn’t wearing a mask, but she acted a little different.
                He could tell she told him things she wouldn’t share with anyone but Bella – who had grown accustomed to Spider-Man’s random visits and now accepted pats and ear scratches from him. Perhaps she thought her secrets were safe with him because she trusted him after he saved her from sexual assault, or perhaps it was because he didn’t have any motive to spill them, Peter didn’t know. But she did confide in him nonetheless.
                He knew that her father bought her this flat when she was got her bachelor’s degree. What a gift for a barely out of high school teen! She had taken it as a not-so-subtle way of being kicked out of the bigger and much fancier penthouse he shared with her mother.
                She had never felt much like home there anyway, so she came here and adopted a dog. She was an Aries; she didn’t like coffee; she couldn’t stand horror movies; she was allergic to cats; she read poetry in her spare time; she made an impeccable impression of Gollum and had a broad knowledge of obscure Lord of the Rings lore.
                Peter Parker didn’t know most of those things, but Spider-Man did. And as days and weeks went by, he was starting to feel he might be stagnating in his relationship with her. She didn’t open up and bare her soul to him the way she did to Spider-Man when it was near midnight and they were both sat on her balcony (she never let him in) and talked like old friends.
                Peter felt as though he was in competition with himself. Peter feared she might like his other self better than his actual self.
“So,” Peter started, sitting Indian style on the tiles, rubbing Bella’s belly now that she liked him well enough to roll on her back and show him her most vulnerable part. “Did you talk to a friend, like we agreed you’d do?” he inquired.
                He hadn’t forgotten her promise, even though it has been two months now.
“I haven’t forgotten but I-“ She paused and rubbed her arms. It was late November; it was starting to get too cold to have these chats outside. “I just don’t know who to talk to. I don’t have this kind of friendship with anyone.”
                It hurt to hear that. Peter tried not to show it.
“No one at all?” he pressed her on, hoping she would say his name, his real name.
“There’s…” Emmeline sighed, looking skyward and deploring the lack of stars here. Of course, she knew the stars were there, rationally. But after not seeing any for a while, she began to wonder if they were here at all. “No, there’s no one. No one I would share this kind of personal stuff with anyway.”
                He didn’t seem happy with her answer, she noticed.
“Isn’t it enough that I tell you? You only made me promise that because you didn’t want me to bottle up my feelings after all.”
“I see the way you act with me. Like I only exist to you when I’m here and not outside of this balcony,” he told her, and she couldn’t have missed the sadness in his voice if she had tried. “You talk to me the same way you would write in a journal you intend to burn once full.”
“That’s not tr-“
“It is, even if you haven’t realized yet,” Peter insisted.
Maybe it was wrong to come here twice a week to check in on her, to hear about all the things she did not tell him during the day. All the things that she didn’t tell him, period.
                It felt like cheating. When he talked to her as Spider-Man, she told him things that she didn’t want to tell Peter Parker, and it was wrong of him to listen to these secrets.
“I won’t come back after tonight,” he announced, having decided to leave her alone. He had to do this right if he really liked the girl – and he did, God he liked her.
                She didn’t even attempt to argue, further confirming his sentiment of not even being real to her. 
“Oh.” She looked disappointed but that was it. “Alright. I guess you couldn’t have come here forever.”
                No, he couldn’t have. He only wished he had realized it sooner.
                Spider-Man was a mask, and Peter had allowed himself to forget it because it allowed him to be close to the girl he liked. It was easier than being Peter Parker, awkward nerd who had set his eyes on a girl who was out of reach.
“You’re a nice girl, Emmeline,” he told her, refusing to use her nickname. “You might think nobody cares about a rich girl’s problems, but I’m sure you have friends who would listen. Just have a little faith.”
                Have a little faith. It was a solid piece of advice that Peter was committed to follow too.
.
.
.
Reblog to save a writer
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ncityislove · 6 years ago
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The Jury is Out
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➳Pairing: Renjun x Reader x Jeno (ft a few other Dreamies)
➳Genre: Angsty fluff but mostly angst lol basically enemies to lovers
➳Word Count: 5K
****STORY HAS BEEN RE-EDITED
You were used to working with the guy you disposed most in the world on a day to day basis but one day all that changes when you have to work together after school for two weeks. Was it crazy to want to be friends with your enemy? Was it possible to be something...more?
Part 1/5
Second Chapter
Requested? no bc y’all stay sleeping on my mans but anyways
The air is cold and frigid, causing you to zip up your bright yellow fleece jacket. You regret not bringing your coat, which you had left in your locker because you honestly didn't think you'd need to wear one indoors but you didn't account for the chill of the breeze outside to seep through the cracks of the classroom windows.
You clamp your teeth shut in an attempt to prevent them from chattering as you jot down the notes from the PowerPoint on the board. Normally, you'd be way too invested in the lesson to even notice the temperature but you were doing a dissection tomorrow so you had to learn all about the body parts of pigs. Pigs. As if the anatomy of pigs wasn't straight forward enough.
Finally, the lesson neared its end and your anatomy teacher, Mrs. Brookes, clicks off the PowerPoint and you cram your notes into your overflowing folder.
"I've got an announcement, everyone," calls Mrs. Brookes. 
The class halts their movements to hear her speak. 
"The end of the semester is here and that means finals and all that."
The classroom groans in unison.  
"Yes, yes I know! Boo, finals. But! With finals comes the new semester and that means college applications will be due! So, if anyone wants to get a head start on teacher recommendations—"
Your eyes snap across the room to peer at a “certain someone” only to find he was already glaring at you. Huang Renjun was the top of your class—always has been and probably always will be. Unfortunately, that made you second at everything which was unbelievably insufferable. You were smart, always did your work and gave 100% to everything you did but so did he. And he was always just a little bit better—just a little bit smarter than you and it made your blood boil.
You knew your destiny was to be a judge since you were three years old. You dreamt of wearing the flowy black gown and holding that beautiful wooden gabble as the whole courtroom looked to you, knowing the power you held. You wanted to be the best judge there ever was--a fair judge who brought justice to everyone and you had the perfect plan to do it. You would attend Oxford, get your degree in law, be a lawyer for a few years, five or six maximum and go from there. The only problem with that was that Oxford chose only one student from your school every year for their full-ride scholarship and it just so happened that the student at the top of your class wanted to go there too.
To put the cherry on top, Renjun also hated your guts. He made your life a living hell and often times he’d go out of his way to do so. You can’t remember when the spiteful behavior began but it had been so long it was comfortable. Sometime in middle school he’d had his sight set on you and you haven’t had a peaceful day since.
You shake away your disgruntled thoughts, bringing your attention back to Mrs. Brookes.
"I'd be glad to help out!" Mrs. Brookes smiles. "It would be nice to start now so I won't have to write one-hundred-thirty-two letters at once."
The classroom fills with whispers before Mrs. Brookes quiets them once more. "Also, as you all know, we have a lab tomorrow so go ahead and pick your partners, quickly!"
You sigh, pressing your lips together as your eyes flicker back to Renjun who nodded his head in confirmation of what you already knew. Although the two of you couldn't stand each other, you always worked together to ensure you got the highest grade. This way, you didn't have to deal with lazy partners or someone who just didn't have the intellect to keep up with you.
By lunchtime, you’re practically starving, having skipped breakfast because you overslept. Again.
You purchase a salad, stuffing a fork full of lettuce in your mouth as you set up a small foldable table in the center of the cafeteria. You were in a numerous amount of clubs, one of them being the Red Cross Club, which was currently donating blood to hospital, and you were the first one to volunteer to man the sign-up table.
You managed to get a few sign-ups before people stopped passing by and you quickly get bored. You suck through the straw of your milk carton, unlocking your phone to see you had four unopened messages.
Sadie [11:36]: Heyyyyy girrrrrrl Sadie [11:36]: guess who's coming home? It's me lmao Sadie [11:37]: did you hear about the fire? Some dumb ass freshman burned down the ENTIRE chemistry building so they're letting us out on winter break early for remodeling Sadie [11:38]: can't wait to see you! We've got so much to catch up on about Jodie ;)
You roll your eyes shoving your phone back into your pocket. There was a point in time when you and your sister were practically joint at the hip, always together no matter what. Secret handshakes, your own made-up languages and all that, but it wasn't like that anymore. You weren't exactly sure when the rift began but you were very much aware of it now. The only person who seemed to not notice was Sadie. The last thing you wanted to do was be stuck in the same house with her for who knows how long, let alone talk about her idiot of a boyfriend, Jodie.
 A deep bellow and a loud guffaw drags you out of your thoughts as your eyes follow the source of the sound. Lee Jeno was doubled over in laughter, as were the rest of his friends, slamming his fist down on the table as everyone around him erupted into applause. You hate people who clapped when they laughed. You also hate people who obnoxiously drew attention to themselves in public but you couldn't stop your heart from swooning while watching him do those very things. There wasn't a shortage of good looking boys at your school but none of them ever had the effect that Jeno did on you. It's not that you have a crush on him—not even close. He was just so damn dreamy. You’ve had your fair share of interactions with Jeno, him being Renjun’s best friend and a member of two of the clubs you were in. He was in student council just like you but instead of being the useless treasurer, he was the Vice President (and of course Renjun was class president) and the best soccer goalie the school's had in...well, ever. It was the combination of his good looks, you think, and intelligence that was so attractive to you.
You had certain rules that you set for yourself to ensure your high school career went perfectly. Although it was kind of corny, it worked for you. You had a plan and you were going to succeed.
Rule number one: no parties. 
Rule number two: no drinking. 
And most importantly, rule number three: no dating. 
Having a boyfriend would be a huge distraction and you couldn't risk your future on some relationship that wouldn't last past graduation but sometimes you couldn't help wishing you hadn't made the rule for the sake of Jeno's existence.
You made a sour face at the group of boys, shivering when you feel a pair of eyes burning a hole in your head. You glance over two seats from Jeno to find Renjun inspecting you with an unreadable expression. You stare back for a moment before looking away, a look of displeasure evident on your face. You were quite thoroughly creeped out. Geez, were you in some kind of movie or something? You were competing against each other but you weren't arch enemies or anything like that.
When the final bell rang at the end of the day, everyone rushed off to get on the big yellow buses and go home. You rarely hardly ever rode the bus, having too many extra-curricular activities after school and just outright preferring to walk in the mornings. Mondays and Wednesdays you had mock-trial club, STEM and chess club were both on Tuesdays, and book club and Red Cross were every other Thursday before school. On top of all that, you were captain of the varsity volleyball team. A large part of you only wanted to join because you thought the uniforms were cute but you also needed a sport to put on your college application.
Today is Wednesday and you were on your way to Mr. Koffee's class for mock trial. Mr. Koffee wasn't the most interesting person in the world but you always looked forward to his club meetings the most out of all your other extra-curriculars. It was mostly because it was the closest thing to being a real lawyer you'll have for a long while.
By the time you make it to the classroom, all the seats were taken except for the one right next to Jeno so you quickly cease it, receiving cold looks from your female peers. You shrug it off, not really paying them any attention. If there was another seat you would've taken it but seeing as there were more people there today than usual  you had no choice. Renjun sat behind you typing away at his phone, ignoring your presence as usual.
Mr. Koffee strides into the room, closing the door behind him. The students shift their attention to him as he stands in front of his desk, arms folded.
"Well isn't this a surprise. Everyone decided to show up today." 
The class laughs but you could tell by his expression it wasn't meant to be a joke.
"Quiet down, everyone," he begins. "We've got some major trials next year against some big schools and I have no doubt we'll win them all but I'd still like us to be prepared. I think our performance level would greatly benefit if you were able to do a trial without me involved so I'm stepping down from my role as Chief Justice."
Your ears perk up at this. You often alternate between being the defending attorney and a juror but neither role satisfied you in the way you knew being the judge would. You struggle to hold in your giddiness as the teacher continues.
"I'll be choosing the best-fit person to play Chief Justice sometime between now and next week if anyone's interested."
"Mr. Koffee," you call out, raising your hand. " I don't think it will be too hard to decide considering I'm the obvious choice."
Jeno snickers at your words and Renjun scoffs.
"Suddenly, I think I want to be the judge." Renjun muses, his finger tapping his lips lightly. 
You withhold the urge to hit him on the back of his stupid, round head.
 "Mr. Koffee, I'd like to be judge, too!"
Your neck almost snaps at how quickly you turn your head to gawk at him. "What do you think you're doing?"
Renjun's lips twist into a lopsided smirk.  "What do you mean? I’m taking my role of chief justice, obviously."
You glower at him. "You are such a--"
"__!" Mr. Koffee scolds.
You mumble an apology but your eyes never leave Renjun's. He must really get a kick out of making your life a living hell, didn't he? He wanted to be a lawyer when he graduates so why on Earth was he volunteering, knowing damn well how badly you wanted this? He already had everything he wanted and he was probably going to get the scholarship at Oxford anyways—what more did he want? Why did he still take things away from you when you never had a chance in the first place?
"Like I said," Mr. Koffee continues. "I'll come to a decision at the end of next week. Moving on," he begins pacing across the front. "The school carnival is in two weeks and I registered the club on the list to have a booth. Are there any volunteer—"
"Me!" You and Renjun shout at the same time. You both cast glances at each other before looking back at the teacher to hear his decision. Volunteering to run the booth wasn't the best idea. You already had enough on your plate as is but you knew you would have a better chance of being chosen if you did this and so did Renjun which was why he couldn't let you do that.
"Okay, Perfect. You two will run the booth for the carnival," he announces, clasping his hands together.
You gape at him, horrified. Now, what have you gotten yourself into? You glimpse at Renjun who's expression was not too far off from yours. Jeno cracks up in his chair, his shoulders shaking in laughter, clearly enjoying this.
"Oh this is gonna be good," he giggles.
"I needed two people but I thought no one would volunteer," Mr. Koffee explains, his lips almost curving into a smile for once. "Now let's move on to our next case, shall we?"
--
The drive home is dull. You pick at your chipping nail polish as your mom blabs on and on about Sadie. Her words go through one ear and out of the other, her voice drowning into the hum of the engine and the wind flowing in through the window. Your thoughts are filled with Renjun and murdering him in cold blood. This was something you could never forgive him for.
Your mom parks the car in the garage, and you grab your bookbag as you wait for her to unlock the door. The weather only seemed to get colder and colder and it only worsened your mood. With the all your school work and club activities, you were sure the added on stress from Sadie coming home months early would be  your end. You could see it on the news now, Young Teen Found Dead With Premature Wrinkles And a Notebook Full of Plans for Murder. 
The house was warm and welcoming compared to the harsh temperatures outside. You remove your shoes and jacket and scurry up the stairs before your mom could talk your ear off some more about your sister.
You plop down on your bed, crawling under your honey yellow duvet, finding an escape from the world for a moment. Every now and then, when life just felt like it was a little too much, you’d hide under your covers like a child. You’ve been doing this a lot lately, taking refuge in the safety of your covers when Renjun had done something to ruin your day. Just three days ago, you were in this very same spot after Renjun tripped you in front of everybody during second period. It took a lot to embarrass you and because everyone saw him trip you, that didn't bother you much. It was the bruise on your elbow you got trying to break your fall that pissed you off. It was the fact that he got away with tripping you in front of so many eyes and yet, he didn’t get in trouble. He never did. He was the perfect model student. The class president could never do any wrong. 
You weren't sure how much time had passed while you were under there but you figure you ought to start on your math homework so you could finish your English paper early.
After a few hours, your parents call you down for dinner. Your dad had just got home, setting the table in his work clothes. Your parents invested themselves in a conversation of the weather which inevitably turned into a bubbly discussion about Sadie. Expecting this, you eat as quickly as possible trying to flee back to your room. Surprisingly, you're able to leave with ease, your parents too excited about Sadie's arrival to notice you leaving the table early. 
--
You're shocked awake by a heavy object thrown on top of you. Your eyes pop open, your heart thudding in your chest as you notice the familiar mop of hair splayed across your face. The high-pitched squeal only confirmed who the culprit was.
"Sadie?" you whine, groggily.
She lifts her head up, but not enough to remove her hair off of your face.
"Missed me?"
"Not really," you try to push her off which only resulted in her squeezing you tighter.
"There's that sense of humor I missed so much."
You roll your eyes. I wasn't joking, you wanted to say but you bite your tongue. 
"Why'd you wake me up? I already have to get up early enough for school."
Sadie finally sits up, her lips pursed. "Oh? But doesn't school start in like twenty minutes?"
"WHAT?!?" you glance at your alarm clock and she was right. You must've forgotten to set your alarm last night. You sigh throwing your legs over the edge of the mattress.
"If you need a ride I can drive you," Sadie offers.
You stare straight ahead at the yellow walls in front of you. Suddenly, you regret choosing such a bright and happy color for your room theme when oftentimes you felt anything but happy. It was your favorite color at the time and it still is today but you were starting to get sick of it. It felt as if your room was mocking you. Even your bedroom was happier than you.
"No thanks," you say, getting up and rushing to get dressed.
Sadie sighs but thankfully leaves you alone. When you go to the kitchen to grab your breakfast, you're surprised to see a feaast large enough to feed a vilage instead of your usual bagel and banana.
"What's all this? And where's mom?" you ask, running out of the kitchen.
Your father looks at you briefly before his eyes go back to the thick novel he was holding. "She's out running errands. We have to celebrate Sadie coming home, dear."
Sadie smiles, patting the chair next to her.
You frown. "Yeah, well, I'm already late so I'm gonna head out."
"Young lady!” your father barks, stopping you dead in your tracks. “Just where do you think you're going? Your mom wanted us all to eat together and that's what we're going to do. You'll have enough time to eat if Sadie drives you--now how does that sound Sadie?"
"That's okay with me," she chirps.
"What's the use of eating 'all together' if mom's not even here?" you exasperate, air quoting with your fingers.
"I will not allow you to waste the good food your mother worked so hard to make for the whole family, now sit down and enjoy your breakfast with your sister," he says, returning back to his book.
You sigh in resignation, taking the seat next to Sadie, who claps her hands excitedly.
You do your best to say as little as possible to Sadie, only giving her a 'yes' or 'no' when she asked a question. When you arrive at school, you hopped out of the car without saying goodbye, which you would regret all too soon because she decides to wish you good luck in the loudest voice she could muster. You pull your hood up when everyone stares at you, having recognized your sister immediately. People start to crowd around her car greeting her like she was a celebrity or something and you grit your teeth, stalking into the building. 
This was exactly why you didn't want her to drive you to school. Not only were you second best at school but at home as well. Everyone loves Sadie. She’s pretty, smart and fun and, well, she was the complete opposite of you. She never turned down the opportunity to have a good time and somehow still managed to pass her classes with ease. Even having graduated high school two years ago, she was still as popular as ever, her existence leaving a permanent imprint on the school. Even the freshman knew your sister's name.
You re-adjust your headband as you enter Mrs. Brookes' class, feeling somewhat relieved you weren't late. Your table was occupied by a large animal that looked like roadkill and on top of that, the awful chemical smell burned your nostrils. You gag as you drop your items to the ground. Renjun's book bag slams into the chair next to you causing you to jump out of your skin.
His lips slant into a smirk as he examines your appearance. "Why're your clothes all wrinkly?"
You looked down at your uniform, noticing its creased state for the first time this morning. You could just add ironing along to the list of things you forgot to do last night.
You send him a dirty look as you smooth your skirt down with your hands. You were still mad at him for yesterday and would rather cut your left leg off than to work with him today but you already told Mrs. Brookes you were partners and you knew she wouldn't let you change partners last minute.
The bell rings and Mrs. Brookes goes over the lab rules, passing out your assignment. You and Renjun put your gloves on as instructed, deciding to split the work in half, you doing the front of the paper and him the back. You made an incision at the stomach, charting the intestines on your worksheet. You look up to check on Renjun's progress to see him poking at the swine with a shaky hand, his face a ghastly pale. You almost laugh out loud. Maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all. Renjun had a weakness?
You snatch the scalpel from him, slitting the pig's neck open and he flinches. 
"Is that so hard?" you ask, handing him the blade back. 
Renjun swallows as he takes the tweezers and pauses to re-read the directions for an unnecessary amount of time. You let out an impatient sigh and Renjun finally puts the paper down and inserts the tweezers into the pig, searching for an artery with his body as far away from the animal as he could manage. When he let out a girlish yelp, you decide you’ve had enough, slamming down your scalpel.
"Give me that," you snap. 
Renjun hands you the tweezers with no hesitation, stepping a safe few steps away from the table. 
"Look, I'll do all the physical work and you just write the answers down okay?"
"O-okay," he nods, his face was now a dangerous shade of green. For a millisecond, you feel bad for him but then you remember how much of a complete jerk he is.
Renjun is mostly silent as you do all the hard work and he copies the answers onto the worksheets. You don’t tease anymore for the sake of keeping him from hurling in front of you. 
If you thought Anatomy class was weird then lunch was double weird. When you arrive at the sign-up table, there’s someone sitting in the seat next to yours--which was supposed to be empty last time you checked--and of course, it wasn't just anybody--no, that would be too easy. Haven Geller, Renjun's ex-girlfriend, of all people was sitting in the chair next to yours, dill-dallying with her hair as if she doesn’t see you standing in front of her.
You simply shake your head and sit down. "I thought I was the only one doing sign-ups today."
Haven feigns just noticing your presence. "Oh! Hey, y/n, didn't see you there."
You scowl but say nothing. This wasn't your first meeting with Haven. She was on the volleyball team with you and as you were team captain, you've had your fair share of hiccups with Haven. She wasn't a bad person per se, although you didn't know her very well, you could assume she could be honorable when needed. It was her attitude that you really had a problem with. She never followed instructions and she never went to class. It was this kind of behavior that almost got her kicked off the team several times and she always acted like she didn't care. It was mind baffling that Haven and Renjun we're together so long. You wouldn't have imagined they'd get together at all, them being polar opposites and all.
"I talked to the teacher about it and," she pauses to pop a bubble with her chewing gum, "she said I could help out. I need more volunteer hours to put on my application, you know?"
You nod your head in understanding, chomping on your celery as Renjun and Jeno approach you, lunch trays in hand. Haven straitens up in her chair, smiling at the boys.
"Hey, __. You wanna sit with us today?" Renjun asks.
Haven is just as surprised as you, if not more at the question directed towards you.
"We need to start planning out how we're gonna do the booth for the fair." he continues.
You look skeptical. Didn't he know that only people who are friends sit together at lunch? And you most certainly were not friends with Renjun.
"Yeah, I think I'll pass," you decline, taking another bite of your celery.
Jeno smiles at you and you looked away, your face heating up.
"Look, I'm sorry alright? I know I shouldn't have volunteered to be the judge and I know I shouldn't have volunteered to do the booth and I apologize. Please? Come sit at our table."
Your face is stoic as you mull over his words. Renjun never apologized for anything because he was never sorry. You were seeing a lot of firsts for Renjun today. There was a silence between all of you before Haven took the opportunity to greet Renjun.
"Hey, Junie! It's nice to see you," she chirps.
Renjun nods at her before turning back to look at you.
You looked back in forth between them, weirded out by the odd exchange. Did they get back together? You didn't keep tabs on Renjun's love life, it was more so his academics that you were more interested in but the last time you saw them together was before school ended last semester.
Jeno steps forward, drawing your attention. "Hey, so, I'm throwing a victory party at my place this Friday by the way. You should come."
Your eyes widen. "Me?"
"Her?" Renjun asks, equally exasperated.
Jeno wrapped an arm around Renjun's shoulder, jostling him a little. "What do 'ya say?"
No.
"I'll think about it," you say and you're shocked by your own response. You should've been upfront about it but you found it hard to say no to Jeno. It was against your rules after all--and besides you wouldn’t even know how to behave at a party. You had nothing to wear either. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't go.
“Isn’t a little premature to schedule a party before you’ve even won the game?” you inquire.
“Not if I know we’re gonna win it’s not.”
Renjun blinks, shaking his head. "Erm, anyway--are you gonna sit with us or not?"
"You can go," Haven says, smiling at you. "I'll hold down the fort."
You still feel unsure but Renjun was grabbing your book bag and food before you could protest her offer. "W-well okay, thanks, Haven."
"No problem!" she exclaims, grinning, although it doesn't reach her eyes.
Sitting at Renjun's table has to be one of the strangest experiences you’ve ever had. Everyone was so loud and rowdy and on top of that, they were all staring at you. You feel so out of place and Jeno, sensing your discomfort, introduces you to everyone. The ones sitting directly across you though, Haechan and Jaemin, seem to stick out the most to you.
You and Renjun exchange a few ideas for the booth, eventually agreeing on a courtroom theme.
"You guys are like two Einsteins," Jeno jokes.
"Yeah, except __ is smarter," Haechan chuckles.
"And way prettier," Jeno adds.
Your cheeks tinge a baby pink as you deny the boys' words.
"Can you guys shut up? We're a little busy here," Renjun grumbles as he scribbles messily in his notebook.
"But it's true. __’s gorgeous."
Renjun just rolls his eyes bringing the conversation back to the booth. After a few minutes of Jeno throwing endless compliments your way, Renjun looked like he was quite literally about to pop.
"Jeno--for Christ's sake! Can you not flirt with my lab partner?? We're working here!"
"Lab partner? You’re not even doing science, man,” he snickers.  “And isn't the school fair not for another two weeks?" Jeno counters with an innocent smile.
You could've sworn you saw Renjun's eye twitch as Haechan and Jaemin burst into laughter.
"Bro, how many times do we have to tell you to relax?" Jaemin snorts, reaching over the table to touch his shoulder.
"Yeah," Jeno says, propping an elbow on the table. "It's not like you're being graded on this anyways."
Renjun groans, throwing his head in his hands.
"Maybe that's true but I'd prefer to not half-ass this, considering what's at stake," you chime in, feeling the need to defend him.
Renjun peeks in between his fingers at your words.
"And what's at stake?" he asks.
"Things you wouldn't understand, Jeno."
Jaemin cackles and Haechan covers his mouth, ‘ooh’ing at your response.
"Oh yeah?" Jeno raises an eyebrow. "Try me."
"Maybe another time," you say, grabbing your bag. "I'll see you after school, Renjun."
The bell rings just as you get up and you push past the doors, not looking back.
-
After the last bell rings, you squeeze through the sea of people down to the track field. Students shove passed you, brushing your shoulder as they run to get to their buses in time. Your eyes water as the harsh wind blows against you and you stuff your freezing hands into the pockets of your padded coat. Despite the cold weather, the track team was getting ready for practice and you thank the heavens you played an indoor sport.
There’s two other people preparing their booths and you were glad you and Renjun weren't the only ones starting early. You pick out the least disgusting table and pull it up on its legs. Dust flies everywhere and you swat at the air vengefully. You look at the time on your watch. Renjun is late.
You wipe off the table with an old dirty rag and sit on it, refusing to do any more work on your own. When Renjun finally shows up, it’s fifteen minutes later and he’s carrying a black metal box and a bucket full of spray paint.
"Look who decided to show up," you place a hand on your hip.
Renjun gives you a pointed look. "I had to go get all the supplies."
"I didn't know it took so long to get a few cans of paint," you mutter, dusting off the back of your jeans.
It's not like you had all day to do this. You had homework to do! Papers to write!
"__, can you maybe not be so uptight for once? It's not like I took my time to get here, I walked as fast as I could."
"Uptight?" You repeat. "I'm not the one who was freaking out at lunch today over a school fair booth, if I remember correctly. And your friends are trash by the way."
Renjun slams the metal box on the table. "Don't talk about my friends. You don't know them and you don't know me, so mind your own damn business," he snarls.
For a moment all you see is red. Renjun is such an ass. This is the last straw. You can’t take his insults any more. After all he’s put you through, especially after yesterday’s antics, he had the nerve to talk to you like that?
"I don't know you?” you hiss.  “We've had the same classes together since junior high, idiot. I know that you carry around two packs of number two pencils for no logical reason and I know that your bookbag looks like it was a filing cabinet in its past life. Hell, I wish I didn't know you, that's for sure, because then I wouldn't be out here in the freezing cold building a stupid booth with the likes of you!"
You hadn’t intended to say those words out loud but you couldn't deny how good it felt to say it. Maybe you were a bit harsh but who cares? He's said way worse to you countless times.
Renjun stands there staring at you for a beat, his fists clenched into a tight ball before he storms off, snatching his book bag and dragging it on the ground behind him.
"Where do you think you're going?" you call after him. "What about the booth?!"
You watch with your mouth hanging open as Renjun kept walking until his figure becomes too small to see. Who knew he could be so sensitive? You assumed he would just brush off your words as he always did but it seems you struck a chord. 
You chew your bottom lip as you angrily stare at the table. No matter what Renjun could’ve said to you, you wouldn't leave him to do all the work on his own.
You curse under your breath as you grab a can of spray paint, shaking it with force. You stayed after school for a reason and you were going to do what you came to do, with or without Renjun.
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dandelliongirl · 5 years ago
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What a start
to 2020
I have been working from home since the afternoon of the 16th of March and it feels like forever. I am so glad this week is Easter weekend and a 4 day vacation.
My family has been healthy and life for me hasn't changed that much other than working from home. My friend who lives across the street got a Nintendo Switch and Animal Crossing New Horizons for herself but she doesn't have Nintendo Online membership yet so we have been spending a lot of time together. Besides her and my family I have no other contacts. My friend works at the central hospital though, so it's obviously risky and probably stupid... She came to our cottage a couple of weeks ago and we had the best time going on a forest walk to collect sticks for macrame tapestries and finding photoshoot locations and spending the evening going to sauna, playing ACNH and visiting each others islands to see a meteor shower. We are planning a photoshoot for easter weekend but I think I’m going to move it to a later date. I really need time with my family and by myself after almost 3 weeks of being shut in.
I am so glad we have our cottage and I feel awful for people in one room apartments right now. Spending all my working hours and freetime within a few steps definitely affects my mental state even though I am definitely a homebody. Working from home has been going really well though since I have my own PC with two monitors and my work laptop with VPN separately. I am definitely super glad to have a stable job and the possibility to work from home through this whole covid-19 business. I really struggle coming up with local entrepreneurs to support when there are so many but I definitely feel like I have to because I am lucky enough to have a stable income.
So buying ACNH was an ordeal. My local electronics store didn't list the special edition Switch console bundle until launch day (March 20th) and the place I preordered from didn't get the shipment until 5pm. We drove about 2 hours and started off before 8 am to get the console and game from a different store only to see that it was stocked locally right after opening. Anyway I got the game and it has been an emotional journey. I hate that I got oranges and an orange airport. I'm also not very happy with my town name or my character name but despite spending months making lists and thinking about it I didn't really have better options. I also didn't want to place down the museum before I could access the other side of the river but turns out I needed to place it in order to proceed and lost one day of progress because of it. I was so upset. The map is pretty good and I eventually grew to like my island but then I got Pietro as my first camper and was forced to move him in.. I also ate 10 turnips this Sunday and was absolutely fuming because of it. The first week of listening to the same background music was also an infuriating design choice as well as the recent barrage of bunny day eggs everywhere. Anyway overall I like the game and have spent awesome times with friends playing hide and seek, doing treasure hunts and designing and decorating the place. I'm taking it easy and going my own pace even if it means avoiding spoilers (even from my boyfriend who constantly spoils something because he’s too excited to keep his mouth shut!) like the plague.
Mum and dad had the rest of their house renovated during March since the bedrooms were renovated a few years ago. Me and mum spent so much time choosing the materials and planning the new layout of the kitchen and living room but it's so beautiful now! So open and light and airy and clean!
This whole covid isolation thing has really put all of my personal goals on hold. I feel like even though externally I haven't been affected too much the whole mental side of it has taken a toll. With no hobbies me and my guy are both constantly at home and even though I love it and we have a lot of fun together I also hadn't realised how much I relied on my couple of hours of weekly alone time to work on my crafts and baking and organising the house. I feel like the first 2 weeks were spent on survival mode and then ACNH took up all remaining free time and brain capacity as a form of escapism so I'm not getting anything done and that's eating me up. Also the lack of physical activity is taking a mental toll on both me and my boyfriend since we don't have a whole lot of room and I definitely don't feel like working out when he's just haning out on the couch in front of me.. I have also had a lot of restless nights and nightmares which tells me that I'm not as unaffected as I think I am. I have definitely been avoiding the news and trying to get into some new normal routines as fast as possible. I drafted this message while in a Teams meeting where our coordinators can do their own year and resource planning and ask me tech questions when they need help. Now I’m finishing and posting this before I start the next one. I don’t want to accidentally screenshare Tumblr..
My last post was from January 19th and since then we've had a fun birthday party for my high school friend on the 22nd, a brunch at and a visit to the future wedding venue for another friend on the 23rd, an adorable photoshoot with a big teddy bear on the 29th of January, sushi with my family on the 6th of March and this whole covid situation. My colleague with whom I had a lot of issues moved away and no longer works with us. Work without her has been great and I have been thriving. I love feeling important and needed, and it gives me hope for my future since my current contract ends at the end of this year. There are 5 of us in our team looking to get a permanent contract for one of the 2 open positions so we'll have to see what happens, but I'm definitely applying anyway.
Mum is on vacation this week and went to take food to granny and grandpa's door on Monday. Today (Wednesday) I plan on leaving work early and going to the cottage, and to work remotely from there on Thursday if I have no meetings that require a more stable Internet connection. Since the kitchen renovation and a relatively warm and snowless winter we got to start our cottage season early this year. My guy is also spending Easter with his family at their cottage. It's his 27th birthday next week! We are really bad at socially distancing ourselves from our families but apart from my friend those are the only connections we have.. My spring allergies started and it's definitely hard to know if I have flu symptoms or allergies but so far I've just felt sniffly and it helps after I take my allergy meds so I think I'm safe. If either of us or any of our loved ones got flu symptoms we would definitely stay home and we are well prepared for that.
In a few months once this whole thing calms down this will feel like such a weird alternative timeline or fever dream and it will seem very unreal that a disease drove us into global and local isolation of this scale where even schools were closed. Our capital is quarantined and the police are making sure people who cross the border have a valid reason to do so.. People are placing teddy bears and other stuffed animals to their windows for children to spot on their walks outside.. Wild.
Meanwhile I'll go back to playing ACNH, dreaming of summer and finding my new norms. I hope everyone stays safe and healthy! I’m trying to get the most out of my time working from home because it means I can do embroidery and other crafts during meetings.:)
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this-lioness · 5 years ago
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Another Meandering Update
Like I do.
The new Animal Crossing came out Friday and I’ve been playing it in seemingly constant cycles of running out the Switch battery, then letting it recharge while I do other things.  Well, okay, maybe I’m not quite that bad but... close.
Today I finally decided to wear Actual Clothes instead of just pajama sets or comfy sweats.  Even pulled my hair up and put some makeup.  Don’t ask me who I’m trying to impress.
My Mother has shut the fuck up about Maggie for the time being, thank God, so hopefully she’s resigned herself to the fact that there’s just nowhere to put her right now. Like, logically I hope she understands that. I can’t just ditch these fosters at a shelter, I can’t open the door and let them run free.  They need a place.
Fortunately they have an appointment Monday for their spay and bloodwork.  Once that’s done they’re essentially ready to be adopted out, so it’s not a question of just dumping them off on another rescuer with work still to be done.  Assuming their bloodwork comes back clean, that also means we can slowly try to introduce them to our crew and, assuming that goes well, they can join the pride temporarily and we can -- if we need to -- move Maggie back into the cat room.
Don’t ask me what the fuck my life is going to be like with five fucking cats (plus one) running around, because I don’t want to think about it.
I’m still... concerned... about their prospects.  We spend as much time with them as we reasonably can, but they’re not particularly cuddly or affectionate.  They do a drive-by for a few pets, but Baby (surprisingly) is the only one who’s shown any interest in sitting on you and being petted.  Blue, who was initially the more outgoing, is aloof and largely disinterested in prolonged human interaction.
I’m hoping that after their spay they’ll be more mellow and inclined towards affection (as well as putting on some weight).  Adopting out a (fully indoor) cat that doesn’t want much to do with people is not going to be easy.  Unfortunately, I’m not 100% sure how much of their current affection level is hormonal, meaning Blue could become even more aloof after she’s spayed.
I regret taking them in, but here we are, and this is what we do. :/
The broccoli seeds I planted started to sprout the very next day, and I’ve had to take the lid off the container as they continue to stretch taller.  They don’t much like the grow light, preferring to grow toward the sun, but I’ve got it on anyway.  It’s still far too cold to plant anything outside, unfortunately.  Once we’ve had a few 60-degree-or-better days I’ll hose out the icing buckets I bought last month and hopefully get my hands on some potting soil to start planting things properly.
I’ve been saving all my little yogurt cups from lunch to start more seeds, maybe a bit later this week.  We’ve got some nice ripe bananas for more banana bread, as well.  I think I’ll throw some mini chocolate chips in this time.
I put in another grocery order, mostly for my Mom but a handful of things for us, as well.  We’re honestly good on most things, it’s just “topping up” things that have dwindled, and if we can’t get our hands on them it’s not a huge deal.
There’s a Walmart down the street and two grocery stores nearby, but neither of them were offering pickup delivery anytime soon.  Walmart has eliminated the ability to schedule pickup or delivery more than 24 hours out (you basically have to keep checking and checking their website until something opens up) and the Giant was absolutely booked up for both until next Wednesday the 1st at something like 8 at night.  I jumped on that and started loading our cart, but it’s all contingent upon what’s available at the time, and they’re not making any substitutions.
Like I said, I’m more concerned about my Mom than us.  We ordered her a chest freezer to help her keep food longer, but unfortunately Best Buy closed before they could get the order in stock and they pushed it off to the end of April.  We just cancelled it.  Wish we’d had the idea sooner, you can’t seem to order them from anywhere now for anything less than a fortune.
I ordered a pullman pan off Wayfair to arrive Thursday, so I’ll be able to make sandwich bread at least.
But other than that, life goes on in its way.  Apart from puttering around our own yard on Sunday we haven’t been out of the house since Friday.  We get up, shower and dress, have breakfast and coffee, then sit down to work.  We break for lunch, go back to work until dinner time.
I try to distract myself at night, but it’s when I seem to be the most anxious and tense.  During the day I’m actually okay? Like... I don’t pace around the house wringing my hands or anything, I just go about my day doing what I can.  I guess when my mind is allowed to wander that it starts to tangle itself in knots.  I’m like a pair of earbuds -- I’m fine when you use me, but the minute I’m not in use I get completely tangled up.
It isn’t the routine that bothers me, really, it isn’t the inability to go out and do things (we’re probably going to take a walk around the neighborhood after lunch), it’s the fact that none of the Big Picture things are in our control, and are instead in the hands of people who have no value for human life.  No sense of reality or decency.
The joke about Krypton being allowed to explode because nobody in charge wanted to listen to the scientists is so sickeningly true, and it’s unnerving to see it play out in real life.
Anyway.  We are doing our thing, we are doing our part as much as we can, and just waiting patiently for... normalcy, I suppose.
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