#i just. like medical stuff??? it’s calming in a way. knowing that i’m getting tested and hopefully getting answers to my health concerns

[seventh-district]

CW: talkin’ about my scars and the experience of having blood drawn

oh, the tension between me and the poor urgent care staff member that’s been assigned the arduous task of trying to find one of my tiny escape artist veins so they can draw my blood whilst doing their absolute best to be polite and not say anything about the fucked up and concerning amount of scars on my arms, wrists, and hands

[scarlethexelove]

Your newest fic was amazing!! It hit me right in the feels. Is there a possibility of doing a part 2 where R is healing and struggling with having Wand and Natasha back in her life? A happy ending would be nice.

What About Now?

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader, Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 3590

Warnings: A bit of angst(I guess), Fluff, Medical stuff that may not be right, mention of not wanting to survive

Part 1 I Don't Even Know You Anymore

A/n: Ok so finally got this done. It has some unspecified time jumps. I wanted to kind of leave it a surprise on who Reader will choose so you will just have to read to find out. Hopefully it's good.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

It’s been a week since you woke up.Your mind reeling at the news that you will never be an Avenger again. Your injuries were extensive. Your head injury with your new found stutter which you are really hating. Doctors believe that those effects can be reversed with speech therapy. Along with that it was discovered that a bullet had grazed your spinal cord. While they did test your reflexes they came back weak. Your lower half is feeling slightly numb and tingling. With physical therapy they are hopeful for improvements but with the prognosis things will be difficult. There was also nerve damage that will cause ongoing pain. It comes and goes and some days are worse than others. But you’re alive and that is all that matters. 

Your mind goes through all the questions you have in your head. Will Tony make you leave? How do I tell everyone? How do I stop the pity? Was I better off not surviving? All these questions and you have no answers. No one knows of the news you got today leaving you alone with your thoughts but with this news you prefer it. 

As your mind plays through all the questions you don’t even hear the door open. But you're drawn to it when it shuts. You look down at your hands not meeting the eyes on you believe it is Wanda and Natasha who have visited frequently. “P-please leave. I c-can’t with this to-today.” You fiddle with the ends of your sleeves. “Well I did travel across six galaxies to see my best friend but I guess I’ll have to come back later.” Your eyes snap up and you're met with a soft smile from your best friend. “Ca-carol?” The tears start to well up in your eyes before a broken sob breaks through. Carol is quick to move towards you. Climbing onto the edge of the bed and pulling you into her chest. 

You sob for what seems like hours until your sobs turn to soft sniffles and hiccups. But Carol never leaves hugging you tightly against her as she rubs your back and kisses your head softly. Cooing in your ear to help calm you down. “Y/n/n do you want to tell me what is going on? I heard you were hurt so I came straight here.” You nod, pulling away to look at her before letting it all out. Telling her what happened from when you got back from your mission all the way until earlier today. She intently listens to you and lets you speak. There is no pity in her eyes, only love and compassion, no malice even when talking about what Wanda and Natasha did to you. Only concern for you and your wellbeing. That was why she was your best friend. She knew you better than anyone. 

Once you are done she finally speaks. “I wish I was here. I wish I could have been here for you, to take care of you but I’m here now.” She kisses your forehead again lightly. Her lips linger just a little longer than they should but you don’t mind. Her warmth comforts you. “W-what about m-mi-mission?” She shakes her head. “I’m here for you. Y/n/n you come first.” Your heart melts. “Nick granted me time off.” She smiles brightly at you. Your joy and excitement to have your bestfriend back. 

From all the events of the day and crying your eyes out you start to get tired. You're nuzzling into Carol's chest as you let out a yawn. “Get some rest sweetheart. You need it. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She kisses your head again and pulls you closer to her. You give her a gentle nod nuzzling closer to her before you close your eyes. Drifting off into the most peaceful sleep you have had in almost a year. 

In the months since waking up from your coma and Carol’s return you have grown even closer to Carol. Tonight just like any other night or so you think. You and Carol are sitting in your bed watching a movie for your weekly movie night. Your head is laying on her shoulder, her arm wrapped around you tightly keeping you close. You let out a giggle at something in the movie causing Carol to smile at you. What she does next you don’t expect. She places a finger under your chin gently directing you to look at her. She leans in and gently kisses your lips. You're too shocked to kiss back at first. But once the shock wears off you start kissing her back. It feels strange but good. The kiss deepens her hands cupping your face as you grip at her waist. You didn’t even realize how long you two had been kissing until you're forced to pull back panting and catch your breath. Her forehead pressed against yours as your breaths mingle. 

You don’t want to admit that your feelings for Carol have grown with the more time you have spent with her but you're not sure if they are romantic or not. “Carol” You whisper between you two. You lean your head back and look into her eyes. “I-I don’t know. I’m not ready. I don’t know how I feel. I’m sorry.” You look down disappointed in yourself but you know that you need to understand yourself before you can decide anything. Natasha and Wanda are still trying to prove and make up for everything they have done. You still have love for them but you also have love for Carol even if you aren’t sure what that love entails. 

Carol gives you a soft smile. “It’s ok Y/n/n. You don’t have to explain. I just wanted to kiss you so bad and I couldn’t help myself.” You blush at her words. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” She adds looking at you, her smile turning sheepish. “No it’s ok. I-I liked it.” You tell her your cheeks are still dusted with a light pink. This was not how you expect your night to go but it was a nice surprise. “Do you want to keep watching?” Carol asks. “Hmm oh y-yeah, of course.” You say turning back to the movie. Your head back on her shoulder and her arm wrapped around you tightly. 

So far the only people who know about your prognosis are Carol, Tony, Bucky, and Steve. You have asked  them to not tell anyone else until you are ready. Tony has let you stay in the tower citing that you have given up enough of your life and you deserve to keep your home. You are grateful for his kindness. No matter what people say you know Tony has a big heart and cares more than he lets on. 

As for Natasha and Wanda they have been helping you as much as they can even if you don’t always want it. They are trying to prove to you that they are truly sorry for what they have done. They even started to go to therapy in hopes of proving it to you. They have even invited you to multiple sessions. At first you didn’t want to go but you wanted to see if they had actually changed. So you tagged along after turning them down a few times. But now that you have gone you have joined them multiple times. Seeing that they are trying. 

Currently Carol is away for a small mission. Fury forced her to go but luckily this one is on Earth so she shouldn’t be gone for too long. You're in your bathroom when you feel a sharp pain in your back which causes your legs to give out. You fall to the ground with a loud thud and a cry of pain. You try to get up but a shooting pain runs through your hip causing a small whimper to fall from your lips. When you can’t get up you love to sit against the counter. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” You call out. “Yes Miss.Y/l/n?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s robotic voice is heard above. “I-I need help.” You say back. Shortly after F.R.I.D.A.Y responds “I have informed your emergency contact. Miss.Romanoff and Miss.Maximoff are on their way.” “W-wait, N-” You’re cut off when the door slams open, Natasha and Wanda with a frantic look on their faces when they see you on the floor. You had forgotten to change your emergency contact from the two after everything, but it’s too late now the women are here. 

“Oh Milaya, what happened?” Wanda kneels down next to you. She hesitantly reaches out for you and when you don’t pull away she takes your hand in hers. “I-I fell and I can’t get back up.” You mumble looking down. You expect to see pity from the woman so you can’t bring yourself to look at them. Natasha makes you look at her with a soft smile. She holds out her hands for you to grab and to help you up. You place your hands in hers, she starts to try to lift you up but you cry out in pain. There is a terrified look on her face in fear that she may hurt you somehow. “I’m sorry Y/n.” You shake your head. “Not you. I think it was the f-fall.” You tell the woman. “We’ll take you to the med bay. We need to make sure you are ok.” Natasha scoops you gently in her arms and takes you towards the med bay. Wanda close behind the both of you.

Once the three of you are there Natasha puts on the exam table in front of Bruce. He was luckily already in the med bay when you got there. “What can I do for you?” Bruce takes off his glasses looking at you three. “I fell and I think I hurt my hip.” You tell him and he nods. It is a short time before he is done with his scans. Natasha and Wanda never leave your side throughout the process. Bruce moves to look at your chart and scans. You watch him as he reads through. You can see the slight change in his demeanor and the quick glance he gives you before looking back down quickly. You know what he just saw. 

There is a gasp that draws your attention. You look over seeing Wanda with her hand over her mouth shocked and a sad look in her eyes. “W-Wanda.” Your voice quivers slightly. “You weren’t supposed to find out. Not this way.” Natasha looks confused as she looks between you and Wanda. Bruce shrinks back trying to blend in with the wall. “I-I’m sorry. His thoughts were so loud I didn’t mean to hear.” Wanda pleads, a look of remorse on her face. “Will someone tell me what is going on?” Natasha asks finally and you sigh knowing that you can’t hide it from them anymore. “W-when I got hurt my injuries were more extensive than what was originally thought.” You gulp down the tears that threaten to fall. “I won’t be an Avenger again.” A tear rolls down your cheek as you look down. 

The room falls silent with the news until Bruce breaks the silence. “Y/n I have your results. It looks like you have a hairline hip fracture. It should heal on its own with rest. You will have to stop your physical therapy for a few weeks but then be able to continue.” With Bruce's words you nod, willing the tears from the previously intense moment to go away. Bruce gives you some pain medication to help before taking his leave, leaving the three of you alone in the room. 

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife until you speak. You explain everything to the woman. Tears rolling down your cheeks as they comfort you. It’s an emotional time as you tell them. Their comfort in this moment means the world to you. It is something that you have missed dearly. They vow to help you in whatever way they can. They help and comfort making you feel loved. Making you question all of your feelings for them and for Carol. 

It’s been a few weeks and you're healing. You can move around again albeit slow and with the help of a cane. You're making your way to the common room when you stop at the entryway. Leaning on the wall watching all of your favorite people in the room. No one has noticed you yet as you watch. Your eyes landing on Carol as she laughs and talks with Thor. A smile on your face watching the two interact. Your gaze then makes its way to Natasha and Wanda who are cuddled up on the couch. They are playfully arguing with Clint. The sight widening your smile. You see that Carol’s eyes land on you with a giant grin on her face. At the same time Wanda and Natasha spot you giving you a warm and inviting smile. And in that moment you know that you need to make a decision. To either take a chance with Carol or forgive Wanda and Natasha. To build a lasting relationship with either the pair or your best friend. It will be one of the hardest decisions of your life and one you never thought you would have to make. 

The door swings open as the keys jingle in the door. The sound of feet padding on the ground, wails of glee from the kids. “Mommy! Mama!” Three children yell in unison. Their attention is drawn to the open door. Their bodies smashing into the woman causing them both to laugh before crouching down to their heights. Holding them closely to their bodies. A blonde falling back into the couch with a huff watching on. Green eyes landing on the woman and giving a nod. The blonde nodded back. 

The kids pull away and look at the woman. “Where’s Momma?” Natasha asks, her green eyes looking at her son. The boy shuffles a bit with a sad look. “It’s a bad day. Momma called Aunt Yelena to help.” Natasha kisses his head, she knows it is hard for the kids to see you in pain just as much as it hurts her and Wanda. She looks to Wanda who gives her a sad smile. “Have you been good for Aunt Yelena Billy?” She smiles down at him trying to brighten his mood. “The niblets have been just fine.” Yelena interjects from the couch. Natasha raises her brow at the word. “What? I heard it on the tiktok.” Yelena says with a wide grin proud of herself. Natasha rolls her eyes and puts her attention back on the kids. Billy, Tommy, and Alexandra nod along with Yelena. Causing both women at the door to laugh. Wanda kisses Tommy and Alexandra’s head. “Thank you for being good for your Aunt. How about we…” Wanda ponders for a moment. “Pizza for dinner.” The kids erupt in cheers which brings a smile to their faces. “How about you three go play while me and Mama go check on Momma?” The three nod and scurry away. The two women stand up and start making their way towards the bedroom. “Thank you Lena. Are you okay still watching them?” Wanda asks before leaving. Yelena waves her off as the kids pounce on her and she laughs. “I’ll make you some mac and cheese later.” Wanda yells from down the hall. They hear a loud yes from the woman causing them to laugh as they make their way into the bedroom.

It’s dark as they enter the room. They can see your form on the bed cuddled under the blanket. They see your shoulders gently rising and falling as you breathe. You must be asleep as you don’t hear them enter. The woman takes their shoes off before joining you in bed. Wanda slides in behind you, her arms wrapping around you gently, not wanting to cause you any added pain. Natasha shuffles in front of you. Moving your hair from your face. She smiles as you start to blink your eyes open. “Natty? Wands?” You question as your eyes begin to focus on the woman in front of you. Wanda gently kisses your shoulder as Natasha kisses your forehead causing you to let out a small giggle. “ You’re home early.” You say sleepily moving your head to nuzzle into Natasha’s neck. She smiles, running her fingers through your hair. “Mhmm we couldn’t wait to get back to you and the kids so we worked quickly.” Natasha kisses your head again. 

“Billy told us you’re having a bad day.” Wanda kisses your shoulder again gently. You let out a small hum. You hate to admit it sometimes but you know your family just wants to help. “How about we get you in a nice hot bath. Yelena is still watching the kids. We can then have a nap with you.” Natasha smiles at you and you nod. “Wands also promised the kids Pizza for dinner and mac and cheese for Yelena.” She chuckles as Wanda pushes her shoulder which causes you to giggle at them. 

Natasha and Wanda slide out of the bed causing you to whine at the loss of their bodies.  “Shhh detka.” Wanda says softly, helping you up and picking you up into her arms. You wrap your legs around her waist and bury your head in her neck. You let out a small whimper at the movement. “I’m sorry milaya devushka.” She holds you close and you nuzzle into her neck causing her to smile. “N-not your fault.” You mumble in her neck, placing light kisses on her neck. “I know. I just don’t like seeing you in pain.” She kisses your head as she takes you into the bathroom. Natasha is already in there and has started the bath. Wanda sets you down gently before helping remove your clothes. Natasha finishes getting the bath ready with an added bath bomb. Both women take turns stipping down to join you, one always being there to give you support. 

Wanda steps in the bath and sits down. Natasha then helps you in. Your back pressing against Wanda’s front before Natasha sinks into the water in front of you. You give Natasha grabby hands and she moves closer to you. The three of you settled into the warm bath. Nothing sexual, just love and understanding between the three of you. After a bit of soaking the woman help wash you and your hair before focusing on themselves. 

Once you're all done they help you out and dry you off. Natasha goes and gets clothes for all three of you. She puts you in a pair of her sweatpants and one of Wanda’s hoodies. You inhale the scent of Wanda on the hoodie letting out a content sigh. Natasha then lifts you gently into her arms and takes you to the bed. Helping you before getting in herself. You snuggle up to her and nuzzle into her chest. Wanda sliding in behind you. The moment was so soft and sweet. The women are still kicking themselves for what they did to you all those years ago. Thankful that your kind soul forgave them and gave them another chance to earn your love and affection. Now you're all a big happy family with three beautiful kids that mean the world to you all. 

The silence is peaceful as you relax feeling a wave of exhaustion. Natasha breaks the silence, her voice soft and low. “Detka we have some news for you. A surprise of sorts.” You lift your head from her chest and look up at her. A glint of excitement in your eyes as you wait for the woman to continue. She smiles gently before continuing to speak. “That was our last mission.” You sit up slightly ignoring the twinge in your back. “What?” You question. You hope this means what you think it means. “Dorogaya we are retiring. That was our last mission. We want to be here with you and the kids. We are done with that fight, all we want is your love.” You turn to Wanda as she speaks, happy tears filling your eyes. You can’t help as the tears fall and you hug them both tightly. “I love you both so much.” You let the tears fall. Your family is complete and you can all have the life you have always dreamed of. It isn’t what you expected it to be but with these women you can do anything. Over the years they have loved you at your best and at your worst. Stuck by you through every bad day. Your love grows for them every single day that you are together and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Each of them kissing your head. “We love you too.” They say together. “We want to spend the rest of our lives with you. Making up for our wrongs and earning your love.” Natasha gently kisses your lips. “Y-you already have.” You kiss Natasha before turning to Wanda and kissing her. The day started out terrible but the two women you chose to hold your heart one last time have proven that you did in fact make the right choice. 

A/n: I know that some if not most will not be happy with my decision to have WandaNat as end game. I went threw a few different idea's and always came back to them. So even if it is hated it is what I wanted in the end. Thanks for reading though.

[broadwaybalogna]

Times I’ve inserted myself onto Zuko or Katara and helped myself.

I JUST made a post about self inserting on Katara and also Zuko and how it’s okay. This post will go over times I’ve done it and how I was able to help myself through rough times.

1. An except from “They Say Beauty is Pain”, a fic I wrote surrounding body image and dysmorphia.

”I don’t know. I guess I just…” she struggled to find the words to explain her feelings, “for lack of a better term, wish I liked my body more?”

[…]

”I think there are parts of ourselves that we all fail to understand and accept,” he finally began after a long pause. “I mean, look at me. I have a huge scar on my face but you sit next to me and tell me how beautiful it makes me. […] The same goes for you. […] Whatever you may dislike about yourself, I know I love it more than you could imagine. […] We all have things we’re insecure about, yeah. But I think the opinions that matter most are those closest to us and can best shape us to love ourselves the most. If that even makes sense.”

This entire one-shot was me writing about my experience with my body. As a firm hurt/comfort lover, I had to find a way for Katara (or me) to be comforted. This can go for my readers as well, people who may associate themselves with Katara and also suffer from body image issues can (I hope) read this and feel comforted about themselves.

2. An except from “Sleep When You Can, My Dear (I’ll Be Here When You Wake)” a fic I wrote about taking meds and the effects it can have on a person.

”For a long time, I didn’t know who I was without my trauma. It shaped my entire personality to who I am today. Every piece of me became what it was because of my own suffering. I didn’t know how different I would be if I… healed. The idea of a version of myself that wasn’t who I was in that moment was scary… But I realized, over time, that even though those moments will forever shape who I am as a person, they don’t have to define me. I am not some girl who lost her mother two years ago and goes to therapy for it. I’m more than that. And you’re more than the boy with father issues who needs medication. We improve ourselves each day by living and accepting that we can be better. And I look forward to knowing that the next day, I’ll get new experiences that will shape who I become.”

Guys, I can only write stuff like this by putting myself into the characters shoes. I actually technically inserted myself into BOTH Katara and Zuko to write this. How would I react to someone saying this? How would I comfort my partner (if I had one)?

3. An except from “The Psychology of a Test” which is about finding a balance between school and life.

“Zuko,” Katara finally said, lowering her voice and finally becoming more calm, “I don’t really know much about your relationship with your dad- or school. But it was so nice seeing you actually happy and talking these past few days. It really put things into perspective for me. I realize that I’ve been studying so much all the time, that I never thought about how it affected you. I’m sorry.”

“What? No, don’t be sorry. My relationship with school is.. complicated at best, but in no way is any of it your fault,” he sat up to face Katara, “but I have realized how much more I like being free. I just need to find a balance.”

“Could I- could I help you find it?” Katara asked after a short moment has passed.

“I’d love that.”

Many published authors will say that what they write is based on real experiences they have gone through. Why is it okay for published authors to do this and not fanfiction authors?

Don’t let ANYONE tell you that you can’t write characters to connect with you.

You CAN.

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (10/23/2024) Episode: Take A Breath

When they arrived at the medical clinic Luigi and his family were whisked quickly to the private room they’d requested.

“Thanks so much for protecting our privacy” Luigi told the medical assistant when she arrived to begin the exam.

“Not a problem Mr. Lawbourne” she replied, “We’re always happy to help.” She pulled up Skye’s chart on the computer before turning to her patient “I see you’ve been having some trouble breathing lately. Can you tell me a little bit more about how that feels when you notice it?”

“Every time I teleport my chest feels funny, and I start coughing a lot.” Skye frowned “It happened one time when I was playing tag with my friends at school too, but I don’t like to do that anymore.” Noemi and Luigi exchanged a glance then but didn’t comment.

“I’m sorry to hear that” the assistant smiled kindly. “Thank you for the fantastic explanation! Today we’ll run some tests, I promise they won’t hurt, and hopefully help you feel better. Does that sound good?” Skye didn’t look up but nodded slightly and let her get started.

At the end of his examination Skye was diagnosed with Asthma.

The doctor did his best to explain the disease in a way the young sim could understand: “With asthma, teleporting or exercising can cause your lungs to start making thick sticky stuff called mucus” he said. “That’s why you start having trouble breathing. The good news is we have medicine to help you feel better fast when it happens.”

“Mom, Dad” he went on “I’m going to give you some resources to review so you can learn how to help Skye manage his new diagnoses.” “I know a bit about it” Luigi told him “my great great grandpa Don has dealt with it for centuries.”

"It isn’t uncommon for asthma to run in families actually” their provided smiled “though in your case it seems like it skipped a few generations!”

Luigi and Noemi talked with Dr Anderson for awhile, learning more about next steps for follow-up and things they could do, such as creating an Asthma Action Plan, to help others know how to help their boy in case of an attack. Afterward he asked: “Now Skye, do you have any questions before I go?”

Skye hadn’t really understood everything they’d been discussing, but he did have one important thing to ask “You said the medicine will make me feel better. Does that mean after I take it, I won’t have asthma anymore?”

The adults in the room frowned. Luigi reached out to place a comforting hand on his son's shoulder as the doctor answered, “Unfortunately there is no cure for asthma, so you’ll always have it, but as long as you keep your inhaler in your inventory it should make you feel better quickly next time you have trouble breathing.” Skye’s face crumpled at his answer. He buried his head in his dad’s chest; big fat tears falling freely at the news.

The doctor left then to see his next patient, telling them as he went “take all the time you need before you go; we have plenty of other exam rooms.”

Skye calmed down slowly as Noemi moved to sit across from him “I know you’re worried, but we’ll do everything we can to help you adjust.”

“Now that we know what’s wrong” Luigi continued “we’ll be able to help. When I was your age, I learned I had Eczema. Once we understood what was causing my issue, my dads got me that special lotion you see me use and it made a big difference, just like your new inhaler will do for you.”

“We love you so much, and we promise you won’t have to go through this alone.” Noemi finished, finally earning a smile from her glum little boy.

“Well, that was awful” Luigi lamented as he and Noemi waited for Skye to come out of the restroom “I know what he’s going through, and it sucks.”

Noemi nodded “I was really hoping it was just some short-term infection but given his symptoms I’m not really surprised.”

The pair fell silent when Skye rounded the corner. As they left the medical clinic, heading towards the vision center a short walk away, Luigi took Noemi’s hand in his. Squeezing it tight he silently hoped against hope that Skye wouldn’t get anymore bad news at his next appointment.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[merrhea39]

Trans masc Dominik chapter 2-2

Dominik and Rey got to medical where they were watching the rest of the show covered in ice packs, until they saw Damian and Finn on the screen again. “The world just saw first hand that for all of Dominik Mysterio’s ‘potential’, he’s just not made of the right stuff. Today Dom, congratulations you failed the test.” Finn spoke first then Damian spoke. “Dom we saw right through you man, we knew the only reason you ‘joined’ the judgment day was to save your dad, well instead of saving him you should’ve grabbed the chair and cracked his skull. Just like we cracked Edge’s skull when he got in our way. Next week Madison Square Garden 20th year of your father being here in the WWE, we finish what we started. The Mysterio’s will fall and the judgment day will rise.” They both laugh as the camera switches to the upcoming match but both Dominik and Rey were entirely distracted about what they had just said. “Get up, we're doing an interview.” Rey said to Dominik who agreed wholeheartedly. Next thing they knew they had a camera shoved in their face for the interview. “Let me start dad.” Dominik said with confidence. “Ok mij… jo” Rey seemed to stumble on his words but Dominik didn’t notice as the red light indicating that were live turned on. “Finn, Damian, did you actually think I'd ever join the judgment day? honestly, I may have failed your so called test but at the end of the day I lived up to the Mysterio name and the judgment day don’t know a thing about the Mysterio’s.” Once Dom finishes Rey speaks. “You guys think you’re the first ones to threaten the Mysterio’s? Hell you ain’t even the first ones to try and tear up this family, and you sure as hell won’t be the first on trying to do so. Check this out, next week at Madison Square Garden I’m gonna celebrate 20 years in WWE, Dom and I are gonna cap off that celebration by excitedly showing you, the judgment day, what it means to be a mysterio. Orale arriba mi raza!” Unknowingly to the 2 someone was listening from within earshot but out of sight, Rhea was stalking them like prey waiting for them to separate once more. Rey went back to medical for more ice and the camera crew left leaving Dom alone in a locker room. Dominik quickly went to his phone for a quick distraction as Rhea quietly entered the room then shut the doors. “I see you didn’t listen to any of us.” The familiar Australian voice makes Dom jump a bit. “Wh-what are you doing here?!” Dom said, almost frightened. “You notice how your dad almost called you mija earlier?” Rhea said, questioning Dom. “What?! What are you talking about?.” Dom was practically yelling at her. “I guess you didn’t… next time you talk with him pay attention to him saying it…” She said in a matter of fact tone. “SHUT FUCK UP GET OUT OF-!” Dominik yelled before Rhea gently caressed his cheek. “I’m not trying to rile you up… You should calm down and listen to us okay? Or… I’ll have to hurt you too.” Rhea said to Dominik who tried to speak back but Rhea put a finger to his lips and left without another word.

[from-memphis-with-love]

Gambling on Your Love - Ch. 3

Summary: Colonel Parker's sudden entrance and news of on-set rumors worry Elvis, who tries to ignore them. Francesca, though falling for Elvis, fears getting too close. Their love, tested by fame and personal wishes, reaches a peak during a romantic night where they share their true feelings. Facing a potential turning point, one has to ask: Can their love withstand the challenges of their public lives, or will the spotlight's glare be too much?

Read chapter one and chapter two to get caught up. Word count: 9,400 Warnings: Intense romantic and sexual situations; medical emergencies; substance abuse; emotional vulnerability.

Colonel Parker stormed into the dressing room. He had a penchant for crew-blindness. If someone wasn’t a star, he simply didn’t acknowledge them. As far as he was concerned, the extras weren’t even there. 

So, he didn’t have any qualms about laying everything out in front of the nice makeup girls, who did their very best to pretend they definitely didn’t hear a word Elvis and his agent were saying.

“Did you see what she said? In her little press blurb?” He slapped a gray, rolled up newspaper on the desk, rattling the brushes. 

“What who said?” Elvis half-heartedly passed a glance to the unfurling paper. It was just a local paper, who cared what some reporter had to dress up and slant and make malice? That’s how most of them were. Twisting words to suit their stories, to sell their articles. But when the Colonel flipped a few sheets in, to a long article filled with quotes, Elvis couldn’t help but check again, even if his eyes couldn’t discern the lettering.

It read, “An anonymous tipster has it that Elvis can be a challenge to work with at times due to his overwhelming presence on set, and that some of the female members are finding friction alongside their co-rockstar, and not in a good way.”

“Well, what’s that supposed to mean?” Elvis laughed. He didn’t care. He wasn’t concerned. He wasn’t wondering which female members. What friction?

“It goes on. I mean...” the Colonel’s voice was high strung. Insinuating. “There’s some nice stuff in here. Most of the crew seems happy, but it just looks like whoever spoke to the reporter might not be. Hm.” Like he was pondering on it, in a thoughtful way. “Best to take care of that. You don’t want directors thinking you’re hard to work with or even too wild on set. They don’t like that kind of party animal stuff on the clock no more, my boy. What you do at home is your business. But while you’re here, you might as well try and take it seriously. It’s what you wanted, isn't it?” He kept his tone light, almost consoling.

Elvis’s fists balled on the studded leather arms of the make-up chair. Application of his pancake makeup had petered off as the girls nervously fidgeted, pausing awkwardly before continuing with the finishing touches. 

“Gonna pat your face all over one more time, Mr. Presley.”

He shut his eyes in anticipation and exhaled, getting locked into place.

“Don’t worry. It’s not a big deal, but I’ll make sure everything’s running smoothly. I’m agreeable. You know that.” He diffused, diverted, decompressed. Always the one that had to tactfully take up for himself while simultaneously maintaining the peace (which usually meant kowtowing to whatever it was his heavy-handed agent wanted).

The Colonel put his stony hands on Elvis’s shoulders, encouragingly in his bumbling way. “I just don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself.”

Elvis nodded, but in agreement with the decision to remain steadfast in his calm. If he blew up now, it would just make things worse. And he wondered. That reporter had been hawking Frannie, waiting for the moment to strike. Had she still been mad at him at the time? Had she let something unseemly slip? That just… didn’t seem like her. She was so humble, so reserved in her professionalism. Glamour and grace, she was the essence of class. She never said a bad word about anybody.

He just needed to talk to her, smooth things over like he said. That’s all.

“Good luck out there kid, better get crackin’.” When the Colonel left, Elvis’s mind was truly left to ramble. The paper had been left open. That wasn’t all she said. 

He feathered the pages between his fingers, bringing it up to read.

"Some say more than sparks are flying high on the set. Are tensions mounting as well? When social lives dance with professionalism, can everything truly be conflict free?"

He rolled his eyes. The drama. Like conflicts in a movie set were the most headline worthy bits of news to grace the media. When did journalism become more sensationalism and less reality? Pushing the papers away wasn't enough; he plunked them into the trash, dusting his hands.

*

There was a spring in her step, a lightness that lifted her clean off the ground. Francesca was floating—cautiously, carefully—on the surf of infatuation. It was a giddiness that followed her throughout the day. It drew patterns that she otherwise wouldn't have noticed. Young couples seemed more affectionate as she glanced at them on the street, leaning on one another, hands clasped tight. The sun felt brighter on her face. But she wouldn't use that accursed, powerful four-letter word, even if her mind whispered it like an omen.

You're falling, falling fast.

Elvis surprised her the other night, classic pebble-against-window style. He had the Mafia in tow, whooping, spilling out of the sides of the pink Cadillac. She’d opened her window to hear them loudly, chittering and then shushing one another.

"Heeeey, Francieee," Billy waved, hiccuping and covering his mouth.

A bunch of unchaperoned young kids, giggling drunk with Elvis the sober pilot.

"To what do I owe this star-crossed meeting?" She laughed and called down, the night wind catching her dark curls. Stories away and she could see the twinkle in his eye from up above. Elvis waved and then reached down beside him, pulling up the neck of his guitar.

Oh, no. He didn't. He was going to wake everyone on the street! The moon was high, and the city seemed to hush in a quiet whisper, anticipating the tinny strum of his acoustic guitar. The sound was haunting, like a dove cooing his loneliness.

Francesca was a proper Juliet, waiting to be serenaded.

"Any requests?" He asked, tickling the strings, adjusting the tension. 

"Leeeet me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with YOU!"

"Billy, goddammit." Red bickered.

Frannie grinned. "Oh, I do like Bing Crosby," she said, watching Elvis's shoulders roll back.

"Hmp. Well, I've got something better than that," Elvis retorted, clearly a nerve twinged. Was he jealous? He fanned the strings hard, kicking the neck up. He pointed right at her, announcing to a made-up crowd with a fake mic gripped in his hand, "This song is for a very, very special little lady."

“The summer wind came blowin’ in from across the sea. It lingered there to touch your hair and walk with meeee.”

Call it corny, but she had to admit it made her heart melt. 

*

Today, they were filming the scene that set the mood for the film’s romance: when Josephine and Jake first meet at the casino under the overwhelming sun of the dazzling lights.

Her hair couldn’t settle right; it kept tickling her face and she’d have to brush it away. And maybe the new air conditioning system was stirring up a lot of dust. She blinked, rubbing the corners of her eyes, trying not to muck up her make-up. The first chapter of filming early scenes consisted of a lot of retakes and so far in, her co-star had been surprisingly… good. He didn’t bring his little gang of rowdy boys in tow with him on set, even if they waited outside for him some days, revving to go. He’d actually been practicing, rehearsing his lines in his alone time. She’d caught him once or twice after hours, taking up the stage to practice his part. 

In the script, his character was supposed to be somber. Low-key. Indistinguishable from the next guy. But Elvis couldn’t help but exude a humble confidence that somehow brought his character to life. He wasn’t method acting, he was bringing himself to the table. There was almost a vulnerability in how he was playing. She had to admit that some days, he might even be outshining her. Well, most days he outshined her in his own way. No one had really gotten used to having him on set yet and they were already a good few weeks in. He was still waited on hand and foot, every female extra and crew hand stirring for a chance to snag his attention.

They played it cool. “They” being a rigid definition for what Frannie and Presley were. “They” were just having fun. Fun that had to be secret from the prying public eye. She wasn’t ashamed of dabbling in under-garment petting with a guy she was going steady with. It was a high-strung tight rope that she balanced with her own spill of emotions. Like a vase filled with water on her head. One wrong step and it would all come tumbling out. She wasn’t ready to commit her heart to anything, to anyone—especially someone as… carefree as him. So, she just relied on the safe alcove of fun.

He was talking to Cassandra now. The director was showing him the photos of her and her friends on vacation in Italy and he glanced over at Frannie with a polite, silent scream in the form of a forced smile. She snickered, trapezing her way towards him.

“Did you see the photos of her holding up the leaning tower?” Frannie came to his rescue and his face instantly softened. He smiled at her.

“Yeah, I always wanted to take a trip and do that one myself,” he lied.

Cassandra belly laughed, flipping to another photo of her and her closest friend in a tiny boat floating down the canals. “You have to try it out. We wanted to book a river cruise back home but there’s just nothing to do on those things. Nothing but old geezers shambling around in their robes drinking martinis. You guys have to go. It’s beautiful. And the locals are so darling.” She flipped to photos of a glass maker and Frannie recognized from her own time in Cassandra Conversation Penitentiary that they were near the end of the bulging photo album. Poor Elvis had been trapped here for a good ten minutes at least, hunched uncomfortably with his hands in his pockets. She glanced up at him and stifled a laugh.

“Ready to get this show on the road? I’m sure Cassandra would love to get started instead of entertaining you, Mr. Presley.” She put her hands on his shoulders to gently steer him towards the casino set.

He nodded along in an apology to Cassandra. “Oh, I’ll talk your head off if you let me.” 

Extruding himself from the conversation with a long-held sigh, he leaned down to whisper to Frannie, “You think they’ll let you take that dress for a spin off camera?”

She shoved him playfully, her face flushed. This was a pretty hot red dress. It pushed the girls up and squeezed her midriff, cascading halfway down her thighs with a pair of nice gold heels to tie it off. Josephine liked glitz and glam, the inescapable lure of high rolling her shots, risking it all.

Grabbing at the choker around her neck, she fiddled with the clasp of it, loosening it a little when it started to get noticeable, a bit harder to breathe even. She coughed, finding that her throat wasn’t clearing. Her eyes started to water. Her mascara, surely it was running. She coughed into her fist and turned away, embarrassingly fanning her face. What on Earth was she choking on?

Frannie could hear Elvis worriedly saying something to her. His hands were on her upper arms. “Hey, you’re awful red, Frannie. Do you need to sit down?” He swiveled his head. There was a stir from onlookers, spotting her distress.

She tried to tell them that everything was okay, but when she spoke, her throat was dry and tight. She wanted to clear it, but every tickle made her throat painfully raw. And she was itchy. So very itchy. It was like her hair tickled her face but every stray, frustrated swipe brushed bare skin. She rubbed her face with her palms to soothe some of the itch. A seat found its way underneath her rump and she sat in it. Her mind was absolutely awhirl. What was happening? Was she allergic to the makeup? She’d worn it yesterday just fine. The brushes, were they infected? The air conditioning couldn’t be ruled out.

“I just can’t quite—” she rasped, trying to swallow. Her tongue was swollen. Now real panic had begun to set in. Someone put a glass of water in her hands and although she tried to get some down, she merely sputtered and choked more, giving it hastily back.

“Is she choking on something?”

“She was just talking to me fine and now she’s—now she’s like this,” Elvis hurriedly explained. “Someone get an ambulance, it looks like she’s been stung or something.” He put the back of his hand to her forehead. “And she’s burning up. We need someone here, now! Isn’t there a medic on set?”

People were scrambling. Her heart was racing. She focused on her breathing, slowly dragging in and out, doing her best to ignore the overwhelming urge to scratch at her face, her neck, the lobes of her ears.

“My god, Frannie…” Elvis murmured, petting her head. “It’s okay. Someone’s on the way to help. Did you maybe eat something or…?”

She shook her head, loosely pointing to her face, tongue too swollen to talk. She didn’t have any allergies that she was aware of. Whatever reaction she was having had plateaued. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears like a machine. Whoom. Whoom. Whoom. She was gripping Elvis’s hand so tightly, but he didn’t complain. 

It felt like ages for medical personnel to arrive on set. Cassandra had a shirt tied up full of ice she was using to try and keep the swelling down, the cool actually soothing some of the flare. 

The paramedic whistled, dragging up a rattling military green can of oxygen. The mask was fitted over her face and she eagerly inhaled the cool, sterile air. It breathed in easier and she managed to sedate some of the race in her heartbeat. But she still clung to Elvis while they assessed her, escorting her into the back of the ambulance on a stretcher. She was able to remain sitting up and managed to eke out, “You don’t have to—”

“Save it,” he assured her in two words, a finger held up before his caring smile. He was stricken with worry. It was cutting lines in his brow, darkening his handsome face. He leaned over her, helping her loosen the side zip of her dress so that the paramedic could see how far down her redness went. She glanced down, seeing it taper away. 

“You must have gotten into something, sweetheart. You maybe mess around with any poison ivy? Get any chemicals on your skin?” the paramedic asked. His blue gloved hands uncapped an indiscernible bottle of pills that at first Frannie adamantly avoided, turning her head to the side.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. It’s just an antihistamine. It’ll make you feel better,” Elvis cajoled, turning her head back so gently. “S’okay. They’re gonna take care of you.” She could hear it in his voice.

Somehow, she managed to swallow down two tiny red pills that clung and clawed at her throat. She felt them plunk all the way down into her stomach. She went through her entire day, nothing different, nothing out of the ordinary. But the one thing she could parse that’d touched her face the most had been the make-up, the brushes, the working hands of the ladies. She was starting to lose sight, her cheeks swelling up and pushing against her eyes. She squinted, blinking slowly.

After a grudgingly slow ambulance ride and a few fumbling medicinal tryouts—Ana-Kits were more painful than she’d thought they’d be—the doctors finally surmised that somehow she’d crossed paths with poison ivy in some way, shape or form. Although she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been traversing anywhere near wild foliage that wasn’t picked, shorn and manicured at a public park. She had an immediate, gut sinking thought. That someone had tainted her make-up. Before, it’d been a tiny sewing needle in her red lipstick, and now it was poisonous extract meant to make her very face look as unappealing as possible. Someone was trying to sabotage her!

For fear of not being believed and for tipping off whomever was tormenting her, she kept the secret tight lipped. She wouldn’t tell anyone, not until she had evidence along with her suspicions. She needed to confiscate that make-up before it could be tossed out.

After a few hours, the swelling had gone down immensely. She touched her face, shoulders sagging with relief. If she’d had to perform looking like this… she shook her head. It was entirely out of the question. She could tell that her skin was already flaking and dry, it was so tight against her skull.

Cold salve was applied to her skin, painted down to her chest, thick and sticky like tar. It melted with her body heat, magnifying her discomfort as it tickled her skin, running down in rivulets into the swathes of bandage they used as a levy. Never had she felt more unappealing and yet, steadfast by her side: sleeping Elvis. He was propped back, legs kicked open, head canted to the side, hands steepled in his lap. A glance at the wall said it was near a quarter till ten. And an anxious peapod stack of faces at the door said the Memphis Mafia was woefully a man down. She could hear them talking amongst themselves.

“What do you mean ‘he’s asleep’? You mean Frannie or Elvis?” Red West asked.

“You deaf? He. He’s conked out in the chair, upright stepdad style. Probably drooling and everything.” Marty quipped back.

“Is Frannie awake?” Jerry peeked through the glass.

“Yeah, she’s looking at me.” Marty said.

“Like, looking, looking at you? She’s awake? Coherent? Alive?”

“Get the hell out of the way.” They all tumbled into the room. 

“I’m the only one who even checked in. See, Frannie. Look at my visitor’s pass. Heh, told ‘em I was your cousin from Brooklyn ‘cuz we both have New York accents,” Marty said.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Frannie laughed, her voice stuffy in her ears.

The boys laughed, the sound rousing Elvis instantly with a snore. He cleared his throat, blinking at them, his head snapping to her, eyes wide, scanning. His hands balanced on her bedside as he stood up, looking over her. 

“Francesca, are you alright?” He looked like he’d had a bad dream. Spooked. Displaced. He touched her, seeming to ground himself. “How do you feel?”

She was sheepish to be in the spotlight thusly. Without letting on, she said passively, “I must have had a reaction to the foundation.”

“How long do you think you’ll look like…” Jerry trailed. “Like you’re hankering for some aloe vera.”

There was a stirring of snickers. She licked her teeth and grinned. “Well, about two or three weeks. In the meantime, I have to stay out of the sun. I can’t have any beauty products on my skin for at least a month, even after I’ve healed. They’re worried I might develop an allergy to any irritants. So, it’s safe to say I won’t, uh—,” She swallowed, feeling a punch well up in her chest. But she didn’t cry about it, no sense in that. Just keep pushing forward. She blinked away the tears, the room stark silent. Still.

“Chess, it’s alright. You don’t even have to worry about that. Cassandra will put everything on hold for you.” Elvis, sweet Elvis assured. 

Chess. That was a new nickname; leave it to Elvis to shorten Fran-ces-ca to Chess. She loved it, even in her blurry antihistamine haze. And although she knew he was only trying to comfort her, assuage some of her deepest concerns mid turmoil, she was in pain. Someone was messing with her. On what should be her red-carpet debut film. She thought of her mother, of her warm, round face in the sun, telling her to make a wish on her birthday as a child.

“What’d you wish for?”

“For dance classes, Mamma!”

“I don’t want things put on hold for me. I want everything to be perfect, despite knowing very well that it isn't realistic. Filming has its flaws, critics have their teeth, ticket sales can disappoint. And sometimes the leading actress can turn into a crawfish days into filming.”

Elvis patted the back of her hand, urging her to peer up at him. “Well, prettiest little crawfish I’ve ever seen. Ain’t that right fellas?”

“Oh, you bet, boss.”  “Most gorgeous crawfish.” “I ever tell you guys that crawfish are my favorite food?” “Boys, get a load of that.”

They were all talking over one another in a cacophony and she was stuck laughing at them, those tears she fought off rearing their vengeful heads, blazing down her sensitive cheeks, out of sight before anyone could catch them. 

*

Filming commenced almost like usual. It could always be done in any order. Cassandra was more than happy to wait out Francesca’s bout of illness and told her not to push things, to return when she was good and ready after much needed rest.

The entire collection of makeup had been trashed and there were lacquered, shiny new replacements all glimmering in their place. Brushes and applicators were all replaced, leaving no wiggle room for cross contamination, just in case. Frannie had informed everyone that it was an allergic reaction, but Elvis knew what he’d heard. That EMT spotted it dead on, and even he recognized it when it was pointed out. The clouds of red, raised gooseflesh. The itching, the swelling. It was poison ivy. And a really bad reaction to it, at that. 

Had someone tainted Francesca’s makeup? Elvis absently touched his face. Surely a brush would have displaced some of that residue onto him, no? She’d gone to makeup after him, even. Things were starting to seem odd.

“Hey, Mr. Presley!” Eddie wretched him out of his pondering. He waved his newly healed arm flawlessly.

“I told you, Eddie, you can just call me Elvis. I’d prefer it if you did.”

The young man had come down to earth a bit, seeing Elvis humanized in his presence and not just some ideal. It was a nice, slow change of pace that he rarely got to experience with people unless on the set of something. He could get to know them, the real them. Sometimes that was nice. Other times, it could be daunting.

With Eddie, it was just pleasant. He was a nice, shy kid. But there was something there, a somber turmoil lying just underneath. The kid had sad eyes—his smile just didn’t quite reach them. 

“How’s Frannie? She looked real bad in the hospital that day.” He shook his head while heading up the scaffolding ladder to adjust a shoulder high light. 

“Better than ever. She wanted to come back today, but her agent wouldn’t let her.”

“Well, that’s probably for the best. She pushes herself so much already.” A live bulb popped in his hand and he barely flinched, taking another from his utility belt to replace it.

“She asked about you, wanted to make sure you weren’t getting into any trouble.”

“Only all the time, Mr.— Elvis.”

Speaking of trouble, he was thinking about getting himself in some tonight. Only the good kind, though. Francesca was feeling better. Although he hadn’t given a damn about some dry skin, her self image had taken a plummet. 

“Just when we were really getting to know each other…” She’d lamented over the phone, her velvet voice stroking his ear through the receiver. He missed spying on her dancing. He couldn’t wait for their moment to film a love scene together. One with some pretty smoking lines and heavy petting. It would be a short, passionate foray to leave the audience enticed, roused, wanting more. 

He’d shown up at her loft with gifts each day, fistfuls of tiger lilies and gladiolus, jewels to compliment her eyes, sweets to grace her mouth. He lingered in her doorway, where she wouldn’t let him in. Her apartment was gorgeous. Feminine. Art nouveau in black, gold and pink. 

Elvis asked her on a date. A date date. Somewhere he knew they wouldn’t be bothered with paparazzi, a fancy restaurant where other A-listers mingled under the pretense they wouldn’t be hounded by cameras while they tried to enjoy a pleasant meal.

“What’s this place called again?” Francesca asked.

“The Experience.”

The upgrade from waiting out on the street to waiting in her apartment hallway was drastic. He felt ten feet tall and bulletproof, and that was before she peeked her towel-wrapped head from the door and asked, “Would you like to come in? I still need to curl my hair, if you don’t mind waiting.”

“Not at all.” He practically jumped at the chance. He felt a giddy sense of boyishness to have achieved the feat of passing into her domain. It was so very Frannie inside, decorated lavishly with a touch of class. Everywhere his eyes fell, there was a new painting or statue to admire, a new glass menagerie of animals to be mesmerized by, a fluffy white cat nervously darting past his ankles! 

“That’s Stella. She’s shy. Don’t try petting her though, she’ll just bite you.” Frannie warned, while said “shy” girl looped in between his ankles, purring like a tractor. “Oh, well that’s new. She probably smells you on me.”

Elvis watched Frannie disappear into the bathroom. She had an Italian record playing. He had no idea what the lyrics were saying, but the song was warm.

É l'uomo per me,è sicuro di sé,da uomo so già,

i progetti che ha,i sogni che fa...Ma ciò che amo in lui,è il ragazzo che,nasconde in sé...

When she emerged, her dark brown hair in shiny gun barrel spirals, her body poured into a black wiggle dress, dainty feet strapped into red pumps. Stunning. She wore a pair of ruby studs in her pretty ears, ones he’d bought for her. On her neck, a string of gold adrip with a heavy blood garnet, another gift to her. It gave him a furl of pride, having her draped in his fineries. His gifts. He was growing erect just thinking about her parading about in lingerie he purchased. His mouth ran dry. Did she even know what she was doing to him?

“You know, you’re lucky I don’t feel like getting my bike out of storage.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, staring at her approach. Her hips swayed when she walked, her natural gait alluring him.

“Hmm, because I’d smoke you. And I don’t know the way. And I’d lose you and therefore, get lost out in the city. Probably have to ask for directions. Hey, has anyone seen Elvis come by here? Probably making this shocked face because his date made him eat her dust?”

Elvis laughed. “Alright. Alright. I’m intrigued. You know you’re going to have to show me up one day. You do have an unfair advantage though, being so small. The bike probably barely touched the road with you flying on the back of it.”

She tucked her arm in his, grabbing a dark leather jacket before scooting out the door with him. He admitted that he wanted to toss her over his shoulder then and there, find out firsthand what her bedroom looked like. But instead, like the true gentleman he was, he presented her with her own helmet and off they went, uptown, into the blinding lights where it looked like day.

An added bonus of the helmet meant that his identity was concealed up until the very moment he rolled up to the flabbergasted valet.

“Eh—El-Elv—,” his eyes were wide with shock and then his expression disappointedly fell. “Oh, I… I can’t drive one of those, sir. We have a gentleman who can, but he’s off tonight, you see.”

“Say no more, we can park it ourselves.” Not a bother. But it was a portent for things soon to come.

They were met with absolute professionalism; the star-struck gaped jaws stopped at the door. There were whispers, eyes, and head tilts once inside but nobody outright said anything. Still, he wondered if this was a bold, careless move. Would word get out? Did he mind? He minded if it bothered her. He checked her intermittently as they waltzed through the opulent dining room beneath a cascade of golden chandelier light. But she never seemed distressed. In fact, she appeared happy, with her hand in his.

The waiter took their orders with haste, showering them in complimentary drinks that mostly went undertaken. She sipped a sunset-colored drink a bit, already feeling a little flushed halfway down the flute.  

“Mr. Presley, your prime rib. And the chef sent these for you and your lovely date, on the house of course. We do hope you enjoy them.” He set out a sparkling pewter tray with a modest hunk of steak. Not exactly a belt adjusting meal, but he wasn’t about to look unrefined in front of his date.

That was until her meal arrived.

“Your Peking Duck, ma’am.” The waiter sat down a gleaming silver down, uncapping a waft of steam that revealed a marvelously pitiful cut of greasy, dark duck against a wilted pile of steamed vegetables. A ruby sauce cut across the two-bite meal and Elvis was glued to Francesca’s stunned expression.

Frannie’s eyes widened. Her lips thinned. The corners pulled up in the barest hint of a smile. She was struggling not to laugh. They’d waited over an hour for that little poot of fowl.

The waiter rubbed his gloved hands before reluctantly extracting without another word, hurrying off to avoid explaining exactly where all that money had gone. Elvis wasn’t a stranger to fine dining (though he always preferred the down home Southern cooking of his youth), but these portions were almost comical.

He looked at her and caught her staring right back and before either could say anything, Francesca burst out laughing, immediately covering her mouth, but nothing could cage that birdsong. She snickered, cutting her serving in half and offering him a spoonful. “Well, would you like to try a little of mine? I don’t think I’m going to be able to finish all of this on my own.” She sighed, picking at it playfully. Her foot glanced against his. He felt heat rush to his face. Been a long while since he felt such butterflies.

Elvis took her offering with gusto, but the bird was as greasy as it looked and the breading was staler than the salad croutons. He swallowed it down with a little choke, comically thumping his chest and taking down a gulp of seltzer water. Was the kitchen just having an off night, then? Did he crack wise about it? Was this the norm and he wasn’t aware?

But no, Francesca was almost in tears, taking her time with making a show out of slicing little slivers off to eat. Her eyes sparkled when she saw the complimentary desserts though and she gladly scooped up goopy, white panna cotta, reflecting that it tasted almost as good as her grandmother’s recipe. Strawberry dripped after her on the white tablecloth and she flinched, glancing up at him with an expression that said it all. His heart lurched in his chest. She was so… cute. Real playful like. The panna cotta, she ate with no qualms, no snickering. She even staked out his portion, which he gladly forfeited saying, “Like I said, already full up.” He patted his stomach, finishing the frustratingly teensy dish he’d been served. His stomach lurched, growling loudly in contest to the brassy piano.

She heard it and leaned forward. “I know this killer burger joint just a couple of blocks away from my apartment. I mean,” she made a gesture with her hands, showing how big around these sandwiches had to be. “Let’s get outta here. Leave that poor waiter a nice tip.”

“I’m already on it,” he flagged down the check and wiped his mouth, tossing down a wad for the waiter who nervously peeked at them from the kitchen door window. He waved, happily grabbing Frannie’s coat and draping it over her elegant shoulders. He got a heady waft of her perfume and it almost took him to his knees. The effort not to lean into her was grand, but he managed.

Out the door they went. The rain cleared, leaving just a misting in the air that glittered like diamonds in the streetlights. He watched her stroll towards the valet, he watched her settle on her helmet, he watched her lithe wrists slipping in under his elbows to cradle his waist, to hold tight to him while he rode with her. Never had he driven so slowly, so carefully. He made each stop with precision, gingerly pumping the brakes. 

The full moon followed them on a journey with no real destination. He just wanted to extend this moment with her, make it last for as long as he could. He didn’t want to go home yet. Not when nights could be spent like this. He felt her rest her head against his back. He felt her trusting him.

“You know,” she said above the rush of wind, “I’m not made of glass, Elvis. Unless you’re scared of going any faster? Pump it.”

Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing, stirring him up like that. He gripped the bars, feeling the smooth stretch of highway extending into the star-studded night. The wind through his hair. The spray of cosmos fanned above them like God’s hands, brighter the further they drove from the city. Passing cars thinned until there were only a set of headlights every ten minutes or so. Out in the country, where all would be black if not for the milk light of moon, the prairie was lit up, cast in jagged mountain shadows. Streetlamps bounced like marbles in the distance, disappearing from sight.

He strolled the bike to a stop, pedaling his feet against the asphalt. Dismounting, giving her his hand, he’d brought her out to a retired cow pasture, left to see wildflowers and clover for the soil in the future. Probably not the ritziest location, but it beat a hell of a lot of other shit he’d been getting up to.

For the first time in days, he wasn’t itching for anything but time. More time with her.

She hadn’t said anything yet, she was just taking in the view, wide eyed and maybe even a little skittish. He helped her down a thrushy knoll, leaving the road and any hint of civilization behind as they danced through open terrain. It was like walking in a dream.

“Where are we going?” She asked curiously, watching him as they passed brambles. He stomped down the sagging barb-wire fence enclosing the wide, wide pasture and escorted her over.

“After you.”

She patted his shoulder and he could see the moon on her red, smiling lips. So beautiful it made his heart ache. “Such a gentleman. And they say chivalry is dead.”

“Alive and well, Chess.” He guided them deeper in. 

“Where did you find this place?” she asked.

The wind had picked up and in the hills they could hear the wail of coyotes intermittently yipping as they cut across the dark, unseen. “It’s a long story. It was the first time I went to Vegas with the boys, and I got drunk out of my mind. I mean, if someone handed me a beer or something that night, no questions asked, I was drinking it. I don’t even know why; I never drink. Anyway, so I wake up, completely alone, completely naked—”

Frannie snorted, spinning, crouching, pointing. Sweetly joyous at his expense. “No!”

“Yeah. Had my socks and my shoes on, but nothing else.” 

She couldn’t stop laughing. “What car?”

He gawked, “That! That’s what you ask me?”

“I just— haha!” She had to lean against him for laughing so hard. “I just want to picture it accurately! Were you working on your tan with the top down in the Cadillac?”

“No, no. I was driving this, okay, it was a Cadillac, but an “Eldorado Biarritz”. I hated that thing. The top leaked, she steered like a boat. There was this smell, like syrup had been spilled somewhere and I want you to know I got on my hands and knees smelling the inside of that damn car, trying to find what that smell was. Never did. But anyway. I’m naked, yeah, sprawled out like I’m tubing.” He posted his arms up, kicking up one leg. 

“You’re killing me!” She squealed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. They’d stopped now and they were both unafraid, undeterred by the darkness around them. Like no one else, like nothing else existed right in that moment. “So, you wake up absolutely cooked, right?”

“Bingo. Like a lobster, from head to, well, ankle. And I’m out of gas. I can’t even get her to turn over, I must have left it running in park, because I’m neatly pulled over in the shallow ditch. Just like the one we walked across now. I have absolutely no idea where I’m at. I’m thinking that I could start walking that way, or maybe that way. Don’t know where I’m about to end up. I could probably hitchhike, but I hadn’t seen any cars pass. I’m absolutely dying of thirst, my mouth was just like this.” He opened his mouth comically wide. 

She grinned, rapt on his every word, bundling up in her jacket. “Well, obviously someone comes to your rescue.”

Elvis pointed dead ahead to a fissure in the ground, a tiny creek carved its way, whispering through the meadow. Large, low flat boulders peeked from the ground.

“I keep walking, but I don’t take the road. Cause to my right, I see all the cows. Chewing, looking at me with their big ol’ sad eyes. At this point, I’m talking to the cows. Asking where their handler is and lo and behold, like some John Wayne yankee doodle comes down from the heavens with a canteen and a way to get me back to town, but only if I helped him out around the farm a little bit before I left.”

She tilted her head in that curious, bird-like way. “You’re kidding. Elvis Presley, rolling up his sleeves to lend a little elbow grease? I’m charmed by this new side of you.”

“Well, don’t fall in love yet, ‘cause I made that up. The boys and me just wanted a low-profile place to mingle a little uh, more…” He coughed. “Intimately with the ladies. Or just partying it up on a more reserved scale.”

His vision had adjusted to the dark and he watched her roll her eyes. “You’re unforgivable,” she said forgivingly, brushing her index finger down his nose. “You should direct something.”

“I’m not into that whole part of the deal.”

She shrugged, “You have a knack for storytelling. I was hooked on every word. You know, I’m still gonna tell people this story like it was true.” She laughed, clearly joking, but at the mention of her telling stories to anyone, he felt his collar constrict, his throat dry. Did she find him hard to work with? Was he making something out of this that he shouldn’t? He had to make it up to her then. If she saw him that way, it was up to him to change that, right?

Elvis looked along the creek bed a minute before spotting what he was looking for. He’d been up here just a few months ago, doing donuts in some cars and lighting fireworks with the boys. But now, he wanted to enjoy this with her.

A weary little woodshed housed dry twigs and branches. More than enough to build a small campfire. There were remnants of the old bonfire here, charred bottles and Roman candles laying in the ashes. Surrounding the pit were large rocks, hand-picked and tirelessly rolled up the embankment to make for rustic seating. She sat on one, looking like some fairy queen, moonlight a diadem on her dark locks. Heavenly.

He used his zippo to spark some leaves and within minutes they had a nice bundle of flames licking the damp wood, crackling moisture into the embers.

“Red found this place. He had to keep telling me that I was driving the right way. He used to work for the rancher that owns all this and got permission to search the cow patties for them magic mushrooms. But it’s also just a pretty clean spot just to unwind.”

He grew bored of clubs quickly. Parties were best thrown at his own place, and he didn’t feel like planning any damn parties lately. It was frustrating and tenacious, pushing away efforts for social interactions, even if he deeply craved them. He’d almost fallen into a rut lately. Flop after flop. But with Frannie, something was markedly different.

Breathing was easier. Going to filming on time, easier. Sleeping at night, knowing he’d get to see her again in the morning, like the sun rising, like the sun setting. She was always with him. It started with infatuation, tapering into obsession, and now he felt something roiling like a wild maelstrom inside of him. Feelings that left him unsure of what to do with himself, so he could only gaze at her, wringing his hands, wishing they were around her waist, pinning her wrists, caressing her face. He wanted to be so much more than a fun time to her.

“I really like it here, Elvis. When I was a little girl, I was in one of those programs where they’d take the poor city kids and plunk them into the country for a few weeks in summer. Y’know, to show us there was life outside the concrete jungle and stuff. That’s how I used to go on camping trips all the time. When I started making a little money and my career was just taking off, I’d take my family out to scenic places with me for every occasion. It was my go-to, pick-me-up. My kid brother got good grades in school. Road trip to Nevada! Mom’s birthday? Niagara Falls! Dad came down with the flu? How about spring break in Yellowstone?” She didn’t lose an ounce of her humor, even in telling him such vulnerable utterances. He didn’t know. “When I was little, I didn’t realize that I was so poor, and a tent and some cans of chicken noodle were maybe all my parents could afford to send me off with at the time. They were immigrants, you know. But they always made the most of it. I lost my mom a year ago.” She winced. Elvis understood how she felt, for he too was exceptionally close with his family—his late mother most of all. “And my dad is getting older now. Even though now it’s much harder for him to get around, he still sits in his garden back in Brooklyn, greeting all the new cicadas and weeding his veggie beds. He taught me how to can tomatoes. Which berries were safe. Did you know every multi-bulbed berry in North America is edible? All of them!” She was alight, sharing these things with him. He didn’t know it when he brought her out here, but maybe this was the best date he could have picked.

“So, you’ve been to Yellowstone?”

“Never. I was just joking about that one. My Mom actually wanted to go before she... anyway, I never got to go.” 

“Let’s go. As soon as filming is wrapped up. Ditch the red-carpet premiere and—”

The look she cast upon him made him icy at once. “It’ll be my first. I wouldn’t dream of missing the premier. My family will be there.” She blinked slowly and he realized that he’d made a mistake. “Sorry, I just…”

“No, no. Nothing to apologize for. I didn’t mean to make light of it. I know what a big accomplishment this is for you, Chess. I’ll share that moment with you. Promise.” He looped his pinkie finger in hers, making amends as quickly as he could, steering them back on course. Don’t fub this now, bozo. “But as soon as our butts are out of those seats, we’re taking a road trip straight to Yellowstone. I’ll bring a boatload of film, we can take all the pictures, make all the memories.” Was he rambling? Losing her? Floundering? 

“So, how much of that story was true? They say there’s something genuine in every imitation, an artist can’t help but leave a piece of himself behind.” She kept taking pieces of his heart, one stunning smile after the other, leaving her calling card in the wake of her theft. Did she know the effect she had on him?

He leaned in, telling her honestly, “Okay, I did wake up naked with nothing but my shoes and socks on one time, but no one knows how I got there or how the car got to the Denny’s parking lot.”

“See, that wouldn’t have been nearly as glamorous as an abandoned cow field.”

“I do have a way with these things,” he puffed up his chest and she deflated it with a push to his sternum. When he exhaled, his lips pursed, she closed their distance suddenly with a quick kiss. Her lips were soft in that moment, pressing against his. He was stunned when she retracted and he almost forgot to breathe. They were alone, out in the dark of night beneath pale moon beams aside a crackling bonfire, their desires stirred; he knew that the moment this started, it would be near impossible to stop. He didn’t trust himself to have the self-control necessary to curb his arousal. He wanted her. Badly. Deeply. 

“You look intense, Press,” she teased. “Are you worried you might mess this up?”

Press and Chess. He liked the sound of that. His hands instantly magnetized to the dip of her waist. His forehead was pressed against hers. Licking his lips, he told her, “If I’m honest with myself, I’m not even sure what “This” is.” To me. To you.

“What’s it feel like?” She asked, her breath fanning him, sweetly scented like rose water candies. Her fingers played with the baby hairs on his nape, breaking pleasant shivers along his flesh. 

“Feels like one wrong move and I could mess up a real good thing.” If his dream grew too fanatical, he’d jolt awake, dripping with a cold sweat, clinging to the sheets just to realize it wasn’t real. That it never had been, even if it’d earnestly felt that way. Touching her now grounded him in that reality. She’s here and she doesn’t seem like she wants to run for the hills. 

Francesca whispered, even though for miles and miles, only they remained. “We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

But he of all people knew how easy it was to fall out of that hazy paradise of affection and into bleak, tolerant monotony.

Elvis could see it in her eyes. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. And if that was the case, she wouldn’t have any complaints if he dipped in for another smoldering kiss, taking her breath. She gasped, letting him gather her into his arms. Her fragrance wafted over him, suffusing him. He was dizzy, inhaling her, burying his nose in her neck when he kissed her gorgeous nape. 

Frannie couldn’t hide the shy pull of her shoulders. He knew she was still self-conscious about the poison ivy that’d marred her skin, but even without his love-struck bias, he could hardly see anything beyond a flush of pink, hidden beautifully by her own rosy glow as she bloomed underneath his ministrations. She was like sugar, melting into his touch. 

He laid her down by the firelight, the sway of flames painting them in dancing shadow. They were about to join in an atavistic way. Her kisses became feverish when he had her pinned. Intoxicated on a whole new kind of high, he couldn’t get enough of her. She tasted divine, better than any ambrosia. He licked his tongue against her, cajoling her to join him. Eliciting a little whimper, she did, canting her head to the side, lashes fluttering shut.

Elvis learned that Frannie’s ears were sensitive. His nose brushed across one and she shuddered beneath him, her nipples straining against her dress. She wore no bra. Kissing her ear, nibbling the curved shell, she was wiggling, sinking him like quicksand, till they were hip and hip like in her dressing room. He beat off to that on more than one occasion; it kept him company when she forbade him from seeing her healing face.

The real deal couldn’t be beaten. He was enthralled, wrapped around her finger. He wanted to coset her, give her anything she could ever ask for. Her dreams were great and if she wanted to be a star, he would do his utmost to manifest that with everything he had.

He didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to ruin this moment or break the spell. Maybe he would wake up in his bed, alone. Maybe this was a dream after all. But Francesca felt very real in Elvis’s arms, returning his kisses, rocking her hips against him. He felt her heels on the backs of his thighs and it made his dick pulse unreasonably hard. She felt it, purring, tossing her head to the side.

“Push that against me,” she rasped, spurring him with a nudge. 

He happily obliged, thrusting against her. Heaven. He caged her beneath him, tongue in her mouth, cock throbbing against her silk panties. The clanging of his belt was muffled by his heartbeat. She freed him, her soft palms cradling his cock excitedly. Her eager eyes laid on him and she wetted her lips, amazed when a thick bead of pre-come beaded on his crown. She daubed her finger to it, bringing it up to her lips for a lick, almost absent mindedly, like she hadn’t realized what she’d just done. She was too erotic for her own good, pulling the thread and undoing him at her leisure. 

The fire tumbled, sending a shimmer of cinders into the air. Like the blaze she’d set in his heart, burning him from the inside out. He kissed her hard, hard enough to bruise and she didn’t glance away. Always step for step with him, perfectly in stride. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known.

He rolled her panties down and she helped, until she seemed to catch up with his own fervent pace and realize she might be going too far, too fast with him. Her words rang in his ears. 

No sex.

Elvis hadn’t done something so needy since his high school days. Feeding into her plump thighs, wedged in the snug warmth, he felt the tell-tell draws almost instantly, that lick of heat against the base of his spine. He was done for and not stopping to curb his indulgence one bit. He hilted deep, cock throbbing. When he started to thrust his hips, the tension coiled white hot with every drawn-out pump. Weight propped on his arms, he isolated motion solely to his pelvis, rocking against her in rhythmic strokes. 

“Ooh, I love the way you move your hips,” she stammered, holding onto him.

He sputtered incoherently, brows knitting as he slowed his roll to keep from spilling mid-sentence, mid thought when he said, “Now, just imagine how it’d feel buried deep inside of you.” 

Francesca moaned, turning to kiss him. With each drop, her hips rose up. He could feel her getting wet, could feel the heat radiating from her slick core. He couldn’t stop picturing it, just one adjustment and he could slam right in, would she hate him so much? Not a chance in the world he’d shatter her trust in him like that. But it was an amorous fantasy, Francesca begging for him to give it to her. His body was made for pleasuring hers, they were just so compatible.

She angled her hips and he felt his shaft glide between her lips. When he peered down at the dark thatch of curls, at the endless pink that did beg to envelop him, his resolve wavered. 

“Francesca, you’re going to ruin me.”

She signed his heart with her impish smile, acknowledging his agony with an eager pitch forward. If he let her move all on her own, she did so with serene grace, mesmerizing him with the sensual roll of her body. Her arms stretched up, her elegant back arched, her thighs drew him deeper against her. Even if she didn’t admit it, even if he busted clean across her pretty dress instead, he knew for a fact that she wanted him. She was glistening wet, cool air kissing his shaft the brief seconds their sexes would uncouple. 

It was the most intimate experience of his life and he wasn’t even having penetrative sex. He thrust against her and she cried out, “If you keep moving, just like that… you’ll make me see stars.”

Oh, that was the plan. He wanted her in the throes, cast out to choppy waters, he wanted her just as helpless for him as he was for her. He took measured lengths not to come, not until she got hers. His pace hitched and he sputtered, quickly getting back on track, listening to the even rise of her moans, strung deliciously together. Making music.

They held on, clinging to one another for dear life, kissing like young lovers, bumping teeth in excitement, lips mashing. Maybe he had fallen along the way, because he was losing himself in her.

“Frannie, you’re going to pull it right out of me,” he groaned, cradling her face in his hands while he plunged, losing grasp in one slip. But she was beyond words, her body arched on a soundless cry. She was beautiful in his arms, coming on him, because of him, wringing him dry across her creamy abdomen. Gorgeous, heaven sent, all his. He nosed her hair, he muttered sweet nothings, he kissed her damp brow. He wanted to tell her all the things he felt, about how he was both scared and elated that he was possibly tumbling deep into the maddening abyss of love. But he didn’t really know how yet and suspected that she might be the one to show him how to express it, to love someone. 

For now, he’d rest on his laurels, swimming in the tepid oasis of “fun,” where they might be something committed, but they weren’t an official couple. Like their names didn’t sound perfect together. His mind was a whirl one moment and then drained the next. He collapsed on top of her, holding his weight aloft while he just breathed her in, noting how her scent changed when it mingled with his.

“Did you see where my panties went?” She reached around on the ground but before they could both say anything, silently, they both spotted said panties go up in a hiss of flame, escorted in by the shifting wind. It was picking up now, getting colder, their breath clinging in the night air.

Frannie’s hair was mussed, her lips were parted, her dress was still askew (and now dirty on the back, but he wasn’t going to tell her about that part). They kicked dirt onto the fire, a haunting scene, leaving them to scurry back to the roadside with just the stars lighting their way. He felt her chilly hands trembling, but she told him later that it had been with excitement.

The moon was high in the sky and there was no telling what time it was. He didn’t care one bit as they saddled up, taking the scenic route all the way back to the city. Where the night sky all but disappeared under the haze of streetlights and skyscrapers, billboards and neon signs. It had an untamed beauty all on its own, the concrete jungle. 

“Tonight was amazing, Press,” Francesca said, kissing him goodbye, firstly on the cheek. “And you are an amazing experience, all your own.” Then she kissed his lips.

“You’re a once in a lifetime, Frannie.”

Elvis knew as he watched her leave that they’d have nights like this again and again.

[whentherewerebicycles]

time to declutter my brain by making some LISTS!!!! 

time available to me in the immediate future:

had amazing weekend in pittsburgh! am flying home tonight so will have about 5-6 hours of airport and flight time where i can work on whatever

i have only one meeting & one tiny work task on the agenda for tomorrow so i will have that entire day

wednesday morning is packed with meetings but i’ll be finished by 12 and then will have the rest of the day to run errands, pack, and do other last-minute trip stuff

thursday morning will be a bit of a mad scramble but then i will have 10-11 hours of sustained work time on the plane to use however i want

things i need to get done: 

pre-trip errands. i ordered a shitload of travel clothes & other stuff that all arrived this weekend, so i need to try everything on, decide what i’m taking with me, and drop off all returns before i leave. i also need to buy dog food, water plants, and pay some medical bills.

campus visit. i’ve gotten too far in the weeds with all the prep work and research, which is fine, like i needed to do that reading and thinking, but also now it’s time to step back from it a little bit and start thinking about the pieces i’m going to pull out for the actual talk. the sooner i can get a detailed outline together the less stressed i’ll feel, so i think i may spend tonight’s plane ride outlining by hand (since writing things out instead of typing helps me organize my thinking more efficiently). i want to think about several possible configurations for that hour, and then i also want to create a to-do list so i have a clearer sense of the stuff i need to prep or script in the next couple weeks.

i know i am going to put a lot of pressure on myself to do this “perfectly” or whatever, but i want to try to gently push back against that impulse. i am so prepared for this interview. the presentation doesn’t have to convey absolutely everything because i will have the entire day to answer questions and bring up things i want to mention. my goal is to not get lost into the details but to keep my messaging simple, direct, and compelling. i also read a bunch of articles in the chronicle this morning about how hard it is for universities to recruit and retain talented admin staff right now, and that made me feel a bit better about going into the interview. interviews are two-way evaluations and if they are interested enough in me for this role to invite me to campus, they are also going to be feeling some pressure to make this a positive experience and to convince me that this is the place i want to be.

IUI planning. i test tomorrow but kind of have a gut feeling this cycle didn’t work! i know i’ll be disappointed if the test is negative but i also think i’m so busy with other stuff that i’ll move on pretty fast and be ready to try again. i just need to reach out to my doctor before my trip to see what she thinks about squeezing something in around the travel and the campus visit - the timing will get a little hairy so it might not be worth it to try this month. we’ll see! but i have to do that before i leave as i need to know if i should take the meds with me & i also will need to set up my sister with the info to call the donor bank for me.

fic comments. lol my goal for this last cycle was to do 14 comments in 14 days and i only managed to do 4!! i will cut myself some slack here as when i set the goal i didn’t know about the job interview yet and didn’t anticipate that other stuff would fill all that open time. but i might try to do a few more on the plane tonight - maybe i can get to 7 at least. 

okay! there’s a lot ahead of me but honestly i think i did a ton of good work in march and that has prepared me to roll into a very busy april in a reasonably calm state of mind. i can handle everything that lies ahead. and wow i’m about to have a very cool travel experience too!! and basically two full weeks where  don’t have to think about my current job for even a second! i know i’ll probably be tired at the end of the trip but i hope it’s also a good brain break for me.

[stealing-the-smp]

Member 10

The Doctor

Aloe

Lives by the end: 1

Alignment: Neutral Good

Sides: Pogtopia(? Was mostly there because they were the underdogs so would need the most injuries patched), Hydra’s underground city(always has a place there), The Cult(mind controlled or wouldn’t join)

Age: Unclear but in their 20s

Species: Blaze hybrid

Gender: Nonbinary

Pronouns: Any

Sexuality: Pan and Poly

Morals: Helping others at any cost, Not hurting others

Goals: just help people given people on this server tend to get really banged up

Likes: Lemons, Medical stuff, Sassing others, Getting to sit on Sam’s back to avoid walking, Warm temperatures

Dislikes: The “Egg”(gonna change it eventually), Water

Allies: Demi, Sam, Mahogany, Vian, Hydra, Bee, Franklin

Enemies: tries to not make enemies it’s a bad idea

Family: None

Appearance: Aloe has dark skin and white hair and dark eyes which sometimes you can see little specs of yellow in if she’s emotional in some way(anger and confidence and happiness are really likely to do this meanwhile sadness and disgust and fear usually have the dark eyes staying normal) they also have yellow blaze like qualities on their hands and feet or at least hand given in the cult arc they lost their left arm at first at the elbow but it was ripped off so they had to amputate it to a little higher so it would heal better also you can often find them wearing a mask that only has their eyes revealed and is reds, blacks, and yellows

Quotes:

“Oh! I have medical knowledge I could help out!”

“Pssh my teenage crush was too embarrassing for anyone to ever know….”

“Oh! That’s just Dog my horse and that’s Cat my bee…. Shhhh don’t tell them that!”

“Oh I’m not approaching you to be allies I’m trying to date you…there’s a clear difference Sam”

“What if I called you Sammy? How would you respond Sammyyy”

“Oh this is Lemon tree it’s my home!”

“my home……”

“Sammy I’m just going to stick with you”

“What Sammy wants to say is he loves your idea he’s just not the best at conveying that”

“Sammy can you meow? You are a cat centaur thing after all”

“Oh I just like sitting up here Sam is cozy and the ground is ew”

“Pssh I don’t pick sides everyone needs help after all”

“Oh ok Sam you can protect me”

“Oh my the god teenage me crushed on….I’m gonna flirt with him….”

“Heyyyyy Demi you’re hot like hotter then my hands and I’m part blaze you could even hold my hands as proof”

“how did that work?”

“why do I have to pick a side this time? Ughhhh Sam we’re joining the Pogtopia side they’ll need more medical attention”

“Demi mind if I call you Dems?……YES”

“Pshhhhh Psshhhh Pssshhhhhhhh” <vocal stimming while thinking

“I’m starting to question the sanity of this nation….Like seriously I’m no therapist but I think everyone here needs a psychological assessment and a IQ test they are all IDIOTS most of the time”

“Oh shhhh it doesn’t hurt as bad as getting the injury idiot just calm down let me work”

“This was your STUPID plan??? I still gotta help”

“I’m sorry everyone….. he’s already gone”

“I need somewhere to stay Hydrangea can I stay here?”

“thank you Hydrangea”

“Well it’s time for me to leave…take care of yourself Hydrangea”

“what’s that sound? that voice?”

“I can’t let this take over no no no”

“SAM oh god I don’t have control over my voice!!”

“*evil giggling* Pssh Sam come here”

“OH FUCK MY ARM”

“SAM LET GO I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU”

“That was traumatic…..”

“I think I need to cut it a little higher so it’ll heal ehhh”

“I hate walking this much….please nothing cut my legs off because I complained about that…..”

“Oh yeah Muffins I can manage food”

“Wanna dance Sam?”

“You’ve a husk of your formal self as well you know Sam?”

“DEMI!!! wait I’m aware…STILL SHIT”

“Sam can you apologize for my arm? I think that was a little extra…”

“I accept your apology pshhh I love you Sam”

This character is replacing

Ponk

[radarsteddybear]

Whumptober Day 11 - You Scared Me

Fandom: Original Fiction (H.O.U.N.D.S.) Prompt(s): water inhalation, "Just hold on." Rating: Teen Additional Tags: whump, hurt/comfort, friendship, found family, spy-fi, drowning

“Cassandra!” Minnow screamed, but Cassandra didn’t have the time to process the desperation in her voice before she slammed into the water.

The world became blurry and dark.  Cassandra floated peacefully in the silence for…she wasn’t sure how long until she suddenly remembered that she had to breathe.  She flailed, desperately trying to find the surface.  Her lungs decided they couldn’t wait any longer, and she took a huge breath of water that sent her into a coughing fit, her body desperately seeking air.  She couldn’t tell up from down, let alone calm her spasming diaphragm enough to propel herself in any one direction.

The world began to fade away.  On one level, she knew she was in trouble, but a sense of calm settled over her all the same, and she simply didn’t care.

She wasn’t sure what happened next or how much time passed, but the next thing she knew, she was coughing and sputtering in the wonderful open air.  As she worked on filling her lungs with oxygen and expelling them of sea water, she slowly became aware of something rough underneath her palms.  Finally, her coughing slowed, and she lay her head down, her brain barely registering that same roughness underneath her cheek.  She lifted a limp hand to her face to pull away the hair plastered to her skin.  She tried to open her eyes, but there was still water in the way.  She gathered her strength, still trying to catch her breath, and brought her heavy hand back to her face to clumsily wipe it away.  The sun was too bright, though, even through her closed eyelids, so she soon gave up.

Cassandra began to notice a sound off in the distance.  “Cass!  Cass, just hold on!”  It was growing louder, closer.  It sounded familiar–awfully familiar–but she didn’t quite have the strength to place it.

All of a sudden, like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky, there was a presence hovering above her, and a familiar voice calling her name.

“Cass!  Cass, can you hear me?”

Cassandra groaned at the invasion of noise into her peaceful little world and rolled over onto her back, wincing as it made contact with the rock that was acting as her life raft.

“Yeah, I can hear you,” she said.  Her throat felt like sandpaper.  She cracked her eyes open to see Minnow’s worried face inches from her own.

Suddenly, Cassandra started coughing again.  She turned to the side just in time to avoid vomiting sea water all over herself.

When she was finished, Cassandra scrubbed a hand over her face.  She opened her eyes to find her hand smeared with pink, and she had a feeling that her face didn’t look much better.

Minnow slid forward so that Cassandra could lean on her.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

“You tell me,” Cassandra said.  She coughed some more.  “You know more about this kind of stuff than I do.”

Minnow did a quick examination–checked her heart, her breathing, her skin.  Cassandra noticed that her hands were shaking.

“I think you’ll be fine,” Minnow said.  “You’ll have to take a trip to Medical, though, to make sure.”

Cassandra buried her face in Minnow’s shoulder and groaned.

“We’ll have to get back ashore before we can worry about that,” Minnow said, pointedly ignoring her partner’s dramatics.  She looked around.  “Maybe I can find a log for you to float back on.”

“Are you sure you’re ok to do that?” Cassandra asked.

“Why not?  I’m not the one who nearly drowned–”

Wordlessly, Cassandra held up Minnow’s still-trembling hand.

“Right.  Yes.  Ok, you scared me,” Minnow said, blushing.  She pulled her hand away.  “I’ll be fine.”

Cassandra watched as Minnow waded into the water and swam to shore.  She quickly found the promised log, tested its buoyancy, and swam it back to Cassandra’s rocky island.

“This should do,” she said.  “Get on.”

Cassandra waded into the water and clung to the log while Minnow pulled it back to shore.  Cassandra wasn’t sure what she would have done if Minnow hadn’t been there.  She probably would have ended up spending the night on that rock in the middle of the bay.

“All right.  Let’s take a closer look at you,” Minnow said once they were on solid ground.  Now it was her turn to take her partner’s hand into her own, and Cassandra noticed for the first time that her palm was all scraped up.  Cassandra looked at her other hand to find it in much the same condition.  That would explain the pink smears from before.

Minnow pulled her first aid kit from the pocket of her jacket, which was laying in the sand dry as a bone.  Cassandra hadn’t noticed that she had taken it off.

It didn’t take Minnow long to clean and bandage both of Cassandra’s hands.  She checked Cassandra over but didn’t find any other wounds that warranted much attention–which was good, because she was quickly running out of gauze.  Then, she twisted the gem on her communicator ring to open the channel.

“This is Agent George reporting.”

“Agent George.  Go ahead,” came the familiar voice of the head of H.O.U.N.D.S. Northwest, Mr. Thaddeus.

“Agent Jacobson has suffered a code 12.  Should we continue the mission or abort?”

“A code 12, you say?  How is she?”

Minnow glanced over at her partner.  “Exhausted and in need of observation.”

“Is that all?”

“That’s all.”

“Then continue the mission.  Take the rest of the day to rest and then resume tomorrow.  Stick together, if you can.  If Miss Jacobson becomes poorly, check her into a local hospital.  I’ll make sure she pays a visit to Medical once you return.”

“Acknowledged.  Over and out.”

Minnow twisted the gem in her ring to close the channel.  “I guess it’s back to the hotel, then.”

Cassandra nodded.  “At least we already have a hotel this time.”

“Always looking on the bright side, I see.”

“Well, one of us has got to do it.”

Minnow pushed herself to her feet and pulled Cassandra to hers.  “Off we go?”

“Off we go.”

[malinka-nostalgia]

Juliette is on her way!

So here’s the story.

June 29. I’m 34 weeks, 1 day

In the afternoon I started feeling some cramping in my abdomen. Similar to period cramps. Also some fatigue. Felt like I just ran a mile. I went to bed way earlier than usual, like 9pm. Did not have a good night. Kept waking up to reposition and go to the bathroom cause I thought I had to pee due to cramps and increasing pressure on my bladder/pelvis. At the time I didn’t really know what contractions felt like, so I mayyy have had them but irregularly. I spent time going on Google/Reddit and typing in my symptoms to see if it’s normal. I saw a lot of people saying it looks like Braxton hicks. So I tried to call myself down that that’s what it is.

June 30. 34 weeks 2 days.

I did not feel better in the morning. If anything I might have felt worse. I though maybe my cramps are related to GI. I had some oatmeal and a cup of coffee. It was hard walking to the classes. Some people could tell I’m struggling and I let them know I may be in false labor. I shared my physical status in process group, so they are aware I may be in false labor and feeling like shit. I also cancelled my manicure apt with Edie, because I just had a bad feeling about what’s happening. Right after process group I went to the business office and got my sober link. My sweet roommate helped me with putting my stuff on a cart and wheeling it over to my car for my therapeutic weekend leave home. She looked really concerned for me since that morning.

My drive home was miserable and was getting worse by the minute it seems like. I may have started to realize what contractions are. My abdomen would tighten, hurt like a bitch, and relax after some time. But even after relaxing I still had baseline cramps which were pretty bad too. It got to the point that I started meaning out loud and breathing heavy. It was difficult to talk to Steve when he called and he grew really concerned and suggested I go straight to the hospital. I told him I wanna go home first and then call my clinic. After a miserable almost 2 hour drive home, I barely crawled out of my car and slowly climbed up to the second floor to our apartment with Steve’s arm around my shoulders for support. I went straight to the bathroom to pee and hope it would relieve some pressure. It barely did. I lied down with a heating pad, hoping it would provide some relief. But shortly after I had another big painful contraction. I called my clinic and they told me to go to labor and delivery triage. Steve drove me.

Got there a bit before 3pm. Based on my frequent, regular, and strong contractions it was determined I’m in premature labor. That scared me. I wanted to cry but I felt like if I did it would make the contractions even stronger. And they already hurt so bad. I was just about yelling every time I had one.

The doc who was great did a papa smear and strep B tests. He also said I’ll be gettin a medication to slow down the contractions. The triage nurse placed an IV. After 2 attempts. Then asked for help to get my labs done. Thank goodness. They also gave me a shot of steroid to help with Juju’s lungs. Shortly after I felt fluid gushing from inside of me. I verbalized somethings happening and that I don’t know if it’s pee or my water broke. The nurse looked and said my water broke. Change of plans. No need to slow down the labor anymore. Baby’s coming in the next 24 hours. The nurse warned me that the contractions will be even more painful now. Not sure if I needed to hear that.

I was transferred to the l&d unit. Changed out of my wet dirty dress into a how. The contractions continued to be horrible and frequent. About 30 mins later I finally got the epidural I was so ready for. The lidocaine hurt and burned real bad, but the actual epidural seemed like a piece of cake. Finally I started to calm down and feel so much better. I called my treatment program to let them know what’s happening. Got a call back later from my therapist and psychiatrist and they said to just focus on what’s happening and not worry about anything else and just keep them updated.

Steve went down to get some food. He was so hungry and mentally worn out. About an hour after the epidural the nurse came with her nursing student and they inserted a urinary catheter. Felt great bit to feel anything. Steve came back after that. Throughout the whole thing Steve had been so supportive.

My brain’s foggy now about everything. I remember later being checked for dilation and I was 3-4 cm. Progressing fast. They weren’t gonna check me again for a while because they didn’t want to risk introducing infection. But they told me to notify if I feel increasing pressure or feeling like I’m bout to poop.

Epidural worked amazing. I could no longer feel the contractions. At times I’d feel them a bit on my right side of abdomen but it wasn’t intense. Basically i had to spend more of my time on my right side because the gravity pulls the medication down like that. Steve pushed the couch closer to my bed so it felt like we were sleeping side by side.

Sergey came by that night to get our apartment key so he could feed Prince on his way to get my dad from the airport. He also dropped off some food for Steve. Shortly after my mom, Alyona, and Darina came by to visit and drop off some food from Renata as well as a care package from her with baby clothes, wipes, pads for me, snacks, nipple pads, and some meds to take home. I felt so spoiled.

Anyway, halfway through writing this the morning I actually ended up delivering it I’ll write that out on another post. This was my overwhelmingly crazy Friday that was also full of so many blessings.

[megwritesnstuff]

I know I don’t have a lot of mutuals and stuff but this is my blog and I can post whatever I want and I need to. Talk about some stuff.

On the night of the 17th my little brother in law was involved in a really horrific, traumatic accident while on vacation. He was invited, along with their other roomie, by one of his roomates’ family to join them on their vacation to West Virginia. They own property up there and it was meant as good wholesome fun. Go relax in the mountains, ride some four wheelers, have a few beers, whatever. All three of the roommates are in trade school learning welding but they’re on summer break right now and, my little BiL specifically had been saving up to go on a trip anyway because theres been a lot of other stressful stuff going on in his/my partners family lately and so he decided to go.

But, while no one is exactly sure what happened, there was an accident and my lil BiL had to be airlifted to the nearest hospital. Basically, they were at a place that is for mountain bikes (I guess? idk much about this sort of stuff) riding the ATVs. There were some trees blocking sight of a bend in the track so no one who was at the scene saw what happened, but my BiL went around the track and just... never came back. A few minutes pass and his buddies are like. “Wow whats taking him so long? Lets go check” and they found him just

nearly dead. The four wheeler was on top of him and he was face down in the dirt. Aparently an animal ran out in the track or SOMETHING happened, and it ended up rolling end over end so he broke the fall all with his face and neck. They of course called emergency services and his parents, but because it was later at night his parents were already asleep and didnt answer/ So they called his brother AKA my partner. It showed up as an unknown number so we nearly didnt answer as well but thank GODS we did. We drove out as fast as we could, a four and some change hour drive, to be with him. I’m only family by marriage, not immediate, so I wasn’t allowed to go in to see him but from what my husband said he was... messed up really good.

He has twelve seperate skull fractures, broken jaw, multiple severe lacerations as well as an internal brain bleed and massive swelling. He had to have transfusions as well as a 12 hour, multiple surgeon team operation to insert titanium plates and screws and basically just. Reconstruct his face/head. Honestly, its a miracle he’s even alive. He even had a bone fragment get lodged in his brain that had to be removed. The situation is. BAD.

Or, well. It was. Thankfully he made it through surgery and the brain bleed stopped. Because of the massive bleed initially though, a lot of blood rdrained into his stomach and lungs so they inserted tubes to drain it out. He also had to be intubated to help him breathe, and he has a feeding tube since they had to wire his jaw shut for the time being so those titanium plates dont get shifted bu the movent (as well to stabalize his broken jaw). They had been keeping him sedated until today because every time he started to come to, he would try to rip out the tubes and fight off the medical staff. They weren’t sure if he was just in shock or what, but either way, without the breathing and feeding tube he would die so. Yeah.

Thankfully this morning, he started to come to but they were able to calm him down so that they could tell him what happened and get him to do some cognitive tests. He was able to wiggle his fingrs and toes according to the doctors prompting, so we know he can still hear. Also he isn’t paralyzed, which is obviously great. He’s still in a very delicate state and they’re keeping him in ICU, but it seems like he’s going to pull through. 

I am so, so grateful to the medical staff, the Gods, his friends for their swift response when they realized he hadn’t come back. All of it. I am honestly so happy he is alive.

But the weird thing about emergency scenarios, is that. It doesn’t really hit you until a few days later, you know? Like the whole time when my husband and I were on our way to West Virginia, the night we spent up there with their parents waiting to see if he was gonna basically live or die. I was so scarily calm. I am a very anxious person by nature, who was abused by my parents and even ten years later gets very easily triggered by certain things, has panic attacks, falls into depressive episodes, goes to therapy and takes medication... ect. It was. UNNATURAL. How calm and rational I was during the whole ordeal. I had to be there for my In-laws, my husband. I needed to be a rock for them because at that moment, it wasn’t about my feelings. Like, yes. I love my brother in law as if he was my blood brother. I am adopted and have no real connection with my biological siblings or my much older adopted brother. We didnt grow up together, and in the case of my adopted brother, he was so much older than me that he was already moved out of home by the time I came into my adoptive parents care. So, we barely know each other at all.

When I got married to my partner, and met his little brother, it was just like. I had a sibling for the first time ever. We got on great, had a lot in common, and arent that far apart in age. So he really became like family to me. So, yes. Of COURSE I was devastated when we heard the news. But I knew that for as much as I love him, my partner and his parents love him even more. They have known him his whole life. They have watched him grow. Thats- Thats their KID. Thats their little brother that they’ve stood up for and protected their whole LIFE. So, somehow in my brain, it was like an override switch. I was able to be there for them, let them cry on me, run the phone lines to make sure the rest of the family was aprised of the situation and didnt bother my FiL, MiL, and husband while they were trying to be there for him and... and basically say their final words to him, if he didnt make it through the night and his operation.

But now that we’re home, and we know Diego is gonna be okay, and he’s on the up and up with the start of his recovery its like. REALLY hitting me.

I’m so exhausted. I’m so panicked and jittery and upset as if it was still saturday night. Like, LOGICALLY i know now that he is fine. Time has passed and he is already showing signs that he’s gonna be able to pull through this just fine, even if it takes a while. But emotionally I cant get it out of my head

Diego has been in an accident. Diego might die. Diego might not ever be able to walk or eat or talk or do anything beside be in a vegatative state ever again. Oh my gods, please. Please let him be okay. Please let him be okay. PLEASE---

And its like. Not “dumb” but for lack of a better word, its dumb to be having this response NOW because. He’s okay! He can hear us! He can wiggle his toes! He can move his arms enough to be able to try to yank an IV out! He made it through surgery, and, even if he might not look exactly the same because of the facial reconstruction process, he’s alive and he’s going to be able to be moved to a hospital in NC in a few weeks so we can visit him! He’s pulling through!

So why do I still feel so terrified as if his life is still hanging in the balance, driving through the mountains of Appalachia in the middle of the night?

[kywaslost]

Bakugou Dating a Nerd

A/N: Hey guys! I’m going to try and get some writing done every now and then, but I’m not sure how often I’ll be posting for a while. Thanks for the cooperation so far though.

In this fic, reader is Aizawa and Hizashi’s adopted daughter who goes to UA but takes classes at her old high school. Idk, it’s just something I thought of during my Medical Intervention class.

“Red, red, green, black, blue, green, blue, red…”

“What is she muttering?” Denki asked from his seat at the counter in the kitchen, leaning over to Kirishima. The two were staring at you, eyebrows raised. As they watched you work. You were sitting at one of the study tables, working on something unknown to the two boys.

Kirishima and Denki made their way over to Bakugou, who was sitting across from you. He looked unfazed by your constant muttering. “Hey Bakubro,” Kirishima whispered so as not to interrupt you. “What’s she doing?”

“Some nerd thing,” he muttered. “For one of her science classes.”

“Red, green, blue, blue, blue, black, red, red, green. Umm, then, A, A, T, G, G, C, A, T…” you suddenly switched from colors to letters, tossing down your different colored pens and then a pencil, scribbling down on a piece of paper.

“Hey Y/N,” Denki said, catching your attention. You hummed in question, still muttering letters under your breath. “Whatcha’ doing?”

“Hold on,” you commented, muttering again before looking up and tapping your pencil on the desk. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” Kirishima repeated with a smile. “You keep muttering colors and letters and stuff.”

You smiled widely, and Bakugou noticed how your posture changed with how excited you were. It caused him to smile slightly. He watched your interaction with his friends. “I’m not actually sure what it is called,” you began. “I want to say it’s just DNA sequencing, but I’m not too sure.” You lifted up a graph that looked similar to an EKG or heart monitor. There were multi-colored scribbles across the large piece of paper. “Each color represents a different nucleotide. And so I have to read this graph thing, and then figure out what nucleotide each number corresponds with.”

You placed the big paper back down on the table in front of you and then picked up another paper. “I color coded this table so each number has the same color as it does on the graph so I can better read what number has what nucleotide. And then tomorrow I get to type all of this into a computer and something cool is supposed to happen. I don’t remember though, I wasn’t really listening.”

You lost Kirishima and Denki at the beginning of your explanation, but Bakugou just stared at you. He loved when you started rambling on and on about your science assignments, or just random facts. Before anyone could say anything, you began rambling again, but more to yourself. “I love genetics. It’s so satisfying doing RNA and DNA stuff, and then testing things like blood. Oh! And the Kastle-Meyer test! I love that kinda stuff. And punnett squares. I love those, too.”

Kirishima and Denki chuckled. “That’s so cool! What class is this for?” Denki asked. “Cause I’d never be able to do what you’re doing.”

“It’s for my Medical Intervention class,” you answered. “We’re looking at the DNA to see if there’s any diseases we can identify.” You began scribbling down on the paper again, muttering letters to yourself.

Kirishima and Denki turned back to Bakugou. He was staring at you, smiling softly. It was very rare to catch him this calm. “You’re girlfriend’s a nerd,” Denki whispered.

“I know,” Katsuki smiled. “But she’s my nerd, and I love it. She goes on and on about what she’s learning all the time, or how she doesn’t understand something. And she trips over her words sometimes and says them wrong, but continues to say them wrong because she just can’t pronounce them.”

“You’re in love, man,” Kirishima smiled, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. “You better keep her.”

Katsuki swatted Kiri’s hand away, scowling suddenly. “I’m not letting my girlfriend do your homework for you. Now get lost!” Kirishima and Denki laughed as they walked away, not missing the loving glance Bakugou gave you before returning to his own homework.

[copperbadge]

storieswritteninthesand

Fwiw, you’ve mentioned those calming mental effects a couple times now, and they sound a lot like the impact anxiety meds had for me - releasing some of the anxiety mental load to make life more approachable. (Sorry if we’re still pretending that part of the diagnosis doesn’t exist!)

Well, not so much pretending it doesn’t exist, although I know I push back on it pretty hard. Part of it is that I still have no documentation regarding it -- last I heard the doctor who was meant to do the writeup said “I’ll have it for you this evening” and then nothing. I replied to her a few days later stating I’d still very much like it and nothing since, either. I’m trying to determine now if I should bother emailing again, if I should get insurance involved, or if I should just let it go. For what it’s worth, the psychiatrist gave me an anxiety screening that I actually scored quite low on, but of course he didn’t spend three hours in a room with me. 

So a few more thoughts behind the cut...

I did spend a lot of time thinking about it after I realized the Adderall was calming me, because there is a shift in mood and an accompanying physical reaction. I think...the problem may be that we use the word anxiety in two different ways in terms of actual mental health (instead of like, “I’m passingly anxious about this date” or whatnot).

There’s Generalized Anxiety Disorder, which is very specific and has a list of DSM criteria that you have to fit. Every time I go back to that criteria, I go “No, this isn’t me.” I simply don’t have enough symptoms. That’s me saying it myself, but I feel pretty confident about it, and the change when the medication kicks in doesn’t cause the kind of shift you’d see if those symptoms were alleviated. 

While ADHD medication can affect anxiety, I think it’s also important to note that I’m taking a stimulant, and anti-anxiety/depressant medications are not generally stimulants but SSRI/SNRIs and benzodiazepines. From my reading, granting I’m not a doctor, what I’m getting with the medication is dopamine, not serotonin. Dopamine and serotonin are both neurotransmitters but they’re transmitting different things, and if my dopamine balancing is what’s making me feel calmer, then it’s likely that Anxiety in the clinical sense is not what I was dealing with. 

But there’s a second usage of the word anxiety, a more casual one, that seems to encompass a lot of shit we really don’t have a good name for. Our vocabulary when it comes to negative emotion is limited, at least in English, and I suspect we don’t seek the nuanced language to discuss it because it’s scary and upsetting. So “anxiety” is possibly getting applied to a lot of stuff that I am in fact feeling but that I didn’t identify as anxiety, that is clinically not identified as GAD, and I was objecting because I hadn’t encountered that form of definition for it before. 

It’s unclear how I signaled anxiety to the evaluator, or what the word encompasses in my case. Could be stress from carrying an extra cognitive load, depression linked to exhaustion, lower-case-a anxiety because I couldn’t put my thoughts in order and so they felt overwhelming. Maybe even just worry I couldn’t get everything done because time blindness meant I could never tell if I had enough time to accomplish all my tasks. Being able to order my thoughts and execute tasks with more ease would indeed alleviate all of that.   

And also, you know...this sounds terrible to say but they gave me an IQ test and while they didn’t give me a number they did tell me I scored extremely high. That doesn’t signify much in the real world, but outlier scores like mine can mean we don’t react in expected ways to testing. It’s possible I just fucked the evaluation because I’m a weirdo. It’s one likely reason, my psychiatrist said, that I wasn’t diagnosed before now: my high cognitive scores were pulling my extremely low executive function scores up into normal range. 

So...I still push back on the idea of a GAD diagnosis, but I’m willing to entertain the idea that whatever is going on in my brain is something that people might realistically refer to as anxiety. And in that sense the Adderall is helping, so I suppose overall it’s a net positive :D 

[introverted-scribblings]

Hiii friend! I have another request! So I'm in a lot of pain right now due to my period.....=_= and I was wondering if I could have Hc's about Tim, Ej, and Jeff's s/o on their period with bad cramps? Because I'm dying right now.....but thank you for your amazing writing! ❤

Oh no!! My friend!! I'm so sorry, period pains suuuuuck! I hope this will make you smile a little! Remember to drink lots of water!!

Tim/Masky:

Oh, honey. This man would be at your every beck and call.

He feels so bad that you’re in so much pain. Mainly because he can’t make it just… go away.

He hates seeing you so uncomfortable, so he’ll do everything in his power to make things easier for you.

Whatever you want. Just say the word and it’s yours.

More pillows? Done. Heating pad? Already handing it to you. Something to drink? Here’s a glass of water and a mug of tea, made just the way you like it.

You’re craving a weird food? Name it and he’ll bring it to you, no questions asked.

HE PASSES THE BOYFRIEND TEST! You need pads and/or tampons? He’ll get them for you.

He’s not embarrassed in the slightest, either. He knows it’s natural and as long as you tell him what to pick up, he won’t have any problems. If anything, he’s too stoic about it which makes other people uncomfortable.

When it comes to cramps he actually does a fair amount of research, making sure he’s informed enough to actually help you. Finding home remedies to help ease the pain such as certain teas, avoiding too much salt, convincing you to try yoga, etc.

He’s always a little iffy on medication, not wanting you to go through what he has to go through. But if you insist, he’ll pick up some over-the-counter stuff for you.

But sometimes… You just want him to hold you. And he’s more than willing to do that for you.

He’ll let you curl up in his arms and cry if you need to. He’ll massage the area if you think it’ll help. All while telling you that he loves you and that he’ll always be there for you.

Overall, 10/10 boyfriend when it comes to caring for you.

Jeff:

This boy definitely used to make the “What? Are you on your period?” comments.

Keywords being “used to”...

The first time he made that comment to you when you were suffering the wrath of your uterus, you smacked him. Straight up.

After a screaming lecture from you, he stopped making those comments.

He has no idea how to help you. It feels like whatever he does is wrong, but it’s only because your hormones are making emotions run wild.

You’ll have to direct him practically every step of the way. I hope you don’t mind repeating yourself.

He’ll start to figure it out though, and once he does he won’t grumble nearly as much as he used to when it comes to your orders.

He’ll throw on a mask and get you pads if you need them, though he’d prefer not to. For several reasons, a big one being that he’s a wanted killer.

After his first experience with your menstrual cycle, he’d actually get better about it. He knows what to expect when it comes around again and is more prepared for it.

If you ask, he’ll hold you when the cramps get really painful.

He won’t say it out loud, but he feels really bad that you have to go through this.

He’ll hold you in his lap, arms wrapped around your middle as he throws on a movie or something in an attempt to distract you from the pain.

He’s not the best at this, but he’s learning! He’ll just need your guidance to get things right.

Eyeless Jack:

This man knew your period was coming before you did.

He knows your patterns down to a T, so when you start acting even slightly differently, he notices.

And seriously, with his sense of smell? He could tell what was going on based purely on your scent.

He’d be so sweet about it, too. Gently reminding you that it was coming up and you should be prepared.

Reminding you to pick up anything you may need in the upcoming days.

Once it actually hits, he makes sure he’s very careful with you. He doesn’t want the demon in him to hurt or take advantage of you.

So honestly, at least at first, he would distance himself from you. Just to make sure he wouldn’t lose control and do something he’d regret.

However, with your pleading, he would step up and be the best support you could ask for.

Medically? He has you covered. He knows what to expect, what signs to look for, what could be a problem, etc. And anything he didn’t know, he’d look up.

That and his more calm demeanor makes him perfect to have around when you’re struggling. As he knows all the tricks to help you feel at least a little bit better.

And when you ask, he’ll absolutely hold you. He’d be a little hesitant (again, wants to make sure he won’t hurt you) but wouldn’t be able to say no for long.

Man is a fucking giant, and would just cradle you in his arms as you curl up with him.

Ask him to read to you, it’s incredibly soothing.

He cares about you so much and doesn’t want to see you suffer, so he’ll do his damnedest to make sure you’re okay!

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: When they accidentally kill you

Requested by: okokok121 + @RitaRoseFromBBB

Main Masterlist | SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Rules | Request | Socials | My Original Post

(Ok, I know you did ask for the doctors + Mikell and Strelnikov, but I've decided to add the SCPs in here if that's alright with you. And also, sorry if I didn't capture Strelnikov's attitude well as I'm not as familiar with him compared to Mikell, yet again I'm not familiar with Jack Bright's family other than TJ and 321)

Sorry if it wasn't up to your standards. I just felt that some of these characters weren't the type to kill the reader, even if it wasn't intentional.

WARNING: Slight Angst

Dr Simon Glass

Simon wouldn't be the one to accidentally kill you himself, but it's more of the situation he put you in without realising the full extent of the consequences. He was just busy writing his patients' reports, and you just strolled in his office to check upon him. Simon stopped what he was doing and smiled with you as you both ate your food in his ever so clean office. As you were about to leave, Glass requested you to deliver something to Jack Bright in which you did. You and Jack were close friends (not so surprising since you're both equally as mad as each other) so if Simon wanted to know where he is or if he needed to give him something, he would go to you first. You managed to deliver the parcel to Bright in 682's containment cell and you both laughed before you returned. Unfortunately, 682 was having a rough day due to being a subject to Bright's test (I would be too tbh) which caused him to become more aggressive than usual and attacked 3 researchers. One of them being you as 682 dragged you down to the acid bath with him and Jack rushed to save you. Bright wasn't able to and he had to fulfil;l his duty to tell Simon Glass that you passed as 682 had killed you during a test. Needless to say, Glass was forced to take time off with Bright due to this event and he became more distant for months to come. Bright had to keep it together just so Simon wouldn't have to lose the shred of sanity he had in him.

Dr Jack Bright

You and Bright were doing some tests on one of the more dangerous SCPs (no, it's not that giant mf lizard of that warrior killing machine) in which your job was to handle these creatures while Jack was doing all the lab stuff. The SCP you both were conducting your research on was ●●|●●●●●|●●|● (SCP 2521 - We're getting ripped tonight, RIP my friends) and you were doing all sorts of things which resulted in you summoning this creature out of the blue by accident. Bright had to drag you out away from the creature and you just stood there observing its behaviour until it noticed you. Jack Bright had to take you on the run yet again (cuz you do be stoopid and stubborn so all yall wanna do is stare at something that's gonna kill ya. JUST RUN BIATCH!!!) but the SCP managed to catch up with you both and snatched you before Bright could even get help. Jack was astonished and deeply depressed since the incident and was left increasingly agitated after every walking day and even Glass couldn't get him out of his shell. He would pretend that everything's fine, but deep down, everyone knows that he's not (that's a whole ass mood right there buddy). Bright was extremely guilty for making you research 2521 and tried to summon it again, but all other scientists stopped it.

Dr Alto Clef

Clef was just doing his job, managing all the Keter class SCPs with ease and without hesitation. You know this from first-hand experience on your very first day on the job 3 years ago and Clef took an interest in you so he took you under his wing. So on this mission, he's on, he wanted to take you with him so you went along (not like you'd say no to this madman anyways right?). It was a breach on one of the sites with a sh- ton of Keter class SCPs and your jobs were to exterminate/neutralise them and save all the other researchers in which your team did do well and were still alive. You on the other hand were killed in action by SCP 939 (NOW WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS RELEASED MY PETS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION?!). Clef wasn't able to save you on time, but he managed to kill 2 of those SCPs. When he got back, he hid in his office and was depressed for 23.3 weeks and when he managed to drag himself out, he was bawling his eyes out. He deeply regretted taking you on a mission with him and swore an oath that if he were to ever take another person under his wing (probs in like 50 years), he would do anything in his power to not take them on a life-threatening mission.

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

You were out with Kondraki, just laying on the grass like you normally do as you just watched Kondraki take photographs of various and random stuff. Not long later, you asked him if he could teach you how to become such an avid photographer like him, so he did. However, little did you and Kondraki know that his butterfly friends felt danger lurking around the area you were in and quickly transformed into a threatening SCP to defend you both. Lurking around the woods were uncontained 939s running loose on the ground in which the booterflies attacked it. One of the red lizards was ready to pounce onto Kondraki to which you ran and pushed him out of the way (BAD DOGGO ))),:<). Luckily he was unharmed, but you, on the other hand, was heavily injured so Kondraki rushed you back to the foundation's medic. You died there shortly after and Kondraki blamed himself for getting you hurt on a harmless visit to the woods for some photographs. Bright and Clef begged Glass to do some psychological evaluation on Kondraki despite him telling them that he needs some time alone before he could do such things.

O5 Council Mikell Bright

When you're with Mikell, he would be his true self, being honest and relaxed since you're his most trusted partner. Moreover, he would tell you everything about what the O5 Council has been doing and their top secrets and you would always keep your lips sealed. The other members are wary of this at first but soon warm up to you since you're one of the most trusted individuals. Being with the cowboy is quite entertaining and you'll be quite protected being with him, so most of the time, you get free reign over the foundation, however, you still had to obey the rules as you weren't exactly a member of the O5 council and that would also help you from making people think you're sus for being treated so differently. That day was one of the days where your freedom got the better of you as you were on a mission with Mikell and he was about to aim at the target until you pushed him out of the way from danger. He quickly gained his composure and tried to shoot the anomaly behind you which he missed and shot you instead. Mikell was in shock and tried to get the medics, but by the time they arrived, you've already passed. Jack had to check up on his brother regularly to see how he's doing and to make sure he doesn't fall off the edge, reminding him that you wouldn't want to see him this way.

Agent Dmitri Arkadeyevich Strelnikov

As an agent, Strelnikov's life and his closest friends and relatives would be on the line. He wouldn't know when, where or how he would die and is in constant fear of losing everyone around him, especially you. One time, he took you on a mission with him since you were trained under him and he felt that you were ready to go onto your first-ever mission (well too bad, it's your last mission since y'all just suck at your jobs and this poor man has to drag you up from hell and y'all just fall back in) and so you guys went and attempted to gain information and track down some SCPs. Dmitri had to save you a few times since you didn't heed his advice and looked behind your back and that one time he left you on your own, you were murdered by a ruthless group from one of the GOIs. This, of course, deeply saddened agent Strelnikov as he was washed away by the guilt he had from leaving you to stand by your own 2 feet. You were a bright and gentle person who always looked up to him, always eager to learn and never want to fail him. These traits are what drew you to him and he was hoping to have you on his team permanently, however, that dream was long gone (just like your non-existent brain cells trying to keep your life together so y'all don't do stupid things) as you were snatched away from him in an instant. He wrote the report once he went back to the foundation and locked himself up for so long the doctors had to get him out (like your guardians whenever you don't wake up in the mornings).

Extras:

SCP 073 (Cain)

You and Cain were strolling around site 17 until a containment breach happened. Cain had to drag you by your arm since you froze (like a deer in headlights XD) and didn't react to anything since you were afraid. Luckily you did manage to get your senses back together and ran with him. Not long later, a Keter class SCP came charging at you and in a panic, Cain pushed you aside without a glance which caused another SCP to kill you since you were blocking the way. He looked over to you to see that you were wounded, lifted you up, and found a medic. Cain blamed himself for not looking carefully and had he done that, you wouldn't be dying. By the time the medic and you both arrived, you were already at the brink of death and when 343 finally arrived, you were long gone. 343 had to calm 073 down from trying to seek revenge once again but he can't due to the overwhelming guilt he had on him. 343 managed to ease his mind a bit which caused him to blackout. The researchers had to put him under their watchlist to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid (like you when you're studying for your important exams).

SCP 076 (Abel)

It was a normal day for you and Abel to hang around until this one mf guard angered Abel to which caused a containment breach. He went on a rampage (you do be here like Hercules! Hercules! XD) in which you had to try and calm him down. By the time you went to the main part of the facility, you saw many of the D-classes and researchers beheaded (like the previous queens in- never mind). When you had found Abel attempting to slaughter a guy, you jumped in front of the victim and by the time Abel realised that you were there, his sword cut you open in half (KO! 10 points to Gryffindor). He was overwhelmed with guilt and anxiety about him killing you by accident and returned to his box as demanded by the MTF members. The scientists noticed a change in Abel's behaviour and never questioned it. Those who knew what had happened never mentioned it in fear of another breach and left him be.

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

It was an ideal Saturday night at the foundation. You and our adorable 999 was wandering around the facility minding your own business until some madman came charging into the foundation. The alarm for the breach went on and everyone was confused since there weren't any dangerous SCPs on the loose. As it turns out, it was an intruder from one of the other GOIs trying to kidnap some of the SCPs. You and 999 just so happened to be in the exact same spot as the intruder and was holding a weapon of some sort. Realising what's happening, 999 pushed you out of the way just as the intruder fired her weapon which missed you both. One of the agents caught up with both of you and tried to shoot the intruder but ended up shooting you just as you got up which killed you. 999 never greeted any visitors in his cell ever again for quite some time and the researchers attempted to bribe him but failed.

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

You were requested to take part in a test with 682 and another Keter class SCP in a test room and your job was to make sure 682 weren't allowed to lash out at the researchers because of this test. However, this certain Keter class SCP has decided that it wants to attack you in which 682 shoved you aside to protect you. The researchers ran in to save you but the other SCP managed to pounce on you and suffocated you to the brink of death. 682 was about to take a chonki bite out of that SCP but instead, he bit you instead, killing you instantly. He regretted every decision he has ever made and never attacked the foundation staff for months.

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

This doctor was just minding his own business until some dumbass researchers rushed into his room like some fanboys trying to get their noona's signatures. 049 was entertained by this remark but was soon agitated as they disturbed his work and wouldn't leave him alone. So, 049 used his lethal touch on some of the researchers as the rest ran. Luckily, they ran into you, so you managed to calm down the angri bird doctor. Unfortunately, that didn't go as planned as he had mistaken you as one of the other fanboys and stabbed you right into your heart. As soon as he had realised what he's done, he rushed you into his cell and performed surgery on you. Mid-surgery, he soon realised that you were losing too much blood and died right then and there. He mourned for quite some time as the other researchers were severely punished as it had led to your death which could've been avoided.

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Like the other SCPs mentioned in the list, there was a test that resulted in your death. 035 was instructed to change to another human as the black goo was secreted from the mask and so he obeyed as you were slouching by the corner of the test room. Except for this time, it is being worn by a taller and more muscular man who was a wanted man due to his former job as a mercenary. As the researchers watched intently, the mask soon felt slightly overpowered but was resolved quickly due to his evergrowing abilities and experience in possessing those who come near it or is wearing the mask. The mask spoke of the discomfort of being overpowered to which the researchers took note of this statement and watched. You were somewhat concerned to you went closer to your beloved partner to check up on him. However, upon coming closer to 035, he switched his usual persona to the man wearing it, becoming more aggressive and unable to control this body, killing the first person he sees, which was you. This stunned the researchers as the guards tried to pry him off you. When they managed to get him off, you were no longer breathing. In the next interview with 035, he displayed extreme guilt and sadness of his inability to possess the man well enough to control him fully and made a request for him to be left alone for a while.

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

You both met up during the breach a few steps away from 096's cell. He was wandering around to find you while covering his elongated face. All the other researchers were outside trying their best to stay calm and deal with this massive breach until they just saw 096 walking about looking for someone. It instantly clicked in their mind and offered to look for you as long as he goes back to his cell afterwards to which he agreed. Upon finding you, another SCP was attempting to attack you but was soon neutralised by the other MTFs. 096 managed to push you away beforehand but his throw was so strong that you died on the impact when you fell to the ground (you really did get yeeted lmao). As 096 and the others ran towards you to make sure you were ok, you had stopped breathing and 096 screamed in sadness which flooded the whole field. As he was contained back to his cell, they noticed a small detail about 096 which was him wailing every now and again about your death.

SCP 105 (Iris)

You and Iris were just strolling down site 17 to meet with Cain and Dr James Dantensen. Once you've arrived at the agreed location within site 17, you guys were just catching up with old times and sharing your memories and stories about your everyday lives. However, this jolly moment only lasted for so long as someone had breached the containment to target you as you were close to a lot of the SCPs, especially the humanoid ones. As you, along with the others, ran to safety, the enemy caught up with you and threatened you for your knowledge of the SCPs. Iris finally caught up with you just in time to see the commotion and shoved you out of the way. Cain managed to shield you from another guy who attempted to shoot you in which Iris retaliates by throwing a knife back, but instead, injured you instead. She ran over and screamed as you slowly blacked out. Cain had to carry you over as Dantensen was calling the medics and you barely managed to survive. During your days in the hospital, the suspect managed to suffocate you which alarmed everyone. During the days that followed, Iris had been seeking out revenge as Cain tried to make her stay calm and think more rationally.

SCP 106 (Old Man)

It was another day spending some time in 106's pocket dimension as you relaxed with him. You both talked about your past experiences and the obstacles you both had overcome. Once you both were done relaxing (aka never you lazy catto so get up and do something useful for once cuz I don't wanna see yall get screamed at by your family and non-existent friends (jk jk i hope they're treating you well)), 106 took you back to his containment cell and just sat there as the researchers looked at you both blankly. 096 caused a containment breach which, of course, freed you both from 106's cell and you made a run for it (RUN FOREST RUN!). As you and 096 came into contact, 106 tried to put himself between the both of you, knowing what 096 was capable of. Unfortunately, this resulted in 106 being attacked and you died from looking at his face (wear a damn mask 096, you're in the middle of a pandemic). Saddened by the news, 106 seek revenge but was briefly neutralised and shipped to another facility so it wouldn't cause another breach due to his rage.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either… 

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon… 

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash. 

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops. 

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬