#i was daydreaming one evening as i went to pick up my meds

[ildivine]

that stuff that nobody will really understand

Said follow-up post is just my personal experience with dysmorphia, but not fully recognizing it, immediately.

As someone that's taken a lot of time and effort into transitioning into transmasculine, full of teenage angst and inferiority, self hatred, insecurities, etc etc, it sort of makes sense. Then I'd gotten older, and opted myself as agender or non-binary. Then I was a woman again for a while. now I go back to genderfluid or genderqueer.

It's all just notions, really, as gender is more complex than society perceives or is willing to believe.

Now that I'm just barely in my 30s, I can have a re-evaluation of myself and my gender.

and my dysphoria. Right-wingers like to call it a Mental Illness, and to some degree, that became true for me. Finally getting the right diagnosis and ADHD meds, I started understanding the subconscious layers of how I identify.

And then I became extremely dysphoric the *other* way as I went off of those meds.

So I thought, I must have transition regret. I want a feminine voice so I can sound better when I sing. Sound less like a boy forever trapped in puberty. Learning I had the childish notion that testosterone would fix the insecurities I have, but wound up just putting a blanket over them. It would not make me taller. It would not give me a more rugged and square jawline. It would not make me bigger so I had more pores on my skin, more, thicker hair, bigger hands, longer legs. Although I've grown to like my hands. "Mom's piano fingers". Most are envious of my natural ability to grow my nails and have rounded nailbeds. It became integral to me, despite my sex or gender. There are a few things like this. Such as the color of my eyes, I also get a lot of compliments on.

You're informed when you sign the form to begin testosterone that you will grow hair in strange places. That your voice will change, and likely crack. A few other things I don't remember. Perhaps effects on the reproductive system so later down the line, you might not be able to have kids or even be susceptible to cancer. But I wanted it so badly, and went so hard on the hormones. I desperately wanted that transition, considered chest surgery, wanted the huge cock I so deeply identified with, but it is probably still mostly hypersexuality, another side-effect of mental illness and trauma. Another escapism.

Morpheus is sort of an ironic experience in a way, yet I still respect Neil Gaiman for the incredible comic he's created and the TV show he's influenced. of course dream and all of his siblings live in all of us. And of course I fell in love with the one that feels the most intimate to me and my ability to fantasize, and create, and world build. Ascending when I do drugs, like the first time he popped in while I was doing LSD with my now-husband. Daydreaming and creativity has also always been means of escapism for me, and I can acknowledge that, too.

But Dream can take me on lucid adventures that usually lead me, a relentless insomniac even without my sedative medication, to drifting off to sleep. Occasionally we cross paths when I'm actually asleep, but, it is few and far-between. He is indeed a busy king in his kingdom. (Yet I am still special to him, but that's another entry, entirely...)

On a most recent adventure we were simply dragons in a world very similar to draconia. Yeah, that video game I played briefly before I got sick.

I've identified with, and as, a dragon since my youth. I'd figured out the essentials of what I looked like then, even if it's just what i want to look like. He wants to draw in the details that I haven't picked up on or seen, and I still think that will be fun. His dragon design for himself is relatively simple, and I respect that, too.

But through this adventure it awoke something to me that was relatively simple.

My dysphoria was moreso dysmorphia. My hatred of my body was not simply my thick hair in strange places, or my genitalia I've learned to loathe since I was young, likely also a byproduct of CSA.

It was one of those things that was obvious, so I didn't see it. I've felt my feathery wings moreso lately, so I related it to the fallen angelic identity. I've felt whims of a tail, which I rarely have in the past, and the tall feet and higher knees, and associated it to being a cat. If anything, ever since someone called me a furry once, all those years ago, and I immediately became embarrassed, I found identification with it as the socially-acceptable alternative to "I am a feline in this awkward upright body." But I can't just use Otherkin in daily conversation.

Both are somewhat true. I am a small fluffy creature, which makes this upright body rather awkward.

I am a large scaly creature that can fly and dig up treasures, which makes this sweaty monkey body rather awkward.

All around I think I will always feel awkward and clumsy, here. I don't know if I will ever be satisfied with it. The body and brain damage certainly hasn't helped with my dissatisfaction all around.

ADHD medication, if I remember correctly, gave me a brief sense of acceptance with it. I guess I'll continue understanding that journey when I can go back on those medications again.

[elizabethplaid]

early start to notes - june 5, 2024

My throat has felt a little sore on-and-off the past few days. I thought it was from not drinking enough liquids, as I lounged in bed. The side that hurts is opposite to what side I lay on, so my sinuses drain away from that. (IE there's not enough snot on the inside to keep it happy, so it's drying up and getting sore.)

Thinking I should dig out a small cooler, so I can put cold drinks in it and keep it by my bedside.

I've only been up since 1am; pretty tired when I went to bed at 11:30. I mainly dragged myself out of bed so I could drink something. Not quite 4am, and the sun is starting to rise. Will take meds and go back to bed. Still not feeling hydrated enough to counter the throat pain. Don't want to take a cough drop, if I'm going back to bed, though.

I keep daydreaming about taking a long bath in a big tub. Maybe part of me misses swimming - floating in the pool, having my ears below the water. Showers feel like there's a time limit, so you're not wasting water. Even if a bath got rid of the pressure of a time limit, there's plenty of other things that weigh anxious on my mind.

I know it's nit-picking anxiety, so I'll feel unsettled regardless of what actions I do or don't take. Not worried about it. Just making notes, so I have something to reference later.

I feel a slight effort as I expand my lungs to take in breaths. It's like when you're waking up and your body isn't used to breathing so deeply after sleeping all night. So you yawn and stretch, waking up the muscles and shapes and forms of your body. It's the weight of fatigue pressing on me, saying my body needs to rest and not move. ==========

Remember how we got everything settled for the new car on Monday? Yesterday (Tuesday), we managed to find a buyer for the Honda: one of the firefighters that dad works with. The money from the Honda's sales is almost the same as the sales-tax for the new car, oddly enough.

[nezclaw]

RPG ficlet thing

i wrote a few bits on the monkees if they were characters in an rpg fantasy setting. it doesn’t really go anywhere it was just me playing with ideas.

"We're part-time bards." the tallest one explained. "We'd do it full time except it's really hard getting work. Plus, after that one incident we decided it might be better to specialize in something else."

The shadowy figure coalesced some distance away. None of their attacks were working. Their allies were injured or incapacitated. They were in fact the only one still on their feet. There was no way out. They were going to die here. As they moved, to try to position themselves as best they could, they feel something against their chest. Their pendant, a holy symbol of the faith they were raised in, had somehow come out from inside their clothes. One hand grasped it, and a sliver of hope was felt.

They dashed to the side, crouched, and prayed.

The wizard companion, seeing this, flings a cantrip at the foe. They were out of good spells, yes, but they could at least try to distract it just long enough for the shadowmancer to do whatever they had planned.

BANG

A hole appears in the creature's form. Across the chamber the shadowmancer stood, dressed not in inky blackness, but in pure gleaming white. They lower their pistol as the foe advances, and draws a sword and shield, both also gleaming in divine radiance.

A single strike sends the foe reeling, and another couple strikes see it destroyed. Once finished, they sheathe their brilliant weapons and go to where the group's healer has fallen. Radiance is collected and projected onto them.

The cleric revives, their magic restored.

That done, the radiant figure smiles, and collapses. The divine light fades before the cleric can get a reading on the origin, and the figure reverts not to the shadowmancer garb, but to basic sturdy fabric armor.

Even with healing, they remained unconscious and had to be carried out. It wasn't a physical exhaustion, the cleric explained, but a magical depletion.

"Didn't think he had that sorta magic in him..."

"He's got this symbol though..."

Later, the shadowmancer explains that he was raised as a paladin, but circumstances drove him to abandon that path.

"Honestly, I didn't expect to get a response it's been so long since i practiced." he said, twirling his holy symbol. "I do try to keep the faith, but that's more out of habit, y'know?"

"Yeah, but... you're a *thief*."

"I had uh... I do it outta necessity, at least at first. Nowadays I don't steal from shopkeepers, but some rich jerk with a full purse an' no regard for the common people?" He chuckled. "Better that wealth get redistributed to them's that need it."

"Wait... are you the guy who leaves coins in peoples houses? My cousin got a visit from you! She was able to get the kids a new set of warm clothes for the winter."

The rogue shrugged. "I'd heard it was gonna be a bad winter."

"The enchantment on these clothes are incredible. Where did you get these spelled?"

"Actually he did it." He indicated the groups wizard, who grinned.

"It was out of necessity, really. We couldn't afford proper armor, but I got a deal with a cousin who runs a magic shop so I can get spell components really cheap. Plus my instructor was adamant I learn at least a little of how to enchant armor."

"Still, these are remarkably complex. You'd be hard pressed to find armor to beat this. Certainly nothing in my shop is quite this good, although it might look better... You've even got elemental resistances woven into it!"

"Yeah well after the encounter with the young red dragon... and the young blue dragon... and the young white dragon... and the young black dragon..."

"I TOLD him the mountains were called Dragonsnest for a reason... but no he insisted he knew a shortcut," the rogue said.

[poppystain]

𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐘'𝐒 — 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 )  /  feel  free  to  change  pronouns  as  you  see  fit  !

THE TRADITION

❛ she's easy on the eyes. ❜

❛ her soul is black and it's a fact. ❜

❛ so take what you want, take what you can, take what you please. ❜

❛ ask for forgiveness, never permission. ❜

❛ It's in the blood and this is tradition. ❜

❛ they dress her up in golden crowns, her smile hides a lie. ❜

❛ you can take it back it's good as gone. ❜

❛ this is your soul, i hope what's left will last all summer long. ❜

❛ they said that boys were boys but they were wrong. ❜

BELLS IN SANTE FE

❛ don't call me by my name, all of this is temporary. ❜

❛ watch as i step away, for your sake. ❜

❛ maybe i can hold you in the dark. ❜

❛ leaving through the door without a word. you won't even notice, little bird. ❜

❛ better off dead, so i reckon i'm heading to hell instead. ❜

❛ don't wait for me, it's not a happy ending. ❜

❛ to sort out all his bullshit, to figurе out the treason ❜

❛ jesus, you've got better lips than judas. ❜

❛ i could give you bad one, otherwise i'm useless. ❜

❛ 'cause who the fuck would choose this? ❜

EASIER THAN LYING 

❛ i'm only whatever you make me. ❜

❛ you make me more and more a villain every day. ❜

❛ you don’t know you reap, you sow. ❜

❛ whatever you give to me from yourself you take. ❜

❛ well if you're a hater then hate the creator, it's in your image i’m made. ❜

❛ 'cause i'll hang myself if you'd give me rope. ❜

❛ i got so much faith and lost all hope. ❜

❛ one eye broken and one eye bruised, ‘cause I gave myself away for you. ❜

❛ you liar, you don't love me too. ❜

❛ my heart is massive but it's empty. ❜

❛ gasping for some real attention, some undivided hypertension. ❜

❛ losing you is easier than lying to myself. ❜

LILITH

❛ i'm perfection when it comes to first impressions. ❜

❛ you got me thinkin' that i was too mean. ❜

❛ everything that I say I believe. ❜

❛ tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve. ❜

❛ i am disruptive, i've been corrupted. ❜

❛ by now I don't need a fuckin' introduction. ❜

❛ you know I get too caught up in the moment. ❜

❛ i can't call it love if i show it. ❜

❛ i just fuck things up if you notice. ❜

❛ have you noticed? tell me, have you noticed? ❜

❛ now i'm wondering if i ever wanted to hold you. ❜

❛ you'd let anybody with a body control you, and you know it too. ❜

❛ the more that you have, the more that they'll take. ❜

GIRL IS A GUN

❛ i'm not your daydream, i won't have your baby. ❜

❛ it's a shot in the dark, i'm not a walk in the park. ❜

❛ this girl is a gun, and we been havin' some fun. ❜

❛ i can show you if you turn the lights on. ❜

❛ i keep waitin' for love to come and swallow me up. ❜

❛ I feel better when the boys stop callin'. ❜

❛ this girl is a gun, before you know it, it's done. ❜

❛ god is a gun, he can have what he wants. ❜

❛ let me show you how to touch my trigger. ❜

❛ makin' me crazy from mornin' to evenin'. ❜

❛ i can't not take it, i love it, i break it. ❜

❛ it's never enough, so I'm givin' you up. ❜

YOU ASKED FOR THIS

❛ i don't know what you want from me. ❜

❛ now what the fuck does all this mean? ❜

❛ my tears are falling flawlessly now. ❜

❛ go on and be a big girl, you asked for this now. ❜

❛ who the hell is in your bed? ❜

❛ you gotta kiss goodnight and give some head. ❜

❛ i want my cake on a silver plater, i want a fistful in my hands. ❜

❛ i want a beautiful boy's despondent laughter. ❜

❛ i wanna ruin all my plans. ❜

❛ i want a fist around my throat. ❜

❛ i wanna cry so hard, i choke. ❜

❛ i want everything i ask for. ❜

DARLING

❛ really can't remember where i left my spine. ❜

❛ maybe I'll be better if I take my meds. ❜

❛ darling don't you weep, there's a place for me. ❜

❛ somewhere we can sleep, see you in your dreams. ❜

❛ ever since i was a little girl i found this sweet. ❜

❛ all the little flowers give me something to believe in. ❜

❛ never knew the feeling of a stable home, been a couple years of living on the road. ❜

❛ only you have showed me how to love me in a life. ❜

❛ until it's time to see the light, i'll make my own with you each night. ❜

❛ i'll kidnap all the stars and i will keep them in your eyes. ❜

1121

❛ i won't die for love, but i've got a body here to bury. ❜

❛ the parts of myself that i've hated... i can't tell which ones are mine and which I created. ❜

❛ you could have my heart and i would break it for you. ❜

❛ i try to be careful with the thing inside my chest. ❜

❛ so you can forget me , i'll leave if you let me. ❜

❛ please don't leave, don't leave me in the shape you left me. ❜

❛ just leave me in the place you found me safe and soundly. ❜

HONEY

❛ she's on the tip of my tongue, she's on the top of my thighs. ❜

❛ open your mouth, i got a surprise. ❜

❛ all i can taste is the blood in my mouth and the bitterness in goodbye. ❜

❛ drippin' like honеy, down the back of my throat and on the front of my mind. ❜

❛ she stings like she means it, she's mean and she's mine. ❜

❛ i love every second, it's fuckin' fantastic ❜

❛ she's hell in a basket just makin' a racket. ❜

❛ good things aren't easy to get, i know that i won't regret you. ❜

❛ between my fingers, she leaves then she lingers. ❜

WHISPERS

❛ you sabotage the things you love the most. ❜

❛ this is the voice in your head that says, "you do not want this". ❜

❛ this is the ache that says, "you do not want him". ❜

❛ bet I could fuck him. ❜

❛ why do you need love so badly? ❜

❛ i've got a monster inside me. ❜

❛ isn't it lonely? ❜

❛ think that you know me? you think that you could if you hold me? ❜

❛ think you could try to console me, but i do not know me. ❜

I AM NOT A WOMAN, I’M A GOD

❛ i am not a woman, i'm a god. ❜

❛ i am not a martyr, i'm a problem. ❜

❛ i am not a legend, i'm a fraud. ❜

❛ keep your heart, 'cause i already got one. ❜

❛ every day i've got a smile where my frown goes. ❜

❛ maybe i could be a different human in a new place. ❜

❛ i just wanna feel something, tell me where to go. ❜

❛ i stay right herе 'cause i'm better all alonе. ❜

❛ i never listen but i see you with my eyes closed. ❜

❛ it really does hurt when you love someone. ❜

THE LIGHTHOUSE

❛ from a tender age i was closed with rage. ❜

❛ i went swimming with the devil at the bottom of a lake. ❜

❛ he was tall and mean with venom eyes so green. ❜

❛ i'll allure you like a landslide and I'll show you lovely things. ❜

❛ he kissed me on the mouth and dug his fingers in my thighs. ❜

❛ a sailor ain't a savior 'cause they only tell you lies. ❜

❛ he's laying in the water, begging god to let him down. ❜

❛ i showed him all my teeth and then i laughed out loud. ❜

❛ i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found. ❜

❛ that should teach a man to mess with me. ❜

❛ i'm glad i met the devil 'cause he showed me i was weak, and a little piece of him is a little piece of me. ❜

YA’ABURNEE 

❛ i can't decide if i love you more at morning or i love you more at night. ❜

❛ the moon don't pick sides and the sun won't resign until you're by my side. ❜

❛ your beauty is a blessing. ❜

❛ i never got to tell you how i lovеd the way my eyes makе yours look green. ❜

❛ i think we could live forever in each others faces. ❜

❛ if we don't live forever maybe one day we'll trade places. ❜

❛ darling, you will bury me before i bury you. ❜

❛ i'll never know if there's danger in confession. ❜

❛ it's memory that presses like a blade against my throat. ❜

❛ or to die without revealing that you got inside my head. ❜

❛ love is just a currency so take my pockets, and take me home. ❜

❛ take my life, and take my soul, wrap me in a wedding ring. ❜

[twdeadfanfic]

Daryl Dixon One Shots

SNOW: Daryl’s been away from the communities for years, after Rick died, and in those years, he met Y/N when she stumbled into his camp. She needed help and Daryl took her in… They ended up being friends and then more, and by now, they have been together for years. Y/N is with Dog at the camp, waiting for Daryl, who went to trade to Alexandria, when it starts snowing. Winter holiday vibes one-shot.

HOT COCOA:  Pre-apocalypse with winter holiday vibes. Y/N is an elementary shcool teacher new to the town, and one of her students is little Dixon, Daryl Dixon’s nephew, Daryl has taken care of him for years, the kid’s mother out of the picture and his father seeming to be in and out of jail all of the time.One afternoon, as usual, little Dixon is the last kid to be picked up from Y/N’s extracurricular art class, since Daryl works long shifts at the town garage, and once he goes to pick up the kid, he might as well lend a hand to the kid and Y/N while they get ready some decorations for the school’s christmas play.

PERIOD:  After months on the run without her period, it comes back once the reader is living safely at the prison, and with it some discomfort and of course, cramps. Tags: Stablished relationship. Daryl is asexual, I guess that’s not a problem. I hope you are not squirnish about periods either, because there’s fluff and blood in here.

WHERE’S MY MIND:  Request, Reader has manic-depressive disorder, and she has run out of meds, which makes it hard to control it, and hard to control the way she feels and the way in which it changes, no matter Daryl tries to help. Angs, hurt/comfort, sad  3334 one-shot, inspired by the prompts  Maybe you should fuck yourself” and “There’s nothing wrong with you”

HOPELESS:  After losing everyone when the walkers attacked the quarry, reader can’t see the point on keep going, but then Daryl Dixon becomes her shadow, frustrating her attempts at being alone and end it all. She doesnt know why he’s doing it, neither seemed to know it himself, and neither does reader know if she’ll ever stop feeling like this, if that sense of hopelessness and lonelyness will ever leave her…Warning for suicidal reader.  (4600 words one-shot inspired by the prompt “I saved your life”)

CAN’T HELP IT: Things with Daryl aren’t easy. Reader’s been with the Dixon brothers since the begining of the outbreak, after being resqued by Daryl in their town. Eventually, she discovered how big Daryl’s heart is…and how stubbor, reckless, harsh and infurating he can be too. That doesn’t mean they aren’t friends, though, becoming more than friends after the CDC, but it means that they fight day in day out…and in one of those fights the reader is going to find something about Daryl that she didn’t know, and which would break her heart. Inspired by the idea of Daryl flinching during a fight with the reader because she can’t help but think she’s going to hit him. Set in season 2, with flashbacks to season 1 to when reader and Daryl meet, and when they get together.

A SECRET WELL KEPT: The reader has two scecrets. A small one, her crush on Daryl. A big one, the abuse he endured at the hands of her parents. On his side, and after just having arrived at Alexandria, Daryl’s not doing good, making him snap easily. Dyring a fight between him and the reader, some secrets are going to slip.

WINGS:  Little one-shot, set after season 9, Daryl’s vest is more than damaged, one of the wings torn and the other missing…and Y/N doesn’t like it, doesn’t like it at all…she wants to give the guardian angel his wings back.

MINE: Daryl’s girl is a pretty reserved person. She doesn’t talk much unless she really needs to. When Tyreese has Daryl pinned after finding Karen’s body, she reacts the fastest and aims at him,and this time you can bet she’s going to speak. Request.

EVERYBODY KNOWS Daryl has a crush on Y/N, his mind wandering to her at the worst moments on its own accord, making him unable to think straight with her arround, it’s frustrating and it’s embarrassing…little do he knows that it’s exactly the same for Y/N, who’s also unable to stop her eyes from wandering to him, her mind daydreaming. All their friends, seem to know, though…could them both going to a run finally bring them together? This was a request. Both reader and Daryl’s pov in third person.

SAD LOVE LIFE:The reader and Daryl share their sad love stories during late night watchs, until eventually they come out to each other as bisexuals.

DON’T LEAVE: Daryl and the reader used to be close, but with him leaving to the woods and her living in Alexandria, they hadn’t seen each other in a long while, until the meet again at Hilltop in 9x09.

AFTER THE BRIDGE:  Imagine following Daryl after Rick blows up the bridge.

NOT THIS TIME : When the prison falls you find yourself alone with baby Judith, running away from the chaos to save the baby, your heart breaking at the loss of your home, your friends, your family, your love…You were once unable to keep your own baby safe, will you be able to keep Judith safe now? Inspired by a request.

SLOW: The reader is getting ready for Deanna’s party, even though it felts a bit silly, even though Alexandria feels strange, she wants to try. She finds Daryl outside Deanna’s house, he seems to want to try to, but it’s not easy for him. Needless to say, an invitation to Aaron and Eric’s house for dinner instead of staying at the party is more than welcome.There’s not much plot here, just a reader crushing in Daryl, and Daryl being awkward and shy yet sweet.    I always thought that no matter what, I wouldn’t shave in the apocalypse.  I never wrote it in fics because I didn’t know what people would think. But  talking to some people here they thought the same, so that idea inspired   this one-shot.

I ONLY WANT YOU: Prision-era, Daryl and the reader are together, but now that there’s more people at the prison and the reader spends more time with a new friend, Daryl can’t help but feel insecure and jealous. Inspired by a request.

SOMEONE TO TAKE CARE OF YOU: The Reader is sick and Daryl takes care of her, fluff, and pre-apocalypse. Inspired by a request.

IT MIGHT BE CHRISTMAS: Daryl Dixon x Reader, Christmas inspired one-shot, some holidays vibes in TWD word.

YOU’LL BE SAFE: The reader lost her camp and her people and is roaming the woods alone when a group of men find her, bad men. But a not so bad man showes up to help, though how can you trust a stranger after all you had seen, all you had gone through? Inspired by a request.

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer I

Part 02: That James Deam Daydream

series masterlist | previous part

summary: After the car accident, you haven’t been able to get Rafe out of your mind but hasn’t he already caused enough trouble?

a/n: With the semester ending I have a lot more free time so I plan on updating this series more consistently (ie weekly)!! I’m also gonna start a taglist for this series so if you want to be added to it drop a ☀️ in my inbox/messages!

word count: 1.5k

The fluorescent lights of the hospital flooded your vision as you blinked your groggy eyes open. The machines you were connected to beeped slow and hypnotically beside you. You could feel the pain that would ripple through your body with every movement before had even attempted to sit up. Your breathing was labored and forced, an unusual sensation.

Your mom entered the room carrying two cups of steaming coffee which she placed on the small table in the corner of the room as soon as she noticed you were awake. She sat down quickly in the chair that was situated on the left side of your hospital bed. She automatically took your hand in hers.

"Oh, good, honey. You're awake. How are you feeling?" She asked, her brow knit together in concern. The bags under her eyes seemed to give you some indication of how long you'd been out. Your mother was always the most put together in the room. Her dirty blonde hair, the same color as yours, always gave the allusion of having been freshly blown out. Her makeup never looked chalky or stale, a skill you'd never quite been able to replicate. She lived in black blazers and stilettos, her purse resting in the nook of her arm.

The person holding tightly onto your hand in that hospital room was an entirely different version of your mom. One that two days ago had gotten a call that her daughter had gotten into a car crash, thrown a bunch of clothes in a suitcase, and board the first available flight from Oregon to the Outer Banks.

Your eyelids drooped, it was taking all your energy to keep them open so you let them close.

"Mom," you said, your voice coming out just barely above a whisper. "What happened?" You asked, even though you remembered most of what had happened the night of the crash.

The way you'd scrapped your knee climbing out of your window of your Nonna's house. The beautiful Cameron boy. The bonfire and the stink eye Phoebe had given you all night. The headlights of the car bellowing down the wrong side of the road. Rafe's hand grabbings yours.

Your mom reached up and brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen onto your face. "You were in a car crash y/n. The other car hit the side of the one you were in and pushed you into a ditch. The force of the airbag fractured your rib which punctured your lung. The doctors said you're gonna be okay but they're keeping you on an IV drip of some pain meds."

Your chest did feel heavy but not just from the injuries.

"Wh- what about Rafe? Is he okay?" You forced yourself to open your eyes.

Your mom breathed in sharply. "He's okay. He left the hospital yesterday with his dad with only a concussion and a broken wrist."

"Mmmhmm." You mumbled in acknowledgment. You could feel sleep taking over once again. "I love you." You said to your mom before drifting off.

☼☼☼

Your bed was littered with the clothes you should have been packing because your flight left early tomorrow morning but instead, you were laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling, the fan whirling around rapidly. The August heat had seeped into the house, causing you to break into a sweat with the smallest movement. The sounds of the conversation between your Nonna and mom echoed from downstairs. You were sure they were probably arguing about you, again.

Your mom hadn't been able to let the accident go even though. You tried to explain to her how you'd left the house without your Nonna's permission so it wasn't like it was totally her fault. You sighed, wincing at the pain that still ran through your body when you took too deep a breath.

A tiny ping filled your ears causing you to sit up.

Ping. There it was again.

A third peddle hit your window. You walked over to it, sliding it open to see Rafe standing on the lawn below.

Your breath hitched. You hadn't seen him since that night but he looked exactly the same except for the black splint on his wrist.

"Hi," he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth so his voice carried.

You glanced over your shoulder nervous that your mom or Nonna were going to walk into the room at any moment having heard Rafe's shouting.

"Come up here," you replied, waving him up to your room.

With a surprising amount of speed for someone with only one good wrist, he pulled himself up the side of the porch and climbed through your window.

His eyes meet yours as he landed on the carpet and words escaped you entirely. The sparks that had been there that night hadn't disappeared at all.

"Hey, stranger," Rafe said, failing to hold back a smirk.

"Nice cast," you replied.

He looked down at it and quickly back up at you. "I'm sorry about everything. I promised to get you home safe and then got us into a car crash. Not exactly how I pictured the night ending." He forced a laugh but the regret in his voice was unmissable.

You took a step closer to him. "You don't have to apologize Rafe. You did everything you could. And I'm okay. You're okay. We're alive." There was more you wanted to say but the words seemed to disappear before you could form them.

Rafe closed the distance between the two of you stopping right in front of you. "God, I like you so much and I really fucked it up. Didn't I?"

This time a genuine laugh escaped you. "I think we might be able to salvage it." You responded feeling unusually bold. You grabbed his face, pulling him down to your level and placed an urgent kiss on his lips.

He slipped his own hand behind your neck, keeping your mouth pressed against his. The air around you was electric and neither of you dared to pull away first.

The door to your bedroom swung open and your Nonna's loud stern voice suddenly took over.

"Y/n y/l/n."

You stepped away from Rafe quickly, dropping your arms to your side. You turned around to face your Nonna. Her face was set with anger.

"Out Mr. Cameron." She instructed.

"Right. I was just leaving." He replied, moving back towards the window.

"Out the front door." Your Nonna clarified.

"Oh, yeah. Of course. My bad." Rafe said. His eyes connected with yours for just a moment as he walked out of the room. Your head the front door close behind him a few beats later.

You stayed frozen in the middle of the room, awaiting the lecture you knew was coming next.

Your Nonna crossed the room and shut the window.

"You're letting all the a/c out." She said, dryly.

"I'm sorry," you responded, apologizing for more than leaving the window open.

"A Cameron boy almost ruined your mother's life. I won't let the same thing happen to you." Your Nonna pushed some of your clothes aside and sat down on the bed.

"Your mom," she started again. "She started dating Rafe's dad, Ward, during her junior year. He was a year older and going to UNC in the fall. She wanted to follow him after she graduated high school. She thought she loved him and I told her no. Told her she could pick anywhere else but I wouldn't pay for her to throw her life away for puppy love. They broke up in October of her senior year. She barely spoke more than a few words to me for months. Then she moved away to California for college and didn't call me her entire freshman year. It was the hardest thing I've had to do as a mother. It almost ruined me. Ruined our relationship. But he was never going to really make her happy. He didn't love her like she loved him and it would never have lasted and then she'd be stuck at a school that she hadn't chosen for herself." Your Nonna looked up at you as she finished speaking.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" She asked. "That Cameron boy isn't good for you." Your Nonna stood up and walked over to you. She placed a kiss on your forehead. "I love you, muffin."

"I love you too." You replied. "I gotta finish packing."

"Okay," she said, closing the door behind her as she walked out of your room.

You flopped backward onto your bed and let out an audible groan. You had finally kissed Rafe Cameron and of course, your Nonna had to walk in at that moment.

Your phone, which had been previously discarded in the mess on your bed, buzzed. You pulled it out from under a pile of swimsuits. A text from Rafe popped up on the screen.

r: 'I'm officially scared of your grandma.'

y/n: 'hahah did you know our parents dated in hs?'

r: 'Really? I didn't. Weird.'

r: 'When do you leave?'

y/n: 'tomorrow moring'

The three dots showing that Rafe was typing appeared the screen up again and then went away. You waited another moment before turning your phone off and tossing it to the side.

You knew your Nonna just wanted the best for you but it wasn't gonna be easy to get Rafe Cameron out of your head.

[kylos-bens]

Mistakes Like This ↠ Obi-Wan Kenobi (Obi-Wan x Reader)

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: ANGST! 

A/N: Its been a while since I’ve written something but this Obi-Wan obsession came running back so here I am. 

Masterlist

Chapter 2 

gif credit: @ewan-mcgregor

The halls to the Jedi Library were too quiet as you strolled through them. You were recently assigned to teach a few Younglings as part of your rotation in the Jedi Temple. This week you had too much in your mind so you thought about assigning them a few readings and get on with it. After a nasty injury, a near-death experience, you were left back at the Jedi Temple to recuperate. You were alone for the most part of that and now you were just getting back to business by starting off slow by teaching Younglings. Which you never thought would actually be something that interested you but it did. You were just about to make a turn when you saw members of the Council gathered together. It was rare to see them out and about so you just slowed your pace and tried to listen in. Through the bodies, you spotted him. 

Master Kenobi. 

Your breath hitched and felt a twinge on the healing wound on your back. There was only a split second before you can move along and ignore that little crowd but it was too late. Your eyes already met. His furrowed eyebrows softened and those kind blue eyes lit up. The last time you saw them you were dipping in and out of consciousness laying on a snowy planet waiting for reinforcements. The only thing that kept you warm was his breath and hot tears. You were actually surprised that they didn’t turn into ice.  

Immediately you just went on your way. The memories of that mission already being shoved into a deep pocket in your mind. You hurriedly make your way to the Jedi Library hoping to avoid distractions. Once inside you moved through the tall shelves and hid. Your breathing had not changed. It worried you that you would be too loud so you just bit into your arm and cried. 

It has been too long. You haven’t seen him. Deep down you had guilt and embarrassment for what you confessed to him while you laid in his arms dying. The feelings that you had for him since your padawan days. His eyes were filled with tears and he kept telling you to not speak because you were straining yourself. He held you close to him telling you that they were coming.  Death was approaching and your foolish self thought it was a good idea to just tell him all that. Now that you were capable of thinking correctly you realized he probably didn’t want to hear it. You’d pick death over having to face him again. He never forgets. You wiped your eyes and just took a deep breath. Foolish. You keep repeating that to yourself. 

-

No one knows this but in the evenings while you were still recovering you would drag yourself out of the medical bay. You were already starting to feel fine and you could walk so no one really went after you. Your favorite place to sit was in the temple gardens. It wasn’t too far from where you were supposed to be so it didn’t make you lose your breath. 

Sitting here now you admired the view of Coruscant. The dark velvety night sky was dotted with ships here and there, the skyscrapers like stalagmites looming over, and just the noises of the city calmed you. You pretended you weren’t a Jedi Knight but a simple citizen of Coruscant just trying to get by. 

“Out of all people I was surprised to hear you didn’t miss me,” the voice broke your daydreaming. You didn’t respond and didn’t dare turn around. There was an icy silence and you could hear the soft crunch of grass underneath your former master’s boots. 

“I guess I was just busy with my new duties,” you kept your eyes low and fiddled with a leaf. You did miss him but you had to lie to yourself. His presence made you nervous because this was the first time you were alone together again. You didn’t dare ask if Obi-Wan Kenobi came to visit you in the infirmary when you woke up from your induced coma. What would the nurses say? His demeanor was calm and you couldn’t help it, you gave him a quick glance. Those blue eyes were already watching you intently. 

“And so I heard,” he motioned his arm to the spot beside you and you just give him a nod. Obi-Wan let out a soft breath as he sat next to you on the dewy grass. A distance that was fine for you but still you could smell him. His warm smell then filled you up and reminded you of the happier missions you went on with him. One particular memory was when the two of you shared a ride on a varactyl. You had no choice but didn’t complain because that was the first time you were so close to your master. 

“How did you find me?” you asked, still keeping your focus on this damn leaf. 

“I went to visit your quarters but you were missing,” he was looking at you. You felt that. “So I thought where would my young one go run off to?” When he said “young one” you felt goosebumps manifest throughout your body. He hasn’t called you that in ages. Once you became a Knight he respected your new title and called you by your name. While you, on the other hand, took sometime before you stopped calling him master. General was your usual name for him now. Even that was unfamiliar on your tongue these days. He noticed your silence. “Is something the matter?” 

“No,” you replied. 

“How is your wound?” he continued on. There was more silence and then started doing his signature move of stroking his beard. He took a breath and looked at you again.  “I apologize that I was not there for your recovery the Council had me sent-”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted him. You were trying to keep your eyes clear of tears. There were the sounds of alarms in the distance and Obi-Wan sat there with you listening. You could swear your heart was beating so loudly. The thoughts in your head were trying to share themselves but you quelled them. 

“You’re holding something back,” his voice was soft. He was doing this on purpose. You don’t answer him, just kept on playing with the leaf. His hand surprised you when he took the leaf out of it. “We can talk about it you know.” You looked at him this time. His hand is still in yours. 

“We don’t have to,” you whispered. 

“But it’s eating you up. I can see it in your eyes,” he matched the tone of your voice. 

“It was a lapse in judgment,” you take your hand away and his own was still suspended between you two. He drops it finally at his side and runs his thumb over the leaf you were just holding. “I said stupid things because I thought I was dying yet here I am.” You said the last few words with a little disgust that Obi-Wan actually looked at you with concern. “I had enough time to think about what I said and with a clearer mind, I urge you to just forget about it.” There was more silence and it pained you. You just stared at his profile and felt a twinge in your heart. He was beautiful and even in the poorly lit garden, you can still see the details of his face. Even his hair flittered a little as a slight breeze moved through the both of you. You studied that face while you were in your briefings, eating meals, and training. Of course, you knew all about the details. As you laid in your med bay cushion you always thought about how his eyes would never look at you the same way. Obi-Wan turned his head and the lamp post gave them a sparkle. 

“It is not simple for me to forget it,” he finally said. It was your turn to stare at him. “I thought you were dying in my arms. Deep within me, I felt your life force slipping away. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you were about to get up but he stopped you by gently holding your wrist. 

“Please listen to what I have to say,” his voice was gentle to match his hold on you. “We’ve been parted for too long.” You sat back down and observed him carefully. The last thing he said was swirling in your mind. Obi-wan lowered his head towards you and you held your breath. “I thought about you every day.” This hits you like a wall and you thought that your lungs were being crushed. He’s just saying these things because you were his padawan. Of course, he worried about your health. You stayed still. 

“Your duties didn’t keep you busy?” you used your own excuse on him. 

“You don’t believe me,” he lets out a sigh. “If I could I would have stayed and watched over you.” 

“We can’t,” you start. “We can’t-” 

“Let me show you,” Obi-Wan holds your hand in his and guides it near his face. You were confused but then you realized what he meant. “You were vulnerable when you expressed your feelings to me. Let me do the same.” He closed his eyes and you stared at him with your hand a few centimeters away from his temple. “It is difficult for me to say in words what I mean.” Is Master Kenobi unable to find the right words? This is definitely different and your heart was trying to break through your chest  “Remember what I taught you” You hesitated and was staring at his serene face. It wasn’t long till you closed your own. 

It was hazy but you can decipher the figures in his memories. You were surprised at how efficient you were at finding them. He really tore down his defenses. You tried to get a closer look. The memory felt soft to your touch and the warmth surrounded you. The figures were no other than the both of you sitting by a warm fire. It must have been a mission the two of you were on. You couldn’t recall but Obi sure does. Watching yourself make something out of the wiring and spare parts looked funny. That wasn’t your forte and this definitely was before you were knighted. Your master looked on at you with a small smile on his face. With his beard, you couldn’t tell but now that you stand there in his memories you could.  

“Master I do believe that I can make something out of this,” your own voice caused you to turn your attention to yourself. 

“I think you could,” he averted his eyes when your past self looked at him. You remember after you told him that you spent the entire mission trying to figure something out to make. Towards the end of your mission, you were just frustrated and just took a piece of what you believe was a droid and wrapped it in a leather string. It was childish, and you thought it would be a good joke after a successful trade deal, so you made two. One for you and one for your master. You knew it would just be lost somewhere in your travels so at the end when you were on your way back to Coruscant you gave him one and showed him yours. You guys made a joke about it and you felt so proud of yourself that you are finally at this level of comfort with him. After that, you never really saw those bracelets again. Even you lost it. 

The memory wavers and a new one was presented to you. Now it was just Obi-Wan. Your heart drops slightly because this memory feels recent. He looked tired and this definitely was not his quarters in the Jedi temple. It was small and looked almost like it was in one of the flagships. His outer robes were not on and he sat down on his cot. Covering his face with his hands and sighing. It could not have been the memory after your injury. 

He makes a slow movement and slides his hand into the robes he removed on the bed. He withdraws a worn metal object with a brown strap. It couldn’t be. 

It was the ugly bracelet you made for him.

The metal was worn and it looked like it was rubbed on for too long. Obi-Wan looked at it in his hand and brought it to his lips. Placing a light kiss on the metal and bringing it to his forehead. The sensation probably cooled him. He was starting to murmur something.  You inched closer and you can almost touch him. It was your name. Then he ran his thumb over the metal. “Please heal my darling. I need you to see once more.” You backed away and watched him. The memory once again wavers and you’re trying to grasp something. The dark surrounded you and then you heard your own laugh. The sound of your humming. Your breath as you parried another lightsaber by the sound of it. Memories were faint but they flashed in front of you. They were of you from Obi-Wan’s view. The images went by of your eyes, your hair fluttering as you perfect a move that he taught you, and the way your lips formed into a smile when he praised your new learned skill. 

It was overwhelming you had to remove yourself. This was way more than what you shared with him. You were back in the cool evening. The garden was now dark. It was just two bodies almost pressed together. You can hear his breathing and it was so close to you. Your eyes still lowered but you managed to look up and face him. Your wrist still in his and your fingers grazing the beard on his face. He was always already looking at you. Examining your facial expression and you can tell he was waiting for you to say something about what you saw. You couldn't, your tongue was frozen. “I didn’t know the feeling. It was foreign to me and I tried my best to hide it and not let those feelings split us up from each other.” You knew there were consequences to breaking the oath. “But when I held you in my arms that night all I wanted to do was tell you. I couldn’t because I knew you were strong and I was just trying to keep you alive.” 

“Obi,” you felt a tear release itself from your eyes and down one cheek. 

“Even if that meant that we couldn’t be together in a way we want to,” he searched your eyes and noticed the tear so he used his thumb to wipe it off your cheek. It lingered there and he placed it at the crook of your neck. “I just needed you to close” His forehead touched yours. Never in your life would you be this close to him. Your noses were touching and his hand gently stroked your neck. 

“Knowing you I know this would not be a secret,” you whispered. “Because nothing should happen between us.” He moves his hand down to your shoulder and you stayed still as it continued on to your back where your wound was. His touch was reverent and you were staring at him. 

“I have realized the moment I saw you again that I would be willing to break that expectation of me,” his lips were close to yours and you were aching to just meet them. His beard is already tickling your skin. Your hand on his face was quivering and he placed his own on it. “Darling, please.” It came out as a hushed whisper and your mind was running with thoughts. 

Even if that meant that we couldn’t be together in a way we want to. 

This was repeating in your head. The warm breath of your master on your lips was such an intoxicating feeling. You feel him running his fingers over your shoulder blade. Obi-Wan’s lips were just too make contact with yours when you jolted back. He released you and his eyes were saddened. Your heart at your throat as you moved away from him. 

“We shouldn’t,” was the last thing you said before darting back inside the temple. 

Next Chapter 

[dearest-bucky]

There went my heart (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: A new nurse starts working with the Avengers and she takes an immediate liking to one blue eyed, metal armed super soldier. The best part is that he likes her too. 

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: None, I think.. Fluff

Originally posted:  May 28, 2020

How does one starts working with the Avengers? Or rather for the Avengers, but these are just technicalities, really.  Truth is, she had no idea! It seemed as if she was just a very lucky person. When Tony Stark offered her to be a part of the medical team alongside Helen Cho and Bruce Banner, she wasn't dumb to decline. It's not that she wasn't happy working as a nurse in one of the many hospitals of New York, but being able to work with the Avengers themselves, was really something else. And she couldn't wait to meet them all and introduce herself.

On the first day of her new job, most of the team was away on a mission, so she only met with the other nurses and lab assistants. She was walking around the med bay, getting familiar with her surroundings when one of her new colleagues, a dark haired nurse named Jessica, called her from the door of the lab.

"Come on Y/n, we have to get ready. The team will arrive in 30 minutes and Captain Rogers informed us that they need medical assistance. Several team members were injured in this one." As the other woman finished speaking she ran towards the infirmary room to prepare for their arrival.

No longer than the 30 minutes Captain America had informed, several people came barreling through the doors of the infirmary. A red head woman that she recognized as Black Widow was leaning heavily on Steve Rogers' shoulder, one of her hands putting pressure on her side. One of the nurses moved quickly towards them to assist. Following was Sam Wilson, walking alone but with a small limp and just a black eye. He seemed to keep himself up fine, but another nurse ran to him too, tending to whatever little wound he had. Sitting in a chair to let the nurse do her job, his voice a little gruff as he spoke. "Someone check on Bucky, a bullet pierced his shoulder through."

She turned her head towards the door where Bucky had entered last, a scowl on his slightly pale face, but Y/n couldn't help but see that he was in fact a very handsome man, despite his current state. No camera, no matter how advanced its lenses were, could ever do justice to that man's beauty.

Next to her, she felt Jessica go stiff and shift her feet slightly, but not daring to move. Y/n was thinking she'd be the one to take care of him since she'd been working in the compound longer than she had, but seeing the other woman had no intention of leaving her spot, her professional training kicked in and before she knew it, Y/n was walking towards Bucky where he had already taken a seat in one of the cots.

His shoulders were slumped and his head was hanging low, so she carefully cleared her throat to make herself present. She didn't want to startle him or hurt him in any way, so with a soft voice, she spoke up. "Hello Sergeant Barnes, can I take a look at your shoulder?"

At the sound of her voice, he picked his head up to look at the person who was talking to him and he was surprised to see a young woman standing so close to him, he had no idea how she had gotten this close without him noticing. Her light skin complexion, illuminating more under the artificial lighting made her looked like an angel. Yeah, Bucky was surprised, but good surprised. He only nodded his head, not trusting his voice to speak up, but that was all she needed to begin working. Her touch was light as a feather as she cut his shirt to take care of his wound. He noticed she was careful as she touched him, almost cautious, but it wasn't because she was scared of him, not at all. She just didn't want to inflict him any more pain that he was already enduring, and that warmed his heart like nothing and no one had done in decades.

His eyes were glued to her face as she worked, the tip of her tongue poked out in concentration as she tended to his wound and Bucky thought she was nothing short of adorable. He was lost in thoughts of her and he didn't even feel her cut the thread as she finished sewing his wound. She put a clean bandage on it and with a small smile playing on her lips, she spoke up again. "I'm done."

Bucky moved his eyes to look anywhere but her face as he mumbled a "thanks" and a blush crept up his neck and cheeks in an instant. He felt as if she had caught him daydreaming about her; in fact he'd been so lost in his head he hadn't even felt the needle pierce his flesh at least a dozen times as she sewed him up. But could anyone blame him for losing his mind when she stood so close to him looking like an angel?

It was later that day when the Avengers were all cleared from the med bay and sent to bed rest, after cleaning and putting things back to place, that she had a chance to sit for a few minutes to catch a breath. Jessica sat in the chair next to her, her hair a little disheveled from the many times she'd carded her fingers through it. She let out a sigh before speaking. "So, how was your first day? Were your expectations for this job met?"

Y/n let out a small chuckle at her questions. "It was great really. I mean, working with superheroes is really something. But I loved it. I'm happy to be here." She said sincerely.

"Yeah, about that. You were really brave to walk up to Barnes today." At that, the smile that was playing in Y/n's lips dropped in a second, only to be replaced with a small frown, a crease forming between her brows. She waited for Jessica to continue speaking, to explain what she meant, so she silently tilted her chin up to nudge her to speak again. "It's just that he's kind of scary, you know..." She started and Y/n's brows only furrowed more. "You know of his past, right? You know what he has done, everyone knows. Plus he's always wearing a scowl on his face, as if he hates everyone around here. None of the nurses work with him, only dr. Cho or dr. Banner take care of him when he comes in."

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was still being judged for his past, for something that wasn't his fault at all.  She knew he was a victim just like every other person he'd been forced to hurt and kill. She scoffed in annoyance at her co-worker's words, the other woman's eyes widening in surprise at the reaction.

"I can't believe you're saying this. None of that was his fault, you know that, everybody knows that. Yet here you are, judging him for something he had no control over. He's a war hero, you know. He gave his life for this country once and he's doing it again everyday he goes out on a mission, just like the rest of the Avengers are." A fire was ignited in her chest, a strong desire to defend the man and that's what she was doing. She would defend him in front of the whole world, she decided right then and there, if it was needed. "You should be happy to have the honor of taking care for him afterwards, not talk behind his back."

Jessica only lowered her head, in shame or something else, Y/n couldn't tell, but she was glad to have given her a piece of her mind, plus it made her shut her mouth. She got up from the chair and took off her white coat, her job for the day being finished. She was ready to go back home and get a good night's sleep after a really active first day.

The next couple of months passed in a blur, really. Everyday she'd get up and go to work, weekends too.  After all, there are no weekends off from saving the world. Doctor Banner was kind enough to give her a day off every week, but most of the time she refused because she had no better place to be.

During this time, Bucky would enter the med bay more times than she could count, but she never complained anyway. His presence was always welcome to her, and if it was up to her, she'd be happy to have him there every day. Just to see him. Most of the time he came in with the pretense to see Bruce, others he'd be back from a mission with several cuts and bruises that Y/n was always ready to tend to.

She was conversing to one of the other nurses, listening to the other woman talk about her 14 years old daughter and her challenges as mother of a teenager, when she heard someone clear their throat behind them. She quickly turned her head around, only to be met with Bucky's figure, a sheepish look in his face.

"Hi." She said, a little breathlessly. No matter how many times she saw him, he never ceased to amaze her. He was so handsome she wanted nothing more than to smother him with hugs and kisses every minute of every day. She shook her head lightly as if to get rid of those thoughts and got up to walk to him.

"Hi, doll." He replied and she blushed at the pet name. He'd started calling her that a few weeks ago and now it stuck. And she liked it more when he called her 'doll' than her actual name. Before she could ask him what was he doing there, he showed her his arm, a slash on his bicep and blood dripping down the entire limb.

Her eyes widened at the sight and she quickly grabbed some cotton balls and antiseptic, urging him to sit on one of the chairs before she started cleaning the blood off of his arm. "What happened?" She asked as she wiped the blood, throwing one cotton ball in the garbage can and grabbing another.

"Knife training with Nat, I lost focus and didn't step back in time so she grazed my arm. It was merely an accident." He explained and when the blood was cleaned she could see it wasn't that deep of a cut anyway. She still continued to nurse the cut though, silently dabbing  the cotton and applying an antibiotic ointment as to not get it infected.

"I didn't think a super soldier could lose focus." She replied with a playful smirk on her lips and Bucky smiled down at her.

"I guess there's just a lot in my mind lately." His words were accompanied with a small sigh and she didn't dare ask him more, for fear of overstepping a boundary or something. She finished with his arm and was about to move away, but he grabbed her wrist with his metal hand, preventing her from moving too far.

She turned her head to look at him, a questioning look in her eyes. "Thank you doll." He said simply and she returned his smile with one of her own.

"You're welcome." She replied simply despite his touch causing her entire body to flush with warmth and she tried again to move away from him - suddenly the closeness was too much. He only tightened her grip on her wrist, enough to let her know he didn't plan on letting her go, but not enough to hurt her in the slightest. Her heart was beating fast inside her rib cage and she knew he could hear it too, the thump thump's almost echoing in the otherwise silent room.

She realized then they were alone in the infirmary, the other nurse had left without so much as a word.

She could only stare at his face, his eyes locked to hers, a look she couldn't really place, before he spoke again. "No, thank you Y/n." The use of her name surprised her a little. He hadn't called her that in a while, opting to go for doll instead. "For being so kind to me. Kinder than anyone had been in a long time."

"Bucky..." She wanted to interrupt him, to say something, but he shook his head a little before speaking again.

"Before you, none of the nurses would take care of me, always glancing in my direction in fear and suspicion, as if I'd lash out and go all psycho on them. But then you came, and you walked to me, so soft and caring and with a touch so light I thought you were an actual angel." His words were causing her to blush a deep shade of pink but she didn't dare interrupt him again, scared that if she did all of this would have been a dream, a figment of her imagination.

Without even noticing, the hand that was holding her wrist had moved slightly towards her palm and their fingers were intertwined. She lowered her head to look at their joined hands and a smile formed on her lips, her thumb moving to caress his metal knuckles.

"Doll, forgive me if I'm outta line now but if I don't tell you this I think I'm gonna die in the spot." At that her eyes moved up to meet his expectantly, hopeful. A spark that she'd come to see more and more of lately was glinting in his own eyes and she could only wait for him to continue speaking. That he did. "Ever since the moment I saw you I felt something I hadn't felt in decades and doll I like you so much and maybe all of this is my imagination, but I think that you like me too and I was really hoping you'd want to have dinner with me sometimes?" He finished a little breathless, despite having spoken the words so slow as if he was afraid she'd miss it if he didn't enunciate each one of them.

The smile on her lips kept widening with each passing moment and she squeezed his hand in hers a little before speaking up her answer to him. "Bucky, I'd love nothing more."

A wide smile mirroring hers bloomed on his lips and all he could do was stare at her in admiration, not wanting to ruin the beauty of the moment with any other word or move. After a few minutes in silence, only staring at each other lovingly, Y/n finally found her voice to speak again. "Bucky?"

"Hmm..?"

She cleared her throat before speaking, taking a small moment to muster up the courage to speak the next words, but she couldn't help the blush that deepened in her cheeks as she spoke.

"I was really hoping you would kiss me."

[cloveroctobers]

CHELSEA ELLE HODGSON —

IG info/Bio: @/chelseaaahodecor | 109k followers | hi babes! welcome to my life lovelies, please get comfy with this Prosecco im serving thru this screen! xx here’s my site if you need some light in ur life: ichelseahdgsondesigns.com 🏝💕

24 (25) years

From Buckinghamshire, England

Comes from a wealthy family

her father’s side of the family founded, “Hodgson investments” their company is built off of financial services

Her papo (grandfather) was arrested on tax invasion & served some time for doing so

Her father, Alistair now manages the company but under a different name

Her mother’s side of the family comes from old money...something about horses?

Her mother, Connie holds many events and seems to make $ from them but Chelsea isn’t quite sure what the woman does or if it’s fully legal

The family is all about protecting their image & if you don’t cut it, there will be repercussions

Feels a little like dynasty (I’ve only seen 2-3 episodes & never finished but get the point?) , maybe that’s why Chelsea & her sister enjoy watching it so much

Parents forsure held courtship events or either went to courtship events with their children (even Albie) & found suitors in hopes of marrying their daughters off (& finding Albie a new wife, only on Mrs. Hodgson’s part— mr. Hodgson seems nicer/easy-going)

Has older twin sibs: Albie-Crispin & Dolly-Georgiana

Often referred to as “the triplet” in the press

Well-known in their city

They’re all called by their first & middle name in their family household even tho their parents do not have middle names

Has a love/hate relationship with albie, he is selfish & has proven to do anything to drag others down to make himself look better

He’s a lawyer & has been married to his wife for about 7 years

Mrs. Hodgson, Dolly, & Chelsea all agree they do not like her but Chelsea puts on a smile whenever her sister-in-law is around while Mrs. Hodgson makes it known that she dislikes the woman, she thinks she’s beneath her son since her family does not make nearly enough $ put together between her & Mr. Hodgson

Dolly has a bf who’s a dental hygentist that she’s been dating for about 3 years but they’re both cheating on each other, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be married

She’s in office management

Chelsea fell in love with interior decorating from the moment she played with doll houses. Her grandparents made sure to send her the biggest doll houses they could find every Christmas. She’s always been in love with rearranging and picking certain items and best putting them into a space that works

She shit at drawing (she’ll leave that to the Architects) but she knows her furniture & patterns quite well

Has asked a few architects out on dates, some she worked with or stumbled across, only one seemed like it could have truly worked...I imagine him to look a bit like Henry Cavill with light facial hair (told you I’m a sucker for it, & Chelsea probably can tolerate just a bit not too much)

Yet Chelsea always has a wondering eye, she gets curious quite often which makes you wonder, is she really ready for love? To fully commit? One day she will be

It’s a competitive field and when she’s ready to battle she will but there are moments when she gets let down & has to pick herself up again

Has ADHD, goes to therapy for it & hates taking her meds. She’d rather stick to therapy sessions since it’s always nice to talk to someone

When she was younger she probably stole a friend or two’s bf & would definitely get mad if they did it back to her but they somehow still end up being friends in the end? Yikes

Hung out with the popular kids, was always at the parties making sure everyone was having a good time. Filling up the cups, directing where furniture should be moved, where the kegs should go, how many people should be there, etc...She doesn’t seem like the stuck up type like her mother but she is privileged & doesn’t realize it as much

Was a cheerleader & ran track, quit track to commit full-time to cheerleading since that kept her in shape enough

Dated here & there, had one bf where they would scream at each other and wouldn’t allow the other to leave or would be upset that the other didn’t come after them...yeah one of those couples

Broke up with her goth bf because he didn’t tell her he wasn’t coming to school for about a week; he had the stomach flu

Canon: Took a computer course in high school & in uni & found out she was at the top of her class for typing the fastest, she now loves the sound of her short pink ombré nails on the keys

Canon: Wanted to be a show jumper due to her mother’s side of the family & their history with horses

Goes to the stables every now & then, there’s one horse there that she’s absolutely in love with & loves to ride. Her father always offered to buy it for her but it’s not a animal she wants to own

Canon: loves finger foods + will get full off them at events quickly. She also doesn’t mind the tiny portions of food at expensive ass restaurants, it’s just enough for her

Takes hair supplements. Probably had long hair growing up that she always kept up in a bun or ponytail but decided to start chopping her hair off & getting layers & highlights which damaged her hair

Approves of plastic surgery

Is part of the itty bitty titty community & got a lift for them

Gets lip fillers for her bottom lip but isn’t a fan of needles + overlines her top lip

loves going to the dermatologist, the spa for facials & whatever else she’s willing to try & finding new skincare to buy

Tans & loves tropical hot summers

Buys an overload of bikinis even in the winter

Hates the rain, it messes with her mood

Loves a good lipstick & lipgloss combo, nudes & pinks are her to go to’s

Fav color is pink

Got herself a guinea pig after the show & named her “bubbly” after her baby in the villa

I feel like she would eventually get a tiny dog too

Has her own flat, that’s quite far from all of her family. She loves her dysfunctional problematic family but Chelsea likes her space from them too

Since buckinghamshire’s culture is more of a Middle Ages style, Chelsea made sure her home wouldn’t hold much of that style inside. It needed to be lively! Her family home was filled with dark wood & she can’t stand that

She loves going to the markets tho. She always seems to leave with something & either finds herself not liking it months later and ends up selling whatever item caught her interest

Her family tends to pop in whenever they want, especially her mother

Canon: talks about cat cafe’s when she’s drunk, says its her version of the chocolate factory + she’s the dancing drunk

Always down for a girls night out, girls trip & girls sleepovers

Probably goes to bed early around 10pm or earlier m if she’s not out having the time of her life, which makes her regret her choices the next morning

All her closest friends back home are a group of girls

Hangs out with Priya, Marisol, & Hope from the villa whereas the rest she’ll mostly communicate with them through socials or gatherings

Will host gatherings & expect them ALL to show up

Is dramatic when things don’t go her way

Loses focus more than gets bored in relationships? She’ll find other things or people to occupy her time which she doesn’t realize can be hurtful to others

When she does realize she hurts someone, she immediately wants to fix it

Canon: Is a blabbermouth. Cannot hold a secret for shit, also cannot tell a lie. Her body language gives it away first if she doesn’t spill it

Retail therapy is the best therapy if she doesn’t have a office appointment

Any spice girl song will be her karaoke song, she is always baby spice

Loves her Prosecco (me too sis!) & keeps plenty bottles in her wine fridge. She originally wanted a space with a wine cellar but got creeped out at the thought since it’s just her & bubbly living in the home

Has high cell phone bills, the girl loves a good chat

Cannot cook no matter how hard she tries. She’s been to cooking classes with an ex, watched videos, order from those food delivery sites to prepare food & it just never turns out well

Will spend hours in furniture stores, she’s had to be escorted out pass closing hours by security guards before & manage to make friends out of them. They all know who she is in majority of the stores she enters

Throws a party every time her following goes up. There’s never not a reason to throw one

Was upset that Carl unfollowed her once and figured Hannah made him do it. Which wasn’t true, Hannah was sure of herself now & doesn’t feel the need to be jealous, the man could follow whoever he wanted—she knew he barely stayed on IG in the first place. He thought it was too shallow

So when Chelsea called him one night sobbing he was utterly confused, he didn’t understand why a follow meant so much

He reluctantly followed her back

Thrilled to know Elijah, Lucas, & Carl all keep up with her. Oh & the rest of the boys ofc!

Chats with Jakub! They also hang out. They’re a bit of a odd pairing but they get along well, he’s basically another big brother to her but she actually likes him—

Afraid of the dark, keeps fairy lights lit throughout the night in her bedroom, keeps scent infused night lights in her hallways

Believes in feng shui

I feel like her voice is soft like jennifer Tilly’s?

Idk what her sun sign is? Is she a sag far as daydreaming cause she does that. I KNOW she has Leo in her chart, she’s dramatic, warm, likes to be admired & appreciated. Sun sign I need help? Maybe she’s a Sagittarius sun? + Leo moon + libra rising

Has a collection of celeb gossip magazines that she keeps on a stand next to her pink velvet chair beside her bow window

I think she will be the first islander that gets pregnant tbh & it’s by an architect (the guy I mentioned/envisioned that’s been waiting on her to realize he can give her the love she needs or prove he can balance her out) or firefighter or someone “manly” she wouldn’t end up with a islander I don’t think

she has a girl & names her, “adore”

Canon: Still wants 5 kids but we’ll see how that goes & if it’ll change, it’s been a bit difficult not drinking Prosecco but she’s got a lovely baby out of it

Crushes? Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Alfred Enoch, Alex Pettyfer, Joe Cole, Gregg Sulkin, Frank Dillane, Charlie Rowe, & Hero Fiennes Tiffin

Can listen to anything that’s got a good beat. But we all know she’s a pop & folk genre lover. She listens to: Astrid S, Maty Noyes, Cher Lloyd, Bebe Rexha, Allie X, Poppy, POST MALONE, etc.

Anthem? Gabrielle Aplin — Until the sun comes up

[saharamae21]

All of My Wrongs - Chapter 6

Pairing: Topper x OC and Rafe x OC

Summary: Aurora finds herself enjoying her time getting to know Rafe. She likes spending time with him and forgetting about the world around them. It can never be that simple though. As her day continues on, the darkness that has surrounded her life begins to overwhelm her once again. 

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: I really, really want feedback on this fic. I know only a couple people really like it and I’m debating on whether or not I want to continued to post it. I love this fic, but if it isn’t the content you guys want to see, I change my focus for you guys.

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I cuddled into his arms in the morning, the sunlight blinding my eyes as I flickered them open. Rafe was still fast asleep next to me. Waking up next to him was so different than waking up next to Topper. I yawned, stretching out a little bit before turning my back to the illuminated window. I closed my eyes, feeling Rafe’s arms pull me back towards him. His chest pressed firmly against my back as he began to wake up.

“Morning,” he muttered. I hummed in response, not wanting to wake up just yet. He nestled his face into the crook of my neck, cuddling into me even further. His hot breath against my skin sent shivers down my spine. “I should go.”

The vibrations of his words tickled my skin. I grabbed onto his arms as they loosed around me. I flipped over to face him. His blue eyes stared down at me with a certain glimmer. He tightened his hold on me again.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked quietly. I looked down and away from his gaze. He was so close to me and I began to feel a bit self conscious of his focused stare. He nodded and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead as if to say, thank you for caring. Everything just seemed to be moving so quickly and I was caught off guard. I looked back up to him and noticed that his stare was different from that first night. His eyes now showed admiration in them and that worried me. I didn’t want to disappoint him.

“I should really go before we get caught,” he said.

“You make it sound like we're doing something scandalous,” I teased. His large hand began to rub circles on the small of my back as he laughed at me. The way he looked at me scared me. He looked completely infatuated with me, but he didn’t know how I disappointed everyone. He didn’t know that I would only show him what he wanted to see until I couldn’t keep the act up anymore.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” he asked. I nodded and gave him a small smile. He smiled back at me before slipping out of bed. I watched as he slipped out undetected and cuddled into my comforter. My bed felt so empty now.

It was crazy that last week I never would’ve considered getting into bed with a boy, but now I’ve just gotten so used to it. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Rafe’s arms around me again, but as I pictured someone, Topper came to mind. His arms around me, holding me like he needed me by his side and the way his eyes looked into mine filled my head. Just the thought sent my heart into a frenzy. I was too tired to push them out of my mind, so I just fell back asleep instead.

“Rory…?” a voice asked as a knock rang through my room. I shot up and let out a yawn. “Rory!”

“What?” I yelled as Skipper continued to knock. He opened my door after my response and looked at me. I stared at his uneasy state and knew immediately what was up. He told me about how mom was in another one of her moods. He let out an annoyed sigh and looked at me to do something. I told him to go outside and find something to do. He didn’t have to witness what was about to go on. He stared at me for a second and nodded. I called out for him to head to the beach and make some friends. I didn’t want him to worry.

After he was gone, I slipped into the master bedroom. My parents room was clean and meticulous. For as long as I could remember, everything in the house was set up to be perfect. The items had a spot and if they weren’t there, it was the end of the world. I opened the draw of the nightstand, but nothing was inside. I knew at that moment that she wasn’t taking her meds. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I dug around, careful not to take something out of its assigned spot without putting it back exactly how it was. Finally, I found the bottle of antidepressants and walked down the steps, turning the bottle over in my hand.

She knew by the look on my face. She was sitting at the table with a full plate of food in front of her and this expression on her face that I knew all too well. I pulled a chair out at the table and listened to her tell me to go away. I didn’t though.

“Mom,” I said, my eyes pleading with her. I placed the bottle on the table. “You know you have to take them.”

“I’m the mom here!” she said, getting defensive. She slapped the bottle off of the table, causing me to flinch. It was worse than Skip had let on. This wasn’t just a mood, this was one of her extremes. She ran her hands through her hair anxiously and I watched as her left eye twitched ever so slightly. I wonder how long she had avoided taking them. “I’m getting better, I don’t need them!”

“Mom, you don’t just get better. It’s okay to not be okay,” I said calmly. Her eyes stared at me coldly as I tried to comfort her. She went on her usual tangent about how she was fine without them. I watched as the emotions overloaded inside of her. I watched as she allowed them to get the best of her. “Mom, you need to take them.”

“I don’t need them! I was fine until I had you!” she shouted. I felt my heart drop like it always did when she said things like that. I looked down and made myself small. “You and Skipper did this to me! You made me like this…”

I got up, unable to look at her right now. I silently walked over to the bottle lying on the ground and leaned over to pick it up. I stared at the fluoxetine pills in the bottle and closed my hand around it. I listened to her tell me to get out. I listened to her yell at me, but I knew that I was the only one to look after her now. I walked over, not looking at her once.

“Just take them. Please, mom…” I said as I set the bottle on the table again. She screamed at me to get out as tears fell down her face. I bit my lips together and nodded, leaving the bottle next to her. I turned my back on her and walked out, hearing her sigh as I left.

I made my way out to the dock and sat down, hugging my knees to my chest. I thought about how she was doing so well. I wondered if it was my fault. I hadn’t been home much and I had abandoned my home personality for the most part. I closed my eyes and tried to remember which Aurora my mom liked the most.

“Rory, come here,” my dad called. He was holding little Skipper as he knelt down to be on my level. I was too little to pick up on the bad energy that surrounded him. He looked me in the face and told me to be strong. “Mommy isn’t herself right now and we have to be patient with her. You can do that right?”

I remember nodding as he smiled at me. He stared lovingly at me and told me that I was his little girl. I didn’t understand how serious the situation was, but mom was never the same after that. She began to get irritable and lashed out at us. I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong.

The weeks after Skipper was born were the worst. She cried all the time. Everytime I brought Skipper over to her, she yelled at me. She would scream at me to get away from her and to not bring Skip anywhere near her. She would tell me that she didn’t want me near her…

As time passed, things got a little better. About a year after Skip was born, she started to seem back to normal. She lashed out less, but she still went into these states of silence. She would sit and stare at the wall with this glossed over look on her face. Dad would comfort her, but she never let me close. It wouldn’t be normal again until I begin to change. Everytime she would fall into these “moods” I would adapt to what she wanted. I would change myself to be what she needed at that moment because I couldn’t cope with a mom who didn’t want anything to do with me.

I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks as I snapped out of my daydream. I heard my name being called from a ways away and stood up, hugging myself. I wiped my tears out of my eyes quickly and turned to see Topper looking for me. He walked over in a state of panic.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked. My body language was much different as I faked a smile. I had made myself smaller and my arms tightly hugged my torso in an attempt to comfort myself. I wondered if he would notice a change, but he didn’t.

“I fucked up,” he muttered. I tried to push my own problems away in order to help him with his, but they lingered in the back of my mind. I listened to him tell me that he went over to Sarah’s house in order to confess his love for her. I listened to the desperation in his voice. I sat there following along in his story. “I-I was angry and I lashed out. I said things and called her things that I didn’t mean.” I bit my lips together, realizing that nothing I had said to him that night had gotten through to him. He was still pining for Sarah Cameron even though she clearly didn’t want him back. “She cheated on me,” he muttered. I could see all of his broken pieces. “She cheated on me with a pogue of all people. What does he have that I don’t?”

“Topper,” I said, grabbing his wrists to get his attention. His eyes looked down into mine and they looked the same as that night. “This isn’t what you're going to want to hear, but it’s what you need to hear. If she doesn’t see your true value, then she isn’t worth it. You’re amazing, Topper. You should have to change yourself to feel love, it should just come naturally.”

Everything I was saying to him applied to him. He was amazing and I didn’t want to watch him camouflage the way I did in order to please people who didn’t care about him. I sighed and looked down, breaking all contact between us.

“Stop blaming yourself and stop selling yourself short,” I said, staring at the wood beneath my feet. “You’re so much more than you can even see.”

“Aurora…” he mumbled. He stared down at me as I avoided his gaze. I could feel his eyes on me, but I was too overwhelmed with emotion to meet them. I just wanted him to realize that he was more than what he gave himself credit for. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” I said. I told him that he should go take his mind off it. He nodded and went on his way, looking back a few times at me as he left. I wondered if he noticed that I was sad. I wondered why he didn’t ask me if I was okay. Maybe he just didn’t notice or maybe he just didn’t care.

I sat back down on the dock and watched the water ripple beneath me. The crystal clear water reflected an image of myself. The girl painted on the water looked scared and helpless. She was lost and trapped underneath the waves. She looked like she was drowning. Much like my reflection in the mirror, something dark loomed around her. It wasn’t a ghost this time, it was this black fog. It surrounded her and weighed me down, not allowing her to get out of the water. It was killing her slowly.

“You okay, kiddo?” my dad’s voice rang out. I looked at him as he sat down next to me. He gave me a comforting smile as he examined my troubled look. “It isn’t your fault, Rory. She’s just not healthy. It isn’t yours or Skip’s fault.” “I know,” I said. I told him that, but I didn’t believe it. I was the reason she was like this. My birth triggered it all. She became sad after my birth. I disappointed her and I’ve kept disappointing her my entire life...

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Tag List: @outerbankslut @jellyfishbeansontoast @jiaraendgame @bricksatanakinswindow @outerbongs @kiarascarreras @ilovejjmaybank @potterheadhollander @spilledtee​ @queenieloveswriting​ @multifandomlovess​ @starlightstarkey​ @tomhardybby​ @diverdcwn​ @sadcupofcoffee​ @maybanksbaby​ @teenagekook​

[wellimaginethat]

Bruises: Chapter 2

SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 5 FINALE OF CHICAGO MED!!!

Pairing: Crockett Marcel x (female) Reader

Word Count: 3121

Author’s Note: SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 5 FINALE!!! This happened because of Chicago Med’s season finale. I got this idea and it just stuck. I couldn’t shake it so I had to write it. (I know I said it would be posted at 21:00/9PM central time but I was playing cards with my mom, sorry!)

Trigger Warning(s): MENTION OF CHILD’S DEATH (Dr. Marcel’s daughter, Harper), ABANDONMENT, divorce, CAR ACCIDENT, MENTION OF BLOOD (in later chapter), slight injury (in later chapters), hospital stay (in later chapters), bad medical knowledge because I’m not a doctor (yet, maybe someday, lol), Dr. Manning is a noisy brat (no hate, maybe a little shade, but no full on hate), DEPRESSION (in later chapters), mention of alcohol abuse, mentions of self harm (in later chapters)

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: This is probably, kinda, sorta AU because I’ve missed some of Chicago Med (the others too due to work) so I’m just going based off what I know and research (which has come up that we don’t know much about Marcel’s past, other than this shocking new tidbit). Also, the name is from the song Bruises by Lewis Capaldi, which is the song I was listening to while writing this

Y/N = Your Name

Y/EC = Your Eye Color

~ I've been told, I've been told to get you off my mind; But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind ~

You didn’t know what to expect. Whether you thought he would call you or not, which led to a lot of pacing back and forth in your hotel room. You actually hoped he would call, having decided that if anything, you would at least be able to bury the lingering feelings so you could officially move on.

You figured Crockett already moved on, and you didn’t blame him, you were the one that actually left.

Part of you wondered if you had stayed, if your marriage would have survived. If you would have been able to work it out, grieved Harper and moved forward together. You wondered if he would’ve stopped staying out so late, if he would’ve stopped avoiding you.

You then started to think of how nice it would have been if you guys could have worked it out and gone back to how things had been before everything happened, sure it wouldn’t have been exactly the same, but back to how loving you two had been towards each other.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you were startled when your phone started buzzing on the bed. You grabbed it to look at who was calling you and were greeted by a number you didn’t know, hoping it was your estranged husband, you slide the answer button across the screen and put the phone up to your ear.

Pausing to take a breath before you said anything, you prepared yourself for it to be him, but you were also ready for it to be a telemarketer. “Hello?”

“Y/N?” Once his voice came across the line, your chest tightened and you forgot how to breath. It almost felt like when you first started seeing each other, how you’d get all excited just by his voice. “Hello? Y/N?”

You cleared your throat. “Sorry, bad reception, you kept breaking out.” You lied, not wanting him to think you were the giant dork you were. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually call me.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to leave your number.” Came his response with a slight chuckle.

You smiled, glad that he didn’t seem upset right now.

“So do you actually want to talk or are we just going to make small talk again?” You could hear the apprehension in his voice.

“I want to talk. Like actually talk. I think the only way for us to fully move on and leave things in the past is for us to talk.” You responded, trying to swallow around the sudden lump in your throat.

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Do you want to have this conversation over the phone or are you free to grab a cup of coffee?”

“I could get behind grabbing coffee.” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“Do you want to meet up tonight or tomorrow morning?” He asked after you told him the hotel you were staying at.

“What would work better for you?”

“I think I’d have more time tonight, I have to be at the hospital pretty early tomorrow.”

“Then tonight’s fine. Want me to meet you there?”

He paused. “Do you need a ride? Since your car…” He trailed off.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about my car being totaled. Great.” You sighed. “No, I can get a cab.”

“Cabs are expensive.”

“Really? I haven’t really noticed, they didn’t seem that bad.” You said offhandedly, then after you heard him sigh, you stopped. “If you want to give me a ride, you can pick me up at the Dayside Hotel.”

“I can be there in a half hour, I’d like to go home and change first.”

“Okie dokie.” You replied with a smile, then mentally kicked yourself. “I’ll see you then, I’ll meet you out front.”

You were pretty sure you heard him breath out a laugh, like he was trying to suppress it. “Alright, I’ll see you then.” And with that, he hung up.

You made sure the call was over before tossing your phone back onto the bed and falling forward on it, groaning. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” You huffed to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for letting yourself daydream before the phone call, and for letting yourself get flustered by his voice. You knew you needed to get this over with and get out of Chicago and put some distance between the two of you before you got yourself hurt.

You pushed yourself off the bed and went into the bathroom to take a look at yourself, leaning towards the mirror to make sure your makeup was still decent, then you ran your hands through your hair. You didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard, but you didn’t want to look like you just rolled out of bed either.

After you were done getting ready, you still had twenty-eight minutes to kill before he was supposed to be there. You just then realized that you should have insisted on taking a cab, because you started to doubt that he’d want to give you a ride back after your talk.

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

He was there right on time, you started to walk towards his car as he drove into the hotel’s parking lot. As soon as you got to his car, you took a deep breath before opening the door to get in. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He greeted you, waiting until you were in the car and buckled up before he pulled out of the parking lot. “How’re you feeling?” He asked

“Hmm?” You turned to look at him.

“How’re you feeling?” “Fine.” You assumed he meant because of the accident. “My head still kinda hurts and I’m still a little achy but I’m fine.”

“Good.” He nodded as he turned his full attention back to the street ahead of the car.

You nodded once before turning your attention away from him and directed it out of your window, wishing you would have just taken a cab, it wouldn’t have been so awkward. And it was going to be even more awkward if he did give you a ride back to the hotel.

Soon enough he was parking the car on the side of the street, you couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, practically throwing yourself out once it was in park.

He walked over to the meter and put a few quarters in. “I think I have some quarters.” You piped up, going to dig in your purse.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it.” He told you with a small smile, turning his attention away from you to finish what he was doing.

You nodded reluctantly and stood there a bit idly, waiting for him to finish so you could head in to the coffee shop and get this over with.

He walked over to you once he was done and motioned for the two of you to carry on up the sidewalk towards the coffee shop.

You began walking and he fell into step next to you, neither of you talking yet.

Once the two of you got to the coffee shop, he hurried a step ahead of you to open the door for you.

“Still the same gentleman you always were, I see.” You commented with a bit of a smile and he nodded to you, letting you walk in before following you into the coffee shop.

You headed over to the counter to order your coffee, and you made sure to have your card ready to swipe it before he could even think about trying to pay for the coffee.

“I would have gotten it.” He told you.

“And that’s why I made sure to be ready.” You smirked a bit.

“Y/N.” He sighed.

“Crockett.” You retorted in the same tone of voice.

You could see him slowly give up this silly argument and you felt a small sense of victory.

“Don’t look so smug, I’m just trying to keep you in a good mood so you don’t run out.” He told you under his breath as soon as the barista turned away.

You huffed as you frowned up at him, getting ready to throw a snide comment when you stopped yourself. “Well a victory is still a victory either way and I won this argument.” You tell him in a soft voice, meaning it as a joke.

He heard the slight humor in your voice and smiled down at you.

The minute his eyes met yours, your heart clenched and you had to turn away, facing back toward the front counter, waiting for your drinks.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the barista make your drink and bring it over, she handed your drink over to you.

You took it and turned to Crockett. “I’m going to grab a table.” You just didn’t want to stand there next to him and pretend this isn’t awkward.

He nodded to you as he waited for his coffee.

You found a table near the wall, away from the others sitting in the coffee shop, and took a seat. He joined you within moments and took a seat across from you, you could feel his eyes on you but your eyes were trained on your drink.

“So are we going to talk or are we going to sit here in silence?” He asked after a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you.

Your Y/EC eyes met his brown ones, and you nodded. “Yeah, just trying to figure out where to start.” You breathed out. “I don’t know how to start.”

“The beginning would probably be a good start.” He commented, not taking his eyes away from yours. “I’ve asked you twice now why you left, and while you did answer me, you could probably elaborate on that.”

You sighed. “I don’t-” You stopped and ran a hand through your hair, looking away from him for a moment before looking back at him. “I don’t know how.” You tell him honestly. “I don’t know how to explain what was going through my head at that time. All I know is that I felt like you stopped caring about me. It felt like you shut down completely. Harper died and you cut me out.” You stopped yourself and looked out the big front window, willing yourself not to cry. Your eyes were filling with tears but you blinked them away, you didn’t want to draw attention to the two of you by crying.

“I never stopped caring about you.” He whispered out, his hand coming across the table to rest on top of yours.

You looked back at him. “It sure seemed like it.” You replied quietly. “You were never there. You left me at the hospital and then you were never home and it felt like you just...shut down.”

“I did.” He said quietly. “But I didn’t stop caring about you. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to grieve her and be there for you.”

“I wanted us to grieve her together. I was scared of losing you too. I was scared that one night you weren’t going to come back home.”

He stopped. So that was what you had meant, not that he was going to find someone else. “When you said that yesterday I assumed you meant that I’d find someone else.” He admitted quietly.

“Well I was afraid of that too.” You admitted just as quietly, a bit sheepishly in fact. You sighed. “It was always a fear. But I was more worried that something was going to happen to you, you were drinking every night and you were grieving on top of that, I was worried something bad was going to happen.”

He nodded to you before sighing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“And I’m sorry I left.” You told him honestly, your eyes meeting his. “But there’s not much we can do about it now, it’s in the past.”

He nodded. “But we can still talk about this.”

“Or maybe we can just leave it at that and move on.” You didn’t even realize you had said it until you saw his expression turn into a pained one, but he quickly masked it. You swallowed hard. “I think we owe it to ourselves to leave the past in the past and move on, to part ways on good terms and go our separate ways.”

He was quiet for a moment, studying your face before he finally spoke. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” You breathed out the lie with a definitive nod. “Yes, I think that’s what’s best.”

“But is that what you want?” He asked again.

You paused, it wasn’t what you wanted, but you weren’t going to go down that rabbit hole. “Yes.”

He nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.” You could see the change in his demeanor, he straightened up, slowly pulling his hand away from yours. “We can get some divorce papers drawn up and sign them, it shouldn’t be too difficult since we’ve already been separated for seven years and living separate lives.”

You cleared your throat and nodded. “All we’d have to do is sign the papers and then it’ll be over and we won’t have to worry about it anymore.” You gave a halfhearted shrug. “I, um, I’m gonna go.” You said quietly after a moment. “I’ll just get a cab back to the hotel.” You stood up.

“Y/N.” He stood up, only to be met with you holding a hand out to stop him, shaking your head.

“It’s fine.” You said quietly, heading towards the door. You were looking back as you walked out, seeing him sit back in his chair, and ended up running right into someone. You quickly turned to face them. “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay?” You asked the woman in front of you quickly, recognizing her as the female doctor that Crockett was talking to earlier, this must be a frequent coffee spot for the hospital staff, or maybe it was their place. You felt a twinge of pain at that thought but pushed it away.

The brunette smiled at you and waved it off. “It’s fine.” She assured you. “You’re Crockett Marcel’s wife, right?”

You cleared your throat. “Soon to be ex wife, yes.” You nodded to her, hating the sound of it.

“Oh.” She seemed shocked by that statement. “I thought the two of you were going to work it out.”

You tilted your head and raised a brow at her. “Why would you assume that?” You hoped that didn’t sound as rude as you feared it did.

“Well, he just...seemed like he wasn’t over you.” She said uneasily, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business.”

“It’s not.” You replied with a slight shrug. “But you two seem to be friends, so it’s okay.” You brushed it off. “What do you mean he seemed like he wasn’t over me?”

“Well when we were talking earlier, when he thought you left without saying anything, he was hurt.” She told you.

“Oh.” You barely spoke out as you looked around a bit, shocked by this new information and not sure what to do with it. “I’m sorry, I’m Y/N.” You offer out your hand to shake hers, which she does.

“Natalie.” She told you with a smile, releasing your hand.

“Well Natalie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry if I’m not more friendly, I’m just…”

“Going through a lot, obviously.” Her smiled turned warmer, almost knowingly.

You nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Well with everything that’s going on, plus the car accident you were in, I can imagine you might be a little frazzled.” Natalie commented with a slight shrug.

You nodded again. “Yeah…” You trailed off, a slight silence falling between the two of you and you were getting ready to make your exit.

“Again, I know this is none of my business, but if you still care about Crockett, I think you should talk to him. You guys might be able to work it out, if that’s what you want of course, because I’m pretty sure that’s what he wants.” It was obvious that she knew this was none of her business, and it was obvious that she was overstepping, but you couldn’t be mad because it was obvious that she was just trying to help.

You offered her a smile. “I’d love nothing more than to fix my marriage, but I don’t see that happening. There’s a lot of hurt there and I don’t think we’d be able to move past it.” That was a lie, you wondered if it was obvious. “And I don’t want to cause him any more pain than I already have.”

She nodded, she looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t.

You smiled a bit wider at her. “It was nice meeting you, Natalie, but I should really get going.” You stepped away then. You heard the door open as you were walking away and spared a glance back to see your husband step out, you had expected it to just be Natalie walking in. You quickened your pace, not wanting him to try to stop you from catching a cab.

Crockett saw you retreating from the cafe, then saw Natalie standing there, looking like she had just meddled.

“You should go after her.” Natalie told him, looking up at him with a friendly smile.

He looked at her for a moment before sighing. “Listen, I know you’re just trying to help, but don’t. She obviously doesn’t want to talk, much less work things out.”

“But she does.” Natalie insisted softly, still looking up at him. “I just talked to her and she does.”

“Please just stay out of it.” Crockett sighed.

Natalie sighed then too. “Fine, I will, but not before I say this. I just talked to her and she wants to work things out, she’s just scared.”

“And did she tell you what she’s scared of.”

“Being hurt and hurting you more than what’s already been done.” Natalie told him. “Don’t give up, you have a chance to work things out and get her back. I know if it was me and I had a chance to get my husband back, I’d do whatever it took.” She spoke softly, reaching out to squeeze his arm before stepping around him and walking into the coffee shop, leaving him standing there on the sidewalk alone with his thoughts.

[homogrimoire-archive]

Kingfield's Fourth Anniversary - Day 5

Dream, Memory, Reality.

David and Dwight each dream a wonderful dream. Later, they find themselves in a trial against a new killer, one who proves to be more cruel than anticipated. They don't survive her wretched performance.

[And hey, read the tags for warnings.]

AO3 Link

David lay curled up against Dwight. He was so warm and soft. The bed was comfortable, but perhaps only because Dwight was there to embrace him. Dwight placed a soft kiss in the crook of David's neck, a hum of approval following. He shifted under the blankets to be closer. This was nice. There was a feeling so unfamiliar, yet so lovely, that David hoped he would never forget it.

-

Dwight was walking next to David taking in the new sights and sounds. It was a beautiful day as they walked down the street. It was alive with hustle and bustle, but not crowded. Then, Dwight noticed that David grazed his hand against his. He apologized, blushing, but Dwight took the opportunity to seize his partner's hand. He gently raised it and placed a kiss on it. Looking straight into the other man's eyes, he confidently reassured David that had nothing to fear. They continued their walk, feeling much more content than before. This feeling was something to live for.

-

Then, David woke up. This dream another reason to pine for him in waking hours. He knew he wouldn't be forgetting it anytime soon now. He turned to face the other way, to face the still sleeping Dwight. He was cute, lightly snoring as drool dripped from the side of his mouth. He turned once more. It was only safe to indulge in his dreams. He didn't need any more reason to want to ruin their friendship. There was only one Dwight to be friends with, and David wasn't good at making friends.

-

Dwight awoke later, remembering that small part of a larger dream a moment later. He let out a suppressed sigh in dismay. In front of him lay David sprawled out on his back, chest rising and falling softly. His rose tattoo was clearly visible. Dwight felt the urge to want to kiss that tantalizing spot once more. It was so inviting, begging to be kissed and intimately adored. So close, yet so far away. No matter. It wasn’t the first time he fell for someone he had no chance with. Dwight stood awake, daydreaming something that would remain his dream.

-

Another. This dream, one of a familiar feeling. No, this was a distant memory. One caressed the other’s cheek, gazing into the other’s eyes with such adoration. They closed their eyes, and slowly leaned in, closing the distance between their faces until their lips met. It was a wonderful feeling.

And then, the memory dissolved.

Dwight was immediately hit with a blade to his shoulder. He screamed out in pain as he fell, the killer proceeding to carry him bridal style. That’s right, this was a trial, one with a new killer and survivor to learn about. This killer a beautiful songstress with an affinity for roses and toying with people with their memories.

A hook was nearby, so he didn’t bother to try and escape. He just mentally prepared himself for the pain that was to come. Of course, that didn’t do much good. She gave him a smile a kind of sadistic, mad smile wouldn't expect from a woman such as herself. But, looks can be deceiving. She turned from him and resumed her beauteous song.

On the bright side, the new astronaut among them seemed to be faring well, and Quinten’s experience against The Nightmare proved to translate well against The Songstress. Dwight just hoped David would fare well. As much as Dwight didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t think David had the kind of strength needed to face a killer like this. But he evidently didn't either.

It was then he noticed The Entity’s claws beginning to form. That wasn’t right. She didn’t show up so soon. Dwight began to panic. He could still hear her song well, so she was still nearby a rescue would be dangerous, especially given that the full extent of her powers were unknown. He tried to unhook himself, but failed, inciting more pain and spurning The Entity faster. He began to hyperventilate. He didn’t want to die again. He had heard of how hard David would take it, seen the aftermath of his demise. He didn’t want to feel that nothingness in him that stole away even sadness. And what if The Entity finally tired of him. He had been there so long. Surely he would be one of the first she would discard. And then he would never-

“Hey, I’ve got you luv.” David comforted as he began to unhook Dwight. Then, they heard a deafening crescendo that traveled throughout the entire mansion, stopping David in his tracks so he could cover his ears. Dwight covered his ears as well, the pain from the hook persisting.

Even more rushed, David hurried and unhooked Dwight. They traversed the maze of a mansion to put some distance between them and The Songstress. Panting, they came to rest in a finely furnished room, the song a now distant echo. She was a powerful foe indeed, but she certainly wasn’t gonna be sneaking up on anyone without memories to incapacitate them.

“Here, let me take care a you.” David offered, and began to patch Dwight’s shoulders with his med kit.

“Thanks David.” Dwight said, wincing at the ebbing pain.

"Welcome, mate. … Aaaaand there. All patched up, mate." David told him with a friendly slap to the back one they got up. Dwight smiled at him, and David smiled back, each wishing for something more.

"Right." Dwight said, clearing his throat after. They left the room in search of a generator. Only two remained.

"So, we know she uses our memories to slow us down, a knife, and The Entity generates a lot faster on hooks, but it resets each time. I think that's because of her song." Dwight theorized. "And then there was when she stunned us with her voice…"

"Well, I'd say we've faced worse." David said, and spotted a generator.

Dwight gave a short laugh. "Yeah, I'd say so too." A feral woman who seemed to have the blessings of Artemis, a nurse who showed up without warning like an apparition, a whole alien filled with determined bloodlust, a demon who used their blood against them. She was just another singing small fry.

They worked on the generator together in quiet focus. As her song grew closer, the duo hurried, and their hearts began to hasten. Then, another crescendo that forced them to cover their ears.

“Shite.”

“Fuck, come on hurry up…”

Almost complete! They were intent on finishing it, lest she reverse some of their progress. The generator hummed to autonomous life, and the two made a run for it. One gen left. They exited the room and saw her down the hall. They ran in the other direction, dropping a pallet along the way. They then split up when the hallways diverged. The song began to decrease in volume, and David assumed she decided to hunt Dwight. Yet, just down the hall, a minute or so later, he caught a glimpse of someone who was unmistakably Dwight limping round a corner.

“Dwight! Hold up mate, ’m coming’ to ya!” he shouted. If Dwight got hooked one more time, that was it for him. David couldn’t have that. He rounded the corner, but there was no Dwight in sight. No blood on the floor either.

“Right. Memories. Bloody memories…” That would take some getting used to. The memories of their life before seemed to be easier to break out of. But these memories from within the realm were much more devious and difficult to discern from reality. Made her more worthy of the title of Trickster than that Korean songster. David just hoped Dwight was alright.

Just as the last generator sounded, David heard a scream he wished he wasn’t familiar with. Defeated, he ran for the exit gate. He waited to hear the entity take him away, but the despicable sound did not come. When he noticed that, he felt a spark of hope. David ran into Quinten and had him open the exit gate while he went for Dwight and kept the killer busy. Time was of the essence. Third hook was a death sentence, but this killer seemed to have a way with hooks and The Entity.

He ran in the direction he saw Dwight’s aura. It was at a lower level, so he had to descend a set of stairs into the basement. It looked like a common basement, unbefitting of the sprawling, exorbitant mansion. But that didn't matter. All that mattered to David was getting Dwight and getting the hell out. He saw Dwight Entity's claws surrounding him, heard him shout his name, but it was too late. A thick claw pierced him, draining the life from his body before his eyes.

David screamed his name. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach, a sinking despair. Would this be the last time he ever saw Dwight? He then realized that pain just wasn't from what he saw or his emotions.

The Songstress had got him. He crumpled to the floor, and reality was revealed. The basement now looked like a decrepit version of the rest of the place. It was an open area unlike the typical basement, but had the four hooks and wardrobes in place of lockers, and a matching chest. But this place was dark, darker than he could recall basements being.

He wasn't sure what was real anymore. All he knew was that he was the last one. She picked him up and gazed at him lovingly.

"Oh, my love, you shouldn't have." she praised as she stroked the tattoo on his neck. David growled in response.

"Now, let us be together. Forever." she decreed, and kissed him. The Songstress showed him the form of a woman he dated, and caressed his face as she once did. She sensed no love as he fought back with every ounce of strength he had. Another woman, another response she didn't like. There was a desperate fear in his eyes. She quickly searched through his memories a little more deeply, and found what she was looking for.

She showed the image of a man from the memory of a dream, the same man she just so happened to sacrifice not too long ago. The sight made him gasp. She saw how vulnerable he became. First, he placed a kiss on his neck where the agreeable tattoo lay. That seemed to do the trick. He stopped resisting entirely, though for just a moment.

"Don't! Don't you focking do this to me!" he demanded. He didn’t want this.

"I love you though…" he pouted. Hearing that in his voice, David grew weak.

He pulled the dagger out from a pocket, and slowly moved from his lips from the tattoo unto David's lips. The dream memory began to make out with the struggling and conflicted man as he kept his eyes closed. The knife pierced through his clothes, and began to break through his skin When he finally opened them, he saw The Songstress, and she began to push the knife into his chest, into his heart. He struggled and screamed and cried in agony as she loved him with tender gestures, as she plunged the knife deeper into his heat ever so slowly. He was lying when he begged for her to stop. She knew he was. He always wanted her love.

The Songstress finally broke away from him, and gently laid him to rest on the floor once his flame of life was extinguished, and set a beautiful red rose on his bloodied chest. Such a beautiful memory. Such a beautiful dreamreality.

-

Dwight awoke in front of the campfire. Just him for now. He took a seat on a log, and did nothing. He heard someone else approach. They sat down next to him.

"Hey."

"Hey."

It was David. Dwight surmised he too didn't make it out alive. Either Quinten and the new guy Heintz would show up soon, or they were already out on another trial.

Dwight noticed that David rested his head on his shoulder, and let out a sigh. Neither man felt anything about the situation. They only stared at the fire. Just them two, for a long time before David spoke up.

"I think I saw The Entity take you." David stated. "Did I?"

"No. The third hook didn't take me right away, but it did eventually. You weren't there when it happened." Dwight blankly clarified.

"Hmph. Guess she did fool me then."

Dwight immediately picked up on the implication. He offered no comfort. He didn't feel any sorrow for the man after all.

Slowly, over the next few hours, Dwight began to feel himself return to normal. That often came with the feeling of the weight of the trial hitting him. He knew David was going through the same. He had since taken his head off the smaller man's shoulder.

"I take back what I said earlier. She's the worst." David declared with a seething hatred.

"She made me see my family. We had some happy memories together, and she used them against me." Dwight said, the hurt now catching up to him. "She used memories from here too. I hate her." he growled.

"She did the same with me. Makin' me see things from 'ere, that is. Saw some stuff from back home I missed. Also saw some junk from when I still played, and…" David stopped himself from saying what he just remembered.

"And what?" Dwight asked, concerned for his friend.

"Nothing."

"David…" Dwight pleaded, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He quickly smacked it off, a look on his face that Dwight could tell was hate and desperation.

"Just focking drop it!" he yelled.

"Well fine!" Dwight snapped, and got up to sit elsewhere, and grumbled "God, I don't know why I even try sometimes…"

That anger I'm David disappeared, replaced by a familiar, sinking despair. Death need not do them apart, just himself. David wallowed in guilt, unsure of what to say. He didn't want them to be like this, but he couldn't say what he wanted to. He was scared, more than any trial had ever made him. Well, there was one thing he knew to say.

"I'm sorry." he apologized. "I shouldn't 'ave done that."

Dwight sighed. "It's alright." He didn't want to be angry at David, but he was tired of the man pushing him away, tired of wanting someone who did that to him, tired of being a weak fool who could love.

"I don't think it is."

"… Yeah. It isn't." Dwight admitted bitterly.

"She used memories of you 'gainst me. Left a bad taste in my mouth. It's not your fault."

"She used you against me too." Dwight revealed. "A memory of you hurt, a happy memory of us celebrating a victory, a memory of you from a dream… What did she do to you?

He wondered what she could have done to make him react so. David was admittedly sensitive, his denial of it is what made it so difficult to deal with, but still.

"She- … I need you to promise me something." David requested.

"What?" Dwight asked. He scooted to the edge of his log, closer to David.

"Just promise me you aren't gonna hate me after this."

"I won't hate you. I promise."

"I- I think-" he began, choking up immediately. Then, an angry growl. "Why can't I say it!?" he cried out.

Words strung together make a sentence, a gestalt. A sentence of words is that from which meaning is derived. Yet, there wasn't any  amount of words, nor no sentence, from which the entirety of what David felt could be derived. It is a familiar sentiment.

The words got stuck in his throat. A deadly gestalt that cannot convey all that is felt, and never will, threatens to choke the life out of him. He wants to live, breathe. But to free those words is to face reality. Cruel, unkind, and wretched reality. Defend the self and seal the words. The sentence a fortress that festers in bliss, safe and sound from all but itself. Or leave thy gates open and draw the bridge. Welcome the truth of reality. It isn't always cruel, unkind, and wretched. But even if it is, it's better than any lie, any dream, for it is real. There, you matter. There, you exist.

Thus, David knows he must say something. It is not like there will ever be something that conveys it all. He decides that Dwight deserves to know how he feels about him. At least that way, he can maybe stop feeling what he feels for their leader. Let reality burn the bridge as it enters. Who knows, maybe that little bit of reality is all he needs to start betterment. Maybe. He hopes for a dream to become reality all the same.

"I love you." With fear plastered on his face, he admitted this unto Dwight. Then he turned to face the dark city behind them outside the fire, and began to break down. "There I said it! He's the only one 've ever felt any love for! Are ya happy!? I said it! I'm gay! A poof! A homo! I love a man! I hope y'are god damn fockin' 'appy you bastard!" David sunk to the floor, tears flowing.

Dwight could only watch as this happened, a menagerie of his own emotions threatening to spill out as well. He thought he had come to terms with himself. Guess not. Then, an anger welled within him, a familiar one. A need to act overtook him. Once the other man seemed to be finished, he walked up beside him, and spoke.

Let reality be an unlonely place now.

"I love a man too, asshole! I- I don't give a shit if you want me to just stick with women! I fucking want to love this man! I'm bisexual! Queer! Fag! Call me whatever the fuck you want, I'm me! And don't you fucking forget it!"

David looked up to Dwight in awe as he too revealed himself. He was inspired, filled with what he could be partially describe as a revitalizing sense of comradery and elation. There was more of course, but words would never convey it all. But, these strung together sentences would have to do. For now, they were enough.

David wiped his tears, and got up. He threw an arm around Dwight who turned to see him grinning proudly.

"You hear that!? Don't you fockin' forget who he is, arsehole!"

Dwight wiped his own tears, and threw an arm around David as well. "Yeah! Don't fuckin' forget who we are!"

They shouted at that dark mirror which cast no real reflection for a long time. Laughing, crying, revelry. That and more.

-

"So, we a thing now?" David wondered, almost abashedly, as he and Dwight sat side by side on a log.

"Depends. I want us to be boyfriends. Do you?"

"Boyfriends… my boyfriend, Dwight." David said, testing the waters, inching his hand closer to Dwight's. "I do like the sound a that."

"I guess it's settled then." Dwight made the move and took David's hand in his. He brought it up, and placed a kiss on it. "We're boyfriends, and you're my boyfriend."

David blushed at the innocent act. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such gestures. But, he could very easily see himself getting used to it.

"Can we kiss? I want to kiss you." David said. He hoped he wasn't going too fast. He wanted to actually put some effort into this relationship. “I’ve wanted that for a long time now.”

"I did too. Close your eyes." Dwight requested, and David obliged.

The wait for their lips to touch seemed to be an eternity. But, the wait was worth it. It was gentle, and felt right, more right than anything had ever felt to David. He felt no dissonance in this act, only happiness. To Dwight it was all he ever wanted. Here was someone who knew who he truly was in his entirety, and still accepted him. More than accepted him. Loved him.

They kissed for a few more seconds, Dwight caressing David, savoring these feelings before parting. They looked into each other's eyes, and grinned such joyous smiles.

"I think I wanna do that again." David said, followed by a little laugh that made light burst in Dwight's chest.

"I think that could be arranged." Dwight affirmed. And arranged it was.

-

Later, the couple was sound asleep by the fire, Dwight curled around David, arms wrapped around him in embrace. For some reason, Dwight found himself awoken. Half asleep, he couldn't help but notice how enticing David's tattoo was, a prime spot to kissing.

"David?" Dwight called, hoping to not startle him.

"Mnnn… hmm? Wot is it luv?"

"Can I kiss your tattoo?" he asked.

"… You can." David agreed. He waited in anticipation. It was a soft kiss, one of true adore. David hummed approvingly. In each other's arms, they drifted back to sleep, a dreamless sleep.

[eyeless-cunt]

I’m a jack of all trades, master of none, would you care to see this Eyeless Jack x reader I’m working on?

Witness Protection

Chapter 1

The putrid scent of gas filled his nostrils, making him scrunch his nose in disgust. He always hated the highway, the loud noises, the smell of oil and the lack of trees to keep the sun out of his eyes. But as much as he hated it, he needed to be here. His next exit was almost thirty minutes away. His hands gripped the wheel, to the point that if his hands were of normal color, his knuckles would’ve gone white. He merged over to a new lane, where he would stay for the next half an hour. His gaze never wavered from what was in front of him, as usual. It was best if he didn’t look around, his large hood did well to hide the strange abnormalities that adorned his face when looked at from the side, but even a slight turn of his head would reveal his unfortunate features. His mask sat in the passenger seat, abandoned until he found a place to stay so that he could rest. Just because he was nocturnal doesn’t mean he could stay up all night. Typically, he’d hunt what he needed for the week and then head home where he could bunker down and sleep. He couldn’t do that now. The truck he drove was old and uncomfortable, and the last time he tried to sleep in it, he woke up sore in the back and with a kinked neck. He shuddered at the thought of sleeping in the clunky old thing again.

He swore his heart leapt when the exit ramp came into view. He could finally get off this godforsaken road. He turned off and drove onto the exit ramp, sighing as his senses cleared slightly. His’ eyes’ and such were still burning from all of the exhaust fumes. It was relieving that it was a short five minutes to get to the hotel from here. Five minutes passed and the hotel building came into view, its many windows bouncing light off of them and possibly blinding people below. Swiftly, he pulled into the parking lot and parked in one of the spaces. The engine’s noise died as he yanked the key out of the ignition and he leaned back in the seat. He shut his ‘eyes’, eyelids falling over empty space. It didn’t really bother him, he’d been without eyes for over a decade now. A heavy sigh left his lips and he opened his eyelids again, reaching over to the glove box and pulling out a large bottle of pills. Popping the cover off, he dumped one on his hand and took it dry, closing the plastic container and tossing it haphazardly into his backpack. He slumped in his seat and took a few deep breaths.

30 minutes pass of him just leaning back in his seat, eyes closed and breathing deeply. When he opened his eyes, the sun was slowly sinking. He brought his hands to his face and rubbed the corners of his eye sockets. Reaching up, he lowered the visor and looked at his appearance in the small mirror embedded inside. The man that stared back at him was unfamiliar. It’d been so long since he’d actually seen what he used to look like. He turned his head in different directions to make sure that all traces of grey had disappeared. Satisfied with the effectiveness of the pill, he crammed his mask into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, hopping out of the truck. He slammed the door shut and strolled to the entrance, throwing on a peaceful expression. The automatic doors whirred as they moved out of the way for him to step through. His footsteps fell silent on the carpeted floor, the rubber soles of his sneakers making no noise at all.

“Excuse me?” the lady at the front jumped in surprise. He forced himself to chuckle lightly. ‘Just act normal’ was all he told himself when it came to these things.

“Ah, yes, sorry, can I help you?” she apologized, looking up at his tall figure.

“Yep, Jack Nyras, checking in,” she nodded and he leaned on the counter, eyeing her slightly. ‘Too thin’ he thought, grimacing internally.

“Sir?” he looked her in the eyes, forgetting to put on the look he had before, leaving him with a bored expression.

“Hm?” She awkwardly slid the room card over, blushing heavily.

“You were staring…,” she murmured. He shook his head a little.

“Sorry, I zoned off,” she nodded, still looking uncertain. She handed him a small room key card and he took it, tucking it safely into the pocket of his dark jeans. Another woman came to the front and waved to the other.

“Is my shift over already?” the first raised an eyebrow. The newly arrived woman nodded. The first lady ran off and out of sight, leaving him and the new girl.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked sweetly. He stared at her for a moment, scrutinizing her appearance. She looked smart, or at least like she’d be able to know that something was up. Too thin for him, but the last bit of humanity in him told him that she wasn’t entirely useless to him. The thought made him internally sigh at himself. Fingers snapping in his face snapped him out of the trance.

“Sir, are you going to sit and stare or are you going to head to your room?” he blinked a little.

“Oh, sorry,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll head to my room now,” she nodded, waving him off. He pressed the button for the elevator and waited, thinking to himself. ‘I might have to go out of my way to hunt tonight’ was definitely a thought that went through his mind. ‘I could try and get into someone’s room.’ He nodded in approval of his thought as the elevator dinged.

“Excuse me?” a rude tone snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced up to see a man in a suit. He scanned the man over, going through a quick mental check-list and checking of all that applied. Target set.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll move,” he stepped to the side. The man grunted and headed towards the front door, dropping something on the way. The lady at the front desk jogged over in a pair of heels, stooping down to pick it up.

“Sir, you dropped this!” she called. The man turned around begrudgingly and snatched it from her rather harshly, mumbling a ‘thanks’ and walking away. She nodded and walked back to her position, frowning ever so slightly. Jack turned his attention to the elevator that was in the process of closing the doors. He quickly hopped in, pressing the button that lead to his floor. He leaned against the wall, exhaling. He was only on the third floor, so it didn’t take that long for the elevator to open its doors. Stepping out of the small box, he pulled his keycard out of his pocket, the room number written on the hard plastic. He looked around, easily spotting his room. Gripping the strap of his bag, he walked over to it, sliding the keycard into the slot and opening the door. The room was cool, the temperature change welcome in the late August heat. He still forgot why he insisted on wearing a hoodie after taking the meds. With a heavy sigh, he yanked off the thick black sweatshirt, his shirt riding up a little. He chucked the hoodie on the white sheets of the single bed, yanking his shirt back down with his free hand. He turned his attention to the window, staring at the sun as it slowly disappeared, being replaced with darkness. A quick shake of his head drove away his small trance. He unzipped his bag, pulling out a pair of clothes, stained with evidence of his last hunt. He grimaced and went to the laundry room down in the basement of the hotel.

He laid his clothes out on an ironing board, holding the laundry detergent he brought with him. Filling the cap with the liquid, he poured it on the articles of clothing and rubbed it on the stains, a trick he learned years ago. Satisfied with his work, he grabbed his clothes and threw them into the machine, going through the steps and heading back upstairs while it ran. The sky slowly began to go entirely black. Jack spent the time in between dusk and dark doing his laundry, and once he had folded them and shoved them back into his bag, he got ready for his hunt. He threw his hoodie back on, stuffing all of his supplies into the large pockets. He reached into the large backpack, pulling the navy blue mask out, running his gloved fingers over it. He slipped it on, adjusting it until any skin that once showed was no longer visible and then tugged his hood over auburn hair. He pulled his sleeve up a little, checking his skin tone. It was slowly changing back to grey, the color returning in thick tendrils. He pulled the sleeve back down and headed out of his room, on a direct route to the elevator. It made it to the bottom floor just in time for him to catch the man from before reentering the building.

Jack stepped out and then pretended he was just getting in. The man from before got in and pressed the button to his floor. Floor nine, the top floor. Jack rocked on his heels and the man looked at him, confused. They reached the floor and both men stepped out. Pretending to go the opposite direction, he waited till the man wasn’t looking to sneak up behind him and wait for him to open his door. The door swung open and the man stepped inside. The doors closed by themselves, and it appeared the man was counting on that, since he didn’t bother to shut it behind him, allowing for his follower to sneak in. The man set a bag down and sat on the bed, white sheets shifting underneath him.

He slammed the door behind himself, making sure it was as loud as possible. The man spun around, eyes widened. A sinister grin found its way on Jack’s face, and he reached into his pocket.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” the man questioned, clearly unnerved. A deep, almost animalistic chuckle rumbled through Jack’s chest.

“My identity is none of your concern, all you need to know is that screaming is strictly prohibited,” And he lunged.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You hum softly to yourself, daydreaming about nothing in particular. The ringing phone snaps you out of it and with a sigh, you pick up.

“Hello, this is [Hotel name]’s front desk attendant speaking,” You answer with fake cheeriness. They begin to talk on the other end. “Yes, of course, I’ll go tell him that you’ve called,” You hang up and check to see what floor the person they requested is on. With the information in your mind, you head to the elevator, getting in and pressing the button to said floor. It reached the floor in under a minute, and you step out, the click of your heels muffled by the carpet. You knock on the door. There is no response, so you knock harder. A scream erupts from inside, but it is quickly silenced. You fumble for the card you use to open the room doors and insert it, creaking the door open, taking in the horrid sight in front of you. You pale and the person in front of you freezes. You can’t help it, you scream.

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 5

AO3

Beta reader was @thesnadger!

Some thoughts on where to go next.

Martin is as helpful as he can be.

Their business finished, Jon and Martin exchanged a friendly “See you tomorrow” and went their separate ways. Jon turned on his heel and took the first turn out of sight. Martin, still holding his groceries, pressed his head against a nearby building and said under his breath, “God, you’re predictable. Smiles at you once and you’re done for. Must be a record.”

It had been a nice smile, though. Maybe at some point he would get to see a non-nervous one, the kind where the person’s face seems to open up like- No, he was not going to fall into poetic daydreaming, not this soon. Good lord.

He stood up straight, fixing his hair and checking for any witnesses. With the coast clear, he started the long walk home. It was fine. Martin wasn’t a complete idiot. He would accept the good news that Jon didn’t despise him and would roll with it, trying his best not to muck it up with more stupid mistakes. Then, with either their time used up or the investigation completed, all three of them would be gone.

The thought struck him hard, and Martin almost stumbled from the emotional whiplash. It had been, what, a day and a half? Surely not long enough to miss them that much, especially the person who had only just started being nice to him ten minutes ago. But Martin knew himself better than that.

Jon had been nice, just as Tim and Sasha had been nice, and he was going to miss the company when they had to leave. It was natural to feel sad about it, he told himself, but eventually their leaving would be a relief. The one-sided affection would have no room for hoping or growing otherwise. At the same time, he might as well enjoy the company of interesting people. Interesting people who wanted to help him, even! Jon had said he’d wanted to work together to figure things out, so that’s what Martin would try to do.

As long as it didn’t get him fired. As long as nothing they did fucked over any chance of employment. As long as his place of work didn’t eat him out of a hunger for vengeance.

Pushing those sour thoughts deep into the back of his consciousness, Martin focused on the morning’s events the rest of the way home. Plans of action formed in his mind, most of them related to the task at hand, a few needing to be waved away as wishful thinking. There was work to be done.

It took quite a bit of digging through crumpled and disorganized paperwork he’d saved from many unsuccessful attempts at employment, but after lunch, Martin sat on his bed with his original work contract. At the bottom was the signature of Peter Lukas, and in the bottom left corner was the stamped Lukas family crest, which Martin had seen every day on a small plaque adorning the lighthouse interior, right over his desk.

It was a simple and rather generic image of a black and white shield, framed by an albatross and a laughably inaccurate seal that Martin couldn’t help but gawk at years after he’d first seen it. He wondered if the artist responsible had had to work with someone telling them what a seal looked like from memory or if the family just hadn’t cared too much for accuracy. Based on the strange ideas Peter would spout at times of how the ocean worked, Martin would bet on the latter. Maybe the whole family was just like that?

Either way, it was equal parts ridiculous and unnerving as it lurked over Martin’s shoulder during the work day but didn’t have much use to him otherwise. He was no expert on symbolism and there was nothing he could see that would relate the crest to the task at hand.

Martin leafed through the work contract, glazing over benefits and salary before stopping on the section labeled “Employee Assignments and Other Expected Duties”.

“Sec. III. The employee agrees to the following non-exhaustive list of duties:

-Be present at the premises between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm, Monday through Friday, including lunch break. -Complete bookkeeping for the employer, Mr. Peter Lukas, using materials delivered to the premises on Monday morning. Delivery will always be completed by the employee's set arrival time at 6am. If nothing is delivered, contact the main house for further instruction to procure materials. -Clean the interior of the premises at regular intervals, including the main entrance, bathroom, kitchen, and upper floors. -Between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm, complete the maintenance list of the top floor (see Sec. IV). This must be completed once every day of the week, including Saturday and Sunday, between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm. There is a zero-tolerance policy for lack of completion. -Inform unexpected visitors of the proper procedure for scheduling a paid tour of the premises (See Sec. V) -Accept packages and sign for if necessary.

Martin looked over the list, biting his cheek. He’d grown lax on staying until 4pm, but with Peter’s general lack of awareness, it had never come up. Otherwise, the duties seemed in line with what he remembered. He looked down to Section IV.

“As referred to in Sec. III, the employee will complete the following tasks during the hours of 6 am and 4 pm every day, including Saturday and Sunday:”

Following this was the list he had long ago written down and taped to his desk. There were no details relating to the purpose of each task, just procedure. He’d kept to the instructions consistently, every switch flipped and seemingly-pointless button pressed, though he’d been very close to missing the 4pm mark on several occasions because of the dreaded walk to the top. This list, again, wasn’t much help. He went over the document a few times then set it aside and flopped onto his back, scattering some loose papers to the floor.

He’d need to find some other angle. Research was a non-starter for him without experience, and as far as his town knowledge was concerned, it wasn’t wrong to call him forgetful in that area as well. It was likely he’d have to accept his part as an amateur tour guide. It didn’t feel like enough, but starting Monday, he’d be back to working and have no time to help anyway, unless their work somehow kept them late into the night.

Jon had been nice with all the working-together talk, but Martin knew he wouldn’t be of much use at all. If he wanted to be helpful, he should begin prepping for dinner.

-

As evening turned to night, Martin and his mother sat at the dining room table in silence, interrupted only by the light clinking of plates and utensils as they finished the pan-fried chicken and vegetables in front of them. Weekends were always better meal days, always leaving Martin feeling more satisfied with his cooking with all the time he had to focus on it. His mother showed no greater signs of enjoyment than eating without complaint.

“Mum, can I ask you something?” Martin ran his thumb against the smooth metal of his fork. “It’s about work.”

Martin’s mother paused from eating another bite of her meal. “What is it?” she asked, frowning.

Swallowing hard, Martin said, “How much have you had to deal with the Lukas family? There’s this research project being completed and it’s involving a lot of history, so I thought since you’ve lived here so long-”

“Long enough, yes.” Martin could see her nostril twitch. “They came in long before I did and will most likely stay until the fish run out. Otherwise, I kept to my business and they kept to theirs. No reason to get involved with people who wouldn’t bother walking down the hills on foot.”

“Right, it’s just-”

“I don’t feel like talking, Martin,” she said, her voice cracking slightly at his name. “My throat is too sore.”

“Right. Okay, I’ll get you some more water.” He picked up her glass to refill and bit back any other questions. Next to the sink was his mother’s pill case with the current day’s compartment still full. “We’ll get your meds done now, then. Should help a bit.” His mother didn’t respond, having already returned to her dinner.

Afterwards, she requested to step outside. “The night air is good for my lungs,” she argued as a matter of fact, and with no way to dissuade her, Martin completed their little ritual of walking out the door and standing in the fog-filled night in silence, his own face covered in an old scarf. His eyes watered in the dry, salty gale, and he wondered how much time it had taken for his mother to withstand the sting without any tears.

-

By mid-morning the next day, Martin had finished his duties upstairs. Sitting at the table, he listened to the group’s progress from after he had left them the day before. Spread across the table were photocopies of what looked like legal documents, some of the bare spots between them filled with used mugs of varying sizes.

“We weren’t able to stay there for long before it closed, but we were able to look up some records at the library yesterday,” Sasha explained, sifting through the papers. “Not a terrible archive, all things considered. We’re going to head there again tomorrow morning for a more in-depth look. We didn’t even get to looking for details on the construction of this place.”

“But!” Tim waved one of the copies above his head. “We did get some info on the Lukases themselves. Current residents in town, major stakeholders, that kind of stuff. And-” He pressed the sheet close to Martin’s face. It was a copy (of a copy) of a newspaper article featuring the lighthouse, with some figures standing at the entrance, including one Peter Lukas. “Martin, d’you know anything about the person who worked here before you? He’s one of the younger ones in the family, standing on the left.”

Martin scratched the back of his neck, squinting at the photo. “A bit? Evan Lukas, he was really nice from what I’d heard.”

Tim frowned, lowering his arm. “‘Was’?”

“Yeah, he passed away before I started working here. Peter said it was some heart thing. Runs in the family.” Tim slumped. “Sorry! I’m surprised the records didn’t say so. It was a pretty big deal, really shook people. It made the front page, though I never read the details.”

“Did you ever meet him?” Jon asked, tapping on the rim of his empty mug.

“Sort of? We went to school around the same time and were only a few years apart, which was weird since you wouldn’t expect him to go to a state school with a family like that? Anyway, that was years ago, but even after that you’d hear about him. He was gone for a while, actually, but somehow he ended up in this old place a few years back and, well, y’know.” Martin rubbed his hands.

“Hmmm.” Tim leaned back in his chair, flipping a pencil between his fingers. “Okay, well, that’s one person we probably can’t talk to outside of spookier means. Is there anyone who knew him well?”

Pausing for a moment, Martin said, “I think… no, yeah, he was engaged, but his fiancée left town pretty soon after he died. Don’t know anything about her except she wasn’t a local.” Silence stretched over them as Tim sat in his disappointment

“Well, shit,” Tim let out in an overblown sigh. Sasha patted Tim’s shoulder in sympathy. He grinned at her. “That’s all I’ve got, then. Time to call it a day?” he asked, earning himself a pinch on the ear.

“We’ll just have to go over the items we have until tomorrow,” Jon said, his sigh brimming with exhaustion. “Who knows, we might’ve missed something the first time. Before that, Martin, who was the person we missed yesterday? Would they be worth talking to?”

Hesitating, Martin responded, “Maybe? But if you’ve already got a way to look up historical stuff, it might be better to skip this one.” Jon raised an eyebrow at him and his stomach dropped at the attention.

“It’s just, he’s an eccentric person, difficult to track down, and while he knows the Lukas family pretty well, it’s only because their families do business. His family, the Fairchilds, they’re not a huge family in this town, but this guy, Simon, he’s, well. He’s this small, old man, right?” Martin tapped his foot, looking for something to say to end his babbling. “And you know the cliff behind the lighthouse? It’s got at least 150 meters straight down to sea?” The three nodded, and Martin smiled, his brows furrowed.

“Years ago, he dove right off the damned thing.”

-

Tim gaped over the railing, his breath floating over the edge. Sasha and Jon gaped slightly less, and from a safer distance, though that didn’t seem to save Jon from the effects of the harsh, cold wind that sent him shivering through a nothing of a windbreaker. Far below the cliff’s edge, down past the wind-worn rock and smattering of trees, through a thin layer of fog that cradled the seaside, there waited an incredibly harsh landing of sea and stone.

“But there’s a fuckload of rocks down there?” Tim sputtered.

Martin kept his gaze straight forward. “Yeah.”

“And even if he just hit water, I mean-”

“Made it out just fine.”

“And you were thinking of just skipping this guy? I don’t care if he’s unhelpful, I want to see if he can fly or something.” Tim stepped from the safety rails, giving one a good pat.

Sasha crossed her arms, eyeing the drop. “Do you know where we can find him?”

Martin scratched his face. “Most of the time he comes here to see Peter for business. Peter absolutely hates it since it’s usually out of nowhere, and Simon always claims he does it because he likes surprises, but I think he just likes to be irritating. Otherwise…” Turning to look at the lighthouse, Martin said, “I do know where Simon lives, and while I can’t guarantee he’ll want to speak to you about anything specific, he definitely loves to talk.”

“Is there anything he’s said to you about the Lukas family? Or the building?” Jon looked at Martin intently, clearly doing his best to not shiver.. “Anything that might’ve seemed like nothing more than gossip or reminiscing?”

With Jon staring at him, Martin’s brain sputtered to a stop. “I-I don’t think so? Like I said, he’s eccentric, so it’s hard to pick apart anything he says as being sincere or as a joke. He told me he was once a firebreather, and I still don’t know if I believe him. Sorry, I know that’s not super helpful.” Martin rubbed the back of his neck.

Jon relaxed his gaze, his corner of his mouth quirking down just a little. “It’s all right. If we can get a hold of him, we’ll ask him some simple questions and hopefully sift through any confusion. Right now, we can all stop giving ourselves vertigo and get back inside. It’s freezing out here.” Jon made a show of shoving his hands under his arms and walked back to the lighthouse.

“Poor guy’s circulation is shot, honestly. Could get hypothermia walking into a basement,” Tim teased behind his hand, not bothering to lower his voice as he leaned toward Sasha and Martin.

“Ha. Very funny.” Jon sent a withering glare over his shoulder and slipped indoors. They followed him back inside, and while the other three sat to discuss possible interview questions, Martin got another round of tea going. He had to have some of those to-go paper coffee cups somewhere in these cupboards, but no amount of looking revealed them. Instead, he managed to find one lonely travel mug and contemplated his options.

Would it be too obvious? Would Jon consider it him joining in on the teasing? At the thought of Jon stubbornly standing outside in a too-thin jacket, Martin resigned himself to whatever reaction he would receive. Either way, he'd get something warm in Jon’s hands so the little pang in his chest would go away.

When Martin brought him the mug, Jon looked suspicious but didn’t complain.

[d0cthunder]

it’s been weeks and i still have this numbness that is blocking me from truly feeling anything.

All i feel is anxious and I take pills to stop that from turning into a panic attack.

i cant even be as angry as i was about the system we live in.Not as angry as i was before my godmother died.

nothing that i care about seems to be able to bring me out of this.

my maternal grandfather has been on hospice for going on four years.

Now, I never had a close relationship with this man. So please, nobody do that whole i am so sorry thing cause it isn’t like that.

his health has declined so drastically in the last 3 weeks that the nurse says he has maybe a week to live.

I have been thhe most involved in taking care of him. My mom works too many hours to be here for things like Nurse visits, to remember all the meds he takes and to notice the little changes through out the day. Like his balance getting worse or his hallucinations becoming more frequent.

Me and his part time caregiver were the ones who spent the most time doing for him. Changing diapers, picking him up when he would lose balance and fall, feeding him etc. In February of this year, his part time caregiver had to quit due to her baby grandson’s medical issues. I was taking care of him full time from then until quarantine. After Quarentine, I took care of him full time plus the weekends (my mom now has to work 10 hr shifts on weekends on top of her usual 60hrs)

It’s a hard thing to do. Take care of somebody like this. It’s emotionally exhausting, mentally and at times physically exhausting.

Despite the weird non relationship I have had with my grandfather, as a human being with an active role in his care, I feel sympathy, empathy, compassion, but that’s the full extent of it.

But if I didn’t have to start taking care of this old man, my mental health would not have improved this much.

I could barely get out of bed before he went on hospice. I wasn’t in the medicaid program. I wasn’t taking medication. Wasn’t in therapy.

I lost entire days to maladaptive daydreaming, to disociating.

I would cry at random moments and didn’t know why i was crying.

I planned and planned and planned to end my life.

Then my guilty mind would remember that funeral expenses cost $5000+ and I would become a wreck crying and feeling extra sh i t ty about not having enough money to be able to afford to kill myself.

Anytime I seemed at the edge of needing to be hospitalized, the price of an ambulance ride was enough to keep me from ending up there.

Ridiculously longwinded way to say that being responsible for someone else’s health and well being made me just a little more responsible of my own mentalhealth and well being.

I hope he isn’t in pain.

He has a high fever.

My mom is working from home, because she says “You shouldn’t have to be the one who is there when he dies.”

She thinks she is being nice.

I don’t think he would care that I’m not allowed in the room with him.

If he was aware enough to know what is going on. He wouldn’t care.

I’m not being negative or down on myself.

He just wasn’t that close with me nor is he close with my mom.

But It’s impossible for me not to feel responsible for someone I spent all my days and some nights worried about for years.

Even though he gave me the stink eye and was rude to me.

Even though he was extremely stubborn and resented my help.

I give a shit that he’s dying.

And it f u c k i n g sucks that I’m not being allowed to even help make him feel comfortable.

[alluringoneirataxia]

Long Winding Road Stay Strapped My Dude

By: Astoria Cathryn Andromeda

Alrighty, this is a long one boys. So I touched briefly on this in my Welcome to Literally Everything post. No worries I'll recap you, so you don't have to switch back and forth. I just diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, and then ADHD when I was 18 years old, and even then I had to fight for it after countless hours of research. See, there seems to be a wee bit of misogyny in the neurodiverse diagnoses. When I say a wee bit, I mean that scientists used to think that only boy could be autistic or ADHD. They only studied autism in males. Fortunately, nowadays we know that girls can be autistic and/or ADHD, but we present the traits differently than boys, and a lot of our traits are played off due to gender roles in society. For example, being overly talkative in girls is called chatty, whereas boys who can't sit still are sent off for testing immediately. This also causes problems for the boys, because little Johnny gets put on Adderall at the ripe age of 6 years old, just because he can't sit still for 8 hours straight, which by the way should not be expected of any elementary school kid, By the time, he's 25 he's 1) completely dependent on amphetamines 2) his body will stop producing dopamine due to being on the medication for so long. Nicht Gut. Generally, boys who are on the spectrum get picked out earlier due to late speaking, or lack of social skills. This is the one thing that girls happen to do better than boys. Girls are good at masking, which is basically taking social traits, phrases, personalities, demeanor, and copying them. In public, they put on a mask and at home, they have a meltdown. Girls are still not picked up as being on the spectrum, because shyness is called being 'ladylike' and 'dainty', and having a meltdown is just because :( girls are oh-so emotional, boohoo. Anyways tons of women do not get diagnosed with autism until they are well into their adulthood, I actually can be considered lucky to have technically still been a teenager when we finally got all the pieces together.

Alright, let's start with I don't know me as a baby. I did not speak until I was 2 years old, and then it was immediately full sentences from then on. I didn't do the babbling thing, which I don't know how impactful that really is to the topic. I was a very shy little girl. I was teeny tiny, we didn't know I if I was going to make it to 5 feet tall until I had a big growth spurt in 7th grade. I am 5'2 now and definitely done growing in case you were wondering, so not that short anymore. I did not like talking to adults, especially strangers, especially men. I did not look anyone in the face, and I will always hide behind my parent's legs when they would try to introduce me to people. I am an only child, and I spent a lot of time entertaining myself. I always had seasonal affective disorder, where my grades would dip in the winter. My parents knew I had a timer, they had 45 minutes from the moment they stepped into a restaurant before I would start breaking down. If I got off schedule as a toddler in any form, it was a catastrophe. Or this is what my parents and family tell me. I didn't really notice. I did not like being out in public a lot, I was a very picky eater, and I was extremely hyper. I was a very eccentric child, I only had 1-2 close friends and they were always a very well-liked outgoing girl who I just followed around. Looking back, I don't know how we missed it. I was shy because I didn't understand how social interactions worked, I was anxious about it because I didn't understand, I had sensory overloads, routines, and a very bland diet with a safe food which was ketchup. I put that shit on literally everything, eas, apples, mac and cheese, pizza, all meat, anything something forced me to eat that I did not like. But because I could sit still in class, and because I could zone out and daydream all day through school and still make A's nobody ever flagged me for anything and how I was supposed to know that not everybody just copied other people, scripted things before they talked, and could never pay attention. My mom always required me to be in a sport, and I was a gymnast and a swimmer for a long time, two very high-intensity sports, to help lower my energy levels, and because my mom has mild depression and she knows that exercise does help. Skip to middle school, my mom tells me I'm being bullied at church. It's not that I wasn't observing my surroundings I knew I was being excluded, but I didn't understand vindictive behavior, I thought it was my fault. I had zero friends in 8th grade until I sat down next to a random acqutaince I had gone to school with since I was 4 and the same gymnastics place. Then we were immediately attached at the hip after that. She is my best friend due this day and definitely got me through high school. Led me through so many social situations without either of us knowing. I had a very close friendgroup in highschool, all of them were on the drumline which I met through my best friend, and my first boyfriend was my best friend's neighbor. I ended up playing bass guitar for my high school's indoor drumline, and it was the best experience ever. I love my friends, but I had really bad depression when I was 15-now:) jk It's better. I didn't really realize I was depressed, I just didn't want to go to school, or swim practice, or do anything so of course, my mom noticed, and then once it was pointed out to me it got worse. My severe anxiety spiraled with my depression. Senior year of high school, my boyfriend and I were like toxic star crossed lovers, hurting each other over and over again without meaning to. My friends and I were self harming, all my close friends gad some demon going on. I finally decided to try therapy again after the disaster of being forced to go when I was 15 and the lady told me I wasn't depressed because I had a boyfriend and good grades. It helped a bit, I was able to get my panic attacks under control. Then I went away to college and stayed dating my senior high school boyfriend, we were just up and down as always, but with slightly better communication. My freshman year of college I joined a fraternity, a research lab, and my first hs boyfriend/ex/best friend and I went to a Christian campus place. By second semester, I had a lot of people who knew me and talked to me, but I didn't have any close friends, and even less close friends who were girls. All my close friends who were girls were at another college. My parents were worried about me, so they made me rush a sorority, which I knew was never my scene, but my parents made me join and I found a few girls I liked. Soon I was going to 6 classes, fraternity chapter, research lab meetings, christain crash group meetings, soriorty pledge meetings all on every Tuesday. I was different person at each of these events and wore a different mask. I was having what I know now were autistic burnout meltdowns every single day on the phone in my crusty dorm's stairwell. It was not cute. His mental health had always been bad too. Finally I decide I need to try a psychatrist and go back to therapy, and then he broke up with me. Then I made my first close friend, a guy who was in 3 of classes, and I took him to my fraternity's formal, and then coronavirus happened.  Rona kinda saved my grades, and mental health by sending us home event though it did suck. I got on anti-anxiety meds and things went up, but I was still having what I thought were panic attacks, they were austistic meltdowns. My psychiatrist, he's kinda an asshole, he diagnosed me with Obessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. I'll insert definition here: (OCPD) is a personality disorder that's characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. People with OCPD will also feel a severe need to impose their own standards on their outside environment.> Basically hr told me I had rules for everything like how everyone drives on the right side of the road, but nobodythinks about it andwhen I broke one of my rules I got depressed, and when wasn't perfect I got depressed, and when I made an A I was relieved not proud. The diagnosis seemed to fit really well, and my therapist and I started working finding my rules, and getting rid of the bad ones, and making the others less harsh. I had thought every once and in a while in my life when I was really upset, what if I'm on the spectrum, because I just felt so hopeless for social interactions and I didn't understand. I always felt like I was a very specific person, but after the ocpd I started thinking more and more, and I saw a tik tok of a girl with lae diagnosed autism basically describing me and ranting about the misogyny. I did more research and I decide, yea I'mm gonna bring it up to mypsychatrist well he's a dick, so he was like um you don't act like sheldon cooper from the Big Bang theory,and I was like wellI just I have always thought I might have adhd like be neureodiverse, and he was like your grade point average in hs was a 97.8%, you're not adhd. I immediately cried, because I can't handle when anyone says anything in a even a slightest stringent tone. I'm baby, I know lmao. It made me angry though because I felt like he just brushed away all of my struggles I had in my whole life. I spent hours researching and typed up a 47 page document on evidence for why I was on the spectrum, and had my parents help will some of checklists to make sure I was getting outside perspectives. I rally my parents to be my back up and next psychiatrist appointment we actually talk about it and he asked my parents questions about when I was young and such and finally he was okay you're on the spectrum. I felt so validated and like I could start being myself. I slowly got more and more confident, changed my style of clothing, and researched more about adhd pushed to be tested, and oh look at that I also have ADHD. So basically discourse: "I feel like as a child I coded a machine to do life for me so I didn’t get bothered except I didn’t know about the machine I thought i was the machine and now I’ve become self aware and I have to learn how to read the code and rewrite the code because it’s dysfunctional because I’m not functioning well as a human being. I was really shy as a child. I would turn beat red when people talked to me or looked at me so I think I started cookie cutting situations and using them over and over again because they worked until I accidentally hard wired these expansion rules and expectations for myself. I didn’t may attention is class ever I just day dreamed and if I got good grades i wouldn’t be bothered i could just stay in my head and if I did my sport well my parents didn’t bother me. I was never asked if I did my homework I just did it so I wouldn’t be asked and have to deal with that situation. I would cookie cutter situations in class that would draw the least attention to myself.

I feel like i don’t have friends I just fulfill the expectation like a side quest on video games" I wrote this down pre autism confirmation when i just thought I had ocpd. Now I don't directly identify with ocpd, but I definitely think I developed that personality disorder a bit from living with undiagnosed autism. I am linking below the very informative Tik Toks by the lovely Paige on autism in girls. The imposter syndrome one really hit home. I had had so many panic attacks about thinking I tricked people into being my friend, or thinking I was smart.

I highly suggest watching these short tik toks, you'll definitely learn something

https://vm.tiktok.com/wVvcYA/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqRRUf/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnqhvX/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqeyYg/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnoE7u/

https://vm.tiktok.com/Kas6gB/

https://vm.tiktok.com/owM9hs/

Imposter syndrome

I am also linking an article about Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory and Autism that explains why my psychiatrist was wrong, and also I am a girl and the spectrum is called a spectrum because it's a fucking spectrum no two autistic people are exactly the same it's like a color wheel.

http://www.autismsupportnetwork.com/news/problem-sheldon-cooper-and-cute-autism-387783

Here is a fun comic about the spectrum and how to view it.

https://the-art-of-autism.com/understanding-the-spectrum-a-comic-strip-explanation/

I am still learning about myself, and how to be me, and how to be myself but without breaking bad social rules. It's quite humorous though because I'll learn something is related to autism and I'm like oh shit again, like still, like, we're still discovering things.

"Tu ne me manques pas"

Bis später,

Astoria.