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lifeinahole27 · 5 years ago

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CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 4/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: Without going into too much detail, I’m moving to a twice-a-week posting schedule. Mental health and mental illness are truly fickle things. This is the only way I can control mine right now. If I’d had my way, I would’ve posted the rest of the story in one go and taken a few months away from all social media. This was the proposed solution. Thank you for all the support and love over the last five years. It’s been my favorite adventure, so far.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 4: Middle of the Road

October 25: Friday

Friday is another night out at the Rabbit Hole, and for once Killian is there before her instead of the other way around. He’s in the middle of some animated story about lobsters, much to the amusement of those in attendance judging by their rapt expressions. There are two seats open at the table. One is the safe option, across from Killian and next to David. Or the other option is to sit at the head of this cacophony of tables and next to Killian directly.

His gaze flicks over to her, as if he senses her thoughts, and as the story wraps up to the raucous laughter of their whole group, he puts on a satisfied little smile and lifts his hand in greeting.

It looks as though he’s gotten the approval of both Snow and David, so that’s a mark in the right column.

When her drink is set down in front of her, she wanders over, making a split second decision to sit at the head of the table.

“Seems like I missed the best part of the evening,” she says as she settles in beside him.

“Long story short, the lobsters won the battle,” Killian tells her, smiling and sipping from the bottle in front of him. “How was your day at work, Swan?”

“David hit a new record in computer freeze-ups, so it was a little long.”

“It’s not my fault the computers are still running Windows 95,” David argues, his scowl not directed at Emma but at the ancient technology they’re currently running in the station.

“And it’s not my fault you just decided this year that you wanted to start digitizing the last fifty years of records we have,” Emma retorts, losing the battle with herself and sticking her tongue out at David when he does the same to her. “Also, I would definitely argue that it is your fault that our equipment is so damn old.”

“Have you spoken to Regina about upgrade budgets?” This comes from the other end of the table, where Robin is seated, and almost every head swivels to look at him. “Ah, that’s right. You’re all terrified of my fiance. How silly of me to forget.” The blase tone has no offense to it; Robin is simply used to the stunned silence he gets at the obvious suggestion of asking Mayor Mills for budget increases in certain departments. It’s no big deal to him, the guy dating her, because one day he walked into her office to talk to her about a playground rebuild and suddenly they were seen everywhere.

Of course, back then, everywhere they were seen included heavy amounts of arguing. Then, suddenly, one day they were everywhere and making out. So that was an interesting development for a sleepy little town.

“You know, I forgot that since she started dating you she’s been much easier to talk to,” Emma mentions. “Maybe I’ll schedule an appointment with her and ask about getting some upgrades in the station.”

“It’s best that you do this one on your own. She’s still mad at me for dragging a pack of dogs through those daffodils she had in front of Town Hall,” David admits.

“Only a little, mate,” Robin adds, winking when David looks at him.

“Isn’t it rather handy to have the expat club around, love?” Killian nudges her with his elbow when he says it, grinning wide when she makes eye contact.

“It’s not so bad, I guess,” she responds with her own smile back.

After a couple hours, the length of the day starts to weigh on her and she can feel her eyes drooping shut even with the group still in full swing.

“Okay, I’m calling it a night,” she announces to their side of the table.

“I’ll walk with you, Swan, if you’ll allow me. I’m at the end of my night, as well.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue to dismiss him, but Snow catches her eye and gives her one of her meaningful looks. She gives one of her own back, indicating that yeah, fine, okay she gets the message.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she says lamely, instead of whatever objection had been waiting.

Outside, they both take a moment to adjust to the quiet and the wind, with Emma pulling out her beanie and pulling it on snugly.

“I need to remember my own,” Killian says, indicating the hat on her head. “You’d think I would be better suited for cold weather given the track record of my home country.”

“After I moved back it was a struggle to get used to the temperatures again,” Emma admits.

“Moved back?”

“From Florida. I spent three years down there,” she says, leaving out all the rest of the story on purpose. But the answer seems to suit Killian just fine.

“I never officially lived anywhere else until I moved here,” he tells her as they walk down the street. “Visited a lot of places in the Navy, but official, permanent addresses were all in the same town.”

“The Navy, huh?”

“Aye. One day you’ll get to hear all about my sordid but charming history,” he says, a teasing note to the words.

It’s so easy, walking the short distance with him. She almost tells him she can take the rest alone when they hit their corner but she resists, instead leading him again along the path to her building. He stops when she does, still standing a respectable distance away.

“Thanks for walking with me,” she says quietly. In truth, she wants to ask him up for a cup of coffee or something, but she can’t remember the last time she’s had a man in her home and now doesn’t feel like a good time to try when it’s getting late and she wasn’t lying about how tired she is.

“Always a pleasure. Goodnight.”

She responds in kind, itching like she did that first time he walked her home to reach out, to have some form of physical signature to end the evening.

He’s just turning away when she moves again, grabbing his arm and going for a quick kiss on his cheek but he turns and the peck ends landing right on the corner of his mouth. Rather than sink into the comforting embrace of awkwardness, she stands her ground against the urge to run.

“Thank you again,” he tells him.

“For what?”

“Everything. Walking me home. Understanding. Not pushing me. I’m trying to get on the same level, and I wanted you to know that.”

“All at your own pace, Swan. Goodnight,” he says again, his smile tinged with peace.

She makes sure to give him one last wave and smile when she gets to the door, liking the way this night ended much more than the last time he walked her home.

-x- October 30: Wednesday

While Storybrooke is a small town, it doesn’t mean Mayor Mills has an abundance of time. As such, Emma can’t get an appointment until Wednesday. It’s something to break up the monotony of the day, however, so she doesn’t mind. Right before lunch time, she heads to the stately office building and waits her turn behind various townspeople requests.

It’s such a simple meeting, with professional courtesies and barely any spare chatting or gossip. Regina’s never really been the type, even before she got together with Robin. While he’s certainly made her more approachable, the meeting is still over about ten minutes after it begins, and Emma comes away from it with more than she anticipated.

Armed with her upgrades budget and a wishlist a mile long, Emma heads outside and starts walking back to the station. Across the street is NeverEndings and she slows down a bit, weighing the decision to go in. Ultimately, the idea of surprising Killian and maybe asking him if he wants to grab lunch with her is what sends her crossing, pulling open the heavy wooden door and rushing into the reception area.

The last couple days have been really nice with him. They walk together in the mornings, and sometimes she loops her arm through his while they cross the street. She has snuck him two kisses outside of the library so that Granny doesn’t see it when he leaves her at the front of the diner.

And today, she didn’t even have to stop at the diner. Instead, Killian was waiting at their corner with a second mug of coffee. The least she can do is give him his afternoon caffeine fix.

It turns out the office building is a little more active during the day compared to when she brought him his dinner. She stands there in shock for a moment, remembering that there are people that work here that aren’t Killian, or Will, or Robin, and trying to decide if this really was a good idea.

She’s just about to turn around and head out again when the secretary, a woman named Anna, calls out to her.

“It’s nice to see you, Emma! It’s been too long! Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Um, I’m actually here to see Killian? Killian Jones?”

“He’s in his office. Do you need me to take you back?”

“No, thanks. I know the way. Thanks Anna.”

It looks like Anna is about to launch into something else to say - the woman has a penchant for talking far too much but is one of the nicest people she’s ever met - but Emma moves quickly beyond the desk and back towards the office she knows.

She weaves her way through the halls again, finding Killian’s door wide open this time. He’s not alone, however, and she startles when she sees a young teenager sitting in the chair across from Killian’s desk. Like he can sense she’s there, the man in question glances away from his computer screen and makes eye contact with her.

“Ah, Swan! Good afternoon. Henry, just give me one moment,” he tells the young man in the chair, starting to rise from his own.

“Sorry, I didn’t -”

The boy turns then, curious brown eyes landing on her, so familiar that it steals all the breath in her lungs momentarily. Even his hair looks the same color as Neal’s.

“I didn’t know you were busy. Never mind,” she says quickly, turning from the door and all but running back out through the front doors before Killian even has a chance to finish standing up.

“Emma?”

His voice follows her down the hallway, but she doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even stop to consider what this may look like to him. The only thing she’s concerned with is getting away from the memories she wishes she could forget.

Her feet take her to Granny’s - something about this place is the heart of Storybrooke and so everyone always ends up here one way or another - but it’s mostly a trip for comfort rather than necessity this time.

In that regard, the proprietress must sense her needs, because she’s handing over a bear claw fresh from the fryer while Emma waits for her usual lunch to cook. Directly after, a mug of hot cocoa is placed in front of her, cinnamon already sprinkled over the whipped cream.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Same as always,” Granny says without slowing down in her movements behind the counter. “Dessert’s on me. The hot chocolate is from that one over there.”

Emma glances to where she’s pointing, expecting to see David or Ruby or anyone besides Will settling into a booth along the windows. He raises his own mug and turns back to his conversation with Belle, but she has a feeling that’s not the end of the moment just yet.

She’s halfway through pushing her lunch around her plate when Will wanders over and props against the counter where she’s seated.

“Did she put the rum in it like I asked?” he asks, pointing to the mug in her hands. Suddenly, she wonders if there was a different tang to the usual comfort today but Will’s smile is one she recognizes. “Only joking, lass. I know you’re on the clock. But surely you could’ve used it with the way you looked when you ran from the office.”

“You saw that?” She wants to cringe, to run away and hide again, but Will isn’t judging her so it’s not the end of the world.

“Sped right past me as I was on my way back to Killian’s office. You know him and I go way back?”

“I thought you just met when he moved here.”

“Hardly. Met right before he joined the Navy through some literary club thing he was in. He was interning at the London branch when this position opened up and I told Robin to hire him and stop having all those brains wasted on fetching coffee and being a gopher.”

“Leaving England for a junior editor position had to be a big decision. Why would he come all this way for a spot he probably would’ve gotten if he stuck it out over there?”

“That’s all his story to tell you. But there is something I’ll tell you about Killian,” Will starts, and Emma won’t lie and say her heart doesn’t stutter at the words. She’s expecting the worst, as always, but she nods at him to continue.

“He hasn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Had his heart broken clean in two. If I’m not mistaken, that’s something the two of you have in common,” he says gently. There’s something about the way he says it. This is a level of friendship they’ve never crossed, preferring witty banter and faked hatred to show their friendly affection for each other instead.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t know you’re telling me this?” Emma asks.

“No. Probably tell me to mind me own bloody business. But it’s funny. About a month and a half ago he started smiling the way he did, before life got to him.” He gives her a look at that, before Belle is back by his side. Her fingers link with his like she doesn’t even know she’s doing it, and the sight makes something in Emma’s stomach clench with want.

They turn to leave her, but Emma calls back to Will before he gets too far.

“Thanks. I’ll try not to be too mean to you from now on,” she says.

“Bollocks! That’s half the fun of it!” he exclaims, grinning ear to ear and turning around as Emma laughs.

She doesn’t particularly want to return to the station but knows she should go back to work. The rest of her day is spent intently focusing on the files she’s copying. When David leaves for the day, she tells him to go on ahead. If he’s worried, he knows better than to push for information right now, which works just fine for her. She’ll talk when she’s ready.

When the last file of her stack is completed, she finally shuts everything down, looking up to find Mulan kicked back at her desk and reading a book.

“Never thought you’d give up,” the other woman mutters without looking away. “Go home. David delivered food to your apartment over an hour ago.”

“I’m going. But not because you told me to,” Emma points out. She stands, bending and twisting and stretching until all the pops and cracks from her back have helped ease some of the pain she feels.

With more amiable separating words from both of them, Emma finally leaves Mulan to take over the next shift, knowing that Phillip will probably be in after his aptly named son, Phillip, is put to bed for the evening. Her walk home is trudging, at best. Even knowing that David dropped off food for her isn’t helping pick up her feet any.

The shock of seeing a kid look that much like Neal is enough to sour a whole day, if not the whole rest of the week.

It’s not just that Neal left her, and that he left in the middle of the night while she slept, but that he did it because he thought Emma was pregnant. There was no indication that she even was. She had a stomach bug, three days of her head in the toilet which was preceded by her mentioning she had a craving for Granny’s grilled cheese sandwiches and a chocolate milkshake from back home.

Not even bothering to do the math or ask about her cycle, he just assumed that the cravings and the vomiting meant she was pregnant. They’d had sex once. For roughly thirty seconds until he complained that she was too tight and he pulled out. And he’d been wearing a condom.

The anger of it starts fueling her into moving again, and she almost rushes right past Granny’s when she hears the calling of her name.

“Evening, Swan!” Killian greets her from where he’s kicked back in one of the chairs on the patio, even though it’s far too cold to be sitting out here like that.

She waves, something jerky and unsure, and keeps moving along. She had no intentions of waltzing into his office and then fleeing like it was the scene of a crime this morning, and it’s mostly embarrassment that has her feet moving quicker.

“Come on, Swan. Don’t make a man drink alone.”

“Not in the mood for a drink. Or a man,” she says, half-zoned out and just wanting to get home to try to process the rest of her emotions.

“Emma, sweetheart?” he asks, hurt evident in his voice, and when she doesn’t slow down he gets up from the chair he was in and moves after her. “Wait a moment, Swan. What’s happened? What did I do between this morning and when you stopped by my office?”

The fact that he thinks it’s his fault is what has her slowing minimally and letting him catch her around the forearm with his prosthetic hook. He uses that momentum to coax her to turn around, and the look on his face is finally what makes her cave. He doesn’t deserve the brunt of her fuckery. He’s been so patient through everything else, and while any other man in her life would’ve probably run at her first change of heart, this one has stood nearby with no pressure, no conditions asked. She fights through that heavy feeling in her chest, past the lump in her throat, so she can maybe even try to explain what happened.

“It’s not you. I just… was reminded of my past and why I’m not good at this kind of thing.

“You’ve got to trust that I have no ill intentions here.”

“You think this is because I don’t trust you?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course I trust you. But it doesn’t change the fact that everyone I’ve ever been with has left me behind.” It’s probably the first time Emma has ever admitted any of this out loud, and suddenly what she thought was just a slight case of emotions feels a lot more like a boulder sitting in her stomach. For the tiniest moment, she’s afraid she’ll start crying. Her voice is almost garbled when she speaks again, fighting past the emotions welling up. “Neal, Graham… even Walsh. They left me in one way or another.” He doesn’t know them yet, doesn’t know what they did, but letting their names out into the open takes away some of their power.

Moving just a bit closer, Killian holds eye contact with her, probably just as much for him as for her. “Well, love. You don’t have to worry about me. I may leave this area on occasions, but I’ve no intention of leaving you unless you tell me to.”

It could just be an empty promise, but coming from Killian it sounds like a genuine one. She nods, just a fraction of her chin tilting down, to show him she understands. He moves forward the rest of the way, his intent clear without being overpowering. And then he’s kissing her, his arm coming snugly around her waist.

It’s different from their first kiss and the small affectionate gestures they’ve shared recently. There’s something more than intention behind it and without the spontaneous factor involved, it’s calmer if not less intense. It doesn’t occur to her to be ashamed that they are standing in the middle of the street because how can she care about anything else when Killian is doing his best to remind her what human connection feels like with each subsequent press of his lips?

This is enough for now, the start of a new routine for them. She always just assumed he was some nerdy dude with an office job, but really, Killian is like twenty things all wrapped into one and she’s discovering she’s eager to uncover each layer of him one at a time.

With that thought, her final hang-ups fall away and she surrenders instead to the warm lips attached to the man that has changed her mind about dating. She thinks to tell him that, but then he’s shifting, his hand sliding into her hair as his left arm pulls her closer and then she’s all but crawling into his jacket. He’s warm, chasing away the chill she’s felt not just because of the temperatures but because of the hole she let herself sink into earlier. Chest to chest, she can feel the sound that rumbles through him when she wraps her arms around his waist.

There’s a part of her that wants to know, desperately, why she was resisting this - resisting him, but she knows there’s still miles to go before all the dark spots fall away from her memories. This is a good start, though. It’s just them, figuring things out and also making out like they’re a couple of teenagers.

“There are better places to do that than the middle of the road.” It’s Granny’s voice that springs them apart.

“Seriously?!” Emma says, looking over Killian’s shoulder at the older woman.

Granny just gives her one of her patented looks and goes back inside, leaving them alone again.

“Would it be all right if I walked you home?”

“Sure. I’d like that,” Emma answers, taking his hand as they start heading that way. “Are you dressing up for Halloween tomorrow?”

“Aye. Quite the get-up I’ve got, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

He hums his agreement, but not saying anything more about it. “How about you, love? What have you cooked up for a costume?”

“I don’t normally dress up,” Emma admits. “But I think I can pull something together easily enough.” Even as she says it, she’s thinking of the parts of a suit she has at home. Surely she can pull that off with a couple accessories, right? It’s too good of an idea not to try, and so even though she's sad to say goodnight to Killian after the moment they’ve just had, she’s also excited to get inside and go tearing through her closet.

She makes sure to thoroughly kiss him goodnight before she does, however.

-x-

Chapter 5

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #csrt

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marigoldwitch · 4 years ago

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I think this apartment might be waiting for us

The apartment we looked at in March is still available. Which makes me think that either a) the universe is on our side and knows we should be in that apartment so it's waiting for us to get our shit together lol or b) it's not as great as we think it is and that's why no one else wants it.

I mean it is lacking in pretty much every "modern" amenity lol. No washer and dryer hook up, no dish washer and no outdoor space but these are things we sorta already don't have so that's really not that big of a deal. It doesn't have central air or heat either, which we do currently have but that's also not a deal breaker (for us at least) it does have air conditioning units in the windows both upstairs and downstairs and baseboard heating downstairs. There's no gym or pool or any thing like that. It's an old 1920's office building that they turned into a few apartments. It's literally on the same street that the first place (the 1920's studio apartment) we looked at and fell in love with but that one's no longer available.

It has 1 closet (which is technically the pantry in the kitchen), a pretty weird layout and is smaaaaaallllllll. Like, sooooooo small. That's why we love it soooooo much lol.

Are biggest concern is location and that's why this place is so great. It's literally within walking distance to a dozen cafes, restaurants, bookstores, the post office (this is important for my work lol) and there's even a witchy shop 3 blocks from the apartment! Then there's the price. Let's just say that the new apartments built right in front of this apartment (like at the front end of the street) go for about twice the price as this one. Same square footage but the apartment we're looking at even has an extra half bathroom down stairs. Which is pretty amazing considering it's just a 1 "bedroom" (I say "bedroom" because it's literally just an open space upstairs besides the bathroom).

This place is perfect. It's small. It's cheap. It's in a pretty safe-ish area (with our budget, this is has safe as it's gonna get lol). And because there's only like (I think) 6 apartments in this building, it'll hopefully be quiet too. The realtor said there are no kids in the building (all the apartments are 1 bedrooms except for 1 (which is a two bedroom that he said 2 adults live in). He told us one of the residents works for the theater (he's a seamstress). When he found out I'm a small artist and my boyfriend is a dancer he said "wow, this place is perfect for the artsy types like y'all" I thought it was sweet :)

I've decorated this apartment in my head about 20 different ways already. I have a wishlist of things I want to get and an entire pinterest board of inspiration for this place. If I could sign the lease tomorrow I would. Only issue is that we have to prove we make 3x the rent. And as of now, the last 3 months, we've been about $400 shy of making 3x. So we know we won't get approved, right now. Trust me I am ready to move in now lol.

We're working on. But with the summer coming up and my boyfriend's dance classes being cut in half, we're gonna make even less money. So, as much as I wanted to avoid selling my designs again, I am planning on dusting off the old crochet journal and typing up some of my patterns (along with writing a few new ones). My crochet patterns sell really well on Etsy (and now I have a Patreon too) and I think that's where I should be focusing my efforts for the next few weeks. I might possibly take on a few custom orders but not like I used to.. just in case I get another infection or end up back in the hospital again, I don't want to get behind on my work and relive that stress lol.

If you've made it this far, here is a cookie for your time :) and thank you for listening (or reading, or whatever lol) to my problems. Here's hoping no one snatches up that apartment before we can get it.

#not witchy #apartment hunting

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nyrator · 4 years ago

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still feel like venting and rambling into spacee

broke up with kresna yesterday, he still hasn’t responded to me at all. I’m worried, but don’t want to keep pestering him, either. I know he really wanted us to be a thing, but I don’t think I’m built for a relationship. Maybe we can try again once the border is open and see how things go in person. But right now, we’re too frustrated and too weighed down by our own personal lives to harmonize well at the moment, and it’s not like I haven’t brought up the issue several times as well to brace him for it. Maybe it’ll just be a refreshing breather for the two of us to help get things back on track, but he can take things very personally. I hope I haven’t lost my best friend. I really, really hope I haven’t lost him for good.

He really is a good person. I can’t really give him what he needs right now- I just end up giving him more problems, and I hope this was the right decision. It felt like the only decision I had. I’m scared at how dangerous it might turn out to be. I still plan on treating him the same, if he chooses to accept it, he’s still my best friend like I said, but I feel it’s going to be a lot harder on him and I hope he can make it through this.

My boss texted me today and told me they’re closing the store down next month, which is sad. That floral shop was very good to me, I remember my boss wanting to downsize and just have me and her running the business together, if I ended up not moving to Canada. Sad that won’t happen, but glad she got a new job as a substitute teacher. They’re pretty sure I can get a manager job at any craft store if I applied (I’m doubtful), and I live somewhat close to some big ones (Joanns/Michaels/Hobby Lobby/etc), so maybe I’ll start applying there. I can’t imagine a lot of the smaller stores staying open (what is it, 20 percent of them went out of business so far since covid?), so probably not worth it to even apply to them. Will have to get a car, too. Have $10,000 in savings, theoretically it can last me all of 2021 without including spending it on a car.

Speaking about my budget out loud.

$125 a month in rent, ~$35 in electric, $65 on internet, and say ~$10 for four-ish loads of laundry a month = $235 on basic living.

Groceries, roughly $30 a month I’d say, I tend to not need much, and any food is covered under food stamps. ~$65 a month on cats. = ~ $330 a month I spend on average, plus any luxury items like video games that I might buy.

Right now I still receive about $220 every two weeks from unemployment, but that can disappear at any moment. Rent is income based, I don’t know if they took it with my unemployment or without since it was right when it got re-extended somehow, probably from covid. I was told $25 a month (I know, that’s absolutely insane), but the paperwork says $125 (still insane but I’ll take what I can get, rent is the one good thing I have going for me right now, thank you income-based senior apartment).

I also applied for another credit card, but still inexperienced at building credit- hopefully it builds quick enough where if I need a car, I can get a decent payment plan

In short, I can get by for a year without a job, theoretically, but I’d rather not. And the sooner I get a car, the better, probably- driving makes me extremely, extremely anxious, though, but I can’t really walk anywhere safely either thanks to the highways/interstates. There’s biking, but most things are on a highway uphill... And always the bus if they still run, but the bus I take is very limited on where it goes...

Another stimulus would be great (ah, politics), if only to help with the bigger purchases. Still like the idea of UBI too, even though it’s highly unlikely we’ll get anything like it any time soon.

I also thought about going back to school, maybe online courses, get something in computers. One for personal use- to make things like video games, but also to see if I can get a career in it. I know it’s a field that is in need of programmers, I just wonder if I’d be able to do it (or afford it...), feels like a big commitment for me.

Been in weird mode post-break up. Part of me does feel refreshed, like I can focus on myself again, on my projects. Another friend is trying to inspire our group to work on our fangames again before the New Year, and I feel like I might work on you&me again, finally. Maybe Ploom, too, or Skatered concept art. Maybe I’m just filling my head with these ideas to cope and not think about the terrible thing I’ve done, I dunno. Today depression hit a lot harder than yesterday.

Still playing with the idea of becoming a vtuber legitimately ever since an artist I followed became one, maybe as Lave, maybe as a completely original character and become totally anonymous about it. I’d probably do pre-recorded videos rather than streams, I’d imagine. I’m not a good speaker- not a lot to talk about, and I have a lisp and trip over my words a lot. I’d probably just play my favorite games (Yume Nikki, Cave Story, F-Zero GX, etc) and keep a shy, somewhat informational persona, or something, instead of the energetic reactionary ones I usually see. Beyond games, not sure- Q&As, if the audience is there for it, otherwise, hm. Maybe art recordings, I guess. I’d like to play music, but good ol’ dmca stuff still exists.

Chances are very slim this actually happens, and I feel like a dork for even entertaining the idea, but it’s something to think about to kill time, I suppose.

Healthwise, slowly getting back on track, but it varies. Starting to eat 1,500 calories again (mostly through chocolate, though), bought some foods to try, but no idea how to prepare. Today was a low energy kind of day, took three naps throughout it and still feel like laying in bed.

My sleep is still something- I’m always fascinated by sleep and parasomnia stuffs that I kind of want to experiment, but for my health I probably shouldn’t. One night recently I had a strange dream, more of a feeling, mixed with sleep paralysis and other things I shouldn’t mention. Got a few entries this month for my dream diary again, not sure if it’s from my crazy sleep schedules, or from actively keeping the diary again, or what.

Still on the fence about sharing the diary, if only because of how embarrassing it is. Maybe through RN, for some reason I like exposing those kinds of thoughts through RN to vent, I guess- it’s fun to embarrass Lave and not fun to embarrass me, even though that makes no sense. I don’t think I could draw those dreams, though, so maybe a written blog post on the RN blog...? I dunno.

Also slowly getting back into the ACNH life- realized I’m still missing a lot of furniture though, made a wishlist but haven’t really played with anyone lately, wish the Nooklings would actually sell new items (come on Nintendo, add another upgrade, please- I do wonder if more items than I think are limited in color selection per island, like the Nook items/surfboards). Might have to make a separate post for it laterr. Also updated my wardrobe in the game finally, not 100% on it (the skirt mainly, maybe the hat too) but overall it looks okay. Not sure why I’m such a huge fan of moccasins but pink ones are great (I’ve only owned brown ones irl). Still would like to own a hat like that, too... especially now that my hair is thinning more and more

also recipes are still a pain to get, made a checklist and it looks like I’m still missing roughly a third of the recipes, rippp (one day, giant teddy bear, wooden bookshelf, cool moon chair thing, etc...)

#text stuffs #nyrants #wondering if I should call them nyvents or something

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cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years ago

Text

Denial (Rhodestead)

Summary: Will is straight, but has this habit of watching videos of a faceless man on the internet get himself off.

Warnings: internalized homophobia, homophobia, eventual smut

WC: 6569

Here’s the thing: Will Halstead is straight.

Really, he is, no kidding. He likes women, and their chests, and their legs, and all that. He’s had girlfriends, and even had sex with one of them, once, when he was in med school. Her bed had been squeaky and the mattress too small, and the whole time he looked at this poster she had on her wall. It was for the Princess Bride. Buttercup and Wesley together, under beautiful text he could barely see because the lights were off.

He does not, on the other hand, like men. He has no interest in the way their shoulders move when they walk, or the veins on their hands, or their smiles, or the sharp angles of their jaws, or the tenor of their voices, or the way their bottom lips shadows over their chins, or the curve of- anyways. The point is, Will Halstead is completely, one hundred percent heterosexual.

But the other thing is, he follows this account on instagram, prncehrts. It’s some guy that never shows his face, just photos from the neck down. Some of his chest. His legs. His ass. He has a little muscle, but not enough to be overbearing or falsified. In some pictures he has the faint outline of abs, but in others his stomach looks soft, like the kind made to be bitten and covered in violet marks. Not that Will thinks about that of course.

And of course, there’s prncehrts’ other account, on some blogging platform called tumblr. The premium one. The one that Will pays $15/month to follow because these are photos too explicit to go anywhere else, like the ones that showcase his soft cock lying against one of his marked up thighs, or those that show him on his hands and knees, a hand wrapped around a silicon looking purple toy practically dripping with lube.

Will has the subscription for the express purpose of making sure prncehrts is safe. There are a lot of gay men- not that Will is at all one of them- who don’t always know what they’re doing, and could hurt themselves. It’s a matter of safety that Will watches. His body reacts, sometimes, but it just does that because of course he reacts to naked bodies. Because Will isn’t gay.

He watches, though, at least once a week. Refreshes prncehrts’ blog to see if there’s anything new, and takes a look at whatever comes up. Sometimes it’s a picture, sometimes a video, sometimes both and/or more than one.

For about five months, Will watches, listens, and vehemently reminds himself that he’s not gay and there’s nothing gay about this, even when he sometimes has to press the heel of his hand between his legs in an effort to relieve the pressure that comes just because his body reacts to nudity. Just prncehrts’ though, not any of the girlfriends he’s had in the past, including the one he had sex with once before breaking up with her because there wasn’t a real spark. And for five months, he doesn’t think about the real person who makes these videos until he clicks on one of prncehrts kneeling in front of the camera, everything above his smile cut off.

“Hey, so I was hoping for a little help,” prncehrts says, and his voice is so much deeper than most of the moans Will has come to associate with him. “You all know how much I adore Edward.” He holds up the silicone toy he uses so often, and is apparently named Edward. “But unfortunately, he’s torn a bit right here. So, I’m in the market for something new. I’ve got a wishlist in the caption of this video of some stuff I’ve been meaning to try out. Buy it for me and I’ll make something just for you. I promise.”

And Will doesn’t think about it. He clicks the wishlist, and buys the first thing on it, and leaves the username of the account he had to make to have access to prncehrts' premium accound in the “messages” section. He finds himself paying for overnight shipping, too. He just wants the best for this man he’s never met, even though he should probably be saving that money for a rainy day. He’s not off badly, he’s got plenty of money, but not enough that he should be splurging like this when he already has to budget every month for the fees to just look at prncehrts.

When it arrives the next day, he gets two notifications: one from his amazon account, saying the package was delivered, and several hours later, one from prncehrts over DM. Of course, he doesn’t look at it until his shift is over and he’s home, at which point he doesn’t hurry to see what he’s been sent. And he doesn’t kick off his scrubs before throwing himself on the bed, he just gets rid of them because he’s tired and wants to relax.

He taps on the little thumbnail, and the video fills his screen.

“Forgive the mess, sweetheart. Just got a new place.”

Will waves a hand dismissively, even though he’s watching a video recorded quite a while ago. Prncehrts is laying on a mattress on the floor instead of his usual luxurious sheets, but it doesn’t matter much. He’s still beautiful, and when he starts rubbing a lubed finger against his hole, his muscles tense and that soft stomach turns back to muscle, and that would be a good place to put his mouth too. The thought keeps coming to him, and he isn’t sure why. Will could never have sex with a man. He’s just not interested. He doubts he’d be able to get it up, he thinks, even as he lets his own fingers trace against the bulge in his boxers.

He watches the video, start to finish, twice. The path the video takes, the sounds that drip from prncehrts’ mouth, the way the toy looks inside of him, none of it matters, and neither does the new stain on the inside of Will’s underwear. He’s just not gay, so it couldn’t matter, even though he falls asleep with an image of soft lips and the working of a capable hand slipping against the back of his eyelids. It’s there all night, paints itself in front of his eyes again in the morning. He can’t stop thinking about it. And then he starts in on taking over the movement of the toy himself, pushing down on the small of prncehrts’ back and listening to those moans in real life, not just on a tinny video clearly not made professionally.

Maybe he should stop watching these videos. He shakes his head to clear it and goes for his morning coffee, wishing he had thought to completely pull off his underwear instead of just kicking them halfway down his legs last night. A shower, and coffee, and his scrubs, and he can go to work to think about things other than the fact that he needs to reevaluate watching prncehrts so much, considering he’s not gay. At this point, it’s just weird.

Then he gets to work, and doesn’t think about it for a while, because things are busy like they always are, especially with the new ED opening. It’s christened with a train crash, of all things, and some hotshot new doctor comes riding in doing chest compressions on a gurney, yelling out orders, and Will freezes where he stands because he knows that voice too well. Just twelve hours ago it apologized to him for the messy background. A few minutes after that came a very sincere, breathy, thank you.

The new doctor is prncehrts. He knows what the new doctor’s penis looks like before he knows his name. Will thinks he’s going to throw up. Instead, he gets around to actually helping with the influx of patients, and doesn’t even have time to think about it until he gets off work much later. When he has an ER full of trauma patients, they’re more important than remembering all the different positions (Will almost laughs when he thinks that particular word) he’s seen his new colleague.

After it all, however? After, he can’t get it out of his mind. Prncehrts, or rather, Dr. Connor Rhodes, is more stunning in real life. He has a good smile, and kind eyes, and he’s tall and Will’s eyes are drawn to him. But it’s just a matter of curiosity, because, again, Will isn’t gay. He knows better. He wants to see exactly how much different Connor looks in person, but just out of some sort of curiosity he can absolutely control. Will is the master of self control, especially when it comes to absolutely ridiculous thoughts like these.

Except he goes home that night, rewatches his private video, and comes in his boxers again.

He keeps up the routine, very intentionally not mentioning the connection he’s made. It’s not the kind of thing a person just says- “Hey, by the way, I know you have a side business selling nudes and I bought you a vibrating dildo which you sent me a video of you getting yourself off with. Oh, yeah, and I get off on it sometimes, but in a straight way, because I just happen to get off to the sight of any naked body, not just yours in particular. Hope this doesn’t make things awkward!” Not exactly light chit chat.

So Will doesn’t say anything, even when he watches Connor start flirting with one of the other surgeons, and then they kiss at work, and then there comes the day that prncehrts posts a new video of Connor being fucked by a slight woman with fairly short auburn hair. Fucked by, not fucking. With vague fascination, he watches her fuck him with a strap on, and listens to the needy moans it earns. But he doesn’t finish the video, because there’s this feeling in his gut of wrong. Watching the video suddenly feels wrong. He isn’t sure why, or what about it is different besides the woman appearing, but all in all it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. It's a short video, a teaser, for the full one available on her own premier blog. Will almost pays the fee to see the whole thing, but can't bring himself to. Something about it isn't right.

For three days afterward, Will feels weird about this whole thing. Tells himself he should stop watching, because he's straight and so is Connor and it's not the sort of thing a straight man does. For three whole days, his routine of looking and touching and thinking is disrupted, and he may be a little pent up when Connor shoves him against the wall of an elevator and argues with him, and his lips are against Will's ear as he speaks.

He doesn’t process the words being said, just the sound of Connor’s voice and the feel of his body and he melts. It’s easy to melt for him. And Connor definitely notices, but before Will has time to panic, Connor moves and then they’re face to face. Millimeters apart. And Will has studied these lips, studied the hands on his waist.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

Will nods, and just like that, Connor is kissing him. It’s like he’s imagined, not that he’s put any thought into this at all. He’s straight. He’s straight, and he’s kissing prncehrts and hands he’s intimately familiar with slip beneath his shirt and stroke along the bottom of his rib cage. This is wrong. Wrong. It feels perfect, but it’s wrong, and Will pushes at Connor’s chest and looks anywhere but at him.

“Your videos. I’ve uh, I’ve seen them.”

“Okay.”

“I’m straight.”

At that, Connor starts laughing. It’s not the sultry one he uses in videos, but something honest and open, and Will likes it even better. It’s genuine. “Dr. Halstead, if you watch my porn and just kissed me, I don’t think you’re straight.”

The elevator dings and the door opens back to the ED, because Connor wouldn’t let him go to the clinical trial ward. “I’ve got a patient to check up on.”

“Will-”

“I’m busy.”

He walks too quickly, his lips tingling with what he just did. He shouldn’t have let Connor kiss him. He shouldn’t have mentioned what he’s seen. He shouldn’t have watched any of the videos in the first place. He’s ruined everything, because he can never talk to Connor again. He’ll have to find a new job. Everything is screwed up and Will is a good three seconds from having a complete meltdown.

Except before he can even go to a patient, Connor grabs his arm and makes him stop. “Will. Listen. What happened, we can ignore it, but-”

“I’m not gay. So yeah, we can ignore what you did to me.”

It’s like a switch has been flipped. “What I ‘did to you?’ What the fuck does that mean?”

Will should shut his mouth. He should walk away. He should stop, for just a moment at the very least, but he can’t because deep down, he’s scared. He’s not gay. No can ever think he is, because Will would lose everything. His family, his friends, his job. He isn’t. He’s not gay. He’s absolutely not gay.

“I asked first-”

“No,” Will argues, “you said you were going to kiss me. You didn’t give me a choice.”

“You nodded, you kissed me back-”

“Yeah, because I didn’t wanna get the shit beat out of me by some pushy homo-”

“Wow. Fuck you, Halstead.”

“I just told you, I’m not gay. So leave me the fuck alone.”

This time when Will turns to storm away, Connor doesn’t stop him. He knows he crossed a line, that he shouldn’t have said anything, but he’s not gay. Nothing he’s ever done has been indicative of that, and it’s not his fault that Connor made assumptions because he’s gay. Or maybe not, because he had been fooling around with that woman in the video Will saw a few days ago. Who cares? Will is straight, and he’s going to put this whole day, including the issue with his patient, behind him with as much alcohol as he can drain into his system without giving himself alcohol poisoning. And he absolutely won’t be checking prncehrts tonight.

Less than an hour later, however, Will finds himself being called to Ms. Goodwin’s office. Connor is sitting in one of the chairs, arms crossed, one leg bouncing anxiously.

“A patient reported something very concerning to me, Dr. Halstead. He said that you, quote, ‘accused Dr. Rhodes of forcing you to kiss him and called him a homo.’ Is that true?”

“That’s what happened, yes.”

“We don’t tolerate homophobia at this hospital, Dr. Halstead, as I’m sure you’re aware,” she starts.

Will doesn’t let her get that far. “But you tolerate him assaulting me?”

“Dr. Rhodes told me his side of the story, and the cameras back it up. You nodded when he asked permission, you pulled him closer. If you have… feelings for Dr. Rhodes, or are exploring your sexuality, that’s one thing, but your language was inappropriate.”

“So what, you’re going to write me up?”

“Dr. Rhodes specifically asked me not to. Why, I don’t know. But I don’t ever want to hear about this again, from either of you, am I clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” they both say, and they’re dismissed for now, but Will feels like he’s going to throw up because he hates being reprimanded, and absolutely hates feeling as though he’s disappointed an authority figure.

“Next time you have a crisis,” Connor says before they go their separate ways, “don’t use me as your little experiment and accuse me of… whatever that was.”

Just like that, they don’t interact for the last couple hours of Will’s shift, thankfully, and he’s able to go home and drink in the dark. And when he gets the buzz of a notification that prncehrts’ instagram, which is more suggestive than outright sexual, has posted again. He shouldn’t click on it, especially given what happened today.

But Will doesn’t have much self control, and he opens the notification anyways to a photo of Connor’s chest, starting just below his jaw and going all the way down to follow where his hair thickens into an obvious happy trail that would be fun to trace with Will’s fingers. He never would, but he has the thought.

Rough day. Livestream on my premium tonight to help destress?

All the comments are affirmatives, emojis, dirty words that make Will feel like his chest is folding in on himself and he isn’t entirely sure why. He also isn’t entirely sure why he opens up his computer to the premium account and joins the livestream, which hasn’t quite started yet. Connor is just kneeling in front of the camera, hands folded on his thighs and covering his crotch almost modestly.

The chat is going a mile a minute. Compliments. Demands. Will’s never said anything in these before, and isn’t about to start now, but he feels like he should say something. He has to say something. He doesn’t, though, he just watches.

“I’m gonna be honest with you all,” Connor says. Well, he’s not Connor, Will thinks. He’s prncehrts. They have different personalities. Act differently. “I’m not doing this stream for you, or for me. I’ve got this friend- acquaintance more like. Apparently, he’s one of you. He likes to watch.” Connor pauses, probably scanning the chat. “Yes, yes, I know, I’m not giving you a show yet. Be patient. He and I had an interesting day, and I got this feeling that he’d be watching. Are you watching?”

“I’m watching,” Will says in the silence of his bedroom. “Always.”

“This is a stupid idea, but you know, I figured I might as well have some fun. I'll be taking requests tonight from anyone who gives them, but you know, if you admit you're watching, I'll just listen to you. I know you want that, don't you? That's why you watch. So now's your chance."

It's obviously baiting. Connor wants to prove that Will isn't straight, that there's something wrong with him, that he’s not what he should be. He shouldn’t do this. He should close out of the window. Instead, he holds his phone tightly and debates sending Connor a text. It would be so easy. But the fact is, Will isn’t gay, and it’s one thing to just look, but another entirely to dictate what happens.

He’s still watching, though, when Connor begins taking commands from the chat and starts touching himself, shifting restlessly into the touch of his own hand, a hand that had felt blisteringly hot on Will’s skin only a few hours ago. Every slightest movement is mesmerizing, but nothing as much so as the way Connor keeps biting his lips around the softest moans.

“C’mon. Text me, call me. You know I’ll answer it. Whatever you’re scared of, don’t be.”

Connor stops his hand movements and whimpers, clearly following someone’s instructions in the chat. A lot of his viewers like to see him desperate. But if Will was there, that’s not what he’d be like. He’d just want to make Connor feel good, make him smile and moan and be happy. Not that Will has ever thought about what it would feel like, or would he would do given the opportunity.

Will picks up his cell phone and his fingers dance over the keypad without permission. He can’t help himself. He types, and presses send, and then drops his phone before he can think about it any more. All he does is watch. About a minute later, there’s an audible buzz on the livestream, and Connor picks up his phone.

“Aww, guys,” he says, “my dear Romeo just sent me his address. I guess that means we’re finished for now. But I promise, next video will be lots of fun.”

Blowing one last kiss to the camera, Connor ends the livestream and Will slams his computer shut. What did he do? His lungs aren’t working, and he doesn’t know why he did that because he’s not fucking gay. He should text Connor back and tell him not to come over, or clean up his apartment, or do something other than sit here, still in his scrubs, his phone in one hand and a half bottle of beer in the other.

For fifteen minutes, he stays there in indecision until someone knocks on his door, and he knows it’s Connor. He shouldn’t open the door. All of this was a mistake and he’s about to cry. But he goes to the door nonetheless. Smooths down his shirt. Opens the front door to reveal Connor standing there in a tee shirt and sweatpants. There’s no smile on his face.

“I was watching.”

“No kidding.” Connor strolls inside and throws himself down on the couch like he belongs here. He does, in a sense. He was invited. “I knew you would be.”

Will sits down on the coffee table across from him, still holding his beer bottle loosely. “Listen, I uh, I don’t think I want you to, uh, to- to-”

“You think I’d walk in here and just take off my pants, let you fuck me over your kitchen counter?”

“I…”

He laughs that genuine laugh again, the one that fills Will with warmth. “Listen. I get it. You’re repressed as fuck and I’m your nice little experiment and you never actually meant to meet me in person. It’s awkward. If you wanna watch my videos, look at my pictures, then by all means, since you’re paying me to look. But I don’t much appreciate whatever your little meltdown was today, got that? I’m willing to help you out, if you really do wanna ‘explore’ or whatever. But no more bullshit. If I help you, if we fool around, no more of that ‘I’m not gay’ crap.”

“But I’m not.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “And yet, you still watched the livestream.”

Will leans forward a little, enough to reach out a hand and cup Connor’s face. It’s warm, his stubble rough, and his eyes so soft and affectionate. Or something like that. No one has ever really looked at Will like that, except maybe the ex-girlfriend he shared one dull night with in his college days. There’s still a part of him that screams this is wrong, but a louder voice tells him this is the most natural thing he’s ever done.

“You’re in charge here. What do you want?”

He gets off the table to kneel in front of Connor and kiss him, this time without pretenses. It’s a strange feeling, but it makes him feel warm from his lips to his toes and everywhere in between. And better yet, Connor kisses him back, and it’s perfect. This is perfect.

Then it ends. Not because he wanted it to, but because Connor has decided to sit up properly, and he looks so beautiful with pink cheeks and swollen lips and blown wide pupils, all the things that the camera doesn’t show. Here, there’s no ambiguity on what’s happening, and every choice has been placed in Will’s hands so he can’t claim later that it wasn’t his fault or his desire.

“Can I… Can I touch you?”

“Where?” Connor asks softly.

Instead of coming out of his mouth, the words stick like peanut butter and Will can’t make himself say it. He gestures at Connor’s lower stomach, hoping it’s good enough.

“You want to touch my dick?”

Has to be crass, doesn’t he? Will nods, and Connor takes one of his wrists gently and guides it to the crotch of his sweatpants. There’s a bulge beneath the fabric, but he’s not entirely hard yet. Carefully, Will curls his fingers around it and moves his hand just a bit, like he was rubbing himself off through his clothes because it can’t be that different. Of course, he feels Connor slowly get hard, hears his breathing get heavier and faster.

“Just like that, Sunshine,”

Those words shoot down Will’s spine, and he asks, “Can you kiss me again?”

Connor immediately acquiesces, kisses him with a little more intensity. It’s nice, but Will craves more. He wants to be closer, touch more, do more, and for once his brain isn’t reminding him all the things that are wrong with what he’s doing right now. It feels good, and he needs just a little bit more, but he isn’t sure what that would mean.

“You wanna sit in my lap? Might be more comfortable.”

Yes, that sounds wonderful, sounds perfect. Will nods, and suddenly he’s being lifted into Connor’s lap and he can feel, against his ass, how hard Connor is, and that’s something he did. He caused that. With his own hand. In all honesty, Will doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he remembers that in a lot of videos Connor likes to grind against things, so maybe he could be one of those. He squirms a little, not entirely sure of what he’s doing, which makes Connor grab his hips tightly and throw his head back against the couch and make the most intoxicating sound Will thinks he’s ever heard.

“Do that again.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Connor says breathlessly. Now he’s the one moving, lifting his hips off the couch and rubbing himself against Will’s ass. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes?”

Connor stops moving altogether, which is the worst possible thing that could have happened, in Will’s opinion. “Is that a question or an answer?”

“Yes, please touch me.”

“Look at you, so polite.”

He kisses Will again, and then slides a hand between them to wrap around Will’s cock, his palm almost stiflingly hot through the thin fabric of his scrubs. It’s like all the times he’s touched himself, but more, because this is someone else’s hand. This is Connor’s hand, specifically. There’s another man here, touching his dick, rubbing a thumb against the head in a way that has him struggling not to moan, but Will is straight. He doesn’t like men. At this moment, he isn’t sure if he wants to keep going or jump away and throw up into the sink. His chest is fluttering like a butterfly’s wings in a storm.

“What happens next?” he asks between breathless kisses, which, of course, makes Connor laugh all over again.

“Whatever you want. We can just do this, we can stop, we can get naked. It’s all up to you.”

There’s nothing to hide behind now. If Will wants something, he has to ask, and he almost doesn’t want to because it’s easier to just stop now. But he doesn’t want to. He slips his hands under Connor’s shirt and just feels, because he can touch and there’s no reason not to. The hair on his chest is more wiry than soft, he notes, and keeps touching because he can, and he’s allowed to do whatever he chooses right now.

He could come like this. It’s embarrassing as hell, but he might, in his pants, the way he does when rolling his hips into his palm while watching Connor’s videos. The real thing is different, especially the way Connor touches him, the way he feels still grinding up against Will’s ass and moaning without pretense because this is not a show designed to please a viewer. Yet again, he finds himself in love with the real Connor, not the version of him that he sells online.

“I wanna make- I wanna make it good for you,” Will admits. “How do I do that?”

“This feels good enough-”

Will groans and presses his hands harder against Connor’s chest. “I don’t care about ‘good enough.’ I want to- how do I do more?"

“Are you asking if you can fuck me?”

“I don’t know?”

“Do you even have lube?”

He shakes his head, which gets Connor smiling at him again, and it’s blinding. Life changing. “Like I said when I got here, we’re not doing that tonight. I’ll help you get off, but that’s as far as we’re going for now. Okay?”

For now is an implication of more to come later, that Connor will give him the opportunity to do more than whatever is happening now. Will won’t take it, but the thought feels nice. He nods and keeps feeling, touching, taking as Connor makes both of them feel good in a way Will has never experienced before in his life.

“Connor…”

“Don’t. Whatever stupid shit you’re gonna ask me, don’t.”

“No, I- it um, I think…”

Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re going to come?”

Nodding, Will shuts his eyes and focuses on the way all of this feels, the way it overwhelms him. The way Connor takes care of him. He doesn’t have to think, just this once. Instead, he thinks about the way it feels to be touched, to touch, to know that he can do this because it’s good and maybe, just this once, Will deserves something that’s good. Connor doesn’t hesitate, or stop. He keeps touching, keeps making Will feel like he’s on cloud nine, and then the sensations crest and the next thing he knows his eyes are squeezed shut and his face is against Connor’s, cheek to cheek, touching, and it’s perfect.

Then it’s over, but Connor hasn’t stopped moving. He’s still rolling his hips up into Will, still breathing heavy and still needing to be taken care of, and Will panics because he’s past the moment of ecstacy, and he’s here, in a man’s lap, and what just happened isn’t right.

Will stands up and stumbles on shaky legs toward the kitchen. His underwear are wet. Connor is talking to him, but he doesn’t hear it, doesn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears as his hands grab onto the edge of his counter and he leans over his sink to throw up. The magic is gone. All that’s left is pain and fear and disgust and Will has tears on his face.

“Hey, hey, Will? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not gay!”

Connor is quiet, then. Will can feel his presence just a few inches away, wanting to comfort but afraid to touch, his breath still not entirely under control. He doesn’t retort, or bring up what he said when he got here, but just stands there in silence beside Will as he dry heaves over the sink. The smell is awful.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

The second he touches Will’s back, Will jerks away. “Don’t fucking touch me, fuck, fuck-”

“You need to calm down,” Connor says in his ‘crazy patient’ voice. “Will, just a few minutes ago, you were asking about having real sex. Now, you’re… you need to know that it’s okay to like men, Will. There’s nothing wrong with it, wrong with you.”

“Yes there is! Oh my God. I’m gonna throw up again.”

He just dry heaves for the millionth time. But Connor is still there, and rubs between his shoulder blades until he stops. Then he guides him away, toward the hallway, and opens doors until he finds the bathroom.

“You take a hot shower and calm down. I’m gonna let myself out, and you’ll be on your own. If you need, or want, anything, you can always call me. I’ll cover for you if you wanna call out tomorrow. But really, Will, I promise, there’s nothing wrong with liking men.”

Connor leaves, then, and Will looks at his reflection. His hair is all messy and his cheeks are flushed cherry red. But he also sees what’s not there. Imprints of Connor’s hands on him. He’s dirty. He’s broken. He wants to claw off his skin, make this feeling go away. It would be easier.

Instead, he turns the shower on as hot as it gets, strips off his soiled clothes, and steps beneath the spray. Maybe it’ll clear him. He lets the water wash away what he did, even if it still clings in spite of his best efforts to wash everything away. He did something he shouldn’t have, touched something he shouldn’t have. He’s not fucking gay. If his stomach wasn’t empty, he might throw up all over again.

He scrubs himself raw, three times over, before getting out and surrounding himself in a fluffy bath towel. He walks slow, careful, to bed and buries himself in his covers still not completely dried off. It doesn’t matter. First thing in the morning, he has to go to work, and see Connor, and he knows he won’t be able to stop thinking about what happened tonight, especially if he sees Connor. He should call out.

Instead of doing either of those things, he falls asleep.

When he wakes up, it’s because his phone is ringing loudly- not his pager though, which means it’s not the hospital. He smacks it twice before getting a hand around it and sliding the answer button. “Hmm?”

“Hey, I wanted to check on you.”

He damn near throws the phone across the room. ‘What do you want, Connor?”

“Like I said, I wanted to check on you. You seemed pretty freaked out last night, and I uh, I feel bad about it. Thought I should make sure you’re okay. And if you’re up to it, I could come make you breakfast? Eggs, bacon, some orange juice. Maybe pancakes. Whatever you want.”

“Connor.”

“Please, let me? I promise I won’t do anything untoward.”

Will sits up and pushes his hair out of his face. “Okay, but I don’t have anything here.”

“I’ll stop by the store, don’t worry. See you in ten to fifteen.”

Connor hands up, then, and Will is left to think about what this means. Over the last day, things have been confusing, terrifying, wrong. He isn’t sure what happens now. Obviously, Connor is angry with him, and this could very well be an excuse to yell at him or hurt him. The last thing Will should’ve done is say yes. But it’s too late now, so he just forces himself out of bed and puts on clean clothes, runs his hands through his hair to try and tame it. There isn’t time. He doesn’t have time.

The time goes so quickly, but also too slowly, until someone knocks on his door and he opens it for Connor, arms laden with two grocery bags and dark bags under his eyes like he didn’t sleep last night, like he took this harder than Will did.

“You’ll have to show me where the dishes are,” Connor says.

Nothing else. He’s quiet, but proud in the way he stands with his shoulders in a perfect line, the way his torso cuts in slimmer at his waist, the way his hip cocks outward to shut a drawer after pulling a spatula free. He’s cracking the eggs in the blink of an eye, whisking them together in a bowl as he throws butter into the pan, and it feels domestic. Like something that would happen if they loved each other, if they had something worthwhile.

“I-”

“Shush,” Connor says. “I’m making you breakfast, and while you eat, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. Am I clear?”

Will nods and takes a seat at his table to just watch, because he can’t do anything better. Connor fries bacon as he scrambles eggs, humming to himself, too at ease for what happened between them. But it’s peaceful, and Will almost enjoys watching. The smell of something good cooking in his house, the crackling sound of grease, the slow bubble of orange juice poured into a glass. The last time someone cooked for him had to be before he left home.

It only takes a few minutes, but then a plate is served in front of him alongside a glass, and Connor smiles at him before sitting down. He has this urge to kiss him, but Will knows better. He’s not gay. And he’s fucked up enough at one time. So he doesn’t, he just cuts into the egg with his fork and starts eating while Connor studies him closely.

“Obviously, I made a mistake last night. Not because you aren’t attractive, but because it’s clear that you aren’t ready to admit that you’re gay, or bi, or- in whatever capacity- attracted to men. What happened last night, me coming over here, it wasn’t okay. Not for you, and absolutely not for me. It is not my job to coddle you, or show you the ropes, or help you through your crisis. It’s not fair to me.”

It isn’t fair, but Will wants it in a way he can’t entirely understand.

“So I’m not going to keep this up. I’m not going to kiss you, I’m not going to touch you, and I’m certainly not going to provoke you. That livestream, what I said was inappropriate. My actions, both then and everything that came after, weren’t okay, and I’m sorry for that.”

Connor shifts in his seat, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. WIll’s always hated his wallet, because it’s made of that expensive leather and it’s thick and he has all these cards and all this cash in it. Not because of his second job, but because the world has always been in Connor’s back pocket. It’s no wonder he never had to worry about being read as gay.

He pulls out two business cards and sets them on the table in front of Will. One has an icon on it of a heart, half rainbow and half some weird stripe design of blue, pink and white. The other is more professional and sleek.

“These are for people who can help. That one, that’s a support group I went to when I was younger. Maybe sixteen, seventeen. I went for a couple. It’s full of people of all ages, just like you, who are figuring out who they are. And this one is for a really good therapist who helps people struggling with their identity. Some of them are gay, or trans, or just people who are having an identity crisis about who they wanna be when they grow up. Either of them, or both, could really help you. But it isn’t my job, okay? I’ll support you however you want or need, but it isn’t my job to completely get you through this.”

Will picks up the two cards. They’re slick, smooth in his hand. Light as a feather but still incredibly heavy with their meaning. He holds them, looks at the little heart on the first card and wonders what it would be like just to go, just to see other people like him who might be struggling with the same thoughts.

“What’s the other half of this,” he asks instead of trying to keep processing. “Next to the rainbow.”

“That’s the trans pride flag. You know what that is, I assume?”

“Yeah, I know what being transgender is.”

Connor nods and Will doesn’t know entirely what to do next besides keep eating and stare at the cards.

“Just remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. Me, and the people on these business cards, we’re all family.”

#mine #fic #rhodestead #connor rhodes #will halstead #idek what this is jhkfjg

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mcjour · 3 years ago

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my cat is dying.

i know i get paranoid and anxious about this all the time and always think it’s happening soon but this time it is legit (i think...)

she’s 18, so like, as much as i hate to say it, maybe it is time. she lived a long and happy life, there’s really not a lot that can be done to prolong her life at this point.

for a few days, she stopped eating altogether. so it was very much a “this is it” feeling.

my mom says it’s because of the pills we had to give her. they were causing her to lose her appetite. i mean... maybe? that’s definitely a very possible possibility. but it’s weird how confident she is in that. like.... it could just be that she’s old and ready to die. she took the pills no problem for a few weeks and if anything she ate more food.

anyway we decided to stop giving her the pills. and basically just give her whatever she wants as far as food goes. at least then she will die happy.

so she is eating a little more, but certainly not a lot. i’ve seen her eat a couple bites of wet food, my mom has seen her eat a couple bites of dry food. and then she will of course eat treats and/or human food LOL. So she ate some of my turkey and cheese at lunch and some of my chicken nuggets at dinner. and i’ve given her a tube of puree treats each night too. so definitely better than a few days ago when she was eating ~nothing~ but still.... really not enough. i mean she is small and she’s old so i’m sure she doesn’t need quite as much energy as she once did, but like she is skinny, always has been, so if anything she needs to gain more weight than lose it. in fact, the pills were hopefully going to help her gain weight (the pills were for hyperthyroidism or whatever it’s called). and i really believed it for a couple weeks. she was having no problem taking the pills (hidden in her food), adjusting to a new kidney sensitive diet. she did HATE the ear drops (for an ear infection), and i felt really bad about it. At first I thought she stopped eating because of that. she hid under the bed more, presumably so i wouldn’t grab her put the drops in. so when she stopped eating, i thought it was kinda my fault. she didn’t want to come out and eat in fear i would pick her up. well it’s been about a week since i put the last drops in and she comes out now, trusts me again, but that wasn’t enough to bring her appetite back.

i thought she would die within the week. i mean... you can’t not eat and live very long. and i guess specifically cats who don’t eat can die very quickly because their bodies really can’t process stored fat into energy so it would like destory the kidneys or something. idk. not that she even has any stored fat lol. but like just reading that was kinda like ok, this is definitely the end.

but now that she’s kinda eating again, it’s like ??? ok? i’m glad you are eating again but how long is this going to last? like i think she extended her life a little bit, maybe it won’t be this week, but this can’t last more than a couple weeks, maybe a couple months if we’re lucky. but is it really lucky if all you can think about when you look at her is how she could drop dead any day now

she has become extra cuddly lately. she wants to be by my side 24/7 now. i appreciate it, love to be able to spend every waking moment of her final days together. but it makes me wonder.... does she know? is she trying to make sure she goes with me by her side?

this is weird but i feel like she is holding on for me to get a job offer. which sounds a little silly, cats aren’t necessarily privy to that kind of information LOL. but i kinda wonder if she wants to make sure i am set up for success when she leaves me. idk i can’t articulate it. but making sure i move onto my next part of life. i’ve been stuck in this rut for a while and she wants to see me out of it. and i know that’s silly. but my other cat, he died a couple days after my spring break in college one year. it felt as though he held on long enough to see me one last time, for me to say goodbye. now, i am sure stories like this are just coincidences and not something necessarily in the cat or human’s control, but it’s a little comforting to believe something like that. granted, she didn’t need to pick the week i was inteviewing for a couple jobs to stress me out!! lol

i know her death will fuck me up. it already is and it hasn’t even happened yet.

she is ~18.3 and i’ve had her for 17.5 years. like that’s the majority of my life. and she has helped me through some really really tough shit. she’s always been very in tune to my emotions. like, she’s raised me more than any human has. idk. i don’t want to go into it here. but she is my whole world and more.

and i hate myself for thinking this way but i’ve already been thinking about adopting another cat. like... i don’t want to feel like i am replacing her, but holy shit i can’t live in this house without a cat. i mean, ideally maybe my therapist could help me with a non cat codependent coping mechanism LOL. but in general my life would be empty without a cat in it. my mom has warned me for years now that she is not getting another pet, and so while i am welcome to get another cat one day, it will be 100% mine and when i move out i need to take it with me. which is fine, just another layer to think about re: budgeting for a cat, finding a pet friendly place to live, etc. at first i was kinda like ughh that complicates things, but now my cat’s death is potentially coming up soon and i don’t plan on moving out ~soon~ (i mean, i still need a job LOL) i am thinking i very well may go for it. but still, thinking about kittens makes me feel so awful and guilty. i catch myself looking up adoptable pets from time to time and i feel awful about that too. i mean, i don’t take it super seriously... i would hope that any currently adoptable pets would be adopted by the time she dies and i would be ready to adopt. so like i’m not adding any specific pets to a wishlist or some shit, like just looking at the cute pics. but it still feels so wrong.

LMAO also of course my therapist is on vacation this week!!!! (i mean good for her and if i really needed her i could contact her and all that but just l m a o at the coincidence)

idk. i’m just sad.

i know cats can’t live forever and she’s already lived way longer than a lot of cats so i am very lucky for the time i did get with her, but damn

i will try to make her last days, whether it is days, weeks months, happy

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chibinekochan · 7 years ago

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What kind of Christmas shoppers are the RFA - bonus minor trio

I was doing this today and during my own trip I thought it would be funny to write. Yay for finally doing the minor trio again.

Feel free to tag yourself.

*I'm V*

Zen

Not really that subtle shopper -

He thinks the entire year of the perfect gift.

He often thinks this would be perfect for you, just to overthink it again.

He really wants to surprise you with the perfect present.

When he finally goes a week before Christmas to buy the picked present, he always finds something else.

There is just so much that Zen would love to buy you.

When he is done he idms really happy and sparkles with excitement.

Zen is giddy for the day that you open it.

He also loves dropping hints, just to entice you more.

You already kinda have an idea what you get, but he has just has so much fun with being your Santa that you play along.

He somehow always gets something you really love, even when it never was on your wishlist.

Jaehee

The super prepared gifter -

Has a list of things that you really want and really need.

Then sets out a budget and looks for deals.

Is ready for Christmas like two months early.

Only spends sometimes a bit more than planned, because she finds some small little extra that just fits perfectly to your presents.

You can try guessing what you get, but she will not tell you.

Jaehee finds it cute when you try to get information.

Sometimes she has to stop you from buying something, then you know, but also does this just to make you guess again.

Finds this more enjoyable than she admits.

Yoosung

Kinda not really prepared at all -

You both try to make wishlists, but it's just hard.

Sometimes you come up with something but when you don't then well it's hard.

You both set a money limit and go shopping.

Yoosung finds something nice for you, even when he is not sure if you really like it.

He ends up asking the RFA for help, but then gets what he thinks will suit best.

Ever spends more than he wants.

Somehow bumps into you, you both try to not give anything away.

A blushing mess, if he bought lingerie.

He hides the presents between his socks.

You always love the way he packs everything, it's so pretty, you feel bad opening it.

You ever love what he buys.

Jumin

Has a ten year plan of gifts -

He is so over prepared it's not even funny.

Has long lists of presents for you.

A extra one just for Christmas, just with the thinks you always wanted, but never even dared to tell anyone.

How did he figured it out ? No one knows

He also spends way too much money on gifts, you try to make some limit, but how can you put a price label on love ? *Well, by not buying a island for once. I mean one can only own so many tropical islands you know Jumin*

He plans the whole day to be your dream Christmas it's so awesome and sweet.

Somehow you never can guess what he bought, he hides it extremely well.

You never figure out his secret stash, you just can wonder how he got everything in the penthouse.

*He is secretly Santa Claus*

Jumin always surprises you and is just so happy when you smile.

707

Has no plan what so ever, but then he kinda does -

He sometimes thinks about what to get you, but he just doesn't know.

It should somehow show what you mean to him, but also something that you want.

When the time comes closer he browses online, but he just can't find anything.

He kinda even start to panic, since it's almost time.

Just a few days before Christmas he has this idea, he works endlessly on it.

Until the last minute before wrapping everything up.

He is so nervous that you dislike it that he also got this think you looked at first a while just a week ago.

He is barely done in time.

You really love what he made for you *there is a good chance it will spit fire, but it's the sweetest thing you have ever seen regardless*

You also love the other gift, you are really happy.

He swears to himself to get better but honestly it's the only way for him.

Minor trio - just in case you want to skip

He rather buys the presents together with you -

He has some bad experience with surprise gifts, and he never really knows what he wants.

He also loves to have a shopping date with you.

He just likes picking everything together out with you, especially when it's clothing.

He still gets something small as a surprise for you, mostly jewelry.

Even when it's not a surprise V still wraps your presents.

He does his best, but packing is not his strong point.

You still love it regardless, you also get him a small extra gift.

Both of you are super happy.

Saeran

What is this Christmas you talk about *actually makes his own gifts* -

He never cared about this at all, but now he has to because of his stupid brother, and because of you.

Well now where he has to it he has really no choice.

Saeran spends time thinking, browsing around.

Nothing really seems right, that is until he finds diy projects.

At first he does something easy, finding it kinda fun and relaxing.

He then even finds something that he could do for you.

This will be better than some bought stuff, it also prevents him from going outside, and having to deal with those humans.

He really works hard, even makes something for everyone.

Even for his brother.

When he gives you the present you are so surprised, since you never expected him to just do it.

It's just so sweet that you almost cry, his brother actually does cry.

It's a mess, Saeran hates the fuss.

He will do it again anyways, is secretly extremely happy whenever you use his gift.

Vanderwood

Completely forgets the existence of Christmas -

Aka last minute shopper.

He literally came in just to see that it's Christmas.

He realized that he not got anything, well darn it.

Somehow there are presents for him.

How did this happen ? Vanderwood literally is Christmas blind.

He storms out, pretending to get the presents from the car, comes back 5 hours later.

With thinks he packed in newspaper, pretending it's good for the environment.

Got motor oil, well 707 can use it.

Everyone pretends that they don't know it, you find it nice that he cared so much.

You actually not expected anything in return.

Vanderwood swears he makes it better next year, he is really trying.

Take a look at my Masterlist my requests are open so drop by !

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm headcanons #rfa #minor trio #zen #yoosung #jaehee #jumin #707 #v #saeran #vanderwood #christmas

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mistressofmuses · 7 years ago

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What Were the Odds?

Jesse was the first awake, and it was very tempting not to get up. The bed was warm, Natalie and Yvette were both still sound asleep, and dragging himself out the door to go shopping was one of the absolute least appealing things he could imagine. But he’d had one of those realizations—one of those wake-you-up-at-3-am-in-a-cold-sweat realizations—that he hadn’t done his Christmas shopping yet. He’d been putting it off for more than a week, always finding a reason to push it forward, and he was rapidly running out of days to push it to.

Today was one of the few days all three of them had off, so he was loath to spend it elsewhere, but it had to get done.

He slid out of bed, made coffee to fortify himself against the early hour and the winter air, and then headed out into the cold to visit the mall.

Natalie’s alarm on her phone went off, and she’d shut it off within a second, the reaction to that particular tone ingrained into every fiber of her being, awake or asleep. She’d shut it off fast enough that Yvette hadn’t even stirred.

She got dressed in the dark in the bedroom so she wouldn’t disturb her girlfriend, and then started on making breakfast. Jesse had already made coffee, as usual, a fact for which she remained profoundly grateful every single morning. They all hated fighting with the cranky old coffee maker, but he seemed to have slightly more success than she did, despite being the one who hated it the most. He’d left a sticky note on the top of the old machine, the message written in his tiny, precise writing.

Hey, loves. I’m going to be gone for at least a few hours running errands. Send me a text if you need anything while I’m out! You two have a good day. Love you! –J

She finished cooking her pancakes and sat down to eat. At least she wasn’t the only one who’d be out running errands. She’d managed to cross everyone off her Christmas list except for the two most important people: Yvette and Jesse. She knew what she was getting them, but had to actually get the items. Hopefully Jesse’s errands wouldn’t take him near the mall.

Yvette’s phone buzzed, alerting her to a new email. “SHIPPING NOTICE:” was the subject line, and she opened the message.

Due to weather along the shipping route, all shipments have been delayed by up to five days. We have refunded any priority shipping charges, and apologize for the inconvenience caused by the delay. New anticipated arrival date is December 28.

“Shiiiiiit,” she groaned. There went those Christmas gifts. She’d still give them to Jesse and Natalie, of course, but wrapping up an IOU under the tree was no fun. She had to get them something for the day itself. She was the last one in bed that morning, taking full advantage of the day off. At least that meant she had time to go shopping today.

She heard the front door close, alerting her that someone else had just left the house.

Yvette got dressed in what felt like record time, running a brush and some gel through her short, spiky hair, and grabbed her wallet.

Getting downstairs, the whole house smelled delicious, though no one seemed to be around. There was a covered plate on the stove with a note in Natalie’s nice cursive.

Morning, Yvie! Help yourself to pancakes! I’m heading out to run some errands, and it sounds like Jesse will be out for a while, too. Let either of us know if you need something. There’s some coffee in the pot, too.

Yvette couldn’t restrain a joyous sound at the note, pulling back the cover and looking at the pancakes. Natalie’s cooking was never something to be missed. And they were still slightly warm. Taking a bite, she tried to identify the flavors—Nat was always trying new combinations. She thought that today’s were almond, orange zest, and… some spice she couldn’t name. And there was a very light, clearly homemade, orange syrup in a jar when she opened the fridge.

It was well worth the extra ten minutes she sacrificed to enjoy them.

Jesse hoped to be in and out of the mall as quickly as possible, gifts in hand, so he could get home and spend the day with his girlfriends. Sadly, it was not to be. Even getting there a mere twenty minutes after the mall opened didn’t save him from the crowds. Navigating the walkways was an exercise in patience and judging how to dodge between hazards.

He visited a clothing store first, hoping it would have things that suited both Yvie’s and Natalie’s wildly different styles. His luck started off all right, finding a long pastel scarf that would be perfect for Nat. And a black fitted t-shirt with the words “Shopping Maul” on the front in gold was absolutely the kind of thing Yvette would wear.

It was his second goal of the day where his luck ran out, because just as he was about to make a move toward the door of a kitchen gadgetry store, he saw Natalie walking the opposite way through the crowds. He altered his course, cutting in the middle of a large family group, and ducked behind a kiosk so she wouldn’t see him. He ignored the man in charge of the kiosk, who was trying to sell him on the benefits of whatever too-good-to-be-true miracle product he was hawking, in favor of sneaking a look past the edge. He saw Nat heading into the same store he’d been planning on going into, blonde ponytail swaying.

He breathed a sigh of relief at having been lucky enough to see her before they’d wound up in the same store, but of course it figured that she’d come to the mall on the same day that he did. He’d just have to try to avoid anyplace else she was likely to go.

When Natalie pulled into the mall parking lot, she almost couldn’t believe it. The car she’d pulled in next to was Jesse’s car. Glancing through the passenger side window and seeing his novelty geek steering wheel cover confirmed it. She groaned out loud, smacking her head lightly against her own steering wheel. Of course he’d left early to come here. Well, with hundreds or thousands of people here, how likely was it really that they’d run into each other?

Her first store was safe; her absolute favorite kitchen supply store. She glanced wistfully at some of the aisles containing items off of her wishlist, but wasn’t here for herself. Instead, she headed straight for a display of high-tech automatic coffee makers. While it was the kind of gift all three of them would use, Jesse by far would be saved the most hassle by replacing the piece of junk they currently relied on. She found one that seemed the best suited to their needs, and grabbed a package of reusable self-fillable pods as well. The process of checking out took far longer than usual. The poor cashier was by herself, and the line was stretching into one of the aisles.

After making sure it was okay for her to come back and pick the heavy coffee maker up at the end of her shopping trip, she headed out for her second destination; a high-end makeup store.

They had an enormous limited edition eyeshadow palette that Yvette had been drooling over, but had lamented being unable to justify buying for herself. It contained a rainbow of vibrant, jewel-toned and metallic shades that looked stunning on Yvie. Anything that bright tended to look garish on Natalie, but Yvette could make anything look like she was ready for a photoshoot. And Natalie was (slightly selfishly, but mainly appreciatively) looking forward to seeing the looks she created.

She just had to make it back to the kitchen supply store to pick up the coffee maker, and then she’d be free.

Until she literally ran into someone she hadn’t been expecting. Not Jesse. Yvette.

“Yvie!” she squeaked, hiding the tell-tale bag behind her back. If Yvette saw it, she’d absolutely know what was likely to be inside.

“Natalie!” Yvie jumped as much as Nat had, though she recovered a bit faster. “How’s it going, stranger?” she asked, winking and aiming a finger gun at Nat, while trying to hide her own bag behind her back with her other hand.

“Pretty good,” Natalie said. “Just, er, picking up a couple things. Here. At the mall.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Those pancakes were amazing! What were they? I got almond and orange and?”

“Cardamom!” Natalie said. “Thanks! They did turn out pretty well.”

“So… I have to get… going…” Yvette said, starting to edge around Natalie while keeping her bag behind her back.

Natalie turned with her, in order to keep her own bag out of sight.

After they’d managed a total 180 degree turn, Yvie darted forward, pressing a quick kiss to Natalie’s lips. “See you at home in a little while!” Then she ducked into a large group of shoppers and vanished into the crowd.

Natalie smiled as she headed to pick up Jesse’s gift.

Yvette let out a sigh of relief as soon as she was out of sight of Natalie. She thought she’d managed to keep the bag containing the box of extremely high-end chocolate out of sight.

She’d spent quite a while picking them out. Varieties of chocolate combined with unlikely flavors like “rose petal” and “chai pear cordial.” Yvette had always been fond of mostly the basics: dark, milk, and white chocolate, maybe with caramel or nuts, or chocolate covered fruit if she was feeling especially fancy. But Natalie loved unexpected flavors, and the things that Yvie found bizarre were the sorts of things she adored.

Finally catching her breath, she headed for her last stop, the bookstore.

She wanted to get Jesse one of his favorite trilogies of books that had just been released in new editions. He’d been so excited about them, thrilled that they contained new short stories and whatever the writer version of liner notes would be called. But he hadn’t gotten them because he already had the books themselves, and didn’t want to blow his book budget. Which, as far as Yvie was concerned, made them perfect as a gift.

She’d just picked up the three books, when she caught sight of the one other person she was hoping to avoid running into coming around the corner of the shelf. Jesse.

She backpedaled so fast she almost dropped her armload of books, but made it around the far end before he saw her, though she bumped an end display, knocking several other books to the floor.

“Crap!” she said before darting into another aisle. She’d come back to pick up the books. If he hadn’t already noticed her, having said something out loud was going to make it a lot more likely he would.

Feeling silly, she crouched down and glanced around the edge of the shelf, and saw him picking up the books she’d knocked down. He glanced around, but didn’t seem to see her.

“Yvie?” he asked.

She bit her lip and tried to keep from laughing. If he wasn’t sure she was there, she wasn’t going confirm it.

Finally he left, and she felt she’d killed enough time to make it safe to check out.

Jesse walked back to the car, scarf and extensive set of silicone baking molds for Natalie, and the shirt and a set of queer-themed comics for Yvette safely acquired. Natalie hadn’t seen him, at least. He was almost positive he’d heard Yvie in the bookstore, but maybe it had been his imagination. What were the odds that all three of them separately wound up at the mall on the same day?

Natalie was the first one to get home, which was a relief. Jesse’s car had still been there when she left, so maybe he wouldn’t even know she’d been to the mall today. Yvie knew she’d been there but hadn’t seen her gift, Natalie was pretty sure. Now she had time to hide her presents away before either of her lovers caught sight of incriminating bags. Really, what were the odds that all three of them had gone to the mall at the same time?

Yvette hid her purchases in a canvas bag so that she could bring them into the house without anyone seeing what they were. Being the last one to pull into the driveway, she had to laugh a little. If they’d known, they could have just carpooled. But what were the odds that the three of them had all had the same destination in mind?

@yourbookcouldbegayer

Prompt was: "Two or more of your characters have just realized they didn’t get anything for each other for the holidays! They all rush to the nearest shopping center, coincidentally on the same day, and desperately attempt to not let them see each other. Or, if they do see each other they try to play it off real cool like and try to hide the presents.”

For being another slice-of-life happy fluff story, I actually enjoy this one quite a bit. :) Maybe because I spent a good chunk of today doing my holiday shopping...

#day7ofgay #lgbtq+ fiction #genre: slice of life #rating: pg #bi character #queer character #polyamorous relationship #(i've been tagging character's sexualities based on how they would id themselves so if some seem redundant or missing that could be why)#my writing #short fiction #original fiction #holigays 2017

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cutsliceddiced · 4 years ago

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New top story from Time: COVID-19 Has Been ‘Apocalyptic’ for Public Transit. Will Congress Offer More Help?

While trying to get to work over the past few months, Brittany Williams, a Seattle home care worker, has often been passed by two or three buses before one stops to let her board. Buses in her area that once carried anywhere from about 50 to 100 passengers have been limited to between 12 and 18 to prevent overcrowding in response to coronavirus, and Williams’ commute, typically a half-hour ride, now takes more than double that time. Other Seattle transit riders have described budgeting as much as an extra hour per trip to account for the reduced capacity, eating into their time at work, school or with family.

Even with the ridership limits in place, Williams, 34, doesn’t feel safe on public transit. Some passengers don’t wear face coverings, and bus drivers sometimes ignore capacity limits, she says. On one ride with her seven-year-old son, she decided to get off at a stop far from her home after a driver allowed a crowd of people to board. “It’s very trying. I’ll put it in those terms,” Williams says. “These past couple months have been really hard.” (Seattle’s public transit operator, King County Metro, says it’s asking customers to allow for additional travel time, and that it has instructed drivers to call in more service on overcrowded routes.)

Adding more buses could help boost capacity while reducing overcrowding. But King Country Metro is in dire financial straits, making that next to impossible. System officials are projecting what they’re calling an “unprecedented loss” of more than a quarter of a billion dollars this year due to falling fare revenue and sales tax collections. While King County Metro received some federal aid for short-term survival, its prospects in the longer term are dismal, with the agency projecting more than $600 million in lost revenues through 2022. Last month, the agency announced fall service would be cut 15% from pre-coronavirus levels.

What’s happening to public transit in Seattle is happening across the country. Public transit use has plummeted nationwide as people work from home or avoid buses and subways for fear of contracting COVID-19, resulting in less revenue from fares. And as the economy cratered, so too have the tax revenues upon many which many transit systems rely. Philadelphia’s SEPTA is looking at upwards of $300 million in lost revenue through mid-2021. Maryland’s Transportation Trust Fund is contending with a $550 million shortfall in the fiscal year ending June 30, with similar losses expected next year. Los Angeles Metro is preparing for $1.8 billion in pandemic-related revenue losses. Chicago’s CTA is facing a half-billion dollar falloff in 2020. “I’ve been in this industry for over 30 years, and I have never experienced anything like what we’ve been dealing with in this pandemic,” says CTA President Dorval Carter, Jr. “There was no playbook for what we encountered.” In New York City, home to the largest transportation agency in the country, losses could add up to a staggering $8.5 billion in 2020. “‘Apocalyptic’ is a good description,” says Sarah Feinberg, who was appointed interim president of New York City Transit after the resignation of former president Andy Byford in January following repeated, high-profile clashes with New York governor Andrew Cuomo.

In these cities and more, public transit is the backbone of the local economy, and serves a wide swath of residents across socio-economic groups. If cities are to recover post-COVID, a thriving public transit system will surely have to be part of the mix.

Economically, U.S. public transit systems have endured a devastating one-two punch. Ridership rates have been decimated (subway ridership was down as much as 92% in New York at the height of the outbreak there) severely cutting into fare collections. And with the economy floundering more broadly, tax revenues that help subsidize transit systems have also taken a dramatic hit. But many transit systems’ costs are up as they engage in expensive cleaning campaigns meant to keep their buses and trains safe. Furthermore, many systems have been reluctant to cut service, which could result in dangerous overcrowding that could exacerbate viral spread.

David L. Ryan—The Boston Globe/Getty ImagesWearing a protective mask, Alejandra Ceja with S.J. Cleaning Services wipes down the window of a bus at the MBTA Charlestown bus garage during COVID-19 pandemic in Boston on May 15, 2020.

Some help has already pulled into the station. The CARES Act, a $2.2 trillion stimulus bill signed in March, included $25 billion for public transportation relief, which covered some of this year’s funding gaps. But as the COVID-19 crisis worsens in much of the country, it’s becoming clear that the nation’s transit systems will need more help from Congress. An independent analysis commissioned by the American Public Transportation Association (APTA), a non-profit advocacy group, found that, even after the CARES Act, public transit agencies nationwide still face a $23.8 billion shortfall through the end of 2021. “The CARES Act probably put a band-aid on the problem,” says Robert Puentes, president of the non-profit Eno Center for Transportation.

Another big issue with the CARES Act: the formula used to divvy out the funding gave enough money to smaller transit agencies to tide them over for a longer stretch of time, but left larger systems with only a few months of respite, according to an analysis by TransitCenter, a transit advocacy group. (That’s partially because larger transit systems tend to rely less on government funding, and more on fares and dedicated taxes, two income streams that the analysis projected would take a bigger hit during the pandemic.) Those major systems not only carry the most riders, some are also located in areas hardest-hit by COVID-19 early on, like New York and Seattle. For the 10 largest transit systems, the analysts estimated that the CARES Act funds would cover shortfalls for about five to eight months. In Seattle and New York City, which got 15% of the total CARES Act relief despite handling more than a third of national transit ridership, the funds were predicted to last less than six months.

More help from Washington could be on the way. Congress returned to work on July 20, and passing further COVID-related economic relief is top of mind for most lawmakers. But it’s unclear what the next major relief bill might look like. Back in May, House Democrats passed the $3 trillion HEROES Act, which included nearly $16 billion for public transit assistance, aimed primarily at the big systems that got relatively stiffed by the CARES Act. But Republicans called the bill a “liberal wishlist,” and the GOP-controlled Senate has refused to take it up. Republican leaders are expected to unveil their version of a relief bill as soon as this week. With August recess quickly approaching and plenty of political points on the line, it’s likely that Congress will pass some form of additional relief soon—what such a bill will ultimately include for buses, subways and rail is, at this point, anybody’s guess.

Not everybody is mourning the sorry state of American public transit. Some have long viewed it as a waste of government spending and resources, and say we’re better off letting it die. Transit opponents often point to data showing that national ridership had been slumping since 2014 as evidence that Americans were choosing other forms of transportation even before the pandemic, though the dropoff began to reverse last year.

“We had very strong trends before the pandemic that transit was becoming, outside of New York City, increasingly insignificant and irrelevant in America,” says Randal O’Toole, a senior fellow at the Cato Institute, a libertarian think tank. “What the pandemic has done is just underscored that and accelerated that and maybe in some places brought it to a final conclusion.”

But public transit’s defenders have a laundry list of reasons why it ought to be saved: it reduces the number of private vehicles on the road (generally meaning better air quality and less congestion); it results in fewer fatal car wrecks; and, when done well, makes urban mobility more accessible across socio-economic groups. “You can decry what you see as an inefficient system, but I don’t know how you have a functioning economy without people being able to get to their jobs,” says Beth Osborne, director of advocacy group Transportation for America.

For those who don’t rely on mass transit, heated debates over budget cuts, canceled routes and so on seem far afield. But transit is a lifeline for millions of Americans. Take, for example, the nearly half-million Chicago-area residents who live in “transit deserts.” Long before the pandemic, areas like the city’s Far South Side were starved for transit options, making it difficult for residents to get to work and access other essential resources. If Chicago’s CTA winds up reducing service even further because of COVID-related funding issues, advocates say, such a move could disproportionately affect people who’ve already been cut off from the rest of their city.

“If they cut service any more that would be a tragic thing for people who depend on transportation, not just to go to work but just to get to the grocery store,” says Andrea Reed, a transit advocate and co-chair of the Coalition for a Modern Metra Electric, a local advocacy group. “They can’t cut where people are already down and hurting.”

Christopher Dilts—Bloomberg/Getty ImagesA commuter wearing a protective mask looks at a mobile device while riding a Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) train in Chicago, Illinois, U.S., on Wednesday, June 3, 2020.

Any cuts in public transit service stand to disproportionately impact non-white Americans, who have already beared the brunt of the pandemic in so many other ways. People of color account for less than 40% of the U.S. population, but make up 60% of transit riders, according to the APTA. Further underscoring non-white Americans’ reliance on public transit, a CityLab analysis published in June found that, during a period at the height of the outbreak in New York, subway ridership dropped substantially more in whiter neighborhoods compared to less-white areas, perhaps because white New Yorkers were more likely to be able to work from home or afford alternate modes of transportation, like Uber rides. Furthermore, public transit has throughout the pandemic offered essential workers of color from doctors and nurses to kitchen staff a reliable way to get to their jobs; 67% of essential workers using transit are non-white, according to an April TransitCenter analysis.

With these disparities in mind, some transit agencies are trying to ensure equitable service amid the pandemic, despite the drain on their resources. Chicago’s CTA, for example, has been running at full service since the beginning of the outbreak in an effort to avoid overcrowding. “We had to make very tough operational decisions that were not necessarily in the financial best interests of the CTA, but were necessary because we recognize the importance of the people we were serving,” says Carter, the CTA president.

But good intentions don’t negate financial realities. “When the CARES Act money runs out, I don’t know what the system’s going to do,” says Stephen Schlickman, former executive director of the Regional Transportation Authority of Northeastern Illinois (RTA) which oversees the CTA. “This pandemic is clearly going to go into next year. The COVID money is expected to maybe stretch into early next year, so what happens after that? It’s a big unknown.”

Perhaps nowhere is public transit more vital, or the budget crisis more serious, than in New York City. The Metropolitan Transportation Authority, which oversees the city’s subways, busses and commuter rail lines, dwarfs other U.S. transit agencies in size, serving a colossal 40% of the nation’s total public transit users. Over the spring, New York City experienced what remains, for now, the worst coronavirus outbreak in the U.S.: more than 226,000 people have tested positive in the five boroughs as of July 20, and nearly 23,000 have died. Ridership in the city plummeted as people stayed home or sought out alternate modes of transportation they perceived to be safer. Furthermore, the city’s transit workers were hit particularly badly: more than 4,000 MTA employees have gotten sick so far, and 131 died. “It’s like being in a hospital, but without [personal protective equipment],” says MTA subway conductor William Mora, 50, who was out of work for a month with COVID-19; two coworkers he knew died of the virus.

The MTA received the most CARES Act money—$3.9 billion—of any public transit agency, but it was still shortchanged relative to its size, according to a TransitCenter analysis. The MTA, which anticipates a $10.3 billion loss through 2021, expects to burn through its CARES Act funds this month; it requested nearly $4 billion in more federal relief back in April.

“This is just the worst of all possible outcomes if we don’t get federal help,” says Andrew Albert, chair of the Permanent Citizens Advisory Committee to the MTA (PCAC) which represents riders’ interests. He cites the possibility of layoffs, service cuts, fare hikes or even abandonment of transit lines. “I just don’t want to anticipate what could be happening,” Albert says.

The pandemic struck just as the MTA was turning a corner. Subway on-time performance had been deteriorating for years. Safety was becoming an issue, too, underscored by a 2017 subway derailment that left 34 people injured. But just before COVID-19 struck, reliability was improving, with weekday on-time performance hitting 83.3% in January, up from a dismal 58.1% two years prior. A massive $51.5 billion capital investment plan went into effect at the start of 2020, $15 billion of which was to be funded by a new congestion pricing plan wherein drivers would be charged when entering the heart of Manhattan. But the pandemic and ensuing chaos has left that plan facing about a year of delays due to holdups over a Federal Highway Administration environmental review. Transit insiders say the New York system now stands to lose its recent progress.

“Right now we’re seeing that the region is coming out of pause, but the MTA is going into pause as relates to its construction program, and that could have even more long-lasting, dire consequences, not just for riders but for the entire economy of the region,” says Lisa Daglian, the PCAC Executive Director.

Robert Nickelsberg—Getty ImagesA passenger wearing a surgical mask a daily newspaper while riding an uptown subway in New York City on March 18, 2020.

Public transit’s future is equally uncertain nationwide. While it’s likely many systems will receive at least some federal help, that probably will not be enough to get them off life support, at least until some degree of normality returns. Despite studies that show fears of COVID-19 infection on mass transit could be overblown, it may not be until a vaccine is widely available that riders who have a choice between private and public transportation will feel safe enough to once again pack into buses and subway cars. “People are expected to keep away from each other, and that just doesn’t work out for mass transportation,” says Schlickman, the former Illinois RTA boss.

Some transit advocates see opportunity in this crisis. In an effort to free up badly needed public space for safe enjoyment of the outdoors, many cities across the U.S. and worldwide have closed some streets or entire areas to car traffic. As residents saw first-hand the benefits of having fewer cars around—more space, safer streets, less air and noise pollution—some cities have moved to make those changes permanent. Seattle, for instance, closed 20 miles of streets to most cars in May. Other cities are building or revamping their cycling infrastructure, opening up yet another form of transportation for many residents. “If we use this as an opportunity to do a makeover of our transit systems, our transit funding, and our transit infrastructure itself, we could come out of this exceptionally strong,” says Alex Hudson, executive director of Seattle-based nonprofit Transportation Choices Coalition.

But in general, the mood among transportation officials and advocates is far from cheery. Large systems still await short-term relief, while a gigantic new infrastructure proposal has stalled in a deadlocked Congress. Transit planners have little to go on in guessing when the money, and riders, will return. If transit systems are left to die, some say, their cities will die along with them. “New York city is tied to their transit system,” says Philip Plotch, a professor of political science at Saint Peter’s University and author of Last Subway: The Long Wait for the Next Train in New York City. “It’s like if you have a big hundred-story building and the elevators were having a problem.”

Plotch, who served as director of World Trade Center redevelopment and special projects at the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation, has watched his city recover from a devastating crisis before, and he’s optimistic it can do so again. “It wasn’t clear in the days after 9/11 if anybody wanted to work in a skyscraper ever again,” he says. “The people who had that sort of dark outlook were totally wrong.” But even if transit systems recover in the long-term, the millions of Americans currently relying on mass transit to get to work are desperate for those buses and trains to keep running.

“We depend on [transit] not just to go to our clients, but to do their grocery shopping, pick up their medicine…go out and pay their bills,” says Williams, the Seattle home care worker. “It’s a very dangerous slope if they take transit away. It’s part of what I would call another signature on the death certificates of thousands of Americans.”

via https://cutslicedanddiced.wordpress.com/2018/01/24/how-to-prevent-food-from-going-to-waste

#Time #top stories #IFTTT #news

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anaslaarfaoui · 5 years ago

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10 Bullet Journal Travel Page Ideas To Inspire Some Serious Wanderlust

Planning a Trip? Here are 10 Bullet Journal Page Ideas to assist you to propose and Organize the Journey

Two of my favorite things: Travel and Bullet Journals! I desire planning a visit are often even as fun because of the actual trip. Just creating your itinerary, doing all the research, and making lists and to-do’s leading up. Ugh!! Just writing about it gets me excited!

Perhaps you thought your bullet journal was only for simple, a day things like grocery shopping lists or remembring your homework. And although that’s an excellent use for it, the BuJo is multi-dimensional and great for any situations in life you’re planning.

TOOLS

Before we dive right in, I would like to say the tools I even have found and use for Bullet Journaling. If you’re just starting out on your BuJo journey, these are the tools I wish I had purchased at the start rather than overpriced books and markers that ‘professional bullet journal-ers’ recommended me.

I exploit this journal, which may be a dupe to the cult-favorite Leuchtturm1917. the sole difference is that the pages aren’t numbered. No biggie. this is often the black pen I exploit for writing in my dailies and such. I buy these colorful markers for decorating. Metal Stencils to assist me decorate and style my journal. they are available with a touch carry case and ruler.

That’s it. And to be completely transparent, I only use the markers and stencils a few times a month, once I found out new pages, or am bored and need to embellish. The bread and butter of a bullet journal is just a pen and a notebook you carry with you often Don’t get too crazy within the beginning as you work out what pages do and don’t work for you.

Similar Post: what's Bullet Journaling and the way Do I Start?

How Do I exploit A Bullet Journal For Traveling?

The answer: However you want! The long answer: to make packing lists, itineraries, keep track of reservations, dates, stay within your travel budget, or as memorabilia and paste pictures from your trip into the journal! the chances are endless. there are numerous moving parts of a visit you actually can get over-excited with it however you please.

Create a Travel Bucket List

Is your goal to travel? Then you’ll love these great BULLET JOURNAL TRAVEL page ideas and spreads. Let me take you on a journey from a bucket list wishlist, to an itinerary tracker and map page in your traveler's notebook, to saving up the budget, to enjoying your travels, to capturing your memories during a scrapbook, with diary entries and doodles. Get bujo inspiration from these unique and artistic travel journal ideas to plan your next getaway #bulletjournal #bujo

Even if you don’t have a visit arising having a travel bucket list is such an excellent idea to urge inspired. Just seeing the word ‘Paris’ and a touch doodle of the Eiffel Tower makes me feel better. I'm going off into my very own head and visualize myself in these beautiful cities, what I’ll do when I’m there, who I’ll meet, the entire shebang!

Anything that helps you are feeling excited may be a great point This travel bucket list brings out the small kid in me.

Make It Your Own With Cute Pictures

Create a Packing List

How is it that albeit I’m a chronic over-packer, I always forget something. With a packing list prepared a few weeks before the trip (before the strain of traveling starts to line-in), you'll assure yourself you won't forget

Travel Savings Tracker

A nice vacation are often such an excellent motivator. Keep yourself accountable with this travel savings tracker and before you recognize it, you’ll get on the beach sipping pina-Coladas.

A Color World Map

This is such a nifty idea! Create a world map and color the countries you’ve been to. one of my life goals is to travel to each country 9within reason) within the world, so having my map full may be a big goal on my behalf of me

Create an idea

Plan your whole trip on a BuJo spread. Create your packing list, write down belongings you want to try to to and see, and even paste a touch map so you don’t get lost!

Plan That Dream Summer Roadtrip

You absolutely need an idea for a road trip. It isn’t one among those belongings you should just wing. Look to Kara for inspiration in creating a gorgeous and functional spread for that dream road trip through the Carolinas or Rockies.

Create Memorabilia

Quite possibly my favorite thanks to using a Bullet Journal is to fill it with memories and pictures! You BuJo is such a private a part of your story, sort of a diary during away. Fill it with happy, beautiful memories of your travels to seem back on and remind yourself of the good trip you’re taking.

What does one consider these spreads?! Comment below how you’re using your Bullet Journal to plan your travels!

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