#never take your meds joey

[cid-plcd]

chaotic vibe, thanks joey

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

“Eneste” (Angst)

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

A/N: I’ve been wanting to make another songfic for a while now, and I like this song, so I thought; why not? I think it is kinda fun to do it with Danish songs, ngl, hehe. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy❤️

Song: “Eneste” by Joey Moe.

Danish song with English translation provided.

Warnings: Break up, stick and poke tattoos.

Rødt lys, alt stoppede bare, da du tog dine ting og du tog væk her fra / Åbenlyst, så sårbar, burde starte forfra men det går bare ikke.

(Red light, all just stopped, when you took your things and you went away from here / Obvious, so vulnerable, should start over but it just doesn’t work).

There was no other way about it. No roundabout explanation Raph could give anyone, in some last effort attempt to lessen what was so obvious. Raph had fucked up. He had done the exact thing he promised you he wouldn’t do and broke your heart. He should probably at least try to move on, but he just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel right. Just the thought of moving on felt useless to Raph. It just wouldn’t work. Nothing seemed to work without you in his life.

It was so dumb. Raph could easily had done better, yet he hadn’t. He had done the wrong things, said the wrong things, and now you were gone. It happened so quickly. You were fighting. You were pointing out what Raph had done - the thing he himself knew he had done but just wouldn’t admit. Instead he lied, and when you called him out, he had yelled at you, calling you all sorts of horrible things. He had been caught, and now he was somehow trying to shift the blame onto you. Raph had never done such a thing before, and so you were taken aback when he let all his anger out, aiming it straight at you with punches in the form of words like bullets.

When silence finally fell, Raph finally realized what he had done. But it was too late. It was done. You had already started packing your things, refusing to look him in the eyes or speak to him. Even as Raph clung to you, begging you not to leave, telling you how sorry he was and how wrong it was of him, with tears threatening to fall from his eyes, you ignored him. And as you left Raph’s room in a hurry, before quickly making your way out the lair, not speaking a word to anyone you passed, fearing you would break down, Raph’s world stopped. He just stood there, in his room, staring after you.

Søvnløs, natten er der foroven, ordene ligger på tungen, men jeg kan kun forstumme / Hul i byen, men jeg kan knap nok gå med et hjerte, der er så tungt.

(Sleepless, the night above, the words are laying on the tongue, but I can only remain silent / Hole in the city, but I can hardly walk with heart, that is so heavy).

That had been several days ago now. And though Raph regretted not following you, and not trying a little harder to make you stay, Raph did not try to go for you now. Instead he would stay in his bed at night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, thinking of all the things he wanted to tell you. How he would hold you close, and cry to you, and tell you how sorry he was. Finally take responsibility for what he did and what he said, and prove to you that he had learned. That he was willing to become better for you. Yet Raph found himself unmoving in his room at night.

On the nights where Leo managed to pull Raph out of his room and force him out on patrol, Raph did everything in his power to avoid you home. But should Raph somehow find himself forced to be somewhere close to where you lived, he would stare in the direction he knew he would be able to find you. And should Raph somehow be able to see your window, he would hope and pray in silence that you would look out and see him. Hoping that if you saw him, you would call for him, telling him that you forgave him. But you never did. And Raph remained unmoving, staring at your window, unable to walk until all three of his brothers pulled him away, forcing him to turn his back on your window.

Der ku’ være 1 mili, 2 mili, 3 mili, 4 milliarder derude / men jeg bli’r derhjemme til duften af dig på min pude.

(There could be 1 bil, 2 bil, 3 bil, 4 billion out there / but I’m staying at home to the smell of you on my pillow).

At some point Raph’s brothers started asking him if it wasn’t about time that he went out with them. The NYPD was throwing something together at the headquarters, and maybe he could meet someone new there. Maybe Vern could throw a party together for them, and invite some people that Raph would be interested in. Maybe even April and Casey knew someone. As his brothers told him; “there’s plenty of fish out there. There’s probably someone else waiting out there for you”.

But Raph told them off, grunting dismissively at them and telling them to bucker off. Once he even threw a weight after Mikey, who had kept asking for a little too long, not taking the hint. Raph did not want to meet someone else. He didn’t want to find someone other than you. He did go with them to any of the parties or get-togethers they tried to drag him to. Instead he stayed in his room, with his head against the pillow that still smelled a little bit like you.

Så ta' mig med dig, la' mig vis dig, gi' mig lidt af det der gir' mig, sommerfugl og mave kriller, lær' mig lidt om alle de midler / der får hjertet til at banke, som er dagen lang / Jeg ved godt jeg åbnede Pandoras boks og nu er det slut med os / Men du er den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste for mig.

(So take me with you, let me show you, give me a little of what gives me, butterflies, belly krill, teach me a little about all those remedies / that makes the heart beat, which is all day long / I know I opened Pandora's box and now it’s the end of us / But you are the only, only, only, only one for me).

Raph found himself thinking about you day in and day out, remembering all the good days the two of you had together. How you would give him that beautiful smile, that would cause an explosion of butterflies to erupt within, making him dizzy with happiness. Just having you around would send Raph to cloud nine, his heart beating so hard in his chest, that he was sure everyone around him could hear it. He loved you, and loved all the things your presence did to him.

But all that was gone now. Raph still loved you deeply. He still yearned for you, missing you everyday and every night. He cursed himself every night for what he had done. He caused this. He was the reason why you decided to end things between you. Raph only had himself to blame for causing the only person he had ever loved to leave him. The only person he would ever love. And now you were gone.

Den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste og jeg tænker på om du mon kommer hjem / og hvis nej, om du så har glemt at / At jeg' den eneste, eneste, eneste, stadigvæk, yeah! / Dit navn der står med blæk for evigt yeah! / Dit navn det står på blæk og det er for evigt, yeah!

(The only, only, only, only one and I’m wondering if you might ever come home / and if not, if you then have forgotten that / That I (am) the only, only only, only one still, yeah! Your name that stands with ink forever yeah! / Your name that stands on ink and it’s forever, yeah!)

For a long time, Raph would pass the entrance to the lair, watching it, hoping that you at any moment would walk in, acting as if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had happened and you and Raph were still happy together. But you never entered the lair like Raph had hoped for. And as time passed on, Raph grew fearful. Had you forgotten him? Had you moved on? Had you forgotten all of your good memories together? Had you found someone else already? Had you decided that Raph was no longer the one for you, while he still found himself stuck on you, firmly believing that you were the one.

Raph found himself looking from the entrance to the ink on his wrist. A small heat at the top left of Raph’s left arm. The same kind of heart one would be able to find on your right wrist. Raph could clearly remember the day you sat with him in his room, having brought a needle for a stick and poke, along with a small bottle of black tattoo ink. That night the two of you had been sitting in Raph’s bed for hours, tattooing each other with the small needle. It was dumb and very stupid. Raph knew that his brothers and Splinter would freak out if they knew. One thing was to let Donnie tattoo him, but Donnie knew what he was doing. Heck, Raph could only imagine how your family would react to you coming home with a tattoo, made by your mysterious boyfriend. But you didn’t care. You were in love, giggling and giving each other many sweet kisses as you tattooed each other.

But now, there were no more giggles and no more kisses. Only silence and longing, along with the aching feeling in Raph’s heart whenever he looked at his wrist, at a permanent memory, missing you by his side.

Stadig for let, men du skredet for længst, og mørke tider har i sinde at forlænge / Der er godt plads i vores dobbeltseng, men jeg fylder den ikk' ud alene.

(Still too easy, but you left long ago, and dark times are intending to prolong / There is plenty of room in our double bed, but I (am) not filling it out alone).

It had now been months since you and Raph broke up. Raph still hasn't mustered up the courage to talk to you, and tell you just how much he missed you. How much he still loved you. How much he wanted you back. But it was simply easier not to do it. Raph really wanted to. He really wanted to jump onto your fire escape, knocking on your window onto you would open it for him, pull you into a long lasting hug, crying all his pains and sorrows to you, and apologizing for everything he had done wrong. But Raph was terrified of what you might say. What hard words you might throw his way. The confirmation that you did in fact, not want to get back to him. It was just so much easier not to talk to you, but instead long and dream for you in the darkness of his room.

Even after several months without you, Raph still hadn’t started taking up the full bed when he was sleeping. He still slept with space next to him, where you used to be. It just felt wrong to sleep there, because what if you one day came back to him…

Der ku være 1 mili, 2 mili, 3 mili, 4 milliarder derude / men jeg bli’r derhjemme til duften af dig på min pude / Så ta' mig med dig, la' mig vis dig, gi' mig lidt af det der gir' mig, sommerfugl og mave kriller, lær' mig lidt om alle de midler / der får hjertet til at banke, som dagen lang / Jeg ved godt jeg åbnede pandoras boks og nu er det slut med os.

(There could be 1 bil, 2 bil, 3 bil, 4 billion out there / but I’m staying at home to the smell of you on my pillow / So take me with you, let me show you, give me a little of what gives me, butterflies, belly krill, teach me a little about all those remedies / that makes the heart beat, which is all day long / I know I opened Pandora's box and now it’s the end of us).

At some point Raph’s brothers got tired of his moodiness and anger, and decided it was time to do something about it. At first they tried to talk to you, but that backfired badly, with you yelling and screaming about how Raph was too afraid to talk to you himself. How he still wouldn’t own up to his mistakes, and then expect that his brothers could fix it for him. But even after they explained to you that Raph did in fact not send them, and that they had come to you on their own, you still weren’t budging. Raph had hurt you, and no matter how long he stayed with his face in the pillows, thinking about you, you weren’t coming back. That led the brothers to their last efforts in an attempt to help Raph move on - bringing dates for him to the lair.

Men du er den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste for mig / Den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste og jeg tænker på om du mon kommer hjem / og hvis nej om du så har glemt at / At jeg' den eneste, eneste, eneste, stadigvæk, yeah! Dit navn der står med blæk for evigt yeah!

(But you are the only, only, only, only one for me / The only, only, only, only one and I’m wondering if you might ever come home / and if not, if you then have forgotten that / That I (am) the only, only only, only one still, yeah! / Your name that stands with ink forever yeah!)

They told Raph when they brought someone over. No, instead they would let Raph wander out of his room, to find a nervous stranger, sitting in the lair trying to make small talk with either Leo, Donnie or Mikey, trying not to seem freaked out by the large mutant turtles they had met just moments ago. But to everyone's surprise, expert Raph, he had no interest in any of them, straight up telling them to get out of the lair before he personally would throw them out. There was no way he would let someone else take your place, even if you seemed to have forgotten that you were the one for him. But though Raph feared that you had forgotten, he would certainly never forget that you were the only for him. But would he ever try to do anything about it, or let the heart on his wrist be a permanent reminder, of how he broke your heart and let the love of his life go?

Dit navn det står på blæk og det er for evigt, yeah! / Stadig for let / Stadig for let.

(Your name that stands on ink and it’s forever, yeah! / Still too easy / Still too easy).

Raph’s brothers started to get impatient with him. A year had passed, and Raph was still as heavy and sad as the day you left him. There had been no progress. Raph had not done anything to move on, nor had he done anything to try and talk to you. Instead he just sat there and stared at the tattoo on his wrist, remembering how concentrated you were when you made it.

“You can’t just sit there and done nothing!”, Leo finally snapped at Raph one day, after Raph once again had thrown a potential date out the door. “If you really loved them, then how can you just sit here and do nothing?! How can you just take the easy route and do absolutely nothing?!”

That conversation didn’t go too well, with Raph and Leo yelling back and forth, with Mikey and Donnie holding them back, keeping them from fighting one another. But when all was said and done, and Raph once again found himself in his room, his head against his pillow, staring at his wrist, he knew Leo was right. And you were right as well. Raph had just taken the easy way, hiding from confrontation and the thought of losing all chances with you. But that was simply the easy option… but love wasn’t love always surpassed to be easy? Up until the day you broke up, Raph had felt like it was easy to love you. It had been easy being around you. As easy as lobe should be… right?

That night Raph finally did something he should have done a year ago, and made his way towards you home, with the intention of finally talking to you. Maybe you would take him back, or maybe you wouldn’t. What mattered was that Raph finally quite taking the easy way through this, and finally told you how he still loved you, and how you would forever be the only one for him. What you did with that information was all up to you. Raph would leave that to your decision.

[moremaybank]

Hello! I absolutely loved the klaus x reader fluff🦋🦋

If possible, can you make an alphabet smut for the reader and klaus as well? I would soo love to read that, sweets <3

nsfw alphabet with klaus mikaelson...

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, breeding kink, cum play, mentions of oral sex (f. & m. receiving), drunk sex, mutual masturbation, overstimulation kink, semi-public sex, use of a vibrator, language

a/n: for my dear joey 🫶🏻

klaus masterlist

(a)ftercare - what they're like after sex

klaus is very dominant and can be rough during sex - that's a given. but when it comes to aftercare, he is the softest man on the planet. he'll trail his fingers up your spine and run them through your hair while he holds you. sometimes, he'll run the two of you a hot bath paired with a glass of high-end wine or champagne. honestly, he's not really picky. the only thing that matters to him is that you're close to him, being in his arms and hearing the beat of your heart — dead or undead.

(b)ody part - their favourite body part of their's and also their partner's

klaus's favourite body part of his are his hands. he mostly loves them because you always tell him how much you love them, especially when they're wrapped around your throat (*wink wink*). but he also adores touching you. smoothing over the skin of your legs. bringing you to the brink of release with them alone. let's not forget about him using them to bend you in any way he can when he's fucking you.

his favourite body part of yours is your legs. he loves how smooth and glowy they are, especially when you show them off. if you wear leggings or yoga pants, he's rubbing all over them and squeezing at the flesh of your thighs and calves. when he's about to go down on you, he'll kiss down the lengths of your legs on his way to more intimate places. and if you're wearing a dress...he's a goner. bonus points if you're all dolled up for one of his extravagant parties, and he can't be all over you because he has business to take care of. he's going out of his mind because you're so close but he can't do anything about it.

(c)um - anything to do with cum, basically

i think this one's pretty obvious, but the man has a breeding kink. big time. he spends hours upon hours any chance he gets to just fill you to the brim. you're on your back, your legs wrapped around his med-section as he drives into you slow and deep. he's painting purplish and reddish hues on your neck with his lips and teeth as both of your releases coat his cock and leak from your pussy. a puddle is forming beneath your ass because of how much he's unloaded into your walls, and watching your cunt overflow with his seed makes him feral. he's so far gone that he's mumbling to the both of you about how you'll be pregnant by the day's end if you aren't already. you're squeezing him like a vice at his filthy words, which drives him over the edge again. afterward, he spreads you apart so he can look at just how much of him you're holding inside of you, and the dirtier parts of him want to take a picture so he can look at it any time he wants.

(d)irty secret - pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

as much as he adores filling you up, it does make him giddy when he cums on you. your tits, your stomach, your ass, your face. bonus points if he's already cum inside you. he's painted you everywhere, and he loves it.

(e)xperience - how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

let's be real. klaus has been alive for over a thousand years. he has experience. he knows what he's doing, and he knows how to do it well. you're never left unsatisfied, and you're a thousand percent sure that no one, man or woman, has made you cum as hard as he does every time you guys do anything.

(f)avourite position - this goes without saying

modified missionary. half of him getting off is getting to see your reactions while he's fucking you. also, in this position, he can do whatever he wants to add to your sensations with ease. if he wishes, he can add in a little choking, kiss you, feed from your neck, and play with your clit. he can bend your legs in whichever way he wants, spread you wide open...the possibilities are endless, really.

(g)oofy - are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.

in sober moments, he tends to be more serious and focused on what he's doing. but in drunken moments, the two of you are giggling away at your drunkenness as you both stumble over things, knock vases over, bump into tables and couches...everything is funny to you both at that point.

(h)air - how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.

klaus is a bougie bitch. that's just a fact, and i refuse to hear any different. he's very well-groomed and trimmed. he takes care of himself, not just for him but for you, too (though you aren't too picky when it comes to him).

(i)ntimacy - how are they during the moment, romantic aspect

this can vary. for special occasions like a date night, an anniversary, etc., he'll include lots of romance. when it comes to the one he loves, he'll go to the furthest lengths to make things special for you. but in quick moments of lust, and it's just a quickie, he'll just get right down to business.

(j)ack off - masturbation headcanon

he won’t jerk off because he doesn’t feel the need to. the only time he will is when you guys are participating in mutual masturbation, pushing and tempting yourselves until you can’t take it anymore and you’re dying for each other’s touch.

(k)ink - one or more of their kinks

breeding kink, as i stated before. personally, i think this is self-explanatory because he has a whole child. his favourite thing is to just fill you up over and over for hours on end until his cum is leaking out of you, and even then, it's still not enough. the man will literally keep cumming inside you until it physically hurts to keep going.

also, he has a major overstimulation kink. you look so gorgeous when you fall apart for him. your voice, your swollen lips, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open as you try to catch your breath...it's addicting to watch. he just can't resist watching you cum again and again until you're begging him for a break. and even then, he just switches to eating you in an attempt to "soothe you." the man is insatiable. and justifiably so. i mean, look at you.

(l)ocation - favourite places to do the deed

anywhere you'll let him, to be honest. he's not picky at all. he definitely appreciates the traditional aspect of doing it on a bed, but he's also quite adventurous and likes to christen any place you wish. the restroom at rousseau's, the car, etc. also is in favour of bending you over things like the dining room table and the desk in his study. any time, anywhere. if you want him, he's yours.

(m)otivation - what turns them on, what gets them going

he's so in love with you and so completely obsessed with you that all it takes is for you to exist. not even kidding. all you have to do is bat those lashes at him, and he's good to go. but it drives him nuts when you tease him all throughout the day. lingering touches on his thigh, hands roaming over his chest, telling him how handsome he looks, slow and sensual kisses. sometimes you stroll around the house in your silk robe or any article of clothing that shows off your legs. also is a big fan of lingerie, even though he destroys every item of it that you own with one big rip.

(n)o - something they won't do, turn offs

klaus is very dominant and rough in bed, but he'd never want to do anything that would actually hurt you. you're his home and his heart, and the last thing he would ever do is even consider harming you.

(o)ral - preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

he prefers giving over receiving. like i said, his favourite thing is to make you cum no matter what. not to mention the fact that he is absolutely pussy drunk when it comes to you. he swears on the lives of him and his siblings that he could spend hours upon hours just lapping at and devouring your pussy.

he's very skilled, maybe even a little too much for your liking because you're jealous of how many past lovers he's made cum with that talented tongue of his.

(p)ace - are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

depends. if it's just a quickie, it's definitely fast and rough as he tries to satiate your needs as quickly as possible. he's also more on the rough side if he's punishing you or if you're having angry sex. but if he's feeling more intimate and soft, he'll roll his hips slow and deep, really taking the time to make sure you feel everything he feels for you.

(q)uickie - their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

klaus is definitely not opposed to quickies at all. like i said, any time you want him, he's ready for you. you partake in them very often as well. you two can't keep your hands off each other. but he does prefer to take his time with you and spend hours making you whimper and call out his name as he makes you cum with his hands, his tongue, and his cock. proper sex is his first choice.

(r)isk - are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.

risky for sure. he loves when you two are in a public place (but hidden enough), and he has to keep a hand over your mouth in order to muffle your moans and cries. the whole time he's just taunting you like, "careful, sweetheart. we can't let everyone hear how good i'm fucking you, now, can we? they'll threaten to kick us out." or if you're out for dinner, he'll play with you under the table and you have to try your hardest not to make a peep.

on the other hand, though, he's well aware of the fact that his siblings are constantly flirting with you, so he's not afraid to fuck you and make you scream from your bedroom with everyone in the house (unless hope's there because neither of you wants to traumatize her lmao). then afterward, he'll go downstairs for a drink, hair all messy and dried blood from the scratches you scraped into his back with your nails, smirking as his siblings complain about what just happened in your shared bedroom.

(s)tamina - how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last

original hybrid stamina is no joke. and definitely not for the faint of heart. he could go all night if you were game. i can't even put an exact number on it because, as we've established, he is far more than insatiable when it comes to you.

(t)oy - do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or on themselves?

he doesn't own any, but you do. you keep a vibrator for when he's away. however, klaus is mature enough to know that it's his friend and not his enemy. he'll fuck you fast and rough while keeping the vibrator pressed to your clit for maximum stimulation and pleasure.

(u)nfair - how much do they like to tease

he's the biggest tease, and he has absolutely no shame about it at all. he'll drop his voice a few octaves and whisper naughty things into your ear about what he wants to do to you at that moment, especially if it isn't the time or place. wandering hands rubbing against your waist or hips, lingering toward your ass or trailing up your thigh. or if you're alone and he's about to eat you out, he'll leave wet kisses close to your core but not quite there. he's also got this very specific look that he does when he's horny, and every time you see it, your panties magically disappear. imagine that.

(v)olume - how loud they are, what sounds they make

he's vocal during sex but not in an obnoxiously loud way. he's grunting and groaning in your ear, talking to you with filthy words as he fucks you, mumbling things to himself as he chases his own high. he knows it drives you crazy when he does so, and he makes the effort to let you know just how much he's enjoying you.

(w)ild card - random headcanon

not afraid of a little anal play. maybe a thumb in your butt as he fucks you in from behind. but this only takes place if you're down with it.

(x)-ray - let's see what's going on in those pants

long and thick in the best way possible. he stretches you out so impeccably when he's inside you, and you love feeling every ridge of his cock when he's fucking you. he reaches and massages every inch of your walls when he does so, and it makes your legs tremble.

(y)earning - how high is their sex drive

very high. any time he's stressed, angry or upset, he'll fuck you for relief. and if he's happy/in a good mood, he'll fuck you just to have a good time with you. it also helps that he's obsessed with you beyond compare. he just has to look at you and inside he's like, "yeah, i'm going to give her the night of her life."

(z)zz - how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

he doesn't fall asleep too quickly afterwards because he wants to take the time for aftercare. even if you two just lay there, legs intertwined, while he rubs your back or plays with your fingers. he ensures that you both really get to feel the love and intimacy shared between the two of you.

~

klaus tag list (join here!): @darkmoonbloodshake @princess-charming-01 @maybankslover @kittyqrt @techlipse @the-kaya-aa @catmikaelson20 @hopesdadswife @amournoir @iluvniklaus @diyabhanushali1 @your_best_hoe @ijustlovetoread @lyn07 @elenavampire21 @theesexystallion @dudenhaaa27 @alexxavicry @kenzi-woycehoski @elijahssuit @shawnspoems @skydisneylover @adoreyouusugar @luzberg @thelastgreatamericandynasty1989

[ocs-res]

Some of my OCs’ Love Languages (Pt. 1)

Reys

waits at the bus stop with you until your bus arrives

mostly just to make sure you get on safely

“oh, your bus is here. text me when you get home, okay?”

goes with you to your doctor’s appointment so you don’t feel alone

“I’m right outside if you need me”

sits across the table from you while studying together in a quiet library

so they’re the first thing you see when you look up

“you’re cute when you’re focused”

Mira

leaves little sticky notes with reminders and supportive messages around the house

“keep going!! you’re doing great :)”

“I believe in you! you’re amazing!!”

saves your sticky note responses and stores them in a small container

makes a shared calendar with important appointments and due dates with you

color coordinates based on importance and class/category

sends you reminders when they’re coming up

“oh, you have a dentist appointment on tuesday, remember to go!”

Joey

randomly video calls you throughout the day

“look at this weird cloud, it looks just like you”

calls sometimes just to hear your voice

“I miss the sound of your voice”

most times you’re both quietly doing your own thing on the call

enjoys the silence of knowing the other person is there

“omg you’ll never believe what I just found”

“hey how do you solve number 5 on this assignment?”

Hyun

shares books he thinks you’d like with you

writes little notes and annotations in sections that remind him of you

“thought you’d like this passage &lt;;3”

“we should do this someday”

gives you one of his favorites in exchange for yours

reading dates

the two of you snuggling up and reading your own books

and exchanging once you’re both done reading

Ant

invites you to his games and practices

wants to show off his cool, serious side

also wants to see you cheer him on

“this is for you” //misses//

tries to teach you how to play

but man his heart is racing so fast rn

“it’s so hot today, my hands are sweating”

really an excuse for him to hold you in his arms

Xavier

plays with your hair without realizing

runs his hands through your hair absentmindedly

“hm? did you say something?”

dries your hair for you after a shower

“don’t lay down yet, your hair is still wet”

braids your hair when he’s stressed

carries hair ties with him in case you need to tie your hair

“do you like it? I just learned this style the other day”

Hunter

plugs your phone in when you scroll a little too long and fall asleep

takes your glasses off and sets them off to the side so you don’t break them when you roll over

then he covers you with a blanket on you and tucks you in

kisses your forehead once he’s done

“sweet dreams, hope you dream of me”

stares at you a little too long when you fall asleep in the passenger’s seat

carries you gently out of the car once he comes back to his senses

“//sighs// you’re lucky you’re cute”

Luan

makes calls and appointments for you when you’re too overwhelmed to do so

“it’s okay, let me take care of this for you”

helps you unload the dishwasher cuz the shelves are just a little too high up

sits in the kitchen just to watch you cook and keep you company

and vice versa when he cooks

picks up meds and groceries for you on days you can’t even get out of bed

makes sure you’re taking care of yourself

“alright, come on, you have to at least eat something and take your meds”

[mightyflamethrower]

Actor Matthew Marsden asks Twitter for Biden's greatest accomplishments, hilarity ensues

Joe Biden lies. (Excuse us ... 'embellishes.') A lot. He lies so often, it's not even news anymore when he does it. Not that the mainstream media would make it news, they're too busy covering for or ignoring those lies. Whether it is about his academic history, his political history, his family, or even his own upbringing, the man lies like most people breathe. 

Recently, conservative actor Matthew Marsden -- who is as fed up with these lies as any normal person would and should be -- decided to have a little fun with Biden's tall tales and asked Twitter/X to list some of the 46th President's greatest achievements. The response from users was every bit as funny as you would expect.

We're pretty sure Biden is old enough that this at least could be true. 

They don't call Biden 'the Maestro of the Med' for nothing, folks. 

Is that the same Sir Edmund Hillary who Hillary Clinton claimed she was named after? (Even though she was born six years before anyone knew who Edmund Hillary was.)

Those paintings of Biden and his troops rowing across the frigid, icy river that dark Christmas night have become indelible icons of America's victory over the British. 

Without Biden's ingenious method, we would have no reference point when we say, 'The greatest thing since...'

We never did trust that Al Gore. Trying to rip off Biden's invention like that. Shame on you, Al.

Yeah, the history books will try to tell you that was Abraham Lincoln. Don't you believe them? They're fake news. That was all Joey, baby. 

Our favorite passage in Exodus is when Biden boldly strode into Pharoah's hall, whipped off his aviators, took a lick of his chocolate chocolate chip double cone, and demanded, 'Let my people go, Jack.'

Biden played ironman football in that game too, offense and defense for both teams. He truly deserved to win all three Heisman trophies that year. 

And that's why Biden later had to free the slaves: he was appalled at what his invention was being used for. 

And he didn't even hide in the basement that time. 

Advertisement

It may look like an 'S' to us, but on Biden's home planet, that symbol he wears on his chest means 'hope.'

That was a busy week for Biden, to be sure. He needed a day of rest at the end of it.

Biden was originally going to be the subject of Christopher Nolan's recent movie, but the casting director couldn't find an actor handsome enough to play him, so Nolan had to rewrite the script. 

If Lincoln had kept his appointment for a chess lesson with Biden instead of going to see a play, history would have changed forever. 

Corn Pop may have been a bad dude, but Corn Pops are delicious with some nice, cold milk. Which Biden also invented. 

Many people died that day, sadly, until Biden showed up and the Germans all just laid down their arms and surrendered. Nobody messes with a Biden.

Look, not every accomplishment has to alter the course of human events, OK? Sometimes, Biden just wants to make our lives more convenient. 

Shhh. He hasn't released this one to the public yet. Don't try to steal Biden's thunder. He'll let us know about his cancer cure when he determines we are ready to receive his merciful bounty.

Hey, we know some of these things may seem farfetched, but hand to God, everything you've seen above is true. We ain't kiddin', folks. Come on man, don't take it from us. Just ask the man himself. He'll affirm everything you've read here happened, his word as a Biden. 

***

Editor's Note: Do you enjoy Twitchy's conservative reporting taking on the radical left and woke media? Support our work so that we can continue to bring you the truth. Join Twitchy VIP and use the promo code SAVEAMERICA to get 40% off your VIP membership!

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Campbell taking care of a feverish Joe?

Here we go! At this point, they're living together.

Warning: sick fic

On with the fic!

--

"Joe~!" Campbell sing-sung as he entered his and Joe's flat, tossing his jacket onto the couch and kicked off his shoes by the door. "You're not gonna believe what they let me play on the radio today!"

He stopped when he realized he was alone, the television was off, and the kitchen had no one in it. He glanced at the clock, Joe was home by now from work, and his car was out front.

"Joe?" He called out, looking around. "Joey Joe-Joe?"

He found their bedroom door closed and frowned, approaching. He opened it carefully, peeking into the darkened room, where the curtains were drawn and there was a lump on the bed, giving a small cough. "Oh man, Joe, you okay?" He asked, approaching the bed and sitting down on it.

The blanket covering Joe shifted and he peeked out at his boyfriend, then covered his head again. "'m sick."

"You seemed fine this morning." Campbell said, placing his hand on Joe's hip, giving it a small squeeze.

"Fakin' it, so you wouldn't worry."

"I would've found out, you know that."

"Mmmm, didn' want you to miss a day of work." Joe peeked out at him again and Campbell moved closer, placing a hand to his forehead.

He winced, pulling his hand away. "You're really hot and sweaty."

"No shit." Joe moaned and rolled over, burying his face into the pillow. "I've got that nasty bug goin' around."

Campbell pouted a bit. "Dang, I was hopin' you'd avoid it. Hmmm..." He tapped his fingers against his chin before grinning, jumping off the bed.

"I'm gonna help you get better!"

Joe turned his head, looking at him funny. "Huh?"

"Have you done anything since I left this morning?"

"Just... crawled back into bed and tried to sleep this off, but I'm so tired, things hurt."

"Well, first things first! A hot bath'll help those muscles and aches and pains! Up and at 'em!" He pulled the blanket back and Joe groaned, curling up. "No, bath, then you can come back to bed!"

"Nooo..." Joe said as he sat up anyway.

"I'll get'cha something to eat and some meds, I'm sure we've got stuff around here! If not, a pop to the shop down the street, yeah?"

Joe slowly blinked at him, nodding, before shuffling to the bathroom.

Campbell waited until he heard the water running before slipping away to look around the apartment. Well, they didn't have much in the way of cold medicine, so he really did have to go to the shop down the street and grab some, along with a bottle of ginger ale.

He ran back to the apartment and to the kitchen, where he started up some soup from a can they had. That'll do just right, yeah? Soup for a cold! He heard Joe moving into the kitchen, freshly bathed, wrapped up in the blanket from the bed.

He looked at the stove, then at Campbell. "You're cookin'?" He asked before yawning.

"Yep! I do know a thing or two in there, Joe." He laughed, then gestured to the meds and the drink, telling him to take as instructed and to go sit down.

Once the soup was finished, Campbell prepared a tray of it and a mug of tea, bringing it over. Joe smiled sleepily and took it, beginning to eat as Campbell sat down with his own bowl, right next to his boyfriend.

"It's sweet you're taking care of me, Camp, but aren't you worried you might catch this bug too?" Joe asked as he sipped the tea.

"Nah! You know what they say, a loony never catches a cold!" Campbell laughed.

Joe raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was a fool never catches a cold."

"Either way, I'll be fine! Now, eat your soup and relax, Doctor Bain will take good care of you."

[meettheprivate]

Pet Headcanons [TF2 X SO]

Because I am that person.

Absolutely on board with a pet no questions asked: Scout, Soldier, Pyro, Engineer

Hesitant at first but will comply eventually: Demoman, Heavy, Sniper, Medic

Non: Spy

--

Scout: Has always wanted a pet, but with so many brothers his ma saw no reason to have yet another animal in the house. If you ask for a dog he will just be ecstatic! He’s always wanted a Boston bullterrier, or maybe a Rottweiler. Something cute but tough just like him! He may complain if you ask for a cat though, and absolutely no birds - traumatic memories of a certain dove come to mind.

Soldier: Let’s be honest, Soldier has a soft spot for cuddly things - he just doesn’t show it, like, ever. Sure he would much rather have a bald eagle as a pet, but that’s illegal and you (being the smarter of the two of you) have to deny him his right to possess an illegal pet. When you come to a compromise of a dog, he’ll say something to the tune of, “I want the fluffiest, softest, squishiest one they have.” Because he doesn’t want a dog that makes him think of the eagle he couldn’t have. He’d also accept a cat, as long as it’s the biggest asshole they have - which isn’t too hard of an ask.

Pyro: Admittedly, you’re reluctant to ask Pyro if they want a pet with you, as you’re kinda worried they might do something crazy while in Pyroland to your precious new addition to the family. So you recommend a sturdier pet, like a calico cat. You figure the cat can escape if necessary, and ya’know, they’ve got nine lives (right??). Surprisingly, you find out quickly that Pyro and your cat have formed such a tight bound that they can communicate to one another. Turns out Pyro can make cat friends easily!

Engineer: This sweet man is no stranger to owning pets. When he was growing up, his family had the sweetest pupper out there: a Golden Retriever named Austin. You decide to surprise him one day by bringing home a golden Labradoodle who you’ve humbly chosen to name Bee. He immediately falls in love with the sweet pup and goes to work to build the dog everything from a bed, toys, their own fancy collar, the works! He even made a metal dog tag shaped like a bee. You start to wonder if he loves the dog more than you - don’t worry, he loves you more than before for getting Bee, but he may love Bee more. Also, don’t be surprised if one day he comes home to surprise you and Bee with a little corgi puppy - so Bee can have a little sibling!

Demoman: There are a number of reasons why he is reluctant to getting a pet; they’re a lot of work, they can be messy, and they crave attention. He likes dogs, but doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of one, and cats? They remind him of his mum a bit too much. But when you suggest the wild card that is a parrot? SOLD. You both pick out a parrot that matches his team colour and happily take the sweet birb home with you. Demo adores his new friend, because now he feels like a true pirate king. Plus, the bird listens to his drunk ramblings, how could he not love his new friend?

Heavy: Unlike the others, he has never really had a connection to animals in any way. He used to eat bears to survive, he lived in a gulag, to say concept of a pet was abnormal was an understatement. When you ask, he at first shuts you down immediately, saying he’s too big, and he’d worry about hurting the poor creature. However, you show him the wonderful word of BIG puppers and he’s intrigued, but only slightly. Then you show him a Saint Bernard puppy, and then a full sized one. Heavy finally agrees when you tell him how it is near impossible for him to hurt the sweet big boys, just so long as he doesn’t try to ride one. When you bring your new pup home, Heavy immediately falls in love.

Sniper: It doesn’t take long to convince him. At first he says no because he doesn’t like normal pets like cats, dogs, birds, etc. But then you throw out the crazy idea of getting a pet wallaby (which is legal in some areas). The man was in TEARS. Now getting the wallaby was no easy feat - let’s just say it pays to know SAXTON HALE! - and when you finally got your joey you both were so pleased. The best part? It was cheap to feed your new pet as they primarily eat grass! A free lawnmower anyone? However, now Sniper’s asking if you’d be on board with getting a koala too. What have you started?

Medic: His doves are his babies. He thinks you should view them as your babies too and stop fantasizing about getting more pets. That is until you suggest the crazy idea of...Mice. Yes, mice plural. He thinks its a crazy idea, but then thinks about the irony of a doctor, a man of experimental science, and a whacko having pet mice and it just sounds so comical and crazy that he agrees to it. So now the med bay is filled with dove and mice excrement. Delightful. Medic also decided to name each of the mice after his teammates. For some reason he always liked to play with “Spy” by moving him around in his hands. Don’t tease mouse Spy.

Spy: Two words: Pet. Hair. Does he think animals are cute? Sure. He once thought about gifting Scout a bunny to prove a point. But he refused to own one himself, less he ruin his perfectly tailored suit by getting it coated with fur. He offers to buy you anything else to make up for this though, so at least he feels bad for rejecting your request? Also he doesn’t know why, but he feels like he’s begin rocked on a boat or something right now...Maybe it has something to do with Medic’s new pets somehow.

[mackeydoodledoo]

I Wasn’t (Thinking)

Pairing: Sarah Reese x Rory Laine (Fem!Doctor)

Summary: You’re assigned to mentor Sarah Reese in her studies to become a doctor. You have a ball however, little did you know, you began falling in love with your 4th year student. When a Pathology worker interrupts your love fest for Reese, you immediately regretting not telling her how you feel about her sooner.

Warning: Hospital shooting, Blood/Blood mention

A/N: Okay I recently started watching Chicago Med as I watch the other two Chicago shows, I’m all for Sarah Reese! btw, Rory Laine is my OC for Chicago Med!!

------------------------------------------- As you file down some paperwork, you feel a hand gently caressing your back. As you look up it was your med-student trainee; Sarah Reese. The two of you had built a strong bond compared to her first day as your trainee. 

"You paged me doctor?" You knock on the door frame 

"Yes, our handful of 4th year students have arrived," he explains, "I'm assigning them to a doctor such as yourself. I'm having you mentor Sarah Reese." 

"Sounds like a plan doc," you answer 

[...] 

"Hi I'm Dr. Sarah Reese," she introduces herself, shaking your hand, "4th year med student." 

"Dr. Rory Laine," you introduce back, "Emergency Medicine." 

[...] 

"Reese, help the patient with their airway, they aren't breathing properly!" 

"Dr. Reese code blue!" 

Reese presses the code blue button right behind the patients bed as Dr. Choi began CPR, the two of you helping around as much as you can. 

[...] 

"Sarah? Hey hey, it's okay," you comfort her, "just let it all out. It's okay." 

You noticed how Reese was hard on herself. You wanted to be there. You HAD to be there.

In all that time you had spent with her, you didn't notice you began to fall in love with her in the process. It wasn't until Maggie pointed it out. 

"Girl, you're totally head over heels for Reese!" Maggie teases 

"What?! No!" You try to stop her, "I don't even think she's into girls... or even likes me back..." 

"Dr.?" Reese calls from behind you 

You turn around to face her, "What’s up Reese?" 

"I just wanted to ask you, if you wanted to get coffee right now?" She asks 

"I'd love to," you smile, following her

As you two had went to the coffee area, you made her coffee, she smiles as she happily begins to make yours. You turn around to look at the city scape. You inhale the crisp, fresh air. You turn to Sarah to check on how she was doing. You notice a guy standing right next to her. 

"Hey Dr. Reese, I just got paged," you lie, happily taking your Reese-made coffee, "You page me if you need me at all." 

You didn't like the guy. You've met him before, a little bit of a creep. He tried to make a move on you but you straight up told him that you were a lesbian. You weren't sure how to tell Reese, you adore her, you enjoy her presence, you strongly believe she is the best Med student you have ever partnered with. You couldn't do that to her.

"Earth to Laine," Sarah smiles, waving her hand into your face, pulling you out of your thoughts 

"Yeah?" You ask, sighing 

"I got my match back!" She smiles 

"Well don't keep your mentor waiting what was the result?" 

She opens the envelope and unfolds the paper and shows it to you. You were heartbroken... But you couldn't show her that. You wanted her to be happy after all. 

"Oh my gosh that's amazing, where you wanted to be yeah?" You force yourself to say, but you sigh, "You know, I’m going to tell you this. Of all med students I have mentored in my time here, you were the best med student I could ever work with. Good luck. Doctor Reese." 

You walk away, forcing yourself to smile until your back was turned to her. You didn't want her to see you cry. But you watched her date Joey, one of her Pathology colleagues. It pained you to watch it. Each time you were saving loves, doing paperwork. You did it all to get your mind off of her. But to no avail.

One night post shift, you were seated at the bar at Molly's. Notebook under your right hand, a drink in the other. 

"My favorite kid doctor looks sappy," Stella Kidd comes over 

"The girl-my former med partner is dating someone else... I like like her but.... I'm too late..." you sigh, scribbling something into your notebook 

"What do you have there?" Stella asks, taking the notebook 

You try to get it out of her hands, but you failed that task. 

“Oh how I wish I could have made my feelings known sooner. Maybe we could have been something. My colleague. My partner. The greatest one I have had. ED for me wasn't the same. I'd always call for your assistance however I look up to see nothing but an empty space.”

You watch Stella read out your sappy poem as you continue drinking. 

"How have you not told her yet?" She asks 

"I wasn't sure if she was into girls too, let alone me." You sigh, "Most important of all, I don't want her to run away if I tell her." 

"From the stories you tell me from your time at Med, you never sounded enthusiastic about any of them until you got an ED partner. Tell you what," Stella starts, "March right up to her apartment and talk to her. The most thorough conversation you can do." 

You sigh, but straightening yourself out. You slide Stella a hefty tip as you grab your jacket and run out of the bar; rushing over to Reese's. She asked for your help on a test she had to take and you went over there once to help her study for it. 

Once you reach her place you compose yourself and you gently knock on the door. Joey opens the door... 

"Laine." He says, coldly 

"Hi Thomas. Is Sarah here?" You ask, trying to look past him 

"In the bathroom," he says 

You try to brush past him but he stops in your direction. 

"What are you doing?" He asks 

"I need to talk to her," you only say before he places a hand on you to place you back into the hall 

You slap his hand away as you realize what he's doing. 

"Fine," you sigh, "Can you tell her at least, that I need to talk to her?" 

He nods, not saying anything else. You turn your back to him and leave. As you go down a decent amount of stairs, you stop... You slumped against the wall and looked up to the upper stairs. 

"I'm such an idiot!" You growl at yourself before finally leaving

You return back to Molly's as it begins looking thinner the last time you were there. 

"I'm guessing it didn't go well?" Stella asks, passing you a drink, "On me." 

"I couldn't talk to her," you say, slumping down onto the bar, “Joey refused to let me talk to her.”

“You want me to talk to him? Stella asks, “I could drill into his head like Chief Boden does while on shift.”

“No, not worth it, and I think Sarah will be mad at me if I let you,” You sigh, taking another sip of your drink, “Thanks Stella.”

"Hey Rors," Sarah calls 

You look up from a supply box you were supposedly invested in. 

"Here's the results you requested," she says, handing you the paperwork 

"Thanks Reese," you sigh 

"So- how's your new partner?" She asks 

As you begin walking to Treatment 7, Sarah follows you. 

"What new partner?" You ask, "There's no 'new partner' for me. I told Charles that I'd only work with you, should you come back." 

She smiles. You wish that moment lasted an entire lifetime. However you look toward the entrance and see a man with a gun.... You look over and realized it was aimed at... Sarah Reese.... 

"GET DOWN!!" you scream to the ED department 

As everyone else does so, you look over at Sarah. Panicking when you hear a shot ring out. 

"SARAH!" you scream as you push her into the empty treatment room right next to the two of you 

You accidentally knock into the supply box in front of treatment 4 and knock it over, sending you with it. You roll over it and slide across the floor, leaving a blood trail on it. You gasp for air, trying to reach for the same supply box you knocked over, wanting to cover your bullet wound immediately. When Sarah gains her consciousness, she launches herself over to you, trying to stop the bleeding. 

"Choi! Rhodes!!" Sarah calls out for, "Rory." 

She looks up and notices the shooter being handcuffed by the CPD. 

"Re-Sarah," you sigh looking up at her, "I just want you to know, that... If I don't make it-" 

"No no no, stay with me Rory, eyes on me okay? Eyes. On. Me." Sarah tries to comfort you as Rhodes and Choi lift your body into the empty room 

Many of your coworkers nearly cried as you were taken to the OR for suture and possible surgery, as Choi looked for the bullet. Worried you might need surgery for possible bullet lodged in your body. 

"Are you hurt?!" Joey comes running over to Sarah 

"No but- but Rory took the bullet.." Sarah cried as Joey pulls her into a hug

After crippling hours of adjusting to a hospital shooting and with you in the ICU, Rhodes game of from the room as Sarah immediately stands up. 

"Rory?" She asks Rhodes 

"Laine's stable, but she's unconscious. Not sure when she'll wake up," he gets to the point, "She really misses you over at ED. You should see her when she tries to do paperwork. Do you know how many 'bathroom breaks' she goes on? Just to cry? You should be there for her. She wouldn't just take a bullet for their colleague. Unless there was something else going on with her." 

Rhodes makes his leave from your ICU room as Sarah follows. However, Joey stops her. 

"What is it Joey?" She asks 

"Can we talk?" He asks 

"Okay," she sighs as he follows him 

"You and Laine had something," he concludes 

"What?" She asks, "I have no clue what you're talking about." 

"Oh come on you don't think I see a lesbian that likes you when I see one?!" He asks 

"Rory's a-?" She asks 

He nods. 

"We that doesn't phase me that she's one of the best doctors to have mentored me, her sensuality has nothing to do with how she mentors me and how she sees me." Reese states 

"She’s only jealous and she only took that bullet to-" 

"SHE TOOK THAT BULLET FOR ME!" Reese screams, supposedly for her whole department to hear, "It should have been me instead of her, but now... But now she's my patient!" 

"Come on Reese she's been avoiding you," Joey states, "If she hadn't tried to come over the other night we-" 

"She what?!" She asks him 

"She came over to see you," he says, sighing," I told her to leave." 

"You did what?!" She asks 

"I told her to leave," he says, "She's getting in-between our relationship."

"I don't need you to decide that for me," Sarah screams, "Laine told me herself; I was one of her best med students she's mentored. And if you see her as a 'threat' to our relationship, you can leave. So leave." 

"Reese-" 

"LEAVE!" She raises her voice 

So he makes his leave, Sarah looks around and notices people staring, she rushes into your ICU room where you were resting; your shoulder healing from the gunshot wound. 

"Rory.... Oh my God I'm so sorry." Reese whispers, "You goddamn took that bullet for me and for what? It should have been me instead. Me in the bed where you are...." 

Sarah leans over you and puts her forehead against yours. 

"Sarah Reese..." you manage to say, "You are so blind..." 

She lifts her head to see you with your eyes open, slightly smiling. 

"I am so goddamn into you Sarah," you sigh, leaning into Sarah's touch, "I just couldn't find the courage to tell you." 

"Well, I wish you would have told me sooner," Sarah smiles, "Because I would have thought about it." 

You smile as you try to sit up but feel Sarah's hand gently press your uninjured shoulder. 

"Not yet," she whispers, "I'll go get Dr. Manning and-" 

Before she could stand up she feels your hand on hers. 

"Stay, please," you sigh 

She sighs as well. She sits back down and continues checking on you.

As you stand up with the assistance from Sarah, you see everyone applauding for you. 

"Who coordinated this?" You ask, looking at Sarah 

"I did, you saved another Doctor Rory," Maggie smiles, "Give yourself some credit." 

"That I did and that I shall," you smile

By the end of shift you were in the break room getting your post-work clothes on, however when it came to your jacket, you forgot you still had some stitches on and you drew your left arm back. 

"Here let me," Reese says, as she puts your right arm through the jacket sleeve 

"Thanks Sarah," you say, "Have you ever been to Molly's?" 

"Can't say I have," she smiles 

"Do you want to grab dinner?" You ask, "on me." 

"I'd like that Rory," Sarah smiles, "I'd like that a lot." 

"Meet me at the entrance when you're ready," you say

When Sarah meets up with you, the two of you take your cars to Molly's. 

"Hey it's doctor Savior," Hermann teases 

"Ha ha very funny Hermann," you sigh as you hear Sarah laugh 

"What'll it be?" He asks 

"You know my usual," you smile 

"Just a water for me," Sarah says 

"Oh by the way Rory, you finally got your girlfriend to finally come in here huh?" Hermann teases again 

"W-what?!" You ask him, blushing, "Well, I mean she knows I like her." 

"Yes," Sarah calls 

You turn to her, looking at her like she's crazy 

"I'll be your girlfriend Rory," she smiles 

"Really?" You ask 

She nods. You wanted to kiss her. But you remembered you wanted to be smart about her. You wanted to wait until she was ready for you. 

"Hey after this do you want to go to my place?" You ask, "I want to show you something." 

"Okay," she smiles 

"We aren't rushing anything I promise you that," you smile as you sip your whiskey 

As you lead her into your apartment, your hands over her eyes. 

"Keep those pretty eyes closed," you whisper into her ear 

You pull out your phone and press a button to play Photograph by Ed Sheeran. 

"Open," you say as she does 

You watch her look at the photographs in awe. They were strong up along, what you call them; fairy lights, spread out in an orderly fashion hut not in order. 

"Did you take all of these?" She asks 

"Yeah," you smile, "Some I took on our first couple of weeks as partners. And..." 

You trail off as you turn around to grab something. She turns around as you're on one knee, acoustic guitar in arms. 

"I look like I’m about to propose to you but no, let's not rush into things," you smile, beginning to strum along to the song. 

So you can keep me, inside the pocket of your ripped jeans. Holding me close until our eyes meet. You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home. Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul. And it's the only thing I know, know. I swear it will get easier. 

You continue looking up at her, strumming along to the song and looking into her eyes. You'd occasionally look away from her to look at your fret markers to know what note to play next. 

We keep this love in a photograph 

You reach up and pick a photograph off of your display and hand it to her. It was actually your favorite one; Herself and you were acting goofy in the bathroom. Her arm slung around your waist and yours around her shoulder. 

We made these memories for ourselves. Where our eyes are never closing, hearts were never broken, and time's forever standing still 

You sing the chorus again as you go back to playing for her. 

And if you hurt me, well, that's okay baby only words bleed. Inside these pages you just hold me and I won't ever let you go. When I'm away- 

You stand up, meeting Sarah's eyes, still singing to her 

Hearing you whisper through the phone; "Wait for me to come home" 

When you turn away from her to put your guitar down. But when you turn back to her; tears filled her eyes as she tries to viciously wipe them away. 

"Oh babe," you sigh, wiping her tears gently for her 

"You prepared all of this for me?" She asks 

"Actually, it was on the fly," you chuckle lightly 

"Oooh that’s even hotter. Adding that you're also a musician?" She laughs 

You laugh with her, "Before deciding to become an ED resident, I wanted to play music, sing it even! So I learned nearly all instruments. But I got bored.... But I still use my music skills for outside of Med, like this." 

"Can I stay here tonight?" She asks 

You nod, with a smile, "Of course you can." 

Noticing she didn't have any clothing, you rummage through yours and hand her one of your band hoodies and a pair of your shorts. 

"I don't know your shorts or pants size. Why would I need that for? But I hope it fits." You say, nervously 

You wait for her to come out of your bathroom. You were reading a book and you didn't hear your bathroom door open until you feel someone straddling you and taking your book away. 

"Impatient are you?" You joke 

She only looks down at your shoulder, the stitches. Oh.. Right.. I got shot at this morning... 

"Goodwin gave me a couple weeks off for it to heal," you say, "You can come over as much as you want. But if I'm not here, I'll leave a note at the door." 

She doesn't answer but hear the gunshot in her head. 

"Goddamnit Rory what were you thinking?!" She only asks 

You paused for a minute, trying to think on that moment earlier that day. 

"I wasn't" you answered, "when I know your life is in danger I don't think. I do it with no questions and no question of the consequences." 

"So... you did all of that for me?" She asks, gently stroking your injured shoulder. 

You nod, "I'd rather take a bullet for you than watch you become a memory." 

She doesn't answer but leans her head down for her lips to meet yours. You meet her halfway and kiss her. At first you believed that you were able to tell Sarah Reese how you felt. But with Joey Thomas that used to be in the way, you regretted not telling her sooner. But, taking the bullet to the shoulder instead was one way to tell her how you felt about her.

[purple-dahlias]

recovering- chapter 2

word count: 1742

trigger warnings: eating disorders, disordered eating, mental health

hello! this is the second chapter of recovering. it’s taken a while (oops) but i hope you enjoy <3

(also chapter 1 can be found here)

The days bleed by, agonisingly slow. Sarah goes about her last days in the emergency department almost completely on autopilot, in a daze. If she had to describe it, it was as though there was a wall separating her from everyone else, everything just felt far-off and somehow muffled. Perhaps it was an overreaction, but things just feel different somehow, ever since match day. Even the way the others behaved towards her.

How Natalie had reacted when Sarah had told her. Polite with her congratulations, but somehow different. Maybe even apologetic, as though she herself had been hoping to be told something different. And maybe Sarah was overanalysing, picking things apart too closely, reading into them when there was nothing to be found. But still. It only contributed towards making her doubts more pronounced, every part of her screaming out: you’ve made a mistake. And how was she supposed to tell anyone that? Especially when she had seemed so dead set on pathology. How was she supposed to turn it around? There was only herself to blame.

None of Sarah’s thoughts do any good for her, and she wishes, oh how she wishes she could turn back time. That feeling, that unhappiness, seeps into every part of her, taking a vice-like hold over her, rooting deep within. This is supposed to be her future, the rest of her life. And already, she’s completely messed things up. So she does what she always does. Retreats into herself.

But it’s on her last day, incidentally the night of her graduation, that things take a turn. Even then, she just can’t let it go. Can’t shake the feeling that she had walked into something so very completely wrong. And where does that land her? The nurses’ station in the PICU, waiting for little Michael’s test results to come back from the labs. Dr Manning had already told her to go, she had a graduation to attend after all, but Sarah couldn’t. She can’t leave now. Not until she knows Michael, lying a few feet away from her in a cot fighting for his life, is going to pull through.

It means she misses her graduation, but what does it matter? Her mother’s not coming. There’s no one else to see her. It’s of no real importance to her, she tells herself. It’s only a ceremony, a formality. She’ll still be a doctor without going. And in any case, it was worth it, because now, now she knew, Michael was going to be okay. The hug she gets, the smile from Doctor Manning, the way she gets be the bearer of good news: there was a happy ending to this story. It was worth it. All of it.

Apart, she remembers, from the fact that this wouldn’t be her life anymore. Today marked the day it was all over.

What should be a momentous occasion almost feels like a cruel joke, opening the box to find her lab coat emblazoned with pathology across the chest. She’d made it, she was Dr Reese now. But it was all just more than a little bittersweet. Even with Ethan, for all his kindness and congratulatory remarks, she can’t find it in her to be completely happy, as she knows she should.

The guilt wells up inside of her, until she can’t quite bare it any longer. Until there’s nothing else for her to do.

It’s a rash decision, one she’s sure will send the others in the ED reeling when they find out. But it’s her only option now, she doesn’t quite know what else to do. And Dr Shore telling her she won’t have a job anymore, well… it’s not like she hadn’t already thought of that.

For the first time in a very long while, Sarah Reese has no plans, no direction. Nothing. And yes, whilst it was a completely self-made problem, it was still more than a little daunting. To have your whole future, which had only moments ago been filled, now completely empty, stark and uninviting. A perfect blank canvas stretching out for miles ahead. No prospects.

One conversation and she’s gone. One conversation and it’s all over. No residency, no reason to stay: as far as she’s aware, there are no other residency posts open at Gaffney. But nowhere to go, either. It’s completely ludicrous, what she’s gone and done. Even if Dr Charles tells her she’s going to be “just fine,” it doesn’t feel that way. Not one bit. In many ways, it’s more like the world has ended for her. And for her, maybe it has.

–

There were not many things that remained constant in Sarah Reese’s life. But one that was, was the only thing that she had left now. And it’s all too easy to collapse into herself, let it fill up the gaping, empty spaces inside of her.

Her apartment seems darker, colder, lonelier these days. Which she knows seems irrational, because physically, nothing had changed inside of it. But it still all just all felt wrong. Like she had stepped into the twilight zone, was living someone else’s life.

She was alone now, completely alone. She knew it was only a matter of time before Joey stopped calling, stopped texting, stopped trying to go and get her to meet him. That was the way. Sarah always pushed everyone away, that was just how it went. Yes, she had been alone before. In grade school, at college, in med school. But this was different. Then, she had been alone but alongside other people, even if it was on the outskirts of their lives, it wasn’t total isolation. This, however: she was an island. A shell of her former self. A shadow, an outline of a person. And it’s an awful thought, but it crosses her mind, more than she’d care to admit. If she died, if anything were to happen to her, would anyone notice; who would care?

“You have nothing,” she says aloud to no one in particular, glancing at her reflection in the mirror, the morning of the fourth day after she had quit pathology. It was all true. What was she to do now? There had always been a goal to work towards. Finish high school. Get into med school. Graduate. Secure a residency post. And now? What was there for her?

Time slips by. Hours, days, and somehow, strangely, weeks, without Sarah quite noticing. What she does with that time, if asked, she would never be able to say. And not for lack of trying—it all just passes in a haze. Her lab coat remains crumpled at the bottom of her bag, stethoscope discarded in a drawer in the living room to gather dust. She won’t be needing either of them. Laundry begins to pile up, but Sarah doesn’t care. All she needs is the blue cotton sweatshirt she’s been wearing for days on end, the fabric softer against her skin, hanging far looser from her frame than it had ever done before. Groceries go neglected, not that she needs much. She finds she can hardly stomach anything much these days, apart from wafer crackers with peanut butter, the occasional bowl of cereal (without milk, of course).

The isolation doesn’t help; it makes everything a thousand times worse, she doesn’t know where to begin. Now there’s completely no one to hide from, no one to pretend for. Things are bad, and Sarah sinks into it. It’s like second skin. There again, there when she was absolutely alone.

When she finally manages to drag herself out from her apartment, summer is well and truly in full swing. She’s taken up long walks, through the parks and the streets of Chicago. Sometimes aimless, sometimes with purpose. Slowly she gets round to groceries, though never quite buying enough. But it’s not as though she uses it all up, anyway. Better to undercut, she thinks. Things seem to last longer these days, anyhow.

By the fourth week, Sarah knows this can’t go on. Her doing nothing. As much as she feels she has no energy, still no direction. Something has to change. In any case, with no job now, she needs to find a way to pay her rent at least.

She must be the most overly qualified barista in all of Chicago, with an MD attached to her name. Not that anyone knows that. Not that any of them would care in the slightest. She’s not so sure she deserves that title anyway, what with the way things turned out. But it feels at least a little better, having something to do, a little more routine, a little more structure to her days. It’s not ideal. No newly graduated doctor wants to be manning a till and serving coffee, but this was her life now. Small, quiet, trimmed down to almost zero people. The only person she still saw from her life Before was Joey. She’s pretty sure he’ll stop coming soon. And she’s right.

The upside, if there is an upside to any of this, is that Sarah Reese has always been good at working with what she had. She was used to getting things done alone, used to her own company, her own thoughts, however awful they might get. Just like in college. And medical school. She had been alone. Been there for herself. Pulled herself along. Her own champion and cheerleader in one. And maybe it hadn’t quite worked out perfectly; she hadn’t quite escaped without the scars, but still. She was here. And that had to count for something, didn’t it?

Sometimes, she thinks that when Will had asked her, she should have said something. What exactly, she doesn’t quite know. But maybe something. Because now, no one notices it happening this time. How groceries stretch further and further. How the gaps between her meals increase and the portion sizes decrease. How the dark circles under her eyes only grow. How she’s now a little more shaky, a little more unsteady. The dogs at the shelter she volunteers at on Saturdays don’t notice. The others on her shift at the coffee shop don’t notice. No one does. And it’s fine, it’s really all fine. Because there’s nothing wrong and Sarah’s never had a problem. Never.

And this is her life now, anyway. Just her, her apartment, the coffee shop a few blocks over and the dog shelter on Saturdays. That was her lot.  

[endlich-allein]

Once again, @iinchicore was very kindly to translate an article for me. This is the interview with Till and Joey in MetalHammer (January 2021). The boys tell about their journey in the Amazon and their future projects together.

A big thank you, lots of kisses and a big hug to @iinchicore ♡

Till Lindemann & Joey Kelly : Friendship Without Limits

MetalHammer: How did the preparations for this journey differ in comparison to your Yukon trip?

Joey Kelly: We took along different equipment. While riding on the Yukon we used sturdy Canadian kayaks, which we couldn't find in Colombia. So we took along our own foldable 15 kilogramme kayak. Due to the climate, our choice of clothing was also different. Besides, the Amazon is much more dangerous than Alaska. There are many dangerous animals, small and big ones. You can find snakes, crocodiles and piranhas, which is why you shouldn't bathe in the river. You have to move differently on the Amazon than on the Yukon, where you only have to keep your distance to bears and elks. Amazonia is a jungle, where only those animals survive who eat the others.

Your first river journey led you to the Yukon, now you travelled on the Amazon. Was there a reason for why you picked that river exactly?

Till Lindemann: We were considering to travel along the Chinese Yangtze or the Lena in Russia, Siberia. Siberia was my favourite, but Joey convinced me to go to the Amazon. We have both been there before and knew a little about how to prepare and what to expect. One thing we knew right away was that, in regard to the nature and people, South America was much more exciting – Siberia looks similar to Alaska. That wouldn't have been all that interesting for our second book. Now the contrast is much greater: Alaska is austere and glum, the Amazon is the exact opposite with an entirely different wildlife and vegetation. Don't forget the wonderful colours of South America!

Any fascinating experiences of nature?

TL: It is really rare to spot an animal in the jungle. You can hear them everywhere, but they hide or are disguised very well. With the help of the local guides we observed snakes, birds, monkeys and a tapir. We saw pink dolphins and watched them do their jumps on the river. Because of their skin-like colour the locals believe they're incarnations of their dead loved ones and worship them.

How did the locals at the river react towards you?

TL: Reluctant, at first. You go to them and, for example, ask whether you can stay the night. They don't really talk much in the beginning, but after a night with a lot of Cachaca they warm up to you. Usually they were interested in our fishing gear. Most of them had never seen something like it, as they were used to fishing with rolled up strings and nets. I was amazed that every village we visited, no matter how remote the location, owned fridges with cold beer, they even had solar energy. Huge satellite dishes to watch football. For three days we visited one particular village. There was a storm, so they allowed us to stay. There was an older guy who had fallen off his stilt house, drunk, and broke his foot. Two young men went to the neighbouring village, a day's journey away, to get the shaman. The man should have belonged to a hospital, but that was entirely out of the question for him. It either heals on its own or it doesn't. We bandaged his foot and supplied him with pain meds. Then we continued drinking.

Did you plan beforehand what you wanted to see during your journey?

TL: Yes, a coca plantation. We knew that they existed there everywhere. At first, it was a lot of back and forth. They were staving us off, but after a lot of endless waiting and our patient agreeing to it, they allowed us to go. Along with two attendants from the village, we paddled down a branch of the Amazon that became narrower over time. A labyrinth of branches we would have never found our way out of. Eventually, we ended up at one of the countless plantations. It wasn't harvest time, however, so the leaves weren't ripe yet. But you could see all the tools for it: mashers, bags, and hundreds of bowls. And a little storage.

Did you try the coca leaves?

TL: Yes. We were on the plantation. They hid the plants below banana trees, so you couldn't see the plantation from the air. I did try a few coca leaves, but there is no sorcery about it. You just stay awake and feel energized. Everybody is chewing on them there, it's like coffee, just ten times stronger.

Did you reach your physical limits during this journey?

TL: The body adjusts to the climate pretty quickly. After three weeks you don't sweat all that much anymore. Even the sun doesn't bother you as much anymore, because you're thoroughly cooked anyway. But the humidity requires getting used to. The people there are handling it very differently. They own to pairs of shorts, two t-shirts and beach slippers, and they walk around like that all day.

JK: The climate there is exhausting, you're sweat-soaked after only three minutes. Personally, I don't mind it, but to people who aren't used to it it's a pain. The route we went on was quite difficult in parts, it was very serpentine. You had to paddle the whole time, you had to steer, then there were shoals or the water became too flat, so we had to relocate the boat.

You didn't capsize though, like it happened to you on the Yukon?

JK: No, the water level during that season was way too low. Later on, when the water comes in from the Andes during the monsoon season, the level rises by 15 metres. It drowns out entire forests.

TL: I was there once during the monsoon season. Back then only the tree tops were peeking out of the water. That's why they build their houses on stilts, so the water doesn't reach them. Many villages are located on mountain tops, as the water level won't rise that high.

Considering the many preparations and daily challenges, did you ever find time to relax during such an extensive journey?

TL: Travelling on the Yukon wasn't stressful, because we were sleeping on the sandbanks. Those experiences made travelling the Amazon even easier. As the sun goes down very early there, our only concern was to make camp before 6PM. Whenever we found a good location we sometimes made camp even earlier than that, instead of travelling on and risking not finding a good spot. That only happened to us once, so we had to sleep in the jungle, which wasn't all that bad either.

With a camp fire and night watch?

TL: A camp fire, yes, but we didn't need a night watch. You have to trust your guide, those guys know what they're doing. Our guide went ahead a couple of metres with a bit of string and, within a few minutes, came back with six piranhas. Then we turned on the grill and ate. Piranhas are really tasty, like giltheads.

Did you gain more respect for nature due to this journey?

TL: I had a great respect for nature before that already. Still, I couldn't hold myself back from taking pictures with snakes. I love snakes, Joey thinks they're scary. (laughs)

What did you learn along the way?

JK: I asked the Indians to teach me how to fish with a cast-net and pulled animals out of the water, which an aquarist would usually pay thousands of euros for. Scalars, discus fish, loricariids, sisorid catfish, catfish in all shapes and sizes.

Here in Europe we read a lot about the fact that these romantic times might be of the past soon, due to the systematic ecocide. Is that what you saw over there?

TL: When you approach Leticia you can make out the slash-and-burn methods used below. We assume that every minute jungle area the size of 1.5 football fields gets cleared, for soy plantations or pasture areas. The search for gold is also devastating for the nature. They use mercury to wash the gold out of rocks and clay. The mercury ends up in the rivers, in the fish, and then inside the people.

JK: The Amazon traverses through the entire continent. It is so broad and deep, there are even bigger ships cruising the river than on our rivers here in Europe. They carry natural resources, mainly wood. You can find a sawmill every couple of kilometres. They carry the tree trunks there and cut them along the length (4m by 1,20m or even 4m). Those planks then get transported either by ship or overland, a systematic deforestation of the Amazon area.

TL: You find a lot of filth in the main stream: huge tree trunks, garbage, bags full of plastic, and a lot of wood waste. It's illegal, but everybody does it. Very obviously, even during the day, nobody cares.

Are the locals not aware of the drastic situation?

JK: The sawmills pay the farmers 250 to 300 euros for one tree trunk. The sawmills sell it for 2.500 euros, and then here in Europe it costs up to 30.000 euros.

TL: As soon as they saw us, the lumbermen turned off their chainsaws and fled into the forest, yelling: “Piss off!” They were afraid that those pictures would be seen by the world. Same thing for the fisheries. Usually, the fish leave the lagoons during the dry season and swim back into the main stream, because the lakes dry out. The law allows it that they cast a net over half of the lake, so that a part of the fish can swim past. Now, the fishermen close off the entire lake, with up to ten nets. No fish can get past that anymore, only the very small ones. They're overexploiting the area high and low. They even steal all the turtle eggs from the clutches. It didn't used to be that way, back then they would leave half of it where it was.

Do you think that could change, if other types of income would replace the exploitation, like tourism?

JK: I don't think that the parts Till and I went to would be suitable for commercial tourism. Let's be honest, the biggest income is ensured by the coca production. You would travel right into a drug area. We could only move around freely there, because the government was taking care of the cartel conflicts at the time. Apparently, the military is now in charge of the coca trade.

TL: Corruption is the order of business. A policeman is earning less than a coca farmer. Thus, bribery and blackmail are commonplace. Almost all of it is illegal: fishing with the many nets, the gold-seeking, the wood clearing and the coca plantation. The areas are huge and hardly controllable. Since president Bolsonaro is in power in Brazil, the clearing business went up by 30 percent. Bolsonaro announced officially that the Amazon is a product, and that's how the people treat it. They expel the indigenous people and allocate them to surrogate areas, their land goes to the gold-seekers and their prospecting rights. The surrogate areas aren't of any use, however, so they don't live in villages anymore, but in small cities. That'll turn out to be very problematic in the future.

Was it a bizarre experience to you to live with indigenous people, even though it is said that there is no room for the white man?

JK: I've seen tourism in parts of the world where I'd have never expected it. An example would be the South Pole. Once I reached by goal there a plane landed, six tourists came out and paid several thousand dollars for a four to six hour long stay. I thought there was a lot less tourism at the Amazon than anywhere else. The only tourists who travel there are either extremely rich Americans or Russians who come in by helicopter, no matter how expensive the journey. As long as they were there once in their life, took a picture with an Indian and a monkey, then they fly back to Bogotá. All in all, you only meet natives here.

TL: You have to differentiate. There are also motor boats and Americans with sun hats on, sleeping in their loggias. But not in the area we were in. There were children there, who pulled at our pants and ran to our kayaks, because they had never seen anything like it. A canoe made of plastic! They only know boats made out of wood. The kids played with our fishing poles, the angling reels, and were amazed by our lures and wobblers. They had never seen something like that before. They only knew of the hooks, where you put a little meat on. There was a lot of curiosity.

Did the journey affect your friendship at all?

TL: Our friendship didn't get any better or worse, it's been a good friendship before. We want our travels to be periodic. Joey and I want to grant us this sort of time off every two, three years. We realized we're getting better at it. We drove down rapids. While travelling on the Yukon we would have peed our pants, but now we're capable of really daring manoeuvres among waves that are 1.5 metres high. You get well attuned over time, become more experienced with the daily routine, the luggage, moving around.

JK: That was one of the reasons why we planned out the next trip right after our Amazon journey. We paddled down the Rhine in August 2020. We decided to do this during the Corona pandemic, because like that we didn't have to travel through so many countries and still got to tell the entire river's history, which led us through Switzerland, Germany, Liechtenstein, Austria, France and the Netherlands.

Do these travels to the Yukon and Amazon satisfy your wish for solitude?

TL: Like we said, we already travelled along the Rhine. The Nile will be next. The Mekong river is also on our list, but with the goal to start at its origin. These journeys are really important to us. We might have published up to six books some time. We still have a couple of goals ahead of us: The Nile, maybe the Mississippi, one Russian river and the Mekong. Like that we would have visited a river in almost each part of the world.

Which seems to be a difficult goal to achieve, considering the current Corona pandemic...

JK: Sadly so. Because even if Germany will be cleared of the virus, that might not be the case for Tanzania, where the Nile originates, or in Egypt, where it ends. There are five countries in between, after all.

Symbolically, what did you take home from this journey?

TL: Humbleness! And gratefulness for what we have. At the same time, however, a sort of incomprehension for how we live here in Europe. With so much waste, lunacy and luxury. The people we met didn't really have anything. Property and wealth don't mean anything. The huts, the boats, tools, even the TV, it all belongs to everyone. You eat and drink together, and most of the work is done as a community. They say people are happier there. I won't be the judge as to whether that's true, but life there is simpler, more manageable, and thus people there live more modestly. In Germany people get up in the morning, rush to the office, are stuck in traffic, sit at the computer all day or manage machines, rush back home in the evening. In comparison, it's very relaxed at the Amazon. The people go to bed early, when they wake up they go fishing, hunt or raise manioc and corn. Life there is structured in a very simple way, it's been reduced to only the bare necessities.

What is the first image you see when you think of Amazonia?

JK: Looking back, I'm always thinking of this one boat ride very early in the morning. It was still foggy when we started paddling. To the left of us I can still barely see riverside, apart from that only fog, I can only see for two, three metres. We are on the Amazon without knowing what's ahead of us. It's quiet, there is no wind, the water is calm... That was a great experience.

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again

Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.

Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.

We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.

Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.

A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.

(read more under the cut)

Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?

Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?

(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)

Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?

Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.

Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John” for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.

Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.

After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.

And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.

He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.

On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.

I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.

After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...

...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.

Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.

Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.

Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.

I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.

And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???”

And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.

This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?

Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.

So listen.

Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.

How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?

I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.

Then these guys all showed up.

Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?

Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?

Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?

Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.

And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.

PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.

Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:

PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.

In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?

But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.

And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.

Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...

Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...

Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)

the Spreadsheet Virus!

Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:

Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?

All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?

Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?

Joey’s fine.

MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.

And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.

Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.

Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.

I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).

Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.

Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.

So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.

Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.

Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:

I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.

Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?

He um.

Turned the lights off a little bit.

Guys this villain is like...

...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.

We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going  “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...

...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.

Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...

and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.

Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[dweetwise]

300 followers gift fic: beach episode

instead of taking a writing break i finally finished the crackfic i promised for 300 followers! it’s a little weird and i,, kind of make fun of frank a little too much but i hope you enjoy the silliness nonetheless!

characters: david, dwight, steve, ace, quentin, frank, julie, susie, joey ship: david x dwight warnings: mild violence, mention of blood word count: 6950 (hELP)

David feels his feet hit the ground as he’s teleported into a trial, the fog of the Entity slowly clearing from his mind. He opens his eyes—

—and promptly has to close them right after because bloody hell it's bright!

“Woah! Look at this!” an awestruck voice exclaims from somewhere nearby, and David thinks it's Steve, finally managing to squint his eyes open enough to try to make out their surroundings.

As soon as he does so, he immediately decides he's hallucinating.

He's on a sunny beach. There's waves slowly rolling onto the fine white sand and the sun is shining bright, high up in the clear blue sky.

The only thing that stops David from being sure that he's dreaming is Steve smacking him on the shoulder and uttering an excited “Dude, are you seeing this?” because if he was dreaming he sure as hell wouldn't be here with Steve.

“Where are we?" a voice that sounds much more fitting for his dream pipes up from behind him, and David turns to find Dwight making his way over. "Did—did we escape…?” their leader's tired eyes are wide with hope, and he rubs his arms nervously and—

Holy shit, he's shirtless.

Steve is shrugging and replying something to Dwight, but David's brain can't comprehend anything that isn't Dwight and his surprisingly well-defined, freckled shoulders and the adorable chub around his waist and fuck, David bets his skin feels so soft—

“What do you think, David?” Dwight asks, and David forces himself to tear his gaze away from Dwight’s torso to his face. But then he has those big, brown eyes looking up at him and searching for guidance, like David is even half of the leader Dwight is.

“Don’t seem like a trial,” David manages to get out through the mess of thoughts that is his feelings for the man. “Should look around—you stay close to me, eh?” he urges their leader, despite knowing full well Dwight is more than enough capable of looking after himself.

He takes some comfort in the fact that despite Dwight being aware of that too, the man responds with a nod and a small, if a little shaky, smile.

“Come on guys, hurry up!” Steve calls from a short distance away, reminding David that they’re not, in fact, alone. They follow the excited teen, walking along the shoreline.

As Steve prattles on about how warm it is and pesters them about whether or not they know how to swim, David tries and fails to focus on their predicament and not let his eyes wander.

He notices Dwight is wearing red board shorts with a pizza slice pattern, and tries not to smile. He wonders if it’s something he owned in the real world, or that the Entity made up just for this occasion. Either way, they’re way cuter than they have any right of being.

“Dude, I like the shorts!” Steve’s voice finally gets through to David, probably because he’s looking a little too intently at Dwight’s neither regions, but then he thankfully turns to give David the same treatment. “Yours are… uh, kinda neat too!”

And for the first time David actually takes a look at his own outfit. He hadn’t even realized he was also in swimwear, so used to going shirtless trial after trial. But sure enough, the Entity has put him in dark blue swim shorts, and he snorts upon spotting the cartoony beer pint pattern. He sure as hell has never owned a pair that looks like this, so apparently the Entity is enjoying playing dress-up with them.

“I think yours are cool too,” Dwight returns the compliment and David goes back to glaring at Steve, who grins and shows off his (really fucking ugly, in David’s opinion) striped shorts with pictures of ice cream cones.

Steve, thankfully, doesn’t have time for what would no doubt be an obnoxious reply, the sounds of an argument drifting over to the trio.

“—you should let me do it! I have Plunderers!” David recognizes Ace’s annoying voice before he spots the man, standing over what looks to be someone searching a chest.

“And I have Pharmacy, so shut it,” Quentin’s messy mop of hair appears over the chest when he offers a half-hearted glare at the gambler.

“Nobody wants a dusty old med-kit!” Ace huffs, hands on his hips. “Who knows what else we could find?”

“Too late,” Quentin snarks and finally rips the lock off, Ace sighing in defeat as he opens the chest. “What the… what’s all this?”

“Oi, what’s going on?” David walks up to the duo. “Did’ya find somethin’?”

“Hey, buddy—” Ace greets before David shoves his way past the man, peering into the chest that has Quentin so confused, coming face to face with…

“Beach equipment?” Quentin summarizes, lifting a water gun and a towel from the chest.

“Cool!” Steve has joined them and, predictably, gets excited, grabbing the toy immediately.

“Have you two seen anyone else?” Dwight asks Quentin and Ace, trailing after Steve to join them.

“Nope!” Ace chirps, grabbing a pair of sunglasses and a beach towel from the box. “Looks like it’s just us, unless the rest are… I don’t know, out at sea?”

“Half expected to run into a killer,” Quentin muses. “Guess we got lucky it’s just the five of us instead.”

“Shame it's just dudes. I bet the girls would've—uh,” Steve says, before seeming to realize how desperate he sounds. “Really enjoyed it too…?” he finishes with a sheepish smile.

“Uh-huh,” Quentin deadpans. “I'm sure that's the reason.”

“It's a tragedy the new guy isn't here," Ace sighs wistfully. “I’d pay good money to see him shirtless.”

David rolls his eyes while Dwight, embarrassed, chokes on nothing.

“Y-you shouldn't talk about Felix like that,” their leader stammers, completely oblivious to how David was ogling him earlier.

“Just saying what half of the camp is thinking,” Ace shrugs.

“I wonder if Jane's coming?” Steve seems to realize, glancing around as if expecting more people to pop up out of thin air.

“You're both disgusting,” Quentin snorts, starting to walk away from the group. “I'm going for a swim."

“But we don't know if it's safe!” Dwight calls after him.

"I mean… if I drown in Entity goo, don't come after me," Quentin merely responds, putting on some swimming goggles and making his way to the shoreline.

“I wonder why Quentin’s in a speedo and the rest of us have trunks?” Steve thinks out loud, and sure enough, David realizes he’s right, noticing Quentin’s swimwear when he swan dives into the ocean.

“Didn’t he use to do competitive swimming?” Dwight points out, because of course he would, because nobody knows any of them quite as well as Dwight, because he’s an amazing leader and friend and—

David’s train of thought comes to a halt when he glances around and notices what has to be a crime against fashion.

“I’d rather a speedo than whatever the fock tha’ is,” David snorts, gesturing to where Ace is laying his beach towel, wearing a pair of hot pink swimming trunks with a banana pattern, along with a trashy, bright yellow aloha shirt. Apparently he’s gotten so used to the man’s questionable style that he didn’t even notice the travesty until now.

“Aww, come on David!” Ace grins, taking his jab in stride. “I know you really wanted some pink shorts too.”

“It’s kinda funny that the Entity gave us shorts with our favorite food!” Steve grins while rummaging through the supplies in the chest. “I love ice cream, Dwight obviously likes pizza, and David beer, and Ace—”

“Cock,” David finishes the sentence, eyeing the banana shorts suspiciously, while Ace bursts out laughing, Steve’s eyes fly wide open and Dwight sputters something unintelligible.

“David!” Dwight finally manages to scold him, face red from embarrassment. “You can’t just say stuff like that—”

“Yeah yeah, sorry luv,” David grins apologetically, immediately cursing himself for letting the pet name slip. “’M goin’ for a swim too,” he decides, making his way to the water to try to get his thoughts in order.

David’s never been much of a beach person, not having enough patience to sunbathe and not a huge fan of swimming, either. But he can’t deny the warmth from the sun, even if fake, feels nice, and the soft sand under his feet is pleasant. When was the last time he even walked barefoot?

His toes touch the water and that’s where the pleasantness ends because goddamn, it’s cold! David can’t remember the last time he felt an actual chill, as the Entity seems determined to make sure they’re never too hot or too cold, even the snowy grounds of Ormond feeling room temperature.

But now, David has to grit his teeth as cold shoots through his system just from dipping his toes in. He glances at Quentin, still swimming around without a care in the world, and can’t imagine how the hell the teen managed to dive right in without going into shock.

David glances over his shoulder, wanting to see if someone’s looking at him freaking out over the water like a scared kitten. Steve is still engrossed in pulling out all the contents of the crate, before he hands a bottle of something to Dwight, who squirts some into his hand and starts—lord have mercy—lathering himself up with the sunscreen.

And David is helpless to do anything but stare, seeing Dwight work the creamy substance into his equally creamy skin, starting with his arms and then working it into his chest. He runs his hands down his torso, covering himself self-consciously when the softness around his belly jiggles slightly with the movement, and god what David wouldn’t give to be able to do that for him. He’d work the lotion into the skin nice and slow, taking his time and making sure to murmur how perfect Dwight looks and how good his body feels—

David’s brain does the equivalent of a record screech when his perfect, half-naked angel walks up to Ace, of all people.

“Ace, can you… uh, give me a hand with my back…?” Dwight asks nervously, holding out the bottle of sunscreen, and David thinks he's going to burst a vein from how much his blood pressure rises upon hearing the request.

Ace sits up on his elbows, before looking over his sunglasses with a smirk like the disgusting pervert he is, and David swears that if he lays a finger on Dwight's bare skin he's fucking throwing fists—

But then Ace's eyes meet his and a trimmed eyebrow raises in acknowledgement, still with that infuriating smirk on his face, and David's anger gives way to mortification because shit, what if Ace knows about his little crush?

To his relief, Ace just ends up sighing.

“Can you ask someone else? I'm kind of busy,” the gambler says, flopping back down to lay on his towel.

“Oh, okay…” Dwight says, looking so disappointed, and David’s breath catches in his throat because this is his chance!

“What the fuck, Ace?” Quentin emerges from the waves beside him before he can do anything. “Not everyone has your complexion. Some of us burn really easily,” Quentin scolds, walking up to the duo and no doubt glaring at the gambler. “Come on, I’ll help you,” he offers to Dwight, who returns a grateful smile.

Quentin starts rubbing the cream onto Dwight’s back, and then has the nerve to ask if Dwight can return the favor, so David grits his teeth and marches into the ocean to cool off so he doesn’t end up pile driving the teen into the sand.

He only manages to get deep enough for the water to reach his junk before he instantly regrets the decision, the cold making things shrivel up unpleasantly. He ends up just ducking his head into the water and wading back to shore, hoping that Dwight the others didn’t see him chickening out for the second time in a row.

The others are still engrossed in their own activities, Steve filling up the water gun in the shallows and Ace looking to doze off in the sun, Quentin and Dwight chatting nearby.

And nobody sees the strange group approaching from the treeline behind them.

“Oi!” David calls, getting the attention of his friends and picking up the pace to get to Dwight in case the strangers mean bad news. “Hope yer not lookin’ fer trouble,” he addresses the new group, causing the others to finally take notice of their company.

“Who’s that?” Quentin asks with a frown, taking in the sight of four people, two girls and two guys, dressed in swimwear and one of the boys even carrying a large swim ring on his shoulder. The group’s animated chatter dies down as they seem to notice their company.

“Oh my god, this is fucking typical!” one of the group, a young woman with blonde hair and a plaid bikini, scoffs in offense.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here!?” a skinny man with very questionable choice of swimwear, pastel purple board shorts with rubber ducks, demands.

“Fuck me, is the Entity pranking us?” the other man sighs, dressed in much more bland swimwear with black and white skulls.

“Aww,” the final member pouts, twiddling with her bright pink braid over her pink and black bikini. “Frank, you didn’t tell us there’d be others!”

David’s brow furrows upon hearing the name; it sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place it. Luckily, Dwight is much more of a quick thinker than he is.

“L-legion?” Dwight squeaks, his eyes going wide in fear, and David is now back to full alert because he’s right, they group is definitely the killers, David just didn’t connect the dots because of how normal the kids look.

“What, you gonna scream? Cry?” the leader, Frank, taunts obnoxiously, strutting to the front of his posse. “How about you guys go fuck yourselves and leave the beach to us, before someone gets hurt?”

Dwight takes a step back while David takes one forward, anger bubbling up because who the fuck does this prick think he is—

“Nice swimmies, Franky,” Quentin suddenly pipes up, making David stop in his tracks. “Did your mommy pick them out for you?”

“Tch—” Frank balks, his face scrunching up in anger even as redness rises up on his cheeks.

“He might have lost a small bet,” the pink-haired girl, David doesn’t recall her name, quips cheerfully in response.

“Shut up, Susie!” Frank hisses at his friend, before turning back to point at Quentin accusingly. “Of course you had to bring this waste of space, too!” he seems to direct the complaint at Dwight.

“S-sorry—” Dwight starts.

“Don’t,” David orders, placing a large hand on Dwight’s shoulder and stepping between their leader and the Legion’s. “This arsehole don’t deserve yer apology."

“Oh yeah?” the bigger guy, David thinks he remembers hearing his name is Joey, steps forward to back up his friend. Unfortunately, he doesn’t intimidate David in the slightest, especially not with only an inflatable beach toy as his weapon. “Maybe you should think twice about picking a fight.”

“Guys…” the blonde girl starts, sounding exasperated.

“Come on Jules, knives or not, we can take them. Easily,” Frank tells her, and David notices both Dwight and Quentin tense next to him, preparing himself to dodge a swing any second now—

“Ahoy, ladies!” Steve suddenly shoves his way to the front of the group, offering the two girls a cheeky grin and cocking his water gun against a hat he doesn’t have. “Would you like to set sail on an ocean of—” he falters, looking around the beach in thought. “…Water?”

There’s a moment of silence following Steve’s interruption, the tension in the air effectively disappearing as everyone stares at Steve with varying levels of amusement and disbelief.

“Um,” the pink-haired girl—Susie—comments, regarding the teen skeptically.

“Aww, he’s even more of a dork outside of trials,” the one named Jules—for Julie, right?—coos patronizingly. “Look at him with his little toy!”

“Thanks! You wanna have a watergun fight?” Steve is either completely oblivious to the jab or takes it in stride.

“I’ll shove that fucking gun so far down your throat—” Frank threatens.

“Kinky!” Quentin comments cheerily.

“Oh you’ll regret that—” Frank snarls.

“Children!” Ace’s yell snaps them out of the ensuing argument, everyone turning to face the man who has apparently finally decided to grace them with his presence.

“Ugh, it just keeps getting better,” Julie snarks sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“While apparently you guys had a negotiation with the Entity, we have no idea why it decided to put us here,” Ace explains with a friendly smile, ignoring the snide comment. “So why not try to make the most of it? There’s more than enough room for all of us. We’ll stay out of your hair if you do the same,” he says, giving a pointed stare at David and Quentin.

“Okay!” Susie beams.

“What? No it’s not!” Frank argues.

“Why not?” the girl whines. “I don’t wanna waste time fighting. This was supposed to be our day off.”

“So we gonna beat them up or what?” Joey seems to be getting impatient. “If not, I wanna go swimming.”

“Yeah, same,” Julie agrees. “Let’s just leave them be.”

“Fine,” Frank spits, glaring at each of the survivors in turn. “You’d better stay the fuck outta my sight.”

David wants to argue and he can sense Quentin does too, the teen biting his lip to suppress what would no doubt be a snarky comment. The only thing stopping David from picking a fight is Dwight’s hesitant hand on his arm, a wordless plea to not make the situation worse, and Frank would have to push a whole lot harder for David to ever deny Dwight.

“Looks like we have a deal,” Ace smiles, his shoulders sagging just the tiniest bit from relief.

There’s a silent understanding when the killers start making their way to one side of the beach while Ace motions for them to head back to theirs, and the situation looks to be peacefully resolved.

“Hey, you guys should check out the stuff the Entity gave us!” Steve suggests, inviting them right back over, most likely unintentionally, but it still makes Dwight sigh and David can even hear Ace groan in exasperation.

“I give up,” Ace sighs with a wave of his hand, leaving them to fend for themselves for when another fight inevitably breaks out.

David doesn’t really care if the killers grab some of the items meant for them, but it’s the principle of the thing, and his hands ball into fists while the teens rummage through the chest.

Susie eventually pulls out an inflatable pool toy with a unicorn that says ‘princess’.

“Oh my god, look how cute!” she squeals, holding up the toy.

“I bet it's Dweeb's,” Frank smirks smugly.

That's it, he's going down—

“You take that back!” David snarls, stepping forward aggressively.

“David, please!” Dwight protests.

“Yeah, can you guys not?” Julie sighs, rolling her eyes while procuring a pair of sunglasses from the chest.

“No one's impressed by this alpha male bullshit,” Quentin agrees.

“Not my fault this cocksucker can't take a joke—” Franks starts.

“Yer the one who's too much of a pussy to fight!” David accuses. “Let's go, right now!”

“Guys!” Joey yells. “If you really wanna butt heads, how about we play for it instead?” he asks, grabbing a volley ball from the trunk. “Our team versus yours. Winner gets bragging rights.”

“Oh, we're totally in! Right guys?” Steve, predictably, is all over the game.

David frowns. It's been years since he's played beach volley, but how hard can it be? Especially compared to his scrawny opponent; Frank probably hasn't done a day of sports in his life.

“Fine,” he spits.

“Fine,” Frank smirks.

“I'm in,” Quentin offers.

“Come on, Suz," Julie offers.

“You know I suck at sports!” the girl whines, but obediently goes to stand with the group.

Still missing one member for their teams to be even, everyone looks at Dwight.

“M-m-me!?” he squeaks.

Frank looks like he's about to say something, but is interrupted by Joey shoving the net into his arms.

“Come help me set this shit up,” Joey says with a pointed look and Frank rolls his eyes and complies.

Huh. Maybe that Joey guy isn't so terrible.

“Yeah, who else? Ace?” Steve is doing his best to encourage Dwight. “He’d probably throw his back out or something.”

“I heard that!” the gambler calls from his lazing around spot.

“And I'm sure you're better than you realize!” Steve continues, ignoring the comment.

“But I've never played,” Dwight says, still hesitant.

“You'll pick it up in no time,” Quentin encourages. “You don't even have to do much, we'll cover for you.”

“I don't know…”

“Pleeeaaase?” Steve whines and even pouts, clearly pulling out all the stops. “We really wanna play and if you don't we won't have enough players."

Dwight looks at David, and David does his best to give an encouraging smile.

“Come on, mate,” he says. “You’ll have fun, promise.”

That’s a lie, but David just really wants Dwight to be there to witness him kicking Frank's ass.

“Okay,” Dwight finally relents, looking away from David with a sigh.

Steve cheers loudly and soon enough, they’ve joined the Legion who have finished setting up the net and the game can begin.

It turns out the teams are surprisingly even. Steve and Joey are the best players by far, managing difficult serves, covering for the others and even extending to get shots David didn't even think possible.

Quentin and Julie aren't far behind in skill, not having the precision of their respective team captains but still succeeding in keeping the ball in play.

David likes to think he's better than Frank, but neither of them are doing too well, missing shots that should have hit and even causing the ball to fly out of bounds.

Dwight and Susie are the worst by far, with Dwight landing wet noodle passes at best and mostly just trying to stay out of the way. Susie is nearly actively sabotaging her team, squealing and covering her head if it looks like Steve or Quentin are going for a particularly rough hit.

Steve looks to be enjoying himself thoroughly, and David thinks he tones down some of his shots to prolong the game and give the others a chance. Quentin on the other hand is surprisingly competitive, often aiming for Susie's corner which is their opponent's weak link.

David mostly focuses his efforts on aiming at Frank's face, and from the way the teen keeps snarling and glaring at him, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

The Legion eventually turning against each other is kind of funny.

“Jesus, Frank, you suck ass,” Julie complains, watching the ball fly over the line when Frank hits it at a weird angle.

“I mean I’m not surprised that you guys know how to handle balls,” Frank snarks. “Personally, it’s not something I’d be proud of.”

“Then why did you spend three years practicing basketball?” Susie jokes, making her leader fume.

The survivors' camaraderie on the other hand is high, even as the scores are neck-to neck and adrenaline is running high. Steve takes every opportunity to encourage Dwight when he fails, and Quentin commends him when he makes a good play.

It should maybe make David jealous, but he's just happy to see Dwight smile and enjoy himself. He wishes he had the tact of the two to praise him too, feeling way more comfortable with showing off his athletic skill than actually talking to Dwight.

“Shit—” Steve dives into the sand and barely manages to save the ball after a particularly nasty serve from Julie. He doesn't get a clean hit, and the ball swerves a curve to the left instead of to the right where David was prepared to set it up, narrowly missing Quentin's head.

And then Dwight comes out of nowhere, managing to redirect the ball back into play, and David is so fucking excited he nearly misses the hit, but thankfully manages to get it over the net and Susie doesn't even seem to try to stop it.

“Go Dwight!” she cheers.

“Nice work, dude!" Steve whoops, spitting some sand from his mouth.

“I, uh,” Dwight is clearly flustered.

“That's what I'm talkin' about!” David encourages, smacking Dwight on the back and causing him to stumble forward.

"T-thanks,” Dwight smiles nervously.

“You done kissing ass?” Frank snarks, glaring at Susie.

“Yup, now we're gonna kick yours,” Quentin shoots back.

“Come on guys, 18 to 20! We can do this!” Steve encourages, and everyone gets back into position.

Julie serves again, and Quentin catches it. They get the ball over easily, and Joey raises it. Julie is in position to set it up it, and Frank jumps into the air, and David just hopes he misses the shot—

The ball whizzes past Steve and Quentin in front, and it's going way too hard to land within bounds, so that’s a free point for them—

But then David realizes the trajectory it's on, and time seems to slow down to a crawl as it hits Dwight square in the face with a sickening smack.

And David sees red.

When he comes to, he's on top of a struggling Frank and there are arms trying to restrain him from behind. The voices sound faraway and muddled because of the overwhelming sound of blood rushing in his ears. His arms are held back, so he headbutts Frank instead, and feels a sick sense of glee when he hears the crunch and Frank yelping out a curse.

“That’s enough, man! Cut it out!” a voice he doesn't recognize cuts through the haze, and David snarls, elbowing whoever it is in the gut. The restraint against his left hand gives way, and he's about to shrug out of the hold, ready to beat the living shit out of Frank—

And then he takes a bucketful of sea water to the face and it's fucking cold bloody hell—

“Merda—would you behave for two fucking seconds!?” Ace is yelling at them, angry for being disturbed again, a telling empty bucket in his hands.

The shock from the cold is the only thing that makes David resist the urge to redirect his anger in the form of his fist meeting the gambler's face.

“Steve, take David to cool off and punch a palm tree of something,” Ace commands like a frustrated mother. “And you three, make sure Frank doesn't do something stupid… well, stupider. Quentin, you’re helping me clean Dwight’s face.”

At the mention of Dwight, David snaps out of it and anxiously starts looking around to search for the man in question, soon noticing Quentin crouched by him and Susie anxiously fluttering nearby.

Seeing Dwight's bloody face breaks his heart, but luckily their leader seems to only have a nosebleed, even if the blood running down his face looks kind of gruesome. David hopes he didn't break his nose.

His anger threatens to bubble up again; if Frank ruined that pretty face—

“Okay big guy, let's go!” Steve apparently notices his shift in mood and is quick to drag him off.

David half-heartedly tries to protest but Steve isn’t letting up, and David follows him to the treeline just to get him to shut up.

Steve finds some coconuts and David takes the opportunity to punch one as hard as he can, pretending it’s Frank’s face. His knuckles sting and will probably bruise but it’s worth it, the loud crunch as the shell splits open making him smirk smugly.

When they get back to the others, Steve carrying a lapful of coconuts and David flexing his sprained hand but otherwise successfully calmed down, the others seem to be faring better too. Dwight’s face is a lot less bloody and he’s smiling shakily to something Ace says while holding what has to be a cold towel to his nose. The Legion are huddled near their leader, who’s slowly bruising cheek seems to be making him pout. Even if Joey is holding back snickers, Susie is trying to encourage Frank and Julie is patting him on the back in solidarity, proving that despite their bickering, the group does seem to care for each other.

“Hey, Frank,” David suddenly catches Quentin’s voice and sees a smug smile on the teen’s lips from where he’s approaching the killers. “I bet you can't swim.”

“Can too!” the gang’s leader says, predictably taking the bait and his pout immediately replaced by a defiant smirk. “Wanna race?”

When Quentin just clicks his tongue, pretending to be in thought, David knows Frank is in for a humiliation.

“Sure,” Quentin says, not giving anything away.

David eagerly waits for the two to get in position, a little jealous of how readily they get into the cold ocean water with barely a shiver. Steve gives a countdown, and then they’re off, Quentin effortlessly taking the lead and Frank falling further and further behind.

David doesn't feel the slightest bit bad for laughing, eager for the bastard to get any form of payback. Sadly, it doesn't really have the same impact when the rest of the Legion join in to make fun of their leader.

“You go, Franky!” Julie fake cheers between wheezes.

“Nice doggy paddle!” Joey laughs.

“You can still beat him! …If he drowns?” Susie tries to encourage.

After the race, Steve asks David for his help with cracking the coconuts, and even though David really just wants to talk to Dwight he can’t help but puff up his chest and flex a little from the teen obviously seeing him as the strongest of the group.

Later, the sun is already starting to set and David’s knuckles are even more bruised than before. The pain doesn’t bother him and the physical strain of the day has made him mellow out more than usual. When he notices Dwight sitting by himself by the shoreline, he finally gathers the courage to go talk to the man alone.

It looks like a day in the sun has done wonders for the group, lazy chatter and quiet laughter coming from friend and foe alike, scattered around the beach.

The girls have apparently ended up hanging out with Ace, Susie even wearing the gambler’s ugly shirt to protect herself from the now chilly ocean breeze.

“—and the Oktoberfest outfit, with the undercut? Swoon,” Julie says, doing a fake fainting motion into Susie’s lap, and Ace laughs and Susie giggles and bloody hell, are they still talking about Felix?

A bit further away, Steve and Joey are passing the volley ball in good camaraderie. David catches the end of a silly joke from Steve followed by snorting laughter from Joey, and it does kind of make sense that they’d befriend each other.

In the water, Quentin is still swimming while Frank lounges in the swim ring, taunting him. That is, until Quentin flips the ring and laughs, and Frank splutters and flails and hangs onto it like a lifeline.

David finally reaches Dwight, who doesn’t seem to notice him arriving, staring out over the horizon and looking to be deep in thought.

“Hey,” David makes his presence known, and as soon as those gorgeous brown eyes turn to look at him in surprise, the stupid nerves at the pit of David’s stomach resurface.

“Hi,” Dwight says with a small, tired smile. “Has everyone finally calmed down?”

A pang of guilt shoots through David’s chest at the words, recognizing his own part in creating most of the drama of the day. If he’d behaved himself, maybe Dwight wouldn’t have ended up hurt.

“Yeah,” David says, offering an apologetic grin. “Everyone seems ta be gettin’ along. Never thought I’d see the day we’d be hangin’ out with killers.”

“Hmm,” Dwight hums in though, turning back to watch the sunset. “Some of them are not that different from us.”

Seeing Dwight so calm and rational, David feels even worse for his numerous temper tantrums. He just wanted to protect Dwight.

“’M sorry ‘bout yer nose,” David sighs as he sits down next to the man.

“You didn’t do anything,” Dwight reassures. “I was just… wrong place, wrong time.”

“If I didn’t egg the wank—Frank on, it wouldn’t ‘a happened,” David argues, doing his best to swallow his resentment for the teen in question.

“It’s okay,” Dwight says, offering him a genuine smile. “I know you were just trying to stick up for us.”

David wants to come clean, to say everything he did was for Dwight, even if it only made things worse in the end. But no matter how much of a bravado he usually puts on, David knows he’s a real fucking pussy when it comes to emotions.

“Yeah,” he agrees like an utter coward.

“Thank you,” Dwight says anyway, smiling serenely like the absolute angel that he is, ready to forgive all of David’s dumb mistakes.

It suddenly hits him that Dwight always seems way more calm when they’re alone together, a stark contrast to him fidgeting and tripping over his words when they’re in a group and he’s put on the spot. Conversely, David’s confidence seems to fly out of the window as soon as he’s left alone with Dwight, desperately trying to appear casual while his heart does its best to beat out of his chest.

For some reason, Dwight enjoys and maybe even thrives in his company, and David in turn has never met anyone so understanding of his anger issues. He knows they’d be so good for each other—

Fuck it.

“Actually,” David starts, swallowing a lump in his throat but forcing himself to push through the embarrassment. “I didn’t do it fer them. I wanted to protect you.”

Dwight’s cute face twists in confusion, and David tries his best to keep unwavering eye contact despite wanting nothing more than to run away from the situation and his feelings.

“Oh,” Dwight finally says, and David thinks he catches the beginning of a blush before he averts his eyes. “I guess I am kinda weak, haha.”

“The hell ya are,” David argues. Damn, that’s not what he was going for at all, why is he so fucking bad at this— “Yer smart and determined an’ I really admire that about ya. Yer the best leader we could’a asked for, an’ even though ya don’t need protectin’, I just…”

David falters. He was doing so well, even managing to not put his foot in his mouth, but this is it. If he confesses his feelings, there’s no going back.

He looks up and meets Dwight’s eyes, and as soon as he sees the man who stole his heart look up at him with such blatant hope, he knows he has to try.

“I just care about ya,” he settles on.

Dwight swallows and his eyes search David’s face, and David doesn’t even dare breathe—

“Like… like a friend…?” Dwight croaks out, his voice now unsure and shaky, but he’s not looking away.

“Nah,” David says, shaking his head for emphasis. “Never saw ya as just a mate.”

Dwight’s cheeks flare red and he ducks his head, but David catches the dopey little grin before it disappears from his view.

“I—um, wow,” Dwight chuckles, fidgeting with his hands and not quite seeming to know how to react.

“Whaddaya say, luv?” David pushes, resisting the urge to pull the adorable geek into his arms and snog him silly. “Wanna do this?”

Fuck, hopefully he’s not being too forward. Dwight doesn’t seem like the type to have had plenty of relationship experience, but then again neither has David. Usually, he only had to flex a bit after one of his fights and wait for a bird or bloke to stroll up and make it clear they fancied him.

But those were easier times, and now he’s in a strange world within another dimension with a ragtag group of friends and confessing to a man he’s fallen for harder than he ever thought possible.

“Of course I want to do this,” Dwight mutters, sounding almost offended as he finally looks up at him with a smile. “I just never thought you’d go for someone like me.”

“Wha’, someone as perfect as you?” David smirks, nudging Dwight in the ribs with his elbow and causing a cute chuckle to escape the other’s lips. “Don’t sell yourself short, luv; I got high standards.”

“If you say so,” Dwight relents.

Despite Dwight self-consciously covering the cute rolls on his tummy with his arms, his smile is the brightest David has ever seen. They stare into each other’s eyes in silence, David with a dumb grin and Dwight with a bashful smile, and David feels so stupid that he didn’t see it before.

“Gonna give me a kiss?” David’s mouth says without his permission, the filter between his mouth and brain even more flimsy than usual because of the fluttering in his gut.

“I m-mean, my face is pretty busted up," Dwight stutters and turns his face away. “You probably don’t want to—I look even worse than usual, haha.”

“Bollocks,” David scoffs, leaning to nudge his forehead against Dwight’s temple. “Yer the cutest thing I ever seen.”

Dwight glances at him but still looks unsure, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in a nervous habit.

“We don’t gotta if ya don’t wanna,” David reassures. “But don’t hold back on my behalf—”

And that’s all he has time to say before a surprisingly eager mouth crashes against his own, the rest of his sentence muffled against Dwight’s lips.

Wholeheartedly on board with the sudden turn of events, David’s arms wrap around Dwight as of their own accord while he hurries to reciprocate. Dwight’s lips are chapped but so incredibly warm, and the enthusiasm with which he goes at it is making David’s heart swell—

“Shit,” there’s a pained hiss against his lips when Dwight tilts his head and bumps their noses together.

“Easy, luv,” David murmurs, tilting his head at more of an angle to avoid Dwight’s injury. He gently coaxes the inviting lips right back in and Dwight makes a sound of approval low in his throat.

Every fantasy David has had about this moment can’t compare to the real deal. Granted, his imagination has always been kind of shit, and there was no way he could have pictured just how amazing it is to kiss Dwight and how perfect he feels in David’s arms. He tastes a tinge of blood when he licks into Dwight’s mouth, but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, if anything it just eggs him on—

A loud wolf whistle carrying over the beach suddenly reminds him that they’re not alone.

Dwight pulls away much faster than David, turning to face their companions with a sheepish grin and a deep flush, while David lazily turns around to glower at the group.

Steve is still whistling from where he’s joined Ace and the girls, not threatened by David in the slightest. Then, to his annoyance, Julie starts clapping sarcastically and Susie hides her giggles into her friend’s shoulder.

“Ugh, finally!” Ace comments, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation, making David redirect his glare to the gambler.

“What,” David barely hears Quentin’s incredulous voice mutter nearby, still swimming with Frank and with Joey now having joined them.

“Uh. Congrats,” Joey offers, giving them an awkward thumbs up.

Frank, predictably, says nothing, only scoffing in disgust. Which, to be honest, is much more polite than David would have reacted if the roles were reversed.

“What are you—when did you—?” Quentin keeps going, looking so confused it makes even David snort out a half-laugh.

“Well, at least someone didn’t figure it out before these two idiots,” Ace sighs melodramatically.

“Seriously, doesn’t take a genius to notice them eye fucking each other all the time,” Steve grins, and holy hell, David really has been living under a rock if even Steve had figured out Dwight’s feelings before him.

He tunes out the others’ teasing as soon as a warm hand gently grabs his.

“Come on,” Dwight encourages with a playful smile. “Let’s go get it over with.”

His mood instantly elevating, David pulls them to their feet and rejoins their friends with his hand still clasped in Dwight’s. There’s some good-natured banter on their expense but that’s to be expected, and even though David half-heartedly threatens to clock Ace in the face for a questionable joke, he feels calmer than he has in years.

Dwight doesn’t leave his side for the entirety of their remaining time on the beach or when they’re teleported back to the campfire. And even if they have to go through the playful teasing and looks of disbelief a second time, David takes it in stride because he has the person he always wanted right by his side.

It takes way too long to get a moment alone from their nosy friends, but eventually, David manages to pull Dwight away from the camp to pick up where they left off at the beach, this time uninterrupted.

When Dwight breaks the kiss only to look up at David, with his bruised nose and some wetness in his eyes, murmuring that this is the best day of his life, David can’t help but agree.

[yandere-mha-blog]

Chapter 41: New start

words: 1050

When your whole life you had been told something and all of a sudden that fact gets swept out from under you, well nine out of ten times no one would take it well.

“What do you mean I have a quirk, I can't have a quirk-”

“(name) calm down deep breath.” Izuku said, “that is a lot to take in, you had a family right what were their quirks.”

“Well Joey had enhanced strength, my other brothers had enhanced eyesight, smell, and touch...I don't think I ever learned or remember what my parents' quirk was.”

“Well I was looking through that and well on your mother's side or your grandma, she had an emotional enhancement quirk.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well your mother was able to read and pick up people's emotions, your grandma had the ability to enhance people's emotions about others.”

“So she could make someone hate the other person?” you asked

“Yes, now looking through this trend it's safe to say that you being the only female in your family got a quirk similar to your mother and grandmother.”

“But I never was able to make people like or hate me.”

“It's an emitter quirk, and well your mother couldn't control the emotions she could see and pick up, so your quirk is most likely unable to control like hers.”

“So my quirk just makes everyone around me crazy!?”

“NO no of course not, peoples emotions towards you are just enhanced to a point where it is extreme, and just a hypothesis but as a professional who has been studying quirks it's possible the more time you spend around someone the more those feels are enhanced since your father did have a boost quirk for his senses, not as strong as your brothers I believe but that is most likely the family tree.”

“So everything is my fault, the bullying, Chuya, Katsuki everything is because my quirk that I didn't know I had makes emotions about me at a 100%!” you yelled, trying to get up

“Miss we still need to keep your foot compressed.”

‘IM DONE, I'M LEAVING!” you yelled

“(name) please sit back down,” Izuku said

“OH I SEE NOW YOU ARE BECOMING OVERLY PROTECTIVE AND CARING ABOUT ME, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE, NOTHING OF WHAT YOU ARE FEELING IS RIGHT!” you yelled “You can't keep me here. I'm leaving.”

“Shit my back hurts...ugh that damm nerd just fucking fell out of the sky.” KAtsuki thought as he was waking up only to see Kirishima next to him

“Hey, loopy the doc gave you a bunch of pain meds,” Kirishima said

“Fuck off…” Katsuki said, “Where the hell is (name).”

“(name)...well she left a while ago,” Kirishima said

“The hell you're talking about,” Katsuki said

“Well good news is that the doctor believes after a couple of days of separation you should get your senses back.” “If you don't tell me what the fuck is going on Kirishima.”

“(name) left a day ago, turns out that she does have a quirk.” “You better not be pulling my leg,” Katsuki said

“I’m not I wouldn't, turn out that she unknowingly and unwillingly enhances people's feelings about her, so we can kinda get why you went into crazy overprotective mode and tried to kill Denki and kinda beat me up to the point of almost passing out.”

“You are full of shit,” Katsuki said

“Dude, just think about it.” Kirishima said, “I mean the hospital informed the prison that her brother was at and well, he is getting out.”

“What happened to (Name)!?” Katsuki yelled

“I keep telling you we don't know and the hospital is going to keep you here till you calm down and the effects of her quirk wear off-”

“Don't bullshit me, quirk or not I know (name) she is probably off somewhere sulking and being an overall depressed mess, I'm leaving!”

“Well actually, The doctors said if you leave then the whole insicdent of you keeping (name) against her will at a cabin will get released to the public, they want to focus till you have a clear mind and can think correctly just a few more days.” “Are you shitting me right now!” Katsuki yelled, “If anything happens to her while I'm fucking detained her like some sort of criminal you are gonna be the one who pays for it!”

You had nothing, all you had was your wallet with about 150 bucks which was better than nothing, but everything else you had was left behind in the cabin, or in Katsuki's apartment in Tokyo. And here you were wandering the streets of the Shizuoka prefecture. Who could you even call, Katsuki who had just gone crazy, Ayame who you haven't even talked to in months that would just make her feel like you had been using her? Katsuki parents, no if they learned you made their son fall head over heels for you that just wasn't an option. You had been so mean to Izuku at the hospital and it would just feel shameful if you went back to him. Denki and Kirishima already did so much for you and nearly got their heads blown off.

S you have nothing wasn't right, you just had no one and that felt like a big nothing to you, you were right where you started but your biggest fear was made a reality, it was your fault.

So staying in a rundown shabby motel for a couple of days was just up your alley on how you were feeling. Just tucked up in the corner eating instant noodles and listening to the cars go by on the street as you wanted to just dislocate from the reality you were living in, oh how quickly things can change, what if you didn’t run and went back to Katsuki, back into his strong warm arms that held you close and made you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you. He would have just gotten worse from your quirk.

“I’m a terrible person for even thinking that.” you said

Once Katsuki has woken up and learned the truth he would be angry at you, hopefully, at this point, the quirk would wear off and he wouldn't be out for blood, You would have to do what you always did before meeting Katsuki, figure it out on your own, at least know you knew it's just a bad idea to accept help from others and try to get close to them.

[jalapeno-princess]

What if I Never Get Over You?

(He’s so pretty ugh God really does have his favorites)

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (A lot of curse words) (Angry Mark) (God bless)

Word Count: 8.9K

Summary: Mark was just seconds away from falling asleep after a long, exhausting day of work until Jackson comes over to his place, angry with the fact that Mark has been avoiding all of their many attempts to get him to move on. However, Mark has come to the realization even in the beginning of your break up that there is simply no getting over you.

A/N: Hey guys! So, this imagine is based off of the song “What if I never get over you” by Lady A and honestly it is one of my favorite songs ever and I’ve been listening to it on repeat for the last couple of weeks so I highly recommend that you listen to it while reading the lyrics hit me so hard for someone who has never been in a relationship once in the 22 years of my existence and I just found myself unable to stop typing this specific story. I’m currently in the middle of finals so I will be able to focus more on writing (If I’m being honest, I focus more on writing than I do on my education who am I even kidding LOL). This one is a little more on the sad side but the ending (I don’t know how I feel about it) but I consider it happy I guess? Please enjoy!

It's supposed to hurt, it's a broken heart But to movin' on is the hardest part It comes in waves, the letting go But the memory fades, everybody knows Everybody knows

What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye? And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do? What if I never get over you?

“Mark Yi-En Tuan—open the damn door. I have a bone to pick with you.” 

The word exhaustion couldn’t even describe half of what Mark was currently feeling. He had just finished work less than half an hour ago and against his friend’s pleas to grab a drink with them at the bar they normally frequented, he made a beeline back to his apartment. All he wanted to do was change out of his scrubs and sleep for the next twelve hours. 

Being a registered nurse was actually the last occupation Mark would’ve thought he’d ever get in to. As a young boy, all the way up until his senior year in high school, he never cared about anything other than playing baseball, video games, hanging out with his friends and eating junk food. He desired to “live in the moment” as much as he possibly could while he was still young and he decided he would worry about his future once he graduated from high school. Even when he did move on to college, he had no idea what his plans were. 

Like a lot of his friends, he was attending university in order to please his parents and to get a degree. In what—he didn’t care. Honestly, he thought about studying many different majors—engineering, kinesiology, biology, criminal justice and at one point—culinary. But he could never see himself settling in to any of those careers. His younger brother Joey knew that he wanted to be a pharmacist and unlike Mark; his soul purpose was to be successful in his education. 

At the time, Mark considered the younger boy to be a loser. He wasn’t living his high school life to his fullest potential—or at least that’s what Mark thought. On the day of his graduation, his principal began announcing each and every one of his classmates; what college they were attending, whether or not they received any honors and what they planned on majoring in. When it was his turn and the principal called his name, he was excited to finally be over with that chapter in his life. 

He expected to take the diploma and walk back to the bleachers like everyone else was. However, he felt exceptionally stupid when it was made aware that he had no idea what he was going to do after high school. Even his good friend BamBam—the class clown and the student with the lowest gpa in his graduating class had plans to go to college and major in hospitality. It made him feel pathetic and although the audience clapped right after he shook hands with his principal, he couldn’t help but feel as though some people were probably laughing at him. 

Hell, if he were to be sitting in the crowd and someone were to be in the same situation he was in, he would’ve laughed too. How could someone who was eighteen years old have no clue what he wanted to do for the rest of his life? That made him realize that Joey wasn’t the loser—Joey was extremely intelligent and planned for his future before he even realized what a future was. He was also the reason why Mark ended up going in to the medical field seeing as how his goal was to become a pharmacist and open up his own pharmacy one day. 

The younger boy; along with his parents and his friend Jinyoung coerced him in to attending med school because they witnessed how much of a people person Mark was and they felt like he would be very successful in whatever career he were to obtain. It wasn’t an easy road to success—in fact, he found himself wanting to give up more times than he could count on his fingers. 

College was already frustrating as it is, but majoring in nursing was one of the more difficult fields and a lot of the students who started off in nursing did not end up graduating with a nursing degree. Mark had no idea how he ended up getting his bachelor’s—let alone his master’s degree; especially because he felt there were so many students who were smarter than him and had more knowledge than him when it came to nursing who ended up getting kicked out of the program. 

Whenever he felt like giving up; when the multiple all-nighters he would pull in order to study for exams that he never seemed to be able to pass no matter how hard he tried, or the numerous amount of nights he found himself crying because he was afraid he wouldn’t make it and become the successful nurse everyone was expecting him to be—he remembered why he was going through all of that pain and suffering in the first place and it only gave him the motivation to continue until he finally achieved his goal. 

It took him almost six years, but it was worth it. He loved his job; although it could get very hectic almost every single day, he would get yelled at by patients for things out of his control, he got thrown up on, urinated on and even had families of patients threaten to get him fired, he also witnessed many miracles throughout the walls of the hospital and he got to meet a lot of people who would change his life. One person in particular that was the sole reason why his younger friend was currently pounding on his door—wanting to reprimand him for something he did a few days prior. 

Mark sat on his couch and weighed out his options; he could just let Jackson continue knocking on his door until he either got tired or came to the realization that there was a chance Mark was fast asleep by now. As good as that idea sounded, he was afraid that he would get noise complaints from his neighbors and the last thing he needed was to get evicted from his apartment over a ruckus he wasn’t even causing. 

Mark took in a deep breath and prepared himself for any confrontation Jackson might let out. He was expecting his rowdy and extroverted friend to bother him sooner, but then again —it’s not like Mark ever really hung out with his group of friends all that much in the last few months. If only he could say it was strictly because his job was working him to the core and making him exceedingly tired; if only it were that simple. 

He took a look in the peephole; curious as to whether or not Jackson was alone and if there was a chance he was drunk. The older boy released a sigh of relief when he saw Jinyoung and Yugyeom with him—he knew they would probably act as the mediators of Jackson went too far and said something to infuriate Mark. 

It’s happened many times in the past; Jackson Wang—bless his soul; but he had to be one of the most attention seeking and loud mouthed people that Mark knew. He also had no filter and said things like they were; he wasn’t afraid of hurting people’s feelings. Especially if those people just so happened to be his six good friends. As soon as he opened the door and saw the aggravated look on Jackson’s face, he had to stop himself from slamming the door and heading back to his room. 

“It’s almost midnight. I’m so fucking tired Jackson, this couldn’t have waited till the morning? Or at least an hour where I’m not drained of all my energy and won’t be able to fight back if the situation called for it?” 

Jackson ignored his comment and walked right past him—plopping himself on to Mark’s couch. The two other boys gave Mark apologetic expressions; it was obvious that they felt bad for bothering him at such a late hour—especially seeing that Mark was ready to knock out at any second. 

Neither of them wanted to be there, but when Jackson gets drunk—which he was currently plastered at the moment; heightening his confidence that Mark was quickly growing irritated with, he has a tendency of admitting things he would never say when sober and because their conversation at dinner consisted of Mark and his personal life, the five other guys knew leaving Jackson alone with Mark was not the best idea. 

One of them would end up with a black eye and a busted lip and there was a ninety-five percent chance that it would be Jackson. Mark was never a physical person; he never believed in violence and he tried his best to solve problems verbally before having to get physical. He’s been best friends with Jackson for almost sixteen years now—this meant that he was extremely comfortable with putting the younger boy in his place if he had to. 

There were only a couple times that Jackson and Mark either disagreed or actually fought over something and it was usually Jackson who’d instigate a lot of their quarrels. One time, Jackson said something that really got under Mark’s skin and he ended up with a busted lip. It wasn’t like the two of them stayed mad at each other for too long though; all it took was a few apologies, a couple of beers and some takeout that would get the both of them back on speaking terms. 

Jinyoung and Yugyeom weren’t too sure about what would happen between their two oldest friends tonight. Jackson was furious with Mark—he went in to great detail about how he was going to give him “a piece of his mind.” They didn’t completely agree with the points that Jackson made; especially because Mark was old enough to make his own decisions and nobody, not even his really good friend could tell him how to live his life. 

“Why did you tell Sophia that you weren’t interested in a long-term relationship? She called me crying this morning saying that you no longer were interested in her—“ 

Mark rolled his eyes at Jackson’s complaints. He knew he would get an earful sooner or later about how he’s been avoiding Jackson’s and even the rest of their friend group’s many attempts at trying to set Mark up with someone they knew—whether it was a coworker or a mutual friend. A couple of weeks ago, Jackson introduced Mark to a friend of his girlfriend. 

He wasn’t going to lie, Sophia was very pretty; she was also very smart—had a bachelor’s degree in family law and she was still in school trying to get her master’s. However, Mark wasn’t interested in her—or any of the girls that the rest of his friends tried to get him to go out with. He understood that his friends were only trying to help him “get back in to the game” or whatever BamBam said—but the eldest boy did not want anything to do romantically with anyone his friends were trying to set him up with. 

“Because I’m not. I was never interested in her to begin with. I was just going on these dates with her to get you off my back. She’s a nice girl; all the girls you guys tried to introduce me to are nice girls—but I don’t want a relationship right now Jackson nor do I even have the time to focus on another person, I barely have time to take care of myself. I know you guys are worried about me, but I’m fine. I’m twenty-seven years old; sure I’m not as young as I used to be, but settling down in to a relationship is the least of my worries. If you’re just bothered by the fact that I’m the only single guy in the group and you pity watching me sit by myself while you’re all accompanied by your girlfriends, I just won’t go out with you guys anymore.” 

When Jackson let out a scoff, the two younger boys looked at each other cautiously. Shit was going to hit the fan soon and they were afraid if they didn’t leave within the next five minutes, punches were going to be thrown. They also grew worried that if both Mark and Jackson were to argue, especially over the topic of Mark’s love life, that it might actually ruin their friendship with no promise of reconciliation. 

“Stop giving me that shit Mark. It’s not because you’re busy—you’re still hung up over y/n! That’s why you’ve been pushing away everyone from your life and I’m sick of it! It’s been almost seven months Mark, you need to move on. She obviously isn’t coming back. If she genuinely still loved you, she would have never left in the first place. Stop trying to look for y/n in other girls and stop letting another chance at being in love again slip through your fingers because you have this stupid hope that one day, she’ll realize that she made a mistake in breaking up with you—“

“Jackson, shut up—“

“For all you know, she’s already moved on—“

“Jackson, if you know what’s best for you, you would shut up—“

“Maybe the reason why she left is because she found someone else—someone who would give her the love and attention you failed to give her towards the end of your relationship and that idea alone is what’s messing with your head. Thinking about her loving someone else, finding solace in someone else, fucking another man—“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP JACKSON. YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT. YES, I STILL LOVE Y/N. I’M ALWAYS GOING TO LOVE Y/N—IT’S ALWAYS GOING TO BE Y/N. I HAD THE FUCKING RING AND EVERYTHING SO DON’T YOU THINK FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND THAT I’M EVER GOING TO MOVE ON TO SOMEONE ELSE. I TOLD YOU ALL AFTER THE SECOND FAILED DATE YOUNGJAE TRIED TO SET ME UP ON THAT I HAD NO INTEREST IN CONTINUING THESE BLIND DATES. I DON’T NEED ANYONE’S HELP IN FINDING ME A RELATIONSHIP BECAUSE I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO BE IN ONE AT ALL IF IT’S NOT WITH HER. GET THAT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING HEAD.” 

Once those last few words fell out of Mark’s mouth, the entire room fell quiet. Yugyeom and Jinyoung were stunned—Mark was a very soft-spoken and timid individual. Most people who were newly introduced to him could get a couple of words out of him if they were lucky. A lot of his patients at the hospital could go on and on in conversation and he would simply just him or nod his head as a way to communicate with them. 

However, whenever it came to his friends and family, the eldest boy could talk up a storm. Mark was a very kind-hearted person; he was known for having a lot of patience and understanding—but he also had a huge temper. It took a lot for something or someone to piss him off; especially because he didn’t want anyone to look at him in a negative light. Normally, he could keep his ill-feelings at bay, but there were a few occasions where he allowed himself to yell or grunt in frustration. 

Your relationship was a very touchy subject. Sure, it’s been over half a year since that night where you told Mark you no longer could handle being suffocated in your toxic relationship and usually most men were known to bounce back after a week. But Mark wasn’t like most men and you weren’t just any ordinary woman. You were the love of his life—his soulmate, his best friend, his person, the one he wanted to settle down, start a family and spend the rest of his life with. 

He was devastated when you told him you were leaving and he even tried his best in to getting you to change your mind. He made so many promises of bettering himself in order to be a boyfriend you were proud of. He repeatedly told you that he would be nothing without you and that he would do anything in his power to get you to change your mind, but it wasn’t enough. Mark was well aware that his job play a huge role in your breakup. 

Most of his time was spent at the hospital—but you were very considerate and understanding that his career was one of his main priorities other than his friends, his family and you. However, during the small amount of free time that he had, Mark had a tendency of spending that time either playing video games, going out to bars with his friends or playing with his dog Milo. As his girlfriend, you’ve witnessed how exhausted he could get from work; he was constantly on his feet for ten to twelve hours a day. 

It was only natural for him to want to relax and unwind doing the things he was interested in. You wanted to be there for your boyfriend in whatever way you could, but you also had your needs and desires—not necessarily sexual, but there was a point in your relationship where you went weeks and even months without being intimate with Mark because he was always so tired and never had the energy to love on your body in the ways that he used to. 

There was a time—a long amount of time in your relationship where the two of you could never keep your hands off of each other to the point where your friends would purposely have to sit between the two of you on nights you would all go out together in attempts to get the two of you to stop kissing or simply just showing any kind of affection towards one another. Unfortunately, towards the end of your relationship, you were only getting a peck on your lips if you were lucky. 

Your relationship no longer had the spark that would send flames to your entire body just being around him—you no longer felt butterflies in your tummy whenever you looked at him. Sometimes when you’d gaze at him, you felt as though you were looking at a stranger, not the man you spent four years of your life with. You never understood where it went wrong; it just felt like the love and adoration Mark had for you just stopped out of no where. 

He no longer called or texted you on his breaks to check up on you and see what you were doing, he stopped complimenting you on your outfits or if you did something new to your hair and the two of you could no longer hold a conversation for longer than five minutes without it feeling forced. You wanted to believe that he was just acting like this because work took up his entire being—physical and mental health. But he would go out with his friends right after a shift and sometimes he’d stay out for hours on end. It made you wonder if you were the problem. 

Maybe he stopped loving you or your relationship became a chore to him and was no longer a priority to him as it used to be. The constant need to be around each other, the comfort you felt from being wrapped in his arms and the happiness that came from just knowing that he was yours no longer existed. It disappeared completely along with any kind of feelings you harbored for him and you didn’t think there was anything that could bring it back. 

The thought of no longer having Mark in your life; no longer waking up to his devastatingly handsome face—no longer getting to kiss his pretty, pink lips, and no longer being the lucky person who got to love him—it slowly tore your heart apart, but what could you do? You felt as though the only reason why Mark continued to stay with you was because he grew comfortable with the routine in your relationship. Having to go out and start another relationship with someone new wasn’t something you even wanted to think about. 

Deep in your heart, even if the two of you were going through , Mark Tuan was the only person you saw yourself wanting to get married to. All you ever wanted and could ever need was Mark. He owned you entirely; your mind, your body, your heart and soul—it was all his and it would always be his. But you couldn’t continue going on like this. Your relationship was slowly tearing you apart; it was suffocating you to the point where you felt as though you were going crazy. 

Every now and then, you’d find yourself going back to that fateful night where you told him you were leaving. It took you weeks to come to that decision; hell, even months really. Every time you built the courage to finally give up on Mark entirely, you’d look at him as the two of you were lying down in bed and time to time, you would cry. He seemed an entire world away even if the two of you were just inches apart. 

He might have been in the bed with you—but it genuinely felt like the bed was so spacious and empty. However, as you would gaze at him while he slept soundly, there was a little voice in your head begging you to wait a little longer. Something told you that things were going to get better and your life would turn out miserable if you were to break up with him. 

You prayed and prayed that the voice was telling the truth; you wanted your relationship to work so badly. He might not have been giving you much attention these days or treating you the way he used to, but you would rather continue to stay with him and try your best to fix your crumbling relationship than to be happy with anyone else. When he saw your luggage lined up at the door he didn’t even flinch. It’s as if he knew this was coming; and it didn’t seem to bother him one bit. 

That’s what hurt you the most; his blank expression only confirmed your worries—he no longer loved you or cared enough about you to even ask why your bags were packed or where you were going. He just simply stared at you for a couple of minutes before tilting his head in the direction of your bags. 

“Where are you going?” He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that you were seconds away from walking out of his life completely. 

“I’m leaving you.” 

The words were bitter on your tongue—there were a few times in your relationship where the two of you argued and it would end up with him sleeping outside on the couch—but that’s the worst it’s ever been. This was the first time you were actually throwing in the white flag; you were mentally exhausted. You refused to continue fighting for a relationship that was barely even existing anymore. If you were to continue putting your time and effort in to Mark knowing that he no longer did the same for you, you would probably develop some form of depression. You loved yourself too much to allow him to continue breaking your heart and taking advantage of your love. 

“Why?” You scoffed—he had to be joking right? Did he think that the two of you were okay? Was he fine with the fact that your relationship was no longer what it used to be? Did the lack of intimacy or time spent together not bother him at all—the way it was quickly ruining you? 

“You don’t love me anymore. I don’t know when you stopped—but all I know is that you did. Our relationship turned it to this toxic partnership. I don’t know what happened or what went wrong, but I’m so fucking unhappy Mark. I look at you and I don’t see the love of my life—I don’t see the aspiring nurse I met all those years ago who showed me and taught what love is. All I see when I look at you is a shell of the person you used to be. You’re like a stranger to me Mark and I hate—I fucking hate that things turned out like this and what’s killing me the most is that it doesn’t seem to bother you. You hardly make time for me—for us. It’s like you have to force yourself to genuinely enjoy being around me these days. Go look at your missed calls and all of your text messages. It’s all me. I’m practically begging for your attention and any kind of reaction out of you and nothing—literal nothing. I don’t know what to do anymore; I don’t want to leave Mark. I don’t want to be without you. But why should I continue putting in effort to a relationship that is just moments away from ending completely—“

“What makes you think that I no longer love you—wait—don’t answer that.” 

He took a deep breath in before walking towards you and doing the unexpected; he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and gently placed his forehead against yours. This was the first time in such a long time that you were this close in proximity with him—having him hold you, touch you, looking at you in such an apologetic way; you honestly didn’t know how to feel. You wanted to be happy; anytime Mark would touch you, kiss you, hold your hand or your waist, wrap his arm around your shoulder—any form of intimacy with your boyfriend always made your heart flutter. Unfortunately, you felt nothing and it broke your heart. 

“I know, I haven’t been all that great these days, I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. I’m so fucking sorry baby—so fucking sorry. There’s no excuse—I can’t say it’s because of work or come up with any other logical reason. I guess I just got used to us doing our own things. I was content just having you around. I don’t know how I went so long with the distance—or being absent even if I’m physically there. I just—fuck, I know it sounds wrong but I just assumed because I plan on spending the rest of my life with you that a little bump in the road wasn’t going to do anything to hinder our relationship. If I knew that it was going to cause you to question the love I have for you and even get you to pack your bags with the intention of leaving me, I would have done something—“

“But you didn’t Mark. You knew something was wrong but you didn’t do anything about it. You just assumed that whatever we were going through was normal. News flash—it wasn’t. Our relationship is falling apart at the seams Mark. Did it not occur to you even once that the distance—the fact that we could no longer hold a decent conversation, that we haven’t had sex or been intimate in the last few weeks—it’s not normal? You obviously never put my feelings in to consideration. I’m dying Mark—mentally, you’re breaking my fucking heart.” 

You allowed yourself to take a quick breath; you could feel your tears continuously building up at the brim of your eyelids. As much as you didn’t want Mark to see you cry because you didn’t think he deserved it—it was too hard for you to keep your crying at bay.

“The love you have for me—that’s a joke right? You no longer love me. I don’t know what you think you feel for me but it’s definitely not love or at least it’s no longer love. If you still loved me, you would continue to show me and tell me like you never failed to do before. Showering me with your love, attention and care shouldn’t stop just because you have me—I don’t care if you’re used to our relationship or if you’ve grown comfortable where you don’t feel the need to contact me or check up on me—I don’t even care if I’m not your main priority. I’m completely understanding that your job takes up your time and energy, but I need you to know how shitty I feel every time I see you staying up to play video games or going out with your friends. I never wanted to be that girlfriend; I want you to be happy—your happiness is all that I care about, but it would be nice if I could be your happiness. Tell me Mark, when did you stop caring about me? When did you stop caring about my mood, my thoughts, how I was feeling, how the state of our relationship was? I can’t even remember what your lips feel or taste like, does it not bother you at all?” 

You saw him inch closer to you; you assumed he wanted to try and pull you back in to his embrace but you found yourself stepping back. When Mark saw you try to get away from him, that’s how he knew it was over. Once you were to get everything from off your chest, you were going to leave and there was nothing he could do about it. 

He could continue to persuade you to stay—he could promise you that he’d change and that your relationship would return back to what it used to be, but there was no use. Hearing to confess how lonely you felt; how heartbroken he made you and how you didn’t even feel like you were in a relationship with him at all shook him to the core—he knew you were leaving, no matter how hard he’d try to get you to change your mind. You were the kind of person that when you set your heart to something, it would always prevail. A break up was no different. 

“Y/n, please. I can’t—I can’t do this without you. I need you. I’m nothing without you. If I lose you, God I don’t think I’ll ever love again. You’re it for me baby, I mean that. You’re all I could ever want and need for the rest of my life. I’ll do better, I’ll be a better boyfriend—I’ll make up for all the lost time and I promise you, we’ll be okay again. Please baby, find it in your heart to forgive me. Everybody makes mistakes, we’re only human—“ 

As soon as he felt your dainty fingertips cup his cheek ever so gently before you placed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, it felt as though his soul left his body. You didn’t have to say anything; your actions spoke volumes for you. Your fingers were featherlight on his skin; it took every bone in his body not you pull you closer to him and hold you as tightly as physically possible. He didn’t know he was able to actually feel his heartbreak. Whenever someone would describe suffering from a broken heart, he thought they would be hurting mentally, psychologically or spiritually but right now, he could feel his heart crying—begging for you to give him one more chance. 

“Y/n—please—“ 

You could have sworn your heart sank to your stomach once you heard his voice crack. Your bags were already packed and you made the decision to finally leave months ago, why were you suddenly regretting your decision? You mentally prepared yourself for this reaction although you’d be lying if you said you expected him to break down and beg you not to leave like he currently was right now. If anything, you expected complete silence—with the way he’s been acting in the last few weeks, you just assumed he no longer cared about your presence or being in a relationship with you. To see him on his knees crying and begging for you to change your mind—you wanted to just say fuck it and pull him in to your embrace. 

He was trying—he promised he would change and do better; you wished his words could be enough for you. There were so many doubts in your mind telling you that he was all talk. That—he would try and put more time and effort in to your relationship, but it wouldn’t last long. He would get tired of having to prioritize you—tired of having to please you. You couldn’t put yourself through all that unnecessary pain again—the pain of not feeling good enough for him to want to spend and make time for you. 

You couldn’t force him to love you the way he used to—you loved Mark, God, did you love Mark. Honestly, you would do anything to make him happy; you would sacrifice your own happiness to make sure he was always smiling and thriving. But during the distance, since you didn’t feel like you had a boyfriend to love, you began to fall in love with yourself. While you were losing Mark, you were finding yourself.

“I have to go Mark. One day, you’ll see why I made this decision—why I felt as if this was the only choice I had. I love you Mark. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I don’t think you will ever be able to fathom just how much I love you and how I would go to the ends of the earth just to make sure you’re well taken care of. Your happiness and well being is all I care about. You are all I care about—I just—I need time to heal. I need time to grow and to rediscover happiness. I need to learn to live without you. Who knows, maybe being apart will lead us to want to come together again. I love you and you love me—if it’s meant to be, we will find our way back to each other again. I’m really going to miss you. Please take care of yourself.” 

With one more kiss on his lips, you took your luggage and left. Mark couldn’t describe just how heartbroken, helpless and genuinely miserable he was now feeling. He wanted to run after you and yank your bags out of your hands—he knew he could try harder to get you to stay, but he didn’t want to make things worse. The first few weeks were the hardest; Mark felt as if he could die from a broken heart. He couldn’t eat—he had no appetite. 

His mind kept replaying the way you left so easily—taunting him like a bad dream. He felt like he was having a nightmare that reoccurred every single day. He couldn’t stop thinking about you—how you were going about the entire breakup, where you were staying, if you were suffering even half as much as he was or if you were regretting your decision even just a little. 

As the months went by, nothing changed—even if he tried his best to move on, he felt in his chest that there was no getting over you. He meant what he told you on your last night together, he was genuinely afraid that he would never be able to find closure nor would he ever be able to fall in love again. He didn’t want to be in love again if it meant with someone else. You owned Mark entirely; his mind, his body, his heart and his soul—they all belonged to you and they always would. 

Jinyoung and Yugyeom knew it would be best to get their older friend out of there before Jackson said even more things he probably shouldn’t or before Mark grew physical. 

“We should uh—we’ll get going here. Mark, man I’m genuinely sorry this happened tonight, we shouldn’t even have come here. I should have tried harder to stop him but you know how Jackson gets when he’s drunk. I’m really fucking sorry dude about everything. You know what Jackson said isn’t true and I’m sure he doesn’t even know what he said. He’ll probably wake up tomorrow morning completely brainless about everything—“ 

Mark gave Jinyoung a sad smile before pulling him in for a hug. If anyone understood what Mark was going through, it was Jinyoung. Mark wasn’t the type to tell people of his problems—no even the people closest to him. If something bad happened to him, he would suffer all by himself because he didn’t want other people to worry about him. 

However, Jinyoung was the only one Mark allowed to see him in such a vulnerable and fragile state. Sure, Jinyoung also tried to set him up with one of his friends, but that’s only because he wanted Mark to get another chance at love. He hated seeing Mark so sad—so dejected and moping around, living but not really existing. Although Jinyoung really liked you for his older friend and believed that the two of you were soulmates, he also believed that if you still wanted to be in a relationship with Mark, you would. 

No matter how hard relationships could be sometimes, you never give up on someone you picture spending the rest of your life with. If you genuinely love someone, you’re going to fight for them even if the battle can be too much to handle. He saw Mark through so many phases of depression and grief; he’d witness Mark finish bottles of wine in one sitting while crying at every single thing that reminded him of you. Unlike Jackson though, he wasn’t going to force Mark in a relationship if he didn’t want to be in one. He was a grown man—he could make his own decisions himself. The last thing he or anyone in his situation needed was for his friends to get involved in his personal life. 

“Jinyoung, do you think you could do me a favor? I um—I think I want to be alone for a couple of days. Do you mind telling the other guys to let me be for a little while? I just—tonight was too much for me. I don’t want to get angry with any one of you. I can’t say how long I plan on being away I just—I don’t need this right now.” 

There was so much Jinyoung wanted to say—he didn’t think it was a good idea for Mark to be alone and he wished Jackson just kept his mouth shut, but he also knew that nothing he could say would get Mark to change his mind. He nodded in agreement—not wanting to make the older boy even more upset before motioning for Yugyeom to pick up Jackson’s sleeping figure from the couch. 

“Promise me you will call me if and when you need me. Oh, and please look after yourself. If you’re not going to allow me to come and check up on you can you at least make sure you’re eating all your meals and getting enough sleep?”

“I promise. Let me know when you get home alright? Thank you Jinyoung, I really don’t know what I would do without you.” 

Mark didn’t know if he liked it better now that the three boys were gone. He might have been angry with Jackson’s obnoxious outburst, but now he was alone with the thought that you might be seeing someone else. You did mention that you would always love him; but if you missed him the way you claimed you would, wouldn’t you have come back running to him a long time ago? There might have been distance between the two of you while you were still together, but no longer being in a relationship was a extremely different scenario. 

At least while the two of you were still together, he knew you were his and that he could come home to you. But now, he didn’t know anything that was going on in your life. For all Mark knew, you could have moved to another state or even another country—and now Jackson’s words were messing with his mind. Were you seeing someone? Did you already move on to somebody else and if so, did you see a future with that person? Did your mind ever wander over to Mark and how he was doing? 

His skin began to crawl at the thought of you being intimate with someone else—he knew he had no right to, you were no longer his to get jealous over and he was the reason why you could now go out and start dating whoever you wanted. He wanted to scream—he was already doing so bad as it was, why did Jackson have to make him feel even more shittier than he currently was? 

He found himself looking through his cupboards for any kind of alcohol, he honestly didn’t care at this point. Mark was not a heavy drinker; he never understood why his friends enjoyed wasting their money on alcohol only to get drunk, not remember a single thing and wake up with an extremely painful hangover. He wanted to take his mind off of you and the only way he could do that was if he was inebriated. 

These last few months, his mind seemed to be filled with the thought of you every single day, but never did he feel like he wanted to stop thinking about you. Now that he knew there was a chance you had another man in your life, he wanted to completely rid you from his thoughts—at least for the time being. When he found a bottle of tequila way in the back of the cabinet, he released a frustrated sigh. Mark hated tequila—it had to be one of the worst kinds of alcohol there was. Not only did it taste nasty, but it felt even more horrible going down.

At this point, he didn’t care—it was all he had and he was going to take what he could get. He pulled off the cork and took a few big gulps. It made him gag a little—drinking straight from the bottle wasn’t something he was used to. Especially because tequila was meant to be either mixed or taken as shots, not to be consumed like it was water. He could feel tears building up at the brim of his eyes at how hard it was to drink it, but slowly and surely, he could feel himself getting lightheaded and moments away from completely being plastered. 

When his vision grew hazy and his movements slowed down, he decided he would make his way to his room with the intention of falling asleep. It took him a while to get up from the floor and he was grateful that Milo was fast asleep in his doggy bed. He loved his little puppy more than anything and for the last few months, Milo was his own personal therapist. He made Mark smile when Mark didn’t think he was capable of that motion anymore. 

However, he didn’t think he was in the right mind to take care of himself—let alone a dog. Walking in the direction of his room felt like such a hassle. What usually took him a good ten seconds felt like hours—his feet were heavy against the hardwood floor and finally, once he opened his door and flopped on top of his bed, he hummed in content. Luckily he was already changed in to his pajamas before the guys came over so he didn’t have to do anything. He didn’t realize just how much tequila he consumed; his eyelids felt heavy and he was dozing in and out of sleep. 

Right as he was about to completely enter dreamland, he felt something vibrate. The buzzing noise sounded so far away, even if he knew his phone was nearby. It was probably just Jinyoung telling him he was home now—it could wait until the morning. He continued to try and fall asleep; ignoring the constant buzzing that seemingly wouldn’t stop. With a grunt, he went on the search for his device, moving his hand all around the bed until he found it. He knew whoever was trying to get in touch with him didn’t seem like they were going to stop anytime soon, so he rubbed both his eyes in attempts to break him out of his exhausted and drunken haze before checking his notifications. 

Once he saw your name, he had to do a double take—there was no way you sent him a message, he had to be hallucinating. How high was the percentage of alcohol in the tequila? His mind was definitely playing tricks on him—or maybe he was actually asleep and it was his conscience coming up with what he wishes would happen? He abruptly sat up; causing him even more dizziness, but he had to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he did. Seeing your name in his phone after seven months of not hearing you sent so many emotions and feelings to his chest and he felt overwhelmed. 

Was he happy? Sad? Angry that you took so long? Excited? He couldn’t help but feel as though something was wrong. Were you okay? Did something happen to you? Did you finally come to the realization that you missed him and that you were willing to give your relationship another chance? A part of him—probably the part that was still upset with you for breaking his heart told him to ignore the messages—he wanted to lie and say he didn’t care anymore and that he was genuinely going to do whatever he could to forget about you completely. But who was he kidding? There was no getting over you. Ever. His heart begged him to click on your contact and that’s exactly what he did.

Babe: Hey. 12:54 A.M.

He mentally cursed himself for not changing your name in his phone but he couldn’t find it in himself to do so. He didn’t have the right to call you any term of endearment anymore, but once he were to change your contact to your actual name, it cemented the idea that things were actually over and he wasn’t going to give up on you just yet. Until he were to find out you were seeing someone else or that you had no intentions on getting back with him ever again, he was going to continue holding on to that tiny string of hope that one day, you’d be back in his arms again.

Babe: I’m sorry it’s so late. I mean that in more ways than one. 12:54 A.M.

Babe: I—I honestly don’t know where to begin. Let me just start by saying I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Mark. And I miss you. I miss you so much. 12:56 A.M.

Babe: I know it’s been a while and I don’t know why I felt like I could just text you out of nowhere. I understand if you’ve moved on or if you want nothing to do with me anymore. 1:02 A.M.

Babe: I’m not going to lie and say that I made a mistake breaking up with you. I knew it’s what was best for the two of us at the time. But I will admit, I’ve thought about you every single day since I left. I’m sure you’re wondering what took me so long to come to the conclusion that I’m still so in love with you—which, I am by the way. I love you and I don’t think I ever really stopped. 1:05 A.M.

Babe: If you’re in a relationship or seeing someone else, please disregard all of these messages. I hope you’re doing well and I hope you’re taking good care of yourself. Well, Goodnight. 1:06 A.M.

Maybe months go by, maybe years from now And I meet someone and it's workin' out Every now and then, he can see right through 'Cause when I look at him Yeah, all I see is you

What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye? And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do? What if I never get over you? Ooh yeah What if I never get over? What if I never get closure? What if I never get back all the wasted words I told ya? What if it never gets better? What if this lasts forever and ever and ever?

As soon as you sent the last text message, you allowed a couple of tears to fall but brought your hands up to your mouth in attempts to prevent yourself from sobbing. The last thing you needed was to wake up the man who was currently sleeping in bed right next to you. You felt as if you made a complete mistake trying to get in contact with Mark—you should have just left him alone. It was you who initiated the breakup in the first place. 

You’ve stayed away for seven months; what person in their right mind would respond to your messages and want to take you back with open arms? You had to be crazy to think Mark still wanted anything to do to you—he probably deleted your messages as soon as he received them and you couldn’t blame them. If the roles were reversed and he did to you what you did to him, you would have blocked his number entirely. You placed your phone back on the nightstand and turned over to look at Minho; releasing an exhausted sigh before gliding your finger along his cheek. 

Trying out a new relationship and seeing someone new sounded like a good idea in hind sight. He was a friend of a friend’s—your friends tried to set you up with so many different guys similarly to Mark and his group of friends. They hated seeing you so sad and heartbroken yet they didn’t understand why you were still so hung up over Mark when you were the one who decided to call it quits. Minho was very soft spoken and gentle; in a way, he resembled Mark and that’s why you felt you were attracted to him.

He was quite the gentleman—he’d always ask you how you were doing, he’d ask you if you were okay with him kissing you and holding your hand and you were sure your friends must’ve told him about your past because he was very adamant on taking your relationship at your pace. Looking at him right now, lying in your bed made you realize just how quickly things were going between the two of you and you didn’t know how you felt about that. It took you a while to sleep over Mark’s apartment and he didn’t see yours until five months in to your relationship. 

However, you were beginning to believe you were rushing things because you missed having someone around all the time; you missed having the presence of someone you loved—you missed Mark. You also assumed that you were acting this way because you wanted to force yourself to like Minho so you could completely move on from Mark, but you didn’t understand why you wanted to get the thought of him out of your mind completely. 

The more time you spent with Minho, going on dates with him, calling him when you couldn’t see him; you’d find yourself picturing Mark in his place. You really missed how Mark used to treat you like you were the most important person on the planet. You missed holding him and being held by him, you missed playing video games with him and coming home from a long day of work with a table full of your favorite food. Even if you were doubting his words when he told you he was going to do better, you wondered how life would be like if you did give in to him that night. 

As much as you liked Minho—or at least felt like you did, a huge part of you believed that you were only staying with him for his sake. He was such a nice guy who genuinely seemed to care about you, but nobody was ever going to be Mark. You weren’t going to ever care or love anyone the way you did with Mark and you didn’t want to continue leading him on knowing that your heart belonged to someone else. You decided that you were going to call it a night, you didn’t expect Mark to get back to you any time soon if at all for that matter. 

After placing a gentle kiss on Minho’s shoulder blade, you curled up in to your pillow and slowly closed your eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep; your mind was too busy thinking about whether or not Mark read your messages and if he did, how he felt about hearing that you missed him and that you still loved him. Taking one last look at your phone, you felt your heart swell up as a small smile rose on your face.

Mark: I’m all yours. 1:36 A.M. 

What if I never get over? What if I never get closure? What if I never get back all the wasted words I told ya? What if it never gets better? What if this lasts forever and ever and ever?

I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do? What if I never get over you? What if I gave you (what if I gave you) everything I got? What if your love was my one and only shot? What if I end up with nothing to compare it to What if I never get over? Oh, if I never get over What if I never get over you?What if I never get over you? Oh, what if I never get over? Over you

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Two: The One With the Fanboy

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1854

Now lets do a quick background explanation of a pretty key player in this love story. Hunter Osborne-Harvey. The child of Scott and Lily. He was created out of what was believed to have been love. That's what Lily had believed at least. When Lily had found out she was pregnant, while juggling a relationship as well as working through medical school, she did not believe it at first. She had taken around eight pregnancy tests before she eventually ended up at the doctor's office...confirming her biggest fear.

She was expecting.

Scott proposed to Lily shortly after she had broken the news to him. Lily, who had been caught off guard, had accepted with no hesitation. The two had only been together for around a year and a half, and that really was not enough time for two people to decide whether or not they would settle down for the rest of their lives together. Not to mention, the two together had no money. Well...that was what she thought. Turns out, Scott's family had a rainy day fund for him, and the two seemed to be well taken care of.

Where the money came from? Lily was never sure. She supposed his family was most likely saving up for him to go to an ivy league school, but only had to pay for a simple engineering course instead. Leading their son into a successful career. So when Scott began to work full time, he seemed to be home even less. It was shortly after Hunter was born, when things began to really go sour between the two.

After work, Scott would typically go out with his buddies and come home piss drunk to struggling med student, Lily, rocking a fussy Hunter in her arms while studying for a large test the next day. Instead of offering help, he would stumble off to bed and pass out instantly. Leaving Lily to rely on her advanced mind to get her through med school. And somehow, she did it, with hard work, tears, and many nights sleeping at Genevieve's away from Scott.

As Hunter grew up, he seemed to face a few...development issues. He rarely spoke, and could be found sitting alone in his room staring out the window, a lost look in his deep brown eyes. Scott and Lily fought night after night over this particular issue, and a few dozen others. This carried on for seven years of Hunter's life. He would lay awake at night and listen to the insults that were hurled back and forth. His father would end up storming out of their small one story home, which cued a string of sobs from his mothers lips. On these nights, Hunter would crawl into bed with Lily and hold his broken mom close as she slept.

It was later uncovered that Hunter's IQ was off the charts, just like his mothers. Doctors suggested advanced work and study methods. This led into some of the most aggressive fights. Lily wanted her son to be taught as a regular kid, instead of being held at a higher level like she was. Constantly being singled out and then ridiculed if she got anything wrong. Scott, however, believed Hunter should be taught at an advanced rate, so in the future he can be worth billions.

That night got particularly heated, and Aunt Gen had to come and pick him up to stay at her apartment above her cafe. They stayed up all night and watched movies before falling asleep on the couch. The following day, his Grandpa and Grandma picked him up and said he'd be staying with them for a bit.

A week later, he was informed of his parents' separation.

And now, he lived happily with his mother 90% of the time, dreading the weekends he'd have to be at his fathers with his dad's new wife and baby girl. He was ignored most of the time, being left to fend for himself as Mary, his step-mom, and his father would go out to friends' homes. He had to care for Leila, his half-sister, with a useless babysitter.

Anytime he brought up a change of custody, Lily would shut the conversation down. Though she suffered all those years with scott, the blonde knew that he loved hunter. Even if he did not have a very good way of showing it. She knew Hunter would rather be home with her, grabbing breakfast at Aunt Gen's, ordering pizza for dinner while watching movies and shows. Playing in the backyard with joey.

Sleeping in Lily's bed when he heard her crying at night.

-----

"Who's here?" Lily wondered aloud as she walked to her and Hunter's usual spot near the kitchen at a booth.

"Okay, Hunter, if I tell you, you have to swear not to go all superhero nerd on me okay?" Genevieve grinned while sliding into the booth next to the young boy, "I know your whole obsession with these righteous men and women." With a reassuring nod from the quiet boy, Lily watched as Gen began, "The one and only Captain America is here. With his two best confidants, Falcon and Winter Soldier."

Lily's eyes immediately turned towards her son. She couldn't help but grin widely at the bright and beaming smile that lit up his face after Gen broke the news. His chocolate brown eyes sparkled as the fanboy in him boiled to the brim. But, he had promised to keep his composure. Instead, Lily watched as he pursed his lips and his grin grew bigger.

"Where are they sitting?" he managed out, attempting to take deep breaths to relax an overwhelming amount of adrenaline and nerves dancing through his body.

Gen nodded her head gently towards her left side, causing both mother and son to glance slyly to where the few people in the cafe seemed to be also sneaking glances of. And sure as shit, there the three sat. Chatting lowly over coffee and pastries. Glancing back towards her son, Lily could see the excitement growing more and more the longer he looked at his heroes. All over his room, posters of Captain America, Iron Man, Black Panther, etc, littered the walls. Action figures and collectibles stacked up on his shelves. Hardcore fanboy. It was endearing to see.

"Mom! Could I go ask for an autograph?" Hunter pleaded as he looked over at his mom and aunt, who exchanged weary looks. The two shared that telepathic conversation that all best friends can do, before turning towards the boy sat opposite of them.

"Go ahead kiddo. But do not make a scene." Lily started with a gentle smile, leaning forward with her pointer finger extended. The blonde boy wrapped his pointer finger around his mothers before sliding out of the booth and towards the men he idolized, "We just made a huge mistake, didn't we?"

"Nope. You did. He will never shut up ever again," Gen chuckled while sliding out of the booth, "usual order I'm guessing? Secret blueberry pancakes for Hunter and croissant with icing sugar for you?"

"You know me so well, and I hope he doesn't shut up. It'd be nice to hear him talk from time to time." Lily chuckled as a waitress poured her coffee into a mug.

Bringing the hot liquid to her lips, Lily’s eyes turned to glance at the group her son just went to talk to. They all had sideways smiles on as they laughed at something said. Whether it be from her son or one of them. The heartwarming smile that Lily seemed to be known for stretched across her lips as she sipped the dark liquid in the white mug she held. All of the sudden, Hunter turned and pointed back towards their table, the three men's eyes following his arm. They all raised a hand and gave a gentle wave.

This in turn, caused Lily to basically spit out her coffee. Or more so...actually spit out her coffee.

One of the men, the one she recognized as the Falcon, noticed the spillage and stood from his seat, making his way over and sliding into the booth across from the young girl. Lily's eyes blew wide as her cheeks flushed a bright red against her fair skin.

"Steve has a tendency of making women spit out their drinks, something to do with his charm or something," the dark skinned man chuckled as he cleaned the coffee off the table, "Sam Wilson. And I'm guessing you know the blonde. and the rugged robocop would be Bucky Barnes."

Bucky Barnes. Lily's eyes slid from the coffee in front of her to the other two men still putting up with her obsessed son. She seemed to catch the gaze of the long haired one, the superhero mentioned prior. Right as they locked eyes, both turned away. Lily's cheeks only heated up more as she cleared her throat.

Like said before, she wasn’t much of a talker.

"Sorry about my son, he loves you all a lot," Lily said, her voice a mere murmur as held the mug up to her lips, "Oh and uh...I'm Lily. Lily Osborne."

Sam seemed almost...shocked? by the words that left the blondes lips. As though he didn't believe a part of what she had said. Was she known among the superheroes or something? Maybe her fathers botanist studies? Or the fact a young boy was in love with superheroes? But they all seemed pretty unlikely. Most young kids liked superheroes. Especially those who fit the same archetype as Hunter.

"There is no way in hell you're that young kid's mom. You're way too young." Sam laughed softly, shaking his head.

So that was why he didn't believe her. Most people have that assumption. That they were brother and sister rather than mother and son. Lily was only thirty three, and had a youthful glow to her it seemed. Though whenever she looked in the mirror, all she saw was all of those years of hard work and sadness. The weight of being a single mother weighing down the under eye skin that was now seemingly bruised. The dull aura of her busy work schedule and stress with handling a fairly difficult ex-husband.

"Yeah, he's my son. Look's more like me than his father, luckily." Lily laughed softly, nibbling at her lips. A nervous habit. Her mother used to scold her on the daily for it, saying that the precious skin on her lips was for the kiss of someone she loved, not to be pulled open by anxiety.

"Well he's a sweet kid-” Sam stated before being interrupted by Steve and Bucky calling him, as they headed towards the door, "It was nice meeting you Lily. You've got a good kid on your hands," he continued, writing down an address and number on a napkin, "Swing him by the compound one day. I'll give him a tour."

Lily gave a simple nod goodbye as she slid the napkin into her purse, grinning as her beaming son returned to their booth, looking more vibrant than ever. He began to rave about how awesome Captain America was and how quiet the other guy was. Bucky, right. Gen slid their food down in front of them before sending lily a quick wink.

"Aunt Gen these are blueberry!"

[youcouldmakealife]

Joey, Scouts, Gabe; chin up

For the prompt: joey’s pov of the game against the canucks?

Joey’s never dreaded a game more than the one against the Canucks. Not when he was playing at maybe ten percent capacity at the end of a flu, ended up in the med room while getting lectured like crazy by the team doc about dehydration and not lying about feeling game ready, not when the Scouts were walking into a 0-3 series record on home ice and terrified of losing big in front of the fans, not when he came back with a cage after the first time he got his teeth knocked out, couldn’t stop flinching every time a stick got too close to his face.

He could be a healthy scratch, he was told they’d scratch him if he needed more time, wouldn’t even say personal reasons, would say ‘illness’ or ‘upper body injury’ or whatever, but no one would be stupid enough to buy that he just happened to be too hurt to play the first game after a picture of his dick — not to mention a picture of his hand on someone else’s dick — got splashed all over the internet. He’s not a coward. Okay, he’s totally a coward, but he doesn’t want people to think he’s one.

Joey guesses if there was one solitary silver lining in the shitshow of his life it’s that Zach leaked the pictures during a small break in play, so Joey got to have two days of hiding in his apartment with Scratch before he had to show his face to the team. Scratch sticks to him like a threatening shadow when they walk in, but apparently he doesn’t even need to, or it’s working too well or something, because the guys are being weird. Like, in a good way, Joey guesses. He thinks literally every single one of them has come up to him and said ‘we’ve got your back’, even Shithead, but they’re being super nice, which is just — not them at all. Hell, Trigger gave him a hug, and typically the only time Trigger’s willing to give or receive hugs is in the ‘hug your goalie’ line after a win.

Joey’s genuinely shaking when they’re getting their gear on, so bad he has trouble taping his socks, has to focus to stop the tremble before Scratch offers to do it for him, ends up tying his skate laces like Joey’s a kid back in Mites getting his mom or dad to tighten his skates for him. He manages eventually, but he feels about as good as he did stepping onto the ice as when he was shaking that flu. Maybe he should have taken the offer to sit this one out, but — no, he thinks he’d feel just as bad sitting in the press box, if not worse.

Joey takes a couple shots at Trigger, settles down to stretch in the spot he usually settles on home ice. He doesn’t realize how close that spot is to center until a Canuck is hovering about six feet away from him, still on the Canucks’ side, if barely. Joey scrambles up.

“Hey,” the guy says. “I’m really sorry about what happened to you. I just want you to know that none of the Canucks are going to use your sexuality against you, okay? Not tonight or ever.”

“Thanks,” Joey says cautiously. Like, that sounds nice, but it also sounds too nice. It’s one thing for Joey’s teammates to band together in support, it’s a whole other thing for opponents not to take advantage of prime chirping material, even if it’s technically not allowed. Technically meaning Joey’s heard a lot of homophobic shit on the ice in his time, and refs tend to pretend not to hear it so they don’t have to call it.

“You’re not alone in this league, you know?” the Canuck says.

“I mean, yeah,” Joey says.

“I mean,” the Canuck says, then kind of tilts his head like —

“Oh!” Joey says. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” the Canuck says. “So none of these guys are going to say anything, okay?”

“Thanks,” Joey says, more honestly this time, and Scratch appears over his shoulder as the guy skates deeper into the Canucks’ end.

“What’d he say?” Scratch says, straddling the line between hovering and lurking. “He give you shit?”

“No,” Joey says. “Just said sorry it happened and that the Canucks aren’t going to give me any shit tonight.”

“Really?” Scratch asks doubtfully, but his posture goes from ‘ready to commit murder’ to mostly neutral. “That’s nice.”

“Really,” Joey confirms. “It was.”

“Pretty sure he’s a Toronto boy,” Scratch says after a second. “Markson.”

Oh, here we go. More fodder for Scratch’s ‘Torontonians: best people alive’ monologue.

“You know the burbs don’t count,” Joey says. Which is hypocritical, perhaps, because that means his Chicago claims are B.S. too, but anything to stop Scratch’s agenda, and Scratch keeps cheating in his ‘Toronto boy’ shit by pulling in places that aren’t even close. If you have a different mayor, you don’t count.

Scratch squints at him.

Joey squints back.

“Where in T.O. are you from, Markson?” Scratch calls.

Markson skates over. “NT,” he says.

“Oh cool,” Scratch says, giving Joey a triumphant look. “The Danforth.”

“Greektown, right on,” Markson says.

Joey skates away, and Scratch, who hasn’t been off his heels since Joey’s agent broke the news, doesn’t even notice. Torontonian priorities, Joey guesses.

“What’re they talking about?” Willy asks.

“Torontonians being the best people alive, probably,” Joey says.

“Again?” Willy groans.

“I know,” Joey says.

“Hey Money,” Willy says, gives him a little elbow, this look like ‘you okay, buddy?’.

“I’m okay,” Joey says, and it isn’t true, but it’s more true than it was before Markson skated over.