#so I'll have to just call the office in general. again. and reschedule the appointment

[liebelesbe]

augh I still need to reply to the job interview email AND call my therapist to reschedule my appointment 😑😭

[auxlley]

The Ranger's Legacy - Boothill x Reader | Part 1

Genre - Slow burn, flirting, potential romcom with some serious undertones. WIP.

You leaned back in your chair, heaving a slow and weary sigh. The phone call had ended abruptly, your ever-returning client sounded like he was in shambles, his voice tired and raspy through the shoddy line. It had been roughly 3 years since his last visit, and in those 3 years, you had spent extensive time researching both the software and hardware around his complex computing system that made up his bodily autonomy.

Boothill wasn't someone to shy away from danger. He also wasn't the type to take impersonation kindly, apparently. And he would be in your office within moments if he didn't get sidetracked along the way.

You had just finished with a client, a young man with a severe case of mineral deficiency and fatigue when you heard chatter from the lobby area followed by doors slamming and the receptionist doing her best to keep the surprise visitor from making himself welcome in your office.

You sighed as the door was shoved open, a tall, seemingly slender man in a cowboy hat with ink-stained white hair stood in the doorway, the receptionist heaving from running after him.

"Put me in the bubble Doc, I need a rewire and a forkin' break after all the fun I've had to put up with. And make it hasty, yeah? My joints are achin' somethin' fierce. My dumbfork of a handgun jammed again and I can't be bothered to fix it myself. Doctors touch is magic, yeah?" Boothill grinned through sharp teeth, his gaze seemingly tender and kind even though you could see through the farce.

You gestured him to the back beyond the regular clinical area that was otherwise off-limits to other clients. You gave the receptionist an apologetic look and she nodded in understanding.

"I'll go ahead and reschedule your last appointment, they never called for a follow-up after their consultation so it wouldn't be a difficult phone call anyway." She said meekly.

"Thank you, Sandra, go ahead and close up for the day while you're at it. It's almost Happy Hour at the pub." You gave her a wink and Sandra beamed at your generosity, swift on her feet to close the door and make her way back to finish her tasks.

You turned around from the closed door, heaving a heavy sigh, and began to clean up the small area meant for regulars. Putting away the clipboard of patient notes and returning various basic med kit items to their designated shelves you tried not to think too much about the ongoing noise from the room further in. Opening a door labeled with "Off Limits to Staff and Patients" you took in the sight and crossed your arms.

Boothill sat in a chair, his hat and sache neatly placed on the side table as he was doing the initial work to disassemble his handgun, a literal firearm built into his left and right arms, a mechanical system that should be seamless if he took care of himself.

"You know, if you weren't so damn impatient and actually listened to me your body wouldn't be collapsing on itself." You said as you took over, grabbing his arm and adjusting the mechanical array of impressive technical work.

"Oh you wound me Doc. Why of course I listen to you, you're the only dang person on this shirt-stain of a planet with the intellect in both fancy doctorial business and technology with your uh, well whatever it is your title is anyway." He replied in earnest.

"I'm a general practice doctor, Boothill. And it just so happens, for your sorry ass anyway, that I used to work in the technological division of a certain organization we both choose to not acknowledge anymore. Now shut your mouth before I reset your vocal system as well."

"Oh Doc, you wouldn't do that. You're too kind to this rusty son-of-a-nice-lady. How have you been in the time since I've last been here? If I may add, your office looks like some real cow shirt."

You shot him a look without raising your head, garnering a light laugh from the Galaxy Ranger. As robotic as his appearance may be, his actions and personality were more human than some. He was still humble, if not a bit brash. There was a kindness to him beneath all the metal and bullet cases.

"Why the rush into the bubble? Didn't get enough rest in Penacony? You were there for a long while." You carefully placed the removed pistol onto the counter opposite where Boothill sat and began to look through drawers for wool and lubricant.

"I don't even know where to begin with that fork-fest. The lady who was impersonating me wound up being on the same dang team, call that a forkin' surprise, yeah? Aye, that there lube better not be generic, I ain't no simpleton."

You rolled your eyes as you uncapped the lubricant spray and doused the pistol evenly all over. "You know better than to question me Boothill, I'm the one who patches you up and cleans up your mess. And from the looks of it, you got rust building around the gears where your arm receptors patch in. Why haven't you been here sooner for maintenance? Slept like a baby in Penacony?"

Boothill sighed and leaned back in his seat, looking down at his disassembled arm. "Truth is Doc, I ain't been all that honest with ya. The Penacony trip was two years ago, whole mess that fork-fest was. But I got the dang fella who decimated my home, got the closure I needed to move on. But I ain't feel complete yet, like somethin' is missin' and I haven't found it. I've seen and done so many damn things but it ain't enough."

You sighed and sat on a stool and rolled the seat up to his side, taking his other arm and examining where the arm met the elbow. "You got your revenge that you've been so desperate to get, but you haven't thought about the after Boothill. You never think that far ahead either way."

"Oh well ain't you a smart-butt. I do have a plan."

"Yeah?"

"Fork yeah!"

"Tell me about this plan then."

"I... Well... I just-"

"For fucks sake Boothill, going around the cosmos and killing bad guys like some superhero isn't a plan!"

"Yes the fork it is!"

You dropped his arm and shot him a look. "No, it's not. You're not getting any younger Boothill. You need to move on. You need to retire, focus on preserving whatever humanity you have, and move on. The cosmos have their heroes, the new generation of Rangers are doing fine, the Nameless are doing fine."

"There are kids out there that need saving!" Boothill shouted, his hands balled into fists. "Families need help, children need homes, the forkin' IPC ain't doin' anybody any favors. We wouldn't be here if the world was such a fine and dandy place, Doc."

You knew firsthand that the topic of family and survival was a touchy subject for him. "You can't save everybody Boothill, try as you might, you'll just get yourself killed. If not from bullets then by fatigue. Whose gonna save you when you're down?"

"You, Doc." He forced a toothy grin and you couldn't help but chuckle. You took his elbow again, noting the small build-up of rust and worn-down metal where the joints connect. You've tried and failed many times to get Boothill to retire the badge, to relax and accept what life has dealt not just him, but countless others. He was more stubborn than a mule, and trying to convince him otherwise was like talking to a wall.

"You really wanna get in the bubble?" You asked him blankly.

"I got sand all in and around my joints and my wiring got stiff. I can't taste my liquor and my sense of smell is all over the place. Format me, Doc."

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to a pod-like capsule that connected to various parts of the ceiling. Its machinery and cable management were tidy, something you made sure of when Boothill came down to visit for maintenance. You took a wired tablet from the slot near the pod and began to swipe through menus, preparing the system for a routine maintenance.

He got up and began to undress the attire he typically had on, pilling it by his hat and sache before stepping inside the pod. His arms and legs slotted into their designated spots and he took a deep breath.

"I improved the system handling while you were gone. The removal process should go smoothly so you'll barely feel a thing." You spoke over the hum of the awakened capsule, its server coming alive as the pod lights flickered on and Boothill was immersed in a soft blue light.

"I sure as hell hope so, Doc." He rested his head back and closed his eyes. Four robot claws drew down from the top of the pod as the transparent door closed. You watched from outside as the four-pronged hands began to remove Boothills arms and legs, careful actions that closely mimicked your own. You heard a chuckle from the pod and glanced up at the only visible human feature Boothill had.

"I'll be damned Doc, this piece of short is smoother than last time. Dare I say better than your fancy hands!" He let out a hearty laugh that you couldn't help but smile at.

"It's been three years, I've had a lot of time to get this thing up to your bougie standards. Once your limbs are off it'll automatically get into cleaning your systems. You'll be out in less than an hour."

"The fork you callin' bougie?"

Writing is hard but Hoolay is harder. Jkjk... I had this in the drafts since June and now that 2.7 is coming up I figured I'd dabble in finding some sorta conclusion. Who knows how long this'll be, but I hope y'all like it!

[betweenthings2]

"I can-can't br-brea-breathe-"

and

“Get me out of here! Please!”

Thank you for the ask!! The prompt list is here if anyone else wants to see it =)

"I don't wanna go," Matty mumbles, rolling over and tugging the duvet up to his chin. He's not really sure what he wants to do, but he doesn't want to get up and get dressed and get in the car and go sit in his therapist's office and talk about the shitty things that have happened to him. 

"I thought it was helping," George says, sitting down and rubbing Matty's shoulder through the duvet.

"Don't want to," Matty repeats.

"You said it was helping," George tries again. "I thought you said you liked your therapist."

Matty shrugs. Therapy has been helping some and he does like his therapist well enough "Still don't wanna go."

"Alright," George agrees. "Shall I call the office and cancel your appointment?"

Matty gives another shrug, this one a little smaller.

"Love," George starts, "either you get up and go to your appointment or you let me call and cancel your appointment. I'm not sure what option three is. What do you wanna do?"

Matty isn't sure what option three is either, but  rolls back over onto his back to meet George's gaze and mumbles, "I dunno." He looks empty, like everything that makes him Matty has been emptied out.

"I think you should go," George offers, doing is best not to sound like he's telling Matty what to do or trying to force him to do something. "Even if you don't feel like talking, getting up and going might make you feel a little bit better."

"I don't want to, George."

"Yeah," George agrees. "Should I call?"

Matty shakes his head. He doesn't want George to call and say something about how he's not feeling well, make some promise about the fee for canceling so late, reschedule Matty's appointment, anything. He doesn't want George to do anything.

"You only get to no-show so many times, love," George warns.

"'m gonna get up," Matty mumbles, forcing himself to sit up. "'m gonna get up and go."

"I think that's a good choice," George says. "Do you want me to come? I'll drive and we can get lunch after?"

"Don't wanna go out."

"Do you want me to come?" George repeats.

Matty sighs, a bit defeated, and nods.

"You're allowed some support," George says. "We all need support sometimes."

"Should be able to do things myself."

"You don't have to is the point.

Matty shrugs, but he just crawls out of bed and gets dressed, unwilling to talk anymore. Mostly, it just feels pointless. He'll say something, then George will say something and then they'll go back and forth about it and George will always win, always have the last word, will always be believed over Matty because he's not the damaged one. People will always look to George whenever Matty says anything or gets even a little bit upset about anything because Matty is the one with all the problems. It's easier to just stay quiet.

Maybe he should say something to Sarah. She'd probably be able to help Matty work it out, or at the very least, help him understand why he feels like he does. Sarah is good at sorting out his thinking, better than just about anyone, except for maybe George. Maybe she's on par with George because things seem mostly a mess between the two of them these days. It's not that things between them are bad, it's that things between them are just off. Things are weird. Matty doesn't quite know why, but he's probably the reason. He's generally the problem.

George offers breakfast and coffee and a cigarette once Matty is dressed, but he declines them all, so they leave. George has to put the address of the office into his  phone for directions because he's never been there and Matty is less than helpful when it comes to directions. Still, they get to the office about fifteen minutes early. Matty is reluctant to get out of the car, but he does and slowly makes the walk into the building with George right behind him, then checks himself in and sits down to wait.

George sits down next to Matty, quiet and careful. He lets them be quiet for a moment, then asks, "Alright?"

Matty shrugs.

"Sweetheart-"

George is cut off by the receptionist calling Matty's name.

"Love you," George says instead when Matty stands.

Matty just nods and gives a small, weak smile and goes.

Sarah greets him with a warm smile and gets up to close the door behind him, saying, "Good morning, Matty. How are you?"

Matty makes himself comfortable on the couch before answering, "I, um, I'm ok, I guess."

"You guess?" Sarah asks, sitting down across Matty with her notepad.

Matty nods. "Yeah."

"Can you elaborate on that?"

"Um, I, things have been weird, I guess."

"Weird?"

Matty nods again. "With George," he clarifies. "I mean, I'm fine, right? I, physically as fine as I've ever been, and I'm sober for the first time in years, and my mental health is as good as it's been in ages, and overall, I'm fine, things are just weird."

"What do you mean by weird?"

"I don't know," Matty admits. "But I feel shit for feeling like things are weird with George because he's so good to me and he's, he's sitting in waiting room 'cause I didn't wanna get out of bed this morning, but everything just feels weird."

"Do you think that George thinks things are weird?" Sarah asks.

Matty shakes his head. "No. I think George just thinks I'm mental and if he's careful with me, then I might eventually be less mental."

"That doesn't sound like the person you've told me about."

Matty shrugs again. "Can we not talk about George? I can't talk about him for an hour and go, like, have lunch with him like I haven't been overanalyzing how he said 'good morning.'"

"What would you like to talk about then?"

Matty is quiet for a few moments, then, in a small voice, he admits, "I'm scared I'll never be normal. I'll never be able to be just, like, a regular person because I'm always going to be broken from this. People, my friends, they look at me like I'm broken and they treat me like I'm a child. 's like they don't think I can make decisions or have good ideas without checking with George to make sure I've not, like, completely lost it."

"Is being a regular person really your goal?" Sarah asks.

"I want to stop feeling like everything in my life is coming apart because I can't hold it together."

"Is it possible that people in your life look to George for any number of things because you look to George for many things?"

Matty frowns. "I know how to make my own decisions."

"You do," Sarah agrees. "But I'm wondering if you find it easier to lean on someone else for some decisions and have begun looking to George in a way that prompts other people to do the same." "He's not my keeper."

"I never said he was."

"He's not," Matty repeats. He feels small and a little bit petulant and maybe just a tiny bit like everything is too big for him, like he's forgotten how to be a person, and he looks away from Sarah and out the window to the dreary London day. At least he and the weather are on the same page, even if he can't even figure out what metaphorical book George is in.

"Let's try something else," Sarah suggests carefully. "Tell me about your morning. You said you didn't want to get out of bed, why was that?"

Matty shrugs. "Dunno. I was comfortable and warm and if I got out of bed I'd have to come here?"

"Is that so bad? Coming here?"

"Not really," Matty admits, "but I'm tired of needing a fucking professional to sort me out. As far as professionals who've tried to sort me out, I like you, but I'm tired of needing it. Billions of people think just fine for themselves. What's so wrong with me that I can't?"

"Your psyche has been wounded, Matty. It's healthy to seek someone who can help you heal that injury. You went to A&E when your arm was broken and a doctor helped it heal, this the same thing but for your mind."

"I didn't actually take myself to A&E," Matty mumbles, but it's mostly to be uncooperative. "Don't know if I'd have gotten there on my own."

"Who took you?"

"Don't know," Matty says. "Paramedics, I think?"

"You think?"

Matty nods. "I don't remember all of it, but, um, yeah, I think it was paramedics."

"You made it seem like George took you."

"George didn't get there until later. I think I tried to fight a nurse and then they called George to get me to behave."

"I think behave probably isn't the right word," Sarah suggests. "Maybe relax or feel safe or feel comfortable."

"Does it really matter?" Matty counters. "It's just another time that someone went to George because I can't get myself together. He'll get tired of it eventually. He signed up to be my partner, not my babysitter."

"The language you use to talk about yourself absolutely matters. It shapes how you think about yourself. If you continue to use negative language about yourself, you will continue to feel badly about yourself. If the roles were reversed and you'd been called to help George, what kind of language would you use?"

"George wouldn't put himself in that position," Matty says. "George isn't a junkie, he wouldn't let himself be pushed around for drugs, wouldn't let himself get so high he can't say no, wouldn't let himself be used like that."

"You can't blame yourself for being sexually assaulted," Sarah says. "It is not you fault."

"It is my fault!" Matty answers. "All of it is my fault! I put myself there and no one gives an addict free drugs out of the goodness of their heart, they always want something and they can always get something because there's nothing an addict isn't willing to give for a fix, that's how these things work, and I knew that and I did it anyway. I knew exactly what he would want and I let it happen and it wasn't sexual assault, it wasn't, it was just really bad sex that still makes me feel fucking dirty, but it wasn't that, it wasn't. It wasn't!"

Matty is on the verge of tears by the time he's done talking, and maybe a panic attack, too. Sarah doesn't say anything right away, just holds out a box of tissues. Matty takes one and wipes at his tears, then his nose before balling it up and stuffing it in the pocket of his hoodie,

"Matty," Sarah starts gently, "you-"

"Stop it!" Matty interrupts, teary and desperate. "Don't say it like that! I am not broken and I'm not stupid and I, I wasn't r-" he cuts himself off, both unwilling to say it and trying to stop himself from having a panic attack.

Sarah just nods and stays quiet, but she offers the tissues again. Matty ignores them this time and focuses on trying to catch his breath, which is getting more on more difficult with the way his brain keeps conjuring up memories he's been doing his best to bury since they happened. The memories keep coming, though and Matty pushes himself into the corner between the arm and back of the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest like that will protect him.

It doesn't and he chokes out, "I can- can't br- brea- breathe-"

"You're having a panic attack," Sarah says, getting up to go sit next to Matty on the couch. She gives him plenty of space, but continues, "You need to breath. Just in and out, nice and slow, ok?"

"Can't."

"You can. You're ok, you're safe, and no one is going to hurt you. All you need to do is breathe. You can do that. You're safe."

Sarah isn't quite as comforting as George is, but she does well enough and eventually, Matty catches his breath well enough, even though he's still shaky and kind of terrified.

"There you go," Sarah says when Matty finally takes a deep, shaky breath. "You're-"

"I wanna go home," Matty interrupts. "Can I go home? Please?"

"We still have a few minutes. I'd like to talk about-"

"Next week," Matty cuts in again. "Please. I wanna go home."

"Alright," Sarah agrees, but Matty can hear the reluctance she's trying to hide. She gets up and opens the door for him and as he goes, adds, "I'll see you next week."

Privately, Matty kind of never wants to see her again, but he's not going to say that because she's a good therapist and he doesn't want to explain everything that's wrong with him to another stranger, so he just nods and makes his way down the hall.

George stands when he sees Matty come down the hall, but he looks concerned and, when Matty is close, says, "I thought you had a few more minutes."

"Got done early," Matty mumbles, hoping that will take the hint and ask about it later.

"You've been crying," George counters. 

"Not now, George," Matty begs before George say anything more. "Just," he pauses, "get me out of here! Please!"

"Ok," George agrees. "Let's go home."

[whitmerule]

today's 'biting my tongue then patiently explaining' moments with clients

A:

client rings up: can I make an appointment to bring my cavoodle puppy in to have his feet tidied up a bit and have the hair around his eyes trimmed back? me (audibly working on another dog in the background of phone call): You don't need an appointment for that! I'm happy to do that as a walk-in, because that won't take more than ten minutes. I can use that time to tidy those things up for you and introduce him to the salon so his future grooms are less stressful, come in any time today before 4:30!

client: turns up with puppy me: puts the current dog I'm working on in crate, visibly talks to the other dog who is currently here me: spends ten minutes working with their puppy client: asks about prices for grooming in general me: explains pricing system client: yes I think I'd like a full groom for him please me: great, once I'm done with him here we can look at the calendar and book him in for his first puppy groom client: ... you mean you can't groom him right now? me: .... [internally, looks at crates with other dogs that I'm working on, looks at whiteboard with all the dogs booked in for the next week marked on it, looks into the camera like I'm on the office] me: .......... [remembers the multiple phone calls I take most days where caller assumes they could just get their dog groomed today or tomorrow and are vaguely affronted that I'm booked out six weeks in advance] me, brightly: Not right now, but let's look at the calendar and see when I might be able to squeeze in an appointment.

(further dog groomer grumbling below the cut)

B:

me, ringing client 10 minutes after their appointment should have started and getting message bank: ... hope all's well, please let me know ASAP if you're still planning on making this appointment, jsyk it's a 90 minute slot so I can't promise a completed groom if you're more than 15 minutes late, and if you're 30 minutes late we'll have to reschedule client: turns up 28 minutes late me: well, it's going to have to be just a bath and tidy, not a full groom doggo: is matted me: 😩 this is not going to be pretty, I will have to shave out the mats and won't have time to blend the shaved patches into the rest of the coat her: ??? why me: ... also there's a late fee (because I say so that's why)

me, after running 25 minutes into my next dog's slot to try to make this poor girl more comfortable: marks groom as complete, sends text to owner me, 90 minutes later: picks up phone to check?? that owner got text?? [your dog is still here and is barking shrilly and anxiously because she is not crate-trained, she has now been here for almost four hours pls get your dog I am not doggy daycare I don't have time to take her out to poop or play] owner: oh I'll be there in a while, gotta pick my daughter up from school, bye! me: [......... ok well if she has a toilet accident and steps in it I'm not going to bathe her again for your convenience, I have two other dogs I'm working on now]

C:

owner and dog I've never met before: arrive me, who's running well behind on this matted collie thanks to above dog: [oh thank goodness you're a smooth-haired jack russell mutt you will take like ten minutes then i can let you cage dry] doggo: is good doggo! is a bit worried! is actually very unsure of what's going on and also doesn't like other dogs [ABOVE DOG IS STILL BARKING IN CRATE] but is happy to be comforted and cared for! is even ok for nails! me, when owner picks terrier up: just so you know, she was very good and communicative but a bit anxious, especially when other dog was barking owner: oh yes, she hates other dogs and also we just picked her up from the boarding kennel two hours ago so she hasn't even been home yet, k thx bye! :D me: [... WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO YOUR DOG]

me: collie, you and I are the only sensible people in this room collie: 👀 me: and I'm not too sure about me collie: (now that you are not brushing my tail you are my bestest friend 😌)

[regular-lord-reckoner]

lol so back in november i called my gyn's office to make an appointment because for one, i'm overdue for an exam anyway but for two, because i wanted to at least ask about possibly getting an ablation or just...something, right?

and they were really booked out, it was either i came in on my birthday or now in februrary so my dumb ass said let's do februrary

okay cool great awesome

i even did the math on my last period just to make sure it wasn't going to interfere with this appointment and based on my calculations it shouldn't have or else i would have called then to try to change it

well...my appointment is tomorrow

do you wanna guess, do you just wanna take a fucking guess, as to what decided to show up today a whole fucking week early?!?!

my period!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so i called to reschedule and naturally the next appointment won't be until almost june so that's.......good. that's great!! i love that!!

i've just spent the past half hour just sobbing in rage

i know it's a really stupid thing to cry over but i can't help it, i just feel so defeated right now

and mad at myself, because this should have been something i had figured out a long time ago, y'know? i shouldn't be turning 34 this year and be trying to get a handle on this, i should have at least spent my 20s cycling through every birth control pill on earth until i found one that doesn't negate my other medicine or gotten an iud or just...something

and now that it seems like my periods (which already weren't great, but aren't the worst i've ever heard of) are starting to get wonky it's like, "oh well, hope you can wait a few more months!!"

i'm also beyond worried now that it'll come may and it'll be the same fucking thing because at this point i apparently can't just track my days and be confident that i'm in the clear !!

my back was absolutely killing me last week and i can already tell this is going to be one of the bad mental health ones and i just want this shit to stop. just from the excessive bleeding alone i don't know why i've put up with this for as long as i have, but i'm over it

here again, though...it's my own fault. i made the decision at one point that i wasn't going to invest in myself and now here we are. now that i want to it's obviously not just going to happen all at once

i guess i'll just wait a few more months and hopefully by then it'll be okay

doesn't help that in general i've been feeling like, "welp, i've dug myself into a hole i'm never getting out of!" because it's really just hitting me how much of my own time i've wasted and how many more things i could have done for myself or at least better decisions i could have made but nothing i can really do about it now i guess

any of it

just gotta live with it and everything else!!

anyway hope if you're reading this that your day is going well and you get some good news today.