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scarletqueenx · 4 months ago

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chapter two - i miss you, i’m sorry

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

Dean knew, from the state they had found you, that you were in serious condition. So waiting for the doctors to update them on your state was getting frustrating.

He couldn't ask about your either, as he wasn't your family. And if he showed his real concern, Henry and Peter would start to ask questions. Sam was trying to distract him, telling him about possible cases, but Dean was barely listening. He hadn't even been able to kill whoever or whatever had done this to his ex-girlfriend.

"Holloway?" The doctor's voice pronouncing your last name brought him out of his thoughts.

Henry quickly stood up, while Peter closed the comic book in his hands to pay attention to the doctor's explanation. Sam and Dean remained seated, listening closely.

"Yeah. Hi. It's me, I'm her father." Henry answered, approaching the doctor. "Is she okay?"

"Mr. Holloway. I'm doctor Ross." The man introduced himself, shaking his hand. "I am the one who took care of her." He explained. Henry nodded in silence. "She had a head concussion. But the CT came back negative. There is no sign of brain damage. She also has a couple of broken ribs and lost a lot of blood, so we've had to give her some transfusions. All of that said, we think she is going to be fine." Henry sighed with relief, while Dean felt how his breathing became normal again. Beside him, Peter could sense his relief, squinting his eyes at him in confusion. "She is still asleep. We're waiting for her to wake up, hopefully it won't be long. Everything seems normal. She's been lucky."

"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much." Henry said. "When will we be able to see her?"

"I will have a nurse take you. Although only family is allowed at the moment."

Dean was afraid he would say that, but a part of him already knew. He wanted to see you, but he also knew he had no right to.

"Guys, I haven't had a chance to thank you yet." Dean and Sam stood as Henry approached them. "I am very grateful that you found her. We both are, aren't we, Peter?"

"Yeah, of course." He nodded. Sam gave him a little smile. "Although I'm actually the one who found her."

"Peter."

"What? It's true."

"We're just happy she's okay." Sam interrupted their little discussion. Feeling secretly jealous of the father-son relationship the two seemed to have.

Henry smiled at him in appreciation.

"Do you think maybe we could see her?" Dean asked, drawing the man's attention. "To know what she can tell us about the thing that attacked her?" He quickly clarified.

"I'm sure she'll want to hunt it down herself." Henry answered.

"No. Yeah. Of course. But she's hurt, and that thing can still hurt people."

"Yeah, you're right." He admitted, thoughtfully. "When she wakes up I'll ask her. I'm sure she would like to thank you too."

"Thanks."

"In the meantime, you can go back to our house." Henry declared, pulling the keys out of his jacket and holding them out to Dean, who looked at them in confusion. "If she tells me anything I will let you know. It's late, you should rest."

His concern for them was rare for the Winchester brothers. Although deep down they appreciated it.

"You should take Peter with you. If it's no problem."

"No. It's okay." Dean answered.

"Wait, wait, wait." The boy exclaimed, looking up at his father. "No. I want to see her."

"Peter, it's late." He answered. "And you have school tomorrow."

"Do you seriously think I'm going to class after today?" He asked in disbelief. "She needs me by her side."

"She is in good hands." His father assured him, crouching down to be at his level. "The doctors will take care of her. I will take care of her."

"What if that thing comes after me?" He then asked.

"I doubt it. But if that's the case, that's what they're here for, isn't it? To hunt it down." He said, pointing to the Winchester brothers.

"Because they've been doing so well so far." He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, cut the attitude." His father requested, frustrated. "They've come here to help without expecting anything in return. Be a little nice to them, okay? "

"Whatever."

Henry rose back up, giving Dean and Sam an apologetic look.

"Hey, kid." Dean called him. "How about a pizza? We can stop and get some on the way back to your house."

Peter narrowed his eyes at him.

"You're not buying me off with food. I'm not that easy." He assured him.

"Unlike you, Dean." Sam muttered with amusement.

"Shut up." He answered, but Sam keeps an amused smile on his lips.

"All right. I'll go with you." Peter finally accepted with a sigh. "But I won't go to class tomorrow. I want to be with her." He looked back up to his father.

"We'll talk about it later." He answered him. "Thanks guys."

"Yeah, no problem."

Peter didn't went to school the next day. When he woke up, his father still hadn't come home. Henry had spent the night in the hospital, in an uncomfortable chair next to your bed, waiting for you to wake up.

That morning Dean had been the first to get up after sleeping only a few hours. As the younger Holloway went into their home kitchen, Sam was reading on his computer looking for possible cases for him and his brother. Meanwhile, Dean was reading your hunting journal looking for any clues about the man who had kidnapped you and Kaila.

"If it was a demon it will be gone by now." Sam said, looking up at his brother.

"Unless he's still hell-bent on following her." Dean answered. "If we find him, we could finish him off."

"You can't kill a demon." Peter's voice drew the attention of both brothers as their gazes traveled to the kitchen doorway.

Looking at him, Dean took a sip of his coffee cup before answering his statement. "Yes, you can. If you have the right weapon."

"Like what? The Colt?" Peter asked, frowning.

"You know about the Colt?"

"My dad wrote about it in one of his books." He shrugged his shoulders as he walked toward the fridge to pull out a carton of milk. "He thinks I don't pay attention, but I do."

Sam and Dean shared a look.

Walking past Dean, Peter grabbed your diary from the counter and a box of cereal from the nearest cupboard before sitting down next to Sam.

"I was reading that, you know?" Dean looked at him in disbelief.

"It's private." Peter said, fixing a bowl of cereal. "Read a newspaper. Or a book. There's plenty of them on every shelf in this house."

"It's a hunting journal. There's nothing private about it."

Peter squinted silently, watching him closely for a few seconds. Dean turned to his brother, confused.

"You know, my sister knew a Dean once." Peter then said, gaining back the attention of both brothers.

"She did?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." He answered with a nod, looking down at his bowl of cereal. "He was a jerk. Well, I never met him, but he dumped her in a motel near Chicago. He never called or gave any explanation. "

"Yeah, that sounds like a jerk." Sam whispered, turning his attention back to the computer in front of him as he earned an annoyed look from his brother.

"Sharing a name with him doesn't help me like you." Peter admitted, pretending not to notice that little interaction between the two of them.

"Maybe he had a reason for leaving." Dean said, looking back at him.

"Maybe." Peter repeated, staring straight into his eyes.

Dean gulped harshly at his watchful gaze, feeling as if the boy could see right through him.

"You know." He noted after a few seconds, not taking his eyes off him. "You've known since we got here, haven't you?"

Sam turned his head to look at the boy.

"I know my sister like the back of my hand. I know where she keeps everything. Of course I knew." Peter answered, placing on the counter one of the photos you had saved from your time with Dean. "So, what exactly are you doing here? Trying to make up for what an idiot you were?"

Dean sighed, taking the photo in his fingers to look at it carefully.

"Bobby sent us here. I didn't know she was the one we had to look for until we got here." He explained. "I was trying to protect her, you know? When I left."

"You don't have to give me any explanations. Although leaving in the middle of the night seems like something an asshole would do."

Dean didn't know how to answer that, and he was thankful he didn't have to when the phone started ringing. Sam was the one who answered the call, getting up and approaching the phone placed on one of the kitchen walls. Peter looked at him with interest, hoping it was news from his sister.

"It was Henry." He announced, as he hung up the phone. "She woke up."

"Great. I'll wait for you in the car. Be quick or I'll go alone." Peter exclaimed, rising to his feet and leaving the kitchen in a matter of seconds.

"Don't... touch my car." Dean warned him, leaving the coffee mug on the counter as he followed him.

Sam smiled in amusement, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Dean could feel your eyes on him as he enter the hospital room after his brother. You didn't seem surprise or confuse to see him there, which funny enough made him more surprise and confuse.

"My father said you saved me." You smiled politely, shifting your gaze to Sam.

"I wouldn't say that much." He answered. "We couldn't finish the guy off, he left pretty quickly. We didn't even saw him."

"It's okay. I think I scared him."

Your response brought a smile to Sam's face. While Dean didn't know how to act now that he stood in front of you.

"I'm glad you're better." Sam said. "I'm...

"Sammy." Your completed, looking at him fondly. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Right." He nodded. "So have I, about you."

Your gaze then turned back to Dean, whose eyes had been locked on you since he had enter the room. A sense of familiarity filled you as your eyes finally met. Part of your was still angry at him for leaving without explanation, another wanted to hug him and tell him how much you had missed him. Dean felt an ache in his chest, as if this meeting was just the beginning of another goodbye.

"I should... leave you two alone." Sam's voice brought you back to reality, reminding both of you that he was still in the room. "It's good to meet you."

"Likewise." You responded with a kind smile.

As Sam left the room a heavy silence settled between Dean and you. His eyes had drifted away from your, looking everywhere and nowhere in particular. But now it was you who couldn't stop staring at him, trying to read his body language.

"I should have known." You were the one to break the silence. Dean's eyes fell on your with a sense of confusion.

"What?"

"That you were a hunter." You clarified with a nervous smile peeking through your lips. "It was pretty obvious now that I think about it."

"That you were wasn't." He admitted, feeling slightly less nervous in your presence. "I really believed the whole 'art student traveling the country' thing."

"That wasn't entirely a lie." Your assured. "I was an art student, but that's not why I was there."

Dean nodded slightly, his eyes dropping to the floor before he spoke again. "Listen, I'm sorry... I left the way I did. I really thought it was for the best."

"For me or for you?"

"You know how this job works. If anything had happened to you... it would have been because of me. I couldn't have that."

"Yes, I understand." You nodded with a slight tone of bitterness in your voice. "But you could have said goodbye, don't you think?" Dean opened his mouth to answer, but you were quick to cut him off. "It doesn't matter now, Dean. I'm over it."

"Right." His voice came out as a whisper. "I'm glad you're okay." You looked away from him, feeling that same pain you had felt when you had woke up that morning years ago without him by your side and no explanation. "I'm... I'm sorry."

As quickly as Dean left the hospital room Sam approached him, following him down the hallway.

"Did you tell her?" He asked him.

"Tell her what, Sammy?"

"Are you kidding? You know what."

"Why would I do that?" He asked, not bothering to look at him.

"Oh, I don't know. Because you've been wanting to call her for months." Sam shrugged. Dean stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at him. "Yeah, I pay attention too. You think I haven't seen you looking at her number in your phone? Well, I have. You want to tell her."

"No, I don't." He assured. "Why would I what to? Tell her I was an idiot back then, that I don't want to leave her again, but then do that exactly in a few months? No, thank you. She doesn't deserve that."

"She deserves the truth."

"Well, I was never good at giving her what she deserves. I'm back to being the jerk who leaves without explanation. I can live with that." He declared, turning away from his brother.

"Dean, you're dying. It's not the same..." Sam insisted, but Dean had already walked away far enough not to hear him.

"He is dying?" Peter's voice caused Sam to turn around quickly.

"What?" He frowned. "It's complicated."

"Listen, I don't even like him." He admitted. "But I know my sister and she loves him, I think. At least she deserves an explanation."

"I know she does. But I'm not the one who should give it to her."

"She's always wanted to get away from here, you know? To travel. She did a job once near Chicago. The only one she's ever done outside of San Francisco. That's where she met Dean." He explained as Sam listened carefully. "You guys do that, you travel around hunting monsters. I think she'd like something like that."

It wasn't hard for Sam to understand what Peter was asking. And the idea of you traveling with them didn't bother him at all. Part of him hoped that you wanted to help Dean as much as he.

"You know that would mean you may not see her for a long time."

"I don't care. I want her to be happy."

One thing that neither Peter nor Dean nor Sam knew was that you already knew about the deal Dean had made to save his brothers life. You knew Dean had little time left before he would be sent to hell. That demon had told you everything, with the sole purpose of hurting you. Because that's what that demon had been doing since you turned 10.

Your battle with that demon was yours alone. That was why you had lied to the Winchester brothers when they had asked you about your attacker. And it was also one of the reasons why going with them and leaving San Francisco seemed like the best idea. So you could hunt him down.

Except for the fact that it would mean spending a significant amount of time with Dean.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

You left the hospital the following day. You had to rest and take some medicine, but the injuries weren't too serious and your ribs would heal on their own. Besides, you were already used to the bruises.

When you and your father arrived at the house, the Winchester brothers were still there. Dean wanted to leave as soon as possible, but Sam had insisted on waiting for you to return. So while Dean was gathering his things, Sam was with Peter. At the younger Winchester's request, the boy was showing him some of the books on supernatural history that his father stored.

Their conversation got interrupted when the curly-haired blond rushed into your arms, happy to have you back home. A groan of pain left the your lips at the jolt, but that didn't stop a loving smile from appearing on your lips.

Dean heard you from upstairs, but he made no effort to join you. Minutes later, he was too focused on his own thoughts to notice your presence in the doorway of the room where he and his brother had stayed over those last couple of nights.

"A deal with a demon, Dean, really?" He turned around at the sound of your voice, meeting your gaze.

"How did you...? Did Sammy tell you?"

"No. He didn't tell me anything." You quickly assured, which only made him more confused. "I lied before. When he asked me about the man who'd attacked me and kidnapped Kaila." You admitted, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds. Dean watched you closely, listening to your words. "I lied. I did knew him. Not with that face, though. He's a demon I tried to hunt down a few months ago. I didn't succeed and since then he's been after me. He told me about it. Somehow he knew about... us. And he wanted to hurt me."

"So you already knew I was a hunter."

"Well, he wasn't the one I wanted to hear it from. But yeah, he told me." You nodded, looking up at him. "Why'd you do it, Dean?"

"Sammy was dead. I didn't have a choice." His response surprised you. Although it was the only logical reason why anyone would make such a deal. "You would have done the same thing for Peter."

He was right and you knew it. But that didn't stop your heart from shuddering at the mere thought of losing Dean again. After just a few exchanges of words and glances, you felt once again so connected to him that the thought of losing him hurt just as much as the first time.

"They really only gave you a year?" You turned to look at him once again as he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed. Dean sighed and nodded. "How long do you have left?"

"A few months." He answered. "And if I try to find a way around it, they'll kill Sam."

"Is that why you came here?" You asked with a frown. "You wanted to apologize before it was to late?"

A sigh left Dean's lips as he turned to look back at you. "I've wanted to apologize from the moment I stepped foot out of that motel room. I cared about you too much. I didn't want you to get hurt."

You didn't know whether to believe him. The last time Dean had said something like that to you it had ended with you waking up in an empty room. But at that very moment, looking into his eyes, you knew he was being completely honest.

"I forgive you, Dean."

"You're just saying that out of pity." He said, turning his gaze away.

"No, I'm not." You assured him, gaining enough courage to take his hand in your. That gesture made Dean flinch, but the familiarity of your touch quickly put him at ease. "That's not the reason. I cared about you too. I still do."

"I don't want to drag you into this."

"You're not. I want to help." You said. "I may not be able to break the deal, but you guys can help me kill this demon that's after me. Peter told me about the Colt. And if you're gonna die, I want to spend whatever time you have left with you. That's of course if you wan-"

"I don't know..." He cut you off, rising to his feet.

"Come on, Dean." You insisted. "We can help each other. Or are you gonna leave Sam just like that?" Dean remained silent, pacing up and down the room. "You were right when you said I'd like him. And if he were Peter... I wouldn't want him to be alone. Plus, I might be able to find a way..."

"You're not going to look for anything." He interrupted you. "I told you, if I try to find a way around it, Sam dies."

"All right." You sighed. "I won't do anything. But..."

"You're won't take 'no' for an answer, are you?" You shook your head. "We leave in 20 minutes." He then said, making you smile.

But, before you could go anywhere with the Winchester brothers, you had to convince your father. Despite being a grown woman of twenty-four, you didn't want to leave without talking to him. You would rather leave things on good terms and discuss the situation.

You knew your father wouldn't be thrilled with the idea, but you had always been good at getting what you wanted from him. Henry also knew you could take care of yourself.

What really worried you was leaving him and your brother alone. Henry was no hunter, he could barely shoot a gun. And even though you had trained Peter to defend himself and they both knew enough about supernatural creatures, you were still worried about leaving them.

"You're not going with them." He answered as he closes his office door.

"Why not? I'll find-"

"It's dangerous." He said, cutting you off.

"I wouldn't hunt alone anymore. And I'd help more people than here." You answered, watching as he walked around the desk to stand in front of you.

"You're hurt." He noted.

"I'll stay out of the fight for a while. I can do research."

"I don't know..."

"I'm going to find that demon, dad." You stated. "They have the Colt, I'll be able to kill him."

"If there's any bullets left. They could have used them all."

"They haven't."

"I hope you're right." He sighed, sitting down. "But I don't want you to put yourself in danger again for this revenge."

"It's more than that and you know it." You answered, sitting in front of him. "I'm doing this to protect us. All of us."

"I know." He whispered, watching you closely. "You won't listen to me, would you?"

"I've never been good at it." You shrugged with an amused smile on your lips.

"No. Neither you or your brother." He sighed. "You two are just like your mother."

"I'll call every day." You promised him.

"You better." He said. "I love you."

"I love you too." You smiled, standing up. "I'll go get my stuff."

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Sam was glad to hear that you would be joining them from now on. Part of him hoped you could help him save his brother. Another part of him was just relieved that if Dean finally ended up in hell, he would no longer be completely alone.

He liked you. Without hardly knowing you, he could already see what had made his brother fall in love with you. Aside from being beautiful, you seemed to be a sweet, caring, strong and intelligent person. He honestly couldn't wait to get to know you more.

"Call me anytime, for anything. Seriously, Peter, anytime." You said to your brother as you crouched down in front of him.

"I will. Don't worry about it." He answered, his eyes traveling behind you, where he could see the Winchester brothers leaning against the car, waiting for you. "I've packed a couple of comics in there, in case you get bored and so you don't forget me." He said, handing you a backpack.

"As if I could." You smiled.

"Dad has also put a gift in there. I think it was something from Mom." You looked down at the backpack.

"Would you thank him for me?" You asked, trying not to show the sadness in your voice. Peter nodded.

"Sure."

You nodded slightly, looking back at Sam and Dean.

"Remember, salt, holy water and silver knife under the bed." You said, looking up again at your little brother. "You have the key to my guns and you know where to hide."

"Relax. I've got it." He assured you, as he had already heard you say that just a few minutes before.

"Okay." You whispered.

"We'll be all right."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You nodded. "I know."

"I'll miss you." He said, wrapping his arms around you.

"I'll miss you too, buddy." You smiled, hugging him back. "I love you."

"Love you too."

You had never spent that much time apart from your brother. Peter was like a son to you. Sure, Henry was a loving and caring father, but he was also a very busy one. You had always felt like a mother to him. Every time he had a nightmare, Peter would appear in your bed. Every time something exciting happened to him at school, you were the one he told. You just hoped that the distance wouldn't break the bond between you two.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you broke away from the hug, getting to your feet to join Dean and Sam in the car.

"Ready?" Dean asked as he saw you approaching him.

"Yup." You nodded.

"All right. The back seats are all yours. You won't be driving anytime soon, so make yourself comfortable." He said, opening the driver's door.

You frowned as your hand gripped the door handle. "Why not?"

Dean looked back at you. "Remember the last time I gave you Baby's keys? I won't make the same mistake."

"I've learned since then, you know." You answered. Dean raised his eyebrows, giving you a serious look. "Fine." You sighed, getting inside the car.

Imitating your action, Dean got behind the wheel. His eyes taking one last glance at Peter, who was waving goodbye to you.

"Come on, Dean, stop frowning." You leaned over the back of the front seats, resting your arms on it and placing your head between both brothers. "We might make a good team." You smiled, before slightly nudging the youngest's shoulder. "Right, Sammy?"

Normally Sam wouldn't let anyone besides his brother use that nickname, but he liked the way it sounded when you said it. So with an amused smile he turned to Dean.

"Yeah." He replied, receiving a not-so-amused look from him.

"Is the rule still the same?" You asked, gaining his attention back as he started the car.

"What rule?"

"You know 'driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole'"

"Right." He nodded.

"Well I'm not riding shotgun and I've got some pretty good cassette tapes here." You informed, looking inside the backpack your brother had given you.

"You're not the driver either." He pointed out.

"Come on, Dean." You insisted. Sam smiled in amusement, looking over at his brother. "I've got good taste in music. You said it yourself."

"I must have been drunk."

"Very funny." You rolled your eyes. "But, seriously, we can't listen to the same four albums all the time."

"I've been telling him that for years." Sam commented.

"Maybe on the next stop."

"Really?" They both looked at him with surprise. You with a gleam of hope in your eyes while Sam did with disbelief.

"I said maybe."

"I take that as a yes." You smiled, leaning against the back the seat.

Keep Reading: Chapter 3

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @lmhf1 @mochminnie @helo1281917 @barnes70stark @slyregg

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dragon-kazansky · 2 years ago

Text

His Little Dragon

Doc Holliday x OC

Dedicated to @callsignscupcake

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Doctor John Holliday hasn't seen his darling Little Dragon for many years. Once as thick as thieves, they were quite the pair, but that long since ended when he left. Now, with opportunity blooming in Tombstone, it would seem they have a second chance at the love they lost. However, a threat looms over the town, and if he wants his Dragon back, he has to win the heart of little Baylie too. Nothing is ever easy.

Word count: 1.7k

Chapter Two - Working hard

♡♡♡

Rachael returns to the hotel room. Baylie was waiting on the bed, exactly where she had been when Rachael left. She chuckles when she sees her darling girl.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting, sweetie."

"No, mama. Did you get it?" Baylie asks, looking up at Rachael.

"I did. I'll start tomorrow. For now, we should go eat. You must be hungry after our long journey." Rachael holds out her hand. Baylie slides off the bed and takes it.

"Yes, mama."

The pair leave the hotel and into town. There was a decent place to eat not too far away, so Rachael took Baylie there. It was unlikely there would be any trouble there, so she could rest easy knowing Baylie could eat in peace.

Baylie chooses the table and Rachael orders them something. The pair sit down.

"Are we going to live here?" Baylie asks.

Rachael looks at the girl. "I'm not sure yet, honey. But I'm certain I can make enough money here for us to settle down wherever. I just have to work really hard for us."

Baylie smiles brightly at her mama.

"Okay, mama."

Food is put onto the table and the two of them dig in. Baylie remains her bright self as they eat their food. When they're done Rachael stacks the plates in the middle of the table and let's Baylie tell a tale of what she saw from the hotel window while she was gone. It sounds like Tombstone is quite a town.

Just as Rachael gets up for the to head back, a voice, different than before, calls out. It's another familiar voice, and it made sense to Rachael that if Wyatt was in town, so were his brothers.

"A sight for sore eyes!"

Rachael looks up and smiles at the sight of Vergil Earp. She chuckles softly as he comes over to greet her.

"Vergil. I suppose Morgan is in town too? Wyatt has already made his appearance."

Vergil chuckles. "That he is. What a strange coincidence for everyone to be here at the same time. You know, Doc's in town too."

"So I hear."

"Mama, who is he?" Baylie asks, looking up at the tall gentleman in front of her mama.

"Oh Baylie, this is Vergil Earp, and old friend of mine."

Vergil tips his hat to Baylie.

"Evening, little miss."

Baylie smiles up at him.

"Hello!" She greets.

"This is my daughter, Baylie," Rachael introduces.

"Daughter?" Vergil looks at Rachael with a questioning gaze.

"Yes," Rachael can tell instantly what he's thinking. "Not by blood, mind you. She needed help and I was there."

"I see." Vergil looks back at Baylie. "A pleasure, little miss."

Baylie giggles. She seems to like being called that. You chuckle at her bashful smile.

"It's good to see you Vergil, but we must be getting back to our room now."

"Allow me to escort you?" He offers.

"Won't your wife be missing you?" She smiles.

"She can miss me for a moment longer. I haven't seen you in years."

Rachael chuckles and accepts Vergil's offer. Baylie holds onto Rachael's hand as they walk with Vergil back to the hotel. All the while, the two adults catch up, Baylie listens in.

"How have you been, Rachael?" Vergil asks.

"Okay. I've been... roaming."

"All this time?"

"Mmhm. It hasn't been easy. Baylie has been with me nearly a year now. She's all I got. I need to settle down Vergil, it ain't no life constantly moving on the road, not with a young girl. I'm to here to make money for a home. Somewhere we can live peacefully and enjoy our life."

Vergil nods his head quietly.

"You boys been busy? What are you doing in Tombstone anyway?"

"Wyatt not tell ya?"

"He mentioned claiming a fortune. You fellas living here?" She asks him.

"We are. We have our own little homes too. Life is good here, you will like it too."

"I'm not sure we are settling here, just making my money here," Rachael explains.

"I understand."

Vergil stops with her outside of the hotel and they turn to face each other. He smiles at her fondly.

"You plannin' on seeing the Doc?" He asks.

"Not planning to. I do quite well blending into crowds, Vergil. He doesn't need to know I'm here."

"You don't even want to see him?"

Rachael sighs. "I'm not sure my heart could handle it. When you love someone with your entire being, and then discover they don't want what you want, it's hard. I would have stayed with him forever if I knew he loved me the same."

Vergil considers her quietly.

"Enough of that. Np more talk of Doc. Perhaps I'll see you around, Vergil."

"You know," he starts before you can leave his side, "even in a crowded room that man would find you. Tombstone isn't as big as it feels. I'm just saying."

"Your words are noted. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Little miss," he bows head once at Baylie and then takes his leave. Rachael follows him with her eyes and then takes Baylie's hand again, heading inside.

Once in the room, Baylie climbs onto the bed and turns to her mama.

"Who is Doc?" She asks.

Rachael wipes her hands on her skirt as she looks up at Baylie. Her heart is racing in her chest, but Baylie doesn't realise that.

"He's... an old friend."

"Did he hurt you?" She asks.

"Kinda. You should rest, darlin'. Big day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Am I coming with you?" She asks.

"That's the idea, sweetpea. You have to stay close though," Rachael tells her.

"I know, mama."

Rachael leans down to give Baylie a kiss on the head before helping her remove her boots. She tucks Baylie into bed and kisses her head once more. Baylie gets comfy while her mama dresses down for bed. They had very few belongings with them, so they would to go shopping soon.

The pair look at each other with a smile.

"Goodnight, Baylie."

"Night, mama!"

Rachael turns the light out and they go to sleep.

Come morning, the pair are up bright and early. Rachael makes sure Baylie eats before they take the horse round to the saloon. The Oriental was high end, but clearly for the rowdy crowd. The kind who stay up till sunrise gambling their money away. Luckily for Rachael, it was quiet during the day.

Billy stands outside with a wagon.

"Decent horse," he comments.

"The best we got for now. The wagon won't be a problem."

Billy nods silently as he helps get the horse on the wagon. When it's all been done and checked, Rachael helps Baylie onto the wagon bench and then climbs on too. Billy hands over the job note and gives Rachael a vague direction of where to go. She nods and they head off.

As long as Rachael delivered and picked up before the day was out, she would be paid in full for the day. She was in no hurry to get the job immediately and rode on so Baylie may at least get a good look of the town.

Baylie was fascinated by Tombstone. There was life all around her. Riding past families makes Rachael smile. If families can settle here, maybe she could. All she wanted was the best for Baylie.

They reach the first stop and Rachael hops off, telling Baylie to sit and wait. The young girl does as she's told and Rachael walks around to the wagon to take it the first delivery.

While Rachael handles business, Baylie looks around her. There was so much to look at and admire, but her eyes are drawn to a couple of gentlemen talking in the road down the adjacent street.

They're both dressed finely, and Baylie can't help thinking one of them resembles Vergil who she met last night. The other is wearing a bit of colour in his outfit, that's what catches Baylie's eye.

Her attention is broken from the two men as Rachael reappears and climbs back onto the wagon. She forgets about the men as they ride on.

All the jobs are completed a little after noon and Rachael returns the wagon to The Oriental. She helps Baylie back onto the ground and heads inside to fetch her pay.

"I hear it's going to be a quite a game tonight," Cupcake says, following Billy around the bar.

"It always is when he's playin'."

Rachael catches Billy's eye and hands over her completed list. Billy thanks her and takes it, counting up her pay and handing it over.

"Your goods are in the wagon."

"Thank you. I'll have more errands in a couple of days."

"Very well, this will do us just nicely," Rachael tucks the money away safely.

"Rachael, won't you swing by tonight. A lot of interesting characters will be in tonight. You won't want to miss it," Cupcake states, leaning over toward her.

"No thank you, Cupcake."

"Oh please!"

"I shall be spending the evening with my daughter."

Cupcake takes not of the young girl beside her.

"Well, hello! You'll have to excuse me, I didn't see you there."

Baylie chuckles as she looks up at Cupcake. The lady was dressed in her best clothes, a hat was pinned into her hair and she held a closed fan in her hand.

"I'm Baylie!"

They all chuckle, even Billy who usually has a stick up his backside.

Rachael and Baylie bid them a good day and take their leave. Rachael helps Baylie onto the horse, named Whiskey by lively girl, and takes the lead back toward the hotel. Baylie laughs as they pass through town. She always did enjoy riding Whiskey like this.

Upon reaching the hotel Rachael ties the horse up and helps Baylie down.

"I must be dreaming."

Rachael freezes. That voice. She knows that voice. Baylie looks up at her mama wondering why she stopped. She takes her hand in her smaller one and tries to get her attention.

"I must be hallucinating," he says, staring at the sight before him.

Rachael turns slowly.

There is he. Baylie peeks around her mama and spots the man she had seen earlier that day. The finely dressed man with colourful tie.

"John..."

Suddenly Rachael feels like she had gone back 4 years as the man she once loved more than anything stands before her.

"My Little Dragon."

♡♡♡

@bayisdying - @callsignscupcake - @mrsjaderogers - @cycbaby - @mtnofgrace @kiichirose - @askmarinaandothers - @themusingofagothicsoul - @gizmodear - @beaner-life-23 -

#doc holliday x rachael #doc holliday x oc #tombestone 1993 #his little dragon #tombstone #doc holliday

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ashleyrainsims · 4 months ago

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We walked around the territory of the lab with the infection scanner switched on, and the scanner itself periodically organized the spores into small piles, which we picked up and packed in a special bag. For me, this process was like magic.

Marty: Holy shit! This bitch has self-replicating cells! Ricky: Can you explain this for the stupid? Marty: These cells, in short, they can't be removed from the body. But antibodies from the doctor's blood should help.

Danny mined the infection profile data. Delacour had grossly overestimated my scientific abilities with his "put it in and press the button". It turned out that it was necessary to put it with a pipette and into a long flask, which was already stuffed into a special hole. And as the icing on the cake - needed to reconfigure the button. Honestly, I would have ruined the whole thing trying to get that data profile. Danny is smart, he worked it out fast.

Sometimes I had to bring him to his senses by slapping him. But we got the data the scientist needed.

Delacour: You did it! I didn't even expect the data profile to be so complete. Ash: When will the spore filter be ready? Delacour: I will try to have it done by tomorrow morning. I'll send it by courier as soon as it's done. Ash: Is there anything in the lab I should know about?

Delacour: Nothing worthwhile. The key card I gave you works on all the doors. I'll get to work on the spore filter immediately. Good luck! Ash: Don't. We both know that you wouldn't have helped without coercion. So there's no reason for you to put a good face on a sorry business.

Danny: Don't go there. I can't bear it if anything happens to you. Ash: I can't. I have to see this. Danny: I don't know how to explain it… I just feel it. She hates you. So mush. And she'll kill you if she gets the chance. Ash: She?

Danny: I think so. I feel like you're the only thing keeping me from being completely… part of her. Ash: Captain Gilbert went in there twice and came out alive both times. We'll just take a look and then we'll be out of there. Danny: That was almost a year ago. In that time, it had become stronger. Even now, the noise in my head has gotten louder. I can hear them singing, and I can feel that it has grown roots under the whole town. You saw it yourself - the whole sewer system is clogged with vines.

Danny: At least promise me that if Marty wants a sample for testing, you won't go after him. Ash: I promise I won't let Marty take any samples!

Previous // Next

#ts4 story #strangerville syndrome #ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 simblr #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 gameplay #OC Ash #OC Danny #OC Marty #OC Ricky #ts4 screenshot #sims story #long post

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timeoverload · 5 months ago

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I did not have a good time today. I was hoping it would be easier but I was wrong about that again. The morning team lead was in a shitty mood. He was yelling at me about his frustrations as soon as I got there. I know he was venting but it feels like he is taking out his anger on me when he talks to me that way. He was getting in my face a little bit and I didn't like that. I'm not sure if he was even aware that he was acting unprofessional. That is not a good way to start the morning and he acted like that all day. It stressed everyone out. He also stayed late, which was nice of him to do but he really didn't have to. We were busy but it wasn't so bad that we couldn't manage it without his help. He has a habit of staying late during the week so that he can leave early every Friday. He didn't go home until 4:30 even though he is supposed to leave at 2:30. He was driving me nuts even when he was working on the other side of the room.

I got done with my cases at 12:30 but then I had to spend over an hour peel packing instruments. I was mad about it because I thought the reason that I had to do it was stupid. One of the eye doctors is on vacation for the next 2 weeks and the eye coordinator told me to take all of his instruments out of the cataract pans and peel pack them all. We are going to put them back in there when he gets back so all of that work seems pointless. She thinks it will save us money but I think she's wrong. Having those instruments in the pan doesn't slow me down at all and they don't move as much when they are being reprocessed so there are less chances for them to get damaged. I think they are more likely to get damaged now when there are tons of peel packs crammed into small bins. They are safer in the metal pans. They had to pay me for taking all of them out and repackaging them. The peel packs and instrument protectors are expensive but she didn't seem to care when I explained that to her. I had to run an extra cycle in the autoclave for all of those instruments and our autoclaves use a lot of energy so that isn't cheap. Everyone else thought it was a bad idea too but I had to do it anyway. I think she likes finding me more work to do because she drops stuff a lot and opens shit for dumb reasons so I have to redo it. She will see me drowning in work and she will dump more on me. She has texted and called me outside of work asking me questions about stuff. She doesn't trust me even though I have proven that I can get everything done. It also upset me that she didn't consult with anybody or tell the other eye coordinator about the changes so everyone was confused earlier. She is getting on my nerves and I think she can tell that I'm getting fed up. I'm trying not to show it but it was difficult for me to maintain my composure earlier. I wanted to talk to the director about what was going on but he couldn't make time for me today. Sometimes I feel like I am annoying him now. I haven't gotten to talk to my boss about anything either. I suppose I will just have to put up with it.

I ate breakfast and lunch today. I wanted to go outside at lunch just because I felt like I needed to leave the building to decompress. Unfortunately I don't have enough time to go somewhere else to get food. I was hangry so I didn't go anywhere. I got a salad because nothing else they had looked good. It wasn't enough but it was better than nothing. I was upset because I really just wanted to go get a burrito or something.

I lifted too much today so my body isn't very happy with me. I haven't had any more heart issues so that's good. My rib wasn't bothering me either so I'm glad I don't have to worry about that so much anymore. I am very tired though.

I was hoping I wouldn't have to stay my full shift but I did anyway. I really wanted to leave early today because I know I probably won't be able to tomorrow. Tomorrow is going to be busier for me and I'm not looking forward to it. I was thinking about calling in tomorrow because I have 15 hours of PTO available but I don't think I will. I should save it. I am going to have a lot to do. I just don't feel like getting yelled at in the morning but I have to deal with it and try not to let him get to me.

I think I need to try to relax now and stop thinking about work so much. It is sort of hard for me to calm down because I saw a spider in my room when I got home. I don't know where it went. I am sure there are probably more. I don't have a problem with bugs but I hate it when they are in my room. I used to have an extreme phobia of spiders but it isn't as bad now. I am still not happy that I saw one. I'm not going to try to search for it right now because I don't have the energy at the moment. I will be ok as long as I don't wake up to it crawling on me. I am going to do my best to stop thinking about that too. I don't have much else to say. I wish I had more positive things to talk about. I really hope I sleep better tonight.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow too. Thanks for listening to me. :) 💖💖💖

#personal

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noblesixofhalo · 1 year ago

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Fallout Bebop Chapter 3.

I really wished that I was able to get out the next chapter on AO3 but sadly it probably won't be until late Sunday or Monday since I'll be gone on Saturday and into Sunday morning. Who knows, maybe I'll pull a hail mary and get something out by tomorrow night. Any here's the next part.

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*Goodsprings, Mojave Desert, late spring 2271*

After the short walk from the Bebop to the town of Goodsprings and after a hearing Faye and Spike argue over stupid petty shit, the three human being disasters arrived at the town to begin asking questions around about the whereabouts of Marcos the killer ghoul.

"Really Jet, a saloon?" "How fucking cliched can you get?"

"Shut up and start asking around."

Jet grumbled at Faye as they arrived a saloon known in the prewar era as the Prospector Saloon. Much to Spikes chagrin, a large dog began barking before he was quieted down by the owner.

"Cheyenne, that's enough. Sorry about that, she won't attack unless you give me a reason to."

A young woman chuckled as she ordered the large Australian Cattle Dog who had heterochromia, a condition in which an animal or a person has more than one eye color, away from the three would-be cowboys.

Spike muttered, "Great more animals".

"I'm sorry, I don't think we had a chance to meet, I'm Sunny. Sunny Smiles."

"Pleasure to meet you Sunny, I'm Jet Black and these two washed up degenerates are Spike Spiegel and Faye Valentine. We are here because we are pursuing a killer who has been responsible for multiple murders of settlers. His name is Marcos, a ghoul."

"I have heard of him but if you are bounty hunters working for the New California Republic, I'm sorry but I don't get involved in the politics of the NCR or any faction out here in the Mojave. The NCR only claims to care about law and order and making the roads safe but honestly that's only to protect NCR settlers, nothing against you guys."

"We don't work for the NCR, we are independent contractors you could say."

Jet said to the young woman as she glanced at the three further before continuing on.

"Well, you are more than free to look around and ask people about your killer, as for me I'm the town guard and the local trapper for this town. I mostly hunt geckos that are known to injure or kill any folks out here."

"Do you know if there are any folks out here that might know about Marcos?"

"Like I said before Mr. Black I'm only concerned for the wellbeing of Goodsprings, if you want to talk to the other residents here, by all means do whatever, I need to keep tabs on the town and one of those things is hunting wildlife that could pose a threat to the townsfolk here. If you need any supplies flag down Chet, otherwise Doc Mitchell, the local town doctor could possibly help. Good hunting."

Sunny bid the three farewell and took her dog outside closing the door behind them leaving the three now figuring out another plan in pursue of the killer ghoul. Faye huffed in slight annoyance that no leads could be made.

"Well that was a complete waste of time."

"As if you would have done any better Romani."

"Fuck off Spike, I would have so done better, ugh this sucks."

"Both of you quit whining and keep asking around, clearly Sunny doesn't know anything about our lead, but she mentioned Chet and Doc Mitchell might be able to help us so quit your arguing and keep asking around."

"Fine, Spike you go look for Chet I'll look for this Doc Mitchell guy."

"Why am I looking for him shouldn't we just stick together and work together you know, something that you suck at all the time?"

"Ugh men...."

"Women."

"I heard that!"

"Good for you!"

Spike hollered out at Faye as they continued their search for their head guy. Despite that little argument, they ended up sticking together asking one of the vendors at Goodsprings."

"If you city slickers are looking for supplies, I'm here for that."

"We're not city slickers, we're here because we were given some lead on a killer that must be brought to justice."

"Well if you're with the NCR, I'm not interested in helping ya out. We have enough problems as it is, last thing we need is some NCR hired bounty hunters causing trouble. That along with raider gangs and further out in the wastes, Caesar's Legion."

"Don't you mean "Seezures" Legion"?

"They pronounce it as "Kaizar's" Legion, I didn't invent the group so don't ask me."

"You must be Chet." Jet replied finishing up the conversation about the various factions vying for control of the Mojave Wasteland.

"Correct."

"Well Chet, my name is Jet Black, these two are Spike and Faye and I'll rest assure you and everyone here at Goodsprings that we are not part of the NCR or any of those groups in the Mojave wastes, we a private contractor and we have been tasked with hunting down a ghoul by the name of Marcos, have you heard of him?"

"Funny you ask, he was just here a few days ago, he was with a bunch of armed ghouls, no Khans or anything like that."

"Who are the Khans?" Faye asked Chet.

"Khans are tough mean sons of bitches, they mostly leave outsiders alone unless you got some chems they want. They aren't like most raiders who kill for the thrill of it, still I wouldn't fuck around with them."

"Do you know who Marcos was traveling with?"

"I'm afraid I don't know the name of the group Jet, that he was traveling with, he mostly passed by talking about 'getting vengeance against the smoothskins that did him rotten' and just carried on."

"Ugh enough talking around, where did he go?!"

"Jesus Faye, keep your shirt on, though that would be pretty hot if you...."

Whack! Faye angrily smacked Spike with the tall lanky cowboy taken a bit back from what just happened. Did she seriously smacked him in front of everyone in this strange town?

"Men are such idiots".

"He was moving north I think away from New Vegas and out away from the NCR border. I think he's going to that Ghoul sanctuary called Gecko? That's way far from here though, otherwise just keep going north. Do you have a photo of him?"

"Yeah right here, right from my terminal."

"Yeah that's the guy you would be looking for."

"Thank you Chet." Jet said politely to the merchant. Chet responded in kind.

"If you need any supplies feel free to take a look."

"Will do thank you."

"Alright let's regroup back at the Bebop and start searching northward from here. The fact that he was in Goodsprings just recently means he couldn't have gotten too far from here."

They bid farewell to the merchant and the folks of Goodsprings and began their quick trip back to the Bebop. Along the way, they encountered giant mutated praying mantises which both were quickly dispatched with Faye of course expressing her disgust for the giant bugs. Jet rolled his eyes telling her that this is what they will encounter on Earth compared to life elsewhere in the Solar System.

See you space cowboy.

#cowboy bebop #fallout fanfic #spike speigal #faye valentine #jet black #sunny smiles #Chet (Fallout New Vegas)#cowboy bebop fanfiction #see you space cowboy

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haretic · 21 days ago

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i know that seeking help was the right thing to do. but it just feels like a gross exaggeration of my life. every time i have to tell someone whats wrong with me, every time they work through the laundry list of mandatory questions, i feel more and more unsure of myself. yes i have and plan to engage in acts of self harm. no there is no chance i am pregnant. yes i had plans for suicide. no i have not taken any drugs or alcohol. yes i hear voices, but no, not like that, the other type. yes i see things, yes its like that. i feel like im making things up and just lying to get something out of it the more i have to talk about it. like im manipulating everyone around me into helping me because they have to, its their job, and i know that, and i'm being opportunistic.

i know that my life is changed now, and it all came about on a random wednesday. i would've been able to talk myself down, i probably wouldn't have even done it, but it just felt right to tell someone and come what may. i don't know if i want to get better. i don't even know if i can get better. i've never operated at normal capacity, i've always been too high or too low or just about to burst at the seams or collapsing in on myself like a dying star. anything else will be weird, its always felt like a costume to pretend to be any level of "okay", i think it'll always feel like a second skin, but it won't be a costume if i actually do get better. i just don't know if i'm capable of it. i don't even know if i want it.

thats a lie, i do want to get better, but i feel like i didn't get bad enough first. i feel like i should've been more destructive, like i should've made them come to me and force me into help. i think that would have helped me feel less like a poser, but i just wasn't there yet. theres always the future, and now that i'm 'on file', it'll be taken more seriously. the doctors didn't really seem to take me serious, and neither did my parents. we'll get em next time, i guess.

they say bpd or bipolar, i've said i have bpd for a long time now, so i'd be surprised if it isn't that, but bipolar seems more in line with my highs and lows long-term. splitting still feels like the right way to describe short term. maybe its both, but i still feel like a total fucking poser. is it bad if i want medication over just therapy? i want to believe theres a cure all pill i can take once a day that'll just make me feel better, or number, or just less of everything i feel everyday, but i know that doesn't exist. i'd still like to try though.

i'm nervous for going back to school tomorrow. this felt like a totally lame halloween. all i did was stay home while my parents acted like i'd turn into dust if they breathed near me wrong. my friends sent me drunk messages and voice notes of how much fun they were having. they don't mean to be malicious, or hurt me, but it still does. my last halloween as a kid, as a teenager, and i finally have friends who i could've done something with, but i go and fuck it all up for myself, and now my parents might not even want me to go to university next year. i don't know what i'll do if i have to stay home. i don't think i'd manage that. university i can manage. that i can't. they don't get it.

i have a meeting with someone on saturday, and from there on we start the processing of trying to find what makes me tick. or what makes me stop ticking. or gets me to tick at a normal pace. for now i'm just dreading tomorrow, and for the most part, my future.

#txt #vent #blogging #mine

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myfirsthaircut · 4 months ago

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July 26, 2024,

More photo boards, then grabbed some bubble tea and a walk through savers to buy a photo album for the photos that didn't fit on the board.

Meagan's dad's memorial is tomorrow. We have been best friends for 27 years and I've been trying to support her the best I can through what is one of the hardest times.

Her mother was mostly in denial of how sick he was. He was fighting stage 4 lung cancer for a couple years. He was in the hospital being treated for pnemonia when he went into cardiac arrest, was revived and put on a ventilator in the ICU. Scans revealed that one of his lungs had completely collapse, too full with cancerous fluid, and the cancer had literally broken one of his ribs by growing through it. His brain scans showed too much damage was done to his brain during his cardiac arrest that he was not going to wake up. Despite the doctors telling us all this, I don't think Meagan's mom really understood that this was then end.

We ended up sitting in the ICU waiting room and I explained to her what the doctors were telling her, and that she needed to answer some questions about what his end of life plans were (Meagan had previously asked me to do this, as her mother never answered when she asked). I am pushy and forceful enough that we got some answers about cremation and such, and got her to tell us that he would not want to be kept alive on a vent if there was no chance at recovery. When the doctors (who were so great through all of this) came back to discuss this, I again had guide her to answer the palliative care questions, including the DNR.

It was really emotionally difficult to be that person, cause I kind of felt like a monster. He wasn't my father, but here I am bullying a 67 year old woman into letting her husband die, but I also was doing exactly what Meagan wanted, but couldn't get her mother to do. Luckily, for whatever reason, her mother seems to respond well to my directness and signed the DNR.

Irwin (Meagan's father) died before the life insurance was in effect. I'm going to post her mom's gofundme here:

https://gofund.me/3165592c

Don't know if any one still reads any of these posts anymore, but a little help goes a long way. Her father was committed to fighting the cancer, and her mother was in denial of how sick he really was, so they didn't have any money set aside for this, and the life insurance was supposed to take effect in October, but he didn't make it. Her mom will get the premiums back, eventually, but that won't be much, and Meagan has two kids and no money to help her mom manage this.

Tomorrow is the memorial, and Meagan has a speech written she is hoping to read, but she is very shy, and has social anxiety, and I have already promised to read her statement if she can't. She's my sister in everything but blood, and my mission is to get her through tomorrow in one piece.

Please talk to your next of kin about what you want when you die, have it in writing if you can. This would have been a lot easier if they had. It might seem morbid, but life, and death, happens.

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hoshi-kawaii · 6 months ago

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For my dad's birthday, my sister and brother went in together on a gift for my dad. My brother invited him over. His wife remade one of our late mom's pie recipes that she always made for my dad on special occasions. My brother and his wife have a 7 month old baby girl who my dad has only seen twice. The assumption was that my father would come over for pie and his gift and would see his grand daughter for a little while. The least the guy can do. My brother has been gone for months learning to be a pilot so you think he might be interested in how his son is.

But my father calls up and says he has some back pain and it hurts too much so he asked if he can just drive up and they can bring out the pie and the gift and he can take them back with him. All benefits with none of the work.

My brother is rightfully upset because his dad doesn't even want to see his own son or his grand daughter. My sister gets involved and says, "No, they won't do that. Just go in for 5 minutes it's no different than sitting in the car. BTW did you see a doctor for this pain?" No.

My father says, "no no I'm in too much pain now and I can't even drive so I'm not coming."

My sister tells my brother to forget the gift. Return it. Enjoy the pie yourselves. But my brother's wife is like I made the guy a fucking pie. Let's just bring it to him and bring the baby and he will see how cute she is.

So they call my dad up and tell him that they will come to him. But he says:

"Can we just meet halfway, I was going to drive to my friend's house (about halfway between them) and watch the Phillies (baseball)."

Like I shit you not, baseball is and always has been more important to the man than anyone in his family and whenever anyone gives him a chance to be involved in their lives the man does this. Meanwhile he goes around garnering sympathy from people because "his wife is dead and his 8 kids don't want to talk to him."

So fuck it. They ate the pie. The man went to his friend's house and stayed for three days complaining he was in too much pain to leave but constantly refusing to go to the doctor.

When my sister asked why he won't go, he claimed it would take too long to get in. She called and he got in at 9 am the next morning. They said he pulled a muscle and gave him some opiates and sent him on his way. Old white man privilege.

Meanwhile I suffer in pain every day of my life. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now the guy is in Cali visiting his old friends thanks to a plane ticket my sister bought him. He's gonna go to my cousin's funeral tomorrow and use the situation to get as much sympathy from a group of mourners as he can get. My cousin was my mom's nephew and they both died from horrible battles with cancer.

There just isn't a single thing about the man that doesn't piss me off. The stories are endless.

He treats my poor sister like a wife or a mother. It helps that she lives 10 hours away, but it doesn't stop the man from relying on her for something he could easily do himself.

She feels bad because our mom told her to take care of him (to an extent). But I think after this most recent issue, she is very much done with him.

The man had eight kids and he's been burning his bridges with all of them. He's probably about to be evicted so you would think he might want to spend time with his son who owns a house and has a spare room.

#the stories go on and on my whole fucking life #he has his priorities but his family is not one of them #its all baseball and end times rhetoric

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fraink5-writes · 1 year ago

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In the Names of Freedom - Chapter 17

Hey, everyone, this chapter is a bit early because, unfortunately, I won't be able to post tomorrow or next Sunday (sorry in advance!).

Thanks to @leio13 who dedicatedly edited this chapter through her incomprehensible screaming.

Summary: After confirming the death of his latest target, Xiao’s secret mission is interrupted by an eccentric stranger in green, who claims to be Xiao’s protector! But the reality is much more convoluted… What destiny could possibly link Xiao with Venti—an assassin of hitmen?

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Venti left the scene with great haste. To think he would run into the famed lead detective of the Adepti Agency, Morax, a second time… He hadn't changed at all since their last meeting. Venti could still remember that day at the hospital in Wolvendom twelve years ago as clear as day…

He had been beaten within an inch of his life, but somehow he had won. At least, he thought he did. But he had collapsed shortly after, and then, to his surprise, he woke up in a hospital bed a few days later. He was only a teen then. A teen with absolutely nothing. And yet many people had come to ask him questions—"What happened at Decarabian's Tower?" "Who killed Decarabian?" He had ignored them all.

Until an unusual man paid the room a visit. Although his posture and step carried an undeniable authority, when he spoke, his face and voice were surprisingly disarming. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I am Morax."

The boy's plan was, of course, to ignore the stranger just as he had done with the rest. "..."

"What is your name?"

"..." A foolish question. Even if he played along and made one up, it would mean nothing.

"I'm sure you've met many people over the past few days trying to ask you about Decarabian's Lair, but I'm not interested in that. I want to talk about you for a bit."

Yeah right. Morax may have worn a dignified facade, but he was no different from the other detectives. Besides, there was nothing to be said about the boy anyway.

"See?" The nurse chimed in. "He refuses to say anything to anyone—not even the doctors who saved his ungrateful life! All he will say is 'Where's Venti?' We've looked, but there is no 'Venti.' He's useless. I'm sure you won't find what you're looking for with him."

Morax exhaled. "Would you mind letting the two of us talk alone?"

"Suit yourself." The nurse walked out of the room.

So Morax was one of the persistent types. What would it be? Yelling? Threatening? Grabbing? Hitting? It didn't matter.

"That was an inexcusable thing to say about a patient—especially in front of him."

He didn't care. They were probably right that he was useless, anyway.

"Well, since we're alone, I will get serious. What I want to speak with you about today is…"

Here it comes, the inevitable interrogation about Decarabian…

Morax reached into his pocket and pulled out a square photograph. "Do you know this boy?" The boy in the photo had black hair in two short pigtails and eyes as blue as an autumn day.

The hospitalized boy's breath got stuck in his throat, and his eyes went wide.

"Is this 'Venti?'" Morax asked.

"What happened to him?!"

"I was hoping you would tell me."

He wanted to pounce and scream "TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!!" but his body crumpled in agony when he so much as sat up.

"Try to remain calm; you'll only end up hurting yourself otherwise," Moraxed coaxed him. "I'll tell you what I know after you tell me what you know about him."

The boy growled, but he relented. Morax was the only person who took his search for Venti seriously, and he needed whatever information he could get. "We… Me, him, and an unfamiliar boy… we were running away…"

"Running away?"

"Yeah… from Decarabian's Lair. Everyone was panicking and fighting all around the city, so we decided to use the chance to run away."

"Where were you running to?"

"I don't know. Neither of us had left before—we weren't allowed."

Morax jotted something down on his notepad. "Okay, so then what happened after you ran away?"

"The other boy… He was injured and delirious. But Venti was insistent that we bring him with us. So I stayed behind to buy them some time…"

"I understand. So you don't know what happened after that?"

"No… Tell me already—what happened?!"

"I'm very sorry to inform you that Venti is dead. By the time I found his body, he had already passed. He had been stabbed twice and fatally shot in the chest."

Dead? Venti was… dead? The giant beautiful world that Venti had sung songs about just a week ago suddenly collapsed. The song that was supposed to illuminate the blue sky and nurture the living creatures of the planet fell from the heavens. "Arghhhhhhh!" The boy's whole body screamed and writhed.

Morax watched silently. There was no consolation he could give. When a nurse knocked on the door, he sent them away.

A tear broke through the boy's eyelids and tumbled listlessly down his face. Then others followed in a silent funeral procession towards the bleak, white sheets. "So what happens now?" The question was just as much about himself as it was about Venti.

"The boy's body is being sent back to Decarabian's Lair where it will be buried in an unmarked grave alongside the other victims of the tragedy."

So that was it? Venti's body was going to be thrown into an unmarked ditch and forgotten like he never existed? "Why…? He had a name… He almost made it out too…!" It was too unfair.

"I'm sorry. It seems like Mondstadt's government wants to quickly put this incident behind them. The sudden, implosive collapse of one of their biggest cities—even if it was an overgrown drug den—can't be a good look for them."

He wanted to scream. The outside world was no different than Decarabian's City. Venti's dream had always been an impossible fantasy. He had died for nothing.

"But there still is some hope." Morax suddenly smiled. "You're still alive."

What did it matter? He was nobody. For Venti, he had wanted to be someone, but he had failed.

"If Venti is important to you, you must remember him; you're the only one who can." That was the last piece of advice Morax gave before irreversibly exiting the nameless boy's hospital room forever.

It was only many years later, when his own journey led him to Stone Gate, that he would learn that the other boy had also survived, that Morax had found him too, and that he now went by the name Xiao.

Venti was an entirely different person since he had last met Morax, and while he wished that was enough to prevent Morax from recognizing him, he knew better than to get his hopes up. If anything, he was grateful that the detective went along with his lies.

But he had no idea what Morax would reveal in private. Venti himself had no idea what he wanted Xiao to know, and the thought of Morax taking that choice from him petrified him. Of course, it was all unfair. Xiao had the right to know. Which is why during lunch he had nearly worked up the courage to tell him about the other case—about the other Venti. But after Xiao had told him no and especially after Morax appeared, Venti's resolve was crumbling. After all, what good would this information do Xiao? What could it do besides saddle on another painful memory? Venti wanted to save Xiao; he wanted him to be happy. And for that, perhaps it was better if he never remembered.

All these reminders of the past made Venti crave a drink. Xiao had been very stern with his directions before Venti had left, but Venti was an adult who could make his own decisions. Financially, Xiao still had the upper hand; he had left Venti with no money, but this was Stone Gate—with a little stealth, Venti was sure he could get his hands on something.

Before he knew it, Venti had arrived in the neighborhood of the hotel. It would actually be more convenient to find a supply near the hotel, so he quickly took a seat on the low roof of a nearby building. From here he could watch the entrance of the hotel (lest Xiao arrive unnoticed) and the surrounding areas. And strangely enough, someone caught his eye almost immediately; a familiar woman had exited the hotel. With straight, dark hair in a ponytail, she was wearing purple Liyue garb and round, golden spectacles—oh, Venti had seen her at the restaurant. She had her phone against her ear and a scowl on her lips.

"I could easily find the lyre on my own…"

…

"I just don't understand why we had to come all this way…"

…

"With the right budget, I could have resolved this search without having to leave Liyue Harbor!"

Having leapt from his perch, Venti tapped the woman's shoulder. "Excuse me."

"Uh, hold on," she muttered into the phone before turning to Venti. "Um, hi?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but are you looking for a lyre?"

"Something came up. I'll talk to you later. Bye" She hung up the phone with great eagerness before beaming at Venti. "Yes, I am! Do you know something?"

"Unfortunately not, but I'm also looking for a lyre myself!"

"Oh, really? Then, why don't we look together?"

"That would be wonderful!" Venti readily agreed. "I have no clues as to where my lyre might be, so you lead the way."

"O-oh, okay." The woman started walking south east.

"You know, since we're so close to Mondstadt," Venti began. "You could probably buy another one here in Stone Gate?"

"You're probably right, but the one I lost is important to me. I actually bought it on a recent trip to Mondstadt, so I'd really like to find it again."

"Oh, I completely understand! A musical instrument carries the heart and memories of its owner."

"Exactly. That's why I'm here again in Stone Gate to see if I can find it… What about you? Are you here to look for your lyre?"

"I wish. I'm not even sure it's in Stone Gate. It's an old model, so I'm terrified just thinking of what might be happening while I'm not there." Venti shuddered. "I'm actually here because my partner dragged me along."

"...Partner?"

"Yeah, he said, 'I'd love to go to Stone Gate since we both have so much history there', and now here we are on this impromptu getaway."

"Wow, sounds very romantic…"

"Oh, you wouldn't think that if you'd met him."

"Why not? What kind of person is he?"

"He's very scary. He's a man of few words, and he's so tough! Oh, but he's actually a sweetheart! You know, I'm just a little bard, but I know I can count on him to save me in a pinch!"

"O-oh…"

"You know, Stone Gate has something of a bad reputation, but I'm sure my partner could beat up any lame criminal this town throws at me! He's my hero!"

"Oh, w-wow…" The woman was staring with her eyes wide and jaw slightly agape.

"Ah! Sorry for saying such things! I'm just not used to traveling by my lonesome, so I'm a little worried…"

"I-it's okay. I understand! So, um… where is this partner of yours if not with you?"

"Oh, well… He ran into an unexpected family problem, so he'll be busy with that for a while… So don't worry! There's no chance of him interrupting our search! He doesn't even know I'm out!"

In that matter, Venti and the lady from the restaurant continued chatting (mainly about music) as they wandered south, casually searching for a lyre. As far as music went, Venti noted she was an amateur at best, but as an expert, he could not turn away the opportunity to teach her a lesson. When they reached the waterfront, the conservation came to a stop.

"Oh wow, we made it all the way to the port, didn't we?" Venti remarked.

"It looks like it. And we still haven't found the lyre…"

"What a shame…"

"Oh, but we might be able to learn something helpful here!"

"Really?"

"Some of my friends keep a boat here; perhaps they found some leads."

"Then let's go talk to them! I'd love to meet them!"

Venti let the brunette lead the way as he trailed slightly behind her. Meeting her friends would probably take a long time. Venti would have to apologize to Xiao when they met again. As they slowed, he reached into his back pocket and unlocked his phone. He had laid out every phone he had ever owned in the exact same way just for moments like this one. Without looking, he guided his fingers to his messages (luckily there was only one) and quickly sent off his coordinates to his only contact: Xiao. Then he shut his phone off and turned all his attention back to the ship they had stopped in front. It was a small vessel, but anyone in Liyue would know to fear its carmine sails. Venti's legs nearly failed. He knew he and Xiao were being followed, but he never thought their pursuant would be the most feared pirate group in Teyvat and Ningguang’s shadow—the Crux Fleet.

Two strong hands grabbed Venti's arms and twisted them. When Venti's knees buckled, the mysterious person put him in cuffs. "That was surprisingly easy," said a male voice from behind him. "Are you sure this is our guy?"

The restaurant lady nodded. "Sorry, my bard friend. Looks like we were both here in Stone Gate for other reasons."

#Genshin Impact #Xiaoven #Venti #Xiao #Zhongli

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shinra-makonoid · 2 years ago

Note

Hello. I know that you are a bit cautious regarding surgeries (hysterectomy, mastectomy etc.). But the recent rise in anti-trans movements that advocate for a change of laws is terrifying. I already had the mastectomy (last October) and I recovered very well. I'm also on the waiting list for Hysterectomy and Metaidoioplasty (already got it insurance covered as well).

I am a bit scared of the surgery, because of possible complications but I do know that someday I definitely want to take that risk. But if I get the call tomorrow for an appointment I would only take it because I'm scared there won't be a chance to get it otherwise (for example if the laws change (I live in Germany)).

What do you think about that? Do you think it's a rational fear to have? Because if that really would happen, like in some parts of the US, that would mean a forced detransition.

Did you ever think about that? To "get it done" just so the progress (HRT) so far cannot be taken away?

To be fair I'm cautious of any surgery. I think in general doctors kind of downplay it a bit, but maybe it's also because I've had a very bad experience.

I think it's rational to fear your rights disappearing because there is a trend. At the same time, for example for hysterectomy, while I fully understand and support the idea of having metodioplasty (which I think is the best bottom surgery atm available to us), I also wonder what would happen if, say, testosterone was no available anymore. There is a shortage of T these days here and so it's already pretty stressful, I wouldn't want to know how stressful it would be if the alternative was no hormone at all.

I plan to eventually get those surgeries too though, but I decided to lose weight beforehand so that I would reduce the stress from it on my body and eventual risks.

However I'm not sure progress regarding HRT can really be reversed. We already know that hair and voice would probably still be similar, the rest could change a bit but most detrans women still struggle to pass as women while trying. So... I'm not really worried about forced detransition.

I would caution you not to rush it even if you are scared.

#anon #ask

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apinchofm · 3 years ago

Text

Warnings

AU: Bertrand is alive, well and the best uncle.

Miriam greeted "Hello Marcus,"

"Hello, Miriam. You are babysitting me for the next few months." Marcus said, as his bags were carried into her home. Out came Bertrand, a massive smile on his face.

"This is Bertrand, my husband." Miriam introduced. The two hadn't had a chance to meet when Matthew presented him.

"I have spoken with Aisha. She will try not to bite any more barons, but I have promised to hunt with her tomorrow," Bertrand said.

"You are too soft of them," Miriam chastised him.

"Our daughters are as tough as my wife. I need not be harsher than they are," Bertrand replied and Miriam fought back a smile, "Now, let's not fight in front of my nephew. Or would you be my godson? Matthew is like my brother, but he is my best friend." He mused and Marcus smiled, confused.

" A pleasure to meet you," Bertrand held out his hand and Marcus shook it, "Good grip there. Heard you are in a spot of trouble,"

"That's mild." Miriam murmured, "Don't worry, he is off to university in a few months. Try to stay calm."

"Of course," Bertrand said. Matthew, had, of course, told him in intense detail the New Orleans incident. Marcus being in England would be good for a while.

"I have been friends with your father since he was a mere fifty years old!" Bertrand said, leading the young man inside.

"But, you seem very different to one another," Marcus observed, "Near opposite." He understood how Matthew and Miriam were friends.

"I have stories about your father that would shock you," Bertrand said, "Why don't you get settled in your room, and we can talk?" There was an unusual warmth to Bertrand, despite the intimidating presence he and his wife gave off. Marcus had decided long ago Miriam was not one to cross but felt as if he shouldn't cross him either.

....

Jason was excited to see Marcus in his father's study, despite what he had heard about New Orleans.

"Is father boring you with his war stories?" Jason teased, hugging his friend, "Has he reached the Crusades yet or he is still at Troy?"

"Marcus is enjoying my stories!" Bertrand defended.

"I am. But I am also concerned about how medicine used be," Marcus said, after hearing a story about War of the Roses.

"Papa, mother won't let me- oh, hello." A young woman stormed in, demanding Bertrand's attention, but he wasn't annoyed.

"Marcus, this is one of our daughters, Layla." He introduced the young woman.

She smiled at Marcus, "Hello. I want to go out."

"If your mother said, no. No." Bertrand finished, then looked to Jason, "Jason, go speak to your mother. Layla is going out if you go with her." Jason shook his head and dragged his sister with him, as she stared at Marcus.

"...You want to sleep with her, don't you?" Bertrand asked, looking at the way Marcus stared after his youngest.

"No, I would never-" Marcus began but Bertrand just smirked.

"I know your reputation well. And not her, she's my blood. A tender child. Now, the other three, Miriam's blood go ahead. But be wary of the consequences." Bertrand smirked and Marcus laughed.

...

"Are you smoking?" Bertrand asked.

Marcus was sitting in the garden one night. Bertrand went to check on him. Usually, he would be out with Jason.

"..Yes?"

"Fantastic. May I have one? Miriam detests the smell of tobacco, so I never have cigarettes," Marcus gave him one and lit it for him. He leaned back and evaluated the younger vampire.

"Why are you out here by yourself? Thinking?"

Marcus nodded and handed him the letter he was holding in his hand, "Yes, about this." Bertrand read it over. It was an acceptance letter to Oxford for Medicine. It would be his second doctorate.

"Very well done, Marcus!" Bertrand exclaimed, clapping his back, "Proud of you."

"You're proud of me?"

Bertrand gave him a strange smile, "Of course I am. You are a bright young man. You've worked very hard. Your father will be thrilled, especially since we were at Oxford. Now I have some stories there."

Marcus shook his head, "Matthew has his duties. I don't want to disturb him."

"He's your father. Sharing good news won't disturb him. In fact, it may lift his spirits. Seeing his boy take on his lessons.

Marcus snorted, taking a puff. Bertrand looked at him strangely.

"Gallowglass taught me to control my strength. To shake people's hands, so I wouldn't break them." Marcus said, "I know there is the rule that we don't tell tales, and don't tell my aunt Fanny, but..."

Bertrand's face fell. He hadn't realized, "I'm sorry. I didn't know. The 1700s were a busy time for me. If I had been in America with him, I would have ensured he raised you."

"Why didn't you come?" Bertrand had fought at Matthew's side for centuries.

"And watch them commit genocide? My wife and I wouldn't have it." Bertrand replied.

"Matthew has always loved in his own way. Actions speak louder than words. He does love you, which is why you are still alive. He chose you." Bertrand urged.

"My father - my human father - was also an action speak louder than words man," Marcus replied, "I traded one harsh patriarch for another."

...

"Matt, it's my fault," Bertrand tried, "I told him he could go. And they are adults. "

Matthew had arrived to check on his son. He was unhappy that Marcus had gone to a party with Jason as opposed to meeting him.

"Marcus is an adult, as he likes to insist and should not be-"

"Oh, do give it a rest." Marcus sighed, speeding out as he always did.

"Matthew," Bertrand, "That was unkind."

Matthew looked at his friend, "He needs discipline."

"Considering you didn't raise him, how on earth do you suppose to do that?" Bertrand pointed out, but his tone wasn't unkind, more disappointed, "You make a son and send him away? And now you are surprised that he doesn't listen to you or has Godfrey's entitlement."

"Godfrey was not entitled," Matthew defended, "At least not to the extent of Baldwin or Verin,"

"No, Marcus reminds me more of Hugh. Which is why you should be careful, dear friend." Bertrand said and Matthew glared at his friend bringing up his dead brother.

"If I treated Jason the way you treat Marcus, he would have killed me in my sleep. In fact, the poor boy told me of his human father and you are very lucky your son is a doctor first, soldier second." Bertrand warned,

"Are you telling me how to raise my son?"

"I am telling you to raise your son," Bertrand replied, "He isn't you or Benjamin."

"Do not mention him."

"I am making a point." Bertrand said, "Otherwise, you may lose him and forever is a long time."

"I know what I am doing Bertrand. He cannot afford to make mistakes," Matthew said sharply, "He cannot."

"Then try setting a better example, Matt." Bertrand's voice dropped to a whisper, "New Orleans happened because you didn't warn him. That was the least

"He doesn't need to know. He does not need to be burdened with it like myself and mother are." Matthew whispered back. He loved Marcus far too much to tell him of his blood rage, to make him believe he was a monster.

Bertrand sighed and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, "Parenting was always going to be the biggest challenge and you create a son who is an educated American revolutionary. Sure you don't want me to adopt him?" He may have raised more women than sons, but his son was nothing but exemplary.

Matthew chuckled, "No. The world wouldn't handle the two of you. And he's my boy. My son. I appreciate you, always. But I can take care of him."

Bertrand nodded and hoped that Matthew would take his advice.

#adow fic #bertrand (all souls)#marcus whitmore #matthew clairmont #miriam shephard #adow #fluff #family angst #bertrand shephard #all souls trilogy

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mattsvn · 3 years ago

Text

CHANCE BALL LOVE!

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x gn!reader

Genre: Meet ugly! strangers to lovers! Getting hit in the head with a volleyball!

Warnings: Blood, head injury, concussion, did I mention getting hit in the head with a volleyball? Food hehe, that's all.

WC: 2.4K

Summary: After being hit with a volleyball by the ace and U19 athlete, Ushijima Wakatoshi, you find yourself laying in the nurse's office, with a bag of ice on your head and a boy apologizing every two minutes for that terrible accident. As the times goes by, you realize that not only you were hit by a ball, but by destiny, and more important, love.

A/N: I'm so excited for this piece! This is a collab for HQHQ (now Anilysium!) The masterlist is here! I hope you like this piece! Reblogs are appreciated!

Life is made up of 90% causality and 10% coincidence.

That was what your mother used to say, with her hands covered with flour up to her elbows, while she prepared one of those delicious desserts. Possibly as a result of all her years perfecting her technique as a pastry chef, but, as in that, she considered that everything had to be planned, measured, and calculated.

On the other hand, your father was always talking about how fate made everything line up perfectly for things in his life to come in abundance, he would happily tell about the coincidences in his life, although the answer was always the same, a debate between the two of them as to what was the truth.

A skeptical pastry chef and a dreamy lawyer, a match made in heaven.

Whatever it had been, causality or causality, you never thought a hit of luck would be so...literal.

It was unusual for you to be in Shiratorizawa's volleyball gymnasium, if you had managed to get into such a prestigious high school it was because of the impeccable grades you always had, sports were not a priority.

You weren't afraid of balls, but, the way everyone was spiking the ball was about to cause you a headache, especially Ushijima Wakatoshi, the school's ace, one of the best athletes in the country.

"Why are we here, again?" you asked, your gaze wandering between the various players and the sound of balls hitting everywhere making the conversation feel distorted.

"Because they" one pointed out, to the rest of the girls looking around the court excitedly "want to see Semi Eita, the pretty boy with the grey hair" she gestured to the boy in the corner, slamming the ball to the ground unaware that they were watching.

"Ah" you replied, somewhat bored, grabbing your backpack and standing up. "Good luck with that, I have to get home early" you said, waving goodbye to everyone.

To leave, or at least, to do it in a faster way, the door that led out of the building, and through which you had to go through the court, was the best option, as it took longer to take the way inside the corridors. The only option as you made your way down the bleachers.

The only thing you heard, with your eyes glued to the ground, trying to go completely unnoticed was a "WATCH OUT!" that made you look up before you saw nothing but darkness.

"I don't know, Wakatoshi-kun, looks like you did kill her" a voice was heard in the distance, the light irritating your eyes if you tried to open them. Still, only because of your stubbornness, you tried to get up without anyone else's help.

"I don't think it's best if you stand up now" you heard a deeper voice, but you didn't know exactly where it was coming from.

"I'm fine" you whispered, placing a hand on where you assumed you had been hit with the volleyball, feeling a warm liquid staining it. It wasn't possible that a spike had cracked your forehead open, right?

Right?

"I'm fine, I have to go" as you stood up, opening your eyes, everything was spinning. An arm went around your shoulders, stopping you from falling back to the ground, firm, but at the same time gentle.

"You need to go to the infirmary, you're bleeding" the voice now seemed to be closer, a little more stable, but, no way did you feel you could even move without throwing up or passing out again, what the fuck had that hit been? Could someone hit someone that hard just with a serve?

The answer was yes, and the name, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You barely felt it when, just like that, he lifted you off the ground, although it seemed that your body felt it. A piece of something, probably cloth or gauze stopped the bleeding. You kept repeating that at least they let you walk, that you were okay, even though, clearly, you had the symptoms of a concussion.

"Are you all right, can you tell me where you are?" questioned Ushijima, entering a room. You had finally managed to open your eyes and recover from the dizziness.

"I'm fine, we're at the high school" you whispered, looking at Ushijima for the first time.

Even if you had gone to games before, you had never seen that look on Wakatoshi's face, a mixture of fear and worry, accompanied by his pale face and a barely noticeable bloodstain on his shirt.

"You can wait outside, dear boy," said the nurse, slightly terrified by what had happened.

A couple of hours passed before they managed to let you go, after calling your parents and making sure you didn't leave the building unless you were accompanied. You didn't need stitches, and that was a huge plus, but still, you left the infirmary with a gauze pad on your forehead, some candy, and a chance to take the rest of the week off to rest, which wasn't such a bad outcome.

You closed the door behind you, looking sideways at Wakatoshi on the floor, who got up almost immediately, still looking scared, even his gaze lingered for a few seconds on the patch on your forehead, which reminded him of the fact that he had accidentally hit you with a volleyball while practicing his serves.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, looking disheveled, and as if he had done nothing more than wait in the hallway until everything was in order.

"Oh, don't worry, Ushijima-san, I'm fine" you assured, but it didn't seem to be enough for him.

"I'm so sorry, let me take you home to be sure you arrive safely" he asked, with his hands behind his back and his head slightly bent down, like a child discovered stealing the candy from the counter.

"My parents are here to take me home, don't worry" you assured, glancing sideways at the door, somewhat far away. "You can walk me to the car, if you like."

"Of course" he nodded, walking beside you. Up close he looked even taller than he was, his expression calm and his gaze fixed straight ahead, though, he seemed to have a doubt that would leave his lips at any moment "Would you allow me to walk you to school tomorrow?"

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, somehow, the sound of just both of your footsteps in the hallway was comforting, soothing. It wasn't awkward, or uncomfortable. Ushijma didn't believe in awkward silences, because to him actions said more than words, and, that a question shouldn't be answered right away. So, the way to the entrance was nothing more than waiting for an honest, and safe, answer.

"I got permission to miss classes for the rest of the week, in case the concussion gets complicated, because I have to rest" you began, letting again the calm silence take center stage for a couple of seconds. "Then I won't be back until Monday, but maybe you can come for dinner tomorrow?"

"If you accept that as my apology for hurting you, then by all means" he took the door, allowing you to leave before him, there was still a bit of a walk to the main entrance. "Although, I would like to cook"

"Oh, I didn't know you cooked," you smiled, looking up at him. Ushijima looked down, and, you could swear he was smiling too. "If that's what you prefer, I'd love to."

The rest of the walk was quiet, and calm. Ushijima said goodbye to you after introducing himself to your parents, and apologizing again. In the rearview mirror you saw him standing there, waiting until he didn't see the car to go home.

He was really worried, and it would probably take him a few days to stop being scared about what had just happened. He was even willing to be scolded by the coach for missing two days of practice, just to make sure everything was in order.

Likewise, even if it would be a whole day before you saw Ushijima, he decided to call you just before he went to bed. And at lunchtime, because doing it earlier would surely have woken you up. He didn't talk too much, he let you talk about how annoying the doctors at the hospital had been when you went to check that everything was okay, and all the boring time you spent there.

He called back as soon as he got out of school, to make sure the details of the dinner were ready, he would bring the food, and some dessert, and, you would bring the drinks. You had to convince him though, otherwise he would have bought everything, he would have even brought plates and silverware from his own house.

Wakatoshi took the job of bringing the food seriously, as much as he could buy anything on the way home, he decided to make something himself. The menu was simple, yakisoba, yukari rice balls with an egg on top of each dish. As for dessert, he decided not to risk it, and preferred to buy those box cakes that had been quite popular lately, and, some condensed milk truffles that Tendou gave him as a gift as, he assured, you would love them.

Your parents could be quite reluctant to invite a boy to the house, but, after proposing the idea that you could clean up the picnic table you had in the backyard, where there was a space convenient enough for them to peek in just a little to feel safe, they agreed almost immediately.

During the afternoon, the question you wanted to ignore came out of nowhere, could that be considered a date, and should you dress for the occasion? It didn't seem like anything would match a forehead injury, or that anything would hide it. The result ended up being something you would wear if you were going out with friends, simple, and appropriate for the sunny day out.

Ushijima arrived exactly at the appointed time, and, reluctantly from your parents, you opened the door without them intruding. Looking at him, you failed to understand the nervous feeling that traveled from your heart to the tips of your fingers, making them tremble. Standing with a bag in his left hand, his hair slightly tousled and a bouquet of flowers in the other. Yet another gesture of apology, right?

"Hi, I brought some flowers" he pointed out, extending them. Your hand gently brushing his as you took them, white roses with green accents that made the bouquet look incredibly elegant.

"I already told you that you didn't have to keep apologizing, Ushijima" you mentioned, taking the flowers. "We'll eat outside then you don't need to take off your shoes, but let me go get a vase."

"You look good today" he spoke out of nowhere, making you look at him even though you were already halfway down the aisle. "You look good in those clothes" he seemed to be trying to smile, but you weren't sure. You smiled anyway, grateful for the compliment.

You returned with the bouquet, which would now serve as a decoration for the picnic. You could feel the intense gaze of your parents even if they tried to hide when they peeked, or, according to them, "watched" that everything was in order.

"Are you feeling better then?" he asked, looking at how simply decorated the picnic table was but somehow looked incredibly cozy, with perfect tree shade.

As was now usual, Wakatoshi didn't talk more than usual, at least not at first, he wanted to hear about how you were feeling, and how many days you would be out of school, although you assured him that you would be back to your activities by next Monday, and that, your friends would take care of sending you the homework you needed. Then the questions about him began.

You learned a lot, how he learned to play volleyball at a young age, his interest in cooking but his almost zero ability to make desserts. My mother could make some, you laughed, drinking some cranberry juice in a wine glass, your father's idea. He told you about his new interest in plants, and his father's work out of the country. Even some good anecdotes about the volleyball team.

Dessert was something completely different, by that time, she started to excitedly explain his last game, and what it was like to be in the Olympics. Although it wasn't as noticeable, you could tell in the way his lips curved into a slight smile as he tried to find the right words to define how he felt.

Reluctantly, and after offering to do the dishes, you said no, keeping the bento boxes with the promise that you would bring lunch on Monday for both of you, and now a wide smile on his face, even when he had to go home.

The following Monday came terribly slow, with the only thing that made it better being that Ushijima had not stopped her constant calls, the day possibly delayed by dark clouds heralding torrential rain.

"You don't have to keep apologizing anymore, look, even the wound has healed" you said, to Ushijima who was standing at the entrance, now with a box of the truffles you had liked so much, and which he had now made.

"I know. But I'd really like to walk with you at school" he smiled. "If you'll let me.

"I'd love to."

Life is made up of 80% causality and 20% chance, and, although you wouldn't want to repeat the literal hit of luck you received, you hadn't wanted it any other way.

Going to the gym because your friends wanted to see a cute boy on the volleyball team, having to leave early because you had things to do at home, leaving through the door you had to walk through on the court, getting hit in the head with a volleyball, only to end up walking to school with him, fingers barely brushing, a tender kiss on the cheek before he left.

Eating now inside the house, holding hands, a kiss on the corner of the lips. Waiting in the bleachers for practice to end, a number one jacket covering you from the rain.

The worst way to get to know each other, and, somehow, it seemed you were made for one another.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n #wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi icons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #hqhq server collab #hqhq server collab meet ugly

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bunchofstraydogs · 4 years ago

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Dazai Osamu character breakdown as I understand him

Meaning that this might be inaccurate and your opinion and visage of him might differ from mine, which is just fine. We perceive the world and the people around us through our experiences and expectations. I'm curious to know how you guys see a complex character like Dazai, just please respect everyone's opinions.

Warning: Manga plot mentions, s2 spoilers, BEAST light novel spoilers, Dazai Osamu

Dazai Osamu was introduced into the scene of Bungou Stray Dogs at 14 when Mori found him.

Even at that young age, Dazai had suicidal tendencies and had been wrapped in bandages similarly as he is in the present. Already dealing with too much trauma for a child his age, the fire is fuelled as he was forced to bear witness to the death of the Port Mafia boss at the hands of Mori, the person that took him under his wing. To use him; which was becoming very apparent to Osamu if he hadn't been aware since the start. Now, I'm not saying that death of the previous boss left a particular scar on Samu, he even agrees with it and is something he himself would have done. But that that is the scene that bore fruit of the following quotes:

"Or could it be that you're afraid, Mori-san? That one day i will slit your throat and take over as the boss?"

followed by

"Everyone seems suspicious to those who have an axe to grind."

This tells us right away that he can tell what type of person you are just from the way you perceive your surroundings, which is logical, but not something many think too deep into.

Even less who have their evaluations of others on point like he does. And he has to, since Dazai's plan is always to understand his allies, his enemies, possible allies and possible enemies. He also takes into account important neutral parties that can still, in one way or another, affect the outcome of his plans or decide to align with one side out of common interest. After comes realising the main goals, along with side achievements (just in case some of those maim his allies or ruin the future plans he made) of every party. Taking in their morals and motivation, and being familiar with the ground the confrontation will happen on, he now has the view of the whole chess board and it's pieces in his head. He moves his allies in the right places, knowing how they'll react in the situation to come, and awaits the enemies with open fire arms. He was tought to think like that. At all times. Mori made sure of it. You know how specialists never really stop thinking in their areas of expertise, like doctors, for example, will naturally notice people's posture and look for scoliosis or whatever? How your foot hits the floor, if you're walking straight, your knees and shoulders, etc. Same for Dazai. His brain maps out person's expressions, reactions, choices, personality, etc. in great detail. I'm pretty sure he has eidetic memory, if his conversations in manga with Fyodor are anything to go by.

Another thing his brain does is think of worst possible outcomes.

Not in a fear of what if things go wrong, but as a possible route. He uses it to determine how big of a threat the opposing force is and what steps they'll have to take to achieve that. Knowing that, he'll know how to intercept them. Also, like everything else, it's not something he can control since we're talking about thought process here and that's just how his brain works. Can't magically turn that off. It's especially annoying to him when he's genuinely enjoying himself with, let's say, ADA members and then his brain goes brrr.

•"A lot happened recently and we're a torn in many people's eyes." *Tanizaki and Atsushi drinking punch* "There's a possibility, while a small one, about 8% at this very moment, but as time goes on will increase, that an organisation outside of Yokohama decided we're an unavoidable threat and poisoned the drinks. Don't drink that. Nothing will happen, they'll wake up tomorrow in pristine condition don't drink th-"

Yeah, i feel bad for him too.

He has PTSD and insomnia, besides the hectic brain,

so he's not getting proper amount of rest. Actually, he drinks almost every night by himself at home. Pretty sure it's canon as well, because if you search for a picture of him in his room, you'll see him surrounded by multiple bottles. Two of the PTSD symptoms are hallucinations and night terrors (no, that is not the same as a nightmare). What people usually do is use opium to cause hallucinations in a safe environment so that there's little chance of them happening uncontrolled. He's probably using alcohol to numb himself while he's reminiscing, since if he does still have hallucinations after years having passed by (which isn't impossible), they're probably few and far between. Not saying there's no chance he isn't using opium. He would know where to get what he needs, after all.

Osamu's haunted by his own actions as well, not just by trauma caused to him.

At an uncountable amount of occasions, he found himself looking into a mirror and not really comprehending his image. It was like dissociation. Looking through a fog at what's supposed to be your carbon copy, but not knowing all of your features perfectly, so whatever you're seeing could only be an impostor, yet you're not sure because that would take comprehending physical proof of your life to the fullest and how it works and he just... can't. He can but he doesn't want to. He already knows he's despicable and broken, doesn't really feel the need to see just how much. He can't, for all his perfect memory, remember the faces of the people he has killed. He hadn't even seen all of them, but he was responsible for their demise. Causing havoc and misfortune in general through other crimes besides murder as well. We've seen his expression when he listened in on Atsushi talking to Kyouka over the earpiece how the 35 deaths don't matter anymore. He knows they do and he knows that the change of heart won't justify what he's they've done. Ango thought him to value each life. But he also knows that even murderers can change and become good. Oda did that. It's also what's keeping him in the agency.

When Oda died, his last words mentioned that Dazai doesn't care about good or bad and that was correct for Dazai Osamu back then. I genuinely think that his present self does mind the difference.

He believes in necessary evil and will do dark shit to get the good outcome he's envisioned.

He doesn't separate outlaws and lawful people, however.

He knows that generally speaking, the line is thin and easy to cross and that many were born or forced into the situations they are. Those that fight the life thrown at them are an exception, not a rule. That's also why he likes Atsushi, probably the main reason. The boy has every right to hate the world and yet. Dazai is envious, he doesn't really have the same capacity.

I want now to talk about why does Dazai Osamu do what Dazai Osamu does.

The reason he attempts suicide, joined the mafia, made friends at all, is because for all his intelligence and observations, ability to understand others, he doesn't really understand himself.

He doesn't understand his worth. He doesn't understand his purpose. In all of that confusion, he finds no reason to live. He laughs but can't get the high, he bruises but can't fully heal. In all of the things people find happiness in he can't feel joy from. He is emotionally stunted. He thinks too logically. He doesn't understand actions out of emotions because to him, it doesn't make sense. Emotions cloud your mind and when you're not thinking straight, you make mistakes. Plain and simple. He just accepts it, that most people simply cannot control themselves and prefer lashing out instead of methodical approach. All the better for him, he has leverage. Even when he does act on impulse, which is incredibly rare and not as explosive and dramatic, his brain rationalises it as to why his actions were a good way to go. And if his reaction was one that bore fruit, than it was a tactical one.

"If you place yourself somewhere close to raw emotions, where you're exposed to raw violence and death, instinct and desire, you can brush against man's true nature. I though that way i could find a reason to live somehow."

From this, i can tell that he was hoping that, in a situation where he's pushed far enough, he'd realise what's important to him, what he wants to protect or destroy, what's one thing he wouldn't want to leave unsettled before dying. What is that one thing he'd regret dying before achieving? What should he fight death for. What is worth living on for? To him, it doesn't matter if that something is good or evil as long as he gets to keep it in his life.

It seems he hadn't found it exactly, but is satisfied with what he has for now, in the agency, to just keep going. But he still tries to commit suicide, hoping that one day, when the clear picture of the world around him is fading away, when he's becoming light headed from the lack of oxygen, when he's loosing control over his body and thoughts don't seem to flow well, there will be one thing, anyone, screaming at him to fight it. New day new chances. It didn't happen today, better luck tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomo-.

Now, like Mori, Dazai feels the need to, at all times, be in control of the situation. Including people.

That means no one, but perhaps Ranpo due to his own abnormal intellect, is aware of their own role. They know their mission, but they're not expecting to be given that particular one because they'll come across an obstacle they would react to in a way that would satisfy Osamu's plans.

Dazai Osamu is more of a chemist, than a chess player, if you ask me.

Throwing different people into the mix, under different conditions at different times and is noting down their reactions in safe surrounding if possible, so that when the time calls for it, he'll be able to make a perfect concoction for the predicament. A chemist and his substances; A chess player and his pawns; A puppeteer and his puppets. Now, Dazai is meticulous and never rash, but like everyone else (except effin Lovecraft what is he even) he's only human and he bleeds when he falls down and humans aren't perfect. He isn't always right. That means he makes mistakes. The issue with big shot players that control the board is that, when they fall down, everyone on their side crashes and burns as well. So the day Dazai fucks up everyone else will follow because of lack of insight on their part that's completely out of their control. All it takes is for him to underestimate or overestimate one person and chaos ensues. There is no such thing as happy little accidents small mistakes for someone like him. I have crippling anxiety and a sole thought that one hiccup could blow up in everyone's face... damn. I would try committing suicide myself. But it's his fault, he brought upon himself an obligation and pressure like that. To be fair, it was Mori that drilled that type of thinking where no one should know what you plan because they can't ruin what they don't know If they turn against you, they can't stop you.

For his own sake, and everyone else's, Dazai needs to learn how to show his cards and share the burden.

Again, going back to the emotionally stunted guy that has commitment issues (where he either can't commit or can't let go) trope.

He never outright does something good for someone where people would acknowledge it, he uses his underhanded tactics here as well.

He casually makes himself look like a bad guy, an asshole, to conveniently move attention from the inner turmoil a person is struggling with to a present problem at hand that they can fix and let their frustrations out on. But he hopes that, one day, someone just might notice his intentions for what they are and do the unspeakable- see through him.

"I'm a very private person. You don't ask, i don't tell."

Yes, and your whole existence is just a huge cry for help. He wants to be asked. He's begging for attention. A specific type of attention. One that will see him without making him feel imposed on. One that will understand his sins without making a big deal out of it. Accept him as a person he is, makes him feel like one as well. Makes him feel alive. Makes him feel... period.

The day he finds that thing is the day he completely turns his life around and fully dedicates to it. It's where the part of not being able to let go commitment issue ensues.

Since Oda's death he's been secretly keeping an eye out on possible ways to bring him back. If you've read Beast AU you know that when Dazai gets his hands on the book, he'll create a universe where Oda doesn't die. Should he find an ability user that can bring back the dead, just tell him what it will take, he's ready to destroy his own soul for it and if that isn't enough, well, he'll have no hesitation ruining theirs. After all, BEAST!Dazai Osamu never actually met Odasaku, he just had the memories he'd gotten from his canon self and that was enough for him to do everything he did.

He's incredibly selfish and has a weird come in but the door is a wall dynamic he rolls with in his self imposed solitude.

It's like the walls of the space in my brain are ugly and terrifying, so i closed off the entrance to keep myself in. I'm doing you a favour but please break the wall down and tell me it's okay to come out i don't want to be here-

Happy little thoughts woah woah yeah~

That's what i got from what I've seen of him. I may have missed some things, some things might prove to be wrong as the series progress further, but yeah.

There is, however, one more thing i want to put out here. Since Dazai was already like this before Mori found him, that begs to question as to why? What happened to him?

Now, since the characters are based on real people, is it crazy to say that Dazai Osamu has had a horrible childhood because of his father? Real life Dazai was terrified of his dad and was very intimidated by him. He always tried to stay in his good graces out of fear of punishment. Neither of his parents felt like a parent to him, actually. His father didn't care and his mother was often ill, but did care for him when she could. Both of them died eventually.

This could be the plot Kafka based Dazai's background on, but we'll have to wait and see.

#dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #meta #dazai osamu headcanon #dazai osamu headcanons #hc #hcs #psychoanalysis

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itspdameronthings · 3 years ago

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Going Home Chapter 5

Summary: After a pregnancy scare.Apple tries to Santi about it,but he put his foot in his mouth. this chapter is a long one!! hope yall enjoy it.

Warning: fighting and pregnancy scare

Weekend is finally here. Time for resting up from the hectic work week. Not the case for Santi and Apple. She has to work at the ER tonight,and won't be home till the early morning. Santi is babysitting his goddaughter, Mia . For a five month old she is full of energy. He is nervous to no end. Afraid he might hurt her or even give her the wrong food. Frankie gave him a list of things she likes,and what time to feed her. Not to mention her baby food. Also her blanket she sleeps with,and the baby monitor. Santi keeps telling himself” I can do this . no problem. Only two days of this. Apple would be there to help me. “ Speaking of his darling . Who has been working hard. She volunteered to work in the ER since there was a nurse due to the stomach flu. She told him that she would text him from time to time. Before the baby gets here. Went to find his guitar . Just in case he has to sing her to sleep. Or to entertain her while she is in the playpen.

Franke yells for Santi to help him with all of the baby stuff. He needs this time away. Even if it was to teach young army recruits to learn the fine art of flying. Good opportunity for his wife to have a break. Randi comes in with the little baby. Still in her carriage. Sits it on the couch. Looks so cute when she is asleep. Frankie tells Santi,” She will be fine. She just had her bottle. If she cries. Just sing something sweet can't have her grow up listening to metallica.” Santi moans,” aww come on man!! She wants to have a hip uncle.” Frankie just rolled his eyes. Before leaving. Frankie leans down to place a kiss on his daughter’s head,and tells Santi,” Thank you for doing this man. Means a lot. Tell apple jacks hope she does not work too hard.” Santi nods and closes the door very softly so it won't wake her up. He goes over to sit next to the baby. Watching her sleeping so peacefully. Thinking how lucky Frankie is. To have a child. A family. Maybe one day him and Apple can have that as well.

Apple hated lying to her love. How can she tell him that she thought she was pregnant. Took a test that did not seem right. As a nurse. She knows something is not right. Before going to work. She went to her doctor to find out what was going on.According to her doctor’s findings that Apple had a false positive. That made her feel really sad. Thought it would be a nice surprise to tell Santi that he was gonna be a daddy. Since Santi has been spending time with his goddaughter, it's natural for him to have those kinds of thoughts. As soon as she got home. She is gonna tell Santi her sad news. In hopes he does not get mad at her.

On the homefront. Santi is having baby problems. Mia was due for her evening feeding. After giving her a bottle. Santi was burping her,and she spit up on his shirt. Which took him by surprise,” Okay little one. You just made a mess on your uncle. Hope you know that I will be smelling like your dinner. Muchas gracias, little one.” After discarding his messy tee,tries to change her diaper. Thinking he got it round her small body. Picks her up,and the diaper falls down. Mia starts to pee! Poor uncle Santiago, not having a good day. Apple watched that ordeal. Puts a strain on her heart. Seeing him with her broke her heart into millions of pieces. Quietly went upstairs to their room and cried.

After giving the little one a bath.Santi looked out the window to see Apple’s jeep under the carport. That puzzled him.She always calls out to him when she comes home. Something is not right. Soon he puts Mia in her bed,and turns on the monitor, goes into their room to see his darling. Curled up into a ball.Sobbing into her pillow. He lays down behind her,” Hay mi amor, what is the matter? Hard day? Want me to get you something to eat.” She wipes her eyes,” No Santi, Not hungry”Santi brushes a few strands of hair from her face,” Don't shut me out honey. Whatever it is. We can work it out.” She sat up so she could lay her head on his chest. Take a breath,” Before work, I felt like I was gonna puke. Thinking I was pregnant . Took a test. The results were not right. Sooo.. I went to the doctor,and found out it was a false positive!! “ Santi didn't know what to feel right now. Sad that he is not gonna be a dad or she didn't let him go to the appointment with her, Lets out a sigh,” baby, why didnt you fucking tell me about this earlier! Though we were done keeping secrets! “ Apple sits up, starts to pace the floor,” You think it was hard not telling you! I was scared Shooter!! Seeing you with Mia made me think about our future. Feel that we might not have that kind of a miracle!” Santi walks over to her, pulls her into his arms.Let her cry.All he could do is hold her tight. He led her back to bed so he could comfort her. Softly sings to her so she could calm down. While rubbing her shoulder,and placing kisses there,” Apple, thought it was a sign that it is not the time for us to be parents. So don't worry about it so much. We have a little one in the other room we can practice on till then. Won't hurt to keep trying to make a baby.” Apple tried not to get mad,” Santi! You sound like it is your mission to make a baby!! Maybe I don't want to try to get pregnant right after the most sad event of our lives!!” He really put his foot in his mouth again.Caused Apple to get up and go outside so she could be by herself.

After the loud outbursts from the adults. Mia started to cry. Like a flash . Santi rushes over to her, picks her up. Rocking her as he walked around the room looking out the window sees his other baby. Sitting under the huge oak tree. How could he say that to her? All he wanted to do is to make her laugh.Not to make her mad. That thought was dashed when Mia started to cry again,” Guess I just screwed up yet again little one. I love your aunt so much. She is the one for me. Always have been. Not ready to be alone again. Afraid she might leave me. “ She reached to touch his rough cheek. That made him tear up. Soon as he puts the little one back to bed. He calls the one person he could trust.

Apple was not doing better either. So many emotions to deal with.Sad about the test results, mad about Santi’s bad choice of words about making babies. Maybe she is not ready for that. Hoping he would understand if they took a break from having sex. Too many things to think about. So she takes out her phone,and calls Lizzy. After a couple of rings,” Omg! What did Doc Bailey say? Are you or are you not pregnant? “ Apple sobs,” It's a false positive! Told Santi about it. He was so hurt about the news ,and pissed that I didn't let him go to the appointment. Then he had the audacity to say that he wants to keep trying to have a baby! After what I went through. Maybe I don't want to rush that just yet.Lizzy sighs,” Honey, have you two ever talked about having a baby? If not? No time like the present to do this. He loves you so much girl! “ Apple took her friend’s advice to heart. Looked up to see Santi watching her from the upstairs window.

Santi was on the phone with Frankie. Pacing around like a caged animal. He is beyond scared. Frankie said,” Dude! Number one you really put your size 10 foot in your mouth. Sometimes you need to see this situation through her perspective. Apple jacks is scared. Just love her Santi, just love her. Show her that there is more to your relationship that just sex. I know that is not the case.I forgot. We are coming home early. Weather is going to be bad tomorrow. “ Santi sighs,” Are y'all in town?” Frankie says,” we are at the diner. Why don't you bring Mia with you. So we can have a family dinner. Might do you some good.” Soon as he got off the phone with Frankie. Packed up a sleeping Mia,and put her in her carrier. Little does that he know. Apple is gonna join them too. Randi just got off the phone with Apple. Both of them are about to walk into an ambush.

Soon as he got Mia all situated in his truck. Noticed Apple’s jeep is gone. Pays no mind to it. Thinking she might have gone out to get something. While driving. He was thinking about the time they spent together. Got him to tear up again,” Come on Santi! Focus! Do what Fish said “think about her feelings . then sees Apple’s jeep! Thinking she is there to get some take out. No! Sees her with both Randi and Frankie! Broke his heart to see her leaning on Frankie’s shoulder . Crying. Santi takes a breath, goes inside, takes a seat behind them. Frankie nudges his wife for her to look behind her,'' See you made it safely. Give me my baby! OH have I missed you! Wearing a small Metallica tee? Santi really.” Apple looked up from Frankie’s shoulder. Caused her to bail. Santi punched his friend’s shoulder,” This was a setup!! What is the deal! “ Randi speaks up,” Call what you want. You two have an issue that needs to be dealt with! So go!” Santi went outside to catch up with Apple. As soon she gets inside of her jeep. Santi knocks on the window,” sweetheart, I want to tell you that I'm a dick about your feelings. Never wanted to hurt you. Talking to our friends made me realize that. Yes, being with Mia made me think about us having a family. Something we never had the chance to discuss. So let's do that okay? Come out so we can figure out what to do.``Apple got out of the jeep,and Santi pulls her close.Rocking her back and forth. After a few moments, she finally calms down. He kissed her tears that fell onto her cheeks. Apple whispers” Glad that you finally see what my mind was going through. Yes, we have never discussed the family thing,I want the same thing,but lets not try to make it the reason for us to have sex Santi. Give me time to process this. Then we could start again. Can you do that for me Santi? Can you wait?” Santi placed both of his hands on her cheeks,” Of course mi amor anything you want. Was afraid that you would leave me! Could bare the thought of that tore me up. “ she kissed his lips, tasted the salty tear,” Why would I do that? We had another fight. So what! Couples fight. So let me get through your thick head Mr. Garcia. I'm not going nowhere!” He pulls her towards the diner and sees Frankie giving him a thumbs up sign.

#triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac

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