#that's the point where continuity fails for me
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Recently I decided to go to my local fighting game tournament.
Here's how it went.
I had been getting pretty good at Guilty Gear over the past few weeks, to the point where I was getting the input correctly for the Potemkin Buster 1 out of every 4 or 5 times I tried it. So I thought "I might not be the best yet, but, surely good enough for my local" -- and I decided to go.
It took place at a the comic & games store in the town center. The venue was full of people 10-15 years younger than me and even more drastically cooler. They all turned to glare at me as I walked through the door, but as I stood completely motionless like a gazelle hoping to blend into the grassland, their gazes slowly returned to each other and they continued to banter friendlily.
I sat down next to me first opponent, and reached out to shake their hand. They looked down at my hand, and then up at my eyes slowly.
"You're supposed to do that at the end of the match."
"Oh, s-sorry"
I got perfected twice and lost the match. At the end, I reached out again to shake their hand, but they just stood up and walked away.
Because I lost, I got moved down to the loser's bracket, which was literally below the main tournament because it took place in the basement of the comic shop. I could hear footsteps, cheering, and happy conversation in the floor above. Here in the loser's bracket though, the mood was a lot more somber.
My next opponent reminded me a little bit of me. They were equally nervous and disheveled looking. They said "Um, h-hello" and reached out their hand for a handshake as they saw me approaching. I said "you're s-supposed to do that at the end of the match." But as a look of deep sadness came over their face and they slowly put down their hand, I pulled them in for a hug.
I'm not sure why I did that.
I think that some part of me knew that, in this dark, dank, alien place, illuminated only by a single failing ceiling light and the neon glow of a few arcade machines, I had at last found a friend -- someone I understood, and who might understand me too.
They hugged back.
I lost that match by a very narrow margin, and as they jumped up and began dancing around and cheering ecstatically, I began to hate them. This was no friend of mine. A friend would not do this to me. After they were done dancing, they reached out to shake my hand. After a few seconds of pause, I stuck out my hand too, but didn't look at them and refused to close it around theirs as they grasped it. They shook my karate chop.
I thought that at that point, since I had lost and then lost in loser's bracket, I was free to go home. But one of the tournament organizers approached me and informed me that I was going down to sub-loser's bracket in the sub-basement of the store, and pointed me towards a descending staircase.
The people there were fewer, and it was darker. I could faintly hear sobbing in one of the corners, but as I went to investigate, another participant put his hand on my shoulder. He furrowed his brow in a look of pain and shook his head slowly.
"You can't do anything for them."
In sub-loser's bracket I went up against a man in a suit whose face was cloaked in shadow. He spammed May's dolphin move. I lost.
As I went to go back upstairs, one of the tournament organizers held out her palm to stop me, and pointed towards a staircase leading further down instead.
Going down through the levels, I lost to many interesting participants. One player played exclusively by bashing the controller against his face. One player was a mushroom with a few circuit cables clipped onto it, that I later learned was able to play because its bioelectrical signals got sent to a machine that interpreted them as fighting game inputs. One player didn't touch their controller at all, but instead just told me their life story, which was so tragic that I picked up their controller and won for them.
Finally, at the very bottom floor, where construction standards were long abandoned and the stairs and walls were just messily carved out of the earth's stone, I faced my final player. It was a small bit of metal framework, with a controller nestled in it. On it was a tiny piston that just pressed the jab button exactly once every second. I lost.
I hung my head for a moment, then said "close game" and stuck my hand out for a handshake, before remembering that I had played against a metal framework cube with a piston in it and retracting my hand slowly. Then I heard a slow clapping from the darkness.
"No neutral. No footsies."
Out of the darkness slowly walked a woman about my age, clad in a decorative poofy dress that looked more expensive than my entire life savings. She smiled at me warmly, continuing to clap slowly, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"No meter management. No mixups. No spacing. No learning. No strategy…
…You're perfect."
"Wh-what?"
"You're perfect. I absolutely must have you."
"Have me for…um…for what…"
(Her eyes went wide as her smile grew more manic.)
"WHY, MY MORON FAILSON HAREM OF COURSE."
"Um, I-I"
"Tell me, what do you do for a living? Let me guess, you work at a fast food restaurant? Or, retail?"
"No, I'm a--I'm a comic artist."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Oh my god, you are PERFECT. What will it take to get you."
"To-to ge--"
"You would be well taken care of, of course. 3 Michelin star dining for every meal. Only the finest, softest sweatpants and sweatshirts, pre-stained with whatever flavor of Takis your little heart desires. You would have access to the entire mansion except for the main foyer when I'm in business calls, and you could make all the comics and play all the fighting games you want."
"I'm uh--"
I knew that I had to think fast here.
"I'm already i-in a moron failson harem."
"Oh, DARN IT!! TELL ME, WHO IS IT??? WHO GOT YOU??"
"I-I think I'm not allowed to s-sa--"
She stomped her foot petulantly, her shoe clacking against the stone floor.
"WAS IT SHUXUAN?? IT'S ALWAYS SHUXUAN HOGGING ALL OF THE GOOD ONES."
"I-I'm sorry," I blurted out, shuffling along the wall to make a wide radius around her and then running up the staircase.
As I got home and began making my standard dinner of Trader Joe's microwave falafel, I thought about her offer. Maybe I should have taken her up on it after all. A 3 Michelin star meal right now wouldn't be so bad.
Then I hopped on Guilty Gear and lost 22 matches in a row.
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Love Drunk
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1k
Warnings: being drunk, fluff
Summary: Spencer takes you back home after you drank half the bar.
Square Filled: “do you think we were going to have sex?” (2021) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
You're normally not the girl that goes to bars and gets wasted but this has been a really hard week for you. You almost got an innocent person killed when Hotch allowed you to take point, your debit card got stolen on Monday so you had to freeze your account while you wait for a new card to come in, your car got a flat tire, and your mother keeps calling to visit you. You love her but she is truly a bitch. She only wants to meet to pinpoint everything you’re doing wrong and you don’t have the energy for that.
JJ, Emily, and Penelope offered to take you out to let some steam off but they didn’t know you were going to go as far as to drink half the bar.
“Should we do something?” JJ asks.
You’re practically on top of the bar counter, shaking your ass and reaching for another bottle of alcohol. They have never seen you like this so they don’t know what to do.
“We created a monster,” Penelope says.
“The next round is on me!” you yell and a cheer sounds from the barn counter. “Bartender, another round!”
“Okay, I’m doing something. JJ, call Spencer and have him come down here,” Emily says. She walks over to you and you grin widely when you see her. “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Emily! You’re so pretty. Guys, look how pretty she is! And she’s single!”
“Okay, you’re done. Come on, let’s get some water in you.”
She grabs you by your waist and drags you off the bar counter. You fall into her with a giggle and she gestures for Penelope to help her. JJ is off to the side calling Spencer so Penelope rushes over and the two of them hold you up.
“We’re never doing this again,” Penelope says.
“He’s on his way,” JJ says and walks over. “Did you get water in her?”
“No water! More alcohol!” you giggle.
All three of your friends support you and bring you to the front of the bar where your jacket is. You drove here but JJ will take your car and bring it to you tomorrow. She takes the keys out of your pocket and grabs your jacket as Penelope and Emily bring you outside.
“Where are we going next? We should go to the Space Needle!” you gasp.
“That’s in Seattle.”
“Yeah, let’s hop on a plan right now and go there.” You gasp again. “No, we should go to Niagara Falls. We could take a train right now to New York!”
“We’re never letting you drink this much again.”
“What? I’m a hoot to be around. I’m pretty fucking fantastic,” you pout. You look up and see Derek’s car pull up in front of the bar. “What’s Derek doing here?” Spencer steps out from behind the wheel and a big smile returns to your face. “Spencer! Baby!”
“I’ll put her things in the car,” JJ says.
“You let her drink the whole bar?”
Emily passes you off to Spencer who has to practically carry you.
“Our mistake. She kept crying about her week and before we knew it, she was doing shots with everyone inside. Don’t worry, we covered the bill for her,” Emily says.
“Thanks.” Spencer picks you up bridal style and brings you to the car. JJ opens the passenger door and Spencer gently sets you inside. He makes sure you’re buckled up before closing the door. “Thank you for calling me.”
“Anytime. I have her car. I’ll give it back tomorrow.”
Spencer departs from his friends and gets behind the wheel. You’re playing with the settings of the air conditioning.
“You are trouble.”
“You love me,” you grin.
Spencer starts the drive home while you continue playing with the settings of the car. You start babbling about work and why you were drinking so much, and Spencer stays silent and listens to you. Drunk!You is so cute and amusing. He looks at you to see your eyes wide and arms failing as you explain your story and he can’t believe that you’re all his. Youmarried him. He’s so lucky.
The second Spencer gets you into the house, your entire attitude changes. Maybe it’s because you know you’re alone or maybe it’s because you feel safe inside your own home but you pounce on Spencer as soon as the door is closed. You press kisses to his neck but he tries to get you off him.
“No, we can’t,” he groans.
You hop off him and stumble into the kitchen. You open the cabinet where you know the alcohol is but Spencer immediately pulls you back before you can grab a bottle.
“No, Spencer, we need a drink.”
“No, it’s time for bed. Come on.” You don’t move from your spot so Spencer steps into your space, and you smirk thinking he wants something more from you. “Are we going to do it right here? I’m always ready for you. Bend me over right here.”
“No.” Spencer’s brow furrows. “Do you think we were going to have sex?”
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
Spencer leans down and picks you up by your thighs, causing you to bend over his shoulder.
“Whoa!” You giggle. “You’re so strong.” Spencer takes you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed. You claw at his shirt to keep him close to you.b “Are we going to have--”
“No.”
“Why not?” you whine.
“You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not.”
Spencer holds up three fingers.
“Darling, how many fingers am I holding up?”
“Seven.”
“Okay. I need you to stay here. I will get you some water and some medicine because you’re going to hate yourself in the morning.”
Spencer goes to leave but you pull him back down and kiss his neck. He angles his head so you can’t kiss his lips. You slide your hands under his shirt but he grabs your wrists before you can go any further. He pins your hands above you and pulls his body away so you can’t touch him. In your state, you can’t fight him off.
“I said no.” He leans down and kisses your nose. “Goodnight.”
The struggle leaves you exhausted and you relax into the comfortable bed. Spencer leaves you in your club clothes and walks to the kitchen to get medicine and water for you in the morning. Where you can’t, he will always take care of you.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff
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Sunsets and footballers (Part 75)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (62) & Alexia Putellas x Character (31)
Masterlist (other parts here)
((**Just a lil one - 1.8k**))
YFN POV
“I’m sick of this, Luce.” She admitted. She’d been mindful to try not to make Lucy start overthinking everything, but at this point in time, she was truly sick of it all. “I’m sick of hospitals.”
Lucy frame dropped a little as she sat next to her. Her arm was in her lap, her thumb stroking her thigh as they waited for the results of the x-ray.
“Me too..”
The thing about Lucy is that she’s so, so protective. And YFN knew that she’d been overthinking things.
Since they’d been together, she’d been through more trials and tribulations than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. And although none of it were from faults of their own, she knew Lucy would always hold onto that responsibility. Truth be told, YFN had even worried a little bit about…
“Luce?”
“Mmn?” She responded from her thoughts.
“Please… don’t leave me.”
That got her attention. Her head turned and Lucy scanned her face with those stunning green eyes of hers, so intelligent and warm behind her clear framed glasses. “Why do you think that? Where is this coming from?” Her voice was hurt.
She leant forwards and kissed Lucy’s shoulder, her deltoid more than well-built beneath her lips. “I just know you take a lot of the responsibility for everything that's happened. It’s one of the reasons I love you… but please don’t take any blame for it all. Kristie was just young and obsessed and Mark… well we’ve just been collateral damage in the wake of everything with Mark. None of this is your fault.”
Lucy sighed, defeatedly. “But if we hadn’t met-”
“-If we hadn’t me, then I’d be alone and craving a partnership I didn’t know could exist.” She interjected. She raised her head from her shoulder and the hand that was wrapped around and gripping onto Lucy’s bicep now reached up to stroke her jaw, her cheek, and to cup her face. Lucy’s eyes fluttered closed and she leant into it like she always did. “You and me, against the world. We’re a team. Remember that.”
Lucy let out a soft chuckle; one of her favourite sounds. “Okay, little one. I like that.”
YFN squeezed her cheeks between her thumb and fingers. “Good, because you’re stuck with me, Bronze.”
“Mmn. Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” she said as she let YFN gently pull her down to her. She felt her lips become soft and yielding under Lucy’s, and although she’d meant it to be a simple kiss, Lucy tilted her head and brushed her tongue up against hers. They were in a public space, but that was forgotten now as she moaned softly into her.
It was YFN who had to break the kiss, and she was entirely unsure how she managed it as she’d been given some happy drugs and would have easily continued to keep making out with her. Especially with her tasting that sweet taste of the raspberry hospital jelly Lucy had stolen.
They were called in for the results and sure enough, the plate on her collarbone had failed and the screws needed to be realigned. He spoke about how he wanted to operate to reset it properly and ensured that it was a simple fix that he could do the next morning. He was aware that she had a check-up also for her knee scheduled and although she enquired, he insisted that he wouldn’t look at it for at least another week before she could potentially put weight on it.
“We’re going to Manchester tomorrow to see your family though…” she said to Lucy. They were left in one of the examining rooms alone to discuss it.
YFN’s phone started vibrating then and she looked down at it. Joe. She showed Lucy.
“Probably just a check-up.” YFN said.
“And she’ll want to talk about what to do with Mark.” She gave guilty smile, fully aware of how often she was on her phone for work. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be,” Lucy said with a lingering kiss on her cheek. “I also need to make a call. I’ll be back soon, little one.”
YFN answered the phone as she watched Lucy leave and the first thing Joe did was ask if she were okay. She was covering the medical bills and expenses and wouldn’t accept anything less.
And then they spoke about Mark. YFN tried to keep it as brief as possible with her explanation of events, as well as her involvement with Jordan and Leah. Catherine took it well. She’d met both women before; Jordan once after one of their wins, and Leah multiple times at events and such. Beyond that, she stated that she trusted her judgement which YFN appreciated.
As for Mark, they spoke about him, his mental state, the involvement of JK and how to best move forwards. She was expecting it to be a long conversation, though Catherine seemed to be making the phone call with her mind already set on a solution.
“I’ll meet him in person.”
“You… what? Really?”
“It’s what’s best. I’m hoping that it will also dissuade him from causing us any more trouble.”
“That is… unexpected. But if you’re sure, then I’m onboard. When will you meet him?”
“In Scotland next week. I was assuming you’d be up there for the Lionesses game, and I can find a place to meet that’s discreet.”
“Not Joanne’s home, I hope.”
Lucy walked back in then.
“Definitely not. If you’re okay with it, I’ll find a location and we can all meet there. When will you be in Scotland exactly?”
“Luce? When do the Lionesses go to Scotland?”
“The games on the 5th at night but we leave on the night of the 4th.” She said, tilting her head in question.
She relayed the information.
“Okay… I’ll work with that and let you know.”
“See you then.”
“See you then, and great work today. Let me know if you need anything at all. Take care of yourself, YFN.”
They hung up and Lucy’s head was still tilted like a puppy.
“What’s happening?”
“She’s made the decision to meet Mark in person. Now that we both know about Callie… it only seems right.”
“She can just call him instead of risking that…”
“Yes, but she fears he may still be a problem. She knows he won’t give us anymore trouble if she’s standing in front of him.”
She nodded slowly. “That makes sense actually. Finally this can all be over.”
“Finally – but I’m hoping he gets closure at some point.”
Lucy took her hand and stroked her thumb over her knuckles. “Me too, little one.”
“Mmn.” She looked down at their hands together. Hers were quite small compared to Lucy’s larger hands adorned with a few scars. She’d memorised them all and liked to trace them on occasion, along with the other hard-earned scars she had over her body. Each with a story of its own. “Who did you call?”
“Hm? Oh. Mum and Jorge.”
“Oh?”
“I told them we can’t come tomorrow and they suggested theyll come down earlier than they were planning to so we can all spend some time together. They were coming down Friday for the game anyways, but now they’re coming Thursday so we can catch up. They miss you.”
Oh, Luce. Organising things so she didn’t have to. Always trying to make her life easier. “I miss them. And thank you for doing that… I’m really tired after the last few days and I just want to sleep tomorrow.”
“Well you’ll definitely be sleeping during the surgery…”
“You think we should do it? Tomorrow morning?”
“Are you kidding? No question. We’re getting you on the path to recovery as soon as we can. I know injuries, love, and procrastinating over them only makes it worse and extends the recovery period.”
Lucy was passionate about it, and she loved that.
“So I can have the full day off tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow and Wednesday. Then we have my family Thursday, and the game on Friday. And then I believe the girls want to go out for dinner after the game.”
“The whole club?”
“Yep,” she said as she stroked her hand and YFN was interested in the fact that she couldn’t read her expression. “Family and friends.”
“The game’s at 7:45pm which means we won’t be anywhere until at least 10pm after everyone showers and dresses.”
“Mmn – it’s already booked, little one.”
She smiled. More time with Lucy’s friends and family. “I’ll be there. Just look for the one in the wheelchair.”
They finished up at the hospital and headed back to Lumos with some more happy drugs in YFN’s system. They ended their day there bantering with friends, networking, creating content and eating the food they were previously deprived of. Although it was a tough choice to make, her favourite interview of the day was a pet interview she did in English with Alexia and Chiquito, Lucy and Narla. She loved the dynamic, not only between the footballers but the animals. They’d met a few times before, and so they acted towards each other very similar to Alexia and Lucy. She couldn’t help but wonder though about Chiquito and how Ridley had left him behind. He was her heart. She’d be missing him right now. And Alexia. And herself.
She wondered if she should reach out and decided against it. She was the only person who knew how to get hold of Ridley because she trusted her and knew she wouldn’t do that. She’d respect her privacy. But also… know when to push.
But was sending her a photo of Chiquito taking advantage of that? She took the photo of Chiquito and Alexia as she sat cross legged and he sat between her legs, his tail wrapped around himself as he leant back to look up at her with those loving eyes. It was a beautiful shot. Alexia was actually smiling in it as she stared down at him with adoration.
The two looked the perfect pair the entire day, including when she and Ona left for the apartment. She wondered if she’d leave, and was disappointed at the thought that it would be very soon. She really liked Alexia.
After Alexia left, people started trickling out and both YFN and Lucy ended the day with help from a few friends. Beth’s loud voice was a great asset. When everyone but a few Lumos staff were gone, they eventually saw themselves out. YFN couldn’t help but notice the Lumos player wall on the way out which was now overrun with players’ signatures. Staring in the very middle with one Lucy Bronze. 2. 15.
By the time they were home, she missed dinner and instead fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
#woso#womens football#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso soccer#engwnt#lionesses#lucy bronze#woso x reader#woso smut#alexia putellas#jordan nobbs#leah williamson#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze x reader#ona batlle#barca#fc barcelona#barca femeni#barcelona femeni#fc barca#arsenal women
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The good part about being injured was the popsicle.
The bad part was literally everything else. Dick's chest hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, worse than any bruise or scrape or bump from the numerous falls he'd gone through at Haly's, during practice for a show, or playing outside, climbing trees and vaulting across playgrounds. Never bad enough to need to go to a hospital, just band-aids and warm wash cloths and ice packs.
We should tattoo a band-aid on you, it would save us time and money, his dad would say every time Dick scraped his knee, which was every other week. And his mom would brush the hair back from his forehead, kiss his cheek with a warm hum, and sneak him a popsicle even though it was Wednesday and he wasn't allowed sweets on weekdays.
Another pang of pain flared in Dick's chest, and it wasn't his ribs this time.
And Bruce freaking poking right where the pain was at its worst did not help at all.
"Ow," Dick yelped, scowling at Bruce.
"I'm sorry. I need to examine you." Bruce continued pressing gentle fingers to Dick's side, moving along the bones and the edges of the blooming bruise. "Is it hard to breathe?"
"No," Dick said, lips wrapped around his strawberry popsicle. "Just hurts a little. If I breathe deep."
"Where does it hurt the most? Here, or here?"
Dick used his free hand to trace the throbbing center of pain. Bruce nodded and reached for his hand, slipping a small plastic clip with a tiny screen onto his finger. "Um, what's that?" Dick asked, watching numbers appear on the screen of the clip.
"Pulse oximeter. It measures the oxygen saturation in your blood." Bruce was now pulling a stethoscope out of a set of drawers. He'd shown Dick how to use one a few weeks ago, slipped the ear pieces into Dick's ears and placed the little disc on his chest so Dick could hear the slow, steady drum of his heart. Bruce was leaning forward to place it on Dick's chest now.
"Can you at least wait until I've finished my popsicle?" Dick said, sullen, trying not to squirm as the cold metal slid across his chest while Bruce told him when to breathe.
"You can multitask. It's a useful skill to have. Lean forward," Bruce instructed, and repeated the procedure on Dick’s back.
"I'm okay," Dick said, because Bruce was the acting like like he'd crashed straight into a concrete ledge instead of Dick. He'd been practicing hand flips in the garden, and he'd stumbled on a cracked tile and fallen and hit the side of his chest on a stone flower bed. Ugh, how embarassing. His first injury after he moved in with Bruce, and it wasn't even as Robin! And still, Bruce had whisked him down to the Batcave's medbay, promising him a popsicle in exchange for being allowed to check him out.
"Yes. I just want to make sure," Bruce said, worried frown still firmly in place. He was scrawling notes on a chart, because he was a freak like that and needed to document the fact that Dick was clumsy enough to get himself injured playing in the garden.
Dick sighed and licked off the last bit of the popsicle, and the juice that had dripped onto his fingers.
The sound of something large being wheeled closer made Dick freeze. He looked up towards Bruce, who was bringing some sort of machine to the gurney Dick was laying down on.
"What are you doing?" Dick asked, alarm bells ringing in his head over the whirring and humming of the strange machine.
"This is a portable x-ray device," Bruce explained while he manipulated the machine into position. "I need to take an x-ray of your chest."
X-ray? That’s what they used for broken bones, wasn’t it? Crap, did that mean he broke his ribs?
“But I’m fine,” Dick said, trying and failing not to let his panic bleed into his voice. “I don’t need it.”
Bruce paused, hands on the handles of the machine’s head pointing it towards Dick’s chest. He peered down at Dick. “It’s just an x-ray. It’ll take me two minutes.”
“You don’t need to,” Dick said, accidentally raising his voice. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“Dick,” Bruce said gently. He hesitantly put a hand on Dick’s reached forward to brush the hair off Dick’s forehead. “It won’t hurt, you won’t feel a thing. It’s like a big camera that lets us look inside your chest.”
Dick stared up at what must be the lens of the camera. He bit his lip. It didn’t look like it would hurt. “How does it work?”
“This”—he touched the head of the machine—“sends out x-ray beams. They go through your body and this plate catches them, creating an image.” He held up a wide, black plate. “So I need to place this under your chest.”
“What are x-ray beams?”
“We can do a radiation physics lesson tomorrow, if you like. For now I need you to lean forward for me.”
He did, and let Bruce place the cold, hard plate behind his back. It wasn’t comfortable, but Bruce had said two minutes. He could handle two minutes.
Bruce put on some sort of black apron, and attached a broad collar around his neck. “Lead protection,” he explained to Dick, and then he was standing back and held up a remote that looked like the trigger to a bomb. “Ready?”
He nodded.
“Breathe in.” A buzz and a louder whirr. “And we’re done.”
Dick opened his eyes. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Oh. That wasn’t so bad,” he admitted, leaning forward again so Bruce could remove the plate and put away the equipment. "So,” Dick said once Bruce returned to his bedside. “Are my ribs broken?"
"I don't know. Probably not." Bruce was writing something down in the chart, but the line between his eyebrows was the familiar I'm-Concentrating frown instead of a Oh-My-God-You're-Hurt frown, so Dick felt more annoyed than upset for the moment.
"What?! What do you mean you don't know? What was the freaking point then?"
"I needed to check your lungs. Rib fractures can be hard to see or even undetectable on chest x-rays."
"Oh. So my lungs are okay, then?"
"As far as I can tell. I'm no radiologist."
Dick rolled his eyes. Good thing Bruce wasn't a doctor, because his bedside manners sucked. "Hmph. Well, you owe me another popsicle. Since I let you do an x-ray on me."
Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, and Dick just barely caught the quirk of his mouth before he smoothed out his expression again. "You drive a hard bargain, chum. Strawberry or pear?"
"Strawberry. Duh."
-
a/n: this is 50% due to @froizetta asking me about rib fractures for her fic, and 50% due to a patient i had last week: a young girl around dick's age who started sobbing as soon as i called her name for her exam, and who continued loudly sobbing throughout the two minutes it took to take a single x-ray of her hand. she was terrified, hospitals and medical tools and big machines can be scary to little kids! i work with a large variety of patient groups and kids are definitely the ones i struggle the most with, so this writing exercise also has professional merit (<- me making excuses for self-indulgent fic)
#the genius of posting this on tumblr is that i don't have to come up with a title#my fic#dawn post#robin#dick grayson#batman#bruce wayne#dc#dc comics#fan fic#fan fiction#ficlet#postfic
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I love you meta posts! I've been curious to here other peoples opinions on whether or not Killua every truly believed that Kite was alive. Part of me believes he just went along with Gon not wanting to admit it to himself.
Thank you so much, and this is a great topic to dig into!
To truly understand the answer, we need to back up a bit.
When Pitou appears in front of Gon, Killua, and Kite, Killua knocks Gon out and flees at Kite's urging, as well as out of his own terror. However, almost as soon as Killua flees, he realizes they screwed up by coming along with Kite to NGL in spite of the warnings they received:
After he flees, Killua encounters Knov and Morel (along with Netero), fellow Hunters who he can tell are very strong. He's mocked and insulted for his decision to flee and told he's a failure.
Killua is aware of his own tendency to flee when faced with an opponent beyond his ability to handle. He isn't aware of the needle at this point, however, so he likely interprets this tendency as simply his own personal failing--something that makes him unworthy of someone like Gon, who pushes onward no matter what obstacles are in his path.
He must have been worried about what Gon would say when he woke up--after all, Kite is Gon's mentor and someone who means a lot to Gon. Killua was beating himself up for what happened, both their decision to go along with Kite and his decision on both of their behalf to flee. I believe Killua thought Kite was dead at that point. It's a reasonable expectation because he saw Kite lose his arm, and he was overpowered by the sense of how strong Pitou was.
And then Gon wakes up, and rather than criticizing or being upset with Killua, he thanks Killua for making the decision to flee and expresses this very naive but overpowering optimism that "Kite is alive!" and they just have to go back and save him.
Killua is not naive like Gon is. He's someone who strategizes based off the reality of a situation rather than hope and belief that things will work out, and it makes him someone who flees when he feels he can't win (in his view, of course the needle is a big part of this). He doesn't see himself as able to become someone like Gon, who can force reality to his own will even when the odds seem insurmountable.
But here, he lets himself believe in Gon's words in spite of everything. Because he wants to believe that Gon is right. Because he wants to believe he's not the person he was beating himself up for being and that there is hope in the situation after all. That his decision wasn't wrong. That Gon can save him again and continue to lead him into the light, rather than the darkness he grew up in and knows he still harbors within himself.
He buys into Gon's perspective also because he can't stand looking into Gon's hopeful face and telling Gon what he strongly suspects: That Kite is dead, that there's no hope. Gon wouldn't accept that, Gon might reject Killua if he says that, and Killua doesn't want to dim Gon's light.
Killua was never allowed to be a kid--he grew up training, killing, working. It was only with Gon he was finally able to act his own age, play, be a normal kid like he wanted to.
And here, he lets himself be a little naive and accept Gon's perspective, let himself have faith in the world and the boy he loves.
So, ultimately I think his cynicism and realism collapses in the face of Gon's "light," but I think Killua has moments throughout the arc where doubt starts creeping in in spite of that. He pushes it down because of all the above reasons. By the point his view of the situation reaches a breaking point, it's like Gon is a boulder rolling down a hill and gaining speed, and Killua isn't able to stop him until it's very nearly too late.
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Thinking about:
The two moments in ep 1 (6:08) and ep 2 (32:37) when Jihyun is seen in the background between Jaewon and Tae Hyung/Eun Ji respectively.
The way Jaewon's taller shadow engulfs Jihyun's smaller shadow as Jaewon walks towards Jihyun on the beach in ep 2.
Yoon Won singing on the beach.
Just how fantastic Yoon Won, Ae Ri, and Jihyun's boss are.
How it looks like Jaewon drew himself and his younger brother and maybe a young Jihyun in the landscape of the Han river in ep 4.
The way Jaewon tugs Jihyun into him after putting the rucksack on Jihyun in ep 4 (7:03).
The tale of the country mouse who ran back home (ep 4)...and me wondering if it's foreshadowing a separation and/or time skip in future eps.
Jihyun keeping Jaewon's art in case he becomes famous...and me wondering if that will come back if there's a time skip/separation at the end.
The fact that the therapist is always in the same top, which might indicate that the therapy scenes are all from the same session...maybe meaning everything else that's happening are flashbacks from the time of the session...which ends in ep 5. There are no scenes of the therapy session in ep 6.
The bust on the shelf in the therapists room, with hands over its eyes...
Jihyun's dream of going to the Hanson Tower with a lover and putting a lock up there...and me hoping he'll do that with Jaewon.
The "traffic won't stop for you" sign behind Jaewon as he gets drunk in ep 5 and talks about siblings. If it turns out his brother died because he ran into the road I will throw fists.
The way Jaewon's little brother is dressed in a light blue t-shirt with something cream over the top in the flashback and then Jihyun is also wearing light blue/grey under a cream jacket in the next scene.
Jaewon's "We are always living in other's frameworks in this world". And "Don't try to get out of the box".
The silence as the credits roll at the end of ep 6.
#the eighth sense#the 8th sense#t8s#I don't gif and viki prevents screenshots so all I can do is bounce them around in my brain like a washing machine#I'm not making predictions about ep 6...#well apart from after my second watch I think the beach scene IS real#but from the point of the overhead shot of them lying on the surfboards on the beach#until them surfing again feels like it's in one or both of their imaginations#that's the point where continuity fails for me#so I think they either talk about the possibility of spending the night together#or one of them (maybe jihyun) imagines/daydreams the bed scene#and then they go back into the water where jihyun almost drowns#I think he gets taken to hospital but he's fine#jaewon however will then distance himself from jihyun because he's scared he can't keep him safe#anyway...#I also wonder what trauma jihyun has suffered because he's hinted to it a couple of times#and I don't just mean the water hazing#but we'll see#I can't believe I have to wait SIX more days to find out 😭
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Ok I get that you hate voting and fine fair. But would you stand by and do nothing in the trolley problem? How would that help anything. I just see you attach this element of approval to the act of voting, that just... isn't really there.
I'm not voting for someone supporting genocide hope that helps
#this isn't a fucking philosophy class#if we vote for biden after he gave the absolute green light to commit a genocide#do you think that they will change their minds next year?#or will they continue to support genocide because they realize that genocide isn't the last straw for voters#and nothing will ever change#and don't misconstrue my fucking hatred for biden as hating voting#I voted 'blue no matter what' last year#and this is where it got me#forgive me for being entirely fucking disenchanted and done with this entire system (sarcasm)#voting isn't doing shit#I'm going to protests to rip apart this entire system at this point#presidential elections don't mean shit vote for your representatives#they're the ones who have the most control over your fate in your state/cities#but don't tell me I have some kind of moral failing for not voting for biden just because trump will be running too#my message to the democratic party is clear: change your candidate or I'm not voting
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a large amount of time I've been spending on -untitled undefined scope original fiction project- since the last time I posted about it has been trying to develop the protagonist concept I came up with last summer or whatever into like, a character that would feel real and era appropriate.
it's fun research to do. naturally a lot of the details I assigned to her are things that I already think are cool, so it's been a lot of fun trying to trace her traits back through the relatively recent past, getting reminded of how much things have changed, or where the gaps in my intuition are, and then doing a flurry of reading to get a sense for exactly how someone like her and the people around her could have happened and what her life was probably like leading up to her present day. hopefully this results in some good good verisimilitude.
#I wrote a short story from her perspective over the holidays and then didn't know how to continue it#and then I got distracted by real life stuff for a few months#I forget if I posted about that#and then I've been picking through archive dot org for the last few weeks looking at this stuff#the last big rabbit hole was trying to get a better feel for era appropriate ts/tv subculture#the current one I'm looking at is how she would've gotten into language learning and how that would've worked#nettle has been prodding me about the setting thing lately so I've been thinking about that more too#probably the biggest hurdle by far is figuring out how I want to play that#and how I want the thing to be divided up#since the original coc scenario I'm developing this out of is centered on a flight from LA to honolulu#and the airport dungeon was definitely meant to be a hook for a larger campaign#some amount of it is going to cover protag lady's failed life in LA and some of it is going to be worse things happening in hawaii#but it's like. how much do I want to balance it one way or the other#and realistically how much does the aesthetics of 20th century air travel add to the story#besides me personally thinking it's compelling ofc#a lot of what I find compelling about hawaii is that it's an east/west cultural crossroads and realistically that's also true of socal#and I can wax poetic about socal as much as I want without worrying all that much about mishandling something#and there's also a lot of socal specific history along similar parallels to pull from that I'm more familiar with#I guess it comes down to whether curiosity re: 'doing it right' is enough of a motivator to do the increased amount of research#which I guess it has so far with the above character details. so hopefully that will continue#but it also feels like using machine translation a bit yknow. it's hard to know how effectively I'll be able to sanity check#although depending on where this goes I might be able to get other people involved to sensitivity read down the line#with most of the creative things I do I just have a tendency to always rely really heavily on figuring things out myself#I also want protag lady to have a Cool Car and idk how to get that from point a to point b narratively#this is like an entire second or third post's worth of tags but I don't feel like unfucking this so whatever. suffer. I guess.
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listen i know that the star rail girls suffer from "same character design" but i got mildly obsessed with a bit of ruan mei's design because of one particular detail and that is:
it's this particular bit where the DNA strands are joined together by the plum blossom she's named after.
in order for DNA to be replicated, it has to be unwound by a protein called helicase which then allows for the reading of the DNA to create the new strands. I felt like it was fitting that like the plum blossom unraveling the DNA in her design, she's also trying to unravel the truths of the world and get to its essence.
#was it actually intentional? who knows! but i do like the thought alskdjfahl#like idk#helicase is the first step on DNA replication - it unwinds/unzips the DNA so that another protein can read each nucleotide and produce a ne#strand#in a similar fashion ruan mei does the same trying to unravel what makes an aeon or life or etc and tries to reproduce it#utterly fails but YOU KNOW YOU GET THE POINT#anyways i like ruan mei but i think she does the same thing that a certain other scientist does for me#where im holding my head in my hands like mAAM WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING STOPPPPPP STOP GIRL STOPPPPPPP#snow plays hsr#anyways i finished the first new trailblazer continuance (finally) and i have cats :) weeeeeeee#ruan mei#ngl i wonder just how many geneticist jokes are in ruan mei's design/abilities/etc#i would crunch on them if possible but alskjdfhal i probably shouldnt fixate#hsr#im just tagging these two for myself but its fine
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I wish we got more episodes that explored Margaret and the nurses and their relationships that were like. written well
#mash#margaret houlihan#I do like The Nurses but I hate the Margaret plot line in it where it turns out she's so upset because they dont talk to her#I think it would've actually been interesting to explore that through the nurses and Margaret discussing that#and Margaret being held accountable for how awful she's been to the nurses because she has been absolutely awful to them#multiple times#but the narrative instead acts like the nurses were at fault somehow and thats where it loses me#and its especially annoying because in other episodes Margaret takes more responsibility for how she feels isolated#and acknowledges that its her own doing#just. bad writing#the episodes that deal with Margaret and the nurses feel like they miss most of the time#and there's little to no consistency in those relationships#they dont particularly improve after this episode#Margaret being awful to the nurses continues to be a plot point in multiple episodes#and even then sometimes thats like. the intended plot point#but she isnt even being that awful#like in Images I think it is when she wants to transfer out the nurse who keeps breaking down#like sorry I think she was right for that#and the episode treats her like a villain#I could write an essay on Margaret's writing when it comes to her relationships with the nurses and where it fails#saw a gifset from The Nurses and didnt want to dump all this in the tags so here's this
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i know this is a terrible awful ungrateful thing to say. but i sincerely hate my illness for not being terminal.
#i no longer have days when i wish to continue living#i went through all the childhood trauma and the failed suicide attempts#and i worked my ass off in therapy to get to a point where my brain was not a terrible place to live#and i sincerely felt happy about living and having a future#and then this happened.#and i dont know if i will ever live normally again#theres a chance im just gonna spend the rest of my life trapped inside my house numb from pain#so like. for the people who ask when im gonna post on onlyfans/reddit/whatever again: i dont know#i know you’re not asking that in an unkind way#i know its a compliment#but i truly dont know if ill even still be alive in a years time#i dont want to kms but i also dont have it in me to live my life like this#so yeah my answer to everything is i dont know and idk if i ever will know#sorry this is fuckin grim.
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I feel like the idea of "forgiveness" for people who've hurt you is like... Pretty christian based? Bc ngl. Why tf am i forgiving someone who abused me a lot. If we're talking "mental peace"... Well bud i kinda just gotta not think about it or when i do to work on my emotions around it so i can cope better with my trauma. Literally why am i forgiving people who dont regret hurting me and who would never apologize and how exactly does that bring more "peace"? Bc personally id feel like im ignoring something that bothers me a lot just so i can tolerate being around it when idk. Theres people who i definitely dont need to tolerate being around lol.
#forgiveness#quote unquote#some of these people would actively continue trying to hurt me if i was still around them and literally wtf is the use#of forgiveness then???#being unfazed by their presence seems to be the better alternative as well as ignoring them..?#or idk. literally fucking leaving the room if they arrive.#'forgiveness' is what christians do towards non christians who fail to fail to be christians. its patronizing. its assumptive.#as if those people are somehow spiritually crying out that theyre sorry. thats how christians are w forgiveness.#how tf is what id be doing if i 'forgive' my abusers any different#its 'forgiveness' with the assumption that some day the person whos hurting you or in this case simply not christian will actually#decide you were right and 'apologize' for going against them#idk about you but i dont want to live in a false reality daydream that my abuser will someday be normal and nice and empathetic#how is that a useful belief at all in the long run. im just convincing myself somethings gonna happen that wont.#i think more ppl should go about the world assuming their abuser doesnt give a fuck and never will bc quite honestly that seems more likely#ive never felt peaceful when i attmept to forgive people knowing inside im still upset with them#however i feel much more peaceful when i embrace the fact they dont care and thus i dont have to care about them either 🤷#like accepting the current facts brings me more relief than speculating on the future.#idk but i kinda refuse to forgive people who dont regret their actions towards me and who dont give af about me#if getting caught up in resentment is the issue... then you need some therapy of sorts to work on the resentment so you can get to a point#where you dont give a fuck if they do apologize. not assume someday like a pretentious asshole that theyll apologize#literally im nowhere near that important to my abusers for them to do that
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oh. i was gonna reblog the one defending toshiro too from a cultural perspective but the reblogs are off. rip
#toy txt post#dungeon meshi#not to both sides centrism it but i am gonna both sides centrism it a tiny little bit#yes toshiro shouldve corrected his name and shit. but i can also see the line of thinking that leads to not doing it?#hes probably its not a big deal he'll figure it out eventually. maybe after meeting ppl who refer to me by my name#he'll take the hint and be like oh shit wait fuck is it not shuro?#it is Hard to learn to Read The Room and even. sometimes often i think. even neurotypicals will fail that#and if you are actively bottling up the room and hiding it you really cant get That Mad. it was really#like major clash of communication styles there. exacerbated probably by toshiro running himself ragged in his search for falin?#which would make him have less of a reserve of patience to continue bottling up his frustrations and brushing it off#and he was probably trying to brush it off and Be Nice to Laois and humor him etc thinking that it wasnt a permanent situation and that he#wouldnt be living w him forever or whatever#so why would he hurt his feelings when he clearly means no harm by it? whats the point of that? it would be mean!#better to just ignore the frustrations and treat him nice and eventually itll stop being a problem! except oops it didnt stop being a#problem#i understand laois's frustration and its fair. and i also understand where toshiro is coming fro. and i understand how he got to that point#and i wonder if he hadnt been running himself ragged if he wouldve kept bottling it up? but maybe not bc its also exacerbated by#his anger at them doing black magic to resurrect falin?#which. that i dont get. chill bro its just a little black magic its fiiiiiine its the lunatic magician whos the problem! not#marcille or falin. loosen up bro#half joking about that#not to be an uncultured mon magic user or whatever but no offense but how is it really any worse than the other magic it just seemed like#magic with a little more. blood. idk guess im a Black Magic Apologist. what Marcille did is so in line w the ethics of my own personal#magic using ocs for my own shit. whats the problem. toshiro and chilchuck are just haters smh#and the whole world. poor marcille#marcille 🤝 wei wuxian. black magic support group. fuck it im inviting regina mills to it too even tho shes got other shit going on
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I've never been more sad at a show ending. one that i loved and waited for dearly week after week to bring a smile to my face. 3 months that was. when this past week hasn't been kind to me at all at that. being disabled is normal they said. as long as you keep hope for an eye donation. cause you only become normal once you can see. second chances were thrown around a lot. while forgetting they're meant for those willing to learn and repent from honest mistakes, had there been any. if i felt any better, I'd go on to write about how much i adored their wedding, mom's speech to porjai and day's bookshop. but i dont. this week has just been shitty and nothing has made it better.
Still posting, as a goodbye of sorts. I'll believe it ended at ep9. Not looking back.
#i don't even want to tag the show#and i totally get how days recovery journey still matters#that it doesn't all just disappear just cause he gained his eyesight back#but they failed at showing us that#they built characters so beautiful until ep 11 (excluding those last 10 mins)#to completely fricking undo everything#to the point where i couldn't recognise them by this last ep#i couldn't feel like i was watching mohk and day or that i was watching a continuation to the story we had in the past 10 episodes#even the failed commentary on disability aside#the ending was a mess#I've read some great posts picking it apart as to what all went wrong#but that will be it#i dont want to engage with the show anymore#aside from the happy memories and ost it gave me till ep 9#that will be it#thingamabob#aa mine
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[◉°] … Y/N & TOJI BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 537k views
⌦ 🎬 ⁺ . ❀
꩜ actor! toji x actress! reader
⤷ synopsis : you & toji deny the dating rumours, but you’re both being a little bit too comfortable with each other for your relationship to be just “platonic”.
sfw, fluff, toji is a little ooc <3
. art credits to deltapork on twitter
.. inspired by this post
… part 2, part 3, part 4
masterlists
actor!toji masterlist
꩜ first clip
you & toji are in an interview, one to promote the upcoming release of the action movie you both star in where you’re the main love interest. it is bound to be a huge success, judging by the interest and how everyone loves the chemistry you and toji have both in and out of film!
the interviewer asks you a question and while you’re responding you can feel someone staring at you. you turn to your left where toji is sitting, and he has his eyes dead set on you, not looking away for one second. you turn your focus back to the interviewer to continue answering, but you can’t help but turn back and see that he is still staring at you with his intense blue eyes. you repeat this a few times before cutting off your own sentence with a giggle and covering your face with your hands.
toji chuckles in confusion, looking at the interviewer and then back at you, bewildered. “what-whats so funny?”
you look at toji with your hands still covering your face. “toji, i can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!”
toji tilts his head, swiftly shifting his chair in your direction and leans closer to you, practically nose to nose at this point. “like what?”
“like that!” you laugh, covering your hot face once more as he and the interviewer laugh at your actions.
the interviewer chimes in. “i do have to say, your eyes can be quite intimidating..”
“see?!” you say to toji and then look to the interviewer. “thank you.”
toji huffs and just looks at you. and you look back at him with a small grin on your face.
you speak. “as i was saying…”
you repeat your response to the question and toji exaggeratedly stares at you and you attempt to ignore it (and fail).
꩜ second clip
this was a behind the scenes clip, where your cast member is speaking about his characters relationship with the other main characters but sadly for him, that is not where the viewers’ attention was.
in the background, they see toji sitting on a couch looking at his phone and then you walking into frame. toji looks up from his phone, and if you look very closely, he can be seen smiling at you. you walk over and plop down on the couch right next to him. you both talk to each other for a few moments, faces close together and then you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking what appears to be a nap. toji, moving as slowly as he can, takes a blanket that is already on the couch and drapes of over you. you snuggle closer to him, prompting toji to rest his head on top of yours. he does just that.
꩜ third clip
during an interview with you and the cast members, including toji, in front of a live audience, you somehow found yourselves on the topic of the types of cars you all have. you then remember how toji had told you about a motorcycle he owned, but you forgot which kind.
“i think i wanna ride on toji’s..motorcycle! i think-”
you hear the audience laugh and hear a few wolf whistles and you turn to your fellow actors, who are also laughing, especially gojo. you seem confused, but then you think back to what you said a second ago and feel your face heat up in embarrassment.
“oh, no no nonono-” shaking your head vehemently, “that is not-”
“toji’s motorcycle eh?” gojo teases while raising his eyebrows and wiggling his fingers, which only encourages the mockery and your desire to punch him.
you cover your face with your hand and sigh. “oh my god.”
while everybody in the room makes fun of you, you look to the left to see toji’s reaction and the camera pans to his smug smirking face.
“i mean i’m free friday night so..” he trails off, winks at you and the audience goes crazy and you shove your face in your hands.
“forget i even said anything!”
꩜ fourth clip
you and toji were recording a little vlog like video for the fans, talking about what it was like on set when you get onto the subject of what working with the other cast members is like.
“yeah gojo’s is pain in the ass.” toji states and shakes his head, fondly almost. “never stops running that big mouth ‘a his.”
spits of laughter fall from your mouth at his frankness. “uhh..yeah that’s true, gojo if you see this don’t be offended!”
“yeah we still like you we just..wish you’d shut the fuck up more often.”
“toji!” you gasp and slap his chest, “you’re no spring chicken either you know.”
toji scoffs and looks at you with a raised brow. “yeah, you’re a handful yourself.”
“what? no i’m not!” toji tilts his head and blinks. “everyone says i’m great to work with. you’re such a liar.” you roll your eyes with a laugh.
toji chuckles and moves closer to you on the sofa, and leans towards your face. “no ‘s alright. i have big hands.” he places a kiss on your cheek.
“ew, you’re so corny!” you lean away and wipe away his kiss, trying not to smile and look flustered.
꩜ fifth clip
this was a big day for y/n x toji lovers, when a movie you were both in won an award. now, neither of you were the main characters, but the fans made sure to make you both the most popular ones.
while the director is accepting the award, fans zoomed in on you and toji standing near the back of the group of cast members, where you’re tearing up and trying not to cry. you’re wiping your tears and toji looks at you and does a double take when he realises that you’re crying. he looks down at you and hugs you from the side, which makes you lay your head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. toji accepts this invitation and full on hugs you, kissing the top of your head softly and rubbing your back.
꩜ sixth clip
toji posts workout videos on his instagram stories. they’re mostly of him lifting weights and they’re rare, so fans cherish them.
and then theres a short video of you laying on top of toji’s back while he does pushups like it’s nothing. you’re smiling, spreading your arms out like you’re flying. toji suddenly starts going fast as fuck, making you bounce and almost fall off. you gasp and start hitting the back of his head while the person recording starts to laugh (most likely gojo).
you fall off toji’s back and lay on the floor like a starfish. the camera pans to a proud looking toji before you kick his face.
a/n: thank u for reading ^_-
#pls lemme know if you liked i feel like i could’ve done a little better <3#actress!reader#actor!toji#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x self insert#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x self insert#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fic#toji fanfic#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji fluff#fushiguro toji x y/n
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#angst with a happy ending#angst#grovel#jealousy
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