audrey audrey audrey

I know I'm cool and that's why people hate me

[blue1birds1singing]

'only thing bigger than my ego is my mirror'

18+/mdni - Audrey but I feel like I'm Phoebe - requests are open [I won't ever write for real people] -bi - Taivans third -perpetually perverted - I like literature - masterlist here!

fandoms: Yellowjackets, The Pitt, A Knight Of The Seven Kingdoms, House of the dragon - I think I'd write about anything if I'm asked nicely.

Bitches and hos don't exist: feminist asf - protect the dolls - fuck reform - fuck ICE - big up the green party - big up the queers - big up Zack Polanski - destroy the union - just in case you guys wanted to know my political stance - fuck AI - I <3 immigrants

© - blue!birds!singing

Do not feed anything I write into Ai Do not use anything I write for AI chat bots. You can translate what I write as long as you don't publish it anywhere without permission and credits.

This divider is from @cursed-carmine check them out cause their dividers are awesome!!!

Trump supporters DNI, reform supporters DNI, anti-immigration people DNI, homophobes DNI [that one is kind of a given], racists dni, basically if you're a bigot and you interact with my page you will be blocked because politics and human rights ARE that deep - xoxo, Audrey.

all of the dividers I use [except the ones in I Can See You] are by cursed-carmine!!1

[blue1birds1singing]

I scream, you scream, we all scream. [m.list] [prev] [next] cw: 18+ - mdni - being mean to Dennis - sucks honestly - not proof read at all - very rushed - bad babysitter reader . summary: baran's daughter has a meltdown in your care, Samira doesn't know what drag brunch is, everyone hates Dennis, and you are kinda still beefing with Trinity. superman divider from @/softhandz line divider from @/strangergraphics

“You need to relax,” you said, bouncing Cyra up and down on your hip, “is anything ever that serious?” your girlfriend’s toddler was having a full fledged temper tantrum because you refused to let her eat the fruit shaped bar of soap in her mother’s bathroom. 

So far, you had been babysitting for an hour and a half and you seriously believed it was going to cause you to have some sort of heart attack. You were growing annoyed and overwhelmed with the constant noise this child made. You wanted to text Baran and tell her to come deal with her kid because you seriously couldn’t do this anymore but you held yourself back from doing such a thing because you didn’t want her to consider you incompetent. 

Still, the toddler thought against your hold, kicking you and screaming in your ear so you eventually gave up and sat her on the ground, letting her cry herself out. You sighed, your hands going up to rub at your temples in an attempt to soothe the migraine forming. 

She continued to kick and scream on the carpet and you did not intervene. You should just let her have her emotions, right? You should let her cry until she couldn’t cry anymore because she felt like she had to cry right now. Her emotions were valid or whatever the hell all the parenting books were saying these days. For someone so little, she sure did have a lot of emotions. You eventually stepped in and attempted to stop her tantrum again when she began violently pulling at her.  

As you picked her up once again and held her tightly you wondered if you should have just let her eat the soap so she knew that she wasn’t supposed to be fucking eating it. She didn’t want to be held, you could tell by how she was fighting against you, but you read once that holding a child tightly until they calm down can help regulate their nervous system — how the hell were you supposed to regulate her nervous system when you couldn’t even regulate your own?  

You were shocked when it began to work, when she began to grow limp in your arms and her crying began to soften and turn into soft hiccups, “I-I want mommy,” she whined a little, leaning against you and pouting. 

“Mommy will be home soon, I promise,” you lied. Her mother was working late tonight but you were afraid that if you told Cyra that her tantrum would start up again. 

You released the girl from your arms and she turned around to look at you, her big brown eyes tearful and her bottom lip quivering. Her eyes moved from your face to the red mark on your arm where she had bit you earlier when you first tried to make her crying subside. 

“I’m sorry I bit you” she said, her small voice solemn and laced with guilt. 

“That’s okay,” you replied, “I’ll be all better soon.” 

“Promise?” she asked. 

“I promise.” 

Despite the fact you had just been beat up by a child who was the human equivalent to bambi, you felt weirdly joyful about the fact that she put trust in your promises — making you feel even worse about lying to her about her mother — and you decided that because she was precious and trustful you would reward her. 

“How about you go put your shoes on and we can go grab some ice-cream?” you asked, your voice taking on a conspiring tone that you found worked with children in the ED when you were trying to convince them to let you take their bloods.  

Her eyes widened, happiness sparking through her instantly. She quickly nodded her head, she was moving so fast you were worried that she would get shaken baby syndrome. She turned away from you and rushed to her bedroom, almost falling and tripping on some toys laying about the floor but managing to keep herself steady at the promise of ice-cream. 

“Wow, toddlers really do have worse mood swings than pregnant women.” you muttered to yourself, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

a/n: I'm not even exaggerating this sucks but my life has sucked recently. Hopefully I'll get more on track with posting close together. Happy July, hope ya'll had a good pride month. I wish I posted more during pride month... cause yk this is a gay ass story.

No taglist for this one because it's super disorganised at the moment but I'm fixing it as you read this. if you want to join the taglist you can find it here!

[blue1birds1singing]

whatever she wants

[taivan x trans!fem!reader: platonic]

tags: angst - hurt/comfort - fluff - internalised homophobia - internalised transphobia - gender envy - oblivious reader - Taivan being the best couple ever - mentions of ageing - mentions of getting older - depictions of growing older - reader is pre-transition - reader hasn't come to terms with being trans - reader still believes she's make through a lot of this - reader is referred to in masculine terms but not that much. [wdc: 2.9k] [based on this request]

Now that you’re older, now that your hair is greying and your insides rotting, you are constantly clinging onto the most precious of your memories with a death grip. There are things you never wish to forget, things that were so important in building the person that you became, that you could never imagine forgetting them. Nonetheless, time is a thief, stealing youth, stealing life, and stealing memories that you hold so dear. All time ever did was pass, afterall, and all you could do was try your best to remember.    

It was at night, mostly, when you would close your eyes as you lay against your plush mattress and remember the days when you didn’t know any better, when you didn’t even know who you were. Back then, you had very limited knowledge on the type of person you were allowed to be, because back then no one thought you were actually allowed to be that, allowed to be free, to be comfortable in your own body. 

They opened your mind, Taissa and Van, and it was as though they had opened your third eye to something you never before knew existed.  

You first became friends after Van threw a soccer ball at your head to get you off the soccer field. Due to underfunding, the school had to get rid of the baseball pitch and  make both the boys baseball team and the girls soccer team practice on the same field. It was beyond frustrating for both parties and you wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were. One day, the baseball team stayed over their scheduled time so you could get extra practice before a game — despite the fact it was glaringly obvious that you were going to lose — and the yellowjackets weren’t exactly happy about that. 

They stood at the sidelines while the coach of the baseball team (Coach Luis) argued with the coach of the soccer team, coach Martinez if you can remember correctly. Some of the girls on the soccer team – Jackie, Van, Taissa, and a girl whose name you can’t quite remember now — were yelling at the baseball team from where they stood at the sides, telling you to get of the field, telling you that your team sucked, telling you that you were never going to win anyway. One of the girls, the one whose name you couldn’t remember, said that they were the superior team so they needed the pitch more. “You’re going to lose your game but we’re going to win nationals,” she yelled, “get off our pitch!” 

None of it was particularly insulting to you, you didn’t care much for baseball anyway. In fact, you found their insults quite funny and it was even more humorous that the other guys on the team were legitimately getting offended. You stood there laughing as the team racked their brains to insult the soccer team back. 

The yellowjackets were legends at school, everyone knew who they were. They were like the Greek Gods that Odysseus never disobeyed. Everyone caved to their every whim like it was God's will — it was mostly Jackie who was responsible for this, her popularity infecting everyone else on the team she was in charge of  and even the losers on the yellowjackets weren’t nearly as unpopular as the actual losers of the school.   

Jackie Taylor was otherworldly but the abuse she was hurling wasn’t nearly as funny as Tai and Van. Their insults were creative and true, unlike the unnamed girl who was just stating hurtful and brutal facts. One of the guys on the team, who only joined the team because he was an idiot and needed a scholarship in order to get into college, was beginning to grow frustrated. You heard him mutter something about not taking insults from a bunch of girls before he decided to shout — 

— “unless you’re gonna cheer for us and show us your tits like a good woman would, fuck off!” your smile faltered just a little as the other guys on the team snickered and laughed at the ‘joke.’

 You turned to look at your team for a moment in order to decipher which laugh belonged to who and when you turned your head back to see why the girls had gone so quiet all you could see was a ball being launched towards your head. You were irritated before you had a chance to realise what had happened, what the fuck did you do? You were just standing there! You didn’t even laugh at the jokes. Why is this your fault and why are you being punished for it?

You had quickly learned that the girl who threw the ball was the goalie. The thing about goalies is that a big part of their job is to throw the ball really far and really hard in order to get the ball as far away from their own goal as possible so that the team they’re playing against has a harder time trying to score. 

So, the goalie, Vanessa/Van as you soon learned, had thrown the ball with all her might and all her strength. The ball collided with your head and damn near took your head off, you were knocked down onto your ass and you felt the blood escaping your nose and dripping down your face. Your hand quickly shot up to your nose so you could put pressure on it but that only made it hurt more. 

The guys on your team, as well as the coaches, surrounded you to make sure you weren’t concussed and you were forced to go to the nurses office. Van and Tai had gone with you, perhaps because they felt bad that Van had broken your nose — yes, she actually broke your nose. 

While sitting on the comfortable medical bed in the nurses office, Van kept trying to crack jokes to cheer you up and Tai kept shooting her dirty looks that were laced with frustration and also… affection? The adoration you saw in Van’s eyes was one that was so blatant, so true, and so pure. You knew, and at first you weren’t sure if they knew too or if they were completely oblivious, but then Tai smiled at one of Van’s jokes and the latter smiled back, a small smile laced with shared adoration. It was like they were the only people in the world. It was like they had a secret unbeknownst to the rest of the world and they were secretly bragging that no one else was noticing it — you noticed it. 

And you have all been friends ever since! 

You knew what you were, at least, you thought you knew what you were. Gay. You liked boys in the way you were supposed to like girls. They liked girls in the way they were supposed to like boys. And, for the first time ever, you knew that you were allowed to be yourself in front of them and that they wouldn’t depict you as a pervert the same way your friends on the team would. You remember voicing this thought to them once when you were hanging out at the park and Taissa said “then they’re not your friends.” 

It was all sunshine and daisies at first, you were more than happy to have friends you could be yourself around, you felt as though you were finally seen for the first time in your life, as though you had just woken up from living a life that wasn’t yours. And then they started acting a bit weird…. 

When you did or said something particularly flamboyant, they would look at each other as though they had a secret they couldn’t tell you, and this time, you couldn’t even decipher what it was. They’d laugh, you’d go quiet, but you never questioned it. At the time, you weren’t sure why you were so reluctant to question them, now that you’re older you realise it’s because you already knew the answer and didn’t want to have to face it. You weren’t ready. 

Sometimes, Van would push open the door for you and Van and say “Ladies first,” with a flirty smile on her face, the first couple of times you thought that Van was primarily showing off for Tai, but after the seventh time she basically snatched the door from you, you began to notice the pattern. You thought she was making jokes about you being gay, and quite frankly, a little bit feminine. You pushed her joke away with a small laugh and pretended it wasn’t utterly frustrating you. 

A lot of what Tai and Van did frustrated you. 

One time, you were dragged to Taissa’s house by Van and Tai because Van wanted to watch ‘Show Girls’ and Tai had just gotten it on VHS. You ended up not enjoying the film, but Van loved it, and you ended up having fun anyway so you were willing to look past the shitty movie when you recalled the memory. 

Van was sitting criss-cross on Taissa’s bed, eyes focused onto the screen as though the movie gods weren’t willing her to look away and you were sitting on the floor leaning against the bed watching Taissa do her makeup across from you. It was quite intriguing, to say the least, because you couldn’t help but wonder what everything was for. Why was she layering these things on her skin? Why was she making her cheeks pink? Why was she making her eyelids blue? And what was she putting on her eyelashes? 

She must’ve seen you staring so intently through the mirror she was holding as she dapped the makeup onto her face because a small, knowing smirk, took over her face. She seemed to move faster then and a wave of guilt washed over you. Had you made her uncomfortable with your constant staring? Had you made her feel embarrassed? Maybe that smirk wasn’t a smirk and instead it was a smile of awkwardness. 

All of your fears of violating your friend's boundaries went away when she finished the final step, turned around to you, and said “you know, you’ve got very smooth skin.” with a glimmer of playfulness showing in her eyes. 

“Thanks…?” you said, unsure of yourself and suspicious of what she was planning. 

Van had finally looked away from the TV screen to look at you and Van, the confusion on her face perfectly mirroring yours. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one suspicious of Taissa and her antics. 

“And you’re really pretty for a boy,” she said, putting emphasis on the word boy almost making it seem as though she was being sarcastic and you almost sighed. You expected these kinds of jokes from Van but not so much from Taissa, she tended to take things more seriously than her girlfriend who just liked to joke and laugh all of the time. She smiled like she was proud of herself, “you could always be prettier though.” 

The realisation struck you like a bolt of lightning, your eyes widening in shock at what she suggested. “No! No way in hell!” you exclaimed, “there is no way you are doing my makeup.” 

But instead of backing down, her smile just widened, and ten minutes later you were sitting there on the floor  like a good little pup as she applied product after product to your face. Even now, you have no idea how she managed to convince you. It was no surprise that she turned out to be a real-good lawyer and also a fibbing politician. 

Van had returned back to her movie, not paying much attention to the ‘torture’ you were being put through. Weirdly, you didn’t entirely hate it. You were a man, you weren’t supposed to be wearing makeup like this. Whenever you said that though, you’d receive dirty looks from both  Van and Tai — Tai who would then list men who were actually quite popular for wearing makeup. David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Robert Mapplethorpe, Robert Smith, Mick Jagger etc.  

You did feel pretty, though, and you quite enjoyed the relaxing feeling that came with Taissa pampering you. After a while, when she was sure Van wasn’t paying attention, she began murmuring sweet words to you as she stayed focused on your makeup, “admitting who you are can be hard,” she had said, her voice gentle“but living a secret will be much harder. Would you rather die as yourself, as someone who is brave enough to exist in this world being different, or would you rather die as a coward who was too afraid of what others would think about who she is.” 

‘Who she is.’ she had said. 

She. She. She. She. 

And you remembered those words better than you remembered anything about your teenage years because it was the first time you had been forced to face something you had practically ignored for as long as possible. 

Her words were like lullabies. Like a poem. They weren't especially profound or deep, they were even a bit stereotypical and overused, but they shocked you to your very core. They made you feel sick in a way you weren’t able to get passed. You had felt as though, for the first time in your life, you had been perceived and you really didn’t like it. It was like getting changed in the locker room for the first time, it felt so bizarre and revealing. Except this was different, because it revolved around you and Taissa and the girl you wanted to be.  

‘Who she is.’ 

Before you had a chance to respond to Taissa’s words — if you even could — she began talking again. Something about wanting to put you in her clothes to get the full effect. You would’ve said no, spewed your words about being a man again and about how you shouldn’t be wearing makeup. But you didn’t feel like a man at that moment, you weren’t a man, and you were grateful to Taissa for shocking your brain and letting you know that she was okay with who you are. So, instead, you smiled and nodded, letting her drag you up from the floor and search through her closet for the best clothes to put you in. 

That was one of your fondest memories, the one you would grip onto for dear life even as you greyed. 

Time passed, seasons changed, and you drifted apart. You never saw or heard much from Taissa or Van after their plane crash, but you weren’t too offended because you knew they didn’t hear much from each other either. You visited them once the summer after they came back from the wilderness, when they were still together and working through all of the things they had seen and witnessed. It was a short visit, only an hour, and you could tell that they weren’t the same people they were when they left, and that was okay, you made your peace with that because you weren’t the same person either. 

You had come to terms with who you are as a person, you changed your name, started the most important journey of your life, made friends you knew wouldn’t judge you for being you, and studied so hard that your hands were going to fall off. 

They had experienced something dark, something awful and unspeakable. You never asked what they did in the wilderness because you already knew, everyone already knew, but you also knew that it was a game of survival and they would’ve done anything to live, to survive, to come back to the families and to reintegrate with the world again despite the fact they had witnessed horrors they couldn’t speak about. 

Despite the fact that you drifted away from each other, that the trauma’s they had faced were too complex to work through, you would love them forever, until your dying breath. Some people enter your life, even for just a short while, and change it with just a few simple words that wouldn’t matter to anyone else. Tai and Van had changed your life

And now they were strangers whose laughs you could probably recognise from across the street, and for some reason, you found yourself being perfectly okay with that.

The End. 

A/N: 1. this is not edited properly because the edits I did didn't save and I was too lazy to redo them. 2. HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!! 3. I'm not a big fan of the ending but I feel as though it was the only one that fit.

[blue1birds1singing]

I love Taissa Turner so much but I hope she gets served the divorce papers in season four.

[blue1birds1singing]

I finished my Taivan X f!trans!reader fic and I think I made it a bit more angsty than I had originally intended...

[mishunss]

sad wednesday

[blue1birds1singing]

cause this just straight up has me tweaking

[blue1birds1singing]

there is so little Van/Tai or Taivan content I'm so happy that you write for them!! it feels weird to see that the canon lesbians get so little attention in this fandom... and like I LOVE the other ships too, but Taivan will always hold a special place into my heart <3

This triggered something within me and I just can’t not rant about it. 

I absolutely love Taivan. Taivan is the greatest TV show couple in my opinion. The only thing I’m not a fan of when it comes to their relationship is the cheating but in a show full of cannibalism I can excuse the cheating. I think that Taivan is what people claim Lottienat to be. I think Taivan is what people claim butcherqueen to be. Taivan tops every other ship in Yellowjackets and I know for a fact that I would still ship them even if they weren’t canon.

Come on, Tai literally ate Van’s heart. That is so twisted and so gothic. Tai was going to kill someone so that Van could beat her cancer. Tai joined a cult TWICE for Van. Taissa Turner is my favourite character in the whole wild world and Taivan is the greatest ship ever.  

The only reason that people disregard Taivan is because of racism and that’s a hill I’ll die on. They want fucked up toxic relationships with cannibalistic themes until they have it. Taissa Turner and Marren Yearly match each other’s cannibalistic freak. 

Van Palmer in the adult timeline has me questioning the complexities of the relationship I have with my mother. Adult timeline Taissa Turner has me wanting to get into politics so I can run for senator in New Jersey and have her shout at me on a debate stage.

Sexy people need to date sexy people and it's so amazing that they're both more than just their sexiness. They're beautiful, they're smart, they're a little fucked up but they're still awesome.

I love Taivan is my whole point despite the fact this rant got away from me. I love Taivan and people who don’t are losers. 

Also, I do love the other ships but none of them are on the same level as Taivan. I fuck heavy with Jackie and Nat and also with butcherqueen --- JackieShauna fills the teenage rhaenicent gap that was left in my heart after Alicent married Viserys (in house of the dragon) but none of these ships will ever reach the incredibly high standards that Taivan created for me.

[I recited this to my friend as though it was a speech and I'm lowk ready to perform it in the house of commons]

[pow-pow-pew]

i would like to point out as well, that although the show was weird about making this clear: taissa did not cheat on her wife! her and simone were either separated or already divorced by the time taissa runs off to ohio!

simone was terrified of that altar in the basement, like i’m pretty sure she thought that tai was going to hurt sammy, like she hauled ass after that like a good mother would! she doesn’t want anything to do with taissa romantically anymore. that’s why she was so weirdly chill about taissa showing up to the park with van. their relationship was already over.

[blue1birds1singing]

wait cause yeah...

[blue1birds1singing]

I love A$AP rocky Rocky and that's pretty unimportant in this political climate but I love A$AP rocky and I personally believe that that's information that needs to be out there!!!

[blue1birds1singing]

father who stepped up [m.list] [prev] [next] CW: 18+, mdni, bad jokes, dirty jokes, attempts at being funny, attempts at furthering the plot, Dennis and Trinity bickering, children mentioned (sorry, I hate them too), ooc Dennis (just a lil though) SUMMARY: you and Baran had plans to hang out with her toddler, the plans changed last minute. Superman divider from @/softhandz - line divider from @/strangergraphics

A/N: I think I'm getting too comfortable taking years between parts lmao

click HERE! if you want to join the taglist!!

TAGLIST: @ohmeohmy0 @lisiliely @moonshoesdekarios @starcrossdlover @alastairheir @clueless-rads @schemmentisbaby @nattiesangel @geekyandgay98 @i-love-alexia @grahstumhurts @toofroszty

[blue1birds1singing]

I'm not new to Tumblr but I am relatively new to posting here and I've seen that people reblog their own fixs a few hours after it's posted and I was wondering why. Is that something I should be doing?

[blue1birds1singing]

there is so little Van/Tai or Taivan content I'm so happy that you write for them!! it feels weird to see that the canon lesbians get so little attention in this fandom... and like I LOVE the other ships too, but Taivan will always hold a special place into my heart <3

This triggered something within me and I just can’t not rant about it. 

I absolutely love Taivan. Taivan is the greatest TV show couple in my opinion. The only thing I’m not a fan of when it comes to their relationship is the cheating but in a show full of cannibalism I can excuse the cheating. I think that Taivan is what people claim Lottienat to be. I think Taivan is what people claim butcherqueen to be. Taivan tops every other ship in Yellowjackets and I know for a fact that I would still ship them even if they weren’t canon.

Come on, Tai literally ate Van’s heart. That is so twisted and so gothic. Tai was going to kill someone so that Van could beat her cancer. Tai joined a cult TWICE for Van. Taissa Turner is my favourite character in the whole wild world and Taivan is the greatest ship ever.  

The only reason that people disregard Taivan is because of racism and that’s a hill I’ll die on. They want fucked up toxic relationships with cannibalistic themes until they have it. Taissa Turner and Marren Yearly match each other’s cannibalistic freak. 

Van Palmer in the adult timeline has me questioning the complexities of the relationship I have with my mother. Adult timeline Taissa Turner has me wanting to get into politics so I can run for senator in New Jersey and have her shout at me on a debate stage.

Sexy people need to date sexy people and it's so amazing that they're both more than just their sexiness. They're beautiful, they're smart, they're a little fucked up but they're still awesome.

I love Taivan is my whole point despite the fact this rant got away from me. I love Taivan and people who don’t are losers. 

Also, I do love the other ships but none of them are on the same level as Taivan. I fuck heavy with Jackie and Nat and also with butcherqueen --- JackieShauna fills the teenage rhaenicent gap that was left in my heart after Alicent married Viserys (in house of the dragon) but none of these ships will ever reach the incredibly high standards that Taivan created for me.

[I recited this to my friend as though it was a speech and I'm lowk ready to perform it in the house of commons]

[blue1birds1singing]

AUDREYS M.LIST 18+ - mdni

The Pitt:

I Can See You: Baran Al-Hashimi X F!resident!reader [smau]

Yellowjackets:

Whatever she wants: Taivan x t!fem!reader [platonic]

divider from the super cool @cursed-carmine

[blue1birds1singing]

I hate the current theme I'm going back to black and white pronto

[cursed-carmine]

✴︎ LINE DIVIDERS

ﾉ Please reblog & credit if you use!

For different colors just send me an ask please!

WHEAT

SHADOW

PINK SKY

SPRING TIME

ICE COLD

[blue1birds1singing]

if you take req, do you think you could do a Taivan x t!fem reader? like reader doesn't fully realize it yet but Taivan do so they try to help her. for example, Van being like "ladies first" and holding the door (being cheesy, trying to make jokes), while Tai is more like trying to put makeup, feminine clothes on reader "just to try out!" etc. like them knowing about it so they try in their own way to help reader realize it? s

orry if it's too specific, but you can change things if you want to (honestly anything with tfem!reader, I don't see anything about it :(... )

it's ok if you want to do it tho! take care <3

me straight after reading this:

I'm actually super excited abt this idea bear with me for I am the slowest writer in the whole world but I'm 100% doing this

[blue1birds1singing]

and if I wrote a super angsty Van Palmer amnesia one shot... what then?

[blue1birds1singing]

wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again. [m.list] [prev] [next] SUMMARY: you and Baran have a conversation about where your relationship is going. CONTENT/WARNINGS: 18+, mdni, innapropiate jokes, mentions of parent death, mentions of cancer, age!gap, mature conversations, lil bit of angst, lil bit of fluff, [I thought Baran had a daughter, I was wrong, she has a son, too late to change it now] pet names, swearing, lots of yapping, I named Barans child [Cyra] WDC: 5.8k superman divider from @/softhandz, line divider from @/strangergraphics. Beta read by my sweetie @girladrift

You felt like that one Alanis Morrisette song as you scrubbed the apartment you shared with Mel so aggressively that your hands were weakening like those of a frail old lady. The song was ‘Hand In My Pocket’ if you remember correctly. You, Mel, and Trinity would recite the entirety of her discography when you went to Karaoke on Friday evenings. Hand in my pocket’You were lazy but you were cleaning, avoidant but preparing for a conversation about your relationship, You were a walking, talking, contradiction. You were the definition of a contradiction. When someone looked up the word contradiction in the dictionary there was a picture of you holding a cat; however, your eyes are puffy in the picture because despite your love for them you just so happen to be allergic to cats.

Sadly, because one of your friends is a backstabbing traitor and  gossiped about the fact you created a hate account for a certain unnamed superior, you were forced to work a double shift last night as a consequence for your ‘childish’ and ‘totally inappropriate behaviour’. At least that’s what Abbot said when he was lecturing you — the smirk on his face implied that he wasn’t actually as annoyed as he was pretending to be.  You’re not sure who decided to tell people that you created the account, but you were assuming that Trinity avoiding you every day at work since you were caught out had something to do with it. 

During your frustratingly long and busy shift, you had wanted to speak with Baran about the distance that had occurred in your relationship, but patient after patient came flooding into the ER. It reminded you of a clown car, they never stopped coming even when you were sure it was finally done. It was never fucking done. By the time the ED had quietened down enough for you to pull her aside without affecting the flow of the ED she was already gone.   You presumed she had her daughter that night and so you didn’t text or call her… until 6 AM. 

You knew that she would be up, getting ready for her shift today and getting her daughter ready for school. The text had been prepared almost four hours in advance in your notes app because you were scared that you’d forget the chill, cool way you wrote it out and so the message that you wrote out would seem insane and immature.  

‘Hey, can we talk tonight?’ you had sent, it was ominous and most likely made her panic — something you realised way too late, but there was nothing you could do when she replied less than five seconds later. 

‘Yes, of course, I’ll meet you at your place after work’   

She had replied so fast that a little ball of heat went through you. You wondered if the reason for the haste was because she had been about to text you. Or, maybe, that was a hopeful projection.  If this was resolved, you would ask her about it later, the curiosity — and quite frankly, nosiness — beginning to gnaw at you just a little bit. 

A smile threatened to stretch over your face, perhaps the exhaustion of working a full day had left you delirious, and now you were excited by an eleven-word text message. It gave no clear signal that your relationship was going to be alright but you were happy to see that she hadn’t completely written you off just yet. Your face almost immediately grimaced when you remembered that out of you and Mel, she was the clean one, and she hadn’t been home all weekend, taking her time off very seriously and visiting Colonial Williamsburg with her sister, Mel just really knows how to party. With the clean roommate gone, the messy roommate is forced to fend for herself… so basically your apartment looked like a bomb sight.    

 Mel really hated it when you cleaned as your methods weren’t up to her standards. More often than not you would just let her take the lead. Every couple of months you would succumb to the societal pressure of cleanliness and self care and clean your own bedroom but that was just about it. Mel had expressed, on several different occasions, that the way you cleaned stressed her out. At first, you didn’t understand. Was there a wrong way to clean? You thought it was just doing the laundry, taking out the trash, putting things back in the correct places… boy were you wrong.

After spending the whole day cleaning, you realised why it may be stressful to Mel, because it was stressful to you. You were incapable of sitting still. Anytime you would begin a task, you would get bored after a second and start a new one. Thankfully, you weren’t so unfocused that you just completely abandoned the tasks, you did go back to them eventually. But your whole cleaning ethic was so unorganised it was beginning to overwhelm you to the point you wanted to rip the hair out of your head. 

You were stressing yourself out. 

When you had finished cleaning, after about 67 years , you hopped into the shower, changed your duvet covers (just in case), and began cooking something that you originally intended to be a lasagna but you probably followed the recipe catastrophically wrong and you ended up with a bio hazard you would be thrown in a military prison for so you just dumped it in the trash and ordered from the Italian place down the street that Baran labelled as a hidden gem when you first started seeing each other because she believed that if there was a restaurant that she didn’t know about then it had just had to be niche.  

You were going all out — as all out as you could have gone without leaving the house and without seeming like a complete lunatic —but, unfortunately, the dull ache of a migraine that people would only get when they were straining to stay awake was beginning to form within your brain. Normally, you would just loom over the chances of having a brain aneurysm or perhaps even a tumour, but you had important shit to do, important shit to care about.

Baran, Baran, Baran, and Baran.  

You pushed through the pain and hunted through your closet in order to find clothes you had stolen from Baran. You figured if she saw you wearing her clothes then she’d realise how much she cared about you. She’d realise that you were beautiful in her clothes and she wanted to see you wearing her clothes more often.  

It was a pair of brown plaid shorts that you stole from her closet after you guys hooked up for the first time and a shirt you stole a week after that because you saw it while raiding her closet and thought it looked cute. 

She didn’t know that you had taken her clothes to use as Pj’s until Christmas eve. She didn’t have her daughter for the first time in years so you agreed to spend it together so that she wasn’t lonely. She smiled when she saw it, but then went on to accuse you of larceny, she said she was going to call the police and then kissed you so hard you couldn’t breathe. A few moments later, when you finally managed to pull away, you said you were going to have her arrested for attempted murder. You made a deal that she wouldn’t press charges for your thievery if you didn’t press charges for the attempt on your life.  The funny thing is, she took your breath away so much that if you did decide to press charges she would spend the rest of her life in prison. 

A few hours later, you were half asleep curling into her in her bed. She then whispered softly, telling you that she hadn’t worn that shirt since med school. She told you that seeing you in her shirt made her feel really nostalgic. You smiled at her, sleepily, and wondered what would happen if you had met her in med school. How different would your life have been? 

Would you have come out sooner? Would you have come out of your shell sooner? You would never admit this to any of your friends but you were quite shy up until your last year of med school – the year your mother was diagnosed with cancer. You realised that life was short and if your mother wasn’t going to live to see you get married and have kids, she could at least live to see you get a personality that didn’t revolve around your studies.   

Your mother never really got to know the person you became. She didn’t have the chance. You thought about that a lot, especially now as you were actually making real connections with people who loved you for your personality, people who cared about you. If you had met Baran earlier would your mother have gotten the chance to see the somewhat lively person you grew into? Would she have liked the person you grew into? 

Now, as you panic and pace around your living room about the conversation coming, you realise that’s when the love started blooming. Obviously, you always had feelings for her, literally since you first fucking met her, and you always imagined her being in your future somewhat. But imagining your past with her? That’s a whole different feeling, one you were way too nervous to get into. It was just the beginning of your relationship, you couldn’t explore the complexity of the feelings you had for her just yet, that wouldn’t be fair to her. She was probably expecting this to just be a hookup, a casual fling.  

Now, as you panic and pace around the living room about the conversation you were going to have, you realise that Christmas eve is the night your love for her first started blooming. Of course, without a doubt, you always had feelings for her. Literally since the first day you met her — you originally thought it was just joy at the fact that Robby was leaving and you wouldn’t have to deal with him for a few months, you were clearly wrong — and you always imagined a future with her in it, even if it wasn't romantic. But imagining your past with her? That’s a whole different feeling, one you were way too anxious to delve into. It was just the beginning of your relationship, you couldn’t explore the complexity of the feelings you had for her just yet, that wouldn’t be fair to her. She was probably expecting this just to be a fling, a casual thing. 

You were hoping the fact that you were wearing her clothes as pyjamas so casually would convey the fact that you were casual about her. That you weren’t so completely, head over heels, pathetically in love with her. You weren’t willing to dig into the fact that you were so avoidant that you were picking out pyjamas to speak for you, that would take too much time, it wasn’t your job to fix the problems in your life, that’s what therapists are for.   

You flopped yourself down onto the green sofa which took up almost all of the space in the living room. It was adorned with several pillows that Mel had picked out and refused to let you throw away. The whole apartment was so cluttered — organised, yes, but still cluttered — that it made your head spin round and round like a carousel that never stops turning. You closed your eyes so tightly that shapes and colours began to dance behind your eyelids and you let out a sigh you had been holding in the pit of your stomach for the last couple of days. 

You pondered over all of the things that you could say to stop Baran from leaving you. The things you can say that convey your emotions in a rational manner. (Despite the fact you had the underlying urge to just scream and cry like a toddler.) 

You had been practicing the conversation in your head so much that you could almost hear her speaking back.

You got most of your advice off of a Cosmopolitan issue from 2019 and it was only six steps. 

Be straightforward. 

Don’t be too emotional. 

Let them know you have other offers (this was off the table because you had been secretly exclusive with Baran since you first hooked up. You didn’t know if she felt the same way about you but it’s how you feel about her and you’re not going to pretend otherwise.) 

Don’t settle for just having fun. 

Do set a time limit for commitment. 

Don’t try to change their mind. 

You didn’t know how useful an out of date article could be but it did help you write out a basic structure for all the things you wanted to say. You spent half an hour on that when you should've been cleaning the dust under the couch.

‘I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. I’ve been having fun and I feel like we have a good connection. However, things are getting a little confusing so I’d like it if we could talk about it. It’s unclear where this relationship is heading and what you want from it. It’s unclear to me what’s going to happen to our relationship when Robby comes back from his sabbatical. I really like you. I really love spending time with you. I want a serious relationship. I want to be serious with you. I’ve always been a casual relationship person but it’s not what I’m looking for with you. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want. You can take some time to think about it, I don’t mind, but if you’re still unsure in a month then we should return to the professional relationship we had before—’ ignoring the fact that you drunk texted her during your ‘professional relationship’ about how you fantasised about having dirty vampire lesbian sex with her ‘—I’m not going to try and change your mind but I’m also not going to stay in a relationship that’s going nowhere because I really like you and staying casual would just hurt me more in the long run.’   

You got the idea of writing the main frame of the conversation out and memorising it by an episode of Brooklyn 99 where Amy breaks up with Teddy. Originally, before Jake messed everything up, she wanted to write out the break-up so she could be extremely prepared for the break-up and use the right words. Of course, you had no intention of ending the relationship with Baran, but you believed Amy’s idea was actually quite smart. 

Suddenly, you were snapped out of your thoughts and your pretend conversations when someone — the food delivery guy, you presumed — knocked at the door. You let out a sigh and reached over to grab your purse from the oak end table on the side of the couch. You then pushed yourself up, letting out a small grunt as you did so.  

You pulled the extremely old door open, the rusty hinges that you kept meaning to fix but always found an excuse not to, screeched as you opened the door, an annoying sound that made you want to cut your ears off. However, the annoyance did not last long at all. Because the sight that met you when you opened the door was a rather pleasant one. 

Your eyes widened in surprise — the best kind of surprise — when you opened the door to see Baran. Her shift hadn’t even ended yet. She looked weary and a little bit unsteady after spending almost ten hours on her feet. Her hair was undone, a little bit messy, and she was wearing a red T-shirt with black jeans, her backpack slung over her right shoulder. She must have just come here straight after ditching her shift instead of going home to change first. That almost made you smile. Despite the fact she was grimey and probably had several layers of hospital air attached to her flesh, she wanted to see you so badly that she didn’t go home to wash the bad day away. 

You admired her for a moment longer than you intended, looking at the way her glassy brown eyes were emphasised by the bags that rested under her eyes. She was the only person in the world, you believed, who could make eyebags look so sexy. In fact, being a tired mess just looked so amazing on her. Her slightly smudged mascara, her messy hair, her… just her. She was the only person in the world who mattered, you thought. Right now, and hopefully for the foreseeable future, she was all that you needed. 

“Hey,” she said, her voice quiet and a little horse after barking orders in the ED all day. “Am I allowed to come in… or…are you going to keep staring at me like that?” her voice had a teasing edge, and a small smile was beginning to curve over her lips. 

“Shit, yeah, of course. Sorry, you’re just… I missed you a lot,” you said, opening the door wider as you stammered over your words, standing to the side just a little so she can enter the apartment, she does, but in a way that’s subtly hesitant. That pains you, she shouldn’t ever be hesitant to be in your house or your presence.  

You could smell the remnant of the perfume she was wearing as she made her way past you and you wondered, for just a moment, if she would be okay with you kissing her senseless.. You closed your eyes once more, stabilising your mind and push down the fact you felt as though you were going to throw up — to be honest, if you had eaten today at all you probably would’ve thrown it up earlier due to nerves, for that very fear you decided just wait until the conversation was over to gorge yourself on food. 

She eyed you up and down for a minute, “you look tired,” she murmured softly. She slipped her bag off of her shoulder and placed it on your end table. You notice quickly that she’s treating you like you’re a deer she’s afraid to scare away. She’s being gentle, soft, so careful and so intentional because she’s afraid that after any sudden move you’d shut down. She was afraid this conversation would end badly. 

Oh, I really hope it doesn’t end badly — you think to yourself, tucking your still somewhat damp hair behind your ears. 

“I didn’t sleep for very long today,” you mutter, gesturing for her to sit down on the couch, hoping that she can sense that you’re trying to make her as comfortable as she can be, hoping that she can tell you want her here, that this conversation will not end badly as long as you can help it. 

She smiled at you, still soft, still kind, still gentle, and you smiled back and sat next to her. Keeping a respectful distance but still close enough to signify that you wanted to be close to her. God, you were relying so desperately on body language it was pathetic. 

“I ordered us food,” you blurted out, “from that place down the street. I got carbonara, pizza, risotto, it was this weird share platter they were offering, like they just give you a shit ton of food in smaller portions. It also had other stuff that I don’t remember now. I do remember tiramisu, but only one so we might have to share, unless you don’t want to, I can call and make them add it on, if you want. You love tiramasu I’m so stupid, I just – I should’ve ordered you your own one from the start, I’m sorry—” you began to push yourself up from the couch to grab your phone to call up and add an extra tiramisu to the order, but Baran stops you, placing her cold hand gently on your arm. 

This one little action, one small barely noticeable touch, slowed your ramblings down. You completely stopped talking and just smiled at her. She was looking at you with her beautiful bambi eyes in a way that stops the most rapid of heartbeats and her lips were slightly upturned at the corners.

“I’m more than happy to share, nafasam,” the term of endearment rolled off her tongue so sweetly, almost taking your breath away. That was what she called you, all of the time, ‘my breath’ is what it meant, and from what you’ve heard through the grapevine — or what you understand from how beautiful she says it and how lovingly she looks at you when the nickname slips from her lips — it was deeply romantic. The nickname never failed to catch you off guard no matter how much you heard it. 

With this newfound atmosphere, your smile softened into something more excited than nervous, you’re not quite sure what happened but now. Now, apparently,  you were excited to have this possible relationship altering question. It was strange how quickly your mood had shifted in her presence, how quick it shifted just by you looking at her. When she looked at you like you were the only thing to exist you couldn’t help but desire the conversation. You wanted today to be the start of forever. The start of the future you’ve imagined countless times, not the beginning of the end. 

“I have to be honest,” she murmured slowly, her eyebrows furrowing just a little, “you’ve been making me quite nervous recently.” 

You didn’t even try to hide the guilt that rushed through your body at her words, you didn’t even know if you could. You hated that you had made her feel that way. You hate that you’ve made her anxious. Now, all you could do is hope you never made her feel that way again. 

“I’m.. I’m sorry for that,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands, trying to remember the script you had written. You knew that if you looked her in the eyes at this moment you would probably begin sobbing from the guilt that was now making you ache. 

“It’s just—” you took a deep breath in, trying to rationalise your emotions and then remember the script you had worked so hard on. What was step one again? 

“I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, Baran. I’m having so much fun with you and I believe we have a good connection.” You looked up at her for a moment and saw the light dimming from her eyes just a little, probably assuming you were breaking up with her.  

That really, really hurt. 

“Things are just… things are getting confusing so I’d like it if we could discuss this — our relationship, because to me, it’s unclear where this relationship is heading and what you want from it.” You hated how hesitant your voice was as you spoke, “Robby is coming back to The Pitt soon and if you have to leave… would you break up with me if we’re not working together anymore?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed a little more, the confusion evident on her face, “why would you think that? Have I done anything to imply that I’d end this relationship? Are you going to end this relationship?” 

You couldn’t even let the thought settle into the air for so much as a micro-second “no! Of course not! We both work a lot, I’m in my final year of residency, you have a kid and I just.. I don’t think that we’d have that much time for one another if we didn’t work together and I don’t think a healthy relationship can be built on an extremely distant foundation.” 

She nodded, her face softening as she began to realise what you meant. She silently pondered over it for a moment and then smiled just a little, as though a happier memory sprung to her head, or as though she came up with an idea. You were confused, but before you could ask her what she was thinking about she began to speak again. 

“I mean, hypothetically, if I did leave the PTMC, which I’m not, and we didn’t get to see each other as much, you’d probably just have to join Cyra and I when we hang out,” she shrugged, as though she didn’t just suggest that meet her literal child. Jesus fucking Christ, she just suggested that you meet her child. That’s how serious she is about you? You had all of these feelings for her that you were too afraid to express and she just said that like it was nothing? If you were a lesser woman, you would have resented her emotional maturity. 

You took in what she said as though you were a follower of Christ and she was spreading the gospel. For a minute, a very short minute, you understood how people fall into religious psychosis. She left you breathless, flabbergasted, gobsmacked. You needed to focus, to set your mind straight again. You felt as though you were driving and you just went spinning in the middle of the road after driving on a patch of ice. The fear of the moment would linger throughout the rest of the drive but it’d only take a couple of minutes for you to get your car back in the right direction. You’d do it with shaky hands but you’d still do it. 

— “That’s.. umm … wow. I think that— I think that it’s a really nice thought, and a great idea, Baran, really. But you didn’t really give me a clue on whether or not you were staying. It’s very important to me that you’re direct with me because I want to be prepared.” you said, your voice as stable and as rational as you could possibly make it, 

She furrowed her brows, “I just told you I was staying,” she said with a small laugh. “ The Pitt needs an extra attending, two on each shift. Abbot and Shen on the night shift, Robby and I on the day shift. I’m staying. I’m staying with you, nafasam.”  

You grinned before you could tell your face not to, and the desire to kiss her rushed through your body almost instantly. You didn’t, not just yet anyway. You had more to talk about first. 

You were so fucking relieved. You had no idea what you would do without Baran. God dangling her in front of you and then ripping her away is just as vile and cruel as dangling a carrot in front of a starving donkey and then making it watch as you ate it yourself. You believed in no god, no entity, but you were so grateful to whatever was out there, to whoever ruled the universe. So grateful that she wasn’t dangled in front of you and then ripped away so cruelly. 

You took a deep breath and nodded your head once, “I’m glad that you’re staying with me.” As you spoke the words, the relief and happiness you felt was so incredibly evident, “and I know you’re tired and probably tired of talking but—” 

“No, please continue,” she encouraged, “this is an important conversation, we need to have it.  

“I want to say I’m sorry again,” you said, “for the distance between us. I know it’s not the best way to react to situations but… I was just a little bit nervous. I’ve never loved someone enough to have this conversation with someone and now I do and it’s… it’s a very bizarre feeling. I didn’t know what to do with it.” 

Her encouragement for you to keep speaking really gave you the confidence to tell her… everything. You were going to be open and honest, even if every single one of the nerves inside of your body was telling you not to. 

You waited patiently for her response, watching her eyes as she registered the words you spoke, and then suddenly, her eyes widened in surprise. Your brows creased in confusion, wondering why she was making that face. 

“Did you just say you love me?” she asked. 

At first, your immediate response was to deny the allegations she was laying at your feet, but she was right. You did, in fact, just tell her you loved her. Perhaps not saying the words ‘I love you’ but you did it nonetheless. 

You opened your mouth to respond to her but she cut you off again. Probably seeing the uncomfortable expression that took over your face at the realisation of your words. 

“It’s okay, we can talk about it later.” she smiled, and you were thankful about that because if you sidetracked the matter at hand to discuss your accidental love confession you would be a little bit irritated by your own actions, you needed to have this conversation now. 

“I’m… of course I’m upset about you avoiding me. However, you did close the gap between us first without a fight, without a huge fuss, and I think that is a very mature thing today,” she said, as though she was proud of you. That made you want to cry, in fact, it brought tears to your eyes that you quickly had to blink away. “So, I accept your apology, but it can’t happen again. Like you said, we cannot build a healthy relationship on the foundation of distance. I want to know what you’re feeling and I don’t want you to be afraid of telling me things straight.” 

“Yeah, I’ve never really been good at straight — pun intended, but I promise you I am trying, and I will keep trying. I want this to be a real relationship. I care about this so much and I’ll do anything to keep it.” you said, sincerely, you smiled as you spoke, but your voice was still a little bit shaky.   

There, it was done, you had talked, you had expressed yourself. You had this mature conversation without crying or without running away. You were open, upfront, and you had told her you wanted a serious relationship without cowering away from it. Trinity would be proud of you — unfortunately she’s still avoiding you. 

“Now…” she began, “back to love. You love me, nafasam?  

Oh god, oh dear sweet god. For just a second, you completely blanked that from your mind. But you had in fact told her you loved her. Oh god no. 

She’s going to break up with, make fun of you with her friends, joke about the woman who said ‘I love you’ only three months in, joke about the woman who said ‘I love you’ after avoiding her for a week, joke about the girl who took way too many steps in the right direction, so far right she turned left. You fucked up, you fucked up so bad. She smiled at you as you spiraled internally. Yeah, she’s definitely mocking you in her head. She’s probably already thinking about all of the ways she can mock you with her friends. Thinking of the cruel nicknames. What if she tells her friends you’re like Ted Mosby? Oh fuck no. What if she associates you with Ted Mosby every time she sees you? You don’t want to be Ted Mosby. You hate Ted Mosby. If he loved Robin so bad then he shouldn’t have married Tracy, that was stupid and selfish of him. What if Baran has a Robin and you’re just a Tracy? What if she is just waiting for you to die so she can get back with her ex? 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You should just kill yourse- 

“I love you too,” she beamed, the smile on her face so beautiful, so kind, you almost completely forgot about the fact your mind spiraled into the pits of hell less than a millisecond ago. 

She loves you. She loves you. She loves you and you love her. 

You are in love with each other. 

This is a real relationship that isn’t ending any time soon. 

“You do.” you said, however, it wasn’t a question. You didn’t question her love for you — despite past evidence that claimed you did. Now that she said it to your face, now that she just looked you in the eyes and told you she loved you, you knew she wasn’t lying. Because she didn’t lie, she was many things and you were always a distrusting person, but Baran Al-Hashimi didn’t lie. Sure, she’d tell her daughter Santa was real, and she’d tell patients that they had nothing to worry about, and she’d pretend she wasn’t annoyed when kids threw up on her in the ED, but she never lied to you. 

“I do.” She agreed, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss on the bridge of your nose. — 

You smiled back, grabbing her cheeks with both hands and pulling her face closer to yours, “I love you so much,” you whispered, and then finally, like you’ve been aching to do every since she first stepped foot into this apartment, you kissed her. As always, her lips were soft and sweet. The kiss was telling, slow, gentle, tender, loving. It was everything you had wanted from her for so long — so long being the three months that you were dating — and now it was finally yours. Now you could finally say she was yours and no one could disagree. Because she loves you.

She slid her still cold hand up to your jaw and pulled you impossibly closer in order to deepen the kiss, you parted your mouth for her, almost instinctively, and you were about to deepen kiss yourself because in your opinion she was taking way too long, but unfortunately, the doorbell went, and you groaned frustrated into her mouth, causing her to laugh and pull away. You grabbed your purse one more time and handed it to her so she could pay the delivery man. When she took the purse from your hands she pushed herself up from the sofa and headed to the door. You watched as she opened it, as she talked to him in that kind respectful voice she spoke to everyone in. It was such a domestic sight, and you imagined what it would look like if you lived together. Of course, that is far away in the future, you weren’t ready to leave Mel just yet, but it was so nice to imagine sharing a place with Baran. 

You knew for a fact you’d have the prettiest house in the world. 

You could imagine your whole life with Baran as she talked to the delivery man. You could imagine her love you for years to come. You could imagine spending lazy Sundays with her and her daughter, curling up on the couch as the rain poured against the windows. You could imagine falling asleep on her shoulder during long car rides. You could imagine traveling the world, and every single important holiday with her. 

She was your future and you were hers and you were so excited for that future to begin. You were so excited, so incredibly grateful, that you were getting the chance to spend the rest of your life with Baran. 

A/N: Yes, this is a re-upload!! my sweetie came through and so now it's edited and proof read #hallelujah.

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