Just Saw Your König At The Beach Drawings And I’m Impressed! Your Concept Of Body Language Is Super

A Feeling too Familiar

She twiddles and twists her fingers together. A nervous toying she did when she couldn't speak. Or if she didn't have words. The wind came in short bursts, but paired with the cold drizzle of rain made her hands freeze. She didn't mind the cold of her hands, it was common that her thin fingers became chilled easily. The voice beside her caught her attention. "Are you cold?" She blinks and looks up.

His gaze was warm, and a faint smile graced his lips. He had been speaking, she knew he had but she wasn't paying attention. Not to all of it. "Oh, not really. It's just my hands get cold fast so I play with them to warm them up but nothing bad." She spoke quickly, not wanting to stutter to seem any colder than she was. Her two jackets and thick jeans were enough to keep her body warm.

"Oh, well let me see them." He paused his walking, making her stop as well. He opened his hand, she hesitated, feeling her heart beat faster. Not too fast, she thought. A smile brightened her face and she laid her hands in his. His eyebrows raised in shock. "Wow your hands got cold fast!" He chuckled and her cheeks became pink. She eyed the way his hands engolfed his, and then her face became darker with a red shade. He lifted hers and his hands and brought them to his mouth, cupping both their hands and breathed into them.

She laughs and pulls her hands away. "Gross! Now your breath is gonna be all over my sweaty hands!" He laughed with her and he gave a small shrug.

"Gotta warm you up somehow. Here, let me see one of your hands." She raised a brow at him and he scoffs. "I won't breathe on it." She huffed and held her hand out. He took it with his other hand and tugged her down the street. "Lets go, once we're inside we can warm up some more."

She nodded, glancing at their hands. For a moment they were silent, then she spoke up. "So, your nickname came from a candy?" He chuckled, unknown to her that he was a bit embarrassed about it. He started explaining the story, and she forgot why she was nervous before. She smiled up at him as he told his story and she listened, her fingers gently rubbing his palm only once in a while.

How long will these feelings last, before she's lonely once again.

Me fr rn

Yep, I'm here.

You've probably seen me on A03. Maybe not. IF you did, then you know what I write. Enjoy your stay. I'll be around... trying to figure out how this works so bare with me.

Are you gonna post part five of Recom Quaritch x reader? I really liked it but you haven’t been very active on here since the last part.

I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't be using excuses but I had a lot going on. I have part of Pt. 5 written I just need to finish it up and go over it. Sorry again and to everyone else who was waiting.

Oh also, who did you icon? It's very cool!

Ahh got it, reblogging. Thank you again. And i found the image on Google. It's usually how I get most of my icons. I'll change my icon every month or so. Also I have to ask, you're the one that drew those Griffin drawings?

Invisible Man x Reader pt. 3

I'm tired, I'm a little drunk. I finished my first year of college. And I'm hungry. I'm sorry t took so long.

Warnings: mentions of poison, mentions of suicide by drinking (nothing serious) slight mention of past abuse (you'd have to squint), some drinking, male masturbation, mentions of sex.

Minors DNI, everyone else, enjoy :)

~~~Read under the cut~~~

You turned on your side and kept your eyes closed. Breathe in, breathe out. Again. Then you sigh. You weren’t able to sleep, and being in an unfamiliar old room wasn’t helping. Griffin wasn’t wrong when he said the room hadn’t been used in years. You could see dust particles floating about the moment he opened the door. It was an old bedroom, with a dresser, a vanity, and a large bed. All covered in dust. You made a face when he first showed it to you. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you grabbed a duster and a broom. It was 11 o’clock at night when you finished cleaning, but you were satisfied.

After Griffin brought you some of his clothes to sleep in, you thanked him and wished him a good night. He did the same and retreated into his bedroom. You got dressed, giggling at yourself for wearing even more men’s clothes, then got into the dust-free bed. The blankets were cool and fluffy, and the extra pillows on the bed made you feel as if you were lying upon the clouds. So, you lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Your fingers twisted at the fabric on your chest, and you inhaled to sigh but paused. Your eyes scan the shirt; then slowly, you lift it to your nose. You take a small sniff, and your nostrils are greeted with the faint scent of soapy sage wood and musk.

You blink, feeling how hot your face became. You sniff again, then let go of the shirt quickly; the fabric settles on your chest. How perverted you must seem right now! You close your eyes and frown as guilt begins to worm its way into your chest. Guilt for taking Griffin’s clothes, his room (even though he said he’s never used it), and guilt for leaving your fiancé all alone to cook and clean for himself. You open your eyes again and stare up. No, you knew it wasn’t guilt that made you think of your fiancé. It was fear, but you wished it was guilt. You silently wished that you could play the role of a good wife, like he said earlier. Your mother would have scolded you, should she be living in the same town. But your father? You smile softly, knowing he would probably knock the teeth out of your fiancé for ever hurting you.

You missed your parents terribly You knew moving to a larger city would be a challenge, especially for a single woman with no great status. You met with Johnathan, the son of your mother’s friend. He offered you a residence and food if you married him. And, of course, that sounded like a dream come true! And John was sweet, most of the time. But it didn’t sit right with you. Staying in that house and doing nothing all day except clean and cook and occasionally birth a child. You frowned again, looking away from the ceiling.

Then you met Griffin. The albino man who works with chemicals, solutions, poisons, and antidotes. He didn’t see you as a future housewife or mother, he saw you as an extra pair of hands that could be taught. You remember when you asked him why he allowed you to work with him. He looked over at you, still visible at the time. He had handsome features when his face wasn’t scrunched up in annoyance. Even despite his pale nature, he was beautiful. “You’re a capable human being with the same brain as a man. It’s ridiculous that some must be antagonized because of one’s gender. Women have gone to war, and hunted, why should I care…” He looked away and hummed. “You’re smarter than most men and women I’ve met anyway, I think that earns you a place as my research assistant, wouldn’t you agree?”

A smile graces your lips as you recall the memory. He’s been nothing but kind to you. He hasn’t yelled at you for breaking a vile, or sneered at you for cooking something he didn’t like. Though it’s rare to receive praise from the man, but you didn’t mind. He would speak up about something he didn’t like. One time you cooked a beef stew when it was cold out, and he ate two bowls worth. He left all the carrots inside the bowl however, then admitted that he hated carrots. So, you don’t cook with them anymore. Another time, you were cleaning the inside of a beaker, and he suggested a different way of cleaning and drying them, so your fingerprints didn’t stain the glass.

You sit up slowly and throw the blankets from your body. You decided you would go and drink a glass of water, hoping somehow that would help you sleep. Carefully you move across the floor and towards the door. Once you open it and peek outside, you spot Griffin’s door already open. You look towards the stairs, and you spot a faint light flickering below. Being careful not to make a sound, you head for the stairs and make your way down. In the lab, the light was brighter. A candle was lit and sitting on the counter, around the way was a headless and handless body. You watched for a moment as he moved, and you could notice when he turned his head by the way the collar of his shirt would bend.

You cross your arms and stand at the entranceway of the lab. “Griffin.” Your voice was soft but it didn’t stop him from jumping in surprise. His body turned towards you and he set down a book he was looking over. “I see you can’t sleep either.”

“Apologies if I disturbed your sleep.” He stretched his back then looked down at his desk. “I’ve discovered I can’t sleep without a blind on; my eyelids are invisible, so I see right through them. I’ve also discovered I don’t quite like sleeping with a blind on.” He sighed in annoyance. You took a seat across from him at the table.

“You didn’t disturb me. I suppose I couldn’t sleep with so many thoughts in my head. Worrying thoughts.” You look at the shirt, then let your eyes wander up to look at the invisible mass, where you know a pair of eyes are studying you. “I thought maybe a glass of water might help.”

A short ‘hmph’ sounded from his throat and he stood up. “I’ll join you. You know what they say really helps you to sleep? A glass of whiskey.” He walks to the kitchen with his candlestick leading the way. A smile forms on your lips and you tilt your head.

“You have whiskey? I didn’t know you indulged in that type of alcohol.” You follow him into the kitchen as you hear him mutter.

“I own one bottle of whiskey, a gift from an old friend. However, I also own a bottle of wine, also a gift. I only indulge when I think I’ve deserved some.” He opens a cabinet and takes out a beautiful-looking bottle of whiskey. “Or for a special occasion. Both don’t happen often.” He looks over the bottle, then looks at you. “Care for a taste?”

Your nose scrunched and you gave a nervous smile. “I’ve heard terrible things about whiskey. Like how disgusting it is…and how violent people become…” Your smile falters, and he notices. His thoughts carry to your fiancé’s drinking habits.

“I can assure you that it’s not the alcohol that makes you violent, it’s the person that acts upon it themselves.” He looks over the whiskey and then at you. “And I promise that one drink will not get you drunk.”

You weigh over the idea, knowing you’ve never had whiskey before but have heard a lot about it. “All right, I’ll try a little bit.” Griffin takes out two glasses and sets them down. He opens the whiskey, and you realize he’s never opened it before tonight. As he’s pouring, you ask, “Whiskey is a Scottish drink, correct?”

“Correct.” He closes the alcohol and puts it away. “The man that gifted it to me, traveled to Scotland himself and picked this up at a shop. He told me Scott’s drink as if the world is ending tomorrow.” As he handed you the glass of alcohol, he hummed and mumbled. “He warned me this stuff was strong.” He raises his glass, and you stare at him. He then reaches over to grab your hand holding your own glass, lifting it up as well, before tapping his glass against yours. “Cheers. Now you say cheers as well.”

A little laugh bubbles out of your throat and you grin. “Cheers.” You tap your glass against his and then watch as Griffin drinks his whiskey. The alcohol runs down his throat and you watch it disappear within his shirt. You then do the same, taking a drink of your whiskey as if it were water. A big mistake. You cough and cover your mouth, shaking your head. “Oh God what is that?” You could feel the whiskey literally burning your nose and throat. And somehow, it felt hot as it slid down.

You hear a mixture of coughing and laughter from across you. Griffin was covering his mouth with his sleeve, and he was doubled over. “I’m sorry, I guess I should have warned you…”

“It burns, is that normal?” You cough again and head to the sink for some water. “Am I allergic to this?”

Griffin chuckled again, a deep sound that you weren’t familiar with. You weren’t sure if it was the whiskey or him that sent goosebumps up your back. “That’s normal. I should have explained it better to you.” He finished the rest of his drink while you drank water from your cupped hand.

“How do people enjoy this? It tastes like poison, literal burning poison. At least I imagine that’s what it tastes like.” You turn the sink off and glare down at the cup of whiskey still sitting in your cup.

“It is poison. And many choose to drink it for different reasons. To get drunk, or to relax, to get tired. Or to slowly kill themselves. A bottle at a time.” He walks to the sink and places the cup down. “You don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to. But a tip for drinking any alcohol, except wine, is to drink it fast. Let it run straight down the throat. Wine is for flavor, this is not.”

You take in his words carefully. Licking your lips, you take the glass in your hands, quickly throw the drink back, and attempt to ‘let it run straight down.’ It does, however, still burn going down. And once again, it warms your throat and chest as you swallow it. You let out another cough and push the drink away once again. “I’m done…” You coughed again but Griffin could see a little smile on your face.  

            He took both glasses and set them down in the sink. You turn to try washing them, but Griffin stops you with a hand on your back. “No need for that tonight. Go back to bed and try getting some sleep.”

            You frown and stare at the clothes that float before you. “I’ll try, but…I’m still worried.”

            “About what?” He questions you, still standing beside you with his hand resting on your lower back.

            You sigh softly. “Well…what if we can’t find a cure for you? You’ll just be invisible forever? And what about my fiancé? What if he comes in the morning with the police, o-or he tries breaking in?”

            “There’s a cure for everything, even if we haven’t found it yet. It will take some time, is all. And I have plenty of time. As for your fiancé, I’m sure he’s fallen asleep in some drunken stupor…if he tries breaking in, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” You failed to notice the change in his voice when he admits this.

            You nod slowly, your eyes staring down at his shirt. His words helped only a little, and he seems to realize this. “It all feels like a massive burden on you, Griffin.”

            Warm, gentle hands touched your chin, lifting your face up so you looked up at the nothing that sat upon his shoulders. Once he had your eyes, he took your hands in his. “You’ve called yourself a burden twice now. I’ll not allow it a third time. You’ve done more good for me in this house than I’ve done for myself in years. I want no more talk of this, understand?” When you nod, he hums, and you think he nods back. “Good. Scientists like you and I shouldn’t doubt or worry. It’s not good for the brain.”

            A smile grows on your lips, and you tilt your head. “I’m a scientist now?”

            Griffin was quiet as he thought over his words, then he cleared his throat. “No, not yet. I could give you a test to see if you’re smart enough to be one. Not that you’d fail, I should have taught you everything I know by now.” He started mumbling. “Have I taught you everything? Perhaps I should have taken note…” His fingers were rubbing your hand, and you held back a giggle. You felt lighter and giddy. A little dizzy.

            “I’ll take any test you give me.” You grin. “I want to be a scientist.”

            “I can have that arranged.” He pauses before quickly letting go of your hands. He clears his throat once again. “You should go to bed now, I’m sure the alcohol is calming your system.”

            You give a small nod before walking to the stairs. You turn your head to the kitchen and smile softly. “Goodnight Griffin.” With that, you carefully climb the stairs and smile to yourself, finding the task to be funnier than it should be. And once you hit the bed, your mind seems to swim in bliss that wasn’t there before. Butterflies in your stomach and a head stuck in the clouds, it seemed. You think briefly that this was, in fact, the alcohol. Then you remember Griffin’s words and how he was holding your hand, and you let out another giggle followed by a yawn. Lulling you to sleep was the faint scent of his shirt, and when you finally slept, it felt like your body and mind were able to rest for the first time in forever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

            He watches you leave the kitchen, knowing now that you were tipsy from one drink. It was too much, and he knew it; shame on you for almost wasting the small woman, he scolded himself. Once you are back in your room, he walks slowly to the lab and pauses. His mind kept wandering back to you. Your chin in his hand, how you looked up at him when there was nothing there. The soft touch of your hands in his. An invisible hand runs through invisible hair while Griffin lets out a deep sigh. What was happening to him? He was drunk, that’s the only logical answer. And with that logical answer, he knew he should go to his room and sleep.

            He walks upstairs, his eyes glancing at the door of your room. He walks inside his own room and shuts the door. Walking to bed, his mind wanders to his work, about his invisibility tests and blood samples. He’s yet to do a semen sample. His mind wanders for a moment, asking himself if it was appropriate to do such a thing after what just occurred. A grunt leaves his throat, and he gets up to find a clear test pallet. After laying down on the bed, he adjusts himself, imagining anything to arouse him. Using the long sleeve of his shirt, he covers his eyes to better imagine. He’s never had sex, but he’s witnessed it before, as well as read about it in a book that generously came with pictures. His pants become tighter, and he lets out a deep breath, palming himself.

            Griffin has done this before, plenty of times. He has needs like everyone else. But he usually never has the time to do so. He’ll imagine the photos from the books, combined with the sounds he’s heard from the couple that decided to fuck in the middle of a bar. His hand takes out his cock, slowly stroking it while his imagination played out. You appear in his head (almost immediately) and his hand slows to a stop, but he feels a shiver of delight run down his spine. This is sick, he thought to himself. You smiled at him, your legs straddling his hips while wearing his clothes. And then you had no pants on, sitting against his length bare. A shaky breath leaves his lips, and his grip tightens for a second.

            You said his name, in that soft voice you use on him. It drives him wild. How dare you use something so simple to enrapture him like this? His hand strokes faster as he imagines your eyes, staring up at him. When he lifted your chin, you’d look at him, and how your lips parted when you did. He groans and bites his lip. He imagines where he would take you. In his bed, of course. To have you lay down against his bed sheets, looking up at him with soft eyes, caused a moan to escape his throat. He wanted you in his tub as well, water be damned. He wanted to make a mess. Having you on top of him, riding his length while water splashed out of the sides. And he couldn’t begin to imagine the beautiful noises you’d make for him.

            His back arched and he groaned as he came, his hips bucking into his hand while his head tilted back in pleasure. He spilled across himself, panting as he tried calming down. He realized his first mistake; he didn’t use the damn pallet. His sample was all over his chest. His next mistake was the thoughts he just used to pleasure himself. You.

How perverted he must seem right now, he thought regrettably.

I don't know if I'm good at making head cannon, or is it one shots? Where it goes like:

Monster! Character!: who doesn't enjoy this and that but does twiddle in a little bit of chess

But I wanna make one about monster König and a veterinarian reader that he mistakes as a doctor, but they help out all the same.

Stay tuned. Also let me know if anyone else has some something similar so I'm not accidentally copying or something.

Konig x FemReader Pt. 2

Bing bong, I'm gonna post Konig's pov in a few...I'm gonna try updating some other fics first so gimme a few.

Warnings: Little bit of violence, mentions of 'implied' rape. Knife use, some blood description. And spit. *wink*

Again, I used Bing to translate so if its patchy then I am sorry.

Enjoy<3

So, you weren't dead yet. But damn did you wish you were. You woke up to the sound of screaming coming from other rooms. However when you opened your eyes, you were met with a dark fabric over your eyes. There was a bag over your head, and after pulling at your arms you found you were also restrained to a chair.

Lovely, you thought bitterly.

You just close your eyes and focus on the sounds around you. There were some people speaking, sometimes yelling. You couldn't make out what they were saying but you were positive it wasn't in English. However, the pained screams and pleas that followed definitely sounded English.

You could hear footsteps as well, but you didn't know if you wanted them knowing you were awake yet. You won't get anywhere if you kept playing opossum, you knew that much. But you also knew that whatever was going to happen to you was inevitable unless you found a way to escape wherever you were.

As if on que, you heard footsteps walking your way. You listened as they got closer before eventually pausing. Your head was still tilted down so it looked as if you were unconscious.

"Bist du schon wach, kleine Maus?" Your eyebrows furrowed at the recognition of that voice. Your head tilted up and you hear a soft 'aah'. Before he could speak again you spoke up instead.

"If this is the same guy that attacked me in that building, you're gonna need to get a translator cause I don't know what the hell you're saying." You raise your head some more as you hear the protest whining of an old door hinge. Then those heavy footsteps came closer to you. You sat up as straight as you could.

An amused chuckle made your skin break out in goosebumps. He paused in front of you and you could hear him doing something. When he spoke again, his voice was below you. He was kneeling down in front of you.

"I know English. Do not worry Fräulein. Did you rest well?" You grit your teeth at his question.

"You mean that concussion you gave me? Wonderful. The chair I woke up tied to? Oh, and the bag over my head was such a nice touch." You couldn't help the bitter sarcasm spewing from your lips. You were in a shitty situation and you were scared. There wasn't much else you could do to mask it.

The man before you let out a little chuckle again. You jumped as you felt the bag being ripped off your head. Your eyes had to adjust to the lighting even though it was pretty dim. You blink and feel your skin grow cold at the sight of him before you. He was still wearing that hood, and his eyes were still as chilling as they were before.

"So sassy. Tell me, are you scared Fräulein?" He drops the bag on the floor and stands up to his full height. "I could imagine the things that are running through your little head." His hand found the side of your cheek and you pulled your head away from his touch. He tisked at your little action, letting his hand fall behind your neck and graze across your skin.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance." Your voice was low, threatening but not as menacing as you hoped. "Because when I get free of these restraints, I'm going to kill you myself."

"Ah well," He laughed, having to pause before he continued. "Will you? Really?" He suddenly had your throat in his grip, making you tilt your head up to look at him with a gasp. "You could have let me die in that building, yes? That helicopter crash could have killed me, maybe wounded me. You had enough time to jump out the way but-" He squeezes your throat and inches closer to you. "You saved me instead. Why?"

He finally let's go of your throat and you gasp for air, glaring at him as he finally settles in front of you. He kneels in front of you so he could get a better view of you. You hold his stare for maybe thirty seconds. He was very patient. You finally looked away, his gaze was heavy, but curious. Not to mention his eyes...

"I don't know." You answer slowly and sitting back in your chair. "I-" you went to answer but closed your mouth. "Look I don't know, force of habit to help teammates I guess?"

"I am not one of your teammates." He chimes in quickly.

"Yeah I know that! I don't know why I saved your sorry ass! Maybe I didn't want your blood splattering on me and ruining my clothes!" You glanced at your lap and you froze. "Where's my uniform?" You just noticed you were wearing what looked like loose jogging pants. Your eyes narrowed as you looked at your shirt. It was a large loose grey shirt.

"Oh yes, I changed them. You had lots of pockets, lots of hiding spots. I didn't want you pulling a weapon out of nowhere." He laughed and reached behind him. He pulls out your pocketknife. The one you stabbed into his thigh before running. "Dein kleines Messer." He smiled and opened it.

You watched carefully, feeling your heartbeat picking up. The thought of this fuck changing you and seeing you nude made your heart sink but you had bigger problems now. You couldn't help the line that spilled out. "Oh I was wondering where I left that."

He laughed a dry little laugh, tilting his head up at you and twirling it slowly. "I should return it. Ja?"

He held the knife up and you knew exactly what he was about to do and you yelled quickly. "No don't!" You squeezed your eyes shut but never felt the knife make contact with your skin. You look and see the knife tip hovering above the fabric of the pants.

"Ah you're right, I wouldn't want to have to change your pants again." You made a face at his remark. He was smirking, you just knew he was. "The first ones were hard to get off." He instead brings the knife up to your lips, pressing the tip of the blade to your lips. "I should repay you for those wounds you gave me. But it can wait."

You kept still as the knife slowly drags across your lips. "Yeah, and who knows what fucking blood diseases you have hidden on that knife-" He suddenly sliced your bottom lip, making you cry out in shock. You already tasted the blood spreading across your tongue. Your eyebrows furrow together and you look up at him. "Great now I have it too."

"You do not know when to quit talking." He was observing the blood on the knife. "I will fix that soon." He looks at you, and you can see the smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

You smiled back.

Then you spit the blood that had pooled in your mouth onto his face and mask. He yelled something in German and you laughed. He stood up quickly and used the end of his foot to tip your chair back. Your eyes widened as it tilted and you stare up at him. He scoffs and pushes the chair back with force. You fell back with a thud, groaning slightly. Then you laughed and let your head lay against the concrete floor beneath the chair.

"I should have my men come here and teach you a lesson." He hissed while walking up to you. "I'll enjoy hearing your cries for mercy." He puts his boot on your chest and presses down.

"Oh?" You coughed out, trying to keep your voice steady. "What's your name? So I'll know what to scream for you- fuck!" You groan as he pressed his foot down harder. He growled as he turned his body, walking away from your tied self. You thought he was leaving but never heard the door close.

"I will be back, and I will not be so sweet next time." You heard the door close again. You were left on the floor in a dark room. There was a little bit of light streaming in through an open window on the door. Other than that, the room looked like an old-fashioned prison cell. You started twisting your body. You flip the chair that was on its back to lay on its side. You began to slowly twist your hands and try to find a loose strap in your restraints.

⁘Translations⁘

Bist du schon wach, kleine Maus? - Are you awake yet, little mouse?

Fräulein - Miss

Dein kleines Messer. - Your little knife.

Ja? - Yes?

Recom Miles Quaritch x FemReader

I am really getting annoyed with the spam bots that follow you...how do I stop them? Anyways, here's a lil something new. Hope ya'll enjoy!

No Warnings applied

Check out my A03 account here&lt;3

The only true thing to be said about yourself, was you were technically a God. Not literally. But in a cosmic, or comedic sense, yes. You were one of the main scientists who restored deceased soldiers' memories and brought them back to life as a recombinant(recom) as the soldiers called them. Stable bodies 100%, perfectly reanimated. You were damn good at it too

And like a God, your believers shot you out of the sky with greed in their eyes and fangs in their smiles.

You were promoted to main physician/doctor or Medical adviser for the Na'vi soldiers. Some bullshit terminology like that, they just needed some smart ass to babysit the blue cats in case they get colds. A fucking joke that was. You had already perfected their bodies to withstand more disease, more injury than humans or animals could. They were perfect. YOU made sure of that and everyone on your team knew that.

And here you are anyway.

You were scribbling away, glancing up once in a while to look at the clock. You have a new patient arriving soon and you only looked over the picture and title. Colonel. Copying down the last patient's file, just Incase she came back with any side effects. She reported headaches, weird visuals when she slept. That was normal with every patient and headaches were mostly due to stress build up. You were hoping to see her again today, she's always cracking awful jokes that made you chuckle.

As sick as it makes you feel, you actually took your job seriously. You hated being downgraded and you wished whoever higher ups made that decision for you, would get alien bird shit in their coffee. However, you didn't hate it. Not really. You had patients you looked forward to every day, sure there was maybe one or two that gave you hell, really it's the human guys but everyone else respected you. Truly. They haven't forgotten your birthday yet either. You have pictures with most of the recom soldiers and it really made you feel good.

A thought crossed your mind, something that made that good feeling drop. You glanced down at your cabinets, seeing the lock and sighing. You haven't sent anything out yet, you'd hope they could last a few more-

Knock knock knock.

You jumped and stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in your pants and shirt. "Come in." You watch the door open, and a tall blue figure ducking into the doorframe to fit inside. He looked at you, then around the office as he got inside. You smiled softly. "Good to see you moving around so early. Most get sick for another hour." You held your hand out. "I'm Dr. Linear."

He was still looking around. "What is this, like a principal's office?" He laughed softly. When he finally looked down at you, he bent down to shake your hand. "No disrespect to you Doctor. It's just nicer than most offices I've seen." he spots the pictures behind you. "Lotta personal touches." That american accent touched his voice.

You had a tight smile on. "Well when you work my position for a while, you grow close to your patients. In this environment it's easy to get the life drained out of you. I find a personal touch eases a lot of people in a state of comfort." You sit back down. "Not too comfortable though. Those chairs aren't cozy for Na'vi." You noticed his face as he sat, even his tail seemed irritated. He glanced at you again and smiled. "Colonel Miles Quaritch, correct?" You flipped his file open and read over a few lines. "We won't go over personal details yet, I just want to make sure you're feeling okay."

He never stopped staring at you. You weren't uncomfortable with it, but it made you wonder what he was thinking. Most soldiers need a few minutes to get accustomed to their new height and how things feel or look around them. You did hear he got to rest for an hour. He probably hasn't seen a human for this long yet. When he didn't say anything else, you continued. "A few yes or no questions. If you're unsure of one, just say unsure. Any nausea or dizziness?"

"No."

"Muscle spasms or twitches."

"Slightly, in the legs." He watched you write in your notes.

"Unusual bleeding?"

"No."

"Cough or vomiting?"

"No."

"Since it's only been about 3 hours, we'll have to wait a while before I can ask anything else." You close the book and stand, taking your flashlight with you. "Mind showing me where the spasm is?" He reaches down and lifts his pants leg. You kneel down and feel the muscle in his leg.

"Below the knee," he watches. "It stopped an hour ago." You nod and stand up again. You motion him closer, placing a hand on his cheek and checking his eyes, flashing a light for a minute and watching his pupils dilate. His ears perking up and down, and again, his tail flicked side to side. A smile touches your lips. "You'll get used to the tail, the ears though," You place the pen light down. "I think it's in touch with emotion and it's a downside that comes with the new body. That should be everything for now. Any questions or concerns you want to discuss with me before you start physical training?"

Miles was staring at you hard, his jaw flexing and you even saw his tail swing a few times. He had a lot to say, smart remarks he decided to keep to himself, until he can understand you better. His ears perk up and he smiles. "Sure." He stood up, crossing his arms. "Not to start any fires, but if you hate your job, just say so."

"Excuse me?" Your head tilted back, raising an eyebrow as you watched him.

He chuckles. "I can read you like a book, even without these new eyes or senses. You don't have to like me either 'cause I know you don't." He smirked. "Don't pretend to like people and think it would make your job easier. It doesn't." You didn't know it, but he was baiting you. How you reacted would let him know what you were really hiding. If you were calm and laughed off his words, then you actually did enjoy your job, and didn't mind the banter he brought.

"I think you've got it wrong here." You put your hands on your hips and he grinned at your reaction. His prediction was correct. "If you think I don't like you already, you're correct. My job isn't to like you, it's to make sure you're still alive." You take a step forward. "I don't pretend to like anyone here, I have my list of goods and bads in this place and I wouldn't mind telling a few off if given the chance." Your figure was tense now, and your face was the opposite of when he first walked in. This was going much better than he thought. "Lastly, nothing makes my job easier. Pretending or not, I'm stuck here. I've accepted that. Just because you're still high up in command doesn't mean you can waltz in and control my office." You were glaring now, and he just found it adorable from his height. "Now, come back in another 3 hours after your physical training and we can get this all out of the way. Then maybe if you're careful, we won't have to see each other ever again."

Usually at this part of the meeting, you would offer your patient a sucker. It was a funny idea someone gave you, so you started ordering suckers and some cheap candies. Either that or stickers. Grown ass soldiers still act like children and it made your day sometimes. But you highly doubted this man deserved anything out of the mystery bucket.

He was smiling now, but he gave a nod. He didn't say anything else as he turned and ducked out of your office. Once the door was closed, he chanced a peak through a slightly broken blind of your office window. You were slowly rubbing your face in the middle of the office, turning and walking towards the windows that pointed outside. "Never see each other again huh?" Quaritch had enough info on you now. He would have to peek at your work file later, but he could tell you were sour about something. That, and a pretty face like yours getting pissed because of him was entertaining. He didn't expect to get something out of you so quickly. He licked his lips before continuing down the hallway. "We'll see about that, Dr. Linear."

~~~

You eyeball the choices between dry bagel or dry wheat bread. You've had both for so long you could stomach either one. You decided the bagel would suffice being it could be fixed with a cheese spread or just taste healthier with the seeds sprinkled on top. Your plate now had pasta with meat and a bagel, all you were missing was juice. You’d usually drink coffee but after having 4 cups already, you decided you shouldn’t risk a heart attack. Thoughts and worries kept forming in your head, you weren’t paying attention either and mindlessly sat at a table. You kept staring at the bagel, lost in another world further than this one; you didn’t notice the plate being set down in front of you and a tall body sitting down. You then thought back to the coffee you had on your desk and wished you had brought it instead.

You pick up the bagel and bite into it, but don’t pull away from the bread. You were still. Miles watched with some concern. Finally he cleared his throat. “Are you gonna eat that or-” He couldn’t finish because of your coughing fit. You set the bread down and stare at him. After calming down, he smiled. “Ah there you are. Looked like a completely different person for a second there.” You didn’t say anything, instead you quietly sipped your juice. “I acted like an ass earlier. I’m sorry.”

That didn’t sound sincere. You looked up at him and sighed, placing your juice box. “That’s the only apology I’m gonna get?”

“Did you expect more?” His ear twitched.

“You did scare the living shit out of me just a second ago.”

“You did that yourself, doctor. Your head was in LaLa Land.” He waved his hand around. You sigh, tearing a piece of bread off and eating it, chewing quickly. He looked down at his own plate and gave an experimental taste of the pasta and meat. Still tastes like the same shit he ate before, but somehow worse. Saltier, slimey, the meat was tolerable but chewy.

“So, do you still want to interrogate me about my shitty work life? Or have you come to criticize my eating choices too?” You poke and stab some pasta with the fork. There was a chuckle and you had to glance up at him. He was watching you, those strange golden eyes filled with a curiosity you began to suspect had no end.

“I’m actually wonderin’ why I didn’t get to pick out of this uh, mystery box I heard so much about.” He smirked. “The other were talkin’ about it like it was gold.”

You had to look down to hide the smile. So they must have either ratted you out, or teased him for not getting a candy. It’s just a piece of candy. You look back up. “You ended our meeting in a rude manner, I didn’t see a reason for you to pick out the box.”

His ears flattened but his face was still relaxed. They betrayed his need to hide the annoyance. “So, what you’re saying is I have to be good at our meetings in order to pick out of this box?” Now he was leaning forward, as if you were asking him to do the impossible.

“Colonel, are your soldiers teasing you because you didn’t get a candy?” You tried to ask without smiling. You heard a snort and turned your head. Down the table, four Recoms sat, their bodies rigid and still. One of them was shaking and you realized he was laughing. When you looked at Quaritch his ears were laid back and his tail was flicking back and forth. He was looking at the group while his jaw clenched.

“No, nobody is getting teased.” He stuffed his mouth full of pasta. You nodded slowly, eating some more of your bagel. You heard someone clear their throat and continue talking as if they were having this conversation seconds ago.

“You still have to come by the office to finish up your questioning. I’ll be at the physical training area to check off some things.” You stood up and even with Quaritch sitting, he was still taller than you by two heads. “I’ll see you then.” You turned to the other group and made a face. “None of you are getting candy on your next visit.” And as you turned around to leave, the table erupted into groans and even a gasp.

As you walked away, Miles’ ears perked up, a smile on his face as the soldiers whined about the punishment. It was literally childish to be so upset over a piece of sugar. Yet here he was, however, hoping to get a piece by the end of the day.

I took care of my friend when he was sick and hurting. I missed school to stay with him. I gave him medicines, I got him food and water (went to the store and got him Gatorade) and I let him sleep in my bed. And I told him I would stay with him till he got better.

He called me a bastard because I 'kicked him out' while he was still sick.

So that day my family was having a bbq, and I wanted to go but I didn't know if I should have left him at my apartment because I didn't know if my roommate would have said something about him being there when I wasnt. I thought this was reasonable.

He said he would go to someone else's place, he even texted and asked them if he could go and they said yeah. So he left, and I even offered to drive him there and then when he was feeling better, he can come back and get his truck.

He said I was kind of a bastard for kicking him out.

What?

What.