Devourthedragon
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"I know what a breakup looks like," Daniel says. "The better question is, why are you coming to me about it? I'm the one who broke up your little sham."
"This is what humans do, don't they?" Armand asks, letting his voice drop. "Crashing on their friends' couches when there's a blip in their romances?"
"Except we're not friends. We're actually very much not friends." Daniel shrugs, as if it's all the same to him. "And I can't imagine the great vampire Armand deigning himself to sleep on my fucked-up sofa. That thing's been here since the nineties."
"Well," Armand only says. "I saw you have a guest bedroom."
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From: Owen A. Williams [[email protected]]
To: Rebecca Johnson [[email protected]]Ms. Johnson,
I am terribly sorry for my misunderstanding and my wasting your time. I won’t bother you any longer.
Owen A. Williams
From: Rebecca Johnson [[email protected]]
To: Owen A. Williams [[email protected]]i’m fucking with you. it is me. 64780417419 text me
Rebecca
Conversations between two people who have not been the same in 10 years.
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Aspirin or Sorrow (A Non-Comprehensive List of What the Dead Don't Need) by AMRV_5
Fandoms: MASH (TV)
08 Jul 2022
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There were universal truths. Slice a man open, he’ll bleed. Push him, he’ll fall. Stop his heart, he’ll die.
What did it make a man who broke the rules? More than human? Less?
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Or: An operation gone wrong lands Hawkeye square in the middle of a medical mystery he'd rather not be participating in.
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“I’ve never been here before. It’s charming, just not my usual scene,” the man says, smirking a bit. Hawkeye doesn’t read any humor in that smirk.
“A special occasion then. To what do we owe this rare honor?” Hawkeye asks. The man stares into his drink and shakes his head ruefully.
“I just learned that my wife has been cheating on me,” the man says, a wry smile on his lips. Hawkeye opens his mouth to commiserate because wow, no fun, but then the man follows up that depressing statement with, “with my little sister,” and that blows Hawkeye’s paltry words of comfort out of the water.
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In which Rosie is forced to witness two men meet, drink copiously, and teach each other that it's never too late to be happy.
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Hawkeye turned in his arms, setting his chin on his hands, his palms flat over BJ’s sternum.
Their eyes met. BJ’s breath caught, his chest warming—God, was Hawkeye lovely. BJ told him so.
“With this nose?” Hawkeye asked, crossing his eyes.///
The war ends. Life doesn’t.