Trusting and Lusting // a 1970s DreamNotFound fanfiction

Trusting and Lusting

Author's note: Editing this story to be sfw was a huge challenge because so much of the original version was nsfw. To be fair, this version still has some suggestive scenes and moments, but the depictions are much less explicit than they were before. Overall I believe I did a great job of remaining faithful to the original, so I hope you enjoy the final result!

Fun fact: In late December I was sick in bed with a fever so high that I'm not even sure if I was fully awake or not when I generated the plot for this story (but do not worry, I am okay now!). Please enjoy!

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Whether on purpose or by accident, people have encouraged Dream to doubt his capabilities. Now, despite the three degrees that hang upon Dream's wall in his clinical office, self-confidence still eludes him.

Today's shift at the hospital lasts until 9pm, so the clinician leaves his job after nightfall. He is accustomed to long days of assessing patients and writing diagnoses, but his shoulders sink with relief while he drives. At least I know I'm a good driver. Dream has never crashed his car before, so he hopes that tonight will not prove him wrong.

During Dream's youth, older adults often suggested that women were too hormonal to learn how to drive safely. Every time, his younger self would reveal her driver's license. In response, the adults would conjure the convenient argument that just because women could drive, that did not mean they should drive. Dream still tries to forget those times, yet even with three degrees to accompany his driver's license, those conversations still haunt him.

Throughout the city, moths flutter beneath dark skies and glowing street lamps. Neon signs flash bright colors, advertising bars and clubs. Late-night bands play on street corners. A street vendor sells 50-cent hot dogs to passing customers. Pedestrians stroll along concrete sidewalks. Some people lean against brick walls, smoking cigarettes and staring at nothing.

Dizzy with exhaustion, Dream drives. He fantasizes about a hot shower and about sleeping under soft blankets. His journey reaches its end when he sees his apartment complex looming in the distance. Several of the building's windows are illuminated while others are dark. When he reaches the complex, Dream parks his car in the underground parking lot. He turns off the engine, gathers his belongings, and heaves himself off the driver's seat. Cold, damp air fills his lungs as he crosses the underground parking lot. Yellowish lights flicker above his head. With one hand he carries a stuffed file folder, full of papers that he must review before tomorrow. If he had more energy, he might whistle to hear the high-pitched sound echo off the walls.

Dream may possess a perpetual fear of inadequacy, but at least he knows his job is vital. He is not an average clinician: he is the only licensed dermatologist at the hospital who was not born male. Dream is proud of his accomplishments, but he usually avoids discussing dermatology - the study of skin - and his life story with outsiders. Even his roommate knows almost nothing about his job or his past.

While he climbs the apartment building's staircase, the dermatologist removes the lanyard from his neck. He slips his white hospital coat off his shoulders, he folds the fabric, and he drapes it over one shoulder. When Dream reaches the fourth level, he steps off the staircase and walks along the hallway toward his unit. Listening to his own footsteps, he glances down at the ID badge that dangles from his lanyard.

F
Dream Adell
Licensed Dermatologist, Sunny Valley Hospital

Like other badges, Dream's ID displays his biological sex before his name. Maybe someday this will stop bothering him, but he has not drifted into the abyss of complacency yet.

Upon reaching Unit 404, Dream lifts his gaze and slows his pace. If his roommate asks about his day, the dermatologist will respond that it was fine. Like always, he will hope that his words are true.