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emilygrayce91 · 4 months ago

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From Bucharest

Chapter 5 - Rusted

Trigger Warning - 18+ for Violence, Sexual Themes, Trauma, Torture, Drugs, Death, Language.

If you’re new to this story, start at the beginning: Masterlist From Bucharest

The first thing Bec noticed when she regained consciousness were the metal shackles around her wrists and the cold concrete floor beneath her. Her head pounded and she felt like she was going to throw up.

"What the fuck?" she moaned, rolling onto her side. She tried but failed to rub her head, the shackles straining against the chain bolted to the ground.

It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before she could make out a small metal cot in the corner and nothing else.

"James?" she whispered.

No reply.

Bec dragged herself over to the cot and pulled herself up onto it. Her vision blurred, and she had to swallow back another mouthful of bile.

She couldn't make out much beyond the cell door besides several shadows and a few flashing red lights. "Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing through the small space.

"Professor Fegan," a voice crackled overhead, coming from a small speaker in the corner. Bec startled, turning to face the corner where the disembodied voice was coming from.

"Where am I?" she asked, tucking her knees under her chin. She still wore her slacks and a long sleeved shirt, but the cell was cold and the back of her neck was sticky and wet from the blood that had dripped from the large gash near the base of her skull.

"I have to thank you. We had only anticipated bringing you in, but your capture led to someone...a bit more valuable," the voice spoke again.

"Who are you?" Her head was spinning, and absolutely nothing was adding up. She was nothing, a nobody. And James...where the hell was James. Had he been the one to bring her in? But why? Why all the effort to keep her safe, just to turn her over. Nothing made sense.

"That's not important at this time. But I do need you to listen very carefully to me. Can you do that?"

Bec remained silent. The voice was patronizing, with a slight accent, but it didn't sound Romanian. Close, but slightly different. She couldn't place if it was a regional accent she hadn't heard before or originating from an entirely different place.

"Ms. Fegan?"

"Fuck you," she spat.

"I was hoping we could do this the easy way, but I see now that may not be possible."

The static cut off, and the presence of the voice left the room. A large clang rang out from the other side of the cell and two men dressed in familiar tactical gear stood on the other side of her cell door.

Behind them, a portly little man, balding except for a tuft of hair near his forehead, held a clipboard, feverishly jotting something down.

"Please confirm you are indeed Rebecca Fegan from Lansing, Michigan. 32, birthday September 21, 1993," the little man finally asked, peering over a small pair of glasses that were sliding through sweat that was profusely trickling down his forehead and face.

"Who are you?" she asked, ignoring his questions.

"Confirm...Rebecca Fegan. Aged 32. Born September, 1993."

"I'm not answering any of your questions until you answer one of mine," she said, standing slowly from the cot so as not to jostle her head. She neared the cell door as far as her shackles would permit. "Who are you?"

The little man adjusted his glasses, sighed, and handed his clipboard to one of the agents. Nearing the cell door, he folded his hands over his protruding stomach, eyeing her like a small boy might peer at an ant hill through a magnifying glass.

"Ms. Fegan, you are not in any position to make demands, let alone threats. Do you realize who we are?"

A single name came to mind, something James had mentioned several times. "HYDRA?"

"That is correct." He scratched his chin, visibly pondering something that made him chuckle. "Interesting that Bucky remembered, but that is not important now." He waved his hand, slowly pacing back and forth. "Ms. Fegan, I need you to corporate, at least a little, or...certain measures will need to be taken. Do you understand?"

"Fuck you," she said again, sitting back down on the cot and turning away from him.

"I had really hoped to avoid this. You seemed like such an intelligent person on paper, but alas." The metal clanging of the cell door sliding open had Bec turning back to face the men.

One of the tactical agents was on her, forcing her onto her back. She struggled, kicking and clawing, but he was strong, abnormally so. A small sting came under her ear, and she quickly realized the agent had injected her with something. She could still make out the men moving over her, but every part of her body had gone numb, and she was unable to speak.

"Perhaps some pain will be a little more persuasive," the little man said, smiling over her.

************************************************************************

The feeling of total powerlessness over her own body was almost more than Bec could handle. She would've spilled all the beans about herself, including that one time she stole a pair of socks for absolutely no reason, but even her vocal cords were frozen.

Her body was tossed into a large chair and her wrists were shackled to the arm rests. A pic line was placed in her left arm, attached to a bag of what looked like saline hanging from an IV stand. She could also make out numerous stainless steel vital monitors and operating machines. The dials whirred and and beeped, tracking her heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature.

The portly man rolled in front of her, his plump form nearly breaking the small doctor's chair beneath him. Small embroidery on the front of his newly donned doctor's coat read Dr. Pirogov.

"Ms. Fegan." He slid a syringe from his chest pocket and stared at it, twirling it between his fingers. "This contains a small dose of a drug similar to the well known haloperidol. Also known as Haldol, that medication is commonly used to treat nerves and other emotional conditions. This drug, however, is ten times more potent and in small doses such as this, can cause agonizing pain throughout the entire nervous system."

Bec wondered if her eyes had widened in response despite the sedative they had given her, but her head just slumped to the side, and she knew the screams of panic could only be heard by her inside her own head.

Dr. Pirogov slid his chair closer so that his knees were nearly touching her shins. He leaned in close, and she could smell stale cigarettes and body odor wafting off his still slightly sweaty skin.

"Reverse it," he said to someone behind her, and slowly she began to feel her fingers and toes again. The prickly sensation of her body coming back to life. She shuddered, trying with all her strength to pull out from under the shackles around her wrists and ankles, but there was no where for her to go.

Bec looked around the room frantically, hoping someone would show some pity on her, when her eyes halted on a figure to her left.

James.

But he didn't look like James anymore. In place of his hoodie and jeans, he wore similar tactical gear to the other HYDRA agents, his metal arm on full display.

And his eyes. There was something off about his eyes. He stared at her, but the recognition was gone. They were empty, unfeeling and almost...unaware.

Dr. Pirogov held the syringe out in James' direction. "Would you like to do the honors. It's only fair since you were the one to ultimately bring her in."

James held Bec's stare as he moved forward and took the syringe. Bec didn't know what to make of it. She hadn't known James that long, but she could just sense that this wasn't him.

Something had happened to him.

"James, please don't do this," she whispered, as he poised the syringe over left forearm.

There was no recognition, not even a flash of acknowledgement that he heard her.

"сделай это," Dr. Pirogov commanded.

The pain was horrendous. Bec screamed, her head snapping back against the chair, sending another blinding slash of agony through her skull and across her vision. Everything burned, even her blood felt as if it were boiling.

She kept her eyes on James through the pain, his own hollow and unfeeling. He dropped the syringe on a nearby surgical table and stepped back, taking position behind Dr. Pirogov who stood and began pacing back and forth in front of her.

"Now that I have your undivided attention, Bec. I need you to confirm that you are in fact Rebecca Fegan, aged 32, born September 1993."

Dr. Pirogov continued to recite the questions from his clipboard, but Bec stopped hearing him. His lips continued moving, but all she could focus on was James over the doctor's shoulder.

He was gone, only a shell of himself, and if she didn't start complying, so soon would she be nothing but the skin around her bones, just like him.

#bucky barnes #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #marvel mcu #sebastian stan #winter soldier #bucky barnes fanfiction

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whumpees · 2 years ago

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The X-Files whump list

Synopsis: The X-Files focused on the professional lives of two FBI special agents, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, who are charged with investigating unusual and unsolved cases, known as X-Files, that involved elements of the supernatural or paranormal. Some of these cases forwarded the series’ mythological story arc and involved the investigative duo’s moving closer toward uncovering a vast government conspiracy regarding the existence of extraterrestrials.

Whumpee: fox mulder played by david duchovny

Seasons: 11 (1993-2018) (218 eps)

Movies: 2

_______________________________

S01

Ep2: kidnapped, held down on a stretcher, restrained in the stretcher and given a sedative injection by force & oxygen mask put on his face, delirious (half awake), in an operation room, scully got him out and he looked confused & shocked & wasn't walking well? He forgot how he got kidnapped

Ep5: mini attack & lifts his shirt for paramedics to bandage his torso

Ep10: mini attack & bruised cheek. Thrown against the ground & limping & using crutches

Ep12: suffocating from smoke, collapse on the floor and helped to walk by firemen

Ep13: shot in the leg and falls on the floor, laying in a stretcher unconscious with an oxygen mask & leg bleeding, recovering in the hospital (the whole things was very brief and boring)

Ep14: hit on the head and falls on the ground then hit again and knocked out briefly

Ep20: attacked by insects, hospitalized & has bruises on his face

_______________________________

S02

Ep1: found passed out

Ep15: stabbed or something in the arm by magic or whatever and falls on the ground & scully finds him laying on the ground

Ep16: flash forward: brought to the hospital in a critical condition, hypothermia, bad eye bruising, but in a bathtub to warm him, his heart stops and the scene is cut

Ep17: thrown at the ground multiple times, a substance gets in his eyes and he's almost blinded,dragged out side of the submarine and falls from a high distance, unable to see properly & difficultly moving, the scene from last episode continues and he his in a bathtub. Defibrillation, in the hospital for days unconscious, woke up and speaking with difficulty

Ep18: attacked by a gorilla and falls on the ground, hit by light and then found unconscious with his head bleeding

Ep19: "aging fast", rescued & passed out in hospital

Ep25: sleep deprived, loses his temper and attacks someone and so is manhandled. Asleep, wakes up started by scully, says he came home cuz he might have been running a fever, coughs. Sweating and breathing heavily a lil bit crying at the death of someone and comes home to scully with a fever and she puts him to bed and puts a cold cloth on his head. He won't listen to scully so she shoots him, falls unconscious, wakes up in someone's house bandaged, turned out he was being drugged and it's what caused him to get out of control to get everyone to distrust him. Holding his arm to his torso to stay still and not aggravate his wound. In a burning place, status unknown

_______________________________

S03

Ep1: found passed out under debris, carried to safty, passed out for 3 days with high fever

Ep4: fighting, thrown in the ground, hurt & winces in pain

Ep7: pushed across the room (srsly what's with the useless pain free pushes???)

Ep9: in a fight & pushed to the ground (i swear one more push and imma 😤 i just write them in case somebody cares about details 🙃)

Ep10: strangled, blood marks from the robe on his neck, knocked out & kicked multiple times, found unconscious with bloody face, carried while unconscious

Ep14: hit in the face, face treated by paramedic

Ep16: in a car accident, passed out, wakes up briefly and passes out again, wakes up in the hospital

Ep24: in a fight and thrown to the ground & a little hurt

_______________________________

S04

Ep1: smashed against a car & falls on the ground, meets scully and she says "you're freezing, you're in shock."

Ep3: tranquillised, collapses, found paralysed with his eyes open, unresponsive, dragged by scully

Ep8: whipped, passed out on the ground in a prison cell then wakes up, held down by many men & injected something to take him to do "experiments" on him, woke up tied in bed, worms entering his nose and get through his eyes and whole face 🤮

Ep9: passed out in the cell in a fetal position, thrown away by an explosion, helped to walk by scully

Ep15: punched & stepped on

Ep23: woke up on the floor covered in blood (not his) & doesn't remember what happened, scully finds him in a bathtub trying to warm himself and says "you're in shock", gets a sudden severe headache, on the floor & comes to consciousness, headache again, slapped hard af lol, goes to a doctor to perform a certain procedure on him to trigger his memories, doc injects him with something, in a bed struggling like he's having seizures ( he's remembering things) & doc restrains him

_______________________________

S05

Ep2: puts his head next to scully while she's sleeping and cries silently (i don't list emotional whump but this one he looked so helpless i liked that 😂)

Ep3: a substance is sprayed all over him & is painful so he takes off his shirt & writhes in pain on the gound & seems delirious or smth

Ep4: attacked by smth and hurt his arm and has a scratch on his chest, is cold and scully says you might still be in shock, scully cuddles him and he sleeps like a baby on her lap, the scratch on his chest is bandaged

Ep5: collapses from gass

Ep11: chained & electrocuted, virtual reality: woke up in an ambulance & confused asks what happened & finds his arms burned from the electrocution, opens his eyes again, sweating & being rushed to the operating room, turns out those "doctors" want to experiment on him & he notices that and is dead scared and asks for scully to be his doctor, injected smth in his neck, wakes up, says "i feel sick", finds his arm cut and panics, nurse suffocates him with pillow, wakes up again with both his arms cut:: back in reality: tied to the machine that forced him to watch that virtual world, scully calls out for him but the machine druggs him to not answer her, scully gets him off the machine & he's unresponsive, she helps him walk

Ep12: eats drugged pizza & is found passed put & is slapped to wake up (& the scene is repeated but from mulder's narrative and he has difficulty speaking then passes out), "attacked" & wakes up in a car

Ep14: attacked & falls on the ground & a gun point at him

Ep18: blindfolded, his hands are restrained to the table, being interrogated & every time he doesn't "confess" they pull back his finger and he's in so much pain & screams, they finally break his finger & he's dying 😂😂, finger in a cast

Ep19: hysterically attacking someone cuz he thinks he's a monster & so he's manhandled, thought to be having psychosis so he's admitted to the hospital restrained in bed, injected smth & winces in pain, nurse turns off light so he can sleep and then the monster comes to him and he screams for help and begs the nurse to untie him but she dismisses him and thinks he's crazy so he just screams all night 😂😂

_______________________________

S06

Ep3: (this man has to get him self in trouble all the time 😂😂😂) passed out in the water face down, pulled out of the water by rope while passed out, wakes up fast & coughs up water, punched several times but the men who saved him, jumps into the water, wakes up in hospital & says "i feel like hell"

Ep13: attacked by an octopus (but not shown) & has its marks around his neck & he can't breathe well, stumbles

Ep14: shot, scully rips his shirt & puts her hand in the wound to stop the bleeding

Ep21: unconscious and being digested alive by mushrooms, rescued and pulled from underground and put in an ambulance

Ep22: an image keeps triggering him every time he sees it: feels disoriented, hissing ears every, blurry vision, collapses in pain, later put in a psychiatric facility and is shown through the camera to act hostile & screaming, doctors said they're given him alot of drugs enough to put him into a coma put his brain has an "abnormal brain function"

_______________________________

S07

Ep1: abnormal brain activity that won't allow it to shut down or rest manifesting in episodes of aggression, attacks someone, manhandled against the wall, unresponsive & restrained in bed hands & legs, in a wheelchair while still unresponsive, given a high dose of a drug to lower his brain activity so he can walk to get him out of the hospital but results in a seizure & held down in bed

Ep2: still in bed like a zombie, injected smth in his head & is in pain , in handcuffs & still in hospital gown, on a table arms & legs tied & unconscious, being operated on, laying unconscious, wakes up & says to scully with difficulty: "help me"

Ep4: found in a basement sitting on the ground with hurt his arm (zombie attack) , arm bandaged

Ep6: shot in the arm (literally has no whump at all not even pain!!), being bandaged in hospital

Ep9: bitten by snakes & found unconscious on the ground by scully, in the hospital

E13: beaten by a character in a game

E16: attacked & drowned but doesn't pass out

Ep18: coughs blood, insect eggs are hatching in his lungs, unconscious in the operating room and the worms are being vacuumed from his lungs by a tube, unconscious in bed, wakes up & his voice is weak, gasps for air, "code blue", the docs are trying to stabilise him

Ep21: thrown to the ground by an explosion

Ep22: abducted by aliens

_______________________________

S08

Ep1: aliens doing experiments on him (honestly brutal ew), screaming, in scully's "dream" but it's actually real & shown later: naked & restrained to the chair by bars pierced through his hands & legs, his chest being cut open & screaming

Ep2: ( not actually mulder but someone masking as him but it looked good tho 🙂: jumps from a cliff, passed out on the ground), again shown in someone's dream but it's real: naked & unconscious, and again at the end of the episode

Ep14: found in a forest passed out.

Ep15: presumed dead, dug out of the grave, at the hospital

Ep16: flashback of the horrific experiments

Ep20: attacked & falls unconscious on the ground, scully treats his face

_______________________________

S09

(He was missing the whole season)

Ep19: appears in a prison cell, a soldier asks him "what are you thinking?" And mulder replies "where am i?", the man goes "wrong answer" and punches him in the stomach and he crumples to the ground, soldier: "no sleeping!", the man comes to ask him the same question again and "wrong answer!" And hits him, tries to hit him again but mulder resists but the man holds the weapon up his throat and is choking him, in the ground sleeping naked and the man comes again and shouts "no sleep!" and mulder is startled, he asks him again what is he thinking (basically torturing him into compliance) and mulder says "what should i be thinking?" The man says "you're a guilty man who did blah blah" and holds his stick up to hit him and shouts "say it!!" and mulder flinches, mulder submits and says "I'm a guilty man who did blah blah" and is shaking

_______________________________

S10

Ep2: ringing ears, falls on his knees and holds his head

Ep5: takes drugs and is high, wakes up in the hospital, in a wheelchair

Ep6: is shown with bruised and bloody face, flashback showing why he had the bruised face: in a fight, choked:: on the ground (sick from a disease spreading in the whole population), passed out in a chair, wakes up, someone picks him up and helps him walk

_______________________________

S11

None

_______________________________

Movies

The X-files: fight the future (1998)

Shot in his head & falls on the ground, wakes up at the hospital and tries to leave immediately and they try to stop him

Passes out on the ice (from exhaustion?), scully hugs him to keep him warm

The X-files: i want to believe (2008)

To be updated

#the x files whump list #whump lists #mulder whump #david duchovny whump #the x files whump #English whump #English whump lists

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hungry-skeleton · 5 months ago

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Typing this at nighttime at my place in a cold sweat thinking:

Considering your criteria on what makes a good mascot horror... mascot... you're telling me that someone like this guy:

... has the potential to fit at least half of your criteria?

Many people are already afraid of clowns to the point where the fear itself has a name (coulrophobia)

He has features that... kinda look terrifying in a different context? Including a lack of a mouth and just an overall somewhat uncanny look

He's from a pretty obscure and small video game series from around 1993 to somewhere in the early 2000s. The series includes the first one made for him (which is actually an English port of a Mickey Mouse game), the second is more original, followed up by a sequel, two... spin-offs? And a remake of the second game.

"But Rayman Chibi," I hope you say despite us only interacting at least twice now, "isn't this clown your son?"

To that I say, "... yeah, but like... I'm mothering a child who could have the potential to scare people, holy crap O_O"

To be fair, there are others that could also be potential horror mascots (Hello Kitty with her beady eyes and lack of mouth (similar to Kid Klown) and I think that one comic character named Boing Kid that tried to get up to Sonic's level and failed due to some immaturity on his creator's part), but I digress...

Anyways, that's my rant on why I'm scared that Kid Klown would probably be too good of a horror mascot. Thank you for reading, this was stupid of me.

Too cute for me personally lol but I get it

#an ask

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modelartist-demri · 2 years ago

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NEW ENTRY ON MY BLOG!

On October 29, 1996, Demri passed away of acute intoxication caused by the combined effects of opiate, meprobamate, and butalbital when she was only 27.

Demri and Layne in the Spring of 1990 by Krista Kay.

Her last few years, since around Thanksgiving 1993, her health began taking a turn for the worse. She told her mother she had been having fevers in excess of a hundred degrees. Austin told Demri the next time it happened, she should go to the hospital. The first of many hospitalizations happened shortly after. “She came in to the hospital for the first time at the end of November of ‘93. She was in until January of ‘94. She got out and was back in in March of ‘94 and at that time put on life support,” Austin recalled. “When she would be in, she would come in to the emergency room. They would admit her up into a medicine floor; then she’d go from the medicine floor to the Intensive Care Unit and life support, and then she wouldn’t die. So she’d go back to the medicine floor – she’d be on IV and antibiotics for a month. This went on and on and on. She had her lungs operated on twice. She had her heart operated on twice [she had a heart valve repaired and another replaced and the pacemaker implanted age 26]. She suffered miserably.” [1]

Jacque: “She was very sick in the end. She’d had open heart surgery and had nerve damage to her feet which were mostly numb. She had no body fat at all, and was cold all the time. Often the car’s heater would be on full blast, even on a nice day, everyone would be sweating and she’d be shivering and wearing a sweater.” [2]

According to Amber Ferrano, Dave Navarro was the one who brought up the endocarditis . They had the doctors check and found it on the back of Demri’s heart valve.

Demri with Dave Navarro ca. 1994 in a medical facility.

Amber Ferrano: “Dave was my go-to person as someone who had kicked to help Layne and Demri when various things came up with them regarding drugs because they had used with him in the past when Jane’s Addiction came through town and now clean. Dave was their inspiration. He was in AA, and though they didn’t believe in AA they loved him, he was non-jugemental and kind. They really wanted to show him they could get clean. Bob Timmins helped too. They thought if lifers could get clean because of him there was hope.

Dave was the one who brought up the endocarditis, asking if that is what she had. It was the first time we heard of it. All those times in the hospital. They ended up finding it on the back of her heart valve.”

While in the ICU, Austin said Demri was conscious but intubated – she had a tube inserted down her throat to help her breathe, which she despised. She would tell her mother, “I hate being fucking intubated. I can’t talk, and these people come and they ask me these fucking questions, and I can’t fucking talk, and I feel like a fucking fish in a fucking fishbowl.” She communicated by writing on a small blackboard with a piece of chalk. [1]

Despite the multiple hospitalizations and brushes with death, Demri continued using drugs. She had seemingly accepted that her addiction was going to kill her.

Amber Ferrano: “I brought mortuary books in to Demri at the hospital when Layne got back from New York in April of 1996. I, of course, shocked Demri and said I thought we could go coffin shopping. Of course when Layne got there she told on me. When she first saw them she was balling saying she didn’t want to die. Layne talked about all the issues. I said you have to be clean to fix those issues and they get less and less. The thing with them was people waiting outside their home with drugs as a way to befriend them or mailing it to them. It killed Layne when he got letters about people using. He didn’t write to glorify it, it was cathartic to work his way through it."

Barbara Dearaujo: “She was in and out of the hospital for months at a time before she actually passed away. I would go visit her and she had all the nurses going crazy. She put up all her drawings and flowers all over the walls and did things she wasn’t supposed to do like take off with her IV and go out and smoke. She was a wild child... My heart goes out to her mom. She was a good mother and she tried so hard to help Demri, but Demri was her own woman and she lived in the extreme always. She was a broken child. Grasping for something to relieve some deep pain that no one but her knew.”

One of the last photos of Demri alive, as far as her mum knew. Demri and her mum Kathleen on September 1996. Kathleen sent this photo to Memories of Demri instagram (no longer exists).

Donald John: “I was very close with Demri Parrott, knew her during her last year of life. I met her at the hospital through a friend and became very close to her. I used to visit her a lot while in the hospital, and we had some very deep spiritual conversations about everything, including her relationship with Layne from the start to the end. She even gave me a pair of sunglasses that was his. I used to read books to her and let her borrow a lot of my books, especially art books, to keep her busy. I used to hold her while she cried and watched her while she slept. I used to go outside with her when she wanted to smoke and when she was feeling better to walk, and met her mother. I even got to check out her mother’s home which had a lot of pictures of Demri of her modeling days and stuff. Sometimes on her breaks she would come to my apartment that was like 5 min walk away from the hospital. She would come over and we would do heroin together and paint pictures with my art supplies, sitting Indian style on the floor listening to music. Then when she was released from the hospital she stayed with me for a while in my place and even slept in the same bed with me, we never had sexual relations but were deep friends and something more. She and Layne at the time were pretty much over even though he visited her while in the hospital. Sometimes we would cuddle in bed and she was so skinny. When she would leave to do her errands around town she would sometimes come back with gifts, like one time I got a cool wallet from her and a necklace with an angel on it – at the time I had my first tattoo of an angel on my forearm. When me and Demri first met I was just smoking heroin, then I started shooting and when she found out she was very upset. Time had passed and I saw her frequently. Then I found out about her death.” [2]

The other of the last photos of Demri alive, as far as her mum knew. Demri and her mum Kathleen on September 1996. Kathleen sent this photo to Memories of Demri instagram (no longer exists).

Ryan Kalsbeck:“Demri was staying for a bit with me at my old apartment off 45th and Lake City Way, we had been friends for years by this point but her addiction was sad for me to see. We had long serious conversations about a lot of things. Personal, to say the least. But she always carried her Leather Modeling Portfolio with her everywhere she would go or where she was staying, but she made me promise to please hold on to this portfolio for her and don’t let anyone around it or in it and she would eventually have a solid place to bring it to and for safe keeping. I never let one picture wander off into anyone ever. I promised Demri I would guard it and I knew how important this was to her fading life. She was so afraid of loosing this or someone stealing it, probably swiping rare as f*ck photos of her and Layne, stacks of the two in different vintage clothing. But I had her portfolio in my possession for at least 1 year, and one day like normal she left my apartment and I was still sleeping. Said, ‘I’ll see you at the Off Ramp later tonight.’ I wasn’t surprised to not run into her that night, and this was one of the last times of her disappearing, no one hearing from her for months at a time. But she always popped up at someone’s place eventually. The story is deep, and thick, and personal for me to speak of.”

Terri Brannon: “Last time I saw her, I went over to Carolina Court to say goodbye because I was moving back to Arkansas. I had a very sad feeling when I hugged her. I knew in my heart I’d never see her again. She was so full of life back then. A wild gypsy child. Reminded me of myself many years before. It’s been years and years, but you never forget Demri. She is unforgettable.” [2]

Demri's graveyard at Miller-Woodlawn Memorial Park, Bremerton, Washington, USA

During her final days, Demri was staying with an older man named Tom, the father of a friend of hers, at his place in Bothell. According to Amber Ferrano, he was a drug dealer, Demri was staying with him because he had klonopin so she wouldn’t have seizures. Demri had lived something of a nomadic existence, staying with different people for periods of a few days to a few weeks at a time. Toward the end of her life, it became very difficult for her to find a place to stay.

On the afternoon of October 28, 1996, Tom drove Demri into Seattle. She told him she wanted a few things from a Fred Meyer grocery store. When he arrived at the store, Demri was unconscious, and he couldn’t wake her. He went into the store to pick up her things, leaving the car engine running so she wouldn’t get cold. He came out of the store, drove home, and still couldn’t wake her. He left her in the car unconscious so he could do his laundry. He eventually realized something was seriously wrong.

Demri was eventually brought in to the emergency room at Evergreen Hospital in Kirkland at 7:30 P.M. – two and a half hours after she first lost consciousness. Her mother got a phone call from the hospital, telling her Demri was there.

Kathleen asked the doctors if Demri could hear her. The doctors told her they thought she could. She clutched Demri’s hand and said, “Dem, if you have a choice to stay or to go, you don’t have to stay for me anymore.” During previous hospitalizations, she had always told her to fight, to to survive. This time was different. [1]

Jack Plasky: “The first time I met Layne was when he came by my studio after Demri passed. We hung out for about six or seven hours. We went through Demri’s pictures. We did not talk much, it was more like sharing with me his pain. He was not a rock god that day, just a regular person who wanted to share the loss with each other. We had a very strong bond based on our love and caring for Demri, and her feelings for us. I got a strong true feeling from him when he looked at Demri’s pictures, that life held nothing for him anymore.”

Ariel Layton: “Demri used to spend a lot of time with my girlfriend, Jana. She actually passed away in my friend Tom’s truck. I also ended up couch-surfing at Buddah’s around the same time as Layne shortly after she passed. He had photos of her everywhere, it was very sad.”

Kathleen Austin: “Derek loved Dem so much and nothing she did would ever change that. He spoke at her funeral, ‘If my sister got on the ferry in Seattle, she knew everyone on the boat by the time it reached Bremerton’.”

Clay: “Demri, it’s been 13 years [March, 2009] since you went to be with Jesus and I still miss you so much sweetie. I’m so glad we got to share all the time with each other before you left us. When we prayed and talked about Heaven and The Lord, it still makes me think about how I look forward to seeing you again and being with you forever. I hope all the world knows you are with Christ now and your faith in Him, so they can have the same hope we shared. I’ll always treasure your Bible your grandma gave me, until we are together again. Love you always, Clay.”

Brochure from Demri’s memorial service, which was held on November 2, 1996. Shared by Marisi Sojit and posted by “Comunidad Alice in Chains Chile” Facebook group. Found via Instagram: memoriesofdemri (no longer exists)

Carolyn Hart Gutierrez: “She was one of the most amazingly trusting, compassionate, openhearted persons I’ve ever known, albeit briefly. We went to the same high school, and she was a friend of my younger sister. I have often thought about her over the years. It broke my heart to hear that she was gone from this Earth. I always imagined that she grew up and became a happy little momma who would teach her children to believe in magic and that if you wish on a star your wish will come true, and to dance in the rain. That’s what I believe. Demri may be gone, but she is never forgotten.” [2]

Krisha Augerot: "She was like the sweetest, cutest, tiny hippie chick – just adorable and gorgeous. Never would I have ever imagined what happened to her happening".

Mara Whelan: “My dear soul sister, she extracted the truly beautiful parts of my soul and made me unafraid. She brought light into the depths of darkness from within. She loved all my ugliness and glorified my uniqueness.

Demri and I lived together, slept together as sister spoons, hitchhiked all up and down the coast and back and forth to Seattle from Everett a million times. We lived in Seattle together in multiple places. When we didn’t live together, even when the drugs came into play, we never lost each other.

She was the most beautiful soul that ever existed. What I would do to feel her hand in mine again.”

Barbara Dearaujo: “Demri was an artist herself, a model and someone who could always make you laugh. She was the type of person who when she entered a room full of people all eyes would be on her. She sucked the energy from the room and then blasted it back out at you and made you laugh and smile. She was so different than everyone else and everyone knew it who met her. Geeky, funny, caring, talented and unique girl who could of owned the world if she had not got caught up in what was going on around her. She was a star in her own right.”

*All the information has been collected from the "Memories of Demri" document shared on google drive*

Sources cited:

[1] Alice in Chains: The Untold Story by David de Sola

[2] Instagram: memoriesofdemri (no longer exists)

*VERY SPECIAL THANKS TO LITTLE QUEENIES AND MEMORIES OF DEMRI*

Some great Demri sites you MUST check:

Little Queenies tumblr blog - Demri info

Little Queenies' collection of Demri's photos hosted at Google Photos

Memories of Demri document hosted on Google Drive

Videos of Demri hosted on Google Drive

World of Demri on Instagram

World of Demri substack blog

Demri L. Parrott on facebook

Demri L. Parrott on Instagram

Demri Lara Parrott on Instagram

Demri Parrott Legacy on Instagram

Beautiful Demri Blogspot

#demri parrott #demri lara parrott #demri parrott murphy #demriparrott #demri lara parrott murphy #demri murphy #demri lara murphy #links #1996 #rip #gone but not forgotten #gone but never forgotten #gone too soon #memories #like #join #follow #subscribe

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warningsine · 2 months ago

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I have a friend from highschool asking for Spanish language tv series and films with dark, horror, and/or queer themes. So you know, the kind of things you would post about. I recommended Huesera: The Bone Woman, but do you have a list on the top of your head? Specifically I know there's a series about a woman who falls for the woman who slept with her husband or something but I can't remember the name or find it on Google.

"Specifically I know there's a series about a woman who falls for the woman who slept with her husband or something but I can't remember the name"

Oh, that's El embarcadero (The Pier) from the same guy that created La Casa de papel (Money Heist) and Sky Rojo.

I know that 30 Coins was a popular horror show, but I haven't checked it out (doesn't seem like my thing).

Not horror, but I loved Frontera Verde (mini series, crime drama with supernatural elements).

I don't know what your friend is into, but some horror films they could check out:

Alucarda (1977)

Santa Sangre (1989)

Impulse (2009)

Cold Sweat (2010)

Post Mortem (2010)

La casa muda (2010)

Casting (2010)

The Hidden Face (2011)

The Squad (2011)

The Skin I Live In (2011) (If I didn't include Almodóvar, I would combust. It's more of a thriller than horror, but I love it with all of its faults.)

Aftershock (2012)

Visceral: Between the Ropes of Madness (2012)

The Vanished Elephant (2014)

Secreto Matusita (2014)

Out of the Dark (2014)

Manos sucias (2014)

Cord (2015)

A Monster with a Thousand Heads (2015)

Francesca (2015)

The Entity (2015)

The Untamed (2016)

We Are the Flesh (2016)

Mother (2016)

No estamos solos (2016)

Downhill (2016)

Gritos del Monday (2016)

When Two Worlds Collide (2016)

Tigers Are Not Afraid (2017) (Lopez, the lady who directed "Night Country")

Cerulia (2017, short)

Luciferina (2018)

All Alone (2018)

Monos (2019)

Los que vuelven (2019)

Morgue (2019)

Films with queer stories/characters are endless nowadays, but here are some:

El cumpleaños del perro (1974)

Dona Herlinda and Her Son (1985)

Otra historia de amor (1986)

Strawberry and Chocolate (1993)

Don't Tell Anyone (1998)

Long Sleepless Nights (2000)

Y tu mamá también (2001)

Suddenly (2002)

eXXXorcisms (2002)

El edén (2004)

Amor (2006)

El malogrado amor de Sebastián (2006)

Broken Sky (2006)

XXY (2007)

Twisted Romance (2008)

The Fish Child (2009)

Plan B (2009) and Marco Berger's films in general

Undertow (2009)

The Last Summer of La Boyita (2009)

Leo's Room (2009)

Raging Sun, Raging Sky (2009)

Four W4lls (2010)

Drama (2010)

Mía (2011)

My Last Round (2011)

My Straight Son (2012)

Mosquita y Mari (2012)

To Heaven (2012)

Bad Hair (2013)

The Last Match (2013)

Feriado (2013)

The Golden Dream (2013)

The Last Match (2013)

Naomi Campbel (2013)

Igloo (2013)

Los Exóticos (2013)

I Am Happiness on Earth (2014)

Sand Dollars (2014)

Mala Mala (2014)

The Third One (2014)

4 Moons (2014)

Velociraptor (2014)

Holiday (2014) by Diego Araujo

Carmín Tropical (2014)

From Afar (2015)

The Firefly (2015)

In the Grayscale (2015)

Jess & James (2015)

I Promise You Anarchy (2015)

Dos besos: Troika (2015)

Viva (2015)

Esteros (2016)

Extra-Terrestrials (2016)

Memories of a Penitent Heart (2016)

La noche (2016)

Tamara (2016) by Elia Schneider

Dolphins Go East (2016)

You'll Never Be Alone (2016)

Disco limbo (2016)

El destello de la luna (2016)

Rara (2016)

Santa & Andrés (2016)

A Fantastic Woman (2017)

Chavela (2017)

Neptune (2017)

Retablo (2017)

I Dream in Another Language (2017)

Mariposas Verdes (2017)

A Winter to Remember (2017)

Woodpeckers (2017)

Silence Is a Falling Body (2017)

Casa Roshell (2017)

The Heiresses (2018)

Carmen y Lola (2018)

Marilyn (2018)

Inferninho ( 2018)

Ursinho (2018)

Callos (2018)

Fireflies (2018)

Cola de Mono (2018)

The Garden Left Behind (2019)

The Strong Ones (2019)

End of the Century (2019)

This Is Not Berlin (2019)

Tremors (2019)

Ema (2019)

Under My Dark Skin (2019)

Men of Hard Skin (2019)

Always Say Yes (2019)

Bittersweet Waters (2019)

Death Will Come and Shall Have Your Eyes (2019)

The Adopters (2019)

Brief Story from the Green Planet (2019)

Mapacho (2019)

Lemebel (2019)

Dance of the 41 (2020)

Drag Invasion (2020)

I Carry You with Me (2020)

Forgotten Roads (2020)

My Tender Matador (2020)

The Teacher (2020)

A Skeleton in the Closet (2020)

Asphalt Goddess (2020)

Nowhere (2020)

Things We Dare Not Do (2020)

Canela (2020)

One in a Thousand (2020)

The Beach of Enchaquirados (2021)

Nudo Mixteco (2021)

Tu Me Manques (2021)

Finlandia (2021)

Camila Comes Out Tonight (2021)

Wandering Heart (2021)

Everything at Once (2021)

Phantom Project (2022)

Sublime (2022)

Pornomelancholia (2022)

Anhell69 (2022)

A Male (2022)

Transfariana (2023)

Almamula (2023)

Cassandro (2023)

Straight (2023)

The Trace of Your Lips (2023)

Todos los incendios (2023)

The Fire (2023)

Since the Last Time We Met (2023)

The Astronaut Lovers (2024)

The Silence of My Hands (2024)

Demons at Dawn (2024)

Chabuca (2024)

Frida (2024)

Kill the Jockey (2024)

Most People Die on Sundays (2024)

Same, Again (2025)

The Nature of Invisible Things (2025)

Some TV series with queer stuff:

Todo lo otro

The Secret of the River

La Casa de las Flores (if your friend is ok with millennial telenovelas and campiness) and anything by Manolo Caro

Veneno

Maricón Perdido

#armeniuslaurant #lists #long post

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cultofstan · 2 years ago

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In case you were wondering what music was used in the trailer for The Nightmare Before Christmas back in 1993, it's called Cold Sweat by Vincent Frates. I always thought it was unused material created by Danny Elman but apparently it's just stock music.

Link: https://youtu.be/SHIFGC0QpNo?si=nktomOnqbGiKpdAA

#the nightmare before christmas #nightmare before christmas #TNBC #NBC #jack skellington #sally #oogie boogie #lock shock and barrel #danny elfman #tim burton #henry selick

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biryukzlodei-artblog · 11 months ago

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youtube

The short cartoon "Potets" (1992) was based on the text of the same name by Alexander Vvedensky. By legend he wrote it under the deep impression of the death of his father, which heartbroken him. Vvedensky created his text under the impression either of the approaching death of his father, or of his thoughts and ideas on this matter. The meaning is best understood by those viewers who see the cartoon after they have lost someone close to them already. The plot is about three sons seeking from their dying father an answer to a strange question: what is potets? "Potets is the cold sweat that appears on the forehead of the dead man. The dew of death." Meaning of a plot is about loss, growing up, the cycle of life and death.

The cartoon was never released but was shown on the Russian television (on February 4, 1993, the cartoon mistakenly ended up on the children's channel. Existential horror for the little ones. Someone got their first trauma.) after what it was put in the archives. It is unknown whether the film was banned or was simply forgotten, but for 15 years it was not available to viewers. In 2008, thanks to the efforts of a group of enthusiasts with the support of the screenwriter of the cartoon Marina Vishnevetskaya, "Potets" was digitized and posted on the Internet.

#Ты скажи-ка нам отец что такое есть потец.

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watching-pictures-move · 2 years ago

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Movie Review | Jurassic Park (Spielberg, 1993)

Scattered observations on the 3D re-release:

I don’t remember at what age I first watched the movie, but when I was ten years old, my parents got me the Special Edition VHS (which included a second cassette with extensive making-of features), at which point I proceeded to watch the movie every single day for…at least a few months, quite possibly a year. I don’t rewatch movies with anywhere near the same frequency these days, so it’s safe to say that I’ve seen this more times than any other movie. The point is, I know this movie like the back of my hand, and in particular, certain musical cues elicit a Pavlovian response from me at this point. And by certain, I mean pretty much all the significant ones, and seeing this for the first time in a theatre, with the John Williams score booming through the sound system, I had chills going down my spine for practically the entire runtime. Okay, maybe the air conditioner played a part too.

This is being re-released into select theatres for its thirtieth anniversary in a 3D version that I believe was actually made a decade ago for its twentieth anniversary. The 3D has obvious benefits for the many scenes of spectacle (all of which are iconic), in particular because Spielberg’s blocking and shot compositions here stress the sense of depth and perspective. (For an obvious example, go to the first T-Rex attack and note how often we look over a character’s shoulder or through a window or have anything in the foreground for scale.) But the visual strategy is so consistent throughout the movie that it bears unexpected benefits in the dialogue scenes. Take the scene where Hammond is talking to the scientists and Ian Malcolm is dropping some cold, hard truths about the folly of man in bending nature to his will. It seems a little more profound with the extra dimension. (On a side note, I guess I took it for granted just how quotable this movie is. “When you gotta go, you gotta go.” “Hold on to your butts.” Etc, etc. The only bad bit of dialogue was Ellie Sattler’s speech about taking power for granted, which shouldn’t have passed the first draft.) Also take the scene where the characters interrupt their tour to go see the triceratops. The big pile of shit is even bigger in 3D. Thankfully the movie wasn’t released in smell-o-vision.

Like a lot of people, I went through a Michael Crichton phase in my teens, and I remember the source novel being one of his better books. But while Crichton is skilled at crafting technobabble-infused page-turners, Spielberg solutions pretty effectively for his shortcomings at character development. Most notably, Ian Malcolm in the book is a know-it-all who has the right opinion 100% of the time and also happens to agree with Crichton on every key issue. This probably holds true with the movie as well, but by casting Jeff Goldblum, the character is allowed to be twitchy, off-putting and alive in ways he isn’t in the novel. (As Hammond remarks, "I really hate that man." He's also allowed to be sexy, as anyone who remembers the scene in the emergency bunker where he has his shirt open can attest.) The same goes for the rest of the characters, who are played by a murderer’s row of character actors. I could just rattle off the entire cast list, but a few choices Spielberg makes I found particularly astute include making Alan Grant initially annoyed by children so that he gets something of an arc, combining the treacherous Ed Regis and the lawyer Donald Gennaro into just the latter and allowing Martin Ferrero to put his comedic talents to use. I also understand that Wayne Knight was cast after Spielberg saw him in Basic Instinct, where he used some of the same tics of nervous muttering, profuse sweating and looking down through his classes in a particular way that he repurposes here with more sinister intent. He also has some of that disgruntled quality from his role in Seinfeld. This is probably the best casting choice in the movie. (On a side note, the further I get in my career, the more relatable Dennis Nedry becomes, and the more common skimping on IT spend seems to be a problem. “Don't get cheap on me, Dodgson. That was Hammond's mistake.”)

The most drastic change in characterization is probably turning Hammond from a POS to a kindly old man. Crichton plays him too obviously as a villain, and certain Richard Attenborough could have pulled that off, but I think Spielberg turning him into a more sympathetic figure complicates the material interestingly. I think as something of a mogul himself, Spielberg identifies readily with Hammond’s motivations, and is willing to seek the beauty in these possibilities and present us with images that might take our breath away. (Exhibit A: The first shot of the brontosauruses, built up with reaction shots, then making great use of the height of the frame and the silhouettes of the actors in the foreground before giving us a complete view.) He wants the park to succeed, even if in the back of his head he knows it will fail. To paraphrase a quote about Samuel Fuller, when it comes to dinosaur parks, only the point of view of someone who has been tempted is of any interest. (Compare this to Jurassic World, where the dinosaurs are readily dismissed with ironic distance, and you’ll see what the difference in worldview offers in basic spectacle.) Spielberg is also technophilic when it comes to capturing computer displays, indicator lights and the like, all captured lovingly while being milked for tension.

Obviously, seeing this in a theatre helped me to really soak in the set pieces, but as I’ve seen this movie like a hundred times (and quite possible more), this time around I really took note of the timing. There’s the scene where Nedry steals the embryos, which feels like something out of Mission: Impossible. (I know these guys all watch each other’s movies, and I wonder if De Palma pulled a little bit from this scene.) And a particularly strong sequence juggles Muldoon hunting the raptors with Sattler trying to turn the power back on with Hammond and Malcolm’s guidance and Grant and the kids trying to get over the giant fence. It would be one thing if it was played all relentlessly, but I love the way the movie lets you grasp the relationships between the different lines of action entirely visually (the camera panning down the switches a little faster than Sattler flips them) and occasionally lulls you into a false sense of security (Grant having a goof with the kids before they begin their climb). Just a masterclass in editing. This Spielberg guy is a pretty good director, huh?

I’ve seen this movie countless times but this was my first time seeing it in a theatre, and guess what? It’s still great.

#film #movie review #jurassic park #steven spielberg #🦖#dino droppings? droppings?#if pirates of the caribbean breaks down #the pirates don't eat the tourists #we can discuss sexism in survival situations when i get back #nedry was right #nedry died for our sins #congratulations you've reached the end of the tags #see here i'm now sitting by myself talking to myself #that's chaos theory

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blowflyfag · 2 years ago

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Pro Wrestling Illustrated: November 1996

WHY IS THIS MAN SMILING? “BECAUSE I'M GETTING PAID TO MUTILATE!”

Carving up opponents is all part of an average day’s work for Yoshi Kwan, who doesn’t care if he never wins a major title, as long as he gets to injure opponents and watch them suffer.

By Dave Rosenbaum

Photos by Steve Bryant

[Yoshi Kwan is smiling, but Gypsy Joe isn’t having a good time. That’s because Kwan is digging his sword into Joe’s forehead and reveling in the fact that blood is oozing out of Joe’s forehead.]

Yoshi Kwan’s dream job is your nightmare. If you’ve ever watched one of his matches and woken up nights later in a cold sweat, trying to pluck imaginary pieces of barbed wire out of your skin, then Kwan has done his job. If you fear sitting at ringside when blood comes streaming out of a man’s forehead, then stay far away from Kwan’s matches.

He almost certainly will never win a world championship.

He might never become a major star in a major federation.

But Yoshi Kwan is happy, content. Having a great job and smiling broadly. And wh?

“Because I’m getting paid to mutilate!” Kwaqn said through an interpreter as he picked dried blood out of his fingernails. “I don’t think there’s a better job in the world then being able to dig a strand of barbed wire into a man’s flesh and get away with it!”

Promoters around the world should pay attention to this man. Kwan is exactly the kind of wrestler the people who run the sport don’t like: a man who doesn’t care about titles or victories, only about physically destroying his opponents. He isn’t in it for the competition–he’s in it for the blood.

“Yoshi Kwan is a madman who should be locked up in an institution somewhere,” said Larry Valentine, one of Kwan’s victims in Tennessee All-State Wrestling. “Something oughta be done about him before anybody else gets hurt.”

Valentine was already hurt badly when Kwan wrapped sharp, rusty barbed wire around his head, then yanked on it. Blood poured down Valentine’s face, and a doctor later had to administer four tetanus shots.

“The first concern under these circumstances is the victim developing lockjaw,” said Dr. Matthew Checca, an attending physician at one All-State card. “Clearly, the barbed wire was extremely rusty, and the victim was at tremendous risk. Nobody asked for my opinion, but I think Mr. Kwan is a very dangerous man.” Kwan was told of Dr. Checca’s comments. “Thank you very much,” was his snide reply.

Kwan, whose considerable martial arts skills could make him a title contender in any major federation, apparently chooses to wrestle in smaller federations against lesser competition so he can victimize easier prey. He spent a brief time in WCW in 1993, but he has mostly wrestled in All-State wrestling, the USWA, and Japan since. The money he makes in All-State and the USWA is a fraction of what he could make in the WWF or WCW, but Kwan doesn’t seem to care. Insiders say he isn’t financially comfortable, but simply mentally deranged and proud of it.

[More violence, more smiles from Kwan. This time, the victim is Larry Valentine. Kwan can torture him by digging his sharp fingernails into his eyes (above), or by wrapping strands of barbed wire around his head (right).]

“Some of the things he’s done would get a man arrested if he tried it on the streets,” said Cory Williams, a veteran of All-State and the USWA. “The scary thing is, there’s no telling what he’ll do next. I’d hate to get this guy engaged in a falls-count-anywhere match. Who knows what weapons he’d come up with then.”

Kwan already has used a sword to tear into the forehead of Gypsy Joe and other opponents. The sword–which Kwan happily reports he doesn’t disinfect between uses–is old but sharp.

“I am very proud of this sword,” Kwan said. “It was handed down to me by my grandfather. He told me to use it well. I have.”

Unless he was a barbarian. Grandpa Kwan would be horrified by Yoshi’s psychotic actions.

[Sometimes Kwan can’t take the time to smile, because he must concentrate on the work at hand. It’s especially important for him to focus when he’s using that sword to do a little carving.]

“When I saw the sword, I couldn’t believe he was going to use it on me,” veteran Gypsy Joe said. “Something like that is just uncalled for. I mean, there have to be lines of decency. A man can’t risk his life every time steps into the ring against Kwan, but that’s what he’s doing. I think we’re going to reach a point where everybody will refuse to wrestle him.”

Larry Valentine might be the first. He remembers the feeling when Kwan pressed into his shoulders with a nerve hold.

“His fingernails were sharp, and the pressure was unbearable,” Valentine recalled. “This referee told him to break the hold, but Kwan d=refused, which didn’t surprise me. Personally, I don’t think he can function in a normal society. He’s just having a great old time, mutilating anybody who’s in his path.” Kwan, who often comes to the ring in white face and kabuki robe, learned some of his antics from Harley Race, who also managed Big Van Vader during his reign of terror over WCW. According to Race, however, Kwan is actually more sadistic than Vader.

[Hundreds of wrestlers use nerveholds today, but Valentine said he has never felt one quite like Yoshi Kwan’s. “Unbearable” is the word used to describe the pain he felt.]

“Vader has more skills than Kwan, no question about it,” TRace said. “But what’s Kwan’s limit? He doesn’t have any. He’ll do anything to hurt someone, even if he suffers a serious injury himself while doing it. He’s the kind of wrestler you love to manage.”

That might be the case, but Kwan is certainly not the kind of wrestler you want to face in the ring. Valentine and others know that any match against Kwan could be their last. And for Kwan, the fun never ends,

“Soon I might hurt somebody so bad,” he vowed, “that he will be afraid to ever wrestle again. That would be even more fun.”

#tw blood #yoshi kwan #all state wrestling #magazine transcript #magazine scan #pwi #pro wrestling illustrated #PWI 1990s #1996 #1990s

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nursingwriter · 3 months ago

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Grave's disease is an autoimmune condition which impacts the human thyroid gland. Excessive production of the thyroid hormone engorges the gland and it continues to grow. Because of this, there can be many adverse affects to the person's health, particularly in terms of ophthalmological and dermatological symptoms. The exact cause of the condition has not been determined nor has a cure for the disease. However, there are treatment methods available which can alleviate symptoms and even prevent further hyperthyroidism in the patients. Overview and Brief History of the Condition: Grave's disease is an autoimmune disorder which most commonly affects the thyroid gland and results in hyperthyroidism, or over activity of the gland. Patients with this disease experience various symptoms but have a shared epidemiology. This condition creates antibodies which impact receptor activation within the thymus. Causes: The specific cause of Grave's disease is as yet unknown; however there are theories as to what might be the potential reasons why people develop this disease. There is a strong hereditary link associated with Grave's disease. Certain genetic markers have been shown to indicate whether someone develops the condition, including TSH receptors which activate the antibodies. HLA (human leukocyte antigen) DR also plays an important role in Grave's disease acquisition (Tomer 1993,-page 111). Grave's disease occurs in females far more often than in males at a rate of approximately 5:1 or even 10:1 according to differing statistics. Approximately 2% of the female population will be affected by the condition at some point in their lives with the majority of patients being diagnosed later in life. Due to the fact that it often appears later in life, some researchers have suggested that the condition may be caused by an infection of some kind which then impacts the antibodies which react with Thyroid Stimulating Hormone (TSH) receptors. TSH, also known as thyrotopin, is released by the pituitary gland when the brain registers high levels of thyroid hormone in the bloodstream, which is in turn caused by hyperthyroidism. When a thyroid stimulating hormone becomes attached to a TSH receptor on a gland, the gland will continue to grow and will in turn produce even more of the hormone. If the TSI keeps stimulating the gland and the gland continues to produce the hormone despite normal levels already being reached, then the patient is diagnosed with Grave's disease. Signs and Symptoms: In addition, patients will show signs of hyperthyroid symptoms, such as increased speed of the heartbeat, muscle weaknesses, disturbed sleep, and increased irritability. Grave's diseases can cause difficulty for the heart, and problems with the circulatory or nervous systems. Due to the hypothyroidism of the condition, patients will also show such symptoms as: insomnia, hand tremors and other shaking, hair loss, hyperactivity, excessive sweating, itching, and intolerance to both heat and cold (Agabegi 2008,-page 157). Patients may also exhibit dietary and digestive issues including increased appetite with unexplainable weight loss, as well as diarrhea or frequent bowel movements. There are psychological and emotional issues which are common with patients who have Grave's disease. Personality difficulties and quick changes in emotion are some of the negative mental aspects of the condition. Hyperthyroidism can result in depression, psychosis, anxiety, agitation, and even manic behaviors (Bunevicius 2006,-page 898). Pathophysiology: Grave's disease is an autoimmune condition. The body produces antibodies and they negatively impact the TSH receptor. They might also produce antibodies impacting thyroglobulin or specific thyroid hormones. The antibodies which are made create hyperthyroidism because the TSH receptor becomes bound to them. TSH receptors may be affected by types of antibodies (Abs) which are classified as stimulating, blocking, or neutral (Morshed 2010,-page 5537). There are three types of autoantibodies which react with the TSH reactor, including thyroid stimulating immunoglobulins (TSI), thyroid growth immunoglobulins (TGI), and thyrotrophin binding-inhibiting immunoglobulins (TBII) (Bunevicius 2006,-page 900). TSI creates an elevated production of the thyroid hormone. TSI bond directly to the TSH reactor and have been shown to grow the thyroid follicles. Finally TBII prevents TSH and its receptor from functioning properly. Hyperthyroidism then causes the thyroid gland to enlarge which begins the course of other negative issues associated with the condition. It has been suggested by some researchers that the bulging of the eye associated with Grave's disease, also known as exophthalmos, might be caused by a shared antigen between the antibodies and the muscles surrounding the eye. If the antigen is related, then they muscles and antibodies bond which would, in turn, cause swelling of the eyeball and the telltale protrusion. Recent research into antibodies and how they impact or impede the function of TSH receptors was performed by Latif et. al who discovered that each of the pertinent antibodies related to TSH had a unique epitope pattern (2012). Such epitopes were distinct however they had similar characteristics in that they contacted the "hinge region and the amino terminus of the TSHR following the signal peptide and encompassing cysteine box 1 which has previously shown to be important for TSH binding and activation" (Latif 2012). The distinctiveness of the various epitopes indicated their potential to impact the TSH and ultimately directly affected the propensity to be diagnosed with Grave's disease. Research in Grave's diseases has indicated beyond reasonable doubt that the condition has a direct correlation to antibodies and the TSH receptor. It is possible that soon research will be able to indicate exactly what alleviates and exacerbates symptomology, such as that conducted by Morshed et. al (2010) which shows oxidative stress markers may be the key to fully understanding the pathology of the disease (page 5537). Scientists have been able to prove that those who have been diagnosed with Grave's disease are likely to experience bone loss because of osteoporosis. Any hyperthyroid condition can result in such bone loss. It is believed that more calcium and phosphorus is lost via the body's waste removal systems than should be and therefore the body is not receiving as much of these chemicals as is necessary for the body to perform correctly (Mathur 2006). If left untreated, thyrotoxicosis can set in which changes the levels of calcium in the body to perhaps even ae of its proper levels. The result can be even worse dietary and digestive problems, with increased urination and defecation and the potential of damage done to the kidneys and other components of the waste removal organs of the body. Manifestations: When Grave's disease is suspected, the thyroid will be enlarged, sometimes to twice its normal size, called a goiter. The thyroid will most often become overactive which can create other health problems. The most common manifestation of Grave's disease will by hyperthyroidism with diffuse goiter ophthalmology and dermopathy. Ophthalmologically, patients may show signs of "lid lag" which is an inability to control the movement of the eye lid and makes the eyes appear droopy or tired. They might also have excessive tear production called lacrimation (Agabegi 2008,-page 157). One of the most obvious indications of Grave's disease is a bulging of the eyes, known as exophthalmos. When exophthalmos occurs, the eyes appear to bulge out of their sockets abnormally so that a large amount of the eyeball is exposed. The extraocular muscles and orbital fat are affected by the thyroid's inflammation. Other ocular manifestations of Grave's disease can include: soft tissue damage, enlargement of one or both of the eyes which makes them protrude out of the socket which a symptom is called proptosis, exposure of the corneas, and compression of the optic nerves (Khoo 2007,-page 1014). There are six classifications of Grave's disease related optical disease and they are as follows: Class 0 which is no symptom of eye disease, Class 1 where signs are limited to lid retraction or staring, Class 2 which damages the soft tissues, Class 3 where proptosis occurs, Class 4 which involved extraocular muscles, Class 5 where the cornea is damaged, and finally Class 6 which results in loss of vision altogether (Cawood 2004,-page 385). The dermatological manifestation of Grave's disease includes irritation of the skin which is called pretibial myxedema which is caused by the autoimmune component of the condition. When a person has Grave's disease, then they might have a skin irritation which is associated with it. Usually, the skin takes on a reddish or orange tint and a rough texture, providing the symptom with the nickname "orange peel" skin. Lumps or lesions are also visible on the skin, usually on the limbs and torso. In a study conducted by Schwartz and colleagues (2002), it was found that the majority of patients who developed thyroid dermopathy would most often experience skin irritation in pretibial areas (page 438). They also found that those who had dermopathy would almost always also be affected by ophthalmopathy at a staggering 97% of those involved in the study. Possible Treatments: Although there is no outright cure for Grave's disease at present, there are proven techniques which treat the disease and make it manageable for the patient. Catching it early on and treating it as soon as possible also ensure that the more damaging effects of the condition, such as the eye protrusion and the osteoporosis do not take place in many of the patients who have the disease. Only a very small percentage of people will have to deal with the direst aspects of Grave's disease. Those who have Grave's disease are often prescribed antithyroid medications which slow down the function of the thyroid. Methimazole is the most common of these medications, but propylthiouracil is also prescribed (Homsanit 2001,-page 385). Antithyroid medicines prevent iodine from bonding and prevent iodotyrosines from combining as well. Research has shown that there markers to look for when trying to determine the likelihood of reoccurrence of hyperthyroidism. If a positive THSR-ab antibody is discovered, then the person should not stop taking the medication lest they have to deal with hyperthyroidism again in 90% of cases (Glinoer 2001,-page 480). Unlike other medicines which can have fast-acting effects, antithyroid medications may take between six months and two years to show results in the patient who takes them. The medicines should be taken for the rest of the patient's life in most cases because they hyperthyroidism can recur in as much as 78% of cases even without a positive THSR-ab. Radioiodine is another method that is used to treat Grave's disease. This was one of the first methods created for the treatment of this condition and today is mostly used on elderly patients with Grave's disease where the treatments slowly destroy the thyroid gland (Homsanit 2001,-page 387). Because of the potential to become hypothyroid, radioiodine tends only to be used when medicinal treatment does not work. Some 80% of people who use radioiodine will become develop hypothyroidism. In addition, patients who are pregnant or who already have evidence of ophthalmopathy are not allowed to use this method as it can endanger the fetus or worsen the eye disease. One of the negative affects which is purportedly related to radioiodine treatment is the possible development of TRAbs. Patients diagnosed with Grave's who then use radioiodine have been shown in 75% of cases to develop TRAbs (Wallaschofski 2002,-page 36). Since these patients did not have these antibodies in their systems before the radioiodine treatments, researchers have suggested the potential link between the treatment and the development of these antibodies as well as a subsequent reoccurrence of their hyperthyroidism. Finally, some patients will require surgery in order to treat their Grave's disease. Very young patients or patients who are pregnant are often considered suitable for surgery. Other indications that surgery is an appropriate action include if the goiter is particularly large, if it is suspected that the thyroid is cancerous, or if the patient shows signs of ophthalmopathy. The biggest advantage to surgery is that the problem is immediately solved, as opposed to the other two methods which are far slower. Works Cited Agabegi, E. & Agabegi, S. (2008). Step-Up to Medicine (Step-Up Series). Lippincott Williams & Wilkins: Hagerstown, MD. 157. Bunevicius, R. & Prange, AJ. (2006). Psychiatric manifestations of Graves' hyperthyroidism: pathophysiology and treatment options. CNS Drugs. (20:11). 897-909. Cawood, T., Moriarty, P., & O'Shea, D. (2004). Recent developments in thyroid eye disease. BMJ. (329: 7462). 385-90. https://www.paperdue.com/customer/paper/grave-disease-102414#:~:text=Logout-,GravesDisease,-Length6pages Glinoer, D., de Nayer, P., & Bex, M. (2001). Effects of I-thyroxine administration, TSH-receptor antibodies and smoking on the risk of reoccurrence in Graves' hyperthyroidism treated with antithyroid drugs: a double-blind perspective randomized study. European Journal of Endocrinology. (144:5). 475-83. Homsanit, M., Sriussadaporn, S., Vannasaeng, S., Peerapatdit, T., Nitiyanant, W., & Vichayanrat, A. (2001). Efficacy of single daily dosage of methimazole vs. propylthiouracil in the induction of euthyroidism. Clinical Endocrinol. (54:3). 385-90. Khoo, T.K. & Bahn, R.S. (2007). Pathogenisis of Graves' ophthalmology: the role of autoantibodies. Thyroid. (17:10). 1013-18. Latif, R., Teixeira, A., Michaelek, K., Ali, M., Schlesinger, M., Baliram, R., Morshed, S., & Davies, T. (2012). Antibody protection reveals extended epitopes on the human TSH receptor. PLoS One. (7:9). Mathur, R. (2006). Thyroid disease, osteoporosis, and calcium. Medicine Net. Morshed, S., Ando, T., Latif, R., & Davies, T. (2010). Neutral antibodies to the TSH receptor are present in Graves' disease and regulate selective signaling cascades. Endocrinology. (15:11). 5537-49. Schwartz, K., Fatourechi, V., Ahmed, D., & Pond, G. (2002). Dermopathy of Grave' disease (pretibial myxedema): long-term outcome. The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology and Metabolism. (87:2). 438. Tomer, Y. & Davies, T. (1993). Infection, thyroid disease, and autoimmunity. Endocrine Reviews. (14:1). 107-20. Wallaschofski, H., Muller, D, Georgi, P., & Paschke, R. (2002). Induction of TSH-receptor antibodies in patients with toxic multinodular goiter by radioiodine treatment. Horm. Metab. Res. (34:1). 36-9. Read the full article

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harrison-abbott · 2 years ago

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BOBBY BALLARD (1993)

I was called out to this suburb. A cocaine dealer’s house had been located and a team had burst into his house. All his lights were on and his car was still outside, but somehow he’d managed to escape. His name was Bobby Ballard, 30. The police were fairly sure he was the main man in quite a serious cocaine loop around the city. But they hadn’t been able to find any evidence in his house after the search.

When I drove in I was surprised at how secluded the suburb was. It was obscure, somehow separated from the city. Quiet, with lots of parks and woods around it. Nor was it particularly wealthy: Ballard’s abode was one of a line of attached houses. Small normal and old.

I went into his house and made a brief scan around. It was obvious he was wealthy enough to afford the items I found in his sitting room – the plush tv etc and just by looking in his fridge and of course with the snazzy car outside. I’d noticed when I went in that there were three stories to the line of houses. Upstairs was a dull bedroom where I didn’t sense anything. In the basement there was a treadmill, some dumbbells and a poster of Muhammed Ali but that was about it.

Hmm. When cases like this occur it’s a good idea to question the neighbours, just in case any little morsel or sign can pop up. So I went to Bobby’s next door neighbours (both of them). They were both women and I asked them the standard questions; if they knew Bobby well, if they were friends with him, if they knew where he might have gone.

I asked directly and factually and what I noticed in each of them was that they were acutely nervous. Their voices were light and queer. And they denied knowing Bobby at all: they barely seemed to know anything about him, only that he was somebody who kept to himself. Never saw much of him.

The next house down I met a man who was even more twitchy. He barely even looked at me and his hand trembled on the tea cup. This man was poignantly bald and the sweat shone across his dome. I felt bad for him because he was so afraid – and I said a few times that he himself wasn’t in trouble, I was just a detective scouting for information. He didn’t ease up the entire interview.

None of the other neighbours answered their doors.

There was a chance that they knew about Bobby being a crook and they were afraid of him and didn’t want to snitch. But I suspected some other reason. So I went back to Bobby’s house and looked over it again, feeling I’d missed some clue. The television in the living room was actually still switched on … From the window view there was a garden, and beyond its fence the woods: there was a chance he might have dashed into the forest. Maybe.

What about the basement again. Before it had seemed a little cliché – to just have a little gym down there and that was it.

Indeed, there was a cold damp smell in the room which bespoke of misuse. It was a fairly large room. There was a little shelf in the corner with empty beer bottles and an ash tray, which also didn’t emphasise that Bobby was much of a fitness man. I crossed to the treadmill. I’d never used a treadmill on my life – never saw the point in them. It was stationed in the other corner of the room, about a yard from the wall.

And when I looked down at that yard-space between the wall and treadmill I noticed that the floorboard wood was coloured differently. Not by much but I could just see it was off-key. So I went closer.

The floorboards were definitely different. In fact, there was a square of wood where the boards where a lighter shade of brown, and at the end of it there was a small hole leading below. Was it a trapdoor?

I put my finger into the hole and lifted it up. Wow, it was indeed a door leading underground: all I could see before me was blackness alongside an even more chilling scent. I took my torch out and shone into the gap.

Dusty swirls through the torchlight. The space was small but big enough for a man’s body to fit through and maybe a metre deep. I ducked my head down and shone further into the shaft – and a tunnel illuminated. It was obviously man-made, with wood-propped up along its outlines like you see in old army films.

I climbed into the hole and I fit into it quite snugly. Then I crawled along the tunnel keeping the torch aligned ahead. The sound changed as I ventured and I bypassed a brief spasm of claustrophobia and panic that there might not be enough oxygen in this tunnel. Also, I had been grovelling for quite some time and didn’t know how far I was underground. But then I saw a shard of light in the ceiling ahead of me, and I turned off my torch and dribbled up to it.

It was a new trapdoor. I could see by its shape and structure that it was just like the previous one and I began to realise what was happening. There were voices coming from above. They sounded irate and agitated.

I took out my pistol. From what I could see this trapdoor had no lock on it.

I stationed myself on my toes, held the gun in two hands, then propelled up on the door. And it flung open and I was suddenly in a new basement with two men staring at me having just gone silent.

One of them was the sweaty bald man I’d interviewed earlier. The other man was Bobby Ballard. He was sitting on a couch and the bald man was standing over him holding a mug of tea. There was a moment of bleak silence and then the bald man dropped the mug and the clay went sparking over the floor.

I stood up out of the trapdoor and I told both of them to get on the floor, that they were both arrested. They were both cooperative and it went smoothly. Bobby Ballard didn’t seem like much of a character: he just accepted defeat.

So, do you see what happened?

The chain of attached houses were all part of Bobby Ballard’s cocaine team or crew or whatever. They’d built the tunnel under their housing to smuggle the product and money as they saw fit and to keep it safe. There were trapdoors under the basements of each house. It was clever and well organised. And when we looked at all the neighbours’ records, it turned out they’d been neighbours for twenty years more or less.

Those women who I interviewed first – they were in on it too. And when we re-engaged with them we found the cocaine bags in their houses. An efficient community indeed.

That was a strange day. If I hadn’t found that initial trapdoor I don’t think we would have ever unravelled that ring. Many spooky things happen in the suburbs.

THE END

#writeblr #creative writing #short fiction #stories #detective l walter #speculative fiction #crime fiction #noir

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fragilecapric0rnn · 2 years ago

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FRIENDS AU Part 2: The One Where Eddie Copes

[part one]

[cross-posted to ao3] || word count: 3.3k

Eddie doesn’t know how long it takes for his soul to return to his body.

It left as soon as his eyes and brain fully registered that he was suddenly in the presence of his high school crush. Right here, in the flesh, sitting in the middle of his friends in The Jittery. He can’t help but consider the fact that he may have been the one to summon him with his pathetic cry for his ex-girlfriend just moments before the incident.

The casual, ‘You remember Eddie? From high school?’ comment from Robin sucker-punched Eddie right in the chest. The eye contact and shy smile that followed nearly sent Eddie into some sort of stress-induced cardiac arrest.

He hardly registers the barely coherent story that Steve is trying to tell. Eddie watches him bring a glass of water to his mouth with shaky hands and tries not to stare at his lips.

“I’m confused.” Jonathan says as Eddie starts to regain consciousness.

Memories of his repressed gay awakening circa-1985 come flooding back with a vengeance. Sitting in the bleachers during gym class, watching this same guy flick off his t-shirt, dripping in sweat, shit-talking his opponents, shoving them around a little too rough for a gym class game of basketball.

He adjusts how he’s sitting in the chair, right now, in 1993. Beating away the thoughts from the Ghost of Horny Moments Past, pushing away the potential for any unexplainable chubs as he tries to sit and listen to the man himself ramble about God-knows-what, soaking wet like a pathetic little kitten in the coffee shop.

He’s going to throw up.

Or pass out.

Possibly both.

Thankfully, everyone’s attention is on the runaway bride, too distracted to notice that he’s in crisis.

“It makes perfect sense to me.” Argyle shrugs, handing Steve a giant ceramic cup.

“Just run it by us one more time.”

Steve takes a comically large sip from his mug, holds the coffee in his cheeks, making them puff out and Eddie is convinced that this is some sort of punishment for all of his mistakes.

“You know, they always told me that cold feet are normal. That’s what they all say about getting married, that you get cold feet. Well, I realized when I woke up this morning, after having a very vivid and intense dream about Harrison Ford, that maybe my feet were never really that warm to begin with, ya know?”

Everyone is nodding, as if they do know. Nancy has her eyebrows knitted together, Robin looks a bit too amused, Jonathan looks confused, and Argyle is casually dipping his tea bag into his mug, like this is a normal thing unfolding in front of them.

“Look, I was in a frat in college. I am very comfortable with my sexuality or whatever and I didn’t let the dream sway any decision making at that moment.”

Eddie resists the urge to ask him what exactly this sexuality is.

“So it wasn’t Harrison…” Nancy presses, her hand motioning as if to say, 'Please continue this batshit story.'

“It wasn’t him,” He takes a sip from his mug, the rest of the group inches closer. “It happened about 10 minutes later, when Lola was knocking on my door, standing there in tears.”

“Fuck,” Robin drags out the word, Jonathan lets out a low whistle.

“Turns out, she also had lukewarm feet throughout most of our relationship. She wanted to call it off. And that’s when I knew we had to. Because any normal fiance would’ve freaked the fuck out, right? Would’ve started begging or pleading or yelling or something! But I had nothing. Nothing but relief.”

The collective air in the room deflates.

“So, we devised a plan. We’d both get ready, business as usual. And I’d be the one to sneak out of the bathroom window in the groom’s suite. Before we realized it was on the second story of the hotel.”

He shrugs, as Eddie studies his attire a little closer, seeing he does have twigs and a smattering of leaves on his now-discarded jacket.

“Steve, I know you’re vulnerable and whatever,” Robin says, pausing when Nancy smacks her arm. “But, why here? Why us?” Motioning between her and Nancy.

He chuckles, eyes now looking down into his cup. Eddie can't help but stare at this very odd man sitting in front of him.

“I don’t know. I guess it was mostly because I knew you lived in the city. But there’s another part of me that knew you’d understand. You were one of the only people I’ve ever met that tried understanding me for me. Not what you wanted me to be.”

And that's, wow. Why on Earth would he say something like that? Now Eddie has to cope with the fact that not only is this dude still hot, he sounds sweet as hell.

“C’mon, let’s get you up to the apartment.”

He can’t cope.

“Mom, you’re gonna need to stop crying or hand the phone back to dad.” Steve pleads. He's been on the phone for about an hour at this point, everyone else scattered around Nancy's apartment, listening.

Eddie, most of the shock worn off by now, is sitting at Nancy’s kitchen table, eating a pie straight from the tin and unable to tear his eyes away from the train wreck that is Steve Harrington, still in his damp clothes, but stripped down to an undershirt and the tux pants and no shoes or socks.

Watches him keep tugging hard at his hair every time a muffled yell comes out of the phone, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

No wonder this guy ran away.

Robin sits backwards on the chair next to Eddie’s as Steve stumbles out of the window onto the terrace, where the rain has somewhat let up.

“Do you think he’s gay?” He asks as soon as Steve is fully outside.

“Definitely not straight." Robin plucks the fork from Eddie's hand.

Jonathan shrugs, sighing as he finally sets the change of clothes down on the table and takes a seat.. He has been holding a change of clothes from his apartment in his hands for at least a half hour, waiting for Steve to get off the phone with his parents.

"I mean, who talks about Harrison Ford in the same breaths as explaining why you ran away from your wedding?” He says, stealing the fork from Robin.

“I never think about Harrison Ford unless I’m watching him on tv. And even then I barely think about him.”

“Does that answer your question?”

Before Eddie can say, not really, his thoughts are interrupted by a commotion coming from the other side of the room where the bedroom doors are closed.

Nancy comes out of the spare room, curly hair frizzier than it had been on the way up the stairs from the coffee shop, rubbing her temples and pulling on her face as she joins the group in the living room.

“Are they still arguing?” She asks, craning her neck to get a better look at him out on the terrace. He’s still gesturing wildly, doing a lot more yelling.

“I think so?” Robin turns her head like a confused dog, watching him gesture wildly with his free hand.

“One minute he’s telling his dad that he doesn’t want to live like him and then it sounds like his mom is crying, I think he talked to his old nanny at one point?”

“His parents sound like a mess.” Eddie says, earning three different versions of a 'no-duh' look from his friends.

“Have you seen the apple? What kinda tree do you think it fell from?” Jonathan says, passing the fork back to Eddie, which is then snatched away by Nancy. She takes the pie tin from them, putting it back in the fridge.

They can hear the window opening and Steve falling back inside, silent cursing to himself.

“No dad, you listen!” All their heads snap in the direction of Steve. Once again, soaking wet. His face is red, his already big hair standing up in every direction, and an insane look on his eyes.

Are his pupils dilated?

“Fine! I don’t care, I don’t care anymore! Cut me off! I don’t care! You know what,” Steve struggles to get his wallet out of his pocket, pauses and just throws the wallet across the room. Muffled yelling comes from the phone. “I'm snapping my credit cards right fucking now!"

"I’ll stay here, with Nancy and Robin and you can take that inheritance and shove it up your ass!” Steve hangs up the phone and throws it onto the loveseat next to him.

No one moves. No one speaks. The air is still, but only for a moment.

“I think this is where the sitcom audience would clap.” Eddie forgot Argyle has been laying down on the couch this entire time. Steve’s red face suddenly looks sickly pale.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

Jonathan and Nancy hop up from their spots, Robin hands him a brown paper bag, and they guide him to the couch. Eddie watches this all unfold, lingering in the background. Not one for comfort, especially being the king of mommy and daddy issues, without the complicated mess of being a trust fund baby, he has nothing helpful to add.

“It’s gonna be okay, just try taking deep breaths.”

Steve nods, the paper bag inflating and deflating slower, but still rather fast.

“Would it help if I sang a song?”

The bag inflates and deflates even slower, everyone just sort of stares at Argyle.

“Don’t worry, about a thing, because every little thing, is gonna be alright.” Steve slowly brings the paper bag down, rests his hand on Argyle’s forearm.

“I think I’m okay now, thank you.” He visibly winces at the lackluster Bob Marley

“Don’t mention it, mon.”

For some godforsaken reason, Steve looks right at Eddie as they make the same face, an eyebrow hiked up to their hairlines, the physical embodiment of a scoff without actually scoffing. All while making eye contact with each other.

Eddie looks away quickly, jumping out of the chair so fast that it scrapes against the floor, startling everyone in the room.

“What am I gonna do?” He sounds panicked.

“We’re gonna help you figure it out,” Jonathan says, sat on the coffee table across from him.

“You can stay here with me, Jonathan and Robin live across the hall, it’ll be fun.” Nancy is patting his arm.

“But what about money? I have none of that!”

“There are these things called jobs,” Eddie says, Nancy snaps her head around and damn-near snarls at him. Steve’s brown paper bag is back to inflating and deflating.

The phone rings, saving Eddie from immediate doom via-Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy looks at the time and is now the one to get up from her seat next to Steve like something bit her on the ass.

“Shit! Shit shit shit!”

“What's with all the shit, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, Nancy flipping him off as the phone continues to ring in her hand.

“I forgot to call Frank and cancel.”

“Who’s Frank?”

“My date,” she says, immediately sending Eddie a scrunched up face and mouthing sorry.

“Wait wait wait, Frank? As in, Frank the Creepy Paper Salesman?” Robin hops over the backside of the couch, falling into Nancy. The phone stops ringing. Nancy takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and looking up at the ceiling.

Creepy was a generous assessment of the piece of work that is Frank. Asking Nancy on dates ever since she started working at The Times, stopping by the office ad nauseam, so much so, he has become a regular fixture in the lore surrounding Nancy's office.

“Yes, that Frank.”

“Is the dating well running that dry Nance? So dry you finally said yes to Frank the creepy paper salesman?”

“Listen, he caught me in a momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Were you conscious during this lapse?”

"Fully, I just. It's been a while since I'd been on a date and my mom would not stop pestering me about it on the phone literal minutes, seconds even, before Frank showed up to talk to my boss. So, when he did his usual creep routine of asking me out, I said yes."

“Was he as surprised as we are?” Eddie asks, Nancy nods, wincing.

"And are you regretting the yes?"

"Fully!"

The phone is ringing again.

“Hello,” she answers, sounding like she has a congested nose. “Hi Frank, yeah, I’m not feeling that well. Yeah, maybe we can postpone. I’ll call you, yeah.”

“I’m sorry Nancy, I know this was kinda my fault.” Steve’s voice continues to be muffled by the bag.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d be upset about you going out with Frank the Creep.” Eddie sits back down in the kitchen chair. Is he really that fragile? Can his friends really not share their downfalls with him like they used to?

“I don’t know! You freaked when Robin went on a date with Tam-”

“Aht! Aht!” Robin waves her hands in the air, almost elbowing Steve. “We are not talking about my dating life. I am striking this down immediately!”

“Point still stands, then. You’re still very upset about Michelle.” And the sound of her name feels like a cartoon anvil dropping inside of his stomach, dropping and dropping.

“We are not gonna talk about Michelle right now.” He deadpans.

“Who’s Michelle?” Steve asks, paper bag back in front of his face, inflating and deflating as he speaks. All of the air has been kicked out of Eddie’s lungs.

“Eddie’s ex,” Argyle whispers loudly, with no effort made to keep Eddie from hearing him.

“We are not talking about Michelle right now!” Eddie yells. Everyone goes quiet.

“Right now we are going to focus on getting Steve to stop breathing into a paper fucking bag!”

To which they all look over at Steve, who is staring at everyone with wide eyes and the bag no longer dramatically inflating and deflating, just held to his mouth as he stares around the room.

“I’m actually starting to feel a little better.” He says, into the bag. Inflating and deflating.

Across the hall, Eddie has his feet kicked up on Jonathan and Robin’s couch, hands linked and resting on his stomach. His head in Robin’s lap and his feet on Jonthan’s lap, staring up at the ceiling where he can see a spaghetti stain splattered across the asbestos pattern.

Jeopardy is playing in the background but none of them are paying attention. Argyle is sat on the floor, head close to Eddie’s as they all pass around a joint.

“So, you let her take the TV, the bedroom set, and the living room set. What do you even have left at your place?”

“Pots and pans?”

“Dude,” Argyle blows a ring of smoke in the air. “That is so not cool.” He passes Eddie the joint.

“I felt bad. It’s my fault we’re in this situation.”

“There are no faults, and yet you’re still punishing yourself.” Jonathan says, eyes glued to the TV, a familiar spacey look on his face.

Argyle checks his watch and gets up from the floor, patting around his pockets.

“Looks like it’s time for me to head out, Aunt Miriam is making midnight spaghetti and I wanna get there before her boyfriend eats all the garlic bread.”

“Midnight spaghetti?” and “Your great aunt has a boyfriend?” are asked by Eddie and Robin respectively at the same time.

“See ya man,” Jonathan yells as the door shuts behind him.

Robin knocks on Eddie’s head lightly before pushing him off of her, stretching and yawning as she stands.

“I’m gonna go raid Nance’s for some more beers,” He swings he feet off of Jonathan’s lap and stretches.

“I’ll get your pillow and blankey situated,” Robin says. Eddie half turns to send her a salute before shutting the door, opening the one across the hall almost in one fell swoop.

He doesn’t expect to see Steve still up, sitting at the same kitchen chair he spent most of the afternoon and evening in. Most of the color returned to face, a glass of wine and an open bottle on the table.

“Hey,” He says, curious and careful

“Hi.” Steve smiles warmly at him, gesturing the bottle at him, Eddie takes it as an invitation.

“You alright?” He grabs a wine glass from Nancy’s hanging glass rack.

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”

“Why? A lot on your mind?” Eddie takes the seat across form him.

“You’re funny,” Steve fills Eddie’s glass. “I remember you being kinda funny in high school.” To that, Eddie fakes a dagger to the heart, startling Steve a bit, who is looking at Eddie with the same type of amusement that everyone looked at him with a few hours ago.

“If seventeen-year-old-me heard you say that you remembered me at all from high school, there’d be an Eddie shaped hole in that door.” Eddie takes a swig from his wine, thanking whoever is in charge of the universe that it's red wine, giving him an explanation for the blush already blooming on his face. Well, a better explanation than a cute guy laughing at his silly jokes.

“Of course I remember you, how could I forget all those lunchtime sermons about how cool and different you were and how lame and boring the rest of us were.” Steve says, not hiding how much it he seems to enjoy that the little walk down memory lane has started to make Eddie visibly cringe.

“Don’t remind me of that,” Eddie groans into his glass.

“You seem a lot softer now.”

Eddie drags his eyes up from where they were studying the knick in the the wood on the table, meeting Steve’s gaze.

“You caught me at a soft time in my life, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve leans back in his chair, brings his own glass to his lips, pausing to take a sip. “Your ex.”

“Yep, my ex.”

“Did she just, totally break your heart?” He asks, throwing Eddie off guard a bit. He didn't expect Steve to be so forward with his nosiness. Kinda respects it.

“No, it was more like. I broke my own heart.”

“What does that even mean?”

He looks at Steve. Really looks at him, and can almost see the kindness actually spilling out of those pretty brown eyes, how he came to Robin and Nancy specifically to help him out, knowing that they would.

“It means, I realized that she’s not really my type after all. After eight years together, I finally realized that I am g-” he clears his throat.

“That I’m gay. No matter how much I love her, no amount is going to change the fact that I wasted both of our time.”

Eddie can’t bear to look up at Steve, but feels his eyes on him.

The glug glug sound of wine pouring out of the bottle breaks the silence, Eddie finally looks up.

“You need it more than I do,” Steve says, taking a swig from the bottle, tipping it over the table to show that it’s now empty.

This makes Eddie laugh. A full belly laugh that seems to be contagious, as Steve’s now laughing, a snort escaping his nose and mouth, making the two laugh even harder.

“You guys, seriously?” Nancy comes out of her room, robe on and rollers in her hair. “Some of us have to work in the morning!”

“Sorry Nance, we’ll keep it down.”

“Sorry.”

She looks at them, her face softens with look of mild bewilderment. Stands there for a few seconds longer than she otherwise would’ve, before wordlessly going back into her bedroom.

“That reminds me, I need to get one of those.” Steve says as her door clicks shut.

“One of what?”

“A job, or something.”

“I can put a good word in for you at a few places.” He says, taking a big gulp from the very full wine glass.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

He can’t help but think maybe, just maybe, he will be able to cope with Steve being around.

#friends au #steddie #steddie fic #next updates will have more budding ronance #they deserve their own chapters!#sen writes #my fic #spicy six #spicy six au

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mountain-in-springtime · 2 years ago

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mama you been on my mind

pairing: sam x reader | word count: 965 | warnings: one curse word, one super duper slight implication of nsfw | my masterlist

summary: this one's more about the vibes if i'm being honest, but it's about sam and the reader spending time together at a botanical garden.

author's note: i'm not sure how i feel about this one, but i couldn't get the idea out of my head, so i figured i'd share it with y'all. i feel like the idea could've been a bit more fleshed out, so i might come back and edit this later. we'll just see how it goes. also sorry that this one isn't quite as happy as my other fics/blurbs. also it was inspired by and named after the song "mama you been on my mind", specifically the jeff buckley cover, which i'll link below.

Laughter rang through Sam’s ears as you ran ahead of him, giggling and ushering him to follow you. As he caught up, he saw you pointing to a bush of tiny pink flowers. They smelled like heaven and were probably the prettiest plant in the whole garden. Sam watched you as you stared at them, unable to stop the smile that spread across his features.

You eventually turned to look back at him, asking “What’s got you all smiley?” as a quizzical look overcame your face.

“Nothing,” he replied, giving his head a small shake, “It’s just a really nice day.”

You looked at the sky above you and let a slight grin take hold, “Yeah, it really is. I’ve been hoping for weather like this.”

“Me too,” he agreed, “Just enough sun to not be cold, but enough clouds to not sweat our asses off.”

You let out a small giggle. “Yep. Couldn’t have said it better myself, Sammy.” He smiled in return, and you let a moment of silence fall between you, happy to just be in each other’s company. You looked at the different plants and flowers as you wandered down the garden’s path, occasionally pointing one out to Sam. A butterfly flew by at one point, landing on your head just long enough for him to snap a few pictures.

"How'd they look?" you asked eagerly.

"I think they're gonna come out beautiful," he replied, "Your pictures always do."

A small blush formed across your cheeks. "Thank you, Sammy," you giggled, "You're always so sweet."

He quickly shushed you, placing a finger over his lips. "Don't say that so loud," he said in a joking whisper, "I have a rock star reputation to uphold."

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever you say, Mr. Rockstar. I still think you're sweet"

A small chuckle left his lips, and then the comfortable silence returned as you two strolled along. You went back to looking at the foliage in quiet wonder while Sam could barely keep his eyes off of you. He focused on every excited breath you took and every plant that you seemed to take special note of. He finally broke the silence when your path forked into three directions, asking “So, where to next?”

After a brief moment of consideration, you replied, “That way,” pointing to the rightmost path, “i think we’ve already gone down the other two, and this one should come out by the cafe.”

“Oh, thank god,” Sam said, moving his hand over his stomach, “I’m starved.”

“Sammy, you should’ve said you were hungry! I wouldn’t have taken so much time stopping along the way,” you answered, a small wave of guilt painting your features.

“No, doll, it’s fine,” he assured you, “I want you to have fun without feeling rushed.”

You gave a reluctant nod. “Okay, but next time say something.”

“I promise,” he replied, “Now let’s finish up this trail.” He watched you excitedly walk ahead, taking in the wonder of your surroundings, glancing back occasionally to make sure he was following along. Seeing you so effortlessly happy made his heart swell. Joy radiated from you, and it made you all the more beautiful.

These were the moments that Sam treasured most. The times when you were so overcome with the world around you that everything else seemed to fade away. They were the moments when you were most yourself, and they were the moments that would stay in Sam’s mind for long after. It was times like these that made Sam remember why he was so in love with you.

He eventually caught up to you in the trail, and you excitedly grabbed his hand, pulling him to the latest plant you had seen. Soft laughter fell from his lips as you continued to point out flower after flower, elation pouring from every inch of you.

The two of you neared the end of the trail when your phone began to buzz. You quickly retrieved it from your bag and answered the call.

“Hey!” you began, happiness still coloring your voice. “No, I’m at the gardens with Sam. We’re about to have lunch,” you said, nudging Sam and gesturing to the cafe ahead. “Oh yeah, I’d love that! At six thirty?” you paused for a moment, “Okay, I’ll see you then, babe. Love you!” You placed your phone back in your bag and turned to Sam.

“Who was that?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“Chris. He wants to take me to see that new movie I was talking about the other day,” you explained.

“Ooooh a date night, huh?” Sam teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

You gave him a small shove, “Yes, Samuel, my boyfriend wants to have a date night.”

He let a small giggle fall from his lips, “Well that sounds fun. You want me to drop you at home after lunch so you can get ready?”

“Yeah, that’d be really nice of you, Sam,” you replied, “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he answered, “Now let’s go get some lunch.”

“Alright,” you laughed, walking ahead to the small cafe. Sam stayed behind, watching as the sun painted your hair and reflected off the small bracelets on your wrist with a small smile on his face.

He knew that you would probably never love him in the exact way he loved you, but in this moment, that was okay. He didn’t need a lifetime of sacred “I love you”s or secret touches. He was grateful for the love he had and the time he got to spend with you, and really, that was all he needed. It was enough to bask in your light and feel its warmth. And with that thought in mind, Sam moved forward, content to spend an afternoon in your glow.

taglist: @westernwoods (anybody who wants to be tagged in future stuff let me know!!)

#sam kiszka x reader #sam x reader #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka x you #sam kiszka #sam gvf #sammy gvf #gvf fic #greta van fleet #mal writes #Spotify

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sxtaep · 3 years ago

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OFF THE TABLE - KTH | seven (m)

↬ synopsis: a horrific case from 1993 has resurfaced 29 years later, leaving kim taehyung & mei yuna to argue in favour of the public to keep the defendant in jail. the only problem? the pair despise each other.

pairing — taehyung x female oc

genre — fluff, angst

word count — 4.3k

chapter warnings/tags — very domestic, kissing (just a little bit), past exes, oc’s mom lowkey fancies taehyung, sexual innuendos, some hostility, childhood trauma, mentions of abuse, mentions of mistreatment, overall a little sad for taehyung :(

a/n: this is a taehyung love club !

series masterlist | next

A few hours later, Yuna woke up in a cold sweat. She looked to her side for her phone, checking the time just to see it was 4am. She had a huge headache and she felt extremely hot. Taehyung was still sound asleep and she did her best to get out of bed without waking him. Thankfully, she succeeded but almost stumbled as she stood on her feet. She threw on her robe and quietly made her way downstairs for some water.

Taehyung would roll to his other side, hugging the duvet closer to himself, still asleep, but something would tick him awake. He then almost immediately opened his eyes and looked around without moving his body.

The shuffling outside of the room was enough to let him know that she was probably going down because she was hungry. He huffed quietly and just laid there, waiting for her to come back.

Yuna stepped into the kitchen, heading straight to her little medicine cupboard above her toaster, opening it and stretching her arm up to grab the box, however she struggled. The box was too far deep in the cupboard, so she had to try and use her fingertips to inch the box closer to her.

Losing control, the plastic box fell on the counter, causing a pretty loud thump, making her jump.

Hearing this, Taehyung would jump out of bed and run downstairs in a panic. As he stepped in the kitchen and saw her all good and well and let out a sigh of relief.

"Can't sleep?"

She looked back at him over her shoulder, her hands scattering to collect the sprawled out boxes of pills.

"Something like that," she replies, shrugging it off.

Taehyung frowned and stepped closer to her, gently placing the back of his hand against her forehead.

"Baby, you're warm."

"Yup, I feel it too, I feel like I'm in an oven," she grumbles, popping the tablets into her mouth and gulping down some water. "Maybe I got food poisoning, I don't know.."

Letting out a heavy sigh, he pulled her into a hug, giving her a kiss on top of her head. "If you don't feel better in the morning, I'll take you to the doctors.

Yuna leans her head against his chest and nodding. "Gosh, this just had to happen at the worst time. We could be getting the date of the hearing anytime now. Imagine it's this week? Fuck, I'm gonna have to call in sick in a few hours."

"Let's just hope you get better. If you don't, I'm pretty sure Giana and I will make it work for all of us." He pet her hair, kissing her head again. "Wanna try and fall asleep again? Maybe it will help?"

"Yeah.. I don't think I'll be able to sleep in my room, it's too hot in there. I'll stick to the living room couch," she tells him with a small smile, patting his shoulder and walking past him with a glass of water in hand, taking it to the living room.

Upstairs was always warmer than downstairs, and seeing as she was already burning, with barely anything on her body, the best choice would be to stay downstairs.

"You can go back upstairs.."

Taehyung frowned again, following behind her into the living room, "I wanna stay with you, to make sure everything is alright."

His concern for her made her feel all warm inside. She rested her head on his shoulder, looking straight ahead. "I'm not a child you know. I've been sick before. It's nothing I can't handle," she boasts, trying to lighten the mood. "But.. I appreciate it," she finally says with a sigh.

He smiled softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. "Is it just a fever? Or do you feel like it's something else?"

"I'm not sure.. it might just be a fever since I feel like I'm burning up. I should be fine in a few days though," she tells him reassuringly, smiling lazily and closing her eyes for a few seconds to see if she could fall asleep.

Taehyung nodded and he kissed her head yet again. He noticed she was trying to sleep again, so he remained silent.

Yuna fell asleep within a few minutes with Taehyung by her side, indicated by her light snores. Normally when she got sick like this, she'd be a mess; fidgeting and moving about, struggling to sleep. It seemed that just his presence itself could make her feel a hell of a lot better.

Taehyung just sat there, watching her sleep peacefully. After a couple minutes, he fixed her a bit, moving to lay her down properly on the sofa, whilst he got up to sit on the carpet.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, her symptoms were physically visible and he didn't want her getting more ill.

When morning came, Yuna was still lying on the sofa. Assuming he was next to her, she had a look around, not seeing him anywhere until she looked down to see him fast asleep on the floor. She carefully knelt down onto the floor, brushing her hands through his hair to wake him up. "Tae.. you're gonna be late for work," she whispers in his ear.

Taehyung rubbed the tiredness off his eyes, slowly waking up after some struggle. He turned his gaze on her with a soft smile. "Feeling better yet?" He stretched, his arms above his head, hearing his bones crack in the process. His back was pain due to the uncomfortable position he fell asleep in.

"Yeah, somewhat better," she places her hand under his back, pushing him to sit up. "You're so silly, you should've just slept with me on the sofa. There was more than enough space," she scolds him, rubbing his back.

Taehyung stood up to fix his clothes and look at the clock on the wall. "Shit, it is pretty late. I don't even have time to go home and change.." Letting out a heavy sigh, he fixed his eyes on her again, his smile making a comeback. "I'll let sir know that you're sick, so don't worry about that."

Yuna nodded and flashed him a small smile, standing up along with him and placing a small kiss on his cheek. "Are you going home after work or will you be coming back here?"

"I'll probably go home to grab some clothes, but if you don't mind, I want to stay here and take care of you." He wrapped his arms around her to pull her into a hug, as he rest his chin on the top of her head.

"Yeah, no that's perfectly fine.." His words definitely sparked something inside of her, making her feel all 'lovey dovey' inside and have her heart racing. She smiled to herself and looked up at him with so much adoration, she seriously looked like she was in love.

Taehyung would come back to her house after several hours, wearing a simple pair of black dress pants and a grey sweater, his gym bag full of clothes over his shoulder. He locked his car, putting the keys into the bag and gently knocked on the door, fixing the bag on his shoulders. His hair was damp as he just got out of the shower.

Yuna opened the door for him with a smile. Yikes, it felt like she was waiting for her husband to come home.

"I could open the door to this everyday," she laughs softly, eyeing his wet hair and his choice of attire. She moves aside to let him in and close the door behind him. "How was work? I hope it wasn't too hectic."

As soon as he entered, he dropped his bag to the floor and pulled her into a very long kiss, one hand tenderly cupping her cheek as he made her stumble back into the house. Oh, he was latched onto her. The kiss was so long, he was close to just eating her face off, but he couldn't let that happen at the front door, so he finally pulled away, out of breath and smiling down at her.

"It wasn't too bad, but I missed you so much."

How could he respond so casually like he didn't just have his tongue down her throat. Yuna was still recovering, clearing the throat, "I missed you too. I didn't realise how boring it would be being alone."

Yuna left his side and went and sit on the sofa, looking at him expectantly for a few seconds hoping he'd follow, before her phone started ringing on the table. Her screen lit up, seeing it was her mother that called.

"Hey mom," she says with a sigh, leaning against the sofa. It was typical of her mother to be such a chatterbox.

"I've got a pretty bad fever but I can handle it, you really don't need to come over—" her mother's words over the phone cut her off, insisting she come and take care of her daughter, which Yuna was not allowed to refuse.

"I hope that wasn't an ex of yours that was calling you," he heard her talking to someone, but didn't hear good enough to know who it was.

"It was actually my mother. She was just checking up on me, then I told her I was sick and now she's gonna be here in the next 5 minutes." Talk about her mother only had her realising that this would be the first time Taehyung would be meeting her, and they weren't even in a relationship.

His eyes shot wide open, as he took his time to understand her words.

"I'm aware this will be your first time meeting my mother, but don't worry, she's really easy going and fun."

When it finally hit him, he ran to the door and grabbed his bag, then quickly ran upstairs. "And I look like a complete mess!"

Yuna didn’t have the physical abilities to chase after him, so she let him do what he must for a couple minutes before a knock was heard at the front door,!indicating her mother had arrived. Taehyung was rushing to try and look presentable but honestly, it didn't matter. He could waltz around naked and he'd still look good.

She huffed and headed for the door, opening the door to be engulfed by her mother's open arms.

"Yuna! Are you doing okay?" the older woman frets, squeezing Yuna in her arms and pulling away, her hands reaching up to touch her face.

Taehyung could hear the older woman as he changed into a polyester white button up shirt, leaving the first few buttons undone, exposing his tatted chest a little. He huffed and went back downstairs, forgeting to dry his hair.

Whilst walking down the stairs, he fixed his rings, making sure they wouldn’t slip off his finger, as he called out to her, "Yuna, have you seen my—?" He stops abruptly, finally being in the presence of her mother.

Yuna met eyes with him over her shoulder, not having enough time to appreciate his outfit. "Seen your..?" she trails off, waiting for him to finish his sentence but he didn't seem to budge.

"Honey.. what is Mr Kim doing in your house?" she asks, staring at the man on her staircase in awe.

Mrs Mei knew him?

Of course she did, Taehyung was all Yuna would complain and bitch about everyday after work, and no matter how much hate she expressed about the man, her mother would always find ways to make him seem better than he actually was. The term 'handsome' would be thrown about quiet a lot by the older woman.

"Ah, hello there."

Yuna was just waiting for her mother to freak out, and it happened a few seconds after Taehyung came down. Her mother let go of Yuna and threw her arms around him, gushing over the fact her 'handsome' work colleague was in her house. "Oh, Mr Kim! How are you doing? You shouldn't be standing, come come, sit," her mother ushers him towards the sofa, leaving Yuna dumbfounded at the door.

Taehyung didn't know how to feel. Looking over his shoulder at his girlfriend, he forced a tight smile, before turning around to face her mother, sitting down on the sofa beside her.

"I'm fine, thank you, but please, call me Taehyung. I'm also sorry for being here whilst you're visiting your daughter, but she's sick and I wanted to take care of her. Apologies for any intrusion."

The shock on her mother's face was understandable. "Yuna! You never told me Taehyung was your boyfriend!" she gushes, gesturing for her daughter to come and sit behind her, which she hesitantly obliged to, taking a seat next to her mother. "Um, mom.. he's not my boyfriend yet.." she whispers to her, hoping she'd understand and keep her mouth shut.

Taehyung's ears would perk up at her words and immediately frown, raising a brow as he leaned back catch a glimpse of the girl from behind of her mother.

"Oh, I'm not?"

She smiles nervously at Taehyung, her eyes gesturing towards her mother and bringing a finger up to her lips for him to stay quiet. Her mother didn't notice since her full attention was on her coworkers. She didn't want to tell her mother she and Taehyung were in a relationship just yet, for the sake of her own being. Her mother would probably go into cardiac arrest if she got told now so suddenly.

He immediately understood, yet him being himself, he showed a huge smirk and rested his back on the sofa, as his hands landed on his thighs. "That's not what you were saying last night.."

Her mother snapped her head towards Yuna, who couldn't do anything but narrow her eyes at the man.

"Excuse me?"

Taehyung would simply shrug as he got up and fixed his shirt, still sporting that god-forsaken smirk of his, "I didn't know you call someone you have sex with a ‘friend’, but alright." He then acted all innocent, as he turned his gaze to her mother with a smile. "I'll make us some tea, how about that?"

Without waiting for an answer, he disappeared, walking to the kitchen.

Her mother turned around to look at Yuna in complete shock. The older woman was going to question it, but Yuna stopped her, getting up from the sofa and and following him into the kitchen.

"If you're gonna say something like that, you should've at least said it correctly.." she mumbles, standing behind him. "We didn't have sex, I sucked you off," she whispers, hoping her mother wouldn't hear.

"You are acting as if me fucking you in your office didn't happen, baby," he winks at her, making a start on the tea.

"My mom doesn't need to know that.." she rolls her eyes with a knowing smile and backs away from him, standing beside him and leaning against the counter.

"Shouldn't you go to your mother? It's pretty rude to leave your guest alone," he raises an eyebrow at her, carefully pouring the steaming hot water into the mug.

Yuna rolls her eyes and heads out of the kitchen and back into the living room, thankful her mother was still on the sofa and not wandering around. "Taehyung is almost finished with the tea.." she tells her, taking a seat next to her.

"Honey, you know you can tell me if he's your boyfriend right?"

Of course she knew, she trusted her mother more than anyone else in the world. "Okay.. so he is my boyfriend.."

Oh, the smile on her mothers face was to die for "How long have you guys been dating?"

Before Yuna could give her an answer, Taehyung was making his way into the living room with a hot cup of tea in hand, handing it to the older woman, who carefully took the fine china from him, so as to not spill the beverage onto herself.

Her mother briefly thanked him and took a small sip, making sure not to burn her tongue in the process.

"You make a very good cup of tea Taehyung," her mother praises, showing him an appreciative smile. "I hope Yuna isn't forcing you stay and look after her. I'm sure you've got a lot of work to do."

Taehyung cocker a brow at her words, his eyes moving back and forth from Yuna and then to her mother. He frowned and cleared his throat, "What do you mean by that? Why would she be forcing me?"

Was it obvious he was growing a little tense?

"Oh it's nothing bad! Her last boyfriends usually wouldn't be around whenever she was sick, so I'd always come over and take care of her. This is the first time a boyfriend of hers has ever voluntarily took care of her," her mother gushes, rubbing Yuna's back gently, who smiled awkwardly ahead upon being reminded of her shitty exes.

"Ah, I see.." He then cleared his throat again, feeling bad for judging her mother too soon; he was getting mad at the lady and already got his guard up. He then shook his head, trying to get rid of the guilt in his stomach. "Well? I'm not one of her exes and I don't plan on being one anytime soon. If she feels sick or needs me here with her, I shall be here with her and for her."

Either Yuna was hearing things, or she was smiling like an idiot for no reason. Everything he said was making her heart race and her insides feel warm and giddy, and it seemed like her mother had the same reaction.

"Ah.. We'll I'm glad. On a completely different note, I should probably get going. I only came over to check on Yuna, thinking she was alone, but thankfully she's in safe hands, so thank you for that, Taehyung." Her mother stands up, grabbing her bag and heading to the door.

Now it was just Taehyung and Yuna stood at the door. She let out a sigh of relief, thankful their first meeting went a lot smoother than she had expected.

"You good, Tae?”

"No, not really,” he responds dismissively, walking past her back to the living room and sitting down on the sofa with a huff.

He was too quick to jump to conclusions with Mrs Mei. Taehyung had to stop thinking that just because his mother was a bad person, it meant every mother was just as bad.

Yuna hesitantly followed after him, taking a seat next to him. "Do you mind.." she starts, tugging at her bottom lip, deciding on whether she should ask such an intrusive question. "Do you mind telling me about your mother? I mean you don't have to, I understand she may be a sensitive topic for you to get in to."

Taehyung would sigh, looking down at the rings adorning his finger and fidgeting around with them.

"No, it is fine. I guess you should know about my past if we're planning to spend our near future together."

Hearing him mention the pair spending their lives together popped another thought in her mind. So far, things were going so well with their relationship, she didn't stop to think about her plans for the future with him.

Were they serious serious about this?

She brushes her thoughts away to the back of her mind, focusing herself on him.

He cleared his throat, turning his gaze on her, and showing her a slight smile. "Just— please, do not feel bad for me. The last thing I need is pity."

Yuna nods quickly, knowing well she'd still feel pity for the man whether he liked it or not.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, scratching his prickly chin, "Well.. My parents always wanted to have a son. My father owned a firm, similar to the one we work in, and thought only his lawyer son could inherit it. They didn't have any luck the first time around, having my older sister, Imelda."

In all the years she'd known Taehyung, she had no idea he had an older sister, and quite frankly, she couldn't really imagine it.

"So they tried once again and, much to my dismay, they had me. They believed that I was perfect for their sick plan of fitting me into their dreams, but I wasn't doing great at school. I prefered spending time with my sister, y'know, cooking and playing with dolls, instead of studying everyday and going to the firm with my father."

Yuna could only nod intently at his words. Understanding how difficult it must've been to grow up and being forced to live your parents' dream was not an easy one.

"After some time, they understood I wasn't the perfect son they imagine me to be," he swallows loudly, hesitating to mention the worst bit, not really wanting to hit her with something that would definitely leave a scar on her mind. It did explain how he ran away and came here after being almost being forced to partake in an arranged marriage.

She squeezed his hand a few times, noticing the concern and worry in his eyes, reassuring him that he could continue.

Taehyung was still hesitating to go on, and he couldn't face Yuna, not after the bombshell he's about to drop on her, so he turned away from her, resting his back on the sofa and throwing his head back to avoid her eyes.

"My father would beat me for any little mistake I made and I was treated worse than his guard dogs. If I got a bad grade, they didn't let me have dinner and if I retaliated or even tried to run away, I'd be stuck in a state of constant fear, not knowing what he'd to do me next. And that wasn't even the worst part," Taehyung pauses, taking a moment to himself to collect his thoughts.

"My mother would stand there and watch. She wouldn't even try to stop him.”

Honestly, Yuna was in disbelief. You'd only ever hear about parents mistreating their kids on the news, but it certainly hit her a lot harder knowing that he was subjected to such treatment. What's worse was she couldn't even do anything to console him since he refused to accept her pity.

"Are you.. still in contact with your parents..?" she asks quietly.

"They haven't contacted me since I ran away. I only keep in touch with my sister, but I hear they're in the city right now. My mother is from around here and I heard from Imelda her father finally died."

Finally?

"Don't you think you should pay your mother visit? I mean, it's probably the last thing you wanna do, but maybe some catch-up with her would help?"

Taehyung sighed for what felt like the tenth time, as he hid his face in his hands. "I don't know. I'm still mad at her for everything."

She hums and leans back against the sofa with him. "Maybe.. your mother had no choice? You haven't heard both sides of the story so you should sit down and get some answers, don't you think?"

Yuna had a point. Taehyung was pinning a lot of the blame on his mother, maybe his father was hurting her too?

"Yeah, I think you're right," he concludes, standing up from the sofa, "I'll call my sister and ask if our mother is here, and if she is.." he bit down on his bottom lip, looking over at her, as he hid his hands in his pockets, fidgeting with his fingers.

"...You think you can come with me? I really don't feel like confronting her alone."

She stands next to him, the pity she'd been trying to hide for so long, now peeking out. "Of course I'll come with you."

Yuna was going through her phone, waiting for Taehyung to come out of the shower, when a very important email caught her attention. She sat up in bed and opened the email, finally reading that the date for the hearing had been set.

3 days from now.

"Taehyung?" she calls out to him, getting out of bed rushing over towards the bathroom, which he was already leaving.

"Yeah?" He brushes the drenched strands of hair away from his eyes to get a better look at her.

"Look," she hands him her phone to take a look at the email that was sent to them by their boss. "They've set a date for the hearing. It's three days from now.

Taehyung merely gave her an 'are you being serious?' look, "What? You've never been to a hearing before?" he pouts, pulling at Yuna's cheeks and walking into her bedroom.

"Come on!! Are you not excited? Or at least scared? Worried? This is a world class case, you know. There's gonna be a lot of press and we're gonna have to do interviews, like how they do it in the movies.." goes on and on about it until they're both lying in bed.

"Yeah, I know." Taehyung kept staring up at the ceiling, and when he felt her eyes burning into him, he shifted his head slightly to glance at her.

"I can see many emotions coming out of you right now, but I must admit, I really wanna put a close to this case. It's one of my least favourites to be honest."

"Mhm, agreed. Hopefully after this, things will go back to normal.." she mumbles with a sigh followed straight after.

'Normal' would mean.. Taehyung and Yuna going back to nothing more than work colleagues.

She didn't want that.

"Goodnight, Taehyung." She leans in to place a kiss on his cheek before turning her back towards him and falling asleep.

"Goodnight, love."

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