#How to avoid heart disease

[whiskeyswifty]

.

[drsibia]

How to Detect Early Heart Disease and Avoid Heart Bypass Surgery with EECP Natural Bypass, Extracorporeal Shockwave Myocardial Revascularization (ESMR) and Artery Chelation Therapy (ACT)

#DetectEarlyHeartDisease #EarlyHeartDisease #HeartDisease #AvoidHeartBypassSurgery #EECP #Natural Bypass #ExtracorporealShockwaveMyocardialRevascularization #ESMR #ArteryChelationTherapy #ACT #ChelationTherapy

[kai-sv]

grief is weird

[kghospital]

Not long ago, heart attacks were primarily a problem faced by the elderly. Heart attacks are rare in people under the age of 40. Now 1 in 5 heart attack patients are under the age of 40. Many people in their 30s and 40s are at increased risk of life-threatening heart disease and sudden heart attacks. It is important to understand the cause of heart attacks in young adults. When sudden death occurs in adolescents and young adults, it is sometimes caused by undiagnosed heart disease, such as genetic heart disease. An undiagnosed heart problem can cause sudden death in a young person during physical exertion. However, sometimes sudden cardiac death can occur without exertion. Coronavirus, now the leading cause of heart problems, can directly affect and damage the muscle tissue of the heart, as can other viral infections, including some strains of influenza. The heart can be damaged and indirectly inflamed by the reaction of the body's own immune system. Dr.Nitthiyan MD, DNB Interventional Cardiologist, KG Hospital, Coimbatore, explains heart attack at a young age: how to avoid it, common risk factors, how coronavirus causes heart problems, and how to prevent it.

[sunderwight]

Liushen AU where SY transmigrates into SJ's older brother, and subsequently nopes them right out of the slavery backstory by using his general knowledge of the story and actually being an adult in a kid's body to just leave (basically) with SJ and YQ.

SY carts them both up to Cang Qiong for the next sect trials. It's actually not all that hard, the trickiest part is getting enough to eat and finding safe places to sleep between leaving the slavers and taking the trials (SY manages just barely, with considerable help from his new little brothers.) Nobody bothers to go after them because it's before Qiu Jianluo and this style of human traffickers mostly operate by virtue of their merchandise having nowhere else to go. Chasing down runaways is an expense not worth indulging, given that most of them either come straight back or die of exposure.

Anyway, they take the trials, and as expected YQY gets chosen to become a personal disciple for the sect leader, and SJ gets chosen by the Qing Jing Peak Lord, but also as (kind of) expected (by SY alone) nobody wants SY. He's older the Yue Qi, so too old, and unlike YQ and SJ his cultivation potential isn't striking enough to make any exceptions for him.

SY, however, can't leave it at that. He's spent more than five minutes with the street kid codependency gang, so he's gotten attached to both of them. And he knows what will happen if they're left to their own devices and The Plot proceeds accordingly. (Also, they keep threatening to not stay at the sect if SY doesn't stay too, for some reason.) So with a heavy heart and internal candle lit for himself, SY heads to Bai Zhan Peak. Which is the only peak that accepts disciples by way of them turning up and refusing to leave.

SY's not much of a fighter. He actually really hates the atmosphere on BZP, he's not bad at physical cultivation (his health's pretty good in this life, ironic considering how much worse his situation was) but the random ambushes and survival-of-the-fittest stuff is just not his brand. But that's okay, because it turns out that BZP actually DESPERATELY needs disciples on the actual peak who are interested in things other than fighting and cultivating their own strength. Stuff like, filling out requisition requests for An Ding every time things break, apologizing to An Ding every time things break again, organizing schedules, browbeating senior disciples into actually teaching, educating disciples on virtually any artistic or social skill, hosting lectures on how to beat vicious beasts without just overpowering them, and etc.

Okay so some of this stuff isn't and has never actually been on Bai Zhan's curriculum but Shen Yuan is going to make this place tolerable. And stop these children from needlessly getting acid burns or lyme disease or scurvy or whatever. He keeps internally chewing out Airplane for designing a sect system that means there are a lot of largely unsupervised 12-year-olds running around the wilderness on a mountain picking fights all the time. (When he actually meets Shang Qinghua and figures him out he switches to doing it in person, of course, in twice-monthly bitching sessions that look a lot like budding friendship.)

Of course one of the worst offenders is the Liu kid, who SY would suspect was actually raised by wolves if he didn't know for a fact that Liu Qingge has a younger sister, and also the kinds of nice clothing and letters from home that strongly imply not only does he have a family, but that the family is pretty well-off. Liu Qingge is at first deeply offended by SY being a BZP disciple. He rarely fights anyone, and uses tricks and evasion tactics whenever a fight can't be avoided. And he does other annoying stuff, like pestering him about meals and baths and lecturing him on identifying dangerous plants and the early signs of qi deviation. This is not what their peak is about! He should get with the program already! Just fight stuff until you're too tired to keep fighting stuff!

Also SY's younger brother, SJ, is pure evil (at least according to baby Liu Qingge) even though his other younger brother (?) is cool and nice.

Anyway, Liu Qingge stops complaining about SY after their first mission together, where Liu Qingge doesn't lose a fight but does get into a kind of pyrrhic victory situation where he's really badly hurt, and it's SY who helps him win (correctly identifying the monster and then pointing out its weakness) and takes care of him afterwards and gets him safely back to Cang Qiong. SY expresses surprise at LQG actually being polite to him, and LQG realizes that he's been a colossal ass if people think he wouldn't be grateful to someone who saved his life, so the usual Liushen dynamic proceeds from there. Liu Qingge starts bringing SY fans he leaves behind and hunts down animals that are supposed to be useful for bolstering weak cultivation, SY invites LQG to tea and keeps the critters as pets, etc etc.

SY doesn't get the Head Disciple position, because that's only acquired via beating the current peak lord in combat and lol no. Also he's not interested in stealing it from Liu Qingge, to whom it rightfully belongs (in his mind). But that's fine, because Liu Qingge takes the position when the next generation ascends and then he lets SY exclusively handle all the peak duties SY actually likes (mainly teaching). It's perfect -- Liu Qingge gets to focus on his War God antics and occasional administration/meetings without having to deal with students his has no patience for, but the disciples of BZP don't get neglected because SY is actually teaching and organizing classes and student care. BZP hasn't enjoyed a golden age like this since it was founded!

Things are pretty good overall, but Shen Yuan knows that it's only a matter of time before The Plot shows up, and so he can't rest completely easily.

Meanwhile, the will-they-or-won't-they bets on Liushen have been going strong for a while now. The thing is, most of their martial siblings are convinced that these two are already "together", and just being circumspect about it. Those who know SY well (like SJ, YQY, and SQH) know better but think that SY's romantic obtuseness is to blame, whereas those who know LQG well (LMY, WQW, and MQF) are pretty sure that it's actually LQG's obtuseness that's the problem. Of course it's actually both of them, so efforts to "fix" matters by getting through one of their thick skulls inevitably run afoul of the other's.

An additional complication is of course: SJ doesn't like LQG (mutual), and now that he's the leader of his own peak, he wants to poach SY to come and live there. Not only so he can have one of the 2 people he trusts actually close at hand, but also because SJ also hates actually teaching the atrocious little brats on his peak, and would like to have SY come and do it for him. YQY is still a total pushover for him too, and is also now the sect leader, so YQY agrees that SY can change peaks if SY and LQG both agree to it.

Liu Qingge, of course, is a no, but he's a variable "no". He's not going to hold Shen Yuan against his will or anything.

As for Shen Yuan, it's... complicated. He doesn't really like BZP, but it's gotten a lot better than it was at the start. These days he's actually pretty proud of his accomplishments, and it's more comfortable, but it's still a rough and rowdy place with fewer creature comforts, libraries, or other appealing points than QJP. Also, if he goes to Qing Jing to teach, he can personally ensure that SJ doesn't go around persecuting any of his students!

But... SJ never lived with the Qiu family in this AU, and even though SY's not totally clear on what the PIDW backstory for SJ was, he knows he's a better guy now than the scum villain in the book was. He has a reputation for making cutting remarks, not for being an abusive snake or a lecher. SY's honestly less worried about him doing anything bad at all, and there are other people on QJP who can teach. It might even be good for SJ to promote more people to fill out a social circle he can rely on! That guy needs more friends, seriously.

And QJP really doesn't need more layabout literary intellectual types who get into pointless arguments, which is all SY would be if he went there. Just yet another nerdy scholar for the rich kids with middling cultivation that the peak favors to ignore. At least on BZP he's filling a gap.

SY is clearly torn, and the fact that SY's considering it has LQG upset, and LQG doesn't handle being upset very well, so of course they have an argument about it. SY storms off to cool his head and LQG is like, this is it, he's gone to Qing Jing Peak, I've drive him off by being too aggressive and he's probably remembering all those times I told him he didn't belong here and oh no what have I done maybe if I build him a heated bath and get him books he will come back???

Turns out that SY just went to An Ding to vent at SQH while SQH was like "I think you would have fewer problems if you and Liu Qingge just got married and my disciples could call you Shigu to your face instead of behind your back" and SY threw melon seeds at him and sulked on his fainting couch (which is always cold for some reason...)

Thus begins the Liushen Divorce Arc where SY tries to be anywhere but BZP or QJP, Liu Qingge tries to figure out what thing he can punch to fix this not-punchable problem, SJ is like "I don't see what the big deal is they should break up Liu Qingge is awful and I want my brother to teach my classes for me" like the spoiled youngest sibling he's finally allowed to be, YQY is trying to moderate this Hades vs Demeter situation and is all "well maybe SY could spend half the year on QJP and half on BZP?", and Liu Mingyan is going "I know my brother if this doesn't work out he is going to die single and pining like an idiot" and so keeps conscripting other disciples to y'know, lock SY and LQG into storage closets together (ineffective: LQG can punch through walls) or at least get them in the same room (underestimating SY's willingness to yeet himself out of windows to avoid awkward social interactions.)

By the time Luo Binghe joins the sect (as a Qiong Ding disciple), the drama is in full swing and is the main topic of gossip across most of the peaks.

[deathlooksgoodonyou-if]

It was the summer of 2010 when you found Jules Hawkins by the lake. But it didn't look like Jules Hawkins.

After all, how could it? Jules Hawkins was a god. And as you know, gods like Jules are unbreakable. If you knew anyone death couldn't touch, it was Jules. And yet, somehow it felt like you had never seen Jules look more like them than they did, that day, dead by the lake. Plump cherry lips, now parched and blue, dirt on their perfect knees, golden hair sticking to their forehead, exquisite clothes matted and muddied, skin, ghostly pale.

Even in death, even as Jules became a child of soil and dirt and ruin, Jules managed to look like art. How could this creature of beauty be anyone else but Jules Hawkins?

A string of murders follow the passing of Jules Hawkins and in the desperation of avoiding being tangled in the web of this cold blooded murderer, you end up right in the thick of it when you find out the killer may have set their eyes on you next.

Of course, you ended up in the killer's radar. You had always been a child of misfortune, after all.

• Customise your mc. Choose your appearance. Play as male, female, non-binary or trans; straight, gay or bisexual etc.

• Play as an emotionally scarred individual. Escape the hell you call your mind, alone or with the help of allies. Or succumb to the voices.

• Find your predator before your predator finds you. Or keep running. How far will you run? Do you even want to run?

• Befriend, antagonize, manipulate or romance fellow residents of Ravenwoods.

• Heavily character driven.

• The lake calls out to you. Will you listen?

JULIAN/NE "JULES" HAWKINS. [he/him or she/her] [semi ro]

You knew Jules in the way you wish you never did. Jules is embedded into your very bones. Jules is a part of you. You wish you could escape them.

Jules may be no more for the world but they are alive and breathing in your haywire brain and they are not very kind. Not that they ever were. But the Jules that haunts you, plagues you like a disease is ruthless with their words in a way the old Jules could never be. Not to you.

Description : Pale skin. Rosy tint to cheeks. High cheekbones. f!Long wheatish blonde curly hair with bangs. m!shoulder length curly wheatish blonde hair. Almond shaped brown eyes. Arched eyebrows. Long, thick lashes. Bow shaped lips. f!willowy frame. 5'11. m!broad back, narrow waist, long legs. 6'2.

CHAE WARREN. [he/him]

There are few you consider friend and Warren is one of them, alongside Sujin. He is revolution in a glass jar. A little rough around the edges, with bullet holes in his paper heart. Lately, the air becomes laced with awkwardness when its just the two of you around. You wish you weren't fairly perceptive. Perhaps that could have made you oblivious to the way Warren's adams apple bobs and his throat tightens when you are around, the way his fists clench when his tongue slips or the way he glances at you thinking you didn't notice.

Description : Sharp jaw. Medium complexion. Monolid chocolate brown eyes. Straight eyebrows. Thin pinkish lips. 5'7. Athletic figure. Short dyed dark red hair.

JESSICA HAWKINS. [she/her]

Jules' twin. You never bothered to acquaint yourself with her. She had always seemed too saintly and your mother had taught you well to stay away from that kind. Those who hide their tainted souls behind rosemary lies, platinum smiles and bright eyes stitched from sunshine. Beware of them, your mother had told you. But is that what she truly is doing? Spinning honeyed tales from saccharine lips?

You would never know. Unless you choose to. If it helps, Jules lips always quirked upwards and the crease in their brows mellowed whenever her name rolled off their tongue.

Description : Kind almond shaped brown eyes. Long, thick lashes. Bow shaped lips. Arched eyebrows. High cheekbones. Straight blonde hair, reaching her back. Pale skin. Willowy frame. 5'10.

DYLAN JEANE. [he/him]

Jules' boyfriend, Dylan. Well, ex boyfriend now. He seems to harbour a deep dislike for you. No matter how hard he denies it— the slight tensing of the muscles in his jaw always give it away.

You had always been curious about him. Jules and him were an odd pair. How could Dylan be what Jules desired? They were polar opposites. Jules was tidal waves and traditional typhoons. He is ruddy sunsets and roseate dawns. He is habit, he is routine, he is rigid, he is never changing. A sad strange kind of tragedy. Jules was anything but that. Jules was everything at once. Jules was never the same. Jules was uneven. Jules was hurricanes and tsunamis.

There is a natural downwards turn to his lips, his shoulders always a little hunched as if the burdens of life have dripped down from the ceiling and chosen to settle like dust upon his shoulders. You wonder what weighs him down so terribly. He talks as if every breath he takes from his lungs rattles him to the core. Perhaps it does. He seems to have taken Jules' death as hard as you, if not worse.

Description : Short slicked back midnight black hair. Heavy lidded hazel eyes. Slender built. Wears rimless rectangular glasses occassionally. Angular face. Sharp lips. Upwards eyebrows. Fair skin. 6'1.

AIDEN HAMILTON. [he/him]

The second child of the sleazy mayor. Boy of many faces. You don't trust him one ounce. For good reasons. It irks you to watch his eyes glimmer as if you are a specimen that intrigues him. You don't trust the myriad of unhealthy secrets he hides behind his charming gaze, the sly smile that tugs off the corner of his lips or the disarming lilt of voice as his salty tongue rolls off silken threads of honeysuckle lies frictionlessly. It comes to him as naturally as breathing. The impurity of his father's gold taints him, it runs in his veins and he embraces it willfully.

He is hiding skeletons in his closets and everybody knows that. What it is however, is a different story.

Will he let you in on a secret?

Description : Unruly brown wavy hair, in a middle part. Luscious lips, heavy lower lip, a small faint and old scar at the corner of his mouth. S-shaped eyebrows. Sea green hooded eyes. Tanned complexion. V-shaped jaw. Toned build. 6'4.

HEATHER HAMILTON. [she/her]

Eldest child of the mayor. You are not particularly friends but she is not a bad company to have around either. You like her. You have met in passing and she always has a quick smile reserved for you. You know she is a dreamer with a pomegranate heart. She has also somehow inherited her mother's love of parties. Hers tend to be a little more wild and carefree, though. Just like her.

Uncharacteristically, she is also fond of painting. Will you be her muse?

Description : Straight brown hair in a bob cut. Hooded brown eyes. Heart shaped lips. Soft arch eyebrows. Skinny frame. Tanned complexion. Dimples on both cheeks. 5'7.

MIA MORGAN. [she/her]

Mia Morgan is the kind of girl who will rip your heart out, eat it raw and call it love. With midnight eyes of catlike grace that could rival any godforsaken abyss and lips richer and darker than the blood running in your veins, she's the kind of girl that would skin you alive and chew on your fickle heart but then kiss your eyelids and tell you 'good night, baby' and you would like a lovesick dog spiral back to her, yearning for more.

Why? Because you are a fool? No. Because she was Mia Morgan and Mia Morgan was born for seduction and playing with the strings of childish hearts. A holy ruination. Destruction in its most, enchanting, enrapturing form.

Will you let her destroy you?

Description : Wispy bangs, short hush cut, black hair. Dark cat eyes. Beauty mark on upper lip. Soft jaw. Chubby cheeks. Crimson pouty lips. Fair complexion. Curvaceous figure. 5'2.

KIM SUJIN. [she/her]

She considers you a close friend, sharing every secret with you.

Description : Bronze skin, wide set brown eyes with gold flecks, button nose, freckles, curtain bangs, medium length chestnut brown hair. 5'3.

ARTHUR MORRIS. [he/him]

Aiden's friend. He's an asshole.

Description : Mahogany complexion, hollowed cheeks, has a stubble, ebony eyes, buzzcut, brawny. 6'1.

PARIS HILL. [he/him]

Local heartthrob. He looks handsome till he opens his mouth.

Description : Sunkissed complexion, wide lips, honey brown eyes, blonde hair in a fringe. Buff arms and broad back. Has an unhealthy obsession with shades. 5'10.

AUNT AUBURN MACKENZIE. [she/her]

She loves you dearly. There is nothing she wouldn't do for you.

Description : Brown hair, generally tied in a loose bun. Wrinkles near eyes and smiling lines around her mouth. Thin lips. Stout and a little hunched frame. Brown complexion. 5'1.

MOTHER. [she/her]

A woman with a twisted understanding of love. You haven't seen her in years and while you may have forgotten her face, her voice still rings crystal clear in your mind, like an old cassette on repeat.

FATHER. [he/him]

A man you knew but never quite understood. It is his face that stares back at you everytime you look in the mirror.

MAYOR JOHN HAMILTON. [he/him]

The mayor of Ravenwoods. It would serve you well to have him as an ally. Having strong connections has always proved to be useful.

Description : Beige skin. Hooked nose. Green eyes. Bushy brows. Short hair, close cropped. Smooth blonde hair. Plump frame. 5'8.

MEERA CHAUHAN HAMILTON. [she/her]

Wife of the mayor. She may be a little snobby but she means well. Most of the times. After all, who isn't a little selfish?

Description : Tanned complexion. Almond brown gold eyes. Brown hair wavy reaching her mid back. Slender frame. 5'10.

LAWRENCE HAWKINS. [he/him]

Father of the Hawkins siblings. You would rather not get involved with him.

Description : Pale skin. Blonde slicked back hair. Blue eyes. High cheek bones. Sharp jaw. Wears frameless rectangular glasses. 5'11.

AURORA HAWKINS. [she/her]

Mother of the Hawkins siblings. You would rather not get involved with her.

Description : Blonde hair, generally tied in a tight bun. Pale skin. Brown eyes. 5'9.

OFFICER RYAN DOUGLAS. [he/him]

He's a good man. He tries his best.

Description : Rosy complexion. Dark brown eyes. Short brown hair. Average build. 5'8.

DEMO. (DECEMBER OR SOONER!)

COG FORUM. (DECEMBER OR SOONER!)

EXCLUSIVE CONTENT. (TBD!)

FAQ.

> Rated 18+ for mature themes such as (heavy spoilers ahead!) explicit language, sexual themes, questionable behaviour, toxic relationships, murder, elitism, child abuse, domestic violence, insomnia, toxic relationships, manipulation, transphobia, racism, internalised transphobia and homophobia, death, childhood trauma, mild nudity, feelings of being watched, stalking, infidelity, hallucinations.

Reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for your interest! <3

[jensettermandu]

open heart - yu jimin

(valentine's day special)

genre; smut, fluff, gets cheesy at times

pairing; g!p karina x female reader

content; age gap (jimin is older), rough sex, hair pulling, praising, degrading names (?), fingering (reader receiving), p in v :D, think i forgot something

synopsis; jimin had never been the romantic type, but she wanted to try and make valentine's day work out despite how much work she and her girlfriend had because working at a hospital meant being on call 24/7. however to her luck, nothing unfortunately went as planned right from the morning because of simple misunderstandings and she ended up raking her brain for how to fix everything

wc; 12k+

masterlist.

a/n: im no doctor peeps, i just occasionally watch grey's anatomy so if anything is not correct medically that's not on me

It was enough that they were busy, that they didn’t have time for dates, and when they did they were already tired after working nonstop for hours. Night shifts, day shifts, working overtime, working for 12 hours a day if not 16 or 24. Being on call 24/7 as in literally because they were always on call.

That couldn’t be enough stress.

Y/n’s day got even worse as she stood in the patient's room, at 7:30 am, fully changed into her dull light blue scrubs and the white lab coat like every other intern in the room. She was exhausted, not because she was tired, but because of how her morning had started. 

The whole reason why she was doing her best to avoid Jimin’s eyes who stood on the opposite end of the bed as they were doing rounds. It was obvious enough, so obvious that she sucked air through her teeth and shot her fellow intern and friend over the time she’s worked there, Yunjin a glance when she nudged Y/n. She tried to get Y/n’s attention, curious about what had happened, the two pushing each other’s hands until Y/n gripped the red heads hand to keep it in place because it was starting to make their other attending doctor look their way all while Minjeong spoke–Y/n standing in the middle of the two. 

“Mrs Lee has a history of heart disease and multiple surgeries—” Minjeong who was yet another intern and friend with the two started. 

The two attending doctors consisted of Yu Jimin, head of cardiothoracic surgery and the general surgeon Miyawaki Sakura. Both of them were listening yet Jimin’s eyes were not on her patient, but on the intern, the one who she was a boss to in the workplace. 

“In for a beating heart quadruple C.A.B.G.” She finished explaining as they all stood around the older woman who lay in the hospital bed. 

“On Valentine’s Day.” Mark chuckled, it was enough to make all heads turn to the male intern who got nudged by Taeyong at the comment he made. “Sorry.” He apologised, and Sakura sighed as she was responsible for the interns. There was one thing for sure, this was the best yet the most difficult batch to keep in check as they were all talented interns with passions and a thing for doing things their way at times. 

Not to mention with a thing for other forbidden things too.

Jimin cleared her throat, and her stare fell back on Y/n who tried to avoid it, but it didn’t seem to work. The–technically–heart doctor had other plans. 

“Why keep the heart beating doctor Y/l/n?” In the end, the girl was the most talented intern out of all. 

Y/n forced a smile towards the older woman, hands in the pockets of her lab coat to avoid any more nudges from her friends. The two girls on each side of her looked at Y/n, eyes subtly glancing between the two. This time Y/n met eyes with the doctor who gave a small nod for the girl to talk. 

“Scar tissue is too deep–” The girl started, glancing at the older woman in the bed. Y/n knew very well why Jimin asked her. Whoever answered got to be on the case and Y/n knew that she couldn’t say no even if the rest knew the answer too. It would make her look bad and Jimin too if she lied and said that she didn’t know. It was a prestigious hospital. The last thing anyone wanted to hear was a doctor or intern saying that they didn’t know something. Of course, she would trap her just to talk because Y/n was good at avoiding someone if she wanted to. “The heart is too weak to start up again, so you only immobilise the portion you’re working on and you leave the rest of the heart on its own.” 

“Welcome to the case, Y/l/n.” Was all that Jimin said as she closed the thick patient file, making Y/n purse her lips as it got extended over the bed and with no other choice she took it. 

[A few hours earlier]

“Why are you still angry?” Jimin asked, trying her best to understand why the girl in the passenger seat was still pissed. She knew Y/n, and she knew how she acted when she was angry. The intern would ignore her, give her the cold shoulder, and if it got too much she would speak up because she always had something to say so giving her the cold shoulder was difficult. 

“What do you expect me to be, Jimin?” Y/n at last spoke up, looking out the window as they were driving through the early morning of Seoul. It was cold, but in February it gradually started to get better and the snow wasn’t present anymore. That didn’t mean that the mornings weren’t even more difficult because the last thing anyone wanted was to get up at 5:30 am, to get out of a warm bed and get out into the cold.

That was probably the worst part of the day, usually–Y/n was quite sure that the whole day was ruined for her because of Jimin. They never fought, it always worked out with small bickering here and there, but this was where Y/n drew the line at what was acceptable. It was enough that they were keeping their relationship secret–aside from Y/n’s friends knowing–a doctor dating an intern who worked under her would not look good for either of them. The last thing they needed to be accused of was favouritism or anything along those lines. 

The only reason why Y/n got picked so often was because of how skilful she was, not because Jimin and she were dating.  

“Not this angry?” Jimin unsurely questioned, her eyes glancing between Y/n and the road as they were in her car. The younger had spent the night with her at her apartment since Y/n lived with roommates–Yunjin and Minjeong–the doctor also lived closer to the hospital. All she wanted to do was turn back time to the morning when her alarm clock went off and prevent the fight from happening when they were still lying under the covers naked after the previous night.  

Jimin wasn’t the biggest romantic, matter fact she was terrible at extraordinary romantic gestures. Valentine’s Day had just started and she had already managed to mess up.  

She scratched at the back of her head, trying to figure out what she could even do if they both worked a 24-hour shift all while Y/n was talking. The doctor was listening though, she knew how to think and listen at the same time. 

“We’ve been together for almost five months and you’re still texting with your ex?”

Jimin knew she messed up, but it wasn’t for the reasons that Y/n thought that she messed up. She didn’t have any time to defend herself because there was more than just texting. 

“Not to mention, you never mentioned that your ex is working in the department next to ours.”

It all just started to pile up more and more and Jimin had a hard time gathering her words as she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She never thought that it would matter since it was her ex, but maybe she hadn’t thought far enough. Far enough to think that it would ever come up somehow. Now it had and she realised that she had dug her own grave.

She had to explain why she was texting her ex all while trying to figure out what she could do for Y/n on Valentine’s Day. 

“What does it matter if I am with you and love you?” Was the best she could say because the intern in the car with her had stolen her heart. It was as if Y/n had laid her down on that operating table, cut her open and taken her heart out while Jimin was under anaesthesia because she had no clue when it even happened. 

“What does it matter? It matters if you’re still hung up on her.” 

The car came to a stop as she parked in her spot outside the biggest hospital in Seoul. The doctor turned in her seat and looked at the younger girl. Y/n looked right back at Jimin who looked at her in disbelief, but at the same time, she did her best to understand why Y/n would think that. She knew that she wouldn’t be too fond of Y/n texting with her ex. 

“I am not.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at that and unbuckled the belt. “Then why is she in your contacts?” She questioned, grabbing her things before opening the door. Jimin quickly tried her best to hurry up and get out of her seatbelt while trying to stop the girl from walking out on her this angry. 

“Y/n you’re–” Jimin groaned as the belt had to get jammed as she continued to pull on it. 

A cold wave brushed along her skin and hit her even harder when the door to her car slammed closed and she gave up on trying to undo her belt. The woman heaved a sigh and leaned back in the seat, watching her girlfriend walk ahead and meet in the middle with the batch of interns she was close with. 

It would be a long 24-hour shift.

[Present]

Jimin did her best to focus on the elderly woman whose heart she would be operating while Y/n was in the room with her. Her eyes kept glancing between the stethoscope she was using on Mrs Lee’s back and Y/n who was moving around and organising the rest of the stuff. All while informing the woman of how extensive the operation would be, making sure she knew the risks. 

She was wondering why she was never informed of the risks of falling for an intern like Y/n. 

The girl was too much for her poor heart.

“We’ll get you to the O.R. this afternoon,” Jimin concluded, removing the stethoscope and helping the woman lean back down before putting it around her shoulder. She could feel Y/n’s presence right behind her, looking over her shoulder. “You do understand the risks?” She asked to make sure, her eyes looking between Mrs Lee and her husband who sat in the chair in the corner of the room. It made her wonder how they felt on a day like this because she was feeling quite forlorn at the moment. 

Y/n was stubborn. 

“I’ll check back later,” Jimin informed Mrs Lee after getting the answer she needed. The doctor did not have time to grab the patient file when Y/n already had it. With one last polite smile, she quickly caught up to the intern who had just stepped out of the room. 

“Y/n, can we talk?” She questioned, her hand gently wrapping around the girl’s forearm as she stopped her and pulled her to the side right outside the room. It was hard to talk in the crowded area as they were constantly passed by nurses, interns, and doctors. Gossip spread like butter on a toast in the hospital. 

“If it’s about the patient, then go ahead Doctor Yu.”  

Now the last name came to play and so Jimin knew that it would take a lot more to get Y/n to listen to her. Or maybe the best thing to do was to let her blow off steam as it had only been a few hours since she snapped in the car. 

“Take her for a thallium scan and pick up her x-rays on the way.”

However, she just wanted to try and get a word in, to test the waters and see if Y/n was willing to forgive her for this. Her grip stayed when Y/n was about to walk. The girl who was just an inch taller stopped and the two looked at each other. Y/n’s features were soft yet they could come off sharp, especially her eyes and Jimin always got lost in her. It was enough to let her know that she had no room for mistakes. There were hearts at stake here, but she was quite sure that this wouldn’t cause any hearts to break.

Love was somehow more difficult than any open-heart operation she had ever performed.  

The noise of the hospital was almost deafening as so much was going on around them yet there was still that calm and silence among them because it was a hospital. The white almost blinding interior with the faint sound of machines smelled of antiseptic and it was a scent that brought comfort to the both of them because of how much time they spent at work. It was almost as comforting as listening to the beating of each other’s hearts and dwelling in the scent of one another, but even that scent would mix with the hospitals after being in it for hours. 

“She and I texted–” 

It was as if the only thing on her side today was despair and luck had thrown itself out the window on the highest floor in the hospital and splattered into a puddle with no one there to save it. Was there something she could do right today? It was enough that she sucked at romantic gestures yet still wanted to do something for Y/n, but when she wanted to try the world was opposing the idea. 

“Doctor Yu, intern Y/l/n—” Y/n looked away from Jimin whose grip slipped away from her arm and at the woman whom she couldn’t be mad at because Jimin was the one who wasn’t supposed to be texting her. She couldn’t be angry at the doctor who approached them. The intern smiled at her, politely bowing her head while Jimin kept her crumbling composure as she looked at her ex. 

“Can I borrow Doctor Yu for a second?” The woman questioned. Jimin looked between Y/n and the paediatrician from the department next to theirs. All she got from Y/n was a smile, her eyes sparkling in the fluorescent yet dull light of the hospital. 

“She’s all yours, Doctor Yizhuo.” 

And so Y/n left Jimin once again who watched the girl disappear after taking a turn, her eyes falling onto the woman in front of her. 

“Repairing hearts on Valentine’s Day when you should start with your own.” 

“Please shut up.” Y/n politely said as she sat down at the round table in the staff canteen, placing the tray with food down. Minjeong sucked air through her teeth as Yunjin chuckled. Despite being on Jimin’s case Y/n had been taking care of Mrs Lee alone and only talked to the doctor when it was needed, strictly work-related as she tried to give her the cold shoulder. 

It was lunch break at last and soon she would be in the operating room, doing an open heart surgery by Jimin’s side. The head of cardiothoracic surgery. She knew that the doctor had something to say, but she first needed to phantom the fact that she had been with Jimin for almost five months and suddenly she was texting her ex. Why would she never tell her that her ex was a woman she met every day and at times worked with together? 

“Why are you avoiding Doctor Heart Snatcher?” She rolled her eyes at Yunjin’s words–nickname coming from her field and looks– the two guys looked at them as everyone wanted an answer as to why Y/n was avoiding Jimin. Not only that but why the heart doctor’s lingering gaze lingered more than usual. It was almost filled with longing despite the two being in the same room. It was difficult to look at for them.

“She’s texting with her ex,” Y/n grumbled, using the chopsticks to play around with the food on her tray as she could barely eat from the bitterness that covered her heart. It was causing her heart to twist at the sour bitterness that got caused by being away from each other. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to mend it by simply going to the person who was an expert when it came to hearts. In a few hours, she had to be in the O.R. and would be stuck in that room with Jimin for six hours if not more. 

“What?” Mark was the one to exclaim first, pushing his tray forward and resting his elbows on the table to lean closer to the girl who sat opposite him. 

“Are you serious?” Yunjin asked next, looking at Y/n with her head tilted. 

“Yes she still has her ex in her contacts and…” Y/n trailed off, still baffled by the fact that she had even worked with Jimin’s ex without knowing it. It wasn’t like she would let it get in the way because she was professional at work, but she would have felt less of a fool if she had known. It was almost embarrassing to admit.

“And?” Taeyong asked.

“She works here,” her voice withered as she said it in a whisper. Minjeong offered her comfort by patting her thigh before going back to eat her food. “Told you it was a bad idea to date Doctor Heart Snatcher.” She mumbled and Y/n dismissed her as she grabbed the water bottle, unscrewing it. The vixen frowned. This wasn’t enough to make her doubt Jimin was it? Has it been a bad idea to date her?

“If she knows how to fix a heart she surely knows how to break it too,” Mark commented.

“She hasn’t broken my heart–” Y/n cleared the air as they made it sound like they were going through a break-up when all she was doing was taking some time to process it. “I’m just pissed she didn’t tell me and that she is texting her for whatever reason.” The longer that she thought about it the better it would be to hear the reason why. Maybe she had been a bit too impulsive with her accusations and should have listened to Jimin first. At the same time, she was too stubborn to let her ego down and ask after avoiding listening to her in the first place. 

“Who is it though?” Taeyong questioned and Y/n subtly glanced around. The canteen was busy with staff members who had their breaks, everyone eating together and chatting. Natural light was cast through the big windows and this was one of the few places that wasn’t as dull because of the eye-hurting fluorescent lights. It was always busy, but not with people running because their pagers went off or pushing patients through the halls. Shoes didn’t squeak as loud because it all got muffled by the people who were talking. 

The scent of antiseptics wasn’t present either and that was what stole comfort from this place for Y/n. 

“I’m not telling.” She knew that it wasn’t her place to reveal her girlfriend’s past and private relationships to anyone even if they were her friends. It was enough that they knew about their relationship even if they had been hiding it for the first few months until Yunjin walked in on them about to remove each other’s clothes after forgetting to lock the on-call room. Luckily enough it was Yunjin and not someone else who could get them in trouble–such as any envious workers or Jimin’s boss who did not tolerate doctors dating first-year interns. 

“I bet it’s that nurse Aeri, they’re so close.” Yunjin started to guess as Y/n ignored what they were saying, trying to eat some of the food to be able to stand in the O.R. for six hours. 

“Why would she be close with her ex?” 

“Well, she’s texting her so they’re still close.”

“Texting and talking face to face is different.” 

“Not when it’s your ex.”

“What if it’s Doctor Miyawaki?” 

“That would be even worse.”

“Do you guys not have your own private lives to worry about? As far as I remember neither of you have any plans for Valentine’s Day and that’s why you all took the 24-hour shift.” The intern finally came back into the conversation that died down right after she finished her words. 

“I’d say something, but Doctor Heart Snatcher is on her way here.” Y/n looked up from her tray and looked to her right where Yunjin was and looking past the girl she spotted Jimin. No matter how pissed she was, there was no room in her to deny how attractive her Heart Snatcher actually was in her navy blue scrubs, white lab coat, her black hair up in a ponytail, and her eyes always on Y/n.

This was the same woman who she would stand with for six hours in the O.R. and both of them loved their job enough to not get distracted by each other. It was yet another thing Y/n loved about Jimin, the fact that she managed to learn so much from her and how work and relationship-oriented she was and made it work out with this demanding job.

She made it so much harder to avoid her and before Y/n knew it the woman was by their table, hands in the pockets of her white coat, the nameplate pinned right over her right breast by the small pocket with a blue ballpoint pen. 

“Y/l/n could we talk for a second?” Jimin asked, clearing her throat as their eyes were on her as she stood by the edge of the table where Yunjin was. Her eyes scanned over no one else but Y/n who opened her mouth, making the doctor wait in anticipation. The intern was only in her scrubs now, her hair clipped back with her wispy bangs gently falling over her face. Jimin didn’t even want to look at anyone else. 

“Oh–” Y/n let out surprised, pushing her tray forward and planting her hands against the table. “Oh, that’s my pager, I’m sorry Doctor Yu, I have to prioritise the patients.” The intern excused, pushing herself up from the chair as she bowed at her boss to be polite. Jimin felt even more confused and she watched the girl walk away with a slight job, still sure that she did not hear her pager go off at all. It was somewhat humiliating, but she probably deserved it. She heaved a sigh and looked down at the rest to see Minjeong suppress the snicker with a cough. 

“Was I the only one who didn’t hear her pager go off?” She questioned them as she removed her one hand from the pocket and rubbed the back of her neck, she looked where Y/n was to see the girl walk out of the canteen. 

“Nope, I 100% heard it…” Yunjin said, looking up at the doctor. 

“Yeah, it went off,” Minjeong confirmed and Jimin looked back down at them with her lips pursed. 

“Kind of loud in here so you probably didn’t catch it,” Mark added. 

“Exactly.” And Taeyong finished. 

She knew that she had run off because she felt stupid for not listening to Jimin the first time she tried to explain it. It was one of the causes and now more doubt had grown in her from hearing her coworkers talk about it. The perspective only got worse as she walked to the changing room that they all shared. It was empty and her pager never went off. She not only was texting, but talking, however, they worked together at times so they obviously would talk face to face. 

Y/n knew that she had no reason to be insecure. 

With a sigh, she opened her locker and stopped from reaching for her phone when the little pink sticky note caught her eye as it was stuck right to the locker door on the inside. She had no lock on her locker, no one did since everyone knew each other well enough to know that no one would steal anything. It was the first time she had any notes stuck on the inside of her door though. 

The girl licked her lips and took it down to read what the blue letters said.

Our hearts are a muscular pump, that’s why exercise is so good, but just one look at you and mine gets the exercise it needs. 

She didn’t know what to think, but the thought of it being Jimin to leave it there made her suppress a smile. Y/n couldn’t be sure though because the woman never said things like these and she might as well be smiling over a note that someone else left because there were a few other interns interested in the girl. Jimin wasn’t romantic, she had her ways of showing love, but they never came this way. The intern folded it and stuffed it into her jacket’s pocket so she could ask her girlfriend if she was the one behind it. 

Y/n didn’t expect a next time, but the next time she did stumble upon a note was when she went back to Mrs Lee to take her vitals and she opened the patient files. Soon enough she had the open heart operation she would get to watch Jimin perform as she would help. It did let her narrow it down to who it could be but she was doubting that the male nurse was leaving the notes since he wasn’t supposed to be in the intern's locker room and neither was Jimin, but still. 

She bit her lower lip and glanced up from the file at the woman with her husband, red roses standing by her bed with a card. Y/n had never been big on these things, but she realised that maybe she was if just a note made her feel a bit giddier because of Jimin than she usually got. The words were so cheesy, but somehow that made it even better. 

The reason why my heart receives blood that is low on oxygen is because you always steal my breath.

It was melting the facade Y/n had tried to keep the whole day just to show how pissed she was, but Jimin made it impossible. It was impossible to stay mad at her girlfriend because with each second that passed in the operating room, Y/n realised how good of a girlfriend Jimin was. 

The intern stayed focused on the task at hand just like everyone else did. Somewhere between those blurry lines between focus and daydreaming, she found herself staring at the beating heart. 

She knew that love wasn’t connected to the heart, all emotions were regulated in the brain. However, the only thing she realised whenever she was in a room with Jimin was the way the doctor made her heart beat faster. It was the sole reason why love was associated with the heart. The heart spoke for love and no one listened to their head when it came to love. Despite the brain regulating these emotions, it was the heart that let her know that it was Jimin who hit the bell and made her heart ring. 

The only time she did notice her heartbeat was with Jimin because she made it pick up its pace. 

The heart they were operating was right in the open and partially numb but beating and somewhere along those lines was how they made each other feel. They numbed everything around them, leaving their hearts right in the open for the other to reach for it and nestle inside of it. 

“Mrs Lee is doing well.” The doctor commented, making Y/n lean in slightly closer to Jimin to get a better look at the beating muscle as they stood shoulder to shoulder with each other. The intern was taking care of the suction and the operation was coming to an end, making the rest strike up small conversations.

“Did you know that the heart can beat even when it’s disconnected from the body?” Jimin mumbled, making Y/n subtly glance at her for a split second before looking right back down. Y/n knowingly hummed at the words, wondering what Jimin was trying to reach since these were random facts and nothing new she was learning. 

“That’s why mine is still beating.”

“What?” The vixen questioned, her eyebrows furrowing at the words that confused her. 

“It’s in your hands.” 

Y/n widened her eyes at the bold words Jimin said out loud and only confirmed that she was the culprit behind the notes. It was bold, not because she said them, but because she said those words while everyone stood in the theatre above and could hear them talking. Was this some kind of statement? Was she trying to prove something? Maybe Y/n was reading too much into it, but Jimin barely referred to her as Y/n when someone else was around just to not get caught. 

“Doctor–” The girl tried, unsure of where Jimin was heading with this because if this was a statement Y/n was getting flustered. Suddenly she felt worried that Jimin’s boss was possibly up there watching them and was hearing this. It would get them both in trouble. However, she did not get to stop her because the doctor had other plans. 

“There are four chambers in the heart, each holds about 70 ml of blood–although each one of mine is filled with you.” Y/n’s eyes glanced at Jimin again, but quickly went back down to the heart that was beating steadily compared to the wild horses in her chest. The doctor looked mostly unaffected but that wasn’t weird since she was supposed to be composed under pressure. Y/n knew how to take pressure without letting her knees buckle, but Jimin truly made hers weak in a way no one else did. 

The words were so cheesy and it only made it worse, especially if everyone else was hearing them. 

It burned her ears and she wanted to hide.

Y/n barely had time to register that the operation was successful and had ended by the thoughts racing in her head. However, Jimin stepped back, holding out her hands as they pulled off the thick gloves she had been using to operate. There was no time to ask questions now as everyone was praising the other, saying ‘good job’ because it was a team effort in the end. The vixen removed her single-use gloves and threw them in the trash as she undid her mask and took it off after walking towards the exit. 

Finally, Jimin’s eyes met her, those brown eyes were so much more intense now and Y/n wanted to hear every little thought that was behind them, especially the reason behind this. The two of them walked out of the room where they just had to stitch the woman up. 

“What was all that about?” She questioned in genuine confusion, unsure if her tone was harsh or just confused. Her hand reached for the surgical cap and she removed it while the older woman was already washing her hands in the big sink as they were the only ones in the scrub room. Jimin only hummed back with just as much confusion, and now it was coming off as a confusing game to Y/n. Was the doctor messing with her? Or was all this genuine? 

Jimin wasn’t cruel to mess with her this way. 

“Why were you saying all that in front of everyone?”

“You didn’t like what I said?” Jimin confusedly asked and looked to the side where Y/n stood and washed her hands. Her eyes lingered on the girl who was staring down at the water that was running down the drain. The question made her look up though and she shook her head with a frown as it wasn’t what she meant. 

“That’s not– that’s not what I meant.” She didn’t have the cheesy lines in mind, but the fact that they were said in front of everyone else. In the next hour, it would be known around the whole hospital that there was something between them. Gossip was always working its 24/7 shift at the place without any breaks. 

“Then it doesn’t matter.” She concluded, turning off the faucet and flicking her fingers to rid of the excess water before reaching for the paper towels in the soundless room.

It truly felt like some little game to Y/n now. Was Jimin fooling around now? If so Y/n wanted her to admit to it now. 

“What doesn’t matter?”

The intern turned off her faucet, grabbing the paper towels she got handed by the doctor who removed her surgical cap. She shrugged at Y/n’s question and reached over to the girl who almost flinched away at the intimate touch when Jimin brushed a hair strand away from her face. It wasn’t intimate on that level, but it was when the door from the operating room opened and the rest were starting to walk inside. 

“If everyone heard it. If you liked it then it doesn’t matter.” She gave Y/n a small smile, hand dropping down and giving the younger’s shoulder a light squeeze before she passed her. Y/n turned on her heels, following out right after her though. The area was empty as people only walked by occasionally and at the corner of her eye she could see Minjeong and Yunjin waiting at the top of the stairs, trying to stay out of sight to listen in on the two. Doing a poor job at staying subtle at all because even Jimin glanced at them. 

“Jimin–hold on, you can’t just walk away without finishing this.” This time Y/n was the one to grab the woman’s hand that was warm to the touch and Jimin grabbed hold of the girl’s hand. She squeezed her before letting go as she turned to look at Y/n. There was something about the soft smile on her lips, but it wasn’t enough for Y/n to figure it out. She needed more, but she wasn’t getting more. 

“Sorry, I have to get going, I have something important to do.”

“What is more important than our relationship right now?” Y/n seriously questioned only to not get an answer as the doctor walked away without another word. There was no way the intern was going to chase after the doctor who seemed in a rush. 

Was she getting back at her?

Was this really how her Valentine’s Day would look like? Despite the anger she had felt before, she was longing for Jimin. 

She looked towards the stairs to see Yunjin and Minjeong quickly walking down them and it made Y/n start walking away from them. It wasn’t a second before they caught up to her, hooking their arms with hers to make her walk with them. 

“There are four chambers in my heart–” Yunjin started with a sigh, leaning into the intern. “Each filled with you.” Minjeong finished with another sigh. 

“Who was up there?” Y/n questioned instead, ignoring the teasing and how they repeated the words that had come from Jimin. 

“Honestly, Doctor Kim was there, and a bunch of interns.” Doctor Kim who specialised in neurology was another Doctor whom they worked with just like they did with Jimin. It made Y/n suck air through her teeth as she knew how much stricter Kim Chaewon was compared to Jimin. 

“What if she tells the Chief?” Y/n knew about the two competing surgeons as both wanted to be the next chief of surgery. This could ruin Jimin’s chances and Y/n was now drowning in worry and a twinge of anger at how careless the heart doctor was. 

“Then you will most likely get in trouble.” Yunjin deadpanned, receiving a look from Y/n and Minjeong at how much worse it made everything. The girl was already aware of how they could get in trouble. They had been secretive about it for a reason. It wasn’t like it was forbidden, but the chief of surgery would deem it unprofessional and have his doubts about giving the position to Jimin next. 

“I just need a snack and then I am taking a nap.” Y/n declared as she slipped her arms out of the two girl’s hold and stopped at the vending machine. The two leaned on each side of the vending machine, keeping the conversation going as they looked at Y/n who looked like she was in a huge dilemma. 

The vixen was worried about what could happen now. She knew Doctor Kim could bite just for it to sting and hurt because she would do everything to become the next chief. She could be cruel. 

Did that mean she would have to break up with Jimin? Or Jimin with her. For the security of her spot as the next chief. 

“Oh, Doctor Heart Snatcher has you in the mood for a snack?” Yunjin teased to lighten the mood she by accident had made worse. Y/n glanced at the redhead who shot her eyebrows up in a suggestive manner as she looked her up and down while doing so. All it took was for the intern to walk in on them making out once and all hell let loose because she made Y/n look like a sex addict–which she was not, if anything she blamed Jimin. 

Minjeong seemed to get a different memo by the words as she leaned closer to Y/n with her shoulder holding her up against the vending machine as Y/n crouched down to get her stuff. 

“Are you pregnant?” She asked in a whisper and Y/n glanced up at her in silence while getting the bun from the slot. 

“That is not what she meant by that, Minjeong.” 

It left the girl thinking for a bit as Y/n stood up, now the two taller girls stood and watched Minjeong piece it together. “Oh…Oh! Oh, that kind of snack.” She exclaimed, realising that it held a dirty meaning and not pregnancy cravings. 

“Yeah, but the snack that I mean is a bun and then sleep since Doctor Yu seemingly is ignoring me now after ruining our future together,” Y/n explained as she showed the pack she had picked up before walking away from the two to head to the lockers and get her phone before heading to the on-call room. 

“Already thinking about a future together.” Yunjin snorted as she pushed herself up to use the vending machine. 

“You’re just jealous no one asked you out for Valentine’s Day.” 

“We’re in the same shoes.” 

“Speak for yourself, I’m not on the 24-hour shift, matter fact I am heading out right now because I have dinner plans.” Minjeong smugly said as she started to walk away.

“Dinner with your mum does not count.” 

“Shut up, at least I got asked for dinner by someone.”

Y/n grumbled under her breath, the pack with the bun between her teeth as she was busy with her phone while walking. The walk to the locker and then to the on-call room took an extra ten minutes because she had to speak to Mrs Lee's husband and tell him about her procedure. Jimin would usually do so, but she had disappeared into thin air and left it for Y/n to handle.

The text was for Jimin, hoping she had her phone on her to answer because Y/n knew she was on a break after the 12-hour shift they had worked. All they were to do now was be on call while resting and they would be called in during the next 12 hours. Y/n knew that soon enough her break would be over, she gave it an hour, a chance of a bit more. She needed more because she needed to talk to Jimin. 

She opened the door and was just about to send the text, but was stopped by the voice. 

“Finally, Doctor Y/l/n.” The voice startled Y/n who looked up, quickly catching the bun that fell from between her lips. 

“Jimin,” Y/n exclaimed somewhere between annoyed and still startled by the unexpected guest yet one she had hoped for. She turned off her phone and stepped inside fully as she closed and locked the door after her. Her eyes landed on the doctor who was in only her scrubs now, her hair down as she sat at the edge of the twin-sized bed. 

“Come here.” She gestured, holding her hand out and Y/n raised her eyebrows. She hesitated, especially after what had happened between them a good 30 minutes ago. Jimin gave her a nod of reassurance and motioned with her fingers for Y/n to walk over to her. It was all it took for Y/n to push herself up from the door, placing her stuff down on the table on the way before taking hold of Jimin’s hand. 

The woman pulled Y/n over to her and pulled her until she had the girl in her lap, straddling her. “Are you going to say something cheesy and run off again?” Jimin chuckled, looking up at Y/n, her one hand caressed along the girl's thigh while the other reached up to her. She reached her hand over to the back of Y/n’s hair and took out the hair clamp, letting her hair fall loosely over her shoulders while putting the clamp aside.

“Do you want me to say something cheesy again?” She questioned, her hand ran to Y/n’s hip as she pulled the girl even closer to her, making the latter grab hold of her shoulder. 

“Yeah, but I’d like to know what you were thinking and about what happened this morning. Some cheesy lines won’t make me forget.” It made the doctor hum, her hands gently roamed Y/n’s body, caressing and slowly finding their way under the shirt she had on to touch her waist. Their eye contact didn’t falter for a second and it was then and there that they both realised their heartbeat that had picked up. 

This was love, the brain may have registered it, but the heart felt it. 

“Okay, I had to talk to the chief about something and do something else too…” Jimin trailed off, her eyes shifted away from Y/n’s this time. It made Y/n frown as she tilted her head, waiting for the woman to continue. She sighed and dropped her hands, fingers carefully playing with the material of Y/n’s scrubs as she licked her lips before she continued with her eyes back on Y/n’s. 

“I talked to the chief about—well, about us because it’s been almost five months and I thought it would only be fair for you and me if I talked to him about it instead of assuming that he would be truly against it.” 

“What?” Y/n asked, her eyes sporting a look of even more confusion and worry. There were only two possible ways for this to end and she only wanted one of them, but it felt like the one she didn’t want had a stronger chance of being true. 

“Wait, don’t worry…He was just a bit disappointed that I am in a relationship with a first-year intern, but somewhere along the lines he understood that it doesn’t interrupt our professionalism.” 

“So, it’s fine?” Y/n asked to clarify, feeling the weight untie itself from around her heart as she caressed Jimin’s warm neck. Her fingers gently traced her skin, feeling the faint goosebumps and shivers that came from the older one. Jimin held onto Y/n’s forearms as Y/n intertwined her fingers behind the doctor's neck who nodded.

The girl had been right, Jimin was trying to make a statement even if it was reckless since she did it before talking to the chief. 

“I hope you can listen to me now without slamming a door closed in my face.” The intern rolled her eyes at the words as she hadn’t given Jimin a chance to speak earlier. It seemed like the perfect opportunity had been created because they were both still dwelling on the fact that their relationship didn’t have to be a secret. “No interrupting either.” Y/n nodded, giving in as Jimin’s thumbs softly caressed the skin of her forearms. 

“I don’t even have small remnants of feelings left for her as it never was serious and that was why it ended. It’s always work-related because if you had taken your time to check you would see that she was asking for my work number because of an upcoming operation and while at it she only asked how everything was going in my department and it ended after I replied.”

Feeling stupid was an understatement. 

It made Y/n clear her throat and glance away, Jimin trying to find the girl’s pretty eyes because she always liked having eye contact with Y/n. The girl kept avoiding eye contact and it drove Jimin to reach for her jaw and make her look at her. 

“See, baby, it wasn’t as serious as you thought it was, but maybe if you had listened to me you would have spared yourself some nerves.” There was that tone that made Y/n’s facade crumble and melt right into Jimin. 

“Okay…Maybe I did react a bit quick, but you don’t expect your girlfriend to text with their ex and so it just came with a shock with no time to think.” Y/n tried to explain, doing her best not to melt into a puddle right away and hold herself a bit longer even if the ice was melting because of the warmth of Jimin.

“And I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner.” It made Y/n lean in, Jimin moving her hands to hold the girl's waist. Their lips met after a long day of itching to ease the loss of not being against each other. It was a simple kiss, coated in honey as Jimin held onto the girl’s waist.

“I forgive you,” Y/n mumbled and tried to kiss her again, but was stopped as the doctor turned her body and Y/n watched her reach over by the pillow. She chuckled at what she had missed when she got dragged into Jimin’s lap and the doctor turned back around. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Jimin knew that it wasn’t much, yet the smile on Y/n’s plump lips let her know that it was more than enough when she accepted the brown fuzzy bear that was hugging a rose. The girl took it with both hands as she looked at the bear. Considering how busy they were, she knew that even getting a hold of a teddy bear was a great task and it only meant so much more to the girl. 

“I also have another line for you.”

“Yeah?” Y/n questioned and Jimin nodded.

“There are three layers of the heart wall, you have broken down each of them and gotten to the middle in a way no one else ever has–” This time the words were deeper, they weren’t just some cheesy pickup line, but a confession that was growing deeper than love. It let Y/n know that Jimin loved her but did more than just love her, she trusted her as she had opened her heart to her. It wasn’t easy, especially because of how they barely had lives outside the hospital, but yet here they were, making it work. 

“You seriously have, doll.” 

“I love you so much.” Y/n groaned and wrapped her arms around Jimin’s shoulders before attaching their lips again. This time the kiss picked up gradually when their lips parted and their tongues met in warmth and slickness. The doctor pushed her tongue against Y/n’s, pressing and tilting her head to get closer. 

With ease, she manoeuvred them around and laid Y/n down on the bed who dropped the bear right beside her head as Jimin got between her legs. Their breathing grew deeper in the small on-call room, slowly heating it as the small ventilation wasn’t enough to cool the heat their bodies produced when they were with each other. Especially when they were so close. 

“I love you.” She barely managed to breathe out between their desperate breaths as she bunched up the pillow case in her fists. Y/n hummed, catching Jimin’s lips again, her legs wrapped around the woman’s waist, pulling her closer, close enough to feel her cock slowly growing hard against her heat. It was enough to make her groan and push closer into Y/n, her hips started to gyrate to get the much-needed friction that they both craved. 

“Fuck, Y/n—” She breathed out, the girl under her tugged onto the scrubs so she would remove them. The moment of passion only grew a fire that got bigger with each passing second of the shared intimacy. That moment when their hearts beat in sync and yearn for the other so much that it’s hard to hold back. “You want my cock, don’t you…My good girl, my good slut wants my cock.” She breathed out, lips dragging over the intern's skin as she kissed down her jaw.

It did not matter, Jimin always did a 180 in the bed and wasn’t just that sweet heart doctor, but someone who made Y/n’s thighs tremble and beg for more with some sweetness to her. 

“So bad, I want to be filled by you.” 

“I will fill you, fill you with my cock and ‘dump all my cum inside you. You like that don’t you?” 

Her kisses trailed lower to Y/n’s neck, the kisses wet and tender, her teeth dragged along and she wrapped her lips around the thin skin. She could feel Y/n’s heavy pulse on her tongue as she gently sucked with her hard dick fully pressed against Y/n’s cunt. The girl under her pushed more into her, being able to feel the prominent bulge of Jimin’s cock right against her throbbing heat.

“I love it, I love every inch of you inside me and on me.” Y/n breathed out beside her ear, hands pulling Jimin’s navy blue shirt up along her back. She pulled away, sitting on her knees to take them off together with the one she had under, throwing them on the side of the bed. The younger sat up, the doctor not waiting as she grabbed the hem of Y/n’s light blue shirt and let it mix in with hers on the side. 

Her hand reached into Y/n’s hair from behind and she gripped it, pulling the girl back to meet her eyes. The grip stung, Jimin pulling on Y/n’s silky strands of hair like she always liked to do and Y/n enjoyed. Her eyes landed on those glossy with passion and love eyes, she trailed down to her wet lips and she leaned back in, wanting Y/n’s tongue against hers.

The vixen kissed back, Jimin’s figure towered over her and her hand cupped her girlfriend through the blue scrubs where her cock was straining. It made the latter huff through her nose and close her eyes tighter while pushing her tongue against Y/n’s. The scalding cock was fully erect, making Y/n tug down on the pants to the second layer that were the boxer briefs.

“Touch it, touch every inch you want inside your slutty little pussy, Y/n, it’s all for you.” Her words were clouded, deep with the moment as Y/n’s fingers ghosted over the outline until she reached the tip that was leaking right through the grey boxers, leaving them stained with pre-cum. Y/n’s lips were left parted, panting against Jimin’s as they moved before she swallowed her whole again. She palmed the hard cock, feeling each inch that would be inside her.

Jimin let go of her hair and reached behind her, doing a quick job at swiftly undoing the bra. Y/n let it fall down her shoulders, and the latter sat back on her heels, eyes falling on the breasts that perfectly fit in her hands as she cupped one of them. The vixen let out a light moan, enough to make Jimin’s dick twitch at the sound. It made her grab Y/n’s petite waist to pull her into her and lean down, her mouth latching onto the plump breast as she held onto the girl who was back in her lap as she sat back.

Y/n pressed down her heat against Jimin’s, hips slowly moving with hands gripping onto the dark hair with the warm tongue coating her chest in saliva. It made Jimin whimper just like Y/n did, her cunt pressing down hard against the throbbing cock under her aching cunt when the doctor grazed her teeth over the hard nipple, gently tugging. 

“You’re my pretty whore, Y/n. Just mine.” If there was one thing she liked to do it was to remind Y/n of who exactly she belonged to. Her lips wrapped around the soft and warm flesh, sucking on it to leave her marks. It made Y/n moan, nails digging into Jimin’s shoulders and back to her shoulder blades as the girl wanted her closer, chest pressing into the teasing mouth that played with her nipples and marked her breast. 

Jimin hummed, it came from the back of her throat and her grip tightened on Y/n’s waist with fingers digging into her skin as she tried to get her even closer. She loved wrapping her arms around the small waist or having her hands on it, pulling on Y/n like a doll. She helped her grind down against her hard cock, Y/n whimpering right by her ear as her clit pressed right against her tip with each stroke. 

The younger could feel how damp her underwear was, her clit throbbed for Jimin’s touch, wanting nothing more than to be stretched out and have her girlfriend fuck her right into the bed. The wet sounds of Jimin’s mouth latching at her breast occupied the room together with their heavy breaths, the faint buzzing of the ventilation dead. One hand let go of her waist, the other still guiding her to continue grinding against the cock. 

It made Y/n close her eyes when the doctor cupped her breast, her mouth still sucking on her skin. Thumb grazed over her nipple before Jimin moved and groped at her chest, feeling up Y/n’s body because she loved nothing more than exploring every inch before fucking her. It didn’t matter if her cock felt like it would explode. She tugged on the nipples, gently nipping and twisting, it was enough to make Y/n squirm and whine, unsure if she wanted more or if it was too much. 

“Jimin–” She breathed out, the latter trailed her hand down from her waist and harshly groped at her ass. All she got in return was a grainy hum, too busy with the small chest that she enjoyed playing with so much. “I need your cock.” Y/n pleaded as it wasn’t a want anymore, but a need. Her walls were clenching, waiting for that familiar stretch that would fill her to the brim and her grinding only got sloppier and harsher from how desperate she grew for her. 

It was only then that she pulled away from Y/n’s chest, her lips swollen and wet. Her eyes fell on Y/n’s, seeing all the need in them, she could feel it from the way the girl was pressing against her, thighs squeezing, but nothing was happening. Y/n heaved at the intensity, Jimin’s hand coming right up to her throat as she grabbed hold of her and pulled her closer. 

She could feel the thudding pulse under her fingertips, her parted lips brushed against Y/n’s parted ones. It made her lean back when the vixen tried to kiss her, it tugged at the corner of her lips at how much she needed her. To see Y/n need her this much turned her on further and her cock was aching to push right inside the confines of Y/n’s snug and warm pussy. 

“Are you all wet and ready for me? Will you be able to take everything at once? I can only fuck my whore once she knows she will take everything without complaining.” The husk made Y/n’s skin crawl with warmth, thighs clenching as she was wet enough to take every inch. She didn’t have time to think it through because her lips spoke before her brain thought in these moments of intimacy where all she could think with was her heart that in the end made the best decisions when it came to her love life. 

She was with Jimin in the end.

With a hand still wrapped around her throat, Y/n’s hand reached for the other one that was gently kneading her breast. Jimin smiled as Y/n grabbed her wrist and she let the younger guide her hand. “I get so wet every time you touch me.” Y/n breathed out, guiding the hand past the hem of her scrubs before Jimin slipped it further down with Y/n’s nails dragging along her forearm. 

It made the intern's breath subtly shudder at the fingers that ran over the damp underwear. “My pretty doll, so wet for me.” Her fingers teased, gently rubbing over the material, making Y/n buck her hips and hold back on the desperate whines when she pressed down on her clit. It was aching, throbbing with pain from how badly she needed it. Jimin leaned in, gently kissing the girl’s jaw while she slowly pulled the material of the girl’s underwear aside. 

Her fingers found their way to Y/n’s wet folds, the slick smeared as she ran her fingers through them, only pulling away from her jaw to look at the expressions that Y/n made. The fingers ran through the sensitive and swollen lips, gathering the slick, coming down to circle her leaking hole and greedily taking more to create a bigger mess because Jimin enjoyed making her a mess. All the while Y/n let out faint shaky breaths through her lips, hands gripping harder onto Jimin’s shoulders, hips trying to push into her fingers as she circled her swollen clit, slowly playing with the bud that was so sensitive.

“You sound so pretty for me,” she mumbled, eyes set on Y/n’s face whose eyebrows furrowed and a gasp fell from her plump lips at the speed that increased on her clit. Jimin hummed, the smile not leaving her lips as she ran her fingers down once again, this time two slowly pushed inside the greedily clenching hole. She slipped into the wet tightness of Y/n’s pussy, the girl feeling the slow stretch that was getting closer to satisfying, but she still needed more. 

Her hips moved against the fingers that were knuckles deep inside her, looking for friction on her clit from the pad of Jimin’s palm. A whimper fell from her lips, this time louder than last time when the doctor gave in to the need and pressed her palm against the clit while curling her fingers. That spot that made Y/n squirm was right under her control because she had learned her girlfriend's body to every inch. 

“Are you going to fuck yourself on my fingers? Such a desperate whore that she fucks herself on my hand. Thought you wanted cock to fill your cunt.” She chuckled as Y/n leaned forward, her lips by Jimin’s ear, her hips still moving against the fingers that slowly scissored inside her to stretch her out. 

“I do–I want your cock to fill me.” She breathed out, her words humid against the woman’s ear who left a kiss on her jaw. Jimin could wait, but only so long, and hearing how needy Y/n’s whiny voice was she wasn’t going to wait longer to bury her cock inside the girl. They were playing with time in the end as they could get paged any second. 

There was a loss of contact when the fingers that were deep inside her throbbing pussy pulled out. Y/n pulled back, a docile look in her eyes to plead even more while watching Jimin take the slick-covered fingers between her lips and suck them right in. The taste lingered on her tongue as she licked her fingers clean off of Y/n’s wetness that she loved. Her hand rubbed Y/n’s waist as she did so. 

“Be a good whore and get naked for me, doll.” Her tone was calm yet demanding and Y/n wasn’t one to disobey the older one. She got off of Jimin’s lap and the older watched the girl strip out of her bottoms, her hand running along her length through her boxer briefs. Her cock was throbbing under her palm and her breathing got deeper as she squeezed her length at the sight of Y/n fully naked now. 

With a rushed and harsh grip, she manhandled the girl’s lithe and light figure that she liked the best when she was dressed in her birthday suit. It made Y/n quietly whine at the rough yet arousing treatment as she was pushed onto her knees, forearms resting against the mattress as Jimin got behind her. 

“Such a pretty face and pussy.” The doctor grumbled as she pushed down her boxers and freed her throbbing cock, the pinkish tip leaked with precum, waiting to release everything into the confines of Y/n’s pink pussy. 

The vixen waited in anticipation, her back arched with hands running over her ass, hips and over her spine before going over her waist. The touch was soothing, making her melt at how good it felt to even have Jimin’s skilful hands run over her body. She could make the harshest treatment feel gentle and steady with her hands.

She gripped onto Y/n’s hip, her other hand grabbing at her base and she guided her tip through the wet folds. The feeling made them both shudder as she coated her member in the juices that were leaking, spilling down Y/n’s thighs. As it glistened from the slickness she brought her tip to the girl’s entrance.

“Can I enter you, doll?” Y/n could die right in her spot because Jimin always made sure to ask. 

“Yes…” The girl breathed out, feeling the big tip right by her hole and it made her head drop to the pillow when it at last protruded and slowly sank into her, splitting her folds and slowly buried itself deep inside her.  

Jimin gripped harder onto Y/n’s waist at the tightness around her cock that sucked her in. Her other hand gently pushed down against the arched back as she tilted her head back and dwelled in the feeling with her lower lip between her teeth. 

“You feel so good, your pussy feels so good around my cock.” She mumbled, her chest heaving as she stalled her hips once she was filling her girlfriend to the hilt. 

Y/n twisted the sheets in her fists at the stretch and feeling stuffed, she could feel Jimin’s cock everywhere, feeling it all because she was raw inside her. The way the vein throbbed and how hard she was. It was overwhelming the slight pain from how good it felt. 

Jimin exhaled sharply through her nose, needing time to get ready herself once she entered Y/n’s cunt to not explode right away from the snugness. She ran her palm along Y/n’s spine until she reached her shoulder and gripped it, holding onto it and her waist before she slowly dragged her hips back.

“I’m going to fuck you good, my needy whore deserves it.” She mumbled under her breath more to herself but Y/n still heard it clearly, eyes still closed and her head leaned back as she almost pulled out fully. 

Y/n gasped, writhing under Jimin’s hold when her hips slammed right back inside her, the grip tight on her skin as it was hard enough to leave its marks behind. “Oh, my—fuck.” Y/n choked out as Jimin felt like she had given enough time for both of them to get all ready and her hips started to move, starting slow before she gradually increased the speed of her moving hips. 

The cock dragged along Y/n’s squelching walls, hitting the perfect spots as Jimin angled herself perfectly. The slapping of her pelvis against Y/n’s ass grew in the room, each thrust followed by Y/n’s whines, pleas, cries, and whimpering moans, creating the mess she loved to make the intern. Her cock slid effortlessly in and out, going deep and hard, picking up her pace only to slow down with her eyes trained on the way Y/n’s body arched and pushed into her with her vision going blank now and then from the way her eyes would close at the feeling. 

The wet slapping bounced off the walls, Jimin completely getting lost and not being able to think about if anything could be heard outside the door and neither did she stop Y/n’s squeals when she drilled deep into her. The slapping grew harder and louder, tainting their skin slightly in the process. 

It was burning Y/n’s body, her body moved with each thrust as Jimin went deep and slow before going fast, it was making her mind go blank. The bed squeaked–the on-call rooms used as hook-up rooms for everyone–Y/n was letting out squeaks herself at the pleasure that shot through her with slight pain. It was too much but she didn’t want any less or any more because too much was perfect. 

Jimin clenched her jaw, her body getting covered in heat, a sheen of sweat draping over her skin as she huffed through her nose, guttural groans falling from her now and then. Her eyes fell between their conjoined heat, watching the way her cock appeared and disappeared inside the glistening pussy, coming out covered in slick and getting slammed back inside, making Y/n move forward from the force. 

“Ah, fuck–” Y/n cried out at a particularly hard thrust making Jimin slow down to not hurt the girl as she knew that she got lost in the pleasure easily when it came to Y/n. 

“You’re taking me so well, my little doll to fuck and have squirm under me.” Her hand soothed along Y/n’s waist as her hips rolled deep and slow now. She ran her hand right under and found her way to Y/n’s slim stomach. Jimin pressed down on the girl’s lower belly as she pulled out and slammed right back inside. She could explode just from the way the gesture made Y/n arch her back and let out another high-pitched moan.

The cock kept hitting at her g-spot, feeling Jimin much deeper, knowing exactly where she was because of the hand that pressed against her stomach. The pleasure became tenfold and she was slowly reaching her peak as her ears were muffling everything and she was losing all her coherent thoughts. All she could think about was the cock that was drilling right into her cunt, the way it made her thighs quiver and her vocal cords release any sound they wanted with no control, the way her body was succumbing and losing all touch just for Jimin. 

Jimin had other plans as she let go of Y/n’s shoulder and gripped the silky and long hair for leverage instead. Y/n whined at the pleasurable pain that forced her to arch even more and look up from the pillow where her cheek was pressed. There were tears in her eyes when Jimin finally got to look at the girl she got to look in the mirror that was hung up right above the desk in front of the bed's foot. 

“Look at me when I fuck you–” It was a demand, not a question that harshly left through the doctor’s lips whose hips were snapping against Y/n. “Fuck I want my whore to look me in the eye, I want to look at your pretty eyes when you cum around my cock, doll face.” She groaned, Y/n obeying her as she watched how Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, her face contorting into deep pleasure the second she got to look at Y/n’s face which portrayed how good she felt getting nailed into the bed. It boosted Jimin’s ego, letting her know how good she managed to make her girlfriend feel. 

She wrapped her fist around the hair, getting more leverage, her stomach flexing and hand running from Y/n’s stomach to the girl’s swollen and throbbing clit. Her eyes trained on Y/n’s face whose eyes rolled and fluttered, the sounds spilling out of her lips. The walls tightly squeezed Jimin’s cock, making her groan at the feeling and in return thrust harder to get anywhere because of how tight the girl was getting the closer she was. Her walls clamped down on her cock with each thrust, hips meeting and getting louder. 

“Jimin–Jimin, I’m–” She couldn’t finish the words that were left in a desperate cry. 

The heat in her stomach was tingling with the need to be released, snapping out sooner than later as Y/n’s body tensed up. Her vision went black, ears muffled, barely being able to hear how the train of light and whiny moans escaped her lips. The sight of Y/n coming around her, her pussy spasming around her cock, throbbing around it, her eyes rolling, back arching, it all made Jimin fall right off the peak when she reached it. Her breathing grew harsh as it all came over her too. 

Y/n felt the tears run down her cheeks, whimpering at the feeling of Jimin’s cock growing harder before the creamy warm cum spilled and painted her walls. She felt each rope shoot right into her cunt, her hearing slowly coming back and being able to hear how Jimin let out light moans with her hips stuttering into Y/n to fill her the best she could, wanting every drop inside the snug pussy. Occasionally tugging on her hair as her body convulsed at the orgasm. 

“Fuck, you took it all so well, baby.” She breathed out, her grip loosening on Y/n’s hair, their chests heaving to catch their breaths as a moment of silence fell upon them. Jimin swallowed down the thickness in her throat, blinking her eyes open, slowly pulling out, making Y/n let out a light sigh. 

The older helped the girl lay down, treating her like a fragile porcelain doll. With her dick still wet she tucked it back inside her boxers, pulling up the scrubs that were resting around her thighs. She got pulled down right after and managed to fit herself by Y/n’s petite frame on the twin-sized bed. 

“Are you alright?” She asked to make sure, her arm wrapping itself around Y/n’s shoulders who hugged at the woman’s waist. Jimin grabbed hold of Y/n’s thigh, pulling it to drape over her torso to have her closer. The doctor twisted and reached behind her with her free hand, pulling out the fuzzy teddy bear with the rose that was under her. 

“Yeah.” Y/n mumbled, trying to gather herself as her breathing was still heavy, Jimin’s fingers gently running through her hair this time. Her eyes watched as Jimin held the bear, making it sit on her stomach and face them with her fingers fiddling with the fur. 

“Did you know that sex is healthy for the heart? It can bring down the chances of a heart attack by 50%.” Y/n chuckled at the words, burying her face into the crook of the woman’s warm neck who breathed out a chuckle at her own words. 

“I love you,” Jimin spoke, craning her neck and leaning down to peck the top of Y/n’s head. It made the girl pull away and looked up at the older woman. She hummed and pushed herself up, still feeling Jimin everywhere and on her lips once again when she leaned down for a slow kiss. 

“I love you,” she pulled away for a second as they looked each other in the eye and she pecked the woman’s lips once again before pulling away fully. “This was probably the most romantic Valentine’s Day so far.” Y/n admitted. It was so different yet in a way that was special because so much had happened. 

Jimin raised her eyebrows as she pushed herself up to rest against her elbows as she looked at Y/n who reached for her clothes because they still could get paged. “Really?” She questioned, gently bouncing the teddy bear against the mattress from how the words made her feel less worried that it wasn’t enough. It made her feel giddy to know that she succeeded in the end. She watched Y/n put on the scrubs before she sat back on the bed, facing Jimin with her fingers dancing over the doctor's bare stomach, trailing gentle patterns. 

“Yeah, I got to operate on a heart with my girlfriend, and we no longer have to pretend to be just coworkers.” Y/n said as her fingers ran up to where Jimin’s heart was, circling the area as she could feel the way it was pounding against her ribcage. It made Jimin grin even more and Y/n leaned back in to kiss her heart doctor. 

Maybe Valentine’s Day hadn’t gone bad at all even if they couldn’t go on a date or do something together outside the hospital. Somehow everything they had done today was romantic in its way and there was no need for grand gestures.

[volleychumps]

HEY, HEY, HEY!! I love your Haikyuu fics, so I was wondering if you could make a fic where the reader is an absolute simp for the boys and shows her lovesickness no matter what, she'd have nosebleeds, compliments them every single time, has literal albums and photos of them everywhere on their phone or at home, she always treats them like kings, etc. The boys could be Bokuto, Akaashi Kuroo, Kenma, Kags, Tsuki, Miya Twins, Sakusa, Ushijima, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Yamaguchi, Tendou if possible

*you can choose from these if you can't write for them all, i dont mind :>

*you can also make them fem or g/n, whichever your comfortable with

- I suddenly remembered that i loved ur reader wears their jerseys fic, so i was wondering if you can make smth like that. But no pressure!! Have a great dayyy💗💗

When You're a Hardcore Simp (w/ Bokuto, Kageyama, Sakusa, and Iwaizumi) x Fem! Reader

HAHA WHAT UP GANG- wait sorry if this isn't as good as my usual stuff, let's see if I can ease back into it <3

warning(s): manga spoilers!!! In Bokuto and Sakusa's. Mention of slight blood in Bokuto's. (like a nosebleed)

Bokuto

“Y/N, you’re embarrassing. Since when were you a loser?”

You dab at the dark red liquid under your nose, a satisfied smile on your face as the owlish-haired man spikes a cross-spike across the court in an astonishing manner, the crowds of people in awe at the ace’s movements. Your eyes trace his broad shoulders, the black uniform stretched to fit his body handsomely with a confident tinge in his golden eyes. His arms-

You sigh dreamily, Kuroo Tetsurou rolling his eyes from next to you as Bokuto leaps in joy, slapping Hinata on the back and bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Jealousy is a disease, Tetsurou.” You don’t let the tall raven-haired boy damper your mood, wondering how you got so lucky as Bokuto drinks in the cheers from the audience. Kuroo rolls his eyes, reaching in his gym bag for a pack of tissues before offering you one as he leans on the railing. You accept it, taking your eyes off the love of your life momentarily to tilt your head upwards. 

“At least I don’t act like a perv in public.” Kuroo snips, eyeing you carefully as you glare at your long-term friend from high school. “Hey, are you okay? This isn’t normal, you know.”

“I’m good.” 

“You sure about that?” Kuroo nods at the court, and your eyes meet Bokuto’s golden irises all the way from where you’re standing near the upper-railing as a grin stretches across his handsome features, closing his eyes while waving in your direction with both of his arms in large gestures. Your eyes fill with adoration again, turning away quickly as the blood flow increases out of your nose.

“Nope! I take it back, my heart can’t handle this.” 

Kuroo scoffs, practically seeing hearts in your eyes as Bokuto wilts on the court as you turn your back to him. 

“Is Y/N avoiding me?” He frowns as Atsumu snickers, Sakusa shaking his head in slight disgust and disbelief at how unbelievably down bad you were. Atsumu points into the crowd with a smirk, Bokuto’s eyes lighting up at the sight of you leaning across the railing with your hands cupped to your mouth. 

“I LOVE YOU KOUTAROU!!!!” Your voice booms among the cheers of the audience, but Bokuto hears it so clearly. Kuroo is holding your waist back in annoyance at the attention you were getting from onlookers nearby, keeping you from falling off the railing. Bokuto’s eyes sparkle as he laughs at the dramatic kisses you were blowing in his direction. “YOU’RE SO HANDSOME-!” 

“I LOVE YOU MORE BABY!!!” He’s giddy, warmth evident in his features as his manager palms his face in absolute exhaustion. Hinata waves excitedly to both you and Kuroo as Sakusa and Atsumu raise a single hand in greeting. Talk about a PR disaster. 

Your cheers are loud in his ears as the Black Jackals take the final set, and Bokuto looks as handsome as ever with sweat trickling down his temple, his arms bulging with heavy use as he winks at you from up in the stands. You squeal when he motions to the passes around yours and Kuroo’s neck to come down for special access to the court. 

“I take it back.” Kuroo is annoyed and exhausted as you leap into the Ace’s arms with a squeal, Bokuto catching you by the thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle section in a passionate kiss, obviously unable to keep your hands off each other. 

“You’re both losers. Get a room before the press attacks.” 

Kageyama

“Stop wasting your money, Y/N.” Kageyama chastises you quietly, a box of white milk tapping the edge of his desk as your little school girl skirt takes the seat in front of him, an easy smile on your features as the tips of his ears burn a bright pink. 

“Waste?” You frown, tilting your head a little bit with your cheek in your palm. “Why is it a waste if my baby likes it?” 

Kageyama’s cheeks flare up next, obviously short-circuiting as you withhold a giggle, Hinata watching the exchange with a slight pout on his lips. 

“So cruel, Y/N-chan, you’re breaking our setter.” The orange-haired first year complains. “And you didn’t get me anything!”

“You know I’d never forget you, Sho.” You roll your eyes, a can of orange juice hitting the edge of Hinata’s desk yet as his eyes brighten tenfold, excitedly popping open the beverage as Kageyama embarrassedly distracts himself by sticking the straw into the box. You smile a little knowing grin as he refuses to meet your eyes, but it’s obvious it became less special to him when you got one for his idiot friend as well.

Casually, you reach a hand out to grab Kageyama’s hand as he internally combusts at the actions, holding a conversation with Hinata in the midst of it as you play with the tips of his fingers. 

Kageyama’s jaw slackens, the softness of your hands making his head spin in a good way before you make eye contact with him. You looked at him with so much love in your eyes, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

“Break time’s over! I’ll see you later, Sho.” You grin at your friend as Kageyama looks at you in expectation, and you try not to coo at the hopefulness in his blue irises before leaning down, kissing his cheek softly and so sweetly even Hinata has to look away with a blush. 

“I’ll see you later, Tobio.” You cup his cheeks afterwards, kissing the tip of his nose for good measure before beginning to bounce off with a giggle. “Have a good practice later, okay?” 

Tobio sits there for a second before a puff of smoke almost visibly comes out of his head, cheeks a deeper red than ever before. Hinata groans, calling after you as you skip your way out of his classroom. 

“This time I really think you broke him Y/N-chan!” 

Sakusa

“Yer’ so down bad it’s laughable.” Osamu quips, and you look at him in false offense, sporting Sakusa’s jersey number as well as his number written on your cheek in black paint. The black jackals cap sitting atop your head tilted slightly to the side, as if you have no idea what the hell he was talking about. 

“I don’t know why you would think that.” 

“Don’t piss me off.” 

You laugh, Osamu humming in content as he lazily watches his brother get blatantly rejected by your boyfriend in his attempt of a double high five as the game nears its close. You bite back a smile at the subtle, knowing glance he sends your way, stomach fluttering in anticipation of seeing Sakusa after his game.

“Ya look like a crazy fan that he should get a restraining order against.” Osamu continues, nudging your shoulders as you pout. 

“Do you think it’s embarrassing? Maybe Omi thinks it’s silly?” You question the shop-owner, beginning to smudge off the ink on your cheeks as your mood dips, Osamu blinking once before beginning to feel a little bad he made you insecure. Instead, he clicks his tongue, reaching out to help clean up the now smudged mess on your cheeks.

“If yer’ gonna wipe it off, at least get it off all the way.” 

“No!” You exclaim with puffed out cheeks, astonished he would even offer as you take an abrupt step back. “Only Omi can touch my face.” 

Osamu blinks at you again in disbelief, slightly impressed at the public display of your loyalties at 100% before getting annoyed again. “Oi. Don’t make me out to be some sort of-” 

“Good girl.” Your eyes light up as Sakusa taps a hand on your head, scowling at the inky mess on your cheeks before meeting Osamu with a deadpan stare. “What happened to my jersey number?” 

Osamu’s eyes flit between the two of you as Atsumu can’t help but burst out laughing from the court below, the cook coming to a slow realization as Sakusa turns your head to the side with a slight pinch in your cheeks with one hand, a sanitizing wipe doing just the trick as you meet his seemingly indifferent stare with a look of pure adoration. 

He’s just as whipped as you are. 

Sakusa finishes ridding your cheeks of ink before tugging you along, bringing his mask up over his face as you hum giddily, smile etched into your features when he stops outside the locker room with an outstretched hand. 

“It’s not embarrassing?” Your voice is quiet as you look up at him with a hopeful glint in your eyes, putting the black paint marker into his hand as Sakusa rolls his eyes. He writes #15 in elegant strokes on your clean skin, laser focused, capping the marker after in satisfaction. 

“No.” His response is simple as he tugs down his mask to place a quick kiss on your eyelid, a heat warming your cheeks as Sakusa hesitates for a second before placing one on your lips as well, sending your heart soaring wildly. 

He’s already walking ahead of you as you stare after him in slight bewilderment for a second, already bounding up next to him as you slip your hand into his. 

“Thought it was too public for you, Omi.” 

“That’s your prize for not letting Miya touch what’s mine.” 

Iwaizumi

“Y/N’s rizz is unmatched, as always.” 

Matsukawa grins into his canned coffee at lunch time, watching as you somehow manage to get Iwaizumi to smile a bit in the selfie you were taking, a flirtatious wink in your eye as your hand cups his cheek lovingly. Iwaizumi nods in quiet approval at the bento you had made for him, shooting you a small loving look he only reserves for you before tugging you into his lap casually. 

“I still don’t understand how Iwa pulled someone as adoring as Y/N.” Hanamaki whistles lowly, Oikawa nodding in agreement with a grin. 

“She’s such a simp.” 

“We’re sitting right here, what the hell.” You glare a little bit at the three of them as Iwa matches your action, Oikawa almost laughing at the uncharacteristic expression on your face you obviously adopted from your boyfriend. 

“I’m not a simp!” You proclaim as Iwaizumi arches an eyebrow amusedly, but doesn’t say anything. “You can’t prove it.” 

“Turn your phone around.” Hanamaki doesn’t miss a beat, finishing off his own bento as you wilt a little, showing the clear phone case littered with heart stickers and a single polaroid photo of Iwaizumi overlooking a strawberry patch. Iwaizumi looks away to hold back his expression, but the guys could tell from his eyes he was pretty happy.

“Most girls do this.” 

“Uh-huh.” Matsukawa’s next, smirk beginning to tickle the edge of his lips. “What do you have his name under in your phone?” 

“Iwa.” 

“Why are you lying for fun.” Oikawa plucks the phone out of your hand, ignoring your whine of protests before showing the group your blatant lie. “I’m pretty sure this says ‘Future Handsome (DILF) Husband’”.

“See, that was a typo.”  But your cheeks give your poor lie away anyways, upset at how Iwaizumi begins to hide his grin in your neck and hold you a little tighter in his lap. 

“Is this not a whole album dedicated to your relationship with him- how the absolute hell do you have 600 images of him? I only have one and it’s from fourth grade!” Oikawa’s rant of complaints is cut off by you snatching the phone out of his grasp, before pushing off of Iwaizumi’s lap to run out of the room in embarrassment. Iwaizumi’s mood darkens, turning to his friends as Oikawa freezes up with a nervous grin on his face.

“Too far?” 

“You three are apologizing to her later.” Iwaizumi doesn’t leave room for comments, his tone changing drastically into a shy mutter as he stalks out of the classroom to go find you. 

“Even if she is a bit of a simp.” 

“You say that like you didn’t spend a year and half liking her, Iwa-chan!”

[banj0possum]

Eat Your Heart Out

Yandere!Zombie Horde x Male Reader

Cw: Apocalyptic world, mention of death, poly relationship

A terato request by @xweirdo101x, hope you like it! (*´∀`*)/

Edit!! Nsfw content removed!! Apologies stinkers

💀 You don't remember the last time 'normal' was the norm in your life. Bustling streets became barren and gigantic cities were nothing but ruins and hot spots for survivors or whatever monsters ruled the surface now. Ever since the start of the virus outbreak, the world fell apart into something out of an apocalypse movie, where the only rule was survived and pray the infected doesn't find you.

💀 You could remember however, how this all started. not only was it because of a virus, but it was man-made. It was supposed to be humanity's saving grace, a way to cure all ailments and boost the abilities of whoever took it, but it turned out to be a horrific world-destroying disease that ruined the mind of everything it infected. Humans, animals, plants, almost everything mutated into mindless, bloodthirsty monsters.

💀 You winced at the memories of seeing the news on tv, the sight of people running and screaming from infected, their snarls echoing in your mind as the memory of seeing your friends die in front of you one by one flashed in your mind. You groan, knowing how hopeless it was in this world, but your will to live was too strong.

💀 Living in the ruins at was your town isn't so hard, there was always food to scavenge for in the old mall which you lived in, and you were the only one left to your knowledge so there was no competition for supplies.

💀 Although there was a tiny problem...

💀 A small horde of zombies decided to take residence in the mall as well. Unlike their movie counterparts, they weren't heaps of rotting flesh but pale-looking creatures that looked like they didn't eat in days, albeit with bits of their flesh missing but nothing too gross. They still moaned and groaned but at least they didn't smell from a mile away. At first you were very weary of them, but after a certain encounter, you found out they never seemed to be interested in attacking you.

💀 They were surprisingly docile, only getting aggressive at other monsters that wandered in the mall.

💀 You didn't know the virus mutated once again, allowing certain infected to regain a bit of their consciousness.

💀 The horde met each other through wandering aimlessly before bumping into one another, they formed somewhat of a pack or group of sorts, knowing they were all different from the rest of the monsters that infested the world.

💀 You noticed the horde would be around wherever you went, the food court, the arcade, the cinema, it was like they were following you.

💀 Although they never tried to eat you at first sight, you still didn't want a fight with an entire horde, so you avoided them whenever, much to their dismay.

💀 You would then see one of two of them follow you around. You'd be spooked for a bit before realizing they would copy anything you did. You jumped and yelped and the zombie following you would do the same.

💀 The zombie would coo and purr at you, sniffing at the air like a lost pup. You hesitantly put down your weapon and walk closer to him. You get out a soft 'hello' and the zombie gurgles out a 'hi' back, making you utterly astonished, taken aback by the zombie's intelligence.

💀 Ever since then you would study the horde and their behaviors. They all had different personalities which intrigued you further. You decided to give them names as you couldn't just call them 'zombies' all the time.

💀 One with the flesh from his right arm missing was named 'Screw' because of his tendency to collect shiny bits and bobs from the ground of broken objects. He was shy but loved to show you the things he's collected.

💀 Another had parts of his ribs showing, but surprisingly nothing inside was named 'Ribs' as he fiddled with his most of the time. He was curious and a bit hyper, always wandering the most and the fastest among them.

💀 One, which was probably the smartest, had only one eye, which he could move from one socket to the other by tilting his head was 'Soda' because he had the quirk of copying you eating or drinking. One time he copied you drinking a bottle of soda pop and he gurgled in happiness over the fizzy taste. He knew what certain things were if you told him and he recognized objects in pictures like dogs or planes, things you haven't seen since the first wave.

💀 The last and most likely the leader was named 'Bo' as he had a dog tag on him, probably from serving the military when he was human. Despite his stomach being missing he was weirdly strong, always protecting the rest of the horde when there were monsters that were more aggressive than most.

💀 You and the horde quickly grew a bond, sometimes they even found food for you or protected you from danger or even other zombies. You never knew what drove them to be so protective, but you were happy you didn't have to live alone anymore.

💀 You noticed the horde being more affectionate, being found wandering closer and closer to where you usually stayed. You figured it was because they were so close to you until one managed to make its way into the boarded-up store you lived in.

💀 It was Screw looking through your clothes, sniffing and rummaging your shirts and underwear, you remember they relied on smell a lot and assumed he wanted to look for you and followed your scent into your home.

💀 Unbeknownst to you, they were absolutely in love with you. They came to the mall for refuge and found something much better, a lovely little mate to call theirs, one soft and squishy and warm and very very tough, something that is important when surviving in the wastelands. The times where you would touch them whether it was a light brush on their hands or pats on their shoulders of heads were the best. Your warm body making contact with their cold, dead ones.

💀 The horde had enough of you hiding and running away from them all the time, playing a teasing game of cat and mouse with them, they wanted to take care of you don't you see? They won't hurt you! You're their little mate!

💀 Bo sent Screw to track you as he was always the one to follow you around back when they first came to the mall. He followed your scent to a small hole that was hidden behind a dumpster. He crawled inside and was hit with the most powerful smell of your sweet scent he could ever encounter. He coos, knowing he found your little nest.

💀 The others were standing by the dumpster, waiting for a signal from Screw that the area inside was safe for them to enter. Meanwhile you were trying your best to shoo Screw out, scared that he might hurt himself with all the delicate objects and weapons you kept in your home.

💀 Ribs heard your voice and gurgled happily, quickly crawling inside, Bo and Soda going in after him.

💀 You finally got a purring Screw in your hands as you spot the others entering your home through one of the entrances you made. You feel your eye twitch as you try to process what was going on.

💀 Screw was happily cooing in your arms as Soda limps over to you smiling and chittering, his hands on your arms as Bo curtly moves closer to you like a guilty puppy.

💀 You then notice you didn't see Ribs and you turn around as you're tackle-hugged to the ground by the zombie along with Screw, the two of them cuddling and rubbing themselves on you as you try to wriggle out of their hug.

💀 Soda leans down beside you three as Bo does the same, the four undead men now cooing and purring all over you.

💀 Now you don't really have to leave your little home as they would always keep you gently nestled in the bundle of blankets and soft things they found around the mall. They would take turns with whoever would stay by your side for the day as the rest wandered around in search of food or trinkets to bring back to you and maybe a survivor or two for a little snack.

💀 All in all, they can't get enough of you, and you can't help being stuck with a zombie cuddling you 24/7

i didnt mean to write them so asfjnakfeqkgkaeg they are such little meow meows i cant-

[mins-fins]

119

&&. unfortunately you aren't as slick as you thought you were.

pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader

genre: fluffity fluff fluff fluff

warnings: sexual jokes, thats it 😚

word count: 1.2k

notes: jj spread the jeno bias disease i literally cant believe this 😭😭 hes so……….im abt to draft another long jeno fic + an smau + another stupid drabble and all of that fun stuff!! dont get it twisted jisung is still my ult though 😒 no ones ever replacing him, anyway this came from a prompt someone sent me, smth about "kissing someone on a ferris wheel" which i just LOVEEEED hello??? okay ik none of you care abt my words, love jeno, love nct dream, pray i get park jisung pcs 😇 good night now <33

you are going to murder na jaemin.

the moment you get off this ferris wheel your throwing up your guts all over his shirt, or punching him in his face, or strangling him to death, whatever. the moment you step off this ride you're making sure he doesn't open his eyes to see the rest of his fellow human beings ever again.

maybe if you were less awkward you'd actually be thanking him, but you take one side glance at the boy beside you and want to smash your head against the glass.

jeno doesn't notice your side glance (and thank goodness he doesn't because you probably would've died if he took so much as a glance at you), he's much too busy glancing at the view from the height your at. you assume that jeno likes ferris wheels, he probably likes them more than you do.

"are you alright?"

you mentally prepare yourself for the voice crack you know might escape your lips. just talk to him like a normal human being, y/n, yeah you're into him and shit but that doesn't mean you can be a weirdo.

"yeah" you finally respond, thank goodness the voice cracks don't come out. "just feeling a little nauseous".

jeno raises an eyebrow. "scared of heights?"

you only manage a curt nod, a nod that makes jeno scoot closer to you, his lips stretching into a smile. "it's alright, i'll protect you".

fuck you lee jeno, fuck you, fuck you, fuck yo—

your somehow able to chuckle, amused by his words. "it's not like i'm dying or anything".

jeno frowns. "so you don't want my protection?"

you pretend to think about it, pressing your lips together as your eyebrows furrow, avoiding eye contact with jeno at all costs. if you look at him, your going to fall and never get up. "i wouldn't be entirely against it".

jeno's shoulder nudges yours, nothing but a small touch that drives you crazy. you wonder if the mini breakdown your having is noticeable, if maybe, he's doing it on purpose, making your heart race to get a kick out of it.

but when you think about it further, it makes you giggle, because this is lee jeno, you could get down on one knee and propose to him yet he'd still be confused by how you feel for him.

if lee jeno knew how you felt for him really, you probably wouldn't have resisted the urge to make out with him on this fucking ride or already.

that was a strange thought, a stupid one even, but it's one manifested from your deepest desires.

when you think about it, though, you wouldn't exactly mind it.

"that's good" jeno snickers at you, eyes examining your face as if it's an interesting exhibit at an art museum. "you need me".

you feign a sigh of irritation. "of course, what would i do without you?"

"you'd die, clearly" jeno replies, tilting his head and reaching over to lace your fingers with his. the cold rings on his fingers feel like glass shards against your fingers, but his soft hands contrast his stabbing rings. "isn't this sort of romantic?"

you choke on your spit.

"romantic? roma— hah! what are you talking about? what is romantic about this?"

soooo natural, y/n.

jeno simply shrugs, suddenly very interested in the view of the carnival from the ferris wheel. "were on a ferris wheel together, stars before us, just the two of us, this would be like.. the perfect date".

you blink, the words making you pause and your head spin. is he serious? is he really serious?

"is this your way of asking me out?"

you manage to ask that without sounding like a pathetic idiot who wanted to hear those exact words, and your response gets the same reaction out of jeno, flushed cheeks with an awkward chuckle accompanying the sight. you would've thought you were a genius if you weren't as flustered as he was.

jeno is speechless, and he fumbles through his speech like someone's holding him at gunpoint or something. "i— no! no! ..maybe? kinda?"

you pause, all your former confidence suddenly withering away, the blood rushing to your cheeks in full force. you laugh, taking his words as a joke, but jeno keeps silent, and so do you.

"are you serious?"

jeno can't speak, so he just nods wordlessly.

you blink, glancing from side to side, this ferris wheel won't be on the ground soon, but at least this makes it a little more bearable. "did you just confess your feelings for me like that?"

"well to be fair—"

"i was supposed to do it first!" you yell in another fit of feigned irritation, your cheeks a color reminiscent of jeno's cherry red shirt. "that's not fair! you beat me to it!"

"well how was i supposed to know you liked me back?"

you scoff, and jeno goes silent again, embarrassed by the question he just asked.

"you're such an idiot lee jeno.."

"can i kiss you?"

the question is a blurt of pure desperation, pure honesty from the deepest corners of jeno's mind, an inquiry he's been dying to ask you ever since he found himself interested in staring at your lips.

you hope you don't faint from the scorching heat radiating off your face.

"it's romantic" he laughs, his best excuse for that random inquiry. "i've always wanted to kiss someone in a ferris wheel, unless you don't want to then—"

you (in the most cliche turn of events) cut jeno off with a kiss. though you'd love to keep your fingers intertwined, you let go of his hand to find purchase on his shoulder, then tug him closer to you with a light jerk. a small squeak emits from him, but he quickly relaxes into the kiss, giggling at your enthusiasm.

though he giggles, he isn't much better off. it's nothing but a small press of the lips, it's not intense or anything, but jeno feels his heart soar. hie face heats to overwhelming heights, and he loops his arm around your waist, pressing you against him, as if the idea of not feeling every part of you would be maddening.

you both are just as desperate as each other, there's no push, just pull. it's a playful competition, your waiting for the other to pull away, stop the kiss because they need breath, it's stubborn in an idiotic way.

but jeno loses your little battle, because he pulls away for air, as red as the sunset in the early morning.

and though you laugh at the sight, you aren't much better off yourself (if the heat continuing to permeate from your face is enough).

"was that romantic enough for you?"

even with how breathless he is, jeno still manages a stupid question.

he squeals when you land a slap on his shoulder.

and while you thought you two were slick about it, considering you were like five feet in the air with nobody to see you, your equally red faces and intertwined hands were enough to get feigned vomits from your friends.

jaemin snickers as he looks between you two, and you glare as you see him open his mouth.

"so what happened up there?"

"clearly they got it on".

upon hearing the words, you let go of jeno's hand to yell and chase after lee donghyuck, who squeals and sprints away, shouting for renjun to help him.

jaemin just sends jeno a knowing look, a look that the older pretends he isn't bothered by.

for once, one of his ploys finally worked.

[xiao-come-home]

❝Uncurable disease... or so they say.❞

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Neuvillette.

✰ Words: 1k.

✰ SFW ; gn!reader, no mentions of pronouns, but neuvillette uses female pet name towards the reader, I think.

Warnings: slight hurt, but then a lot of comfort. neuvi doesnt know how confessing works and does it his own way.

A/N: NEUVILLETTE BRAINROT NEUVILLETTE BRAINROTKORFKKTGOID GRRRRRR it was supposed to short but oh well 1k words hehe shy emoji

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

“You make me ill.”

Neuvillette’s words pierce through your heart like daggers. His orchid eyes stare you down and indicate absolutely nothing; his sudden confession left you in a circle between shock and confusion.

The words spread throughout your body like poison, but in reality you’re only staring back at him. The hurt starts to become visible on your face, but your mouth seems to be unable to let out a noise; yet, the voice in your head yells and begs to know the answer as to why.

You clutch the rainbow rose he brought you close to your chest, being the first to take your eyes off him. You look at the ground, feeling the familiar clump in your throat that starts to form.

Neuvillette has been feeling sick as of late. Or at least, that’s what he thought - well, what else could explain that he feels his temperature rise, his heart beating so fast it could escape his chest, making even his voice tremble? “No, this cannot be-“ Neuvillette thought frantically, massaging his temples, “It’s time for a professional to evaluate.”

Though, as expected - the doctor was of no help. She giggled to herself, “I apologize, monsieur Neuvillette, I’m afraid I can’t help in this case. I can assure you however, you’re perfectly healthy.” The chief of justice felt the uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment, but thanked the doctor and left the room.

After yet another trial where Neuvillette seemed to be somewhere else with his thoughts, Furina confronted him with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. The white haired man could only mutter a thing, that he does not feel well; at the sound of his pathetic excuse, Furina stood up from her seat furiously, throwing her hands in the air, “You aren’t sick, fool! You’re in love!”The hydro archon’s cheeks flushed a slight pink at her own statement, but she was no match for her subordinate; she pushed the sudden bashfulness away, “n-now, do something about it immediately! I will not tolerate it in the courtroom any longer!” Furina crossed her arms and sat down again, furrowing her brows and watching the empty seats below her.

Seeing you divert your eyes away, Neuvillette’s expression softened significantly, his line of sight mimicking yours and shifting to a nearby bench.

“Why?”

Neuvillette blinks quickly, his eyelashes batting at you in surprise, “Come again? What do you mean?”

“Why do you hate me?”

He could feel the boiling hot feeling spreading through his body, although not a pleasant one. His eyes widened at you and his lips parted ever so slightly - but Neuvillette could only hear his heart beating so fast, beating to the rhythm of worry and uncertainty.

Before he could react properly, he saw a small tear dripping down your cheek, onto the cold pavement.

But his body moved without thinking.

He cups your cheeks gently with his gloved hands and moves your head up, just enough so you could look at him. His thumbs wipe your tears off your face, sighing deeply and finally speaking the real deal.

“You… make my heart race. It beats ungodly fast whenever I lay my eyes on you. You’ve been occupying my thoughts for many months, and even if I try to think about anything else - I cannot bring myself to do it, because it all comes back to you. I can’t… stop thinking about you, I can’t stop myself from admiring your ravishing beauty, I want you-“

“Wait!” You yell just enough to make him stop, both of you avoiding each other’s gazes and blushing bright red, but his hands stayed firmly on your face, no longer drying off tears, but caressing the apples of your cheeks he gently, “if that’s how you feel, then why…? Why did you say it like that?” For what it feels like first time in forever, you look into his gorgeous eyes that resemble the finest amethyst.

“I… I apologize, I didn’t want you to misunderstand me,” Neuvillette gasps slightly when he feels your delicate palms on his own hands, “but I truly mean it - I…”

Your breath hitches in your throat; the butterflies in your stomach don’t seem to help, but the anticipation has you almost shaking.

“I love you.”

Neuvillette can’t describe the weight that’s been lifted off his shoulders; but the sinking sensation in his stomach of not knowing what will happen next is making him nervous more than anything. When more tears meet his hands yet again, he fears for the worst.

“It’s alright, please do not shed any more tears because of me. I’m happy enough to have said it,” except, he doesn’t. He feels his heart break in half, getting filled by nothing but a void of emptiness.

The clouds become gloomy - looks like it’s going to rain later.

Just as his hands slide down and he begins to turn away, you reach out for his arm and grab it, causing him to spare you one, last look.

“Wait! I’m sorry, don’t go… I love you too, silly.” You manage to murmur the last few words loud enough that he could hear.

Neuvillette can’t believe it’s actually happening. He appears stunned for a minute, watching you in disbelief, but then a genuine smile graces his lips; his hands play with your fingers and silently ask to be intertwined with yours. When your interlaced hands give him a small squeeze, he gives you the softest, most lovesick look with his eyes that no one could ever imagine.

He places a quick kiss on your forehead and leans against it. Neuvillette’s eyes close for a moment, absorbing the fleeting moment.

It doesn’t take long before the chief of justice pushes your chin up with his fingers, his thumb brushing your lower lip, awaiting for your answer, “Can I, ma chérie?”

It only takes seconds for him to finally lock your lips together, and he wishes to feel that tenderness forever from this day forward.

Neuvillette certainly has to learn a bit more about expressing feelings - now, with your help.

The golden sun returns to adorn the clear skies once more.

[i-lived-i-died-and-now-i-sleep]

Baldwin IVs love language

I thought about how one person could possibly win over Baldwins heart and decided to write about the ways I think he enjoys to be cherished as a partner. Hope you enjoy!

I think Baldwin prefers three out of the five love language types: Quality time, words of affirmation and physical touches. Let me explain why:

Quality time: Baldwin definitely enjoys to spend some alone time with his significant other. It doesn't matter if you sit together after a long day and you listen to him talking about the political situation in the kingdom, you two sitting comfortably next to each other while you both read a book, or even meet up to eat dinner together: this is his favorite time of the day. Spending time with you,getting to know you is THE most important thing for Baldwin. For most of his life, he usually spend the evenings either alone or with work but ever since you came into his life, he looks forward to each end of a day when he can finally join you and just cherish your company. I really think due to the leprosy and the limits of physical love that comes with it, Baldwin falls in love with a mind,not looks. So if you talk to him about philosophy,history or some good stories of French knights,he will absolutely fall for you. He really needs this time to make sure that he stays grounded, to remember he found a home in you.

Words of affirmation: While Baldwin definitely stands his ground in political discussions and acts as a remarkable ruler on the outside (and the inside!), I think he also has a very vulnerable side to him. How could he not? Carrying the future of the whole kingdom on his shoulders while suffering from an incurable disease that may or may not be connected to the wrath of God? Baldwin definitely has his moments when he is sure that he can't continue like this. Shallow moments when the anger he feels about this situation does seem to get to his head. He usually spends these moments alone in his private chambers because he doesn't want to show anyone how he much the world hurts sometimes, but after some time, he would definitely let the mask down (haha) in front of you. It may take a while for him to be really comfortable to show anyone how he truly feels but as soon as he accepts you as his safe place, he WILL let his guard down. You accepting this side of him, listening to him rambling, drying his tears feels like heaven on earth to him. He loves to hear words of support from you, how he is a good king and how proud you are of him. But sometimes it's enough for him to just listen to your breath while he lays on your chest and accept his tears.

Physical touch: Listen to me, this man is touch - starved for what seems like forever. Every day of his life consists of people avoiding his presence, avoiding his touch, fearing him. And he isn't even angry about this,how could he? They fear the leprosy and he completely understands this. He himself still can't believe sometimes that God brought this upon him and the way this illness is destroying every part of his body is utterly disturbing. Yes, sometimes he feels like a rotten corpse that somehow still clings to life. He would never EXPECT anyone to willingly touch him, although he silently hopes that he will feel physical love again...somewhen. So when you softly touch his hand while you both play chess, he is sure that he can hear the blood rushing through his veins. His heart is beating faster than ever and although he can't exactly FEEL you, seeing someone closing the physical gap is enough for butterflies to fly in his stomach. The thought alone that you don't FEAR him, that you don't think him ugly or nasty but,on the contrary, long for his touch may be the best feeling for him. So every time you draw him in for a soft hug, kiss his mask or lay your hand in his, he feels like the luckiest man on earth. He will always make sure that he and your shared physical touches aren't a danger to you tho; the last thing he wants for you is to share this unholy illness with him.

[reareaotaku]

so I had a though what if the Barbies and the Kens actually had private parts but actively avoided them (think, using etc)?

Like Barbies do have boobs and you can see that the Kens have nipples. Also dolls - as far as I remember - had panties, craved in, panties.

I believe in the movie they talk about how they don't have genitals. Though, let's say that they do have privates, what would happen? Also ignoring the second part

Pleasurable Sin [Headcanons]

Yandere! Ryan! Ken x Fem! Reader Tw: Smut/Nsfw, Masturbation/Jerking Off, Ken has a dick! 🔞18+ Content due to dark and adult themes. Read at your own risk

The Barbies are more sexually aware/have a sexual education

The only reason the Kens don't ALSO have a sexual education is because they don't take it seriously [Also, they're not really getting laid]

There are no diseases, STD & STIs, because there's nothing to give it to them if that makes sense?

They are humanized versions of their doll personas, meaning they have human bodies and need food, water, air, etc

The Kens are very sexual

Your Ken, Ryan, is always touching you and humping you, quite literally

The first time Ken jerked off he had no idea what he was doing

He grabbed the base/shaft and slowly moves up towards the tip. He slowly picks up the pace, which causes him to groan. He really liked the feeling and speeds up. He quickly speeds up when feeling his lower intestine tighten up and then cums all over his hand

He's out of breath and excited with this newfound pleasure

It makes him wonder if you also feel like this

He's completely clueless and thinks you also have a penis

"Well, don't you pull on it too?"

You look at him confused, before laughing at him. He blushes, embarrassed, feeling like a fool."

"We don't have the same genitalia, you know that right, Ken?"

"Of course I do... So what does it look like?"

Once he does figure out what jerking off and how good it is, he does it a lot

When you rub against him, it's like seeing stars

It feels better when you rub him than when he rubs himself

Man will do anything for you to touch him

He's very loud and cries during sex

He'll cover his mouth when your mouth is wrapped around him, because he doesn't want anyone to hear him

Suck him like a lolipop, it's like a treat for him

Barbie Dreamhouse Ken would care about your pleasure

Ken is so excited and sometimes forgets to please you

He moves so fast and energetically

Though, if you tell him, he'll be more cautious, because his biggest fear is you not loving him. So, when he does realize that he's been upsetting/displeasing you, he's scared

While he does enjoy the feeling of being inside you, if you show any discomfort, now that he has eagle eyes on you, he'll be quick to ask what's wrong

He's willing to do whatever you're up for

He's also really easy to turn on

If Boner Alerts existed, his would go off anytime you're near

You don't even have to do anything; You just talk a certain way/Lean into him just a little to far/ You look at him a certain way... Well, it all works and he gets excited

He gets really sad when you say no, but is willing to do it by himself. He'd rather you help him, but it's okay, he'll just use his imagination

Oh boy, does his imagination run wild

Good thing Porn doesn't exist in Barbie Land, because he'd be wanting to do it all with you

While he does love 'Love-making', he doesn't think about it constantly. Sometimes he loves the way you look in the sunlight. You look beautiful when you smile. Your laugh makes his heart beat and his skin gets those goosebumps. A shiver runs up his back when you look at him like he's the only man in the world

There's no one else like you. Yeah, the Barbies are pretty, but you are one of a kind and you're the only person who owns Ken's mind

[probablyasocialecologist]

Disco Elysium's setting was formerly the site of a communist revolution that established the Commune of Revachol. It didn't last long. The Coalition of Nations brutally put the communists down, divided the city among themselves, and enforced a free market capitalist system. The results are depressingly apparent in Revachol's dilapidated district of Martinaise. "The literacy rate is around 45% west of the river," Joyce Messier, a negotiator sent to parley with Martinaise's striking union, tells our protagonist. "Fifty years of occupation have left these people in an *oblivion* of poverty." This state of affairs is overseen by the Moralist International, a union of centre-left and centre-right parties that professes to represent the cause of humanism, but whose primary concern is transparently the preservation of capitalist interest – a Coalition official happily tells us that "the Coalition is only looking out for *ze price stabilitié*", arguing that inflation in Revachol must be prevented, comparing it to a heart disease that could block the "normal circulation of the economy". The people of Revachol don't matter. Their suffering and oppression is only significant as a necessary symptom of the system functioning as intended.  The most biting aspect of this critique of capitalist exploitation can be found in the cynicism of those who represent Moralism, or at least, its interests. The aforementioned Joyce Messier is its perfect embodiment. She does not believe in the facade of humanity Moralism presents to the world, and is under no illusions about what it has done to the people of Martinaise. She tells you how bad things are, freely admitting that the pieces of legislation put in place by the Moralist Coalition to govern Revachol are there to keep "the city in a [...] laissez-faire stasis to the benefit of foreign capital". This corrosion of belief via cynicism, this depiction of a system that continues to operate unimpeded despite few believing in it, feels all too familiar.  This critique of liberal capitalism's hypocrisy, cynicism, exploitation and deep-rooted connections to colonialism, is particularly powerful in recognising the precarious position it finds itself in. It has reached a stasis that seems, paradoxically, both insurmountable, and on the verge of collapse. Moralism relies on this contradiction. It's unofficial motto, "for a moment, there was hope", underlines the degree to which its dominance depends on the preclusion of the idea that a better world is possible, that there is no alternative, echoing the End of History sentiment that created the (rapidly disintegrating) political consensus of our lived reality. Despite growing dissatisfaction with the status quo in the real world, it has, indeed, proved difficult to imagine an alternative. The oft-repeated phrase attributed to literary critic and political theorist Fredric Jameson, that is is easier to imagine the end of the world than it is the end of capitalism, has almost become a cliché. However, the mistake Joyce makes, and one that we should avoid, is to assume that this means an alternative won't emerge nonetheless.

[...]

In a world where everyone is encouraged to look out for themselves, Disco Elysium suggests we should remember the value of collectivity, camaraderie and community. The Deserter has forgotten that though the communism he identified with is dead, the values that brought people to its cause in search of a better world remain as valid as ever. Bleak as it is, those values exist in Martinaise. They exist in us. Their latent power has the potential to lead us towards better horizons. 

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 7: Tell Me That I Won't Feel A Thing]

A/N: Hello besties! Thank you for voting in the poll for Chapter 7. Below are your predictions...let's see how you did! 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is back yay!!!

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Give Me Novacaine” by Green Day.

Word count: 9.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Billboards ask you as the Tahoe flies across the flat emerald sea of Iowa: Have you heard the good news? Have you been saved? Where will you spend eternity? Are you struggling with same-sex attraction? Do you regret your abortion? Do you fear the Lord? Do you want to end up in Hell?

Aegon snickers, gnawing on a Slim Jim. The sun glare turns his wild hair to gold, etches crinkles into the ruddy skin around his eyes, murky like deep water, oceans you recognize from other corners of the world. “I thought I was already there.”

Jace’s Honda Rebel 300 is left on the shoulder of the highway with its fuel tank uncapped, drained to feed the Tahoe, prehistoric combustion, bottomless mechanical hunger. Rhaena takes over driving so Baela can sit with Jace, touch him, inhale him, convince herself he’s real. Aegon climbs into the passenger’s seat and skips songs on the CD player until he finds the one he wants: In Da Club by 50 Cent. The miles roll by so soft and so infinite that you can’t imagine ever feeling trapped again, warm July air unfurling down the darkest corridors of your lungs, hawks on lifeless power lines and fields dappled with white-tailed deer. And you think: Everything will be better now.

You cross the Missouri River and into Nebraska at Plattsmouth, which—according to a plaque mounted on the outskirts of town—the Lewis and Clark Expedition passed through over two centuries ago. Rhaena follows Aegon’s directions to cut between Lincoln and Omaha, avoiding the roiling wastelands of the cities and keeping well north of Cooper Nuclear Station, where in the absence of a successful manual or computerized shutdown before the power grid collapsed, rods of uranium are melting down and irradiating the surrounding area, anemia, cancer, heart disease, radiation sickness, an affliction that eats you alive.

Rhaena takes Nebraska State Route 66 north and then Route 92 due west, lush fields of corn and soybeans and sorghum planted before the dead began to walk, bones of devoured livestock. You stop for the night in a town called Broken Bow, the sky turning the colors of fire and rust and blood, the Tahoe exsanguinated like a man with a slit throat. Every vehicle you pass already has its fuel cap unscrewed; the farther west you go—the scarcer the resources, the longer it’s been since the world began to end—the less the earth will yield to you: less guns, less gasoline, less food, less human settlements scattered across what was once called the frontier. You commandeer a two-story house: white wood, wraparound porch, a long gravel driveway that winds like a snake. There is a small cornfield and a barn, both of which you sweep for zombies before making yourselves at home. You try not to think about what happened to the family that used to live here.

Helaena lights candles, Luke and Rhaena distribute bowls and silverware, Aemond and Rio gather kindling for the woodstove, Daeron keeps watch on the porch, Aegon picks all the Twizzlers out of a mixed bag of Hershey’s candy for Jace. There is a 12-pack of Ramen noodles in the pantry, gallons of water in the cellar, and a pot large enough to cook it all in one batch. Cregan takes Ice and disappears into the cornfield for half an hour at dusk—something none of the rest of you would ever consider—and reappears with an opossum that he’s nearly decapitated with his axe. He butchers it and you brown cubes of meat in a sauté pan placed directly on the glowing embers. The others are horrified and won’t eat a single bite until you do. It’s the first real food you’ve had since you left Saratoga Springs, and you feel satiated in a way you had forgotten existed.

In honor of Jace’s resurrection, some revelry is in order. There are bottles of Grey Goose vodka in a kitchen cabinet, and Aemond allows a two drink maximum for anyone eligible to participate: Baela is too pregnant, Daeron is too young, Aemond himself is too vigilant, too self-sacrificial, too indoctrinated into the religion of his own martyrdom.

“Daddy loved his screwdrivers,” Cregan says. “I remember being five or six and taking a big gulp of one thinking it was Sunny D or Tang or something. Lord almighty, was that a shock!” He guffaws, then inspects the pantry, scratching at the dark stubble on his cheeks. “We ain’t got nothing like orange juice though.”

“Mama made hers with Hawaiian Punch.” You point: there are several jugs of it on the floor between boxes of Pop-Tarts and Welch’s Fruit Snacks and Cheddar Whales, red like crushed blackberries or fresh blood.

Cregan grins at you over his brawny shoulder. “That’ll work, Miss Chips.”

Luke and Rhaena have first watch, Rio and Aegon will take the second. You are blessedly unburdened tonight. This house is big enough for you to get your own room; you climb the staircase with Grey Goose vodka burning in your throat, your head warm and dizzy, a sensation like freefalling as you lie down on the bed.

I left them, you think, the walls spinning around you, echoes of Mama’s voice through the phone as Rio stood there nodding, encouraging you to hang up. I left them and I never looked back. Can someone commit such an act of ancestral betrayal without incurring a curse?

You are still considering this when you feel Aemond’s weight on the mattress and fold into him, the world going dark and hushed and harmless.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I think it’s safe,” you tell Aemond between sighs, his lips on your throat, his hand between your thighs. Late-morning sunlight slants in through the bedroom windows; goldfinches and blue jays flap by chirping blithely. The dead pillage the misfortunate beasts of the earth, but creatures of the air and water are spared. You can hear geese honking from a distance, and the breeze through the cornfield, and calm indistinct voices beneath the floorboards. You can smell pancakes turning from white to gold in a pan sizzling with Crisco. Cregan must be cooking breakfast in the woodstove.

“How sure are you?” Aemond murmurs, his breath warm on your neck, those small teeth he’s always hiding nipping playfully, and if he leaves marks like stains of ballpoint ink you don’t care. He’s whisked every scrap of your clothing away. Beneath him you are bare and helpless and needing more.

“Like…eighty percent sure.”

“I’ll pull out.”

“Like Jace did?”

He laughs and kisses your mouth, not just ravenous but wild like a storm, and all the rest of the world goes quiet. Your ankles are linked around him, his hips rocking with yours. He is wearing only his boxers, black plaid from a looted Walmart, apocalypse chic. “Hopefully better than that.”

“Just try your best. I trust you. I’m willing to risk it.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s worth it to me.” I could be dead in nine months, he could be dead in nine months. I’m not wasting the time we have left.

“It’s your decision. You would be most affected by the consequences.” He draws away and glances down. “I want to look at you.”

“Ohhh.” You stall. “I’ve been trimming with scissors by candlelight. It’s a hack job.”

“I won’t mind.” He grins. “You don’t mind my hack job of a face.”

“I love your face,” you say as you skim your fingerprints down the length of his scar. And then, when he raises an eyebrow roguishly: “I didn’t break any rules. I didn’t say I love you, just your face. I’m totally using you for your face. Your personality is terrible.”

He snickers, kisses you goodbye, retreats to your hips and pushes your thighs apart as you cover your face and whimper, nervous, exhilarated. And then his lips are on you and the trepidation melts away, puddles pooling and then evaporating, and you have a vision of being home again, shivering and dripping in front of the crackling flames of the woodstove after playing outside in the snow and waiting for the fire to take the cold away. Now the fire is growing over you like ivy, tendrils snaking through veins and leaves opening in your lungs, bones vanishing, muscles turning pliant and weightless. You can feel Aemond’s fingers pushing into you, a fleeting second of tension and discomfort, and then a fullness that is delectable, irresistible, maddening.

“Come back,” you plead, and when he does you clasp his face with both hands, kissing him deeply as his fingers remain inside you, thrusting and bathed in your wetness. You’re finally ready for him, you have to be, you need him so badly: like you’re dying of thirst, like you’re running out of air. “Now, Aemond, please. I want all of you.”

And he wants it too. His boxers are gone and he’s positioning himself between your legs, his tongue in your mouth, one hand cradling your jaw as the other guides his cock to where you are slick and aching and aware of an emptiness that has never felt so dire.

He’s so big…

But you are determined to take all of him. You don’t care if there’s pain, if there’s fear. You want to feel what it’s like to be with him before it’s too late.

Aemond presses himself against you, rolls his hips cautiously…and nothing happens. He is a bit more forceful. There is immense pressure, then the beginning of a stretching that is sharp, searing, dreadful, unfamiliar in a way that is completely disorienting. You gasp before you can stop yourself; a wince ripples across your face too quickly to camouflage. Aemond shakes his head and climbs off you, settling beside you on the bed.

“Fuck,” you exhale in frustration, slapping a palm down on the mattress. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand why…why I’m like this…”

“Shh,” Aemond soothes, kissing you. “It’s okay, it’s fine. I’ll help you finish and then we can try again later.”

“Why isn’t this easier?”

“You’re just nervous,” he says gently, smoothing your hair back from your face, like it’s no big deal, like he’s pointing out a bird or a rabbit or the shape of a cloud.

“I don’t feel nervous.”

“It’s not always conscious, sometimes the body reacts without the mind even being aware of it. You tense up and things become…more challenging. But fortunately for us, the treatment is very enjoyable. We just keep messing around and working up to it until one day you’re so aroused and so relaxed that I can glide in without any discomfort whatsoever, and then your body adjusts to this glorious new experience and you aren’t so nervous anymore.”

“Can’t you just…you know…sorry, this isn’t very romantic, but like…shove it in?”

“I could, sure,” Aemond says. “If I was a horrible person. And then you’d learn to associate sex with pain, which would just exacerbate the situation.”

“The problem, you mean.”

He smiles patiently. “You aren’t a problem. We’ll figure it out, we have time.”

Do we? You stare morosely up at the ceiling, shadows of clouds, shades of wings. “I should have hooked up with that Marine at Corpus Christi. Then I’d have practice. I was so afraid of giving a man the power to hurt me or get me pregnant or otherwise ruin my life, but I didn’t know I’d meet you one day. And now I just want everything to be easy for us, and it isn’t.”

“Hey.” Aemond turns your face towards his. “For me, you are…” He struggles to decide on the words, his eye drifting to the window, sunlight turning the blue of his iris to a shallow, glass-clear river. “You’re like an island, and everything else is a sea of poison, and violence, and catastrophically fucked up situations, and when we’re alone together it all goes away for a little while. The world gets quiet. It’s never been like that for me before. I don’t mind if it takes time for us to figure this out. I just want to be with you.”

“What happens when we get to Nevada, and you’re supposed to turn south for the Bay Area while I go north to Oregon?”

Aemond shrugs, but his expression is contemplative. “I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe we’ll all stay together and go to one place, then the other. If Odessa is safe, I can bring my parents, Criston, and Grandfather there. If it isn’t, we can bring Rio’s family south and live in California in that beach house on the cliff.”

“I never thought I’d set foot in a mansion.”

“I never thought I’d eat opossum.”

You laugh and curl up against him, resting your head and a palm on his chest. “How was it?”

“Not too bad, actually. Kind of like dark meat chicken. A little gamey, but I like lamb and venison, so that’s fine with me.”

“Just wait until you try bear.”

“Bear?!”

There is a knock at the bedroom door. Luke’s bashful voice is muted through the wood. “Aemond?”

“Yeah?” Aemond replies impatiently.

This was not an invitation, but Luke doesn’t seem to know that. He opens the door, and as he does Aemond throws the blanket over you so you’re covered, leaving himself completely exposed.

Luke begins: “I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to bother you, but…” His eyes go wide. “Oh, you’re like, all the way naked.” He turns and stares at the wall to be polite. “If it’s a bad time, I could come back in five minutes. Do you need more than five minutes? Wait, that was rude, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sure you can last way longer than five minutes…um…”

Aemond sighs. “What’s wrong, Luke?”

“Jace is sick.”

“Sick?” Aemond sits up straighter, his eye narrowing. “Sick how?”

“He’s been puking since he woke up.”

You and Aemond exchange a startled glance as you clutch the edges of a blanket patterned with wild horses. Illness, virus, plague, curse.

“He hasn’t been bitten or anything,” Luke says quickly. “So it can’t be…you know…that. And he and Baela don’t seem that worried. But you should probably take a look at him.”

Aemond nods, less alarmed now. “I agree. Can I get those five minutes first?”

Luke smiles. “Yeah. See you downstairs.” He leaves and shuts the door behind him.

You look to Aemond. “Why—?”

He yanks the blanket away and drags you towards him. “I said I was going to help you finish,” he says, grinning, a hand slipping between your thighs.

You bite at his lips when he kisses you and tease: “I don’t need your help.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t. But it’s better when I’m here.”

And he’s right; it is.

~~~~~~~~~~

Daeron is out on the front porch sharpening sticks into arrows and using goose feathers for fletching, attaching them to the wood with a tube of Gorilla Glue that Helaena found for him. Helaena herself is presently floating through the house—soundlessly, ethereally, traceless like a ghost—and partaking in what you all call “apocalypse shopping,” pilfering the clothes and accessories of the former occupants. She seems to know everyone’s sizes without needing to ask. Aegon, Rio, and Cregan are sitting in the living room and eating pancakes off paper plates, carelessly spilling Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup on hideous 1970s couches ornamented with scenes of pheasants and autumn leaves. Down on the Turkish-style area rug, Ice is merrily chomping her way through a stack of burnt pancakes.

“So Cregan,” Rio says, his bare feet propped on the coffee table. “What did you do before the whole zombie situation?”

“I was a lumberjack.”

“No way!”

“Yes sir. I cut down trees for the power company.”

“What a coincidence,” Rio says around a mouthful of pancakes. “I was an electrician!”

“Well how about that? We oughta go into business together once the world straightens itself out. Where’d you work?”

“All over. Wherever the Navy sent us.”

Cregan sets his fork down on his plate. “You were enlisted?”

“Yeah, me and Chips both. That’s how we met.”

Cregan, much to Rio’s surprise, seizes his hand and shakes it soberly. “Thank you very kindly for your service.”

“No problem,” Rio replies, then turns to Aegon. “No gratitude from you, huh?”

“I showed my gratitude when I let you have the last pancake, you ogre…”

In the only bedroom on the first floor, down a hallway and towards the back of the house, Jace looks worse than you expected. He is heaving into a reusable plastic popcorn bucket, gluey ropes of saliva dangling from his lips; his skin is pale and bloodless, his dark curls damp with sweat. Baela is perched beside him on the bed and holding a wet washcloth to the back of his neck. Rhaena and Luke are loitering anxiously in the doorway, watching Aemond to determine if they should panic.

Jace casts you a bitter glance. “You poisoned me with your poor people food.”

“There’s nothing wrong with eating opossum,” you say, somewhat defensively.

Aemond feels his forehead. “That wouldn’t give you a fever. And everyone else is fine.”

“Maybe I’m extra sensitive. My digestive system has higher standards. I’m built different.” Jace resumes retching into the bucket.

Baela tells Aemond: “He can’t keep anything down. There’s nothing left in him, but he’s still so sick…it has to be a stomach flu, right?”

“Who would he have caught it from?” Luke asks, and Baela doesn’t have an answer.

“Stand up,” Aemond orders Jace when his wave of nausea abates. “Strip down.”

“Aemond, he wasn’t bitten,” Baela says. “I saw his whole body last night. He doesn’t have any scratches or bruises or anything.”

“Fine. But I want to see for myself.”

Jace stumbles out of the bed, pushing away Baela’s hands as she tries to stop him. “Okay, Nick Fury. If you wish to gaze upon the goods, I won’t deny you. I’m not shy.” Aemond rolls his eye. You turn around to give Jace privacy. “What’s the matter, Chips? The only dick you’re interested in belongs to Mike Wazowski over there?”

“Jace,” Baela says, but she’s chuckling. Amused, you stare at a picture on the wall—a haloed Jesus guiding a flock of lambs—as Jace sheds his clothing and follows Aemond’s instructions: lift your arm, turn around, show me the bottoms of your feet.

“No bites,” Aemond confirms, deep in thought. “But the symptoms…”

“It’s not that, Aemond, I’m telling you,” Jace insists, rasping breaths between each clause. “Listen, I got sick when I was alone, before I found you guys again. My stomach, my head. Maybe it’s the same thing now. It didn’t last long, and I thought I was over it, but I guess not.”

“People don’t get better and then worse again after they’ve been bitten,” Rhaena observes softly. “They just get worse.”

Jace lies back down on the bed, his face crumbling with pain. Baela uses the wet washcloth to cool his cheeks and neck. “My head hurts so fucking bad…”

“Because you’re dehydrated,” Aemond says.

“Helaena brought pills, but every time I try to take one I throw it up before it can start working.” There is a gurgling sound in his guts, and then a horrified expression. “Baela, I gotta get outside again.” She and Luke immediately swoop in, grab one arm each, and usher him out of the bedroom, through the back door of the farmhouse, and into the cornfield to allow him some semblance of dignity.

Rhaena gives you and Aemond an awkward smirk. “Helaena found Jace a 24-pack of Angel Soft toilet paper in the basement. So there’s some good news.”

“He needs electrolytes,” Aemond says. “We can’t let him get so dehydrated that his kidneys shut down. IV fluids aren’t an option. Pedialyte would be the next best thing, Gatorade or Powerade if that’s all we can find.”

“We passed a pharmacy on our way here,” Rhaena recalls. “It’s only a mile back, I think.”

Aemond nods. “Then that’s where I’m going,” he says, and walks out of the room.

You say as you follow him: “I want to go with you.”

“No.” Aemond points to Rio, who is now playing Uno with Aegon on the coffee table in the living room. “You and I are going to a pharmacy to get Pedialyte for Jace so he doesn’t die.”

“Cool,” Rio says, standing and fetching his Remington shotgun from where he propped it against the wall. “What’s wrong with him?”

“We don’t know. Maybe food poisoning.”

Aegon says, a hand pressed to his heart: “Personally, I loved the opossum.”

You stare defiantly up at Aemond. “If Rio is going, I have to go too.”

“Aww, so you can protect me?” Rio teases fondly, patting your back with one monstrous palm, an unintentional battering.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Rio looks at Aemond. Aemond looks at you, touching his chin agitatedly. “You are stressing me out.”

“I’m the best shot. I want to be there in case anything happens.”

“Fine, okay, whatever you want. Just stay near Rio.”

“That’s the idea.”

“A pharmacy?” Aegon asks excitedly. “Can I go?”

“No,” Aemond snaps, and continues out onto the porch. In the gravel driveway, Cregan and Daeron are kneeling by the Tahoe and inspecting the front tire on the driver’s side. “What’s wrong now?” Aemond asks, exasperated.

“Got a flat,” Cregan says. “The little fella here noticed it.”

Daeron is mortified. “Please don’t call me that.”

Aemond peers around mistrustfully, out at the road, into the cornfield. “Someone sabotaged us?”

Cregan shakes his head and taps the tire. “Naw, we just ran over a nail yesterday. You can see it right here. A big one too, a masonry nail, I suspect.”

“Can you fix it?” Rio asks.

“I think so. I saw a jack and a lug wrench hanging up on the wall in the barn, now I just need a new tire, a real one. A spare wouldn’t do us much good, not with all the weight we’re carrying. It’d pop in twenty miles.” Cregan gestures to the main road, but westward, the opposite direction from the pharmacy. “Don’t remember seeing a tire place on our way in. Figured I’d try the other direction. I’ll walk ‘til I find a shop or a truck with the right kind of tires to steal from, whichever comes first. Can’t change a tire on gravel, though. I’ll have to drive the Tahoe out to the road and fix it there. I’m gonna need Rhaena’s keys.”

There is an uneasy lull as Aemond studies him. You, Rio, Daeron, and Aegon—who is lingering on the front porch, not yet ready to admit defeat—glance between them apprehensively. Ice is rolling around in the gravel, coating her grey fur with dust. “How do I know you won’t take off without us?”

Cregan’s face goes dark. His brow, heavy and furrowed, settles low over his eyes. “Look buddy, I’ve done a lot of things for you and your people that I didn’t have to. And now I’m fixing the Tahoe so it can take you west, someplace you decided we’re going. If you don’t trust me, do it yourself. Kill your own opossum. Change your own flat tire. But you can’t, can you? Just like I can’t shoot a zombie straight through the eye or tell you how to cure that sick boy in there. We’ve all got jobs here. Let me do mine.”

Aemond glowers at Cregan, knowing he’s right. Daeron averts his eyes; Rio, grinning, eats a handful of Cheddar Whales from a pocket of his cargo shorts. You lay a palm on Aemond’s forearm. “Aemond…he’s trying to help.”

“Sure,” Aemond replies crossly.

“You want collateral?” Cregan says. “Take my dog.” He whistles, and Ice scampers to his side. He points to you. “Go on, princess.” Ice obediently trots over to stand with you, shaggy ash-colored fur, bestial amber eyes like a rattlesnake’s. “She’ll look after you on your way to the pharmacy and back. And if the Tahoe and I have mysteriously vanished upon your return, you can eat her for dinner.”

“You don’t want a warning if you’re about to run into zombies?” Rio asks.

Cregan chuckles as he picks up his axe off the gravel. “Don’t you worry about me. We haven’t heard a peep since we got into town, and I’m just going a little ways up the road. Any less than ten of those abominations, and I can take care of myself.” He gives you and Rio a parting salute and strides into the farmhouse to collect the Tahoe keys from Rhaena.

Aemond turns to Daeron. “Stay here, keep watch. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Daeron nods, glancing to where his compound bow rests on the front porch. “Got it.”

“Aegon will help you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Aegon says. “I want to go to the pharmacy too.”

Aemond is losing what remains of his patience. “No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Then can you at least bring me something back?”

Rio is confounded. “What do you need?”

“You know…” Aegon gestures vaguely. “Percocet, Vicodin, Oxy, maybe some of that cough syrup with the codeine in it—”

“Grow the fuck up,” Aemond flares, and Aegon falls silent. “You’re thirty years old. Take some goddamn responsibility for something, for anything. I have to go to the pharmacy, Cregan has to fix the Tahoe, someone has to stay here with Daeron to help protect Jace and Baela, and Luke and Rhaena, and Helaena too. Just shut up and do the right thing. You have to start acting like an adult. Who do you think is in charge if I get killed? I’ve never for a single day of my life had the luxury of making selfish choices, and now I feel like I’m not even allowed to die. Leaving everyone else with you would be like leaving them with nobody.”

Aegon gazes up at him, not offended but childishly, mortally wounded. His oceanic eyes are huge and glistening. “But you’re not going to die before me.”

“That’s not the point,” Aemond pitches back, cutting, caustic. Then he starts down the long gravel driveway towards the road. You give Aegon a small, apologetic half-smile and then follow after his younger brother, Ice loping alongside you.

Rio thumps Aegon encouragingly on one shoulder. “See you soon, Honey Bun.” And Aegon watches the three of you disappear, standing in the dazzling midday light with his arms folded over his chest and his hair in hie face, kicking at the gravel with the Sperry Bahama sneakers he once wore on yachts and golf courses.

“Please try to be nice to him,” you tell Aemond when you’re far enough away to be out of earshot. Rio is humming a song you don’t immediately recognize—probably Enrique Iglesias—and acting like he’s not listening. “You don’t know how much longer any of us have. And if that was the last thing you ever said to him, you’d feel awful about it.”

“You have no idea what it was like being his brother. Since I was born all I’ve done is try to plug the holes he blasts into ships. But there’s always water on the floor, I’m never done bailing it out. He needs to learn how to do things for himself.”

“Yes, he does. But he loves you, and he wants you to be happy. He would never intentionally take anything from you. He’ll grow into his purpose, whatever that is.”

“He needs to do it faster,” Aemond says harshly, and you walk the rest of the way without speaking, listening for snarling or lurching footsteps, hearing nothing but birdsong and wind whispering through leaves.

The pharmacy—a diminutive family-owned business, not a chain—has been ravaged. The glass of the large bay window has been broken out and the shelves looted, empty containers and wrappers littering the floor, crystalline shards threatening to gash, stab, infect.

“Stay out here with the dog,” Aemond tells you. Ice is panting calmly, her ears relaxed, her strange yellowish eyes taking in the scenery without any concern. “If she gets her paws sliced up, Cregan will have yet another accusation to levy against me.”

“You’re going to have to get used to him.”

“Not much of an adjustment for you, it seems,” Aemond says, then steps through the shattered window, glass crunching beneath his shoes. Rio gives you a wink and goes after him. They rummage through the remaining merchandise, strewn about randomly and interspersed among trash. Aemond peeks behind the counter where pharmacists once filled prescriptions and climbs over it, searching for any bottles or boxes that were left behind.

“Sorry guys, no condoms,” Rio announces, then laughs at his own joke.

“Be careful,” you urge from outside. “Look underneath, check the bottom racks. Rio? Rio, down low, check them!”

“Relax, ain’t nothing going on in here. It’s silent as the grave.” He laughs again. “Get it? As the grave.”

“Aemond?”

“I’m fine,” he tells you as he squints to read medicine bottles.

“Okay, okay,” Rio says, squatting to examine the shelves closest to the cluttered floor. “I’m checking all the racks. There’s nothing scary under the racks. Happy now?”

“Very. Helaena said something that freaked me out.”

“She can be a bit of an enigma,” Aemond admits. He is taking a tiny box from a drawer to keep.

“Oh, we got Pedialyte!” Rio says, yanking a jug of pink fluid from a pile of debris. “You think Jace likes strawberry?”

Aemond hurries over to help him hunt for more. “Yeah. It’s like a Twizzler, right?”

Ice noses your hand and whimpers softly. You look down at her. “What?”

She whirls and canters around the side of the pharmacy, then returns to make sure you’re keeping up. You go after her, slow and wary, a hand on one of your Beretta M9s. There’s nothing of note to be found in the narrow, shadowy alleyway other than an overflowing dumpster and two skeletons stripped of every shred of fabric and flesh; even the bones were licked clean.

You turn to Ice. “Did I need to see this?” She whines and shifts her weight from foot to foot, ears perked up. Something else? You look down the alleyway. Far behind the pharmacy and the shops that surround it is a church on a jade green slope, old-fashioned, white wood and a belltower. There is a cemetery beside it, and amidst the small grey blurs of headstones are… “Oh,” you breathe. “So that’s where the rest of the town is.”

The graveyard is full of limp, swaying figures that can only be zombies. You are far away and draped in shadows; you retreat back to the pharmacy without any indication that you’ve been spotted, Ice trailing close behind. Aemond and Rio are climbing out of the window just as you arrive. They are each carrying three jugs of Pedialyte in various flavors.

“Where the hell’d you go?” Aemond says; but he sounds more relieved than irritated.

“There’s a church about an eight of a mile away. And there are a lot of zombies in the cemetery.”

Rio sets his Pedialyte down on the sidewalk and reaches for the Remington 12 gauge hanging over his shoulder by its leather strap. “Okay, let’s go clear them out.”

“No, I mean a lot. Like a hundred.”

He freezes. “Oh.”

“We should leave town,” you say.

“While Jace is puking and shitting everywhere? You want to be stuck in a car with that?”

Aemond is thinking, toying with the little box you saw him pick up earlier. “We’ll leave as soon as we can.”

“What’s that?” you ask him.

He shows you the label. “Injectable morphine. All the pills were gone, but I found one vial of this, and I have syringes in my medical kit. It doesn’t need to be refrigerated. It should still be useable.”

“For Baela?” For when she delivers the baby?

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Just in case.” Then he looks at both you and Rio meaningfully. “Don’t tell Aegon I have this.”

“We won’t,” Rio promises. And Ice begins trotting back towards the farmhouse, as if trying to rush you along.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tahoe is at the mouth of the long gravel driveway, still up on a hand-cranked scissor jack. The tire appears to be new, but the lug nuts haven’t been tightened, and the wrench is nowhere to be found.

“Cregan?” Rio says uncertainly, peeking through the cornstalks as they bend in the wind. “Hey, Cregan? Aemond’s sorry he was a bitch to you earlier. He wants you to return ASAP and do manual labor for him.” Aemond grimaces; Rio beams in reply. But Cregan does not appear.

You can hear them long before you reach the farmhouse, muffled chaotic chattering, raised voices and rushing footsteps. As you ascend the steps of the front porch, Rhaena bursts through the door.

“Thank God you’re back,” she says; there is blood on her hands. “It’s Jace, he…he…come look at him. Aemond, you have to do something. He’s sick, he’s really sick. He’s bleeding.”

“From where?” Aemond asks, urgent, bewildered.

“From everywhere,” Rhaena replies, and beckons for him to follow.

The bedsheets Jace is swathed in are blooming with crimson, flowers of doomed gore. Blood drips from his nostrils and his eyes; when he retches into the popcorn bucket, clots of pink and red spew out. Everyone is gathered around him and speaking at the same time, except Helaena. She is crouched on the floor of the hallway just outside his room, her arms wrapped around her bent knees and her face stricken. Ice curls up beside her.

Above the other voices, Baela screams at Aemond, a desperate horrified moan: “What’s wrong with him?!”

Aemond pushes by the others and feels Jace’s forehead, then grabs his wrist to measure his pulse. As Aemond’s fingers tighten, Jace’s skin rips beneath them, the top layer sliding off and leaving only glistening, raw pink. Jace howls, tears of blood streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t know,” Aemond says, his voice unsteady.

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know?!” Baela shouts back. “You’re a doctor! Fix him!”

“It hurts, Aemond,” Jace gasps, fresh blood on his teeth. When Baela touches his hair, locks of it fall out into her hand.

“He’s turning, right?” Rio says to you. “This is what happened to Snowflake, the blood and the skin and everything—?”

“He wasn’t bitten!” Luke insists, positioned in front of Jace’s bed as if he’s guarding it.

“I don’t care if we can’t find a bite mark, he’s decomposing for Christ’s sake, what the fuck else could it be?!”

Daeron returns with more blankets and towels. Aegon grabs a strawberry Pedialyte out of Rio’s grasp and tries to help Jace drink it. Cregan is muttering: “I ain’t never seen anything like this…”

Decomposing, you think dizzily. He wasn’t bitten, but he’s falling apart…what else does that to a person?

Baela cleans blood from his lips, a towel turning from snow to rubies. “Jace, baby, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to help you…”

“Could it be rat poison or something?” Cregan is saying. “Rabies? Mad cow disease? Ebola?”

“How the fuck do you think he got Ebola?!” Aemond exclaims. “You think he took a jet to sub-Saharan Africa when he was on his own? Use your brain.”

“I’m just trying to come up with ideas here, doc, and I don’t see you with any bright ones!”

He’s decomposing. He’s decomposing.

And then you remember. You kneel down beside the bed so you can look into his face, so you can make him pay attention. “Jace, listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” he replies faintly. He coughs, wet and gurgling. Fresh blood paints his lips. There are blisters beginning to form up and down his arms, you see now, the skin bubbling and separating.

“Jace, do you remember Three Mile Island?”

“What the fuck.” He is baffled, dismissive. “Three Mile what? Huh? What are you talking about…?”

“You’re upsetting him,” Baela says fiercely, tears glittering in her eyes.

But you are determined. “Outside of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, after we left Fort Indiantown Gap. There were these huge concrete cooling towers. We saw them from the Wawa parking lot.” But he wasn’t there when we talked about radiation. He was still inside searching for guns. “Remember, Jace? Do you remember?”

Now Aemond and Rio are looking at you, petrified, realizing what you must be thinking. No one else understands yet. After a long pause, Jace nods feebly. “Yeah. I remember the towers.”

“Good,” you say, smiling to encourage him. “Okay, this is important. After we lost you at the river, before you found us again, did you see anywhere that looked like Three Mile Island?”

“Yeah,” Jace murmurs as he stares back at you with glazed, bloody eyes; and Rio sighs and shakes his head. “I drove right by it on the Honda. The sign said Byron.”

And it’s been over for him since that moment.

“Alright, Jace.” You want to touch him, to embrace him or cup his cheek. You know it will only make his suffering worse. “Thank you. That’s all I wanted to ask.” He begins to gag again, and Baela hurries to place the popcorn bucket so it can catch his liquefying organs. You turn around and walk through the doorway.

“What’s happening?” Aegon asks you, hushed voice, frantic eyes. He has followed you to the living room, along with Aemond, Rio, and Cregan. You nod to Aemond. He knows.

“It’s radiation sickness,” Aemond says, low and bleak.

“What?!” Aegon gapes at him. “I mean, are you sure…?”

“It fits all the symptoms. He was in close proximity to a nuclear power plant, something the rest of us have intentionally avoided. If there was a meltdown, there are miles and miles that are poisoned with radiation. Passing by on a motorcycle could definitely result in a lethal dose.”

“Poor guy,” Rio says. “Not a good way to go.”

“No,” you agree. It isn’t.

“So how do you treat something like that?” Cregan asks Aemond.

“It can’t be treated,” Aemond replies tersely. “Not here, not by me, not by anyone. Not even if the world was normal again.”

“What do you mean it can’t be treated?! Everything can be treated nowadays! Cancer, heart attacks, diabetes, hell, my cousin got testicular cancer and he was fine a month later, he even got to keep one of his balls!”

“Radiation sickness can’t be treated. He’s going to die.”

“But how is that possible when—?!”

“I need you to try to not be stupid for five minutes,” Aemond snaps.

You say quietly: “He’s not stupid, Aemond. He just doesn’t know about this.”

“You are always defending him.”

“Because not going to med school isn’t a character flaw.”

Cregan asks mildly, looking at Aemond: “Could you explain it to me?”

“It’s pennies in a jar, man,” Rio says. “Radiation stacks up and at a certain point it kills you. It destroys your DNA and your body falls apart. You can get it just by going near someplace contaminated, and you might not even feel it happen. And there’s no way to undo the damage. The pennies never leave the jar.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at Aemond. “Was that so difficult?”

Aemond ignores him. “We have to tell Jace,” he says instead.

Back in the bedroom—a mineral stench in the air, coppery blood and the salt of sweat—Aegon sits on the edge of the bed and takes one of Jace’s swelling, blistering hands carefully in his own.

“Don’t hold my hand, you loser.” Jace mumbles, and Aegon respectfully releases him.

“Jace,” Aegon begins. “We think you have radiation sickness.”

Jace blinks up at him, wincing and disoriented. “Which means…?”

“Which means, um, it’s going to be…not great.”

“Why are you the person explaining this?”

“You’re right, I really shouldn’t be explaining it. Can someone else explain it…?” Aegon glances around hopefully.

“Jace,” Aemond says. “Those cooling towers you drove by were part of a nuclear power plant that melted down when the power grid collapsed. You received a fatal dose of radiation. It’s the only thing that explains what’s happening to you.”

“Fatal…?” Daeron ventures.

Rhaena gasps and reaches for Luke. Baela’s face is a mask of numb shock. Jace stares up at Aemond for a long time before he speaks. “Aemond, fix me.”

Aemond’s words are brittle and fracturing. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Stop fucking around, man, you’re a doctor. You can fix me. I know you can. You’re a genius. You’re a total freak but you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Give me the pills, give me the shots. Cut me open if you have to. I won’t scream, I promise. Fix me. I trust you.”

“Jace, I can’t do anything. No one can.”

“I have to meet the baby, Aemond,” Jace whispers, scarlet tears bleeding down his cheeks. “I have to be here for Baela and Luke. Fix me, man. I’ll do anything you tell me to.”

“Jace,” Aemond says, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I can’t help you.”

Jace looks to Baela, Luke, Rhaena, and at last back to Aemond. “How long?”

“Not very. A few days, maybe.”

“Days?” he echoes, dazed. “What happens?”

Aemond shakes his head. You don’t want to know.

“Yeah I do. Tell me.”

Aemond can’t respond; clear silent tears snake down the right side of his face. Rio answers for him. “You continue to bleed out of every orifice and the rest of your skin falls off. And eventually you die.”

Jace breaks down in sobs. “I was trying to find you guys.”

Suddenly, Baela turns to you and Rio and Aemond, wrathful, hissing. “This is your fault.”

Aemond pleads: “Baela, please don’t—”

“You made me leave him at the river. I knew he was still alive, but you forced me to leave him. If he’d been with us, this never would have happened. But he was alone, and it was because of you. You did this to him. You stole him from me.”

Rhaena tries to console her. “Baela, no one meant to—”

“I just got him back!” she screams, and then shelters Jace in her arms as he clings to her, the skin of his fingers and palms flaking at the pressure, holding onto her anyway. No one knows what to say; everyone has tears burning in their eyes and embers in their throats. “Get out,” Baela demands. “Leave us alone. This is the last time I’ll ever have with him and it’s your fucking fault. So get out.”

And you leave them to their final moments, failing flesh in a dying world.

~~~~~~~~~~

Only Luke and Rhaena flit in and out of the bedroom, carrying soiled linens and the plastic popcorn bucket to be periodically emptied. The rest of you are engrossed in a grim, thunderstruck deathwatch in the living room. You discuss the inevitable in hushed murmurs. It is cruel to let Jace suffer; it is unspeakably horrible to let Baela witness it. Ice alternates between receiving scratches from Cregan, Helaena, and Aegon, never trying to enter Jace’s room. You can hear Jace and Baela talking in there, his retching and groaning, her sobs.

It is not until dusk that Rhaena summons Aemond. Luke is weeping as he paces back and forth in the bedroom. Baela is still sitting on the bed with Jace, resigned now. She does not apologize, but she doesn’t have any more venom to spit either. The rest of you watch from the hallway, keeping a respectful distance. Ice nudges your hand with her nose, but you ignore her. Jace’s bloody eyes roll to Aemond.

“I’m keeping you here, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Aemond replies. There’s no point in lying.

“And I don’t need to feel myself melting like this for days. I get the idea.” Jace looks at Aemond for a while. His voice is anemic but calm; there are fresh blisters on his face and neck. “What can you give me?”

Aemond opens his medical kit and shows Jace the vial of morphine. “I found this at the pharmacy today. It would be painless, like going to sleep and never waking up.”

“Why do you have that?”

“I was thinking a small amount might help Baela during labor.”

“Is it the only morphine in your kit?”

“Yes.”

Jace nods. “Save it for Baela.” His gaze drops to the Glock in the holster at Aemond’s waist. “Can I borrow that?”

Rhaena stifles a dismayed yelp. Baela closes her eyes, but does not protest. Aemond says: “I don’t think you want to do this.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Cyclops,” Jace says, smiling. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“It’s heavy,” Aemond warns. He clicks off the safety and gives the Glock to Jace. “Are you able to use it by yourself?”

“It’s a very simple two-step process. Barrel to skull, finger on the trigger. I think I’ll manage.”

Again, Ice bumps her nose against your knuckles; again, you barely notice. Baela kisses Jace on the mouth, her lips coming away bloody. Rhaena says goodbye to him, then Luke, whispered parting words you don’t try to listen to. Before Aemond exits, Jace grasps his hand.

“Take care of my family, Aemond.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let the zombies eat me afterwards.”

And then it becomes real. Aemond’s composure falters. “Jace…I’m so sorry…”

“Go,” Jace urges him. Then there is a coughing fit, fresh blood and pieces of stomach and lungs. “Right now. Before I lose my nerve.”

Baela is the last one to leave the bedroom; she shuts the door behind her. Almost immediately afterwards is a deafening bang. Baela sinks to the floor and wails, one hand on her belly, the other embracing Rhaena and Luke when they rush to her. Ice is whining and pawing at the floor, her nails screeching on the hardwood. Aemond alone returns to Jace’s bedroom and reappears with his Glock. He places it back in his holster, his scarred face vacant. There’s blood on his fingers, you see. Jace’s blood, the last he’ll ever shed. Aemond hasn’t noticed yet.

You reach for Aemond’s hand; he flinches away. You ask him, pained: “Do you think if you don’t touch me, it won’t hurt you when I die?”

“Please don’t say that,” Aemond responds in a hoarse, splintering whisper.

Ice yowls, and Cregan is abruptly aware of her. “Oh shit, the Tahoe is still up on the jack. I’ll go get it.” He opens the front door. Under the moonlight, there are upwards of a hundred zombies stumbling down the long gravel driveway. Everyone begins screaming. Cregan slams the door shut and shoves one of the couches in front of it. “What now?!”

“We go through the cornfield,” Aemond says as you are all frantically gathering your sparse possessions. “It will be more difficult for them to see us. We kill as many as we can and we make our way to the Tahoe. Cregan, how long will it take you to get it ready to drive?”

“Maybe a minute. But I’ll need someone to spot me while I tighten the lug nuts.”

“Sounds like my kind of job opportunity,” Rio says, pumping his Remington. Helaena gives you a flashlight. Cregan secures the lug wrench under his belt and picks up his axe. Rhaena has her Ruger out and is telling Baela to breathe, to stay focused, to let her and Luke lead the way.

Aemond comes to you and leans in close so the others can’t hear. “How many bullets do you have left?”

“Not enough. Maybe fifty.”

“Do what you can. Stay near Rio.”

“I’ll try.”

Now there are zombies at the front windows, beating their spongy swamp-colored palms against the glass. Baela, Rhaena, and Luke are leaving through the back door with Daeron; you can hear the whizzing of his arrows and the sick soft sound they make when they pierce rotting meat. Under the weight of so many hands, one of the living room windows pops from its frame and clatters against the floor. You open fire, bullets exploding skulls and spraying brains, corpses jolting and then diving to the ground. You shoot until both M9s are empty, then pause to reload, boxes of bullets that Cregan gave you back in Iowa.

“Let them in,” Helaena says.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Aegon shouts at her. He’s firing his Marlin .22 beside you, quite poorly; Rio and Aemond are in the backyard killing any zombies that find their way towards the cornfield. “We’re not letting them get through the house!”

“Not through,” Helaena says placidly. “In.”

“Oh.” Aegon understands. “Oh! I get it! Trap them inside!” He races to the kitchen and tears the remaining bottles of Grey Goose vodka out of the cabinet, then begins spilling them onto the wood floor. “Helaena, give me a lighter.”

She places one in his outstretched palm and then leaves with Cregan as he escorts her away, leading her by her fragile hand. They vanish together into the cornfield, Ice on their heels.

“Time to go, Chips!” Rio booms; he can’t be far behind Cregan.

“We’re on our way!”

Zombies are pouring through the front of the house; another window has given way. You pull the trigger over and over again as you move with Aegon towards the backyard, his clear river of vodka drawing a path from one end of the house to the other. You hit the grass before he does, then wait for him by the edge of the cornfield. Aemond and Rio are shouting for Aegon to hurry up. He crosses through the threshold, flicks the lighter to life, and throws it into the house. His plan works—the farmhouse is abruptly aflame, cooking zombies like long-spoiled hams—but he neglected to realize that in his haste, he had also accidentally doused his own left leg and Sperry Bahama sneaker. The fire licks up over Aegon’s skin and blazes there radiantly. He shrieks and falls to the ground. Rio yanks his own shirt off and uses it to smother the inferno, then throws Aegon over one shoulder to carry him.

“Go to Cregan!” Rio tells Aemond, shoving him in the direction of the Tahoe. Rio will be slower now, but no one else could still run with Aegon’s added weight. “You and Daeron spot him until I get there!” When Aemond is gone, Rio glances back at you.

“I’m fine,” you say, felling zombies as they round the house. “Get Aegon to the car!” And Rio listens to you like he always does, vanishing with Aegon through the cornfield.

You weave through the leafy stalks, investigating each growl and rustling with the beam of your flashlight. Grotesque, fetid faces plunge through the greenery, and you demolish them. You’re in the rhythm now, wheeling for a target and locking in, squeezing the trigger and watching ghoulish faces disappear. And then you spy a zombie lurching towards you from fifteen feet away, a twenty-something in a red Nebraska Cornhuskers t-shirt making her way down the dirt aisle between two rows of corn; and when you pull the trigger, there is only a dry click in reply. Your other M9 is already empty. You’ve used all the ammo Cregan gave you.

“I’m out of bullets,” you say, but no one hears you; you are alone. Aemond always told you to stay near Rio and you never did. Too late, you realize what an oversight that has been. “Rio? Aemond?!”

There are human voices and gunshots, but reverberating from a distance. Far closer are snarls and groans of the dead. You click off your flashlight, drop to the earth, and crawl until you are as far under a row of corn as you can be, long leaves tickling the back of your neck and damp soil in your nostrils. Clumsy, lumbering footsteps trod by you. From the road, you hear the Tahoe’s engine start with a rumble.

They’re leaving.

You shake your head, here with no one to see you in the dark. Still, the thought persists.

They’re leaving. I left my family and now my family is leaving me.

“Chips, stay where you are!” Rio shouts. “We’re coming back, we’ll find you!”

You wait until they are within ten feet of you, Rio cracking skulls with his Remington—he must be out of bullets too—and Aemond firing his Glock. “I’m here, I’m here!” you cry, and they are lifting you up from the dirt and dragging you towards Tahoe, and Aemond puts his pistol in your hand knowing you can do more good with it. You fire ten rounds before the Glock is empty, and you think with terror: Do any of us have bullets left?

Then you are being helped into the Tahoe, and the second all the doors are shut Rhaena floors the gas pedal, heading west on State Route 92.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I got my drugs after all,” Aegon rasps as Aemond injects him with morphine on the floor of a laundromat on the edge of Merna, Nebraska, far enough to escape the zombies, not so far that the Tahoe risks running out of gas before you reach the next town. His left leg is burned from the knee down, and burned badly: skin, fat, muscle, blood-red scorched ruin. Even through the modest dose of morphine—Aemond is terrified of accidentally killing him—Aegon can still feel what has happened to him. He knows it’s bad. He knows it could be the last mistake he ever makes. “I’m so thirsty…”

“I got you, Honey Bun,” Rio says, and then uses the butt of his Remington to bust open the vending machines and bring him bottles of Powerade. Baela is sobbing in the corner with Luke and Rhaena. Helaena is shining a flashlight on Aegon’s leg so Aemond can see. Daeron and Cregan are keeping watch by the entrance. You don’t even know why. All the bullets and arrows are gone, Aegon can’t walk, the Tahoe’s gas tank is nearly drained. If you are descended upon now, what will you do?

Aegon sobs and clutches for you, links his arms around your waist, rests his head in your lap. You hold him and comb your fingers through his unruly hair over and over again, like a compulsion, like a ritual. You are so afraid to let go of him. You are terrified he’ll disappear.

I wish I knew what to say. I never know what to say.

He’s shaking uncontrollably as Aemond cleans his leg: peeling away dead skin, wiping down the raw flesh with disinfectant. Aegon’s eyes are wide and glassy. There is blood on the white tile floor, pinkish lymph fluid, bits of charred skin. Ice is whimpering, her muzzle propped on her paws and her eyes darting around the room. Aegon manages through the pain, a reedy, gasping whisper: “Tell me about all those places you went when you were in the Navy.”

You can see it like the miles-deep blue of his eyes: the Indian Ocean, the jewel-tone equatorial sky. “On Diego Garcia, they have these birds called red-footed boobies—”

Aegon barks out a weak laugh. “They do not. You’re making that up.”

“No, really, I swear! They’re like seagulls, but they have blue on their face and bright red feet, hence the name. They’re extremely stupid, and one night a few of us were hanging out drinking Guinness and playing pool, and a booby flew in through an open window. We panicked, it panicked, and then it was flying in circles and couldn’t get out. We opened all the doors and windows, and the booby still just flew around banging into the walls. And of course the whole time it was shitting and bleeding and getting feathers everywhere, we knew it was going to take hours to clean up. After thirty minutes of chasing this idiot bird around, Rio snapped, took off his boot, and smacked the booby with it. He was trying to fling it out the window, like hitting a tennis ball with a racket, but he accidentally hit the bird too hard and murdered it. Its beak literally separated from its body and flew across the room. None of us could believe it, we didn’t even know that was possible. Rio felt so bad he started crying. We took the booby—and its beak, of course—out to the beach for a Viking funeral. We made it a little raft of coconut tree leaves, set it on fire with a lighter, and pushed it out into the waves.”

Aegon is cackling. “Bryan Osorio, terrorizer of the homicidal undead and boobies!”

“What else?” Baela says, and you look over at her, startled. The flashlight incandescence turns you all to ghosts, phantoms, half-shadows. At first you don’t know what she means. “What else did they have on Diego Garcia?”

“Oh, tell them about the coconut crabs,” Rio prompts you. He’s settled down beside Aegon and is resting one broad hand on his trembling shoulder.

“Coconut crabs?” Rhaena asks you, wiping tears from her cheeks with her delicate, small-boned fingers.

You are abruptly aware that you have an audience. You can feel yourself shrinking beneath their gazes. “Rio should tell the story. I’m not good at it.”

“Sure you are,” Rio says, smiling kindly beneath dark, wet eyes. “Go on. Tell them.”

So you do.

[scientia-rex]

I also spend a lot of time trying to convince people to prevent problems, because prevention still works better than cures. Don't fucking smoke! I would instantly become the best doctor who ever lived if I could just convince all my patients to quit smoking. Avoid alcohol! Don't do meth! Don't do fentanyl! Things that are poisons will poison you in ways you understand, in the short term, but also ways you can't really understand until you've watched dozens of people die from it thirty years later, struggling to breathe from their COPD or weak and nauseated beyond bearing from their end-stage liver disease. I watched a man take 3 weeks in the ICU to die from what meth did to his heart. Your heart isn't meant to beat 145 times a minute for weeks on end. Your liver isn't meant to metabolize 5 shots of gin a day. You aren't going to be able to use denial and willpower to repair the damage your own habits did.

I drink a lot less now than I did before I went into medicine. Lot of different reasons, including that I'm older and more settled. But I can't look at it the same way I used to; I can't brush off as a "fun quirk" what I know is alcohol use on a level that risks withdrawal seizures if they were to suddenly stop, like some of my family members do, nervously asking me about their loved one's drinking when we're alone because beneath the jokes they know it's a problem.

If you're having more than one, maybe two drinks a day on average, over a long period of time, you are damaging your body in ways you don't understand. You're setting up a permanent heightened inflammatory state. Your heart cells don't like alcohol; Google "alcohol-induced cardiomyopathy." Your esophagus and stomach respond to incessant bathing in poison by first developing wounds and then cancer. Your liver, of course, doesn't like it. Your liver not only converts poisons to harmless substances you can excrete, it also makes your platelets, so your blood can clot. It makes albumin, a protein that's essentially for keeping water in your blood vessels and not letting it leach into your tissues. So people who are dying of liver failure are in pain and weak and tired and sad the whole fucking time! And the only solution, a liver transplant, will come with a lifetime of medication and specialist check-ups and the knowledge that if you fuck up and kill this liver, too, no one is going to be eager to give you another try.

I don't guilt-trip my alcoholic patients with liver disease. I don't guilt-trip my smokers with COPD. They chose to cope with substances for reasons, even if I disagree with their reasons, even if those reasons are opaque to me. They will suffer the natural consequences of those actions whether I guilt-trip them or not. I want them to continue to see me, I want them to be honest with me. Other people will lay enough guilt on them. And nothing I can say or do would ever compare to the physical and mental suffering that goes with those diseases.

But if you can prevent these diseases in yourself, prevent them. Quit smoking. Do it now. Your lungs are going to look better starting almost immediately, with positive changes continuing for many years. Drink less alcohol. Sure, it's fun, sure, it's a longstanding human tradition, but it is also unfortunately a straight up poison and your body knows that no matter how persuasively you argue about the obvious failure of Prohibition. You can't argue with a cell. You can't convince your kidneys that high blood pressure shouldn't damage them. They are a system; they do what they do; they existed long before prefrontal cortex existed to justify what we want to do but know to be harmful.