#being a doctor and all but i could see him asking just to be an ass lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itneverendshere · 9 hours

Note

the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”

added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)

death by a thousand cuts - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.

Ward’s sitting at the dining table, barely glancing up from his phone when Rafe walks in. His jaw clenches. That look—so cold, so dismissive—always sets something off in him.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t just a normal night.

Ward doesn’t answer right away, just sighs like Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders. “Your mother called today.”

Rafe freezes.

He doesn’t have to ask which mother. Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom. The one who left.

He tries to stay calm, but he can feel his blood pumping, “What’d she want?”

“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.

When was the last time? A couple of years? Before that? It doesn’t matter.

“No. I’m not doing this again.”

“Rafe—”

“No, I said no.” The anger wells up fast, a familiar burn in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She’s full of shit, dad. She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”

Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that edge in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a little kid who’s stepped out of line. “You’re overreacting. She’s still your mother.”

“My mother?” He lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His fists tighten at his sides. “She left. She fucking left us. She’s not my mother. She’s just some lady who couldn’t handle shit.”

Ward stands up now. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, stepping forward, his anger boiling over. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored or freaked out. And you—you didn’t do shit!.You just let it happen. Let her walk out over and over.”

“That’s enough, Rafe.”

But he's not done.

He’s too pissed to think straight. “What? You gonna defend her? You’re the one who let her fuck me up like this! You—”

“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, his voice rising. "Grow up. She left. And you’re still standing here acting like a child over it.”

Something inside Rafe cracks. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. "A child? You don't get it. You never got it. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing." His mind is spinning, flashing back to all those nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day. He feels like he’s suffocating, the anger burning too fast. “I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”

Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”

“Trying? Trying?!” Rafe grits out, stepping forward. All those years, all those broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the hell he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking family reunion.

“I don’t care what you think about it, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”

“No. No fucking way!” He shouts, his voice shaking as he steps closer to Ward, fists clenched. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into the mess I was. And you—” His chest heaves as he fights to find the words, his throat tight. “You’re just as bad as she is.”

Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “Every time she left, you didn’t do a goddamn thing. You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, leave us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father, just as bad as her."

Ward’s face darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe fires back, stepping even closer, eyes blazing. “You didn’t stop her. You never protected me. You sat there and watched her fuck me up and then turned around and blamed me for it. Like I was the problem.”

“You were the problem,” Ward snaps, “She didn’t know how to handle you, and neither did I. You were a fucking disaster, Rafe. And that’s on you.”

“No. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”

Ward takes a step forward, “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sisters. Sarah wants this. Weezie deserves a chance to know her mother. It’s not all about your issues, Rafe. Grow up.”

“Grow up?” He feels like he’s suffocating, “You think I’m the one who needs to grow up?

“Enough. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”

All the work he's put in, all the shit he's tried to fix, feels like it’s slipping right through his fingers. He can’t be here. Not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. That itch beneath his skin is back after years, that’s how much control his parents have over him.

Rafe’s hands are still shaking as he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. It feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and his thoughts are spinning, they’re all crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.

He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His dad’s voice, cold and cutting, telling him he’s the problem. That he’s always been the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, trembling like he’s about to snap, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: He can’t go to you like this.

The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… this feels different. He can’t let you see him like this—not the old Rafe. Not the one who almost lost everything.

You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.

He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, somewhere he swore he’d never go again. But right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His head’s spinning, his body buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, and he just needs it to stop.

So, he turns the key in the ignition and drives. It doesn’t take long to get to Barry’s. He knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years. He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping faintly from inside. It’s like nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and spilled liquor lingering in the air.

Rafe sits there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, breathing heavy. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that.

He climbs out of the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking, and heads toward the door. The second he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a wave, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.

Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.

“Country Club!”, Barry drawls when he notices him, smirking around the joint. “Now this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d ever see you walk through that door again. Thought you were all clean now, with your pretty little girlfriend.”

He tenses at the mention of you. But he can’t walk out now. Not after what just happened with Ward. Not when everything inside him feels like it’s about to blow.

“I just need something,” Rafe mutters, avoiding Barry’s eyes, already regretting this but not enough to stop.

Barry raises an eyebrow, amused. “Something, huh? You know, you’ve got a real habit of showing up here when you’re all fucked up.” He laughs, low and mocking. “What’s the matter this time? Daddy issues again?”

His jaw tightens. “Just give me what I want.”

Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor. “You sure you wanna go down that road again, man? Thought you were past this shit.”

“I don’t care,” Rafe snaps, his voice low, shaking with frustration and something darker. “You know what I want. Go get it.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, Barry just looks at him, sizing him up. Then, with a shrug, he gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing. About what this means.

Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of Rafe, “Knock yourself out.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bag, his fingers already moving on autopilot as he pulls out his wallet and shoves a roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless. He knows this is going to hurt you, more than anything else. But ll he wants is to forget. Just for a little while.

His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line.

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You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch. The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed.

The day’s been dragging—work was a shitshow, and all you’ve been thinking about is Rafe. You haven’t heard from him since this morning, which isn’t weird, but there’s been this nagging feeling in your chest, like something’s off.

“Hey,” Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water and lean against the counter. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.

“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”

She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”

You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”

“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”

Your stomach drops. Instantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Looked like his truck,” your sister says, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”

But you know better.

A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. You’ve heard Rafe talk about Barry. Back when things were bad—really bad—he was the one who kept him hooked, who kept pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addication and Barry’s name came up more than once.

And if his truck’s outside Barry’s, you know something’s wrong.

It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day.

“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”

Monica frowns, finally understanding. “Oh. Shit. You think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, already pulling out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages. You scroll through the last few texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Except the silence. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.

You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure. “Maybe he was just stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”

But she doesn’t finish, and you don’t need her to. You know what it means. You feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place—And he didn’t come to you. He went to Barry instead.

Why didn’t he come to you?

“I need to go,” you say, your voice coming out more panicked than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Your heart’s racing, your mind is spinning, and the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. You’re grabbing your keys off the counter before your sister can even answer.

“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Monica asks, a bit alarmed now, but you don’t have time to explain.

“I need to find Rafe.”

Your sister steps forward, “Is it really that serious? I mean, maybe he’s just—”

“He’s not just anything,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”

Rafe had told you everything about his past—every ugly detail about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights, the constant mess of it all. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.

And now? He’s slipping. And you weren’t there.

Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t need to numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey.

He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again. But something must’ve happened.

Something big.

Why didn’t he tell you?

The thought is suffocating. You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, but he’s been so careful with you, always making sure you never had to see the side of him that scared him the most. He’s opened up about his struggles with anxiety, about how he sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this… this is different.

This is worse.

It had to be Ward. He’s has always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it messes with him in ways you can barely understand. She’s the one person who could make him spiral, and Ward is the one person who could push him over that edge.

You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.

He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.

You sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, trying to calm yourself down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re even going to say when you see him.

You get out of the car and practically run toward Barry’s door. You know this place, know the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here, when Barry’s dad still ran the business.

You don’t even knock. You push the door open. Barry’s on the couch, looking up lazily when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.

He looks like a ghost.

Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, glaring at him before turning your full attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”

“W-What?”

“Baby, look at you.”

He tries to stand, his movements slow, like his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, his pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying slightly, barely able to keep his balance.

“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, the words slurring together. His hand goes to his hair, but it’s shaking, and he can’t even look at you. “It’s not—”

“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him, his clothes disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.

He stumbles again, trying to step toward you, but he’s so high he can barely stand. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he rasps out, finally meeting your eyes for just a second before looking away. “Didn’t want you to... think I was still... still that guy.”

“You’re not that guy anymore,” you say softly, even though right now, he looks too much like that guy. “But you’re acting like him.”

His head drops, and he looks down at the floor, his shoulders sagging, defeated. “Didn’t know...what else to do.”

“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice breaks on the last word, “You went to Barry instead of me?”

“Hey now—"

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” You almost scream in Barry's face, your chest rising with each breath you take. Rafe can't stand to look you in the eyes right now. He can't see the disappointment.

“You always know what to do. You call me. You come to me. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face like he’s enjoying every second of your heartbreak. “You’re better than this. Get in the car. We can talk about this.”

But he shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”

“Why?”

“Just… too much. Hurts too much.” He looks down, guilt washing over him. “Didn’t want you to see... this.”

“Then get in the car. We can figure this out together.” Your voice cracks, the hurt pouring out.

He hesitates, shaking his head again. “I… can’t.”

It pushes something inside you.

Maybe you’ll regret it later but now it’s all you can think about. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better.

“You can either get in this car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”

“Y-You’ll leave?” He’s looking at you despite the fog in his brain, not sure if he’s hearing you correctly, “Leave me?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“E-everyon leaves right?"

He’s never said anything like that to you before.

“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”

You know you can’t fix this for him. He has to make the choice. His eyes dart toward Barry for a second, and Barry just shrugs, clearly not giving a damn about anything but his next hit.

“I love you, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

For a second, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor like he’s already made his decision.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, barely audible. “But I don’t know how to stop.”

Your heart breaks a little more at that. “Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”

If he doesn’t come with you, you’re not sure where this ends for him. He’s stuck, frozen in place, trapped by whatever’s going on in his head, and you realize that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you want to save him, you can’t force him to choose you. You can’t make him get in the car.

“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”

Rafe looks up at you, eyes glossy, and for a second, you think he might actually say something — something that will make this all okay, something that will bring him back to you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a line. You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.

“Okay,” you nod, barely holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”

You turn and walk out the door, your heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, because if you do, you know you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that. Not now. But as you get into your car and grip the steering wheel with your entire strength, the sobs come anyway.

You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you. Not this time.

Rafe doesn’t even register the sound of the door slamming behind you. It’s like he’s watching everything happen from somewhere far away, his body numb, his mind completely blank. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never really hit him. They just floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached. The room is spinning a little, his chest tight, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.

You left.

He knows that happened, but it doesn’t mean anything right now. He can’t process it. Not in this state. Not when the drugs are still in his system, making everything feel like it’s underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working. It’s just static.

Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, but he doesn’t hear him either. It’s like the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, muscles tense, but inside? Inside he’s empty.

Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here, not when he’s this far gone. The light changes through the window, but it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes. Just darkness. Maybe he did too many lines.

At some point, he wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to figure out where the hell he is.

It takes a second for everything to catch up. To realize he’s at Barry’s.

And then, it hits him all at once. You.

You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.

His chest tightens, a sick, sinking feeling crawling up his throat. He sits up too fast, his head swimming. Fuck.He rubs his hands over his face, trying to calm his breathing. His thoughts are still sluggish. You left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t even try.

Why didn’t he stop you?

Before he can think too much about it, Barry saunters in, a smug grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a low, mocking laugh.

“Well, well, well,” Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”

Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.

Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”

The shame is settling in now, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear anything. But Barry just keeps going, like he’s enjoying watching him fall apart.

“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” Barry continues, “Girl like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”

If he felt strong enough he would’ve punched that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next. Who the fuck did he think he was to talk about you like he knew you.

He knows Barry’s just trying to get under his skin, but it’s working. He feels sick. He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use.

“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “And now you’re right back here. Same old Rafe.”

Same old Rafe. He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with Barry, done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be.

But now? Now he’s right back where he started. And the worst part? He let you see it. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he even can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.

Rafe doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t need to. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand.

Barry watches him, that same smug grin never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised. Not at all.

"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not anymore.

Not after everything he’s already fucked up. He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, the room still spinning a little as he stumbles toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him, as if the drugs are the only thing holding him together.

"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his teeth grinding together, but he doesn’t turn back. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does.

He walks away. He doesn’t think. He just keeps moving, out of the door, out into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.

It’s been two weeks since you last saw Rafe.

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Two weeks of silence, of unanswered calls and texts that sit there on your screen and make you cry every time you look at them. You told him you’d leave, but you didn’t mean it. You never meant it.

You just needed him to fight. For himself. But he didn’t.

And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.

Every morning you wake up with this heavy impossible ache in your chest, and it only gets worse as the day goes on. You keep wondering where he is, if he’s okay, if he’s even thinking about you or if he’s too far gone to care.

You miss him. God, you miss him.

Now you don’t even know where he is. If he’s still spiraling or if he’s hit rock bottom.

You’ve barely been able to keep it together at work. Every time you try to focus, that image of Rafe in his absolute worst slips in, and you never get anything done. You’ve called in sick twice, just to stay in bed and cry, because you can barely breathe.

You’ve reached out to Sarah a few times, trying to understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t know much either. "He’s off the grid," she’d told you last time, "Doesn’t want to talk to anyone."

That was a week ago.

And now you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, debating if you should try one more time. One more call. One more text.

Because this can’t possibly end this way.

He’s the love of your life.

Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”

“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”

Your stomach drops, “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

You can hear her take a shaky breath. “It’s Rafe. He’s, shit, it’s bad. Like, really bad.”

“What do you mean, bad? Sarah, what happened?”

“Dad’s trying to get his doctor on the line,” she says, her voice cracking. “Just in case he ODs.”

Your blood turns ice cold.

“He’s not picking up,” she continues, her words spilling out in a rush, like she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down. “Dad’s freaking out, and Rafe—he’s not making sense. He’s been on a bender for days, and now he’s just... he’s not there. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you could—”

“I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already standing, your body moving on autopilot.

You hang up before she can say anything else, grabbing your keys and rushing out the door. The drive to Tannyhill feels like it takes forever as your mind comes up with worst-case scenarios. You’ve seen Rafe struggle before—you’ve seen the dark places he’s been—but if Sarah’s calling you, if Ward’s getting a doctor involved….

You barely notice you’ve already parked the car, barely notice the front door swinging open as you run inside. The house is quiet, too quiet.

Sarah’s standing by the staircase, her eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say anything, just nods toward the living room.

And that’s when you see him.

He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, his eyes half-open but glazed over, like he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is pale, clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks like half a version of himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”

“Rafe?” you call, stepping toward him. But he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even flinch. He just stares ahead, eyes unfocused, like he’s not even aware you’re there.

Sarah’s standing behind you now, her voice low, “He won’t talk to us. He’s too far gone.”

You sink down beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. You reach out, hesitating for a second before gently placing your hand on his arm.

“Rafe,” your voice wavers. “Baby, it’s me. Please… please talk to me.”

But there’s nothing. Just silence.

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes meet yours—but it’s like looking at a ghost. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. Not right now. Not in this moment. And it kills you.

You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.

Ward's still on the phone, pacing like a caged animal, his voice a angry hum in the background. His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes red and puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, and you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this.

After what feels like an eternity, the front door bursts open, and a doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. The doctor, some guy Ward must have on speed dial for situations like this, doesn’t waste any time. He kneels down beside Rafe, checking his pulse, his pupils, his breathing.

“This is bad,” the doctor mutters, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”

Lucky.

The paramedic moves in, setting up an oxygen mask, checking Rafe’s vitals, and it feels like the room is spinning. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.

Ward finally hangs up the phone and stands there, watching as the doctor works. “Is he gonna be okay?” he asks, his voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.

The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We need to take him in. I’m stabilizing him, but if this had gone on any longer, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

You feel like you're going to be sick.

The paramedic starts prepping him for transport, and you stand there, helpless, watching as they move him onto a stretcher. His body looks so limp, so fragile. They’re talking about taking him to the hospital for observation, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

Ward steps forward, he watches his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes.

“I should’ve seen this coming,” Ward says, his voice shaking. “I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault.”

You feel something snap inside of you. “I’m sure it fucking is.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there like a fucking idiot. Sarah is beside you now, her hand on your arm, gently pulling you back. “Let’s go,” she mutters,“We should go with him.”

You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.

You climb into your car, Sarah beside you, and you both sit there for a moment in silence, watching as the ambulance pulls away, taking Rafe with it.

“I’m scared,” Sarah admits.

You close your eyes, and nod. “So am I.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe. She sits beside you, staring straight ahead and neither of you says another word.

The hospital is quiet when you arrive, eerily so. You both rush in, Sarah at your side, searching for the emergency room and after a bunch of paperwork and hurried conversations, you’re finally led to the waiting room. The doctor said they’d keep you updated, and you sit down on those stiff, uncomfortable chairs, the waiting begins.

Minutes drag by like hours. You try to text or scroll through your phone, anything to distract yourself, but you can’t focus. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Rafe. It’s like your brain is stuck on replay, and you can’t shut it off. Sarah’s over there biting her lip until it’s bleeding. Every now and then, she looks at you, like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t. And you don’t either. You can’t. What the hell would you even say? It feels like you’re both waiting for the worst possible news and just pretending you’re not.

After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time.

The doctor sighs, and he looks tired, like this isn’t the first time he’s delivered news like this today.

“We stabilized him,” he says, “He was really close to an overdose, but we got to him in time. He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are stable for now. We’ll keep him under observation for at least 24 hours.”

You finally take a deep breath, but it’s shaky, and it doesn’t feel real.

Sarah doesn’t even hesitate. The second the doctor says Rafe’s stable, she’s heading towards his room, like she needs to see him, to make sure for herself that he’s really still here. You don’t follow her, though. Your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, if you move, you’ll just collapse right there in the hallway.

As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you know you can’t handle it. Not right now. You’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hold it together, and this is the first time you feel like you can finally breathe. Like you’re not suffocating with worry.

What you need more than anything is to get out of here. To just breathe, to close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out, strung out, burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. Maybe not perfect, maybe not healed, but for now, he’s alive.

The next day, you finally gather the courage to see him. You feel like you might throw up at any second. You stop outside his room, staring at the door for what feels like forever, trying to convince yourself to go inside.

He’s lying in bed, looking like he barely walked out of this one alive, but he’s awake. His eyes meet yours the second you step inside, and you feel like you’re going to start crying at any given second.

“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.

Rafe blinks, like he’s surprised to see you. His voice is rough when he speaks, cracked from everything his body’s been through. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” He’s genuinely shocked. As if he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. From him. You swallow hard, taking a step closer to the bed. “Of course I came, Rafe.” Your voice is soft, barely holding together. “Where else would I be?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm, like he can’t stand to look at you.

“Sarah called me. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “She shouldn’t have,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, barely there.

“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. And I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, your throat closing up, and you bite your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”

You can see his chest rising and falling slowly, and for a split second, you think he’s not going to answer at all. That he’s just going to keep shutting you out.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”

Your heart breaks all over again because you’ve already seen it. You’ve seen every part of him—the good, the bad, the absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’re still standing in this stupid hospital room because you love him. He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You step closer to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Just a little bit.

“Don’t say that,” you reach for his hand. He flinches at first but doesn’t pull away when you lace your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you to let me help you.”

He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”

You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. That deep-rooted pain that always seems to haunt him when he talks about her is stronger than you’ve ever seen before.

“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I just make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to swallow down the rest of his words, the ones he can’t say out loud.

“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, not caring if he feels like a mess or if you’re being too much. You just want him to feel like he’s not alone. “Baby, I know you’re hurting,” you murmur into his shoulder, “But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”

“You have,” you admit, “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”

He looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s waiting for you to just walk out of that hospital room and never look back. But you don’t.

You tighten your grip on his hand, "You don’t get to decide that for me. I’m still here because I love you. Even when you push me away.”

“You shouldn’t love me,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of fact, like it’s already been decided.

You shake your head, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his cheek. “But I do, Rafe. I always will. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, we’ll figure it out, together, okay? One step at a time.”

He nods, barely, but it's something. It��s a start.

177 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 2 days

Text

Nothing's Gonna Change My World (Steddie X You)(90s Universe)

A/N: I hope you like this. It's a new style for me and I have all the ideas for this. Each chapter will be a different universe. <3

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Y/N, The universe they view the first time is a 90s esc style one with Punk Boy in a Band Steve/ Entrepreneur Eddie and Regular 90's girl Y/N. SMUT, light spanking, daddy kink with Eddie (because Im me), and everything in between

ANGST (again because I'm me)

Y/N's kinda blah about the experiment mentioning she's only doing it for the money, mentions of cheating (her ex cheats on her), mentions of alcoholism (briefly touched on)(reader almost breaks her sobriety until Steve appears), mentions of loss of sibling (brief), these three get feisty with each other near the end. Slight cliffhanger ending I guess? There's some things we're going to learn about these three as the chapters go along.

Word Count: 6282

Donate/Tip Me

2075

“Ok, thank you all for coming and being apart of our experiment. I’m just going to go over some rules, guidelines and answer any questions you may have.”

You sigh and fold your arms as you drown out the sound of the doctor in front of you. Could you really call him a doctor? When you signed up to do this, he introduced himself as an inventor and scientist. You genuinely didn’t care either way. All that mattered to you was the ten grand payout you were expected to receive when this stupid thing was over.

“As stated previously, you will be here for about 3 weeks. You will be provided meals and beds free of charge but any additives like cigarettes or candy do cost extra.”

A boy snorted as he laughed under his breath drawing your attention. There was a total of about 15 people in the room but this boy stood out a bit more. It could be because you saw him outside of the building smoking when you were leaving your first initial interview but he seemed a lot less “put together” than the people around you.

Every participant was given a white shirt with white sweatpants to wear and just like everyone else in the city most of the people were fairly clean cut with their hair pulled or slicked back, little to no makeup, and their face clean shaven. This boy had long, wavy hair that hung around to his shoulders and it seemed like he hadn’t brushed it in months. He dawned tattoos on his arms that had some of the people around him flashing him dirty looks like he was unkempt.

You had a tattoo but it was hidden under your shirt by your heart where only you would see it.

When his chocolate-colored eyes briefly locked with yours, you shifted your gaze back to the man who was speaking.

“Every other day, you will be in the vessel for 4 hours and we do administer a calming agent to make sure you’re relaxed through the experiment.”

“Why? I thought you said this wasn’t dangerous.”, a woman interrupts beside you.

“It’s not, Mrs. Lynette, but it can be slightly…jarring… to see yourself in a different environment. We want you as relaxed as possible.”

“Excuse me. Can you explain that a bit more, please? Different environment.”, a boy asks as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

You ran into this boy as well after your interview. He bumped into you as you were opening the door to leave, mumbling an apology before holding it open wider for you to step through. His smell always lingered with you even when you went back home, trying to identify where you knew it from. It was definitely cologne but it felt so familiar.

He seemed like everyone else around him with all of his hair pushed back and his face clean of any stubble but his body language screamed that he was different. Up until this point, will everyone was sitting up straight and listening, he was leaning back with his large palms rubbing his knees as his long legs rested out in front of him.

After asking his question, he glanced towards you before you both looked towards the doctor.

“It’s hard to explain but the best way I can is you will getting glimpses into different universes and realties. They are you just in a different plain so to speak.”

“Will we be hurt or anything?”, someone else asked.

“No, not in this universe anyway. You are only an observer. You won’t be able to interact or change anything.”

“So what’s the point of this experiment exactly?”, you ask more so out of curiosity than anything.

The doctor smiles as he presses his clipboard to his chest.

“To learn. Learn about other worlds, other universes, other ways we can make this universe better.” Your eyebrows raise sarcastically as you huff and gross your legs. “You guys will be the first people to test this system out so we’re hoping for a fun and unique month.”

“Will we be running into each other? What do we do if that happens?”, a man inquired.

“We chose participants at random from different backgrounds with different circumstances and add in that there are so many factors that branch out universes or timelines. The chances of you running into someone in this room are one in a trillion. Less than even…”

You began to tune him out again until the feeling of hand touching your arm got your attention as you and the other participants were led to a large white room with 15 different pods or “vessels” as he called them. The nurse who guided you, held your hand as you stepped in and laid down in the somewhat comfy Styrofoam bed underneath you.

“Alright, Miss Y/L/N, you’re going to feel a slight pinch…” You hissed as the needle pierced your arm but the effects were instant as you laid your head back and felt your body calm. “Good. Now I’m just going to put these goggles over your eyes. This is what will allow you to see the universe. Remember, you’re just watching not interacting.”

“Okay.”, you murmured as you allowed her to place the bulky equipment over your head.

The sound of the pod closing had your fingers twitching as sounds around you became muffled.

“Alright, Miss Y/L/N, dropping down in 3, 2, 1—”

##################

You sat in your car staring at the stupid club sign debating if you should go in or drive away. You had been sober for the past 3 years but your ex-boyfriend (as of today) decided to cheat on you with a friend from his office and all you wanted to do was drown your sorrows in booze.

“Kallie, I’m sorry.”, you whisper as you open your car door and are promptly hit with freezing cold winds. After running to the front door, you show the man your id and he allows you entry.

Smoothing down your hair, you quickly remove your jacket and hand it to the person behind the counter and thank her as you take the ticket you’re handed. The beeper clasped to your hip beeped but you continued to ignore it knowing who it was.

As you take a seat at the bar, you glance around at the people dancing under the ambient red light while the band continues to play a slow but rhythmic song that even has you sway.

“What would you like to drink, Miss?”, the bartender asks and you order the first thing that comes to mind.

Feeling eyes on you, your gaze shifts towards the stage to see the bands guitarist eyeing you before giving you a soft wink and a smile. At the action, you suddenly feel under dressed in your overalls and long sleeve turtleneck that hugs your figure.

The man focused on his music again and you couldn’t but watch how his fingers moved across the strings of his instrument. He reminded you of a lead singer from any 90s punk band with his hair slightly spiked up but haphazardly flowing every which way and his black polo clinging to his upper torso to show off every muscle and tattoo he had. His jeans left little to the imagination but you loved the black and white converse that he showed off when jumping into the air as he played out the final song.

When he laughed and high fived his friend, he scrunched his nose and showed off his teeth making you smile as jealously panged your heart. You wished you were as happy as he seemed.

Your drink was placed in front of you and you stared at the contents as your fingers played with the rim of the bottle.

“Are you hoping to drink it with osmosis or?” You had been focusing so hard on your brain you didn’t even notice the guitarist had come up beside you causing you to jump when he spoke. “Whoa! I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright?”

God, he smells amazing.

“I’m ok. I was just…lost in my head.”

“I can understand that. I’m, uh, Steve, Steve Harrington.”

“Nice to meet you.”, you smile as you shake his extended hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N…that’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” Clearing your throat, you try to regain control as you gesture towards the stage. “You guys sounded amazing up there.”

“Thank you, thank you so much. My friend taught me how to play and I’ve been doing it ever sense. I love the rush I get you know?”

“Yeah, I have some idea.”

His amber eyes scan you over as he takes in your soft smile and jittery hands.

“Hey. I have an idea. We’re going to an after party down the street at my friend’s house. His uncle makes a ton of money so he has like this huge mansion we all hang out in after a gig. Would you like to come? He’s a cool dude.”

You weren’t sure what it was about this boy but you felt safe with him. You felt like you had known him for years but you couldn’t figure out how or why. Following your gut, you threw money on the table and started to head towards the front to get your coat.

“You didn’t finish your drink!”

“I don’t need to, Steve Harrington.”

“Would you mind if I ride with you? We all take a van here.”, the man asks as he slings on his jacket and he grins when your fingers graze his patches.

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Y/N! I have been looking everywhere for you! Why the fuck are you at a bar?!”, your ex shouts as he meets you halfway up the parking lot.

“That’s none of your fucking business! Get out of my way!”

“You know you shouldn’t be drinking!”

“And you know you shouldn’t be fucking other women yet here we are.”, you growl as you dig for your keys.

A hand reaches out to touch you but it’s swiftly pulled back when Steve grabs his wrist.

“Don’t fucking touch her.”

“Who the fuck is this?!”

As your ex pushes his hand away and steps towards you, the other man steps between you and shoves him back.

“I’m not going to tell you again. Don’t touch her. It sounds like she’s done with you. Now get the fuck out of here.”

“Or what?”

Again, he steps forward but this time Steve’s fist flies hitting your ex hard in the face.

“I warned you, asshole.”

As the bouncer comes out to see what’s going on, you hastily grab his arm and run to your car.

***

“Wow. Your friend lives here?”, you ask as you pull up to a two-story large house that took up most of the square footage of the area. “How did you two meet?”

“Um, high school?”, he answers before shutting his door and running around to open yours. “His uncle owns the factory up north and makes a ton of cash. He’s a cool dude and people love working with him.”

“Is that what your friend does?”

“Uh no. Eddie is kind of a freelancer, I guess you would say? He designs websites for people trying to utilize the world wide web. With this whole dot.com thing, he makes good money to. Designed our bands website.”

Steve didn’t even knock before entering the home but the party was in full swing as people around you were cozying up on couches and music blared. There was a pool out back where you could see people diving in and splashing around while couples clung to each other in their swimsuits. The man beside you high-fived people as he passed them, banging his head to the bass as it blared.

Guiding you around a corner, there were a bunch of boys in front of a big screen tv, screaming towards it as they button mashed the Nintendo 64 controller.

“Ah come on, man! Fuck you! You can’t use swords when I only have this knife!”

“Pick a better character than, Henderson! Boom!”, a long-haired boy shouted playfully as the character on the screen died. “And that is how you win, baby.”

Grinning wide, he ruffled the boy’s curls before standing and stepping over the back of his sofa.

“Harrington! Hey, man. How was the show?”

“Phenomenal as always.”, Steve beamed as he hugged his friend. “Hey, I want you to meet Y/N. Y/N, this is my friend Eddie Munson.”

As you reached out to shake his hand, he took hold of your own and kissed the back of it as he bowed in front of you.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. Can I offer you anything to drink? A beer maybe?”

“Oh, um, no thank you. I don’t…I don’t drink.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he scanned you over but he chose not to press you on the issue.

“Not a problem. Let’s head upstairs so we can talk somewhere quieter.”

Still clinging to your palm, Eddie guided as the other boy followed and you took this time to visually take in the boy in front of you. His long hair was pulled back so you could see the beautiful features in his face and the stubble that dusted his upper lip. While everyone else seemed more casual, he was dressed in a button up shirt with black slacks as if he had just got off from some corporate job.

Like with the other man, something about this boy told you that you could trust him. You had spent your whole life struggling especially within the last 6 years and besides Kallie never felt safe around anyone or anywhere. Even with your boyfriend, you were always afraid something bad was about to happen and oddly enough when it did you weren’t surprised.

“Welcome to my cozy nook away from the craziness.”, Eddie beams as he falls theatrically into a bean bag on the floor. “Y/N, I know you don’t drink but may I offer you some weed?”

Reaching behind him, he produces a little black box and pulls out some bud that he begins to roll.

***

You cackle as you laugh at a story Eddie had just told that had both boys beaming your way.

“Oh my god, it’s 3am. We’ve been up here for almost 4hrs. Do you need to get back to your guests?”

“My moochers? No, sweetheart, I don’t.”, the man answers in a husky drawl that makes you feel warm. “Honestly, Steve here is the only person who doesn’t use me for my cash or free shit so that’s why as soon as he arrives at my place, we come up here.”

“Hm…must be kind of lonely. Not knowing who you can trust.”, you reply absently causing their heads to tilt. “I can understand that.”

“Yeah, poor girl’s going through a breakup.”, Steve relays causing you to sit up and cross your legs. “Something about him cheating?”

“Yeah, um, I came home from work early and they were… fucking asshole. I’m not sure how he knew what bar I was at but—”

“Especially since he seemed to think you shouldn’t be there.” At his comment, you and Eddie shift your gaze his way before your head hangs. “Something about how you shouldn’t be drinking. It’s weird when I met you, you were sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand but you weren’t drinking it.”

When you didn’t respond, Eddie clapped his hands and tossed a smile your way.

“I have an idea. Let’s play truth or dare. It will help us get to know each other better and you can find out how much of a whiney bitch Steven is.”

The man narrows his eyes jokingly at his friend as you laugh.

“Harrington, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true… that every time your dad pisses you off you get a new tattoo?”

“Oh yeah. That’s why I have so many.”, he sasses, playfully widening his eyes as he removes his shirt to show them off. “I got this one on my stomach when my dad told me I was a waste of space for running off to join a band.”

“Steve…I’m so sorry.”, you try to comfort, reaching out to run your palm along his warm skin.

“Ed, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true…is it true you don’t smoke?”

Eddie flashes his friend a disgusted face before showing of the joint in his fingers.

“I only smoke the green stuff, my friend. I used to smoke cigarettes but after a doctor told me I was at risk because my mom died of cancer I quit the stuff.”

“That’s really good. I’m proud of you.”, you grin.

“Thank you, princess. Maybe you can help me talk Tom Delonge over here into stopping.”, he chuckles as Steve lightly kicks his friend’s knee with his bare feet. “Alright, Y/N. Truth or dare?”

“Um, truth.”

“Is it true what your boyfriend said? That you shouldn’t be drinking.”

You blink, taken off guard by his question as both men’s eyes bore into your frame.

“It’s not that I shouldn’t be. I choose not to.”

“Why?”

“I, um, I used to be an alcoholic. When I drank…I got stupid…and people got hurt.” You glance their way expecting judgement like everyone else in your life but when you’re met with their soft eyes, you smile towards Steve. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true you think less of me because I almost broke my sobriety tonight?”

As your head slightly hangs, he reaches out with his fingers to lift your chin.

“No, it’s not true. I get it, honey. Fucking asshole broke your heart and you just wanted the pain to stop. He had no right coming at you the way he did like he’s your fucking dad or something.” You can’t help but exhale as his thumb caresses your cheek before dropping his hand back around his legs and focusing on Eddie. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is it true you think less of Y/N?”

“God no. I think she’s strong, funny, and extremely beautiful.” You blush at his compliment, reaching out to lightly swat his arm before he swiftly grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to his lap. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

The long-haired boy smiles mischievously at your answer.

“I dare you…to kiss Steve.”

“You don’t want to kiss me?”, you ask incredulously as his grin widens.

“I do but I don’t want Harrington to think I’m trying to steal you away.”

Releasing you from his grasp, you lean back and scoot closer to his friend, closing your eyes as you inhale the smell of weed and nicotine on his breath.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”, Steve whispers and that comfort is all you need as you tilt forward so your mouth can crash to his.

The best way to describe what you were feeling was safe and you reveled in it, falling deeper and deeper in with every movement of his lips. His palm tenderly cupped your face to bring you closer as his tongue invaded and danced with yours.

“Hey, hey, hey. We aren’t done playing!”, Eddie chuckled as he swatted your two apart but Steve was unwilling as he lifted you off the floor and placed you in his lap with your back to his chest. His strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you and you melted into his embrace. “You’re turn, princess.”

“T-Truth or dare, Steve.”

“Dare, baby.”

“I dare you to take off your pants and underwear.” With one arm still wrapped around your stomach, he unbuckled his belt and awkwardly shoved down everything he was wearing below his waist. “F-Fuck.”, you moaned when his large cock sprung free and hit his stomach.

“Harrington, she’s not going anywhere. You can let her go.”

“I like feeling her against me. Truth or dare, Munson?”

“Dare, dude.”

“I dare you to help Y/N out of her clothes so we can get a good look at this beautiful woman.”

Eddie crawls towards you on his hands and knees, playfully grabbing your ankle and sliding his palm up your calf.

“Is that ok, sweetheart? Can we see your body?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah of course. Um!” They pause at your exclamation as both sets of eyes look down at you with concern. “I just feel like I should tell you…this isn’t normal for me…like I don’t go around jumping into bed with every guy…I meet at a bar.”

As you struggle through your words, Steve kisses your temple while Eddie unhooks your overalls.

“No judgments if you did, babe. We’re not like that either. I’m assuming Harrington here really likes you. He’s never brought a girl to the after party before.”

Lifting your hips, you allow him to slide off your pants while you help by removing your turtleneck and tossing it to the side.

“Is that true?”

“I’m, um, a little shy believe it or not.”, the man giggles as his lips lean down to kiss your neck.”

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“Truth.”, you pant as their hands caress your skin.

“Is it true you’ve never been with two men before?”

“Yes, it’s true but…”

“But what?”, Eddie coos his lips attach to the other side of your throat.

“I trust you. I can’t explain it but I do.” Neither man said a word as they continued to suck on your skin before you aggressively grabbed the long-haired boy’s collar and forced him to face you. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you both to fuck me.”

Lurching forward, his mouth needily kissed yours and you moaned at the taste of the joint on his lips. After hastily ripping off his shirt and pants with his own boxers, he pumped his cock in your direction and you didn’t even hesitate as your palm took hold of his girth and your tongue ran along the tip.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Spit on it. Get it nice and wet.” Eddie bites his bottom lip when your eyes flick up to meet his as you spit on his mushroom head and stroke it along his shaft.

A loud moan ripples through from your throat when you feel Steve adjust you slightly before sliding his fingers under the waist band of your panties and run his fingers through your folds.

“Shit, honey. Already so wet. Is this because of us?” When you nod, he mewls as he kisses your cheek. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Suck my friend’s dick. I got you.”

You did as he suggested and Eddie’s fingers tangled in your hair as he lightly thrust his hips, pushing himself as far down your throat as he could go. Your own whimper vibrated against him as Steve breached your entrance and slid one of his own digits into your cunt.

“Goddamn it, Ed. She’s so fucking tight. I wonder how she tastes.”

His friend pants out a laugh as he bends down and lifts you off Steve’s lap to place you directly onto the floor.

“If you wanted to eat her out all you had to do was ask. Is this ok, Y/N? The floor isn’t cold or anything?” Shaking your head, you reach for his lips and he smiles at your eagerness as his hands roam your skin. “You really are beautiful, baby. What’s this?”, he asks as he lifts off your bra and his fingers trace the ink on your chest. “Who’s Kallie?”

“My sister. She died three years ago.”

Eddie’s eyes scanned yours before leaning down to give you a gentle kiss.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Feathery light kisses grabbed your attention as Steve traced your thigh with his lips before deeply inhaling you through his nose between your legs.

“You smell good, honey. Can I make you feel good?”

“Please.”, you beg and he obliges as his tongue runs up your slit to your clit.

Your fingers played with his hair and with every light pull, he would moan making your eyes roll back as Eddie’s palm massaged your stomach and up between the valley of your breasts.

“Does his tongue feel good?”

“Yes. C-Can I…Can I taste you again?”

As he pushed up onto his knees, you stuck your tongue out and he licked his lips as he tapped his cock against the muscle.

“Now keep your tongue flat, baby, and I’m gonna fuck your throat while Stevie here makes you cum.”

At the sound of his name, the boy tilted back and spit directly into your hole, eliciting a filthy moan from you as he slid two of his fingers inside of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you allowed Eddie to use you as he pumped his length hard and you gagged around him.

The sound drove Steve crazy and he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves as the obscene sound of slurping filled the room.

“Good girl. Fuck, baby. Cum on his fingers and keep that throat open for me. That’s it.”

Your pussy clung to Steve’s digits as the ball dropped and you came aggressively as he helped you through it. Kissing his way up your stomach, his lips lingered along your tattoo before you felt his tongue lick your skin to your neck.

“You taste so fucking good, honey. Taste yourself.”, he commanded in a breathy whimper as he offered you his fingers that you eagerly sucked on. “Atta girl. Sweet like you.”, he cooed with a smile as he kissed your cheek.

They exchange a glance and switch places, Steve on his knees by your head while Eddie opens your legs wider and tosses one of them over his shoulder. You mewl as he glides his cock through your folds, collecting your slick as he pumps his hips.

As he begins to push inside of you, you wince slightly at his size while he carefully inches forward.

“I know, baby. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, the other man tries to sooth as he pets your head and places tender kisses along your face. “You’re doing good.”

A jolt of electricity shoots through your body and your gaze shifts towards Eddie who was rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continued to watch himself disappear inside you.

“F-Fuck, it’s so big.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m—fuck, you’re so tight—I’m almost all the way in.”

Searching blindly behind you, it takes Steve a moment before he realizes what you’re looking for.

“You want to suck my cock, Y/N? Can you handle us both right now?”

“Yes…please…”, you whine making him groan with need as he scoots closer to your side.

When his friend bottoms out, he freezes allowing you to get used to his size as he tenderly kisses and rubs your calf against his shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

Finding a steady rhythm, Eddie obliges and so does Steve as he guides his length into your awaiting mouth.

“Shit, baby. Your mouth is amazing. Taking—mmph—taking us both so well. Y-Your pussy’s so good you shut Munson up.”, he chuckles as his friend’s head hangs absorbing the pleasure while he clings to your thigh for leverage.

Biting his bottom lip, calloused fingers play with your nipples as the other boy tilts down a bit more to do the same.

“Oh, Eddie!” As he leaned over, he brought your leg with him, pushing his cock deeper into your cunt and slamming into buttons you had no idea even existed. “Right—Right there.”

“Right there, princess? Ok…ok, I got you, baby. Daddy’s got you. Fuck.” The title threw you off guard as your pussy gripped him like a vice. “Fuck, Y/N. You like that, don’t you? Like knowing Daddy’s taking care of you?”

“Jesus.”, Steve murmured as you bobbed your head faster around him.

Placing his palms flat on the floor to balance himself, the boy above you rolled his hips practically punching the air from your lungs as you choked and spit spilled from your lips.

Steve hastily backed away, allowing you catch your breath as your eyes locked with Eddie’s.

“Say it, sweetheart. Beg Daddy to make you cum.”

“P-Please, Daddy. Make me—ahhh—make me cum. Oh f-fuck.”

Skin slapping into skin echoed through the room till your back arched and your nails dragged down his bare chest as you came.

“Jesus H. fucking Christ. W-Where can I cum, Y/N?”

“Inside…Inside please.”

Dropping your leg to the side, Eddie collapsed on top of you with his hands on either side of your head as he grunted in your ear.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Mmph—take my cum, baby. For pussy this good, it’s yours.”

His entire body trembled as his release spilled inside of you, a little chuckle leaving his lips at the feeling of your cunt milking him till he was empty.

As soon as he rolled away, Steve was at your side softly kissing your sweaty face.

“Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” When you nod, he swiftly wraps his arms around you and spins you around until your giggling on top of him. “You really are beautiful, Y/N.”

“Very. Your ex is a fucking moron.”, Eddie smirked as he lazily reached out to run his fingers along your leg.

Your own palms run along the guitarist’s chest as you take in all of his unseen tattoos that were slightly obscured by the hair on his chest.

“I like this one. ‘Jai guru deva, om’.”, you smile as you point to the words. “I wouldn’t expect a man like you to like the Beatles.”

Steve’s own grin grows as he pushes up onto his elbows.

“You really are something, aren’t you? Definitely more than what’s on the surface.”

Your lips kiss his and he cups your face bringing you with him as he lies down flat on his back once more. Feeling movement below you, you both moan as his grinds his hard, leaking cock between your legs.

As you reach between your bodies, the two of you watch as you hold onto him and gradually sink down onto his length.

“Oh my God, Steve.”

“Fuck, honey. T-Take your time. We have all night.”

As you slowly roll your hips, his large, gorgeous hands run along your thighs, up your sides, and to your breasts, kneading them in his palms as your own balance against him.

“There you go, baby. Am I—mmph—am I deep? Can you feel me right here?”

When his hand pressed on your lower tummy, your head fell back as you whimpered his name and covered it with your own. You found a rhythm as you bounced on top of him, his moans mixing with yours as he watched your body move.

“God, Y/N, you’re so fucking sexy riding my dick. That’s it, baby. Harder.”, he commanded as he spanked your behind causing you to fall forward and hold yourself up with your palms. Tilting towards you, his mouth wrapped around your nipple as his tongue flicked against the bud and he hit your ass again.

“Fuck, Steve.”

“That’s right, pretty girl. Mmm—say my name like that again.”

“S-Steve…please…I’m…”

Wrapping his arms around your back, he yanked you flat against his chest and planted his feet into the carpet as he thrust up into you roughly. Fingers threaded through your hair and pressed you to his neck as your lips clung to his skin as he grunted into your ear.

Your screams were muffled but he could hear you chanting his name as you came, driving him over the edge as his rhythm faltered and you felt his release coat your quivering walls.

You both continued to pant as he rolled you onto your side and a second set of lips tenderly kissed your shoulder.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything? Water?”, Eddie asked with a kindness behind his tone that made you smile.

“No, thank you. I’m alright.”

Nodding, he absently reached behind him and produced a blanket to cover your bodies with while Steve continued to pet your head.

“Hey, um, I have a gig on Friday in Indianapolis. Would you want to come?”

You giggle at his shyness as his friend grins wide behind you.

“I think it’s cute after what we just did, you’re still nervous to talk to me.”

“I’m not nervous to talk to you. I’m nervous…we won’t hear from you again and I don’t know about Ed but I’d like to get to know you more.”

“I definitely would. I’m going with him on Friday for a meeting and I’d love to experience one of his concerts with you. We can all get dinner afterwards…talk.”

“Truth or dare?”, you ask Eddie as you both softly smile at each other.

“Truth.”

“Is it true that I have some demons in my past that may frighten you away from me?”

The man blinks as he takes in your question before leaning down to lightly kiss your lips.

“It’s true but it takes a lot to scare me away, sweetheart. Trust me. We’ve got some demons to but we’re learning to deal with them just like you seem to be. Maybe we can even help you.”

“Truth or dare?”, you ask Steve as your turn your attention to him.

“Truth, honey.”

“Is it true that this isn’t a one-time thing for you both? That you genuinely like me.”

Smiling, his tattooed hand cups your cheek as he gives you a sloppy kiss that makes you laugh.

“It’s true. I fell for you the moment you walked into the bar. As soon as I spoke with you I knew Munson would like you to. We don’t have to move fast or anything. We can take this as slow as you need to.”

Eddie’s fingers tilt your head his way.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“Dare.”, you answer as you bite your bottom lip coyly.

“I dare you to stay and give us a chance because we promise you won’t regret it.”

########################

“Whoa, Whoa, Miss Y/L/N! Everything’s ok!”, the nurse tries to comfort as you jerk up and remove the goggles from your eyes.

Glancing around you, you hear the sounds of the other participants crying and talking over one another as they describe what they saw.

“Ok, let me just check your vitals really quickly and then we can give you another relaxer to calm you—”

“Mr. Harrington, WAIT!”, another nurse shouts across the way as the man heatedly stomps away from her to grab Eddie’s sleeve and tug him out of the room.

“Mr. Harrington! Mr. Munson! Hang on now!”

“Miss Y/L/N, please come back!”

You ignored her as you jumped out of your pod to follow where they were going.

“You said it shouldn’t be a fucking problem!”, Steve hissed.

“I didn’t think it would but I’m not a fucking scientist. I haven’t physically spoken to you or seen you two years and it’s not like we were the best of friends before that! I figured ‘other realities’ of me would also know what a fucking asshole you are!”, Eddie growled back as he pushed the man away. “I didn’t expect it to be like that…”

“You two know each other?!”, you angerly whisper causing their heads to jerk your way. “So much for fucking random. Look, just keep your fucking mouths shut! I’m not getting kicked out of this thing because you two screwed everything up.”

“Excuse the hell out of me, Miss high and mighty but how is what happened our fault?!”, the pretty boy scolded as he crossed his arms. “How do you know us?”

“WHAT?!”

His palm promptly slams over your mouth as he pulls you around the corner and shoves you against the wall.

“Shhhh! You’re not the only one who needs to be here. Now, Eddie probably appeared because we’ve met each other so how do we know you?”

“I’ve never seen either of you in my life.”, you answer when he removes his hand. “And how do I know you don’t know me?” As his eyes scan you from head to toe your own roll. “Really? You are a fucking asshole.”

“I’m not trying to be. I just…My class of people don’t usually run into yours.”

“How do you even know what my class is?”

“I mean…”, he responds, gesturing absently up and down towards you.

“Wow. You were such a better person in the other universe. If I’m so beneath you, how do you know him?”

“Look, it’s none of your fucking business alright? Let’s just chalk that up to being a fluke or something and move on with your lives, hm?”, Eddie intervenes as you and Steve sigh and relent.

“Miss Y/L/N! You three need to get back inside so we can take your vitals and prepare for the interview.”, a nurse commands as she points into the room.

“Y/L/N. As in Michael Y/L/N?”

Without answering, you hurry back inside and fold your arms as you sit back near your pod.

“So you do know her?”, Eddie whispers as they both slowly enter the room.

“Uh…no. No, I know her last name. You do to…Our private school was named after him.”

The long-haired boy blinks as he tries to comprehend the information in front of him.

“Wait a minute. Why DON’T we know her then? Shouldn’t she be like a billionaire or something?”

“I don’t fucking know. Just drop it, ok. Like you said, it’s a fluke or something. Let’s just avoid her and avoid each other so we can do this and get outta here.”

#################

@baileebear @jasminelafleur @twirls827 @dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @starboygf @alba8688 @crybabyddl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @utterlyinsanity @hardladyheart

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iihandsiiheavn · 21 hours

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ʚɞ "can you bring my girlfriend?" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⋮ angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. word count: 1,7k

✧₊⁺ oscar piastri x carina duquez (female!oc)

summary: when oscar feels too much, but he'll always have his girlfriend to share life.

warnings: autor with an addiction to angst writing, mentions of a panic/anxiety attack, soft!oscar for the win, lando norris as a special guest.

Oscar feels overwhelmed.

Bahrain gets the hottest track of the year, a hard race to say the least. It feels like there's too much going on, almost like the McLaren driver could sense his skin burning even out of the car.

He usually holds good control over himself; a very disciplined athlete, he heard every call on the radio and hydrated just as much as he could, but the fuzzy feeling won't leave him.

Seeing bright and blind sparks where his vision should be, an anxiety wave crashing in his chest as he stumbles inside the papaya box.

It's not just the heat, being so self-aware makes him sure of that. The medical team follows him inside, just a plain sight, there are people around, but everything seems just too far away. Soaked in sweat and cold water, his heart is beating too fast for him to think clearly.

He needs to get Carina.

Also known as his girlfriend, his baby, his physiologist. Like, legally. Like what she does for a living. Oscar can't be her patient as part of the conduct, but she often helps him out with that kind of stuff, like identifying whether it's physical pain or just anxiety.

"No, I'm okay. I'm okay," the pilot waves his hands as the doctors approach, really focused on keeping his breath regular. "Can you just get my girlfriend? She's somewhere in the VIP. I really need her right now."

"I know you might want some comfort right now, but I need to check you right away."

"You can! Just bring my girlfriend. Can you bring my girlfriend?" As soon as he understood that the man in front of him wasn't going to move, he asked someone in the back. "She'll be here in seconds. I'll let you touch me as soon as she says I'm okay."

Yeah, the doctor is right. Oscar just wants some comfort right now. Carina, besides being very good at what she does for a living, is also an incredibly amazing girlfriend. Her powers go beyond what she studied for.

And heaven seems to be on their side today. One of the guys on the medical team heads out of the room, and Oscar just tries to breathe slowly and deeply.

Carina is there, body almost hanging on the half-wall of the accommodation, trying to get any sign of what's going on inside the papaya garage. Usually, he would wave to her every time he left the car, and that didn't happen today. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, worrying if something had happened.

She's right, somehow. Somebody dressed in McLaren's staff uniform came for her with a pass for the boxes zone and a calming voice, telling her not to worry, that Oscar is okay and just requested her presence.

But, well... Carina knows the boyfriend she got herself. There are not many people who can get into his sensitive space, and if she's being called, there is something sensitive happening. The Aussie girl flew down the access stairs and followed the woman into the light-weighted door, a few seconds until she could see Oscar's red face resting up, the back of his head against the wall, and his body curled up together.

"Hey, Osc." She uses her softest tone, leaving her purse and phone on the closest surface as she approaches. "Pretty hot track, huh?"

Easy to guess. In the past few months, all this F1 pressure started kicking in, the perks of driving a rocketship with such ability, being this much of a promise brought some other stuff to the table.

"Yeah." He muttered, eyes closed, face red. "Am I fine? I can't really feel my face or my hands... Whatever. I can't feel much. Am I okay?"

It'd be funny in some other situation. Oscar does look like a serious guy, like someone too calm and put-together. He tries very hard to be. But sometimes, just like everyone else, he wants someone with answers.

Someone else to think for him, to figure out why everything feels so tangled up.

"Fine as always." Carina keeps her voice low, the good kind of lie. He just needed to feel like he's in control. "Your face is just bloody red, but you know I really find you the cutest when you're like this."

"Stop it." A shy little laugh leaves the Aussie's lips, really less worried as she zips his fireproof down and reaches the sides of his neck, rubbing her cold hands. "Hmm... That feels good."

"Yeah? You're just overheated, okay? Can the doctors check you out? We just need to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah- Yeah, of course. You'll stay here, right? Don't leave, please."

"I'll never leave you. Let's just get checked, and then you'll head home."

So Oscar finally feels comfortable enough to let the other people in the room touch him. Carina stays by his side, even talks to the doctors, and fixes his hair sometimes.

"Ice tub, shower, and then you can head home, Oscar. You were great today." The last person on the medical team finishes cleaning up, standing up before waving a last goodbye and leaving the room.

"Do you still need me here? I can wait for you outside." Carina says softly, tucking his overgrown hair behind his ears. "Take your shower, and I'll get the car, okay?"

"Of course not," he whispers. "can't you stay?"

That's what she does. They follow each other down the corridors in the McLaren facility to where the drivers actually go post-race. A tub of cold water awaits, and Oscar takes seconds before diving in, their last moments by themselves.

"C'mon, Osc! Can't believe the heat got the best of you!" Lando shows up from the front of the garage, towel around his neck as he tries to keep the humor up. "You're okay? Did you get checked?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got checked." He's still with his eyes closed, someone from the staff pouring one more ice bag into his tub. "It was a whole lot."

"It was, man. It is too hot around here, and the track is even worse. I thought the car was overheating!" Lando agrees. "And hey, Carina! The best medicine is love, huh? That's what they always say."

Oscar can't understand what is happening to him. He's a chill guy, always so calm and down to earth. How come the tug in his chest hits like a hammer sometimes?

It's hard to breathe, to think, and for the first time in forever... To be quiet. He tried hiding in the bathroom, tried showering. Nothing could put the feeling away, and he already felt like a burden. Carina shouldn't be fixing his mind every time something happens. His mind keeps telling him he's supposed to hold himself together.

But it's still too hard, too much.

She's sleeping. After they went back home and after everything cooled down, literally, she was still the one to order their dinner, set the bedroom, and check on him until he fell asleep on her chest. Now he is hiding in the bathroom, making sure she has time to rest.

"Baby? Are you alright? I miss you in bed; you left a while ago."

Damn, he could swear he was slick enough for her not to notice he left.

But she does, she always does. The details are some of her best qualities.

"Uh-hum. I'll be back." His hands shake, touching his own face and trying to dry the tears.

"It's cool, don't worry. Would you mind... opening the door for me? You're locked in."

Carina is good at this, she's a pro. Oscar knows she'll be the best psychologist once she finishes college just by the way she treats people around her, but mostly him.

She makes him feel comfortable before ever going to the point. He doesn't even notice she's doing it.

Still, he doesn't want to cry in front of her anymore, at least not today.

"Osc? Look, you don't need to talk or anything, I just don't want you to be alone. Because you're not."

He could swear that's procedure, although it isn't. She's just being his caring girlfriend, the one he's had ever since middle school.

"I know." The only two words he manages to say. "I'll be back, promise."

"Would you like... would you like me to be inside with you? Or would you rather spend a few more minutes alone? I can come back and check on you in ten minutes."

That could be funny. Carina sometimes uses this positive discipline thing to get in control, and being conditioned really puts Oscar's mind in place.

Her company could be good. He doesn't overthink when he's around her.

And ten minutes can feel like an eternity. So the door gets unlocked, and he steps back.

"Hey, baby..." That's when he melts completely, face hiding in the crook of Carina's neck, arms around her, and sobs a bit too loud.

She just wishes he was smaller so she could hold him fully.

"What the fuck is going on, Rina? I don't understand! Why am I like this? That's not me!" he cries. "Everything feels so different, and I just want this feeling to go away!"

"I know, baby. I know. Things are changing. You're onto big things, big results, consistency... And you're also a public figure. You're facing new things."

"And why can't I just be like Lando? Or Lewis? Or Charles? They make it all look so easy! I just... I just want to be like everyone else!"

"Oh, so you think your friends haven't felt that way? When they went through the same? I mean... Lewis is old enough to be your father so... It's been a long time." Yeah, the humor and the way she runs her fingers through his spine. It all makes the feeling sink down. "Ask Lando, or whoever. I'm sure they faced what you're facing right now. Last year you were a rookie and now you're winning races!"

Not another word in the conversation; only Oscar's body getting heavy and the sobs becoming softer and softer. Carina has no idea how much he has slept.

"You're amazing, Osc. We will get through this, okay?"

"I love you," he whispers. "So, so much... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would surely get no sleep. Let's go to bed, wash your face, and go to bed." Her hands travel his back a little more. "I love you too, baby. So, so much."

#oscar piastri fanfic #formula 1 #formula one imagine #f1 #f1 angst #f1 imagine #formula 1 angst #formula one #lando norris #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri

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thefirst3chapters · 3 days

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Thinking about the car accident aftermath in "Teach Me Tonight" again:

Luke is understandably all over the place in the episode where Jess is sent to town. He's simultaneously buying Frosted Flakes and explaining to a skeptical Lorelai that all Jess needs is someone to "give him a little space" and "treat him like a man." Luke resists Lorelai's overreactive but not entirely unreasonable questions and advice until he responds to Jess's defiance and declaration of not wanting help by pushing him off the bridge. Then, he goes right to Lorelai as he panics about not being cut out to raise a kid (he's made a big mentality shift here!) because of having "no patience for jam hands." She reminds him that Jess isn't a toddler, but this situation is going to take work.

Fast forward to "Teach Me Tonight." The first two things Rory tells Lorelai over the phone in reference to the accident are "I need you to be calm" and "I'm alright." Rory has already buried her own reaction and is trying to put Lorelai at ease as much as she can; for not the first or the last time, she has to be the more mature person in their relationship. Lorelai demands that Rory have extra tests that the doctor didn't recommend, and then she leaves Rory at the hospital to hunt Jess down. It isn't Lorelai's intent to make Rory carry both their emotions by herself, but that's what ends up happening even though Lorelai is extensively focused Rory's physical injury. It says a lot about how Lorelai and Rory function as each other's peers and as each other's parents. The only person who will offer advice that matches the injury Rory actually has, listen to how she feels about the accident, and validate her perspective is Luke.

When Luke finds Jess hunched over on the bridge, Jess doesn't say anything about his own safety or ask Luke to stay calm. He just says, "I made sure she was okay." This is of course reflective of how much Jess cares about Rory and how devastated he is about her getting hurt, but it also strongly suggests that it doesn't even occur to Jess that his own well-being would matter to Luke. One could understand why Jess might've thought that way; Luke is openly, sometimes extremely, protective of Rory and continues to be when Rory is years older than Jess is here. He confronts both Dean and Logan unprompted on Rory's behalf. He wants to intervene when Rory decides to leave Yale and maintains a warm relationship with her even though he avoided addressing Jess's school/work situation directly until he kicked him out and later yelled at him for returning for his car. We know what's in Luke's heart here, though, because he just explained it to Lorelai at the cost of their relationship. He won't rest until he knows both kids are okay.

Luke could've in this moment screamed at Jess for being reckless with Rory, damaging property, smoking, and throwing a wrench in his friendship with Lorelai. He could've demanded that Jess be a man and stick around to repair the damage and face the wrath they both know is impending. He doesn't do any of those things, though. He sees how anguished Jess is and realizes now that he shouldn't have to be a man quite yet. Luke offers the precious comfort of immediately believing that Jess took care of Rory with "I know you did," and that's that. Of all the choices Luke could've made here, he chooses a quiet sort of mercy, so there they are in calming silence with their matching postures and green jackets and emotional repression in the same place where Luke shoved Jess into the water months earlier. Yes, there's an argument to be made that Jess going back wasn't the right way to handle this, but at the same time that choice has incredible compassion behind it.

The variety of parent/child relationships on this show is just so fascinating; it's a snapshot of families living in the same time and in the same place, and no two dynamics or perspectives on how a child should be raised are the same. These relationships are all deeply flawed and are sources of immense harm at times, but they're grounded in so much love.

#gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #luke danes #jess mariano #diner guys

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storiesfromafan · 1 day

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Rumours - Buck x Reader

A/N: okay, this is my first attempt at good old Gale 'Buck' Cleven, so please be nice 😅 And I am sorry in advance if its not that good haha.

Warnings: angst, possible grammer and spelling mistakes

Prompt: “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you”

Tag list: @strayrockette

When you signed up to be a nurse during the war, you had been scared of what you would see. And see you did. Many times you questioned why you did it. But meeting both Buck and Bucky, you understood why. They were funny and sweet guys. Buck the more level headed one, while Bucky was a wild card. You never know what he would do. You did what you did for them, and men like them. They needed someone that was like home while doing what they did and through this war.

They took you into their circle. Making it hard to say no to their company, which you were grateful for after a long day after being on stand by, as those injured came in for treatment. The hurt and broken men you saw, it was heartbreaking and soul crushing. Yet you did your job. Helping Doctors and tending to those in recovery.

Over time you found yourself having a silly crush on Major Cleven. And when it turned to something more – love – you thought yourself foolish. He had a sweetheart back home, waiting for him patiently. So you put those feelings away, in a box which you locked and hid the key.

Unfortunately, a few of the other nurses, ones who you think fancied Bucky more than Buck, had it out for you. For rumours started to make the rounds about you and your affections. The way eyes would watch you as you entered a room. Silence falling between those that had clearly been conversing before your arrival. And then when you heard what they were saying, it hurt. It hurt because these people, whom you thought highly of, had tarnished your reputation.

“She's trying to steal another woman’s man, how shameless".

“I heard she's thrown herself at Major Cleven and Major Egan. It's why she's always with them".

“I always thought she had no morals. She’s always too friendly with the Doctors".

That was just some of the stuff you'd heard. So you took to distancing yourself from everyone. Only being present during your shifts, meetings or at meals. Otherwise you were in your quarters, walking around the base or going into town. It was lonely being separate from everyone. But you didn’t want to stir any new gossip.

Currently you were taking a walk around the base, enjoying the nice weather. You had been over worked the last few days, having a moment like this was just what you needed. In the distance you could hear the air crafts being worked on. But other then that, it was quiet. A contrast to back home and where you lived.

If only your peace was to last. Coming up behind you, as you were looking off into the vast open area and the blue sky, was Buck. He looked worried as he studied you. It felt like forever since he had spoken to you. He was concerned about you and how you were taking the rumours going around base. Ones which he and Bucky had been working to clear up.

You heard the rustle of grass from moving feet. But you remained where you were, waiting to know who it was. You had a fifty-fifty chance on knowing who it was, though you hoped it was Bucky.

“Hey" came Buck's soft voice. And squashing your hopes on Major Egan.

“Hi" you replied, still not turning around.

There was a moment of silence between you both. You hoping he wasn’t here to talk about what people were saying. While Buck was trying to think of how to say what he was thinking. He wanted you to know he didn't believe what was being said, that he knew you were a nice and good woman who didn't deserve this slander.

“Look, about what I've heard” Buck began, making you stiffen. “I don't believe what anyone has been saying, you know that right? You're not that kind of woman".

You nodded your head slowly. “W-what have you heard?” You asked, not entirely wanting to hear his answer.

Placing his hands on his hips, Buck looked down, unsure if he should answer your question. “Let's just say what I heard, I didn't like. And both myself and Bucky have been doing our best to shut it all down".

That was when you turned around, a sad but thankful smile on your face. Seeing your face and how worn out you look, it pulled at Buck's heartstrings. He could see you were tired, but that was due to the busy last few days. But also he could see the toll how this whole rumour thing was taking on you. When you distanced yourself, it broke his and Bucky's hearts.

They had come to enjoy your company, and your spirit. The three of you always finding something to talk about or laugh at, though it was usually at Bucky's antics. He never understood how women could be so catty. But in some cases, men are just as bad.

“Everything will be alright" Buck said, looking you in the eye. “Give it a few days and it should start to go back to how it was...”

You frowned. “I'm afraid the damage is done Buck. Even if people aren't saying it, they'll be thinking it. I'll be surprised if I don't get pulled in for a meeting over it...”

“Bucky and I will stand up for you".

“That might not be a good idea. It may only make it worse" your voice weary, eyes falling to the ground.

“But none of its true, right?” He questioned, hoping he sounded worried and not accusing.

You should have said no right away, though it might have given him the wrong idea. But the prolonged silence didn't help either. You avoided his eyes as Buck tried to meet them. You turned away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“(Y/N), none of its true...?” Buck repeated himself, now with worry.

You sighed. “No...except for one thing...”

Buck moved closer to you. “What is true? You have to tell me so I, Bucky and I can help".

Thinking he was going to place a hand on your shoulder, you flinched, taking a few steps back. “I-it's embarrassing...and childish...”

Buck remained silent, urging you with his eyes to go on.

You sighed. “I-it's my feelings...for you" you ended on a whisper.

But Buck still heard it. He had heard how some women had gossiped about you being in love with him. And he had found it ridiculous. You were friends, that was it. So he had thought. But now, from your admission, those women had been right. Which didn't help the unease he was feeling over it all. He felt angry that they had spread your true feelings. Feelings you had kept to yourself, never acting on. Unlike some women he had seen. They were more shameless then you.

“I see...” he stated, voice calm and gentle.

“Yes...now you know how silly I am" you started, feeling tears rise in your eyes. “How silly I am to be in love with you. When I know I shouldn't".

“It's alright" Buck said reassuringly. “It happens...”

Those words hurt, like a slap to the face. Like he was trying to play it off, or sweep it under a rug. Like it didn't matter. Well it didn't, but some kind of assurance would have been nice. But in stead, Buck was keeping you at arms length over it. And it sparked different emotions in you; anger, frustration, hurt and sadness.

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you” you said with a strained voice. Tears in your eyes, which you were managing to hold back for now.

The look on Buck's face was like pity, how his eyes looked guilty and in despair. “(Y/N)...” his voice soft and weary.

“No Buck, don't" you held up a hand. “I don’t, can't hear it". A tear escaped and ran down your cheek. “I don't want to hear your kind words, as you let me down...I know you have Marge. And I shouldn't have let myself get carried away with being around you and Bucky. But you were both nice to me, the company that I needed. Yet I let my feelings get away from me...”

You dropped your hand, your shoulders slouching slightly as you looked down. Unable to face the gorgeous Major who'd stolen your heart. From the dashing smile, to his warm heart dancing with Meatball, and everything in between. Major Gale Cleven was the man of your dreams, but he belonged to another. A woman that Buck spoke fondly of on the nights when you had to bunker down as bombs went off near by. A woman that made you feel less than in just about every way, except being a nurse during the war.

“Marge is a lucky woman...” you stated with a small laugh. “You're lucky to have a woman like her waiting for you back home...no doubt you'll both be happy" you voice dropping at the end.

It was silent after that. You having said your piece, something that shouldn’t have been aired out, if it wasn’t for the other nurses. Buck was quiet because he was processing your words. Which struck a cord in him. And dare he say that he felt for you. Over this time together, bonded in the worst way, he had grown closer to you. He sort out your company and spirit, especially after returning from a mission that was tough. He revelled in your sunshine. Seeing you like this hurt his heart.

Neither knew what to say after all that. Buck had opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Hoping when he would go to speak the words would come to him, but there was nothing. He should have agreed with you, and said he appreciated your affections. But he couldn't. Because a small part of him liked this, and wanted it from you. And even a part of him at one point had entertained the idea of you.

But he let it be just that, a thought. He had a girl back home waiting, a sweet thing who wrote him letters and cared. Could he really lose that? Or juggle both? No, he wasn't that kind of guy. Yet Buck had feelings for you, that weren't entirely friendly.

“F-forget this ever happened Buck...” you said softly, so softly that Buck wondered if you spoke at all.

And with that, you took your leave. Heading back to your room. Back to solitude and your thoughts. It wasn't great, but its all you had till either people stopped being asses. Or the war was over. Which ever happened first.

#gale cleven x reader #buck x reader #gale buck cleven #gale cleven x you #austin butler x reader

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dragoncopper · 1 day

Text

The Apparition - Continued.

A/N: Please read The Apparition first, if you haven’t already, or this won’t really make sense.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x female Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5475

Warnings: Major character death, crying, sadness, suicide, smut, fluff

Link to The Apparition

Read the whole thing on A03 here.

You

The diagnosis was unexpected.

You sat in the doctor’s office while she was telling you about it, and you felt shaky and like your breath was not reaching your lungs and that you were kind of floating near your body, but not inhabiting it. You heard what she was saying, and yet it was not sinking in.

You felt nervous and afraid. You did not know how you were supposed to feel. How you were supposed to process the information? How were you going to explain it to him?

Driving back home you took it slow, no music. You needed the silence to be able to not feel overwhelmed and overstimulated. You dreaded seeing his face now. His reaction scared you more than any of the realities of the situation ever could. You wanted to protect him from this more than you wanted to save yourself.

You were sitting on the couch staring off into the distance for a while, you don’t really know how long, before you felt him appear. He smiled at you and came closer and soon he realised that you were not yourself and he sat down next to you. You felt the familiar dip next to you.

‘What happened?’ he asked his voice immediately worried.

You were quiet trying to decide which words to use. He placed his large hand on your lower back in a gesture of comfort and you felt the heat of it through your shirt.

‘I am… I have cancer,’ you say, your voice flat, but you needed it all out as quickly as possible. ‘It already started spreading. I…,’

‘You just had some neck pain,’ he whispers after being quiet for very long.

‘Yeah,’ you nod. ‘It’s in my spine.’

‘How,’ he started a sentence he did not know how to finish. ‘It doesn’t….’

‘I’m sorry,’ you say to him.

‘What? Why are you sorry?’ he asked with the deepest frown on his face.

‘I know this is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me,’ you say. Looking in his eyes the emotion hits you finally.

He shakes his head and leans in to you and holds you. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ he whispers. ‘What do we do? How do we fix this?’

‘There’s not much to be done. It has already spread all over,’ you reply into his shoulder.

‘But surely, they gave you some advice? Some options?’

‘I can try chemotherapy. It can slow the spread. Maybe give me more time, but by the sounds of things there is no fixing this anymore,’ you explain.

‘But you didn’t have symptoms,’ he is trying to make sense. ‘How, I don’t understand.’

‘I don’t either, Noah. I am so sorry.’

‘Stop apologizing,’ he says. He holds you quietly. After a while you feel his breathing start to pick up and you feel it begin to shake, and hitch. You hold him back tighter and for the first time since you have gotten the news, you feel the tears prick at your own eyes.

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ you say your voice small.

‘Baby,’ his voice cracking. ‘I don’t want you to hurt.’

Noah

It took me some time to convince her to do the chemotherapy. She didn’t want to, arguing that it was pointless. I argued that it gave her some more time. Gave her more opportunities to do things and live. I am sure that she is doing it purely for me. But I feel we have to try.

So, we are in the car where Nick is driving her to the hospital.

We moved a few years ago. She made the amazing and selfless decision to move closer to Nick for my sake. That way I could have my two people near me. The move felt like a new beginning for us, we picked a new flat together and moved in and I had an input, and for a while we could both imagine that we were just a normal couple moving in together.

While our lives have so many strange things about it, we were so normal and everyday that I often forgot the fact that I was dead. She loved me so fully and completely despite the fact that I couldn’t be real for her. We were happy and delusional and had started to live in our own little world where everything was what we wanted. This news cracked open that illusion. Reality caught up with us.

‘You say you have snacks and something to drink?’ Nick asked ad he pulled into the parking area of the hospital.

‘Yes, Noah packed me a whole little goody bag,’ she answered him.

‘I will be here to pick you up,’ he says with small, reassuring smile. ‘You sure you don’t want me to come?’

‘Noah is with me,’ she says. That’s all the explanation she needed to give.

‘I got it,’ I say to Nick. ‘Thank you, brother.’

‘Good luck,’ Nick said somberly.

She grips my hand to the point of pain as we walk inside. They take her to a chair with so much shit set up around it. I stand back and watch as they connect her to all the medical equipment. Then they slide the thick needle into her arm where the chemicals that is supposed to help her live longer will enter her body. She doesn’t flinch. She watches as it slides into her skin and they place a bandage over to keep it in place. The people at the hospital were being so nice and sweet and told her to not hesitate to call them if she needed anything. But my sweet girl seemed numb, she nodded along but her eyes were empty. That upset me so deeply.

When we are alone, I approach and cup her cheek. ‘You okay?’ I whisper.

She nods. ‘I think so,’ she gives me a small smile. It’s barely there.

We have to be discreet. She cannot have a full-blown conversation with a ghost in the hospital. So, she has a book to keep her entertained. I sit down in front of her on the floor, she hooks one leg over my shoulder and I roll up her pant leg, and I start massaging her calf and ankles and feet. She touches my hair every now and then, hugs me with her leg by squeezing me closer to her. Later we swop her legs. She falls asleep at some point.

Six hours later, Nick is waiting, smoking a cigarette by his car. He seemed anxious. Relief flooded his face when he sees us. She seemed okay at this time, but I know we are in for a rough night.

‘How was it?’ Nick asked.

‘It was great,’ she answered sarcastically.

‘Sorry, that was a stupid question,’ he scrunches his face.

‘No, I’m sorry. It was okay. It’s just really long, that was the most annoying bit,’ she slips into the car and leans back into the seat.

Nick squeezed my shoulder. ‘And you?’

I nod in determination. ‘She took it like a champ.’

‘How did you take it?’ he asked.

‘It broke my heart,’ I admit quietly.

You

‘Hey, Noah,’ you call to him.

‘Baby?’ he answers.

‘I need your help please,’ you approach him and he looks at you warily. You take out the clippers from behind your back. ‘It’s time.’

You can see the moment he realizes and you see the pain in his eyes. He gets up without a word and walks closer to you and takes the clippers from your hand and then kisses you solidly on the lips. ‘It’s not that bad yet,’ he says softly.

‘No, but a few clumps came loose in the shower and I just cannot handle it. I need it to be over with,’ you explain.

‘Okay,’ he nods and takes your hand and he starts for the bathroom.

‘No, can you do it in the kitchen? I don’t want to see it in the mirror,’ you say and you feel shy about admitting that.

‘Whatever you want,’ he smiles. When you’re in the kitchen he drags a chair closer. You sit down and take a deep breath. ‘You have a hair tie?’

‘Yeah,’ you dig the one you had out of your pocket. ‘Why?’

‘So can keep the hair I cut together,’ he says and he gently and with so much care gathers your hair together and ties it at the back of your head.

‘I thought I would feel sadder about this,’ you admit something to him again.

‘It’s just hair,’ he says simply. ‘You ready?’

‘Mmm,’ and you feel him cut the hair with a scissor, you feel the weight of the hair disappear. It takes him a moment before he holds the ponytail out to you. You take it and hold it, run your fingers through it. He leans over your shoulder and kisses your neck affectionately.

‘Let me know when I should continue,’ he whispers.

‘Now, please.’ You say, beginning to feel very anxious. ‘Let’s get it over with.’

You hear the harsh sound of the clippers being turned on and then he starts running it over your head. Whisps of hair fall down your back, over your shoulders, past your face and you hold your breath to not get any of it in your mouth. It also helps to keep the tears back. He takes his time; you feel him go over some spots to make sure its even. When he switches the clippers off, the silence is deafening.

He runs his hand over your scalp. ‘All done,’ he says.

‘How does it look?’ you ask, brushing across your body to get the hair off you.

‘It looks like you,’ you hear his voice is thick. Both of you keep quiet for a moment, both trying to keep composure for the other one. You busy yourselves with gathering the hair on the floor together and picking it up, using a dustpan to get the finer hairs. When it’s all clean, he grabs your hand and pulls you to him and he wraps his arms around you. With your face buried in his chest, you feel safe and like it will all be okay. His tall frame is concave so he can hold you with as much of his body as he can.

‘Let’s go look,’ you say after a while and you drag him to the bathroom. Even though you knew what you were going to see it shocks you. ‘Jesus,’ you say immediately touching where your hair used to be.

He is behind you nervously.

‘I don’t hate it,’ you say after a while with a smile. ‘It looks bad ass.’

He smiles with relief. ‘It does,’ he agrees. He steps closer and also touches your head. ‘You are the most beautiful human,’ he kisses your bald head a few times and then buries his face in your neck. You feel the wetness of his kisses and tears and pretend not to notice.

You turn in his embrace and kiss his amazing lips. God you will miss these lips. You make the first move and slide your hands under his shirt and lift it up until he lets go for a moment to lift his arms so you can pull the shirt off. You press yourself against his bare chest, immediately back to kissing him again. He leads the way to the bed without losing contact with each other.

He lays you down and starts by climbing over you. He kisses your stomach where the sliver of skin shows and moves your shirt up with his nose and he kisses every inch he can find. He slides the shirt off with practiced ease and then kisses your chest, between your breasts and removes the bra you had on. He lavishes attention on you with kisses and gentle bites.

You grab his head and bring his mouth to yours and then you change your positions, so that he is on his back. You undo his button, move the zipper down and then shimmy his trousers and boxers down at the same time. All the way down, you nearly fall off the bed to get his long legs free. He laughs for a moment. ‘Do you want me to take your socks off?’ you ask.

‘No, it’s okay. The pants were almost too much,’ he jokes.

You huff a laugh, ‘It’s not my fault your legs are that long. Scoot up, please. You are too tall.’

He moves up against the pillows, and lays diagonally across the bed. This was really the only way his frame fits on the bed. You have even taken to sleeping next to the each other stretched diagonally across the bed. You settle down between his legs that he spreads for you.

He was already halfway to being hard. Before you touch him at all, you just look for a moment. You have been feeling the strong need to memorize some things. You find yourself staring at all kinds of things about life thinking that you must file it away. But mostly it happened with Noah, who was worth remembering the most. Every single inch of his being was being recorded in your mind. His cock was slowly standing up, his balls contracting every now and again. He was pale just like the rest of his body, his head slightly darker. When he flexes again, you wrap your hand around him at the base where your hand almost rests on his balls. You hear him let out a sigh. You lick at his frenulum and he immediately bucks his hips.

‘Sorry,’ he breathes out. ‘I’ll keep still.’

‘It’s okay, baby.’ You lick again, pushing your tongue against him, before taking the head into your mouth. You stay there for a while, until he was fully hard in your hand. You start to take more of him in your mouth. You go slow, going slightly lower.

‘Oh fuck,’ he breathes repeatedly. ‘Baby.’ He is struggling to keep his hips down on the bed and it gives you a thrill to see the impact you can have on him. Even now.

‘Keep still for me, for a moment,’ you say, looking him in the eye. He nods. You sink down on him as far as you can go.

‘Fffffff, I……. B…baby.’

You smile. You love it when he couldn’t get a word out. You keep at him, following the thick veins with your tongue, paying a lot of attention to his glans. You lose yourself in your task. You memorize the weight of him on your tongue, the slightly salty taste of his skin. How his skin is so impossibly soft. How he reacts to your actions. How you feel his balls clench every now and then.

Before Noah, you never understood why women would willingly do this. Now you felt privileged to get to taste him and see him be so vulnerable with you.

Eventually he stops you, and sits up to kiss you. Your jaw hurts a little, but you kiss him back. ‘Goddammit, I love you,’ he says into your mouth. ‘Please take off your pants.’

You lay back to wrestle your pants off, he grabs the ends by your ankles and yanks. ‘Lay back, like you were,’ you tell him. He complies quickly and without argument.

You straddle his hips, and he moves the pillows so he is sitting up. With you in his lap, you were closer to a similar height. Your faces close to each other’s. He grabs himself and guides himself to your entrance and then you lower yourself onto him. ‘I love you,’ you breathe out. You take it slow and just grind into his hips. His hands moving all over your body, even lovingly over your head. You breathe each other’s breath, skin to skin, whispering words of love into the other’s mouth, throat, ear.

After you both come, you fall forward onto him and he holds you. He pulls the blankets over you both and you lay there like this is where you want to be for eternity – him still inside. ‘I will always love you,’ you try to explain to him what has been battling through your mind. ‘Nothing is going to stop me.’

He hugs you tighter. ‘Death has already tried, my love. It has no power over us.’

Noah

Nick drops us off after the final chemo session with bags of food and drinks and I hug the man before he leaves. ‘I cannot thank you enough,’ I say gripping onto his jacket.

‘My guy,’ he says. ‘I wish I could have done more. I am so sorry for you both.’

‘You have done so much for us,’ I say pulling back.

‘Let me know if you need anything else,’ he smiles sadly.

Inside, she is eating food straight from the container. I leave her, and go the bathroom, where I unroll the old sponge mattress and put a sheet over it, bring blankets and pillows. I make sure there’s tissue, ice water a washcloth. Then I join her for dinner and I have nice time. She is making jokes and smiling at me.

We shower together, we wash each other’s backs and I can tell she is trying to enjoy feeling human before the side effects hit.

We sleep together on the tiny mattress, I keep holding her because she is cold. She is always cold after. We fall asleep peacefully. But soon, I am woken by her ripping herself from my arms and she leans over the toilet on her knees and she throws up all her dinner. It comes in waves, I kneel behind her and rub her back, keeping my body close to hers for heat. She starts sweating, but her skin is ice cold. I feel all the muscles in her back contract as she keeps vomiting. She is shivering. Eventually she sits back and I wipe her mouth with the wash cloth. She blows her nose and takes a few sips of water. I open my arms and she climbs into me as close as she can get. I lay us down and cover her with the blankets.

‘I am not doing it again,’ she says. I thought she had fallen asleep. I keep quiet. I know what she is saying. I suspected this was coming. ‘I’m sorry, but I just can’t.’

‘It’s okay, love.’ I rub my hand along her arm to warm her up. ‘I understand.’

‘I would rather just enjoy what I have left,’ she whispers.

I start crying, but I try to hide it from her. But she knows. She grabs my hand, and weave our fingers together. ‘I’m sorry, Noah.’

‘Don’t be,’ I sob.

‘You know,’ she sighs. ‘The part that scares me? I don’t want to leave you. I am not scared of anything else. Everything else is nothing. I am terrified of not being with you.’

This makes me cry even harder. I am shaking by the time I get a reply out. ‘I am scared of a lot of things.’

‘Like what?’

‘This. Watching you suffer is tearing me apart. I am scared of you being in pain. But, yeah. I don’t know what will happen when…’ I cannot say it.

‘When I die,’ she finishes for me.

I nod.

‘Well, if my soul lives on,’ she says. ‘What if I don’t remember you? You know how you couldn’t remember anything.’

My heart clenches in pain. ‘I will remember for us. I will remind you of everything you need to know.’

‘I am trying to commit things to my memory. Trying to burn it into my being, so that I will remember.’

‘Things like what?’ I ask, curious.

‘Mostly you,’ she answers. ‘Running my fingers through your hair, how soft your lips are. How cold your feet are in bed. How your hand makes mine look ridiculously small when our fingers are together like this. Your kindness, and your laugh and how utterly loved and safe I feel in your arms.’

I ugly cry into the skin of her bald head and squeeze our fingers together and pull her body even closer to mine. I feel her start to hiccup too. She reaches back with her free hand and cups my head. ‘I will find you, love. I found you once, I can find you again. Just look out for me, I’ll be there.’

When we calm down, we make up scenarios of what our souls will do together. She is exhausted, but she keeps going. We fall asleep with wishes hanging on our tongues.

You

After all the bad side effects of the chemo were gone, I started feeling normal again. My hair was growing back out, I gained a little of the weight I had lost to all the vomiting back and my body felt like mine gain. It was a dangerous thing. I could so easily fool myself that everything was fine.

I decided to fill my days with as many good things as possible. Which meant spending time with Noah. For months we made a point to just do all the things we wanted.

We have game nights with Nick, where we would play video games or board games, order loads of food, listen to music and waste hours and hours laughing and having fun. It was so good to see the two friends together. To see the friendship they had after all the years. To see a different side of Noah when the two of them were heated in their discussions or arguments about game rules. I memorized the carefree way he plays. The freedom is his reactions.

You go on road trips together often. You pick famous places you’ve never been and also pick obscure spots to go see if there’s anything worth seeing. Noah always packs bags of travel accessories, he has gotten very good at it. He remembers all your medicine, your favorite sweets, drinks, tissues and extra jackets for when it gets cold. He knows how you will react better than you do yourself. He knows what you will need. While driving, you guys play the same games you started on the trip to see Nick for the first time. You hold hands while walking around. You cuddle and watch countless sunsets from the hood of the car. Each trip was immeasurably special – not because of where you went, but because of the opportunities you had to burn memories into your soul.

You spend hours cooking together in the kitchen, picking things you have both wanted to try. This does not always end in success. But it does end with dances in the kitchen, or kisses in the kitchen, laughing in the kitchen. It ends with meals enjoyed together, feeding each other, cleaning up together. Memories.

Lazy days laying about, reading books or watching movies – as long as the two of you were tangled up in some way, it didn’t really matter. During this time, you learned by accident that he gets full body chills when you play with his ears. You realised he falls asleep within minutes if you run your fingers through his hair. You craved the feeling of his weight on you – his head resting on your stomach, his legs thrown over yours, his whole body on you with his lips against your neck. You paid attention to all the details.

You and Noah had a lot of sex. You both always took your time with it, savoring every moment you had to bring each other comfort and pleasure. Even when you were being rough and harsh there was so much love. It was a way to show each other the anger, disappointment, heartbreak that you both felt. And at the same time, it was a chance to be close and pour affection and love into the other one. Each time had a lot of ‘I love you’s whispered. Each time had a rush of overwhelming emotion that caused at least one of you to cry.

When you start to realise that the medicine was not really taking away your pain anymore, you knew it was time to have a conversation with Noah.

While you were in bed, his head resting on your shoulder while your fingers ran up and down his bare back, you take a deep breath before you begin. ‘Noah?’

‘Mmmm,’ his face squished against you.

‘I think the time is getting near,’ you say.

‘What time?’ he mumbles.

‘My time. I don’t think we have very long left,’ you keep your voice low, like it would soften the words.

He lifts his head and looks at you with sadness. ‘Why?’

‘The pain is getting worse,’ you say with a grimace. ‘But, the reason I bring it up is because I have a terrible thing to ask of you.’

He closes his eyes. Like he knows. Maybe he does. He knows you better than you know yourself. This hurts your heart so much.

‘I don’t want to suffer through it, baby,’ your voice cracks.

He nods against you. ‘I don’t want you to either, love.’ You run your finger over the frown on his forehead, wanting to smooth out his worry.

‘Will you help me?’ you ask. ‘When it’s time?’

He shakes his head with small movement. ‘I don’t want to,’ his face crumples in pain. ‘I want to do anything you need, but how am I supposed to do that to you?’

‘I hate that I am even asking,’ you sniff. ‘I will do it myself. But I need you there. I need your face to be the last thing I see. I want you in my brain when it dies.’

Tears stream down both your faces. It has been happening so often lately and yet it still broke you to see his nose turn red, his lashes clumped together. He was still so fucking beautiful. After a while of contemplation, he says, ‘Alright.’

Noah

Today was the day.

When it started getting bad, it went downhill very quickly. Her pain became worse, she had no energy, no appetite. The life was draining out of her before my very eyes and it was infuriating. I had rage in me that it had to be like this. She deserved so much better.

While I understand her decision completely, it didn’t make it easy for me. The emotions warring inside me made me nauseous all the time. But I wanted her to get what she wants.

I made her her favorite breakfast that she nibbled on a little. We spoke at length about out favorite memories of our time together. We tried to make love, but I couldn’t get hard, so I made her come with my tongue and fingers instead. We cried a lot. She fell asleep on my chest, even though she said she wouldn’t, she didn’t want to waste any time with me. But she was tired. She was tired in more than one way.

I had to get into contact with Nick to hook me up, because we didn’t know the area like he did. He asked friends, that asked friends and eventually we got a lethal dose of prescription pain medication that we would use tonight. She made sure that it was more than enough.

So that evening, I crushed up the pills in the kitchen, while she was hugging me from behind. I placed the powder in a glass and filled another one with water. I placed it on our bedside table. After a hot bath and a cup of tea she dressed in her most comfortable pajamas and we sat together on the bed.

‘What will happen to you?’ she asks, leaning into me, her head on my shoulder.

‘I really don’t know,’ I answer back.

‘What if you are not okay?’ she sobs.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ I counter.

‘I only worry about you,’ she cries. ‘I’ll stay longer if it means you will be okay.’

‘It won’t, love,’ I put my arm around her and hug her into my side.

‘Here’s what I think you should do,’ she says through the tears. ‘If you can’t find me, I think you should go to Nick. You two will take care of each other.’

I laughed. ‘I did think of that.’

‘I am so sorry,’ she starts.

‘No,’ I stop her.

‘I am sorry for so many things,’ she carries on.

‘Please, don’t be sorry for one single thing. Please don’t think that even one single minute with you was not the best moments of my existence.’

‘You can’t remember your whole existence,’ she counters.

‘I know. But I know,’ I sigh.

‘You were definitely the best part of mine. I can never express how much I have loved you since I have known you. I owe my soul to you.’

I try to find words, but they won’t come to me. There isn’t really anything I can say to her that I haven’t said already. ‘You are my soul.’

She calls Nick to tell him she is about to do it. He is supposed to notify authorities. They have a brief conversation. And then I thank him and tell him I love him.

She pours the powder into her mouth, makes a face at the bitterness and then swallows it down with a few gulps of water.

She kisses me quickly. ‘I love you.’ Then she lays down and cuddles into me and I hold onto her for all I am worth.

I grip her while I cry and cry and hope to whatever god is listening that she will feel no pain. That she will be okay wherever she will go. I pray that I will find her again. I feel her breathing stop after a while, her grip on my shirt goes slack, but I keep holding on. The warmth of her body lingers and it comforts me, until I start to fade away. I can feel myself slip. Her peaceful face is the last thing I see before I, too, am gone.

You

The fog around you is thick to the point where you find it difficult to tell what time of day it is. Through the wisps of white you see tall trees all around you. The temperature around you is comfortable, even though it seems like it should be cold, it isn’t.

You have no idea why you are here or where you are going, and the fact that you cannot remember does not upset you. You walk slowly through the trees and the almost complete silence until you see a path. You follow the path as it winds between the trees and the further you go, the fog seems to lift little by little. Then a warm light becomes visible and as you get closer you see a cabin. Warm, yellow light glows from the windows, smoke curls out of a chimney, it is calling you closer.

Then when you have almost reached it, the door opens and a tall man steps outside. Your heart beats faster at the sight of him. He is wearing all white, beautiful tattoos showing on his skin, his dark hair frames his face. He smiles at you. Like he knows you.

He takes light steps down to you. ‘Hi,’ he beams.

‘Hi,’ you say, unsure of what was happening.

‘Are you lost?’ he asks you.

‘No,’ you say. ‘I don’t really know.’

‘It’s alright,’ he says. ‘I can help you if you need it.’

You look into those eyes that are so dark they are almost black and you know that he is safe. He feels familiar. ‘Do I know you?’

‘Come inside for some tea?’ he says reaching out his hand. You take it without a thought and your fingers twine like you have done it a thousand times before. ‘I have a lot to tell you.’

Inside is warmth and comfort and home. You sit near the fireplace and he hands you a cup and you drink it. It is just like you like it. ‘Who are you?’

‘More importantly, who are you?’ he counters.

You frown, not knowing the answer. ‘Do you know me?’

He nods.

A/N: This part was never supposed to happen, but a comment from someone on A03 put my mind to work. I’m sorry that this part was also sad, but in my mind, there was no other way to do this. Thank you to everyone who took actual time out of their day to read my story.

#noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian smut #bad omens #ghost noah sebastian #soulmates #noahsebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader

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espers-n-espurrs · 13 hours

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OFFSCREEN POST

Olive Branch

TWs // CWs : Hospitals, Discussions of Child Death, Discussions of Kidnapping / Child Abduction, Panic Attacks, Violence, Injury, Gore, Blood

Connected to Connecting Roots and Uprooted.

No one liked being in the hospital.

It was mind-numbing and draining, having to stay in one little room for days on end all the while doctors and nurses poked and prodded at you. It wasn’t just the medical staff that had been bothering Esper though. Police and other official looking people came and went, asking her questions that made her uncomfortable and forced her to reevaluate so much about what she knew. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like being told she was “safe now”, she didn’t like being told she was “in good hands”, she didn’t like how they talked about her da and mum, she didn’t like any of it.

Esper stared up at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze, listening to the ticking of the clock. Her face almost seemed ghostly pale if not for her reddened cheeks and nose from hours of crying accompanied by the deep bags beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. Her hair was out of its braid, white threads spooled around her in messy strands like the roots of a tree, branching off into different paths. She looked like a mess.

Everything was out of her hands. She didn’t get a choice in any of this. Her entire life had changed in a matter of days and she wasn’t sure how she was meant to feel. Her da and mum had lied to her. They had been lying to her for so long. And yet she couldn’t even begin to understand how she felt about it all. Was she angry? Sad? Happy?

A small knock on the door cut through her thoughts.

Esper’s head slowly turned toward the door, her brows furrowing slightly in aggravation. It was probably more pushy cops coming to ask her about her da. Fucking wonderful.

With a roll of her eyes she called out to them, “Come in.”

The door creaked open slightly to reveal an exhausted-looking Victoria. Despite her attempts to appear composed, the stress lines and dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed any semblance of imperturbability. Clearly, the recent revelations had been taking as much of an emotional toll on her as they had on Esper.

Esper gasped as she snapped into a sitting position, “Tor–!” She was swiftly cut off as a sharp pain shot through her chest, causing her to double over in the bed, her arms wrapping tightly around her torso as she let out a hiss of pain. “I… I shouldn’t have done that…”

Victoria instinctively lunged forwards and reached a hand out to her, but slowed herself the moment she realized Esper was not immediately dying in front of her. “Are…” She began to ask something, but trailed off with a pause before saying, “I was going to ask if you were alright, but I suppose that would be a bit redundant of me, now would it?”

The white haired girl slowly sat back up, wincing as she let out a small laugh, “Just– Just a bit, I think.” Esper looked at Victoria with a small smile, “Though I’m not the most happy about people seeing me in such a state… with my hair being down and all.”

“Oh. I can leave if you—”

“I’m joking, Tori.”

To Esper’s surprise, Victoria chuckled with a slight smile. “I thought you were—” She instantly shut her mouth right before the punchline, her face falling into a frown. She looked at her friend with an unsure tilt of her head.

“Esper.” The girl stated without hesitation, “I want to be called Esper. Or, as you have been calling me, Esp.”

“Right.” The young heiress drew in a quiet breath and nodded. “Then… Esp it shall be.”

Esper smiled in turn. She wasn’t ready to be Estelle, she didn’t know if she ever could be. It was strange really, finding out that your name isn’t your name, at least not in the way you thought it was. But she could understand why her da did it, at least from his point of view, it would’ve made everything easier for him if she didn’t have her legal name.

Though that did make her wonder…

“Why the hells didn’t my da change my brother's first name?” Esper suddenly asked aloud, tilting her head to the ceiling in thought, “Why’d he keep his first name?”

Victoria shifted uncomfortably on her feet, uncertain of how to respond.

Esper continued, “And it’s not like I can fuckin’ ask him since he fuckin’ vanished after the second Darkest Day…”

“Vanished…?”

Esper blinked in response, turning her attention back to Victoria before glancing away with an awkward chuckle as if it was funny, “Ah– Yeah. I was the last one to see him that day, he found me during the chaos and promised to go get help. He… uh… never did. No one’s found him so we don’t know what happened to him.”

The other girl’s brows furrowed. “Forgive me for asking, but how are you so certain that he never sought help?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean like he didn’t try–” Esper vaguely gestured with her hand, “It’s just that my da and authorities were the ones to find me and Juno. And they hadn’t been told by Flynn that we were there, so they tried to interview anyone they could and no one stepped forward about having been spoken to by Flynn during the disaster. So, he may have tried, though he never actually managed to get help.”

She tilted her head. “Juno?”

“I– I should just give the rundown.” Esper responded, shifting in her bed to get more comfortable before continuing on, “So. Juno was my closest friend in Spikemuth and we spent a lot of time together. On the day of the big championship match, he was over at my old flat. It was just him, me, his Nickit named Polaris, and my da’s Obstagoon named Maverick. We were having a good time until, well, the second Darkest Day started in which Maverick… was one of the Pokemon to dynamax.”

Victoria winced slightly. “In… the house?”

“In the flat building… yeah.” The girl nodded as she began to fidget with her gown, “With both me, Juno, and his Nickit in the flat with him. And so many others in their neighboring flats…”

She thought back to that day. Roars and calls of Pokemon shook the earth around her, echoing throughout Spikemuth and the surrounding area. The weight of concrete and brick crushed her body so tightly that she could barely fill her lungs with the dust-filled air. Metal debris pricked at her skin, jabbing at her sides and mudding her hair with crimson. She couldn’t move, she could barely cry out as all her energy was dedicated to keeping her alive and awake.

If only Juno could’ve been as lucky.

He was alive for a while, whispering promises of life and safety to Esper in the darkness of their prison, though his body laid frighteningly still as crimson slowly pooled around him. His mind and body grew weaker by the second. He had been impaled when the building collapsed on top of them— a large, jagged piece of rusted metal had been lodged straight through his shoulder and into the debris below. Polaris was curled up to his side, beaten and battered as much as the two children, chirping and crying to his trainer.

She remembered the way Juno’s eyes grew duller by the hour. Until they were cloudy and lifeless.

Victoria looked past the girl before her with a thousand-yard stare. The ticking second hand on the clock came to a stop, filling the room with a discomforting silence.

“We were trapped for nearly the whole day– But Flynn found us early on. He promised to go get help and… well… he never came back.” Esper let out a shaky breath, her face feeling hot, “And by the time help did arrive… Juno had been dead for several hours.”

The other girl shut her eyes and turned her head away, reaching a trembling hand to her chest. “Excuse me for a moment, Esper.” She took several deep breaths until her hands stopped shaking and the stress lifted from her face. The clock resumed its ticking, returning the familiar ambiance to the once silent room.

After a moment, Victoria cleared her throat with a wince and gestured to her head. “Um— Mind-reading.”

Esper blinked before flushing red, waving her hands frantically, “Ah– I’m sorry– I forgot– I’m sorry I’ll just stop now I’m sorry–” The girl promptly tried to fill her mind with other things such as memories of Fauna and Deerling.

“No, no, it is through no fault of your own,” Victoria tried to reason with her. “It simply caught me off-guard is all.”

“Are you sure…?” Esper looked up at her with big eyes.

“Positive. You needn’t apologize, Esp.”

“Okay…” The girl nodded in return, “I was done anyways though. That’s about everything… Well not… everything… but all the really important things.”

“I see,” she said, finally turning to look back at her friend. “If I may be so bold to ask, do you… think Flynn is…?”

“Alive? Dead?” Esper hesitantly shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t know which I would rather, which would hurt less… If Flynn is dead then… he’s gone. But if he’s alive… then he left me to die.”

Before Victoria had time to respond, there was a knock at the door.

The girl raised an eyebrow, then looked to Esper. “Are you expecting company?”

Esper huffed in response, grimacing at the door, “No. It’s probably another officer or doctor or something. Let me just–” She raised her chin to the door and called out, “Come in!”

The door slowly opened to reveal a lanky man in a black and green jacket, his hood pulled tightly over his head and casting his face in shadow. His attire was worn and dirty and his demeanor seemed akin to a kicked dog with how he hunched in on himself and how his hands trembled at his sides. He hesitantly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before turning in the direction of the two girls in an awkward fashion.

Esper and Victoria exchanged glances for a moment, then eyed the man wearily.

The man stood there silently for a minute, staring at Esper specifically for an agonizingly long before clearing his throat, “So– Um–”

At that moment, a flash of recognition and utter hatred crossed Victoria’s face. An invisible force suddenly yanked the man towards the girl while she winded up her fist and connected it directly into the center of his face. The force of her punch snapped his glasses in half and knocked the hood off of his head.

Flynn Wyrmwood was knocked to the ground, clutching his nose in pain.

With a snarl, Victoria looked down at the man and hissed, “Hablando del rey de Roma, por la puerta asoma.” She raised her leg to stomp—

“VICTORIA–” Esper shouted. “DO NOT… stomp… on….” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the older boy. A boy with darker skin than hers and yet had the same pure white hair and lavender eyes with white pupils shining brightly. Esper repeated, her heart leaping into her throat as she took in the sight of the boy, “Victoria. Stop.”

The young heiress looked back towards her friend, then to the coward at her feet. She narrowed her eyes at him, but gently lowered her foot to the floor and stepped away. “Get up,” she spat at him. A sudden force lifted him off the ground and flipped him onto his feet— not too kindly, however. The momentum from the flip threw him forwards and he bashed his face into the side of the hospital bed.

Flynn grunted in pain, barely managing to catch his footing before slowly dragging himself into a standing position, blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah– Yeah no– I deserved that–”

“Indeed you do,” Victoria cut him off.

“Victoria. Stop harming him.” Esper scolded before turning her attention to the bloodied boy infront of her, her eyes scanning his face. It was him. It was actually him. He was alive. He… he was alive.

That hurt.

“Esper…” Flynn stared back at her, seemingly also studying her. A ragged breath left him as he spoke, “You’re alive.”

“You left me.”

“I know. I’m sorry–”

Esper cut him off, her chest tightening, “You left me to die. You left Juno and I to die.”

“I’m sor–”

“Juno is dead!” Esper spat. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, “And you’re alive.”

Victoria glared silent daggers at Flynn. If looks could kill, he’d have perished where he stood.

He paused, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again and looking down in shame, “I’m sorry…”

The white-haired girl stared at her brother in silence for a while. The ticking of the clock was the only indication that time hadn’t stopped.

“Why now?”

Her brother looked up at her, blinking.

“You had plenty of chances to come back. And yet you didn’t.” Esper asked, her body aching as emotions welled up inside her.

Flynn glanced away, “I… I was scared. I am scared. Father scared me, I was scared if I came back or told anyone then…”

“You knew.”

“I…” He winced, “I did. Yes.”

“You knew the entire time.” Esper’s gaze was hundreds of miles away, “That’s why he didn’t change your name.”

Flynn only nodded in response.

The white-haired girl gripped her blanket between her hands. Her thoughts became foggy with all the questions she wanted to ask him, but one stayed at the forefront of her mind.

“Why are you here?” She asked. “Da is gone now, you could no longer be a missing person.”

Flynn took a deep breath and looked his sister in the eye, “I… I wanted to give you the choice on if I did or not…”

“What?”

“I hurt you, Esper,” her older brother swallowed, “I hurt you a lot. I didn’t want to suddenly come stomping all over it again. So I wanted to give you that choice.” He wiped the blood from his nose as he knelt down by her bedside, “Do I come back home or do I go back to whatever hole I crawled out of?”

Victoria furrowed her brows and wrinkled her nose at him.

“I…” Esper trailed off, staring down at her brother with teary eyes. Why was she being asked to choose? Why did she have to make that choice? Why was this the only choice she’s been allowed during this whole fiasco? Why this of all things? She hadn’t seen her brother in nearly two years, she had thought he was dead somewhere, possibly eaten by some Pokemon or the like. But… here he was. Asking her to make a life-altering choice for him.

She felt sick.

“I…” The girl blinked, tears running down her face before she sharply turned away from her brother. As she spoke her voice seemed almost devoid of emotion. Almost. “Stop being missing... Come out of hiding… You…” She glared at him from the corner of her eye, “You don’t get to run from this.”

Her brother gave a small smile. Tears began to run down his face, dripping onto his now bloodstained jacket. “I won’t. I promise.”

Scene End.

---------------

Victoria belongs to @victoria-vd

#pkmn irl #pokeblog rp #rotomblr #pokemon irl #rotumblr #ooc posts #offscreen post #miracle eye #connecting roots #tw hospitals #tw child death #tw death #tw gore #tw injury #tw blood #tw panic attacks #tw violence #tw child kidnapping mention #tw child abduction mention

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fruitgummies01 · 2 days

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So I managed to get time tonight to see Jung Kook's 'I Am Still' documentary, and I have many thoughts lol.

Spoiler Free Review

JK is so ridiculously talented. I'm sure it was already obvious. but seeing him in the studio, recording his first album, was amazing. He has such a unique ear for music, and it was impressive to hear him in the studio with his English-speaking producers in the U.S. JK repeatedly talked about how nervous he was whenever he was doing something new, and the astounding thing is you could never tell. His nervousness never showed. He was always delivering at such a high level, that you could never tell in any of his performances. Hearing his luscious vocals and tone in surround sound in a loud theater was worth the price of admission alone.

Spoiler Filled Review Below

There's honestly not too much to spoil. If you watched many of JK's performances during his promo run, you probably have already seen like 80% of the documentary. The TSX performance in Times Square, GMA, Global Citizens Festival, the Golden Live on Stage Showcase, and one of the performances he did in the UK were all highlighted. It's crazy that JK was sick through so much of his promo run. One of the only times he mentioned in the documentary that he was feeling in good condition was for the TSX performance. It was also very obvious how much JK's staff loves him. The fact that they were always taking care of him and asking how he slept, and would cheer if he slept well was sweet.

The behind-the-scenes of Jung Kook recording Standing Next to You, going to the doctor before his GMA performance, and the cutting of his hair all felt like the most significant scenes to me that were actually new. JK recording SNTY really showcased his genius as a musically gifted artist. I mentioned this earlier in my spoiler-free section but JK has a remarkable ear for music, and the fact he could hear a note sung by a producer, immediately knew what they wanted and how to sing it, and deliver it back despite the language barrier was insane. Even though JK was too humble to admit it in the documentary, he 1000% is a musical genius with an innate natural ability that can't be taught.

In terms of appearances by other members, there was not much. While rehearsing Permission to Dance for Global Citizen Festival (I think lol) JK mentioned that Jin and Jimin drive him crazy because of how high their parts are in the song, and that fact he had to sing their parts 😅. He visited Barnes and Noble and saw all the members albums. Tae made a suuuuuper awkward appearance while JK was recording lol. JK's one-arm sideways half hug (with his other hand still in his pocket) made me laugh. Next, Jimin. I have no idea if JK had any input on how the documentary was put together, but Jimin making an appearance at the very end, being one of the last things included, actually felt so meaningful. JK had just buzzed off the rest of his hair, had finished recording Never Let Go, and went to find Jimin. Seeing Jimin's full body reaction to seeing JK's hair for the first time felt equal parts funny and emotional. JK leaned into Jimin as Jimin rubbed his head and then asked him how it looked, like he needed his encouragement at that moment. I thought it was really touching. The scene with Jimin and the scene with his barber/hairstylist who cried after cutting JK's hair felt like two of the most personal scenes in the film that didn't have to do with JK as the artist, but with Jung Kook the person.

This leads me to a few of my issues. While I loved it, I did at times find myself wishing it was a little more personal. A lot of time was spent on interviews with his English-speaking producers who worked on Golden and their thoughts, but thankfully PDogg and Son Sung Deuk were also included to add some much-needed insight into Jung Kook as a person. (I don't want to get flamed for mentioning it, but I really hated seeing Scooter appear, but thankfully he remained in the background during Seven's recording.) The jumping around in time didn't really work for me either, but maybe it's because I was crazy locked in during that time and know the exact order in which his performances happened lol. I also wonder why they didn't include more rehearsal or practice dance footage. They included sooo many full performances from Golden Live on Stage and so much hard work and preparation had to have gone into pulling that off, so it was a little surprising not to see much behind-the-scenes content from it. Or maybe BigHit is saving that footage to use at a later time, which would be very like them lol.

Overall, I would HIGHLY recommend everyone watch 'I Am Still' to see Jung Kook's genius at work on the big screen!!! For a 1 hour and 33 minute documentary , it was time very well spent. Again thank you again to the anon who messaged me asking for my review, this very very long review is really all your fault haha. 😅

#jungkook #i am still #bts jungkook #jung kook

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covid-safer-hotties · 5 hours

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Also preserved on our archive

By Hayley Gleeson

There wasn't a dramatic "lightning bolt" moment when Colin Kinner realised he needed to roll up his sleeves and start tackling what he'd come to see as a pernicious problem: the largely unchecked spread of SARS-CoV-2 in Australian schools.

What spurred him to act, in the end, was the growing pile of evidence that COVID was a serious health threat, and his concern that school communities seemed to be shrugging their shoulders at it.

He was tired of hearing about schools allowing teachers to come to work while COVID positive. Of sick children being permitted to stay in class and infecting others. Of schools asking parents not to tell them if their child had COVID, but routinely sending home letters about head lice or chickenpox. Of teachers and kids catching the virus and not recovering.

"As a parent, I want my son to be safe at school, so that was a key part of my motivation to do this," says Mr Kinner, the Brisbane creator of COVID Safety for Schools, a free online course that aims to correct misinformation and teach school staff and parents how to reduce the risk of the virus spreading. "But also, having spoken to lots of other parents and teachers, it's clear that most schools are lacking an understanding of some of the absolute basics of COVID. And in the fifth year of the pandemic, I find that very troubling."

Every week in Australia too many students and teachers are catching COVID at school, Mr Kinner says, resulting in disrupted learning, teacher shortages, increased transmission in the broader community and disabling chronic illnesses like long COVID. It's hardly surprising: a packed classroom can be the perfect place for an airborne virus to thrive, with one US study finding more than 70 per cent of COVID transmission in homes began with an infected school-age child.

Schools aren't necessarily at fault: in most states they've been starved of good public health guidance, Mr Kinner says — they've been told "they can treat it like any other respiratory illness, so that's exactly what they're doing".

Step one: correct misinformation A science and technology communicator and startup mentor, Mr Kinner's solution was to assemble a team — some of Australia's leading experts in public health, medicine and engineering — who could explain in simple video tutorials the health risks of COVID, the science of how it spreads, and strategies schools can use to keep staff and students well. The ultimate goal of COVID Safety for Schools, he says, is to change minds and behaviour and, since it launched in February, 600 participants have signed up, about half parents and half teachers.

But perhaps its greatest challenge is engaging people in the first place, particularly those who believe COVID is harmless or no longer worth taking precautions against.

For the past couple of years Australians have been encouraged to keep calm and carry on as if the virus is in the rear view mirror, even as it continues sickening and killing people, albeit in smaller numbers than years gone by. News reports often downplay its severity, if they cover it at all, while political leaders, public health officials and doctors have claimed it is no cause for concern, especially in children, and that catching it is not just inevitable, but necessary.

But mounting evidence shows the opposite. Even in vaccinated people and those who suffer "mild" infections, COVID can trigger a range of health problems including cardiovascular disease, diabetes, neurological conditions and immune dysfunction. Then there's long COVID, a debilitating multi-organ illness that has upended the lives of hundreds of millions of children and adults worldwide, many of whom do not fully recover.

"COVID is like an accelerator for all the other diseases that we hate — it's actually an aging accelerant as well," Professor Jeremy Nicholson explains in one of the course videos. "And we don't want that for our kids or anybody else."

Simple steps can stop COVID spreading Once apprised of the health risks, course participants are taught about evidence-based tools schools can use to reduce viral transmission. These are not outlandish or burdensome interventions, but common sense steps like encouraging teachers and students to stay home if they're sick; improving indoor air quality with ventilation and filtration — with air conditioning systems, air purifiers and good old-fashioned open windows; and promoting mask wearing particularly in high-risk settings like crowded indoor gatherings or bus trips.

Of course, some education departments already require schools to take similar measures. In Victoria, for instance, all public schools must "maximise" external ventilation, ensure air purifiers are used, encourage good personal hygiene and make face masks available for those who want to wear them. But that doesn't mean schools actually follow the guidelines or use the tools at their disposal (in 2021 the government delivered tens of thousands of air purifiers to schools across the state, but many are no longer used and some have since been listed for sale on Facebook Marketplace).

The federal president of the Australian Education Union, Correna Haythorpe, says any initiative that educates people about COVID and what schools can do to prevent infections is "welcome". Teachers who have to take sick leave because they've caught COVID or developed long COVID are an additional burden on schools, many of which are struggling with the "chronic" national teacher shortage, she says. Then there's the disruption to learning: "A contagious disease can very quickly … take out significant numbers of students. And fundamentally, we want kids to be engaged, we want them to be well, we want them to be learning."

Improving the situation, though, requires stronger leadership from education departments, Ms Haythorpe says. "Current government approaches to limiting COVID infection, repeat infection and long COVID demonstrates a lack of concern for the health and wellbeing of students, teachers and broader school communities," the AEU wrote in its submission to Australia's parliamentary inquiry into long COVID. Mitigation measures in many public schools are not adequate, it said, "and a lack of capital investment … since 2017 means that conditions are often cramped with inadequate air flow".

'Long COVID basically ended my career' For Amanda Sharpe, these problems are personal. Before she developed long COVID after catching the virus from her children in 2022, Ms Sharpe taught advanced maths at a high school in Bundaberg, Queensland. She used to spend full days on her feet, relishing the buzz of helping her students solve complex equations, preparing them for careers in fields like medicine and aerospace engineering.

Now, just sitting upright for a short spell or reading a simple news story can quickly worsen her symptoms and wipe her out for days. "Long COVID basically ended my career and I doubt that I'll ever be able to return," she says. "Unless there is an actual cure, I think that will be it for me."

It's bewildering that schools aren't taking stronger action to protect their staff and students from COVID, says Ms Sharpe, who tells her story in the COVID Safety for Schools course. A major issue is that many people still think of COVID as a respiratory illness, she says — they don't realise it can also attack the vascular system, damaging blood vessels and increasing the risk of clotting abnormalities, stroke and heart disease.

She also wishes more people knew that the virus can cause brain changes and cognitive impairment: one study, for instance, found people who recovered from "mild" COVID infections had lost the equivalent of three IQ points.

"With the maths I teach, you really can't afford to have your IQ drop," Ms Sharpe says. "I just don't understand why schools aren't implementing simple measures like improving indoor air quality — especially private schools, where academic results link directly with enrolments and success."

In response to previous disease outbreaks like Spanish flu and tuberculosis, schools moved lessons outdoors — sometimes in freezing winter temperatures — to stop children from getting sick, she says. "But we don't want to have classroom windows open in Queensland? It just seems insane to me."

What about WHS laws? It may also be unlawful. Australians may have been led to believe that public health orders in force until 2022 were the key reason employers, including schools, had to take steps to protect staff from COVID, says Michael Tooma, a partner at the law firm Hamilton Locke. But schools have always had to comply with workplace health and safety laws — "there has always been a duty of care", he says. "COVID presents a risk to health and safety and, like any other risk, it needs to be managed with proactive policies and procedures that try to eliminate the risk or reduce it as far as reasonably practicable."

At the very least, Mr Tooma says, schools should be excluding people with COVID from the workplace, improving ventilation in classrooms and auditoriums and maintaining sensible cleaning and hygiene regimes.

Schools that fail to meet their WHS legal obligations may be reported to and investigated by state regulators, which can issue improvement notices and in some cases bring prosecutions for serious breaches of the relevant legislation.

Still, Mr Tooma says he's not aware of any schools being prosecuted for COVID-related breaches and in general, regulators tend to focus on industries that have higher risks of serious physical harm and death, as well as "campaign" issues like mental health. "Regulator activity tends to follow public interest and so as public interest in COVID and COVID safety has waned, so has regulatory activity around it, in my experience."

Mr Kinner suspects it's probably going to take successful litigation for schools to start taking COVID more seriously. He points to a UK case in which 120 teachers with long COVID are suing the Department of Education for allegedly failing to protect them at the height of the pandemic. Those involved say they were not given good enough guidance for managing the risks the virus posed, with data showing teachers suffered high rates of infection and long COVID.

"I think it's only a matter of time before we see similar legal action in Australia," Mr Kinner says. "It could be from teachers, it could be from families who caught COVID because it came into their household via the school. I think it's inevitable."

In the meantime, he will keep trying to get COVID Safety for Schools in front of as many teachers, parents and principals as he can — even if it takes a while, even if they don't want to hear its message.

"I've been very surprised at how school leaders don't act when they're presented with this information, even people who go through the course and understand — or should understand — that this is a virus we should be taking very seriously," Mr Kinner says. "Because facts remain facts. Even if you don't like them, even if they make you feel uncomfortable, they're still facts."

#mask up #pandemic #covid #covid 19 #wear a mask #public health #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #still coviding #wear a respirator #long covid #covid conscious #covid is not over

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hayanwulf · 1 day

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IronStrange:

One of them performs CPR on the other.

Fun fact: a defibrillator can’t actually revive a patient who ‘flatlined’.

Shocking, I know. I guess that’s modern media misrepresentation for you.

PS: At the cost of being a lil hypocritical.. the chance of getting an unshockable cardiac arrest (aka flatline or ‘asystole’) in our scenario, and then also surviving it with CPR, is ridiculously, laughably low. So, Stephen really shouldn’t have survived here, or flatlined in the first place... But hey, the movie itself threw realism out the window, so you can’t tell me shit.

The empty mug comically slipped from his grip, meeting the floor in an ear-deafening shatter.

Tony did not hear it, however, not over the pounding of heartbeat in his ears that immediately followed the almost-heart attack he got at the sight of a literal portal on fire inside his workshop, out of which stumbled his ex-fiance who he had not seen for eight months, hands clutching bloody chest, face drained of color and contorted in pain, steps staggering and making him crash against an equipment.

“The hallucinations are getting crazy,” Tony murmured.

“It’s not a hallucination, Boss,” FRIDAY announced, an urgency to her voice, pulling Tony out of his disbelief-induced state of shock — bless his AI. “Doctor Strange needs immediate medical attention! He’s been stabbed on the chest.”

Tony’s heart only lurched further at the last bit, but he forced his feet to move, shoved all thoughts to the back of his mind, beelining straight for his very mortally injured ex-fiance who was now leaning against god knew what, looking up at Tony with wild, terrified eyes.

“Cardiac Tamponade,” Stephen muttered, his voice weak with a bit of tremble to it, as Tony came to his side to carefully support him. “There’s blood in the pericardial—”

“Shut up!” Tony snapped, felt Stephen flinch against him, and immediately cursed himself for lashing out like that for no reason. He just.. god, this was the first time Tony was seeing Stephen after seven goddamn months, and it was to find him injured — mortally injured — and the first thing Stephen spoke to him was godforsaken diagnosis of how severely close to death he was.

He looked back at the portal once and suppressed a shudder, before shifting his focus back on Stephen to help lead him over to the small infirmary that was built right next to his workshop. “Just.. what the fuck, Stephen?”

Stephen winced, throwing a glance behind his shoulder at the portal, misunderstanding what Tony truly meant. “Sorry, that’s..” He made them pause and waved a hand at the tear in reality behind them.

Tony watched in awe for a moment as the portal quickly shrank and disappeared, remnants of glowing orange dust in the air the only evidence that something had even existed there a moment ago.

“What just—” Tony cut himself off. Not important right now.

He shook his head to dispel all other thoughts and focus solely on Stephen because oh god there was so much blood, Stephen was hurt, Stephen was dying—

“FRIDAY!” He called out, voice wavering with the panic that grew in him with each passing moment as he led Stephen to the adjacent infirmary.

“There is no medical staff at the Compound, Boss..”

“Why!?” Tony asked as his heartbeat spiked at the realization, even though he already knew why.

No one lived in the Compound anymore. All of the staff had been long since dismissed.

As he led Stephen towards the nearest operating table, Tony spared only a brief moment to wonder why, despite there being nobody and nothing in this large establishment, was it that Tony continued to stay here.

He helped Stephen lay flat on the operating table and began to undo.. whatever it was that Stephen was wearing, all the while chanting under his breath, “I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this..”

“Tony,” Stephen spoke, grabbing hold of Tony’s wrist and looking him in the eye. “You can, I know it.”

Tony helplessly shook his head because he couldn’t. How could Stephen think that he could?

But, god, there was no time, no choices.

Stephen either had him, or nothing.

Tony felt the exact moment Stephen’s grip on his arm grew weak, saw his eyes flicker as he fought to keep them open.

“I trust you..” Stephen said weakly, and then passed out, his hand going limp over Tony’s.

Tony stared for a moment.

“Boss?”

FRIDAY’s voice pulled him out of his daze. He looked up at the heart graphs, then back at Stephen’s limp body, and then back up at the heart graphs to be absolutely extra sure he hadn’t lost Stephen yet. His mind was nothing but panicked haze and adrenaline, and logic fought emotion as he struggled to simply act, to do something because he was losing Stephen right in front of his eyes and oh god he needed to save him—

“FRIDAY, w-what—” He swallowed as his voice wavered, “what do I do?”

“Boss, you are close to having a panic attack—”

“And he’s close to dying, dammit! What do I do!?”

“He needs a pericardiocentesis.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“Just get the needle, second shelf from the top.”

FRIDAY guided him through the surprisingly simple, yet downright horrifying procedure of stabbing a needle straight into Stephen’s heart to drain out the blood stuck in his pericardium, decompressing the pressure on his heart. There was a large stab wound on the left side of his chest. The sight of so much blood — of Stephen’s blood — made Tony feel lightheaded, its suffocating metallic scent tangible in his mouth, tasting like copper, all the while his eyes watched the screens of vitals with sharp attention, witnessing as Stephen’s heartbeat grew weaker and weaker, every digit of drop in the heart rate making dread pool heavier in his stomach, making his gut twist sickeningly.

He was holding Stephen’s delicate, precious life in his hands and god, it was terrifying.

How did you do this every single day? Tony silently asked the man lying unconscious in front of him, the back of his eyes stinging as tears formed in them.

If Stephen died now, here, like this, Tony could never forgive himself.

It was those thoughts that roared loud in his mind, in tandem with the beeping of the heart monitor, as he held onto the needle drawing out a nauseating amount of blood.

Even after most of the clogged blood from the walls had been drained out, Stephen’s heart remained weak, his low heart rate not recovering.

And then it happened, just as he pulled out the needle.

Tony’s entire world came to a halt at that sharp, ear-deafening beep of the heart monitor.

“You need to start CPR, now!” FRIDAY spoke up immediately, voice loud and clear over the shrill beep.

“I—the defibrillat—”

“That won’t work, you have to do CPR!”

Tony didn’t question her. He trusted his babygirl, trusted her to help him save Stephen’s life, and moved up to Stephen’s face, tilting his head up, chin held in his hand.

30 compressions, 2 breaths.

He would not lose Stephen. He would not.

Steadying his resolve as he inhaled a deep breath, he pinched Stephen’s nose and then dipped down to seal their mouths together, before blowing into Stephen’s mouth, watching from the corner of his eye as Stephen’s chest rose. He repeated the action, blowing a second rescue breath into Stephen’s mouth, and then quickly moved to his chest.

Taking care to not place his hands over the stab wound currently sealed with nanites, he pushed down forcibly at Stephen’s chest and set up a fast pace, counting the compressions in his head, acutely aware of his speed as well as the relentless beeping of the heart monitor that continued to echo in the background.

After 30 compressions, he repeated the two rescue breaths, and moved to performing compressions again.

Seven.. eight.. nine..

Tony froze when the incessant beeping of heart monitor stopped, to be replaced by a barely there pulse, the graph displaying a weak heart rhythm that was all over the place.

Tony could’ve cried right then. Maybe he did.

“Don’t stop,” FRIDAY’s voice instructed him, and so he didn’t, continuing with the chest compressions.

Two more cycles passed by the time FRIDAY said, “You can shock him now, Boss.”

Tony didn’t waste another second in fetching the defibrillator. He applied the conductive gel over the two paddles before placing one on the right side of Stephen’s sternum and the other below his left nipple — thank the science gods Stephen’s injury didn’t get in the way of their placement — and let FRIDAY decide the appropriate voltage. He pressed down hard on the paddles, steering clear of any other contact to Stephen’s body as the equipment delivered shock.

The heart rhythm graph reacted immediately, and Tony watched in awe as the entire electrical activity was reset and started producing a much healthier, stable rhythm. The pulse reacted to it, quickly gaining strength.

Tony’s knees nearly buckled from the sheer intensity of relief that washed over him, watching Stephen’s heart gain its strength back right in front of his eyes.

Stephen’s eyes flew open with a start and a gasp, and Tony was immediately by his side, the defibrillator abandoned. He panted, eyes glazed and darting wildly at first, until they slowly regained focus. Tony placed a hand on Stephen’s arm, wanting to help him, wanting to give him something to anchor himself to.

But mostly to reassure his own self that Stephen was still here.

“God, that feels weird in the astral plane,” Stephen murmured, his voice a little raspy, before a weak laugh escaped his lips.

“You think this is— wow.” Stephen was laughing. It hadn’t been five minutes since Tony had pulled this man out of the claws of death and now here he was, laughing. Tony felt his body vibrate, his inside burning up with this infuriating mix of anger and.. and.. ugh! He didn’t know.

Never had he felt something so strong, so nauseatingly gut-churning before.

Christ, was this the anger that Stephen felt every time Tony had looked death in the eyes and walked the other way with a victorious smirk on his lips? Was this the exasperation he had always seen in Rhodey’s face when Tony had dismissed his own near-death experiences? Was this the horror Pepper felt every time, as she watched Tony’s gruesome injuries be patched up by Stephen?

“Tony..?” Stephen called out in a small, uncertain voice, causing Tony to turn back to him. Whatever Stephen found there, it made him flinch. Good. After a second, he tentatively added, “I’m.. sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Tony snapped. “You.. you fucking walk out on me without ever telling anything, not even a message, a note, nothing. A-and the next time I see you, you’re walking out of a wormhole with.. with a stab on your chest, bleeding all over my lab. And you’re sorry. You fucking died, Stephen!”

Tony realized that he was visibly shaking now, his breath coming in hitches as thick tears streamed down his face. He sat himself down on the edge of Stephen’s table, wiping both his hands over his entire face, just trying to collect himself. God, it felt like someone was squeezing his heart trying to make it burst.

What would he have done, had Stephen died here today? Because of his inadequacy, because he didn’t know what to do, how to act fast, how to save the life of his fiance?

A shaky hand landed on his arm, making him remove his hands from his face to turn and look down at Stephen.

His ex-fiance had a remorseful look on his face as he interlocked their fingers.

“You did an amazing job, Tony. You saved me.”

Some of Tony’s tense energy melted, and he exhaled a shaky breath with closed eyes.

Stephen was alive. Stephen was here. Because Tony had managed to save him.

“Thank you,” Stephen added after a moment.

Tony opened his eyes and glanced at Stephen from the corner of his eye. “Fuck you.”

He felt it more than heard when Stephen’s chest rumbled with a laugh, and Stephen immediately winced.

Right, the wound must hurt like a bitch.

“Hold on,” Tony said and went to fetch a fresh needle and a vial of painkiller.

A minute later, he unceremoniously dumped the used needle on the appropriate bin as he spoke, “So what’s up with the glowing wormholes and your LARP wizard costume?” He leaned himself against an equipment near Stephen’s table, who was now sitting upright, putting the said LARP costume back on. “Or do we wanna talk about who wanted to roleplay too realistic murder mystery with you? Oh, I have a better idea. How about we start from where the hell did you fuck off to in Nepal?”

Stephen winced, and this time it wasn’t from the physical pain. “I shouldn’t have left you like that?”

“Yeah? Well, good thing that I’m used to being left behind by the people I trust,” Tony spoke, voice laced with venom. A memory flashed in his mind. Blood tainting the white of snow, the feel of metal growing lethally cold all around his body, the dead weight of a dead arc reactor sitting over his chest.

He suppressed a shiver, shoving the memory away.

Stephen, of course, knew nothing of the said memory, and a hint of confusion mixed with hurt flashed over his features. “I.. I’m really sorry, Tony. I have to go.”

Tony blinked, doing a double take of what he’d just heard. “I’m sorry, did you just say that you have to go?”

“Yes.”

“Where!?” Tony snapped, not quite able to hide the irritation in his voice.

Stephen bit his lower lip, expression twisting in contemplation, clearly weighing his options about what he wanted to tell Tony. He then sighed and looked up at Tony.

Tony didn’t know what answer he had expected to hear.

‘I moved on.’ ‘I have another life now, one without you.’ ‘Stop trying to follow me.’

But what he got wasn’t something he’d have expected to hear in a thousand years.

“I was learning magic in Nepal.”

It left him staring dumbfounded, simply trying to grasp what he was hearing.

Stephen sighed again, averting his eyes. “You saw the portal, right?”

Tony swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling too dry as a new, terrifying kind of realization dawned on him. “Yeah.”

Stephen closed his eyes. “There are.. more like us. Good and bad. And the bad ones are going to try to destroy this world, with magic.” He got off the table then, getting on his feet, and stood a foot away from Tony, looking him in the eyes. “I have to go, Tony.”

Too much. This was all too much. First he watched Stephen stumble out of the goddamn portal, watched him die on the table, resuscitated him.. now he was learning that..

Magic.

Stephen was magic.

He’d been learning magic on Nepal, all this time, while Tony was left fumbling alone trying to gather even the tiniest scrap of information on this man, just enough to know that he was fine, that he was alive.

Tony was left with an odd mix of unadulterated fury and debilitating fear bubbling beneath his skin.

Hesitantly, Stephen reached out and took one of Tony’s hands in his shaky grip, brought it to his mouth, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the back on his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said one last time and let go of Tony’s hand, turning to walk away.

Tony caught his arm before he had fully turned, making him pause and look back at Tony.

“I’m coming too,” Tony declared, letting his determination shine in his tear-streaked eyes.

Stephen slowly shook his head. “There will be magic, Tony.”

Tony spread his arms, summoning Mark XLVII, which flew into the infirmary from his workshop, opened up and quickly wrapped itself around Tony’s body in one quick, flawless motion, only leaving his head uncovered. He could see it in Stephen’s awestruck expression that he was impressed by its smoothness and elegance.

“I’m coming,” Tony repeated, “and that’s final.”

Coming because he would not back down in the face of magic. Coming because he had a duty to this world.

Coming because he would not let Stephen walk into danger all by himself.

Stephen looked at him from one eye to the other, swallowed, and nodded once.

“Close your eyes, I have to open a portal.”

Tony did, trusting Stephen.

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #fic #mcu fanfiction #hayans tumblr shorts #cpr #medical emergency #let it be known that hayan hates medical shit with a burning passion #this was so worth it though #also apparently hayan doesnt understand the concept of drabbles #im a lost cause yall #still so worth it

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