#boy needed heavy prescription glasses to see the love of his life and all he’s been looking for lives across the street smh

[inklore]

“in those moment alone, as my fingers trace freckles from cheek to collarbone, or as i watch the way starlight dances across skin, i marvel at how one can feel such intimacy, but also such great distance.”

colin really said yeah sex is great and all but what about love? what about yearning? what about feeling someones soul? what about looking into the eyes of someone and feeling seen, like you’re home. ahhh!!!

[obeymeluv]

Cute + Awkward Headcanons (SFW/NSFW)

Trying to turn a bad day around, so I thought of these

Lucifer

Sometimes you can’t tell if he’s giving you bedroom eyes or if he’s actually angry. Lucifer has spent THOUSANDS of years glaring at his brothers and doesn’t know if he’s just staring or glaring

I think he’s super out of practice with romance so he’s hella awkward but when he gets that first positive sign that you’re into him, the charm and pride wakes up and suddenly he’s smooth AF

Flirts so formally he misses his shot 8/10 times

Has a habit of trying to police you like one of his brothers and it’s a knee-jerk, 1000+ year reaction to looking after 6 man-children of various difficulties. Always owns up and apologizes

Has accidentally almost made you pass out from kissing too long. Forgets you don’t have the same lung capacity

BRUISES YOU TO HELL! FORGETS SO MUCH! FEELS SO BAD!

That’s why he has the gloves, to soften his grip because he was one of the strongest in the Celestial Realm and that translates to power in the Devildom

Only complains to you about his back pain from long nights burning the candle at both ends. You find it cute and sad at the same time

Is probably physically very heavy given his stature and the weight of his wings, so if he falls asleep on you, you’re trapped

Rare midnight snack dates when he MUST finish papers by the deadline.

You may or may not have had a Demonus date in his study when a particularly bad batch of paperwork was finally done

You’ve probably cracked at least one (1) antique wood chair

Quickly learned he CANNOT spank you because that shit seriously bruised your ass. You either need a strengthening charm or he has to re-learn how to use his strength around people

That caused one awkward visit to the infirmary because you didn’t know if you were just sore, pinched, dislocated, or cracked. Turns out you were fine. There was no mistaking that hand print, though

It was the second time he’d apologized so profusely in his life. There was no pride left in this man.

You had a special cushion to ease the pain and it looked top of the line (hella fancy. Could probably resell it as fake Gucci in the human world.)

Lucifer gives me big dom vibes and orgasm denial/over-stimulation kink because of his pride basically demanding you beg for him. You passed out at least once from over-stimulation.

When you first start dating he wouldn’t want to own up to any awkward boners so if you sit in his lap while he’s taking a paper break, he’ll make every excuse under the sun (”That’s my belt,”, etc.)

Mammon

This boy is nothing but awkward moments, are you kidding me?

It’s a lot of ‘open mouth, insert foot’ because he can’t be upfront with his feelings. It’s partly not wanting to lose any ‘cred’ he has with people, but also because he’s embarrassed and can’t be honest

There’s lots of tracking you down to sort out things you might have overheard (that he didn’t honestly mean if they sounded bad)

Super sentimental about anything to do with you. You once kissed a piece of Grimm as a good luck charm for his exam and he’d kill someone over it. Always has it on him.

This lovable doofus just assumes you’re dating because you’re always together and you’re perfect and he’s your best man so who’s better?!

When you actually ask him out (with something silly, like ‘I think us dating would be pretty cash money’), he’s so confused. (”But we’ve been dating for, like, a month! Right, human?!”)

He talks big but he’s weak. You’ll always be able to fluster him

Wanted to make love to you on some Grimm and quickly realized that it’s uncomfortable. Porn lied to him and the idea’s ruined. You guys cut the session short to find every piece of Grimm so you can actually lay in the bed

 Tends to plunk his head down on your chest and demand scratches/cuddles and has bruised you several times.

Accidentally fought you once or twice for his glasses while half asleep. Levi, Asmo, and Satan used to take them and hide from him

You learned he’s actually hella blind (contacts with non-prescription sunglasses or prescription yellow glasses) and have walked him around the House of Lamentation several times when his glasses went missing

He’ll complain about his brothers having it out for him and getting back at him, but it turns out they just wanted to make an excuse for you guys to hold hands. It’s like a date!

Made you hit your head on the headboard once when he was doing missionary style. Had to stop and check on you, then it got awkward. He cuddled and kissed you the whole time, though. Even got you an ice pack!

The type to flirt with you, try to lean on something, and take himself out on the way down

You’ve had a few of those cliche ‘trip and fell on each other’ moments

Has accidentally swung you into doors and walls trying to scoop you up and run/march out of a room

Levi

This boy is also super awkward

When you’re alone, he’s an absolute sucker for any kind of affection you can give. This boy will literally slither across the floor to make himself comfortable in your lap so he can game.

Pet his hair. He loves that.

Will also have to re-train himself on how to be with you in public. With him, it’s not making fun of a ‘normie’ as much.

Not big on PDA but will definitely hold your hand. How ELSE are people going to know you’re together?!

You get cute matching shirts or jewelry with the ‘Player 1, Player 2′ theme

Does a lot more snake-like things with his tongue. Especially when frustrated. Rub his jaw and chin to see it come out a little bit. It’s like a happy floppy dog tongue, just not as long or wide.

Craves a soft, warm thing to sleep on. You will be his new bed.

The first time you had sex, he broke out his demon form because he looked at you and loved you. He knew he’d get jealous if anyone ever saw you.

Was a little clumsy but determined. Sank in and started going at it, but wanted to look down and watch. He got his horns stuck in your hair and had to stop.

Is #1 fan when you’re naked. (”Ugh. Smother me.”) Boy can’t stand it. He needs it.

Tries to dress a little nicer (even if it’s casual) when you guys go out on dates.

You pack little snack bags when he stands in line for midnight releases and GODDAMN he’s gonna marry you?!

If you’re napping together and someone comes to wake him up or needs you, he just glares at them from underneath you, tail swishing threateningly. No one takes his human, okay?!

He has over-the-ear headphones but I bet he carries earbuds and has probably done that ‘share an earbud’ thing to hold you close and listen to music

Do you need to get up while he’s still sleeping? Untangle yourself and tuck your pillow in his arms. He’ll be fine. Bonus: you get to see the snuggling in action.

Between all the anime and centuries in the Devildom, he’s gotten used to using tails as another way of expression. They act subconsciously based on what the demon’s thinking. He’s surprised both of you several times by accidentally wrapping you up in his tail because he doesn’t want you to leave.

When he gets visibly uncomfortable in social situations, slip him something with your scent on it. It’s comforting. If you make up an excuse to get him out of there (he’s your escort and all), he’s over the moon.

Satan

Had more awkward moments than he’s willing to admit, but he’s more open about them than Lucifer. Basically, if someone guesses it happened, he won’t deny it.

BOY HAS A BOWTIE KINK. PLAY WITH HIS. STEAL ONE AND WEAR IT!

Has probably tripped over books walking you through his room or rushing to answer the door (not that you’d know how happy it makes him).

There’s a 50-50 chance that he’ll steal a glance and act like he didn’t, hiding behind an upside down book or something

Has definitely dropped books on his head after charming them down from the shelf. Your voice just sucks all his concentration up. You get bonus points for checking on him because some of those books are HELLA HEAVY

Say the right thing during a quiet tea session and you might hear him choke

Has probably been outed by one of his friends. Satan always seems to make friends without trying and gets invited to tons of stuff. What didn’t seem like a date turns out to DEFINITELY be a date (according to the friend).

Plan some silly treasure hunt/detective date and this guy is yours for life (especially if you’re the prize at the end).

Isn’t the most upfront about the disdain for his demon form, or how he feels weird about not being a true angel (just an extension of Lucifer), so expect a lot of raw, near-tears conversations in his demon form.

Hold him, run your fingers along the inside of his wings and the tips of his horns and Satan hugs you like there’s no tomorrow. He’ll cry, but he doesn’t regret these tears because they’re healing.

Weak for hand kisses. Smooch them hands.

Not super into PDA, but he’ll do other things to show he cares like carry your books and make sure you know what the weather’s like before you leave

Satan still hasn’t lived down the time Lucifer and the others broke down his door because they smelled blood and thought he’d hurt you. Turns out you guys were having sex and he just bit too hard.

Wouldn’t talk to any of them for a week. He swept you up on an impromptu hotel vacation and you continued to avoid everyone by shopping and eating at cafes.

The type to hold your panties hostage or like a trophy. Gives them back eventually, and enjoys watching Mammon almost have an aneurysm as he tries to figure out why his room smells so strongly of you.

Tea dates, cat cafe dates, and plenty of couple pictures with cat filters. Satan’s Devilgram activity goes up substantially when he’s dating.

You’re not his lock screen, but you’re his background. 

Asmo

When you two start dating Asmo is literally the happiest demon in all of Devildom. Yeah he’s smug and cute like ‘how could they NOT fall for beautiful me?’ but boy is literally so stoked. All of that babble’s just a cover for how sickeningly happy he is

Thinks the world of you.

Wants to spend all his free time with you, be it napping and cuddling, shopping, getting pampered, or just doing your nails.

Now that he has that real, true love he doesn’t want to be without you.

You trend on Devilgram at least once

SO MANY PICTURES

Took you shopping for perfumes and has the tester strip you used to pick your perfume taped to his vanity. Then he can smell it whenever he likes!

Gives you a small thing of his cologne for when you get lonely or want to smell like him

Boy is super, super extra. Probably has matching shirts that say he’s yours and you’re his.

The type to get couple’s pillows, cups, and pajamas. You also get couple’s massages.

If you wear lipstick, he’s definitely made you a custom one at some exclusive-invite Devilgram event. He put your initials on the base of the tube and thinks it’s the cutest damn thing. His pride and joy--it’s basically a child.

There’s no shame in the bedroom with this one. I really doubt he’d have awkward moments because he has a lot of experience and has run into a lot of things that he’s handled one way or another. It’s gentle coaching and some sweet teasing.

The most embarrassing thing he’s ever done is probably moaned/whined at the wrong time. Or said something semi-naughty at a bad time. He’s not easily shamed so that doesn’t really matter, either.

He melts at the gentlest touches and will be SO dramatic about it, like half fainted into his bed.

Is easily hypnotized by jewelry. He’ll massage your ears if you have earrings in, cooing over them and wanting to look at them. If he’s laying on you and you’re wearing a necklace, he plays with it the whole time.

Beel

Smart but distractable. Beel’s love language revolves around protection and food so pack him a lunch for practice or bring him something from a town date with one of the bros and he’s super excited

He means well but forgets his own strength so there’s a lot that can go wrong in the bedroom

Has probably broken his bed several times

Had sex on the kitchen counter and the bros only found out because one of them was setting up dinner prep and one of the legs just gave out

Big, snuggly bear. Best hugs.

Hardest to wake up because he tends to sleep well and easily. It’s a side effect of being connected to Belphie. Will hug you to him and keep snoring. You have to get someone else to wake him up because he’ll just snuggle you the more you move around and talk

I headcanon that Beel does a tongue thing like Levi, mostly because his cardinal sin is gluttony and that helps get the food in his mouth faster. It’s not as slender or serpentine as Levi’s, but it definitely moves.

Has licked you in his sleep as an affectionate thing.

Loves to snuggle into your hair when he sleeps.

Bite mark king. He’s so affectionate and earnest when he makes love that he just ends up leaving all kinds of signs on you--mostly bite marks but when he’s conscious of leaving too many, they turn into hand prints.

Makes the purr sound when he’s inside of you. Purrs very easily.

Most of his awkward moments come from being oblivious. He’s the kind of guy you have to out-and-out tell you’re flirting with him, that you like him and want to date him.

Beel’s also very shy with flirting. He thinks you’ll just understand that he’s flirting when he shares food or wants to hug, or just anything. It can be missed because he’s generally chill and friendly.

Was royally embarrassed by Asmo (on accident) when he didn’t eat as much at dinner one night and you were ‘too tired’ to come down. Beel went to carry your food up and Asmo somehow found out he’d eaten you out right before. He was filled up on the human energy and you couldn’t walk to come down.

If you ride his face, grab his horns to hold on. It does something for him and his hands go crazy and he really eats.

Scratch his back and he’ll be your forever heater.

His PDA is carrying you because why not? It’s a workout AND you’re close. It makes him give that big, nice smile.

Belphie

The biggest issue is that he falls asleep on you all the time. He doesn’t mean to but he’s TIRED, okay?

Has a name for the cow pillow. Calls it ‘my moo.’ You are one of seven people that know that. Apparently it’s been a thing since he was little.

Has accidentally called you ‘my moo’ when he’s sleep delirious. It means you’re highly thought of. Beel used to be his moo, too, and now he’s been replaced.

This sloth will smother you. He’s like a koala that demands total contact to sleep

Gives you back rubs and massages. Sometimes he stays awake through them, sometimes you get sleepy and that makes him sleepy so he ends up falling asleep on your back.

Not big on PDA, but his version of caring for you is making sure you’re not bothered by annoying people. Wants you to sit with him at lunch though, and he’ll sulk if you don’t.

His favorite kind of dates are where you stockpile food and drink in the room and just feed each other while lounging in cozy blankets

If you make him any kind of pillow or blanket for a birthday, it’s at the top of his collection. Everyone will see it when they walk into his room.

You’ll plan dates in the star room where he just holds you and points out constellations until you fall asleep. Knows a lot of the mythology/stories behind them and shares that.

No matter the size, Belphie likes to cuddle between your boobs. He says it’s for your heartbeat and that they’re comfy like pillows. His tail wags like crazy when he does this.

Also big on physical contact due to his time in the attic. You just have to be alone.

Brush and play with his hair. That’s what he likes most.

Just hold this boy, okay? He needs it.

If you guys are trying to nap and the other brothers are being noisy, he’ll do the demon scream thing to tell them to shut the hell up. He’s an absolute angel to you though. You’re tired too, he knows.

If you get a little purple streak or something in your hair, he’s smitten.

Get him a kanigiri and the boy is super stoked. He’ll wear it all around the House of Lamentation. Bonus points if it has a hoodie or something he can throw up to annoy Lucifer.

Might get you a little stuffed cow toy so you have something to hug if you have to go away or can’t be with him.

The type to be restless if he can’t sleep with you. Will come to your room in the dead of night and ask to snuggle. It’s the only time he’s nice about it (and vulnerable), so say yes.

You get to be a human body pillow. He loves it very much.

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23​ for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it. 

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues.  Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place. 

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back.   A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

                                                     ~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove​, @geeksareunique​, @cailoleaf​, @simonsbluee​ , @hereforsmutandfluff​, @starxtt​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @staygold-bebold​, @marvelschriss​, @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

[bruhlsbees]

sweet disposition: 1/? || femaleprofessor!reader x modern!alex kerner

hi bestie hehe i’d like to request a little series for you, sub! a little jealous modern alex keener (of age) x professor! f reader (late 20’s) - shes an english romantic lit professor & her “love interest” is a film professor who is one of alex’s shared teacher. alex has a little crush on her, and knows the film teacher is after her. super fluffy, smut maybe??? u decide baby, im just so excited eeeeek!!!

summary: alex kerner is a senior film student and develops a crush for his friend, denis, english professor

pairing: modern!alex kerner and professor!reader

warnings: age gap (alex is 22 and reader is 32), wet dream, sweet sweet pathetic boy, nsfw, 18+, minors dni

word count: 4,387

a/n: thank you for the request @gotmadison ily sweet gal!! this will be a short fic series i write and will post probably throughout the coming weekend! :) please enjoy and if you have any requests or asks please send them in!!!

For Alex Kerner, a senior film student, nothing bored him more than the first day of a new unit. He knew what to expect - twenty plus slides about some dead, or borderline dead, director while connecting their life to the style of films they did and how it related to whatever political controversy was going down at the time. Alex knew that there was a reason for going into so much history to better understand the meaning of the films, but jesus did it have to drag for so long?

The auditorium that Alex’s class was held in was larger, although the class was rather small. There were maybe, at most, thirty students in his class, including him, which felt empty as the auditorium they were in was meant to hold almost double that. Alex didn’t mind though, of all the rows, he was the only one in the back, taking the middle seat - of course, the best view to see a film. He recognized a lot of the faces in his class, as it was a senior level class, but he didn’t bother to converse with many.

It wasn’t that he was shy, not overly at least, he just didn’t care to make friends. It was an afternoon class, he was just getting out of work to rush to his class, and far too exhausted to try and fake being friendly…hence him sitting in the back, all alone. 

The ‘Authorship in Cinema’ course he was currently in was held twice a week - both two hours long. The first class of the week was held for lectures and the second class was held for the film screening. The university was just getting back from winter break, continuing into the last half of the semester. In Alex’s class they had finished their unit on Roman Polanski before the break and they came into the next covering Krzysztof Kieślowski. Alex was thrilled to say the least about not having to listen to his film professor rave on Polanski. Even after discussing Polanski’s case, his professor still seemed to idolize the man.

Alex was not fond of his film professor. He was a younger professor, maybe in his late thirties, early forties, and he seemed to praise the worst directors he could find. His name was Jaxon Thorne and was the staple image of a douche. He always wore faded jeans that were tight in the crotch, scuffed up sneakers that he always tried to pass as being cool, and a sweater with a scarf - even though they were inside. He truly didn’t get how girls liked the man. Alex wouldn’t lie though, some of his opinions were interesting, but the guy loved to hear himself talk, that much was obvious. 

They weren’t even at the tenth slide yet when Alex felt himself beginning to doze off. Work had been busy today, fixing satellites and dealing with prissy wives and their drunk husbands. He was almost late getting to class with all the traffic that was on the highway. The last thing he wanted to do was attend class. It took everything in him not to put his head down and go to sleep right there. He had done it before, and that was a mistake he would never make again. Waking up to everyone staring and snickering while the teacher was hovering over you meant for a lasting effect.

But Alex just couldn’t take it, he was so bored with Kieślowski’s early work. The documentaries of everyday lives for city dwellers, workers, and soldiers could not keep his attention even if he wasn’t tired. He sunk down into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, before craning his head to the side on his shoulder. His blinking became slow, desperately trying to stay awake and pay attention, but his eyes grew heavy, and before he knew it, his mouth was gaped open, drool slipping out of the corner of his lips.

He didn’t know how long he had dozed off for, but when he woke up he heard the projector screen zip up and the lights click on. Jumping slightly, Alex sat back up, feeling the stickiness of his drool on his face. With a groan, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his jean jacket before beginning to pack his things up into his bag.

“On Wednesday we will dive into his documentary, Workers, and discuss the censorship aspect of it. Come prepared to watch the screening and discuss afterwards. If anyone has any questions or comments, I’ll be staying after for a few minutes.” 

Rolling his eyes, Alex pushed himself out of his chair, swinging his bag over his shoulder before rushing out the back door at the top of the auditorium. He couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough to avoid his teacher from going off on an ‘intellectual conversation’ on their new unit. Barf.

Alex was happy though to finally be out of class and to enjoy his hour and a half break before his next class. He knew he should have been finalizing what project he wanted to submit for critique in his senior portfolio, but he needed something to wake him up. 

As he turned the hallway, going to leave the building, he stopped by the vending machine and pulled out a crinkled bill from his pocket, pushing it into the machine before pressing the buttons to get a bottle of Coke. To his luck, however, the machine stalled, the bottle retriever getting stuck in front of the row and producing an obnoxious ‘whirring’ noise. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Gripping the side of the vending machine, Alex shook the machine roughly, rocking the broken vending machine back and forth until setting it back, sending a punch to the front of it.

“Woah, woah! Jesus man what did that vending machine do to you?”

Turning his head, Alex’s glare softened at the sight of his friend, Denis, approaching him. Denis, with his books still in his hands, tucked them under his arm as he stood in front of the machine, watching as the machine stalled with Alex’s bottle of Coke.

“The stupid thing got stuck! Is it too much to ask for a bottle of co-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the machine began to work again, grabbing the bottle and dispensing it below. Staring blankly at the bottom, his lips pulled into a tight line, Alex could only feel the embarrassment settling in - and it didn’t help to hear Denis laugh at how ridiculous he reacted.

“Oh my god, dude, you seriously need to take it easy. Did work kill you that bad?” Denis asked, watching as Alex bent down to pull out the bottle, standing back up as he began unscrewing the cap, guzzling the pop down. 

Nodding his head, Alex screwed the cap back on before tucking the bottle in his bag, hiccuping at the carbonation before sighing, “Yeah, and it doesn’t help that I gotta go to Professor Dick’s class right after.” 

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Denis nodded, listening to Alex as he vented, “Yeah, Thorne’s a real piece of work. But hey! Only gotta deal with him for another semester after this. Who knows, maybe he will knock a student up and ditch down?”

The fantasy would have been nice to come true, but Alex knew that it would stay just that - a fantasy. Thorne was a questionable guy, with interesting ideas and made borderline inappropriate comments towards the female students in all his classes…but that was just it, he could charm anyone he wanted, and that’s how he stayed around.

“Yeah, maybe when dogs walk on two legs…” Alex mumbled, pressing his knuckles to his eyes and rubbing the sleep out of them, a yawn escaping his lips. 

As he dropped his hands down to his side, he felt Denis nudge him in the arm, groaning at the contact as he was too tired to have any contact, “You got class at seven right?”

Nodding, Alex blinked, a tired smile on his face as he smacked his lips, “Yeah…seven to nine, best time of day to have a senior portfolio workshop.” 

Denis laughed at the sarcastic comment, mentioning that it could’ve been worse and be at seven in the morning than at night. Alex, however, couldn’t see how anything could be worse than an evening class after a long day of work.

“Listen, I got my ‘Romanticism in Literature’ class in a few…why don’t you come with me? My teacher’s pretty cool and I’m sure she won’t mind if you sit in. I’m in the back anyways so she probably won’t even realize. She’s got pretty bad vision I’ve realized. I think she said that her glasses don’t got the right prescription or somethin. She’s always runnin late and claims she never has time to put her contacts in.” 

The detailed explanation of the professor’s vision made Alex laugh, shaking his head as Denis looked at him confused, cheeks red, “What? It’s what she’s told us! She’s always coming in late. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came in late this time around. She’s got office hours before class, so she probably gets held up with a student.”

“Sounds like you’re in love with her, is that right, Denny Boy? Someone’s gotta crush on the teacher? Ain’t that every high school kid’s fantasy? Get the hots for the teacher?” 

Scoffing, Denis rolled his eyes at Alex’s teasing and shoved him in the arm, “No man, come on now, it ain’t like that. Look if you don’t wanna come I don’t care, but I gotta go before I’m late.”

Holding his hands up in defense, Alex trailed behind Denis, going back in the direction he originally came from, “Hey, hey, I was only kidding, don’t gotta get defensive. I’ll take along, hopefully I won’t fall asleep in this class. Why you even taking this class anyways?”

Following Denis into the class, the auditorium setup similar to the one he just came out of, except smaller, Alex sat beside Denis in the back row, watching as the class filled up, only a few seats not filled. 

“I guess I gotta earn some more credits outside my degree, this was the only one that wasn’t completely filled up yet and it worked with my schedule. It ain’t too bad, she gives us a lot of free time to work.” 

Watching as Denis set his bag down beside him, opening his textbook to where they left off the other day, Alex watched Denis prep for the class, the teacher not in sight. Alex figured that the teacher must have been running late, like Denis said she always did, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long it’d be before she even showed up.

Fifteen minutes after class was supposed to begin the front door ripped open, slamming shut seconds after while heels frantically clicked towards the desk in the front of class.

“Sorry I’m late! I got caught up with another professor. I hope you all enjoyed your winter breaks and are happy to be back. I know I’m thrilled to be back!” 

The sweet voice caught Alex’s attention, his eyes pulling from his cell phone and to the front of the class where the professor had just walked in. He felt his mouth fall open slightly, catching it before Denis noticed his reaction.

He was expecting an old lady for Denis’ class, someone who was on the edge of death and smelled of cats. What he found, however, was someone the complete opposite. Younger, curvier, and the scent that filled the room when she entered was warm - like she just finished drinking a cup of coffee.

Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, bangs hanging low over her eyes, covering the tops of her crooked frames. She couldn’t have been all that older than him, maybe mid-thirties at max. He didn’t notice what she was wearing below, but the shirt she wore clung to her so well, the outline of her fuller chest displayed with her necklace dipping into her cleavage. 

‘Good God, Alex, get a hold of yourself.’

Alex watched the professor, noticing her speaking although his lusted thoughts deafened his ears. He assumed she was asking how the break went and if anyone did anything fun because a few people raised their hands, a kind smile on her face as she listened to her students.

“That’s great to hear, Polly! You’ll have to show me the photos you took sometime. I have never been to that side of the country before,” Her head shifted towards the other side of the room, looking up at the higher rows. “Did anyone else have anything to share about their break?”

Denis’ professor sat patiently and listened to everyone who wanted to share, giving everyone the opportunity to discuss their breaks before she opened up her laptop to get started with class. Alex watched as she picked up the remote and pointed it to the projector box, the screen coming down beside her with her computer screen displayed.

Her home screen featured what he assumed to be her and some friends. He recognized a few of the people in the photo as they were also professors at the university - what made Alex turn his nose, however, was right beside her - in all his douchebag glory, Jaxon Thorne. Before he could make a cohesive thought, the photo went away and a slideshow on Mary Shelley appeared…and maybe for the better.

“Okay everyone! As mentioned in the email, we are gonna be diving into Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein for this part of the semester,” She began, her warm smile still ignited, chuckling lightly as some of the students up front became uneasy in their seats, excited for the novel, “I’m glad to hear we have some fans. Now, I promised that I wouldn’t give you any reading over break, but because of that we will be reading quite a bit over the next few weeks.”

The slide shifted to the reading guide and what chapters were due when. Alex watched as some students scribbled the due dates down while others pulled out their cell phones, snapping a photo before stuffing their phones away. 

“For Wednesday I would like you all to have read the preface and letters one through four. Come prepared to discuss your analyses of the text and any questions you may have. Of course, I’ll have my office hours open tomorrow and Wednesday before class, but if there are any questions, you can send me an email and I’ll try to get back with you in a timely manner.” 

The rest of class seemed to lull by, Alex’s gaze fixed on the professor that continued to go over what the last half of the semester would look like, answering the occasional question, before finally it was time to pack up and go. Frowning, Alex shifted in his seat, looking at Denis who was packing things up in his bag. 

“It’s over?” Alex asked, eyebrows furrowed, a pathetic frown on his face.

Looking up from his bag, Denis smiled, nodding, “Yeah man, it is. Why? You fall in love with Mary Shelley?” Standing up, Denis pushed his seat under the table and shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, if it works for your schedule and you’re interested, maybe go up and ask if you can enroll. I don’t know if you’ll be able to with it being so late in the semester, but it’s worth a shot,” Glancing down at his watch, Denis sighed, “Look, I gotta run, but let me know how it goes, okay?” Patting Alex’s back, Denis rushed up the stairs and out the back door, fleeing the auditorium to get to his next class on time.

Meanwhile, Alex kept seated, watching as the professor talked with some students who approached her desk after class, laughing and admiring the editions of Frankenstein that students presented. Was this how professors could be with their students? Actually caring and involved? It seemed like Alex had poor luck with his own professors - either they were old as a bat and didn’t know how to work the computer, or they were a presumptuous dick.

When the students began to flock out, already discussing how they were looking forward to Wednesday’s class, Alex finally stood up, pulling his bag over his shoulder and making his way down the auditorium steps. She hadn’t noticed him as he walked, writing something down in her planner. As he stood now in front of her, he cleared his throat awkwardly, gaining her attention as she looked up, squinting before taking her glasses off.

“Hello,” he began shyly, adjusting the strap of his bag, “I’m Alex. My friend, Denis, he’s in your class.” 

At the mention of Denis, she smiled and nodded, “Yes! Denis, nice boy he is,” She adjusted her position in her seat, leaning back slightly, “I-I’m sorry, are you in my class? I don’t believe I’ve ever see-”

“No! I mean, no, no I’m not in your class. I have a free hour before my next class and Denis invited me to sit in for this one,” He rushed, cheeks red as he realized how abruptly he had interrupted her, “I’m sorry, um, yeah I just came down because I really enjoyed your lecture today. I was curious if there was any way I could maybe enroll? I know it’s late in the semester, but I did enjoy today.” 

The cheeky smile faded into a sadder, smaller smile. She chewed on her bottom lip before leaning forward again, crossing her arms over chest, accentuating her cleavage that Alex desperately tried not to stare at.

“Oh, I’m sorry Alex, but I don’t think I can convince the department to let you in this late in the semester. I love your enthusiasm with the course and would love to have you in my class, but I don’t think I can make that happen.” Her smile dropped to a frown when she saw the visible disappointment in Alex’s face before bending over to open her bag, pulling out a copy of Frankenstein, handing it to Alex.

Looking down at the copy, Alex opened the cover, reading what he assumed to be her name in the cover, before flipping through the pages, a weak smile on his face, trying his best to not look so pathetic in front of her.

“How about this? I probably shouldn’t, but if you want to sit in on the days you’re free, you’re more than welcome to. I’ll forward you the reading guide so you can keep up with us, but you won’t earn any credit in this class. Is that okay?” 

His frown turned into a grin, looking up from the book, Alex nodded, his cheeks pink as his toothy crooked grin spread across his face, “Yeah, yes. Thank you,” Tugging down the front of his striped blue shirt, he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at the book before back up at her, “Um, so when are your office hours? Just in case I have any questions?”

Letting out a faint ‘ah’, she opened her notebook and scribbled some notes down, tearing off the paper and handing it to Alex, “You’re more than welcome to shoot me an email though if you need help outside of my office hours. Or you can call my office number, sometimes I answer it.” She admitted, her own cheeks going pink at the confession.

Smiling, Alex looked down at the paper and made a mental note to remember all that she had given him.

My email,

My office number,

Office hours are M&W: 3-5:15 and T&R: 1-2

Class takes place on M&W from 5:30-6:30

:)

The smile she left on the page made Alex’s stomach flutter. His thumb ran along the smiley face before he looked up, thanking her quietly for the note. She was sweet, almost too sweet for Alex to absorb, like he was in a sugar coma and begging for more. 

“Of course, it was nice to meet you Alex. I’m looking forward to seeing you in class. I don’t mean to run off, but I’m to meet another professor here in a couple minutes and don’t need to be lectured on being late.”

When she stood up, Alex’s face went hot. The flowy flower blouse that showed more cleavage than he had seen on a professor before was tucked into a tight jean skirt, clinging to her hips in all the right places, a thick black belt holding it all together. If it weren’t for the fact that he was right in front of her, he probably would have started drooling. 

Packing up her desk, she stuffed her things in her bag, throwing her sweater over her shoulder before throwing her bag around her, moving around the desk to stand beside it now, looking up at Alex. He noted how she was shorter, the heels helping her with height, and how good her legs looked in them. Clearing his throat, he shifted his bag around him to sit in front of his pants, attempting to hide any possible pop-up in his jeans.

“If you’re free tomorrow, stop by my office hours. I’ll even buy you a coffee if it’s too early for you. I know you college boys stay up far too late. I can only imagine what your mothers think.” She teased, shaking her head and she turned and began to head out of the room, hearing Alex keep tight on her trail. 

Turning off the lights and letting him leave first, she shut the door behind her and stood beside Alex, motioning towards the English department office, “I’ll see you tomorrow, or Wednesday, my office is the last one on the right. I’ll be sure to leave my door open!” 

Nodding, Alex smiled and waved goodbye as she waved back, rushing down the hall and weaving through the students to get into the office. Letting out a sigh, Alex leaned against the doorway, processing his first encounter with the professor, the boyish lust grin stuck on his face.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Panting hard, Alex gripped her hips tight, his fingers digging into her plush figure, grunting as he snapped his hips into her from behind, her pillowed ass meeting him with each thrust. The sweat that built up on him was beginning to fall down face, trailing down his neck and chest. 

Tangling his right hand into her hair, his left still placed on her hips, Alex pulled her locks gently, smiling at the sound of her wanton moan, her eyes rolling back into her head. 

“A-Alex! Oh god, Alex, I don’t think I’m going to last. F-Fuck!” 

Feeling his own climax build, Alex let out a shaky breath as he bent down craning his neck to kiss her lips as he continued to rut inside of her, his thrusts becoming sloppy and quicker.

The sensation became too much too quickly, his legs shaking as he kneeled behind her befo-

Jolting awake, the obnoxious phone alarm woke Alex from his dream, resulting in a now completely frustrated mood. While still on his back, Alex reached behind him on the shelf that rested behind his bed frame, pulling his phone up and looking at the screen, squinting to gain his vision from waking up, the bright screen burning his eyes.

When he unlocked his phone and opened it, prompting him to his email, his frown lit up and turned into a smile, seeing her name in his inbox.

Good evening, Alex!

I’m sorry this is so late, I’m finally getting back to my apartment and wanted to send this your way before I forgot. Here is the reading guide for the rest of the semester and that information I shared with you earlier in case you lost it.

I look forward to seeing you in my office tomorrow or Wednesday. I hope you have a good night! :)

Best!

Alex’s mood quickly shifted after reading the email. While he was disappointed that the wet dream he was having with her ended so soon, he was more than pleased to see that he had an email from her. Clicking his phone off, Alex tossed his phone onto his bed, sitting up with his hand behind him to keep him up.

His room illuminated a red/orange hue from the lava lamp that sat on his dresser in the corner of his room. Turning his attention towards the window, he looked behind the blinds to see the city life outside his apartment lit up, the sound of music coming from the club down the road and laughs from those partying. 

Letting out a yawn, Alex shook his head and rubbed his face, shifting his legs before stopping quickly, feeling the mess in his boxers. Looking down, Alex groaned seeing the stain in his boxers, pressing his hand to feel the wet spot before sighing, standing up. He pulled his boxers carefully off, tossing them into his laundry basket before making his way into the bathroom to clean up. 

When he entered the small bathroom that was connected to his room, he hissed at the bright light as it came on, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair was tangled up, sticking out on the sides and his eyes were squinted, too tired to open them fully. Shaking his head, Alex climbed into the shower and started the water, the cold water hitting him both waking him up and cooling himself down.

He was absolutely and pathetically smitten over her. There was no doubt about it. Since leaving her class, the only thoughts that occupied his mind were of her. He had already planned out what he would wear tomorrow when he went to her office hours. It was pathetic, truly, with how quickly he was letting the woman ruin him. It was ridiculous to say, no doubt, because what would happen between them? Nothing. Not a single thing would come between the two other than a conversation about Frankenstein, maybe a personal question here and there.

Or so he thought.

[catgrump]

“I’m okay now” with saimomoharu? this ship is on my head like, alot these days and i just want to see more fanfics about them

My dumbass had to Google it to double check who it is and boy howdy was I relieved to see it’s Training Trio! My absolute favorite! /gen 😌

Non-Despair AU where they’re all young adults settling into careers! I’ve had a HC for a while where Shuichi & Maki would be Private Investigators together while Kaito is some sort of aerospace engineer.

🌻🌻🌻

Maki and Shuichi were leaning over a table in their office, sorting through photos and files.

Since they’ve opened their own Private Investigators Service together, they’ve been able to keep themselves occupied with work.

Maki picked up a file from the table and asked “Shuichi, did you get the autopsy report?”

“The medical examiner hasn’t finished yet; why?”

“It looks like the stab wound isn’t that deep,” Maki squinted, bringing the photo closer to her face, “I don’t think that’s what killed him. At this angle, you’d need to really dig in to kill someone. There aren’t any vital organs around this area of the body, and it seems unlikely he died from blood loss. I think something else killed him that we can’t see.”

Shuichi looked up and smiled at her. “What would I do without you, Maki?”

“You wouldn’t be nearly as competent as you appear to be,” Maki’s facial expressions barely change, but Shuichi can detect the slightest movements from her and knows when she’s teasing.

He crossed over and wrapped his arms around her waist, “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner—“

They stopped what they were doing when they heard the humming of their garage door opening. “Speaking of partners,” Shuichi said, quickly kissing Maki’s cheek before heading back to where he was working

“Did he text you? I didn’t know he was coming home late,” Maki said

Shuichi took his phone out of his pocket, “Uh, no, I haven’t heard from Kaito since he left for work this morning.”

They got quiet and listened to the house. Their tumbler opened— the door was unlocked— and some plastic bags rustled as they hit the floor. There was an alarming THUD followed by a grunt, and Shuichi and Maki looked at each other in concern and horror.

They briskly left their office and headed downstairs together, afraid of what they might see.

“Kaito?” Maki called out

He swore under his breath, unaware his partners definitely heard him, and replied back, “I just lost my footing coming in; I’m alright!”

Once Shuichi and Maki reached the first floor, they turned the corner and saw Kaito on his hands and knees, grocery bags strewn about, struggling to pick himself back up. “Kaito, are you okay?” Shuichi got down on the floor to his level, trying to steady him

“Tell us what happened. Now.” Maki demanded, taking a hold under one of his arms

“I swear, I’m okay now; let me just get up— fuck—“ as Kaito quickly lifted his head with his eyes shut tight, he practically collapsed further onto the floor.

Shuichi and Maki shared another look. “Stay with him,” Shuichi took charge, “I’m going to get some water and something for him to eat.”

“Shuichi, please, I’m alright—“ Shuichi clearly wasn’t listening; he was already heading toward the kitchen

“No, you’re not. Stop lying to us,” Maki insisted, “You need to tell us how you got here.”

Kaito sighed before giving in and speaking up, “I was fine at work, so I went to run errands afterward, and I guess I started feeling shaky in the checkout line and on the drive home my breathing was shallow—“

“Did you take your meds today?” Maki asked

“I’m back,” Shuichi’s voice rang out from around the hall as he quickly approached with a glass of water and a bowl of dry cereal

Shuichi knelt down to Kaito to hand him the rations. “Thanks, baby,” Kaito muttered before taking a drink

“You didn’t answer me,” Maki said

“Hm?” Shuichi piped in, having missed the question

“I think he hasn’t taken his meds today.”

“Kaito?” Shuichi gently asked, making Kaito’s already frail body twinge with guilt, “Is that true?”

He sighed again, feeling shameful, “It’s uh... half the truth.”

“What does that mean?” Maki was not tolerating this.

“You’re going to be angry—“

“I’m already kind of angry, to be honest,” Maki’s face changed ever-so-slightly once again. She’s trying to keep things a bit more lighthearted, just so a screaming match doesn’t break out. They’ve never truly screamed at each other before, but Maki has had to learn to control her temper a bit.

“I haven’t been taking them for about a week now—“

“WHAT?!” Shuichi and Maki cried in unison

“I just felt like I haven’t needed them? I’ve been feeling stronger and I had to see if I could live without them—“

“You’ve been feeling stronger BECAUSE of the meds, Kaito!” Maki and Kaito were both shocked with Shuichi’s sudden outburst, “You know what happens when I don’t take my anti-depressants because I feel like I’m fine? I get depressed again! That’s how medication fucking works!”

“Shuichi, I—“ Kaito began, but Shuichi was up on his feet again, storming back to the kitchen, “Dammit.”

“He’s right, Kaito,” Maki said, rubbing a hand on his back, “He’s only angry because he cares. We both do. You need those prescriptions to function.”

“I know. It was stupid of me; I just... I hate that I’m like... broken. Like I need to ingest something in order to live and it’s held me back from my dreams and—“

Shuichi was back, holding three bottles of pills. “Hon, medication doesn’t make you any less of a person,” he sighed, sitting down on the floor in front of Kaito and opening the bottles, “Practically everyone takes something every day. I bet you could ask your coworkers and everyone would at least say they take a vitamin supplement or something.”

“You think I take birth control just because?” Maki chimed in, “No, it’s so I don’t miss out on work and life for three days every month because I’m in unbearable pain.”

Kaito slowly picked his head up, feeling less heavy after drinking some water, but still not doing amazing. “I get it,” he said with watery eyes

Shuichi scooted over and wrapped his arms around him, leaning his head into Kaito’s shoulder. “We love you, okay?”

“Yeah. I love you both, too.”

Maki held on to Kaito’s arm again and quickly kissed his shoulder, “We don’t want you dying on us just yet, got it?”

Kaito chuckled, “Ten four; got it.”

“Rest tonight, please?” Shuichi said, “And I think you should stay home tomorrow so your body can recover.”

“I have the day off anyway—“

“Perfect. We’ll take the day off, too,” Maki added

Shuichi reached for the pill bottles and took out the appropriate doses from each container, and offered the tablets to Kaito.

He shut his eyes and smiled, taking the medication from Shuichi’s hand.

Prompt from This List

If you enjoy my work, you can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi if you’re able! 💛 Fics will always be free; this is just an additional way to support me

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Kirishima Eijiro x (O) Reader Pharmacy Run (Zombie AU)

Word count: 1781

Warnings: Gore. Mentions blood. 

Title: ABO (A) Kirishima Eijiro x (O) Reader Pharmacy Run (Zombie AU)

Summary: You got on a pharmacy run and things turn south. 

(Gif not mine credit to owner) 

🦈-It had been three months since things went to hell.

🦈-You had been one of the lucky Omegas that took suppressants to block their heats and scent. You had just filled your prescription that week so you had a whole three months covered.

🦈-You had hidden in an abandoned gas station. It was one meant for truckers so you had access to running showers which you were reluctant to enjoy because the water pounded heavily against the tiles.

🦈-You only settled there because they had metal shutters that would come down. It was secure and you felt safe there. As safe as one could get in a zombie apocalypse.

🦈-You stayed low and didn’t draw any attention to yourself. The gas station was located on a high way leading out of the city so you didn’t hear many survivors passing through.

🦈-The yells and screams you did hear kept you awake at night. You knew being an Omega was dangerous in regular society but now that Omegas were few and far between Alphas had lost any sense of control.

🦈-You would rather die being torn apart by zombies than have a feral Alpha catch you.

🦈-You only had one week of suppressants left before you ran out. You knew both the dead and alive would come for you if you didn’t find more soon. That was why you were on the roof of an old supermarket.

🦈-You wanted to scope out the place before you went in.

🦈-You stayed up there for a while and didn’t hear the telltale signs of the dead occupying it. You didn’t hear the knocking over of cans or the crunch of glass they unsteadily walked on.

🦈-The sun was still up high so you thought it was time to finally enter the decrepit supermarket. You would like to get back to your home before the sun started dipping. You would have liked to go through the back since pharmacies were always located in the back but the door was chained up.

🦈-So you looked down the empty street for both the dead and living before sneaking in the entrance. You noticed the shelves were almost bare. A few cans of still lingered but you didn’t dwell on them.

🦈-You were here for the only thing you really needed to survive. A full belly was nice but you would rather have you scent masked then snag a few cans. You walked through the aisles jumping at every creak of the building.

🦈-You arrived at the pharmacy, it was just as trashed as the rest of the building. Paper bags that were once white now soiled in dirt and blood scattered the floor. You were careful to avoid them, not wanting to make any unnecessary sounds.

🦈-The drawers had straightforward labels. Antibiotics, allergy medicine, fever medication, and so on. You paused when you came across suppressants. You shakily opened it, hoping with all your heart that it wasn’t empty.

🦈-Your eyes sparkled when your eyes gazed at a decent pile of monthly packs. At least a year worth. Your Omega jumped in joy. Although she was upset that pups weren’t on the list anytime soon she enjoyed living just as much.

🦈-You stuffed all of the suppressants in your backpack before throwing in anything else you thought might have been useful.

🦈-You were too focused on the abundance of medicine that you didn’t notice unsteady footsteps creeping your way. It was only when you heard a moan so close nearby did you look up, to zombies had followed you to the back.

🦈-You were quick to hide behind the shelves, they were sniffing the air. You might not have been out much but you noticed a pattern. If you were more than a fifteen feet in away from them they would pick up your Omega scent even with the suppressants.

🦈-Farther away they still showed interest but didn’t pursue you as hard.

🦈-These ones must have been walking by and smelled you straight away. You were glad it was only two of them and not a whole hoard. The cities were known for their big crowds.

🦈-You grabbed an empty medkit and threw it on the other side of the room. They were quick to snap their head in that direction and pursue the noise. You slowly maneuvered around the paper bags again before silently dashing away.

🦈-They much have just came from a fresh kill. The floors were slick with blood from their footsteps. You didn’t notice until your slipped and hit your head on one of the shelves, cans crashed all around you.

🦈-You were a little disoriented, ringing in your ears made you unsteady and the pain in your head made you dizzy. Without your permission, your Omega sent out a chirp.

🦈-Any Alpha within a mile would have heard. You didn’t know if the zombies were sensitive to them too. They certainly were obsessive over your smell. You tried to get back up to run out but you crumpled over right away.

🦈-It was pointless to hold in your whimpers at that point. You got your suppressants but they cost your life. You pictured yourself bleeding out on the dirty floor as you felt the dead pair steadily walking your way for their next meal.

🦈-You felt another presence from the opposite side of the aisle. You thought it was just another zombie ready to sink their teeth into you but a loud growl rumbled through them.

🦈-It wasn’t like the growls you heard from the dead on a regular basis. No, it was a familiar one from the old world. One that said to back off from someone’s mate. You lifted your eyes and caught a blurry red-haired figure.

🦈-He carried a bat with him and hung it over his bulky shoulder. You could make out the faint outlines of nails pounded into it. You didn’t doubt that it was deadly in this strong Alphas hands.

🦈-He ran down the aisle and jumped over your slumped figure. His bat came down on the nearest zombie head. He was quick to bring his bat down on the other, with a heaving chest and blood dripping down his bat he turned your way.

🦈-Your vision had cleared up a bit the feral scowl on his face made you whimper. He was one of them, an Alpha with only one thing on his mind.  In an instant, his face softened and he took a step back. He didn’t drop the bat but he lifted his hands up to show he wasn’t to be feared.

🦈-“Are you okay? Did I get here in time, Omega?” His eyes scanned your body, besides the trickle of blood on your head you seemed fine.

🦈-His Alpha calmed at the thought. He was just going on a food run when he heard a chirp. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him but the hairs on his neck were evidence enough.

🦈-“I’m fine. They didn’t get to me.” You mumbled, holding your backpack strap tighter.  

🦈-“I’m glad.” He breathed, he didn’t let his guard down yet. His hero trained ears picked up on heavy footsteps coming from the entrance no doubt a big group was making their way over.

🦈-“We have to go.” He urged, eyes trying to look over the shelves to see how many to expect. He didn’t like what he was seeing.

🦈-You nodded and tried to stand up, your legs weren't cooperating, you wobbled as you stood. Kirishima didn’t think anything of it as he leaned down and tossed you over his wide shoulder.

🦈-You wanted to protest but knew this wasn’t the right time. You lifted your head to cover your backs. The dead were just entering the aisle. Kirishima wasted no time dashing into the back where you came from.

🦈-He was heading towards the back door.

🦈-“The door is chained shut. There is no way we are getting out that way.” You rushed, looking over at the metal door.

🦈-“Watch me.” He growled, running towards the door at neck-breaking speed.  

🦈-A cry got stuck in your throat, this was gonna hurt.

🦈-Only it didn’t, the Alpha hardened his fist and punched the door straight off, chains went crashing to the ground in a loud clang. Your Omega took this time to purr at the strong Alpha.

🦈-Not the time Omega.

🦈-Kirishima warmed at the sound but he pushed forward. He needed to get you to safety. He spotted a metal fire escape and took the chance. He used his leg power to launch himself up and grab at one of the bars.

🦈-You had already taken to hugging him like a koala and wrapped your legs around his thick waist. Your arms looped around his neck. He climbed up the ladder no problem and got you to the roof safely.

🦈-The building seemed to be an apartment complex so he didn’t want to crawl through the windows and meeting the old tenants. He stood on the roof and waited for you to detach yourself from him.

🦈-You were reluctant to leave his safe embrace but you slowly climbed down from him.

🦈-“Thank you, Alpha.” You sent him a small smile, noticing the way he stood up straighter when you called his title.

🦈-“It’s no problem. I am glad you are safe. I’m Kirishima.” He smiled, showcasing his sharp teeth before offering a rough hand for you to shake.

🦈-Your small one felt even smaller in his huge hand.

🦈-“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Kirishima.” You replied, shuffling on your feet. You didn’t know what to do now. It seems you would be stuck on the roof for a while if the groans below had anything to say about it.

🦈-“Do you like canned chili? I just picked up a load of them.” He tore off his backpack and unzipped it. His Alpha was all too eager to provide for the Omega. He hadn’t seen one in so long and this one was so beautiful and smelled like a summer day by the ocean.

🦈-“I could eat, a near death experience really eats away the calories.” You joked, taking the offered can.

🦈-“I am feeling pretty hungry myself.” He grinned, cracking open his own can before pulling out two plastic spoons.

🦈-So you sat on the roof of an abandoned apartment complex eating spoonfuls of cold chili. The food might have been cold but the atmosphere was warm and comforting. 

🦈-You felt safe with this Alpha and you didn’t think you would be leaving his side anytime soon.

Again with the zombie AU. I hope you liked it. I love this shark boy.❤️🦈

Please reblog my work it really motivates me to write more. Leave a note as well if you want to see more from me.

[chilling-seavey]

i know i sent this to your side blog but i feel like a soft fluffy concept of dani and lori with hopelessly devoted to you from grease would be *chef’s kiss*

Honestly, I always saw this song as a heartbreak song rather than a ‘soft fluffy song’ so I hope you don’t mind I changed that aspect of it! This is also my first ‘lyric blurb’ where you incorporate lyrics right into the writing (like @randomlimelightxxx has done in some of her works!) so I hope I did it alright hehe 💟 Oh - and this also takes places during the fic timeline x

Guess mine is not the first heart broken

My eyes are not the first to cry

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you

It didn’t rain often in Los Angeles. In fact, it was quite rare. Yet, Daniel sat in his bedroom, guitar in hand, and gaze out the window at the downpour that was smudging water across the glass. It came down hard on the roof and the drowned out the noise of the city with rain until it was nearly flooding the streets, the sky locked in with dark grey clouds to leave the world in near darkness. Daniel didn’t turn on a light.

He plucked the strings of his guitar haphazardly, not even playing any specific song as he fell into a tired trance at the rain that trickled down his window. He didn’t even notice that he was crying until he tasted the saltwater trickling over his lips and he licked them gently, wondering if Loretta could taste his tears just like he could.

There was a knock at his door and Daniel turned his head slightly to see Christian letting himself in and he leaned against the doorframe. The brothers stared at each other a moment and Christian sighed at the pathetic state of his younger brother; his little pout and tear streaked cheeks and untamed brown hair that was almost falling over his eyes with lack of product in it.

“What?” Daniel croaked out, turning back to the sigh of the rain drenched window, his fingers still plucking at the strings of his guitar that was sat on his lap.

“Mum made lunch. Sent me to come get you.” Christian said.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You didn’t eat at all yesterday…you need to eat something today.”

“My heart hurts too much to eat. I might be sick.” Daniel breathed.

Christian sighed and closed the door behind him as he headed over to the bedside. He grabbed the guitar by the neck and pulled it off Daniel lap, the young brother holding onto it tighter until his fingers shrieked over the strings as it was finally pulled from his grasp.

“You’re getting up.” Christian ordered.

“No.”

“Yep.” Christian grabbed him by the wrists and yanked him up to sit up on the side of the bed. “Stop acting like a poor pathetic boy.”

“My heart hurts, Christian.” Daniel protested.

“You’re not the first one.” Christian retorted. “I had to break up with my girl too. Doesn’t do good for anyone if you sit here and mope about.”

“I’m never going to be okay without her. I’m never going to be okay.”

“Yes, you will. Come on.” Christian pulled him to his feet. “We’ll get you some pain killers for that black eye of yours and eat some lunch.”

“Does it get better?” Daniel asked softly, holding out his hand so Christian could dump two pills from the prescription bottle into his open palm.

His older brother only handed him the glass of water from the nightstand, “Drink.”

I know I'm just a fool who's willing

To sit around and wait for you

But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you

After lunch, Daniel was back in his room and he sat himself down on the side of his bed with a tired sigh. His eyes lingered on his car keys on his dresser and after a bit of self-debate, he got up, grabbed them, and headed back downstairs.

“I’m going to Sherry’s.” Daniel called.

“You can’t drive right now, love.” his mother appeared at the end of the hallway as he pulled on his shoes. “You might have a concussion.”

“I’m fine, Mum.” Daniel said as he opened the door.

“Daniel, it’s pouring.” she hurried after him.

“I’ll be back before dinner.” Daniel called over his shoulder through the rain as he stepped off the front porch. The heavy downpour instantly flattened his hair down across his forehead and he bowed his head to make it through the rain to his red car. He unlocked it and climbed in the driver’s seat, not even giving his mother a second look before he was turning the ignition and backing out of the driveway.

Zach was behind the counter when Daniel walked into Sherry’s. His eyes went wide at the sight of his drenched and beaten best friend and offered him one of the clean dish towels from the kitchen to dry off a little. Daniel thanked him flatly and sat down at one of the stools at the front counter of the diner.

“I thought you were told to rest.” Zach said.

Daniel ruffled the towel through his hair and then dropped it on the counter with a sigh, tapping his fingers against the pink laminate top, “I can’t.”

“Are you feeling alright? You took quite a punch. Or ten.” Zach grabbed another empty glass to polish as they spoke.

“I just…I need to see her.” Daniel glanced to the clock on the wall. 2:38.

“She hasn’t come in here in a few days.” Zach answered quietly.

“I don’t care. I’ll wait.” Daniel mumbled, picking at the speckled pattern in the countertop with his fingernail.

Zach only nodded and moved on to put the clean glasses away.

But now there's nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm out of my head

Hopelessly devoted to you

Thunder rumbled outside as the rain came down harder against the windows of the diner. It was almost empty due to the weather but a few couples dotted around the restaurant, filling a few booths and talking quietly behind the rain that pounded against the front windows. Daniel eyed them almost enviously, wishing more than ever to share fries and a strawberry shake with Loretta at that moment.

He looked up at the clock. 2:58.

Zach served the few patrons, bringing over food and returning empty plates to the kitchen, keeping an eye on his best friend sat waiting at the front counter and soaked to his skin in icy summer rain. The rain didn’t seem to bother the couples that took up the restaurant and they ate and held hands and giggled across the tables until Daniel was glancing over his shoulder to the front door.

Through the dark rain he could almost see the flash of Loretta’s favourite red dress and he watched as she and Corbyn hurried past the front windows to his car. She was holding her purse above her head to try and stay out of the rain and Corbyn had more protection from his own leather jacket. He managed to open the car door for her but left her to get in by herself as he hurried around the other side and climbed in.

Loretta’s eyes locked on Daniel’s through the front windows of Sherry’s as the clock hit 3:00.

His breath stopped in his throat and he felt that familiar pull of his limbs as the universe tried to lead him off the stool and into her arms. She seemed to feel it to…but maybe her half step away from Corbyn’s car was just a figment of his deepest hopes. The rain flattened her brown curls around her face and raindrops fell down her cheeks like tears and Daniel wanted to reach for her.

The car horn honked, startling Loretta out of her trance and she climbed into her boyfriend’s car without a second look through the diner windows.

Daniel watched the car drive off through the blistering rain.

My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him"

My heart is sayin', "Don't let go

Hold on to the end", that's what I intend to do

I'm hopelessly devoted to you

Daniel’s heart ached in his chest and his eyes blurred with tears until his vision resembled that of the rainy windows of the diner. He smothered a whimper behind his bitten lip and turned back to the counter, hugging his arms over his head sorrowfully. He slumped onto the laminate and Zach’s hand was on his shoulder,

“Daniel? Are you okay?”

“I want her.” Daniel sobbed. “I can’t live life like this.”

“It’s only been two days.” Zach chuckled pitifully.

Daniel raised his head from the counter and Zach squeezed his shoulder at the sight of his best friend’s eyes dripping tears down pink cheeks and his bruised skin.

“I need to call her. I can’t let her go.” Daniel whispered as if this was a perfect realization. He glanced towards the payphones and recited her phone number aloud without second thought, “L26-9976.”

“No, no, no.” Zach hurried around the counter and pushed Daniel back onto the stool. “Buddy, that’s not a good idea.”

“She’s mine.” Daniel protested wetly.

Zach groaned under his breath, muttering, “Of course the one day Jack isn’t working.”

“Just one call.” Daniel tried to stand up again but he swayed and clutched onto the counter.

“Okay, I’m calling your mum. Sit.” Zach pushed him back onto the stool and Daniel head his head in his hands as the world spun around him.

The world had been spinning around him since the very first day he rested his eyes on Loretta Jean Howard across the diner. This was just the cruel twist of reality that seemed to make everything much more difficult. Her boyfriend’s possessive fist was making everything much more difficult. Daniel’s tears only made his head throb and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes as Zach dialled the phone behind the counter.

“Hi, Mrs. Seavey. Yeah, it’s Zach. I think you should come pick him up…he’s not doing too swell.”

[itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto]

Cause baby you’re a firework.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is a bit of an angst heavy fic. Reader gets hurt on a case, and Spencer, her best friend worries he didn’t get the chance to admit his feelings. It has a fluffy ending!

Trigger warnings:  Explosions, bombs, swearing, mentions of violence, blood, surgery details.

“So, my loves, bit of a heavy one for a Monday morning but there have been a series of explosions in Dallas, all big companies, 50 dead and counting.” Garcia said.

“That’s not as high as I thought it would be.” Emily says.

“Some have life threatening injuries.” J.J said as Garcia quickly went through the photos trying not to look at the horror of the blast and the injured victims.

“Why have we been called in baby girl?” Morgan asks

“The un-subs have been in disguise, a different one each time and seem to pose very professional so security doesn’t question them.” Garcia said, “We need to find them fast.”

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said closing his case file.

Everyone nods and grabs their go bags. “You okay Spence?” You ask your best friend

“Yeah, just these victims didn’t deserve this. No one deserves this.” Spencer says

“We know kid.” Rossi says to the 30 year old, “Let’s roll.”

On the plane

“Y/N, you used to be a bomb diffuser, didn’t you?” Hotch asked

“I did. Why?” You ask. Before the FBI you used to work dealing with this stuff every-day and have saved thousands of lives.

“Do you know what bomb this is?” Hotch asked showing you a photo of the last bomb used.

You look for your glasses before Spencer lends you his, as you have the same prescription, “Yeah, it’s a T148. It’s used mainly in Afghanistan and 3rd world countries where there are wars still going on. Small put powerful. Could kill anyone within a 10-mile radius.” You say handing Spencer his glasses back. “I’ve diffused a couple.”

“Y/N, how old are you?” Rossi asks, “I don’t like to ask women their ages, but you are very young.”

“I’m 24. I diffused one exactly like this when I worked for the MI5 in London. This bomb is poorly constructed though. The wiring is badly put together, probably explains Emily’s theory on why not as many people died in the buildings, only those about 2-3m from the bomb would have died and everyone else life-threatening injuries as J.J said earlier.” You say. “I’d say our un-subs are young, similar aged to me and doing this because they are being forced to for some reason such as their families being threatened.”

“How awful.” J.J says

“I’ve seen it before, it isn’t pleasant.” You say, not really keen on talking about your past but know the team wouldn’t ever judge you, or force you into saying something that made you uncomfortable but their facial expressions tell you they want to know what happened. “Last case I did in London, before transferring here, a family were held hostage in their own home and the un-sub wouldn’t let them go unless their son blew up their family home with them all inside. It was horrible.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked

“I ran into the house, and diffused the bomb, but the unsub found me stabbed me in my stomach and back multiple times just as I diffused it. He got shot dead outside, the next thing I remember is the family thanking me for saving them and the doctor saying I was in a coma for 7 days as I lost that much blood. One of the family members had the same blood type as me and donated the blood I needed as a way of thanking me for saving them or I would have died in surgery.” You say getting out of your chair, showing your scars on your stomach and back from where you got stabbed and had surgery.

“Shit.” Emily said.

“Did your family come to see you?” JJ asked

“I don’t have a family. I’m adopted and I don’t get on with my real family, or my adopted ones. I moved out when I was 18.” You shrug, not really bothered by it. “And before you all give me your condolences, I don’t need them. You are all my family now.” You smile as some turbulence occurs.

“Y/N are you okay to look at the diffused bombs when we arrive into Dallas?” Rossi asks you softly

“Yes, of course.” You say and get some sleep, but still dream about that day once a week and it keeps you up at night.

“How old was she when that happened?” Spencer asked, referring to the house bomb you just referred to.

“18.” Hotch said, “It’s in her file. She saved not just the family but the whole street as it was late at night.”

“Poor kid.” Rossi said as some turbulence hit the plane. “I didn’t realize she’d joined us when she was 18.”

“She really doesn’t act her age.” Morgan said, “When I was 24 I was doing stupid shit like getting drunk with my buddies and playing socker.”

“I didn’t know you were a bad flyer.” Spencer said noticing Rossi looking uncomfortable

“I’m not, I just hate turbulence.” Rossi said, holding onto his seat.

“You know turbulence very rarely causes planes to crash.” Spencer said looking up from his file.

“That does me absolutely no good at the moment. Thank you.” Rossi said through gritted teeth

“What we really need to worry about are microbursts - a sudden downburst of air associated with thunderstorms - but small craft like this one, if we hit one of those at the wrong altitude... Get pulverized.” Spencer said as he sipped his coffee.

“I beg of you to make him stop.” Rossi said to the rest of the team

“You can’t silence genius.” J.J chuckled

The team arrives into Dallas

“Wake up sleepy head.” Spencer smiled, gently waking you unaware you had the horrible dream again.

“Yeah.. Coming.” You say rubbing your eyes looking for your go bag.

“I got it.” Spencer said

“Thanks, and for lending me your glasses earlier.” You yawn.

“No problem.” Spencer smiled at his best friend.

You smile back as you get into the car and drive to the police station.

“Hi I’m J.J, these are my colleagues, Rossi, Hotch, Morgan, Y/S/N and Dr Reid.” J.J said shaking his hand, “You must be detective Smith.”

Smith nods, “Sure am. Set y’all up a conference room with donuts and coffee.” He says in a British accent.

“Donuts and coffee? To what to we owe the pleasure of food?” Morgan said as Smith shrugged winking at you.

“You know him kiddo?” Rossi asked

“He was in the same foster home as me.” You sigh, he beat you up a few times and eventually you learnt to fight back telling Rossi what he did to you.

“Just remember you are so much better than him Y/N, you’re in the fucking FBI and he’s a lame detective.” Spencer said, “And you have a donut.” He smiled shoving it in your face which made you laugh.

“And I have a family, and a dork of a best friend.” You smile, trying to hide your crush on Spencer, unaware he feels the same and start to eat the donut.

The team deliver a profile

“Hotch, can I go to forensics and check out the old bombs?” You ask

“Yes, of course Y/N. Spencer, Morgan, go with Y/N.” Hotch said

“Road trip with two nerds, come on Hotch.” Morgan rolled his eyes

“Hey!” You and Spencer both say

“We’re not nerds, we’re limited edition weirdos.” You smile

At forensics, you are chatting to the lab assistant, making chat about things, unaware Spencer is getting jealous.

“Just ask her out pretty boy.” Morgan said sipping his coffee.

“No! I can’t… She’s too perfect. I bet she has a boyfriend.” Spencer said

“Hey love birds, so this bomb is the same as the others, the first was done perfectly, but the last one, less so. So, I’m thinking something happened to him or her, and the other two are now working alone.” You say to Morgan and Spencer

Spencer’s cheeks flush at the mentioning of the words ‘love birds’ and phones Hotch with your findings as Morgan phones Garcia.

“Has he asked her yet chocolate thunder?” Garcia asked

“Not yet Mama, soon hopefully.” Morgan chuckled

“Keep me posted my love.” Garcia giggled

“Will do baby girl. Bye.” Morgan laughed and hung up, as Spencer’s cheeks got redder.

A few days have passed, and the case isn’t going anywhere, there is little information and all DNA left at the scene has been too small to get a sample.

“Guys… I think I got something.” You say looking up from the computer you were reading from.

“What is it Y/N?” Hotch asked

“Big new building having a grand opening today, over 1000 people attending. This could be the next one.” You say.

“Let’s go.” Hotch told the team

In the car

“Hotch, if it comes to it, you realise I will want to find the bomb and diffuse it.” You say, feeling the tension in the car.

“Y/N, you can’t risk you own life again.” Morgan said

“1 for over 1000, I’d rather that than my family and all those people die.” You say bluntly.

“You can’t.” Emily says as Spencer nods agreeing with her.

“I will.” You say through gritted teeth.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” Hotch said as you arrive into the building.

Outside the building

“Prentiss, J.J, Morgan, you take the left side. Rossi, Reid, Y/S/N and I will take the left. Meet in the middle.” Hotch says as you all nod putting your vests on and holding your guns out ready.

“Ready?” Spencer asks you.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You say.

“FREEZE FBI!” You announce, noticing the un-subs who set the bomb to go off and run. “After them, left stairwell, 6th floor, going down.” You say, “I got this.”

“Y/N…” Spencer began

“Spencer, fucking go. I’m fine.” You say shooing him away.

Spencer nods, not really wanting to leave you and goes after the un-subs with the team.

“You forgot about one thing princess.” You suddenly hear behind you.

“Smith?” You say, recognising his voice. “What the fucking shit?”

“Never were the smart one was you…” He said stomping on your arm and you scream out in pain trying to grab your weapon as he stomps on your leg and starts to tut. “Oh Y/N… So helpless… So innocent… Never could take my punches…” He said as you quickly notice a gap and grab your weapon, as he stabs you in the chest. You take your chance, whilst screaming in pain and shoot him dead then quickly tell the team you are hurt and continue to work on the bomb.

30 seconds until it goes off.

You take some wires apart. 20 seconds left.

“Y/N!” You hear the team call your name.

“Up here!” You call back, as you manage to stop the bomb going off and collapse next to Smith, blood pouring out of your chest.

“Y/N… Breathe… You’re going to make it…” Spencer says scooping you up and putting pressure on the wound as you close your eyes. “You’re going to make it…” He says again as tears go down his cheeks as the paramedics arrive to take you to surgery. “I’m going with her.” Spencer tells Hotch who nods.

“Keep us posted.” Rossi says as Spencer just keeps his head down as Morgan tells Garcia what happened.

“Oh my baby… Please bring her home.” Was all that she managed to say.

You ended up having surgery.

“Dr Reid?” A doctor said coming out in scrubs full of blood.

“Yes.” Spencer says quickly getting up, he hasn’t left the hospital since you went in 5 hours ago, twice to have a stress cigarette and to get a coffee.

“She’s strong that girl. Her heart stopped beating in surgery, but she’s out now and she’s awake if you want to speak to her.” He says

Spencer nods and follows the doctor to your room as he tells the team the news.

“Oh thank God.” Garcia says, “Bring her dessert. She needs chocolate pudding.”

Spencer walks into your room. “Hey.” He says softly

“Hi pretty boy.” You smile.

“Nice to see your memory wasn’t affected.” Spencer says

“If I’d been stabbed 5cm closer. I’d be dead.” You say, “I think my bomb days are over.” You chuckle then wince noticing the stitches.

Spencer sits down. “Are you okay, besides the pain?” He asks giving you the chocolate pudding.

“Yeah, I mean, I got my best friend right here and my favourite pudding. Can’t complain.” You say smiling

“I was really worried for you.” Spencer said

“Me too.” You admit

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer asked biting his lip

“If it’s for a stress cigarette, I already know you have had one.” You say, “We have the same habits Dr Reid.”

“No.” Spencer laughed. “I like you Y/N. I love you actually, more than just you being my best friend… I have for the last few years… Would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked looking down.

You smile, cupping his face with your hands. “I’d love to, but maybe when I’m not wearing a hospital gown and we have an audience.” You say referring to the team all there, and Penelope on Skype, waving at you.

“Audience?” Spencer asks then clocks the team. “Fuckers.” He says as they all come in to hug you and bring you more pudding.

“She’ll be out tomorrow morning.” The doctor said

“Thank you Doctor.” You smile at him

“Don’t do that again Y/N.” Hotch whispered to you, you’re like the daughter he never had. “You saved 1000 people, and we caught the other two un-subs.”

“My bomb days are over.” You assure Hotch and make grabby hands for the pudding Spencer has started to eat.

“Hey pretty boy, better make sure pretty girl gets her pudding or she’ll put a bomb on it.” Morgan said as you all laugh.

“I love you guys.” You smile.

“The feeling is mutual.” Rossi smiled as they all left you and Spencer alone.

“Stay the night?” You asked him quietly.

“I’m not leaving you.” Spencer smiled kissing your cheek and holding your hand.

“I thought you had a thing with germs.” You say

“I make exceptions for my Mum and my date.” Spencer smiled, “Now get some rest.”

“As long as you don’t eat my pudding.” You say as you close your eyes getting the best nights sleep you have had in a long time.

“Deal.” Spencer whispers as he sings you your favourite song, Firework by Katy Perry.

'Cause baby, you're a firework

Come on, show 'em what you're worth

Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"

As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you're a firework

Come on, let your colors burst

Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"

You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

Tag-list: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner , @gubler-me-up

Requests are open! 

Let me know if you want to be on my tag-list!

[liesyousoldme]

here’s another WIP eddie month fic! this is over 7k words and contains internalized homophobia including the use of slurs, and addiction to prescription drugs (based entirely on eddie’s addiction in the book). i was going to write an exploration of the issues eddie would’ve had to face had he survived but overall it ended up feeling too dark and i’m just not a dark writer so. on a happier note, stan lives in this au.

They stood in the lobby of the Derry Town House, covered in dirt and water from the quarry and who knows what else. Beverly had gone straight for the bar, pouring each of them a generous glass of whiskey.

The silence was deafening, filling every crevice of the otherwise empty hotel and surrounding the Losers like a heavy blanket. No one knew what to say. Their entire lives had been leading up to this, and now it was done. What comes after the happy ending?

“We need to talk about it,” Beverly said finally, her voice soft but solemn. “We can’t just – I mean…”

“Bev’s right,” Ben said from beside her. She shot him a thankful smile. “I mean, where do we go from here? Back to our lives? The lives where only one of us was even remotely happy?”

Stan almost looked ashamed, as though he should feel guilt for being the only happy one in the group. He still hadn’t told anyone how close he’d come…. How lucky they were that he’d made it here to begin with.

“Are you suggesting a fun little group therapy session?” Richie asked, gulping half his glass in one go, only wincing a little.

“I’m not really the share-my-feelings type,” Eddie frowned. He’d already finished his glass and placed it on the bar, and now stood with his arms crossed over his chest. The bandage on his cheek was no longer stark white; the dirt and water had turned it to a pale brown.

“None of us are,” Ben answered. “That’s the point.”

“You’ve lost me, buddy,” Bill said, then looked astonished that he hadn’t stuttered. “Wait, I’m not….”

“RIP to Stuttering Bill,” Richie said solemnly. Eddie hid a laugh behind his hand. Mike clasped Bill on the shoulder, offering him a sincere smile.

“I think talking is a good idea,” Mike announced.

“No offense, Mike, but you officially are not allowed to have ideas. Particularly ones that involve stealing rituals from other cultures and bullshitting your way through them even though you already know they won’t work. But other ideas, too. All of the ideas. Out of the question.”

Richie raised an eyebrow at Eddie, who seemed unable to stop talking.

“Like, we forgive you and everything, but.” Eddie shrugged.

“What if we shower and then go grab dinner?” Bev suggested. Her face was open, perhaps the most open it had been since they’d arrived in Derry. The others agreed with varying degrees of reluctance, Bev offering her shower to Eddie, and Bill telling Mike he could use the one in his room after he was done.

“You guys coming?”

Eddie startled, realizing everyone but he and Richie were already halfway up the stairs. He glanced awkwardly at Richie, who took the opportunity to raise his glass to his lips and sip very slowly. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“I’m waiting on this one to finish his drink,” Eddie told them, ignoring the Looks he received from his friends. He walked around the bar to put his glass into the small sink, just to seem busy.

“Aw, Eds,” Richie grinned, placing his unfinished whiskey on the bar. “You don’t have to wait for me, I’m a big boy.”

Eddie huffed. “I’m not, I’m just fucking nervous about showering.”

“Uh,” Richie said blankly. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Richie,” he began, anger edging into his voice, the way it sometimes did when he felt particularly anxious. “Maybe it’s because the last time I was in a shower I fucking stabbed a guy with a knife I’d just pulled out of my own fucking face!”

Richie’s eyebrows rose. He began to run a finger along the rim of his glass. “Yeah, that makes some sense.”

“You don’t have to stay down here and babysit me,” Eddie said, when Richie seemed like he was just going to stand there and play with his cup. He stuck a hand deep into the pocket of his jeans until his fingers closed around a small cylindrical bottle. He yanked it out, flicked the cap off, and took out two pills. “Go, shower. I’ll make my way up there eventually.”

Richie ignored him. He eyed Eddie, who picked up Richie’s unfinished whiskey to wash down the pills. Once Eddie had placed the now empty glass into the sink next to his own, Richie spoke. “Did you see Mike and Bill?”

“What?”

“Mike and Bill,” he repeated. “They went into Bill’s room together.”

Eddie’s face didn’t change.

“And did you see that little… You know. The forehead thing.”

“Literally what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Mike and Bill are gay for each other.”

Eddie choked, then coughed. Richie waited patiently. “Another gay joke, Rich? It’s fucking 2016, that’s not fucking funny –“

“I’m not joking!” Richie interrupted, holding his hands up in innocence. “There’s absolutely something happening there. The foreheads!”

“Why do you keep saying the word foreheads –“

“You didn’t see? After we killed It, they fucking – they put their foreheads together!”

Eddie opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.

“Look, like this,” Richie said, moving around the bar to stand in front of Eddie. He grabbed the back of Eddie’s head and pulled, leaning down so their foreheads would touch. He overshot, and Eddie groaned.

“Was that just an excuse to headbutt me?”

“No, look, theirs wasn’t so violent, but look man,” Richie said, and Eddie looked. Their eyes met, so close together, and he could feel every one of Richie’s fingers in his hair. He looked down, unable to hold the eye contact. Richie let go, took a step back. “See? They did that.”

“They were celebrating,” Eddie said, willing his heart to stop pounding.

“Uh, yeah, celebrating their gay love,” Richie answered in a ‘duh’ tone.

“Isn’t it just love, not gay love?”

“When did you become the gay police?”

Eddie sighed, putting his elbows on the counter and letting his head rest in his hands.

“Besides,” Richie continued. “I have the best gaydar ever. Or, like, bi-dar. Is that a thing? Bill’s bi. Have you seen his wife? She’s fucking hot. I dunno about Mike, though. He could be –“

“Just because a guy’s got a wife doesn’t mean he’s not gay,” Eddie interrupted. Richie immediately stopped speaking. Neither said anything, and Eddie didn’t lift his head from his hands.

Eventually, Richie cleared his throat and said, “Are you trying to tell me something, Eds?”

Eddie didn’t say anything, his mind racing. Usually when he was this nervous he couldn’t shut up, but now he felt like he didn’t even know how to talk. He willed the pills sitting in his stomach to kick in.

“Eddie?”

“I don’t know.”

His eyes were closed tightly, palms pressing into the sockets. Maybe he could just pretend Richie wasn’t here and he’d go away.

“You don’t know…” Richie exhaled, looking up at the ceiling. “You don’t know if you’re gay?”

“Wouldn’t that just be fucking hilarious?” Eddie said finally, looking up. His eyes were red. The nervous anger had arrived. “The perfect goddamn punchline!”

“Punchline? What are you –“

“You got married? To a woman?” Eddie mocked Richie’s voice, steadily getting louder. “Not like everybody didn’t already think it when we were kids! Not like I wasn’t the fag and the queer to anybody who saw me! Like I don’t notice the guys at work whispering behind their hands. Like I don’t know my mother-in-law has been telling my wife to leave me for someone who actually likes women for the six years we’ve been together!”

“I didn’t –“ Richie’s breath caught in his throat, his hands shaking at his sides. “Eds, I didn’t –“

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie shrieked.

Richie was surprised none of the others had peeked out their hotel room doors to see what the yelling was about.

“Eddie,” Richie corrected, “I didn’t mean anything by –“

“By the gay jokes?” Eddie finished for him. He was facing away from Richie, clutching the edge of the counter. “No, I’m sure you didn’t. God, fuck this. I’m going to shower.”

“No, Eddie, please,” Richie said, grabbing Eddie’s arm as he walked by. Eddie let him, stopping and sighing, but not making eye contact. “Seriously. Can we talk about it? Like actual adults?”

“Are you capable of adult conversation, Trashmouth?”

The corner of Richie’s lips quirked. “I think we both need it.”

Eddie nodded, still staring straight ahead. Richie released the light grip he had on Eddie’s arm.

“After dinner,” Eddie said, and then headed upstairs.

  There was an Applebees in Bangor. It was only a 25 minute drive from the Town House and the alcohol was cheap. Eddie had rattled off his list of allergies to the hostess before they even made it to the table.

“Can that be the first thing we talk about?” Richie asked, gesturing to Eddie.

“You want to talk about Eddie?” Bill asked.

“No, Eddie’s fake allergies,” Richie said. Eddie stared blankly at him.

“My allergies aren’t fake,” he said. His head wasn’t spinning so quickly anymore, he’d calmed down, was even a bit tired. When the waitress took their drink order, he ordered a margarita. Richie’s eyebrows rose at that, but he didn’t say anything.

“Eddie, you know all your medication is fake. Your mom was just bullshitting you –“

“That was – It was just the asthma. The inhaler. Because I have anxiety, I get… Panic attacks, you know. And Ma didn’t know what it was, we thought it was asthma, so I got an inhaler, and it just snowballed, I don’t know –“

“That’s bullshit,” Bev muttered. Eddie glared at her. “Seriously, it’s bullshit. And it’s why I wanted us to all talk.”

“To talk about me?”

“No, all of our bullshit! We all have it! I’ll go first: my husband abused me, and I left my ring at home. Well, not home anymore. Point is, I’m leaving him, and I’m taking control of my company. Because my life has been bullshit. I found someone who treats me exactly the way my dad did. And I didn’t – I didn’t even realize how bad it was until Mike called. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I deserved better!”

They all watched her speak, cheeks flushed red and eyes wet. Eddie could feel his own eyes watering.

“I just – You guys used to be my best friends. I’ve only made one other friend that I really, truly trust, and she lives across the country from me.”

“We’re still best friends, Bev,” Bill said, looking like he wanted to reach out to her but stopping himself at the last moment.

“Are we?” She asked. She looked at each of them. There were no expectations in her eyes.

“We can be,” Stan said quietly. “Do you guys remember… When we were kids, I asked if we’d all still be friends when we grew up. You all promised me we would. Told me I shouldn’t be so sad. That was the first thing I remembered when I got to Derry.”

“We didn’t mean to forget each other,” Ben said. “If we’d remembered… Things would have been different.”

“We can’t know that,” Stan responded, staring down at the table. “We were thirteen when we were friends. I don’t know about anyone else, but I am not the same person I was at thirteen. We might not even – without a common goal, I mean… Who’s to say we’d even be good together?”

Eddie bit his lip. Honestly, Stan was right. Eddie wasn’t the same person he was at thirteen. They’d grown up. Sometimes friendships aren’t meant to last forever.

“We can keep up with each other’s lives on Facebook or whatever,” Stan continued, “but is that really friendship? Friendship like we used to have?”

No one answered.

“We don’t know each other anymore. We may not be compatible and that’s… That’s okay.”

“Stan,” Beverly cried. The words were familiar from her mouth. “You don’t have to be so sad.”

“Yeah,” Stan answered, nodding but still avoiding eye contact.

“Can it be my turn, now?” Richie asked, pulling the attention from Stan to himself. It seemed a selfish move, but Eddie noticed the short eye contact and nod of thanks from Stanley and felt an aching fondness for Richie Tozier. “My bullshit is that I haven’t been happy since college, I can’t hold down a relationship, I don’t write my own jokes, and I’ve been ignoring my attraction to men for like… 27 years.”

Bill, who had a mouthful of beer, snorted, the amber liquid leaking from his mouth and nose. Everyone laughed, and once Bill had calmed himself, he grinned at Richie.

“Warn a guy, dude,” he said, lifting up his drink. “If anybody else is gonna come out, make sure nobody’s got a drink in their mouth!”

Eddie could feel the eyes on him. He stared down at the napkin in his lap, running his fingers along the edges. He wasn’t sure who was looking at him. Surely Richie. Probably Bill, and likely Bev as well. Stan wouldn’t, he wouldn’t be obvious, wouldn’t want to embarrass Eddie. Ben and Mike were on either side of him, probably aware of how blatant it would be if either of them turned to look at him. But still, they all had to be thinking it. Little sissy queerboy Eddie Kaspbrak.

His chest was beginning to tighten, and he squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut out the sounds and sights and smells of the restaurant around him. He forced himself to draw in a deep breath, but he became dully aware that a whimper escaped his mouth when the air refused to enter his lungs.

“Excuse me,” he choked out, pushing back in his chair and standing before anyone could answer, not caring as his napkin fell to the dirty floor. He had tunnel vision as he pushed his way down the aisle; the double doors at the front of the restaurant getting closer and closer as his breaths became shorter and shorter. He shoved the doors open once he reached them and tried to breathe in the fresh air once he was outside. It was marginally better than the stuffy air inside the restaurant but his chest still hurt, his lungs still wouldn’t open up.

He spotted a bench and sat on it, trying to force himself to take slower breaths. He jumped when a hand touched his back, but when he looked up it was just Richie, who at some point had sat beside him while he was busy trying to breathe.

“Hey, dude,” Richie said, rubbing small circles on his back. “Just breathe in… Breathe out. Breathe in… Breathe out.”

Eddie did his best to breathe in time with Richie’s voice. They sat like that, Richie’s voice quietly soothing and Eddie’s wheezing quieting with each inhale, for what felt like hours. Eddie knew it hadn’t been, had probably only been a few minutes, but he could feel the heat of Richie’s hand through his shirt, could feel the way their thighs pressed together on the bench, and it made every second last longer than he would’ve wanted.

“You good?” Richie asked. Eddie nodded, too embarrassed to look up. His face tended to get blotchy after a panic attack, and he knew his eyes were probably red. He’d always thought he took on the features of a particularly difficult toddler when he got like this, and he didn’t want to subject Richie to that view. He didn’t want Richie to see him like that. “You wanna get a headstart on that talk?”

Eddie exhaled loudly. “Not particularly.”

“Okay,” Richie agreed easily. Comfortable quiet settled between them and Eddie tried not to think about Richie’s hand, still rubbing circles on his back. “I think we should go to the hospital.”

Eddie lifted his head, alarmed. He knew his eyes were wide, jaw dropped, but he couldn’t help the horrified reaction he had when he heard the word hospital.

“Just – Your cheek. It’s bleeding again. You must have irritated it when you –“

“When I lost my shit?” Eddie suggested, wincing. He pressed a hand against the bandage and could tell it was dampening quickly. “I’ll just grab an Uber and meet you guys at the Inn.”

He was already pulling up his Uber app when Richie nudged his shoulder, grabbing at his phone. “I’m not letting you go to the hospital alone, dude.”

“I’m a grown man, Richie,” he argued, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, and you’re a grown man who’s terrified of hospitals and who I don’t trust not to fuckin’ run away the second he’s by himself.”

Eddie bit his lip and looked away. He hadn’t been thinking about escaping, but now he was imagining stopping for a fast food dinner of his own before sneaking back to the Inn, grabbing his things without anyone noticing he’d returned and taking off in his rental.

“I’m gonna let the others know where we’re going,” Richie said, standing. “Don’t go anywhere. Do I need to confiscate your phone?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie muttered, frowning. He winced as it pulled at his cheek.

Richie didn’t answer, just rushed back into the busy building. Eddie saw there was an Uber two minutes away so he ordered it. The blue car pulled up to the curb just as Richie stepped out of the restaurant.

“This is our car,” he told Richie, pointing. Richie nodded, following him. They sat in the backseat, Eddie said hello to the driver, and then the car fell into silence.

Eddie prodded at the inside of his cheek, wincing at the taste of blood and the feeling of split skin against his tongue. It was starting to hurt again, and he pulled his pill bottle out of his pocket. He flicked off the lid and let a multitude of pills fall into his hand, picking out one of the blue oblong ones and swallowing it dry.

“Didn’t you take some of that like, an hour ago?” Richie asked, not bothering to keep his voice down. Eddie glanced at the driver, who was clearly listening but pretending to pay them no mind.

“I took anxiety meds an hour ago,” Eddie said, stuffing the bottle filled with various pills back in his pocket. “That was a pain pill, for my cheek.”

“Dude, you took two pain pills after it happened,” Richie said warily. “Isn’t there a limit? On like, how much you can take in twelve hours or something?”

“Are you my fucking doctor?” Eddie snapped, glancing out the window.

“Just… looking out for you. What the fuck ever, forgive me for fucking trying.”

Eddie sighed loudly, grimacing at the pain it caused in his cheek.

They sat in silence for the last ten minutes of the ride, and Eddie made sure to tip the driver for not saying anything the entire time. The emergency room wasn’t crowded; it was a weekday evening, and there seemed to be no outbreak of any virus causing hoards of kids to take up the seats of the waiting room. Eddie went to the front desk to check in as Richie flopped into a chair at the edge of the room.

“Half an hour,” he told him, sitting a chair away. Richie gave him an amused look but didn’t comment. “Now that you know I’m not going to run away, you can go.”

Richie rolled his eyes. “I’m not leaving, shithead.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re friends?” Richie said, though it sounded like a question he wanted Eddie to answer.

Eddie shook his head. “Stan was right, Rich. We don’t know each other anymore. I’m a different person than I was at 13.”

“Why does that mean we can’t get to know each other again? We were best friends then, who’s to say we can’t be best friends now?”

My wife, Eddie wanted to say, but bit his tongue.

“It doesn’t work like that,” he said instead. His right knee had started bouncing, so he crossed his foot over his left knee. He wished he could take another Valium, but with the way Richie reacted to his pill bottle in the car he wasn’t going to risk it. Richie didn’t understand that he’d been taking these medications since he was 20, he had to take a little more than most people because his body had built up a bit of a resistance, but it was fine. A lot of people have to up their doses over the years.

“Why are you trying so hard not to be my friend?”

“Why are you trying so hard to be my friend?” Eddie countered. He knew he sounded like a little kid but he couldn’t help it. Richie could irritate him like no one else.

“Because whether you think so or not, I still care about you,” Richie said bluntly. “Sorry if that’s a fucking inconvenience to you, but a space demon making me forget you for half my life isn’t going to change that.”

Eddie laughed against his will. “A space demon?”

“Well, what the fuck else could he have been?!”

“A clown?”

“How many clowns do you know that can shapeshift, Eddie?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, biting his lip to keep from smiling. Fuck this guy, honestly. Nobody irritated him the way Richie Tozier did, but nobody made him laugh quite as easily, either. He hated it. Hated how proud Richie got when Eddie laughed at his jokes, the gleam in his eye as he realized that he’d given Eddie a good chuck.

“Seriously, though,” Richie said, holding eye contact. His glasses had a crack in the corner of the left eye, and Eddie focused on that. “Now that we’ve got each other back we can’t just… Drift apart again. You know I’m not serious often and this is physically paining me to say, but –“

“You’re so dramatic,” Eddie sighed. “Just – it’s not logical. Where do you live? LA, right? I live in New York. We’re literally on opposite sides of the country.”

“Hey, Eds,” Richie whispered loudly. “There’s this new invention, it’s called the internet –“

“Beep beep,” Eddie rolled his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched.

“I could fuckin FaceTime you daily. I could FaceTime you while on stage, show the whole audience your pretty face!”

“I don’t like that.”

“Fine. Not on stage. From my hotel rooms on tour, though,” he said with a waggle of his brows. Eddie glared at him. He shrugged, letting the conversation end. Eddie stared at his foot, crossed over his knee. It was shaking midair. He wasn’t nervous about the stitches, though he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it either, so why did he feel like he was vibrating out of his skin? Like a fist had grabbed his heart and was squeezing and –

He shuddered. Okay, bad metaphor.

But he was nervous. Past nervous. Anxious. It didn’t feel like he’d taken his anxiety pills at all. Richie’s words kept running through his head, telling him how they could be friends now.

He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about FaceTiming Richie or whether they’d all be friends after this because he was resolutely not thinking about After This. He refused to think about the wife he had waiting for him in Queens, who had sent him over a hundred texts since he’d left. His phone had been on do not disturb for a while now – there was no telling how many times she’d called. She’d probably called all his work friends, too, asking where he was. He hated to think what their answers would be.

The work friends that invited him to the bars and then pointed out guys for him, laughing the whole time. The work friends who, when referring to Myra, made sure to add finger quotes over the word “wife”. The work friends who had asked the exact same question Richie had when he’d first started: You’re married? To a woman?

They’d probably tell Myra he was off with some male lover for a vacation, that he’d run away to be with some guy he’d met online, that he went to meet up with an old childhood friend who had always been more than a friend.

Each thought made him more nauseous than the last.

  “All patched up?”

Eddie nodded, his prescription clutched tightly in his hand.

“What’s that for?” Richie asked, glancing down at the white paper.

“Prescription,” he said, breathing in deeply as they stepped outside. He noticed Richie on his own phone, calling a car.

“For?”

“Can you get off my dick about medication?” Eddie snapped, heart racing. He wasn’t even sure why he cared so much, why it made him so nervous that Richie seemed so interested in what pills he was taking.

“So it’s more pain meds,” Richie said, ignoring the outburst. “On top of the pain pills that you already happened to have. For what, exactly?”

“None of your fucking business, Richie,” he said. “If you’re trying to convince me to be your friend, you’re doing a really shitty job of it.”

“I think I’m probably doing a better job of being your friend than anyone you’ve been friends with in the last 27 years.”

Eddie turned to him, eyebrows raised. “And why is that?”

“Because whatever assholes you’re friends with now apparently aren’t doing anything about the fact that you take pills with alcohol, or that you have a bottle filled with who-fucking-knows-what in your pocket.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. Luckily, a black car stopped in front of them and without saying a word, Richie walked to it and got inside. Eddie followed, and they sat in silence again. It was past midnight by the time they returned to the Inn, and when they stepped inside the lobby was empty.

Ignoring Richie’s presence at his side, Eddie began to walk toward the stairs, stopping on the first step when Richie said his name.

“I thought we were gonna talk,” he said.

“Are you kidding?”

“Eddie, come on, man.”

Eddie walked back to Richie, eyes narrowed. “You want me to open up to you after you accused me of – of – fucking… Whatever!?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Eds,” Richie said quietly. He was looking directly into Eddie’s eyes. It felt like too much, and Eddie looked down at the floor. “I just wanted to make sure you’re being safe and taking care of yourself.”

“It’s not any of your concern,” Eddie answered after a moment. Somehow they were standing in each other’s space; he could feel Richie’s body heat, was looking at Richie’s shoes as he stared downward.

“I care about you, Eds,” Richie stressed before taking a large step back. “We all do. Even if you don’t talk to me, talk to one of us, please.”

His face felt hot. He closed his eyes tightly against tears that threatened to fall, let his hands ball up into fists.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” Richie pleaded.

He broke. One hand flew up to cover his mouth, trying to hide the sob that escaped his throat. He could hear Richie moving closer, feel his arms wrap around him and lead them to the couch. He tried to wipe his tears before they reached the bandage on his cheek, but they were coming too quickly. Richie was saying his name but it felt like he was underwater, like a barrier was keeping him from hearing clearly. He sucked in a deep breath and cried harder when his chest burned. He didn’t know what was happening around him, too focused on breathing through his mouth instead of his nose, which had stuffed up since the tears had started coming.

It took a long time for him to calm down. His mind raced with thoughts of Myra and the messages waiting for him on his phone. The dread he felt like a weight in his stomach at the notion of seeing her again, of having to explain why he left, where he’d been, what had happened to his face. He thought about work and the office filled with people he hated, and wondered why he’d spent the last three years pretending to like them. He thought about the way his mind had kept wandering the entire time he’d been in Derry, and how it reminded him of being a kid. He hadn’t been so aware of it when he was a kid, just how much he thought about Richie, but as an adult it was hard to miss. The sign at the pharmacy had large lettering and he thought about how Richie would be able to read it without his glasses. He saw a police car drive by and thought about Richie’s Irish Cop Voice from when they were kids. He saw the way Ben and Beverly looked at each other and he thought about what it would feel like to have Richie’s eyes on him like that. He saw them kiss underwater in the quarry and wondered what Richie’s lips would taste like.

He thought about his mom, how she’d always made comments about how dirty Richie was, and how he was going to get Eddie dirty, too. If only she’d known that it was the other way around. Even if he hadn’t realized it at the time, he knew his crush on Richie began when they were kids. He could remember that urge to always be near him, to always be touching him somehow, to be the one to make him laugh. And being hit with those feelings again now was sickening. He had a wife.

He had a wife that he didn’t love.

How did he not realize that you shouldn’t dread going home to the person you love? How did he ignore the way his mind drifted during sex? How did he convince himself just as much as her that the reason he couldn’t perform was because of his medications? It felt so obvious now, in Derry, that he’d never felt anything but resignation about his marriage. Of course this is who he would end up with. He needed someone to take care of him, someone to make sure he took all his medication, to make sure his inhaler was always filled, to remind him that chewing gum made his jaw pain worse, to make sure he remembered his jacket on chilly mornings and his boots on rainy days. He needed someone to keep him safe, secure, secluded, sedated.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the years he’d wasted; first, the years spent staying by his mother’s side, coming back after he’d left because the guilt was so heavy. Then, those years between her death and meeting Myra, that he’d holed up in a one-bedroom apartment and focused on nothing but his job, being the most efficient risk analyst there was, taking his pills every day and using his inhaler and not letting anyone close. And finally, the years with Myra. From their third date she’d sunk her claws into him and poisoned him with loving kindness. She’d trapped him with medication reminders and rides to each of his doctor’s appointments and weekly pickups from the pharmacy. She’d chained him with understanding and sympathy.

He couldn’t go back. He knew he couldn’t, and he knew that was why his chest had been so tight since the end. He hadn’t expected to survive. When he left Myra, he’d left with the knowledge that he would never return. He had assumed he would never return because he’d be dead, but now… Now he had a choice. He could crawl back home with his tail between his legs, and Myra would make sure he took his pain pills every four hours and his anxiety pills every six. She’d make sure he got his sleeping pill half an hour before bed and his heartburn pill half an hour before dinner. She’d pick up a new inhaler from the pharmacy and cook his favorite meals and cry when he couldn’t answer her questions.

Or.

What would he even do? He had a job, he had a home. Where would he go? Would he have to rent another one-bedroom? Slowly slip back into that lonely existence where nothing happened between work and home?

He hadn’t realized Richie’s arms were wrapped around him until he finally breathed in without a sharp pain racing through his chest. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but Richie was just silently holding him, hand occasionally running up and down his back. They were rocking back and forth a little.

He brought his hands up to his face, reaching over Richie’s arms, and wiped his tears, grimacing at the moisture that had collected in his bandage. He’d need to replace it before he went to sleep. He began to sit up, pushing against Richie’s chest where his head had fallen, and Richie released his arms. He was surprised to see red-rimmed eyes behind thick glasses.

“You okay?” Richie whispered. No one was around, and Eddie was sure the others were all upstairs asleep, but somehow they both recognized this would be easier to talk about in hushed voices.

“Not really,” he admitted, sniffling. He wasn’t as aware of their closeness now, like his body had gotten used to the feeling of Richie and had decided it was good, that he didn’t need to focus so much on every place they touched. “We can have that talk now.”

“Do you remember when we’d have sleepovers?” Richie asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “We used to have these deep conversations at like, one in the morning, about the future and what we wanted to do and who we wanted to be…”

“At least it worked out for one of us,” Eddie managed, sending Richie a sad smile.

“Maybe career-wise,” Richie shrugged. “Although after the way I bolted offstage I don’t know that I even have that anymore. But I’m not happy. I wanted to get married and have a dog and a cool apartment in the middle of a city with a big wall of windows. Do you remember that? And you wanted a big house with a pool in the backyard and a cat who had a litterbox that never smelled bad.”

Eddie snorted at the memory. “Maybe they’ve come up with the technology for that by now.”

“So no cat?”

“No,” Eddie sighed. “Allergies.”

Richie frowned. Before he could say anything Eddie put a hand up. “Yeah, I know. But I spent the last twenty-something years believing… I mean…”

“I know,” Richie said.

“You know how much medication I take every day?” Eddie asked suddenly, sitting up. “I take Valium every 4 hours as needed, but of course my chest is tight all the time and I always feel nervous so I usually take it every time. I take it so often it doesn’t even make me tired anymore. Then I take a pain pill every six hours because I have a TMJ disorder that makes my jaw hurt, and the pain goes all the way up to my temple and behind my ear and down the back of my neck. And I have to take heartburn pills before I eat, a sleeping pill before I sleep. I take an allergy pill after dinner, I use my inhaler constantly, I take seven different vitamins daily…”

Richie opened his mouth to say something but closed it, looking at Eddie with his own painful expression.

“I don’t want you to – to feel sorry for me, okay? I get enough of that from my wife. I’m not some poor delicate weak damsel in distress who needs protecting, even though that’s what I’ve thought for the last 27 years, and all 13 years minus a few months before that.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” Richie corrected. “And I don’t think you’re weak. In fact, you may recall me telling you just how brave I think you are. But now that you know you don’t need all that stuff…”

“But I do, that’s the point!”

“What?”

“Maybe I don’t need to be waited on hand and foot but I’m still anxious as fuck all the time. I still hurt. I still can’t fall asleep on my own. It’s like my mother willed me into actual sickness, into needing to take all these pills every day.”

“Fuck that,” Richie said, voice increasing in volume. “Seriously. Your mom was an awful person but she’s fucking dead and she can’t control you anymore. You’ve just gotta… I dunno man, go to therapy, stop taking so many Valium, dude, seriously, and get the fuck away from your wife. Maybe your life is never gonna be perfect, and you’ll never be the pinnacle of health, but you can be happy. At least happier than you are now.”

“I’m not happy at all now,” Eddie admitted, biting his lip. “I don’t know if I even know what happiness feels like.”

“I thought I didn’t,” Richie told him. “When I came back to Derry, I realized how empty I’d been for so long without realizing it. I tried to think back to when I was younger, after college, and I realized I wasn’t even happy when I was with Sandy. That was probably the best part of my adult life and even then I was only okay. But the more I remembered that summer, the years before that summer when it was just you, me, Bill, and Stan… I was happy then. I think you were, too. Maybe not all the time, because your mom fucking sucked, but… When it was just us, we were all happy. That’s why I –“

Eddie swallowed thickly. “That’s why you want us to be friends again so badly.”

Richie nodded, wiping beneath his eyes. “I just remember how much I loved you guys, how happy I was with you, and I know we can be like that again.”

Eddie didn’t answer for a moment. He turned his head, looked around the empty hotel lobby and listened to the sound of Richie’s breathing. Finally, he looked straight into bright blue eyes.

“Do you think I should get a divorce?”

Richie made a noise, something between a laugh and a sob, before he spoke. “That’s not up to me, Eds. If you’re – if you –“

“If I’m gay?” Eddie’s voice was barely audible.

“Yeah,” Richie whispered back. “If you are, then… It’s not really fair to either of you. To stay together, I mean. But it’s your choice. I can’t make the decision for you.”

“Do you…” he looked down, unable to see Richie’s reaction to the question. His heart pounded with nerves. “Do you want me to get a divorce?”

It was quiet apart from Richie’s labored breathing. Eddie kept staring at their laps.

“Sorry,” Eddie said. “I shouldn’t have…”

“What I want doesn’t matter, Eds,” Richie answered finally. Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d understood all that Eddie was asking. Eddie wasn’t even sure what he was asking. What would he have done if Richie had said yes? That wouldn’t necessarily mean anything about how he feels for Eddie. It would just mean he wants what’s best for his friend. Besides, Eddie wouldn’t even… If he does get a divorce, if that was what Richie wanted… He doesn’t know if he’d even be able to –

To what? To be in a relationship with Richie? To love him out loud, for anyone to see? Just the thought made him want to run up the stairs, crawl into the bed and never come back out. He couldn’t think about it, maybe one day he would be ready to consider being with a man, but he wasn’t there yet. He couldn’t even imagine the concept of being with a man that wasn’t Richie. Sure, he found others attractive, was attracted to them, but… How was he supposed to fall in love with one when Richie was right there? When he knew Richie existed?

“I guess I have a lot to think about,” Eddie finally said, looking back up at Richie. He looked tired, bruises beneath his eyes, glasses slipping down his nose. His hair was messy, evidence of how much he’d run his hands through it since his shower before dinner. His lips were red, like he’d been biting them throughout the conversation, like he’d been uncomfortable. But he nodded at him, stood up, and offered a hand out to Eddie. He took it, muttered, “thanks,” and followed Richie up the stairs. They said a quick and quiet goodnight and when Eddie entered his room he placed his prescription on the bedside table and went to the bathroom to replace his bandage. He noticed someone had cleaned up the blood from Bowers’ attack, though there still was no curtain in his shower. He sent a silent thanks to whichever of his friends had been there before he quickly replaced his bandage. He grabbed a t-shirt from his suitcase, kicking his jeans off and changing tops. His suitcases sat open on the floor, everything inside folded neatly and placed perfectly. He stared at the endless pill bottles in his toiletries bag and felt sick. His sleeping pill was the third from the right. His allergy pill was to the left of that. It wasn’t time for a pain pill yet, the first bottle in the long line, but normally he would take it anyway since he’d be sleeping when the four-hour mark passed.

He ignored them all, closed the suitcase, and crawled into bed.

He stared at the wall for two hours. Finally, fighting tears, he got back out of bed and reached into his bag. He grabbed the third bottle from the right, popped off the lid, and dry swallowed one tablet. Then he picked up another bottle, the first on the left, and shook two pills out into his hand. He swallowed those, too. With a heavy heart, he placed his head back on the pillow and fell asleep.  

[sadsapphicslut]

chapter one - original story (i havent come up with a title yet lol)

okay so here it is!! if anyone actually reads this i love u :) please leave feedback if u have any!! 

TWs:

death, drugs, medication, mental illness, references to sex, swearing, alcohol

wordcount: 8.2k

(also i dont think anyone will but im paranoid of people stealing my writing so obligatory dont copy/post to another site or steal my work in any other ways etc)

There were five of us; 4 boys and me. In hindsight I realize from the outside our group probably seemed a little predatory, but it was never really like that. For the most part they were like brothers to me. Of course, being the only girl in a small and isolated club of mainly older boys, things were bound to happen. We were in high school and it was summer, can you blame me? Regardless, however much I loved them, it was not quite in the way my father always assumed or my mother always warned (during our uncomfortable monthly visitations before I managed to get rid of her for good).

The months everything went down, which I often referred to only as ‘The Worst Summer of My Life’, (quite melodramatically but not without reason) were somehow still full of the best moments of my life. Moments I often find myself wishing I could repeat, as nothing has or will ever come close to the way I felt, sitting amongst my boys day after day, somehow light as the warm July breeze that blew past us. My entire body weightless, as non-existent as the time that passed us by. Despite the depression I’d found myself plunged into during the days after my only brother’s death, I truly believe I will never again be as happy as I was then. Laughter seemed to flow freely from our mouths, smiles plastered onto our faces no matter the circumstances, content to just exist. I don’t think I can ever forget the day it was raining so hard the entire city was flooded, but we walked around uptown well past the point of being absolutely drenched, our clothes dripping so heavily the security guard denied us entry into the public library. Something about that day made me feel so free, like we were invisible. Completely apathetic to the whims of the real world, somehow existing only in our twisted minds and intertwined fantasies.

Maybe if I’d had my head screwed on a little tighter, or if we’d met under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did. I used to go down that line of thought every night before succumbing to a fitful but heavy sleep (under the direct affect of 25mg of Quetiapine, working to counteract my Concerta and Lexapro). Those types of irrational thoughts were ones my therapist deemed as my habit for rumination. In regard to the death of my brother she called it ‘bargaining’, one of the stages of grief. I never liked it when she spoke about those stages as I’ve always felt them to be wrong. Maybe because I never quite moved on to the final one, no matter how many years pass. ‘Acceptance’, coined as the “Re-entrance to reality”. Maybe it’s different since I was never really grounded to reality in the first place. I still wake up some mornings, thinking I’ve heard his voice in the other room, ready to beguile me with tales from his day of retail work. Other times I swear I’ve walked past him on the street. Some people may relate to my experiences, with reasonings of ghosts, angels, apparitions, or insanity, among many other causes for the apparent viewing of a loved one long gone to the other side. I never shared these beliefs, but I am not one to deny. Rather, I always take these instances as an omen. A warning. I have come to this conclusion not without evidence, at least circumstantial, given the many occasions over the years – and especially that summer – where I found my hypothesis to be true. All I can say is that I am glad I’ve never been met with the same chimerical visions of my mother; one can only hope that is because she ended up where she belonged. Maybe I’ll see her there, though I hope at the very least they could keep us in separate rooms of Hell if the situation does arise.

From what I know of the others now, which is admittedly not much – majorly due to my own neglect, as opposed to theirs – they share the same prescription for rose-coloured glasses as I. We always were too engrossed with our own romanticization of nostalgia and sentiment that it clouded our view. I often think this was one of the reasons we seemed to fit so well together. Not quite like puzzle pieces, too self-absorbed to hold a candle to that analogy, more like complimentary colours. I wish it could’ve stayed the way it was. We did try, and I never found myself able to fully disentangle myself from James, nor he could to I, but for most of us we could recognize an ending when one arises. I used to find myself using the word tragedy a lot while reminiscing, but I no longer think that word is appropriate. Fate is a more fitting term in my opinion, regardless of if one believes in it or not. “(A)n inevitable and often adverse outcome, condition, or end,” as reported by Merriam Webster. I don’t think there’s a word in the entire English language more accurate in describing how everything ended up; and if there is, I am yet to find it.

  Chapter One

A Dead Brother

          I have tried to erase the day my brother died from my memory so many times I lost count decades ago. I still find the image seeping into my unconsciousness quite dreadfully on the nights I neglect to take my pills and catch myself waking up with a steady flow of tears that dampen my pillow along with the drool that always seems to pour from my sleeping mouth. The dread that pools in my stomach sometimes being heavy enough for me to lose my lunch. I frequently wonder how people managed to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault; the most painful lie I’ve ever been told and one that seemed to stream from people’s mouths as easily as the mini sandwiches laid in the living room of my brother’s wake were stuffed in. The worst part about being told it wasn’t my fault was how obviously one could tell they didn’t believe what they were saying either. His death was my fault; a fact so uncontestable I wanted to kill myself every time I was reminded of it.

           My therapist often tried to remind me that even if his death was “partially” (she always used the word partially, refusing to acknowledge the truth that his death was entirely my fault) my fault, there was nothing I could’ve done to prevent it. This was another lie I despised being told. There were a million ways I could have prevented his death or saved his life and yet, here we are, with him dead and me wishing everyday that I won’t wake up tomorrow. “Begonia,” she’d tell me – she was the only person who called me by my full name, I usually went by Nia, but a nickname felt too personal and I didn’t like her very much – “You mustn’t keep torturing yourself with these scenarios. He’s dead, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I am starting to wonder if you are going to let yourself move on. This isn’t healthy.” That was a line she liked to use a lot, “this isn’t healthy”. As if anything I do is.

           Barb, my therapist that is, liked to go over the details of my brother’s death a lot. She often called it a ‘trigger’, which is why she always seemed to want me to talk about it. “Trauma is a horrible thing, Begonia, and you must learn to move past it, process it. I can see you still haven’t managed to do that on your own, and that’s what I’m here for, to help you move on.” Barb was big on the idea of  “moving past trauma” and “learning to cope”, she often sounded like a broken record of a motivational speech. I found myself comparing her to school guidance councillors without realizing it, they were about equally as helpful (read: not helpful) in my opinion.

           Sometimes I blame my inability to forget and “move past” my brother’s death on the way Barb constantly brought it up and made me go through it. I never quite understood how that part of my therapy was supposed to help me. I asked her once, what good was it doing rehashing the worst day of my life?

           “Well, Begonia,” I hated the way she said my name, always so condescending and sour, like even the idea of me questioning her in any way was as impolite as shitting on her desk.

“You have to understand that I only want to help you. You seem to be unable to process your traumas on your own, which is why we need to go through these things. As you are aware, this PTSD,” she always left strange pauses after each letter, her slow tone grinding on my ears, “you have acquired has left you unable to function normally in daily life. I want you to get to a place where you can have a normal life (Ha!) and cope without these meetings. It’s what your brother would’ve wanted.” Barb liked to tell me what my brother would have wanted at least once every session. Putting aside the fact she knew next to nothing about him aside from the intimate details on how he died, I always thought it was an inappropriate thing to say as a psychologist specializing in grief counselling. It never particularly bothered me, I was reasonable enough to realize she was just trying to comfort me, but I never liked the phrase. “What your brother would’ve wanted.” What he would’ve wanted was to not die but we’re past that, aren’t we Barb, as you so often enjoyed telling me.  

I have always been quite averse to my diagnoses, ADHD at 14, Persistent Depressive Disorder at 15, PTSD at 16, issues with alcohol and drugs that landed me in rehab more than once. I’ve been on a concoction of different medications since I was 13, even before I was diagnosed with anything officially. Sertraline, Lexapro, Prozac, Ritalin, Concerta, Adderall, Quetiapine, Ambien, Zopiclone, a healthy mix of off brand and branded medications. Sleeping pills, antidepressants, stimulants. I can’t remember a time before monthly trips to the drug store and side effect surveys that I’m not sure if I ever told the truth on. It’s a wonder that people didn’t see a slew of addiction issues coming from a mile away.

I think I’ve always had the most contention with my PTSD diagnosis though, I hate it because I know it’s undeniably true. I wish it wasn’t because maybe that’d mean my brother was still alive, but he isn’t. And I’m left traumatized and bereaved. Sometimes it feels like it hurt me more than it ever did my mother or father. Maybe it did. I should feel selfish for saying that, but I can’t, because they didn’t have to look at him while the life left his body, praying to God for the ability to turn back time. See the moment his eyes glazed over, knowing I’d never get to hear his obnoxious laugh, or make fun of his dumb face ever again.

  ❈

             “Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.”

It was a cool evening in May, the end of spring brought with it the promise of summer and the air had the familiar aroma of daffodils and petrichor. I had decided to go to a party with my friend Faun, my dad having been out at his girlfriend’s place for the weekend and me having nothing better to do. I wasn’t one for partying, but I did like to get high, so I usually just hung around with the rest of the potheads and pill junkies until someone dragged me home or I fell asleep. That night Don, a friend of a friend of a friend, had brought coke and E and we were all determined to get as fucked up as possible. Faun only ended up doing one line before running into a bedroom with some guy whose name started with an M – was it Martin or Marvin? Maybe it was Mickey – and left me sitting on the couch beside a girl who was about 1 more shot of vodka away from passing out.

I had fully intended on doing some coke, but the E seemed to be hitting harder than I was used to. I was sure my Ritalin had worn off by then but maybe I was wrong. As I stood up to get a glass of water I nearly fell over and decided to sit back down. Turning to face Don, I tapped him on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

“What was in that molly?” I was vaguely aware of the way my words were slurring, but I felt weirdly energized. I was aware my heart was beating a little too fast, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I knew what ecstasy felt like, this was not nearly my first time doing it, but I felt really wrong.

           “Don!” He turned to look at me and I felt uneasy. His eyes looked a little crazed – not that out of the ordinary but given the circumstances I was worried – “What the fuck did you give me?” It felt like I’d done 5 lines of coke in the last 2 minutes and I knew that E had been spiked.

           Don’s face had an unmistakable expression of guilt written on it as he leaned down and whispered in my ear, his voice shaking, “I think it was cut with meth.” Fuck. My stomach dropped. I have to get out of here. I quickly shot up from the musty couch I was sat on, carefully holding onto Don’s shoulder so I didn’t fall, my legs still feeling unsteady. I opened my phone; the screen was too bright, and I had a hard time maneuvering it as I attempted to exit the house. Clicking the green Messages icon, I sent a text to Faun – e ws cut w meth im lesving – with shaky hands and burst out the door into the fresh air. I clicked my brother’s contact and pressed call.

           It rang four times before he picked up.

           “Nia? Why are you calling me it’s like 1am?” I could tell from the smooth tone of his voice he’d been drinking. He didn’t very often but he had an appreciation for cocktails and enjoyed getting buzzed now and then. He still was a year from being legal to drink but his friends we’re all 19 and 20 and bought alcohol for him. I found him fun when he got drunk, becoming talkative and giggly, but right now I wished so badly for him to be sober.

           “Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.” I was slurring, my voice a bit too pitchy to pass as anything but high. I knew he didn’t like it when I did this, but he never ratted me out. Sometimes I wish he did, maybe I never would’ve been able to go to that party in the first place.

           I could hear a door shutting on his end, I assumed he was going into a different room. “What’s wrong?” My skin was bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of having to tell him what I did.

           “Fuck, uh… I did something stupid. I’m at Emily Goguen’s, y’know up in Champlain Heights. Please pick me up.” I rarely used the word please.

“Nia, what the fuck did you do?” I almost started crying but I found my eyes to be bone dry.

“Please don’t yell.”

“Okay, really, tell me what is going on or I won’t come get you.”

“I accidentally took meth.”

“You what? What the fuck, Nia! Fuck this I’m on my way and I’m fucking telling Dad.” I cringed but I knew he was going to before I even called. The pit in my stomach grew deeper as the buzzing of my skin grew stronger. I could feel myself getting higher, everything was so clear and standing around was making me grow restless. Ray huffed on the phone and I heard him entering his car.

His tone was softer the next time he spoke. “I’ll be there in 5, just stay put, please. Do you want me to stay on the call or can I hang up?”

I felt like a child, which I was really, only 16 at the time, a whole life ahead of me. Still, I was grateful for the way he spoke to me, reminiscent of being 6 and getting a scrapped knee after falling off my pink Razor scooter. The high made me edgy, and my voice was sharp to my ears, “No, you can hang up.” I heard the click to indicate he’d done just that, and started pushing my cuticles as I waited, the task somehow greatly interesting me, and I did not realize until later I had managed to pick off all of the skin around my pointer and middle fingernails during the five-minute wait.

 Ray pulled up exactly five minutes later in his ugly, blue 2011 Ford Fiesta he’d gotten the year prior after passing his driving test. What I wouldn’t do now to smell the inside of that car once again, a distinct attar of pineapple car freshener and Old Spice deodorant mixed with stale black tea, faintly present due to his ever-growing collection of empty paper cups from various different fast foods and coffee shops.

I stumbled into the car, feeling the strong impulse to clean the space, but attempting to push it down. From the passenger side overhead mirror I could see my blown pupils and sweaty forehead, pieces of my copper red hair sticking to my face. My freckles were showing through my concealer that had mostly worn off and I wanted to cover them back up. My skin was pale from winter (and probably the drugs in my system) but my cheeks were flushed like I was drunk. My high cheekbones made my face look gaunt in the lighting, but my face was wide which balanced it out, so I didn’t look completely skeletal. Ray was looking at me, the worry apparent in his eyes, but his face was flushed as well, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit too much to drive. I had my license as well, but it was clear I was in no condition to take over on that front, so I didn’t bother saying anything. I wish I had. There’s a lot of things I wish. I wish I hadn’t gone to that party; I wish I hadn’t taken that E; I wish I called someone else; I wish I waited it out at Emily’s; I wish I walked home; I wish I took a cab; I wish I waited for Faun; I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t take his eyes off me as I shut the mirror in front of me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. Please just take me home.”

“Is Dad there?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should take you to Mom’s.”

“No!” I’d moved out of my mom’s completely just over 6 months ago, barely seeing her once a month. It was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. She never liked me much anyways, the feeling was entirely mutual. Ray seemed to have a close bond with her for some reason despite how she treated him like shit. I never called him out though, he no longer lived with her, so I didn’t really care what their relationship was as long as she wasn’t hurting him. She did treat him significantly better than me, however, so I figured maybe he managed to forgive her the way I never could.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until Dad gets home. I’m not gonna lie to him about this shit. Fucking meth, Nia? Seriously?”

“It was in the molly.” He sighed and started driving.

 My brain felt like it was filled with butterflies, or ants, some kind of movement that was itching at my skull. The paper cups scattered around were making me anxious and I needed to clean his car. I began picking at my nails again, but I needed to pick up those cups, you see. I turned around and started gathering the ones Ray had discarded in the back, filling up an empty plastic bag from Best Buy. I was fully switched around in my seat, nearly crawling into the backseat to reach the trash my brother had left. I felt him tap my side, I looked over at him and he started to scold me.

“Nia, stop that will you, you’re distracting me.” But I needed to finish gathering the cups. The car was dirty, and my skin was itching, the traffic lights burning my skin. I was elated and I didn’t want to listen to him, he was just trying to get in my way. I continued to lean over, not registering the swerve of the car as he looked over at me.

“Nia – ”

He turned over to push me back into my seat, his eyes leaving the road for no more than a few seconds. This time I felt the swerve as we broke into the next lane.

 This is where I have a hard time piecing together what happened. From what I was told, we ended up running directly into a 2015 Dodge Ram 2500. In case you understandably have a lack of knowledge when it comes to cars, that is a very large, sturdy, and expensive pickup truck which I would probably consider the last vehicle you’d want to charge headfirst into while going 70km per hour. I don’t recall the actual incident of hitting the truck, whether that be from the drugs, the position I was in, or hitting my head on the roof of the car, I don’t know. What I do know is that when I woke up, we were in a ditch on the side of the road, with the car flipped upside down, and my entire body was screaming at me to Get Out!

I felt blood oozing sluggishly from my head and noted some indistinct pain in my right wrist where it had scraped something pretty badly and gotten twisted, but I otherwise felt alright. I couldn’t tell if the cloudiness in my head was from a concussion or the earlier events of the night, but I figured it was probably good I was awake, regardless of how dazed I seemed.

I turned my head to the left and was greeted by a view I will never be able to forget, it having been branded to the insides of my eyelids, scorched in my mind. Ray, with his left arm twisted in spectacular fashion, reminding me of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, after Lockhart spells away Harry’s bones. My brother had always been squeamish with broken bones and I hoped he wasn’t aware of how his limb looked at the moment. His head was bleeding quite profusely, and I was alarmed despite how many times I’d heard in movies that headwounds bleed a lot. His eyelids were fluttering, irises appearing glassy and unfocussed. And then I saw it. A piece of glass was stuck in the left side of his neck. The windshield apparently had broken with the impact and my brother was lucky enough to get a piece lodged right in his trachea. It was thick, bright red blood –  that I could’ve sworn was sparkling in my current inebriated perspective – was gushing out the side, so heavy I could smell it, taste it, in the air. I was frozen once I realized.

Do something, do something! Put pressure on it! Call 9-1-1! My mind was screaming at me, but it was all I could do to sit and watch the blood stain his clothes. He was wearing the corduroy jacket I’d gotten him for his birthday and a white button up, the red seeped into them until it was as if they’d always been that colour. My voice was caught in my throat, but I managed to push some sound past.

“Ray?” It was weaker than a whisper but in the silence that seemed to envelope us in that car, completely independent of the outside world and sirens that could surely be heard from blocks away, I knew he would be able to hear me.

He looked up, eyes focussing slightly on me, and a tear slipped down his face, only it went the wrong way since we were still upside down. He mouthed the words “I love you”. We never said that to each other. As close as we were, our relationship had always been more comparable to that of a best friend than sibling. We weren’t overly affectionate, never hugged or said I love you, hung out for enjoyment rather than as a punishment. Most people didn’t know we were brother and sister until we pointed it out, we never really looked alike and were absent of the traditional distaste and rivalry usually present between siblings. I knew, as he looked me in the eyes and said those words, this would be the last time I’d ever see him outside of a morgue.

I sat in my seat next to him with dry eyes, wishing desperately I could cry, needing to express the feeling of utter horror and despondency that completely overtook my body and mind, but I couldn’t. Barb told me time and time again that I was in shock, there was nothing I could’ve done, but I will never be able to believe that. I still remember the moment the final tear slipped down his face. He smiled at me, pain evident in his eyes. His entire body was covered in the metallic smelling red, and I wanted to vomit. I wish I could say the crash had sobered me, but it didn’t, not really. I was still entirely in a daze as I saw his muscles relax, smiling falling from his face, eyes not quite rolling back all the way but enough to give me nightmares for the next 20 years. The life had been absorbed from his body, leaving a heavy shell. I was told afterwards this all happened within the span of 10 minutes, but it felt like years. By the time the first responders had appeared I was an old woman. Grayed hair, and arthritic bones. Mourning for the brother I’d lost oh so many years ago, when I was just a girl. I think in a way I died in that car with him, I never was really the same. But who would be? Best friend and confidant, older brother, idol, dying in front of your eyes as you do nothing, knowing for the rest of your life that his death is – was – your fault. Knowing you could’ve done something, anything really, to prevent his untimely loss of life before the paramedics arrived. If I’d been the same after that night I would have to be much more disturbed than I ever thought.

I sat in that car beside Ray’s corpse for 3 more minutes before I heard the sirens closing in around us – me. I thought I might pass out, either from the toll of what I’d just witnessed or from my concussion, but I remained upright, probably from the adrenaline. I couldn’t move so I just waited, and hoped I’d die too before anyone reached the scene. It would be much preferrable to any other outcome I could think of at the time. I could vaguely register the pain in my wrist, but I felt so numb I’m sure you could’ve shot me in the foot and I wouldn’t have blinked.

A young fireman named Walter ended up getting me out of the car. The door was smashed and stuck which meant I’d been trapped in there either way. I was happy I hadn’t bothered trying to escape as I'm terribly claustrophobic and finding out I couldn’t would have thrown me into a proper panic attack. The fireman was incredibly nice, saying reassuring things the entire time they were opening the door with the “Jaws of Life”. I ended up seeing him again in the hospital actually, or at least that’s what my father told me. He wanted to check in on me and left me some hydrangeas in a vase. I always preferred chrysanthemums but I'm not that picky when it comes to a floral arrangement.

After the door was busted open I was carried out by Walter. I was shaking and apparently babbling nonsense but in my head I was trying to tell them to save Ray. I wasn’t really aware of all that much, completely blind to the crowd of spectators that had rudely gathered to witness the violence – wasn’t it supposed to be taboo to stop at a car crash? Wondering vaguely about what happened and wishing you could get a better look as you drive past the scene.  My head wound had made me a bit incompetent and the meth in my system was really not helping the entire situation.

I was laid on a gurney and rolled onto an ambulance. I don’t remember much about the ride; the sirens, the bright lights, a paramedic named Alice who spoke softly, smoothing out my hair while the other put an oxygen mask on my face (which I wasn’t entirely cognizant enough to question though now I'm not really sure why they did it) and splinted my wrist. Alice asked me if I was on drugs and I nodded but was unable to speak when she asked me what ( I would find this a common occurrence after the accident, my voice seemingly stolen alongside Ray’s). She just nodded and said something to the other ME that I didn’t quite pick up. She asked if I could tell her my name and I shook my head. She must’ve noticed the iPhone in my pocket and grabbed it, turning to the medical ID page.

“Is your name Begonia?” I nodded, though the name sounded foreign on my ears. I liked the way Alice said it though, she had a light Spanish accent and a matronly tone that made me feel safe. I wondered if she had kids of her own; she looked young, but my own mother had me at 19 so who could say? She told me her name after complimenting mine. “Begonia is a beautiful name; I love the flowers. I’m Alice, okay? We’re gonna make sure you’re alright and take you to the hospital.” Her voice was sweet like syrup and I became sleepy as she spoke.

“No honey, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little bit longer and I promise you they’ll let you sleep at the hospital.”

  I don’t remember anything of the rest of the ride to the hospital. I was dropped off at the Emergency Room at the Regional, head still too foggy to allow me to recall anything before I was sitting in a white bed, in a white room, with white sheets and a light blue hospital gown on. It was morning and my father was sitting at the end of my bed in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his eyes bloodshot and moist. He’d very obviously been crying for a long time and my chest panged with guilt. I reached up to feel my head and realized there was a cast on my wrist. With my other hand I touched the cotton that covered my forehead, wincing when I felt the sting of what had to be stitches in a nasty gash. I would spend the next 5 years of my life with a variety of diverse haircuts that attempted to hide the ugly scar that served as a reminder of the worst night of my life. Even now it is still extremely obvious, but I can’t be bothered to try and hide it, I so rarely look in the mirror that it wouldn’t matter if my skin turned blue.

My dad hadn’t looked up, so I attempted to gain his attention but once again found my voice failing me. I tapped on the bed a few times before he seemed to realize and face me.

“Nia… how are you feeling?” His voice was raspy and thin. He reeked of cigarettes and stale coffee, though this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I remained silent as he looked at me, searching my face for something I'm not sure he found.

“Nia, I, I'm not sure how to say this to you.” Here it comes. Almost worse than watching my brother die, the confirmation. “Ray, he’s, well dead.” I saw my father’s eyes begin to tear up again as I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t feel the sobs that racked my body, nor the hot tears streaming from my eyes. I saw my dad start to move closer but sit back down when I flinched. Of course, I knew my brother was dead; I had front row seats to watching the event happen, but somehow I still didn’t believe it until the words left my father’s mouth. According to my dad, who many years later described to me how eery the whole event was, my sobs were completely silent, and I was entirely unaware of everything happening around me. This dissociation lasted the first few days after the accident, and the entirety of my hospital stay. Leaving the blissful gap in my memory I have now.

Barb told me this was my mind’s way of coping with the tragedy and stress of what happened. I was honestly just happy I had an excuse to skip some of the dreadful retelling she forced upon me.

 ❈

             The funeral was of course a depressing and solemn event. I was still yet to speak and found myself thankful for the way people gave up on trying to get me to communicate. I dressed in a black skirt with a black short sleeved button up. A dark coat thrown around my shoulders as the cast on my right hand was too big to fit through the sleeve. I looked terrible, barely a week out of hospital before I watched Ray sink into the ground. The wound on my forehead was still quite nasty, though it looked better than it did before. I tried to cover it up with my hair but was unsuccessful. I got bangs soon after.

           The matter was very traditional, taking place in a church even though none of our family was really religious. It was only the second time I'd ever been in a church, the first having been for my cousin Julie’s wedding when I was four years old. I don’t remember anything of it aside from the material of my dress itching at my neck and making me rather miserable. Of course, not nearly as miserable as I was the day of the funeral, sitting in a pew at the front of the church, listening to a priest claiming Ray would’ve wanted us to celebrate his life. I knew this not to be true; Ray was extremely dramatic and would’ve cherished the thought of everyone he’d ever spoken to moping around for weeks after his death, beside themselves with grief. He sometimes referred to himself as “Romeo” after having been broken up with by another girl he was supposedly in love with, stating he better just stab himself in the heart now if he couldn’t have her. On the rare occasion he broke up with a girlfriend, he’d lounge around, eating ice cream, pretending to not be upset and comparing his cold heart to that of Richard VIII. The concept of him being any different over his death was almost comical; Ray was nothing if not predictable.

           I sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother (it was an extremely awkward arrangement that neither I nor my father cared for) and seemed to have the idea that I could evaporate if I thought hard enough about it. Unfortunately, I did not evaporate, or even come close to it, instead finding myself exactly where I'd been the whole time. I mostly tuned out the service, only really paying attention when my father and Ray’s best friend, Jake spoke. I managed to escape the duty of having to speak that day thanks to my fragile mental state and mutism. Though I'm sure I would’ve been forced all the same if I had been able to talk in any capacity, regardless of where my head was at.

           Faun was sitting in the pew behind me, feeling quite guilty about the whole ordeal. Or friendship dissolved soon after, I think she blamed herself for taking me to the party. It didn’t bother me too much though; we were never the closest and I sometimes thought her to be extremely annoying. An endless stream of shitty boyfriends that she only acquired so she could further repress her sexuality. When we were 14 we kissed at a sleepover and she admitted she was in love with me. I felt bad for not returning the feeling and our relationship had been on rocky territory ever since. I don’t understand how she thought she was in love with me since she barely knew anything about me, but either way she never brought it up again and soon after the monsoon of boytoys had begun.

           My brother’s friends and ex-girlfriends also attended the event. I didn’t approach any of them, far too scared they’d blame me for the death of their friend. One of them, Alex, went up to me to say how sorry he was about everything that happened. He was crying quite heavily (I later found out he was the friend Ray had been drinking with and the second last person to see him alive) and I could smell alcohol on his breath. I stood there while he spoke, telling me about how great my brother was as if I was wholly unaware. Body waving side to side as he stood with his hand on the wall beside me. He offered me some bronze liquid in a flask, and I obliged, savouring the burning sensation that followed in my throat. Alex’s voice was steady and deep, reminding me of my father’s. I’m not sure how long we stood there, him spinning a fantastic web of anecdotes and stories about my brother, some entirely new to my ears. We passed the beverage back and fourth until it was empty. My head felt lighter and heavier somehow simultaneously, and I found it much easier to listen to Alex talk. Later he tried to kiss me in my bedroom during the wake. His mouth was sour, and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. I wondered how he was able to talk so much without it getting in the way.

             We moved in procession to the cemetery after the service. The grass was a vibrant green colour, and I didn’t understand how the world kept turning after Ray’s death, for mine stopped the moment his heart failed to beat. The sky was a lovely shade of cyan-blue, with clouds so perfect they seemed animated. Pink carnations were planted near the outskirts of the yard and I could smell spring in the air; a heavy, floral aroma that never failed to comfort me. I thought it should be raining, it felt inappropriate that the weather refused to match my despair. My mind wandered as we approached the empty grave and I considered what it would be like if Ray was here beside me. He’d probably be making jokes, telling me to lighten up for a minute or my face would get stuck that way. He’d mock my silence, saying how I never managed to shut up for a minute before but suddenly I'm as proper as a nun. I'd smile, ruffling his hair to piss him off and try to refrain from laughing aloud. The absence of him only felt stronger as I imagined this scenario, so I shoved it out of my head.

           The casket was lowered into the ground, my father was a pallbearer and I often think about how he must’ve felt carrying his son’s body before watching him being buried. My mother sobbed loudly which annoyed me, it felt a bit exaggerated. I had a few tears falling from my eyes but mostly, I just felt numb. Incredibly and absolutely empty inside. To onlookers it may have seemed as though we weren’t very close, my reaction being similar to that of his ex-girlfriends’. However, this didn’t account for the loss of my voice, or the broken state I was in mentally. Maybe it was better that my reaction was rather dulled. It meant people didn’t feel the need to approach me as they did my mother. Less concerned given she was the one playing up her emotions to the point of embarrassment. My father cried, more than I but far less than my mother. He didn’t cry very often – I'd actually only seen it once prior to the whole event – and I figured he probably needed it. At this point I felt as though I'd shed enough tears to last a lifetime so Ray wouldn’t mind if I was a bit subdued in comparison. He never was a crier anyways.

           As I sprinkled soil onto his casket I imagined he was right beside me, watching, ready to criticize as usual. The dirt stained my hand, clutching the sweat and turning my skin a muddy brown colour. As I wiped the dirt on my jacket I could hear him nagging about how I better go wash my hands, what was I, a six-year-old? He was in denial about me growing up and took every chance to remind me I was still just a kid. Not that he had much on me, but I enjoyed it. I never was one to shy away from attention; at least not before. Little quirks and inside jokes between us were always some of my favourite things, the type of humour you could only get from living with someone your whole life. No matter how much his memory will fade there are some things I can’t let myself forget. His mocking tone when he’d make fun of me is one of those things. If I ever managed to let go of that sound then I must be dead as well.

           The sun beat down on my back, my skin burning in my black clothes. I wasn’t sweating yet, but most of the men around were – suit jackets aren’t exactly known for their breathability. My nose was dry and aching red, sore from how much I'd been wiping it the last couple days. Still the sweet seeping tinge of flowers and spring managed to crawl into my nose, settling underneath my skin, the buzzing from before had returned, I could feel my heartbeat loudly in my throat and had the desperate urge to just run. Instead, I just followed the rest of the party, sitting down in the passenger seat of my dad’s car. The silence that settled over us was uncomfortable and stale. He turned on the radio, Led Zeppelin filled the air around us, thankfully relieving some of the tension. I felt in my left pocket for one of the carnations I’d picked from a nearby grave earlier. The flower had begun to wilt, heat taking effect on its delicate composition. When I got home I put it in between the pages of my oldest copy of Romeo and Juliet. Ray would have found it funny if he was around to see.

The drive to my mother’s house was short and minimally awkward. We sat in silence – aside from the music – only because there was no alternative. My hand remained clutched around the dying flower in my pocket as we left the car and entered the home. Other people had already arrived, clustered in the living room, picking at tiny ham sandwiches and various desserts my mother had undoubtedly stress-baked the day before. I wasn’t hungry so I sat as far away from the food and people as humanely possible while staying in the living room, not wishing to hear my mother’s scolding about how I need to socialize more. Eventually I managed to slip away into my old bedroom, where Alex was sitting on my bed drinking a mickey of Smirnoff I assumed he swiped from my mother’s freezer. He offered it to me, and I accepted, the weird repetitive déjà vu like act, mirroring earlier and making the whole day feel like somewhat of a dream.

When I went over this part with Barb she always felt the need to emphasize that it wasn’t a dream. I knew this, obviously, which I told her every time, but she was inclined to disbelief when it came to my denial over my brother’s death. “Begonia, you must realize he’s gone. Dwelling is helping nobody, especially not you. This isn’t a healthy mindset for you to have. Always comparing living to your dreams. I want you to tell me you understand this isn’t just some dream you can wake up from.” The first time she said that to me I was thrust into a bout of wordlessness, as it struck a bit too close to home. The next time she brought it up I just told her of course, though even now I still cannot say I fully understand. How can I when all of my assumptions have been constantly disproven time and time again. How can I ever say this isn’t a dream when I'm not even sure I'm real? James always tries to reassure me, “Bee, I'm telling you, if you can feel this beat, the pulse in your wrist, your neck, your chest, you are alive,” he’ll say while pressing my hand to my wrist, but we both know it isn’t that simple.

Me and Alex made out for a few minutes until I managed to excuse myself. He was a bad kisser and tasted disgusting. I left him sitting on my old bed while I went downstairs to find my dad. He was sitting at the counter with a can of root beer, blank expression sat upon his face. When his eyes met mine he sighed, grabbing his keys out of his pocket. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be here, for numerous reasons, so we left. And if the radio stayed off as we drove home we didn’t acknowledge the silence that time. In my hand was the crumpled carnation, and for some reason it made my chest hurt. A deep ache of dread. I could feel my heartbeat, hear it over the drum of the car engine, and I crushed the flower further. I was careful not to rip it though, as if that was crossing some kind of invisible line my mind had set for me. My fingers felt waxy when I finally let go.

Back home, I opened the copy of Romeo and Juliet. I retrieved the deteriorating plant from my pocket and placed it in the center. Closing the book, I stacked it under a few dictionaries, a magazine under it so it was trapped on either side. I sat down in front of it and cried. Not the huge gasping sobs my mother seemed to fancy, nor the quiet weeping of my father. No, I cried the tears of a child who just found out their grandparents died, the soft uncomprehending grief that overcame them as they first learned what death really meant. How long forever was. My legs pulled up to my chest, hands loosely hung around knees, unable to clasp together because of my cast. I closed my eyes and I swear I could hear the sound of Ray sighing behind me, but when I opened my eyes I was alone. I went to bed, earlier than I ever had in my life, still believing it was a dream and I'd wake up like Alice after her adventures in Wonderland. But when I awoke, I was met with the slow, oozing perdure of my reality. The one which I could not wake up from, and the one where my brother was dead.

[augmented-beauty]

That didn’t stop you before

Did I just miracolously got a piece for Fictober done? Did my hiatus finally end? Let’s hope so ‘cause I’m sick of it. 

Summary: AU where things go a bit differently and Adam and Alex end up being together back in Detroit already. Happens before the events of Human Revolution, but Adam is already working for Sarif. Alex comes back home after her usual shift at DPD in a bad mood, and Adam is right here to help.

Prompt numer 4

Fandom: Deus Ex 

Relationships: Adam Jensen/OC (Alexandra Montgomery)

Rating: normal/general

Warning: none, just some light swearing

Word count: 1436

Adam and Alexandra being cute as hell and domestic fluff under the cut

You can also find this on AO3. 

I didn't think people could surprise me anymore in their ignorance, but I was clearly wrong. I'm so grateful my shift is over for today because I can't bear with some colleagues' bullshit anymore. I get ready to head back home as fast as I can, storming out of the locker room and heading towards the parking lot where I left my motorbike this morning. I put my belongings in the trunk and then the helmet on my head, get on the saddle and start the engine. Luckily, it's not a long ride, I only need to go and buy some fresh ingredients for dinner before heading back to the flat I share with Adam. I do my groceries shopping as fast as I can, and something like half an hour later after leaving the locker room, I'm finally home.

"I'm back, cariño!" I call out for Adam, even though he probably heard me already.

"Hi, sweetheart!" he greets back from the bedroom.

As always, I barely have time to close the door before Kubrik rushes towards me to say hello, wagging his tail at the speed of light. This good boy always manages to make me smile, at least a little bit, no matter how pissed I am. Tonight is no exception, but I'm pretty sure my bad mood is still evident. I make a left to leave the shopping bag on the kitchen counter before venturing further into the flat. The classy, glass table Adam picked for the entrance always comes to my aid, and I leave my purse and helmet there. I properly greet Kubrik while climbing down the stairs, and I can already feel a bit of tension melting away from my body. Hearing Adam's footsteps as he comes out of the bedroom and walks towards me only makes it better. I look at him and meet him halfway, snaking my arms around his neck as he bends down a bit to give me our usual 'welcome back home' kiss, while his hands go to my waist. It might be a habit, but we cherish it deeply, and never get tired of it.

"Been home long?" I ask him, still not letting go, face still quite close to his.

"Some minutes. Just had the time for a shower and to get cosier."

I hum in approval, taking in his features. "Love that sweater on you." I reach for another kiss, savouring it in its briefness.

"How was work?"

My only direct answer is a groan "You first."

"Not bad, pretty tranquil, actually."

"Glad to hear that at least your day was better. Some people can only seem to be so fucking annoying, ugh."

"How about I get everything you need to cook today ready for the use while you get cosier too?"

Sounds wonderful" I give him a peck on those perfect lips of his before letting him go "Thanks, babe."  

Heading into the bedroom, I change into a pair of leggings and one of Adam's baseball hoodies and then go take my make up off. Those small gestures are already helping a lot, and borrowing his hoodie once again was definitely a good idea. It smells like him, so, like home, somehow. Heading back to the living room and making my way to the kitchen, I notice how he also put on some lofi music, knowing damn well how much I like when I need to relax. Seeing me in his hoodie makes him give me a little smile and kiss my temple most sweetly.

"Want me to help you with that?"

"No, don't worry. I don't mind the cooking, and you've done enough already. Thank you for asking, though."

"You're welcome, beautiful." I give him a kiss on the cheek before getting started with the chopping of the veggies. While I do so, Adam wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder gently. "Ready for your vent if you feel like it."

I sigh in frustration, ready to spill everything in hope to finally feel better for good, at least for now. "It's just...I might not be heavily augmented, but I still get so pissed when I hear bullshit about us. I just wanted to have a small break at the cafeteria in peace, you know, the time for a coffee. I get there to do that, and I can only hear some other cops I don't know that good saying nonsense. I tried saying something, but I got too pissed and just left with my cup in hand. I don't even know what had them starting, maybe there's an augmented rookie or something. The only thing I know is that they were saying how our life is much easier as our implants give us advantages in the workplace and shit like that. I couldn't help but feel called out, you know. How can they be so blind and don't realise that most of the time we don't even ask for our augs? It's not like we choose to be born with a genetical disease or to lose a limb or an organ! The post-surgical period is painful most of the times, and the eventual rehab is everything but easy. Don't even get me started on the life-long need for nu-poz. Sure, I'm lucky, I don't need heavy prescriptions, but many others are not that blessed, and the side effects for higher doses are terrible."

"Not to mention all the slur directed at you and the exploitation that occurs at times. And forced augmentation."

"Yeah, but go tell them that! Do they really think it's funny and easy to be augmented? We get discriminated, sometimes treated like we weren't human at all, and for what? For a fucking prosthesis? Sure, they're more sophisticated than in the past, but have been existing for decades now!" I fall silent for a brief moment, putting words and ideas together. "It's not the eye augmentation that makes me good at shooting, it's my skill, and all the training I went through! Just because someone has an augmented limb or whatever doesn't mean that they're automatically good at their job, it's more complex than that!"

"Everyone can be good at what they do, doesn't matter if they're augmented or not. Sure, for example, augmented people might be able to do manual labour more swiftly than someone who's not, but it's not like they don't need extra tools or don't make mistakes. Augs are not the problem, greed and ignorance are and augmented people are not to blame for this. In the end, we're all victims somehow."

"Exactly! And I've tried to tell them in fewer words, but anti-augs are so fucking stubborn."

"That didn't stop you before." I can hear the proud smile on his face by how he sounds, but I'm still a bit puzzled. "People might be stubborn, but you always find a way to successfully be heard. Sometimes you manage to educate people, and if they're too ignorant to learn something, at least you roast them as they deserve. So yeah, maybe you didn't shut them up today, but I'm sure next time they'll be talking shit, they might end up learning something. And if they're hopeless, they'll get what they deserve."

I stop in my tracks, putting the knife down and turning my head a little so that I can look at him. My fingers intertwine with his, and his thumb gently caresses my skin as I get lost in his eyes, noses lightly touching. "The world would be a better place if there were more people like you."

"Could say the same about you."

I can only smile at his sweetness and sincere admiration, feeling way better. I lean closer to him a bit for yet another sweet kiss of his, so full of love and care. "Gracias, mi amor. Me haces tan feliz."

Adam doesn't let go of me as I keep on cooking, and the only thing that changes is the subject. We keep on talking while I cook, and he makes me laugh, still with his chin gently resting on my shoulder, only moving to occasionally plant a delicate kiss on my skin. Even after dining, that's how the night rolls. It's all about gentle touches, heartfelt laughs and the mutual enjoyment of each other's presence, with Kubrik laying down near us in the living room. Doesn't matter how harsh the world is towards me sometimes, once I open the door to our home, that's all my life it's about. If someone asked me to picture Heaven, that's what I'd describe them.

[joonyverse]

residency troubles - kim namjoon (bts)

Summary: You were a resident in her 3rd year at a prestigious hospital, who happened to be the daughter of the director of said hospital, and had a little bit dark past. Professor Kim was a neurosurgeon, who came to the States, but decided to come back, and work for the hospital you were at. And then one occurrence lead to another.

Warning: abusive parent figure, family problems, violence, minor character’s death, childhood trauma, infidelity, light smut scene (not reader’s), grammar mistakes, incorrect medical terms, failing english

word count: 10.8K

kim namjoon x f! readers

doctor!au

Sound of ECG being the only sound that you could register, amidst the layers of yells being thrown at you, or your surrounding. The rapid sound the machine made, indicating how the person on the bed was unstable. Having been pushed aside, you could only watch, not knowing what to do anymore. You saw the doctor giving the patient CPR, sweats running down his face, as he fight for the life that literally depending on his hand. You could only wish miracle upon the sky. 

But then, just like how the sky granted your wishes, the ECG sound was back to normal. Heart rate continue to beat stable, and gradually getting steady. The doctor stepped aside, before he wipes the precipitation on his face, from the energy he spent trying to save a life. He glare into your way. His glare was cold. Shivers running down your spine. It’s like a bucket of cold water had been poured over you. You gulped down, and quietly follow him into a space where no patients were in vicinity.

This was the calm before the storm.

“Are you even a doctor?” He asked. His voice was cold and distant. It feels like the alcohol swab that you use before getting pricked by a needle.

You looked down, only able to stare at your feet. You knew it was your fault. Your fault here could be someone else’s life being endangered. And you should have known better. It’s not like it was your first year. And you acted like a complete intern.

“I’m sorry doc, it won’t happen again” you said.

“Yeah, because when you did it again, a patient would die!” He yelled the last part at your face. You flinched a little bit at the sudden raise of voice.

“I’m sorry doc” you said, your voice sounds even more inaudible if it was even possible.

“God y.n, you’re fucking clumsy! How could you even get into residency? I wonder… Daddy’s money?” He said in a belittling voice.

You gulped down. You want to fight back, but you can’t. His aura was way too overbearing and powerful for you to beat.

“You can’t do a single thing right! Nothing! You keep making rookie mistakes!” He yelled. “That patient, he was allergic to your prescription, and he could have DIED! But no, you ignore the chart, and act like a know it all!” He yelled once again. And you took it like a big girl, holding your tears in. Was it because of the yell? Or was it because you almost cost someone’s life? You didn’t know anymore.

“Fix it, another one rookie mistake, and you are over” he reprimanded before he left you alone with your thoughts.

You solemnly walk towards the office room, sitting on your reserved desk. You lean back into the back of the arm chair. You let out a sigh, feeling like a heavy burden in your chest was lifted. You quickly wiped your tears that threatened to fall. You shook your head.

“That was stupid mistake” you mumble to yourself. “You were an idiot pretending to be a know it all” you continued,

Your train of thoughts were being cut off as the sound of door opening filling the room. You looked towards the source of disturbance, seeing your friend who was in a no better shape walking in. Just like you, she plopped onto her armchair, energy drained from her soul.

She rolled her armchair towards yours. She put her hand into her scrubs pocket as she fished for something. She pulled out a banana milk and handed it towards you. You take it with a grumble, signing that you indeed need some sugar right now, 

“God, you’re still here?” Jiwoo asked as she take a sip of her strawberry milk.

You nodded with a pout on your face as you took a sip of the banana milk Jiwoo so kindly gave. “Professor Park needs me to do some errand last night so I couldn’t go home, and then when I knew it, it’s already morning! And then there plenty of emergency cases I need to handle, and then… Doctor Yoo yelled at me” you said. Your voice was solemn. Your eyes were looking down. Exhaustion was evident in your demeanour alone.

“Is it because of Minwoo? The seven year old kid?” Jiwoo asked to which you responded with a nod.

Jiwoo suddenly bend down to look at your face better. “God, I was damn tired, and then I see your face and I immediately feel better” she said.

You looked up, you gave her a cheeky smile. “Why? Because I’m a doctor and I’m pretty?” You said as you put your palm into a flower pose.

Jiwoo scrunched her nose. “No, because it looks so apparent you just got dragged into hell and your eyebags are competing with pandas’” she said. “Just go home y.n, it’s not even healthy anymore” she added.

“I can’t, I’m going to assist Professor Park’s surgery, and maybe after that, I’ll be able to go home” you said, your frown became more apparent.

Jiwoo got up from her seat before she gave you a pat on your head. “Good luck, and I better not see you here after my surgery is over!” She said.

“Whose surgery are you assisting?” You asked before she walked out.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Professor Lee’s.”

Sound of ECG once again rang through your ears. It’s drumming inside your very being to the point you swore you can hear it in your silence mind. The tension was high inside this operation room. Your heart was drumming inside your chest.

“Suction” Professor Park asked, You quietly handed him the suction.

You prayed to all Gods above that this too shall be saved. He deserves another life. You knew that better than anyone here. Well maybe, other than Professor Park himself. God, he was just seven year old, there’s so many things he needs to see, he needs to be, and you want to save him more than anything else.

“Professor, he’s losing a lot of blood, he’s unstable” the anaesthesiologist said.

You can see Professor Park’s brows furrowed, as he was getting even more focused if that was even possible. You saw him getting even more frustrated but he keep composed.

Suddenly the heart rate picks up. Your head snapped towards the ECG, like an instinct. “Professor-“

“I know, y.n, I know” he cut you off. You can feel his frustration and desperation in his voice. You grew antsy and anxious. And yet you held it in. You might get kicked out if you show signs of such things and that’d be the least thing you want.

You can see that the anaesthesiologist getting even more anxious. And that really didn’t help you calm down in any way. You knew this was bad. When the professor did all the right thing, but the patient keeps being unstable, you knew this was bad. You knew Professor Park done all the best he could, and yet you knew the boy wasn’t going to make it. In fact, everyone in the room knew that. But everyone, gave their best till the very end. 

Until the sound of flat line hit your ear drums.

You grew motionless. 

But Professor Park wasn’t one to give up. He kept trying to revive the kid. Wanting to give him the last chance he could get.

But the universe wants him back. They love him more. 

And so you watch as the kid lay there on his death bed, motionless, no heart activity. Everyone in the room hung their heads low. Everyone tried their best, but fate says it’s time for him to go. 

It’s the thought that the kid was so young. So fragile. So small in this big world. So many for him to explore… and they took that away from him.

“Time of death, 12th of May 2020, 10:25” Professor Park announced.

The operation room was solemn. And you quietly close him up. You move your emotion aside, as you carefully close him up, not wanting him to hurting despite his inability to feel.

As soon as you were out of the room, you were walking like a corpse, too many thoughts went pass your head. And yet you can’t think of a specific one. You should have gotten used to patients’ death, and yet you don’t. Every each one still hits you hard. Watching someone’s life depended on you and yet they still losing grasp, it’s always hurts, it’s always feel you’ve failed them each time, despite you knowing that there’s nothing you can do.

You walk back towards your office. Your head hung low. Tears were brimming in your eyes. Your chest was heavy and painful. The kid deserves so much more. And it hits you like brick. You don’t even want to imagine how the mother must be feeling if you were feeling this way. Memories of how you played around with him, laugh with him, giving him encouragements and comforts, as he went through his time in the hospital, flashes by you. You wiped the tears that had fallen down as you continue to made your way back into your office to pack and clocked out.

You entered the passcode into your digital lock, your emotion and energy were as drained as ever. You sighed as you entered your apartment. You threw your bag carelessly as you walked into your kitchen. You reached for a glass to pour yourself some water. The water did somewhat its work on soothing your heart that was in agony. But you were tired. You want nothing but to sobs into your pillow.

You looked into the couch in the living room. Your boyfriend’s shirt was there, and you for a moment wonder. The weather was cold and your boyfriend… felt hot?

Suspicion immediately filling your head. You brace yourself for whatever behind the door of your shared bedroom. You brace yourself for another heartbreak.

And then you heard it,

“Seokjin, please don’t stop- ah- fuck, please don’t stop!” A girl, who certainly wasn’t you cried out.

You were beyond mortified. Your eyes widened. You were disgusted beyond anything as you very well know what’s going on behind the door.

You opened the door roughly, it bang to the frame. You saw them, on your bed. Your Bed. Your boyfriend on top of her, having his balls deep into her. You were hurt, betrayed, but most of all, you were livid. You were furious above all.

But both of them wasn’t any better. They both looked at you, flustered, that you caught them red handed. You scoffed at the sight.

“I should have expected that” you said. Your voice was rather calm. But anyone who heard that, and see how you shook on your ground, knows that this was the calm before the storm.

You saw your boyfriend moved to reach out to you. The girl beneath him whimpered as he moved. You immediately feel waves of disgusts all over your body, drowning you in it.

“Just fucking finished your thing, and pack your things after that” you said before you step out of the room, not bothering to even close the door.

Seokjin finally pulled out and stepped onto the floor, racing towards you.

He grabbed a hold of your hand that you roughly tossed. 

“You are filthy, so please don’t touch me” you said, your voice who usually full of warmness for him, now cold and full of venom.

Seokjin knew he messed up. He never sees you like this, but then again there was a first for everything. You were usually cheerful, bubbly, your voice held such warmth that makes anyone that come across you wants to be by you all the time, no doubt. 

“Please listen-“

“Listen to what Kim Seokjin? I saw it all! You were spared on the need to explain!” You yelled. Your composure was failing and you don’t have the intention to keep it.

He stayed silent, he knew there was nothing to explain, when you saw it all. And you knew that too.

“Just fucking go okay? Spare me from the pain, I’ve had enough for today, and it’s barely midday! I already have a poor kid died on me only to go home to see my boyfriend fucking his other lover, so please just go” you said as you took a seat on your couch. Your arms were over your eyes, you wanted nothing but to cry… and cry even more.

Seokjin was concerned above all. He was your friend at some point. He knew how hard you took patients’ death, and he clearly was the cherry on top.

He slowly made his way back to fix his mess before them both leave you alone, in your misery  and tears.

A month had passed since then. Everything moved so fast when you focused solely on work and nothing else. Jiwoo would call you a horse for working day and night, not letting anything getting in your way. You keep shoving your nose up the job, working like a robot would do, that even Professor Park teased you for being one.

Your days would be fill of helping Professor Park handling the patients. Giving commands to the fellow residents that was below your year. Running from one hall to another. Death was almost become something numbing to you. Almost.

And yet everyday, people around you keep reminding you that you were human first before anything else. You worked hard, wanting to be recognised for your hard work and your hard work only. You forgot to have fun, Jiwoo said.

It’s not easy. To be the daughter of the director of the hospital itself. Everyone think that you are able to get your place because of your connection. Because daddy is paying everyone’s pay-check. And so you worked hard everyday, trying to prove yourself, that you deserving of your place there.

How can people accuse you of such things when your dad was trying so hard to forget about you when it comes down to family…

Jiwoo would stop you everyday from working yourself over the limit. So does Professor Park. They would both stopped you from taking everyone’s shift, from staying at the hospital any longer than you’re supposed to.

But it’s hard to convince you when you’re so set on something.

It was lunch time. Both you and Jiwoo use it to quickly get some lunch before any calls can get to you both. Especially when the cafeteria is serving your favourite curry that day. Jiwoo would secretly convince the chefs there to just make curry everyday so you would leave your work and eat more enthusiastically, but of course she wasn’t able to convince them.

You were enjoying the curry to your heart content. It’s the littlest thing like this that reminds you that you were indeed human above all, as dramatic as it sounds. Jiwoo watched you with amusement.

“I tried so hard to be a good friend, and you still choose curry over me” Jiwoo said in fake annoyance. She playfully stab the potato in anger.

You swallowed your food with a smile on your face, as you looked up at her. “Curry heals my heart Jiwoo, this is not just any curry, this is magical curry” you said In a teasing manner which caused Jiwoo to scoffed.

And then suddenly Jiwoo sat straighter, fixing her posture. Her eyes widening. Seeming more tense than before. You slowed your eating pace in confusion. Your eyes scanning your surrounding, which seemingly collectively has their focus on one point.

You turned your head towards said point. Your eyes squinting, your brain going into even more confusion than before. You even scratch your eyes repeatedly to make sure that your eyes aren’t playing you, and yet the sight still was as shocking as ever.

Your ever, so arrogant, and what the workers would say, intimidating, father was there. In the cafeteria. That you swore he would swear he would never touch, not even the ground. You almost throw your curry at him if it was possible.

There was a man beside him. A handsome and young looking one. He was tall, his brown hair slicked back. He looked as clean as ever. A glasses sitting on top of his nose bridge. He looks smart, brilliant even. Well he must be, seeing him walking side by side with the director of the prestigious hospital. To sum it up, he was the finest man you’ve ever seen to walk in this hospital, he was a sight to see for sore eyes.

But you quickly shook the thought out of your head. You quickly turning back towards your food. As you see from your peripheral view that everyone around you, including Jiwoo stood from their seat to give them a bow before they sat back down. And suddenly the cafeteria was somewhat quieter than before. You hated it.

“What an asshole” you muttered under your breathe. You then felt a kick on your foot. You looked up towards Jiwoo who was still standing, and now her eyes are spatting curses at you.

“What?” You mouthed in annoyance.

“Stand up” Jiwoo mouthed back before she kicked your foot once again. You rolled your eyes and give in to her request.

You turned around. You saw that your father and the man beside him… and whoever walked along with them have their focus on you. You suspected that it was because your father was staring at you, wanting the respect he deemed to be deserving. You sighed and gave them a half hearted bow before you sat back down and continue to eat your food. You felt bad because you didn’t mean to be rude to anyone but your father.

That was until suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder, that stopped you from eating. The cold but yet so familiar touch on your shoulder. You sighed and turned your head towards the intruder of your meal.

“This is y.n, my daughter, she is a resident here, she worked for Professor Park, your friend right?” Your father said, smile was on his face. But you know so well this was the smile he uses on someone he’s trying to impresses.

“Ah yes, he is my friend… Jimin” The handsome young man said with a smile. His voice was so deep, you swore you could drawn in it.

“Y.n, this is Professor Kim, a neurosurgeon from the States! He’ll be working with us, greet him” Your father said with a smile ever so radiant, you almost puke. 

You faked a smile back at him, playing your good daughter card on. Jiwoo looked at the both of you nervously.

“Nice to meet you, I’m y.n, a resident in the general surgery department” you introduced yourself, with a smile more genuine at Professor Kim.

Your father patted your shoulder again. “Right, good, about our dinner later tonight, y.n, I hope you’ll be able to make it” your father said to the both of you. “You have no shift tonight, right y.n?” you father asked.

“No sir, y.n is free for tonight” Jiwoo cut in before you were able to say a word out of your mouth, “I’ll make sure she’ll make it on time” she added.

You mentally slapped your forehead. And god you thought you couldn’t loathe the situation any further.

“Right, thank you Jiwoo” your father said to Jiwoo before he walked away.

You threw your spoon lightly on the table once they’re out of sight. You sighed in full annoyance now. “Why would you do that?!” You whisper-yelled at Jiwoo.

Jiwoo gave you a cheeky smile in return. You really wish you could get angry at her really. “So miss y.l.n here won’t work herself to death, and able to dine in with the most handsome and smartest man ever to walk in this earth” Jiwoo said, her smile was faking innocence.

You gasped, feeling scandalous, feeling like Jiwoo had just seen you naked, seen through you. “Jiwoo!” You gasped.

“What? It’s true! I can swear upon my life you were ogling the professor! Undressing him straight with your eyes!” She said between laughter, as she accused you.

You whined at her. “Oh come on! I was not okay!” You said, threatening to throw your spoon towards her head.

“Oh come on! My girl deserves to have some fun and love too!” Jiwoo teased. And then she suddenly lean in and looked you straight in the eyes. “Especially with the neurosurgeon professor that’s known for being so smart, is popular at the States, handsome, deep voice, and your father trying to impress” she said, her voice was loud enough only to be heard by you.

Your eyes widened, it’s almost like you got possessed and suddenly the picture of the professor being said infiltrated your mind. Him standing there, looking so fine, with his smile and dimples. But before your thought can get any further, a loud voice cut you off from your training thought. 

“You guys are seemingly having fun! Without me! I don’t like it!” Jimin said, shocking both you and Jiwoo, before he sat down beside you.

“Professor, y.n here is going to go out on a date!” Jiwoo said before laughter making its way once again to her.

“A date?!” Jimin shrieked. “My god, finally you blessed this desert with some water to survive from! Y.n is going on a date!” He said.

You now physically slapped your forehead. You can see some people gave your table a stare for a second before going back to eat again.

“How can it be a date when, one, I just met him today, and two, the dinner has my father in the variable” you grumbled before you roughly stabbed a potato and fed it into your mouth.

“Wait… does it mean… it’s Namjoon?!” Jimin once again, leaning closer towards you. Your eyes widened once again. Who now?

“Professor Kim! Kim Namjoon!” Jimin said, after seeing the confusion in your face. You shrieked at the name, almost jumped in to cover his mouth. You don’t want another rumour surrounding you. Now you remember that Professor Kim had mentioned Jimin as his friend before.

“Oh my god, y.n, I swear he’s nice! And he’s single… well as far as I know, but I can totally introduce you to him!” Jimin said with so much enthusiasm, people would think he’s the one that’s going to be introduced to someone.

“You know what? I’m done eating lunch, Jiwoo, Jimin, you can chat, but I’m going now” You said in a flustered state, causing Jiwoo to teased you even further. 

The clock shows 5pm. Everyone around you is hurrying you to go home, put some makeup on, and clean up. It was mostly Jiwoo who urged you to do so, she even go as the length of promising to drive you there and back. Jimin even told you to clock out as soon as you can. You swore you would rather spent more time in the operating room then go through the dinner. You whined in protest, but what can you do when it’s you versus everyone?

And so there you were, finding yourself rummaging through your wardrobe that you’ve been so long abandoned ever since you start pulling lots of night shift. That you don’t bother to touch ever since you opted to watch Netflix at home is more fun than going out for some fun Friday nights. 

You ended up choosing a formal white dress. It fits prettily on you and just right, accentuate your features so nicely. You chose a baby pink Saint Laurent purse to go with it, knowing it looks cute and beside, you haven’t use it in forever. A pair of black rockstud caged pump from Valentino completing your outfit of the night. You applied some light makeup too. You had to admit that it was somewhat a personal satisfactory and pleasure to clean up like this, something that you haven’t done in so long.

As soon as you stepped out of your room into the living room, Jiwoo who was waiting there had her eyes on you, mouth agape. You rubbed your sides instinctually, feeling somewhat self-conscious.

“Does it looks weird? God it’s been so long since I did this, I maybe forgot my touch-“

“Cut the nonsense! You look as stunning as ever!” Jiwoo said as she approached you. You gave her a thankful smile.

“You know how much I hate going to a dinner, god, I’m only doing this for you” you said to her as you both walked towards her car that was parked in the basement.

“Girl, you’re going to thank me once you start getting some” Jiwoo said, a teasing smile on her face.

~~~

A car ride later, you found yourself standing by the entrance of this fancy Italian restaurant. You gulped down, wanting to turn back and secretly catch a cab and go back home. It’s not that you are nervous, you just hate to be in the same room as your father. Let alone eat on the same table.

You just hoped nothing will gone awry. And that means you have to control your emotion, keep it at the bay.

The last time you ate with your father, it was… horrible to say the least. You ended the night with your blood pressure as high as ever, food shattered on the ground, his wife crying and begging for you both to stop, your half-brother is smirking at the situation.

With a reassuring sigh, you braved yourself and enter the restaurant, bracing anything that might come at you,

You gave your name to the waitress, before being escort to the private section of the restaurant. She carefully and delicately open the ebony wood door, revealing the occupants inside. You saw a table for five, there sat your father, his wife, or rather, your stepmother, and your half-brother

Your father sat at the centre of the table. His wife sat on his right, her son sitting beside her. You saw that the seat beside you was still empty. The seat was probably for Professor Kim you figured.. Not long before you enter the room, Professor Kim arrived following suit, seemingly a little bit out of breath.

You tapped on his shoulder, making him look at you. You smiled at him, chuckling inside at his seemingly in-hurry state. “Are you okay?” You asked him softly.

Professor Kim took a big gasp of air before answering you. “Yep, all fine” he said with a smile, his dimples appeared once again, as deep as ever.

You both entered the room. And you saw how your father’s smile lit up once again. You almost rolled your eyes at the situation. If any people see this, they would have thought that this was some ordinary family dinner. Maybe even Professor Kim thought so. But your so called family know that this all business matter.

The waitress took your order as soon as you and Professor Kim sat down. You ordered a truffle cream pasta for yourself, meanwhile he ordered an Aglio Olio for him, both of you opting for some ice tea for the beverage.

Your father cut into the steak that had been served before him as he arrived sooner than both of you. The professor beside you cut the silence by apologising, “I’m sorry, I’m a little bit late, I had a patient that need to be look out for in urgent” he said.

“It’s okay, he wouldn’t mind Professor Kim” you said before your father even said a word. You can feel your father was giving you a glare as in ‘Behave’, but it’s not like you’re going to care about any of his words nor actions.

“Please, just call me Namjoon, I’m more comfortable that way” Namjoon said to everyone in the room. “I am still young after all, just a little bit older than y.n here” he said. You had to admit, it seems like he did his research beforehand, as he knew how old you were. Somewhere deep in the back of your mind, you wondered if Jimin told him some things about you.

“You are a polite kid, a smart one on top of that, and I’ve heard your activity in non-profit organisations Namjoon, you’re just a complete package aren’t your?” Your father’s wife said, a giggle followed after her words. You shook your head in silent.

“Ah… I’m not ma’am” Namjoon said, looking flustered. You can only imagine. The man was looking so red you almost felt bad. But then again, you saw his features, and you realised, the man was deserving of every compliments he got. A handsome man, with good personality? God you were somewhat hoping he’d be single. But you continue to eat your food in silence.

Your family continue to chat with Namjoon even after the table being emptied. You stayed silent, not wanting to say a word, not wanting to cause a fight, too tired of it or to do it. But you can see from under the table that Namjoon’s legs were fidgeting, like he’s trying to say something but don’t know how. And then you faintly heard it, the buzzing from his trousers’ pocket. You realised that this might be a medical call. And so you decided to save him and utter a word.

“I’m sorry father, Namjoon and I have to go back to the hospital right now” you said, standing up, not before nudging Namjoon, signalling for him to do so too. 

Your father looked towards Namjoon, his head tilted a little bit. “Is that so? You should go then, your patients are important” your father said.

And it seems like Namjoon had read the situation too. He gave your father a quick nod and bow. “I’ll get going then sir” he said, before you both headed out of the room.

As soon as you’re both out of the room, Namjoon quickly answered his call. You saw him tensed up, which meaning that it is an urgent situation, and he was probably needed as soon as possible. Before even you could even say a word, he walked in fast pace before turning into a light run towards his car, still on call.

You sighed and shook your head. At least the dinner didn’t go as bad as you thought it will. 

The next morning, you went to the office just like usual. Your outfit were so casual just like usual, in contrast to what you wore last night. Jiwoo shook her head after hearing the uneventful dinner when she drove you home. And of course as soon as you arrived in the hospital, the first thing Jimin asked you was about your dinner, to which you answered as it is. Jimin huffed in response, just like Jiwoo. 

It was one of those time where you get a room to breathe, after finishing a surgery. You were left alone in the office. You turn your head around, relieving the knots on your shoulder. You were sipping the warm coffee that you bought at the cafe downstairs when someone knock on your office before opening it. The door revealing a man that oh so familiar.

“Hey, what’s up?” You greeted with a smile that looks rather tired.

Upon seeing you, Namjoon proceed to enter the room, a relief smile on his face. “You were here!” He said, taking a seat next to you.

You chuckled at his words. “You weren’t here to see me” you said.

Namjoon lowered his head and chuckle along with you, being caught in action. “Well, I was searching for Jimin but he wasn’t here, and I found you instead” he shrugged.

“Hey! Seeing me is also a good thing okay!” You complained playfully. You made a fist and hit his side arm in a playful manner.

Namjoon pretended like you had hit him with the strength of a fighter which caused you to whine. “Come on! I didn’t hit you that hard!” You said.

“You bruised my ego!” He retaliated, which caused both of you to laugh. “Did you just finish a surgery?” He asked.

You nodded at him, a pout made its way onto your lips without you even noticing, a habit you didn’t notice you had. “I am” you said.

Namjoon stares at you, his eyes were unreadable, but honest to god, you were rather scared of trying to find out on what was his eyes were saying, and so you ignore it.

“Poor y.n, must be tiring right?” He said, in a tone that seemingly babying you. He suddenly put his hands on your shoulders and lightly massage them. You froze for a second upon feeling his palm on your shoulder, before you relax into his hold.

“What will poor father says if he saw his favourite neurosurgeon is giving a massage to a mere resident…” you said, your voice shaky from the massage.

Namjoon laughed at your words. “Oh come on! You are not just a mere resident” he said.

You gave him a smirk and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, a resident who happened to be the director of the hospital’s daughter” you added in.

Namjoon tensed, you can feel it on his hold, before he let go of you. Truth be told, you were rather disappointed that he let go, somewhere deep in the back of your mind, you were missing his warmth now that it feels somewhat cold without his touch.

“That’s not what I-“

“Namjoon? I’m just joking” you quick to assured with a smile.

Suddenly Namjoon turn his whole body at you, looking you dead serious right in your eyes, making you nervous in some way. “I mean it y.n, you are talented, Jimin told me a lot of good things about you, and I know you are a hard worker, and I’m not saying this because you are my boss’ daughter” he explained. “It’s because you care about the patients dearly, and you are a hard worker” he added.

You swore to god you teared up right there right then. For the first time in your medical career, it’s the first time anyone, beside Jimin or Jiwoo, praising you. Not because they want something from you, but they acknowledge you for who you are. You quickly shook the tears off, not wanting to be emotional. “Oh come on! This is unfair, you made me cry” you said jokingly.

“Your father must be proud of you” Namjoon said, unknowingly.

You chuckled bitterly. “I don’t expect much from him” you mutter under your breathe, hoping he wouldn’t caught it. You quickly stood from your seat, giving him a reassuring smile. “Gotta go though, Jimin is having a conference soon” you said.

Namjoon gave you a smile before he stood up too. He suddenly grabbed your hand, making you look back at him, stopping you dead on your track.

“Thank you for last night, you saved my patient”

It was another day. Just another uneventful day. Or so you thought. The yawn that you held for so long can’t help but came out of your mouth. Along with it, a drop of tear trickle down your cheek. Your eyes trained on the computer monitor before you. Your head heavy with thoughts.

The door to the office suddenly opened, making you looked up from the computer. In your head, you were groaning at the stiffness your body was experiencing. “Can I help you?” You asked to the visitor.

A familiar person walked into the room, creating a beam on your face, from ear to ear. Well to be exact, it’s more of what they brought.

“Jimin! My life saviour!” You squealed as you jumped from your seat. Jimin gave you a playful smile in return, while humming to a cheery tune. You immediately dragged your armchair onto the table that was set in the middle of the office, meant for meeting, and well, meals. Jimin took a seat at the centre of the table, while you took one beside him.

“God, it’s chinese?! You really know how to impress a woman don’t you?” You said as you grab a chopsticks and set your food in front of you, knowing that Jimin already know what your order was.

“Well, aren’t you my hardworking resident? Who unfortunately still pull an all-nighter and-“ “Stop with that! Won’t you?” You complained playfully to him. “I really restrain myself from taking night shift you know that!” You added.

“I know, but look at you, I can bet you haven’t gone home since last night” he said before he took a bite of his food.

You froze on your seat. The sense of time really had went out of your head. In your head, your hair is probably the big sign of it, looking like a whole bird nest. Your supposedly tidy pony tail, now so many strands had gone loose. “God, I didn’t know that” you sighed.

Jimin gave you a glare in responded, as in saying “How could you not know?”. His phone suddenly dinged, and so he took it from his pocket, looking at the notification. “Y.n, you don’t mind another company, do you?” Jimin suddenly asked.

You were having a bite of your food, so you really didn’t pay attention to his words. You wordlessly nodded at him, to engrossed on your food.

The door to the office once again opened. And yet you paid no attention, your hunger took over you. In your mind, you think that it’s probably Jiwoo, or well another surgeon. Another surgeon other than Jimin having a meal with you both wasn’t a new thing anyway.

“I’m sorry, I had an unscheduled appointment” A familiar deep honey-laced voice said. You stopped chewing, your eyes widened. You sat a little bit straighter, but not brave enough to look up. 

“It’s okay, you’re not late, I just have a bite of my food” Jimin said. You can see from your peripheral view that Jimin was staring at you with a teasing glare, his mouth formed a smirk. “But y.n here… she seemingly hasn’t eat since yesterday” Jimin huffed playfully.

Namjoon chuckled before he took a seat beside you. You gulped down your food, before staring at Jimin with a warning glare. “I’m so sorry you had to see me like this” you said to Namjoon who was arranging his food.

“Y.n, you’re talking like as if I don’t see you at that Italian restaurant, gulping down the food like as if you want to escape so badly” He said before he had a bite.

“Well, in a way, I kinda do actually, but don’t get me wrong, it was not because of you, like at all” You said after gulping down another bite of your food, After talking, you grabbed a bite once again. Maybe you were too focused on your food, or too focus trying to ignore the nervousness in your heart, but when Namjoon stopped to stare at you, with a fond smile on his face, you surely didn’t notice.

He almost chuckled, seeing you eat like there’s no tomorrow, like as if you stopped, someone would steal your food away from you. He looked at you with so much amusement and fondness. Your hair was everywhere, and he was a little bit worried it might bet into your mouth. He carefully reach his hand out towards you. His fingers gently reached for the loose strands that disturbing your eating and might be a little bit itchy on your face. He carefully tuck them behind your ears.

His fingertips touching your ears got you shivering down your spine. You froze on your eating, but seems like Namjoon didn’t notice that, too enticed by you. You weren’t brave enough to turn your head around. No, you weren’t. You don’t know what you should be expecting.

“Your hair was in the way” Namjoon said, his voice was gentle, almost inaudible, but loud enough for you to hear.

“T-thank you” you stuttered. In that moment, you braved yourself enough to turn your head at him. But what you saw, god you could swear your heart wasn’t prepare for it. Namjoon was smiling at you, his smile was just… something that you were more than sure was a gift from God. His dimples were evident. And truth to god, your heart was beating so fast you were sure the whole room can hear it.

Namjoon chuckled before he turn to his food once again, eating it. And everything went back to normal. By normal here you meant, Jimin and Namjoon were chatting about what they’re both missing when they were away. You silently listening in. And yet your heart was still beating loud, your head still full of the thought of him. If Jimin noticed, you were glad he said nothing.

And at one point, it seems like your name was mentioned, which was caught your attention back to the room. “I’m sorry?” You said.

“I just told Namjoon how you haven’t gone back home, and I think that you should go home now, and Namjoon will drive you home” Jimin said nonchalantly.

“Oh come on, you act like this is my first time doing this, I’ll be fine staying in the hospital a couple more hours, and beside I’m still reviewing-“ “A doctor also need lots of rest, y.n” Namjoon cut in.

“But-“

“No buts, pack your bag, you’re going home” Jimin said as he stood up. He immediately went to clean up the table, insisting on you to prepare to go home instead, which earned him a scowl from you.

The car ride to home was fill with you both getting to know each other. How you both grew up. Though you still hide so many, you just told him the enough amount of it, well maybe to the part of your father and you don’t have a really good relationship, but that was all. Namjoon told you how he grew up, how he ended up going to the States before deciding to go back here. You had a feeling that he too was hiding something, but maybe, only time will be able to tell.

“I’m so sorry for troubling you” you said when you’ve finally arrived. a frown on your face, as you felt bad for doing this to him.

“It’s okay, I don’t live far from you anyway, I’m just a building away” he said, with a smile on his face, that you grew to fond of now.

“Thank you for the ride, Namjoon” you thanked him, a smile made its way onto your face.

“I enjoy this, let’s do it another time, y.n” 

And somehow it becomes an everyday thing for you and Namjoon to go home together. Some days it’d be you driving, and some with him driving. People would have caught the sudden closeness you gain. Maybe some questioning it, but if they do, nothing has been caught by your ears so far.

It’s rather beneficial really for the both of you. Sometimes Namjoon would come over, and you both would put Netflix on and binge watch some documentaries there. Or sometimes, when things just went awful, or when you have something to celebrate, you both would go out for a drink, get drunk, and call a designated driver. Some days, you both would go on a dinner, when work got too hectic and left you both barely room for breathe. Or sometimes, you both would go to watch a movie that you both have been waiting for its release.

It was one of those days. Where things are just… hard. Nothing is going in your way. You got yelled by a doctor, and even Jimin expressed his disappointment. Jimin was someone who barely disappointed with you, knowing you more than anyone else here. And when Jimin got disappointed, it means you really did something messed up.

Not only that, a patient’s condition was worsened, her kidney was failing on her, and she was just a teenager. And so far, there wasn’t any available donor. 

You were walking through the hall when a conversation caught your attention. You can’t help but listening into their conversation. Well, how can you resist when said conversation involving your name being mentioned. It supposedly come as no surprise that people would gossiping about you, and yet, despite knowing better, continue to listen what on they have to say.

“I just don’t get what Professor Kim saw in her, like she’s just a spoiled brat!” A nurse said.

“Are they even dating?”

“No way, I bet they are close because well her father or maybe her want favour” “I bet she actually likes him, but he’s just being too nice”

And that’s it. You had enough. You shook your head in disbelief. Even after years, and your obvious showing of your dislike towards your father, everyone still think you are daddy’s little girl. All things accumulated inside you. You felt so stuffed inside. You had enough. You quickly approached the familiar office, knowing he would be there. You knocked on his door, just in case he has someone inside.

“Come in” Namjoon said from behind the door,

You carefully opened the door. You saw the sight of a woman, seemingly around you or Namjoon’s age. You were more than sure she was the most beautiful woman that you’ve ever seen in your life. Her red lipstick matching her skin tone, like as if it was made specifically for her. The pencil skirt she wore cladding on her skin so perfectly, accentuating her figure. Her aura was almost overwhelming.

“Ah… You have a patient? I’ll come back later than” you said in apologetic tone.

She was staring at you, a smirk on her face. “Oh? Namjoon really didn’t tell anyone about who am I, did he?” She said, her voice was taunting.

You said nothing, being put in an awkward situation. “I’m sorry, I’ll go out” you excused before you close the door again.

But you did not miss it.

You did not miss the last sentence she said, right before you close the door.

“Namjoon, I love you still”

~~~

God and here you thought your day couldn’t get any worse. You really now felt like you were drowning in an ocean of negativity. You don’t know why, and you don’t want to know, but you felt a pang in your heart. You felt your throat constricting. You felt something that you haven’t felt in so long it almost scared you.

You just wanted to be home as soon as possible. Maybe get some drink, and hoping Namjoon would listen to your worries, like he always did. You strut your way back to your office, not caring about your expression anymore, too tired to control it. You can feel the tears of frustration brimming in your eyes, they burn. But still you paid no mind to it.

Especially when a text came.

From [Namjoon]: Sorry, cant go home now, I’ll see you tomorrow 

And tomorrow came. If you thought it was any better, well it wasn’t. Not when your father’s secretary suddenly knocked at your door when you were preparing for breakfast. Sunghyun, your father’s secretary, was a rather nice man, and he acted as the messenger between your father and you. Sometimes you felt bad for it.

“What now, Sunghyun?” You sighed, as you see him by your door. “Come in, I made some pancakes” you said while opening your door a little bit wider for him to come.

“No need to, I’ll be quick, your father wants you to be at the Min Corporation gala. It’s well… for fundraising, but your father can’t attend it, and your brother is overseas” he said.

You sighed. If you hate your father, well you hate the galas more than anything. The free food and champagne is an advantage, but the mingling and fake smile for hours was not your cup of tea.

“You know the answer, it’s a no from me” you said before you rolled your eyes.

“And you know the answer from your father, he doesn’t take no, I’ll be going then” Sunghyun said. “And oh! Don’t forget to bring a date, I think your father wants someone in particular and you know who” he added, before he really left you standing by the door

You really don’t know how to break it to Namjoon that your father wants him to go for a gala, and with you on top of that. You can tell him that it’s a work order, but maybe somewhere deep down inside you, you want it to be something more. Beside, you don’t want him to feel obligated to attend.

But you were rather surprised, and rather pleasantly when he easily accepted it. Now, he become your only reason to feel excited about the damn gala. You can already picture the look you were going for tonight.

And with that in thought, you went to the gala with heart giddy. He promised to meet with you at the venue as he had an appointment right before it. You can’t help but let your mind wander on how he would look with a tux on. Your heart beats faster at the thought.

You stepped off your car, and everyone’s eyes are instantly at you. Your hair was set onto a bridal up-do, your off-shoulder emerald gown looking so glamour under the lights, making you look like you stepped out of fairytales, your Saint Laurent pumps accentuating your legs, and your Gucci purse completing the look.

But as minutes pass by from the assigned time, you grew anxious. You tapped on your feet. You were standing at the corner of the room, anxiously waiting for Namjoon. Your eyes keep searching for his figure, wanting nothing but to be with him. And it doesn’t help when you spot your ex, and by god you regret that, cause he caught your stare and was walking towards your way.

A vibrate on your phone making you looked down towards it. A text appeared in the notification bubble.

From [Namjoon]: I’m sorry, I think I’ll be late, Idk if I can make it, but I’ll try, I’m so sorry

You sighed. Disappointment filling your being. You now wasn’t in the mood for anything at all. You wanted nothing but to go home now, and maybe just watch another documentary like you always do.

“Lonely tonight, are we?” Seokjin, who was now standing beside you, asked.

“Shut up, get away from me” you said.

“Why are you not mingling? Are you craving for a beating from your dad?”

“I told you to shut up, didn’t I?”

Seokjin chuckled at you. “It’s a pity, you could have just joined me, and if we were still together, you might be having a good time instead of a really suck time” he said, his eyes were mocking you.

“Who said I was alone? My date is a busy doctor, someone who actually works, not just riding on daddy’s fame” you said, your tone was full of malice.

But Seokjin just smirked. He was rather entertained by your action and behaviour. He suddenly leaned in, and whispered to you. “Or maybe, Namjoon is just busy with a certain woman” he whispered. His voice indicating that he indeed knows something.

You shook your head in disbelief. You were angry. Angry at everything. Angry that you let your ex who cheated on you to get to you. Angry that you were losing your composure. Angry that Namjoon lied to you. And that was your breaking point. You didn’t care anymore. You immediately pushed Seokjin away from you harshly. 

“Fuck off, Seokjin” you said before you exited the ballroom, back towards your car.

You were just sad. Sad that just why Namjoon would lie to you, why can’t he just say it to your face that he doesn’t want to go with you. 

Your face was as emotionless as ever when you come to work the next day. You were more than ready to accept your father’s wrath. And truth be told, you just want to get it over and done with. You can’t wait to go over it, cry a little bit, and maybe then the tension inside you that’s been building will go away.

And by god, you don’t want to face Namjoon today. You avoided him all day, not at all making your way towards his hallway. If Jimin and Jiwoo noticed, they didn’t said anything. But they were rather worried. Because you haven’t said a single word to them. You weren’t letting anyone come close to you. You kept silently doing your job and anything Jimin tells you to.

And then it comes. It was rather funny really your encounter. You were walking towards your office when Sunghyun was walking to your office too. 

“Ah, y.n, I was looking for you” Sunghyun said.

You sighed. “Father wants to see me?” You asked.

Sunghyun nodded in pity, as he felt bad for you. You sighed, accepting your fate, knowing you can’t deny it. You rather face him in the office rather than letting him step onto the comfort of your own home. And so with heavy steps, you walked towards your father’s office, embracing the fact that a fiery wrath is waiting for you.

And just like what you were expecting, when you entered the room, your father was there. He was sitting behind his desk. You lowered your head, waiting for the storm to come.

He was looking at you, from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. His stare was icy cold, something that supposedly you were used at. But not when you can’t help it. Not when you are afraid, knowing very well on what’s about to come. For something that had happened ever since your childhood days. And you can only gaze at the golf club by his desk in fear.

He stood up from his seat. He wasn’t that tall, but you feel small beneath his overpowering gaze. And you feel like you were the 8 years old girl all over again, who was cowering in fear, as her toy accidentally knocked over a fine china. And there he stood, in front of you, just like the old times. You can feel the panic attack start coming over to you.

And then, just like the lightning strike, his hand came fast and hard and land onto your cheek. Your palm immediately went to the burning cheek, grasping it in pain, for sure it would turn red. And then he kicked your shin, making you buckle onto the ground, feeling smaller than you were already.

And he reached for the golf club. At this point, your tears can’t be contained any longer. It fell down onto your cheek. Sobs came out of your mouth, asking for him to stop, but he, just like always, let your words be muffled by his own anger. And just like how his hand, the golf club too now was hitting at your figure, hard, so hard the pain caused you to cry even more. And yet he has no mercy. Not until his anger dissipated.

“How. Dare. You. Ashamed. Me. In. Front. Of. Senator Kim’s. Son. And. Leave. The. Gala?!” He said, with so much anger in his voice, every words for every hit. No doubt purple bruises are now painting your body

“I’m sorry, please stop, please” you sob and pleaded.

And it feels like god answered your prayer, because he stopped. He let out a sigh like as if the tension had left him, and now you were left with so much trauma, so much memories of your childhood came back into you, as you continue to cry more into the floor.

“You really won’t get my words won’t you?” he said with so much anger despite the calm tone.

“Now get out” he said coldly, before he strut back towards his chair.

You quickly get up from the floor. Your steps were shaky as you reached for the door. But as soon as you were out of the room, you run towards your office. You can feel your chest tightening, your throat constricting, as your eyes continue to pour more tears from it.

You immediately went into the comfort of your office, closing the door rather harshly. You lean onto the door and let out gasps of breathe, not really aware of your surrounding. You grasp on your chest, trying to gather some air to breathe on.

When suddenly you felt a figure coming right onto you. Your eyes were wide open. You recognised Namjoon, looking at you, with so much concern and worry in his eyes. You let yourself breakdown, as more sobs coming out of you. Namjoon took a hold of your body as you fell onto the floor.

“You’re okay here, you’re safe” Namjoon said, trying to comfort you. He saw how you look very much disturbed. He saw the angry red print on your cheek. He saw the purple bruises that now is visible as it’s forming on your collarbone and forearm that were revealed. He may have an idea on who might had done this.

“It’s okay, you’re safe here y.n…” he comforted even more, letting you calm down in his hug. 

Minutes passed by, and you were much calmer now. And Namjoon not even a second letting go of you, and for that you were so thankful for. He held you in his arms, that now felt so secure and safe for you. It felt like with him here, you have nothing to be afraid of, that he will chase everything off.

“Thank you” you muttered. You nuzzle your cheek into his chest, not wanting to let go of him.

“I need to check your bruises” He said.

“It’ll be fine” 

“No, you’re not, talk to me” Namjoon said, his voice stern. He can’t help but feel anger building inside him, a fuming anger, towards whoever did this to you.

And you noticed that. The deep frown in his face says it all. His eyes can’t hide the unadulterated rage behind it.

“Namjoon, I’m okay, I’m fine” you said, reassuring him. Namjoon’s eyes look back at yours. You stare right onto his, wanting to assure him that all is fine now.

“You’re not y.n, you were crying, you were hurt, I swear to god whoever did this-“ You grabbed a hold of his face, you cradle his face onto your palms. “I’m okay hey, I’m here” you said, assuring him. “I’m just glad you are here with me” you said giving him a small smile, despite the lingering fear still left behind in you.

“Is it your father?” He whispered, his voice was so careful, as if he was afraid you would break.

You looked down and nodded. “But it’s okay, I’m used to it okay” you said.

And god, that was even more horror to him. No one should be used to such abusive treatment. “God y.n, that- that doesn’t make it any better” he said, his voice was so quiet, and yet you know he was having so many emotions going on inside his heart.

“I’m going to confront him about this, I’m going to beat him-“

His words were cut off. Of course it was. Maybe it was the spur of the moment, maybe it was something that you’ve been wanting to do for so long and now it finally reaching its tipping point. Maybe it was because he wouldn’t stop worrying, but you did it. You put your lips onto his, cutting him off of his word.

Namjoon was surprised. His eyes were widened, when he realised you were kissing him. Your eyes were close tightly. He held you tighter in his arms, as he reciprocate this kiss.

You both let go for oxygen need. A smile on both of your face. You felt rather shy now, and a little bit afraid. “I’m sorry” you apologised. Your eyes were still trained on your thighs, avoiding his.

Namjoon looked down at you who was till in his arms. He smiled softly, the familiar fondness come back into him as he saw your shy demeanour. A flower bloomed in his heart. “For what?” He asked, a teasing smile was now on his face.

“You know what” you muttered.

“I appreciate the apologise” he said, making you looked up at him. “But I love it, so I’m going to do it again” he said before he kissed you once again. You can’t help but smile into the kiss. Happiness and love replacing the feeling in your heart.

But then, the woman popped up into your mind, making you let go.

“W-wait” you said before you let go. “But I don’t want to be in the middle of unfinished business” you said. “Or well that’s what Seokjin hinted…” you muttered.

It seems like Namjoon caught on what you meant. And he gave you a smile… and for some reason you were scared to find out the meaning behind it. “We have nothing going on, for so long now” he said.

You tilted your head at him in confusion, needing more explanation.

“She’s my ex, we almost got engaged, and then I found out, so I break it off, and then she tried to come to me again” he explained.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a rebound” you said, your voice stern.

Namjoon pet your hair, his smile once again appeared. “Yes, I am, I wouldn’t kiss you if it was otherwise, and I chose this over any possibilities” he said,

“And… I’m sorry for not… appearing last night, I had a patient, code blue” he apologised, his voice was so sincere.

You pouted at the memory of last night, not wanting to remember it any longer. “It sucked so bad, I dressed up so well, and for nothing” you huffed. “But if you give me more kisses, maybe I’ll think about forgiving you” you said, as you pretend to think about it very seriously.

Namjoon grabbed a hold of your hand before he gave you a peck on your lips. “I’ll up your request to something better” another peck “What if I take you out on a date?” And another peck.

You beamed at him, giving him even more pecks all over his face. “Okay, tonight then, and I want to go to that new ice cream parlour” you said before you got up and went out of your office, going back to work 

The alarm on your phone rang so loud, it able to woke you up from your sweet dream. You groggily reached for your phone and turn it off. Peaceful silence once away fill your bedroom. You then went back to nuzzle into the embrace of your boyfriend. One of his arm was circling around your waist, hugging you tight to him. He softly groaned from beside you, being the victim of your loud alarm as well.

“Good morning” you greeted, a small smile on your face. “As much as I’d rather be cuddling, we have to go to work” you said.

“Why don’t we just skip work, and have the day all to ourselves?” He suggested playfully. You hit his chest as a scolding. 

“Come on, get up Professor, we need to work and tend our patients” you said as you attempted to get up.

But Namjoon had other things in mind. He pulled you back into him, trapping you between his arms, as his upper body hovering over you. He pulled you into a kiss, that you were more than happpy to reciprocate. “We will, but for now, I will have my girlfriend all to myself first” he muttered between kisses.

You smiled into the kiss. His silly words bring a smile onto your morning that usually fill with frown. “You’re lucky I love you” you said, which he hummed in respond as an agreement.

You were both all tangled up in bed, hands on each other, not wanting to leave each other behind. Jimin and Jiwoo would call you both clingy. How could you not when you both worked at the same hospital, sometimes you sleep at his and sometimes him at yours. And yet, you still both longed for each other when you’re away from each other. 

But really, there’s no place you’d rather be than in his arms, and him in yours.

a/n: AAA IM BACK, THIS ONE TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE DSJKHF i’m watching Hospital Playlist nowadays, so this was inspired by the drama hehe, I hope u guys like it ;-;;; tbh when i made this, i have the look namjoon delivered during MOTS 7 press conference aksjh. Also to anon, I know this takes so long but I’m currently writing your request! Also everyone! Pls stay at home and keep your hygiene! 

[talk1about7seventeen]

♡︎Safe Haven Pt. 2♡︎

Summary: Remus was recently diagnosed with ADHD and refuses to take his meds. He may need a friend and a bit of rational thinking to find out what’s really troubling him. 

 Warning: ADHD, blunt/ harsh Logan, talk of mental illness, intense moments/situations, crying, self deprecation, cursing, angst. 

 Characters: Remus (Kingsley) and Logan (Shepard) 

 Word Count: 839

 Ship/ Pairing: Remus x Logan (Intrulogical) (Platonic) 

 AU: Human

This is a continuation of my one shot Safe Haven! It’ll probably be like a mini series of my Human AU of Sanders Sides!  I hope you enjoy!!! *ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭♡*ﾟ --- I really wish I would have told him then.... But I don’t think I could have...

“Take them.” Logan said to the boy slouched over a prescription bottle that sat  on the lonesome table of two.

“I don’t think I even really need them, Lo.” Remus laughed through his words. His thumb brushed against the label which read, Focalin XR 20 mg. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, adjusting his glasses accordingly. “I would advise you to listen to your psychiatrist. You were prescribed this particular stimulant for a reason. There is no argument that you could provide that could convince me otherwise.” He had been at this conversation for far too long for his patience to still be intact. Logan knew Remus was struggling, this was as apparent as the fact that he was also sleep deprived; it could be read just by looking at him.

Remus sighed, his brows furrowing as he went over the things he could say to him. He was searching for something, anything to get him out of this situation. He balled his hands into a fist as his mind began to race. “You are ill, Remus. This will help you.” 

“But what if it won’t!? Have you ever tried considering that!?” He stood up, slamming his palms on Patton’s wooden table. “Have you ever considered....that I’m just too broken...? Or that---I don’t fucking know, Logan!!! Maybe try seeing it from my point of view!? Maybe I don’t want these faulty drugs! Maybe I just want to be how I am without someone reminding me that there’s something wrong with me!” He was shrieking now. Remus’ voice echoed in the walls that surrounded them. There was a heavy silence and an aching feeling it Remus’ chest that could only be described as devastation.

Logan sat, motionless. “Why do we go to the doctors?”

“What?” Remus asked, studying the neutral expression on his friend’s face. “Why do we go to the doctors, Remus?” He emphasized his words.

“I don’t know!” He tried to avoid Logan’s piercing stare. “Yes you do.” Remus let out a groan. “Because---people get hurt...”

“And?” Logan raised an eyebrow. Remus glared at him. “And....people need help.”

“In this case, your psychiatrist, is the doctor in question who studies and practices medicine focused diagnoses of mental, emotional, and behavioral disorders which also includes substance use disorders. Do you, or do you not, have a mental diagnosis?” 

“I---I do...” Remus began to sit down slowly, his temper lowering. “Knowing this, isn’t it fair to say that you need help?” Logan asked, his eyes following Remus’ movements. He looked into Logan’s cold eyes. They held no emotion.

“....yes..” Remus mumbled. “Louder.” Logan commanded. 

This son of a bitch--- Remus bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from speaking what he thought. “Yes.” He repeated, louder this time. He felt tense, like he could explode more than he already had at any second. “This,” Logan picked up the bottle of pills and held it up to Remus. “This, is your help.”

“Now if you can’t do this for yourself....do it for Patton.” Remus’ eyes widened at the very mention of the sun kissed boy. He looked down at his shaking hands. “You and I both now how you feel about him. So if you were to need any form of motivation, look around you.” 

Remus lifted his head up slowly, fighting the tears that threatened to form and he looked around him. He looked at all of the pictures of his beloved smiling, the art, the knowing that he loved Patton far more than he did himself. For him...he thought.

Remus looked back at Logan who still had the prescription in his hand. “Fine.” He reached out and grabbed it gently from Logan. “Read the side effects, become familiar with Focalin XR, take it the same time every day, and for the love of all things good in this world, don’t fuck up.” Logan stood up and pushed the chair in. He watched as the boy with glasses walked to the door and stopped before it. He turned and looked at Remus. “He’ll be home soon.”

Without another word, he opened the door and disappeared within the night. The candles in the room flickered around him. Twisting open the bottle he tipped a capsule into his hand and stared at it intently. 

Patton’s face appeared in his mind, the field behind the house, the sweetness of his voice....how close their lips were. He smiled at the idea of Patton so close to him. How being around Patton was like there was no such thing as mental illness or insomnia, or the intrusive thoughts that haunt the part of Remus’ brain that would forever remain locked away from the rest of the world. Patton was the light that existed in Remus’ life....he was the sun.

“For him.” Remus told himself aloud and with all the strength he could muster, he swallowed the pill.

[remiwarner]

   ❝𝕴𝖙 𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖘 𝖆 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖘 𝖎𝖙.❞

                    – – a Remi Warner playlist.

1. “Snufs” Kaveh, OnklP   /  (TRANSLATED)

Long fingernails, on some pimp shit Out to find a fucking nightclub to paint white Tony Montana, don’t think he accepts credit But he’ll happily give you your first hit Yo, come and get a (bump of cocaine)

And she asked me if I was keen on something And the line to the bathroom was fucking long cause all the boys were on some

2. “Day ‘N Nite” Kid Cudi

Slow mo When the tempo slows up and creates that new, new He seems alive though he is feeling blue The sun is shining, man, he’s super cool, cool The lonely nights they fade away He slips into his white Nikes He smokes a clip and then he’s on the way To free his mind in search of

Day and night, the lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night He’s all alone and through the day and night The lonely loner seems to free his mind at night At, at, at night

3. “Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked” Cage The Elephant

Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked Money don’t grow on trees I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed And ain’t nothing in this world for free Oh, no, I can’t slow down, I can’t hold back Though you know I wish I could Oh, no, there ain’t no rest for the wicked Until we close our eyes for good

4. “Cold Wolves” The Gromble

‘Cause there weren’t many times that we shared a bed In the presence of strangers, you’d be sharing with them Needed protection and kept me around But I would always let you down Oh, I can always let you down

Machines keep on working I want to believe But tries are to no avail Some of us were born to fail

5. “Let It Bleed” The Used

This poison’s my intoxication I broke the needle off in my skin Picked the scabs and picked the bleeding And assumed that it was all in vain Pulled at a scab that’s never healing Callused, hit me in the face A burning bridge that’s so misleading Poison’s more potent now with the flame

Let it bleed, take the red for what it’s worth Watch the fire Fill your lungs with smoke for the last time If you feel like dying, you might wanna say

The fire department couldn’t drown the city They didn’t even try to wash it clean And what did you think – that I was sober? Put me out ‘cause I’m on fucking fire I pulled at a scab that’s never healing Regret that I kept this clean The most that I can do for you is keep on lying

6. “Prescription” Mindless Self Indulgence

I’m the doctor, I’m the patient Don’t forget that; it’s important If you love me, like I love me Everybody will be sorry

Well, I don’t need nothing before the show I don’t need nothing, well, that’s not so I need something before the show Just a little something to make me go You know what I want You know what I want Give me more, give me more Pretty please, a prescription Give me more, give me more Pretty please, a prescription

I don’t need no one screwing up my fun Over the counter, fill that prescription I don’t need no one screwing up my fun Turn down the bass and fill that prescription

Make it stop, make it stop Pretty please, a prescription Make it stop, make it stop Pretty please, a prescription

7. “Overdose” Grandson

I couldn’t find the thrill again I couldn’t seem to kill the pain I was living in the moment Searching for a little serotonin But this shit ain’t so fun now I can’t deal with the comedown I’ve been living on the run, now Oh, I gotta get out of this town somehow

‘Cause the bad’s been slowly getting worse In this fast lane, living, it’s a curse Better tell me, what’s your life worth? I think it’s time for a change ‘cause the drugs don’t work Anymore, anymore, anymore

Overdose, overdose, overdose, overdose, overdose All fun and games ‘till I hit the floor, comatose

8. “Little Lion Man” Mumford & Sons

Weep for yourself, my man, you’ll never be what is in your heart Weep, little lion man, you’re not as brave as you were at the start Rate yourself and rake yourself, take all the courage you have left And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

But it was not your fault, but mine And it was your heart on the line I really fucked it up this time, didn’t I, my dear?

9. “Dread In My Heart” Mother Mother

There’s a godawful shitty feeling of dread in my heart Yeah, it’s got a lot to do with having to finish what I start And at any second now I think it all might fall apart ‘Cause there’s a godawful shitty feeling of dread in my heart

There’s a devil in my brain with a pitchfork and a flame Yeah, he likes to poke around and he likes to tell me things And whenever I begin to feel like I might be deranged I remember there’s a little shitty devil in my brain

Oh, I wonder what it’s like to be the type who doesn’t burn Yeah, the kind who fights the good fight Not the kind you’d find fisti-fucking-cuffing in the dirt

10. “Heavy Shit” Blake Rose

They tell me ‘why, this is all part of life, you see’ But the world keeps circling around me No, can’t seem to stop beating so hard on myself Hence all the shit I pour out Still haven’t found what I’m looking for No, all of these people keep closing doors They told me ‘you can’t keep holding all this shit to yourself Go find a way to let it pour out’

So here I am, trying to figure where it all went wrong Feel like a ghost in my own damn home Starting to wonder how I got so numb To this heavy shit I pour out Bottoming bottles in the mirror when I’m on my own Feel like I’m lost in my own damn bones Can someone tell me how I got so numb To this heavy shit I pour out?

11. “Discoloration” Dawn Golden

You took my hand and brought me down in the morning And I was sitting waiting for the telephone to swallow me whole I saw your face reflected on the resonant screen And I watched your mouth moving like a tired machine Trying to plead with me Trying to swallow me whole

It’s been a while since I’ve been gone and away And I watched your eyes reflect me in a terrible way As you cast your gaze to the flickering hall

And you knelt beside me and you started to pray And the whites of your eyes blackened with a hardened decay And you talked to me in a broken voice

‘In your open mouth Silence me in your coursing Blood in my eyes Dress me in your clothes And swallow me whole’

12. “Blue And Yellow” The Used

And it’s all in how you mix the two And it starts just where the light exists It’s a feeling that you cannot miss And it burns a hole through everyone that feels it

And you never would’ve thought in the end How amazing it feels just to live again It’s a feeling that you cannot miss And it burns a hole through everyone that feels it

Well, you’re never gonna find it if you’re looking for it Won’t come your way, yeah Well, you’ll never find it if you’re looking for it

Should’ve done something, but I’ve done it enough By the way your hands were shaking Rather waste some time with you Should’ve said something but I’ve said it enough By the way my words were fading Rather waste some time with you

13. “Past Life” Trevor Daniel

I’m trying to be honest with my happiness Don’t know why I’m bad at this And I don’t wanna settle in my sadness I know it’s a habit of mine

Perfect, perfect timing I start what I don’t know how to end Don’t re– don’t remind me I ruined it before it began

Last night was the last night of my past life Got me here like ‘you can never figure me out’ Last night was the last night, was the last time I’ll never let you figure me out Sitting here, talking to myself Thinking how I used to use you, only thing I’m used to Last night was the last night of my past life

14. “Graceless” The National

Graceless Is there a powder to erase this? Is it dissolvable and tasteless? You can’t imagine how I hate this Graceless

I’m trying, but I’m graceless Don’t have the sunny side to face this I am invisible and weightless You can’t imagine how I hate this Graceless

I’m trying, but I’m going through the glass again Just come and find me God loves everybody, don’t remind me I took the medicine and I went missing Just let me hear your voice, just let me listen

All of my thoughts of you Bullets through rotten fruit Come apart at the seams Now I know what dying means I am not my rosy self Left my roses on my shelves Take the wild ones, they’re my favorites It’s the side effects that save us Grace Put the flowers you find in a vase If you’re dead in the mind it’ll brighten the place Don’t let ‘em die on the vine, it’s a waste Grace

There’s a science to walking through windows There’s a science to walking through windows There’s a science to walking through windows There’s a science to walking through windows without you

15. “End Credits” Eden

Cigarette ash like wildfire, burning holes in the nighttime Open scars cut like barbed wire White lies flying high like a ceasefire Dropping flags on the shoreline This is as far as I can feel right ‘Cause what you don’t know can harm you

And all we ever wanted was sunlight and honesty Highlights to wanna repeat Let’s get away from here and live like the movies do I won’t mind when it’s over At least I didn’t think for a while

So let’s run, make a great escape And I’ll be waiting outside for the getaway It doesn’t matter who we are, we’ll keep running through the dark And all we’ll ever need is another day We can slow down, ‘cause tomorrow is a mile away And live like shooting stars ‘Cause a happy ending’s hardest to fake

16. “Bloody Shirt” To Kill A King

What you wanna do tonight? I got wounds to lick in life All you’ve said Standing like a stick, this tie could invert to be a noose instead

Oh, you’re lying next to me Heart is beating heavily Blood in your hair, though, oh, and blood on your shirt

It’s too late to say you’re sorry, say you’re sorry still And I stepped out with heavy heart to bail you out again All those things you do, and all those things you do

Get out, get gone, this town is only gonna get worse Get out, get gone, this town is only gonna eat you

17. “No One’s Here To Sleep” Naughty Boy, Bastille

Every carpet, every floor, everywhere I look, I fall Climbing up the walls, I’m climbing up the walls What goes on behind these doors I’ll keep mine and you keep yours We all have our secrets, we all have our secrets

Behind every door is a fall, a fall And no one’s here to sleep

You were always faster than me I’ll never catch up with you, with you Oh, I can feel them coming for me

Here’s the pride before the fall Oh, your eyes, they show it all I can see it coming, I can see it coming As I rise up through each floor Shit gets dark when you lose it all I can hear it coming, I can hear the drumming

18. “Shots” Imagine Dragons

Am I out of touch, am I out of my place When I keep saying that I’m looking for an empty space? Oh, I’m wishing you’re here But I’m wishing you’re gone I can’t have you, and I’m only gonna do you wrong

Oh, I’m gonna mess this up Oh, this is just my luck Over and over and over again

I’m sorry for everything, oh, everything I’ve done From the second that I was born, I sense I had a loaded gun And then I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved Oh, I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that I loved

Am I out of luck, am I waiting to break When I keep saying that I’m looking for a way to escape? Oh, I’m wishing I had what I’ve taken for granted I can’t have you when I’m only gonna do you wrong

Oh, I’m gonna mess this up Oh, this is just my luck Over and over and over again

19. “Apartment” Young The Giant

After leaving my apartment I feel this cold inside me It howls away all through the market It calls your name

On my way to your apartment I write for fear of silence You carved a boat to sail my shadow Now I walk alone Alright, alright

I hit the sidewalk, and this is how it starts Hide in a raincoat when things are falling apart

After leaving your apartment I hear the coast by nightfall So sure to keep you dreaming You understood Oh, I know you understood Yes, sir, it shows I was no good Alright, alright

I hit the sidewalk, and this is how it starts Hide in a raincoat when things are falling apart ‘Cause sooner or later this is bound to stop Come on, let’s savor What we’re falling over

20. “Munich” Editors

It breaks when you don’t force it It breaks when you don’t try It breaks if you don’t force it It breaks if you don’t try

People are fragile things, you should know by now Be careful what you put them through

People are fragile things, you should know by now You’ll speak when you’re spoken to

With one hand you calmed me With one hand I’m still With one hand you calmed me With one hand I’m still

21. “Tamer Animals” Other Lives

Oh, living for the city And it’s always troubling to keep it in the high lane I don’t care about no scenery And you run from it then Now you can’t escape

‘Cause it’s all you see But we’re all just an end to a simple thing And it’s all you see And it’s all you see

We’re just tamer animals We’re just tamer animals

22. “Silhouette” Jacob Lee

I have tried to quantify the reasons I feel incomplete I guess sometimes my wisdom it figures that’s what I need I have tried to sit beside these demons that trip up my feet I guess sometimes it’s weakness that strengthens the skin on your knees

I’ve not liked myself for quite some time now Standing at the mirror with the lights out Try to keep my shadow at a distance Scared of what it’d say if it could listen

I’ve not known myself for quite some time now Staring at the mirror with the lights out Screaming words that I should probably whisper Terrified the light above might flicker

[overheart]

---------------------  you are so pure,  &  it has nothing to do with your eyes or your smile, everything to do with your heart, all torn  &  weathered on your shirt for the entire world to see,  (  so they can  t e a r  it up some more  ).  you are so GOLDEN,  &  i hear that you don't know how good you are  --  oh my, you are so good  --  because you cry when you get home most days,  &  you can't lift your body from the ground. is your body heavy from the people who have walked all over it ??   why did no one help you ??   you are so kind, so kind, so kind to everyone that you forget to be kind to yourself.

( trigger warning  -- parental abandonment/neglect, addiction/substance abuse, & overdose )

            please click  HERE  for her character stats   &    HERE  for her pinterest url.

--------------------  ✱ *:･ﾟ✧   𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒊𝒓 .  

♥    richard ilaria met elizabeth belova at just fifteen years old  &  immediately knew that she was his once in a lifetime. elizabeth, however, disagreed. she came from a long lineage of wealth  &  old money. aside from this, she was also the most accomplished female in her grade  --  maintaining a perfect GPA while also captaining the cheerleading squad  &  performing 40+ hours of community service a week. short to say  --  she wasn’t the slightest bit interested. as the cliches go, she chose the football star instead whose father had invented some salad dressing that blew up in calabasas. this didn’t defer richard though  --  he decided to work ten times harder than the rest of his class so that he would get into an ivy league of his choice on a full ride. once there, school  &  grades were the only thing on his mind. valedictorian wasn’t enough for him either. he was destined for greatness. going to yale provided quite a lot of opportunities  &  connections - now he just had to discover one. luck decided to find its way to him shortly after graduation when he ran into one of his old peers in a bar. there, whilst reminiscing  &  knocking a few back, the two managed to set what would later be the foundations for text messages. this, of course, became a sensation. once richard had accumulated a mass sum of money  &  made ilaria a known name, he went back for elizabeth. the courting process was now made simple because he knew she only responded to green. the two were wed at the age of twenty-five in 1995.

♥    richard  &  elizabeth almost immediately ran into troubles after they tied the knot. due to this, it was seeming as though kids would not be an option in their cards. both struggled with infidelity, but it was a lot stronger on elizabeth’s side. elizabeth had also began to develop a dependent on alcohol  &  some other various prescriptions. however, in 1997, elizabeth began to sense a distinct difference in their atmosphere. he was going to leave her. so, she decided to take matters into her own hands: ruin all their contraceptives  &  stop taking her own birth control. months after this, when the year had hit 1998, eleanor ilaria would be born. the first of their lineage  &  the child intended to save the failing marriage of two people who were never meant to be with one another or with children. after two years came along another daughter,  this time a lot less maliciously planned, but rather for the genuine desire of another child as well as a companion for young eleanor. as eleanor seemingly had a negative connotation attached to her mere existence, elena unfortunately rose to the status of the golden girl in their household. the dynamics of their family were far from perfect, but she was.

♥    though the younger daughter, elena was almost immediately tasked with cleaning up after everyone’s catastrophes due to her extreme abilities to empathize with all those around her. her mother was too honest. when you’re young, your mother is on a pedestal  &  she’s your superhero. however, it was elena who would have to get her into bed with a glass of water after a binge drink. it was elena who would have to give her naloxone after she mixed too many pills with a bottle of wine. she became more of a mother to her mother, than she had been to her. throughout all this, her father was very absent due to “work” when in reality he could have devoted a little more time to his family. he hated elizabeth  &  the woman she grew to become. he could barely stomach being in the same room as her, & it was clear to all three of the girls. in many ways, it was almost like the girls grew up with no parents at all. but at least they had each others’ hands to hold, right ??

♥    from an early age, it was made known to elena that she was incredibly beautiful. when her mother began saying it at an early age, it was touching. but as the years grew on, resentment  &  bitterness filled the tone in her voice as she commented on her appearance. around the time puberty hit, there was a shift in the way the rest of the world treated her too. the hands of her fathers’ coworkers would slip just a little too low during a hug, or a family friends’ would rest a little too long on her thigh. at age eleven, she had her first kiss with the son of her mom’s friend. by the time she was twelve  &  a half, she had her first boyfriend. she swore she loved him, but he decided he didn’t like her soon after. many of her relationships would grow to a similar dynamic as the years went on.

♥    once fourteen rolled around, she lost her virginity to a boy she swore she loved. but again, he decided he didn’t like her much afterwards. that month her period came late  &  got one positive on a test from target that eleanor had bought for her. this time, eleanor took care of her  &  elena didn’t have the weight on her shoulders. they told their mom together, but as it turned out - it was just a false positive. her mother didn’t look at her the same after that. it was then that their mother decided she didn’t want any children in the house,  &  sent them off to marble hill preparatory. there was a twinge of hurt from their mother not wanting them as a burden when she had been a mess their entire life, but there was no denying the feeling of lessened responsibility now that they wouldn’t be stuck in that large, empty mansion. despite wanting to be nothing like their mother, she was still seeking endless approval.

♥    in many ways she flourished once in high school, finding that life had much more to offer. she found two of her strongest passions - cheerleading  &  fashion. she would subscribe to countless magazines  &  spend her spare time formulating collages of pieces she’d cut out from them. this was when she truly felt authentic  &  the world went quiet. if you’d ask eleanor - another one of her passions was boys. she swore she loved all of them, pouring herself out to each of them - but it seemed they were only really ever interested in one thing.  &  they all really liked the way that she looked. men dictated the way that her life ran to a degree. her father had always been absent  &  she was left to crave the attention of a man. still, her grades were average  &  she was social  &  sweet to all. but she never felt as though she was worth very much  --  aside from sex. their fleeting attention was better than nothing at all.

♥    when she was sixteen, there was one day that eleanor hadn’t been answering any of her texts  --  or anyone elses. the behavior was unlike her,  &  call it sister intuition - but she knew that something was morbidly wrong. she went to her dorm room  &  there her sister lay  -  unconscious  &  choked in a pool of her own vomit. they say that there are three responses to trauma - fight, flight, freeze. you’ll never really know which you are until you face one yourself. she stood frozen for what felt like unending hours but in reality were likely to be a few minutes before shrieking to the point that her vocal cords may have ripped. what ensued was a blur. her sisters survival was a miracle. this was the worst day of both of their lives - despite the pain  &  hurt, it brought them closer in the end ( which they didn’t know was possible ). the aftermath was both parents scolding elena for not keeping eleanor out of trouble when she knew what could happen. it didn’t matter  --  whatever occurred, they would always alter their views to blame someone else. it was a catch twenty-two.

♥    there was no fallout after,  &  things resumed almost akin to how they had previously aside from eleanor getting treated. she swore up  &  down it would never happen again - but elena had her doubts. they’d grown up watching their mom slowly deteriorate for years. where eleanor would try  &  try to fill the void with various substances, elena lived in a fantasy world where she used sex as her own means of escape. she would always be chasing that unreachable unrealistic form of love that she never had as an example growing up. where was her prince charming ??

♥    life beat on, time was unforgiving  &  the two sisters had been surrounded by tragedy. she felt as though her sister had distanced herself while also raising her arms over her in protection similar to that of a bird  &  their baby. the distance was for her safety, so she need not worry whether or not she was using  &  so she would not have to continue the pattern her sister had had with their mother. she would not follow in her footsteps. it was from that point that eleanor also resumed a more passionate role of the big sister for elena.

♥    getting accepted into hatchet university was exciting despite the lack of surprise surrounding it due to her family name  &  economic status. even if she was denied, her father would have coerced them into acceptance a la a new library. there she continued cheerleading  &  fashion - which were two of her favorite things in the entire world, but there was no denying that there was always something lacking. a piece of her missing. perhaps it was the parts of herself that she’d spent so long pouring out into others that now left her half full. 

    . . .  will happiness  &  love always be just over the horizon  --  seemingly in sight but never truly hers to own ?? 

[pennys-th0ughts]

Robert Gray - The Origin of Pennywise 🤡 Chapter 1

Papers were scattered all over the desk and the dim light coming from an old oil lamp was fluttering in a lonely corner of the room. It was raining outside one cool November night of the year 1873 and the cobbled streets of Derry were almost empty. The sky was black ink like and the moon was bigger than usual. I was sitting on my armchair next to the window watching the last persons leave the street heading to the warm refuge of their homes.

The rain drops crashing against the window were falling down the glass getting thinner and thinner until the rain became a light drizzle. My eyes were focused on an old naked tree which had been stripped from all its leaves; it seemed to be dead since a crow was holding onto one of its branches looking erratically sideways. A seemingly endless night had woken up from its brief nap time, wet weather made it longer but sometimes the fresh breezes get to cool down my unstoppable mind from overthinking.

Stores were closed and finally the silence took over the sidewalks as insomnia used to take over my tired body and restless mind. I was twenty five years old and I suppose it was an advantage to be that young and have no commitments yet while being the sole heir of the only medicinal store in town. I could use my freedom at will and do whatever I pleased, managing my times since I was my own boss at work. The burden of such responsibility fell down on my shoulders when my father passed away, a couple of years after my mother decided to leave us because of a serious case of fever that my father couldn’t cure. I guess he felt defeated for not being able to cheat death this time and the corrosive feeling of guilt was what finally submitted him one night during his sleep.

The formalities concluded and after an orderly ceremony, the family’s lawyer made me sign some papers, then it all became in some kind of beneficious curse I needed to keep on going in order to survive. My father was the only apothecary in Derry and he began teaching me from an early age the art of mixing drugs to create specific medicines, so my grandfather did with him and so on.

Business flourished when a new disease wave attacked the small town leaving many fatal victims and several people in a critic health state. The only hospital was packed and people who couldn’t get medical attention in this facility had to stay indoors to prevent spreading the illness. There is when I stepped in. During a whole month I wouldn’t stop preparing thousands of dosses commissioned by the hospital and many other wealthy families. I would end up working night and day to fulfill the town needs for medicine to cure diphtheria, soothe the pain and reduce the fever. I got to really enjoy my work, but one day I couldn’t take the overwhelming pressure anymore that made me snap, so I started looking for an assistant to help me out with the preparations and also someone to deliver them. Speeding up the delivery could definitely save other people’s lives.

Shadows of death were still lurking and swallowing everything in its path, turning the alleys darker and the houses emptier. The plague was spreading faster than we could cure it and the atmosphere in Derry was getting heavier with sadness and hopelessness. During the nights, streets looked like pathways to afterlife and the little oil lamps hanging at the entrances were like golden eyes, always watching and waiting.

Two days passed and interested people didn’t make themselves wait much longer and started to come to the drug store asking for the jobs. They were all willing to help but none of them fit with the qualities I was looking for. Until one day I finally found her, or perhaps she found me. Her features were as I imagined them and even better; she had little hands and long fingers, she was meticulous and careful. Her name was Charlotte Wise but she was known in town as Ruby, a well-deserved nickname since her hair was red as the stone. The day she came into the store everything changed, as if a sudden peacefulness had taken over the place. My new assistant would transform not only my work but also my life from that moment on.

Spring arrived after the dark days left Derry and its people slowly tried to get back to normal. Charlotte and I began having more time to spend in each other’s company so I decided it would be a good opportunity to teach her something new related to her job. We were still working as usual but the environment inside the shop had some kind of magic that was making it springier. Andrew, Charlotte’s younger brother, took the delivery job and he was doing very well, we didn’t receive any complaints about time or packages delivered in bad conditions. The boy was attentive and helpful, just like his beautiful sister. Agility was on his side and he was making a great use of it with the bicycle he got for the job. When work increased we bought a new mean of transportation so the boy wouldn’t get caught under the suffocating heat or merciless storms.

That year ended with a happy ending for Derry and we started a new one even happier. Charlotte and I had gathered enough money to begin a new life; she wanted to live with me so we bought a small but modest house two blocks away from the shop. Her brother would inherit his sister bedroom in their mother’s house so things couldn’t have settled down any better. I proposed Charlotte to be my wife one hot summer morning to which she merrily accepted. We got married at the chapel and later we had a delicious brunch under the willows of the park. That day and the ones that would follow would be memorable.

August, 1875

Charlotte’s contractions were getting more often and she will soon start her labor. We found out she was expecting later that summer which to me was like more wonderful news. I was in the middle of a preparation to help diuresis when someone came to the shop and let me know that my wife was in the operations room. I left Andrew in charge of the shop until I got back and rushed to the hospital taking the carriage; it will get me there faster.

I got to the Derry Public Hospital just in time to hold my wife’s hand and help her with her labor. Although she wasn’t looking so well she was doing an amazing job, showing her braver side, as always. The nurses were extremely careful and gentle; they were coming and going, taking wet cloths and other objects to the room.

After a long struggle Charlotte finally delivered a beautiful baby girl into this world. The doctor cut the cord and put her on my wife’s arms; he turned around and made me to a side to talk privately.

– Congratulations Mr. Gray – the literate man said squeezing my shoulder-. Your daughter is in perfect shape – he made a pause and, with a lower tone of voice added- but I'm afraid your wife is in delicate condition now. She has lost too much blood and she will require an intensive iron treatment to overcome the anemia she might possibly develop.

The doctor gave me a prescription with the steps to follow and a food diet, I thanked him for his advice and went back with my wife that had fallen asleep cuddling our child. The little girl was oddly quiet, she seemed confused and curious yet she was paying attention to her surroundings very carefully. I came closer to take a better look at my tiny wonder and took her little hand with my fingers that she immediately held on to firmly. My heart was pounding inside my chest like a machine out of control, making me sweat almost profusely. Nervousness, excitement and curiosity were a complex mixture, as the ones I was so used to prepare with the only difference that this one was totally out of my knowledge.

Charlotte was indeed exhausted and very pale but I could see the joy sparkling in her face. She made a huge effort to open her eyes which eyelids seemed too heavy. Once she could finally fix her eyes with mine, she grabbed my hand and made me sit next to her. She looked at me in silence for some minutes as if trying to dig up my feelings somehow and figure out what was going on inside my head. Slowly the light in her eyes started to fade away, like a candle about to be completely consumed.

– Promise me you will always look after her, Robert – she pleaded in a whisper.

I nodded bitterly without saying a word knowing that, deep down inside she was, in some way, asking me to do something she wouldn’t be able to do and she just wanted to be sure we would be okay. I stroked her cheek so tenderly that the very contact with her smooth skin made the tips of fingers ache. I hugged them both as if I was trying to protect them from the world and the coldness it owned, but my arms seemed not to be enough. Nothing seemed to be enough to replace the turmoil of divided feelings I was being prey of that very moment so, I did what I was the best at, I began mixing them just to find the balance between happiness and sadness, wholeness and emptiness.

Five years later

Snow was covering Derry like no other time of the year and streets looked like unpolluted highways to heaven. There were some children playing in the front gardens of their houses, some were throwing snowballs at each other and some others were building snowmen. Augustine was having a hard time building her snowman since the snow kept on crumbling or the little branches didn’t stop falling from their holes. I was watching her through the window and her persistence was one of the many reasons of my smile. I grabbed my coat and went outside to help her finish what for her seemed to be a colossal monument. She was almost six years old and her mother and I had the chance to pick a name for her which I will always be totally grateful for.

Christmas was near and I had already bought Augustine her present. Andrew would spend the holiday with us since I started to enjoy my brother’s-in-law company and her niece loved her uncle very much. He became a great help when Charlotte passed away and our daughter was still a baby, he would take care of her while I was working and making the deliveries from time to time.

After Charlotte died I didn’t feel the need to bring another woman to work to the shop and less to start a new relationship, the hollow she left inside me was big enough to be impossible to be filled with somebody else’s presence and the fact was I wouldn’t ever try to replace my wife no matter how alone I could feel. My queen left her throne and I had a princess making her way to occupy it someday and that, for some unexplainable reason, was already a whole challenge that I had gladly accepted the very moment I looked at this little girl into her eyes.

To be continued…