#but I still got this stupid chart thing done despite all the pain - literal and metaphorical

[miqojak]

Here you have it! Apologies for the delay in posting this on day 1, I hurt my back pretty bad, and then had to fight a couple different tools and websites to get a decent layout for this to look nice. Take whatever approach is most fun for you, with this!

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 9- Cruelty

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for alcoholism

Masterlist

“No Hawks.”

“Why won’t you at least let me explain?”

“Because I suspect your explanation for why you ripped my heart out despite, supposedly, still being in love with me is going to piss me the fuck off and we have a red carpet to walk in a few minutes.”

“You always have an excuse for why we can’t talk. We never see each other at work anymore-“

“Hmm, I wonder why? It’s almost like someone’s bullshit got me kicked off the task force.”

“Not my point. I would talk to you at your place but your roommate stops me every time!”

“I always did like Mina.”

“Jesus you’re fucking impossible. I just want to make things right!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have fucked them up in the first place.”

“I can’t change the past.”

“And I can’t deal with my feelings for you on top of trying to salvage my fucking career.”

“So you admit there are still feelings?”

“How is that your takeaway from that sentence?”

It’s been about three days since the article about you and Hawks dropped. You are about four minutes from a heart attack and you think Hawks may be a maniac but he doesn’t know it. Your ride to another bullshit HPSC event stops and your door is opened to reveal a red carpet and a hoard of paparazzi awaiting your arrival. You and Hawks had just been fighting in your limousine but they don’t know. They can never know. So Hawks steps out and carefully smooths out his designer suit before reaching a hand down to help you out of the car. You take his hand and gracefully step out in your equally designer shoes and dress. You smile at each other as if your love is pure and uncomplicated. You smile at the paparazzi as if they aren’t the bane of your existence. You smile as you make your way into the event as if you aren’t literally dreading it. It honestly makes you feel nauseous. But this is the reality of modern day hero work. It’s as much about image and politics as it is about saving people, no matter how ridiculous you think that is.

You wish Bakugo and Midoriya were here so you’d at least have some uncomplicated friendly faces but they’re probably off doing actual hero work. You get the honor of shaking the hands of wealthy donors to the HPSC and interacting with heroes you’d probably recognize if you hadn’t been black out drunk at the last ranking ceremony. “I’ll grab us drinks,” Hawks sighs in a rare break the two of you have between meeting people. “I think that’s the first smart thing you’ve said all night,” you reply. He resists the temptation to roll his eyes as he tells you he’ll be right back and walks towards the bar. He isn’t gone long before you hear a deep voice behind you say, “I heard you were removed from the task force.” It takes everything in you not to launch Endeavor through the window as you turn to face him. “Unfortunately yes. All Might felt it was unwise for me to be on a task force with someone I was romantically involved with,” you reply as professionally as possible considering you’re still trying to figure out if the satisfaction of yeeting this prick out the window would be worth getting fired. “So I guess your little plan backfired on you then,” Endeavor says smugly. “My little plan?” “Your plan to use Hawks to climb the hero charts and gain insight into my agency.” You stare at the man in front of you and blink at him a few times. “I’m sorry can you just say that one more time?” you ask dumbfounded. This throws Endeavor off for a moment but then he clears his throat and repeats, “Your plan to use Hawks to-“ “Ok yea no that’s what I thought you said,” you say cutting him off. “I know this may be hard for you to hear but uhm, not everything is about you,” you sigh exasperatedly. “I am aware but-“ “No, no. Shut the fuck up, no but’s. There was no plan. I was just dumb enough to fall in love with your stupid ass Golden boy. Some of us are actually content just saving people regardless of some dumb, arbitrary ranking.” “Oh.” A pause. “What the fuck do you mean oh?” “I don’t owe you an explanation and you should watch how you talk to me.” “No one is paying attention to us right now, I’m not watching shit.” “Regardless you risk causing a scene.” “Oh my god, did you share your little theory with Hawks?” you press, and the sheepish look on his face is answer enough but then Hawks returns to your side, two drinks in hand, looking between you and Endeavor curiously. “Am I interrupting something?” Hawks asks with a raised eyebrow. “Babe could we talk privately for a moment?” you ask with a saccharine tone. “Uhh, sure,” Hawks replies. Next thing he knows you’re tugging him away from Endeavor and out of the banquet hall.

It pains him to realize how like and unlike this is to the first time the two of you met. The sly look Kamui Woods gives him as the two of you pass by makes him a little nauseous in all honesty. Probably because if he hadn’t fucked up so royally then maybe the two of you would be sneaking away for the reason the other man thinks right now. Instead he’s sure he’s about to get an earful because of whatever Endeavor had said to you. Eventually you tug him into a supply closet, using your quirk to find and flick on the light switch before closing the two of you into the tight space. He realizes it’s the first time you’ve been this close to him without a camera or another person nearby. “Hawks,” you start and and it hurts. It hurts every time you use his hero name when the two of you are alone. He misses the way his real name sounded on your tongue. He misses the fondness you used to have in your tone when you used it. He misses the way you’d sometimes shorten it to ‘Kei’. He misses it so much so that without thinking he interrupts you to say “Don’t call me that when we’re alone.” You ignore the interruption and that hurts too. “Did you break up with me because Endeavor told you I was just using you?” you ask him and all the air rushes out of his lungs. Finally you knew what he’d been trying to tell you for the past few days since everything went to shit. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I never stopped loving you (y/n) but I got scared and I’m so sorry. I never should have listened to him,” Hawks sighs and it feels like a weight off to finally tell you. “So it wasn’t that you didn’t love me,” you start and Hawks feels his broken heart starting to put itself back together, “it was just that you didn’t love me enough to have faith in me.”

Wait, what?

No. No, no, no this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Everything was supposed to get better once you found out the truth behind the break up. So why, then, do you look so distraught? “No, baby, no that’s not it,” he tries to assure you but you shake your head. “Isn’t it? You love me but not enough to hear out my side of the story before you dumped me. You love me but not enough to ignore the words of a man I’ve never had a full conversation with prior to today,” you point out. “I was just scared. He threatened my career and I just-“ “Just what? Hawks I can count on one hand the number of people who have genuinely had faith in me. That makes it really important to me. I thought I could count you as one of them.” “Hey, that’s not fair. I have faith in you but if you were in my shoes you would’ve made the same decision.” “And what shoes were those exactly?” “The shoes of someone hearing a man they’ve known and trusted for years tell them all the reasons why they’re an idiot to trust the woman they just met a few months prior.” “I didn’t realize I gave so many reasons for you not to trust me.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it. As dumb as I think the rivalry is it’s no secret that the lower ranks in both our agencies still believe in it and up until a year ago that was you.” “You could’ve asked.” “Maybe so but he also pointed out that there’s no way you couldn’t have fucking known who I was considering I’m the only hero with bright red fucking wings on my back,” Hawks grits out and as if on cue his wings are flaring and puffing up in the small space as if to emphasize his point. “Oh....” you trail off.

You have to admit he has a point on the last one. Sure, he could’ve asked. But Hawks never knew how problematic your drinking habits could be. Once the two of you got together you started getting sober so you hadn’t seen a reason to mention it. If he had asked you directly you don’t know that you would’ve been able to tell him the truth and that would’ve seemed to confirm Endeavor’s theory. “Yea, ‘oh’,” Hawks says and you almost wish you could hear more resentment in his tone instead of resignation because you are still so, so angry with him but you’re starting to see his side now and you hate it. At least if he resented you there wouldn’t be as much guilt for the blind rage you’d channeled his way. “That’s the one piece I still can’t make fit to be honest. Why’d you pretend not to recognize me?” he asks and if you didn’t still love him you’d probably give a half assed lie and be done with it. But you do, and he sounds so fucking heartbroken that you decide he at least deserves the truth. “I never gave a shit about the hero rankings. Who cares if you’re number 1 or number 50 as long as you’re saving people, y’know? So I never watched the ranking ceremony on tv and the one year I went in person I got black out drunk beforehand because Monoma was finally in the top 10 and he was being absolutely unbearable and I knew he’d continue to be for the rest of the night. So I drank and now I don’t remember any of it. I literally don’t know what any hero I haven’t directly worked with looks like. I know the names but couldn’t match them to faces for the life of me. Even with your ‘bright red fucking wings’. Bakugo actually gave me shit for it when I realized who you are,” you explain. “Would you have told me all that if I had asked you then?” he asks. “Probably not,” you admit. The kiss afterwards is unexpected but not unwelcome.

Hawks doesn’t consciously decide to kiss you. It’s just one moment you’re admitting you may not have been able to dispel his concerns and the next he’s reaching for you. He doesn’t regret it though. The moment your lips touch it’s like a missing piece of him has slotted back into place. It quickly grows heated and his hands find their way to your waist to reel you in closer and closer until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. He’s missed this so much it’s been a physical ache and he pours every bit of that pain and regret and heartache and love and hope, such agonizingly desperate hope, into the kiss, praying it will convey even a fraction of what he’s been feeling the past few days. Praying that maybe he can reach you and the two of you can go back to the bliss you enjoyed before he let Endeavor get in his head and ruin things. But then he feels wetness on his cheeks and when he pulls back to look at you he realizes you’re crying. “Why are you crying Love?” he asks as he reaches both hands up to cup your face and wipe the tears away. “Because if you feel even a fraction of what I feel when I kiss you, I don’t know how you could ever think it was fake,” you confess and it shatters his heart all over again. “(Y/n), I-“ “I wanna go home.” “Ok, I’ll fly us back to mine and we can-“ “No Hawks. My home. My apartment. I need... I need time.” “Ok.”

The two of you sneak out of the event. The tabloids will likely be flooded with headlines about how you and Hawks are so madly in love you had to sneak away for a supply closet tryst only to realize that wasn’t enough and decide to just bail on the event entirely. They’ll be wrong, of course, but it’s better they run that than the truth. Neither you nor Hawks says a word as he flies you to your apartment. Only once you’re standing in your open doorway does Hawks pipe up. “I have to leave tomorrow for a mission,” he says. “Task force?” you ask, although you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. “Yea. Task force,” he confirms. “Oh.” “Yea.” “Ok. How long will you be gone?” “I don’t know but at least a week.” “So I get a week’s break from the circus,” you say and part of you knows it’s a cruel thing to say, but another part of you says it’s only cruel if he actually cares for you as much as he claims to. “Yea, I guess so,” he says and he sounds so goddamn sad. You’re hurting him. You’re hurting him and you wish you could make yourself stop but you can’t. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sigh and then you close the door before he can respond. He stands staring at the closed door for a long while. You can tell by the shadow underneath the door. Eventually though he sighs and you hear him walk away with heavy, defeated steps.

Which is crueler: Him hurting you unintentionally because he never gave you the chance to explain? Or you intentionally breaking his heart the way he broke yours? You suspect you won’t like the answer so you go to the kitchen to grab a drink and try and forget you even posed the question in the first place.

You told Hawks his time away would be a break. In actuality it was agony. You went to work and then you went home. Bakugo and Midoriya were getting worried but work kept them busy enough you could avoid their questions and their concern and their judgment for the most part. “Why don’t you just talk to him?” Midoriya had asked one day. “She doesn’t owe him shit,” Bakugo had scoffed. “Maybe not,” Midoriya had acknowledged before turning back to you to say “but that doesn’t change the fact that the two of you love each other and you’re the one who decided to fake the relationship to the press. Even if you guys don’t start a real relationship again the least you could do is make sure you aren’t actively making each other miserable.” “I’ll think about it,” you had replied, but you decidedly didn’t think about it.

It’s been two weeks now since Hawks went away. You miss him. You wander into your kitchen, grab a bottle of Cabernet, open it, and are turning to lock yourself in your room when you nearly bump into an unfamiliar man with blonde hair with a single, lightning shaped black streak. “Who the fuck are you?” you ask once you’ve recovered. The man looks shaken by the question and a tad bit intimidated. “I’m, uh, Denki. Your new roommate? Mina introduced us the other day. You said hi, told me not to let Hawks in if he shows up, and then locked yourself in your room,” he explains sheepishly. You have zero recollection of this. You were probably drunk when it happened. “Oh... Well I’m (y/n) in case I forgot to mention it before,” you awkwardly introduce yourself before stepping around him. “See you around I guess,” you call over your shoulder before going back to your room and locking the door behind you.

You’re about halfway through the bottle of wine when it hits you what a sad sight this is. You’re wasting a perfectly good Saturday sitting at home alone and drinking by yourself in your locked room. The press would have a field day if they knew. You go to take another swig from the bottle, you’re far too sober to deal with everything you’re feeling right now, when you suddenly hear the sound of your lock shifting. You dismiss it at first as Mina trying the door to come check on you, but then it suddenly swings open to reveal Denki kneeling on the ground with a bobby pin looking accomplished and a nervous but determined looking Hawks standing behind him. “I thought I told you not to let him in,” you find yourself saying as you try to process what’s happening. Denki shrugs. “Seemed like you two could use a good chat,” he says before walking away. Hawks steps into the room and closes the door back behind him. “We need to talk. For real this time. I just.... Please give me a chance to explain or, or, to just prove to you that my feelings are real or something. Anything. Please,” he begs. Hawks has always been able to play you like a violin, hitting just the right notes to get your stubborn ass to bend, even if he doesn’t seem to realize it. A voice in the back of your head reminds you it’s doubtful he realizes considering all you’ve done is treat him cruelly since that tabloid came out. He deserves some of your ire. He doesn’t deserve all of it. “Don’t you think this is a conversation that should be had sober?” you ask, raising the half empty bottle of Cabernet for emphasis. “You just got off work a little while ago which means that’s the only bottle you’ve been working on. We both know it takes way more than half a bottle of wine to get you drunk,” he points out and he’s got you there. You’re out of excuses and honestly he probably does deserve a conversation. After all, Midoriya wasn’t wrong. You had no good reason to continue to deny Hawks at this point.

“Fine, let’s talk.”

Author’s Note: THIS HURT ME TO WRITE BUT WE OUT HERE. Hawks and (y/n)’s relationship is so complicated at this point and it’s interesting to write but it’s also hard and painful to write because you want them to be happy and in love but there is so much outside of them now that is involved in their relationship. Anyway suffer with me ig 🥲❤️

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Little Ceremonies: A Critical Role Fanfic

So I have a lot of feelings about Beau, and she has feelings too that she needs to work through. Honestly this fic just came from my desire to shake this girl and force her to talk about her issues with SOMEONE, literally anyone would do.

Alright BeauYashter fans who love a dash of hurt/comfort/angst/pining, come get your juice. Enjoy!

Read on AO3

Preview:

Before Beau almost fucking died she realized she didn't know what TJ's favorite color was. 

They had gotten attacked by some asshole bandits, which wouldn’t have been too big a deal if they also hadn’t had some wolves with them too. One of them was buddy buddy with animals Beau guessed. Things were going rough anyways, and Beau almost wasn’t surprised when she was full-body slammed by an orc and smashed her head on something hard. Another hit and she was out. So long, farewell, no one home, lights completely off unconscious. It sort of sucked, but it wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. This time felt different for some stupid reason having to do with her brother. 

It was a stupid fucking last thought before she went unconscious, but you can't help what springs to your mind in your last moments of consciousness. And that was it. She saw TJ's face in her mind as she came crashing down, as her vision wobbled and went grey at the edges like she was tripping balls again or it was being eaten in a haze of ash. She realized she didn't know TJ's favorite color. And then there was nothing for a long moment. It wasn't unlike falling asleep in the way that there was nothing. Most nights Beau was so exhausted that she didn’t have time for dreams. (The other times she dreamed of impossible things she could never admit but wanted so bad she wished she could break open her own skull to inspect and commit them to memory. But she wouldn’t admit those ever.)

And then, just as quickly, she was jolted away from the depths of her sleep. Divine light pierced the darkness that had settled quiet and peaceful over her like the waves from the ocean lapping at her toes. She saved me, Beau thought literally breathless, she-

"Beau!" Fjord gasped. Beau desperately tried not to give in to her disappointment. And then immediately she resisted the urge to slap herself because no, she shouldn’t be thinking it. It wasn’t any of those things and she shouldn’t be thinking that way. 

“Oh Beau!” Jester cried as she rushed over. Her hands were first-snow cold against Beau’s suddenly feverish skin as Fjord helped to settle Beau more firmly against Jester. “Oh I’m so sorry, I don’t have...I only have Healing Word prepared and…!” 

Beau felt another jolt of the divine spread through her at the brush of her fingers that fluttered like snowflakes. They felt good...Jester felt good. She was soft and even though she was washed with rain water and gore, somehow, her arms felt safe. Beau wanted to feel more. She wanted to sag against Jester, to melt into her arms and never leave-

“It’s okay,” Beau managed to croak, her ribs still didn’t feel great by any means. It was more like when Dairon had first knocked the shit out of her with her staff. But she was feeling far less...almost dead so it was a marked improvement at any rate. She could just file this away into the same place that she had put all her recent horrible traumatic encounters and everything would be fine. “Just...it’s alright, Jessie. I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay, you look like shit!” Jester said, sounding half angry and half breathlessly relieved. It just made everything hurt even more somehow, though Beau didn’t know how that was fucking possible because she felt like complete shit. 

“Sorry, I’m fresh out of healing,” Caduceus apologized, hauling a ghostly pale looking Caleb with both Yasha and Nott’s help. Caleb swayed in their arms, looking like a bloodless ghost that haunted the halls in a shitty novel that Jester might read them all. Beau hoped she didn’t look as bad as Caleb, though she didn’t have much hope. 

“I’ll be alright,” Beau promised, gritting her teeth and forcing her legs up. Pain was a constant bedfellow. Usually she liked pain, it helped her feel alive and grounded, but this was a pain that was ripping deeper within her at places that she was refusing to face. Not now, Beau ordered herself. You can fall apart later. Not now-!

“Beau no-”

“I’ve got it!” Beau snapped at Jester, desperate to get out of her grasp. She was crawling out of her fucking skin. Jester flinched, and Beau felt her blood curdling in her veins because why? Why had she done this? Why couldn’t she just be good to those she loved instead of ruining it every time? 

“Okay,” Jester said, quickly rearranging her face so that the hurt dwelled somewhere deep where Beau couldn’t see it any more. It made Beau want to grab something with her hands and rip it apart right there and then. 

“There should be the inn a mile or two away,” Fjord said, voice even and as always the steady captain in the storm as he referred to the map. Lining up the troops, focusing them on an achievable goal. Beau could have hugged him for this gentle understanding. 

“I can help you into the cart,” Yasha offered both Caleb and Beau, her eyes dark and drawn with worry. 

“Ja, please,” Caleb asked, as Yasha better arranged him on her arm with Veth’s help. Veth kept glancing at Beau and Beau wanted to scream at her to knock it off. It wouldn’t change anything, none of this would, and in fact it was only making it worse. But Beau had always considered herself to be the worst kind of coward, so instead of saying all of that she set her jaw.  

“I’m fine,” Beau said gruffly to everyone, no one, and herself, gripping her side. “I’ll be fine.” 

As they walked along, Beau could feel Veth’s gaze digging into her skin. She pointedly ignored it. 

“I’m sorry,” Fjord murmured to Beau as they walked. He reached an arm around her to steady her, and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly as he did. Beau half wanted to punch him, and half wanted to turn her head into his shoulder and cry. 

“Why are you sorry?” Beau snapped though it felt half-hearted. She had always had a hard time arguing with Fjord, and even as wounded and skittish as she was feeling she couldn’t muster real anger at him.  

“You know why,” Fjord said as he continued to look forward and help her without saying anything. 

Beau knew why, but it didn’t make it any easier. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

They had found the inn and with little ceremony they had separated out to their rooms for the night. It was the usual arrangement, but Beau felt anything but normal. 

She was thinking about TJ again, thinking about her feelings that were all over the place, thinking about the stupid pain in her side that refused to just dim enough for her to sleep. Eventually all of those things had curled together until any outside stimulus had her startled half out of her skin. 

Jester’s voice was quiet in the darkness of their room. It stabbed into Beau like that shitty dagger the bandit had stuck into her not so many hours prior. Beau was wide awake now, curled into her side. Her breath was drawn so tightly that she was afraid that something inside of her would snap. And maybe it should. Maybe things would be better if they did. Maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with Fjord’s quiet concern and Cad’s long looks, and the quick glancing gazes that Veth peppered against her skin like freezing rain. It was because everyone knew the secrets that Beau was so terrible at keeping...everyone except the girl who could miss that point but tell she wasn’t asleep from the irregularities of her breath in a dark room. It would be hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucking tragic. 

“ ‘m not mad,” Beau said, hoping her voice sounded sleepy and that was enough to discourage this conversation. Beau could hear Jester shifting again in the darkness, and new that hope was a dream to be dashed on the rocks with the coming tide. 

“If I did something wrong…” 

“You didn’t, Jessie,” Beau said, finally rolling over. She didn’t have her goggles on and so she could barely see in the darkness, but the lump she assumed was Jester moved in tandem with her. Beau had spent enough time gazing at her to know the curve of her horns...her artist’s hands...the freckles that dusted her skin and nose. Beau colored in the lines like she was a child, and didn’t need her sight to tell her what she would see. “I was just upset at having been stabbed. It hurt. And it was lame.” 

“It was a little lame,” Jester said, a half-hearted laugh in her throat, a pout forming on her mouth. 

“Not just a little,” Beau said, self-depreciation a comfortable skin to slip into. This was charted waters, this was safe with Jester. This is what she wanted, she told her errant heart. She wanted her heart and her friendship to be safe. If it was safe, there would be nothing precious to lose. Beau didn’t think she would be able to stand that. 

“A lot a bit then,” Jester corrected. “But I am sorry anyways I...I’ll try to be a better cleric I swear.” 

“You are already the greatest cleric,” Beau promised her. “After all, there aren’t many clerics who make their own gods.”

“The Traveler and I are cool like that,” Jester said and Beau could hear the smile on her voice. She could see it in her mind’s eyes, the way it drew across her face and just brightened her and everything around her. She was precious and sacred and Beau was none of those things. Not for me, a part of Beau cried with hot, childish tears. Not for me, never for me. Why would she ever want me? She is a vessel for a power greater than I can understand...why would she ever want someone who uses all their strength to simply not fall apart?

“Yeah, you guys are,” Beau said as she drew in her strength to sit up despite the way her muscles and bones protested. “I’m gonna go for a quick walk. I’ll be back.” 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jester asked her, sitting up suddenly. 

“No,” Beau said, doing her best to smile for Jester. After all, only one of them could really see in the dark. “I’ll be back.” 

“Alright...if you are sure,” Jester said, not sound happy about this arrangement. Just that was enough to almost send Beau back, but she didn’t. She steeled herself and moved forward instead. Beau fumbled for the door, groping for the knob in the darkness. She opened it and was out in the dark, empty hall. She almost made it all the way down the hall when the pain in her side forced her to stop. She crumbled against the wall, her eyes burning with tears that she refused to shed. She smacked her hand against the wall as she slid down, the dull ache doing nothing to distract her from the pain in her chest. No one else was there...it was far too late for anyone to be wandering the halls anyways, and Beau had never been more grateful to anything in her whole life. 

Make me understand, her mother had once whispered to her. Why can you not just behave? It will be so much easier, was what her mother hadn't said but it had been written all over her face. 

Marry a nice boy from a good family, have your dalliances quietly on the side, shit out kids because that's your job and it has worked for a million women before you and it can work for you. Why can't you just accept the things that are settled in front of you for the way they are, was what her father had meant when he refused to look at Tori as Beau was hauled from that jail cell that night. 

Beau felt the urge to cry again. How much more orderly...how much smaller was she going to be forced to make her feelings? She simply couldn't force them into any more boxes to be labeled and filed away when they were pounding at her ribcage...bleeding out all over her like a fresh wound. It was bad enough that she had fallen in love for the first woman who hadn't cringed at her touch, but now this? Where was the fucking justice in this? She was supposed to be made of stronger stuff than this, but apparently all she had done was gilded her ribcage without accounting for the things within it.

“Beau?” Yasha’s voice was quiet and worried as she peaked out of the door of the room she was sharing with Fjord and Caduceus. Her dark hair swept out like a curtain as she did, and Beau wanted nothing more than to tuck it behind her ear. Was Yasha’s hair soft? And though those thoughts were surely not practical at this moment, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking them. “Beau...are you alright?” 

Beau startled in spite of herself. She was usually so much better than this, but that night she was scraped from the bottom of a barrel. Yasha was standing in the hallway. Her figure cut imposingly, but as soon as she saw there was no danger she almost shrunk into herself as she usually did. Her shoulders rolled in on themselves in an attempt to be smaller...less obvious, despite the fact that such a thing was impossible. Beau had the urge to gather Yasha up in her arms and...no. It was bad enough that her heart was bleeding out for Jester, she didn’t need anything else confusing her already blurry perspective. 

And you almost threw it all away, and you think you deserve anything? What a joke, a vicious part of her snapped, tearing at her already shredded insides like she had swallowed daggers. You may as well just walk back to that hag in the woods and offer all of your happiness. 

Why couldn’t this just be a problem she punched away? It would make everything so much easier, Beau thought beyond frustrated with herself. She had more important things to worry about. She had almost died and left them behind, but she was crying over this? Pathetic. 

“My shitty cracked ribs fucking hurt,” Beau said sniffing as she angrily swiped her hand beneath her nose. Yasha looked down the hall, before settling next to Beau on the floor. Yasha held out her hand timidly, like Beau would shy away at the touch. When Beau instead settled her hand in Yasha’s they were both surprised. Beau felt Yasha’s magic move through her, hum against her skin the way that the scent of a thunderstorm carried in the wind on a summer night. This time, the pain substantially subsided, and Beau found she could breathe in deep and even hold it without her breath stuttering in her throat. Unfortunately, her breath caught on her jagged-edged sadness and she let out a half-sob half-chuckle. 

“Beau?”

“I’m sorry, Yasha,” Beau murmured and she settled her head against her knees. “It’s my fault, not yours.”  

“Being hurt is never fun,” Yasha observed, her expression smooth and revealing nothing. 

“No, being hurt fucking sucks and I hate it,” Beau said, not willing to admit she was talking about more than just her stupid ribs. From the look on Yasha’s face, she understood what she meant intimately. 

And of course Yasha did. Yasha wore her pain like a mantle of wings that spread out from her shoulder blades and cut across the sky. And she was beautiful for it. She was beautiful for how she continued to rise up and survive with such grace and fortitude, while Beau clawed and screamed and brought everyone else down with her. Beau broke the precious things in her life, while Yasha did everything she could to save them. And Yasha would understand...Beau knew she would. And the desire to spill everything was building in her throat hot and fast again. But with those feelings came others, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face any of them yet...not when Yasha’s eyes were the blue-violet of a twilight in the darkness. Their eyes met, and the moment was alive. 

“Are you tired?” Yasha asked softly. Her voice had always been quiet and hushed, almost like the sound of the wind through the grass. But now in the quiet and the dark the tones of her voice were resonating deep in the marrow of her bones. 

“Yeah...I think I’m just tired,” Beau admitted and just like that the moment was past. Tired of this. Tired of her traitorous heart that swung like a pendulum between her desires and didn’t settle. Tired of the fact her family could still hurt her even though she was done with them. Tired of this love that would only hurt her. Tired of knowing that she wouldn’t give her love up for anything regardless. Tired of herself. Tired of everything and nothing all at once and the fact that this just kept happening. She would have hoped that something would be different this time. 

“Rest then,” Yasha said, patting her own shoulder. “You can rest here, and I’ll keep you safe.”

You can’t, Beau wanted to say as she met Yasha’s knowing eyes. You shouldn’t. It’ll just hurt us all. There was a heart breaking there and Beau couldn’t understand it. Why? How could Yasha keep giving despite it all? Though maybe it shouldn’t be surprising, Yasha had always been able to carry her and Jester and everyone else.   

“Okay,” Beau said instead, leaning against Yasha gingerly. “Thank you, Yasha.”

“You are welcome Beau,” Yasha said quietly in return. 

And so Beau drifted off again, but this time, the darkness welcomed her warmly into its arms. 

[mostlycompetentwriter]

“Blessings”- A Domesticated Drabble

F/M Pairing: Y/N X Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Language...I guess?

Genre: Married Life AU, Parent AU

Note: This was a request from an anonymous user so I can’t tag them but here ya go!

I should have known better because it was one of those days teetering over the boundary of too perfect. I woke up next to Chan in bed, his hospital pager eerily silent, feeling as though I had been asleep for years. My body felt great, the sheets bundled around my waist because I was a notoriously bad bed partner, pulling the blankets further and further away from Chan as I sought additional warmth. But Chan didn’t seem to care, wearing nothing but boxer shorts as he remained statuesque-still with the heavy promise of a rare morning where he could sleep-in. I decided to leave Chan alone while I prepared breakfast, catching the attention of a still-groggy Felix who walked into the room with heavy eyes, grabbing a piece of toast before struggling back to his room. It was almost too peaceful, cooking alone in the kitchen with the company of my thoughts.

I fixed myself an omelet because I was feeling especially cheerful, flipping the eggs as the ingredients provided an alluring smell. Taking a seat at the counter, I started eating while scanning through my phone, excited to see a few promising emails swimming through the promotions tab. “Yogurt,” I murmured quietly, suddenly filled with an odd craving for the frozen treat.

Yet, just as quickly, my stomach suddenly started churning uncomfortably as if deciding that breakfast was a really bad idea. A wave of nausea washed over me like a profound warning before I was rushing to the bathroom. I tried to be as quiet as possible when I closed the door, dropping to my knees to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet, groaning as I tasted the foul substance on my tongue. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so sick, and I pressed my cheek against the cool surface of the floor, sweat pooling above my upper lip.

“Sweetie?” I heard Chan’s voice somewhere through my disoriented haze. “Are you okay?”

I swiped a hand across my face, flushing the toilet before pulling myself up against the sink. “I’m fine,” I tried to assure him, grimacing as I reached for my toothpaste.

“Are you sure?” Chan insisted and that’s when I knew that he must have heard my unfortunate bout of sickness. More than likely, every doctor instinct ingrained in him was demanding to assess my condition courtesy of endless training in college.

“I promise,” I said, closing my eyes against another passing pain of abdominal discomfort. 

“I’ll use Felix’s bathroom,” he said kindly and I thanked every possible deity for the inclusion of Chan in my life because he always understood when it was best to leave me alone.

“How about this one?” Minho asked loudly, holding up the pregnancy test for everyone in the whole damn store to see.

“You idiot,” I hissed at him, snatching the offending object away. “I don’t need everyone in here knowing!”

“Congratulations,” an elderly woman said to Minho, offering him a pat on the shoulder and a wink in my direction.

“We’re both excited,” Minho said to the woman before I dragged him further away since he insisted on embarrassing me.

“I hate you right now,” I said, slamming a few different tests on the counter, waiting for the cashier to process my order. 

“You definitely have the mood swing thing,” Minho commented.

“And you definitely have the asshole thing.”

“Why do we even have to do this?” Minho asked. “I’m sure Chan can just run some stupid tests or something.”

“Home tests are better for me right now,” I said, handing the cashier my debit card. “And Chan is a general doctor. I would set up an appointment with the OBGYN.”

“Are you planning to set up an appointment without him?” Minho asked with a gasp. “Can you film his reaction when he finds out?”

“I’m not trying to keep anything from him,” I snapped. “I need to be sure first before I go telling Chan that he knocked me up.”

“It’s not surprising, Y/N,” Minho said. “You told me that you stopped using Condoms, so what the hell did you expect?”

“It felt better that way,” I whined, snatching the grocery bag from the innocent cashier who was watching us with trepidation.

“Bad things always feel better for you,” Minho said, reaching into his jacket for a box of cigarettes. “See?”

“At least pregnancy won’t murder my lungs.”

“Yeah? But you’ll feel like shit,” Minho argued like the supportive best friend that he was. “Swollen feet, morning sickness, and carrying around an extra ten pounds? I’d rather lose my lungs.”

“Remind me again why I decided to call you this morning,” I lamented. 

“Because you weren’t going to ask Felix to shop pregnancy tests with you and Chan was unavailable?”

“That’s right,” I nodded, pausing next to my car. After my corvette was totally wrecked a year ago, Chan had decided that small cars just weren’t safe enough. This is why my ass had to drive around a Sienna Minivan now despite my protests.

“The Grandma car could use a fresh coat of paint,” Minho snickered and I sighed as I observed my bloated reflection in the side view mirror.

I held the pregnancy test up high, trying to catch it just right in the dim light of the bathroom. “Five minutes,” I murmured, re-checking the box to make sure I had read the instructions correctly. “What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?”

“Are you almost done?” I heard Minho’s voice from outside. “God, it can’t possibly take this long.”

“Will you come in?” I asked nervously because I was starting to really hate the fact that my urine on a stick was somehow supposed to determine a very important yes or no question.

“You’re still not pissing in there, are you?”

“Minho,” I snapped through the door. “Just get your ass inside!”

He twisted the doorknob, hesitantly looking inside to meet my glare. “Sorry,” he whispered, opening the door fully to join me. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” I said, trying to hand him the test but he quickly threw his hands up. 

“Didn’t you pee on that?”

“Grow the hell up,” I said, slamming the stick onto the counter. “It’s supposed to show a blue stripe if I’m pregnant.”

“So if there’s nothing, then we’re good?” he asked, squinting down at the device like he was suddenly far-sighted.

“Not necessarily,” I said, handing him the box. “Red if not pregnant.”

“But there’s nothing.”

“Thank you, asshole,” I grumbled. “Why do you think I brought you in?”

“You’re always dragging me into your problems, Y/N,” Minho said, shaking his head. “Just take another one I guess.”

I let out a groan. “I can’t spend all day taking pregnancy tests!”

“Is that so? Well, I could be with my girlfriend right now if I wasn't here with you,” Minho pointed out.

“Fine,” I muttered, grabbing a different test box.

After a series of failed observations, including an unfortunate incident in which Minho knocked a test into the toilet, we finally got a reading on a particularly expensive offering. “Pregnant,” Minho declared, glancing at me nervously. “Are you okay?”

“One more,” I insisted, but Minho reached out for my hand.

“Just go get tested, Y/N,” he said. “This will literally drive you insane.”

I whined at his words. “I don’t want to be pregnant right now, Minho. Chan and I haven’t planned for this!”

“Aren’t most pregnancies unplanned?” he grunted, swearing when I threw an empty test box at him. 

“They don’t have to be unplanned! A lot of couples talk about this with each other.”

“Wasn’t there an inherent agreement when you decided to let Chan fuck you raw?”

“You know what? Stop talking,” I said, shoving him out of the bathroom. “Go home to your girlfriend.”

“Call the doctor,” Minho retorted right before I slammed the door in his face.

The OBGYN office was way too bright. I squinted against the Halogen nightmare while fidgeting anxiously on the table, holding onto the hem of the oversized hospital gown they had loaned me to wear. A smaller cart sat next to bed offering a variety of dangerous tools that looked like they were meant for a serial killer’s house as opposed to a friendly office.

“Y/N?” an older woman greeted me, opening the door before locking it behind her. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine,” I said nervously, resisting the urge to jump out the window.

“Just relax,” the doctor said, scanning over a chart. “This is for pregnancy confirmation, then?”

“A possible pregnancy confirmation,” I said, and the doctor chuckled.

“I take it that this was unplanned?”

“Very much so.”

“Is that why the father is missing?”

I took a moment to glower at the doctor. “The father is missing because I don’t know if he’s actually a father yet. My husband works long hours at the ER. I didn’t want to bring him here if this turned out to be nothing.”

“Based on the symptoms you’ve described,” the doctor carried on as if ignoring my last rant. “And the home pregnancy test results, I don’t think you should expect negative lab work.”

I bit my lower lip, struggling to keep myself in check. In actuality, I wanted to scream at the nurse that she was definitely wrong because I did not want to be pregnant right now. “That’s why I’m here.”

The doctor nodded. “Go ahead and lean back, this shouldn’t take long.”

“Will it hurt?” I asked with a wince, slowly easing myself against the pillows.

“You shouldn’t feeling any pain,” the doctor replied, negotiating her stool to situate herself right between my open thighs. I had to force myself not to cover my exposed vagina, deciding that the doctor should spend no more than five minutes down there before I was forced to intervene. “Pull up your shirt for me,” she said, selecting one of the wands situated next to my bed.

I glanced at it suspiciously. “Is that going...inside?”

“It’s for your stomach,” she said, jerking an overhanging screen to eye-level. “I’m going to use a very small amount of what might look like jelly. It might feel cold on your skin.”

This warning still didn’t stop me from jerking in surprise when she placed the wand on my stomach, rubbing it over my skin with precision. “This is interesting.”

The doctor grinned. “After this, I’m going to need a urine sample as well.”

“Okay,” I managed, watching the screen with careful eyes, searching for any signs that there was something growing inside of me.

A few moments later she pulled back, removing her gloves with a snap. “All done.”

“Just like that?” I asked incredulously.

She offered me a smile. “That’s it.” 

“Holy shit,” I cursed, accepting the paper towels to swipe across the mess on my stomach.

“For your urine sample,” she said, offering me a sterile cup. 

I accepted it with a sigh. “How long will it take to get the results?”

“Not long,” she promised me with a wink.

I retreated into the adjoining bathroom after downing a few cups of water, waiting until I could finally accommodate her request before re-entering the room. “Here,” I said, offering her the sample.

“Great!” she chirped. “Your results will be ready shortly.”

I watched her leave before fanning a hand across my stomach. “Why did you choose now of all times?”

Silence greeted my words and I worriedly played with my wedding band while I waited impatiently for the doctor to return. In moments like this, I really missed having Chan at my side because he always knew the best ways to calm me down. Without his familiar presence, I was left succumbing to all of my nervous ticks including that nasty habit of picking at the skin around my cuticles. 

“Now I need a manicure,” I sighed, startling when the door abruptly opened to welcome my doctor back inside.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” she said, offering me a manila folder. “You’re pregnant. The scans are available for you inside that packet.”

The heavy revelation slowly settled in as my stomach churned uncomfortably.

“You’re quiet today,” Felix remarked, watching me over his bowl of popcorn. I couldn’t even remember what movie we had been watching.

“Tired,” I grumbled.

“I thought you had the afternoon off,” Felix scoffed. “Is it that hard answering phone calls?”

I glared at him. “Maybe it is.”

Felix held up his hands defensively, fingers glistening with a mixture of salt and butter. “Sorry for asking.”

In actuality, I couldn’t stop thinking about the scans sitting on top of the counter. There were a million different scenarios running around my head as I envisioned Chan’s reaction to the news. At this point, it was inevitable that I told him, no more hiding behind Minho as we experimented hopelessly with a bunch of stupid pregnancy tests. I had the confirmation in several successive scans and my heart was beating at an irregular pace against my chest.

Chan had called earlier to tell me that he was on his way home and I had immediately panicked. I had nothing prepared to say to him, except something stupid along the lines of “You see? This is what happens when you stop wearing condoms.” Then, I could shove those scans at his chest and hide away in my bedroom for the rest of the night.

But all rational thought completely failed me when I heard Chan’s key turning in the lock. “He’s home now,” Felix remarked, wiping his nasty hands on his jeans. “Maybe Chan can order us takeout.”

I slowly exhaled, watching my husband walk into the living room. “What have you guys been up to?”

I froze in place while Felix complained about the lack of suitable groceries in the refrigerator. “I ate a TV dinner for lunch, Chan,” Felix whined.

My husband rolled his eyes affectionately, glancing at me with concern. “Y/N?”

“I’m okay,” I assured him quickly, nervously wringing my hands together. “Can I show you something in the kitchen?”

“What did you break this time?” Chan joked, but his smile was gone as soon as he noticed my expression. “It’s never good when you look at me like that.”

“It’s...something,” I offered, leading a ponderous Chan into the kitchen with a nosy Felix trailing behind. I carefully picked up the scans from the table. “Chan,” I exhaled, gazing into his understanding eyes filled with adoration. But words were suddenly impossible and instead I shoved the manila folder at him. “Here.”

“What is it?” he asked with a trace of amusement, flipping open the cover to look at the first scan.

“It’s supposed to be a baby,” I replied, suddenly aware of Felix joining us in the kitchen.

“A baby?” Chan repeated, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Our baby?”

I nodded slowly. “I had a scan today.”

“We’re pregnant?” Chan asked, his smile growing wider with every subsequent confirmation. “We made a baby?”

“The sperm was good,” Felix nodded solemnly, taking the scans from an overjoyed Chan.

“Are you serious, Y/N?” he asked.

“I went to the doctor today,” I said. “The tests were all positive.”

“Why aren’t you more excited?” he asked, pulling me into his arms with careful consideration for my stomach.

I relaxed in his hold. “I’m nervous, Channie. Don’t you feel the same way?”

“Well, of course, I’m nervous,” Chan said, studying me carefully. “This is a big deal.”

I took in a deep breath. “We didn’t plan for this.”

“I know we didn’t,” Chan said, “but we should have anticipated the risks of dropping the condoms.”

“I hated those fuckers,” I complained. “Your cock feels better without them.”

Chan pulled me closer. “What did you expect, Y/N?”

“Married bliss for the rest of our lives?”

He chuckled. “Why can’t we have that with a kid?”

“Kids get in the way,” I said. “My parents had to send me to my neighbor's house just so that they could have quick sex every once in a while.”

“You’re worried that we won’t have sex anymore?” Chan asked in that ridiculous way of his that let me know I was being irrational.

“No,” I groaned, burying my face against the fabric of his t-shirt. “I’m worried that I’ll fuck everything up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I honestly look like I could be a mother?” I asked, stepping out of his arms. “How do you even take care of a baby?”

Chan sighed, reaching out for my hand which I tentatively allowed him to hold. “Sweetie, we’ll learn these things together. You act like you’re all alone and that’s not true at all. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“You’re not scared?” I asked, brushing my thumb across his hand.

“Of course I am,” he nodded. “But I’m also really excited. I think that’s how most new parents feel regardless of whether or not they planned for a baby.”

I didn’t know what to say, but I could always find solace in his eyes. At least until Felix ruined the moment. “You totally knocked her up, bro!”

Chan sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “That’s not helpful, Felix.”

“Sorry,” Felix mouthed, taking the scans into the dining room. Meanwhile, I simply allowed Chan to maintain his familiar grip on my hand because there was no better feeling in the entire world.

Nine months progressed at the slowest possible pace as if the conspiring universe was determined I should suffer from every possible pregnancy symptom imaginable. I was beginning to think I was doomed to suffer, complaining to Chan until he finally forced me to revisit my OBGYN. “The sickness is really bad,” he explained to my doctor while I just groaned on the bed.

“Let’s have a look,” my doctor suggested leading to the unanticipated revelation that I was carrying not one, but two kids inside of me.

“Twins?” Chan gasped, clapping his hands together like he had just won the jackpot lottery. Meanwhile, I suddenly lost all motivation to even move from my spot on the examination table. Apparently, pregnancy symptoms were more severe when carrying multiple children, and I had just about reached my breaking point until one glorious day when my water broke while I was beating the shit out of Felix at MarioKart.

“That’s gross, Y/N,” Felix complained until I threw my phone at him and demanded he call Chan.

By the time my husband got home, I had finished ordering Felix around, demanding he pack my bags for me until there were two suitcases instead of one. “Are you going on vacation, sweetie?” Chan asked to which I offered him my most wilting glare yet. His face immediately paled. “Right, let’s get you to the hospital.”

I was practically numb with pain by the time we were finally checked-in, leaving me groaning on a hospital bed while my idiotic doctor explained that I wasn’t dilated enough. “How the hell is that possible?” I growled.

“What about an Epidural?” he suggested.

“She doesn’t want that,” Chan insisted until I reached out to firmly crush his hand beneath mine.

“I do want that!” I snapped. “And I want it right now before I die!”

“Of course! Whatever you want, sweetie,” Chan assured me, fleeing my hospital room like he had just seen a ghost.

I tried to lean back in the bed, growing more and more irritated with the endless contractions. My doctor insisted that I wasn’t ready, but I would hate to see how much worse this could possibly get. In the meantime, Chan returned only moments later with Jisung faithfully by his side. “No,” I snarled, pointing at Jisung. “Do not let him anywhere near me with needles.”

Graciously, Chan knew better than to object to my vicious demands. 

“Oh fuck,” I sighed in relief when the pain slowly started to ease. “This is amazing.”

Chan grinned from his seat next to me. “Do you feel better now?”

“I feel like I’m in one of those Willie Wonka cartoons,” I said. “Channie, I think this is what Heaven is like.”

Chan seemed amused by my reaction. “Was it really that bad, sweetie?”

“I think the kids were trying to split me open,” I told him. “My entire body was at their mercy.”

“I don’t think it’s their fault,” Chan teased. “After all, it’s just your body’s way of preparing itself.”

“Those women in the movies are fucking liars, Chan,” I said. “Pregnancy is not fun and I don’t recommend it to anyone. 0 out of 5 stars.”

Chan couldn’t hold back his laughter, leaning forward to brush a few strands of sweat-caked hair out of my eyes. “It’ll be over soon, sweetie. Then, we can finally meet our twins.”

“I expect two Mozarts, Chan,” I said. “For all this pain and suffering, I want two child prodigies who can grow up and make us lots of money.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve been incubating our retirement fund?”

“Hell yes.”

The doctor’s arrival disrupted our moment. “Shall we try pushing now?”

“Please,” I practically begged him, more than ready to do whatever it might take to end this unnecessary suffering.

“Remember your breathing,” the doctor reminded me and I quickly sought Chan’s hand, gripping it tightly between sweaty fingers. Chan was always strong, but apparently, even he found his limits when his wife was steadily crushing his hand. “Sweetie, it hurts,” Chan said, but didn’t try to pull away when I only gripped even tighter, screaming out through clenched teeth.

And several hours later, I was completely spent, breathing hard as the room filled with the sounds of distinct crying. “Congratulations, Y/N,” the doctor said, but I was already falling asleep, too exhausted to stay awake any longer.

I was still tired, despite my two-night stay at the hospital, coming home surrounded by people who insisted they needed to be involved in some capacity. Chan helped me walk to our bedroom, hand wrapped securely around my waist. Meanwhile, someone had decided it was a good idea for Han Jisung to manage both baby carriers while Felix slowly drug my bags across the floor, complaining about their weight. “They’re so cute!” Jisung squealed, bouncing the carriers with far too much enthusiasm.

I gripped tightly to Chan’s collar. “Please save my children from Jisung.”

Chan nodded, eyes perfectly serious as he adjusted my blankets. “Give me a minute, sweetie, I’ll be right back.”

I groaned, reluctantly allowing him to leave the room. Of course, the pain was absolutely worth it because when I finally woke up, I was greeted to the sight of two adorable tiny babies looking up at me with wide, curious eyes. “I did this?” I immediately questioned which Chan found amusing.

“Good job, sweetie,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead.

“I guess you helped too,” I grumbled in return.

I was drawn out of my memory by the sudden appearance of Felix who wore a bright smile. “Jisung is offended that you don’t trust him.”

“I’m just being protective,” I said. “You have to take certain precautions when it involves Jisung.”

“Well, I think we might go out later,” Felix mused, lingering by the doorway. “Are you still out of it?”

“It’s not so bad now,” I reassured him. “I did just push two kids out of my vagina.”

“Don’t need the visual,” Felix shuddered, moving out of the way for Chan who walked into the room with both baby carriers in hand.

“Jisung had to go back to the hospital anyway,” Chan said. “I’ll put the twins down in their room.”

“Okay,” I agreed, eyes following the carriers until they disappeared from sight. 

“How can you already be whipped?” Felix asked. “I’ve never seen you this way.”

“My maternal instincts, I guess,” I offered in return, drowsiness slowly summoning a new urge to bury my face in the pillows.

Felix seemed to notice my dilemma. “Next time we play MarioKart, you can’t interrupt the game in the middle of a round.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

In the background, I could hear Felix talking to Chan before my husband was sitting next to me on the bed. “Try to get some sleep, sweetie,” he encouraged me, but I was already one step ahead of him.

Later that night, after several wonderful naps, I convinced Chan to help me walk to the twins’ room. “Just for a little while,” I pouted at him because Chan could never resist me.

“Alright,” he agreed. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

I stuck my tongue out at him while accepting his outstretched hand. “I probably won’t break.”

“It’s my job to protect you,” Chan said, ushering me close to his side as we slowly made the arduous trek to the bedroom at the end of the hallway. Eventually, when they were older, we planned to give them their own rooms. However, for the time being, I knew it would make things a lot easier if we could take care of them at the same time.

“Did Felix go out earlier?” I asked Chan as we passed by his room.

“He went out with Hyunjin and Jisung.”

“That’s a very dangerous combination,” I said.

“They know how to stay out of trouble,” Chan said, but I was already reminding my husband to call Felix later just in case Hyunjin tried to convince them to go to a strip club downtown.

“Here we go,” Chan said, nudging open the door with his foot, leading me inside as we navigated the darkened space. Chan kept a firm grip around my waist as we both looked down into their cribs. I remember when we first set up the beds when Chan kept screaming at Felix and Jisung because they couldn’t figure out the instructions. Eventually, I called over Minho and his friend Seungmin who were more adept at solving the complicated steps.

“We did it,” Chan whispered, sweet voice soothing in my ear.

I looked down at my twins and felt a burst of pride. “Yeah, we’re pretty fucking cool, right?”

“The coolest,” Chan agreed, leaning down for a kiss which I was more than willing to reciprocate.

[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! 

[anyu-blue]

Busy as a bee

~

*sigh*

I had this big long thing typed up.. it's all gone now. That's twice it's happened. Let's see if third time's the charm.

It was about my trying to figure out how to talk about the shit I've been going through without just dumping it all on someone and having it be totally unjustified too...

I'm mad at my dad. I'm mad at Tevs... I'm mad at myself.

Basically...I'm frustrated that I'm seen as so much lesser than everyone else.

I know it's like 'no you're not!! You only think you are!! They love you!!' ... I've been smacked both literally and figuratively for saying 'you guys treat me different/unfairly compared to x'... But.. gods at this point I. Just. CAN'T keep believing them or telling myself that when the evidence is right in front of me. I feel like I must have done something REALLY BAD and BIG for everyone to pull away so hard... But at the same time... I... Can't figure what it is or how. I've asked too, but the closet I've gotten to an answer is 'You're too much, Meek.'

I know I sorta... Became a worse recluse than I was (kinda I'm response to that. Trying so hard NOT to be too much)... But I kept telling and telling and telling I was available and offering what I could and more... I kept trying to deal- if I need something I would provide in return, just name the price... Did I forget or fail to follow through with something? Or something? No one can think of anything to tell me that didn't have a legitimate reason if ever I did (as good as or better than they have given me) that I shared up front and sometimes in advance with them. I even went into detail about what might happen if I am asked for help on a bad day- I tend to be a bit grumpy if woken up, but will still be there to help and will apologize for any harshness as I am going about it. I do that- but... Nothing.. and every single person has offered and practically forced (in W0lfie's case) all of the stuff I've asked for onto anyone but me. Need help finding/getting a good word in for work! Sure!! *Gives me links to indeed and Job service sites I'm already on/refuses to say my application is in the mix for positions at their workplaces or downright says they don't know if I'm a good worker even though I gave them my sick day and late count and all that fun stuff to pass off or downright doesn't tell me there's a good opening they know about*

Oh such-and-such is happy where they're at? So-and-so Can't hold a job because they keep quitting? *Gives information about good jobs and puts in a good word for them and sticks their neck out to get them hired.. is surprised when the offer is rejected by the family that says they're already okay with their current work or the unreliable friend they got hired quits*... Oh woe is me, I need help and there's no one to turn to!! *Refuses to call me knowing I have the day off, have my phone on, and have said I'm free that day... Asks literally every other person even the ones that demand payment for the job or can only do a part of it.. or just ends up doing it themselves by dropping another important obligation instead of calling me*

:(

The most common excuse for that last one is. 'oh I didn't want to make you more stressed.'

Um... I offered? I was here the whole time? What...?

*sigh*

I suppose I wouldn't be thinking of that stuff or be so upset by it all except for the fact I'm told these things and then I'm shown (and told) this last week people think I'm EXTREMELY lazy...

My dad and everyone else wants me to/thinks I should work more than 3 days a week... Or should get on disability if it's 'that hard.' Obviously they've never tried and seen THAT shit show... I have looked into it. Not only have I gotten treated like something to be disgusted by friends, family, medical professionals, and jobs alike (because it's oh so despicable to be on social security while young and spry- even though I have medically frail on my damn chart I'm apparently 'young and spry'- fuck you) when I've tried to pursue it, also being on it ISN'T a cake walk.. the restrictions. The WORK you have to do (and the work you can't do!! I'm right in the middle and technically can work too much for disability, but not enough for getting by on my own). The shit you have to go through... My own therapist told me some programs I could pursue would put me further behind where I am and I could possibly never get out... And she was the one that pushed me to get foodstamps, so it's not like she thinks they're hooey...

My dad thinks me working 3 days a week and refusing to do more lest I break down all the time is just.. lazy.. unfortunate... Stupid. He wants me to take all these homeowners and car buying and loan classes... Like I'm EVER going to be able to afford a single one of those things.. or think it's a good idea to throw down $25-$150 a pop for a class, let alone spend 8 hours taking one (I'd love to and think they're amazing things, but uh...)... Like somehow it'll 'convince' me to 'work harder'.

DUDE.

What.

The.

FUCK.

Is WRONG with you?!

I get it... I seriously can't work more days a week. If I do, I completely spiral out of control from the pressure as well as the guilt from spiraling and and.. you get the idea. I just do. I know I do. And I found my balance in 3 days on.

It's pretty easy to think 4 days off are, well.. 4 days off. 4 days to play. 4 days of freedom. But... I make things... I've made two blankets already. One more I'm working on.. usually AT work because I'm so busy. Birthday gifts. Christmas gifts. Holiday gifts. Trying to do commissions too to get more money in. Also.. em... I'm usually awake during the day to.. make appointments because my health is just a mess.. helping the friends that HAVE asked for help... Running errands because I can't at night (partly due to Covid changing everything's hours)... Or if I HAPPEN to get to.. I'm sleeping because I'm on a night schedule.. at night if anyone had need of me I'd be right there!! But guess what, THEY are sleeping. If I actually have a night off (which I haven't in nearly a month now because I CAN go over to my friend who needs help's house at 5 in the morning.. after I drop W0lfie off at work or I'd be there sooner.) I'm DOING things. Wednesday itself happens to be dedicated to FIXING my sleep schedule that I screwed doing everything my sisters need or want me to do during the day... It's up to ME to screw MY sleep so THEY can get or have what they need/want... Never mind they refuse (with legitimate reasons) to do the same for me (though I have legitimate reasons I could say no as well, but ooooh I'm the 'bad guy').

*rubs face* I'm so busy my mind and body is screaming at me in pain. Sooo lazy 🙄

But yet I'm shit because I refuse to work more.

Idk what it is, okay? I. Don't. Know. Maybe it's the fact that I'm Autistic and something overloads that hasn't been address like ever and so has only gotten worse (this is my guess), or the PTSD is doing something (my therapist's guess--- which not to derail but WHO ELSE IS IN THERAPY IN MY FAMILY?! you want to guess? That's right, NO ONE... No one is even TRYING to deal with theirs, and I don't just mean the pandemic. Big sister had it as bad, if not worse than I did. Refuses. Dad and step mom knows they do. Little sister scared. Little bro disinterested. 'There's no time' or 'costs too much' despite several having free sessions available to them via their job and Heath insurance- with multiple options- and everyone but little sister making more than they ever have in their lives on top of relying on others to pay any bills they can't keep up on... GRR).. or something else that just makes me become such a wreck. I hate it more than anyone else, you know.. because I have to live with it AND everyone telling me how lazy and lucky and entitled and how 'much' I am.

...

And you want to know what sparked all of this?

Tevs worked a 12+ hour day that ended up having me woken up by the cats that hadn't been fed.

Let me explain... Tevs and I got into it badly after I was continually deprived of sleep because she was working so much and blaming me for 'making' her deal with stuff at home I didn't even know were problems. She continued to explode and explode and treat W0lfie and I TERRIBLY after work as well AND continually told our other friends and family she so desperately needed a vacation and LESS work, and just kept pulling 10, 11, 13 hour days she didn't have to... All while not eating or drinking or having bathroom breaks... and I was DONE with it. I have and had offered to do more, just need to be directed on what needs to be done that I can do while they're asleep (duh) so she had no leg to stand on there... With the rest... She promised to not work more than 10 hour shifts (agreed upon because I have a 10hr shift at work with no breaks too) AND to either let us know in advance if she was going to be late so I could feed the cats, or have someone do SOMETHING to get the cats fed so they weren't deliberately jumping on me to wake me up... You know.. communicate a little more. Do a little better so she wasn't killing herself working. She promised.

Well..

Apparently (new information to me) a promise and Tevs giving her word.. are two different things. Promises don't matter. Giving her word had weight.

What. The. Fuck.

So MY getting upset this last week that not only was she working more than 10 hours... Not only did she not tell anyone about it.. not only did the cats come to wake me up (after I had FINALLY fallen asleep a short while before due to just how BUSY I was that day, and it was Wednesday 😭)... But she also REFUSED to speak to ANYONE and tell her where she was/that she was safe- completely and deliberately ghosting everyone... Until she showed up at my dad's house 12+ hours after the start of her shift in which she didn't eat, didn't drink, and didn't use the bathroom for the entirely duration..

...

I was told to back off. That my upset was unfounded. That I was just like our horrible mother and I was just trying to control her life.

Does that sound right to you?

It does to my dad. I would wager my step mom. All of their friends. And of course Tevs.

Nevermind that W0lfie was just as freaked out and upset... That she actually has a front row seat as to what I go through now/how hard I try to be kind and careful and respectful and relaxed and NOT controlling and finally gets it... And that she's now directly effected by all of it too... And agrees this is MESSED UP as hell...

No.

I'm shit. I need to work more. I need to move out and be on my own. I need to not rely on anyone. I am 'too much'.

Where did it all go wrong?

I now understand exactly why I felt and still do feel unloved. It's because of this stuff... I got smacked and told I was never alone or on my own.. that I had so much support and help... but.. well.. yes I was. My mind and abilities and more belittled or looked over in favor of others to bring up. Everyone is guilty of doing this to me in my family. I won't go into details because it's a lot. Many times.. many bad ones... Often I was told my reality wasn't the truth too. How is that supportive? I appreciate every bit they have ever done for me, but trying to point out where they fell (just like all people do).. I'm suddenly the most ungrateful thing ever.

My own parents rely on each other AND a third party (their son) to pay the bills... My dad's siblings both live with his parents... My step mom's family members live with each other and rely on one another to get bills paid.... Not a single one is forced or really suggested to go room with randos if they can't do it on their own. It was brought up to W0lfie that it's an option for her this last week... But guess fucking what she got that I didn't AS WELL as that.. "We'll always have a place for you here."

I did get that when I was younger and nearly kicked out for refusing to tell my mother I was Trans. I eventually caved, but, HA they didn't believe me. That mess was sorted out.. messily and I got to stay... Lucky me... Not to mention the fact that only NOW I might finally be able to just accept it and not closet myself for the sake of everyone else because I'm THAT done.. yay therapy. I'll accept being non-binary because I can never actually be a man the way anyone around me will ever accept or believe.. but I'm not accepting 'being a woman'. Screw you peeps XP

...

I don't get that kind of support because I'm their eyes.. I'm too much. Should be able to do it on my own. Too lazy. Too awful as Tevs has managed to paint by completely omitting important details.. I can't say things in a few words. I just can't. Because this is exactly what happens... But regardless.. that's all she ever shares. Just enough I'm a monster. I'm sick and tired of it.

Reminds me...

My dad and mom and the rest of our family would never get birthday gifts or holiday cards or anything if I wasn't around. Same with our siblings. I remember. I make. I remind. I push. But... They don't even know about that. About what I try to do for them that gets twisted to look like it's all Tev's doing because I often can't make it to deliver it myself... And when I do idk.. I guess I do it wrong or something because it's so... Blah of a response.. like they think I'm NOT responsible for it and just taking credit... That hurts. A LOT.

...

I'm going to try. One more time. Once more. With Tevs. Give her one more chance to make and keep her word. To not bulldoze and make excuses and talk me up like some sort of unreasonable monster if/when she doesn't... And one more chance for my parents to hear me out. Get the full story. Get my feelings and experiences in return. On Monday I might have a chance to lay it all out. Maybe. I want to try. And if I get the same treatment.. well.. I think they might just be cut out of my life if I finally make it out on my own like they want. (Hopefully something income based will open up for me.. hopefully... I'm considering looking into a different city altogether to well and truly get away from them.. but that would depend on getting a job too.. bluh)

Ah that's a another thing too though.. the thing is.. I CAN work. I CAN pull 7 days a week, 16 hour days without spiraling!!! Making. I am a crafter. If making dresses or cosplays or embroidering or making blankets or trinkets or... If I was able to do THAT.. I could work and work and work no problem... Maybe even drawing..

But with the stress of this job and my other obligations, I can barely touch those things to even get started... Stick in the rut.. and materials are so expensive if I need anything extra I hit a roadblock... Totally locked in... And it breaks my heart...

I'm not lazy... I'm in the wrong job 😞

[spookyspaghettisundae]

So Even Gods Can Die

Beeping. Revolving metallic sounds. Click. Computerized monitors. The light everywhere, blinding at first, then softening until his vision cleared. Click. Whirr. Click.

Bright light from the fluorescent tube overhead and daylight flooding in from a window. But it was not actually that bright. Click. It was his eyes slowly adjusting. The feeling of needles in his skin, taped down, and the plastic tubes hooked up to his nose to help him breathe.

Lips parched, throat dry. Click. When he swallowed, it felt like forcing down a lump of sand and lava. A woman sat in the room, and he did not recognize her. Click. But she looked at him, expectantly. Whirr.

A white box on the table next to the bed. Like one containing a cake. Click. The woman sitting in the room stared at him. The ominous white box stared at him. Click. Whirr.

It wasn’t his time yet. He refused to accept that. But between the woman and the box, he knew he was going to die.

Grit and sand clung to her clothes. Any spots of exposed skin featured myriads of cuts and scratches. Black rings of exhaustion lined her eyes, and her clothing looked like it had been mangled in a meat grinder.

The woman picked up a chart attached to the end of his bed and idly flipped through its pages. Click.

“Who are you?” he finally asked her.

She flapped the pages back up front and tossed the chart onto the foot of his bed. He watched but was too weak to protest. With delay, he registered that he couldn’t even feel it when the clipboard landed on his legs.

“I’m Kim. Here because we need you,” she said. Her words rolled out and sounded even more tired than she looked. Her eyes had a dull sheen, like she hadn’t slept in days or had taken some drugs, or practically had only caffeine in her veins.

Thump.

The white box on the table thumped again. It had moved half an inch. Although he had only seen it from the corner of his eye, he could have sworn that its walls had bent outwards when something thumped inside of it. Like there was a small animal trapped within.

“What’s in that box?” he asked. He lifted fingers, attached to a drip and some cables. Feeble, trembling softly as he tried to point at the gift box.

“Don’t worry about it; it’s got nothin’ to do with you. Or, well, maybe it doesn’t need to have anything to do with you,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. He had heard the threat implied in there.

He blinked—hard. Blinked again. Blinked so hard that it became painful.

The edges of his vision lost their blurriness. The fuzzy edges on everything straightened out—turned sharp. The clouds cleared from his memories.

His name was Gabriel. Gabriel understood his place in the world again. More powerful than his current state of being revealed. Even though his body had begun to betray him, he contained power beyond what normal mortal man could comprehend. More powerful than most of the wretches working in this hospital, or living in this pathetic city all around them.

A living god.

Or so he believed. Click.

“Cut the shit. What do you think you need? What do you hope to get from me?” Gabriel asked. Ordered. Every word he spoke hurt, as if each syllable rasped over his soft insides like sand paper.

“You don’t know us, but you may know Kevin,” Kim said. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. The plastic squeaked, the metal creaked.

Thump.

The box had moved closer yet again. Like something inside of it was trying to get closer.

“Don’t mind it. If you get upset, it gets more violent,” she commented.

They both peeled their eyes off of the innocuous white box of terror and their gazes met.

Click. Whirr.

Gabriel pondered for a second and then sneered. He knew Kevin, alright. Michael’s protege and worst nemesis.

The person who was going to bring everything down.

“We need to find him, help him return from the House,” she said.

Gabriel chuckled. The chuckle transformed into coughing after a few labored revolutions of the laugh, leading to him hacking and wheezing.

His body had truly reached its end, but he refused to let go. Two hundred years was a long time.

Once he had gathered himself and felt her burning stare on himself, he asked, “How long’s that motherfucker been in there?”

“Three months,” she replied.

Gabriel closed his eyes and mulled it over. Bad number.

THUMP.

He ignored it. Probably just a baby of an entity inside that box.

It was more important to figure out what he was dealing with here.

Click.

How he could kill this woman.

Gabriel uttered a string of profanities; with no power in it because of his failing lungs, but more than enough zeal to express his disgust. She listened to his every odious word. He gave it a rest after a solid half a minute of swearing.

Click. Whirr.

“Fuck him,” he finally concluded. “Can rot in that hellish Otherworld for all I care.”

“No,” Kim said. Resolute, like a cliff standing defiantly against the ocean’s waves.

“No?”

“No,” she repeated. The word crashed like thunder. It fed into a headache growing behind Gabriel’s forehead. She added, “Once he’s out of the House, he can finish his transformation.”

Gabriel glared at her. His eyes simmered with rage and his tear ducts burned, not capable of producing the salty fluid anymore. His flesh was weak. But he still had other means. Other power. Power this woman failed to notice.

She had made a mistake by coming here like this.

THUMP.

He couldn’t be sure about the white box, though. He pondered if he was underestimating it.

Resigned to his fate here, he knew this was going to be a brutal battle. Not quite as uneven as his current state looked.

“Falmaghorr,” he whispered. So feebly that it sounded like nonsense, or like he was having a stroke.

“What?” Kim asked.

Click.

“Nevermind,” he sighed. Either she was stupid or he had snuck that past her. “You know, right? That when he completes that damned transformation, the world ends?” he asked her.

“And a new one is born,” Kim spoke with reverence, incessantly staring into Gabriel’s eyes. Into his soul.

She was convinced. Had chosen a side in this war. Her words just now—a declaration. A war cry, delivered with the eerie calmness that only zealots can produce.

“For every dream that is dying, a new world is born,” Gabriel mused, reciting the old poem that his kind were wont to sing. He broke out into another chuckle, dry and sardonic. Erupting into coughs at the tail end once more.

THUMP.

Kim pulled a small silver box from her jacket pocket and opened it to show him something inside of it. A steel syringe that looked like it came from a different age. Weathered, old, scratched.

“You came for my blood?” he asked. “Ridiculous. You could have just—you didn’t need me to be awake for—”

He stopped choking on those words. It dawned on him.

Blood of a dying hierophant—a potent reagent. One with powerful symbolic tension. And like all things magick, one where the symbolic tension lies in just how literal it was.

“Can’t beat the reaper,” he sighed. “Nobody beats the reaper. All you do is entertain ‘im. And hope you get off easy when it’s time to punch your final card.”

Kim took the syringe into her hands, slipped her fingers into its metal loops, but rested the awful thing on her lap. Waited. She was waiting for the moment during which he died. Had she put something into his IV drip to slowly kill him? Was she going to smother him with a pillow?

“Nice speech, asshole. You’ve lived way past your expiration date. After all you’ve done—after all the things you’ve gone and done to people—I think you’re getting off easy. Real easy.”

“Yeah? How you gonna do me in, bitch?”

Click.

Kim’s tired face contorted. With painful slowness, accentuated by the exhaustion written all over her visage, she formed a wide smile.

Click. Whirr.

“I ain’t gonna do a damned thing. Your time’s up, you Rasputin son of a bitch. I have a friend who—well, let’s just say she just knows these things. You’re about to punch your final card—right about now.”

She checked her wristwatch—whether it was out of genuine curiosity or to emphasize her words did not matter. Gabriel felt the weight of time crushing down on him. In his mind, the clock’s arms ticked away, second by second, ever closer to his doom.

The door to the room opened and both their heads turned to behold the new arrival. Kim had whisked the syringe away into hiding, holding it inside her jacket, her entire fist buried in there in an uncomfortable position.

A nurse entered and walked around the bed. She placed a cup of water on the table next to Gabriel. In contrast to the bright and happy colors of her scrubs, the nurse’s head was just a cloud of shadows and tentacles. Despite her name tag identifying her as Beverly Winters, the demon’s name was Falmaghorr.

Kim couldn’t see it. Its power over human minds held true; the entity looked like a normal nurse to her. She even smiled at Gabriel’s servant before Falmaghorr left the room and left them alone again. He sensed his demonic servant’s presence hovering just outside, waiting for him to summon it to battle inside this tiny room.

To think that he, who had seen the rise and fall of empires, would be fighting for his life in such a tiny, sterile room.

Click.

He had no intention of letting this harlot easily take his blood.

“In one last act of defiance against nature, he hopes to transform into a woman,” Gabriel theorized. “Because only a woman can give birth, and only a woman can birth a new world. Is that the idea?”

Kim said nothing. She checked her wristwatch again. Pulled out the syringe.

“You’re out of your fucking minds,” he growled. He suppressed the urge to cough that came with it.

“Time to go, you old bastard.”

“Now,” he uttered, oozing with contempt.

The room’s door burst open and Falmaghorr stomped inside.

The white box exploded. A black fog roiled out from it, churning like oil on water, spreading like a flood, engulfing everything in a flash, continuing to gush out of what seemed to be a bottomless pit inside that tiny white box.

Not a cake emerged from it, but mouths. Eyes. Things that cackled, and gibbered, and gnashed their tiny little teeth. Falmaghorr was consumed within seconds, blood spraying all over the place.

Kim was bathed in blood and gore from the entity’s body being ripped to shreds, but leaning over Gabriel. He felt the needle only after it had ruptured the skin.

Even through the cacophony of alien voices, he could hear the sounds of the machines.

Click. Whirr.

Blood being drained. Kim getting one step closer to breaking the House wide open.

Gabriel screamed.

Even gods can die.

—Submitted by Wratts

[rin-recovery]

1 year clean and sober Chair (7/7/21)

I’m Katherine A grateful dual diagnosed Alcoholic. (Pause)

What it was like: I was born into a quiet dysfunctional family. I was placed in foster care when I was 2ish because of this. When we (my older sister and I) were placed back with our mom we moved across the U.S. from Massachusetts to Vancouver Washington because we had family here and I had what I thought was a normal up bringing, on the outside it looked like a normal low-income family, but my mom was very much present and involved in my education unlike most of the other kid’s parents who I hung out with. However, behind closed doors my family was falling apart. My grandpa who I looked at like a father was an alcoholic, would always have a beer in hand while driving to pick us up from school, my dad did not enter my life until after I was 6 or 7 years old and what I thought was normal discipline was not, long story short my childhood left my brain literally broken. As young as 5th grade I wanted to die and could not explain why that was always a thought. The school and one of my friends thought it was because my great grandpa who I was very close with had died that year, but I knew it was not the only reason. Starting at a young age my parents attempted to try and help us make good choices around alcohol. My parents train of thought was if they allowed drinking in the house, we would not go behind their backs and party, and for the most part it worked. So, I started drinking small amounts of alcohol around the age of 8. In middle school I started hanging around the wrong crowd and by high school I was a mess. My drinking progressed from small amounts to large very quickly during that time. My mental health was so bad that I missed a month of school in 10thgrade due to a suicide attempt. I was self-harming, drinking, running away and overdosing on Benadryl and over the counter sleep aid regularly that my mom finally told one of my teachers after he called about me crying and walking out of my 11th grade English class that if I was going to kill myself nothing anyone did for me was going to stop me. 12th grade I barely was able to graduate due to the amount of school I was skipping and if it were not for my English teacher staying after school to help me with my math, I would not have graduated at all. When my best friend died in an ATV accident the summer after we graduated, I lost the will to live and again ended up in the hospital for a week over a suicide attempt and had to drop out of college because I could not get the work done, I lost 2 scholarship because of it and would eventually lose financial aid due to 2 more dropouts due to my mental health. At the age of 20 I got married to someone I thought loved me for me, but I found out in a short period of time how wrong I was about him; however, it was too late to walk away, and no one intervened due to him looking and acting mentally sound and me being bat shit crazy on the outside but behind closed doors it was a different story. My drinking and wanting to die only grew worse because I was hating my life and could never do anything right by my then husband. The only time I was mostly sober was when I was pregnant, but I was still regularly self-harming during that time. I was a closet alcoholic and tried to control it around my 2 boys who I try to keep living for as well. 7 years of marriage full of domestic violence and a lot of other not so great things ended with him walking out the door 3 days after Christmas of 2017 with the threat that if I tried to get a divorce, he would make my life a living hell by taking the boys away and never letting me see them again. My drinking, self-harming and overdosing went off the chart because of the fear of my ex and I was going to the hospital or my current boyfriend was having to come out and find me at bus stops or walking around trying to either get picked up by random people or get to the I5 bridge to jump off of (this all happened after my kids were in bed and asleep and my mom was home) all while trying to get and hold down a job while also trying to take care of my 2 special needs boys during the day time. About 2

years ago I was diagnosed with D.I.D. (Dissociative identity disorder) so literally my brain is broken into about 46 known pieces as of right now. Life started making more sense however it fixed nothing. It only explained why I have little to no memory of growing up or anything that was or is overly stressful. My boyfriend was having his own problems with bad med management, so I helped him while pretending/not caring about my own drinking and using. He got better as I kept getting worse. I finally got a job doing peer support which I had been wanting to do for 4 years and was certified to do and started working in a treatment center. Long story short I started to feel like a fraud at work every day. I was telling the ladies how to better their lives and I was losing it every time I was not at work. So, after talking with my counselor, he referred me to a SUD program, and I went. I told my SUD counselor flat out that I would not go to any groups because of the work that I did, I just wanted vivitrol to control the urges that at this point were out of control. No A.A. for me because I did not want to run into people who might know me from work. Well, that did not work out so well. I relapsed July 5th. My SUD counselor told me to go to A.A. so I did. I found the only in person meeting at the time, which was here, and I made an effort to get to as many meetings as time would allow. I let fear stop me from asking anyone to be my sponsor (1 because there were not many women at the meetings I was going to because RBR had just reopened their noon meetings due to the shutdown and 2 I feared that my mental health was too bad for anyone to handle) I was sober because I held onto the message NO MATTER FUCKING WHAT WE DON’T DRINK or USE! My job changed from the treatment center to the crisis center and just being sober was taking a toll. The fighting between my boyfriend and I was at an all-time high and I was slowly getting to the point that either I needed to be dead or I would drink again so on Aug. 17th after a week filled with 2 suicide attempts and my first week working graveyard at the crisis center I went to the 7pm meeting, filled my heart with all the hope it could hold, went home and told my kids that I loved them, tucked them into bed, packed a bag and had my boyfriend take me to the psych hospital. On the drive I text a few women in this room to say where I was going and that when I got out, I would get a sponsor because every message I heard said get a sponsor and work the steps to get better and I really wanted to get better. A week later I got out of the hospital no longer wanting to die or drink. I prayed really hard to a Man that I struggled to talk to or believe in to point out a woman who could handle ALL of me, already kind of knowing the woman He had picked out because she had taken me to her church once and had called me out at a meeting for not having a sponsor yet. So, on Sep. 9th after 62 days clean and sober and 39 meetings I asked Danira to be our sponsor and she said yes. Well first I texted her on the 8th and asked because I had no idea how it worked and Danira also intimidated us, we talked on the 9th and then she said yes. I would love to tell you all that my life got better however that would be a lie. With 46 known alter/personalities and a large majority not wanting recovery this process has been really difficult but also very rewarding. From September to the end of October I was making progress in leaps and bounds but then we got covid and everything stopped in November. I could not get my vivitrol shot and I could not go to an in-person meeting. My brain stopped working, it reverted to survival. I held onto NO MATTER WHAT to try to make day to day work for us to not relapse. We stopped picking up the phone and started staying up late hours not moving so we did not do something stupid. We still were able to do our gratitude daily and were grateful for waking up without a relapse each and every day. I do not remember much from November to January besides, we kept saying WE DON’T DRINK OR USE NO

MATTER WHAT. We finally were able to get back to the meetings regularly and while no we do not talk a lot due to our brain not being able to hold coherent thoughts most of the time, we are still in the meeting. Standing to get our 6th and 9th month coins was one of the happiest moments in our life. Working the steps have been hard but we keep pushing through. Danira has not given up on us yet and we try to push ourselves to make her, my kids and boyfriend proud.

NO MATTER WHAT looks like when my youngest is losing it by screaming in our face or hurting me physically we do not get the damn bottle because it will not fix anything (despite what some think in our head). My kids have already been through so much of me being selfish with my drinking and rampage problems. They need their mom to get out of self and learn to be a better parent for them. NO MATTER WHAT looks like when I cannot sleep, or I am suffering from high physical pain I don’t get weed or pills to numb it all because it is a short fix that will make all the hard work, we put in all for nothing. We do not have another relapse or recovery in us, if we went out, we would never come back and that is not an option just ask Danira, I tried once it ended with her at my front door with backup. NO MATTER WHAT looks like when two of my sponsee sisters and sponsor shows up at my house after a night of crisis that I follow my sponsor’s directions to go back to the hospital to stay safe and come back to my baseline even when I do not want to because she will not gamble with our lives or my boys’ lives. Side note: because of God leading me to Danira and Danira never giving up on us and because I was able to mostly follow her direction to go back into the psych hospital again, not that I was given much of a choice in the matter, we now have a counselor that knows what they are talking about and is able to help us move forward in our recovery in both the mental and addiction aspects. NO MATTER WHAT is a statement I only knew in a bad way. I would say NO MATTER WHAT I was going to be dead by the time I was 16, 18, 20, 25,30 years old now I say NO MATTER WHAT we are going to keep going and keep fighting this fight because I have 2 little boys that need me. NO MATTER WHAT my ex does to me NO MATTER WHAT anyone does to me we do not need to drink or use to fix it despite what the others might think in the head.

So, to the newcomer I want to leave you with this message NO MATTER WHAT it takes it is a one day, one moment at a time program and it is spiritual progress not perfection, it is a “we” program not an “I” program and these men and women will stand with you to fight this disease as long as you let them in.

WE DON’T DRINK OR USE NO MATTER FUCKING WHAT!!

Thank you.

[shockcity]

DD #2 - orbiting planet matt

Rating: T 

Summary: attempts at befriending Matt Murdock fall rather flat.

Category: gen

Warnings: none

*denotes dialogue taken directly from the comics, and in this case all quotes belong to Bendis.

__________________________

1

“Are those for me?” Peter asks, mask turned toward the greasy bag of chili dogs. “It’s not my birthday.”

“It’s not mine either.” Matt grins at him. “Yet here you are.”

Peter climbs down from the flag pole and lands agilely next to the man in red. His stomach is grumbling. The hot dogs are from Joe’s, he thinks. “Joe’s?” he inquires.

“Joe’s,” says Matt. “Only the best.”

Peter is rummaging through the bag cheerfully until he remembers exactly who he’s talking to. He pauses and looks up, and Matt shrugs a little and says, “I need information.”

He’s not surprised, but he is a little hurt.

“Right,” he mutters, pulling up his mask so he can take a large bite of his chili dog. It’s delicious – Matt sure knows how to bribe a guy. “What’s up?”

“Heard you tangled with Mysterio recently,” Matt begins, and they talk shop for a bit as Peter inhales his food and quietly wonders if Matt ever takes a day off.

He’s certainly very dedicated, and Peter admires that dedication; Matt gets the job done. But he’s definitely a lone wolf for good reason, because working with Matt is not anyones idea of fun. Like at all. Ever.

For example: Peter will say, “right, let’s make a plan” and turn around and find Matt already beating on people. Or Peter will try to deescalate a situation – “there’s no need for violence,” he’d say, and instead Matt would be like, “fight me.”

It was exhausting.

And while civilians liked to call Matt the man without fear, most of the superhero community thought he was more like the man without tact.

“Thanks,” Matt says when he’s picked Peter’s brain to his satisfaction. He perches on the edge of the building, ready to swing back to Hell’s Kitchen.

“Hey,” Peter calls out before he can vanish. “I heard about Foggy.”

Matt tenses.

“How is he? How are you?”

Peter waits, and waits. And waits. Matt is silent and still, hanging on the edge of a skyscraper. He doesn’t turn to Peter and say, “yeah, thanks buddy,” or “yeah man, I’m wrecked” like a normal guy.

Instead he says, “I’ll be seeing you,” and disappears.

Peter likes that Matt makes his little blind jokes and knows that he’s a sucker for Joe’s chili dogs. Peter admires the mortal man that jumps off buildings and takes on ninjas and super soldiers and psychopaths. More than once, he’s wanted to be like Daredevil – fearless, honorable, persistent. Peter has known Matt Murdock for years; has fought with him, laughed with him, and mourned with him. He considers Matt his friend.

He just wishes he was sure it was mutual.

________

2

Luke finds Matt using a dumpster to prop himself up as he clutches his ribs. The ninjas are looming at the end of the alley, wary of fighting both Power Man and Daredevil. At least for now, anyway.

“Need help, Murdock? Looks like you could use a hand.”

Luke spends too much time with Danny, and he’s forgotten that Matt doesn’t have a sense of humor.

“What are you doing here?” Matt snaps, straightening with a wheeze. “I had it under control.”

He raises his hands up in mock defense. “I was only asking if you needed help, man.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Luke glares at him, despite the fact Matt won’t see it. “Yeah, alright. You get creamed by those ninjas and I’ll just stand here and watch. No skin off my back.”

“What are you doing here?”

He frowns. “I was looking for a friend…thought maybe we could help each other.”*

“I don’t need your help. Go back to Harlem.”

“Check your tone, man,” Luke warns him, frustrated, but after a moment he sighs. “C'mon, Matt,” he says.

Matt blows him off. “I’m fine. I’ve got this. I don’t come into your city and tell you how to do your job. What are you even doing in Hell’s Kitchen? Damn it!”

The ninjas have decided to attack while they are both distracted, and despite Matt’s snapping, he does need Luke’s help. They make quick work of it and then turn and face each other warily.

“Thanks,” Matt says, because he likes to be frustrating.

Luke looks at him and wishes he could write off Daredevil completely. They never get along – if it’s not Matt going off on Luke it’s Luke going off on Matt. They just don’t mesh. Jessica says it’s because they’re a lot alike. Luke thinks she’s crazy, but he loves her anyway.

“Whatever, man,” he mutters, peeved, and Matt turns and walks away.

Luke doesn’t call him back, even though he wants to. There’s a part of him that wants very much to be friends with Murdock, if only because he admires his strength. He’s not got powers like Luke, and he’s sure as hell not bulletproof, which makes Matt going out there and taking on villains that much more impressive. Luke can respect that.

“Whatever, man,” he says again, but he is talking to no one. Matt is gone.

He bets Murdock hears him anyway.

__________________

3

Danny doesn’t want to deal with Matt tonight. He feels bad for thinking it, but sometimes Matt is just, well…

Matt.

“You eat too much yakisoba.”

FYI, he thinks sarcastically, Daredevil knows private things about the general status of your body and is not afraid to use it.

“Please,” Danny groans. “I’m in pain.”

“You have indigestion, Danny,” Matt points out pitilessly. “Your blood pressure is off the charts. Have you considered eating something outside of the staple diet foods of a college freshman?”

He hates Matt, but he’s also amused by him because life sucks. “Master Izo eats it too,” he argues.

“Izo is also in my kitchen drinking grain alcohol.”

Danny only moans.

Matt sighs and walks out of the living room, leaving him to languish on the sofa. He’s tired of Izo’s stupid mission and Matt’s endless drama with the Hand. He wishes they would lay off Matt for once, and then maybe Matt would lay off him. It’s not very likely though, because he’s pretty sure Matt lives to judge people. Not to say Matt’s a bad guy, he’s just, well…

Matt.

“Here,” he says, startling Danny a little. “Try this.”

In Matt’s hand is a steaming cup of tea. Danny can smell lemon and honey and ginger, and his stomach gurgles hopefully. He takes the cup and sips at it, feeling the warmth travel down his throat and into his upset stomach. He sighs with relief.

“Thanks, Matt,” Danny tells him, smiling.

Matt smiles back.

“Sure,” he says. “But you really need to change your diet.”

He hates Matt so much.

_____________________

4

He left her for last.

It was infuriating and hurtful, and being infuriating and hurtful is something that Matt Murdock is very good at. It’s one of his worst character flaws, for sure.

He also has a lot of weird problems that Jessica just doesn’t have time for, and hang-ups she’s really not sure she wants to know about. But one of the things she doesknow about him, without a doubt, is that he’s freaking nuts.

But that’s not all, and Jessica was in the mood to shit talk, so:

First, there is no reason for all that self-flagellation.

“You need to get over yourself, Murdock,” she’d say. “Or just end it.”

This proved to be counterproductive, because Matt would then just whine about how Jessica was right; he was a horrible person, he didn’t deserve to live… blah blah blah. He wouldn’t even whine in the literal sense and show just a little weakness like a real human. Murdock had perfected the art of silent martyrdom. He lingered in the shadows in the rain on your roof, thinking about sacrifice and justice while regular people did their taxes and ate microwave dinners.

Fucking Matt Murdock.

Second of all, and most importantly – he was obviously crazy and needed help. Jessica liked to think she knew a lot about being fucked up, especially by traumatic shit. She had trust issues, and addictions, and nightmares. People had just really screwed her over in general. So she got Murdock more than most. Life had taken a huge shit on him, no mistake, and it didn’t seem to be getting any better. She felt bad for him, really, she did.

But he was also fucking crazy.

The whole dressing like the devil and beating the crap out of people was the first clue. Second was his extreme self-loathing. Jessica had thought she was self-destructive, but this guy was a mess.

Then there was the mood swings, and the general brooding sadness wafting off of him even on the good days. Murdock just really took the cake in the crazy competition.

Thirdly, lastly, finally:

It was unfair but despite all his flaws, Matt was actually very likable. In a way. Sort of. Jessica thought it was more like magnetism, or gravity (to the unfortunate bastards orbiting Planet Matt, she thought, good luck fuckers, have fun being pelted with comets made up of depression and guilt).  

When out of that scary suit (and holy shit was it fucking scary when he was looming at you in a dark alley threatening you with severe bodily harm), Matt dressed as a fancy, charming, smooth-talking lawyer that was stupidly attractive. She could admit that he wasn’t bad looking without embarrassment, because Jessica wasn’t blind. Unlike some people.

If you were unlucky enough to meet the Matt outside of both suits, then it was absolutely impossible to hate the guy no matter how much you wanted to. Jessica had once asked Nelson about the over-large hoodies and fuzzy socks, and all he’d done was groan.

The fact that Matt was so endearing made it hard to be angry with him.

“Fuck, Murdock!” she was currently screaming. “Everybody knows but me! Everybody fucking knows!”

Luke is standing in the corner looking zen. Matt is unintimidated because fuck him.

“You can’t say, ‘Hey, by the way, Jessica, being that you’re putting your life on the line for me, I think it’s only fair to tell you that I am, in fact, the vigilante known as Daredevil’?”*

“I’m Daredevil,” Matt says.

Jessica curses the day she met his stupid ass because Matt fucking Murdock is a headache she never asked for.

But got anyway. Fuck.

______________

5

There’s a chance she’s making a mistake. She’s got so many complicated exes that whenever she approaches one it’s always bound to go south eventually, so logic says that Natasha should avoid all of them. Or at least the ones she doesn’t work with.

But Matt is different. He’s always been different.

“You’re losing your touch, Murdock,” she jeers, melting out of the shadows as Matt startles. “You – ugh. Really?”

He definitely knew she was there. He’s a terrible actor, and he’s teasing her. This is a good sign, Natasha thinks, because when Matt’s sense of humor is healthy, it means he’s relatively healthy, and when he smiles like that it means he’s genuinely happy to see her. She’s timed this visit right, because sometimes he can’t stand company, and Natasha gets that.

She’s like that too.

“Are you just visiting or is this Fury?”

“Just visiting,” she says. “And maybe a little Fury. He’s not concerned with you right now, but he’s annoying me lately so…. Plus I had some PTO.”

He grins at her. “You know, you’re the only partner I ever really tolerated.”

“I know,” she smiles back.

They go out that night and beat up the low-lifes of Hell’s Kitchen. They dance together, as they’ve always done. His body is lithe and beautiful; twisting and turning in the sky as they swing from one corner to the next in both shadow and moonlight. Natasha loves this. Loves him. She always will.

After they fight, they have wine and leftover Thai on his living room floor in the early hours of the morning.

“Cat got your tongue?” she asks when he is silent for too long.

He hesitates. “I missed you,” he admits. “I missed this.”

She did too. “You could partner up,” she suggests, knowing he’ll refuse. Matt has only ever worked well with Natasha or Elektra. Everyone else expects him to be someone he’s not.

He doesn’t even say no; he just raises his eyebrows.

“'Tasha,” he begins, after shuffling through his noodles a bit. “Do you ever wish you’d stayed in San Francisco?”

“Yes,” she says immediately. “All the time.”

“Even with me?”

Life is unfair. Natasha thinks about how unfair it is and normally she just laughs. No one escapes misery, least of all the Black Widow. She is born for it, thrives in it, expects it wherever she goes. Misery and unfairness are old, old friends.

But when she thinks about what life did to Matt, she’s angry. People don’t get her, don’t understand her desire for solitude and difficulty with feelings. They ask her why she doesn’t care more, and, if they happen to really hate her – how she sleeps at night. They judge. They think she looks for love in all the wrong places. That she can fight well but can self-destruct better.

Everyone that meets Natasha has something to say.

But not Matt. They are ex-lovers. Sometimes they backslide and fall into bed together; sometimes she comes to him and holds him and listens to his soft breathing and steady heartbeat. They separate and join; separate and join. Two halves of a whole.

He is her friend, her confidante, her essential part. They don’t need to see each other everyday, hell, they might meet years from now and still be the same. Still close. Matt is something special to Natasha.

So when people don’t understand him – when they ask him to be a hero, as well as a perfect friend, a perfect spouse, a perfect man – she’s so angry. She’s furious. It’s unfair.

Solve your own problems, she wants to say. Leave him alone.

When they tell Matt that he brings trouble, that he involves them in bad things, that he frustrates them and makes being around him difficult, Natasha wants to beat them. Beat them dead.

So quit, she wants to yell. Why stick around and be unhappy? You’re hurting him. You don’t understand him. Go away.

But also: Don’t go. You’ll kill him if you go.

Sometimes life is unfair, and then sometimes some people just aren’t meant to be happy. Natasha and Matt are cursed with rotten luck. They ruin lives about as much as they save them.

But they love each other.

“Okay?” she asks, sitting on his floor barefoot with the moon as her only light.

“Okay,” he says, with his eyes closed.

___________________

6

Murdock fights like he’s dying. Like he’s been diagnosed with an incurable virus or terminal cancer or some shit. It’s one of those illnesses that makes him rabid before he dies – before he goes cold, turns white, and falls down dead. He’s seen it before. He’s known those men that live on the edge, but they damn well don’t live on it long.

A part of him feels like he’s bleeding out when Murdock pulls this shit.

“Choirboy, you’re so goddamn stupid,” he tells him. His gun is somewhere in the wreckage. The roof had fallen on them and it had gone flying along with the rest of Frank as Murdock tackled him to safety.

“Shut up, Frank. We need to get out of here.”

But Frank isn’t in a hurry. He likes that gun, and he’s gonna find it. He also enjoys doing the exact opposite of what Murdock wants just to piss him off.

“You go then,” he snaps when Murdock insists.

“You know I won’t.”

Frank knows. It’s the same for him. Frank couldn’t leave Murdock in danger even if he tried. Well, at least not in serious danger. They liked to hurt each other, sure, but they’d never go the distance and just end it. The Punisher and Daredevil will probably fight each other until the end of time, if villains or age doesn’t get to them first.

They’ve got a weird thing going on. Or Murdock does, at least. The guy once created his own super team in order to stalk Frank through New York. Then he purposely went into some fucked up cloak-portal to retrieve Frank all so he could arrest him. Then there was the numerous times Murdock pulled his ass out of the fire before or after beating the shit out of him.

But it wasn’t just Murdock. There was that whole Rikers thing, after all. What possessed him to get locked up with his nemesis, Frank will never know. He probably has a brain tumor or something. It’s the only reasonable explanation.

“Red, quit hovering,” he says, pulling his gun out of the rubble triumphantly. “I swear to god I’ll shoot you.”

“You’ll miss,” Murdock goads.

So of course Frank shoots at him, and then they’re fighting again, and he’s pretty sure the villain-of-the-week is bored watching them and has slunk off to bother Spider-Man instead.

Screw ‘em.

He and Murdock have a thing.

____________

7

My name is Ben Urich, he writes. And if I published this story I’d be rich.

How many times has he thought that? How many times has he written it down, thinking of how it would be his big break; how it would get him away from Jonah, and he’d be his own boss finally? Too many times, that’s the goddamn answer. Too many.

Ben’ll sit at his desk at the Bugle and stare at his computer screen and think, all I have to do is write: my name is Ben Urich, and Daredevil is my friend.

But he won’t. He won’t because he owes it to Matt to keep the parts of his life that Ben is allowed to see private. He owes it to Matt to not write the sensational story of their friendship. Of Daredevil. Of Matt’s roller-coaster of a life. Because Matt is his friend, even if it’s not mutual (Matt isn’t very good with people in general, or any sort of interpersonal relationships). So Ben backspaces and looks at his blank pages and writes a column about nothing for a measly 30 grand a year.

“Don’t do that,” Matt says, and takes his full pack of cigarettes and lobs it onto the next roof where it bounces off the edge and falls into a dumpster. Show off.

“If you’re wondering if I’ve heard anything on Fisk, I haven’t,” he tells Matt. “He’s underground, and it looks like he’ll stay that way for a while.”

“He does what you least expect,” Matt argues. “He’ll come out soon. You’ll need to be careful.”

Ben frowns. “Me? Last I heard it was you he was obsessed with killing.”

Matt is tense, but jittery. He’s like a live-wire when Fisk is shadowing him. Ben understands the feeling; he still has nightmares about Elektra.

“He wants me to suffer,” Matt explains. “He won’t just kill me. He wants to hurt me first. That means going after the people I care about.”

My name is Ben Urich, he thinks, mouth falling open. And I will never publish a bad word about my friend.

“Ok, I’ll, um, be careful. If you will.”

Matt smiles at him wryly, and retorts, “quit smoking and I will.”

He won’t. The smoking and the risk-taking will continue because that’s their dynamic. They face danger together.

Ben isn’t a hero; he’s honestly never thought he was anything but a journalist, and a mediocre one at that. But Matt is one of those people that will remain a legend for hundreds of years after he’s gone, and the only way that can happen is if his story is immortalized somehow. Ben can do that. That’s Ben’s job.

My name is Ben Urich, he plans to write, someday. And I’m friends with a real, live, legendary hero. You might know him.

His name is Matt Murdock.

__________________________

8

And then there’s Foggy.

They meet in college and become avocados at law (that’s an inside joke, pick up the autobiography for more information). When Foggy meets Matt the first thing he thinks is, wow, hot roommate. And holy shit he’s blind.

Foggy was kind of a dork in college, admittedly.

Matt isn’t a dork. He is suave, and handsome, and damned smart. He is killer with the ladies, what with his whole young Robert Redford thing going on, and can talk his way into bed with pretty much anyone (Foggy included, because he’s got eyes). For a blind dude, Matt also has an absolutely amazing body. And that ass….

Ok. So. When Foggy isn’t crushing on Matt, he can definitely admit that he’s also a teensy bit jealous.

He regrets that, because it takes two to tango and a lot of the problems he has with Matt aren’t all completely due to Matt’s particular brand of insanity. Foggy has insecurities, ok? And Matt is…

Matt.

But they are the best kind of friends, even when they are fighting. Foggy loves Matt, loves him like a brother, a friend; a platonic life-partner. He wants to grow old with Matt, and honestly can’t even imagine life without him and his masochistic bullshit.

But Foggy has moments where he’s not so sure that Matt feels the same. Moments when he feels useless, lesser – an annoying sidekick in the Daredevil saga. Moments when Matt is too bright for him to even look at. Why would Matt need Foggy? Was Foggy imagining a closeness that wasn’t there? Was he Matt’s best friend too?

Thing is, Matt had never really had a lot of friends. At least not since the accident that took his sight, and certainly not in the years that Foggy has known him. There are things about Matt that make being his friend very hard – some of which are obvious and some only Foggy knows.

It is the privilege of being ‘the best friend’, to know more about Matt than anyone else; which actually makes it easier to put up with Matt’s quirks. There are sucky reasons why Matt is the way he is, and Foggy does his best to know them all and keep them in mind.

Friendship, in particular, is a hard pill for Matt to swallow.

It takes Foggy ages to understand why. In college, he sort of thinks Matt treats people like they are a little bit stupid, and a lot beneath him (with the exception of Foggy, thankfully). After a few months of a very standoffish Matt, Foggy finally wins him over and they become good roommates, good friends, and then best friends. But it took time, and effort (mostly on Foggy’s part).

As their friendship grew, Foggy came to understand that the thing about Matt is that he assumes nothing. He assumes no kindness from strangers, no consideration from his elders, and no affection from his friends. He keeps his distance not because he feels that others aren’t worthy of his company, but because he thinks he is not worthy of theirs. Matt never expects people to love him.

But they did. They do. And Matt asks why, and Foggy says, because that’s just how it works, Matty.

One day Matt will understand this.

Foggy will make sure of it.

In the meantime, all Foggy has to do is stick by his friend. This is harder than it seems, because Matt is definitely the most complicated person he has ever met. His life is one tragedy after another, really, and Matt handles it with varying degrees of mania and depression. Foggy’s cancer, for instance, is hitting Matt pretty hard. It’s not very visible of course, but he knows his best friend, and while he initially worries that this will trigger Matt, it turns out okay in the end. Matt’s actually…doing ok.

Foggy knows it won’t last, but that’s not a problem, because he’s in it for the long haul, and with Matt, chaos is pretty much the rule. Everyone wanting to be friends with Matt should just get ready to be caught in it. No complaining. No take-backs.

Because that’s what happens when you orbit people like they’re planets; you either resign yourself to being on the outside looking in, or you collide, and become something new, and maybe better, than before.

——

+ 1

But Foggy is wrong. What he doesn’t know is that there’s a third option. That planets can orbit things too – that Matt in fact orbits Foggy, because Foggy is a thing called a star, and he is at the center of Matt’s universe.

One day Foggy will understand this.

Matt will make sure of it.