#its just sooo easy to read as well I think reading the 3 body problem series made me forget that fiction can be engagingly written lmaoo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dylanxmin · 4 years

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painkiller ∣ 3 ∣ J.HS

breakups are habitual, ordinary maybe even easy for some other people, and maybe it could be easy for you, too, if you haven’t been dumped by your boyfriend after finding out that you were pregnant. no, it wasn’t easy even a bit. and a stranger who wants to be your side doesn’t make this all easy for you, at all.

pairing; jung hoseok x reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, pregnancy au, strangers to lovers au, single!mom au, slice of life au,,

warnings; angst, swearings, mention of sexual intercourse, bratty taetae, bratty jimin bc why not:), y/n doesn’t like kids?, sorry but unedited:(

word count; 11k+

rating; nc17

a/n; e-yooo? yeah, i take a long, loong break even without wanting it. but can I blame my life and all the thing I tried to handle? (and clearly failing lol),, well, i wasn’t suppose to post this episode now, but I pushed myself and tried to give it a chance and luckily, I finished this episode!! yey!! sorry for being the worst writer ever on this site, but pls don’t hate me, lol. sooo maybe feedbacks?,, love y’all, thanks for reading it!! ♡

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Jung Hoseok is the man of hope. He and everybody knows it. But are they okay with this? Maybe most of his friends and family members were okay with this but among them, Kim Seokjin didn't like how he always tried to be helpful and all. He wouldn't have any problems with Hoseok being like that unless he wasn't all over you. Hoseok never admits it, but he knows it. Unfortunately, he knew him well enough to understand how he feels from scanning his acts and looks around you. And Seokjin will do the best thing by opening the topic of you in front of his other friends because then, he would have nowhere to hide.

''Well, I don't know that but I'm saying this. That woman hates me.'' Jungkook let out a big sigh, the sight of the red-haired middle-aged teacher scaring the hell out of him, sending shivers to his neck. He wasn't the smartest one to figure out things easily, but he knew it. Maybe the way she sizes him up bleakly, or the way her mouth crinkles in disgust. Or maybe even the way she calls his name like she was spitting. Jungkook was sure, his teacher was hating him. ''I'll never graduate because of her...''

''Okay, first of all, stop being all gloomy about this and think.'' Jimin snaps his fingers before continuing to talk, ''maybe there is one other way to get on well with her,''

''Oh my god. Shut that filthy mouth of yours!'' Jungkook covers his ear, physically abhors from what his friend just implied. ''I would never do... that,''

''Jungkook you know who is not going to work as a nurse in a hospital?'' Jin tilts his brows, secretly pitying the boy who has red cheeks in front of him. ''perverts like him,''

''Oh, c'mon,'' Jimin whined, staring at the pointed finger with a knot between his brows. ''I said what everybody was thinking. Blame me all you want but you were thinking like me!''

Hoseok giggles while watching the way his friends tearing each other apart with their stares, enjoying the chaos more than he should. Probably the drinks he had just hit his head. He poured himself another one while Jin got red because of all the yell he did to Jimin, and the poor youngest watching them with rounded doe eyes.

''I see you are having a great time over there,'' the tone of his friend alarmed Hoseok, he acknowledged that he is the next target of his. So he holds his arms up, his pupils dilated from the fear he feels. ''Hey... what did I do to earn that look?''

Jimin's little 'o's filling the room while darting his eyes over Jin and Hoseok, happy to see how tables have turned. The youngest staring his hyungs curiously.

''So you say that you did nothing wrong?'' Jin crosses arms above his chest, cock his head aside. ''Nothing?'' he asks once again to prevent his friends from attempting to deny him. Light tension fills the room while they stare at each other in silence.

''He is talking about the patient of his, dummy,'' Jimin can't wait a little longer and talks before Hoseok says something. He lifts an eyebrow, trying to understand what his friend was talking about. His 'o' shaped mouth leaves its place to a pout. ''What patient?''

Hoseok asks but deeply knows who Jin was referring to, but he wants to deny all he can. Wouldn't want to believe that he was being that obvious in front of his friend and also his co-worker. His heart race goes high, can't believe how unprofessional he looked. If Hoseok ever wanted to disappear from somewhere, it wasn't the time where his pants decided to leave his body and him staring his first crush in his pink underwear. After memories of the first grade fill his mind, Hoseok's face goes even redder than ever.

''You know 'what' patient I'm talking about Hoseok,'' the oldest rolls his eyes, his nose crinkles in shame after seeing the useless attempts of his friend. He is the second oldest in this group after Jin, yet he looked like a three years old boy. ''I'm talking about Y/N, saying it in case you try not to understand once again, for god sakes Hoseok...'' Jin lets a big sigh, shaking his head earnestly.

When a pair of sweat drips occurs in his forehead, Hoseok uses the back of his hand to wipe. Even though he tries hard not to be obvious while dripping anxiety sweats, everyone in the room can regardable as a smart man, plus they were knowing him for a long time so it was useless for Hoseok to try to act cool. He lets a little gasp, pouting, ''Yeah, Y/N. She... she looks like a good person. Yeah..''

''Good enough to makes you want to slide in her pants?'' Hoseok gasps dramatically, facing Jimin's big grin with a hand on his chest. He could die from embarrassment.

''Jimin-ah! Stop talking nonsense.'' Jimin's hand wraps around his shoulder, rubbing the spot where his hyung just put a punch, it hurts enough to make him regret what he said but he can't control his tongue when he is with them and the alcohol in his veins. ''Don't make me yell again. I'm working tomorrow,''

Jimin's knitted brows start to ease, while his grin finds its place on his lips. But he shifts from where he sits, abstaining from hyung's punch before saying what he has in his mind. ''Does Y/N have an appointment tomorrow?'' he sizes the man in dark hair, flushed pink cheeks in joy. Hoseok doesn't want to look curious and tries to hold his body stable, not moving a muscle or landing an eye on Jin. But he is burning in curiosity, his fingertips numb with the memory of him touching, patting your arm fills in his mind.

The heated body, radiating too much agony. And for some reason, he can't quite understand, but he knows that he hates to see you like that. How many times did he see you before, three? In every one of them, you looked burned out, terrified. He doesn't know what he hates the most. The sorrow in your eyes or the way you startled in every situation. He doesn't know, nor he understands, put logic in it. But he wants to make sure of your well being. Not knowing you or you being his friend's patient won't stop him, he knows it for sure. Unless you want him to stop.

''It's not that scary, right hyung?'' with the poke on his shoulder, Hoseok tears from his thoughts, and you. But little did you know, the image of your bright stare in the hospital exit never leaves Hoseok's mind. Haunts him every minute.

''R-right, not that scary,'' Hoseok nods while the thought of you being a witch wanders on his mind. He is sure that he got caught up in your spell.

How many times can a person make mistakes? Does it have any statistics, or it's up to that person's imbecility? If you try to count the mistakes you made, you probably would drown under them like a used chocolate packet. But thinking about past mistakes could not give anything in return. Therefore, you focused on today and the days that were waiting for you.

Searching on the internet about pregnancy, reading all the comments about it didn't help you the way you want. Moreover, it just turned you into a confused wreck. To be more clear, you were looking at how a pregnant woman feels about it, and if you were making a mistake for not choosing abortion. It didn't help because they all wrote how good to be pregnant and being a mother. How they felt amazing and the special bond between them and their babies.

The one bond you couldn't feel for a particular reason.

They all wanted to be a mother, thinking about this a lot and then deciding the time they want. And the ones who got pregnant by accident or without wanting at first, get used to all the hardship with their partner unlike you.

It was useless, and just remembered how lonely you are. So you had to close the laptop before you broke it. Thanks to your pregnancy brain, you never felt this unstable in your life. It was being on a roller coaster with never-ending ups and downs. One second, you were feeling above the clouds, happiest woman ever, and then bam, something just snaps and you can't ease the need to break something. Preferably someone's neck.

''Yah! From earth to the woman who is drooling,'' when Taehyung snaps his finger on your face, you flinch with the sudden move. Tearing yourself from your thoughts, you size the lovely boys who are staring at your face. ''What were you thinking that deeply?''

''And use this. Geez,'' taking the white napkin from Namjoon's hand, you push it to your drooling chin. It was surprising how much saliva your body produces. Almost equal to a Lama. ''It was nothing. Just... just thinking about work and stuff, you know,''

Namjoon tsks, lifting his brows in disbelief. ''And I should believe this?'' you shrug one shoulder, throwing the napkin on the table after folding in your palm. You also read about pregnancy drooling. At first, you did not believe it, but as you can see how much you do it was impossible not to believe. ''Believe it or not, it's the truth I'm telling you.''

''Aish... stubborn as always,'' Taehyung rolls his eyes at you, pulling his eyes from you to land on Yoongi who sits right beside you. ''Are we watching the movie as we are all together and no work tomorrow?'' he sizes you all, eyes gleaming with expectations.

''The one you never shut your mouth about?'' Yoongi asks, showing how he got sick of his countless insists to watch a certain movie with them because he was the chicken in the group. ''It's fine by me but is it okay to watch scary movies during pregnancy?'' he continues after Taehyung nods in excitement, but once Yoongi points at the elephant in the room, his mood visibly fades.

''I don't think so,'' guessed as the elephant in the room, ''They never said anything about it. Both Seokjin and the internet so yeah, why not. Let's get over with it,'' you waved your hand, trying not to turn this into something big.

When Taehyung wiggles his body in weal, Yoongi scoots over, landing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you close. ''You can always hug me if you feel too scared, you know?'' he grins, patting you on the shoulder. The daringness of the boy always manages to shock you, leave you speechless. But Namjoon acts before you can say anything, ''If she can't find you, there is always another man who waits for her. Right, Y/N?'' he made the effort to sound sneering. You give the finger as a response, but he finds it amusing.

''Wait-Who are you talking about? Yourself?'' the ash-blonde haired man's eyes go wide, brows tilted. Pout on the lips looks adoring on him, as cheeks get even more fluffy. You want to laugh but you cover your mouth with your hand before sending menacing eyes at Namjoon.

''Huh. No, aish... no way. I'm telling this one last time, she is not my type. Sorry, honey but I'm talking about Damian. The man who always tries to get in your pants, remember?'' You shush him off immediately. The level of restraining you had against your anger getting lower by the unabashed smile he sends at you.

''He is not trying...'' as everyone knew how Damian treated you, always tried to do something for you, you did not feel the need to talk back. Teahyung laughs while Namjoon fills his mouth with the cupcake he bought for you. There is no need to say he ate half of them.

''That man waits on a leash for you, and don’t even fight me on this. You know that.'' Namjoon said, his voice sounded hoarse because of the cupcake he was rolling in his mouth.

''I agree with Namjoon-ah on this. I saw it with my bare eyes, he is so whipped for you.'' Taehyung backs up, leaning to steal a cupcake from the plate. Even though you know they were right, you didn't want to talk about him anymore. He had a thing for you or not, either way, you didn't want to think about a man in this circumstance.

''He can wait all he wants, but we all know this pretty lady only has one man in his heart,'' when he gets sick of the topic and hearing the name of a man his friend's talking about, he decides to step in. Yoongi suppresses you on his chest tighter, wrapping you with his warm arms. ''And that man is me, right?''

Humming at his question, you wrap your arms around him and let yourself find comfort in his soothing affection.

The four of you grow together, got more and more close in time, but contrary to Namjoon and Taehyung friendship it was different with Yoongi. You two met when you both had a bad breakup, and were suffering yourself every day. So, your relationship took a different path after a while, it turned into something more platonic. Neither of you had feelings towards each other but finding comfort and serenity in one another company. It wasn't anything physical if you don't count the comfy hugs, tiny kisses, and holding hands when one of you needed it.

It happened only when you two felt lonely at the same time, and never crossed the line of friendship. It was a harmless, tiny platonic relationship, and you both loved the way it's going.

You squish yourself deeper in Yoongi's hold when Taehyung started the scary movie. Between Taehyung's screams and Namjoon's criticisms, you giggled when they started to bicker with each other. And in moments like this, you felt extremely happy. Thankful for having them, the chosen family of yours. It was a great way to have a break from feeling miserable and lifeless.

‘‘Not right for god sake! I said left, yes, a fucking left!’’ you scream at the man who drives, knowing your words sound harsh, you couldn’t help but not caring a bit as the pain in your inguinal area disturbs you. Yet, your screams and constant curses won’t help the redhead to drive decently, or not miss a turn. Trembling hands help him as much as you while he drips red sweat from his forehead. ‘‘Okay, okay… Can you not shout and leave my eardrum alone. Chill a little woman, geez…’’

‘‘Have this burning feeling between your legs, and then try to tell me to shut my mouth. Dickhead!’’ You didn’t know why but you were sure of having a urinal affection that tries to kill you for sure. It started two days ago but it only annoyed you while peeing, but after a while it started ache without even landing your back on the toilet. You could only crawl your legs and press them together to abstain from the pain, yet it was useless.

Taehyung, the lucky man who is driving you to your appointment, wipes the sweat on his forehead, breathing out from his nostrils in annoyance. ‘‘Sure. I won’t forget that,’’ he snaps back, rolls his eyes at you. His grip on the wheel loose after a while, as he doesn’t want to turn this situation even harder for you. Peeking an eye on you, he decides to melt the ice between you and himself. One hand on the wheel, other reaches out and holds yours tightly, and puts a boxy smile on his face. ‘‘Just hang a little okay? We are almost there.’’ Even though you want to spit on his face one second ago, with the sudden affection your heart decides to melt under his caring gaze.

You will never get used to these abrupt ups and downs. Not in a million years.

‘‘Well, I’m not giving birth, don’t I? At least, yet,’’ he giggles, shoulders move a bit with the vibration of his laugh. Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t decline your call when you desperately called him after Yoongi, as you knew you couldn’t handle driving a car in these situations, and taxi drivers always get on your nerves so using them with these hormones wouldn’t end well. Taehyung took the savior role and didn’t lose himself even though he had enough of your filthy mouth, at least he was still driving you to hospital. Not dumping you on the road even though he considered this for a minute.

‘‘Want to wait for me to park the car or meet you there?’’ he cuts your thoughts while pulling the car in front of the entry. Moving swiftly, you open the door and almost run to the elevators after telling him a simple ‘there’, leaving him behind. Heading to the elevator, you act like you are not having the thought of the man who has a heart-shaped smile. You didn’t even know his name, as you trick yourself into this idea. You press the button after entering the grey elevator with a couple of people, two of them step out with you on the third floor, heading to a different direction.

While you were walking to your doctor office, for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel heavy on the heart. Not that you were not anxious, but it was different now. The ball of sweats didn’t crept towards your forehead, heart wasn’t beating like it was going to explode, or the way your eyelids stayed dry. Normally they would go puffy from wetness by now. But here you are, standing inches away from Doctor Kim’s door, and not having a slight terror beating on your throat.

This is a first for you. And probably for your doctor too as he always witnessed your breakdowns. What a pathetic loser, he must think about you, as you did think just like that.

‘‘Welcome, Y/N,’’ Doctor Kim reacts by standing up after seeing you, holding his hand up to greet you. You couldn’t help not to mirror his smile, squeezing his hand with a pleased smile, happy to see him. ‘‘You look good. Things have been going good, I guess?’’ he asks, pulling his hand to gesture you to sit in your usual place. For a second, you stay silent, not knowing what to say as you didn’t want to lie for some reason. Knowing he is always caring and sweet towards his patients, he still manages to make you feel special in a way. Probably thinking dumbly, but you feel close to this man, and wanted to share the truths. Even though you were not sure if things have been going good, or the total opposite. Well, you were still dealing with pregnancy hormones, morning sickness, and constant urinal issues - ignoring the unwanted pregnancy -, but you can say you were more optimistic these days? You didn’t know, had no idea…

Sitting on the black couch where he gestured, you bob your head, gathering your thoughts. ‘‘To be honest, I don’t know how I feel. You know about the pregnancy mind and emotions. I think I’m trying to be better,’’ he gives a polite smile, white pearls appear behind his lips. ‘‘Oh, that’s good news. At least we are trying to overcome the negativities, huh?’’ you giggle, nodding while your heart warmed with the way he mentions ‘we’. Not throwing you under the bus, but also counting himself in, easing your anxiety day by day. You found yourself lucky.

‘‘So, painful urinates.’’ his expression changes in a minute to a professional doctor he is from a friendly one. Eying the papers for a couple of minutes, he holds out a tiny paper to you before adding, ‘‘Let’s have a urine test, first.’’ he smiles again, and informs you about the floor you should go to.

You already hate taking these tests, have to pee in a cup and all the humiliation you felt after holding it in your hand in the corridor, in front of all those people. Like it wasn’t enough, you couldn’t drop a little drip in a damn cup. Exhaling the air in your lungs, you wipe the sweats from your forehead. Of course, nothing will work in the way you wanted, have to drive you crazy before. ‘‘Why, why, why exactly I can’t pee?’’ you groaned, lifting your pants and pulling the zip before washing your hands two times - because who would wash one time -, and you exit from the toilet to meet with your friend. ‘‘I can’t pee,’’ you sat in defeat, shoulders dropped dead on your body, and you watched your friend’s laughs and snorts that filled the corridor. At least one of you had fun today…

‘‘You look all pouty and teary just because you can’t pee?’’ he hits his knee with one hand, lips reaching from ear to ear, while you eye him with a crabby gaze. This man wants a punch. ‘‘Ohh… God, you are so cute,’’ he continues to giggle while arms pull you into a hug, one kiss lands on your hair. Then, he informs you to wait for him, and leaves you there to overthink. It’s funny how life treats you sometimes, when you think. You literally wake up every hour to pee from your comfy bed, but when it’s come to an important task, your urinal system decides not to do the thing that it does for a thousand times a day. Hah, funny! Not that you are surprised, though. Looking at your past, nothing came easy, hence, never left without making a big fuss. You did get used to all the trembling mess in your life, but all you wanted was to pee without having a meltdown. Is it too much to ask? Aish… just when you thought everything going alright, not suffocating you with handicaps on your way and such things like-

‘‘For a person who holds a plastic cup, you look very sad.’’ a honeyed giggle interrupts your overthinking, forcing your attention on itself. And with a slight surprised gaze, you had nothing to do other than facing the oh so familiar sound. ‘‘Do you need help?’’

‘‘With this?’’ you hold the cup high, now surprised more than before. Watching the man giggle visibly, after seeing your wide open eyes.

‘‘What! Of course not.’’ he almost shrieks with a mocking attitude. ‘‘It was a way more general question than it’s heard.’’ finally he stops laughing, giggling after sitting right beside you. Brown gaze locked on you after silence takes over your small conversations, but you don’t feel uncomfortable the way you should. The way you thought you should act if you run into him again, but the annoying fondness toys with your heart. After the day you last saw him, you regretted shortly after the way you acted all needy, as a fragile little girl. You still can’t believe how you felt heartbroken when he didn’t find a way to drive you home. What were you? Some girl who can’t control her emotions or hormones? And no, using pregnancy as an excuse won’t work this time. You had strict rules to obey. No man must go near to your heart.

‘‘Doctor Kim wanted a urine test?’’ Hoseok tried to look cool, asking nonchalantly and tried to trick himself as he only wondered about this as a nurse. Not out of curiosity about your situation or health. Badly wishing you would fool around and not hit him on the head.

‘‘Hmm. Probably an infection. He wanted a test.’’ you nod, chewing your bottom lip while his chocolate orbs never leaves your face. While your fingers play with the cup, eyes locked on them as you are afraid to look him in the eye, not trusting yourself enough on not blushing all over while eying him. He had some kind of an effect on you, and you hated that. You really did. He leans closer when you scream internally, ‘‘There is something,’’ he murmurs before the touch of his fingertips lick your cheek a bit, feeling the tremble on his hand while he takes a tiny leaf from your hair. It was stupid to feel, but the scene had resemblance with the tv dramas. Both of you stayed dumbfounded as he dared to touch you, of course, you were too close and air left the tiny space. Under the spotlight you two were frozen, waiting for a miracle to move. Something happened soon after, but you may not call it a ‘miracle’ as it was your dumb friend, who yelling at you from across the corridor.

‘‘Y/N-ahhh!’’ A couple of eyes landed on Taehyung in disbelief, a couple of ‘tsc’s murmured by the older ones, and immediately the young man shut his mouth. Holding his hand above his parted lips, embarrassment turns his cheeks scarlet, heart beating inside of his throat. But all the embarrassment dies after Taehyung spots you and the man right beside you, hand on your hair, the same scarlet on his face. Then Taehyung visibly changes, and you know what is about to happen that you hated so much. Before you could open your mouth to say something, or Hoseok lands his hand, your friend was there. Taking deep breaths, nostrils getting big with every breath. ‘‘I’m Taehyung, and you?’’ wanting to slap your forehead, or his face, you stood up and Hoseok followed your act.

‘‘H-hey. Hoseok,’’ Hoseok holds his whimper when the red haired man tries to break his hand in the handshake. He doesn’t understand the situation, or why this man looks like he was about to rip his head off, but Hoseok couldn’t help to push his chest up a little bit to show he is not intimidated by the man in front of him. ‘‘Hahaha, how you meet with each other kindly, huh? Hoseok is the best nurse in this hospital as Doctor Kim said,’’ you try to ease the moment, but the words all sound shrill, ‘‘And Taehyung is-’’

‘‘Taehyung,’’ your best friend for life, wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. With dreadful eyes you scan his face, then landing on Hoseok, watching the strain on his jaw. ‘‘Nice to meet you,’’ Taehyung adds, and you want to punch him. Oh gosh, you want to punch him so bad on the balls. Until his know-it-all, stupid face reddened. He was forcing your restraining level, pushing you too much with the protective acts of him. Between your internally crisis, you land an apologetic gaze on Hoseok’s, wishing him not to care of your stupid friend’s attitudes.

‘‘Yes. Yes, of course, nice to meet you, too,’’ Hoseok bids his goodbye after taking his hand from Taehyung’s grip, as kind as he can manage. Trembling left hand finds a way to ease the act by wandering on his hair, ruining it. He doesn’t know why the burning ball dropped at his chest out of nowhere, or why his breaths become so fast. Wanting to punch himself in the face, he can’t get rid of the image of the arm over your shoulders. Blood almost meets with air when he bites down his lip, a feeling clawing his chest, but he doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t want to learn, either.

‘‘Ouch!’’ Taehyung voices a hoarse whine, rubbing the skin under his rib cage. An instant ache raised after the touch of your elbow, landing on him with a great aspect. ‘‘Did I play good?’’ he tries to laugh but with the pain he wheezes, playfulness wiped from his face.

‘‘What was that?’’ slapping him one more time, you raged. Hoseok’s back already lost in the corridor, but remembering how his face dropped down, and a terrible anguish struck your heart. Of course it was only because Taehyung mocked him, that was why you felt this stinging guilt. Yeah, that’s why. ‘‘What was what? I think I played well. Shouldn’t we protect you from the danger going around?’’ he asked like it was the obvious thing. Surprise on the face.

‘‘Who are ‘we’, exactly?’’

‘‘Well, you know. Me, as your best friend, also Namjoon. And Yoongi, not that I can count him as your friend, but yeah… You see, that is we,’’ he points, dropping a quotation mark on the air. Breath, yes just breath and ignore the boiling anger inside of you. It would be the best thing to do. ‘‘And here, drink this bottle. Sure you’ll pee like an elephant in a minute.’’ Before taking the bottle from his grip, you tried to say something, abortively parting your mouth only to close it in a minute as you don’t know what to say. The redhead eyes you as if nothing happened, like he didn’t do anything wrong a minute ago, and you didn’t know which word would shake his mind. Maybe a slap, or even a kick would work but with a living creature inside of your belly, you won’t kick anybody. Even if that anybody boils your blood, inflames your migraine.

Audibly gulping you drink the water swiftly. Hitting the bottle on his chest, you turn to sit where Hoseok just left. An itchy feeling appeared on your chest, leaning to your fingertips by your arms, and you wanted to do something. Probably it was a dumb idea, but for some reason you had an urge to explain who was Taehyung actually, why he was here and all the question in his mind. Even though some part of you screams at you, writing the sane thing with red color. Why would he have any questions in his mind? Or, why would he want an explanation from you?

Not knowing exactly if it’s okay to eat diet biscuits, you send another crumb to your mouth, crushing it slowly between your molar teeth. A kid looks at you with wide eyes beside you, she points you to show how scary you look while looking at the floor in a trance to her mother. Which you don’t know what was going on in the world as thinking about nothing was way more entertaining than watching the others. Plain biscuit didn’t put a joy in your mouth, rather it tasted like grass. Not that you knew how grass tasted like, or not that you waited for an explosion in your mouth out of joy. All these useless thoughts wander on your mind, keeping you busy while you wait for your test results. Surprisingly, your dummy friend advised you the reasonable thing, like a broken clock showing the right time twice a day, he used his dusty brain for once. After gulping down a bottle of water, a wave of need had hit you on the inguinal area. All you needed to do was wait for the moment, but you were too impatient to do so. Hitting the table with your fingertips, keeping a broken rhythm, humming to yourself got boring after you started. A ball was going right to the left in your blank head, you were able to hear the sound of emptiness.

‘‘I don’t want to eat this!’’ in the crowded hospital canteen a voice comes out, beating all the other sounds and tickling your ears. ‘‘No. I said no!’’ when the woman tried to feed the little satan again, he jerked his hand and hit the spoon on the woman's hand. Geez. A cold drop takes a track all the way down your spine, causing you to shiver in shock. The satan in the shape of a little boy started to cry soon after the spoon met with the floor, kicking the table and smacking the food on the ground. You were stunned, speechless for a moment as the scene continued by the little boy having a tantrum right beside you. Calling him with such a bad name didn’t bring you any guilt, moreover, you think it suited him well. Red on the face, constant punch on the air and wobbly screams coming out of the boy made some resemblance with the evil force in him. Not that you knew much about babies or little kids, but this boy looked at least four or five years old, yet he managed to put fear in your gut.

A bucket of cold water dropped by your head, waking you from the trance you dive into. You had no idea about raising a baby, or taking care. It was hitting you with a wave of truth that you had no ability to look out for a baby, while you can’t even survive from the winter on your own. Never thinking of raising the baby in your belly, you never applied to an adoption foundation, though. What were you thinking? You would get used to this, being pregnant, being a mother? Suddenly you would expect the baby, out of nowhere?

You were acting foolish, reckless and immature. Always having hard times without a father, how could you think you can raise a baby on your own. And until now, you didn’t know that you had such a dump idea. Did you really want to raise a baby on your own, you weren’t quite sure about it, but you never researched the many ways of adoption. Bitterness floats around your tongue, your grip on the biscuit hardened, until there is nothing but a bunch of crumbs. Cold wet stick on your back, black shirt becoming the second skin while your eyes wander around everywhere. Having multiple panic moments these last weeks, you read much about pregnancy depression, which they mostly said it was okay to feel depressed or down because of the uncertainties of your emotions. They were up and down in a blink, filling your stomach until you threw them out with a retch, waking you up with heavy breaths in the middle of the night. That’s why, you always found yourself thinking if this would be much easier with somebody, with… him. Sticking your tongue between your teeth, you hate yourself for thinking about him, the man who ran away from you with toes hitting his butt. And all these pregnancy hormones were confusing your mind, causing you to barking up the wrong tree.

While you were feeling under the water, fighting with your thoughts to see clearly, a sweet melody of a laugh interrupted the stinging flood of negativities on your mind. Something snapped, and all the scars started to heal after hearing a simple giggle.

Holding your head up, letting the soothing tone sail into your skin, kissing all the stitches to heal by soft touches, you eyed him. Growing pains chucked away against the pressure of the thrilling balm, honeyed warmness bloomed in your chest after witnessing the mouth curling a heart-shape. He was close enough for you to see the glowing wriggle in his eyes, and you wanted to curl, cover your body with the thought of its beauty. For a second, you wanted to let yourself find the momentary tranquility under his magic, even though it was black. Even though it was harmful for you, too soothing, too good to be true.

‘‘H-hi,’’ with a croaky voice popping on your mind, you shake your head to come back to reality. The reality where Hoseok was standing behind the table, a timid smile on his face, feeling uneasy.

Hands crossing each other's way, you stare him blankly, mouth barely spills the greeting. ‘‘Still waiting for the reports?’’ he asks after coughing to get rid of the hoarse voice, billion reasons wandering inside his mind, telling him not to talk with you after what happened on the second floor, but the unknown reason holds his legs tight. Conversely, the part of him, where the logic was long lost can’t ignore the doleful lines on your face. Hundred promises lost its effect with one glimpse towards your direction. Promising, taking oaths for not talking to you was useless over the way his heart reacted after seeing the way you sit all alone. His guts, senses, brilliant mind were nothing but a bunch of trash when it comes to you, and the more he hated the way he walked over his own promises, the more he found himself in a deep hole, where he can’t think of anything but you. As his friend said before, he was stupid. Hoseok knew this very well.

‘‘Yeah, still waiting. But, it’ll be over soon,’’ you cracked a tiny smile, scanning his face until a voice cut the moment, but Hoseok’s lips never moved.

‘‘Hey, it’s Jimin,’’ hand hanging in the air, you stared at the man for a second before reacting. Slightly long dark hair falls on the side of his forehead, a tender smile turns his pupils into half-moons, self-assuredness can easily read. ‘‘The best nurse you can run into,’’ he nods to emphasize his words. But his cockyness fades after Hoseok adds ‘pre’ to his caption, holding your laugh back you cover your palm over your mouth. Hiding your grin back as you don’t want to offend the boy you just met. ‘‘Hi, it’s nice to meet. You can call me Y/N,’’ hearing your name, a light ignites in his half-moons, passing by in satisfaction.

‘‘You don’t mind if we sit together, right?’’ mischievous glares stare deep in you, like he tries to prevent you from saying no, yet you had no intentions to say that. ‘‘We don-’’

Hoseok eyes you in surprise after you cut his words half, not expecting you to agree on what Jimin just said. The smile on your lips shocks him as well, getting cramps on the heart when you land your eyes on him that softly. ‘‘Of course, that would be good. Having a company sounds good,’’

‘‘Where is your…-red haired man?’’ a bizarre tone rises from Hoseok when he takes his place on the chair beside you. Before answering him, the embarrassing scene plays on your mind, sending a bunch of curses to the man who drives himself away from the hospital. You curl an apologetic smile. ‘‘He needed to leave. You know, work calls,’’ allowing yourself to feel stupid, blaring giggle popped out of you. It sounded fake, as you were still ashamed of Taehyung’s behaviours. He only nodded, not adding anything until the black haired one leaves to get something to drink. It was silent between you, but nervousness could cut a wire. Both the way his jaw tenses every other minute, and the way your eyes never land on him more than three seconds, you can sense the awkwardness. Never seeing him like this also disturbed you even though you only run into him for like three times. But as soon as the younger one moved away, chary words spilled by his lips.

‘‘W-was he the father of the baby?’’ Hoseok asked, knowing he is crossing the line big time, but the vexed part of him clouds his logic. Even though he curses himself being this immature, he can’t help the vain need that grows inside of him to learn the truth. Even before seeing your face getting white, lips parting abruptly with an unexpected question, Hoseok knew he shouldn’t ask the question, but witnessing the way you react, he curses himself one more time. ‘‘Who? Taehyung?’’ As you weren’t waiting for him to ask such a question, he wasn’t expecting you to laugh until your body became involved in your laughter. Stuttering, being unable to complete your word, you hold your finger on the air to ask for a minute to gather yourself. For a moment of thinking Taehyung as the father of the baby in your belly made you giggly mess because of the abruptness of it. You not only want to retch with the thought of it, but also want to laugh until your muscles stop working. ‘‘No! Oh, o-of course, no.’’ forgetting where you were, you burst out.

‘‘Oh, okay?’’ ignoring the dense relief, Hoseok hesitated. Not knowing what to say in return as you were trying to hold your laugh back.

‘‘S-sorry but thinking of him as that just wrecked my nerves for a moment.’’ wiping the tears from your eyelids, you continued. ‘‘He is my friend. Best friend to be exact. He did act silly before, sorry for that either. He think he needs to protect me.’’ as you gave too much information at one, Hoseok’s pupils grew bigger, and weren't expecting to receive such a reply. He doesn’t even try to hide his amused smile back, shamelessly showing it out. ‘‘Good,’’ he commented before causing a big, heavy silence between you two. As you eyed him in a moment of confusion glowing in your eyes, weighing the meaning behind the word, you were utterly surprised. Was it just to fill the space, or he meant something else, you never truly understand, but decided to lure yourself into thinking it meant nothing. Otherwise, you were in a state of having no control over your emotions, and god knows what that simple world would do to your mind, playing games until you found yourself curled in your sheets, losing the pitiless game. You had lived that more than once, but in this situation, it would tousle you and throw your parts messily.

Dropping himself on the chair, Jimin spread the husky mood. ‘‘Here hyung, your latte.’’ He pushed the glass to Hoseok’s direction, smiling sweetly, he didn’t forget you. Putting the scarlet cup in front of you, knowing the pleasant scent devours your nostrils in no time. ‘‘And this is for you. It’s my favorite so I hope you’ll like this,’’ he adds, gaze glowing happily.

‘‘Ah. Thank you,’’ before taking a sip, you murmur, bowing your head little to show your gratitudes. Risky mood runs away after the hot liquor lingers around your mouth, playing, tickling your tongue over and over until it has lost its ruins. Well, you can say that you liked Jimin without having any lack of sympathy before he even treated you with the oh so familiar taste. It was soothing, alarming your senses to ease kind of a taste, and you remembered how your mother always made a cup of this tea whenever you gave her a tantrum. It never mattered if the tantrum was caused because you wanted a shoe, or rejected by those companies over and over again. And for a split moment your heart jammed between the agonizing longing over seeing her crow's foot while your mother smiles endearingly. ‘‘What is this?’’

Seeing how your face lightens with the flush crepting up your face, Jimin waits a second to answer. ‘‘It-it’s my mother's recipe. Why?’’

‘‘You serious?’’ mouth falling open, having no control over the tone of your voice, you yowled. Without wasting another minute, you gulp down the second sip. Licking the taste out of your lips, a smile beamed to your face.

‘‘W-why?’’ stuttering his words, Hoseok leaned closer. Dramatic dread banged his face in a flash of light, but before he could gather his senses, Jimin’s mischievous eyes caught him.

‘‘My mother always made this when I felt angry or emotionally sick. Even now,’’ giggling away your embarrassment as you shared much again. Seeing the way Hoseok’s dimple color the side of his upper lips as it gets smaller with the curling smile. His eyes glistened with the dim joy covering over his chest. And it affected you. ‘‘So who made them?’’ you look back as you were able to see the creator of your childish happiness, and attempt stealed a tiny laugh from Jimin’s lips.

‘‘It’s a secret for now,’’ with a twisted smile curling his face, he swallowed a big sip from his coffee. ‘‘As we need to leave now. Right hyung?’’ Two pairs of eyes land on Hoseok, who was locking his gaze on you with an adoring smile on the corner of his lips. Not wanting to show it on your face, you were heartbroken a little as he just got here. They. They just got here. And you can’t deny that you had fun talking with Jimin, sharing the same recipe from your mother’s was exciting. But you had to gulp down your disappointment after seeing the mealy eyes, you faked a giggle. ‘‘I will be okay if you’re looking at me like that because you think I’m too powerless to be left alone.’’ To be honest, you lied to avoid revealing any kind of negative expression. Including yourself, as you repeat that you don’t need someone to hold your hand and wait by your side. Liar.

‘‘Did you came here with your car?’’ he was about to turn his back when the idea hit him, and he gestured his body towards you once again. Reminding you of the absence of any vehicles to take you back to your not so lovely, cold home. Whether you were exaggerating the situation of your home, you blamed the loneliness. It made you feel cold in there, like a lost puppy, who can’t find the way back home. ‘‘Uber gonna work for me today,’’ you hinder the unnecessary thoughts of you, smiled naively. Then, ecstasy glowed in his browns. Like he detected something way good to celebrate it with a genuine grin. ‘‘If it’s okay, I’d like to drive you back. I had a semi-promise as I remember?’’

This was unexpected. As you stare at him back, lips parted slightly due to the maze you found yourself in, feeling a bit funny. Hoseok felt the urge to continue as you stayed staring as you just swallowed a stick. ‘‘My shift is almost over, so you don’t have to wait too long. But only if you’re comfortable,’’

‘‘O-okay.’’ Comfortable? Was he joking or he was that oblivious to the way you move, act like a fool around him. ‘‘It would be fine, I guess..’’ your voice trailed off in the end. Afraid to be a burden on him, you were about to turn down his offer. But a blooming, heart-shaped smile put you back on the place. He wasn’t doing these to look kind, he was kind and really wanted to help you out. Even though you weren’t aware of that.

Wetting his lips ecstatically, his fingers met with his hair as he didn’t know where to put them. ‘‘Then I’ll be at the front gate in half an hour later?’’ he noted. Waving his goodbye, as you mimicked him back without forgetting Jimin, telling him how glad you are that you met him. His half-moons appeared as he bid his goodbye back, wrapping his arms around you tightly. It surprised you how sincere he was, but you put aside your cold-hearted acts for a second to hug him the same way. Which, it felt nice. Now, you were going to wait for him after seeing Doctor Kim, and get your medicine. You knew he would give you an antibiotica as you were aware of the current situation. Yes, it is good. Think about antibiotics to press down your horror, your anxiety over being driven to your home by Hoseok. That would hold back your mind from whirling around.

Life was funny. The way it worked amazed everyone in this world as well as you. It was funny because you were a mess not long ago. Agonizing, trembling waves of pain never left your chest for a moment, and you found yourself crying in every possible corner. Opposite to the current emotions howling inside of you. Heart stepped closer to the edge of a skyscraper, almost ready to jump with the non stop thrill pumping out of it. After feeling like ages now, you feel the blooming tiny happiness inside your chest. Besides being a good thing, it was also terrifying as you were broken like a glass, torn into million pieces by the love of your life. At least you thought he was the one. Luckily or not, it came out as a false alarm. He wasn’t the one, and never intent to be. Stop thinking about that imposter you wrecked idiot. There was no way that he could make you sad anymore. Not that you had someone, or thinking about filling his old place. Speaking of the devil’s name, you were not thinking about Hoseok to fill his place, but he helped you in the way he wasn’t aware. You come to your senses, remembering you were still a living, breathing human being. Pregnant or not. It wasn’t the end of the world, and you will figure out what to do. Sooner or later. You always did.

Maybe this, being all sunshine, a ball of optimism was an effect of Hoseok. Still, you were happy at the moment. Weren’t you?

‘‘Oh. You are here,’’ breathy voice came right beside you, tearing you apart from overthinking. And you made the first mistake by sizing him from head to toe. Seeing him in loose black sweatpants, green sporty jacket and darker shade of green t-shirt keeping a necklace above his chest, cost you. The damn glasses didn’t help you, as well. It tied your tongue how his façade changed with a simple outfit. He looked breathtaking indeed. Landing his beg from his shoulders, he pushed back his glasses on his nose. ‘‘I was anxious a bit that you’d left as it took more than I expected to come here,’’

A heavy breath turns into a silent hiccup, hitting you on the chest when his eyelids crinkles with an apologetic smile. This was going to be the biggest mistake you ever made - without counting your pregnancy, of course - and you didn’t pay much attention at the exact moment. It felt warm on the chest, if you had to find an excuse. ‘‘Were you? I just came here, too, so it's okay.’’ Forty minutes wasn’t that long and yes, one can say you just come here.

‘‘Great then. Shall we?’’ Hoseok gestured to the exit, waiting for you to stand beside him. Both of you ignored the growing awkwardness for as long as you can. He was going to drive you home. It was a long road, and you couldn’t just ditch him without offering him something in return.

Imitating him, you arrived in his car in the park. Shiny red car awakened your admiration. Not that you get paid poorly, or you knew much about cars, but you were smart enough to understand how expensive this car is. ‘‘Do you want me to open the heater?’’

‘‘Huh?’’ staring him like a deer in the headlight, you stopped brushing your hands to your pants. He caught you out of blue. ‘‘No, no. It’s not that cold. Just… just my cold hands, that’s all.’’ sinking deeper in the black leather seat, you gulped. Blinking unaware of how pale your face is, you blurt out a plane smile. Never thought of being a woman who likes his partners in such a power, or in great wealth, butterflies raised inside of you. As witnessing the way he grabbed the wheel like ruling a whole country caught your attraction. Was watching someone while driving count as a kink? You didn’t hope so. Fucking pregnancy hormones.

‘‘Can you write the address on the navigation?’’ he pleaded, locking his seat belt. As you mirrored him before typing your address with a shaky hand. Since when giving your address stopped becoming a threat, you didn’t care. Finishing the task he gave, you leaned back happily. Anxiety still tried to get away where you pressed it down, wanted to eat your happiness alive and offer you the biggest panic attack you ever had. Fortunately, Hoseok managed to hold you at ease, even without working for it. After ten minutes of silence - and it was long enough for you to have a drip of sweats on your forehead - he broke it with an apology. ‘‘You can take back your apology that you bid for you friend’s behavior, as mine didn’t act very differently,’’

Releasing the bottom lip free from your teeth’s torture, you turned your head. ‘‘You don’t have to apologize for Jimin. He was sweet,’’ mentioning of his name, mischievous half-moons came alive in your mind. You smiled with the memory. Which Hoseok catched it with the corner of his eye. ‘‘I almost forgot the taste of that tea my mother made for me. So he did something very good for me,’’ you bobbed your head, continuing to smile.

With the word ‘mother’, Hoseok’s memory of seeing you on the bench while crying, having a heart-to-heart talk with your mother rouse itself. Rusty weariness still visible in your façade, his heart sank into a familiar ache, remembering how desperate you looked before. Unintentionally he grabbed the wheel tighter, brows snapped together as he had no power to hold back the pain you were feeling. First time in his life, he felt useless and it bothered him so much. ‘‘Is she living far from you?’’

‘‘If you call two hours of car ride far, then yes?’’ lifting your brow up, you eyed his genuine smile. Eyes getting thinner with the weight of his cheek, milky teeth appeared.

‘‘I never thought that you’ll turn out as a lazy person,’’ as your mouth takes the shape of an ‘o’, his giggles suffuse the car. ‘‘C’mon. Beat me if I’m wrong but you are not really thinking its long, right?’’

‘‘Well, can’t a woman be lazy in peace?’’

‘‘Yep, of course.’ holding his giggle behind, he struggled as you rolled your eyes. ‘‘You are totally. Totally had every right to be lazy. Over a two hours car ride,’’ covering his palm under his lips, honeyed cackles slipped away. He was lucky you found him cute. No. No you didn’t.

‘‘Rude.’’ you crossed your arms above your chest, shifting your direction out of the car, watching the nearest things disappear in a moment. Cars, trees and buildings fading away until the vehicle slowed down a bit, and then stopped going as the red light blurted out. Knowing it will look childish to put an attitude over something this stupid, but for some reason, you also knew he wouldn’t find this abrupt. You would hold your mind busy with keeping an attitude towards Hoseok if your eyes hadn't caught two girls passing by in front of the car, eating the donut ice cream sandwiches in such a piquant way. You knew it was grilled donut, and you would sell your soul just to have one of them right now. Mouth watered with the sight, and tickling craving increased little by little. Covering every piece. If your lips have been locked together a tiny bit loosely, a drop of saliva would drip to the corner of your chin. You read a lot about pregnancy cravings, but you never had this strongly. Fingertips never itched to grab those sandwiches, tear them apart from the girl’s hand this much. Teeth nibbing the bottom lip, you clawed your palms to hold yourself back. At the verge of crying from the need you feel, shaky breath step in the nostrils. It wasn’t the place for this. Not now. Not in front of him.

Eventually, the light turned green, car moved far away from the girls. From the ice cream sandwiches. Far away from the sweet, mesmerizing taste. Fuck this shit. You were about to lose your mind, and nothing took your mind from those sinful sweets you craved so much. Bottom lip starts to tremble with the amount of sadness you gather inside, head almost whirl around and you almost give away a big whine. It was so stupid to feel, but nothing was going to change the way you feel as you know about this--

‘‘Here we are!’’ the man on the wheel turned his head to give an eye curling smile. But your reaction confused him. Trembling lip, the tip of the nose got pink. Teary eyes wide open, looking upset. He had no doubt. You were looking like a little girl, and his heart grew soft. ‘‘Is everything ok-’’

‘‘Thank you for driving me,’’ the brittle voice came out shaky. First, you think about leaving the car as fast as you can and curl in your sheets and cry as you hold tears back, hardly. But the logical side of you found this cruel. Rude also. So you add before grabbing the door handle, ‘‘Can I offer you a cup of coffee? Or whatever you want?’’

Afraid of avowing his thrill, Hoseok bobbed his head. ‘‘I don’t want to tire you-’’

‘‘Hoseok, you drive me back all the way down. This is much I can do for you, so please?’’ If his heart didn’t explode before witnessing the warming scene, it was about to. As you said his name in such a tone, adding the cutting please at the end. He was about to lose his mind. That’s all.

‘‘Okay but I have to get something. You go first, okay?’’ eyes flickered with bliss, your nod was enough for him as a response.

Choosing stairs over the elevator, you breathe out. It was tiring but counting this as an exercise wasn’t the worst thing you had done. Still too burned out from the severe need of the particular dessert, you barely hold yourself on your feet. It was a tiring day. Very, indeed. Throwing your shoes aside, panic bloomed out of sudden. The living room looked like a war scene, and the man you just invited forcefully were about to witness this mess. Standing mortifiedly, you moved swiftly. Gathering the used napkins, dirty t-shirts and socks between your arms, immediately you throw them into your bedroom. He wouldn’t enter here, would he?

Of course he wouldn’t you horny bastard!

Shaking your head, you turn back to collect the dirty bowls and cups from the table. You only be able to throw them into the sink but at least they belong to the kitchen. ‘‘The thing I get hype for,’’ you mumbled while adding coffee to the filtre on your machine. Pregnancy made your life boring. With these simple events, your heartbeats bobbed over your throat. But boring meant a simple life, and simple didn’t bother you that much. Well, you were going to give birth last than eight months later. Simple days didn’t sound that bad now. Thinking about the pain you will feel… Gosh, it was enough to send shivers to your spine. Opening the oven to boil water, you closed your eyes for a second.

Knock. Knock.

Your heart-shaped positivity wasn’t late. It was a bit weird for him to find your apartment right away, as it was his first time. But you didn’t want to bother yourself with such a lame topic, as you opened the door, greeting him with a big grin. He was a guest now. You better act responsible for once. ‘‘Welcome-’’ mouth hanging open, you falter.

‘‘To be honest, I also love ice cream donuts.’’ your real life angel takes a step inside with a box in his hand. ‘‘But I also know how intense and painful can be the pregnancy cravings.’’ exploring his dimpled smile, you stand still in awe. Knees almost gave away with the piercing glee.

‘‘How-.. how exactly you understand?’’ stuttering the words, his smile beamed bigger.

‘‘You were looking at the donuts the same way Mickey stared at my steak. Not to be rude, but it was kinda scary seeing you like that.’’ fingers covering his mouth, lovely giggle slipped once more. And, for the thousand times today, you wanted to cry, but this time it was because of the weight of an armful of happiness. Gratitude. Seeing him all giggly, standing in front of you with a box full of donuts, his thoughtfulness warmed your heart. ‘‘Oh. Did I say do something bad? You look like you were about to cry-’’

‘‘Thank you,’’ words come out in a whisper, husky by the shoulder of him covering your mouth. As you hugged him. Without thinking further. Tightly. Well, when it comes to you, acting unresponsible wasn’t new, but with the new situation made everything even worse. Now, emotions were higher, heavier, wider inside. Plus, he was literally working on breaking your senses, you thought. Even though you sensed he wasn’t a person like that. All calculated and acting sneaky to trick you into something. He was doing all these out of sympathy, and how you didn’t know particularly, but it made everything even more irresistible. Him, to be more specific.

‘‘S-sorry for…’’ after his hesitant arms letting you off, you gestured to the space between you two. The regret now shaped after your temerity, daring to do something like that whirled your stomach. It felt empty, or about to be empty.

His voice mirrored the caringness he puts out, ‘‘Hugging is not something you should be sorry for Y/N,’’ the taller’s heart fluttered inside his chest, like it had wings to do that. Childish joy filled his guts, seeing you can’t press your smile behind. It gave him a weird satisfaction. ‘‘And don’t want to pressure you or anything but are you going to let me in?’’ he tilted a brow, taunting you with the softest way possible.

‘‘Oh, shit-..I mean ‘m sorry,’’

‘‘I thought we agreed not to say sorry anymore,’’ finding you while standing, open mouthed, and not knowing what to do, he decided not to push you anymore. It was fun to him, seeing you all going wide-eyes, lips parted in confusing, and the blush covering the fair cheeks. For the sake of your nerves, he pushed back the laughter when you gestured him inside in defeat. Though, you looked so cute, for his eyes. Shyness of you, the way you tried to pick the right words to spill them, or the way you get all high color of red when you revealed your true self, unintentionally, caused his desire to know you get deeper. It was too early to feel, but seeing you sitting in front of him with a cup of tea between your palms, eying the floor amusingly anxious, bloomed something in his upper body.

‘‘Thanks for the coffee. It's delicious.’’ he gently commanded, pointing the cup in your direction to emphasize. Eyes of him fixed on your face, around your lips. A loud gulp trembling inside of your ears, you blinked. Too much.

‘‘Do I… something on my face?’’ chewing the bottom lip, tap of your nails filled background with tensed noises. When he nodded and pointed to your face, you were surprised. As you weren’t expecting the blurted question would be real.

‘‘Yep.’’ he touched his own face, ‘‘Little upper side of the lips,’’

Wiping the remains of the ice cream off of your face, you wanted to dive into between the floor and never come back. ‘‘Ahh,’’ you murmured a weak thanks, blank space between you and him getting bigger and bigger as the embarrassment filled your cup. Silence fell down on the space, the pressed worry now peeking its head out of you, while you brushed your palm over the leg. You didn’t know what you were expecting when you invited him over, as you nearly know each other, and maybe nothing in common to talk about. But the stargazer side of you hoped you would find something to talk about, and spontaneously you would come out as the funnest, lively person he met. Bet, you were someone he never met before but you did not think it was something to be happy over.

‘‘So, you have a dog,’’ What again? This is your best shot to find something to talk with him? What a brilliant mind you had over there. Well, how could you blame him if he decides to leave you right now, right here.

‘‘Ah, yeah. He is living with my family but yes, I can say that I have,’’ he points out kindly. Probably thinking what was wrong with you as you both looked and sounded dumb and the most boring- ‘‘I see you are living alone? No pet or a roommate.’’ he distracts you from the stressing thoughts that wandered around your mind, tiny uncertainty hanging on his face as he was afraid to pass the line.

‘‘I never thought about having a roommate, or a pet. Even though I like them beyond measure.’’ you continued after a pale smile occurring over your face. ‘‘Maybe in the future? Though, my mother would try to convince me not to, as I’m barely holding myself together,’’ you laughed weirdly as you confessed. He joined you with a wide smile. Mouth taking a shape of a heart, something snapped inside. You licked your lips in need. Something was playing with your air, as you hardly inhaled some. ‘‘Would you do everything your mother said?’’

‘‘Uhm… Probably, yes?’’ crinkling your brows, you gave a thought on it.

‘‘But two hours of car ride still too much?’’

‘‘Hey!’’ wide smile turned into laughter when you protested, and soon after, you joined him. It was impossible to do anything else. The tone of the laugh sounded familiar, comfortable, euphoric, and joyful. And wrongly, it made you spill, blurt out the things you kept to yourself, without even thinking much. The mood turned into a gloomy one right after you started to talk. But it didn’t disturbed you the way you thought it would.

‘‘I know… I know it’s not that long, but, as you know, this pregnancy thing is very new for me, and… and probably you guessed that, but I wasn’t expecting this. And clearly not handling it well. I just can’t confront her before I get used to this, and maybe figure it out what to do?’’ exhaling, heaviness of your chest lessened. ‘‘Unexpectedness of this is already hard and trying to handle this alone is even harder-’’

‘‘Alone?’’ Hoseok couldn’t stop himself before letting the word slip, he regrets it right after. When he cut you off, you realized you shared too much. Eying the cup of tea between your palms, as it had something inside and made you spill all of this. But, without having regrets you continued, worried chuckles jerked out by the lips. ‘‘Well, as it shows, when you aren’t the one who had a growing baby inside, it’s easier to run away.’’

‘‘Oh… I’m sorry,’’ Hoseok doesn’t know what to say in return. He is sorry indeed, but mostly angry. Unreasonable rage burning his chest, his eyes, his palms, he stays silent. His logic just can’t put two in two when it's come to think how someone can be this… this relentless. Memories of your broken face, voice, comes alive once again in his mind, now, everything makes sense. The hurt on your face, loneliness of your eyes. Now he understands why your voice always sounded so weak, so crushed. The blue never leaves your façade. It breaks Hoseok’s heart, but he is thankful as you opened your heart. He feels important. Someone you can talk to. And the elder promises not to hurt this trust you showed, innerly. He puts his anger aside, and focuses to make your face wrinkle with laughter.

And, he does it.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #houseofddaeng #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #jung hoseok #painkiller #dylanxmin

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ask-sakky-bear · 4 years

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Journal Entry #2: Ghosts

The second installment for my podcast idea - this is a much longer read!

Also, I don’t recall if I mentioned this in my first post about it, but this is set in a Naruto Alternate Universe - modern setting, no ninjas, but supernatural things exist. That sort of things.

[Sooo, I lied, it’s 4:39 in the morning and I can’t sleep, so might as well do something useful. Without further ado:

Date: July 15th..er, 16th, 2015

Time: now 4:40 am

Subject: Ghosts.

I figured the best way to approach this was to start with the subject I know most about. Or, have had the most experience with, at least. I guess we should start with what a ghost actually is.

According to a quick internet search, a ghost, as it is commonly thought of has...surprisingly many definitions. That definition seems to include the concept of a disembodied spirit. Merriam-Webster, the world’s leading authority on all things needing to be defined, lists seven definitions for the noun “ghost” - only four of them I believe are actually relevant to this discussion:

The seat of life or intelligence - the soul;

Spirit or demon;

A disembodied soul: especially, the soul of a dead person believed to be an inhabitant of the “unseen world”, who appears to the living in bodily likeness; and

A faint, shadowy trace

Now, I also looked at a few other online and physical definitions, so no one can accuse me of not being thorough here, and they all say much the same thing. The soul of a dead person, a disembodied spirit, a “vague, shadowy, or evanescent form”, a spirit that haunts the living, etc, etc. So, everyone seems to agree with what they think a ghost is. They’re mostly right. Let’s unpack good ol’ MW’s definitions, first, to get a better picture of what a ghost is.

A soul.

...

Okay, to be completely honest with you, I really don’t want to unpack that one. There’s a lot of religious implications, philosophical debates, and shaky science wrapped up in that one word to include in this one entry. I might make a different entry in regards to that later, but for the sake of expediency and to stave off the migraine it’ll give me, I’ll just state this: One could consider the soul to be our consciousness, that...something, which makes us who we are individually. I think this is the simplest way to describe what I’ve encountered with ghosts. Anyway, I'm going to leave this bit for now and come back to it, as I believe it is important for our definition.

Second definition: I’m going to go ahead and explicitly state this on record that ghosts, spirits, and demons are not the same thing. Some might try to argue that a ghost is a type of spirit, but let me tell you, in my experience, they are very different entities and will get offended if you insist otherwise.

You do not want to offend a spirit.

Trust me.

I’ll make further entries to explain myself later, but for now, that’s all I have to say. Back to the subject.

I believe the third definition is important to look at in defining ghosts, because it is the closest to the truth. Particularly in the aspects of “disembodied” and “unseen”.

Typically, a ghost does not have a physical body. This may confuse some people, if you take into account how many ghosts are able to interact with the physical world. I guess what I mean to say is that the body and ghost are generally two separate things, as a ghost can exist in cases where a body does not, be it cremated, or in various stages of decay. (Note: attention should be drawn to some instances where this is not the case; see for instance the entry on ju-on. End note). I am not quite sure what mechanism allows ghosts to physically affect the world around them, but perhaps future entries and study will shed some light.

I particularly believe that the lack of a physical body is what makes ghosts “unseen”. The limits of human physicality make it so that anything nonphysical is almost impossible to perceive. I say almost, because there have been several individuals I have met who exhibit the unnatural ability to see ghosts - myself included. So, to summarize here two aspects of ghosts that are important in its definition: a ghost is typically some disembodied entity that is unseen by most, but has the ability to affect the physical world.

Definition number four, and honestly, the most accurate depiction of a ghost: “A shadowy trace”. At the heart of it, a ghost is really just that. A trace. Or, to give a better word for it, an imprint.

This is where I want to bring back in the early definition of a soul. Throughout our lives, we exist and experience the world. Our experiences shape who we are, how we think, and how we experience our experiences. I can’t say what exactly a “soul” as a single entity is or what happens to it after we kick the bucket, but I do know that occasionally a soul doesn’t disappear from this world. Like I said earlier: it makes an imprint.

How is an imprint made, you might wonder? Well, that’s where the whole thing with experiences comes into play. If you’ve lived a decently normal life and die without complaint, you don’t typically make a substantial imprint. Sure, I’ve come across the odd imprint of love for a place or person, but it’s usually not something pleasant that causes a ghost to form. Think murders, rights left unperformed, hating one's circumstances in life, that sort of thing.

As you can imagine, this tends to cause a lot of problems for the living. Oh sure, you usually come across the haunted house or temple, where you may get a whiff of cigar smoke or hear disembodied laughter in the room over. Those hauntings are pretty easy to get rid of - either you learn to ignore them or just have your local priest come round and say a few blessings. But sometimes, people die violently and suddenly and the emotions they feel at death are enough to make a stronger imprint.

Those are your more..cookie cutter hauntings. And usually where I, or you know, an actual exorcist comes in.

Like I mentioned before, I have no idea what allows these stronger imprints to actually interact with the living, but they can, and usually it’s not very pleasant.

I guess I should talk about how ghosts typically interact with the living, while I’m thinking about it. That’s a little tough to explain, from my experience. Actually, that’s a good way to explain it - an experience.

Most people think that ghosts talk to people like how I’m talking right now. You know, straight, linear conversations. But that’s not the case. See, a ghost is just a memory the person leaves behind, hence an imprint, yadda yadda. Our only way to interact with them is to experience them. This usually takes the form of memories cropping up in dreams, unexplained scents/sounds, or a physical manifestation of the life or death of that individual. Above all, there’s the emotions that caused the ghost to manifest. Those are typically the worst, since they tend to cause personality shifts, paranoia, and the like.

Umm, maybe if I explain it like this, it’ll make a little more sense:

About 3 or 4 months ago, (Redacted) and I - sorry, my partner and I, came across a haunting. It was your typical set up - a family of four moves into a new house for surprisingly cheap and everything seems to be going okay. The neighbors are nice enough but a bit dodgy and uncomfortable with the house, like they know something unpleasant about it, but you write it off cuz this is a new leaf for you guys.

Anyway, things are going fine for the first few weeks, when the weird things start happening. Footsteps from the second floor when no one’s there, feeling like something is in the room with you, an odd whiff of cologne that doesn’t belong to the husband, that sort of thing. They do the normal thing, find out that there had been a death in the house years prior and get a monk to come say a few blessings. Life goes on. Only, things start to get worse.

The most notable change was with the family’s youngest, a boy around 12. He was described to us as your typical introverted boy, shy but sweet and considerate. It’s usually like this, for some reason. Perhaps it’s the tendency to be on your own that draws ghosts to you like flies. Or maybe it’s something in your makeup that allows you to see ghosts and that in itself makes you introverted. I dunno. In any case, there’s a big enough shift in the kid’s personality to warrant alarm. The part that alarmed the mother the most, however, was the sudden...marks that showed up on the boy. Bruises that had no explanation and, the worst part, circular burns popping up in places under sleeves and pant legs.

At first, the husband was suspected. Pretty logical conclusion, really, given all the signs. A husband in a stressful job, the boy suddenly becoming withdrawn, flinching from sudden contact, drawing images of a “monster” that supposedly came in at night to hurt him. Most of the child psychologists came to the same conclusion. A case would have been made, I think, if it wasn’t for two unexplained facts: first, the boy mentioned that there was an older figure who tried to protect him, though his older sister claimed she had no knowledge of anything bad happening, and second, the boy kept insisting that it wasn’t his father hurting him.

Most officers kept trying to explain these things away, but thankfully, the mother was introduced to me before any real litigation could happen and I was able to help. I do, however, want to take a moment to make something clear. I do not want to undermine the importance of social workers and the severity of child abuse. Not every instance of child abuse turns out to be a haunting, and I find these usually tend to be isolated incidents. The conclusions of the officers and social workers would have been correct in any other circumstance. The only reason litigation was withheld in this instance was because of the testimony of the young boy and my ability to sense the ghost in question.

Ah, crap, this is starting to get away from me. Um, alright. Long story short, there was in fact a ghost haunting the house, but only one, and that particular ghost was not the one harming the small boy, not intentionally at least. What had happened, apparently, was that the death in question had happened roughly ten years prior - a 15 year old boy was found hanging in his upstairs room. Ruled a suicide. The autopsy revealed what looked to be signs of abuse, but because the boy's father was some high ranking public figure, it was ruled as self harm in court. There was a lot of back and forth, but eventually, the father managed to get off on some minor charge. He paid a fine, got put on some watch list, was supposed to serve community service but got out of that, too. The suicide ruling stayed in place, however, and for the neighbors, that was the case.

Plot twist: that was absolutely not the case. Unsurprisingly, if I’m honest.

The real story, I was able to find out, was that the father had strangled his son in a drunken rage and then set the body to avoid guilt. While he was still incarcerated, he got away with murder, basically. From what I could tell, the teenager had been subjected to heavy abuse for most of his life, never really speaking up but also not being noticed, even though it was relatively obvious from the outside. His last moments...the boy really just wanted someone to notice what was happening, really. To notice and to hold his father accountable. I know this because I got to relive his last moments.

That’s what I’m trying to get at when I say you “experience” a ghost. I didn’t sit down and have a conversation with the ghost, asking for his backstory. I literally experienced it. I felt his memories as if they were my own, the pain and suffering that stood out to him the most, and of course, his final moments. That’s probably the scariest part about ghosts, if I’m honest. When you experience them, you often find yourself subjected to their final moments. Most people don’t survive them, actually. It’s hard to explain, actually, but sometimes when a ghost is formed, they pull in a manifestation of whatever killed them or caused their deaths. That’s what happened in this case - the boy’s father was such a huge part of the abuse and neglect in his life that the imprint included that terrible memory of his father, even though his father wasn’t actually dead.

Well, it’s not like I have any other evidence to support what I’m saying. All I have is my word. That’s unfortunately the case with a lot of supernatural entities, sadly. You can’t really prove they exist unless you experience or meet them, so a lot of my work is carried out in secret. Or just because someone knows me and nothing else was working and...well, you get the idea.

Anyway, this is starting to get away from me again. And it’s really late. Early. Whatever, I’m tired in any case. This is probably not making any sense at this point. Then again, these are really just for me, so I guess it’s okay that they don’t make that much sense to anyone else. So let’s wrap this up; to summarize:

A “ghost” can be constituted as simply the imprint of a soul; the ghost is usually the imprint of a deceased individual, a memory so to speak that is formed by some fiercely felt emotion that occurred at death. They lack a physical body, which makes them generally “unseen” by most individuals, however, there are some that are able to see/interact more effectively with ghosts.

How physical interaction is achieved and why some individuals are more susceptible to ghost encounters are questions I hope to answer in the future. My current theory is that in the “experiencing” of a ghost, the trauma is somehow transferred to the living individual - it is perhaps the strength of the negative emotion that has some affect on the living world. In any case, experiencing a ghost can range from something small and innocuous, such as disembodied sounds, smells, or emotions, to...fatal encounters...

Hopefully, recounting my previous missions that have involved ghosts will be more enlightening.

That’s really all I have on the subject at the moment, between my scattered notes, personal anecdotes, and...admittedly sparse book research. In the future, I’ll try to find better ways to actually test my theories and collect physical evidence of the things I come across. Definitely categorize the types of ghosts. I would also like to be able to incorporate anatomical drawings of some of the things I deal with, though many of the spirits tend to be...secretive. Well, that can wait for future entries. In the meantime, I’ll try to dig up actual physical books on these subjects. That is, if I can dig them up at all...]

#writing #my writing #podcast #naruto #naruto au #writing au

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diyunho · 5 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “ Nobody” Part 1

After not feeling well for months, The Joker finally found out why: the life threatening condition is so serious there’s only a 50/50 chance of survival. Dealing with a brain tumor is not going to be easy, that’s why The King of Gotham asked his half-brother Arthur to help Y/N while he’ll undergo treatment.

The Joker yawns, repositioning his head in your lap.

“You want a small pillow?” you pause the movie you’re both watching and he refuses.

“No,” J stretches on the couch. “These are soft enough,” he pokes your thighs and you squirm, ticklish to his touch.

Suddenly, the cell phone chimes and J reaches his hand to grab it from the table.

“Arthur is here,” he announces. “He wasn’t in a hurry, hm?” The Joker mumbles while getting up.

You decline to comment and do the same because you can hear the elevator going up to the Penthouse. You could say the anticipation is making you a little bit nervous: you’ve been with J for about 10 months but you’ve never met Arthur. Probably it’s safe to assume they are not very close yet soon after finding out about the illness, The Joker contacted his sibling to let him know and sure enough he agreed to come over and help.

Although Mr. Fleck is three hours late, it doesn’t mean he is trying to back out on his promise.

The elevator opens and Arthur emerges dressed in one of his red suits, anxiously passing his fingers through his curls. J wants to criticize and his brother is in no mood for a lecture:

“Before you lash out, I was delayed by an unexpected issue!” he keeps talking and walking in your direction. “My apologies.”

“What issue?” J growls and Arthur extends the palm of his hand, firmly shaking yours, definitely not waiting for an introduction: “Hello there,” he smiles. “I’m the older, smarter, funnier and more charming version; you must be the better half.”

“Riiiiiight…” The Joker rolls his eyes, annoyed.

“Y/N,” you smirk at the man’s remark and he lets go of your hand, explaining his delayed arrival:

“Don’t get worked up, kid. One of my projects required immediate attention and I had to sort it out.”

You expect The Joker to protest the nickname but he doesn’t mention anything: Arthur always called him that since they were teenagers and your boyfriend is used to it. Doesn’t bother him at all.

“Do you want a drink? Are you hungry?” you offer and he nods a no.

“I’m good; thanks,” he takes a sit on the nearest armchair and the couple reprises their position on the sofa.

A few moments of silence before Arthur decides to talk about the reason why he’s at the Penthouse.

“Sooo… What did the doctors find out? How bad is it?” he inquires and you unconsciously cling to J’s arm, not willing to hear about it again.

“The brain tumor is too big, I can’t have surgery yet. I already started with lower doses of medication 20 days ago, I have to gradually build up to the higher doses so my body can handle it. Soon I’ll have chemo every 3 weeks, then every 2 we…”

A low chuckle and Arthur covers his mouth in horror.

“Sorry…” he has a chance to whisper before bursting out laughing.

“Here we go…” The Joker crosses his legs, patiently waiting for his brother to finish his outburst. The King of Gotham may not be an accommodating individual, but his sibling’s condition is something he has always tolerated without any problem.

“I’m very…” Arthur tries to speak but the strenuous sounds he makes at the end of each cackle prove how much he’s struggling to control his inappropriate amusement. “…s-sorry,” he continues to snicker while digging in his pocket for a small piece of laminated paper. He finds the item and hands it over to you; you curiously inspect the writing: it basically explains his neurological disorder in a few words.

“It’s fine, J told me,” you return the information to its owner.

“I can’t believe you still have that,” The Clown Prince of Crime huffs as Arthur is slowly regaining his composure.

“I’m very sorry,” he emphasizes his regrettable outpour. “You were saying?”

J deeply inhales and reprises the briefing:

“I’ll have to do chemo every 3 weeks, then every 14 days until the tumor shrinks enough to be operable. I guess I have a 50/50 chance of surviving the whole thing, that’s why I asked for your cooperation in helping Y/N oversee my affairs. I will get worse before I might get better, thus here we are.”

Arthur pulls tissues out of the box next to him and gives them to the devastated Y/N: The Joker didn’t notice you are quietly sobbing by his side.

“Please stop crying,” he kisses your temple, avoiding your emotions like he regularly does. The best option is to divert the gathering towards another topic. “We got ready one of the bedrooms upstairs for you; I hope that’s up to your standards.”

“My standards are normal,” the truth is blurred out. “You’re the fancy one, kid. That’s why you’re The Joker and I’m Joker; I don’t need any glorification. Plus, I didn’t oppose when you picked this half of town and left me the other.”

“You’re an idiot!” the green haired man stands up from his spot, wanting nothing more than to retreat to the master bedroom after an exhausting day.

“Runs in the family,” Arthur nonchalantly hints and you snort, blowing your nose in a tissue.

“Keep your mouth shut!” J advices and you have no clue he’s referring to more than just the constant bickering going on between them. “I’m calling it quits, are you coming?”

“I’ll have a smoke on the terrace first, “Arthur searches for his pack of cigarettes and you believe this is the perfect chance to chat with him:

“I’ll stay with our guest, alright?”

“Suit yourselves,” The Joker grumbles and you follow his brother outside on the huge patio.

“I forgot how nice this is from the 30th floor,” Arthur stirs the conversation while lighting up a cigarette.

“Yes, it’s a lovely view,” you wipe your tears and he resentfully mutters:

“I fucking hate this town…”

You sigh, not wishing to interrupt in case he has more to add and the plain inquiry catches you off guard.

“How are you holding up?”

The question resonates in the awkward stillness and Y/N elects to bring him up to date.

“I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances. He’s not doing well…” you sniffle and Arthur pays attention to your confession. “The medications may be in low amount, but they are strong; they make him very confused at times, plus the side effects of the tumor… he forgets things, he has no idea where he is or… or… who I am. The doctors advised that when it happens we have to go with the flow and not push for him to recall details. His brain is under a lot of pressure and this is only the beginning.”

Arthur blows smoke up in the air, displeased with the news about his younger sibling.

“Shit, that’s rough…”

That’s surely the understatement of the year for the heartbroken Y/N.

“When he doesn’t recognize me, I tell him I’m nobody, just a person taking care of the place and he doesn’t even know the difference. I suggest you avoid any type of confrontation while he’s like that; please generalize everything you articulate and don’t complicate the situation.”

“Of course… Yeah, yeah, of course,” he is fast to agree with your guidance.

“Thank you,” you sincerely show your gratitude because you appreciate his presence. “I think I’ll join him upstairs; tonight he’s beginning higher dosage on his pills and he might have a reaction.”

“I’ll stay and finish my cigarette,” Arthur scratches the scar above his lip. “Which bedroom is mine?”

“Fourth one on the left.”

“Perfect, I’ll find it,” he waves as you return inside, eager to check up on The Clown Prince of Crime.

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

“What the … t-the hell?” The Joker stutters, groggy from the strong medications swallowed a few hours ago.

You barely distinguish his wobbly silhouette standing by the bed.

“What’s wrong?” you turn on the lamp on the nightstand, instantly aware of his wet boxers.

“I d-didn’t make it to… to the bathroom,” J seems out of it, yet at least he realizes that much.

“Oh, it’s totally fine,” you maintain your cool and jump off the sheets, rushing to help him. “The doctors warned accidents could happen since the drugs are making you dizzy and super drowsy. Let’s step in the bathtub, shall we?”

You take his hand and lead a compliant boyfriend to the master bathroom; sometimes it’s easy to deal with him in this state, sometimes it’s not.

Luckily tonight he’s obedient.

You turn on the water and he tightly holds his boxers while you attempt to yank them off him.

“Who…who are you?” The Joker sulks, unhappy with your movement.

“I’m nobody,” you reply and manage not to cry at his disorientation. “I’m here to help you, ok?” you calmly try to reason with his baffled mind.

“I… I… I don’t want you to see me naked,” he complains and Y/N has an easy solution for the apparent controversy.

“I’ll close my eyes, deal?”

You do as vowed and J lets you undress him, finally ending up in the bathtub for a quick, relaxing soak.

“You want bubbles?” you glance at him once the body is submerged under the warm water.

“No…” he yawns and you fold a towel, placing it under his head in case he’ll pass out.

“Where… where am I?...”

A faint knock at the door and Arthur talks in a low tone:

“Everything good?”

“Yes, we’re fine,” he distinguishes your reply; he just returned from the underground garage with his suitcase and discerned the commotion: made him wonder if his assistance was necessary.

“Who was that?” The Joker enjoys being pampered by the stranger he doesn’t recognize for the moment; apparently forgot about shyness also because he has no objection to the sponge bath now.

“The maintenance guy,” you lie without blinking while pouring more shampoo over J’s toxic green locks.

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

10 am

Arthur joined you and The Joker in the kitchen less than 5 minutes ago; he positioned himself against the counter, this way he has a broad perspective of the whole space. He sips on the fresh coffee, observing the scene unfolding at the table:

J is reading a magazine and you feed him breakfast, caressing his hair every few seconds. You didn’t mention anything about last night; he woke up feeling a bit better and it’s safe not to agitate him with useless facts.

“Are you hungry?” you address Arthur and he lifts his shoulders up, undecided.

“Maybe… I’ll munch on something shortly.”

“Hurry up before it gets cold,” you encourage him and The Joker is already as crabby as he can be.

“Stop bugging him! If he wants to eat, he’ll eat!”

“I’m not bugging him,” you defend your action, upset at J’s feisty attitude.

“She’s not bugging me,” Arthur tucks a rebel curl behind his ear, disapproving of his brother’s assumption.

“I’m not,” you sweetly smile and The Joker slaps your fingers away from his hair.

The cheerfulness dies on your face and you get up, kicking the chair in the process.

“I’ll bring your morning meds,” you enunciate and leave the kitchen in a hurry.

“Goddamn irritating,” J hisses at your behavior and Arthur can’t zip it.

“Are you stupid?” he sucks on his cheeks and that definitely gets your boyfriend’s attention.

“What did you say?!”

“I’ve been here for minutes and she didn’t take a single bite out of anything, too preoccupied with making sure you eat. Do you even notice how she looks at you?” he raises his voice. “So I’m asking you again: are you stupid?”

“Excuse me?!” J abandons his seat and the threatening demeanor queues Arthur about the imminent scuffle, not that he’s willing to avoid it.

“I wasn’t clear enough?” the latest provokes his sibling. “ARE. YOU. STUUUUPID?” he repeats, cracking his neck with anticipation.

You are coming downstairs with the meds and the ruckus happening in the kitchen makes you speed up.

You are certainly not disappointed at the show: J and Arthur are wrestling on the floor, relentlessly hitting one another.

“Stop it!!” you shout and your plea is ignored. “Stop it!” you insist when you detect Arthur’s bloody nose and J’s busted lip. “Are you deaf?! Stop it!!”

This is the last drop: after another shitty night and the stuff you endured recently, you are completely lacking any kind of patience for anybody’s nonsense.

You toss the vial with The Joker’s tablets on the counter, snatch the ice bucket from the freezer and fill it out with water. The ice cubes float in the clear liquid: the 8 gallons metal container is pretty large since it’s used for J’s grape juice cans.

You thud on the marble floor and dump the freezing concoction on top of the two heated fighters, the sudden shock from the unexpected impact being enough to halt the brawl.

“Ugg!!” J rolls on his back while Arthur crawls by the stove. “What are you doing, Y/N?!” he yells and you storm out, firmly squeezing the ice bucket to your chest without realizing.

The loud bang of a shut door bears witness of your justified rage concerning the altercation; how can you not get mad at such crap?!

Arthur seeks for his beloved cigarettes in the interior of his orange vest, triumphantly lightening one after failing the first trials.

“I like her,” he puffs the fumes out, leaning towards his brother because J is gesturing for the bud.

The Joker takes a deep drag, admitting for once:

“Me too.”

“I thought you quit,” Arthur points out.

“I did,” his brother answers, glaring at the ceiling. “Clean up this mess!” he orders and continues to smoke.

“Nope, we should let fate determine,” the older sibling suggests and J falls into the little trap.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

“Ready?” Arthur smirks and counts. “1…2…3!”

“… … … Dammit!” The King of Gotham cusses.

“Have fun, kid!” the winner plucks the cig away from J. “Gimme, these are bad for your health!”

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

“Are you in here?” The Joker sneaks in his office and watches you patrol around the desk, still vigorously attached to the infamous ice bucket.

The lack of reply makes him approach the distressed woman; you avoid gazing his way at all costs.

“I need my pitcher,” he sniffles and Y/N disregards his sentence. “You’re aware I like to use grape juice on ice for those bitter capsules. There’s no bucket and no ice in the freezer so… what am I supposed to do? Skip my morning remedy?”

A hint of lowered resistance and he’s taking advantage of it.

“My lip hurts,” he rubs the swollen, red spot. “I need ice for this too.”

You place your precious bucket on top of some folders, cautiously examining the superficial cut.

“Stitches won’t be necessary,” the obvious result updates a pouting J.

“Are you sure?” he plays dumb and wraps his arms around your waist. “Take a closer look, I can’t afford to walk around with chipped dignity.”

You peck the unharmed corner of his mouth, mad you’re giving into such cheap amendments.

“I’m positive…”

The Joker grins and kisses you, entirely convinced it wasn’t hard to get under your skin.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” he rests his forehead on yours and Y/N is speechless at the question. “This is the tumor talking, obviously,” J fixes the tiny mistake when he sees your reaction.

“Obviously…” you whisper, sadly reckoning he purposely avoids any type of sensitive debate about your future together.

The Joker though is carefully listening to Arthur mumbling on the hallway, suspicious at the meaning.

“Is he eavesdropping?!” you focus on the faint words also and it clicks for J.

“Cut it out!!!” he screams while Mister Fleck is not phased, joyfully concluding the ceremony the couple didn’t agree to.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Nobody and Joker!”

“What was that?!” you crinkle your nose, puzzled.

“He has a minister license and never used it; he tried to hitch me with my ex too,” J clarifies his brother’s odd conduct.

“You may now kiss the bride!” Arthur shouts and The Joker had enough:

“Shut the fuck up!!!”

“What am I supposed to do with my license then?!” the wavy hair pops in the door frame.

“I don’t care!” J snarls, fed up with his sibling’s persistence. “Go pester someone else!” the door is slammed in Arthur’s face; fortunately the 42 years old is not the type of man to be easily offended.

He adjusts the pieces of tissue sticking out of his bloody nose, proudly holding the minister accreditation at eye level.

“I got myself a sister-in-law,” Arthur chuckles at his achievement, impatiently searching for a pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his red jacket.