#she said 'you never should have been prescribed that so young and for so long.' and my entire world shifted on its axis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simpxxstan · 9 months

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the night shift

pairing: idol!jeonghan x caregiver!f.reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, a little bit of angst

summary: it’s such a surprise what just three months of your life can do to you. it can actually change your life.

word count: 10.3k

rating: 13+

warning: mention of death (not major character). a few swear words here and there. a lot of time skips, i hope it doesn't impede the reading flow!

a/n: i have officially been sucked into the world of svt and there’s no getting out of here! i honestly just got into soft jeonghan feels and wrote this. i’m writing after a very long time, and so much has happened since my last update on tumblr. i’m sorry if i have kept any of you waiting 😭. i will try to update regularly now!

i hope you enjoy reading it!

“Hello. I’m L/N Y/N.” You bowed deeply to the young man sitting in front of you in a wheelchair, a bored expression feeting in his eyes, his blonde hair falling raggedly over his face. A face you were not unfamiliar with.

The man twisted his lip in annoyance and looked at the other man in the room. “Why is she here?”

“Hyung, you had said you’d keep a nurse.”

“I don’t remember, Hoshi. Perhaps, I was under the effect of heavy medication. Because of these fucking meds-” he seemed mildly irritated as he swatted his hand about in the air. “None of these meds are heavy in any way. Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten!” The younger boy whined, and continued, “Jeonghan hyung, the company, the doctor, the members, your family. Everyone has said that this is the best for you. You don’t have a say in this,” Hoshi had stood up to hold Jeonghan’s hands down. “Hyung, please.”

The man in the wheelchair had no option but to become limp in Hoshi’s hold. Flecks of irritation still on his face, he kept glaring at you with the world’s most disinterested look. “One month.”

“Hoshi-ssi told me three months…?”

“No. One month. You work for me, I decide the rules.”

He swiftly turned his wheelchair around and went back into his bedroom.

“He’s moody these days, his mind is really fragile. I hope you understand.” Hoshi spoke to you gently. “Yes, I do. I’ve dealt with more stubborn patients, don’t worry.”

“I’ll leave you to settle down, then! Annyeong!” And the cheery young man left, after bowing his goodbyes.

You had a sense of foreboding creeping into your heart. There was perfect silence in the apartment almost as if you were alone in the entire space. But you knew you were not. How was it possible that Yoon Jeonghan could exist so soundlessly? What if he was actually not- oh god, what if he had passed out or something? You quickly go to his bedroom and knock on the door frantically. “Please, Jeonghan-ssi!” Slowly you heard one breath being released. The door slowly creaked open. The apartment became full of life again as you felt Yoon Jeonghan’s beautiful face eyeing you curiously, like his new found toy.

The first week was a chaotic one, but by the time the fortnight had passed, you knew Yoon Jeonghan was now in your grip. Idle, he had all the time in the world to prank you and tease you, even while being in his wheelchair. Sometimes he would feign memory loss and forget who you were, other times he would ask you to change his shirt after he had dropped some soup on it. If your days at the hospital, where you were interning, were tiring, your nights were even more challenging. He would fall asleep without taking the prescribed medicines, shuffle out of his wheelchair without calling for your help as he should have, and behave just like any naughty kid would. And you had no option but to scold him each time. But you could never be too angry at the man. He would smile the most angelic smile at you, making your veins burst and melt at the same time, your anger dissipating into annoyance into laughter. Eventually you would smile to yourself every time he was successful in his teasing, each feat giving him immense happiness. One successful prank, and Yoon Jeonghan was a happy man.

There were other ways to coax him into submission too. Making him his favourite ramyeon to warm his body whenever he could not sleep in the winter nights. Watching Jun’s new drama with him, and giggling over the kissing scenes, as Jeonghan would give you live commentary on how Jun would probably be behind the scenes. Combing his hair, which was growing longer by the day, into neat braids.

You had, eventually, and unthinkably, fallen into a routine.

“What is it exactly that you do in the daytime?” He had asked you once, while you were preparing breakfast for him before leaving for college. “I go to med school. Then I intern at the local hospital.”

“I know. But that can’t be it. Surely school and internships can’t leave someone as dog-tired as you come home, Nurse L/N.” He looked at you with suspicious eyes, a mischievous spark in his doe eyes. You knew he was going to tease you now.

You had, honestly, gotten used to this, and started recognizing the signs. Before you would cry out in anguish every time his teasing got the better of you. ‘Jeonghan-ssi. I forbid you from speaking ill about my favourite pen. It’s my lucky pen. I always do well in exams I write with this.’ ‘Oh, save heavens I make fun of your dearest pen.’ And he had laughed, all while knowing he had hidden the pen below his pillow. He would give it to you the next morning, a wave of relief flashing over your tense features, extremely nervous over the exam that day. ‘Don’t worry. You’ve studied so much. You’ll do well, irrespective of the pen.’ And then he had the audacity to wink. Fucking wink. After all the superstitious stress he had put you through the entire night.

“Have you ever met any person from the medicine industry?”

“Nope. No people. Some annoying aliens though, prescribing bullshit medicines to me which I don’t even need. And of course, I’ve met you.”

“You don’t even know how stressful med school is. And then, at the internship, they’ll ask us interns to do everything. Right from sanitising the scalpels, to cleaning the floor if someone spills coffee, and the very next moment, they’ll ask me to perform a minor treatment, as if I wasn’t busy polishing the floor right now.” You huffed and puffed as you served Jeonghan the sunny-side-up. He had already put butter on his bread and began eating it.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving now. Your coffee is in this pot. I’ve baked some cookies last night, while you were on that live call with fans-”

“Ooh that’s why the entire house was smelling like dogshit.”

“SHUT UP! They taste very good.”

“Dogshit? You’ve tried? A true connoisseur-”

“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ll put you in timeout.”

“No!” He instantly put on his angelic smile, pouting, his features full of aegyo, and your momentary anger melts. Oh you don’t know what to do with this one.

20 days later, you could feel the wall between you two breaking down slowly. He had become more accepting to having you bossing around the house, keeping it clean and keeping him safe. Although you worked with him only for the night shift, the two of you would often have conversations, aside from the bickering, the nonsense he kept spewing and the teasing, that would actually be meaningful.

“You’re wearing your shirt the other way round, Nurse L/N,” he said as soon as you unlocked the door and stepped into the house after finishing your job.

“Oh!” You dropped your bags immediately and made your way to the washroom attached to your bedroom to change. “That’s why everyone on the subway kept staring at me.” When you returned to the hall, Yoon Jeonghan was sitting in the same way, flicking through his phone.

“You didn’t wear the shirt wrong in the morning?” He cocks an eyebrow, and you blush all over. He had caught you. Clearing your throat, “Umm, well…” He tilts his head, letting the evening sun fall on his hair and making it shimmer. “I had a date today.”

Immediately your veins start burning as he makes his way towards you, a small smile on his lips. “Nurse L/N! How did it go?” he asks you, then doesn’t wait for an answer. “Ahh well. That’s a wrong question. If you’re wearing your shirt the other way round, it must’ve gone well.” Peeking at you, to see your blush spreading all the way to your neck now. “Who is the unlucky person then?”

Argh. Not even 10 minutes into the house and he had started teasing you.

“He’s my friend from med school. We intern at the same hospital.”

“Show me a photograph.”

“Why?”

“I want to see!”

“Why? This is personal space.” You fold your arms, going along with his teasing.

“I want to see if he’s more handsome than me.” Jeonghan declares solemnly, as if that’s the most reasonable response. And when you burst out laughing, he laughs with you too, but continues whining to see the photo. And you have no option but to yield.

When Hoshi-ssi had approached you through his manager to take care of Jeonghan for the next three months till he recovered from the accident that had broken his left leg, you had been reluctant before saying yes. Firstly, you hadn’t believed that such a famous celebrity would be requesting for you, when they had all kinds of services at their disposal anyway. Then you learnt that you had taken care of Hoshi’s aunt when she was very ill and bed-ridden, and the good feedback had flown in from his family. Hoshi’s aunt had been your second patient, your first being your own mother, who had suffered from schizophrenia, before you had lost her two years ago. Although your eyes were still wet from those memories, you had decided to take nursing up as a side profession, to pay for the bills of med school, and put your nursing skills to use as well. Seven clients later, you had landed this job- taking care of the superstar idol, Yoon Jeonghan.

“It’s a night shift. So you’ll have to interact very little with the patient. Through the day, he can take care of himself. We just expect you to keep him company as his… mental state… is really weak right now, perhaps more than his physical state,” the manager had said.

You weren’t a Carat. You didn’t even follow idol groups. You didn’t want to seem like a golddigger, and you knew well that these celebrities could throw tantrums, or even worse, ill-treat you.

But when Hoshi-ssi personally called you, you simply could not refuse. There was something so soft in his voice, laced with worry whenever he spoke about his hyung, you simply knew you had to help this man out.

And you had taken up the job.

The apartment was big enough for you to stay comfortably. Jeonghan was non-interfering in your personal matters, mostly. From time to time, he would comment on your hairstyle, worry about the dark circles under your eyes, suggest a new skincare product, and enquire about your family in all politeness. You had thought the initial courtesy he showed would die down, and then he would minimise his interactions with you.

However, to your great (mis?)fortune, he stayed up every day, even after 25 days had passed, waiting for you to come back home. He would sit at the dinner table, as you made dinner in the kitchen. He would text you, while you were at work, sometimes meaningful questions, other times random thoughts, and even more rarely (thankfully), some photographs. Of his pet rock, of a new parcel delivered home, of takeout he had ordered for lunch instead of eating what you had cooked for him that morning, of himself.

Oh, of himself.

Those selcas were the rarest, and yet you kept wishing for him to send you one whenever your phone lit up with a notification. While you would sit in the break room, eating lunch between classes, you’d wait for it. When hanging out with friends after the internship, you’d wait for it. When your date from two weeks ago, Minho, took you out to coffee, you found yourself waiting for it again.

And when it did, you’d save it instantly. Take a screenshot if it was a one-time view. Stare at it endlessly, sometimes laughing at the filters he would set up, sometimes smiling wistfully into his beautiful brown irises, looking at the camera with odd affection. You knew he generally sent those photos to you to get a reaction before posting them on Weverse for his fans. But somewhere in your heart, you had begun to wish, he would click those photos for you. Not for his fans, not out of boredom, not just to check if his face was still handsome. Just for you.

But that was the least of your problems.

Your job had turned a month old, and you paced about in your bedroom, having packed your bags already, ready to be kicked out. Although Yoon Jeonghan had been fairly tolerable these last few days, one could never understand what went about in his mind.

You were mentally listing off all the things you’d have to worry about now. You’d have to go back to your shitty paid guest room, and pay rent. You’d have to go without the extra cash from this job, barely making enough to eat four meals a day. Only somewhere in the corner of your mind, another little thought came up- you’d have to live without the living breathing caramel sunshine that was Yoon Jeonghan. You had truly gotten used to living with him- as a roommate, of course. Even with his irks and mischief, his moments of vulnerability and his fake aegyo. You had learnt to not dislike him, and now he was getting too close to your heart.

A sharp knock on your bedroom door broke you out of your thoughts. “Nurse L/N? You didn’t come to wake me up?” He says it so normally, as if you’re not combusting with nerves right now. “It’s not 8 am yet, you don’t like it if I wake you up before that.”

He yawns. Lazy, warm, still in his night sleepsuit. His hair messy, his skin looking soft and his lips looking-

“What’s all these bags for?”

“Huh?”

“You’re leaving me?” He starts to pout, making your insides like molten lava.

“I- uh- one month-” you manage to stutter out, wondering if he had truly forgotten or if this was one of his pranks. “One month’s done? Yay! I am two months away from freedom. Nurse L/N, can you please order waffles for me today, I’ve been craving something sweet!” He whirls around his wheelchair after flashing his brightest, cutest smile at you. Left with your mouth open, you already start thinking whether all the ingredients for waffles could be found at home or not.

While you would be away during the day, his members or family would come visit him, to help him dress or bathe. Every other day, you’d see him sitting with a member of his group, hearing their laughter even before seeing them when you entered the house. Sometimes more than one would turn up, and it would be a party.

They always treated you with great respect. Joshua would profusely thank you, the polite charismatic gentleman he was, for taking care of Jeonghan. Seungcheol would ask you regularly whether you were well, whether his friend was irritating you, and whether the terms of work were suitable for you. The days when his members would arrive, usually Jeonghan would switch on live, for his fans. Mostly the lives would get over as soon as you would arrive, sometimes they would continue after you arrived as well, and you’d try your best to soundlessly work through the house so as to not disturb anyone. Contractually bound to secrecy and personally wishing for no involvement with his fans, this was an arrangement suiting you perfectly.

Except one day, when he was doing the live all on his own. You dropped a small glass, and hurt your finger in the broken glass. Almost on instinct, Jeonghan had shouted out, “Nurse L/N, are you okay? Did you break something?” Hearing voice full of concern, real genuine concern, you couldn't help but reply back. “Yeah I’m okay! Don’t worry, it’s just a glass.” “Hmm, okay.”

Cleaning up your wound, you had tiptoed towards Jeonghan’s room, where he was arranging legos while streaming live. Your heart was pounding in your chest, waiting for the call from his company, asking you to resign. Knocking softly on the door, you entered, trying to signal him to not mention you aloud and asking him if the company had reached out to him to announce your dreadful fate.

“Ou?”

Facepalming yourself as Jeonghan asked you in the loudest whisper possible, you gave up. Even if your earlier reply was probably not audible due to the distance, it was so clear now when Jeonghan visibly looked up at you, and asked you, in the most innocent way. “Ou? What are you saying?” You were about to leave the room, when suddenly he introduced you, out LOUD, in front of his fans. “Caratdeul! This is Nurse L/N, she’s taking good care of me! Don’t worry for me. Nurse L/N, please say hello!” By now, you were palpitating. Your phone would ring any moment. Any- “Hello, I am Nurse L/N. I’ll take your leave now, Jeonghan-ssi,” you said, without showing your face on the camera.

But Yoon Jeonghan had no intention to let you escape. “Nurse L/N,” he cried out, with a pout on his face, his eyes shining behind his glasses, “how does my lego model look?” It was a model of some sports car. “Hmm, looks good!” “Everyone!” A smug look appeared on Jeonghan’s face, “This is the first time Nurse L/N has said my work looks good! This is all thanks to our Carats.” Taking his self-absorbed, smiling-widely-till-his-eyes-disappeared moment as an excuse, you left the room. Because another minute, and you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crossing a line.

You were well into the second month, when the panic attacks started.

They were most likely triggered by the doctor’s report that morning. Jeonghan-ssi, I’m afraid you’ll need more time to recover. Although your femur’s not broken, it’s extremely weak, and your legs cannot support your weight now. Even after recovery, I would advise you to not dance heavily for at least another month.

You had been awoken by a sharp scream in the middle of the night, no scratch that, early in the morning, as you could see the first rays of dawn streaming in through the window. Immediately you rushed to Jeonghan’s room, who slept with his door unlocked for such emergency situations. “Are you okay?”

And instead of the calm fairy you expected, you were met by a ghost.

Yoon Jeonghan was sitting upright in his bed, sweat pouring down from his forehead and arms, his long blonde hair dishevelled, and his chest heaving for air. The worst was over, you reckoned, as you gently stepped closer to him.

For the first time in two months, you saw fear in Yoon Jeonghan’s eyes. As soon as you came near the bed, he reached out to grip your hands. You whispered to him, endlessly rubbing his arms and his back, it’ll be alright, you’re okay, don’t worry, i’m here, you’ll be okay, you’re safe with me, until you could feel his heart rate slow down to a normal pace.

He then looked at you, in such an inexplicably fond way, like-

Like you were his light.

Like you were the stars in his dark night.

Like you were his world.

And you succumbed to the urge of hugging him. You pressed him gently to your body, trying to relay your warmth to his colder body, initially hesitant as to how he would receive your action.

To your surprise, he pulled you in closer. You realised it was his anxiety speaking, his fingers still trembling from the shock. And not his need to be close to you, as your dumb brain hoped somehow.

But then, he kept the hope alive.

“Stay with me tonight, Y/N.”

The entire day, you were extremely distracted, both in school and at work. Fumbling with things, clumsily dropping things, and forgetting important tasks. Yoon Jeonghan had called you by your first name for the first time. This single thought kept spiralling in your head, finding root in some delusion or the other. The entire night, you had spent with him. Hugging him first, then he had laid down and put his head on your lap. And you had stroked his hair, until he was asleep. You had sent a text to Seungcheol, asking him to come and stay with Jeonghan, as you didn’t want to leave him alone like this but you couldn’t miss classes today. He had immediately agreed, and turned up sharp at 7 am. Instead of waking up Jeonghan, you had left your blanket next to him to fool him of your presence, and left the house, leaving the man in his best friend’s care.

Last night had been a monstrous event for the tiny feeling you felt in your heart every time you thought of Jeonghan, which was actually nearly every second. Long forgotten was Minho and his stupid face and stupid voice and stupid pick-up lines. The only voice which sent warm electric shocks through your entire body was the one that belonged to Yoon Jeonghan. You kept texting Seungcheol, asking him for updates, whether Jeonghan had eaten, whether he had bathed, whether he had taken his afternoon nap, whether he was talking normally, whether his blood pressure was normal, so on and on. Even when his replies satisfied you, you were always nervous about what was happening back home.

Home.

Was the house you spent your nights in now home? Was the subway station you had now gotten used to getting off at home? Was the bedroom you slept in now home?

Or was he home?

When you did return to your home, you found the man who had occupied all your thoughts through the day sitting next to Seungcheol, giggling about something on his phone. “Oh you’re here!” Seungcheol says, popping up when he spots you enter. “Hi. I came home early.”

Jeonghan’s smile disappears, and you tense up already. You have no idea what’s coming.

“I’ll be leaving then. He’s been asking for you all day anyway,” Seungcheol smirks against Jeonghan’s little rebellious whines, and your stomach churns in worry. He bows to you, and leaves. Leaving you with the blonde little elephant in the room.

“So. How are you feeling, Jeonghan-ssi?” You ask after a while, breaking the ice finally. He shifts towards one side of the sofa, and you instinctively step forward, wondering if he wanted to get up into his wheelchair now, but he only pats the seat next to him, asking you to sit down.

“I’m sorry for last night, Nurse L/N.” There, back to just a fucking nurse. It was a slip of tongue. “You don’t have to be. This is what I’m here for. This is what you’re paying me for,” you chuckle, but he doesn’t even smile. “But I invaded your personal space-” you lean forward, hold his hand, and say, “Hey. Don’t worry. I hugged you out of my own accord.” “Because you wanted to?” he whispers, and you whisper back, your heart beating in your throat, your voice hoarse with emotion, “Yes, because I wanted to.”

“Can you do it again then?”

Quirking your eyebrows, you realised he’s being dead serious. There’s no way he could lie and tease you with such vulnerability in his eyes. And so you hug him. It’s not as close as last night, but the embrace still makes your spine tingle with happiness. You hope against hope he cannot hear your heartbeat.

When you try to pull away, he lets you, but keeps holding on to your hand.

“I’m- umm, what they call, clingy. I appreciate physical comfort. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable. You can move away when you like.”

“No. I don’t feel uncomfortable at all. If you like, we could hug more often. Or you could hold my hand. Or put your head on my shoulder or…” you didn’t want to think of his head on your lap again. You would not be able to control the urge to kiss his forehead and eyes and tiny button nose and of course, the pretty lips.

“But you have a boyfriend…”

“Huh?” You’re taken aback now. What was this? “I have a boyfriend I don’t even know about?”

“That boy, Minho? You went out on dates with him?” He looks confused. You bite your lip, “Oh. No, I lost interest. We didn’t date, at least seriously.”

“Oh," you saw the clouds in his face clearing.

So he was worried about your boyfriend being uncomfortable with a grown man hugging you for emotional support? Jeez. What did he think your taste in men was?

"Can I make another request?" God, what's this tone? You had never heard it before but you could sure get used to it. Pouty-faced, soft voiced Jeonghan was definitely your favourite. As if you could ever say no to him.

"Hmm, go on?"

"Can you sleep in my room today?"

You wish you could say no to him.

“In your bed?”

“No, I think your bed can be shifted to my room? It’ll fit also. It’s a single, thin bed.”

You know it will fit. You also know your room is big enough to fit another queen-sized bed. But when you’re that close, how will you be able to tolerate the distance?

“Hmm. I think it could fit. But I think it’s too heavy for me to carry today… maybe I can ask some help from neighbours or friends tomorrow and set it up in your room? Meanwhile today… I could bring a mattress and sleep on the floor.”

“No!” He cried out. “I mean- you can always sleep next to me.” He smiles, a little angelic, a lot devilish. You know he’s teasing now.

You take away your hand from his, and you can see him begin to whine at the loss of warmth. “On the floor then.”

But yet again, as dawn breaks, he screams awake again, and you notice tears rolling down his cheeks also. He hides his face from you when you sit next to him to calm him down, embarrassed of his tears. You wipe them away with your hands (and not with kisses).

And that’s how he falls asleep again. He lies down fairly far away from you, at least an arm’s distance. But your hand is still in his, and you can’t sleep, overly conscious about drifting towards him in your sleep. You’re content just taking in his beautiful face through the sunrise, drinking up his features like you’re parched, wishing you could put your fingers at each spot on his face, feeling the bone and the muscle and the skin, feeling his breath.

“If you don’t mind me asking… what triggered your nightmare?” You ask him the next morning. Good heavens, it’s a free Sunday after ages, and you had been looking forward to this for weeks now. You had so many plans- ordering food for brunch, catching up on your favourite k-drama, buying a new pair of shoes. But you realised- all of these plans involved Jeonghan. You couldn’t imagine doing any of this without him.

You’re sitting with Jeonghan in the small balcony of his apartment, which overlooks the city almost entirely. It’s a serene view, the sunshine not too harsh, and Yoon Jeonghan hasn’t let go of your hand ever since last night. You hadn’t pushed him too far for answers yesterday, thinking it was a one-time thing. But today, you were getting more curious and worried.

“Ummm… I’m not too sure myself? I just have a lot of thoughts these days.” You stroke the thumb of his hand which lies in your palm now. “What thoughts? Do you miss your members? Your fans?” “Yeah, I do. But it’s not like that just…” You know he’s hesitating, but he’s seconds away from crying. “Jeonghan-ssi. Go on. I’m here.”

After a VERY long pause, he says softly.

“You know how the doctor said I’ll need at least another month, even after this hiatus of three months, before I can go back to my normal self, being an idol.” You hum in between his pauses. “I’m scared, Nurse L/N. I’m scared… they’ll forget me. And even if they don’t, I’ll be disappointing them. I won’t be able to meet my fans’ expectations anymore. They won’t get what they deserve from me.”

“No one deserves anything from you. You don’t owe them anything.”

“You don’t understand,” you can sense his voice getting hoarse and louder. “Fans aren’t easy to explain to- and to be honest, which fan wouldn’t be upset seeing their favourite idol isn’t going to dance well any more? Hell, I’m probably no one’s favourite idol anymore.” He looks away from you, his hand already retracted from yours.

“Jeonghan-ssi. Firstly, if you really care about your fans so much, they most likely care about you a lot too. Of course, they’ll understand. And secondly, have you checked twitter? Or instagram? They keep talking about your health, and look forward to your live videos-”

He smiles, “Yeah, they’re asking about you too.” You ignore the statement and continue, “I understand where your vulnerability is coming from- but you can only improve your mindset by not thinking of the worst case possible.”

He doesn’t say anything. His face is still sullen, dark clouds storming in his eyes.

“Jeonghan-ssi, you’re not that easy to forget, and less easier to replace. I don’t think your fans will forget you so soon.”

He looks at you, his lips pursed in a hopeful trance. You know he’s still extremely scared of the future, but then, who wasn’t? It was only natural to be afraid of uncertainty. You gently pat his head, and ask, “Is one of your band members going to come today? For bathing and dressing you…?”

Frankly, you didn’t understand why they couldn’t keep a full-time caregiver who would be professionally trained to do all the work required. But you had seen Jeonghan’s attitude the first time you suggested this. No. I’m not an object for pity, and caregivers will pity me. Plus I don’t trust them. I trust you, I trust my members. I’m only safe in your hands. You had wanted to ask why he trusted you- was it because he knew you really needed the money and a good place to stay? But you had simply nodded and left the issue.

“No. I didn’t ask any of them to come today. They have a shooting schedule today.” His voice sounded even more feeble. He probably missed being on set with them, laughing as a whole, playing games, singing and enjoying themselves. From the videos of their show, Going Seventeen, which Jeonghan had himself shown to you, you had noticed how solid their bond was, and how comfortable they were around each other, easier than friends, stronger than family members.

“Oh.” This meant you would have to bathe him. Shit.

“I’m throwing my shirt!” “Yeah.” You waited outside the door of the washroom as Jeonghan stripped inside, and threw his shirt through the slightly open door. You had become extremely flustered at the thought of dressing and undressing him, but he had provided a simple solution.

Although you doubted how simple it was, when you could hear him struggling to get his pants off. “Nurse L/N. I think I’ll just bathe with my pants on!” “No! Don’t be a dirty boy. Do you want me to help?” You asked, breathless. “No,” you could hear his sigh, “I’m fine. I’ve got it off. Here, catch!”

Then there was the sound of the shower opening, the slight squeak of a tap, and a tune being emitted by the man showering there. You left quietly.

It was around 3 in the afternoon when you both had finished bathing, lunch, folding up laundry (you) and singing random songs (him), watching one episode of a k-drama (him) and wondering why hearts ached without any attack (you). “I’m going to take you out. Enough of staying indoors. It’s eating into your brain.” You announce.

He almost jumps with you, but then winces. “But where? I don’t want to make a public appearance to collect sympathy and pity.” “You’ll see. You said you trust me, right?” He smiles, “Ayy. Human trust doesn’t go that far.” But you can see the excitement build in his eyes. “It’s a surprise.” “Surprises are not nice.” You tie up his eyes with a blindfold, leaving him no option but to huff and puff and whine and sulk.

But this surprise is nice. Jeonghan’s face lights up like a million watt bulb when you take off his blindfold and reveal him sitting in his dance practice room, all his members standing around him. He squeals in joy, and they all start talking instantly, making it too loud a chaos for you to decipher. Hell, you haven’t even been able to tell their voices apart yet.

The man you know as Channie, comes to you and bows. “I’m so thankful to you for bringing Hyung here. Thank you for taking care of him!” Another man, Seokmin, joins him, and they both smile at you widely. You blush, suddenly caught off guard by the attention, and excuse yourself from the room, leaving the boys to their antics. You text Jeonghan that you’re going to meet up with your childhood best friend, and you’ll be back to pick him up whenever he calls.

But he never calls you back. The members carry him around- they go to some restaurant, eat barbecue and drink a hell lot of beer, and then they drop him home. You had returned a couple of hours back, and when you see three strong able-handed men entering the house with Jeonghan, you take the chance.

“Jeonghan-ssi. Do you still want me to bring my bed to your room?” Although the other three men stare at Jeonghan quizzically, he solemnly nods. Seungkwan asks you, “Are you sure that’s okay with you? I t’s a really weird request!” Mingyu adds, “Yeah, Hyung, if you need her anytime, you can just call out for her, she’s anyway in the same house.” But Jeonghan won’t have it. “Yah, please. Nurse L/N, please.” You sigh and say, “He’s not feeling strong enough to sleep alone. It’s okay, I’ve done this before. I understand the need for physical comfort.” “Are you sure?” Seungcheol asks you, and you nod your consent. Then he says, “We’ll help you bring the bed then!”

That night, Jeonghan slept on his own bed, and you on your own, but he said he felt more relief knowing you were around him. I’m worried for you too, you know. Worried? What on earth for? Nothing, just. I’m feeling over-protective for everyone who matters to me right now. It was safe to say you slept in a constant dream-like state. Jeonghan did not wake up that night, and even if he did, it didn’t wake you up. You woke up only to your alarm next morning, breaking your haze of dusty, autumn dreams of blonde ponytails, flowers in a garden, and a pretty face belonging to the man lying next to you.

Third month in, and you were feeling a little under the weather. Perhaps it was the flu passing around in your college for a while now, but you had been strictly banned from going to the hospital (an order you had cried and begged your supervisor to take back, fearing this was the premature end to your internship, but he had calmly asked you to come back when you were well). Jeonghan, meanwhile, was now out of his wheelchair, and simply walking about using a pair of crutches. He was in a better mental state now, as the nightmares became fewer and less intense, and his general moodiness also dissipated.

But of late, he was being too affectionate towards you. Perhaps it was the reason behind you falling in. His sickly sweet smile whenever you complimented him for walking well, his blush of shy satisfaction when he completed any small task you gave him. One day you stepped into the house and almost screamed before the man sitting on the sofa turned around and showed you that it was none but Jeonghan, with his hair dyed black now.

And dear heavens. That black mop of hair would kill you.

For, if blonde Jeonghan was an angel, an embodiment of sunshine, a picture of innocence, black-haired Jeonghan was all of that but a slight rough edge to him, making his features even sharper and his eyes even deeper. It was all you needed to stab a dagger in your heart every day. Now that you’re stuck at home on a leave for 10 days, you have nothing to do except look at this man, laugh at his antics and calm down the growing anxiety in your heart as to what you’d do after these three months got over and your contract would expire. And even though you never voiced your worries out loud, Jeonghan somehow caught them.

“How many months are left till you graduate?” “About five months?” “Hmm. You can actually stay in my apartment throughout and not go back to the shitty place you showed me pictures of.” You gawk, “You’re crazy, how could I ever do that!” “No I’m serious, Nurse L/N.” You stick your tongue out, not interested in his pity offers. “You know what your problem is, Nurse L/N?” Your face is still turned away from him. “You’re just so stuffed with pride. That’s why you’re not taking the medicines I’m giving you at correct times.”

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“I’m fine.” You stress on every syllable, but Yoon Jeonghan can’t seem to take the hint and buzz off.

And that’s your biggest issue. He doesn’t even tease you as much as he is genuinely caring for you now. As if you’re really his friend. You wonder what has brought about this kind of absurd change in him. It’s not like anything had changed in how he saw you. Nurse L/N.

You were wrong about his teasing nature mellowing down. The next morning, when your supervisor had called, you had been in the washroom, and instead of just letting the call go until you returned, he had picked up the call and introduced himself as your Oppa.

Indigestion just had to hit you that very day.

You had no option but to let your blood boil in embarrassment as you overheard the entire conversation, helpless and frustrated.

“Yes, umm… she’s really stupid. She keeps forgetting stuff, you must know hahaha. No wonder she’s totally forgotten about mentioning me. I’m her local guardian haha.”

You hoped he would clarify something about the Oppa tag. Mention that he wasn’t your boyfriend. Mention that he was your brother or something. Or even an older friend, but in vain. Jeonghan was hell-bent on spreading rumours in the hospital about your love life, one would think.

“Yes! I know. She’s recovering now, I’ve been taking good care of her.”

“Oh no, she doesn’t have any family per se. She just has me.”

“Aaah no no, it’s no like that…” you could hear his voice ambiguously trail off, leaving several loose ends. This must’ve been a question about that-

“Oh sure! Thank you. I’ll let her know asap. Yes, yes tomorrow. Thank you.”

After three minutes when you emerged from the washroom, pissed and stressed, Yoon Jeonghan was smiling to himself while watching a video on Youtube.

“What was that call for?”

“Which call?”

You stare. He budges. “Oh, your supervisor had called. He was asking if you can join back tomorrow. I said yes.”

“Why did you pick up?”

“Why not! Would you rather lose the one chance your supervisor gave you to come back?” He smirks, knowing he had hit your weak spot. “But even then. You’re not my Oppa.” “Huh? I’m four years older than you!”

“Jeonghan-ssi. Just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean you can introduce yourself as my Oppa. Are you dumb or do you not understand the connotations of such an introduction?”

There was a pause.

“What would you suggest I’d introduce myself as? I didn’t want to say my name-”

“Her friend would just do. Or her neighbour. Or her classmate from college.”

“Those wouldn’t have had similar connotations? Any boy answering any girl’s call would have similar connotations, Y/N-aah.”

Another pause. Maybe he hadn’t realised he had called you by your first name.

“Then you should have just introduced yourself as the patient I’m taking care of in the night shift. Everyone knows about that, Jeonghan-ssi. Honestly, anything but Oppa. You’re not my Oppa.”

Before he could reply, you take your phone from the table and lock yourself into your room for the rest of the morning, too overwhelmed to say anything else or even look into the eyes of that dangerous man.

There had been very little conversation between the two of you through that day and the next, before you left for work again. He had tried a lot to initiate conversation with you, weird questions interrupting the silence now and then. But you were honestly too stressed to take any of his excuses and forgive him.

How dare he call himself your Oppa, when in three weeks he was going to simply forget you totally? How dare he even call you by your first name and break the professional formalities that were standard? You had thought the first time, that night, had been a slip of tongue in feverish delusion. This was no delusion. In bright daylight, he had crossed the line and called you by your name.

Although it shouldn’t matter much, you rationaled. Oppa could mean a dozen different things. No one would assume it meant boyfriend.

But oh, you were so so wrong. You knew it as soon as you stepped into the hospital after an extremely tiring day at university, and saw people staring at you. You reached your supervisor’s cabin to mark your attendance, and he too gave you the weirdest looks. The peak of the entire farce was when Hyerin, your closest friend at the internship, whispered to you after hugging you warmly to welcome you back, “YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU HAD A BOYFRIEND?!” Aargh.

“He’s not a boyfriend. He’s just the patient I’m taking care of. He randomly messed with me and introduced himself as my Oppa.”

“BUT I HAD NO IDEA HE’S LIKE A YOUNG GUY? I thought he’s a sixty-something fellow, no offence to old men who call themselves Oppa-”

“Yeah he’s a young guy. I told you he had broken his leg?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Breaking legs doesn't require the person to be old. It was an accident while he was crossing the street.”

“Still! This changes thing, hmmmm” she smirks, and you know where it’s headed. “Being in close quarters with a man only slightly older than you… are you sure he’s not dashingly sexy? Not a sugar daddy type? I could come and help you in your nursing job then.”

“No, and no. He is pretty good-looking, but I don’t care. Now move and let me start my work before boss comes and sends me on a leave again.” Hyerin wasn’t that close to you to know about the deepest secret of your heart. No one except your one childhood bestie knew about it. And you both had sworn on your childhood rings to never divulge secrets.

To make matters worse, you played a voice note sent by Jeonghan loudly, as soon as you got out of the operation theatre. Right in the corridor.

In your defence, he had sent three messages just before and after that, definitely impatient that you hadn’t heard his voice note, saying URGENT!, and you had fallen for the bait. Instantly playing it, without realising your volume was full, you cringed and almost threw your phone away instantly.

Napipopeta piripu pipiretta. Napi-

“You’re watching Instagram reels at work?!” Somehow your supervisor had also come out into the corridor and had heard the voice note. “You know social media is banned when you’re on duty!”

“Sir, I was just listening-”

“No arguments! So irresponsible. You’ll be staying back till 10 pm today, Y/N!”

“Okay Nurse L/N. Enough of the silent treatment. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be something I’m not… I just didn’t think of the consequences as much. Sorry, please?” He gave you the softest puppy eyes ever given by humankind, as you ate the ramen you had made for dinner.

You hadn’t uttered a single word since returning, just too upset and tired. But now you had to say it. “Was that voice note a joke?”

His eyes widened, “I- I just sent it… thinking your mood would become better hearing it… my fans really like that song…”

You bite your lower lip.

“My boss heard me playing it. That’s why I came home late.”

He stays silent for a minute. “I’m sorry if it got you into trouble. I just thought…”

And out of spite, just out of spite, and pent-up emotions spilling over, you say the worst thing ever.

“Your voice can never make my mood better, Jeonghan-ssi.”

Something had snapped between the two of you since that day.

You had tried to build up a wall between you two, trying to keep distance that you felt was necessary to get your heart used to what was just coming within two weeks. He tried to break that wall, going out of the way to be with you, even helping you study for an exam coming up. He was needing lesser and lesser care by the day, as he regained strength in his legs, and was quite determined to live by his old habits. He would leave the house without waiting for your support, he would cook sometimes, he would also do the laundry.

He did everything to make you feel lesser and lesser wanted in the house.

And you really took the cue. You started minimising your interactions. Even sleeping in the same room became too difficult for you, and you spent many hours on the couch before going to your bed, waiting for him to fall asleep. You would limit conversation to the necessities, taking all possible steps to reduce his dependency on you.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks you, one night, after you both had lied down in your beds but it was obvious that sleep eluded you.

“What?” You whisper back, hesitant. “This. Becoming far away from me.”

There are massive pauses between your replies, and you can hear him holding in his breath through the entire pause.

“You anyway don’t need me much. It’s only best if I move away from you.”

“Physically perhaps- but I thought we could be…”

“Hmm?”

“Friends. Are we not friends?”

Friends. You had stopped wanting to be friends for a very long time now.

“It’s not possible. You and I belong to different worlds, as cliche as it sounds. We can’t be friends.”

“Why not?”

“Have you seen how your fans have taken to stalking me on my social media? I’ve had to delete my accounts everywhere. If they find out who I am, they’re not just going to kill me, but the contract and all the payment I got from this job will be forfeited.”

“Kill you? Isn’t that too extreme?” You can hear him shuffle closer to your end in his bed, his voice closer to you now.

“They’re going to brand me as a golddigger. And even if they don’t kill me, I’ll definitely kill myself then.”

“There, again you and your pride.”

“You’re laughing at my self-respect?”

“No, I respect it. Not many can be so stoic.”

“Goodnight, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Nurse L/N.”

You don’t want to reply. You pretend you’re asleep.

“Y/N-aah.”

You know he’s heard the change in your breath and he continues. “There are really just six days left?”

“We can reduce it if you like.”

“Can you not be so snappy? It’s really not funny anymore.” He sounds agitated, his voice on the verge of breaking.

“Are you really saying this to me? Why do I have the responsibility to make it seem funny? You have a problem with me having real emotions too?”

“I never said I have a problem with anything. But this attitude of yours is, frankly, uncalled for, in my opinion. Or you’re not telling me something I should know. And this is bothering me.”

Another pause before you reply.

“I’m going to leave in six days, Yoon Jeonghan. You better stop being bothered by me.”

You don’t know what’s come over you. Suddenly you can’t breathe in the house anymore. You don’t even want to call it home these days.

Ever since that conversation, Jeonghan had stopped putting in as much effort. You had far overstayed your welcome, and he really needed you to be gone now. Maybe get a girlfriend to visit him. Must’ve been sad without sex for three months for him. Your heart ached every morning when you saw him as soon as your eyes fluttered open- an angelic face, his mouth slightly parted open as he slept in his dream world. You wanted to kiss him (honestly every minute nowadays you did, even if you burnt yourself up, that desire did not disappear.)

It was a crush, you convinced yourself. Finals were coming up, you’d get busy, you’d forget about him. Easy peasy. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to delete the little gallery of pictures you had formed in your phone- including photos he had sent you, photos of him that you had taken, and the three photos of you two together.

The first had been clicked on the night when he had let go of his wheelchair and first taken up the crutch. Many of his bandmates were there, and they had all cheered loudly. Because you had been standing right next to him, holding his arm to stabilise him, Wonwoo had clicked a photo of you too right at the moment when he was looking into your eyes with the joy of letting go of the wheelchair, and you were looking right back at him. It was a coincidental photo, and a photo meant to be only of Jeonghan, but you kept smiling when you looked at it. It almost gave the illusion that it was … for lack of better words, a photograph of affection.

The second was a selca. Correction, it was Jeonghan’s selca, which he had clicked without you even knowing, so you were obliviously watching the drama on the television, eating ice cream. He had even posted it on Weverse, blurring you out obviously. But his fans had caught the second hand in the photograph, zoomed into it, and somehow figured out it was a female hand, and then conducted several polls amongst themselves whether it was his girlfriend, his sister, his mother, his friend or his nurse (how would they ever know though?). The results of the poll had been varied, and some had even claimed: guys we don’t know if the nurse and the girlfriend are different people hehehe you know what i mean!! Ugh, these conspiracy theories.

The third one had been the most recent one. You were on a video call with your childhood friend, and he had just entered the room without knocking. He had said hi to your friend, who had smirked and giggled and tried to make suggestive comments until you winked at her to shut the fuck up. Finally he had left after asking you some really redundant questions, making you wonder why he had even entered your room. Your best friend had taken a screenshot of the two of you talking, and she had practically squealed over call god, he’s so handsome!!!! And he’s so in love with you!!! Did you see how he was doting on your face with every word you uttered?! AWWWW! Y/N, I’d say wife him up immediately!

You had laughed then, and you laughed at it now. Every time you scrolled through this secret gallery, you had nothing but a fond smile tugging at your lips, no matter how distant you wanted to make yourself from the man, who had slowly, but surely, taken up all of your heart, and was showing absolutely no intention to leave.

You packed your bags and stood in front of the door, waiting for Jeonghan to bring whatever he was looking for in his bedroom. He had vehemently protested against you helping him, and as a result, a search that could’ve been completed in seconds, was now taking minutes.

Eventually, he appeared. He had a bag for you in his outstretched hand, and you silently took it from him. Peeping in, you saw everything was wrapped with paper. “What’s this for?” “Thank you, Nurse L/N for taking care of me.” He smiled, continuing, “I don’t know why you’re angry at me. But I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way. Please accept my gift.” Your heart was melting with each step he took towards you, eventually so close that you could see your reflection in his eyes. It was too close for you to breathe, but you realised you wanted to get used to this proximity.

“Thank you, then. Jeonghan-ssi, you’ve been an excellent employer these past three months. Thank you for taking good care for me, as well” and you lightly bow.

“How do I see you again?” You’re stunned. Why does he want to see you? “Do I have to break my leg again?” his whispers grow ragged.

You try to crack a joke, “Or you could break an arm,” but he doesn’t smile. He seems impatient for an actual answer. “Or you could call me. We can hang out once every couple of months, if you’re free. Or you could just… you know, call and talk.”

He wants to say something, but your phone begins to ring. Your best friend must have arrived downstairs to give you a ride to her house. You had decided to stay with her for the remainder of the university term.

“Goodbye, Yoon Jeonghan-ssi.”

“Goodbye, Y/N. I’ll miss having you around.”

You don’t believe him. You think he’s just being nice. But oh, somewhere deep down, you hope it’ll be true. You smile at him, tight-lipped, but genuine. He doesn’t smile back.

And just like that, you’re gone.

The next month, you don’t hear from him at all. Your internship has also ended, and you’ve started studying hard, applying to various specialisation courses, and basically trying to forget him. It works, frankly, because with your closest friend around, you have your mind on other things. Such as her extremely toxic situationship, which she doesn’t even realise is harming her, but you keep warning her to step off. Such as her mother baking cookies for you as winter sets in. Such as visiting your own mother’s grave once every week, to give her flowers, a new ritual you’ve set up.

It’s on one of these bus rides to the park which has her grave that you cross the hospital where you had your internship. And you spot, your eyes instantly going wide, a certain familiar someone standing at the bus stop right outside the hospital.

You’d have recognised him from miles away. Even if it’s really late in the evening, the twilight setting in, you can recognise him.

You want to look away and continue the ride to the original destination. You want to ignore him. You want to push away the thought of him waiting (for who?) in front of the hospital where you worked at while staying with him.

But you can’t. You immediately step out of the bus, paying your fare, and walk up a little bit to reach the spot he’s standing. He’s looking the other way so he doesn’t really notice when you come and stand behind him. Until you cough a bit.

And you’ve never seen Yoon Jeonghan smile this brightly before. Never. Not while you were in his house, not even in the videos of him that miraculously come up on your Youtube algorithm now.

“What are you doing here?” you don’t know why, but your voice cannot go beyond a whisper. In the empty streets after dark, he can hear you clearly though.

“You came.” he whispers back.

“You were waiting for me?”

“Who else would I wait for in front of the hospital you worked at?”

“I don’t work there anymore. My internship is over.”

“So I heard. But I had no idea where you live now, and apparently it’s not safe to go to your university if I have to keep you a secret.”

“But waiting in front of a hospital in the dark is safe?”

“It’s a hospital. No one is looking at me here. I’m not the important person here, for anyone.”

You can’t help but say, “You are, for me.”

The stars are out, the cars are flashing by, and you’re walking alongside Yoon Jeonghan on a silent road. Sometimes your arms brush, sometimes he smiles too much for your heart to take, sometimes you look at him for so long that he breaks eye contact. For once in your life, you don’t want to overthink this. Even if tomorrow you wake up and realise this was a dream, you want to live the best dream of your life till the end.

“Hey,” he whispers when you zone out. You’re standing under a streetlamp now, the smell of flowers from the trees around you filling the air. You’re 100 metres away from a tteokbokki stall, and you want to ask him if he wants to eat some, but he holds your hand at that moment.

“Y/N.”

“No more Nurse L/N?”

“You’ve stopped being Nurse L/N for me for a long time now.”

Your heart stops. He grazes his thumb over your pulse point. You think you’ll combust.

“Your palm is sweaty, Y/N. Are you nervous?”

How can you not be when he’s right there, in front of you, so close… but still so far? You don’t know how you landed up like this, after an entire month of avoidance, but knowing that he came every evening to look for you in front of your hospital, waiting till the shift was scheduled to get over, has melted your heart beyond control.

“You’ve cut your hair again.” You finally say.

“Is it looking nice?”

“Hmm… makes you look sharper.”

“Huh?” His eyes are becoming wide now.

You take your other hand out of your pocket and touch his hair with a featherlike touch. “But it’s still so pretty. You won’t cut me, will you?”

He smiles, and leans in, and you can sense him breathing you in. You must be smelling like sweat and grime by now but he doesn’t seem to care. Eventually he places his chin on your head and time has stopped. You can’t help but snuggle into the warm cavity of his body, gently placing yourself against his strong chest, as you can feel now. And somehow, his hands leave yours, and wrap themselves around your back.

It’s a hug.

And then it’s a kiss on your forehead. A kiss on your scalp. And a kiss in your hair. And you snuggle deeper and deeper into him.

He pats your hair gently, and you mumble into his chest. “What took you so long, Hannie? Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” it’s half feverish you know, you don’t even expect him to reply. And yet he does.

“Oh, but Y/N-ah, I’ve been coming to you forever, why did you keep pushing me away, baby?” And you spread your hands around him too, pulling him deeper, until you’re both too squished, and have to move apart for air.

But only a little bit, just enough so that you can see his face, and he holds your face in his big palms.

“Y/N-ah. Do you want to come home with me? I want to watch a new episode of the k-drama with you. I’ve really fallen behind it without having you to watch with.”

You smile, his eyes glitter up with the reflection.

“Of course. But only if you promise to hug me more.”

“No. No more hugs. Can I kiss you?”

You suck in a deep breath, lips parting already, at the wonderful tingle going through your body. You could cry right now, with the time he takes to move in and place his lips on yours gently.

And you do cry. One stray tear escapes your closed eyes, and he kisses that away too.

“Hannie…”

“I’m yours, Y/N-ah. If you’ll have me, forever yours.”

“Of course I’ll have you.”

“Sorry if I kept you waiting for long.”

“It’s okay. You’re worth the wait, anyway.” You smile as you press a kiss on his nose, his little button nose you’ve always found cute. You stand up on your toes and kiss his eyes and his eyebrows and his forehead, but then he stops you. “Baby, let’s go home and then you can kiss me?”

How can you ever say no to Yoon Jeonghan? How could he even think that you’d say no?

“Of course, Hannie. I love you.”

“And I love you, baby.” Another kiss on your lips, and you know you’ve seen heaven. Because if Yoon Jeonghan isn’t the equivalent of heaven, you don’t want to know what is.

#jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #svt #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen fanfic #MY FIRST SEVENTEEN FIC LESSGO #svt my heart #the night shift

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radio-to-trenchcoat-demons · 8 months

Text

First few pages of Ghost Stories (by me) is Out!!! Enjoy!!!

!heads-up! i put any other language in red for it to be easier to read, the story basically self explains the sentence and translates it for you so need to worry about language!!!

Languages Contained: Spanish, Portuguese. (more but we'll have to see how the story progresses)

GHOST STORIES

By Unt1t3d

Position for Hire: “J”

I don't like offices. I don’t know if it's because they mean that something uncomfortable is being discussed or that I didn’t organize anything myself, knowing that contents are probably where they don’t belong. This tossed here, That cast aside there. But this office I hated the most. Not only was I uncomfortable, I was being pestered about “How I felt” and, “What I should do to get on a healthier path in life”. I’ve never liked the ‘this is a safe space’ shit they rant.

I didn’t need to get healthier mentally, I needed to get better physically. I needed money. “Justice, are you alright?” The Therapist was nagging me, I noticed. “Huh? Oh, Yeah. I agree.” I spaced off a lot so I just pretended I knew what anyone was saying in a conversation. “ I was just saying that you should get your work papers in order. I think a job might be just what you need to get yourself in the right headspace.” She said like she was talking to a toddler, writing notes on her notepad. Wow, I’m touched, she’s concerned. Aren't they all? I’ve had enough of the sympathetic 'Are you alright?’s Honestly, a ‘you're a crazy mother fucker’ once in a while is perfectly fine to balance out the chaos.

“So is your medication working? Do you still see…them?” She's talking about the shadowy friends of mine! Yeah, I still fucking see them even though you have me on enough meds to call me a drugaddict! In fact, I saw one on Tuesday, SUSAN. I’ve always been able to see them, even when I was younger, and they blamed it on a very rare, very young case of dementia. But these…things, aren't just figments of my imagination. They have minds of their own, taunting me all the time. It's the reason he’s gone.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen them in a while.” I say with a smile, so that she won’t prescribe me another pill. “Don’t we end in a few?” I say to hurry her along. She taps her skull, as if she’s just now remembering I have a life. “Oh, you’re right! Then we’ll pick this up next week.” Ew, I didn’t want to pick this up again next week. “Um, I’m going to get my papers organized, remember? I’m getting that job. So, if I just notify you, I don’t think meetings will be necessary as of right now.” I say impatiently with a weak smile, tapping my foot at godspeed. Man, she’s slow on the update. Maybe if She's smart enough she’ll realize what I’m trying to say.

She gathers her things, clearly not in her right headspace as she throws it all recklessly in a tote bag. My OCD impulses twitch. “Oh, wow. Yeah, that is right! You have a way better memory than me!” she said over-enthusiastically. No wonder she was alway re-scheduling. “I suppose that’s alright, but if you're ever stressed, or need someone to talk to, call my number.” She said with a deeply concerned look. To be truthful, I lost her Number, but that’s just between you and me. “Yep. In fact, I’ll have you on speed-dial, just in case.” I tell her, my enthusiasm weak and my social battery draining fast. “Okay! You have a good rest of your day then!” She says with a cheery smile. Right, like hell I will.

Yup. Sure will. Time to go home to Mamá and step-daddy and scrub the house clean, and cower away from David’s leather belt. I hate to be brutally honest like I always am, but they’re half the reason I’m in debt for these damn medical bills. I walk down the long flight of stairs and out of the building. Ugh, finally, I’m free.

-X-

I hung my keys and walked into the kitchen and shouted, “I’M HOME!”. No response, of course. I opened the door to my room and took a deep breath. Now I’m home. I closed the door because, privacy ya’ know? I hung my messenger bag on a decorative rung I had 3-d printed in sophomore year of Computer Design. I glanced at my neat wall of vinyl records with bands like “Nirvana” and “Los Campesinos”, right next to the picture of me smiling with my father. On my desk was a stack of books, things I was borrowing but now belong to me, a cup of pencils, and my PC setup I made myself, stickers plastering the frame.

I flopped on my bed, tired as hell. I pulled out my phone and selected a playlist, closing my eyes and drifting in and out of sleep. I dream of the shadows and VHS tapes changing and a loud static in my head. Everything is so unilluminated, and I’m scared, frightened out of my wit at whatever could come out of the wispy darkness. “Jay '' someone says. I look in the darkness, trying to detect where the voice is ringing from. “Jay” I feel a hand on my shoulder. I jolt awake and rub my eyes. When my vision focuses, my mom is standing in the middle of my room, cigarette in hand. “You were screamin’ again. Did you take your damn pills?” No, I hadn’t. I was supposed to take them even if I took a two minute nap. Or else I screamed like a madman.

“David isn’t coming home tonight.” She said, taking a drag of the cancer creator. “ ‘Work’?” I say, not looking at her. She breathes out. “Yeah, ‘work’. I figured you could use the stove tonight then.” She takes one last look at my room and walks out, her shirt askew across her small curved shoulders. She’s not the same anymore. After my dad died in that plane crash, she’s been doing all the wrong things with all the wrong people. I don’t understand why she would want to be in a relationship with that abusive fuck ‘David’ or whatever anyway.

But she still does little things like this, letting me know if and when David’s going to be home, and letting me use the stove to make my empanadas and arroz Rojo or ‘foreign food’ as David calls it. He doesn’t let me cook because it’s too ‘spicy’ for him.

I pull out all my spices and ingredients, ‘Summerland’ by Half Alive still playing in my ears. I’m in the zone, everything how I want it. Cooking the arroz and frying the meat and sauce for empanadas, carefully avoiding the paper cuts on my hands when dicing the jalapeno and cilantro. In the midst of cooking, I decide to make dessert, having a hard time picking either Tres Leches or Concha Bread. I would ask Mamá, but she was half asleep on the tattered La-Z-Boy in the parlor. So I just decide based on what we have the most. A few hours later, mom wakes up, the smell of authentic Mexican food calling her. “Gracias por la comida hijo.” She says, eyes only half open. “De nada mami.” Spanish is another thing David doesn’t like. He can’t understand ‘taco bell’ as he calls it. “Pronto conseguiré un trabajo.” I’m getting a job, I tell Mamá. “¿un trabajo?” she says with no surprise. “¿Sabes cuál?” Do I know which one? I was so focused on getting out of my meetings for a bit,that I hadn’t actually thought of what I would do. “Quizás algo en informática. Se paga bien.” I told her about my computer science classes and how the area of work paid well. Well enough to finish paying the debt to the bills I owed.

“¿Cuándo te convertiste en un hombre tan adulto?” When did I become such a grown man? She looks at me. “uh, el mes pasado mamá.” I had just turned 18 last month on November 7th. I was already an adult, technically. Mamá just looked at me and shook her head. “Ya sabes a qué me refiero, joven.” She said sassily. I laughed, enjoying our little corner of the universe, where we were safe. I brought out the Concha Bread and Mamá’s eyes lit up. “Mi Favorita! ” I smiled at her happiness, “¡Solo para ti! “. Just for you! “Hijo, ¡me estropeas!” You spoil me, She says with a laugh.

We finished dinner, and I tucked Mamá into bed. I piled up the dishes, planning to do them tomorrow, and pulled out my phone to look at available jobs in my area. I pulled up Yelp and look for an IT job. No such luck. I tried Indeed next, again, nada. The hours passed, websites were searched, and still, no IT or Cyber Security jobs in my area.

I give up and try to find a decent paying job not too far from home.There are some alright ones and then there's the ones that look a little shady. I filter out my results so I don’t wish myself an early funeral. And then I found it, THE GOLDEN JOB!!! The golden job is this thing me and my computer friends would do when we were job hunting. You search for a job, filter it, and whoever had the best job at the end could dare anyone to do anything (within reason of course). One time, my friend Alex won and he got everybody to buy him something from DQ.

But this job seemed too good to be true. Just down town in the suburbs, away from the city, is a fancy estate house. The owners died a few years ago and this little old lady is looking for someone to clean it up for resale, as she is getting on in her years. The pay is good enough to pay for my bills though. All that's left now is to make the call…

Question Everything: “Wil”

Do you ever get that feeling that you’re constantly being watched? Like eyes are constantly trained on you? As if existing is a cause for concern. “Hey Wil,can you pass me the arroz?” I snap out of my daze, “Huh? Oh sure, Tio.” The house is hectic today, cousins running around and Aunts and Uncles drinking and talking. Nobody in the family liked to be around me and Tio Hector felt bad about that, so he sat with me at all the family meets.

“Ei, você está bem?” Tio says, I smile dancing on his lips. I play along, “Sim, só pensando... e você?” I’m just thinking, what about you? I say this with the same smile playing on my lips. Tio just laughs, “You silly, I’m always fine! Como foi a terapia hoje?” He asks about therapy. He cares but I don’t need therapy. We’re just wasting money we don’t have. “Ah, o mesmo de sempre. Ela apenas traz à tona as mesmas coisas…” Same old, Same old. The lady doesn’t even have a plan for me to get ‘better’. Tio just smiles and says, “Talvez ela esteja louca!”. He bursts out with laughter, making the house feel a little more homely.

Some more family members enter the kitchen, filing up on more drinks and food. I feel so uncomfortable around them, as they do around me. A hate/hate relationship, I guess. Tio sensed my unease and acted as necessary. “Ignore-os, eles estão aqui apenas para ficar bêbados e conseguir babá de graça.” He said they’re alone at the event to get drunk and get free babysitting. He knew this would make me smile, because not only was it funny, it was true.

I stand and push in my chair. “Vejo você mais tarde, tio. Tenho que ir para casa. Trabalho ocupado para ser feito.” Tio stands, “Trabalhar? OK, te vejo mais tarde. But don’t stress yourself! Or else you’ll end up like Aunt Maria!” He laughs. We hug and I leave, off to drive to my small apartment.

-X-

I got in and locked the doors and tossed my keys anywhere, I didn’t care at this point, my stuff was already everywhere. Boxes were still piled up from a month or two ago, from when I left the family house and moved out on my own. I toe my way on my cold floors, slowly inching my way to my room. LED lights are strung up, drawings and sketches hung up from AP Art classes. A picture of me and Tio sits on my nightstand. We were at a fair, eating bad funnel cakes and playing games. He won me the very avocado plushie that rests on my bed right now that day.

My laptop rests on my desk, covered in stickers I had designed myself, still open on my DAW program with a music track in queue. I slam it shut, too tired to even think about any actual work. I collapse to the bed. I don’t fall asleep, but just lay there. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with more scars. I lay horizontally, drinking in the late afternoon sunlight, absorbing all the details of my room. It’s kinda like when you’re waiting for something but can only leave at a certain time, so you wait and actually notice all the little things in your life.

A boom rings from upstairs. Ugh, the neighbors. I finally decided that I had rested long enough and had to do something productive. The therapist said something about getting a job or whatever, so that I could ‘get myself in the right headspace’. I already had a job, but it was one my family didn't approve of, and if I mentioned that to the therapist we would have a WHOLE discussion about ‘how that made me feel’ or, ‘what I could do to change their perspective’.

I didn’t have the time for that, and hell, I needed a buck. So, restlessly, I snatch my laptop and open Yelp and Indeed and other numerous job websites and applications. Hours later, you would think I would discover a decent art job! Even a graphics designer looking for an assistant in the heart of New York! But Nada. I gave up a half hour later, deciding to just filter my results for easy, high paying jobs in a calm area (so that way I wasn’t lost in Time Square).

What comes up is some crack-head craigslist kinda shit but some of the jobs are promising. I filter again to get rid of the cuckoo's and 9-5 jobs, settling for something more temp style. This narrows down my search even more, drastically not giving a fuck about my opinion, and only showing one or two results. Eenie Minie Moe later and I found the thing to shut Susan up about the job. A cleaning job, high pay, pick my own hours, AND! When the estate sells I get 2% of the profit sold. It’s this little old lady, selling the home and land of her dead son and daughter-in-law, just wanting to get it in shape before resale.

I applied for the application and got it sent. I go to the kitchen to eat some trashy dried ramen in a bowl I haven’t washed in a week, and decide what time my body wants to deal with sleep and pain.

-X-

I woke up late that morning, my knees bloodied. Fuck. I tip-toe to the bathroom and get out my huge first aid kit. I disinfect and clean, avoid infection and patch it all up with a huge band aid. I've learned the art of self-aid with my eyes closed and hands tied by now. Fixed, for now.

I checked my phone, surprised to see a notification from the lady with the estate this early. She says my application checks out and that the latest I can start today is 11:30 am. Well, at least I can choose when I leave. I glance at the clock, gauging how much time I get to blow before leaving to find the property. 10:29…okay. Shower, skip breakfast today, and attempt to clean. Like hell I'm gonna clean. It’s just not in my nature anymore.

Flashforward and I’m running to my car to get there on time because my sense of time is horrible. I showered and barely had time to get my boxers on. So, looking like a lunatic, brandishing my disheveled hair and soggy bandaids barely hanging on by a thread, I booked it to my car.

more to come soon!!

tagging:@thinkingaboutctommy @paldeanbooper (my writer buddy:@wiblursaystuff) @vibestillaxxx @gay-mooshrooms @colleenispunk @wormsinsdirt (another writer buddy:@teagica)

#al was here!#hector estaba aqui!#proceed with caution at my blog #my work!!#al writes...#Hector escribes...

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innerstar-u · 2 years

Note

Okay, AG did terrible with the HP line, regardless but I am a conservative trying to understand.. are people just mad because she doesn't have the same POV, because what I got from her tweets was she was being so polite about having a different opinion, even saying she supports lgbt, more than AG even is.. and as for her racism.. is this only because of fictional racist commentary? because it's fair to acknowledge it is a problem also in the fictional world too.. doesn't mean the author is in fact...

all that being said and I still think she leans left, probably is feminist anyway, and did not support trump or the conservative party even in Britain.. so are we all just going to assume she is all the above... as in are we to assume conservatives are as such, and that she must be one ??

my other question is, who is JKR talking about... like is she actually referring to trans women who are using the platform wrongly, as in taking advantage of women's sports and privacy? or is she really meaning harm to the entire community... I just think there needs to be context considered, and rules as well as exceptions because we do have young girls to protect either way. most importantly why are we buying AG when they never show their support for LGBT to begin with.. ever..

Just to make it clear to everyone who follows me, this is an American Girl blog.

I don’t want it to become a political blog. That’s why I’m responding to a bunch of asks in one post so it doesn’t clutter up the dash more than the previous asks already have. The only reason I’m even discussing JKR or trans issues is because of the AG x HP collab. Bear that in mind before sending me another ask in the future.

Read the entire post below the cut before sending me another anon about JKR, trans issues, or religion as it relates to views on LGBTQ+ issues.

Also I genuinely have no idea who sent what anon, so I’m going to reply to a few of the asks in my inbox that all have the same kinds of questions. I’ve put them in the order I think they go in. I think there are two of you at least? A couple of these messages are more polite than others, so going forwards don’t come at me making assumptions, regardless of who sent each one.

Sticking it under a cut because this could get very long. Also TW for discussion of sexual assault and general transphobia.

First thing I'm going to say is I don't really care where JKR leans on other political issues. I'm not interested in talking about conservatives vs liberals. I'm talking about transphobic views specifically. At no point have I referred to JKR as a conservative, so I’m not sure how this got brought up in this discussion.

I’m also not interested in discussing trans rights and personhood as a whole through the lens of potential criminality. The number of transgender people “using the platform wrongly” is so, so, so small, if it even exists at all.

- We have literally no evidence that there has ever been a trans person who assaulted a cisgender woman or girl in a bathroom. Or a locker room. Or anywhere that’s designated as being exclusively a space for women. Or really anywhere. (It doesn’t even matter how someone identifies in whatever bathroom because sexual assault is still illegal. Please just let people pee comfortably while minding their own business.)

- Transgender people are far more likely to be sexually assaulted than cisgender people. Full stop.

- There is not enough research done on transgender athletes to make a blanket statement about whether they should be allowed in sports or not. We are doing the research now. From what we know right now, trans women have some advantages in sports...but they also have some disadvantages as well. I strongly suggest you read the article in full because it’s the most thorough, least-biased article I’ve found on the topic.

While we’re here, did you know that cisgender women undergo hormone replacement therapy all the time? After menopause, many cisgender women have to take hormones (the same ones prescribed to transgender women) to replace estrogen no longer made sufficiently by their own body. You didn’t bring that up at all, but I’m bringing it up because I think it’s always important to remember that the dividing line between "cis person things” and “trans person things” isn’t so clear-cut. We’re not some foreign species. Trans people are just like you.

Now, onto JKR.

You ask “is she really meaning harm to the entire community” and to that I say it doesn’t really matter. She IS harming the entire community. Her rhetoric has been used to strike down important protections for LGBTQ+ people.

The number one concrete thing that tells everyone that JKR does not support trans people is her repeated support of the LGB Alliance. This organization claims to support lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and other individuals under the gay umbrella. However, the LGBA is an anti-trans hate group. If you don’t believe me, name one single campaign that the organization has funded that does not involve trans people or gender identity. Everything they put money into has to do with blocking transgender people from accessing healthcare and other necessary services, rather than helping gay, lesbian, and bisexual people.

She has expressly denied the fact that transgender women are women and gotten upset at others for affirming that fact. This brings me to some issues with how she and other trans-exclusionary feminists define womanhood. Are we really defining “woman” as a set of genitals? That seems demeaning, especially given that there are many people out there who are literally born without functioning reproductive organs. What about the idea that men are physically stronger than women? What happened to the feminist ideals from the 1970s where “women can do anything men can do”? Also I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to cross someone as strong as Rhea Ripley, regardless of what gender I was assigned at birth. JKR’s narrow definition of womanhood denies the womanhood and even personhood of people who don’t fit the stereotypical ideals of the female sex. That’s not just trans-exclusionary. That’s blatant sexism, probably of an internalized variety. You know a woman is having a tough time in life when she’s stereotyping and demeaning her own gender.

Additionally, another not-so-great thing JKR does to both trans and cis people: whenever someone agrees with her views on transgender people being some sinister threat to women, she’ll post their support message in a screenshot where she blocks out their username. When she doesn’t agree with them, however, she puts them on blast, retweets them directly, and sends her supporters after them to harass them. That’s dangerous behavior.

You ask “are people just mad because she doesn't have the same POV” and to that I say it’s certainly not about that. A “different viewpoint” does not demean other people. We call it hatred and bigotry. A normal, healthy, different viewpoint is something like “I think we should put tax money into space exploration programs,” not “I think transgender people are criminals who shouldn’t be a legally protected group.” And that’s exactly how many people see us. That’s how JKR talks about us. JKR makes it clear at every turn that she sees transgender people as criminals waiting for an opportunity to attack someone in a bathroom, even though studies show we do not do that. How is that a neutral viewpoint? How is that just a different POV that should be respected? I don’t respect people who demean others for just living their lives.

As for her racism, it’s not just the core Harry Potter books. It’s not just allusions to chattel slavery and antisemitism, though those are pretty bad if you actually reread the books through a critical lens. Her expanded-world “American” wizards take a questionable turn. She rewrites Native American/Indigenous legends and claims them as her own. Imagine if your family wrote a really good story and then some wealthy woman who doesn’t share your history or culture decides to rewrite it, misrepresent you and your family, and claim the royalties as her own. Native American and Indigenous people from tribes all across North America have been begging for all people to treat their stories with respect for generations. However, a rich, white, British lady is making bank off of stories that she isn’t even representing properly. That’s not cool. Rewriting a culture’s history for one’s own benefit is a racist thing to do.

while i understand people are capable of being religious and good, then why do we have a hard time accepting JKR or some conservatives that share differences, but both to me can be respectful about it, unless you think only small minded about conservatives or conservative leaning. because it just seems like you don't share the same feelings about politics, even though we know just like you said, religious people can be allies, or otherwise be respectful people why are you not extending the same treatment? it just seems hypocritically biased, and on top of that how do you believe in any religion that shares the commandments that openly talk against lgbt still..like do you just ignore it..?

This ask makes no sense because we jump from religion to JKR to me not being conservative to the Ten Commandments. I don’t know where to start on this ask because I’m not totally sure what the question is.

I think you’re asking “If religious people can respect LGBTQ+ people, why can’t you respect JKR for having a different viewpoint?” If I’m reading that right, that doesn’t make sense. Those are two separate issues. It seems you are equating JKR and transphobia with having religious views, despite the fact that she has never cited a religious reason for being against rights for trans people.

We’re still not talking about conservatism as a whole. We’re not talking about religion as a whole. If this is the anon who sent that first ask about religion, AG, and LGBTQ+ rights to me, you apparently did not read my response at all. You can be religious and/or conservative and also support human rights, something that you state and then proceed to forget in the above ask that I’m responding to now (once again assuming this is the same anon).

Also you need to read the Ten Commandments again because they say literally nothing about being LGBTQ+. Literally nothing. The parts in the Bible that some people interpret as talking about being gay likely had more to do with temple prostitution, rape, and incest. (TW for anyone reading that link for discussion of those topics.) And there’s some theological evidence that Adam and Eve were the first transgender people. I can’t find a link for that (I’ll update this post when I do), but in summary some theologians consider this because Eve, a woman, came from the rib of Adam, a man. In order for this to happen, Eve would have to be transgender and/or Adam would have to be initially genderless.

btw I am a different anon, that other one was rude, doubt they are conservative also.

??? So everyone whose tone you disagree with is not conservative? Maybe check that logic, anon, because I think you’ll find that many people, conservatives included, can be jerks on the internet.

like if you say boycott Jkr, but aren't telling people to quit religion that purposefully won't marry lgbt couples, and believe you're sinning..and then the same with supporting AG who is obviously supportive of jkr.. I just mean to say your hatred towards one woman, who was abused by her first husband btw, is more than the religious leaders that enforced conversion therapy etc... like how is that something to get past?

You’re making assumptions and putting words in my mouth. Where have I said that people should keep beliefs that are homophobic under the guise of religion? Where have I said I support conversion therapy or the refusal to marry LGBTQ+ couples?

People can follow a religion and not hold homophobic or transphobic beliefs. People who do hold those beliefs should challenge them and work to become more supportive of people who are just trying to live their lives. End of discussion.

Where have I even said I hate JKR? I actually feel sorry for her because of all the times she has made it clear that she doesn’t have faith in women to be strong and make their own decisions in life. I hate some of her views, not her. Views can change with time, but I won’t be supporting her financially until change happens. JKR actually holds a few views that I agree with, but she disagrees with my mere existence. She demeans me and my fellow transgender people. She insults the intelligence and strength of female-bodied people. As a result, I don’t want her or her works in my life, and I think any other rational person shouldn’t either. Simple.

I am still open to talking about the above issues, though future replies may be much shorter or simply a link to this ask because I feel like I’ve said most of what needs to be said already. Read the whole post and the links before sending me another ask on these topics.

As per usual, anything that is directly and obviously transphobic or otherwise bigoted will not be published or responded to. I won’t reward purposeful and open hatred with attention.

Genuinely, I hope this post was helpful to people who actually want to learn. I hope those people have a good day.

#ask #oh boy howdy this is a long one #I think the mobile formatting for this is going to suck so my apologies to everyone on mobile #I can't fix that but let me know if the desktop version is wonky and I'll see what I can do

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tonopahfallshq · 2 years

Photo

Name: Nathanial Donovan Age: 39 Occupation: Owner of Lust Time living in Tonopah: Native Neighborhood: Downtown Gang Affiliation: VP of the Sons of Silence Face Claim: Sebastian Stan

Biography: (tw: drug abuse, physical abuse)

Being the second child to welcome Mr and Mrs Donovan didn’t bring as much joy as their first, Nathanial was the baby, the toddler, the child that rebelled enough to always find himself being held in comparison to his perfect sister; Lydia. A running theme that always imprinted on his brain until one day he was old enough to understand and want to please his parents, (though it was mostly Harold). His father’s approval was the praise he found himself always wanting to sought, which only fuelled him to do well in school and with his studies, at a young age it was more of a need so he wouldn’t be shouted at, in a way his sister Cassie was. Despite this, in their younger years they were as thick as thieves, both mischievous yet Nate was just better at hiding it— a shameful memory that he kept with him. Hindsight was always a funny thing, right? Looking back he’d recognise that maybe he wasn’t that sly, just that his father always took his anger and outrage at his younger sister, something that he never really had his eyes open to— until the night Cassie left for good, early hours of the morning a heated argument had Nate being witness to physical abuse, his sister leaving and never looking back, him instantly jumping to Harold’s throat, not willing to look the other way and accept that as their normality.

Despite his changing views on the man he idolised, he still found himself enrolling within the police academy, that imprinted scar deep within his brain not yet being able to adjust his father’s life he was leading. It wasn’t until he unfortunately— or more fortunately, for Nate, gained an injury during his training that had him stuck and incapable of performing his usual daily tasks, allowed him to reflect on the path he was heading down. In his identity crisis moments, not really knowing who he actually was, he pulled out of the career he had built up to, the darkness parts of his mind had him take more and more of his prescribed medication up until the point he became reliant; addicted and not being able to truly function without OxyContin. Eventually his pain relief didn’t hit his addictive needs and he sort for a harder drug, all while knowing that he couldn’t continue to lie for the signature that would ease his mind, he took to dealers, getting his heroin high to numb every single nerve in his body. It was Cole Monroe that had pushed him through his own version of rehab, getting Nate clean after a deep spiral, as well as crazed fix on the woman who said she’d wait for him to get clean. Alicia. The most breath-taking woman he’d ever laid eyes on—- her beauty never reflected to her heart as when he was sober and vulnerable enough to let her see him, she was gone.

Finding his footing and the life he wanted to leas only created a struggle for Nate, even to the present day he doesn’t know who’s looking back at him in the mirror, yet he seems so well put together from the outside. Vice President to his long life friend, owner of Lust— an establishment he originally took by sheer brute force from an overly handsy male, only dangling the wad of cash from his bloodied hands afterwards, a business that also enabled product for the Sons to be stored and moved. Each choice he made had always been a subtle subconscious “fuck you” to his father; chief of police. You really did get wiser with age and the more years that past by for Nate, the more he wanted to be that solid protection for his younger sister, something he should have been decades ago, yet he was constantly making up for lost time and never not backing in her corner. That’s not to say he never looked out for Lydia and Logan, he loved them entirely the same even despite the affiliation differences. His siblings to present day, are the only family he finds himself caring for; only being able to see Harold Donovan as the man that took a hand to his own blood.

Headcannon:

Will protect his sisters like his life depended on it— even if it’s not welcome.

Has a one eyed ginger Maine coon called Chip.

Smokes enough cigarettes to have his doctor concerned yet doesn’t stop as it eases his nerves

Is not able to hold down a relationship; fear of not being good enough still prominent.

Avid boxer, takes part in illegal fights.

Can be a sarcastic little shit but his hearts as good as gold.

#nathanial donovan.#sons of silence.#male.#tfhq.characters

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shop-korea · 5 months

Video

youtube

‘BRING - IT - ON: FIGHT 2 THE FINISH’ - EAST - LA

EAST - LOS ANGELES - CALIFORNIA - CA

THEY - DIDN’T - OBEY - HER - THE ASSIST

BECAUSE - A - VIRGIN - WHAT - SHE YES

WORE - THEY - WANT - SKIN - THEY - DO

WANT - BARBIE - LATINA - LIKE - TRUE

CHANEL - OF - ‘THE - CHEETAH GIRLS’

THEY - WANT - HER - 2 - LOOK - LIKE A

LEADER - HER - HAIR - THEY - WANT

HER - 2 - SHOW - MORE - SKIN - THE

ULTIMATE - ‘LATINA - BARBIE’

THEIR - CAPTAIN - WITHOUT - TRUE

THINKING - IS - ‘BARBIE - LATINA’

SKIN - BEAUTIFUL - SHOWS - WHO

SHE - IS - BEAUTIFUL - WHILE WE

ARE - YOUNG - AND - NON-WRINKLED

BUT - SAD - THEY - DIDN’T - SHARE

WHAT - SHE - NEEDS - 2 - LOOK XO

LIKE - WHAT - A - LEADER - LOOKS

LIKE - SO - AS - THEY - HAVE - NEW

LOCATIONS - SAME - FAILURE - AS

2 - LOOKING - AT - MAGAZINES

WHO - KIDS - AND - TEENS YES

LISTEN - 2 - WHO - THEY OBEY

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A - FAMILY - JUST - 2 - HAVE

OBEDIENT - KIDS - WHO WILL

LOVE - AND - LISTEN - 2 HER

THEIR - LATINA - MOTHER

SCHOOL - IS - ALSO - A - BREAKING

GROUND - ON - HOW - 2 - SUCCEED

BUT - TEENS - KIDS - NEED - 2 B YES

TOLD - WHAT - 2 - DO - LIKE - DISNEY

‘PROM - PACT’

SCHOOL - PSYCHOLOGIST - NOT

ALLOWED - 2 - PRESCRIBE MEDS

SHE - SAID - ‘I - CAN’T - TELL YOU

WHAT - 2 - DO’ - WRONG - WRONG

TEENS - KIDS - NEED - 2 B - TOLD

WHAT - 2 - DO - WHETHER - THEY

OBEY - OR - NOT - IS - UP 2 THEM

KIDS - OBEY - 2 - MAKE - PEACE

NOT - BECAUSE - THEY AGREE

ALSO - AS - THEY - ESCAPE THE

LIFE - THEY’RE - TOLD - 2 - LIVE

BUT - PUBLIC - SCHOOL - WE’RE

CLOSING - AS - DEMOCRATS - AS

THEY’VE - NEVER - TOLD - THEM

WHAT - 2 - DO - AS - THEY - $$$$$

MURDER - ROB - NOT - TOLD YES

WHAT - 2 - DO - CLOSING - DOWN

OF - WHO - NEEDS - 2 - TELL THEM

WHAT - 2 - DO - AS - KIDS - & TEENS

HOLY BIBLE - GOD’s - COMMANDS

GOD - TELLING - US - WHAT 2 - DO

NOTHING - LESS - 2 - LIVE - THE LIFE

HE - GAVE - US - ON - EARTH - GOD

CONSTANTLY - TELLS US WHAT 2 DO

CLOSING - DOWN - OF - VIOLENT AND

STUPID - PLACES - TELLING - KIDS

AND - TEENS - IT’s - UP 2 U - NO NO

NO - DUMB - PLACES - NOT TELLING

KIDS - AND - TEENS - WHAT - 2 - DO

CLOSING - DOWN - OF - THEYRE

WASTING - OUR - RESIDENTIAL

PROPERTY - TAXES - AS THEY

MURDER - ROB - GIVE ASSAULT

AND - BATTERY - VERBAL ABUSE

CRUEL - AND - UNUSUAL - TRUE

PUNISHMENTS - INFLICTED SAD

CLOSING - OF - PUBLIC SCHOOLS

CLOSING - OF - PUBLIC - MANY

COLLEGES - UNIVERSITIES WILL

B - CLOSED - ROBBERY - OF $$$

NEVER - LEARNT - ANYTHING IN

COLLEGE - THOUSANDS OF $$$

NOT - GOING - 2 - MIAMI - DADE

COLLEGE - OLD - PEOPLE - ARE

STILL - LOOKING - 4 MY GRADES

MADE - MISTAKE - SHOULD HAVE

GONE - 2 - WHERE - GIRLS - KISSED

GIRLS - IN - THEIR - GARDEN - TELL

ABOUT - THEM - 4 - EXPULSION - ME

SHOULD - HAVE - FINISHED - JUNIOR

SENIOR - HIGH SCHOOL - ALL SPORTS

INCLUDING - FOOTBALL - CATHOLIC

FULL - UNIFORM - GOD - BEAUTIFUL

NAVY - TOP - BOTTOM - LONG SOCKS

WHEN - COLD - GORGEOUS - & - COED

UNFORGETTABLE - PROM - FOOTBALL

GAMES - THEN - USC - FOOTBALL TOO

HIGHER - SAT - SCORE - MORE - ADDITION

2ND - YEAR - PRINCETON - UNIVERSITY

MARCHING - BAND - ACCOUNTING TOO

3RD - 4TH YEAR - UNIVERSITY OF PARIS

THEN - NOT - HOMELESS - MIAMI WOULD

HAVE - BEEN - FREE - TRAINS - AND FULL

OF - MURDERS - ROBBERIES - WHAT

HAPPENED - 2 - ME - CHANGES - USA

FOREVER - 4 - WE - HAVE - DECLARED

WAR - ON - THE - USA - HAITI - SPANISH

SPEAKING COUNTRIES - KOREA 4 EVER

300 MILLION - CHINESE - MALES

FRONT LINES - 7′1 FT - 7 FT

2ND - LINE - 6′8 FT - 6′7 FT - 6′5 FT

HOW - POSSIBLE - OUR - LASER - AS MY

TOKYO - MALE - SCIENTISTS - INCREASING

OUR - HEIGHTS - AS - GIRLS - WE BECOME

5′9 FT - IN - LA FITNESS - BLK - MALE - USA

KINESEOLOGY - SAID - I’M - REALLY - LIKE

PIA WURTZBACK - HUGE - EYES

HUGE - BREASTS

THAT - MY - PARENTS - ARE - PHILIPPINE

I - CAME - FR - VAGINAL - AREA - OF LIKE

PIA’s - MOM - MISS UNIVERSE - 2015

BELIEVE - ME - MY - EYES - ARE - NOT

SPANISH - HUGE

MY - BREASTS - ARE - INTERNATIONAL

SILICONE - NON-LEAKABLE

THEIR - LEGS - HAVE - ALWAYS - BEEN

UGLY - AND - SO SO

MY - LEGS - ARE - EUROPEAN - TRULY

SPECTACULAR

HE - SAID - OF - NO - MAYBE - I - AM

EURASIAN - ASIAN - EUROPEAN

I - TOLD - HIM - I - KNOW - I’M - FR

MY - TOKYO - MOM’s - VAGINAL - AREA

WHEN - SHE - WORE - LIGHT - COLORED

SKIRTS - DRESSES - I - SAW - TOKYO

JAPAN - NERD - GIRLS - L SIDE - AND

TOKYO - NERD - BOYS - R SIDE - AS

THEY - HATED - EACH - OTHER AND

FOUGHT - A - LOT - IN - PUBLIC TOO

HER - LAST - WILL - TESTAMENT

CERTAIN - TIME - BODY - CREMATED

NATURALLY - I - CAN - TAKE - A LOOK

HER - PINK - KIMONO - GONE - THEIR

SANDALS - CREMATED - WITH - HER

ONLY - THINGS - LEFT - HER JEWELS

WHICH - WAS - CLEANED

ONLY - HER - JEWELRY - SURVIVED

HER - NATURAL - CREMATION - THE

CLOTHES - SANDALS DISAPPEARED

SAID - I’M - SAME - HEIGHT - AS HER

WITH - MANUAL - MEASUREMENT

THAT - 300 LBS - COWS - STEP ON

DR BLAISE KOVAZ - ALSO - HAS YES

MANUAL - HEIGHT - AND - SCALE AS

THEY - ABUSED - ME - ALSO - JUST 2

SHOW - MY - VAGINAL - AREA - AS NO

USA - GYNOCOLOGIS/OBYN - EVER

SAYS - PAPS SMEAR - 4 - NON-VIRGINS

WHO - ARE - ACTIVE - 2 - STOP - YES

CERVIX - CANCER - DEADLY/PAINFUL

NOT - 4 - VIRGINS - BUT - AGE 246

WHAT - U - DEAL - WITH - AND SO

DR HISPANIC - INSISTED - CALLED

BIRTH CONTROL - A - JOKE - THAT

HER - MEN - CAN’T - KNOCK - UP

ANY - GIRL - ON - PILLS - 2 DAYS

RESENTMENT - OF - MOMS WHO

ARE - CATHOLIC - THEIR RELIGION

LOST - THEIR - POWER - AND GRIP

12 KIDS - REQUIRED - BY - PRIESTS

SO - THEY - RAVAGED - WHIPPED

BLED - BACKS - UNTIL - 12 - KIDS

PRODUCED - BEATEN - BATTERED

MURDERED - AFTER - 12 KIDS TOO

BOXED - KICKED - WHIPPED - AND

WHIPPED - THEN - WATER - LATER

VINEGAR - PUT - ON - BLOODY YES

BACKS - AN - AMERICAN - FEMALE

AND - CLINIC - INVENTED - WORLD’s

1ST - BIRTH - CONTROL - PILLS AS

THEY - WERE - ARRESTED - AND

YOUR - POLICE - 2 - KEEP - OTHERS

SAFE - EASY - 2 - KNOCK - UP EASY

WOMEN - BURNT - BIRTH CONTROL

IS - IMPORTANT - CLINICS - BURNT

THEIR - BUILDINGS - LOCAL POLICE

BURNT - THESE - BUILDINGS - AND

ARRESTED - ALL - WOMEN - WHO

THEY - ASKED - WHERE - ON THE

PILLS - BLK - POLICE - BOXED - THE

BLK - FEMALES - ON - THE - PILL - 2

HAITI - MALE - POLICE - ALL - OVER

MIAMI - THEY - CAN’T - ARREST ON

BIRTH - CONTROL - PILLS - YES

ANYMORE - THEY’RE - NOW - YES

ARRESTING - WHO - USE - TENTS

AIR - MATS - THEY - WANT - ALL - 2

B - ON - SIDE - WALKS - MY - TENT

MADE - IN - CHINA - IS - DESIGNED

4 - MIAMI - POLICE - NY - POLICE

CA - POLICE - LAPD - NYPD - ETC

THEY VELCRO - UP - 2 C - BLONDE

AND - HER - PANTY - SHOWING - IS

ASLEEP - 2 - IDENTIFY - BRALESS

BLONDE - AS - THEIR - PEE PEE

ERECTS - LESBIAN - MIAMI - POLICE

FEMALES - AS - THEY - TOUCH YES

THEIR - BREASTS - AS - THEY - HAI

ORGASM - BLONDE - NO - BRA - AS

SHE - SLEEPS - HER - PANTY - ITS

SHOWING - AS - VELCRO - BACK

THE - L SIDE - R SIDE - IT - YES

ANSWERS - IF - THERE - IS - XO

ANYONE - INSIDE - TENT

MIAMI - FUTURE

LIBERAL - PARTY

REPUBLICAN - PARTY - OF - FLORIDA

STRONGER - GUN - RIGHTS

14TH - AMENDMENT - REMOVING

LAST - PART

SECTION 1

I FEEL - SORRY - 4 - THOMAS JEFFERSON

CANDLES - FEATHER - AND - INK - 2 WRITE

ALL - AMENDMENTS - AND - CONSTITUTION

ONLY - LAWS - OF - USA - AGE 246

ALL - THEIR - SPEECHES - EXTREMELY

DIFFICULT - AND - SO - LONG - COULD

NOT - UNDERSTAND - NEVER - WANT 2

UNDERSTAND - THEIR - ENGLISH

MY - ANCESTOR - SIR PATRICK HENRY

VIRGINIA - LAWYER - I - UNDERSTOOD

HIM - HE - WASN’T - EXCITED - ABOUT

CONSTITUTION - AND - AMENDMENTS

ALL - THESE - MEN - WERE - FIGHTING

EACH - OTHER - LOTS - OF OPPOSITES

... ‘NOR - DENY - 2 - ANY - PERSON

(POOR - NO - MONEY - EVER - HOMELESS

TAX - EVASION - PERSONS - DISABLED OR

MISSING - BODY - PARTS - KIDS - ETC)

WITHIN - ITS - JURISDICTION

(MIAMI - DADE COUNTY)

(CITIES - LISTED - UNDER)

THE - EQUAL - PROTECTION - OF THE -

LAWS

THESE - PARTIES - MIAMI - POLICE AND

HONORABLES - JUDGES - COUNTY YES

EMPLOYEES - REMOVING - WORDS HAI

‘EQUAL - PROTECTION - OF - THE LAWS’

LISTEN - HOMELESS - THE - POOR - WITH

NO - MONEY - NEVER - HAD - MONEY THE

DISABLED

COUNTY - EMPLOYEES - OF - FLORIDA

WEEKDAYS - EMPLOYEES

NEW - WORK - LAWS

6 DAYS - MON - 2 - SATURDAYS

2 - STRETCH - OUT - 25 HOURS

‘UNTIL - THEN’ - COUNTY - EMPLOYEES

WILL - B SINCE FLORIDA - NOT GRANTED

NEVER - ALLOWED - OPEN - CARRY - ANY

WEAPON - FIREARMS - COMBAT - KNIVES

TEXAS - 28TH - STATE - OPEN - CARRY

NOT - FLORIDA - 27TH - STATE - FORMER

TERRITORY - WAS - SPANISH - COLONY

HONORABLES - 14TH - ‘WITH - DUE YES

PROCESS - OF - LAW’ - JUDGES - ARE

PROTECTED - DURING - COURT - BY

MIAMI - POLICE - AND - RIFFLES - SHERIFFS

MORE - PROTECTION - THAN - KINGS - TRUE

OTHERS - ARE - DISARMED - SO - WE’RE YES

CLOSING - ALL - COURTHOUSES

$700 TRILLION - FR - TAXES - EVERY - 3 MONTHS

EVERYONE - GIVEN - SAME - TIME - THUS - THEY

ARE - DOING - FELONY - ‘HINDRANCE - DELAY OF

INCOME’ - JUDGES - DON’T - MAKE - MUCH

WHEN - CRIMES - HAPPEN - THEY - PROFIT

POLICE - SHERIFFS - GUARDING - MAKING

$$$$ - COURTHOUSES - CLOSING - ENDING

ONLINE - 24/7 - ANY - LULL - IN - TALKING AS

ALEXA - TAKES - OVER - WITH - ALL - THE

EVIDENCE - SUBMITTED

CRIMINAL - OWES - $1.7 BILLION

3 DAYS - STATE - PRISON

REMEMBER - ALL - ABOVE - PROFIT

WITH - CRIMINAL - ACTIVITY CRIME

MANY - HONORABLES - LOW - GPA

PUBLIC - DOMAIN - PUT - 2 PRISON

ILLEGAL - WORK - HUGE - $$$$$$$$

FINES - BASE - ON - GRADE POINT

AVERAGE - MANY - GRADUATES R

UNEMPLOYED - BEST - 2 PRESIDE

JURY - DUTY - SELECTION - DONE

IN - ADVANCE - SECONDS - 2 YES

ANSWER

2383478392047203

24728937Q3097430

73984729047238047

ADD - THEM - SECONDS - YES

CAN’T - ANSWER - ONE

THANK - U 4 - TRYING - 2 - BECOME

JURY - EMAIL - SENDING - 2 - ASK

4 - QUALIFYING - AGAIN

‘UNTIL - THEN’

7TH - AMENDMENT

REVISED - SUITS - COMMON - LAW

VALUE - IN - CONTROVERSY - EXCEED

$20 - RIGHT - OF - TRIAL - BY - JURY

FOREVER - FREE

SHALL - B - PRESERVED

THEY - TELL - US - 4 OR - 5

ONLINE - WILL - B - 25 - IN - JURY

THEY - WILL - B - PAID - INTERNATIONAL

FUNDS - THIS - TIME - JURY - HOURS

NEW - LAWS

HOW - A - BILL - BECOMES - A - LAW

ONLINE - COURTHOUSES - USA

30 STATES - STAND - YOUR - GROUND - LAWS

20 STATES - OTHERS

JURY - 15 HRS - WEEKLY

WORK - 25 HRS - FULL - TIME - WEEKLY

18 AND OLDER

7 AND 8 MONTHS - NOT ALLOWED AS PREGNANT

30 STATES - STAND - YOUR - GROUND - LAWS

PER - HOUR - $20,000 - TAX - PAID

NO - OVERTIME

20 STATES - OTHERS

PER - HOUR - $15,000 - TAX - PAID

FINAL - 3 QUESTIONS - 4 - THEY - QUALIFIED

GPA - MUST - B - 4.000 - OR - HIGHER 4 JURY

THOSE - NOT - 24/7 - HOURS -

DEMOCRATIC - PARTY

DEMOCRATS

INCREASE - YOUR - FORMER - GPA

THE - RESULTS - YOUR - FINAL GPA

FOR - COLLEGE - WORK - OVERSEAS - REFERENCE

FREE - INCREASE - YOUR - GPA

TRAINING - U - WHAT - IT - TAKES

6 PACK - ABS - MUSCULAR - ABS

FREE - VIDEOS - 2 - ACCOMPLISH

TRAINING - WITH - MANDATORY

EDUCATION - GRAMMAR - MATH

INCREASE - YOUR - GPA

4.000 - 5.000 - 6.000 - 10.000 - 12.000

UNLIMITED - ACCOUNTS - 2 - INCREASE

HARVARD - IVY LEAGUE - WILL ACCEPT

YOUR - PERMANENT - GPA

USA - ONLINE - COURTHOUSES - 24/7

CHRISTMAS - DAY - FEDERAL HOLIDAYS

GPA - REQUIREMENTS

JUDGES - HONORABLES

JURY - DUTY

BOTH - 4.000 - REQUIRED

UNTIL - FULFILLED - AUTO - JUDGES

ALEXA - AMAZON - PRESIDING JUDGE

WHERE - WERE - YOU - THE - RECEIPTS

OF - SHOPPING - DINING - AMAZON PRIME

AS - KEYBOARDS - IN - FUTURE - WILL HAVE

THEY - WILL - KNOW - YOUR - FINGERPRINTS

AMAZON - PRIME

SHOPPING - DINNING - TRAVEL

ALEXA - WILL - TELL - STUPIDS - YOUR

EXACT - PRESENCE - AS - YOUR ALIBI

2 - DEFEND - CAN’T - B - IN - 2 PLACES

AT - SAME - TIME

FUTURE - PSYCHIATRISTS - REVOKED

OCCUPATION - MIDWIVES - NURSE OF

GYNECOLOGY - GYNECOLOGISTS

CHIROPRACTORS - ALL - REVOKED

PSYCHIATRIC - MEDS - REVOKED

OF - USA - ALL - PRODUCE DEATHS

WORDS - BY - US - POLICE

‘DO - U - WANT - 2 - HARM - YOURSELF

OR - OTHERS’ - THEIR - SPEECH - IS AN

ILLEGAL - STATEMENT - OVERSEAS

TORTURE

HANDCUFFS - INHUMAN - TREATMENT

HANDCUFFS - WILL - B - REMOVED BY

THE - DEMOCRATIC - PARTY

ILLEGAL - WORLDWIDE

MIAMI - MILITARY - FORCE

MACHINE - GUNS - SHOOT - THEIR THIGHS

THEIR - BUTTOCKS - AREA - ALL THAT FAT

APPENDIX - AREA - ALSO - QUITE - SAFE

LESS - THAN - TIC TAC - SIZE

SHOT - AT - FEELS - LIKE - A - NICE WARM

FIREPLACE - INSIDE

KNIFING - IS - GROSS - FEELS - COLD YES

COLD - GOING - INSIDE - YOUR - BODY HAI

AUTO - MACHINE - GUNS

DON’T - NEED - HANDCUFFS

GOING - 2 - NEAR - A - PERSON

2 - CONFIDENT - ABOUT - CRIMINALS

SO - THAT’s - THE - FUTURE

30 STATES - NO - HANDCUFFS

OBEYING - WORLD - LAWS

NO - MORE - PSYCHIATRISTS - THEY’RE - YES

STRANGE - DOCTORS - WHO - GOT - ILLEGAL

JOB - SECURITY - WITH - HONORABLES YES

QUESTIONABLE - COLLEGE - GRADUATES

WELL - 3:43P EST - HAVEN’T - EATEN - YET

EATING - NOW - BUT - USA

30 STATES - NO - HANDCUFFS - COMING

#youtube

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thoughts-and-more-sadness · 2 years

Text

Yesterday, Monday, Anthony had his doctors appointment. Last December I forced him to go to his appointment she prescribed for him to do 5 x rays and lab work. He never did. So I made him go back. They did a ekg because of his chest pains. The doctor told him he couldn’t go to work until Wednesday which is his heart specialist appointment. So they can figure out what’s wrong. He refuses to miss work so much to the point he should marry it. Today I had lab work appointment scheduled for me and him for 7am. He didn’t wake me up. He kissed me goodbye and went to work at 8. I started to cry. In an hour at 9am we’d have to leave to my ultrasound anyways. He told me to get up and go do my lab work. My second biggest panic attack trigger is getting blood drawn. I did not want to go alone. But I did and I was easily an hour later and then some. But by then the wait was long as hell. I sat and waited and hoped. But once it was time that me and Anthony should be leaving to the ultrasound and he hadn’t even texted me. My shaking and general anxiety and constant noise of the stressful surroundings of the crowded waiting room. I had to wipe away tears and cry. I told them to cancel and I left. I cried very publicly sobbing all the way down the stairs and outside to my car. Probably 3 people saw me. I sat in my car and cried so hard I have a headache. Why would he do this to me. I felt so alone and unloved. He said he was going home and to be ready. At the same we were supposed to already be there. I cried and I could barely drive. I screamed at the top of my lungs just to release all that energy I had built up. My throat was hurting from screaming. I got home. Called the imaging place and said when my appointment was and that I was late and if I could take a later slot or should I still run by could I make it? He said I would make it. He picked me up I had been done balling my eyes out now. I kept my mouth shut. He said he was the only one in the shop. In my head I thought yeah perfect time to not fucking be there. Why would you show up, when your “wife” and doctor tell you not to work and your own fucking coworkers don’t even show up. For Christ sake the boss is on vacation right now. I kept my mouth shut. After 40 minutes of driving we got there, checked in. Waited maybe 20 minutes or more. Until they called me to the desk and told me we are rescheduling. She said it was at different location. She said she’d give me the address. The card she gave me ended up having the same fucking address that we were at. He was so mad. The first thing he said to ,e at the desk was. “I don’t want to miss more work.” He was upset because he’d have to miss work for another appointment. He immediately in the car told me it was my fault and I should have gotten the name of the man who said I could still make it to the appointment. He was mad. I don’t blame home 40 minutes there and back and the waiting time. Waste of gas. I told him not to come next time. Which honestly won’t bother me now. Apparently I ask for too much so I’ll stop asking. I hate going to labs by myself but fuck it and fuck him he left us hanging. We will find out tomorrow I think what’s wrong with his heart. He isn’t surprised all the men I’m his family die young from heart attacks. He was all smiling when he told me about it for the first time that the doctor said there were problems. My aunt is coming from Hawaii and asked Anthony what time is good to give him a massage. He doesn’t want to take the day off to see her. I swear at this point he should quit both fucking jobs. Having one day off every two months is getting ridiculous. So I had two things to get done today. My labs and ultrasound. Which I’ve been expecting to do today for over a month. I didn’t get shit done. For fucks sake. I kept wanting comfort or hand holding the whole time. He just looked at his phone and wanted to shop for snake things.

0 notes

rhysiana · 2 years

Text

Here we go: NiF Jingsu dreamsharing AU, because it's been haunting me for months. (Gifset that sparked my initial thoughts for reference/visuals, if you want them: https://rhysiana.tumblr.com/post/655545822279352320/hardwareabstractionlayer-jingsu-wuxia-au)

~~~

When Jingyan returns from Donghai, he learns many things, not all of them as fast as he should have. Eventually, the thing he learns most is to keep his thoughts to himself and not appear to care about anyone too much. (He’s not particularly good at either.)

It’s lonely and isolating and he barely ever gets to see his mother after he’s essentially banished from the capital. Others find him icy and rigid, difficult to like, a stark contrast to his sunshine youth by Lin Shu’s side. (He isn’t allowed to mourn Lin Shu.)

He is fairly certain these things could break him—that they are in fact intended to—if he didn’t also have the dreams.

In his dreams, Lin Shu is not dead. He is hale and healthy and as teasing as ever, and they have leisurely adventures through the jianghu like they always said they would, whispering to each other late at night.

The first dream was not happy. The first dream happened when he was still on a ship, and was full of fire and blood and endless falling, until he woke up clutching Lin Shu’s pearl like a lifeline.

The other dreams didn’t start until weeks later, just before he got back to the capital. He would have thought the first one just an unconnected nightmare if not for the troubled way his mother ran a finger over the line of cliffs at the northern border on her map.

She didn’t tell him they were just dreams. She didn’t prescribe him tea or incense. She asked him for every detail he could remember, and then sat patting his hand absently for a while.

“You must tell no one else about these dreams,” she advised, and the frightened hush of her small, ill-favored palace only served to drive the point home. “What do you think they mean?” he pressed, quietly desperate. “His spirit is with you… wherever he is.”

In the months and years that followed, he takes a great deal of comfort from the ambiguity of that answer.

He is sent to the border, young and inexperienced, with men who were never part of Prince Qi’s household, who never trained with General Lin.

In his dreams, he and Lin Shu ride on dusty tracks along the plains. Lin Shu complains of the heat, and teases Jingyan for his thirst.

He studies maps and strategies seriously, terrified he will make a mistake, terrified the men in his charge will suffer if he attracts the emperor’s notice again.

Lin Shu laughs at him from across a small table at an inn, leans in to refill his wine cup. Their fingers brush.

He trains with his men assiduously, rising early but sleeping well. (He has never been so eager to sleep.)

They are at a beautiful brothel. Lin Shu is winning a poetry competition against a man all in white. He looks annoyed but eventually concedes, toasting them.

Days spent on campaign are long and slow, unless they become fraught and dangerous. There is more paperwork than Jingyan expected.

“Look!” Lin Shu points to the sky. “A messenger pigeon. I wonder what Lin Chen wants now?” They head out on another adventure.

His father calls him back to the capital. He has done too well to be ignored; he is awarded a concubine. Her ill health is likely an insult; he is privately relieved.

It is raining; they are stuck at an inn. Lin Shu catches his hand, brings it to his lips. They pass the time.

As quietly as he can, he asks questions of anyone who had a friend or relative in the Chiyan Army, trying to piece together a picture of the truth.

Lin Shu studies his face in the mirror.

“Why the sudden interest in disguise?” Jingyan asks.

“Because I can’t exist anymore.”

A rare holiday visit with his mother. Furtively, he asks about memorial tablets. She shakes her head sharply.

“But surely you don’t have to be dead here!” he argues.

“Especially here.” Lin Shu’s new face flickers in and out. “You must believe it in your heart.”

A new year, a new campaign to serve the emperor as far from the capital as he can be sent.

He sits with Mei Changsu in a teahouse.

“Rumors,” Mei Changsu murmurs. “Gossip. We need to get better at listening.”

“Isn’t it dishonorable?”

“Knowledge is power. We must learn to anticipate.”

He is sent to mediate a border dispute. He knows he is only sent because the court believes he will need to suppress a rebellion.

Lin Chen sends a pigeon with coded information about both leaders. Mei Changsu advises him on how to use it.

The dispute ends peacefully.

His reputation for being firm but fair grows. He harbors his words and people call him forthright. His men tell everyone he suffers no fools.

Mei Changsu never lies, but he is becoming a master of implication. Jingyan would disapprove if he weren’t so busy admiring his skill.

Jingyan’s men are incredibly loyal to him now. It’s probably good they are kept so far from the capital (and the emperor).

Mei Changsu is forming a jianghu alliance. He learns what is most important to each of his people and finds a way to get it. A flying boy attends him.

Rumors say the battle between the princes is heating up. They seek a strategist. Jingyan makes note of the rumors and does not give an opinion.

“Mei Changsu is invited to the capital. When you see me there, you must not know me.”

“Wait, what?”

Jingyan wakes up.

Frustratingly, he barely dreams on the way back to the capital. He barely sleeps. The summons to report to the emperor on the changing of the guard he was overseeing commands his presence in three days, so he will only be timely if all goes smoothly.

He’s never been able to decide if these commands are due to advisors in the court having no real idea of distances, or if one of his brothers is specifically trying to make him look bad for their own gain. They needn’t have bothered.

He wonders if it’s an omen that the first person he meets outside the gates is Mu Nihuang. “Are you off somewhere?” he asks, surprised—even he has heard of the tournament for her hand. (He imagines her feelings on that are as conflicted as his own.)

“No, I’m just here to see Dong-jie off. She’s been assigned a case.”

“Another conspiracy?” It slips out more caustically than he intended. He must be more tired than he thought.

Xia Dong frowns at him, sour, before appearing to pretend he’s not there.

The Mei Changsu that lives in the back of his head sighs and Jingyan grimaces back internally. Men who only live in dreams have more room to be forgiving, he thinks. In any case, there’s nothing to be done about it now. At least she’s on her way out of town.

He squares his shoulders and continues toward the gate. He has a report to make. On time.

They’re left standing outside for two hours, of course. Posture resolutely straight under the weight of his armor, his mind wanders, turning over Mei Changsu’s last dream statement obsessively.

Even an imaginary, disguised version of Lin Shu would know better than to come back to the capital, surely? What does it mean? It’s almost a relief when the emperor finally calls him in, despite having to deal with his brothers’ petty sniping over his appearance.

He delivers his report, remains calm, and doesn’t roll his eyes, so all in all he considers it a successful interaction. He wonders how soon he can get his men settled so he can seek his own bed.

Perplexingly, Mei Changsu appears that night not in one of their familiar jianghu settings, but in a house with walls that sparkle like snow and ominous shadows pulsing in from the corners. Mei Changsu ignores these things, simply inviting Jingyan into the courtyard to spar in the moonlight.

Jingyan is entirely unprepared when he runs into them in one of the palace walkways. He’d just finished delivering some reports and intended to check on Tingsheng quickly when he hears the yelling and the crack of Nihuang’s whip.

There is a man in scholar’s robes kneeling with Tingsheng when Jingyan arrives. It feels strangely disorienting to look at him; then he looks up and it’s all Jingyan can do not to stagger.

“Who is this?” he asks, knowing he must sound unnaturally stiff, especially to Nihuang, but she also seems distracted and off-kilter as she introduces “Su Zhe.”

The man bows politely, face giving nothing away as he promises to find a way to bring Tingsheng out of the palace.

Jingyan both does and doesn’t remember the rest of the conversation, small details shining with vivid clarity while the words swirl away from him. The slight quirk of his lips, the clench of his fingers in his sleeves, the line of his nose.

He both is the Mei Changsu of Jingyan’s dreams and isn’t. The scholar’s robes have appeared in the dreams, in teahouses and inns, but the frailness of the body they cover is shocking. His face is dearly familiar, but this is not a man with whom he could spar under the moon.

His thoughts circle unproductively for days, and his dreams remain mundane, forgettable, dissipating like smoke as soon as he wakes each morning. Gossip confirms he is Mei Changsu of the Jiangzuo Alliance, but also that he famously knows no martial arts. What is the truth?

When Nihuang and Mei Changsu conspire to get Tingsheng out of the palace for the fight with Baili Qi, he can stand it no longer and goes to… confront him? Demand the truth? Learn whether he is losing his mind? He’s not really sure, but he has to do something.

His breath catches when Xie Bi leads him to Snow Cottage, the glittering walls of the dream suddenly given context. The boys are practicing in the courtyard, and he tries to concentrate on their technique. He is genuinely concerned about both Nihuang and Tingsheng, after all.

Still, he is glad when Mei Changsu tells Fei Liu to take them off to play. (The flying boy is apparently also real.) Mei Changsu gestures him inside gracefully. Jingyan watches him with concern; Lin Shu was never so measured in his movements.

He forces himself not to take Mei Changsu’s hand or offer his arm in concern. They are strangers. Nothing about Mei Changsu’s carriage invites familiarity: he is controlled, self-contained, aloof. (Words Jingyan has heard applied to himself in the past decade.)

They settle at a table next to an unnecessary brazier. Mei Changsu pours tea and presents the cup to him; he reaches for it out of politeness and their fingers brush. He gasps and looks up before he can help it. Mei Changsu is staring back at him, frozen with the cup held between them.

“Are you…” Jingyan has to clear his throat to continue. “Are you real?”

“Yes,” Mei Changsu answers gravely.

Jingyan sets the cup aside and grips Mei Changsu’s hand as firmly as he dares. The fingers are longer, thinner, less callused than he expects, but he doesn’t want to let go.

“Do you also dream of the jianghu?” he ventures.

“I am from the jianghu,” Mei Changsu temporizes, agonizingly.

Jingyan throws caution to the wind and lets his desperation show. “Do you dream of me?”

Mei Changsu’s hand tightens on his. “It is all that has kept me sane.”

“Xiao-Shu,” Jingyan breathes, and is around the table in an instant, gathering Mei Changsu to him in a firm embrace. For a moment, he worries he is mistaken after all, but then Mei Changsu’s arms come up around him too and he feels a shuddering exhale against the side of his neck.

Eventually, they separate to sit properly at the table again, though Jingyan does not let go of Mei Changsu’s hand, still needing that grounding reality. “What happened to you?” Jingyan asks, and then flinches away from the memory of fire and falling. “I think I may know a little…”

Mei Changsu’s fingers tighten in his again, this time more purposefully. “There is much I need to tell you, but not enough time today.”

Jingyan draws a breath, steadies himself at the implication they will have time later. “Why did you come back here? You were safe.”

At this, Mei Changsu’s eyes flare, and Jingyan suddenly sees Lin Shu in a face that is otherwise completely changed. “For the future of Da Liang.”

Jingyan frowns. That can’t be right. “You’re going to advise one of the princes?”

Mei Changsu’s gaze pins him. “I’m going to advise you.”

Jingyan wants to laugh, but he��s sure it would come out hysterical. “Xiao—” He cuts himself off and starts over. “Sir Su, I’m not sure you understand how out of favor I am.”

Mei Changsu quirks half a smile at him. “I understand.” But then, more seriously, “Prince Jing, do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then please believe me when I tell you I have a plan.”

This too is like the Lin Shu of old. “Tell me what I must do,” Jingyan says, and it almost feels like resting.

~~~

(This line is where this naturally wanted to end, but please know I have a lot of thoughts about how MCS is still able to fight in dreams, a how much Jingyan conspires to care for him in the waking world once they have the tunnel established.

I just really wanted to think about what would happen if MCS started dreamsharing to cope with pain, and that accidentally eliminated his ability to hide his identity from Jingyan.)

Now also on AO3: Fragments of a Life Lived in Dreams

#please clap - I originally wrote that back and forth dream section within the space allowed by tweets #~*stunt writing*~#dreamsharing AU #jingsu #nirvana in fire #rhys's stuff

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Beautifully Spent

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

- Chapter 3 -

“No classes for the remainder of the day today,” the teacher said, and everyone, most of them already long ago having started to drift off in the hazy afternoon, sending longing looks towards the windows, turned to look at him, surprised. Even Lan Wangji couldn’t help himself – not that he’d been looking away, of course.

(He’d been not-looking at Wei Wuxian.)

Their teacher smiled indulgently. “A special treat for today, in anticipation of the special treat you will all be receiving tomorrow.”

“A treat?” Nie Huaisang asked, sitting up straighter. “What treat?”

“The sect leader’s brother has returned for a visit –”

“Teacher Lan?” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, looking irrepressibly excited, and abruptly the entire room burst out into a flurry of speech. It was only that they had all met him or heard of him, in his years of wandering through the cultivation world – the teacher of whom it was said that he could teach anyone, turn even the most dissolute waste into a proper and upright gentleman, deserving of respect. It seemed as if everyone had an anecdote to share: some visit they’d heard of, some trick or talent, an opportunity to hear him play…

Lan Wangji maintained his composure through an effort of will. No matter how much he might want to leap to his feet and rush out the door, going to find his uncle at once, there would be no point: his uncle was a stickler for decorum, and he would first pay his respects to his brother, Lan Wangji’s father, and then to the memorial hall. Only in the evening would Lan Wangji have a chance to see him and speak to him, and even then there would be a limited amount of time before they all had to go to bed…

Lan Wangji found himself rising to his feet despite himself.

“Hey, hey, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, bouncing over to him and grabbing at him, tugging on his sleeves as if to get his attention. His hands felt hot as a brand, and Lan Wangji could only be relieved at the protective layers of clothing that separated them. He felt his ears go a bit hot regardless, undoubtedly affected by Wei Wuxian’s unnecessary spreading of warmth. “Teacher Lan, he’s your uncle, right? You must have met him lots of times – you must have the best stories – tell us some!”

Lan Wangji leveled his best glare at him. It was a good glare, one that the junior disciples found quite frightening and made guest disciples avoid him.

Well. Most guest disciples.

“Noisy,” he said, disapproving, but Wei Wuxian was undeterred.

“Teacher Lan says that I learn best through action,” he boasted. “Quiet contemplation is wasted on those with too much energy; it’s necessary to excise the energy first, and to channel it, and so for people like me, it’s best to confront things directly, to see things with my own eyes and confront me with puzzles to challenge me!”

That seemed like a remedy his uncle would have prescribed. Lan Wangji could imagine the slightly-amused, mostly-long-suffering his uncle’s eyes would have had when he had recited it, undoubtedly in the same monotone he always used which for some reason seemed to irritate other adults so much.

“It was amazing!” Wei Wuxian continued. “I got to go on night-hunts two years early, thanks to him!”

“He also said that you needed to be smacked on a regular basis lest you get too full of yourself,” Jiang Cheng interjected, and that also sounded very much like something Lan Wangji’s uncle might have said. “Also, remember when you called him a boring old stick in the mud?”

“Argh, Jiang Cheng! Don’t mention that, you’ll embarrass me in front of Lan Zhan –”

Lan Wangji belatedly realized that Wei Wuxian was still holding his arm and felt his ears go from slightly hot to very hot, feeling somewhat attacked even though he knew it wasn’t something Wei Wuxian was intentionally or maliciously doing towards him. He shook Wei Wuxian off and slipped out the door.

He had to talk to his uncle right away.

His uncle, he thought, would know how to fix his current malady: the one where he thought about Wei Wuxian all the time, whether during the day or at night. The way his temperature rose, his heartbeat accelerated, how he couldn’t control his emotions or maintain his discipline the way he should…

His uncle would fix everything.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it. He’d gone wandering through the world long ago, well before Lan Wangji was born – before Lan Xichen was born, even before their father ever met their mother. He’d been barely older than Lan Wangji was now, in fact; it had been far earlier than it should have been, in the normal course of things. There had been some dispute, though whether it was with Lan Wangji’s father or grandfather remained unknown; indeed, Lan Wangji didn’t know anything about it at all, only that his uncle had left without looking back.

He’d first been a traveling musician, but eventually he had developed a reputation as a teacher. It was said that at some point when he was staying as a guest in some small sect or another, he’d run into some disastrous good-for-nothing of a person, useless and bitter with it, and somehow managed to figure out how to help them cultivate properly – or was the first one he’d helped a beastly hellion who wouldn’t learn anything, and he’d taught them both their letters and how to study, turning them into a scholar?

It didn’t really matter which had come first. In the end, he’d gotten a reputation for himself as a valuable teacher in the same vein as some legendary marvel of an itinerant doctor, the sort that could only be hoped for but not invited, and a bit of an adventurer besides – it was said that he’d saved Lao Nie’s life through some unspecified circumstance, averted Cangse Sanren’s doomed fate through happenstance, helped repair Jiang Fengmian’s broken marriage, and was even rumored to have had a brief personal liaison with the terrifying Sect Leader Wen…

Not that Lan Wangji listened to such things, of course. Talking behind other people’s backs is forbidden…although naturally, as the head of the discipline hall, he had more reason than most to need to know about all the wildest things people were saying.

At any rate, it was all beside the point. Lan Wangji’s uncle had gone out, made a reputation for himself, and then, just when he might have been tempted away for good somewhere else, had come home and won back his place in the Lan sect from his brother. Indeed, Lan Wangji’s father had reason to thank him more than most – it had been upon hearing what had happened with Lan Wangji’s mother, all those years ago when his parents had first gotten married, that Lan Wangji’s uncle had returned. Perhaps it was his years out on the road that had given him the strength and boldness to reject the solution the elders had devised, to castigate them all viciously and demand a better result – it wasn’t really clear.

What was clear, though, was that no one knew the Lan sect rules better than Uncle Qiren, and he’d developed a temper at some point during his travels outside; he’d attacked the whole arrangement from start to end, insisting that they come up with some other way to balance love and justice, protection of the person and protection of the sect’s face. Lan Wangji’s mother to this day swore that if she’d actually been locked up in a little house for the rest of her life, she’d have been long ago died of sheer boredom.

Of course, now that she was a little older, she tended to stay at her Gentian House most of the day regardless, disdaining the outdoors. But her home there was a place with windows open and people coming and going at all hours – it was a place of joy and happiness, laughter and light. Lan Wangji’s father tended to go there when he was starting to revert back to how he’d been before, those not-so-good days when Lan Wangji was young, and he always vastly improved after getting a tongue-lashing or two.

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure how many of the stories about his uncle were true and how many were rampant exaggeration – his uncle claimed the latter, but his mother insisted on the former, and his father, who rarely spoke without careful contemplation, eventually opined that it was somewhere in the middle.

In fairness, Lan Wangji didn’t much care, either. He had long ago taken his uncle as his role model, trying to fashion himself to be just like him whether in righteousness or rule-abidingness or even in musical talent. He was sure, deep in the depths of his soul, that his uncle could solve just about anything he put his mind to.

And yet he was sure, sure, that his uncle could never have encountered a problem like Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Wuxian?” his uncle said, blinking and rubbing his eyes – he’d stepped out of the memorial hall just now as a result of Lan Wangji’s urgency. “Oh, yes. I remember him. Bright boy. I thought you’d like him.”

Lan Wangji shook his head resolutely. How could he like someone like that?

Someone who made him feel…the way he did?

“Explain further.”

Lan Wangji did his best.

Irritatingly, about three-quarters of the way into his stumbling description, his uncle began to smile, his eyes curving just a little, and eventually to chuckle quietly.

Lan Wangji stopped, frowning – his uncle rarely smiled, and even more rarely laughed.

“No, no,” his uncle said. “Forgive me. It is a serious matter.”

Lan Wangji knew it!

“I will spend some time carefully observing Wei-gongzi,” his uncle continued, and Lan Wangji frowned again, suddenly anxious. “I promise, I will not let anything escape my gaze.”

Lan Wangji’s anxiety spiked even further: his uncle was quite strict regarding the rules in the Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian had already broken so many – he would undoubtedly be found out, and punished. It was no more than Wei Wuxian deserved, really, and yet – at the same time….

He cleared his throat. “Uncle, are you sure that’s necessary?”

“Oh yes,” his uncle said. “I must make sure he’s acceptable if he’s to be my in-law, isn’t he?”

Lan Wangji stared.

“You’re my beloved nephew,” his uncle said. “Naturally I must make sure that anyone you like is up to standard –”

“Uncle!” Lan Wangji cried out, feeling deeply betrayed. Possibly by himself.

His uncle shook his head. “Forgive me, Wangji. I will stop. But that is the explanation for your symptoms. I have observed similar things many times.”

Lan Wangji sat down, distressed. It hadn’t even occurred to him, although knowing his parents as he did meant that he was very familiar with the notion that love was not necessarily an enjoyable feeling, and perhaps especially not when you were first afflicted by it. “But…what do I do about it?”

His uncle touched his shoulder lightly, offering comfort. “Having emotions is a good thing, Wangji; it connects you to the rest of the world,” he said. “Understanding them, and knowing what action to take, is a matter of experience, for logic is of limited use in interpreting the heart.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “You will help, then?”

“…I will do my best,” his uncle said. “I may need to consult on the matter from those that understand certain aspects of these sorts of things a little better than I. But I promise, you will not have to face it alone.”

Lan Wangji nodded yet again, deeply relieved.

They would figure it out.

They would fix it.

His uncle would help.

#mdzs #lan qiren #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #my fic #my fics #beautifully spent

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thebibliosphere · 4 years

Text

In case you’re wondering what it’s like to be in the ER right now for non Coronavirus symptoms, allow me to say on behalf of all the medical professionals in the US and indeed the entire world right now: STAY THE FUCK INSIDE AND ADHERE TO SOCIAL DISTANCING GUIDELINES AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE TO HELP FLATTEN THE CURVE AND REDUCE THE SPREAD OF INFECTION.

I experienced my first ever “thunder clap” (x) headache this morning, the pain was so intense it took away my ability to think. I couldn’t move, speak or even scream. It subsided in under 5 minutes, but those were the longest 5 minutes of my life, and I’ve had root canals done without anesthesia. I’ve fractured my spine, gotten up and carried on walking.

We called the nurse helpline only for them to say they’d call us back. They never did. ETD ended up driving me to the ER, where we debated going inside. The administrator told us we would need to separate, he couldn’t come any further than the red line marked on the floor. I was escorted through empty corridors toward a space that used to be inhabited by seating cubicles used for IV lines (can you tell I’ve been here a lot?), that had been turned into prefabricated rooms. The nurse leading me through the corridors had a walkie-talkie strapped to his front. He kept up a running commentary of where we were at all times. I asked him if it was because I might be contagious, and he told me frankly, yes.

I was asked several times if I had flu like symptoms, did I have a cough, did I have a fever. I told them I did not. They didn’t seem to know what to do with me. I was seen first by a junior doctor, who for reasons of importance later on, I need you to know looked like young John Mulaney

“She doesn’t have flu symptoms, what should I do?” he whispered to the nurse from behind the plastic curtain separating me from the rest of the world.

“Well what symptoms does she have?”

Stroke. Possibly. Or a brain bleed. It was possible, with my history of neck injury. My blood pressure certainly implied something was wrong. A senior doctor was called in, who re-performed the neurological testing, which was all fine. They continued to panic over my blood pressure, however, right up until I said “if you let me lie down I’m sure it will normalize.”

“Why?”

“We think I have POTS, I’m seeing Dr X at this hospital.”

“Why isn’t that in your medical file?”

“She doesn’t want to label me with a disability because of how she thinks it will negatively impact my outlook on life.”

“...as opposed to actually having POTS?!”

“Yes.”

Which was the first time I’ve ever actually heard a doctor say “What the fuck?” loudly and emphatically. In my head I nicknamed him Sassy Senior Doctor. It was evident he was standing on his last nerve and had stopped giving a shit about everything that wasn’t keeping people alive.

“What else is missing from your file?”

“Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and Mast Cell Activation Syndrome.”

“Oh my god why are those missing?!”

“Ehlers Danlos is a new diagnosis from outside [Network] and my files are pending release. MCAS was because the allergist at this hospital told me it’s a made up disease.”

“No it isn’t!”

“Tell that to the allergist.”

I was allowed to lie down and my blood pressure normalized. They concluded I was not having a stroke.

It was during this conversation that junior doctor, Dr. Young Not John Mulaney, came back into the room, and the Nurse, not missing a beat said “looks like we’ve got a zebra*, not a horse in the hospital.”

They were all wearing masks, but Dr. Young Not John Mulaney’s facial expression was clear. Outside the plastic curtain, Sassy Senior Doctor made a sound something like what I imagine an owl being given the Heimlich maneuver would sound like.

“We’re trying to figure out what to do with you.” Dr. YNJM said. “You’re the only patient in here not for respiratory problems.”

I was once again asked if I had any flu like symptoms, or if anyone in my family had. “My husband’s had bronchitis for six weeks.”

“That’s too long to have bronchitis,” said the Sassy Senior Doctor. “What did they give him for it?”

“Prednisone.”

“Jesus H Christ. Is he staying home from work? What do you mean no? Is he an essential healthcare worker? No? Tell him to stay home. For his sake and yours. I don’t want to see you back in here with a collapsed lung...”

They consulted with a neurologist via tele-medicine, who said the excruciating burning sensation I described lancing through the side of my face, sounded like trigeminal neuralgia (x). “She needs to come see us. It might be TN, or it might be her neck pinched a nerve. EDS can be like that.”

“Can you take her right now?”

“Are you kidding?”

They could not take me right now. Apparently I will have to wait until we are not facing a global pandemic.

“Can you feel your hands?” Sassy Senior Doctor asked one more time. “Can you wiggle your toes? Can you grip my hands. Do you still not have any flu or flu like symptoms? No? Excellent, get the fuck out.”

The nurse assured me he meant it kindly, and I believed her.

They prescribed me muscle relaxants I can’t take because of my EDS, but said it might help, in a pinch—no pun intended.

“Stay home and stay safe” was the final parting advice I was given, and then they let the zebra out of the hospital.

---

*There is a common expression in the medical community: when you hear hoof beats, look for horses, not zebras, meaning that if a patient presents with X symptoms, they probably have the most likely diagnosis, which is Y.

Unfortunately for chronic and genetic problems like Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, this means our health issues are often brushed off as mental health, life style choices, or sometimes maliciously as attention seeking. This has lead to the community adopting the Zebra as their mascot, because sometimes when you hear hoof beats, it’s worth looking for stripes.

#chronic health tag #I am fine #I am at home resting right now #got an ice pack wedged under my skull #going to try and nap #long post #wall of text #medical talk #dental #dental mention #injury mention

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siriusblackmakesmesoft · 3 years

Note

oh my gosh i loved soft so much!!!

if i could perhaps request a remus lupin fluff, maybe with similar vibes to the sirius one you wrote ! young!remus x fem!reader

maybe after the full moon he convinces madam prince to let him leave the hospital wing early, and he goes up to y/n (ravenclaw)‘s room, ending similarly to your one before if that’s possible :) very soft !! thank you so much my love!

Remus Lupin X Ravenclaw!Reader

A/N: thank you for your request babe! You’re the first :) I’m really sorry this took so long, I’ve been in a slump :( Also thank you for requesting Remus because his birthday was this month and I cried all day :,) love him so much my sweet boy!! Also also thank you for requesting ravenclaw reader because that is all i know how to write :) kisses to you i adore you thank you :* Also also also I Might write one similar to this and Soft about James potter just to complete the trio :) Requests are open for The Marauders right now, though I’m willing to write someone else if you want just ask :)

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff dude call your dentist, a few physical descriptions? Glasses and longish hair and pajamas, reader being the absolute softest love of my life, sad Remus being anxious, reader is head girl bc that’s what I am when I shift so its all I know sorry, use of she/her pronouns, use of the nickname bunny bc I’m obsessed, this long speech about soulmates, food and eating mention, pretty freaking long sorry I got carried away I just love remus so much

Word count: 2801

enjoy :)

Remus was tired.

Madam Pomfrey had told him it would be a good idea to stay in the hospital wing at least one more night, to assure he get the rest he so desperately needed. Despite loving and caring about Madam Pomfrey, Remus was beginning to become claustrophobic in the tiny bed he was ridden to whilst staying there. He asked kindly, quietly, if she would be so kind as to give him the potions he should need and let him go to his own bed. She had made him promise to come to her immediately if anything were to happen, and with a less than convincing smile and a sarcastically cheery “Of course I’d come to you Pomfrey, you’re only the best,” she let him go.

The walk to his dorm was slow. He was having no physical pain, apart from the dulled ache in his bones, yet he felt like he weighed a thousand pounds, and his bag was a thousand more. He trudged through the hall, hoping no one was in the dorm right now. It was unlikely, at almost noon on a Saturday he doubted his friends would be inside their room still. Remus loved his friends, more than he loved most things, but the thought of seeing them now was nerve wracking. He wasn’t in the right mindset to listen to them talk about a new prank plan, or a new sneaking out plan, or how lovely Lily’s eyes are, or how good their last shag was. Remus loved his friends, but he needed quiet. He needed a good book, a chocolate bar and a cozy sweater.

The dorm was empty when he got there. He felt guilty for feeling relieved, for feeling part of the weight leave his shoulders because his friends were absent, but he also knew they would understand. They were good people, good friends who cared about him and his problems. Remus had been working on his guilt, telling himself that these people caring about him was a good thing that he shouldn’t feel bad about putting them through the things he does, that they do it because they love him and whatever issues he comes with. He hadn’t believed it yet, but he kept saying it.

He flopped face down onto his bed, dropping his bag to the floor and wincing when he remembered his book was in there. His bed felt nice compared to the cot in the hospital wing, a soft knit blanket James’ mom made him for christmas and cozy pillows she bought all the boys for their birthdays. Remus loved James’ mom, loved how she included him in their family events, loved how after Sirius moved in with the Potter’s she called Remus her son too. He had spent lots of holidays with them, sleeping in a guest room that just happened to have photos of all of Remus’ friends and posters of music he liked, a seemingly homemade bookshelf with James and Sirius’ initials carved in it. Sirius said when he first moved into the Potter’s his room was magically decorated too, and that Remus shouldn’t think too hard about how or why it happened. He knew it was his friends, brothers seemed like more of an appropriate title at this point, but he didn’t say anything for their sake. It was a sweet gesture, it made Remus cry a bit the first summer he spent there, so he let them have it.

Getting out of bed was a tough feat, but he needed a shower. He opened his trunk, grabbed his biggest sweater and favorite sweats, and headed for the shower. Remus loved showering. It was one of his favorite parts of the day. The warmth, the scent of his soap flooding the entire room, the steam dulling his senses down. It was calming, never failed to relieve his shoulders of some of what they were carrying. He relished the moments alone, relished in the sound of the water hitting the tile, the water hitting his skin, and even though he loved his friends, he relished the privacy. He didn’t get much of that anymore.

He towel dried his hair, making it messier than usual. He waited to put his sweater on, walking around in just his sweats, waiting for his skin to lose it’s pink hue from the heat of the water. He laid back onto his bed, facing the ceiling this time, and made an extensive to do list in his head. He missed 2 days of school because of the full moon, and getting caught up was something he wanted to do before laying in bed and reading all day like he planned. He also decided he should probably eat something of sustenance, other than chocolate bars and the terrible oatmeal Pomfrey served for breakfast. A trip to the kitchens was due, perhaps before studying so he could get some brain food. He also wanted to ask Professor McGonnagal about changing his prefect rounds. Telling third years to stop snogging in the halls after curfew gets tiring after a while. When he had his plan, he stood up off the bed. He put his sweater on and put his hands through his hair a few times to tame the mess. He picked his bag up, taking out some things and putting in some others. He decided he would do homework at his desk in the room, go and get some food and come right back. Nodding to himself and his plan, he put his shoes on and left the dorm.

He had a bit more of a light step after his shower, feeling as if he washed most of his stress off. The trip to the kitchens was routine at this point. Sneaking in was muscle memory, after doing it for so long. It was a little difficult without James’ cloak, but he survived just fine. He made himself toast, spreading jam across the bread, and looked through the cabinets for some hot chocolate. He sat on the counter to eat, criss cross, right next to the sink. He thought about the elves that worked in the kitchen, how much they did. The ones who cleaned Hogwarts too, they did a lot for him, probably more than he was even aware of. It was a different kind of affection, unknown, prescribed almost. It was nice to think about.

He stopped at the library on his way back to his room, wanting to get an extra book as a source for his herbology essay. He stopped to talk to Madam Pince, asked her about a book he had heard Sirius talk about, and went to find it and his herbology book. He found them quite quickly, Remus has come to know the library like the back of his hand. He put them both in his bag after checking out, and went to head back to his dorm, and then he heard James and some friends yelling across the hall. A guilt filled Remus again, he loved James, loved him like family, but he didn’t feel like he could handle the attention, the loud voices. As James got closer, Remus felt stuck again. The claustrophobic feeling that caused him to beg Pomfrey to let him leave the hospital wing a day early. He walked quietly, tiptoed across the hall, and when he was sure he had gone unseen he went the opposite direction of the Gryffindor dorms.

He ended up at the Ravenclaw tower door. His feet taking him here was inevitable really. He usually ended up here on a rough day. Today wasn’t too bad, he’d be the first to admit. It wasn’t great though.

“What has hands, but cannot hold anything?” Out of all the things Remus loved about the Ravenclaw tower, the Eagle spouting riddles at him when he just wants in is not one of them. He shifted his weight between his legs, picked at his nails for a minute, his bottom lip next. Terrible anxious habits that he cannot help, he looked at his watch for the time. Half past two.

“A clock.” The door opened slowly, revealing the Ravenclaw common room to him slowly. Bookshelves to the ceiling, constellations on the ceiling, soft piano music playing on a charmed record player, Remus loved it here. He usually would relish longer, stare at the stars, browse the books, try to figure out what song is playing, but he was still breathing shallow from his near death encounter with James across the hall. He wrung his hands, cracking his knuckles and twisting his fingertips as he walked up the staircase to the girls dorms. The charm for the Ravenclaw girls dorm stairs fell quickly from his lips, almost half way up by the time he completed it. He knew the way to the head girl's room by heart, down the hall straight until the last left door. He stood there for a moment, toe to wood, hand itching to knock.

Remus suddenly felt insecure. He knew she would be happy to see him, her smile would be just as soft as he needs and she would say the perfect words, just like she always did. When he finally knocked the door opened very quickly, opening to a shy smile, and the top of a head.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Her smile was small, and her voice was barely above a whisper. She had a warmth about her, the way she looked at him, it warmed up his whole body. She opened the door wide enough for him to step in and shut it right behind him. She was wearing an old t-shirt, some band that her cousin liked and grew out of, blue pajama shorts, and socks with little rabbits all over them that Sirius bought her for christmas last year when she visited the Potter’s. Her hair was down, messy as if she were laying on it, and her glasses were crooked. She looked pretty, in a realistic way. The kind of pretty that makes Remus want to make her a cup of hot chocolate, lay in her bed, and stare at her for hours.

“Pomfrey wrote me a note that you left early, ‘was waiting for you t’come see me.” Remus stared at her, her soft smile making his resolve break easily. This always happened, he went to her broken and she was perfect and helped him fix himself. She always knew just what to say, as if she could read his mind. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could.

“Jus’ felt bad today, ‘s all bun.” His voice was quieter than he intended. He wanted to tell her everything, the claustrophobia he had been feeling all day, the dread that swallowed him when he saw James. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for this becoming a routine, showing up to her dorm needing her glue to put him back together. Remus swallowed, bouncing on the heels of his feet, and blew air out of his cheeks. “I ate though, made some toast, and I took my potion from Pomfrey before I showered, so I don’t hurt.” He smiled softly as he said it. Full moons were hard, and Remus often neglected to take care of himself after them. Telling her he had made a point to care for himself meant everything.

“‘S a good start isn’t it? Maybe we could read a bit? Got that book you wanted me to read, thought maybe you’d want to read it with me?” There were few good things in Remus’ life. He had been dealt a poor hand from an early age. But this, his girl, smiling at him so tenderly, made it all better. This made it all worth every ounce of pain he had ever felt.

“Can we cuddle, bunny? ‘M quite tired.” Remus pouted, looking at her with the absolute worst case of puppy dog eyes she had ever seen. She had to bite her lip to stifle her giggle, she got to love the most cutest boy in the whole world. (Y/N) grabbed Remus’ hands and pulled him to her bed. She made him sit down while she went to grab the book, and when she returned she noticed he had taken his sweater off. Remus always liked skin on skin contact, once Sirius had told him no matter how much his love language is quality time, it would always be squashed by his need for physical touch. For a while Sirius’ comment made Remus insecure, like he was clingy and annoying, overbearing. But after a long conversation (and a few tears as well) he learned that she loved him, loved holding and touching him, that it made her feel the same way it made him feel. Safe, connected, warm, and loved.

“Y’wanna lay on me, sweet boy?” Remus broke out of his daydream, nodding his head enthusiastically. She didn’t bother hiding her giggle this time, jumping onto the bed and patting her belly. Remus wrapped his arms around her waist, shoving his nose as deep into her shirt as physically possible. Her hands wound around his shoulders, rubbing his shoulder blades and mid back. The absolute bliss Remus felt was indescribable, if this was a dream he never wanted to wake up.

Remus sat up slightly, resting his chin on (Y/N)’s stomach, looking at her with complete adoration. He stared for a while, tracing her features with his eyes. Her hands were running through his hair now, scratching the back of his neck and softly pulling the strands on the top. She ran her fingers across his cheeks lightly, mumbling, “‘S goin’ on in that big brain of yours, sweetness?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

He could see her brain working out an answer. Her eyes squinted very slightly, her mouth parted and she ran her fingers down his jaw as she spoke.

“I don’t know. I think it’s silly to think just one person is made perfect for you. I think Sirius was made perfect for you and James, but I don’t think you lads’ll get married. If there were to be soulmates there would be a thousand different kinds. You could be soulmates with the person you marry, and your best friend. And the bloke you sit across from on the train, and the waitress at your favorite restaurant. There is too much love in the world to just limit yourself to one person,” She paused, looking at Remus, dragging her finger down the bridge of his nose and booping the tip, “But if I had to choose one person to give all my love to, one person to be my every kind of soulmate, well I just think I’d pick you, Mr. Remus John.” She ended with a pretty smile, leaning down to kiss his forehead as she started to run her hands through his hair once more.

Remus was speechless. His eyes were teary, his mouth was opening and closing as his brain screamed at him to just say anything at all, but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare. He grabbed her wrists, holding them against his face, kissing them while he thought of exactly what to say. It was a long while until he said something, just looking into her eyes with such awe.

“I’d pick you, too, to give all my love to. Already have, honestly.” His face split into a wide, boyish grin. Bad day forgotten, he felt nothing but love and warmth in this moment. No guilt, no insecurity, no weight. If you asked him, he’d probably say he could fly with how light he felt now.

“Well I’d sure hope so, otherwise it would be quite awkward to have you shirtless in my bed.” Her teasing made him giggle in disbelief, how one person could be so perfect he would never understand. How that same person could love him, choose to care for him and show him love, was an anomaly to him.

“Now kiss me so I can read to you. I need you well rested as my soulmate.” Remus had never moved so fast. Jumping level to her face, kissing all over her cheeks and lips, making exaggerated kissing noises as she squirmed under him. Her giggles and squeals loudly filled the room, floating around Remus as his hands gripped her waist. He kissed each cheek one more time, leaning his head up to look in her eyes, which were closed from when she was laughing. This was another moment, where Remus forgot all things that weren’t in this space with him. The only thing in the world was her smiling under him, and him feeling utterly delighted to exist, and a few more kisses, too.

#remus lupin fluff #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter

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sorryimanon · 4 years

Text

Character: Katsuki Bakugou

Warnings/tags: heart warming fluff, language, and suggestive themes

Word count: 2.5k

In which your boyfriend takes it upon himself to pamper you on his day off.

Author’s note: some self indulgent fluff. this is a continuation of dad!bakugou and torch daughter. there will be more. enjoy :)

D/N= daughters name

Katsuki heavily relied on you to babysit your rambunctious four year old daughter during the days when he'd be on patrol from dusk till dawn. Very rarely would he be home before the two of you tucked yourselves in for the night, leaving him to eat the leftovers from dinner alone at the table. As sad as it is, it didn't bother you in the slightest. In fact, knowing Katsuki was keeping the crime rate of Japan low, you were more than happy to become a stay at home mom. Most of your friends tried to talk you out of it, but you were already settled after giving your two weeks notice at your low paying job. Waking up and seeing your daughter first thing in the morning is better than staring blankly at a bright screen all day behind a musty wall, running on nothing but decaf coffee, and sluggishly going to and fro like a zombie.

Ever since your daughter manifested her quirk, you’ve been trying your best to maintain her sudden outbursts while at home. The doctor prescribed it as Torch: the ability to become a human torch and ignite flames throughout your body and fingertips. For now d/n is only capable of setting herself on fire, using the flames as a barrier to protect her from any harm instead of combating. However, sometimes she'll forget to extinguish herself, having you to manually use an actual fire extinguisher on her. Burn marks would litter the outskirts of your shirts, the aftermath ash smudged on your face, and the tiny hairs on your forearms long gone after handling d/n.

Your boyfriend appreciates the way how you compose yourself around d/n, not allowing the temptation to fling the little gremlin out the window prevail, because if the roles were reversed it'd be a whole different story. Sometimes he sits back in his desk chair, after a long night of meandering around the city, and tries to remember the last time you were properly treated. Of course, Katsuki never fails to remind you day and night he loves you through his actions, some including selfish indulgence late at nights, but all in all he didn't lack being the hopeless romantic counterpart for you. He wanted you to take a break from it all, have him handle the at home duties and the slimy daughter. Leaning back against the chair with his brows furrowed slightly, he began to mentally plan out your day already.

It was a Friday when Katsuki forced himself out of the comfortable security that is your arms and walked with light feet to his daughters bedroom. Today is his day off, so he has to make sure everything goes smoothly or else he's going to have more burn marks on his office desk.

He didn't bother knocking first and saunters in the familiar space, the faint snores from d/n somehow relaxing him. Her walls were freshly painted a light shade of blue, the contrast not too saturated to peel the attention away from her posters that covered every inch of her room, all of which were pictures of his prohero colleagues. D/N had to beg for her father to purchase a Deku poster, one of which she saw don display when the both of you brought her to the mall for a quick trip. He internally cringes every time he makes eye contact with the lifeless eyes of Deku when he enters her room.

Katsuki neared his daughter and kneeled down to where his head was leveled with hers, chuckling lightly when finding a small pool of drool collecting on her cheek.

"Wake up little shit," he whispers, nudging her uncovered shoulder with his knuckles, startling her eyes to flutter open. D/n nearly gasped at the sight of her father. The covers that were wrapped snuggly around her fell at the foot of her bed when she jolted up in surprise, eyes brimming with excitement.

"It's today right? Mommy's day!" Katsuki covered her mouth with his abnormally large hand, not wanting her obnoxious voice to blow their cover.

"Yes, but you're gonna have to be quiet for daddy. Don't want to spoil the surprise for mommy, you understand ya little brat?"

Hand still attached to her mouth, d/n nodded her head feverishly, hands clenched into tiny fits. Once he thinks she's shimmered down a little, he finally removes his hand and motions her to follow him.

Meanwhile in the other room, you were still fast asleep, limbs not once switching from their position over the cozy blanket. The chill breeze from the propped window regulated your body temperature nicely, along with the beautiful songs sung by the birds that reside in the trees close by. You stirred awake momentarily, feeling the loss of a presence that's usually laying beside you during these times of slumber. Katsuki's side was empty, the indent from his body molded onto the foam mattress, leaving you to believe he woke up not that long ago.

After convincing yourself to leave the comfort of your bed, you decided to search for the missing blonde. You crack open the door to a weird combination of radio music blaring throughout the house, and the delicious smell of something cooking in grease. It's no doubt your boyfriends doing. He always likes to impress you with how skillful he is in the kitchen. He hasn't made a dish you disliked yet nor will he allow himself to do so.

Standing side by side, minus the height difference, d/n and Katsuki both were too immersed in their cooking to notice you leaning against the island counter, trying very hard to not cry instantly at the sight in front of you. Watching them interact together was definitely something you'd be treasuring for the years to come.

A rush of savory and sweetness infiltrated your senses, the scent strong enough to knock you back to sleep. As if he read your mind overnight, Katsuki took it upon himself to prepare your favorite breakfast dishes. The dinner table made for three already set by none other than d/n, who currently looked proud at her work and craftsmanship. A large vase was propped in the center, a collection of vibrant flowers stuffed to the brim, the water inside almost overflowing. Attached to one of the stems of the flowers was a tag, the handwriting sloppy and hard to decipher.

To my dumbass, love ya - K.B

You felt the delicate touch of your daughter wrapping her hand around yours, giving it a slight tug before pulling you into the kitchen again. Katsuki flicked his gaze to you now, flashing the same mischievous grin you grew to love. his hands simultaneously worked on the food while taming the animal, that is indeed your daughter, from bumping into the pan handles.

"What's all this for?" You asked, the question directly appointed to both your boyfriend and daughter.

"Oh, so I can't treat my sexy girlfriend to a good meal?" he teased while setting the burners to low, letting the food cool off before plating it. Your daughter audibly gagged at the comment and swatted Katsuki's arm.

D/N's tiny legs were faster than yours and reached the cabinet where the plates and cutlery were stored at. To her dismay, the cabinet was higher than she anticipated. trying her best to waiver down the disappointment as she climbed on the sleek marble counter top, losing her footing here and there. Katsuki caught her in time before she misplaced her footing and almost toppled onto the floor.

"May I need to remind you not to climb on the damn counter tops anymore d/n?" he scolded as he put her down before grabbing enough plates for everyone.

Pursing her lips tightly, she crossed her arms and said, "But if I'm going to be a future hero then I have to battle my way through tough obstacles!"

U.A's immense training and work studies came in handy when dealing with d/n's hard headed ideologies. It's been a stressful reoccurrence, having to constantly teach her the importance of being a hero at such a young age. Her impulsive tendencies mirrored the blondes old habit of taking action before thinking. But there was always a saying when storing away your fear and facing danger head on.

"That's true, but sometimes a little teamwork wouldn't hurt. Your father should know a thing or two about that when he was a young U.A student," you said as you patted her head.

"What'd you say shitty woman? Talking crap so early in the morning already?" a strange popping sound alerted you to turn around, only to find Katsuki flaring his flashy quirk with a glare that could splice you open.

But his alarming gaze wasn't the thing that was scaring you at the moment.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT USING YOUR QUIRK IN THE HOUSE! YOU'RE GONNA SET OFF THE FIRE ALARM AGAIN, IDIOT!"

You thought the smorgasbord of a breakfast was the last of your boyfriends romantic gestures, but you should've known better once he demanded you to change out of your sleep attire and into something to wear outside. Not thinking twice about where he was dragging you to, including daughter, you decided to play it safe. He approved on your choice of ripped jeans, synthetic tank top, and thrown on cardigan once heading off to the car.

The car ride to the mysterious destination was short lived as your boyfriend pulled up into the driveway of his old house. Mitsuki stood waiting by the threshold of the doorway, waving her fingers sweetly to whom you can only assume was you and not her only son. She stepped off the porch once Katsuki shifted the car in park, unlocking the doors as well. His mother reached the side where d/n stayed strapped in her seat and yanked the door open.

"Ah my little princess! How have you been? I missed you so much!" She unbuckled d/n's seat belt and flattened her in a tight hug, squeezing till her eyes popped out. "I can't wait to spend the weekend with you baby girl! Are you excited to have a little fun with grandma?!"

"Calm the fuck down, you're gonna kill her if you keep squeezing!" Katsuki's voice boomed out of the window.

"Oh pipe down you little shit I'm not harming her! Also don't talk to me like that! You're old enough to treat me with some respect by now!"

"SHUT UP YOU OLD HAG! JUST TAKE THE LITTLE GREMLIN AND GO!"

After the heated exchange, Katsuki eventually calmed down and drove the two of you back to the house in complete silence. It was quite a shift in a sense of environment wise. By now d/n would be begging you to make her some pudding or pour her a cup of lemonade, then place yourselves in front of the tv watching a random kids program till evening. Tonight you lend the torch to your boyfriend, allowing whatever devious plan he conjured up to unfold.

Before you could shuffle into your shared bedroom, Katsuki placed his calloused hands onto your cramped shoulders. Merely centimeters from your ear, he laid a chaste kiss on the area beneath it, smiling at your innocent reaction to his sudden actions and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You smelt the familiar scent of caramel and men’s soap, both of which you undoubtably loved when combined.

“Suki?” Upon hearing his nickname, Katsuki quirked an eyebrow at you. “What’s with all the romantic gestures lately? Cooking my favorite breakfast, the flowers, and our daughter. Don’t get me wrong, I love her! It’s just nice not to worry about if she’ll set the curtains on fire again.”

You felt the vibrations of him chuckling behind you.

“Isn’t it obvious? I just want to fuck the shit out of you,” you sat paralyzed by his bluntness. his tuft hair tickled the underside of your chin, earning him an acute giggle from you. “I’m just kidding, pretty face. I figured you needed a weekend where you just relax and did nothing. Let me do all the work. That’s including getting rid of the brat.”

Shifting in his arms to where you can face him, you can now see the adoration oozing from usual heated glare of his vermillion eyes, the scowl long gone and replaced with a soften feature not so many from the outside can witness. To think this was the man you devoted yourself and love for, to allow him to bare witness anything and everything you endure. He’s a man of showing his compassion through his actions, not lousy words of affirmations that anyone could sputter out and proclaim its love. No, he reflects back everything right with the world, even when you felt the weight of it searing through your system, dragging it down with you. The same explosive blonde awaits patiently by the opening for you to enter, no matter how long it’ll take for you to accept his love. Because he’ll be there. Waiting.

And here he is waiting. In your arms to repeat those three words you made out from watching the movement of his lips.

The words leave your mouth effortlessly, the proclamation hanging in the air between you two.

“I love you too, Katsuki. Thank you so much, for everything.” Like so, you kiss the plump flesh of his lips, the same inflammation of your heart burning as before. The strong muscle of his tongue prods your entrance, practically begging by licking your bottom lip. Katsuki grabbed your chin as gentle as he could muster, titling it for a better leverage to explore your mouth in return. Your hands trailed across the defining shape of his collarbones, rubbing any part of his body so that your fingers remained busy. Both of you hum in satisfaction, relishing in the feeling of the intimate moment. To your disliking, he removes his lips from yours and hovers instead, panting from the mini-make out session seconds ago.

“I’m going to marry you some day, mark my words. So don’t act fucking stupid when I pop the question,” he hotly proclaims, not once removing those piercing red eyes from yours. That’s when you knew he wasn’t bullshitting. If there’s one thing you learned about Katsuki over the years of dating, is that he doesn’t throw out promises in the air nonchalantly without keeping them. You can vaguely hear the ominous sound of wedding bells in your ears.

“Sounds intriguing. I always wanted to see you in a suit and tie.”

“Ya know, maybe someday might be tomorrow-.”

You cut him off with a scorching peck, making his eyes widen and dilate with every given second you laid your lips onto his. “Shut up babe and ravish me already.”

A mischievous grin forms on his mouth as he links his arms around the back of your knees and hoists you over his shoulder. He erupted into fits of laughter after hearing you squeak from the abruptness. The door to your shared bedroom came into view, your boyfriend kicking it with his free foot before entering through the threshold.

“You’re in for a long night sweetheart. Now that our daughter isn’t here, I’m not holding back on anything,” he threatens as he lays you down on the comforter.

Another thing you learned from your relationship. Katsuki is always true to his word.

#mha imagines #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #mha x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #dad!baku #bakugou smut #kacchan #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsukibakugou #bnha katsuki x reader

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