#(( i am ignoring the medicine they can give you to make you blissed out for the sake of this question. that is a different question ))

[unrely]

vin has a very extensive hospital file, the important part for the sake of this post is this: there is a note that if unconscious by any means, he must be restrained so he won't cause harm to himself. this is there because there have been multiple occasions where he has startled awake in a hospital and ripped his stitches or otherwise Made Things Worse by darting awake and trying to move (Vin does not like hospitals). this is not an all of the time situation but it is an enough of the time situation that there is a Note on his File. the likelihood of this happening is boosted if his cognitive ability is somehow damaged (heavily medicated, woozy, blood loss, etc) and more so if he wasn't aware or conscious when being brought to the hospital (i.e. if he gets himself there or can process that he's going to the hospital, he will be much calmer when waking up).

the question is this: vin ends up at a hospital without being aware he was being brought to a hospital. perhaps he passed out before anyone even found him. maybe he was suffering from blood loss or drugged when he was taken there and so isn't aware of it. your muse happens to be at his bedside when he wakes up and immediately panics and tries to pull at the restraints, potentially injuring himself. how does your muse calm him down. (do they calm him down? or do they call a nurse??) there is a correct answer

[pucksandpower]

Puppy Love

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of the tiny sausage dog who seems to take up every second of your boyfriend’s attention … but it sure feels nice when Leo decides he’s a mama’s boy and Charles gets a taste of his own medicine

You stroll into the spacious living room, eyes narrowing as you spot Charles sitting on the couch, a tiny dachshund puppy curled up contentedly on his lap. “Charles … what is that?”

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Surprise! Meet Leo, our new puppy.”

You shake your head slowly. “Our puppy? I don’t recall agreeing to get a dog.”

Charles scratches Leo’s velvety ears, eliciting a blissful tail thump. “I know, I know. But look how cute he is! I couldn’t resist.”

Crossing your arms, you try your best to seem stern despite the puppy’s heart-melting adorableness. “We haven’t even discussed this. A dog is a huge responsibility.”

“I’ve thought it through,” Charles insists. “Leo is the perfect breed for our lifestyle — small, low maintenance, and they make amazing companions.” He holds the drowsy pup up with a beseeching expression. “How can you say no to this face?”

You bite your lip, wavering. The puppy really is criminally cute with his soulful eyes and ridiculously long body. “Well … I suppose we could give it a trial run,” you concede. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Charles beams. “Deal! You’ll fall in love, I promise.” He sets Leo back on his lap, rubbing the puppy’s belly. “Who’s the best boy? You are!”

Watching them bond, a prickle of jealousy stirs in your chest. Is this what you signed up for — playing second fiddle to a canine?

Over the following days, Charles is utterly smitten, devoting every spare moment to Leo. He takes the pup everywhere, cooing over him incessantly and showering him with treats and toys. Meanwhile, you often find yourself … ignored.

“Charles? Are you listening?” You frown as he doesn’t respond, too busy dangling a chew rope just out of Leo’s reach in a teasing game.

You huff out a sigh. “I guess I’ll just make dinner for one then.”

Finally, he glances up with a distracted, “Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”

Throwing up your hands, you stalk into the kitchen, simmering with a childish sense of being replaced in your boyfriend’s affections. Stupid dog ...

A few nights later, you’re getting ready for bed when Charles appears in the doorway, Leo tucked under one arm like a furry purse. “Hey, I need to run out for a bit. Can you keep an eye on Leo?”

“What? Why?” You pause in the middle of removing your makeup.

Charles grimaces. “ I … may have waited until the last minute to get his puppy pads and food refilled.”

You groan. “Fine, I’ll watch him. But just this once!”

“You’re the best, thank you!” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before setting Leo down with a stern, “Be good for your maman, okay?”

He dashes out, leaving you staring at the puppy sitting innocently in the middle of the bedroom floor. Leo blinks up at you, tiny tail wagging.

For a long stretch, you simply regard each other in silence. Then, hesitantly, you sink down to sit cross-legged. “Well? What am I supposed to do with you?”

Leo waddles over, sniffing at your knee before clambering into your lap with surprising determination for such a little guy. You tense, unsure what to do as he turns in a few circles and settles with a contented sigh, warm weight pressing against you.

Huh … he’s actually kind of cuddly.

Tentatively patting his silky fur, you admit, “I can see why Charles likes you so much.”

Leo’s only response is a sleepy snuffle, lashes fluttering shut. Despite yourself, you can’t resist smiling at how peaceful he looks, tiny paws twitching as he dreams. Maybe this dog thing won’t be so bad.

That notion lasts until Leo startles awake with a high-pitched yelp, legs scrambling as he leaps off your lap and takes off running. “Leo? Leo!” You give chase, wincing as his claws skitter across the hardwood in his panic.

Finally, you catch up to him quivering under the living room sofa. “Oh no, it’s okay!” You stretch out on the floor, clicking your tongue soothingly. “Come here, little guy. I’ve got you.”

Leo whimpers, but after a few tense minutes of coaxing, he creeps out just enough for you to scoop him up. You settle back against the couch with him bundled in your arms, murmuring reassurances as he trembles.

“Shhh, you’re safe … good boy ...” You press a tender kiss between his floppy ears, stroking him until his quaking fades to contented wriggles. As your apprehension melts away, a fierce protectiveness blossoms in your chest. This precious little soul is yours to care for now.

When Charles returns, he pauses in the hallway, tilting his head quizzically at the sight of you reclined on the sofa with Leo completely passed out on your stomach. “Having fun over there?”

You glance down at the slumbering puppy with a soft smile. “Actually … yeah. I think Leo and I are going to be just fine.”

A delighted grin spreads across Charles’s face. “I knew you two would hit it off!”

Over the ensuing weeks, you find yourself increasingly enamored with your four-legged child. Leo shadows your every step, bouncing around underfoot until you inevitably scoop him up to snuggle close. You start pushing all the throw pillows together to create a special nest for him on the couch. Charles teases that you’re getting a little carried away with spoiling the pup rotten.

“Oh, hush,” you retort without any real bite, nuzzling Leo’s plush cheek. “My baby deserves nothing but the best, isn’t that right?”

“Baby?” Charles arches an amused brow. “I think someone’s going overboard.”

You stick out your tongue, cuddling Leo closer with a playful glare. “Don’t listen to your papa. He’s just jealous of our bond.”

“Hey, I’m not the one treating him like a literal infant!” Charles laughs, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s ears. But the puppy twists away with a protesting whine, burying his face against your neck.

Charles pauses, brow furrowing in a brief flicker of hurt. You think nothing of it until the same thing happens again at dinner … and on your evening walk around the block … and at bedtime when Leo kicks up a fuss about sleeping in his own bed instead of yours.

“Leo, come on!” Charles groans in frustration when the puppy darts under the dresser instead of coming to him. “What’s with you lately?”

He shoots you an aggrieved look, ruffling a hand through his tousled waves. “Ever since you started carrying him everywhere, he won’t leave your side. You’ve turned my own dog against me!”

You shrug innocently, scratching behind Leo’s silky ear when he peeks out to flash you an adoring gaze. “I can’t help it if he knows who his favorite parent is.”

“Favorite parent?” Charles splutters. “That’s my dog you’re talking about!”

You gasp in mock offense, gathering Leo up to press a loud smacker against his fuzzy head. “Don’t listen to him, baby! Papa’s just grumpy because I’m better at cuddles.”

Charles narrows his eyes at the giggling puppy now practically swimming in your embrace. “Is that so? We’ll see about that.”

He swoops in to snatch Leo away, cradling the squirming pup against his chest. “Who’s the favorite, huh? I’m the one who picked you out, you little traitor.”

But Leo simply strains back towards you, pawing at Charles’ arm with distressed whimpers until you take him back. He immediately settles with a contented sigh, licking your chin gloatingly as Charles gapes.

“Oh, that is war ...” Your boyfriend mutters, stalking away with hunched shoulders.

You blink after him in confusion before shrugging it off in favor of cooing over the dachshund. “Did mean old Papa try to take you from Mama? Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t let him.”

From that point on, a constant battle for Leo’s affections rages between you and Charles. He’ll try enticing the puppy with treats or toys, only for Leo to bypass them entirely in favor of your open arms. You can’t help but preen victoriously every time Leo cuddles into your embrace with a sigh of pure bliss.

“You’ve turned him against me!” Charles bemoans one evening as Leo dozes contentedly on your lap, stubbornly ignoring the tennis ball being waved enticingly in front of his nose. “What’s a guy got to do to get some puppy love around here?”

You smirk, idly stroking Leo’s velvety ears. “Guess he just prefers spending time with his one true love.”

“Yeah, yeah ...” Charles grumbles, but you catch the fond curl of his lips as he watches you fawning over the pup. He flops down beside you with a theatrical groan. “Unbelievable. Replaced in my own home by a hairy sausage.”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t call my baby such things!” Scooping up Leo, you pepper his fuzzy face with smooches until he squirms happily. “Did you hear what Papa said about you? He’s just jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Charles protests, even as his gaze tracks the gentle way you cradle the puppy. There’s a wistful edge to his voice when he murmurs, “Remember when you used to look at me like that?”

You pause, registering the plaintive note. Slowly, you shift Leo into the crook of one arm so you can reach out and cup Charles’ cheek with your free hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Aww, my poor baby,” you tease gently. “Don’t worry — there’s enough love to go around for both of you.”

Charles leans into your touch with a huff, darting eyes betraying how much he misses your undivided attention. “I’m starting to doubt that.”

“Well then, let me remind you ...” You lean in until your lips are a hair’s breadth from his, holding his gaze as you murmur, “I happen to have the world’s biggest, most annoyingly persistent crush on this one race car driver.”

A shiver ripples through Charles, his breath catching. Before he can respond, you close the scant distance in a searing kiss, lips molding hot and desperate as you pour every ounce of adoration into the embrace. Leo gives a disgruntled squeak at being squished between your bodies, quickly wriggling free to skitter off with an offended sniff.

You hardly notice, too busy mapping the contours of Charles’ mouth with hungry sweeps of your tongue, muffling his delicious groans by deepening the kiss. By the time you finally break apart, you’re both left panting harshly, gazes locked in a blissful haze.

“Still think I only have eyes for the dog?” You rasp, relishing the way Charles’ pupils are blown wide.

He swallows thickly. “You make a … convincing argument.”

“Mmm, I try.” You lean in to nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip with a sly grin. “But I’m more than happy to keep making my case ...”

Charles growls low in his throat, hauling you forward until you’re properly straddling his lap, bodies flush. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Breathless laughter spills from your lips as he surges up to capture them once more, hands roaming eagerly over your curves. In that heated moment, the puppy is forgotten as you pour all your focus into worshiping each other, affections firmly realigned.

Well … until a tiny bark sounds from nearby, followed by indignant grumbling and the patter of tiny paws. You reluctantly break the steamy kiss, rolling your eyes fondly as Leo hops up onto the couch to shove his way between the two of you.

“Easy there, troublemaker,” you chuckle, stroking the puppy’s silken fur as he clambers between you and Charles, yipping happily now that he has both his humans’ full attention. “See, baby? I told you there was enough love for all of us.”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “It’s a good thing he’s cute.”

You grin, leaning in to rest your forehead against his as Leo snuggles down with a contented sigh. In this perfect cocoon of warmth and adoration, you can’t imagine anything better.

And if the three of you stay snuggled up on that couch long into the evening, trading lingering kisses and delighted giggles as Leo’s little tail thumps happily … well, no one has to know.

[literatureloverx]

mother bsd crumbs pliiis 😭

Okay, my dear.♥️

One song for each character, though Fyodor receives the husband bonus, haha.♥️

BSD men as The Neighbourhood songs

Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Neighbourhood — A Little Death

“She sought death on a queen-sized bed… and he had said, ‘Darling, your looks can kill, so now you’re dead.’”

“Make me feel like I am breathing, feel like I am human—again.”

The Neighbourhood — Daddy Issues

“Take you like a drug… I taste you on my tongue.”

“You ask me what I’m thinking about—I tell you that I’m thinking about whatever you’re thinking about.”

“Go ahead and cry, little girl… Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you—I know that you got daddy issues.”

“And if you were my little girl, I’d do whatever I could do… I’d run away and hide with you.”

“I keep on trying to let you go… I’m dying to let you know how I’m getting on. I didn’t cry when you left at first, but now that you’re dead, it hurts.”

Dazai Osamu

The Neighbourhood — Sweater Weather

“And if I may just take your breath away, I don’t mind if there’s not much to say…”

“These hearts adore—everyone, the other beats hardest for… Inside, this place is warm; outside, it starts to pour...”

“One love, two mouths… one love, one house… no shirt, no blouse—just us, you find out.”

Nakahara Chuuya

The Neighbourhood — Reflections

“We were too close to the stars… I never knew somebody like you—somebody falling just as hard. I’d rather lose somebody than use somebody… Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.”

“I know you’re sick, hoping you fix whatever’s broken… Ignorant bliss, and a few sips might be the potion. I tried to put it out for you to get—could’ve, should’ve, but you never did. Wish you wanted it a little bit more, but it’s a chore for you to give.”

“So close, yet so far away… I don’t know how to be solo, so don’t go—just stay.”

“I see myself in you… Maybe you should too.”

Nikolai Gogol

The Neighbourhood — Lurk

“I want to be faithful… I want to be raw. I want to be ignorant… and I want to know all. I want to die someday… I want to live long. I want what I ask for… and I get what I want.”

“I’m thinking we should ride—to a place that we don’t know, to a place where no one’s seen us before.”

“You and I… better just go with the flow. Last thing that we should do is go slow.”

“I think that I’m human… I think about God. I think of the chances… I think that I’m wrong. I think to be thoughtful… I know that I’m not. You think I’m a fake… and I know you’re a fraud.”

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

The Neighbourhood — Wires

“We talked about making it… I’m sorry that you never made it. And it pains me just to hear you have to say it.”

“You knew the game and played it. It kills to know that you have been defeated.”

“I see the wires pulling while you’re breathing. You knew you had a reason. It killed you like diseases. I can hear it in your voice while you’re speaking—you can’t be treated.”

“Mr. Know-it-all had his reign and his fall. At least that’s what his brain is telling all. If he said help me kill the president, I’d say he needs medicine. Sick of screaming let us in… The wires got the best of him.”

[gleeful-northwest-fam]

I am just as confused as you as how this came to be I promise

Tw: Implied child abuse

—Mod 🥀

The mind is a funny, tricky thing is it not?

Preston has hated sparkling water his entire life. He could only stand carbonation in sodas and similar drinks thanks to the absurd amounts of sugar and fake flavors drowning out that horrible sensation in his tongue (even then, he'd often leave the can or bottle open for a good while before even bringing it to his lips) but water had not such luxuries– not to count how bitter it was, how the flavor stucked even after taking normal water.

It is now, as he swirls the bubbling glass bottle in his hand, that he thinks about how despite that it's been a ridiculously common drink in his life.

He can mostly recall it in childhood, downing it in silence to not bother his mother while she talked a to the other adults at whatever event she had taken him to in lack of a babysitter. The first time he tried it no one had warned him it was different from normal water, so the second the taste hit his tongue he spat the whole thing out. His mother made sure he'd never commit that same mistake again. He could never stop himself from making hideous grimances though- in his defense, they weren't just for the drinks, it was the music, the voices, the clothes he has been dressed in, the fact that he could barely keep his eyes open despite the overload to his senses- all of it trapped in the bubbles of the water.

He tried it a few times in high-school and college, mostly in poor attempts to woo girls as his father insisted they would ignore his defect if he was impressive enough. They never did, but in all honesty Preston never found the heartbreak itself quite as bitter as just feeling all the act had been in vain: the hair gel, the practiced lines, and of course the drinks and foods he'd pretend to enjoy in order to keep the conversation going. He can still remember Carla's laugh when he confessed this to her 'God, what a dork!'

Only one other time did he spit it out. He could feel his heart beating in his ears, his whole body sweating, his chest tightening, he had to take something anything he had to- in all fairness the utter disgust the drink brought him was harsh enough to completely pull him out of... whatever that state was. Panic? Why would he feel panic? It was his wedding after all, that was excitement, wasn't it?

... he's not sure why he tried so hard to convince himself, let alone for so long. Priscilla almost definitely knew before him, being the smart woman she is. Then again, Pacifica is the walking proof maybe even she had brought into the farce, for only a while.

He opens the expensive looking bottle and doesn't give the dignity to its contents to rest in a glass or cup, instead opting for the fist mug he can find. Why does he even bother? It's not alcohol, it will not exchange the horrid taste for a moment of bliss, it is utterly pointless- yet he downs the whole mug in one go, repressing the urge to puke. Its tastes of every single memory he refused to think too long of, of every comment he refused to share, every regret atht recided in the back of his head, and maybe he hopes like some medicine this bitter liquid will soften the noise for a while, focus on the terrible everything of it and imagine for a while all that misery goes down with it

It doesn't. Never will. Yet he somehow he feels like he has proven a point to... someone

"What's that?" Preston still doesn't understand how his brother manages to sneak into places completely unnoticed "Is it whisky or something? Thought you still hated drinking"

He sighed and turned around, holding out the bottle to him "Pines idea of a prank, if I were to guess"

"... wait how does he-"

"Probably his way of calling us poor"

"Ah"

Bud probably doesn't fully buy that, he knows his brother, but he doesn't press further, just takes the bottle from him and throws it to the trash can

Who cares. Is just bitter water

[blissnbullspit]

As I grasp the prime age of 32, I feel honored, humbled, and beyond blessed.

It’s probably an understatement that I’ve given life at least 1,000 opportunities to take me out, and God has shown me Grace. No matter how many times I took it for granted. From my years of alcoholism, to silly things like switching from the driver seat with a friend at 75 MPH on the freeway. The many “expected” – but unknown substances I’ve put in my body, the cars I’ve gotten into with strangers, the places I’ve passed out, the places I’ve lived, the car accidents I’ve survived. Not to mention the abusive relationships I so ignorantly entered. The secrets I kept and the friends I’ve kept… The fact that I am here today, in the continued pursuit of, and ability to embrace gratitude, is a miracle. A gift. I haven’t come through that much stupidity unscathed, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had to ride the bull in order to learn to embrace the bliss and the undeniable transformation that I stand on the other side of today.

I’m not here to elevate my story above anyone elses. We all have bliss, and we all face the bull. We all have the opportunity to embrace the ride. Some of us ride the bull and come out stronger. Some of us ride the bull, get hurt, and come out knowing better what not to do. Holding a better grip on our strengths an weaknesses. Some of us curl up in a ball and hope they don’t trample us. The truth is, at the end of the day, what’s unavoidable, is facing the bull. Where your choice comes in, is embracing the bliss that the bull brings with it.

There’s always bliss. You have to choose to embrace it.

Today, I’m releasing myself.

Today, I am the bull. I have learned to conquer him, day after day, and he is my bitch.

My 32nd birthday gift to myself is the gift of Freedom.

Freedom to share my stories. Freedom to speak my mind and beliefs. Freedom to stand up against unhealthy mindsets and beliefs. Freedom to share my God given gifts with the world without the fear that maybe I’m “too much” or “too young” or “too intense” or “showing off”. Side note – If someone doesn’t know where you came from, if they don’t know your heart or how you got where you are, don’t give them the privilege of imposing their opinion of you over your mind – impose comes from the same root word as impostor. Identify the impostors in your life, you don’t need to remove them from your life, but stop letting impostors impose their perspective of you, on you. Anyway; Freedom to share my transformative experiences. My journeys. My how-tos, my life hacks, the hours of research I’ve done on natural medicine, herbal remedies and alternative health options. My WTFs, my humbling moments, and my victories.

Freedom to empower others to transform as an uphill climb, rather than a downward spiral. I have a passion and a heart to awaken people to take their power back from themselves. To stop giving into their “Can’t” mindsets and self-talk. To raise themselves to a higher standard of excellence, based off of nothing more than their own standard.

We transform. No matter what. There’s a quote I remember, but I don’t know where I heard it. “You will choose to allow it to make you bitter, or better. The choice is upto you.”

Want to get in shape? You CAN. No one else can do it for you.

Want to become financially literate and get out of debt? You CAN. No one else can do it for you.

Want to have more time with your family, but you’re just “so busy”? You CAN. No one else can make you busy, and no one else can prioritize your time for you.

If they are… You’re letting them.

Are you sick of your core values and your life circumstances being out of alignment?

First, I got sick of having a pitiful mindset. Then I got sick of neglecting my strengths and ignoring my internal drive for better or more.

My breakthrough moment is going to seem silly, but after three years of wanting to start some kind of video diary or blog (to share at least a few of the million things I’m so glad I know)… Three. Years. I watched the movie “Babe” with my two-year-old. A simple quote of wisdom from the movie really hit home: “Little ideas that tickle and nag and refuse to go away should never be ignored. For in them lie the seeds of destiny.” This revelation sparked a transformation within me, an urgency to cultivate those seeds into a purpose— a purpose to light a fire under some asses to stop settling! Stop just accepting that you have anxiety and depression. Stop just accepting that you’re in an abusive relationship but can’t afford to get out. Stop just accepting that you can’t sleep at night. Or you just can’t anything! Are you sick of yourself and the way you’re always holding yourself back?

My heart is to walk in humility while embracing my strengths and recognizing the immense value my life has to offer. My heart is to love people through authentic realism. I am no beacon of light, so don’t think that I’m claiming anything of the sort. But if there is even a small ray of light, I’ll find it. And if given the opportunity to shine some light, you’ll find me there. I absolutely love the fact that I have often been referred to as a Sunflower, a Butterfly, a Unicorn… I hope because I sprinkle a little bit of light and magic on every life I touch. A refreshing encounter.

People are craving light in the midst of darkness. They’re drawn to it. They want to encompass it themselves. The truth? They already do. They just need to tap into it. Over feed the light wolf. Starve the dark. Give into that tiny voice that hasn’t given up on you, no matter how many times you’ve told it “you can’t”.

You’re a bad ass. Go offer the world everything beautiful and chaotic that you have to offer it. It’s not a gift if you keep it for yourself.

Face the Bull. Make it your… well, you know.

Embrace the Bliss.

The only way to the other side is through.

We may as well enjoy the ride.

Here’s a Hot Tea Cheers to my 32nd trip around the Sun.

XO

[winemom-culture]

My endocrinology appointment wasn’t good and I’m sad

My heart rate and blood pressure were both high. These things, weight loss, and my eye symptoms were the initial symptoms of my Grave’s back 2 years ago. So my doctor was like… I think you might be hyperthyroid again based on your heart.

But I don’t really know if my heart is a great metric. Bc like, my heart rate is always high. Especially at the doctor when I get anxious. I told her this, but in order to consider it not related to the thyroid she wants to see my bloodwork (expected) and a cardiologist work up. Which, that part feels a little excessive to me when I don’t necessarily think there’s anything wrong I just have a little bird heart. Arrhythmia runs very heavily on my dads side but it gives them problems with palpitations, I don’t really have those often, just like a fast baseline constantly. When I first got diagnosed with Grave’s my HR could’ve been 130-40 easy RESTING, so I sorta feel like 120 while anxious (what it was today) is relatively better? When I’m at home it definitely feels like normal until I exert. She’s like “You have to stay on beta blocker until you get your heart under 80 bpm” and I’m like lol. No offense but my heart is like never consistently under 80 even on the beta blockers 🥲 beta blockers became a big crutch to me last year and I feel like getting off them made me feel weird even though they are non-addictive I am semi-convinced that’s why I became so hyperfixated on my heart in my big anxiety spiral in 2021. I really don’t want back on them….

The thing I’m definitely NOT experiencing now is weight loss. I did the math and I’m like 80 pounds heavier then when I started going to her in 2020. And she has said that is from the thyroid medicine. Not that the medicine is bad, it’s doing it’s job of blocking thyroid hormone, but in turn that slows my metabolism a lot. I’ve tried to express my concerns about the constant weight gain, the fact that I feel like a ravenous monster, that I just can’t get a grip on it at multiple past appointments and I feel like she kinda brushes that off, always just “so anyways about that heart…..”

So now I get blood work next week for a moment of truth to see what the deal is. If I’m hyperthyroid I have to get back on my meds and probably consider surgery to take it out (that I don’t have time, money or a support system for- because my parents would be against this. That’s a whole other insane can of worms.) OR I am still in a balanced thyroid state but have to go figure out what’s wrong with my heart.

My health OCD is immediately revving up about being alone at my place, like “you don’t want to be alone all the time with high heart rate and blood pressure do you? What if you stroke out and die? Right there where you’re sitting?” Which is funny, ‘cause yesterday I didn’t know any better and was perfectly fine being alone, while presumably in the exact same boat healthwise. Ignorance was bliss

I’m feel like I’m gaining like 5 pounds every time I step on a scale and it’s so frustrating and upsetting, I literally have to get it figured out and under control this year. I’m totally just overwhelmed and don’t know how to start or how to truly stick to it. I cried my whole way home and I’m getting myself worked up again venting this out. Hope I can keep that pain fresh in my mind as motivation. Real meltdown hours. I don’t want all these problems at 26. It’s making me think about stuff down the road, what if I decide in 2 or 3 years I do want to have another kid after all? I genuinely don’t think as it is right now I would be medically advised to try. It only gets more high-risk as I get older. The thyroid and fertility/complications go hand in hand. It’s like, y’know, that’s awhile down the road there’s still time, but I’m 2 years out from initial diagnosis and as of right now I feel much more vaguely unhealthy in a general sense than I did then.

I just wish there were a more receptive endo around here but as far as I can tell from looking in the past, this office is really the best we got rn.

[keepingupwithpotters]

If you’re taking prompts

“You’re really warm.” and

“Come back to bed. Please” for jily pls??

I am laughing at for jily like I'm capable of writing for anything else. I promise you, even if it is about two unrelated characters, I'll find a way to make it about jily

Also finally put the drabbles on ao3 as promised so you can read this there as well

Fretting over Lily Evans was nothing new for James, but this time might’ve put him to his early grave after all.

He touches her forehead discreetly, trying not to disturb her sleep. She went in and out of her slumber all night, giving him a scare half the time with her nonsensical mumblings. He doesn’t recall when exactly he fell asleep too, not long ago according to the rising sun, but that’s how he finds himself next to her now.

Blinking his eyes woozily, he gives himself permission for a moment of bliss before jumping into action, pretending they are lying side by side not because she is burning like a furnace, but like he always wakes up next to Lily, this hair tickling his shoulder not unusual.

He can only guess what prompted her to call him last night. A bitter part of him thinks it’s because she knew he would come running, no questions asked. It’s hard to ignore that part when that was exactly what he did, probably before he even hung up the phone. There is, of course, always the chance that it was the side effect of her running fever. One should not underestimate it, he learned that firsthand all through the night.

The pretense falls apart when he feels Lily’s skin, panic rising inside him all over again. He has spent the whole night trying to make sure her temperature didn’t pass 40 degrees, hand ready over his phone for the minute it did. It feels like it has risen again, her cheeks flaming bright to prove his insight right.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss my forehead?”

She startles him, with the question or her half open eyes smiling dozily at him, he doesn’t know.

“Why would I take advantage of the ill, Evans?”

Her smile gets softer, fonder. “That’s how my mom used to take my temperature.”

He’s never been able to say no to that smile.

She closes her eyes with the kiss, looking content and peaceful, not at all like the bedridden patient she is supposed to be. He lingers one second longer than necessary.

He has forgotten the purpose of the act until she looks at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.

“You’re really warm.”

She doesn’t care for his furrowed brows or less than satisfactory explanation when she snuggles into him, purring, “Thank you, so are you.”

“That was not a compliment, Evans.” He tries to hide the fact his breath hitches when she burrows her face in his neck. “That means I am doing something very, very wrong. Are you sure you don’t want me to call anybody else?”

Her hold on him tightens even further if possible. She sounds like a petulant child when she whines her refusal. He can imagine, and feel, her pout.

He tries to untangle himself from her, but she looks so offended by his actions that he feels the need to explain himself. “I need to wet these rags again, and you need to eat some breakfast so you can take your antipyretics.”

She opens her mouth to say something, another refusal going by her displeased expression, but he jumps from the bed before she can tempt her more.

He goes to the bathroom first, thinking maybe some cool water would do him good too. She is already asleep by the time he comes back, hand reaching out to where he once laid on the bed. He places the damp clothes on her forehead with a grin, letting it take over his face while she is not able to see it. The pills he found when he rummaged through her medicine cabinet are put on her nightstand, waiting for his arrival with some food.

Preparing some eggs and toast helps him gather himself a little more, the habitual routine putting his brain on autopilot. The morning feels like something out of James’ dreams with Lily cuddling him in the bed and him making her breakfast, he finds it necessary to remind himself the true nature of the situation as he fills a glass of water for her.

She is awake when he enters the room, following his motions silently as he puts the plate on her side too. He is just about to sit on the chair by her bedside when she stops him with a hand on his arm.

“I promise I’ll eat something in a minute. Can you just… come back to bed? Please?”

His will already weakened since he woke up, he finds that it crumbles completely when he hears her voice so weak, tone so pleading. He lays down on his previous place without saying anything, her head finding his shoulder immediately.

A small hand traces patterns on his chest, nails tickling the heart underneath with every swoop. They could probably live in that relaxed bubble forever if the question nagging inside him just hadn’t popped out unexpectedly.

“Why did you call me yesterday, Lily?”

The finger drawing flowers, stars, and initials never stops its movement. “Because I had a high fever, and I didn’t want to go to the ER.”

“No. I mean, why did you call me?”

He holds his breath in anticipation of her answer, and she stills momentarily too before shaking out of her stupor. “I wanted to be with you.” Her voice sounds so small. “I always want to be with you, you know that.”

There is relief ballooning inside him with her words, mixed with something he dares not name. He hums softly as a response, neither denying nor confirming her assumption.

“We can stay in bed for one more minute, then I’m gonna make you eat that breakfast, Evans.”

“Two, because you just took advantage of a sick person’s honesty and I deserve it.”

“Deal.”

He’ll let her pretend like he won’t do anything she asks for. They both know it’s a lie anyway.

[isthisthingeven0n]

every word : a.h

hotch wakes up with an unexpecting phone call, one he’s longed to hear; you’re awake. (1.9k) 

a/n : holy shit you guys i didn’t expect this response to ‘hear you’ but thank you so much! i promise there’s a happy ending to this, i think we all need it 

hear you / every word 

all my links

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

Rolling over, you shuffle closer into his embrace, feeling his breath fanning across your shoulder. “Are you awake?” Aaron whispers, brushing his lips across your neck, listening to you giggle.

“Well, I am now,” You joke, lifting your gaze up to your boyfriend, never tiring of his drowsy smile. “I suspect we have approximately two minutes of privacy.” You whisper, and Aaron nods in agreement.

“Let’s make the most of it then,” Aaron mutters as he wraps both arms around you, pulling you on top of him as you try and suppress your squeal. “you gotta be quiet, honey.” He whispers into your lips as he kisses you softly, feeling you moan happily.

“Wait,” You pause, resting your hands on either side of Aaron’s head as you peer your head up toward the door, seeing the knob rattling.

Swiftly, you lie back down beside Aaron as you pretend to sleep and snore loudly like a cartoon character.

Within seconds, the door opens and Jack rushes in. He jumps up onto Aaron’s bed and lands in between you both.

“You’re just like your Dad, Jack,” You chuckle as he dives underneath the sheets, curling up in between you and Aaron. “king of subtlety.”  

Aaron laughs lightly as Jack pops his head back up from under the sheets, messing his hair up as he looks between you and his Dad. “Do you have work today?” Jack asks with a heavy heart.

“Not that we know of,” You happily tell the mini Hotchner who smiles brightly. “so, what do you wanna do today then little man?”

You perch up on your elbow, listening to Jack intently as he rambles on about all the things you could do today, forgetting that there are so many hours in a day. But just watching you with Jack, Aaron feels at peace, that he’s finally allowed himself a chance at happiness with you by his side.

Opening his eyes, Hotch looks around.

It was just another dream. You’re still in the hospital.

Sighing heavily to himself, Hotch wipes his face as faint sunlight tries to filter through his blinds. Ever since you went into the hospital, he hasn’t had a full night sleep. You possess his mind, haunt his dreams of a simple life that he’s unsure he’ll ever have back.

Hotch turns to look at your side of the bed, untouched. Your pillows remain perfectly fluffed up as your perfume coats the cotton, weaved into the fabric that provides some comfort in the dead of night.

“I miss you, Y/n.” Hotch mutters under his breath, returning to lie flat on his back as he stares up at his ceiling, missing those early mornings of bliss with you and Jack, his family.

Yet, out of the corner of his eye, Hotch can see his phone lighting up. Without hesitation, he reaches for it and answers it. “Hotchner,” He responds, now sitting upright.

“Hi Mr Hotchner, we have you down as Ms Y/l/n emergency contact?” A woman on the other end of the phone questions and Hotch tears the sheets from his body, now perching on the edge of the bed with his feet hanging just above the floor.

“That’s correct, has something happened?” Hotch asks as the worst possibilities cloud his mind and remains unaware of his bedroom door opening and Jack peering in to see his Dad tensing up with his phone against his ear.

“Ms Y/l/n has woken up,” The woman states, and Hotch has to catch his breath as his heart hammers against his chest.

Barely able to process anything else the woman on the phone says, Hotch just nods to himself. “I’ll be right there, thank you.” He tells her and hangs up, taking a moment as he laughs happily to himself, ignoring the tears forming in his eyes.

“Is Mom awake?” A tired voice inputs and Hotch glances over his shoulder to see Jack stood there in his PJ’s, fidgeting as he leans against the door.

Rising to his feet, Hotch walks over to his son and kneels down. “Yeah, buddy,” Hotch quietly states with a smile crossing his face. “come on, we gotta go.” He tells his son, taking his hand as they both head downstairs for their things before rushing out of the door without a second thought.

*

It felt strange, that much was undeniable. Every time you blinked, you worried your eyes wouldn’t open again, that you’d be forced back into the darkness alone.

You were regaining control of your limbs as your Doctor explained everything to you in detail once you were fully conscious and competent. Part of you wondered if you dreamed everything you heard whilst in a comatose state, but as you listened to your Doctor, he was simply telling you everything you already knew.

Now, it was early- you knew that much as you sat upright enjoying the warmth basking your skin.

“Sir, you have to come back during visiting hours,” Your ears perk up to the sound of voices in the corridors, and suddenly the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as his voice stands out.

“I haven’t seen her for weeks, please,” Hotch pleads, his voice cracking as he moves on, heading to your private room. He pauses outside of it, the blinds still closed. “hey Jack?”

Jack looks up at his Dad, clad in his PJ’s and slippers, but covered in his coat for warmth. “Yeah?”

“Mind giving me a minute okay? I just wanna talk to Mom privately.” Hotch asks, and Jack simply nods as sleep still laces his mind.

Standing up tall, Hotch tries his best to compose himself as he reaches for the door handle and pushes the door open.

“Hey stranger,” Your voice is raspy but clear as Hotch stands in disbelief. He closes the door behind him quietly as he keeps his focus on you, seeing you awake and looking right back at him.

“Y/n,” He breathes out, forcing his feet forward toward your bed as a sad smile forms your lips whilst they quiver. “oh, Y/n.” He reaches out, unable to stop himself as he hugs you tightly, not wishing to part from you again.

You rub your hand across his back as you feel him sob into you. “Aaron,” You mumble, ignoring the tears falling from your eyes as he pulls away and sits down beside you, his hand never leaving yours. “I’ve missed you so much.” You tell him, sniffing as you remain in disbelief. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Hotch chuckles to himself. “I’m so sorry Y/n, for everything that happened that night, I, I should’ve walked with you.” He explains, but you squeeze his hand tightly, cutting him off.

“It wasn’t your fault, Aaron,” You sigh in relief. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to tell you that.” You laugh, and Hotch furrows his brows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asks, clearly perplexed.

You shuffle in your hospital bed, ignoring the mild throbbing of your forehead as you take a sip of water, even if it still burns your throat.

“It’s going to sound insane,” You preface, but Aaron keeps his eyes on you. “I, well, I heard everything whilst I was in the coma.”

Glancing up, you see Hotch staring back at you with that unreadable expression. “Everything?” He asks quietly, and you nod in response. “That, that’s insane, honey.” He tells you.

“Yeah,” You know it’s crazy, hell, how could you possibly begin to fathom it? “but I heard every conversation, every visit from the team and when you came,” You trail off. “yet, all I could think about was telling you that it isn’t your fault. None of it was or ever will be.” You tell him, not daring to tear your gaze from his. “I love you, Aaron, so please, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You heard me?” His voice softens as you nod. “I, I,”

“It’s okay, Aaron, you don’t have to say anything else.” You smile, lifting your hand from his as you place it on his cheek, missing the feeling of his cheeks rising as he smiles into your palm.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Hotch admits, feeling the searing pain cross his heart at the thought.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Hotchner.” You joke, stroking away the stray tears that fall from his eyes.

You glance over his shoulder, noticing the door beginning to open.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” You whisper, and Hotch quickly wipes his eyes as Jack shyly enters.

“Come on over, buddy,” Hotch calls over his son who rushes over.

“Hey, Jack,” You try your best to remain composed as Jack looks up at you with those big eyes, full of love. “I’ve missed you, kiddo.” Your voice cracks and Jack stands in front of his Dad who helps him up onto your bed.

“I’ve missed you, Mom.” Jack remains strong as he hugs you, both arms around your neck as you hold him close.

“I see your Dad wasted no time in getting here, huh?” You joke, seeing him in his PJ’s like Aaron. “I feel a bit left out.” You ease into laughing with Jack, knowing it’s the best medicine for situations like this.

Seeing you with Jack, laughing like old times despite everything is just another reason why Hotch loves you with his whole heart.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Hotch comments as you nod to him before averting your attention back to the mini Hotchner, listening to his stories from school.

He glances through the now opened blinds, seeing you smiling with all your might, despite the evident fear in your eyes.

Hotch takes out his phone and dials Rossi, knowing he’d need to know.

“Rossi.” Dave answers.

“Dave, Y/n’s awake.” Hotch states and Rossi laughs happily through the line and can hear him telling Krystall the good news.

“Oh Aaron, that’s excellent news, is she alright?” Rossi asks, now sitting down as Krystall pats his shoulder before heading into the kitchen.

“She’s doing okay,” Hotch comments, looking over his shoulder at you and Jack. “she’s vulnerable, but I can tell she’s putting on a front for Jack’s sake.” Hotch explains.

“I’m just glad she’s awake,” Rossi sighs. “does she know how long she’s been out?”

Hotch chuckles under his breath. “Y/n erm, she heard everyone the entire time.” Hotch states. “I know it sounds crazy, and trust me, I agree, but she explained how she could hear every conversation someone had with her or others in the room.”

“Damn,” Rossi whistles. “Reid's going to have a field day with this.” Rossi tuts, hearing Hotch laugh lightly. “That’s a lot to have on her mind, though, Aaron.”

“Yeah,” Hotch mutters. “it’s going to be a process for all of us, but we’ll work through it, as a family.”

Rossi smiles to himself, having seen Hotch at his lowest to his highest of highs with you by his side. “Send her our love, okay?”

“I will, thanks Dave.” Hotch hangs up after that and takes a moment to compose himself, knowing it’ll all work out in the end, as you have each other, and that’s all that matters.

okay so thank you for reading! and thank you to these wonderful angels for their amazing and entertaining comments: @spencerreidsoulmate @ellyhotchner @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @ssa-kassidyhughes @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @lumineshawn @oreogutz​ @prentisswrites​ @theinsanespaceship15​ 

[hieromonkcharbel]

Prayer to St Mary Magdalene (Feast July 22nd)

by St. Anselm

St. Mary Magdalene, you came with springing tears to the spring of mercy, Christ; from Him your burning thirst was abundantly refreshed through Him your sins were forgiven; by Him your bitter sorrow was consoled.

My dearest lady, well you know by your own life how a sinful soul can be reconciled with its Creator, what counsel a soul in misery needs, what medicine will restore the sick to health. It is enough for us to understand, dear friend of God, to whom were many sins forgiven, because she loved much.

Most blessed lady, I who am the most evil and sinful of men do not recall your sins as a reproach, but call upon the boundless mercy by which they were blotted out. This is my reassurance, so that I do not despair; this is my longing, so that I shall not perish.

I say this of myself, miserably cast down into the depths of vice, bowed down with the weight of crimes, thrust down by my own hand into a dark prison of sins, wrapped round with the shadows of darkness.

Therefore, since you are now with the chosen because you are beloved and are beloved because you are chosen of God, I, in my misery, pray to you, in bliss; in my darkness, I ask for light; in my sins, redemption; impure, I ask for purity.

Recall in loving kindness what you used to be, how much you needed mercy, and seek for me that same forgiving love that you received when you were wanting it. Ask urgently that I may have the love that pierces the heart; tears that are humble; desire for the homeland of heaven; impatience with this earthly exile; searing repentance; and a dread of torments in eternity.

Turn to my good that ready access that you once had and still have to the spring of mercy.

Draw me to him where I may wash away my sins; bring me to him who can slake my thirst; pour over me those waters that will make my dry places fresh. You will not find it hard to gain all you desire from so loving and so kind a Lord, who is alive and reigns and is your friend.

For who can tell, beloved and blest of God, with what kind familiarity and familiar kindness he himself replied on your behalf to the calumnies of those who were against you? How He defended you, when the proud Pharisee was indignant, how He excused you, when your sister complained, how highly He praised your deed, when Judas begrudged it.

And, more than all this, what can I say, how can I find words to tell, about the burning love with which you sought him, weeping at the sepulchre, and wept for Him in your seeking?

How He came, who can say how or with what kindness, to comfort you, and made you burn with love still more; how He hid from you when you wanted to see Him, and showed Himself when you did not think to see Him; how He was there all the time you sought Him, and how He sought you when, seeking Him, you wept.

But you, most holy Lord, why do You ask her why she weeps? Surely You can see; her heart, the dear life of her soul, is cruelly slain. O love to be wondered at; O evil to be shuddered at! You hung on the wood, pierced by iron nails, stretched out like a thief for the mockery of wicked men; and yet, "Woman," You say, "why are you weeping?" She had not been able to prevent them from killing You, but at least she longed to keep Your Body for a while with ointments lest it decay. No longer able to speak with You living, at least she could mourn for You dead. So, near to death and hating her own life, she repeats in broken tones the words of life which she had heard from the living.

And now, besides all this, even the Body which she was glad, in a way, to have kept, she believes to have gone. And can You ask her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" Had she not reason to weep? For she had seen with her own eyes -- if she could bear to look -- what cruel men cruelly did to You; and now all that was left of You from their hands she thinks she has lost. All hope of You has fled, for now she has not even Your lifeless Body to remind her of You.

And someone asks, "Who are you looking for? Why are you weeping?"

You, her sole joy, should be the last thus to increase her sorrow. But You know it all well, and thus you wish it to be, for only in such broken words and sighs can she convey a cause of grief as great as hers. The love You have inspired You do not ignore,

And indeed You know her well, the Gardener, who planted her soul in His garden. What You plant, I think You also water. Do You water, I wonder, or do You test her? In fact, You are both watering and putting to the test.

But now, good Lord, gentle Master, look upon your faithful servant and disciple, so lately redeemed by Your Blood, and see how she burns with anxiety, desiring You, searching all round, questioning, and what she longs for is nowhere found. Nothing she sees can satisfy her, since You whom alone she would behold, she sees not.

What then? How long will my Lord leave his beloved to suffer thus? Have You put off compassion now You have put on incorruption? Did You let go of goodness when you laid hold of immortality?

Let it not be so, Lord. You will not despise us mortals now You have made Yourself immortal, for You made yourself a mortal in order to give us immortality.

And so it is; for love's sake He cannot bear her grief for long or go on hiding Himself. For the sweetness of love He shows Himself who would not for the bitterness of tears.

The Lord calls His servant by the name she has often heard and the servant knows the voice of her own Lord. I think, or rather I am sure, that she responded to the gentle tone with which He was accustomed to call, "Mary." What joy filled that voice, so gentle and full of love. He could not have put it more simply and clearly:

"I know who you are and what you want; behold Me; do not weep, behold Me; I am He whom you seek."

At once the tears are changed; I do not believe that they stopped at once, but where once they were wrung from a heart broken and self-tormenting they flow now from a heart exulting. How different is, "Master!" from "If you have taken Him away, tell me"; and, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him," has a very different sound from, "I have seen the Lord, and he has spoken to me."

But how should I, in misery and without love, dare to describe the love of God and the blessed friend of God? Such a flavour of goodness will make my heart sick if it has in itself nothing of that same virtue. But in truth, You who are very Truth, You know me well and can testify that I write this for the love of Your love, my Lord, my most dear Jesus. I want Your love to burn in me as You command so that I may desire to love You alone and sacrifice to You a troubled spirit, "a broken and a contrite heart."

Give me, O Lord, in this exile, the bread of tears and sorrow for which I hunger more than for any choice delights. Hear me, for Your love, and for the dear merits of your beloved Mary, and Your blessed Mother, the greater Mary. Redeemer, my good Jesus, do not despise the prayers of one who has sinned against You but strengthen the efforts of a weakling that loves You. Shake my heart out of its indolence, Lord, and in the ardour of Your love bring me to the everlasting sight of Your glory where with the Father and the Holy Spirit You live and reign, God, for ever. Amen.

[estellaelysian]

It burns (Ethan x MC)

A/N: This is super self indulgent and doesn’t lead anywhere so proceed on your own risk

**********

The alcohol scorched down his throat as he let his mind wander in the memories of the day, which seemed too distant now that it was over. Evening shaded into night beyond the red-brick walls of the bar – which were lined with numerous neon signs, the glow spilling onto nearby tables and people. Ethan chased the shadow of Alishka as his mind jumped from one moment to the next in all those where they had interacted with each other over the day. The image of her deep green eyes, wavy brown hair and full lips remained forever etched into his mind, giving him warmth like an eternal flame would.

It was late when he made it to this bar – Russo and Dale – but it was also when he found Boston the most loveable, shimmering in the glow of night, her streets thrumming with life and beating hearts and cheerfulness. He had taken an unnecessary walk from the hospital to his destination, wanting to feel anonymous in the dull crowd of people who were walking down the street. The permanence of the aged buildings, the restored Victorian row-houses surrounding English-style corners and the glowing yellow street lamps in South End seemed to give somewhat of a reassurance to his bruised and tired soul as he weaved his way among the sea of strangers. Walking wearily past dark shops, while the sky turned to a deep blue-black above him, he tried to find solace in the anonymity.

But now, at long last, when he found himself alone again, the unease returned, stronger than ever. He took a sip of the amber liquid, then another and then a third, but nothing seemed to ease him as he listened to the determined thud of a bass from the neighboring dive-bar. The foolish chatter around him did not drown out the rising voices inside his head – her voice and his, as they had argued in his office long into the afternoon.

That one argument had been enough to disrupt the entire balance he had built with the same woman whom he had disappointed today. But it was a mutual disappointment. She had been irrelevant to.

Shaking his head, he took another sip, letting the alcohol burn down his throat as he stared – quite intently – at the marble counter in front of him. It was amazing really, that the woman from whom he drew his strength could also be one of his greatest weaknesses. That was exactly why he had retired to his old office in the afternoon. He had lost focus, so instead of looking into patient care, he thought drowning himself into paperwork would help.

But indeed, it had not. Did it ever?

His mind, like a blissful dog scampering back to its lamppost, seemed to be stuck at the argument – making assumptions about the way she sounded, acted, spoke – no matter how much he tried to distract himself. Everything blurred around him, as if he had tuned out from his surroundings.

Why, he thought, was it so necessary for her to be insistent about things that did not matter to him? To latch onto one subject and stretch it until his patience snapped?

Or had he been truly unreasonable this time?

Oh dear God…

He swirled the gleaming liquid in its glass slowly before taking another sip, intent on numbing his brain, only that it refused from being so. Over and over again, her voice tortured him from deep inside; calling him out on the stubborn asshole he was before fading, only to return for the millionth time.

But wasn’t that the point of tonight? To get as far away as he could from the hospital, go to a bar in South End, and let the alcohol ease his pain and anxiety.

The door opened and someone stepped in, bringing together a cool Boston breeze and faint traces of wildflowers. Though his senses seemed unnaturally sharpened at this point, his eyes remained glued to his glass. But just a few seconds later, he found the woman right beside him, the scent of wildflowers much more perceptible.

Green flashed in his mind, deep and comforting, as he connected the scent, almost instinctively, to the one person it reminded him of.

Hold yourself, Ramsey.

In his peripheral vision, he saw the woman flag down the bartender and order a rainbow colored cocktail before turning away for a moment or two.

‘Quite the pain-relief, isn’t it?’ she asked in a mellifluous, sweet voice which fell like honey onto his tongue.

He could swear it was Alishka’s voice, but maybe he had dived too deep into the alcohol pain-relief. He had started imagining things.

Sensing that she was probably still expecting an answer, he nodded before looking straight at her.

And almost immediately, thought of Alishka Roy, even though he had put up a boundary between him and those insistent, maddening thoughts.

He didn’t realize it at first, but that smile – he would recognize it anywhere, anytime, no matter how detached he was.

But Alishka?

Nonsense. He was losing his mind.

‘I should’ve guessed my boss would come here after the much-exhausting day he faced at work today. It would’ve atleast saved me the time I spent wandering about.’

He raised his eyes to her face again. This was not an illusion. She was real, he thought, as he glanced at her hot coral lips which now wore an amused smile. He was not dreaming.

But why would she feel the need to wander about for him?

Do you really need an answer for that, dimwit, his mind chided.

‘Ofcourse you’d follow me here too,’ he said bluntly, battling away the sweeter responses, raising the glass to his lips.

‘You are not my boss outside of work, Dr. Ramsey. It is my freewill to do as I want to once I step outside the hospital.’

He looked up at her again, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. ‘Says the woman who bothers me all the same, inside or out.’

She made a dismissive wave, an easy laughter leaving her. ‘You’ve got a horrid sense of humor,’ she said. ‘Perhaps that is why everyone is terrified of you, even now.’

The last two words stung with an unimaginable burn, questioning the character he had spent years to build.

‘What do you mean, “even now”?’ he asked, the words coming out much more defiant than he wanted them to.

She smiled a benevolent smile as the bartender dropped off her cocktail, which smelled strongly of Pernod. Raising the glass up to meet her lips with tantalizing slowness, she said, ‘Even now, when they’ve learned that you can love something, someone more than medicine. Wholeheartedly.’

He choked on his drink involuntarily, but she went on, as if she hadn’t heard him at all. ‘And yet, at the same time, you can manage to be incredibly bitter to that someone.’

She took a long gulp of her cocktail, and again, before he could respond to her grievances, she said, ‘But anyway, I am not here to discuss that.’

Play pretend, he thought.

‘And why exactly, is it that you are here?’

‘Same as you. Pain-relief. My boss can be a real bore sometimes,’ she answered with the faintest traces of a smirk.

Let’s hear it now, shall we. ‘Who is your boss?’ he asked, going along with her little game.

‘Some world class, renowned, grumpy attending diagnostician.’

He liked how she complimented him and got a dig at him in the same sentence.

‘He seems to have a stressful job,’ he said, looking over the glass to her heavenly features, painted in the neon glow of the bar.

‘That he likes to imply. He is good at what he does.’

He nodded, trying to contemplate her answer, thinking that there would be traces of sarcasm in her answer, but found none.

‘Cheers to that,’ he said, clinking her glass with his own, their fingers brushing slightly, setting his body ablaze with the kind of fire that raged through forests. It was the closest they had got to touching that day, morning apart.

He finished the scotch in one long sip under her watchful gaze. Torture or bliss, there was no answer.

Though dulled by the excesses of the alcohol, he felt anger rise inside his body at the men who made glances in her direction, from a distance or even as they passed her. She seemed to draw much more gazes today than she did usually.

What exactly was it? Her rich brown hair, inching down her back, or those emerald eyes that gleamed with cleverness? And why, every time, did his jealousy had him to do things which he shouldn’t have been doing?

He didn’t know.

What he did know, was that he wouldn’t let those men even get near her.

So he raised a hand to her face, smoothing away stray strands of hair and tucking them behind her ear.

If she was surprised, she did not show it, but a lovely blush spread out on her cheeks, spreading down to her graceful neck and uncovered shoulders. She eyed him with a raised eyebrow, and he willfully ignored all the ideas that look gave him. Tonight was different. Even if they left the bar together, they would part ways almost as soon as they were outside, walking down in opposite directions.

Tonight they were fighting, even though it was different.

Even if he had to have his heart tugged and pulled and then torn, tonight was different.

Her emeralds met his sapphires, curious and bewitching.

He wished he could kiss those perfectly painted lips and ruin that makeup.

‘How about we make a deal then,’ she asked, setting down the glass on the paper napkin that was left on the shiny marble counter. ‘Tonight, let’s forget everything. Let’s forget that you are my irritating boss, let’s forget that I am a – what did you call me? – ah, bothersome resident. Let’s forget those men staring down at me from the opposite corner of the bar. Let’s put a pause on this battlefield, even though I am sure I can outwit you in every way, and let’ go home together.’

That was a tempting offer.

The suggestive tone and the desire burning plain in her eyes ignited his need for her.

How could he not resist her, even a single night?

His voice came out dusky when he spoke again. ‘Let’s put them topics to bed, and go fuck on the roof.’

Just to say that we did.

She smiled. ‘I’d rather your body than half of your heart,’ she said, quoting the song back to him, her voice the sweetest he had ever heard it to be.

Ethan blinked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell her that he was far from fighting or if he wanted to claim those lips, right now, right here.

Then he saw, over her shoulder, a man whisper something to another before looking at her neck. He felt disgusted as his gaze traveled lower and lower. He was suddenly overcome by the desire to punch him in his filthy face, but he kept his expression carefully neutral, not betraying a single of the feelings he was feeling at that exact moment.

‘Let’s go home then,’ he announced, rising at once and reaching for her hand.

He led her outside into the cool crisp Boston night and she only felt justified in flagging down a cab to the way home, though it wasn’t that far away.

They could’ve walked there.

But then he wouldn’t get to do as he willed right in the cab, as he decided he need not waste a single minute of the time he had been gifted, by incidence or co-incidence, all the same. He failed to keep his hands to himself in the darkened cab, momentarily being illuminated by headlights and taillights of the passing traffic, as he crowed her into a corner, evoking soft moans. He watched her, bathed in red light, her sequined top glittering as the light shifted against her profile. Her eyes met his and he lost his sane, his coherent thoughts reducing to a small compass in his brain. Her lips commanded his attention, and he pressed his lips against them, evoking a gentle sigh as their breaths mingled. Her soft fingers grazed his rough beard as her hand rested against his cheek.

The music masked their muffled whispers and moans, but he could feel the drivers eyes, moving with unnecessary regularity, from the road ahead to the rearview mirror.

Even in the elevator, they stumbled, failing from keeping themselves from touching each other. The button to the thirteenth floor was pressed before he felt the soft pressure of her lips against his own. Her tongue was cool and sweet and tasted of Pernod.

‘Alishka…’ he managed to say between the kisses. ‘Why do we fight at all?’

‘Because we are …’ a little giggle. ‘Both … very stubborn …’

A few seconds later they stood at his door, which was unlocked with haste and shut close with a loud bang. The moment they stepped inside, he dipped his head and closed his lips over hers.

‘Nothing makes sense without you…’ he murmured into her ear, proceeding to tug her tight against him.

‘Then accept your defeat …’ she returned immediately, making a quick work of his shirt buttons. ‘But then again, we’ve called a temporary pause on this battlefield, haven’t we.’

Albeit reluctantly, he agreed. ‘We have.’

He led her to the bedroom, helping her out of her clothes before easing her down on the mattress gently, deciding the bitterness and pain had been enough for the day. The night had to be different.

Slow, gentle hands grazed the newly exposed skin with caresses too soft, before he leaned down on her, gazing into her eyes, letting his forehead rest against hers.

‘I love you.’

She giggled again. ‘I love you too.’

**********

Kudos to you guys if you made it out of this chaotic mess my brain put together. I honestly don’t know how this happened, but I guess it’s just me after a full, very real college day with loads of note-taking.

Tagging: @tenaciouslandvoidgiant @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @starrystarrytrouble

Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[drethanramslay]

Letters of Love and Longing (6)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x M!MC (Dev Lennox)

Letters of Love and Longing Masterlist

Requested by @sinner-chan- #75 & #84 

Author’s note: So I cried while I was writing this so just keep your tissues on standby. Also, I gained some inspiration form Heather by Conan Gray 

Year: 1943 Location: Kasserine Pass, Tunisia

Respected Dr Ethan Ramsey,

I can’t help but laugh at how I can’t get over this formal salutation when you are probably the only person who knows me intimately, both physically and emotionally.

It is true! Absolutely no one knows me for me… No one knows my fears… No one knows how foolish and deadly the words “be yourself” are to a person like me because that could be the very thing that could get me jailed or worse killed. Nobody knows me, Dev Aidan Lennox. Nobody but you.

At first, when I fell in love with you, I almost resented your intrusion.

I was okay with hiding my true self, a homosexual, do you know that? I had made my peace that I would be in a loveless marriage with a wife who will never be satisfied and with kids in a modest suburban in Boston. I had made my peace that this my punishment and that I was just born to suffer. I had made my peace that I would probably die unloved and alone.

But you changed that. And I hate you for it.

You read it right. I hate you. I hate you for seeing right through my misery. I hate you for making me open up to you. I hate you for digging out the part of me that I had kept under lock and key. I hate you for kissing me under the inky skies of Miami. I hate you for all the passionate lovemaking. I hate you for giving me the one thing that I was so afraid of-

Hope.

You gave me hope of a future. You gave me love and affection in a way I had never been acquainted with. You gave me a safe space in you, where I could be my truest self with you.

Your presence to me was like St. Peter’s shadow to those sick men; it healed me, but it made me long for more than the shadow. The thought that you would walk through other cities where I could not follow, filled me with emptiness. But you never once let me get drowned in that emptiness.

We were there for each other through the hardships, through the happiness, through the pain and through the love. For the two of us, home wasn’t a place. Home for us was not mortar, bricks and cement. It was blood, flesh and bones. We were each other’s home. You said those words to me.

But I should have known that you were a liar.

So here I am, back to square one. I am lonely, meant to die alone and go to my grave with my true self as a secret. The only thing different is that I am heartbroken and shattered with no hope whatsoever.

I will never forget that black letter day. The day when I walked into Donahues, to meet you for our regular drink before going back to your home on the hills. It was supposed to be a regular Saturday night. But how the turntables.

She was standing at your arm, looking up at you with similar adoration and starry eyes as I am around you. That would have still been okay because I knew whose bed you would come to and how you didn’t care about other women’s infatuation with you.

But she had a ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.

When I turned to you for an explanation, I saw the impassive mask rather than your handsome smile. The eyes which I could so easily read were ice cold and impenetrable. Your arm wrapped around her waist and you introduced her to me- your fiancée.

I have never been a person who hated anyone. I was not one for jealousy either but at that moment… I just wish she were dead. And I was at your arm rather than her. I wished the world wasn’t so harsh and I wished that you would man up and love me.

A part of me silently pleaded that you would leave her and come with me. I know you could see it in my eyes how I was two seconds away from getting down to my knees and begging.

But you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. It was your silence that broke me. It was your silence that completely and utterly shattered me.

Congrats Dr. Ethan Jonah Ramsey, you broke me. You will get over it, oh I know you will. You will stick that stony facade on your face as you say “I do” at the altar. You will convince yourself that you love her and those three special words which were meant for me will be your new mantra to keep her happy and unsuspicious. You will grow old, have three kids who have the same brilliant blue eyes like yours. You will continue to make major breakthroughs in medicine and probably get awards for it. You will be sad but satiated.

You will move on. But I won’t because I am catastrophically in love with you. And I am such a buffoon Ethan that I will never, not in a thousand tragic outcomes, ever regret loving you.

I have a serious affliction: loving you forever.

Guess that is one of the other things I will be carrying to my grave, eh?

I am stationed in Kasserine pass which people have dubbed as death’s doorstep. I don’t see much chances of survival since we are lacking in preparation and resources. So when you get this letter, I might be gone… forever. I think of it as a blessing because a life without you isn’t a life worth living. I see it as a mercy.

I have lived a good life. I have had the privilege to get your love so I am not afraid to die. So, thank you.

I honestly don’t know the purpose of this letter when I am never going to read your reply. But I guess it is better that way for they say, ignorance is bliss. Because if I were to hear from you, my hopes would escalate and I can’t bear that.

I won’t be able to survive that.

I have said my piece so I hope it can give me the contentment that I have craved all my life in my dying hour. But I want you to know that it is your face I will see and your lips that I will feel when I breathe my last.

I wish you the best of everything, my love.

Yours forever,

Dev.

See, I don't want to be a dick but Dev succumbed to his injuries and passed away😭😭😭 6500 Americans out of 30000 Americans passed away. It was a tactical attack causing Germany to win and it didn't help that the Americans weren't prepared AT ALL. 

And it it true that an homosexuals suffered during that time period. In Britain alone 49000 homosexuals died because of the sexual identity, be it imprisonment or chemical castration via hormone therapy. So you get it why it happened that way. 

This was something completely new for me and i hope you like it 💓 I would definitely wanna dive into Ethan x M!MC in the future 😊

Tagging separately

[ceratonia-siliqua]

Sunshine

Baby’s first stucky fic! A/B/O based on a post from awhile back about omegas being soft and smelling good after laying in the sun. If I find it again I will link it!

Written because of prompting from @the1918 and @howdoyousleep3. It’s not my usual poetic musings but sometimes you just need some unadulterated fluff. 

Warnings: The lightest, barest amount of angst if you squint. This work is also left ambiguous as to the history prior to this so it can be as close or as far from canon as you would like it to be!

Sunlight, unfettered and sweet filtered through the window. Cast a long glowing shadow across the light wooden flooring. The light traced the imperfection in the wood, every scratch and gorge on display. It was a sight, one made homely by the nest pooling across the floor. It was small, temporary, one built by an omega for comfort than by an alpha for home. A lump made warm and honeyed by the light rested in it’s center. Long strands of hair stuck out wildly from it, messy in a sleepy way. A way that made Steve’s heart melt into a molten, sticky mess. 

He slowly made his way over, taking in the sight of his omega in a state of sound and utter peace. Bucky had burrowed face down, hiding his eyes from the light while his skin absorbed the vibrant smell that came from it. To Steve it was the smell of a happy omega. He’d never once known an omega to be sour after a sun bath, especially not Buck. Bucky always smelled like peaches, the sun ripened him till he smelled like cobbler. It was addictive, Steve’s favorite smell on earth. 

He’d been watching for awhile now. Morning coffee in one hand, newspaper forgotten in the other. He watched Bucky build the nest, had offered to help but was politely ignored. Steve may have a tendency to go overboard with nests. When he’d been a skinny slip of a thing he’d committed himself to perfecting the art. It was the one alpha role he could fulfill and do truly well. He’d rent books from the library and spend hours memorizing the best techniques. It felt silly looking back but it had been one of the only providing roles he’s ever thought he could meet. Ultimately, it had been a good time investment if the nest in their bedroom was any indicator. Bucky had once joked the only thing it was missing was Steve going apeshit with a baddazler. 

A massive sigh came from the Bucky shaped lump on their living room floor. The kind that only comes from complete and utter contentment. Steve couldn’t resist anymore. He set his coffee and newspaper on the dining table, never looking away from the sundrenched spot. His footsteps didn’t seem to alert Bucky in the slightest, a trust built in the space of their life together. Their home provided them both safety, safety they needed after so much of their lives spent constantly in and out of war. It was nice to finally have a physical space to call home, even if that was Bucky’s title before the four plaster walls surrounding them. He carefully stepped into the nest, straddling the space over Bucky before folding down on top of him. 

Bucky jumped but settled as Steve’s nose burrowed into his neck. His skin was warm and sweet, Steve couldn’t help but get a few openmouthed kisses in so he could get a taste. Couldn’t ever get enough of Bucky, especially like this. Nearly liquid under him, Bucky’s purrs were gentle and sleepy. He worried his own rumbling would be too much, but he received no complaints as the sun warmed his back as his sun sweetened omega heated his front. It was blissful, he wished they could stay there, unmoving, for the rest of their natural lives. 

The shifting beneath him seemed like it would end that wish, but Bucky had simply turned onto his back, tucking his face into Steve’s neck and getting his fill of his beloved alpha’s scent. He’d told Steve once that he smelled like pines, he wondered if the sun changed that the way it did Bucky’s. Their joined scent, something sharp and fresh with a homely edge to soften it, flooded the space around them. The sun mellowed it into a hazy cloud. 

“Steve?”

“Mhm?”

“Are we still supposed to go to that charity event Tony is putting on?”

Well, that killed the mood a bit. He sighed, “Yes, we do.”

“How many rounds do you think we can get in before we have to be ready?”

The scents in the room suddenly turned deeper, mustier, Bucky shuddered beneath him. “Why don’t we find out, sugar?”

_____

The smell of sun didn’t leave. Even after fucking like they were dying, the vibrant smell lingered in unexpected places, most notably, Bucky’s hair. It made getting ready difficult on Bucky’s part. 

“Steve I swear to god-”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Get your nose out of my hair for five seconds so I can get shit put together!” Bucky hip checked him hard enough that Steve let up. Made puppy eyes at his mate’s back even as his very name was cursed to the heavens. The clacking of hangers across the rack followed him as he sat down on a chair by the closet, watched as Bucky tried to find them both outfits. 

“You know Buck, you don’t have to dress me. I’m fine doing it on my own.” If looks could kill Steve may have ended up with two knives in his ribs with the way Bucky was glaring. 

“Steve, there are a lot of things society expects out of me, most of which they can shove right up their asses, but I will not be the omega that lets his mate leave the house dressed like a doormat.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you dress yourself like a cardboard box, Steve.” 

“I’m wounded Buck, I really am.” The pout he put on was usually successful but rarely a trick he pulled. Something about the dinner had to be stressing his poor baby out if he was this snippy after most of the day in bed. 

Bucky sighed, running his fingers through his hair, still drying from the shower. “I’m sorry Stevie, it’s not your fault. There is a lot of press coverage at this event and I don’t want to give them ammunition against you.”

Oh, oh. Things were clicking now. The press had been a problem for a while now. Steve knew what Bucky meant but wasn’t saying. For some reason, a magazine company had started running slander campaigns against Bucky. In a way it was to be expected, Bucky wasn’t a traditionalist, and neither was Steve when it came down to it. They’d both dumped enough expectations for their roles in the garbage to be on equal ground but Bucky got the worst of it. Everything he did was picked apart. Most of it was laughable, but there were things that got to him, mainly those which targeted Steve. Bucky could handle more than anyone he’d ever met, but Steve had never seen him more devastated than the day four articles had come out about Steve wearing mismatched shoes. All the blame had been pinned to his poor omega. The gossip circles had labeled Bucky as neglectful. One of the few “omega specific” tasks he was known to partake in was dressing Steve. When they had been nothing more than two starving Brooklyn kids, Bucky had been determined to take care of Steve when his body shit out on him. One of the few things he’d let Bucky truly do was dress him. They had a rhythm, tops always went on first. Unless he was too weak to lift his arms Bucky would simply pass shirts, jackets, and coats for Steve to do himself. Most days Bucky only put his feet through the legs of his pants for him, letting Steve pull them up when he stood. There were plenty of times on the other hand, where Buck had needed to vault Steve into standing by his belt loops so they could get him up long enough to get his pants on. 

Steve knew all of this, very well in fact, but the media didn't. They hadn’t seen Bucky, eighteen with only a few dollars to his name, beaten and worn down. Hadn’t seen the exhaustion skittering across every nerve. Didn’t know that despite being dead on his feet, Bucky would always make sure Steve was taken care of first. No one deserved the level of disrespect going on, but Bucky shouldn’t have even been on the radar. The shoe mix up had been his own fault. Bucky had been sick, throwing up at even the slightest suggestion of light. He had gotten dressed in the dark and ran to the store, hadn’t even thought about what he might look like, laser focused on his task instead. Bucky needed medicine and Steve needed Bucky well. That was all he had thought at the time.

“Buck, we don’t have to go.”

Eyes fluttered to the side, Bucky wouldn’t look at him. “I want to go, and it wouldn’t be fair to Tony to leave him to the dogs like that.”

Steve nearly snorted, Tony wouldn’t notice them failing to pop in, and even if he did it wouldn’t be remembered the next morning. 

“Sweetheart,” He stood up, went and placed both his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky peaked at him from the corner of his eyes. “You don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable to make others comfortable. We can stay home, watch a movie, order some take-out.” 

Bucky looked over his shoulder at their closet. He held himself like he was expecting something to jump out at him, like a timer was set to go off any second to spell some horrible doom. Steve wanted to call it right then and there, force them to stay home, but Bucky would fight him on it and go out of spite. He cupped the side of his darling mate’s face and coaxed him into eye contact. Blue and grey met and blended, met and crashed, met and free fell backwards into each other. There was trust, so much trust. It bellied his own concerns, left him hovering there waiting for an answer. Bucky would make the choice he needed too, even if it wasn’t the one Steve would have made for him. From day one he had sworn to be an alpha Bucky could respect, one that he would be proud to stand by. Part of that was letting go in moments like this. He looked into those eyes, the ones that belonged to his heart, and sent a silent message. It’s your choice. Your call. I will follow you wherever you take me, us. It was intense even for such a simple choice, but that was always how it was between them. 

Bucky’s nose turned into his wrist, silent puffs of air sliding over his skin as Bucky drew in his scent. He closed his eyes for a few time-stopping seconds before those haunting grey eyes peaked beneath fluttering lashes. 

“...Let’s stay home.” A smile turned the corner of his lips, an expression Steve would never stop loving. “But I get to pick the movie. You’re still on a two week probation after making me watch Baby Driver.” 

Steve couldn’t resist dipping down, stealing a kiss across slightly chapped lips. The kiss stolen at the end of his love’s sentence was sweet. The traces of sunlight only made it sweeter.

[mymoodwriting]

Perfect Love

Bang Chan/Jisung, Bang Chan/Felix, Felix/Jisung

Genre: Yandere AU

Warning: Drugs, Voyeurism, Handjobs, Fluff

Words: 2.9K

Chapters:

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Epilogue

Prompt: When Jisung started dating Chan it was a lot of fun, but that’s all it was and he wanted more. It was a mutual break up, or at least he thought it was. He had no idea what Chan was capable of, that is until he finally went to his house, carried into it actually. A second chance at love is entirely out of his control, and he might not have been the first of Chan’s lovers to be in this position.

       Chan woke up when his alarm went off at seven am, just like every other day. He rolled over in bed and kissed Felix. The sunlight was peeking in through the window, the usual morning annoyance that helped him get out of bed. He didn’t worry about Felix waking up, he always gave him a proper dosage that would keep him out until at least at nine. Jisung was a bit different.

       He pulled up the blanket so Felix kept sleeping comfortably, going to brush his teeth and then heading down to the basement. The only sound he heard was heavy breathing, with one minor yell of discomfort. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he made his way over to the table. Jisung wasn’t fully conscious, his eyes more or less rolled back in his head, he twitched every few seconds.

       He turned off the machine and removed the electrodes. When he gently touched his temples the boy flinched. He untied him and carried him in his arms to his room, laying him down on the mattress. The boy was still shaking, clearly stuck in his own mind, in his own nightmares. Chan was curious as to what the boy was dreaming about, he knew what haunted Felix, but he wanted to know what haunted his newest ward.

       Jisung was wrapped up in a blanket, he seemed to gain a bit of consciousness, grabbing Chan. His grasp was very weak, but desperate. Chan pulled him close, caressing the back of his head, he could feel all the boys little quakes. It was rather adorable, he kissed his head and decided to take the chance to further comfort the boy.

 “I’m here Jisung, I’ve got you. Chan’s gonna take care of you, keep you safe.”

     The boy didn’t respond verbally to his whispered words, instead his grasp getting a little bit tighter, the shaking starting to settle down. Chan hummed, rocking the boy, he wasn’t going to wake up for a while longer but he would be letting him get some sleep now. He laid him down, despite his adorable attempts to maintain his hold on the older boy.

     Jisung was tucked in, he squirmed around for a bit but Chan hushed him and he calmed down, sleeping peacefully. Chan went upstairs to the kitchen, he was still a bit tired from cleaning but he had promised pancakes again and he was going to deliver. He really enjoyed the quiet of the early mornings just as much as he loved the sounds Jisung and Felix made around the house. He set the table along with some cookies and donuts from yesterday.

     Felix sleepily made his way to the kitchen later, he came up behind Chan and hugged him, nuzzling his back. Chan laughed and managed to turn himself around, wrapping his arms around Felix. He kissed his head, rocking him to the side, he was still a little sleepy.

 “Surprise to see you up already, I usually go wake you.”

 “I know… but I wanted to see Sungie.”

 “He’s not up yet, but he will be soon. Are you gonna help me take care of him today?”

 “Hm… it’s one of those days.”

 “Yes.”

 “Should I go-”

 “No Lix, I’ll go get him, can you finish setting up?”

 “Sure.”

 “Alright, and wake up.”

     He kissed Felix’s cheek then went downstairs to get Jisung. He was more relaxed, and very tired, it probably wasn’t gonna be easy to wake him. He waited a moment watching Jisung sleep before shaking him, the boy whined.

 “Sungie, wake up.” He sat the boy up. “It’s morning, rise and shine, I promised you pancakes again.”      

     Jisung smiled a bit at the mention of pancakes, holding his hands out so he could be picked up. Chan smiled a bit when he realized Jisung wasn’t all there and helped him up. The boy leaned heavily on him as they went upstairs, waving at Felix when he saw him. He sat down, looking up at Chan, eyes glued to him.

 “Who wants pancakes?”

 “Me!” Felix laughed. “Smells just as good as yesterday.”

 “Alright, medicine first.”

       Felix took his pill like always, Jisung happily opening his mouth this time around. Chan sat down next to Jisung, cutting up his food and feeding him. He was very happy, leaning against the other and snuggling up to him.

 “Considering what we did yesterday, why don’t you two help me in the garden and then we can have a lazy day.”

 “Oh, Netflix and Chill?”

 Chan laughed. “That’d hardly be fair for Sungie right now, but we can find something to binge on Netflix though, anything you want.”

 “Awesome.”

       Jisung was very giggly, happy to be fed like a child, ignoring the conversation the other two were having. After breakfast he was sat on the countertop as Felix did the dishes, waiting patiently. When they headed to the garden he turned his face to the sun and shut his eyes. Chan watched him, giving him a little kiss, making the other blush.

 “You really like the morning huh?”

 “I like the sunlight… it feels warm… and I have you…”

 “Yeah you do.” He ruffled his hair. “Come on, I’ll show you how to harvest some herbs and veggies.”

       Jisung couldn’t really help, physical functions mostly numbed out, but he watched, doing his best to learn, Felix also explaining somethings too. They ended up staying outside for a while, laying in the yard under some shade, Jisung laying on Chan’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, dozing off again.

       Chan got up when he felt his phone vibrate, seeing that he had some messages from Changbin. Felix also seemed somewhat asleep, so he quietly got up and went inside. It was nothing serious, just asking for details to their meeting later in the week. He stared out at the other two sleeping, smile growing on his face, then he went to wake them.

 “Get up you lazy boys, before you get a sunburn.”

 “No…” Felix pouted.

 “No?”

 “Carry me.”

       Felix held his arms out. Chan giggled but he caved and picked Felix up, carrying him inside, telling him to pick something to watch. He then went out to grab Jisung, he didn’t fully wake up, but held on as tight as he could. The TV was already playing when he settled on the couch, nudging Jisung to wake up, he paid as much attention as he could.

       Chan eventually left the two watching TV so he could make dinner, calling them over when he was done. Felix helped the other boy, who was still pretty drowsy, clearly in and out of sleep, to the table. Jisung was happily fed like before and since it was a lazy day they had ice cream for dessert. They agreed to watch another movie although Felix was quick to doze off, leaning against Chan, Jisung comfy in the older’s lap.

 “Messy.”

     Chan scolded in a fond tone, leaning in to kiss Jisung’s lips that had been covered in ice cream. His eyes never left Jisung, enjoying how peaceful the boy looked in his arms. Jisung looked so small like this, all curled up in the pajamas from last night that swallowed him.

     Chan stroked over Jisung’s hair, petting the blissed out boy that was cuddled up to him. He was making small noises of content as Chan continued to run his fingers through his hair. Jisung nuzzled into the crook of Chan’s neck, squirming into a more comfortable position. The older chuckled at how sweet the boy was being.

     Jisung squirmed some more, winding up in a position where Chan’s thigh was nudged up between his legs. He mindlessly shifted his weight, starting to rut against Chan, a pretty sigh falling from his lips. He didn’t really care about anything apart from how nice it felt.

 “Sweetheart, you’re too out of it for that.” Chan tutted at Jisung, running his hand through the boy’s hair.

     Jisung was blissfully unaware to most of their surroundings. It was easy to tell the boy was having a hard time concentrating. A long drawn out whine left Jisung as Chan tried to still his hips. He knew it had been ages since the boy had last gotten off, but he didn’t want to touch him like this, no matter how pretty he sounded begging for Chan’s touch.

     Any other time Chan would be thrilled to make the younger feel good, but not when the boy was so high that he wouldn’t even be able to truly feel the pleasure properly; Or fully comprehend where it was coming from. Chan wanted Jisung to be fully aware that Chan was the one who was making him feel good, wanted to see the boy react to him. In Jisung’s current state that wouldn’t be the situation.

 “That’s not fair.” Jisung whined, words slightly slurred.

     He looked up at Chan tearfully with a pout as if that would change his mind. It was cute. Jisung began to struggle against Chan’s grip when he realized the man wasn’t going to give him what he craved.

 “Do you not want to touch me?” Jisung asked, sounding miserable enough that it made Chan’s heart clench.

 “Of course I do, Sungie, but we can’t do that right now.” Jisung let out a sad sigh, his body sagging against Chan’s in defeat. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

     Jisung didn’t say anything, allowing Chan to carry him to the bathroom. The bubbles and bath bomb Chan had pulled out caught his eye but he ignored it, still pouting.

 “Arms up.” Chan said, pulling up the hem of Jisung’s shirt.

     He let his fingers tickle over the younger’s exposed stomach, happy at the squeal he pulled from the younger. Jisung’s cock was still hard, leaking precome by the time Chan had pulled the boy’s boxer briefs down.

 “Hurts.” Jisung pouted with a soft mewl.

     It made Chan wonder if this was the longest that Jisung had went without an orgasm.

 “That’s not good, angel. Maybe a bath will help, huh? You can fix it in the bath.”

     Jisung bit his lip nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

 “Will you bathe with me?” Jisung asked timidly.

 “Promise to be good?”

 Jisung nodded softly. “The best.”

     He smiled sinking into the bubbles waiting for Chan. He was glad that the bath was big enough for them both.

 “No, no, let’s get you clean first.” Chan said, stopping Jisung’s hand from bringing himself pleasure.

     Jisung huffed in impatience but let out another desperate sound when Chan started to massage body wash onto his skin. Jisung scooped up some of the bubbles, putting them on top of Chan’s head with a small laugh.

 “You’re so silly.” Chan murmured, letting his hands trail over Jisung’s skin as he rinsed off the floral citrus scented wash before he moved on to washing the boy’s hair.

     After he had thoroughly rinsed Jisung’s hair of shampoo and conditioner he let his hands travel back down the boy’s skin, amused at the small shiver that ran through Jisung from his touch. Jisung began to squirm even more.

 “Can I touch now?” He begged, waiting for Chan’s permission.

 “Since you’ve been so good you can. Go ahead, baby.”

     Jisung sighed happily, sinking down into the water some, peeking up at Chan who was in front of him on the opposite end of the tub. He slowly took himself in his grasp, relishing in how nice it felt to finally touch his aching member. The pace he started out with was slow, gasping as his thumb teased over the head of his cock when he stroked upwards. It was different having someone watch him while he touched himself and it left him feeling more desperate as he watched Chan’s darkened gaze that never left him.

 “You sound so pretty, baby. Does it feel good?” Jisung nodded softly, bucking up into his own fist with a loud whine. “Faster, sweetheart, you’ve teased yourself enough.”

     Jisung didn’t hesitate to quicken his pace, not even realizing how easily he followed Chan’s command. Crying out at how overwhelming it felt after not having been touched in so long.

 “Good boy.” Jisung trembled at the praise, looking back up at Chan desperately.

 “Can’t hold it anymore.” Jisung whined and Chan scoffed in mock offense.

 “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Good boys wait until they have permission.”

     Jisung was panting, his hand reaching out for Chan’s as he fought the urge to come before Chan wanted him to.

 “Please?” he begged, squeezing on to Chan’s hand tighter.

 “Come for me, angel.” Chan ordered, biting his lip as he watched Jisung writhe in pleasure.

     The boy’s hips jerking up as he came. Jisung was panting heavily, a blush adorning his cheeks causing Chan to coo at him. He sank back into the water, his limbs feeling heavy.

 “You did so good.” He praised, leaning in to kiss Jisung on the cheek before moving to kiss him on the lips.

     Jisung eyes were heavy, almost completely shut. He was too tired to pay much more attention to what was going on. Chan had wrapped him in a fluffy towel, carrying him back to his room to get the boy dressed. After he was in fresh pajamas Chan went down to grab a sleeping Felix from the couch, gently waking him and taking him upstairs.

 “Is Jisung sleeping with us?” Felix sleepily asked when he saw the other laying in bed.

 “Since you were both good today, and it was fun, it’s only fair to end the day on a good note.”

 “Sungie!”

       Felix made grabby hands for the other as he was put in bed. Chan giggled, happy that the two got along so well. He grabbed the pouch of syringes from the dresser, setting it down and then taking Felix to give him a quick bath. Afterwards he helped him into comfy pajamas, giving both boys their medicine and tucking them in.

       He made his way downstairs, turning the TV off and cleaning up, he never liked leaving things to be done later. As he was putting away the dishes his eyes lingered on the medicine cabinet. He was tempted to check Jisung’s phone, but ultimately decided against it. When he was done he went up to sleep, gently sliding Felix away from Jisung and plopping down between them. It wasn’t long before the little ones were snuggling against him for the night.

 ♥♥♥♥♥

 “Jeongin, I need a favor.”

       Chan had his little gang over around lunchtime later that week, a platter of sandwiches set in the middle of the table. The other two boys were over in the living room playing some games. Jisung was more awake that day, but just as well behaved as before.

 “What’s up?”

 “I want you to look up any and all records you can on Han Jisung.”

 “Stalkery don’t you think.”

 “You didn’t question when I asked you to do that for Felix.”

 “That was a different situation.” Changbin mentioned.

 “Well let’s find out how different.”

 “Don’t fight ladies.” Jeongin teased. “Let me see what I can find.”

       Jeongin put his full focus on his laptop, typing away, keeping quiet. The other two discussed upcoming festivities and possible profits they could make, as well as refills clients needed. Chan made most things, the recipes were all his after all, but Changbin had the luxury of knowing as well and helping in the process of making and selling.

 “Interesting…” Jeongin mumbled.

 “What?”

 “He’s got no criminal record.”

 “No shit.” Chan scoffed. “Boy couldn’t hurt a fly.”

 “Not in the state you keep him.” Changbin commented.

 “Did you find anything?”

 “Nothing really interesting, he was a good school boy, good credit score too.”

 “Jeongin.”

 “Sorry, the only thing of note is his medical record. Besides keeping up with his vaccines and checkups, there’s a record of a time he was rushed into the ER, comes with a police report.”

 “Let me see.”

       Chan pulled the laptop over, looking at the report. He reread it a few times.

 “His record seems much cleaner than Felix’s.” Changbin said. “Is that what you were looking for?”

 “Yes actually, it’s exactly what I needed.”

 “Cool, so when are you throwing another party?”

“Excuse me?”

 “What? A lot of my people have been asking, your parties are some of the best.”

 “I know but… not until I can trust Jisung to behave in that environment. I don’t want to lock him up all night.”

 “Fair. What about you, Jeongin?”

 “Me? I don’t throw parties.”

 “I meant what’s new with you, heard you found a roommate. Seungmin, right? Does he know what you do part-time?”

 “Does he know I manage your finances in the drug dealing business? Yes, well vaguely, didn’t give him too many details.”

 “And the other stuff?”

 “That I can make all his legal documents say he’s a girl if he rubs me the wrong way? Yes. That threat goes for all of you too if you decide to fuck me over some day.”

 “We’d never do that.” Chan finished emailing himself the documents then handed over the laptop. “You’re a very valuable member of this team.”

 “I better be, I’d hate to lose this friendship.”

 “You mean Chan’s stuff.” Changbin teased.

 “That’s part of the friendship, so sure.”

       They broke out laughing, finishing up their little meeting. When they did Felix stole away Changbin for some games. Jeongin on the other hand had to get going, work calling, although he took some party favors before leaving, promising to introduce Seungmin to them when Chan had a party. Chan felt everything was going well, but he was getting a little too comfortable a little too soon.

[angstymdzsthoughts]

Ignorance is a bliss

Imagine if “come to gusu with me” ends up with wwx passed out of exhaustion before he could reject the offer. Lwj did brought him to gusu and under the jurisdiction of the elders, after wwx is nursed back to health, his demonic cultivation must be sealed and he must received say maybe 15 lashes as punishment for straying off the righteous path before were sent to seclusion with lwj so that wwx will finally be ‘cleansed’. Wwx wasnt happy ofc but what he could do with his powers are sealed away? Now , 5 strokes of discipline whip may cause a cultivator bedridden for months, how about to a non cultivator ? It must affect them severely so that is why discipline whip can never be used to a non cultivator. Lwj was forced to a house arrest guarded by three disciples due to him trying to (forcefully) persuade the elders to not hurt wwx. Lwj never thought that the elders were so hell bent on punishing wwx , where he promised wwx that gusu will be his safe haven (oh lwj, ignorance is a bliss).

The elders of Lan assumed that wwx’s core is still intact but maybe diminished due to demotic cultivation. So they still proceeded with the punishment. But halfway through the session, wwx lose consciousness and healers were called to heal him so that they could finish the punishment.However, upon trying to heal him , the healers discovered that wwx does not have a golden core. Lxc was horrified and ultimately barked an order to bring wwx to the sect’s infirmary to put him to rest. Glaring at lqr and the elders , he told them if wwx did not survive the ordeal , they would have become a murderer.

Lwj was devastated on the state wwx in. Wwx had a bad fever due to infection despite how hard the healers were trying to use medication. Bandages were changed thrice a day to ensure the infection does not spread to other parts of body. Wwx never gained consciousness for 3 months. He was delirious in fever as his health rapidly declining over the days. Healers concluded that wwx may not he able to perform his daily routine without help as the whip has cause major backlash on his physical and mental health.

After a discussion, the lans decided to finally informed the jiang sects of the situation wwx was in. JC was on his way when wwx woke up. Wwx was in confusion and struggling to get out of his bed. Lxc and lwj had to restrain him to ensure he doesn’t hurt himself. The last thing wwx remembered that his back and legs were excruciating painful and people in white robes are the cause of it.Paranoia settles in him causing wwx to be on alert every second and never utter a single word after waking up, not even to lwj. For wwx, lwj has brought him to gusu because he hated wwx so much that he let those people hurt him. He was betrayed.

Although he was reluctant at first, he forced himself to eat to regained his strength and escape this hell. When the jc arrives at gusu with a group of disciples , lxc and the elders met them at the entrance leaving lwj and wwx alone at the room. Wwx for the first time spoke to lwj, requesting for a new change of robe. “I just dont want anyone to see me in this dirty robe” . Lwj acquiesced.

When lwj came back with new set of fresh robes and a basin of hot water , wwx was gone. Due to the envoy from Jiang sect , the entrance was not guarded as usual and wwx miraculously managed to flee gusu. Wwx put his guard up even he has successfully escape and ran to the most secluded part of Caiyi town. After resting for few hours and after the adrenaline was gone ,wwx realised that he was severely injured and crippled. His left leg cannot be bend without causing painful jolt like feeling. Him running all the way from gusu to caiyi with a bleeding back and hurting leg was indeed a miracle. Now , if walking was painful , then running was courting death. With careful planning using his survival skills and experience , wwx continues his painstaking slow journey and enters a forest , opposite direction of gusu and lotus pier. Wwx was last seen by a fruit vendor of Caiyi Town ; limping away without a trace.

Lwj without a doubt used an inquiry to find wwx , but wwx was an ambitious lad. Wwx somehow managed to create a talisman that can hide his presence even to spirits. Jc has issued posters all over the place , in hopes that someone might give an intel for him to find his brother but to no avail , no one has a clue of where wwx has been gone to. Wwx - like a ghost , has disappeared . JYL and JXZ was also at deeps end, unable to trace her missing brother. Other major sects also keep an eye for wwx, though the Lan clan has claimed that wwx’s demonic cultivation was sealed and was severly injured, who knows what can that young man do ?

Timeskip to 13 years later, JL LJY and LSZ (assuming that the siege never happened, but lwj adopted a-yuan as per requested by wq and wn to ensure he was raised at a proper & healthy background and the wen remnants survived and disperse for safety) was attacked at goddess temple only to be saved by a mystery crippled guy with mask (JL: a non cultivator nonetheless!) (LJY: what an amazing talent ! Only using talisman to beat the statue!). The teenagers were awestruck with the masked man’s skill, that they wanted to thanked him with a meal and few drinks but was rejected and the man leaves.

JL who never accepts no for an answers suggest to secretly follows the man so that they can send drinks or some offering for him to his house instead. Ljy and Lsz tagged along as they were curious of their saviour after all. A non cultivator cannot detect presence like a cultivator do, so the man was unaware that he was tailed. Upon arriving an old shack with a small potato farm , the man limped and sat with a grunt. Taking off his mask , he took a bottle of water and consumed a few concoction of medicine before coughing. The teenagers was surprised on the living condition of their saviour. JL however upon seeing the face of the man, went wide eyes.

“That man, he was in the poster my jiujiu used to issue around LP . My A-niang talks about him a lot,” looking over his other two confused companions. “I can never forget that face. The face that always make my mother cry upon looking at his picture and frown at his name. He is my missing big uncle , Wei Wuxian of Jiang Sect.”

“Ah i heard about him. Apparently our Elders punished him until he was missing his golden core , i think? Or is it the other way around?” Ljy spoke. “But i think the limping was the consequences from our Sects’ punishment. That time , Lan sect and Jiang Sect almost broke the treaty. I heard Madame Jiang managed to convinced your uncle to stop”.

They saw the man plowing a part of his potato field ,who occasionally stopped due to his heavy cough and resume his work. “Wwx , he is the person my father has been looking for the past 13 years. I need to let him know” Lsz finally spoke, smiling.

“Oh my potatoes , I hope you grew up fat and yummy for this master over here! I need more money , or i wont be able to buy medicine. You dont want me to die yet are you~” sang wwx. The 3 looked at each other and finally decides to leave for their respective inn, bringing a joyous news for their leaders.

Next day, both JC and lwj accompanied by the 3 went to wwx’s house. Both heartbroken on the state of the old shack . Knocking the wooden door and clearly listening on the voice mumbling from inside “who the hell would come here early in the morning at middle of a forest”, jc and lwj was shocked on the physical appearance of their missing person. Sunken cheeks and dark eyes as indication of fatigue , limping , voice hoarse from sickness and the obvious whipping scars marring from behind his neck to under the ragged clothes , jc couldnt help but to greet wwx with a hug , holding him so gentle in fear that wwx would break with the slightest of strength. Wwx frozen in shock couldnt hug back but made eye contact with lwj. “Weiying, please forgive me that I couldn’t protect you. I am very sorry.” After 13 years of internal pain and agony , wwx for the first time shed his tears . “I forgive you , so you all should leave me alone. I am a burden. Im no longer a cultivator , but a crippled man with not much time to left. I am nothing but a burden. Please” sobbed wwx.

“Idiot. Give us a chance to take care of you. A-jie misses you so much, every day and night. You haven’t met your nephew , Jing Ling . Don’t you want to eat her soup? And about your health, i can call WenQing to help you. She is still the best doctor alive. Come back with us , okay ? And no one will hurt you. “ jc.

Wwx was shocked to hear wq was still alive and her name was spoken by jc without an ounce of hatred. What have been happening for the past few years he have been isolating himself ? With shaking hands , he grabbed jc’s robe and nodded. He made another eye contact with lwj and could see how sincere he is from his eyes. Maybe , all this time , the fact that lwj hates me and sending me to my demise was all a misunderstanding?

“I am no more a cultivator.”

“It’s fine , WeiYing”

“I cannot contribute to Jiang sect anymore.”

“Who cares about that, idiot?”

“I’m going to be a burden !!! I cant even walk properly. My health is deteriorating”

“WeiYing, if tired , I can carry. Let me take care of you when sick”

“Lan Zhan, i dont want to go to gusu”

“We can go anywhere other than Gusu.”

“I wont let you take a single step to that damn place , no offence Second Young master Lan”

“None taken.”

———

(Alternate ending)

Wwx was still unconscious and attacked by a high fever due to infection in his wound. Numerous method has been used to mitigate the after effect of the whip , but to no avail. Infection starts to spread to his legs, and wwx was delirious and moaning in his sleep due to pain. The severity of the wound caused both of his legs to sepsis and the healers has no other way than to amputate the legs to make sure that the infection will not spread internally.

After the surgery of removing wwx’s legs , the infection are able to be minimised but still needs to be monitored. Still, wwx has no signs of waking up. Lwj was loyal to his side , taking care of changing the bandages . Every night , lwj had a nightmare of the reaction of wwx waking up with no legs . One particular nightmare that haunts him the most is weiying took out his own life out of despair. Lwj couldnt sleep for two nights watching over wwx after that nightmare occurs.

After 6 days, lqr visited the room and berates lwj for neglecting his duty as a student of Lan sect. Lwj angrily talks back, and was taken to kneel in the hall for one day. When he came back , no one was watching wwx. He came back with pure silence from wwx .Where there should a ragged breathing from wwx , it was only silence. Wwx’s usually pale lips was ashen. Bandaged chest that should be heaving was still. Wwx finally succumbed to his injuries after 11 days of fighting and lwj (again) was not by his side. His sect (again) are the cause of pain for his beloved ones and has taken everything from him.

—-

Wow took this one hour and a half. This is my second time posting here. 😋 enjoy?

-b

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 171

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle have an amorous morning after a very amorous night only to receive a scolding from Luke and a worried phone call from Sarah. Smut to start the chapter. 

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Tom clenched his teeth together, trying to stave off his orgasm just a little longer, but he failed. Danielle's body just felt too good around his and a moment later, his hot breath panting against her neck and shoulder, he groaned gutturally as he filled her, his hips stilling as his body begged to be as deep-seated in her as possible. He wanted to relax after his exertion but all he could think of was Danielle not getting to feel as he had, so he gently pulled himself out of her and brought his hand to her now seed-filled core, his fingers quickly continuing what he had startled.

He focused not only on her pleasure but on her face, the blissful look as she bit her lower lip and arched her back as she came closer to her peak. When she began to shudder slightly, he intensified his efforts, her fingers gripping his arm as she gasped.

“Come on, Darling.” He encouraged. “I can see you're nearly there.”

“Tom.” Her voice was almost pleading. When he stroked her expertly, long having learnt her more sensitive spots, she clenched her eyes shut, her bottom lip at risk of being punctured and fell over the edge of her pleasure. He continued his ministration into she pulled him to her, kissing him passionately as she panted slightly. “I fucking love you.” She smiled.

Tom chuckled against her lips. “I fucking love you too.” he pulled back slightly and lay to the side, rubbing his hand not covered in their combined releases through his hair. “Twice in less than twelve hours, not bad for a man my age.”

Danielle laughed in response. “Because you're practically geriatric, aren't you?” She groaned slightly. “I don't know what hurts more, my muscles from that it or my head.”

Tom had to agree. “Why did you allow me to drink so much?”

“You're a fully grown man, I'm not going to dictate what you can and can't do. Have some personal accountability. Besides, I was in no fit state to tell you what to do, I was fairly drunk too.” She rubbed her temples. “How angry is Luke?” She asked worriedly.

Tom checked his phone, sure enough, there was a message, or several, from Luke. He scanned through them. “I've made him madder in the past. Long story short, we're bold and he's not paid enough to deal with me.”

Danielle turned over and got comfortable again. “I've maintained that since the beginning.”

“He asked what size jeans are you, he will have some clothes sent over for us so we don't embarrass ourselves wearing our clothes from last night.”

“Can't we just get a cab from the back entrance?” Danielle suggested. “I can't believe we ended up getting a room in the hotel, I mean really; we live about four miles from here. You and whiskey are a terrible combination.”

Tom laughed, thinking of his amorous attention to her the night before. “Not helped in any manner by your choice of dress, or underwear, or the fact you were giving me that look all night.”

“And what look are your referring to, dare I ask?” Danielle scoffed.

“The ‘I’d rather see you without that suit on’, look.”

“Do you think that's what I was thinking? What makes you so sure? What's not to say I wasn't thinking 'Why is he wearing that ugly fucking suit, I can't believe I am being embarrassed like this’?” she asked with a grin.

“Because I know that look when you find me sexy.” He leant over her again, kissing her. “You know you found me sexy. And I know you did because you were staring at my ass and when you started on the whiskey, your hand was on it as much as mine were in yours.”

Danielle could only concede it was true. “We were worse than two horny teenagers.” She recalled Luke pulling Tom aside and all but throwing a keycard at him. A moment later, a pleased-looking Tom went to retrieve her and with the quickest of goodbyes to Luke, who was partially ushering them out the door of the function room the party was being hosted in, and they headed to the room they were now in the same building, having had fun the night before, somewhat tipsy to drunk, neither truly thinking of anything bar the fact they were both feeling incredibly amorous, and again not ten minutes ago. “I may regret nothing.” She leant up and kissed him again. “Tom…”

“I am not able that quickly, sadly.”

Danielle huffed a small laugh. “Actually, I was going to ask you if Luke got a deal with breakfast too or are we going to have to pay extra for that.” Tom laughed into her lips. “I am starving.”

“Full English?”

“Extra toast. And tea, loads of tea.”

“I will order that, you get a shower.” Tom kissed her again, only this time, nipping her lower lip slightly as he did.

“Am I that bad?”

“No, I just do not want to be stuck trying to force myself from this bed. Check-out is twelve and it is getting close to ten, so if we don’t get going soon, we’ll have no breakfast, be annoying the staff and at more risk of being seen.”

Danielle sighed. “Sadly, that is true. Hopefully, my food will be here when I get out. I have money in my purse, tip the waiter or waitress that brings our food.”

Tom nodded, grateful that she had brought her purse because the cab driver would need to be paid too. He watched her go into the bathroom, very much focusing on her naked ass as she went and thanking whatever grace had given him the woman he loved so much before he looked at his phone again and apologised to Luke once more for the night before and thanked him for his idea, stating playfully that at least it was his fiancée, and not some random fling, something Luke always feared would get his clients, male and female, bad reputations. Tom chuckled at the “small mercies” reply Luke gave him.

He called for room service and gave their orders, and waited for it, grateful that though they had been liberal with their drinking the night before, they had not gone too far. His head was slightly hazy and his stomach was somewhat off, but he had been through far worse. He knew of more than one occasion where the idea of intimacy the next morning was not even remotely possible, then again, he never felt as he did with Danielle. No other woman had him think of the distant future with them like this, marriage, family, all of that, he had thought of it, but not with the anxious excitement of what would come like Danielle did. The idea of marrying her being a mere six months away, it excited him no end. Six months seemed like nothing. The six months since he had asked her had flown by, now they were halfway through the year they had decided to hold the engagement for and he could not wait.

The beep of his phone made him think Luke had something more to say, so he checked the screen. He could only see a few words and frowned before unlocking it and ringing his sister back. “Sarah?”

“Is Danielle there?”

“What’s going on?”

“Is Danielle there?” His older sister repeated.

“She’s in the shower, what happened?”

“Mum fell and hurt her wrist, I am trying to tell her she needs to go to the hospital to get it checked, but she’s ignoring me. She did it last night and I swear, Tom, it’s swollen and purple now and I really think she needs to go and she is being stubborn. I sent a picture to Elle to see what she would say but she didn’t reply.”

“She’ll be another minute or so. The shower is off now.”

“Fuck me!” Came an exclamation from the bathroom.

“I think she got your picture.” Tom looked around to notice that indeed, Danielle’s phone was missing. She exited the bathroom with a haphazardly strewn towel over herself. “Yep, she saw it.”

“Is that Sarah?” Danielle did not even wait for Tom to do anything more than a nod, she grabbed the phone off him and placed it to her ear. “Sarah, she needs to get to the hospital now.”

“I said that.”

“Tell her if she doesn’t go willingly, I will ring the damn ambulance myself and I swear, I will delay this wedding a year minimum if she argues.”

Tom leant back slightly, startled by the ferocity in his fiancée’s voice, but also worried about her threat to his mother. “Hey!”

She put her hand over the microphone. “We’d get married secretly elsewhere without her knowing, we just wouldn’t have the big day.” She promised.

Satisfied, Tom nodded slightly. “She’s serious, Sarah.” He called out.

“Now, Mum. Did you hear that? Danielle will hold a wedding strike…..she’s getting her coat.”

“Good, we need a few hours before we can head. We were drinking last night. Once it is safe for us to get on the road, we’ll head your way. Get her to keep her hand straight and don’t let her have any meds.”

“Is it bad?” Sarah asked worriedly.

“I don’t know, I don’t have an x-ray or a degree in medicine but when I worked the ambulance, that would definitely be a potential fracture, if not a very nasty break.”

“Mum, only you could do this, I swear. Yakov, Mum broke her wrist.” There was silence for a moment before Sarah spoke again, but it was clear she was not speaking into the phone. “Yeah, well Danielle thinks she could have and I trust her more than Google, so…we are going. We’ll be back later….I don’t know, they will be here tonight apparently.” Her voice came through the receiver side of the phone again clearly. “We’ll keep you posted. Let us know when you are on the road.”

“We will.” Danielle promised. A moment later, there was a knock on the floor. She handed the phone to Tom who rushed to the bathroom and put on her dress quickly from the night before, hoping the room was not too obvious as to their going’s on not too long ago. She gave the waitress a ten-pound tip and a polite smile, taking the tray off her at the door and thanking her, closing the door swiftly after.

She placed the tray on the bed and organised everything. A few minutes later, a slightly peaky looking Tom came out of the bathroom. “I am not going to be able to drive today. I am too old for this.”

Danielle handed him a mug of coffee, which he took immediately. “I think it will be at least six before I can trust myself behind a wheel, I’ll eat, hydrate and allow what alcohol is in my system to start processing, then I’ll see. We’ll see how things go. You’re Mam is going to be there ‘til late, so we will keep an eye on things. If it is broken, she’s in overnight.” She indicated to the food. “Eat up, we forgot the dogs haven’t been out the bathroom or anything.”

Fear filled Tom as he realised she was right. He walked over and began to eat, hoping the dogs would be able to hold it. “Cab?”

“When we are ready to go, they’ll have one in seconds in this part of town.” Danielle urged.

[mermaidxatxheart]

It’s Always You {1}

Ok. Chapter One is finally here. I hope you enjoy it. Yes, I posted a sneak peek a couple weeks ago. This has since been updated, revised and is extended.  Thank you so so so so so much to @everythingisoverrated​ for putting up with my insanity on this one. I made the mood board myself specifically for this story. If you want to be added or removed, send me an ask.

Pairing: Bucky X OFC

Word Count: 1964

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, angst, trauma, car accident. Sarcasm like you’ve never seen. Oh boy.

Summary: Ava has been in a car accident. When she wakes up, she’s surprised to find Captain America waiting for her. Will she be able to help him find the answers they’re both looking for? 

Series Master List

The last thing I remember is the set of headlights coming directly at the left side of my car. The screeching of metal twisting, the hollow popping as the door panels crack and the shattering of glass are the last noises I hear. 

 Silence.

 Blissful. 

 Pain-free.

 Silence. 

 The next sound I become slowly aware of is a quiet beeping. A steady, even rhythm. 

It almost lulls me back to sleep. But then I’m aware that something isn’t right. I try to roll over but my whole body is immobilized, held down, and I begin to panic. That quiet beeping becomes frantic, picks up speed. I can’t breathe. Something is blocking my airway, something hard forced down my throat. 

 “She’s awake!” A voice yells and there’s more noise. People talking over people, hands touching me, and my panic ratchets up another notch. 

 The hard plastic something is pulled out of my throat, leaving it burning and raw, but at least I can breathe. I gasp for air and my throat feels like it’s on fire.

 “If you can hear me, you need to calm down. You’re safe, you’re in a hospital.” A voice says gently, a hand pressing on my shoulder.

 I struggle to open my eyes, but for the first time I realize I can’t, they’re being held shut. 

 I try to lift my arms but they feel like dead weight and won’t move.

 “Easy, now. Just relax.” The voice says again and I feel fingers against my eyes, but there’s a gap in the sensation. It takes me a long minute to realize that it’s because I can’t feel all of the fingertip. 

 Something like tape is pulled off my eye and I wince as pain flares. But now I can open my eyes. One only opens a little, it’s mostly swollen shut.

 “Your eye kept popping open, it was unnerving some of the staff.” The voice says again, gentle and feminine. 

 I try to turn my head to look at her, but my neck won’t twist. “What happened to me?” I croak. My voice is scratchy and rough, and speaking even that much hurts like a bitch. 

 “Don’t try to move. You’re very lucky to be alive. Can you tell me what you remember?” She asks, stepping into my view. She’s very pretty, a dark-skinned beauty with obvious Western Asian features and a British accent. 

 “I…” I try to think back before waking up, but it’s just a big black void. Faces appear, my parents, my sisters, people I used to know, my boyfriend. “I was talking to my boyfriend... on the phone, I think.” I start, my good eye drifting down over my body. 

 It looks like the entire thing is in a cast. My legs are elevated, the left one in a complicated looking brace and the right one in red plaster. My arms are suspended in front of me, needles stuck along the fingers and thick bandages wrapped from my palms up to the middle of my forearms. My right arm is in a cast up to the middle of my bicep and I can feel the massive bandage over my right shoulder.

 “And what were you doing at the time?” The doctor asks. Her face is kind and I want to answer, but thinking back that far hurts my head. 

 “I don’t remember.” I close my eyes, trying to calm down. 

 “That’s alright. Maybe with a little rest, it will come back to you. Can you tell me your name?”

 “Ava. Ava Fonesca.”

 “That’s really good. I’m Doctor Haskin. If you need anything or have any questions for me, you can always have a nurse page me.”

 “Can’t you tell me what’s the matter with me?” I ask.

 She glances towards the door for a moment. “Someone is here to see you. We can discuss your injuries later after you’ve had more time to heal.” She says, stepping outside.

 I nearly choke at seeing the man who enters the room. He’s tall, he’s blond and those baby blue eyes seem to look right through me. They roamed over my injuries at first, only a natural instinct.

 Captain America.

 “Hi,” He says once his eyes meet mine.

 “Hi,” I reply, feeling ridiculous. I should have a better comeback.

 “Do you know who I am?” He asks.

 “Don’t tell me you have amnesia, too. The whole world will fall apart if Captain Steve Rogers can’t remember who he is.” I reply, my jaw aches so I’m careful to keep it mostly shut.

 He grins. “Finally, a sense of humor I can get along with.”

 “You get along with everybody.” A female voice says as a woman comes into the room. She has red hair, bright green eyes, and a petite figure.  

 Wanda Maximoff.

 “Don’t let him lie to you like that.” She says with a friendly smile at me. 

 I don’t respond, mostly because I’m trying to keep my panic under control.

 “How are you feeling?” Steve asks.

 “Like an elephant is sitting on my chest,” I admit.

 He gives a small chuckle. “I’ve been there. It will go away.” He stalls for a minute and I can tell the small talk is over.

 “What are you doing here?” I ask.

 “Direct, to the point. I like her.” Wanda says, turning a little to Steve. 

 “We need to talk about what happened to you.” 

 “I don’t know anything,” I answer honestly.

 “Okay. So, let’s talk about what you do know.” He pulls a chair close to the side of my bed.

 “Literally nothing. Don’t tell me you’re going deaf already.”

 He chuckles. “I’m sure that’s not true. You must know some stuff. You’re one of the best biochemists in the world, from what I hear.” He smiles and I have to try hard to resist rolling my eyes.

 “Well, sure, I know stuff. But you’re not referring to what I know like that. You want to know what got me here and honestly, I have no idea.”

 Wanda snorts in a very unladylike way behind Steve. My eyes slide to her. Does she not believe me?

 “Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “So, do you remember going to work?”

 I close my eyes, trying to focus. “I remember a conversation.” I want to rub my face. It’s frustrating to not have the mobility I should.

 “With who? With your boyfriend?” Steve asks. 

 “No, with... with a friend. I think I sent him something.” I frown. 

 “Was this friend Michael Chambers?” Steve asks gently.

 I try to nod, but can’t. “Yes. We went to Harvard together.” It dawns on me that I never said Michael’s name. “How did you know it was him?” I ask, my eye one good eye trained on Steve.

 “He was found dead in his apartment two weeks ago. The same night you had your accident.”

 Everything in me stops cold. The beeping next me flatlines for a minute before it picks up double time.

 “Huh, I didn’t think that actually happens.” Wanda comments. Steve shushes her.

 “Dead? How?” I ask, my face going numb.

 “Self-inflicted gunshot wound.” He says it gently, like it will hurt less if he gives me those big blue puppy dog eyes.

 This takes me a long time to comprehend. I can’t even picture what he’s telling me. A world where Michael isn’t alive doesn’t make sense. “He killed himself?” I say finally. 

 “I’m sorry.”

 “That’s... that’s not right.” I say, a cloud fogging up my mind. 

 “Suicide is never easy to process,” Steve starts. 

 “No, that’s... he was...” The taste of metal fills my mouth and pain flares on my tongue. “N-no-”

 “Ava? What’s wrong?” Wanda asks, reaching a hand towards me.

 My whole body goes rigid, locking everything into place, and then it’s like my nerves spark and explode. Everything on my bed and my body start shaking at once as my body tries to start convulsing. 

 Thankfully, I don’t feel anything after that as the darkness comes for me again.

 Steve

 “What do you mean you don’t know when she’s going to wake up?” I snap at Doctor Haskin. I’m aware that it’s not her fault, but I need to yell at someone.

 “Brain injuries are complicated. Honestly, we were surprised she even woke up the first time. With that many concussed areas, it was a miracle she was able to open her eyes, to speak, to remember anything at all. With the extent of her injuries-it’s a damn miracle she lived. Her body is healing the best way it knows how.”

 “It’s been two months since you put her into that coma.” I cross my arms over my chest, fists clenched underneath.

 “Yes, and half of that since we took her off the medicine that induced it. I’m telling you, Captain Rogers. She may never wake up. You need to prepare yourself for that possibility.”

 “She has information we need.”

 “Then you should have thought about that before your interrogation sent her into a bout of seizures,” Haskin says with a glare before turning on her heel and storming away.

 “Curvă,” Wanda mutters, looking after her. 

 I ignore her comment and turn to the girl in the bed. She had been on the verge of telling me something important, I’m sure of it.  And whether the doc is right and I did cause this, or I didn’t and it would have happened anyway, I still feel awful. That’s probably why I’m still hanging around some random hospital in Maryland.

 She’s pretty, I can see it better now that the swelling on her face has disappeared. Her high cheekbones give her face almost a heart shape. Her lips are a little pouty, a petite nose rests just above them. The scars that crisscross her face don’t take away from the natural beauty, and I hope that when she wakes up, because she just has to, she’ll see it that way too.

 “Do you think I should...” Wanda trails off, giving her slender fingers a wiggle.

 I look at her and shake my head. “No, whatever is going on with her, it should be her telling us. I think she might be pissed if she finds out we were digging around in her brain. Hopefully, she should wake up naturally from it. If she’s going to at all.”

 “Captain.” A Wakandan accent reaches my ears and I turn to see one of the King’s Guard, the Dora Milaje.

 “Yeah?”

 “The woman’s partner is here again. Shall I send him away?” She asks.

 “No, let him come up. He should be able to say his goodbyes.” I sigh and rub a hand over my face. This was always the hardest part. 

 The man, Jonathan, comes down the hallway, flowers in his hand.

 “No change yet?” He asks. He always asks.

 “No. I just spoke with the doc. Doesn’t look too good.” I tell him, trying to soften the blow.

 “Yeah, they always say that, don’t they?” He steps into the room and sets the flowers in another vase. “She just doesn’t know Ava like I do. She’ll wake up, you’ll see.” He bends down and kisses her forehead. “Won’t you, baby? You’ll come back to me.” 

 Wanda makes a face and turns away. I also turn away, feeling even more guilty. 

 “Come on. Let’s go get some food. We can come back tomorrow.” I say to Wanda, pushing away from the window and heading for the door. 

 “Yes, please. I cannot watch a grown man call a grown woman ‘baby’. It’s pathetic.”

 “What does Vision call you?” I ask with a smirk as I hold the door open for us.

 “Wanda.” 

 I tip my head back and laugh loudly. “Of course, I honestly don’t know what else I was expecting.”

Chapter 2

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